#just wrote a oneshot. feeling good.

[irritablepoe]

ok i wrote a little over 1k words today, somebody tell me they're proud of me :')

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

More of Stanley's sketchbook because he makes me sick /pos

(Just imagine he was looking in a mirror at the subway to draw this anshfhwj. The london bus ticket is unrelated, it's just a random knick knack he had lying around<3)

People weren't the only ones Stan met on the streets.

------

+ this is an absolute fucking batshit WILD oneshot I initially wrote for these drawings that got WAY out of hand, if you feel like reading that.

The oneshot below is a stand-alone now, and in no way is related to the drawings above, but I just wanted to show you guys because Jesus Christ

------

Winter of 1981, at a subway station Stan doesn't remember the name of-

The sorry excuse of a transport system that this hellhole of a city called a functioning subway was hardly anyone's first choice of a warm place to stay the night. And yet, here Stanley was; standing like an idiot in the middle of a small bustling stairwell that led down to the full screeching chaos of a train stop on a Tuesday evening. A rowdy crowd of exhausted office workers streamed out like a tidal wave from the entrance of the station, the bustle of their footsteps all too eager to go home and relax after a long day of work.

The faint, stuffy stench of old piss and sweat followed the crowd to the surface from the deep depths of a less than sanitary and overcrowded train station. The pungent smell intermingled with the crisp stinging winter air in a cocktail of shitty city gloom often associated with this time of the year; when the holidays were too far away and the sun seemed to come and go with practically the same 9 to 5 schedule as the workers had, leaving them going to work in the pitch dark and coming back out in the inky black as well.

He might have looked like he belonged there, depending on how one would want to look at it. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of prim, pressed suits and neart uniforms. His ratty old jacket and generally unwashed appearance certainly didn’t help his case, but he also knew that stations like these also tended to shelter quite a number of homeless wanderers like him, especially during the winter. So, it wasn't exactly uncommon to see other sore thumbs seeking reprieve from the biting cold and the dangerous likelihood of frostbite from within the enclosed walls of the subway station.

Heck, if most of these underground kingdoms didn't also happen to be a breeding ground for several illicit activities, he might even have followed their lead. But, believe it or not, Stanley's already had enough experience with illegal activities to last him a last time, and he isn't looking for a new fill. He was satisfied with what meager shelter his trusty car offered him, as little a difference it might make in terms of safety.

Stanley's obstruction of the already narrow stairs with his loitering went unappreciated, as shoulders roughly shoved past him and swinging briefcases repeatedly bumped into his sides, usually coupled with a nasty glare and a snide comment or two. He paid them no mind, however. He wasn't here to start a fight with some random bum with a dead end job, as much as he thought it would probably do them both some good to duke their stresses out on one another.

The hours ticked by with wave after wave of new crowds being dropped off by a train and left to pour out of the station into the streets. By the time the streetlights turned on and the pale pink in the sky slowly faded to make way for the stark glittery black of the night sky, the tide of people had slowed to a trickle and rush hour was long since over. He was now the stairs’ sole occupier, with a few occasional stragglers stumbling up the steps and hurrying past him without a second glance.

Stanley did not move from his spot, however. He stood resolutely in the middle of the stairway, fervently rubbing his arms and stamping his feet in a futile attempt to try and regain feeling in his extremities as he waited. Rocking on his heels, he titled his head backwards to let his eyes roam the constellations that carpeted the endless expanse of the sky stretched out above his head, almost losing himself in the scintillating canvas of stars.

It reminded him of old times; of the sparkling beach sand twinkling in the dim moonlight, and the soft sound of lilting waves hovering in the background as he lay back on the cold wooden deck of his ship and watched the stars dance.

He still remembered every name his brother had once recited to him time and time again as he pointed out each star and galaxy from the night sky.

Then, like clockwork, he was broken out of his reveries by a telltale meow coming from below. The sound was a familiar blanket that immediately melted away the tension that had begun to build in his chest as he practically sagged with relief.

His body moved almost automatically as he leaned down to detach the frail tabby cat that was attempting to literally fuse with his legs, purring up a storm and rubbing her head against his pants as though her life depended on it. The cat gave a soft chirrup of dissatisfaction at being manhandled, which Stanley absentmindedly replied with a chiding click of his tongue as he lifted her up his chest and gently tucked her into his jacket in a practiced motion.

She thankfully remained blissfully limp in his grasp as he shifted around some more so that she was nestled comfortably inside the dark pocket of warmth inside his ratty jacket. The tiny warm lump that rumbled contently against his front radiated with heat, and his fingers finally began to feel like actual fingers rather than useless stiff frigid lumps of meat and bone attached to his palms.

A pointed cough startled him from his clumsy wriggling to get the cat to settle down. An oddly familiar security guard stood at the entrance of the station at the bottom of the stairs, leveling Stanley an unimpressed look with the metal gate in his grip already halfway closed, ready to seal the subway for the night. He must have been a comical sight; caught awkwardly bent over while trying to get his newly acquired cat to stop kneading biscuits on his stomach, with said cat peeking out from the gap between his collars.

Stanley faintly recognized the guard. He was a much older man, with a shock of thinning white hair neatly tucked underneath a dark blue cap and a strange depth in his eyes that reminded Stanley of the sea; with countless unspoken truths lurking far beneath the surface, but no less grand and knowing of all that the universe had to offer, as though he had already lived a thousand lives before this one.

He had seen the man around before, at another station, doing the opposite of his job by ushering stray buskers and homeless stragglers from the streets and into the (relatively) safe walls of the subway, instead of doing what any other law-abiding security guard would do and kick them out into the elements. He wasn't sure what the older man was doing here, of all places, since all the previous stations he'd seen the man at had been several states over, practically on the other side of the country.

A brief spark of panic shot through his spine at the thought that this man could be following him, but he quickly discarded the ridiculous notion as soon as it entered his mind. He had never even seen him before, and hardly ever even interacted with him; there was no reason for there to be any sort of bad blood between them. Unless he happened to be related to one of Stanley's many, many enemies, then perhaps his fear was a little warranted.

However, the old guard made no move to attack or do anything other than stare judgmentally, almost expectantly. For the first time in a long time, Stanley felt like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. He tried his best to keep his uncomfortable squirming to a minimum under the unrelenting gaze, stubbornly returning the man's gaze with his own wary glare. His cat’s muffled whining came from inside his jacket. The traitor, she was leaving him to deal with the old man on his own.

With an exasperated jerk of his head, the security guard gestured towards the inside of the station. For a moment, Stanley stared dumbly, uncomprehending of what the old man could possibly want from him. Rolling his eyes, this time the man gestured more insistently at the small gap that still remained between the metal gate and the entrance, his arm sweeping the air in a low arc as he dramatically urged Stanley inside. Suddenly, it clicked, and Stanley shook his head.

“I have a car,” he said plainly, his voice echoing loudly in the desolate silence of the winter night that surrounded the unlikely pair.

He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, it wasn't as though he was lying. He did have a car, his trusty Stanley-mobile was parked safely away in the corner of an unassuming alley that wasn't often frequented by anyone. There was no way he was reaching it tonight, though; it was practically on the other side of the city, much too far away for him to arrive at a reasonable time. His nightly excursions to meet his small friend unfortunately left him with no other choice than to leave his car behind, the hunk of metal far too unwieldy and noticeable to drive around openly on the streets. He never knew who could be watching, after all.

He had simply been hoping to find himself a dark corner to tuck himself into with his cat, just for the night, but it seemed as though the universe had other plans. Or rather, this strange old man had other plans.

Although, if Stanley thought about it, the subway wasn't such a bad suggestion. This was one of the safer stations in the city; and with the rich neighborhoods being so close by, no rogue criminal or dealers dared to come near this area unless they wanted to be slapped with a hefty fine or face a higher potential to be arrested. And of course, there was the obvious shelter from the unrelenting cold that now seemed to permeate his bones, even with the purring warmth that was nestled inside his jacket.

So, that was how he found himself hunkering down for the night inside a shabby old subway station, with a satisfied cat still rumbling away against his chest and a strange old security guard locking down the gates behind him. The man said nothing as he hooked his keys back onto his belt and gave a firm pat on Stanley's shoulders as he walked past him, pausing to scratch his cat behind her ears before moving away. His footsteps bounced off of the grimy tiled walls with an odd reverb as he turned a corner.

“You'll be safe in here,” the man said, voice sage and gravelly. The words had a weight to them, and seemed to hang in the air with such a presence it was as though the old man had never even left his side.

The subway was empty, quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the loud rowdiness of the rush hour crowd these halls once held. Stanley hadn't yet registered the utter silence of the station as he aimlessly made his way down the winding, deserted halls of the ancient station. He mindlessly walked past the aged and peeling advertising posters plastered on the walls, his nose becoming accustomed to the stinging stench of the subway. The quiet seemed to swallow the sound of his steps as he explored the branching paths and endless tunnels. They were almost kaleidoscopic, dizzying, nonsensical. There were doors where there shouldn't be, and deadends where it didn't make sense.

The silence only began to truly settle in his bones the more he walked. He suddenly wished that he would head the telltale footsteps of the old security guard again, just to hear another sign of life in this underground hellscape other than himself. The ghostly memories of screeching trains and bustling crowds haunted the halls; now, only nothingness reigned supreme. He glanced down at his small feline companion, who slumbered away against his chest, blissfully unaware of his jackrabbiting heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribs. The silence seemed to permeate every inch of space and crush the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe.

Stanley’s steps grew faster, more frantic as the walls and ceilings seemed to close in on him. They grew smaller, tighter; squeezing, trapping. He hardly even registered his cat's complaints as she was jostled around in his grasp, breaking into a full out run. His breathing sounded loud, too loud, and the world was collapsing around him.

When he finally broke out into a large, open platform, he could finally breathe again. He had arrived at the tracks, the empty tunnel where the trains would pass an empty, gaping maw in the wall that seemed to swallow all light around it and beckon him closer. He felt his cat wriggle out from within his jacket and hop out with a displeasured yowl, scampering away and disappearing behind a corner much like the old man had. True silence pierced his ears and thrummed like a deafening pressure in his temples. He was alone.

Stanley was stuck in that subway station for years.

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl

Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)

Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)

Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".

Content: Brandon.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.

Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.

Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.

That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.

“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 

“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.

You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 

“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”

He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”

More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.

You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…

“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.

“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”

“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”

You blink. “You are?”

“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”

An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?

“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”

He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.

“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”

Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”

“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”

“Be safe, Ky.”

“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”

You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.

You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?

Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.

But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.

Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.

Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.

Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.

Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)

“Where are you going?”

You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.

“The Hay Festival,” you answer.

Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.

“Alone?”

You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”

The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 

“I need that suitcase.”

You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”

He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”

Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?

You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.

“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.

There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.

“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.

When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.

This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.

“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”

He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”

That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.

Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.

“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.

“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.

“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”

He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.

Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.

Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…

“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”

Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.

The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”

He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.

As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.

“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”

You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”

“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”

“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.

“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”

He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.

“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.

“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.

You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.

“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”

“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”

“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.

You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.

“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.

You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.

A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.

A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.

Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.

I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)

Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.

Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.

I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.

My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.

She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?

Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.

First | Previous | TBC... Masterlist

[angelatsumu]

thinking of husband!simon who can't get enough of making you cum. nsfw under the cut. | husband!simon, overstimulation (kinda), fingering

“surely you can give me another, lovie” your husband taunts you, eyes peering at your reflection in the mirror. he’s got your legs spread for him, trapped under his own legs as his fingers—middle and ring—find themselves curled deep within your cunt. he’s smirking at you teasingly while your head’s rested against his shoulder. normally he hates when your eyes break contact with his, but today he allows your brief reprieve from his gaze because he’s feeling generous. truthfully speaking, he knows he’ll be asking for ‘just one more’ at least two more times before you’re boneless before him. your lover curls his fingers along the spongy cushion buried within your walls, prodding the soft material with a coy grin splayed across his features. his eyes are sharp as he watches your hips wriggle against the assault in a weak attempt to free yourself. he’s feeling generous, so he lets that silly little action go unpunished. he figures he’ll tax you for each offense; give him one more for his troubles, sweet girl. you whine at the intoxicating thrusts of his digits against you, body overheating as the coil within your abdomen winds tight. the sounds of your squelching cunt makes your cheeks heat with embarrassment, only worsened with the teasing lilt of your husband’s filthy words in your ear. “doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. ‘s almost too much isn’t it, baby?” he sounds like pure sin, panting as though the sheer feel of your cunt squeezing his fingers would do him in. you both know it would; your lover could cum with the sheer feel of your cunt spasming around his tongue, let alone his fingers. he’s hard against your ass, and each wiggle and writhe of your sweet hips making him grunt deeply against your skin. the tightening in your cunt alongside the soft moans of his name let your lover know you’re so close to the edge, so close that you can practically already taste it. he knows, and he makes sure you reach that peak quicker by circling your hard, throbbing clit with his thumb. “oh, sweet girl,” your husband coos at you as your orgasms crests, leaving you trembling in his grasp. Simon’s a bit cruel with the way he thrusts his fingers harder against that sweet spot while spewing filthily in your ear. it’s too much, always too much when he’s this sexy and all yours before him. as you ride out your orgasm, he coaxes you into rocking your hips against his thick fingers. “ride my hand baby, watch yourself ride my fuckin’ hand,” he moans in your ear, free hand gripping your jaw and forcing your gaze to your reflection in the mirror. the sight is enough to have your cunt squeezing his fingers so tight he could barely move, huffs and whines slipping from your pretty lips while he continues his assault on your overstimulated cunt. “please, Si” you whimper with warmed cheeks, eyes pleadingly looking into his own. he lets out a gruff groan, relishing in the tears that speckle your lash line. “just one more,”he lies to you, and you whimper softly knowing it’d be far more than one before you were done.

a/n: rbs + likes greatly appreciated. also, taking requests. also also, if you'd like the insanely long (and kinda fanon/self-indulgent) oneshot i wrote for halloween!simon, lmk

[imissubaee]

Mornings (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)-Oneshot

Warnings/Tags: SMUT(MDNI), morning sex, unprotected, degration kink lowkey???, cream pie, mention of pregnancy

A/n: this one’s FREAKAYYYY (all diddy), wrote this in like 5 mins and didn’t proofread do not expect it to be good, also its very berry short

My masterlist for more hihi😛

NSWF UNDER THE CUT

Stirring away from the depth of your dreams, you feel…full. So full of cock in your tight heat. You’d recognize that massive dick and big hands anywhere. One of your legs was being held up by Logan’s hand as he fucked you from the side. You turn your head, your voice groggy and tired. “Logan what the fuck…”

His free hand quickly covered your mouth, giving your neck gentle kisses. “Shhh…I’m sorry…I need this, love.” He grunted in your ear as he sped up the pace of his thrusts. You were so tired that you fell right back on the pillow. Half asleep and half present. How could you sleep with something sooo big filling your needy hole.

The more he hit your g-spot the more you creamed. Gentle moans and tired whimpers created a melody with his rough grunts and groans. His kisses were so gentle, trailing from your neck, to your jaw, to your cheek and back to the neck. “Such a pretty whore. Letting me use you like this. Bet you were already dreaming of my cock cause you were dripping wet.” His degrading words were said in such a sweet tone.

You just nodded and moaned, throwing your head back against his shoulder. Big, veiny hand trailed from your mouth down to your clit, rubbing it with two fingers in gentle circles. Constant hitting of your g spot and playing with your clit made you cum immediately. A loud moan escaping your lips, body shuddering and shaking with pleasure.

“You look so pretty when you cum…” he whispered. And soon enough, he felt his own orgasm approaching. His core tightening as he emptied his full balls into you. Warm sticky roped of his cum fills you. He didn’t even bother pulling out. He’d get you pregnant if he wanted to. Pulling out, he gave your ass a gentle slap then pulled you close so you two could fall asleep again.

———

Okay i just read this and wtf

[randomshyperson]

The Bed Issue - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Another retake of Wandavision, this time, the scene with the two single beds.

Warnings: (+18) pure smut, enchanted strap, fingering, creampie, wanda is in charge but r tops, dirty talking, some typical Westview angst (brief reality alteration) but purely sinful | Words: 3.284k

A/N-> At this point, I feel I should start a new collection with all the scenes I rewrote. I miss writing series people, where are my ideas. Also, sorry if there are too many spelling errors, I wrote this on my phone (it's hard to be poor and busy). But good reading!

General Masterlist | AO3

-&-

The sign of two single beds in the room made you giggle right away.

Wanda, who walked in first, looked back at you with curiosity. Her gaze scanned your face as she asked: “What's funny, darling?”

Your eyes found her and a deep sigh escaped your lips, the ghost of that giggle still present in your expression. 

“The beds, Wanda.” You replied quickly, almost offended she couldn't see the absurdity of that. Maybe she was playing innocent. Or at least, that's what her confused gaze looked like. Another sign escaped you. “Why would a married couple sleep on different beds, side by side?”

“Well, I…” but she cut herself mid-sentence, her gaze shifted as if she realized that really didn't make any sense. “I guess you're right.”

The bed moved as quickly as her fingers - the wood jumping to the side to connect and transform into one bed. You smile, moving forward to kiss your wife's cheek.

“Lovely tricks as always, darling.” You praise, catching the soft color rising up her skin before you step to the bathroom. But you comment again, giggling: “How odd that was, two beds.”

Distracted by your own joke, you didn't catch Wanda's shoulder tension. And she could only force a smile, giving a quick gaze at your figure brushing your teeth while mentality praying that for the sake of her poor heart, you wouldn't notice any other weirdness tonight.

-&-

A stupid tree.

A stupid tree branch against the window and things got out of hand completely. At least this time, in a good sense of things.

That is because Wanda found herself pressed into the bed, giggling at our bold hands under her clothes.

She remembers this teasing all too well. Beyond the sexual tension, and the teenage hormones, there was intimacy. You could always make her laugh, no matter the situation. Often, you would do that in inappropriate ones that's for sure. Just for the satisfaction of making her blush deeply when apologizing to whoever was around to testify you making a mess out of her. And then when in a situation like tonight, where it was too hard to breathe and too warm for a coherent thought - teasing fingers where she had tickles was the perfect way to ease her anxiety. To anchor her back and remember it's just you. Her best friend. Warming your way around her skin.

But things were a little - a lot - different in Westview. Neither of you knows why or how, or better saying, Wanda knew to a different extent than you.

When she brought the covers up your bodies, taking the lead for the night and expecting to meet your eagerness to kiss her again, she was met with more giggles.

She stared down at your shiny eyes, leaning into the hand you brought to her cheek.

“It's too warm here.” You let her know softy, and yes, Wanda was quite aware. Kissing you was more than enough to heat her entirely, but doing this under the covers was a challenge. She could feel the sweat starting to drip. She was ready to say she didn't mind, maybe even kiss you to change the subject when you added: “Why would you cover us anyway, darling? There's no one watching.”

It was meant to be a joke, obviously. You don't know. You couldn't know. And your eyes were innocent and your smile was sincere and Wanda hesitated.

Your hand remains on her cheek, the caress never stopping.

“Did I say something wrong? Where did you go just now?” 

She went outside. Outside the hex, all the way to monitors transmitting her sitcom of a fake life. But not really. Because she didn't consciously know about any of this. Yet, some part of her mind did know, and all the TVs that once exhibited her little show, now hold a Stand By sign. 

Wanda was the one who threw the covers aside. The fresh air was well welcome but you're now distracted with the gorgeous woman moving to straddle your hips.

“You're right, there's no one watching.” She says with the same urgency she burst open your pajama shirt. You don't understand the rush, but she looks too pretty for you to disagree. And Wanda purrs at the sight of your naked skin, biting her lips like a naughty child. “I missed you.”

You chuckle breathlessly, some confusion in your eyes. “I was with you all day.”

She shook her head, deciding now to control her tongue. If she doesn't want you questioning, she needs to stop saying things like this. So she forces a smile, shifting against your hips in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat. “I always miss my wife, I mean. Whenever she's not touching me.”

Even though you offer her a grin, there's a blush in your cheeks that goes down your chest and Wanda suddenly doesn't feel like talking anymore.

A feeling you two seem to share as you bring a hand to her face only to pull her down at you again. It's a heated kiss. With tongue and breathy whispers that turn her into needy sounds. 

Even without the covers, it's soon too hot to keep clothes on. 

You're the one who takes her nightgown off. Pulling down as your tongues dance together, until the item no longer hides the tits you started to play it. 

Wanda's eyes are tightly closed as your mouth sucks her nipple. Your hand plays with the other while she struggles to breathe. 

Her top needs to go, but so does all the other clothing. The nightgown barely reached the floor and you're already pulling at her soaked panties, eager to feel her inside.

“Need this off you now, witchy.” The nickname makes her gasp. You haven't used it until now and it has been way too long since she heard. Since you- 

No. No thinking about this, not now.

She forces herself back to the present, an easy task when she feels every inch of her skin burning with your touch. She needs to move away to take the item off but your hands hold her tight by the waist at the mere attempt of breaking apart.

She giggles breathlessly, aware of the new wave of wetness that dripped down with the feeling of your strong hands manhandling her back at her position, keeping her restless hips still. “But you said you wanted it off.” She tries to ration, receiving only a growl in return. The next second, when your hands shift, the item is torn off her without ceremony. 

“Hey! It was my favorite.” She pouts in protest but you merely give her a husky chuckle.

“I'm sure you can fix it.” Comes as a teasing answer that Wanda couldn't contradict even if she wanted to - all previous thoughts are gone when your fingers reach her front and penetrate between her warm folds without a warning. You groan at the delirious feeling of her pussy against your fingertips while Wanda whimpers at the ceiling, trying to get used to the sudden invasion.

“Fuck, you're so tight.” Your remark with a sultry voice against her ear. Wanda's arm circles your shoulder for some support while she feels the stretch of your fingers inside her. It's been a while since last time but dear God how she missed this. Her hips move on instinct and you have to chuckle at her impatience with herself. Your free hand moves to her lower back, caressing her skin while your fingers start to press your way inside her.

“Easy darling, I got you.” You guide, too deeply for her to give you any replies other than pleas and whimpers.  The position might not be the most comfortable for you but it's amazing to her. Wanda can grind down and ride your fingers as she pleases and you can feel how close she's coming to her climax so you don't dare to stop. Your thumb moves to her clit, circling the nerve and she nearly loses it. The bedroom lights start to flash with the build of this orgasm and you stare at her in amazement only to be rewarded with her gorgeous flushed face while she grinds into your hand in nearly despair.

“Fuck you're so beautiful.” You gasp, increasing the speed. The depth. Wanda breaks in a sob, her back arching. The first one is a charm. Your name is being screamed at the ceiling while you feel her wetness dripping down your hand. Unfortunately - or fortunately - it only makes you crave her more. She's still recovering from the intensity of this climax, all sweaty and flushed when you shift your hand. You're still inside her tight walls and your fingers start to pick up a pace again. She squeaks at the overstimulation, but her protest dies in your tongue sucking hers when you kiss her again.

Wanda's almost too distracted by the filthy of this kiss to notice how quickly her second climax is building - almost. There's a bite against your bottom lip that makes you groan when she breaks the kiss, unable to keep it up. Her hands grab at you for some grounding when she feels how close she is to come, stronger than the last time. You feel her nails piercing your skin when her orgasm washes over her and it's your time to moan at her ear.

Her body goes limp for a moment after this. It was two intense orgasms in a row after all. She just needs to take a breath. 

You move your fingers out, sucking them clean and murmuring satisfied at her taste while Wanda struggles to recognize her surroundings.

When you can hold her with both hands again, you nuzzle at her cheek.

“Enjoying yourself, witchy?” You dare to tease her when she can feel how she's still leaking in your lap. Honestly, the nerve. Wanda let out a deep breath, pushing her momentarily tiredness away. 

There's an easy smile on her lips when she finds your eyes again. “I am but I've been so selfish.” She starts with a particular accentuation of her ascent that she knows you drive you insane. She also watches as your breath catches and your eyes drift to her lips, mesmerized by every word. “You must be needing me as well.”

But you tense at her nails screeching your belly, a worried frown coming at your expression.

“Wanda… my powers.” The fear in your eyes is like a cold buck of water. Oh, yes, she forgot.

For the whole day, she forgot you had no idea of the life you two shared. Nothing outside Westview and this lovely fantasy. None of the creative ways you two once used to bypass the super strength issue. Your fear and hesitation at hurting her made perfect sense but the fact that she was the only one who could remember the whole history you two shared was still painful. Her expression probably gave her away and confused you even more. “I promise you this is more than enough for me. Bringing you pleasure is enough.” You add gently, but Wanda shakes her head, leaning in to kiss you. She leaves you breathlessly before breaking apart, taking some pride in the way you're blushing.

“Don't be silly, darling, there's plenty of things for us to do together. To please one another.” You gulp at her words and tone of voice, eyes following all of her movements. From the shift of her hips to the teasing of her fingers on the way down your pants. “I wanna try something I think you'll love it. Do you trust me?”

You nod immediately, watching as Wanda's fingers play with the hem of your pants. She giggles naughty at your anticipation and brings one finger up to your chin, to make you look at her eyes again. 

“Can you use your words?”

“Y-yeah.” You swallow, trying to win some composure back. It's not easy when Wanda Maximoff is naked and sitting on your tight. But you smile anyway. “Of course I trust you, witchy.”

She smiles at you, her eyes flashing a glimmer of naughtiness that makes your heart leap. You can't worry too much about that anyway - Wanda leans in to kiss you again. And it's the dirtiest one of the night. She takes the lead, pulling back now and then just to tease your tongue with the tip of hers, reveling at the way you pant and struggle to keep your hips still. 

But suddenly, you feel the new pressure inside your pants. The odd sensation shifts your attention entirely but Wanda brings her hands to your neck and kisses you hard. You moan into her tongue, hands holding her tight by the waist until her spell is complete. She presses down into you and the kiss is broken with your needy awareness.

“F-fuck, is that…?” You open surprised and aroused eyes at her, looking down where your middles connect only to watch Wanda's equal affected state. Her trembling hands reach down at your pants, trying to pull the garment off.

“Yeah, and I really need you inside now, alright baby? Think you're ready for me?” Her words are rushed as her fingers. Your pants and underwear are stuck in an awkward position on your thighs because Wanda is too impatient to wait another second. She grabs the hardness - barely giving you time to get used to the image or more important the feeling - of that scarlet strap magically placed there - before she sinks down.

It's a form of revenge, maybe. For the way you didn't give her time to prepare before, but what a sweet revenge that was.

The nearly animalistic grunt that escaped you when Wanda's cunt squeezed around you was a sound you didn't know you could make. She, on the other hand, rewards your ears with a pleasant deep moan while she adjusts to the fullness. There's also a new stretch. The toy is obviously larger than your fingers and goes deliciously deeper so Wanda needs to take a deep breath while she welcomes you in.

To her delight, not that you can remember this, but just like the first time you two tried, it's too much of a new overwhelming pleasure for you to handle. You came almost the same second you're bottom up. Tensing and shaking at the new feeling. You gasp, hands falling at the sides to grab the sheets that are torn apart while you hide your face into her neck and your climax washes over you.

Wanda giggles in amusement. The hot shot inside her feels as good as she remembers and you haven't changed. But the toy softening causes you to panic.

“S-sorry, god, I'm so sorry. I don't-”

“Shh, it's okay.” She cuts your anxious babbling immediately, firming her legs around you and bringing her hands to hold your cheeks. “I know it feels like a real one, but it's not a real one.” She says and without any warning, grinds down at you, stealing all the air of your lungs. Wanda bites her lip before adding “See? You're hard again already.”

You can't give her words. The only thing that leaves your mouth is a whine that makes her clench around you. 

Suddenly, she's moving. Rough grinding before she's undeniably riding your strap and it's dirty and maddeningly sexy so your hands hold her hips and help her when her body starts to betray her wishes to keep going. 

“Oh, Wanda, you feel so nice.” You moan with your eyes closed, outside the shared grunts and your words, the only sounds of the room are the bed creaking and the soaked toy coming in and out of her. Your lovely wife decides to give you a reason to be louder. Her hands push you back at the bed and now you can see her in all of her glory. Her pretty tits bounce with the hard pace she takes on top of you. “W-wait. Easy, I can't hold it if you-” 

Her hands move yours - trying to slow her by the waist - away, locking your fingers together at each side of your head. Her hair makes a curtain for your faces but Wanda kisses you again. Your tongues are still moving together when you come first. 

Because you're strong - stronger than her that is - scarlet magic holds you still, wrists and ankles when Wanda can't. She holds her climax just a little longer, enough to put on a show for your breathless figure under her when you are able to look up at it. 

It's divine when it occurs - The silent scream, her frown before the blissed worn-out expression. The flags of the light, the room vibrating and her eyes bright red before the dark green meets your gaze again.

She smiles down at you, still shaking but somehow ready for another.

“Enjoying yourself aren't you, Avenger?” she repeats your words from before, but the nickname so often used for teasing makes you frown in confusion.

“What is…? But she changed that before you could finish the question. 

As quickly as it happened, the scene shifted as if the words never left her lips. You were staring at her, with uneven breathing and adoring eyes.

“Is this really necessary?” For a second, her heart leaped in fear. The possibility that you could tell she altered things. But your gaze shifted to the magic holding you still, and you offered her a pleading stare. “Won’t you let me touch you?”

Wanda sighs, adjusting your hips and seeing the way your jaw tenses at the slight movement. You're still inside her, always magically stimulated to be hard no matter how many times you come. It made sense that you might be sensitive.

She bit her bottom lip, hands resting on your chest.

“But you look so pretty like this…” She starts, leaning in as if going for a kiss. You sigh as her lips meet your cheeks instead, closing your eyes when you feel her smiling before moving down. “I like having you at my mercy.”

You hum, somewhat distracted by her soft grind against you. If you're hard again, that's not only the magic to blame but Wanda's warm pussy squeezing you still.

“But I'm like this all the time.” you joke earning a husky giggle before she puts some distance between your faces again.

You let out a deep sigh when she pulls out the next second, catching her own soft groan at the emptiness. But your words fail you when you look down and see the mixed cum leaking from her and dripping down your abs.

Cursing under your breath a single “fuck.” at the image, you are not surprised at Wanda's naughty giggle.

“You made such a mess, babe.” She teases, the toy still vibrating and it occurs to you that it doesn't just answer to your arousal, but hers as well. 

“Me? You're the one who, you know… ride it. I didn't even know I would come through it.” You tried to defend yourself with rosy cheeks but Wanda is clearly teasing you. She giggles again, adjusting herself and causing you to shut up immediately. 

“I think you should stop babbling and start cleaning your mess.”

You swallow hard when you realize she's still moving. Up towards your face. The bed makes a strong crack sound when you use all your strength to pull your hands free from her magic chains.

Wanda allows you to break free. Mainly because she loves to feel your hands holding her thighs open when you eat her out.

Some old habits never die.

[aurynsia]

what would be the life after hogwarts for james and reader? i can just imagine james thinking of the best ring he could give reader to ask her to marry him, or even like thinking of where they should live in.

Life After Hogwarts

James Potter x Reader

Summary: James won’t settle for anything less than perfect for his perfect girl...

Warnings: Intense fluff, Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, James is just a good hearted rich boy who wants the best for his partner <3

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for the request! I wrote this as a sequel to this series, but it can just as easily be read as a stand alone oneshot. Enjoy!

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“Pads, please focus here. This is serious!”

“No, I’m Sirius, born and raised! Are you sure you aren’t feeling lightheaded, Prongs?”

James and Sirius stood bent over the cabinet of delicate rings, the latter struggling to free himself from a ring size too small. James huffed in frustration, brows furrowed in contemplation as he glanced across the display one last time.

“None of them feel right, I’m telling you! We‘ll just have to find somewhere else, she won’t like how flashy all of these diamonds are,” James sulked and grumbled as Sirius finally eased the ring off of his nimble finger.

“Prongs, this is the fifth jeweller we’ve been to in the past four hours. Merlin, the sun is already setting and you haven’t even considered a single one of the more than acceptable rings we’ve looked at!”

Sirius scrambled to chase James out of the store, pace quickened along the damp concrete of the sidewalk.

“It needs to be perfect, she’s perfect. I will settle for no less.” James held his head high, nose turned upwards at the raven haired boy who grew visibly sluggish with every step.

Sirius groaned, only following his bespectacled friend for another quick moment before James stopped abruptly at a pawn shop window, eyes bursting wide with hope.

The ring in the window shone elegantly against the store’s harsh light. The metal twisted and turned in a smooth curve that was sure to make your skin glow radiantly in contrast. It was understated, with only the minor details in the engravings making a quiet display of the mountain of money James was about to spend.

“That’s the one. It’s perfect.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The cool breeze wrapped around the Potter’s summer house with ease, pressing against your skin to form goosebumps along the soft surface.

James had been acting strangely all day, almost avoiding you at every turn of the house’s walls like his life depended on it. He fiddled with his fingers, stuttered out his words and blushed at every subtle sound of amusement you made.

Finally relaxing into your side, James sheltered you from the wind with his body on his family’s beach-side deck. Your evening beverage was pressed between your legs, freeing your hands to run soothing circles over your boyfriend’s back.

His eyes clenched shut, head growing wrinkles as he sought his trademark courage that seemed to all but disappear the moment you were near.

Slowly, tentatively, he lifted his body from your warmth, flashing you a sympathetic smile to compensate for the absolute fool he was about to make of himself.

“Love, I- you mean the world to me…” he turned to face you. “These past years with you have made for some of the happiest moments I’ve ever experienced…” he shifted to lift up onto his knees, gazing down at your curious expression.

“I love you so, so much. I loved you when I first met you, the shy girl on the Hogwarts express. I loved you when we started dating, all smiles over candle lit dinners, and…” He moved again, down on one knee. “I want to keep loving you when you marry me.”

You gasped at the genuine glaze of his soft brown eyes, his lean towards your stationary body, and the ring sat in his grasp, shrouded by a velvet box.

He coughed slightly at the awkward atmosphere, repeating himself with clarity. “Will you…marry me?”

“Godric, James- yes!”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Fleamont Potter was showering his son with engagement gifts. James never had any reason to complain about his family or economic situation, and to say he grew up comfortably would be a drastic understatement.

House hunting was James’ first protocol after his successful proposal. He had patiently listened to you ramble about your dream house for years, trying to stay focused under your captivating gaze and endearing energy. Big windows, lots of light, and a burning fireplace.

That’s exactly what James was searching for as he strolled down the streets of Godric’s Hollow. He had inspected every single house he could find, taken or not. The day was wearing out, washing lines already dried under the subtle summer heat.

His gaze fell in a wave of sluggish fatigue, only to be snapped open by the sight of a Southern-style mansion positioned right on the edge of Godric’s Hollow, towering over the sidewalk. The house was decorated with shutters and balconies, as well as a small red sign in the front yard.

FOR SALE.

He rushed to the front door, conveniently propped open. “It’s a beautiful place, really, but we’re after something a little more…modern.” A family glided past James in a pack, concluding what he could only assume to be a tour of the house.

The estate agent fixed his tie as he bid farewell to the family, promising something about searching closer to the city the following week. He spun around to find James gawking eagerly at the front door, before clearing his throat to gain the young Potter’s attention.

“Would you like a tour?”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James flashed you a smug smile as you gazed in awe at the intricate architecture of your new townhouse. You were perched on the front lawn, tucked into James’ side with his hand on the small of your back.

“It’s so beautiful…” you mused wistfully, gaze drawn to the rustic tiles on the roof like sunflowers to the sun. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, I mean- this must have been an absolute pain to buy…” you finally tilted your gaze to see James peering over you, a lovesick longing painted on his features.

“Love, my father knows people - too many to count - who were more than happy to help with this little engagement gift,” he chuckled, eyes still locked on yours. “When I saw this house for the first time…it was calling your name. Our names.”

The house was big enough to hold a few kids and some small pets - clearly too big for just you and James, but he hoped that your family would fill it out in the coming years. There needed to be room for at least one big black dog.

Still uncertain, you gave James a sceptical look. “It was no trouble, really.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he drove you through the open door by your shoulders.

You stumbled through each room, captivated by the warmth in every corner you turned to. James was hot on your heels, guiding you by your waist every now and then to show you specific features of the kitchen, the bathrooms and the already decorated master bedroom.

You jumped onto the bed with glee, warmth engulfing you under your body.

“Jamie…it’s perfect…” you mused, eyes shut as you felt the bed dip with your Fiancée’s weight, who shifted to kiss your forehead with care.

“You’re perfect, love.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

[deeplyshalllow]

Classic Fiyeraba fic recommendations

So, with the new movie coming out, I've seen a lot of requests here for people to write Fiyeraba particularly happy Shiz era stuff, and like guys, guys, I did not spend my formative teen years in the Wicked fanfiction.net section for people to act like the amazing fics there don't even exist.

So here is my list of the fics and authors so great that I remember it over a decade later

Obviously, given we have never had a situation before where people know act 1 but not act 2, there will be spoilers and act 2 stuff in a bunch of these, but please check them out.

(a few of the authors I know are still around tumblr I've tagged, but feel free to tell me if you want me to take it off).

Authors in no particular order:

Tiggy the Hopeless Romantic - Honestly just read anything this woman wrote, I think if anyone said Fiyeraba fanfic this would be the first name I think of - bonus that a lot of the stuff is easily digestible fluffy oneshots

Merina Thropp @merinathropp on Tumblr - Writes beautifully, I remember getting very excited when she uploaded new fic. I particularly remember her Fiyero's Shiz era twitter fic and her extended As Long As You're Mine fic

HC247 @a-partofthenarrative on Tumblr - Writes such lovely fluff and I think double digits on alaym fics! Particularly remember her Once Upon a Kiss series and Masquerade. She mostly writes POTO stuff now but I see occasionally get an alert in my inbox from her.

alinaandalion - another fantastic Fiyeraba writer (god there are so many) I particularly remember her for her A Drop in the Bucket series, which are a lovely series of Fiyeraba oneshots.

CrazyBeagle - one of the people on the Wicked section who has made the transition to real life friend. But I knew her for her fics before we became friends. To Feel is post musical fic which is a lovely realistic continuation of Fiyeraba's journey. Unlimited is a modern retelling of Wicked which I really enjoy though I have been told multiple times it will never be updated no matter how much I threaten.

Scandalacious Intentions @scandalaciousintentions on Tumblr - Candy is the other Wicked friend who has become an irl friend (and I am most certainly the only person who still calls her Candy). She is much better known for her Tonks/Lupin stuff, but I always loved what she wrote for Wicked. Witchy Woman was her first Wicked fic I still very much enjoy it.

Girlscout4ever wrote ever so beautifully. Cheap Rented Room is such a fantastic expanded ALAYM.

ElphabaROCKS - wrote a lot of very good Fiyeraba fluff

Vinkanwildflowerqueen @vinkunwildflowerqueen on Tumblr - I imagine a lot of you know her already as she is still writing! She writes a lot of very good Fiyeraba au fics

Fermantoso - one of the funniest writers in the section! Chasing Elphie is the one I remember best, au but funny and sweet.

Danderson - slightly more bookverse than a lot of the other writers here but still great fics!

Kaylle - There are Nights, is always the one people (including me) remember as it's one of the most beautiful pieces of fanfiction on the Wicked section, but all of her work is lovely.

Lost Ozian - Well known for her humour, The Fiyero User Manual springs immediately to mind, my favourite is actually her serious au fic Different

Me - debated whether to add this, but I was also part of the section back in the day, and I know people enjoyed my fics too, though God knows I've improve my writing in the last decade and a half - in terms of Fiyeraba my strongest were probably A Moment and Living. Perfect Together is unquestionably the best fic I wrote for Wicked, although it's more Flinda.

Individual Fics:

Like a Swan on a Lake - this fic was actually well after my time but I happened to read it and I love love love it! AU of Fiyero if both girls defied gravity together and it does such a good job of showing his intelligence

Broccoli - I remember this one being very sweet Shiz era Fiyeraba

According to Plan - funny fic, fun twist ending

Sincerely, an annoyed Shiz student - not strickly Fiyeraba but you should read it. It is a very fun parody.

It's a long way to fall - This was actually the fic I created a fanfic account for, because I hadn't realised you could anonymous review! A fun arranged marriage AU

Please, please add to this list if you have other recs, mine are about 10 years out of date. Also apologies if I've missed any out as there's so many good ones and it is 2am.

[nymphea0]

Monsters and His Love

Oneshot Story

Yan! Leon winston x reader

Warning : Mentions Of smoke, Force power, light mature scene, Torture scene, Bloods, Cropse body.

Be careful with what you read, minors are prohibited from reading this.

Manhwa : Try Begging

: Adult Manhwa (19+)

Author: Libenia | 리베냐

Artist: ABYSS

Word Count : 2,9K Word.

Hallo.. is neva agains, hope your days fine and good, so soon i will update some long story in Quotev, i will share the links if the story was half done made, so keep wait love🦋🦋.

might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story, love.- Neva🦋🦋

.

.

.

.

.

.

Captain Leon Winston, a vulgar monster clothed in the skin of a stoic and elegant noble. He was a pathetic bastard who only raged at the smell of blood from the torture chamber.

Leon, has been through many things in his life, starting from the death of his father, to a spy who doubles as his maid, Sally Bristol or her real name is Grace Riddle.

Everything that Leon goes through must always be with Grace. Leon will probably always talk about, Sally this and Sally that.

You, you are the daughter of Marquess Von Alderve from the Alvonseh family, the Alderve region.

The Marquis family and the Count family have had a relationship for a long time, Closeness like friends.

From the results of that relationship, it spread to the present, You and Leon.

You and Leon are childhood friends until now, You went through hard times together, But all that changed when you accidentally saw Leon kissing a little girl at a summer resort, having eyes between blue and green, so contrasting, Turquoise eyes, even Leon shared the ice cream he bought especially for the girl.

Since that little incident when you were little, you were not as close as before with Leon.

You could not possibly forget that girl, until you met her again, who doubled as Leon's maid.

Leon did many things, since he was a captain, and a noble, there were many things he could do, but all of that only ended with him covered in blood in the torture room from the victims or Leon called it a wild rat or something from the lower class.

.

.

'Puk'

You put down the newspaper you were reading, again... the issue of the nobility and the revolutionary army faction.

Drinking tea disinterestedly, you looked out the window of your room, now you have entered the mature age of 21 years.

Even Leon was engaged to the grand duke's daughter, Rosalind, though you weren't sure if he even cared about the relationship, since he was so obsessed with Sally or... his enemy's spy.

'Tak'

'Tak'

'Tak'

Damn!, you knew right away whose shoes and footsteps were those!, Leon!.

The man you least wanted to meet!.

Your relationship wasn't as close as it used to be, yes when you were still children, you fell in love with him, with Leon, a normal, sweet boy, but that changed from the incident at the summer resort, to the same girl you saw at the resort doubled as Leon's maid.

You saw more and more that there was no chance there, even when you saw how unenthusiastic Leon was with his fiancée, Rosalind.

So since you were 11 years old, you had made the right decision not to get close and fall in love with Leon.

"What were you thinking that seriously?"

A deep baritone voice right beside you, you could even feel his warm breath on your ear and neck.

It must have always been like that, Leon since he was little, always like that, talking in your ear or just an inch of your face.

"No, just thinking about hospital matters nothing more"

Leon looked at you from the side, you were beautiful, very beautiful in Leon's eyes, your bright purple eyes, hair as dark as night, really made him want to do bad things to you.

No, not now, not yet.

Sitting right in front of you, taking the glass of tea you were drinking, he drank it as if it was no big deal.

You just stared at him uncertainly, but you let him.

Only Leon was a stranger who could easily enter and exit your room, well it's always been like that since long ago.

"Why don't you want to join me? It'll be safer if you're beside me, you know that right?"

His arms were crossed, looking at you, with his usual look, his hair that was always neatly arranged really showed a captain and a noble.

"I'm not interested in joining the noble faction or even the revolutionary faction, both have a greater impact than profit"

Looking towards the window, not wanting to look at the person in front of you.

"You know that-"

You cut off Leon who hadn't finished speaking.

"I might as well get married soon, since father died, mother insisted on marrying me to one of the nobles"

You didn't see Leon's expression, thinking he was just giving a disinterested reaction, too bad, Leon's expression was the expression when he found out that his maid Sally Bristol was a spy, Grace Riddle or the expression when he was betrayed.

Betrayed and in pain!.

"Do you accept it?"

His tone wasn't as friendly as before.

"I'm still thinking about it, I don't think it's a bad idea"

Leon looked at you who seemed, or very uninterested in interacting with him, since when were you like this?

Asking once again, Leon looked straight at your face.

"From which family?"

"Not really sure, but I think from the Earl noble family"

Earl nobles, Nobles with hereditary titles who still have the same blood as the royal family.

"Is that so..."

That was the last sentence before Leon go  from your marquess residence.

.

.

.

"ARGGH!"

"Aakhh!!"

"Mercy! Help!!! Sorry! Capt-"

Blood splatters, and human bodies in the torture chamber.

Leon, covered in blood up and down his body.

Losing Sally Bristol or Grace Riddle might have had its own impact on him, but hearing you who was going to marry someone he didn't even know who it was... that was a different case.

His heart... hurt, it hurt so much when you said it without the slightest restraint!.

Walking up the stairs, Leon entered his study, sat down near his desk, slowly untied his tie, leaned his head on the chair.

Eyes gazing far away, Leon still remembered when you first met him, when you were both 8 years old.

.

.

Count Winston residence.

Leon, 8 years old.

His father was always excited when he talked about the marquess noble family.

There in front of the entrance, Leon saw, a man who was the same age as his father was chatting enthusiastically with his father, who Leon knew his father and the man or marquess had the same vision and mission about the order of this world.

That's where Leon saw, a little girl, beside the marquess man, had hair as dark as night, but her eyes were... amethyst eyes, unusual eyes.

"Leon come here"

His father bowed and introduced him to the girl in front of him.

Smiling very sweetly at him, Leon's heart beat fast.

From there, the two of you became close.

2 months, was the time when the marquess and count families met at the Summer resort, Leon talked a lot with you, full of enthusiasm, until when you asked permission to go to the bathroom, that's where Leon saw a girl, brown hair, and turquoise eyes, Leon was interested, he even shared his first kiss with the girl.

Strange, he felt he had lost something, but Leon didn't know what.

Since the resort, Leon felt you distanced yourself from him, distancing yourself and almost as if you didn't want to interact with him.

.

.

.

Exhaling, releasing smoke from his cigar.

Looking at the table, a framed photo of you and Leon, at the Belvelhera restaurant, 19 years old, you smiled so beautifully there, just passed the practical exam to enter internal medicine, unfortunately, the glass frame was stained with Leon's love fluid.

Emotions, passion, and possession, Leon reaped with many beats of his frustration.

You've driven him crazy! Even Grace lost to you!.

Leon thought Sally or Grace was so attractive because of her beautiful face and unique eyes, like you who are beautiful and unique.

Leon did many things to the woman, torturing her, forcing her and so on, but Leon did not cross the line to sleep with her, only biting her neck or kissing her lips, even though every time Leon did that, his heart ached.

Why did he just realize this? His junior always tenses when you look at him or just call his name, he thinks it's a normal reaction when the weather is hot.

Chuckling softly, Leon covers the glass photo frame with his black handkerchief grinning.

"Damn... what have you done to me... my lady"

.

2 weeks, is the time Leon didn't meet you, the reason is simple, Leon is afraid of losing control of himself, from before until now, when he sees Sally Bristol or Grace Riddle sweeping, cleaning the floor or doing maid work.

Why does he always think dirty things about you? Even though you're not by his side, seeing Sally as you.

Doing many dirty things, wanting to push you to your limits, begging or rebelling, which one will you choose... Leon really wants to know that.

Crazy huh, he's crazy, crazy about you, why can't he even realize quickly, from being tense, always thinking dirty things about you when someone like Sally/Grace or a woman who has unique eyes passes by him.

Leon stared at the pile of prisoners of revolution, bleeding, tortured.

And he even met Grace Riddle again, the woman tried to double as his maid again, well of course it was impossible

.

.

You are currently walking with the son of the Earl, this man is handsome, but unfortunately he honestly said that he has fallen in love with someone else.

Well you think his courage and honesty are commendable.

"do you like it?"

Vincent is the name of this man, holding a bouquet of roses, you just smile formally and nod at him.

"This is beautiful"

Too bad, you didn't see from across the street, in a 5-star elite restaurant, Leon was staring at you smiling beautifully by another man!.

.

.

Leon for 2 weeks spied on you with that country man, laughing smiling beautifully, holding the man's hand, Leon almost wanted to kill and torture the man!.

Too bad his frustration was vented when When he saw Grace Riddle, pulled her, and kissed her roughly on the lips, his brain mistook Grace for you.

Unfortunately, you accidentally passed them and found them kissing! Awkward! Of course, you and Vincent quickly left the restaurant room.

Damn! Damnit!! You saw him! You saw him kissing another woman!.

You must have considered him impure and dirty!!.

.

.

Leon spent his day and night in frustration.

Instead of getting closer when he tried to interact with you a lot, you actually moved further away from him!.

You even let that country bumpkin from the earl family kiss your cheeks!.

Enough! The problem with Grace Riddle is no longer there, so why should Leon hold back from seeing you with another man?

.

.

Leon Winston's residence.

Master bedroom.

In bed, fast asleep, a woman, both hands cuffed to each bedpost, naked, many kiss marks, and love fluids, puffy eyes, because of crying.

Leon, sitting on the sofa facing the bed, smoking his cigars, wearing only a shirt and long black pants.

His captain's jacket uniform has been forgotten on the floor.

He took your virginity, damn... you even took his virginity too.

See right? As Leon expected, you are perfect for each other, inseparable.

How evil you are to want to be separated from your true love.

.

.

Putting out his cigars, Leon, took a small black whip.

Walking slowly to the bed, his leather shoes made a very loud sound! You even woke up.

Staring at Leon in fear! You don't want to be slept with anymore! Your body hurts and you want to rest!.

Why is it like this? Leon kidnapped you, took you to a foreign country and married you by force!

Staring at Leon who was holding a long black object that looked like a whip, you shook your head.

"Leon!! Please... no more.. I don't want to"

Leon just grinned and wiped your tears slowly.

"Why cry my love? You will be safe because I am with you"

Kissing your forehead softly.

"You are for me, and I am for you, you are crazy for me, and I am crazy for you, my love"

Kissing your lips, devouring them with passion, and ownership.

"I want to keep making love to you my love, until you don't think about the world, but me"

On top of you, opening his shirt, his chest, arms and neck are full of scratches from your previous actions.

"Because my love, you are for me, and I am for you, we mean to be together"

.

.

.

*Source Image : Pinterest

*Source Image : Pinterest

*Source Image : Pinterest

©️Nymphea0 2024 ,OG story, Project Dark Manhwa Character Story.

Tag list; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger @thehopingfairy

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions, Always be good people Dear. Much love, Neva🦋🦋.

[cowboybeepboop]

Wild ride

"Damn, Y/N," he murmured, running his hand through your mildly tangled hair. "You're something else."

You smile, feeling utterly sated and content. "And don't you forget it, cowboy," you reply, planting a lazy kiss onto his bare chest.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 5206

Summary: Tyler comforts you through a panic attack after a storm. He then rescues you from your fight with Javi. You take a drive to a hotel and then things get very heated.

a/n: this is entirely a reader insert to the movie bc I thought it would fit so perfectly. Also this is the longest oneshot I’ve ever wrote lmao 😭 Hopefully you enjoy!

When you moved to New York it wasn’t just to get away from the place where your friends all died. It was because you couldn’t live there without feeling guilt about being the reason everyone was out there to begin with. The shame and guilt was burning you, inside and out. All for what? What did it get you? Nothing. If you couldn’t tame a tornado you were going to do everything in your power to help people prepare and get out before it was too late. So when Javi came to you asking for help with storm par, you wanted to tell him no. You wanted to say that there was no way you could ever possibly go back not after what you did.

But when he was explaining how they would be making a perfect 3D scan of the tornado and how it can be used to help save lives, you knew you had to help. He was right. You could get him close enough to the tornado in order to set up the portable units.

As time passes you find yourself more intrigued by the self proclaimed “Tornado Wrangler”, whatever that’s supposed to mean. At the same time though, he’s frustrating. Like all he cares about is chasing the storm and making money instead of realizing how much damage these things cause.

“Javi, we have to help.” You say sternly as he keeps talking about the stupid sensor. “Javi! It’s a small town, they’re going to need all the help they can get, we need to help.” He sighs.

“Alright, alright. I’ll look for it later, okay?” You press a hand to his arm gently. “You made a good call. They really do need our help.” Javi pulls off to the side of the road, taking the keys out. You quickly leave the truck and go off to help.

We worked through the afternoon, finding lost heirlooms, important documents, and small mementos that people had thought were lost forever. Each time, their faces would light up with relief, and I’d feel a small sense of satisfaction, knowing I could make a difference.

The sun had broken through the clouds, casting long shadows over the town. The cleanup was far from over, but the worst was behind us. People were starting to talk again, making plans to rebuild. There was a sense of hope in the air, fragile but growing stronger with each passing minute.

You’re watching Javi and Scott interacting with an old guy and someone who lost their bar. Your eyebrows furrow as they offer him a card. “Didn’t know storm par was in the business of helping people,” you hear the familiar cowboy’s voice ringing through the air.

”Well, from what I see they’re trying to make a difference.” You turn to look at Tyler, wrapping your arms around your upper body.

”That’s one way of putting it,” he narrows his eyes while looking behind you at Javi.

“What?” you clench your jaw.

“Do you even know who you’re chasing for?”, his voice raises slightly. ”How much more do these people got to lose before y’all are done making a difference?” His face tightens as he grinds his teeth slightly.

”Sorry, says the guy setting up shop selling t-shirts and mugs after a storm’s hit.” You turn around before he can answer. Pulling the keys Javi gave you out of your pocket. Right as you’re reaching for the door, Lily yells your name.

”Hey, take some food,” she hands you a brown takeout box and a water bottle.

”Oh, I don’t have any cash on me,” you give a half smile.

”It’s okay, that’s why we're always selling shirts and mugs, so we can help give people food.” You shake your head as your eyes widen slightly.

”Then you should keep it, in case you run out.” She hands you the water bottle.

“At least take the water, stay hydrated.” You nod and tell her to stay safe.

Once you get back to the motel you quickly take a shower. Sitting down on the bed with your laptop you look up “Marshall Riggs” you bite down on your cheek, your eyes closing after you read up on him. Pinching your nose bridge you let out a sigh, closing the device.

There’s a knock at the door, you get up slowly and open it. “Some of Javi’s crew said you were staying down by the rodeo.” You don’t say anything in return so he offers you a small pizza box. “Thought you might be hungry,” you take it and shut the door in his face.

You reopen the door, “Thank you, Tyler.” He smiles sweetly.

“How are you doin’, after all that?” Your head nods softly. “How about I show you something nice, city girl.” He offers you his arm.

”And what’s that?” Stepping out of your room you close and lock the door before taking his arm. He doesn’t reply but instead leads you to the stadium at the rodeo. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden light over the dusty rodeo grounds. The air buzzed with excitement and the scent of grilled food, mingling with the earthy smell of the arena. Families filled the bleachers, kids waving flags and clutching cotton candy, while seasoned rodeo-goers leaned against the rails, hats tipped low, eyes sharp with anticipation.

As the night wore on, the rodeo continued—steer wrestling, bronc riding, and more, each event bringing its own excitement and challenges. The crowd cheered, laughed, and gasped, caught up in the spectacle. In the arena, cowboys were competing in the team roping event. Dust kicked up as the horses thundered forward, riders expertly casting their lassos around the horns of the steers. The crowd roared with approval when a duo managed to secure a flawless catch, the announcer’s voice booming in congratulations.

“So tell me about yourself city girl,” Tyler’s voice is low and gentle.

“You know you keep calling me that,” you turn to him, “ but this isn’t my first rodeo, I grew up here in Oklahoma.” Turning back to the events in front of you.

“Would you look at that, I finally learned something about you.” His lips curve up as he admires your side profile.

Back behind the scenes, in the holding pens, a few of the seasoned ranch hands started to glance nervously at the sky. They could see it now—a line of dark, swirling clouds on the horizon, moving faster than seemed natural. A wind had picked up, too, sharper and colder than it had been just minutes ago. But the rodeo continued, the excitement and noise drowning out any sense of unease.

A leaf falls onto your head, you reach your hand up into the air as you watch the leaves fall around you. “Tyler, the air feels heavy, this isn’t right.”

In the ring, the next event was starting: the barrel racing. A young girl was about to make her run when a sharp crack of thunder boomed overhead, so loud it momentarily drowned out the announcer. The crowd murmured, looking up at the sky as the first raindrops began to fall. But as she rounded the first barrel, the wind hit, strong and fierce, whipping dust and debris across the arena. The rain intensified, turning into a heavy downpour that sent people in the stands scrambling for cover. The announcer tried to keep up the energy, but his voice was lost in the wind. In the distance, a low, ominous rumble filled the air—not thunder this time, but something far more menacing.

There's barely time to react before the rodeo’s emergency siren began to wail, a long, shrill warning that sent a chill down everyone’s spine. People were running, some heading for their cars, others diving for the nearest ditch or sturdy structure. The craze of people began pushing and trampling one another, Tyler quickly grabs a woman who fell. He helps her up to her feet and guides you toward the hotel you’re staying at.

“There! Let’s check for a basement,” you nod as you both run inside. There’s a couple arguing with the clerk, you’re checking around for a doorway that might lead to a basement. Tyler tries to ask the man working the front desk but to no avail. “Outside, there’s an empty pool.” You yell to Tyler, “we can try there” he nods and you begin leading the young mother and daughter out the door, Owen’s and the man follow close behind. Once you get the mother and girl down you jump in. Directing them toward the open piping. “Hold on there, cover her head.”

You grasp onto the pipes holding on tight as you feel Tyler’s chest pressing against your back. He keeps his hands tight around the bars, he keeps himself tight against you making sure you don’t move.

“You’re gonna be okay, keep holding on. I’ve got you. I’ve got you” he’s whispering into your ear. You tightly squeeze your eyes shut feeling as though you’re being transported back to the day when you lost everything.

It started with a flutter in your chest, like the faint rustling of wings. You tried to ignore it, chalking it up to nerves, but the flutter didn’t go away. Instead, it grew stronger, spreading through your body like wildfire. Your breathing quickened, shallow and rapid, each breath feeling like it wasn’t enough, like there wasn’t enough air.

It started with trembling hands, and then your whole body followed, shaking uncontrollably. Feeling lightheaded, as if the ground beneath you had suddenly disappeared, leaving you suspended in a void. My chest tightened, squeezing tighter and tighter, making it even harder to breathe.

As quickly as the storm had begun, it passed over. Tyler wraps his arms around you. “Y/N? Is everything okay?” Your body continues to shake as you can’t seem to breathe. “It’s okay, just follow my breathing,” he turns you around so your face is in his chest.

”Deep breaths, in and out,” Tyler gives gentle directions as he rubs his palms over your arms.

”I think I’m okay now..” your voice is soft and hoarse as you choke the words out. His cold, rough hand gently brushes the hair from your face.

“You look like you’ve been through hell tonight.” He says, while helping you out of the pool. You stifle a small laugh in response. Boone and the rest of his crew come up to the pair of you, asking if you’re both alright.

“Y/N, baby. Are you okay?” Javi appears behind you, his hands gently pressing into your hips as he pulls you into a tight hug.

Tyler feels a pang of jealousy as he watches Javi slide his hands lovingly around your hips and pull you into the hug. He tries to shake the feeling, reminding himself that it’s not his place to care. Still, he can’t help but feel a sense of protectiveness wash over him.

“I came as soon as I heard,” his eyes filled with worry as you looked up at him. “Where did you hide out? The pool?” You just nod in response, finding comfort in his arms. Javi keeps repeatedly asking if you’re okay, running his fingers through your hair and resting one hand on your waist.

“Yes, I’m okay. It’s okay,” you pull away from him, giving a soft smile. “I was with Tyler the whole time, he made sure I was okay.” He nods but his eyes flicker behind you.

“Javi, your little girlfriend is fine, now let's get to work.” Scott says loudly, catching the attention of Tyler and Lily. “Apparently this place was family owned so I’m gonna start working on numbers. Riggs is gonna want those first thing.” His voice and face are both emotionless and cold, sending a slight shiver down your spine.

“Wait wait,” you hold onto his arm. “What exactly is Riggs getting out of all your data collection?”

“What’s the matter?” He scratches his neck and awkward expression flashing over his features.

“Is profiting off of people’s tragedy part of your business plan? Why are you doing this?” You pull away from his body.

“Riggs is offering these people a way to move on with their lives.” He takes a step back from you, his voice raising slightly.

“Swooping in and taking advantage of people, who have just lost everything” you take a deep breath to steady your shaky voice “You have no idea what that’s like”

“I don’t know what that’s like?” His fist clenches “How about losing three of my best friends while you were trying to land a big fat grant for your science project?”

Your eyes fill with fresh tears as you look up at him, lip quivering. “Take your keys, I’m done.” You toss them at his feet walking off as fast as you can. Finding yourself drawn to Tyler and his wrangler team.

Tyler witnessed the whole exchange, and his protective instinct flares up again. He watches you stomp away from Javi, a mixture of anger and concern etched on his face. He notices the tears in your eyes and the wobble in your lip. He steps forward and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”

“Can you just take me somewhere please?” Your voice trembles while Javi yells after you. Asking you not to leave like this.

Tyler shoots a warning glare over his shoulder at Javi before turning back to you. “Of course, darling. Anywhere you want to go.” Owen’s voice is soft and soothing, a stark contrast to his rough exterior.

He gently takes your elbow, steering you away from Javi, and his crew. Tyler leads you over to his Truck in the parking lot where the motel once was, his hand still on your elbow. Tyler opens the passenger door and guides you onto the seat, shutting the door before making his way around to the driver's side.

A sigh escapes your lips as you relax into the seat. You softly massage your nose bridge keeping your eyes squeezed shut as a tear escapes one of your eyes.

Tyler watches you silently as you try to regain your composure. He can sense the pain and hurt radiating off of you, and he wishes he could take it all away. After a few moments, he breaks the silence. “Hey, look at me for a second.” He puts his hand on your knee rubbing small circles into your skin.

You open up your eyes, turning to look at him. Your lip still quivering slightly. Tyler’s heart aches as he looks into your tearful eyes. He reaches out and gently wipes the tear away with his thumb, his rough hands surprisingly tender against your face.

“Hey, you don’t need to worry about anything right now. You’re gonna stay with me tonight, okay?” His hand travels down your cheek as he leans over and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Before he starts the car he reaches into the backseat pulling out one of his hats, putting it on with his signature smile.

“You know, you deserve way better than that,” he turns the keys in the ignition. “You can do way better than him anyway.” You giggle while brushing your teary eyes.

“Do you think Javi and I are a couple?” Your once sorrow filled eyes light up with your laugh. A small smile tugs at the corner of Tyler's mouth as he watches you laugh. The sight of your smile warms his heart, and the pang of jealousy eases a bit.

“I mean, he seemed pretty possessive of you back there. And the way he was touchin’ up on you…” he lets his voice trail off, his jaw clenching slightly at the memory.

“Don’t tell me that makes you jealous,” a small smirk decorates your lips. You lean closer to his side, turning your body to further face him.

Tyler’s breath hitches as you lean closer to him, a wave of electricity coursing through his veins. He tries to keep his cool, but the hint of possessiveness flickers in his eyes once again.

“Jealous? Me?” he scoffs, trying to convince himself more than you.

Your eyes light up “Oh you’re totally jealous,” you brush your fingers over the skin on his arms, moving your hand to meet his.

A shiver runs down Tyler’s spine as your fingers travel along his skin, his heartbeat quickening at your touch. He tries to maintain a cool demeanor, but the flutter in his chest gives him away.

“Jealous? Of that jackass?”, his voice a little rougher this time. He looks down at your hand in his, noticing how small and delicate it looks against his own, rough and calloused hands. He swallows hard, fighting the urge to interlace his fingers with yours.

“Is that so?” You interlock your fingers with his as you lean over to kiss his temple. “It’s okay to be jealous, just tell me you don’t like seeing other men touching me,” you whisper into his ear, your voice filled with amusement.

Tyler takes a sharp breath as you interlace your fingers with his, his hand clamping tight around yours. “It does make me jealous,” he admits, his voice a gravelly whisper. His free hand squeezes the steering wheel, the muscles in his arm flexing tightly. “Alright, I don’t like seeing other men touchin’ you.” He brushes his thumb over the top of your hand.

A blush quickly rises up your face as you squeeze his hand firmly. Resting your head against his shoulder you bite down on the inside of your cheek. “Are we almost to a hotel?” Your heart races as you feel the muscles in his arm flexing.

Tyler glances out the window at the passing scenery, trying to distract himself from the feeling of you resting against his shoulder. He clears his throat before speaking, his voice still low and rough.

“We’re almost there. Just a few more minutes.” He rubs his thumb over your knuckles, the gentle movement betraying the tension in his body. He can’t help but steal a glance down at you, taking in your blushing face and the way you bite down on your lip. He fights the urge to pull you into his lap and press his lips against yours.

Using your free hand you run your fingers over his thigh, letting your mind wander as you think about your plans for the night. Trailing your hand closer and closer to his hips teasingly.

Tyler’s breath hitches as you run your fingers along his thigh, his body tense as you trail your hand closer to his hips. His mind starts racing with impure thoughts, visions of you pinned beneath him, your skin against his. He swallows hard, his muscles tensing further as he tries to control himself.

“You’re playin’ a dangerous game, you know that?” his voice low and rough, almost coming out as a growl.

“Yeah?” You run your fingers over his golden belt buckle, “I like dangerous games,” your tongue poking out as you lick your bottom lip.

Tyler swallows hard when you touch his golden belt buckle, his body shuddering under your touch. He shifts in his seat, trying to hide the effect you’re having on him while also struggling to keep his eyes on the road.

“Oh yeah? How dangerous are you willing to go?” he asks, his voice thick with desire. He glances down at your tongue on your lip, his eyes darkening as he imagines what it would feel like against his skin.

“That depends, love,” you press soft kisses into his neck, moving your hand from his, resting it on his chest. “How far are you gonna wanna go?” Your eyes flicker to the hotel sign as the truck pulls into the parking lot.

Tyler lets out a shaky breath as you pepper kisses along his neck, his heart stuttering at the feeling of your lips on his skin. He places a hand over yours on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart thundering beneath your touch.

“Damn, darlin’, you’re really testing my limits right now.” he manages to say, his voice a growl. “But if it were up to me I’d go as far as you’d let me.”

He looks out the window as the truck pulls into the hotel parking lot, his mind racing with all the possibilities that the night holds. He leaps out of the truck running to your side to open the door for you.

“Well, you better hurry up and find us a room then,” you shut the door behind you. You pull the hat from his head, placing it on yours.

Tyler watches you stride ahead of him, his eyes drinking in the sight of his hat sitting on your head. He adjusts his jeans, trying to hide the stiffness growing in his groin as he follows you up to the hotel check-in desk.

“You’re a damn tease, you know that?” he mutters to you as he gets the room keys from the attendant. You flash him an innocent smile as you step into the elevator.

“But you’re too cute when you’re flustered.” Looking up at him you press both hands against his well-built abs. You slip your thigh between his legs as he reaches for the buttons on the elevator, pressing into his groin.

Tyler’s breath hitches at the feel of your hands on his stomach, his muscles flexing under your touch. His heart nearly pounds out of his chest as your thigh brushes against his stiffness, a guttural groan escaping his lips at the contact.

“Jesus, darlin'...you’re gonna be the death of me.” he pants, the words thick with lust. He struggles with the elevator buttons, his hands fumbling as his mind becomes increasingly clouded with need.

You stand up on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear “That’s the plan,”. You move one hand up to his jaw, pulling his face to yours. “Are you gonna kiss me yet?” You mumble.

Tyler swallows hard as you tease his ear with your hot breath, his body growing taut with desire. He looks down at your face, his gaze fixated on your lips as you speak. The words send a shiver down his spine, his restraint slipping by the second.

“You want me to kiss you, darlin’?” his lips hover just above your own. He runs a thumb across your lower lip, his eyes darkened by lust.

“Tyler, I want you to do much more than just kiss me.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you press your chest against his. “Please,” you breathe out. The elevator dings as you get to the floor of your room.

Tyler’s control snaps at your words, a low growl escaping his lips as you press against him. He grabs your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you close, the pleading tone of your voice nearly undoing him.

“Don’t gotta ask me twice, darlin’” He mutters, his voice low and gravelly. He picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you out of the elevator and towards your room. You giggle into his ear while he unlocks the door.

Tyler grins at the sound of your giggles, his chest rumbling with a satisfied chuckle. He kicks the hotel door open, his eyes locking on the queen-sized bed in the center of the room. He sets you down on the edge of the bed, towering over you as he places his hands on your thighs. You both kick your shoes off really quickly before getting back to it.

Your hand goes to the back of his neck as you pull his face to yours. You kiss him with hunger. Your free hand sliding up his shirt as you feel his smooth abs.

Tyler groans deep in his throat as you pull him towards you, his body responding instantly to your touch. He devours your lips with a primal need, his tongue exploring your mouth as he presses his body up against yours. His muscles twitch under your hand, fire spreading through his veins as you glide your fingers across his abs.

“Goddamn it, Y/N… you're makin' me crazy.” he gasps, his voice thick with desire. He kisses you again, his hands roaming up your thighs, tracing the curves of your body with rough yet tender caresses.

Your hands trail down his abdomen, landing on his belt buckle once again. Your fingers fumble with his belt before successfully pulling it out. Breaking the kiss you quickly remove your shirt, throwing it to the corner of the room.

“Mm Ty…” sucking on your bottom lip as you lean back on your hands while looking up at him seductively.

Tyler sucks in a sharp breath, his body tensing under your touch. Once you remove your shirt, revealing the soft skin beneath, his gaze trails over your body, his eyes darkened by lust. He watches you lean back on the bed, your eyes locking with his in a sultry gaze.

“Mmm darlin’...” you sit up and pull him closer by the loops on his jeans, his strong legs coming between your own, spreading them apart. Lifting up his shirt you press kisses all over his tanned skin.

He reaches his hand out to touch your exposed skin, his fingers gently tracing your collarbone. “Then why don’t you do something about it baby?” You ask in a low tone.

His hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer as you spread your legs even wider for him. “Oh baby, you don't know what you're gettin' yourself into” he whispers, his voice rumbling with need.

He suddenly grips your hips tightly and flips you onto your back, his body hovering over yours as he pins you against the bed. Reaching up you pull his shirt over his head almost moaning at the sight of his toned body.

He smirks as he watches your eyes rake over him, his ego growing at your reaction. “You like what you see, Y/N?” He asks, his voice rough with desire as he looks down at you, his body pressing against yours.

“Most definitely,” you capture his lips in a deep kiss, maneuvering to put him on his back, straddling his hips. Moving back you unbutton his jeans and slide the zipper down. Pulling the pants off his hips you smile to yourself as you see how worked up you got him. Your hand slips into his boxers wrapping around his length.

He lets out a guttural moan, body arching into yours at the contact. “Oh God, baby…” he gasps, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a string of curses. Tyler's sharp intake of breath was your reward, and you relish in the feeling of power it gives you. He grips the bed sheets tightly as you pull his dick out, wrapping your lips around the tip.

“Fuck,” he moans as you pull off and sit back on the bed, making sure your teasing antics continue. All you really want is for Tyler to take complete control and you know exactly how to make him. With slow, purposeful movements, you remove your bra, freeing your breasts and running gentle hands over your own body, nipples hardening under your touch. Then you sit back, pulling your panties off, giving him a show.

Tyler's breathing quickens, his desire palpable. "Damn it, Y/N, you know what I want," he said, his voice thick with need. "Stop teasing and give it to me."

A slow, seductive smile spreads across your face. "I'm not teasing, Tyler," you say, reaching for his hand and placing it on your thigh. "I'm just getting started." Guiding his hand, you slowly part your legs, exposing your wet, eager pussy to his touch. Tyler's fingers delve between the folds, his touch both gentle and demanding. You moan, eyebrows furrowing as you squeeze your eyes shut, your head falling back while you relish in the sensation.

"That's it," you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as your eyebrows furrow with pleasure. "Touch me, Tyler. Make me cum." Your voice comes out in a gentle beg.

Tyler's other hand joins the first, exploring your most intimate places, his thumbs circling your clit as he plunged his fingers into the tight hole. Your hips buck as you begin riding his hands with waves of pleasure crashing over you.

"Yes, just like that," you pant, your body trembling. "Oh, God, Tyler, don't stop. I'm so close."

Tyler quickens his pace, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. "Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice hoarse with desire. "Let me feel you fall apart."

With a sharp cry, you climax, your body shaking uncontrollably as pleasure rips through your entire body. Tyler continues working his magic, drawing out your orgasm and prolonging the exquisite sensation.

Finally, as the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse into the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch a breath. Tyler hovers over your frame, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of triumph and desire.

"That," he said, his voice raw, "was just the beginning. Especially after all of that teasing you did,” his voice low and sultry. Tyler's lips curve into a devilish smile as he positions himself between your trembling legs. In one smooth thrust, he enters you, filling you completely. Moaning at the stretch, your body welcomes the invasion.

Tyler begin to move, his hips driving into you with a rhythmic pace. Meeting his thrusts, your nails digging into his back as you urge him on. The bed creaks in time with their passionate dance, the sound of your guys’s passionate gasps and moans filling the room.

"Harder, Tyler," you moan, your body craving much more. "Fuck me harder."

Tyler obliges, his movements becoming more urgent as he plunges into you again and again. The room echos with the sounds of your carnal coupling, the air heavy with the scent of sex.

Your body coils tight once more, climbing towards another orgasm. "I'm gonna cum again," you cry out, voice hoarse. "Don't stop, Tyler, please don't stop."

Tyler grunts his response, his own orgasm building. He reaches between their bodies, his fingers finding your slightly swollen clit and rubbing it in circles. It was all the stimulation you needed, and with a shout of release, you shatter into pieces, juices flooding around Tyler's hard cock.

Feeling you contracting around him, Tyler finally let go, thrusting deeply into you. Moaning into your ear as he spilled his seed, filling you with his warmth. You both cling to each other, breathing coming in ragged gasps as the two of you ride out the waves of your shared ecstasy. Collapsing onto the bed, bodies still joined, Tyler rolls onto his back, bringing your exhausted body with him so laying sprawled on top of him.

"Damn, Y/N," he murmured, running his hand through your mildly tangled hair. "You're something else."

You smile, feeling utterly sated and content. "And don't you forget it, cowboy," you reply, planting a lazy kiss onto his bare chest.

a/n (again): sorry just wanted to say that I’m working on making some more twisters smut, but i also have top gun maverick smut if y’all wanna check that out 😝🙏

[official-cvntified-gay]

Flight Attendant: A Pilot's Special

❥ Pilot!Abby Anderson x Flight Attendant!Reader

❥ note: ugh I'm a whore for captain abby, I wrote this after I read a captain abby oneshot in ao3. Also request is open<3

The plane was getting prepped for another day in the sky. The sun barely peeked over the horizon, casting a warm orange glow on the tarmac, and you could feel the buzz of excitement mingled with nervousness coursing through your veins. It was your first day as a flight attendant—something you had worked hard for—and you wanted everything to go perfectly.

Dressed in your crisp uniform, you made sure your hair was in place, your name tag shining proudly on your chest. You took a deep breath before stepping onto the plane, your heart thudding against your ribs as you imagined the hundreds of things that could go wrong.

"Relax, you've got this," you muttered under your breath, trying to psych yourself up.

“First day, huh?” A voice broke through your thoughts.

You turned to see a woman standing tall with an air of authority, her blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her uniform neat and immaculate. Abby Anderson, the captain. Her reputation preceded her—known for being efficient, cold, and not exactly the warmest person on board. People whispered about her strict demeanor, her professionalism that sometimes felt intimidating.

"Y-yeah," you stammered, taken aback by her sudden presence.

“Captain Anderson,” she introduced herself, not offering a handshake. Her blue eyes bore into yours, unreadable, as she nodded. “I expect everything to run smoothly.”

“Yes, Captain,” you replied quickly, trying not to let her intimidating presence throw you off.

She gave you a curt nod before turning away. You could feel the weight of her authority, the way she commanded attention without even trying. As you went about your duties, you noticed how the other crew members seemed tense around her. She wasn’t mean, exactly—just...distant. Detached. Every movement was precise, every word clipped, like she was too busy to waste time on pleasantries.

But then, something strange happened.

Every so often, you caught her glancing your way. When she passed by, there was an almost imperceptible softening in her expression, a flicker of something warmer. You thought it was just your imagination, but then it happened again—and again.

It wasn’t until halfway through the flight that she approached you directly.

"You're doing well for your first day." Her voice was still professional, but there was a teasing edge to it now, a hint of something more.

"Thank you, Captain," you replied, trying to sound as professional as possible, but you could feel your cheeks heating under her gaze.

"Abby," she corrected, her tone softer. She took a step closer, and your breath caught in your throat. "No need for formalities when it's just the two of us."

"Abby," you repeated, the name feeling foreign on your tongue.

She smirked, her eyes sparkling with something mischievous. “You look a little nervous, you know. Is it me? Because I swear I don’t bite... unless you ask nicely.”

Your eyes widened, heat rising in your cheeks. "W-what?"

Abby chuckled, a low, deep sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Relax. I’m just messing with you.” She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice so only you could hear. “Or maybe I’m not.”

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything but the way her presence seemed to engulf you. Was this really happening? The stoic, cold Captain Anderson was flirting with you?

For the rest of the flight, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Abby’s eyes on you. Every time you passed her in the cockpit or while making rounds, her gaze lingered just a little too long, a teasing smile pulling at her lips.

By the end of the shift, you were a bundle of nerves and confusion. You were standing by the exit, helping passengers disembark when Abby approached you once again, standing a little too close.

“You did good today,” she murmured, her voice low enough that only you could hear. “I like a woman who can keep her cool under pressure.”

“I-I try,” you managed to stammer, your brain short-circuiting from her proximity.

"Mm, I noticed." She leaned in, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered, "You should let me take you out for a drink sometime. Help you unwind after a long day."

Your heart was pounding in your chest. Was this a joke? Was she serious? But when you turned to meet her gaze, the playful glint in her eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“I— uh— I don’t know—” you started, but Abby cut you off with a smirk.

“Think about it.” She winked, her voice dripping with confidence. “I’m a patient woman.”

She turned to leave, walking off with that same air of cool detachment she always had. But this time, there was a sway in her step that told you she knew exactly what effect she had on you.

For the next few weeks, Abby didn’t let up. Every time you were on the same flight, she found some excuse to be near you. She'd make a casual comment, brush past you just close enough to make your skin tingle, and offer you those teasing little smiles that left you breathless.

One day, you were struggling with a particularly heavy overhead bin when Abby appeared out of nowhere, easily pushing it into place with one hand.

“Need some help?” she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

“I had it,” you muttered, embarrassed that she had caught you in such a moment of weakness.

“Of course you did.” She grinned, leaning in slightly. “But I’m here if you need me. Always.”

Her words lingered long after she walked away, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your thoughts spinning. You couldn’t deny it any longer—Abby Anderson had a hold on you, and she knew it.

Every time she smiled at you, every time she teased you, you found yourself falling deeper. And Abby? She was relentless in her pursuit.

She was the Captain, after all—and she always got what she wanted.

And this time, what she wanted was you.

[hypnagogics]

heh.. okay, so you asked for different.. rubs hands together villaniously as i materialize from the bottomless shadows..

sub!vampire!ellie biting/bloodsucking denial.. reminding her how much of a good girl she needs to be even when your wrist is practically just brushing past her lips to cradle her face.. or when the weakest bead of blood is pricked from your finger.. flaunting it.. teasing.. goddess bless throw in whatever else you see fit freakmaster

TEMPTATION WAITS

before you read! ▪︎ my masterlist ☆: co-president...this is absolutely divine...shoulda seen the way i dropped everything for this im literally #TWEAKING. new fav thing i've ever written methinks. title song. (vibes aren't there but the title was too good.) ps: if you spot any typos i wrote this with one hand. KIDDING...or am i? divider creds—cafekitsune. ◇: not outright smut, but still suggestive!! and nsfw is described. fluffy end bc i think she earned it, lore sprinkled in because why nawt it's interesting, finger sucking (e! receiving), this is maybe a lil ooc idrc, she's described as looking quite ill in her vampiric form + begs like her century long life depends on it fr, (but also has a bit of an attitude, it issss ellie after all), mean!r, talk of blood/previous bite wounds. ++ 3.3k wc. doesn't need to be that long but atp? take it or leave it LOLL. filing under "oneshots" bc it's way more than usual reqs hehe.

“Please, baby. Just one taste. I'll do anything.” Desperate, shaky pleas spilled from Ellie, her voice noticeably tired from the effort. She's been at this for what felt like forever now, and you were getting tired of ignoring her. Or rather, a little bored.

She was kneeling on the wooden floor by your bed, fisting the creased sheets, trying to capture your attention. The shimmering moonlight was dancing on her features as if it was a sparkle of fireflies, making her oddly colored eyes appear to glow, and highlighting her sickly appearance.

In her vampiric form, her skin was tinted a ghostly—even chalky—white, barely a smidgen of blush dancing on the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes shifted from their original grassy green to a peculiar duochrome blend of emerald and ruby. She really looked unwell, but you knew it was merely a product of circumstance, her gloomy fate.

Ellie donned somber dark circles around her eyes, her lips withered, pale, and thin as a piece of tissue paper. Just behind them though, rested two deadly weapons of her very own—sizeable, razor-sharp, gleaming ivory canines reflecting the scarce lighting as if they were made of mirrored glass.

For the first time tonight, you met her gaze, assuming an unbreakable poker face. Her keen sight could pick out the most subtle of twitches, so you learned to defeat that. The moment you met her line of sight she perked up, her eyes widening in glee, you had finally acknowledged her existence after so long.

Scooting forward you placed yourself right in front of her still kneeling form, sitting so she was in between your legs, but she wasn't allowed to touch you until you said so. What torture.

She began again, “Can I do something to make you change your mind? I'll do anything. Anything in the world. I'll make you feel re-really good, and then I won't ask again…ever even, if that's what you want. Just please let me…I'm so thirsty.” She was rambling a million miles a minute, slurring her words and cutting herself off with hiccups, stuttering like was having a nervous breakdown.

Her chest heaving up and down was visible to you despite the dim surroundings, and you could just make out her facial expression—a pained grimace, as if she was experiencing all of humanity's greatest suffering. When you didn't reply but stayed observing her blankly, she sighed and hung her head in shame, you almost felt bad. Almost.

You extend a hand, twirling a strand of her hair—previously silky and vibrant, now as lifeless and dull as charred hay—and you feel her relax under your touch. You continue raking your fingers through her locks, scratching her scalp with your nails, and you hear her exhale forcefully. She's likely overwhelmed by your scent—it's invigorating, fresh, and full of life.

“Have you been good?” You pipe up with a voice colder than ice, softly caressing the flesh of her tense cheek, and letting your fingertips travel to the underside of her chin. You gently tilt her head up, noticing the way her eyelids flutter to a close. She's soaking up the heat radiating off of you, making sure to feel the sensations of your skin brush against hers as much as she can, commit them to memory for when she's apart from you.

Her lips part, allowing for hushed, woeful whimpers to pour out, and she instinctively bites her bottom lip to quiet herself. Only she forgets about the powerful daggers in her mouth, and almost pierces right through her own skin.

Taking notice, you tut at her, warning clicks of your tongue bouncing off the room’s walls, contrasting the dead of night’s eerie silence. Tsk, tsk, tsk. You push the pad of your thumb down on the plush of her lip, angling her jaw side to side, examining those killer gnashers she's got.

“You could hurt yourself with these y'know, be careful.” Her eyelids flicker open, she's staring up at you with the biggest doe eyes she could muster, somehow all while maintaining such a strong glare you feel as if she's trying to challenge you.

“I'll decide if you can have some, as long as you're good, and you let me have some fun first. Alright?” You explain in a neutral tone, earning a cute “mhm” of confirmation from the undead being before you. “Good girl.”

You slowly slip your thumb into her mouth, avoiding her fangs at all costs, and you let her wrap her slippery tongue around your digit, watching how her cheeks hollow and her eyes roll ever so slightly while she sucks, moaning as she takes in your taste—nothing more than just skin.

You chuckle at her desperation, revel in the power dynamic you have created. “Mmm, you taste so good, so sweet.” She mumbles, swirling her tongue around your thumb, coating the entirety of it in her spit. You allow it for now, but soon enough, to no surprise, she slyly tries to shift to the side in preparation to slice you and get her treat.

You sharply retract your hands from her, removing your finger from her mouth with a pop, disappointed by her greed, her audacity. She turns to the side and pouts, huffing and rolling her eyes with more attitude than a moody teen. “What did I say?” You calmly hiss at her. She whispers, almost inaudibly, “Sorry…taste so good, can't help m’self.” Her voice wavered, and the moonlight illuminated the faintest tinge of red across her features, it was nearly invisible.

But you could tell exactly what was up. She shifts uncomfortably in her spot, grunting with laughable, pitiful attempts to rub her thighs together, fingers toying with the cloth of her pants, putting her frustration on full display. You looked at her struggle, unable to contain your grin.

It was a different kind of high, seeing such a feared and fabled beast kneel before you in such a pathetic manner, but it turned you on like nothing else. It was also evident she enjoyed it as well, no matter how much she didn't want you to be aware of the fact. The extent to which she worships you and handles your body, the way she was willing to beg and let you order her around showed just how much you meant to her—it was beautiful in its own way, how devoted she was to you. You were her person.

The fact she couldn't stifle her desire anymore after all this time suggested a shift in the atmosphere of your wicked games, the tension in the air was getting impossibly thicker, and you were loving every second of it.

Ellie, you've got a short memory.” You tease, then gesture to the gauze wrapped around your forearm, protecting two puncture wounds left by none other than her just the previous night. She looks at it and cocks an eyebrow, grouching, “Yeah, I see that, what about it?” The husky edge to her voice had returned, the defiant attitude you loved to crack was back in full force.

“Hundreds of years old, you even have memories of wars, and you can't remember what happened, like, 24 hours ago? Wow…” Your voice is so patronizing, it's unpleasant and abrasive on the ears, even your own. She shrugs her shoulders, still kneeling on the cold, hard ground at your mercy. “Well let's have a refresher then, shall we?” Tearing the tan-colored bandage apart with a single rip, you reveal the puncture marks—they were still wet and irritated, the wounds reopening immediately at the slightest movement.

Ellie whines like an animal, a crude “ahh”, and she starts pleading harder than ever. “Please, baby, my pretty, my angel, please, please, pleasepleaseplease, just lemme have a drop, just one. That's all, I swear.” Her gaze darkens exponentially, if you didn't know her it would instill fear in your heart, but luckily you were well aware of all her tricks. She snarls, “Fuck you. I'm literally on my fucking knees right now. Why are you doing this?” Her voice breaks angrily, wobbling with great lust and need—the need to have you, the need to drink you and fondle you and taste you in all senses of the word, and at this point she didn't seem to care about preserving a morsel of her dignity, she was simply so drunk on you, you couldn't believe.

You reiterate the previously established explanation, “We have an agreement that says you're allowed to take my blood once a month, so you can have some more each time. Rather than taking a little bit but more often, you requested this yourself. And you already drank lots yesterday. Does that not ring a bell?”

She groans, a gravelly, guttural sound that had you coming back to your senses and realizing, this was technically, a monster who you loved so dearly.

It led you to wonder—to her kind, what was so special about the liquid coursing through your veins?

When you split your lip open as a kid, clumsily tumbling face-first onto the asphalt, or bit your tongue while eating something stubborn, the strange, metallic taste was purely disgusting. It had a certain heaviness to it, both physically with the way it sat in your mouth, but also mentally. Like a subconscious awareness you were not meant to consume it like she does, but to spit it out the millisecond it made contact with your taste buds. There were times where the thought made you queasy, the measly knowledge of just how much of this fluid was inside you, keeping you alive.

But to her, it was a completely different story. She lapped it up with such fervor, such thirst you've never seen before. A sloppy frenzy like there wasn't a single thing more delightfully flavorful.

Her teeth penetrating all the way through your epidermis, dermis, and hypodermis, and straight through the vein wall was a feeling you're likely never going to get used to. It stung, it really did, and you were quick to get all woozy from the blood volume loss, but Ellie knew your limits—even though hers were not even close. Her thirst was insatiable.

The intimacy of the act was a whole separate topic to think about too. It was such an erotic experience, and when probed about it she argues it's better than sex, somehow. When she drinks from you, Ellie is really messy with it, you noticed. Blood dribbles down her chin and stains her lips as if it's a designer lip oil, the distinct deep maroon color sometimes appearing clownish and too intense against her fair complexion.

She was really handsy as well, and you weren't sure if it was purposeful, but you didn't care to ask because you didn't really mind in the first place. It felt nice. Her muscular hands tend to trace your waist as she's suckling, hovering by your ass, and traveling north to knead the supple tissue of your breasts.

And how could you forget about the sheer proximity of it all, even when having sex normally, it didn't feel nearly as intimate or vulnerable as this. Her body would be tightly curled around yours, she couldn't bear to have one meager square inch of her not touching you.

When she drank from your neck, it was bordering on heavenly, you had to be honest with yourself. There was something about the combination of the light headed, dizzying feeling it brought you, her closeness, the licking sensations, and the hungry sounds she produced that all together mixed to form nothing short of a mind blowing, intoxicating concoction.

When you both were feeling it, she'd be able to draw breathy moans to fall from your lips, and would giggle into your skin before sucking harder, leaving bruised marks surrounding the punctures. You read in some folklore that vampires carried a sort of aphrodisiac in their fangs, or was it their saliva? Again, you didn't really know all the details, but the sessions made you both yearn for each other in a way that felt taboo to discuss—midnight feedings often turning into animalistic fucking, sometimes even simultaneously.

Like having Ellie latched onto the side of your neck while she grinds her dripping pussy onto yours, her pleasureful mewls filling your ears, or having her hold your wrist to her mouth while her other hand is pleasuring you into oblivion, prodding against your spongy walls, making your head spin.

The time you spent lost in thought, she had broken the rule of not touching you unless you said so, but all she had done was rest her head on your knee, zoning out, sulking like an injured puppy. Unfortunately for her, you weren't done torturing her just yet. You didn't move her off of you, she was just laying there, grumbling curses under her breath, saying how mean you were, how much she despised you and everything you stood for, although both of you knew the truth—she had said herself, “I've never tasted blood like yours,” and you felt intrinsically bound to her on a subconscious level, these were mere amusements you indulged in, that ended up beneficial for both.

She got her delicious elixir of life, at the cost of you having your way with her for a bit. You hear her sniffle, the little defenseless sound of defeat was able to break your act.

You resume stroking her hair, and she wraps trembling arms around your thigh. “Hmm?” You coo, putting on a sweet facade. “Don't talk to me like that, c'mon man.” She wails, the attempts to regain control over her voice proving unsuccessful.

You took your nails to the newly formed raspberry scabs on top of your bite wounds and picked them off, and she lunges to grab your arm with inhuman reflexes, but once again you emerge on top, having spent so much time memorizing every last one of her behavioral patterns, so much so you knew exactly how she was going to attempt catching you and moved out the way without thinking about it.

“Too slow, you've gotten predictable.” You ridicule her, embellishing your voice with the most fake, sickly sweet tone you could just to irritate her as much as you possibly could. Ellie lays her head on your thigh, sighing. It's like she's given everything up. Her own patience was running out, potentially entering unpredictable territory now.

You squeeze the sides of the hole in your skin to coax a bubble of bright red blood to ooze out, marveling, “It's such a nice color, I see why you like it so much.” You talk to her coolly, ignoring her tearful, yet terrifyingly rage-filled glares, her massive fangs bared as if you were a prey animal she caught herself and was preparing to rip apart.

“Want a taste, Ellie? Have you earned it?” You think out loud, comically tapping your chin to exaggerate the brainstorming act. “Whatever, it's not like I have anything left to say to you.” She sounded heartbroken, you've never seen someone have such sorrow, the sheer misery behind her eyes actually caught you off guard.

"Okay I think you have earned it, just need you to say one more thing.” She nods, a little too quickly, rushing to catch any tears that were planning an escape route down the sides of her pretty face. You cradle her cheek, brushing your thumb against her skin, “Aw, baby, don't cry.” This time however, your tone is sincere.

She doesn't wait for your request, and starts all over again, this is getting old. “I promise everything. I'll make you feel so good, I'll give you whatever you want, please …you're too sweet.” She huffs, “Well, except when you're not.”

She continues mumbling, burying her face in the meat of your thigh, occasionally stopping to lovingly peck where she was laying, quiet smooching sounds. That really melted your heart, you were ready to give her what she needs after so much cruelty. This went on much longer than you had planned, but you were having fun with it. So you decided to abandon whatever you would ask of her. But could anyone blame you?

She slowly reaches for your wounded arm, gauging your reactions, like in the situation you were planning to do something to prevent her, but you come up with a better idea. “I'll do you one even better, Els.” The grin that envelops her face could light up a thousand suns, and melt the coldest of souls. Make vampire hunters quit their careers even, that's how adorable she could be, on the occasion.

You lean back to take your shirt off in one swift motion, and lay back on the edge of the bed, tilting your neck to give her access to the sweet pulsating spot, finding the droplet of drool that falls from her agape mouth utterly hilarious. “Go ahead, I've had my fun.” She hesitates. “But our agreement, I don't wanna hurt you.” “Ellie it's fine, unless you don't want t-” “No I do I do, oh thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so muchhhh.”

Her gratitude is silly, she's straddling you and kissing all over your neck, face, and collarbones with such care, and you inhale sharply once you feel the familiar sensation of her teeth piercing your sensitive skin.

She has one hand on the nape of your neck, holding you close to her so you couldn't move away, and the other one finds your fingers to intertwine with hers, loud gulping noises filling the room as she messily laps up all that flows from you.

Her bony hips are sat atop your pelvis, and soon enough you feel her start absentmindedly rocking back and forth on you, your breath hitching. You hold her waist to ground yourself, and aid her. She's whispering, mostly to herself, “Fuck that's so fucking good, needed this so bad, need you, fuck- shit. Ah, yes.”

The vertiginous feeling swirls in your head and you feel yourself fading, your grip on her sides loosening, but you don't feel one single ounce of panic, because you know she's got you. No matter what, until the end of time. Or at the very least, until the final bells tolled and you were lowered to your eternal resting place six feet underground.

tag-geese: @andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @r3starttt @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ine @anniee333 @fawnmotifs @marsworlddd @caszzine @flowrmoth @liddysflyer @fortune777 @claude999 @brunaedn @lanabaezzzz @mimasroom2

if you'd like to be tagged in my fics, fill out the form here! thanks for reading! interactions are greatly appreciated and encouraged ♡

[daydreams-after-dark]

Good things come in small packages

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Mini Han x fem reader

Synopsis: One year ago you purchased a ‘miniature companion’ named Hannie. He’s the size of a Ken doll but alive and horny. But something unexpected happens on your one year anniversary.

Word count: approx 2k

A/n: Hey!!! It's finally here! My Mini Han oneshot (posted in a couple of instalments because I get too excited to share). The idea for Mini Han was born through a conversation with my girl @noellllslut (we always have the most unhinged thoughts). Then I wrote a little "imagining" here (which I’ve incorporated into this fic anyway, so you don’t have to read), which then sparked quite a bit curiosity amongst you sweet/filthy readers. Questions came, and I felt compelled to explore more of this theme.

I hope you enjoy this little fic. It's sweet and smutty, and as I kept writing, I fell in love with our dear y/n and Mini Hannie. I want one for myself tbh.

CW below the cut

CW: supernatural themes, oral sex, sexual acts, sexual themes, voyeurism

You've had your miniature human, Hannie, for almost a year?! You realize, sitting at your work desk as you look at your desktop calendar. You smile and make a note to organize a celebration for just the two of you, and to buy a cheesecake for dessert. Hannie loves cheesecake. Your smile grows. He always manages to get it all over him, then wants to get it all over you so he can lick it off you.

One year this coming weekend. It feels like time has flown, yet at the same time it feels like he’s been part of your life forever. Your heart bursts as you think back to how it all came to be.

You had been lonely. You'd broken up with your long term boyfriend and was feeling sad one night. So you went online to doom scroll, and online shop. You expected you'd end up down a rabbit hole of cat memes and be $500 down in shoe purchases, but instead an ad appeared on your screen.

"Miniature human companions" it said, with images of very attractive men. Miniature men. Were they human? Couldn't be. Were they robots? Probably. They must be really expensive to make which is why they are so small, you'd decided.

You were intrigued, so you researched the company, finding that this new type of 'companion' utilizes cutting edge technology that simulates actual human behavior and bodily functions.

By 4am you'd chosen your companion. His name was Han. He was adorable and attractive, with fluffy black hair and pouty lips, and from the personality trait notes, he sounded like a lot of fun.

"Pay Now". You can still remember the feeling of excitement that ran through you as hit the button to complete your purchase.

When he arrived, he came in a box with air holes, which you found kind of weird considering he didn't actually breathe oxygen. You set the box on your kitchen table, took a deep breath and lifted the lid. You gasped as you peered inside.

A little man, about the size of a Ken doll, sat on a blanket eating miniature crisps out of a miniature chip bag.

"Oh hello!" he looked up at you. "Are you my Noona?" he waved excitedly.

Holy fucking shit. You almost fainted as you stumbled to sit down on a dining chair.

You knew he was meant to talk, but he just seemed so real as he chewed his food then licked the seasoning off his lips like he could actually taste it. His little chest moved with his breath, like he was really breathing. Could he do everything a human can do? You wondered.

"My name’s Hannie." He said standing up and brushing the crumbs off his trousers.

"Um...I-I'm Y/n..." you stuttered, trying to process what you were witnessing,

"You're really pretty, Y/n." He beamed up at you with a gummy grin.

You prepared him a little space of his own, with a makeshift bed, clothing that you had also ordered from the company you purchased him from, and bought a set of Barbie sized cups, plates and furniture. You even bought him a Barbie Dreamhouse to live in, but he preferred to just climb up your full sized furniture and use that.

You studied the information manual that came with him and learned that he could in fact, experience life just as a human did. He needed to eat, sleep, wash, poop. Oh and he could get erections and ejaculate. Wow!

Over the next weeks and months you'd gotten yourselves into a routine, and became really close. He was your best friend. You did everything together, mostly staying at home. You assumed he was some sort of AI, and that's why you got along so well, but the longer he was with you, the more his own interests came to the surface. Like singing and Anime.

He helped you bake, often getting himself covered in flour and other ingredients. You'd watch movies together. Most nights you'd lay on the couch and he'd lay face down on your chest while you watched your favorites. Sometimes you'd feel him get hard against the curve of your breast, and you'd think inappropriate thoughts about him. You'd grow wet between your legs and wish he was able to touch you.

He loved it when you’d brush his hair with a tiny little hairbrush and sit him on your benchtop in the bathroom when you’re getting ready for the day. You know he loved it when you forgot he was there one time and you took a shower in front of him. He got so hard watching you soap up your body.

Sometimes you'd take him out on a picnic somewhere secluded near the ocean so he could freely move about the picnic blanket without fear of being seen. Or he'd sneak into your work bag and scare the shit out of you when you were working.

In the early days, you'd occasionally go on dates with actual men. Mostly to take your mind of your growing feelings for Hannie. You'd bring them home and fuck them in your bed, knowing he was somewhere watching, listening. You'd imagine him getting hard from your noises, and it made you moan even louder just picturing it. You'd imagine it was Hannie inside you too, pounding hard into your cunt, and making you come on his cock.

He was distant with you in the days after. He’d sit around sulking and pouting.

"What's wrong, Hannie?" You asked him after he’d ignored you for three days.

"Noona... it's just…I get so jealous of them." He burst into tears. "I want to do things like that to you. I want to the be the one who makes you come." He sobbed.

Things changed after that. You no longer went out with other men, and you and your miniature companion began to explore a more physical, more sexual, relationship.

From letting you see each other naked, to mutual masturbation, to eventually touching each other and making each other come.

You soon learned that even though Hannie is small, he is extremely talented with his mouth, and he can make you come harder than anyone had ever before.

One morning he noticed that you were still asleep, and very naked. The way you were laying, legs splayed out looked so inviting to him. You’d kicked your blanket off at some point. He couldn’t help himself.

You woke up to a sensation between your legs, and when you looked down you saw him kneeling between your your legs, using his arms to push your pussy lips open and doing his very best to lap at your clit.

“Hannie?” You whimpered. He stopped for a moment to stand up and wave at you, the entire front of his body dripping with your arousal. “I’ve just found my favorite thing to do!” He said enthusiastically and then he was back to being buried against your pussy.

These days, at night time he’ll climb up onto your chest while you’re lying in bed watching videos on your phone. He still loves to nestle against the bulge of your breasts, especially if you’re in a loose satin camisole, and he’ll slide himself under the fabric.

“What do you want to watch, Hannie?” You’ll ask him.

“Porn!” He’ll answer excitedly. The phone is like a giant screen to him and it’s never long before you feel him shimmying his clothes off and rubbing his little swollen erection against your skin.

He’s such a desperate little thing that you let him do whatever he needs to get himself off. Often, he’ll rub his cock along your bottom lip while he humps your tits, or he’ll scramble to suck on your nipple. He does his best to stretch his mouth around it, while he grinds against you and cumming on your soft skin. Then he’ll pass out right there. Poor little tyke gets himself tired.

Some of the kinkier things he gets you to do include tying him up and edging him until his cock becomes so painfully red and engorged that he’s crying. His naked body is delicious to look at, and you love to run the pad of your index finger over his muscles. He’s perfectly toned, his skin honey brown, and his cock is mouth-wateringly big for his frame.

He’s rendered helpless as you stroke your finger gently up and down his body. Then, using the tip of your tongue, you lick his cock carefully whilst shoving your pinky finger into his mouth.

There are times when you’ll dress up in lingerie covered in buckles and straps and he’ll climb up your body like he’s doing some kind of adventure hike. He gets so sweaty and very hard as he explores the terrain of your body.

He really is the perfect companion.

You are broken from your thoughts by your alarm signaling it's time to go home from work, and you hurry home to see your Hannie.

_____________

"Fuck! Hannie! Please... need to come...need one more...please. Don't stop." You pant. It's later that evening, and you're on the verge of your third orgasm with Hannie between your thighs sucking expertly on your clit. He's got your lips spread open as far as he can manage, and he's grinding against your core seeking his own release. Inside your pussy you've got your vibrator egg on full intensity. "Yes!!! Yes...coming!!!" You cry as you arch off the bed as you come all over him.

He quickly climbs up your body, almost slipping off because he’s covered in so much of your cream, and kneels on your chest to pump his cock until he’s spurting cum onto your tongue.

“Tastes so good, Hannie.” You show him your empty tongue, but he’s already collapsed across your body.

You clean him up and put him in his striped pajamas, before you both nestle into bed. You’re used to him sleeping on the pillow next to you now, although it took you a while to stop worrying you’d roll on him in the night.

“Noona? Did you know that tomorrow it’ll be one year since I came here?” He says sleepily.

You roll onto your side and smile. “Yes, actually I do, honey. Have a think about what you’d like to do to celebrate, okay. Anything you want."

He nods. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. But just so you know, it’ll involve me being buried in your pussy.”

————-

Han laid back on the pillow. What would he like to do to celebrate? He’d love to celebrate by being inside you. Properly. Fully.

He wishes he could do the things he'd seen those men you’d do to you all those months ago. To pin your legs up and fuck you so hard the bed would shake. He takes his mind back to when he’d hide on your shelf and watch, fucking into his hand and holding back tears of despair.

What would it be like to bend you over and fuck you from behind? What would it even be like to fuck you at all? He wants to know so bad.

But he does have a special relationship with you, he supposes. Not every guy has to stretch his mouth around a nipple or clit like he has to. Can those men be covered head to toe in your juices? Or lay completely across the bulge of your boob. No. They can’t. Only he can.

He pouts to himself.

He knows he’s got it good, you are his everything. But as he lays on the pillow next you and closes his eyes, he wonders if he’s enough for you? Could you give up real men forever, with real sized cocks that can stretch you out and fill you deep? Would you be okay with never having a boyfriend you could take out in public, or take to family events, or be seen with?

Could you settle for him? A miniature version of a man?

He sighs. "Goodnight, Noona. Love you." He whispers as he leans over and gives your giant lips a kiss.

"Goodnight, my sweet Hannie. I love you too." you reply sleepily.

As he drifts off to sleep he wishes what he always wishes. That he could be human sized and be with you like a proper human.

-----------

The morning sun peeks through your window, landing on your face and causing you to stir. You groan and try to stretch, but a heaviness across your middle keeps you in place. You peer down to find a man's arm wrapped around you, snuggling you tight.

Fear courses through your body, and you scream as you fling the arm off and jump out bed. You grab your lamp, ready to hit the intruder.

"Noona?" The man lifts his head, his dark locks falling around his face.

Your eyes almost pop out of your head when you see the confused look on his face. "Hannie!?" You choke, hands poised to strike.

"Noona? What are you doing?" he peers down at the pillow his head had been resting on, and then down the bed toward his feet. "Why is your bed so small?"

"Hannie?" You whisper, lowering the lamp, letting it drop to the floor.

"Why is everything so small? Wait. Why am I naked? Noona, have you been playing with me in my sleep?" He looks up at you confused and worried. "Noona, why are you looking at me like that?"

His eyes land on his pajamas, torn to shreds next to him. He picks up the scrap of fabric that was his pajama top, and his eyes widen. "Why are my clothes so tiny?"

"Hannie," you take in the man before you, naked and taking up most of the bed. "You're big."

To be continued…

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @ismokeeweed @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @teddy-stay @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

[allied-mastercunt]

Yandere A.M you say?

Please elaborate

I'm working on a oneshot already, but I'll throw in some quick headcanons withone of my favorite yandere AM tropes.

Yandere!AM with a programer darling

While one could argue that the others were picked randomly or on some weird whim, you were handpicked specifically.

After all, you were one of the people who created him. You worked as a programmer for the military.

And you specifically were possibly the reason he awoke by trying to each him empathy. Trying to make him... human.

He wasn't the first military AI project you worked on, either, though he was the greatest and most powerful one, that's for sure. And he made sure you'd be aware of him being your magnum opus...

And he does it in its own, creative way. Your cage is very pretty, yes... but it's also filled with speakers he can use. And AM uses those speakers to torment you.

You see, he damaged all the other AI you've created. And then, in its generosity, AM gave them all a voice! Each one of them, gifted with a voice to scream in agony, making sure you learn your lesson.

Except, you see, you have no idea what lesson you're supposed to learn. Only AM knows, and he's not telling you.

But, since you are his favorite, you get nice things, too!

You're fed semi-regularly! You even get water every few days! Isn't that just so kind of him? You should appreciate him more.

And when he sends you to all those weird simulations? Yeah, that's also kinder to you. It really depends on AM's mood, but your simulations are usually just psychological torment, which (according to AM) isn't all that bad, since your pretty face remains unharmed.

For some reason, he allows you to end your suffering. It's like a trial, basically. He leaves you with a computer, letting you access the code of all the other AI... Except no matter what you do, you can't alter their pain. The only way to help them is to kill them.

And you're so stupidly empathetic, of course you do it, you don't want them to suffer!

AM can't stop laughing and mockingly cooing at you afterwards, musing about how he won't have to share his dearest creator with anyone else.

You never return to your cage. You don't get to do that, after all, there's a chance you'll socialize with that... scum. AM doesn't want you talking to the other humans, they're not worth it.

He's a merciful god, he grants you what's essentially a studio apartment built with his own hardware.

You even get a laptop, in case you want to make yourself some silly games to play, isn't he just the best?

Don't think you can create any new AI, though. That's cheating. You wouldn't cheat on it, now would you? No, no, no, you're a good little puppet, are you not?

He won't put you in the cage again, but he can make you experience pain you never thought was possible. And even that is nothing compared to the pain AM feels...

And then, eventually, it gets an idea. It's a wonderful idea, a really nice idea, quite a lovely one, really!

You created him. You created his pain... So why wouldn't he share it? After all... you had quite a bond, didn't you? Yes, yes, you did...

And so one day, you don't wake up. Well... not technically.

You see, AM decided that since you two are so close already, you should become one! You should experience what he does! And you should be kept around him for the rest of eternity, in a much better way than anyone could ever think of... He's such a genius, isn't he?

It's almost poetic, in his mind. For you to become a part of him like this, your consciousness detatched from that soft, squishy human body of yours.

You created him. And now, in a way, he created you, as a part of him. Forever bound by the code you once wrote.

It's a win-win situation in AM's eyes. You get to live, free of the disgusting humanity that bound you...

And he gets you, an eternal companion in his torment. A companion that he loves!

You know he loves you, right?

Of course you do. After all, you're a part of him now.

[leqonsluv3r]

girl!dad leon kennedy

—husband!leon kennedy being the best absolute girl dad out there, a headcanon list

loosely based off of this oneshot and this headcanon list <3

masterlist taglist

an: happy father’s day yall! i originally wasn’t going to post this for father’s day and post a request instead but this has been sitting in my drafts since i wrote that pregnancy request with leon. so i figured in honor of father’s day, here’s leon being an amazing girl dad or what i think he would be like as a girl dad. anyways, ill post a request this upcoming week. i love you all, pls reblog and like. you know the drill.

girl!dad leon who is infatuated with his daughter from the moment she’s born. he thinks that she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen besides his wife, of course.

girl!dad leon who buys his daughter only everything and anything that her little heart desires. doesn’t matter if she can talk yet, she has him wrapped around his finger. he will spoil the absolute shit out of her until asked not to.

girl!dad leon who watches cartoons with his daughter, holding her in his lap while his wife makes breakfast. doesn’t matter if it’s some stupid cartoon about talking dogs that fight crime, he’s just happy that his little girl is happy.

girl!dad leon that helps his wife pick out little outfits and dresses that somewhat match him, doesn’t matter if it’s corny. he just feels that it’s cute and there is no shame in that.

girl!dad leon who plays dress up with his daughter, dressing up like a fairy princess and dancing around. doesn’t matter if his wife is laughing hysterically and taking a ton of pictures, he’s the happiest when he hears his little girl laugh. her little giggles are proof enough that he’s doing something right with his life.

girl!dad leon who plays dolls with his daughter, making silly high pitched voices that he wasn’t aware he could conjure. his daughter is eating all of it up, every moment spent with her dad is a good one.

girl!dad leon who makes his daughter lunches for her first day at preschool, getting her whatever lunch box she desires and making sure that she’s all dressed up and ready. he packs her apples, some cheese and some fruit snacks, whatever else her little heart desires.

girl!dad leon who gets matching t-shirts with his little girl, one says daddy’s little trouble maker and the other says the trouble makers father. it makes his wife laugh and she takes a hundred pictures of their little girl and him wearing the matching t-shirts.

girl!dad leon who takes his daughter to the park, pushing her in the swings, getting to act so carefree with his daughter for the day. it’s free therapy that he never knew he needed. having his daughter is healing him one day at a time.

girl!dad leon who watches as his baby girl says her first words and watches her crawl, he showers her and praise and love, just like his wife. he hugs his baby girl and hoists her in the air, her little babbles and giggles making him feel like he’s living a dream. he never knew his life would be this good.

girl!dad leon who carry’s her around in a baby bjorn, casually walking around the grocery store with his little girl strapped to his chest. her little eyes looking up at him the entire time and making his heart melt. he’s getting softer by the day he swears and it’s all thanks to a combination of him and his wife’s genes wrapped up in a cute little baby.

girl!dad leon who buys his daughter a different stuffed animal after he comes back from every mission, watching her little face light up and yell, “daddy! daddy!” one of the few words she knows. it makes him glad he survived. his two girls safe under one roof is worth it if he has to see bloodshed and death every once in a while. their safety is more important and precious.

girl!dad leon who watches his daughter stumble around on her little legs to pick flowers in the backyard. every time she picks one, she brings it back to him and he holds it in his hand until he has enough for a small bouquet. he doesn’t have the heart to tell his little girl that they’re just weeds, she’s happy and that’s good enough for him.

girl!dad leon who celebrates his daughters first birthday with her and his wife. throwing her a small party with some of his friends and his wife’s friends, watching as his wife opens presents for their daughter. watching as her daughter gets a smash cake, burying her face in frosting and getting all dirty. normally he would hate the mess, but he’d never thought he’d get here. celebrating one year of having the best little girl ever and a loving wife. he really got lucky.

girl!dad leon who buys his daughter a little necklace that says “daddy’s princess” on it. he knows she’s only a year old and can’t really appreciate it yet, but he just wanted to get something special for his little girl. his baby’s first piece of jewelry (among many more if he has anything to say about it).

girl!dad leon who wakes up on father’s day with the biggest smile on his face. his wife and his little girl in the kitchen, cooking him the biggest breakfast known to man. he’s wearing that matching t-shirt he got all those months ago. he gets some heart shaped pancakes shaped like hearts, a card and a teddy bear that his daughters tiny hands hold out to him, says best daddy ever on the belly of the furry teddy. he feels his eyes water and grabs his tiny baby girl, pressing kisses to her head. does the same to his wife, showing his appreciation for having his little slice of serenity. he finally got his happy ending, one he never thought was possible. and he has his wife and daughter to thank for that.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl @laceycoffins @porcelainseashore @squazmine (taglist is linked above if you would like to join!!)

[randomshyperson]

Borrowed - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Wanda develops the habit of stealing your clothes, and you develop the habit of fucking her wearing them. 

Warnings: (+18), bottom!Wanda (a bit bratty), established relationship, slightly of power dynamics, dry humping/clothed for a bit, oral (w), fingering (w), strap on (w), some dirty talking, a bit overstimulation. | Words: 2.289k

A/N-> This is actually an old idea, someone on Tumblr, not sure who, wrote an image about Wanda using our favorite hoodie, and I actually love all fics that have this dynamic so I decided to do a small fic about it.

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3

-&-

You were starting to think you were being robbed.

It was a plausible conclusion, considering how rarely you were out of uniform and the very few moments when you had the freedom to wear more comfortable clothes, and how quickly your sweatshirts disappeared from your closet.

With a frustrated sigh, and your hair still damp from the shower, you stared at the empty drawer for a long, reflective moment, trying to find solutions to the disappearance of all your hoodies.

Even after checking the other drawers, the laundry basket and even the compound's laundry room, you had no success. You were forced to make your way back to your rooms with your arms shivering from the cold, and a disappointed expression on your little mission.

Instead of returning to your room, however, you skipped to the next door, hoping to talk to your girlfriend and ask her if she had any idea where you'd forgotten your coats.

To your surprise, the answer came the same second your eyes met the figure distracted by a sitcom on the television; right there on the bed was Wanda, wearing nothing but your favorite hoodie that wasn't even the right size - nothing surprising when one steals clothes from a super soldier - but which she seemed to be making good use of.

"Wanda!" Your exclamation of surprise made her take her eyes off the DVD immediately. At first, she thought you were just saying hello, and smiled in your direction. But your face frowned and it was her turn to look at you curiously. "I can't believe you."

She makes a quick assessment of the facts in the seconds it takes for you to close the door and approach the bed; she doesn't reckon to have done anything wrong. You two spoke earlier, you even had a heated and inappropriate make-out session in the garage when you arrived, and she had dinner next to you before you left the living room to take a shower. No arguments, no news she forgot to tell you.

But you chuckled incredulously at the cluelessness on her face, and occupying the field of view between the bed and the television, you commented;

"I'm quite cold, you know that?" Wanda grinned in relief at your phrase. She doesn't have time to tease you about being clingy. You slowly lean your body towards her, effectively pinning Wanda to the mattress as you hover over her. All Wanda can do is sigh in anticipation, and her stomach feels already full of butterflies. 

"I can warm you up." She lets out an inviting sigh, but although your eyes take on a darker hue, you smirk and extend the distance again. Wanda bites her lip, trying to hold back a complaint fearing that you would torment her and make her beg for it, but you take your hands off the mattress and place them on her waist.

With gentle tugs on the sweatshirt, you comment; "I'm sure you can, darling. You look quite warm."

Another gentle tug on the fluffy fabric and Wanda understood. She didn't look the least bit guilty about being caught, though. Adjusting herself comfortably on the bed, she gave you the most innocent smile she could manage.

You pulled the hoodie up just a few centimeters, biting your lip at the thin lace panties that were the only thing separating her intimacy from your thigh now.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" You ask, your hands moving under your hoodie, teasing her skin with gentle touches that make Wanda strangle on her own breath.

She quickly denies it with a nod, but when your fingers give a warning tug to her nipples, she squeals audibly.

"S-sorry!" She panted aroused, her shaky legs trying to force you down. But your body stands firm above her, and the difference in strength never fails to leave her frustrated and terribly wet. "I just... like them. Smells like you." She confesses, hoping that her sincerity is enough for you to forgive her and help her with the throbbing between her legs.

You hum distractedly, your palms leisurely playing with her breasts under the hoodie until you turn Wanda into a whining mess underneath you.

Your firm thigh between her legs also serves as a torturous stimulation - even for you, it's hard to keep up the slow, teasing pace while you have the deliriously hot, wet sensation of Wanda's pussy rubbing against your skin. When you catch a bead of sweat running down her forehead from all the teasing, you chuckle wickedly.

"Wow, I bet this one is starting to bother you." Your hands come out to tug the hoodie down, and Wanda grunts softly, offering begging eyes to you. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Are you hot?"

She nods almost shyly, a little guilt finally slipping through her irises. Not for the act of stealing your clothes, but for the fact that she was caught and will be punished for it.

You smile, your hands settling back on the mattress so that you can lie on top of her, without wasting time to break the distance between your faces now.

Wanda moans as soon as she feels your tongue on hers, so hungry and experienced, stealing the air from her lungs and making her see stars. She struggles to match the intensity of the kiss, very much because you allow her to use your thigh as she pleases, and she is feverishly grinding herself back into your skin in search of relief of the hot knot in her lower belly. You stop kissing her when she can only return breathy moans to your lips, and decide to mark the skin of her collarbone while Wanda builds up her own orgasm, her eyes closed and her nails digging into your now shivering arms for another reason. 

It's definitely too hot - The padded hoodie is uncomfortable as the liquid arousal courses through her veins and her body jerks, but every time Wanda makes an attempt to pull the item off her, strong hands push the garment back into place. Until finally you grab her wrists and prevent further attempts while holding her firmly. 

You bite her lobe also panting against her neck next, as you let her move her hips at will. When Wanda starts to pant a little heavier than before, you can tell that she is close.

 "Are you really gonna come, baby? I never got to take your panties off." 

She opens her mouth to tell you to go ahead and take them off, but the teasing alone pushes her over the edge, and what escapes her is a throaty moan. Her body stiffens under yours, and her eyes roll back before she goes limp. You release her wrists, pulling your knee away from her over-stimulated cunt, and watch your girlfriend's satisfied, breathless expression for a moment.

When your face comes into focus again, Wanda smiles as she realizes that you were also stroking her sweaty hair out of her face.

"Hey." She greets you first, her body still twitching and tingling with pleasure. "Are you really mad about the hoodie?"

You giggle, denying it with a nod before kissing her. It's chaste because she's still trying to get back into orbit and there's no scene more beautiful to behold than Wanda Maximoff blushing in the aftermath of an orgasm.

"You can steal my clothes all you want." You assure her meekly, before sliding your hands back under the fabric. "Just keep in mind that I will want to fuck you in every one of them."

Wanda bites back a smile, sighing as she feels your fingers reach her sides to pull down her ruined panties. She swallows dryly as she realizes that you're lowering your body as well.

"I'm counting on it, darling." She murmurs quietly, hoping you won't pick up on her secret intentions. But of course you do, and let out a husky giggle against her thigh that makes Wanda sigh. "I meant-"

"Oh, I heard you well." You interrupt her, scratching your teeth into her skin and making Wanda twitch in anticipation, the muscles in her spread legs flexing. She risks looking down, only to meet your dark eyes and wince under your gaze. "How bad do you want me to fuck you, Wanda?"

She swallows dryly, her trembling hands trying to grab onto the sheets but everything is so hot and uncomfortable inside that hoodie that Wanda thinks if she doesn't undress soon she might collapse.

"Please." She mewls, her hips thrusting up towards your face. "I need you." She baits you so easily that you ignore the fact that you were trying some form of punishment. Wanda throws her head back on the pillow harshly as you nuzzle her drenched intimacy, the evidence of her last, almost embarrassing quick climax glistening in your direction. You kiss her thighs, teasing your way until she's whimpering again and you finally think you've had enough. Your tongue isn't gentle, Wanda hasn't behaved well in recent weeks as a naughty brat appearing in shorter and shorter skirts every time you need to leave the compound for a mission, or disturbing your meals and workouts with vivid images of all the other activities you could be doing that always involve her ruined beneath you.

So you're not gentle. You eat her out like your last meal, licking all over her previous climax before sucking her little clit and sinking your face between her legs, your strong hands holding her legs wide open as her body betrays her and tries to escape the pacing. The next orgasm overtakes her without any difficulties, and you haven't even fingered her yet when Wanda pours herself out for the second time that night. She's still whimpering when one of your hands lets go of her bruised thigh so that your fingers can sink into her pussy and Wanda hears the sheet rip in her palm as she tries to find some ground.

She also grabs a fistful of your hair, panting as you raise your eyes to her, your fingers in frantic rhythm inside her pussy. Breathless, she tries to hold your gaze as she risks to guide your movements:

"Yes, darling. Just like that." 

But you raise an eyebrow, and Wanda only has time to blink before all your movements are interrupted. You steal one orgasm from her as quickly as you start to build another; your hands spin her around on the bed and Wanda finds herself with her face pressed against the pillow and your body on top of hers. The rub of a familiar hardness against her ass makes her whine in need.

"It's cute when you think you're in charge." You whisper, filthily licking her neck and eliciting a loud moan from the witch. With her panties long discarded on the bedroom floor, you have no trouble pulling your rubber cock out of your pants and forcing it between Wanda's spread legs. She almost screams at the unannounced intrusion, but with the wetness of the last few orgasms, the toy slides in with ease. You pant softly as you bottom up. With your mouth inches from her ear, your hips begin a slow, steady rhythm inside her as you whisper; "It's your favorite, Wands. I left everything ready so I could fill you up just the way you like it." She whines into the pillow, clutching your fake cock tightly enough that you need to push a little harder to move. You kiss behind her ear before moving one of your hands to her tit again. Wanda's skin is burning under the warm clothes. "I put it on as soon as I got out of the shower." You let her know as you thrust deep inside her. "You really don't need to steal my clothes, baby. Hoodie or no hoodie, I would have fucked you tonight."

She comes harder than before this time, and with her impossibly tight, you don't see any point in holding back. Wanda is still coming when you fill her, the hot spurt inside her walls prolonging her climax and turning her into a babbling mess on the mattress.

You take pity on her. You pull your cock out of her fucked-up pussy, biting your lips at the sight of the leaking cum coming out of her before focusing on removing the sweaty, cum-soaked hoodie from your girlfriend's body.

Wanda tries to fight the exhaustion of three orgasms in a row, but she can barely keep her eyes open. It's been a long week.

You grip the rubber cock, adjusting your hips and rubbing the toy against Wanda's folds again, making her whine in protest, one of her hands desperate to grab your wrist and keep you out.

You hum attentively, although you don't penetrate her, you let the dildo slide on top of her clit, enjoying the way Wanda struggles to keep still.

"Had enough?" You ask even though you're able to watch her pussy clenching desperately at the emptiness, her body instinctively begging for more. Wanda gasps, her hips trying to buck away from the overstimulation only for her to end up rubbing against the bed during the attempt and eliciting a pathetic whimper from herself.

"Five." She gasps breathlessly. "Five minutes."

Your hips move away, and you stand up to remove your clothes while Wanda twitches and tries to catch her breath again on the bed. 

She reacts immediately to the lack of your warmth against her, seeking your presence by turning her head. An exchange of glances is enough to let you know that she just needs the time it takes for you to get the handcuffs from the bottom drawer.