#my hair however is so sad and Large | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

buckyalpine · 1 year ago

Text

Imagine shy beefy Bucky being the little spoon. He feels like he should be the one cuddling you since he’s so much bigger but he loves when you hold him instead.

However.

There’s this one thing you do that always makes him blush and flustered and he just doesn’t understand it.

You love rubbing his tummy.

You hold him from behind, peeking over his shoulder because you love how peaceful he looks when he sleeps. You know he's not actually asleep because his abs are still tensed, worried over how you'd feel with the beefiness that covers his muscular body.

He’s self conscious when your hand slips under his shirt, rubbing his soft but firm tummy up and down; his skin is so warm and you love how plush he is. He’s still getting used to the fact that he isn’t as trim as before. Not that he’s unfit. Quite the opposite. He’s a thick hunk of muscle mass. You can feel the iron like hardness that runs under his skin whenever you're pressed against him. He's so large and perfect to snuggle up with; your grabby little hands love finding their way to his stomach.

"Doll-" He whispers with pink dusted cheeks, holding your wrist away when you sneak over his waist, stroking your skin, "Doll, I- I'm not-" He struggles to get the words out, embarrassed he's not lean like Steve, "Baby, I-

“Shhh, I love you like this” you coo, kissing his shoulder. He shrugs, still not believing you. You tell him how much you adore him every time but he can't help but think back to the time where he was pure muscle without any pudge.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to pretend, I wish I was-"

You shake your head, pressing your lips to his to stop his spiral.

"But you're my big boy" You pout, shuffling over till your straddling him, forcing him to lay back. You huff, pulling his shirt up exposing him, shimmying your hips down so you can curl up on top of his bare torso like a little kitten. You let out a content sigh, pressing your face into his stomach, peppering kisses all over before peering up at him.

"I love your body so much baby" You say sincerely, kissing just below his belly button again for emphasis. "You're so warm and soft and strong, my perfect bear"

Bucky can't help but melt over the way you melt into him, your smaller form using him as a pillow to your hearts content. If you liked him like this, always kneading away at him or trying to burrow yourself into him, who was he to say no?

Cause imagine how fucking hot he'd be when he finally embraces how good he looks with a lil beef. Imagine he stops trying to cover up with large hoodies and henley's. He works out shirtless more.

You're not the only one who drools over him anymore.

All the other trainees can't help but swoon whenever they see him at the punching back or pumping with weights. You have to claw them off him from trying to climb up his legs, desperate to have Sargent Barnes carry them with one arm with ease.

Even the other Avengers can't help but cat call at him because he looks fine af.

Sometime he lets his hair out or ties it half up along with his scruffy cheeks and Tony's taken to calling him a man slut for walking around like that.

"Tony, I don't think thats what slut mean-

"I know what it means. You're telling me he's flaunting all that around and he doesn't know he's hot while doing it? He doesn't know he's getting all this attention?"

Bucky snickers to himself while you coo over your handsome boyfriend, wrapped around him like a koala while the others watch in amusement, your hands skimming all over his body and scratching his beard.

"See? Told you you're perfect like this, big boy"

Imagine he knows you find comfort in him and he no longer feels conscious over it. Whenever your sad and in need of cuddles, he holds you nice and close, usually sans clothing, all skin to skin contact.

He knows you're a little pervert and he'll give into your puppy like eyes, sometimes letting his towel drop after a shower while you grin, shamelessly watching him.

"You're staring again, you little creep" Bucky snorted while applying lotion, dropping his hands when he felt yours paw at his back to take over.

"Just a creep for you, handsome" You quip before continuing your journey exploring his body, moving your hand to his front, deciding to wrap around his co-

Anyway, I love this beefieee babieeee

3K notes · View notes

queenpiranhadon · 2 months ago

Text

"Daddy! Why are you sad?"

Satoru chuckles, ruffling his daughter's hair affectionately, scooping her up in his large hands and situating her on his lap.

"Aw...is my pumpkin concerned for Daddy? Don't worry kiddo, Daddy isn't sad- just..." he paused, thinking of the right word. "tired."

Your daughter pouts, cerulean eyes peering up to gaze into her father's. "You should buy a pony Daddy! That way you won't be sad!"

Satoru laughs in surprise. "A pony, huh? Maybe I will...but I don't think Mommy will let us."

"Mommy won't let you do what?" you say, coming up from behind the couch and lean over the back to see the situation, eyebrow raised in suspicion. "Satoru, what propaganda are you teaching our child?"

"Daddy said you wouldn't let us buy a pony!" your daughter chirps and you stare at him incredulously.

"Absolutely not."

"But Mommy!"

"No!"

"C'mon sweetheart-"

"Stop enabling her!"

If he could, Satoru would have that memory tattooed to the inside of his brain, memorizing the way you laughed, your daughter's giddy face, the fuzzy domestic feeling in his heart, everything. If he could, Satoru would do anything in his power to feel that feeling again.

But he couldn't.

Because yet again, Satoru Gojo experiences one of the feelings he thought he left behind, all those years ago.

Grief.

It was during the war, when Satoru comes home late from a battle, only to find you lying on the cold tiled floor, in a pool of your own blood. In your arms, your 6 year old daughter, unconscious with a serious head injury.

A curse had come into your home in the middle on the night, and attacked you while he was gone. And Satoru wasn't there to protect you.

You didn't survive the encounter. You had lost far too much blood for the doctors to nurse you back to health, and your body was damaged beyond repair.

Your daughter was spared however. She was able to be nursed back to health, but her severe head injury gave her severe and permanent amnesia. She had no idea who you or Satoru was.

His own daughter- just…gone.

After that, Satoru just...broke.

He quit his teaching job at Jujutsu High, and left jujutsu society without a trace.

Satoru wasn't a stranger to hiding his true emotions, always masking any negative feelings behind the mask he'd worn for so many years.

But when you died, Satoru had died with you.

The Satoru Gojo of the physical world was nothing more than a hollow body with an empty heart, pain caused it to wither into nothing, as if it was never there.

"Why are you sad Daddy?" He could almost hear her say.

He's tired, he would say, like always.

But never why.

He was tired of watching his daughter grow up from afar, tired of not living a life with you at his side. Tired of waking up in a cold bed, in an empty house, far too big and lonely for him to live in by himself. Tired of being alone at night, consumed by nightmares and the suffocating feeling of grief and depression that overwhelmed him so much it hurt to breathe. Tired of not waking up to your kisses, your love, tired of not waking up to you, falling asleep with you, tired of not being with you.

How could he live without you? You the love of his life, his sweetheart, his everything. How could he live without you by his side, without the life you had made together? How could he watch his daughter grow up without you there to grow old with by his side?

The truth is- he couldn’t.

And Satoru knew that.

Soon, he promised himself. Soon, he'd be able to reunite with you again.

"You told me to buy a pony but all I wanted was you..." - Hidden in the Sand, Tally Hall.

A/N: This got really dark hahah...based on an idea I had last night

464 notes · View notes

just-some-user-hunny · 4 months ago

Text

Platonic yandere Rhaenyra as your mother...

~ The moment she laid eyes upon you, she helplessly fell in love. All the anger and shock towards Daemon took a backseat to her emotions the moment she saw you- her breath stuttering in her throat as her own amethyst eyes settled upon the wailing girl in the mad prince's arms. No woman is keen upon the idea of their other half returning with a child that they've had behind their back, but the sight of a girl- a daughter, for her, settled her decision at once. It's unlikely for her to take out her frustrations out on you, and something about your tearful little face and upset cries for your mother made her want to take you into her arms at once to soothe you. She didn't care at all about you being a bastard, all she could see was a daughter. Hers.

~ Rhaenyra would spoil you. Gifting you dresses and jewellery and books and fine silk threads, and always wearing an adoring twinkle in her eyes whenever she sees you. Rhaenyra herself loves her precious gems and fine luxurious dresses, and now with her own little girl, you bet you're getting spoiled. She'd also love seeing her dear boys get along with you, further fueling her delusions that you're her own child. She'll call her 'my dearest love' and 'sweet girl' , a cautious protective arm always within reaching distance of you if things get heated at the dining table during rowdy family dinners.

~ she's often the one to smoothe your anger and sadness over when it comes to your conflict with Daemon, your father. He is always the one to dish out punishments and restrictions, and in his stead, she'll be the one to lather you with comfort and alternatives. As a child she'd carry you in her arms, wiping away your tearfulness and promising you a ride with Syrax after Daemon forbids you from riding your own dragon for a week. That dynamic fits well with them. Essentially, Daemon is The bad cop, and she is the good cop.

~ as a child, you were very against this woman mothering you when you missed your one mother at home. However you may eventually grow soft to Rhaenyra, even if it's unintentionally done. She's so attentive and gentle towards you, it's hard not to seek out her comfort- even if most of it is dismissive and performative to keep you calm. She'd happily braid your hair if you wish to go riding upon horse or dragon-back, and always with a smile upon her face.

~ Rhaenyra soothing you whenever you fights with her father, Daemon. She is firm, but gentle, the perfect salve to Daemons cruelty and coldness. He has always stood strong and confident, and the powerlessness you'd feel around him would both infuriate you, and make you feel hopeless. Rhaenyra is always there for the aftermath, to distract you from the sadness brewing in your chest. Squeezing your hand beneath the table as you all eat your meals together, your presence always insisted upon by Viserys and Daemon.

~ she'd be a fiercely protective mother. As you grow older, transitioning from her little girl to a young woman, she'd be very against any arranged marriages. If she could, she'd keep you at home forever, single and happy- or free to love whoever you like as long as they are approved by her and Daemon and that you remain at home with them.

Thankfully, due to your bastard heritage, you have no political duty to marry, and are therefore free from being wed for gain. (Sure, you'll never seat the iron throne, but as a woman in those times everything was cut-throat. You may as well have a taste of freedom)

~ Syrax is just as doting. You're her riders little girl, and that maternal feeling would come through both Rhaenary, and syrax. The large golden dragon will chirp and purr in your presence, bowing her head to sniff and gently prod at you- like a doting mother.

"Darling, are you joining us for lunch?"

"For the afternoon".

Rhae smiled warmly, watching you pet Syrax- who gazed upon the princess with passive golden eyes. Crooning gently into your touch, before retreating softly. Rhaenyra approaches soon after- peeling her riding gloves off before taking your face within the cradle of your palms and kissing your brow. 1...2...3, a mantra of soft kisses laid upon your face before she steps back to look at you. Her smile is genuine and warm.

~ As the dance of the dragon approaches, the more protective and demanding she becomes. Suddenly your dragon riding time is limited, especially after Luke's death :( the moment you even suggested leaving upon dragon-back to get some fresh air in the clouds she snaps almost tearfully, composing herself shortly afterwards, and then sending you outside upon the balcony with a guard. A pleading look in her eyes begging you not to disobey her, for her sake, please. She cannot lose you as well.

~ She becomes especially paranoid about team green snatching you away, as both teams are obsessed with keeping you on their sides amidst the approach of war. The amount of kingsguard that stand position outside your chambers every night, hell, even accompanying you around the castle increases. You seldom have a moment to yourself without a lady in waiting heel-to-heel with you, or a towering armoured knight breathing down your neck.

Even with Daemon gone, you're still trapped within the castle.

~ Bastard!princess reader wants nothing to do with this war, and although she may have created a connection to Rhaenyra and Jace and her twin sisters, she may see this as an opportunity to finally leave. Escape would be difficult, near impossible, but not out of the question. You still have your dragon at your call, so you may find a way to slip away and find a way to get to your dragon to escape.

Everyone would go mad however, almost putting a pause on the conflict to go out and find you. Be warned that Daemon and Rhaenyra would immediately go seek your hometown and mother and brothers (that is, if they are still alive), so you'd have to be smart with slipping from their grasps.

~ To the end Rhaenyra will hold onto you dearly like her life-line, committed to being your mother, regardless of your feelings or circumstance. Even as she is burnt, she will not cry or scream- only thinking of everything that she has lost. How she failed you, and everyone she ever held close.

(under the scenario that in the end you did leave and vanish, or worse, got killed in the conflict).

#yandere rhaenyra targaryen #platonic yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #platonic yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #hotd x reader #bastard! princess reader #bastard!princess reader #bastard!reader #bastard! reader

553 notes · View notes

aaagustd · 2 months ago

Text

pairing: producer!cheol x (f)reader // genre: meaningless smut // wc: 0.8k // warnings: f*ngering, c*m eating(finger sucking), kissing, public s*x, unedited; 18+

note: this is probably bad but my allergies are kicking my butt. i still wanted to post though. divider credit.

check out my taglists here.

When a hot producer asks you out, he can sense your nervousness as soon as you get in his expensive car. “What helps you relax?” is what he asks you. Your answer was not one that he expected, but it turned him on like nothing else has. Dinner will just have to wait for now.

“Fuck!” Your entire body trembles with pleasure. The shame of wanting a stranger to ruin you on the hood of his Benz is long gone—so has the fear of being caught while you’re getting fingered in an alley.

Your hands grasp his shirt while your watery eyes stare into his. It’s a silent plea for him to give you more, to bury another one of his long digits into your needy heat.

He chuckles. “No matter how much this little cunt gets, it always wants more, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, god. Yes–It wants more. Please,” you whimper, burying your face in his shirt to muffle your cries. His hand has only been down your panties for about two minutes and you’re already falling apart. “More, please.”

“Well, if you’re that horny…” He grabs your hair and forces you to look at him. “Just sit your pretty ass back and let me see what kind of faces you make when you cum.”

You prop yourself on your arms and observe his work, gasping when a third finger enters your pussy. Your legs are spread wide, and you buck off the vehicle to match his movements, swirling your hips when his palm touches your throbbing clit to add more stimulation. If you weren’t about to reach your high, you’d be begging him to replace his digits with whatever it was that was pressed against your ass a few minutes ago.

“Goddamn it, how are you this wet?”

The lewd noises your leaking pussy produces explain why your panties are a sticky and sodden mess. Your clothes cling to your body due to the sweat forming on your skin, giving you the urge to get rid of the damn things. Of course, you can’t, but it would be nice right about now. “Is this all for me? Couldn’t resist me, could you?”

“I—”

“You wanted me inside of you? That’s understandable, babe. Everyone does,” he claims.

The tension boils to a head when his fingers curl inside of you.

“I can’t hold it anymore,” you warn, reaching out to grip his arm.

His eyes soften as he pities the pathetic mess he’s made of you. He lifts his hand to cup your face before he grabs your throat, squeezing gently. “Then let go, love.”

A switch flips when he winks. The coil snaps and the sky of red-orange and deep purples begins to spin around you. He’s forced to cover your mouth quickly to suppress your screams, but his fingers continue to move at a fast pace, milking you of every ounce of energy you have left.

You almost fall back onto the car when your body finally relaxes, but his strong arms prevent you from doing so. In a state of haziness, you can still make out the sight of him licking his fingers clean of your arousal, moaning loudly as he tastes you.

You’re pulled in for a sloppy kiss and you’re thrilled that the taste of you still lingers on his tongue. Your legs wrap around him, trying to trap him so you can unzip his pants. However, he stops you before you can do so.

“Now right now, love.”

You pout. “But—”

His large hands find your ass and pull you towards the edge so he can keep you close.

“Later,” he says sternly, earning him another sad face.

He laughs at you for a second, resting his chin on top of your head while you lean on his firm chest.

“Seungcheol,” he announces out of nowhere. “That’s my name if you care to use it.”

“Hell yeah, I care,” you assure after introducing yourself. “ I’ve never done that before. Thank you for not judging me. Well, to my face, at least.”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “I’d never. Plus, you’re hot. I wouldn’t want to ruin my chances of getting to know you.”

“Really?” You didn’t mean to sound so excited. Now he probably thinks you’re a groupie.

But he just smiles and pulls away. “You’re cute. Come on, let’s go somewhere and talk.”

He helps you down and guides you to the passenger side of the car. He opens the door for you and waits patiently for your wobbly legs to climb inside.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

“No, I’m okay—”

When he gives you a look, you come clean. “I’m starving.”

“Cool. Let’s grab dinner and go back to my place. Then you can show me which of my cars you want me to fuck you on next.”

He shuts the door without another word, leaving your sticky thick thighs rubbing together.

#seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #scoups x reader #scoups smut #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #s coups x reader #s coups smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagine #scoups fanfic #scoups imagines #seungcheol imagine #aaagustd.fics

707 notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 9 days ago

Text

The Last Drop (1/?)

[ modern • vampire • Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: description of blood drinking and bleeding in general, sexual tension, angst, memories of murders of both humans and animals, descriptions of violence + a lot of sadness ]

[ description: Encouraged by the information that the town he has landed in is not known for having the most vigilant police in the world, he decides to go on a little hunting trip to finally quench his burning thirst. However, not everything goes according to plan. (A lot of sexual tension, grumpy, gloomy Aemond). ]

Yes, Ewan's recent photoshoot inspired me to return to the vampire theme, this time in a modern version. I liked my idea for the character and their dynamic so much that it won't be a oneshot, but a mini-series! The general idea is that vampires in my world no longer produce their own blood, so they must drink the blood of others: however, once it enters their veins, the blood they drink takes on their own taste and smell, which attracts victims like a lure.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

The night was cool and crisp, the sharp air pleasantly filled his lungs. Even though he didn't actually need to, he breathed: it allowed him to remember that he was alive.

The centuries he had spent in perpetual, primitive thirst, starving himself, only to finally succumb again, wove together in his mind into chaos. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since his body had gone cold and no blood flowed through his veins.

Nor was it flowing through his heart, although he needed it.

That was why he had to eat.

He made frequent use of the blood that was stored in hospitals, as did others of his kind; nevertheless, to his disappointment and dismay, this was not enough for him.

No matter how many litres of blood he would drink from a plastic bag, he still felt a hunger that only passed when he sank his fangs into someone's neck.

He didn't understand why he couldn't stop himself – why, despite doing what he was supposed to do, he couldn't fool his nature.

At some point he just stopped trying.

He didn't kill, or at least he tried not to, however, his victims didn't show gratitude for his generosity – for fear that someone would recognise him, he kept changing his location, having several flats across the country.

Alys had told him about this town – she assured him that the police did not act too quickly here, and that it was easy and pleasant to eat in peace in the large, badly lit park. Indeed, when he arrived he found, walking the quiet streets at night, that the place had enough inhabitants to remain anonymous.

This was his chance.

Although he usually watched and followed his prey for long days, that night, as she passed him, he felt a hot, strange shiver and his heart, half-living, half-dead thumped harder in his chest. He turned behind her immediately and stopped, feeling a drop of cold sweat run down his back.

She was young.

Too young for his taste.

If he overreacted and lost control, she might not survive.

But she smelled so incredibly good.

He felt his fangs lengthen involuntarily, his jaw tense as he took a slow, heavy step behind her, into the depths of the park lit dimly by only a few night lanterns.

She was probably coming back from work from a night shift at some club or bar, because she had a rucksack slung over her shoulder – even though it was the beginning of winter, she was wearing only a jumper, scarf and trousers, her hair loose, their scent reaching his nostrils even though she was far ahead of him.

Fuck, I'm not going to make it, he thought, desperate, feeling his desire intensify for some reason – his senses sharpened and his hands clenched into fists as she turned into a dark side street, between the trees.

Now.

He found himself there within moments and froze, ready to attack, seeing the void in front of him – her scent was clear, but somehow she had vanished into thin air. He swallowed hard, biting his lower lip with some kind of feeling of regret and disappointment, looking around.

"Are you thirsty?" He heard a soft, calm voice behind himself and turned suddenly, feeling his heart leap to his throat with fear.

How could she be standing far behind him when she had just been in front of him?

What was that question supposed to mean?

He wanted to lunge at her, but hesitated as he saw her cock her head, pointing her hand back at her rucksack.

"I have a few bags full of blood in my backpack. I can give them to you if you need them. I have more at home." She continued, undaunted.

He felt his lips part involuntarily in disbelief when he noticed that, indeed, her face was pale, her hair unnaturally shiny and thick, her eyes sparkling with some unnatural gleam.

He was so thirsty that he did not notice that she resembled him.

She lowered her hand and blinked, seeing that he was still silent, looking at him with some kind of worry, as if he were a stray, hungry dog.

"What do you need?" She asked at last, and his gaze fled to her neck, to the blood of others that her heart had just pumped.

Blood that would have her own unique taste.

"Not here." She said, moving suddenly ahead, as if she had changed her mind. "Come with me."

He didn't know why, but he did as she said.

Usually it was the others who obeyed his orders, but now he didn't have the strength to stand up.

Perhaps he didn't even want to.

He was so terrified, intrigued and excited that he was breathing through his mouth.

It had been a long time since he had felt his own heartbeat so clearly.

He didn't know where she had got so much courage to let a stranger, much less a man like him, into her flat. To his surprise, it was cosy and colourful, full of flowers and plants, prints and posters, soft blankets and cushions in fancy patterns.

He stood in the middle of the corridor, not knowing what to do with himself, unable and unwilling now to just throw himself at her.

She pulled off her shoes and backpack, entering the living room without turning on the light, just as he seeing clearly in the dark – she sat down on the couch and held out her hand to him, a warm smile on her face that had a hint of comfort in it.

"Come here. It's okay. You've been brave." She said softly, as if praising a small child, her tone of voice filled with serenity and melacholy, as if she had known him for years.

He didn't know why he pulled off his shoes and coat, looking straight into her eyes, why, drawn by some unknown, mystical force, some strange warmth that filled his chest, he approached her.

He watched, breathing heavier and louder, as she lay on her back, still holding her hand outstretched towards him – he grasped her fingers uncertainly in his, thinking with some kind of tenderness that they were as cold as his own.

And yet, for some strange reason, though he was dead, it seemed as if life was still pulsing within her.

He was ashamed to admit to himself that he felt not only desire at the thought, but arousal as he lay down beside her, smelling her scent more and more clearly with every movement.

There was something intimate about the way she looked straight into his eyes without fear, the way her fingers combed slowly through his short hair, the way they were both silent for a moment, just breathing.

"– it's okay –" She repeated in a whisper, running her knuckles over his cheek, making him feel a squeeze in his throat for some reason.

He was moved.

When was the last time he'd been close to someone in this way?

He moved closer to her, feeling a wonderful shiver of excitement and anticipation run along his back as he leaned over her neck – his lips, swollen with desire, ran tentatively over her soft skin.

He heard her quiet sigh, her hands clenched on his body as he slid his slick tongue out, trailing the tip of it over the crook of her neck. He felt his erection pulsate, pushing against her thigh as he opened his mouth wider and his fangs slowly sank into the delicate structure of her flesh.

The fact that she was a stranger to him, unlike Alys, whom he had known for years, made him, for some reason, not dare to be aggressive – even though he could certainly hurt her if he wanted to, he decided to show his gratitude for her understanding and be polite.

There was something pleasurable about being able to focus only on the taste of her blood as it spilled over his palate – because of the way it circulated inside her body, it was warm, though not like that of a normal human being. He didn't mind, because it was a strangely refreshing taste, while at the same time providing him with a feeling of comfort – he thought the last time he felt like this was probably when he was an infant, drinking his mother's milk.

Safety.

He took one sip, then a second, and a third, one hand holding under her back, the other trailing slowly over the skin of her neck and jaw, for some reason wanting to feel her this way – her flesh grew warmer from the gentle rubbing of his fingers.

There was something in her blood that gave him the conviction of her kindness, and he was surprised by this discovery – he felt his heart begin to beat more slowly again, and his muscles, all sore a moment before, relaxed.

He wondered if she felt that he was completely hard.

When he pulled away from her, he closed his eyes and just nestled his face against her chest, tucking his head under her chin. He swallowed hard as she placed a soft, warm kiss on his hair, stroking reassuringly his cheek and back with her hand – he knew their closeness was just an imitation of what they both desired and needed, but he was too desperate to deny himself that.

He would never have asked for it out loud, but for some reason he craved what she offered him.

He wanted to hide.

He didn't need to sleep to survive, but he liked to rest that way, even more so when he was tired and relaxed. That girl, whoever she was, didn't try to escape his embrace, which gave him the feeling that she wouldn't do anything they both might regret.

When he woke up, he could see through the thick, bright curtains that the sun was already high in the sky – he murmured, snuggled with his face into her cheek, not having the strength or desire to move.

Now, in the light, he could look at her clearly.

She had been transformed when she was no more than twenty years old – of that he was certain. Her behaviour and appearance, in his mind, indicated that this sudden, frightening change in her life was recent: fifteen years ago at most, maybe less.

He swallowed quietly and stood up, deciding there was no point in prolonging it – the girl turned towards him and rubbed her eyelids, sleepily.

"Are you leaving already? Wait until sunset." She muttered.

He froze and cursed in his spirit, glancing at the window.

If it had been cloudy he would have survived somehow, but in full sun the burns was the least he could hope for.

She stood up, apparently seeing what he was thinking about, and moved lazily towards the kitchen, massaging the back of her neck.

There were no more marks from his bite, but her neck was all dirty with blood.

She reached for a plastic cup with a straw that looked like an old Coca-Cola packet and began to drink from it, slurping loudly. She raised an eyebrow when she saw that he was staring at her without saying a word.

"What? You made me thirsty." She explained, however, without a hint of resentment or regret, looking into her fridge, filled from top to bottom with plastic bags filled with blood.

"If you want, I can make blood tart or jelly. Or soup. So you won't be hungry again." She said, still continuing the activity of drinking through a straw from a plastic cup.

"What?" It popped out of his mouth, probably because he didn't understand what he had just heard.

"You know, food. I miss it sometimes. Mixing it with blood makes it nourishing, tasty and more interesting than blood itself. It's good with ice as a drink. I once put it in a soda maker to make bubbles inside, but the experiment failed." She said with a sincere sadness that made him just hide his face in his hands.

Was she serious?

"Sit down. I'll make us some jellies. Blood and raspberry. Yummy." She decided on her own, apparently completely not needing his opinion on the matter.

Indeed, he decided that he couldn't leave as long as the sun was shining so hard, so he sat down, watching in disbelief as she pulled out the gelatine, bowl, blood, raspberries and a few other things she apparently needed to create whatever she had in mind.

Looking at her with pity, he stated with a kind of melancholy that it had been a long time since he had watched a woman cook – the last time was when he had seen his mother as she was baking a cake, his favourite one: yeast with plums.

He felt a sting in his heart at the thought that he could still recreate the taste of it in his head.

"Do you live here? In this town, I mean." Her curious voice snapped him out of his reverie.

He looked at her, or rather at her back, watching as she stirred the steaming liquid in a small saucepan.

His thumb began to pick at the cuticles around his fingernails as his whole body screamed for him to do what was better for him, which was to lie.

"Yes. Since recently." He replied.

"Oh, I see – I've been living here for four years now. I'll probably have to move out soon. For now, they think my unchanging appearance is due to good genes." She said softly, pouring the contents of the saucepan into two ice cream goblets.

God, she really does make fucking blood jelly.

He blinked and looked at her, hearing the silence around them, recognising that he should answer something after all.

"Thank you. For yesterday. For your understanding." He said finally, his thumb digging into his skin too hard, creating a small, red wound along his fingernail.

Blood.

He saw her flinch and look over her shoulder – her eyes were big, as if she was surprised by something, her lips parted slightly, as if she felt arousal.

"– oh – do you want a plaster? –" She muttered, turning back – he noticed that her hands were shaking as she set the cups down in the fridge.

He lifted his finger to his lips and licked the bright red, sticky liquid from it.

"– no need –"

He saw her reach for her plastic cup, her eyes closed as she drew a few deep, greedy sips from the straw.

His manhood twitched in his trousers with delight at the thought that she craved his blood.

He swallowed hard when she came to him close enough that he could smell her clearly again – the psychological advantage he thought he had gained over her dissolved into thin air when he realised he wasn't driven by desperation then.

She smelled so good.

She tasted so good.

Maybe he could stay with her longer?

"Maybe we could be friends?" She asked.

He looked at her, feeling that his eyes were wide open in disbelief. Seeing that he had opened his mouth to answer something, she continued quickly, as if she feared she knew what he would answer.

"I have no one here. I don't trust myself enough to spend time alone with other people. I'm afraid of hurting them. But with you, I don't have to be afraid. You're new here too, so... I want you to know that you can count on me in times of need." She said quickly, stammering a few times, as if she was ashamed of her own words.

Was that why she had brought him to her home?

Because she was lonely?

"I don't know." He muttered, this time answering honestly.

"Okay. I just wanted you to know that the door to my house would be open for you."

After all, you don't know me completely, he thought.

You don't know if I didn't kill someone yesterday, if I won't hurt you, rob you, destroy your life out of boredom, for fun.

"How can you be so naive?"

He wasn't sure if he'd really said the question or if he'd only heard it in his head, but her expression told him that the words had left his mouth after all.

"You think so?" She muttered, heartbroken, as if his opinion meant something to her.

Why?

"I was thirsty and you allowed me to satisfy my hunger. You invited a strange man into your home. I could have raped you, I could have killed you. I still can." He snorted with a wide grin, looking at her in disbelief.

He saw her swallow hard, something moist shining in the corners of her big eyes.

"Maybe that's what I wanted. Maybe that's what I hoped for."

He felt a twinge in his stomach at her words, serious and filled with regret.

What were they really talking about now?

Was she hoping he would kill her?

"What do you mean?" He asked, running his fingers over the soft material that covered the armchair he was sitting on.

I can end your torment if you want me to and drink your blood to the last drop.

"I am alone. I can't talk to my parents or the friends I had before I…" She mumbled and drew in air loudly, apparently trying not to cry.

He was wrong.

It probably hadn't even been ten years since she'd been transformed.

How was it possible that she was doing so well?

Young vampires were usually feral and hungry, seeking pleasure in orgies full of blood. She, meanwhile, lived in her small flat like some kind of hermitage and worked as if nothing had happened.

That's why she cooked food, that's why she dressed the way she did, that's why she decorated her flat according to contemporary fashion.

She didn't want to let go of her old life.

"I'm sorry." He said and once again, he was honest. "In truth, I admire your self-control."

"I killed my dog. My best friend. A labrador with big, brown eyes." She mumbled out, fiddling with her fingers, whooping with the tears that began to run down her face one by one.

She had no one to tell about this, so she treated meeting him like a confession.

"I see. Then you ran away from home?" He asked calmly, for some reason feeling towards her words nothing but understanding.

His father's numb body lying on the floor beneath him, his loud panting when he finally regained his composure – he could see perfectly his lifeless eyes open in horror, his mouth spread wide, his throat ripped apart as if it had been torn by an animal.

He loved him, but he never noticed him.

He showed him no support when his eye was taken away, instead comforting his daughter from his first marriage.

Why was it always her and never him?

"Yes." She muttered wearily, her breathing deep and laboured, full of suffering.

"Do they know what happened to you? Where are you now?" He asked further, and she shook her head.

"Good. You did the right thing." He stated.

He raised his hands slightly in the air, surprised, as she sat on his lap and snuggled into him, embracing him around the waist.

She was sobbing like a little child, and in a way she probably was one – torn away from her family and what was familiar to her, she was wandering around the world alone and aimless, filled only with longing and grief.

He struggled to accept the thought that he understood her all too well.

He shuddered when he felt her warm, heavy breath on his neck – his hand ran over her back reassuringly, giving her wordless permission to take what she needed.

Comfort.

He'd only let Alys drink his blood so far, but for some reason he couldn't and didn't want to refuse her – he closed his eyes and sighed, tilting his head back as he felt her fangs slowly dig into his skin with surprising gentleness.

He heard something that sounded to him like a grunt of pleasure when she swallowed a loud gulp of his blood – his lips parted as her hips rolled forward, brushing it against his half-hard erection.

His fingers clenched on her flesh as he involuntarily reciprocated the movement, reaching out to meet her – they both began to breathe louder, as if surprised that they were taking pleasure in two forms of intimacy at the same time.

Their bodies rubbed against each other in calm, gentle harmony, his nose sunk into her soft hair, which he combed with his fingers, the sound of her swallowing arousing him more and more with each passing second.

She needed him.

He wanted to be needed.

He always had.

When she finally pulled away from his neck she pressed her cheek against his chest, exactly as he did then, and took a deep breath, as if she had accomplished some great achievement by not drinking his blood to the last drop.

"…shall we eat our jellies?"

368 notes · View notes

sinsirellaxx · 8 months ago

Note

Hey dear! how about the toxic slytherin boys reacting to the reader wearing a short skirt?

Slytherin Boys – What they’d do if you wore a short skirt

Warning: Toxic Slytherin boys

A/N: Thank you for the request! ❤️ I have the feeling that these toxic boys are more leaning towards yandere ... if it's too much for you, please let me know!

Otherwise: Have fun reading! And not proofread – so, proceed with caution!

Mattheo …

… stared at you – surprised by your audacity. He had told you not to wear that skirt that morning, yet there you were: waltzing around in a tiny skirt. Gritting his teeth he’d stand up from the sofa and walk up to you. You noticed your boyfriend, a small smirk on your lips as you awaited his reaction.

Seeing the smirk on your face further added to his anger. You wanted his attention that bad? He’d make sure you’d get it. When he got close enough, he bent down slightly, grabbed the back of your thighs, and threw you over his shoulder. One of his hands moved to cover your ass from prying eyes as he walked towards his dorm. If you wanted to be a brat, he’d have to teach you how to behave.

“Wrong move, babe.”

You were his and he’d have to remind you of that. Not that he minded.

Theodore …

… cursed in Italian when he spotted you. The fuck? He didn’t waste another second before removing his jacket and wrapping it around your waist. He was utterly shocked, because this wasn’t like you. He never had to tell you how to dress prior to this because you never wore something risky. “Love, you can’t walk around looking like this.” He’d scold you with a frown on his face. You stared at him with sad eyes as you asked him if you looked bad. Theodore groaned loudly as he threw his head back, his hands combing through his hair. Your naivety was going to be the death of him. Shaking his head he cupped your cheeks in his large hands, forcing you to look at him. “No, bella. You look amazing – absolutely beautiful. And that is the problem. I don’t want anyone else to see you look this pretty and tempting. Alright?”

Lorenzo …

… would be livid. Not just because of you but also because of the boys turning around to look at you. He’d instantly feel the urge to whisk you away and hide you in his room, but he knew he couldn’t. Not just yet. Instead, he chose to walk towards you, glaring at the boys until they finally averted their eyes. Lorenzo hugged you close to his body as he silently grit out, “Love, what is this? Are you trying to test my patience?”

He'd definitely get rid of all the short skirts and dresses in your closet.

Draco …

… immediately pulled you somewhere more secluded before pinning you against the wall. “It’s funny you think you can walk around looking like that.” He’d growl against your ear with his hands on your hips. “Go and change.”

If you nod and do whatever he wants, like the good and obedient girl that he wants, he’ll be satisfied. If you refuse, however, he’ll grab a fistful of your hair and pull your head back slightly. Having now access to your neck, he’ll pepper kisses and bites onto your skin, desperate to leave as many marks as possible. “You’ll go change. Now. Stop being a brat.”

Blaise …

… would be hot and bothered. Loves the skirt on you. Hates the attention you get. His hands would immediately be on your hips, gripping tightly as he leaned down to whisper into your ear. “Baby, what’s with the skirt? Don’t you think it’s too short?” He’d ask.

When you proudly asked him if he liked it and told him that you wore it for him, he couldn’t help but relax, the initial anger wearing off.

“You look great, love. But only wear this when you’re with me.” Blaise said, his voice low and commanding.

Tom …

… immediately pulls out his wand and in a matter of second your skirt will have grown by a few inches. He’d never allow you to walk around with a short skirt and there was nothing you could do. Tom would still be angry with you though and depending on how you reacted to your new skirt he’d have to resort to a rougher approach.

“If you walk around with a skirt that short again you won’t be walking for long. I might just lock you up, doll.”

Comments are appreciated!

If you want to support me and my work: https://ko-fi.com/sinsirella

1K notes · View notes

plumso · 3 months ago

Text

get him back! (lorenzo x reader)

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader // reader's pov!! trope: academic rivals summary: y/n regularly complains about how lorenzo always teases and places ahead of them. but when someone else insults lorenzo, y/n can't stop the boiling rage inside. masterlist I do not consent to the reposting of my work! reblogging, however, is fine <3

Friday night and there’s no sound in the library except the faint scribbles of a frustrated individual.

Y/N has been studying since the start of the Slytherin and Gryffindor quidditch match. They have continued to study despite their friends’ efforts to drag them to the after parties. Everyone is at the common rooms socializing and laughing. Even Hermione is nowhere to be seen. Meanwhile, with their notes gradually becoming messier, Y/N is all alone. Or so they thought.

“Copying it down word-for-word won’t help with memorizing, you know,” a low voice says behind you.

You jump in shock and turn around to confront the sudden voice. You see that it’s Lorenzo Bershkire, the smug Slytherin boy you swore to defeat since first year. Since then, you made every attempt to beat him either in potions, charms, transfiguration - even in muggle studies! But to no avail. He has remained in his position as first with you as second best.

You watch as Lorenzo’s dark brown eyes examines your notes. His large body is hovering over your shoulder to peek at your work. With his broad chest so close, you can faintly smell his cologne - sage and bergamot. It smells clean and expensive.

“Mind your own business, Berkshire. And don’t look at my notes!” You exclaimed as you covered your books with your hands. You know he’s right, but after hours of rereading the same material, you felt desperate. But you didn’t expect your rival of 6 years to see your pathetic notes.

Lorenzo chuckles as he takes the seat next to you. He props an arm on the table and rests his head in his hand. His legs are crossed and his stare is unwavering. ‘Of course, he’s effortlessly good at posing,’ you think to yourself. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“You’ll never be first if your handwriting is still like that,” he says as he points at my notes. “It looks like a 10-year-old wrote it.”

You feel your face flush and your cheeks burn. “Oh yeah? Well, at least I don’t pretend to get people to like me. Unlike you, I’m not fake.”

You expect Lorenzo to be caught off guard or hurt, but he remains calm with a smirk still on his face. You can’t stand it.

“It’s called manipulating, darling. It’s how you get ahead in life,” he says as he twirls my hair with his long, slender fingers. “You should try it sometimes. Maybe you’ll get first place over me one day.”

“So you admit that you manipulate people? Wait until I tell the others - they won’t be so accepting of you then,” you say with a triumphant grin.

“Do it. They won’t believe you,” he says with a smirk.

Your grin drops and you become silent. You know he’s right. You’ve voiced your opinions about him before, but no one believes you. He can get away with anything.

You sigh in defeat. “You know, I can’t stand you, Berkshire. You get on my nerves,” you say as you shake your head.

Now it’s his turn to be silent, but it feels weird. You’re afraid to look at him, afraid that you took it too far. You immediately want to apologize, but you don’t want to appear weak in front of him. So, you picked up your quill and continued writing.

After a few silent minutes, you hear his chair squeak. Afraid that he was, in fact, hurt by your comment, you turn around to stop him. However, you instantly lock eyes with his, his face only inches away from yours.

“I only leaned in to help you, but if you wanted to kiss me so badly, you could have just said so,” Lorenzo says with a chuckle. Though you know he was teasing you, your heart felt light knowing he wasn’t sad.

“No thanks! Not in a million years.” You exclaimed as you distance yourself from him.

“So after a million years, you’ll kiss me then? I can wait for that long.”

You give him a look of disbelief before you start packing your things. This causes him to laugh.

“I was just joking! Don’t leave,” he says as he tries to stop you from packing.

You push away his hands. “Well, it’s obvious that I won’t get any studying done with you here, so I’m gonna head to bed.”

“It’s 8:30,” he remarks with disbelief.

“I’m an early sleeper!” You exclaim as you close your bag and hang it over your shoulder. “Good night, and, uh, I hope you get nightmares.”

You start walking away, but Lorenzo takes hold of one of your hands. He doesn’t say anything and you don’t look back.

Surprisingly, you don’t draw back your hand. Instead, you linger in his touch. You notice the rough calluses of his finger and how gently he’s holding your hand. You’re surprised; you assumed it would be smooth and cold, but his touch makes you feel warm.

You linger for a few more seconds before you walk away, releasing your hand from his. You want to look back and see the face he’s making, but your pride urges you not to. Sticking to your pride, you exit the library and head to your dorm.

***

The next day during lunch, you couldn’t help but think back on last night with Lorenzo. Why did he hold your hand? Why was he even in the library late at night? Why wasn’t he partying with his friends? And how did he know you would be there?

You stop yourself. ‘Why would I even think that he was looking for me? I’m nothing more than an entertaining rival to him,’ you think as your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

You glance behind you to spot Lorenzo sitting with his usual group. They seem to be deeply conversing in something before they all bust out in laughter. What were they saying that could make him laugh like that?

Feeling annoyed, you turn back around and grunt. His air of superiority, his fancy clothes, and his wispy hair - it annoyed you that you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You couldn’t stand how he made fun of your efforts and always placed ahead of you in everything. But what you couldn’t stand the most was how you couldn’t hate him.

You turn to Hermione who has pumpkin juice in one hand and the Daily Prophet in the other. “Hermione, do you think I’m shallow?”

Hermione raises an eyebrow and sets down her drink. “What a random question to ask. No, I don’t think you’re shallow,” she says with a small laugh.

“What if someone was mean, but they were also really handsome? I mean, you can be annoyed or even dislike them, but could you really hate them?”

“Hmmm. That is interesting. Are we talking about anyone in particular?” Hermione says with a secret grin that she shares with Ron and Harry.

“Uhh, no. No one in particular. Just curious!” You quip as you fiddle with your cup of orange juice, attempting to seem unconcerned.

“How about you give an example? It’ll help us answer,” Ron chimes.

“Well, I only asked Hermione, but okay.” You look around the Great Hall, trying to find someone who’s mean and handsome, but the only answer you can come up with is Lorenzo. ‘Maybe they won’t think too much of it,’ you think to yourself.

“Ummm, Berkshire, for example. He’s… conventionally okay-looking, but he’s rude and mean,” you say as you avoid looking at their eyes.

“You mean he’s mean to you. He’s always been nice to me,” Ron replies as he munches on a cookie.

“Because he’s two-faced! He makes fun of me at every opportunity,” you say with frustration. “Okay, Ron, maybe you’re too slow to see it, but surely you two believe me, right?” You give a hopeful look to Hermione and Harry.

“Uhhh, sorry, Y/N. Though he hangs out with Draco, he’s actually really nice,” Harry says with a sheepish smile.

“Maybe he teases you because you two are rivals?” Hermione says with a small shrug.

“More like you compete with him while he does nothing,” Ron says with a chuckle but stops when Harry nudges his side. “But, uh, yeah, the ‘rivals’ thing could be a… contributing factor.”

“cOntrIbuTing fActOr” you mockingly say back to Ron, which makes him laugh. “Now answer my question! Could you hate a super handsome person?”

Hermione shifts her body to you and gives you a serious look. “Y/N, I don’t think it’s about looks. I think you li-”

“What are we talking about?” Cormac McLaggen interrupts with a smug smile. He then sits himself between you Hermione. “Did you mention ‘Berkshire?’”

You shift uncomfortably in your seat and try to inch away from him. You never liked McLaggen. He’s weird and too arrogant for no reason, but you didn’t want to seem rude. “Uh, yeah. You know him?” You ask reluctantly, not really interested in his reply.

“Yeah, he’s a real suck-up,” McLaggen says as he slowly puts his arm around your shoulder. You hear a large bang behind you, but you ignore it as you try to fight all attempts to push him away. But you’re curious about his answer. He doesn’t seem fooled by Berkshire like everyone else.

“Why do you think that?” Harry replies with a disbelieving look.

“Think about it. He smiles too much and is ‘nice’ to everyone, but he’s a Slytherin,” McLaggen says with his arm still around you. You hear loud stomps behind you, but you pay no attention to it.

“Well, not all Slytherins are the same-” you attempt to say but you’re quickly interrupted by McLaggen.

“They’re Slytherins! They’re all the same. Evil and manipulative. The only reason that Berkshire places in everything is because he’s rich. He probably cheats or sleeps with the professors,” McLaggen laughs at his comment. “Or he probably threatens everyone because his parents are Death Eaters,” McLaggen says with a smug smirk.

The table is quiet and shocked by McLaggen’s bold comments. You stare at McLaggen’s stupid grin and feel something boiling inside you. Meanwhile, the footsteps you heard earlier were now right behind you, but your eyes were focused on McLaggen.

A dark, cold voice behind you speaks up. “McLaggen, get your hands off of Y-”

Slap!

The usual buzz of the Great Hall dissipates. Everyone turns away from their conversations to see you and your hands inches away from McLaggen’s face.

“Y/N? What the fu-”

“Shut up, McLaggen! Just shut! Up! Don’t talk about Enzo! Don’t even say his name! I can’t believe that, out of everyone, you are the one to judge. Do you think you’re better than him? McLaggen, you are slimy, creepy, and disgusting,” you exclaim as you shove him away from you. “Stop talking and stop touching me and LEAVE!”

Your face is burning and your hands are balled into a fist. You can feel everyone staring at you in disbelief - they’ve never seen you so angry before. But you don’t care. You want to do so much more than slap him. You wanted to curse him, to wipe McLaggen’s stupid grin on his face, to make him cry.

McLaggen looks around and sees everyone staring. His face flushes as he tries to compose himself. He then stands up and hovers over you, attempting to seem intimidating and tough. “Y/N, don’t you dare ta-”

Before he can speak further, someone takes his collar and pulls him to the ground, all in one swift motion. You look up to see it was Lorenzo. You’re shocked by his sudden appearance. ‘When did he get here?’ you think to yourself. You then worry if he heard McLaggen’s comment earlier.

Lorenzo looks down at McLaggen with a cold smile. “You heard Y/N. So, get out. Now.”

McLaggens huffs his nose and gets on his feet. He readies himself to fight back, but Harry and Ron stand up from their seats. Then Draco and his friends also stand up from their seats. Seeing this, McLaggen clicks his tongue and turns around in defeat.

The Great Hall remains silent as they watch McLaggen walk towards the door, but as soon as he leaves, they immediately start buzzing about what they just saw.

You turn back to Lorenzo and see he is already looking at you. You analyze his expression, looking for any signs of hurt or anger. Instead, he looked pleased.

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” He gives you a warm smile, a smile that he does not show often. Your three friends give a knowing smile at each other, which Lorenzo notices. “Alone,” he adds as he extends his hand to you.

You sheepishly look at your friends before you get up from your seat and take his hands.

***

Not once letting go of your hands, Lorenzo leads you to the nearest empty classroom. As soon as you two enter, he closes the door and turns around to face you.

“Why did you defend me?” He says as he carefully watches your expressions.

“I-I’m not sure,” you say as you try to avoid his eyes. Along with everyone else in the Great Hall, you were shocked by your own rage. You don’t understand why you got so mad.

“Don’t give me that, Y/N,” he says softly. It surprises you; his voice is usually cold. Too curious about what expression he’s making, you finally look at him.

“Think harder, Y/N,” He gently squeezes your hand which you realize he’s still holding. “Why did you defend me?” His eyes are pleading for something as if he knows something that you don’t.

You think harder about how you felt when McLaggen was talking about Berkshire. Of course, his comments were incredibly disrespectful and disgusting, but was it enough to warrant a slap? Why were you so angry? Were you angry in general or for Lorenzo?

‘Do I like Lorenzo?’ you think to yourself. Yes, he teases you occasionally, but he hasn’t done anything wrong or evil. In fact, he’s hardworking and reliable. Even though he says he manipulates people, he always helps those in need. ‘So maybe I do like him… as a person.’

You look back at Lorenzo, ready to answer properly, but his eyes entrap you. The faint light from the classroom windows hit them just right. His dark brown eyes shined golden. It looked like a warm pool of honey. You always recognized that Lorenzo was handsome, but this was the first time you appreciated it.

‘Oh. I think I like-like him.’ This epiphany shocks you and causes your breath to hitch. Suddenly, you’re conscious of how close you are to Lorenzo and how his hands are so big and warm.

You like Lorenzo. Probably for quite some time now. But could you admit that to him? After all the competition and petty arguments? After all your complaints about him? Would you two even work out?

But then you look back at Lorenzo and realize that, for the first time, he’s being vulnerable to you. His eyebrows are scrunched as his eyes are still pleading for your answer. Suddenly, the pride that you’ve kept for so long was now forgotten.

“I… like you.” You exhaled and felt a sudden weight lifted from your chest. All that’s left is an inexplicable tingling feeling in your stomach.

Soon, his warm body envelops you. He wraps his arms around your waist and nestles his head in your shoulder.

“Finally,” he says with a delighted chuckle. “I’ve known all along.”

“W-what? How could you have known? I only realized it just now!” You exclaim as you playfully struggle in his grip, but he refuses to let you go.

“Y/N, you’ve always been slow.” You give him a gentle pinch on his side, which makes him laugh. “I’m kidding! I’m sorry. I just…” He trails off as he draws back a little to look straight into your eyes. “I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Of course, he’s always been one step ahead of you. Even when it’s about your own feelings, he knew about it before you did. You suddenly felt shy from his intense gaze, but you didn’t want to look away.

“...Did you hear what McLaggen said about you?”

“Yes.”

“Were you mad?”

“For a moment… but I was more annoyed that he was touching you.” He gently brushes your hair back from your face. “Do you believe what McLaggen said?”

“Of course not!” You exclaimed as you gently hit his chest. “He’s disgusting and weird. Anything that comes out of his mouth is complete bull crap. Why would you even ask that?” You grumble and slightly pout.

Lorenzo laughs. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry.” His hands drift to the ends of your hair and starts twirling it with his fingers.

“...So, how about you?”

“Hm?” He replies absentmindedly, still focused on your hair.

“Do you… like me?” You sheepishly ask as you look away and focus on the ground.

Lorenzo gives you a blank stare before roaring into laughter. His laugh shocks you, but it makes you laugh as well.

“I thought it was quite obvious,” he says as he places a hand on your cheek. He carefully analyzes each feature of your face as if he’s savoring it all in before his eyes flicker at your lips.

“B-but, I didn’t hear you say it.” You say as you notice his stare, causing your breath to hitch.

“I like you, Y/N.” Lorenzo slowly pulls you in closer and closer until your lips touch his. The feeling is immediate; it’s warm and electrifying. You can hear your heart thumping in your eyes as a strange warmth course throughout your body.

After a few seconds, you both pull away and look at each other in disbelief. It seems that the intense, crashing feelings you felt were mutual. You both laugh when you realize this.

“That… was something,” Lorenzo says with a smile.

You give him a warm smile before resting your head on his chest. You feel him stiffen in surprise, but he soon relaxes and places his hand on your head, gently combing his fingers through your hair. You smile to yourself when feel his heart beating fast.

“But you should know,” Lorenzo says with a smirk, “that I like you more.”

You abruptly lift your head and give him a look of disbelief. “This isn’t a competition.”

“You only say that because you’re losing,” Lorenze teases with a laugh.

You laugh back and hit him. “Enzo, you get on my nerves!”

Hearing you say his nickname, Lorenzo smiles and a small tint of red appears on his cheek. “Good,” he says as he pulls you in closer, wanting to feel your soft lips on his again. “As long as you don’t get bored of me.”

***

a/n: my first enzo fanfic! ahhh! it's also my first time writing in second person pov, and it's harder than i thought lol. and sorry to cormac mclaggen! i feel like he's a common antagonist in hp fanfics HAHA. also, i tried making y/n as general as possible so that it can appeal to everyone, but i couldn't help but add in the hair twirling. hair twirling is just so cute to me :')

fun fact! i chose olivia rodrigo's "get him back" as inspo because her lyrics have a double meaning: (1) she wants to get back together with her ex and (2) also get revenge on him. it emphasizes the fine line between love and hate, which i imagine academic rivals feel lol. hope you liked it! <3

385 notes · View notes

tatsumeowv · 2 months ago

Text

౨ৎ SWEET TREAT

𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿: 𝘁𝗿𝗲𝘆 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: fem reader!, improper use of food (don't waste food guys), manhandling, somewhat food play(?), cunnilingus, fingering, nipple play, dirty talk, praise, teasing, groping, trey clover cums in his pants realness <3, some parts are super fluffy and sweet honestly, porn with slight plot

𝘄𝗰. 2175.

☆ sum: When your husband messaged you that he was craving a sweet treat before returning from the gym— with his love for candies and desserts in mind, you decided to bake his favorite cookies. You didn't expect that sweet treat he was referring to to be you, though.

Standing beside the counter, you stared at the flour-covered (courtesy of your flour-dusted hands) chocolate chip bags in front of you. Dark, milk, white— each having its temptation and thirst for indulgence. Tapping your powdered-covered fingers, you pondered shortly before a smile appeared on your face.

Trey won't mind if I use all of them, you mused, carefully cutting open the bags.

As you were about to start with the mixer, your husband's voice broke the silence. "Smells good, my recipe, I assume?" He teased. You rolled your eyes, wiped your arms on your apron, and wrapped your arms around Trey's neck. Adjusting his glasses, you planted a quick peck on his cheek, his large hands securely holding your waist, a gesture that always made you feel loved.

"Well, you are the best baker~." Smiling, Trey patted your head. "What's the occasion, though?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. Tilting his head, he guided you to the counter— his alluring golden eyes staring lovingly into yours. "No offense, darling, but I'm sad you didn't wait for me to come home so we could bake together." Your husband huffed a slight pout on his face.

"Hm?" You blinked, confusion evident on your face. "What do you mean, what's the occasion?" Narrowing your eyes, you raised your eyebrow. "I mean, you messaged me earlier sayin' that you wanted a sweet treat after your workout."

Trey stared at you with a blank expression for a few moments before bursting out in laughter.

"Oh, sweetheart." Chuckling, your green-haired husband pulled you closer to him and gently kissed your collarbone. Flinching from the sudden coldness of his lips, you instinctively stepped back, which was futile since Trey gripped your waist tight but comfortably.

"You're just so..." Snuggling against your head, you closed your eyes as you felt your husband hum. "...Cute."

"What on earth— humphh?!" Before you could finish your sentence, gentle yet rough hands cupped your face, and a deep, sultry kiss silenced you. For a second, you froze, eyes wide and hands open. However, it wasn't long before you closed your eyes and melted into the kiss, your hands gripping Trey's hair as you devoured each other's mouths.

"Mpmh— T-trey!" Pulling away from his lips, you gripped his shoulders while you took multiple breaths, your eyes hazy as a short string of saliva connected your tongues. Before you could even speak, you let out a brief squeal when you felt a sudden shift and rise. Before you could even process— your feet were off the ground, and Trey's hands slipped beneath you.

Feeling his hands grope your ass, you lightly slapped his shoulder. "Trey! The cookies!" You huffed, yet despite your annoyance, your face was flushed with embarrassment.

"Mmm. It can wait." Licking his lips, Trey stared at you seductively— his face flushed lightly, his voice low and teasing. "I was talkin' about a different sweet treat earlier."

Guiding you toward the countertop, Trey gently removed your apron and threw it aside. "I'll clean it later, don't worry." He hummed, nimble hands slowly spreading your thighs. Feeling your husband leisurely removing your clothes, you shifted to a more comfortable position on the counter— eyes never leaving Trey's concentrated face.

"Enjoying the view?" Kissing your thigh, Trey smiled as he tossed your shirt somewhere in the kitchen. Biting your lip, you quickly grabbed Trey's hair and pulled his head back— a grunt of pleasure escaping his lips.

"You're trembling, you know." He chuckled, gently caressing your ankle before pressing a deep bite inside your thigh. Hissing, you involuntarily arched your back and humped against the cold countertop, your pussy pulsing with need against the fabric of your underwear. Gritting your teeth, you pulled Trey's hair harsher and wrapped your legs around his neck— positioning your pussy closer to his mouth. You sharply spoke to your husband with narrowed eyes and a flushed face.

"If you're going to fuck me— " Using your free hand to grab the elastic of your panty, you slowly stretched and pulled it down with a teasing smile. Seeing your husband's gaze darkening, you let out a small coo and let go of your stretched panty, accidentally letting out a moan.

"Then fuck me right here, right now." You whispered before inching your pussy close to Trey's face. "If not," With a sly smile, you giggled.

"I always have a variety of toys to choose from."

Without time to process, your entire world spun before you felt your back hit the cold countertop, a small shiver running across your body. Feeling Trey's hot breath against your neck and his tight grip on your thigh, you let out a small whimper.

"Haa..." With a grunt, Trey ripped your panty apart and quickly removed your bra— your eyes widening in shock and embarrassment. "Trey! Those were new!" Nodding his head, Trey sat up straight and removed his glasses, his golden eyes narrowed and hazy.

"You act like I can't buy you a new pair." Licking his lips, Trey placed his glasses on you, a small smile forming on his face, seeing as you looked so cute wearing his glasses. Pouting, your crossed your arms and covered your boobs. "Still!" You grumbled, annoyed at another ripped pair of underwear.

Snorting, Trey glanced at your cookie batter, a mischievous smirk on his face after seeing chocolate chips scattered about.

"You know," Gently caressing your face with his hand, you let yourself relax under his affection. "I might take you on that sweet treat you talked about." Tilting your head, your eyebrows furrowed when Trey walked towards the refrigerator— your eyes narrowing in suspicion.

...

"Trey."

"Yes, dear?"

"Please don't tell me you're doing what I think you're doing." Smiling sweetly, Trey approached the countertop and carefully placed three items: whipped cream, fresh cherries, and chocolate chips. Grabbing your thighs, Trey positioned himself in between them, making sure that your legs wouldn't get cramps from being spread around his muscular body.

"Comfortable?" Nodding, you held his hand and observed as he removed the cap from the can of whipped cream. Shaking the can thoroughly, Trey looked at you and asked. "You sure you're alright with this? Don't force yourself if it makes you uncomfortable, dearest." He smiled, giving a gentle pat on your head.

"Mhm." You nodded, face flushing from both shyness and excitement.

"Words, sweetheart." Your husband chuckled, giving a quick kiss on your cheek. Biting your lip, you quickly covered your face and faced the other direction. "Do I have to?... You already know I'll like it anyways." You voiced out, your words slightly muffled.

Setting the whipped cream aside, you felt Trey's gentle hands hold your wrist and softly removed them from your face. "It's not that I know you'll like it," he teased, "It's so that you'll be confident and sure of your decision." Trey smiled, lovingly caressing your face. "I don't want you forcing yourself to say yes just because I want to do it."

Staying silent, you let out a huff. "Y-you can do it." You stuttered, face flushing red. "But you have to clean everything and me after!" You quickly added, a shaky smile on your face.

"Was going to anyways." Trey laughed, causing you to roll your eyes and hit him playfully. "You know I'll always clean up, especially when you can't move your legs, body too sore and full of my—" "I get it! I geeettt ittt!!!" You quickly intervened, covering your husband's mouth.

Intertwining his hand with yours, Trey pressed gentle kisses until his lips reached your fingertips— before giving them a playful bite. Humming, Trey kissed the bite mark he left.

"One more time." He pleaded, kissing your hand.

"H-huh?"

Tilting his head, Trey looked at you with an affectionate gaze. "Tell me yes, one more time."

Blinking, you giggled— "Pfft-" You covered your mouth, trying to control your laughter. But it was to no avail as you burst into a laughing fit with a few giggles. "This is— phehahah— you're so fucking cute." You laughed, pinching your husband's cheeks.

"Will you?" Freezing, you stared at Trey. With your hand still attached to his, he pressed a deep kiss on your palm— his golden eyes staring intently into your own.

"Will you say yes again?" He asked, softly gliding his other hand on your exposed stomach.

"..." A sultry smile appeared on your face. "Yeah. Yes, please." You begged, hugging Trey's muscular waist with your thighs.

Letting out a soft smile, Trey let go of your hand and kissed you deeply— your tongues dancing intently as saliva and desperation mixed. Gulping, you felt your breath waver and gripped Trey's shoulders, uncaring if you scratched his skin.

Pulling out with a shaky breath and saliva connecting your tongues, Trey watched with an intense gaze as you took deep breaths, the taste of his lips lingering on yours.

Pushing his hair back, Trey grabbed the can of whipped cream and shook. Suddenly, he sprayed a bit of whipped in his mouth and dived back for another deep, sultry kiss. With widened eyes, you happily yet surprisingly kissed him back with deep fervor—the taste of dairy and vanilla invading your tongue.

With a satisfied sigh, Trey pulled away with a lick of his lips. Staring at your cream-filled lips and trembling body, a shiver of lust and excitement hit Trey. Using his thumb to wipe off the excess whipped cream on his lips, he grabbed your chin and gently shoved his thumb on your tongue.

"Suck." Holding his wrist, you gleefully sucked on his thumb, enjoying the taste of whipped cream.

Groaning, Trey took the can of whipped cream and shook it again. Grabbing your waist, Trey smirked, his gaze dark and intense.

"Thank you for the meal."

You feel like dying.

Not in a bad way, per se. But from how deep Trey's tongue and fingers are in your creamy pussy, you feel like dying and ascending to a heaven whole of pleasure.

"Darlin'," Your husband purrs, the vibrato pouring into your already sensitive pussy. "Look at me, sweetheart. Please?" Your husband pleads, eyes sparkling with doe-like innocence as if he isn't playing with your clit and flicking his tongue inside your sensitive folds.

Biting your lip, you shook your head and remained covered with your arms, back arching and body trembling when Trey sucked hard. Licking a long, deep strike in your pussy, Trey gives you one last slurp before he's standing up straight— dick bulging against his sweatpants.

"Pretty please?" Trey begs, carefully kneading your breasts as he drunkenly licks the whipped cream stacked atop your nipples. Whimpering from the sensitivity, you remained stubborn and shook your head, refusing to uncover your face.

"Don't be embarrassed, darling." Your husband coos, pressing deep kisses and hickies on your waist. "Just let me see your face, please?" You're unsure of how many times Trey said please, but with how close he is to your ear and the deep rasp of his voice makes you succumb to his filthy words.

So, with a shaky breath, you remove your arms from your face and stare at Trey teary-eyed. Eyes hazy with pleasure and lust, lips red and quivering from the amounts of times you've bit them, nose slightly drooping with snot from your tears— ah.

Damn it.

Without warning, rough hands grip your waist— not letting you process before you let out a loud squeal at the feeling of Trey's bulge rubbing itself on your sensitive pussy. Your husband's hands gradually traveled to your ass, giving it a good squeeze before he used his body to spread your legs farther, humping his clothed dick with intense fervor. "Ugh—!" With a raspy grunt, you mewled as your husband came in his pants.

"Haha..." Taking a deep breath, Trey grabbed a fistful of hair (he made sure not to put too much force) and directed your face to look at his wet crotch. "Look, sweetheart." He purred, chest rising up and down.

"You looked so fuckin' cute I came in my damn pants." Normally, men would find this embarrassing— but your Trey wasn't like them. With a cunning grin, he undid the laces of his sweatpants. As his boxers fell to the ground, his dick sprung— your pussy pulsing when Trey smacked his dick against your sensitive clit.

"mmmh— T-tre-y!" Mewling, you wrapped your legs around Trey and arched your back, more tears dripping from your eyes.

"I love you; you know that, right?" Trey coos, slowly inserting two fingers in your pussy. Confused, you took a deep breath and nodded. "Good." He whispers, adding two more fingers to your already full pussy.

Suddenly, he pulled his fingers out— slick gushing out and dripping from his fingers.

"Tr—ey-- ?!" Eyes rolling back to your head, you gripped your husband's hair when you let out a loud moan— legs trembling and turning into mush when you felt the big and tight stretch of your husband's dick entering your pussy.

"Because I'm about to fuck you like I don't."

Was supposed to add more I got lazy to finish this (ゝз╹)

this work belongs to lili-534030. do not repost or copy.

#twsisted wonderland #trey clover #trey x reader #trey clover x reader #twst x reader #twst smut #smut #fem reader #x reader #twisted wonderland disney

307 notes · View notes

demonic0angel · 2 days ago

Note

EDA >:DD

Look, I just... I need more of that... Jorgu... Jorguman... Jorguamdnra?? I can't pronounce that shit— CLARK/DAN SHIP :33. Can we have a uhm, continuation <333

Don't break your wrist if you don't have any more ideas on how to continue it

-A.E. 👻

(Ayo, worry more about your thumb!! 😭)

Part 1

Superman continued to hold onto the man as they all traveled down the hallways silently. The woman, named Jazz, told him the story of what happened before he arrived.

Originally, she had ruled over the Infinite Realms, a place that was the opposite of the living realm, as queen regent, but when she gave up her position to their little brother Danny, he had been cursed alongside their little sister. Since previous rulers were forbidden from taking back the throne after being thrown off or abdicating, the crown was given to the other brother, Dan (nicknamed from Danny, which was weird).

“So now they’re children?” Superman asked for clarification, eying the two sleeping children in Jazz’s arms. They stepped over more bodies as they continued moving.

She nodded grimly. “The true crown belongs to Danny, since he is the one who acquired the crown through right of conquest. However, for the last few years, Dan has been the one taking up the role as king in order for there to be a ruler while the throne remains empty. He had been doing really good… he quit smoking, he stopped killing, he was healing…” The sad look in her eyes darkened into rage. “But the GIW ruined everything.”

“The GIW?” Superman asked, as he silently picked up a piece of debris to allow them all passage through the wrecked hallways.

“We call them the Guys in White, but their real name is the Ghost Investigation Ward, and they’re a government agency created and designed to hunt down ghosts. They’re a bunch of fanatic, genocidal hard heads who won’t rest until they nuke all ghosts and kill us all,” Jazz said, her tone venomous. “We can’t fight against them, so we’ve been largely distracting them with other targets. It seems that somehow, they found a way into the Ghost Zone to capture Danny and Ellie.”

The girl in her arms stirred and Jazz shushed her gently. “Shh, Dani, go back to sleep. It’s okay, I’m taking care of it.”

She fell back asleep and they didn’t stop moving. Superman digested the information, holding Dan closer to his chest. Said man was clinging onto him, arms wrapped around him as he remained asleep to the world.

He looked so innocent and lovely, unlike that murderous monster that Superman couldn’t understand just moments before.

But now, Superman was conflicted as he understood his motives.

“Why… Why did he relapse so badly?” Superman asked, a hand involuntarily moving from Dan’s back to stroke his long hair.

Jazz gave him a backwards glance and clarified, “Dan?”

“Yes.”

“… he didn’t come from our timeline. He’s from another world, where everyone in his family— us— died. He was possibly psychologically tortured by our godfather and then he broke down even further, enough that he asked to be split in two so he could feel better. It didn’t work. He nearly killed our godfather and then he absorbed the evil in him. It turned him insane and he destroyed everything. After he completely destroyed his world, he set sight on ours. He nearly killed me and Danny.”

Superman stared wide eyed at her. “And you forgave him?”

She turned back and smiled softly. “He’s my little brother. I’d forgive him for anything. And he’s much better now. He wasn’t well before. But he’s gotten help and he made the effort. He worked hard to be a better person, but the GIW set him back. So after we finish taking care of them, we’ll take care of him.”

Superman clutched at Dan even harder, a mixture of awe and inspiration taking over him. The movement must’ve jostled him, because Dan snuffled, rubbing his fine facial hair against Superman’s neck. Superman withheld a shudder and said determinedly, “I’ll help you.”

“Hmm. Much appreciated. Could you stop snuggling my little brother now?”

Superman blushed bright red. “Oh! I’m so sorry!” He hadn’t thought she would’ve noticed.

Jazz turned her head enough to give him a disdainful look but didn’t say anything. Danny, peeking over her shoulder, opened his eyes and glared at him. Superman flushed and loosened his grip on Dan, whose expression turned disgruntled from losing warmth as he whined.

Oh dear. How embarrassing.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom x dc #dp x dc crossover #ask #jazz fenton #anonymous existences #dark danny #dan fenton #dan phantom #clark x dan #jormundgandr ship #phantom family #ty for the ask >:3 #dp headcanons

164 notes · View notes

dogw1tch · 6 months ago

Text

Escapism 🍂

18+ Minotaur x Gender Neutral Reader

(Size difference, Breeding, reader has afab anatomy)

DogWitch Notes: Thank you guys for the love on my last story! It makes me so happy to know people are enjoying my work :) this one has a little more build up but it might call for multiple chapters?

Summary: The library is off limits after dark but knowledge waits for no one. Besides, reading mythology is much more immersive at night. So immersive, in fact, that the breath on the back of your neck feels very, very real.

You had been crouching behind the bookshelf for so long now your legs were starting to loose feeling. Finally, though, the university librarian had finished making his checks and began turning out the lights. He was an anxious looking man in his thirties and you felt a little bad deceiving him like this- after all, it was him that had given you the book in the first place. But the tome was a relic that couldn’t leave the library to be read in your dorm room and you were so desperate to finish it. So, since stealing seemed a bit dramatic, you would have to settle for trespassing. You heard the large wooden door echo closed and dragged yourself from your hiding place, book still clutched to your chest. Your eyes took some time to adjust to the darkness as you dug around in your pocket for your lighter. Slivers of moonlight through the window seemed to die in the shadows of the towering book cases. They looked almost identical to the grand towers of the university in the darkness and the chill in the air gave you the feeling of walking through the streets at night.

Lighter in hand, you slowly navigated the corridors to find your much beloved reading corner and lit the candles you had left there. The little corner of light looked so cozy and you smiled as you gathered yourself up in the blanket you had bought and settled down in the old armchair with your book. The title ‘Portentum Complexus’ was embossed in gold into deep red leather. Much of the writing was still in the original Latin and you had been taking your time to carefully translate. However there were passages written in English, seemingly added by a scholar years later as well as beautiful etched illustrations. From all of these pieces, you had managed to put together a tale of a strange beast, roaming the land to find his lost lover. There had been a great war between worlds and the beast was trying to bring life back to his realm. Though the creature was described as being a hulking monster, triple the size of any man, covered in corse hair, obsidian black horns and pointed hooves; he still had a gentle feel about him. There was a sadness in the Latin passages that didn’t seem to properly translate into English. Perhaps that was why previous scholars hadn’t bothered to do so. But you poured over them, wanting to find the words to understand this creature who everyone, bar the monsters of his realm, was so afraid of. Your heart hurt for him a little; after all, he was looking for his love, he must feel so alone.

So this was how you intended to spend your night, curled up on the moth bitten armchair reading about lamenting fictional creatures. University was certainly the right choice. You flicked to the last English passage you had been studying. The beast had been captured by a human army and, not wishing to harm them by fighting back, had ended up bound by thick ropes in the king’s dungeon.

‘The corse binding bit into his soft flesh as he cried out into the empty corridors. He cried for his love, for his mate. He cried for them to find him in this cold and lonesome maze. His sorrow echoed from the cold stone and surrounded him.’

A sudden noise broke you from your immersion. It sounded like the lowing of cattle, strange since you were in the city centre. It was quickly replaced by the constant groaning of the ancient building before you could pay it much mind. The library was surprisingly noisy at night.

‘The beast cried until his throat was horse and even the reflection of his own voice left him alone. He feared he was to die here in the darkness. He spoke a silent prayer to the gods that his love might be safe. His chest heaved against its restraints as the monster resigned himself to his fate.’

Again came that noise, closer now, and sounding more laboured. You looked around but saw nothing in the darkness. Your mind must be playing tricks, you knew you shouldn’t really be here after all.

‘Movement. Movement in the darkness. The beast stirred and strained to see who approached him. Staring, wide eyed and loving through the bars of his captivity there stood…’

The words cut off back into Latin. You sighed and contemplated packing in for the night, translating seemed a tiresome chore at this hour. But something kept you going, call it intellectual curiosity. You needed to know what happened to the monster you had grown so fond of. Slowly but surely, word by word, you uncovered each sentence.

‘His love. His love had come to rescue him. They picked at the lock and made their way inside. The beast stared in disbelief. After all this time, all this searching, his love had been the one to find him. They approached with caution, unsure whether they recognised their mate after all these years. “Please, do not be afraid my heart, it is me.”’

The voice startled you. You read the words but they seemed to come from behind you. You turned again but again saw nothing but empty corridors through towering shelves. Perhaps your love of escapism had just left you with a very vivid imagination.

‘His love came forward, running their hands over the restrains that bound their lover. With a deft hand and a sharp blade, they began to cut through the rope. The beast sighed in relief as the pressure on his chest was released.’

The back of your neck tingled as a warm gust of air blew through the library. You could not shake the feeling you were being watched now but the story had you too gripped to care.

‘Like felled serpents, the ropes lay limp on the stone floor and the beast rose up from his stupor. He towered above his lover but they were not afraid. They knew he could not hurt them nor anyone else. They were bound together by fate and they would always find their way back to one another.

“My love. My heart. Please, I have craved for you endlessly. Let me hold you and make you mine once more.”’

Without warning you were pulled into a sudden embrace that knocked the air from your lungs. In your confusion, you did not even scream as large hands pulled you bodily from your chair. You were suddenly being held against a wall of corse fur, inhaling the bitter sweet of hay and sweat. You look up to see, towering over you in the candle-kissed half light, a great Minotaur.

He held you flush to his soft, strong chest as though you weighed nothing at all. His breath was hot on your skin and as a rough, black tongue ran up your neck making you shiver. “My mate…” The creature’s voice was low and surrounded you just as fully as his embrace, “How I’ve longed for this.” With one sweep of his arm, the Minotaur sent your books and papers fluttering to the ground. You had to crane your neck to gaze up at him as he placed you down on the desk; his dark eyes bore into you with such deep lust that you couldn’t help a pang of arousal coursing through your body. Nobody had ever looked at you this way. The great beast stood tall over you, taking in your body like he wanted to consume every part. You felt then, something hot and heavy resting next to your thigh. Your face flushed red and you had to look away for a moment, suddenly finding yourself embarrassed as the obscenity of the situation dawned on you. The creatures cock was longer than your thigh and just as thick. It made sense with the rest of his towering form but you were suddenly feeling very exposed under the beast’s hungry glare. He seemed to notice your hesitation and cupped your face in his palm, tilting your head to look at him. “Do you fear me?” Despite it all, you shook your head. Embarrassed? Yes. But not afraid.

“I shall endeavour to be as gentle as I can. You are to bear my calfs after all, it is my duty to treat you well.”

Before his words could register, the creatures head was between your thighs. He had ripped away the fabric there and his thick, rough tongue was lapping at your folds like a man starved. A cry of pleasure escaped your lips as you threw back your head. Your thighs clenched around his head, seemingly spurring him on. His tongue began to push deeper, curling inside you and igniting every nerve in your body. A single finger, large enough that you could wrap your hand around it, began to toy with your clit, rolling in gentle circles as you struggled to hold back wanton moans. He seemed to revel in the sounds you made, thrusting his tongue deeper inside with every whine of pleasure until you were rocking your hips desperately against his snout.

You were sure you were about faint from the overwhelming sensation of it all when the creature finally pulled his head back to see his work. You were a drooling mess against the table, slick and stretched open all for him. Still not open enough to take him inside you. A chuckle echoed above you, as though he had read your panicked look. “No, not here. Once we are home, my love, I will have you completely. But for now…” He picked you up with one hand around your waist, the other positioning his cock beneath you. “For now I have other ways to fill you.”

He began pulling you up his length, fucking in between your thighs and coating himself in your slick. He groaned deeply as he used your body to pleasure himself as if you truly belonged to him alone. You couldn’t help but let out your own whimpers of pleasure as your clit rubbed against his rough skin, getting wetter with every thrust. You found yourself wishing he were inside you, his scent, his growls, it all seemed so right, so familiar and you wanted to belong to this great beast that had captured you. You pressed your thighs together as tight as you could as he man-handled like you were nothing more than a toy made just for him. “That’s it, just like that..” he groaned. The muscles under the creature’s soft belly tightened and you knew he was close. “When we’re home I’m going to keep you full every minute of the day. I’ve spent too long without you. I’m going to hold you on my cock and fill you with my calfs until you’re stretched and moulded to my shape. No one else will be able to have you. You’re mine.” Without warning, he pinned you back to the desk and pressed his engorged tip against your entrance, stretching you around him. He let out a deep, echoing growl as he released inside you, filling you so much that you felt his cum leaking out of you and down your thighs.

The Minotaur didn’t seem satisfied to let this happen. He ran his fingers over your thigh and pushed the residue back inside you, fucking it deep into your stomach. You cried out with each thrust of his fingers, rocking your hips and riding out your waves of pleasure. It felt so good to be full of him.

You stayed there a while as he kissed and lapped at your skin, nuzzling into your neck and plugging you full with his fingers. He mumbled under his breath sweet nothings about how he would take you home, back where you belong. How he would keep you full and satisfied in every way. How you would give him such strong and beautiful young. How life would be so sweet now that his mate had been found. You tried to focus on his words, but they bought such a familiar peace that you found yourself lulled into sleep, breathing him in as you snuggled into his warm fur.

“That’s it my love, rest now. I will find you again soon”

***

It was the librarian who found you in the morning. He had gotten some idea of what was going to happen that night but was honestly surprised by the sheer amount of fluid involved. He tried his best to keep his eyes shut as he threw your blanket over your body and placed you back in your reading chair. The book he had lent you was open on the floor, displaying an etching of the Minotaur and his lover in an intimate embrace. The librarian quickly pushed it shut, not wanting to be anymore invasive into your private life. He thought about waking you, there were so many things he needed to tell you before the creature came back to claim his mate. But for now, you looked so peaceful.

He locked the library door, flipping the sign to closed and letting you get your rest.

DogWitch notes: a part two may be in order if you like??

Part two <3

#monster x reader #monster nsft #monster imagine #nsft #monster smut #monster fucker #minotaur x human #minotaur x reader #monster x human #size difference #smut #minotaur

351 notes · View notes

sweetsaladpainterranch · 20 days ago

Text

Challenges of Raising a 6 Month Old Demon

Blanket Blunder

...

It was around 2 am in your shared suite at the Hazbin Hotel and you were awoken to an excited husband nuzzling into your neck with tender kisses. His body was tightly spooned around yours and you could feel every inch of his intentions for waking you up in the middle of the night. With a sleepy sigh, you wiggled your hips against him and smiled in satisfaction as a warm, breathy groan tickled your neck in reply.

You turned your body to fully face his furry embrace and you melted upon being met with the loving fire blazing in his ruby eyes.

Oh, how you loved this demon of a buck. ♥️

You ran your hands down his chest and abdomen only to find that he had already done away with his usual silk pajamas and even his briefs. Looking back up at his face, Alastor smugly wiggled his eyebrows with a lust filled smirk. You giggled at his charming display and pressed your chest against his to get even closer for a heated kiss. You were both lost in the passionate encounter of hands and lips. Lost in each other.

However this also meant that neither of you heard the soft squeak of the door opening or the almost silent hoof steps leading directly to the foot of your large bed. You were just about to straddle your mate, also feeling his hands slip under the thin hem of your cotton nightgown, when you both froze.

There was the undeniable sound of pacifier sucking and you whipped your head around to see a tear faced Evangeline standing with her tiny hands bunched into her onesie pajamas. All you saw of her face was big red doe eyes looking up in confusion before a loud record screech sounded off and you were immediately thrown over the far side of the bed.

"E-Evie, my little darling!", Alastor sat up stiffly and quickly snapped his fingers to reclothe himself, "What is it that brings you here so late?" His voice sounded thick with panicked agitation.

Evangeline climbed onto the bed near his hooves and let out a sad whine as she rubbed her eyes, which were noticeably red and puffy. You stood up, from where you landed unceremoniously on the floor, and went to sit near her while Alastor continued.

"Did you have another nightmare, sweetheart?", he cooed gently.

She nodded a few times before crawling onto your lap to snuggle her curly hair into your warm embrace. You slowly looked up at your husband and the both of you knew what was coming...

The next time you awoke, you were sandwiched in between your mate (hugging your side tightly and long leg stretched across your own ) and your fawn (who lay directly on your chest with her hand on your face and drooling). Both were snoring heavily and you thought that maybe you could be a bit late to work this morning as you settled deeper into the snuggle puddle.

...

I had a nice morning 🙂

Hope you guys are doing well.

-S.S.P.R.

#hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you

131 notes · View notes

m3l0nfl0at · 3 months ago

Text

tell your friends - t. kuroo

kuroo tetsurou x gn! reader ; secret relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, relationship problems, misunderstanding, insecurity issues on kuroo’s side, happy ending, and readers issues with their parents pops up for a second, 3.2k words

summary: this is a mini fic based off of my fic here, just say yes but this can be read as a stand alone! after you and kuroo make it official, you decide to hide your relationship from your roommate kenma. what happens when kenma confronts you about how you’re acting around kuroo? (aka reader is conflicted about revealing their relationship to roommate!kenma)

melon’s recommended melody: coward - matt maltese

Ever since Kuroo and you got together, you both decided to keep your relationship a secret from your roommate, Kenma. Now, don’t get me wrong you love your roommate but knowing you’re dating his best friend obviously puts him in an uncomfortable situation between you two. So for now, every time Kuroo comes around to you and Kenma’s apartment you pretend like nothing between you ever happened. That big fight you and Kuroo had that caused you to sleep at Alisa’s for the weekend, poof, doesn’t exist. Kenma notices the weird shift in energy between you two lately, due to his observance but doesn’t want to comment just in case it’s still a touchy situation for you both. Something’s Kenma has noticed between you two includes you blushing more than ever at any mention of Kuroo, Alisa’s playful elbow nudge and teasing eyebrow waggle towards you when Kuroo comes over, and most importantly Kuroo’s silence around you. Kuroo wasn’t usually loud like their friend Bokuto but Kenma would never use the word quiet and Kuroo in a sentence to describe him.

It wasn’t until Kenma noticed your absence in the apartment getting more frequent, every weekend he would knock on your door to find it completely empty and cold. Kenma felt a bit sad, he didn’t want to keep you in an environment you didn’t want to stay in. However, he also felt conflicted. One part of him doesn't want his best friend to stop coming over completely but he also doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable by his presence. Kenma got worried about you when the weekends of you missing turned into weeks, he knew he had to address this situation somehow without it turning into a dumpster fire of drama. Kenma needed you to know you were not only his roommate but you were also his friend first, he would never want to hurt you or make you feel unwanted. Midthought Kenma hears the door click, signaling that you made it home safely. Even though you think he’s probably asleep, he feels more awake than ever seeing you with a large duffel bag at the door.

“Can I ask where you’ve been?” Turning around you jump, met with Kenma’s striking cat-like eyes. “Ken, what’re you doing up? You scared the crap out of me!” Kenma notices you dodge the question, feeling more suspicious than ever. “So, I’m guessing I can’t ask where you’ve been?”, you feel sick to your stomach. You never wanted to lie to Kenma, you’re only doing this to protect him, right? “I was at Alisa’s, that’s why I have this big bag!”, you sputter out your words fast. Kenma lets his head hang, feeling his hair cover his face before stating the obvious. “You’ve been weird ever since you came back with Kuroo, is everything okay with you two?”, palms sweating, knee’s shaking, and fingers fidgeting as you respond. “Yeah, we’re fine. We’re two peas in a pod, me and that guy!”, you smile obnoxiously wide trying to sell your lie. Kenma laughs, seeing right through you, “If he’s intolerable, you know you can tell me right? You don’t have to run away, I miss you being here. I don’t know what happened to you two after that weekend but obviously it was bad.”

Tears well up in your eyes and for a moment you consider if you’re keeping this secret from him for a selfish reason or truly to protect him. “No, Kenma there’s nothing going on between Kuroo and I, okay? What happened between Kuroo and I that weekend means nothing, so don’t feel that you can’t invite him over. That’s your best friend, and it would kill me if I found out that I caused a rift between you two. I just stay away because he’s a teasing ass, he was like that even before we went away.” Kenma knows you’re being truthful due to you taking your time with your words wanting to convey the message clearly to him. “Well if you don’t mind, I’ll invite him over tomorrow. Is that okay with you?” You nod telling him that you had work tomorrow so you might not come home till later, leaving the conversation with the problem patched up.

The next day Kuroo ends up coming over to talk to Kenma. Various topics come up in the conversation from Kenma’s upcoming stream to how the volleyball season is going for their friends in the league. Yet Kuroo can’t help but notice your absence, questioning Kenma mid conversation. Kenma brushes off saying you had an impromptu day of work ahead of you, wanting to continue the conversation about his upcoming stream till Kuroo interrupts him yet again. “Haven’t they been working a lot more lately? I mean I get work is every day but even on weekends they’re gone? Are they not working themselves to the bone?” Kenma huffs feeling tension arise in the conversation at the mention of you, “Yeah well maybe you should talk to them about it. They were being super weird when I mentioned you yesterday.” Kenma lays himself flatly on the couch suddenly feeling fed up. “What do you mean weird? Everything between us is perfectly fine?” Kenma hears Kuroo’s tone of voice raise slightly at the end of his sentence.

He’s lying, Kenma repeats what he did with you, feline like stare aiming right at Kuroo. Hoping that he would break and tell him the whole story that you failed to tell him yesterday. “Ok well if you were both “perfectly fine” then why did they get all fidgety when I brought you up? I mean I believe them more than you. Since they said what happened between you two that weekend meant nothing but I know you’re both leaving something out.” Kuroo’s ears hear a high monotone pitch, speeding up Kenma’s last sentence and putting it on a constant loop in his head. Kuroo frantically gets up, it means nothing huh? Did you really think that way or were you just saying that to get Kenma off both of your guys’ back? Kuroo gets that you wanted to hide your relationship from Kenma but going to the extreme and saying the weeknd that cemented your relationship meant nothing? Why couldn’t you just tell him, was he embarrassing, did you think he wasn’t worthy enough to be your boyfriend? Kuroo needed to get out of your apartment fast, he needed to talk to you before his head started spinning with false truths.

“Kenma, I’ll talk to you later. I forgot I had a meeting today with MSBY. I’ll tell Shoyo you said hi.” Kuroo doesn’t even give Kenma a second to respond before going outside to get some fresh air. Immediately calling you up for an explanation, only to be met with your voicemail. “When you’re done with work can you head over to mine. I need to talk to you face to face, please.” Hearing Kuroo’s voicemail when you left work felt like you were listening to Kuroo having a panic attack. You knew you had to drop everything to make your way to him quickly before anything else bad happens to him. Shooting Kenma a text that you were going to run an errand before heading to the apartment today. Taking the train to Kuroo’s, you knock on his door opening up only to be met with Kuroo’s blank stare burning a hole into you. “Tetsu, what’s up? Are you okay, you sounded troubled on the phone?” You place your hands on his face, caressing it softly.

Your heart drops when Kuroo takes your hands off his face, “You can’t do this. You can’t run to me and call me sweet names then tell Kenma that what happened that weekend doesn’t matter to you. How long are you going to keep us a secret?” You were silenced knowing Kuroo was speaking the truth, “I’m sorry Kuroo, you’re right. It’s not fair of me to want to keep you a secret knowing that we’re together almost everyday.” Kuroo falls silent still feeling hurt by your actions deciding to let his insecurities take over, “Do you regret being with me?”. You quickly look up baffled, “Tetsu, no absolutely not! Everyday that I wake up to you I’m reminded of everything I did right in my life to be able to be with you. I’m so sorry Tetsu, from here on out I will prove through my actions and my words that you truly mean a lot to me.” You go up to Kuroo to hug him as tight as possible, not wanting to let go of him at this moment. Whispering sweet nothings in his ear to reassure him and ease all of his insecurities.

“I was scared to tell Kenma not because of you but because I’m scared something will change between Kenma and I or even worse something will change between Kenma and you. I would never forgive myself if I was the reason that something bad happened in your friendship. However, what I failed to realize is that by doing this I was causing a rift in our relationship and I’m truly sorry Kuroo. I’m scared of what’ll come after we tell Kenma about us but that doesn’t give me the right to dismiss your feelings and our relationship.” Kuroo stares at you before grabbing your hand, “Well whatever comes we’re going to go through it together, remember?” Kuroo grabs you before pulling you into the couch tickling the sides of your stomach, “Promise me you’ll tell me what’s going on in that big overthinking brain of yours next time.” Your laughter echoes throughout his living room before you shout that you promise in hopes that he’ll stop tickling you.

Kuroo’s reminded that this was just an obstacle in your relationship, the first of many but he’s glad to have a partner that’s as understanding as you. Just as you both stop laughing he’s met with a harsh knock, you both exchange glances at each other than at the door, questioning who it could be? “Kuroo, it’s the weekend you do not have a meeting today liar. I heard you laughing too, so I know you’re in there.” Hearing Kenma at the other end of the door Kuroo shoots you a glance before you grab his hands squeezing them, “In this together, remember?” You get up wanting to show Kuroo you were ready to take initiative for your relationship. Opening the door you greet a confused Kenma, “Hey Ken, what brings you here?”. Kenma’s brows furrow, unsure that you’re even real and standing in front of him right now, “That’s weird because I could ask you the same question? Is this the errand you were talking about?”

You open the door wider showing Kuroo sitting on the couch, Kuroo pats the cushion next to him to get Kenma to sit down. Kenma points at him then to you, still confused as to why you were in Kuroo’s apartment. “Come in Ken, we have some explaining to do.” you shift the conversation knowing that Kenma might need some time to process everything. Kenma sits slowly, not feeling the weird tension he’s felt these past couple of weeks between you and Kuroo. You take a seat right next to Kuroo, grabbing his hand to begin fidgeting with his fingers before he decides to intertwine them. “Ken, Kuroo and I are together, we’ve been together ever since that weekend we came back together.”, looking up you see Kenma’s eyes return back to their relaxed state. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Kenma looks up at both of you, not showing any signs of anger more so confusion.

“To be honest Ken, I was the one who didn’t want to tell you. Kuroo just wanted to do what felt the most comfortable to me. I was scared things would get awkward between us or you two, I didn’t want anything to change.” Kenma notices how softly Kuroo looks at you while you explain your doubts, “I would never hold anything against you two, you’re both old enough to make decisions. As your friend, I’m happy for you both and thank you for telling me. Just next time please tell me sooner, I thought something terrible happened between you two and you were on the verge of moving out.” Kenma knows you always had a hard time opening up due to the problems your family put you through. Yet seeing Kuroo being next to you, caressing your hand making sure you felt safe while opening up hit a soft spot in his heart. Yeah, you guys were going to be together forever and Kenma would never doubt that. Kenma’s never seen Kuroo so soft with someone before, sure Kuroo was a patient person due to his teacher like qualities. However with you he was so careful like you were made out of glass. He looked at you like you were so beautiful yet something that could be broken if not taken care of properly. He knew if anyone was going to go above and beyond for you romantically it would be Kuroo, the guy’s been crazy about you ever since you moved in with Kenma.

Kenma remembers how you used to dislike Kuroo teasing you but what you didn’t know was that, that was how Kuroo showed his affection. You thought he liked Alisa for the longest time because he never teased her but Kenma always laughed at that conclusion. He never teased Alisa because he wasn’t comfortable enough with her, it was always going to be you. Everyone around you knew that one way or another you two would end up together and he’s glad you see it now too. “Is that why you’ve both been acting so weird? I knew something was off, you started blushing whenever Kuroo came over and Kuroo became super quiet anytime I mentioned you.” Kuroo and you looked away from each other feeling suddenly exposed by Kenma analyzing your offbeat yet longing behavior. “I mean Kuroo would never shut up anytime I mentioned you, talking about how cute you were, how you were so caring, and how amazing you handle yourself! So for him to shut up? You must have him in a chokehold.” Kuroo coughs loudly, “Okay that’s enough out of you Kenma. No need to mention the past.” You laugh gently nudging Kuroo aside, “No no, Kenma tell me more.”

Kenma takes a while to remember Kuroo’s strange behavior towards you, “Well after we moved in together Kuroo came over everyday for a week straight because he was trying to work himself up to talk to you. You should’ve seen him, he was practicing talking to you in our bathroom mirror but when you would come home he would suddenly forget everything he practiced.” Kenma and you giggle, Kenma remembering Kuroo’s fake confidence while Kuroo rolls his eyes. “Well that doesn’t matter because they’re mine now, isn’t that right sweetheart?” Kuroo kisses your cheek. Reminiscing on the sleepless nights where you helplessly consumed all of his thoughts, oh how lucky he was now that you’re actually his. Now, he could scream from the rooftops that you were together, post those cringey pictures on social media flaunting his relationship, and he would tell anyone how amazing his partner was to anyone who would be willing to listen.

Kenma grimaces because even though he was happy for you two oblivious idiots, it didn't mean he had to get used to you guys’ PDA. “Well Kuroo they aren’t innocent either.”, you look over at Kenma, laughing. “Ken no offense you have nothing on me, I just thought Kuroo was a teasing jerk.”, Kenma looks over at you while his face says really? “Ok then why would every time I mention Kuroo to you you would start stuttering your words? Or that one time we got drunk and we played truth or dare and you said you wanted to kiss Kuroo even if it was just once?” You rush over to Kenma covering his mouth, “How dare you? You said you would never tell that story!” Kuroo is the one laughing with Kenma, “Aww bunny, you always had a soft spot for me didn’t you? I knew you never hated my teasing you masochist.” You cover your face with your hands feeling more embarrassed than ever, “I hate you both now. You’ve both been demoted from best friend and boyfriend to roommate and boy I tolerate.”

“Kuroo, since I’ve been demoted to roommate, that reminds me. No, you can’t steal my roommate from me. When they’re gone for too long the apartment is eerie and cold.” You slightly pull back from your hands to face Kenma, “Ok Ken from now on, Kuroo will come to our apartment instead of me going to his, so now we’ll both be there.” Kenma nods feeling a bit better that you won’t be going missing from the apartment for so long. “Do I have any say in this?” Kuroo questions before you shake your head jokingly and begin to pet his head. Kuroo deflates knowing he was never going to win in an argument between his two biggest weaknesses, you and Kenma. “So you’re telling me every time you stayed at Alisa’s you were really at Kuroo’s?” Kenma's face scrunches in disgust. “Don’t think like that Ken, gross!” Kuroo, offended, places a hand on his chest. “Plus Ken, we were just going on date’s and having movie night. Nothing like that!”, you shake your hands while Kuroo smirks. “Yeah Kenma, most we did was make out.”, you smack Kuroo’s chest while Kenma makes a bleh noise.

“Well, I’m going to head back to the apartment. Are you guys coming over too?” Kenma looks at the both of you. “Yeah, well I have to grab a bag to stay the night but we’ll meet you there!” Kuroo gets up to go pack for the night ahead while you get up to go bid him farewell. As soon as you reach for the door Kenma stops you, “I’ve never seen Kuroo look at anyone the way he looks at you, you deserve each other.” Kenma closes the door while you stood starstruck, in awe that someone who’s known Kuroo for so long would say that he’s seeing something he’s never seen before. Just as you’re stuck in thought Kuroo comes up from behind you, “You ready baby?” You turn around grabbing Kuroo and pulling him into a deep kiss.

Kuroo pulls back, “Well I was only gone for a couple of minutes but hello to you too, I guess.” Kuroo smirks as you send him a wide smile, “I love you Tetsu, I love you so much.”. Kuroo pulls back shocked that you said you loved him first, stuttering he finds himself speechless at your bold actions. “Close your mouth Tetsu, now let’s go before Kenma leaves us.”, you start taking off but feel a strong tug pulling you back. “I love you too bunny. Now let’s go.” Kuroo pecks your lips sweetly making sure to get the last word just to tease you, that is how he shows his affection after all. Both of you leaving towards your apartment feeling better than when you arrived, you loved Kuroo and that will never have to be kept a secret ever again.

divider credit to @/vase-of-lilies, @/bunnysrph, and @/thecutestgrotto

175 notes · View notes

toomanythoughts2 · 1 month ago

Text

Here's some miscellaneous Metalocalypse headcanons. I'm gonna put them here just to get them down.

Skwisgaar has flat feet, which will result in leg problems later in his life.

Toki has nerve damage to his back and he can't feel it in places. He has to go to massage therapy for it every week so it doesn't get too bad.

Murderface has long hair, his fro is just so dense. It's as long as Skiwsgaar's hair.

Stella Murderface is William Murderface's paternal grandmother, so his mother is Stella's Daughter-In-Law and his father is their biological son. Murderface's looks skipped his father, so his father and his mother were average looking individuals. The idea that Murderface's looks were the catalysis for his father's mental break were probably intensified because of the paternal skip.

Murderface's mom was very excited for William's birth. She spent a long time getting ready for his arrival. William was a wanted, planned child, whose mother was fully encapsulated in being a good mom. She took so many photos of her pregnancy and had a baby book prepared. Mama Murderface was fully ready to be a mom. When William was born, she fell in love with him. William is probably less than a year when they died, but more than 4 months. Up until their death, his mom obsessed over him, loved him, cared for him. There are so many baby photos of him up until their death, and his baby book ends at the same age of when they died.

Murderface has multiple photos of his mother tucked safely in his room. He looks at them when he's feeling particularly sad and lost. He'll look back over the home movies she took, listen to her voice, listen to how much she loved him and how she was waiting for him. He blocks out his father in the video as much as he can. He hates him more than he hates himself.

Toki has a hobby grave yard. However, he is not afraid of any hobby and will at least become competent in them.

Pickles still doesn't really understand the internet. He's got the concept but it alludes him for the most part.

Toki's family is actually the black sheep of the majority of the family and Toki is the black sheep within the black sheep.

Toki was on his way to becoming the next Reverend after Aslaug, but the family at large was very wary of this possible development. They avoided Toki at all cost due to his presence with death and his possible future position in the family.

Everyone has neck pain from head banging and windmilling, so they have physical therapy on their necks to keep them strong and to stop any further deterioration.

Nathan has back pain. Like really bad back pain. Him and his father, since they are larger men, have consistent back issues that make it hard to stand for long hours.

Rose is Nathan's biggest supporter. She co-signed on the apartment, she helped get him his first van, she helped pick out stage clothes, she painted his nails. He would read his lyrics out to her (and his dad) at the dinner table and she would help him with lyrics and support his direction. Rose knew that Nathan's life was not leading him to college, but to something else, and she fully believed that he could do anything he set his mind to.

Skwisgaar is double jointed and can pop and crack his knuckles. Murderface and Pickles DESPISE it.

While there are many "Deaddy Bears", there is only one true, original Deaddy Bear. It's the one that got burnt up in "Dethkids" but it came back afterwards. Why? BECAUSE IT'S POSSESSED! ITS A POSSESSED DEADDY BEAR KINDA LIKE THE VELVETEEN RABBIT! TOKI MADE IT BE ALIVE WITH HIS LOVE AND THE TRUAMA! TOKI NEVER QUESTIONS IT AND THE BAND IS VERY WORRIED ABOUT IT!

Murderface has gotten himself stuck in the Iron Maiden before.

There's a lot more wholesome/domestic moments within the band dynamic than their fans or even the label knows about. It's regular shit, like a routine they have worked out with themselves about how to live with each other without going crazy.

They do the "Do you want my broccoli?" "I can take your rice." "Here, take the pepper, I dont want it." kind of switch with their food when they go out. It's just a choirs of plate scraps from one plate to another.

#metalocalypse #toki wartooth #skwisgaar skwigelf #william murderface #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #metalocalypse headcanons #dethklok

126 notes · View notes