#now i just need the house to myself so i can record this

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

y'all i've been upset about nanowrimo's shenanigans since last year, when kids weren't safe, and now there's this AI shitshow, and i want to cry about it again, because nano has been SO IMPORTANT to me since 2008--it helped me hack my writing process and make a bunch of cool shit, and i've written so many stories i love using it as a jumping off point. but. we gotta protect kids, and we gotta get the fuck out of here with AI bullshit.

so. the decision i have come to is that i will still be participating in nano. but now it stands for "now a's [that's me] novel writing month." i'm still going to write a book in november, and i'm still going to shoot for the 1,667 words/day (even though my finished projects wind up way longer than that, invariably), because i've structured my creative life around this routine, but i won't be using their site any more.

i will also not be tagging my november project posts as nanowrimo, but i WILL still be tagging them as "nano[YEAR]" (because that's been my tagging system for untitled projects for uh. years.). and it's now a's novel writing month :)

[zevrans-archive]

.

[vaspider]

Listen to me. Listen very carefully:

They are trying to wear you out.

They are trying to wear you out, and they own most major social media now, along with many major media outlets. The disinformation machine is cranking along. You are going to have to slow the fuck down and read things before you help them wear out other people, too.

So you just saw a post about a real scary bill, hunh? Republicans want to make it a capital offense to pet dogs and repeal The Sky Is Blue Act of 1793, declaring the new official color of the sky to be squant? Damn, that sounds scary.

Let's go look up this fictitious "Make The Sky Squant Again Act" on GovTracker* & on the official legislative tracker on congress.gov!

Well, let's see... GovTracker estimates it has a 1% chance of even getting out of committee and a 0% chance of being enacted, while congress.gov says this bill has 2 cosponsors who have been in the House and combined total of less than a month. The bill doesn't have any actual text, and it was referred to 5 different committees.

That fictitious bill and a hundred others like it are quite literally not worth your time, and more than that, continuing to wring your hands about it and tell other people about the scary scary squant sky bill only does their work for them. It scares people, it makes them spend time and energy on it, and it wears them out. It is a legislative Gish Gallop, meant to throw so many things at people that we can't keep up.

Even calling or messaging your Rep in this case means their staffer has to waste time responding to you and letting you know that Representative Buttzonheads definitely won't support making petting dogs a capital offense, a thing that will never, ever happen regardless.

Staying engaged in this environment is going to require protecting your heart and protecting your energy, yes, but also protecting the energy of others. This is why WWII propaganda posters also included ones taking people to task for spreading panicky rumors and undermining morale.

Do you know why most observant Jews don't eat chicken and dairy together, even though the ban is on red meat and dairy together bc you're not supposed to cook the calf in the milk of its mother?** It's not because we think that chicken might secretly lactate or Just Because. It's because the rabbis decided that if I'm sitting out in public and eating turkey and cheese together, someone might glance at the turkey and mistake it for red meat and think, "oh, well, I know that Spider is a good Jew, there must have been a change, or maybe I can just justify it to myself that if Spider does it, it must be permissible to bend the rules just that much." And I would then be accidentally leading my fellow Jew astray. We are responsible for being even more careful for the sake of others than we are for ourselves.

It's the same principle here. We need to really be careful about the information we are spreading and check things past reading a news site. Is it true? Is it relevant? Is it meaningful? Is the news site one I recognize? Can I find meaningful independent corroboration on another site, which is to say, if I find an article about it on a second site, is it just quoting or rephrasing this site?

Yeah, that is a lot. But that's how we keep them from using us to lead our fellows astray.

*GovTracker is an independent site. They explain their methodology in their About section.

**I cannot say enough how I am not at this time interested in going on a Jewish Side Quest About Dietary Laws on this post. Usually, I love it, but hold off this time, please, y'all. Let's stay on target this once.

[hairmetal666]

Eddie owns a record store, gets to talk about music everyday. Life is good. Great, actually.

He's consolidating the Christian rock section on a quiet Wednesday morning when it happens. A man with swoopy dark hair, tight dark blue jeans, and a plum Member's Only jacket walks in, and doesn't take his Ray Bans off even once he's solidly inside.

Eddie is awestruck. This dude is gorgeous. Heart stopping. He watches him browse in quiet astonishment, unable to say anything until he blurts, "Can I help you find something?"

The man smiles--Eddie's heart stops--and he says, "Nah, just browsing. Your sign caught my eye."

And he's still not quite with the program, the rich honey of the man's voice taking him totally by surprise. "Ah, oh, it did?" He manages after a few long beats. "Painted it myself."

"No shit? It's great."

"Thanks, man. I also think it's some of my finest work."

The guy laughs. "How can I know unless I see some of your other pieces?"

Eddie's face heats, but he's never been known for having good impulse control. "Maybe you'll get lucky."

Spots of pink bloom on the man's cheeks and the tips of his ears. "And here I was, thinking I was getting special treatment."

Eddie cocks his head, smiles big. "Well, the day's still young." It's so risky and stupid; no way this guy is queer, but he grins at Eddie, laughs a little too.

"That right? Well, tell me your latest recommendations."

"For you?" Eddie eyes him up and down. "Wham!"

The guy's laugh is warm and rich and Eddie wants to drown in it. "Big of you to say for a someone who's only listened to Enter Sandman for the last four months."

Eddie cackles, points a be-ringed finger. "It's a good song! A great record."

"Hey, I've got no problem with Metallica. I just don't think you should be casting aspersions on Wham!."

"Casting aspersions, do you have a word of the day calendar or some shit?"

"No! It's toilet paper."

Their snickers grow until they're both hysterical, needing to lean against a display to stay upright.

It's like he's living in a dream, hitting it off with a beautiful man who just happened to stumble into his store. They catch their breath and Eddie uses the time to grab a record off a nearby shelf.

"Here," he says. "Try this."

"Joni Mitchell?"

"Don't tell me, Wham! fan, that you're too cool for Joni."

"Nah, she's my best friend's favorite. How much do I owe you?"

"On the house," Eddie shrugs.

"Shit, that's generous. Thanks, man. Now, about your art--" He glances at the shiny watch on his wrist. "Fuck, is it really 3:15? Goddamnit, I gotta get going."

And Eddie wants to call him back, doesn't want this dream encounter to end, but he's dashing to the door--

And just like that, the man is gone, the only evidence it ever happened the lingering chime of the bell over the door.

The bell clatters again, and his head wrenches up hard enough it hurts his neck.

"Was that Steve Harrington?" the customer shrieks.

"No," he scoffs. Except. Except. The hair and the clothes and sunglasses and the face and his lips--

"No!?" He feels the way his eyes have gone wide with panic. He didn't just flirt with Steve Harrington. Of course not. Not ever. He would've recognized--

He runs to the racks of magazines in front of the register, grabbing the latest issue of People. The cover features a glossy, polished photo of the man who just left the store. The one who had the highest grossing movie of the summer alongside his co-star, Julia Roberts. The one who, according to the article within, is in Chicago right now shooting a new movie. The one who Eddie flirted with. The one who flirted back.

He groans and covers his face with his hands. At least he'll never see Steve Harrington again.

---

Harrington comes back.

The second time, he's wearing a jewel blue polo and fitted slacks, Ray Bans nowhere to be seen.

"Got anymore recommendations?" Steve asks.

"What?" Eddie's still trying to accept that Harrington came back.

"I finished Joni. It was good. Recommend something else for me."

Fully with the program, he reaches to the rack behind him, handing the vinyl to Steve without ever taking his eyes off him.

"Seriously?" Steve deadpans.

"Tell me you don't deserve it after last time."

Steve studies the cover of Metallica, a complicated look on his face. "Fine, but you have to listen to the album George Michael released last year."

He mimics getting shot in the heart. "After my magnanimous first suggestion, you dare to punish me with Freedom?"

"Think of it more as an opportunity."

"To regret every decision I've ever made?"

"To expand your musical horizons."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Fiiiine. It's a deal."

Steve beams. "Good! Ring me up."

And Eddie, he'd comp it again, but Steve gives him this look that tells him not to try it.

As they pass the magazine racks, Eddie points at one featuring Steve on the cover. "That thing you wore to the Vanity Fair party last month was hideous."

Steve snorts, then laughs. "Thanks. My stylist decided to go for something--"

"--terrible?--"

"Avant garde."

"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?"

Steve pays, throws Eddie one last smile, "next time?"

Eddie nods, already certain this time is the last one.

---

He keeps coming back.

Eddie tries not to read into it.

Steve is straight, famously has a girlfriend. former horror movie child star turned cinema wunderkind, Nancy Wheeler. They're always on the covers of the tabloids, in ever more improbable stories about affairs and secret babies and french countryside weddings.

But he keeps coming back. And eventually, they grab dinner. And that dinner becomes lunches, movies, clubs, concerts. Eddie's in paparazzi photos, and there's no speculation about their relationship. Steve has a girlfriend.

But sometimes. Sometimes Steve will rest his hand on Eddie's nape, his lower back, let it linger. He'll trace a finger down the tattoos on Eddie's forearms or the patches of his battle vest. He'll lean too close when they talk, unafraid to press their bodies together. And he catches Steve's eyes on his mouth more than once, his pupils wide.

Over the next few weeks, Steve's gaze on Eddie's mouth gets hotter, his looks longer, and it's killing him. All he wants to do, all he ever wants to do, is close the distance between them, appease the gnawing beast of desire in his chest.

But Steve has a girlfriend.

They don't talk about her, not even when he knows all about Steve's best friend, Robin, and the gang of kids who adopted him, or Joyce and Hopper, his surrogate parents. Never Nancy.

He tries not to read into it.

---

They're supposed to meet for dinner. Steve scored reservations at a trendy new restaurant, but Eddie's late. Astronomically, horrifically late. It's pouring rain, it takes fifteen minutes to get a cab, traffic is a nightmare.

Out of patience and time, he decides to run the last few blocks to the restaurant. By the time he reaches the building, he's soaked to the bone, spluttering harsh breaths through mouthfuls of rain.

Steve is walking in the opposite direction, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat.

"Steve?" He calls.

He turns and this is the first time Eddie's seen him angry. "You're late," Steve's eyes rake over him, and his face softens in an instant. He takes Eddie's wrist, leads him into an alley where the buildings are close enough to block some of the rain.

"What happened?"

"Traffic."

Steve's gaze go all soft and gentle, and Eddie's knees buckle a little. "You look like a drowned rat."

"Yeah, well." Eddie scoffs. "We can't all be beautiful movie stars."

"You're more beautiful than I could ever be, even soaking wet."

He shakes his head, ignoring the cascade of butterflies; Steve shouldn't say things like that. His vigorous movement sends wet strands of hair slapping him in the face.

Steve reaches out, softly brushes it back.

Eddie stops breathing.

Steve closes the distance between them.

What a thing, to be kissed by Steve Harrington. What a terrible, glorious thing.

He breaks it fast, face red, can't catch his breath. "Nancy," is all he can say.

"Nancy?"

"You have a girlfriend."

Steve's face scrunches. "She's not my girlfriend."

Eddie's mouth drops. "Yes, she is." They went to the Oscars together.

"Eddie." Steve takes a few steps back. "Eddie. I'm gay."

He laughs, an ugly honking thing. "C'mon. What could she possibly get out of that?"

Steve's eyes widen, eyebrows reaching his hairline, mouth pursed in a bitchy line. It takes Eddie a minute but, "Ohhhhh. So, it's all--?"

"It was the best way."

"But you're--?"

"I thought you clocked me immediately! Wham!???"

"That was because of the jacket!"

"Have you ever met a straight man who dresses like I do and likes George Michael??"

"That describes five dudes I see a day!"

"And you thought they were straight??"

Eddie stares into the middle distance, replaying some of those interactions, and--"Huh. Okay. I get hit on at work waaay more than I realized."

"For fuck's sake, Eddie!" He's shaking his head, but Eddie sees the way the corners of his mouth shake with suppressed laughter.

"I'm sorry! You have a very public straight relationship!"

Steve giggles, pulls Eddie close. "Is this okay?"

"So okay."

"You do like me back?"

"Are you kidding! Thought I was going insane, how much I want you."

"And now?"

"Come back to my place?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

And Eddie, he's seen Steve playing at love dozens of times, but this--right here, in a soggy, smelly alley where they're both soaking wet--it's more perfect than any movie.

[pearlzier]

︵︵ DAY TWO ﹐ OVERSTIMULATION ☆

ᰍִ ꒰ KINKTOBER. ִ✧ㅤㅤ masterlist

NOTES .ᐣ why do i do this to myself LMFAOO im far too busy to be doing kinktober but here we are..... ana makes a decision and regrets it immediately after :3 but haii chris is so fine

WARNINGS .ᐣ overstimulation. oral (f!recieving). dom!chris. sub!reader. afab!reader. breast play. use of pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart, babe etc.)

"TASTE SO GOOD, BABY, FUCK," chris had practically been latched onto your cunt the moment he'd walked in and put his bags down—he'd barely given you time to process the fact he was back as he'd spread your legs wide and settled himself between within record time. god, he'd missed the taste of you, it'd been far too long away from it. sure, he missed the feeling of your cunt taking him so perfectly when he fucked you, or the warmth of your mouth when you suckd him off, but nothing compared to making you feel good like this with his head between your thighs.

his excuse was he'd been away from you with matt and nick for about a week. the two of you had obviously phoned, messaged, that kind of thing, but it wasn't enough. chris didn't go away much, he stayed at home more often than not, and being away from you? it took a lot out of him. so he was more than a little desperate to get his hands on you when he'd finally gotten back to the house. and now he was on you again? impossible to get him off.

"shit, chris," it's hard to talk with the rhythmic bumping of chris' nose against your clit, his tongue gliding through your wet folds and lapping up your juices as much as he possibly could. it's like he doesn't even need to breathe, it's insane. he hadn't gone up for air in.. what, a while? it felt like forever. especially for you, considering you're the one getting all the pleasure from it. judging from how he's humping the bed, however, maybe he's getting off on it too. "oh my god," you're lost for damn words.

"such a pretty pussy, mmh, missed this so bad," you're surprised he can talk as fluently as he is with his face pressed up against your warmth. "got withdrawal, y'know? can actually result in death if i don't eat you out at least once every few days," he was a fiend. absolutely obsessed with the taste of you and making you feel good. the death grip on your thighs tells you absolutely everything, this man is living his best life right there and he isn't moving. certified eater, whatever you wanted to call it, but he's between your thighs and you're just gonna have to suck it up and ride it out. "can you breathe?"

he lifts his head a little, "just fine, ma," before he starts kissing and sucking at your clit, completely flooring any plans you'd had of speaking with just a few suckles of his mouth. chris doesn't care about getting messy, how your juices trickle down his chin and the way his lips get a little puffy from working so hard, he'd do this over and over again just to see you happy. his soft moans send vibrations through you, starting at your clit in his mouth before running up your body in a burst of warmth.

it's when he starts circling your entrance with his fingers that you actually realise how long the two of you are gonna be here. you'd wondered whether this was just gonna be foreplay and he'd ease his cock inside of you soon enough but the introduction of his fingers met he was gonna be entertaining himself with you a lot longer than you'd thought. not that you mind, you're just as here for it as he is. "chris," you let out, a whiny sound, when he finally pushes his fingers into you with a little thrust forward.

he looks up at you, then, his blue eyes dilated to the point of being near black, all the while paying attention to your sensitive bundle of nerves whilst his fingers slowly ease inside of you. "so fuckin' wet, baby. all for me? shit, musta' missed me so much.." he's not even paying attention to how his fingers start to thrust in and out of you, it's all muscle memory by now. he's done this whole thing so many times with you he could do it with his eyes closed, with one hand, whatever you wanted.

"missed you so bad," you whisper, shamelessly sliding your hand upwards on your chest under your shirt to grasp your tit in your hand, rolling your fingers over your nipples as you knead the soft flesh. chris groans at the sight of that, only urging him to keep going. his fingers curl upwards towards that sweet spot inside you, brushing up against it and making the purposeful motion of rubbing against it with every movement. your fingers tighten around your nipples, and you cry out a soft sound, hips instinctively bucking towards his face.

"keep playing with your tits f'me, baby," chris mumbles into your pussy, his lips wet and slick with your arousal as he runs his tongue over you. "that's it.. makin' me jealous, honey, might have t'pay attention t'em in a second." you squeeze your breasts together, thumbs rolling over your hard buds and making your cunt pulse as chris continues eating you out. "m'gonna.." you could feel your orgasm hurtling itself towards you, not sneaking up on you, no, it wanted you to know it was coming. the wet squelch of his fingers pumping in and out of you, curled against your sweet spot, it makes your head spin.

"gonna come all over my face?" chris asks, only lapping at you in sloppier, messy motions. "gonna make a mess for me? go on then, sweetheart, there we go," he growls, and the vibrations manage to send you over the edge, your thighs trembling around his face and squeezing him there so he wouldn't move away. not that he'd dream of it, anyway, but just a precaution. "taste so good, soaking my face," you'd expect chris to move away from your oozing pussy once he'd helped you through your orgasm, but he's not deterred by suffocating in your juices, he only keeps going.

"chris, i—" you go to speak, to tell him you need a moment, but he gives you a tight squeeze of your ass and a few rougher pumps of his fingers to tell you that, well—"m'not finished, baby, so you gotta wait till m'done," he wasn't finished with you, there was no time to lose, he had to pull another orgasm out of you again, and again, and again. he was making up for his time away from you, after all. so, he kept going.

"too much, too.." you gasp, the familiar feeling of an orgasm building up once more. your head's spinning a little, fuzzy from your first climax blending into the upcoming second one. "you can give me another one, right, babe? c'mon, i ain't asking for much, just another one," he wants to feel your cunt twitch in his mouth, your sticky pussy against his face after coming for him a million times over. he's not asking for much, right? "gonna give me another one," he tells you, like he's already decided.

you're whining, bottom lip quivering as he continued his assault on your cunt. "feels too good, i can't.." you don't know whether you could take any more after this, coming a second time seemed like enough. you're subconsciously grinding yourself against his face, which makes chris smile. "sayin' you can't take anymore but you're fuckin' yourself on my face, huh? you lyin' to me?"

"not lying, no, no.. just.." another whine escapes you when he laughs, a mixture of embarrassment and the feel of the vibration causing you to let out that sweet sound. chris was relentless, he wouldn't stop until he had you trembling due to him once again. "s'gonna happen again, m'gonna come, shit, shit, shit—" his fingers curl further, and he starts to lick around your fluttering hole where his fingers are to get you over that edge once more.

"come for me, baby, there we go, wasn't hard, was it? you could take more. can take more," he rambles, moving away from you for a moment to give you some much needed reprieve. his tongue makes gentle circles against your inner thigh now, something to occupy him as your thighs shook and you recovered from your second orgasm within the span of a few minutes. but, he's not satisfied for long. "you ready?"

"ready for what..?" you ask, voice a little breathy and weak from how spent you were. your eyes meet his, hands grasping at your tits still almost in comfort, and chris scoffs quietly at your question as if it was dumb to ask. "you're gonna come on my tongue 'n' fingers again, and then m'gonna fuck you on my cock. so hold on tight, would you?"

yeah, you were gonna be here for a while.

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @beetlejenna, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @deansbite, @beridollie, @pr3ttyf4wn, @sincerebabydoll, @bbittenapples, @cayleeuhithinknot, @j2ss7, @sweetrelieef, @l3sbiancvnt, @fallbhind, @beausling, @eternaldecisions, @httqvi, @gibson-g1rl, @zayluvss, @angelssdreamss, @gxldenlush ִ ꒱

[sinofwriting]

Present - Pierre Gasly

Words: 681 Summary: Pierre has some thoughts about her buying herself a necklace.

Masterlist | Support Me!

She claps her hands together as she looks at her phone. The device perfectly angled to capture her, the kitchen counter where an unopened box was, and Pierre who was lounging on the couch answering some emails.

��So, in honor of hitting two hundred and fifty thousand followers and my birthday happening in a few weeks, I decided to get myself a present.” Her eyes are alight with excitement and she bounces a bit, fingers itching to open the box. Meanwhile, Pierre’s head jerks up, eyes wide as he stares at his girlfriend.

“I was a little nervous about getting this.” She starts to say as her fingers open the box. “But y’know it’s like a combined gift for myself and I’ve been really good at not touching my savings for the past few months, so I didn’t feel too bad about dipping in.”

Pierre makes a strangled sound.

Lifting her present out of the box, she presents it to the camera before opening the box. “Isn't it gorgeous?” She moves it a bit closer before continuing to talk.

“This from Cartier, it’s the Galanterie de Cartier necklace, which is nearly thirty thousand dollars and this is only my second time seeing it in person and I’m just even more in love with it. I’ve been looking at this necklace for a few years now and while I love my pink Les Berlingots de Cartier necklace.” As she says it, she gestures to the necklace she’s currently wearing. “It was time to give it a nice little sibling in the Cartier family.”

“Mon bébé,” Pierre starts, finally able to speak. “You didn’t actually buy that did you?”

She turns to face him with a confused look. “Yeah, I did.”

“With your money?”

“Yeah, with my money.”

He covers his face for a second. “Baby, I leave my card for you all the time to get things for yourself. You should have used my card, it's what it’s meant for.”

“I didn’t need to, it was a gift for myself.”

“Your gift for yourself, is something I’m supposed to pay for.” He argues, nearly pouting. “I was also going to buy that for you for your birthday. I was planning on going to the store tomorrow.”

Her face softens at his admission. While her buying it had been a present to herself, she also knew it would rile her boyfriend up and she didn’t often share things like this with her fans as they were more there for her talking about books, but she had thought it’d be a fun little thing to film, to let his and her fans see.

“You knew I wanted this?”

“Of course, I do. You’ve shown me pictures before and talked about it. I know you also like the 1895 necklace that Cartier does, but not just any 1895 necklace, only the one from that collection. You want that birthstone bracelet from Tiffany’s and a large collection of collectors edition books when we finally have a house and you can have your own library and reading place. I know everything you want.”

Her heart melts at his words. Pierre was sweeter than most people gave him credit for and he often showed that side of himself to her, but she had no idea how much he paid attention to things she wanted.

“C’mere.” She murmurs, setting her necklace on the counter, arms outstretched.

He easily swings his body over the back of the couch and grabs at her hips as soon as she’s in arms reach before kissing her.

“Is this close enough for you?” He asks when they break away to breathe.

Her teeth find her bottom lip as she shakes her head slowly. “I think you can get closer.”

Pierre smirks at the response, capturing her lips in another kiss as he moves one of his legs between hers. “How about you stop recording for tiktok and we record something else?”

A laugh leaves her at his words, but she’s already reaching for her phone. “Only if I get to be on top.”

“Deal.”

[mirrorball-leclerc]

track seven - i don't regret it one bit, 'cause he had it coming

series masterlist

WINTER BREAK 2023

ines_alonso, oscarpiastri, and charles_leclerc posted new stories

last night's gingerbread houses, 3 guesses which one's mine babysitting duties today 😁 watching bluey because according to the kiddos it's the show that reminds them of danielricciardo, for the record he does give off bandit energy, so i agree petite fraise is very happy at the alonso-leclerc-piastri home gotham's greatest protector is so cute, villains tremble before him

liked by lilymhe, francesca.cgomes, kellypiquet and others

ines_alonso first year hosting in the alonso-leclerc-piastri home this year in spain next year its monaco, trust me. p.s. charles is officially banned from stepping foot in our kitchen.

tagged: charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, fernandoalo_oficial

view all comments

maxverstappen1 oh my god, what the hell did he do this time?

oscarpiastri the firefighters were involved this time max, that's all you need to know charles_leclerc okay, you people are being dramatic and i am not being dramatic ines_alonso THE OVEN WAS ON FIRE! THERE WERE FLAMES CHARLES! charles_leclerc you're being dramatic, there was no fire oscarpiastri the firemen laughed at you charles, there was a fire.

user1 two cats and charles leclerc? how the hell do they manage?

oscarpiastri i ask myself that same question every day charles_leclerc fuck you, i'm a delight ines_alonso except when we have to call the firemen because someone lit the oven on fire BAKING COOKIES!

user2 the matching pjs and slippers?? oh i'm in love with this trio

user3 inés, how did you convince them to get matching pjs and slippers?? i need tips on how to convince my partner

ines_alonso threaten to withhold sex, it does wonders user3 why didn't i think of that? fernandoalo_oficial i can read this... charles_leclerc what's sex? never heard that word in my life 😅 oscarpiastri what is this sex she speaks of?? fernandoalo_oficial watch your backs going into turn 1 in bahrain user4 peepaw, stop causing controversies, this is why they call you a war criminal

francesca.cgomes marry me and make me delicious treats??

ines_alonso meet me at the courthouse tomorrow?? pierregasly absolutely not! oscarpiastri now i'm thinking we should've had you and kika get fake married instead of charles and max charles_leclerc why are you always feeding into this shit? oscarpiastri why not?

user5 she has style and yet her partners always dress in the same skinny jeans and shorts

user6 oscar needs to step up his fashion style user7 charles needs to wear something that isn't those fuckass tiedye jeans user5 those jeans are a horror to humanity

alex_albon there is not a single thought behind those eyes, just like oscar

oscarpiastri stop slandering my name alex_albon tell your girlfriend to stop flirting with mine and i'll stop oscarpiastri carry on, there's no use in me telling her, she'll never stop

user5 nano living up to the chaos of fernando alonso

user6 i bet he knocked down the tree ines_alonso he did and the charles scolded him, it was quite hilarious to see

georgerussell63 why does honey always look like that?

ines_alonso like what? georgerussell63 lost charles_leclerc she gets it from her father oscarpiastri fuck you, she gets it from you georgerussell63 this was not about either one of you but i fear i may have just started a war

jensonbutton the wife is demanding to know where you got those slippers from

ines_alonso i'll send her the link in exchange for pictures of you in them! brittnybutton deal! ines_alonso pleasure doing business with you mrs.button

ximena.gomez nice holiday?

ines_alonso i'm still mad at you but they're at each other's throats ximena, help me. pierregasly at each other's throats or in each other's throats? ines_alonso blocked and reported.

user8 wait, so they did get a place in spain?

user9 it looks like they did but it could be a rental for the holiday season? user10 honestly, i would love it they got a place in spain because that would mean the s*inz mafia can't get away from them even in spain use8 they can't get away from them even in sp

user11 honestly can't tell who i'm supposed to be more jealous of, inés for having two hot boyfriends or charles and oscar for dating inés

user12 charles and oscar because they have inés. i mean who gets jealous over the men? user13 all three?? user11 i think all three is the only right choice

FEBRUARY 1ST, 2024 AKA DIVORCEGATE

FEBRUARY 7TH, 2024 AKA GASLIGHT, GATEKEEP, GIRLBOSS

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, fernandoalo_oficial and others

ines_alonso i've always looked good in navy 💙

tagged: redbullracing

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charles_leclerc words cannot describe how proud we are of you mon soleil. looking forward to racing against you next year! ❤ by ines_alonso

oscarpiastri so excited to be racing against you again sunshine. i can't believe we finally get to share the same tracks again, looking forward to it! ❤ by ines_alonso

patriciooward felicitaciones hermana! this is what you deserve and so much more, i can't wait to see what you do on the track! ❤ by ines_alonso

alex_albon INÉS JESSICA ALONSO, HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US?!

ines_alonso my middle name is not jessica alex_albon I DON'T CARE! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME, YOUR BEST FRIEND?? AND I FUCKING BET MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN KNEW! maxverstappen1 I HAVE AN NDA YOU DIMWIT?! alex_albon I DON'T CARE?! THIS IS THE SHIT WE TELL EACH OTHER!!

fernandoalo_oficial no hay suficientes palabras para describir lo orgulloso que estoy de ti. te mereces esto y todo lo bueno que hay en tu vida. [translation: there are not enough words to describe how proud i am of you. you deserve this and everything else that is good in your life] ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso papa, voy a llorar fernandoalo_oficial it's okay, i'm crying too

jensonbutton going to miss one of my favorite co-hosts, who else will help me terrorize the evil woman?? but congratulations baby alonso, glad your dream finally came true. ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso it's okay jenson, we can terrorize her post race together, i promise. and thank you, it means a lot 🥹

isahernaez felicitaciones pequeña!! te lo mereces, no dejes que nadie te diga algo diferente! [translation: congrats little one!! you deserve it, don't let anyone tell you anything different] ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso gracias isa! espero verte en una carrera pronto! [translation: thank you isa! i hope to see you at a race soon] isahernaez obvio! nadamas dime cuando y ahí estoy, tengo que apoyar a mi pilota favorita [obviously! tell when and i'll be there, i have to support my favorite driver] userxx i love the survived carlos sainz jr club ❤ by ines_alonso and isahernaez

sabrinacarpenter CONGRATULATIONS!!!

ines_alonso THANK YOU!!!

user14 wait, so who's the wag now?

oscarpiastri we're both her wags charles_leclerc we're just ken and she's everything user14 down bad, both of you

louieee BITCH?! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME?!

ines_alonso I'M SORRY BABY!! I COULDN'T TELL YOU!! louieee I'M SO PROUD OF YOU BABY!! YOU DESERVE THIS AND EVERYTHING GOOD IN LIFE!!

carlossainz55 wow, what a way to stab your own brother in the back

ines_alonso womp womp oscarpiastri womp womp charles_leclerc womp womp maxverstappen1 womp womp louieee womp womp patriciooward womp womp fernandoalo_oficial womp womp alex_albon womp womp jensonbutton womp womp logansargeant womp womp aussiegrit womp womp pierregasly womp womp sebastianvettel womp womp lewishamilton womp womp kimimatiasraikkonen womp womp user15 KIMI? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!

redbullracing looking forward to working with you in 2025! ❤ by ines_alonso

user16 SHUT THE FUCK UP?! RED BULL RACING JUST EARNED A NEW FAN!!

user17 carlos sainz jr found screaming and throwing up in a ditch somewhere

schecoperez felicitaciones baby alonso!!

ines_alonso gracias checo!

taylorswift congrats little alonso 💙 ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso I'M RACING WITH THE NUMBER 13 MOTHER!! patriciooward i'm begging you, be normal for once taylorswift that's a great number to pick 😉

user18 i bet oscar and charles are glad to have red bull in the house without seeming like traitors for going out and buying it

user19 bestie, what the fuck does that mean? user18 oscar once said he doesn't like monster but he does drink another energy drink (red bull i'm guessing) and charles just seems like he's hopped up on red bull 80% of the time. user20 those bitches love to drink red bull and you can't convince me otherwise

tkelce congrats inés and good luck next year!

ines_alonso i might be freaking out a little bit right about now but thank you! danielricciardo no inés, you must stand strong, go bills! ines_alonso i'm so sorry mr. kelce but my loyalties align with the honey badger tkelce okay? user21 nothing is better than someone like travis kelce getting involved in the world of formula 1 because these people are insane and he's not ready for their chaos.

kellypiquet congratulations, looking forward to spending time with you in the garage next year 🩷

ines_alonso thank you kelly, looking forward to terrorizing max with p 🩷 maxverstappen1 p does not terrorize me, you and alex on the other hand... alex_albon okay, so find other friends bitch. oh that's right, you can't!

pedri felicitaciones!!

ines_alonso gracias pedri!!

user22 all these people congratulating inés because it's what she deserves is making me tear up a little bit.

aussiegrit congratulations inés, there's no doubt you'll do amazing.

ines_alonso be honest, is oscar holding you at gun point? aussiegrit they're going to think i hate you ines_alonso jury's still out to be honest

lewishamilton it'll be an honor to share the track with you inés

ines_alonso thank you lewis, that means a lot coming from you

nicorosberg make sure you terrorize max for me

ines_alonso will do britney 🫡 maxverstappen1 i will wipe the floor with her nicorosberg i will destroy you on sky sports and will tell fernando exaggerating lies that you said about inés ines_alonso i just sit back and giggle at this chaos

danielricciardo make me proud baby alonso!

ines_alonso always honey badger user23 and this one goes to all the haters who were saying what about daniel? clearly he was aware of this and is fine with it. y'all are just misogynistic.

eliasowens congratulations kid, i might give you a lot of shit for stealing my kids but you deserve this, don't let lord voldemort ruin this for you

ines_alonso elias, i love your kids, jury's still out on you but thanks. eliasowens you suck sometimes inés

¡taglist!

@minmira95 // @lesliiieeeee // @vroomvroommuppett // @prongsvault // @justtprachisblog // @scuderiadevils // @cataf // @chezmardybum // @formulaal // @lilsiz // @norstappenvibes // @ironspdy // @nikfigueiredo @hinamesgigantica // @niniluvsainz // @matchaverse // @fakeikeastore // @theseus-jpg // @six-call // @81folklore // @emppusofi // @luvsforme // @nichmeddar // @loloekie // @luvpedro // @donttouchthegnote // @nothaqks // @inferiusreggie // @mochimommy2002 // @rach3164 // @clove08 // @clove0 // @lillysbigwilly // @jenxjar // @blupblupfish // @thereadinggremlin05 // @meowiarty // @magical-spit // @camdensreg // @laneyspaulding19 // @ocyeanicc // @yelenasloverrrrr // @percervall // @blushmimi // @spilled-coffee-cup // @greantii // @ietss // @yeanoskrrt // @brakingboundaries

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¡leclerc-s speaks!

𝜗𝜚 i hope all of you that celebrate christmas had a great one, this was originally supposed to go up yesterday but i forgot to post it.

𝜗𝜚 and yes, this is 100% what the poll i posted ages ago was about, so writing this part, that deals with 2024 preseason is insane to me because the 2024 season was just so chaotic and heartbreaking. i am so not ready to write out logan and daniel's departures, even writing this part knowing what i know about daniel and red bull breaks my heart. plus even though it's a fanfic i don't feel good about this plot point and me just blatantly putting yuki to the side this way. i know why he didn't get the red bull seat but i have every right to be upset about it either way and i will be for a while.

¡disclaimer! 𝜗𝜚 this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[gotta-winwin]

(🐍) ... minghao x reader

⭐ starring: minghao

💌 genre/wc: angst, light fluff / 1.2k

💬 preview: you stumble across old records from a damaged diary that seems to hold the conversations between a student and a boy living within the pages.

tw/cw: slytherin!minghao x hufflepuff!reader, diary format, spoliers for the chamber of secrets, needs previous knowledge of hp lore, abstract death, tom riddle appearance

🪽fic rating: pg

☁️ masterlist & a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and i'm putting it out in hopes of giving myself some time to work on other stuff hehe. this one's a bit experimental with the format but hope you all enjoy!

p.s thank you so much to @ylangelegy and @diamonddaze01 for beta reading !

hello. fifth year slytherin, here. i found this journal lying in one of the professor’s cupboards - long abandoned, it seems. it looks to contain the mad ramblings of two people, conversing through the pages. i cannot seem to figure out who this once belonged to, pages have been torn out and blurred by water - so i’m writing in hopes another student might. 

read it, and let me know if anything comes to mind. 

if i have to sit through another class with professor bins, i will avada myself. 

finally, something worth replying to. your class notes are utterly boring. 

WHAT THE FUCK THE BOOK SPEAKS

…yes, i speak. 

go away. you’re speaking over my class notes. 

they weren’t good notes anyways. barely competent. abysmally below average. 

i cannot believe i’m being insulted by a book right now.

i cannot believe my pristine pages are being vandalized by an incompetent student, yet here we are. 

mr. book, 

what. 

shut up.

mr. book,

what is it now, incompetent student? 

can you write my notes for me. pls pls pls i will owe you for life.

that is a very dangerous game to play. 

my hand hurts. and you keep saying you’re so smart. write my notes for me.

what house are you in?

hufflepuff. why? 

no. i will not write your notes for you. 

bro. 

what is a bro ?? 

you know what, never mind. i’ll write them myself. i hope the ink drowns you. 

incompetent student  hufflepuff girl y/n?? respond to me now. 

yes, book?

MY NAME IS NOT BOOK 

you refused to tell me your name so i’m sticking with book. mr. book. 

can you go to the dungeon bathroom and check one of the faucets for me. 

uh. why? 

because i said so. 

i’m going to waterboard your pages.

you’re quite snappy for a hufflepuff. just go check. 

say please.

no. 

i’m holding a cup of water above you right now.  hello? mr. book?

please. check the faucets. 

see? wasn’t so difficult. i’ll go now.

minghao. 

what? 

my name. stop calling me mr. book

MINGHAOOO

what. 

i’m bored. 

silly girl. and what am i supposed to do about that?

tell me about yourself. when were you at hogwarts? 

a long time ago. 

psh. of course i know that. 

professor bins was still alive when he taught me. just as boring, trust me. 

ooo what else? who were your friends? anyone famous? 

i wouldn’t know. i never graduated. 

what? 

the faucet. did you check? 

i did. there’s like a snake or something, but it didn’t do anything. 

oh. y/n? 

yeah? 

don’t go to that bathroom anymore. 

why?

just don’t. 

hao. people are saying there’s a snake in the walls. 

what do you mean?

there was blood on the walls too. talking about the chamber of secrets. 

fuck. 

minghao? do you know something? 

don’t go anywhere alone. promise me. stay with your friends. 

i’m scared

you should be.

stop that. 

what? hao? 

grown fond of your little friend, xu minghao? 

tom. stop.  i’m sorry, my heart. ignore him. 

who? hao, what is going on?

has he neglected to tell you? he isn’t the only inhabitant of this journal. and turns out, he isn’t strong enough to silence me.  keep hiding, y/n. i’ll find you soon enough. 

hao? 

i’m sorry.

i think i’m starting to go a bit crazy. 

is everything alright? are you safe? 

i’m fine, hao. you worry too much. 

i must admit that i’ve grown fond of you. 

even if i’m a hufflepuff? 

you’re the most tolerable hufflepuff i know. 

:)  is the uh. tom guy still with us?

my magic suppresses him in short periods of time. we’re alone at the moment. 

i still don’t understand. both of you are…inside the book. 

tom was here first. the journal was given to me my fifth year, and i spoke to him - much like you right now. from what i’ve gathered, this journal holds a piece of his soul. and a piece of mine as well. 

how? why? 

[redacted] [redacted] 

you are beginning to care for the girl.

i admit she has grown on me.

no. you’ve grown to love her. our souls are intertwined whether you enjoy it or not. do not pretend i cannot feel your emotions. 

have mercy.  spare her. 

are you finally regretting your choice, xu minghao?  you once promised me a life in exchange for your life and access to your soulmate. so i spared you, and stored you here with me.

please. 

this is what greed gets you, my dear friend.  you promised me a life. and i choose hers.

please. 

finally. you learn to beg. 

she is innocent. 

she is your soulmate. the strongest magic our world has. and for that, she is valuable. 

my heart. 

hao? 

i need you to destroy this journal. now.  

what? why? 

tom must be stopped. i will not let him harm you. destroying the journal will destroy his soul too.

but you’re in the journal too.

yes. a small price to pay for your life. 

i won’t do it. 

you must.

no. i’m not killing you.

i’ve been dead for a long time, my heart. 

i won’t. you cannot make me. 

you’re wetting the pages with your tears. stop crying. 

hao…

do it. just because the journal is gone doesn’t mean i won’t be with you. every step of the way. 

how cute. 

note: 

> xu minghao: previous slytherin student, renowned potion student. his name is on one of the potion award plaques in the great hall. he died during the second opening of the chamber of secrets, an underground location rumoured to house the slytherin basilisk. 

> y/n: referred to as ‘my heart,’ there is no real indication of who she is. while there is a professor portrait in the headmaster’s office who shares the same name, i cannot be certain they are the same person. 

> tom: he can only be assumed as he-who-shall-not-be-named, a dark wizard who was killed by the-boy-who-lived years ago. 

note: 

> the pages are burnt at the edges, erasing most of the conversation that would allow this to make more sense. it is clear to me that someone destroyed this. 

note: 

> i found something when searching the bathroom mentioned in the first couple entries. i will clip it here. 

is he gone?

for now. i cannot contain him for much longer. you must hurry.

you cannot expect me to do this.

from the short time i’ve come to know you, i know that despite being a hufflepuff, you hold the courage of a gryffindor, the brains of ravenclaw, the wit of a slytherin.  do not be afraid. 

are you not afraid? this could kill you.

i have to admit a part of me still fears death after all this time.  but this is my price to pay. i love you, even in the short time we had. 

i love you. even if this version of you is only a figment of what you were. 

note: 

> a point i must bring up: minghao refers to y/n as ‘my heart.’ at first i thought it was just a term of endearment, but upon further research:  Soulmates are rare in the wizarding world, although not at all impossible. Soulmates share more than their magic, they share their hearts. One cannot die if the other is still alive -- making soulmates the most powerful form of magic to exist. It may be the only way to cheat death without the use of a horcrux.

[daisies-and-domming]

Hiiii! Love your writing 😘😘 wondering if you wanted to write about mammon and a little pet play with a gentle soft Dom!AFAB Mc (or GN). Have a nice day!!!

It's Always Sunny With You (NSFW)

Summary: Mammon always takes his brothers’ harsh words head on - he doesn’t care what they have to say about him! But after overhearing his brothers talking behind his back, Mammon isn’t sure how much more he can take. Sometimes, your little puppy needs to be reminded how much you love him (and just how good he is).

Warnings: sub!mammon, dom!reader, hurt/comfort, starts out angsty with a capital A, swearing, pet play, reader calls mammon “puppy” and “pup”, mammon calls reader “master”, body worship, so so much praise

Let me know if you think I missed anything!

All characters are over 18 :) 

– – – 

Oh Mammon my sweet sweet boy :( So excited to be writing for him! He deserves all the love in the world, and sometimes he seems to forget that. Thank you so much for the request, I hope you enjoy! Sorry that there’s so much exposition, I can’t help myself sometimes…

– – –

Mammon put up with a lot.

This much was clear - as one of the seven rulers of hell, the second oldest at that, he had a lot on his plate. No matter how idiotic, or greedy, or in his own world he acts, he does really love his brothers (don’t you go telling any of them, now!).

Which made what was happening right now hurt so much more.

He knows he isn’t the world’s best older brother - hell, he could be a pretty terrible one at that - and the way he acted 99.9% of the time reflected that. Like all the times he’s pawned off some ridiculous anime figure of Levi’s (why have it if you’re just going to keep it in the box, huh?), or one of Satan’s first edition books, or one of Lucifer’s cursed records, or-… you get the point. He certainly has a greedy streak, but he can’t help it, okay? That’s his whole shtick, for crying out loud! Sure, he tends to gamble all the money he earned from pawning their stuff, but so what if he did? He always wins it all back eventually, anyhow. Especially if he has you - his lucky treasure - at the tables with him. He swears he always wins when you’re there to cheer him on.

But you weren’t here now, were you?

No one in this family had any idea of how to have a quiet conversation; Lucifer had eyes and ears in every nook and cranny anyways, so what was the point? It’s impossible to keep a secret in this house, so there really wasn’t any point in trying.

“-he doesn’t even treat them right, have you seen how unhappy they are when they’re with him?”

“And he’s so annoying, too. They don’t want to spend every breathing second with you, y’know?”

Immediately, tears blur his vision, and he picks up his pace. Stupid Satan and stupid Leviathan and stupid stupid Mammon. Do ya even love him? He wondered, fumbling his way into his room. Was he really just as bad as they were sayin’? He curled himself up on his bed, wrapped tight in the sheets, and sobbed quietly into his pillows. He knows he doesn’t deserve you - beautiful, kind, sweet, perfect you - it was inevitable that he would lose you. He never could hold on to treasure very long, anyways, how was he going to manage to keep one as precious as you? Who would want to stay with a greedy, annoying, clingy, disaster like him anyways? You were his everything, the reason the sun rose, the air he breathes, his most valued treasure. But you had so many people around you who loved you, who could love you better than him. Hell, you have the whole Devildom wrapped around your little human finger. Not to mention the angels who flock to you like you’re their reverie, and the shady sorcerer who insisted on taking you as his apprentice. All the powerful forces of the three Realms would come to your beck and call, so why would you want to have anything to do with someone like him?

Stupid, idiot Mammon. No one could ever love someone like you, anyways.

– – –

You sighed, trying your best to discreetly glance around the table. The brothers were rowdy as always, but one voice was missing - the voice of your boyfriend. While Mammon wasn’t always the most punctual, Beel had almost obliterated all the food already, and he hadn’t even come down yet to “grace the table with the Great Mammon’s presence”. Thinking of him made you smile at your food, but your smile didn’t last for long. 

He’s never this late to dinner… you chewed the inside of your cheek, worried. I wonder if he’s okay?

“-MC, are you listening to me?”

You snap your head up from your plate, Lucifer’s piercing eyes staring you down. You flush, embarrassed, and scramble to respond.

“Y-yeah, yeah of course Lucifer! Just thinking about how dinner is so good, who made it tonight, haha? My compliments to the chef, they did a-”

“You’ve said enough. I could tell you weren’t present with us, anyways.” He glances at Mammon’s empty seat, and turns his eyes back to you. “It’s pretty obvious why.”

“Yuck, you guys are so gross!” Levi shouts, sticking his tongue out. “You know that’s normie behavior, right, MC? It’s so gross how you’re ‘in love’, or whatever-”

Lucifer rolls his eyes, ignoring Leviathan’s ranting. “Go check on him.”

You perk up, looking at him, surprised. “Really? Okay!”

Without as much as a second thought (much to the chagrin of the six brothers who were present at dinner) you throw together a plate of food and rush off to Mammon’s room. You wondered if he was sick (do demons get sick?), or maybe if he fell asleep - you knew he tended to stay out late, even on school nights. That can’t be right, you thought with a frown. He was with me last night.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost walk past his door. Double-taking, you take a few steps back and rap your knuckles on his door, to no response.

“Mammon?” Nothing.

“Hey Mammon, it’s MC! I brought you dinner, if you’d like it!”

 Still nothing.

“Mammon, are you in there…?”

A muffled “Go ‘way!” rings out, and you drop your hand that had been knocking to your side.

“At least come get your dinner, you didn’t eat!” “‘m not hungry.”

You twist the handle, noticing he didn’t lock the door. “Alright, I’m coming in there-”

“No!” you get the door about halfway open before a force is pushing it back closed. You throw your foot in the doorframe, wincing as the door tries to slam closed through your foot. Taking a peek in, you notice the room is dark. You can make out the outline of a blanket, strewn on the floor (presumably in Mammon’s hurry to close the door on you), and about nothing else. 

You push against the door, adamant this time. “Mammon, please, if you don’t want to talk to me about whatever happened yet, that’s fine, but please, at least take the food-”

The door opens just wide enough for Mammon to snatch the plate out of your hands. You don’t even see him, really - just the blur of his arm reaching around the door, and the feeling of the door once again trying to close through your foot. 

“I took the food, ya can go now-”

“Did I do something wrong?” He falls silent at your words, and you go on. “I’m sorry if I did, but please, let me make up whatever I did wrong-”

You thought that you had done something wrong? Mammon’s dumbstruck - you were perfect, you were you, why would you ever think you were the one in the wrong? Wasn’t it obvious that this was all his fault?

“...Mammon?” you sigh. “I- if you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay, I’m sorry I came to bother you, you clearly don’t want me to be here.”

He can hear your frown through the door, the tears that are probably hanging at your waterline, the dejected tone in your voice. Without thinking, he haphazardly sets the plate of food down, Diavolo knows where, and throws the door open just as you’re pulling your foot out of the frame. You blink up at him, surprised, and he immediately shrinks in on himself. He knows he’s a mess right now - ruffled hair, puffy eyes, wrinkled clothes - but he also knows that he can’t have you thinking you did something wrong. He may be a terrible boyfriend according to his brothers, but he won’t be that terrible of a boyfriend.

“Oh, honey,” you say, voice as soft as velvet, taking a few steps toward him. “Are you okay?”

And you watch as he just crumples, tears flowing openly again. He’s desperately sniffling, rubbing at his eyes, trying to get them to stop, but now that the floodgates have been opened, he can’t control them anymore. 

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, I’m the great Mammon, after all!” he responds shakily, trying his best (and failing) to hold in his tears. “Nothing shakes me, ya know that, treasure.”

You frown at him, worry written all over your face. You gently push your way into his room, and he lets you, looking everywhere but your face as you gently close the door behind you. The gentle click of the lock catches his ear, but he’s more focused on you. He winces as you click the light on, too, and hopes you don’t mind how he looks right now. He can feel your gaze on him, all of him, tearing apart whatever walls he was feebly trying to keep up. You always knew what was up, even when he wouldn’t say it. It was one of the things he loved so much about you - he didn’t have to be good with words, because you already know what he’s going to say.

He jumps slightly as your hands reach for his face, directing it at yours. His eyes still won’t meet yours, and you sigh.

“What’ll it take for my handsome boyfriend to look me in the eye, huh?” you croon sweetly. He can see the pout forming on your lips and the glint behind your eyes without even having to look. And he’s sure that you can feel the flush of his skin under your hands as blood rushes straight to his cheeks. It didn’t take much for you to fluster him, even now.

“Mammon.”

“...MC,” he conceded, allowing himself a peek at you. 

That was his first mistake. You were looking at him with such admiration, as if he had hung the moon and all the stars in the sky, and he didn’t know how to handle it. Why did you love him?

“Why do I love you? Why wouldn’t I love you?” You could tell he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but you pushed on before he could get a word in. “You’re kind, and you’re so sweet to me, and you care about your family above anything else, and-”

“That’s not true,” he murmurs, watery eyes looking away from yours once again. “They think I’m mean, and annoying, and that I’m making you unhappy-”

“Oh, baby,” you coo, thumbing gently at his cheek. “Do I need to remind you just how perfect you are for me? My perfect boy.”

He flushes, stammering as you lead him back to his bed. There’s a noticeable dent from where he laid, unmoving, earlier, but you ignore it. Instead, you gently guide him to lay down on his back, and sit to straddle his hips. 

“I don’t know what’s got you all in your head,” you say, leaning down to hover your mouth just above his. “But I’m going to remind you just how good you are, okay?”

Before he can stammer out an “okay” of his own, your lips are crashing against his. There’s a sort of desperation behind your movements, and it has blood rushing down to his cock prematurely. He can’t help it, not when you’re straddling his hips and kissing him like your life depends on it. His hips buck when your tongue pushes into his mouth, and his shaky hands move to grasp at any part of you he can grab. They land on the plush of your hips, trying to guide you to grind down onto his already aching cock. You pull away at this, and he whines, a genuine sort of hurt hiding in the depths of his eyes.

“Baby, baby, look at me,” you murmur, cupping his cheek. “This is about you but that doesn’t mean you can break the rules. We go at my pace, okay?”

“S-sorry,” he hiccups, tears filling his waterline. “Sorry, I’ll be good for you, I’m sorry, I’ll be a good puppy, so please, don’t hate me!”

“Hate you? Honey, why would I hate you?”

You’re appalled that he would even think so lowly of you. Hate him? He didn’t show up to one dinner and you had about lost your mind! He had always been the sun - so bright and beautiful and charming - and you had just been lucky enough to have been pulled into his orbit. You didn’t hate him - hell, you revered him.

“T-that’s what they-hic-were sayin’,” he sobbed, the tears now at full force, “That I make you unhappy and that I don’t treat you right and and and-”

You interrupt again before he can spiral any further, squishing his cheeks between your fingers in an attempt to get him to slow down. 

“But did I say that baby? Did I tell you any of those things?”

He shakes his head gently, but the babbling doesn’t stop. He’s refusing to make eye contact again, and you frown, mad at yourself for not seeing the problem sooner. He had no reason to be insecure, he was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you were just going to have to remind him of that.

“Silly Mammon,” you say, leaning down to leave a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “Does my little puppy need another reminder of just how much I love him?”

His head bobbles in a frantic yes, eyes finally finding yours again. There’s something feral sparkling in your eyes, but before he can comprehend it you’re slamming your lips back on his, your hands running down his pants to paw at his bulge. You toy with his belt a bit and he whines into your mouth, hips shifting under you in an attempt to get you to hurry up. 

You pull away, thumbing gently at his cheek. “Use your words, puppy. What do you need?”

“W-whatever you want,” he pants, his glazed over eyes struggling to meet yours. “Anything you want, please, wan’ you!”

You try to remain composed, but you can’t help the desperate shake of your hands as you fumble with his belt. You slip off of his lap, tapping his hip gently with your pointer finger as you shift off him. He lifts them for you without a word, eyes watching intently as you guide his pants and underwear off in one swift motion. You can’t help the grin from spreading across your face when his cock slaps against his abdomen. His tip is an angry red, almost purple, and fat globs of pre-cum run down the side of his cock.

“Aw, puppy, you’re already soaking for me, aren’t you? Sweet thing,” you coo, eyes never leaving his cock. “I’m going to ruin you.”

He doesn’t get more warning than that before you’re swooping down, tongue running up the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock. Your hands find his inner thighs and they twitch under your touch, trying to close around you as you slide between them. His hands scramble for purchase in the sheets as your head bobs down his length, taking him into your mouth. Another spurt of pre-cum dribbles out of his cock, and you suck it up, greedy, intent on making him fall apart under you.

“M-MC,” he stutters out between moans. “Master, please, I c-can’t take it! F-feels sho guh-good!”

You hum around him, sending vibrations coursing through him. One glance up at him and you know he’s already gone - eyes teary and glazed, hair messy, and one of his hands frantically fumbling to play with his nipple. You swirl your tongue around his leaking head and give one final bob downwards before he loses control of his hips and bucks into your mouth, painting your throat white with cum. You nurse him gently through it, suckling until his hips twitch with overstimulation. Pulling off him with a pop!, you give Mammon a lazy grin, rubbing gentle circles into his thigh with your thumb.

“Feeling better, puppy?” You murmur, kissing your way up to his mouth until you’re eye to eye, once again straddling the meat of his thighs.

He nods, and you frown down at him, unimpressed. 

“Words, pup.”

“Yeah,” he says,  dazed. “T-thank you, master, made me feel so good.”

“Good puppy,” you murmur, pecking his cheek. “Because I’m not done with you.”

He blinks up at you in surprise, and you spit on your hand, grasping at his softening cock. He winces at the contact on his sensitive cock, hands weakly moving to stop you. You grab at his wrist, giving him a warning look.

“You were doing so perfect for me, pup, what happened?” You pout down at him, giving his cock a warning squeeze. “My pretty puppy, do you think you can give me one more? Just one more, I know you can be good, hm?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, I can be g-good, hnn! So good, master, the goodest!”

He drops his hands back to his side, letting you have your way with him. Despite his earlier protests, he hardens quickly at your ministrations, tip already leaking at your touch. You lean down and press a gentle kiss to his mouth, eating up the little whimpers slipping from his maw. Once he’s sufficiently leaking all over your hand, you shift your weight, tapping his cheek to get his attention. 

“Ready, puppy?”

He blinks up at you in confusion, mouth opening to question you, but you line his cock up with your entrance and slide down, and his mouth forms a little oh instead. You flinch at the stretch, but any sort of pain quickly blurs into pleasure as you guide his tip to kiss that gooey spot inside of you. Your eyes want to flutter shut but you refuse to let them, instead basking in the drunken look on Mammon’s face. He’s clearly edging on the border of painful overstimulation and thoughtless pleasure, and when you clench around him just right, there might just be hearts in his eyes. 

“F-fuck, puppy, stretching me so good, aren’t you? Can feel you-unh!-all the way u-up here, baby.”

Your hand moves to your lower abdomen, eyes mean as you tap right where you feel him. He watches you with utter reverence, unable to look away as your pace picks up, hips rolling in a steady pattern. 

“So wet, aren’t you, puppy?” you pant, tightening your jaw to keep the moans from spilling out. “Absolutely gushing for me, gonna squirt for me like a girl?”

He opens his mouth to respond, and you slap a hand over his mouth. “Puppies don’t talk, remember? Or did I already fuck my puppy dumb?”

Your condescending tone has his eyes rolling back and his tongue lolling out, and you catch it, rolling it between your thumb and your forefinger. He’s drooling everywhere, little unh unh unh!s and masther!s slipping from his mouth. You tug on his tongue a bit, and you look him right in the eye as you spit into his mouth and let him choke on it a bit. When his eyes start to roll again, you let go, and watch him greedily swallow the mix of your spits.

“Say thank you, puppy.”

“W-woof!” he responds, and you give him a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss in return.

“Good boy, remembering my rules. How about you play with your pretty nipples as a reward, hm? And then maybe I’ll think about letting you cum.”

His head bobbles as he nods, hands messily sliding up to toy with his nipples. He rolls them between his fingers, tugging, and you see his abdomen tense as he holds back from bucking up into your soft, wet heat.

You’re not doing much better, and when his tip kisses that sweet spot inside you again, you feel yourself start to unwind. You lose your pace, desperately chasing your high as your insides spasm around him.

“C-come undone with me puppy, c’mon, won’t you-ahn!-be good for me? My best boy. You c-can cum, fuck fuck fuck! Cum.”

At your command, he lets go, filling your insides with his warm cum. You shake around him, prying your heavy eyes open to look at the blissed out expression on his face. His cheeks are streaked with dried tears and drool, and the most delicious flush spreads all the way down his chest. You run a hand through his matted hair as he comes down from his second orgasm of the night, extremely pleased with how he wearily blinks at you, eyes unfocused. 

You wince as you pull off of him, and his cum weakly dribbles out of your entrance. You roll over to lay next to him, making sure to slip your hand into his. 

You’re both absolutely disgusting - smelling of sex and covered in the evidence - but you bring his hand to your face anyways, gently kissing his knuckles.

“You know I love you more than anything, right?” You say, almost so quietly he misses it, “I hate that even for a second you doubted that.”

He tries to stop the feeling bubbling to his chest, but it’s hard to ignore when you nuzzle your face into his neck. He’s never really had the luxury to love like this, since he’s fallen to the Devildom, and it fills him with an inexplicable warmth. He rolls to face you, and he stiffens as your eyes find his.

“‘m sorry I made you worry,” he says, slinging an arm over you and pulling you closer. “I just…I’m not the best person, y’know? So I figured you finally saw that.”

You nip at the juncture when his neck meets his shoulder and he yelps.

“Don’t talk about my boyfriend like that. He’s the kindest, most loving, most exciting person to be around, and I’m the one who’s lucky to have him.”

The fierceness in your gaze catches him by surprise - why would you care so much? Sure, he’s the Great Mammon, but under all of his pizazz, he was just a boring, regular demon. Lucifer is influential, Leviathan is passionate, Satan is smart, Asmo is beautiful, Beel is strong, and Belphie (despite his brat behavior) is soft and sweet. But he didn’t bring anything to the table, not like they did.

“Stop that,” you say, louder this time. 

“Get out of your head and look at me. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. You’re not annoying, and your brothers don’t know how much you do for them when they’re not looking. You’re an amazing brother, and the perfect partner. I love you, okay? I love you so much, my Mammon.”

“I love ya too, MC. Thank you for remindin’ me,” he huffs out, embarrassed at the tears springing to his eyes again.

He sniffles, hiding his head into your hair and pulling you closer. You hold him just as tight, and he drifts off in your arms, the tension of the day slipping away in your embrace.

– – –

“Do you think Mammon is okay?”

Lucifer glances up from his place at his desk, glasses crooked and face a little flushed. He tries his best to subtly adjust himself, and rubs at his temples, exasperated. Sometimes, being aware of everything happening in the house was more of a curse than a blessing. Your voice as you cooed at his brother was going to stick with him for eons to come.

“I can assure you, Leviathan, he is more than okay.”

Word Count: 3897

[archangeldyke-all]

i’ve read all of your “little fucker + twins” pieces and they’ve done WONDERS to my baby fever recently 😭🩷 i couldn’t love this little family more. sevika is such a cute mommy

i have one request i wanna ask pretty please! i’d love to see how reader and sevika put the kids to bed. everyone’s little rituals as they prepare themselves and the children for bedtime 🥺love your stuff!!!

CUTE CUTE CUTEEE

men and minors dni

it's the first warm night of the season, the sun finally up past six pm, so you let the girls stay outside playing much later than you usually would.

their games range from 'house' to 'civil war'; endlessly entertaining for you and your wife to watch from the porch where you sneakily share a joint.

"look. shithead's starting a revolution." you nod to where your four-year old is leading a charge of stuffed animals in a wagon toward her sisters. sevika snorts.

"we need to get them fed and bathed and in bed. they've got school tomorrow." sevika says. you laugh and shake your head.

"you just wanna get them to sleep so we can watch that horror movie you've been talking about."

"maybe... or maybe i want you all to myself for a few hours before bed." she says with a salacious wink. you roll your eyes. you know her well enough to know when she's lying through her teeth.

"don't make promises you don't intend to keep sevika. c'mon, you wrangle the girls, i'll get dinner started."

before you had children, you would put on a record when you were in the kitchen, swaying back and forth to the music, occasionally humming along.

but now, you have something much better to listen to: the sounds of your girls squealing from the bathtub at your wife's antics.

you find yourself laughing along to the belly laughs and cackles, both from your kids and sevika. you don't know what they're getting up to, and you dread to see the state of your bathroom; but you're still grinning by the time three sets of stumbling footsteps come storming toward the kitchen.

there they are, your girls, squeaky clean and each wearing one of sevika's old t-shirts as their pajamas.

"what's for dinner ma?" little fucker asks.

before you can answer, sevika comes walking in, soaked from head to toe, a cringe on her face and bubbles from the bath in her hair. you snort.

"what happened to you?"

"we had three fuckin' kids is what happened."

you pull your wife in for a kiss, and stinkybutt and shithead squeal.

"yucky!"

"moms stop!"

"aweee!" little fucker coos.

sevika pulls away with a dreamy smile, shooting a wink at you. you giggle.

dinner is a cacophony of laughter and jokes, and by the time it's over, the kitchen is wrecked.

"i'll give you five bucks if you do the dishes for me tonight." you groan to sevika. she smiles at you.

"you tired?" she asks. you nod with a pout. sevika leans forward to kiss you sweetly. "go put 'em to bed, then take a nice long shower for yourself, okay?"

"you tellin' me i stink?"

sevika giggles. "no. i'm tellin' you i'll meet you in the shower." she says with a wink. you giggle.

"i love you."

"i love you too. we're still watching my movie tonight, y'know." sevika whispers. you huff and roll your eyes, then smack sevika's ass as you walk toward the girls' room.

it takes three books, and two stories about mommy sevika fighting bears and dragons; but eventually the girls are all snoring.

sevika does indeed meet you in the shower.

and afterward, even though your bones feel like jelly and you're tired to the core, you cuddle up on the couch with your wife to watch some corny slasher.

you don't even make it to the first kill before you're sleeping on her shoulder.

and when you wake up again, it's to sevika gently scooping you up to carry you to bed.

"love you." you mumble, nuzzling against her neck.

sevika sets you in bed and lays beside you, curling around you and pulling the blankets up. "i love you too, my love."

"was the movie spooky?"

sevika snorts. "so spooky."

"mmm. y' can cuddle me if you have nightmares." you offer as you drift back to sleep.

the last thing you hear is sevika's gentle laughter.

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3 @lesbones

@chezze-its @lez-zuha @vikashoneybee

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

[psychwhor]

teacher bf teacher bf teacher bf !!!!!

no matter how hard i try in this class i just keep failing :( i study for hours every night but i guess i just don't understand the material. but my teacher offered to help me! hes so sweet and he tutors me after school and im so relieved to have a support figure in my life that i ignore when he touches me weird and stares at me. until one day he tells me to come over to his house for tutoring instead of meeting in his office and suddenly im sitting on his couch with my homework on the table in front of me and his hand around my waist, resting slightly on top of my upper thigh. he tells me that hes gonna help me with memorization and takes my flashcards, telling me about a game he plays with students to help them retain memory. i get a little confused when he makes me close my eyes and maneuvers me into a more vulnerable position but i go along with it because i really need this grade. the minute his fingers touch my cunt over my underwear my mind goes blank. i whine and open my eyes, confused about what hes doing as he asks the first question. i stutter and try to remember whats going on as he pushes my panties away and shoves a finger inside me. i moan and then catch myself and gasp as i struggle to realize whats actually happening. 

"whats the answer huh? cmon we went over this i know you remember it somewhere."

he starts to slowly move his finger in and out of me as i whimper.

stopp it i dont knowww this is so weird and wrong stop touching me !!!

"ill stop once you tell me the answer. thats how this works."

and he keeps fingering me while i get more and more braindead do my best to babble different answers but i cant even remember the question anymore, much less the answer. one finger turns into two turns into his dick while my soft protests turn into moans and whimpers. he fucks me there on the couch, where he told me he'd help me understand my schoolwork but now spits insults into my ear about how im just a stupid whore and if i wanted better grades i should have just asked for his dick in the first place. he tells me all about how if this gets out he can ruin my academic record and my life will be over so my only option is to become his personal toy if i want to pass this grade.

[schlattslambo]

Not sure if you’re doing only smut, or a mix of fluff and smut, but maybe a fic where schlatt and reader have soft and sweet sex? Like maybe the reader is stressed about everything happening in their life and schlatt offers some comfort, which leads into soft sex. K thanks 🙏

a/n: ok i may have gone a bit overboard with this one oopsie, but i really hope you like it!!

—————————-

The house is quiet. For the most part. Your boyfriend isn’t yelling at his computer - mainly because he’s out of the house running some errands, the TV is off, and the cats aren’t chasing each other around the house and breaking things. The only sounds are a record player playing classical music in the sitting room and your breathing. It’s a beautiful fall afternoon, and you had just finished baking some cookies. It should be a relaxing day, but it isn’t. Despite the semi-quiet house, you can’t stop your racing thoughts.

You have so much that you could be doing, but you aren’t even sure where to start. You have projects that you need to finish, a few work emails to send, and you’re in charge of planning a trip abroad with some friends. All of this plus juggling your secret relationship. Schlatt is a very caring person, despite the persona that he displays online. He notices every slight change in your mood and can pick up on things that you don’t even pick up on yourself. And you don’t really care that your relationship is secret; it’s for the best.

But that does little to stop those thoughts. Things that you can be doing better, things that aren’t finished but need to be reworked. All of these things that need your attention. So, you decide to grab your laptop from upstairs and do some work in the sitting room. You curl up on the chair with a mug of your favorite tea and get to work. Your fingers are like a blur as you type on the keyboard, so engrossed in your work that you don’t even hear the door open.

“Honey, I’m home!” Schlatt calls, just as he always does when he comes home to you.

When you don’t answer right away, he figures that you’re in the bathroom or something. He calls your name, but still no answer. Okay, he thinks, no big deal, you probably have your headphones in. Then he spots the freshly baked cookies that are cooling on the counter. Shoving one in his mouth, he continues his search for you.

When he finds you, you’re hunched over your computer, eyes darting across the screen. Your work emails have been sent and the projects are at a point where they can be put on hold for the evening. Now, you’re stressing about hotel deals in the Netherlands. You’d already sent along a quote to your friends for the hotel in Dublin, so you just had to find three other hotels after the one in the Netherlands. You scribble down some information before a large hand is on your shoulder. You jump, but relax when you notice Schlatt standing there.

“What’re you doing, toots?” He asks, chewing on another cookie. “Great cookies by the way.”

“I’m trying to figure out what hotel to stay at when me and the girls go to Europe.” You grumble, tapping away at the keyboard. “I still have to find three more hotels after I get a quote from this one.”

Schlatt looks down at you with a smile. You’re always working so hard, and he loves that about you. One of his favorite things is your work ethic. You always manage to continue working no matter what happens. It also happens to be one of your biggest faults.

“Baby, you really need to listen to your own advice.” Schlatt says, running a hand through your hair. “What do you always say to me?”

“That you’re an idiot?” You ask, looking up with a smile.

Schlatt acts offended, placing a hand over his heart. “No,” He gasps. “Well, yes, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make! You always tell me to pace myself when I work. And it doesn’t look like you’re doing much of that.”

“I don’t have time to pace myself.” You counter. “We leave in six months. I have to get these hotels booked or else we’re going to spend a fortune.”

You turn back to your computer and Schlatt sighs softly. Looks like he’s going to have to do this the hard way.

“C’mon, (y/n),” He says, putting his hands on his hips. “Save your progress.”

He rarely uses your first name, but when he does, you know he’s serious about something. You quickly bookmark the page and close the laptop, peering up at him. Without a word, he scoops you up princess style.

“Hey!” You yelp. “Where are you taking me?”

Schlatt says nothing but walks you to his room. He softly kicks the door closed behind him and plops you on the bed. You look at him and cross your arms on your chest.

“Jay, I really-” Your cut off by his soft lips pressing against yours.

“Honeybun,” He says, using one of your favorite nicknames. “Let me help you relax, m’kay?”

His kisses trail down the side of your neck and all of your thoughts melt into a puddle that now pools in your belly and starts to warm. You nod against him but he pulls back.

“Words, baby.” He says sweetly.

“Yes, please.” You whisper.

“Such good manners.” Schlatt replies, attaching his lips to your collarbone while toying with the hem of your shirt. “Let’s get this off, hm?”

The two of you slip your shirt off together and Schlatt continues kissing you, pressing his lips further down to your chest. He pushes your bra down, then takes a nipple into his mouth. You shudder at the contact, goosebumps blossoming on your skin.

“Lay down, my love.” He whispers against your skin. “Let me take care of you.”

Without a word, you comply. You slip your bra off yourself as Schlatt kisses down your torso and to your waist.

“May I?” He asks, hooking his thumbs into your belt loops.

At your nod, your pants slowly come down, warm kisses pressed to your hips and thighs. His touch is so gentle and sweet that you think you may cry. When your pants come off, Schlatt looks up at you with a smile.

“God,” He breathes. “You’re the most beautiful thing in the entire world. How the fuck did I get so lucky?”

Schlatt expresses his gratitude for you ‘choosing to love him’ all the time, but somehow, this feels different. More intimate. His lips press against your inner thigh, making you let out a soft gasp. He slowly slips off your panties, licking his lips. Once they’re off, he gently spreads your legs, his thick fingers exploring your folds.

“My pretty girl’s all wet,” He smiles, sliding a finger inside of you.

You mewl, arching your back. His thumb finds your clit and rubs slowly, and he watches you with a lovesick smile on his face. His cock grows harder at the sounds your making and how your pussy clenches on his finger every time he presses just a bit more on your clit.

“Can I fuck you, baby?” Schlatt’s voice comes out strained as you look at him.

You nod and his cock twitches in his pants. No matter how many times he gets to fuck you, his cock always twitches at the idea. You’ve been dating for around a year and a half, and he gets giddy inside whenever he gets to be this close to you.

“How do you want me?” You ask.

“Missionary.” Schlatt says with a smile. “I want to watch your beautiful face.”

You adjust on the bed as Schlatt finds a condom, resting your head on the many pillows that litter his bed. Just like Jambo has his little feather collection under the couch, Schlatt has a pillow collection on his bed.

He climbs up, smiling at you with such love that your heart does a little flutter. Kisses are pressed up against your ankle, all the way up to your face. Schlatt presses his cock against your entrance, pausing to intertwine your fingers together as his forehead rests against yours.

“I love you so much.” He whispers, slowly entering you. “My beautiful, beautiful baby.”

“I love you too.” You gasp.

His movements are vastly different from when you two usually have sex. He’s usually sporadic and quick with sloppy thrusts and a grip that bruises. This time, he’s holding you so gently that he’s scared he might break you. His thrusts are slow, but have just enough force to them to make your eyes roll back. As Schlatt’s lips attach to your neck again, you let out a moan.

“That’s it,” He praises against you. “Let it out for me. You’re taking me so well, babydoll.”

Schlatt pulls back to look at you, and your eyes meet his. The way you look up at him makes him nearly burst. He continues to go slow, but his orgasm is approaching rapidly. He never cums first, so he needs to stop.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby.” He breathes with a smile. “You’re gonna make me finish too quick. This is about you tonight.”

You smile and sink your teeth into your bottom lip. Schlatt lets go of your hands and reaches down to rub your clit. This allows you to pull him closer and kiss him. The kiss is passionate, slow and intimate. It’s intensified by the shocks of pleasure coming from your clit. Schlatt adds more pressure, making you break the kiss.

“F-Fuck,” You whimper. “I’m close.”

“Yeah?” Schlatt asks with a smile. “You wanna cum for me?”

You nod and moan, looking up at him with those pretty eyes. He rubs your clit in circles and uses the other hand to gently caress your chest. The small action sends you over the edge. You grip Schlatt by the back of the neck and pull him down, your moans muffled by another kiss. He thrusts as you cum, chasing his own orgasm. Only a few thrusts later, he’s cumming as well, groaning into your mouth.

As Schlatt comes down from his high, you look at him with half-lidded eyes and a soft smile. He quickly disposes of the condom and cleans himself up, coming back to bed and scooping you into his arms.

“You’ve been working so hard lately.” He says as he runs a hand through your hair. “I’m so, so proud of you. You make me and the boys so happy. I love you so much.”

You smile and lean into his touch. “Thank you,” You whisper. “I really needed this.

Schlatt presses a kiss to your forehead and snuggles you until the two of you drift off to sleep. You don’t mean to take a nap in the middle of the day, but you also didn’t expect to make love at 3pm either. But as you drift off to sleep in Schlatt’s arms, those racing thoughts are gone. The only thoughts that remain are how lucky you feel to have someone so thoughtful in your life.

[pineconepie]

parental yandere guardian angel perhaps?? 👀

TW: Violence, infantilization, mentioned stalking(?), parental yandere, alcohol, attempted mugging

...

You drag out a long sigh, not bothering to look the presence you know is next to you in the eye. For days he's been following you around like some puppy looking for attention, and you're more than tired of it.

"I do not like these bars," Seradiel murmurs. "There's all sorts of harmful people around. Are you trying to make my job harder?"

"A pointless job, might I add," you chuckle humorlessly. "You don't need to watch after me like I'm some baby. And for the record, you don't need to be sitting next to me 24/7, either."

At first, you thought Seradiel was crazy when he claimed to be your guardian angel, but ever since you nearly got ran over from not looking both ways on the street, the dude had been following you everywhere like some sort of shadow.

He said he had been guarding over you ever since you were a newborn, but decided to make his presence known ever since that incident.

He would appear out of nowhere in your house while you were sleeping and making sure you're breathing right, or follow you on walks, protecting you from any potential danger.

Seradiel's frown deepens. "Either way, you won't approve. If I watch you from afar, you claim that's creepy; but if I make myself known, you get annoyed."

You give Seradiel a pointed look. "That's because most people don't have an angel follow them around all the time."

He shakes his head. "That isn't true. Everyone has an angel. Some are just less dedicated than I am."

A groan escapes you. What kind of excuse is that?

You wave him off. "Can you at least, I don't know, sit at another table? The waiters keep looking our way since they can't see you and probably think I'm talking to myself like a crazy person."

"No, they can see me. I just don't have wings in anyone else's vision," he claims. "They're probably giving funny looks because of our conversation."

"Whatever," you mutter under your breath. "Why are you so dedicated, as you claim?"

He ruffles your hair. "Because you're like my baby. Sure, you may have biological parents, but even they don't share the same kind of connection with you as I do. After all, I've been watching over you ever since your first moments of life. I've spent more time with you than anyone else on this Earth has. And you were such a sweet child. Sometimes I wonder if you miss those days as much as I do."

"Not at all," you mutter, even though that isn't true at all. "So you just watched me my whole life?"

"Of course. Therefore, you are essentially like my child. And no good parent would allow their child to wander around such a sketchy establishment like this." He motions towards the dimly lit, rather unimpressive bar.

"Any good parent would let their adult child do what they please, because they're an adult." You take another sip from your cup. The liquid burns your throat going down, and you almost immediately feel drowsier and more light-headed. Seradiel yanks the cup away from you. "Hey! What the hell, I paid for that!" You reach for it back.

"You've had too much already," he scolds. "Now let's leave." He grabs your hand and leads you out. With you stumbling after him, you finally make it onto the street outside and head home.

The walk is silent other than your occasional hiccup. But every few minutes, Seradiel makes sure you're still lucid.

"Just leave me alone," you whine. "Please. I want just a minute of independence, I can't do anything without you hovering over me! Is that too much to ask?"

Seradiel's eyes narrow. "Is that so?" Without warning, he lets go of your hand. "Fine. If you'd like to be a brat, we can play your game."

He disappears in an instant. Despite the fact that you were begging for him to stop being so clingy, you find yourself strangely unsettled at his departure, as if something's missing.

Nonetheless, you decide to ignore it; he'll come back eventually.

You continue your drunken stumble back home.

However, you barely make it another block before you hear the sound of footsteps behind you.

Normally you would've ignored it, but combined with how late it was and how sketchy the bar itself was, you pick up your pace. Whoever was behind you speeds up also.

Now more than nervous, you start running, not caring about how lightheaded you felt and how awful your body ached.

Whoever was following you started running after you now, and in the dead silence of night you can hear their rapid steps thumping against the ground.

Their heavy breathing rings through the air, and your heart drops when you realize they were gaining on you.

Before you knew it, a firm hand wrapped around your arm, yanking you to a stop.

The person has a knife, dressed in all black clothing, looking eerily similar to someone who was ready to commit murder.

"Empty your wallet now," he hisses. "And don't make any noise. If you try to scream, I'll cut off your fucking tongue."

You scramble to empty your wallet. There isn't much money in there, which just pisses him off.

"That's it? That can't be all you have," he snarls. He backhands you in anger, causing you to stumble back. You rub your face where he struck you, crawling backwards as he rummages through your things himself. However, he only finds a couple pieces of gum. He looks even more angered by this outcome, reaching for his knife again.

"Seradiel!" you cry out, shutting your eyes tight. "I'm sorry! Please help me!"

Suddenly, there's a gust of wind. Your eyes fly open, and in front of you is none other than Seradiel. He stands tall, looming over your mugger with his white wings stretching out like a curtain to conceal you. His golden hair shines in the moonlight. Although usually calm, his demeanor has completely changed.

His eyes are now slit into furious daggers glaring straight ahead at your mugger.

"What the hell..." the man mutters.

With no words, Seradiel reaches forward and grabs the assailant by the neck, throwing him across the road and into a wall like the assailant is merely paper trash.

Seradiel begins to stalk towards the mugger, who's coughing violently from the impact. "I usually hold empathy for criminals like yourself; just trying to survive. But then you decided to try and hurt my child," Seradiel growls. You've never seen such fury radiating from his usually calm appearance. He looks more than capable of murdering the mugger then and there.

The assailant scrambles backwards, attempting to stand. Unfortunately for him, before he can rise Seradiel is upon him again. The angel knocks the mugger off their feet and kicks them, sending them flying backwards.

He grabs the knife he dropped, twirling it between his fingers.

"Hmm. Should I kill him?" Seradiel asks, turning towards you. He doesn't even look remorseful. On the contrary, he looks emotionless; he doesn't care if the criminal lives or dies. It was like he was asking you to pass him salt on the dinner table.

"No," you whisper. "Please don't. I just want to go home. Let's just go home, please."

"Alright. As long as he apologizes." He turns back to the assailant. "Well?"

The attacker sobs and nods. "Okay! Okay, I'm sorry! I'll never do it again!"

"And give them back their belongings," Seradiel adds.

The mugger obliges and hands all your belongings back to the angel. Once Seradiel steps aside, he scrambles away until you can't see him anymore.

He turns to face you again, his expression immediately softening. You instinctively take a step back. Seeing him switch demeanors so quickly is shocking.

"My love," Seradiel murmurs softly. "I told you it wasn't safe here. Are you okay?" He approaches you cautiously. He takes out his handkerchief to dab the bleeding scratch on your cheek. Then he inspects you, making sure you haven't sustained any other injuries. "See what happens when you walk alone? This is why I need to watch over you at all times. Does that not make sense to you yet?"

He puts his arms underneath your legs and back, picking you up. You bury your face in his robes.

"I don't like bars," you mumble quietly. "I promise I won't go to another one."

"Not just bars. Everywhere is dangerous. It's a good thing I'm your guardian angel; the world would eat you alive otherwise," he mumbles. "Oh, little lamb. What will Papa do with you?" He kisses the top of your head while carrying you.

It's not the first time he's referred to himself as that word. Papa.

In some ways, it makes sense; he does act very fatherly and treats you like his baby.

Still, you have mixed feelings about him. You still can't wipe the vision from your mind of him brutally beating up your mugger just minutes ago.

"Aren't angels against violence?" you rasp.

He shakes his head. "Not in cases such as those. Angels protect others. Most just happen to use violence as the last resort. And I will always protect my children."

"How many children do you have?"

"You're the only one," Seradiel coos. "And trust me, I love you very much. I hope this was a valuable lesson for you."

You fall into silence once again, clutching his robes.

When you finally arrive home, he opens the door for you. "Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"...thank you, for protecting me," you mutter under your breath.

He gives you a smile, but it's far from gentle. No, it looks almost... proud, victorious. "Of course. Just remember that I'll always be here to keep you safe."

[milksuu]

Sorry, Mom. I'm The New Cleaning Lady For Heartsteel

Pairings: various!Heartsteel x f!reader

Status: on-going (Cross posted on AO3)

Content/Warnings: 18+ content, explicit themes, suggestive language

Summary: Identity theft was a crime—that was obvious. But when it meant paying off the bills for basically existing and your mother’s hospital expenses, committing a felony didn’t seem like a bad thing. It was like that one quote, from that one band, with that one hit song: “Two sides to a story but they never tell me side.”

Or…something like that. Wait, what was their name again? Heartsteel? Sounds like a dating sim game.

[Reader takes the identity of her mother, who had been hired to be the new cleaning lady for an up and coming boy band named ‘Heartsteel’. Obviously, there’s no way they would ever find out. But that was a joke. Because they’re definitely finding out: one by one.]

“You…brought your own cleaning supplies?”

“You always need to be prepared, young man,” you replied, adjusting your duck-yellow cleaning gloves. They squeeked and flopped comically around your hand and fingers. 

“Ma’am, you do understand today is solely the house tour.” The man folded his arms neatly against his chest, white brow raised. “In order to rely on you fully, you’ll need to be familiar with the estate first. I thought we discussed this beforehand. That and…we have cleaning supplies to provide you with here.”

You paused at the grand modern entrance. You lifted your bucket full of sponges, brushes, and cleaning spray from the dollar store. 'Buy-one-get-one' on all cleaning supplies was the grand deal of the day. How could you pass a penny-pinching bargain? Swallowing your shame, you settled the cheap items on the pristine granite floors. 

“Oh, is that so? Must’ve slipped my mind. Age will do that to you.” You forced a chuckle, adjusting your sterile mask across your youthful face. “That and, I have such a passion for cleaning. I can't help myself. I see the inside of a house, and I just have to clean it. I’m sure you could understand that.”

“I don’t believe I could,” your employer said dryly. “Anyway, if you will, follow me.”

You nodded and shuffled along accordingly. As you stared into the back of his immaculately pressed business attire, a new-found horror struck through you: you had no clue what your employer’s name was. Frantically, you scavenged your pockets. From it, you pulled out a business card, holding it so close to your face you smelled the tinge of clean cologne.

YONE

RIOT RECORDS

DJ / PRODUCER

 EMAIL: yone123@riotstudios.com

TELEPHONE:  XXX-XXX-XXXX

“The bottom floor consists of all of the amenities; gym, entertainment area, recording studio and so on.” Yone stated as he stepped into the open-kitchen plan. When he regarded you again, you awkwardly plunged the card back into your pants pocket. “The boys have their own scheduled chores every week. They’re expected to do it without you having to help them. I’m trying to keep them humble, but easier said than done. Refer to the chore calendar on the fridge. And try not to interfere with it too much.”

“Okay—who switched my protein powder with flour?” Behind an opened cabinet, a heavy-muscled stacked man growled. “Guys. Seriously. This stuff’s expensive. Where’d it go?” When he poured the contents out into the trash can, he plucked out a note from the bottom of the canister. The small print read:

‘Protein powder tastes like dog food.’’

The weight of realization punched him square between the eyes. He threw open the pantry, where dog kibble was stored in a tub at the bottom marked ‘Ernest’. Sett pulled open the container, and sure enough, found his  protein powder and scooper. There was no mistaking his favorite smell of cinnamon crunch isolate, now mixed with the scent of dry-bacon kibble. Another note pasted the inside lid:

‘Woof–Woof ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ’

“A–phe–li–os,” the name gritted between his canines. His ears flattened against his untamed hair, and crumpled the note to dust in his palm. “Oh–Ho. Mess with me all you want; but never mess with my gains. I’m gonna’ prank him back so hard tonight, he’s gonna’ be begging me to stop.” 

“Sett,” Yone coughed, grabbing the Vistayan's attention. “We have a guest today. Our new cleaning lady.”

“Oh, sorry about that.” Sett wiped his powdered hand against his sleeveless shirt. He reached and took your rubber glove with a squelch. “Hey, how’s it goin’, Ma’am. The name’s Sett.” 

You swallowed hard, hoping your glove would remain securely covering your hand. You feared if he pulled back, he would reveal a hand that wasn't so wrinkled for someone supposedly in their late-fifties. And that was according to your mother’s age printed on her driver’s license. Thankfully, you could tell he restrained himself to a delicate shake.

“Would talk more but gotta hit the gym. Nice meetin’ yah though,'' Sett started away, and called back over his shoulder. “Mom, can you take care of Phel for me? I dunno' where he hid the dog food for Ernest.”

Yone exhaled a silent sigh, and part of you felt pity for your employer. He seemed like a parent with a tag-team of overbearing children running around the house. Being a single parent was difficult; you knew this first hand from your own up-bringing. It made you grateful for your mother’s patience and attention. It was the reason you were here in the first place. 

“Let’s continue with the tour upstairs,” Yone said, motioning you to a loft-style staircase. “The second floor consists of all the bedrooms and laundry room. At the end of the hall is my room. As it stands, it’s completely off limits to everyone, including yourself.” He turned a sharp chin in your direction, “Am I understood?”

You gulped and pressed your shoulders straight. “Of course.”

“Mommy, help me!” A bed of green hair bounced to Yone’s side, tugging at his tailored suit. “Kayn’s bullying me again. But I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.”

“You’re such a crappy liar.” The presumed assailant, Kayn, stomped out of the hallway bathroom. Magenta hair stuck to his furrowing brows. With just a towel wrapped around his steaming waist, his abdominal muscles tensed, pointing aggressively at his target. “I was trying to shower in peace, until bubblegum pop princess over here came barging in trying to take selfies of himself. Did you know people usually shower naked? I’d like my junk not to be posted on social media, unless I’m the one doing it. For cash.” 

“It’s not my fault you’re always going over your shower limit. News flash: we each only get fifteen-minutes. But you’re always breaking the rules! You know I take my selfies at the same time, at the same place, every single day. So how about you do us all a favor, and get some better time management?”

Kayn raised a vein popping fist into the air. “How about I get you a better face instead?"

Ezreal cried fake sparkling tears, cowering further behind their producer.

“Enough. The both of you,” Yone tightened around his words like a leash, restraining the quarreling pair. “For once, I’d like for you two to at least pretend you get along in front of others.” 

The two whined and grumbled under their breaths till they fell to a silent agreement. But the peace treaty wasn’t upheld for long. You saw a zap of yellow from the corner of your eye. The image was so fast, you thought you must’ve imagined it—Nope. You definitely saw something. Kayn’s towel knot popped loose. And it wasn’t caused by an event of divine intervention.

The towel billowed towards the ground. And the world felt as if it was turning in slow motion, like one of those car chase movies with excessive explosions. Except, the only explosion here would be your very own heart.

Sure, you took an anatomy class here and there. In high school, you remembered the penis joke’s and games, and they never flustered you. Heck, not even when your friends set your desktop screen to a .gif of dicks spinning in circles—you found that hilarious. And when anatomy classes began in college, they were all very clinical, rudimentary, and otherwise a snooze fest. 

But seeing one in real life when you’ve never had a boyfriend or a one night stand, was truly groundbreaking. Earth shattering, even.

Penis (en)counter: 1

While you were stuck in your prison of naïve embarrassment, Ezreal laughed and pulled out his cell phone, camera light shuttering a mile a minute. 

“You little shi—!” Time sped forward again. With fast reflexes of his own, Kayn whipped the towel and knot back in place. “That’s it. You’re dead.” 

“Uh–Oh. Time to run again,” Ezreal quipped, zooming off down the stairs.

With all bark and full bite, Kayn vanished like a cloud of smoke in pursuit. You coughed against the smog, while Yone merely swatted his hand back and forth, dissipating the gray wisps.

“You’ll have to excuse them,” he commented. “They share the same room, but have vastly different personalities. I arranged most of them together, thinking it’d help them understand each other on a deeper level. And ultimately, help them perform better together in the studio and on stage. My efforts are…yet to be determined.”

“That’s alright. Can’t be easy for young men their age to share anything. Especially with them being full of energy, testosterone, and other things. O-Oh, to be young once more…ah-ha…” you laughed nervously. Oh, God. What the heck were you saying? Honestly, you had to give pardon to yourself. You were still trying to recover from seeing your first penis up close and personal.

The image would be forever burned in your mind.

You were pulled from your self-conscious thoughts. Down the hall, a pair of shadowed eyes peeked through a sliver of door and frame. When your gaze locked together, the other pair of eyes shifted shyly from side to side. As if a poltergeist existed within the room, the visage faded back into the uncanny crack of darkness. The door creaked closed, with an audible click and lock.

Yone pursued straight to the door, and you stood a few paces back. If there was any chance that a ghost was inside living rent-free, you wouldn't be the first it possessed. You weren't a certified Ghostbuster.

But you also weren't a certified Dustbuster, either. No one will know, know one will know, you chanted the comforting hymn. 

“Aphelios. Open the door. I know you’re in there. I can see the computer light flashing,” Yone stated, rattling the door knob. “Where’s the kibble for the dog? Sett told me you have it somewhere.”

There was a beat in the air. From behind the door, you heard feet pacing back and forth, and the sounds of finger taps against a phone screen. Yone’s phone pinged with an alert. He pulled it out, and opened his text messages.

‘I can’t open the door all the way. I set the bucket of dog food to fall on Sett’s head when he comes in. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ’

“For the love of…no more pranks today." Yone pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. "But I doubt you could even manage that. Whatever trap you’ve ensembled, take it down—now. And put the dog’s food back in the pantry. Unless you want to donate a cut of your earnings every month to Ernest’s pet store bill.”

Another pause, followed by begrudging phone taps. 

‘Fine, m O T h E r…(¬_¬")’

“That might take him a few. Depending how intricate the set up was. I would be surprised if the only thing involved in this scheme was just the dog food.” Yone motioned you back down the stairs. “Last thing to see is the outdoor space.”

Continuing with the tour, you passed through the lower floor, stepping down a hallway decorated with awards and magazine clippings. From commercial modeling gigs to sold out venues, your eyes glistened at the polished look the group was slowly cultivating. Which you had to admit, completely contradicted their personal lives.

When you reached a sliding glass door that stretched from floor to ceiling, you stepped out onto a landscaped deck. Lush modern garden trims, a shaded outdoor lounge, and smooth sandstone pavement decorated the space. At the backend, an infinity pool rested in pristine stillness. 

At the head of the pool, a person of sculpted bronze physique posed in swimwear on a lounge chair. When you approached along with your chaperone, he picked up his tropical drink, and tilted it in a cheering gesture.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mama gracing me with his presence. And look's like someone else is with him, too.” The man basking in the sun's rays and oil slicked, shucked his sunglasses onto his dread locks. “Let me guess. This must be the new cleaning lady you hired to pick up after our mess.”

“To a certain degree,” Yone replied. “But not all of the mess, K’Sante. Out of everyone, you should know better.”

“I only joke, Mama.” He grinned smoothly, taking a sip of his frozen alcoholic refresher. “Say, have you seen Sett? I told him to come join me for a tan by the pool. If he wants his muscles to truly pop, he needs to use some oil and not be allergic to the sun. The man is whiter than the sky is bright today.”

As he laughed to himself, Ernest left his chew toy at the far side of the pool, and came to sniff your shoes. With a smile, you slipped a very small piece of your long sleeve up, allowing him to sniff at your skin. The dog lapped his tongue around his slobbering chops, barking delightedly and pawing for you to pet him. You were more than happy to oblige.

These gloves came in handy after all, you thought pleasantly as globs of saliva fell in heaps over your fingers.

“What’s this? Ernest taking a liking to the cleaning lady already,” K’Sante mused at the sight. “Barely warmed up to us when we first met. We won’t mention the illegal trespassing but, call me impressed.” 

With a wink, he flicked his sunglasses back down to the bridge of his nose. “That or he has a ‘ting for older women. Can’t say I blame ‘em. An experienced woman has a certain power that’ll make any grown man cry. And from my own experience, it is never for mercy.”

Oh, boy. You couldn’t imagine your mother being interested in the cougar life-style. Not that you would approve of it. And you were certain your father would descend from the heavens and deliver the backhand of God to any young man who dared otherwise.

Before Yone could address the unsavory statement, Ezreal burst through the backyard sliding doors. Still possessed with laughter, he hopped and skipped over pool chairs and tables. The merriment stopped short when Kayn caught up to the cheeky idol, snatching his wrist which held the phone. From the staggering halt, the phone slipped from Ezreal’s hold, somersaulting towards the pool. 

“M-My phone!” Ezreal paled at the thought of losing thousands of stored photos of himself—Oh, and the blackmail photos he was going to use against Kayn, too. 

Yanking his wrist free, Ezreal pursued the device. But Ernest’s rubber hotdog toy squealed beneath him, forcing him off balance. Kayn latched an arm around Ezreal's slim waist, and pressed him safely against his bare chest.

He huffed against Ezreal's ear. “You can’t swim, you idiot. Remember? Just let it go.” 

Ernest barked at the surmounting commotion. Being the valiant guard dog with the perfect pedigree, he bounded on his thick paws to catch Kayn by the towel, with all the intent to keep them both from falling in. What a good boy! Unfortunately for Kayn, Ernest bit a bit more than he could chew.

Kayn’s voice bass boosted ten-octaves lower. “MY DAMN ASS!”

W-Whose voice was that? Was that even the same person? The thought rattled through you.

A chunk of Kayn's soft meat condensed in the jaws of a furry devil. A shock travelled up the nerves of his spine, into the the muscle fibers of his arm, shoving Ezreal forward. Ezreal flailed his hands in the air, desperate to find some semblance of balance—with no luck, at all. Fumbling on his tip-toes, Ezreal plummeted into the pool with a splash. Kayn stumbled from the after-shock of his spirit being bitten straight through his buttcheeks. His feet met the cursed rubber squeaker, sending him following suit into the pool. Except, the towel had its own plans. It decided to stay behind and not get involved.

Penis (en)counter: 2

“I heard some commotion, fellas. What’s goin’ on?” Sett stepped out from the sliding doors. He caught witness of Ezreal’s face treading water, gasping for bouts of air. Sett’s muscles popped at the sight, barreling towards the scene. “Don’t worry, Ez. I’m coming for yah, buddy!”

Sett launched himself into the air, preparing the most athletic Olympic dive ever conceived.

Kayn inhaled sharply as he broke through the water's surface tension. Recuperating his breaths, he slicked his wet hair back from his face. Looking down at the waters crystal reflection, an odd shadow grew in size around him. And according to the forecast earlier; there was no chance in Hell of clouds or rain. Lifting his nose to the darkening sky, he blanched in sheer horror. A body, massive enough to eclipse the sun, hurled down like a meteor descending to Earth.

What day was it today, Doomsday? He must've forgot; Kayn never bothered to look at calendar's, anyway.  

Back to the painful mistress that was his life; a weak, painful moan escaped him. “You can’t be serious. This isn’t the cool death I deserve—”

Those were Kayn’s final words. A wave rivaling a tsunami consumed him, a random pizza chair float, and the immediate surrounding pool area. Standing in the designated splash zone, pool water soaked your soles, leached into your socks, and dampened your pants to the knees. From K’Sante’s spot, a shot of chlorine or two spiked his drink. He snatched his sunglasses off and shouted the words; “This was the last bit of banana daiquiri mix, you aboas! Now I have to go down to the liquor store and hope they sell it frozen already.”

Yone, with all the grace anyone could hope to be blessed with, merely side-stepped away. A single speck landed on his polished shoes. He narrowed his steely eyes, flicking away the insignificant drop.

You caught something flashing on the second floor of the estate. Looking up, you shielded your eyes from the glaring sun. From one of the windows, you spotted someone holding up a sign. You assumed it was Aphelios. The poster read:

‘4/10 Ezreal. 6/10 Kayn. 10/10 Sett.’

With a dramatic burst through the water, Sett hurled Ezreal over his massive shoulder, and walked out of the pool. Placing Ezreal onto his soaking back, he coughed and gagged against the awful taste of treated water.

He smiled at his new-found savior. “Thanks, Sett. I’m fine, but what about Kayn…”

The group shifted their attention over the silent, lapping water. After a bubble or two, the sight of Kayn’s bare bottom surfaced to the top. Floating like a wet and rounded land-mass, with the additional landmark of a pink dog-bite. 

“Kayn! Hang in there, pal!” Sett launched himself once more into the water, creating another wave of soaking magnitude.

Although the drink had already been spoiled, K’Sante reflexively covered the top of his daiquiri glass. “For God’s sake, Sett. Take your time. It’s not like you’re saving the life of an innocent man.”

As chaos continued to ensue around the gang, Yone placed himself at your side. With a shake of his head, he crossed his arms, and sent a ghost of a smile your way.

“Welcome to Heartsteel,” he said. “Your first day starts tomorrow.” 

Looks like your identity was safe…for now, at least.

an: thanks for reading! the rest of the this story will most likely just be on my AO3. You can find me @ milksuu. comments and suggestions always welcomed. <3

[zeroseuniverse]

so i read your skz figuring out their partner got a singing voice and i ate it up, but what about rapping. like rap god, nissan altima type rap or if your feeling spunky denial is a river conversational rap shit. and like, the reader BODIES the song, bar for bar, literally knows it like they made the song themselves

obviously i 110% understand if you wouldn’t want to do this due to its repetitive nature with the singing prompt, but idk im js more into flowy rap music instead of belty songs and i was js pondering

Stray Kids Reacting to Their S/O Secretly Being an Insane Rapper

Bang Chan

Chan’s working on a beat in the studio, absentmindedly humming when you suddenly start rapping along to a song at full speed. He stops everything. The track is still playing, but he’s just staring at you, mouth slightly open. "Hold on. HOLD ON. Since when—HELLO?" He rewinds the beat, pointing at you. "Do it again. I need to confirm that wasn’t a fluke." Once you go off again, he’s convinced. Immediate producer mode activated. He’s already layering adlibs in his head. "We’re making a song. This is non-negotiable."

Lee Know

Minho’s driving when you absentmindedly start rapping, barely paying attention to how flawlessly you’re hitting every syllable. He, however, nearly forgets how to operate the vehicle. "You’re joking." He looks at you, then back at the road, then back at you, blinking in disbelief. "Am I dating a rapper and I didn’t know?" Plays it cool but is secretly so impressed that he’s replaying the song just to hear you go off again. Later, you catch him trying to match your flow when he thinks you're not listening.

Changbin

You’re both hyping each other up to a rap song when you suddenly go off—full speed, no stumbles, perfect delivery. Changbin, mid-rhyme, chokes on air. "WAIT. TIME OUT." He physically grabs your arm, eyes wide. "WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU COULD RAP LIKE THAT?!" Suddenly, he’s throwing instrumentals at you, demanding you try different beats. He’s hyping you up so hard, it’s basically a rap cypher now. "You and me? Rap duo. Think about it."

Hyunjin

Hyunjin’s scrolling on his phone when you casually spit a full-speed verse, no mistakes. He glances up slowly, eyebrows furrowed. "...Excuse me?" Then it clicks, and he gasps. "WHY WAS THAT SO HOT?!" Grabs his phone and immediately starts recording. He’s losing it, acting like he just discovered a hidden gem. "Can you do that again? Wait—say my name in the rap voice." This is now his favorite thing about you.

Han

Han’s rapping dramatically, adding sound effects and adlibs, when you suddenly match his energy and destroy the verse. He freezes mid-word, hands on his head. "YO, YO, YO—WHAT??" Looks personally offended, like you just out-rapped him in his own house. "Where did THAT come from?! Have you been hiding this?!" Forces you to do a rap battle immediately. He’s not even mad—just shook and so entertained. "We need a duo name. Right now."

Felix

Felix is driving peacefully, enjoying the music, when you start rapping perfectly—every word, every pause, every switch-up. He grips the wheel tighter. "...Huh?" Looks over at you, then back at the road, then back at you. "I think I just fell in love again." His deep laugh fills the car as he starts replaying the track just to hear you do it again. Now he needs you to rap every song you know.

Seungmin

Seungmin’s jamming along, vibing, when you suddenly annihilate a verse at high speed. He stops moving. Just stares. "……Interesting." When you finish, he raises a brow. "So, you’ve been sitting on this talent while I embarrass myself at karaoke?" Acts unimpressed, but later, you catch him playing that song again just to see if you’ll do it. And when you do? Smirks and nods. "Yeah. That’s my partner."

I.N

Jeongin’s messing around, rapping with exaggerated confidence, when you casually jump in and outperform him completely. He stops, hands gripping the wheel. "...No way." He’s laughing in shock, shaking his head. "YOU CAN RAP?! SINCE WHEN?!" Won’t let it go. Will bring it up at dinner. At practice. To the members. "Did you guys know my partner is a rapper? A WHOLE rapper?!"

[ronearoundblindly]

I am sorry but I'm going to need a Ransom story with this prompt. It can be RoaR or a one-off, he can love it or hate it in this space, he can see it over Reader's shoulder on the computer screen, your choice!

o.0 oh boi oh boi oh boi! Fall Vibes but it's gonna be my summer challenge submission to @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar, featuring the flavors Cookies and Cream (soulmates) and Rocky Road (rags to riches) with the topping Oreos (marriage of convenience (reluctantly)). Also my second entry for @stargazingfangirl18's Birthday Bonenanza, featuring a babe in love and cranky about it + "can you just...hold me please?"

For Show Ransom Drysdale x poor!soulmate!reader

Summary: Ransom hates that you--his soulmate and wife--are nothing like him.

Warnings for smut and Ran's a**hole brain (rude, nasty thoughts that he barely even believes). Classic Lexi--this is cheeky, y'all, but you know it's because I can't help myself... MINORS DNI. Find all-age friendly fic on my Light Masterlist. WC 2.1k

Ran didn’t believe in love to start, but this is fucking ridiculous. Opposites attract? Get wrecked, asshole. He’s keeping opposites on the other side of the house. It’s not far enough.

It’s standard practice for the confirmation of matching soulmarks to act as a de facto marriage contract—common law, if you like,—and Ransom Drysdale fought tooth and nail to make you prove you had his name on you. He needed to see it with his own eyes or fuck that shit.

His is obvious; he can show it off. In fact, Ran is surprised by how long it took you to come forward, considering his family and status, considering his lifestyle of being very visible.

But no, he had to wait for a fucking database to pop out record of his match from your healthcare provider, and he had wait for that because the government knew about your health…because they know such things…about people who need their fucking money. The registration of soulmarks puts the financial responsibility on the soulmate if they end up having the means.

Now Ran is responsible for you, a woman he made lower the front of her panties in open court to reveal his goddamn name in his own goddamn handwriting imprinted right above her goddamn cunt, and suddenly it became his cunt, his problem, his responsibility.

You’re not even fun. You had no money and didn’t care to have any, so you moved your few, ratty belongings into his home, replacing nothing, offering nothing in return for his—well, in return for every fucking thing he has now being yours, too. It’s so fucked.

You don’t want to show off, and he has no intention of showing you off. He can’t be seen with you, not without the proper clothes or jewelry, and you refused to get them. Instead, Ransom leaves you alone in the house, doing whatever he wants, whenever he wants, as always. He won’t talk to you because he just gets furious every time. He’s not going to have deep conversations about the state of the world, though he might have one social justice issue he can fight for: the mother-fucking law that made you his wife without question.

Ran slams the kitchen cabinet storing all-white, matching stoneware mugs when he notices what’s missing: your single, sad, flea market mug. It’s clay so it always looks dirty, and he hates it.

He lightly punches his own neck in irritation.

He didn’t stand a chance fighting the marriage, not with your name in deep, port red letters creeping up his throat, higher than any turtleneck he’s ever owned. Coupled with his legal name resting snuggly beneath your pubes, it was obviously, technically accurate that you’re soulmates. When was the last time someone challenged that system, he thinks. That might be a better use of his money than—

Where are you anyway?

For all his annoyance, he hasn’t set eyes on you for days.

His house is large enough (and he spends so much time anywhere else) that you have your own room, which you didn’t question, and the kitchen is easy enough to share when one of you eats out with other people (as he does two to three times a day). You get the slightly bigger and more formal living room while Ran gets the den with the big TV. Really it’s been the perfect system for almost forgetting you exist.

He pours tea into his clean, white mug and leaves said big TV fairly loud on some program he wasn’t paying attention to, leaning over the granite countertop to see if he can spot you from this angle.

No luck.

He steps closer, sipping.

A little closer, more sipping, a purposeful smack of his lips to grab your attention if you are just around the corner.

There are two openings, both far larger than doorways, to the living room, each through the central hall. When he doesn’t immediately see you, he steps to the farther opening. What the—

What’d you do to his couch?

Is that every single pillow and blanket from your side of the house?

Did Yankee Candle Company throw up in here?

What, the fucking fireplace wasn’t enough ambiance for you? You had to make some sort of nest with his stuff? And there’s that ugly-ass mug, no coaster, on his super-expensive, reclaimed hardwood coffee table.

A pillow shifts.

No, not a pillow; it’s your back, and when you shift again, Ran sees one of the plush throw blankets slink farther down your bare skin. It’s the largest swath of your body he’s ever seen.

You lay with your arms folded, peering out the windows behind the couch, and you still haven’t fucking noticed him.

He huffs before realizing he isn’t listening to the faint TV anymore, but when he ticks his head, he sees your TV isn’t on either.

“”I think of nothing but you as I fall asleep at night”—” Ran hears a woman’s voice fake a deeper tone before switching to normal “—Javier says, pulling her soft curves into his hard body—”

You sigh dreamily and wiggle on the cushions. The blanket slides over the swell of your ass.

Ran stops moving mid-sip of tea.

“”Please, my darling, let me have you—“ this is fucking terrible, he thinks “—as only a lover can.””

Alright, now Ransom is just sad. You’re naked in his living room, rubbing your thighs together and listening to an erotic novel on your phone.

“Chloe felt his digits dance across her clavicle, his eyes enchanted by her heaving bosom…”

Go out to a club or restaurant with him? No. Wear nice clothes he could buy you? Nope.

“”Javi,” she gasps, distracted by his rough palm groping her breast hungrily, “I can’t believe you want me.””

Ran is going to fucking gag at the whining appall in the narrator’s voice.

Why listen to this awful shit instead of show off him as your husband? From the quick shiver racing down your spine and the curl of your toes where they hang over the cushion’s edge, it’s because you’re fucking horny for it.

Good god, how low are your standards?

He stalks forward, feet hitting the floor hard until he reaches the plush rug.

Startled, you peer over your shoulder at him, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights, and you begin scrambling to recover yourself.

Ran puts his cup down by yours. “Don’t move,” he orders, and to his surprise, you obey, keeping you head turned his direction and sinking back into the pillows.

“”How could you doubt? From the moment I met you, I adored you.””

He swivels to face the same direction as you, reaches out his hand and mime the stroke he’s contemplating tracing over your curves.

“”I’m yours,” Chloe breathes, Javier’s growing member signaling his desire against her silk-covered core.”

Ran finally bends until the tip of his middle finger grazes the inside of your thigh.

As he drags it over one cheek and down the other, you whine and push your ass toward his hand.

That’s…not bad, all things considered. You are his wife, after all, and you clearly want to be fucked. He won’t argue that having some other woman’s name scrawled on him hasn’t limited his game for quite a while. Financially independent or not, when a pussy is presented to him, Ransom will say ‘yes.’

He stops noticing the audio from your phone and just dives in, no sentiments or kind words of his own. He simply unbuckles his belt, pops the button of this jeans, and rips that zipper down before teasing your folds to find enough slick at your entrance to swirl around. He spreads you and your wetness with purpose. Each second that passes drives Ransom a little bit more insane.

Impatient, strung out like a virgin on prom night, he rushes to shove his pants out of the way and kicks one knee up between your legs, his other foot still on the floor. He pumps his fingers inside you until he’s knuckle-deep and nearly dripping, manhandling your hips to the right height to sink his tip into you.

Ran groans at how fucking good you feel. He’s probably just desperate. He’d be excited about any ol’ means to come right now.

He snaps his hips in small thrusts until his whole length glides in and out in seamless stimulation. You’ve buried your face in the pillow, so he can’t hear if you make any noise. He can, however, see your hands scratch at the upholstery and clench into fists. He can see you deepen the arch of your back, angling his dick to fuck just slightly down through your channel. The pressure squeezes the spongy head of his cock like a vice. He’ll never say it out loud, but your pussy is fucking perfect. God fucking dammit.

Ransom relentlessly drives into you, catching the sideview of your breasts bouncing each time his thighs slap yours. He smacks your ass once just to see if it jiggles for him, and that’s when your hand snakes to disappear between your legs. He expects you’re going for your clit which is good because he’s about to get off and get lost, but instead, he feels your soft fingers cup his balls.

He’s so enamored by the sensation that he switches to tiny pulses deep in your cunt while your hand wraps and rolls his sac gently. Twitching and tensing, Ran unabashedly moans until your walls constrict around his length.

He’s got to make you do that again.

Ransom collapses forward to lean over you, his own hand diving to find your clit, resting his palm right over your mound and soulmark. Every inch of his body burns hot with need. He humps wildly, resting his chin over your shoulder.

“”I don’t care how, Javi, just stick it in there. I need you. I need you so badly…””

“Jesus Christ,” Ran growls, “are they still not fucking?”

A giggle bursts from your lips, a sweet, happy sound he’s never heard from you before, and you reach for him. Your palm lands on his soulmark, your fingers curling to scratch the hairs at the nape of his neck, and there’s…there’s…

He can’t comprehend how your body fits his so well. He can’t reconcile this sudden swell of obsession in his gut for you. He’s enveloped in a binary system of souls, gravity tugging at that connection between you.

Ran doesn’t believe in love or destiny. He refuses. He believes in pleasure and perception, in accumulation and ownership.

The only thought left in his static-filled head is mine, mine, mine, mine.

He falls over the edge first, a satisfied shout punctuating each spurt he plants within you, furiously working your messy clit and kneading one breast in his free hand until he feels that squeeze again, and again, and again, dying to a flutter just as your shared cum leaks out around his cock.

By this time, Ran is panting and resting a sizable portion of his weight on you, knees knocked loose in his onslaught, pushing you both flat to the chaise cushion, feet dangling off the end.

You still hold each other’s mark in a comforting palm.

He’s speechless as the room fills with heated love declarations amidst passionate sex and bad dialogue. Ran tries to catch his fucking breath. He’s glad you don’t speak either.

Everything about his life—his past, his present, his future—sits utterly raw in front of him, and he can’t cope.

He makes the mistake of peeling his body off yours, releasing you and dislodging your hand. The cold emptiness which immediately sweeps over him is sickening, and Ran barely waits for you to roll onto your back before he wedges himself between your legs again, instinctually laying on his side, pressing his sweater-clad shoulder against your sopping folds just so he can rest his soulmark right on top of yours.

Euphoria returns to his body and mind, thick like honey and all-consuming.

He doesn’t want to admit it. He doesn’t want to talk about. He doesn’t want to live a moment without you.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Mercifully, the audio speaks for him.

“”Can you just…hold me please? That was…that was…””

“”So intense,” Javier rumbles, “so beautiful.””

Ransom, the preening trust fund baby, has finally found something all his own, something he doesn’t want to share, something shown only for him.

He refuses, however, to call it ‘love’…

…yet.

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: I'm fine.