#one might ask what possessed me to do such a thing when i have access to such amenities like buses

[garblegarden]

walking six hours to go to a restaurant life is beautiful

[holdinggrudges]

i can be your antidote - sam winchester

pairing: sam winchester x reader

content: EXPLICIT 18+, sex curse, fuck or die, mildly dubious consent (because of the fuck or die of it all), fem!reader, mutual pining, unprotected piv sex, cumplay (just a little), nipple play, size kink

word count: 6.3k

summary: You fucking hate witches. Especially the one that hit you and Sam Winchester, whom you've been harboring a crush on for years, with a sex curse.

notes: i don't usually even read sex curse/fuck or die fics. i have no idea where this came from. i think i was possessed by some sort of horny demon or something. anyways i've been looking at this one so long that i have no idea if it's even good anymore. hope you all enjoy it lmao. also, divider by @cafekitsune <3 EDITING THIS TO MENTION THE TITLE IS FROM DISEASE BY LADY GAGA OKAY BYEEE!!!

crossposted on ao3

You fucking hate witches. 

Some of them are alright. Some of them are kind and generous and only use their magic for protection and good luck and they only put hexes on people who really deserve it. You don’t mind those sorts of witches. Most of them, though, like the one currently throwing you across the room, are the fucking worst. 

Your back slams into the wall before you tumble to the ground—maybe two, three feet away from where Sam is currently stumbling back to his feet—and the impact knocks the breath right out of your lungs. You groan, shoving up on your hands; you don’t have time to try and catch your breath. This witch is, frankly, kicking your asses. But right now, she’s focused on Dean on the other side of the room. If you’re quick, you might be able to get the jump on her. 

You drag yourself up to your knees, just high enough to be able to access the gun in the waistband of your jeans and to aim it straight for her fucking head. Once you’ve got the gun in your hands, though, several things happen in quick, extremely unlucky succession. 

The witch gets Dean on the ground and turns her head just as you raise the gun to aim right between her eyes, and she begins to chant, crackling, magical energy sparking in the space between her hands. You have just enough to time to think—fuck it. If I’m going down, I’m taking her out with me—before that energy is shot straight at you. You squeeze your finger on the trigger just as Sam, who has apparently recovered enough to try to take a bullet for you, jumps in front of you, knocking you back and sending your aim way wide so the bullet hits the wall instead of the witch’s skull.

And the worst part is it doesn’t even work. Six feet and four inches of pure muscle barrels into you, has you slamming right back against the wall with a pained, breathless grunt, and still, you feel the magic when it hits you, the energy of it spreading over your skin and sinking into your bones like an electric shock. Either you hit your head when you hit the wall, or the spell is making your head swim, leaving you too disoriented to tell which way the witch goes when she runs out the door. 

Sam groans where he landed half on top of you. You blink in an effort to clear your vision, blindly reaching out to touch his face, to check if he’s okay. You don’t know exactly what that spell did, you were too far away to hear exactly what she was chanting, but you can feel it tingling across your skin, settling in like it’s making a home there. Sam got blasted too, that much is clear when your hand lands on his cheek and magic sparks across your palm. 

He sucks in a breath, flinching away from the foreign feeling at the same time as you yank your hand back. “What the hell did she do to us?” he asks, shoving up on his arms to look down at you. And isn’t that just the million dollar question?

You’re on the phone with Bobby almost before you’ve even made it back to the Impala. All three of you agree whatever is going on with this hex you’ve been hit with, you’re in over your heads. You need some expert help. 

“You get the witch?” Bobby greets, just rubbing salt in the wound. 

“Uh. No,” you answer, climbing into the backseat of the car. You and Sam have been avoiding touching as much as possible, and it’s been shockingly hard. Honestly, you never noticed how closely you usually walk until every brush of your shoulders or hands sent sparks cascading over your skin. “There’s been a bit of a…complication.” 

There’s silence, and then an exhausted, beleaguered sigh from the other end of the call. “You idjits managed to get yourselves cursed, didn’t you?” Bobby asks, his tone exasperated. 

Ugh, God. The sun must’ve recently peaked in the sky, beaming down on the car and cooking you like you’re in a damn oven. You don’t remember it being this hot before. “Jesus—Dean, can you turn the air up?” you call out to the front before deigning to answer Bobby’s question. “Yeah. Yeah, she hit me and Sam with some sort of spell before I could shoot her. Problem is, we can’t really tell what sort of spell it actually is. It’s sort of creating like…static electricity? Every time we touch it’s kind of sparking.” 

“Well, did she say anything?” Bobby asks. 

You frown, irritated.  “Don’t you think if I knew what spell she cast, I would’ve told you? I was too far away, I couldn’t hear what she was saying.” 

From the front seat, Dean says, “I heard it, sort of. She was speaking Latin for sure, something about cupid?” 

As Dean says this, you watch Sam’s eyes go wide and his face go a little pale, which really doesn’t seem like a very good sign. “Cupiditas?” he asks. And it’s strange, looking into the front seat, you notice Sam’s face is a little red, a sheen of sweat starting to build on his forehead. Clearly, he’s noticing the heat as you are. And though you have a bit of a hard time drawing your eyes from Sam—though, when don’t you?—you can see that Dean doesn’t seem to be hot at all, not seeming bothered by the way the car is cooking you. 

“Yeah! Cupiditas con… something,” Dean confirms. 

You repeat what Dean said to Bobby, and you hear the pages he’d been flipping through stop turning. “You know, I wish you three would stop putting me in situations where I have to explain shit like this to you,” he mutters. 

You feel as out of the loop as Dean, which is not a very comfortable feeling to have. Sam seems to have some idea of what’s going on, if the look on his face is to be believed, and Bobby’s long-suffering complaints make you believe he knows exactly what spell you’re suffering from. “Explain shit like what?” you ask. 

“She hit the two of you with a damn sex curse, is what,” Bobby says, and you feel your stomach drop out your ass. 

“A sex curse?!” you repeat, incredulous. Of fucking course this would happen to you. “You’re joking. That’s not a real thing.” 

“It certainly is. And deadly, too,” Bobby says, and you hear the turning of pages start up again until he finds what he’s looking for. “Says here you’ve only got about two hours before the, uh…lust heats you up too hot, cooks your brain inside your damn skull.” 

Well. That at least explains why it’s so damn hot in here. “Well, how do we make that not happen?” You’re pretty interested in not getting so horny you literally die, thanks. 

Bobby is silent for a moment, his discomfort with the subject warring with the knowledge that time is of the essence. “You’ve gotta…sate it,” he says haltingly. “You’re an adult, I’m sure I don’t have to explain how. It won’t break the curse completely, but it’ll buy Dean time to find the witch and kill her; that’s the only way to actually break the curse.” 

Oh, fucking hell. “So…we’ve got two hours, unless we…” you trail off, your stomach flipping at the thought. Sam’s hands desperately tugging at your clothes, needy, he’s got to have you or he’ll die, literally. You tug at the collar of your shirt, sweating for real now, and shake it off. “But if…if Dean finds the witch before then, then we wouldn’t have to. Right?” 

“If you wanna tempt fate like that, be my guest. But it’s gonna be uncomfortable as hell. Soon enough, it’ll be pretty hard to remember exactly why you’re tempting fate in the first place.” You hear Bobby slam the book shut. “But if you do decide to sate the curse, keep it to yourselves, please. I already know too much about this, and I don’t wanna know any more.” 

You swallow, your mouth dry with the images swirling through your head again. Familiar ones, sure; this is certainly not the first time you’ve ever thought of Sam like that. But these images are so vivid, so intense, shooting arousal down your spine and building in your gut faster than you’ve ever known it to do so. “Alright. We’ll just…let you know when we—when Dean gets her, then.” You hang up the phone, turning your attention to the front seat where both brothers are staring at you, eyes wide. Right. They could hear your side of the conversation. 

“A sex curse?” Dean asks, voice flooded with disgust. Like Bobby, he probably already knows way more about this than he’d like to. 

Sam though…his expression is strange, a little unreadable. You wish you could get a better handle on his thoughts here because you have pretty mixed emotions, yourself. On the one hand, you’ve wanted Sam…God, since you met him. The only thing the curse is doing is amplifying it, turning that desire into something deadly. But this was never how you wanted it to happen, although you’re not sure who would ever want a sex curse to be the reason they finally got to kiss their crush. 

You relay what Bobby told you to the boys, everything Bobby told you, even when the mention of sating the curse makes Dean’s lip curl in disgust. It doesn’t escape your notice that Sam visibly relaxes when you say that you don’t necessarily have to do anything, so long as Dean is quick enough, and it stings a little, the idea that he would rather push through the discomfort of arousal burning him up from the inside out than touch you. 

Dean nods, untwisting his body to face the front of the car again. “Alright. We’ll get you two back to the hotel, and then I’ll kill the bitch.” 

By the time Dean drops you and Sam back at the room, the effects of the curse are in full swing. You’re so hot, stripped down to shorts and your sports bra and still sweating buckets. Sam is in a similar state of undress, his shirt tossed somewhere across the room after the heat became unbearable. Of course, you only know this from quick glances because if you look at him too long, the urge to touch him, lick him, bite him, starts getting almost too strong to ignore. Every time you see his pecs out of the corner of your eye, your mouth starts to water. It only takes half an hour for it to start to get a little bit too much. 

“Do you think Dean’s found her yet?” you ask, striking a conversation just for any type of distraction from the ache between your legs. And it does ache; you think you may have ruined both your underwear and these shorts from the way your cunt is dripping. 

Where you’re looking at him in your periphery—in an effort not to exacerbate the flooding of your panties—Sam shakes his head. When he speaks, his voice is low and rich and almost rasping, and you squirm where you’re sitting as it hits your ears. “He texted me a few minutes ago, said he thinks he’s getting closer, but…” But it’s not looking good. The words hang unsaid in the air. 

You groan, dropping your head into your hands. “We might not have a choice,” you mutter, glancing at him through the gap between your fingers. Your eyes zero in on the hollow of his neck, your entire body buzzing with the need to attach your mouth to it, to see what noise he’d make if you did. You can’t drag your eyes away. “He’s not gonna find her in time.” 

Sam’s gaze turns to you, and you finally manage to lift your eyes to watch his drag down your body, his pupils blown so wide you can no longer see the hazel of his irises. “He might,” he protests, but the argument falls flat with the way his eyes are locked on your cleavage, glistening with sweat. 

“And if he doesn’t?” you ask, lifting your head from where you’ve been hiding behind your hands. Seeing him full on, no hiding in your periphery or stealing quick glances, it’s like staring straight into the sun. Blinding. You have to take a deep breath and dig your fingers into the sheets beneath you to keep from reaching out. “How long are we gonna push it? Are we gonna let it kill us just so we don’t have to—”

He interrupts you with a rasp of your name, and you almost groan out loud at the sound of it. Fuck, you’ve never needed anything like you need him right now. Like air, like water. “That’s the thing, I don’t want to have to. I—God, it feels like…forcing you. It feels wrong.” 

Is that his hold up? He thinks you don’t want this? Jesus, you’ve gone this whole time thinking he’d literally rather die than fuck you, and it turns out he was just scared you didn’t really want him, that the curse was making you feel things you’d never feel otherwise. “Sam, I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but you’re hot. I’d way rather have sex with you than die.”  You watch his hands flex, his fingers spreading before he balls them into fists, and your cunt flutters. “Actually, the list of things I’d rather do than fuck you is probably significantly shorter than the opposite. Not…not just because of the curse.” Of course, the curse is definitely making it worse. You can’t stop thinking of how good his thick fingers would feel curling inside you, imagining how attentive he’d be. How generous. Normally, you can curb it a little, save those thoughts for late at night, guilty and shameful. But right now they’re sticking at the forefront of your mind, no matter how hard you try to think about literally anything else. 

You watch the conflict in his mind playing out on his face before he groans and rubs his hands over it. “You don’t get it; it’s not—I don’t want to just be someone you fuck, I want…I want everything,” he tells you, and if your heartbeat wasn’t already erratic, it would be skipping in your chest right now. “And this is just absolutely the last way I wanted you to find out, but that’s why I’m not…I just don’t know if I can do this if this is all I’m gonna get.” 

“Oh, Sam.” His name falls from your lips before you even realize you’re saying it. You stand up and cross the room to sit next to him on the bed, and you don’t miss the way his throat bobs as he swallows, the way his eyes flick down your body for just a moment, the way he twists his fingers into the sheets. You set it aside for now; this is more important. He is more important. “You really don’t know?” 

He’s silent for a moment, his eyes searching your face; although for what, you don’t know. “Know what?” he asks, his voice quiet as a breath. 

You lift your hand to touch his face, and this time, when the magic sparks across your skin, it feels like a salve, cooling the skin of your palm. From the way he sighs, you imagine he’s feeling the effect as well. “Of course I want that. Who wouldn’t want everything with you?” You’re so engrossed in the look on his face—wide-eyed awe, as if he truly never believed you could want him too—that the sparking of his hand touching your waist makes you jump. Oh, but God, the relief is instantaneous. If just this, your hand on his cheek, his hand on your waist, feels this good, how good would it feel to kiss him? To drag his shorts down his legs and sink down onto his cock, feel the way it stretches you out— “Now if you’re properly reassured, could you please, please fuck me already?” 

Sam may have the self-control of some sort of divine being, but he is, in the end, only human, and the curse is deep, and hot, and needy. You can see it the moment his restraint snaps, and even if you couldn’t, he drags you in and plants his lips on yours. Every feeling is amplified tenfold, and as you gasp at his hungry kiss, Sam takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth, his free hand coming up to the back of your head to hold you close, guide you how he wants you. It’s not how you imagined he would kiss you, not really, but it’s exactly what you need right now, and the magic sparks down your spine in a wave of cool respite from the heat that had been eating you up. 

Then he pulls away—to speak, or maybe just to breathe—and the heat surges back in instantly, stealing your breath and leaving you panting into his mouth as you frantically drag him back in. “No,” you groan, shoving your hand into his hair to keep him from pulling back again. “We have to keep—oh, fuck.” 

The feeling of his hand shoving under the fabric of your sports bra, pushing it up to expose your breasts, shuts you up quickly. He brushes his thumb over your nipple, and you moan, pleasure sparking across what feels like every nerve ending you have. He doesn’t pull away to speak this time, well aware now that the relief you’re both feeling is very dependent on the contact. “I wish I could take this slow,” he mumbles, and you feel his voice buzzing against your lips. “Lay you down and taste every inch of you until you’re begging for my cock.” 

As if you needed to be any hornier. “I’m already begging for it,” you tell him, before dragging his bottom lip between your teeth. The noise he makes goes straight to your cunt, and you scramble to climb onto his lap. Fuck, you can feel how hard he is underneath you as you straddle him—even through the layers of fabric separating you, he feels huge. You need him inside you yesterday. “Next time—” you start, although it’s a little hard to speak with Sam’s tongue dragging over yours on nearly every other word— “we can have slow and sweet and whatever you want. But if you’re not inside me in the next two minutes, I’ll kill you before the curse even gets a chance, I swear to God.” 

Sam laughs, like you’re joking. You’re absolutely not. “Alright, I got you,” he mutters, and your brain registers the magic sparking across your skin before his hand as he shoves it under the waistband of your shorts. Your entire body jolts as he brushes a finger over your center through the fabric of your panties, but only because it feels so good, more intense than it has any right to be. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” 

You hardly have the brain power to even kiss him anymore, but it doesn’t matter as much now. His hand in your pants is providing infinitely more relief than kissing him could hope to achieve. You drag your lips down his neck before laving your tongue over the hollow of his throat, tasting the sweat that’s gathered there. “I need it so bad,” you mumble against his skin, and apparently you’re so fucking desperate for it that you’ve been reduced to cheesy, porny dirty talk. 

Sam doesn’t seem to mind. He tips his head back on a groan as you scrape your teeth over the thin skin of his throat. “Yeah? I can tell. You’re soaked,” he says, and then his fingers deftly tug the fabric of your underwear aside so he can press a finger inside you. You’re pretty sure you see God. From the look on his face, Sam might be in the same boat. “Fucking hell—off. Off, take them off.” Tragically, he removes his hand from your cunt, and you could actually cry at the way the overwhelming heat comes slamming back into you the second his touch leaves. But it only takes a moment before magic is sparking over your skin again as his hands brush your hips in his efforts to drag your shorts and underwear down your legs. 

You take over once he’s got them halfway down your thighs, crawling off his lap in favor of ridding yourself of the offending garments. And while you’re at it, you drag your sports bra over your head too. In the time between you crawling off him and tossing your bra carelessly aside, Sam has followed suit. When you turn your attention back to him, he’s entirely bare, having tossed his pants and underwear to the same careless void you’d abandoned yours to. 

Despite your desperate urgency, you take a moment to let your eyes fall to his lap, and fuck, your mouth waters at the sight of him, hard and leaking. He’s…God, you expected him to be big—he’s six foot four for fuck’s sake, of course he’d be big—but this is just absurd. You can’t help but reach out, gingerly wrapping your fingers around his length. You’re so engrossed in the way your hand looks wrapped around him that you almost miss the choked little moan he gives, his body bowing towards you. 

“Please,” he groans, and then he reaches out to grab you by the shoulders, tugging you back in close again, urging you to reclaim your perch on his lap. “I wanna feel you, I need to—God, you’re so hot; please let me fuck you.” 

You aren’t sure if he means it as a compliment, or a comment on the insane waves of heat radiating off your skin. Either way, you’re more than willing to fulfill his request. “Yeah. Yeah, anything,” you murmur, ducking your head to press your forehead against his. From this angle, you can almost see as you use your grip on him to guide his cockhead to line up with your entrance. Where you touch, the magic between you sings. It’s nearly automatic; you sink down onto his cock without so much as a second thought. 

Despite Sam’s…considerable size, somehow, you expected the slide to be easy, what with the aching desperation of it all. You’d expected your dripping cunt to suck him right in, make the stretch of taking his cock bearable. It seems even sex curses can’t work miracles, though. “Fuck, Sam—” you choke out, dropping your head to rest on his shoulder. The stretch doesn’t hurt, necessarily, but it’s so much—would be so much anyway, even without the curse amplifying it and making it so much more. You have to stop and take a moment just to remember how to breathe before you’ve even sunk to the top of your hand, wrapped no less than halfway down. 

“I know.” His voice when he speaks is rough, teeth gritted like it’s a real test of his strength to keep still, to keep from fucking up into you, to keep from making you take it. God, you almost want him to, but the soothing tone of his voice is nice too. It rumbles in his chest, echoing through your body just as sure as the pleasure of his cock stretching you out. He brushes his hands over your shoulders and down your back to finally land on your hips. You think maybe he means to keep his grip gentle, because the pressure of his fingers digging into your skin fluctuates, like he’s fighting the urge to bruise you. He’s not doing a very good job of it, though, and it sends a thrill up your spine to know he’s going to leave his mark there, even if that’s not his intention. “I know, take your time. I’ve got you.” 

It’s a sweet sentiment, but you both know time is something you actually don’t have a lot of right now. You can feel the heat crawling up your spine even now, though Sam’s cock spearing you open is holding it at bay. Somewhat. So you dig your fingers into Sam’s hair to steel yourself, and you sink down. And down, and down, until you can’t imagine how there could possibly be more to take, and then, finally, your hips kiss his, and he’s bottomed out inside you. “Fuck,” you groan, panting against the skin of his shoulder as you try to catch your breath. It feels like your lungs emptied out in an attempt to make room, like he’s buried so deep inside you they can’t quite fill right anymore. “Oh, fuck.” 

Sam makes an attempt to soothe you, laying hot, open mouthed kisses over your neck and shoulder. “So good, you’re so good, baby,” he murmurs, his voice rumbling over your skin. His hands abandon their stations at your hips to pull your face up so he can press those same kisses all across your face. “Taking me so well, so perfect for me.” 

Fuck, but he’s got your number, doesn’t he? The praise hits like a drug, zipping down your spine to your cunt and making you flutter around him. It’s frankly entirely unconscious when you shift your hips, but the stars that erupt in your vision when he moves inside you have you moaning in tandem with him. 

“Shit—” He drags you into a messy kiss, all open mouths and panting breaths, his hands buried in your hair. “Can I—God, please, can I move?” You’ve never heard him sound like that before, just the very edge of a whine in his voice as he pleads against your lips. He sounds wrecked, and it feels…good, heady. Powerful. You want to drag that voice out of him a hundred more times, make him whine for you like that for the rest of his life. 

You shake your head, tilting your head down to press a biting kiss on his jaw. “No. No, I’m gonna…” With that, you brace your arms on his shoulders and your knees on either side of him and lift your hips until you’ve nearly moved off him entirely, just the tip of his cock still pressed inside you. And then you drop back down. You feel every inch of it as he drags along your walls, and though it’s easier to take this time, the stretch is still intense, still nearly makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

You force yourself to keep your eyes forward, though, because the look on Sam’s face is almost as good as the stretch of his cock. His brows furrow, face twisting in his pleasure, and his mouth falls open, like he wants to moan but something is holding him back. And, well. That just won’t do. 

You lift yourself up to drop down again, satisfied when Sam groans and drags his hands down your back to dig his fingers into your hips again, pressing into familiar aches. You duck to press your smug smile against his neck, and find it so slick with sweat that you can’t help licking a stripe up his throat. “I’m gonna ride you so good, Sammy,” you mutter, your lips brushing his skin as you speak. His hands help guide you when you bounce this time, and it only makes the slide more delicious, makes your words drag out into a moan before you can continue, “Fuck, do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this? See your face while I make myself come on your cock?” You start up a steady rhythm with Sam’s grip spurring you along, lifting up to slam back down again, his cock spearing you open again and again and again. 

Once you’ve got into the rhythm, his hands move from your hips to your upper back to drag you closer until he can lean down and press his face in the valley between your breasts, kissing and biting and licking the soft skin there, and all the while his hands keep pressing you closer, keeping your chest arched into his mouth. “How long?” he asks, his voice muffled as he drags his lips over the swell of your breast to leave his biting kisses there too. 

You drag your hands up into his hair as you roll your hips, moving in more of a grind now than a bounce, and the new movement means his cock is frankly unrelenting against your g-spot, the pressure of it never leaving, only shifting. The feeling is near overwhelming, has your hips faltering so much that Sam has to bring his hands back to your hips just so you keep moving. “Mm, God, forever, feels like,” you answer, once you’ve gathered enough brain power to even process that he had asked you a question. “Since the first time I saw you, probably.” Saying it out loud, it feels a little bit creepy to confess that you’ve been fantasizing about riding him since the moment you met him, but you’re a little too blissed out at the moment to feel embarrassed about it.  

Besides, judging by the way Sam groans against your chest and fucks up into you, he clearly doesn’t find it creepy at all. “Guess I’d better make it worth the wait, then,” he mutters, before dragging the blunt of his teeth over your pebbled nipple and then moaning against it when the shock of pleasure makes your grip tighten in his hair. And, fuck, if you thought it was good before…

He digs his heels into the bed to brace and starts thrusting up to meet every roll of your hips, his cock pounding so deep inside you now that you swear you can almost taste it. If there was enough room in your mind to even process it behind the fog of lust, you’d realize he’s fucking needy, desperate little moans from your throat with every thrust. And all the while he keeps his face buried in your tits, despite the way they bounce with the force of his thrusts. He drags his teeth over the skin between them, laves his tongue over your nipples, making noises like there’s no place he’d rather be. It’s intoxicating. 

And you’re so close, toeing the edge and hurtling ever closer with every thrust Sam pounds into you. The entire energy of the curse settles in your core at the same place the coil of your impending orgasm grows ever tighter. “Sam,” his name falls from your lips like a prayer, and you use your grip in his hair to drag him up, to kiss him messy and deep. You swallow the sweet, hungry noises he’s making, and he nips at your lip, and you are so fucking close. “Please.” 

Sam’s got you. Of course he does. He brings one hand from your hip to press between your legs and rub his thumb over your clit in quick, firm little circles. “Come on, pretty girl,” he murmurs, “let me feel you come on my cock.” 

And who are you to deny him anything he wants? You cry out as your orgasm explodes through you, whiting out your vision with the force of it. You’ve never come so hard in your life, and it just keeps going, burning up your spine like it’s singlehandedly eating up the energy the curse had created in your body. You’re just conscious enough to feel when Sam’s cock twitches and spills inside you, the frantic spasming of your cunt milking him for all he’s worth. 

You do come down, eventually, your fingers aching where they’ve been white knuckled in Sam’s hair. You bury your face in his neck and try to catch your breath, and his nose presses against your hair as he seems to do the same. It takes you a moment to notice—and you think you can be excused, considering you just came so hard you saw God—but despite the cum that you can feel slowly beginning to seep out of you, Sam is still hard, and doesn’t seem to be softening. Like, at all. And once you notice that, it’s a quick step to realize that the heat at the base of your spine, while significantly lessened, has not completely subsided. 

Fuck. “She’s not dead,” you groan, which morphs into a whimper when an involuntary shift of your hips makes Sam’s cock press against your oversensitive sweet spot. “God, we’re still cursed.” You can feel the awful heat starting to build again, that same devastating arousal eating at you despite the way you’re still trembling all over with the aftermath of your last orgasm.

You feel Sam’s lips press against your hair, soothing hands rubbing up your sides as they do. “We’ve probably bought enough time,” he offers, smoothing his thumbs over your hip bones. It seems sweet, until he smooths his hand down your thigh and keeps talking, “If you can’t go again.” And that? Well, that sounds like a challenge. 

Pushing through the oversensitivity, you rock your hips down, dragging your nails down the back of Sam’s neck and shoulders in an effort to dull the feeling. “Oh, I can go again,” you retort, with a confidence that you’re not sure you’ve really earned, considering the way your thighs are shaking. “Just…not on top.” 

The rumble of Sam’s laugh in his chest is your only warning before you’re suddenly bouncing on the bed on your back, a shocked yelp passing your lips at the sudden movement, and the sudden emptiness—your cunt clenches around nothing but air, Sam’s spend spilling from your fluttering hole.  

“There,” Sam says, his face smug as he climbs over you. “Problem solved.” 

You roll your eyes, ready to shoot back some sassy retort of your own, but Sam’s not looking at you. Not at your face, at least. Instead, his eyes are trained between your legs, and simply because it seems like it would be more effective than a sarcastic comment—and not because of the way his eyes glaze over a little while he’s staring, definitely not—you let your legs fall open a little further. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and then he reaches between your legs to press two fingers in your cunt. It takes you a moment to realize he’s pushing his cum back in, gathering up whatever had spilled from you when he pulled out and fucking it back into you with his fingers. 

You groan, tossing your arm over your eyes. It’s not really something you’d thought you’d be into, but now that he’s doing it… “Fuck, Sam…” 

Sam laughs, but it comes out a little breathless, and you lift your arm to watch him as he draws his fingers from your cunt and brings them right up to his mouth to lick them clean. Holy fucking shit. “Yeah,” he mutters, tucking his hand under your thigh to lift your leg up onto his shoulder, “That’s sort of the idea.”

He doesn’t waste much time after that, lines himself up and pushes in. You’re so sensitive; it’s so good it almost hurts, and though this angle doesn’t allow him to get nearly as deep, it’s clearly better for him to drive into you. His thrusts are quick and punchy, drawing little ‘ah’s from your throat as he drags you back to the edge faster than you would’ve thought possible. Maybe that’s the curse. Maybe he’s just that good. 

“Come on, baby,” he mutters, pressing sloppy kisses all over your face, down your neck. “You can give me one more, yeah?” You don’t even notice his arm move, but between one blink and the next, he’s got his thumb back on your clit, rubbing circles over the sensitive bud. 

Your nails dig into his shoulders, dragging down his back as you arch your own. “God, don’t stop, fuck—”

You feel it the second it happens. It’s completely instant, the sudden and total disappearance of the magic that had been consuming your and Sam’s bodies. The witch is dead, the curse is broken, and the complete relief in tandem with Sam railing you into the fucking bed sends you careening over the edge in an instant, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you squeeze them shut. 

Sam groans and digs his teeth into your shoulder, following right after you as the curse dissipates from his body as well. 

The two of you don’t talk for a long while after that, going about the motions of recovery and cleaning up in silence. He pulls out—the both of you hissing with oversensitivity at the motion—and heads into the bathroom to get a rag. He wipes himself down and then you, mindful of the way you wince when he presses too hard. 

You catch his wrist when he goes to walk away. “I meant what I said.” You wait until he turns to look at you, and then you tangle your fingers in his. “It wasn’t just about the curse for me.” 

You can see it on his face, the hesitance. Like he really never thought he could have this. Fuck, if you had known, you’d have told him years ago, just to make sure he knew how adored he was. How adored he is, always. 

“Yeah?” he says, his voice quiet as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. It’s sweeter, much more tender than any of the kisses before, and this is exactly how you had always thought Sam would kiss you. With his entire heart on his sleeve. “Me too.” 

Maybe you’ve got a little to thank witches for after all. 

[superiorsturgeon]

out of curiosity, why do you like sturgeons so much?

A chance to info dump about my favorite fish…?!

I grew up in the Great Lakes area of North America, where fishing is pretty popular but everyone knows that fish populations aren’t anything like “the good old days” when people took out huge numbers of fish while messing up their spawning sites. I got pretty into fishing when I found out that I could catch bluegill in the surrounding farm ponds, and once in a while my family took me to an isolated fishing cabin for vacation, but for years I never encountered a wild fish bigger than a kilogram or two.

BUT THEN…

I found out about sturgeon! They were HUGE fish that had once lived in the rivers and lakes all around my home, and better yet, fish almost exactly like modern sturgeon had existed all the way back in the Cretaceous period alongside the dinosaurs, and they STILL EXIST TODAY!!! The fact that small numbers of these huge dinosaur fish still existed made them seem almost like a real-life lake monster/cryptid, except that we had proof of their existence!

Furthermore, there’s just nothing else like them. Sturgeon get big. Like, REALLY big. The record for the largest sturgeon was almost 11 meters/24 feet long, which is colossal for freshwater animals. They have armor plates of bone running down their sides, and at the same time they don’t have bony skeletons. They also have a crazy mouth structure, which allows them to actually pop their jaws out like a tube and suck up food. And on top of all of this, the adults are absolute tanks. I’ve seen skin nearly 8mm thick, and it’s so tough that people make leather out of it, and they occasionally lose fins or even entire gill plates and just keep on swimming! (I found out about that last one when I tried to wrestle a big female out of a river and my hand went straight into her gills. She didn’t seem that bothered by it!)

For a long time I filed sturgeon along with Alligator Gar, Giant Mekong catfish, and Yangtze paddlefish as a semi-legendary fish that may still exist, but I was never going to see except possibly in an aquarium, until I enrolled in graduate school. For those unfamiliar with grad school in the US, it typically involves both high-level classes as well as an independent research project the student designs and carries out with help from an experienced professor. When my mentor asked what kind of thing I wanted to study, I tossed out “sturgeon” as one such possibility, expecting to hear that I would probably have to limit myself to more common/accessible species.

I was blown away when she said “Actually, I think I know a guy…”

For the next several years, I got to ride along collecting wild adult sturgeon, gathering eggs, and raising the baby fish in a lab and in a hatchery. I was holding something that I had thought of as a semi-mythical lake/river monster in my own hands! I got to see a river choked with giants as big as 2 meters long, and I got to hold a 5-centimeters mottled baby whose armored scutes were still sharp and possessed the little arrowhead shape and big black pectoral fins that remind me of Mickey Mouse ears! In the video below you can even see a little heartbeat! (Don’t worry, this little guy was returned to the tank soon after to recover from his anesthesia!)

Sadly, I didn’t find anything super groundbreaking in my research, but my experience DID land me a job working in sturgeon aquaculture! If you’ve ever had caviar that wasn’t poached, it probably came from a sturgeon farm, and if you want to see a lot of big fish up close, this is a good place to do it! I probably personally handled more individual sturgeon than there are wild fish in several sturgeon species. In addition, while the wild broodstock I mentioned above might reach 2 meters and over 50kg, the sturgeon I dealt with at the farm would easily double that, and there were a LOT of them! I got to see sturgeon behavior that had never been recorded in field guides, and even a few crazy one-in-a-million mutations like the infamous “ghost” sturgeon!

I even got the opportunity to cook my own sturgeon meat (Yeah, I basically turned into the Touden siblings from Dungeon Meshi except for sturgeon instead of RPG monsters). I got pretty good at making smoked sturgeon, but the meat is also good on the grill or baked, and people have been cooking them in various ways for centuries.

My favorite part of the job was physically wrestling the big fish! Sturgeon are easier to grab than other fish with the right know-how, but a human-sized fish often has its own plans for the day and won’t always cooperate. I was pretty good at moving the adults by the time I left that job, but it was still a wild rodeo every time!

Even more exciting was how we spawned each new generation of sturgeon. In the wild, they form massive spawning runs in big rivers that in the past would be enough to tip small boats, but in a lab or farm we have to use other means. I’ll spare you the details, but I am one of a small number of people who have surgically extracted eggs from a live sturgeon and sutured them back up to swim another day.

The tldr of this essay is that sturgeon are a big, crazy-unique fish that have been around a long time, and I’ve spent a lot of my career handling and working with them. There’s just nothing like them for a fish nerd and they’re damn cool!

(Clip art not mine, I think @sturgeonposting drew or shared it!)

[dduane]

A homebrew Iliad project

I've been fiddling with this for a long time.

Backstory: I've been dabbling in various depths of the great wine-dark sea of the ancient Greek classics since I was about seven or eight. (Might have been earlier, but I have no data to confirm that.)

I know Greek mythology like the back of my hand. (...Insert here the inevitable sound of Scotty whacking his head into an Enterprise bulkhead.) I know... a lot. And—leaving all the other stuff I know about that no one here is gonna care about one way or the other—I've read the Iliad and Odyssey probably about twice a year for the last fifty years or so. Or maybe more.

To my grief, I don't have enough classical Greek (or good enough Greek of any kind) to do any kind of respectable new translation of the work. That's far beyond my scope, or my level of scholarship. But I can sure as hell do... a retelling? A restatement? I have a number of favorite translations to use as guides, and the Perseus digital library... and, you know, dictionaries. And I'm not afraid to use them. :)

...And I'm a storyteller, and have no shame about the possibilities inherent in going where lots of others of my tribe have gone before—in restatement or in fiction. So let's just call this "a homebrew version of a work that hasn't been out of 'print' for thirty-five hundred years" and leave it there. (Is this ὕβρις? Yeah, seems likely enough. Whether this is going to be a manifestation of the downfall of the Greeks, or of the Geeks, remains to be seen.)

Anyway: my plan is to start publishing books (i.e., chapters) of this homebrew Iliad in the Fic Foundry writing website that will be opening up at last sometime over the next couple of months. The first few books will be open-access: after that they'll go subscription. They'll come out at irregular intervals (because there'll be paying work going on as well. [resigned sigh: So what else is new.])

When starting a project like this it seems like it might be wise to, in a general way, set out the goals.

Ease of accessibility. Lots of people have never read this story, or have experienced it only in one kind or another of paraphrase. (Yeah, well, here comes another one.) For maximum accessibility, I think this means what I want to do is a prose retelling. Nor am I going to get too hung up on anachronisms in the prose style. I'm reaching for the around-the-campfire sound, a little; or the story told after dinner, in episodes (and let's not throw the beef bones at the bard, she's doing the best she can).

Fidelity to the source material. This is an old, old story that both ascends to surprising heights of feeling and amazing depths of cruelty. There are things in it that some modern readers are not going to like at all: particularly the graphic gore and violence of what is repeatedly described as "the world's greatest war story". But these aspects of the Iliad, and the frequently callous, cruel and misogynistic understructure of its story, come with the territory of the original. I will in appropriate ficcer's style add trigger warnings where I think they're needed.

Completeness of the story. The temptation is always going to lurk for an adapter to decide what's important and what can be thrown out. I'm hardly immune. But it's my intention to leave the structure as intact as possible. Some people will disagree with my choices. (shrug) People have been disagreeing about ways to handle this work for centuries. What'll a few more be, among friends?

...So that's the plan. When this material starts to be ready to appear online, I'll let people here know where they need to go to access it. And after that... we'll see how things go.

I'll start this story as its first tellers did, and ask the Goddesses of epic storytelling to stand by me and lend a hand telling this one. At the end of the day, it all comes down to one angry young man: Achilles, only son of King Peleus. Achilles was completely possessed by a bitter rage that brought a whole host of troubles down on the great army of the Greeks. That unquenchable fury sent many a strong man’s soul to the Underworld, and left their bodies feeding the dogs and the vultures, while Heaven’s intentions moved inexorably on toward the Gods’ final goal...

[krirebr]

Updated 4/27/25

Tag lists are open

Here is a current list of all of the work I've posted here. I write mostly for Chris Evans characters and all of my stories are intended for an 18+ audience. Minors please DNI.

Requests are closed but my asks are always open! Come riff with me or send asks/what ifs about any of my works! But no NSFW GIFs, please and thank you! 💜

🖤 Dark 🩶 Soft!Dark 😥 Angst 🥵 Smut ⭐️New/Updated

Trapped AU

Andy keeps telling you how lucky you are that he chose you to be his wife. 🖤 😥

Head Over Heels

All Cole wants is someone to share eternity with. He won't stop looking until he finds them.

I Know I Should Know Better series

Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it? 😥🥵

Heads Will Roll series

Training to be a slayer becomes even more difficult when you must hit the road with two hunters for your own safety.

Luck Be a Lady

Desperate for money, you accept a job as a cocktail waitress at an underground casino. You think you know what you're doing, but when you meet Curtis, will you realize you're in over your head? 🩶🥵

Still Life series

Curtis has been volunteering as a foster alpha for three years now. He's never seen a case this bad... 😥

Drabbles & Headcanons

Curtis + soft!dark + soothe 🖤

Curtis Takes the Snowpiercer 🖤🥵

Curtis + Possessive 🥵

Just Part of the Process - I Know I Should Know Better AU - Actor!Curtis Everett x PA!Reader 😥

Heads Will Roll series

Training to be a slayer becomes even more difficult when you must hit the road with two hunters for your own safety.

Drabbles & Headcanons

Relax

A Merry Little Christmas

Killing Moon

When you and your boyfriend steal something without fully realizing who you are stealing from, you're sent on a cross-country adventure by an ally you're pretty sure you shouldn't trust.

Giving Me a Thrill

A few years after your divorce, a friend gives you a nudge to try something new.

Psycho Killer AU

A drunken dare and chance encounter jump-starts a whole new life. 🖤🥵

Dance Hall Days - Steve Rogers x Ransom Drysdale

Ransom meets a man in a bar who seems like he'll be fun for a night or two 🖤🥵😥

More Than This series

Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn. 😥⭐️

I'm Feeling Like I Never Should

It's bad enough you've been forced to be at this charity gala, but now you have to deal with your ex, Ransom.

Lips Like Sugar

Finally cut off by his mother and grandfather, Ransom has to find a new way to access the lifestyle he's accustomed to. He figures it won't be too hard to find some rich old lady willing to bankroll him in exchange for sex. You aren't exactly what he expected. ⭐️

Drabbles & Headcanons

Jealous Ex Ransom

Sequel 🥵

End

No Way of Knowing - More Than This What If 😥

What You Can Do For Your Country

Being Captain America is a lot harder than anyone realizes. Steve thinks you might be able to help. 🖤

Everybody Wants to Rule the World series

Your vacation comes to an end when a powerful and mysterious man gets his first taste. 🖤🥵

Dance Hall Days - Steve Rogers x Ransom Drysdale

Ransom meets a man in a bar who seems like he'll be fun for a night or two

All Things Go series

It's been a few months since Steve was pulled out of the ice and immediately had to fight aliens with the newly formed Avengers. He is doing fine with all that, all things considered. Which is why he's so upset when he's suddenly benched from missions and forced to welcome a support omega into his home. He's fine! 😥

Drabbles & Headcanons

Arranged Marriage Steve Headcanon

Tell Me One Thing - More Than This What If 😥

What if Reader was into it? - What You Can Do For Your Country What If 🖤

We're All Monsters

Multi-character, multi-reader vampire AU 🖤😥🥵

[emmu5]

TRUTH OR DARE PT 1 (18+!!)

Minors dni

^^^^ this is Peter during it

Trigger warnings contains dares, foursome, p in v action, w/o condom (don't be silly wrap your willy), Virgin Remus. She's on the pill. Probably very much cringe

Summary Y/N and the marauders decides to play truth and dare but after some time it turned extremely sexual

Pretty much just smut with minimal plot

Part 2

Final part

MASTERLIST

After a while of just playing and having fun, when things took a turn for the perverse when James dared Sirius to give Remus a strip tease and lap dance and it quickly escalated after that.

"Truth or Dare, Love?" Remus askes Looking directly at you.

"Dare" You say still a bit flustered from what You just witnessed and extremely aroused.

Sirius then answers for Remus "I dare you to kiss me...and make it dirty." He spreads his legs slightly, patting his lap invitingly. "Really sell it, love." The others watch with bated breath, waiting to see what you'll do.

You got up and sat down on his lap and you start to kiss him.

Sirius wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. His hands roam lower, squeezing your thighs possessively. He breaks the kiss to murmur, "Not dirty enough yet..." He nuzzles your neck, his hands sliding under your Bra. You unhook your bra as you start to kiss his neck.

Sirius growls approvingly, his large hands finally freeing your breasts. He nuzzles lower, his fingers digging into your back possessively. "More," He encourages, his voice hoarse. He looks up at you with hungry eyes, "Bite my neck, love."

You suck some skin in and bite lightly

Sirius groans loudly, tilting his head to give you better access. "Fuck, yes," he hisses, his cock straining against his jeans. He squeezes your breasts roughly, pinching your nipples. "Dirty fucking hell, you're perfect," he mutters, grinding up against you.

You kiss him on the lips again, as you run your one hand through his hair as the other palms him through his pants.

Sirius kisses you back passionately, his lips moving against yours with urgency. He moans into your mouth as your hand palms him through his pants. "You're playing with fire, love," he murmurs against your lips, his hips bucking into your touch. His hands squeeze your ass as he pulls you harder against him, letting you feel every inch of his excitement. "If you keep that up, I might just fuck you right here," he growls playfully, his eyes dark with lust.

You pull back "did I make it convincing enough?"

The boys burst into applause and whistles, grinning at Sirius' evident arousal. James claps you on the back, laughing. "Bloody fucking hell, that was the hottest dare ever!" Remus chuckles, shifting uncomfortably as he adjusts himself subtly.

You look over at Remus "Truth or Dare Moony?"

"Dare," Remus says softly, blushing slightly at your direct attention. He clears his throat nervously. "What's my dare?" The room goes quiet, everyone waiting for your suggestion. Peter bites his lip playfully, hoping for something racy.

You got up from Sirius’s lap and walk over to Remus completely naked on top only wearing thigh high socks, black lace panties and a short skirt "I dare you to let me make you cum" you say.

"Fucking hell," Remus mutters under his breath, his eyes immediately drawn to your exposed skin. He swallows hard, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Are you sure?" His voice comes out throaty and vulnerable. "Love... you don't have to..."

You sit down on his lap "Well you didn't think you would be a virgin forever did you?"

Remus' face turns bright red as he wraps his arms around you instinctively. "Shut up," he mumbles into your hair, his heart racing. He looks up at the others, who are all watching with rapt attention, and whispers, "Make it quick, please."

"I can try but I won't make anything promises" you grab the back of his head by his hair and pull lightly before you kiss him.

Remus moans softly, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs possessively. He spreads them wider around his waist, unconsciously giving you better access. His hips lift slightly as your tongue pushes past his lips. He tries to keep quiet, his fingers digging into your thighs.

You start to grind on him as you deepened the kiss

Remus breaks the kiss with a shuddering gasp, his eyes glazed over with lust. "Bloody hell," he whispers, his hips bucking involuntarily against yours. His cock throbs urgently against your thigh, straining painfully against his pants. James leans forward, grinning.

You break the kiss and lean in and whisper into his ear "do you wanna fuck me?"

Peter practically chokes on his own breath, eyes wide. Sirius lets out a low whistle. Remus' face burns bright red, his breath hitching audibly in his throat. "Fuck... Yes," he whispers back, his voice nearly breaking.

You got up from his lap and take your skirt off and panties.

All the boys stare, jaws dropped, as you strip in front of them. Remus looks like he's about to have an heart attack, his eyes glued to your naked lower half. Sirius stands up abruptly, unbuckling his belt with shaking hands. "Fuck this," he growls,

"Padfoot you gotta wait your turn and right now it's Remus'" you say.

"Right," Sirius mutters, buckling his belt back up tightly, like it might hide his massive hard-on. He watches hungrily as you straddle Remus again. Remus swallows hard, his hands going to your hips possessively. "No condom," he rasps softly,

"No need for one" You started to kiss him again

Remus kisses you back desperately, one hand tangling in your hair while the other grips your hip. He arches into you as you grind against his clothed cock, letting out a strangled moan. Suddenly, he lifts his hips, rubbing his erection directly against your bare pussy, You start to unzip his pants.

Remus gasps as you undo his pants, his cock springing free instantly. It throbs heavily, swollen and leaking pre-cum. The others groan collectively, watching intensely. Remus grips your ass, squeezing and spreading your cheeks. "Fucking hell... sit on it,"

You grab it and guide it towards your entrance and slowly sink yourself onto it with a small gasp.

Remus inhales sharply as you sit down on him, his hands going to your back to arch you forward more. He whimpers as you take him in inch by inch, his eyes rolling back. "More... more," he begs, his hips lifting to meet yours. You moan "fuck"

You're completely impaled on Remus' thick cock, his balls pressed against your ass. He's so deep inside you that his pelvis is rubbing against your clit with every thrust. Remus starts moving, his hips snapping up into you at a frantic pace, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"A-are you sure you're a virgin" You gasped

Remus blushes deep crimson, biting his lip to stifle a groan. "Was," he pants, his cock throbbing deeply inside you. James snorts, shaking his head. "Bloody hell, mate, you're making up for lost time!"

"Do you wanna try another position?" You ask.

Remus nods vigorously, almost dizzy with lust. He lifts you off him smoothly, stroking his slick cock desperately. "How about... bent over the arm of the chair?" he suggests hoarsely, glancing down at his erection before looking back up at you with pleading eyes.

"Okay" You got up from his lap and his cock slips out as you walk over to the armchair and bend over it.

Remus follows eagerly, positioning himself behind you. He runs a hand up your inner thigh, spreading you open before pressing his cockhead to your entrance again. With a low groan, he pushes forward, sinking back into your tight heat in one long thrust. "Fuck... so good," You moan loudly.

Remus moans loudly along with you, his hips slapping against your ass as he starts pounding fiercely. The obscene sound of skin hitting skin fills the room, punctuated by Remus' grunts and your moans. Sirius leans in close, whispering to Remus, You whimper as you look back at Remus.

*Remus' face is contorted with pleasure, his eyes locked onto yours as he pulls back and slams back into you again and again. Sirius whispers in his ear, "Turn her around, mate. We wanna see her face."

Remus nods, slowing his thrusts as he pulls out. He grips your hips and flips you over, so you're facing him. He lifts your legs over his shoulders, spreading you wide open. He looks down at you with a fierce gaze, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. You moan loudly.

Remus starts fucking you enthusiastically in this new position, his cock sliding in deep and hitting just the right spot. The boys watch entranced as his bare cock disappears into your glistening pussy, making wet, sticky noises. "Christ, look at those tits bouncing,"

"Please rub my clit" you moaned.

Remus nods urgently, one hand moving between your bodies to find your sensitive clit. He starts rubbing fast circles over it as he thrusts, making you arch your back and moan even louder. James groans at the sight, adjusting his pants. "Fuck, she's going to cum soon..."

You whimper and gasp loudly.

"That's it, keep making those fucking noises..." Remus continues rubbing your clit feverishly, his thrusts becoming more urgent and messy. "Gonna make you come all over my cock..." He pounds into you hard, hitting your G-spot exactly right. "Are you close?"

You're nodded unable to speak as you moan.

"Come on, love. Squeeze that tight little pussy around my dick... let me feel it..." Remus's words send you over the edge, your pussy clenching down hard on his thrusting cock as you scream in ecstasy.

Your eyes roll back as you're slowly coming down from the high.

Remus watches your face as you come down from your orgasm, his eyes soft. He realizes he's still buried deep inside you, his pelvis pressed against yours. He pulls back slightly then slides in again softly. "You on birth control?" He asks hoarsely. You nodded

Remus lets out a sigh of relief, his arms wrapping around your legs as he holds you close. "Good." He starts moving again, this time at a slow, gentle pace. He looks up at James and Sirius, who are both watching with hungry expressions. "You two want a turn?"

You look over and see how hard they both are.

Both James and Sirius have bulges in their pants that are impossible to miss. James is sitting on the armchair, adjusting himself discreetly, while Sirius is standing nearby, his pants tenting out visibly. They both nod eagerly at Remus' question.

"Wanna finish in My mouth?" I asked looking up at Remus.

Remus' eyes nearly cross at the suggestion, and he groans deeply. "Fuck... yes." He slowly pulls out of you, his cock glistening with both your juices and his precum. He moves to sit on the edge of the chair, stroking himself slowly.

You get on your knees in front of him, You slowly start stroking him as you start to lick the tip in circles.

Remus throws his head back with a loud moan as you lick and stroke his sensitive cock. His hand tangles in your hair, guiding you as you take more of him into your mouth. James and Sirius move closer, watching intently as you suck Remus off.

You lick the underside from base to tip

Remus let out a ragged groan, his hips lifting slightly off the chair. "Fuck..." James leans against the back of the chair, his hand sliding down to adjust himself again. "Bloody hell, she's good at that..." Sirius kneels down beside you, whispering,

You start to such it bobbin your head up and down

*Sirius whispers, "Let me help." He reaches out and grabs your hair, guiding your head to take Remus even deeper. You gag slightly as his cock hits the back of your throat, but Sirius holds you in place, making sure you keep sucking. "That's it, love..."

You start to fondle his balls as you deep throat him

Remus groans loudly, watching as you take almost his entire length down your throat. His hips lift slightly to meet your mouth, his balls tightening from your touch. James mutters, "Shit, she's going to make him come fast..." Sirius nods, "Use your tongue..."

You start to make circles around it with your tongue

Remus lets out a high-pitched moan, his whole body shaking as he gets close to the edge. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." He starts thrusting his hips, fucking your mouth hard and fast, his cock sliding in and out of your throat rapidly. "Gonna... gonna cum..." You start speed up the pace.

Remus suddenly stiffens, gripping your hair tightly as he explodes in your mouth with a loud groan. His cock pulses, shooting thick ropes of cum directly down your throat. "AHH FUCK..." He jerks his hips erratically, making sure every last drop ends up inside your mouth.

You swallow it all

Remus slumps back against the chair, panting heavily as he watches you swallow every drop of his cum. James and Sirius whistle lowly in appreciation, both sporting impressive erections that strain against their pants. "Bloody hell, she swallowed all of it," James remarks incredulously.

End of pt 1

[themuseofaphrodite]

santa doesn’t know you like i do ✧ MV33

summary: it’s christmas eve, and your boyfriend, max verstappen — a notoriously bad gift giver — still has not told you what presents he had bought you. unbeknownst to you, however, he has found the wishlist you jokingly wrote to santa, and is planning a heartwarming surprise for his beloved.

trigger warnings: suggestive & mature content, swearing

word count: 1.1k

note: phrases and sentences in the dutch language are utilized throughout; keep a translator accessible

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Dear Santa, the letter began, I know that I’m almost twenty-three years old, so writing a letter to you is kind of foolish, but I still believe in the magic of Christmas, even if you aren’t real. This Christmas, I’m not really expecting much. My boyfriend, Max Verstappen, buys me anything I ask for, no matter what time of the year it is. He’s the best partner I could ask for. But the reason why I’m writing this letter is because he is clueless when he has to pick out gifts on his own, without my assistance.

So, before I go off on a tangent talking about how bad his solo gifts have been — do I have to mention the knitted red socks or lavender flavored gumballs? —, these are the things that I’m most looking forward to hopefully seeing under the Christmas tree.

A new set of lipsticks, because mine is really old and running out. I didn’t want to ask Max to buy me one, because I feel bad making him pay for anything.

The new rose gold spade necklace from Chanel. I saw it in a display case at the store in Monaco, and I was itching to purchase it. It’s really beautiful.

And last, but not least, a carton of Ferrero Rocher chocolates, the ones in the golden wrap and the crunchy nuts. My mouth is salivating just from thinking about it.

I know that there’s probably no point to writing this letter since you’re not exactly a living, breathing person, but a part of me hopes that your magic might help figure some of the kinks in Max’s terrible gift-giving skills out.

After writing the letter, you ended up throwing it away in the trash. It was such a waste of time, you thought. What in the world possessed you to do this? You were a busy woman, working for Red Bull as a PR manager. There was never a quiet moment. That was how you and Max had met: you were assigned to aid Liam Lawson in figuring out any media scandals, but as soon as Max had laid eyes on you, he’d immediately ordered Christian Horner to switch you to helping him out.

You were unsure of him, how aggressive and competitive he was. He wouldn’t shy away from direct confrontation, and that terrified you, since the idea of verbally arguing with someone made you nauseous. But so far, eight months into the relationship, you and Max had not had a single fight. He was loving, patient, and kind, willing to hear your side of the story every single time, even if he looked like he was about to flip a table. (This usually happened in PR meetings: you never argued outside of work.)

This would be your first Christmas together, and you were nervous. You knew what to get him: a new Red Bull team shirt and a pair of matching scarves that had colorful cats printed on it. It was purr-fect, and you knew that Max would — hopefully — love it.

Max entered the room, his steps hurried as he typed away on his phone and let out a big huff in frustration. You leaned against the wall, watching him as you sipped your chocolate-flavored boba tea. “Hey, is everything all good, mijn leeuw?” you asked, tacking on the Dutch pet name that fit your boyfriend perfectly. He was a lion, loud and courageous…especially in bed. Your cheeks heated at the thought.

Max looked up from his phone, his mouth a little open in confusion. “No, I’m OK, liefde. Just…fucking delivery people, not being on time.” Your eyebrow quirked, and Max shook his head. “And no, for the seventh time, I will not tell you what I’m getting you for Christmas. I know your birthday might’ve been bad, but I promise this time I’ll be good. Ik hou van je, schat.”

“Ik houd ook van jou,” you responded. “But I think I have every right to be concerned.”

Max rolled his eyes, walking over to where you were and placing one arm above your head, effectively locking you in place. “It will be fine. Don’t worry your pretty head about it, hm?” He grinned, kissing you on the forehead. “And if it does end up wrong, I’ll fuck you really well to make up for it.”

You blushed, averting your gaze away from him. “Max.”

“It’s true.” He released his hand from the wall, moving a dozen inches apart from your face. “Geloof me, lieverd.”

You bit your tongue and didn’t respond.

The next evening, also known as Christmas night, you and Max were preparing to open your presents. Your stomach was like a swarm of butterflies, you were so nervous to see what was in store for you under the tree. Max, however, was the epitome of ice-cold, his face betraying no hint as to what he may have purchased.

“Your turn first, engel.” Max motioned for you to select your first gift, and with shaky hands, you began to unpeel the small, square-shaped package. Finally unveiling it, you realized what it was: the rose gold spade Chanel necklace you’d been wanting for so long.

“Max! Oh my God, jij bent de beste!” you cried out, hugging him tightly and making him crack up in laughter. “How did you know?” you asked as you pulled away, but Max shrugged his shoulders.

“I just know things, liefde.” It was now Max’s turn to select his first gift, and he chose the nondescript package that held the colorful cat scarves in them. You suppressed a smile, watching as he carefully cut through the gift wrapping and sifted through the gift paper. His face broke out in a large smile, his blue eyes gleaming with happiness. “Cat scarves? This is adorable!”

“I hoped you would like it,” you said, beaming back at him. You shifted your position to pick up another gift; this time, it was heavy and rectangular. An inkling of suspicion wormed its way through you as you met Max’s gaze. “If this is what I think this is… Thank you.”

It was, in fact, a new set of lipsticks, just like you had written in your letter to Santa Claus. Somehow, Max must have found the letter and bought everything that you’d put on the list.

“You deserve it,” Max responded, pulling you close to him after you both had finished unwrapping the presents. “You’re the love of my life, Y/N. I owe you the world.”

You kissed his temple. “You’re the most incredible partner I could ever have.”

“Merry Christmas, hart van mij.”

Needless to say, you paid Max back for the thoughtful presents all night long. It was a Christmas you’d never forget, and you sent up a silent thanks to the magic of Santa Claus for having it all work out.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Could I possibly request some headcanons for a Ford x Reader x Bill. Maybe Bill is trying to possess the reader to get to Ford or something?

𝚂𝚞𝚛𝚎! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎-𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚗, 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝-𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚕 (𝚊𝚔𝚊 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝���𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 "𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐", 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚕. 𝙸𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜!!

Bill x reader x Stanford

Bill views you as a perfect gateway to get to Ford. He knows Ford cares about you, and that’s exactly what makes you the ideal target.

Every night, Bill starts showing up in your dreams, trying to plant doubts in your mind about Ford, how much you can trust him, and who he really is

"Oh he didn't tell his own partner about this? Strange... Wonder what else he's keeping from you..."

Ford is def not really one to give compliments or physical affection, def too wrapped up in work, bill would play into that, probably complimenting you or whatever so you feel closer to him then Ford altogether.

Would start trying to manipulate you into a deal, charming you, pulling at strings, placing doubts into your mind of who you can really trust etc.

"Look kid, you can trust me, I can help you, and you can help me, just a small deal"

If you do actually make a deal with him, he'd maybe try to take things slowly, popping in time to time on your own terma, either way Ford would def start picking up on the signs

Ford would start to notice something is off with you. He catches glimpses of you behaving strangely, maybe staring off into space or saying things that don’t sound like you. He would ask you about it all the time but you would probably dodge the question.

Bill eventually makes his move. One day, while you’re alone, he tries to fully take control. He would laugh at you looking horrified as he denied you access to your own body.

When Bill goes to Ford in your body he would immediately be able to tell somethings up.

Then bill would probably drop the act to Ford.

"C'mon sixer, we had something special, you and I. Why not work together? You could have the world in the palm of your hand"

Ford gets Bill out of your body one way or another or whatever

In the aftermath, Ford might show a more vulnerable side of himself, telling you more about Bill, what happened between them etc

Cuddles and kisses afterwards while bill watche's jealously lol.

If these weren't to your liking pls tell me!!

[miguelsslvt]

MOTHERR!!

I have a raging NEED for brat reader. Honestly just tiny things that reader thinks nothing of but miggy (miguel) is actually keeping tabs and when reader gets to a certain number or just does something to piss miggy off you get a punishment 🤭

brat tamer! miguel x bratty! reader smut

word count: 2.17k

TW: spanking, punishment, NSFW, smut under cut, possessiveness (???), use of ‘girl’ and ‘pussy’, y/n is a bratty icon

A/N: can u notice i got a bit carried away? happy kinktober!

Miguel wasn’t a pussy. You knew that for sure. He never backed down on anything, whether that be a bet, or a dare, or a fight, or even his girlfriend.

He knew having a girlfriend like you would be a challenge for him, and to be honest, he liked a challenge. being a man of his age, he didn’t do too well with easy girls. Girls who would do anything for Miguel. That gave him the ice, thinking of a girl willingly doing what Miguel wanted. No. He didn’t want that.

He wanted a girl that could bite back. A girl that could tease, and whine, but make it look good. he realised that when he met you.

You, who would go out of your way just to make a snarky comment towards Miguel, you whine when he puts you on a particular mission with a spider totem you didn’t like. You, who would roll your eyes when he told you to bend over, or when you would scoff and even laugh at him after he told you to behave.

But, at the end of the day, what he loved most, was every time he told you to do something, you would end up doing it at the end. He liked that. Knowing that he was the only one you would actually listen to. He felt powerful, knowing that such a pretty thing like you would always end up falling under his little traps.

That was until today.

it all started in the morning, when you were latching onto him like a koala as he got ready. ‘Don’t go today miggy, can’t we just stay home?~’ you whined, causing Miguel to sigh. ‘We can’t, hermosa. The multiverse is in da-‘ ‘my pussy is in danger!!’ you whined, causing miguel to raise an eyebrow. ‘How can your pussy be in danger?’ He asked, you smirked. ‘negligence.’ You said, as he scoffed. ‘We had sex less then 9 hours ago-‘ ‘that doesn’t matter!! Please miggy~’ he ended up having to drag you off him and took you to work himself that day.

But oh, it didn’t stop there. All day, you would find pets and small excuses to go into Miguel’s office to burden him. First you came in for paperwork, then to give more paperwork, then you came in to remind him lunch was soon, then you came in again to report an anomaly. Miguel knew what you were doing. I mean, you could easily call him or put the paperwork into holographic paper so he could access it easier. He knew you only came in to see him. he was tempted, truly, but he had a job to do.

‘Here again, hermosa? I might have to disconnect Lyla and make you my PA.’ he said, turning around to you, as Lyla appeared, scoffing in an over-dramatic manner. You just chuckled. ‘I could never replace someone as perfect as you Lyla.’ You said, as Lyla smiled, disappearing. ‘What are you doing here again exactly?’ Miguel asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘Well, you’re a smart guy miggy, I’m sure you know I just wanna see you!’ You said, Miguel sighed.

‘Sweetheart, you’ve been nagging me all day.’ He said, as you smirked. ‘I haven’t heard any complaints.’ ‘Well now you are.’ He said, sighing and putting his hands on your cheeks. ‘As much as I love you and your persistence, I can’t today. How about later, hm?’ He tried to compromise, which made you even more frustrated. ‘Later? ..hm. fine. I’ll wait later.’ You said, walking out and shutting the door. i’ll show you later. you thought, smirking and going into the cafeteria for lunch.

By 3pm in Nueva York, it was the prime of lunch in the spider HQ cafeteria. Miguel walked in, off to order something to help his growling belly, when he stopped and noticed you with hobie brown. You were touchy with Hobie, hand on his arm and sometimes even on his leg, giggling and talking away to him. You looked over to Miguel, smirking maliciously as you continued.

He knew what you were doing. You were trying to make him riled up. And it was fucking working. Lyla suddenly appeared beside Miguel. ‘Miguel, your heart rate’s sped up. Are you-‘ ‘I’m fine, Lyla. Help out spider-byte or something.’ He said frustratedly, walking over to you and Hobie.

‘Oh hi sweetheart! You don’t look too good..’ You teased, Miguel smirked bitterly. ‘I’m fine. How’s work?’ He said, as you smiled widely. ‘Oh it’s going great! Me and hobie have been bonding really good!’ You said, smiling. You could see Miguel’s jaw move, signifying his fangs have extended. You knew Miguel well enough to know he was fuming. Lyla appeared again.

‘Sir your heart ra-‘ ‘Lyla leave. Now.’ He said, as Lyla nodded, rolling her AI eyes as she disappeared. Hobie raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you alright mate? You don’t seem a-‘ ‘I’m fine.’ He said, looking at you. ‘I’ll see you at home, yes?’ He asked, eyes narrowing.

You smirked. ‘I dunno, me and hobie were talking about hitting the club toget-‘ ‘the club?’ He cut you off. You smiled ‘innocently’. ‘Mhm!’ you replied, Miguel smirked bitterly. ‘How about we have a nice little ‘chat’ huh honey?’ He said, as you smiled, standing up. ‘Mm no, I don’t think so. how about later, hm?’ you said, quoting what Miguel said before. He raised a brow. ‘You sure you wanna do take road?’ He warned, as you smiled warmly. ‘I’ve gotta go refill my drink. Talk to you later?’ You said, as he sighed, holding your arm lightly, but enough to pull you closer to him, his mouth next to your ear. ‘My office. 5 minutes.’ Was all he said, before walking away. Suddenly, he was hungry for something else.

————————————————————————————

As you walked in, you made sure to lock the door. You walked up to Miguel’s platform, his back facing towards you. You looked at his muscles, biting your lower lip as you remember the countless of times you would scratch that perfect back of his, as he made you scream of ecstasy.

‘Lyla, do not disturb until I turn you back on.’ He said, his voice in a low growl. Lyla nodded. ‘Yes captain!’ the AI said, wearing a sailor suit before disappearing.

You took in a deep breath, considering to apologise. fuck no, you thought. You got this far, might as well seal the punishment, right?

‘There a problem, sweetheart?’ You teased, putting your hand on his shoulder, massaging it. ‘You look tense..’ You whispered in his ear, as he took in a deep breath, turning around, looking at you. His eyes were hazy, filled with lust and desire. You tilted your head innocently.

‘Bend over the desk.’ He said in a low growl. You smirked. ‘Or what?’you teased even more. he tilted his head up, not taking his eyes off of you. ‘Don’t make me ask again, pretty girl.’ He said firmly. You just scoffed, doing as he said. You bent down, arching your back. He lifted your skirt up swiftly. ‘Safe word?’ He asked, as you rolled your eyes. ‘red. Now are you gonna be a little bitch and stand there or-‘ you got cut off by a large spank on your ass, as you gasped loudly, your hands holding onto the desk. ‘Count for me, princess.’ He teased, as you bit your lower lip. ‘Fuck y-‘ spank! ‘a-ah okay f-fine!! t-two..’ You said breathlessly, as he smirked. ‘You’re learning.’

spank! ’f-fuck! Three..’ You panted, your ass burning from the sensation of Miguel’s hands hitting it with such force. That’s another thing you love about Miguel. How he could punish you but you could still enjoy it.

’T-twenty!! Please.. p-lease Mig..’ You panted breathlessly. He rubbed your sore ass now, leaning closer to your ear. ‘Have you learned?’ He whispered, as you nodded quickly. ‘I-i’ll be good.. I’ll be so good for you..’ you whispered, as he sighed. ‘ah.. there she is.’ He whispered, his fingers going down towards your slit. ‘Just had to show you who’s boss again, hm?’ He teased, putting in one finger, causing you to gasp, trying to lean your head up, as he pushed it back down with his other hand. ‘Head down, hermosa.’ He said, as you whined a little. ‘You ready for another finger?’ He asked, as you nodded. ‘Y-yes just put it in already..’ You whined, as he smirked, waiting for it.

‘..please.’ you said eventually, as he chuckled, putting another finger in, causing you to hold onto the desk again, gasping in the burning pleasure. ‘Just have to fuck you dumb on my fingers to get you to listen, hm? You like it when you’re full of me?’ He teased, playing with your hair as he leaned to your ear again, placing sloppy kisses on your neck. You nodded. ‘y-yes.. you know I do mig..’ you whispered, as he smirked, going up to your ear once again. ‘Just wait till you’re full of my cock again. You think you can handle it?’ He asked, as you moaned loudly as he pumped his fingers deeper inside you. He smiled softly. ‘Silly question, I know you can handle me. You do it every time like the big girl you are, right?’ He asked, as you moaned breathlessly. He pulled his fingers out of you. ‘That was a question, love.’ He whispered, as you nodded. ‘Y-yes! I-i can take it.. i take it every time, you know I do..!’ you whined, as he smirked, looking at your lust-filled expression on your face.

Your cheeks were flushed, your mouth slightly agape as you panted, your hair messy and eyes half lidded. miguel could feel himself twitch in his pants. He put his two fingers in his mouth, licking them clean as he used his other hand to unbuckle his pants.

‘You ready?’ He whispered to you, as you nodded. ‘words.’ He said, as you looked up at Miguel through your lashes. ‘Just put it in you teasing fucke-‘ you got cut off by a loud moan, as he put his thick tip inside of your pussy. He smirked, watching all the frustration and fight fall out of your face. You bit your lower lip, whimpering. No matter how many times you two fucked, nothing could ever prepare you for the feeling of his cock inside you.

‘Where’s all that brattiness gone, hm?’ He asked, slowly sliding in inside you, letting out a quiet groan. ‘I could’ve sworn you were telling me about hobie brown just a few minutes ago..’ He teased, as you gasped, moaning. ‘H-he could never fill me like you can miggy.. o-only your girl..’ You reassured breathlessly, as he chuckled, leaning closer to your ear. ‘I know baby, I know. Only dumb for my cock, right?’ He cooed, as you nodded before gasping once again as he started pushing in and out. He held your hips in place, as you fell back onto the desk, your back arching into him, causing him to hit all the deep spots inside you. You were a moaning mess, as he watched as his pretty little brat fell apart on his cock. He felt his pride and lust coming out as he held onto her hair lightly. ‘Like it, hermosa? Like being fucked dumb, all you needed was a good dick down to shut up that filthy mouth of yours?’ He teased, as you were practically incoherent. You nodded mindlessly, as he smiled softly, chuckling in your ear. ‘Cant even hear a word I’m saying, can you? Only thinking about how close you are.’ He mocked, as you moaned again, tears spilling from your eyes as his pace sped up.

‘C-close!’ You said a few minutes later, holding onto the desk for dear life as Miguel drilled himself into you. ‘Yeah I know baby, can feel you tightening around me, you wanna cum? Hm?’ He asked, as you nodded. ‘Yes! please.. p-lease I’ll be a good girl.. I-i’ll be your good girl just please..’ You babbled, as Miguel just chuckled, shutting you up by putting his fingers in your mouth. ‘Talking too much, honey.’ He teased, as you moaned through his fingers. He felt your walls clamp around him, signalling your near. He sped up, chasing his own high as well as yours.

Soon enough, you came undone. You moaned loudly, eyes rolled back as you hit your euphoria, your walls spasming around Miguel causing his high to crash too. He grunted deeply, as he continued to thrust his load inside you. you felt his cum deep inside you, as you came back from your high, Miguel panting, giving you one last hard thrust as he finished.

He pulled out slowly, grunting quietly as he moved your jaw to look at him. Your face had that pretty blissed out expression, the one you usually got when you had been fucked dumb. good. Maybe that’ll teach you a lesson next time.

————————————————————————————

[neurodivenport]

literally need like chase nsfw alphabet so bad he is on my mind

i got u babe

@firelitsparks helped me & co-wrote a lot of this so big thank you!! ily

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he's definitely great at aftercare. he cares a lot about you and is over-worried about your wellbeing constantly, so much that he may go over the top with it sometimes. towel to clean you up, water to hydrate, maybe even a cold towel so you don't overheat. constantly asking if you need anything at all. i think as the relationship goes on he gets better at knowing the specifics of what you need, going less overboard.

as for receiving… he really gets off on getting taken care of, so aftercare is hard with him because he gets so easily turned on by it. y’all are definitely gonna have to go another round.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

i think chase’s favorite body part of yours is a tie between your boobs (if you have them) and thighs.

for boobs, he loves them no matter the size. he loves having his head between them, loves lying on them, loves having his hand under your shirt to just hold them. not even in a sexual way sometimes, just for the comfort and your warmth.

as for thighs- its similar. no matter the size, he adores being crushed by them. he’s taken lots of naps just laying his head in-between them. when you’re sitting down, he almost always has a hand on one of them.

his favorite body part of his own has to be his hands. he’s proud of how they contribute to science, how he can use them with his molecularkinesis, and how they handle his laser bo. he’s also incredibly proud of how easily they can make you come apart.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

honestly, with how cleanly chase is, i don’t think he likes cumming anywhere but inside you. he won’t mind it on your tummy or back, but he prefers it in your mouth or inside you. he thinks the act of cumming on your face is a little too degrading and messy.

he also likes how possessive the aspect of cumming in you is. you letting him mark you on the inside really defines that you’re his and it drives him crazy.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

multiple. we all know he can record things with his bionic eye and ears and put them in a hard drive, right…? i think thats pretty self explanatory 🫢

he’s also always wanted to try pegging, and has a bit of a size kink if you’re on the smaller side. he’s been bullied his whole life about being small, having a partner thats smaller than him would stroke his ego in a way he definitely wants to play with.

…he doesn’t want to say it, but he also wants to try some roleplay with him as a scientist and you as his subject.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i think when you start dating he’s not experienced at any aspect. he’s had a few people come onto him, sabrina for sure, but he’s never actually dated anyone, let alone had any sexual experience. it’s completely new to him.

however! he is a bionic genius. when your sex life starts out, i think he’s going completely by the book, searching every technical aspect he has about it in his hard drive. but it’s still flimsier, because he has to get used to the fact that everyones different. he takes the time to learn about what makes you tick.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

chase wants to have full access to every part of you. your face, your chest, your clit/dick, so he likes positions that give him that range. missionary, front to front smoothing and cowgirl are up there. he wants to see every little reaction on your face when he takes you.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he definitely takes it more seriously. he’s a romantic at heart, wanting to take his time to really make you feel good. if something funny happens he might crack a joke, but for the most part, he’s hyperfocused on how it feels for the both of you. the goofiest he’ll be is how lovey dovey he gets for you.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

super well groomed. he likes it all neat and tidy down there.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

chase has a hard time having sex with no romantic connection. it needs to be leveled with romance for him. intimacy is absolutely one of the pluses and what makes it so great for him. like i said before, this man is insanely lovey dovey for you, he’s the type to break out a shit ton of candles and rose petals.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

after the two of you start dating, he rarely jerks off anymore. he can barely get off without you close by. the only time he does is when he’s away for a while on time consuming missions, and even then, he calls you just to hear you talk him through it.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

I HAVE A WHOLE LIST HERE, but i think his top ones are absolutely voice and praise. he loves hearing you talk, saying anything, especially when you’re telling him how good he’s doing and how good he feels. he can’t count how many times he’s came just from you moaning for him.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

he is not that much of an exhibitionist. his favorite place is at home, in a bed, where he can take his time with you.

however, if he gets really fucking horny out in public, he’s down to do it at the nearest solitary environment possible. as long as no one can see you, he’s down to dick you down anywhere. y’all have definitely desecrated the lab on multiple occasions

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

literally everything you do. you touch him on the shoulder and his dick is hard.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

nothing that will hurt you. he’s too scared to lose you or scare you off, so i really can’t see him doing something that will endanger you, mentally or physically. sorry to my degradation girlies but i don’t think he’s into giving for that 🫣

as for himself, i don’t think he’d like being bound too much. a simple hand tie is fine with him, but after being strapped down to giselle’s table, he’s not down for anything more than that.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he loves giving. like i said, he fucking loves your thighs, and will gladly be in-between them any time and anywhere. he loves hearing you moan for him, and the knowledge that he can get you off with just his tongue sends his ego skyrocketing.

he will never say no to receiving either, but he rarely asks for it. he’s always nervous they’re doing it just for his sake. it also makes him cum faster than he’d like to admit. seeing you with his dick in your mouth is a little too much for him to handle.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it depends! he prefers taking his time with you for the most part, but when he gets close he tends to lose himself in you.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he doesn’t prefer them, but they’re kind of necessary for him with his mission schedule. like i said, he prefers to take his time with you.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he’s down to experiment with anything once, but is hesitant to try anything that might hurt you.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

…he’s bionic and trained in fighting. he can go for days. you’ve definitely never outlasted him without tapping out.

as for lasting, with you? he cums faster than he’d like to. you just drive him a little too crazy.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i don’t think he owned any before you, but he’s down to try them out. especially ones that could work with his magnetism app.

on the other hand, i can see him getting a little jealousy and preferring to just use what he’s got.

i can see him inventing his own toy for you to use while he’s away on missions, which was perfect, until he sees how much you enjoy it…

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

chase isn't unfair, nope, nope. he TRIES to tease you, but the very SECOND you tease him back or show your interest, he's becoming a subby mess. he can't even edge you more than maybe one time because the minute you beg him he's a bigger mess than you are.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

when you first start out, he tries to stifle his noises as much as possible for fear of embarrassment. but as soon as you tell him how much you love them, he lets them out, and he’s fucking loud.

he absolutely cannot shut up, and he’s full of just whimpers and whines. he almost sounds like he’s crying when he’s close to cumming.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he thanks you every time its over. without fail. he’s making you cum multiple times and he’s still thanking you for letting him do it.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

…he’s big. and he has no idea. he knows the average dick size, but in his brain, he’s not that big. so when you tell him he is, he’s a blushing mess.

7 1/2 inches and thick. he has you wobbly legged and sore after.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH. when he’s around you his dick gets harder faster than you can blink. he was a megavirgin before you, now he’s just addicted to feeling you. you’re in the grossest pjs ever and he wants you. he just got back from a mission and he’s literally limping and bleeding and he’s trying to get you to sit on his face.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

not super fast. he has bionic stamina, so it takes longer for him to get rid of that adrenaline. he’s content with watching you doze off peacefully on his shoulder.

[fanfic-obsessed]

I have a prompt for you, in light of the recent (very entertaining) DCU aus you've posted. If you were going to do a batfam-are-cryptids-but-now-the-justice-leauge-meets-them thing, how would you do it?

Have I told you thank you yet, @somestorythoughts, your prompts and responses make me so happy. Also I almost always end up with  more to write, which is fun.

Now back to the important part.

Fair warning, I screw with ages and timelines with this one. There is no canon here

I think, as far as a cryptid status is concerned this will be a ‘Batman is a founding, and funding, member of the Justice League, but has never revealed his identity’ kind of idea (with all the precautions therein to make sure even the metas can’t guess his identity). There is some speculation throughout the Justice League that Batman does not actually have a civilian identity, that he is the spirit of justice possessing a cape and cowl (Seriously there were three attempted exorcisms).  It is known that Batman always works alone, and that no one is to set foot Gotham, a few of the youngest members disbelieve that Gotham even really exists. 

However there are always rumors that can’t quite be dispelled.  No one in the Justice League can figure out the Watchtower’s firewall (designed by Oracle). Through the years there have been half heard conversations by the JL that almost sound like a wellness check after a fight, going either direction over a com line they can’t access. Sometimes during particularly difficult fights masked strangers will appear, most of which fight with styles similar to Batman, only to vanish again without a word. A few swear they have caught code names (Robin…or maybe Red Robin…Or was it Red Hood…no it was really Black Bat…there might be a BatGirl????) but no one can confirm anything.

In addition, it is impossible to quell the rumor that entering Gotham uninvited means you will disappear.  Not every time and no one can figure out the difference between being escorted out and vanishing, but there have been several heroes from the community who vanished after entering Gotham over the years.

What’s really happening is that I love the Young Justice Team and want a way for it to work with Cryptid BatFam. 

Two of the most notable, the first but certainly not the last, were Bart Allen, Impulse, and Cassie Sandsmark, Wonder Girl who entered the city limits together to try to prove that they too could be heroes. Both were 15 when they vanished.  Unknown to anyone else, at the same time an unnamed clone of Clark Kent and Lex Luthor was also sent into Gotham, as a test of some kind. 

All three of them, for different reasons, entered feeling abandoned or dismissed by the people around them. So when they encountered Tim Drake, as Robin, age 14; he called dibs and adopted them on the spot (Tim: These are my children Cassie, Bart, and the newly named Connor. Yes, I carried them in my very own womb and I am very proud of all of them. No, I will not accept questions. Batkids: Cool! Niblings. Batman<sighs>: At least tell me you didn’t kill someone to acquire them. Tim: I just told you, I birthed them myself).  So Cassie, Bart, and Connor are absorbed into the BatFam. Both Bart and Cassie decide against telling anyone where they are, with Connor not really having anyone to tell.  It should also be noted that the JL avoided asking Batman about the whereabouts of the kids who vanished after entering Gotham, they didn’t want to admit where the kids had gone. 

Three years later, Jason, as Red Hood (Jason did not die here, though it was close. He still took on the moniker of Red Hood after a beating by the Joker), age 19 happens upon Roy Harper, age 20 after Roy had a fight with Oliver and does the same thing. Only Jason dragged Roy home and introduced Roy home as his newest brother, giving Bruce a crazy look that said under no uncertain terms that Bruce better break out the adoption papers immediately; never mind that Roy was not underage.  

At the same time Raven, originally 26, was de aged to about 8 due to an attempted possession by her father, accidentally portals into Gotham and practically climbs Dick Grayson,age 22, in fear. The effects of the spell and the portal wiped her memories past her physical age.  So now Dick has a daughter as well, who he thinks is a Gothamite since he never saw the portal.  As far as anyone from Justice League Dark can tell there was a portal leading to Gotham where Raven disappeared but no one knows what happened (Batman and his family are looking for an adult Raven and never connected her to the 8 year old Rachel that became Dick’s daughter).

Others also disappear, having been adopted by the Waynes

What I am saying is that Gotham is considered quite a bit more dangerous to the caped community and the Batfam encompasses a few people it might not have otherwise. I think it would be funnier if Batman was not aware of his family's cryptid status (It never occurs to him that his kids have never been invited to join any of the younger generation teams).

Something sparks a partial return of Raven’s, now around 14 or 15, memory, enough for Rachel (who is the current Robin) to realize she is Raven. At her request, Batman announces this at a meeting and her intention to remain Dick’s daughter and Bruce’s granddaughter.  The JL react confusingly (they are all losing their collective minds at the thought that Batman has kids AND grandkids).  His response that one of his sons made him a grandfather when the boy was 14 does not inspire confidence.  Eventually, and I do mean this takes ages, it leads to the entire Batfam coming up to the Watchtower.  In spite of the masks Barry recognizes Bart, and after a moment the Wonder’s also recognize Cassie. Both had been desperately missed (the feelings of abandonment had been a misunderstanding).  Though the Wonder’s and the Speedsters both try to hug their missing members, it becomes clear that you can pry them from their mother, Tim, introduced as Red Robin, only when Red Robin is dead. 

The Speedsters look at each other, shrug, and immediately start lobbying Red Robin for Visitation (it does not matter that Tim’s kids are all adults with their own lives in Gotham). The Wonders do not have a chance to do the same as Connor, code name Agent C (he decided he did not want to be a field Vigilante, instead he has taken on a support role, like Alfred, where he is their Mechanic/Mechanical Engineer), drops the bomb that he is a Clone of Superman and Lex Luthor (Connor had not been told enough by the scientists at CADMUS to know what was going on, or even if Lex was aware his DNA was being used but of course the Bats did a DNA, he didn’t even know what the lab was called or where to find it).

Superman does make the connection to CADMUS labs, which he had shut down a few years earlier-though he never put those reports in the Watchtower computers as he considered it an internal matter (Batman would like it noted that all of the Batfam reports end up in the watchtower computer and is irritated that the other heroes do not do the same). 

Connor had been the only ‘viable’ clone but all the records (whether viable or not) had been stamped with ‘failure’, so Superman had not known that there should be a clone of him out there somewhere.  Also the intervening years of being able to process, ‘hey this person I knew, and was once friends with, stole my genetic material to try and create a new person without my consent or knowledge’ without having to deal with the results of said actions (Compounded by the guilt of not being able to look at this miniature version of himself without making the connection to his enemy Lex and his violation, knowing intellectually that it was not Connors fault for being created or that Connor was created specifically to be a weapon against Superman, but still not able move on emotionally, not enough to be responsible for a child) added to the fact that it is pretty clear that Superman does not need to be responsible for Connor means that superman can verify that Connor is happy where he is, which he is. Then Superman can, with a clear conscience-since Batman is undeniably paranoid enough to have a plan if Connor becomes a villain or an actual problem, offer to help with unexpected powers and have Connor meet the rest of his family. 

So Red Robin is simultaneously mediating the reunion between his three children and their other families, all the while ready to take down a Cape that breathes wrong in their direction. 

Red Hood, sans helmet but with a mask, is creatively and rhythmically cursing Green Arrow out on behalf of Roy (I want you to picture a Red Hood that practices and excels in the art of Flyting).  Green Arrow had made an immediate, and poorly phrased, inquiry into Roy sobriety.  Roy has been sober for almost 3 years. 

Damian, codename Firebird, is critiquing several of the last major fights and their fighters while having a discussion about blades and underwater fighting with the Aqua family.  He is also keeping a protective eye on Nightwing and Robin, who are facing off against JLD (who would like to see if what happened to Raven is reversible-mostly to make sure she is healthy and whatever happened is stable, Nightwing and Robin are taking it to mean they want Raven back instead of Robin). 

Steph as Spoiler, Cass as Black Bat, and Duke as Orphan are explaining to a largely horrified audience of former Titans the complicated legacy of the Batman, Robin, and Batgirl names in Gotham (The current Batgirl, Helen Wayne-12 year old daughter of Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne- is standing with Bruce and Alfred-mask firmly in place. She is new to the name and this is her first mission outside of Gotham). It is at this point that the Justice League finds out that there are a number of times when the Batman they dealt with was NOT the same person. Someone also brings up the rumor that Batman is actually a haunted piece of clothing, to the entire BatFams bemusement.

At no point during this process does anyone in the Batfam reveal their civilian identities (save the ones that are now known, like Bart, Cassie, and Roy).  They also do not admit to the fact that every single one of them steals and impersonates each other frequently (Tim holds the honor of having patrolled, handled an Arkham breakout, and met with someone outside of Gotham, and handled a world wide invasion in every vigilante identity from Gotham successfully).  

It also should be noted that this does not provide clarity to the Justice League about any topic regarding Gotham or its vigilantes.

[rebouks]

She knew-.. Robin was sure of it.

Despite her warmth, he’d always been slightly unnerved by aunt Alma’s presence; there was something odd about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Some people were harder to read than others, like Alex, but it was still possible.

Alma’s mind was like an impenetrable vault in comparison. Any attempts to feel or hear anything she did were met with a metaphorical brick wall, leaving him reeling as though he’d collided with it head first-.. but not tonight. Tonight, Alma was like an open book, and Robin was convinced she was doing it on purpose.

She’d told him all about her struggles as a child; how she didn’t fit in, how people teased her for being too sensitive, how hard it was to figure out who she was amongst the clamour of everyone else’s inner most image of themselves-.. all the while allowing him unlimited access to those very memories, like a handpicked blooper reel, just for him. Of course, that wasn’t the case though.. was it?

Alma had stopped talking now, but Robin still wasn’t sure how to react. He sat in silence instead, staring at nothing in particular for far longer than what could be considered normal.

“Can you hear me?” he thought, deciding to try a little experiment.

Nothing. Okay, so she couldn’t read his mind-.. then what the heck was she getting at? How had she so succinctly summed up his entire existence in less than fifteen minutes?

“I would’ve liked somewhere as quiet as this when I was young, it’s a shame we didn’t have an attic…” Alma offered, clearly trying to relate to Robin’s situation in any way she could. He still wasn’t entirely sure why, but she clearly wanted to help, and Robin didn’t know anyone else who understood him as well as she did, so perhaps he ought to let her try. He finally abandoned his switch and cautiously joined her atop his favourite, motheaten couch.

“What’re you getting at?” he said bluntly, curiosity getting the better of his manners. Alma chuckled softly, “You’re just like your father.” “It’s genetics, apparently…” Robin let loose a brief grin, glad to be compared to Oscar.

“I don’t know how exactly, but you’re different, Robin-.. and I thought it high time you knew you weren’t alone, and that we can’t let these things get the best of us.” Alma smiled softly as she spoke, but Robin was still too wary to be completely transparent. “We?” he asked, dubiously. “We’re few and far between, but you’re certainly not the only one who’s a little.. special, shall we say? That’s better than different, maybe?” Alma suggested.

Robin hummed thoughtfully, shaking his head, “Special is just another word for different, or weird.” Alma scoffed playfully, “And what’s wrong with being weird? I’m weird-.. we’re all a bit weird!”

“How’re you weird?” Robin asked, squinting at Alma accusingly. “Well, I can sense things I certainly shouldn’t be able to.” Alma started, excited to be getting somewhere. “Emotions radiate from people like a space heater-.. they’re not always pleasant, of course, but I can soak them up if I want to.”

Robin blinked, “Only if you want to..?” “Uh-huh.” Alma nodded. “You can block it out?!” Robin spluttered, suddenly and completely forgetting to maintain his ignorance before swiftly correcting himself. “I mean-.. it sounds like you can pick and choose, right?”

Alma nodded once more, “It wasn’t easy, but I spent a lot of years practicing.” “Years?” Robin sounded crestfallen. “I didn’t have a mentor…” Alma winked.

Robin allowed himself to smirk, figuring he might as well drop at least part of the act at this point. He was still a little nervous about being approached about such things so brazenly, but at least he knew why Alma perturbed him so much now, she was blocking him out on purpose-.. and she couldn’t read his mind either, which was always a plus.

The last thing he wanted was for anyone to know that he possessed that particular ability. Who’d want to hang out with someone who could access their inner most thoughts, the one’s they’d never dream of saying out loud? He shuddered involuntarily, hoping he’d never meet anyone that could read his.

Clementine finally nudged Robin, dragging him back to the present with her ghostly touch. “She looked right at me just then-.. she smiled! Did you see?” Robin spun around, realising that Alma had almost begun her descent. He must’ve missed her goodbye. “Wait!”

Alma paused expectantly, causing Robin to second guess himself and retreat into silence. “I won’t be far, sweetheart-.. whenever you’re ready.” Robin shivered as Clementine poked him again, “She can definitely see me…” “Can you, uh-…”

“See the ghost poking you?” Alma giggled, sounding far younger than she was. The vault doors had snapped shut again by now, but Robin got the impression that aunt Alma was just as excited as he was to find someone else who was weird. “Can you hear her?”

“Maybe-.. though I’m quite sure she hasn’t said anything yet.” Alma peered at Clementine expectantly. “Hey!” Clementine exclaimed as Robin tried to shove her into action, his hand ending up halfway through her waist instead.

“What? It’s not like you can feel it.” Robin snorted. Alma laughed heartily, thoroughly amused. “Well, I heard that-.. you two are good friends, huh?”

Robin nodded slightly, releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “I thought I was the only one who could see her-.. that maybe I was going insane…” “Far from it, honey! You hit me up whenever you feel like it, okay?”

Previous // Next

[beardedmrbean]

The apparent head of a radical transgender cult linked to six killings, including a U.S. Border Patrol agent, told a Maryland judge last week, "I haven’t done anything wrong" while pleading for access to vegan food behind bars.

"I might starve to death if you cannot answer me," Jack Amadeus LaSota, 34, who goes by "Ziz," told Judge Erich Bean during a bail hearing in Allegany County District Court in Maryland on Feb. 18, according to audio obtained by the San Francisco Chronicle. "I need the jail to be ordered for me to have a vegan diet. It’s more important than whatever this hearing is."

During the hearing, LaSota said at another point that releasing him on bail "may be a matter of survival if I don’t get vegan food. . . . I haven’t done anything wrong. I shouldn’t be here."

He continued, saying that he might be in a "mild state of delusion" due to a lack of vegan options in the Allegany County Detention Center and that he is not a flight risk since he is homeless.

ZIZIAN LEADER JACK LASOTA: WHO IS TRANSGENDER, VEGAN CULT HEAD LINKED TO BORDER AGENT KILLING?

LaSota and two other reported Zizian members, Michelle Jacqueline Zajko, 32, of Media, Pa., and Daniel Arthur Blank, 26, of Sacramento, Calif., were arrested on Feb. 16 in Maryland.

LaSota and his affiliates face multiple charges, including trespassing and possession of a handgun. Their arrests brought attention to the "Zizian" cult – a group of radical young people who mostly identify as transgender, who are known for their affinity for veganism and their link to violent killings.

The Zizians' violence was most recently linked to the Jan. 20 killing of Vermont Border Patrol Agent David Christopher Maland, 44.

During the hearing, Allegany County Attorney James Elliott described LaSota as someone who "appears to be the leader of an extremist group known as the Zizians. That group is tied to multiple homicides."

"It’s important to note Mr. LaSota has ties to Alaska, California, Vermont, [and] Pennsylvania at this point that the state is aware of," he said.

Fox News Digital has reached out to LaSota's public defender in Maryland, Rebecca Francoeur-Breeden.

Prosecutors in Vermont have charged one of LaSota’s associates, Teresa Youngblut, 21, in connection with a shootout that left Maland dead.

Youngblut was driving with German national Felix Bauckholt, also a reported member of the "Zizians," when the pair were pulled over by federal agents on Interstate 91 in Coventry, Vermont. According to police, the two opened fire on agents. Bauckholt was killed, and Youngblut was wounded. Youngblut has pleaded not guilty in the case.

Youngblut and Bauckholt used weapons purchased in Vermont by Zajko, authorities previously said.

VERMONT BORDER PATROL AGENT ALLEGEDLY KILLED BY GERMAN NATIONAL WORKED IN PENTAGON DURING 9/11: FAMILY

Zajko is also a "person of interest" in the 2022 deaths of her parents, Richard and Rita Zajko, in Media, Pa. No one has been charged in their killings, according to authorities. 

The group exhibits cult behavior, according to Dar Dixon, an actor and the podcast host of "The Art of Being Dar," who shared his cult expertise with Fox News Digital. 

"The thing that I noticed about this ‘Zizian’ cult is that it hits all the major points that will set somebody up to be involved in it. You've got transgender human beings, alright? You're dealing with sexuality. You're dealing with sexual identity, and you're dealing with sex. Anytime you do all those things, you've already got someone, as they say, by the tight and curlies," he said. 

"The second thing is they were on a restrictive diet. In this case, they were vegan," he said. "So, when you start to mix in the sexual aspect, then with a restrictive diet, now what you're doing is behavior control."

Referencing cult expert Steven Hassan's BITE Model of Authoritarian Control, Dixon discussed how cults emotionally control their members.

"I'm sure there was a lot of sleep deprivation going on, also, which affects your thoughts, which affects your emotions, which also affects your behavior and your ability to take in and process information," he said.

"This is part of the emotional control. You're never allowed to feel your feelings or to discuss your feelings. If you don't step in line with the party line, you're immediately reprimanded, sometimes severely, either verbally or physically, or you're shunned."

"So, the culmination of sexual identity, food restriction, sleep restriction and emotional restriction, well, now I've got you," he said. "I own you. And I can take you any direction I want to take you now."

[moniibu]

༄ ‧₊˚ !YAN FEM OMEGA X !DOM FEM ALPHA READER •°. *࿐

things to watch out for: yandere themes, obsessiveness, possessiveness, light stalking

word count: 621

this is a LESBIAN post, so MEN & MEN ALIGNED PEOPLE DNI.

summary: not really a summary but i saw a couple of yandere omega posts and wanted to see a lesbian version. i didn’t really get into the “dom” part but i might make a part 2 idk.

also, requests ARE OPEN !! hope you enjoy ༄ ‧₊˚ !YAN FEM OMEGA X !DOM FEM ALPHA READER •°. *࿐

༄ ‧₊˚ !YAN FEM OMEGA •°. *࿐ who fell in love with you the moment she laid her eyes on you. you had been running late for work and wanted a quick latte.

you weren’t like the other alphas. she knows her scent is strong and you didn’t bat an eye as she asked you questions about your drink. you didn’t ask her if she had an alpha at home or other questions that made her annoyed and uncomfortable like other costumers do. you simply thanked her and left.

༄ ‧₊˚ !YAN FEM OMEGA •°. *࿐ who now awaits for your arrival. she has memorized the day and time you usually come in and has made sure that she is the only one who’s working the register that day just so she can see you.

༄ ‧₊˚ !YAN FEM OMEGA •°. *࿐ who is ecstatic when she finds out that you two have a shared friend. now she can find out details about you that she may be able to use to get into your good graces.

༄ ‧₊˚ !YAN FEM OMEGA •°. *࿐ who after convincing her friend, finally gets your number! she’s so happy she finally has a way to access you!!

she finally has found out information about you that you have given to her yourself! she’s so happy that you trust her enough to share it with her.

she loves the friendship that she has created with you. she loves the fact that she can now be in your space with your consent rather than having to do it at night. she loves all the inside jokes you two have made, and how close in contact she can be with you!

she loves being your friend, and while she wishes she could take it to the next level and be your omega, she’s happy with what she has. she wouldn’t want for it to be awkward and lose you forever, that’s the last thing she wants!! :(

༄ ‧₊˚ !YAN FEM OMEGA •°. *࿐ who tríes to embody the type of omega you want. you’re exactly her type down to a t, and after finding out that you’re single, she’s desperate for you to pick her out of all the other omegas.

she’s the best omega so please pick her! she can be the perfect housewife for you and will be a wonderful wife. all you have to do is give her the chance, believe me, she’ll take it!!

༄ ‧₊˚ !YAN FEM OMEGA •°. *࿐ who is outraged when she finds out that there’s an omega that you’re talking too. what do you mean there’s someone else? she thought what you two had was special. you’re her alpha, and she’s your omega. she won’t let anyone take it away from her, especially some brat who thinks that they can take her place.

༄ ‧₊˚ !YAN FEM OMEGA •°. *࿐ who begins to stalk you. she begins to follow you home, just so you can be safe. she doesn’t want that other omega to show up, and what better way for that to happen is for her to be in the moment so it doesn’t become real.

༄ ‧₊˚ !YAN FEM OMEGA •°. *࿐ who begins to dote on you and scent you as a claim. you like bringing your own lunch to work? well now you have someone making you bento-like lunches that was obviously made by someone else. you like looking nice as you head into work? she’s here to iron your suit and help you put on your tie before you head out the door, scenting you while she does it.

༄ ‧₊˚ !YAN FEM OMEGA •°. *࿐ who tries to steer you away from other omegas. if you talk about wanting to find love then she’s there to try and convince you not to do it. if you want to go on a date with someone, she’ll try to make them look bad so you don’t go with them. she’s all you need, there’s no need for anyone else but her! if you do manage to find someone who says yes and doesn’t have any bad situations from their past? suddenly they want nothing to do with you and avoid everything and anything you do, text, or say to them.

but don’t worry, there’s an omega waiting for you at home who will gladly comfort you after a failed attempt at love.

༄ ‧₊˚ •°. *࿐ ༄ ‧₊˚ •°. *࿐ ༄ ‧₊˚ •°. *࿐ ༄ ༄ ‧₊˚ •°.

༄ ‧₊˚ •°. *࿐ ༄ ༄ ‧₊˚ •°. *࿐ ༄ ༄ ‧₊˚ •°. *࿐ ༄ ‧₊˚

this idea was made and created by @moniibu all rights are reserved to @moniibu and you are NOT allowed to steal or copy this work.

[am-i-interrupting]

As a Citlali fan and main, I feel Shame for not requesting this sooner, but how about an SFW relationship alphabet for her.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Oh, super affectionate. Especially in private. She is the most affectionate ever. In public? A little less so. A lot more standoffish. She has an image. That image is ruined when she’s drunk.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend?)

You know those two family members at every gathering that sit in the corner, judge everyone and gossip? That but constantly.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

She likes to squeeze you. Like her laying on top of you and squeezing your waist with her head in the nap of your neck is her favorite cuddling position, especially if you start running your fingers through her hair.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

She’s actually fairly good at keeping things organized and she’s had a lot of years to perfect her cooking. Now would she want to settle done? She wants stability but I don’t think she’d be the type to want kids of her own and for someone to be a stay at home parent. She loves her independence and she loves yours. Now, unintentional adopts are different but at least those are mostly adult age now and she can kick out of the house.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Through something well practiced. She might have a letter and just give that to you. She might make you sit down and will not allow you to interrupt as she gives a well rehearsed speech on how she feels. You have permission to ask questions afterwards.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

She yearns for commitment but is scared of it. It would take several years for her to even consider the idea of marriage. Definitely one of those “you seem to be moving slow, you’ve been dating for ten years already” and by that point, marriage isn’t even something she would get overly excited about because she’s already content with how things are.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

She is very gentle in both. In spite of her seemingly harsh delivery sometimes, she only does that because it helps her feel stronger in certain situations and she knows you can handle it because you know how she actually feels.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

At first, not much of a hugger because it’s been so long since she’s had one. Then she’ll come to cherish them. Hugging is not something she does often though. She has that light but firmness when it comes to hugs though.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

You’re saying it first. She’s not risking embarrassment of saying it too quick but I’d say after seven months or more of being together she thinks the words and they feel true.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

She doesn’t get jealous so much as possessive. When she trusts someone she trusts them pretty intensely. She has no reason to be jealous. When she gets possessive though she’s normally standing by your side or in front of you with her arms crossed and a cutting look. Unless she’s drunk. . . Unless she’s drunk, then that’s a whole in itself.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

If you kiss her hand she’s a goner. She will kiss your cheek or forehead more than anything. Her kisses are soft like snowfall.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Do not let her have access to any type of shoe. A bit harsh in comparison to some but more so in the “fine, do it anyway but don’t come crying to me” proceeds to hold said kid as they’re crying, completely stone faced and unbothered as she’s looking over her work.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Not a morning person. Will throw things at you if you speak to her too early.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Not a morning person because she spends too many nights awake the whole time. Most nights are spent in silence with shared drinks and reading. Occasionally one of you will speak when you get to a specific part of a book and then it turns into three hours of theorizing.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Not very open at first. She has very high walls. However, the will deteriorate quickly once she realizes you won’t judge her for it.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

She’s got a quick temper but not in a rash way. More so in a “how could you be so stupid?!” way where she hits you with something and then immediately goes into fixing something. She’s actually not quick to anger over little things though and most of it is theatrics.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

She remembers everything. Probably has a little journal filled with things about you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When you saw her and accepted her.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

She’s pretty capable. She’s appreciate the sentiment of you trying to protect her while also playing the “you didn’t think I could take care of myself?” card but she’s not actually mad. She is actually pretty protective of you though.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

All the effort. She will act like she didn’t put any in though and it’s actually not a big thing, don’t look at her like that.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

The biggest thing would probably be how contradicting her outward expression is with her inward perception. However, once you’re able to read her, it’s not much of a problem.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

She’s not overly concerned with her physical looks. Her perception by the public in terms of other things though cause her endless amounts of anxiety.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

No.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

She had poor circulation and often has to wear some type of compression clothing to get it to be somewhat proper.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Not a fan of people who brag without reason. There’s a healthy dose of confidence and then there’s just delusion.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Probably twitches in her sleep and is a bit of a sleep talker.

[britishraptor]

Gonna kick the hornets nest here, but the file from the most recent episode of The Magnus Protocol was incredibly underwhelming. It didn’t take into account at all anything that actually makes snakes scary, little to no foreshadowing, and basically attempted to jumpscare the audience with a reveal that reads more like a parody of a horror story than an actual one.

I might look like an idiot or a fool when everything all strings together later than the line, but I’m questioning so much about this episode.

Parasites are scary. Worms, and insects and mold and rot. Decay, possession. Spiders are scary because they’re hard to see, hard to pinpoint and they move fast, plus the connections with webs related to control, and manipulation. So yeah, a worm lady, sure, a person filled with spiderwebs, also sure. But the only connection between snakes and parasitism could be a joke about ‘shedding your skin’ or how disturbing that one scene in Harry Potter was.

Snakes are scary for two reasons:

1) the same reason bears and tigers all that are scary. Hunt style being hurt, and killed, and eaten. Simple.

B) uncanny valley reasons. Snakes don’t blink. They don’t have facial expressions. The way they move and eat and exist is totally different from humans and mammals. They’re often described as alien and cold.

My questions:

a) why rodent control? why was he even actually brought in? His walls are FULL OF SNAKES. It wouldn’t have lasted five minutes. It doesn’t make any sense even if you know he was concerned about parasites. Snakes don’t give a shit about other snakes. To call someone a snake is to literally call them callous and prone to betrayal. A snake eats the rodent, so you kill the snake. Plus a snake store would have access to medications to kill mites and deal with snake illness? Why call the guy at all?

b) the foreshadowing on the owner is terrible. You could have mentioned his skin needed moisturising. That it seemed dry, flaky. Scaly. But just. A red rash? A rash? Are you saying being full of snakes is an infectious disease? That’s what he said at the end, right? That his throat itches. It was swelling. You can just?? Grow your own snakes?? Is that the implication?

No uncanny valley mention on the owner either at all. He didn’t move weird, being full of snakes? Didn’t sway or limp as he walked, didn’t move sluggishly? Bad hearing, didn’t know what to do with his hands? No? Just a short tempered customer. Okay.

c) You lost me at the thousands of snakes. THOUSANDS? What is this, a clown car? A snake clown car in some random guys skin, who explodes because he was mad a customer walked out.

Look, I’m Australian. And when I ask my friends ‘hey, how big do you normally picture a snake being?’ we picture snakes about 1.5m long. Dinner table length is pretty common for all of our common brown, tiger snakes, red bellies, and even longer for our common carpet pythons. But even if I adjust to like, other countries’ grass snakes, thousands?

The throwaway line at the end was plot relevant I’m sure, but I’m all around confused, and totally not even a little bit scared.

The only praise I have is that the description of the crickets was very creepy, and I loved the visual of them moving around like a shuddering wave of pixels on a screen, only really perceived by their screaming.

But yeah. The setup, the foreshadowing, the coherent theming and consistency all just fell totally flat for me. The only thing I learnt was that this guy applied to the institute and was rejected, and that snakes can’t do dishes.