#oscar harem

[chiefatticcreator]

Ask (RWBY): Has Oscar been enjoying the sex lessons that Jeanne (R63!Jaune) has been giving him?

"Her lessons are really fun!" the farmboy nods, excited, still flushed and breathing a bit hard from having just gotten out of the latest one. "She really does her best to teach me how to fuck well, she's fun, nice, really pretty..."

He blushes a bit deeper for a moment.

"But I think mrs. Goodwitch is the better sex teacher. But Jeanne's lessons are more fun."

[mctwinkdom]

saw this tweet, how accurate 🥺

[rene-spade]

my man isn’t creepy! i | f1 grid

growing up leclerc au !

fem! leclerc! reader x f1 grid, leclerc family

part i: carlos sainz, daniel ricciardo, oscar piastri, pierre gasly & kika gomes

synopsis. when the youngest leclerc finds her partners’ ‘shrine’ of her, but she’s a leclerc so the red flags aren’t all that red

WARNING(s); i like em crazy y’all, obsessive/possessive behavior, implied stalking/shrines, unhealthy relationship dynamics, sexual implications but no smut

carlos sainz.

“What is it?” You asked, head tilted to the side as you look up at your boyfriend. The Spaniard melted, muttering a curse to himself and running his hands through his thick hair. He felt hot, nervous for what the outcome of this discussion could be.

“Dios mío, ángel, it’s— it is not what you think— nothing bad. I am just embarrassed is all.” He reassured, big hands gripping at your shoulders. But he knew it was a bit bad, even his enabling family members were worried he’d freak you out if you saw. His movements were made to comfort you, but you could tell they were more self-soothing. Arthur had a similar habit whenever you got upset with him, too.

You only frowned, but it fueled Carlos’ panic.

“Mi amor, I will do whatever you ask-! You know this. I will let you in when it’s cleaned, I swear it.” He pulled you into his chest, arms fully embracing you. But you squirmed out of his hold, making him respond with an unhappy attempt to coo you back into comfort.

“You’re hiding something in there, Carlos. This is the first time I’m staying with you in your home since we started dating, let me see.” And at the sight of your big, beautiful, angry eyes, how could he refuse an Angel? With a twitch of his fingers, Carlos unlocked the door without any movement to push it open.

With a short huff, you pushed yourself through the door, only pausing at seeing at the sheer amount of merchandise that covered every surface. It was all you-themed, from posters and cut-outs, down to a body-pillow and even an outfit you’d only worn once for a runway show. There was a glass shelf with your old perfumes, newer ones too, and photos everywhere.

“Carlos….” You began, covering your mouth with your fingers and stepping further in.

“I know—! But I liked you so much before we started seeing each other and I- I am just a passionate man is all, my whole family says so—!” You cut off his red-faced rambling with a beaming grin.

“Ouah! I didn’t know you were a super fan before we met!” You giggled, mumbling to yourself in French about the various things he’d collected. “maybe you are a bit extreme, but it’s kind of cute, no?”

“¿En serio? Sí, mi perla!” He breathed shakily before grinning, “I should have known you’d understand! Mis hermanas se burlaron de mí, ¿sabes? But it was all silly…” (You’re serious? Yes, my pearl! My sisters teased me, you know?)

“What are you saying? Your sisters… something? I’m still learning, mon chéri.” You pout at him, in a much better mood now that you knew what your boyfriend was hiding behind the door he seemed so desperate to keep you away from.

He shook his head, hair messy after having run his fingers through it many times due to stress, “We should have dinner with them tonight while we’re still in Spain, I said. Let’s go back downstairs?”

“Why? Got anything weird?”

“Don’t say things like that, amor!”

♤ ♤ ♤

daniel ricciardo.

“Danny…?”

“Shit-!” He jumped out of surprise, dropping the box he was reaching from the top shelf of the closet.

“Oh, I’m sorry, mon soleil!” You squeaked, jumping back as well. You hadn’t meant to scare him, but it wasn’t your fault he was so focused in the dead of night. You were just curious is all. The box he dropped was was rectangular in shape, but easily bigger than a shoebox. You shot him a sleepy grin, “What do you have there?”

He sighed, shaking his head, “Why are you up, sleepy girl? Get back to bed, I’ll be right there. Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I’m up because you’re up.” You wrinkled your nose, inching closer to him with a small blanket in your arms. You tried to get a glimpse of what fell out of the box, but Daniel wrapped himself around you so you couldn’t see. He wrestled the blanket from your fingers, careful not to be rough with long nails, and threw it over your head with smile.

As you wrestled, your boyfriend only laughed and placed kisses on any part of you he could without being hit by your flying limbs, “Pretty things like you should be asleep. Your brothers would kill me if they knew I disturbed your beauty rest.”

“Are you trying to hide something from me?” You pulled the blanket off your head, hair a mess.

Daniel froze, jaw clenching as he tried to hold a toothy smile. But he didn’t have it in him to lie to you. The moment was completely still, before you finally broke eye contact and crept passed him to see the mess on the floor. You could hear Danny gulp as you plucked the first item from the ground; a pretty, navy blue set of lacy underwear. Yours, yes. But from ages ago, you swore you lost them. Then there were a few pieces of jewelry, a lipstick tube, a silk scrunchie, a press-on nail, a red heel, and two pieces of now-hardened chewing gum. All yours from various points of this past year.

“Daniel,” no, not the first name, he begged internally, squeezing his eyes shut, deciding to just wait for the inevitable disgust and rejection. You never called him by his full first name, only sweet ‘danny’s his way, sometimes ‘mon soleil’ or ‘sunshine’.

“You know you can just ask for my things, yes? You don’t have to take.” You were looking right up at him, navy colored panties still in your hand like you didn’t even mind that he took them. His reasoning couldn’t have been pure, you know that.

You hummed, pulling at his fingers so you can shove the underwear into his balled up fist, “lá.”

“Perfect girl.” He muttered, pulling you back into him and dragging you to bed, “give me the pair you have on then, yeah?”

♤ ♤ ♤

max verstappen.

It wasn’t always like this with you— you used to be just Charles “track terror” Leclerc’s pretty little sister, a little girl. But now it was years later and you’ve become something perfect and irresistible— something he can’t live without. He knows he’d resorted to some immoral, if not a little creepy, behaviors, but it’s not like he’s one of those guys that would ever hurt you. No, you’re a deity to him. He told his sister about his feelings at one point (even thought about showing her the shrine), but she told him— “This is all because you watched You!” The Netflix show that follows a stalker.

So he took down the shrine— moving most of it into his bedside drawer and the rest under his bed. But he realized he didn’t think it all the way through when he had you in his room for the first time; all pretty and perfect and curious.

“Good race, Maxie.” You hopped back onto the bed, your hair bouncing as you landed, “You’re so tense and for what, huh?”

Max had just a little bit of shame about the whole thing, but maybe not too much. I mean, his body definitely felt some kind of physical guilt or something if you’re judging him by the shaking and sweating— but his mind was happy. You were here with him in his home. In fact, the physical reaction might just be from seeing you curled up in his bed. But you’re close to finding out how… intense he was. (As his mother would say.)

“Sorry, lief, I’m just tired and you’re distracting me by being cute.” He smiled down at you as he began to change, “you need a shirt to wear?”

“Yes, s'il te plaît. Hey, can I put my bracelets in here—? oh!” He’d barely turned his back for a second, just long enough to remove his shirt, but that’s all it took for you to pull the drawer open and see the copious amount of photos of you (some edited to have him in them) and unsent love letters.

“It’s not a shrine— I’m not a creep! It’s just some things I made back before we got together—! You weren’t supposed to see them!” He was trying to shove some of the papers back in, but you were already skimming one of the letters.

“Mijn hart,” he winced at seeing the one you had— one of the more unhinged ones. The worst of it was in Dutch, so that worked out for him at least.

“Oh c’mon, Maxie! It’s kind of sweet! You had such a big crush on me! It’s a little hot, even.”

He grew even more red and fidgety at that, “Shit.”

You giggled at the words you could understand before he wrestled the page out of your grip. You grabbed him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before he could stray too far.

“From Max Verstappen-Leclerc, hm?”

♤ ♤ ♤

oscar piastri.

“Can’t I just grab a hoodie, Osc?” You questioned as he held you in place on the counter, from his spot between your legs, still in his race suit.

“You don’t need one, Lovey, it’s hot.” He pressed himself into you so he could feel you breathe better. You’d asked for a jacket the moment you’d entered his freezing trailer just after the race. He saw you go for the closet and quickly redirected you onto the counter.

“Non, you’re hot because you just raced in a little car for hours and now you’re all over me. I am normal temperature.”

“Cold?”

“Yes.”

“Then get closer, I’m hot.”

You huff obnoxiously like the pretty spoiled girl you are and Oscar can feel the rush of serotonin he got just from the sound. He knew this is the part where you’d get cute and pretend to pick a fight, his sweet thing. But bad timing— he’s desperate to hide his secret now.

“I can’t get any closer to you if I trieddd. What? You have a girl hiding in that closet? Hm?” He scoffed into your shoulder, but stiffened, knowing just what was behind that door.

You gasped dramatically, likely playing it up to get what you wanted (a tactic you used with your brothers, Oscar noticed), “You do! Irréelle!”

“I don’t!” His face shot up from your shoulder, brows furrowed, but he didn’t let you go, “You know I don’t like any other girls!”

“Then you need to show me so I can be sure! And I’m still cold.” You crossed your arms and pulled your knees together to get him to back up.

“I can’t.” He choked out. “There’s— it’s just— I have this thing—”

You hopped down and booked it across the trailer before he could reach out and stop you, yanking the door open to see what your new boyfriend was hiding.

You breathed out a dramatic sigh of relief at the sight, “Goodness, Osc.” Rather than finding a person, you instead found some sort of… collection? Collage of yourself and your things? Photos mostly, magazines, and lots of hearts drawn on articles about you.

Oscar grabbed you by the shoulders and quickly spun you around into him, slamming the door, “You saw?”

Looking up at him with big eyes, you nodded, “Yeah, why? You really like me that much?”

“What? Yes— yeah I do. You—? Okay.”

♤ ♤ ♤

pierre gasly. | kika gomes.

“I’m prepared to blame you for this if Charles finds it.” Pierre breathed, looking at the start of his girlfriend’s collection of your things. Kika scoffed, a smile playing at her lips as she re-organizes your makeup. Mostly lip balms, you’d let her borrow some of your things, not knowing she wasn’t going to give any of it back. Kika even managed to get a few skirts from you as well. The small framed photo of you sitting in her vanity was just a personal touch.

Pierre would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed, but he could say he wasn’t surprised. He and Kika were a good couple, a good duo in general, but especially when it came to drawing you in. Because Pierre was such a good friend to Charles, it came pretty easy; Charles was easier on him around you. Unfortunately, that grace didn’t extend to Kika just because they were dating. Charles had something of a sixth sense for when pretty girls liked his pretty sister; so he was on to Kika. Where at the beginning it was nothing to get you alone with them, it was now next to impossible.

“Pierre? Kika? Are you home?” Wow it’s like they could hear your pretty voice— oh wait they gave you a key. To their apartment. In Monaco, where you live and you can really just waltz in and see all of the things they took (—yes they, Pierre is a thief too—)

Like two naughty school children, the couple shot up to cover what they’d done before you could reach their bedroom. This was their fault naturally, none of yours at all, they were the ones who encouraged you to come over whenever physically possible.

“Grab everything and I’ll distract her!” Kika whispered, rushing to slip out of the room.

Before the ‘not fair-’ could slip from his lips, his girlfriend was off to catch you, brushing passed him and leaving the door cracked. He could hear your surprised greeting, a cute squeak escaping you, before Kika saying something like ‘Oh, Pierre is busy now’, then silence. Pulling the handle back just an inch, he peaked outside to see Kika’s lips not even a centimeter from your own, her hands gripping your jacket for dear life.

“Oh, pretty girls, ce n'est tout simplement pas juste.” Slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. Your eyes shot to his, but Kika’s remained trained on your face. After just a second, your gaze drifted to Kika’s vanity behind him.

The couple froze, you saw. Pierre pulled the door shut behind him as Kika’s mouth opened to form words.

“Oi! Get your hands off my little sister, huh? Démon impoli et pratique, seriously.” Charles slipped into the living room from the front hallway, having obviously accompanied his little sister in her visit.

“Non, Charlie, Kika helped me when I almost tripped.” You smiled at your brother, quickly covering for them, “I was just coming to see if I could get my jean skirt back?”

You looked up at her so sweet and she thinks you’re blushing—“Oh.” She squeaked, “yes, no problem. Pierre.”

“I’ll get it for her, mate.”

“surveille ta copine. je ne suis pas aveugle, mate.”

♤ ♤ ♤

Your man (s girlfriend) is definitely creepy, girl.

note; I made kika and pierres a lil longer bc they’re two ppl so yeah ft charles

thinking part ii with lando, mick (ft the schumachers), lewis, lance, alex & lily, george and carmen?

- ren

[origami-butterfly]

The things I do for this fandom literally no one asked for this

Edit: to all of you saying "healthy is a relative term" in reference to Jarthur. I know. I was going to give them a red and a blue line, but I forgot. It was a mistake. It happens.

[littlelewdmable]

Blake: Have you all noticed how kinky Penny is getting?

Jaune: Yep. I've lost count of how many times she's seduced me.

Ruby: It's every night for me.

Yang: I'm getting sore from all the screwing.

Weiss: I don't have the stamina to keep up with her.

Pyrrha: I think I might have accidentally corrupted some of her data the last time we did it. That might be why.

Nora: Nah, I think she was always going to be kinky, it was just a matter of time.

Ren: It's hard to resist.

Oscar: Honestly, I didn't get what all the hoopla with Penny was until she did the expanda-boob thing. Now I think I'm hooked.

Blake: So she's screwed everyone but me?

Ruby: She's probably just waiting for the bondage gear to get in before she does.

[brokentrafficknight]

Canon Ruby's already kind of a harem protagonist but still

[absoluteocellibehavior]

Detective Noel and Father Oscar are my favorite ✨boyfriends-in-law✨

[ktwritesstuff]

Nothing Else Matters (a Triple Frontier shifters AU) Chapter 6

Title: Nothing Else Matters Fandom: Triple Frontier Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Reader x Triple Frontier Boys reverse harem style Word Count: ~2,000 Summary: Tom's wake leads to a revelation for the pack.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 (below cut)

Notes: I don't know what else to say...

Technically speaking, you hadn’t been invited to Tom’s service, but you had never known a wake to require an RSVP.  The boys weren’t thrilled about you tagging along to Molly’s, but they agreed Frankie would watch the baby for a few minutes so you could say goodbye. You agreed not to stay for food or drinks or talk to anybody.  But by the time you arrived–for lack of a better term–things were already FUBAR.  The whole house reeked of a female in heat; you couldn’t help but recoil at the smell.  

Will and Frankie intercepted you in the front hallway.  You barely recognized one of their old army colleagues pitching his nose closed–blood staining the front of his dress shirt.  Benny held an ice pack wrapped in a kitchen towel to a sizable lump blooming over the man’s temple, his own knuckles bloody and bruised.

“What the hell happened?” you whispered, handing Luna over to Frankie who seemed all-too-happy to have an excuse to get out of the house.  

“It’s Tess,” Will sighed.  

The pronouncement caught you off guard although you shouldn’t have been surprised.  A heat cycle could be exacerbated, even brought on by stress.  In young females it could be particularly difficult.  It wasn’t the way you would have chosen to bring Tess into the pack, officially, but you couldn’t help but be pleased by the prospect of having another female to balance out the pack.  And with Tom’s lineage, she’d certainly give the boys a run for their money.    

“Anthony was caught off guard–lunged at her,” Will explained, gesturing to the bloodshed in the hall.  “Benny put him down.”

“Oh no,” you frowned.  “Poor Tess.” 

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but glow with pride that Benny had stepped up to look after your own.  You knew Tom would be proud, too, at least after he had gotten over the initial shock.  Shifter genetics were a recessive trait, carried on the X chromosome; still there was roughly a 50/50 chance Tom’s girls would end up recessive carriers of the gene.  

“Maybe you can talk to her,” Will said.

“Do you think Molly is okay with that?” you asked.  As excited as you were to bring Tess back into her natural-born pack, you didn’t want to make this day worse than it already was for Tom’s family.

“I don’t think she’s got a choice,” Will said.  “Pope’s talking to her now.  Tess is in her room.”

“I’ll talk to her,” you agreed.  “If I text you a list, can you run to the store to pick up some things for me?”

Will agreed and you mounted the stairs to Tess’s bedroom on the corner of the landing.  You knocked on the door.  

“Tess, it’s Ginger,” you said.  “Can I come in?”

“Fuck off,” Tess yelled through the door.

“Will told me what happened,” you explained.  “He’s worried about you.  He wanted me to come talk to you.”

You heard a long sigh through the door.  Tess’s puppy crush on Will was one of the worst kept secrets of the pack.  Mentioning it never failed to get Tom riled up, but it was perfectly healthy and natural.  For his part, Will was always tender with her; he never tried to embarrass or abuse her affection.  

You opened the door a crack.  Tess was sprawled across her bed, stripped down to her slip and stockings.  Her face was flushed, and her hair clung to her sweat-damp neck and chest. 

“What is wrong with me,” she moaned, in obvious discomfort.  

“There is nothing wrong with you,” you said, moving toward the bed, drawing her hair off her neck and twisting it into a loose braid.  “It’s true; you’re different from most of your peers, but that doesn’t make it wrong.  Since time immemorial, there comes a time in every young woman’s life when she declares to the world that she is a co-creator of life itself.”

“So I’m just supposed to be a baby factory for any man who comes near me?”

“No,” you snapped, taking Tess’s hands and forcing her to look you in the eyes, her skin feverish and clammy.  

“Never.  That is vicious slander perpetuated by humans who are too afraid to admit that no matter how much time and energy they spend on waxing and dieting and anti-aging potions, at the end of the day they’re still just animals.  You choose your mate.  You decide when to have children.  You decide where.  That is your birthright.”

“Why me?” Tess threw herself back on the bed, still unconvinced of the splendor that being a shifter had to offer.  

“Your father only ever wanted to protect you,” you said.  “Unfortunately, that means there are some things he didn’t prepare you for.  I know we haven’t always gotten along, but we’re family.  I’m here for you.  Let me draw you a bath, you can relax, there’s nothing you need to do but take care of yourself.”  

You went to the bathroom down the hall and gave the tub a quick rinse before filling the tub with lukewarm water and a healthy squirt of Evie’s Mr. Bubbles.  You stepped back into the hallway to fetch fresh towels from the linen closet and that’s when you ran into Molly coming out of the bedroom.  Her face was puffy and red, which made her eyes stand out in a startling shade of green.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face here,” the fiery redhead warned you, putting on a brave face in spite of her obvious grief.  You had to admit she was beautiful; at least Tom had been right about that.

“I’m not here to make trouble,” you said.  “I’m sorry for everything that’s happened, but right now I’m the only one here who knows what Tess is going through.  I just want to help.”  

Molly bushed passed you on her way down the stairs without another word.  You took it as tacit permission to continue routing through her linen closet.  You brought Tess the clean towels and sent her to the bathroom with some implicit instructions on the various applications of a handheld shower head.  

While Tess was in the bath, you changed the bed sheets.  Will arrived with arms full of shopping bags from the Target around the corner and together the two of you started unpacking new pillows and blankets, and a few more intimate personal effects.  

“Put your arms up,” you instructed, tearing the tags off a faux-fur blanket.

Will complied instinctually, but then balked as you scrubbed the blanket against his chest and underarms.

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m getting your scent on this,” you insisted.  “It’ll help.”

Will grumbled in protest, but ultimately relented as you prepared a suitable nest of softness and warmth.  Tess returned from the bathroom in a fresh nightgown and robe.  You made sure she was comfortable with cold water, snacks, and anything else she might need until the mourners had left.      

“Tell me about my father,” Tess said, getting settled into bed. 

“Your father was a great man,” Will said.

“Not you,” Tess cut him off.  “God, I’ve heard that speech a thousand times.  I want to hear it from her.”  

“I met your father in Tehran,” you explained, perching on the end of her bed.  “He could have killed me, but instead he brought me in.  He never treated me like a woman, just another one of his warriors.  I suppose I wasn’t grateful enough for that at the time, but I miss him terribly.”

At the time, the army’s special forces unit of shifters was still in its infancy with Tom as its captain, struggling to make a pack out of lone wolves so far gone they were nearly feral.  Something the higher ups in Washington couldn’t possibly understand.  

You were living as a lone wolf yourself at the time, trying to fly under the radar, but Redfly sniffed you out right away.  Ginger was a red wolf, like him, it was possible you had a common ancestor somewhere down your family line.  The unit had orders to destroy any other wolves who could be used by foreign powers to do the same things Tom and his team were doing for the U.S.  But Tom saw your skill as a healer and knew he could make use of you.

“There was a lot I didn’t understand about Tom,” you said.  “But I know he loved you girls and your mother very much.  He fought against every instinct in order to make a life with you.  He wanted very badly to be a good father, but he was a killer by nature.  I wish I could assure you otherwise, but that’s the truth.” 

Tess nodded solemnly as you finished tucking her into bed before making your way downstairs. 

Will stopped in the kitchen to grab a beer as Santi recounted for the thousandth time the carefully crafted explanation of what had happened in Columbia for another of Tom’s acquaintances from the real estate office.

You stepped out on the porch, taking a seat on the swing, watching Frankie play with Evie in the grass as Benny tossed Luna into the air in a way that made the other mother’s gasp.  Will came out from the kitchen and handed you a cold beer and took a seat beside you. 

“Tess will make a good match for Benny,” you said, leaning on Will’s shoulder as you looked out across the yard.

Will groaned, taking a long drink from his beer as sweat beaded on the outside of the bottle.  

“Not now, but in a few years,” you insisted.  “Once she’s done with college.  I’ll be an old maid by the time Benny’s ready to settle down and start a family.”  

“Don’t hold your breath,” Will warned with a chuckle.  

After a while, Santi came out to the porch, leaning heavily on the door frame.  The sun was starting to set and the crowd of mourners had dwindled.  Frankie brought Evie back up to the porch to hand off to one of her aunties for bedtime rituals and shouldered Luna’s diaper bag.  

“You ready to go?” you said, reaching for Santi’s hand.  He mumbled something that sounded like protest and Will stepped in.  

“You should head out; Benny and I can help with the cleanup.”

“You alright if I ride with Pope?” you asked Frankie as he packed the car.

Frankie agreed and leaned over to kiss your cheek, his fresh stubble tickling your face.  

“I’ll see you back at the house.” 

Santiago insisted on driving, despite how tired he was.  You figured it helped get his mind off things.  You were renting a two bedroom flat about twenty minutes from Will’s apartment.  Before Columbia, Frankie had been staying in a trailer on the airfield, but that had fallen through after his suspension, so he was currently sharing the second bedroom with Luna.  It wasn’t ideal, but you liked having your family close.

“Come here,” you sighed, herding Santiago into the bedroom.  “Let me help you relax.”

You pressed him onto the bed and climbed up to kneel behind him.  You reached around and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt.  You massaged his neck and shoulders with the utmost care, tracing the scars at the base of his neck.  You felt the tension in his muscles start to ease under your hands. 

“That’s better,” you said, moving your body closer.  You slid your hands down his front, undoing a few more buttons as Santiago sighed, letting his head fall back against your breasts.  

“It’s been a long day,” you said, kissing his face and neck, then down his shoulders.  “A hard day.  You deserve a break.  You’ve earned it.”  

You carefully helped him shuck off his shirt.  He let you move him, just this side of dead weight as you ran your hands over his chest and across his waist.  You had to admit he had maintained quite a nice figure despite his advancing years–not that you minded the little belly Frankie had put on around the same time you had gained the bulk of your pregnancy weight–but variety was the spice of life, after all.  

“C’mon,” you said.  “Lay down.  Let me take care of you.”

Santiago stretched out on the bed and you pulled off his shoes and socks, unbuttoned his pants and kissed a trail across his hip as you pulled them down.  You put on a show, unzipping your dress, letting it pool around your feet as you pulled down the cups of your nursing bra and climbed over him.  

You took his shaft in your hand, running your tongue over the swollen tip.  You crawled upwards with a cheeky smile and took his face in your hand, kissing him hard as you lifted yourself onto him, snug muscles gripping the hard pulse of his cock.

You braced yourself placing hands on his chest, lifting yourself up to rock against him.  Santiago hummed sleepily, gripping the swell of your hips.  

“You like that,” you murmured.  “You like how good I take this cock for you.”

You leaned forward to kiss his face, his throat, nipping at his earlobe.  Santiago growled, pulling you into him harder, nuzzling into your face and neck, running his fingers through your hair. 

You ground down against him until he shuddered with his release.  You rolled onto the bed beside him, panting in exhilaration.  You pressed your nose into his cheek, tracing circles against his skin.   

[asktheisle]

dichloro@oscar wow, didn't expect to see any legendary pokemon at this party.. i would have prepared better had i known we'd be in such high company. what exactly ARE the magi? i've not heard of pokemon like them in our universe..

This island is hidden away, so many legendary and mythical pokemon come to seek refuge from the rest of the world. It's almost like a resort to them in a way. If you were to luck out in encountering one, they would treat you kindly as long as you do the same.

As for the Magi, they are a group of pokemon. That's just what they call themselves, but they're a trio. They usually only show their true form to those who are the same species as them, as well as fairy and psychic types. Sometimes they might show themselves to others, however! My son-Nathaniel-has seen them, and he's a human.

Speaking of, the Magi should be coming around soon...

[ryuto12]

Vomit Boy Has GROWN

[chiefatticcreator]

which two members of team rwby want oscar, and which two members want jaune? wouldn't be shocked if ruby and yang have the same taste given that they are sisters.

They actually don't! Oh, Ruby thinks Oscar is cute, and Yang agrees that Jaune is handsome, but both prefers the others. Weiss and Ruby want Jaune, Blake and Yang want Oscar.

[mctwinkdom]

why do you think daniel and lando as a ship didn't take off the way landoscar did? I am obsessed with landoscar but just recently got into it so don't know too much about the Daniel era... Ive seen clips of Carlando and I get why they were shipped so much (even though I deff prefer Oscar lolol) but curious your thoughts...

I'm also a recent fan! I wasn't around during the McLaren Daniel era, so my analysis really isn't that great, but I also noticed how much more popular Carlando and Landoscar are compared to Dando, so here's my two cents on it (don't take it too seriously please):

My first idea is the age gap? I think some people aren't comfortable shipping two men with a 10 years age gap, whereas Carlando and Landoscar have a much more comfortable 5 and 2 years gap. Second idea is that Daniel was supposed to be the number 1 McLaren driver and, being a race winner, to show Lando how it's done; but the opposite happened and Lando was the better McLaren driver at that time, which made the dynamic a bit weird. Third reason is, from what I've heard (I didn't necessarily see it from myself) Daniel and Lando actually were a bit awkward around each other at first and took some time to find common ground and humor.

Overall, I think Dando is a good ship but they don't have a "cliche" trope, which helps a lot of ships to get popular: Carlando was a big brother taking his little brother under his wing and teaching him what he knew about racing and life in general; Landoscar are giving college sweethearts being a bit shy and playful and cute around each other. Daniel and Lando are obviously good friends but Daniel was not the mentor he was supposed to be and that Carlos was, and he wasn't the playful cute agemate Oscar is either. They were just... well, dudes.

As for why Landoscar took off this way, I think that fanstage moment at Silverstone 2023 changed everything, that's when the fics started blowing up. It's obvious Oscar is not a touchy person and Lando is very respectful of people's boundaries, so when Oscar wrapped his arm around Lando's middle and pulled him closer with that kind of "c'mon why not" face, you can see how suprised and happy Lando is, he's literally BEAMING. So yeah. Landoscar hits like crack and they became popular so quickly because it's a dynamic we're not used to see in F1 and in Lando's previous ships: it's sweet, and quiet, and soft, they have so many little moments showing how fond they are of each other, they're two teammates genuinely having each other's back (last Austrian GP really proved that) and pulling the team UP.

That concludes my analysis!! I never paid too much attention to Dando to be honest, they're really not my cup of tea (mostly because I don't fuck with Daniel like that), but that was fun to think about.

Landoscar stays on top ✌️

[jacqcrisis]

Imagining a harem anime but its about a new teacher to an all boys school but also the teacher is a Normal Human Dad and the school is a special school for creatures of all sorts and the harem is that he's getting fought over by all the other monster facility. The minotaur football coach. The naga gym teacher. The slime thing science teacher. The orc english/drama teacher. The kitsune-looking home ec teacher. The Thing That Haunts and Cleans the Halls. And more.

Is he having the worst time or the best time? Who knows, but he's getting paid a lot as their diversity hire and his kids are getting free tuition. Pros and cons.

[one-chaotic-neautral]

Malevolent really is just 'Arthur's harem' isn't it?

We have John, Oscar, Noel, Butcher, Larson, Kayne and Scratch being all varying levels of obsessed and /or gay for Arthur, and he seems mostly oblivious.

He just has that pathetic wet cat man charisma that brings all the boys / eldritch entities to the yard.

[ktwritesstuff]

Nothing Else Matters (a Triple Frontier shifters AU)

Title: Nothing Else Matters Fandom: Triple Frontier Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Reader x Triple Frontier Boys reverse harem style Word Count: ~2,000 Summary: Your faves are werewolves and you get to pork them. And you are also a werewolf. Yeah. That's pretty much it. Beta-read by the incomparable @bs-fangirl. Additional content notes below the cut.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

Content Notes: No sexy times in this chapter, but issuing a content warning for some medical drama, my total lack of understanding of the Spanish language, and completely made up shifter nonsense.

Chapter One

Three weeks ago you were convinced Santiago was dead.  And now you were holed up in his safehouse in St. John while he led the rest of your pack on a suicide mission through the Columbian jungle.  You hadn’t been keen on being left alone with the baby in unfamiliar territory, but you didn’t dare complain.  You might have been able to convince Frankie to sit this one out–he had a good heart and he was fiercely protective of baby Luna–but you couldn’t ask that of him.  Not after landing the both of you in hot water for getting pregnant against your Alpha’s wishes.  

You tried not to wonder why the trip that was supposed to last 5 days had stretched out to two weeks, but it was hard not to imagine all the things that could have gone wrong.  Some nights you woke alone in a strange bed so frightened it was all you could do to wake Luna and encourage her to nurse until you could barely keep your eyes open.  

You were relieved when the boys’ boat finally pulled into the dock, until you saw the state that Will was in–bleeding from his stomach, barely able to stand on his own.

You searched their faces for clues to what had happened: Will pale and in pain, Benny agitated and fretting over his brother, Santiago was stern, nearly impossible to read, and Frankie just seemed sad.  You counted them again: four.

“Where’s Tom?”

Santiago pointed to a human-sized bundle of canvas tied with rope at the back of the boat.  A wave of dizziness and nausea washed over you as the realization set in.  You leaned on one of the dock’s pylons to support yourself.     

You felt your wolf, Ginger, raging inside you.  You took deep breaths to calm her, knowing that Ironhead was more than likely scratching at Will’s nervous system, eager to be free.  Seeing Ginger, smelling her, feeling her anguish would certainly push him over the edge.  But letting Ironhead out now would do more harm than good.

“Get him up to the house and get my kit,” you instructed.  Your anxiety dissipated as your whole world narrowed to a single purpose: taking care of your pack.

Benny set Will down on the chair in the main room and helped to remove his shirt.  You grimaced, peeling back the hemostatic dressing to find a bullet hole still seeping blood and pus.  You poured wound wash over the damaged skin and pressed fresh gauze against the wound.  Ironhead growled and snapped at you–fangs and claws bared–before Will could get him back under control.

“I know,” you said as calmly as you could manage.  “I know it hurts.  Stay with me.”  

In the tiny nursery–the outdated butler’s pantry, just big enough for a bassinet and your nursing chair–Luna woke and began to cry.  The sound made Will lurch with the effort of keeping Ironhead contained.

“Frankie,” you called.  “Get the baby.  Frankie, the baby!”

From across the room, Frankie stared at you blankly, still deep in shock.  You instructed Benny to keep the pressure on the wound and went to the nursery to fetch Luna.  Seeing you, she stopped crying in earnest, but still fussed for comfort and attention.  

“Francisco!” you snapped, carrying the baby out to her father.  “Escúchame!”

Frankie’s eyes finally focused on you as you handed Luna off to him.  He clutched her to his chest, cradling her head in his hand and breathing in the familiar smell of her–like fresh powder and breast milk.  His breathing and pulse began to slow.  Catfish grounded and soothed by being reunited with his beloved pup.  

“Take her,” you instructed.  “I need to stitch Will up and get him regulated.  If he shifts now, he will tear that wound wide open. You understand?”

“No,” Frankie protested, trying to hand her back to you.  “I can’t.”

“Yes you can,” you said.  “You are her father.  I need you to do this.”

Frankie nodded, rallying himself to take Luna to the kitchen so you could stitch Will’s wound.  

Stomach wounds were so complex, without imaging or exploratory surgery it was impossible to know the full extent of the damage.  But the truth was, even with a shifter’s regenerative capabilities, if the kidneys or bladder were involved Will would be dead already. He was feverish, so you gave him an injection of acetaminophen to try to bring down his temperature and help with the pain.  An IV would be better, but you weren’t set up for that here.

“Can you swallow?” you asked, opening a bottle of antibiotics to show him the size of the pills.

“Don’t worry, man,” Benny said, trying to soothe himself with humor.  “If you can't, we'll give you the suppository.”

Will rolled his eyes, accepting the pills with a glass of water.  “I can swallow.”   

“Benny, can you get him out of these wet clothes and into bed?” you asked.  “I’ll be right in, I’m just going to put on a pot of tea.”

“You got it,” Benny agreed, snapping to attention, happy to be given a task.

As the youngest member of your pack–before Luna came along–he could be irresponsible, impulsive, and self-indulgent, but he always knew when to buckle down and get things done.   

“Come here,” you urged.  “Give me a kiss.  You’re doing a good job.  You’re a good brother.  I’m proud of you.”  

Benny stooped to place a kiss at the corner of your mouth and you helped him lift Will out of the chair.  As they hobbled to the bedroom you went to the kitchen to put on the kettle.

“How is he?” Frankie asked, bouncing Luna on his knee as she fussed and reached for you.  

A shifter’s wolf was a natural part of their sympathetic nervous system, but like an elevated heartbeat or increased blood pressure, it could also be maladaptive.  The change took years to master without losing yourself to the animal and even then required an incredible amount of energy, energy that Will needed to heal.   

“Bleeding’s stopped,” you explained.  “But he’s not out of the woods yet.  Fighting one hell of an infection.  May need stronger antibiotics than what I have to give him.  If it goes septic we’ll have a feverish, pissed off Ironhead on our hands.”

“Tell me what you need,” Santiago said–the first words he had spoken to you in over three years.  “I’ll get it.”  

You turned away from him, returning your attention to warming up a bottle for Luna as you waited for the kettle.  You would be the first to admit, you hadn’t gone out of your way to bridge the gap between you after he had essentially waltzed back into your lives with a hand grenade after years off the grid.  But if this was his feeble attempt at repairing what he had broken, he would have to do better than that.

“I’m going to stay with Will tonight,” you explained.  “I need you to look after Luna.”

“Can’t Benny watch him?” Frankie pleaded, rising from the table as he shushed Luna anxiously.  “She wants you.”

“Benny has never calmed anyone in his life,” you said.  “And we need Will calm, Frankie.  You will be fine.  She’s just hungry.  Give her a bottle and rock her, play with her for a bit and put her to bed.  There’s toys and clean nappies in the nursery.  It will be good for you both.” 

You went to Frankie, holding Luna between you, wondering what the hell had gone on out there that had him so on edge.

“I love you.  I trust you.”  You held Frankie’s scruffy, bearded face and kissed him.  His lips tasted like salt and copper pennies.

You poured the tea and checked the temperature of Luna’s bottle before handing it off to Frankie.  You went back to the bedroom, thankful you had missed the ordeal of getting Will undressed and settled into bed.

“Thank you, Benny,” you said.  “I can take over; you need your rest.”

“Are you sure?” Benny asked, adding soto voce, “He’s pretty agitated.”

“I can still hear you, Benny,” Will snapped.

“I can handle your brother,” you assured him, giving the taut muscle of his arm as squeeze with your free hand.  “Eat something, try to get some sleep.”

Will growled and shifted uncomfortably in bed as his brother left.

“Where’s Luna?”

“She’s with her father,” you said, taking a careful seat beside him on the bed, holding the back of your hand against his face.

“Frankie doesn’t know shit about taking care of a kid,” Will protested.

"He'll be fine,” you insisted, taking a cold compress from your bag and holding it to the pulse point on his throat.  “You're the one I'm worried about.  You want something else for the pain?" 

Will shook his head.  ""M fine."

You sighed in frustration at Will’s pigheadedness.  Toughing out the pain made Ironhead that much harder to soothe.  You undressed and slid under the covers beside him, pressing yourself against his side.  His bare skin was hot and clammy.

"How's that?"

"Better," he nodded, putting an arm around you.

"I should put you on NPO," you warned, handing him the cup of tea from the bedside table.  "But as it stands you need the fluids. You lost quite a bit of blood."

"I'll make more," Will said, sipping the bitter tea.

"At least you haven't lost your sense of humor,” you said.  “Tell me what happened.”

Will related the whole mess to you: how they all got greedy at the sight of all that money, but Redfly most of all.  That Frankie blamed himself for the helicopter crash, for the deaths of the cocaine farmers, for not putting his foot down when the load was too heavy for the chopper.  That the son of one of the murdered farmers had followed them to seek revenge against Tom.  That they had to cross the Andes on foot and fight their way through an army of child soldiers to get to their boat.  That at the time, being shot in the altercation with Lorea was the least of their worries. 

“Is that so,” you sighed.  Having gone through all that it was a wonder he hadn’t thrown a clot, or worse.  “Any other symptoms? Headache?  Chest Pain? Nausea?”

Will shook his head, taking another gulp of tea.

“Dare I ask when was the last time you took a shit?” 

Will chuckled, just a little.  "You don't want to know."

“You have to tell me if the pain gets worse,” you warned.  “You understand?”

The bullet had gone straight through him, so at least it wasn’t tearing him apart on the inside while they were traipsing through the Andes.  

“All those speeches you give to new recruits, do you ever tell them about this part?”

Of course everyone loved hearing the story about assaulting a man into pissing himself at the Piggly Wiggly.  It made them feel powerful, cool even, paradoxically in control.  They were far less interested in the very real possibility of watching their friends die.

“About beautiful women asking about their bowel movements?” Will scoffed.  “No.  Definitely not.”

“I thought the whole point was to keep it real,” you carefully leaned your head on his chest.  You could feel his heart pounding

“Nobody wants it kept that real.”  

"Here," you said, taking his hand and placing it on your chest so he could feel your heartbeat.  "Does that feel like the heartbeat of someone in danger?  We're safe now; you can rest.  You brought them home."

"Not all of them," Will said with a pained grimace.

"I know.  I could kill Santiago for putting you through that."  

"Go easy on him," Will pleaded.  "He's hard enough on himself for all of us."  

"Well it certainly doesn't show," you said.  "He's cold to me.  Won’t even look me in the eye."

"Don't take it personal.  It's just--"  Will’s eyes flitted away from you like he didn't want to say.

"Spit it out."

"There was a woman.  In Columbia--"

"He can fuck who he wants," you scoffed.  “You know I don’t care about that.”

"A human woman."

A growl formed deep in your chest, but you swallowed it down, mindful of controlling your temper, but you were sure the momentary lapse in judgment wasn’t lost on Will or Ironhead.  

"He said it was nothing,” Will said.  “But he cared for her.  He had to send her away to keep her safe."

“Then it doesn’t matter anyway,” you said in a careful, measured tone as you took the empty mug from Will’s hands.

You both knew that with Tom gone the pack was vulnerable.  You needed Santiago now, as much as you hated to admit it.  If his loyalties were divided it would be disastrous for all of you.

You laid your head on Will’s chest, carefully snaking your arms around him to soothe yourself with his solidness.    

“Close your eyes now,” you said.  “You need sleep.” 

[more-mara]

I need someone to write an Oscar harem fic. That boy needs to be spoiled

Honestly tho. Just let my boy be so overwhelmed with love and affection that he can’t even think properly.

For absolutely no reason whatsoever, who would be in his harem? 👀