#shes such a sucker for it i can't even lie--

[vanteguccir]

chris/matt’s reaction to reader calling them pretty boy or just really soft pet names in general 🤍

chris:

I totally think Chris, even though he feels flustered, he would try to make it about you, trying to turn the attention to you, his chest would be SO warm, and he would feel so happy 😭😭

- A SMALL BLURB BC I CAN -

Chris leaned against the doorframe of their shared room, watching Y/N fiddle with a new piece of jewelry she’d bought. She sat cross-legged on the bed, the cozy warm light from the bedside table showering her body, making her look angelic. Her focus on the delicate bracelet was intense, her brows furrowed in concentration.

Chris couldn’t help but smile. As if sensing his gaze, Y/N looked up, her face breaking into a bright, infectious smile.

"There you are!" She exclaimed, her eyes lighting up even more. She patted the spot next to her on the bed. "Come here, pretty boy."

Chris’s heart skipped a beat. He walked over, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Pretty boy, huh?" That was new, and he couldn't lie and say he didn't like it.

Y/N giggled, a sound that always made his heart flutter. She nodded enthusiastically, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

"Yes, you’re my pretty boy."

Chris sat down next to her, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He loved how her words could make him feel so special.

"Well, if I’m your pretty boy, what does that make you?" He asked, leaning in closer, his warm breath hitting her cheeks.

Y/N’s blush deepened, and she looked down at her bracelet, trying to hide her giddiness.

"I guess that makes me a lucky girl." She murmured.

Chris chuckled softly, lifting her chin with a gentle finger.

"The luckiest." He agreed, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. Her skin was warm under his lips, and he could feel her smile against him. "My lucky girl."

matt:

Matt is just a softie, he would get SO lost and flustered, blushing like crazy and stuttering 😭😭😭😭

- HERE WE GO -

Y/N lounged on the couch, the warm glow of the afternoon sun casting a golden hue across the room. She was nestled in her favorite corner, a book in hand, when she heard the familiar sound of Matt's footsteps coming from the small hall that led to their shared room. He entered the living room, his hair slightly tousled from a nap, and his eyes still heavy with sleep.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Y/N greeted him with a smile, her eyes sparkling with affection. "Did you have a good nap?"

Matt rubbed his eyes and stretched, a soft yawn escaping his lips.

"Yeah, I did. I needed that. Recording all night wasn't a good idea... How's your book?"

"It's amazing, but you know what's even better?" Y/N's smile grew wider as she set her book aside, giving Matt her full attention. "Seeing my pretty boy all relaxed and well rested."

Matt froze, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink. He wasn't used to such compliments, even though Y/N always seemed to catch him by surpise, as if she knew exactly how to make his heart race every time.

"P-Pretty boy?" He stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, his blue eyes turning wide open, shining below the daylight that came from the big window.

"Yes, pretty boy." Y/N repeated, leaving her book aside and standing up, walking over to him. She reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, aligning his messy curls. "You are the most beautiful, kind-hearted person I know, yeah?"

Matt's eyes widened, his blush spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat louder than the last. He was such a sucker for praises, and Y/N knew that very well.

"Y/N, you can't just say things like that." He mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Why not? It's true." She replied, her smile widening as she lowered her hand from his hair to his face, caressing his jaw.

Matt's heart raced as he felt her touch. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so flustered. He bit his lip, trying to suppress a grin but failing miserably.

"I-I... uh... th-thank you." He managed to say, his voice trembling.

Y/N chuckled softly, loving how flustered he became. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"You're adorable when you're shy." She teased, her lips brushing against his skin.

[chellybean15]

Suck The Love Out Of You

Pairing: Father Charlie x succubus!fem!reader

Summary: When a sex demon walks into a church, she finds that the priest is a little bit irresistible.

Warnings: Smut!!! MDNI! 18+! Oral(m receiving), a little bit of ass play(m receiving), A little bit of fluff (because I'm a sucker for romance). Talk of murder and seduction. Flogging.

Notes: This my second fic I ever wrote so I apologize if its bad. This also my first time writing smut. The fic is a bit short, I couldn't figure out how to make it longer with the idea. This fic is actually really bad, gonna go cry now brb. Also I'm never writing butt stuff ever again. It made me uncomfortable but I aim to please, so i'll shut up now, xoxo.

The sky started to get dark as you were walking around, trying to find your next hunt. You were hungry, horny, and frustrated. You haven't had a man in hours and it was starting to get to you.

You're right by a church when you stumble upon the smell of a man. The realization that you'll finally be satisfied makes your panties wet. To quench the thirst, you walk into the church.

"Hello?" You question, looking around the church.

"I'm Father Charlie. Can I help you?" He asks. You rake your eyes across his figure. He's handsome. Something about him excites you.

" Hi, yes! I'm Y/n. I came here for some guidance. I have this dark side that hides in my head and I just wanna know how to get rid of it." You say, trying to make up a story.

"Please sit." He says as he points to the pew. "What is troubling you?"

Before you say anything, you take the silent moment to kiss him, trying to put him under your spell. At first you're unsure if he's even falling for it, until you feel him kiss you back.

His lips are soft and inviting. You crave more of him, so you force your tongue into his mouth. Which he easily gives in. After a few minutes of making out, he pulls away.

"We shouldn't be doing this. It's a sin..." He says aloud. He can't lie, you intrigue him but he knows that this makes him a sinner. Which he has dark secrets and desires of his own. You look at him weird and click your tongue.

"I'm a succubus. You really think I care about sinning? Yeah, i figured not." You declare, looking around. "Do you have a bedroom here somewhere?" You ask.

He nods and points down the hall. He gets up to lead you there. Thoughts are racing in his mind. What if he doesn't satisfy you? You're gonna kill him? His scarred back shivers at the thought. He wonders if this is Gods karma. Maybe he is supposed to die this way for his perverted thoughts.

Once you get to the bedroom, you push him on to the bed. Eager to get him out of his pants, you waste no time into pulling them off. After you get his pants off, you spot a box on his dresser. You walk over to it and open it up. The sight definitely shocking you a bit.

"Wow. You're a naughty boy, aren't you? Sex toys? That a priest owns? And you're worried about sex being a sin." You mock him. You pick up the butt plug. "We're sooo gonna use this. Not on me though. You!" You point at him. The look of panic on his face is priceless.

When you walk back over to him, you place the plug on the bedside table. Your attention back on Charlie, you get down on your knees, putting your hand under the hem of his boxers. Yanking them down, your eyes widen. His dick is huge, larger than any of the other guys you preyed upon. It has you wishing that he can satisfy you, so you can keep him around.

After staring at his dick for a few moments, you grasp it in your hand and bring it to your mouth. You look up at him to find him staring down at you with desperation.

Putting it in your mouth, he grunts. He grips your hair and pushes your head farther down, causing you to take more of his cock in your mouth. For once, you actually don't mind the man being in control. Bobbing your head up and down, you start to gag, causing spit to drip down his balls and on his asshole. It grants you an idea.

Pulling your mouth off him, you grab the butt plug off the side table. "You ready?" You ask. He nods eagerly. You put the butt plug up to his hole, that's covered in spit, slowly pushing it in. Once it's in, you look at him, proud of your work. Taking his cock in your hand again, you shove him back in your mouth.

This time your bobbing is deeper and sloppier which has him a moaning mess above you. You take your free hand and massage his balls while deepthroating him. After a few more minutes of sucking, he whines, "I'm about to cum." Which wasn't a really good warning since he came down your throat, a few seconds later. You pull off him, swallowing every last drop.

At the end of his high, he quickly gets up to find his whip. When he finds it, he brings it back to the bed so he can start his normal ritual for when he feels guilty.

"What are you doing?" You ask, a little bit worried. What was wrong with you? Had you grown a soft spot for the priest while you were blowing him? Of course not, you try to convince yourself. This has never happened before, you've never liked a man that you did stuff with. It was purely for your satisfaction.

"What we did was a sin, and now I need to repent. This is just how I do it." He says nonchalantly. He swings the whip back but before it can hit his skin, you catch the whip.

"Don't do that! Look, I understand that to you it might be a sin but I don't want to see you hurt yourself." You explain.

"Why?" He asks, stunned.

"Because I think I might like you, which is weird because this never happens. I don't want to see you hurt. Can we please just lay down on the bed?" She pleads.

"Yeah, of course. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you with the whole flogging thing." He states, as he pulls both you and him onto the bed to lay down. He can tell you're a bit sleepy.

"It's okay." You mumble. You crawl into his arms and let the noise from the wind lure you asleep.

[flowersforbucky]

sucker for you

peter maximoff x reader

word count: 1.2k

i can't stop thinking about how peter would react to reader taking his lollipop from him and putting it in her mouth so here's a little drabble about that

a/n: i should be working on this bucky piece that i started like 3 weeks ago but i just needed to get this out of my system first

warnings/tags: language, use of alcohol (everyone is 21+!!), no use of y/n, peter's pov, and some ✨️tension✨️

Peter didn't know it was possible to get so flustered over a human being.

He's never exactly considered himself to be a ladies man, but around you? He's hopeless. A lost cause. Every time he's near you, it feels like his first very day ever interacting with another person.

From the way that your smile reaches your eyes whenever he makes you laugh with a stupid joke to the way that you always smell sweeter than the candy that he eats too much of, he's been a goner for you since the day he first met you.

And the worst part? You seem to know exactly how to make him blush.

As per usual on Friday nights, yours and Peter's group of friends is hanging out in the woods behind the mansion. You're all lounging around a bonfire that Scott works to keep going strong, talking amongst yourself in pairs.

"You know, I heard Warren telling Scott that he's planning on asking you to the winter gala," Jean snickers to you.

Peter isn't trying to eavesdrop, really. Jean just has zero volume control when she has any amount of alcohol in her system. He'd be able to hear every word she's saying even if you and her weren't sitting right next to him.

"What?" Jean demands when you offer no response other than some giggles and a shake of your head. "You've already turned two people down. You're kinda running low on options at this point.”

He twists the stem of the cherry flavored lollipop that he's sucking on, trying and failing to focus on whatever it is that Kurt's rambling on about. His body is angled away from yours, but he can feel the vibration of your low laughter from where your shoulder rests against his.

Peter had heard that you've been asked to the gala that Charles throws in the name of the X-Men every year. He couldn't lie, he was relieved when he'd found out that you had shot down the suitors - not that he'd ever have the balls to ask you himself. He had no desire to be added to the list of people that you've rejected to a glorified prom.

“So? I can go alone. Going alone is better than going with anyone who isn't the person that I actually want to go with,” you answer with a shrug of your shoulders.

Peter tenses at your words, his stomach doing a somersault.

“And who would that be?” Jean asks in a teasing voice, almost like she already knows the answer.

Before you can respond, Peter quickly shoots to his feet. Kurt comes to a sudden stop in the middle of a sentence, and both you and Jean turn to look up at him from where you still sit on the old, fallen tree that is being used as a bench.

“Where're you going?” You ask. Peter knows it's probably wishful thinking, but he can't help but think that there's a hint of disappointment in your voice.

“Back to the mansion. I've gotta take a whiz,” he retorts, hoping he sounds casual. Truthfully, he can't stand the thought of having to hear you say some dude's name in response to Jean's question.

“Since when are you above pissing in the woods?” Scott laughs as he piles some more branches onto the bonfire.

Peter shoots him an obscene gesture, about to bolt in the direction of the mansion when he feels your hand wrap around his from beneath him. You begin to get up, and he instinctively helps pull you into a standing position.

“I'll walk back with you,” you tell him as you drop his hand. “I'm going to grab a few more beers.” You smile at him in the orange glow of the fire and he forgets how to speak. He motions as if to say after you and you begin walking in the direction of the mansion.

He's fully aware that he could have the two of you back to the school in a split-second, but despite how nervous he gets around you, he'd never pass up the opportunity to spend a few moments alone with you. Living here, you're both almost always surrounded by other people. If it's not Jean, it's Storm. If it's not Storm, it's Raven or Hank. If it's it's not –

“I just had to get away from that,” you sigh when the two of you are out of earshot from the others. “I love her, but Jean can be kind of relentless,” you add with a small laugh.

“You can say that again,” he agrees, his voice mumbled from the lollipop stuffed between his teeth and his check. “Just the other day she was saying that I should ask someone.”

“Yeah?” You quip, a curious edge to your tone. “And are you going to?”

“Nah,” Peter shrugs, trying to play it cool. “Like you said, it's better to go alone than to go with someone who isn't the person you really like.”

“So what's stopping you from asking her? Is she already going with someone else?”

“No,” he answers, coming to a stop in the middle of the moonlit path the two of you are walking on. “She's not. But she's already turned down basically everyone in the school, so I don't think I stand much of a chance.”

Sometimes Peter starts a sentence without knowing where it’s going, but right now even he's shocked by his words. He's not quite sure where the bravery came from, but he can't exactly take it back now. You're not stupid - he knows you can read between the lines to deduce who he's talking about.

You come to a halt, turning back to look at him. He offers a small, nervous smirk and resists the urge to dash away before you can reply to his confession.

“Three people isn't basically everyone in the school,” you chuckle with one of those grins that could bring Peter to his knees. You take a few slow steps towards him, stopping when your chest is just inches from his. Your gaze flickers from his eyes and down to his mouth before you reach a hand up to his face and pinch the stem of his lollipop between your thumb and index finger, plucking it from his mouth.

His eyes widen in surprise, all but bulging out of his head when you pop what's left of the red lollipop into your own mouth. You swirl it around in your mouth, your plump lips wrapped around the stick.

“But for what it's worth, the whole school could ask me and there's only one person who would get a yes out of me.”

You pull the lollipop from between your lips and hold it back up to Peter's mouth, resting it against his bottom lip until he parts them - to speak or to accept the sucker, he's not sure. But he doesn't do anything to stop you when you guide it back inside his mouth, the flavor of the cherry candy and your saliva infiltrating his senses when it meets his tongue.

“Just in case you were wondering,” you shrug, and turn to continue your walk back to the mansion as if you didn't just make his heart combust in his chest.

He speeds after you, deciding that maybe Jean has a point - maybe he should ask someone after all.

•••••

thanks for reading! this was my first time writing for peter, i'd very much appreciate comments/reblogs 💕

[dawndelion-winery]

Thanks for the Flowers

You send them a little prank thank you text with flowers they never sent

Ft: Alhaitham, Arlechinno, Childe, Scaramouche, Wriothesley

Alhaitham:

You thought it would be a funny prank to send him a stock image of flowers and a small thank you

"Glad you like them."

He smiles to himself, but then immediately deleted his message when he sees the attached image

That wasn't the bouquet he sent

His smile drops so fast because who exactly is sending you flowers apart from him?

"Throw those out, they aren't from me. Don't you like the one I sent more? I got your favourites, my love."

He gives the house a cursory scan the moment he steps in through the front door

It's only after you've given him his welcome home kiss and a hug that he starts looking for the bouquet for some trace of who the sender might be

At first he doesn't believe you when you say it's a prank because he wouldn't put it past you to just want to allay his worries

He'll come around though, and then he's annoyed

"That's childish and you know it, you can have my attention if you just ask for it."

Arlechinno:

This is her sign to publicly announce that you're with her because this sort of idiocy wouldn't be an issue if people knew you were spoken for

Initially chuckles to herself as she glares at the offending image

"Do you like them?"

Of course she's not telling you the weren't from her if you like them

The poor sucker who sent them to you deserves no credit anyway

If anything, they deserve her personal thanks for helping her gift you something!

Of course she needs to know their name and face to express her gratitude in person <33

In a totally genuine and non-threatening way (lie)

She ends up coming home late that day, having scared off any of your potential suitors just to be safe

"Had some unsavoury business come up, dearest, sorry to keep you waiting. Have you had dinner yet? No? Shall we dine together?"

She never brings it up though, so you sorta forget to ever tell her it was a joke

Childe:

At first he doesn't process that he didn't send you the flowers

It's not like he doesn't pay attention, but he has his subordinates send you so much stuff as he comes across it that it's really hard to keep track

For all he knows it might have been something he came across and spontaneously thought of you liking it

And your likes were pretty much needs to him

"Love you, my pookie <33"

And then he stows his phone away

Only to remember he hasn't gotten you any flowers that day

"My honey drumlet darling-kins, there doesn't happen to be a note attached to the flowers, is there?"

When you insist that no, there isn't, and you've checked thoroughly, he makes a mental note to look into anyone who's ever had a crush on you

For a friendly spar, of course!

He just needs to make sure his competition is even worth noting (they aren't)

He comes home, thoroughly disappointed that none of them could even hold their own against him - few even dared to try, scared shitless by the sudden appearance of a harbinger demanding they fight

Sweaty and tired, he's all over you, whining about his day and how everyone wants you and can't take a hint that you're so happy with him ("You are, aren't you? I'm your favourite.")

Of course you cave and tell him it was only a prank

He scowls at first, but then breaks out giggling as he buried his face in the crook of your neck

"It doesn't really matter because I think they're all scared of me anyway. Some of them took one look at me and blanched. Unlike you, of course; the sight of me excites you, doesn't it?"

Ah. There's your bastard ginger.

Scaramouche:

"Wrong number, I think you meant to text your side hoe."

Sends you the most unbothered replies

Is actually overthinking

He knows logically this is most likely a joke because he swears he has seen that bouquet somewhere on the internet when looking for flower arrangement inspiration

But what if it's just a really similar layout and someone actually did send it to you?

Horrible. He doesn't want to think about it

But of course he does anyway

Brings you flowers because he planned to sneakily replace the stranger's bouquet

Wriothesley:

"Honey, please tell me this is a joke."

Seething inside

Who in their right mind dared to covet you while you were happily dating him??

Don't even try evade his interrogation, he needs to know every detail

From the exact time the flowers were sent to the arrangement and paper quality

Don't mind him, it's just a small investigation he'll carry out in his free time

The sooner you come clean the better

Not that you'll go unpunished...but hey, confessing to your crimes must at least lighten the sentence, yeah?

Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyarobin @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating @lemeowade

[whorediaries-09]

hey I love your writing. I’d love if you could do like a James potter x reader where James is smoking and reader finds it really hot and has maybe there in public so she’s just sitting there really turned on and can’t do anything about it ??

hello, love! do you mind if i take a piece of your mind because this idea had me reeling. hehe, thank you for sending in the request!

can't you see, you're meant for me?

pairing- bsfdad!james potter x reader warning(s)-suggestive content, cigarettes. a/n- i'm a sucker for dilf james...sorry not sorry.

ps- this is very short :p. lmk if ya'll would like a part two hehe.

little train

you shouldn't be thinking about his biceps. not when you're out and about in public. but still, your mind doesn't stop reeling. you watch the sun rays reflect on his brown skin, reflecting the stretch marks he's got on his arms. they're beautiful, you think, as the veins pop from within his skin. he inhales another puff from the cigarette, watching as the smoke ascends into the sky.

'want one, love?' he asks.

'no mr. potter,' he huffs.

'i've asked you so many times to not call me that. you know you can call me james,'

'ah-okay, james, i don't want a cigarette.' he laughs.

'i don't think i'd be able to handle two stoners either ways.'

you're listening to him intently. at least that's what he thinks.

your mind however in occupied in the idea of having his hand wrap around your throat, as he'd push you to the wall, kissing you harsh. you imagine his fingers exploring every bit of your bare skin, with his rough calloused hands. you'd let him, happily. and even if deep down you know it was wrong to be fantasizing about your best friend's dad.

god, you couldn't help yourself.

'love, are you listening?' he asked, apparently caught up on the way you'd zoned out. you'd been practically zoned out, mesmerized by his biceps. he threw the cigarette on the ground, crushing it with the sole of his shoe.

you'd been caught. fuck.

'you seem lost, are you okay?' he said, moving towards you. he was wearing a compression sleeveless shirt paired with gray sweatpants. the ultimate outfit to get you reeling and drooling over him.

'i-ah- i zoned out, james. i'm okay,'

he didn't buy your lie. instead, he offered you a wicked smile.

'you are?'

'totally,' you answered, overly cheerful.

'and i totally believe you.' you blushed, cursing yourself internally.

'now tell me, what is your pretty mind thinking about?' he said, moving closer. you stammered, taking a few steps back.

'i-i'm just thinking about-'

'about?' he knew what you'd been thinking about. you could see it in his eyes. in his soft hazel eyes there was a twinge of malice, a twinge of mischief which you could recognize so well. and god forbid it made you so weak in the knees. you closed your eyes, trying to let your heart stop before you spoke the next words,

'you know what i'm thinking about, james.' he smiled lopsidedly, as if greatly amused, running his tongue over this upper row of teeth.

'do i now, love?'

'i think so, yes.' even if you're faking your confidence, he can right see through your act. he can see you crumbling from within as he towers over you, asking you mundane questions. and god does he love the effect he has on you.

he tests the waters, his palm coming closer to your face. you lean towards it, but just as your face is about to touch the crevice of his palm, your best friend shouts,

'oi! papa! i'm coming,' you jump away from him as harry comes running towards james. in your head, you hate how harry came in and ruined the moment. but you're also grateful because you didn't think you'd be able to control yourself if he held your face. however, it was safe to say the ride back home was more torturous than ever.

he kept tapping his fingers on the passenger's seat while he drove, seemingly nonchalant. but boy both of you knew it drove you fucking crazy.

*************************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

****************************************

[veren-cos]

Bachelor(ette)s react to a handmade gift!

Aka Bachelor's and ettes x reader

Honestly a lot of these can be read as platonic, and for Sam, if you just ignore that bullet point, it can be platonic too lol

Loosely based on a request by @vvnbxz !

Sam

• Loves it.

• Loves it Loves it Loves it Loves it.

• Like anything from you and he is happy.

• But If you made something just for him? Oh he would be crazy happy.

• Peppers you with kisses all over your face.

• Then gives you a hug and like gushes about how cool you are.

Sebastian

• He would probably be the most chill.

• He would obviously say thanks out of politeness and genuinely liking it!

• But he doesn't make it a thing.

• If you are close with him tho, he gets very happy about it when he is just thinking before he goes to sleep.

• Like woah! They made this just for me!

• It makes him feel special.

Alex

• Awh Alex is just a sweetie.

• He would be so so so happy.

• Whatever you made him, he would try and figure put how you did it.

• Then, he would make one for you!

• Whether that be a piece of clothing (the one he made would be falling apart), a mug, literally anything.

• Just enjoys your presence and your sentiment and wants to reciprocate the gesture.

Harvey

• Stoked!

• Like he is so precious about it.

• He displays whatever you give him on a shelf on his room.

• He feels like it's too precious to ever actually use it in fear of damaging it.

• Eventually he learns it's okay to actually use the things, but he is just so happy to receive something from you!

Shane

• He probably wouldn't realize it was handmade at first.

• You gave him a cup cozy that you made for all the soda he drinks haha

• When he realizes he just thinks it's cool!

• Wouldn't be dramatic or flabbergasted like some of the others.

• He already knows you've been crafty.

• But yeah he thinks it's neat!

Elliott

• He would be over the top.

• My dramatic man haha

• No but he would be complimenting you left and right, saying how talented you are!

• Would not let it go for nearly the whole season!

• Brags about it to Leah. Constantly.

• He is just so happy he connected with you, and that you actually think about him!

Haley

• Thinks it's so cool!!!

• If you just met Haley, you'd probably think she only likes brand name stuff

• But she is a sucker for home made!!

• She can't make things for crap imo, so she thinks you are so talented.

• I think she'd love if you knew how to sew or crochet.

• She would wear the clothes you make her all the time.

Emily

• Oh Emily would just die if you made her something

• Like she would be flabbergasted.

• You would probably learn how to make something just to give it to Emily.

• Like you'd learn how to paint and give her a mug you painted?

• She would be so touched that you thought of her! Would use/wear it constantly

Leah

• Leah, like Emily, would be so happy!!

• You'd learn how to sculpt just to try and make her something!

• She ends up getting a finger pot from you, as it was the very first thing you ever sculpted.

• She thinks it's so sweet that you learned a new skill just to give her something.

Penny

• Penny would love it!

• She definitely appreciates the sentiment of a gift more than the gift itself.

• So give this girl anything and she is over the moon

• I feel like she would like a good scarf or clothing accessory

• So you made her a big warm scarf!!

• She wears it all the time.

• Once she even tried to style it for spring and got wayyyy to hot that she felt sick-

• But she just wanted to show you how much she appreciated it!

Maru

• Thinks it's very sweet of you!!

• She has a lot of technological crafty stuff, but doesn't really work much with artsy things.

• So if you gave her something you made (ie a scarf, clothes, artwork) she would think it's super cool!

• Would probably ask you to teach her. She loves to learn new things.

Abigail

• Not going to lie, y'all probably made it together!

• She is super hands on with literally everything, and is pretty crafted herself.

• You probably were both making bracelets and then traded at the end of the day!

• They ended up having the same color scheme, totally on accident, so Abigial wears hers all the time.

• She always gets really happy when she sees you wearing yours too!

An* I've never actually written for any of the bachelorettes, so this was really fun!!! They are all just short and sweet blurbs :3

Masterlist

[official-cvntified-gay]

Hi babesssss

How about Sub!AD and Dom!Reader?

(Im a sucker for sub alcina-)

Well anyways thats all really lol, i can't think of anything else since my brain is toasted rn

💞💞💞thankssssss

Let Go

⋆˚࿔ ugh, something about a powerful woman giving up control is scrumdillyyumyum, thank you for this request my darling anon<3

The dim light of the moon filtered through the grand windows of your shared bedroom with Alcina, casting a soft glow across the stone walls. The air was still, save for the crackling of the fireplace that sent warm flickers of light dancing across the room. Alcina stood by the window, her tall frame poised but weary, her usual confident presence seeming smaller in the dimness of the late night. She was tired—not just physically, but emotionally. The day had worn her down, the weight of her duties, the expectations of Mother Miranda, and the constant need to be strong pressing heavily on her shoulders.

You watched her from the bed, sensing the shift in her mood, knowing what she needed before she even spoke. There was a fragility to Alcina in these moments, a quiet vulnerability she rarely allowed anyone to see, and it was in these moments that she let down the walls she so carefully constructed.

“Alcina, my love” you called softly, your voice a gentle invitation. She turned toward you, her golden eyes meeting yours, and you saw the hesitation in her gaze—the brief flicker of uncertainty that passed over her features. She always had to be in control, always had to be the one who led. But tonight, you could see it in her eyes: she didn’t want that. Not now.

She needed release, and you were more than willing to give it to her.

With a soft sigh, Alcina crossed the room, her towering form looming above you as she stood beside the bed. Her hands moved to the hem of her gown, her long, elegant fingers pausing for a moment as if she were debating whether to undress herself. You reached up, placing your hand gently over hers, stopping her movement. Her eyes flicked to yours, searching for something, and you gave her a soft smile.

“Let me,” you whispered, your tone gentle but firm.

Alcina hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly, her breath hitching slightly as she relinquished control. It was subtle, the way she shifted her weight, the way her shoulders relaxed just a fraction as she allowed you to take the lead.

You stood from the bed, your hands moving to the delicate straps of her gown, carefully sliding them down her shoulders. Alcina shivered beneath your touch, a rare show of vulnerability from the woman who was always so composed. You kissed her broad shoulders to help her loosen up. The fabric slipped down her body, pooling at her feet, leaving her standing before you, exposed and raw.

For a moment, you simply took her in, admiring the way the soft moonlight caressed her skin, casting shadows across her sharp features and accentuating the strength and elegance of her body. She was stunning, powerful even in her submission, and it took your breath away.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmured, your hands moving to her hips, pulling her gently toward the bed. She followed your lead without resistance, her breath quickening as you guided her to lie down on the soft sheets. You could see the tension in her body, the way she was trying to hold on to control even as she surrendered it to you.

“Relax,” you whispered as you climbed on top of her, your hands moving to caress the length of her arms. “You don’t have to be strong right now. Not here.”

Alcina’s eyes fluttered shut, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she let your words wash over her. Her hands gripped the sheets beneath her, and you could feel her slowly unwinding, the tension leaving her body bit by bit.

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her neck, feeling the way her pulse quickened beneath your lips. She tilted her head back, giving you more access, and you took your time, trailing kisses down the elegant curve of her throat, savoring the soft gasps that escaped her as your lips grazed her skin.

Your hands wandered down her body, tracing the lines of her figure, memorizing every curve, every inch of her that was now yours to explore. Alcina’s breath hitched as your fingers brushed over the swell of her breasts, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way her body responded to your touch, so eager despite her usual composure.

“Tell me what you want,” you whispered against her skin, your voice low and husky, a gentle command that you knew she wouldn’t be able to resist.

Alcina’s eyes opened, her golden gaze locking onto yours, dark with desire. “I want… I want to feel you,” she breathed, her voice soft but filled with need. “I want you to take me.”

There it was—the admission of surrender, the vulnerability that she only allowed you to see. It made your heart swell with love and desire, knowing that she trusted you enough to let go like this.

You leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, slow kiss, pouring all of your love and adoration into that single moment. Alcina responded with a quiet moan, her hands moving to grip your back, pulling you closer as her body arched into yours.

“Good girl,” you murmured against her lips, and the sound of those words made her shudder beneath you. Your fingers leaving trail of goosebumps as you trace her thighs, you gave her clit a few teasing circles that rewarded you into hearing her grunted moans and sighs.

You took your time with her, savoring every moment, every gasp, every whispered plea that fell from her lips. Your hands moved with practiced ease inside her pussy, teasing and exploring, drawing out her pleasure until she was trembling beneath you, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “That’s it, let go for me.” you coo at her, not resisting the urge to kiss her fervor.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice broken with need against yours. “Please… I can’t take it anymore.”

You smiled against her lips, loving the way she begged for you, the way she had completely given herself over to you. You moved lower, your lips trailing down her body until you reached the apex of her thighs, and Alcina gasped, her hands tangling in the sheets as she fought to maintain control.

But tonight, control wasn’t hers to keep. And you were going to make sure she knew it.

You took her slowly, methodically, your tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to bring her to the edge again and again. Alcina’s moans filled the room, her body writhing beneath you as she chased her release, but you held her there, teasing her, drawing out her pleasure until she was begging for mercy.

“Please,” she gasped, her voice hoarse from crying out. “Please, I can’t—”

“Let go,” you whispered, your breath hot against her skin. “Let me take care of you.”

And with those words, Alcina finally shattered, her body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over her. You stayed with her through it, guiding her, holding her, until she finally collapsed back onto the bed, her chest rising and falling with deep, ragged breaths.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the room filled with the sound of her breathing and the crackle of the fire. Then, slowly, Alcina opened her eyes, her gaze soft and filled with a kind of quiet awe as she looked up at you.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the sincerity in her words was unmistakable.

You smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Always.”

[astralnymphh]

can yoy do ellie massaging you after you've had a long day of work? (i love your fics btw)

⋆˚✿˖° literally eager to do it at every hour of the day. but after the utmost grueling hours of your day, she makes it her job to soothe you. well— provided that she sneaks in a couple (lie) neck kisses alongside those massages. love is a grandeur thing ellie cannot hold herself from, even in the most mundane moments. i guess. try to explain anything to her and she'll get distracted.

silky smooches are laid behind the caress of her fingers, trickling up your shoulders slowly. her hands are good in practice—but that dork has an affinity for distraction, an impulsive mouth. the question is: are you the object of her distraction, or is it her own brain? it particularly takes over in whispers puffed against your neck. “you wanna—” kiss. “tell me—” another kiss. “'bout your day? could use a distraction right now.” and another.

“are you sure you aren't already distracted?” quickly, a smart remark leaves your mouth. a spry use of tongue to masquerade those sighs of easement when her fingers press circles into the base of your neck. you feel her breath graze you, “psh— shut up,” and the heat of her 'shut up' brand into your skin. softened by a punctual kiss thereafter. “thats the point.”

you're unsure on why you even thought to ask, “you're such'a idiot.” because you could only sweep aside her stupid response and stretch your neck out for her; indulging. “'love that about you, though.” sneaking in a compliment, since you know how cherry-flushed they get her. such a sucker for love. “mhm?” ellie hums, warming it through a kiss to your jaw. “last time you talked me up about how smart i am. which is it, babe?” suddenly, her hands were defiant, and roamed your body where 'mundane massages' take place the least; pawing at the plush of your thigh so innocently (another lie), a knowing grin curling at your nape. “cuz' it can't be both..” the tip of her nose is pushing into you, poking for answer.

“i think you choose when to be smart n' when to be an idiot. idiot more often, obviously.” those knuckles bending and pressing into your thigh pause for a glance, followed up by an offended laugh from her, a brief snort coming from her nose. “obviously? obviously? you dick..” ellie is definitely blushing her ass off right now. but her hands resume almost instantaneously, and so do her antsy lips. knuckles flexing into your skin, lips nipping little wisps of skin and suckling.

ellie just couldn't handle being mean to you back—only spare kisses of forgiveness, and let you breathe in every compulsive grope of your thighs, hands making way across every inch of your body. cherishing the way you just melt into her palms. “that feel good? hmhm—know it does.” pride painting her lips at each mewl she can strum from you.

whoops got a little excited there at the end 💜 @/elliestattooo on pinterest for the pic.

[gwynautismfanblog1]

Not going to lie, I was really enthusiastic about the idea of an antagonist figure Caitlyn. Arcane could've woven a phenomenal narrative about how easily people of privilege, even the ones who try to be empathetic to an oppressed class, can be swayed into genocidal fervor with ease when their comfort is disrupted.

To some extent they did, but I wish Arcane committed to the bit and pursued a villain!Caitlyn. Plus I'm a sucker for lovers to enemies and would love to see Vi having to choose between Caitlyn and Zaun. I think they were headed in the direction of a villain arc for Cait but ultimately chickened out on it.

Also, I feel the familial relationship Ambessa and Caitlyn had was such wasted potential. Ambessa and Caitlyn were perfect for each other in a familial way. Ambessa was a bitter mother who was estranged from her daughter, leaving her essentially daughterless in her eyes. And Caitlyn was just made motherless.

The two could've had such well written toxic synergy. It would've been a Greek tragedy having Caitlyn slowly corrupted by Ambessa's influence to the point that when she reunited with Vi, she was barely recognizable. I can't say I'm fond of Caitlyn betraying Ambessa. Ambessa's character definitely stagnated once Caitlyn was out of the mix.

I think right now in the age of radicalization, Caitlyn could have been a very scary and effective cautionary tale about how easily fascist thought can win. That scene with Ambessa recruiting Caitlyn felt so ominous and foreboding, like the birth of a monster. The first act had such a good set up, but ultimately nothing came out of it in my opinion.

Anyways, this is just my opinion and I would love to know if anyone else shared similar thoughts regarding Caitlyn's character arc. Who else wanted a legit Caitlyn corruption arc?

EDIT: I do like the idea of her falling into fascism, but then changing her mind to support the Zaunite resistance. That could send a valuable message that it is not too late to turn back from evil ideologies to any people who've been radicalized.

[edgeray]

One Hell of a Butler Pt. 3

Nightmare (Arlecchino x Fem! Reader Blurb)

A/N: Since y'all seem to really like the demon butler concept, I made another one, also because I wanted to. This one isn't quite as long or plot heavy, but I thought this was cute and I was in the mood for hurt/comfort. I'm such a sucker for this trope. Content Warning: Semi-graphic descriptions of violence, panic attack Series Masterlist

Crimson blood. Fractured bones. Broken limbs. You lie on the ground, shivering, panting, crying. Your muscles betray you, unwilling to obey your command to move as you could do no more than stare. Your legs are limp, only dead weight as you try to crawl in what's a pool of your own blood, you presume. The sting of your aching fingertips sears through your mind, dragging yourself across the floor through sheer grip strength. You don't get very far with your pace, you're far too exhausted and injured to escape. Drowsiness overwhelms you and your eyes beg for rest. Everything blurs, you're only able to make out the color of the concrete floor and the scarlet that seeps from your body. 

A shadow approaches, looming over you as it nears, reaching out its hand. 

And you lurch forward, jolting awake. 

Heart palpitating and breath panting, you wake up to sweat-covered silks and a dark bedroom, alone. You clutch your chest as the closest attempt of grounding yourself, your nails digging into your skin as you struggle against the bed sheets. Finally, you're released from the silk confines, and anxiously flounder over to your nightstand, a shaky, desperate hand searching for the nearest light source: the nightstand lamp. You turn it on after another few moments of fumbling for the switch and then the room illuminates slightly, enough to allow you to find the handle of the knife beside the bed. Your eyes skitter back and forth across the length of your bedroom in search of anyone, and realize, with a shuddering relieved exhale, that no one was there.

Still, the hold on the handle doesn't loosen one bit. You sit up right in your bed, your panicked and alert mind anticipating for an intruder to come in, a monster to come out of the shadows. 

Then there's a knock. On the door. 

Everything inside you stiffens, your gaze hyper fixated on the door as you raise the blade in your hand to a ready position. Another series of knocks occur, and then the doorknob turns with an audible creak that echoes throughout the still room.  

Metal flies from your hand as you throw the knife with pinpoint accuracy at the newcomer, but the figure merely catches the blade in between two blackened fingers. You don't even manage to register the extraordinary feat that was just done, only the onslaught of terror that reigns over your thoughts, ridding all sense of rationality and awareness. 

They've come to hurt you, they've come to hurt you, they've come to h-

“My Lady?” a familiar voice sounds out, one that you found comfort in. You search for it, but she's not there. Where is she? Where is she? Where is she, she's not here, no one's here to save you, you were never saved-

“My Lady,” the same person calls out again. 

Where is she? Why can't you find her? The steps of heels click against the wooden floor and near you, and you know that they're coming. Yet, you can't find your resolve to do anything in your state of paralysis, and once again you're now in the cell where you were beaten, broken, and bloodied, and they've come to do the very same things to you once again and you can't even lift a finger to do anything, not even to scream. Your voice is gone and you have no way to escape as they round the bed, trapping you, encasing you. The silk covers feel like shackles, heavy despite the thinness, your limbs are entangled and they reach their hand out to hurt you once again-

“My Lady,” the sweet voice repeats, and this time it's closer, much closer. It's the third time she calls out to you and you only want to hide in the security she provides. “It's me. I'm here.”

The figure that stands by your side does nothing. It doesn't move, but you try to anticipate its next movements. Why aren't they hurting you again? Why haven't they done anything yet? 

“It’s Arlecchino. Say it.” 

That's right, the voice is Arlecchino. Summon her, summon her, only she can protect you, only she can keep you safe, you need her. You open your lips to speak and you're able to dislodge the obstruction in your throat as you whisper the softest of calls. 

“Arlecchino,” you rasp out, voice strained and hardly audible, but it's not enough. You extend out your hand, seeking hers. More choked and fragile pleas escape your lips. “Arlecchino. Arlecchino. Arlecchino, Arl-"

A hand, cold to the touch, and black as the abyss reaches out, clasping with your outstretched one, intertwining your fingers. Despite the chilling contact, it warms you and soothes your beating heart, each labored breath lessening. A physical reminder that she's here with you now. Your eyes traverse over the ebony skin, from the red fingertip nails, which trace your skin tenderly; to the palmar, with its distinct markings and lines; to the wrist, covered by the carmine ruffled ends of her sleeves; from her sleeves to the entirety of her, until you recognize the figure standing by your bedside is her, your demon. 

She's here, you recognize. 

It's ironic, how a demon is able to quell your fears, dissipating them as easily as she does with your enemies. This being of hell, this monster of terror, this inhumane being, surpassing capabilities far beyond human, consoles–how much blood has she spilled with this very hand that you hold? Are you that decrepit, deprived of human connection that you find quiet solace in this creature’s hold?

You're hardly surprised. 

Her touch lingers as your breathing finally evens out, slowing to that of its typical pace. During that time, she says nothing, only the steady flow of oxygen in and out of you filling the room, and it seems like hours before she breaks the silence. 

“Would you like some chamomile tea?” She asks, raising a hand to brush a strand aside from your face. You finally notice the cup of tea she's placed on the nightstand. With a shake of your head, you scooch forward in the bed, giving you ample space to finally lay back down, your hand still grasping onto hers when you turn on your side, back facing her. 

“Arlecchino.” You whisper out breathlessly, but somehow, she's still able to hear. 

“Yes, my Lady?” 

There's a brief pause, before you answer, “You'll do anything I say, right?” 

“As per our contract, yes.” 

Another moment of silence, this one longer than the last. “Turn off the lights.” 

She does. The room returns to darkness but you're not nearly as disturbed by this anymore. 

“Do demons sleep?” You inquire. 

“Though our bodies don't necessitate it, we can slumber.” 

Again, the state of wordlessness falls between the two of you. Arlecchino nearly pulls away, but your grip on her fingers tighten. 

“Stay.” Then you add quickly, “That's an order.”

Arlecchino’s low chuckle echoes throughout your bedroom. There's the shuffling of fabric, some movements made by the butler but her hand remains in place with yours. Shortly after, she raises the covers and slips underneath. Her cold front presses against your back and her breath brushes against your nape.

“Will you stay the whole night?” 

“I'll stay as long as you want me to, my Lady.” 

[eldritch-spouse]

I reeeeaaaaaallllllyyyyy want a pumpkin cream pie if you get what I mean

I wanna IMPRRREGNATE THAT DULLAHAN!!

Can we imagine his firefly getting her hands on a spell that gives her, like, maybe artificial tentacle cocks or just 1 really big one for a limited amount of time, and she spends all that time fucking Patches and filling him up w cum

:3c

TW: Genital modifications; Egg-preg; Surprise sex; Feral mindset; Large insertions

You glance at yourself in the mirror.

This is certainly something...

You're not going to lie, being stuck inside of Patches' lab while he's attending to "urgent matters" on the other floors is probably toxic for you. Because you always end up touching things you shouldn't, messing with concoctions that probably aren't safe for humans, or reading incantations aloud. Speaking of that last one- Trying to read a paragraph from a book with a leathery cover and suckers on it was ill-advised.

In your humble defense, it looked like a Lovecraftian cliché, and the paragraph you tried to read was the only one that used an alphabet you could vaguely identify.

It's not as if the results were instantaneous. You let the words hang in the air, felt stupid, and simply closed the book, thinking nothing of it...

Only to end up squealing and tearing your own pants off when it felt like your pussy was being warped into a different dimension. You can't even describe the sensation! The panic of feeling like your very nethers were shrinking out of existence, leaving a Barbie-like void in their place, before something wet and gross erupted out of your pelvic zone, proudly installing itself there.

So there you stood, clad only in a shirt, hyperventilating at the sight of a purple-ish mass of tentacles where your regular mound would be. The things connect seamlessly to your skin, glossy and wriggling aimlessly. One of the trio seems to be the main attraction, thick and heavy between the legs of a species that likely isn't meant to carry something as... Endowed. The other two are much smaller, auxiliary almost, ridiculously futile adornments to something that is already capable of easily gaping someone.

Fascinating. You hope it's not permanent, you really do. Even then, maybe Patches knows how to reverse it, right?

To touch upon the thing was to receive a myriad of new sensations your brain wasn't quite ready for, struggling to find new pathways, until oh! It all sparks, and you feel. What it's like to have a cock? No, what it's like to have something so much more different than what a human would sport.

Marvelous...

Hands fumble for the best way to handle this new piece of anatomy. Slimy and wriggly as it is, when you try to handle it the same way you would a humanoid length, it doesn't provide that much satisfaction. Tentative experimentation proves -Ugh, you're starting to sound like him- that using both hands to create a shoddy imitation of a cavity is much more fruitful, providing sparks of potent sensation as the tentacle frantically tries to wriggle past the tight creases of your clasped fingers.

It's actually forcibly trying to squeeze into the gaps between your digits! And the worst part is that it feels good enough that you don't care to stop it.

It's secreting something, but you definitely didn't orgasm. Precum? No, it's... Gelatinous. A tingle spreads across the palms of your hands to the tips of your fingers, causing you to immediately pry them apart and shake it off- Onto the counters of your captor's already messy laboratory. It feels... Numbing?

This spell, whatever it is, grants the bearer a reproduction-oriented appendage, which is probably meant to pierce into someone's womb. It doesn't take much for you to guess that maybe, just maybe, it also deposits something inside. But it's not as if you can feel the presence of eggs within you. Everything about this set of anatomy is foreign to you, how would your poor brain recognize anything of the sort?

Just as you stand there half-naked, lightly tapping the appendages, the noise of a lock clicking open reaches your ears.

And with one inhale, it's as if time stops.

Inexplicably, you become hyper-aware of everything surrounding you. The noises of every little piece of machinery idly running, the growing creak of the door turning open, chatter from people that didn't leave the elevator far away.

Something compels you to turn, and you silently face the dullahan as he walks in, looking tired.

" It's the fourth time this week! I've told them eons ago that the pool bar needs safer- " He freezes. " Firefly? "

While you can't find it in you to move, or look anywhere else for that matter, Patches is clearly taking in your current state. He's nothing if not intelligent, eyelights surfing from your swirling genitals to the very book you've just misused.

It's not uncommon for him to come back to something amiss in his own lab, courtesy of your curiosity, but the undead is usually very quick to find a fix for the situation.

Not this time. He looks stumped, nervous. A bead of magical sweat runs down that gourd head and his carved smile crooks anxiously, gloved hands tentatively closing the door behind him. Patches maintains eye contact.

Although inwardly panicking, you can't help glaring into him, fixated, feeling the monster cock between your legs pulse hard.

There it is, your brain screams.

Hole.

Easy.

Warm.

Fuckmate.

You don't even notice you're drooling until the sound of your own saliva hitting the ground manifests.

Overshadowinging the mild concern on the magic caster's face is a lurid sort of wonder that seems to war with his common sense.

" F- Firefly... I need you to stay calm and still, okay? This- This is temporary, you're in an extremely volatile state a- and-... "

You rip your own shirt off. Your bra, everything. You can't stand anything against your bare skin, it's too much stimulus, too much heat.

He chokes a noise out. " That's fine, that's fine- You're overheating, I- I know-... I'm going to have to put you back in the cage now, okay? "

You don't respond, his gaze flickers to your tits for the briefest second, then your newfound cock. Patches shakes himself back to seriousness.

A silence so thick and so tense compresses your cranium, like a spring, counting down the seconds.

One step.

That's all he gets to do before you lunge.

With a force and drive you've never possessed before, your limbs race past desks and stacks of thingamajigs, tossing everything aside, uncaring of the bruises to later form as your body crashes against Patches'.

He screams, naturally, and the two of you fall to the ground, your nails sinking deep into his arms, holding them to his midsection as you sit on his torso and huff down at the dullahan.

There's a fog caressing your brain, a certain dimness taking over, hiding any and all higher thought and leaving behind only animal impulses you've never felt before.

The monster beneath you trembles slightly. And perhaps if you had more of a mind present, you'd know that Patches isn't helpless, he's never been, he just enjoys pretending to be.

" Ough... Firefly? "

What were you doing again...?

It throbs, sloppily playing against the undead's clothes.

Hole.

Frenzied, gluttonous, you start pushing and pulling at the undead's clothes, frantic and confused. Patches already has a habit of dressing in a weird manner -You'll excuse that on his age- But now more than ever, all you want to do is tear those fabrics away with the sharpened teeth you never had.

You're not getting anywhere, the frustration has you gnawing on his pant leg, shaking it like some kind of feral creature. At some point, you must have bitten his leg because he yelps.

Patches makes a noise, you're not too sure if it was a snort or some kind of garbled giggle, but he eventually mumbles some kind of request and begins fumbling with his own clothes, trembling thin digits struggling to catch the right parts. Excitement? Doubt? You don't care.

Faster- You want to yell at him, but the only thing that comes out is an exasperated groan.

The undead doesn't get to do much more than unzip himself before you're yanking his pants down, throwing them away while he scrambles to get the rest of his outfit off, before it can be ruined by your enthusiasm.

" I- Let's take this easy now- "

He's hard.

Good, that'll help. It's not what you want though.

Uncaring, your one-track mind ignores his useless blabbering and pulls him closer by those green legs, parting them as wide as his flexibility will allow- Granted, being undead gives him a certain pain tolerance and unnatural nimbleness you can appreciate.

Patches gasps, worriedly eyeing the thing between your legs and comparing it to his own body. The size of it... Enough to rearrange organs. Thankfully, he doesn't make use of most of them anymore.

" Firefly...? Earth to my- my flame- Look at me- Look at me... "

You do look at him, for about two seconds, before feeling your tentacle slap onto his pelvis. It writhes against his hard cock, offering the two of you some mockery of friction, the wet sensation causes his back to arch and the resulting noise makes something crackle in your brain, driving you just one step closer to mindless lust.

Wrapping around Patches' dick, it squeezes and prods for something that's not there, slithers past his balls and lands on his ass, squished between his skin, slicking it grossly. Instinctively, it finds its' goal, the ring of muscle that clenches as soon as a rounded tip flirts with it.

" Oh my Lord- "

You spread his legs wider, observing.

" Ah- Ahn- I never actually tested this one out- I suppose mmn- I should be taking notes? "

A frown settles on your face.

No, no this position won't do it.

" Where's... Where's my-? Ohn fuck that tingles- The recorder! "

Patches twists slightly to reach an object deposited on the nearby desk, it was just the motion you needed for an impromptu eureka.

As soon as undead fingers clasp a gray device, you flip him stomach-down on the floor.

" Huh- Oomf! " There's a clicking noise. He starts blabbering something or other, date, time, location, you aren't listening.

In fact, you're more preoccupied trying to get him to raise his ass and bend for you.

" Hh- Human specimen has interacted with Transmutation Grimoire number five, speci -Firefly I need you t- to slow down- Specifically the tantric incantation in chapter six and- And oh Gods- "

The irritating buzz of his stressed words is ceased when you growl and crash his head to the ground, keeping it there as you slot yourself behind the dullahan's ass, spare hand poising on a bare ass to spread him out.

" And although I cannot yet know the timing of this action, I can guarantee the phhhh- Oh- The physical effects have manifested as well as the expected lack of higher awareness and overwhelming urge to mate. I am- I'm currently... At the specimen's mercy. "

Mercy that you aren't willing to give.

Thrusting won't work, because even as your hips angle and roll, the tendril is too restless, not at all like the hardness of a human, slipping past the monster's hole every time. You have to somewhat clumsily guide that thin tip and keep it pressed there, preventing it from aimlessly twirling around.

Your struggling eventually proves fruitful, because as soon as that inexperienced tip forces its way past Patches' entrance, the rest stretches to accompany, unforgiving in its increasing growth.

You pant, open mouthed, muted moans and overheated exhales falling out your lips as your eyes nearly roll back from the wave of sensation raking across your brain. It doesn't leave room for anything else except the impulse to fuck. Anything to keep this ecstasy going.

The dullahan on the other hand, howls.

Maybe it was pain, maybe it was shock, the slick of the massive tendril might have helped the insertion, but truth of the matter is that you must have flipped his dormant stomach when you snapped your hips against his ass and bulldozed the rest of it into him.

Relief. Blessed relief. You hold onto the magic caster with all the strength in your body, legs around his and arms coiled over his chest as you use your weight to keep him pinned. A grossly primal visage reminiscent of wild animals in rut.

" Ohn Gods ahn ffuck- I can feel it everywhere hhhn- " He sounds incredulous, laughing breathlessly. "This is still recording...? Uh- "

Although the tendril stuffed inside Patches starts pistoning without input, instincts collide and you can't help thrusting along too, creating an erratic rhythm that eventually clicks into plunges so deep Patches starts crying like an overstimulated baby.

You don't have the mind to care, don't have the chance to see his face twisted in a depraved, tear-soaked mess as he blubbers and starts arching back into you, trying to cling to his nearby hat for dear life.

Not even five minutes ago he was standing and clothed, now he's getting the guts fucked out of him by his own human captive.

" I wish- I wish you'd fuhh -Fuck I'm cumming I'm cumming ghhn- I wish you'd fuck me this enthusiastically more often- "

It feels incredible, an endless stream of pleasure that strains your vocal chords, for you can't help but moan with every breath, especially when his walls clench down on you with intense force, over and over amidst relentless fucking- Perhaps if you could stop to think, you'd realize you've been forcing him to orgasm several times since this started.

But you can't.

You can't do anything except cry out and mechanically bounce him on monster cock, surpassing your own physical limitations for the sake of climbing to a climax that constantly teases you, ever so slightly out of reach.

At some point, you have the feral impulse to look down, this sick and crooked smile on a sweaty face as you get to watch that ridiculous girth stretch Patches repeatedly, a steady wet clap of sound following the hypnotizing view, overshadowing even your labored panting and the undead's garbled sniffling wails.

For some reason or another, he starts moving a little too much, manic with overstimulation, trying to hold onto anything that can help draw away from the way his ass must be burning and his brain fried with feedback too intense. His cock throbs uselessly between numbed legs, a dirty puddle of his own release beneath it, he's entirely spent and yet can't flag at all, body scorched and confused.

The moment he manages to wiggle forward a bit, a noise of beastial aggravation rips from your throat, and you claw him back to you with malice, one hand reaching beneath him to trap a neck that hardly matters to his survival, while the other reaches to hold his head in place once more, digits hooking into his sockets.

It works well enough, Patches is back to incoherent sobbing and limp beneath your punishing pace.

" Yeah, I found his nasty ass like this. " The waiter snorts, showing his phone to a couple of coworkers.

The break room nearly vibrates with laughter.

" His desire for humiliation knows no bounds. "

Nebul notes, watching the clip of you biting onto the dullahan's back and screaming in pleasure as another concerningly fat oval figure travels from the length of the tentacle attached to you and into the swollen figure of his half-conscious coworker.

" But I can appreciate the knowledge, I was wondering if that incantation could be marketable. "

" BwaHAHA- Do you think those things are alive?! Is gourd for brains going to be laying eggs around? " Vinnel snorts like a pig at his own joke.

" Chicken- " Sybastian giggles, waving his arms.

" UHUHU- Buk buk buk ba-gawk! The human got me preggers buk bawk bawk- "

The two of them have entertained themselves imitating chicken noises.

Gallon looks at his shroom coworker. " Do you think you could cook them? "

Morell viscerally grimaces. " Hell nah, ya fuckin' sicko- "

" Grimbly, send this to me. " Santi mumbles, avidly watching the sad display.

" Eww no, so you can jerk off to it?! "

" Ye- "

The elevator dings.

Not a single sound rings as they expect either Belo or Admin to step inside the room.

Instead, in shambles a disheveled and barely covered dullahan, exhausted, and looking heavily gravid.

Faces turn a variety of colors as everyone holds back any reaction.

Sybastian cackles so hard he spits the mimiclings out his mouth.

[0cta9on]

Cute/Jealousy thoughts on Hanni?

About you giving more attention to Minji, I can't help but think in a story stereotype 🤭, Imagine Hanni being jealous to Minji. How cute it would be in an AU world.😚

Have this baddie Hanni style

Hello mikeylo! As much as I love Minji, I'm a sucker for squishy cheeks and Hanni has her beat in that department :]

Edit: So I'm writing this edit after I finished writing the whole thing, idk if I actually wrote what you wanted :> Hopefully you'll find it entertaining at least :,]

You didn't plan for any of this, it just sort of happened.

The friendship you share with Minji and Hanni is something you cherish more than anything else in the world. Some people place value on material things or special locations; for you, it's the two knuckleheads you call your best friends.

One day, something just clicked. You started noticing small details that you didn't notice before. Suddenly, the Minji you knew your entire life looked different. The way the sunlight dances on her skin, the way her lips curl into the most precious smile, the way her eyes light up when she finds something interesting. Before you knew it, you found yourself being drawn to her in ways that exceed the boundaries of friendship.

You tried to suppress the feelings, afraid of what they could bring on the friendship you cared for so much, but alas, the heart wants what it wants, and one heartfelt confession later, you and Minji are now a couple.

Everything is going great - other than the fact that Hanni has no idea you two are dating. When the two of you first started going out, you decided that you wanted to start out small in case things didn't work out. But as the weeks went by and the both of you started falling deeper and deeper in love with you each other, the task of telling Hanni about your secret relationship became more and more daunting. Despite how happy the two of you are, it felt dirty in a way, keeping a secret from your best friend. You wanted to tell her sooner, but the opportunity just never came up. However, life finds a way, even when you least expect it.

It all came to a head one day when you were at Minji's apartment, making out on her couch. Most of your dates are restricted to each other's places due to the fear of being caught by Hanni, but it does come with the added benefit of not having to worry about the consequences of PDA. Your original plan of simply watching a movie together were immediately tossed out the window as Minji jumped into your arms, interlocking her soft lips with yours. You're not about to argue with her though; her plan seems much more fun.

Suffice to say, both of you are thoroughly distracted with each other's mouths. So distracted that neither of you hear the click of a spare key being inserted into Minji's door, nor do you hear the clopping of footsteps getting closer and closer.

"Hey Minj- OH MY GOD!" Hanni screams, dropping her bag of snacks onto the floor. Minji jumps off of your lap, her eyes wide in shock.

"H-Hanni! Uh, hey what are you, uh, doing here, I-I didn't know you were coming over," Minji stutters, nervously combing through her hair. All you can do is sit there like an idiot and look back and forth between your two frien- er, friend and girl friend.

"What ar- What? When? How? Why?," Hanni blabbers, looking between the two of you with a mixture of anger and disgust. "When were you two gonna tell me you were dating?!"

After exchanging nervous glances with Minji, the two of you silently agree that it's time for her to know the truth (Not like you were going to think up a plausible lie anyways after being caught in such a compromising position). You recount everything in detail - The day you started to feel things for Minji, when you asked her out, why you didn't immediately tell Hanni about your relationship. Hanni never spoke up during your explanation, her expression never changing from "shocked but also curious".

"So, yeah," you say, finishing up your explanation. "We didn't want to tell you in case things didn't go well between us, but then things did go well and we just... kinda forget to tell you. Sorry, Hanni.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too, Hanni," Minji adds, resting her head against your shoulder.

"First of all, ew, don't be doing that couple-y stuff in front of me." Minji quickly removes her head off of your shoulder, looking sheepish. "Second of all... Wow, you guys are really good liars. I never even noticed a thing."

"We didn't feel good lying to you," Minji notes. "We really did want to tell you sooner."

"So this whole time, you two have been hanging out without me!?" Hanni exclaims. "Every time both of you said you were too busy to hang out, you were actually just shoving your tongues down each other's throats!?" Minji cheeks burn bright pink, her gaze falling to the ground in shame and embarrassment.

"Not every time, just y'know... Most of the time," you shamefully admit. Hanni slaps your arm, causing Minji to jump to your defense. This only sours Hanni's mood even more.

"What the heck is wrong with you guys, I thought we were friends!" Hanni puffs up her cheeks in anger.

"We are friends! We didn't know things were gonna turn out like this either!" Minji sighs, sitting next to her. "We should've been honest with you from the beginning, but we didn't and ended up upsetting you. We're really, really, really sorry, Hanni."

The room fills with a pensive silence as Hanni stares at the ground in contemplation. You and Minji exchange worried glances, finding a semblance of solace in each other's eyes. Even though the dynamic of the group changed, you still love Hanni as a friend and hate the fact that you did something to hurt her. You'll do anything to gain her trust again.

"Do you guys really like each other?" Hanni asks.

"Absolutely" you answer almost immediately, smiling at Minji as she cutely hides her face in her hands. "I love her."

"Ew," Hanni mutters under her breath. "If you guys are going on a date or something, tell me beforehand so I can change my plans."

"Of course," Minji responds.

"And if we're all hanging out together, don't act all couple-y and stuff, I don't want to feel like a third wheel."

"Don't worry about it, PhamPham," you say, pinching her cheek. "Nothing is gonna change between us."

Hanni swats your hand away, but instead of being annoyed like you expected, she grins at you. It's a thing you've done to her ever since you were kids. Hanni always had chubby, squishable cheeks, even moreso when she was younger. She hates you when you do it, but you just can't help yourself - They're too cute not to pinch.

"Alright," Hanni says, her gaze shifting between you and Minji. "Do you guys want me to leave or...?"

"No, you should stay and hang out," Minji says, picking up the dropped bag of snacks on the floor. You nod in agreement, although you are a little bit disappointed you won't get to finish what you started with her earlier. Maybe later tonight, if you play your cards right.

Hanni agrees to stay under the pretext that you and Minji wouldn't be "all over each other" while she's there. Unfortunately, that means you have to stay on the opposite side of the couch while the two of them cuddle under a blanket. Oh well. They're your best friends. You're happy as long as they're happy.

______________________________________________________________

Hanni stares at the ceiling of her room, unable to sleep. The exhaustion of today's events should have knocked her out sooner, but the whirlwind of emotions won't let her catch any rest. With nothing else to do, she grabs her phone from the night stand, scrolling through group photos of her with her two best friends. What were once happy memories are now tainted with suppressed, unrequited feelings.

"I liked you first," she mutters to herself, cursed with the knowledge that no one else is listening. Those words become the catalyst that causes the first tear to drop. A light drizzle soon turns into a violent, emotional downpour. Guilt eats away at her brain while regret feasts on her heart.

If only she had been quicker. If only she had been braver. If only.

[forever-rogue]

Hi, I'm too anxious to tell you this off-anon, but the first contact I had with Joel x reader fics was through yours and I just wanted to tell you they're amazing, I can't get enough! So many feelings!!

So I also wanted to ask, if by any chance you're still accepting requests, a Joel x reader fic where reader is incredibly insecure about herself and often questions her worth and perhaps even starts spiralling a bit, and Joel just ends up giving her a "shut up" kiss at some point 🥰🥰 all the fluff and angst, please!

Thank you for boosting me down this rabbit hole, I'm enjoying the ride :D

AN | We always hear about Joel thinking he’s not good enough for Reader, but what if it was the other way around? 🥺 

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.6k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hated watching how women threw themselves all over Joel. All over your boyfriend. It wasn’t like they didn’t know you were together, they just flat out chose to ignore it. Despite his reassurances that it didn’t mean anything and he paid them no attention, it still managed to get under your skin and had you seeing red. Part of you wished he’d just tell them to leave him alone but, honestly, he probably didn’t even know what was going on. Or if he did, he was good at faking it.

“It’d probably be easier to just go over and tell them off,” Ellie smirked as she appeared at your side, silent and stealthy as ever. Damn her. You waved off her concern and turned back to the beer you were drinking, “if looks could kill, they’d all be dead like ten times over.”

“I’m not…no,” you huffed, face turning warm when you realized you’d been caught, “I just happened to be glaring in that direction.”

“Right,” she didn’t believe you for a second, she knew you better than that. She grabbed your beer and took a sip since you were so distracted but immediately coughed at the bitter taste, “disgusting! How can you even drink this?!”

“That’s what you get for underage drinking,” you teased and she rolled her eyes dramatically, “it’s an acquired taste, Ellie Bean.”

“Whatever you say,” she clearly didn’t believe you as she got onto the stool beside you.

“Listen,” you turned to her and tried to keep your expression as neutral as possible, “I’m, ugh, not feeling great so I’m going to head home. Will you let Joel know if he asks?”

“If?” like he couldn’t have a small heart attack when he saw that you were missing.

“When he asks,” you ruffled her hair affectionately, “I’ll see you guys at home, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, although there was a deep frown on her face. She knew you well enough to know that something was up, “you’re alright?”

“I’m alright,” it wasn’t an outright lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth either, “promise, kiddo.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time Joel and Ellie came home, not too much later, you were already in bed. You weren't sleeping, but pretended to be when Joel came into the bedroom. 

"Sweetheart?" His voice was soft, a tone that he only adopted for you or Ellie, as he came into the room and took in your bundled form, "you awake?"

You thought about rolling over and saying something but didn't find it within yourself to do so. You felt bad; he hadn't done anything wrong but you were.. having a moment. 

Instead you remained silent while you listened to him undress and get into pajamas before sliding into bed with you. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling into his chest. You felt him relax as he pressed a few kisses to your shoulder; this man really was a sucker for you.

You had to stop yourself from audibly sighing at the way it felt to be in his arms. It might just have been your favorite place in the world. 

Now you just had to fight off the odd feeling that was settling into your chest.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 Joel had noticed that something was off right away. He was good at reading you, which was both a blessing and a curse. After that night, you went on a downward spiral of coming to the conclusion that you weren’t enough for Joel. Not good enough, not anything enough.

You slowly began to pull away from Joel - and Ellie - bit by bit. At first he chalked up to you not feeling well, or just having a moment, but the longer it became and the further you pushed him away, the more concerned he became. He knew that something was wrong, he just needed to find out what. He wanted, desperately, to make it better but you wouldn’t even talk to him enough so he could begin to figure it out. 

But that was the thing about Joel - he was stubborn and persistent. He didn’t give up on the things he loved. 

He’d never give up on you. He’d wait until the end of time if you needed him too. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I think we should break up," you looked at him with a serious expression but that didn't stop him from almost laughing. You glowered at him and his expression dropped when he realized that you hadn't been joking. You were being…serious.

"Wait, what?" he looked at you dumbfoundedly, like he expected you to start laughing or something, "honey."

"I'm sorry," you shifted your gaze to the floor and focused it on your feet, "but I think this is best for everyone."

"You want to break up?" He repeated, trying to put a finger under your chin in order to get you to look at him. You recoiled from his touch and that was enough to break his heart, "what do you mean? Why are you doing this?"

"Joel," your voice cracked on his name and you tried to look away. At the very least, you didn't want him to see you cry, "I can't…this is just best for everyone."

"No," he shook his head, "I don't think you believe that for a moment. And you're wrong, I know you know that."

"I don't want to be you," you lied, the sound of your harsh words making your own heart break a little. The look on his face did little to help, "I don't want you."

He remained for a few long, tense moments before he crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, "okay."

"Joel…"

"Listen, I love you and if not being together is what you want, I'll respect that," your heart dropped into your stomach; you hadn't really expected him to let you go that easily. You'd hoped for more of a fight…maybe you really were making the right decision after all, "whatever you need to do is fine."

"O-okay," you nodded in agreement, "I'll just get my stuff and go. I-I'm gonna stay with Tommy and Maria for a bit."

"Sure," alright, it was almost infuriating to have him so relaxed, "do you need a hand packing?"

Bastard.

"No," you shook your head, "its alright."

"I guess I'll see you around," you didn't even bother to say anything as you ran up the stairs to pack your little bit of stuff. Joel remained still as he watched you go, shaking his head to himself.

"You're really just going to let her go?" Ellie slicked into the room with a worried expression on her face. Joel scoffed and shook his head, "oh. Do you have a plan?"

"Of course I do," he playfully tapped the side of her cheek, "the women in my life will be the death of me. I'm the one that suggested to Maria to ask her to stay if she said anything about leaving."

"She's been acting off," Ellie frowned as she looked towards the stairs, "ever since that night at the bar."

"I know," he sighed softly, "I have a feeling I know what it is, but I want her to come to her own conclusion."

"Do you think she will?" 

"I think so," he nodded, "and if not, I'll just have to give her a little hand."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You'd been out of the home you'd once shared with Joel and Ellie for about two weeks now. The worst two weeks ever. You missed the two of them like crazy and it seemed like they popped up anywhere you were. Whether it was on purpose or coincidence, it made your heart earn and ache for them.

But you had made your decision and maybe one day you'd move on. You hoped that Joel would find somehow that was actually worthy of him. Even if it killed you inside. 

Joel had hoped that you would have come around by now, but he was keeping an eye on things and maybe planning a little something to speed things up. 

Before he could act on any of his whims and fancies, fate seemed to step in. 

It was movie night within Jackson and you went to offer your mind some distraction. You were hanging with Maria and, despite your best efforts, you found your eye wandering around to look for Ellie or Joel. Old habits die hard.

You found Ellie with a couple of her friends, including the girl she'd confessed was her current crush, and that brought a smile to your face. When you spied Joel, however, your mood soured. 

He was surrounded by a group of women and they were all clearly fawning over him. Gross. You were half invested in your conversation with Maria and a friend of hers but found your eye wandering over to him repeatedly. He became increasingly uncomfortable looking with each passing moment, but when one of the women started putting her hands on him, you couldn't take it anymore. 

You turned around and stomped away from Maria and over to Joel. He wasn't aware of the fact that you were coming over until you were right in front of him and smiling at him sweetly. The women around him parted like the sea as they flared daggers at you. 

"Honey," you leaned up and pressed a big kiss to his cheek. He looked shocked for just a moment before sliding into his role so effortlessly, "its getting late, are you almost ready to go?"

"Y-yeah - yes," he nodded before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him, "I'm ready when you are, darlin'."

"Y'all don't mind if I steal him, right?" You offered up the sweetest, most syrupy smile you could as you glanced around the flock of women that had been surrounding him. They made small sounds but none of them argued with you. They knew better than to cross you.

And it felt so natural to take his hand and lace your fingers through his. Joel naturally took charge as he started to lead you out of the packed building and into the cool autumn air. You walked down in the street in a tense silence before he came to a stop and cleared his throat. 

You stopped too and turned around to face him, wishing you didn't have to have the conversation you knew was coming up.

"So," he said slowly as you exhaled, "that happened. Why?"

"There's nothing much to it," you tried to wave him off but you knew he knew you were lying, "they were surrounding you like a pack of hyenas and you looked uncomfortable. I know that look on your face, Joel. I just…figured I'd spare you."

"Thank you," he whispered softly, "that was it, huh."

"What else do you want me to say?" You threw your hands up in defeat, ready to turn around and run home, "you would have done the same for me."

"Without hesitation," he agreed, "but you…I know better than you think. Tell me that's all and I'll walk away and leave you alone."

But…you couldn't bring yourself to deny him. Opening and closing your mouth a few times, you found it almost impossible to find the right words, "I dunno, Joel. What do you want me to say?"

"The truth," he whispered softly, "I'd like at least that much."

"I was jealous!" You almost shouted at him as you threw up your hands, "I was jealous of those women practically eating you alive with how desperate they were for you!"

"Okay," was all he said but there was a beaming grin growing across his face.

"I hate that they think they can have you," yup. Everything was suddenly bubbling up at once and you didn't care enough to stop it anymore, "you were mine! They don't deserve you, you can do so much better. I-I don't deserve you either. I fucked it all up. And I'm sorry for what I did and said to you but I'm not sorry for what I did back there."

"Sweetheart-"

"I'm sorry for hurting you," big, fat tears had rolled down your cheeks, "but I did what I thought was right. I don't deserve…I'm just me."

"Oh sweet girl," he reached for both of your hands and pulled you closer into his warm frame, "that's what had been about, huh? Silly girl."

"Joel-"

"How could you not think you deserve me?" He asked and you shrugged, sniffling slightly as he wiped away your tears, "you're the only one that will ever get me. If anything, I don't deserve you. Baby, you're it for me. You always have been and always will be."

"Why?" You had a pretty pout on your lips that he was tempted to kiss away, "why me? I'm so plain compared to those women that always throw themselves at you. They're so pretty and I'm not. I can't cook, I'm not handy, and I feel like a liability more than anything! I thought I was doing you a favor."

"Well," he shook his head fondly, "you're wrong on every account. You are the most beautiful, wonderful, and amazing women I have ever met. I don't need anything but you. I love you and only you. And it will always be you."

"Joel," his name sounded like a prayer of relief falling from your lips, "I…are you sure?"

"I've always been sure," he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, "and I still am. I know what I want you - you to come back home and to have you back in our bed every night, to have our family whole again. But it is up to you."

"Are you really sure? It's not just the moment?"

"Baby-"

"Because what if you-"

And then he took your face in his hands and gently cradled it as he held your gaze. A few moments passed before he pressed his lips to yours in a sweet, gentle kiss. It was soft and barely there but it felt so utterly perfect. When he pulled back, you looked up at him with big, wide eyes. 

“Oh,” you managed to choke out as you look at him, “you’re serious then.”

“Of course,” he said in a no duh voice as he chuckled fondly, “but like I said - whatever you want to do is up to you.”

“I want to come home,” there was no hesitation to your answer and that made his heart constrict with happiness, “and be with you and have our family back together.”

“Yeah?” he brushed your hair out of your face before kissing your forehead. 

 “Yes,” this time you took his face in your hands and kissed him slowly, “I want you. Only and always you.”

Before either of you could say anything else you heard a cheer from down the street - Ellie. She waved at the two of you, a big grin on her face, “about time! Welcome home!”

“What the kid said,” the two of you shared a small laugh, “welcome home, sweetheart.”

[christinesficrecs]

Hi Christine, I know this is a long shot but long story short - lost my saves file a while ago and cannot find many of most favourite fics, I have countless quotes saved from them. I am sharing some with you in hopes people recognise the fics they're from if you post this. I will love you forever.

Derek’s first kiss in four years tastes like fresh-squeezed orange juice and makes his stomach flip like the drop in a rollercoaster. Stiles holds him close like he’s thanking him.

About the summer he spent in Ireland because there were pictures of his mom posed in various tourist sites at Dublin and Dingle and the Giant’s Causeway--places that he wanted to experience personally since he never got to ask her first-hand.

Derek looked at him for a moment, and wow, okay, this was why people wrote songs about love and painted pictures and wrote poetry, because he was pretty sure that he was falling in love with Derek Hale if only because of the guy's beautiful eyes and earnest expressions and his everything. God.

In some ways Stiles has done a lot of growing up since then, but a part of him thinks he’ll always be that scrawny, ridiculous kid at heart, whose greatest joys in life were Froot Loops, cheesy disco tunes, and masturbation.

Stiles gets back from his year abroad in Hungary with more muscles and the first of his tattoos, a knotted rope that runs the length of his spine.

Hey, Derek, can you do me a solid? Nothing serious, just, you know, screw my brains out, that’s all.

He meets Stiles’ gaze from where he's leaning against the back wall, his eyes catching glints of light amid the shadows. Certain people are just meant to live under the open sky.

Whatever he says afterwards, whatever happens between them, there will always be this, the long late afternoon with the sun skidding red in the west, and he will always know what Stiles looked like the first time someone filled him up to the hilt. There are no acrobatics. Nothing fancy happens. Derek feels like the ocean breaking helplessly on the shore, the tide rising, spilling him over.

there’s something about the shape of him, the way he’s huge and solid and beautiful and always thirty seconds away from admitting total defeat that rubs Stiles raw and tender.

“People are so exhausting,” he murmurs, and Stiles is glad to know it: that he isn’t people, that he counts as a kind of between places, maybe even as home.

Updating with the ones that magv1 found. Thank you!!!

Hot Single Dad Derek Hale by WhoNatural | 13.3K | Explicit

Wherein Derek is a Hot Single Dad, possibly with a little case of martyrdom, and Stiles is the newest client at his publishing house who really just wants to make him happy. Preferably while they're both naked.

^^^^^ #1 & 2

But Then What... by Stoney | 24.3K | Explicit

Senior year is almost over, and all Stiles needs to do is keep his head down to survive. A teacher calls in a favor, leaving him stuck tutoring Derek Hale, one of the most popular jocks in school and a member of a group of douchecanoes who have bullied Stiles for years. He's someone Stiles totally hates. Totally. Like, doesn't like him even a little bit. DEFINITELY isn't attracted to him.

Except that is a total lie. Fuck his life, seriously.

^^^^^ #3

My Life is not a Horror Movie, Derek by DiscontentedWinter | 38.9K | Explicit

Stiles keeps dreaming of people in robes with knives. With chanting. In Latin. And he mentioned the knives, right? That can't be good.

^^^^^ #4

i need your sway by thatworldinverted | 11.1K | Explicit

Stiles always figured it would be Scott who saw him through his first heat. They pinky-swore on it, in fact, when they were eleven and newly-presented. There haven’t exactly been an abundance of offers between then and now.

What there is now, though, is the pack, and pack takes care of each other.

^^^^^ #6

Sucker Love by whiskey_in_tea | 17.9K | Explicit

Kate sits up and narrows her eyes at him. “Page 72,” she says. “Why I Plan to Wait, by Stiles Stilinski.”

The spread is hilariously cliched: a full page picture of a pale, pretty boy with a wide-eyed blonde girl walking on the beach, the two of them holding hands and staring into the waves, probably thinking wistfully of the sex they aren’t having. Derek skims the text briefly. “Speaking up about the importance of virginity!” he exclaims. “Reclaiming chastity a a masculine virtue. Our friend Stiles sure is brave.”

“See, I was thinking he might make an interesting challenge,” Kate says lazily. “And he’s surprisingly attractive, don’t you think? Such long fingers. And that mouth.”

^^^^^ #8

[nightwonder7]

i’m so :(( thinking of fool’s golden being afraid of hurting alice he avoids her like the plague for a while but he’s still norton so there are times where he can’t help but want to pick her up and hug. at first alice was freaked out, norton or not fool’s gold is huge and any sudden movement could end up with a broken bone on her end, but when she notices how still he’s trying to be as to not hurt her and how his grip is surprisingly loose compared to how norton’s survivor identity hugs her she can’t help but pull through the rough edges and cold seeping through her clothes as she tries to comfort fg as well as she can. she’s smaller and her arms are cramped from trying to hug as much of him as possible but she can feel how the rock formation seems to loosen slightly, as if his body was relaxing the longer they stayed in the position.

compared to norton, i think fool’s gold is significantly more open about his emotions (most negative) so there are times where the two will just sit in silence as norton grapples with the reality of his double identity in the manor and alice does her best to support him in all his forms – because at the end of the day norton will always be someone she loves regardless of his appearance or how afraid of himself he is. she doesn’t know what he’s gone though and she can’t fix his mistakes or regrets, all she can do is offer her support and assurance that she’ll stick by his side even if it means having to endure awkward hugs and long nights where no words are shared.

nortalice makes me sick to my stomach :(( i need to grab them as dolls and make them kiss

HHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh God they are destroying me! ;;;0;;; I'm a real sucker for this right here >o<

Norton trying to protect Alice from himself by staying far away from her while she tries to prevent him from isolating himself completely cause she knows it'll just hurt him in the long run and she wants none of that ;_;

He has become a monster with a body that was made to destroy, and he tries to come to terms with it. Is it karma? A cruel joke? His past finally catching up to him? Or maybe he was always rotten and it's just the Manor unlocking his full, horrid potential. Who could ever love somebody like that? He withdraws from everyone; especially Alice, yet despite his efforts he still can't shake off his desires for warmth and closeness. It is with Alice's insistence of not letting go of their bond, not giving up on him, that he caves into these desires. He will pick her up or kneel down to embrace her ever so carefully. Sometimes he will lie down or sit leaning against a wall with her on his lap or lying on top of him. While he is basking in her soft touch, he forgets all about his troubles for a moment. When he isn't focusing on not hurting her, he can finally relax. She's so bright and gentle and everything he is not. Norton sometimes wonder how someone like her could fall for someone like him. But he doesn't dwell too much on it while he is holding her, because these moments are too good to let go of in these gloomy times.

Gosh, I love them so much,,, Thank you so much for sharing this, anon!! QAQ I truely enjoyed it!

[spidybaby]

Stressed

Summary: When he's stressed and worried about work, that's the only thing on his mind.

Warnings: angst because I'm a sucker for it 😤

A/N: So I'm inspired, and you already know I love angst, I breathe angst, I eat angst. (Okay, I'm done exaggerating), but lemme know how you are? Are you drinking water? Hope you're fine 💐❤️

Since Kylian sent that letter to the higher-ups of PSG about not wanting to stay until 2025, everything is drama.

The french tabloids, for some reason, want him to look bad, want him to look like this ungrateful man.

He's experiencing too much pressure, Sergio leaving, Lionel leaving, possibly Verrati leaving. It was a mess. The whole teams is.

Especially now that this dumb reporter, her name is Sam, she's all over him about the whole side of him about the leaving, the selling, the quitting of Galtier. He's done with her, with the other reporters, with the ultras hating him for even breathing.

"Don't worry, Kyky, everything's going to be fine." Sergio pat his back, Kylian was one of the first ones to know about his retirement of the club. "Don't let that chick got to you."

"I just want her away from me." He drinks too fast for what he's used to. "Can't she cover something else?"

"Look, hermano." Ney says, he had to deal with the same reporter a few months before. "Just tell her something completely different from what she's asking, and she'll leave."

He knows she just wants to write something before anyone else, something that comes from his own, not for speculation. "Lie to her."

He scuff, it's not that easy to be away from her when she's also part of the PSG press people. She has access to everywhere. That makes him uncomfortable.

"Mira Kylian." Leo says. He's not new to this whole press drama. "Just don't mind her, ignore her, saying you have to be somewhere." He smiles, nodding to his advice.

Leo and Sergio are the ones he trusts with this media hate. They're goats, and they come from a long road. He can't deny that even Neymar is an expert. But he's been there for his own stupid mind, even tho he denied it.

He followed the advice Leo gave him, always ignoring her, saying the usual bonjour or a revoir. Nothing else.

That made her mad. She even asked Galtier for his number, not caring about writing him. That took him to the limit. He couldn't escape her. She was everywhere and anywhere at the same time.

"Don't stress, mon amour." You say kissing his cheek. You're massaging him, wanting to help him relax. "I know it's hard, but I'm here for you. It's only you and me."

You tried everything for him to relax, you didn't know the whole story. He never told you about this reporter. So you only think it's because of the whole letter drama.

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"Bonjour, Kylian." Sam says, looking at him. She's blocking the door of the lockers. "Can we talk." She raised her eyebrows.

"I'm busy." He tries to pass her, but she's not moving, and the last thing he wants is touching her or making any type of contact. "Please move."

"Just five minutes." She says, begging him. "And I'll leave you alone forever."

"I prefer you to leave me alone now." His voice is this deep tone. He's done with her games. "Get out of the way." He ask nicely.

"Four minutes." She begged again.

"Sam, out of the way."

"Three."

He breathes deeply, and he's losing his temper. "I'll say it only one more time, and believe me, that I hate repeating myself." He grabs her arm, not hard but the right amount of pressure to move her gently. "I'm busy." He's mad. His whole day is ruined, thanks to her.

He enters his car, asking the driver to take him home. He's supposed to go to his mother's house, but he's too mad for that.

He arrived home funding. His train bag is now on the floor, you're home early, and you notice the noise, thinking maybe he fell.

"Are you okay?" You ask from your bedroom. Maybe he's hurt. "Ky? Amour?" You talk louder this time.

After a few minutes, you hear the footsteps on the stairs. A very agitated Kylian enters the room. "Hi, handsome." You say, opening your arms to him.

"Remember how you said you can take the stress out of me?" He sais breathless, you nod smiling. "Do it."

You throw the covers away from you. Ready to attack your boyfriend with kisses and attention. Your lips feel heavy on his own. He's tense. You can feel him.

There was no other reason for his mind to be elsewhere, hes uncomfortable by the fact that he has Sam on the back of his head, tunning after him, basically harrassi him.

There's no other reason for him to focus on anything other than you. The way your lips feel on his neck, the way your hands are touching the right places, the way you're making him feel good.

His hips are moving to a very fast pace. He's not one to take his frustration on you, but the way you're moaning his name and how your nails are scratching his back is making him lose control.

He doesn't know how, but it happens. He can't take her name out of his mind, now even when you're taking him so well.

When he dips his hips at a certain angle, the back of your head digs further into the pillow, and he attacks the exposed side of your neck. He's leaving red marks, marking you as his. The groan that's escaping his lips are pornographyc.

You could feel nothing but him, the weight of his body over yours, the thin layer of sweat on his back under your fingertips and on his forehead, making the hair close to your neck to stick to it.

What's making the entire situation so much worse is the fact that no matter how much he tries, he can't stop thinking about her. Not in a sexual way, but angrily wanting her to go away, to leave his mind alone.

His hand is griping your waist so hard. He knows he'll leave a mark. Moans coming out of his mouth. “Fuck, you feel so good.” he goes faster, knowing by the sounds you're making that you're close.

"Sam-" that's when he stops. His whole body stop. He doesn't know why he's saying her name. His eyes are open in a panic.

"Get off," you say out of breath. Your heart is beating as fast as if it's going off your body. "Get off of me."

You push his shoulders for him to get off of you. He pulled out and tried to explain. "Y/n, please, I didn't mean to do that."

Your mind is lost, one moment you're under him, holding him closer, kissing him and enjoying him.

And now you're pushing him away, not wanting him to touch you. You grab the covers of the bed. You wrap it around your body before running to the bathroom.

"Amour, please." He tries to grab your arms. "Amour." He almost catch you, but he's not fast enough.

The next thing he knows is you slamming the door in his face. He can hear the way you're breathing and how you sob. The sound is making his heart hurt.

"I promise I wasn't-" he can't even think of an excuse. He's fucked up, he's hearing the way you're crying and can't think of how to solve it. "Listen, she's a reporter that has been harassing me. She's always on me, and I".

You open the door, interrupting his explanation. You're standing there, tears running down your face, blanket around your body, eyes sad.

"Mon amour." He doesn't know if he can touch you. He doesn't want to make you more uncomfortable than what you already are. "I promise it's not what you think."

You pass him, walking to the room to get your clothes, dressing yourself again, hurried to get away from him.

"Please don't go." He says, hand grabbing your arm. "Please, let me explain." He feels like crying, not wanting to let go.

"Not now." You get off his hold. "I can't do this. Please get away from me." You push him lightly.

"Don't go, I'll go, but you don't have to go." He dresses himself, not wanting you to leave. "I'm fucking sorry." Your back is facing him. You can't look at him in the eyes.

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The past week, you were running away from Kylian, leaving extra early for work and returning while he was still training.

For him, it was hard not being able to speak with you. But you needed time, and he's willing to let you have it. Even if that hurt him in the process.

For you, it's been weird. You can't wrap your mind around the fact of what's going on. For you, it hurts that he didn't trust you enough to talk to you about what's happening, and the other part of you is your ego being hurt by him naming another girls name.

You were sure with a talk and being honest, you both can make up. You trusted him when he says he has never been with her, but you also needed to know the whole story.

The sound of keys jiggling is the way you know he's home. When he walks he sees you sitting on the couch.

He's tired, everyone is hating on him for the stupid tabloids, and he can't even find comfort in your arms because he hurt you without intended to.

"Can we talk?" He swears the sound of your voice is magical. He missed it. He missed you. He nods and takes a seat next to you. "Who's Sam?"

He didn't hesitate to detail the whole thing. The things his playmates advised him. "Kylian, why didn't you report her to the management?" You're mad, not with him but with her for being such a bitch and harass him about a stupid football news.

"Because I thought she was going to leave me alone." He yells, frustrated. "I can't do this anymore."

You hug him, caressing his back and him cry his frustration. His not crying about her. He's crying about the news, about the hate, about the media not leaving him alone.

"I'm here, don't cry." You kiss the top of his head. "I'm sorry I didn't hear you before."

"It's not you, I'm the one who made the mistake of letting her abuse her power." He let you dry his tears. "I'm so done."

"It's not your fault. Don't say that." You kiss his cheeks. "You're fine now, I'm not letting her or anyone hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable." You hugged him. Promising you'll never let him feel that way again.