#so he can kill them without anyone noticing should he need to

[volvolts]

ok so one thing i cant stop thinking about is that i think that belos should have less grimwalker corspes

not because of downplaying his evilness like even killing one is bad but like. the logistics?? how many grimwalkers did he go through? how many of them with wildly different personalities? appearances? hunter is shown walking around the castle without his garb and the other coven heads KNOW what he looks like. the last golden guard was darius' mentor. was that in secret and he was killed when belos found out or did he allow that?

morever did all of them think they were belos' nephew? hunter was pretty open telling luz about this fact so did every single one say the same thing? they were ALL named hunter after a while so did no one stop to think about that?

[cherryredstars]

Idk what wrong with me but I've been craving some highschool oneshot, or anything tbh

So I hope if u could do badbad!Miguel x goodgirl!nerd?

I have no idea what I meant by goodgirl!nerd,let just make her an good girl who always an big time nerd in the school,who loves helping people out,especially when it come to tutoringor tutor some students,so when miguel ask for her to tutor him,so he could catch up with his grades,she say yes to him,but he really didn't need the tutoring he just wanted to play around with reader (he would been craving for some of her attention,he would have an interest in her without anyone notice) he loved teasing,flirty, and most definitely love making her all stuttering and blushing mess,but what he hate how people who think that have their advantage over reader,eye fucking her with their eyes,it just makes his blood boil,his fist clenching in anger,but he deals with them later (beating tf out of them for thinking that they can touch what his) but not feeling satisfied he just had to show u who u belong to,and make you his,so on one can try to get u before him

Idk what wrong with me like I can write when I'm zoned out (also could u pls put nfsw pls)

Anyway have an great day

Pairing: Badboy!Miguel O’Hara x Goodgirl!Reader

Warnings: Protectiveness, Suggested Physical Fighting, Smut, Slight Exhibition, Marking, Praise, Lots of Curses and Mentions to Disney

Summary: All good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you. (Get it..like the song)

A/N: THIS REQUEST IS SO!!!

Word Count: 4.5K (Barely Edited)

It doesn’t take much to notice you. 

He sees you all the time, sitting in the front like the good little girl you are. Batting those innocent eyes up at every teacher as you shoot your hand up to answer every question with a bashful smile. Eyes you as you go up to different students, reminding them of tutoring sessions or offering help. His good little girl just wanted to make sure everyone graduates with passing grades. Just want to be so helpful for everyone, to feel needed. He could make you feel needed. Only if you’d let him, only if you needed him as much as he needed you. 

When he calls your name, your head shoots up instantly to turn to him. Your cheeks heat up when your eyes meet his, a smirk spreading on his face. He calls you over, finger forming a ‘come here’ motion. You instantly obey, getting out of your seat and standing over his desk. You flutter your lashes shyly at him, fingers fidgeting together as you try to kill the redness on your face. Miguel hums lazily, hand reaching out to play with a strand of your hair resting on your shoulder. Your hair is soft and silky against his fingers, his eyes watching as it twirls around his fingers.

“Tutor me.” He says simply, eyes blazing a lazy trial up to your face. His expression is one of boredom, except his eyes are glistening with mischief. 

The eye contact makes you flush deeper, face practically a tomato as you refocus your gaze to his ear to avoid his gaze. A stuttered response leaves you, uncertainty masking your voice as you ask him what he needs help with. The question momentarily pauses his movements. Truthfully, he doesn’t need help with anything. He has a high class rank, closely following behind your up and coming valedictorian title. In the end, he replies with science, a class he has a perfect grade in. You instantly agree, shyly giving him a time and day to go to the library for his sessions. 

He always shows up a few minutes early, you find him on his phone as his feet are propped up on a secluded table with his chair leaning on its back legs. A lazy smile crosses his face as he watches you walk over, not caring for the science workbooks you set down at the table. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze, finding it hard when he sets his feet down and leans closer towards you as you explain the material in quiet, stuttered sentences. He simply hums along to your explanations, not really listening as he brushes his shoulder against yours, accidentally grazing your hand when he points to a random paragraph, pressing the side of his knee against yours under the table. 

Each touch makes you stop talking, body tensing as a flush covers every inch of your skin. His touch burns against your skin, causing your voice to waver and fingers to tremble. He drinks in every reaction, interrupting your explanations with questions whispered too close to your ear in a flirty tone. They’re questions he already knows the answers to, but he just wants to keep hearing you talk and stutter. He’ll make you late to your next tutor session with a pout, teasing that he still doesn’t understand what you’re trying to teach him. It always causes your eyes to soften towards him and make you promise that you’ll move your schedule around to make room for a sooner tutoring session. It always causes Miguel to puff up with pride at his clever antics and for his heart to beat faster at the thought of spending more one-on-one time with you. 

When he’s not with you in his lovely tutor sessions, he keeps his eye on you. He watches you in the cafeteria as you offer someone your lunch because they didn’t bring any money and don’t have anything to eat. He smiles slightly to himself whenever you get stopped by an underclassman and you fuss over making sure they get to the right class and don’t end up lost in the halls. He gets slightly annoyed and furrows his brows when you hold the door open for a long string of people and only a few of them acknowledge your kindness with a thank you. You’re just so nice and he wishes he can have that sweetness of yours all to himself. Especially when he sees some random ass fuck trying their go at you. Because, of course you’re not just nice and smart, you’re a total fucking knockout. 

You have the sweetest little face paired with a body any man would get on his knees to worship, (a thought Miguel thinks about very often in the comfort of a bathroom or his bedroom), the shiniest fucking eyes that always blink up at everyone like they’re the most interesting damn thing you’ve ever met, and a voice that drips of honey and hidden sex appeal. And if it isn’t your looks that instantly draw them in, it’s that perfect personality of yours. Always kind and patient and funny. You’re always walking with someone in the halls, making everyone you’re with laugh and crave to be the subject of your attention. You’re a goddamn magnet, and everyone wants to be connected to you. You’re the type of woman that would convince any man to settle down, to drop to a single knee and ask you to be his for life. Because everyone knows that you’re a once in a lifetime girl and no one will ever come close to you. Every boy (and some girls) in this damn school wants a chance with you. 

And that pisses Miguel the fuck off. Because while you’re wife material, most boys here don’t even meet the requirements to be considered boyfriend material. Sleezy fucks who want a trophy wife that will suck them off after they come home from some meaningless job that they sit around all day doing nothing at. Immature cunts who think they’re funny when they poke fun at insecurities and claim it's a joke. Disgusting toddlers in overgrown bodies who don’t deserve to be in the same universe as you are. But, of course you’re still nice to them, and of course they think it means they have a chance with you. 

Miguel is always clenching his jaw and preparing his fists whenever he walks into the library to meet you after one of your earlier sessions to see some disney channel-looking fucker trying to sweet talk you. Key word being ‘trying’, because he can tell from a mile away that you’re still trying to be patient even though your body language screams ‘I am so close to slapping this boy with my textbooks’. The thought makes Miguel snort out a laugh that instantly dies as he watches some Zac Efron wannabe lean closer towards you. The asshole’s eyes instantly drop to your chest, where your textbooks are causing your boobs to be pushed together, revealing the most mouthwatering sight. Miguel’s eye is practically twitching when the dude’s slimy fingers come to run down your arm with the ugliest smirk Miguel has had the displeasure of seeing. 

Miguel doesn’t hesitate to walk over, walking slowly as he stops at the end of the table with a bored and displeased expression on his face. The boy, who’ll probably end up as a drug addict in his 20s, looks very annoyed at his presence. Even muttering something about Miguel being a ‘cock-blocker’ under his breath. The retort makes Miguel lift his brow in surprise. He didn’t know Mickey Mouse Junior even had a dick. Must be one of his magic mousekatools, he concludes. 

Miguel ignores him, instantly turning to you. The grateful look on your face as you stare at him makes Miguel puff out his chest, proud of himself for making you feel better. His body loses the tiniest bit of tension as you smile softly at him. “He bothering you, princesa?”

You instantly widen your eyes, moving to shake your head when Donald Duck speaks up, “I think you’re the one bothering her, actually.”

He must have been a mosquito in his past life, Miguel thinks to himself, it would explain why he’s so fucking annoying. Miguel turns over to Shrek’s brother and stares him down. The boy instantly looks like he might piss his pants, but keeps his position as much as his wobbling legs can, “I think you should leave Miguel. I’m sure she’ll be…preoccupied for the next hour or two.”

His comment makes you cringe from the applied meaning and Miguel sees absolute red. He has to laugh at what this fucker thinks would have happend if Miguel didn’t show up. Yeah right, like this motherfucker could last that long. Miguel grabs the front of his collar with a tight grip, almost pulling the poor boy over the table. A vein is visibly running down Migue’s neck as his jaw clenches. 

“Puta madre. Cuando termine contigo, no podrás tocar nada nunca más.” Miguel grinds out, shaking the worthless piece of shit slightly before turning towards you in a nicer, softer tone, but still laced with a bit of tension: “Go find us a nice table, hermosa. I have to take care of something real quick.” 

You can only nod, watching as Miguel leaves with the boy out the back entrance of the library. You wince slightly as the door closes rather loudly, feeling a bit of sympathy for the boy who most likely won’t schedule another tutoring session once Miguel comes back. You spend the next 20 or so minutes preparing the secluded table Miguel likes best. Laying out all your books and supplies, sitting still and then getting antsy and shifting things to straighten them every few minutes. 

When Miguel finds you, he walks over with his hands in his pocket. He looks just like he did a few minutes ago, his hair just slightly disheveled. Your heart might have actually stopped when his hand leaves his pocket to grab yours that are drummin nervously on the wooden table. His hand is rough compared to your soft one as he bends down and brings it to his face. His lips are soft, if not slightly chapped, when he presses a fleeting kiss to your knuckles, mumbling an apology for taking so long as he stares into your eyes. Your eyes are wide as you stutter out reassurance that it’s fine. Miguel simply hums before dropping your hand and going to sit down. He pauses when your small hands grab his once again.

Your thumb strokes over the redness and slight purple color of his knuckles, something that definitely wasn’t there when he first came in, hinting at what happened outside of the library building. A slight crease appears between your brows and your lips are in a sad pout.Your eyes don’t leave his hand when you mutter, “You’re hurt.” 

Your concern makes Miguel slightly happy, liking the idea you care for him. He slips his hand into yours, bending back down as his hand goes under your chin to lift your face. Out of sight from peering eyes, he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, mkay?”

Your stuttered and shy state makes him smile, muttering how cute you are as he finally sits down. You have to clap a hand over your mouth to conceal a squeak when Miguel grabs the seat of your chair and pulls it closer to him, practically connecting the edge of the chairs. He casually throws his arm over the back of your chair, not doing any dramatics like faking a yawn or stretching. You stare and blink at him, nervousness bubbling in your stomach as he leans in closer. “Are we going to start or what, mami?”

He keeps his smile to himself, watching as you clear your throat and scramble to open your science textbook to where you had left off the last time. He just sits and watches, fingers ghosting over your shoulder gently, feeling nothing like the other guy. He listens to what you’re saying faintly, pointing at some diagram in the book. He thinks you asked him a question because you stare at him patiently, yet expectantly. He turns to you, shrugging, “Can’t see the model clearly.”

You nod, moving to push the book closer to him before his hands are on your waist. He leans fully back into his chair as he lifts you off yours and into his lap. He pulls the book in front of the both of you, head resting on your shoulder as he hums. “That’s better. Now ask the question again.”

Your brain stops functioning for a second, Miguel’s hands leaving your waist to rest against your legs, fingers slightly caressing the side of your thigh. Your nervousness makes you squirm, and his hands instantly grab onto your thighs tightly with a hiss. He grinds out for you to ask the question again, but he doesn’t sound aggressive. His voice sounds more pained and desperate. You nod with a gulp, hesitantly reasking the question that he pretends to think about before answering correctly just to hear your praise. 

As you continue talking, Miguel’s fingers rub the skin just below the ending of your skirt. You try to ignore the touches, but your body melts against his front as your voice quiets and you shift your body slightly to press into him. Miguel’s breath tickles your neck and your thighs clench as a single finger slips under the material of your skirt. It just barely skims over your panties, and your breath hitches. Miguel smirks at your reactions, asking you what’s wrong as he slowly moves your leg so it hangs over his leg. You’re a stuttering mess, brain malfunctioning when his hand comes back and caresses the crotch of your panties. Your cheeks flush, knowing it’s damp in arousal. 

A quiet groan leaves Miguel as he moves your panties to the side, letting his fingers rub against your bare pussy. Sticky fluid instantly clings to his fingers and his head turns to press kisses against your neck, his free hand coming up to your chin to tilt your head to the side for more room. Your hand comes down to hold his arm, eyes closing as the tips of his fingers tease your entrance. When he hears your slight whimper, he looks up to your face and pulls his fingers away, moving them to trace circles in your inner thigh. 

The small sound you make in protest causes him to chuckle, “Shh, shh. Keep talking, baby. You’re supposed to help me, remember?”

You open your mouth to protest but his fingers are back, this time slowly sinking into your heat instead of just teasing with his fingertips. Your eyes instantly close again and you let out a shuddering breath. You open our eyes, trying to focus on the words in the book. When you begin to read and explain a scientific equation, Miguel’s fingers reach knuckle-deep into you. You can hear the muffled sound he makes as he continues to suck and kiss your neck. Your weak explanation is cut off when he pulls his fingers back and pumps them into you, curling his fingers. The beginning of a moan is let out before your hand clasps over your mouth. Miguel laughs evilly as he continues moving his fingers. 

You're sure this is a game to him. Everytime you stop explaining things, he stops and tells you to continue. But once you start talking, his pumps and curls his fingers faster, causing you to cut yourself off when sounds of pleasures. You’re a mess by the time you finish your explanation, hips grinding into Miguel’s hand and fingers clutching to the edge of the table for stability. 

Once you say your last words, Miguel speeds his fingers up and bites into your neck, “Good girl. Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl for me, yeah?”

You don’t hesitate to nod, face screwed up in pleasure as you reach closer and closer to the edge. Miguel leaves your neck, licking the bite soothingly before tilting your face back towards him. He muffles the loud moan you make as you gush around his fingers with a deep kiss. He bites and sucks on your bottom lip, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he savors the taste of your lip gloss. His tongue swipes over the seam of your lips, causing you to part them as his tongue explores your mouth. 

His fingers move to lazy pumps, working you through your orgasm before stopping completely. Your body shakes slightly against his, and he smirks into the kiss before pulling away. His fingers reappear from under your skirt, covered in your white cum. You both watch as he part his two fingers, white strings connecting the two. You let out an embarrassed whimper, watching as Miguel brings them up to his mouth, licking them clean. Your taste instantly floods his mouth and he practically rolls his eyes back. Of course you’d taste so fucking sweet and delicious. His fingers leave his mouth with a small pop, hurriedly coming back to kiss you again. A shy moan leaves you at your own taste. 

Miguel’s hand moves your other leg, spreading you out fully so both of your legs are pressed into the sides of his thighs. His hand leaves your chin and scoots you further up his leg, working on undoing his jeans just enough to stick his aching cock out of his underwear. The head is red and leaking, precum sliding down his length. His hand comes to pump himself before he moves you back over him, his cock resting against your ruined panties. 

“Move your panties to the side for me, yeah?” He mumbles against your lips. You comply instantly, pushing your panties to one side, moaning when Miguel takes a hold of his cock to align it with you. He pushed slowly into you, his hand releasing his cock to hold onto your thigh and to cover your mouth as you continued moaning out. He throws his head back with a choked moan the moment he bottoms out, holding still to bask in the way your tight cunt swallows him and squeezes around him. 

“Feels so fucking tight. Feels like I’m in heaven.” Miguel hisses out, his hips thrusting into you experimentally. 

The cutest of mewls leave your mouth, causing Miguel to nose your cheek almost lovingly. He takes his time, lazily thrusting into your pulsating pussy in an attempt to hold himself back. But he’s wanted this for so long. He’s wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to just be near you since the moment he laid eyes on you. And he’s here, in the goddamn school library, and you’re letting him fuck you as you sit on his lap. It feels like a scene straight out of some fucked-up erotica or porn video. Would it be too much if he started thanking you until he’s a babbling mess?

A strangled noise leaves Miguel when you start fucking bouncing on his cock, impatient with his slow speed. Instinctively, his hips speed up. The sound of wet squelching filling the small, unoccupied section of the library. Anyone can walk over, some poor student or librarian in need of a book only to find his good girl riding his cock so desperately. The thought makes his balls tighten and he has to distract himself before he blows his load into you too soon. He buries his head into the curve of your shoulder, shifting the hand that covers your mouth to stuff two of his fingers past your lips. Without even asking, you start sucking on them as you lift your hips up and down. 

“Good girl. Good fucking girl, princesa.” Miguel praises into your ear, his hand leaving your thigh to pinch and play with your neglected clit. It causes you to squirm and for your steady riding to falter. “Oh fuck. Taking my cock so well, yeah? Taking it is so good for me. Holy fuck!” 

More curses leave his mouth as he pounds into you, shifting his hips until he hits that gummy spot inside of you that causes you to wrap your arm around his neck to hold on for dear life. Your pussy just keeps quivering around him, milking him for the cum you so desperately need to be filled with. The cum he wants to fill and claim you with. The thought of you walking out of the library, hell going to tutor another student, with his cum flooding your pussy and dripping through your panties is something he’s fantasized about for months. His pure, innocent girl tainted with how dirty she is by fucking him of all people, in a place where anyone can see how naughty she really is.  

“Miguel!” 

The sound of your muffled call makes his eyes snap open from their closed position, He looks up at your face, watching as a line of drool drips from your stuffed mouth. He has to groan and give you deep thrusts as a thank you for the pretty sight. As he thrusts, he realizes how much your walls have contracted, practically trying to trap his cock inside you. He notices how much your body is beginning to twitch and he knows you’re close. Your eyes look hazy and the muffled moans you let out add on to how close you must be to coating his cock. 

“Wanna cum on my cock, love? Gonna cum and make you all mine, yeah?” He whispers into your ear, slowing his fast thrusting in exchange for hard and deep thrusts that cause you to whine. You desperately nod your head, babbled and incoherent nonsense being said around his fingers. 

Miguel let out a low chuckle, speeding up again and relishing the happy noise that vibrates in the back of your throat. Your walls clench around him like a heartbeat for a few blissful moments before you're screaming around his fingers as your back arches and thighs shake. Miguel moans as he feels you cum around him, the lewdest noises coming from your wet cunt as he hammers into you for his own release. A sweat builds up on his face as he drives into you, trying to push in and out of your tight walls that only seem to tighten the more he thrusts. 

“That’s my good fucking girl. Came so beautifully around my cock.” He mumbles, looking down to where the two of you are connected to see the most gorgeous white ring at the base of his cock. He can feel himself twitching inside of you, on the brink of exploding. 

Miguel bites into your neck as one last act of claiming as he spills into you, his hips not stopping as he pumps you full of his seed. A delirious moan comes from you as you feel his warmth, but you seem happy as you melt into him. Your skin is sticky from sweat, arousal, and Miguel’s saliva when he pulls his face away from your neck. The bite mark is red against the purples beginning to stain your skin. He can feel himself getting hard again at the sight of it, but he refrains from taking more than what you’ve already given him. 

He lifts you up slightly, moaning as a mix of cum slowly falls from your hole, dripping onto the underside of his semi-hard cock. It drips down, merging with the cum that still sits at the base of his dick. He makes you stand between his legs, your upper body pressed against the table as you try to recompose yourself as Miguel lifts up the back of your skirt to study your glistening pussy and thighs. He pressed a small kiss on your pussy lips before readjusting your underwear to cover you again. A proud smile graces his lips as he watches the previous wet spot in them get darker from the cum still trying to leave you.

When he pulls the skirt back down, he finds you looking over your shoulder with a shy look. His beautiful good girl is back to her doe eyes and flustered cheeks. Miguel tucks himself back into his underwear, zipping himself back up. He takes the time to lazily look around, amazed that no one realized what was happening or witnessed it. He stands up off the chair, looking back towards you and wraps one of his arms around your middle to pull you up against his chest. 

The tiniest of squeaks leaves you as you meet his hard chest again, looking up at him with amazement. You can’t help but study his face, admiring the way his lashes flutter as he blinks and the way he looks good from even this angle. HIs eyes look down at you briefly, a lazy smile coming over his face as he shakes his head. He works on packing up your things for you, closing the unneeded textbook and stuffing it and your other supplies back into your bag. When he’s finished, he shifts his face down towards you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 

The sappy smile that appears on your face makes his heart beat fast and for his own cheeks to heat up. He gulps and clears his throat, looking away as his hand starts rubbing the skin it rests over. He slings your book bag over his shoulder, the pastel color of it a large contrast over his entirely black attire. He stares back down at you, pushing hair out of your face and tilting his head at you. 

“Do you have another tutoring session to go to now?” He whispers softly, smiling when you shake your head no wordlessly. He hums in pleasure, his arm sliding from around your center and down to your hand, dwarfing it in his. He gives it a tight squeeze and pulls you with him as he starts walking towards the exit. You follow him with no resistance, just hurrying your pace to keep up with his long strides. 

“Where are we going?” You ask as the afternoon sun instantly hits both of you when you walk out the door. He pulls you straight to his car, opening the passenger door for you and closing it before putting your bag in the backseat. You watch without question through the windshield as you buckle in and he rounds the car to go through the drivers’ side door. After he buckles in, he turns and starts reversing, not answering until he’s out of the parking spot and turning the wheel back to straighten it. 

“Imma take you home so you can change.” He says simply, turning to throw you a quick smile before grabbing your hand again and intertwining them as he clutches onto the gearshift. “And then, I’m going to take you out on a date.”

Part 2

Literally the longest thing I’ve posted because I love this request so much! I now reached 100 pages in my writing doc. As always, SpanishDict was used.

[darkbluekies]

OMG SILAS WEDDING? YES PLZ THAT SOUNDS SO GOOD

Saying 'I do' is like a death sentence

Yandere!mafia OC x reader

Sumamry: Silas gets you to marry him

Warnings: threats, mentions of murder, guns, forced marriage, dubcon kiss?, violence, mentions of punishment, trauma from said punishments, possessiveness, jealousy, family drama

Word count: 3.5k

Things have been awfully quiet these last days and you've noticed a certain spark in Silas’s eyes. You didn't think much of it before seeing his second in command — whose eyes are normally dead — light up. But no one has talked to you.

You’re sitting in the window, looking out over the front yard and the houses down the street. You’ve seen school children come home from school and their parents join them with grocery bags. They’re living so … normally.

There's a knock on the door, which makes you even more confused. Silas doesn't knock on his own bedroom door. His second in command walks in.

“Y/N, you're going to come with me”, he says.

“Why?” you question.

“You will see. Come.”

You hesitate. Silas has told you countless times to never listen to any of his men, never walk somewhere with them. The only one you should listen to is Silas, the only one you should ever walk somewhere with is Silas. He has tested you before to see if you would leave the house with any of his members … and you’ve been greatly punished for it.

But Silas’s trusts his second in command … you know that he would never betray Silas.

“You don’t need to be afraid”, the second in command says and waves at you to come over.

“I don’t want to be punished …”, you whisper.

He takes a step forward. You press yourself closer to the window. It’s another trap, you’re certain of it. Silas is standing outside the room, waiting for you to take the bait. This is the final level, to see if you would listen to the man he trusts the most, one that you think that you can listen to. You shake your head quickly.

“Y/N, you can trust me”, his second in command says and puts his hand on his chest. “I swear on my mother’s life that I won’t get you into trouble.”

“Has Silas told you to get me?” you question carefully.

“Yes.”

Slowly, you get down from the window and walk over to him. He puts his hand on your back to guide you out of the room, into the corridor and down the stairs. Your heart is beating loudly against your ribs. What if the second in command is lying?

“Where is he?” you ask as you make your way down to the first floor.

“I am taking you to him”, the second in command says calmly.

You stop and turn to him. “Please promise me that this isn’t a test, and that I’m not going to get punished.”

“Y/N, I’m not lying to you. Silas have asked me personally to drive you to him.”

“Why?”

“You will find out once we get there.”

“Okay …”

You follow him out to a car. He holds the backseat door open and lets you jump in.

“Put on a seatbelt or else Silas will kill me”, he tells you.

You pull the seatbelt over your body and clicks it into place while the second in command walks around the car to sit down in the driver’s seat. You watch the houses as you drive by.

“I really thought that this was going to be one of those tests …”, you admitted hesitantly while scratching your nails. “I really don’t want to go down to the basement again.”

“I understand that.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Depends.”

“Don’t you ever feel bad for … what happens in the basement? To any of the people unfortunate to end down there?”

“Not necessarily. Most of the people that gets thrown down there has done something to deserve it. You see, Y/N, Silas never hurts anyone without a reason. If he could have it his way he wouldn’t hurt anyone, but people are stupid enough to cross and challenge him.”

“What would he do without it? Isn’t that how you’re supposed to survive and climb the ladder in this world?”

“He would do his business and trading without hurting anyone. In a perfect world, people pay on time and doesn’t try to steal territory. No human likes hurting anyone else — unless they’re psychopaths, but that’s rare. Even the most gruesome killers have guilt.”

“But how can he hurt someone he loves? I could never do what he does to someone I love.”

“I won’t meddle in your relationship, because that’s not my business, but things aren’t black and white.”

“I wish things could be colorful for once.”

The second in command sighs and turns on the radio. You listen to the music as the landscape outside the car swishes by. You don’t recognise anything, except for a supermarket chain that you used to shop at. Soon, you start to think that the silence between you two feels sickening. You can’t stop thinking about what awaits you once the car stops.

“I know that you’re not allowed to actually conversate with me, but can we just … talk about anything?” you sigh and shrug while trying to find a suitable conversation topic. “Could be about the weather.”

“The weather?” the second in command scoffs and smiles in amusement. “Fuck no.”

“How far is it left?”

“Around fifteen minutes.”

“You don't talk much normally, don't you?”

“I talk when I have important things to say. Otherwise, why should I? I get paid to act, not to talk.”

“I don’t get paid at all.”

The second in command tugs at his smile. “You still have it better than the majority of us.”

When the car finally stops, you look around to see that you’re by the beach. The second in command opens the door for you and helps you out. You look around and feel your heart sink when you see where Silas is, and what’s surrounding him. Candles and flower petals. You stop right in your tracks as you go stone cold. You’ve feared for this day.

“What are you stopping for?” the second in command asks and gives you a small push. “Come on.”

You notice a gun in his hands. On stiff, frozen legs you stumble towards Silas. The sand feels heavy under your feet. Silas smiles and takes your hand.

“I think you can guess what I’m going to do”, he says cheekily and takes up a small, black box out his pocket.

You shake your head, but Silas doesn’t seem to notice — or care. He gets down on one knee. You try to pull your hand out of his grip, but he tightens it.

“I don’t think words can explain the amount of love I feel for you”, he starts.

It’s not love. It simply can’t be.

“I know that I want to spend my entire life with you”, he says, looking up at you in awe.

“N-No … wait-”

He opens the box. “Will you marry me?”

You can’t breathe. You know that if you answer no, you might get to taste the gun in the second in command’s hands and you’ll definitely end up in the basement. But you can’t answer yes. If you do, you will be bound to Silas for all eternity. You will have to wear a ring claimed by him, take his name, officially be his. You will be known as his husband/wife forever.

“Y/N, I think that you better want to answer ‘yes’”, he whispers warningly, “for your own sake.”

You hesitate, going through every possible scenario. Every scenario where you decline him ends in physical and mental pain — not only to you, but probably to your family as well. If you accept his proposal, you will trap yourself deeper into his spider web and get tortured for the rest of your life, but you won’t piss him off. You can’t win, no matter what you choose.

“Okay …”, you whisper in defeat. “I will.”

Silas’s face lights up. He shoots up from his knee, wraps his muscular arms around you and devours your lips with his. He pulls your hand to him and places a ring on your finger. The ring is made of a shimmering gold and multiple glistening diamonds. You can’t help but stare at it.

“Congratulations, boss”, his second in command smiles. “You’re going to have a marvelous wedding.”

“Let’s go to a restaurant to celebrate this”, Silas smiles and start to walk with you in his arms. He gives his second in command a tap on the shoulder. “You too.”

The man smiles and follows.

You eat at his favorite restaurant, but you can’t seem to swallow any of the food. A lump has formed in the back of your mouth, preventing anything from passing it. Silas conversates with his second in command, only noticing your sulking after finishing his own food.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks, touching your cheek. “Are you not hungry?”

You shake your head.

“That’s okay”, Silas says softly and caresses your shoulder. “Do you want to take it in a togo-bag?”

You nod.

That evening when you get back home, you’re allowed to sit at Silas’s place at the end of the long rectangular table in the dining room with your heated food. You can hear Silas’s men move through the house. Silas and his second in command are in his office to plan the wedding.

You notice that someone is about to sit down on the first chair of the long side of the table. A man you have never spoken to before.

“Hi, care if I keep you company?” he asks.

Too shocked to answer, he takes your silence as ‘yes’ and sits down. You glance at the open door towards the hall and swallow thickly.

“You shouldn’t-”, you try to tell him, to warn him about Silas, but he cuts you off.

“I heard that you got engaged today”, the man says slowly and looks down at your ring. “I guess that I have to say ‘congratulations’.”

“Yeah … thanks …”, you mumble dreadfully. “But you really should-”

Your sentence is cut off by the man in the chair getting ripped up by a harsh force. You hadn’t heard Silas and his second in command leave the office.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Silas questions and pushes the man away from you. “Do you have a death wish?!”

He signals for his second in command to get rid of the man. Silas sighs heavily, runs his hand through his black hair and sinks down on the same chair he had ripped his worker from. You avoid his eyes.

“Are you okay, little thing?” he asks and you can hear how he’s trying to stay calm. “Why didn’t you tell him to walk the fuck away?”

“I tried”, you mumble. “Twice.”

“He knows better than to talk to you. Seems like you’re even more irresistible now that you have a ring on your finger.” He sighs and rubs your back. “You’re mine, and soon they all will know.”

Days go by. Silas’s second in command takes you to try dresses/suits, but for the most of the time you’re in your bedroom, waiting. Every day takes you closer to your wedding day, that horrifying moment.

And finally, one day, it’s time. Silas’s second in command has taken you to a venue where you’ve gotten your own room to get ready in, but when the time is due for you to walk out and say your vowels, you refuse to come out of the room. There’s nothing you want less than to get married in front of people that you hate. You can’t imagine anything more humiliating.

“Y/N, come on”, the second in command says as he opens the door. “Everyone is waiting!”

“I don’t want to do it!” you burst out, full on panic.

“Silas have spent a lot of time and thought about this for you. He has even invited your family. Would be a shame if they came here for nothing, don’t you think? Don’t you think that they want to see you again? Don’t you want to see them one last time?”

You give the second in command a glare. He walks over and grabs your arm, helping you up on your feet.

“Come on”, he says. “We don’t have all day.”

He’s going to walk you down the aisle to deliver you over to Silas, as planned and try to pull your arm away from the second in command, but his grip on you tightens. The second you get into the venue and see the rows of chairs filled with Silas’s men, his family and your family, you stop, eyes tearing up when seeing your parents. Realization hits you again. You’re not only getting married, you’re also saying goodbye to your old life — a life that you will never get to live again. The second in command drags you past all the guests, over to Silas. You stare at your family, taking them in. Haven’t they changed since last you’ve seen them? Aren’t they looking older? Do they think that you’re different? Do they still recognize you as their little boy/girl? Silently wishing that they would stand up and object to everything happening, you continue your way down the aisle, towards Silas. Surely they have to understand that you’re not doing this by your own will? You would rather be at home with them.

You feel how the second in command moves you over to Silas. The ceremony seem to go by in a fuzzy daze. Words are being said but you're not sure who says them. You're brought back to reality when you hear Silas say ‘I do’. Your first instinct is to pull yourself away from him, but he doesn't let you.

“Your turn, Y/N”, he whispers with a tilted smile. “Tell everyone how you're giving yourself to me.”

Time seems to have stopped. You look out over the audience, at your poor family. They look nauseous. You wonder what kind of threats they have been told to keep them silent in their seats.

And you notice someone else — someone you never thought Silas would invite. Ares. You know that he hates his little brother with all his might, why would he invite him to his wedding? The day that's supposed to be his best day ever. You guess that the older couple by him are Silas's and Ares's parents. You have never met them before, but it's clear who Silas’s has gotten his face from. He's a spitting image of his father. Ares resembles their mother more.

Silas opens up his blazer to show you a gun, which you don't have to doubt is loaded.

“If you — or anyone — tries to object in this marriage, Y/N”, he starts with a dark voice, dangerously close to your face to make sure that no one will hear, “they'll die. Do you understand that?”

You nod unnoticeably, too mortified to do anything else. You understand him very well, and you believe him.

“You better say ‘I do’”, he whispers, voice even darker. “You belong to me. You are mine. Do not ever forget that.”

“Promise me that they won't get hurt”, you whisper as quietly as you can.

He takes your hand.

“I promise”, he says and kisses your knuckles harshly. “Say it.”

You clear your throat to make sure everyone will hear you, so that you don't have to repeat yourself. Giving yourself to this man once is enough.

“I do”, you say.

Everyone but your family and Ares claps. You're puzzled by the look on Silas's parents faces, as if they're not happy but still want to support their son. The rest of the cheering guests wear bright smiles, happy for their boss. You don't dare look at your family.

A new, bigger and more flashy ring gets placed on your finger and you put Silas’s new ring on his with shaking hands. You try to pull the collar of your clothing to the side, to be able to breathe.

You've kissed Silas’s before, but never like this. Never in front of so many people. You don't have time to think before his lips are on yours and you accept it, knowing that you've already signed your life away, refusing to kiss him won't change a thing.

The afterparty goes on without you. You don’t want to see everyone celebrating you when you never want this in the first place. You are allowed to go back to the room where you had gotten ready and sit in your solitude. You can’t help the tears running down your cheeks in silence. What have you done? Could you have done something differently? No, you couldn't. If you did, your family would get hurt. Instead, you’ve trapped yourself in a venomous spider’s trap.

You hear the door open and hurry to wipe your tears.

“Uh … hi”, a familiar voice says.

You turn to watch Ares close the door behind him. You freeze. If Silas finds him here, your wedding will be even worse … and frankly, after everything Ares have done to you, you don’t want to be alone with him either. You stand up and try to leave the room, but he stops you.

“Wait, let me talk to you”, he says.

“Don’t touch me”, you hiss.

He pulls his hand back and sighs.

“It shouldn’t be you and Silas”, he says in defeat. “You didn’t want to marry him, I saw that. We can run away now and you’ll never have to see him again.”

The proposition alone makes you scoff.

“And why would I want to go anywhere with you?” you spit angrily. “You’re as sick as Silas! I don’t want anything to do with any of you. It’s bad enough that I’m stuck with one … I don’t need the other. Leave.”

Ares twitches his black eyebrows and pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Alright then. Guess I’ll have to force you with me.”

“If you touch me I will scream.”

He gives you a glance as if he’s weighing the outcomes. In a quick motion, he grabs you, trying to pull you over his shoulder. You scream and hit him, causing enough commotion for the door to swing open and for Ares to be ripped off of you. Your vision is blocked by someone dressed in black.

“Get the fuck away before I kill you”, you hear the man in front of you say. “I mean it.”

You expected it to be Silas, but it’s his second in command.

“Touch my boss’ wife/husband again and I’m breaking your neck”, he warns and rolls up his sleeve.

“Why don’t you get the fuck away and let me do what I want to do, hm?” Ares responds harshly.

“You’re really asking for it, aren’t you? This is a wedding, don’t be stupid like usual, Ares.”

“I’m stupid? Have you seen my brother?!”

“Leave, Ares. I don’t want to cause your parents any more pain.”

“What’s going on?”

Silas’s voice makes you want to crawl into a hole and never come out again.

“What have you done, Ares?” Silas asks coldly.

“You’re just going to assume that I’ve done something, huh?” Ares growls.

“Why would my man waste time talking with you unless you’ve done something completely idiotic?”

“I heard Y/N scream and found Ares trying to kidnap them”, the second in command says and reaches back a hand to make sure that you’re still there, or to console you.

Silas turns his face towards his brother, his black eyes burning with anger. Before Ares has time to defend himself or throw an insult, Silas has hit him. Hard. You watch how blood seeps from his nose.

“Don’t think that you can ever try to take them from me”, he warns. “They’re mine. See the ring on their finger? Belong to me. I have all the legal rights to say that now. Don’t fucking think a thing.”

Silas puts his arm around your shoulders.

“The only one that gets to touch them is me, so put your greasy little hands away before I cut them off and force you to eat them”, Silas warns him coldly. He turns to his second in command. “Let’s go home, I don’t want to sabotage the after party.”

You’re pulled along out to Silas’s car.

“I should have known that this wedding would have drama”, the second in command sighs. “Why did you even invite Ares from the start?”

“Because I wanted him to see Y/N giving themself to me”, Silas smirks. “To annoy him.”

“You’re supposed to be older than him.”

“Oh shut up, let me have some fun.” He turns to you, growing softer. “Are you okay, little thing? Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head. If anything, you hurt him when clawing at him.

“Good”, Silas smiles and caresses your cheek. “Let’s go home.”

In the car, he takes your hand, inspecting the ring with a cocky smile.

“Now you're officially mine”, he whispered, looking at you with intense, dark eyes. “Forever. And there's nothing you can do to separate us.”

[luveline]

i lowkey need to see stripper!reader and spencer again

for you gorgeous ♡ fem

cw adult themes

Hotch and Spencer draw attention at the strip club for the same reason but in varied fonts. They're both reminiscent of your regulars, Hotch the picture of a businessman with a wife to forget and steam to blow, and Spencer the silent sweetheart, pretty but too shy to talk to normal girls. 

He doesn't need a normal girl when he has you. 

You're glad for your cover up clothes as you lean against the dressing room door. One of the bouncers peers at you from the corner of his eye. 

"Trouble?" he asks. 

"Not sure. Probably not." You wave until Agent Hotchner notices you. To your delight, he raises his hand politely. 

You step around the bouncer and bypass the stage to the lighter area of the club where they stand in wait. "Hello. I could've met you outside." 

"Would you?" Agent Hotchner asks. 

You don't need him to explain. It's not the most professional thing, loitering in a club like this. You follow them out of the club and onto the street, cold even in your sweatpants as the wind rails. Spencer lets you squeeze his fingers in greeting, but that's all. 

"It's nice to see you again, Agent Hotchner," you say honestly, giving him a smile. 

He doesn't return the pleasantry, but Spencer swears he's softer than he looks so you choose to run with it as Agent Hotchner says, "We need information on one of your patrons." 

"Tennis Lawley," Spencer adds. 

"Tennis," you repeat. "I thought my pseudonym was bad."

Spencer gives you a quick look. I'd laugh if I weren't at work, it says. "We think he's involved in a string of killings in Washington DC. What do you know about him?" 

It's not an exaggeration to say you've played therapist for Tennis and a ton of guys just like him. Being a stripper, an exotic dancer, whatever anyone wants to call it (though Spencer usually just calls it your work) has pros and cons. You've felt it to be heavier on the con side, but this is a big plus, being able to assist someone you care about with something important. It makes you feel useful for once, like you're more than the froth of the city. "Ask me anything," you say, hiding your cheek from the cold with a deft hand. 

Spencer and Agent Hotchner ask you all sorts of questions, personal to their suspect and less so, and for the most part you're able to answer them. You can tell from the look on Hotchner's face that he's both surprised and extremely satisfied by your knowing, and he emphasises his thankfulness with a touch to your upper arm before he says goodbye. "Your help is invaluable, Y/N, thank you." 

Spencer, your sweetheart, stays for a more thorough farewell. 

"Have you eaten yet today?" he asks, the hand you'd squeezed earlier leaping for yours. "You look tired." 

"It's getting close to midnight, Spence. I'm alright. You and Agent Hotchner should head home and rest yourselves…" You bring your hand to his cheek but think better of yourself, pushing your arm over his shoulder instead for a hug. His own arms contract around you immediately. "I miss you lately, where have you been?" 

"Everywhere. I miss you too," he says. Despite the months of knowing one another, and the many states he's seen you in, you know without looking that Spencer is blushing profusely. 

You kiss his cheek as your heels return to safe ground. "Come and see me again soon, okay? And bring your rich friends. The older one, Rossi, is he really a millionaire? A divorced one?" 

"Yes, he is," Spencer says with a laugh, his voice climbing higher, "but I don't think he's looking for another wife right now, sorry." 

"Maybe Agent Hotchner–" 

"Stop calling him that." 

You look Spencer straight in the eye, nearly caught off guard by how sweet and soft they meld at your touch where your hands linger in his. 

You often think that you and Spencer aren't meant to be. Your life, whether willing or unwilling, by choice or design, is entirely focused around your body, and Spencer's world revolves around his mind. You know that what you do for work isn't anything to be ashamed of, but you have the same doubts as anyone else. You know what people think of you. You wouldn't blame Spencer for thinking the same things. And you wouldn't expect him to want to be with you in any aspect that wasn't physical. 

But when he holds your hands in his like this, as though they're made of something delicate, something he wants to map every detail or by fingertip alone, you wish things were different. 

You clear your throat. "I really do miss you when you're away," you confess. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Don't be." Your hands miss his the millisecond you pull them away. "I guess I shouldn't keep you. Your boss will be wondering where you are." 

"Are you okay?" 

You can't even pretend it's a strange question; you're acting strange. "I'm fine, Dr. Reid. My nice new boss knows I know the feds, and all the girls are jealous of me when you guys come to visit. They think I'm on your payroll." 

Spencer quirks a puzzled frown, brows pulled together tightly. "You're harder to read than most people. Have I ever told you that?" 

"I guess it's 'cos I spend so much time pretending I'm a different person," you say, smiling to prompt him into smiling back. 

"Maybe." He pulls his bag from where it rests against his hip and opens it, rummaging through the contents with a confused murmur until he pulls out the shape he'd been looking for. "Here. Don't go to bed hungry, okay?" 

Spencer puts a protein bar in your hand. 

He steals a quick hug and leaves not long after that, crossing the dark parking lot to the mass of the dark SUV he arrives in. With one hand, you clutch the protein bar until it takes a new shape, and with the other you blow two sweet kisses, a cheesy, gaudy gesture that never fails to make your favourite special Agent blush. 

[ghcstao3]

soap who grew up with a grandmother who constantly warned him about all the kinds of fae folk that existed, how to tell if someone was something, how to avoid them and how to fend for himself were anything to happen.

as a child, he soaked up all of her stories with awe, keeping all the rules in mind. as a teenager, he’d secretly roll his eyes but go along with her words to appease her. obviously fae folk weren’t real.

as an adult, not seeing her so often, he kind of… forgets. the stories and rules stay dormant in the back of his mind, never completely lost, but they’re not relevant anymore—at least, so he thinks. it’s all been dumbed down to fae folk are bad, and that’s about all he needs. soap goes years without so much as thinking the word fae, and his life goes on just as normally as anyone could have anticipated.

or, well. as normal as it can get, being in the sas.

and then he’s invited to join an elite task force, and that’s where he meets ghost.

soap doesn’t think it’s too odd to regard ghost as strange right away, not with the whole mask and mysterious persona thing, but as he gets to know the lieutenant more, there are certain things that start to have soap on edge. that have him thinking about fae lore more than he has in years.

like how his eyes reflect light like a cat’s at just the right angle. or how sometimes the way he talks just sounds off, almost like he’s trying to mimic someone else. the first and only time soap sees ghost’s face, there’s something uncanny about it that he can’t quite put a finger on. the tells continue to add up as soap starts to really look, and while he could never say exactly what ghost is, soap is sure as hell he isn’t human.

but the thing is… ghost isn’t bad. not in the way soap’s grandmother had warned him fae folk would be, at least. sure, ghost is a damn good soldier who’s garnered quite the kill count through various honed, deadly skills, but he isn’t bad. or evil, soap should say—even with questionable decisions, ghost’s heart always seems to be in the right place. he doesn’t have bad intentions unless something involves getting revenge, and he doesn’t unnecessarily hurt people just for the sake of his own entertainment.

it’s all confusing for soap, to say the least. his conflicting knowledge leaves him wondering if he should be trusting ghost, even in spite of the plentiful times ghost has proven he’s trustworthy. soap wonders if he should say something, wonders if he should drop hints he knows, wonders if ghost would be dropping an act the moment he’s been made.

the conclusion is pretty anticlimactic, all things given.

ghost catches soap alone after soap has had his realizations, having immediately noticed something off about the sergeant—which isn’t right, because soap is the human. he asks if something’s the matter, soap spills everything, and ghost doesn’t even flinch. just tells soap that his suspicions are justified, because ghost is a changeling.

“you’d admit it, just like that?” soap asks, dumbfounded.

ghost offers a stiff shrug, and no further explanation. he leaves soap feeling stunned, returning to whatever it is changelings do in their down time.

as if that didn’t open a whole new can of worms. as if a dam wouldn’t burst, and a million questions would come flooding into soap’s mind.

maybe he should pay a visit to his grandmother some time soon. it’d be nice to know whether he’s now in danger of being eaten, or something. soap can’t remember.

and now somehow, for some reason, soap has a burning desire to get to know ghost even better.

maybe ghost is evil, despite all prior judgements.

(or maybe soap is just in denial about a few things. but one thing at a time.)

[pyrodolls]

SUPERFAN! AND STALKER! YANDERE BOYS X READER HCS

WARNINGS: obsessiveness, sfw, murder, mentions of corpses, just overall unhealthy behavior cuz they're yanderes. (i do not condone yanderes irl and this is for writing purposes) gender neutral reader, no use of y/n.

A/N: guys idk why i havent updated in so long. ig i just havent had much motivation?? anyways ummm i'm still super busy right now and i have 400 assignments due in 3 days but i don't wanna do them soooooo how about i write some short and cute headcanons for y'all? 😁

if bayani was a puppy hybrid...

clingy clingy CLINGY

bros going wherever you go. even if u gotta take a piss he's gonna hold your hand. wait, you don't want him in the bathroom with you? at least let him sit outside!

he is very easy to distract, though. if you ever want to be alone for a while but he just won't leave your side, throw a tennis ball somewhere and it should keep him busy for a solid 10 minutes.

loves snuggling with you. he literally distracts you and takes up at LEAST one hour every morning trying to keep you in bed with him. if you leave him alone in bed, he'll be whining until you come back.

he's also very talkative, and always yapping your ear off about random nonsense, until you tell him to shut up. problem is, if you tell him to shut up, he isn't going to open his mouth again for a few days. he'll be very sulky about it and look up at you with those big puppy dog eyes of his, silently hoping you'll allow him to speak again. as much as he loves hearing you yell at him, he still doesn't want you to be mad at him for long periods of time.

he'll eat anything you cook. you could be the worst cook in the world and burn your dish to a crisp, and he'd still eat it up like it's nobody's business. he doesn't even notice if it's well cooked or not, he sees anything you create as a masterpiece.

but this also means he's like a guard dog! even though he is quite small and his face isn't very intimidating, he tries! he goes to the gym frequently so he can be stronger for you. he wants to be able to defend you if anything goes wrong.

he is very patient. if you have any work or assignments you need to get done, he'll sit and wait however long you need him to. he'll even bring you beverages and snacks so you can keep working without getting up.

overall, he has some similar traits to a puppy, but he's still the same optimistic (and obsessive) bayani.

if victor was a cat hybrid...

LMFAOOO good luck getting away from him.

bros a silent killer. he watches from afar. if you happen to feel his eyes staring at the back of your head, and you look to see if your feeling is correct, he'll snap his head the other direction so you don't suspect a thing.

he follows you around, but unlike bayani, he wouldn't stop if you asked him to. and he isn't in your personal space, he is much farther away so it's harder to tell when he's tailing after you.

and like a cat, he proudly brings you dead things and is convinced that you would like it. usually he kills anyone that seems to be too close to you, and shows it off like a trophy of his affection and strength.

victor would kill someone and be like: "this week's new corpse looks awesome. they'll totally love this, i gotta show them!" (you did not, in fact, love seeing the rotting corpse of your friend on your doorstep.)

he guards your house as if he's a soldier at war. if he sees anyone break in, or if it's an insect that happened to fly in through your vents, he'll eliminate the threat before you even notice it.

he's also quite moody. sometimes he's affectionate and kind to you, then the next minute he'll act like a brat and expect you to cook and clean for him.

and if you called him out on his behavior, he'll act all pouty and mutter: "i don't do that.." then he'd get up and silently do some chores around the house as an apology. if you brought up his acts of service, he'll get flustered and say you were "too lazy to do it yourself" or something along those lines.

overall, he's quiet, moody, and does things his own way. unlike bayani, victor doesn't do anything you ask him to do, but he still shows his affection for you in his own subtle ways.

[ivys-garden]

Wild Life Spoilers: Session 2 Alliance Report:

Teams:

The Spanners - (Mumbo, Grian, Skizz) - formerly the Sub One Club, immediately forget their idea of using crawl mode and lament that they can't be sub one anymore. Mumbo then decides they are “The Floaters” due to them becoming obsessed with the levitation ability. Luckily this doesn't stick because I could not handle an alliance that changes name every session. Mumbo and Skizz built their “base” as a series of bridges, leading to Mumbo calling them “The Spanners” since “they span things”.

Speaking of levitation, they died from that. And starvation. This was not Mumbo or Skizzes session, with Mumbo losing two life's and Skizz losing 3, halfing his amount of lives in one session. If Skizz loses one next week he will be yellow. Seems Grian's curse of outlining his alliance has started early.

The Bam-Boozelers - (Scar, Lizzie, Jimmy)

I normally have a lot of faith in all life series teams. I think anyone can make it to the end. I think this so long as it is not abundantly clear that they're doomed. I never say someone is Doomed from the star-

This team is doomed from the start. Immediately they decide that the Wild Card is that he can't heal from hunger, now this is a good first thought and is shared by other teams, though those other teams immediately realised that if that were the Wild Card everyone would die of hunger and started looking for other options.

These 3? They stuck with that idea and started making boats to travel. When they realised that their hunger reduced passively, they panicked until Grian saved them by telling everyone in chat that they could eat anything. Now, armed with this knowledge they just have to find a good and easy to use food source.

They chose stone shovels. An item that cannot be stacked and required way more effort and resources to make than was worth it. And they stuck by this even as others told them about better foods. They only stopped using shovels because of the randomisation.

How is Jimmy the most confident member on his team?

In other news, they're theme park is going well and Lizzie's Parrot is cute. Jimmy also apparently has “Big Mascot Energy”.

Renwood - (Martyn, Ren)

These dogs are just vibing. They each lose a life each, no big deal. A far cry from previous seasons, Ren is just chilling, Not going after anyone unless they go after them first and trying to get Martyn to do the same. And he actually does, not attacking anyone this session at all. He even gives up going after Jimmy for stealing their cows (an action which was by every account deserved.)

The Tuff Guys (Tango, Etho, Bdubs) (not technically together (?))

Ah yes, Team B.E.S.T without Skizz …. Considering Skizz was the only person keeping Team B.E.S.T from imploding, this can only go well!

Yeah this team is not staying together. Technically they're already breaking up, with Bdubs saying they should only look out for themselves and insisting they live in different houses. Bdubs even cements this mentality by fully encouraging Scar to help kill Tango for no reason.

As for the “Tuff” part, Etho has decided that they need to be tougher and take what they want from people. You know, not to be nice or polite.

Luckily we can see how this works in practice, as Gem encourages him to go be tough to the Final Girls, let's see how Etho is an not being nice:

● he greets Scott and Cleo

● makes small talk

● politely asks for copper

● tries to stop Pearl stealing from them since he doesn't know she's on they're team

● takes more of the stuff he was told he could have

● gives them obsidian in return anyway

● and still feels bad about it.

Yeah not only was this the least tough Etho had ever been, the Girls almost certainly didn't notice and probably won't even care when they do. Great job Etho.

The Fast And The Furious (Gem, Joel)

This session, Gem announced her plan to make friends so people don't judge them based on 5 seasons worth of going insane every time they go red. This lasts for 3 minutes before other people arrive, Scar misunderstands instructions, Etho lets the cops out and the Final Girls partake in their favourite pastime of miscommunication and insisting their own teammates are doing something they aren't.

Other attempts to make friends do go better, with Gem arguably being on good terms with everyone except two people. So that's good.

Gem also builds a cute little Bard that I give a session before it's burnt down or has a Creeper hole in it. Joel spends all session building a car. Everyone on the server thinks it's hideous, mainly because it is hideous.

The Final Girls - (Scott, Pearl, Cleo, Impulse, Bigb)

Somehow the most stable team here, even if it is mostly out of spite. Yeah this team will stay together, the core four have never betrayed anyone unless an outside faction is involved. They're safe. Even if they continue the tradition of forgetting all the bad stuff they did and only reimbursing bad stuff their teammates did (what do you mean Pearl doesn't trust people based on what happened in previous seasons? That was you, Cleo!)

Oh Bigb also joined this session. Though I imagine this will be a Heart Foundation situation where he bases alone despite being on the team.

Scott and Cleo spend a lot of time this session fixing the mistakes Pearl and Impulse make by acting how they always do. A house and wall are built and Pearl and Impulse prepare revenge plans on Grian and Martyn. Pearl encourages Impulse not to tell the others, seemingly forgetting that Cleo and Bigb are addicted to revenge and would have no problem with this.

Alliances and Friendships:

Lizzie and Gem

these two agree to team up if their teammates die. Since their teammates are idiots.

Remember, Lizzie is the one who made the stone shovel plan.

Spanners Vs Bammers

The Bam-Boozelers still hate the Spanners, dropping their reputation all the way to zero. Mumbo and Skizz either don't realise this or don't care. Grian was gone almost all session mining so can't really say what his thoughts on the situation are.

The Family - (Joel, Etho, Gem)

Etho is indoctrinated into yet another family, though he seems more willing to be present for this one. When Tuff Guys breaks up like 5 minutes into session 3, we all know where he's going.

Also Scar might also be part of the family though every else seems to just ignore this.

Spanners Vs Tango

The Spanners are really angry at Tango for accidentally killing Skizz. They seem satisfied with manifesting his death through belief, but it seems they haven't let him off the hook yet. We all know Bdubs won't help him

Joel might also be mad at Tango since he ate the wheels of his ugly car.

Mumbo & Jimmy still hate Renwood

Mumbo still doesn't trust Martyn after the enchanter fiasco and Jimmy attempts to get revenge for the cow theft. Ren and Martyn have chosen to ignore this, Mumbo seems to have forgotten he was angry, and Jimmy is satisfied that he got revenge.

Ren buys his friends

Ren bought Gem and Tangos friendship through iron. Will this hold up? No.

Gem has beef with team oblivious

Gem hates Pearl and Impulse this season. They are at the top of her inevitable murder list.

● The Final Girls came round for a visit

● Impulse was accused of stealing

● He said he wouldt stela since he knows what it's like to be stolen from

● Gem took this as him amusing her of stealing

● Scott cut him off before he could explain himself by saying he was purposely antagonising them

● Gem cut both of them off by ranting about how much she doesn't trust them

Stellar miscommunication guys, great job as always. Please never change, the series would be way less funny if you did.

Pearl also made it worse by trying to Poison Gem 30 minutes later. Woopsie.

Neither Pearl nor Impulse notice that Gem hates them and the others refuse to tell them.

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{Heyyyy you feral gremlins! I’m back, I got all my personal stuff handled but I’ll still be little slow on posting…this stuff but don’t worry I’ll still be posting anyway to this freak of nature I call a post!}~

•Pomegranates•

Why was it always when Tim was about to finish whatever he was doing at the time and actually sleep for once without being forced or passing out it when a new villain decided to start making trouble.

So here was Tim and the rest of the Bats fighting a new villain and Tim was to sleep deprived to care what the villain was saying and just focusing on not passing TF out and hoping luck was on his side for him not to get hit to bad so he can just go to sleep after this.

But apparently luck fucking hates Tim.

The villain grabs a pendant around their neck and pulls it off and throws it at Tim as the villain was about to lose and as the pendant falls on the ground in front of Tim but before any of the bats can do anything.

Tim is surrounded by a dark pink-red mist and Tim only has one thought before he is teleported to somewhere and passed out.

“I should have just fucking slept.”

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

As Tim wakes up, he expected something like a lab or something similar….but he was not expecting this.

He was surrounded by a forest with dark oak trees from what Tim can tell but right now Tim needs to focus on getting back to Gotham or finding where he is, so Tim starts walking north.

After about 30 minutes Tim started to notice a few things that makes Tim more sure that this was not a normal forest.

First was the trees and forests itself was very odd

A figure in a dark pink-red dress that was partly covered by a soft black cloak and black hair that is covering most of his face as he looks down and hums a song that Tim doesn’t recognize and he was sitting on a black old bench by a large lake with some pomegranate trees making shade over the figure and lake.

But before Tim can take him all in, he steps on a tree branch causing the figure to look over to where Tim is standing.

And that’s when Tim sees the figures blue-green eyes and pale face but that’s not what caught Tims attention it was the very visible baby bump.

And it seems the figure saw him too.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Summary•

Danny was taken by the GIW or well he was given to them after his parents found out he was phantom and with Jazz gone off to college and Sam and Tucker out of town due to family so they can’t help.

Dani and Vlad [They have a somewhat better relationship but Dani still loves Mama Danny better] somehow get this information and decide to leave because all them are the only halfas and it’s not safe.

So Vlad and Dani break into the GIW base where Danny is being held and cause some property damage and probably kill a few GIW agents in Vlads case before they find Danny and book it out of their back to the Fenton portal as it’s the only portal to The Ghost Zone that isn’t a natural portal [Vlad shut his TF down before going to get Danny so the Fentons and GIW can’t get to The Ghost Zone and Dani, Danny and Vlad aren’t coming back]

And as they book it to the portal, Dani and Vlad get shot badly and this causes Dani’s body starts to destabilize and Vlads in no condition to hold her core in his body so Danny takes it and before the Fentons and GIW can’t get their ass Danny managed to power the portal up and throw himself and Vlad through and Wail back to the portal to destroy it.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Little Things•

-They are in Vlad’s Lair, usually ghost have to be 100 before they get a Lair but halfas just have one no matter their age

-Vlad is a overprotective fuck of Danny ~{AND IF I SEE ANYONE SHIP THEM FROM ONE OF MY POST YOU AND GETING BLOCKED!!! THAT IS A CHILD AND HIS GODFATHER}~

-They have so many pomegranate trees because Dawn makes Danny crave them and Vlad can change his Lair anyway he likes so he just put them in so it’s easier for everybody involved [Vlad, it’s easier for Vlad]

-Vlad doesn’t let ANYBODY in his lair

-Vlad will still some times call Danny his son and call Dawn his daughter…yes it’s still weird and it causes horrible misunderstandings 

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Outfit•

Danny’s appearance

Nothing really changed with Vlad besides having scars and having to use a cane when in human form [which he is almost never in anymore] and Dawns a fetus so she doesn’t really have a form.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

~{Anyway hope you gremlins enjoyed it, byeeeee}~

[86espresso]

Hi can I request “I trust you more than anyone in the world” with Luke Hughes

thank you for requesting! 🩷

☯︎ “I trust you more than anyone in the world”

IT shouldn’t have hurt you as much as it did. If your guy best friend gets a a girlfriend it’s logical for you to step back because the girlfriend will and should get priority.

It’s basic rules. And it works the other way.

But, god, didn’t it hurt the way Luke entirely started ignoring ignoring you when Cailee walked into his life.

You’re glad he’s treating his girl well, almost as well as he treats you. He just hasn’t gotten a matching tattoo with her yet, or told her that he wouldn’t be anywhere without her.

The other laughable thing about this whole thing is that Cailee looks a lot like you. Uncannily. You connected the dots in your head pretty soon and watched as Luke’s friends laughed to him about it. It was like idiots in love except one of them was smart.

You were currently at a frat party on the terrace, nursing a drink of something that might kill you if you have another. Watching as Cailee pulls Luke into a corner to talk him down. She looked like she was lecturing him, throwing gestures, pointing her finger in his chest and then in your general direction.

You smile, you knew exactly what was happening. How cliche.

Only five minutes later, Luke’s footsteps slow down two feet away from you.

“Evening.” You lift your drink, looking at your best friend of as long as you can remember.

“Can we talk? Please? I need to tell-”

“I know.”

“You- what?”

“Me too.” You trace the rim of your cup, stealing a glance at his face. “Took you quite some time, hm?” You nod towards where Cailee was.

You spoke again after seeing the look of guilt on his face. “I trust you more than anyone in the world. I know you didn’t date her to hurt me.”

He visibly relaxed. But he had a load of other apologizing to do, so he opened his arms as a peace offering. You laugh and hug him, noticing the way way one of his hands traveled to your hair and one stayed in your waist. He hugged you tight.

When you kissed him, it was like you thought it would be. Familiar, as if it had happened before. But thrilling all the same.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Look Alike

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous (x3)

Warnings: eating disorder, mentions of depression, attempted murder, I didn’t copy the episode exactly so probably some mistakes

Synopsis: an angel is going around killing anyone who is suffering—but what happens when it goes after you?

A/N: this one is kinda heavy guys, so if this is a topic that will trigger you PLEASE do not read it. And please remember—I think you’re beautiful, and always remember to eat something, even if it’s just a snack, even if it’s not “good for you”; eating something just because you like how it tastes is better than not eating anything at all. Love you guys!

Your fingers fumbled as they retrieved your picture of Mary Winchester, tattered and faded at the edges. You looked from the picture to your own reflection, your heart plummeting.

Your mother had this…this look about her; she was slender and beautiful, but also strong. Strong enough to be a hunter.

You looked at your own reflection again before ducking your head, tucking Mary’s photo back into your wallet.

“Hey kid.” Dean’s voice in your doorway startled you, and you whipped your head around. “Lunch is ready, let’s go…what are you doing in here?”

“Oh, no-nothing,” you muttered, your hands fidgeting. “I’m not that hungry right now, maybe I’ll get something later.”

“Did you eat breakfast?” Dean asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Um—actually, maybe I will eat now.” you sidestepped his question and his body as you headed for the kitchen. Dean dropped the subject, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You were going to have to be more careful about your eating habits—or lack thereof.

Of course Dean had made burgers again. You looked to Sam, hoping he’d made something else, but he was happily chowing down on a huge hamburger—apparently he didn’t mind them if they didn’t come from greasy diners.

You forced yourself not to huff; it was impossible to pretend to eat a burger, so you’d really have to eat this time.

“Here.” Dean pushed a plate at you, and you took it without protest.

You managed to choke down about two bites before Dean got a phone call. He spoke for a few minutes before hanging up and addressing his younger siblings.

“Cas has a case. I’m gonna go check it out.”

“A case?” You put down your burger. “I’ll go pack.”

“I can take this one alone,” Dean assured you.

“Don’t be stupid, I’m coming.” You started for the door, hoping he wouldn’t argue.

“You’re not gonna finish your food?” Sam asked.

“I had enough,” you assured him, and ran off before he could argue.

…

“So…he exploded.” Dean was staring around at the pink living room, a grimace on his face.

“Yeah. So completely that there’s not a bit of him left that’s bigger than a grain of sand,” a nearby officer said. Once the officer stepped away, Dean spoke to you. “I’m gonna go talk to Cas, see what he can tell me. You should stay at the motel, read up on some things.”

“Ok.” You shrugged. “Call me if you find anything out.”

“Deal.”

…

“Ephraim.”

“Gazuntite.”

“No, Dean. Ephraim was—is—an angel, his job on the battlefield was to end the suffering of dying angels.”

“End the suffering…let me guess, by blowing them up?” Dean said.

“Unfortunately, yes. It seems that he’s continuing his mission on earth.”

“Yeah, but these people aren’t dying, they just had a bad day.”

“Apparently Ephraim can’t tell the difference between emotional suffering and…”

“And dying?” Dean scoffed. “Cas, this is crazy. Everybody has bad days, this guy is gonna end up wiping out the world.”

“It’s more than just bad days,” Castiel argued. “These people were in serious emotional turmoil. But you’re right—you need to find him.”

“You’re not gonna help?” Dean challenged.

“Dean, I’m just human. There’s nothing I can do.”

…

You stared at the takeout container that Dean had got you before dropping you off. You couldn’t refuse, you knew he would start to notice if you refused too many meals, but you still didn’t want it.

Your stomach growled, and you cringed. Maybe part of you wanted it.

You pushed the container away, opting instead to don workout clothes—the motel had a gym. You’d never be able to be a hunter like Mary, you’d never be able to keep up with your brothers, if you didn’t workout more.

After an hour on the treadmill, you decided it was time to get back to work. You didn’t want to leave Dean in the lurch when it came to research, even if he hadn’t told you any more information. He got this way when he took you on hunts—determined to do it all alone, not clueing you in on anything.

It’s because you don’t look like a hunter yet.

You swallowed hard. You may not look like a hunter yet, but you would soon enough. You just had to skip a few more meals, go a few more days, and then—just maybe—you could be a good hunter. You would look like Mary did, strong and in shape, and your brothers would trust you more.

You slipped back into your room, going straight for your bag to get your picture of Mary. You held it up for the millionth time, looking from it to the mirror. Your heart sank—you weren’t Mary; maybe you never would be.

Your stomach growled again, and you huffed.

“No,” you told yourself. Your eyes flickered over to the takeout container. You snatched it off the table and threw it into the trash. “No!”

You couldn’t give up now—who cared if you were hungry? Sam and Dean gave up a lifetime of sleep to keep hunting, you could skip some meals to do the same. You had to.

You hadn’t even noticed that you were crying until a few tears dropped onto Mary’s smiling face in your hands.

“Mom,” you whimpered. “Why can’t I just be like you?”

“I can help you.” The voice behind you startled you, and you dropped Mary’s photo, whirling around and reaching for the gun at your waist and.

“Who are you?” You demanded, raising the weapon.

“That won’t do anything to me,” the man insisted. “And you don’t need it. I’m here to help you. You’re suffering, and I’m here to end it.”

“End it?” You took a step back. “You’re the guy we’re after. You’re the one who killed that man, and that teenager.”

“I ended their suffering,” the man continued, stepping towards you. “And I can end yours.”

“It’s not like that!” The gun was shaking in your hands. You didn’t bother to shoot, knowing it wouldn’t help. “I’m not dying!”

“You are,” he argued. “I can heal your hunger, but I cannot make you eat. But the end I will give you will be painless.”

“What are you?” You demanded, taking another step back. Your back hit the sharp edge of a splintered desk, halting your movements.

“I am an angel. My mission is to end suffering. Let me end yours.”

“An angel, huh.” You put your gun down on the desk as if in defeat. While Ephraim kept his attention on your face, you moved your hand down to the splintered edge of the table and slid it across, drawing blood. Dropping your hand out of sight behind the desk, you began to draw an angel banishing sigil.

Ephraim moved before you could blink, grabbing your wrist and twisting it away from the desk.

“Don’t fight it,” he said. “I can help you.” His free hand was suddenly above you, lowering towards your forehead like death’s scythe.

“Hey!” The grip on you was released at the sound of Dean’s voice in the doorway. “Leave her alone!” Dean had his angel blade out and pointed at Ephraim. “You don’t get to just kill people because they’re hurting.”

“That’s exactly what I was made for,” Ephraim argued. “You didn’t even know she was suffering, but I do! And I can fix it!”

“That’s now how you fix it!” Dean thundered. He lunged forward, stabbing at Ephraim with the blade, but the angel side stepped him and flung him into the wall with a single flick of his wrist. The angel blade clattered to the ground, and you once again found yourself face-to-face with the murderous angel.

“Please,” you pleaded. “Look, I know you think you’re doing good. But humans—they hurt sometimes. But we can do better—I can do better—we’re all just doing the best we can.”

“If this is the best that you can do.” Ephraim shook his head. “Then this is what you need.” He stretched out his hand, and your breath caught in your throat.

You jumped back in surprise when Ephraim’s eyes glowed brightly, his jaw hanging open before he slumped to the ground. Dean stood behind him, a bloody angel blade gripped in his hand.

“That’s not what she needs,” he growled almost to himself. Then his eyes were on you. “Are you ok?”

You nodded shakily, taking a deep breath.

“Ok.” Dean dropped the angel blade. “Now what was that about? Why did he think—“

“I-I don’t know.” You couldn’t meet Dean’s eyes.

“Well what—“ Dean’s voice caught, and you looked up to see him staring at the corner of the room. You followed his gaze, and your stomach dropped. He was staring at the tiny garbage can in the corner, the open and full takeout container fully visible.

“Kid.” Dean swallowed. “When was the last time you ate? And no, that one bite of your burger didn’t count.” Dean’s eyes were on you now, and he petrified you to the spot with his gaze. “I mean when was the last time you really ate?”

“I—um…” your lip quivered and your hands began to fidget. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Ok, hey.” Dean pulled you into his arms when you started to cry. “I’ve got you kid.” He pulled away, brushing your tears. “Why are you doing this kid?”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, wiping at your face. “Dean—“ your voice caught and you choked on a sob.

“Ok, ok,” Dean soothed. “It’s ok, let’s…let’s go back home, ok? We can talk about it later. Go and wait in the car, I’ll bring the stuff.”

You went to the car without argument, and after you left Dean called Sam.

“Hey,” Dean huffed while he gathered the guns and clothes and tossed them in his bag. “Do you remember the last time you saw Y/N eat? Like, like a full meal.”

“Um…” Sam’s voice came out surprised and hesitant. “No.” Realization hit him. “No, I don’t. Dean, what’s going on?”

“I don’t think she’s eating. Ephraim…Ephraim tried to kill her.”

“I thought you said he only killed people who were…” Sam swallowed. “Who were really broken up, right?”

“Yeah.” Dean stopped packing long enough to clench and unclench his fist. “Yeah. She’s suffering, Sam, and we didn’t even know it. She stopped eating and we didn’t see.”

“Dean…” Dean heard Sam’s deep breath through the phone. “I’m…I’m gonna do some research while you get here. Try and talk to her on the ride home, ok? Maybe…we’ve gotta help her, Dean.”

“I know. We’ll be back in a couple hours.” Dean hung up, taking a deep breath. “Ok,” he said to himself, zipping up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a picture in the middle of the floor. He stooped to pick it up—it was Mary, when she wasn’t much older than you. Dean tucked it into his back pocket. “Ok.”

…

“Hey kid,” Dean greeted as he tossed his bag in the back. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, and you didn’t acknowledge him.

Dean let silence reign as he started up the Impala and headed down the road—he couldn’t force you to talk.

“I just wanted to look like her,” you said suddenly, your head resting against your knees.

Dean turned his head to look at you. “What?”

“Mom. I don’t look like her. She was such a good hunter, and I just wanted to be like that.”

“Kiddo—“ Dean’s voice caught. “Kid, you don’t have to look like her to be a good hunter.”

“But I can’t keep up with you.” You sniffled. “I thought if I looked like her…I could keep up with you.”

“When we were your age, we couldn’t have kept up with us,” Dean argued. “Besides, this isn’t…you don’t become a better hunter by starving yourself, kid.”

Dean watched out of the corner of his eye as your fingers clenched on your jeans, bunching up the fabric before you let it go. When you spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know how to stop.”

Dean forced himself to breathe through the pain, taking a moment before offering you a strong smile.

“That’s what we’re here for, kid. Me and Sammy are gonna help you.”

…

“Hey.” Sam’s hug when you stepped into the bunker was surprising and long. You heard Dean’s huff from behind you, but Sam ignored him.

“Hi.” Your greeting was muffled against Sam’s jacket, and he finally pulled away.

“Ok, so um, I’ve been doing some research, so I’ll show you what I got.” Sam reached behind him, picking up printouts from the internet. “I have a list of foods that are supposed to help, and um, I also made up a schedule—that’s supposed to make it easier—and if there’s any specific food you want me to pick up when I go out you can tell me. Or hey, you can just come with me and pick stuff out and—“

“Hey, dude,” Dean cut in with another huff. “I told you not to freak her out about this.”

“I’m not freaking her out!” Sam’s eyes went back to you. “Wait, am I freaking you out?”

“Um…” you picked at your hands. “It…it’s a lot…”

“We’ll start out small,” Dean insisted. “You want some toast?”

“Bread is good,” Sam piped up, holding up one of the research pages.

“Toast sounds good.” Your lips twitched up even as your eyes filled with tears.

“Hey, ok.” Dean’s arms were around you suddenly. “You got this, ok? We’re right here to help you.”

“Ok,” you sniffled.

Dean pulled away. “Ok. Now let’s get you something to eat, and then Sam can freak you out about everything he read.”

Sam opened his mouth, then closed it.

“I think I can do that,” you sniffled.

“I know you can.” Dean grinned. “Oh, hey—“ Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled out your picture of Mary. “This is yours.” You took it with a shaky hand, and when you looked back up Dean was bending down to stare into your eyes. “Hey. You’re just as pretty as mom. And she…she would want you to take care of yourself, ok? And so would dad. And so do we. Kapeesh?”

You threw your arms around Dean.

“Kapeesh,” you told him.

“Ok.” Dean pulled away, reaching up and brushing a stray tear off your face. “Now let’s go get that toast.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810

[prentissluvr]

you'd dance with me? — sam winchester

for : 200+ followers event [ closed ] ➖⟢ pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : fluff, light angst ➖⟢ cw : reader gets sort of stood up, alcohol, reader is tipsy, swearing, (not) unrequited love, barely edited ➖⟢ wc : 1.4K prompt : telling them they deserve better (and silently wanting to be the one who gives it to them)

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

the man from the bar, james, isn’t your exact type. no one is except for sam, because you’re irrevocably in love with him. but since you can’t have him, and you’re dying to have a fun night without every second being consumed by thoughts of him, how much you love him, and how much you’re sure he doesn’t love you back, you turn to flirting with the nearest handsome single man.

and that means james. james has been nice enough and asked you to call him jamie, because “that’s what his friends call him.” dean gave you an impressed look as you walked past with “jamie” on your arm, and you winked at him, feeling playful and hopeful for a fun night after a tiring hunt. dean grinned back and sam barely gave any indication he noticed you before you settled at the bar and launched into a decently boring conversation with james about his corporate job and the fake life that you spin up for him.

that was over half an hour ago and it’s been at least twenty minutes since james excused himself to the bathroom with the promise that he’d be right back. you know he’s not coming back, but you stay rooted to your seat anyway.

it takes a few more minutes before sam appears, taking the previous man’s spot by your side.

“he left, didn’t he?” you ask, forlorn and not even bothering to look at sam as he settles next to you. sam cringes and nods. you sigh, not having to turn your head to see the movement through the corner of your eye as he confirms your suspicions. sam wonders if he should tell you that the asshole left with someone else. you deserve to know, but he’s hyperaware that it’ll only add to the sting. 

he takes in the look on your face and the empty shot glass that you fiddle with, and he immediately knows that you’re much more upset by this than you normally would be. of course, the situation is completely shitty, for anyone, but on any other day, you’d probably brush it off by looking for someone better or heading back to sit with him and dean for some fun with them (if dean’s still around by then). today, you’re alone and at least an extra shot or two in since the guy left, likely making you more tipsy than you intended to get tonight. more than that, the frown on your lips is easy to see and read, far different from the smile you normally give him when you’re pretending not to care. tonight you don't attempt hide it.

“you okay?” he finally asks. you sigh again and surprise him a bit by dropping your head on his shoulder. this kind of touch between the two of you isn’t abnormal, but these days it feels like you’re avoiding it a little, which sort of kills him. it takes you a moment to answer, but when you do, sam’s heart clenches.

“i just wanted to dance with someone tonight.” your voice is sad and candid from the removal of your filter by the alcohol in your system. for a moment, sam is blindingly angry with the asshole that stood you up, and he has to hold back a vehement curse before recentering his focus on you and the sad pull between your eyebrows. he just clenches his jaw and lets you say what you need to before he lets any of the million things he wants to tell you fall from his lips. “he said he’d dance with me when he got back… then he didn’t come back. d’you think it’s stupid i wanted to dance? think that’s why he left?” 

now sam’s heart is plain-old breaking for you. he wants to ring the neck of the stupid man that made you question yourself like this, made your voice sound so dejected. then he wants to sweep you up in his arms and hold you close and kiss your forehead and tell you that it’s the sweetest, most endearing thing in the world that you want to dance. tell you that he’ll dance with you every night despite the fact that he can’t do much more than hold you and sway with you. tell you that he’s completely and enduringly in love with you. he discovered that recently, though he figures it’s been true for a long while now.

he has to settle for something a little more tame because you’re upset over another guy, because you're a little tipsy, and because he can’t lose your friendships if those words don’t come across well.

sam puts his arm around your shoulders and you sink further into him. “if that’s why he left, he’s an idiot. anyone in their right mind would trip over their own feet to dance with you. no one in their right mind would leave you– someone like you, sitting here alone,” he says your name so soft and loving that he thinks he’s given himself away until he remembers you’re not picking up on everything right now, “he didn’t deserve you. you deserve a whole lot better than that ass.” i’d be so good to you, he thinks.

“yeah,” you agree, still sounding a little despondent.

“if you– if you still wanna dance, you’ve got a willing partner,” sam forges ahead, anything to make you smile.

“mm, where? james probably left with someone else, for all i know.” he doesn’t like that man’s name on your lips, and maybe you’re a little more drunk than he thought, because you’re not getting the hint as quickly as you normally would. if you were sober and trying not to act upset, you’d say that all with a playful tone to your voice to tease him for offering. right now, you just sound sort of unbelieving.

“you know,” sam responds, keeping his voice just as serious as yours instead of matching that tease like he normally would.

this time you let a bit of humor slip into your voice, but it’s still sort of pessimistic, “what? are you gonna drag dean away from whatever girl he’s found just to cheer up my sorry ass?” sam has to laugh a little at that thought, because it’s a silly image and almost funny how you refuse to see him as an option.

“your ass isn’t sorry,” sam smiles all soft when that pulls a half-hearted snort from you. his voice is still gentle as he finally says, “i’m right here, you know.”

when you tilt your head up to look at his face, and finally, finally, he gets your eyes on his, he almost melts to the floor. you’re looking at him, sweet and soft with your eyebrows pinched together like you’re not sure if he meant it. then there’s that little hint of hope and joy swimming around in the pretty pools of your eyes and it sets his heart afire, just like that. you’ve done just about nothing special, but to him you’ve done everything.

“you’d wanna dance with me?” you say it like you can’t believe it, like that’s exactly what you’d really been hoping for all night and it takes everything in sam’s power not to swoop down and kiss you right then and there. he’d wanna do a whole lot more than dance with you, but it’s a wonderful, glorious, honey-sweet way to start, he thinks.

“of course,” he grins at you, and that’s all it takes to pull a big smile over your features too. that’s just about everything sam could ever ask for, and it brings a flood of relief over him. he just can’t help himself when he asks, “that is, if you’d want to dance with me? i’m sure i’m not your ideal dancing partner for the night, but hopefully i’ll do.”

“of course i want to dance with you, sam,” you say, so blatantly honest that it makes his heart hurt, “and that’s not true.” you won’t explain what you mean by that, so sam stands with you and gladly lets you use him for balance. it’s not true that he’s not your ideal dancing partner? is that what you meant? he certainly hopes so, because that must mean, by default, he is your ideal dancing partner, and you wanted to dance with him tonight, not this awful james.

maybe you love him back a little, he hopes, as your wrap your arms around his middle and let him sway you back and forth, all gentle and smiling.

[nxtaliaistyping]

scarecrow escaping from Arkham to go to his partner's house and show her how much he missed her (I leave you that idea)

Scarecrow coming back to his girlfriend’s place <3

Author’s note: love love love this request, doctor crane my beloved <3

18+ nsfw, fem reader, fear play mentions, creampie

As Jonathan heaves his way through the typical rain that covered Gotham city at this time of year, he realises he’s still smiling.

Gassing the imbeciles that make up the security team at Arkham asylum had been a gleeful experiment. He’d watched with the familiar glint in his eye how they’d grabbed at their own throats in terror, writhing on the floor as the horror filled their senses.

But he had to tear himself away, knowing this was his chance at escaping. So he’d slipped away from the asylum, keeping to the shadows so no eagle eyed night walker would notice the garish orange of the Arkham prisoner jumpsuits.

His first instinct was to go to a safehouse, get to work right away at enacting his revenge on the city for incarcerating him. But his feet seem to have a mind of their own, and as much as he hates to admit it, his heart does too. So he finds himself knocking harshly on your apartment front door.

On the other side, you're a startled wreck. It's 1am for gods sake, and someone is banging on your door. With a shaky voice you ask who it is, your breath catching as you do.

"...it's me..."

You'd recognize that voice anywhere, and with a furious conviction, you open the door and see your lover standing there. He stumbles in, running a hand through his slightly greasy hair before slamming the door behind him. His hands are on you immediately, pushing you against the wall as he breaths raspily.

"Missed you sweetheart...like you wouldn't believe."

His tone has your skin tingling with excitement as you reach out and gently touch his jawline, as if you confirm he's actually here. "How did you..."

"I'll tell you later." he remarks gruffly, before his lips attach to your neck and gently suck, like his first instinct was to remark you as his own. "Just missed you."

Before it can strike you just how vulnerable he's being, he captures your mouth in a searing kiss that effectively kills off any lingering thoughts you had. It's clumsy and messy, his need winning out over technique as his tongue traces your own.

He moves to place sloppy kisses down your neck, tugging the straps of your nightgown to access more skin. He grins as he feels the material in his fingers; he'd always told you how much he loved that nightgown on you, said it reminded him of a slasher victim in a bad horror film, one who'd provocatively search the house before being killed in a gruesome way.

The white lace makes you look so...vulnerable in his eyes, like a lost lamb willingly baring her neck to the wolf who wants to eat her. So he keeps tugging, until your breasts spill out over the fabric. He attaches his lips to them, sucking softly as you gasp and run fingers through his hair.

"Jonathan...bedroom." you say, knowing that in his state, he'd most likely end up fucking you right there in the hallway. He reluctantly detaches himself from your tit, tugging you hastily to your bedroom and pushing you down onto the mattress.

"You don't know what it was like in that damn place." he remarks, finally getting sick of your nightdress all together and roughly tugging until it hangs loosely around your ankles. "How infuriating it was. I had Nygma in the cell next to me ranting that nobody was matching wits with him, and Tetch in the other going on about wonderland or whatever bullshit."

He moves to your wet pussy, hole twitching slightly as he runs his long digits through your folds. Catching the wetness, he circles your clit in precise circles as he continues. "Couldn't even relieve myself without someone ruining the fantasy."

"What were you thinking about?" you ask, and the grin he gives you should frighten you...if you were anyone else.

"Oh dear...I was thinking of you dripping over my lap, high on my fear toxin as i delivered spank after spank over that pretty ass of yours."

You whimper at his words, just as he sinks two fingers inside your cunt. He crooks them, feeling your g spot and sighing at the familiar texture. "And about how delicious you'd look as I fucked you, so scared and brainless, clinging onto me for dear life."

He fingers you quickly, eager to prep you so he can be inside of you once again. He never used to be like this, so desperate for wanton physical contact. But you've changed him, wormed your way into his life and heart until he craves you, craves the reactions and noises you give him as you lie helplessly beneath him.

"A pity I used up all my toxin on the guards." he lies, in truth he has some left over in his overall pocket, but he keeps up the charade. "Oh what a lovely victim you always make."

He pulls his fingers out roughly, giving your swollen clit a nice spank for good measure before hastily stripping. You sit up to watch him, missing him just as much as he'd missed you. The dangerous man before you had been the subject of all of your salacious and desperate fantasies as you'd touched yourself the whole time he was in Arkham. Nobody was like him, nobody could give you the thrill that Jonathan could. And as he rubs his swollen cock along your folds, feeling the way you write, you know that you don't want anyone else.

He enters you, giving you the courtesy of going slowly as he deduces it'll have been a while since you've had something substantial filling you up like this. As he bottoms out with a guttural groan, your fingernails dig in to his shoulders, the pain delicious to Jonathan as he bucks his hips, driving his cock impossibly deep.

"Fuck...you minx." he mutters, starting to fuck you. Each thrust he ensures that he's reaching as far in as he can, wanting to feel every bit of you.

You moan softly with each thrust, telling him how much you missed him too, how lonely it's been without him. And each sentence has his heart-rate spiking in a way that feels dangerous. He never meant to form attachments, thinking it as weak, or a distraction from his work. But it's clear now more than ever that he can't let you go.

So he drives into you faster, burying his face in your neck and biting, leaving harsh hickeys all over your throat. "Mine...mine."

"All yours Jonathan."

He groans again at your words, feeling his dick throb with desire. He knows he won't last long, being apart from you for so long (and his age) meaning his stamina has taken a direct hit. But he savors the moment regardless, feeling you on your back beneath him, like you were meant to be.

"Not gonna last..." he warns, and you nod in understanding, locking your legs around him to ensure he cums inside.

With a couple more thrusts, he empties himself inside your cunt as it milks him for all he has. His moan is broken and desperate, but the relief is palpable in his tone as he relaxes. The tension in his shoulders seems to lift, as his breath heaves.

"I...really did miss you." he reiterates, somewhat annoyed at himself for feeling the need to tell you once again, but the soft look on your face makes it worth it...at least a little.

[venusdandy]

God's Rival [Part 1]

[Hazbin Hotel x GN!reader] [Platonic]

Story Summary: The Demiurge is what they decided to call you. You aren't human, angel, or demon. You're something else entirely—an enigma in each realm. The only being who had ever shown you kindness was the fallen angel Lucifer since he freed you from Heaven's prison by offering Eve the apple from your tree. You promised him a fruitful favor in exchange, but he has not asked anything from you. Until now, that is.

Chapter Summary: After the death of Adam, the residents of the Hazbin Hotel discuss ideas of how to protect Hell from Heaven's potential wrath. Reluctantly, Lucifer mentions he knows someone who owes him a favor and quite literally may be the only deity able to help them.

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader (they/them pronouns). No use of (y/n). The reader is genderless and AroAce—platonic relationships with the characters only.

The reader gets referred to as the "mother of chaos" once (in the same way one refers to mother nature). Nifty calls the reader a "bad boy" once (before meeting them). The reader is only referenced in this chapter without appearing yet.

Part 1 [Here] Part 2

The residents of the Hotel are gathered in their new lounge discussing the most recent extermination, or more specifically, Adam's death and the consequences. Heaven hasn't made any contact with Hell yet, but then again, it's only been a few days.

"I still think my idea is better," Angel smirks as he leans back on the couch comfortingly.

Vaggie growls with frustration, but Charlie quickly intervenes by gently touching her lover's shoulders. "Angel, we appreciate your help, but um," Charlie smiles tensely, "I don't think you seducing the angels in Heaven will help."

Angel shrugs. "Best idea anyone's had in the last hour."

Well, he isn't wrong. They've been severely lacking in the brainstorming department. After the conclusion that killing the first man has undoubtedly set off alarms in Heaven, for the past three and a half hours, they've all been discussing potential ideas to protect Hell from Heaven.

So far, Husk has thrown out that they should just set Nifty loose in Heaven (which Vaggie actually considered), Alastor has been making angelic puns (not at all helping), and Charlie has been pitching many civil plans to persuade Heaven (all her plans are in song form).

Lucifer has been very quiet throughout this. He's only been partially listening to everyone, as he is too focused on his worries. He's been mentally debating bringing up his idea; it's potentially the only way they'd stand a chance against all of Heaven's wrath.

But so much could go wrong. . .

Charlie must have noticed the faraway look in her father's eyes. She gently calls out to Lucifer, making him jolt out of his thoughts. He straightened up in the armchair and forced a smile. "Yes, Char-Char?"

Charlie holds one of her dad's hands with concern. "Are you okay? We can take a break if it's too much."

Lucifer sighs, letting his body sink into the chair, and his smile drops. "No, no, it's okay. I just. . .I have an idea."

Charlie perks up at this, a big smile shining on her face. "That's great!"

Lucifer opens his mouth but closes it again. He really doesn't want to mention you, but they've been shoved in a corner, and it's starting to look like only you can break down the walls.

With a reluctant sigh, Lucifer asks the others, "Have you heard of the Demiurge?"

Alastor hums with amusement as his grin stretches. "If you don't have ideas, there's no need to make up words. Just admit that little head of yours is empty!"

Lucifer, unknowingly falling for Alastor's rage bait, glares at him. "I'm not making up words, you oversized dried cherry! That's their title!". Lucifer then specifies your actual name.

Charlie clears her throat, awkwardly trying to distract the two demons. "Okay, let's calm down and hear what Dad's idea is."

Lucifer crosses his arms, still glaring at Alastor as he explains. "The Demiurge is responsible for a lot but mostly known for creating the mortal realm and overall shaping the material world. They're the maintainer of chaos."

Husk scoffs and mumbles under his breath, "Did a shit job maintaining the chaos in my life."

Charlie anxiously shifts her weight from leg to leg. 'Maintainer of chaos' doesn't sound very appealing. "Soooo, are they. . .nice?"

Lucifer finally looks away from Alastor; his smile is pissing him off more anyway, and he shifts his body to face his daughter. "Nice?" Lucifer repeats, "Maybe? From what I remember, they treated their creations with kindness."

"Creations?" Vaggie asks with a raised brow, "What does that mean? Like weapons or. . .?"

"Life.", Lucifer clarifies, "The Demiurge is capable of creating intelligent life forms."

This hooks everyone's attention. Even Nifty stops herself from stabbing a bug and looks up curiously. The little unfortunate bug quickly scurries across the floorboards, trying to escape, only for Nifty to leap at it again with her knife closing in on it.

"Like God? The fuck?" Angel asks with astonishment.

Lucifer nods. "They're powerful, so I thought about summoning them to help us since they owe me a favor anyway."

"Favor?", Charlie asks curiously and slightly worried.

Lucifer was about to explain further but decided to tell the Demiurge's origins so everyone could better understand who you are.

With a wave of his hand, a large and old book of the universe's secrets lands in Lucifer's lap. He opens it to the exact page of your tale and takes a deep breath before reading out loud.

.

"Before time, there was only the Celestial power in a realm called Heaven. But that power balance began to tip when an unknown angel mothered a deity with unbelievable divine powers that she abandoned their child in a clouded realm. The young deity lived for millennium alone, thinking they were the only being in existence. With no guidance from their mother, their power was disorganized, and they created galaxies, planets, and even complex life forms in their clouded realm.

After discovering the mysterious deity and their divine powers, Heaven deemed them a possible threat to the universe's balance. Questions rang in Heaven, wondering where this God-like creature came from. Only one angel knew who the deity was and where they came from, but she stayed quiet in fear she would be punished. It was her very own sinful thoughts and overwhelming emotions that had birthed her child.

The deity was elated to witness life forms they did not create, as they were not as alone as they formerly thought. At first, knowledge was transferred in civil conversations to understand each other's existence. The deity showed their realm, and in turn, the angels showed theirs. Heaven was more lenient towards them after witnessing their calm and happy nature. The deity behaved much like an angel, Heaven thought, so they let them remain in their realm of creation.

It was during that time the deity discovered they had a mother and how she abandoned them over her selfish desire to protect herself. The deity then lashed out with exasperated grief. The one who gave them life was ashamed of them. Their creations began behaving more aggressively and rigidly as the deity's emotions swam in negativity. Once again, Heaven became alarmed by the deity's power. They threatened the deity to stop, or Heaven would have no choice but to force them to stop by the power of the Heavenly Father. But the deity was too far lost in their rage of despair to listen. So, Heaven destroyed the deity's creations to almost extinction and trapped their soul within an apple tree. This massive tree became known as The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.

After 65 million years, the Heavenly Father created the first humans within the Garden of Eden. As long as the humans didn't eat the forbidden apples of The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, they would live a pleasant life under God's guidance.

But, the life balance for humans forever shifted when Eve accepted the apple from the serpent and took a bite.

The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil vibrated until it burst into golden flames. The deity stood freely with their power surging through their veins once again. There was no longer only peace; now, there was chaos in the world.

That was the rebirth of The Demiurge."

.

After Lucifer finishes reading the timeless tale, he gently closes his book and teleports it to where it belongs with cloudy red magic. It's been a few millennia since he's sat down and read the origins of the Demiurge like this.

Nifty squeals from her spot on the floor laying on her stomach, kicking her feet in the air. "A bad boy!" She giggles.

Lucifer quickly clutches his fists in his lap as he realizes he's shaking with anxiety. Honestly, Lucifer does NOT want to call upon you. So many things could go wrong, and the first thing that comes to mind is how awkward it'll be. He can't just be like, 'Oh hey, haven't seen you since Eden! Could you fight Heaven and protect Hell for us? Thanks!' ABSOLUTELY NOT!

The second reason is that Lucifer has only a vague idea of what you're capable of. He knows you're powerful; he was one of the angels investigating you and your realm of life.

You treat your creations with love and gentleness, as Lucifer's father does with his creations. But you're the Demiurge, maintainer of chaos. Your mere existence allowed chaos and evil to spread in human souls. What motivates you? What are your aspirations?

. . .And would you be a threat to Charlie?

Vaggie's eyes are narrowed, glaring at where the book just was. Having the radio demon managing the hotel is enough of a risk as is; she will not allow some powerful entity- the maintainer of chaos, that is, anywhere near Charlie.

Husk is the first to break the tense silence with a slight smirk on his lips. "That's some serious mommy issues."

Angel snorts. "Careful, whiskers, the Boogieman might just catch ya for saying shit like that."-he suddenly scoots closer to Husk on the couch, invading his personal space. "But don't ya worry, I'll hold ya real close for safety!"

Without even looking at Angel, Husk shoves him off the couch. "OOF!"

"Boogieman?" Alastor asks with some amusement.

Angel sits up on the floor and shrugs in response. "They sound creepy, like the Boogieman." Angel grins wide with a laugh, "Hey, maybe you and them will get along then, Smiles!"

Alastor only raises a brow at Angel's comment. If anything, the Demiurge will most likely piss him off like Lucifer does. But either way, he's deathly curious about you. What exactly can you do? Or rather, what can he exploit from you?

Lucifer groans and throws his head back against the armchair. "I don't know if we should ask the Demiurge for help. . ."

Charlie quickly shakes her head. "What, why? You said they can help, and they owe you a favor anyway! We have to ask, at least!"

Vaggie rests a hand on her lover's shoulder. "I'm not sure about this either, Charlie. This isn't your average favor exchange."

Charlie is about to argue more but closes her mouth. She bobs her side to side in acknowledgment. "Yeah. . .but Dad freed them from the tree, and helping us protect Hell from Heaven is sorta like freeing us, right?"

Now, Vaggie nods but sighs in exasperation. "Babe, we can't trust the maintainer of chaos who, might I remind you, brought evil into the world."

Lucifer, without a second thought, jumps to your defense, "Now, I wouldn't say they brought evil into the world. Evil already existed; human souls at the time couldn't comprehend evil. That's how they were originally designed. The Demiurge brought the ability for humans to understand evil, and I gave humans free will." He rubs his neck awkwardly and mumbles, "And I mean, it was their world before Heaven took control of it."

Husk scratches his chin in thought. "Sounds like they'd be eager to fight Heaven if that's the case."

Charlie claps her hands together in determination. "Exactly! I'm not for the idea of revenge, but they already aren't on good terms with Heaven. And it sounds like we- as, in Hell, are on neutral terms with them?"

Lucifer nods, but he's still not convinced he should summon you. . . Indeed, you've never shown malice towards Hell, but you've also never shown any signs of supporting Hell.

Well, you've shown respect for his family, which he is confident of. Lucifer can recall how each year, on his and Lilith's anniversary, they'd receive a generous gift from the Demiurge. They especially received a lot of gifts from you for the baby shower Lilith held for the nearing birth of Charlie.

Now that Lucifer is thinking about the Demiurge more, how'd you even know these dates? Neither he nor Lilith invited you to their wedding or baby shower, yet you still sent them gifts. Lucifer always assumed word had got around, and that's how you heard of it, but you were always so precise with the timing, too.

For instance, when their marriage started going South, instead of receiving one gift from the Demiurge on their anniversary for them to share, Lucifer and Lilith received their own uniquely catered gift. He was so emotionally distraught back then that he never realized how odd and borderline creepy that was. How could you have possibly known that Lilith and him weren't doing well? Not to mention how after they split apart, they received no gifts from you! How do you know all of this?! Are you hiding in his castle walls or something?!

Alastor knocks his cane against the wooden floorboards to gather everyone's attention. "I must agree with our dear Princess! We need extra assistance for what's to come, and it sounds like the Demiurge is the one for it."

Lucifer glares at Alastor. Well, now that he knows Alastor wants you to be summoned, Lucifer wants to summon you even less now!

"Plus!" Alastor continues with a stretching smile, "Our little King and the Demiurge are bound by a contract! They must fulfill their end of the bargain whether they want to or not."

"Preferably wanting to!" Charlie quickly adds, "Actually, only wanting to! We aren't forcing anyone to do anything they aren't comfortable doing!" Alastor subtly rolls his eyes.

Lucifer takes a breath in through his teeth at that realization. "Uhhhh, we didn't shake on it soooo. . ."

Vaggie immediately facepalms. "Are you serious right now?!"

Alastor's neck snaps at an angle toward Lucifer. "You didn't. . .Make an official deal? Then what makes you think this creature of chaos would willingly do you a favor?"

Lucifer stands from his chair with a glare and points an accusing finger at Alastor, "Excuse me for having more important things on my mind like, I don't know, getting out of Eden alive!"

Alastor's brows furrow together with irritation, and his smile sits tightly. Leaning onto his cane for stability, he bends forward to reach Lucifer's much shorter height. "You're excused."

Lucifer starts rolling up his sleeves. "Alright, you pompous prick-"

"Okay! That's enough!" Charlie quickly intervenes by leaping between the two demons with a nervous smile. "How about we finish this discussion tomorrow after thinking more about it? Sound fair?"

Reluctantly, Lucifer backs off, blowing air out his nostrils with pent-up anger. Alastor shows no further vexation as he straightens up, firmly placing his hands on his cane.

From the floor, Angel raised one of his hands. "So, question about the Demiurge."

Lucifer sighs with exhaustion but brings his full attention to Angel anyway. "Ask away; I'll answer the best I can."

Angel smirks as he asks, "What do they look like? Are they sexy?"

Husk and Vaggie groan at the question, not even surprised. At that, Husk stands from the couch and goes to the bar. He needs a drink—or maybe 12.

Lucifer, on the other hand, was genuinely pondering the question, the first half at least. "Uhh, from what I remember, the more humanoid form they take on have ears and a tail like a lion and golden scales on the edges of their face, around their eyes, and just scattered around their body, I think."

The term 'humanoid form' catches Alastor's attention. According to Lucifer, it sounds like the Demiurge is a creature that naturally doesn't look like a human and instead takes on that form, most likely for simplicity purposes. From the spiritual knowledge Alastor has gathered throughout his time in Hell, he's come to find that beings of higher ranks typically have a more abstract form. In that form, they are the most powerful, so to harness and control their magic, they take on a humanoid form.

"How interesting," Alastor hums, "A feline and a reptile."

Finally standing up, Angel whistles with a grin. "I've been with both, and I gotta tell ya, those scaley motherfu-"

Angel gets cut off by Vaggie punching him in the gut with the dull end of her spear. "Shut the fuck up, Angel!". Angel only laughs as he clutches his stomach.

Charlie winces and immediately but gently grabs her lover's elbows, making Vaggie lower her spear. "Okay, I think it's time to get ready for bed now."

The residents of the Hotel each do their nightly routine before ending the eventful day in their respective rooms. Though, with the most recent events taking place, they all find difficulty relaxing.

Can the Demiurge truly help them. . .?

They can only hope so.

[iouinotes]

Show-off | Mike Ross

pairing: Mike Ross x female!reader

show: Suits

genre: smut word count: 2,9k

summary: you and your co-worker Mike dont get along very well. But when you have something that he needs, suddenly everything is different.

a/n: Just watched the first two episodes of "Suits" and something about Mike is really attractive-

Working in a well-known office as a lawyer has it's advantages. Such as being respected by business people or being able to afford a lot of things, you spend all your evenings analyzing documents rather than meeting actual people.

Nevertheless, sometimes there are also negative factors. For example, my co-worker Mike, who really believes, that he is with his ridiculously skinny tie and sarcastic humor better than the others. Or right now, better than me.

"God, I cant believe you. Can you behave for once?" I use my fingers to push my hair back in frustration, noticing how my head starts to hurt. Its 10 pm and I'm currently trying to stay calm, though because of one man in particular, my nerves seem to be getting thinner within seconds. Valuable time is wasted that I could spend somewhere else instead of with him.

"Now it's my fault, that you don't have the documents with you? Sorry, I can't help you being organized in your own workplace." His voice irritates me. Everything about him is so frustrating.

"I told you, I didnt get the message! How am I supposed to know, that you need something, when you don't tell me anything about it? Maybe you should stop being so childish and ask me in the first place, instead of running to Rachel!" If our job had nothing to do with justice and we werent literally standing in a law company right now, I would kill him. And then I wouldn't hesitate to go to court and say it was self-defense, because I didnt want to hear any of his miserable excuses anymore.

"So what do you think, I should do? I need these documents for tomorrow. Please, I know you don't like me, but it is really urgent." Why does he has such blue eyes? The look he is going me is even more irritating than his voice.

I sign, exhibit my laptop and try to put the pens back, that are laying all over my desk.

"Okay, fine. As I said, the documents are at home, so-" I don´t even get to finish my sentence.

"Great, so I'll meet you there. And I wont even tell anyone, if your place is a mess." His eyes wander over my messy desk, and even If I don´t like to admit it, it's a bad habit of mine. But, he shouldn't make any assumptions about the neatness in my apartment.

"I hope you loose the documents on your way home." At my words, he grins smugly.

"Well, then I could lie and say you didnt found them anymore and I hadnt had the chance to go through them." He leans towards me.

"I'll run you over with my car." He raises his eyebrows at my threat.

"You sure should do something that makes you smile more often. Is that even something you know how to do?" I show him my middle finger and turn to left my office. When I close the door, I hear the laughter in his voice.

"The next storm should be named after you as quickly as you left the room." He follows after me.

"Can you shut up for once? Oh, I forgot. You don´t last one second being silent. Thats a shame, the world could finally heal." His hand rests on his heart, his features fake a hurt expression.

"Ouch. You really don´t like me that much, huh?" His eyes try to search mine.

"You get on my nerves on purpose every fucking day. Should I thank you for that?" I turn my head to look at him.

"Yes, you should. Your life would be so boring without me." He grins at me again from the side, that typical grimace that is always adorn on his face.

"You wish." When I tell him my address, he raises his eyebrows, but before he can make an unfavorable comment, I get into my car.

Darkness surrounds me and when I see him going away, I lower my head to the steering wheel. He really is the best at confusing my emotions.

~~~~~

I turn off the lights of my car and get out of it, so I can finally make my way to my flat. Its not something special, I mean I have a living room, which is quite big and connected to the kitchen, a bedroom and a bath. But I am very lucky, because I have a small balcony, from which I can watch the stars at night. But I usually only do that when I can't sleep.

So, when I enter my apartment, I let my eyes wander over the manageable mess, I put some clothes back in the closet and the dishes in the washing machine. The place almost looks decent, when I hear the doorbell.

As I open the door, I'm nervous for some reason. I let him in and turn to my office drawers, looking for the document.

"Nice place. You live here alone?" His fingers trace my bookshelf, I see him reading the titles.

"No, my wife is still at work." When I look at him dead serious, I see him laugh in surprise.

"So, you do have humor. I thought, you were one of those exceptions that wouldn't be able to do that." He means it as a joke, but something in my chest hurts.

When I reply with a monotonous voice, I see his eyebrows pull together. "I live here alone. That's what you wanted to hear?" I'm getting more frustrated again with every second he's around me.

"No- I didnt mean it that way. I'm sorry. My intentions were good, I promise." When I look at him for a moment, I see his honest expression.

It would be so easier for me to hate him, if I didnt know, he was a good human. Well, most of the time.

We are silent for a moment, but when I hear his footsteps, I tense up.

"What are you doing?" He's now standing right next to me.

"Helping you. You seem a little, tense?" I glare at him for a moment and he raises his hands in defense.

"Just pointed out the obvious. But dont worry. You still look lovely." I stop in my movements at his words.

"Thats such shock for you?" His voice shows surprise and a certain curiosity.

"Only that you say it." I look into his eyes.

"Well, you may think I'm dumb, but I'm not blind."

He just called me beautiful, sort of. It´s confusing me.

When I finally find the documents, I hold my hand out to him.

"I don´t think you are dumb. I think you're annoying. And a show-off. I don´t like that." His eyes follow me.

"What do you like then?" His question surprises me. He slowly takes the documents out of my hand, his finger gently brushing mine.

"I don´t think that is any of your business." I try to clear my voice. His touch makes me shiver.

"Come on, tell me. Would that be so bad?" His whole presence is making me nervous and I feel my hands start to shake.

At work, I can always hide behind a mask, pretend that nothing he does affects me. I can act like I truly hate him, even though I catch myself looking at him, from time to time. Especially when he shows off his intelligence without realizing it, impresses his clients and -I would never admit it- me too. It's a certain charm about him, the way he always knows how to answer, while being mischievous and clever about it.

But now, that he's in my apartment and so close to me, it's suddenly different. And I don't know how to react to him being nice.

"I look for someone who isnt afraid of commitment. Someone who is honest and kind, but who also challenges me. I want to feel safe, so I can put my trust not only in myself."

He nods and is quiet for a moment, I begin to feel stupid for telling him all of that, when he responds.

"I get that. Someone whose shoulder you can lean on when things get too much. Someone who meets your needs, who wants to be in your life. For longer than a one-night stand." He smiles at me and I see for the first time, why I possibly could like him.

"Also, statistics show higher rates of being robbed or kidnapped, when you have one-night stands." This remark almost makes me laugh, even though it's frightening.

"Well, who would even notice, if I would disappear? Probably only my clients, because they need me." I lower my head, being completely honest with him for the first time.

"I would notice."

When I look at him, he takes a step towards me. His fingers gently slide over my shoulder and brush my hair aside, the touch makes a warm feeling bloom in my chest.

"I couldn't annoy you anymore. My life would be pretty boring without you. And it's not so bad to be able to look at such a pretty face every day, even if it always looks at me annoyed, like all the time." I quietly laugh at that, feeling surprisingly good because of his compliment.

We look at each other, now being really close. My eyes travel to his lips and I don´t even know how it happens, but suddenly he is all over me. His lips on mine, his hands on my waist, lifting me up to sit me on the desk. I moan softly when his hands tangle in my hair and he pushes himself closer to me, so that he's standing between my legs. One of his hands gently wraps around my neck and I feel my loud pulse.

My hands move too, stroking his back and holding him closer to me by his tie. As he pulls his lips away from me, he lifts my chin with his finger. Now, looking down at me with widen pupils. I hold his eye contact, forgetting all about my issues with him, when he speaks to me with a deep voice (which I suddenly don´t think sounds irritating anymore).

"Be angry at me tomorrow and mine for tonight. I bet, all your frustration from work and your thin nerves can catch a break, what do you say?"

Not much. Because I pull him towards me by his tie and kiss him again. I don't want to stop at all anymore. He returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm and his hands find their way to my waist again to lift me up again. When he crosses the living room with quick steps and lays me down on the sofa, I already feel out of breath and clearly turned on.

His kisses become more intense, his lips move from my mouth to my neck, leaving marks there. But it feels too good to make him stop.

"I will gladly hear your excuses, when someone asks you about your hickeys tomorrow. Because you will be all flustered, when you think again about this moment. Where you are ready to be fucked by your colleague, who you despise so much." I whimper as he pushes up my dress and his hands pull my tights down to my knees. The cold air hits my skin, but I don't really notice it, because his lips are on my neck again and his fingers connect first with my stomach and then further down. I hold my breath as his lips touch my ear and his fingers stroke my folds.

"So wet for me. Didnt think, I would turn you on this much." I kiss him to shut him up.

"You are-" I moan, when he finally puts a finger in me. "-so annoying." He laughs at me.

"Am I? But you seem to like it." I feel myself getting wetter, his fingers feel so good as they move gently but firmly inside me. One of his hands moves to push my dress further up and somehow, he manages to pull it over my head. Now, I'm lying in front of him in just a bra, his hands slowly find their way over my body and to my back, which I lift slightly so that he can open the clasp.

When I lie naked in front of him and he massages my breasts, his lips touch mine and his fingers stimulate me, I feel like I'm in heaven.

He breaks apart, so he can look at me and I draw my eyebrows together, when his fingers increase in speed. My mouth opens and the sounds that escape me echo in the apartment.

"I'm- god, I think I am going to come-" at that he starts to tease me, going slower but a lot deeper. My eyes almost roll back as he hits a certain spot inside me.

"That feels good? What do you say, when you want something?" You stupid idiot.

"You stupid-" I begin to say as his lips graze my nipple and his finger scissor and stretch me out further.

"One word, darling. Say it." And because I feel this knot inside me (and maybe this side of him turns me on, like a lot), I finally open my mouth to please him.

"Please, Mike. I-I need to-" My sentence is cut off as his fingers speed up and I moan loudly.

"Thats a good girl, you can be so good to me, if I make you." His lips search mine as I finally come. My breathing is heavy and when I come down from my high and look at his face, I see the satisfied expression.

"You are done-" I can't maintain my strict facial expression and suddenly have to start smiling. His eyes widen in surprise and I raise my eyebrows, still smiling softly.

"What?" I quietly laugh at his expression.

"Nothing, its just- I have never seen you smiling so happy." I roll my eyes gently. As I look at him closer now, I see the bulge in his pants and the loosened tie. As I lean forward, his eyes shift to my body.

"You still are fully clothed. A bit unfair, don't you think?" I watch him swallow and my hands move to his chest to slowly unbutton his shirt. As I also remove the tie and slip the shirt from his shoulders, I sit myself on his lap. Rocking my hips forward and seeing his eyes close. His hands move to my hips and begin to control the movements, my eyes close too and my head leans into the crook of his neck as the movements become faster.

Sighs and heavy breaths leave his lips and once again, one of his hands moves to grab my breasts, lightly grazing the nipples.

I look at him, noticing his swollen lips and his flushed cheeks. His hair is a mess and his forehead is furrowed, but he tries his best to pull himself together.

I groan as I look at him and suddenly think back to todays afternoon, when he was on a phone call and I heard how he listed one reciting fact after another, without any difficulty.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"N-nothing" I'm definitely too embarrassed to admit how much his intelligence and the way he seems to know everything, turns me on.

One of his hands moves to my entrance and teases me by just circling around it. When I try to push myself down, he pulls his fingers away.

"You tell me, whats going on in that pretty head of yours and you'll get me." My body feels so hot, I can't think properly anymore.

"You where on a phone call today and you just- you listed without any effort every single point that will help you win the case. You just said it like- it's nothing."

When his fingers dig into me again, I bite my lips. I try to control my moans and not pay attention to the fact, that I just gave him every opportunity to make him be more complacent than his usual self.

His fingers pump into me and I feel slightly overstimulated. But I wouldnt want to stop now.

"You get off by the thought of me, saying memorized facts? Who would have thought that my intelligence would turn you on so much." God, his ego probably doesn't fit in this apartment anymore.

"Don't think too highly of yourself, you still annoy me." Now I'm really just trying to get myself out of the situation. I lean towards him, so he can't say anything anymore and pull on his blonde hair to distract him.

Moans escape my lips and when I notice that his noises are also getting louder, I pull away from him. He looks at me confused.

"I want you inside me." Thats all I say, but he quickly complies with my request. I slide off his lap and wait for him to take off his pants and boxers until he's finally on top of me again. His fingers find my bottom lip and while maintaining eye contact, I open my mouth so he can insert a finger. My tongue brushes against his and after a few moments of him pressing on my tongue, he lets his fingers move back to the spot that needs him the most.

He stretches me for a few minutes until he finally guides his cock to my hole and slowly penetrates me. My eyes close and I hear his breath in my ear as he pushes further.

"You are so tight- good thing finally someone fucks you." I nod without thinking and hear his laughter in my ear.

"You think so too, huh. Would you let anyone fuck you then?" My stomach tenses, I feel the pleasure growing again and every movement of him. This feels so good-

I try to shake my head, but I'm too lost in the sensations to pay much attention to his words.

"No? But I thought, you hate me. Why would you let me fuck you, if you don´t even like me?" His thrusts become faster and more uncontrolled, I feel him getting closer to his own high.

"I-" I try to stutter "d-don´t hate you." I feel myself getting closer and reach into his hair, pulling at the roots and feeling his lips on my shoulder. His thrusts become more powerful and as he moves his hand and massages my clitoris, suddenly everything goes white in front of my eyes and I come.

I feel every inch inside of me, feel his fingers brush over the visible bulge in my stomach and think to myself: god I feel so full

When he comes too, I moan so loudly that it's impossible that my neighbors didn't hear me. His hand finds its way around my chin, he slides a finger into my mouth and I feel my vagina tighten because of it.

He hisses and his thrusts slow down until he finally pulls out of me, trying not to fall on top of me. As I give him some space next to me, he falls halfway on me, but pulls me on top of him in the next second and I can hear his strong heartbeat. With his outstretched hand he pulls the blanket over me, that had fallen to the floor.

We both try to catch our breath and as the minutes pass, only the wind outside is heard. He is the first to break the silence.

"So, you don't hate me?" I lift my head from his naked chest to look at him.

"Only sometimes." He shakes his head and smiles, gently stroking my back.

The evening went by quickly, we ordered a pizza and ate it (clothed) on the terrace. We were going over his documents for tomorrow, I blushed at the thought that this was the real reason he came here, but he just hugged me from behind after we finished and continued watching the stars.

It's not really clear what this evening means for us, but I don´t want to get into that, not yet. Because I'm not sure what it means anyway.

Because now, I have to get used to the fact that his voice no longer irritates me, that his jokes no longer annoy me and that he as a person, is actually not as bad as I imagined.

"Who thought, I was the one to get you relax."

But he is still a show-off.

[topazy]

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader

Warnings: Swearing, minor violence

Chapter: 7.02

“Do you need any help?”

“No,” your voice cracks. “I’m fine... but thank you.”

Michonne clears her throat. “Rosita is just down the hall if you need anything. I’m going to go get some clean bandages.”

You nod.

Michonne stares at you for a moment, a sympathetic look on her face, before hesitantly closing the bathroom door. Unlike the house you lived in that only had showers, this one has a bathtub with a shower head attached to the wall. You turn the tap, switching it on; you step back, giving the water a chance to heat up.

You catch your reflection in the mirror; the sight of tangled strands of hair stuck together with blood causes you to almost throw up.

Feeling completely defeated, you step into the bath, wincing because of the pulling sensation on your stitches, then slowly sit down in the tub. Your clothes stick to your body as the warm water sprays over you, and you watch in silence as the foul-colored water, which is darkened by blood and dirt, starts to disappear down the drain.

You're unsure how much time has passed when the door opens. There’s a brief pause before then you hear Carl’s trembling voice, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

He places folded-up towels on the closed toilet lid and sits on the floor beside the tub. You feel Carl grab your hand, and immediately you feel tears well up in your eyes as you think about what Negan tried to do to him, what he tried to make Rick do to his son.

“I should have gone with Maggie,” you eventually say. “I should have stayed with my sister.”

“Selfishly, I’m glad you didn’t; I don’t want to feel alone.”

—

You watch from Carl’s bedroom as the saviors carry chairs, mattresses, food, and weapons to their vans. What the hell did they need all that stuff for? To refurbish their den. You shake your head in disgust watching as Father Gabriel approaches Negan.

“That asshole said we had a week.”

Carl gently pulls you away from the window so you are out of sight. Only a few days have passed since Glenn and Abraham were killed, their blood no doubt still a stain where they died, and Negan was already at the gates of your home looking for half of—well, everything.

“I know you’re beyond pissed, but someone needs to stay with Judith. She’s starting to fuss, and he doesn’t know about her yet. He can’t know.”

You swallow down all the curse words that come to mind. The saviors were getting more rowdy as they stole more belongings and scared more people. “Okay, uh, I’ll take Judith into the attic, and if they ask about the baby stuff, just say we collected it for Maggie.”

“That’s a good idea… I’m sure Maggie and the baby are okay.”

You had gone to great lengths to avoid speaking about your sister at all costs because every time you spoke about her, you broke down in tears. You were desperate to see her, but you completely understood why, at the time, Michonne thought it was best for you to return to Alexandria with them instead. Maggie needed to focus on herself without worrying about you.

“That’s a good idea; I’ll go get her.”

Carl goes to leave, but you catch his hand and lean forward; your lips meet in a kiss. “I’ll stay hidden until you come and find me.”

—

Once the saviors start to drive away, Carl lets you know the coast is clear, and you finally join the rest of your community outside. You weren’t sure of everything that had happened, but Carl told you his dad had to rummage through Spencer’s home to find the guns he was hiding.

While he continues to talk, all you can think about is the anger pulsing through your body. Did Spencer not understand how dangerous these people are? It was surprising Negan didn’t kill anyone else.

Rick notices you holding Judith and waves you over; his daughter was really becoming the light to everyone’s darkness. With so much death, it was easy to want to give up, but her cute little face was a constant reminder to keep going, that there were things worth fighting for.

Noticing Spencer lingering behind him, you narrow your eyes. You don’t hear the full conversation, just the end of it, when you hand Judith over to her father.

“You got lucky with the wall; you got lucky with us.” Rick holds his daughter with one arm and slings the other over your shoulder while walking slowly in the opposite direction. “How are you holding up? Carl told me about your plan. I’m thankful, but you're supposed to be taking it easy—”

“We should have made a deal with them when we could’ve.” Not getting a reaction, Spencer waits until Rick’s further away and shouts, “Oh yeah, we got so lucky. You’ve led us all to the promised land! Isn’t that right, Rick? Here we are! I guess Glenn and Abraham were lucky, too?”

Oh hell no.

You spin fast on your heels and storm towards him. “What was that?”

If it weren’t for Rick, you doubted most of you would still be alive. And for Spencer to bring Glenn and Abraham into his petty argument was bullshit.

Spencer rolls his eyes. “Come on—”

In that moment you want him to feel the same type of hurt everyone else was, but you doubt he is capable of it and jab Spencer on the nose before he can finish his sentence. Rosita jumps out of the car and steps between the two of you. “Y/N, go back inside now. Inside, go.”

—

“You have a good right hook on you.”

“I’m not apologizing. Spencer was being an asshole.”

Carl holds his hands up defensively before coming to join you on the floor. The saviors had taken all the mattresses from his house, so you’d be sleeping on the remaining blankets and pillows, which couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time. Your actions earlier had come back and bitten you in the ass, and your side was now in agonizing pain again.

You hold eye contact while searching Carl’s face for any sign of what he’s feeling. “What’s going on?”

He chews on his bottom lip for a few moments before answering. “I overheard my dad and Michonne talking. Judith is Shane’s.”

Not knowing what to say, you rest your head on his shoulder. Everything was a mess. You had heard whispers while living on the farm and at the prison, but once Lori died, they stopped. “He loves her as much as he loves you.”

“My dad was shot in the line of duty, then a few days later the outbreak happened. I was devastated; I thought I’d lost my dad and my mom… my mom. Shane was his best friend.”

You sit in silence for some time while Carl processes this new information; his hands are trembling. Your eyes are closed until you feel soft lips pressing against the crown of your head. “I thought it was pretty badass when you punched Spencer.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure anyone else thought that.” You look up at all the small holes in the door where Carl has been throwing darts; since his vision was compromised, he was missing the board and hitting the door. You link your fingers with his, “I want to see Maggie. I need to know how she is, how the baby is.”

Carl looks deep in thought; eventually, he scoffs. “If it wasn’t for Negan, you could be with her… I know how to put things right.”

[sissylittlefeather]

Kinktober Day 5: Orgasm Control

Tease

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, cussing, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), mention of squirting, teasing, public play

Word count: ~1.5k

Kinktober Masterlist

Elvis catches your eye across the party and winks. You should roll your eyes, but you can't. Instead you blush and look down at your drink. He wore that damn leather outfit without a shirt underneath it even when you'd begged him not to. He'd originally had a shirt under it, but you had ruined it when he threw you on the bed and licked your pussy until you squirted all over him. You apologized profusely, but he just laughed and pulled it off, putting the jacket back on and zipping it a couple of inches.

"Baby, no, you have to wear a shirt. Or at least zip it."

"Why?" He looked at you mischievously. "This gonna drive you crazy?"

"You know it will! The black leather was bad enough!" He just laughed and slapped your ass.

You know he loves to torture you like this, especially when you're out and about and desperately need to keep your cool. Tonight you're at an after party for his opening show in Vegas and you suspect he's just getting started. You watch as he tries to refocus on his conversation, but a few seconds later, he excuses himself and walks over to you.

"You alright, honey?" You look up at him not amused.

"No. You know exactly what you're doing."

"Awww, hon, I ain't doin' shit. Yet." He grabs your hand and drags you out of the party to the bathroom just down the hall.

"Elvis? What are you-?"

"Take your panties off."

"What?"

"You gonna argue with me?" He gives you a stern look and you know better than to say no. That'll just make it worse. You shimmy out of your panties and let them hit the top of your shoes. He bends over and picks up each foot, pocketing your panties. Then, he starts pressing soft kisses to your thighs and you realize where this is going.

"Elvis, I've already cum three times tonight. You think you're gonna-OH." He's spread your thighs and has his tongue shoved inside you. You whimper as he pushes it in and out and then moves up to your clit. It's still a little swollen and sensitive from your activity before the party, but he doesn't care. He goes to work licking over and around your hardened bud and you start to sweat. "Elvisssss"

You feel him smile as you hiss and start to lose control. Yet another orgasm starts to gather in your hips and just before you cum, he pulls back and stands up, rearranging your skirt.

"What? Why?"

"Oh, I'm not anywhere near finished with you tonight." Your pussy clenches around nothing and you almost slap him.

"I'm gonna kill you."

"Not before you cum, you won't." He smirks and pats your ass. "Let's get back out there."

You groan loudly and follow him out of the bathroom and back to the party, hoping your arousal doesn't run down your leg since he's stolen your panties. He gets you another drink and then starts to move about the room talking to people. You try to focus on talking to people, but your clit is positively throbbing from being so close to an orgasm. Finally, you start to calm down a bit, but it's like he can sense it. He shows up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. You can feel where he's got his erection tucked up under the waistband of his leather pants and start to get wet again. He whispers in your ear.

"You're dying for daddy to fuck you, aren't you little one?" Your breathing picks up and he lets out a small laugh. "My girl is so bad."

He leads you over to a chair and then sits down, pulling you into his lap. You're not sure how he manages it, but he gets his hand up between your thighs without anyone noticing. Or if they notice, they don't act like it. He starts to move his thumb over your pulsing clit and growls in your ear again.

"Oh, baby, this pussy is so needy." He slides his long middle finger inside you and you have to work to contain the yelp of pleasure that threatens to escape. You whisper through gritted teeth.

"You're really gonna do this now?"

"You belong to me, honey. I'll do whatever I want, whenever I want. You really complainin'?" He leans in and kisses your neck as he continues to finger-fuck you under your skirt.

"No." It comes out as a half-moan. He feels your walls start to flutter around him as your climax approaches and pulls his hand back quickly. You turn and look at him with a shocked look on your face, nostrils flaring as you try to control your breathing.

"What? I need to talk to more people." He pats your bottom to indicate that you should get up and you almost scream at him, but you know you can't. You stumble to your feet and press your thighs together to keep from dripping. "I'll be back, baby."

He walks away from you and goes back to chatting with the other guests. You try to make small talk, but your pussy is aching for him and you start to consider going to the bathroom and finishing yourself. When you decide you can't stand it anymore, you excuse yourself and head towards the door. Of course he notices.

"Where ya goin' honey?" You get out to the hallway and turn to him.

"I'm going to finish what you started before I drip on the floor."

"Aw, doll, you know I can't let you do that."

"You're not the boss of me!" You shriek at him frantically. He laughs and walks towards you until your back is pressed up against the wall.

"Oh, but I think I am."

"Daddy, please, I gotta cum or I might die."

"You're not gonna die, little one." He gently kisses your lips and then your neck and collarbone. He grinds his hips against you, pressing his dick against your center. You moan loudly, almost completely losing control. His hand trails up your thigh, grazing your clit lightly.

"Fuck!" You whimper. He grins against your skin and nips you with his teeth.

"Does my baby wanna cum?"

"Yes, daddy, please." His fingertips find your clit and he rubs over it hard.

"Oh, God." You hold onto his shoulders as he flicks your button and you're damn near there when the door opens and Charlie pokes his head out. You groan loudly as he pulls his hand back again.

"Boss, the camera guys are looking for you." Charlie realizes what is happening and clears his throat awkwardly. "Fuck, I'm sorry, boss."

"She's the one you need to apologize to." You glare at Charlie.

"Sorry, y/n. They just told me to come get him." Elvis kisses your forehead.

"I'll be back, honey. Don't touch yourself. I will not be pleased." He looks at you sternly again and you nod reluctantly. You take his hand and let him lead you back into the party once more.

Another 20 minutes pass as he walks around the party. This time he keeps glancing at you, though, and you can tell he's eager to get back to you and let you finish. You make eye contact across the room and bite your bottom lip, rubbing your thighs together. He notices what you're doing and inhales sharply, excusing himself from the conversation.

You don't even wait for him, you just head to the bathroom. In the hallway, though, he grabs you and directs you towards the elevator. The doors slide open and he pushes you into the small car, barely waiting for the doors to close before he's on his knees with his tongue in your pussy. He grabs your thigh and puts it on his shoulder to give him better access and licks you like his life depends on it. You're so turned on from all his teasing that you cum within seconds, one hand tangled in his hair as you moan and cuss loudly. He tongues you through your orgasm and then pulls back, leaning his forehead against your abdomen.

"Is the party over?" You ask tentatively. You've got what you wanted, so now you can think about other things. He looks up at you from where he's on his knees.

"It is for me, baby. If I don't fuck you soon, I might die." You cup his cheek with your hand.

"You won't die, baby."

"Oh, don't you dare be like that." He stands up and grabs the back of your hair, kissing you deeply.

"Like what?" You look up at him innocently. The elevator doors slide open and he doesn't even think. He throws you over his shoulder and carries you into his suite. You giggle and squeal and he slaps your ass.

"You're gonna let daddy fuck you, little one." He grunts.

"We'll see." You say, teasingly.

But you know you will. You always do. And it's worth it every time.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @deltafalax @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @jhoneybees @polksaladava @searchingforgravity @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @peaceloveelvis @your-nanas-house @makethemorning @theelvisprincess @mrspresley69

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