#the dangers that could amount from it too tho like

[izzyspussy]

why are they laughing at him as he gets straight up killed??? he doesn't deserve this! he's a sweet kid at heart! he literally just needs one (1) real friend!!

[pollyanna-nana]

Imagine you’re Delgal. Imagine you were raised from birth alongside the court jester. You do everything together. You look up to him, being so much older. He seems wise and responsible, and always encouraging you and caring for you, more than your own busy parents are able to. In every sense of the word, he is your brother, despite how different you look and the distance of your station. The people around you tell you that he is an elf, the tone of their voice implying that’s something scary or even dangerous. But you disagree. That’s Thistle, your big brother.

But… as you age, things become confusing. You get taller, smarter, stronger, and Thistle is there for you through it all. Only… he never seems to change. In your entire journey to adulthood, he hardly seems to have aged a few years, if that. It’s amusing when you first grow taller than him, then grow facial hair, while Thistle’s short stature and youthful face remains the same. Still, you love him, love his music and his wit and even the bold-faced honesty that gets him in trouble if you’re not around to diffuse the situation. You wonder why such a person has been relegated to the inglorious job of jester, and your father tells you very simply that the magic elves wield is too powerful and dangerous to belong to any other position. But you think that’s nonsense, you’ve trusted Thistle from the day you were born and would do so until the day you die.

It isn’t until what should’ve been the happiest day of your life that you truly start to understand just how different Thistle is from you. Kneeling over your father’s cooling corpse, you take in the elf’s panicked face. He’s so young, so unchanged, and in that moment he seems nearly immortal to you. You’ve heard the stories of elf magic, how their spells could be used to heal wounds and raise the dead, but Thistle can’t do any of that. He hasn’t been allowed to. There’s nothing that either of you can do but watch your father slowly die in front of you.

You never want this to happen again, not when there’s something that can stop it. You make Thistle the court sorcerer, even as your advisors warn against it. But you’re the king, goddamn it, and you trust him. But more than that, you want what he can give to you. A power greater than any tallman could achieve. You become busier and busier, only checking up occasionally on his studies. He’s become incredibly proficient in a short amount of time, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Enemies knock on your door, famine chokes the population, and worst of all your beloved son has fallen ill. It’s just like the day of your wedding, but this time, you have something that can defy that fate. Thistle.

But still, it’s not enough. It seems that even elf magic has its limits, and you can’t help but become angry with him. He reacts like a scorned child— is a scorned child, as you’ve come to realize— and you apologize. But he tells you he has something secret to show you, something he’s been searching for, researching for these past few years. The idea unsettles you, but you’ve become desperate, and you can see that he has, too. So you follow him into the dungeon, watch him smash the statue of your kingdom’s guardian and pull the book from the rubble that would decide your and your people’s fate.

Your son is healed, your enemies repelled, and your people fed and taken care of. You’re happy, and so Thistle is, too. You recognize, vaguely, that despite this achievement the familial bonds between the two of you have never been thinner. But you don’t dwell on it. He did what you needed him to do, and now you no longer had to fear the indignity of death or strife.

But of course, things do not remain sweet forever. Thistle has only grown more attached to you, more loyal, and his behavior has become erratic and strange. He keeps you all cooped up in the dungeon, insisting that the outside world is too dangerous. There’s a hardness to his still-youthful features that you never saw throughout all those years growing up alongside him. Slowly but surely the person in your memory is replaced by something frightening, almost repulsive, after he strips your own son’s soul from his body. He seems so unaffected by it all, so… inhuman.

Eventually he decides to give you what you said you wanted all those years ago: to no longer fear death. To become immortal. But it is not what you had hoped for— every day seems to drag into infinity, with joy and mirth seeping rapidly from the unsettled townsfolk as decades, then centuries pass. Thistle has become entirely unapproachable, spending all his time fortifying the dungeon and watching obsessively for any signs of traitors that might challenge the throne. You feel hopeless in it all. No matter how you beg, he never seems to hear you. His power is overwhelming and you fear how he might react to more direct commands. The guilt is intense… you know you pushed him into this, pushed him to find a way to achieve everlasting peace at any cost. But this cost is too much. How could he not see that?

1000 years. 1000 years of this torture, and the population of your kingdom has dwindled to almost nothing. In your dreams you see the vision of a golden lion in chains, its wings pinned as it pleads with you to save it. To save your kingdom, to put the remaining souls to rest. You know what needs to be done, it’s told you the best way. You tell the mad mage that you wish to have dinner together with the whole ‘family’— just like the olden days— and the way his face lights up is almost enough to make you reconsider. Almost.

It was a lie, of course. While he’s distracted you take your son’s empty body, making your way to the surface as fast as your legs can carry you. You know what’s about to happen. You’ll become nothing but dust, but you’ll be free. And with any luck, soon everyone else will be, too. Breaching the surface you get the first rays of sun on your face in a millennium, take your last breaths of fresh air as you tell the story that will free your kingdom.

As you crumble away to nothing, a last thought enters your mind. Perhaps they were all right. Perhaps it was a mistake to trust an elf.

[morimemichael]

Pretty Boy

Brahms x reader

Brahms gets hurt badly after fighting your ex, and in the middle his mask flew off somewhere. Unconscious on the floor, you try to help him and clean the wounds

wg: Besides mentions of blood and open wounds, just fluff and Brahms being Brahms <3

It was a nasty fight, shattered glass flew over everywhere. Brahms got your ex to run away tho. For him, the fight and all the wounds were worth it. He’ll do anything for you. Due to the uncommon amount of effort he did and wounds he gain, he pass out right then and there. His mask was out, somewhere on the floor.

“Brahms…” You whispered. He didn’t respond. Your eyes went through every wound he had, until they reached his uncovered face. You could tell that at least a %50 of his face was burnt. Not that you cared tho, you still wouldn’t leave him for that.

With much, much effort you lift him to the bed, so you could treat his wounds better. His chest rising up slowly, a sign he was still breathing. You gathered everything you could reach to disinfect the bloody cuts. You were lucky enough the Heelshires had everything you could need in case something like this happens. You managed to get some pads, bandages and alcohol. You wet the little pads with alcohol and brush them against the fresh wounds, sounds of pain and visible discomfort could be heard from Brahms. You felt terrible, but you needed to disinfect.

“I know…I know Brahms.” You reassured. Whenever you brush the pads against his wounds you would move your hand in a certain way so the could blow some air in attempt to lessen the sting.

A few minutes later you managed to bandage all of his wounds. He was still asleep. He seemed so peacefully you didn’t wanna disturb him. You sat down on the bed next to him and caressed his messy brown hair, admiring his features. You took your right hand and placed it on his burnt side.

Who cares if he’s burnt? You thought to yourself.

You didn’t know how ir when you stared whispering things to his sleeping form.

“You know, I like your hair Brahms.” You didn’t know if he could hear you or not, but honestly, you didn’t care.

“And your eyes…your eyes are special.” You continued. You kept complimenting his body and face, and all the things he did for you, and keeping you safe.

“Thanks…for what you did for me today. But I don’t want you to do it again, it’s far too dangerous. And I love you too much for you to bleed out on me.” This was the first time you tell him you love him. Eventually you fell asleep on his side, you being the big spoon. You liked the body difference, but with this guy, being the big spoon was a little bit uncomfortable. Suddenly you woke up when your arms reached to hug him but didn’t find a body to hug.

“Brahms?…” You called for him. You didn’t found him next to you on the bed, instead his was sitting on the edge of it. “Brahms?”

“You know, I didn’t want you to see my face…eventually i would take my mask off. Once there was enough trust between us. That was the original plan…” He explained.

“Oh…Brahms…I really don’t mi-” You were interrupted by him.

“I-I didn’t want to show you my face, I don’t want to scare you away…please, your everything I have left.” You notice his voice cracking and sobbing when he told you this.

“I wasn’t going to leave you Brahms…I would have never…” Now, you sitting next to him, you give him little palms on his back.

“Thanks…for patching me up.”

“You’re welcome, Brahmsy.” You said smiling. “Hey…look at me, look at me.” With one hand you tilted his head so he was facing you.

“I love you. You heard me?” You looked at him straight into his eyes.

“I love you too.” He replied.

You whipped the tears from his cheeks with your sweater’s sleeve and then proceeded to kiss his burnt cheek. You melted when you saw he blushed.

“Aww…that’s so sweet.” You remarked.

“I swear to god if you tell any-” This time you interrupted.

“Yeah…yeah…”

“I-i, if-…okay, you win.” He said at last.

Once you were in the room, he caressed the exactly spot your lips touched moment ago, and blushed again.

Well, this short fic was due that people voted for a Brahms fic 😊 hope you liked it, and again sorry for any misspelling mistakes, English it’s not my mother language.

See you around!

[majimasleftasscheek]

I've been thinking, about how you would make sea creature kazumaji... do you already have headcannons for that or is it something more new?

a lil mix of both 🤔 I originally drew eeljima for MerMay and was gonna leave it at that but I got really attached to the idea of kiryu and his dumb fish boyfriend so I rolled with it kdlsjfddsf. I got a few ideas tho 👀

majima's an eel - nothing specific but I leaned to electric since the rpg games give him electricity as an element. also, knifefish (what a coincidentally convenient name 👀) have spots that remind me of his snake's spots so that fit well with his overall theme plus they're related to eels so even better >:D saejima's also a fishdude, a grouper specifically because they're huge and chonky but also gentle uwu

kiryu's a silly lil fisherman guy, one of them commercial types that goes out on a boat to get big hauls. nishiki's there too being the saddest wettest little beast. other characters make up part of the crew in similar ways the canon families are set up. so like kazama and kashiwagi for example are captains of the crew

I have thought about if they were fish too if I wanted to do a branching AU of this and kiryu could maybe be a thresher shark - because they got that big slappy tail but also their huge beautiful eyes™. OR a betta fish because I think the colors would really compliment his heat colors. nishiki can be a koi because of course

kiryu and nishiki live in a lil shack on the shore. nishiki hates it but kiryu likes the simplicity and being close to work. nishiki would move closer to the city but frankly all the haircare product he buys is so obscene that he can't afford a place on his own ✌

majima and saejima (+ yasuko) live in some nearby kelp forests/coral reefs. merfolk tend to stay away from humans and live further out in the ocean, deeper underwater but these three take advantage of all commercial fishing going on to get some easy food. but being so close to fishing trawlers, this leads to majima getting caught in a discarded net, being trapped and beached where kiryu finds him 👀

merfolk can breath air and go on land but it is as awkward as you can imagine. when majima hangs out with kiryu, kiryu drags him up the beach to enough dry land where the tide isn't a problem. merfolk do have to be moisturized often so majima's either doused with a bucket of water or gets a big ass lathering of lotion. whether or not that'd actually be realistic doesn't matter to me I just think it'd be funny for nishiki to be very suspect of the comical amount of lotion kiryu suddenly starts buying

majima's fav thing to do with kiryu is have him fry up some fish since he's never had cooked food before and thinks it's the bee's knees. kiryu will often go into town to buy all sorts of things for majima to try or majima will catch some wack fish from who knows where for kiryu to fry up. they pick secluded beaches as not to be disturbed but kiryu is ready to fling majima into the ocean at a moment's notice just in case

majima has a second set of jaws normally not visible unless he's snacking on a fish. sometimes he pops em out for a smooch and kiryu is wary but willing to try anything 😤 nishiki is often very worried about the numerous weird bite marks kiryu comes home with but kiryu chalks it up to clumsily falling face first into some coral. you can tell by now I'm very into the trope of person dating a cretur is very bad at keeping it a secret dsklgjk

majima tends to have electrical flare ups when he's feeling emotional so kiryu ends up getting zapped a lot. it's not enough to be dangerous but kiryu has since avoided touching light switches and makes nishiki use them first

rarely kiryu will take majima out on the town in a wheelbarrow covered in a blanket and everyone's like *squint* but eventually gets used to his funny lil friend who seems fascinated by literally everything

there's defo some tigerfish action at a later point once nishiki eventually decides to follow kiryu to one of his little secret beachside escapades to not only find out kiryu's being a weirdo as usual but now with a weirdo fishguy. on the other side, saejima is eventually convinced that there is not a bunch of people on the shore waiting with harpoons and nets and joins majima for one of kiryu's fish fries and finds out hey maybe humans ain't so bad if they can put up with majima for more than five minutes

[floralpascal]

Lines Crossed

Summary: Ghost realizes that he needs you more than he thought and makes a risky trip to your room while trying not to get caught.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.4k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, mdni!)

Warnings: kissing, unprotected p-in-v sex (you know the drill, wrap it y'all), secret relationship, Ghost realizing that he's absolutely whipped

A/N: The idea of Ghost being whipped just took over my mind and this is what came out. This was so much fun to write that I'm thinking about making this a mini series looking at various points in their relationship

Illicit Indulgences Series Masterlist

There were lines Ghost didn’t cross.

He didn’t get involved. He didn’t let himself care. And he sure as hell didn’t let himself need someone.

For you, though, he seemed to be willing to cross every single line imaginable whether he liked it or not. He had gotten involved, telling himself then that it was just a one-time thing. He would get his fill of you for a night and he would be done, finally able to get you off of his mind. But that hadn’t been how it had gone down. Having you once only let the hold you had on him dig in deeper, settling in his bones until he found himself in your bed again. And again.

With each secret night spent in your room or his, a shitty hotel or a secluded backroom, whatever this was with you pulled him deeper into the unknown. His thoughts drifted to you even when you weren’t in the room. He found himself being more protective of you in the field. He began to check in on you enough that Soap had finally said, “Styx will be fine, Ghost. She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.” Soon, he had to finally admit that he had crossed the second line. He cared.

The third line…

Ghost groaned in frustration, running a hand down his face. Staring into the darkness of his room for hours with sleep evading his grasp, he was starting to grow both restless and frustrated. Having trained himself to fall asleep under any conditions in order to scrape together any amount of sleep he could while in the field, his newfound difficulties falling asleep were an unwelcome surprise. It had plagued him for the last month, making him markedly more irritable - enough to draw the entire team’s attention. He had blown off Price when he had carefully broached the subject, asserting that there was nothing wrong at all. Lie.

It was your bloody fault. It was your face that kept him up at night in one way or another. It was the way you looked when your head was tipped back, your mouth open in a silent scream as he fucked you. It was the way you looked out in the field, your strong shoulders square and hard eyes trained forward as you held your gun and swept a building. It was your pained grimace as Ghost tried to stop the bleeding from the bullet you had taken to the stomach a year ago.

His head filled with a mix of scenes of bliss and scenes of horror, both of which you were the star of. Either way, it kept his brain whirring enough to ward away sleep. His mind was a whirlwind, fast and screaming and disorienting with the thought of you.

You were barely fifty meters away from him right now, your own room merely on the other side of the corridor. He couldn’t believe he was imagining walking down to your room now, in the middle of the night with everyone else in their own rooms right down the hall. It was dumb and reckless and-

And the thought alone made him feel better.

The thought of your skin on his, your hands buried in his hair, and your mouth on his was like a forbidden salve to his irritation. Having you under him, so vibrant and alive, chased away all the scenes of you in danger that his mind seemed to love to conjure up these days.

Irrational thoughts plagued him now, too. What if something was wrong with you? What if you were hurt? Forget the fact that they were on a secure base or that he had seen you only hours earlier, it didn’t matter to Ghost’s brain in the dark like this. Though he logically knew that his thoughts were irrational figments of his overactive mind, his body didn’t seem to be getting the memo.

It was like he wasn’t convinced you were safe until he saw you himself. Until he felt the plush of your skin under his fingers.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell,” he grumbled, practically dumbfounded by his own decision, as he forcefully flung the covers from his body. He grabbed the balaclava from his nightstand, slipping the soft cloth over his face before throwing a random shirt over his bare torso.

The corridor was empty at this time of night, but Ghost stayed vigilant anyways. He crept toward your door, eyes on the other gray doors that housed the rest of the 141. He had never been this bold, this reckless, as to try to slip into your room when everyone was asleep in their own rooms right beside yours, usually limiting your nights together to when the other guys went out to a pub or split up to go on leave. If anyone caught him - your superior - slipping into your room in the middle of the night, there would surely be hell to pay. Yet, he couldn’t stop.

With one last look at the empty, monochrome hallway, he found the handle to your door and slipped soundlessly into your room.

Despite the fact that he had been quiet, you seemed to sense the intrusion. Your eyes snapping open, you pushed your top half up from the pillow, your body tense like you were ready for a fight. You leaned forward and flicked on the bedside lamp.

Your eyes landed on Ghost and he watched as you relaxed again, your sleep-heavy eyes softening as they held his gaze.

“Ghost…” you whispered, clearly as astounded by his presence in your room as he was.

Everything in him screamed that this was a bad idea. That he should go back to his room before he made any more bad decisions. But then you smiled at him, easy and warm and inviting. No bad decision could look like that.

“You okay?” You asked, voice light and laced with sleep. It was concern, though, that sat behind your words. Concern for him, genuine and raw.

Ghost felt something in him crack at that question. Something he knew he wouldn’t come back from.

With two quick strides across your room, he crossed that third line.

In the pale yellow light of the lamp, he pulled the balaclava from his head, letting the cloth fall to the floor. He was already climbing above you in the bed as your eyes snapped wide and you scanned his face for the first time, taking in his features above you. Him. You finally saw him.

Ghost’s breathing picked up as you lifted a hand to his cheek and ran a thumb over his cheek. He had wondered what you would look like if you ever saw him without the mask. Somehow, he had never never expected that you would look at him so tenderly. It seemed wrong that anyone could look at someone as cold and hardened as Ghost like this. But, fuck, it was doing things to him.

When he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, he slammed his lips into yours. You returned the kiss with a fire that made everything worth it. The blood. The explosions. The secrecy. The sleepless nights.

“Am now,” he mumbled against your lips. He couldn’t say anything else, he could only let the fire he had for you take over and burn everything left in him.

You melted into his affections, immediately grabbing onto his shoulders as he stripped your mouth bare. The little sounds you made spurred him on, making him feel better than he had the entire night. Forget sleep, he could live solely fueled by this.

Then, your hands slid up into his hair, tugging at the mask-flattened strands. A groan fell from Ghost’s lips as he started to fumble for the hem of your shirt, needing you freed from it immediately. He needed to feel you against him, as close as you possibly could be. Needed you wrapped around him in every possible way.

Need. Need. Need. It was a terrifying, unstoppable feeling.

As you both discarded your clothes, your hands desperately searching for skin, Ghost couldn’t help but think of how apt your nickname was. Styx. A mythological river, threatening to pull him under, the waters that he was drowning in also making him damn near invulnerable to all else in the world, save for his one spot of vulnerability. You.

The Styx was believed to be at the edge of the earth and the underworld, you had told him once. Being with you felt kind of like that, he supposed. Like he was at the edge of reality and the mythological. Something he never thought he would have compared to the reality of you underneath him.

Your lips wiped the fucked up worries from his mind, your hands grounding him in the raging current.

You let out a moan as Ghost slipped two fingers into you, trying to get you ready for him as quickly as possible tonight. He clamped a large hand over your mouth as he started to pump his fingers in and out.

“Keep quiet, love,” he purred into your ear, knowing exactly what his low, gravelly voice did to you. Your fingers came to clamp down on his shoulder in your desperation. “We don’t want any interruptions.”

You nodded, your eyes locking with his for a moment before they fluttered closed. He watched you like this, lost in bliss, and tried to commit the image to memory. He would store it away for another cold, lonely night when he couldn’t be here with you, when sleep evaded him.

He so desperately wanted to hear you - to hear the way he could make you scream out his name - but he knew it wasn’t possible right now. Your muffled groans and the way you tipped your head back as he curled his fingers into you would have to suffice.

“So wet for me, love,” he whispered into your ear as he increased his pace, feeling how close you were to the edge as your velvety walls fluttered around him. “Were you thinking about me?”

You jerked your head in a nod, his hand stifling another choked moan from your lips. The sincerity in your movement sent his ego soaring in a way he had never experienced before. Fucking hell, he had never experienced anything like this before. You had a frightening power over him, a grip on his very being that was so deep he didn’t think he could detach it and still survive.

It was terrifying and thrilling and oh-so wonderful.

You shattered under his touch, your pussy clenching around his fingers as you rode out the waves of pleasure he was bringing you. Your hand grasped at his forearm, searching for anything that could steady you.

When you came down and released him from your grip, your eyes fluttered back open. Through your haze, your eyes found his, a want deeper than just lust pouring from your expression. He couldn’t take it anymore. He fucking needed you.

Ghost tore his hand away from your mouth before he crashed his lips to yours again, all heat and fervor. You met him halfway, pushing up to run a hand through his hair. You had done this before in the dark, but it felt even more intense now that you knew what it looked like. What he looked like. You weren’t kissing a faceless man, you were kissing him.

“Simon…” you whined against his lips. “Please.”

Years ago, when you had first met, he wouldn’t have believed that he would ever hear you like this. Usually when you talked, your voice was strong. Unwavering. Fit for a battlefield. To hear you beg for him like this, your words strained, broken, and laced with desire, was something reverent.

He buried his cock in you in one smooth stroke, his lips still on yours. It was still a stretch to fit him, but it was always a stretch. From the very beginning his pace was brutal, his hips slamming into yours over and over. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise so he could hold you in place while he hit the spot deep inside you that always had you breaking for him. He knew he had found it when your legs boxed his hips in and your hips jerked up to meet his thrusts. Your heels rested on his ass, pulling him impossibly deeper into you.

You were squeezing him so tight as he pounded into your sweet cunt that for the first time all night, his head was clear. All that existed was you and the growing heat in his stomach.

Ghost dropped his head down to your neck, his teeth nipping at the soft, delicate flesh at the base of it as one of his hands released its hold on your hip to find your clit. He knew exactly what to do to send you over the edge again, exactly how hard to press, how tight of circles to draw.

“F-fuck, Simon, I’m g-gonna-” you stuttered out, unable to finish your own sentence. But he knew. He could feel how close you were, the tension drawn tight that was about to snap.

His own rhythm was growing sloppy, the pleasure about to take him under. With a few more calculated thrusts, you came once again, your whole body spasming around him. Your hands clawed at his back as your pussy squeezed him so hard it took him with you. A zap of electricity raced down his spine as he released into you, hot and thick. He fucked it into you, so deep he was sure you would still feel him at breakfast tomorrow morning.

He was so fucked. He had crossed every line and now there was no turning back. There was no stopping this anymore. He needed you. Maybe it was wrong to hope that you needed him just as much, but he did.

Ghost panted against your collar, letting the soft, methodical way you drew circles on his scalp pull him back to reality. Back to you.

He pulled out and rolled over onto the bed, pulling you with him. After taking a few minutes to clean you up, he pulled you to lay on top of him. With his arms around you and the feel of your steady breathing against his chest, sleep finally found him and pulled him under.

[the-dawn-star]

Hello! I just wanted to ask for a Volturi kings x fem!mate who is very powerful. The problem is that they don't exactly know how powerful she is cause she's all happy and bubbly person and very rarely use her powers. So when the king's lives are in danger, she gets all angry and mouthy to the threat and just uses her powers and just annihilate them. Que open-mouthed vamps and one aroused blonde lol.

A/N: Pikachu meme was my inspiration and let’s once ignore the fact that Aro can read minds! Also, it is hard to imagine a situation where the kings could be harmed so apologies for the bad plot that I made up. 

-S

+400ish words.

TW/CW: Three cases of beheading (blame Stephenie Meyer for making the vampires so over powered). I can't think of anything else!

It took them quite a long time before your mates even realized that you had special powers.   

You really didn’t talk about them because to you it wasn’t anything too special and due to your bubbly personality, you rarely talked about any bad past experiences.   

You sat on Caius’s lap playing with his extravagant clothes whilst waiting for the trial to start.   

The room was mostly empty, only consisting of the three kings, you and two lower guards. The next case was said to be pretty simple and quick, so it was deemed that a massive security wasn’t needed. Also, the higher guards were in need of a break.   

The heavy doors opened, and you quieted down.   

You didn’t really know what the man being escorted had done. But from what you had heard from your mates, the man had hurt many people causing humans to start to question what was going on.   

You didn’t really pay attention to the happenings. Aro took the lead like most of the time. He gently took the hand of the man in front of him, diving into the man’s memories.   

Aro most of the times closed his eyes when using his powers. He said that it was because it helped him to concentrate on the vast amount of information that he was getting.   

You weren’t sure what happened but in seconds the man pulled his hand away from Aro and the two guards on the floor were on the floor heads separated from their bodies.   

All of your mates seemed very confused. It had been centuries since one who was standing in trial had attacked the kings.   

Before you could stop yourself, you got up from Caius’s lap and activated your power.   

Mid movement the man stopped, half a step away from Aro trying to behead Aro just like he had done with the guards. Slowly bringing his hands down.    

“What the hell happened?” Caius said, taking your hands to his.   

You didn’t have any time to respond when Aro had twisted the man’s head off of his body, letting the body and head fall on the ground unceremoniously.  

“I used my powers on him...” You said, finally diverting your gaze from the man.  

“Aro...”   

Your mate turned to look at you and you ran to him taking him into a hug.   

“And remind us of what exactly your powers were...” Caius said, still very confused.   

“I can control people's bodies...” You said, getting embarrassed of all the attention that you were getting.   

“And you didn’t inform us of this power?” Marcus asked.   

“I mean it's not really that impressive, so I didn’t see the point in it...” 

~~~

Feel like you want to support me via Kofi? No preasure tho!

[amadeness]

── .✦ Dating Bakugou Katsuki - general headcanons (x male reader, time-skip)

WORD COUNT: 1097

── .✦

It takes him an unbelievable amount of time to realize he likes you. But once he does, he’ll be extremely straightforward. (He believes it will be easier for him once he gets rejected.)

Somehow always secretly knew that he was into guys but decided to ignore it. He wasn’t really interested in relationships, to begin with.

He’s not gay. He just really likes you. A man. (His words. He doesn’t want to label himself.)

Invites you on a date but forgets to tell you that it’s a date and not just you two hanging out. Realizes in the middle of the night and then just casually drops: “Oh yeah, this is a date. I like you.” like it’s not that big of a deal. Gets upset when you stare at him in confusion after.

Might try to act romantic in the beginning, it’s what he always assumed relationships are about. But once he realizes it’s not working for him, he’ll drop it pretty quickly. (Doesn’t mean that he can’t be romantic on occasion. It’s just it only works when he’s not actually trying.)

Nothing is stopping YOU from being romantic tho, if you know what I mean. 

His love languages are food and fighting. He’ll try to feed you delicious food while complimenting anything you cook (unless you’re like… really bad. Then he’ll try to teach you.) 

Everything you two do is a competition. It was like that even before you started dating but now he doesn’t get as angry when you win, just pouty. He enjoys seeing you getting better at whatever you do, it’s also a great way to spend time with each other.

The big spoon. Feels like he’s keeping you safe like this.

He’s not easing his family into anything. He’ll just casually drop that he has a boyfriend at a family dinner and move on. The fact that it was after about half of a year of you two dating isn’t that surprising.

Will refuse to elaborate when anyone asks any following questions.

The squad had to figure it out on their own. Maybe after months of him acting weird, Denki accidentally crashes your date. Katsuki still refuses to say anything, so you’ll have to be the one to break the news.

Doesn’t really get jealous. Is more offended that this whoever thought they could take his place.

He really enjoys doing simple everyday tasks with you - think cooking, grocery shopping, and cleaning. Being a pro might make some of this a bit more complicated due to the possibility of being recognized in public, but that doesn’t stop the two of you.

Personally commissions matching pieces of jewellery for your three-month anniversary. A ring (that he wears on a chain around his neck) for him and whatever you prefer for you. Both pieces can be used as trackers in case of emergencies and are made from (almost) indestructible material. Will sulk if he sees you’re not wearing it.

── .✦ Pro-Hero!reader

On the fence about working with you. Seeing you and personally making sure that you’re doing alright is easing his anxieties. Sometimes he can get a bit distracted tho.

But don’t be mistaken. He knows how strong you are and that you can take care of yourself just fine, he probably wouldn’t be into you otherwise. That doesn’t mean he can’t be anxious.

You probably went to a different hero school. You first met during a joint training/license exam and when you guys graduated, you started working for the same agency.

He’s fascinated by your efficiency on the field and strategic thinking. Your first real conversation was him asking you to spar.

── .✦ Civilian!reader

Doesn’t matter if you have a quirk or not, he’ll insist on you learning self-defence and will teach you personally.

What attracted him to you was your fearlessness while facing any kind of danger. That doesn’t mean he isn’t angry any time you get in danger’s way without you needing to.

You two probably met during some kind of emergency. You did something stupid to help apprehend the villain or save another civilian. First, he screamed at you for being too reckless. Then he complimented you on your quick thinking and courage.

Later he found out that you frequent his favourite restaurant/bar and you started talking. When the squad found out, they decided to befriend you too and adopt you into the friend group.

── .✦ nsfw

A power bottom. Wants to feel the maximum amount of pleasure but doesn’t want to give up control.

Nothing happens until he’s the one feeling it. You’re horny but he’s not? Great, take care of it on your own.

Your first time together was awkward. He refuses to talk about it in advance and just… believes that you two will figure it out as you go. The night ends with a ruined orgasm, bruise and one pouty blond.

After that, he was finally convinced to have a proper conversation with you. He wouldn’t look into your eyes the whole time, but he was surprisingly straightforward about his likes and dislikes, carefully listening to everything you’ve said.

Praise kink, but no degradation, please.

Bondage is also a big, non-negotiable no for him. As well as breath play. (both giving and receiving)

I think he’d be against consciously hurting you in general.

On the other hand, he’s really into leaving hickeys and edging. (giving)

Really into quickies if he’s the one initiating. He refuses to do it in any “weird” or unsanitary places but around the house? His favourite was the kitchen counter. (He was strictly against it at first but then it just happened and he enjoyed it a bit too much. He had to disinfect the place three times before he was calm again. Now he sometimes gets horny while cooking because he keeps thinking of it.)

Starts out rough and fast. The more rounds, the gentler and slower he gets, craving more affection.

Expects and loves aftercare, even tho he’ll pretend he hates it at first and that you don’t need to fuss about him.

Help to clean both him and the bed up before burying under the fresh covers together to cuddle and talk. Doesn’t matter if it’s about the sex you just had or about your day. He just wants to listen to your voice while lying on your chest and tracing patterns into your naked skin.

Will act annoyed if he can’t walk the next day but you both know that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

── .✦ (please excuse any mistakes, i'm not a native speaker)

── .✦ © all rights reserved to amadeness. do not repost or translate without permission.

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟐 : 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐣𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞/𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 & 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫/𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. smut. wolf shifter au. werewolves. no abo dynamics. outdoor sex. scent kink. vaginal sex. fingering. possessive behavior. predator/prey kink. tummy bulge. breeding kink. knotting (but not really). mention of heat/rut cycles. no protection. carlos’ filthy mouth. author may have cooked a little too hard 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 6k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: carlos sainz jr x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻��𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: peek-a-boo • red velvet

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: fair warning this is the most foul thing i’ve written ever. like, i thought the first upload was unsettling, but this is terrifying in comparison. i think i’m getting better tho, low key. no, this was not an excuse to write a breeding kink 😒. this was an excuse to spread my personal feeling that i think carlos sainz jr is a massive freak, and i will take no criticism on that 😩. but i do apologize for his foul ass mouth at the end. imma try and get these out quicker because i realized that if i’m releasing one fic every week, i will not be finishing this b4 the end of the month. there unfortunately will be no part two to this, it’s a standalone, i got so many things to write now, im sorry :( i hope you all enjoy it (i did an embarrassing amount of research for this aka twilight wiki), and thank you for all the support !!!

want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general taglist? send me an ask!

thank you to my beta readers @saintslewis and @my-ylenia ! i appreciate y'alls quick feedback :)

cross-posted on my ao3, httpsss

have the link to my general masterlist, and my f1 kinktober masterlist ! and send me a private message if you'd like to be added to the beta reader waitlist for this special!

carlos is not a werewolf. carlos is a born wolf; he comes from a long familial line of shifters. while he and his wolf share a brain, carlos is in control one-hundred percent of the time. he can shift into a wolf at will and maintains awareness as the wolf. however, during the full moon, it’s extremely difficult for shifters to resist the call and refrain from transforming. werewolves, on the other hand, are created by a curse or from being bitten. they are forced to change into a beast every full moon, thirsting for blood and carnage. their humanity isn’t present in the half-wolf/half-human form; being a werewolf is like a parasitic disease. carlos’ family has found their calling in bringing a sense of order to the wild, and during full moons, their purpose is to contain and redirect the beastly werewolves from harming humans.

shifters are rare, and carlos prefers it that way (he doesn’t ever want to find out what tension multiple shifters on the grid could cause). his nature doesn’t give him any unfair advantages in an f1 car, sure, his reaction time may be a little quicker, and he heals faster–but, nothing that would classify as “cheating.” if he did have any extreme advantages, maybe he’d end max’s world champion streak, but that is not the case; anything about his nature still couldn’t make up ferrari’s shortcomings.

the only downside to being a shifter is how they’re mistaken for werewolves (even though they are obviously two completely different beings). the world doesn’t know about the shifter population at large, it’s mainly an “if you know you know” society, and werewolves are known to the masses with how many slaughters they’ve been caught doing from the beginning of time. which is massively unfortunate for carlos. if he were to be revealed as a wolf shifter, he’d probably lose everything he knows–formula one, his privacy, his family, you–and he would probably be scheduled for a public execution if those were still in place. he’s only trusted a small circle of people within formula one with the secret of his wolf; lando, charles, fernando, jon and rupert, and vasseur. it’s made his life easier having people that are aware of his true nature, so he can shift comfortably during race weekends if needed, when you are not able to join him.

regardless of how the world views carlos’ supernatural state, you genuinely don’t understand how people could be terrified of him. carlos is ‘the dream man’™, and you’re not accepting any critiques on that matter. he’s a personal-sized space heater, so you don’t have to worry about being cold at night–and he doesn’t even complain when you stick your icicle-like toes and fingers on him. he cleans without being told to, he’s an excellent home chef, he takes you golfing with him and even lets you caddy for him, he’s protective but in a respectful manner, and he even partial shifts around you so you can play with his ears and give him a good little scratch.

the only downside you could point out about carlos, is that he takes his wolf form a little too seriously. 

carlos was raised to train his inner wolf into a controlled, unfazed, unshaken, apex-predator being. the wolf has one purpose and it’s to guard his territory, the people he loves, and to prevent any werewolf murder sprees. but, you wish he’d allow himself to relax, and have a little more fun in his wolf form.

you’ve started training him, funnily enough, to allow his wolf to be off the clock sometimes. subconsciously, in the comfort of the spanish villa you two call home, he’s started to allow his ears to pop out whenever he’s relaxed enough. the spaced out and confused faces and noises he makes, with his head and ears flicking and tilting to match, invokes an unhealthy sense of cute-aggression from you. sometimes, you manage to persuade him enough to shift to his full wolf form, and that’s where you find the most difficulty of calming his behavior.

he’ll go around sniffing and rubbing his body along all of the walls and corners of the house to spread his claim, and even refuses to nap or sleep with you while he is shifted. he’d sit in the doorway of the room you were in and remain in an alert state to protect you from whatever dangers that may appear, even though he’s already sure none are present. there was one time you were able to convince him to lay with you under the guise of you being cold; he allowed himself to curl around you and rest his snout on your chest, but the way his ears remained cocked let you know that he was wide awake even though his eyes were shut.

he’s thoroughly unamused whenever you try and get him to play with dog toys. it doesn’t matter if it squeaks, crinkles, or smells–he wants nothing to do with them. he can’t say no to an old-fashioned game of fetch, though. whenever you grab a stick from outside, you hear his thundering paws running towards you before skidding to a rapid stop, his haunches firmly touching the ground while his front paws anxiously tip tap in front of him, and his whole body shakes with anticipation for your throw. and from there you started to get him to appreciate tennis balls and frisbees in fetch games. even though his massive jaw and teeth have you ordering replacements way too often.

and the thought of his massive ears, eyes, hands, and teeth—led you to your halloween costume idea. 

little red riding hood.

it makes the most perfect amount of sense. carlos can be the big bad wolf to your red riding hood! except he refused, stating that it would be shameful to use his wolf in such a manner. of course, you're disappointed at his refusal, but you respect his boundaries at the end of the day. so, you were just going to have piñon (your dog) be your big bad wolf. and then, that fell through as well. 

piñon was staying over at carlos’ parents house a few days before halloween, and ended up losing a battle to a mouse that he tried to catch through a fence. the fence scratched him a little deeply on his tummy and he ended up getting stitches and a cone of shame. while his stitches are in, he’s staying with reyes and carlos sr.–and, you’re back to square one; you’re ‘big bad wolf’-less-ness.

you don’t attempt to try and convince carlos to join you again, you just decide to keep your original costume and sit out on the porch handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters, missing the other half to your costume. it’s very simple attire, just the red-hooded cloak and a picnic basket full of candy. carlos peeks from the front window’s curtains and watches you smile sweetly at all the children and compliment them on their costumes. he hears you fein terror when kids dressed as werewolves ask for candy, he hears you fawn over the cutest kids and their costumes, and he hears your happiness falter when anyone asks where your ‘big bad wolf’ is. 

you’re in the middle of explaining how piñon wasn’t feeling well to a little girl, and you hear a muffled bark. your head perks up in question, thinking you just imagined it, but then you hear scratches on the door. confused, you go to open the door and carlos comes slinking out to join you on the porch. 

his wolf is massive, when standing on four paws his head nearly reaches your chest, his coat is a silky coloration of a brown so dark it appears black, but in direct sunlight it radiates warmth. his paws are larger than your face and the claws he’s got on them are big enough to match. the little girl shrieks and hides behind her dad’s legs, and the dad backs them up off the porch frantically. 

���no, no, no,” you reassure them, and carlos tries to shrink his body behind your legs, whining lowly, “he’s friendly! i promise he’s a sweetheart, he’s actually pretty shy!” carlos skimpers behind you, quickly managing to shove himself under the outdoor couch, only allowing his head to peek out from underneath. the dad doesn’t quite believe you, and just apologizes and just ushers his daughter to the next house.

you sigh, and plop down a little forcefully on the couch. you hear carlos crawl from underneath the seat, and rise to a sitting position at your side, resting his snout on your lap. you look down and purse your lips at his wide, apologetic brown wolf eyes and raise your hand to give him a few pets. you question softly, “are you going to join me for the whole night?”

carlos blinks at you once. an eager grin spreads across your lips, “yay! aren’t you just such a good boy,” you tease sarcastically. carlos huffs, the force of his exhale swooshing your cloak, before he turns his back to you in dismissal. you laugh at him, and the next group of kids run up yelling for candy, and carlos tries to appear as small as he can so he doesn’t scare these ones away.

after the initial scare carlos caused, everyone seems fascinated at your “wolf-dog,” and how well mannered and amicable he is. carlos lets all the kids who are brave enough pet him, not snapping once even if they accidentally tug at his tail or ears, and sits incredibly still so he has no chance of accidentally crushing them. several dads even pause to give him a sturdy little dad-pat on his side, and inform you of how “that’s a good guard dog you got there, he takes a pat like no problem.” you even impress a few of the moms with how well trained you have him, and how he listens to all of your commands and can do many tricks (so far, the most impressive trick is having him harmonize to your voice with a howl). carlos preens silently next to you whenever little kids can’t help themselves from telling you how pretty you are (his tail thumping on the floor the only giveaway), and seethes when overzealous men and women try and hit on you (growls rumbling out of his chest). you brush off their advances and charmingly tell them, “i don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate me cheating on him…especially in front of his dog,” with a disguised smirk. overall, carlos does so well cosplaying as your big bad wolf, that you decide to give him the present you planned all along. 

after the halloween celebrations die down, you and carlos return inside, and you lead the way up to the bedroom as he trots behind you. carlos shifts back into his naked human form, and you giggle and pull him into a hug.

“thank you, my love! everyone loved you tonight–you know you didn’t have to join me outside, right? i didn’t want you to feel pressured to do something you were–” carlos cuts you off with a chaste kiss to the cheek and dismisses your worry, “mi luna, i wouldn’t have gone out there if i did not want to, sí? i am happy i could make the night more fun for you, by playing your “big bad wolf.’”

you pull away with a small ‘aha!’ of remembrance and rush into the en-suite bathroom, closing the door behind you. carlos stares at the space you were just occupying and shrugs, figuring you have to pee really badly–considering you were sitting on the porch the whole night without a break– and that you’re probably changing out of the costume, before turning to the closet and pulling on clothes. 

he hears the toilet flush, and then the water runs for a minute too long–almost like you’re covering up any noises carlos may hear with his enhanced hearing, but he doesn’t think that you’d have anything to hide from him, anyways. you fling the door open excitedly, still in your riding hood, and pull carlos away from the closet and start dragging him downstairs. 

“ay–” carlos objects, “i don’t have a shirt on yet, mi amor! where are you rushing too?”

you don’t respond verbally, only glancing back at him with a cheeky smirk, and continue to lead him to the backyard. you drop carlos hand once you’ve stepped outside, shutting the sliding glass door behind you two. walking back to him, you stand in front of him–pausing as you stare into the warm depth of his brown eyes, before you take one step backwards. carlos automatically goes to parrot your movement, attempting to take one step towards you to eliminate the space, but you ‘aht-aht’ at him disapprovingly causing him to freeze. you press your hand against his chest near his clavicle and guide him to his original position. patting once with intention, you order, “stay.”

carlos’ eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t say anything. he allows you to back away from him, twitching towards you when your bare feet slip off the paved patio onto the grass. you come to a stop when you’re halfway into the yard. 

carlos calls out to you, confused, “amor? what’s this, i do not want to play fetch right now–”

“we’re not going to play fetch carlos,” you start, “we’re going to play a new game called chase.” carlos does his adorable head tilt at you, continuing to question your actions, “qué? i don’t know the game you are talking about, mi luna–wh-what-qué haces (what are you doing)?”

you unbutton the collar of the cloak, and spread the front open, from where you wrapped it tightly around your body, and reveal a matching set of the scantiest, laciest, and most mouthwatering red bra and panties. carlos is stunned to silence, mouth dropping open as his eyes fall to your exposed body. the way your smooth melanated skin is complimented by the rosso corsa-colored lingerie, the way you’re holding open the cloak to allow him to get his fill of your body, the way your hips seductively rock from one side to the other, the way the smell of your arousal begins to become apparent to his sensitive nose–before you abruptly wrap the cloak shut, tying the waistband tightly and shattering the moment.

“we are going to play a game called ‘chase’, carlito. where i run into the woods behind us, and you���chase me.”

carlos’ entranced state is shaken by his protective instincts, “qué? no, no! absolutely not. the woods are dangerous, mi amor–”

“carlosss,” you whine, “you patrol the woods every other week! you know there’s nothing that could hurt me out here, because you’ve already gotten rid of it. you’re going to give chase and you’re going to like it!”

carlos shifts anxiously, not fully persuaded, so you decide to not give him a choice, “ten minutes, love. after that, come catch me.” you turn and run into the densely packed woods, ignoring carlos’ exclamation for you to stop. he doesn’t suddenly appear and stop your disappearance into the forest, so that’s how you know the game is on.

your chest is already heaving from adrenaline and excitement as you run through the forest, ducking under branches and hopping over rocks and fallen tree limbs. you pant and the nerves start to set in, not out of fear of what’s in the forest, but fear of giving carlos an easy chase. you stop suddenly and take a sharp turn, running for a minute that way before you circle back and run at a slight diagonal in the opposite direction, overlaying your scent to try and give some added time to your pursuit. running deeper into the woods, it begins to get darker, the only light source are the scraps of moonlight that manage to find a pocket to slip through. your eyes adjust to the reduced light level, pupils blown wide not only in necessity but also arousal, and you come to a halt again. you quickly slip off your red panties and hang them on the nearest branch, hoping that the wetness that’s already seeped into them distracts him from your true location. 

you start to traverse your way through an uphill part of the forest, exhaustion finally beginning to become apparent after that first rush of adrenaline–but then, a familiar howl cuts through the air; your time is up, and carlos is loose in the forest, hunting after you. reinvigorated, you continue running deeper and deeper into the trees, changing directions multiple times losing track of exactly where you’re going.

the wolf fucking losing it. you–his luna, his mate–are out in the forest he protects—his territory—inciting him into a relieving game of chase, allowing him to be just as uncontrolled as he wants in his pursuit of you. he’s quick to catch on your trail, seeing the way you’re rushed heavy steps in the start leaves an easy path for him to follow. and then, he notices you employed different tactics to delay him. he catches himself running in circles you intentionally plotted, and notices how your scent and foot-trail overlaps multiple times. and then, he can tell you switched from running with the full bottom of your foot and just on your toes for a moment to disrupt your trail. his breaths have started to mirror yours, forceful with the adrenaline from a good chase, and he freezes. he smells you.

he speeds up to a full run, paws thundering against the earth under him, loud and uncaring if you hear him coming or not, before he bursts through the trees where your scent is the strongest. but, you’re not there. the wolf whines disbelievingly, bringing his nose to the floor to analyze your scent trail before a glimpse of red catches his attention from the corner of his eye. he spins around swiftly, expecting it to be the swish of your cloak as you run from, but it’s not you.

it’s the damn red panties you kindly left behind for him. 

he rocks up on his hind legs to knock it off the branch to the ground, and presses his muzzle to the barely there fabric, inhaling your arousal deeply. an unhinged growl tumbles his way out of his chest, before it morphs into another full howl, letting you know how much he appreciates your present. carlos won’t be fooled by any more of your tricks again, and he takes off running.

you’ve taken a brief break from running, leaning forward with your hand against your knees as you catch your breath. it’s loud around you; bugs are buzzing and you can hear the hoots of several owls echoing through the forest. suddenly, it goes completely silent, quicker than a drop of a pin. you slam your mouth shut, quieting your inhales, and you slowly shift your stance into a running position, trying to use your hearing to tell what direction the wolf is coming from. you hear the rustle of a tree on your right, and you make to leap away into a run–but it’s too late. 

you’re caught, large hands around your waist and a leg sweeps your own out from underneath you and takes you to the ground. a scream of surprise escapes from your chest but is cut off with a heavy hand laying over your mouth.

carlos is looming over you, kneeled in between your legs, bare as the day he was born, chest heaving, and pupils wide from the thrill and pleasure of a successful hunt. “caught you. i could hear your little heart racing in your chest.” he boasts.

carlos removes his hand only to replace it with his lips, and the passion he bathes your lips with fragments your mind. you can only part your lips and let him ruin you as he pleases. his plump lips suckle on yours before his tongue begins an eager exploration of your mouth–a desperate moan falls from his lips into yours. one of his hands comes to grasp at the curls on your head, tilting you for a better angle; and you raise one of yours to grasp at his shoulder for stability, but carlos startles away. an animalistic growl rumbles through his chest in dissent, and he grabs both of your wrists in one of his hands, and pins them above your head. 

you’re at a loss for words, unsure if you want to moan or plead to suck his dick, but carlos doesn’t give you a chance to decide. 

he allows himself one last soul-sucking kiss, before he presses nips into your cheeks and jaw, leading towards your neck. carlos buries his nose deeply into the spot where your jaw meets your neck, and takes an excessive inhale of your scent. dios mio. the way you smell. delectable and rich soaked with lust and the dregs of fear still clinging in the surroundings. he gets to smell this for the rest of his life. another growl erupts possessively, and you can only moan depravedly at the sound.

carlos continues to lavish kisses on his way down your body, bruising them into your skin before soothing over with a pass of his tongue. the hand in your hair releases, coming down to allow him to grasp at your chest, brushing over your nipples in a quick motion; the lace scrapes against them and the feeling is paralyzing. he tugs the rossi corsa bra underneath your breasts, and they spill out over the top in a manner so obscene it forces another moan out of carlos. he ducks his head again, to tease at your nipples with his tongue, alternating between flicking and sucking at them randomly. he ignores your hips are rolling up, attempting to get some friction, and your hands in his wrists flexing and tugging to escape. 

he frees your nipples from the assault of his lips, and starts sucking hickeys into your underboob with a pleased hum. the change in sensation and slight ache, has another scream bursting from your chest, it’s too much.

“c-c-carlos, c’mon! please, please—oh!” cutting yourself off with a gasp, as carlos abruptly pulls away, his large hand releasing your wrists,  to scooch down and bully your legs open with a free hand and shoves his broad tanned shoulders between your thighs. 

you’re dripping everywhere. the tops of your inner thighs are smeared with stickiness and you’ve created a wet spot on the cloak underneath you. a growl fully spills from carlos’ chest, shaking the air around you and causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. he is an apex predator, you should at least be slightly terrified, but all you do is moan in response, more arousal leaking from you, and you start begging.

“carlos!p-please touch me! lobo mió—please, dont you wanna taste me? i want you to eat me,” you sob, “eat me out! you h-h-hunted me, take what you want!”

carlos laughs sharply at your obscenity, “oh? mi luna, you’re so bad, aren’t you? you should be scared of having my teeth so close to your pretty pussy, but here you are: begging, leaking, and your little hole winking and clenching at me, sí?”

you quickly agree, “yesyesyes, for you, for you, always. please carlos,” one of your hands flies down to grip at his hair and try and tug his mouth onto you. carlos snaps his teeth at you, and you quickly pull your hand away from his head, leaving it hovering in the air.

carlos growls, “don’t rush me, mi luna, i always take care of you, no?” you hum in agreement, both of your hands falling to your sides and gripping the grass next to you in anticipation.

carlos dips his head and swipes his tongue gently at your left inner thigh, and groans deeply. it’s your scent liquified; he licks his lips and smacks his mouth, savoring your slick. after that one sample he can’t help himself, he loses himself and makes it his personal mission to clean up every last drop of you that spilled. carlos’ mouth is sloppy, and he’s uncaring of how your thighs begin to shake in oversensitivity from the way his beard is scratching your thighs up, red lines appearing faintly on your brown skin. you start squirming away from his mouth, and carlos huffs, annoyed. 

his hands switch to gripping the underside of your thighs, and he pushes them upwards near your chest, and commands, “stop moving, mi amor, or i’ll stop completely.” you moan a soft breathy okay, and your moan pitches into a sharp gasp. carlos runs his nose up your cunt parting the lips, more wetness spreading, before he pauses at your clit; and deeply inhales your scent from where it’s the richest. you cry, half bewildered and half humiliated, at your boyfriend eagerly sniffing at your warmth.

carlos rumbles out, “mierda, mi luna. mmm, so sweet—i cannot wait. i have to get in you, sí?” carlos doesn’t wait for a response and presses two fingers inside you. a cry escapes you at the sudden stretch, but your scent doesn’t sour with pain—carlos continues. he rushes through stretching you; his fingers scissoring you open methodically, consciously avoiding your g-spot. the squelching noises coming from your cunt, has tears gathering in your eyes in embarrassment, even though it’s fairly clear that carlos enjoys it. 

his fingers slide out a minute later, and that same hand reaches for his dick to begin spreading your wetness over it. carlos hisses, and with a clenched jaw, he asks, “mi amor—estas lista (are you ready)?” his body is now vibrating with the force he’s holding himself back with, waiting for your approval. 

your hands release the earth, blades of grass you ripped out of the ground falling from between your fingers, and motion carlos to come closer and lean over you, dwarfing your body completely, “yeah, lobo mio, fuck me.”

carlos whimpers, head falling to rest in your neck. his hand grasps tighter at the underside of your left thigh—a bruise forming already—and pushes it firmly to your chest, your right leg bends slightly and you press your knee to his hip, urging him forward.

carlos guides the head of his cock with a trembling hand to your cunt, and gently presses in. you sharply inhale, holding your breath, until the head pops in fully, causing both you and carlos to moan in pleasure. carlos continues sinking deeper within you as controlled and slowly as he can, not wanting to cause you any discomfort. however, you’re completely gone already. eyes shut in bliss, mouth open, drool already leaking from the corner of your lips. carlos lifts his head to read your expression, and smirks, you’re so easy for him. 

he bottoms out, feeling how your walls squeeze him tightly, and flutter in desperation, like they can’t quite accommodate to his size. carlos waits patiently, chest heaving again from the strain of not taking you, and watches how you squirm underneath him, not knowing if you want to squirm away or closer. you adjust to his presence a handful of seconds later, and grind your hips up to feel the delicious drag of his dick inside of you. carlos’ eyes widen and a shocked groan escapes him before he rolls his own hips down to meet you. 

carlos sets a quick pace from the beginning, he can’t be bothered with building up his speed slowly—he has a claim to lay on you; and to any other being in this forest who can smell how alluring you are, you’re his mate.

moans are being punched out of your chest with every one of his thrusts, harmonizing with his matching grunts of effort. your back is sliding against the grassy floor, and your shoved up with every one of his deep thrusts, and you sink your nails into his back in pleasure, and carlos growls into your ear at the feeling. 

you manage to find words to praise your wolf, “s-so deep in me, carlos—yeahyeahyeah, deeper, baby, please—ah! faster, carlos, faster—“ and carlos does his best to fulfill your wishes; his mouth rests right next to your ear; his panting breaths, and moans only making you squeeze around him tighter.

he soon tires of your orders; he’s not doing his best if he hasn’t fucked the words out of you. carlos suddenly pulls out of you, and you cry out angrily with a furrowed brow, “no, carlos! don’t stop, what are you—“ and with a rough commanding tone, he interrupts you, “stop whining.” your mouth slams shut, the sound of your teeth clacking together mortifyingly loud, your eyes wide with shock.

carlos softens, patting at your hip gently to reassure you that he’s not angry. he then flips you over (cloak spread on the ground underneath you), up on your elbows and knees, and makes to mount you properly—like the wolf he really is. the air is thick, and with your back turned to him in such a vulnerable manner, adrenaline rushes through you again. carlos laughs down demeaningly at you, as your scent thickens even more with lust and smidge of fear. 

rattled at his amusement, you try to push up onto your hands and knees, but carlos automatically pushes you back down, with a heavy, hot and veiny hand scruffing you at the base of your neck. you moan out highly, as carlos forces you back down to your elbows. he releases your neck and smooths his hand down to the small of your back to deepen your arch just the way he wants, and to pull your hips up to match.

all he says is, “now, you stay, just like that—and be a pretty hole for me.”

carlos bullies his dick back inside you, and doesn’t allow you any time to adjust in the this new position. he roughly pounds into you, now only caring about getting his release—he’ll make you cum after he’s thoroughly enjoyed his prize for hunting you down.

carlos’ grunts are animalistic, and his thrusts are too fast for you to try and buck back against him to match his rhythm; all you can do is sit pretty and take what he gives you—just like he said. you can only ramble out four words in between your moans; ‘carlos,’ ‘full,’ and ‘too deep.’ carlos rumbles approvingly at your chanting this time around, and pulls your hips back even closer to dig as deep as he can, uncaring of how you're trying to run from his thrusts.  

your start babbling at the constant pressure and drag against your g-spot, he’s so deep, in this position, hitting areas he can only reach and causes your legs to give out. carlos’ hips don’t falter, as he catches you pulling you back up with a hand around your navel. and then his hips stutter in shock with a crude moan. he grabs one of your hands, causing you to fall flat on your face, head turned to the side with your cheek pressed to the cool red cloak—and guides it to your stomach and holds it there.

carlos resumes thrusting, and preens, “mmm, can you feel that, mi amor? i’m fucking you so deep—ah—you can feel it through your skin.” you can feel it, and the pressure from carlos pressing your hand on his own dick from outside of your body, has your eyes rolling back and tears streaming down your face. your legs go limp again, but carlos isn’t fazed; he continues to hold your body up for you. “so good for me,” carlos rambles, “mio luna—my mate.”

abruptly, you feel it. the press of his knot against you, and in a sudden moment of clarity, you start to beg. 

“—los! kn-knot, please! ‘arlos, breed—ahahah—breed me deep and full—oh!”

carlos gnashes his teeth, growling savagely, before he leans down and forcefully bites down at the back of your neck—not enough to break skin, but enough to remind you of his teeth for a few days. you shudder, air stolen from your lungs, and you have no choice but to cum. 

carlos feels the way your pussy flutters around him, failing to push him out with your release flooding your thighs, and how it continues to drag him deeper within you in a hypnotizing motion to milk him dry. carlos struggles to thrust once, twice, thrice more times with how tightly your cunt is gripping him and shoves his cock as deep in you as possible without allowing his knot to slip in, filling you up nice and good—breeding you just like you wanted. 

carlos rocks you two both through the aftershocks, ensuring his cum coats your insides thoroughly, only slowing to a stop when your combined release starts frothing at where the two of you are joined, and your hips start squirming away from him. he guides you back, sitting you on his lap, keeping himself inside you, as he rotates you to face him.

your makeup is ruined. mascara and eyeliner staining your cheeks with the tracks of your tears, red lipstick smudged on your brown skin, eyes wide and still glassy with moisture. carlos swipes his thumb around your lips, fading the smudges as best as he can. 

you smile softly, and ask with a light tone, “wasn’t that fun, mi lobo?”

carlos can only laugh softly, and nod, “yes—i did not know that you would enjoy being bred on the forest floor that much.”

your cheeks flush again after they began to cool, and you smack carlos shoulder in embarrassment. your brow furrows, and your mouth drops into a pout, “why didn’t you knot me?”

carlos raises an eyebrow at you teasingly, “ah, sí! you were begging for it like whore—“

“carlos!”

“i’m joking, i’m joking, mi luna! of course you were begging, more like a slut for my knot than a bitch in h—“

“dios mio, carlos! your fucking mouth after you cum—jesus christ!”

he can only laugh harder, extra pleased at how he gets you to fluster so easily, even after he just railed you in the middle of the forest.

“ay, mi amor—i’ll stop, im sorry,” he starts still grinning cockily, “pero, i did not give you the knot you begged for so sweetly, because my rut is in three days, sí? and i can’t afford to bruise your pretty pussy with my hefty knot before then, no?”

you balk. carlos’s semi-annual rut is a force of its own, you're practically out of commission for a week after it, unable to close your legs from how raw it leaves you. his knot bruises your insides every time you take it, so he definitely made the smart decision by not folding to your cries of desperation.

the scent of the two of you's satisfaction permeates the air, intertwining with the smell of sex, and carlos can only lean forward to mouth at your neck to taste how well he took care of you tonight. 

“mmm,” carlos hums, “now—do you want me to carry you back to our den so i can finally get my mouth on you and clean you up, or do you want me to make another mess of you right here, mi luna?”

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhajj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez

© httpsserene 2023

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

The Anomaly || JJK

Chapter 7: The Shibuya Incident

summary : In which you're isekai'd from your (own) parallel Jujutsu Kaisen universe to the canon universe.

wordcount : 2.5k

Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader, eventually Character x Reader (idk who yet tho)

Masterlist | Next

[ Parallel Jujutsu Kaisen Universe ]

" Where are you even going at this hour? "

Sukuna glances up. He'd left the door to his room open, for no particular reason. 

Meanwhile, Megumi glances at the many cursed tools he's got spread out over his desk and bed. 

" M' gonna find the little shit. "

Megumi raises an unimpressed brow. 

" You've been looking for her for a while now. It's futile. "

Sukuna had expected the reaction. Especially from Megumi. Yuuji would've asked him to join, but he wasn't putting his 5 minute younger brother in danger like that. 

" Then I suppose I'm going for an evening stroll. Does that suit your taste better? "

Megumi blinks in annoyance. This is why he didn't get along well with Sukuna. He was stubborn, much like you. Megumi sighs, thinking for a moment before shaking his head. 

" Should I wake Yuuji and Nobara to join us? "

Sukuna glances at him in question. 

" That curse beat Y/N. And she's not weak. None of us have a change of beating this spirit alone. "

Sukuna and Megumi have a similar issue. They have a sincere issue in showing vulnerable emotions. This is probably the most sentimental they'd ever get with one another, and if you were here, you would be proud of them. 

Either way, Sukuna shakes his head. 

" We've beat cursed spirits in pairs before. The two of us will do. "

- 

Megumi doubts the two of them will do.

His eyes are wide, focused on the spirit in front of them. He's not sure if they found it or if it found them. 

" Heheheh. How cute. Two little Jujutsu students. " 

The spirit is laughing, mocking them as it looks down at them from their elevated position. 

Megumi's eyes widen, noting it's cursed energy. It was heavy, powerful. Megumi doubts this is a good idea.

" We should run." 

Of course, his pleas fall on deaf ears.

Sukuna is smirking at the spirit, his eyes wide in a kind of rage that even shakes Megumi. He knows Sukuna was a force to be reckoned with. Sukuna's heavenly pact made him one of the most powerful people around, even without cursed energy. With Y/N, he was unstoppable. 

" Where's the little shit?"

The curse raises a brow. ( Is it even a brow?), before catching on, its lips (are those even lips?), pulling into a grin.

" Ah, you mean that cute little girl?"

Something flashes in Sukuna's eyes. His hand reaching for his most powerful weapons. 

" What did you do to her?"

It's Megumi who asks, ready to summon Nue while Sukuna clicks the Chain of a Thousand Miles and Inverted Spear of Heaven together. 

The curse's eyes flash over the special grade cursed weapon. It knew it could exorcise it.

It knew it needed to avoid that from happening.

Nonetheless, it keeps up it's act, pretending to be as confident as before.

It crouches down, leaning its head on the palm of its hand as it looks at them.

" I sent her away. You won't be able to find her." 

Megumi's eyes narrow, before widening, realizing it's cursed technique.

" Rabbit escape!" 

As the shadows create a large amount of rabbits, Megumi grabs Sukuna by his collar  avoiding him from attacking. Sukuna is surprised. Annoyed too, but he trusts his classmate.

Soon enough, they're hidden away from it's view.

" It can teleport." 

" What?"

" It cursed technique must be some kind of teleportation. And it's range must be huge, considering we can't find Y/N anywhere. We can't exorcise it. We have to capture it." 

-

[ Canon Jujutsu Kaisen Universe ]

" So we're just meant to wait here?"

Takuma is the one asking the question you're all wondering.

Nanami nods.

" Yes. Our job is to exorcise a spirit if he misses it."

" That sounds awfully boring." 

" We could help him. It's a group of special grades right?"

You try your luck. You never know how it will end up after all. That feeling of unease still in your stumic.

Takuma grins at you.

" Ah right, you're from a completely different universe right? You don't need to worry. Our Gojo sensei is the strongest!"

He's beaming, yet you don't share the sentiment.

" That shouldn't mean that he has to carry that burden alone."

Nanami's eyes widen at your words, studying your expression. Nanami has met a lot of people. He's never heard anyone say words like those.

" Is your Gojo the strongest as well?"

You nod.

" Yes. He's quite the same. "

" Ooeh, what about me? Have we met in your universe?"

Takuma can't help himself, curious about where you're from.

" Yeah. We've done a mission together actually. " 

Takuma remains excited, asking you multiple questions about your own universe. You answer them as best as you can. After a moment, it falls silent again.

" Hey Megumi, where's Nobara and Yuuji? I thought they'd be with us."

He shakes his head at your question.

" Yuuji is on Mei's team.-"

His eyes glance towards Nanami subtly, like he wants to add something. He seems to decide against it, continuing.

" And Nobara is with Maki on team Zen'In."

You pout.

" There's a girl team and I'm not even invited?"

" Ah, don't worry Kamo! We're fun too!"

" Besides, you should be glad. They've got Zen'In's old man on the team. Do you have him in your universe?"

You nod.

" I think so. Never spoke to him though."

" You should be glad. He looks down on women. Maki hates him. I'm sure Nobara hates him too by now."

While the three of you had been conversing, Nanami checks his phone, subtly catching all of your attention.

" The transfigured humans who were waiting inside the building are now attacking non-sorcerers. Which is why we're ending standby and moving in." 

Soon enough he's stepping forward, shrugging his shoulders off. He lays his jacket over his arm neatly.

You wonder where he'll leave it.

" We may be acting against orders, but if we wait any longer,  it might be too late."

He sighs.

" This, my other concern is-"

Both Takuma and Megumi take his words right out of his mouth, while you listen patiently.

" The other-"

" The other veil that keeps sorcerers outside, correct?"

Takuma glances at Megumi in surprise, animatedly moving behind the two of them as they converse.

" Why deploy the veil now that Gojo sensei is inside?"

" Either something has happened inside, or they were waiting for this moment as part of their strategy. What I can say for certain is that they wouldn't move without a plan. Y/N and I focus on the enemies who lowered the veil. You two do your best to rescue civilians." 

All three of you nod in understanding.

And soon enough, all three of you enter the veil.

You wonder if the other teams were doing the same.

You're nervous.

You have no choice but to fight the disfigured humans now.

However, just as your team stepped a few ways in-

" Nanamin!"

Was that?-

" Nanamin, are you here?!"

That must be-

" Gojo sensei has been sealed!"

You lock gazes with Megumi, confirming your suspicious. This was, without a doubt, Itadori Yuuji.

Everyone's eyes widen.

" You three, change of plans. "

He turns around.

" We must join forces with Itadori at once. If he has indeed been sealed, it could spell the end for every human in this country."

Yuuji continues calling for Nanami like a child calling for his dad while you make your way over. 

In fact, he doesn't stop even when you're right behind him, until-

" Oi!"

Megumi has to hit him in order to get him out of his his trance.

" Ohh- Fushiguro, Y/N, Nanamin. And... who?"

Eventually, Yuuji ends up explaining what has gone down while the four of you were outside. Or rather- Mechamaru explains.

Apparently he's been carrying him around like an earpiece.

You follow his story, yet you can't help but notice the folded black and white fluff to your left. Wordlessly, you take a few steps towards the cat, and pet it.

It purrs in response. Megumi watches what you're doing, but no one comments on it.

" Geto did it?"

" The thing that's acting as Geto Suguru, to be precise. Shibuya is overrun with curses right now. It's overrun by special grades, weaker curses, and curse users who follow Geto, as well as transfigured humans and civilians. "

" Then attacking through the subway from neighboring stations does make sense. But in order to do that, we need that veil lifted."

" This is an emergency. We'll have to multitask."

You can see Nanami thinking as you get up from where you were petting the cat, which has now run off. Unbeknownst to you, he wanted to keep an eye on you. He couldn't allow you to die, sorcerer or not. This was not your universe. Who knows what would happen to your own if you were to die here. 

However, now that things have gotten more dangerous, he needs to be able to work without distracting himself. Gojo told him about your skills. You were nowhere near weak. You weren't the strongest either. Gojo also commented on Megumi's fondness of you. You'd be safe with your classmates.

" Some requests can only be submitted by a first grade sorcerer. I'll step outside and take care of those with Ijichi. In the mean time, I want you four to do something about the veil that's keeping the sorcerers out.-" 

He informs everyone, while walking past you. Finally, he turns to Takuma. He's seated on the ledge of the building, the cat you had previously been petting now curled into a rice ball next to him, enjoying his attention.

" Kusakabe and honorary first grade Zen'In should be inside the veil as well. If you meet them, please explain the situation  and request for their assistance. Though that shouting earlier might've done the job."

Takuma nods in understanding, his expression serious as he takes in every word. He must look ul to Nanami to react like that.

" And lastly, I'm leaving these three in your care."

And then Nanami is gone. He's disappeared through the door on the rooftop.

Takuma is quiet for a moment.

" Ino?" 

Yuuji checks.

" You guys! Before we start the mission, let me explain how serious the situation is. Starting with the two main issues with losing Gojo sensei. First! The fall of the Gojo clan. The Gojo clan is a one man team of himself. His whims and influences have saved many sorcerers.- Itadori, Kamo, you're one of them, correct?"

You nod.

" That's right!"

Yuuji looks silly as he confirms.

Takuma doesn't appreciate that.

" Take this seriously! All of those people are gonna find themselves in trouble, or worse, executed.-"

You swallow.

Why was the Jujutsu world so mean?

" The second issue is the collapse of the power balance. Those who have remained in the shadows because of Gojo will make their move.- If society is over disarray over the first, and the second will start a war, we will lose. That's how Nanami and I see it. And what do you think happens if we lose?"

Megumi looks nearly bored as he replies.

" At the very least, the age of humans in Japan would be over."

Takuma grins at him, tugging at his beanie/mask.

" I see you get the idea. Let's get going! By the time Nanami gets back, that veil will be destroyed!"

Takuma is visibly motivated, slapping a shoulder of each of you in encouragement as he walks past you.

" Let's save Gojo Satoru!"

-

[ Parallel Jujutsu Kaisen Universe ]

The two of them, were, in fact, not enough.

Sukuna finds himself wishing you were here so you'd summon that pretty blade which was as light as a feather. He could swear the sword you kept with you was simply more powerful than whatever he has in his hands now.

He hisses as he lands on top of a building harshly. From the corner of his eye, he sees Megumi do the same. The spirit was much stronger than they had initially thought. However, both refuse to give up, and soon enough, they're charging against the spirit at the same time.

The plan was originally simple enough. 

Get the Chain of a Thousand Miles wrapped around it, and force it to Jujutsu Tech.

The plan was still running anything but smoothly though.

" Two against one? That's hardly fair." 

It's mocking them though, charging up a white ball and throwing it right at Megumi. Both boys' their eyes widen. It had been physical, close up combat up until now.

It's too quick, and Megumi has no time to avoid. Sukuna throws his Chain his way, and Megumi is close to grasping it- when the white ball hits him

 First, it's a regular explosion at a decent size, nothing that would permanently put Megumi on the sidelines of their battle.

Then a huge soundwave follows, sending both Megumi and Sukuna in opposite directions.

Sukuna is quick to get back on his feet. He doesn't doubt that Megumi is too, unless he had landed harshly into a building. ( In which case he'll have to suck it up and get over it- Sukuna needs him.)

The spirit raises it's brow at him.

" You've got no cursed energy."

Sukuna scoffs, grinning.

" Yet I can still beat your ass." 

The curse grins in response. It opens it's mouth to say something, but Sukuna is done with his shit. Mercilessly, he throws the Chain skillfully his way. The curse had been stupid, probably underestimating him as it had gotten closer.

Now, Sukuna tugs it closer, bringing them face to face with one another.

" Last chance before I hand you to Gojo sensei. Where. Is. Y/N?"

The curse's eyes, which were originally wide, turn into smiling crescents.

" Why don't you find out?"

It's smiling, happy.

Suddenly, a golden ring appears below him. Sukuna's brow furrows.

And then he's falling.

He makes a mistake, holding the end of the Chain in front of him. 

Giving the curse a window to escape.

Of course it does.

And then he's falling again.

Eventually, he hits his face flat to the ground.

" Fuck's sake-" 

As he gets up, he wipes a hand over his nose. It's bleeding. He scoffs in annoyance.

He looks up, studying his surroundings. 

Wait- 

Why was he in Shibuya?

Now more annoyed than before, he huffs, finally getting up and grumbling to himself in annoyance. 

He turns to leave, intending to take the bus back to Jujutsu Tech.

However, he walks straight into...something?

He furrows his brows in confusion, glancing up, he only notices how dark the sky is now.

A veil.

Why was there a veil in Shibuya?

The Anomaly Taglist:

@luxylucylou @kalulakunundrum @strxbxrrylover @aethersslave @jenniferrvsesi @hanatsuki-hime

[host-club-hq]

heyyy !!! can i submit a request ? thanks !!! feel free to reject/deny this if u want to tho !!!

reader who’s from a middle to upper middle range family and they’re like in their 20’s or so and they just seem to have a lot of time and money on their hands but their family doesn’t know what they exactly do in terms of work so they confront her and ask if they’re doing drugs or nsfw work and turns out they have a bf (kyoya) who’s just really rich

thanks !!! 🫶

➼ pairing: kyoya ootori x fem!reader (slice of life!AU)

➼ summary: you come from a middle class family and all of a sudden you’ve been spending considerably large amounts of money… and your family is wondering what exactly it is you do for a living nowadays? are you in with the wrong sort of people?

➼ word count: 2.7k

➼ what to expect: "It's worth nothing if you aren't wearing it."

➼ warnings: none :) unless an excessive amount of fluff causes you to have severe heart issues (me too babe)

➼ i literally saw this request and was like oh my god i have to write it, then since i wasn't at my laptop, proceeded to write the fic in my beta reader's dms. thank u so much for this request it actually helped me get out of a writing rut :)

You never thought you would be sitting in your apartment for a living.

Well, technically, that's not what you do for a living, but it might as well be.

You work from home, with extremely short hours and a paycheck that's nothing to write home about. You could do your job from an office, but why bother? Most of the 8 hours you would work, you'd be sitting at your desk with nothing to do, your brain going numb from lack of stimulation.

Although you don't enjoy having virtual meetings with strangers, that's basically your entire job — you are a virtual history tutor, after all.

You never wanted to be a teacher but you still wanted to pass your extensive knowledge on to other generations, so you figured either being a substitute teacher or a tutor would suffice. And when the school you applied to mentioned an online tutor position, you snatched it up and ran with it.

Of course, you had a job before this. And it definitely wasn't your dream job. Before your passion for teaching arose, you took one of the first jobs you found available that called you for an interview. The secretary of a prestigious CEO of... a company that you're not quite sure what they did (you called it your Devil Wears Prada moment). You vaguely remember copying data and putting things in color-coded folders, but the position was brutal. You were set with impossible tasks and goals that your immediate superiors struggled to reach (truly, your Devil Wears Prada moment). You contemplated swerving your car into oncoming traffic every day on your way to work at 6:30 in the morning (obviously you didn't, too many innocent lives would have been put in danger).

But, at least, that's where you met-

Knock, knock, knock-knock-knock... knock, knock

Your ears immediately perk up and you turn your head toward the front door from your position on the sofa in the living room. There's only one soul alive that would knock on your door in that fashion.

You shut your laptop rather hastily and leap up to answer the door, sliding through the kitchen and the entry foyer in your socks to get there. Honestly, the distance from the front door to your workspace could have been considered a 5k marathon (no it's not, you're just out of shape).

You don't even have to glance at the peephole before you open the door to reveal-

"y/n! Oh, my dear, how are you?" You're immediately pulled into a crushing embrace and a comforting scent surrounds you.

"Mom?" You gawk, slowly encircling your arms around her to return the hug.

"I know I probably should have called but when I thought about doing it, I was already at your door. And I have to say, this is quite the upgrade!" Your mother wanders in without an invite, in awe of the clean, neat appearance of your apartment.

Well, penthouse. You take up the entire 58th floor at the top of your building. The elevator requires a reading of your house key-card to even press the button. It opens up right in front of your door.

... how did she get up here?

"How on earth did you get up here?" You voice your thoughts as her mother discards her walking shoes beside your own, slipping on a pair of guest slippers.

"I told the man in the lobby I was your mother and you would not believe the convincing I had to do to get him to let me up. He even needed my ID!"

"Well, yeah, because you don't live here-"

"Would you look at this place! My god, y/n, how do you keep it so clean? Not a speck of dust!" Your mother, true to her nature, swipes a finger across a nearby decorative table and it comes up absolutely spotless.

"Thanks, I mean it's not-"

"You even have a foyer! And a kitchen that doesn't double as the dining room!" Your mother wanders into the next room faster than you can process her presence.

"Mom, what are-" You try to best to follow her, slipping and sliding over the wooden floors in your fluffy socks.

"Really, y/n, I never pegged you to like modern furniture! I thought you liked a little character in your possessions. But, I must say, it's much better than I imagined your living situation to be." She strolls into the living room next, gawking at the mere size.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" You frown, relieved that she seems to have finally picked a room to settle in. She sets her enormous bag on the sofa.

"What are you even doing here? Not that I don't appreciate the surprise visit..." You save quickly, smiling sheepishly at the glare she briefly sends your way.

"I wanted to see you of course. But..." She digs through her purse and pulls out a Macbook. "I came for an explanation for this." She all but waves it around. You wince.

"Careful. Why do you need an explanation for that? You mentioned you needed a better laptop and your birthday was coming up so I thought-"

"Exactly! It's perfect, it's everything I could have ever dreamed of in a laptop!" Your mother scolds. You tilt your head.

"... is that a problem?" You blink owlishly.

"First it was the watch for your father's birthday, then the mountain of stuffed animals for your little sister for Christmas, and now this!" Your mother sighs, crossing her arms after setting the Macbook on the coffee table.

"Wha- I'm sorry, I think I'm missing what the fuss is about. I tell you guys to send me your lists and you never do, so I'm sorry if it's not what you wanted-"

"It is what we wanted, that's why I'm here!" She retaliates.

"Okay, Mom, you're going to have to calm down and tell me what the problem is because I am clearly missing something here." You lead her to the coffee table, where you both lower yourselves to the floor, cross your legs, and sit beneath it.

She takes a deep, calming breath, "I'm just concerned is all. Your last job was enough for you to live and have a fair amount of money to spare, but you don't even work there anymore." Your mother places both hands on the table, avoiding your eye.

"You're right, I don't work for them anymore." You quirk a brow, curious as to where this is going.

"And now you're an online tutor who barely works more than a few hours per day, sometimes a week! So... I'm just curious..." She sighs, shaking her head.

"How are you getting the money for all of this? This is a multimillion dollar penthouse, you sent your father a 7,000 dollar watch, and you sent me a laptop worth at least a few thousand dollars." Your mother finally meets your eyes.

Before you can respond, she reaches across the table and grabs you by the shoulders.

"Just tell me the truth. Are you selling drugs? Are you stripping? Are you doing drugs? Because whatever it is, I'm sure I can talk my way into gaining your innocence in a courtroom but you have to come clean-"

"Mom! I'm not doing anything illegal!" You exclaim adamantly, shrugging her grip off your shoulders.

"Are you in credit card debt? Your father warned you about things like this, and I always thought you were a modest spender but-"

"Mom, listen to me, okay? I'm not in debt. I'm not stripping. I'm not doing drugs." You take both of her hands in yours and speak calmly. She nods, still looking a little confused.

"Then how are you getting all of the money for this?" She asks.

You chew your lip, "Well... it's not really my money-"

Just as you begin your explanation, the front door opens and shuts loudly, the sound of dress shoes click loudly against the wooden floors.

"Honey, there's someone in your house." Your mom steadies herself, reaching for her purse like she's got some sort of weapon.

"Mom? Mom!" You hiss quietly as she starts to get up.

"I'm home, darling! Are you in the living room?"

Your mother blinks at the voice calling from the foyer.

"Yeah, I'm in here!" You reply in a trembling voice, your brain trying to decide whether or not you should greet your boyfriend or calm your mother first.

Before either of you can open your mouths again, the body attached to the voice calling for you appears in the doorway.

Kyoya sheds his blazer, leaving him clad in his button up shirt tucked into his dress pants as he tosses it onto the coat rack beside him.

"I was- oh." Kyoya finally looks up, meeting your eyes first, then the worried, albeit confused, eyes of your mother.

"I'm sorry, I hope I wasn't interrupting anything." Kyoya bows politely at the presence of someone unfamiliar to him.

Your mother's instincts cause her to return the bow where she's sitting, still completely lost.

"You're not, darling." You get up from your place at the table to greet him.

Kyoya welcomes you eagerly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, bewildering your mother further, before making eye contact with her again.

"This must be your mother. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. l/n. I've heard so much about you." Kyoya bows once more, a bit more deeply.

Your mother blinks, eyes glancing between you and Kyoya with haste.

"Mom, this is Kyoya Ootori... my boyfriend." You allow Kyoya to place a respectful arm around your back.

"Your what?" She blurts. You grimace. You knew you'd have to tell her sooner or later, but most of your high school boyfriends were intimidated by her and her doting nature.

And the fact that your father threatened to end their lives if they ever laid a finger on you.

"My boyfriend..." You sigh, almost like a scolded child.

"Ah, that reminds me. A flower for you, my dear." Kyoya sets down the shopping bag he was holding and his briefcase, handing you a rose.

"Oh, it's so pretty. Thank you." You'd rather Kyoya brought you individual flowers than an expensive bouquet since you're god-awful at keeping them alive. You peck his cheek.

"Oh, and before I forget. I saw this in a store window on my way home and I couldn't help but imagine how well it would paired with that black dress you know I like so much. I thought you could wear it to dinner." Kyoya pulls out a large, black velvet box from the shopping bag and turns toward you.

"Kyoya, we've talked about this-"

"I know. You don't like when I spend money on you but I just couldn't help myself." He opens the box to reveal a necklace glittering with diamonds, more than you can count. It glimmers in the light and you're afraid to even touch it, let alone wear it.

"Oh, my god, this must have cost a fortune." Your jaw goes slack. Your mother nosily peers over your shoulder and gasps loudly.

"It's worth nothing if you aren't wearing it." Kyoya smiles. A pretty pink hue dusts your cheeks at the compliment as your heart flutters.

"Thank you, my love. It's breathtaking." You gently take the box from him so he can gather his own things.

"Would your mother like to join us for dinner? I'm sure they won't mind moving us to a different table." Kyoya inquires innocently.

Your mother in question is still completely baffled by all of this.

"So... so you're dating my daughter? And... you're rich?" Your mother blurts.

"Mom!" You scold.

Kyoya chuckles, "I'm under the impression you hadn't been told about me. My apologies."

"Kyoya!" You scold him next.

"And... and this is... your house?" Your mother gestures to your surroundings.

"Yes, ma'am." Kyoya nods affirmatively.

"I moved in about... I want to say two months ago or so." You shrug. Kyoya nods.

"And how long have you been dating exactly?" She quirks a brow.

You nearly cringe at your answer, "... a year."

"A YEAR?" Your mother all but shrieks, earning a wince from you.

"Mom, it's not a big deal-" You reach for her to calm her down.

"It is a big deal! You've been seeing this gorgeous man with a mansion behind my back!" She gestures wildly to Kyoya, who blinks at her, brows raised at her reaction.

"Not behind your back! You never asked!" You insist.

"That's because you swore off men in high school after that boy stood you up-"

"WE don't have to talk about that." You want to shove your hands over her mouth. Kyoya quirks a brow quietly from behind you.

You sigh, "I met him while I was a secretary. He owns a portion of his father's company and was scheduled to meet with my boss."

That's the only thing you're thankful to that secretary position for. Your boss had buzzed for you to prepare two cups of tea for him and his guest. Once you brought them their tea, your attention was stolen by the man sitting across from your superior. Luckily, you didn't drop any of the china on your way in once you caught sight of him. After Kyoya was finished meeting with your boss, he struck up a light conversation with you that had your heart soaring. Simply basking in his beauty and powerful nature made you swoon.

Kyoya returned to your boss's office far more often than he ever needed to after his first interaction with you. He appeared at your desk, asking for your boss when these types of things could have definitely been handled over the phone. At first he didn't understand why he did it, but he soon realized his feelings for you when he caught himself asking you to dinner on his way out one day.

"I still don't understand why you didn't tell me you were dating this man. Let alone living with him." Your mother finally calms down enough to have your heart aching with guilt.

"I meant to, Mom, but I just... I guess I was afraid of how you'd react." You admit finally, fidgeting with your fingers.

"Kyoya helps me pay for you gifts because I want the best for you. But honestly, he can get you much nicer things than I pick out... I'm pretty sure he can buy you a house." You mutter your last sentence.

Your mother laughs, "If my daughter likes him, I like him. Come here, Kyoya." She strides forward and pulls Kyoya down for a tight embrace.

Kyoya nearly chokes, clearly rendered speechless by her sudden show of affection. He manages to reciprocate despite his shock.

"Thank you. I can assure you, I only want the best for your daughter. I'm sorry we haven't met sooner." Kyoya grins.

He has contemplated reaching out to your mother by himself despite your adamant disapproval. But he hated the idea of going behind your back to do anything at all, so he kept to himself.

"It's alright, dear. I'd love to get to know you better. Are you sure I wouldn't be a bother at dinner?" Your mother returns to the woman you know and love.

"Not at all." You shake your head, a wide grin spreading to your lips.

"I'll call the the driver, tell him to bring around the SUV rather than the Benz." Kyoya pulls out his cellphone.

"A driver?" Your mother gasps, placing a hand over her chest and glancing to you for confirmation. You nod, biting your lip eagerly.

Once Kyoya's sent the short message, your mother slots herself beside him and curls her arm around his.

"So, Kyoya, you own your father's company?" The two of them walk in the direction of your shared bedroom, side by side. You watch as they leave you standing in the living room.

"Just a portion of it, yes. We're in the medical business, you see, managing hospitals and..." Kyoya's voice fades off into the house. He doesn't seem to mind your mother's sudden attention in the slightest, even switching his jacket to his other arm to accommodate her like the gentleman he is.

You purse your lips, glancing down once more to the velvet box in your hands and you're reminded that you need to start getting ready for dinner. You follow them, rolling your eyes as you hear your mother start to ask about just how well Kyoya's been treating you.

This is going to be the longest dinner of your life.

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have any questions? talk to my characters!🙏🏻

Adieu~ 🌹🌹🌹

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

Clone Wars headcanons that have been rotting in my google docs

I like to believe that Padme teaches Ahsoka how to make friendship bracelets and she treats it as something sacred and spends an unholy amount of time making some for the people she cares about 

Master Plo gets the first one, Obi-Wan gets the second, Rex Cody and a couple of their boys get some more, Padme of course gets one, and Anakin gets one last 

The reason he was the last to get one is something Ahsoka will never admit out loud but she honestly wanted to take her time with his

And because of that Anakin permanently has a work of art on his wrist like everyone’s is gorgeous but his is something else entirely  

He thanks her truly and honestly thanks her and promises to keep it forever 

When Ahsoka jokingly calls him for breaking the orders rules he comments back “When have we ever listened to those rules” 

He keeps his promise too that bracelet never leaves his person 

He’s lost clothes lightsabers and even a couple of prosthetics but he always makes sure to go back for that bracelet

He eventually repays the gift in kind with a bracelet of his own 

It’s not the best made or pretties thing but Ahsoka can feel the love that was put into it so she makes the same promise he did years ago and keeps it too 

When the twins are born Ahsoka makes them both friendship bracelets 

At first they are small enough for their tiny wrists but she adds onto them as they grow older 

Ahsoka tears up when she finds that they all kept the bracelets she never thought they’d toss them or anything but seeing them decades later does hit her hard because they’re all in perfect condition 

Padme loves to “kidnap” Ahsoka whenever they have the time 

She’ll just request her protection on a diplomatic mission 

Sometimes it is an actual mission but Padme will still make time to take them to her favorite restaurants or cafes so they can have a little bit of downtime

When the war ends the tradition continues even tho everyone knows Ahsoka’s not really there as a security escort 

I find the visual of Anakin and Padme telling Ahsoka, Obi-wan, and Rex they’re married fucking hilarious 

Both Obi-Wan and Rex would try to act like they’ve been fooled truly they do but it all kinda breaks when Ahsoka asks “Wait we weren’t supposed to know?” 

Anakin is just as confused when he asks “What do you mean Soka? How could you have known?” 

And that’s when Ahsoka just starts laughing hysterically and it doesn’t take long for Obi-Wan and Rex to join in when he asks again all Ahsoka says is “Really? Kriffing look at you two” and doesn’t add much else 

Both Luke and Leia try to replicate Ahsoka’s face markings with various levels of success 

They often ask their mom for help and she’s always happy to do so Ahsoka gets filled with unimaginable amounts of joy when she sees her niece and nephew trying to look just like her 

Anakin often jokes that of course he’s not the favorite even in his own home like she’s not the first name that comes up whenever babysitting is on the table 

It’s also not a surprise that both Ahsoka and Obi-Wan become the twin's space equivalent of godparents 

It seems like a necessary precaution all things considered 

Neither of them takes the role lightly but they also vow that it won’t be needed and they do everything in their power to make it so 

After most missions it is very rare for Anakin to let Ahsoka and Obi-Wan out of his sight 

Ahsoka never fights him on this and is perfectly happy to stay by his side and sleep in the living room like they often do 

Sometimes Obi-Wan is called away for a meeting with the council and can’t stay with the two but that doesn’t stop him from joining them later on in the night even if they’re asleep 

Anything beats sleeping in his cold desolate room after some of the more dangerous missions 

Sometimes they’ll go a step further and call Padme just to check in with her and have her on the line as they watch some stupid rom-com

After some of the rougher missions it wasn’t uncommon for Ahsoka to pass out due to the physical and mental strain 

It also wasn’t uncommon for Anakin to give her a piggyback ride back to the ship 

He finds that people shoot him less looks when he’s carrying his padawan instead of holding her in a death grip and not letting go until it’s time to leave 

A lot of people thought they’d grow out of this habit but no it’s a trend that stays throughout their lives 

It just so happens that Ahsoka grows tall enough to return the ongoing favor  

It also didn’t stop at the battlefield either 

Sometimes Anakin would find her passed out in the archives or he would get a message that she was asleep in a friend's room 

And he’d always go to get her because what’s he gonna do leave her there? 

Sometimes when Ahsokas babysitting the kids Anakin will find her in a position that Obi-Wan often told him about 

Sitting in front of the TV with the twins curled up at her side 

And while Padme deems it her job to carry the twins off to their room Anakin takes his long-time role of carrying Ahsoka to hers 

(Because if you think she wouldn’t have a room in their house you’re crazy) 

Anakin always knew Ahsoka would grow up that’s just a part of life and how the universe works 

But nothing can describe the feeling of her growing taller than him 

Envy isn’t what he feels no matter how much people suggest he does sadness isn’t either it’s something deeper than that 

Bittersweet is the closest word he could find because after all there’s nothing quite like watching your younger sibling grow up

[irasamu]

. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 THIGH FUCKING ; a osamu dazai fic. ❞

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . accidently deleted my previous account oops. i really want to tag the ones who had reposted and commented on this previously but i remember none, hope you guys find it again tho >~<.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; jealous!dazai, fem!reader, nsfw, thigh fucking, thigh pinching, uses of terms like "dumb bitch, slut" etc, slight degradation, and those are all i can remember tbh, uni au.

the winds blew by harshly and violently, as if in a hurry to reach their destination. and this hurry of the wind obstructed the path of others as they raced with the clouds to whatever their destination is. lectures had been canceled and everyone was advised to stay in the safety of their dorm walls even though the dorm buildings were right next to the college building.

   and this all led you to sigh, what were you doing here when most of the students were in the comforts of their rooms?

   you shake your head as the cold breeze hits you, making your skirt sway. you quickly make your way into your classroom with the intent of finding shelter there till the weather calms a bit ; the sight of the very few students who are stuck like you are is nothing more than little flashes due to how fast you are walking and you don't stop, till the familiar door of your classroom is just a few steps distance away from you.

   your steps are long and quick as you extend your hand, wrapping it around the round doorknob and twisting it open; you enter the classroom and close the door behind in hurry, shivering a bit.

   "well don't you look absolutely breathtaking." mocks a voice as soon as you turn around to face the class and when you tilt your head up to look at its owner who you recognize oh so well, you see dazai sitting on one of the last benches of the row farthest from the door, smirking.

   "what did you want from me?" you mutter in confusion, taking quick steps towards him as you don't waste time to reach the point ; surely if dazai wanted to meet you in the classroom after the end of the day even after knowing about the dangerous turn the weather took, it must be important.

  "oh come on, why are you in such a rush? let's have a conversation, you and me." dazai proposed though the omnious smile on his face screamed at you to refuse the proposition, turn on your heels and run towards the dorm quarters but it's the way the words rolled off his tongue, all sweetly and seductively that once again, made you bend your conscience and rationality for him.

   you nodded, almost sitting on the chair opposite of him when dazai tsked and shook his head.

   "not there," dazai's voice rang in your ears as he patted the table behind which he sat,"here."

   you nodded, standing infront of him for only a fraction of a second before you sat on the edge of his table, pulling your skirt down with one hand and curiously staring at the boy infront of you whose demeanor changed, the smile disappeared from his face as his eyes turned shaper.

  

dazai stands up with a sharp sigh leaving his lips and immediately planted his hands on either sides of you on the table, leaning closer to your face as he glares,

   "have i been too soft on you that you forgot your place?" he didn't ask you but told. he raised one of his hands to place them on your thigh, caressing the skin before he pinched it making you gasp.

   "unless i tell you, you aren't going to open that preety mouth of your's or i swear you won't be able to open your mouth for the next few days with the way i'll fuck it. we don't want that, do we?" he lowly muttered next to your ear, hand going a bit harshly towards your inner thigh which he again began to caress before pinching a very small amount of skin between his index finger and thumb and oh, the way it felt, the pain was a temporary guest as dazai immediately caressed the pinched portion with him thumb.

   you could feel the flutter in your pussy and the excitement wrapping around your heart which didn't go unnoticed by dazai, nothing ever does to be honest.

   "don't tell me you are enjoying being treated like a slut," dazai smirked, his hand traveling towards the top of your thigh which he squeezed as he looked down at your thighs, the way the skirt was almost teasing him by threatening to ride up to show more of your skin and the way only the plush portion of your thigh was revealed as the rest was covered by knee high socks, god, he felt the arousal building up.

  dazai took a step back and plopped down on the chair he previous occupied, pushing your legs a bit to have them directly against him as he poked his inner cheek with his tongue.

   "call that fucking guy who can't understand that what i claim as mine is only for me to enjoy" dazai said, his jaw tensed and it finally clicked and oh, the slick pool it left in your panties made you suck in a shaky breath.

   you were partnered up with a guy for a project and it just so happens that the guy was a bit touchy -- nothing inappropriate but just the sight of you laughing with him without caring or acknowledging dazai who sat behind you, rubbed dazai off in the wrong way. so to sum it up shortly, dazai is jealous.

   oh so jealous over something so small but you suppose you would've had the same reaction if your boyfriend was talking to someone else without as much as glancing at you.

   "i am sor--"

   a spank to your thighs cuts you off as you gasp, cowering under the glare dazai offered you.

   "did i ask you to speak? dumb bitch. can't even follow simple instructions.  perhaps i need to show you what happens to girls who can't follow instructions. gonna fuck you so dumb, you won't be able to tell left from right." dazai muttered and stood up, as he began to unbuckle his belt, unzip and unbutton his pants, he once again reminded you to call your project partner by tilting his head in the direction of your phone, which was tightly clutched by your two hands.

   you know to never argue with dazai when he is angry and so you obey, knowing that right now, all logic and reasons will go from above his head.

   so you shakily unlock your phone and scroll through the contacts, finding the name of your project partner while dazai takes his length out of his boxers, which, along with his pants hangs on his hips .

   dazai watches as you put the phone next to your ear, waiting for your project partner to pick up.

   "you look so adorable when you are my good girl then why do you act like this? hmm?" dazai once again places his hand on your thigh while he stokes his cock with the other one, his thumb caressed your skin as it teases you by going near your inner thigh but then quickly shifts to its original position.

   "why do you insist on getting on my fucking nerves?" dazai raised his eyebrows, the pumping motion of his hands increasing its pace as his anger takes over his brain.

   "dazai, let's be civil-"

   a smack on your thigh.

   then a caress followed by dazai trailing his nails on top of your thigh.

   "who gave you the permission to talk?" he muttered, having a smug smirk on his face as he knows you would've normally scoffed but you can't now, your neediness is making you bend upon his will.

   you can feel it, the sticky feeling in your panties and dazai could see it too through the short breaths leaving and entering your body.

   he lets his finger trail down towards your inner thigh, nail gently tracing the skin up towards your panties while his other hand never stopped its motion until his cock was hard enough, precum dripping from the tip made you feel almost dizzy.

   your rationality was overthrown by desire which only wanted one thing ; dazai's dick inside you. a few heavy pants leave your lips and you almost parted your legs, had it not been for your project partner picking up the phone at the exact moment.

   "hello? did you need something?" your project partner's confused voice could be heard through the phone and you know dazai heard it or he wouldn't have smirked the way he did.

   "talk to him" dazai mouthed, parting your thighs with his hands as he stepped closer to you ; spitting on his dick and rubbing it a bit to have moisture before he made you close the plush part of your thighs with his dick in between, he looked up to see you parting your lips and tilted his head in the direction of your phone which made you realise you haven't replied to your project partner.

   "n-no, i just wanted to talk to you."

   dazai snickers upon hearing you stutter, slowly thrusting in and out of your thighs; you softly gasp as the tip of his dick just lightly grazes your panties before he almost pulls himself out, only to slam himself in against. your project partner said something but you are too distracted by the way dazai has his eyes closed as he let's out small and deep breaths to care to hear what your project partner has to say.

   "talk, doll." dazai commands lowly and you flinch, gulping heavily.

   "hey-hey, sorry, what did you say again?" your voice came out nearly as a whimper; dazai pushed your thighs together even more as he sighed in content, dick thrusting in and out while his thumbs caressed your skin.

   you plant your free hand on the desk behind you as you arch your back, trying to focus on anything but the sensation of dazai's dick against your inner thighs though your attempt is futile, you close your eyes and tilt your head back, frustrated because you know dazai won't lean near you and plant kisses on your neck, he won't gently graze your throat with his teeth and neither will he nibble on the junction between your shoulder and neck --because this is how dazai punishes.

   he drives you almost insane for his touch, making you desperate and pathetic just to feel him trace your arm with a single finger.

   "do you want to come to my house for the project?"

   "nO!" you yelped as dazai squeezed your thighs tightly and pinched them, he glares at you as a warning and you end up clearing your throat, "i mean no, i can't come. sorry. i have to babysit this whole week."

   your pathetic attempt to make an excuse has dazai nearly snickering but he stops himself from doing so ; rather, his thrusts become more quick as he takes in the sight of you, your breasts bounce slightly due to him and you dig your teeth on your bottom lip, trying not to whine for his touch.

   "i didn't know you babysat."  dazai muttered in your ear to tease you, making sure to speak closely to the phone so your project partner could pick up on his hushed voice too.

   "umm, are you with someone? i can hear another voice with you." your project partner's voice forced you to pay attention to him, you were about to deny his assumption but dazai wasn't having any of it, the man refused to.

   so one of his hands came up to caress the space below your breasts, you almost shuddered at the much needed contact of his hands with your body, before dazai groped one of your breasts and harshly began to squeeze it.

   you weren't sure how you were going to cover up the breathless gasp that escaped the cage of your lips but you didn't care, too high up in the pleasurable sensation which came with every squeeze.

   dazai grunts, now moving your thighs along with his thrusts to induce even more friction on his dick and when he twitches before cumming, he tightly squeezes your thighs around his dick.

   you whimper lightly as you feel his fluids on your thigh and inside them, the sticky fluid makes you shiver and dazai too for he hadn't seen a more erotic sight then this, seeing you pant as you sit all prettily with his cum covering your thighs, god, if he wasn't trying to punish you, he would've made you scream his name.

   and you didn't bother answering your project partner who called your name, biting your lip as you watched dazai cleaning himself with a tissue before wearing his pants again.

he leans down to place a kiss at the corner of your lips, staying still as he whispers against your skin, "put the phone on speaker and let that  bastard hear how good I make you feel with just my thigh. Ride my thigh, my love."

[itsjaywalkers]

laurie do you have any spare boxer!barty headcanons… from boxer james au…

SAINTS ANYTHING FOR U BABE U KNOW THIS

*cracks knuckles* okay so

he fights very methodically, almost like he's fucking possessed sometimes BUT his rivals still have a hard time reading him and predicting his moves bc he's also . reckless . and will break routine all of a sudden with the most dangerous combination u can think of

a lot of ppl are convinced he plays dirty or even cheats but the truth is that he's just Good and really fucking smart

as in, the thing about boxer barty is that he can get a read on his rivals during the first handful of seconds

yes he's strong yes he's a wild card and yes he has the technique but what makes him win at the end is his ability to . get into his opponent's head

the exception to this is james and not bc barty can't read him. it's simply that the hatred they profess each other is so visceral he just goes fucking Feral. both of them do

speaking of, they rarely get to finish their matches bc they always end up disqualified halfway through bc it gets Nasty pretty quickly when those two are involved

he's been on so many scandals. So Many. it's sort of ruined his reputation but his fans think is part of his charm

like . you know how athletes are very careful when it comes to their public images and take care of their bodies or whatever . yeah barty doesn't give a fuck about that and you WILL see a headline about him getting blackout drunk after one of his victories

this is mostly due to how controlling his father used to be back when barty was still under his thumb

in a way, most of what barty does has something to do with his father one way or another

everyone knows they had a very bad fallout like . it's public knowledge but since they don't have the details they're all soooo curious

interviewers know not to bring barty's dad up tho bc barty has flipped his shit before and on national television too so . they stray away from the topic completely

he's anti pr. his team has tried to clean up his act so many times. it never works. they've given up. at this point they're just ready to do some damage control

most of his money goes to his mother (his parents are divorced in this one and since his dad left her with pretty much nothing after they broke things off, barty took it upon himself to take care of her)

in fact, he lives with her

whenever barty loses a fight is Always on purpose

because he's obsessed with a certain nurse.. so he lets himself get beaten up from time to time just so he has an excuse to go see said nurse.. (it's evan. evan is the nurse)

evan is odd and offputing and he doesn't seem to like barty very much BUT he does seem to enjoy the sight of blood.. and analysing ppl's injuries even more than he does fixing them up.. so barty's happy to let him poke around

one time he lost a couple of teeth after a especially hard punch and while they tried to check his head and take him to the hospital barty's only concern was finding his lost teeth so he could bring them to evan

his friendship with regulus starts off as him finding reg Hot while simultaneously wanting to piss james off

but they end up Clicking and reg is the very first person barty opens up with about his dad + everything that happened with his mum

he had a thing with lily a while ago but it was mostly casual and he broke it off as soon as he found about her also sleeping with james.. they're still friends tho!! and barty is very fond of her

his first kiss with evan happens after he's dizzy and very out of it bc of the amount of blood evan just took from him (he spends more than a week thinking he dreamt it)

honestly most of his appointments with evan can be summarised by barty getting a lot of random erections and evan blinking at him with his dead brown eyes while he pokes around his body and worsens every single one of his injuries (before actually patching him up)

and im gonna stop myself there bc this is getting out of hand

[luveline]

Hello!! For the zombie au, I would love to see something (no pressure at all tho - I love you and any of your writing regardless ❤️❤️) where the reader gets overwhelmed at the camp and goes off on her own for a bit, causing Steve to go absolutely insane with worry in the meantime. Totally up to you whether something dangerous actually happens or not. Thanks a ton either way!!

thank you for your request! i didn’t make him as worried as I could’ve potentially so please request again if this isn’t quite what you meant! zombie au steve x fem!reader

There are three different children having tantrums at breakfast. You wince at the sound, hands at your knees and squeezing, looking for relief. You have a headache the size of Mount Everest, in the midst of recovery from a cold that had you weak with fever and aching, and this isn't what you'd pictured when you crawled out of your tent this morning. 

Steve had been snoring, and Robin's newly adopted cat had been restless, climbing up and down your bodies like you were nothing more than lumpy pillows, and combined with your headache it had been a little too much to bear. Rather than wake either of them to amend their problems, you saw no harm in getting up for a walk and a moment's respite in the small communal area of camp near the fire pit. 

The fire hasn't been lit. For a while you'd all operated on nocturnal time, worried your smoke trail would attract the unkind, but it hasn't been a feasible plan to stay that way with so many young children living in the commune. These days you make very small fires when you need to warm food or boil water, and you try to stick to dry wood to minimise the amount of smoke. 

You're not sure what's causing the tantrums, perhaps they're setting each other off, but things are starting to get too much for a second time. Without a friend at your side, it's easy to fall into despair. You're sick without medicine, you've been sleeping on the floor outdoors for weeks and it's making you incredibly sore. The children are here and alone and most of them are orphans now because the unspeakable happened and it keeps on happening. Your life is a tragedy novel, the situation is dismal, and you're not sure life is ever going to get better. 

You stand up and walk for the river. The sound of rushing water will cover everything else, at the least, and there's a tree you can climb with minimal effort, a branch you can perch on that's high enough that nothing can reach you while you're overstimulated and distracted.

Today could be a good day. You need to clear your head first, is all. 

—

Steve frowns at the empty blankets beside him. He'd prefer you didn't leave without waking him, 'cos he won't be able to breathe properly until he knows you're okay. He wishes he lived in a world —that you all did— where you could go wherever you liked without telling him and he wouldn't need to worry. He hates that he needs to know where you are. 

He wiggles his toes in his shoes, trying to wake them up as he stands from the tent and casts his gaze over the camp. There's a little boy crying near the single fold out table they have. A man scoops him up and starts to rub his back, shushing him. A gaggle of girls laugh beside a small fire, camping pans and cans of soup in tongs held over the flames. Dustin and Will are already up, coming back from the river with a bucket between them. 

"Hey," Steve says, jogging up to them. He looks around. "Seen Y/N?" 

"She wasn't by the river," Will says.

"But we caught you guys a fish," Dustin says. 

Steve looks down into the bucket, where a few smaller carp lie dead. "Oh, nice going. You didn't stab them, right?" 

"We're humane," Dustin says. "You have to debone your own. We're not doing all the work." 

Steve pats his shoulder. "Hey, thanks. Just as soon as I find Y/N." 

He doesn't find you soon. You aren't at the campfire. You aren't in the general area surrounding it. You aren't in someone else's tent, and he's sure they all think he's a control freak for checking. 

He tries to calm down. Chances are you needed the bathroom and wanted privacy. He isn't freaking out, he isn't freaking out, really, he's just– he's thinking logistically, because nothing good happens where he can't see you. 

Steve turns in a frantic circle, eyes everywhere, searching for your hair, your big coat. 

He's about to admit defeat and start shouting your name when you chirp up from behind him. "Hey, handsome. Fancy seeing you here."

He turns, sees you all in one piece in your big warm coat, your clean face shimmering with damp. 

"Oh," he says, feeling like he's been punched, "those losers lied to me. You were by the river?" 

You trudge over long grass to nudge him. "Just for a bit. My head was hurting. I saw them catching fish for a while, they're pretty good, but don't blame them, I don't think they knew I was there." 

"Idiots," he says, not meaning it. His head is pounding. "Why, where were you?" 

"Sitting on the 'dangerous' tree branch." 

He takes your shoulders into his hands. He can see you preparing for a kiss, your eyes closing slowly, your chin lifting just a little. Newsflash! You made him worry and now you're climbing up trees. He shakes you gently, and when it doesn't upset you, he shakes you more. You laugh infectiously and let your head loll back and forth. You don't ask him to stop, but he feels bad, and he hugs you rather than scramble your brains any further. 

"You have a conniption?" you ask into his neck. 

"Maybe." 

"Sorry, honey," you say, which is funny and sweet, because it's the name he always gives you. 

He rubs your back. "Hmm. I should give you a speech on not wandering off along and unnecessary risks." 

"Don't do that." 

"No, I'm going to, actually." 

He sits you by the fire and makes breakfast. The speech isn't a speech, really, just an excuse to talk at you, thankful that he still can. You give him all the meatballs from the weird canned spaghetti and he starts to forgive you for the heart attack. You wipe a dab of spaghetti sauce off of his lip with your thumb before giving him a peck, and he forgets what he was talking about in the first place.

[deadlynavigation]

Hello! how are you? I hope you are well, I love your account and I wanted to place an order with you if possible. Could you do a Male!Wednesday x Reader where the Reader is pregnant? how would he act? How would he take care of the baby when it was born? I hope the request is not too strange and I hope you can attend to it, have a good day.

HC: Pregnancy

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of labor, swearing, grave robbing, mentions of castration, electrocution, serial killing, and beheading; mention of sex. (sorry guys it's wednesday 😭)

Author's Note: Oh my gosh you are so sweet, thank you for the request. This was a fun one. And honey I have gotten way weirder requests than this one. Side note tho, if you ever want to request something again make sure you specify headcanon or oneshot, etc. I made this one a headcanon- I hope that it's satisfactory.

(Navigation)

This experience would be entirely new to him

Someone he loves -romantically, at that- is creating and carrying something he’ll love just as much?

He’s obviously overjoyed, but scared as fuck

So he does everything in his power to prepare

The amount of books and tomes he would dig out of the library (and sometimes graves) would start forming a pile on your nightstands the second you tell him the news

Books like How To Raise Your Demon, Surviving and Dying In Parenthood, and What To Expect When You’re Expecting are always either in the corner or tucked away in Wednesday’s arm

And every single day without fail you’ll find your husband reading one of his newly-stolen books, brooding in the sitting room with the straightest posture and most panicked eyes you’ve ever seen

That’s normally when you yank the book from him, walk over to the window, and watch as it drops further and further from you both and into the bushy gardens below

Lots of affirmative kisses from your end

He's probably more anxious than usual but refuses to show it, so just in case, you make it a habit to pepper his face in pecks every ten minutes or so

But at the end of the day, when you're both in bed and cuddled up next to each other

Wednesday is fully relaxed, knowing that he holds his world (and a little addition to that world) in his arms

Besides the prep, this man is also a monstrosity when it comes to your wellbeing

He’s not going to be too protective, and he’s not going to monitor you

But he’s going to call in five different doctors the second you’re feeling under the weather

Your temperature is high? Doctor.

Your feet are sore? Doctor.

Your nausea has you bedridden? Doctor.

And since it’s the only aspect of your pregnancy he’s been a bit feral about, you let him. You know it makes him feel better and it's nice to know he has your back

The baby being born is probably one of the most stressful times of Wednesday’s life

He’s next to you the entire time, letting you squeeze his hand as hard as you deem necessary while he sits there with a stoic face

Every so often he’ll look down to where your face is scrunched in pain and effort, and lay a comforting kiss on your forehead or cheek

You want to slap him for it

There were times where he had to leave the room because of the danger you presented to his well being

Phrases such as: kiss me again and I’ll rip your dick off with my teeth; appreciate your head now because after I’m done, I’m getting your ass on a chopping block; and his personal favorite, I am not above using that electrocution chair to make sure there are no more potential children left within you

So yeah his mom made him leave

When your labor finally stopped after a grueling 13 hours, Wednesday is the first by your side, staring at you in awe as he brushes your hair back

He cries when he holds his baby for the first time

I am a firm believer that Wednesday wouldn’t care about the baby’s gender

Anyone can be a serial killer, no matter if they’re a boy or girl

So either would be treated with the utmost respect and love

As would you- you’re still recovering from labor, as well as caring for your beautiful child

So he dotes on the both of you (but would deny it if anyone asked)

He’s the one that gets up with the child in the night, unless he’s so deep in sleep that he could be mistaken for a corpse

And you take care of the child during the day

It’s pretty much an equal split, one that took time to master after many fights and sleepless nights

But aside from those difficulties

There have been many instances of you and Wednesday standing over your baby’s gothic crib, his hand snaked around your waist and your head leaning on his chest as you admire your creation

Or when you’re feeding the baby, and Wednesday just looks on, observing. When you’re finished, he’ll come to calmly take the child from you, take his time to lay them to sleep, and kiss you fiercely while murmuring how incredibly attractive you are

And though sex isn’t an option right then and there, the intimacy between you two is strong

Overall, the experience has brought you closer together and shown just how deep your problem-solving skills and trust with each other truly are

[desire-mona]

this most definitely isnt an original thought and i've probably heard it on a podcast before but. i am so married to todd's sweaty tooth madman poem being a metaphor for not accepting being gay.

so here's me picking the whole thing apart (and not proofreading anything)

so starting with

the sweaty toothed madman of course being walt whitman, who we all know is (at least rumoured to be) gay. now the interpretation of whitman being a metaphor for todd's sexuality is nothing new, but i'd like to expand on it.

"i close my eyes and this image floats beside me"

i see this as any moment todd has to himself, no matter where he is, he is reminded whitman/ the fact that he's gay. the specific usage of closing your eyes to mean that the image/ reminder is always there, always following. i see the use of the words "beside me" in a couple different ways. either to suggest that the reminder is just out of view, being pushed away just enough to not be the main focus and more something you see in your peripheral, or in a 3rd person perspective, seeing todd and the imagery of walt beside eachother, coinciding with eachother. i could see both interpretations working equally as well, or even comined.

"the sweaty-toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brain"

THIS LINE. i loooove his use of sweaty toothed!!!!!

if you're not sure what sweaty toothed means, it just kinda means ur teeth r. wet. drooly mouth. i see this madman being sweaty toothed to mean that he's "hungry", not literally, but more desiring something. this being truth, which i'll get into later.

the stare that pounds my brain. oh man. ok so obviously this means that the image/ thought is intimidating, terrifying, threatening. the implication that todd being gay is as much of a threat to his life/ wellbeing as a madman that has it out for him, both ideas causing him an insane amount of stress.

this line is fairly simple to me, the reminder goes from something that terrifies you but ultimately can go unacknowledged, to a constant, overbearing thought that suffocates you enough that you HAVE to face it in some way or another. todd is facing it fearfully, letting it take control of him and how he acts rather than tackling the idea himself. he is defenseless against this part of him

truth (ur gay)

todd thinkin this truth will leave him unsatisfied in life :-( not only in the love sense tho! with his family too, if they find out god forbid, theyll surely view him differently and cast him off even farther than they already do. i also like to think this is him lowkey complaining that the blankets at welton are too small.

this also, devastatingly enough, reminds me of the bit from rocketman where elton comes out to his mom.

clip from rocketman (2019)

and he's mumbling. he's mumbling! this truth is still cloudy, not full realised, still being pushed away. whitman wants the truth, todd wants the truth, but he's still not ready, everything's still uncertain. this uncertain truth could also pertain to todd's feelings toward neil specifically, but i dont think that was the intention. todd does exist as his own person!

this ones simple again. you can fight off your feelings and sexuality all you want but it still wont really lead you anywhere you wanna be. you either end up marrying someone you dont love (women), or you end up alone. also the heavy emphasis on physical violence toward the Truth Blanket could be a metaphor for the physical danger todd would be in if anyone found out, but im not hellbent on that idea.

god. "from the moment we enter crying, to the moment we leave dying," is a BEAUTIFUL way to convey "your entire life" todd you have such a way with words. anyway. i take this as something like. this is something you're born with and cant change, todd was born gay, obviously, and it will never go away with any amount of effort. hence the wailing, crying, and screaming.

also i view the specific line of "it will just cover your face" in a couple different ways. either to mean this truth will suffocate you no matter what you do, or this truth will leave you needing to hide major parts of yourself from the world.

this got a bit repetitive, i apologise. but i still have more to say.

some parts of this poem i find to be a bit too wordy to have been come up with on the spot. do i think todd is talented enough to do so? absolutely! but i just dont think that's the case. i have no doubt in my mind that a LOT of what he said in front of the class was either already on his mind, or was written down beforehand but eventually scrapped.

specifics i have in mind are the concepts of a sweaty toothed madman and a blanket that leaves your feet cold. i dont think this sweaty toothed madman was written specifically with whitman in mind, i think it was just a vessel for his anxiety generally. but the blanket i just KNOW was thought out and written down with the intention to like. be a metaphor for being unsatisfied.

and that only makes the class laughing at that line that much worse, no wonder he wanted to stop! not only was todd incredibly brave for continuing after, but keating was unimaginably quick to get the focus back to the poem. he knew that metaphor meant something to todd, and choosing to expand on that was actually an amazing way to drive that home.

either way, todd's far more brave than i ever could be. i'd be shitting myself up there.

also if u disagree with any of these points are wanna add anything then TELL MEEEE!!! art is anything but subjective and i looove seeing how you guys view things like this.