#the only one I think might be a little easier is markings

[grahamfolgersdeliciousnotebooks]

A quick little Scottish Safehouse fic for you. Check it out on AO3, or read below. Reblogs, replies, etc are always extremely appreciated.

They didn’t talk about it, at the safehouse. They talked about everything but – the weather, the dishes, the neighbors’ cows. They talked about Daisy, but only to comment about her decor, or her taste in books and music made evident by the small collection of vinyl and battered paperbacks scattered across the house. They didn’t talk about what she might be doing now. They didn’t speculate about whether Basira had made good on her promise yet.

Jon didn’t ask Martin about anything he’d said in the Lonely, though the words I really loved you, you know burned a constant hum in the back of his mind. Martin didn’t ask about any of the things he’d Seen. He wouldn’t know what to ask, even if he wanted to. Was it real? Do you love me? He wasn’t sure he needed to ask. What does it mean? Where do we go from here? That was closer to the mark, but terrifying. Everything felt so fragile at the moment. He didn’t want to push. It was easier, safer, to keep things light. Was the tea in Daisy’s cupboards still good? Had Jon seen that grey heron in the stream outside the window? Should they stop by the library the next time they went into town for groceries?

They barely spoke at all when they went to bed. The nerve-wracking reality of sharing a bed, just inches apart, overpowered any instinct to chat. So they said nothing, falling asleep to the sound of the other’s breathing until it was time for one or both of them to be woken by a nightmare.

***

The first night, it was Martin. He tossed and turned in his sleep, badly enough to shake Jon from his own bad dreams, so Jon could hear the second he woke with a hitched, choked breath. 

“It’s alright,” he whispered. “You’re alright, it was just a dream.”

“Jon?”

“I’m here.”

Jon reached across and slipped his hand into Martin’s, and Martin squeezed it like a lifeline. They didn’t say anything else, after that, but when they finally fell asleep nearly an hour later, their hands were still clasped together.

***

In the morning, they talked about the crossword.

“How do you spell obstinate?” Martin asked across the breakfast table.

“O-B-S-T-I-N-A-T-E.”

“Hmm. Too many letters, then.”

“What’s the clue?”

“Stubborn, 8 letters.” Martin told him. “First two letters are O and B.”

“What about ‘obdurate?’”

Martin pencilled it in. “It fits.” He frowned down at the puzzle with a contemplative hum. “And if that’s an R, then that means I was right about 4 down from the beginning…” He filled in a few more clues, then looked up from the puzzle and scoffed. “Obdurate,” he repeated, incredulous. “Who uses the word obdurate?”

***

Jon was woken after midnight by Martin’s harsh, shuddering breaths – crying or on the verge of tears; Jon couldn’t tell. He reached out, and Martin breathed out a shaky sigh.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I was on the beach again,” Martin whispered. “I was alone.”

“You’re not alone anymore.”

“I know.” Another sigh as he struggled to calm his breathing. “I know.”

***

The next day, they talked about the laundry.

“We forgot to buy detergent,” Jon informed him after spending the morning inspecting Daisy’s laundry room and its ancient washer-dryer.

“Daisy didn’t leave any behind?”

“You can look for yourself if you want, but I didn’t see any.”

“I trust you.”

Jon settled on the couch and spread the throw blanket across his lap. “How much did you pack? Do you think we can put off doing laundry until after we go to the shops?”

“Sure,” Martin told him, though in truth he hadn’t packed much. “We’ll be fine.”

***

When Jon woke, he didn’t move. He didn’t make a sound. He lay on his back, letting his tears slide down his cheeks in total silence, certain that he hadn’t woken Martin. But when he finally had to breathe – the tell-tale hiccuping inhale of someone who had just been crying – Martin rolled over to face him.

“Jon?”

“It’s nothing. Just a bad dream,” he whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

Martin watched him. Jon’s chest rose and fell unsteadily, and in the light of the nearly-full moon outside their window, Martin could see the tear tracks glisten, incriminating, on his face.

Jon finally turned to face him, and they lay face to face for a long, silent moment. A strand of long, grey-streaked hair had fallen into Jon’s face with the movement, and Martin reached out to tuck it behind his ear.

“Oh, Jon…”

He let his hand linger, cupping his jaw, then moved it an inch to brush aside the tears from Jon’s cheeks. His hand was warm, and Jon’s skin was cold, and Jon turned his face to press into that point of warm, gentle contact. 

Jon waited for Martin to pull his hand away. Martin waited for Jon to turn away again. Neither of them moved. 

Finally, Jon closed the space between them to tuck his face into the crook of Martin’s neck. Martin held his breath for a moment before bringing his arms up to pull Jon even closer.

They woke up that morning entwined in each other’s arms, but they didn’t talk about it.

***

“We’re almost out of eggs.”

“Already?”

“It’s probably my fault,” Martin admitted. “I used a lot of them for my omelet yesterday.”

“Well, we needed to go shopping anyway.”

Martin hmm’ ed thoughtfully. “There was something else we needed. Wasn’t there?”

“There was,” Jon agreed. “God, what was it?”

“We should start writing these things down.”

***

That night, Jon had another nightmare. Martin could hear him trying to stifle his crying once again, and reached out. 

Jon froze at the contact, caught like a deer in the headlights. Then he turned to press himself against Martin’s chest and let himself be held.

“Nightmare?” Martin asked, and Jon nodded.

“I couldn’t look away,” he murmured. “I tried to, but– I just stood there and watched.”

Martin pressed Jon to him. “It’s alright,” he said, though it wasn’t exactly true. Then he whispered, “I’m here,” which was.

***

The next day, they went into town for groceries. They chatted a bit on the walk there.

“God, breathe that air,” Martin exclaimed, sucking in a good lungful for himself.

“I’m breathing it…” Jon said. “Is there… something I’m supposed to notice?”

“It’s fresh!” Martin told him. “It’s good, country air! I don’t miss London right now, I’ll tell you that.”

“No.” Jon glanced at Martin, bundled in his worn peacoat against the highland chill. “I can’t say I miss London either.”

They chatted more in the grocery store.

“Where are you going?”

“I just want to look at the tea selection…”

“We already have so much back at the house.”

“I’m just looking!”

And more, on the walk back.

“Ooh, look there! Is that a falcon? Or a hawk?”

“A hawk.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, it’s a Eurasian sparrowhawk.”

“Know-it-all.”

“Yes, Martin, that’s sort of the idea.”

And more, when they got back to the safehouse.

“Geez,” Martin said as they walked through the front door, “it’s getting a bit nippy, isn’t it? Should we have a fire tonight?”

“Yes, that’s probably–”

Martin dropped the tote bag he was holding with an abrupt clunk.

“Laundry detergent!”

Jon didn’t have to ask what he meant; he just swore under his breath.

“Damnit!”

“We forgot laundry detergent.”

“Look, Martin, you finish putting the groceries away and I’ll run back to the shop.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t have to. It’s a long way–”

“I want to.”

“Alright.” Jon bit his lip around the urge to smile. “If you’re sure.”

***

It was Martin’s turn for a nightmare that night. It was too much to ask, it seemed, that just once they both sleep soundly.

He was crying. Quietly, but not so quietly that it didn’t stand out starkly against the silence of the house. He had his back to Jon, and Jon watched his shoulders shake for a single hesitant moment before he wrapped his arms around Martin’s waist.

“Was it the same dream?” he asked in a barely-there whisper, and Martin shook his head.

“You were there this time,” he said. “In the Lonely. But you… you hated me. You didn’t say it, but I could tell– I knew– you wanted me to go.”

“I’m sorry.”

Martin sniffled. “It was just a dream,” he said, as much to himself as to Jon.

“I… I don’t want you to go.”

“I know. You don’t have to… It was just a dream,” Martin repeated.

They let the silence hang in the air for a time, Jon holding Martin in a wordless embrace, Martin letting the tears come without trying to fight them this time. Jon broke the silence to murmur,

“I was prepared to stay.”

“What?”

“When I went into the Lonely, I didn’t know if I’d be able to pull you out – I didn’t know if I’d be able to pull myself out. I just knew…” he took a steadying breath, and pressed his ear to Martin’s back to hear the quiet beating of his heart. “I’d rather be there with you than leave you there alone.”

“Oh.” 

Martin took Jon’s hand in his, pressing it to his chest like a talisman, like it could ward off the Lonely. Maybe it could.

“Thanks, Jon. I…” Another sentence he couldn’t finish. “Thank you.”

Jon turned his head and pressed a kiss to the back of Martin’s neck. In that moment, it felt natural. It felt simple. It felt right.

Martin sighed. The sound was warm, and gentle, and content, and it felt so loud against the silence of the room.

They didn’t talk about it.

***

The next day, they did laundry.

The washer seemed up to the task, but the dryer, which Jon had been dubious of since the moment he set eyes on it, gave out halfway through the first spin cycle. In the end, they had to hang it up to dry.

They worked as a team, Jon handing Martin clothes and pegs and Martin hanging them on the laundry line that stood in the yard behind the safehouse.

They chatted while they worked.

“I’ve never seen you wear this in my life,” Martin remarked as he hung up one of Jon’s old tee shirts from uni.

“Yes, well, I was in a bit of a hurry when I packed…”

Martin read the text printed in too-small serif across the front of the shirt, and his face split into a grin.

“Wait, am-dram? You did am-dram in uni?”

“Very briefly.”

“This explains so much about you.”

“Shut up, Martin,” Jon muttered without any real venom.

“Well, let’s hear something! You must have a bit of Shakespeare memorized.”

He did, but he wasn’t going to say as much while Martin was mocking him.

“I’m not a performing monkey.”

“Oh, come on, just one quick monologue! Just a little, ‘But soft, what light through yonder window breaks…’”

“It is the east, and Juliet is the sun,” Jon finished rotely and without intonation. “Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou her maid art far more fair than she – and that’s as much as you’ll get out of me.”

Jon bent over to grab more laundry and did his best to hide his face.

“Are you happy?” he asked.

Martin grinned. “Very.”

“Well… that’s good,” he said stiffly. “I’m glad.”

Martin looked at Jon – desperately embarrassed, surrounded by sodden tee shirts, windswept silver-black hair gleaming in the late September sun – and felt more fond than he ever had of anyone in his life.

“I love you.”

The words slipped out before he realized what he was saying. Jon’s head swung around to stare.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t– I mean– I know it’s–”

“You do?” Jon’s words were quiet and utterly serious.

Martin gave an anxious little nod. “Yeah.” His voice came out smaller than he expected. “I do. I really, really do.”

Jon let the pair of trousers he was holding fall to the ground as he surged forward to kiss him.

***

Another nightmare. Another round of whispered reassurances.

“It’s alright, you’re alright, I’m here.”

When the shock wore off and they were able to shake the residual dread from their respective bad dreams, they turned to face each other on the mattress. The light from the barely-waning moon painted everything in shades of dusky silver. 

For a long time, they didn’t speak; they simply studied each other’s faces. Eventually, Jon brought his forehead up to rest against Martin’s.

“I love you.”

Martin swallowed. He still wasn’t used to hearing it. Jon wasn’t used to saying it.

“I love you, too.”

Their lips met in one soft, slow kiss, and then they pulled away just enough to gaze at each other as they fell back into sleep.

[fastandcarlos]

What Baby Wants, Baby Gets : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: he might try and guilt you for making him go out in the early hours to satisfy your cravings, but you won't let him win

You couldn’t help but smile as Max groaned beside you, his arms stretching up before his hands ran over his face, head tilting to his left so that he could glance across and take a look at you. 

“Morning,” you whispered, resting your head down against his shoulder. “Did you have a good sleep?” You then asked, sniggering as Max scoffed, his head immediately shaking across at you. 

In the early hours you found yourself struggling, unable to push the thoughts of your cravings to the back of your mind. For a while Max managed to ignore it, but eventually he made the mistake of asking if you wanted something, only for you to tell him yes. 

It felt like a figure of speech when you first fell pregnant, with Max telling you to get him if you needed something, wherever, whenever. But he didn’t quite imagine himself actually being woken up at two in the morning with you begging him to help you out. 

“Last night was a one-time thing,” Max told you, covering his mouth as he let go of a yawn. “Do you know how long it took for me to fall back to sleep? Especially with you snoring right beside me.” 

An apology came from you, but so did a chuckle as Max glared down at you. As soon as your craving what satisfied, you found yourself easily able to fall asleep, not worrying about Max and the fact that he was now the restless one tucked up beside you. 

Although he teased, he was relieved to see you resting though, knowing just how little sleep you were getting with your baby constantly reminding you that he was there. 

“I do appreciate what you did last night,” you whispered, brushing your hand gently through Max’s hair. “You didn’t have to get up and run to the store.” 

“I did, because I promised that I would always do whatever I could to help you,” Max reminded you, kissing against the top of your head, “and what baby wants, baby gets.” 

Your head nodded as Max trailed one of his hands down to rest against the top of your baby bump, his smile wide as he felt just how big it was again, knowing that you were already nearing the halfway mark. 

“I know for a fact that this little one appreciates what you do too, they were feeling particularly peckish last night,” you added, pressing a kiss to Max’s shoulder. 

His eyes rolled as once again you used the baby to get to him, knowing that if there was one person that he couldn’t say no to, it was definitely your baby. 

“I can’t wait for when the baby arrives so I can tell you to go and get your own food again,” Max joked, “you won’t be able to treat me like your slave anymore.” 

“You’re so dramatic, don’t pretend you don’t enjoy all of this.” 

It wasn’t exactly his favourite thing to do getting up in the early hours of the morning, but knowing that he was helping you out did fill Max with pride. 

“Maybe I’d enjoy it more if you asked at a decent time,” he laughed in response. 

“I don’t think I get much of a choice, if you’ve got a problem, bring it up with your child instead,” you smiled, tapping against your baby bump. 

Max’s eyes watched over you carefully as you moved closer into his side, moving one of your hands to rest against the small of your back. A groan came from you as you tried to get comfortable again, a game that you had been playing with your child for several weeks now. 

“Do you think the baby knows the most inconvenient times are to be annoying to us?” You asked Max, hearing a chuckle come from him. “Why can’t they be restless at lunch? That would be perfect.” 

“I don’t think they’re smart enough to tell the time yet,” Max sniggered, squeezing around your frame. “It’s going to get easier, hopefully the cravings will stop soon.” 

Your head nodded as Max tried his best to reassure you. Whenever you were struggling, he was right there with you, somehow Max always knew the right thing to say to make you feel better, making sure to hold onto you too to let you know that he was there. 

“It’s going to be alright,” Max whispered closely to your ear, “whatever comes our way then we’re just going to take it on together and find a way to figure things out.” 

You hummed as Max spoke, a lot more doubtful than he was. If he could, Max would read just about every baby book, watch every documentary, absorb as much knowledge as he possibly could to make sure he knew exactly what to do in every possible situation. 

“If it’s not morning sickness it’s cravings, and then once that finishes then it’s going to be the lack of sleep, soon enough I’m not even going to be able to see my feet.” 

Before you could continue, Max quickly shushed you. “And I’ll be there to help you with all of that, no matter where we are or when it is.” 

“I thought you didn’t like the early hours?” 

Max jabbed against your side as you teased him, knowing that regardless of the time he would always be there. It hurt him a lot seeing you so uncomfortable so often, he wished that there was more that he could do to make your life easier than it currently was. 

“If I were you, I’d make the most of me running around after you,” Max grinned, “because once the baby is here, they’ll be the only person I’ll be waking up at three o’clock in the morning for.” 

“You mean to say you’d leave me to fend for myself?” 

“Absolutely,” Max jokingly smiled, “you’re capable of getting up and sorting yourself out, a little baby isn’t quite as developed as you are.” 

“I’m spending nine months growing this child of yours, just in case you’ve forgotten that,” you quickly reminded him. 

“I know, I’m just messing with you,” Max assured, squeezing your frame. “I might have to cut myself in half so one part of me can look after you and the other look after the baby, that way I might just be able to be in two places at once.” 

“I’ll be alright,” you whispered, only for Max’s head to shake, refusing to let you take care of yourself straight away once the baby arrived. 

It didn’t matter whether you were pregnant or not, injured or in peak condition, Max loved looking after you and would always do so, regardless of how much you sometimes protested against him. 

Now more than ever he was glued to your side, he’d tease you and mess with you but he wouldn’t have it any other way, being able to help you was one of the things he enjoyed the most at the moment. 

“I can’t wait to see how things play out over the next few months, how big of a change is about to take place in our lives,” Max mused, resting his head on top of yours. 

“I’m terrified,” you admitted, “no one can predict how this is going to play out, there’s a fear of the unknown lingering in the back of my mind right now.” 

“You don’t need to worry,” Max assured you, “no matter what happens, we’re going to face it together, I’m going to be right here with you.” 

“Even in the early hours of the morning?” 

“Even in the early hours my love.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[sugarverse]

when they have crushes on you they..

[ bnha headcanons ]

izuku, bkg, iida, todoroki & kiri

✩ I. midoryia

always makes the conversation about you. he just knew you’d enjoy it! Or you’d have something to say about how something went down.

He was always fixing his clothes around you, trying to make sure both of his shoes were tied, etceteria. He couldn't do much with his hair but he tried his hardest to be presentable.

stutters so bad trying to talk to you. “c-c-can.. jeez. um. can I um.. can I borrow that marker? when you're um.. when you're done, y/n?”

obviously it gets better but it gets much much worse first.

often invites you to play imessage games when he wants to talk but is too nervous whatever he has to say isn't interesting enough

tries to get your favorite kind of coffee when you're having a bad day, wanting to be the person you leaned on. he knew how hard school could be and how hard being a heroine would be. it's the least he can do.

asks if you want to go on his morning runs with him, it gave you two time to talk about things he couldnt spit out over text :)

★ t. iida

offers the last bite of his food, always saving some to the side for you to try. you had always been pretty indecisive on what you wanted to eat and he picked up on it. so he made sure he'd save a bite or two for you of whatever he had. this started more as a habit of ‘wanting you to eat’ he couldn't understand why it could be related to his oh so private feelings

often rests a hand on your back whether rubbing it or guiding you through the hallway.

always trying to help, hovering over you as you cooked for yourself, weasling his way to helping you cut vegetables. Or carries your laundry, thinking how beneficial it would be to just do both loads at the same time.

covers the corner of tables as you storm by, ranting about something that really pissed you off. he'd always be there to listen and agree with you.

will wait those few last seconds so you aren't late, alone. he'd never risk his punctuality for anyone.. but he couldn't help but wait for you. Its like you made him stuck.

realizes he has a crush by getting something he'd thought you'd like at the mall, some charm bracelet you might not wear but your favorite characters had been on it. He gave it to you as a “good job on sportsmanship”? Thats what he tells you anyhow.

✮ s. todoroki

stares at you from across the room, not being able to hide it for the most part but you're oblivious to it.

always turns when your name is said to hear what anyone has to say about you

arm gets a little too hot when you brush against him and he often has burn marks in his shirt.

follows you around, not speaking much but liking when you two would sit next to each other and you'd show him the games you had on your switch. he was very invested in Animal crossing

buys you lunch most of the time, swiping his card whenever you got what you wanted and stepping ahead to pay. you only fussed about it one time, knowing he was just being gentlemanly. andhisglarewaskindascary

the quietness of his crush doesn't last long, he flat out tells you “Y/n, I think I have feelings for you.”

⋆｡° e. kirishima

started buying your favorite kind of snacks when he went to get his own , absentmindedly thinking about you more often than he should.

always opens the door for you, did it before he Realized he had a crush. but now? he does everything. he'll slide your chair back, shut the door for you, let you use his umbrella when needed

lowkey stalks your reposts on TikTok to see what things your into

always asks if youll be his player two on a game because it's easier to beat that way (games like minecraft)

always wants to work out with you, figures out when the best times were to ask and makes you routinely go together or he's blowing your phone up

ALWAYS always ALWAYS laughs at your jokes. he thinks you're the funnest mf walking earth besides himself and denki duo.

⛦ k. bakugo

sidewalk rule, pulling you to other side of him kinda roughly before putting his hands back into his pockets. “You don't walk in a straight line, stay over there.”

always has an extra jacket for you, you forget too much, dumbass.

when he does, always makes too much. So he makes you take whatever leftovers he's made and pretty soon he accounts for what you like and don't like.

reads romance manga that reminds him of you and him lol

changes music he listens to to someone you listen to, actually enjoys it and adds albums of music you'd never know he listens to until he's humming along to B.A.S by Megan in the gym??

weird compliments. like when you got your hair done? “your hair doesnt look shitty today” and when it does look bad? instead of being a bigger dick, he often mumbles a “did you get any sleep?" instead of the normal "your hair looks like burning trash."

@fizzintine negrofied everyone but bkg lol thanks bae for the coloring!

[houseofceline]

My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Starry Eyes

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: None (yet ;))

“Starry eyes

What can I do for your attention.”

Summary: Theodore’s late to class but Snape blessed him with the opportunity of sitting next to a cute Ravenclaw who’s no help at all.

1 >

--------------------

Clockwise or counterclockwise? 

You honestly didn’t even know anymore. No matter how many hours you spent on reading the thick potions textbook or wasting bottles after bottles of ink on notes you still barely passed the class. 

You were starting to get a headache from trying to picture the text in your head. Everything was starting to become foggy. You sat down, defeated, and began doodling on the parchment instead of writing detailed instructions on how to make the stupid potion. So much for a Ravenclaw. 

Hmm off shoulder or puffed sleeves?

 You bit your lip trying to decide which option would look better on the dress you sketched out. The classroom was calming with little chattering among your classmates in the back allowing you to work easier. You could never work or do anything in silence, it drove you crazy. 

Suddenly the door slammed open causing you to jump a bit in your seat. 

“Nice of you to join us Mr. Nott, although your presence was expected half an hour ago,” Snape drawled out in his infamous monotone voice. 

“Sorry I overslept,” he shrugged while adjusting his tie. Some students who were listening in laughed. With his messed up tie and ‘burn marks’ on his neck, it was clear that he was definitely doing more than just sleeping. 

Snape nodded and pointed at the empty seat next to you, not surprising anyone that he didn’t take away any house points from his house. 

Theodore eyed you as he walked towards your table. He would’ve preferred sitting with his house, but he could never pass up the chance to sit next to a pretty girl. White blouse with a lace neckline and sleeves, black plaid skirt, Ravenclaw tie, black sleek hair, and a white headband. You didn’t fit into the usual type of girls he went for, but you were cute. 

Theodore took the seat next to you before tapping on your shoulder. 

You turned to him and almost jumped when you found his eyes on you. Gorgeous blueish grayish eyes. 

So pretty, this might be my new favorite color. 

“So uh,” Theo cleared his throat ignoring the fact that he swore he just saw your eyes sparkle, “what are we doing?” 

You blinked. Under the pressure of a somewhat attractive boy it made your memory much worse. 

“Umm, we’re brewing a potion and writing?” 

You had hoped that didn’t come out as a question and hoped that he’d just nod and ask someone else. 

Theodore raised an eyebrow and glanced at your blue tie again. 

“Which potion exactly?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you as if you were lying to him. 

“Antidote to potions. Wait, no poisons. The common one. Wait, maybe the uncommon ones. Well I don’t think there’s a big difference. I mean, shouldn’t the uncommon ones be stronger and still fix the common ones?” You rambled on, looking off to the side lost in your own thoughts. 

Theodore blinked. The sorting hat rarely makes errors, maybe you were high but then again Lovegood’s also a Ravenclaw. The looney population in Ravenclaw must be high. 

“Why can’t they just make a super strong potion that fixes every poison? That’d make our jobs easier and we wouldn’t have to memorize so many potions,” you giggled as you turned back to your sketches. 

Theodore looked over your shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of your paper but instead your sketches caught his eye. You may be no help in potions, but you sure can draw. 

“Are you going to make that?” He asked while you squirmed at the close proximity of his face to yours. 

“Yes,” you mumbled shyly, scared of the criticism that might follow. You loved designing and fashion. It was one of the only things that came naturally to you, but coming from a family of doctors you were vulnerable to criticism for not following in their path. 

“Cute,” he said before his eyes found your potions paper. 

Common poisons. Theodore noticed that you only had half the page completed and chuckled. 

He got up towards the ingredients cabinet and grabbed his ingredients and the ones you were missing. 

Potions came easy to him. Not only did the teacher bias his house, but his mother was a skilled potions maker as well. Matter of fact her entire side of the family were. He had spent most of his summers in his manor reading journals of potion experiments and advanced information that weren’t even in his school textbooks. 

He quickly prepared his ingredients and started on his potion while continuing yours on the side. Luckily you were both in the back and Snape couldn’t catch him. He wrote down his notes and instructions making a mental note to tell you to copy them down later. You’d need it. 

Maybe he was also placed in the wrong house. Today, Hufflepuff seemed more fitting. You were lucky that you’re cute. 

[spitdrunken]

man. still have NOT managed to get my hands on the book of bill because it's sold out literally everywhere over here, but have any of you seen the new 'how not to draw' vid on the disney youtube channel that features bill? it really got me thinking.

notes: fourth wall breaking, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships, implied sexual content, implied mind control

it's heavily implied that the video takes place in a world where gravity falls is supposedly fictional, like our own. bill literally says he's going to break the fourth wall! because i'm a sucker for fourth wall breaks and characters being aware of their own fandom (to an extent), i simply just HAD to run with this scenario.

i just like the idea of 'you' being just a person, some totally, in the large scheme of things, insignificant human walking the earth. you have a tendency for escapism, perhaps. you have always been drawn to stories. you like gravity falls. maybe it was something you watched while you were younger and recently rewatched, or an interest that had never waned. regardless, bill cipher, charismatic and unapologetically evil villain that he is, is one of your favourites.

you doodle him on the edges of paper when you're supposed to be doing anything else. (regardless of anyone's artistic skills, it's not difficult to draw a triangle with a top hat and an eye, is it?) and in this world, you are hardly the only one who likes him, who, perhaps, ships himself with him, who thinks about him a lot. who makes drawings and writes or reads fic. you don't think it's all that unusual.

in a stroke of luck or, depending on how you look at it, the exact opposite, the universe's idea of a cosmic joke, you are the one to catch bill's eye. (it's, after all, much easier to infiltrate the dreams of someone who already has you on their mind. makes sense, doesn't it? a tentative, wavering link had been formed already.) there, in your dreams, he tells you what to say--triangulum, entangulum. meteforis dominus ventium. meteforis venetisarium--and the next morning, you remember it clear as a memory.

you do it. for funsies. why wouldn't you? you don't expect it to actually work. he's a fictional interdimensional demon. why would it work? but much to your surprise, and horror, because surely a screw must've gotten loose for this to be happening, one of your little doodles has life blown to it. as a response to your summon, a tiny little bill cipher darts across your paper, alive but still confined.

(you've given him an in. now, he only has to take the crack you've opened for him, dig his fingers in, and tear it open.)

oh, he'll be funny! he'll be exactly what you thought of him. perhaps he even voices a line of dialogue you swore you wrote down somewhere days prior. yes, he's read whatever you wrote or read, whatever you looked at. he's keeping it himself for now. it's not easy to inflate his ego further, but you might have succeeded. rather than a meatbag, bill first looks upon you with the eye of someone presented with a puppy. fundamentally lesser, but capable of being something with the right training.

he urges you to make a deal with him and the promise he'll act out whatever fantasy you've been cooking up in that brain of yours, even if it's gross and weird and physically impossible!

he'll warp your dimension to make all of it possible!!! it's great!!! don't worry about it!!!!!!

…you don't do it. you don't touch the paper. you've seen the show, and you aren't stupid. bill nearly balks. he'd expected you to be the easiest mark of all time, but he suppose he forgot that even puppies have teeth. that's fine. he can work with this. because even though you have not let him in yet, and you refuse to shake his hand through the paper, you don't seperate yourself from him just yet.

you could oh so easily take the piece of paper he's on and throw it in the nearest shredder. or set him on fire. in you, he recognises lingering curiosity, and the excitement at having stood out, at being chosen, in one way or another. it's not hopeless yet.

he can play a bit of a longer game, then. he's been at this for a long, long time. he'll tolerate the paper he's on being folded into a little square and tucked into your breast pocket, granting him a view of your life and the world you're living in. (all the time, his hunger grows.) your decision not to throw him away ends up being your downfall. spending so much time with bill, letting him joke around with you, complaining about your problems… it takes a while for you to realise that, for a while now, he has not been speaking out loud anymore, but instead through your mind.

a connection that cannot be cut has been formed in between two of you.

on bill's part, he had thorougly expected to be bored. but perhaps it's your genuine interest in him, not the things he's offering, which he does not often see. (he's been down this road before. won't end well. but...) the sheer mundanity of your life that makes him wish he could twist and turn it all around. or just a random alignment of the stars. the heart doesn't always follow logic. in this scenario, at some point, bill realises that he has become genuinely invested in you, too. and at that point, you'll never manage to slip away. he's already dug in his heels in your mind far enough. you had no adequate protection.

he still wants to take over your world. he still wants to escape the discomforting flatness of the paper you've summoned him in. but, perhaps, you two could share that meatsack of a body of yours, before things get that far.

[ariseur]

“do y’think we’re together in every universe, ‘gumi?”

megumi turned his head, cringing at how loud the pillowcase crinkled against his ear when he had redirected his vision from that seemingly alluring spot in the ceiling to your face. a dark hint of jade swirled in his eyes as they flickered around your face; even when he hadn’t meant to, megumi had managed to commit your face to his memory. every blemish, every beauty mark, every dry patch of skin on your body — it wasn’t his fault you were beautiful, he had always thought whenever you teased him about it. instead of expressing those thoughts though, he merely gave a smartass retort of, “if you saw he was staring, that’d meant you were staring, too.”

his lips pressed together. “what kind of question is that?” his brows furrowed together. on these nights where you would invite him to your dorm for the reason that you couldn’t sleep ( which was pretty frequently; to which he’d huff over the phone before you heard four quiet knocks on your door ), you never got tired of concocting these random questions and letting them escape from your mind and into megumi’s. he’d say it pissed him off but in actuality, he became pretty entertaining when he couldn’t sleep either.

your eyes darted to the left as if he was the one who had asked a dumb question before responding in confidence, “a smart one.”

he scoffed, “yeah, maybe in one of those different universes you dream about, it’d be considered smart.”

“wow — okay, rude much?” you laughed softly, by far one of the most relieving sounds your boyfriend’s ever heard. not that he’d ever admit it to you, though. he tilted his head back up to the ceiling, hands interlocking as they rested on his stomach above the comforter.

it’s silent for a while after that, the distant sounds of insects and various other creatures outside as they filled the void that emerges out at twilight. he didn’t bother to look in fear that you’re staring back at him again, but from the rustling on your side of the bed, he can infer that you’ve somewhat shifted your position and are facing away from him now.

taking a quick glance to his left, he sees you — and to his relief, you’re in fact not looking at him. instead, you’re back is facing him as the loose, worn out t-shirt slightly pooled on the side nearest to him, exposing some of your lower back. he let out a sharp exhale through his nose before tipping his head upwards again, facing the ceiling as he tries to differentiate the shapes he sees in the darkness.

your eyes fluttered for a moment, maybe some part of you thinking you did finally piss him off enough — before you heard his hushed voice, “i guess we would.”

after a small pause and your head turning to the side to let him know you were still listening, you mumbled back, “you guess we would?”

megumi’s eyes flickered once more back to you, watching as you made yourself comfortable and fully turned back around. you awaited his answer with expectant eyes, all glossy and big from the sliver of moonlight that had managed to sneak itself in through the blinds.

he gave a small shrug, “i mean, sure. nothing’s set in stone or anything — and it might not even be plausible that other universes even exist but,” he paused as he searched for the right words, “if they do, i hope we would.”

now it was his turn to hold his breath as his head lolled over to look at you again. you went silent, and he almost thought you were gonna be freaked out at his answer until your teeth shone in the light as your lips split into a sly grin. “awh,” you teased, “so you do care.”

he scowled, “never said i didn’t, maybe pay closer attention next time.”

you scooted a little closer to him ( an easier task than it seemed considering the dorms only have full sized mattresses ) before propping yourself up on one elbow and pressing soft, quick pecks to his pale skin. you only giggled further as he shifted away to try and escape your wrath, pushing you back on your side of the bed as he grumbled, “gross, morning breath.”

“actually,” you pitched your voice higher to make it sound nerdier, “it’s not even morning yet. probably just closer to four o’clock or something.”

megumi sighed, extending his arm to reach for his phone on the nightstand — .. to which he was blinded by the bright multicolored pixels that his screen consisted of. you ultimately narrowed your eyes as well before another smile graced itself upon your face, seeing the photo he took of you on your birthday this year as his lockscreen; a flower placed neatly in your hair as you looked off somewhere over yonder, completely candid. however, that heart warming thought became short-lived as he turned off his phone and turned back towards you, “it’s actually four thirty-six, all the more reason for you to get the hell to sleep.”

“eh, you know you still like me, though, ‘gumi.”

he stayed silent at that, reverting back to his position under the covers and staring back up at the ceiling. truth be told, he couldn’t lie to you and deny it like that — and in all honest; you’ve domesticated him, his heart remaining a stray, mangy cat as it yowls from its baptism in a pool of love; nearly drowning in the affection it has received and the care it brings with it. so instead, he huffed once more and shut his eyes, eyebrows permanently knitted together it seemed.

“still don’t like that nickname.”

“oh, hush.”

“never.”

𐙚 taglist ; ( nobody here yet for megumi 😞 )

𐙚 requests are open — june twenty first, 2024

[ma1dita]

if you need to be mean (be mean to me)

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 1.5k

summary: (established relationship) The one where he leaves before you wake up. You and Luke both can't ignore what's in front of you—and both of you feel guilty leading up to that night (Luke Castellan x dionysus!reader)

warnings: suggestive mdni if you’re uncomfortable – nondescript mentions of sex

a/n: someones gotta take mitski away from the pjo editors for fucks sake. yes, this is based off of ‘i don’t smoke’ (audiotree live) don’t look at me.

(posted 1/30/24 thanks to my betas ellie and lari @lixzey & @mrsaluado )

'lovers, or partners in crime' comes directly after

___

[ you come down and tell me, “i was meant for you”, baby || being with you makes the flame burn good ]

Your father once told you when you were younger that you were a divining rod for mayhem; you attract it, cause it, and in very few instances, you are the cure. It’s why your roles and responsibilities at camp hid you away from your full potential, and Luke knew you could achieve greatness if you left with him. He understood your madness more than you’ll ever know, and saw you for what you are–his cure. But he made his choice long before he recognized his devotion to you, distancing himself in order to fulfill his plans of waging war against the gods.

Sweet and sultry words slip from his lips to distract you from the growing distance of his heart from yours. A distraction is what he’s always been, and he’s good at playing the part. After all, everything he’s learned about deception and acting, he’s picked up from you. 

The guilt still sits heavy in his heart as he watches you walk around your bedroom the night before he leaves. Luke’s wondered if there’s any way he can convince you to come with him, but he knows your heart is softer than his, more forgiving. He thinks his damnation is past forgiveness anyway.

You trod over to meet him on your bed, hands full of moisturizer as you climb onto his lap and you look so willing and pliant to whatever he’ll say next. Luke knows you’ve been extra gentle with him lately, and it makes him sigh. This would be easier if you hated each other. But that’s the farthest thing from the truth.

Soft hands rub the moisturizer into his skin, delicately caressing his scar, and when he opens his eyes again, you’re smiling and looking how he wants to remember you. His lovely girl, who holds his rage like someone should’ve held his 9-year-old self running away from home. His hands settle around your hips, holding onto you until he can’t anymore and Luke wonders if there was any prophecy out there that could’ve told him that he’d always be running home to you. He just has to take the long way home this time. 

By morning, you might not look at him with this much love, and he’s not even sure you’ll forgive him, so he pulls you into a kiss so deep that even Kronos’s attacks on his mind can’t pull him away.

“Mmmm,” you moan, gasping for air as he continues the assault down your neck, marking you with his lips so you have something to remember him by, “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s gotten into you, angelface?” If only you knew.

“Can’t help it baby, you’ve got a face I’d go to war for,” he mutters, pressing another kiss to your lips, “and a heart I’d die for.” He’s smiling into your cheek, but his expression falters for a moment when you look into his golden-flecked eyes.

Maybe you know more than you let on, awareness cognizant in your features. The jig is up, and he’s ready for you to call him out on it—but a half smile falls upon your face instead, and for some reason, this feels like the inevitable goodbye. There was never much you two could hide from each other after all.

“I know it’s been hard lately, Luke. But let me take your pain away. Please,” and it sounds almost like you’re begging.

The both of you are a little guilty tonight, hearts heavy and conscious of what this means for the both of you, hoping that your actions will suffice as the coercion, the explanation, the apology— instead of the unspoken truth that will come to light when you wake. 

___

[ if you need to be mean, be mean to me || i can take it and put it inside of me ]

Both of you are more desperate tonight, bodies moving languidly like you have all the time in the world. It’s a conversation in itself as he ruts into you, trying to stuff you to the brim so you won’t forget what it’s like to feel him in your bones. 

‘Promise you’ll remember me.’

Here, in the confines of cabin 12, you are his alone, and there are no gods or monsters that can take away the feeling of you from under his fingertips. Yours are grasping onto his arms, leaving crescent-shaped indents as you will away whatever’s eating at his brain, and through the golden glint of his irises, for a moment he looks like himself again, unburdened and soft. 

‘Is there any other way?’

He’s convinced your wanton moans are his salvation, legs thrown over his shoulders, and his name in your mouth. You’re hanging onto him for dear life as he melts into you, and you wonder if you hold on any tighter, maybe this won’t have to end. But the both of you are chasing an inescapable conclusion, obstructing any thoughts or words with another tangle of your lips. 

‘I don’t know how to be without you.’

Tongues clashing like swords for one last battle, and there’s no winner at the end of this one, no matter how good it feels.

“Luke, p-please!” 

The scream rattles your throat and his fingers graze your pulsepoint as he moans lowly, watching your eyes roll back. It’s undetermined what you’re asking for, but the both of you bask in what comes after, him falling into your embrace as you writhe at the thought of wondering if this is the only glory you can offer him and if it’s enough to satiate his inherent need for revenge. 

‘How do you expect me to forget you?’

___

[ if your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room || you can lean on my arm as you break my heart ||  just don’t leave me alone wondering where you are ]

'You could fix him.'

The thought echoes loudly in your head as Kronos’ orders recalibrate in his brain, the edges blurred from your powers, and he stares up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling as he lets out a deep breath. 

His mind is clearer than it’s been in months, and his gaze turns to see you watching him, messy hair framing your sleepy face. Your eyelids flutter slowly as you both take each other in, immortalizing this moment with both of you hoping the other will change their mind. Luke pulls your hand to his lips, kissing each of your fingertips before holding it over his heart. If there was anything else you could do to extract his madness, you’ve already exhausted all your efforts. And if there was a way to make you see his perspective, he’s run out of words to convince you. Both of you are stubborn and more like your fathers than you care to admit; what a shame that neither of you has the power to prove them wrong. The fear is the only thing keeping you both awake now.

If you close your eyes, you might never see him again. 

“You need to rest now, baby. Think I’m gonna stay up for a little while longer,” Luke whispers into the dim light.

“Are you gonna stay here tonight?” The words slur from your lips as you fight the weight of your eyelids, desperate for a moment longer with your lover. You hope that even as you lose consciousness you’ll still be able to finish the job for his sake.

“There’s nowhere else I’d be, Trouble.”

___

[ i am stronger than you give me credit for ]

As soon as he’s sure you’re asleep, he lifts your hand off his heart and sneaks out from under your covers without a sound. Pulling his clothes on and grabbing his converse, Luke makes sure there’s no trace left of him here. It’ll be easier for you when you wake up, less of his mess to pick up after. He looks around your room and admires how it’s a museum of your relationship—a liberty he was never able to have or fully share with you in cabin 11.

Surely that’s the gods’ fault too, that he’s never had anything to call his own besides you and the space you share with him wholeheartedly. His fingers hover over the photos of you two tacked to your bulletin board, and the flowers he picked from the field sitting in a vase. Luke turns to you, creeping to your sleeping figure, and tucks you in properly under the duvet, hands seamlessly making his side of the bed. He tries to ignore your outstretched hand resting on his pillow.

At the very least, Luke hopes you know that he cares for you so meticulously in this way, knowing that he’s about to lose himself as soon as he walks off the campgrounds. He hovers over the foot of your bed, inhaling the scent of berries and linen for one last time.

“It’s you and me, Trouble. I love you.”

Every step he takes towards the door and down the stairs of your loft is a nail in his coffin.

Luke chooses to wage war upon the world so that when you find him again, he’ll be a better man. 

A hero. 

All for you. 

He just hopes that he can see it through.

___

“To make her happy, I would invent God if I had to.” -Marguerite Duras

next part: lovers, or partners in crime

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (struck out won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

[bunnys-kisses]

Hey! May I please have mille-feuille with coffee and a shot of vodka, with Carlos? Love the bakery concept!

the bakery menu

the bakery is still open! feel free to check out the main post and get your own order today! as for this, thank you so much for the order! i've been finding that a lot of people have a sweet sport for mr. sainz, haha! especially the rivals trope! i wanted to make this a little different from the other rivals concept i was suggested! thank you! thank you! thank you!

mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + coffee (rivals) + shot of vodka (rough sex)

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, rough sex, bratty!reader, punishments, brat taming, driver!reader & driver!carlos, mean!reader & carlos, drunk sex, alcohol & drinking, biting/hickies

everyone did rivals in formula one. it was the alluring storyline for the watcher. but to do it with the first permanent female driver in a long time was maybe not the most wise choice. you were the people's princess of formula one racing.

a voice for all women who wanted to make their mark in the sport. a beacon of light, a shining example of a great driver. to hate you to an extent, was a hate towards all women.

carlos wanted you to shut that little mouth of yours.

"oh yeah, carlos? you think that you could make a woman cum? be fucking for real." you howled in laughter. there weren't many drivers left in the bar.

he had his cheek pressed against his hand as he took another sip of his beer, "you don't think i could make a woman cum?"

you shrugged, "i don't think you could if you tried. like you'd get between her legs and look confused. i'm pretty sure you could name all the parts of your car easier than you could the anatomy of a woman."

your teammate, max cut in with his hand on your shoulder, "i think you need to let this go." you looked at him and he was painfully drunk as well.

you turned back to the ferrari driver.

carlos looked to his own teammate, charles, who at some point put his face on the wooden table and just fallen asleep. carlos said to you, "see, your point is so boring it put charles to sleep."

you didn't have a verbal comeback so you just flipped him off. and did carlos want to pin you down to the nearest surface and spank the hell out of your ass, get that bratty attitude out of you

you and carlos continued to bicker, your volume only getting louder with the deeper the conversation went and the more drunk you got.

max stared up at the ceiling for a moment and sighed. in his own drunken state he said, "why don't you two go back to your hotel, and see. and you can report back to us tomorrow."

"that sounds fair." carlos said.

you raised an eyebrow, "you're going to make me cum, carlos?" then tipped your head to the side.

carlos smiled, "well, of course. shouldn't be too hard. or are you worried you might be wrong?"

you reached across the table to carlos and he met you halfway to shake your hand, "may the best driver win then, sainz."

"you too." he said with a knowing smirk.

-

when you ended up in your hotel room, his lips were on yours. his large hands were palming your breasts through your redbull branded t-shirt. he pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours, "we're not stopping until you cum or the sun comes up."

you laughed and held his face to look at you, "well then, i hope you enjoy driving tomorrow with no sleep." then you went back to viciously making out with him.

his hands were on your hips soon after, trying to get your pants off of you. he groaned against your lips and muttered something to himself before you two broke away and you started to get undressed. even the amount of kissing felt too intimate for your liking.

"i hope you're okay with racing with a sore back." carlos replied as he got his shirt off. he caught you admiring him for a moment, which only inflated his ego before the rest of the clothes came off.

your brain was a buzz as you got all your clothes off and stood there naked in the hotel room. "how are we gonna do this?" you asked with your arms across your chest.

carlos took in the sight of you, "well, how does the princesa feel about being on her hands and knees. or is she too good for that?"

"you're a dick, carlos."

"i'm a dick!" he said as he got closer to you, "you're a little brat. like a snippy little dog that's always gotten her way. i think you made those comments so you could have sex with me."

"i could kill you."

"but you'll fuck me instead right, princesa?"

you two ended up on the bed, but carlos had to strength to pin you down on your knees with your front pushed into the pillows. he put your arms behind your back to keep you still.

"hitting me was not in the deal." he remarked, his voice close to your ear. his erection rubbed up against your slick pussy. you liked this, you liked when he bit back.

maybe that's what you were a little dog looking for something or someone to put you in your place.

"i'm not gonna cum like this." you said.

"i think you're wrong there. i think you are really liking this." he said, his tone was venomous that sent lust through you. you hated how good he sounded.

he sank his cock into you without much fanfare, “that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”

"shut up, sainz." you groaned as you felt him bound by his hand on your wrists. the other hand on your hip to give him leverage to fuck your sweet cunt.

the thrusts of his hips were hard and pushed you further into the pillows. your back arched and you whined into the pillows. you felt heat in your cheeks as he quickly fucked you.

it was rough, it was messy as the sounds of your bodies moved out of sync on the bed. it was a power struggle that carlos was winning. you hated that there was pleasure pooling in your body the more he thrusted into you.

he held you by the arms and bullied his cock into you. he was easily using you like a toy and all you had was your iron resolve that you wouldn't cum. but as you felt the dampness of sweat on your neck and the heat between your legs, it was getting harder.

"do you like that?" he asked as he continued to fuck you, "oh, is someone mad that they're liking this?" usually he tried to romance his sexual partners, but it was hard when he had so much liquor in his system. you two were filthy fucking, it was messy and hot. he could feel the sweat on his skin as he continued to thrust up into you.

"fuck you, carlos." you tilted your head back to look at him. the angle made you get a head rush.

he curled further over you and heavily made out with you. you whined at the stretch and it made you core hot. you could feel the tightness in your stomach as he fucking demolished you.

when the kiss broke you dropped your head back down onto the bed and let him keep you pinned down. he continued to move, eventually finding a place to leave bites on your neck.

you whined and said, "oh fuck, you possessive fuck!" you squirmed but couldn't get too far.

"i want them to know what i've done to you. i want charles and max to see the marks tomorrow morning and know exactly what we did."

"please, carlos. shit, shit." you panted. you couldn't really think straight anymore. in the attempt to deny your own orgasm, you were lost in the pleasure.

"i knew it." he said, "i knew you'd love this. fuck, i knew it." he panted as he felt his own orgasm come to a head. he almost bottomed out into you.

something inside of you broke as you felt the orgasm crash over you. there was no holding it back. you laid there slacked jaw and let carlos continue to fuck you until he pulled out and finished on your back.

he didn't want to give you the pleasure of him dumping his cum into you. maybe next time. if you were good. he slowed down to a stop and chuckled to himself, "you came."

"shut up."

"you finished. i knew you did."

"i could've been faking." you fought back.

"no, no." he said as he grabbed tissues off the nightstand to at least clean you up, "i know that was real, i won our little bet."

you huffed, not happy that you lost, "best two out of three." you remarked. it was almost childish, but you refused to lose to carlos sainz jr.

-

the following morning, you refused to look your teammate in the eye. even at the media pen. max noticed that the collar of your shirt was a little higher than how you normally kept it. but when you went to scratch the side of you neck, he get a glimpse of the damage that carlos had done.

max mentally cursed and tried to remember how much cash was in his wallet. he owed charles some money. at least you were a lot more nicer at the paddock that morning, so maybe he should be thanking carlos.

you looked over to max and raised your eyes at him. max gestured to your neck and you made a face before you mouth, "speak and you're dead." before you were all smiles to the camera.

this wouldn't be the last time max would find marks on your neck. and years later he'd have to act surprise when it came out you were dating carlos.

[barcaatthemoon]

harmless || alexia putellas x reader ||

you do a little harmless flirting with alexia when your teams play against each other's.

playing against barcelona felt like a dream come true. so much about this year's champion's league tournament was like that. this was the first one that you were getting to play in with your team, the one that you had been signed to since you could sign a senior contract. you were loyal, having absolutely no intentions of going elsewhere in the world to play. although, barcelona had made some very convincing offers to you.

your teammates and coaches were grateful that you had declined, despite your agent's urgency towards you signing elsewhere. you were crazy to give up barcelona, especially since there was so much for you to learn from them. the way that they played soccer had always fascinated you to no end, it felt far more efficient than anything you could think to do.

"hola," you greeted alexia in the tunnel. she glanced over at you, a small smile on her face. "i'm (y/n)."

"i know, i've seen you play before. you're very good," alexia complimented. you blushed at her compliment, turning your head away in a feeble attempt to hide it.

"thank you. you're also very good, like the best in the world," you told her. alexia had a little smirk on her face, but you could see the way her ears got pink. for a moment, you thought that she looked a little unfocused, and you got an idea. "i didn't think it was possible to see such beauty and talent in one person."

alexia forced herself to keep her eyes off of you. you felt a little smug as you walked out of the tunnel. whenever you had to shake alexia's hand before the game, you shot her a wink, one that didn't go unnoticed by a couple of her teammates. immediately, alexia got extremely flustered, only boostering your confidence for the game.

you were no stranger to playing some mind games. flirting with alexia whenever the two of you met up in the midfield was easy. it was even easier whenever the two of you ended up marking each other for a corner. alexia was bigger than you, so she should have won the challenge, but all you had to do was let out a gasp when she grabbed at your hips for her to back away.

you felt like you were getting away with everything when frido cornered you at halftime. she walked right up to you and pushed at your shoulder to get your attention. "what the fuck is all that with alexia?"

"there's nothing going on with alexia." there was no point in you even trying to deny it. frido knew you well enough to know exactly what was going on. she gave you a stern look, one that had you almost shrinking back into yourself. "fine, i might be flirting with your captain a little, but a little flirting never hurt anybody."

"do not start something that you don't intend to see through, okay? she's going through a hard time right now, and you playing with her feelings today isn't going to help. she's already beating herself up for having a 'bad game' because of your bullshit, kid," frido warned. you agreed to back off, and followed her over to apologize to alexia.

"hey," you greeted alexia cautiously.

"hola, shouldn't you be with your team?" alexia questioned. you shrugged. there was going to be a pep talk, one that would hopefully help you to kick some ass, but the pep talks were not your duty anymore.

"they'll be fine, i don't give the pep talks," you told her. alexia nodded as she pointed over towards her bench. you noticed that a group of the younger players were working to hype up everybody else. "i'm not making you uncomfortable, am i?"

"not so much uncomfortable as you are a distraction," alexia confessed. you smirked a little, genuinely surprised that alexia would get distracted by you of all people. "it'd really help if you maybe saved it for somewhere else. i mean, i am trying to work here."

"well, i'm just repaying the favor. you're pretty distracting too," you teased. alexia huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"i'm not trying to, you are. you have got to stop trying to distract me while i'm at work," alexia countered. your face fell for a moment as you realized that she had a point. "maybe if you behave, i'll buy you dinner tonight."

"alright, but i want to see the best that barcelona's got to offer," you said. alexia agreed to those terms, unaware that you were literally just talking about her.

…

"are you sure that this is where we have to end this?" you asked alexia with a small pout on your face. while her team went out to celebrate their win, alexia had opted to take you to dinner instead. you didn't have a lot of hope for a long distance relationship, but you were still a little optimistic. there was something about alexia that made you want to make things work.

"you have an early flight tomorrow, and i do not like sex on the first date," alexia told you. she cradled your face in her hands and ran her thumb across your bottom lip. "i will see you again, yes?"

"definitely," you promised her. alexia smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. you eagerly shot forward a little, but alexia kept you from pushing her backwards. "are you sure that you can't come up for a little while?"

"frido warned me you were relentless," alexia laughed. your face quickly fell as you tried to think of all the things that frido might have told alexia. the woman had known you since you could practically kick a soccer ball, and you had no doubt that if you stepped out of line, she wouldn't hesitate to embarrass you with alexia. "be good while you're away for me."

"i guess i can try to stay out of trouble," you huffed. alexia pressed a kiss to your forehead before she walked away from you. your hotel was pretty close to her apartment, something that you had learned when alexia came to pick you up for dinner. you knew that it'd be a few dates, but you couldn't wait for her to take you back to her place.

[euthymiya]

friendly reminder ft. scar

you might have helped your boyfriend escape his jail cell, but that still doesn’t mean you’re done being mad at him for flirting with another girl

contents: fem reader ; spoilers for main quest—mentions of rover and scar interactions, mentions of reader helping scar escape jail ; established relationship ; reader is part of the fractsidus ; reader and scar are both low key toxic in a way that almost balances each other out to be healthy LOL. they are in love, just in crazy ways ; reader is not rover. in fact, she’s rather jealous of rover and scar loves it ; hand jobs—his cock zipper LIVES ; cum eating ; reader sits on scar’s lap ; not proof read pretend there are no mistakes if you stumble across one

“you’re awfully affectionate today,” scar chuckles, relishing in the trail of your lips along his face. they map out the marks that permanently reside along his skin, trekking the familiar path from one to another as you meet each destination. “i take it that means i’ve been missed?”

“hardly,” you grumble. but your actions say otherwise as your lips find his neck, kissing along the path to his pulse point, biting down and making him shiver happily at the pain.

“oh, i’m sure that’s true,” he snorts, humming happily at the way your teeth graze his skin.

it’s sure to leave a mark—and it’s on purpose. you’re lips aren’t there to reward him, or to shower him in your usual fondness. this time, it’s a reminder. it’s to make sure he knows you’re the one—the only one who can touch him like this.

“i think you should be more affectionate,” you glower, lips pulling away from him to form a sweet, precious little pout. it warms his heart, enough that he doesn’t miss the press of them against his skin as much as he normally would now that he gets to see that perfect little curl of your mouth. “i rescued you out of prison, you know.”

scar is never shy with his affection—but that doesn’t always mean he’s generous with it. sometimes, he withholds. just to be teasing, just to make you ache for it, just to be a bit cruel. it’s never enough to go too far, but it’s just enough to let him have his fun.

you don’t usually mind it. not until he seems to be generous with someone else.

“well now,” he drawls his words, almost like he’s playing a sick, twisted game. you think he is, watching him narrow his eyes in amusement as he leans closer, hovering his lips just above yours as he says, “rescue is a bit of a strong word, don’t you think? of course, i’d be fine escaping on my own, but needing a little aid here and there holds no shame, hm?”

you pull back as he leans even closer, not letting him feel the satisfaction of your lips against his own, glaring at him as you huff. you’re thoroughly unimpressed, and you want it known. (of course, all things considered, it’s a rather soft glare—as aggravating as scar can be, he’s easier to love than he is to be infuriated with. you know he knows it too, if the smug tug of his lips speaks for anything. still, you’re not pleased, and you think he should be made abundantly aware regardless).

“i could’ve left you in there,” you purse your lips, “stuck in that cell with hardly enough food and water because of that girl you’re so interested in.”

“oh?” he quirks a brow with a gleam in his eyes—so excited, so enthused by the prospect of your bitterness as you sulk, “is that jealousy i see on that beautiful face? oh my, we can’t have that, can we, my dear?”

“oh, am i your dear? i distinctly remember you calling her that too,” you huff, pulling back from him as you cross your arms.

he stops you, arms wrapping around your back and pulling him up his lap to press against his chest, closer and closer and even closer, until his mouth is back to being millimeters away from yours, hot breath fanning over you and sending goosebumps along your skin. he’s evil, too—traces the raised bumps with a delicate finger along your arm, chuckling at the way you shiver slightly.

“oh, this simply won’t do,” he pouts theatrically, “i didn’t think you’d take that so personally, sweetheart. you understand, don’t you? i was just trying to earn her trust.”

“hmph,” you turn away from him, looking off to the side stubbornly as you add, “i didn’t realize you’d have to have a happy little date, as i recall it, in order to earn trust. is her trust really all you want?”

“why, of course,” he gasps, hands cupping your face to bring your gaze back on him, his palms squeezing your cheeks together as your lips slightly pucker from the action, “how could i ever have it in me to want someone else when i have such a precious sight right before me? hm?”

that’s the thing about scar. so nice when he wants to be, so good with words, so easy to drip saccharine promises from his tongue like honey—sweet enough to mask the lethal taste of venom. one drop is all it takes to kill you. one drop is all it takes to weaken you to be his prey.

but you like it. you like this sick, twisted little game he plays. you like him when he makes you want him so bad, you long for a girl you’ve never even met to drop dead for ever getting fractionally close to him—even if it was all under a facade.

scar is never shy about his affections, but he makes you work for them. makes you earn them as he dangles them over your head. but you’re just as stubborn as he is cruel, never scared to make him earn your affections just as much as he makes you earn his.

you hum in thought, hand trailing down to his crotch as you trace along the zipper over his cock. he’s already semi-hard, much to your satisfaction. he doesn’t have the shame to seem embarrassed by it, either—grinning wider as he stares into you with a darkened glint in his eyes.

“i should’ve left you in that jail cell,” you mutter.

he pouts, so theatric as he leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. “don’t break my heart. i thought about you every second i was stuck in there, you know? it hurts my feelings when you say such cruel things.”

“oh does it?” you ask flatly, tracing the outline of his hardening erection through his pants. he hums and nods, letting out a soft, breathy moan as your palm at his clothed cock. “tell me something. would you kill her for me?”

“how extreme. that would be quite a shame,” he laughs, “she could be so useful, you know?”

you press the heel of your palm harder into him, earning a grunt as his hands grip your waist tightly with closed eyes. “would you?” you insist.

he opens his eyes to meet yours, dark with lust, sparkling with unyielding affection as he breathes, “of course. but you know that already, don’t you?”

you do. scar would kill anything—anyone. you like that. cherish it, even. blood would spill and life would drain before your love could die, and you like it that way. marvel in it. how satisfying it is, to have a man like him under your thumb, so intent to cross his already nonexistent lines just for you.

“good,” you finally smile, rewarding him with a proper kiss. he smiles himself against your mouth, letting you swallow his moans as your hand undoes the zipper over his crotch, pulling his hard, flushed cock free from its confinements as you slowly smear the precum along the swollen tip with your thumb.

he groans, biting your lip before he murmurs, “i missed this too in that cold little jail cell of mine. i missed how warm you always feel around me.”

your hand wraps around the thick girth, pumping the hot, velvety flesh as it twitches slightly in your hand. the filthy, squelching sound of your wet strokes mix with his low moans, a satisfying sound to your ears as you watch his face slack with pleasure, mouth parting to make the noises he knows inflate your ego.

scar is shameless enough to be loud, at least. it works both to your advantage and disadvantage at times. it’s certainly something you appreciate when you hear the proof of his pleasure, right there as the sounds bleed into you against your ear with hot breaths. but sometimes, when he takes you in not so hidden places, so risky and so dangerous of being caught, you appreciate his shamelessness a little less.

he’s never bothered by it, though. you think he’d love it, even, if anyone were to witness him fuck into you—so utterly careless of anything else other than having you as his.

his. because you do love being his, as difficult and infuriating as it might be.

“fuck, you always feel so good too,” he continues. he’s always so talkative, even when he’s dangerously at risk of cutting himself off with breathy, labored groans. you lean in, kissing along the scar of his left cheek as he whispers, “you feel that, don’t you? how hard i am just for you. what is there to be jealous of, sweetheart?”

“you should only be having dates with me,” you squeeze his cock tighter as you huff the words, stroking along his length quicker, earning a choked sound from him as he digs his fingers into your hips harder—it’s almost bruising. “the only one you should be calling my dear is me.”

“oh but you’re just so cute when you’re mad,” he pants through his laughs, closing his eyes and letting his forehead fall to your shoulder, humming before he bites into you as he muffles his sounds, “i can’t help myself. it’s nothing personal, okay? just a little good fun, that’s all.”

“i hate you,” you say petulantly.

you don’t. that’s why your other hand cards through his sweaty locks as his orgasm approaches quicker and quicker, the thick, pulsing cock in your hand twitching in your hold as he gasps, “oh now you’re really hurting my feelings. how can you say something so, so harsh?”

“i hate her too,” you say darkly.

he cums at that. like witnessing your jealousy gets him off, like hearing the pure hatred in your voice excites him until thick, hot ropes of cum release from his swollen tip, coating your hand as you stroke him through his high. he groans, a labored call of your name falling from his lips as he bucks into your fist.

you like the sound of your name on his lips. he sounds so good like that, strained from his own pleasure, so sickeningly smitten as he utters the syllables of your name like it’s his favorite word.

he says it so pretty. so sweetly. so affectionately.

one thing’s for certain—you know he’s never, ever said her name like this.

“look at you,” he coos once he’s done spilling into your hand, catching his breath as his head pulls way from your shoulder. your good hand is still in his hair, pulling it slightly to angle it up to meet your face as he grins and teases, “aren’t you lovely? rewarding me even when you’re mad at me.”

you bring your cum coated fingers to your lips, licking a stripe of his release off your hand before you reply, “just reminding you that no one could make you feel like this.”

“oh, sweetheart,” he tugs you closer, brushing your crotch against his still hardened cock as you gasp, “i could never, ever forget. don’t you worry, my dear.”

a) rover is cool and all but scar seems like he wants her so bad and it simultaneously is kind of hot but also kind of infuriating like you’re mine sir

b) a reader who’s low key crazy like him is the kind of trope i need. someone who will stab him and then kiss him, you feel me?

c) i need his cock zipper back i’m very mad they got rid of it. and i also need to see his cock too. i am, of course, disappointed as neither have happened so. :(

[suppose-i-was-worm]

Like A Lamb

**Idea taken from @nerdpoe's post- What the hell is this "Infinite Realms"?**

John Constantine would never call himself a kind man, much less a good man, but the kid at the corner table of this fast food restaurant was making him want to be both.

Not that John’s kindness would really help the kid, in the long run.

He’d seen so many things in all the time he’d been alive- wondrous and horrific in equal measure, but this boy- this teenager, barely out of childhood, was probably the most heart-breaking.

John had known sacrifices- marked by both men and demons. He’d seen the crumpled bodies after the fact, and sometimes he’d been able to save them beforehand. None of them were like this boy. Marked like a sacrificial lamb down to his bones by the universe- an inevitable end.

The teen was the beginning and the end of worlds- his death would shake the foundations of all that was, could be, and is. Time would stutter to a stop before restarting with a different beat, and John could do nothing to delay or stop what was coming.

How in the world could this kid still smile and laugh with his friends? How could he not feel the weight of an entire reality on his shoulders? If John, sitting across a dining room from him, could feel the pressure, why wasn’t the boy buckling under it?

John’s phone alerted him to a text from Zatanna- he was needed by the JLD.

With a sigh, he fished out the strongest protection amulet he had on him. It wouldn’t save the teen, but maybe it would make the rest of his life a little easier.

The kid looked up at him as he approached, all smiles and young innocence. John Constantine thrust the amulet into his hand and then turned, stalking out of the Nasty Burger.

He needed to tell the Justice League. Amity Park needed protection- there was a kid there whose death would change the world.

~~~

Danny flipped the little charm around in his hands, trying to figure it out. The sad trenchcoat man had handed it to him before leaving, and he had no idea why.

“What do you think it is, Danny?”

He shrugged. For some reason he didn’t want to hand it over to Sam for her to inspect it.

“Dunno. It feels important, though. I might take it to Pandora- she’s been teaching me a bit of magic stuff, so she can probably parse it out.”

For some reason, Danny knew he would recognize that man again if he ever saw him, despite only having looked at him for a moment. Something in his core rumbled contently as he tucked the amulet carefully into the back of his phone case.

The next few weeks, Danny found himself having suspiciously good luck. The food at home didn’t come to life, ghosts didn’t attack as much, Dash wasn’t a problem at school, and even the Fentons hadn’t been as insistent on catching Phantom.

That was another weird thing- His brain didn’t seem to compute that Jack and Maddie were his mom and dad anymore. He knew he’d been creeping toward that ever since his death, but it was like a switch had been flipped overnight. The Fenton adults no longer registered as his parents.

Finally he had a chance to slip into the Realms and head for Pandora, who took one look at the amulet he held out to her and laughed.

“You have been adopted, young one, and your core accepted.”

“Adopted?”

“Your nature is to protect- it sings in your blood and guides your instincts. An adult offered you protection, a safe haven, and you took them up on it. Had someone your own age done the same, your relationship with them would be vastly different.”

Danny frowned at the charm, but he didn’t put it down- it didn’t even occur to him to get rid of it.

“Why did he- what made him do that?”

Pandora ruffled his hair.

“He saw someone who needed protecting, I assume, and acted as he ought.”

~~~

“Bats, I don’t know what the Infinite Realms are. Yes, I know they exist. I just don’t know when they started to exist, and when my knowledge of the afterlife became outdated.”

Batman glared, and John rolled his eyes at the other man.

“Magic shit happens all the time. Zatanna can tell you just as well as I can that the Realms didn’t exist a year ago- and also that they’ve existed for millenia.”

“I’ve found a summoning spell for the king of the realms, but it requires a magic user. Zatanna is off-planet, so you’re up.”

John looked over at the speaker, Red Robin, whose slight form and dark hair made him think of the boy he’d left to die.

He’d thought of the boy more often than not- any research into the kind of sacrifice that would have so much power came to a dead end, and John Constantine hated that there was really and truly nothing he could do for the kid.

Maybe this Infinite Realms person might know something?

“Fine. What are the details?”

Red Robin perked up and handed over a heavy tome.

“Batman and I already set up the ritual space in the conference room, and a few other heroes are there to help out if the king is hostile.”

“Of course you have. Let’s go, then.”

The two bats swept off down the hallway, and John followed behind, studying the spell he would need to cast. It was fairly simple, and luckily wouldn’t require blood. He hated the ones that required blood.

As he stood over the sigils and spoke the ritual spells, the floor inside the protective circle began to writhe and bubble a toxic neon green. It was all John could do to stand straight as a rush of air spilled from the portal into the wide room, bringing with it the heavy taste of caution.

The Justice League took a step back as the first clawed hand reached out from the green, white and stretched beyond humanity. It scrabbled for purchase before finding it and pulling.

The creature that exited the swirling mass was something John had never seen before. If the situation wasn’t so tense, he might describe the creature as catlike, with a black body and white legs, as well as piercing green eyes. The similarities stopped, however, when the inky body flickered and lit up from within with the pinpricks of millions of stars and endless void.

This was a baby god, filled with the dreams of deities long forgotten and fueled by the hope of those still clinging on to life.

Its green eyes swept over the gathered heroes before coming to rest on John, and for a moment he felt as if his tattered soul was being judged by the cosmos.

And then the creature folded in on itself, the tense air around it changing from bitter caution to sweet relief, and John found himself face to face with the teenager from Amity Park.

“Hi.”

The boy sounded winded, but happy, and he reached inside his shirt to pull out a small chain necklace. John’s amulet was hanging off it, obviously well treasured and cared for.

“Did you know that you’re technically my dad now?”

Something on John’s face must have told the boy- the god, the sacrifice both dead and alive- that he was unaware of this fact. The kid shuffled a little, looking sheepishly at the floor.

“You- uh. Unintentionally offered safe haven. And I accepted without realizing what was going on, and- it’s weird. I collected your soul for you! Didn’t bring it with me, but I’ve got the pieces you’re missing.”

“I think you both need to sit down and discuss this.”

Bless Diana.

“Can you leave the circle, young one?”

The teen beamed at Diana and stepped out of the protective circle, smudging the sigils as he did and closing the portal.

“I can, yeah. Pandora says hi, by the way.”

John watched as the boy chattered away about his ghost friends to Diana while she led him to a seat, and then sighed, moving to join them. If he needed help with being a new dad, surely Bats could help, right?

[werecreature-addicted]

Do you mind doing an NSFW alphabet for jock werewolf? :^

Aftercare(what they’re like after sex)

He's bad, if he bit you or hit you too hard he'll clean up any bad injuries but if you're not bleeding, or bruised, he's leaving basically as soon as his knot goes down. if he's had a long game he'll lie down with you for a little while and cuddle for a little bit. he's sweeter when he's tired.

Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partners)

he loves your eyes, he likes how wide they get when you're surprised or how pretty you look when you cry. on him he likes his arms and hands, they're big and veiny, he knows you like how they look and he's more than happy to flex for you, or wrap those big arms around your neck.

Cum (anything to do with cum…basically, I’m a disgusting person)

He either cums inside of you, knotting you and blowing his load deep in you, or he's cumming on your face and hair, the bigger mess he makes the better, he likes humiliating you.

Dirty secret  (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Panty Fetish. He steals your dirty underwear to smell as he jerks off, or cum in your underwear and makes you wear them all day with his wet cum pressing against you all day long, sticky and uncomfortable. Once he stuffed your underwear in your mouth as a makeshift gag and he whispers in your ear asking you if you like tasting yourself while he fucks you.

Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's hot! He's popular! he's got a big dick! he gets around. He's got plenty of experience.

Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Doggy or collapsed doggy. he likes being in control and shoving your head down as he fucks you from behind and spanks you. Sometimes he gets lazy and makes you ride him but he gets impatient pretty quick and rolls you over so he can fuck you at a faster pace. He also likes fucking you against a wall, holding you up with your legs over his arms while he drops you down on his cock over and over again.

Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He loves to tease you and will laugh if you do anything silly. A little humor doesn't kill the mood for him.

Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

Look me in the eye. He's a werewolf. every inch of him is covered in thick dark hair. his "bush" is a full jungle, he's not going to shave and no one on earth can make him. He showers a lot though, so at least all that hair is clean.

Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

 Again, I think we all know my thoughts on how romantic he is. He might make you say "I love you" but that's only to make fun of you. He loves to kiss with tongue so that's kind of romantic, I guess. If you're looking for flowers and candles, he is not your man.

Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He jacks off pretty often. He's got a high sex drive and sometimes it's just easier to take care of it himself. He almost always takes a video of him stroking himself to send to you, You can always tell when he's horny and jerking himself off because your phone is blowing up. Not just videos and pictures but texts detailing what he wants to do with your pretty body and begging for pictures or at least a few dirty texts he can use to get off.

Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He's a huge Sadist, who loves to degrade, humiliate, and hurt. He doesn't like floggers or whips, he usually only hits you with the palm of his hand.

Marking, obviously, he likes to bite you and leave hickeys. but writing too, he'll write "whore" or "bitch" across your face or chest with makeup or markers. Just to claim you as his a little more

Breeding/ creampies, again werewolf, what do you want from me

Dacraphilia, like I said earlier, he loves to make you cry whether it be from pain or pleasure.

Slight corruption/innocence kink. for him it's not so much about taking your innocence as it is, other people think you're demure and pure while you slut yourself out for him and show him how dirty you really are.

Exobisinism and public sex, tied back to the innocence thing, he likes stopping away your public image as a shy little nerd and revealing how depraved you're willing to be for him. and he knows he's hot, he likes showing off his big cock and how well he can make you cum.

Location (Favourite places to do the do)

The school locker room or the back of his car

Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Whenever he's had a good game or a solid workout when the adrenaline is running high. it also gets him hot seeing you sweating, even if it's just a hot day out. Also, well, he's a werewolf, he does go into Ruts, when he's in heat like that breathing in the wrong way will get him hard.

NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He's pretty open to experiment, but he doesn't like toys. He like deep, raw, primal sex. Not cheap vibrators or fuzzy pink handcuffs. God help you if he catches you with a dildo, what? his cock isn't good enough for you? You need some silicone bullshit? he's going to murder you in the bedroom tonight.

Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Receiving. almost exclusively receiving. He loves the way you suck his cock. He will eat you out if you aren't wet enough for his liking, or if he really fucked up and needs to make it up you. Or really, if you're too tempting for him to resist getting a taste of you. So... really it's like 50/50

Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Rough and hard. he's fast, chasing his orgasm eagerly and openly from the second he sinks into you. the only time he really slows down is if he's teasing you and edging you.

Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Loves a quickie. He'll pull you into a semi-private space to fuck you in between classes or when you have a free moment. something fast and rough, just how he likes it.

Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He's mostly willing to try anything you're into and he's typically the kind of guy who would try anything once. However, asking is the hardest part. He will never give in right away, instead teasing you and mocking you for wanting to try out something so gross and kinky, even if you're just telling him you have a praise kink. Eventually, though he gives in and starts experimenting with whatever it is you wanted to try. If he's not into it, he'll just tell you it's not his thing, and you're a freak for wanting to try it out. If he likes it, all mockery stops and he just acts like nothing happened as he integrates this new kink into playtime.

Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

 His stamina isn't bad but it's nothing superhuman or anything. With his knot, you sort of have a forced break in between rounds but he can usually go two or three rounds before he gets tired. and he lasts a good while, at least long enough to make you cum. if you want to try out "stamina practice" he'd be down.

Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

like I said toys are not for him. he doesn't like to use them on you or himself really. if you convince him to try bondage he might get some ropes or restraints but that's the closest he gets.

Unfair (How much they like to tease)

:) if you are interested in how much the werewolf jock bully likes to tease please check out other entries in this series. No, but seriously, he lives to mock and deride you. He loves to deny you orgasms and make you beg like a bitch in heat for his fingers or his dick.

Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He's not loud but he's mouthy. Always muttering something dirty in your ear while he fucks you. He snarls and growls too especially when he's close to cumming.

Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He claims to sleep around a lot and have a bunch of people on his roster but usually, if he finds a good fuck who can tolerate his annoying personality and high sex drive he stays with them for a long time and only sleeps with them. So he might tell you that you're lucky he called you up this time, or that he's busy fucking some other chick. he's lying, he's only sleeping with you right now.

X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Red and veiny with a pointed tip he presses right against your cervix. He's around 10-11.5 inches when he's hard his knot takes up the lower 1/4th of his cock, huge hairy balls that are always full of hot werewolf cum for you to take,

Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

very high. he likes to have sex at least once a day but prefers more than that. if he has it his way he'll be fucking you 4 or 5 times a day but you have "responsibilities" or whatever. when he's in heat if he's not dead asleep he's thinking about sex and craving it, even then he might have a wet dream and wake up needy and desperate.

ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

a good orgasm makes him sleepy, especially if he's already tired from something else, but usually he doesn't fall asleep right after sex, especially because he usually likes to fuck in locker rooms and secluded parts of the woods. not ideal napping spots.

[masonmontz]

heey everyone, how are you? :)

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

smut (unprotected sex, praise) word count: 2,5k

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“Oh… fuck.” Mason groaned as he came and leaned his head against the cold wall from the locker room bathroom, while still making light movements in his dick. Mason got goosebumps, he really wanted it to be your hand there. “Fuck.”

It was torturous having you massage his leg in physical therapy, no one would understand how horny you made Mason. He had just played the first half and was left alone in the locker room to take a cold shower. He was horny for half the game and will be lucky if no one notices in the photos that his dick was hard as a rock.

He closed his eyes, his breathing quickening as he thought about the sight of your breasts on top of him during the afternoon. It was really hard to concentrate on the rest of the day while Mason was in such bad pain in his balls, he just wanted to get back to the hotel and get relief, but he couldn't take it anymore and had to go to the locker room shower, knowing that some players were outside.

All Mason wanted was to get between your legs and fuck you, fill your neck with marks and kisses and lose himself in your pussy. No one knew, but you and Mason used to meet up in the corners of Carrington, or he would show up at your house just to have sex and leave, and that was fine, you also showed up when you wanted to have sex and Mason was okay with that.

Mason just came, but he couldn't stop imagining your lips around his dick, you kneeling looking up at him, and he felt his cock getting hard once more. He looked like a horny teenager and knew he would only calm down when he could get his naughty thoughts about you out of his head. 

It was so hot in the United States, Mason was upset to be going back to England in a few days. He knew he would be back in the rainy and cold weather and he would miss the warmth, especially since he saw you walking around the hotel in short clothes and that was not common in England.

“God, help me.” Mason begged the universe, but decided to get out of the shower, knowing that he needs to go back to the pitch and watch the rest of the match. He didn't hear anyone else talking and figured the players had left, so he wrapped the towel around his waist and even though he wanted to jerk off again, he decided not to.

You were taking the dry towels to the locker room, since the other players would be showering after the match and things needed to be organized. You were the physiotherapist, but sometimes you did a little bit of everything to make things easier for them.

As soon as you left the towels on the counter, the door to one of the showers opened and Mason came out with the towel around his waist. You were startled and tried to ignore the drops of water running down his body.

“Sorry, Y/N, I didn’t know you were here.” Mason spoke and you noticed he was red in the face and panting. 

“Hey, is everything okay? Are you feeling sick?” You got closer and Mason's face got redder, you looked at his body to see if there were any notable injuries but the only thing you noticed was... that he was excited. “Oh.”

The bulge was straining against the towel, and you felt your own face turn red as you caught Mason in an indecent moment. It was inevitable and you bit your lips, feeling your mouth go dry as other thoughts crossed your mind. Wild thoughts.

“Please, help me.” Mason whispered, placing his hand on his cock and moving it up and down, still with the towel. 

“Mason, we can't do this here, someone might come.” You scolded and approached him, looking back to see if anyone from the team was there. “Were you masturbating in the shower?”

“Because you had those boobs in my face during the pregame massage and I couldn't stop thinking about it. I spent the first half of the game so horny, it was hurting so much.” 

“You're so stupid, why didn't you wait until you got to the hotel?” Mason grabbed you by the arm and pulled you against him, knowing you couldn't resist him. 

“Because you're so fucking hot and all I thought about was fucking you the whole game, please I just came so hard, it felt like you sucked me off, I just want to cum again.” 

Mason pulled your hand down to the bulge on his hip and you sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to give up. You and Mason were like fire and gasoline, you exploded when you were together. You got along well, and Mason was desperate to fuck you. 

Who were you to say no, when you liked danger as much as he did?

You looked back at the empty locker room, but you knew anyone could walk in and that made you excited. Mason pulled you and took you to one of the showers, closing the door and pushing you against the wall.

“Mason, my clothes are going to get wet.”

“Shh, what's the difference if i'm going to make you wet too?” He ran his lips down your neck and pushed his body against you. The Manchester United uniform you were wearing was soft and so you could feel Mason perfectly. He took off his towel and threw it on the floor, and you drooled at the sight of his naked body, even though you had seen it many times before.

“Why are you so stubborn?” You pulled Mason's face towards you, so he kissed you. Mason is a good kisser, but your favorite kisses are when he's horny and wants to fuck you until your legs are shaking. 

Mason slid his tongue across yours and his hands were already pulling at your shirt, so he quickly took it off and left you in just your bra. He was going to throw the shirt on the floor but you forbade it, so you held it and moved away to hang it on the wall. And to tease him, you turned your back and took off your pants, sticking your ass out for him and showing off the black lingerie you were wearing.

Mason liked to tease, but so did you, and he went crazy when you did that.

As soon as you set your pants aside, Mason grabbed you from behind and pressed his erection against you, and you moaned without realizing it, but Mason quickly placed his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

“You don't want someone to catch us here, do you?” You threw your head back as Mason pressed you closer, placing your head on his neck as he trailed kisses down your shoulders and slid his hands down your body, unclasping your bra and taking it off.

Mason ran his hand over your breasts then pinched your nipple, making you close your eyes and sigh, feeling the heat grow inside you. He was so good with his hands, with his mouth, that you were always surprised by the things he did to you.

“Don't mess with me then, I don't want to get caught.”

“What's the point if it's not dangerous?” 

“Do your job, Mason.” 

Mason laughed and turned you to face him, kissing you once more. Mason brought his hands to the middle of your legs and pressed your clit through your panties with his thumb, and you sighed, because Mason knows exactly where to touch.

You brought your hand to Mason's cock and made slow movements up and down, hearing him sigh and kiss your neck. Mason was so sensitive. You pressed the slit of his cock slowly and Mason squirmed, bringing his hand to yours and helping you with the movements. 

“Yeah… fuck, this feels so good.” Mason grabbed your hand and pressed it against his cock, speeding up his movements and you felt it throb over your fingers. 

Mason let go of your hand and pulled your panties down, quickly bringing his fingers to your wet entrance, sliding his fingers through the soft slit and you sighed, bringing your mouth to his shoulder to moan without anyone hearing. 

Mason slid a finger inside you while you were still jerking him off, then you realized he was desperate and it was one of those days Mason didn't want games, just relief. You thought of him being turned on the whole game, in pain and wanting your hands or your mouth around his cock. 

“Did you think about me while you were playing?” You asked softly and pulled his lip with your teeth, then stopped the movements with your hand around his dick and pushed him against the wall. Mason sighed because of the cold wall.

Mason inserted another finger into you and increased his movements, watching as you closed your eyes and bit your lip, then you lifted one leg and Mason held it, helping you stand as you brought your hands to his hair and pulled.

“All the fucking time.” He responded and kissed you, then Mason took his fingers out of you and brought them to your mouth, making you suck both fingers. Mason felt his own cock throb at the sight, imagining it was his cock in your mouth. “I just wanted to fuck you and feel that wonderful pussy.”

You grabbed his wrist and put it around your neck, making Mason squeeze you. 

“Please just do this so I can get back to my work.” Mason raised an eyebrow and smiled, then turned you around so that your back was to him once more, placing you against the wall. You sighed as Mason pulled your hair and pressed his body against you, and you felt him bring his hand down to his cock and place it against your pussy, sliding and teasing you a little, until he thrust his entire length hard inside you. 

You moaned loudly as he filled you, so Mason quickly brought his hand to your mouth so you wouldn't make any noise. He pulled your head against him as he made quick movements from behind and filled you so well. You rested your head on his shoulder, trying to hold on to the wet wall. 

“Oh, Mason.” You tried to moan, even with his hand covering your mouth. You had your eyes closed and felt Mason's breath in your ear, sending shivers down your entire body as you heard him sigh too.

“I've waited so long to fuck you like this.” He brought his other hand up to your hair, pulling once more while with the other he tried to keep you still, but the sound of his hips hitting your ass was loud enough for anyone to hear. “Hm- yeah, so fucking good.” 

Mason took his hand off your hair and slid it down your body, bringing it to your clitoris and making quick movements with his fingers. Having sex with Mason was good because he knew exactly what to do, because you spent time discovering each other's bodies the first few times. 

“Oh god.” You mumbled against his palm, and Mason pulled out of you only to thrust in again. Mason made you bend over a little more, then he picked up your shirt that was hanging on the door and handed it to you. 

“Bite this.” You did as he said, and Mason held your hips with both hands as he moved back and forth behind you, movements so fast just to cum and relieve himself of all the excitement that filled you both. “Yeah, good girl.” 

You rolled your eyes, Mason knows you don't like it when he says that, but he does it to tease you and there's nothing you can do to make him stop. A heat ran through your body, and Mason was making clumsy movements, so you knew he was close to cumming again. 

You bit your shirt harder, but it was no use when the sound of your skin touching was as loud as a moan. If anyone was outside in the locker room, they would know there were two people there.

Mason pulled you up again and pressed his chest against your back, he made a few more movements and when he held you against him tightly, you felt him cumming inside you. The orgasm exploded inside you and you felt your inner walls press against Mason's cock as you came at the same time as him, letting out sighs while still biting the fabric of your blouse.

“Oh, fuck, it gets better every time.” Mason whispered against your ear while you still felt him throb. You brought your hands to his neck, holding and removing the blouse from your mouth. 

“I know.” That's what you managed to say, still trying to recover. Mason was holding you and that was probably what was keeping you from falling, as your legs were shaking like jelly. 

Mason pulled his cock out of you and you felt the liquid dripping down between your legs. Mason brought his fingers between your legs and touched your sensitive clit, you gasped at his touch, but he just wiped some of what had dripped and ran it over your nipples. 

“You look messy.” He chuckled softly and left a kiss on your hair, still behind you. You smiled tiredly at him, then pulled away a little and turned to him, putting your arms around his shoulder and giving him a calm kiss. 

“It's your fault, I hope no one notices.” You grabbed your clothes and decided to put them on, knowing that you would soon go to the hotel and could take a peaceful shower, and who knows, Mason might join you again. 

Mason picked up the towel on the floor which was now completely wet, but he didn't care and wrapped it around his waist again. He waited for you to put on your clothes and gave you another kiss, pulling you against him, then Mason quickly fixed your messy hair. 

“There you go, no one knows that you had sex in the bathroom with number 7.” 

“You like bragging about that number, don't you?” Mason smiled at you, shrugging. He gave you one last kiss and opened the door, checking to make sure no one was around to see you. Mason nodded and you quickly left, grabbing your slippers and running out, walking slowly and quickly checking yourself in a mirror, then you ran back to the physical therapy area, leaving Mason behind.

Mason shook his head and smiled to himself, and even though once again you just had sex, he liked you and he knew that if things continued like this, he could fall in love. He pushed the thoughts away, but he was already wondering what time he would show up at his room for another round.

[crimsoncandy04]

OH MY GOD YOU WRITE SO FUCKING GREAT!!!! Can I ask for a mouse/hamster hybrid reader and Kitty/Scaramouche. He's trying to catch us and eat us 😏 👅

Can I stick to canon a little? I might not be very imaginative so I usually work with lore and stuff to make my ideas flow a little easier for me.

And I think I know how to do this.

It was no secret that the harbinger known as The Doctor often tampered with human DNA in order to succeed in certain projects regarding his segments. However as one of his subordinates, you became increasingly concerned when he started involving animal DNA too.

And terrified when he picked YOU out of everyone else to undergo a sort of surgical transformation to see if weaker humans could be physically "improved" with animal genetics.

You went to sleep on the operating table, a woman.

You woke up in a similar body, however your eyes widened in shock as you noticed the rounded ears and long tail you had. You were in a small box sized room full of reflective walls. And in them you could see that you were now in fact a mouse and human hybrid.

You tried to yell but only squeaked.

However the experiment was far from over.

One of the tall reflective walls suddenly retracted into the ground. Revealing a long dark corridor made entirely of stone. The narrow walls Rose high into the shadows and as you stepped out the the tiny place you had woke up in, the opening slammed shut behind you too. Leaving you in the darkness of the weird maze/labyrinth all alone.

Or so you thought.

Suddenly a sharp tone cut through the cool air.

"Oh so you DID survive. Congratulations I suppose. But don't think this makes you any more of a useless pawn dear."

A figure leapt down from the top of one of the higher walls behind you.

His indigo eyes glowed. Marked by beautiful long lashes and striking red eyeliner. He looked so...catty and you'd definitely be right about that.

The young man's big fluffy tail suddenly began to swish behind him as he stalked closer to you slowly.

"now don't move, mouse. This is only going to be uncomfortable if you make it that way." His big fluffy ears twitched a little with excitement as he suddenly tried to reach out and grab you.

However you were faster than you remembered now.

And you ran.

Sprinting through the dim maze of nothing but more long stretches of hallways and sharp turns, you could hear the man in pursuit of you.

Every time you thought you put some distance between you both, you'd see a flash or indigo hair out of the corner of your eye and force yourself to keep going as he seemed to be able to scale walls and leap from high places just like a cat effortlessly could.

Finally you felt fear overwhelm you. And you panicked.

And you tripped.

Hands descended upon your shivering body before you could even muster up a scream. Lips silencing you as the man gently rolled you over onto your back and pinned you beneath him.

"you're fast my little mouse. But not faster than me~" he mumbled in a strangely seductive tone as he moved his lips down your body and stopped just above your pubic mound.

"please don't hurt me!" You wail. Your body shaking as you watched a devious grin appear on his rather lovely face.

"keep begging, mouse. You look even more delectable when you do~" you noticed something strange about his hands then as he ripped your panties off. His fingers resembled those of a doll. He wasn't human or cat...

Was this the sixth harbinger that was rumored to occasionally help out The Doctor?

You didn't have time to ponder this as you feel him dig his nails into your knees and force your legs apart as he leaned in closer to your sex and gave your clit a small kiss before roughly shoving his long tongue deep into your aching cunt.

"ah~ please stop! Please this feels so...good~" your body continued to shiver but not out of fear as you felt him moan and purr against your pussy. You felt a tiny squeak leave your lips then. Making his eyes take on a predatory gleam as he pulled you against his face even more and began to alternate between lapping at your heat and teasing your clit with his sharp teeth and cool tongue.

He kept you on edge for the longest time. Seemingly enjoying your taste as you felt his purring get louder while you rocked your hips a little and felt your lower body tighten.

"don't fight it. Just let go little mouse ~" he hummed. You felt so good at that moment that all sense of shame seemed to have been lost as your body erupted and you squirt into the eager mouth of the man before you. He greedily slurps up every last drop and hungrily swallows your lewd juices as you lay panting and completely drained before him.

You struggle to sit up as you feel him pull away finally. Only to see him give you another sadistic and horny grin as he looks you directly in the eyes and starts counting.

You immediately feel nervous again.

Quickly getting to your feet and running away as he neared the final number.

You didn't know how long he planned to draw this out or why he was so hungry for you like this, but one thing was for certain. He would continue to hunt you.

And you would be devoured.

[umemiyan]

𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𝗫 𝗙!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / unprotected piv / noncon creampie, breeding + mentions of pregnancy / dom/sub dynamics / petnames (good girl, baby, sweetheart) / biting

“c’mon, be a good girl and let me cum inside this pretty pussy.”

he tries to persuade you as though he hadn't earlier promised that he would pull out, that he wouldn't attempt to sway you from your position of not being willing to take the risk and let him finish inside.

you vigorously shake your head and hum in disagreement at his proposal. toji's a dirty fucking liar but you somehow still find it in yourself to love him, to allow him to slide into you completely raw, knees almost up to your chest as he fucks you into the mattress because he has two different types of holds on you.

“aww, why not, sweetheart? you don’t want me to fill up that sweet little belly?" he punctuates every sentence with a heavy thrust, voice a malicious tease in your ear paired with an equally selfish grin. but then he moves to hold your gaze with a commanding intensity. "gimme fuckin’ words, baby. i need words.”

you gulp and gasp for air, his hips stopping long enough to allow you a moment to breathe. “i don’t want a baby.”

toji offers an amused scoff at your response. “yeah? s'that right?" he's convinced that a part of you is lying and that you wouldn't even think of letting him fuck you raw if something about the risk didn't appeal to you. "too afraid to be a mommy for my babies?"

those words ignite a flame of anxiety within you, but curiously enough also make you clench around him as he picks up the pace a little, holding back a growl as his fantasies wrack his brain.

"s’too bad," he says, tone growing more serious, "i think you’d be pretty good at it, even if you act like a brat yourself half the time.”

it almost doesn't sound like he's joking anymore, but how could he not be? there's no way toji could truly want a child—he can't even afford one, but all the possibilities make your thoughts go muddy and incomprehensible. you simply turn your head to the side to avoid looking at him straight on, flustered and overstimulated from previous orgasms, but he uses a strong hand to grab your cheeks and steer you back in the right direction.

“what the hell did i just say about using your words, huh? you better fuckin’ speak up or i’m breeding this tight little cunt right now." it almost seems as though he's offering you a choice with his hips speeding up and wrecking your insides like this. he's in control, but he's desperate, sweat beading along his forehead as he chuckles breathlessly. "hell, i might do it anyways with you suckin’ me in so good.”

gasping, your eyes go wide. “no, no, no!” you meekly protest, but it's too late—he pins your wrists to the bed and angles his hips to more accurately hit your deepest points, cock driving into you with even more purpose now.

“shit…” he curses and feels himself start to lose his composure, quickly slamming into you a few more times before halting balls deep and twitching his release out inside you. the hot, fresh surges of cum warm your womb as he stays rooted in place, determined to force his seed as deep as it can possibly go. in his mind, that’ll only make it easier for it to take and bring his current vision to fruition: you round and full with a baby that’s undoubtedly his. this is the image that flashes through his mind and makes his cock pulse with an orgasm that’s nearly paralyzing, teeth biting into the flesh of your neck like you're the pretty animal he's just claimed and mated.

once the storm has settled, his hot tongue licks over the mark in your skin to soothe it followed by a kiss and one more slow roll of his hips for good measure. "that's a good girl," the large pad of his thumb brushes the tears from your lashes as if he isn't the one who caused them. his hand is a little rough but still affectionate as it grips your face again and forces you into a possessive kiss.

toji pulls out of you with a wet squelch and a shit-eating grin. "gotta fight back a little better next time if you don't want me to get you pregnant."