#the wolf you feed is the one that wins

[alchemisoul]

* You're not responsible for every thought that comes in and out of your head. They're not necessarily within your control, not initially anyways.

It is within your power, however, to decide which ones you want to hold on to and those you wish to discard.

You're responsible for observing thoughts that flow inward and choosing whether or not you act on them, buy into them, or take ownership of them.

#KnowThyself

#TheWolfYouFeed

#IsTheOneThatWins

[makeuphall]

[ventismacchiato]

RAFAYEL HEADCANONS

canon complaint, established relationship

sorry guys, can u tell i have a favorite

matching everything. phone charms. earrings. nails. socks. you name it, he’ll buy everything in two.

begs you every other day to get a matching tattoo with him. he’s even drawn up multiple designs for you to choose from and will keep asking you until you eventually agree, how could you refuse?

hates cats, says he’s allergic (he’s not) but will run out the room when your cat walks in when he’s staying over. one time you asked him to feed it when you were away on a mission and you watched through your cat cam as it took him fifteen minutes to get the bravery to even get five feet near your cat.

so very chronically online. he’s a certified yapper. you’re his only follower on his private twitter and best believe he’s posting every single thought he has, and he expects you to reply to every single one. also asks you to match profile photos, but he has commitment issues so you guys change them almost every week.

you usually wake up to at least one voice note from him, minimum of five minutes long. you got used to playing them as podcasts as you got ready for work.

honestly he already probably gets his nails done, but will let you do them for him. more so force you, he’s lazy. but if you like to have yours done he would be able to do the prettiest designs for you.

aquarium dates are his favorite, no need to get a guide because rafayel will talk your ear off the moment you’re inside.

boy who cried wolf. fakes being sick for your attention so much so that you don’t even believe him when he actually is. not until thomas tells you that rafa has been whining about missing you in bed.

clearly has abandonment issues and gets upset when you don’t let him know where you are or if you’re okay. he’ll show up at your apartment the few times you pass out from a mission and forget to reply, ready to be mad at you. but the moment he sees your wounds and tired eye bags he loses any ounce of anger he once had.

love language is quality time, doesn’t matter what you’re doing as long as it’s together. he’s the type to tag along when you need to go grocery shopping or pick up something. he just likes to be beside you.

he is a brat, so he’ll laugh as he watches you struggle to carry all the groceries back inside. but it’ll only last a few seconds before he scoops them from you. if you guys go to a carnival together his immediate thought is to win every prize there. it’s only when he’s sucked the poor booths dry is when you have to tug him away.

claw machine dates are weekly and mandatory, but if you think you’re getting a turn think again. he gets too into it and forgets to share. you’ve come to learn you just need to pry him away from it

always follows the sidewalk rule but in return will make a big deal out of you opening doors for him since you’re his bodyguard. he’s the girlfriend in the relationship fr

that’s not the entire time though, when it’s just you two and he’s all worn out from being annoying all day his tone will go softer and his gaze warmer. he loves you he really does he just showcases it weirdly

constantly asking, morelike begging, you to stay the night. even if you have work the next day he says he needs you to fall asleep. it’s happened so many times you eventually brought one of your uniforms over and some clothes so you could spend the night and still go to work. it’s hard not to give in to him.

loves pda. if it was up to him he’d have his hands on you constantly. will get sulky if you don’t hold his hand when you go out.

much like xavier i don’t think he would enjoy working out. but if you need to go to the gym to train he’ll sit on a yoga ball beside your treadmill and talk your ear off. he’ll spot you on the machines but won’t go near anything. he will offer to sit on your back as you do push-ups though. you decline.

nsfw

probably a switch but after seeing his tipsy invitation and ebb and flow scenes he’s giving he prefers to be on the bottom. probably bratty at the beginning but according to the cards he gives in pretty easily, letting mc tie him up and referring to you as master likeeee. i feel like he just wants you to enjoy it more than he wants to enjoy it. gets off at seeing you get off type of deal.

he’s giving pillow princess vibes but if you ask he’ll give you the same treatment but tease you the entire time tbh he’s sooo bratty but i can’t see him being a hard mean dom. like he’ll give into you but make you work for it. edging kink all the way

“hmm, should i stop? i can’t let you finish this quick.”

“wow i didn’t know you were so sensitive here.”

“i haven’t even used my fingers yet and you’re already this wet.”

100% down to try any sex toy can you imagine him buying some sort of tentacle dildo as a joke cus he’s a mermaid but then you end up actually using it on him one night

[just-zy]

Cursed Bloodsucker

pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader!

summary: A day of the week, you'd think curses and hexes was all on the same day, but surely it wasn't that bad.. You had a girlfriend, didn't you?

A/N: I feel good tonight, and I feel like I didn't do pretty shitty here..

Warnings!: ermmm....ooc wednesday probably..

Masterlist

Being a vampire had its perks, but everything seemed to be..a downside for a certain individual today, specifically, friday. One might say, 'Oh, but how bad can it be?', well...

"O–Ow, Jesus Christ, easy on the stitches Wednesday.."

"If you'd just listen to what I had told you, we wouldn't be in this predicament."

Waking up early wasn't a problem for the vampire, so instead of listening to Wednesday, she decided to sleep in, and look where that got the bloodsucker. Running off to her second period while trying to neat out her wrinkled vest. She couldn't see well really, having her satchel slinging on her shoulder for dear life, her sunglasses almost falling off before she got inside the classroom, what a sight to see.

Disheveled hair, wrinkled clothes, slipping satchel, she thought it couldn't get worse.

She might've jinxed that one, that for a moment she thought she was cursed for living on specific days.

Walking was supposedly calming for the vampire, but today just seemed to be a day you wanted to get over with.

"Okay, what's for lunch, ooh– gimme!"

"Y– Y/N! Stop—!"

She was determined to have a bite of whatever Enid was having for lunch, unknowingly, the utensil Enid decided to use for todays lunch was silvered utensils. Why did that school have silvered utensils anyway? Well, labels. They have labels.

She reacted instantly to the object, dropping the spoon, immediately. "Fucks sake! Wha–"

"That's silver!"

If only she didn't let her intrusive thoughts win for once, maybe then she'd live another day.

Another problem, a full moon was happening tonight, what a coincidence!

She felt too worn out to even go out and feed, but she just had to, didn't she.

That same night, she did quite have an interaction with a shifting wolf, then gets mauled. What are the chances, huh? Thankfully, Wednesday was there to save the day! Or night.

"I feel exhausted, thank goodness it's the weekend tomorrow..I don't always have the best luck on friday's I swear, I'm cursed."

"Perhaps it's because you think you are."

Wednesday tidies the kit and stitches on the vampires bed, making her way in the bathroom and began cleansing her hands filled with the blood of her girlfriend.

"No– I really do have bad lucks on fridays.. Remember that one time I had an essay due? And I accidentally poured coffee, everywhere. Then there was that time when I slipped on the stairs and nipped my fucking tooth, and had my lip busted. But, I guess– they weren't as bad.. Because I had a lovely, gorgeous girlfriend to help me recover from all of that.."

The raven sat next to the vampire, scrutinizing her lover. She had a light smirk plastered on her lips, she leaned forward, your lips mere inches away from touching. You waited, you always did. You closed your eyes, awaiting her plump crimson lips making contact with yours, but that didn't happen. Tonight was different, she felt like tormenting you. She had only pecked your cheek.

What. The. Fuck.

Bothered, you gazed at her as she began inspecting the stitches on your arm. "Stitches look horrendous on you, Cara Mia."

"You're just pure evil, like the devil, did you know that?" You grumbled, unhappy that she still hasn't given you the one thing that you were waiting for all day, considering she was out with Eugene the whole day.

"Some consider me as Lucifer's daughter, but that isn't new, no."

Her eyes looked rather, luminous under the moons emitting light, you were ready to do everything she'd order you to, even let her redo the perfect stitches she's done just so she could have all her attention back at you, while she enjoys at what she does best. Being your girlfriend.

You didn't dare disrespect her, or even trespass her boundaries and limitations. Never in your life would anything hurtful leave that mouth of yours, you love her too much to do so.

Your gaze didn't leave her still figure, if anything it made you more focused on her, and only her. Your fingertips grazing on her pale skin, feeling her burgundy lips on your finger, to your desperate bloodied lips.

Fridays in the morning were a no, but the night time was an exception.

______+______

A/N: Wednesday has my heart, but she's soo difficult to write for sometimes 💔 this is a makeup for the recent imagine 😌

[moodymisty]

Misty I humbly request a Leman Russ fluff / lighthearted fic where every time he has to leave for war he gifts her a puppy, but now the sheer amount of dogs she has is a little ridiculous.

Is this just me wanting a massive Viking hubby and as many dogs as I could ever want? Yeah.

🍀

Author's note: Dog time! Very short but, It's cute i think.

Relationships: Leman Russ/Fem!Reader

Warnings: dogs

"Leman, You can't be serious."

The massive Fenrisian wolf pup wriggles in your arm, gumming at your arms and yipping. Russ tosses a hand outward to wave off your incredulous look, mouth agape.

"You always complain about how much you miss when Freya and are the other wolves were pups and you could take them to sleep with you, so here's another for while I'm gone."

While he mentions Freya, the first pup he ever gifted you- you named the dog after an old Fenrisian tale - he fails to mention the five other Fenrisian wolves you technically have.

While many of them are no longer your bed warmers, and now patrol the exterior of the Great Hall protecting it with sharp teeth in the never ending blizzards, they will still come to you barking and wanting affection.

"At this rate, you're going to run out of places to put them and meat to feed them with." Russ laughs, rolling his eyes. He leans forward to roughly pat the large pup on the head, it's ears twitching and he reaches out to try and playfully nip at his hand.

"Then just keep the pup while I'm gone, and then I'll give it to the whelps to train."

One of many things a Space Wolf must go through is working with the massive Fenrisian Wolves, and a lucky few can claim ones as mounts and battle companions.

After petting the pup he kisses your forehead, and leans up to his full height again.

"What. Do you want me to throw the pup back out with the others?" You instantly hold it tighter, it yipping happily in your arms.

"No! I'll do what you said; I'll keep it until you come back."

You had said that about the last one, and now your pack was six. Seven, is what it'll more than likely end up as even when Russ returns from his crusade.

The primarch laughs as your vehement refusal ever after complaining about this, as the cute pup wins out over logic. It licks your face, and you drop it onto the bed where it starts jumping around.

"Why would you just bring one of the grown ones in?" You laugh.

"Because it'll crush me in bed?" It's Russ' turn to laugh now, putting a hand to his chest.

"You have the same risk when you sleep with me, you know." Instead of fumbling over your argument like he had expected you shrug, nodding.

"True... Maybe I should just bring Freya back inside then."

Russ runs a hand through his braided hair and rolls his eyes, lamenting about something involving women, dogs, mjod and wanting to kill something, before leaving.

[wileys-russo]

That pic of mary and the baby hello…..i know you have written similar stuff before for her but could you do a blurb where the reader and mary have a baby together? maybe reader brings them to a match, once it’s over mary comes over to see them and takes the baby who instantly buries their head in her chest and all mary’s teammates notice and rush over to come see their favourite supporter

part of the a date to remember universe series 🫶🏻

crowd favourite II m.earps

you’d finally convinced your wife to let you bring your little bundle of joy to her first ever international football match, an england friendly against germany which being a euros rematch had already attracted a sold out crowd.

your wife forever over protective of both you and your little now nine month old daughter had banned the two of you from the previous england games claiming that the crowds became far too rowdy.

after a couple of months you’d started to take delilah to some of her home united matches, mary much more trusting of the crowds it drew in and knowing worse case she could be by your side in a minute if need be.

but now when you were up in the family and friends box staring down at your wife who was merely a spec in the wonderous size of a packed out wembley stadium, you’d needed to assure her over and over you would both be absolutely fine.

“well now do my eyes deceive me or is mrs earps finally off house arrest?” your head moved up toward the grinning blonde making her way over to you as you carefully stood with your daughter in your arms.

“hi lee.” you greeted the captain with a smile, kissing her cheek as she hugged you with one arm mindful of your daughter. “god she’s getting big, look at the hair on her!” leah gasped in surprise, ruled out from the game with a tweak in her knee sarina didn’t want to risk.

“you should see mary’s baby photos, this is nothing!” you laughed, kissing your daughters forehead affectionately before carefully passing her over to leah. you watched with a fond smile as the younger girl cooed at your daughter, face brightening as delilah rewarded her with a few giggles for her efforts.

“are you coming down?” leah asked nodding outside where you knew she’d shortly head down to sit behind the players bench with the rest of the staff. “i don’t think I have the clearance for that!” you laughed, handing off your daughter again to marys mum as she returned from the bathroom.

“please. look who you’re with! this face is all the clearance you need my girl.” leah grinned gesturing to herself making you roll your eyes playfully. “go! i’ve got her sweetheart she’s due for a nap soon anyway, mary will appreciate you being there.” julie smiled warmly.

“i’m just gonna see if she’ll feed before kick off. she was really fussy this morning with the bottle and mary not being home.” you sighed at the memory, barely able to have her drink more than a few mouthfuls.

taking delilah and grabbing your bag you moved toward the parents room, locking the door after you.

“-and you’re sure you don’t mind?” you asked your mother in law for the third time after your returned who shook her head with a laugh and waved you off. “darling she’s fed and fast asleep. go and enjoy the game!” the woman shooed you away as leah grabbed your hand, pulling you with her as you blew your daughter one last kiss.

“alright leah relax you’re gonna rip my arm off mate!”

~

“hi sexy.” you grinned at your wife as she finally made her way over after saying hi to as many fans as she could, the rest of the girls not far after her revelling in their 3-1 win.

“mary!” you squealed as your wife manhandled you up and over the barrier, placing you down on the pitch and kissing you fiercely earning you a few wolf whistles as you pulled away and buried your face in her shoulder.

“you’re so sweaty.” you mumbled with a sigh as she hugged you tightly, making a point to rub her face into your shirt as you pushed her off. “hello mrs earps! now where is mini earps?” you were quickly tugged into another sweaty hug by millie.

“up in the box with mary’s mum. nice to see you too brighty!” you poked accusingly at her chest. “excuse me it’s not my fault your bulldog of a wife won’t let us meet her unless through facetime!” millie pouted, several of the other girls around you joining in on their demands to meet delilah.

“hey i’ve been ready to bring her to the last three england games.” you defended, your wife sending you a murderous side eye for throwing her under the bus as her friends and team mates continued to whine at her.

“oh you guys haven’t met her? what a shame!” you were once again lifted into a sweaty hug as a smug alessia twirled you around and placed back on your feet, ignoring the unimpressed protests that followed her remark.

“stop winding them up. i’m raising you to be a pleasant and humble individual young lady!” you smacked her on the arm with a warning look as the blonde only grinned and kissed your cheek before you were pulled in by tooney who continued the teasing that the two of them saw your daughter almost daily.

“not a single one of you are laying a finger on her until you’ve showered, changed and washed your hands at least twice!” mary shouted sternly above all the noise, several of the girls all racing off to the change rooms making you laugh at their obvious eagerness.

“now look what you’ve done. whipped them into a bloody frenzy!” mary grumbled as she hugged you from behind, placing a few lazy kisses to your jaw as you leant into her secure hold, wincing slightly as she adjusted her arms to sit higher.

“hey love you alright?” she was back in front of you in an instant, hand caressing your cheek with a concerned stare as you nodded. “my boobs are killing me, i got her to feed earlier but i need to pump soon.” you mumbled in annoyance at your least favourite part of motherhood, your constantly aching chest.

“well i’ll make sure to give them lots of love and extra special attention and kiss them better for you later tonight baby.” the keeper whispered in your ear with a cheeky grin, hand moving around you to harshly squeeze your bum before giving it a smack as your eyes widened and you pushed at her chest.

“hope you’re washing your hands twice too after that little show mother mary!” millie and rach grinned wiggling their eyebrows at the woman, eyes widening as she lunged at them, chasing them off the pitch and back into the tunnel.

~

“hi gorgeous.” your wife was the first to appear upstairs, followed closely by a handful of her teammates whom you’d assume the girl kept held hostage in the change rooms until she was ready to come up herself.

“she just woke up, look whose back lilah!” you cooed rocking the infant in your arms as mary beamed, tickling underneath her chin as your daughter reached out for her eagerly.

a resounding chorus of aw’s echoed as mary scooped her up and your daughter buried her face in her hoodie covered chest, mary attacking her with kisses on every inch of her body as you watched on with a smile.

“right! make an orderly queue please girls. and no pushing! yes mills i’m looking at you when i say that.” your wife ordered sternly, bouncing your daughter on her hip as her team mates hurried to line up for a hold, the entire ordeal making you laugh.

“ah no! you let them have their turns you both saw her yesterday.” you were quick to grab both ella and alessia as they rushed past you, yanking them down into the seats beside you and ignoring their protests.

eventually they both gave up and rested their heads on either one of your shoulders, the three of you chattering about your plans to take delilah to the zoo next weekend. yet another thing you’d sworn the pair to secrecy over not wanting to upset the rest of their team mates much as the two loved nothing more than to flex their godmother and favourite aunty status about.

mary caught your eye with a grin as she protectively watched over your daughter, shaking her head at your two adopted daughters sprawled across your sides.

but neither of you would change a thing, your perfect little family.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Pancake eating contest! Fellow and Gidel vs. Ruggie! Who will win!

Sorry, I felt weirdly compelled to insert L*ona into this... Don't ask why--

The guy keeping time of the eating contest is a reference to Linguini from Ratatouille :DD I kept the ending to this one vague so you can imagine whoever you want to be the winner~

So tell me, do you wanna go?

[Pancake Eating Contest!!]

[Winner will be reimbursed the entry fee and will receive a coupon for all-you-can-eat breakfast at any of the participating Foothill Town restaurants for a full year!]

[Second place will earn a participation trophy.]

"C'mon, Giddie! Let's smoke the competition!" Fellow coaxed, pumping a fist. Already, he could smell the pancakes being cooked in the back of the joint, fluffy and warm and surely filling. He pictured clouds of whipped cream and a pat of butter like the rising sun to go with them.

"...!!" Gidel bounced up and down, attempting to showcase his readiness. They had been fasting all weekend in preparation for this momentous day.

"Leona-saaaaan!" Ruggie called out, waving to his dorm leader. "Watch me snag the win for us! I'll never have to--er, I mean, Magical Shift Club will never have to worry about shelling out for team meals for the rest of the year."

"... Can't believe I got dragged out all the way out here to be a wallet for some eating contest," Leona groused from the crowd of spectators. His gaze connected with Fellow's, and a fresh spike of irritation ran through him. "Damn it, you'd better win this, Ruggie--or it'll have been a waste of my time!"

Servers began rolling out from the kitchen, ferrying wobbling mounds of pancakes. The plates were set before them, glasses of water offered. (Ruggie refused, knowing that it would only take space away from pancakes. Gidel reached for a glass, only to have Fellow slap his hand away and tut.)

A spindly man with a mop of curly read hair and a stopwatch stepped into view. He checked the time, then nodded at the contestants.

"On your marks... get set... GO!!"

The feeding frenzy began.

Sharp nails and even sharper teeth pounced. The poor pancakes were eviscerated in seconds, loose bits caught by the table or floor, the rest snapped up in animalistic maws like little girls and grandmas down the hatch of a hungry wolf.

The pace with which they worked was fast, efficient. Ruggie and Fellow were raging beasts with their eyes on a distance prize.

(... Gidel, for his part, was far less quick. He clumsily sliced into a pancake, attempted to cram as much of it into his mouth as he could, then spent too long trying to chew it down to size.)

More pancakes came from the kitchen, as if produced by magic. They disappeared just as fast as they appeared, a wonderous vanishing act.

The spectators clapped and stomped their feet, kicking up a roar.

No blood would be spilt, but perhaps a glob of strawberry jam would.

[mysticmellowlove]

yandere streamer with a reader who’s a cam!girl?

note; not me googling mmorpg (flashback to graal online classic which for some reason was my choice of poison godbless it's cursed soul)

warnings; fem reader, fem anatomy, yan streamer, masturbation, i don't know i was feeling a little wild tonight, nasty reader, sadistic reader, findom?, dirty talk, degradation

Seth didn't usually play with fans but when he did he always seemed to find something new and interesting to harp on about. However, as he joined the call with one of the people who had won the giveaway he noticed something strange. They weren't in the room yet but those lights, the audio set up and the insulating panels on the wall.

He recognised the room as well, that soft toned wall and the plush pillows on the bed. A stout cough left him as he let the information sink in.

This was without a doubt "sugarhunnie's" room. While she wasn't an overly popular camgirl she was one of his favourites. She had started streaming only a few months back, starting off much more guarded. A couple of videos of her dirty talking had popped up on his feed (yes he did use only fans, there's nothing wrong with supporting his favourite mature streamers) and he was hooked.

He had watched as she got more confident, soon moving to playing with those pretty nipples of hers, whining on screen about how she needed someone to 'soothe' them after a long day of being confined to a bra.

Then she finally showed her bare body and he was hooked. She was everything he never knew he needed. A wolf in sheep's clothing. He'd spent hours watching her videos repeatedly, attending every live and looking through all her posts. She was a hidden gem only he knew about it seemed. He and maybe twenty other people.

"Sorry, I'm late!" He nearly fell out of his chair as the door to her room seemed to shut and she came on screen, dressed in the softest looking hoodie he had ever seen... his branded hoodie.

"Sorry if this sounds weird but I never thought I'd be the one to win the giveaway, you're a huge part of my life..." she seemed to fluster a little as she looked at him.

"You almost always play in the background when I'm working graveyard shifts... but you probably hear that a lot." She laughed, her face crinkling up joyously as she smiled. It was infectious watching her, her face wasn't always visible in her videos but now he could see all of her.

He was in love, infatuated and incredibly turned on.

"Haha, well I'm glad." He sputtered out as he rubbed his neck sheepishly. His favourite girl watched his streams, she had his merch... she was talking to him right now. His hand shook slightly as he pulled up the latest mmorpg and set up a room.

"I just downloaded this so I hope I'm not too bad." She grinned as she logged on and sent over a friend request. He accepted it and watched as the username popped into his friend list.

"Sugar huh?" He smiled, trying his best to keep his tone even. She laughed and nodded, going on about an old nickname. Either way he happily logged on and walked her through the game, she was fun to play with her. They even went past the allotted time and when she had to log off he found that he was sad.

He had already gotten used to her being on his screen, her tongue slightly out as she focused on taking out the reinforcements as he grinded away at the boss. But... that also meant he could solidify his assumption. Was she really sugarhunnie or was he simply dreaming it up?

He double checked his settings, shut down his discord and opened up his browser, going through his usual routine of making sure things were secure, he couldn't let her identity be leaked to anyone associated with him. They'd take away her attention and now that he possibly had seen her face... he couldn't stand it.

As he logged on his heart began to race, she was live. He clicked on the notification and watched as it loaded up, her form already sitting in the middle of the bed. It was the same room, same bed and same walls. Same cushions and if he looked hard enough he could see his merch off to the side, thrown carelessly over an armchair.

"I had a chat with the cutest boy today." She started to talk, her hands trailing down her curves before settling onto her inner thighs, her fingers pushing into the fat to create texture.

"He was so eager and ready to please." A lilting giggle echoed into his headphones as he watched almost hypnotised.

"His sweet little expression, the way he blushed when I nailed something he taught me about his game." His breathing picked up, was she.... was she talking about him? She was talking about... him? Really she had to have been! She had to have been, he could see the lower part of her face... her grinning mouth.

"That's all he's good for, just a pathetic man to look at. Watching his eyes light up was intoxicating." She mused as her fingers went to dip into her cunt, fingers coming out slick with her arousal.

"Your eyes looking up at me as I praise you for how much of a good boy you're being." He couldn't help the hand that drifted down to his pants, his cock already pulsing and straining against the constrictive fabric. She had all these thoughts about him that she went live just to talk about it?

His body jerked a little as he brushed against his sensitive head through the fabric, hurriedly he unzipped his pants and shoved his hand down to cup himself.

"It's all you'll ever be good at huh? Just a little slut to please me, fuck your tongue into me." Her breaths came out in puffs as her fingers worked on herself, in and out he watched the movements as if his eyes were glued to the screen.

"I shouldn't see anyone in the live chat, you better be jerking off your pathetic dicks." She laughed playfully as she gave the camera a good view of her wet pussy, the arousal catching the light. He felt his mouth fill with saliva, as wanted to lean forwards and just... touch her, feel her. As expected there was no one in the chat other than the ones sending her money.

The sounds of her fingers plunging in and out of her were sinful as he let his hand move to the same beat she was, it was almost as if he was there with her. He wished he was there with her.

"Keep pumping yourself, you don't want to upset me do you." She teased as she moaned, her head falling back as she let herself be taken away by the feeling.

"You're to cum at the same time as me alright, I expect nothing less. You're my little slut right so you have to listen to me." She laughed as her spare hand went to play with her clit, rolling and pinching it teasingly as her hips fluttered with her movements.

"And after you cum I better see you sending me money, I don't take freeloaders alright." She scoffed as her cunt took her fingers to the knuckles, the squelching sound rattling around in his head as he fought to keep his eyes open and on her.

"Alright now, don't disappoint me." She grinned, her teeth flashing as she sped up her pace, focusing entirely on herself.

"Bet you wish you were here, right? Lapping at my pussy?" A breath left his mouth as he watched her intently, the way her thighs were glistening. Her sounds grew louder as she thrust her hips to the rhythm of her fingers, drawing herself closer and closer before she seemed to stutter.

A loud cry left her mouth as she shivered for a moment, her fingers languidly pulling from her body, catching the light as she stroked her wettened hand over her body tantalisingly. He too found himself cumming at the sight, her orders in his mind.

"Come on now, stupid sluts. I better see some donations." She giggled as she let her hands soothe her body. He shook as he pulled his hand from his pants and went to give her some of the money he himself had made, the donation blending in with all the others.

"Good boy, there we go. You're just a useless slut, only good for pleasure and a quick buck." She laughed as she sat forward, her nipples hardening as she showcased her breasts to the camera.

"I'll see you next time alright, you better be here or I'll be mad." She faux pouted before the live ended and he was left staring at the front page of her profile.

[yandere-fics]

Yandere giving their catgirl darling catnip all the time and secretly drugging her to keep her sleepy and dependant. Slowly get it into her head that she's just a dumb little kitten who can't take care of herself, never be outright malicious, but get her high and whisper to her all of your intentions. Eventually her brain will just learn she's far too useless to ever be apart from you - if you ever broke up with her you'd probably starve to death. So you just give in and become her cute little litten, even when she shows her true self.

-girlfailure

♡ Drugging Their Cat Girl Darling ♡

♡ Miriel does it because she wants to be able to put a diamond collar on you but when you'll fully conscious you won't allow it so she starts dosing you with catnip just so she can have a bit fun dressing you up while you'll all cute and vulnerable but after doing it for awhile she starts to just really like it and you seem so happy with it anyways, what's the harm in doing it just a bit longer. She won't feel bad at all about it and she wouldn't stop, you might get a bit flustered if you act horny while you've been dosed. She won't overuse it though, there are times were you'll be allowed to not be high. ♡

♡ Eliza does it cause she secretly really wants to be the big bad wolf mounting the poor unfortunate cat but you won't go along with it when fully aware and so she found a tutorial on the internet on how to make your cat darling embrace their instincts and it suggested dosing you so she went for it plus once she gets you dosed you're just so cute and pliant and you'll go along with anything she tells you even if she tells you to present your cute hole for her or let her breed you, when you're like that you even beg sometimes so it's a win for her, she enjoys it for nonsexual reasons but it will mostly be used for her sexy times or when you're being too silly. She won't feel bad, she may stop after sometime if she notices you acting loopy even when she hasn't dosed you but she'll start back up again as soon as that's faded. She might overuse it a bit. ♡

♡ Selene does it because she's worried her cute pet will leave her if they ever think critically about how much of a bad person she is so she uses it so you won't think and will just be her cute happy pet all the time, everything is okay as long as it's to keep your soulmate beside you anyways plus she's a very good owner, she makes sure you have the cutest most comfortable clothes, a pet doesn't need anything practical though, she'll feed you the best cat girl approved diet even though you might hate it(obviously because it's food for a cat like so much fish and milk, yuck) but with her dosing you, you'll forget how disgusting it is, and of course plenty of running outside with her so her pet will get some mental stimulation and she get to mount you so it's a win for both of you. She will never ever consider stopping and she will abuse the fuck out of it, what did you expect? This is Selene we're talking about. ♡

♡ Kassien will do it anytime you're showing resistance and she'll be so subtle about it that you won't even realize you feel much loopier than normal, it's usually not her first go to though and she'll use a very small amount of it, remember all demons, even mid ranked ones have the power to make their mate feel sleepy though angels have this even stronger than normal demons so if she combines this with a very light dosing it'll feel much more powerful and since it's a light dose you likely won't build resistance to it. She likes it for training, she can't deny you're so cute and pliant like this but she would prefer you give into your instincts without it, she's one of the meaner ones, if you try to fight her too much then she'll go full force with it and make you start to feel really stupid cause you can't seem to do anything and she always has to help you so then you'll learn that you need to just let her do everything. It's better than her breaking a leg though. If you push her too hard she won't stop dosing you ever though if she trusts you again more then the dose will be switched from strong to medium at least. She doesn't feel bad, you were the one who fought her so hard. ♡

♡ Nikki tries it to make you sleepy with her and is not a fan of it, sure you're cute but why do you have so much energy, perhaps she needs to give you more? All that does is make you horny and while she likes having you horny, she would really like you to take naps with her and so once again she increases the dose and now you're sleepy all the time which she really likes so in short she uses it way too much, has no remorse, and is never going to stop now that she's found the optimal dose to make you her perfect sleeping partner. This will affect your mind long term, you will not be able to form proper thoughts anymore but he doesn't seem to care at all. ♡

♡ Runa starts to do it because she finds the exact same guide as Eliza, she however is not a huge fan of it because it lasts too long and it makes you really stupid, it's hard to get off on degrading you when you think she's being sincere and then she just feels like a bad mate so eventually she takes you off of it, she really wished it had worked but you seem to think she's being sincere when you're on it so it's too risky, she really likes how scared you are of being without her after it and how much you rely on her so she did get some benefits from it. ♡

♡ Nora is most likely to do it from the start, the moment she's handed your file she started to think of how she could make herself a integral part of your life that you can't live without, this skips all the trying to be your perfect girlfriend stuff cause now you're so reliant on her that even if you don't love her, you need her and will let her just take care of you forever and tie you up and since she decided to go that route from day one, she'd probably kidnap you and just permanently dose you, no courting,, just waking up in a big woman's house permanently high and having to rely on her for every single thing though honestly it really is nice, she would treat you very well, she does actually feel bad about it but she's just such a bad person that there's no way you would want to be with her otherwise. ♡

♡ Sawyer does it when you're pushing her away on her heat or really in general, look she's not proud of it but she really needs a bit of affection from you and if she's not receiving she'll dose you once a week so you'll actually allow her to pet and cuddle you. She doesn't overdo it though, she knows exactly the right amount that would be unhealthy for your mind long term, after all if she just makes you a stupid cat then how are you supposed to spend her money and go on these fancy dates with her, she does enjoy it while it lasts and she doesn't feel bad, you brought this upon yourself by not loving her enough. Plus you seem happier in cat mode so what's the big deal? ♡

[charon-cries]

we're lucky Lestat de Lioncourt doesn't have tumblr, the drama he'd get into on here would be wild

#is this anything #he'd probably get cancelled instantly #also side note for future reference #i'm making this post before season 3 #so if anything in this is incompatible with amc canon #that's because i'm working off of seasons 1 + 2 and the books #okay ty have a nice day

32 notes

🎧 audiofilled Follow

ANOTHER of my mutuals went missing after buying a backstage pass to a vampire lestat concert. she didn't post pictures, nothing, and she's been radio silent since her last post (which was about how she was about to go backstage...) and i really think we should be taking this more seriously. so.

reasons why i think "lestat de lioncourt" may be running a cult or something:

Keep reading

🐺 the-vampire-lestat

Absolutely ridiculous. I am very open about what I am, you do not need to resort to senseless conspiracy theories to figure out where your little friend went.

🎧 audiofilled Follow

are you incapable of dropping the vampire bit for ONE moment? people are going MISSING and you're still doing your corny roleplay bit?

#discourse #TVL disappearances #callout

362 notes

📚 daniel-molloy

It's day number seventy-three of surviving this God forsaken website solely to keep tabs on Lestat's social media presence, and I'm still trying to decipher the lingo you people use here. What the Hell does, "I'm bald," even mean?

#the vampire lestat

137 notes

🪽 arun-rising

Did anyone else notice Lestat only posts during the night, in whichever timezone he's in while on tour? True commitment to the bit. Or the bite, I suppose.

🩸 carmillized

weren't you posting about how much you despise his music just yesterday???

🪽 arun-rising

I don't know what you're talking about. I never did that.

🩸 carmillized

You are correct. I believe you without question. I do not even know why I said that in the first place. I do not recall you posting about Lestat de Lioncourt before this.

#sorry OP i was out of line #now that i'm thinking about it though #this post is making me wonder if lestat could be a real vampire #i hadn't seriously considered it until this very moment #something came over me... #wonder why

40 notes

🐺 the-vampire-lestat

New song.

Listen, if you dare.

📷 disintegrated-wonder

Lestat, I thought we were over this...?

#louis talks

893 notes

🧷 baby-jenks

Wouldn't it be wild if we all just spontaneously combusted? Haha. Glad that will never happen

#fang gang #vampblr #random thought #it's unlikely

4 notes

👴🏻 marius-official Follow

How does this website work...?

🦇 fang-fan

delete your blog

#rank vibes on this man

1,425 notes

🐾 interview-wolf-the-werewolf Follow

Sponsored with Blaze 🔥

Check out my new book. It's a biography, about me, written by an award-winning journalist, chronicling my life as a werewolf. It's 100% factual and real, a real breath of fresh air in a world filled with fiction attempting to pass itself off as reality.

#iwtw #my posts #my book #me #werewolf #wolf #awoo #please i need to feed my litter of twelve #this book is all i have

5,762 notes

🩸 carmillized

hey all! i know that my mutual, audiofilled, is a little bit divisive in the music fandom rn, but i'm getting a little worried. i haven't heard from him since he made that post speculating about where TVL fans have been disappearing to. please send me an ask or a dm if you've heard from him!

#talk tag #getting a little worried #he's probably okay though

47 notes

🐺 the-vampire-lestat

Just had a lovely dinner. It's nice when your food is in tune with you, yes? Makes the blood sit well in the veins.

🦇 fang-fan

ur so funny

#edit: sorry for posting while audiofilled is missing #i didn't hear about it until just now

1,409 notes

🩸 carmillized

okay i just can't get over how he talks about himself. i don't know if it's just him being "in character" or if this is just how the guy acts irl, but he's so self-aggrandizing that i've been questioning it

no nuance/bald/other, you have to decide on the spot right now what you believe

📚 daniel-molloy

He's lying.

👩‍💻 talamascized-witch

I don't believe him for a second.

#archive #poll #lestat de lioncourt

[innocent-cat]

Sort of, but not really, a crossover between The Legend of Vox Machina and The Owl House

Headcanons for how you think Vox Machina would react to having a member who is a witch (that suffering from a curse like Eda’s) from the Boiling Isles? Rather it’s about learning more about their magic or helping them manage their curse?

I love this idea, and i'm also trying to get through all the requests in one day so watch me do a magic trick guys

Vox Machina x TOH Magic Reader

Warnings - none

"The fuck do you mean you have a bird curse?", Vox Machina x Reader

.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻

Head canons!!!!

OBVIOUSLY when they first learn about it they're all like

"Is there a cure??"

"Does it hurt you:(?"

(Only Pike Vex and Keyleth ask if it hurts you..)

(It's okay cus the boys are immediately asking about how to make the potion)

Once they realize that since you've settled for the potions, it's usually top priority to restock your potions when they go shopping.

"You sure you have enough?? We might not get another chance to shop!"

They're too caring for their own good sometimes

When your curse DOES erupt, Keyleth keeps you down with vines while they bottle feed you the yellow liquid.

Sometimes they'll purposefully not give it to you when you guys are going on some dangerous adventure so your curse snaps during battle.

real clutch when you guys are all about to die

Grrr woof woof

OTHER than that, you're a wild witch, so you have all kinds of magic.

Percy is he only one who's even heard of the boiling isles, unsurprisingly.

"Is it really a titan you all live on?"

"Yes. It is."

So so so many questions about it all.

You have a small amount of sludge with you for abominations, so you've been letting them simmer so they get bigger.

A lot of times they think you're weird for it, but you have to explain it for a few times till they have a "ohhh" kind of reaction

Scanlan defo bonds with you over your bard magic.

":O???? YOU TOO???"

You just kind of look at him confused until you laugh at his hand magic.

expect duets during battles so he can pitch in more.

Keyleth likes how connected you are with animals, she feels like it gives you two more to connect about

"Have you heard about what happened to Benard?"

"Which one? The wolf or the rabbit?"

"The rabbit. He cheated on Lani."

"Gasp”

They also have you fix stuff a lot around the house just because you can control mud n stuff.

you 100% throw mud at them when they say stupid shit

"Yeah so this girl I f- god damn it- why?!"

Scanlan hates it, everyone loves it

win-win

You also lend a huge hand when it comes to healing.

literally pike 2.0 with your shields n stuff

you trick them with your illusion magic.

"Wait- i thought you were going to the woods?"

You look at Vax, staring at him for 5 seconds.

"Hello??"

*poof.*

"Not again!"

They learned about your psychic ability recently when Vex asked about your necklace.

"What's that, birdy?"

You touch your necklace, rubbing the glass orb on the centerpiece.

"What are you doing?" (You said it in sync with Vex.)

"Its a Oracle orb." You smiled and went on a little rant about it.

they all call you birdy because of your feathery curse.

They defo make you predict battles and ask what theyre supposed to do about losses.

"Why would I know? Change it yourself, duhhh"

Keyleth loves your plant magic because when she speaks with your vines, flowers, grass, or trees they all sound and act like you.

"They're like your little babies! haha.."

lots of smiles and laughs from her.

You teach them how to make certain potions because you think it'll help them.

For example, you gave Vex a potion that'll make her more charismatic and she cleared a tab for all of you guys for free.

Could have been her natural charisma, but who knows.

i forgor about grog oops

[defectivevillain]

this winding labyrinth, ch6

chapter six: awakening

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader (reader is not gendered, race-ambiguous, and no physical descriptors are used)

summary:

You wish you never met Hannibal Lecter. But you yearn for his presence. You want to forget him. But he never truly leaves your thoughts. Now, you’re left to pick up the pieces of a broken design. A battle of instinct rages on in your mind—one of bittersweet relief and cloying grief, fearless resolve and poignant regret; a clashing between affection and antipathy, pride and pain. What will win, in the end? Only time will tell.

this is chapter 6, act 2 of this broken design. if you haven't read act 1 or chapters 1-5, this won't make too much sense.

ao3 version | Spotify playlist

warnings: typical fare (canon-typical blood, violence, gore, etc.)

Your greeting falls flat in the tense air. You can vaguely hear footsteps and shouts from the other cells, but it all fades away when you meet those ever-familiar gleaming crimson eyes. For a long moment, there is nothing but horrid anticipation. He’s forcing you to sit in this stifling silence as penance. 

“I’ve been expecting you,” Hannibal eventually hums. It doesn’t take long for you to remember that Hannibal has been expecting you from the moment he turned himself in. You try to envision him rotting away behind these walls, ignorant of the developments occurring all around him. It’s a bit hard to imagine—namely because you suspect it didn’t happen that way. You didn’t need to speak to Hannibal today to confirm your suspicion that someone has been feeding him information from the outside. After all, his surrender was entirely tactical. Hannibal knew what he was doing when he folded his arms behind his head and knelt before Jack—knew what he was doing when he left you with everything but an explicit promise that he would see you again. 

Yes, Hannibal has been expecting you. And you, in some regard, have been expecting him. You weren’t so foolish to think that Hannibal’s captivity would remove him from your life forever—things are rarely so simple. You had a feeling you’d return to the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane for a house visit—you just didn’t know when. Indeed, it’s been years since Hannibal’s surrender. You idly wonder if you should be proud of yourself for how long you maintained your distance. This brutal eye contact through glass that feels far too thin; these clenched fists and gritted teeth… They were bound to happen eventually. Perhaps you were just prolonging inevitability. 

You digest his words for a few moments longer, before taking a deep breath. “I’m here to speak with you about the Tooth Fairy.” You announce. Hannibal doesn’t seem surprised by your statement, as he surely knows that you’re only visiting him out of necessity. There is no trace of amusement on his face, yet you can see his twisted delight regardless. He planned for this—painstakingly waited weeks, months, years for you to arrive. You willingly walked into this trap. 

“Did you receive my letter?” Hannibal asks, before you can elaborate any further on the Tooth Fairy. You had forgotten how smoothly Hannibal can manipulate a conversation, steering it masterfully into any desired direction. 

When you manage to process his words, you feel frozen in place. “I… did receive it, yes,” you say, wincing as you’re forced to remember what you’ve spent years trying to forget. You’re thrown back into the uncertain time following Hannibal’s surrender… 

You hadn’t spent long at your house in Wolf Trap—you needed to get away from it all. You hadn’t told anyone about your relocation except Jack, Bev, and Alana. You wanted a break from the caution tape and bloodstains. A break was what you wanted, and a break was what you got: two months of time to yourself. Just before it got to be too much, you were back at the Bureau, continuing your work. The move was a great decision overall. Perhaps best of all, it put even more distance between Baltimore and you. The further you were from Baltimore, the better. 

Then, one afternoon, you returned home to find a letter in your mailbox. You were suspicious at the time. After all, by then, Hannibal was growing to be a popular figure in the news—which had forced you into the spotlight as a result. Even despite your relocation, you occasionally received strange mail from impersonators. You convinced yourself this letter, hidden in a burgundy envelope with an elegant wax seal, was another prank. Still, against your best judgment, you opened it. The elegant cursive writing immediately threw all realistic explanations out the window. At that point, you had only read the first few words—but you knew it was no prank. 

You wanted to throw it into the fireplace and let it burn to ashes. However, the thought of never getting to see the message was even worse. You took a slow breath and moved to your dining table, laying the letter flat and reading it under the dim light. 

My dear,  

You need have no concern as to your fate. You have no better nor more respectful friend than myself.

I have been reading rather frequently these days. There is not much else to be done. I suppose I should instead be grateful that I am provided with books, a desk, a bed, and similar luxuries that the other prisoners do not have. Yet a gilded cage is still a cage.  

Your image wanders the halls of my mind palace quite frequently. Even in the darkest depths of this winding labyrinth, your gleaming eyes tear through the shadows with ease. Your voice reverberates through these confines, drawing me from slumber and compelling me to take measured breaths with renewed vigor. I wonder if I have grown to wander the recesses of your mind in return, slipping into your mind palace despite your most concentrated efforts.  

I do wonder how you are faring. I find myself looking at the night sky through the skylight often. Some of our stars are the same, after all.

Are your stars burning too?  

Yours,  

Hannibal Lecter 

The signature at the end of the letter captured your attention for a moment, before your mind fell to the uncomfortable realization that Hannibal had found your new address. You moved away from Wolf’s Trap to escape your memories, to escape him. Yet he found you with ease, even when in captivity. 

A polite cough brings you back to reality. Hannibal is staring at you expectantly, and you remember that he is waiting for an answer. “Thank you for the letter,” you say, albeit with a bit more irritation in your voice than usual. You don’t have the freedom to say what is truly on your mind, lest he grow disinterested and refuse to give you more information. Regrettably, you’re forced to play along.

Despite your somewhat snippy tone, Hannibal is dissuaded. “Of course,” he smiles, a sharp thing. You truly cannot tell if he is taking pleasure from your gratitude (regardless of its veracity). Silence stretches across the space once more. The two of you are assessing one another. 

“Now, about the Tooth Fairy,” you finally manage to say, “I was hoping you could give me some professional insight.” Hannibal nods and you pull out a crime scene photograph and a picture of Mrs. Leeds, ensuring that nothing is attached to them (Chilton was very strict about that) before sliding them through the mail slot fused into the glass wall. Hannibal gets up from his chair and takes the photographs, studying them with a careful gaze. You think you see his eyes gleam brighter as he evidently looks at the corpses in the first picture and your stomach turns at the observation.

You’re not sure how much time you spend watching him as he looks at the photograph. You get the feeling that he’s luring you into a false state of security by allowing you to look at him, and you can’t get rid of the unreasonable conviction that, somehow, he is watching you right back. 

“And what have you gathered so far?” Hannibal asks once he has thoroughly scrutinized the first photograph. 

“In terms of physical characteristics… he’s right-handed; has blonde hair; and has size eleven shoes.” You recall. “Otherwise, we don’t have much, unfortunately. I’m trying to establish some sort of connection between the two families, the Leedses and the Jacobis. They’re both white, middle-class nuclear families. Not much else sticks out, save for the special attention the killer paid to both of the wives.” 

“The wives,” Hannibal repeats, his eyes now locked on the second photograph you handed him. There’s a strange look on his face—it almost looks like revulsion. You know he wouldn’t be disgusted by the act—he’s committed murder before and will do it again without hesitation, you have to remind yourself. Maybe his contempt is for the fact that he’s trapped, while this killer roams free? You’re honestly not sure. It’s been a while since you’ve devoted significant time and energy to thinking about Hannibal, so you get the feeling your characterization of him may be a little tarnished and inaccurate with how much time has passed. 

“He found the wives beautiful,” you continue, following his gaze to the crisp print. The image is burned into your mind: Mrs. Leeds glances at the camera, shimmering hair flowing down her shoulders. Her eyes are gleaming and her lips are twisted into a conspicuous smile, as if sharing a secret with the onlooker. “He was fixated on them.” 

“A sexual obsession, perhaps.” Hannibal hums. That thought had already crossed your mind, of course—Jack and you discussed it shortly before you left. Even so, an obsession of that nature doesn’t elucidate all of this killer’s actions. 

“He exhibits a lot of the indicators of psychopathy…” You break off.

“Yet, he is not typical,” Hannibal finishes for you. You nod. 

“Not from what I can see,” you admit. ���Plus, he left frighteningly little evidence. The few pieces of evidence we found almost seemed to be deliberately placed.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “He will kill again on the next full moon,” you continue, crossing your arms over your chest. You feel strangely vulnerable standing in front of Hannibal after all this time. “Which leaves us… less than a month to capture him.”

“Jack must be stressed,” Hannibal intuits. 

“Of course,” you acquiesce. It’s a reasonable assumption to make, so you don’t feel like you’re revealing any information by agreeing with the statement. A killer on the loose is never a good thing, and will cause any FBI agent considerable stress. “We all are.” You affirm. 

“Is there anything else?” Hannibal asks. You desperately want to deny him any more information but, damn it, you need some sort of lead on this killer. And this discussion, riddled in ambiguity and riddles and philosophy, does challenge your existing assumptions in a way nothing else has. 

These thoughts convince you to share one more tidbit of information—arguably one of the more important pieces of evidence. “The killer shattered the mirrors at both crime scenes.” You answer. You blink and you’re standing over shards of jagged glass scattered across the ground. The fragments crunch underneath your feet and a twisted thrill runs up your spine, a cruel smirk distorting your face. You blink again and are abruptly thrown back to the present moment, standing across from Hannibal Lecter with only a wall of glass separating both of you. 

“Intriguing,” Hannibal remarks. His tone is rather flat, and you’re unable to tell if he really thinks it’s intriguing or not. You think he must be telling the truth—he psychoanalyzed people for a living, after all. The more puzzling and perplexing, the more entertaining. “Perhaps it’s born out of a sense of frustration. The killer feels disconnected. He feels as if he isn’t where he should be. He may even be attempting to experience… a becoming.” 

A becoming. That’s an interesting way of phrasing it. “But what is he trying to become?” You hear yourself say. You’re not sure if you’re even asking Hannibal at this point, or if you’re just reciting your thoughts aloud. “Or… who?”

“I believe that’s your question to answer,” Hannibal responds smoothly.

The smile on your face hurts and you feel it slide off within moments. You take a deep breath and try to calm your racing thoughts. You’re not sure why you’re fighting so hard to maintain pretense, even now—when Hannibal is caged behind a wall of thick glass. “The biting leads me to believe that he thinks himself to be some sort of creature. Maybe.” You’d venture to guess that he has some sort of physical deformation or abnormality, leading to debilitating self-esteem issues (in addition to a host of other far more pressing issues). The killer holds contempt for how others see him. Yet… he arranged the Leedses so that they were watching him—watching his performance as he took Mrs. Leeds’ life from her. Perhaps he only feels whole when he is committing acts of unspeakable violence. Perhaps… he is striving for some sort of unattainable ideal. And the smashing of the mirror is a release of his frustration with the laborious process of “becoming” that Hannibal mentioned. He does not believe he has achieved his “becoming” yet. You need to do more research. You get the feeling you have more reading to do when you return to the Bureau.

“I’m afraid I haven’t been of much assistance,” Hannibal then says regretfully. His eyes are twinkling and his lips are twisted ever so slightly, informing you that he is feeling more amused than apologetic. You’re not sure why you expected anything different. Any other person would be weathered down by years in prison; Hannibal only seems sharper. 

Besides, it was foolish of you to think you could get all the answers you desired within one conversation. You suppose Hannibal has given you something to think about, at least. Still, it feels as if your visit was ultimately a mistake. All you have gotten is the unnerving confirmation that Hannibal had been waiting for you to appear. He sprung a trap for you years ago, and you thought time would erode its netting. Yet you foolishly wandered right into it. It was silly of you to think of yourself as anything other than the prey. 

Your thoughts spiraling into self-deprecation, you bid Hannibal goodbye and start walking back down the hall. He returns the sentiment, albeit with a slightly different departing remark—likely to imply that you will be seeing him again. You try not to think about it as you continue walking down the hall, but you can’t quite stop your racing thoughts. Besides, there is merit to considering everything you’ve discussed with Hannibal today. There is value in dissecting his emotions and determining his conceptualization of the killer, because it could better inform your search. He may have been withholding information, but his characterization of the killer’s actions as a journey towards a “becoming” is still immensely informative.

You get the feeling that his ambiguity and evasive answers were primarily for the purposes of establishing a need for future conversation. He has given you just enough to prove useful, but not so much that you’ll never come back. You feel somewhat akin to a wild animal that just fell into a trap, successfully earning a reward but sustaining injuries regardless. Your pride is wounded, and your immediate recollection of the trap will succeed in deterring you from trying it once more. But, as time passes and you slowly let your guard down, you will stumble across the trap the hunter has set for you once more, and fall into it all over again. 

You shake your head and continue walking, pretending not to notice the jeering and shouting coming from the nearby cells. It feels as if you’ve been walking forever, but you’re hardly ten steps away from Hannibal’s cell.  Your momentary pause in the hallway seems to tempt one of the prisoners, as he races forward and slams his hands against the bars of his cell. 

You freeze, your heart hammering in your chest. The prisoner is now almost crushed against the barrier, staring at you with enough intensity to melt through the iron bars of his cell. You make the unfortunate mistake of returning his eye contact, and he purses his lips before spitting at you. Disgusted and revolted, you wipe his saliva off of your face with the back of your sleeve. There’s no point in attempting to retaliate—the guy will be confined here for the rest of his life. Besides, your momentary glance at him was enough to inform you that the man is severely unstable. There’s no telling if he even sees you right now—he could easily be seeing a shadow of his past standing under these fluorescent lights, jeering at him with venom. 

You hear a whisper of your name in the hall, but put it down to your imagination and take another step away from the prisoner. You don’t make it far before you hear your name again, and you’re forced to come to terms with the fact that someone has been calling your name. And, not just someone—Hannibal himself. You want nothing more than to ignore his remarks, but, somehow, you can’t take another step. As if a puppet on a string, you feel compelled to return to your original spot in front of the Ripper’s cell. “You have Lecter on a leash, don’t you?” But you’re the one on the leash, and he is the one dragging you back. The walk back to the end of the hall feels far too quick. 

Hannibal is standing close to the glass wall, his gaze flitting across your face. You’re startled to recognize the fury glittering in his eyes and the rage forcing his posture ever straighter. Despite these glaring abnormalities, Hannibal’s voice is unsettlingly tranquil. “Did Miggs spit on you?” 

That must be the prisoner’s name. The last name doesn’t ring any bells, and the man remains little more than a shadowy visage in your mind. Seconds later, Hannibal’s expectant gaze forces you to remember his question. As you process just what he’s asking of you, you realize that you really have no choice but to answer truthfully. There is no point in attempting to lie to Hannibal—not only does he detest dishonesty, but he was also a short distance away from where it happened. He’s only asking out of courtesy. “...Yes.” You eventually murmur.

“How discourteous.” Hannibal frowns. There’s a dangerous gleam in his eyes and it unsettles you. You’re briefly satiated with the knowledge that Hannibal can do no one harm from his glass confines; yet, at the same time… in the back of your mind, you can’t help but instinctively fear for impending violence. 

“I’ll survive,” you say, trying to smile and manifest an unbothered attitude. Your effort quickly falls flat when faced with Hannibal’s insistence. “Thank you for your concern, Dr. Lecter.” You finish with a small nod. 

“You’re attempting to distance yourself from me by referring to me with that honorific,” Hannibal states clinically. His voice is entirely void of emotion now—instead laced with a professional frigidity that you haven’t heard from him in a long time. His mask briefly cracks, as his expression shifts to one of mild curiosity. “Is it working?”

“Not quite.” You mutter. Hannibal must hear your answer, because his lips tug into a smirk for a moment before it is smoothed over. You pretend not to notice—something you’ve been doing rather frequently within this stretch of time that you’ve shared with him. “Goodbye.” You remark, turning on your heel to walk away. 

“I think we both know this isn’t goodbye.” Hannibal says in lieu of a farewell. You don’t bother to respond to that statement (and, secretly, you’re not sure what you could possibly say to that). But your shoulders stiffen as you depart and his voice follows you down the hall, up the steps, and out into the open night air. Even when you’re back at home under your covers, his remark sits heavily on your eyelids and repeatedly pulls you away from a peaceful sleep.

FOOTNOTES:

1. In The Phantom of the Opera, the Opera Ghost leaves the following note for Christine: “My dear Christine, you need have no concern as to your fate. You have no better nor more respectful friend in the world than myself.” Hannibal has absolutely read The Phantom of the Opera enough times to quote it from memory, and that is a hill I will die on. 

2. Hannibal sends a letter to Clarice in The Silence of the Lambs, where he writes: “Orion is above the horizon now, and near it Jupiter, brighter than it will ever be again before the year 2000. (I have no intention of telling you the time and how high it is.) But I expect you can see it too. Some of our stars are the same.”

In the books, Hannibal sends Will a Christmas card, but I had him send the reader a letter to make it relatable for a general audience (aka nondenominational). I simultaneously do and don’t see Hannibal as the type to write a Christmas card. On the one hand, it’s amusing to think about + he absolutely gives off the vibes of someone who writes messages in cursive with a nice pen. On the other hand, a Christmas card isn’t always super personal and I felt that a letter is more demonstrative of the depth of the relationship between Hannibal & the reader. Also, speaking of the books… Miggs is somehow far crueler and his interaction with Clarice is even more unsettling (if you’ve read SotL, I’m sure you can understand why I altered the scene here).

media i've watched/read recently: texas chainsaw massacre, halloween (michael myers fic pending); phantom of the opera (may make this a recurring section in my endnotes, 'cause it seems fun)

thank you for reading!

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

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[frozenlight-gvf]

Strawberry Wine: Part 1

pairing: barn au: danny x fem!reader (enemies to lovers)

summary: you'd spent the whole summer tormenting the new barn hand, but things were finally reaching that inevitable tipping point where you two would either fall in love or fall apart... or both

word count: 4.5k

warnings (for this part): language, dirty talk, ~digital penetration~, something to do with a hayloft...?, praise/degradation all that good stuff (18+ MINORS DNI)

a/n: this one is dedicated to my youth spent riding horses, everyone who likes imagining danny in levi’s and a cowboy hat, and “strawberry wine” by deana carter

***

Even without the heaviness of the southern July sun and that infamous humidity, you would still be hot under the collar.

You seemed to always wear a scowl. Perhaps it was because the muscles of your face were permanently screwed-up in a sun-blinded squint, or it was because Daniel never let you win a single argument. 

Susannah– your mother and owner of the Nightingale Ranch– had hired the man to help around the barn– feeding the horses and cleaning the stalls and that– but she also had a not-so-secret hope that maybe her only daughter would take a bit of a liking to him. You were always a lone wolf, howling at the moon and snarling at any human– specifically the male type– who got too close.

Daniel Wagner was only the latest victim of your bared teeth; you’d ruthlessly torn out the throats of three other barn hands in recent years, mercilessly tormenting them until they quit the job, citing “workplace tension” to Susannah as the reason for their seething resignations. But despite your constant raised hackles towards him, Daniel stayed. And he stayed with a shit-eating smile.

***

“Wagner, how many times do I have to tell you not to feed Chief until after the 4 o’clock lessons?” you scolded with a bite in your voice.

He flashed a teasing grin at you, carrying a saddle towards the tackroom.

“At least one more time.”

You stomped your boot on the packed-dirt floor of the stable, knuckles planted firmly on the waistband of your jeans. You knew tugging on the horse’s lead rope would be completely in vain, so rather, you focused your frustration at the man walking brazenly down the line of stalls.

“You know I need him for one of my riders, and he won’t do shit when he’s got food in front of him.”

“Come on, that spoiled little priss can ride any other horse here. She doesn’t always need to ride Chief. Put her on Tucker today.” 

Scoffing, you marched after him, following him towards the dusty tackroom, the saddles and pads lining the walls making the entire room smell like leather and sweat.

“And who are you to tell me which horses to put my riders on? I’ve known these horses my whole life, and I’ve been teaching lessons for three years.”

Daniel grunted a bit as he lifted the saddle up to one of the higher slots, reaching his arms above his head then turning to you, catching your eyes flickering to the glimpse of torso you got as his shirt lifted.

“My bad. I forgot that you're just so far above me, heiress."

You bristled at his nickname. “I hate it when you call me that.”

“Exactly why I do it– heiress.”

Since your mother owned the barn and all the horses, you were the technical “heiress” of all of it, just as your mother was. But Daniel always made it sound like you were some rich princess, rather than the granddaughter of an honest man who built that barn and raised all the horses. 

You grabbed a saddle from the rack, begrudgingly heading towards Tucker’s stall and tacking up the flea-bitten grey stallion. You would never admit that he was a perfect fit for your rider in the absence of Chief.

After the lesson, the little girl dismounted Tucker, going on and on how she wanted to ride him every week rather than Chief. There was no way in hell you could ever let Daniel know. 

You led Tucker back down from the lesson ring to the stable, both of you covered in sweat and desperate for a cool breeze. Once his tack was off, you patted his soaked side, feeling his huge lungs expanding and contracting rapidly, panting.

“I know, me too. Hotter than hell out there today. Let’s get you a bath, huh?”

The sun was setting over the barn, so you decided to take Tucker out back to the pasture to cool him off, rather than using the hose right outside the barn. The grass was soft and green, and the cicadas were starting to sing. You looked to your left to see Daniel hunched over the broken fence, placing a fresh plank of wood and nailing it in. The incessant noise of the hammer was spoiling what would have been an otherwise peaceful moment.

“Do you mind?” you called over to him. Daniel looked up in the direction of your voice, and a smile dissolved the concentration etched in his face. You could have sworn for a moment that he was happy to see you.

“Susannah said I have to get this done before I leave today. So… no. I don’t mind.”

You rolled your eyes and led Tucker towards the water pump, feeling the heavy softness of his hoofbeats resounding in the ground under your feet. Trying to focus on the sunset and the rousing song of cicadas rather than the pounding of Daniel’s hammer, you cranked the handle of the pump a few times, waiting for water to come out of the hose you had attached to it. 

After a few more cranks and crouching down on your knees to see what the matter was, you were about to give up on the old thing and go back to the barn to give Tucker his bath, until water exploded from the pump, sending the hose flying off and soaking you to the skin. You shouted a curse and tumbled backward in surprise, landing in the grass.

Daniel’s loud cackles from across the pasture were not welcome.

And of course you had decided to wear a white t-shirt today.

“Did Tuck get any of that water or no?”

You growled in frustration, reattaching the hose to the pump and finally getting some water to come out. You grabbed the hose tightly, wishing it was Daniel’s neck. 

“Do you wanna come do this? Considering bathing the horses is part of your job description?” You shouted as you shook the hose, coaxing the low-pressured water out from it. Your wet shirt was sticking to your skin, making the nagging heat of the day even more insufferable.

Daniel took the nail he was holding between his teeth and dropped it in his toolbox, closing it up. He gave the fence one last look-over before sauntering over to you. You tried to hide behind the horse to cover yourself; now that your shirt was practically see-through, your black bra was prominently making its presence known.

“Go home, Daniel.”

He didn’t stop walking towards you.

“But I thought you wanted me to bathe Tuck?”

He was close enough now that you had to physically angle your body away from his eager eyes. You watched as his gaze shifted from your chest to your face and back again.

“Black, huh? I always pictured you in pink,” he said with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

Your eyes shot open wide at his baiting tease, and words came flying out of your mouth.

“You shouldn’t be picturing me in anything!”

Daniel cocked his head, his smirk widening and a laugh bubbled from his chest.

“Alright then. I won’t.”

Your jaw dropped, then you clenched it up tight, hating the fact that a blush was rising to your cheeks. Maybe you could blame it on your anger. Or the summer heat. But the idea of Daniel imagining you naked made your whole face burn pink.

“I said, go home.” Your voice was quieter now, but there was still an unmistakable venom to it.

Daniel chuckled and shook his head, putting his toolbox down in the grass and extending his hand for the hose. 

“Come on, give it to me. I’m the barn boy, so I’m the one who has to keep the heiress’ perfect hands from getting all dirty.”

You kept a tight clutch on the hose, skimming the water from Tucker’s coat with your other hand. At this point, you thought your teeth might crack. Daniel moved closer to you, keeping his hand outstretched.

“Y/N, come on, let me have it.”

“No. I know what you’re trying to do. If you get the hose, you’re gonna bathe everything but the horse. And I’d rather not get any more wet than I already am.”

You heard Daniel snicker a bit, and you instantly regretted your choice of words.

“You’re fucking impossible, Wagner,” you grumbled.

He grinned, moving even closer. Leaning down, his voice was low and taunting, almost whispering in your ear.

“But you like me anyways.”

Immediately, you turned the hose on him, relishing in the brief look of surprise in his eyes as he instinctively raised his hands to cover his face. You didn’t let up, bending down to crank the handle of the pump to produce even more water for your attack.

A devilish grin crossed your face as you watched Daniel try and back away, but it was too late. His shirt was already drenched and clinging to the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen underneath. 

Before you knew it, Daniel was upon you and wrestling the hose from your grip. You yelped as you felt the water soak your hair and pour into your eyes.

“Daniel!” you shouted, trying to push him away, but one of his strong arms was wrapped tightly around you, keeping you held fast as he laughed and let the remainder of the water drain from the hose.

Sputtering, you wrenched yourself out of Daniel’s arms, stumbling slightly, trying to keep a grip on Tucker’s rope.

“Fucking dick!” you shouted, sweat and sunscreen stinging your eyes.

Daniel just shrugged and smiled, wiping his wet curls from his face.

“Oh, so you can dish it out, but you can't take it?”

“I swear to God, Wagner, I’m going to get you fired.”

He dropped the dripping hose into the grass, taking the horse’s rope from your hand as you kept trying to get your eyes to open without them burning. 

“Susannah loves me. There’s no way in hell she’d fire me.”

“Then quit,” you growled, starting to make your way through the pasture, back towards the barn.

Daniel chuckled, following close behind you and leading the horse with him. 

“Aw, but if I quit, that means you’d never get to tease me again. And that’s your favorite thing in the world.”

“My favorite thing in the world is watching you leave the barn at the end of every day so I don’t have to be around you anymore,” you shot back.

“You watch me leave every day? Someone’s obsessed,” he teased in a sing-song voice.

You clenched your fists and continued your trudge back to the barn, not turning around or responding to Daniel. When you got back, the sun had fully set, and your mother was standing at the back entrance of the barn, watching as two soaking wet figures and a horse approached. You heard her mutter something like “I don’t even want to ask” before turning and heading up towards your house, which was a short walk from the barn. 

The lights inside the barn were warm and cozy, the heat of the day still lingering. Your body was still simmering with anger as you squeezed out your hair. You turned to take Tucker’s rope from Daniel, but he didn't let go.

“I’ll put him away.” His voice was surprisingly soft, and he was wearing a warm smile as opposed to his usual roguish grin. You stared up at him, in a bit of shock– and hating how the sight of him looking down at you made your heart flutter.

“No–”

“Do you not trust me to put the horse back?”

“I don’t trust you being in the barn alone.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Set all the horses loose?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“Come on, heiress, I love these horses just as much as you do.”

You scoffed and opened your mouth to speak, but Daniel cut you off with a wave of his hand as he started walking Tucker back towards his stall.

“I know, I know, ‘I grew up with these horses,’ ‘I know them better than anyone,’ blah, blah, blah. Ok, I love these horses just a little bit less than you. Better? Are you gonna correct me on that, too?”

You cocked your head proudly, biting back a smirk. 

“No.”

“Alright then.” Danny removed Tucker’s lead rope and hung it up on the nail outside his stall, turning the lock on the gate. He turned to you, giving you a dramatic bow. “Am I dismissed, heiress?”

Without a word, you turned to leave, but you felt a firm grip on your wrist. Danny pulled you back to face him, suddenly very close to you. You could feel the heat of his muscular body radiating off of him, making you flush even hotter. Your breath hitched in your throat. Once again, his eyes flickered down from your face, catching on the areas of your body that your soaked white shirt revealed. His voice was low and smooth, sending goosebumps up and down your skin.

“Am I dismissed?”

You looked back and forth between his dark eyes, swallowing hard. Daniel smirked at your apparent speechlessness. 

“Well, heiress?”

“Don’t call me that,” you said, but your voice had lost all its usual force. Daniel’s closeness and the heat of his eyes was like anti-venom, sucking out all your bite and resentment. His hand travelled slowly from your wrist up your arm.

You backed away, shuddering slightly.

“Go home," you said, your voice sharp and trembling.

Daniel stood back up to his full height, rolling his shoulders back. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

~~~

You didn’t speak to Daniel at all the next day, practically shivering with unresolved tension. He knew something was up when you didn’t say a single word to him when he once again fed Chief before 4 o’clock; instead, you headed straight to Tucker’s stall without so much as a glance in his direction. He watched you with an eager smile quickly fading from his face as he realized you weren’t going to engage. 

After you finished your last lesson of the day, you decided to retrieve your favorite horse– a beautiful dapple grey mare called Guinevere– from her stall for a sunset trail ride. The trail wound through the thick woods that stood behind the barn, just beyond the pasture. There was a lusciously cool breeze blowing, like the Earth was sighing at the end of a long day. You sighed with it, unable to shake Daniel from your mind. 

You plodded along the trail on the back of Guinevere, enjoying the feeling of her slow, steady movements beneath you, unimpeded by a saddle. Riding bareback was your favorite way to unwind; you let your mind drift away, lulled by the warmth of your horse and her dependable gait. 

A flash of a wispy black shadow flickered through the trees. The burning gold of the setting sun almost made it look like smoke from a fire before you realized it was the tail of Ares.

“Hello?” you called through the woods, wondering if someone else was there, or if Ares had broken the lock on his stall with a kick of his powerful hooves and escaped. It wouldn't be the first time.

“Y/N?”

Of course. Ares was Daniel’s favorite horse in the barn.

Daniel came trotting around a bend in the trail, saddled up on the tall black horse. He held the leather reins in one hand, forgoing a helmet for his weathered Stetson. You internally scolded him for his blatant disregard for personal safety, but you couldn’t help but think that he almost looked like something off the cover of a Western romance novel, with the golden light shining through his dark curls and illuminating his tanned skin. And him taking a liking to the most notoriously difficult horse in the barn made it even more cliche.

“You shouldn’t be out on the trails. Don’t you have work to do?”

Daniel shrugged and urged his horse closer to you. “I finished everything before 3 o’clock. You know, I do my job a lot better when you’re not constantly torturing me all day.” Something in his voice almost sounded regretful-- like he missed your taunts. But he hid it well behind that damned charming smile.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you nudged Guinevere’s mane to turn her around, starting to head back towards the barn. The trail ride wasn’t worth it if it meant having to be out there with Daniel.

He noticed your wordless retreat. Surrendering wasn't like you. “Relax, heiress, I’m done out here. I was just taking Ares back and then heading home for the day.”

You turned Guinevere back around, facing Daniel once more. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, giving you a look of concern.

“What’s wrong?”

You shrugged, urging Guinevere forwards, passing Ares. “Nothing,” you muttered. You were glad to leave Daniel behind you, so you didn’t have to try and hide the utter longing in your eyes anymore. Ever since last night, you yearned to be close to him again. But the very fabric of your being wouldn’t allow that.

“I’ll stay at the barn until you get back. In case you need anything.”

“I’m fine,” you called back to him, already disappearing through the trees. "See you tomorrow.”

There was nothing but silence behind you, until you finally heard Ares’ heavy hoofsteps grinding on the gravel at the trailhead. You let out a deep breath. 

You tried to enjoy your ride, but not even Guinevere’s gentle presence could calm you. She could sense that you were uneasy, her head on a constant pendulum swing as she looked around the darkening woods for any sign of danger. But she didn’t know that the danger was only in your mind– the irrevocable, perilous danger of falling for a boy. 

Guinevere carried you back up to the barn, and you were surprised to see that the lights were still on. Usually when you came back from your late trail rides, the barn was dark and empty, the only sounds being the sorts and sighs of the horses. You assumed your mother was sitting in the small makeshift "office," perhaps finishing up some work.

You got Guinevere all cozy in her stall, giving her some loving pets and a kiss on her nose. But before you could close the gate, you noticed that her bucket of food was emptier than usual. You decided to head towards the back of the barn and climbed the ladder to the hayloft, where you kept a stash of treats specifically for Guinevere. A burlap bag of apples was your goal, but your mind instantly shifted when you saw a figure sat up against the hay bales.

Your heart shot to your throat and you almost fell back off the ladder in fright, but the figure reached out from the shadows to grab your wrist.

“Daniel! What the hell are you still doing here?” you whisper-shouted as he pulled you from the ladder up into the dark loft. The barn lights didn’t exactly reach that area, but you could still see his flickering smile, like a candle in the night.

“I told you I’d wait here if you needed anything,” he said, settling himself back against a hay bale, one leg kicked out.

You shook your head, sighing, trying to get your breathing to slow. “In the hayloft?”

“Where better?” He said, outstretching his arms, looking around at the space, then locking his eyes on you.

The entire reason for your being up there was forgotten. “Seriously, why are you up here?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I like it up here. It’s quiet. And I get a good view of the stable. Figured I’d get some payback and watch you go home this time rather than the other way around.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes, that familiar frustration you felt towards him starting to simmer. “I told you to leave an hour ago, Wagner. You know I don't trust you to be in the barn alone.”

“Why are you always trying to get rid of me?” he asked with a stupid grin.

“Because I hate you.” You spoke bluntly, with the intention to hurt him. Anger was curling off your skin like smoke. But your words bounced off of him– he saw right through you and locked onto the desire bubbling just under your surface.

“You don’t hate me. You hate the way I make you feel.”

“Oh, yeah? And how do you think you make me feel? Other than angry?” Your voice was louder than it probably should have been.

“Turned on,” he answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’re full of shit, Wagner.” You snarled, ready to rip him to shreds.

“But I’m right, aren’t I?” he said, standing up. “I turn you on. I get you all bothered, and if my assumptions are correct, I’m the first person that’s ever made you feel this way.”

You chuckled bitterly: an attempt to bring him down a peg, as well as to mask the sensations stirring within you. “You’re definitely not the first.”

Daniel cocked his head, and you instantly realized your mistake. You just admitted that he turns you on. You exclaimed, stomping your feet and clenching your fists. You were seconds away from digging your claws into him.

“That’s not what I meant–!”

You bumped into a stack of hay bales behind you. You hadn’t even realized you were backing up. Daniel was stalking towards you, his eyes intense.

“Oh, don’t worry, I know exactly what you meant.”

Before you could say another word, Daniel moved as close to you as he was last night, his breath fanning across your face. One of his hands grabbed the side of your face, holding you fast. You were about to protest, and Daniel could sense it, so he leaned his forehead against yours and stared into your eyes.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop.”

His lips were almost touching yours, his eyes fluttering as his breath grew heavier. His closeness almost felt like static electricity; sparks flew between your lips as they threatened to collide. Panting already, you swallowed hard as he pressed his sturdy body into yours.

“Tell me you don’t want this, heiress.”

The tension was so thick that you could see it– you could see it in the twitch in the corner of Daniel’s mouth, in the imperceptible flare of his nostrils, in the lift of his eyebrows. Months of teasing and taunting were coming to their inevitable head right before your eyes, right in front of your face. 

You didn’t tell him to stop.

He seized your face with both hands and pulled it to his, your lips slamming together in a kiss like a firecracker, setting the both of you aflame.

Your head felt hollow, weightless– but the feeling of Daniel was quickly filling it like water. He pressed you against the hay bale as the kiss deepened, one of his hands skimming down your body and squeezing your waist. You found yourself clutching at his shirt, almost like you wanted your bodies to exist in the exact same spot, with no space between them. You wanted to live inside him. 

Daniel let out a grunt, meeting your whiny sigh as his tongue pushed into your mouth, finally tasting you for the first time. His body bucked into you slightly, forcing you harder against the hay bales. 

You gasped into his mouth as you felt his thigh shove itself between your legs, applying delicious pressure on your most sensitive spot. He smirked against your lips as he started moving his leg back and forth.

“Oh, that feels good, doesn’t it?” he spoke in a soft, provocative tone, taking your little moans as a sign to keep going. “See what I can make you feel when you stop fighting me?”

You practically growled into his mouth, curling your fists around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him tighter against you. He let out a little grunt of surprise, falling into you.

“Feisty little thing, aren’t you?” He smirked down at you.

Your voice was nothing but a breathy whisper. You were just staring at his lips. “Shut up and kiss me, Wagner.”

He kept kissing you deeper and deeper, unable to get enough of you. His fingertips toyed with the hem of your shirt for a moment or two before slipping underneath the fabric to feel the soft warmth of your bare skin at your stomach. His hand was soon splayed out, his palm rubbing your waist and traveling up towards your ribs, holding you tight.

You were pinned against the hay bales by Daniel’s weight. His fingers started working at the button and zipper of your jeans, not wasting a moment before stroking your clit over your panties with the pads of his fingers. You sucked in a sharp breath, your head falling back.

Daniel chuckled darkly, and you knew he was feeling how wet your panties were. “What was that about me not turning you on? You’re soaked just from bickering with me, sweetheart.” 

Before you could shoot back, he pulled your panties to the side and made direct contact with your swollen clit, making you choke on any words you were about to fling at him. Daniel raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth in a mock look of surprise, mimicking your pitiful moment of submission.

You started grinding your hips against his fingers, instantly addicted to the friction his arousal-slicked, rough fingertips provided you. Daniel smirked, enjoying watching you already coming apart for him. 

“Yeah? My fingers feel good against your cunt, don’t they?”

All you could do was nod, squeezing your eyes shut as he slipped his fingers inside you, forcing a moan from your throat. The movements of your hips didn’t stop as you fucked yourself on his thick fingers. He matched your rhythm, hissing at the way you clenched around his fingers.

“Fuck, sweetheart… so fucking tight…”

A coil was twisting itself mad in the pit of your stomach, begging to be snapped. Daniel could tell how close you were by the crease between your eyebrows and your desperate gasps for air.

“Aw, is the heiress gonna cum on my fingers? Make the barn boy’s hands all dirty like they should be?”

You nodded frantically, mere moments from your peak.

“I bet you don’t even touch this filthy pussy with your fingers… would be such a shame to get your hands dirty, right?”

“Daniel–” you squeaked, warning him of your impending release.

“Maybe I should take care of this little cunt of yours as part of my daily chores.”

You whined as your head fell forward against his shoulder, your movements becoming frenzied as you edged closer and closer to that blissful explosion of pleasure.

“I know. Give it to me, sweetheart. Make a mess of me.”

A moan clawed up from your chest as you began to convulse, your vision going white for a moment as your entire body erupted with wanton delight. Daniel held you upright with an arm tight around your waist as your legs gave out. You clung onto him as the waves crashed against you. You could vaguely hear Daniel whispering words of praise in your ear. 

“That’s it– yeah, that’s it, good girl… good girl.”

A few moments passed before you could string a coherent thought together. You were panting, trying hard to swallow past your dry mouth. You could hardly believe what just happened– it was like your brain wasn’t allowing you to process it.

Daniel smiled at your disheveled state, picking bits of straw out of your hair.

“So, I think it’s safe to assume that you don’t actually hate me, right?” Daniel said, breaking the silence and grinning teasingly.

He slid his fingers out of you and buttoned up your jeans. Before you could speak, he was already tipping his hat with a crooked smile and descending the ladder, leaving you swaying and trying to remember your name.

"Goodnight, ma'am."

***

PART TWO

Taglist:

@sunandthemoontwinflames @brujamagik

DM me if you want to be added! I currently don’t have a post schedule for this series, so if you want to be notified for future parts, the taglist is the best way!

[prideofcelestia]

❝ with a mc who is a god when it comes to making food ❞

« characters - mammon, belphegor, solomon »

« gender neutral reader »

« headcanons »

« notes - requested by anon »

satan, asmo, beel

MAMMON

You are so distracting, human! Every time he is plotting something shady, the aroma of your food attracts him to the kitchen and renders him incapable of thinking more about his schemes. Can you not cook when he is busy with ideas to make grimm?! Kitchen duty is no excuse! You owe him a significant amount in damages! How do you wish to pay for your misdeeds? What did you say? You will make his favourite meal? Umm.. of course, he will accept the offer, but only because you are a poor human, more precisely his own servant. Since he is a kind hearted master, he will let it slide. Do not for a moment believe that he likes to eat your food! Nuh uh, the food is alright, he guesses since nobody complaints but that's all. If you ever catch him staring at your food with drool in his mouth, then you are mistaken.

It takes him a few weeks to come up with the plan of starting a restaurant, and trying to get you to be the cook. The brothers bet on how long it will take him to get that exact idea. Satan and Levi wins the bet, with Satan believing that Mammon will figure it out a day sooner and Levi expecting it to be a day later than the original date.

BELPHEGOR

Well, being the twin of the food lover and having their stomachs attached comes with its own set of quirks. For one, Belphie loves to eat, just as ardently as he loves to see his twin eating heartily and you happy. He's not one to refuse a meal you have prepared but he's just the one to to order you to feed him while he lazes around. There's something about the food you prepare, some X factor, just like the way you are special. You practically live with Beel and Belphie with how often you are requested to cook for them. Belphie is seen in your room on the days of his kitchen duty. It seems like a waste for him to cook when they can have your food. For the first time in his indolent life, he is not trying to escape responsibility completely, rather he is genuinely looking forward to your cooking at dinner.

SOLOMON

He's impressed by your culinary skills. The faith he puts in your taste is so huge that he genuinely requests you to give him tips so that he can improve his own cooking. Love is enhanced when you can feed your homemade meal to your partner, or so he says. One day you trod into his room to find a candlelit table with... is that food?... laid on it. Tada, that is the sorcerer's attempt at impressing you with his own talents... at cooking! Disastrous! A fear that if you put a spoonful of his food in your mouth, you will never wish to eat again consumes you. After quickly coming up with an excuse, you finally tell him that you find real joy in cooking for him rather than have him cook for you. You would rather impress the witty sorcerer with your skills. After all, Solomon is proficient at so many activities that you wish to have one thing completely for yourself - cooking. He tries to argue, but you put your foot down on it. Even though he is a little upset, he can't complain as long as he gets to wolf down your delicious food.

[kennyyomega]

you can play the wolf but you can't escape the woods: a hangmatt drabble

title: you can play the wolf but you can't escape the woods characters: hangman adam page, matt jackson summary: it's this promo except matt's the only one at the locker room and there's angry kissing :) word count: 963, just a quickie

BANG BANG BANG.

Three loud knocks at the locker room door startle Matt, the sole occupant of the locker room. Nick and Okada are at gorilla and Jack is—wherever it is Jack goes when he’s not needed. Everyone else knows to stay out of The Elite’s way. 

BANG BANG. 

Except for whoever is on the other side of the door. 

There’s impatience in the knocks. Anger. Desperation. Someone really needing his attention. Someone who really wants something—or someone—that he has access to. His eyes flicker to the television in the room, live feed from the show showing Bryan throwing his hands up in celebration, the belt in one and the trophy in the other. 

The knob of the door rattles sharply. 

Taking all the time in the world, Matt attempts to suppress a smile as he crosses the room, but when he swings open the door to see his tall, glowering, blonde cowboy, he struggles to bite it back. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” he says, offhanded, casual, like he wasn’t anticipating this very thing the moment Bryan got the three-count. His eyes slowly drift up Hangman, unafraid to meet the anger in his eyes. He lets his hands drop from across his chest to his pockets. “Anything I can do for you, Hangman?” 

There’s a snarl on Hangman’s face and Matt can see his anger, so white hot he seems to be struggling to get any words out. In lieu of those words, he shoves Matt stumbling back into the room. Scrambling for balance, Matt reaches out to Hangman, but his hand is forcefully swatted away. 

“Hanger, hey! You don’t have to come in so”—Hangman grabs a fistful of Matt’s shirt, twisting up the fabric, his pearl necklace catching in his fist at an awkward angle—“so hot. Ow.” 

Hangman ignores him, a little sting to Matt’s ego that makes his shaky grin turn into a bit of a grimace. The cowboy’s grip on him is tight. 

“I want us to be clear on one thing, Matt, alright?” he says, breathing hard, sweat from the matching still dripping down his brow. “I am not doing this for The Elite. I am not doing this for you. I am doing this for me. There is no game here and you are not winning.” 

“Well,” Matt drawls, unable to stop a little laugh carrying a nervous edge from bubbling up his throat. His eyes are glued to Hangman’s lips and he tries to recall the last time they were this close. Close enough to kiss. “I think I’m winning a little bit.” 

Hangman growls under his breath, a warning, and Matt squirms a little even as a thrill races up his spine. He’s seen Hangman through a lot over the years, but he’s never seen him quite like this—manic, obsessive, oozing desperation underneath all that angry bluster. 

Tentatively, like reaching out to a feral animal, Matt waggles his fingers, then wraps his hand around Hangman’s wrist and clears his throat. 

“But I’d never dream of playing games with you,” he says, lying through his teeth with another bright smile. Matt tilts his head just so, catching Hangman’s eyes, watching the flames burn behind green irises. “Never you, Hanger.” 

“You suspended me,” Hangman snarls, leaning down, closing the already small gap between them. “You suspended me and let him walk free. He ruined my life and you only bring me back now that he’s part of your little problem. You call that not playing games?” 

“Nooooo,” Matt draws the word out, waving a hand side-to-side. “I call it quid-pro-quo. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. It’s all—for mutual benefit.” 

“You little—” Hangman’s fist tightens and he shoves Matt roughly up against the wall, directly underneath the television where Bryan is giving his post-fight interview, and then Hangman’s lips are on his. 

The kiss is four months of anger and desperation. Teeth catch against Matt’s lips hard enough to draw blood, Hangman’s hand at his neck sits here with enough pressure to tease the promise of more, and a moan slips past Matt’s lips because he does want more. He craves more. Needs this side of Hangman like he needs air to breathe. He grabs the lapels of Hangman’s leather jacket, pulling him close until there’s no space left between the two of them. 

Hangman growls, his hand slipping up to Matt’s hair and pulling. Another moan spills past Matt’s lips as he knocks his hips forward, his hands slipping lower on Hangman’s torso, tracing the familiar planes of his body. 

And then, just like that, Hangman breaks the kiss with cheeks flushed, chest heaving, and his red hot anger still burning.  

 “I’ll do it,” he growls. “You asshole.” 

Matthew, dazed, blinks, runs his tongue over his lips and cheekily says, “Do what?” Hangman’s eyes darken further with an obsessive hunger for revenge. It’s a look Matt is intimately familiar with, but it’s usually one he sees in an old friend’s blue eyes, not Hangman’s green. 

Hangman lets his hand drop from Matt’s neck to his chest, his palm splayed out across his shirt.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Matt,” he says, leaning down by his ear. “It’s not as cute as you think it is.” 

And with that he’s gone. The locker room door shuts behind Hangman with a loud slam, leaving Matt in the room alone, breathless and disheveled. A moment later Nick walks in with Okada behind him, one eyebrow arched at the state his brother is in. 

“What was that—”

Matt holds up a hand and shakes his head, a slow smile spreading across his face as he smooths out the wrinkles Hangman left in his outfit. 

“Gentlemen, I think we’re going to be just fine.” 

[quailxcrossing]

thinking about some of my babies

these three are invading my thoughts so heavily recently and i am figuring out their childhood secrets, slowly but surely.....

Valkyries can be born from any home, and since there's a limited amount that can exist at any time, they're only born in some period after a previous one passes! Esperanza was born in a small home out in the desert boondocks outside of Turquoise Springs, to a family who had a stain on their name since her father was known for pulling terrible business buying and reselling property. no one liked him bc he was basically a fantasy airbnb flipper and sucked ass

and once Esperanza's Valkyrie tells appeared when she was a few years old (mostly the random wings tbh) her parents thought she would be their big break and finally earn their family some respect, since the reputation of the Valkyries was very well-known!! they hoped their baby would at least bring some good luck! she hadn't gotten her card pulled yet so they didn't know she was The Lovers yet, butttt they could've probably guessed seeing that position had recently been opened.....

Esperanza liked the bigger village a lot, but to her family's disappointment, she HATED people knowing she was a Valkyrie. they always treated her weird.....Valkyries (to keep things brief) are basicallyyyyy just. very densely magical creatures. their connection to the cards and fate is very strong, very closely tied to the world's religion, so people treated Esperanza with almost too much respect that this little baby wanted. she really wanted to make friends with other kids, and she was excited a big village meant she could go to school normally! she took to going outside with her wings covered, lying to people she was just a normal human (with some impish features), which her parents HATED .. but Esperanza remained whimsical

she met Lwaukee the season before she was set to start Tuesday's equivalent of elementary. the little kitty was creeping around and scampering around the washes where Esperanza had taken to enjoy playing (kicking up dirt and running around collecting sticks. baby games) and they played silently a couple times chasing each other back and forth before Lwaukee would randomly get scared and dart off. Esperanza kept returning there hoping Lwaukee would show up.

their relationship changed drastically the time Esperanza ended up bringing a snackie- a little pouch of sun-dried chub that her family had saved up to buy from one of the market stalls (seafood is quite rare out in the desert, these chub were local tho because they lived in Turquoise Springs!!) Esperanza thought she could share them with her new buddy!! maybe they'd be actually buddies!!! her parents always said that material goods were the fastest way to a person's heart! ^D^

Lwaukee stole all of them. immedically. he ate them so fucking fast and Esperanza just went 😲🥲

then Lwaukee scampered off again

so she brought a little bit more the next time, which Lwaukee wolfed down again. Esperanza was really concerned, thinking maybe Lwaukee was homeless, or his parents didn't feed him, so she asked- and Lwaukee finally spoke to her, explaining the food at home "made him sick". Neither of them knew what it meant, but basically Lwaukee is the only cat/human in his house, and he had a combo of a strange diet + ARFID. his parents didn't know how to make him eat, since he could only stomach very certain foods without getting sick. seafood, mostly, meats, and very small portions of fruits and veggies. so basically Lwaukee's parents were going "my kid wont eat his brocolli!! tsk silly kid" while Lwaukee was dry-retching in the background, if he can manage to get it into his mouth

so Esperanza really did win his heart over with food; the two quickly become more comfortable with each other and shared their snacks and continued to play In The Ditch. you know when you just play in the ditch....real desertheads understand

they met their dear friend Georgiana when Lwaukee and Esperanza were trotting town on their way to their favorite dirt patch, and Lwaukee thought it would be a good idea to duck through the nearby marketplace (just wanted to steal some fish) (stole some fish)

Georgiana was a small single child from a fisherman's family, very sheltered just like Esperanza, but with an intense fear of outsiders. their family was all made of hunters, and living off the land was everything Georgiana knew. they lived a few villages over closer to the rivers and they only visited for markets to sell their catches. so when Lwaukee tried to grab a bass cut (Esperanza made the surprised Pikachu face) Georgiana immediately took after him- Georgi's parents told them it wasn't worth it, but Georgiana is really protective of their fishes, very proud to be working the stall...Lwaukee took off cackling but Georgiana caught him very easily. Esperanza explained the situation and apologized 500 times and...hey do you wanna play In The Ditch with us?? you look really strong! you could pick up a lot of sticks when we build forts in the ditch!

Georgiana was terrified of this approach, but they let Lwaukee keep the fish. and guess who quietly showed up next time their family was in town and Esperanza and Lwaukee were rolling in the dirt