#this is a fraction of what it looks like tbh

[hehosts-moved]

the academy / "that place" (academy AU)

[rafumeika]

What Mahito did: Manipulate Junpei into being his friend and then killed him in front of Yuji, laughed about Yuji's desperation to save him, killed Nanami, got Nobara into a coma, destroyed one of Todo's hands

Yuji with Mahito at the end:

What Sukuna did: Threaten to kill Yuji's friend multiple times, ripped Yuji's heart out of his chest and then tricked him into making a Binding Vow that he would have to forget in order to bring him back to life, laughed at Yuji when he desperately begged him to try and save Junpei, told him over and over again that his mere existence would bring destruction simply by being his vessel, destroyed Shibuya and killed countless of innocent people, ditched Yuji to make Megumi his new vessel, then sinked Megumi's soul as deep as he could in darkness in order to keep control of his body, killed Tsumiki, killed Gojo, killed Kashimo, killed Higuruma, killed Choso, almost killed Yuta and pushed him into using Kenjaku's CT to get into Gojo's body, kept praising literally everyone else but Yuji (while still trying to kill them), who he kept talking shit about instead, got pissed when Yuji showed pity and told him that he would kill every single person still left alive that Yuji cared about before finally killing him

Yuji with Sukuna at the end:

[nostalgia-tblr]

I watched Avengers: Age of Ultron (apart from I skipped some overly long action sequences) and I am not sure so can someone tell me whether or not Tony Stark was the baddy in that film? Because about halfway through I was sure he was but then it was maybe just an evil robot after all and I am confused because either this film was surprisingly subversive or it was about robots hitting each other.

[rendevok]

I stopped looking at numbers & post metrics forever ago but every once in a while i notice them again and i get such whiplash bc what do you MEAN my friend is not getting 10 bajillion shares? They're FAMOUS! They're SPINNING GOLD!!! What is WRONG with you people

[hickeygender]

reading an unpublished partial draft and realizing that the fic isn't gonna finish itself

[fathomlessgaze]

bring your child to work day: zayne and his daughter spend a day at the hospital

fluff, dad!zayne/reader (a little bit), ~2.2k

warnings: reader only makes a small appearance it's mostly about zayne + his daughter spending quality time together tbh, allusions to zayne + mc's lore (no specific memory idt just the overarching theme of their story), zayne is a devoted girl dad bc i believe in girldad!zayne...

a/n: mc/reader + zaynes daughter is named zenith here bc i liked the idea of them sharing an initial 😭 meaning the highest point/the point right above you in the sky bc i think thats what she would be for zayne+mc like one of the best moments of their lifetimes :( anyway it's mentioned in the fic but shes the spitting image of zayne thats his mini-me fr

“good morning,” zayne says, passing by the nurses’ station without much fuss. it’s an ordinary wednesday, after all.  

“morning,” greyson echoes with a curt nod, his eyes still focused on the files he’s reviewing from an overnight patient. 

“mornin’!” a third voice calls happily. 

greyson freezes, his papers falling unceremoniously on the floor. “huh!?” he exclaims, a little too loud for a hospital corridor. 

however the chief pays his outburst no mind, and he suddenly sees why, greyson’s gaze finding the little girl perched on his boss’ hip. of course, he remembers, it’s “bring your child to work” day. but for some reason, he never thought that zayne would actually bring his child to work. perhaps that explains why he’d made sure no surgeries were scheduled for this day weeks ago. 

zayne strokes her dark hair, brushing a loose strand from her pigtails behind her ear. “this is dr. greyson,” he speaks softly, pointing in his direction. “dr. greyson, meet zenith.” 

“nice to meet you!” she exclaims, waving a chubby hand in the air, paying no mind to his wide eyes and slack jaw. 

she can’t be over four judging from her height, and, of course, greyson knew zayne had a daughter, but he didn’t really know. he remembers you mentioning her at your appointments, the photos on his desk and, of course, zayne’s paid time off actually being used at personal all time highs (which had already been on the incline after you moved in and then got married) since a few years ago, but it still feels surreal to actually see him with his child. 

if she has any opinion on greyson’s lack of response besides the cartoon birds that would appear around his head if they were in an animated tv show, she gives no hint. instead, she smiles brightly, her green eyes sparkling as she takes zayne’s glasses off his face and fists the lenses, trying to rotate them in her tiny hands and fit them on her own face. 

somehow, with the much too large frames perched on her nose, she looks even more like her father. everything, from her dark hair tied with ribbons to her hazel eyes, the curve of her brow and little nose, she is her father’s daughter to a t. perhaps the only un-zayne-like thing about her is the permanent cheeriness in her gaze and her gummy smile. that she must’ve gotten from you. while greyson has definitely noticed how his boss has become a little less taciturn and stern over the years, he would be lying to himself if he said he ever thought zayne would become even a miniscule fraction as bubbly as the daughter he holds close right now.

“i didn’t know you were bringing your daughter in today!” greyson exclaims, the realizations of today finally settling and coming together in his mind.

there’s a fondness in his eyes as he glances to zenith, his lips quirking the slightest bit upwards. “she’s been asking for weeks to come with me; i figured now would be the best time with the other kids here. i know you’ve seen the schedule for today, but—”

“oh my god!” yvonne gasps, speeding towards the trio gathered. “you brought your daughter, dr. zayne!” she extends her hand to the girl, which she happily takes. “i’m yvonne, i work with your dad.” 

“i’m zenif,” she babbles, her syllables getting caught on her missing tooth. 

simultaneously both greyson and yvonne coo at the little girl. 

“aren’t you the cutest thing? i’ve seen so many pictures of you but you’re just the dearest little one, hm?” 

and word of mouth travels fast, because, soon enough, a whole crowd has come to fuss over the most adorable little girl who looks exactly like the aloof department chair and has the sweetest smile. she graciously accepts their compliments with quiet ‘thank you's' and hides her face in her father’s neck and shoulder, causing even more ‘aww’s to fall from his colleagues’ lips. when the attention dies down, zayne finally gets to his office, nearly an hour later than he usually would have by now, but he can’t even be annoyed. his little girl is the most precious; of course, he would react in the same way. 

he shuts the door behind them and puts his bag down by his desk, moving zenith so she has a place on his lap when he sits down. “what would you like to do today, hm?” he asks, booting up his computer and finding a pile of files from the depths of a drawer. 

“what do you do?” she asks.

he hums. “well sometimes i see patients who don’t feel well, sometimes i do surgeries on them so they feel better, and sometimes i have to do paperwork. i don’t have any patients or surgeries scheduled today, so we can do whatever you want; how does that sound?”

“what about paperwork?” she exclaims. “you said that’s what you do?” 

“would you like to do paperwork with me?” 

she nods firmly. “i wanna spend time with daddy!” 

his heart softens, his already abnormally warm (at least for work standards) gaze growing even more endeared by his precious, favorite little girl. “you want to spend time with me?” 

her head bobs and she wraps her arms around his neck, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “of course! i love you, daddy.”

pressing a kiss to her cheek, he can’t help a smile. of course he knows she loves him, loves spending time with him. when he’s home she’s practically glued to his hip. and he tries his best to make sure she knows the same. but sometimes it’s just nice to hear it from someone you love. “and i love you, princess.” 

it used to be a foreign expression on his tongue many, many years ago, before you’d returned to his life, and especially before she came into his life. but as time flew by, thanks to you and your help, he’d grown familiar, comfortable, fond with it. while he knew you didn’t mind him not saying that as much as other boyfriends and husbands might from all your conversations, knowing he expressed how much he loved you and then some through other ways, he knew she might not have understood just how her father expressed his feelings and fondness at her young age. 

so beyond his quiet actions, he makes sure to tell her. whether it’s a post-it note in her lunchbox, right next to the heart-shaped sandwich with the crusts cut off, just how she likes it, whenever it’s his turn to make her lunch, or a birthday card she’ll know how to read one day, he tries to tell her through words too. ‘i love you’ went from an expression he seldom said or heard, to one he couldn’t get enough of, whether it be from your lips or hers, and one he always wanted you both to know. 

“let’s see what kind of paperwork we can find for you, then.” coincidentally a knock sounds from the other side of the door. “come in.” 

“they brought some donuts and coloring pages out in the lobby,” yvonne says, popping her head in. “i figured you’d both be interested.” 

“thank you, yvonne.” when the door shuts, zayne leans back to look at his daughter, brushing her hair. “what do you think about that? do you want to take a look?” with her eager nods, zayne stands.

“i wanna walk,” she pouts, tugging on his once crisp button-up, and he puts her down accordingly, taking her small fingers in his. 

they make their way hand in hand down the corridor, drawing even more endeared coos from the staff until they reach the table. kneeling down to her height, he points at a smaller kids table in the corner.

“how about you get some coloring sheets and crayons? i can get you a donut and we can head back and do some paperwork,” he explains.  

she happily obliges, skipping over and inspecting the books with a familiar seriousness (which also makes the other staff coddle her just as much as her bright smiles. “aren’t you so precious!?” “she’s just like her father!” zayne can’t help the small quirk of his lips when he hears how cute they find his daughter, because she is, speaking from his personal experience.). meanwhile he grabs a strawberry donut with sprinkles and a chocolate one, both her favorites, placing them on a napkin and grabbing a few extra knowing how she takes after you in terms of her messiness. 

meeting her in the corner, he bends down, taking a quick look at the drawings she’s taken. “find anything you like?” he asks.

raising her pages to his eyes, she beams. “they have the bears!” 

he smiles softly, tucking her loose hair away. “yes, they do,” he hums. “who knew?” 

it totally wasn’t like he’d ordered specific character coloring books when it was time for the cardiology department to refill their kids’ activity section. it totally wasn’t like he’d looked for some ones he knew his daughter would love. it wasn’t like that at all; zayne maintains he’s as impassive and serious at work as ever…he’s lying to himself.

when she gathers her crayons, the duo make their way back to his office. the day flies quickly by, her babbles and light, curious questions bringing a new level of comfort and joy zayne never thought he’d get from his job. he loves what he does, of course, but everything just seems more enjoyable and memorable with his daughter by his side. or rather, with her on his lap, in her own little world of just her and her beloved dad, oblivious to the seriousness of the paperwork her father is dealing with as she busies herself with her own “paperwork” and scribbles vibrant colors all over the once black and white image.

and zayne thinks he would be perfectly content if it were to stay like this forever. even with all his prizes and awards, nothing could compare to the reward and title of being your husband and zenith’s father. 

he lowers his pen to the desk from his fingers, using his free hand to rest his head as he admires the precious life before him. “i love you, princess,” he murmurs, pinching her cheek. 

“i love you too, daddy!” she turns to face him, crumbs of donut glaze still around her lips. 

he takes a napkin and dabs at her face before checking his watch. you’d said you’d meet them around now… “how about we get lunch soon?” 

right on time, a knock sounds from the door, which opens to reveal you. “how are my favorite doctors doing?” you exclaim. 

“mama!” she cheers, hopping off zayne’s knee and running into your waiting embrace. 

kissing her head, you give her a squeeze. “how’s work with dada going?” 

“i love it here! daddy colors and eats dessert all day,” she cheers. 

glancing to your husband, you chuckle. “is that so?” 

he makes his way towards you both, giving you a peck as you stand, your daughter now on your hip. “something like that,” he mumbles. 

“then maybe i should become a doctor too,” you tease. “is now a good time for lunch?” 

he nods, opening the office door once more and allowing you to pass first. 

“i wanna become a doc-tor, too,” zenith ponders, suddenly serious with her small fingers tapping at her chin as she thinks, a habit no doubt from her father. “then daddy and i can color and eat snacks together forever!” 

“is that so?” you ask, but you can’t help the smile you shoot at your husband. 

she bobs her head, a determined furrow in her brow. “i wanna be with mama and daddy forever.” 

zayne has a warm fondness in his gaze as his eyes find his daughter. she looks up to him with wide eyes and her gummy grin, reaching her small hand out for his own, which he happily obliges. her tiny fist wraps around two of fingers, and he briefly wishes that she could stay his little girl for eternity. she doesn’t need to know how hard her dad’s job actually is, how much work he had to put in to get to where they are now, the sorrows of her parents’ past. she is a precious gem, the shining peak of all your shared lifetimes. 

this one existence, finally at peace, a happy ending for you and him, domestic bliss with the two, now three, of you, he thinks it’s worth every tear that’s been shed before. and maybe in another universe and lifetime, the you’ll get another happy ending. he thinks that even if it’s a simple life, as long as it’s with the two of you, it’d be one he cherishes and treasures close to every fiber of his existence, one he would fight all there may be to remember, for no god could tear his devotion. maybe he’d even bet every splintering past life that led to this one was worth the years he’s gotten to spend with you in this one, and the years still to come. so he hopes she stays as optimistic and bright as ever, that you stay by his side in this heavenly life he could only once dream of. after all, ice is made of crystals.

[safination]

Little Things

|Masterlist|

Pairings: Alastor x Reader Warnings: None! TLDR: There are days when Alastor just doesn't want to be touched, and you totally understand that. You're one your best behavior to not touch Alastor. Surely, with such an attentive partner, no misunderstanding will occur.

My inbox is currently accepting requests. Feel free to ask for some stuff. I'm in a mood to write and create, so lend me your ideas and I'll bring them to words. This is a drabble. It's weird not to make full one-shots tbh, but meh, wasn't in the mood to make this a whole one-shot.

It’s the little things, really.

Alastor sits towards the edge of the bar, his stool nudged just a fraction farther than usual.  Charlie leans forward, eyebrows furrowed as she rants about this and that and this and that.

Tentacles slither out the shadows, wrapping themselves around the legs of Alastor’s stool. No one really notices when the tentacles pull him another fraction farther away.

Or, how just this morning, Alastor took time out of his day to grab a bowl, and carefully place the three eggs Niffty asked for.  The bowl slides across the table instead of being placed into her tiny hands.

See? The little things.

Heh . . .

You deserve a pat on the shoulder, honestly. Because what a considerate partner you are! Alastor didn’t even have to mention the slightest discomfort, yet still, you know he’s in ‘no touch!’ mode.

That’s why, for the entire day, you’ve been supporting Alastor’s ‘No-Touch’ day.

The rest of Hell’s day goes something like this:

Alastor asks you to hand him his coat.

And like the considerate partner that you are, you hand it to him. Although, you do have to bite your cheek to stop yourself from helping him wear the thing.

If it were any other day you would wrap it around his shoulders, and hold the back as he slips it around his arm. Then you would trail your fingers across his lapels to adjust its fit. Maybe, even give his bowtie a slight tug.

But you are a very, very, good partner.

So, your hands are kept to yourself, and the coat is placed on the table with a smile.

The devil seems keen on tempting you, but no, you are not giving in. (If you were in the garden, not even the devil himself could make you eat that apple.)

It’s been quite the productive day, and you definitely deserve an award! Not once have you touched Alastor, not have you stepped a foot into his personal space. It’s been difficult if you were being honest, but oh, well.

Maybe you’ll buy yourself a sweet, little treat for being such a considerate partner to Alastor. He’s quite lucky. Very few are as kind as you are, and even less are as attentive to his needs.

Just like right now.

There’s a gaping space between your bodies. It’s an easy thing to place yourself on the edge of the bed, careful not to roll and wrap your arms around Alastor.

Really, an award is in —

Alastor shoots up the bed, his note turned into the air with a scowl. “I refuse to keep playing this childish game,” he says, huffing at you. “I’ve been waiting all day for you to sort it out, but I’ve had enough.”

“Dearest . . .” You blink at him, pushing yourself up to sit as well. “I . . . What?”

His lips twist, and once more he huffs. It reminds you of a buck. “I would rather that you tell me that you’re upset with me instead of doing these ridiculous little things.”

“Ridiculous?”

“Ridiculous and childish!” Alastor points a finger at you, and there’s this petty voice urging you to chomp it off for such an audacity. “Do not confuse me for a fool, dearest. You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

“Well, of course, I have!” you say. “You’ve been in a mood since the moment you woke up. The cat almost got its tail bitten for rubbing between your legs.”

Alastor stares at you, an incredulous look on his face. “Ridiculous,” he tells you. “You are, absolutely, ridiculous.”

“I think you mean ‘considerate’.”

He flops back down to the bed, then rolls to you like some fucking child. Alastor keeps rolling until you don’t know whose limbs belong to who. His fingers curl around your shirt as he buries his weight deeper into you.

It’s the little things, remember? Like how you reach out to play with the strands of his hair until you’re finally combing through.

“I thought you were in a mood.”

“I am,” Alastor tells you, and deeper and deeper and deeper he goes. “All day I’ve been wanting nothing but this, yet you were so quick to deny me.”

“Don’t your moods usually require personal space?”

Alastor pulls you even closer, until your personal space becomes his as well. “This belongs to me,” he says. “And I don’t appreciate it being taken away from me.”

[hanasnx]

ermmm jj and face fucking ? 😁

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: f!reader | reader has hair that swings in a ponytail and is a kook | situationship w jj | hair pulling | oral (m receiving) NOTES: tbh i was having trouble imagining jj face fucking but i gave it my best shot and i like what i came up with | based on dwight’s interaction with angela in the office during the rabies fun run

JJ MAYBANK out with the crew when he spots you. It doesn’t take long before the others follow the source his eyes are glued on. You’re out for a jog, wearing your work-out clothes that accentuate your shape, ponytail swinging with each stride. JJ moistens and draws his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches, waiting for you to get closer while his friends jeer at him immaturely. John B pats him hard on the back, “Go, man, before she gets away.” he encourages, pushing at JJ to get him in gear.

“I’m goin’, I’m goin’.” he replies, and he hangs his head with a shake at the chorus of the crew yipping and hollering. Chasing you, he’ll admit he gets a good view of your behind. So he idles for a second to watch how your ass jiggles with each sway, and he ignores the creeping urge to tap your backside when he approaches you. He gets in a jogging stance to blend in with you, slowing his pace when he reaches your side to fall into step with you. “Howdy there, kook.”

You playfully roll your eyes with a scoff. “Hey, JJ.” you relent in a musical pant, refusing to look at him because you know he’s trying to make fun of you. You can tell in the way he holds himself, how he swings his arms, it’s an exaggerated version of what you’re doing as you run.

“You look cute as a button. Worked up quite a sweat.” he flirts, advancing into you, and you absorb his coy bump. You can feel how his gaze burns you, stuck on how your sweat drips down your neck into the valley of your cleavage. Briefly he imagines licking it off.

“Thanks, JJ.” you tell him, in the same melody as before. He butters you up a lot, you know what he’s here for. “What do you want?” you ask curiously.

“Look, there’s a little thing back at the Chateau tonight. You should, uh,” He sniffs, and swipes his nose with his knuckle, glancing away. It takes him a fraction of a second to gather the courage to invite you normally. How was a situationship supposed to act in this situation, he didn’t know. “you should come.”

You pull your lips to one side in thought. “I dun-no, Jayj, I’m supposed to meet someone tonight.” You keep your voice light and sing-songy, letting him know you’re not rejecting him, just teasing him with the prospect you might not be able to make it.

“Hey, no skin off my back.” he replies, suspending his flat hands in the air in surrender. He drops them. “You’ll just have to promise I get to wrap that pretty ponytail ‘round my palm tomorrow night.” It’s said so casually, it finally earns him a proper look from you.

You do end up going, you do end up drinking, and you do end up right where he wants you. Nestled between his legs. Rope of hair wound in his fist. “Didn’t think you’d end up back here, huh? Thought you’d be rid of me?” He’s spitballing, but there’s a twinge of sincerity, as if a pretty kook like you wouldn’t waste your time with him. He guides your head up and down, his grip on your hair stinging your scalp but you don’t mind. You like it. Sweet whimpers expel from your mouth every time your throat isn’t stuffed by the head of his cock nudging it’s way in there.

Your tongue swipes at the underside of his dick, lining the lip of his tip as it pulls out, only to be buried back in when he yanks you to his crotch by your hair. Like a leash, it leads you as he uses you to get himself off.

[beelmons]

cw: i dont even know, cock sucking!!!!, slight exhibitionism, kind of dom!spencer but not completely, he teaches!!!

A/N: as a gift for my lovely adorable wife @ihavemanyhusbands i have written this, again pure filth like i know she likes <3 (coulda be more puerco tbh)

“...and now, Dr. Reid will explain a bit more about the course content to the board, this with the purpose of seeking the approval for it to become a curricular class. Dr. Reid, you have our attention.” the head of the psychology department offered the floor to Spencer. 

“Right, hello, my name is Dr. Spencer Reid, I hold various credentials in psychology and sociology and I’m what’s commonly known as a profiler with the FBI.” he cleared his throat slightly, his voice being oddly coarse “Please excuse my turned-off camera, I’m feeling a tad ill.” 

Whenever he had online meetings with the school staff he was always so proper, that’s why it was so amusing, to you, to see him sitting there lying his ass off. Granted, he was not all that well, his body had woken up with painful stiffness, or rather, it was a specific part of him, and you were already taking care of it. 

You felt him twitch in your mouth when he began explaining, his voice having trouble keeping a steady, professional tone as he normally did. Something about the curriculum of the class, you couldn’t care less, especially when his delicious precum had begun to leak against your tongue; his hands were moving as they usually did when he talked, even when the rest of the members couldn’t see him. 

Every couple seconds he would fall silent to contain a moan, take a deep breath, fake a cough, and excuse himself before he continued talking. You decided to give him a small break, your lips leaving his shaft free to interrupt the stimuli; he seemed to relax when he noticed the lack of contact, regardless of how much he was enjoying it, and that didn’t sit right with you. Your mouth changed targets instead, and so it latched onto one of his testicles. It was a wet, hungry, and messy suck, and once you were satisfied with the moisture your tongue left on it, you let go with a loud pop. 

You were able to appreciate his ears reddening in shyness, unsure if the sound could be heard by the rest of the people involved in the call. You sort of guessed he would look down at you disapprovingly, so you placed your face right below his cock and wore your most innocent, merry-go-lucky smile. He stole a glance, as expected, underneath the desk where his laptop was laying, and in between his legs, the place you had made a nest for yourself in, could see the vivid image of your angelic face tainted by the lewdness of his hardened dick, the perfect contrast he adored so much. The sight made his member pulse up, and it tapped at your cheek when it landed back down. 

He continued to talk and leave you neglected, much to your disapproval, so you decided to continue with your little game. Your head went back to bobbing itself, sloppily, onto his cock, tongue pressed firmly to taste every bit of flesh available to it. 

“...and that’s the overall impact we expect it to have on psychology graduates. Thank you.” he finally wrapped up his speech. 

“Thank you, Dr. Reid. Now, the board will present arguments in favor or against adding the class to the regular curriculum…” the chairman prompted the continuation of the meeting. 

You heard a small click of a button, and that’s when you realized he had muted the mic, and it was your turn to receive a fraction of his attention. He pushed his chair back, forcing you to let go of your preferred suck treat, so he could properly look at you. His hand grabbed at your chin to have you staring at his face. 

“Are you insane? Do you want me to lose my job?” he asked with seriousness, but the rapid breathing told you he was more than enjoying the little service. 

“A little.” you said halfheartedly “It kinda interferes with my job.” 

he raised his eyebrows in disbelief “Really? And what job is that, exactly?” he said in a sarcastic tone. 

“I’m a professional cock sucker, of course.” the twinkle in your eye as you joked made his heart flutter in ways only you could achieve. 

“Come on, up.” he said, slightly pulling on your chin to drag you out “Up, up.” he continued to command. 

You grumbled in complaint as you crawled from underneath the wooden furniture and got up. Maybe you had done it this time, you finally tested his endless patience. You had begun thinking how to apologize to him, after all you really didn’t mean any harm. Your train of thought was interrupted, however, by a grip on your hips that directed you to his lap, not quite letting you take a seat but rather hover over him with your back facing his front. 

Without being able to fully process what was going on, one of his fingers pushed the fabric of your panties aside; the previous night had been a hot one, so you had slept in your underwear. He grabbed his cock by the base to align his tip with your entrance, and with an abrupt movement he pushed you down, filling you up immediately. 

Your hands landed on the desk to give you something to grip on and keep yourself steady as his hips bounced you up and down. You almost immediately began to moan in pleasure, head thrown back in ecstasy. In front of you, you could see the laptop laying about, with the people of the meeting still talking about something you didn’t understand, and didn’t care to understand; your hands wandered to the mouse pad on the machine, dangerously moving the cursor over the camera toggle button, if you were to, say, accidentally press on it, everyone would see who the respected Dr. Reid really was, the cunt addict that hid behind the professional facade of a genius. 

“Don’t even think about it.” as if he could read your mind, his arms left your hips to grab yours instead. 

The grip was slightly painful as he pulled them behind your back, swiftly keeping them behind you, away from the device, with some force. He couldn’t see the mischievous grin on your face, having been caught made you feel the best type of naughty. His thrusts had gotten rougher, his pretend anger showing in his movements, his groans were a delight to your ears, head shoved against the fabric of your pajama top trying to contain his sounds. He had long forgotten about whatever the board was saying, too lost in the velvet sensation of your walls clenching around him, and praying to tesla that he could fuck you a bit longer before he eventually bursted with the orgasm he had been wanting to experience for the last twenty minutes. 

“Then, that concludes our meeting, the board’s resolution will be given the day after tomorrow. Now, as it’s pertinent we need to take a picture to commemorate the board reunion, so I’ll ask you to open your cameras for a little bit, that includes you, Dr. Reid, I promise it will be quick.” the man on the screen said. 

“Shit-” Spencer emitted as the mention of his name suddenly snapped him to the reality of his event. He tried to push you off his cock, but you childishly pressed yourself further down. “Come on!” he complained “At least hide!” 

He began to panic seeing that everyone else was waiting for him to open the camera lens for the picture. In the rush, he pushed you down by the head, forcing you to get under the desk, or rather only half of your body under the desk. In the process, he hit your forehead lightly with one of the corners. 

“Spencer!” you yelled at him in complaint, and he muttered a quick ‘sorry’

Your position ended up completely awkward, his cock still in your cunt, your feet firmly on the ground, and your body bent forward underneath the desk, your hands managed to press themselves on the floor as well to keep the balance, but you huffed offendedly at how he had left you. 

“Excuse me, I was just freshening up a bit.” he said, and you could deduce he had toggled the camera and the mic on “I’m ready.” 

You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of manhandling you like that, he had to suffer for it a little bit. Your hips began to rock in a circular motion as you rocked back and forth, fucking yourself to his dick. Soft moans left your lips even when your arms were beginning to get tired, your walls clenching around his member with the speed of an approaching orgasm. 

You couldn’t see him, but the blush on his ears had spread to his entire face, his entire lower body began to spasm; his hand gripped tightly onto your buttock trying to stop your movement, but you were not to be contained anymore, your hips continued their rhythm, and you could feel his fingers getting more desperate to stop you. No wonder, since seconds later you could feel yourself being filled up with his cum. 

He tried to keep his apparent composure on camera, even when you heard his pleasured whine echo throughout his studio room, accompanied with your moan of pleasure as you came undone against his cock. 

“Thank you, everyone, for your time and attention, oh, and Dr. Reid.” the chairman spoke again “Please take something for your fever, you look awfully flushed.” 

“Will do.” he simply answered with his signature awkward smile and a nod to go along. 

Once you had ridden your climax down, you attempted to crawl from under the desk to set his member free. Naive movement on your part, since the second he began to slide out of you his hands roughly pulled your hips back again, having himself fully covered by your pussy once more. 

“Not so fast.” 

You couldn’t see his face, but the tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine. It was time for punishment, time for retaliation.

[fbfh]

curiosity is a wonderful thing - ch 8

wc: 3.1k

genre: slowburn, friends to lovers, fluff

pairing: audrey x ben, mal x ben????, eventual ben x daughter of alice!reader

warnings: audrey being a lil bitch again, mind control/hypnosis magic, implanted thoughts, minor emotional manipulation from mal

summary: disappointed again by Audrey's motivations, Ben prepares for a huge tourney match. But something - or someone - becomes very distracting all of a sudden.

song recs: the king - sarah kinsley, mind control - topsecret, do it for her - steven universe soundtrack

a/n: so we took in a stray cat (orange ofc) and he literally did this to me the other day???? peak orange cat behavior tbh. not my pic if that wasn't obvious

TAGS @yesv01 @magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain

“So, where’s bunny?” Audrey asks Ben as they head to the tourney field. She says his nickname for you with a note of venom. Even though it rarely happens, whenever someone else refers to you as bunny it always hits Ben’s ear wrong. 

“She’s probably just running late,” Ben says, “nothing out of the ordinary.” 

He says it sweetly. You three were supposed to meet up before the match today, but Ben figures you probably took a wrong turn, or got tied up in a project. Ben covers for you like that a lot. He doesn't mind at all, and since he can't go with you to Wonderland, he feels like this is the next best thing. Or the least he can do, he supposes.

“Well great, that's…” Audrey starts, trailing off as she gets distracted by a group of girls. More specifically, by how amazing their hair is. She tries to pay attention to what Ben is going on about this time, but their hair… it’s too distracting. It looks photoshopped. It looks like the hair they use in salon ads and shampoo commercials. She glares at them, her gaze venomous until she realizes her eyebrows are all scrunched up. She snaps out of it, smoothing out her face. First not just one person with better hair than her, but multiple girls with hair so much better than hers that she’s going to get wrinkles over it? What’s next, mixing patterns? Unblended eyeshadow? Orthopedic shoes?

“Do you think they actually paid for those?” She spits conspiratorially.

“D- uh, they- they might have…” Ben sputters at the sudden change of topic, following her gaze and trying to figure out what exactly has got Audrey in such a bad mood suddenly. 

“She did it to Jane’s hair too,” Audrey continues in that tone she only gets when spreading gossip. “And Fairy Godmother’s not happy about it.”

Oh. She’s talking about their hair. 

The realization dawns on Ben, and he takes a closer look at the group of girls. The girl on the left’s new color and style remind him a lot of yours. It looks good. Ben glances back at Audrey, realizing she’s this upset over someone else’s hair.

“I mean… what’s the harm?” Ben starts gently. From what you’ve told him about Mal and Evie, Mal is probably just trying to make friends with the makeup and fashion tips she’s picked up from Evie - and as far as Ben’s concerned, that’s something that should be encouraged. Before he can finish his thought, Audrey interjects, as she so often does when the conversation isn’t about her.

“It’s gateway magic!” She exclaims incredulously, as if this should be obvious to him. 

Gateway magic? That’s… not a thing… Ben thinks, wondering for a fraction of a second if Audrey might be joking. The only reason that magic is retired in the first place is because of the technology boom that came from Auradon’s alliance with Atlantis. All the new technology can do pretty much anything magic can do in people’s day to day lives. 

Aside from that, it’s also much easier to regulate and add in safety precautions. Most people have become more interested in exploring and expanding new technologies than focusing on magic and its traditions. Ben has a feeling that in the coming years, magic will eventually begin to be re-incorporated into society, but for now, it’s somewhat obsolete. Technology is easier to learn, gets more consistent results, and you don’t need to dig through ancient texts for information - one quick Doogle search and you’re good to go. 

“I mean, sure, it starts with the hair.” Audrey continues, and Ben can sense a tangent coming. “Next thing you know it’s the lips, then the legs, then the clothes, and then everybody looks so good, and…”

As he listens, Ben starts to see her point. If using magic to alter the way you look becomes common, it could have dire consequences. Adolescence is a fragile time, and if cosmetic alterations start running rampant at Auradon Prep, who knows how detrimental that could be to the student body’s self image and self esteem? The last thing Ben wants is to contribute to misogynistic, unrealistic beauty standards, give young girls even more unattainable ideologies to compare themselves to. 

He’s sure Mal is well intentioned with all this makeover stuff, and he doesn’t want to punish her for efforts to make friends - solve one problem by causing another. If he can just talk to her, have a heart to heart and explain why he’s concerned, he’s sure she’ll understand. That way they can collaborate, come up with a solution for how Mal can make friends without doing anything that could inadvertently create a negative aftermath. 

“...Then where will I be?” 

Audrey’s voice breaks Ben’s momentary, spiraling train of thought. He looks at her as she pouts, fussing with her own hair. She pulls out a compact mirror and begins inspecting her face. The realization that Audrey is only worried about herself yet again sends a flash of disappointment through him. Maybe if things were different he could talk to her about it, maybe he could get her to understand. But he still has a tourney game to get ready for, a meeting with his parents after that, and a new potential crisis to put out. 

“Listen, Audrey-”

Either she doesn’t hear him, or she doesn’t want to, and cuts him off again - something Ben starts to realize he’s growing very used to. She snaps her compact shut and looks at him vaguely, digging around her bag for her plumping lip gloss. She makes a mental note to get more, the extreme plumping kind if she wants to get ahead of all this magic beauty bullshit on the horizon.

“I will see you after my dress fitting for coronation, ‘kay?”

“O-Okay…” Ben replies, but Audrey is already bounding away.

“Bye bennyboo.” She calls out behind her, leaving Ben alone in the hall. He feels himself cringe a little at her repeated use of the nicknam, but reprimands himself. It’s well intentioned - well enough at least - so he shouldn’t be judgemental. 

Behind him in the empty hall, Mal stands, staring at the back of Ben’s head intently. She steadies herself with a breath. She’s been practicing on the birds outside her window - she even practiced on Carlos a few times - she’s been pouring over her mom’s spellbook nonstop since yesterday, she’s ready. She has to be. She takes a breath and walks forward, clearing her throat. 

“Hey bennyboo!” She says, sarcastic and saccharine. 

Ben turns around, startled by the sound of Mal’s voice, and bites back a sigh. He really wishes people would just call him Ben. Before he can greet her, Mal takes a few steps closer, locking eyes with him, and holds up a baggie of cookies that look very… homemade. 

“Do you want one?”

He looks at the cookies briefly, then smiles at Mal. It seems a little strange that she would take up something like baking when she refuses to even take an art class, but Ben is too distracted by the fact that she’s finally putting a good foot forward. She’s doing something kind, making a gesture, she’s trying.

“Oh,” he chuckles, smiling and trying to find a polite way to decline. He never eats right before a tourney match, especially dessert. 

“I uh,” he starts, fumbling for words that always come so easily. “I’ve got a big game - I don’t eat before a big game, but thank you so much!” He adds quickly, her eyes locked onto his. Have they always been that green? 

“T-thank you. Next time, next time definitely.” He concludes. He should go. He needs to go warm up or he’s going to be late. Why is he still standing there?

“No, yeah.” Mal says, pulling his thoughts back to her. If her eyes had always been so intense, such a vibrant, glowing green, Ben is sure he would have noticed before. “I completely understand.”

Mal smiles sadly. 

“Be wary of treats offered by villains…” She laughs sadly, eyes still locked on his, drawing him in. “I’m sure every kid in Auradon knows that.” 

Panic and guilt flash through him. 

“No, no, no-” He fumbles, trying to explain, but finding the words feels like trying to run through quicksand. He can feel his brain slowing down, struggling to think, growing more and more quiet. 

“No, that’s not it,” he sputters, desperately trying to correct her impression of him, that he doesn’t trust her, doesn’t like her. “I- I really do-” 

He gestures weakly toward the tourney field, eyes still locked on Mal’s, stuck in her entrancing gaze. Everything around him seems to glow with a tinge of that green, that intoxicating emerald color of her eyes. He tries to say something, but there are no words in his head to draw on. It’s like someone cut the power supply to his mind, leaving him reeling in the dark, stuck in place as Mal stares him down, inching closer to him. He can’t think, can’t blink, can’t move. All he can do is watch the shades of green emanating from Mal’s eyes, casting everything around him in emerald and lime and harlequin. He wishes he could say something, then slipping into the back of his mind like a snake, words begin to form. 

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself. 

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself.  

“No, I get it.” Mal says out loud, sounding just like the strange orders permeating Ben’s mind. “You’re cautious, that’s smart.” 

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself.

“Oh well,” Mal sighs, “more for me I guess…”

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself. 

She holds up her sugary concoction between them. 

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself. 

Ben steps forward.

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself. 

He reaches out his hand, compelled by her, then hesitates.

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself. 

“Eat the cookie, Ben.” Mal says, her melodic voice sounding just the same out loud as it does echoing around his head. 

Everything you say and do makes everyone believe you’re wildly in love with me. Even yourself. 

“Eat it!” She snaps. Ben reaches out automatically, taking a bite. The glow in Mal’s eyes softens, a glint of that green still reflected in Ben’s, and he blinks, trying to come out of this strange stupor. 

“See?” He replies hazily. “I totally trust you. Totally.” 

Mal smirks. She glances over at her friends, who Ben didn’t even notice. Mal looks back at Ben. 

“...How are they?” She asks tentatively. Her heart pounds uncontrollably in her chest. This is the moment of truth. She can feel Evie and Jay and Carlos all holding their breath, right along with her. 

“They’re good, they’re great.” Ben answers quickly. “They’re amazing! They’re, uh…”

A warm, fizzy feeling fills his mouth, trickling down his throat as he swallows. 

“I mean, they’re warm, and chewy, and-” he sputters mindlessly. That addictive, bubbling, fizzy feeling spreads from his throat to his chest, making him feel all hazy and disoriented. “And, you know, they…”

He trails off for a moment. That warm, itchy fizzing feeling begins bubbling in his stomach, spreading throughout the rest of his body. 

“Is that walnuts?” He blurts out, continuing to ramble mindlessly about the cookies. “I love walnuts.”

She knows that, comes Mal’s voice in his mind again, she must know that. That’s why she put them in there. God, she’s so beautiful, and considerate too. Always thinking about other people before herself…

“And, um, you know, the chocolate… the- the chocolate…” he sputters. “The chocolate chips are… uh…”

The earth seems to move around him, absolving him of all his duties, all his responsibilities and obligations besides pleasing her. 

“Sorry. They’re, uh… they’re warm, and soft, and sweet…” He rambles, describing the angel before him more than the cookies. His breathing gets shallow as he subconsciously steps closer, needing her like he needs air. He’s fixating on her again, aching for another hit of that intoxicating look she had trapped him in.

“Mal, have you always had those little golden flecks in your eyes?” He murmurs, voice more low and intimate as he gazes down at her. He’s looking at her differently than he had been - that much is obvious. He reaches up to take another bite of the cookie and she gasps, grabbing it from him.

“I think that’s enough for now…” She says. Ben chuckles, his gaze unwavering. She’s so considerate, always looking out for him in little ways that no one else does. His pupils dilate as he stares at her, overwhelmed by a sense of familiarity, comfort. A strange, aged brew of feelings rises up through him. It makes him think of something, remind him of someone, but he can’t put his finger on it… He’s so wrapped up in the sensation that he doesn’t even notice Jay standing behind him until he speaks, placing his hands firmly - and somewhat roughly - on Ben’s shoulders.

“How you feeling, bro?” Jay asks. There’s a knowing element, a note of some inside information shared between Jay and his friends within his words, but it goes right over Ben’s head. Everything in his mind is screaming Mal Mal Mal! You want to be around Mal as much as possible! She’s your whole world, and you’re totally obsessed with her! 

“I feel… I- I feel…” Ben murmurs, eyes still locked on Mal’s as he tries to find the words, struggling to put his finger on it. A dreamy smile crosses his face.

“I feel like singing your name-”

Mal’s eyes widen in fear and she moves forward, clamping her hand over Ben’s mouth before he can even think about actually doing it. He wasn’t going to, but he smiles into her palm as he realizes she thought he was serious. 

“Okay, well,” Mal says softly with a nervous chuckle. They’re attracting too much attention like this already, and she knows they have to move on if they want a chance at pulling this off. “Don’t do that.”

Ben takes in a deep breath, and the scent of worn, grungy leather and spray paint fumes invades his senses. There’s something else too… nail polish? It’s intoxicating coming from her skin, dizzying, and he wants more. He takes her hand in his, holding it tenderly and inspecting it closely for a moment, his eyes fixated on her bitten nails. They glint in the afternoon light, reflecting off the sparkly, cracked mixture of purple and green polish. Just like her eyes. He looks up at her so softly, and it makes her feel sick. 

“When did you do this?” He asks, glancing back at her nail polish, his thumbs tenderly grazing over her fingers and knuckles. 

“Um-” Mal starts. She’s uncomfortable. She’s not used to having this much attention unless she’s getting screamed at or is knee deep in a gang fight. She’s… unsure of what to do with Ben looking at her like that. He continues before she can try to figure out a response.

“It looks really good, it… it suits you…” He says wistfully, staring at her hand and wanting so badly to kiss it. He looks back up at Mal, and the intensity in his eyes, in his body language makes her waver for a moment. She looks over Ben’s shoulder at Jay, silently begging to bail her out. Jay bites back a laugh at the sight of big bad Mal squirming when someone shows interest in her, but he nods anyway. 

“We gotta go, we have a big tourney match to get ready for.” Jay says, playfully shaking Ben’s shoulders in hopes of snapping him out of his stupor. It doesn’t work, but he hears what Jay is saying anyway. “Right Carlos?”

Carlos blinks, walking closer to help drag Ben away. 

“Uh, right. See you later, Mal.” He says, shooting Mal a thumbs up, silently congratulating her on pulling off such a complicated, difficult spell. Ben feels his heart plummet as Jay pulls him away, Mal’s hand slipping out of his. He twists around in Jay’s grip, struggling to not let her out of his sight yet. You can’t leave her yet, you can’t! 

“You’ll- you’ll be at the tourney match, right Mal?” He asks, a distinct note of desperation reaching for her as he speaks. 

“Yup.” She answers with a performative smile, skin crawling at all the attention he’s throwing at her. “I’ll be the one in purple.”

She mutters the last part under her breath, muscle memory kicking in as she deflects her unexpected discomfort with verbal jabs. She doesn’t think anyone will hear her remark, much less acknowledge it if they do, but she flinches a little as Ben laughs loudly. “I’ll see you there.” He says, beaming at her. Mal can’t remember the last time she made someone laugh out of anything other than fear. 

“I’ll see you right after.” 

He repeats it desperately, like a prayer. Like he’s trying to convince himself that the pain of being apart from her will be over soon. A cold sweat breaks out on the back of Mal’s neck. She grabs Evie’s arm, desperate for some sense of comfort, and walks away as quick as she can without breaking out into a full blown sprint. 

Jay and Carlos attempt to drag Ben away, a little surprised at how hard he’s fighting to look back at Mal every few seconds. Eventually, after a lot of squirming at talking out loud about how great she is, how pretty her eyes are, isn’t she just the best, they manage to get Ben to the tourney field to get ready for the match. Ben stumbles through his usual routine when getting ready for a match, his head swimming the entire time. He’s completely preoccupied with thoughts of Mal. Soon it’s time to head out onto the field, and it couldn’t come sooner. 

Mal is out there, waiting for him, and he is not going to let her down. He calls out morale boosting chants with the rest of the team, psyching himself up to lead his team to victory, because Mal is going to be up in the stands watching him. He’s going to break records, play the best game of tourney in history for her. Everything he does is for her.

[danielmolloystits]

hello!! i am SheOfBadIdeas and this is my IWTV fic masterlist <3

i primarily write devil's minion (armand/daniel), though there are a couple of other pairings thrown in here for good measure. click through to see what i've been up to!

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

Series & Chaptered Fics

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

rewind & play it back - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~21.6k, Rating: E). Series, ongoing, 2/3 works. Post-Season 2. Devil's Minion Era happened.

Part One: reprise. - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~13.7k, Rating: E). Completed, 4/4 chapters. Armand POV. A take on the events leading to Daniel's turning, including a walk down memory lane. You might enjoy this fic if you like poetic prose mixed with depraved smart. Comes with art by @ladyofthecreeddraws <3 But when he met Daniel, he had already shattered into the pieces of himself that are loud, insincere, cruel. The pieces that are not worth loving, some part of his mind whispers, in a voice that could belong to Louis or to Lestat or to any number of others whom he has tried to fit inside of himself and keep, an endeavor which has only ever ended in the same blistering disappointment. And now—as he is sitting in the wreckage of another failed attempt at shaping himself into a home, covered in plaster dust from an outburst of rage only a fraction as bright as that which he deserved—now all there is left in front of him is Daniel.

Part Two: redux. - (Armand/Daniel, Daniel/Lestat, Louis/Lestat, WC: ~8k, Rating: E). Ongoing, 4/? chapters. Vampire Old Maniel. Daniel POV. The immediate aftermath of Daniel's turning and Armand's absconding. You might like enjoy fic if you like poetic prose mixed with humor and angst. Armand feeds him from the wrist and Daniel is unmade, pulled like the end of a slipknot until he once more is a thing unformed. A blank slate, tabula rasa, wiped clean. A sand castle at high tide. A snake eating its own tail. Everything eats itself in the end, comes back to where it started, and Daniel is no different. His blood is Armand’s blood is his blood, and when he gulps down mouthful after mouthful, Armand’s hand feverishly massaging his throat to aid the weak, dying muscles in forcing it down, it is himself he is drinking from.

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

as soft as leather, as plush as lace - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~6.5k, Rating: E). Completed, 2/2 fics. Devil's Minion Era (1970s-1980s).

Part One: thin like lace & twice as tight - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~3.6k, Rating: E). Completed, 1/1 chapters. Daniel POV. Pure smut. Daniel in lingerie and a heaping helping of blood play thrown in for good measure. Made in collaboration with the brilliant, brilliant art of @ladyofthecreeddraws He’s trying not to think about it. He doesn’t want to spoil the reveal prematurely, after all. But it’s hard not to, with the satiny spandex ribbon that’s currently nestled between his ass cheeks insistent on riding up to give him a constant wedgie. “Is there a reason you’re singing ‘Femme Fatale’ so loudly in your head right now?” Armand asks from across the dinner table, a bemused grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Is our conversation boring you that terribly?”

Part Two: soon, i'll be your dog - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~2.9k, Rating: E). Completed, 1/1 chapters. Armand POV. Smut. Lingerie and collaring and leashing. More art by @ladyofthecreeddraws, who continues to own my entire soul. Honestly I'm not sure what else you might want tbh. Armand looks down at him. At his flustered, pretty face, at his slightly parted lips. He wants to put the tip of his thumb in Daniel’s mouth, so he does, Daniel immediately opening up wider to allow the digit to slide over his tongue. So good, Armand thinks, his eyes darkening as he watches Daniel hollow his cheeks and suck. So perfect, and so very mine.

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

i'll keep your pillow warm - (Armand/Daniel, Armand/Louis, WC: ~17.2k, Rating: E). Ongoing, 4/? chapters. Dubai Era. Daniel POV. A canon rewrite, starting when Armand is pretending to be Rashid and continuing therefrom, wherein Armand and Daniel are committing boatloads of infidelity. You might enjoy this fic if you enjoy the idea of Old Maniel being free use and giving Armand a truly absurd number of blowjobs, and also all the drama of cheating. When Armand was performing earlier, starring in the most insufferable one man show the journalist has ever borne witness to, he had seemed akin to a stranger—utterly foreign, so incredibly different from the boy Daniel had begun to care for. But as he is right now, unraveling on Daniel’s tongue, the vampire is almost nostalgic to him. Like sinking into the warmth of his childhood blanket.

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

break up with your girlfriend, i'm bored - (Daniel/Lestat, Armand/Daniel, WC: ~3.2k, Rating: E). Completed, 2/2 chapters. Post-Season 2. Vampire Old Maniel. Daniel POV. Daniel fucks Lestat to make Armand jealous. It works. You might enjoy this fic if you like humor and smut and obvious ploys to piss of 500-year-old vampires (that work).

“No.” Lestat grabs one of Daniel’s hands in both of his own, making such intense eye contact with the journalist that it starts to grow uncomfortable. “You deserve better. You must understand this.”

“Okay,” Daniel agrees, shifting a little in his seat. Anything to move past this point in the interaction. “I deserve better.”

“Good,” Lestat says, nodding resolutely to himself. “This is why you should let me fuck you.”

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

One-Shots!

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

in the graveyard that is his body - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~1.6k, Rating: M). Completed, 1/1 chapters. Post-Season 2. Vampire Old Maniel. Armand POV. Armand dissociates. Daniel grounds him. You might enjoy this fic if you like poetic prose and hurt/comfort. Made in collaboration with @ladyofthecreeddraws, which is to say, there's truly incredible art attached to this fic.

“What do you need, baby?” Daniel asks, his voice delicate as a soap bubble. Armand can just barely feel the puff of air on his neck as he speaks. He can feel, too, where Daniel’s hand rubs at his arm lightly, where his caress brings goosebumps to the surface. The parts of him that Daniel touches light up like a switchboard, like isolated stars in a constellation that hasn’t been drawn yet. Each point of contact something sharp and alive in the graveyard that is his body.

“Touch me,” Armand begs, turning his face into Daniel’s chest. Listening to the soft thud of his heartbeat, the same heartbeat that flutters beneath Armand’s rib cage. Their heart, their heart, their heart. “Everywhere, please.” ☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧ looks just like an angel - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~5.6k, Rating: E). Devil's Minion Era (1970s). Priest!Armand. Smut. Dubious Consent. Daniel POV. Armand pretends to be the priest running Daniel's NA, and then they have sex about it. You might enjoy this fic if you like Armand's gaslighting mindfuckery and him abusing a position of power over Daniel. Also religious imagery.

“The next step is coming to believe in a power greater than yourself.” The priest’s hands are clasped together, his thumbs twiddling idly as he speaks, “One that is capable of delivering you from your illness.”

“So, what,” Daniel deadpans. “I’ve gotta convert to Catholicism?”

“If you’re so inclined,” Father Armand responds wryly, as if he’s privy to some great secret that eludes the poor, ailing addict. Daniel wonders in that moment how old the other man is. He can’t have too many years on Daniel, surely, but he seems so much older that it’s almost a little unnerving. “However, it could be anything, really; your love for your family, your will to live. It could even be me, if you wanted.”

☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧ to pull sound from a still heart - (Armand/Daniel, WC: 1.6k, Rating: M). Completed, 1/1 chapters. Post-Season 2. Established Relationship. Armand POV. He's having a bit of an identity crisis and Daniel praise kinks him through it. You might enjoy this if you like tooth-rottingly sweet fluff that is also smutty.

Armand’s voice cracks. “Then how can I know myself?” There’s another question lying underneath it, one he can’t bring himself to voice—how can I know if I am worth anything? Daniel seems to hear it anyway.

“Well,” he starts, before placing a soft peck on Armand’s clavicle. “I’d say I know you pretty well. And aside from the fact that you never help with laundry, I think the whole package is kind of great.” ☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧ glaciers melting in the dead of night - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~5.2k, Rating: E). Completed, 1/1 chapters. Post-Season 2, Episode 5. Dubai Era. Armand POV. This is really just a BDSM fic where Daniel gets to dom Armand in the Dubai penthouse. Bondage and orgasm denial. You might enjoy this if you think Daniel should get to top more.

“All this time, and you haven’t changed a bit.” The words fire from his mouth like gunshots into still air, his lips finally curling into the contemptuous sneer he’s been keeping at bay for the past several minutes. “Still nothing more than an eager black hole. An unremarkable, wanting mess of a man.”

What is it like, he wonders, to be so out of control of your own desire? To be such a slave to your own basest impulses? After five hundred years, he’s forgotten the feeling. Suddenly, he is covetous to remember. ☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧ before you shake my tomb - (Armand/Daniel, WC: ~1.7k, Rating: E). Completed, 1/1 chapters. Devil's Minion Era. Non-Con. Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Armand POV. Daniel has been getting increasingly careless in his pursuit of cheap thrills, and Armand steps in to try to curb his impulses for the better. Somnophilia ensues. For the love of god, read the tags on this one. You might enjoy this if you're into really fucked up power dynamics and Armand "knowing what's best" for Daniel.

Daniel has grown reckless.

He can sense the phantom press of Armand at the fringes of his consciousness, just barely there like the whistle of wind through rustling leaves. Holds snippets of the vampire in his fractured mind and longs to understand the full picture of him—his form, his contours, the shades and hues that fill the lines of him. He knows Armand is there, but he doesn’t know what he is. Doesn’t know if he tastes like redemption or reckoning, if he tastes like both wrapped together like the threads in a braid. ☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧ a study in collectivist post-dissolutive reconciliation tactics - (Armand/Daniel, Daniel/Lestat, Lestat/Louis, Lestat/Armand, Louis/Armand, Daniel/Louis, AKA the Diabolicule, WC: ~1.3k, Rating: M). Post-Season 2. Vampire Old Maniel. Polycule Fic. 3rd Person Omniscient POV. The Polycule Breakup Sex Fic. You might enjoy this if you like humor and crack.

It is harder than one might expect to divide the property of four vampires after a break-up. They’ve been at it for hours and are still only halfway through their wardrobe.

“Lestat, I’m assuming this ‘Baby Slut’ crop top belongs to you?” Louis asks with a raised eyebrow, holding the offending garment up for inspection.

“Mmm, non,” Lestat replies. “Though I would look fantastic in it, I’m sure.”

Daniel snorts. “Well, it isn’t mine.”

They all look to Armand.

“It was on sale,” he sniffs haughtily. “And the shopgirl said it made me look ‘cunty.’” ☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⛦˙♱⋆☠⋆♱˙⛧☠ ⋆♱˙⛧

and that's all for now!! mwah mwah mwah thank you for taking the time to peruse <3 drop me a comment if you end up reading any of them :)

[pixxelcatt]

All about Leo!

Donnie | Raph | Mikey

——————————————————————

he/him | aroace bi | audhd | 8/14/06 | leader

——————————————————————

Leo’s the leader! Obviously. He’s the oldest, (technically) he wears blue, so of course he’s gonna be the leader. It comes with the name Leonardo. That’s how it works, right?

Leo tries to act like he’s all big stuff, but he’s really the opposite, a fake ego if you will. He’s really pretty mellow and quiet. He wishes he wasn’t though, so to hide it he copies the personalities of characters or people who have the confidence he doesn’t actually have, basing almost his whole self on them. Some of note being Sonic, rottmnt Leo, and probably Deku or Tanjiro tbh, main character energy. This tendency will come back to bite him later, after meeting Leon, basically his hero, and realizing that what he knew about him from the tv show was only just a fraction of himself, and now he doesn’t know who he’s been basing himself on all these years. Some sort of identity crisis.

Some hobbies of his include writing, collecting things, and watching anime. Writing helps him get his emotions out, since he’s pretty bad at expressing them with vocal words, he can just never think of the right ones to say.

Leo has claustrophobia, he doesn’t really remember where it came from, if it even has a source, but it’s the reason you’ll NEVER see him go inside his shell, and why you’ll also never see him wearing a shirt. It’s not just to look cool, (though it does) he can’t stand those things.

[futureplayboibunnie]

Mistakes

Miguel O’Hara x spidey!fem! reader

Will Miguel let you in?

Miguel angst is MY thing fr, this is another self serve fic tbh. GOD i love this one, he’s so damaged and broken like fr we can fix him. I’ll probably do a part 2 bc writing this had be squealling

it’s been a hot minute. i’m on holiday for a month and i genuinely used my phone for this one. giggles

Miguel honestly felt like a ghost story as of late. He had been hiding out in his mancave a lot longer than what was deemed usual by the others and no one really had the incentive to find out what the hell he was doing and why the hell he wasn’t leaving.

More like no one wanted to have their spinal chord ripped out and dangling in front of them.

Miguel was as complicated as ever, his aggression seemed to be boundless and his drive a never ending abundance of determination. Though he was admirable as a leader, he was almost impossible to see through. It was his knack. His ge ne sais quois. He was a calloused man, haunted by demons he couldn’t escape- not because he wanted to, but because he would lose the last memory he had when he was genuinely happy. And that was with his daughter. Who he lost. Who he was responsible for losing. It had been almost a month since anyone had seen him. It was most definitely a period of self isolation for him, but it had been too long for the other spiders without a leader. They needed him, so did you.

It was bothering you now, what the hell was he up to? Did brooding really cost this much time? It seemed either ridiculous or…unsettling. You didn’t know which one you prefered. Day after day or constant wondering sent your mind spinning frok fraction to fraction: all you could do was wonder, be slightly irritated and…concerned about him all at once. Miguel was always on time, always prepared and valued hypervigilance and attentiveness…so why wasn’t he following his own moral code?

You told Gwen that you should check on him to make sure he was still fucking alive. She heavily disagreed with the idea but even Jess didn’t know what had gotten into him. Unlucky for them, they didn’t know the secret spot into his lair you find the first day of getting into the Society. The tour of HQ was quite enlightening, the amount of hidey holes were insane. Your heart was racing at the idea of visiting him unannounced, but you hated this and it was getting frustrating. Hell, you weren’t scared of him and you made it very known to him.

You decided to go late at night when no one else was at HQ. Jesus, if he was still here at 3 in the morning then he really was reeling… and no-one was there to pull him back from the unending void. Miguel’s hidey hole was on his ceiling so you quite literally had crawl through his vents which was very humbling and quite a blow to your blossoming ego. After that embarrassment, you were irked and already impatient. He better have a damn good reason for being like this.

Your crawled out of the vent at let your adhesive fingers crawl around the shadows of his cool, airy lair. Your eyes scanned around, it seemed void of any personality, no personal effects or anythint tying him back to his humanity. It wasn’t surprising but…saddening. You crawled further down the wall to get a closer look. It was a mess: broken tech, metal pieces, vials and serums stewn over the floor like it was just collected dust that just happened to land there. You tilted your head even more- there were weights and water bottles everywhere, he must have been extensively working out…or physically pushing himself as punishment. What really caught onto you though was the many monitors that were indented with a fist…his fist. Your mood soured at the latter. Turning your head to his platform, you finally found him, standing snd staring at his orange screens blankly, breathing heavily. His back tense and his gaze weary as he watched the last good memory he had with his daughter play out on his screen. In this light you could see the illumination on his cheeks. He’d been crying. The thought alone made you freeze. The portrait of the Miguel you knew was crumbling between your fingers, as you glanced at the screen you saw him happy, smiling. You weren’t sure if he’s done that ever since then.

You crawled out of the shadows, inching further and further down the wall next to the platform, wanting to make your presence known. When was the last time anyone comforted this man? When was the last time he wasn’t filled with grief and anger?

“Miguel?” You say softly as not to startle him, but with his lack of Spider senses he definitely was startled. He jumped and grabbed a broken monitor and threw it at you, it didn’t take much to dodge him but a look of concern painted your face.

“H-How did you get in?” He bellowed but you just hopped off the wall and onto his platform, not giving him the time of day to adjust himself to the fright you have him.

He definitely was working out again, he was bigger since you last saw him…but face to face, he seemed so deliriously exhausted.

“That’s not important right now.” You responded nonchalantly but oddly seriously at the same time.

“Why are you here?” Miguel eyes were gleaming red, he had a particularly awful few days, weeks, he didn’t need to see the horror of another face seeing who he really was. His nostrils flared as you acted so careless, who the hell did you think you were?

Your back leaned against his desk as you paused for a moment, not sure if you wanted to be truthful or not. “I wanted to see you.” You say sincerely and Miguel shot you a perplexed look. No one saw him for the sole purpose of just seeing him, not that he can recall anyways. “You aren’t the easiest person to get a hold of right now.” You raised your eyebrow at him.

“I don’t want to be.” He grunted truthfully, averting his gaze away from you before turning into the snarky Spiderman he’s known to be. “But yeah, adorable. Really, really interesting, very cute. I was going to say fuck off and leave instead but yes, this is worth my time.” He bit back sarcastically. Anger was running through your veins at his response. God, he was such an ass sometime and he needed to know but instead you did the thing you were sure to regret later: being kind to him when he was like this. You took a deep breath to regain a cool and sentient composure.

“Look, I know you’re going through a lot right now so I’m going to disregard that.”

“I don’t want you here.” Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose and fell back into his chair, completely finished with all of this.

“Well tough shit.” You glared at him, sighing and then offering a sympathetic smile.

Miguel didn’t say anything, he knew a battle with you would pour salt into the wound and prove to be fruitless. So you both sat in silence and observing each other’s purpose. The tension between you both was palpable, so you decided to test the risky waters.

“How old was Gabriella?” You say gently, giving him a trusting look. If only you could get him to open up, the panic and anxiety would start to decrease if he just talked about all of this to someone who cared about him. As much as you hated to admit it, you did.

Miguel’s face froze as you asked him that, he wasn’t sure whether to lunge at you or not by asking him such a thing. He was too tired to argue or fight, he didn’t have it in him anymore. He was breaking and he didn’t want it to be infront of you.

“Nine.” He mumbled, staring away from you as if he was ashamed. “When I lost her…she was nine.” A sliver of sadness fell through you at the sentiment. It’s a new feeling for Miguel, someone actually having the guts to ask him these things. His suspicious look starts to turn into a frown, a mixture of anger and sadness. He didn’t know what to feel.

“I know I don’t matter at all in this situation, but it’s not your fault and you deserve forgiveness.” You say sincerely, surprising both him and yourself.

Miguel felt like he had just seen a ghost, his heart felt slow as the cave of despair started to ache again, he felt like he was being suffocated. Forgiveness? He didn’t deserve any forgiveness. Not after the damage he had done. Not after the pain he inflicted. It clawed at his throat until his breath was perpetually scarce.

“Forgiveness…” He scoffed, completely dismissing the idea. “I don’t- I can’t take your forgiveness. I’m not worthy of it…” He trailed off, the lump in his throat becoming bigger and bigger.

“You work yourself too hard.” You mutter, inching closer to him, staring down at him you raise your hand reaching out for him but he grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t pity me.” He grunted and gripped tighter but you snatched your hand away with a scowl.

“I’m not pitying you. You just…You look exhausted. When was the last time you went home? Jesus, when was the last time you slept?” You ask, genuinely curious. Miguel didn’t know how to answer the question without being slightly embarrassed.

“I have nothing there. I’m needed here.” His tone was clipped and all you could do was sigh.

“Miguel…please tell me, tell me what you’re thinking. Tell me so I can help you.” You say a little more firmly than intended but it definitely got the point across. “I want to help you if you let me.”

Miguel looks at you and sighs, seeming to deflate slightly. “My mind is filled with a never ending list of tasks to complete, a never ending list of dangers to face and battles to fight, a never ending list of problems to solve... I... I don't have much peace." He rubs at his temples. “But you've already seen that, I guess.... I'm not sure how you can help me with any of this." He sighed and winced slightly when he thought of Gabriella. “All I ever wanted was a family, to be happy. Meet a nice girl, have a few kids and settle down…but I love being Spiderman and I tampered with something I had no reason to be messing with. I can’t be both. I can’t have both. Shit as for love, I don’t think I can ever get close to another woman again. I can’t lose anyone else. The last thing I need right now is a lecture about love.”

You give him a small wry smile, your hands reach forward and tuck a small tuft of hair behind his ear. Miguel froze at the small gesture of kindess and tenderness, he hadn’t felt that in so long, he hated he way he was reacting to it. You didn’t know what else to do or say, you just knew what you wanted right now. You leaned down and engulfed him in a hug, your face resting on his shoulder and your arms slung around his neck. His eyes shot wide open at the sudden gesture. He was close enough to inhale your hair and feel your skin, he hugged you back and breathed in and out, finding a semblance of peace, a moment where his mind wasn’t filled with static noise and self loathing. Your scent was…sweet and completely intoxicating if he was being honest. ‘’Thank you…” He muttered into your shoulder.

You let go and stand up straight again, offering a hand so he can stand too. You were suprised that be took it and you were more surprised to feel that his hands were…soft. “Let me take you home. I’ll make you some tea, get you to relax, yeah?” You offer gently with a little smile, hoping he would let you do this for him.

Miguel's eyes widened at your suggestion and he stared at you with hope for a moment. “Why? Why are you doing all this?” he asked. He rarely spent time with anyone outside of work. Why would you even do any of this for him?

“Because you’ve done so much for everyone else and no one has ever taken care of you. God forbid someone wants to help you and all of a sudden theres this hidden agenda.”

The realisation dawned on him, when has he let anyone get close to him? Never. Now a pretty girl wanted to take care of him, listen to his problems and make him feel deserving of the forgiveness he dreamed of. Miguel wasn’t sure if it was a delusion or crazy dream or not but he was relieved to take in your sweet scent. Maybe you had an ulterior motive, the thought made him frown. He hated feeling vulnerable and showing any kind of vulnerability was out of the question.

“I’m not leaving you tonight. Okay?” You confirm sweetly, knocking all of the air out of his lungs. He felt a strange sense of security, he felt…safe at the idea. “Come on.” You fiddled with your multiverse watch and opened a portal to his apartment, you grabbed onto his bicep and pulled him in, landing in the living room.

Jesus, it looked like it hasn’t even been lived in. Everything was clean, too clean. “Nice place.” You half joked and Miguel just shot you a smile that he was trying to conceal, it didn’t really work. Miguel felt his neck heat up, when people got to know him he was actually really shy. He sat himself on the edge of the couch, planting his elbows on his knees and raking his hands through his hair. His kitchen was walk in, expensive. As you were brewing his tea, you caught glimpses of his back, he really had been working out. You stop your mindless gawk and find his mugs and place a tea bag in two of them, you also search for his whiskey. As you poured the hot water, you splashed a little bit of whiskey. God knows he deserved it.

You walked around to couch and Miguel’s head shot up as you stood infront of him, offering him the mug. As you stood, he took an opportunity to really look at you. To survey and study you. You were…attractive, that he had no problem admitting but this…This was a new side of you he had never seen. You were showing him kindness when he didn’t even deserve it. Miguel winced slightly at the idea of letting another woman into his life, the last time that happened he lost everything, he was still weary of your intentions.

He grabbed the mug and you sat next to him, curling your feet up and facing him, gawking at him more like as you sipped your tea. This scene felt…very domestic. “Thank you…” He said, not showing any emotion, being stoic as expected.

“God stop thanking me. It’s the least I could do.” You said with a shy smile.

“It’s just…different. No one has really- Well, I haven’t been looking after myself.” He muttered

“When was the last time anyone looked out for you?” You ask, genuinely curious. He had the whole world at his feet, yet it was like he was lonely.

“Years ago, my brother Gabriel…I don’t really see him much…” It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, but he missed his brother, he hadn’t seen him in a while. While you were in the kitchen, you saw a frame of him and his brother when they were about teenagers, playing. It warmed your heart slightly to see that he did actually care.

“You can’t let the mistakes in your past define you. It’s not who you are. Bad people don’t worry about the pain they caused. You are good.” Miguel took a moment to ponder your words, averting his gaze and then turning his head to face you.

“No you’re good.” He said gently. “It’s like being good is all you know…I’ve lost myself beneath violence and blood and chaos-“ Miguel sighed as he put the mug down on the coffee table, losing his cool for a second.

“Hey,” You grabbed onto his bicep and he shot you a startled yet curious look. “Do you trust me?”

Miguel paused, he didn’t trust people easily but after you so patiently listened to him and did all of this for him, he couldn’t say no to you. “Yeah…”

“Turn around.” Miguel did as he was told, a little confused at first, but his back was facing you. You brought your hands to his shoulders and kneaded his tense muscles. God, he was so rigid. It’s like he had never relaxed in his life. “These broad shoulders must be so exhausted.”

“Yeah…” Miguel closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of your fingers gently caressing him. Jesus, his body was coming undone with just a few touches. Your fingers pressed and massaged his sore muscles, travelling further and further down his back.

“Is this okay?” You whisper.

Miguel let out a deep sigh, his muscles loosening under your touch. “Yes...keep going please.” Miguel's voice was still quiet but clear, and he even let out a soft groan of relief.

You travel lower, caressing and massaging the pressure points of all his soreness. “God, there’s so many knots in your back…when was the last time anyone did this for you?” You question eagerly.

Miguel closed his eyes. “...never,” he replied, his voice slightly breathy. “No one has ever..." Miguel paused. “These days no one has ever cared enough or been allowed to be so...intimate with me.” He was caught off guard by what he said. He just screwed his eyes shut and let out a deep sigh. Your presence and your soft caresses calmed his mind to his very core and relaxed his body. You noticed that Miguel, who usually always carried himself with professionalism and control...was now like a deer in headlights, unable to comprehend your touch.

You stop your actions for a moment to contemplate what he said, he’s so touch starved, he hasn’t felt the warmth of anyone else in so long. It surprised you to an immeasurable degree, women must throw themselves at him. Instead you just wrapped your arms around him from behind, nuzzling your face into his neck to take in his scent once more. Miguel was stunned into silence, you were so surprising, so understanding of how he gets, how he lets himself go. He wasn’t sure whether to cry or not, you slung your arms against his neck and all he could do is grab your hand and kiss your palm. He didn’t know how to thank you. He swore he would never get close to another woman ever again but here he was, broken down and completely at the mercy of you. He could kiss you…but then he would shatter the promise he made to himself. He would be vulnerable all over again, he’d mess it up again. What kind of idiot would he be if he didn’t learn from his past mistakes? His worst mistake? But your scent, your presence, you were just so damn inviting. God, he was a man after all… but would making you his ruin you?

[changbinsboobs]

pls do chan tea session how he views his teammates? thanks very much!

Omg y'all THIS has been the reading we've all been waiting for😭🙌🏻🙌🏻😂 i swear i couldn't stop gasping and tacking a moment after each card to gather myself cuz WTF IS ALL THIS😂😳🫣 yk i did a tea/vent reading with changbin a few weeks ago and i thought its gonna be a banger but we couldn't get one "bad word" out of his mouth - he wasn't serving AT ALL😤 and i got a bit discouraged to continue the series but im so happy i did and did it with CHAN cuz my guys's spilling so much😂 tbh idk what i think of it all and if i agree, in fact i was quite shocked at a few cuz i really did bot expect such answers and i pulled several cards as confirmation and it all pointed painfully obvious to what the first card was already showing. So im just gonna start and ya'll are gonna see foe yourselfs😂

Oh also my tea series was initially not really meant to be focused on the group but more in general but at least with the last reading with changbin i found it difficult to take such a vast field of topics and distill it so if you have suggestions on what else they could have things to vent about or tea to spill send ask. Please be specific tho about something specific that interests you / preferably with a specific member:) ok moving on

Ok not really i forgot to mention that i asked about his opinion on the members WITHOUT FILTER and leaning more on the tea side. So, very important - this is not Chan's absolute opinion on the members, but a small, "scandalous" fraction if the opinion he has build on them over the years. It doesn't mean that this is all he thinks of them - remember humans are complex beings and can have conflicting thoughts and feelings:)

Tea Series: Chan's opinion on the members

Lee Know

I was SHOCKED but he kinda thinks of him as a bit of a dumbo. Not in the sense that he really is stupid but to Chan it looks like he's just a bit out of it and there's a vibe of a whole geoup laughing about a joke that lee know doesn't get, and not necessarily cuz he's stupid, its just he doesn't care to get it😂😭 this baffles him and im actually seeing a similar energy with him regarding lee know as i did with changbin in the previous reading where Chan just feels a bit weirded out by lee know at times and just sometimes gets annoyed cuz he just doesn't understand him. Yk how people are disgusted/scared by spider no reason? This is something similar, it just icks him how he cant understand lee know. He accepts it tho, more than changbin for sure. And im feeling that its actually even charming to him sometimes. Im hearing "a genius dumbo". So yeah, they're very different apparently, and to chan lee know just seems way waaayyy out of the circle, way above it all, way to out of it and he doesn't even want to get in and that BAFFLES him so much!

Changbin

This one's not hot at all, im seeing this pile along with felix's being the most melow ones. So I see that chan really sees changbin as his equal, possibly the only guy in the group he sees as one. Not in the way that others are below him but rather he's to the same level of matureness, toughness, headspace etc according to him (not that i agree😂). He views him as a bro and really enjoys spending time with him and "talking like men" or whatever its called😂 im actually seeing them going out for drinks or having late night talks with some strong alcohol (although im not really seeing chan drinking very hard i think the alcohol's more for changbin to loosen his tongue and for both of them to feel like adult men😂🙌🏻) Also another thing thats coming up which made me laugh is that chan thinks changbins bad at love and always has bad luck in it (and is kinda a simp) and he(cb) should learn a thing or two from him(chan). This gives me such huge sleepover vibes i live it so much - all of chans readings have that feeling to it and im always giggling when reading his energy😂💗 So yeah im also seeing them having lots of chats about women too🌝 and...sex👀👀👀 but for that i think it needs to be a bit deeper in the night and the bottle should be close to empty for that conversation to open. But it does, pretty often (not often like every other day but often only within their "meetings" so if they have a hangout every other months, and have had 6 this year, in 4 out of 6 this conversation happens - thats what i mean by often).

Hyunjin

Fo hyunjin he thinks he's very impulsive and very pushy but on the inside(?). He also thinks he's very appreciation hungry and attention greedy. Not attention whore-y tho (contrary to han), but rather ifjgkkf like someone who lives for the applause. Someone who's a performer. Not only on stage but also in private. I think he thinks that hyunjin's actually a bit insecure (not the kind of looks-insecurity, but the primal one like having security in your own being and the person who you are, having trust that you got ur own back) and that he's compensating that insecurity with others validation and admiration. And if he doesn't get that or feels like he doesn't he gets spiky/prickly. And thats where his impulsivity comes up and where this pushy energy happens. He may behave normal on the outside but on the inside he's going crazy and thinking of all the ways he can fix that and if you spend time with him long enough you begin to see that eagerness and spikiness - according to chan.

Han

According to chan he's pretty isolated and a tad bit odd. Probably thats why he gets along with lee know the best. He's also a bit infantile in chans eyes, like an annoying 12 year old fortnite little cousing that spits when he speaks and knows now personal space. Not saying hans like that - just creating a vibe to describe how he feels to chan sometimes😂 idk if nuisance is the right word but im getting the feeling that when 3racha's doing their thing, hans kind of the odd one out and he can see that han wants to belong and tries to but chan feels like he's that little cousin that wants to hang out with the cool old bros and, yeah sometimes feels liek a bit of a nuisance i would say. Cuz chan does include him, when he maybe would not. I could see that being a theme during their time in the 4/4 dorms. And here's the part i mentioned above - i think chan might view han sometimes like an attention-wh*re, making a clown of himself, and embarrassing himself quite offten to appeal to them or maybe others he fancies and wants to impress. Another thing is, that as i said he might be a bit odd and at times overexcert his boundaries? Or have weird boundaries? Like he hates when people touch his blanket or he only has to wear orange socks and if someone put the laundry and forgot one of his sock and now only one's clean he gets really pissed over nothing - stuff of that sort.

Felix

I would say thats the only pile where he had nothing "bad" to say about him and i pulled 4 cards for him cuz there had to be something - but there wasn't so i guess chan really really likes Felix and holds him in very high regards☺️ he thinks that he is muchs tronger than he looks and can defend himself and his loved ones very well. In fact i believe when chan saw this side of him he was really shocked because felix seems really sweet but when it comes to protecting what he loves he gets very fierce and that was very shocking to witness. Theres just admiration, admiration and more admiration in this reading he thinks felix has that royalty vibe to himself and really just has it all. Im getting a slight whiff of jealousy, but a friendly type of jealousy. Like he just thinks he's so amazing and sometime she wishes he were like that. He wishes he were as cool as him, as lighthearted as him, as bright and positive as him, he were as liked by him and i also feel like chan feels that stuff may often be just very effortless for felix and even if he's bad at something its still with grace. Theres this aura to felix that he can never do anything wrong and he just sometimes feels that felix has it too easy and must be really lucky or like gods favourite and thinks he must have really good karma for that.

Seungmin

He thinks seungmins too sharp and that his words hurt. Im also seeing lots of bickering...no actually fights. So either chan often gets the urge to just throw it all and start a fight with him or drop the manners and just tell him off - or they actually do that often. I do get the feeling that this is exaggerated in his head and that maybe to seungmin their fights aren't nearly as bad but once again i feel like chan might be holding back a lot and seungmin might'be much sharper and meaner for others than he thinks he is.

I.N

Finally the last one😮‍💨 he thinks he's a mamas boy and sees him still as a kid. That one's pretty obvious but to be honest i expected something else cuz im getting a much maturer energy from him, the other guys have said that too but still, here im getting that he's just a kid and doesnt know "of the real world", relies too much on mom and dad etc. Tbh i don't think thats the case😂 but rather that chans having a bit of a parent syndrom where he actaully feels like i.ns big bro or some sort of a parent figure or whatever and he literary watched him grow from a child to a man so i think that image of him from a few years back has stayed with chan and maybe its difficult for him to let go of that impression if i.n being still just a little kid being full of wonder, innocent and still dependant.

[i4miguel]

ʀ ᴜ ᴍɪɴᴇ?

robby x fem reader (minors dni)

!! warnings: pure smut tbh

You didn’t even know why you actually accepted this ‘date.’

Right now, in front of your bathroom mirror, you literally want to die.

You agreed to the date to do what? Prove him wrong? Show him you’re unaffected by his charm?

“Pride can get you killed” And yes, they were so right for this.

You pace back and forth, scowling at your reflection. You don’t want to give Robby the satisfaction of thinking he got under your skin. But here you are, taking extra time to look perfect, as if you’re about to meet someone who actually matters. You feel stupid for caring this much.

With a groan, you finally decide on an outfit. Casual enough to say “this means nothing.” but still flattering enough to make him choke on that smug smirk of his. You’re definitely not doing this for him.

As you stand in front of his door, you can’t shake the nerves. It’s just the usual banter, you tell yourself. It’s not a real date. Besides, the setting doesn’t matter, he’s still the same infuriating guy you can’t stand.

The door swings open, and there he is, leaning casually against the doorframe like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life. He’s in a simple black tee and jeans, looking annoyingly relaxed and somehow attractive.

“Right on time” he says with a smirk, stepping aside to let you in.

You roll your eyes, determined to stay in control. “I’m always on time. You should try it sometime.”

He chuckles, leading you into the living room. It’s a sleek, modern space. A bottle of red wine is already open on the table, two glasses waiting. You glance around, trying to keep your mind off the fact that this feels oddly intimate.

“Wine okay with you?” he asks, pouring the glasses.

“Depends. Are you planning on getting me drunk to make this more bearable?” you shoot back, taking the glass he hands you.

Robby raises an eyebrow, amusement in his eyes. "Of course not.” he says, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. "Though, if I did, at least then you might admit you actually enjoy my company."

You scoff, taking a sip of the wine. It's surprisingly good. "Never."

“You never give up, hm?” He smiles at you and you feel your cheeks literally burn. And despite your best efforts, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“There it is.” Robby says, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“There what is?” you ask, taking another sip to hide the warmth creeping up your cheeks.

“That smile. You spend so much time pretending to hate everything, I was starting to think you forgot how to have fun.”

“I know how to have fun,” you retort, your tone defensive. “Just not with you.”

Robby chuckles, settling into the couch beside you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body, but not so close enough.

He swirls his glass of wine. “How long are you going to keep pretending that you hate me?”

You meet his gaze, refusing to back down. “I’m not pretending anything.”

“Prove it.” he challenges, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone.

Your heart skips a beat, but you refuse to show any sign of weakness. “I don’t need to prove it to you” you say, your voice steady despite the rapid pounding of your heart.

Robby’s smirk returns, and he leans in slightly, just enough that you can feel his breath on your lips. “Scared you might like it?” he taunts, his words laced with that same infuriating confidence.

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, but for some reason, you can’t back down.

“Please,” you scoff, though your voice wavers just slightly. “There’s nothing you could do to make me like you.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he murmurs, his eyes dropping to your lips for just a fraction of a second before meeting your gaze again. “I think you might be surprised.”

You want to argue, to tell him he’s full of himself, but the words stick in your throat. Because, deep down, you know there’s a part of you that’s drawn to him, no matter how much you try to deny it.

He leans back slightly, giving you just enough space to breathe, but the intensity in his gaze doesn’t waver. “Why did you agree to this date?” he asks, his tone more serious now.

“I didn’t know it was a date,” you reply, lifting your chin defiantly, trying to regain the upper hand.

Robby chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Come on, you’re smarter than that. You knew exactly what this was.”

You meet his gaze, trying to keep your voice steady. “Maybe I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh, yeah? And what did you hear?” he asks, leaning in again, his eyes locking onto yours.

“That you’re an overconfident player.” you quip, a smirk tugging at your lips as you throw the dig his way.

Robby laughs, clearly amused rather than offended. “Fair enough.” He gives you a slow, suggestive smile, and you roll your eyes, even as your heart skips a beat.

“You’re so full of yourself” you mutter, taking another sip of wine to distract yourself from how close he’s sitting, how warm his presence is next to you.

“Maybe,” he admits with a shrug, “but I think you like it.”

“Then think again” you shoot back, but the words come out weaker than you intended.

Robby shifts even closer, his knee brushing against yours, and you can feel the heat radiating off his skin. “I know you’re trying hard not to, but you can’t help it. I’m in your head, aren’t I?”

The tension between you is electric, the air so thick with it that it's almost hard to breathe. You try to find the words to throw back at him, but they catch in your throat as Robby moves even closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"Just as i thought" he murmurs, his voice so low it sends shivers down your spine.

Your heart pounds in your chest, every instinct telling you to push him away, to put him in his place. But you can't. Instead, your body betrays you, leaning in just slightly, drawn to him in a way you can’t quite control.

Robby notices, of course. He always does. His eyes darken, a slow smile spreading across his lips as he closes the gap between you. “See? I knew you wanted this.”

“Shut up.” you whisper, but the words lack conviction.

"Make me” he challenges, his voice a rough growl as he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that steals the breath from your lungs.

His touch is fire, his hands roaming over your body with a hunger that mirrors your own, and you arch into him, unable to hold back the soft moan that escapes your lips as his mouth trails down your neck. It’s overwhelming, the intensity of it all, but you don’t want it to stop. You want more, more of him, more of this.

Robby’s lips find yours again, and this time the kiss is slower, more deliberate, as if he’s savoring the taste of you, the feel of your body beneath his.

“Tell me you don’t want this and I'll stop” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and full of need.

“Don’t stop” you whisper back, the admission slipping out before you can stop it.

Robby doesn’t hesitate. He kisses you deeply, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls you into his lap, your legs straddling him as he deepens the kiss, his hands roaming over your back, your sides, as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of you. The feeling of his body against yours is overwhelming, the warmth of his skin searing through your clothes, and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips as his hands find their way under your shirt, fingers brushing against your bare skin.

“You’re so fucking stubborn” he mutters against your lips, his voice rough with desire.

“And you’re fucking annoying” you shoot back, but the bite in your words is softened by the way you’re clinging to him, your body betraying the emotions you’ve tried so hard to keep in check.

His response is a low, satisfied growl as he flips you over onto the couch, his body hovering over yours. The weight of him pressing you into the cushions is intoxicating, and for a moment, all you can do is stare up at him, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to catch your breath.

"Say you hate me again," Robby dares, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers. "I want to hear it."

You know he’s playing with you, pushing you to admit the truth you’ve been denying for so long. But instead of pushing him away, you pull him closer, your hands gripping his shirt as you bring his lips back to yours in a hungry kiss.

"Fuck you" you murmur against his lips, but there's no venom in your words. It's almost affectionate, a twisted way of admitting that you've lost this battle, at least for now.

Robby grins against your mouth, his hands sliding under your shirt, fingers tracing over your skin. "I was hoping you'd say that.” he whispers, his voice thick with desire.

His hands slipping under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head. He leans back just enough to take you in, his eyes dark and hungry as they roam over your body. “You don’t hate me. You never did.”

“Shut up” you repeat, but the words are weaker now, barely a whisper as he kisses a trail down your neck, his hands making quick work of the rest of your clothes. His teeth grazing your skin as he makes his way lower, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips when he finally reaches your chest. His hands are everywhere, caressing, teasing, driving you wild with need.

“You’re going to beg,” Robby whispers against your skin, his voice a low growl. “And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

You bite back a retort, determined to stay in control, but it’s getting harder with every touch, every kiss. When his mouth finally closes over your breast, his tongue flicking over your nipple, you arch into him, your hands tangling in his hair as you try to pull him closer.

He’s relentless, his hands and mouth driving you to the edge, but you’re not ready to give in. Not yet. You pull him up, capturing his lips in another searing kiss, your hands fumbling with his belt as you try to get it undone.

Robby grins against your lips, helping you get rid of his jeans, and when he’s finally free, you can feel just how hard he is, how much he wants you. It sends a thrill through you, knowing that you’re affecting him just as much as he’s affecting you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down against you, and he groans, his hips grinding against yours. The friction is almost too much, and you’re both breathing hard, your bodies pressed together.

But Robby doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath. He moves down again, this time sliding his hand between your thighs, finding the wetness there.

“Already so wet for me” he murmurs, his fingers sliding against your slick folds, teasing you, driving you crazy with need.

“Robby…” you moan, trying to keep control, but it’s slipping fast.

He chuckles darkly, his fingers dipping inside you, curling just right, and you can’t stop the way your hips move, seeking more of his touch.

“Say it,” he demands, his voice low and commanding. “Say you want me.”

“In your dreams” you pant, even as your body betrays you, moving against his hand, desperate for more.

“Every fucking night” Robby growls, his thumb finding your clit, pressing down just right, and you gasp, your back arching as pleasure courses through you.

He doesn’t give you a chance to recover, his mouth replacing his hand as he moves lower, his tongue sliding against your sensitive flesh, tasting you, driving you wild with every stroke.

“Robby, please” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Robby looks up at you, his eyes dark and full of desire. “There it is” he says, his voice rough with satisfaction. “I knew you’d beg.”

But he doesn’t stop. He continues his relentless assault on your senses, his tongue flicking over your clit, his fingers sliding inside you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge until you’re right there.

“Come for me” he murmurs against your skin, and that’s all it takes. You cry out, your body convulsing as the pleasure crashes over you, leaving you trembling beneath him.

Robby’s lips curl into a wicked smile as he hovers above you, his body pressing against yours, the heat between you almost unbearable. He slides into you with a slow thrust, making you feel every inch of him as he sinks deeper. The sensation sends a shiver through you, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips.

“Fuck,” Robby groans, his voice low and rough, “Feel so good. So fucking tight.”

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the sounds threatening to spill out, but it’s useless. He knows exactly what he’s doing, each thrust driving you wild, his words only adding fuel to the fire.

“You’re so wet for me” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. “You like this, don’t you? Being fucked by the guy you ‘hate’ so much?”

You dig your nails into his shoulders, clinging to him as he picks up the pace. “Shut up.” you gasp, but the way your body responds to him betrays your words. Every roll of his hips, every deep stroke has you melting beneath him.

“Oh, I don’t think you really want that” Robby taunts, his voice dripping with confidence. He pulls back slightly, just enough to leave you wanting, teasing you.

“Tell me how much you want it. How much you want me.”

“Robby…” you moan, the sound more of a plea than you intended.

His eyes darken with desire, and he pushes back in, harder this time, his pace relentless as he drives into you. “Say it,” he demands, his voice rough with need. “Tell me you need me.”

You’re on the edge, teetering between holding on to your pride and giving in to the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you. His hand slides down your body, fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in tight, skilled circles that have you seeing stars.

“Fuck, Robby,” you cry out, your body arching into him, your resistance crumbling. “I need you. I need you so fucking bad.”

“I knew this from the beginning” he growls, his lips crashing down on yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. He pounds into you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, the combination of his cock inside you and his fingers working your clit driving you insane.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your body trembling beneath him as the tension coils tighter and tighter, ready to snap. Robby’s name falls from your lips,you can’t think about anything else.

“Come for me,” Robby orders, his voice a low, commanding growl. “I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

It’s too much. You cry out his name as you come, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm, every muscle tensing at the feeling.

Robby follows you over the edge, his hips snapping against yours in a final, powerful thrust as he spills inside you, his groan of release vibrating through your entire body. He collapses onto you, his weight a comforting pressure as you both struggle to catch your breath.

Robby’s hand strokes your hair gently, a completely different gesture from what happened just moments before.

“Still hate me?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, but there’s an edge of vulnerability there too.

You manage a breathless laugh, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. “You’re still annoying.” you reply, but there’s no real bite to your words.

Robby chuckles, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Good to know I haven’t lost my touch.”

You roll your eyes, though there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours. “Too late.”

[7ndipity]

Soulmate AU Scenarios

Jin x Reader, Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: only partially edited, not proofread

A/N: These have been sitting in my drafts for soo long, I don’t even remember when I wrote them tbh, but I figured since I didn’t have anything else ready for today, I’d share these with the class!

(Note, these are part of my Non-Linear series, which means they’re unfinished and ask motivated, see m.list for details)

Masterlist Non-Linear m.list

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

J: (Feeling a shock when you touch your SM)

Jin braced himself as he wove through the crowded streets, trying to avoid bumping into anyone as the static air began to make his hair bristle.

Everywhere he went, tiny zaps of electricity would hit him, sometimes from just the slightest of touches. It was like wearing a wool sweater all the time, and it made him tense and anxious every time he left the house.

He had gone to multiple doctors and specialists to try and figure out what was going on, but all they could ever come up with was he was just hypersensitive to his type of soulmark, feeling things too intensely.

He had hoped that they would be able to help him find some sort of treatment or solution to his problem, but all they had basically told him was to try wearing extra layers to lessen the sensation and to just ignore it as best he could.

He made his way slowly down the crowded sidewalk, trying to avoid getting too close to anyone, but it was almost impossible to avoid bumping into a few people. By the time he made it to crosswalk, he could hardly stand the static buzz around him anymore, more than ready to just go home

Suddenly, he heard a small curse as someone behind him stumbled, falling against him.

“Yi-aish!” Lightning shot up his arm, sending him flying back in shock and pain. Heart pounding from the sudden jolt of electricity, he looked up to see you sitting on the ground, gripping your shoulder in pain from the shock.

Realization hit him as he stared down at you, his fingers still tingling from the intensity of the shock.

“A-are you okay?” He asked, hesitating for a moment before offering you his hand.

Glancing between it and his face, you cautiously accepted it, your expression mirroring his curiosity and concern.

This time, when your palms touch, neither of you felt a painful jolt, but rather a soothing warmth that spread up your arm, like sunlight in your veins.

He smiled shyly at you. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

Jungkook:(sharing a very specific mark with your SM, SM’s tattoos/scars appear on your skin)

For the nth time today, you tugged down the sleeve of your sweater to cover your right hand, hiding the writing and designs that decorated your skin.

Having the same tattoos and scars as your soulmate would be enough to make anyone feel a bit self conscious at times on its own, no matter how beautiful you might think they are, but when your soulmate was someone famous, having such a visible marker of who you were bound to made you a target for all kinds of attention, some of which could even be potentially dangerous.

So many people tried to copy tattoos, trying to pass themselves off as the real deal, the only way to know for sure was to get some kind of test to know if it was regular ink or a ‘soul mark’ as they were sometimes called.

When the marks first started showing up, you were in complete denial, but the collection of designs had quickly grown beyond the point of denying, so you had switched to ignoring/hiding them. Lots of people chose to ignore their marks and make their own lives, and you knew enough about your soulmate to know there wasn’t a real possibility to be together.

Until your manager came by to tell you that you would be giving a tour of the venue/museum/historical site/smth where you worked to some very important visitors.

When you walked out and saw him standing there, it was like the world stopped. Everything seemed to slow for a fraction of a second, your breath hanging in the air as your eyes met.

But then, painfully, the world kept going. Everyone kept talking, your manager introduced you to everyone and left you to show him and his members around.

Pushing your initial shock aside, you focused on leading them around on the tour, answering any questions they had and chatting easily. You actually found yourself having a really nice time with them, almost forgetting your earlier nerves, until you noticed Jungkook's eyes on you, or more specifically, your hand.

As you had been pointing out something, he caught sight of the dark patterning over your knuckles, just barely peeking out of your oversized sleeves.

You tried to tuck your hand out of sight, but he was too quick, stepping forward and catching your arm, tugging your sleeve up to reveal the numerous, interweaving tattoos that covered your skin.

You locked your eyes on the floor, afraid of what he would say.

“Finally.” He breathed, making you look up in surprise.

He smiled down at you in disbelief. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn