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#but she only used shadow ball???
shiny-hoothoot · 6 months
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legit finally only completed the game so I could shiny hunt Bluescreen here
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I didn't get many pics of the Elite four because oops my SD card was full... but I went with an all-shiny team, and Teal the Quaxly played their part admirably!
Full team was Resh the Ceruledge, Mint the Decidueye, Egg the Altaria, Popsicle the Eiscue, Nori the Dragonite and ye, Teal the Quaxly.
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Re-injured Arven's dog and made a point of beating Skeledirge with Quaxly.
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Even if I was a lil cheap and used Substitute to make sure Teal would be fine.
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I screenshot this just because it made me laugh. Me too, Penny.
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teehee fisheye lens
fat penguin💙
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everyone: oh no! horde prime is going to kill us all! anyone have any ideas on how to defeat him?
[crickets]
shadow weaver: we could try the only possible logical option here—
everyone: boo shadow weaver! evil sorceress who's trying to kill us all >:( we'd rather die than take your advice
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ranmaruliker · 1 year
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actually so upset my mum wanted me to post this video to the pokemon go subreddit but they dont allow videos... anyway heres my mums 96% iv shadow mewtwo she caught using her masterball
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DASIY BELL I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
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Infernal Shadows
Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.
Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.
Song for this chapter: The world we knew by Frank Sinatra.
A/N: I wanna make this a three part short story, so if anyone is interested in being tagged in the second part just let me know!! I hope you enjoy!!
Word count: 2655
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part two
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Getting an invite to the annual crimson ball, hosted by yours truly, was nothing but an honor. Every overlord and every sinner in the pride ring waited anxiously for a letter. A black card with white letter in a cursive font stating ‘You have been personally invited by Hells biggest designer. The list of the gala was simple. The usual overlords, Zestial, Carmilla Carmine and her daughters, Zeezie, Rosie, Fredrick Von Eldritch and Bethesda von Eldritch. Alastor who had came back after seven years of hiding god knows where, and by special request, the three vee’s who had never attended the gala before. Then it becomes a bit more political.
Next on the list was the Goetia family, inviting the recently divorced prince with his daughter. Inviting Lucifer and Lilith, though they only ever came when everyone was gone. Then was their daughter Charlotte, who got a plus one as a special perk of being the princess of hell. Husk because he had been an old friend of yours before his status of Overlord was taken from him by none other than Alastor. He was also given a plus one, though he usually never brought anyone extra. Sir Pentious was a candidate, but ultimately scrapped from your list of invites as you felt he was too childish.
The gala was tonight and everything was going smoothly. Preparations were almost done, the foyer was spotless just the way you liked it, and everything seemed to be falling into place. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had spent months designing your perfect dress for tonight. Everyone attending the gala knew there was only ever one color off limits, because you always wore it best. The color black always suited you perfectly. No one could wear it better than you.
Back at the hotel, Charlie felt guilty for using her authority as princess to have people help her get ready for this gala. Based on what Alastor had told her, there would be a lot of political powers and fellow overlords there. She wanted to look her best if she was going to pitch the hotel to them. She needed more people on board with the project, maybe someone who didn’t think it was complete and utterly ridiculous joke like Alastor did.
“How do I look?” Charlie asked as the makeup and hair artists stepped away from her. Charlie stepped out, allowing Vaggie to get a better look at her in a tailored charcoal gray suit, a departure from her usual vibrant red attire. The jacket, adorned with subtle pinstripes, accentuated her frame, while the crisp, white silk shirt underneath added a touch of formality. Completing the ensemble, she wore a black tie with a discreet pattern that hinted at both elegance and authority. The ensemble was a strategic choice, projecting confidence and a readiness to engage with the political powers present at the gala for the sake of her hotel. Vaggie smiled and hugged Charlie deeply, their embrace making Charlie feel a little less nervous about the whole ordeal.
“Charlie you look amazing. What happened to the red?” Vaggie asked, before Charlie just chuckled.
“Well, I wanted a change for tonight. I’m always in red, and I feel like they’ll take me more serious if I’m not walking in there with my usual attire. Besides, you read the invitation, ‘formal attire, look your best’.” Charlie said. Vaggie nodded, and Charlie pulled back from the hug to admire Vaggie in her dress. She was wearing a sleek and modern grey dress that gracefully embraced the formal occasion. The dress, with its tailored fit and subtle shimmer, exuded class. The knee-length hemline added a contemporary touch, and Vaggie had decided to pair it with black heels to complete the ensemble. The choice of grey complemented Charlie’s charcoal gray suit, creating a coordinated yet distinct look that would surely make an impression at the gala. Charlie felt her cheeks heat up taking in her appearance, her long hair gently pinned back, the loose pieces of hair framing her face.
“Aww, Vaggie you look so pretty!!” Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie just smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks heated up at Charlies compliment.
“I agree, you look good vagina.” Angel said mockingly, causing Vaggie to glare at him. Charlie just gushed.
“Angel be nice. This is really important for the hotel.” Charlie explained. He just nodded, tilting his head back and downing a bottle of liquor. The staff however was interrupted by Angel making a purring sound at Husk, who was dressed in a nice white suave dinner jacket, with perfect cutouts for his wings, along with some sleek black trousers and some black dress shoes. The match, he had a black silk lapel.
“I can think of another place that suit would look.” Angel said, leaning onto Husk. He rolls his eyes, bottle in hand.
“Do I even wanna know?” He asks, and Angel just grins.
“On my bedroom floo-“ Angel doesn’t get to finish, being shrugged off by Husk who just walks away with a shake of his head.
“Oh my gosh! Husk you look amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. Husk just smiled softly before setting his drink on the bar counter.
“It appears everyone is ready.” Alastor said, the focus of the room shifting to him. Niffty was at his side studying his outfit from head to toe.
Alastor emerged in an ensemble that deviated from his usual eccentricity, opting for a more formal yet captivating look. A deep red velvet tailcoat adorned his frame, its luxurious texture catching the light. Dark-red lapels, meticulously piped with gold, added a touch of opulence. Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored crimson dress shirt, the power emitting off of him. Suddenly, the room grew just a tad bit darker, the shadows of the room stretching just a bit. Complementing the ensemble, he chose a pair of well-fitted black dress pants, allowing the bold red hue to take center stage on his appearance. His choice of footwear shifted to polished black oxford shoes, a departure from his usual pointed-toe boots. The finishing touches of the outfit included a matching red silk bowtie, neatly knotted at his throat, and black leather gloves that added a refined edge. Alastor’s presence was commanding, radiating an air of formality while retaining the distinctive charm that defined him. The room was captivated by the Radio Demon’s unexpected transformation into a vision of refined class and style.
“You took forever for that?” Niffty said, before Angel Dust tossed a pillow at her.
“Shut it you. We, we are keeping,” Angel said, hands waving around Alastor, “to whatever this is.”
“Style.” Alastor said confidently. Vaggie just face palmed while Charlie clapped her hands together excitedly.
“Okay, I think everyone’s ready. Should we head out?” Charlie asked. Vaggie nodded, before Alastor dug the invitation out of his coat pocket. Standing near a wall, he traced the symbol on the back of the card on the wall. “Uh, Al? What are you doing?” Charlie asked. He grinned, putting his hand flat on the wall. The symbol began to glow green, before it opened a portal. On the other side, was a large house. The grand Victorian mansion stood as a testament to opulence, its imposing facade adorned with intricate wrought-iron black railings and embellished balconies with hints of chains. Tall, arched windows with stained glass panels framed the exterior, allowing glimpses of the soft glow emanating from within. The entrance, marked by a sweeping staircase, welcomed guests with ornate, carved intricate detailed doors. Charlie, Vaggie and Husk followed Alastor through the portal, Charlie waving goodbye to Niffty, and Angel. Sir Pentious was most likely hiding out in a room somewhere with his egg boys.
As guests approached, they marveled at the meticulous details of the architecture – elaborate moldings, corbels, and friezes adorned every corner. Ivy-clad walls added a touch of nature’s grace, intertwining with wrought-iron lampposts that cast a warm ambiance over the meticulously landscaped gardens.Inside, the grand foyer unfolded, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, their light refracted by ornate mirrors that lined the walls. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, creating intimate spaces for guests to gather and converse.Every room whispered of a bygone era – intricately patterned wallpaper, gilded frames displaying classical art, and the faint fragrance of aged wood and lavender.
The air was infused with a sense of refinement, transporting guests to a time when elegance reigned supreme. The Victorian mansion, a splendid backdrop for the gala, promised an evening steeped in grandeur and charm. In the middle of the exterior grounds, a grand fountain of blood took center stage. Its sculpted marble figures spouted blood into the air, catching the moonlight in a dance of liquid elegance. The fountain, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowering shrubs, became a focal point for guests as they strolled through the outdoor spaces, the gentle sound of cascading blood adding a serene touch to the gala’s errie atmosphere.
The overlords arrival made the event much more real. Alastor hums to himself as he walks around the outside grounds. There are servants of all kinds walking around with glasses of champagne. Rosie is sitting on a bench, plucking thorns off a rose. Alastor smiles to himself, happy to see a familiar face he know he can confide in.
“Rosie dear! So nice to see you.” Alastor said with a smile. She smiles at him, teeth razor sharp.
“Do you think you’ll be getting a seat tonight?” She asks, snapping the rose off its stem and tossing it to the side.
“Well of course I will. It’d be a mistake if I wasn’t.” Alastor said with a smile, crossing his legs as he sat down next to her. Sinners from all over the pride ring were socializing outside of the large mansion. He knew you were inside finalizing preparations and possibly screaming your head off. Overall, the air was chilled with a comfortable atmosphere. Well, it had been comfortable, until a loud noisy vehicle stopped at the front gates. Everyone’s heads were turning, Rosie and Alastor looking at each other with strained smiles. Stepping out of the large limousine were the three vee’s, vulgar music blaring from the vehicles speakers as the three made their way through the now open gates. Reporters lined the edges of the gates, trying desperately to see the overlords inside and to try and sneak into the gala, which was starting soon.
“Mr.Vox! Mr.Vox!” News reporters shouted. Velvet was busy taking selfies of her and her outfit, her assistant following close behind her. Valentino was busy looking down at everyone, smoking his usual, while taking his long strides next to Vox, who was in the middle of the three.
On Vox’s right was Valentino, who donned a captivating look for the gala. His tailored white suit boasted a jacket that reached just above the knee, a subtle departure from his usual floor-length coat. The crimson silk lining peeked through, adding a luxurious touch to the outfit. The coat, reminiscent of his extravagant style, also had a vivid-red hue with his signature white fur trim at the wrists. The black and white striped fur trim along the center-front added a distinctive flair. A gold chain and love-heart-shaped broach fastenings adorned the coat, creating an opulent yet alluring look. Finally, he wore polished black heeled boots, maintaining the sleek and captivating allure that defined Valentino’s presence. The familiar color scheme remained intact, blending sophistication with a hint of provocative charm for the grand gala.
On Vox’s left was Velvet, who had spent months perfecting her outfit for the gala, in hopes she’d be invited of course. She had begged the boys to keep a good public appearance, in hopes they’d be recognized and invited to the crimson gala. Velvette, deciding to ditch her usual style, embraced a lavish and over-the-top look that represented her brand. Dressed in a knee-length dress, the garment had a striking blend of black and red hues. The dress, fitted at the waist, flowed into a voluminous skirt, creating a sense of extravagance. The bodice of the dress featured intricate lace detailing. A white collar adorned with a velvet bow added a playful yet mature flair. The sleeves, a fusion of burgundy and white patterns, contributed to the overall lavish aesthetic she had been going for. Her accessories took on a more refined form. Velvet gloves, adorned with delicate lace, graced her hands, and a pearl necklace adorned her neck, adding a classic touch, completed with maroon heels, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. Velvet’s transformation into this upscale attire reflected her desire to make a statement at the Crimson Gala.
In the middle, and the brains of the three vee’s, was none other than the head of Vox Tech, Vox himself. He wore a sleek and modern dark blue tuxedo, tailored with precision. Of course he could only have the best. The suit featured subtle futuristic patterns that enhanced his ‘perfect’ sense of style. To complement his high-tech vibe, Vox wore a light blue undershirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol. Vox's gala attire seamlessly blended power and control with his technological edge, creating a memorable look in shades of dark blue, which in his opinion, was the best color.
Upon seeing Alastor, Vox’s eye twitched noticeably. The gates shut behind the three vee’s, closing off the gala to the public. The overlords begin to get closer together unknowingly, Zestial finding a comfortable corner to watch things play out. Carmilla and Zeezie stand close together, whispering to one another as both Rosie and Alastor stand from the bench. Vox, Valentino and Velvet make their way to the Radio Demon and his colleagues.
“I see the grandpa’s were invited.” Velvet says with a scoff, scrolling through her phone.
“So disrespectful.” Carmilla says under her breath, looking away from the three vee’s.
“Hm, interesting, and I was beginning to think the only interesting thing tonight would be the dinner.” Bethesda said, her brother nodding.
“Well, it seems the children brought their play date to the public then.” Zeezie says. The other overlords laugh and Valentino sneers at her.
“Well an idiota like you would think so. Then again, don’t you all do the same with your diapers?” He asked, puffing the smoke into her face. She growls at him, fists clenching at her side, but Carmilla stops her.
“Didn’t they say this was an adult only gala?” Carmilla asked, Rosie chuckling at her words.
“Oh can it grandma.” Velvete said. But Vox remained silent, having his own personal staring match with Alastor, whose smile was stretched ear to ear, teeth on full display.
“I thought this gala was meant for real talent?” Vox asked, stepping closer to Alastor.
“Well it was until you showed up.” Alastor said with a smile. “There’s no originality in copying someone else.” He tuts. Vox narrows his eyes, face twisting with anger as he steps closer to Alastor again.
“You wanna tell me something, you old piece of-“ Vox is stopped, the lights to the exterior of the mansion dimming. The lights behind the large front doors opening slowly. Two tall black shadowy figures stepped from the door, smoke at their feet.
“Thank you all for your attendance. As we know, the annual Crimson Gala is held every year, and this year is no different. With the new extermination date, important decisions must be made. Tonight, ten individuals will be selected to sit at Madame’s table where she will discuss private plans on how to move forward.” The two said in unison. Everyone fell silent as more shadows appeared, each one sitting on the sides of the steps. Lights around the staircases began to light up, and people began making their way up the stairs.
“Well~ this should be fun.”
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yanderenightmare · 6 months
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Bakugou Katsuki x darling
TW: omegaverse, possessiveness, light bullying
part 2
gn reader
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Just thinking about how Alpha Beta Omega classes were always the worst. How the teacher would speak about an Alpha's strength and charisma, a Beta's sense of loyalty, and, of course, all of an Omega's weaknesses. 
It didn’t help that you were the only Omega in school. It also didn’t help that your class featured the only Alpha in school too.
All your life, it’s been a myriad of bullying. Katsuki would be at the helm, all the Betas behind him, eagerly following his every move – then you – trod over in the process. 
“You’re an Omega. You know that means you’re stupid, right?” He’d laugh – his canines gleaming in his grin.
“And weak – Katsuki, don’t forget weak!” His friends would add, hyping him up – making his smile ever sharper.
“Yeah! – stupid, weak, slow, and tiny.” You’d be pushed to the dirt, shadowed by his form, gleaming with pride, blocking out the sun. “Heh- sounds like something that belongs beneath a boot.”
All those classes, all those lessons. It’s not really the teacher’s fault. She’d tried using the most unbiased language she could. She’d only been stating facts – but still… couldn’t they have waited until all of you were a little older to tell everyone all the reasons you were different from them?
Granted. The lessons progressed into different territory when you got older. Talking about pheromones and instincts and mating and breeding – how Omega’s fall prey to something called ruts and heats – and how vulnerable they are when they’re caught in it. 
You were burning with embarrassment in your seat – feeling feverish from the toll of it – knowing how all this new information was going to be like fuel to fire – how Katsuki was going to use it for all it was worth.
You dared glance over at him – sitting by the window – he had an elbow propped on the desk and his head resting in the palm it supported. It didn’t seem like he was paying attention – his face turned away, looking outside instead. You couldn’t tell whether he was listening. You hoped he wasn’t.
But if you’d looked extra close, you’d see the beat red blush on his ear and cheeks.
To your pleasant surprise, Bakugou didn't approach you at all after that. You thought for sure he’d mock you, but it seemed that maybe… he’d grown out of it, perhaps? Either way, you were happy to think he’d forgotten all about you.
If only you knew he was on a mission to ignore you. You hadn’t noticed, too humiliated by the things being said about the nature of Omegas to have listened to what the teacher said about Alphas – and all their strange possessive habits – their need to mark their mate with bites and scent and-
He shuddered.
It’s a complete surprise. He can’t believe all these years he’s wanted you like that. But ever since you were kids, he’s been imprinting on you – chasing you, biting you, coveting you. It’s so embarrassing he can’t believe it. Is this really the reason you piss him off so much?
He knows it is – now; that one look at you has him blushing and his pants tight in the crotch. Fuck – do you even know? Have you known all along?
No… you’re acting like nothing’s amiss. Chatting up extras with an oblivious smile on your face – acting like you don’t belong to him.
How’s he going to keep you in check when you’re going to different schools by next term? How’s he gonna keep others away from you? Shit- what if there are other alphas at the school you’re going to? What if-
Fuck! His chest is pounding so hard and fast it hurts. He’s going to lose you…
You’re trembling – on the verge of tears – when he drags you off behind the school on graduation day.
His face was in his normal scowl.
He hasn’t bothered you all year – why, what-
“You’re gonna wear this at your new school, or you’re not gonna go.” He mutters – his fist shoving a ball of black fabric into your stomach – not hard, but enough to make you flinch. “Don’t wash it. Bring it back to me, and I’ll give you a new one.”
Your brows furrow.
“Every week. Or else I’ll hunt you down.”
He takes a step closer – you yelp as your back hits the wall, then whimper when his nose brushes along your hairline – his breaths hot.
“This’ll let every extra know you already belong to me.”
When he walks away, back in a slouch and hands shoved down his pant pockets – you unravel the mess of black in your hands – revealing a skull-print plastered on a large hoodie.
It smells like Kachan.
part 2
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tojirights · 3 months
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Pls, I need Alastor and brat taming. 😭
Fem!reader who acts soo cocky around everyone and tells Alastor she isn’t scared of him only for him to respond “you will be.” and he spanks and overstimulates her until she submits to him. The next day she’s walking round the hotel thoroughly avoiding him bc she’s so embarrassed.
a/n: PFFTTT the brat in me is going wild for this one bestie
buy me a coffee?
tags: 18+ smut, nsfw, spanking, slight choking, over stimulation, brat taming, shadow tentacle use, sliiight ass play/double penetration
"dude you're fuckin' scary..." angel physically shudders when alastor rises from the shadows and appears at your side. you raise an eyebrow before laughing at angel. "for real? look at those fluffy ears and little tail! this is scary?" you reach up and boop his ears, which twitch at your touch. he narrows his glare at you, daring you to test him further. "go on, darling. keep belittling me like that and you will know just how scary i am."
you roll your eyes, locking arms with him as he starts to lead you away from angel and the others. "you're all bark, no bite." you continue to prod, poking his cheek with your finger. "stop it." he warns, and his tone is serious, but you just stick your tongue out at him. "i'm not afraid of you, al." you huff with confidence. reaching the door to your room, he pauses. "oh?" his voice cracks through the radio static for a brief moment, and you feel goosebumps rise on your arms. "is that so?"
even though the look in his eyes has you reconsidering your brave behavior, you stand your ground. "yeah, what's so scary about the radio demon, hm? gonna haunt me while the top 20 pop songs play? or i guess you'd only haunt me over some jazz or someth-" your words catch in your throat when alastor's suddenly pushing you against the door to your bedroom, for anyone walking by to see. "you need to learn your place, little one."
with wide eyes, you look up at him. "what are you doing?" you whisper, glancing around the thankfully empty hallway. alastor easily towers over you, caging you against the door. "you should be afraid of me, sweetheart..." he says, low and breathy against your ear. "i think you just need to learn your lesson, that's all." you're about to protest, your hand flat against his chest but then you feel his lips on your skin and you all but melt. "i don't-" you gasp, alastor's teeth scraping against your neck.
"shhh." alastor's hands slide around your body, opening the door and walking you through it. "alastor..." you swallow, about to challenge him more but his hand wraps around your throat before you can. "not another peep until i say so." your mouth opens as alastor pushes you to the bed, but the tug of your pants and underwear stop you. "w-wait!" you scramble, but alastor just chuckles. "not so tough now, are you?"
he rolls your panties up into a ball and in the process, he can feel the wetness your panties have collected. "if you can't handle it, you're more than welcome to admit to me that you are scared, my darling." he teases, but you hold your ground with a glare. "now, as for your punishment... over my knee." he commands, sounding so natural in this demanding tone. you bite your lip, wiggling further onto the mattress and away from him. when he sighs, you can't help but giggle.
but then there's something wrapping around your ankle and sliding you over to alastor's lap. "h-hey wait, no fair!" you whine when you see his shadow tentacle secured around you. alastor chuckles, another tentacle coming up over your mouth. "tap my leg if it's too much." he whispers, and you know he's giving you an out even after your playful disrespect. but your pussy throbs as you're pulled over his leg, bare ass up and ready for him and you're fully invested in this now.
you shudder when alastor's hand rests on your ass before coming down hard on it with a smack. your shriek is mostly muffled by the shadow acting as a gag, especially as the second hit comes faster than expected. wiggling in his lap, you whine against his restraints until you feel something prodding at your pussy and go completely limp as a shadow starts to slowly push inside of you.
eyes wide, you wriggle in his grasp but it only earns you a smack to your other cheek. "just relax, darling. or are you scared?" he pouts above you, watching the way your body reacts to his every touch. his tentacle eases into you, stretching your cunt in such a way that you're seeing stars already. you moan against your gag, jolting when you're hit once again. alastor's large palm rubs the irritated, bright red skin as his tentacle fucks you in slow, languid strokes.
you're certainly not scared, and alastor is well aware of that fact by the way your pussy squelches with every push of his shadow. he can hear how wet you are without even looking. you gasp when you feel yet another tentacle pressing ever so gently against your ass, just prodding the tight muscle but not threating to enter. your head whips around to look at alastor, eyes wide with a tinge of panic, but alastor's smirk is reassuring.
he may be teaching you a lesson here, but he's not a monster and respects your boundaries after all.
"tapping out, my sweet?" he snickers when your wide eyes drop to a glare once again. "that's what i thought." he hums, another smack hitting your abused skin. he's just toying with your ass, the tip of his shadow just barely edging its way in but the pressure itself is enough to start pushing you towards the edge. and when the tentacle slips passed the tight ring of muscle, you can't stop your orgasm from following quickly after.
every nerve in your body rings as waves of pleasure crash over your, your moans barely muffled by alastor's tentacle over your mouth. you swear you've never cum harder ever, and yet alastor doesn't stop. he's still pumping his shadow in and out of your cunt, spreading your wetness all over your inner thighs and even onto his pants. it's almost too much, the fullness of having both holes played with as well as the feeling of being restrained the way you were.
your eyes well up with tears, overwhelmed with the sheer pleasure coursing through your veins and alastor doesn't seem like he's going to be stopping any time soon unless you tap out.
and you're not a bitch, so tapping out is not an option.
alastor's free hand reaches your other cheek and spreads it apart, giving himself a view of the action in front of him. he'd be lying if he said his cock wasn't throbbing at the sight of his shadow pumping in and out of your slick pussy, prodding your tight ass. you feel so exposed, you can feel his eyes burning through you but that only makes you clench harder. alastor gives your cheek another quick smack and you're a goner once more.
shaking, your second orgasm hits you even harder somehow. your whimpers are barely audible, but loud enough to make alastor groan himself. "fuck, hands and knees, now." he breathes, pushing you off of his lap and quickly undoing his pants just enough to free his aching cock. your restraints are removed, giving you free access to move once more, but you also lose the fullness of the tentacles. its not for long though, as alastor lines his cock up with your leaking pussy
as alastor starts to slide his cock inside, one hand finds your hip while the other pushes your head into the mattress. your thighs shake with every thrust, and your pussy aches from the prior intrustion already but you can't help yourself from pushing back on him. you probably seem desperate, cumming twice already and still eager for more, but alastor has you like putty in his hands. "oooh now see, who's a good little slut, hm?" he coos, fucking into you harder.
you whimper into the blanket, still muffled like earlier but more pronounced now and alastor's ears twitch with every moan. he won't soon forget this little interaction, seeing you so needy and obedient. he smacks each cheek, enjoying your pathetic sounding cries as your body begs for a break. "cum again, darling." alastor grunts, hips slamming into yours in quick strokes. you shake your head, protesting the potential, but alastor's shadow sneaks around your body to play with your clit.
"n-no too much-" you pant, both convulsing with every flick of his tentacle. alastor just clicks his tongue to his teeth. "one more, sweetheart. then, maybe you'll have learned your lesson." you feel every thrust of his cock hitting right against your cervix, your head spinning as alastor works to pull another orgasm from you. "f-fuckk al-" you cry out, pussy pulsing around his cock, tears springing free from the overwhelming pleasure.
alastor's orgasm follows quickly behind you, and he chooses to pull out and paint your reddened ass cheeks with his cum. the red skin, in contrast with the milky white of his seed is a sight he won't soon forget. you whimper with each thick rope of cum hitting your skin before you collapse onto the bed.
you dont remember too much after that, but alastor gets you cleaned up and you're asleep within seconds.
the next day, you walk into the kitchen with your head down. "ah! good morning, sunshine!" alastor chirps, sipping from his coffee cup. you feel everyone's eyes on you, but all you can do is stare at the ground. "shut it, asshole..." you mumble on your way to grab a drink yourself. alastor just smirks. "naww, is someone embarrassed?" he pouts, eyes wide and teasing. "im never talking to you again." you threaten, but alastor hums and ignores your weak threat.
because you're crawling into his bed that night, begging for more.
taglist: @downbadforfictionalppl @karolinda007-blog @the-alastor-simp @batmanmonstarr @lilcupnoodlez @cxrsedwxrlds @murdertrampx @sssandychemd @jellibean2018
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cherubfae · 3 months
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carrying you to bed || hazbin/helluva x reader
With Alastor, Lucifer, Charlie, Angel Dust, Husk, Loona, & Blitzø
tags: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff
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Alastor
He lets out a deep sigh, staring down at you with slow blinks. "My love, surely that can't be comfortable for you" He has warned you time and time again not to spread yourself too thin with your tasks. Alastor appreciates how much of a good work ethic you have, but what is it worth if you don't have the strength to walk to your room? He picks you up as gently as he can, melding into shadow as he pops into your room. Carefully laying you down, Alastor will cover you up and with a gentle pat on your head before he takes his leave. Perhaps, next time he'll be tempted to rest beside you.
Lucifer
No wonder you hadn't answered him when he called your name. Here you were, fast asleep on his deep red chaise lounge using your folded arms as pillows. Lucifer picks you up bridal-style half-wishing you were awake so that you could see how strong he is! Another time, he thinks. Your rest is much more important than his ego (for now). "Sleep well, honey." He grins, wiggling beneath the sheets like an inch warm, his eyes sparkling with admiration. Placing a kiss to your head, Lucifer is quick to fall asleep.
Charlie
Honestly, she really does try her best not to squeal at the sight of you. You've been working insanely hard for the hotel-- it's no wonder you're so pooped out! She's careful with wiggling one arm beneath your back and hooking the other beneath your knees. She'll carry you to whichever room is closest: yours or hers. Maybe she'll be able to convince you to move into her suite soon. "Oh my gosh, aren't you just the cutest, honey?? I love you so much!"
Angel Dust
"Awww, sweets! Lookit ya! All tuckered out." He cooed in a hushed whisper, lightly booping your nose. His grin widens when it crinkles upwards. His middle set of arms pick you up, preferring to use his gloved ones to stroke back your hair softly. Leaning his cheek against your forehead, Angel carries you off to his room where an excited Fat Nuggets happily circles the bed in preparation for a lovely nap with his two favorite people.
Husk
Putting away the final glass beneath the bar's counter, his yellow eyes drift to your sleeping form at the end of the bar. You'd insisted on waiting for him to finish but all that work promoting the hotel on foot, searching for any sinners ready to be redeemed was a hard task. Husk fought back a smile. "You really do care about this stuff, dont'cha?" He asks despite knowing you won't answer. "Let's get ya to bed." Husk stretches his wings with a sigh before they fall slack. He lifts you into his arms and makes the trek up the stairs.
Blitzø
He'll bitch and groan about it, but he also won't let anyone else touch you when you're sleeping. Blitz will make some claims about how the person trying to touch you probably has cooties or a viral infection or something. Not happening. He's quick to scoop you up into his arms, eyes narrowed slightly, before scampering off to his room with you. "No, you don't get to fuckin' touch them with your gross unwashed hands, Moxxie-- yeah, that's right I saw you! We are living in post-Covid times, mister! Ack, no, leave 'em! I'll carry them just fine thank you!"
Loona
|| please don't repost, reuse, or edit my works in any way! I do not give permission. Tumblr is the only site where I post. All characters belong to their rightful owner and the story belongs to me © CHERUBFAE 2024 ||
She smirks when she sees you. You look so sweet and cute, curled up into a ball. But that position can't be good on your spine, nor sleeping on Blitz's sad depression sofa. Loona bends down to lift you into her arms, pushing open her bedroom with her elbow and closing it shut with her foot. A nap with you sounded perfect. "You sure do look cute when you're tired, babe." She nuzzles your cheek with her nose.
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hotvintagepoll · 20 days
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Propaganda
Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen)—(I hope someone else submits real propaganda but just in case they don't:) Cries. Screams. Wails. The woman who singlehandedly made me realize I was bi. A real "do i want to look like her. be her. or be with her.' crisis, where the answer was all three. Holy shit please all three.
Diahann Carroll (Paris Blues, Carmen Jones, Porgy and Bess)— Face of an angel. She had the range. She brought chemistry with every romance she portrayed. She also had a great fashion sense, and was so pretty Mattel made a doll based off of her.
This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Diahann Carroll:
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Another groundbreaking black actress, although she might be better remembered for her television roles. She was also an activist and worked with charities to support women in need.
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here she is hanging out with shadow prince anthony perkins :3
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Katharine Hepburn propaganda:
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I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual
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The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.
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Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.
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she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot
Fancam link
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She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.
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God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely
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She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.
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She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)
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i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster
youtube
She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).
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Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!
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If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.
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Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.
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This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.
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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months
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Ok what about kitty reader that finds some red string and starts to play with it, and what if kitty reader gets wrapped around in the red string all tied up just when the 141 monster yanderes gets back from hunting (their testosterones are runing so high)
Oh no, little kitty is all tied up and dumb because she resisted too much, and now her cute ass is on display for everyone to use...I'm sure that no one from your beautiful packmates is going to use this. Gaz definitely won't just haul you over his shoulder to everyone's dismay so he can drag you to his nest like the prettiest little toy and then play with your pussy that is way to wet for someone who meowls so much about not wanting for him to spread her legs and then tug on her fluffy tail...Gaz just killed a bunch of enemy monsters in the altercation, he wants someone cute to tell him how strong is he! Soap doesn't have the patience to let you be tied up, unfortunately( out of everyone, he'd love you tied up and cute - when he actually has time to make elaborate knots and not when his balls are going to burst from your tits sticking out so much while all tied up and perky. He promises he'd be gentle, but his claws are already ripping out the bindings and his tongue latches on your tits, keeping you in place. He would leave some of the string intact - mainly for your hands, so you won't be able to push him away or tug on his hair - but you're still stuck in a place like a lovely little plaything. Ghost wouldn't ever disturb the ropes because, fortunately, he has the power to just push his shadow tendrils in your warm, sticky holes, filling you up without the need to prepare you or spread your legs too much. If anything, he doubles down on the number of restraints - seeing you so helpless, with your tail wagging around in panic and your pointy ears trembling, he just loves to put his tongue everywhere, playing with the temperature. As a cat hybrid, you are warmer than a normal human - but oh, Ghost is so cold, he loves to suck on your hot pussy and make you squirm from the contrast( Price would be so mean( bullying you for being a dumb kitty who got stuck in the strings, and now her cute ass is on display for everyone( he is the type to leave you to be fucked by his teammates just so he could lift your limp body in his hands later, making his dumb little kitty warm his cock like a good girl. You are usually too squirmy and active to sit on his cock like a good girl - so it's only for the better that you're tied up now, not writhing away from him like some dumb girl who doesn't know any better.
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nymphany · 10 months
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COD X PUPPY HYBRID! READER
Masterlist
MINORS DNI
WARNING:CONTAINS SEMI DARK THEMES DO NOT READ IF YOURE NOT INTRESTED
Fic contains: taboo / dark content please read this warning if you are triggered by any of this material
Reader info:
Referred with: she/her/girl/you
British! Pan! Short! Afab! Feminine! Reader
Coming soon: cat, bunny, mouse, deer, bear, cow, lamb and bird version
♡ callsign: cadaver!
♡ oh where to start with this little ball of energy!!!
♡ shes so dumb </3 but she's good at her job so that's all that matters
♡ it was a surprise to 141 to be presented with the least intimidating hybrid as their newest addition to the team
♡ this bubbly little thing who was practically shaking in excitement, her tail wagging so hard it looked like it was about to fly off
♡ naturally the men were disappointed that they're newest member wasnt some unbeatable tank but instead a tiny thing who was fueled by praise and treats
♡ speaking of praises and treats gaz cant help but spoil you!! Price tells him not to
"she wont listen if you give her so many treats"
"shes a good girl she always listens"
• hes right you do always listen, you're very obedient maybe too obedient
♡ despite his denial of your treats, your favourite man is obviously price <3 something about puppies and grumpy old men is a match made in heaven !!
♡ you like his ear scratches the best especially when you're in his office with your head on his lap
♡ he says he only likes you for your work but everyone knows that's a lie especially when he pays extra attention to you during lunch. Hes just making sure you eat all your food so you're big and strong
♡ you know how some dads pet their dogs my giving their back a good smack and rub? that's what hed do to you <3
♡ he has a wide selection of beef jerky in his office but you only eat it when someone feeds it to you <3 they're not allowed to hand it to you or place it infront of you they must feed it to you directly!! Makes you happy (you try your best not to nip at their fingers when they feed you but you just get so happy you cant help it)
♡ ghost can never be sarcastic around you your dumb brain cant handle it :( "go count every grain of rice in the kitchens if you're so bothered 'bout the numbers" and you do!!! he feels horrible because he knows you suck at counting :(( it must of took you ages to even get to 50
♡ its okay because it gives soap and gaz an excuse to pamper you!! You dont exactly understand why you're being pampered (must be because you're such a good girl for counting all that rice) but you accept it. It does make ghost feel so much worse for making you do things he didnt mean </3
"You're such a good puppy! You're so good at listening and you're so pretty!"
"Gaz that's enough I already said sorry"
"Aw come on Lt you made the poor thing count every grain of rice cant expect us to not rub it in can ya"
♡ ghost does make it up to you eventually, he takes you on walks around the base and points out secrets and tells you their stories
"Oi pup Do you see that dent in the wall?"
"Yes!"
"Johnny came back after a night out and rammed himself into it thinking his shadow was an intruder"
♡ they always have atleast one of your chew toys on them at all times after they noticed you chewing the inside of your mouth, your fingers, their sleeves or just anything you could fit in your mouth
♡ SCENTING!!!!
♡ your team must smell like you all the time, always, forever !!!! Whenever you get them alone youre immediately licking them!! Sometimes you bite but you're working on it <3
♡ if they come back from somewhere you have to smell them, what if they smell like another hybrid hmm?!?! >:((
♡ which is why you hate baths.
♡ they wipe away all your hard work I mean come on it's not easy to get the scent of your four favourite men nor is it easy to scent them!!! They're constantly around other people >:(((((
♡ luckily you arent the smartest so it's easy to trap and lure you in with kisses <3
♡ some one HAS to be in the bath/shower/ room with you
1. you cant be trusted not to eat the soap (smell nice ≠ taste nice)
2. Its scary in there
3. You get distracted and forget to even get in the bath/shower
♡ they treat you so well though !!! your ears and tail are always so soft when you let gaz wash them, he takes such good care of the soft fur and he never ever let's the bubbles  stay in your ears and he spends a good long time near your tail but you have no idea why <3
♡ soap likes washing your body! He loves watching you relax as he takes his time to make sure you're clean, he loves letting you lean against him as he washes your back and loves watching the suds run down your body. hes so sweet that he makes sure to pay extra attention to your sensitive areas <3
♡ price is the one tasked to dry you off, you seem to only listen to him anyway (of course you do, your dumb doggy brain has to listen to the leader of your pack)
♡ he pulls you against him using your towel as leverage, he so graciously put it in the dryer to warm up so you're all toasty and warm. You sit in his lap while he rubs your body dry whispering praises about your "bravery" to even go into the bath/shower
♡ Which leaves ghost in charge of your skin care!! This big scary man lathering your body in lotions and creams so you're all soft and smooth. He loves the moans and whimpers when he presses down on your weak spots <3
"Oi mutt stop licking the moisturiser"
"No no nooo :((( Say the thing :((("
"....Simons says stop licking the moisturiser"
♡ you never wear clothes after your bath/shower, they're lucky to get underwear on you, you need to be as open to they're scents as possible!! Maybe you'll wear their clothes but only maybe
♡ our puppy wasn't meant to meet Alejandro and Rudy until the mission was over but she said her nose could be put to good use and laswell couldnt help but agree (puppy definitely didn't bribe her or anything puppy hugs do wonders)
♡ at first alejandro didnt even see the girl behind the mountain sized men, assuming it's only ghost and soap coming along
"This is cadaver, our k9 unit she'll be coming along with us"
"Hello!"
"Ah un perro! you'll be very useful"
♡ it was a tight squeeze in the backseat, two military men left little room but it's okay you enjoy sitting on their laps so it's not much different
"So they call you cadaver?"
"Yes sir!"
"You good at hunting corpses?"
"Uh huh! very good! The best!"
"Good because we're looking for a dead man walking"
":00?? A zombie :((("
♡ overall you got on very well with alejandro and Rudy <3 whenever they passed you they always gave a light scratch to your ear
♡ you dont understand the language but you like the attention and that's all that matters, they're so nice and help you cool off in the sun,  you just need to get naked so they can help cool you off just let them help dont even worry about it
♡ you liked graves when you met him he got so hyped up on missions the energy traveled to you
♡ although he definitely tries to make you loyal to him and him only (mmm yummy dark! Graves <3<3) hes always been a fan of hybrids especially the vulnerable ones. Hes best at love bombing you, filling you with treats, pets and roaming hands. Hes a sucker for puppy girls
♡ valeria made you cry when you met her :(( well it was actually rudy but he didnt mean to he felt awful :(((
"Perro estúpido, solo eres una perra reproductora, ¿no? no hay pensamientos en esa linda cabeza tuya"
"Thank you :D"
"Dont thank her shes insulting you"
":(((("
• he gave you so many hugs, treats and kisses after he apologized profusely he forgot how sensitive you are he just didnt want you to thank her for insulting you :((
♡ mommy valeria tho so shes easily forgiven with a few fake compliments.
"You must think twice as hard with that brain of yours"
"Oh no! I dont even think once! :D"
♡ you entertain her, although she does wonder how it would feel to live in your head for a day
"Even the dogs in Las almas know not to bark at me"
"Oh no silly! We're in a shipping container"
"Yes in Las almas"
"Since when"
♡ thinking about how puppy got to keep valeria company while the big strong men go fight, guard dog duties !! Dont ask her how she got naked... and why valerias fingers are pruned... that's not important and you should mind your business
♡ cadaver has a muzzle and harness <3 !!! If you've ever been checked for harness safety you'll understand the feeling of being tugged around and how easy it is to want to jump someones bones
♡ ZOOMIES!!!
♡ always at odd hours too but you cant help it !! you have a lot of energy and you're too dumb to put that energy to good use :(( so it's only natural you jump on everyone and everything <3
♡ nesting with all of their clothes and belongings and they cant stop you or they'll get viciously attacked (you will cry)
♡ sticker collection (scented ones are the best) + mask decorating with ghost !!!!!
♡ konig is a scary big giant man whose just a silly guy at heart but jesus christ he needs to shrink
♡ the first time you met him you actually didnt see him, assuming the sun had exploded and the solid black mass that obscured your vision was the end of the world only to be corrected by an apology from the wall itself
"ah I'm so sorry I didnt see you there"
"Me neither :D"
♡ so big and scary but so warm and protective!! Ghost doesn't like you near konig he doesnt like sharing his toys with kortac
♡ you still hang out with him whenever you get the chance!! <3 friendship bracelets for all!! You did however underestimate how big these mens wrists were and cried when they wouldnt fit
༺*:゚・✧・:*:゚・♡ NSFW ♡・゚:*:・✧・゚:*༻
♡ oral fixation all the way !!
♡ mouth cockwarming!!!! Below prices desk? Yes!! Feeling sleepy and need to suck on something?? Soap is your guy!! Want to learn about the human anatomy? Rudy is there to help
♡ sweaty balls in my mouf
♡ slobbering on them until they scrunch up like raisins, suck the man juice out of them
♡ our puppy has a leash and collar so it's only natural they use it on you, held back by the neck as one of them is pounding into you
♡ puppy likes scent and prefers sex before
and after a work out
♡ listen... piss kink
♡ I just feel like they'd be in a meeting and she tries so so sooo hard to tell someone she needs to pee but they keep telling her to hold it (graves) but she just cant price made sure to keep her hydrated during lunch :(( it's too much and her bladder isnt big enough
♡ whimpers fill the air the sound of dripping water accompanying it their heads turning to face her as sobs bubble out of her mouth along with apologise while she so desperately cover her face to avoid the embarrassment. Her thighs clenched desperately to stop the stream but her attempts were In vain
♡ the first to realise what had happened was soap the fact that he was sitting next to her and had perfect view access to her entire body
"Aw pet don' cry its jus' an accident, happens to the best of us"
♡ :(((( shes so upset but our boys dont mind shes usually so well behaved and she obviously didn't mean to do it on purpose
"Oh puppy you tried so hard to tell us and we completely ignored you didnt we?"
"Uh huh"
"Yeah? And we didnt listen when you said you couldnt hold it did we"
"No i- but I- I did try to hold I really tried hard b-but I couldnt an- and now I've made a mess"
♡ they cant ignore the arousal they get from seeing her soaked and sobbing <3 they know it's wrong, shes upset and embarrassed but they just cant help it
♡ graves is a gross man who looks like fix it felix but dont let that fool you he 100% loves the control he gets from a piss kink especially for our puppy, he likes making you hold it and then mocks you in a high pitched voice but your dumb little brain thinks hes comforting you
♡ I think simon is more one for fucking you until you pee, he usually does it in the shower so he can wash off but he doesnt mind getting dirty, he likes the feeling of your cunt squeezing and gushing around him especially if you try to tell him to stop. Youre gonna pee? Yeah? Do it
♡ gaz is someone who likes to watch you pee he loves the view <3 the fluttering of your cunt draws him in road trip side of road
♡ Johnny, similar to his L.T, is someone who teases you until you pee. Rubbing your clit until its puffy and sore and you cant hold yourself up right let alone your bladder
♡ alejandro and Rudy like watching you wiggle they'll purposefully fill you with liquid and press on your tummy just to watch you squirm, they have bets on who can make you loose it first
♡ price pees in you
♡ theres a reason hes your favourite
♡ you know how I talked about scenting??... I hate to break it to you but she has definitely peed on them/their stuff at some point
♡ you mostly pee on price
♡ "what are you doing"
"Nothin"
"Where are you pants"
"I dont know"
"You're not gonna pee on the floor are you"
"No"
"That's right you're not because that would be bad"
"bad"
"Thats right bad"
"..."
"..."
"..."
"...."
"Just a little"
"No-"
♡ heats are always a pain for you :(( so horny and so wet desperate for someone to fill you with the pups you need. You drive the team crazy with your whimpers and cries but they know you cant help it, you're just achey :(((
♡ bullet vibrators are your best bet as they obviously cant fuck you 24/7 so that small buzzing of pleasure keeps you satiated until they can get their hands on you, the first time you had your heat you couldnt get the small thing out :(( your fingers were too small and it was so slippery you couldnt grasp it :((( you're so lucky your captain is kind enough to help you <3 dont think about his fingers wiggling inside you hes just trying extra hard to get it out that's why hes pumping them in and out of you
♡ sometimes they have to keep you in a cage because you wont stop begging to be stuffed, they dont want a rookie to think that they're allowed to overstep their place just because your in heat
♡ you hump everything!!!! Nothing is safe they take their shirt off for one second and it's on a pillow being jumped by no other than you!! You absolute fiend!!!
♡ you follow them around everywhere you love being around you favourite men!!!
♡ when 141 go on a mission you're left with Rudy and alejandro who always give in to you whines and begs <3 they treat you so well always stuffing you full when you need it, letting you have as much cum as you please, it makes the 141 so jealous that they have to fuck you as soon as they get back!
♡ graves probably pimps out puppy to his shadows there I said it
♡ konig isnt to slick with his touches either, he may think hes going undetected but that's only by our dumb mutt the other men are fuming with him. He let's you sit in his lap, his bear like hands inbetween your thighs rubbing along your most intimate areas you dont exactly connect what hes doing and hes completely okay with that just grind yourself back on him.
♡ he probably asks horangi to help him out, probably stretching you to prepare for the brute of the man
♡ definitely think gangbangs are a big part of your heat, vibrators, plugs, rope and muzzles are all items your familiar with. I like to think they just come and go when fucking you it's almost like a brothel
♡ they definitely finger fuck you while doing mindless tasks, brushing their teeth? You're bent over the sink pushing yourself back onto them, doing paperwork? Being cockwarmed by your snug lil cunt, lifting weights? You're bouncing on their cock weighing them down
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4izawas · 6 months
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╰─▸ ❝ 𝐇𝐄’𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 ( 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄 ). ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀.
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: His eyes are hooded, dark with a venomous lust that used to frighten you — but you aren’t the shy lamb sent to slaughter that you once were, are you?
𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: jujutsu kaisen | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ryomen sukuna/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 3.49k.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: concubine reader, demon king sukuna, sacrificial lamb x vicious monster trope, fem reader, manipulative reader, canon-typical violence, background character death, reader got a death grip on sukuna w the pussy ngl, breeding kink, fingering, sukuna has two cocks bc duh?, throne sex, cowgirl, no condoms, double penetration, accidental voyeurism, minor exhibitionism, creampies, biting, kissing, pregnancy mentions, murder, blood, gore, didn’t think i’d have to say this verbatim ( but after wasted summer ig i must ) but reader isn’t a good person.
𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: he is so so mean and yet … here i am wanting his balls in my mouth 😔✊
— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!
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The stone flooring is cold against your bare feet, icy and sharp in ways that you used to be able to say you were unused to — but after a handful of years as your lord’s most desired concubine, you’d grown more than used to the endless chill of stone against your soles. 
Only a few short years ago you’d been sent into the mountains to the dusky temple of the demon lord Ryomen Sukuna, a toy for him to fuck then eventually rip apart as soon as he grew bored of you. Bound by the wrists with ropes that had scarred, you were dragged up the mountainside and thrown upon a vast stone table, bound yet again with your hands tugged over your head and your legs spread to opposing corners. Your inner thighs had each been granted one deep slash so blood would begin to flow, and then you had been abandoned there. Alone and in tears, night had fallen faster than you’d been found, and you’d almost felt frozen and delirious when the first shadows of a monstrous figure had caught your eyes. 
He had been a terrifying monster, sporting a vast mouth on his abdomen, two sets of eyes, four arms, and two pairs of legs all connected to a towering frame — all things normally singular about the human form had been doubled, and the owner of such a body had slunk over to you all while salivating. At first you’d feared he’d molest you, then you feared being devoured — but he’d mocked you cruelly and cut you loose before dragging you along behind him by the rope binding your wrists with your slit thighs screaming, your journey ending with him casting you at a half dozen women you later learned to be his concubines, and you’d not left his great stone temple in the mountains ever since. On the contrary, your life had become much easier — you led a life of luxury nestled comfortably on your knees atop a plush pillow next to your lord’s hip, you followed wherever he led you to go, and you warmed his bed and his cock whenever he so chose — which was often. 
Today was one such day, and you desired nothing more than to ready yourself to see the man who clung to you as if he were starved and you were a magicked feast. 
“Off to see the King again?” one of the other concubines, Ino, asks snidely as you loosely drape chains of delicate gold over your skin, and you sigh. Ino always started fights whenever she saw the chance, and you were more than tired of it. Still, a verbal spar was nothing for the King to sneeze at, so he wouldn’t make any attempts to stop it; some days he even found the arguments amusing. 
“Must I really answer your question?” You ask tiredly. “He has called for me—“
“As he does every day,” another concubine, Shouko, snaps. “He never calls upon us anymore, not like you.”
“I didn’t ask for this,” you snap back, and in response the bane of your existence stomps forward, smelling of the honeysuckle and melons that grew along the mountainside where you all resided. 
“Maybe if you’d not come here and thrown yourself at him like a common whore, we wouldn’t be in this predicament,” Inko, Ino’s elder sister, snarls aggressively. Her eyes are dark and stormy, and her voice low and angry like a startled rattlesnake. “We all had a proper system before you came and ruined everything — but that’s all you know how to do, isn’t it? Traipsing in here practically naked from your first day and swallowing his cock down like it was what you were born for, then even daring to take away my night as well as Komori’s the following day.” Komori was another concubine, one nearly as bitter as Inko; she, however, chose to ruin what few of your belongings she could rather than spar with you verbally.
It was always the same with them — always angry that your lord doted on you more than the others, that he cooed at you so fondly while growls were occasionally sent their way ( growls you’d never received ), and that jewels and silks were lain reverently across your soft skin as rewards for earning his affections. “Maybe he likes me better for a reason, Inko,” you say coldly, standing your ground. “Maybe he isn’t calling upon you anymore because he’s realized how much of a surly bully you are — or maybe he’s grown tired of your once overused loose cunt.”
The sound of a  loud, harsh slap echoes through the room, followed immediately by startled gasps of shock and your face stinging painfully; as much as you all threw poisoned words through the air like arrows were loosed from an archer’s bow, none of you had ever dared lay a hand on one another. 
Your face burns, both from the pain from the hard slap and from a barely repressed anger, as you turn back from where it had been forcibly swung to the side at Inko’s strike to glare at her. 
“You’ll start being a lot happier with your life when you stop basing it around both mine and a man’s,” you hiss before exiting the makeup room and navigating your way through the halls of Lord Sukuna’s temple before finally entering the throne room. He was listening to a few servants of his describe the look of the lands outside the temple, and what they believed the upcoming winter would offer them, but he brushed them away upon realizing you’d entered. 
“Oh, my sweet treasure,” he purred warmly. “Come closer so I can bask in your beauty as I do every day.”
Obedient as always, you do just that, drifting closer before kneeling before him in acknowledgement of his power. Before you do so, you see the look in his eyes, and it sends a shot of fire to your stomach that you know all too well; his eyes are hooded, dark with a venomous lust that used to frighten you — but you aren’t the shy lamb sent to slaughter that you once were, are you?
“My lord Ryomen,” you murmur in a voice as thick and sweet as honey while just as deceptive as it would be when a part of a trap for flies. He stands, striding down the short set of stairs that led to his throne for you as he did for no other, and in a gruff voice commands you to stand at your full height. You do as told like always, and it doesn’t take long for him to catch sight of your aching face, which was no doubt starting to bruise.  
He gently grabs you by the jaw, careful that his claws do not prick your soft skin as he tilts your head to reveal your cheek to him. “Your beautiful face…” King Sukuna rumbles lowly, his voice an angered growl as he gently tips you by his grip on your jaw to look at the bruising handprint marring your face, and his eyes are as stormy as the sky outside of the temple as thunder booms amongst the clouds. “Who dared do this to you?”
“Inko,” you murmur quietly, then whine, “She called me a common whore and said I ruin everything. It hurt my feelings.”
“She will be punished,” he promises, cupping your face and kissing your forehead fondly in a show of slight sweetness that you knew he showed no other and strove to keep hidden at all times. Typically his words would comfort you, but not today. You were tired of Inko’s behavior, and a week locked alone in a room with nothing but bread and milk was no longer fitting in your eyes. 
You wanted her dead.  
“Fill me with your seed, my Lord,” you beg sweetly, and he groans while grabbing you borderline painfully tight and grinds your crotches together as you stand together in the throne room, allowing you to feel him at half-hardness. “I want to carry your spawn for you, just like you always say.” It was true; Demon King Ryomen Sukuna was a weak man when it came to his almost wicked thoughts of breeding one of his women’s fertile cunts, but he’d not yet filled any of his concubines’ wombs with life. That privilege, you knew, was to be yours alone — and with how desperately you knew he wanted it, you’d get your prize of Inko’s head on a golden plate and he would get his of the instinctual want for an heir before the week was up. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, standing as high on your tiptoes as you can to do so, and as usual he dips down so you can mouth sweetly at his skin, feeling one pair of arms rest at your hips while the other gently cup your face. “Let me ride you on your throne, my king,” you whisper sweetly, pulling your face from his hold and closing your teeth around one of his earlobes, tugging lightly. You both feel and hear the aroused growl leave his throat, and you move to nip at the base of his throat before asking again. “Please, beloved one?” you beg lightly, pressing a kiss to his jaw as he basks in the attention from your lips and your now wandering hands, which bury themselves in his hair in just the way he likes. “I want you to fill me in the way that only you will ever be able to. I desire the honor of bringing you life.”
You’re being dragged to his throne before you know it, your words plenty enough to tip him over any and all edges he had when it came to you, and he’s taking a seat and tugging you up onto his lap with a practiced ease that you both remembered all too well. He grinds his cock up into the crux of your thighs, his already hard length pressing against the place you were always bare for him beneath your skirts so perfectly. It only takes a moment for him to loose his cock from his robes, and even less time for him to press two of the fingers on one of his other three hands into your wet hole, the appendages curling just so inside so as to toy with you and prepare you for the vast stretch of one ( or even both ) of his cocks. 
“F-Fuck — M’Lord, there-!” You whimper shakily, hips bucking into his touch as he presses one callused thumb to your clit and begins drawing harsh circles on it in time with each curl of his fingers. 
“I know, sweet treasure, I know,” He murmurs softly. “I’ll take care of you — gotta get ya’ all nice and sloppy for me, dear one.”
“No more!” You whine impatiently. “Want you in me!”
His eyes are already dark, but they seem to darken even further at your senseless pleading. “As my foolish girl begs,” he says in mock-sweetness, pulling his fingers from your sopping cunt with a wet shlk! and beginning to use what you’d left on them to wet his cock rather than lick them clean like usual. Your heart ba-bump!s in your chest as a nervous shiver courses through you, but you don’t back down — you’d take his cocks and the resulting child of this coupling as well. 
“Oh gods — yes, please-!” you whimper, feeling the way he drags his cock against your slickened slit, and he chuckles lightly before pressing the fat head in. A stuttery gasp falls from your lips as your head does likewise to his shoulders, and you cling to him desperately as you begin to sink down onto him entirely. In what feels like forever ( but is really only a couple short seconds ) he’s fully sheathed inside of you, and you both still for a moment to soak in the feeling of both filling and being full — and the the Demon King decides the time to adjust is up, and begins fucking up into you. 
You bounce on his lap, moaning brazenly like a woman in a whorehouse, and your nails dig into his skin as he uses you like a toy for his own pleasure. Each drag of his thick cock inside you alights a fire in your belly as it always does, and you keen from your place on his lap as all four of his arms rove your body — two palming at your tits, one rubbing cruel circles on your swollen clit, and the third thrown around your waist. 
“Fuck… Fuck…” he moans, biting at your neck, and you whine needily while grinding down on him, trying your hardest to tempt him into forcing his second cock inside. Unfortunately, you doubted he would, considering he was always so cautious not to break his favorite toy ( you weren’t a fool, there was no love in his heart — there remained no heartstrings for you to tug on, only his sensitive cock. ), but seemingly today was an exception as a hand on one of your tits releases it just so he can grab his second length and press it against your sopping wet hole. The thick ring of cream around the base of the cock he’d already filled you with smears across his second as he urges the tip inside, a short scream falling from your lips as it pops in after a long moment of slightly-pained pressure. 
You’re overfull, tears are rolling down your cheeks, but Lord Sukuna just licks them up and begins using your body like the hole to fuck it is, bluncing you brutally on both of his cocks all while still seated on his massive throne. Behind you, you hear the wide doors to the throne room open, but it isn’t until a scandalized cry fills the room that you turn to look while your lord master continues fucking you without a care in the world for the eyes watching. 
“My Lord-? Oh gods, my apologies! I beg your forgiveness, my king!” The hand that had wandered in wails, falling to his knees in subservience at the realization that he’s just walked in on his lord taking his most favorite concubine in the throne room. The sight of both of his king’s cocks sinking so deeply into your glistening cunt had his own single cock twitching beneath his robes, but there was no way in hell he would ever dare to act on such a thing; the last time someone other than the king himself had touched a concubine with their unworthy hands, both had been torn apart in the King’s rage and fed to the carrion birds. 
“Fuck, you’re nothing but my sweet whore, aren’t you?” Sukuna groans deeply, ignoring the man entirely as you refocus entirely on him and the feelings he was forcing upon you. 
“Y-Yes, my king,” you moan shakily, your eyelashes fluttering as an ever-present knot starts to grow tighter in your lower belly alongside the overfull feeling, fueled by a heat that always burns in his presence.
“Cum on my cocks,” Sukuna orders through a moan. “Give it to me, I command you — I want to feel your cunt pulse around me as you come undone.” As he speaks he speeds up the circles he was drawing on your clit, and within moments you’re falling apart around him, crying out in ecstasy as he lets out a demonic roar and oresses himself as deeply inside as he can before emptying his balls. Faintly you register his eyes rolling back as he cums, but you’re too wrapped up in him to truly give a damn about any of it. 
After a few moments he begins to tug you off of his lengths, the muscles in your body just as instinctually unwilling to give them and their stretch up as you are as a natural resistance shows before being overtaken by you clenching down on him. “No,” you whimper, holding him tight. “Mine.”
“Y’gotta let me go, my precious jewel,” he rumbles quietly, and the urge to actually cry fills you and you just cling tighter. 
“No,” you say again, a fresh wave of tears stinging at your eyes. “Don’t wanna.”
A low groan falls from his lips, but he stops fighting you. You barely react as he lifts you, his inhuman strength making most any show of strength possible ( and making lifting you something easily scoffed at ), and you do likewise as he carries you off to his private chambers. A questioning noise falls from your half-chapped lips as he closes the massive open door of the two closed behind him, and he just shushes you before pulling the silk sheets and thick blankets and furs back before placing you on them. He’s straddling you, still stuck due to your clinging, and it takes a brief moment of wrestling with you before he manages to finally pull out. 
A borderline sickly wet noise fills both his and your ears as his cocks are drawn from your needy cunt, and the rush of thick demon cum that follows makes you whine pathetically. He just clicks his tongue at you and tugs on a rope made of golden chord that would ring a bell in one of the servant’s halls and summoned one such person, ordering them to ready your nightly meal ( despite the sun still being up ) so you could eat then sleep at your own leisure. Once the trembling man is gone, he joins you in bed. 
“I hope you meant your urging for me to grant you a child,” he purrs, biting at your shoulder while you press close to him. He pulls away, sitting up on the side of the bed, “Because there’s no going back now — you will carry my seed in your belly until you birth me a child.”
None of this matters to you. You had always planned to birth his first child, had always known that it was what your fate held for you — this moment was not for talk of a baby, no. You wanted your prize. 
“My dearest lord,” you sniffle needily, sliding from the bed on shaky legs and sinking to your knees between his legs, then propping yourself up over your crossed arms on them with a pout downturning your lips. A quickly growing puddle of his leaking cum begins to drip on the floor between your legs. “Please kill Inko — she’s so very mean to me, and all the other concubines are too because she’s been here so long.” Your bottom lip trembles as fresh tears start, and he sighs. 
“But her cunt is so sweet, dear one,” he murmurs, and you whimper and hide your face in one thick, muscled thigh. 
“You said she was loose. Besides, she hit me — I carry your spawn inside of me, and she hit me.” You didn’t have even his cum in you then, much less a conceived child — but you knew how to play the Demon King’s instincts, and the slight angered huff through his nostrils betray the rage simmering beneath his skin. All it would take was the tiniest push further. “It was the face this time, the face you own, but what if she pushes me down the stairs next? I could lose my life.”
Growling fills the air, and you know you've done it. 
“Rest here,” he says quietly, his voice shaking with rage, “Servants will be here to attend to you in a few minutes.”
He helps you up with one hand, half-tossing you onto the cushy bed, then begins making his way out of his private rooms. “Where are you going?” you call innocently, pushing a frightened tremor into your voice. “My lord Ryomen, please don’t leave me — I’m always so frightened without you!”
He stops in the middle of the room; you can see him shaking with anger. “I have business to attend to,” he says through gritted teeth. 
Your eyes glitter. “Come back to me soon, beloved one — I miss you desperately every moment you are away.” 
A grunt is your only response, and he exits the room as servants wheel in your dinner. You curl up prettily in his massive nest of a bed, and you peruse the options he’d granted you eagerly. When he was done, he’d use the excess rage to fuck you again — you’d need to quell what appetite you have now and then some if you wanted enough energy to survive. 
In the distance, furious roaring mixes with shrill, fearful screaming, and you delicately tug apart the roast duck you’d been served as the sounds of more concubines than just Inko being killed fills the temple. Servants cower, and the younger cupbearers whimper, but you just smile softly and hold out your emptied cup. 
“I would like more pear juice, please.”
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𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.
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1K notes · View notes
ghouljams · 6 months
Note
Friend.
Viking!Ghost with a huge wolf-dog.
Or, even better : shepherd!reader with a huge wolf-dog, or two ; big, ferocious babies who absolutely love the guy, smothering him in kisses and floof every time he visits his darling. Huge balls of fluff who are absolutely delighted when he picks both of them up as if they were still puppies. Reader falling a little bit more in love with him every time she catches him interact with them, gently talking to them as their tails wag and wag and wag. And Ghost who has to suck in a breath when he finds her asleep in the barn after she spent the night helping one of her sheep give birth, the two dogs acting as really big and warm blankets, along with all the other sheep ; just a huge pile of snuggles that won’t let any kind of cold wind through. Just utter cuteness, and the huge, powerful viking is smitten.
My period has been acting up since yesterday, and last night was a nightmare. I’m a little bit better, but I can’t eat otherwise it’s gonna start all over again. I am not hurt, I AM the hurt. I really wish I had a big doggo or one of my cats to snuggle with, or a partner to help with the panic attacks this shoot always comes with (or all of those, I need warmth and cuddles and love).
I wanna write, by I can’t, because brain not braining properly. So I’m imagining fluffy scenarios while listening to the rain outside.
The birds are singing in harmony with the rain. It’s a cozy melody.
Lots of love, Friend.
Mii, out (like a light, soon, probably).
You're getting used to the visits. The giant of a viking that hovers just at the edge of your fence, watching like he's got something to say only to turn away when you ask him to say it. The dogs like him, galloping over to the man every time his shadow crosses your fence. They wiggle and jump like puppies, pushing their big paws against his chest and stretching long with their heads back, the only man that hasn't been bowled over by them yet. You can't blame them for their affections.
Your guest scoops up one of them and cradles the overgrown mutt against his chest. Your dog, for all its ferocity, licks at his mask like the tamest pup in a litter. You get your flock settled before making your way over. It's a fair assumption the viking won't walk away with your dog, so you're guessing he's worked up the nerve for a conversation. You manage to get all the way to the fence, though he takes a step back when you lean against it. You switch your attention to the dog still on the ground and scratch under her chin. Her big eyes stare sadly up at you, as if you could pick her up like the viking.
"Ghost," he says, and you're struck by how rich his voice is, deep and smokey as a dwarves cavern, "you can call me Ghost," he explains, apparently having realized his attempted start at a conversation wasn't going to go anywhere.
"There another viking hidin' his face like you?" You ask him, the introduction is lovely (if a little awkward) but everyone in the village knows Ghost. Or, they know of him. Nobody really knows him. You figure that's what the mask is for.
"Suppose not," he replies, and there's a touch of humor in his voice you hadn't expected. It makes you think he's smiling. Somehow that makes your cheeks feel hot. Strange.
"What do you need Ghost?" You ask, leaning against the fence. He leans to put your dog down, and the other one goes to nose his hand. He scratches her head lightly before straightening up.
"Just came to pet the dogs," he tells you. You smile. "No show this time?" He asks.
"No wolves," you nod towards the pasture, your flock safe and sound as they graze. Your eyes land on the wolf fang sewn to his leather. It's familiar enough to make your heart squeeze. You wish he'd come for you.
-
You're not out in the pasture, or answering the door when he knocks. It's early but Ghost didn't think you'd be that sound a sleeper. Fucking hell it's early, he shouldn't even be here but he wanted to see you before he left and- and he couldn't stop himself. He was delaying leave for his own selfish desired, but he couldn't stop himself from coming out to your little pasture. He had no excuse for it, nothing he could tell you, but he didn't want to talk to you he wanted to see you.
These are two different things.
He wanders around the fence you've put up, sturdy, well maintained. He wonders if you fix it up yourself or ask someone else to do it. You could ask him, he'd fix it for you. He'd fix anything for you. As long as it was you asking, he could do anything.
He stops outside a little covered barn, the hay leading into it is fresh, the doors slightly ajar. It's a good bet if he's ever seen one. The hinges don't stick when he inches the door open to look inside.
One of your dogs lifts its head from your lap, and stares at him, it's fluffy tail wagging softly against the hay. You're asleep, of course you're asleep. Sprawled over the hay, your dogs cuddled around you, the rest of the sheep settled to huddle close to their shepherd as well. You're surrounded by thick wool and wirey dogs, hardly bothered by the animals and straw as you sleep through the wee hours of the morning. You don't even look cold.
Ghost unhooks his cloak, the black leather and wolf's fur feeling ominous in such a pastoral scene, and drapes it over you like a blanket. Your dogs sniff it inquisitively, nosing it until he pushes their heads away with gentle pats. He tucks the fur against your neck and strokes his knuckles against your cheek. You're so beautiful, soft and vulnerable even under your fangs. He would have taken you to bed last night if you'd let him. Stayed up to watch the ewe and her new lamb while you curled up under the pelt blankets to sleep. How safe must you feel? How safe would he feel?
His thumb strokes against the fur and he stands. You'll still be here when he gets back, maybe not in the barn but here. In the village, in your pasture, right where he knows he can find you.
And hopefully, you'll be wearing his cloak when he does.
1K notes · View notes
azsazz · 5 months
Text
A Snowy Starfall
Daddy!Azriel x Reader
Summary: Anon Req: Batbabies waging their OWN snowball fight imitating their dad & uncles. Some take it too seriously, others don't take it seriously at all, it's pure chaos that ends in cocoa.
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 2,003
Notes: Happy Holidays my loves 💙
_________________________________________
“Come on, you three,” you tut towards your mate and his friends. They’re standing before the large glass windows overlooking your backyard. The sun casts deep oranges and reds across the snow-ridden land, your children shrieking as they play in the snow. A valiant snowball fight is running its course, and Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand stand, faces pressed to the windows as they watch, quietly cheering their children on. “They’re going to notice you staring.”
“Maybe they already have,” Feyre adds from her spot at your kitchen counter. She’s concentrating intently on decorating a cookie, adding swirls of black icing to the gingerbread woman’s hand, creeping up her extended arm. The cookie’s dress is provocative, bare dough legs showing between slats of laced icing. She hardly glances up as she continues, “They’re probably imitating them as we speak.”
Curious, you peek out the window, too. Indeed, Wren and Baz have built a fortress in the snow to protect themselves from the onslaught of snowballs being thrown their way. Gideon and Nyx have joined forces against the two brothers, the latter packing the fluffy snow into tight, white balls, while Gideon launches their ammo towards your sons.
Your eldest daughter, Zuzu, and Nyx’s younger sister, Asteria, had joined the competition early on. They’d been a formidable team too, but grew bored of their brothers and cousin who were taking the snowball fight a little too seriously. Now, they are in the snow with little Castor, who had cried until she’d been let outside by her protective father, bundled up in so many clothes her wings nearly disappeared into the fabric. The girls are making snow angels, though Castor’s looks very much like a circle on the lawn.
Dark streaks dart behind the wall your sons have built and you frown, watching as Baz’s shadows help roll clumps of snow closer, creating perfectly circular snowballs. From what you’d heard from your husband’s friends, using shadows was against any and all snowball fight rules.
You cut Azriel a glance but he’s conveniently occupied, watching the game outside.
“Well, at least they’re both on the same team,” you comment to your mate, who refuses to let his gaze stray from the little boys. Good, he can watch them while he does the dishes then, since there’s a window above the sink. You pat him on the ass, nodding towards the mess of dishes in the sink. He nods in response, loping quickly over to peer out the window again. “So they’ll either both lose or both win.”
“They’ll both win,” Az responds immediately, a quick but pointed look your way. “They do take after me.”
Cassian scoffs behind you and you turn to see a scowling Nesta shooting him a look as he tries to steal a cookie. Jax giggles in her lap at his uncle's antics, but when Cassian hands him part of the cookie and its head falls off, Jax’s smile wobbles. He’s not outside due to the nature of his powers. As an empath, sensing the competitive nature of his siblings and the sting of a snowball to the face, it had been in his best interest to be inside around the luscious scents of cookies and warmth, instead of out in the bitter snow.
Nesta coos, bouncing him, and Cassian is thankful for the distraction, slipping further down the counter to where the High Lord sits, trying—and failing—to gain his mate's attention. The commander slips an arm around Rhys’ shoulders and glares at the back of Azriel’s head, continuing his complaining. “The only reason you’ve won so many is because of those damn shadows, Az.”
Azriel throws over his shoulder, wincing as Baz takes a snowball to the face, his face going red with fury. “How was I supposed to know they were unaffected by the magic restrictions?” he claims, sending said shadows out into the yard once he sees Baz’s slipping through the snow, headed for the icicles hanging off the railings of the porch. His intercept his sons in a display of authority, spearing them into blackened mist. Baz glances up to the window, locking eyes with his father, who wears a look of warning on his face, brow raised. Azriel watches his son visibly huff and take his anger out on the snow, building a ball and launching it across the playing field in frustration.
His gaze cuts across the yard, narrowing his eyes. Gideon and Nyx are crouched low behind their own pile of snow, looking like they’re scheming. He wants to trail his shadows in their direction, listen in on their conversation, but he’s alerted to Malos’ whines from the other room. If one of his youngest is awake, they either both are, or will be soon.
“Malos is up,” Az tells you softly, shutting off the water to the sink. He wipes his hands on a towel and kisses you gently on the cheek. You’re mixing color into icing for the cookies, getting ready for when it’s too dark out for the children to play. They’ll get all cleaned up and have some hot chocolate to warm their bellies, and you, Feyre, and Nesta have baked cookies for all of the children to decorate. “I’ll get them.”
“I’ll join,” Cassian answers, stealing another cookie off of a platter. He dunks it into your icing to the neck, the cookie dripping with sugary goodness as he lifts it to his mouth, shoving it inside. He ducks under your glare. “Gotta go get my baby.”
Cassian and Nesta’s youngest daughter, Sif, had been put down for a nap with both Knox and Malos. She’s still a little too young to be outside without supervision, and the eldest children of the Inner Circle demanded time outside without their parents, probably because they knew their fathers would try and take over their snowball fight had they been outside. They didn’t want any tips or tricks, not even your children, even with Azriel’s hundred of wins beneath his belt.
Jax climbs from Nesta’s lap over Rhys who lets out a harsh exhale when his knee lands a little too close to his private area, and then over to Feyre, who finally sets her cookie down to scoop your middle son in her arms.
“Pretty,” Jax comments, pointing at her decorative cookie. It looks just like her, and there’s one next to it that looks a little like Rhysand. Purple dots for eyes stare up at him. “Uncle Rhysie?”
“Good job, Jax,” Feyre coos, pressing kisses to his cheeks. They pink with a blush and he settles into her arms, looking utterly at bliss. He revels in the warmth of her emotions, the pride surging through her. It feels like warm bubbles in his chest, and he noses at her collar.
“Look who’s ready to party,” Azriel announces, entering the room, arms full with your two youngest children, Malos and Knox. Knox still looks a little sleepy, head resting against Azriel’s shoulder, cuddling into his warmth. His tiny wings are droopy with sleep, and his twin sister, Malos, is already reaching for the cookies. 
Nesta is quick to scoop her away from Azriel. She claims not to have a favorite niece, but Malos and her have an understanding. You see more of Nesta in Malos’ personality than any of the children of the Inner Circle, and you’re extremely happy that they have such a close connection. 
“Hi baby,” you greet Knox, who is signing mommy to you. You ease him out of Azriel’s arms, who promptly returns to his position in front of the window, pressing exaggerated kisses to his chubby cheeks. It makes him smile wide, flaring those wings that he hasn’t quite figured out how to control. “Are you ready for some yummy cookies?”
His dark eyes light with excitement. Of course your children are ready for sweets, they always are. They picked that up from Azriel, who has the biggest sweet tooth you’ve ever seen.
Cassian reenters the room with his daughter in his arms and Rhys pouts. Almost everyone in the room is preoccupied with a child in their arms, except for him. Maybe he can convince Feyre to have one more. The youngest children in the family are two now and he misses having a tiny babe around.
By the heated look in her eyes, his mate seems to be considering the same, sneaking past those shadowy walls in his mind to catch a glimpse of his thoughts. The High Lord smirks. He sends her over some imagery to go with his thoughts, and her cheeks go red. That hot look turns into one of warning, and she’s speaking out loud now, “Why don’t you call the children inside so they can get warmed up and decorate some cookies?”
“Of course, darling,” Rhys sweeps from his seat in a wisp of darkness. 
Breaking a cookie in half, you give part of it to Knox, who signs thank you, munching on the sweet. The other half is passed to Malos as you head towards where your mate is finishing up the dishes, leaning against him for a moment, reveling in all of your family happily together.
“I love you,” Azriel murmurs into your hair, leaning over to sneak a bite of Knox’s cookie. Your son stares up at his father with wide eyes, and like this, he looks just like Az. It makes your heart warm, and Jax squeals in happiness in response, your happiness radiating to him. It makes your grin wider, peeking over your shoulder to see him so content in his aunt's arms. 
“I love you too, Az,” you whisper back to him, resting your forehead against his. 
It’s a nice moment, until the children from outside are wrangled through the door by Rhys. The boys are arguing about who has won their snowball fight, while the girls are peeling away their winter gear, excited to decorate cookies with icing and sprinkles and the edible petals Elain had given you before her trip to the Summer Court with Lucien. 
“Now, now, boys,” Rhys starts, but the diplomatic tone he’s using does nothing to deter the cousins from arguing. “I’m sure we can come to a consensus without yelling and acquiescing.”
“But Baz used his shadows,” Nyx complains, wringing his gloves between his hands in frustration. “We all saw it.”
“Nyxie, don’t be mean to Baz,” Wren counters, brows furrowed. He doesn’t like it when his family argues, especially over trivial things. His heart is so kind. “You can win the snowball fight if you want, but Baz and I are gonna win the cookie decorating contest, right Bazzy?”
“No,” Baz says flatly, dropping his gear onto the floor. You give him a look but he almost seems un-bothered by it, done with the debate his cousins are currently having. “We won the snowball fight and we’re going to win the cookie decorating contest.” 
You share a look with your mate, watching the scene unfold. Baz is quite the Stubborn Suriel, no matter what it comes to.
“Dad,” Nyx groans, “Can’t you do something?”
Cassian is the one who comes to the rescue, Castor reaching up at him for her sister. He helps the little one down and the older one with her undressing, peeling her thermals off layer by layer. “It’s not about who won, right boys? It’s about spending time and having fun with the ones you love.”
Feyre, Nesta, and yourself awe at his words, but Azriel and Rhysand are rolling their eyes and muttering under their breath at Cassian’s cheesy words. 
“What a kiss ass.”
“Smug fucker.”
“Azriel,” you hiss, turning your body away from him, like that will hide Knox from his vulgar words. “Language.” 
He winces, “Sorry love.” 
It’s your turn to roll your eyes now, bouncing Knox in your arms a little as you turn fully from your mate. You poke Knox’s belly playfully before addressing the rest of the room. “How about those cookies, then? They won’t decorate themselves!”
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hey! can you please write a lando × bustamante reader....where the reader is the younger sister of Bianca Bustamante and has a huge crush on lando but Lando finds her irritating for some reasons and one day he shouts at her after a bad race when she tries to console him in front of the McLaren crew.. after that lando felt really bad and he had grovel a lot for forgiveness (btw the reader is only one year younger than bianca)....if you do write this thank you very much 🧡🧡
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🎀1,317 words 8561 Characters around 5 pages enjoy 🎀
ooo I’m not the biggest fan of bianca but I do love this trope :)
You knew that life was never meant to be fair to everyone yet you had no idea why life constantly tried to screw with you.
Ever since you were a child, you’d always been compared with your older sister, Bianca. She was always seen as the brave, bold, and beautiful one who dared to achieve her dreams and had high ambitions. Whereas people, heck, even your own family, saw you as the timid, overlooked, and frankly dull sibling. Did it hurt growing up like that? Yes, it did.
Did it hurt when all the boys you had a crush on would only use you to get to your sister? Yes, it did. Did it hurt to see your sister achieve everything you’d ever wanted in life and for you to only be known as her sidekick, or, in other words, her shadow? You really don’t remember the last time you’ve ever set yourself apart from your sister and her needs; it’s almost second nature for you to prioritise her and ignore yourself.
This habit of yours was noticed by the eyes of a young British driver. He’s found that habit of yours annoying ever since.
The day Bianica signed for McLaren under F1 Academy was the best and worst day of your life. You were beyond happy for her but you also felt yourself fading further into her shadow. With more media coverage and attention on your sister, you simply faded away.
You had frankly thought about packing your bags and going back home until the same blue-eyed British driver caught your attention. It was silly to say, but you felt like a little teenager with a huge crush.
You knew it wasn’t right to have a crush on your sister’s coworker, but the way he was made it almost impossible. You liked the way he talked, the way he walked, and the way he still had his accent. You liked the way his nose wrinkled any time you talked about sushi or fish. You liked the way that he was a ball of energy, always so confident and fun to be around. What you liked the most about him was the way he made you feel seen and heard. When you were with him, it was almost like you were just you and not Bianca's little sister.
However, within all the giddy feelings of having a crush on Lando, you could not ignore how badly McLaren was doing. It was almost pitiful how poor their race performance was. Qualifying 18 and 19th and having to come into the pits four times in the race would kill anyone’s mood. Lando was no different; over the course of the season, he grew more and more aggressive and agitated after each race.
Lando and her had formed a little ritual: after each race, he would do his interviews while she would wait in the garage, and he would go into his driver's room, and exactly 5 minutes later, she would show up with any sweet treat she could snuggle in, and they would just talk. Some days it would be him talking and her listening, and other days it would be her lifting his confidence up with encouraging words. It is safe to say she really loved their ritual, only hoping to continue their ritual with better results for him.
As the season went on, she noticed a shift in Lando's behavior. His happygo-llucky attitude towards her started to shift towards a more annoyed and irritated mood. It started when she tired of talking to him before a race; he didn’t take kindly to that and simply ignored her and rolled his eyes. It hurt her; it really did, and she could do nothing about it.
They were not friends; they were just forced to be together due to their situations. She knew he would never like her back, but her infatuation with him made each and every move he made romantic.
It started to affect her more when he started distancing himself from her. Lando never wanted to hurt her; he started getting fond of the girl he once was annoyed with. He didn’t know why he started cutting her off; he was trying to play dumb, but deep down he knew he started having feelings for her.
He messed up in Silverstone both on and off track. Home Grand Prixs always have a special place in drivers hearts. It was no different with Lando; Silverstone was the one place every British driver wanted to win in front of their home crowd on their home soil.
The race was long anticipated; she was in his driver's room prior to the race; they had their normal routine done and dusted; he stared at her for a second longer; and she started at his lips for even longer.
They both knew the tension in the room was inevitable; someone just had to make a move. McLaren was proper shit during qualifying, so all expectations were nullified even before the race started. With Lando starting in P9 and Oscar in P5, it irked Lando how well Oscar was doing in the same car as him. A rookie driver beating the team's star child was never a pretty image.
The race started with Lando’s car being 2 seconds off the pace of K-Mag, which was really nice for him. As the race progressed, Lando almost made up 3 places by the end of the 38th lap.
However, McLaren messed up Lando in the pits, being stationary for almost 18 seconds. His 6th place turned into a plum last, and to make matters worse, he ended up retiring the car simply out of spite. He knew he was mad, and he showed it really well on the cameras, especially towards his team.
She knew it was a risk to go see Lando, especially after seeing how mad and snappy he looked. She knew he was probably beating himself up over the way this race went. It didn’t help that Oscar ended up on the podium. It was horrible, really, but neither of them could do anything.
He saw her enter his room; he didn’t like that. He didn’t want her to see him like this, all beaten and broken down. He didn’t realise when his tone shifted or when he felt the anger rise up within him.
All she had said was, “It’s not your fault; I know you are going to do better.“ That’s all he let her get out before he exploded.
“I honestly don’t remember asking for your opinion. God, you are so pathetic sometimes, always searching for attention from anyone who spares a glance at you. It’s all your fault; you think it’s funny to come into my room and give me glances right before a race. God, why are you so fucking stupid?"
“Maybe this is why your sister will always be better than you; your parents probably saw that, and so does everyone else when they see you and her together. Look at her; she’s a driver, and look at you sneaking into a driver's room, offering yourself to him all for what?? bloody attention?? Get out. I don’t want to see you anymore. All you’ve done is clutter my brain.”
Y/N walked out of his room with hot tears running down her face, her face all red, and a pounding headache. But what was worse than all that pain combined was the pain running through her heart; it genuinely felt like her heart was snapped into two and stepped on by a herd of elephants.
She didn’t know why he snapped at her; all she wanted was to help him. Everything he said made her fall into a spiralling downfall. All the work she’s done to keep her insecurities hidden and healed, Lando’s words ripped them apart and left them burning red and raw.
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xdacted · 13 days
Text
twenty seconds or twenty years?
Pairing: Reader x Max Verstappen
Warnings: fluff, Regency! Au, period-typical sexism
Word Count: 4,359
Status: Completed
Max was never one for balls or parties. 
The entirety of the social season felt bothersome, a chore. His mother, however, found his resistance to society a mere ‘bout’, a passing stinge, thinking he simply had yet to stumble across the right debutante. As such, she insisted upon his attendance at any and all gatherings, responding to invitations on his behalf. 
He was expected at nearly every event until June. 
Max was previously able to busy himself with the workings of business affairs, often called to distant corners of the nation just as the season neared, but his mother had enough of his excuses. When she stomped into his office, an invitation in hand, slamming it upon his desk, he was unable to escape. 
“You will attend,” She seethed, “If you are to take the title from your father, you must find a wife.”
Attend he did, rocking along in a carriage to the first ball of the season. A rather large event, or so Victoria had said, hosted by the Russel family. 
The estate grew closer, emerging from the darkness with twinkling lights. The strong structure sat surrounded by lush grass and proud trees, gently swaying in the evening wind. Max fought the growing knot of dread that formed in the pit of his stomach, twisting uncomfortably in his seat. He wished for nothing more than to pass the evening as a mere shadow, lost to the crowd, unnoticed. 
The carriage slowed to a stop and Max was slow to descend, gingerly stepping down and straightening his tailcoat. He dismissed his driver with a nod, suppressing the urge to clammer back within the confines of the carriage. He was met with the grandeur of the Russel estate, staggering pillars wrapped in foliage, imposing walls that dripped into magnificent window frames, and adorned with intricate moldings. 
It was a sight to beyond, but Max could hardly stand it. 
The sounds of others pulling onto the gravel behind him prompted him to slip through a lingering horde of guests and the entrance. The large doors opened to a spacious foyer, marble floors drenched in the warm chandelier light. 
Max expected nothing less from the Russels, an honorable family attached to an impeachable name and title. He attended school with the youngest son, George, and hoped to find him before he was lost to the throng of other partygoers. Finding his fellow bachelors was the only source of solace Max found at such events. Many were his past schoolmates or current business partners, but more so, they were his friends. 
If he were to suffer, he saw no reason why he needed to do so alone. 
As if hearing his plea, a tall figure entered his field of vision. 
“Verstappen!” A voice behind him exclaimed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 
He turned, the tension easing in his shoulders, “Russel.”
George stared at him, an indiscernible look on his face, “I must admit, I was quite surprised to hear that you would be attending tonight. I thought you, of us all, a perpetual bachelor.”
The comment was made in jest, but Max could not deny the truth of his words. Though he did not hold as infamous a reputation as some, Max was regarded as Unmatchable,  unrelenting in his desire to never marry or sire children. 
As far as he was concerned, his father’s wicked bloodline would die with him. 
Max could only shrug, scooping a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, “ I assure you, old friend, it was far from my idea.”
It was my mother's, the thought went unsaid, but Max was sure George knew well enough. His mother worried for him. She only wished to see him happy, Max wished she would drop the marriage matter entirely. 
“I see,” George muttered, running a hand across his chin, a moment of silence passed between them. 
Then, as chipper as ever, he exclaimed, “Well, here is to the rotten luck of some.”
With a snort, Max raised his glass before bringing it to his lips. Their banter was a long-established one, forged within the walls of preparatory academy and later enforced at university. 
Max opened his mouth to inquire about their fellow bachelors, but was interrupted by two ladies making their way to him, fans held up to their faces. He was locked into a conversation before he could plan his escape. Though Max was grateful for George’s company, the sight of two of the ton’s most eligible bachelors detached from a group of their own welcomed the yapping hordes of women and mothers. They were soon drowning in a sea of fabrics and sparkling jewels, unable to do more than listen as accomplishments were rattled off and dance cards were shoved in their faces. 
Max wished they would attach themselves to truly interested bachelors, of which there were plenty, but he suspected it was not so much them as it was their lineage. The other had always been incredibly popular, but Max, well, he knew of the rumors. 
Max Verstappen, heir to the Duke of Hasselt, is a great beast - a monster, like his father. Though his stormy demeanor deterred many, the alluring promise of a dukedom attracted far more than his attitude could ward off. 
Just as the voices began to melt into one, George nudged Max with his shoulder, “Thank you, ladies, but we must take our leave. We are required elsewhere.”
Their protests were almost immediate, pushing themselves closer to the bachelors, fluttering eyes and pouted lips directed towards them. 
Truly, Max would have more sympathy if he would be given more space. 
“Thank you,” He said, voice coming out far firmer than he meant, “But we should be going now.”
They were quick to silence, shuffling apart to clear a small opening, and Max was quicker to take it. He could hardly breathe amongst the clouds of perfume, nose burning with the assaulting scents, and was grateful for their escape. 
“You looked as if you might die,” George muttered, guiding them to a small clearing by the dancefloor, “Were they truly so appalling?”
Max opened his mouth to answer, but no words found themselves tumbling out. It was not as if he were repulsed by the idea of a woman, or even of marriage, but the unhappiness he witnessed with his parents’ marriage was something he was unable to shake. His mother had been miserable, chained to a Verstappen man with no option but to provide him with the children he demanded. 
Max could never, in good consciousness, reward that with the succession of the Verstappen line. 
They arrived at the clearing before he could gather his thoughts. There, nursing glasses and wearing knowing smiles, stood Viscount Riccardo, son of Viscount Norris, and the Earl of Monte-Carlo. 
A few of his oldest friends. 
“Gentlemen!”
The men tipped their heads in respect but maintained their smirks. 
“Never thought I would live to see the day,” Daniel began, “Max Verstappen at a party.”
“I rather think it was not his idea, was it?” Charles laughed, looking over at Lando who watched on with an ill-concealed smile. 
“No,” Max sighed with a roll of his eyes, “It was not.”
Laughter erupted from the bachelors, George clapping another hand down upon Max’s shoulder. Their voices were hidden from passersby by the constant flow of music. 
“Regardless,” Lando said, wiping a tear from his eye, “Perhaps a wife could be best.”
“How so?”
“Well,” He gestured to the room, clusters of women craning their necks to gaze at them, “If you were married, there would be no reason to attend these parties. You would have your solitude.”
“It is not solitude I desire,” Max muttered, running a hand through his hair.
He could hardly imagine a worse fate, but it was one he was willing to fall into. 
“Then what do you desire, dear friend?” Daniel quipped, casting him a sideways glance. 
Max could give no response, the words a thick ball in his throat, he could only push his nose into his glass. The topic was quickly dropped and conversation floated between them easily, even as they were picked off to catch a dance or two. Still, they were left to relative peace. Approaching a pair or lone bachelor was simple, it was encouraged. But, to find yourself in front of a group, was seen as distasteful, and desperate. 
Regardless, the room only continued to fill, guests spilling into other parts of the estate, but with it, so did the knot in Max’s stomach. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, fingers nervously tapping upon a nearby table. 
Parties presented the unknown, and Max had tried desperately to stay far from it - the thought frightened him more than he would ever admit aloud. Within the unknown, was love. 
Love felt completely foreign, a thing of fiction or myth, a sentiment that filled the pages of novels and fairy tales. Max was told that his mother and father did love each other, once. To present, however, that affection had long been lost. 
Max had more than one idea as to why. 
His father was a petulant man, looking to command others through fear, not respect. He was well regarded in the eyes of His Majesty, but ill in the eyes of the Ton. He was cold and selfish and, despite his prayers, Max’s father. Though Max had made every attempt to differ himself, it seemed that he was his father’s son. 
And he always would be. 
“-stappen…Verstappen…Max!”
The sound of his name yanked him from his thoughts. 
“...yes?”
Charles looked over at him, eyebrows furrowed with worry, “Is something the matter? I called your name, but…”
Max shook his head, waving a dismissive hand, “I am quite alright, I apologize. I was merely lost in the lights.”
Still, the look remained. 
“Honestly, Charles,” He placed a hand on the other’s shoulder, “I am fine.”
Max turned away from him before he could utter anything else, bringing his hand back to his side. His eyes swept over the dance floor, hoping to calm his nerves in the senselessness of the evening. Both Lando and Daniel had taken to the floor, pulling themselves towards their partners. They stepped to the music, the quartet hidden away in the balcony. A few paces over, was George. Accompanying his mother on a round of the room, and receiving praise for a successful opening to the season no doubt. 
The room was lively, couples turning in time and chatting coyly. Though it was not his preferred evening, he could see the appeal of such parties. 
He felt rather foolish. 
His eyes moved over the entrance, the trickle of people slowing, most finding themselves huddled around the dancefloor. Then, just as he was about to pull his gaze from the doors, something - or rather someone - caught his eye. 
A woman, drenched in the candlelight, moving through the crowd of people. Her entrance was met with no fanfare or buzz, but he was entranced. If no one had taken notice of her yet, how foolish they must be. 
She was the most gorgeous creature to exist. 
A gentle smile on perfect lips, a tendril of hair curling over her forehead, the softest hint of rouge dusted across her cheeks - Max was caught. He was caught within the lace of her dress, within the glimmer of her jewelry, within the silk of her gloves. He was caught and never wished to be released from her grasp. 
She was beautiful, extraordinarily so - blindingly so. 
She was unlike any other woman he had ever seen, working her way through greetings, and rounding the room with her chaperone. 
“Do you -” He forced himself to swallow, throat suddenly tight, “Do you know who that is?”
Charles nodded, relaying to Max her name and family, “I believe this is her first season. She was, according to my mother, a great success at the presentation to the queen.”
Max could see exactly why, a hand curled around the arm of her chaperone, dance card dangling from her wrist - each step was taken with purpose, with conviction. She was no simpering debutante, she was a lady commanding the attention of the room. Her strength was in her grace. 
He watched as George and his mother approached her, she dropped into a low curtsy, rising again with her gentle smile. They were too far to make out the words they spoke, but Max yearned to know. He yearned to hear her voice, to be near her, to breathe her air.
“Has she caught your eye, old friend?”
For the first time, Max broke his start, turning to glare at Charles. 
“Do not bother denying it,” He laughed, patting Max’s arm, “Ask her to dance.”
Perhaps, he dared, just for tonight. 
He glanced back over to her, her eyes moving across the room before finding him. He was sure he forgot to breathe, her gaze piercing through him. 
The thought crossed his mind. He could take her to dance, it would hardly mean a thing, but he was unsure if he would survive it. If he could withstand the heat of her gaze, the feeling of her hands within his own. 
Max never thought himself a weak man. 
He pulled himself away, “No,” he cleared his throat, adjusting his collar, “I - I - it would be best if I refrain.”
Perhaps, he was. 
He hadn’t the slightest clue what was wrong with him, but he could not possibly give himself the chance to find out, most definitely not with her. Granted, he hadn’t attended as many parties as Charles or Daniel, but he was no neophyte. Such a reaction was ridiculous, he had only learned her name, and he could not dismantle his entire life’s purpose for a woman he had only just met. 
Could he?
A look of curiosity crawled across Charles’ face once more, and this time Max feared he would be forced to hear the question that awaited him, but, as if by magic, George reappeared before them. 
“Whatever is the matter with him?” He teased, sipping from his champagne glass. 
“I think our dear friend is -”
“I am not.” 
“Oh,” George smiled, an evil thing, “I think you are.”
Max felt his face flush, a dreadful heat racing down his spine. He reached over, snatching a lute of champagne from a passing tray, his mouth felt incredibly dry. 
“I suggest you make haste, friend,” George muttered, turning to take in the dancefloor. It was filled with bodies, but Max was only concerned with one. 
She stood alongside other ladies, chatting idly before a gentleman approached. Max recognized him as a second son with little to offer, the gentleman bowed deeply offering his hand to her. She seemed to draw the same conclusion, the smallest lapse of hesitation passing over her before placing her hand in his. He turned them onto the dancefloor. 
Max was unable to answer, attention locked onto her as she danced, the music beginning behind him. Her movement was graceful and perfect, lines straight and steady. 
“You may have found your bride yet,” Charles sighed, resting his hands upon his hips, “But you will lose her if you do not take action.”
“She is not mine to have,” Max said, placing his glass down harsher than necessary, “Perhaps it is time I take my leave.”
“I did not mean -”
“No,” George stepped forward, “You never come out to these parties, stay.”
“I really should -”
“Stay.”
He looked towards his friend, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t ever revealed his reasoning behind his continued bachelorhood, but he knew his friends recognized it as something far deeper. It was simply not in their nature to divulge such feelings. 
Wordlessly, he plucked another glass from a tray and downed its contents. Quite boorish, but the slight burn helped soothe the pounding of his heart. It was far from his favorite alcohol, but it was all accepted for such parties. The stronger brandy was hidden away in the smoking lounges, and Max hardly entered those. 
“Excellent!” George cheered. 
Eventually, Lando and Daniel returned, with George departing to greet more guests. 
Despite not being the heir, George made himself ever-useful. He was often a source of great knowledge or companionship - a dutiful host too. 
“I cannot believe it…” Lando mumbled, fixing a crease in his coat, with a scowl. 
“What?”
“Lord Ambrose,” He nearly sneered, “He insists on filling up dance cards before other gentlemen can, believing it to be a ‘claim’ upon the ladies.”
Charles shuddered, “He is a brute.”
“He is a cheat,” Lando pressed, “There are open bookings at the club with no sight of a check.”
“He is an Earl,” Daniel reminded, placing his glass between Charles and Max, “To be his wife is to have security.”
“But what of love?” Charles questioned indignantly, “What of proper courtship? Of a love match?”
“What of it?” Max’s words left him before he was able to keep them back. 
“Well,” Charles turned to the dance floor, gesturing with his glass to her, “Would you court her? Or would you wish that she marry a man like Ambrose for security?” He nearly spat the word. 
“It is much more complex than that,” Max said, finding her once more in the crowd. 
She returned his gaze in an instant as if she could sense him, offering him a small smile. His heart began to pound once more. 
“Women are forced to rely on the security of a name,” He tried to busy himself with his words, “A name that can only come from marriage, a name only a man can provide. They are not left with much choice.”
Charles seemed to think. He would never truly understand, as he had no sisters, but Max did. He remembers Victoria’s first season with burning clarity, how terribly nervous she had been. Her entire life and personality were boiled down to a singular match. And once she did marry, she was removed from their family, excised, and replanted. 
Max hated it. 
“Yes,” Charles whispered, his voice nearly lost to the swell of the music, “I - I suppose you are right…”
A bubble of pleasant silence grew over them, shrouded by the music as it drew to a close. Max watched as the gentleman returned her to the other ladies, offering another deep bow before stepping away. The ladies curled around her in an instant, their eyes alight with wonder. There was a soft flush to her cheeks, but she still looked breathtaking, fanning herself gently with a hand. 
Something grew within his stomach, only it was not dread, it was something light.
“Oh, bother,” Lando hissed, eyes squirting just beyond the group of ladies. 
“What is it?”
“There he is,” He jerked his head, something quite unlike him, “And dare I say he is -”
He was approaching her, coming upon the smallest break within the ladies’ bodies and greeting them with a hungry smile. Max’s legs were moving before he could will himself to stay put. Lord Ambrose was looking around the ladies, leaning far closer to them than necessary. 
Max was cutting through the crowd, sidestepping other partygoers and ignoring the calls of his name. Anger flared within him, perhaps it was more disgust, at Amrbose’s blatant disregard for their honor. 
Of all the bachelors, he had the most notorious of reputations. Countless mistresses and bastards littered his name, but the depth of his pockets made it a mere speck upon his title. She was well within her rights to select any man she pleased, and Max could never tell her any different, but he would not allow her honor to tarnish - any other gentlemen, just not him. 
“I hope I am not interrupting,” Max interjected, inserting himself between her and Lord Ambrose, “But I was wished to ask if,” He turned to face her, heart pounding, “I may have your next dance?”
“You are interrupting, Verstappen, as I was about -”
Her eyes went aglow with something akin to relief and she placed her hand in his, tightening around him, “Of course, I would be honored.”
The murmurs from the surrounding ladies were immediate, covering their mouths with dazzling fans, but there was nothing to hide their amazement. The beast out to dance, how unlikely. He held his arm out for her, rounding the expanse of the dance floor as they awaited the music.
“I must apologize if - if I overstepped,” He sighed as they settled away from earshot, “I did not mean to make it seem as if you needed my saving.”
“Your apology is accepted,” She smiled up at him, placing a gloved hand upon his shoulder, and the other resting gently within his grasp, “But, regardless of how unnecessary it may have been, I am quite grateful.”
“Though I must admit, Mr. Verstappen,” The music queued up behind them, a gentle melody of strings, “I was under the impression you had no interest in dancing.”
Her words were a double-edged sword and Max could not deny. 
“I, typically, do not,” He swallowed thickly, unable to withhold the truth with her before him, “But for you, I suspect there are many exceptions to be had yet.”
Her blush burned through her cheeks and to the tips of her ears, Max suppressed a chuckle. She was quick to recover, moving away from him with the first steps of the dance. It was a simple one, filled with a series of spins and skips. Despite his reluctance, he was still a member of high society. His education had included such social niceties, though he never thought he would put them to use. 
“You are a far better dancer than the rumors allow you credit for.”
“Are you one to listen to rumors?”
“Only when they make such a man to be a beast,” She looked at him through her eyelashes, though it was not coy. There was nothing demure about her gaze, it was striking. 
It was as if she wished to see into the very depths of his soul, to know all of his secrets and deepest desires. 
And Max, the great fool he is, would gladly allow her. 
He spun her in time with the music, guiding her by the waist, before pulling her near him once more. This close, he was able to see her more clearly. The shape of her eyes, the slope of her nose, the roundness of her face - her beauty knew no bounds. The very dress she wore, a mere cloth of elaborate stitching, seemed to be one with her body, made for her. 
He supposes it was, but so many debutants attempted to hide their nervousness behind frilly clothing and blinding jewels. She, however, seemed to command the very fabric on her skin. 
“Is there something the matter, My lord?”
Her voice shook him from his thoughts, but there was a knowing look in her eye. 
“No, no, I apologize,” He stepped behind her, reaching for her hand, “And I am not Lord, not - not yet.”
“Many men would jump at the chance to claim a title that is not theirs,” She huffed, unable to hide the roll of her eyes. 
“Well,” Max found both her hands, lifting them above their heads before tracing a hand down her spine to the small of her back, “I am not most men.”
She sucked in a sharp breath at his touch, and when he went to remove his hand, she leaned into it, “No, I suppose you are not.”
The air between them was electric, thick with unspoken desire. There was much to say, much to do, but Max only planned to keep her from Ambrose, not the entirety of the marriage mart. 
He straightened once more, clearing his throat, “My - my mother was incredibly involved in our upbringing. I learned a myriad of things my fellow bachelors did not.”
She seemed to think for a moment, cocking her head to the side, “Like…sewing?”
“...Yes,” He sighed, spinning them around, “But she said it was more with my unruly desire to be the best at…well, everything.”
His words pulled a laugh from her lips. It was not gentle nor polite, her laughter was bright and loud, pulling the attention of a few other dancers, but Max could not bring himself to care. He adored it. 
He adored her. 
“I am quite the same,” She mused, “I cannot stand to lose.”
Max smiled before he could stop himself, “Neither can I.”
He walked himself around her, holding his right hand to her waist and the other to her opposite hand. They locked eyes, Max’s blood rushing to his ears. The shy smile she offered him from across the room melted into a genuine smile, larger than the former. 
Far more beautiful. 
The music ended with a soft chord, the floor breaking apart to clap. Max slowly moved from her, unable to fight the need any longer, his eyes still trained on hers. They clapped, but the moment the applause died down, he took her hand in his. The walk back to the group was nearly a crawl. 
He did not wish to leave her side. 
They arrived sooner than he wished, but the words came just as quickly. 
“May -” He nearly forgot himself, “May I call upon you? Perhaps…tomorrow?”
“Yes,” She breathed, still holding onto his hand, “I would like that very much.”
He looked down at their hands and waited for her to pull back from him. She did with a blush moving across her cheeks, and Max was unable to do anything but return it. 
He felt like a boy, with his heart thundering within his chest, but - they locked eyes once more, the infinite land of understanding between them, surrounding them - nothing could ever feel more right. 
_____________________
A/N:This work has been cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to request fics about any of the drivers <3
also, yes, there are geographical inaccuracies, but let's all just have fun and ignore them kay??? and if you guys like this and want me to continue this with the rest of the drivers, let me know
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