#God he's got expensive hobbies... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charliemwrites · 4 months

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Mafia!Price warm up because I am… so tired. I’ve had back-to-back events the last few days and ya bitch canNOT hang. So, while I rehydrate and wait for caffeine to work it’s magic, here’s this:

Part 1 here

Mr. Price is the best boss you’ve ever had. He’s straightforward and blunt, but unfalteringly courteous. Likes things a certain way — his own way — but that’s nothing you’re unfamiliar with from rich men responsible for billions. At very least, he seems to respect when you challenge him.

“We’ve always done records this way,” he says.

“Yes, sir,” you answer serenely, “but that was before you had me.”

He stares you down and you beam right back, tablet balanced on your forearm. One beat, two. In the corner of your eye, you see Gaz shift. You tilt your head at your boss.

He sits back in his big office chair, thumb swiping over his index and middle fingers. A gesture you’ve been mentally cataloguing as “contemplative” — perhaps deciding if he’s annoyed or amused. You don’t let yourself get nervous seeing it; you’re good at your job and you know it. He’s going to know it too, by god.

“And what do you have to do with it, luv?”

Your smile stretches wider as you take that as an invitation to round his desk. He turns and shifts a bit to make room for you, eyebrows ticking up as you set a neatly paper-clipped report in front of him, highlighted for convenience.

“See here?” You point at one section, a list of finance records. “Inconsistencies that the accountants took two months to notice. Two!”

He grunts as you set it aside, face up, for further perusal and then show him the next set. Different highlighter (and a smiley face in the corner).

“And look here, doing it this way, we noticed the discrepancies within a week,” you explain.

He picks up the page, eyes scanning over it thoroughly before setting it down. Taps his index finger over the discrepancy (circled in bright red) twice.

“Would you happen to have the account — ah, thank you.”

You hum, smoothing the sticky note (hot pink, shaped like a heart) onto the page. “So what do you think, sir?”

He runs a hand down his face, palm rasping over his beard. But there is a grateful note to his gaze as he glances at you.

“We’ll be doing it this way from now on, then.”

“Thrilling, sir. I’ll send out a memo.”

He waves you off, frown already forming on his face. You politely leave his office, stop by the break room to make a fresh cup of tea (a dollop of cream only, no sugar) and knock on the closed door. It’s Gaz that opens it.

“For the boss,” you say. “Before heads start rolling.”

“You’re a doll,” he breathes, accepting the cup and slipping back inside.

You happily toddle back to your desk and begin calling appointment confirmations. You’ve got about a million emails and a hundred calls to make.

—

Working for Price also comes with some… eccentricities. For one, you have a driver now.

Usually Farah, sometimes her partner Alex. On the rare occasion it’s Gaz. They always usher you into the backseat. On rainy days (so, most days in the UK) they hold an umbrella over your head while you scurry into the luxury leather interior of whatever stupidly expensive ride you’re taking.

That was a non-negotiable when you and Mr. Price discussed the details of your employment contract with him. Something about safety…? You feel silly being driven to work as an assistant, but it was your first encounter with the Steel Gaze of Decision and it was unfortunately effective.

Not that you mind the rides! All three of your usual drivers are wonderful. So friendly and chatty. You love hearing about Alex’s niece and Farah’s hobbies, Gaz’s little “spats” with Soap. You spoil them with extra treats from whatever bakery you make them stop at for morning breakfast. (Always local, you love supporting small businesses and strong arm Price into doing so as well).

There’s the gun as well. You’ve only seen it once or twice, always discreetly hidden under his suit jacket. A shoulder holster, all black. Pretend that you don’t see it because… well, you’re not entirely sure it’s legal and you’d rather live in the blissful cloud of plausible deniability.

And speaking of — there’s his bodyguard. To be fair, bodyguards aren’t a new or weird presence with your bosses. Expensive men, they need protection. Ghost is a different kind though.

He always covers the lower half of his face — actually, he’s covered head to toe. Usually in black, sometimes with little skeleton or skull motifs. And he’s fucking big, which is saying something because Mr. Price isn’t a small man either.

Ghost hardly interacts with you, but he’s unfailingly polite when he does. Not talkative, but he holds doors for you, has walked you down to the car. Even once attitude-checked a guest that decided to be rude to you. Didn’t even say anything, just walked into the guy’s personal bubble and stared him down until he subsided. Then he turned, gave you a nod, and you squeezed his arm before toddling off to let Price know his appointment had arrived.

All around the vibes in the office are pleasant, if sometimes stuffy. A little odd. All of his employees are polite if not kind to you, and Price himself is a fair and reasonable man — at least with you.

(The first time you heard him raise his voice through the closed office door nearly scared the daylights out of you. He always uses a low, even tone when speaking to you, so to hear his voice booming like that was something of a shock. Even more shocking was when he opened the door — damn near throwing his “guest” out — before turning to you.

“Call Farah when you have a mo’, would you?” He asked, calm as you please.

You blinked, still having war flashbacks of your last boss. “Yes, sir.”

“Cheers, luv.”)

There’s also the “field trips” as you call them.

Mr. Price is something of a very “hands on” businessman (“micromanager” you tease when he’s in a good mood) who has a hand in several industries. One of them is shipping. Which means that sometimes you find yourself standing beside him in warehouses or at loading docks. And of course you have to go, you’re his assistant! You take meeting notes, provide information or report details. Basically act as his second brain while he reams out idiots or organizes plans.

You suck it up, but you rather hate the smell of low tide. And the occasional gusts of blood on the sea breeze from fishermen gutting their catches. Price catches you looking ill once or twice and at least makes an effort to keep things short after that.

“Poor thing,” Soap teases when you’re in the back of the car, fussing at your wind-swept hair. “Get a bit blown, did you?”

“MacTavish,” Price snaps.

That’s the other thing. Even the slightest hint of suggestive or inappropriate words at your expense are met with firm, almost harsh, reprimand from your boss. It does wonders for you nerves and your respect for him.

“Wish I’d known we were going to the docks,” you sigh, carefully picking at pins to fix your hair. “I would have used more hairspray.”

“Thought I told you?” Price says.

“No, sir, you did not,” you answer, long-suffering. “You know you can put it into the scheduling app, right?”

He blinks. “Scheduling app.”

You blink back at him. “Oh, dear. Here, look at this.”

You spend the entire ride back to the office showing him how your scheduling software works so that you don’t have to deal with any more surprise dock visits.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #mafia!au #mafia boss price #mafia!price #assistant reader #oddly wholesome for a mafia au

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year

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[The results of the poll came in, thenk you for voting! :]. Fem reader. You live in a house for this one. Sorry for the wait, it got longer than anticipated (4.7k).]

TW: Dubious consent (reader is somewhat scared); Altered states of mind; Heat/Rut.

It's the fifth time you've been dumped into this rat's nest today.

Breg is in heat, or rather, the earlier days of such.

You knew trouble was coming when you found the breeder laying on the kitchen tiles this morning, an overheated and overly sweaty body trying desperately to cool itself on freezing ceramic. He had panted like a dog under the blaze of a Summer evening and barely noticed your presence before excusing himself to make undignified noises in the bathroom. Showering, arguing with himself, jerking off? You didn't know, and you didn't care- You just wanted to eat something before any of this madness really kickstarted.

As you shoved toast in your mouth, slowly but definitely not calmly, you got to see the monster stress himself out, walking between rooms with various items in hand. It was almost funny, if you didn't know exactly what was coming. When his rut starts, Breg always behaves like a bear who forgot to stock food before hibernating. Oh but he didn't forget anything, the cabinets are full, and he learned to buy instant meals for you after the first couple of heats where you tried to explain to his fried brain that you can't just eat dead animals he plops in front of you. Nonetheless, you got to see him strip the couch of its cushions, struggle with dragging your mattress into a corner, fetching all the spare sheets, coats, towels and blankets he could find- For fuck's sake, he ripped the curtains off this time.

All to make a padded, crowded mess of your bedroom. It's always the bedroom with him, it smells like the two of you, so it does make sense, you bitterly suppose... You'd rather this than the uncomfortable bathroom.

You barely got to finish your coffee before a clammy, darkened hand had grasped your arm and you were not so gently tugged into the bedroom, to "evaluate" the mess your eccentric (putting it criminally lightly) boyfriend had made. Having gone through the motions of this charade more than once, you already knew the correct steps to make sure everything went well. Turning towards the muddled breeder, you kissed him and complimented his skills, calling the crime against your sanity he had just committed beautiful before physically stepping into it and sitting down.

Predictably, Breg let out an elated trill from deep within his throat and forced you to lie down, tangling you in a mess of warm fabrics before slotting himself above you protectively. Heavy as he is, the monster's weight was crushing, although you managed to nudge him aside when he dozed off above you. In this phase of his rut, you're not really sure if he's going to try to fuck you or just hold you and fall asleep, so there's some leeway to roam if you're sneaky about it.

It was when you were trapped under the monster's cocoon, sweating yourself into an early grave, that the doorbell rang and you realized something horrific.

You have a package outside.

God fucking damn it.

You were usually so careful with timing things perfectly, having the days where Breg was likely to start a heat jotted down in bright red ink on your calendar so that you'd never make plans for those days. You went as far as to orient a lot of your work life around his cycle, which is annoying, but at the very least possible. To think you were stupid enough to order something and not even care to check the estimated delivery date is pathetic. Maybe you did see it- But it didn't click in your brain what those days were.

Well shit, you had thought at the time, I can't just let it sit there.

And you were right. It was an expensive purchase. Brand new equipment, high-value tech for one of your favorite hobbies. It had been a costly sacrifice, and the specs were a rare find. The package itself isn't small enough to pass by unnoticed, you know one of your scummy neighbors can see if it they look twice at your doorstep. It could be stolen! It will be, if you don't fetch it eventually.

You had tried to stay still, knowing the monster in heat wouldn't take kindly to any perceived "escape attempts", but it was nerve-wracking. You're sure that package will be taken away if you don't get it fast. You can't lose it, can't lose all that money, that effort.

Your first attempt was a blunder, having moved too fast and woken Breg before you could even make it out the bedroom. By the second, you simply got unlucky and he woke by himself, fetching you back in a panic. On the third, you could spot signs of irritation, having been tossed to the nest none too gently and snarled at, fondled and groped and ground at until he had successfully put a gross mark on you. You'll admit the fourth incident was more of an attempt to get his musk off you than a dash for the package, but it got you barked at nonetheless, caught by the living room while Breg tried to slur out warnings, shaking you, hand around your neck while you were lead back into the bedroom. You know you hit a nerve with the fifth because his face disfigured for a moment.

But you can't give up.

This is too important to you. He can't understand it, but you need that fucking thing inside your home.

That's why you're up again, having weaseled out of his clumsy trap of coats. It's impressive he was coherent enough to use the sleeves to tie knots around you, but that's about where his expertise ends in this precarious state. You've played it safer this time, letting the breeder calm down, letting him tongue-bathe you -Gross- Feed you, let him fuck your thighs even. All just so his hormonal brain can forget you even tried to step out the nest. He's sleeping soundly, but you go through the effort of putting a shirt you recently wore next to the monster, hopefully to keep him lulled.

Breg shifts in his sleep, picking up on the scent and making weird murmurs before clutching at the fabric- As if it were you there. Almost cute, if not for the fact that you're really stressed.

Instead of walking across the house, you crawl, slow and measured to make sure not even the sound of your breathing could rise Breg. There's furniture askew, remotes and decorations on the floor from the previous times he fetched you in a hurry. Although you do your best to muffle your nerves, your arms shake with anxiety. Anything could make him stir awake, you can't ever run away from him, he could hurt you.

Perhaps it's because you're sheltered, or maybe you have too much faith in the breeder, you could just be stupid- But you weigh those odds against the pain of losing your expensive purchase and, in the end, decided you'd sooner twist an ankle than let it get stolen by a filthy porch pirate.

Reaching the front door is a milestone you smile brightly at. The problem comes when you glance at the keys. They'll jingle if you're not careful, the front door thankfully never creaks, but you know for a fact it makes a distinct click when it unlocks. Kneeling, arm outstretched, fingertips almost grazing the keys, you hesitate.

Should you...?

Maybe you should head back. Pretend you never left, snuggle up to him and just give it up for today. But then, this is only just the beginning, his instincts are only going to get worse from here on out. If you can't reach the package today, then it's pointless to even try your luck the following days! Right, this is no time to falter, you need to get it now.

With newfound resolve, an inkling of it at least, you hold the keys with both hands. One to make sure the others don't clink and clank, the other doing the actual turning. Slow like molasses, calculated, even the way you inhale and exhale is measured. On the last turn, you apply pressure and keep the grip on the key as firm as you can, trying to nudge the lock open gently enough to avoid that telltale click. Sucess! Soundlessly, you feel the door move, fully unlocked.

Yes!

The hardest part is over. Removing the keys from the door, you take great care when depositing them on the carpet. Specifically the carpet, to muffle any sort of faint jingling.

The weather outside is nice, but you're too preoccupied to consider something as simple as that. No, your eyes are locked onto your prize. There, only a couple of feet away, your package! Untouched, neatly arranged, perfectly fine as it should be. You nearly cry in relief, crawling outside, beyond caring if any of your neighbors see you like this- A disheveled, stinky mess wearing only a top and casual shorts on all fours.

When your hands wrap around the cardboard, it feels as if all is well in the world. You made it. You secured your purchase. You don't have to worry about anything else anymore, you can just head inside and-

VROOM

A car zooms past the street. You hear it before you see it pass. At first, you don't even think about it. After all, what could be meaningful about a stranger driving by in a hurry, right?

And then you realize your "boyfriend" is in a hypersensitive state with notoriously augmented hearing.

Ah.

Once more, you hear it before you see it.

A jarring thump thump thump THUMP. And a shiver crawls up your spine hard enough to make you freeze. Oh God. Clutching the stupid cardboard box like a lifeline, you glance upwards, towards the doorway, seeing none other than who you dread the most right now. Breg.

He's positively fuming. You're surprised there isn't literal steam coming off his body. Hunched, tense, but it's not the size of him that scares you. It's his face. His distorted, stretched out maw- Fully extended, gums visible, pushing those horrid teeth outward as he drools on the ground. You know, in spite of his lack of visible eyes, that Breg is glaring daggers at you, specifically.

A steady hissing fills your ears and you know it's over. You know you fucked up- Not directly, but you did. Because you left the door wide open and didn't account for the noise. You're a fool. The first thing your instincts tell you to do is rise and prepare to sprint, but the moment you sit straighter, Breg releases a chilling snarl, so you opt to fold further into yourself and remain utterly catatonic. Can he understand you still, through the haze of hormones? Would he grasp it if you apologized? Should you speak at all?

The choice is made for you.

You close your eyes the moment the ground shakes with his sprinting, choking on the collar of your shirt as you're physically dragged by it and picked up by the breeder. Where before Breg's hold had been more protective than anything, it's now oppressive, squeezing you to his chest, claws denting your meat. The proximity allows you to feel the bizarre bumps on his raised skin, frigid, yet coated by steaming sweat drops. You don't open your eyes until you're airborne for a very short period, falling face-first on the musk-heavy nest.

Breg slams the door to the bedroom shut and pants harshly, landing a fist to the wall several times. Each pound makes you jump and tense, huddling into yourself with tears in your eyes. Oh God what if he's had enough? What if he does that to you?! He makes an ambiguous roar and seems to slam his own head on the wall, but it doesn't crack or chip the infrastructure like his hand did.

You wonder if he's giving himself a concussion on purpose, for your sake.

" B-Breg? " Scared, gawking eyes plead with the breeder stationed at the wall. You note the attempts he makes at steadying his breathing, fruitless, as his chest continues to heave dramatically. What the fuck is happening anymore.

" Whah... "

Oh. He's trying to speak. Usually, he can still do it in the first day or so, this looks like it's an especially intense rut, because of course it is. That's just your amazing luck shining through. You wait patiently for the monster to come up with something in between his slurring mumbles.

" What isss wrong with you?! "

" H- Huh? " His words and voice are distorted by the shape of his extended jaw, shifting his mouth and tongue to make the proper sounds of the language you both speak becomes a challenge.

" WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! " Breg bellows, turning around to face you properly. You resist the urge to crawl under the the mess of sheets and clothes.

" I- I just wanted to get the package. " You try, voice light and tone pleading, searching his face for any sort of recognition -A miracle epiphany that doesn't seem to be surfacing any moment soon- and finding nothing but growing confusion. Irritation.

" NO! " He shrieks, gesturing wildly as if you're the one missing an obvious point. " OUTSIDE. "

" Don't- Don't scream at me... "

He rolls his head, looking away, then back. " Outside- " He hisses, quieter at least. " Don't. Go. Out. "

It would just take one second. One second to get that box in and it would be over. Is it really that big of a sin? Breg starts moving upsettingly fast towards you, when an arm shoots out, you do what you usually have to when he's deep into his rut. Belly up, hands back, legs spread and neck bared. Good ol' trusty "please don't kill me".

It works.

The breeder's motions halt altogether and he seems to stare at you vapidly for a couple of static seconds. His jaw retracts a chunk, but his maw is still stretched, still that haunting grin. Good, he's distracted.

" ... You know you can't... Go outside. " He drools, to which you nod frantically. " Here is safe... Here is... "

You get to see the exact moment when hormones kill off just about any higher thought process in Breg. The monster shakes his head and crawls atop you, looking mildly bothered by the amount of clothes on your figure before lifting the hem of your shirt and burying his head underneath. Surprised, you can only giggle incredulously, feeling his humid hot breath fanning your stomach and chest. The breeder replies with an instinctual chirp and his breathing finally begins slowing down.

There, you think while slowly stroking his gross back, he's going to settle down, maybe hump a little and then fall asleep. Fool.

The monster stirs after a couple of comfortable moments, muttering something incoherent. He stands much too quickly and begins tugging you up as well, expression creased with what you think might be worry.

" What- What are you doing? " His grip on your wrist is uncomfortable when he starts walking out of the bedroom.

He spends his entire ruts making sure you stay in this room, now he's pulling you out? Geez, how many brain cells did he fry this time?

He only starts speaking after you tap him a couple of times. " Need to move! " He hisses, like you're particularly dumb. " ... Another cave. "

Cave...? Oh, the house. Yes.

You try to stand your ground, but given he's holding onto such a delicate part of you, it's not a good idea to pull. If he dislocates or fractures your wrist while in heat, there's no telling when you'd be able to reach a hospital- You can't risk that damage.

" But what's wrong with this one? " Really, you don't see what's wrong about the house for him to be fussing. You only have a couple of night lights on, the place is warm, there's food, he made his nest, what's missing? Is he getting pickier for no reason now?

" Not safe enough! " You're led to the living room while Breg has his weird freak out fit, glancing at the front door.

He must have shut it as he dragged you in, at least that. Unfortunately, your delivery remains outside. Though, in hindsight, if anyone saw that little stunt between you and the irate breeder, there's a pretty good chance they won't be ballsy enough to come fetch it. You certainly wouldn't be.

When it seems the rutting monster is determined to actually go outside, you start offering minimal resistance. Anything could happen with Breg in that state out and about, he could maim someone, he could force you to God knows where, he could fuck you in the streets openly- The scandal would follow you forever. A thousand yard stare settles on your face.

" B- But I think it is? " You have no cards to play with when dealing with a monster in rut. How can you logically counter his points when he's not thinking logically at all?

" NO. " Finally, he releases your wrist, now pacing restlessly, claws dragging over his own arms. He's clearly distressed and angered, but you don't know how to calm him without seemingly making it worse.

" YOU'LL RUN. " The breeder pauses to snarl pointedly in your direction, returning to barely coherent mumbling and frantic pacing shortly after.

Ah. So that's why he thinks it's not safe. Granted, you know damn well you put yourself in this spot. Now you'll have to weasel out of it.

" I- I won't. " Your shaky, tiny voice is extremely convincing, surely. " I p-promise! It- It's alright. "

Breg stops clawing at his arms, mumbling halted, his pacing ends with the monster right in front of you. His looming, tense figure has you fixed on the spot like an ant. Part of you wants to start bawling for help, another desperately wishes to reach out and soothe him.

" You- You liar... " He seethes, glancing between you and the door as you sweat bullets. " You WILL run! I know you will! YOU'LL LEAVE ME- "

His volume startles you again, beneath the anger he's showing, beneath those drooling teeth waaay too close to your face, there's genuine panic in his tone. Almost wheezing for a second. You're momentarily reminded that it's not just you who's at peril here. When Breg gets really aggravated, the way his metabolism kicks up several notches has consequences for him as well. This isn't good for anyone, and in your blindsided excitement about your purchase, you completely forgot that your failed attempts have only been stressing his already overloaded organism out more. Suddenly, a wave of guilt crushes your spirit.

There's not much time to wallow in it, because you're being grabbed. The lack of reaction must have upset the breeder, who's darkened arms clutch your own. " YOU'LL LEAVE. I can't let you leave- Can't let you go- Mates can't escape- YOU NEED ME. " Each rise in intensity has him jostling you back and forth.

Ooh boy, this is not looking good.

You consider opening your mouth to say something, try to appease him by whatever means necessary, but given all of your attempts have failed so far, what's the use? There's got to be another way...

...

"You need me"... Hm, maybe it's not so hopeless.

Keeping your gaze focused on the breeder, you know trying to slip away from his grasp is useless, but your intent is to reach down enough to grasp the hem of your shorts, quietly shimmying the cloth down. At first, the breeder doesn't realize why you're squirming, growling in warning at your perceived attitude, until he has the wit to glance towards the movement, watching you drop the fabric to your ankles and step out of it. His gaze is wholly fixated on your pussylips, a string of drool oozing from the side of his face to the floor. This secret smirk spreads on your face at the state you have him in, feeling mildly flattered even if you know how volatile he is right now.

In an effort to distract the male just a bit more, you part your legs a little, hearing him very clearly snort grossly, inhaling. His grip lessens ever so slightly, and you take advantage of it to start edging your now tattered shirt off. He barely twitches when his arms drop, squatting on the ground like some frog as he edges closer to your pussy, about to stuff his face on it most likely. His members steadily poke out that engorged slit, already soaked in their own precum, more than ready for anything.

Summoning all the bravery you have to stick to your possibly not very bright plan, you tense on the spot, allowing him but one second of calm, before hauling ass. Your goal is not the outside, not at all, you're actually sprinting the way you came from, teeth grit with nerves.

Predictably, it's a very short dash, Breg darted after you not even a second later, hot on your tail enough to physically crash against you on the way inside the bedroom and effectively throwing you onto the nest. You're getting really tired of landing face-down on this thing... But it's exactly what you wanted. Because when the breeder looms over you, hips instinctively slotted against yours, his hand keeping your head still, you get to turn things on their head before he can bark at you.

Quickly, you bump your bare ass against his cocks, making sure to grind and sway like you're the one in heat. You can feel the startling temperature of them on your skin, spreading their slick and his scent on you in a way that makes shivers ripple through you. The movement apparently startles Breg's already muddled brain into stillness again, you can tell he's probably very confused, ping-ponging between irritation and delight.

" Hah, guess you caught me again... " You bullshit, arching your spine beneath the monster as much as you can and bumping harder against him. Breg shudders. " So, will you do something about it this time, or do I have to keep running until my mate fucks me hard? "

Please buy it please buy it holy shit-

There's a chuff above you, you're positive he understood the words perfectly when he makes an excited crooning trill that tapers off into a chirp. He pushes his dicks onto you in response and you know it worked flawlessly the moment he dips to lick from your neck upwards. Good, this is good. Not optimal, but better than getting tossed outside.

The key to making him forget about your stunts is to convince the breeder it was all a sort of "challenge", and to do such, you'll have to keep up this attitude. Sloppy rutting turns into pushing yourself onto him when Breg poorly lines one of his dribbling cocks against your pussy. Having been through this song and dance before, you don't let him get any ideas regarding his twin length, awkwardly reaching beneath you to grasp and gently stroke at whatever parts you could reach.

He's thrilled, but your taste of control is short-lived as soon as he can sheathe himself inside you. It's a stretch, lord knows it always is with him, but he's excited this time, ramming himself. If he wasn't leaking lubrication like a broken faucet, you probably would have gotten hurt. As is, you only scream in surprise, fisting the sheets and ripped curtains beneath you. He moans, low and loud, a cry of pure animal relief. And, perhaps to your chagrin, fulfills your request.

" Hhrk-! "

Not a single second of mercy is spared your way. Breg doesn't care to build you up, his goal is one thing and one thing only, to fuck his cocktease of a mate full of his hatchlings, a fruitless effort. Not that it's ever stopped him from trying, you often get the feeling he desperately thinks he can will a pregnancy into existence, even outside of heat.

The monster on top of you is fast and ruthless, all self-serving thrusts kissing deep into your cunt while his spare cock twitches and occasionally slaps against your mound. It's a far cry from how he usually behaves, obviously, but the novelty of getting the breath quite literally fucked out of you never seems to wear off. Thighs shaking, you can't muster the composure to buck against him very aptly, body wracked with intense waves of pleasurable heat every time the somewhat more pronounced ridges of his fattened girth drag on that spot -Oh, that little spot- That has you sobbing soundlessly. In reality, Breg isn't making any efforts to offer you much, if any, pleasure, but it'd be impossible not to brush against something nice every now and then with this pace. Being used like a favored, dirty little cocksock, all you can do is grit your teeth and try not to drool as much as the monster making a puddle of your neck and hair.

Apparently, Breg begins to get annoyed by the way you'll bounce forward a little too far for his tastes, rumbling. It's really not your fault there's so much horsepower behind those legs, but you'll admit you don't like getting delicious friction disrupted too much either. The monster readjusts, an arm snakes beneath to grab your neck, grip firm but not squeezing, the other captures your right hand under his, your thighs are nudged closer together to trap his unattended dick and finally- Bold teeth latch onto the skin on the back of your neck.

He's done this before, in controlled settings however. You don't think it's a particularly good idea to let Breg's currently sharpened teeth around your neck for long periods of time, so really, the faster he cums, the less danger you're in. It's difficult to think about much of anything when the rutting breeder's pace resumes, this time not as deep but fast enough to make your vision blur, the smack of skin on skin and frantic shared panting putting you in a trance. God, he fucking stinks like this, you can't escape the smell, ever, it's on you now. He growls and occasionally clips out short moans in response to your helpless flexing around his wet cock, surprising you with another chirp.

Ah, precisely. There's something you can use!

Knowing full well you've never been good at it, you cough to clear your throat before attempting, quite poorly, to imitate the sound. You do it twice for good measure, immediately rewarded with an enthusiastic, hard grind that lifts you ever so slightly off the nest while Breg makes a keening sound that melts into a more complex trill. Your eyes roll and you feel yourself cumming hard around him, grunting at the sudden pleasure. Fuck, how do you make that one? He clearly loves it, you have to at least try. Drunk on the afterglow of your orgasm, you let out a series of vaguely similar whistling clicks, not really sure what you're transmitting to the breeder, or caring really.

The monster's hold of your neck tightens enough to make you wince, though the vibrations of his muffled moaning are shamefully arousing as his next series of hard pounds nearly jostle the few contents of your stomach. You know he's cumming when claws dart to hold your hips perfectly still and his head drops on yours, braying out a shameless noise that devolves into harsh puffing and gasping. Naturally, the cock nestled between your now sticky thighs coats your front and the sheets in a stupid amount of pearly cum, making you whine at the feeling while your womb tries to accommodate as much of the other's load as possible- What it inevitably fails to hold having no choice but to ooze and squeeze out, dripping to your front as well.

Long moments pass, though the shaking of your legs only grows, causing Breg to flip you both on your sides before he ends up crushing you. it's gross, you're laying on a small pool of warm seed while he plugs you happily, glancing up to see him smile happily at you through the haze of hormones. Contented and calm, the ideal state. You don't struggle or react much when the male predictably reaches to start tongue-bathing your upper body, merely grimacing at the scent of excess saliva.

Just to make sure things are even and smoothed out between you, you turn slightly, placing a peck on that long neck and chastely licking him back. There's no way you're going to groom him in this gross state, but it appears to be rewarding enough, his tail swatting around violently.

" ... Angel. " He mumbles, head nuzzling yours lazily. " My angel... "

Crisis averted.

#Bregory #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #terato #terat0philliac #monsterfucker #not sfw #minors dni

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thestarfishinjootsoffice · 1 year

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slashers x child!reader who likes to take apart their toys to make little inventions/new toys

*dies* I didn't add Billy and stu because I'm so tired and have no inspiration

Slashers x child! Reader who rips other toys to built new ones.

Michael

You probably got old dolls from a few decades ago from Judith's old toys she had when she was a child or his.

Michael didn't care that much that you were destroying the toys until he saw you either only ripped a limb or a head.

He then came and saw you with a toy he never saw before when he recognised some parts and realised you built a new toy out of different toys.

He'll admire it like how he'll admire his "art works" after killing someone. The more weirder and creepier the more he'll like it. although he'll like any kind of invention you make.

When you ran out of toys he broke in a toy shop once and got as many as he could and gave them to you.

You got a whole shelf of your little inventions and he stares at it whenever you're gone and he has nothing to do.

Sinclair brothers

They got you either old toys of theirs (I hv no idea if they had toys as children) or toys around the town.

Bo was like 'why??' when you took apart your toys parts but when he saw you building a new one he thought 'wait that's kinda cool actually' he thinks of it like repairing or building a car so when he actually is repairing a car he'd like it if you were also building something so that you can both look like father and daughter doing similar things. When you finished a piece and showed it to him he probably petted your head and said "good job", what he really wanted to say was 'oh my god, oh my god holy shit it's beautiful you built something in so proud of you'. Got one or two of yours as a gift to him and he keeps it extra safe.

Vincent was ecstatic when you showed him your new toy and told him your little hobby, now you both can make art! He could be painting or wax sculpturing and you could be building with him. He's so proud of you whenever you managed to fully make a toy he howls a bit in delight and gives you two thumbs up and he probably sketches your toys because he thinks they're so interesting. He'll be a bit sad when he sees his childhood toys broken though he thinks your new ones are totally worth it. He sometimes likes you watch you do your thing and helps you if you can't figure out what to make.

Lester was also whying when he saw you taking apart the toys, did you hate it that much? But he went wowing when he saw what you were actually doing and totally watches you make your new toys. He will say so many praises when you finish it, will talk about it to his brothers and bo acts annoyed but he secretly wants to hear all about it too. Wants to learn how to build too, it gets boring having nothing to do driving around all day you know. except when tourists are here but scratch that the twins will sometimes find you both together on Lester's trunk on a challenge to see who can build faster and better, its a tie everytime. Jonesy would be there to watch you two (everyone's watching) if you run out of toys then he'll bring you abandoned cheaper ones.

Hannibal

I think it all started when he brought you expensive nice ones and you took one look at it and then ripped it. He almost choked on air when he saw that.

"y/n.. Why did you do that if you didn't like it you could've just told me..."

When you told him about your intentions he replied with,

"I wish you could've told me that sooner, I could've brought cheaper ones." he pinches the bridge of his nose.

And he did. And he watches with great interest on how your little invention will turn out and smiles and praises you when you show him your art piece. Also like Michael he had shelf/shelves full of your works. Informs Will about this too this is how it goes.

_________________________________________

Will, Will look what y/n made.

Hannibal it's 2 am.

_________________________________________

He's a happy little cat when you talk to him about your toys and he's just glad he adopted you. Like Vincent you both can do your little art things.

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lovelybrooke · 3 months

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I don’t remember everything I was thinking about yesterday but I’ll try to tell you based on what I do remember. (Still the idea person by the way I hope you recognize me)

So Val, now that I’ve shared how I think Vox might act with the reader and how he’d first start liking them it’s Val’s turn.

I think Val’s motivation isn’t just alastor and I’m sure everyone would agree he keeps an eye on alastor for Vox but his motivation is to control angel dust.

If angel dust isn’t behaving or properly isn’t following Val in the studio I’m sure Val would use whatever information he has on the reader to keep angel dust in line. Now I’m not saying he’d directly threaten to hurt the reader because god forbid alastor finds out but I think Angel would keep the details of his occupation from the reader, and when Val finds out he’d threaten to maybe tell them, even if he can’t. Angel doesn’t want the readers thoughts on him changing so he naturally continues to obey Val.

I think the vast majority of the people in the hotel kinda infantilizes the reader, knowingly or not, it’s hard not to when they’re a teen/young adult who obviously isn’t as immoral as most sinners. And I’m sure that’s where it starts for Val, he works with the most disgusting people in hell, and because of how messed up the people around him is his conception on a normal person changed. He knows objectively the people around him aren’t normal, but when you’re in hell sickos are normal, finding kind people is like finding a nail in a haystack, it’s so rare. I imagine him starting to be interested in the reader in a cosmetic sense, the same reason why people here want expensive or rare breeds of animal.

He doesn’t care for the reader, he just likes the idea of having something rare. But he also notices Vox, and to me Vox starts obsessing before Val. Val is clearly confused, usually they agree with most things, what makes the reader so different? And why doesn’t Vox like them for cosmetic reasons? Why is Vox so interested in the things they like?

Now I think you finished the season but for those who didn’t, spoilers for episode 6.

Let’s imagine the reader also ended up going to the party (assuming they’re at least 18 and the others didn’t prevent them/ the reader didn’t insist on staying in the hotel). They’re stuck with Husk for obvious reason, but they’re clearly tuned out, in their own little world. Even when the others interact with them they’re still not fully there. And it clicks, Vox must have figured out what’s going on in that brain of theirs, and it must be the reason why he was so drawn to them. And now he wants to figure out what it is. (I typed this way too fast and even when I re read it I’m dyslexic so I might have still made a typo. Thanks for reading)

This is exactly how I imagined Val, he doesn't seem like someone to care about anyone other than himself, so his obsession with reader doesn't come from a place of admiration more from a place of possessiveness. He sees reader as something to own, something to flaunt in front of the other Overlords.

Reading this reminded me of a scenario I had in mind where reader figures out what Angel does for work and Angel begs reader to stay away from Val. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if Val got to you, and it's even more angsty when he's already dealing with Val's threats. Because of this Angel gets incredible protective over reader, keeping an eye on them at all time. And while he doesn't want to be like Val, controlling and possessive, he wants to make sure you're safe.

So when Val starts showing an interest in reader, starts asking things about you, like what you do for fun and why you spend so much time at the hotel, it scares him, because out of everyone Angel knows what Val could do to you.

Val himself doesn't get why the other overlords, especially Vox care about you so much. Yeah you're not like the other beings in Hell, but who gives a shit about your hobbies, your wants or dreams. It would take him a while to understand why the other Vee's are so obsessed with you, and even then Val's obsession if never for the same reason.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #platonic yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader

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gorpiepng · 1 month

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crashes through a window. HI can i get a uhhhh pest x reader who is a graffiti artist.... and the two are really good friends....... and ermm yeah

🪲 pest/reader who’s a graffiti artist!

great... now i’ll have to fix the window sighhh... but yay more pest requests!! love writing for the beetle boy. i love graffiti but the old building i used to use got demolished :[

although he won’t say it, pest thinks your little hobby is really cool. like, really cool. they’re not an artistic type of person so don’t expect him to join in on anything you’re working on, but he’ll gladly watch and give unsolicited advice/input.

you’ll mostly get a lot of “wow that sucks” sarcastic comments but he’s not being serious at all. their humor is typically pessimistic and crude, so if you’re good friends you’re quite used to this and probably share the same type of comedy too— “shut up or i’m finishing the rest of this can on your face.”

you’re not sure how or where pest obtains cans of spray paint from, but he has them! which is great for you because it’s expensive and a rare item in the elevator, so that’s one plus to having a dirty thief as your best friend, they’ll steal the good stuff for you but they’re expecting something in return, most likely a favor

if you make any sort of cool commemorative mural or tag for pest, he’s in love with it. they don’t appreciate much of anything at all but your work would be a major exception mostly because it’s in his name. but since you probably work in an isolated/dark place because... well... graffiti is illegal unless you’re given rights (let’s assume you don’t) pest will linger in the area, a little prideful lol

will absolutely get you out of trouble if you’re ever caught. they’re no innocent civilian either, far from it actually, so he’s got a few tricks up his sleeve to help a buddy out. thank god for pest otherwise you’d be in the slammer

#regretevator #regretevator x reader #roblox #roblox x reader #pest #pest x reader #regretevator pest

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who1ssheesh · 3 months

Text

Xanxus brainrot

Note: I couldn’t even come up with a plot, I just wanted fluffy Xanxus. Hope you enjoy as much as I did writing this

Warnings: OOC Xanxus, nor proofread, English’s not my native language (ouch)

• Accidentally getting a promotion. Getting them way too often and being endorsed way too much. Going home and seeing Xanxus silent, which by the way is weird because usually this menace would have already said how dumb this is and your job is fucking dumb and you are du-

• Actually about “subtle”. No, he’s indeed not. But he thinks he is. And it’s funny that everyone in Varia thinks they are subtle, but you are the observant one. First several bouquets you got were flawless - especially calligraphic cursive handwriting (which now reminds you of Lussuria way too much). And then one time Xanxus fucked up so much, you got flowers with half of petals fucking burnt and the pressure is handwriting on the note so high it was almost ripped.

This dumbass got you flowers personally and still refuses to admit this.

• It’s funny how obvious he can be with small things. Usually he would call you dumb fucking ass and those flowers are dumb and the argument was dumb and you are du- but he stays silent. Xanxus doesn’t stay silence with the most sour face in the world. Xanxus shoots people, throws things around and shouts. He doesn’t stay silent and dart his eyes around the room.

Squalo has been shot several times after noticing this, but he thinks that was worth it cause that’s the funniest face his boss has ever had.

• That’s sad in fact. Xanxus thinks that’s…shameful. He’s bad in relationships. He’s bad with words, he’s bad with people. He’s been bad his whole life, in fact.

Just…just give him a smile, you know. You don’t even have to say anything, he’ll know it’s okay.

If you ever save one of those withered flowers - exactly the one he’s burned with his flame (and it smells like ashes to this day) or that angry written note with pen almost ripping paper, Xanxus will stop just for a moment - so quick, you won’t notice. He has always thought his heart to be frozen, but this time as if he heard a little crack. You manage to lose the most expensive jewelries he gets you, but you save that bullshit like your life depends on it, huh?

He tells you to throw this garbage away. You don’t.

• Xanxus finds you hilarious with your attitude though. The “she comes out in a dress so pretty and expensive, he falls in love even deeper” doesn’t happen. You walk out in a suit and your button shirt opened enough to see you boobs (which is dangerous around this horndog) and then you ask him to visit that pub near cause mafia black-tie events appear to be way too boring. You have probably fucked before running away to that pub

• Fun fact, Xanxus loves playing pool. A lot. No problem if you can’t, he’ll just stare at your ass to distract himself from your shameful attempts.

• Oh boy, will he appreciate you taking interest in his hobbies. Instant cupid arrow through his heart when you ask him to teach you how to shoot just like him.

• Kinda a curse and kinda on you - from now on Xanxus devour your life from you until you learn how to shoot GOOD. And he had high standards. At some point you will hate guns with passion

• He won’t be interested in any of your hobbies in return lol your loss deal with it. But if you are serious about something, he’ll gladly throw money in you he loves throwing things

• GOD WILL SAVE YOU if you accidentally appear to have a flame. Especially strong one (sky??? Even worse if it’s like Xanxus sky+smth??). Because he will devour the whole life from you to make you cool. He will show off you everywhere and everywhere. “Hey you see that one? This thing is mine btw”, so at least he will be proud….

• No romance in this relationship, your conversations sound like “Bitch I swear I’ll kill your family”, “NOT IF I KILL YOUR FIRST”

• Don’t get me wrong but…he thinks about children? Once in a blue moon. At those moments standing at the balcony at 4 am not even drunk thinking about wild shit. Would his life be ok if he never met Nono? That stuff.

• He wonders if his child gonna have your eyes, just like he has his mothers and thinks about it every time he looks in the mirror.

• Xanxus mostly thinks about it in a mocking way - he wants to be that cool badass dad everyone gonna be jealous of. He will teach his son (of course he wants a son) how to shoot his gun, he will laugh the first time this little shit comes home drunk.

• Xanxus has seen a lot. Also he has seen someone’s family being killed. Xanxus is not honest even with himself but he honest with one thing - it will break him. And it will break you first of all

• What if he himself dies? That’s a better option, sure (don’t get me wrong, he wants to die in a badass gunfight), but won’t his life repeat again in his son? He knows there will be people to watch after you both, even you yourself are badass enough (that’s why he dates you), but he doesn’t trust anyone with your life.

So no kids. But sometimes a man can dream, huh?

• My man is not jealous contrary to famous opinion. He likes to see anyone try to even approach you, unironically will find that hilarious. He is a bad influence and encourages you to act like a child - throw a tantrum, throw a drink at a poor fool, tell him you already belong to the bestest hottest man, and he will laugh out loud

• Wear his clothes. He will throw you out the window if you mention, but he starts buying too much clothing that he doesn’t wear. As if he does it for someone else, huh?

• You can hate varia members with passion but they without a joke are going to treat you with respect. You have THE character to keep in touch with their boss, that’s already a sign

• You’re so far gone you’ve probably once was so mad with Xanxus you tried to shoot him with his own gun. Probably ended with a sex marathon. Not that your tiny figure gonna be a threat to this big bear but hey, at least that’s hot

• Xanxus probably has a sweet tooth to this day. His mother could never afford candies, and Xanxus - being even a grown adult - sometimes acts as if he wants all the chocolate of the world.

He will shoot anyone who sees him devouring chocolates. You usually say it’s you when someone notices a pile of wrappers

• I’m talking from a big experience now: childhood in poverty is a trauma for Xanxus to this day and he tends to spend money on dumb impulsive shit. Please don’t encourage him, he’s already insufferable and Squalo has enough of a headache with his boss spending all the money. You appearing didn’t help actually

• One day you just gotta say your man that you don’t need expensive gifts or don’t like flowers, otherwise all the flowers of the world would go extinct. Like varia budget

• That’s his love language, he can’t show appreciation otherwise, don’t blame him?

Though with time he starts warming up to quality time together. He really enjoys your time at a shooting range, especially if you stars gossiping about Varia. At some point he even gonna start commenting your points. Hells, he even likes you just silently sitting in his office while he works

• A chair or a couch in his office, and everyone knows that’s where you’re usually are. Bonus point if there is your stuff all around

• Xanxus is a pig actually and makes a mess 24/7 (thank god he has maids) and it doesn’t bother him, but he will turn into a whiny baby if he ever stumbles in one of your things. Will burn it or throw out a window and have zero guilt about it.

• Has never had a nickname, so will be confused af the first time you call him Xus. Did you insult him? No? YES????

• Likes when you call him nicknames in public, has zero shame. Yes, he has a cool partner, losers. But like….badass ones, he has an image to uphold

• you wearing his feathers you wearing his feathers you wearing his feathers……….

•Xanxus has actually…never had a home. He can buy dozens of the biggest mansions a man can imagine, but that still isn’t home. Living with Nono was hell on Earth in his eyes and his mother he just doesn’t remember anymore after all those years. So the first time he hears your “Ugh, can we go home now?”, he looks at you with the most disgusted face he can make. You think you’ve done something wrong - you don’t see him till late night, when he comes utterly drunk (which means just a little more drunk than usual). But he just flops on a bed to you. “Shut up and go to sleep”. You obviously never get to actual conversation about this but everyone can notice Xanxus hurries back to you (he thinks he’s so subtle about it but this brute is not subtle about anything). He wants to go home.

• Maybe even seeing you around Varia headquarters at some point where you became comfortable around his guardians made something click in him.

Everything is its place. You’ve been the missing part of the puzzle

• It will take long years until someone notices how much their boss changed. Even throw an occasional smile.

• My man has never experienced love JUST LOVE HIM

#khr imagines #khr headcanons #katekyo hitman reborn #Xanxus x reader #khr x reader #varia x reader

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csuitebitches · 30 days

Note

What do you think about consumerism in relation to the "hypergamous" lifestyle?

Great question. I'm going to be honest with you. There’s no point in sharing my opinion, I’d rather share my observation.

there is this perception that you have to spend crazy $$, wear designer, go on expensive holidays, be a part of exclusive member-only clubs in order to bag a wealthy guy. The thinking is, “if I look the part, I will fit right in.”

let me break it to you. If you’re Asian, Middle Eastern - you come from a culture that basically defines marriage as something between two families and not individuals - you could live the above lifestyle, live way beyond your means but your chances of bagging a wealthy guy are low. If you do not have the family background or education level to support your lifestyle to be with a rich guy, it’s going to be very difficult, not impossible. You could bag someone who is upper middle class, but definitely not the 0.01%.

While it’s true that the rich do spend like crazy - you have to understand that (especially in Asians) the level of spending is completely different. They can book a first class emirates flight without caring about rates, they have access to concierge services, the circles are small but tight. It is extremely difficult to break into these if you don’t have the money or are extremely good friends with someone who is in this circle. To keep up with this circle is another financial headache.

The consumerism is crazy, it is high yes, but often it’s for things you might not expect. “Silent luxury”, investing in jewellery, properties, experiences, hobbies, drivers, PAs, 24/7 staff to take care of your home, having personal managers at the banks that have your accounts, seeing the top CEOs, politicians, actors etc as regular people - keeping up is not easy. Even if we look at normal stuff, like shopping for clothes - they’re able to blow this thousands of $ on a simple Hermes tea cup set, break it, and buy another one very nonchalantly. Not to mention the constant social gatherings, the clothes (god forbid you repeat), your life’s experiences etc etc. Women here don’t work to maintain their lifestyle, they work to enjoy what they are doing. Even if they stop working tomorrow, they will be financially taken care of by their families or husbands.

hypergamy here is completely different and obstructed. Let’s take my own example. I date boys that my family picks out for me - boys whose families own massive conglomerates, who are cultured and sophisticated, etc etc. I ended things with my last boyfriend because of multiple things, but what mattered most was that my father felt that he wouldn’t be able to provide for me the way I was used to all my life. (Even tho my ex came from a wealthy background too). At every social gathering that my parents organise or take me to, I’ve got my parents friends asking my parents if I’m single, if I’m interested in meetings their sons, etc etc. Dating and marrying hypergamously in Asian and Middle Eastern cultures is very much a family affair. There is a lot of talk that happens in these circles - who married who, whose kids are dating who, did you hear that A’s son fell in love with some middle class girl he met in college - not to your face, but behind your back.

What I’m trying to say is - you could look the part but still not bag the guy. You could dress nice, you could wear expensive perfume and make up but in the end, backgrounds are vetted extremely carefully. Especially in today’s day and age where looking the part has become easier than ever. So now when you tie this to consumerism, you can see why it can be difficult to keep up with this level of consumerism and spending. And even if you can - that may not guarantee anything. Unfortunately life isn’t like kdramas and some rich guy isn’t going to take pity on you and transform your life when he could just be with someone who has a similar upbringing which is more comfortable.

I’m not sure if I answered your question correctly, but I assumed that you were basically asking me if looking the part can get you any points in the hypergamy scene.

#q/a

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dogfight-if · 1 year

Text

Demo TBA

Fantasy/Romance

Windwood is an interactive fiction game following you as you go on a quest to prevent the end of the world. You play as the youngest of a minor noble family in the fae city of Premxine.

Surrounded by the forest of Windwood, the city is covered, hidden from the human kingdoms. After an attack, you flee the city and forest with three companions to warn the king of a threat.Face to face with your own mortality, you must put a stop to that which poses a danger to the world as you know it. Do what you will, but know that failure will result in an untimely death.

With a long time best friend, a loyal protector, a fierce beast, a prince, princess, noblewoman, a priestess, an angel, a fae hunter, and even an ex-friend turned dark lord, there’s no shortage of romance.

Features

Play as male, female, or somewhere in the non-binary range. Cis, trans, or intersex.

Customize your character to the max with extra unnatural features.

Romance or befriend one of 10 characters, including the dark lord you must defeat.

Uncover the secrets of the gods- or god.

Discover the garden of Eden.

Develop skills in fighting, politics, intelligence, leadership, or stealth.

Choose from 8 different hobbies to pursue.

Dabble in magic, wield a sword, or both if you’re an overachiever.

Get betrayed. Twice.

Survive life threatening injuries.

Find out what you really are.

Romance Options

The Best Friend

Marian Moller (M. he/him)

“As long as i’m here you’ll be safe, i promise,”

Marian, the best friend and prince of Premxine. Marian Moller is fiercely loyal and stubborn, having always been there for you no matter what. To everyone else he’s brash and irresponsible, but you know that’s not the case.

At 5’7, Marian has short, curly pink hair and yellow eyes. He has tan skin, sharp teeth, and has often been said to have an almost childlike face. Marian also has long, pointed ears with feathers framing them.

The Dark Lord

Ness Lodima (M. he/they)

“What have we become? I never wanted this to happen,”

The estranged childhood friend turned evil dark lord. Previously a softhearted optimist, what Ness had been put through changed him. When you knew him as a child he was training to be a druid, but it seems his plans have changed.

5’9, long wavy blond hair with matching yellow eyes, fair skin spotted with freckles. His ears may not be as pointed as any other fae, but they are pointed nonetheless.

The Angel

Foster (M. he/him)

“God never saved me, never helped me when I needed it most, so why should I believe?”

The angel that doesn’t believe in god with repressed memories of heaven. Foster is the holy statue at the church of Andermyne. Short in both height and temper, it’s easy to rile him up, but maybe a more gentle approach is what you need. Foster is key in your plans to stop the end, but can he be convinced to help?

Foster has short fluffy black hair, olive skin with a smattering of scars, and dark brown eyes. Foster stands at 5’2 with a wingspan twice that length. Over his right eye is a large scar that resembles stone cracking.

The Prince

Casimir Kozanaft (M. he/him)

“I do what i must, and if that’s getting rid of you, so be it,”

As the human prince of Afturella, Casimir has a reputation to uphold. With all eyes on him, he can’t afford a slip-up. Taking care of his younger sister Sonja and younger brother Myla, Casimir has his hands full. As independent as ever, Casimir is fully capable of taking charge.

Casimir is 5’8 with shoulder length auburn hair he keeps tied back. He has soft hazel eyes and tan skin with a mole under his left eye. Casimir is commonly said to look pretty, almost like a girl.

The Ranger

Amihan (M. he/they)

“You don’t have to worry about a thing, i’ve got you”

Your protector, the sylph ranger. Amihan’s only goal is to keep you and your group alive, even if it’s at the expense of their own life. With a martyr complex and no regard for human life, Amihan makes a great bodyguard, not so much a great friend.

6’4, smooth brown skin, curly white hair and silver eyes, Amihan is often described as imposing, towering over most. Over his left eye Amihan has a black sylph tattoo, spiraling over.

The Beast

Freyja (F. she/they)

“Don’t touch me, don’t go near me, don’t even look at me,”

Freyja is a wild thing. Living in the Windwood forest, she’s been isolated for so long. She rejects humanity, fighting against all she sees until there is only peace. Hostile and aggressive, Freyja sees nothing in you, but can you change their mind? All she is may just be a damaged soul.

Freyja is 5’5, with long, curly chestnut hair and fierce yellow eyes. If you catch her smiling you’ll see sharp canines. She has light brown skin, spotted with white freckles. Leaves and twigs tangled in her hair around tall antlers. Freyja has ash speared across her eyes and covering her hands.

The Princess

Sonja Kozanaft (F. she/her)

“You don’t know me, stop acting like you do,”

A stone faced, cold hearted woman who only cares about herself. Sonja is closed off and aloof, not wanting to open her heart up. Sonja doesn’t trust easily and her default response to anything is disbelief. Sonja seems like an ice queen, but is there more to it?

5’6, Sonja looks as royal as she is. Sonja has long wavy blonde hair, spotless fair skin, and blue eyes.

The Huntress

Maeryn (F. she/her)

“Such a shame you’re fae, i would’ve loved to have you as my partner,”

Maeryn is what most would call ruthless or crazy. So much blood is on her hands but she’s proud of the fact. Her words can be sharp, but they can also be sweet. You never truly know what’s on her mind, hard to read and conniving. Once she likes someone, she sticks to them, ever so loyal. Is there a motive behind her actions?

The tallest out of the bunch, Maeryn stands at 6’6. She has long blonde locs, violet eyes, and brown skin.

The Priestess

Lumina Durren (F. she/they)

“May Andermyne bless your kind soul,”

Lumina is a kindhearted priestess in the church of Andermyne. Everything she does is gentle- the way her hands clasp together in prayer, even when she lifts a book she treats it with the care you would give an animal. The caretaker of the church’s orphanage, they teach the kids that have nobody left to turn to. But in good, there is always evil.

Lumina is 5’3, with long curly ginger hair, two front strands blonde. She has green eyes and pale skin. With her priestess outfit you can see a four pointed star tattoo on her collarbone.

The Noble

Eliana Derlot (F. she/her)

“Don’t say that, I gave you what you wanted, didn't I?”

Lady of House Derlot, Eliana knows her way around the intricacies of the court. Used to facades and snakes, Eliana has a hard time believing things said, yet values honesty at the same time. The young Lady knows what she wants and how to get it, making her a valuable addition.

Eliana is 5’7, with long wavy brown hair and tanned skin. She has sea green eyes with a mole under her left.

#interactive fiction #interact if #windwood #twine if #IF #interactive novel #fantasy #romance #IF novel #intro post

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gayuu-the-necromancer · 1 year

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Chapter 2

Boundary Between Good And Evil

???: "Wait!!"

(.....!)

I see a little girl and an angry man leaped in front of me, entangled.

Little girl: "Ow!"

He shakes her wrist roughly and I see a small twinkle between her closed fist.

(Is she a thief?)

Man: "I'll make sure you can't use that arm of yours!"

The man raised a fire poker.

(If you hit her hard with that it will break her bones for sure!)

A moment unfolds before my eyes and----

Kate: "Wait!"

Unintentionally, I shouted.

Man: "Huh?! What do you want?"

(I didn't mean to step in, but...!)

Kate: "Hey, first return what you stole. After that, I'll listen to what you have to say."

Little girl: "Ngh!"

Man: "Ow!?"

(Huh!?)

The little girl took this opportunity to kick the man in the arm and disappeared into the crowd.

Man: "Come back, you bitch! And you, what the hell were you trying to do, huh!?"

Kate: "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to...."

(It didn't come to my mind that she would kick the man and run away)

I regret sticking my nose into other people's business, but I'm sure it will haunt me later.

Man: "She stole something very expensive from me! Of course, you're going to pay me for that, right?"

Kate: "Yes, I'll pay you!"

I can feel tears running down my face, as I took out my purse.

...........

Man with long black hair: ".....I see. So that's the cute little robin."

...........

Kate: "Haa....I did it again."

(Although to that jeweler, that little girl may have been an outright bad person, stealing things)

(But I also didn't think it was good to...hurt and blame the little girl who was so cornered that she had to steal)

Everyone knows that East London is full of people living in poverty.

I couldn't just stand by and watch a little girl get hurt without knowing what kind of feelings she was having about stealing.

(But in the end, the jeweler was victimized and the child got away with the crime)

Kate: "....I don't know if what I did was good or bad."

Kate: "All I know is I'm a little short on money for tickets to this month's play."

It is my humble hobby to go to the theater once every few months with the salary I have saved up.

(I was supposed to save up enough after today's delivery...looks like I won't be able to make it this month)

Kate: "Well, I guess there is no point in crying over the spilled milk. I'll just have to make some more money again!"

...........

Kate: "I'm back."

Postmaster: "Kate! Thank god you're here!.....No wait! On second thoughts maybe not, the streets at this hour would be dangerous..."

Kate: "What's wrong?"

Colleague: "Actually, we're understaffed. There is still a vacancy for night delivery."

(Night delivery...that's it!)

Kate: "I'll do it!"

Postmaster: "Are you sure, you will be safe? I appreciate the help...but."

Postmaster: "Okay look, the delivery block is a safe townhouse area, but don't wander off carelessly."

Kate: "Got it!"

(Great! Now can make up for the money I lost earlier!)

(It's my first time doing night delivery...as long as I'm cautious, I'll be fine)

..........

Man with long black: "Now, gentlemen, are you ready?"

Man that looks like a cat: "Of course, Victor. It's been a long time since we've all been on a mission together. It's very exciting."

Aloof man: "You're getting too excited. Too much excitement can backfire and you'll end up hurting yourself. So just chill."

Man with a gun: "I'll fix you up if you're not too badly hurt. If you die, then I'll have one less person to help me with my research."

Man that looks like a cat: "Thank you, Roger. As expected from a former doctor."

Man with blond hair and blue eyes: ".......Al, do I have to go too?"

Gentlemanly man: "Yes. It's a lovely evening and there may be something you're looking for in the target's mansion."

Man with blond hair and blue eyes: "Really....okay."

Best man: "If we're going anyway, get on with it quickly. Unlike the nobles, I don't have time for this."

Tall young man: "You don't have business meetings or collections scheduled for tonight."

Best man: "Tsk....Can't you just read the room and not be honest for once. Shut up."

Man with red eyes: "As you can see, the Crown is ready, Victor."

Man with long black hair: "Ahaha, as usual. You guys are so carefree. Well, let's get started then."

Man with long black hair: "Loyalty to your evil tonight."

Chapter 3 - Invitation To The Dark Night

#ikemen series #ikemen villain #ikemen villains #otome #cybird #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen mc

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piratefishmama · 6 months

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I got tagged in a questions thingy.

by: @w1ll0wtr33 thanks sweets!

1. Are you named after anyone?

Nope, my name was in fact a mistake made by a nurse! It was supposed to be a hyphenated combination of my first and middle name, but the person doing the birth certificate made an error.

2. when was the last time you cried?

Like… fully? Uhm. August? The day before my dad got out of the hospital I had a full blown panic attack cause I knew I’d be alone in taking care of his asshole self and wasn’t prepared to do that. There was crying involved in that.

3. do you have kids?

I would sooner rip my own uterus and womb out, Netflix Witcher style than have children.

Storytime: My mum once bought me a £75 stroller and doll, an this was years ago, like, single digits age range so that was EXPENSIVE for the time (fuck man, it’s expensive now lmao), I… left it out as far away from the house as I, at my age, could... in the rain. An it was all silk and satin material so it was well and truly fucked.

They stopped expecting eventual grandchildren from me very early on in my life.

4. What sports do you/have you play/played?

Does archery count? I feel like archery should count lmao I do archery, and I used to do ju-jitsu, I have medals somewhere for ju-jitsu, god knows where though my medals were never worth keeping track of apparently. My brother's are in his old room.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Fluently.

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

That they’ve invaded my carefully curated alone time and thus have become my enemy.

7. what’s your eye colour?

Hazel, with more green than brown.

They're also my favourite eye colour too! there’s so many variations of it, do you have more green or brown in it? is there a ring of darker colour around your iris or not? Hazel has so many variations it’s such a pretty eye colour to have and it changes. Hazel eyes are magic.

8. scary movies or happy endings?

Thanks to my truly stellar vivid imagination and Childhood Trauma™️, I cannot watch scary movies. At least not ones that have plausibility. Like they could happen. Because for some reason, everytime I watch one of those, my brain ever so lovingly decides to recreate the movie in the form of a nightmare where all the starring cast are people I actually care about an I’m just. watching them all die.

It's never fun. And I can never escape it. Even waking up, if I go to sleep, I will go right back into that nightmare, there’s no escape.

9. any talents?

Many! i have ADHD and autism, I have so many random skills. The only one I can reliably do on command though is writing. I can draw, paint, sew, sing, dance, and many others… sometimes, but the only one I can reliably do without fail, is write.

10. where were you born?

Britain. You don’t get closer than that I ain’t about to dox myself.

11. what are your hobbies?

Writing, reading, video games, creating shit.

12. do you have any pets?

Hope and Shadow are my two dogs, you all know them by now I’m sure. I have a shitton of tropical fish in tanks both upstairs and down, I did have a very smol bird but I had to put him up for adoption as unfortunately he and Hope simply did not get along, she made him very anxious and he made her hungry for bird.

13. how tall are you?

I’m tiny, 4’11.

14. favourite subject in school?

English. I had a great teacher. It would have been art but unfortunately I hated my teacher, and my teacher hated me and that made the lessons very uncomfortable.

15. dream job?

I would love to work with animals. Animals are easier than people.

And no, i'm not tagging people.

#tag games #personal

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 9 months

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Instant Noodles - a Magnus Archives (Crack) Fic

At least his new hobby kept him occupied in the evenings, when too much time to think turned to wretchedness. It just so happened that much of his life was public. On the internet. As part of some gods-damned podcast.

There were no words for how fascinated he was. This was his story—and yet it wasn’t. It was focused on Jon, for some bloody reason, which made no damn sense, since Jon showed up at the very end.

Well. There was no accounting for taste.

Note: This is nonsense. Full apologies to Jonny and Alex, who are 100% the creators of my favorite podcast, The Magnus Archives. This is a work of fiction, etc. and so forth. Take it as the joke it's meant to be.

AO3

-------

The room was dark because electricity was expensive. It was cold for the same reason, but there were blankets, and the bright blue light of his cracked phone screen, so. One did what one had to. It was hardly the first time he’d made do.

It might not be the last—but he hoped it would. This was miserable. Perhaps because this body had never known lack, never gone hungry, never even been without a proper skin routine, it all felt worse than it used to. Damned Elias Bouchard. Weak stock. He’d choose better next time.

Assuming he could.

It was a big assumption, and a risk Jonah wasn’t sure he dared take. Oh, the Fears were here; the Eye was here; it was all going on, right and proper, but he’d been… cut off.

Minds were closed to him—it felt like trying to see through a porcelain bowl. Making his way with that handicap, first robbing people, then figuring out how to make more money without any kind of ID—it had all taken time, and only worked as well as it had because he was a white male with a good smile.

There were no words for how fascinated he was. This was his story—and yet it wasn’t. It was focused on Jon, for some bloody reason, which made no damn sense, since Jon showed up at the very end.

Well. There was no accounting for taste.

In spite of himself, Jonah was obsessed. Driven by this true story, woven as fantasy by real people in another world, crafted by someone with the same name as his greatest achievement and greatest failure, and seemingly far too accurate to be accidental.

It made absolutely no sense. He was riveted. He couldn’t look away.

He listened to all the recordings. He pirated the extras (as if he could afford to become a Patreon). He stalked fan-forums and Tumblr and ArtStation and Reddit. Some depictions were very close.

He resisted the urge to comment. To correct.

That’s not what happened, he wanted to say, except it sort of was? A few intriguing details missing, perhaps, a few crucial bits of innuendo, possibly because it was Jon’s retelling, and therefore not the whole picture.

One of Jonah’s favorite things was when the so-called creators of his own story did fan-readings: dramatizing fanfiction online, in public, on YouTube, in front of everyone.

He was transfixed.

Some of the fandom details were more accurate than the so-called creators’ attempts. Most were wildly off; Jonah heard himself described as cruel (he was merely pragmatic), brilliant (yes), foolish (not at all), cowardly (well…), incredibly sexual (somewhat flattering, but Jonah really did just prefer to watch), wildly murderous (no, too risky), and more. All these people, writing about him, about him, and he got not one lick of power from it. It seemed unfair.

Jonah was willing to bet someone was raking in that psychic energy, though. Oh, yes.

“It is as if Jonathan and the Beholding are… one, ” intoned Jonny Sims—the “creator” of this tale who’d no idea what he’d channeled—reading some fic by a writer called EnbyNeti.

Alex joined him on the word one, and they shared a laugh, because to them, it wasn’t real.

Jonah snorted. “One,” he muttered, huddling in his blanket over his cup of instant noodles, because as long as it was still hot from the microwave, the steam smelled better than the mildewed room, and warmed his hands, and opened up his pores. “Don’t know anything. They weren’t one, they… entangled.”

Sure. That’s what it was. That’s why, when they all landed here, Jon had somehow woken him up (and Jonah had no memory of the time between stabbing and waking and was grateful), said “Good luck,” (oh, very funny, you prick), taken Martin’s hand, and just… walked away.

Left him there without any resources, with some sort of block on his powers, without money or contacts or any help at all.

It was scary. It was precisely the type of vulnerability he’d spent his whole life trying to avoid. That was probably why Jon did it.

“They weren’t one,” he muttered again, unsure with whom he was arguing. “Couldn’t be.”

And then Jonny got all funny with Alex as they commented on that fic. “Oh! Oh, a lot goin’ on here,” Jonny said with great humor. “I don’t know what, but ooh, a lot of it!”

“Ha! If only you knew,” Jonah muttered, pointing a cheap bamboo chopstick at the cracked screen.

“I dunno,” said Alex. “Part of me read that and just went, ‘Yeah, that’s what you get.’”

“Excuse me?” said Jonah.

“That’s what you get,” Jonny agreed.

“That’s what you get, man,” said Alex, shaking his head. “If you build a god, it’s gonna come, and it’s gonna get you.”

“Yeah. Don’t build gods,” said Jonny.

“Don’t build gods, people,” said Alex.

“Don’t build gods. Hi. I’m Jonny Sims. And I’m here to tell you: don’t build gods.”

Jonah missed the rest of the broadcast.

They pattered along, these two young creatives, joyfully joking, reciting fantastic versions of Jonah’s life that maybe were real somewhere else but had certainly not happened here.

If you build a god, it’s gonna come, and it’s gonna get you.

So it had. And then it had abandoned him. And maybe… maybe he was, in fact, very lucky that it had chosen to walk away. “That’s enough for today, I think,” Jonah said, and switched it off, choosing instead to sit in the dark, in silence broken only by bad pipes and heavy traffic, and eat his instant noodles.

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

NOTES:

So yes, this is the clip in question responsible for this absurd fic. Twenty-six seconds of beauty. Enjoy.

Also, thank you @enbyneti for happening to be the author referenced in that moment in the vid!

#tma #tma fic #short fiction #one shot #jonah magnus #tma spoilers #elias bouchard #jonny sims #alex newell #this is nonsense #do not take this seriously #I am very sorry #jmart #metafiction

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earlgarden-archived · 1 year

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Jumin Han x Elegant! reader part 2!

Outline: Jumin with a elegant wife

Characters: Jumin Han

Warnings: Only for female readers. Might be a bit ooc

Sorry if this was a bit short.

Wedding

Yup we're gonna completely skip the proposal and go straight to the wedding. (Because I'm a bit lazy)

The wedding was... Big. And very expensive. Jumin wanted to make this the most memorable day in your life, so he went all out with the wedding. He insisted on paying for your wedding dress, but since he was already paying for everything, you decided to pay it yourself. Of course, you being the elegant queen you are, you wanted a gorgeous, elegant dress. And after a long day, you couldn't really find the perfect dress. So, Jumin suggested to get a custom made wedding dress. And once again offered to hire one, but again, you declined (because you are too kind) After all, being elegant is not just about the looks. You were able to work with the designer to design the PERFECT dress. And oh my god, the look on Jumin was priceless. He had to quickly fix his composure though. He invited all the RFA members for you to meet, and even offered for you to join RFA (its up to you if you accept or not).

RFA members opinions

After becoming wife and husband, a lot of the RFA members have noticed that he's changed a bit. He came into the chatrooms more, often talking about you, and he would be a little more considerate of others, thanks to your influence. He also shares a lot of photos of you in the chatrooms, slightly bragging about how lucky he was to have you.

Zen was SO shocked about the sudden consideration Jumin now has for him. Before, he would constantly tease Zen with Elizabeth the 3rd, but now, he doesn't do it as often. But he is also a bit jealous of Jumin. He kinda thought that he would be the first RFA member to date, or even marry someone. So when Jumin shared the news of their marriage, he was a little jealous and said that he didn't really deserve you. (As shown in Jumin's official after story). But he's come to accept it now.

Jaehee is relieved that you influenced him to be more nicer to people. Now, she has time for breaks and can finally rest. Now that you're there, you're the one to look after Elizabeth the 3rd, leaving Jaehee cat-free! Unfortunately, you are also sometimes busy, so she's still forced to take care of her. But at least it's less often. (Unless you're also busy like Jumin, then she would not be happy).

Yoosung thinks youre super kind, like Rika. He really envies how you are confident in who you are, and how you know you're valuable. He sometimes has a hard time with that, since he always thinks he's the least interesting person in RFA. As well, he notices how you have polite manners, a little bit similar to Jumin. You can also handle conversations really well, almost nothing catches you off guard, you hide most of your emotions behind a graceful smile. He knows why Jumin fell for you.

You and V got along quite well. You both have nice conversations with eachother, talking about various different topics, from Jumin's childhood, to V's photographs etc. And when Jumin asked if you could join RFA, he said he didn't mind, you seemed like a pretty secretive person, so he felt like he could trust you with information. Of course, he and Seven both have to do a background check first before you join. But overall, he thinks that inviting you should be alright.

707 thought you were a chill person, you slightly giggled at his jokes and you seemed like you enjoyed his company (which made Jumin a tiny bit jealous). V asked him to do a background check on you, and he was slightly relieved when he found that you had a safe background. Since he kinda wanted you to join.

When you're a ballerina as a hobby

When he found out you were a ballerina, he made an entire ballet practice room just for you. This is so you don't need to walk that far to practice, and it was more efficient this way. As well, whenever you had a show, he would ALWAYS come. No matter what, he would somehow find time in his busy schedule to come to your show. Several times, meetings were delayed to make time for your show. You always said that he didn't need to come any time, but he insisted on coming. Plus, you were pretty happy that he was so supportive.

One time, you were starring in Swan Lake, and he was stoked. He even invited the RFA members to come. (Believe it or not, he invited Zen, since he knew Zen would probably enjoy this). Everyone was mesmerized. You were just so... BEAUTIFUL. Even Yoosung enjoyed it, which Jumin was slightly surprised about.

#mystic messenger #jumin x reader #jumin han x reader #mystic messenger x reader #jumin han

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 years

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The Sacrifice

Summary: I swear, if you could see him, you'd get it.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: None. Pure fluff, except for the painful torture of a Chevy Sonic.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 757

A/N: So, I’ve decided to do all 30 of these writing prompts. I may miss a day here and there, but I’m going to try to do one a day, and I will be completing all 30 no matter what. They won’t always be in order. This fic will be for the prompt: Write about finding a new hobby.

I will be putting together a Masterlist for all 30 prompts and adding it to my main Masterlist.

The beautiful text divider at the bottom, was created by @talesmaniac89.

I have a new hobby. It's an expensive one and it's become pretty time consuming. My newest hobby is finding new and different ways to wreck my car.

My first breakdown was legitimate. Something died in my transmission, apparently. So, on a friend's recommendation, I brought it down to Singer Auto. She swore up and down that I was going to absolutely love the service I'd get there.

She said it with a hint of a hidden, knowing smile, and I was curious what it was all about. So I brought in my little Chevy hatchback, and the minute I met my mechanic, I got it.

His name is Dean and sweet holy Jesus is that man gorgeous. It defies logic for someone to be that incredibly beautiful, especially covered in grease and dressed in a ratty grey t-shirt, and dark blue coveralls with the arms tied around his waist.

The description doesn't exactly scream GQ, but trust me when I say this man should be on the cover of everything!

GQ? Yes.

Vogue? Yes.

Better Homes and Gardens? Sure.

Car and Driver? Yep - logical.

Playgirl?

...?

Excuse me, I'm gonna need a moment.

I mean, I know they don't even publish Playgirl anymore, but I swear they'd put it back into circulation if Dean said he'd pose!

But I digress.

My point is that after that first meeting with him - after shaking his big, warm, callused hand - after hearing him speak in his deep, delicious, honey-warm voice - I knew I absolutely had to see him again.

So, two days later I opened my hood, ripped out some wires and brought it back in. A week later I was back with two flat tires.

The other day I brought it in for an oil change. When Dean pointed out that they'd done an oil change as a matter of routine, the first time I brought it in, I insisted they do another anyway.

"Can never be too careful!" I'd squeaked at him. To which he'd nodded and smiled slightly, eyeing me like I might have a screw loose.

So, it's really stupid that I'm sitting in front of the garage again. I'm going to tell Dean that I hear a knocking sound. If he can't find the cause right away, he may need to keep it overnight which would give me reason to return tomorrow.

I climb out of my car but instead of going into the front reception area, I sneak in through the open garage door hoping I'll have the chance to see Dean actually working on a car. Maybe his t-shirt will be clinging to him, muscles straining as he lifts something heavy.

Maybe he'll be sweating.

But as I walk around the shelving unit full of spare parts, I hear the older mechanic speaking to Dean in a gruff voice.

"For God's sake, boy, ask her out. She obviously likes you, at least enough to keep trashing her car."

Dean runs a grubby hand down his face, depositing streaks of grease across his wrinkled brow.

"I don't know, Bobby. I mean, she's pretty classy; she told me what she does for a living? And I swear I had to go home and google it, and I still couldn't explain it to you!"

"Well, all I'm telling you is, I don't want to see that pretty little Sonic go through anymore trauma. I think - "

Bobby cuts himself off as he spots me by the shelves.

He clears his throat, gestures towards me, and then shoves Dean in my direction.

My face is beet red as Dean approaches. He's rubbing one hand across the back of his neck, a shy smile appearing on his beautiful face.

Good. God. It would be more merciful if he'd just kill me quick.

As he reaches me, I decide to pretend I haven't heard anything, so I wave my hand toward my car. "There's a...a knoc-"

"Can I take you to dinner?" Dean interrupts me, deciding to go the direct route. He's smiling, but I can see the uncertainty in his emerald eyes and it's ridiculously adorable.

I feel like leaping into the air and screaming like a game show contestant who just won a million bucks. But I settle for beaming up at him and clapping my hands a couple times.

"Yes, I would love that."

Dean's uncertainty melts away and his smile becomes wide and teasing.

"K, awesome. But let's take my car. Yours seems to have a lot of problems."

@akshi8278

@lgranger67

@maggiegirl17

@carryonwaywardgirl

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@foxyjwls007 @b3autyfuldisast3r @myloversgone @kazsrm67 @fangirlxwritesx67 @kickingitwithkirk @charred-angelwings

@hopefuldreamers-world @siospins2 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @my-sherlock221b @jensensgotyoudean @lyarr24 @snowlovespie @stixnstripesworld

@thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @norman1967 @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy

@b-i-t-c-h-i-e @twirpbunwarrior @mysweetlittledesire

@waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester

@bernasaurus @leigh70

@supernatural4life2022

@dainrumnaheim

@sexyvixen7

@maliburenee

@waywardbaby

@jensenslady79

Masterlist

Tag Lists

#30 days writing challenge #dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester drabble

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