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straykeedz · 7 months

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day 1: bang chan + praise

©straykeedz

tw: mentions of jealousy and insecurities; female anatomy; semi-clothed sex (reader is naked but chan keeps his clothes on); softdom!chan; nipple play; oral (f receiving); unprotected piv sex (don’t do that at home 🤨); light ass play (it’s barely even there honestly); creampie; aftercare ♡

wc: 3,1k

🔖 (open): @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; ♡

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni.

♡

“Look at me.”

Chan’s voice echoes in your room. He is kneeling between your legs, still completely dressed, with the sleeves of his unbuttoned shirt rolled up his forearms as his hands rest on each of your knees. You’re on your back, laying on your bed, legs spread to welcome his body between them. You’re in only your underwear - your clothes scattered on the floor, but you couldn’t care less.

“Look at me.” Chan repeats, and you do as he says, snapping your head up to meet his eyes - dark with lust. His hands travel all over your thighs, gently squeezing the flesh with his fingers as he does so. “You were jealous tonight, weren’t you? Of that girl.”

To this day, Chan is still the only person who can read you like an open book. Even at the club, he immediately knew something was up with you - he could see it in the way you wouldn’t look him in the eyes, the way you’d bite your cheek nervously when he was talking to you. All because you were jealous of the girl he’d been talking with at that stupid party. It was a brief interaction, though it was enough to make your stomach twist nonetheless. You couldn’t help but compare her to you and damn - she was beautiful, and she looked just like Chan’s type.

You nod without uttering a single word, too embarrassed to voice your insecurities.

“There’s no need to be jealous, baby girl.” Chan speaks, and the pet name he calls you has you shivering under his soft touch, his hands glued to your skin. “I’m yours.”, he whispers.

Your breath hitches when you hear those words and tears well up in your eyes. You wish you weren’t so damn insecure. You lower your gaze, but Chan promptly places two fingers under your chin and lifts your head up, forcing you to meet his eyes once again. He’s smiling. Not a cocky smile, neither a smirk - a warm, sweet smile, the smile you love so much.

“Chan…”

“I’m yours.”, he repeats, taking your hand between his, before placing it on top of his chest. “Can you feel it?”, he asks, referring to his heartbeat. You nod, looking at him through your eyelashes. “It beats for you.”, he whispers. “Got it, baby girl?”, he asks.

You nod, looking him in the eyes - he knows you’re being honest. “You know my heart beats for you only, too.”, you murmur, not taking your eyes off of him.

He smiles at you, leaning in to kiss your lips - a chaste kiss despite you being half naked under him. “I know, baby.”, he nuzzles your nose with his, then pecks your lips once again. “We’re soulmates.”, his words make your stomach twist - this time, with joy. “That’s why there’s no need to be jealous.”, he points out and you know he’s right, it’s just… insecurities are a bitch, and there isn’t much you can do about it.

“I know, Chan, it’s just…”, you mumble, lowering your gaze.

“It’s just?”, he encourages you. He hates not knowing what’s going on in your mind, especially if it’s important enough to make you feel this way.

“I guess I’ve been feeling a bit more insecure lately…”, you admit with a sigh, still not looking at him.

He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows. “More insecure?”, he asks, stressing the first word. “Why are you feeling insecure in the first place, baby?”, he asks, tone soothing and sincerely concerned.

“Because you’re you and I’m… me.”, you simply state.

Chan chuckles, shaking his head. “What does this even mean?”, he asks. He doesn’t want to come off as disrespectful towards you - he just genuinely can’t comprehend why on earth would you feel insecure about yourself when you look insanely gorgeous in his eyes.

“You’re perfect, Chan. Handsome, fit, charming…”, you whine. “And I look like this.”, you cover your face with both of your hands.

“Yeah, like a fucking goddess.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”, you whisper, not convinced at all by his words.

But Chan’s not having this tonight, so he delicately wraps his fingers around your wrists and removes your hands from your face, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “I’m saying it because I mean it.”, he states, dead serious, piercing eyes staring into yours. “You’re fucking beautiful. Understood?”, he asks you, fingers still around your wrists.

You gulp, swallowing the lump in your throat as you nod slowly.

“Good.”, he grins. He lets go of your wrists and his fingers immediately go to the button of his jeans, undoing it pretty quickly, then he unzips them. “Now - I’m going to give you the fucking of your life.”

Your eyes widen and you can feel wetness pool in your underwear, goosebumps all over your skin as you watch him pull his pants and underwear down just enough to free his hard cock, not even bothering to slide them down the curve of his ass as he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his bare chest.

“Panties and bra.”, his voice vibrates in his chest. “Off.”, he demands with a grunt.

You hook your thumbs on each side of your panties and slowly begin to pull them down your legs, lifting your ass in order to remove them completely, kicking them off for good, revealing your bare pussy to him - a mouthwatering sight that, Chan is pleased to certify, never fails to amaze him. Then, you sit on the mattress and unclasp your bra, and now that you find yourself so close to his hard dick, you stretch your hand to wrap your fingers around its thick base, but Chan is faster and halts your movements.

“Not tonight.”, he shakes his head as a no. “Tonight’s about you. Now lie down for me, baby girl.”

His body is immediately on yours, and he wastes no time in latching his mouth to the skin of your neck, humming and grunting when he hears you moan and whine under his touch. Then, he cups one of your breasts with the palm of his hand.

“Fucking perfect.”, he moans against your skin as he delicately pinches your nipple. Meanwhile, his teeth delicately scrape the soft flesh of your collarbone. “You’ve got the prettiest tits.”, he kisses and licks the skin between your boobs as he continues to play with your nipple, earning a series of whines from you. “So pretty.”, he murmurs as his mouth gets closer and closer to your other breast, a few inches away from your neglected nipple.

“Chan.”, you whine when he latches his mouth to your nipple, engulfing it between his plump lips as he sucks on it. He sucks and sucks and sucks - and then he bites, making you see stars as you can feel yourself clenching around nothing, pussy so wet you’re sure you’re dripping on the sheets.

“You like it when I play with your pretty tits, don’t you?” Chan teases - he already knows the answer, but you nod anyway, biting your lower lip as he takes your nipple back in his wet mouth, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it, as if it’s his fucking job.

“Mhhh, fuck.” Chan moans, pulling away from your nipple, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to it. “Gonna make you cum just from this - from me sucking on your tits.”, he announces before engulfing your nipple with his plump lips, tongue delicately swirling around it as his fingers keep on playing with your other one.

He knows you can cum just from that - you already have with him, and he knows what to do to send you over the edge in record time. So you fall apart under his touch with a guttural grunt less than a couple of minutes later, toes curling as you cum - Chan’s fingers pinching one nipple and his plump lips suck on the other one, teeth occasionally scraping the surface of your sensitive skin.

“Chan…”, you whimper as you find your release.

“You’re so hot when you cum for me, baby girl.” Chan praises you as he lets go of your nipples while you’re trying to catch your breath. “The most beautiful sight.”

“Chan, baby…”, you whine, cupping his face in both of your hands. “Want you.”

He’s absolutely in love with how desperate you’re sounding right now, but God knows he’s not done with you yet. Not even remotely close to being done with you. He wants you to know how much he loves you and your body, how much you turn him on, how you have him wrapped around your fingers. He needs you to know.

“Not yet, baby.”, he pecks your lips as he props himself up on his elbow, his other hand brushing the skin of your body all the way from your breast to your pubic bone, right on your groin. “Think you can give me another one?”, he nuzzles your nose with his.

You nod timidly, and you think he’s about to make you cum on his fingers, when you feel him lift his body and kneel between your legs - hard cock looking painfully red and leaking pre-cum - before laying flat on his stomach right between your legs to the point he’s basically making eye-contact with your wet pussy. Oh.

Chan is a big fan of oral sex - whether it is receiving it or giving it, even though he doesn’t please you with his mouth as much as he’d like to, mostly because you get impatient and practically beg him to fuck you already. Tonight, tho, he’s not giving in, no matter how much you beg him. Tonight you’re going to cum on his tongue and then he’s going to fuck you.

“The prettiest pussy.”, he comments, as the pads of his fingers delicately brush against the skin of your labia. “My pussy.”, he grunts, eyes lock on your clit that’s basically screaming for attention.

He contemplates the idea of teasing you, but then decides he’ll leave that for another time, because it’s not what tonight’s about. So, without uttering another word, he licks a long stripe that goes from your wet slit to your clit - pleased with the way you whine and kick your head back as you grip on the bedsheets.

“Fuck.”, you moan when he repeats the previous action, only this time you don’t kick your head back - instead, you make eye-contact with him as he licks you clean from your previous orgasm.

“Mhh, so sweet too.”, he hums against your skin as he swallows your arousal. “I love to taste you. I love to get my mouth on you, promise you’ll let me do this more often.”, he places a kiss directly on your clit, making you squirm under his touch.

“Yes. Fuck, yes.”, you pant when he wraps his lips around your sensitive nub, pleased with your answer. He lets go of your clit only to dampen his lips by licking them, and then he’s back to sucking on your most delicate spot, knowing it drives you crazy.

“Good girl.”, he praises, now playing with your clit using the tip of his skilled tongue, making you see stars. “This is my pussy.”, he sucks - hard. “Only I get to pleasure you this way, right?”, he rhetorically asks, and sucks again.

“Yours. Only you.”, you pant, mind blank as you try to fight the urge to cum on his tongue - you want this to last a little more, but the way he’s now licking your pussy tells you he wants to get you off as soon as possible.

He eats you out as if it’s his last meal. He alternates long sucks on your clit with kitten licks, then lets the tip of his tongue do the rest, and you can already feel your second orgasm building up in your stomach. With another hard suck on your clit, you fall apart under him for the second time, chanting his name like a prayer as you release, a bit of your arousal dripping onto the sheets, but Chan is quick to lick them clean, savoring your taste and swallowing gladly.

“Liked it?” Another rhetorical question, since he can see your legs are practically shaking - a clear sign you enjoyed his mouth on you.

“Loved it.”, you respond, and he smiles at you - chin glistening with your cum.

“Good.”, he kneels between your legs and wraps his slender fingers around his cock, stroking it a couple of times and smearing his own arousal all over his pink tip. “Now turn around.”

You gulp, eyes widening as soon as you hear those words. “What?”

“Turn around.”, he repeats. “Face down, ass up. I reckon I promised you the fucking of your life, didn’t I?”, he smirks.

You do as he demanded, mouth watering at the thought of your sweet Chan giving it to you good from behind. You should feel at least a little embarrassed to be completely naked and on full display in front of him, who’s still fully clothed behind you, but you don’t. In fact, you couldn’t care less as both your mouth and pussy are drooling in anticipation. Somehow, the fact that his clothes are still on makes it even more exciting.

“So obedient. My sweet girl.” Chan comments as he positions himself behind you, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance, kissing your slit. One hand wraps around the base of his thick cock, while he grips on your waist with the other, keeping you in place.

He’s delicate when he pushes inside - knowing that you’re a lot more sensitive from this angle, and that you can feel him even deeper. Perhaps this is the reason why he chose this position, perhaps he wants you to feel all of him. There’s nothing you can do to prevent the guttural sound that escapes your throat when he’s fully buried inside of you, and you swear you can feel its very tip kissing your cervix from this angle.

“You good?” Chan asks, whimpering, as he grabs your hips with his other hand as well. He wants to make sure he’s not hurting you in any way.

“Good. Full.”, is all you’re able to say.

He chuckles. “You feel so good around me, baby.”, he moans, starting to thrust back and forth inside of you at a steady rhythm. “Take my cock so well.”, he praises you, gripping tighter on your hips.

The slapping sounds of skin against skin soon fill your bedroom, and you’re both left incapable of speaking for a while - him, too blessed with the feeling of having your tight walls wrapped around him, you with how good his cock is pounding inside of you.

“Feels so big inside of me, Chan.”, you pant, gripping on the sheets so tight he can see your knuckles turn white.

See, Chan is a sucker for praise. He loves praising you, but when you praise him? God, have mercy on him. He starts pounding inside of you even faster now, however not too roughly. “Yeah? You like my cock?”, he asks breathless - hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he thrusts relentlessly.

“I love it.”, you purr, and you can feel him twitch inside of you - a signal he’s close. “It’s so perfect, Chan. It’s big and long and thick and-“

“Fuck.”, he curses, thrusting a bit harder - his balls slapping against your clit. “I love your pussy so much, baby.”, he pants. “I love you so fucking much.”, the words roll off his tongue easily and almost automatically, a sign he’s being honest.

“I love you too.”, you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, mouth agape as he slides his cock in and out of you relentlessly. “Yeah, give it to me like that.”, you purr.

You see him biting his lower lip, eyes closed. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”, a particular hard thrust makes you moan in pure pleasure. “Make me so hard all the time.” Chan starts to ramble. “Even tonight, fuck. I got so hard while looking at you. You were so beautiful in that dress. You’re always beautiful.”

You can already feel another orgasm building up in your stomach - thanks to his amazing cock and his words, a deadly combination. “Chan, you’re gonna make me cum.”, you announce with a moan, your walls squeezing him even tighter to the point he finds it hard to move inside of you.

“Again?”, he asks, a bit surprised. Three times in one sitting is not a record for the two of you, but it’s also not that common as well, so he’s proud with himself.

“Mh-hm.”, you hum. “Cock’s too good.”

“Fuck, baby, I’m close, too. Cum for me. Give me another one.”, desperation in his voice as his hips move more frantically now, cock throbbing inside of you.

What sends you over the edge, tho, is when he taps your other hole with the pad of his thumb - not sliding it in, just brushing your rim with it and occasionally tapping on the sensitive flesh. That has you cumming in record time, squeezing him so hard it almost hurts as you cream around his length, which is what sends him over the edge as well.

“God, I’m- I’m cumming, fuck.”

He spills inside of you with a deep, hoarse grunt, gripping tight on your waist as he shoots all of his load in your pussy, careful not to waste a single drop, still buried deep inside of you. It takes him a few seconds to come off his intense high, and eventually he loosens the grip on your hips and begins to pull out, watching mesmerized as his cum mixed with yours starts dripping out of your hole - still so tight even after what you just did. He delicately taps you on the flesh of your ass, motioning for you to lie down on your stomach and just relax - he knows your legs must be probably sore.

He disappears from the bedroom only to come back a few seconds later with a wet washcloth, then lies down on the bed next to you and brings it between your legs to clean you up from both yours and his body fluids, careful not to overstimulate you as he peppers your shoulder with soft kisses.

“I love you so much…”, he whispers against your skin.

“I love you too.”, you murmur, shifting on the bed only to bury your face in his neck, nuzzling your nose against his skin.

“Promise me you won’t feel insecure ever again.”, he kisses the top of your head. You can’t promise him that - it’s not something you have control over. You gulp, swallowing the lump in your throat, but don’t answer him. He sighs. “At least, promise me that every time you feel insecure, you’ll tell me. So that I can prove you how much I love you.” That you can do. “Deal?”

You nod, a smile spreads on your face. You place a kiss on his chest.

“Deal.”

♡

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l3viat8an · 4 months

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HI RO!!!! it’s been forever since I’ve been here oh my 😭 how are youuuu???

I’m just having. many a thot thought. abt poly MC getting praised and pampered and overstimmed just getting all the sweet, gentle (soft dom??? I guess??) vibes from the bros after doing really well during the semester/term at RAD.

maybe they tease or double down on praising bc they know it makes MC shy but also that they actually enjoy it 👀 maybe getting tied up is involved 👀

but overall they’re not mean, they just want MC to know they’re proud of them, so what better way to do that than going to the extremes to show them?

anyway that’s my little rant, I just thought it was cute and wanted to share 😋🫶🏻

have a good day, and happy holidayssss!!! make sure you take care of yourself <3

- ♈️ anon

Hiiii ♈️!!! I’m good! Tired from holiday prep but good lolol how have youu been??? + it’s late for me so ignore if this has any typos as usual jsjsj

Just imagine Asmo getting all excited when he sees how well you did! His sweetheart is soooo smart and that deserves some kisses right~ he he’s going to cover your face in quick little kisses, giggling the whole time! It doesn’t matter who else is around, you deserve the praise and the blush on your cheeks is so cute!

Then Satan walks over and basically pushes Asmo out of the way- completely ignoring Asmo’s pouting and saying that if anyone praises you it should be him. after all he’s the one that tutored you all semester and helped when you didn’t know something about Devildom law- his kiss is deep and would’ve been a lot longer if Mammon and Levi weren’t yelling whining about how they helped you too!!! This is all just Asmo and Satan looking for an excuse to act all lovely dovey!! they’re both jealous and would prefer to have you alone- whispering sweet praise in your ear and placing soft kisses all over your body <3

Belphie just laughs, obviously you’re enjoying the attention so what’s the big deal? Beel’s nodding along- tho he really wants a kiss too, he’ll wait his turn.

and while he’ll let them indulge you for a few minutes Lucifer is quick to end it all, saying that you did wonderful as expected because; they all helped you. He walks over and kisses the top of your head, whispering just loud enough that you can hear him “I’m proud of you, darling.” and chuckles when he pulls away and sees your face is bright red.

Nsfw bit below here <3

Oooor Lucifer joins in on praising you!! You really did so well and Asmo’s right, that deserves a reward~ but what should it be?

Mammon shouts something about how you should just spend the day with him! He’ll spoil ya as much as you want!

Levi cuts Mammon off, stumbling over his words but promising that he’ll do whatever you want….uhhh if you want to spend time with him….to celebrate- and Satan cuts right back in saying that he’s the one that’s going to spoil you! It’s only fair!

‘n so on- obviously they’re not gonna agree right away, but it’s cute to watch you get excited over the way they fight for your attention!

Eventually it’s Belphie that has the best (?) (depends on who you ask tbh) idea. They could just share you-

Asmo whines that it’s not fair!! He didn’t get to say that first but Belphie just rolls his eyes and continues; after all, you worked so hard to get good grades~ it’ll be his…..their reward to you, kissing, praising and touching you until you can’t think anymore.

Just let them worry about you, yea? You know it’ll feel good too….all they want to do is make you feel good, spoil you, fill you up with cocks and cum until the only thoughts left in your cute little head are about them and how good it feels to be spoiled-

and for once the others all agree- if it’s what you want ofc <3

#poly reader <3 #♈️ anon!#ro rambles #1 am thots~#being spoiled by all of them is the dream 😩#obey me!#obey me poly reader #obey me x poly reader #obey me smut #smut #x reader #om!#om! poly reader #obey me x chubby reader #obey me x reader

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nymphomatique · 7 months

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-ahem after reading your nerd/loser!Miguel I just CANT ✊😩 ❤ I gonna need ask orrrr request something !...YOU MADE SOMETHING AWOKEN something in me that I i JUST can't explain😵😳 but NEED TO BE RELEASED (😏) and now today I wanted to request my take on it if that ok with you 😌😏

Ok hear me out nerdy loser/horny!Miguel x YOU GUESS IT popular/richfm!reader 😝!!!..

So let me explain the plot first 😌 .so let just say we never seen Miguel (it been an long time since) only remember that name while reader was in highschool and reader was one of Miguel bully I guess.. (even though she not the one laying an hand on him 😒😔) as she just watch as her popular group of friends bullied Miguel seeing him have tear down acting nothing like an man... ( what an man baby)'Which taught was more *interesting* about this nerd. but reader always think he was cute (I guess reader say it in her mind) even if he was an loser nerd at high school and more of an quite guy and only care for work.but the best part of Miguel in high school is that he ALWAYS obey no matwhat towards you/fm!reader 😩(god I don't know if I have to explain the next scene but I think I just hints some 😝😋 blow jobs overstuim- i mean many !! I want to see. Him cry on the desk while reader under it 🗣✊)

This is could be an flash back honestly I don't care 🗣🗣 I hope your doing great and having an awesome day

you were cooking nonnie‼️ i hope this translated well into writing. and yes timeskip crumbs 🤭

cw: no smut in this one folks! timeskip present, mentions of cannabis use, miguel gets bullied ;(, reader saves him tho dw, genuinely just fluff, teeny bit of d/s stuff, allusions to sex at the end. italic text is a high school flashback! enjoy 🫶🏾

“i cannot believe you had braces!” miguel laughs at your yearbook picture. you smack his arm and roll your eyes at his laughter.

“s’not funny. was only my freshman year.” you mumble,

“i’m just kidding honey, you’re still gorgeous, braces or not,” he says, kissing your temple. the two of you were sitting on your couch in your shared condo, looking at your old high school yearbook.

“you’re flattering me to get in my pants,” you quip. miguel wraps an arm around you and kisses your neck whispering low. “don’t need flattery to do that.”

you push his face away and snort. “when did you get so suave, mr. o’hara?” you question. “you weren’t as smooth in high school if u remember correctly.”

“you’d be right, but meeting you changed me for the better, no?” he flips the yearbook pages, finding his picture in the sea of others.

“maybe you changed me,” you say lowly.

“aww, come on pete, lay off him will you?” flash thompson laughs. “nah, he’s too easy,” peter replies. they had been roaming the halls, cutting class to smoke a joint. since peter was out early, he figured meeting you once your class period was over would be fun, high sex in the bathroom stalls was on his bucket list after all, and you never told him no when it came down to a good time.

in the midst of both flash and peter roaming the halls, they had ran into miguel o’hara, clutching his books in his hands during his free period, roaming the halls like them. nudging flash in his shoulder, peter made a show of miguel. he had pushed him into the lockers, feigning accident. miguel hit the rusted metal with a thud, dropping his books in the process.

“oh, did i bump you? my deepest apologies,” peter mocks, flash not even trying to hide his smile. miguel looks up from his place on the ground between the two, rubbing his shoulder that hit the locker. not worth it, he thinks, and moves to reach one of his books. before he can grab it, peter kicks it across the hall. miguel’s eyes stay focused on the ground. “aww, what happened? you got butterfingers, o’hara?” flash laughs.

“pick up your fuckin’ books, you’re blocking the hall,” peter directs towards miguel. miguel stays unmoved, pushing his glasses up his nose, eyes still glued to the floor. peters angry, feeling disrespected. “hey,” he says, and the hostility beginning to bubble in his voice is clear. “you fuckin’ deaf or what? i said pick up for fuckin-”

“the fuck is going on here?” you interrupt, seeing peter and flash freeze for a split second. you had left a while ago to go to the bathroom and skip class, but had decided to stop by your lockers, where you found peter and flash bullying some random.

“hey, baby,” peter begins. your eyebrow raises and he drops the act. “we uh- we were just tryna help h-”

“can it. i can smell the pot off you guys, fuckin’ gross. get outta here before you get caught with no hall pass,” you dismiss both peter and flash. peter makes way to kiss you goodbye but you move your head, your eyes telling him to get the fuck on.

when both peter and flash are long gone down the hall, you turn to miguel. “hey,” you say. he finally looks up at you and you see tears welling in his eyes. you wince, and wordlessly kick his book back to him. watching him gather up his books is almost disheartening, usually you laugh at something this pathetic. your feelings get the better of you, so you walk to miguel and buy your hand on his chin, lifting his head up to look at you. the eye contact sends a weird feeling in your chest, his tear stained brown eyes filled with emotion.

“chin up, dweeb,” you say, touching the tip of his nose and winking at him before you get up and leave, off to see what trouble peter found himself in.

miguel is in shock. that’s the first time he’s ever been talked to by someone popular. a popular girl at that. miguel looks back at your figure walking away, hips swaying with determination and he feels his heart swell in his chest.

“you gettin all sappy on me now, baby?” miguel quips. “funny. you must have forgotten what to address me as. i’ve been too nice to you,” you reply, your gaze intense. miguel swallows and his whole demeanour changes. “i didn’t forget, mistress,” he replies. you smile, getting up from the couch, pulling miguel up by his shirt to follow you.

“that’s my good boy.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel atsv #sub miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara imagine #you’ve got mail💌#<nerd!miguel3

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suzukiblu · 5 months

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currently having EMOTIONS abt your 'Billy adopts kon and it goes p good actually'. Billy's there just like oh man I'm rambling they're gonna think I'm so lame...meanwhile I as a reader (and presumably also Kon and possibly the other characters present??) are actually going 'oh my god. oh my god he's known Kon for like one singular minute and already arranged a flat according to his best predictions of Kon's needs/wants, gave Kon FIRST PICK OF BEDROOM, and has freely offered to learn how to cook AND how to drive for the sole purpose of taking better care of Kon'. like. oh my god. oh my god. Billy is so precious and I want to give him a hug. I hope Kon isn't too overwhelmed or suspicious due to Billy's enthusiasm tho lmao. (pls could there be..more? more Billy adopts kon, if possible?) anyway I love ur writing. thank you. idk how to ask from a sidelong but this is tryingahandinholdingapen btw :D

I gotchu, friend, lol. @tryingahandinholdingapen But yeah I love a good unreliable narrator, one way or the other it's just so fun peppering in all the bits of "the actual situation that the narrator is oblivious to", hahaha.

Rich people are weird, Billy decides, then sets the swiss rolls and zebra cakes and rest of the strawberry shortcakes on the counter in case Kid Flash is still hungry or Superboy wants any of them and closes the pantry. Batman’s just doing his best, he guesses. Though Billy hopes he knows how to coupon, if he’s always buying brand-name.

Well, he’s Batman. It’d be weirder if he didn’t know how to coupon, Billy figures.

It looks like Superboy ate all of his snack cake while Billy and Kid Flash were in the pantry, at least, which Billy hopes means he liked it. He doesn’t know how much real food Superboy’s had, but Batman’d said he should be fine eating solid stuff and not just whatever he’d been getting in his cloning pod. Though Billy’d still asked if they could get some bottled smoothies and protein shakes and stuff like that to keep in the fridge, just in case. He figured those might be easier for him to eat and digest, if it came up. Or like, maybe appeal to him more, if nothing else?

Billy has no idea, honestly, he’s just doing his best here. The wisdom of Solomon is pretty useful but it’s not really, like, that much of a parenting guide.

He is not going to cut Superboy in half. Like, ever. Like he understands the idea of that story but also it is an insane and incredibly freaky story and he is just not invoking it, ever. Just no way.

“If it’s alright, Captain, we should get going. We’ve got a bit of a drive to get home,” Mrs. West says, then sighs as Kid Flash empties the boxes of swiss rolls and zebra cakes in lightning-fast succession, though he leaves the strawberry shortcakes alone. Billy checks in the fridge and offers him a couple of the more filling smoothies–peanut butter and banana should be more filling, anyway, even with a speedster’s appetite. He steals those from convenience stores sometimes, when he can. He can’t be Captain Marvel all the time.

Well–maybe he could, he guesses. But he does miss being himself, sometimes.

“Thanks, man,” Kid Flash says eagerly, then immediately shotguns both smoothies.

“Wally,” Mr. West says in exasperation as Mrs. West sighs again. “Don’t eat Captain Marvel out of house and home.”

“It’s okay, we’ve got lots of food!” Billy promises cheerfully. “I work with Flash, I know how hungry he gets. I bet it’s way worse when you still have growth spurts to get through.”

“It is so much worse,” Kid Flash mutters vehemently, eyeing the empty smoothie bottles in his hands accusingly. Billy gets him another peanut butter banana one on principle. He really doesn’t want Kid Flash to be that hungry. It’s . . . not a good feeling.

“We appreciate it, Captain, really, but we’ve got snacks and a cooler in the car,” Mrs. West says.

“Oh, good,” Billy says, relieved. Mr. and Mrs. West both give him strange, inscrutable looks, then glance back to Superboy. Billy wonders if he likes peanut butter banana smoothies. Though if he liked the snack cakes, there’s strawberry banana ones too, so that might be better? And strawberry kiwi, but that’s probably less filling. “Superboy, do you want a smoothie too?”

“No,” Superboy says. Billy pauses again, then gets him a strawberry banana one and tosses it over. Superboy catches it, eyes it, and then opens it and takes a sip.

Okay, Billy thinks he’s getting the hang of this. But also they should probably talk about how “no” needs to actually mean “no”. Like, for Superboy he’s sure it’s just like that phase when toddlers want to say “no” to everything no matter what, but it’s still important for him to understand. Billy doesn’t want to accidentally upset him or overstep because Superboy doesn’t know how to really say “no” to something.

Yeah, they definitely need to talk about that, he decides.

#tryingahandinholdingapen #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good!#long post

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delulujuls · 5 months

Text

snackin' | gr63, lh44

i know halloween was a little ago but i came across this one imagine where george was a vampire and i couldnt stop myself from writing something with him in this role too. so sharpen ur teefs and bon appetit!

summary: the night of drunk confessions turned to be a little bit more surprising that expected

warnings: not too much of explaining this unusual condition, nothing too visual and gory tho

pairing: george russell x fem!mercdriver x lewis hamilton

"C'mon, play it again, please!"

Y/N wiped tears from her cheeks, feeling her stomach ache from laughter.

"You definitely rap better than you drive, mate" George said, taking a sip of wine and glancing at Lewis with feigned seriousness.

Lewis sighed, shaking his head and played again the song in which he managed to make an appearance.

As soon as the part with him appeared, Y/N and George took his phone, using the displayed lyrics and tried to rap along with the song, eliciting a smile from Lewis.

"You guys are too predictable."

"Come on, Lewis, live performance! For the most loyal fans!"

Y/N directed the wine bottle towards him as if it were a microphone. Hamilton couldn't stop the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He took the bottle from her and took a sip before leaning towards her phone, rapping once again, which of course was met with cheers and applause from his friends.

It was an early Saturday evening and the three friends were spending it together in a hotel room. The weather outside was cold and rainy, so instead of conquering the city, the Mercedes drivers decided to spend the pre-race evening in each other's company and with perfectly chilled wine.

When the song ended, Y/N handed the phone back to the man and sighed heavily, taking her glass.

"I have to admit, that was quite surprising."

"Believe me, I was shocked too when you said you couldn't tie your shoes until you were fourteen" Lewis replied, glancing at her.

"I agree, I thought you were at least a bit smarter than a goldfish" George added, earning a playful punch in the side.

"I'm curious with what you will shine, Georgie boy" she replied, raising an eyebrow. Silence fell for a moment as two pairs of eyes focused on the guy.

George pretended to ponder, but since the topic of confessions began, he knew exactly what he wanted to finally tell his friends. It was something slightly more serious than taking a part in a song or a belated ability to tie shoelaces.

He looked at his friends, at their slightly alcohol-distracted gazes and faint smiles playing on their faces. He knew these people for a long time; they were very close to him and he knew he could come to them with anything. So, he decided it was high time to be honest with them. Because that's what friends do, right?

"I'm a vampire" George threw this fact into the air as if they were discussing the weather.

Both Lewis and Y/N snorted, not taking his words seriously.

"Yeah, and Lewis is an eight-time world champion."

"Hey, cut it out" Lewis pointed a finger at her "But yeah man, that's a bullshit"

"In this matter, you're predictable too."

George sighed, taking another sip from his glass. He wasn't surprised by their reaction in any way though.

"No, no, go on, we're all ears. I'm just curioius why did you bring up such a topic in this state? I guess none of us is drunk after two bottles of wine, right?" Y/N said, pouring more wine into her glass.

"I'm saying this completely sober. I want to get it off my chest and know that I have no secrets from you" he admitted, looking at them. Both Lewis and Y/N became a bit more serious. Not that they believed in the nonsense he was currently saying, but the smiles disappeared from their faces.

"What do you mean by saying you're a vampire?" the girl asked, looking at him more focused.

George knew that no matter what he said, his words wouldn't replace any tangible actions.

"Can you take the bandage off your hand?" Russell asked, nodding towards her bandaged hand, which covered an unfortunate cut from a metal band she got on the track the previous day.

Y/N looked at him and remained motionless for a moment. After a few seconds, however, she began to unwind her bandage. When she finished, George reached out to her. She hesitantly handed him her hand. He gently grabbed the bandage and peeled it off, revealing a sizable, still fresh cut.

George closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling how his lungs filled with the sweet scent of the girl's blood. As his fangs shifted into feeding mode, he simply smiled. Upon seeing his teeth, Y/N quickly withdrew her hand and covered her mouth with her hands.

"Oh, fuck me."

Lewis was in shock no less than the girl, but neither of them moved an inch from the bed.

"Are you kidding us, right?"

Y/N struggled to shift her gaze from his teeth to his eyes and just as she doubted her friend's words for a moment, seeing his darkened irises made her realize that he probably wasn't joking.

"Talking about being a vampire is a pretty lame joke and frankly I think I could afford something better" George replied and finished his drink.

"Besides, I don't even know why I would bother fooling you with something like that."

The remaining two sat in shock, unsure of what to say. They weren't even sure if George was joking, but they could admit he had a point - why would he joke about this in the first place?

"Okay, let's assume you're actually a vampire," Y/N began, grabbing the bottle and not bothering to pour its contents into her glass. "Then why do you function normally in the sun? You eat and drink normal things too, right?"

"I admit, I thought it would be like that and at first I was scared shitless," George replied, reaching for the glass she filled. "But what you mentioned is total myths. Basically, everything I knew about vampires turned out to be total bullshit."

"What do you mean by that?"

Lewis furrowed his brow, listening attentively.

"I can function normally during the day; I just have to remember sunscreen because I can easily burn. I'm a bit more sensitive to sunlight, so most of the time I need to wear sungl-"

"No, that's bullshit, you wear them because you roar after every race, not because you're a vampire," Y/N shook her head, taking another sip of alcohol.

"I won't insist that it's different, but oversensitivity to light also plays a role in this," George explained. He was ready to dispel any doubts his friends had, just to make them feel comfortable and to ensure that their relationship didn't deteriorate.

"What about eating? You still eat everything normally, even right now we're drinking together" Lewis interjected, taking a sip from his glass.

"Yeah, that's another myth. I can eat and drink normal human food, but it doesn't satisfy my hunger. I can eat and eat and I'm still like a bottomless pit," he admitted "Once, Alex and I recorded a stream where we had a bet on who could eat more at McDonald's. I don't think I need to tell you who won."

"So, you eat only to-"

"To avoid raising any suspicions, yes" George nodded. He knew that the tougher part of the story was yet to come.

"So, how do you satisfy your hunger? I guess not with protein bars, right?" Y/N asked rhetorically.

"That's no longer a myth, I feed like all those pop-culture-created vampires" George explained.

"Do you kill people?" Lewis asked quietly. Not because he was afraid, but because he was worried about his friend. He knew that the only one in danger was George because he would never harm anyone. Not as a human, not as a vampire either.

George laughed and shook his head. "No, I don't kill people. Unless you count killing them with my looks, but that's a different story."

"So, what does this... process look like?" Y/N looked at him. Neither of them registered the moment when this conversation stopped being perceived as a joke and became one of the most serious conversations they've ever had.

"It looks like in the movies, but it's less dramatic. I don't know about other... ones of my kind, but I think I look fairly neat afterward."

"So, people are like walking Capri Suns for you?"

George laughed at his friend's original comparison and nodded.

"Yeah, that's more or less how it looks."

"And now? Are you hungry?"

Lewis asked. He was surprisingly calm and not worried, all he was just curious.

"Today is still fine, but I know I'll have to snack on something after the race tomorrow."

"Who do you feed on? How does it even happen? And most importantly, who knows about all this?" Y/N had too many questions and with each passing second more emerged, making the situation not any easier. "Holy shit, our friend is a vampire."

"You met Carmen, right?" George asked, to which both friends nodded. "She's my feeder, if I can call it that directly. The whole facade of a relationship is a pretty good and strong cover, as you can tell."

"Are you telling me that you're not a couple? Are you kidding?"

Y/N was even more shocked than hearing that his dear friend was a bloodsucker.

"Wow, you took this more seriously than the fact that a literal vampire is sitting next to you."

George pretended to be outraged, but continued anyway.

"Carmen is very close to me and is a wonderful person, but our relationship is more of an exchange transaction."

"Goddamn, it's just getting better and better."

Lewis laughed and reached for more wine, knowing that more alcohol would be useful for this conversation.

"So, Carmen is your walking Capri Sun, not bad."

Y/N sighed and handed Lewis her glass, grabbing the hotel phone and ordering a few more bottles of wine. It looked like it was going to be a long night.

The conversation among friends on this rather unusual topic flowed freely; it probably looked the same as if George had admitted that he sometimes talks in his sleep or that he kissed his cousin at the aunt's wedding. The friends accepted this news much better than George expected. He was genuinely happy that their reaction didn't foreshadow the end of their friendship.

"I'm convinced that Lewis tastes like chocolate milk."

Y/N declared, pointing with the glass she held towards Lewis. The trio was already quite drunk, but nothing indicated that they would part ways soon.

"I'm not sure how racially sensitive that was," Hamilton also took a sip from his glass.

"I think in both cases you'd be tasty. You guys have a good diet so nothing suggests it could be otherwise," George admitted, lying on his side and propping himself up with his hand.

"If you want, I can be your Capri Sun" the girl offered, looking at her friend.

"That's probably the most wholesome thing you've said to me lately."

George giggled, genuinely touched.

"I'm here for you too, George" Lewis said, looking at him. "And I do really hope that I taste like chocolate milk."

#f1 imagines #f1 one shot #f1 oneshots #f1 #formula 1 #george russell #george russell x reader #gr63 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader x lewis hamilton #lh44

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myouicieloz · 7 months

Text

A little help

Aeri Uchinaga x aespa5thmember! reader

Synopsis: You’ve been stressed from your group’s tour: so many shows and planes have been tiring you off. Thankfully you have an special bandmate to help you with that.

Giselle helps you use Ning’s vibrator.

Warnings: smut, dirty talk ?, gets kinda rough ?, mentions of blood — reader is a virgin, nsfw. dom!giselle x sub!reader.

Word count: 3.2k

Notes: I MIGHT (like 85% might) rewrite this bc I fucking hated it. It’s too repetitive, I think. But I wanted to post it anyway so enjoy I guess xx. Not checking for any errors tho ˆˆ muah. I’ll try to improve for next time!! write something new, perhaps. We’ll see.

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

“Ning let me have it.” You display the sparkly green vibrator in front of Giselle, showing off the horrible thing to her as if it were your most prized possession. “She said she doesn’t need it anymore now that she has her girlfriend’s long ass fingers.”

Giselle dropped her phone, finally giving you the attention you wanted.

“She did not say that.” She snatched the toy out of your hands, and you let yourself fall in her bed, scoffing.

“Ok, she didn’t say that, exactly, but she did let me keep it.” You looked at her with sparkly eyes, giggling with excitement. “Will you help me try it? The shows are killing me, and I’ve been dying to use it the whole week.”

Giselle stopped staring at the thing with disgust, looking at you instead. “Why didn’t you?” She asked, curiously.

“Why didn’t I what?” You frowned at her question, too busy with your phone: Karina was asking if you wanted to go swimming later. The Uchinaga grabbed your phone, throwing it away to the other side of her big bed. “Hey!” You protested, shooting her a hard glance.

“Why didn’t you use it, then, if you were dying to all week?” She repeated herself, already feeling her core heatening up. Specially when you refused to look at her in the eyes, shrugging weakly.

“Because you know best.” You answered shyly, remembering her words from the dorm, on the other day. “Right?”

Giselle’s eyes darkened, and she stood her hand for you to take, guiding you to the middle of the bed. She smirked, perhaps a bit too wickedly, caressing your long hair until her fingers ran out of length.

“Right, of course.”

You caught yourself looking at her eagerly, hands on your sides to see what she’d do, following her lead towards the center of the bed.

Sure, you could be in your room, pleasuring yourself, but you’ve tried to — too many times, and none of them felt as good as the pleasure you’ve had with Giselle’s fingers. Also, you two were friends, right? And it was just sex, as she’d said it before. Nothing changed between you after that day at the dorm, so surely nothing would change now. You just needed a little help.

She was still only staring at you, which made you look away, feeling your face start to get red.

“Aren’t you going to do anything?” You mumbled, impatient and embarrassed to have her focus solemn on you.

“You need to undress first, Yn.” She said, giggling. You pouted, knowing you were still too shy to do it, but she cut you off before you could whine. “Don’t you want me to help? I can’t do it if you’re still so full of layers.” Giselle gestured to your clothes. Seeing how you still made no move to take them off, she got closer, tapping the hems of your top. “Come on, Yn. We’ve been past this. You have a beautiful body, ok? Stunning, even. And I want to see you.”

Her words helped you gain a little more confidence, and you really wanted to get yourself off, so you quickly removed your top and your shorts, panties following with much more ease than last time. Your bandmate’s hands went straight to your breasts, pinching your nipples slightly as she checked for your reaction, grinning when she was met with the sound of your moans.

“N-no teasing.” You told her as Giselle’s mouth went straight to one of your breasts, her other hand massaging the neglected one with a squeeze.

“But your tits are so pretty, Yn.” She praised, mouth leaving your chest with a trail of saliva in her mouth. She cleaned it off, reveling herself with how hungry you looked at her eyes.

Giselle had waited, eagerly, for you to come back to her, not wanting to make things awkward or to have you uncomfortable in the slightest. You were friends and bandmates, most importantly, and she wouldn’t trade that for any sex in the world.

So when you showed up with that horrid green thing in your hands, Giselle already knew she’d have a handful, having to remind herself to take things slow; you were still too naive, and she’d teach you just right, without rushing anything.

But fuck her if you staring at her with your big, doe eyes full of lust didn’t nearly make her lose it all and straight up fuck you until you were crying and begging for her to stop.

You pushed yourself further to face her front, so close you could feel her breathing, too. It was fast, erratic, and it made you smile to know you riled her up as much as she did to you. Your fingers caressed her arms, pleading with your sweetest voice. “I want to see you too, Unnie. Pretty please? You didn’t let me last time.” You reminded her, making Giselle laugh and distance herself to take her clothes off, this time.

“Your reward for asking so sweetly, then.” She said, winking at you as you took her in. She was beautiful, almost alluringly so, and it made you salivate at the thought of making her shudder, too. However, you knew she wouldn’t allow that to happen now, so you let yourself be pulled back to the big pillows of the bed as Giselle reached for the green toy, pressing it on the lowest mode.

You can’t seem to take your eyes off her as she spat onto her hand, bringing it to your pussy as her saliva is spread in your slit, humming in delight as it mixes it with your growing wetness. It makes you moan loudly, reaching for her to get a glimpse of her touch, her skin—anything. She was still focused, though, toying with you as she grins.

“So soaked already, baby? But we’ve barely started playing.” You mumbled something entirely incoherent, closing your eyes as you felt her fingers teasing in, two of them circling you up and down. She rubbed a few circles on your clit before entering sloppily, the sounds of it echoing through the room with your moans.

You felt a light tug on your hair, but Giselle’s mouth was soon all over your collarbone. Before you could even complain, she was sucking and marking your skin, your moans escalating with each passing moment. As much as you love to have her mouth on you— and God, you love it so much, you need more, and it doesn’t take much to make you into a pleading mess. You mutter pleases and mores until the words from your mouth make no sense to your brain anymore: all you can think is how hot your skin feels, and how slow Giselle’s fingers are working on you.

“Do you need something else, pup?” The older girl asks, looking at you greedily as you whine.

Of course, Giselle knows exactly what you want, what you need. You reached out to her asking for it, after all. Yet, she will still make you beg.

Her nose brushes your ear as she takes her fingers out of you completely now, making her busy with spreading your wetness all over your abdomen. “You look… restless. If you want something, you just have to say it, you know? I promise I’ll give it to you.”

She’s mean, and you so desperately want to smack that sneaky grin out of her face. However, her humid fingers are pinching your nipples, and the curses slip from your thoughts. Your mind is clouded by the urge of surrendering to her, so she’ll give what you so desperately want as fast as possible.

“I w-want.” You try to say, but she’s sucking on your sensitive breasts once again, already so sensitive from her teasing before and— “Oh, fuck! Please…”

“I do need more than just pleases, though.” Her strong hands squeezed your boobs, making you let out a low growl. It was painful, but how come it felt so good? You couldn’t master the feeling. “Say it, and it’s yours. What do you want, Yn?” She indulged, loving to see your reactions.

You were too spoiled for your own good. Being the maknae had its privileges, you’d say. The girls— all of them, often showered you with praises and presents, taking extra care to do whatever you asked them to. Wether it was to fetch some water later at night because you hated to get through the dark hallway of the dorm to go to the kitchen; or changing a step in the new choreography because you felt too silly doing it, and it made you uncomfortable; they’d spoil you rotten: you’d never have to say the same thing twice. Just think about it, and it was done for you.

Naturally, Giselle making you beg made you restless. It made you hate yourself, too, with how wet you got from her making you do it— humiliate yourself for her. How much you loved to be completely at her mercy.

“I want the, f-fuck. You to fuck me with the vibrator. Now.” She lifted an eyebrow at your impatient tone, but you held her gaze with defiance.

“Forgetting our manners, are we?” Giselle asked, gripping your chin as she muttered against your breath. “Do I have to let you do it yourself, then? If you’re so sure of it?”

“No!” You pleaded, all the confidence gone from your tone as you held her, to keep her from going away. “Please, please fuck me, unnie. You know it feels better when you do it.” The older girl laughs as you try to use all your strength to pull her in. “I can take it, I swear. I’ve been p-practicing.”

Giselle’s eyes went dark again, and she cocked her head at you.

“What do you mean by practicing?” She was no longer touching you now. It was almost painful to not have her on you, and you already missed the sensation of your skin on fire, all red, bruised and filled with her saliva. “Have you been touching yourself without me, Yn?” Her tone was harsh, and it made you recoil a bit at her coldness, stuttering as you whispered.

“Maybe?” Her touch was back, thankfully, though slightly different from before. It was decisive, intense—almost rasp, the way her hands squeezed your hips, your thighs, your arms, no longer caring about not leaving marks or scratches on your tanned skin. You were sure there was a big pool of wetness on the sheets, and she hadn’t even used the damn toy on you yet.

God, she was so hot like this, handling you the way she wanted to.

“We will have none of that, baby.” She announced, suckling— no, biting on your neck harshly before retreating to grab the vibrator. “I’m just going to have to teach you the hard way, then.”

It certainly shouldn’t arouse you that much.

You watched eagerly as Giselle positioned the vibrator against your cunt, biting her lip at the sight of you: hair clinging onto your back, skin marked in bruises, with your beautiful chest moving up and down fast from excitement.

“I still don’t think you can take it, though.” She told you as she entered the tip of the toy on your slit. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make you wince at the discomfort.

You did want this, though. You wanted more.

“I want this. Please.” You reminded her, trying to push yourself, so it’d reach deeper. Giselle immediately gripped your hips, stopping you from moving. “I can take it, I promise.”

She compelled to your wishes, positioning herself a bit higher so she could start thrusting on you. It did hurt, and you winced. She went slow at first, kissing your neck as her muttered praises against your skin, nibbling her teeth through the skin.

“Don’t tense, baby. Just take deep breaths for me, okay?” She asked as you nodded, slowly soaking in with each thrust. She kept the toy a little deeper with each passing time, and soon your groans were replaced with moans of pleasure. It still burned, but the combo of her soothing your skin and the repeated movements made you cry for more.

“More, please.” You said, bucking your hips, so she’d speed her rhythm. When Giselle didn’t, you grabbed her wrist, forcing the vibrator against your cunt, hoping it’d reach deeper. Your erratic movements, however, made her nails immediately dig into your thighs.

Shortly, she switched back, her other hand brushing your neck teasingly as she opened a dangerous smirk.

“Do you want to do this on your own? Since you’re so eager to take the lead yourself.” Your bandmate asked, her cocky tone matching the way she looked down on you. It wasn’t a sight you were used to, being taller than her and constantly towering over the older girl, but it aroused you just the same.

You simply denied, being slapped on your thighs in response. “Words, Yn.”

“N-no.”

“No, what?”

“I want you to d-do it for me.” you placed wet kisses on her neck, a whiny mess. “Please, Unnie. Please make me cum.”

And just like that, the green piece was positioned on your slit again, making you shudder.

Giselle thrusted the toy all the way in, making you scream as you gasped for air. Her eyes were trained on your pussy, adjusting herself, so she’d give your clit attention, too. It was too fast for you, with the pleasure building up in quick waves down your abdomen.

“Wait! It’s too mu-“ You tried to say, but Giselle locked her lips on yours with hunger. She licked your lips sloppily, not once motioning to listen to your pleadings.

“Wait for what?” she mocked your tone, wasting no time pushing the dildo all the way in. “You said you could take it, right? That you were ready?” her pupils were blown, and she had a wicked grin on her face—if you weren’t so focused on getting your breath and adjusting to the pain of being stretched, you’d notice how much she was enjoying herself. God, she loved to have this power over you. Of how you were so quick to beg, completely on her mercy, ready to do whenever she wanted you to. “So take it.”

Giselle kept marking you, alternating between kissing your lips and leaving hickeys on your neck— like you weren’t on tour and wearing such revealing outfits lately. “You should see yourself like this, Yn.” She murmured as her fingers circled your clit roughly, applying trained pressure and making you feel sure you’d go crazy at any given moment. You rolled your eyes, drunk with all the different sensations. “So pretty, doing so good.” The praise grounded you, making you hum as you clung onto her, lifting your back from the cushions, so you’d be even closer.

You felt the pleasure completely overcome you, making you scratch Giselle’s back without thinking about being gentle, either.

“I’m going to c-cum.” You announced, hoping she wouldn’t try to make you wait. You wouldn’t be able to, since your orgasm quickly overcame you, along with the strange sensation of having to pee straight away. It didn’t help that your bandmate hadn’t stopped thrusting, either. If only, she’d resumed her movements to slow thrusts, making sure to twist and play with the green toy however she saw fit.

“Beautiful.” It was the only thing she said, and it was making you crazy that she wouldn’t stop. With her eyes trained on your body, she saw the way your abdomen was still fast in its movements, trying to match your heavy breathing.

You mumbled, scooping her as you felt Giselle take the toy away from your pussy to place herself next to you. She knew how needy you got after you came, so the girl quickly gathered you in her arms as she kissed your hair, murmuring praises and sweet things to you.

“M’ tired.” You told her, even though you knew you had to get yourself cleaned up.

“I know, baby. I’ll help you, though. You won’t have to do much.” She grabbed a great piece of your hair— which was drenched in sweat, moving it away from your sweaty body.

Her words made you giggle. You specially liked when she took care of you, even more in moments like these, although it still made you reluctant to accept her help. “I can do it by myself, Unnie. It’s ok.” You assured her, staring at her adorable pout.

It amused you how quickly she would switch on those situations.

“Of course you can.” Giselle blushed, suddenly shy. Her tone was hesitant as she continued, her fingers lightly tracing your collarbone, still all red and coated with her dry saliva. “It doesn’t mean you should, though. You’re tired, and probably very sore. Let me, please? I can even give you that massage you’ve been whining so much to get.” She offered, and you took a moment to think about it.

It wasn’t the wisest decision, to be this close after such an intimate moment, specially when the two of you had a silent agreement to make it just about sex. About pleasure.

But you were tired, sore, and needy, so you allowed yourself to be held by Giselle as she took you to the bathtub, washing you up and changing the messy, bloodied sheets before you nested yourself on her million cushions.

“Just this once.” You told her, crawling towards the middle of her bed with wet hair and one of her silk pajamas — the ones you loved and Giselle always hid, so you wouldn’t steal from her.

The message was clear: no attachments, just friendship and sex. It was as simple as daylight.

As if any of you could have a clear idea over whatever your silent agreement was.

Giselle nodded, cuddling you as she turned the tv on, scrolling over Netflix for the drama she had been watching lately.

“Sure.” She said, although her tone bore a bit of mockery as she watched you besides her, eyes closed and a peaceful look on your face, as if you hadn’t gotten railed like crazy earlier. “Just this once.” She repeated herself, in a low tone.

You slept soundly for the first time in days.

“I messaged Karina, by the way.” You heard her say, moments before you drifted off. “Told her you weren’t feeling so good, so you’d skip the pool.”

You scoffed, mumbling with closed eyes.

“I wanted to go swimming, though.” You felt Giselle poke your ribs, and you tried your best not to laugh, pretending you were mad at her. “Kill joy.”

“I should just let her knock on your door, then, since you always close it properly.” She teased, making you flutter your eyes open, embarrassed.

“You wouldn’t!”

She laughed soundly, loving to mock you. “Oh, Y/n. I would.”

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lucrezianoin · 4 months

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Wyll and Astarion banter (2/2)

Collection of banter between Wyll and Astarion (you can find part 1 here). In case I will add more in the future I will use the tag "wyllstarion banter".

This one has a lot of dialogues I literally never heard of, so I wonder if some of them are not in game anymore (tho they are act 3 specific).

Astarion: I hardly saw you at the party. Did the honest and true Blade sneak off for a little fun? Wyll: No! Nothing like that at all. Astarion: Oh, but you protest too much. Now I know you were practicing your swordplay.

---

Wyll: Ah - the memories. The Blushing Mermaid's where fifteen-year-old Wyll snuck his first kiss. Astarion: You didn't kiss anyone until you were fifteen? Gods, what a tragic, sheltered life... Wyll: Sheltered? Not at all. I was exposed to all manner of riot and revelry. Hells, my father even urged me on once or twice. But I've always been a bit old-fashioned on these matters. I find more pleasure in a courtly dance than a loveless fling.

---

Astarion: I lived two centuries in this city, but it can still surprise me. Wyll: Baldur's Gate harbours many a secret. Even the longest-lived explorers have yet to uncover them all. Speaking of - what were you getting up to all those years? Astarion: Let's not get into details. If Baldur's Gate can have its secrets, so can I.

---

Wyll: Astarion, I was wrong about you. Truly wrong about you. Astarion: Let me guess - you thought I'd suck blood, but actually I just suck? Was that your witty jab? (devnote: a little tired of Wyll's bullshit) Wyll: No, I mean it. There's little between us we share. But you've fallen in love and stood by your lover. That is something this dreamer's heart can appreciate.

(this is a spawn astarion romanced dialogue)

---

(more under cut)

Astarion: Well, it's no Baldur's Gate, but at least it's some kind of civilisation. Wyll: I do miss the Gate, though. The Elfsong Tavern! Sunset over Grey Harbour! Fried fish at the docks! Astarion: Drunk young patriars, naked in the fountains! Ah, civilisation... (note: whistfully)

---

Wyll: Finally, we're approaching Moonrise Towers. Astarion: Nothing escapes the Blade of Frontiers' keen senses, I see. Wyll: Mock me all you want, Astarion. We could use a little comic relief. Astarion: Yes, that's why I'm mocking you - to keep our spirits up. No other reason...

---

Astarion: You know, I've never seen this place in the daylight before. Wyll: I always loved this park. Spent a lot of time here as a boy battling imaginary monsters. Astarion: Oh, I was going to say it looks wretched. The dark hid all the kitschy details.

---

Wyll: Astarion, I just want to say - I judged you wrongly. I'm sorry. Astarion: Really? And how - specifically - have you misjudged my fine character? Wyll: You aren't actually insufferably randy. You're just insufferable.

---

Astarion: Marriage, Wyll? I thought you'd have learned not to get trapped by devious contracts. Wyll: I was planning to invite you to the ceremony, but I'm having second thoughts. Astarion: I'd love to come! As long as I can sit with someone fun. Mizora, perhaps?

---

Wyll: I'd watch yourself, my friend. I don't know if our pale rogue has anything good in his heart, or even a scrap of it left for you. Astarion: Excuse me? That's just mean - we're all adults here. Wyll: Your heart's cold as ice, Astarion. I'm just making sure no one slips and gets hurt.

---

Wyll: As much love as I hold for Baldur's Gate, these frontiers delight me as much as any bustling street. Astarion: You can't be serious? This is a howling wasteland! I haven't even had a bath since the abduction. I must reek of ilithid slime. Wyll: Sure, but think of the stories you'll be able to tell.

---

Shadowheart: So. A vampire spawn and a monster hunter in the same group. We're not going to have trouble, are we? Astarion: Excuse me? Since this tadpole, I'm barely a monster at all. I just want to survive, same as you. Wyll: I don't see a problem, as long as mister fang there keeps his appetite in check.

---

Astarion: A question for our master monster hunter: how would you approach killing a vampire? Wyll (he knows Astarion is a vampire): A full-on vamp, you mean? Lure it into the sun, drive a stake through its heart. And that's not the end of it. The suckers are wily. No offence. Astarion: None taken. Wiliness keeps me alive. More or less.

Wyll (he doesn't know Astarion is a vampire): To start? Lure it into the sun, drive a stake through its heart. Why? Astarion: Just curious.

---

(this is about the Moonrise Oubliette)

Astarion: Admittedly, I don't care for most people, but this is a terrible waste. (note: referring to all the wasted blood) Wyll: Because their lives were cut brutally short, you mean. Astarion: I - ... yes, that. That's clearly what I was referring to. (note: pretending he wasn't referring to all the wasted blood)

#wyllstarion #bloodpact #wyll ravengard #wyll #astarion #wyllstarion banter

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thewinchestah · 2 months

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Strawberry Fields (sonhei com campos de morango) - Alastor X Reader fic

Summary: On a dreadful night, Alastor goes to collect one of his contracts. Something goes terribly wrong. He finds you.

Warnings: fem!reader, Human!reader, smut, 18+, period sex, overstimulation, light cannibalism, blood, A LOT OF BLOOD, general creeppiness, Alastor is in hell for a reason, oral sex, alastor kind of hunts reader down, possessive!Alastor

A/N: Soooo!! This was a long time coming but here it is. This idea has been on my mind for a long time now and I wanted to test the waters before i commit to a long fic. I hope you guys like it, i'm kinda on the fence about it. I'm working on the requests and they should be out soon I PROMISEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Also I got a little carried away, i'm sorry. Hope you guys enjoy it. It's always a pleasure to write for you. The visuals and the title for this fic are heavily inspire by this music video. Not the lyrics tho, i always felt like the singer did a poor job with this concept and i wanted to do it justice.

Taglist: @markster666@jyoongim@stygianoir @pepperycookie@fraspent @aether-th3-enby @lady-valtieri @karolinda007-blog @jesi-pinkman@polytheatrix If the tags aren’t working or you wanna be tagged, let me know.

You curse when another sharp stone cuts your feet.

You regret it a second later when you hear the ominous sounds that reverberate through the trees. They are closing in on you.

You don’t know how you got here, you just know now you are running for your life inside these woods now. The only guiding light, a full moon that looks weirdly otherworldly.

Adrenaline burns inside your bloodstream, the forest seems devoid of any living thing. It’s only you and whoever is chasing you. You wish you could hear gunshots, you wish you could hear screams. Anything besides the occasional twig snap or wind caressing the pine trees’ leaves. The eerie silence is deafening, and worse: the eerie silence makes you even more aware of your situation.

It’s incredible how everything gets clearer when you’re about to die.

Maybe you shouldn’t have traveled alone, maybe you shouldn’t have decided to go somewhere where the closest thing to civilization is the village’s old-yet-charming dinner.

You just wanted a little bit of quiet, a place that made introspection inviting. Next time you should go for a beach vacation.

Next time? why does next time sound so… far away? Somehow your feet carry you away from the forest’s well marked path and deeper into the thick vegetation, hiding behind a large tree. You gained a few minutes on them by taking a detour.

Breathe. Remember to breathe.

Right, your mind remembers. You’re being hunted down like prey in the creepy horror film woods, time to focus on surviving again. You can overthink later.

You assess your options: you can keep going into the woods, a deadly game of hide and seek. Zig-zag through the trees, keep them guessing. There’s a good chance you will find wildlife as you go deeper. This could be a problem, it’s too dark to make anything out, an encounter could cause enough of a distraction, you could take advantage of that. Or you could end up mauled. Plus, you are absolutely positive there are bear traps somewhere. If you're gonna die, make your death less dumb. Quite an embarrassing topic of discussion in the afterlife, saying that you died like horror film pretty girls making dumb decisions that you clearly would never make in a situation like that. You just know they are incredible hunters, you need to take them out of their element, expose them.

So yeah, going deeper isn't an option.

Something catches your eye, there’s a big opening in the thick vegetation, there’s a clearing ahead and… sparks? You definitely see a light. You were told by the locals how the population is scattered across acres and acres of practically untouched wilderness, there’s also the park’s rangers stationed on specific places that grant them a visual advantage in case of emergencies. A big clearing is perfect for that. Maybe, just maybe there’s hope.

Of course bolting there will make you terribly exposed, they will know your position all the time, and they can still hunt you hidden by the edge of the trail. Besides there’s no guarantee of what awaits you when you reach the promised land, they could have a partner waiting, there could be nothing at all there. Taking this risk for nothing sounds worse than being lured into a trap. You just have this gut feeling that’s where you should go. Your brain starts to pick the plan apart, this doesn’t sound good. Hesitation can be fatal. But you are all adrenaline and primal flight intistic -

The decision was made for you, you start running again. Taking advantage of the final stretch of cover you still have until you hit the trail again, you take several deep breaths. Oxygen needs to keep coming, so you can make decisions, so your limbs can respond quickly. Your peripheral catches something that’s also running. It’s a stag.

He’s also prey. He’s an omen. He’s your cue.

You leap across some fallen branches and your scratched feet land on the main trial. As soon as you complete your first step you hear movement and hurried voices. They are onto you. “What do we say to the good of death? Not today” you give yourself a pep-talk as you keep running. Maybe thinking this is all fiction will help you survive this, detach yourself from the situation, don’t think about the consequences, just act.

And like that, you don’t stop running. You sing your abcs to focus and stop spiraling. Evolution is truly amazing, the cuts you suffered don’t hurt anymore, precious shooting adrenaline, adrenaline that makes you tunnel vision towards your objective. By now you know where to step, when to dodge, when to slow down and when to go faster. Millennia of sheer force of survival catching up to you.

breathe, remember to breathe.

You inhale a good chunk of oxygen and look ahead. There’s a man on the edge of the tree line and a few meters left. Your mind wants to sing in victory, but you refrain from that, you know better than that it only ends when it’s over-

You’re positively sprinting towards the man right now, like he is your assured salvation. Something inside you screams louder and louder guiding you to him and you follow the sound.

You hear gunshots.

So noooooow they bring out the guns? That’s low.

But that’s a good thing right? If they are shooting they are getting out of time. A single gunshot can take you down and they can smoothly and swiftly carry you away, like it’s a normal hunt. No one will question shooting something they didn’t see getting shot so deep into these woods. But shooting a girl in front of a witness? that’s for amateurs right? So, the man is not a partner you decide.

remember to breathe, you are not breathing.

You are so close now, you see an outstretched hand coming your way only a few more steps

breathe.

You don’t, instead you leap towards your loosely established finish line and take the hand an-

Dirt greets your face as you fall face first into the trail, and you crawl like a zombie that just rose from its grave. You have a collection of new cuts and scrapes now, it hurts and you can’t bite your lip to suppress the pain. Still, you intertwine your fingers with his, your other arm aggressively seeking for leverage, clinging to your flesh lifeline. You blur out a bunch of incoherent things as he effortlessly lifts you up in one swift motion.

“Get behind me, my dear.” he asks. He has a weird voice almost like it leaves something in the air that caresses your skin, an inviting voice nonetheless. You hide yourself inside the crook of his arm, giving you the ability to witness just a little bit of the action there’s about to happen. You never let go of his hand. Your prince charming feels awfully cold.

Alastor waits, rather impatiently, for his clients to arrive. Making a deal with a human is his ticket topside and Hell is still terribly boring, even with the hotel. The Radio Demon was no stranger to contracts with humans, they were a win-win situation. Those who seek him always have a taste for the wicked and deranged, so it’s easy to figure out what they want and twist it for his own benefit. When they inevitably die, be it death by old age or death by occupational hazard, Alastor gets useful men from the moment they manifest in Hell. They always know exactly where they are and why, they are not confused sinners, petty crime or moral crime sinners. They are, most times, skilled killers who take no trouble doing Alastor’s bidding. An accomplished killer in life makes an even better prolific hellish soldier, someone who will continue indulging in their desires without the constraints of society, but eternally tied down by Alastor’s constraints. With the right incentive, they can rise in the ranks and become treasured resources for the overlord. Plus, the camaraderie isn’t all bad. Takes one to know one, they say.

However, humans these days are getting careless, sloppy. This entire display is proof of that, they should be over to kill and cover their tracks alone. The basics, for hell’s sake.

Alastor only takes care of the details. Tampering with some evidence here, getting a victim on the right place at the right time there. The occasional final encouragement to give into the darkness and finally kill, some advice. A self respecting killer should be able to kill and get away with it without the demon’s aid. He’s there for consulting and making sure there are no loose ends.

But never this. Having to intervene in the middle of a kill because his client made a very very big mess that screams “you’re getting caught!” is below him. Amateurs are not worth Alastor's time.

The two men approach the tree line, clearly worked up from the hunt and shocked to see him there. If Alastor is withholding a victim, something went very, very wrong.

“Good night my good fellows!” the greeting leaves his lips in an overly-chirpy tone. Is that static in his voice? Radio static? Is that what’s leaving goosebumps on your skin? The stress and the adrenaline are making you imagine things. You took the “pretend this is all a fantasy and you the main character” too seriously. Because now you are hiding behind Darth Vader’s skirts. That’s impossible, right? right?

“Great.” you can see the sarcasm dripping from one of your aggressors. “You’re here to watch?” the question asked all passive aggressive with an edgy tone. That’s definitely a teenager. What the fuck? you were being chased by a high school kid? This is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, how can a teen pull this off? And you almost died? What? Your mind starts spirling.

Alastor ignores the son, is the father he cares about. They’ve known each other for years now, and he’s underperforming to say the least. He waits for the father to address him, it’s his mess after all. The older man gives his son a stern look and finally breaks the silence.

“Goodnight. We didn’t expect to see you here tonight, to be honest.’”

The second voice is much older. That doesn’t quiet your thoughts at all. Is this a cult initiation thing? Hunting girls down like they are prey? WHY DID YOU TRAVEL TO THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE IN THE FIRST PLACE??? OF COURSE THERE WOULD BE CULTS HERE, DUUUUH. IF I WAS IN A CULT THIS WOULD BE THE PERFECT PLACE TO HIDE. There are so many voices screaming inside your head now, you are shivering. With anger, anticipation, fear. Your inner monologue overrides your brain and you are not sure you can cope with everything that’s going on. The voices, all the voices, sound wrong. They land weirdly inside your ear and you need to think hard to understand the words, you know how crucial every piece of information is. They could make all the difference when you talk to the police. They could help a conviction when you are on the stand, giving your official statement. You are surviving this. You are going to watch these fuckers get life in prision or worse. You are surviving this right? There’s so much you haven’t thought through. Whose hand are you holding again?

“Oh please. Don’t act all coy now, it doesn’t suit you old friend” Alastor is starting to cross the line from nuisance to anger. He twirls his microphone in annoyance, and makes sure to sink it deep into the moist ground. “Let me remind you about the terms of our agreement. For each 2 kills you make, one soul is mine to take. Or am I wrong?”

“No. You aren’t”. The father answers through gritted teeth. “But I never thought you would want to collec-” Alastor tilts his head, his grin widens and he snaps “Never thought what? That I would claim what I am owed at my leisure? That I would stop waiting patiently for you, acting at your whim? You earned the privilege of killing unbothered by my vigilance. Because you always delivered your side of the bargain with excellence. I can revoke said privilege whenever I want. Especially after this pitiful performance.” The seasoned killer seems to slightly cower at Alastor’s words. Good. He always regarded the demon without fear or trepidation. His work was meticulous, spotless, basically perfect. And that gave him the justifiable confidence for going toe to toe with the Radio Demon during conversations, a bargaining chip during dealings of his contracts. Few could say that.

You feel nauseous. Reality is crashing down at you hard and fast. How many people have these people killed? They are trading lives like it is the stock market, and yet you can’t let go of your prince charming’s hand. There’s no rational thought to justify it, actually rational thought is also being slaughtered like a sacrificial lamb tonight, because despite the gigantic red flags you are not letting go of this man’s hands. Everything about him screams danger, everything about him screams your safety. He’s the type of paradoxical that messes with your primal senses, that makes a moth go to the lights that will kill it.

From the crook of his arm you finally gather the courage to open your eyes. You try to look up to your prince charming, but his face is concealed by the shadows of the night. Actually, everything of importance seems to be conveniently hidden from you. Your aggressor’s faces look distorted, recognizable traits melting together like watercolor painted by 100 shades of darkness, voices and words fuse together creating only cacophony. You hear things, you see things, but you can’t discern them. The three men keep going back and forth, but their conversation seems to dissipate into the air. Everything about this feels like a dream.

Of course you can’t register anything of importance. Alastor makes sure of it. You are a potential victim after all. A liability, capable of making a positive identification. It’s wishful thinking that someone would take your account of what’s happening on this dreadful night seriously.

Alastor has no shame in using the prejudices of your world to his advantage. If you were to tell, everyone would make the assumption that you are “just another hysterical woman, thinking too much about folktales”. You had too much to drink, partied too hard. Hallucinogens are a common party drug and this is the result of a bad trip. At worst, “someone tried to spike your drink, but nothing happened. You should be thankful, not getting in the way of important police work”. Alastor also knows that injustice is no real crime, and yet he decided to spare you. It doesn’t feel fair for you to perish in such crude ways, a practice run for a post pubescent, obnoxious serial killer in training. A precious thing like you should be honored, savored. In the odd chance that your voice was heard, the Radio Demon guarantees that no reliable information will come out of your mouth. His clients might be lacking, but in the dealmaking business your words are your worth and Alastor has a silvertongue. Surely that pretty mouth of yours won’t be a problem.

“I’m afraid I have to insist, my good friend. The pair of you caused enough damage already with these sloppy, impetuous spree killings. Your law enforcement is already on your scent, tracking the pattern and by the looks of it tonight’s mess will send quite a message. A message that I will have to make sure is delivered faultlessly. I will uphold my hand of the bargain, you will uphold yours. The girl will be spared. There’s plenty of prey out there, plus her death would only act as an aggravation, she’s not your type, and trust me, they will know you made a mistake, you will be exposed.” The Radio Demon’s patience is wearing thin. He shouldn’t have to justify his actions to humans. There’s no compromise to be found here, they went to him and the deal is always on his terms. You squeeze his hand really tight during the discussion of your scheduled demise, like a reminder that you are still there. Still afraid.

How cute. Alastor thinks. Your adrenaline is starting to wear off, dissipating into the cool forest breeze and opening space for a strong sense of false security, equally as inebriating. The smell of your sweet fear laced blood is unmistakable, assaulting your savior’s nostrils. Your knees buckle, and you struggle to keep yourself on your feet, clinging to prince charming’s hand for dear life. “Breathe darling, you are forgetting to breathe” He turns quickly towards you, his voice impossibly soft, shooting. You try to look up at charming’s face again, the only new discovery made is that he's awfully tall, and his face is still hidden by opaque darkness. You work really hard on breathing normally again, but you want to keep looking. Their faces are a monstrous distortion, vacant eyes that seem to cry blood. Your entire body tingles, you feel weird goosebumps. It takes all of your willpower to keep standing. You won’t lay yourself at their feat, defeated, like the corpse they would drag from these woods. But you just can’t keep looking, so you shut your eyes and grip the hand that has become your lifeline even tighter.

“You won’t even truly use the bitch, she’s no use for you” The entitled brat opens his mouth again. That’s the trigger.

The Radio Demon grows as tall as the native pine trees, his antlers furiously expanding and casting a shadow so dark over the two serial killers that the moon is completely obstructed. The only source of light in the forest now is the burning red dials of his eyes. The father sees the burning inferno of Alastor’s eyes and for the first time he is speechless. Maybe the realization of where destiny is sending him finally happens. The son sees raw, untamed power for the first time in his life and cowers like a scared puppy. Pathetic.

“Now let’s get something clear here. I’m only tolerating your insolence because of my decade long relationship with your father.” You shut your eyes harder, your eyelids a shield from whatever is about to happen. Foreboding making the forest air too thick for you to breathe. You finally break down and start crying, too fucking much. Alastor’s face meets the son on eye level. His teeth are bared, static picks up around the group to the point both men are struggling to breathe. A clawed hand traps the father’s face, a trail of blood dripping from the older serial killer’s cheek.“He’s as close to a professional as our kind gets. Shame the same thing can’t be said about you. This juvenile outburst does not make you more feared nor does it assert your dominance. It displays how weak you are, inept to succeed on this because you can’t keep your entitled demeanor in check. You are not owed anything in this lifestyle, if you want something you need to prove you’re worthy of it by taking it yourself. Whining like a petulant child won’t get you anywhere” You feel dizzy, the earth beneath your feet quakes, whoever, whatever is holding your hand is sheeting with rage so consuming the ground shakes with the intensity of their emotions.

Alastor’s attention is now focused on the father, the red inferno from his eyes making the man feel genuine fear for the first time in his long, violence-filled life. “Teach your spawn some manners and proper work, otherwise get him out of my sight. This was a courtesy. Fulfillment failings lead to contract termination, and contract termination means a lot of details appearing. You do not wish to make an enemy of me” Alastor delivers his last threat with a snarl. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the intensity of his words, you feel a powerful rush of wind, leaves ruffling, hurried steps and suddenly the world is at a standstill. The forest seems devoid of life excluding you, your mysterious prince charming and your two aggressors. All of your senses are assaulted with an overwhelming feeling of wrongness… darkness. Darkness that feels like the most luxurious silky dress on your skin, the most intense look of a passionate lover. It feels dangerously alluring and your will power is being gladly tempted by it.

You feel like you’ve been holding your breath for hours, the rollercoaster of adrenaline inducing hyperventilation and conscious calming breaths making your brain enter some sort of high. Is that what people felt after a battle in ancient times? Is that what It means to stare death in the face and come out victorious? You don’t understand what you are feeling, but when oxygen finally feels normal again, tall, dark and handsome is escorting you deeper into the woods and you don’t even care.

You’ve just slayed the dragon with your bare hands. You don’t care. You just want to bask on the feeling. To fucking feel. To remind yourself that you are still alive.

Alastor is drunk on something that he rarely indulges in. Desire. Pure, raw carnality that makes him antagonize one of his greatests clients. Someone Alastor awaited his inevitable death with anxiety and hopefulness, someone he could actually call more than a partner in crime when in hell. A friend. A friendship born from blood and gore but bathed in kinship and inexplicable understanding of one’s dark nature. And the Radio Demon almost killed the man and his useless spawn and fucked everything up because when he saw your running for your life something ignited inside him. When you squeezed his hand so tightly, with such abandon and trust, like he was an Angel sent from heaven to protect you when reality was the most wicked antonym.

Alastor spared you because you were prey. Beautiful, delicious prey that defied your destiny by accepting the nature of your condition. You didn’t dare to fight, you didn’t dare to think you could stand a chance against your hunters. You just fled. You fled and was perfectly lured into another trap, you doubled the bet when you held his hand and didn’t let go, serving all of your vulnerability on a silver platter to someone you deep down knew was way worse than any serial killer.

Prey, that will chew its own leg to get out of a trap. Prey, that will offer herself to the most ungodly creature around if it means she can survive a few more moments, just to spite those who started the chase. Prey, that now holds his hand completely carefree and all giggles while she is led to a much more final and insidious type of slaughter. Prey that he was now going to claim.

Your wounded feet start to land on soft squishy things, a familiar scent invades your nostris. From the scent of sweat, blood and gore now to the scent of juicy, plump strawberries.

“Hey, are we on a strawberry field?” it’s the first time you addressed him directly. You trail behind him, hurried steps crushing the strawberries on your way. You look up and for the first time you can see open skies. “You don’t need to worry my dear, you are perfectly safe now”

Are you?

You decide that he doesn’t sound like Darth Vader anymore, his voice is impossibly staticy, it prickles your skin and it feels like goosebumps that accompany butterflies on your stomach. He sounds like someone you would meet at a ball and have a cinderella moment with. The blanket of stars that illuminates the clearing you ferociously fought for grants you a better vision of his figure: scarlet red, snug tailcoat, perfectly tailored. Long legs and trousers that fit like skinny jeans. He dresses like the lead singer from a classic emo band. You can’t say you are complaining, you always loved the idea of a tall dark and handsome prince charming.

“So, you have some weird friends don’t you?” you ask him. You can hear him chuckle, it is a very pleasant sound. Suddenly the twirls you, a fucking disney princess’ musical number twirl, and you find yourself in front of very big bed.

With impeccable white sheets, you mind adds. Must be really hard to maintain white sheets in the middle of a strawberry field. Wait, what is a king size bed doing in the middle of th-

“Ah, I don’t really do friends, more like reluctant colleagues” bootleg brandon urie is the melancholic type, then.

Alastor finally takes a good look at you when you take your seat on the bed with a contented sigh. You look marvelous. Your hair is messy and wild, your cheeks and neck flushed red from the effort. Your eyes big and pliant, waiting for his answers. You look so human, so deliciously alive. He desperately wants to be the cause of your disarray, to make the blood rush to your face under his materfully wicked touch. To feel your pulse fluttering when he touches your neck.

You still can’t see all of him though. There’s stars, a big full moon whose light outstretches far, bathing the clearing in ethereal silver. The brightest lights cast the darkest shadows, your savior is always in the shadows.

By now you know he is purposefully hiding his identity from you, but you always liked a game. Plus you don’t really have anything to lose now, you just want to forget everything that happened to you tonight, you just want to inebriate yourself, and charming really looks like someone who could show you a good time.

Either that or you are having a psychotic break after enduring life threatening stress.

Anyway, you decide to bite. One possible psychotic murder, funny, charming murderer is better than two lukewarm ones.

“Do you always take random women to a creepy bed with impeccable white sheets in the middle of the woods or am I just special?” not a chuckle now, a laugh. A beautiful, full laugh. The residual static on your skin making you shiver.

Alastor completely understands what you are trying to do, and it’s truly hilarious. Your petulance and sarcasm towards him means to an end. You’re so precious, talking to him like this, thinking you could take him at his own game. What a beauty! Seeing you think you are succeeding in this only for him to take that conviction away from you at the last minute is going to be so entertaining. He wants you to dig your own grave, lay yourself at his feet.

He doesn’t indulge you, instead he takes a thick, silky strand of your hair and inhales deeply. You smell like sweet innocence and summer. It makes Alastor euphoric.

His head tilts down as he smells your hair. You don’t that’s creepy, it looks creepy, it sounds creepy, but you feel reverence in his action.

And then out of the shadows comes a revelation, you see his horns. You suspected his unhumanity, but the confirmation of it knocks the wind out of you. Your eyes widen, you simply cannot make sense of this night, everything feels too surreal and raw reality at the same time, it’s giving you whiplash.

“Are you the devil?” you ask him without much consideration of the weight of this question. You do your best to keep your voice from failing but it’s impossible. You never dropped his hand, in fact you feel like you are permanently attached to him, like a marble statue. Your fingers open and interlock again and again, reflecting your anxiety, but you don’t let go.

You can’t see it, but Alastor’s grin is as big as a cheshire cat’s.

“Do you seek the devil?” answering a question with a question. Smoke and mirrors. Alastor waits for you to answer, but you don’t. You don’t know what to answer, you try to contemplate if enganding further could mean eternal damnation, or if you are already damned. Is he going to make you an offer you can’t refuse? an offer you aren’t allowed to refuse? Alastor will blame it on lack of patience, but the fact is he can’t wait anymore to taste you, there’s a burning desire inside him, that only gets more and more ferocious as he tastes the inebriating smell of your fear blessing the air he breathes again.

He removes your interlocking fingers, his hand quickly trapping your tiny wrist inside. You hear heavy breathing.

“Or do you seek a taste of the forbidden fruit?” The demon licks the long cut across our open palm. His tongue is sensual and cold, the sensation of it slowly dragging across your wounded skin a soothing balm. You moan, he growls. “Forbidden fruit it is.” he announces, delivered like a sentence.

You are completely free of his touch for the first time since it all began, but it feels like you just suffered an enormous loss. You feel taunted, like someone just dangled a shiny new thing in front of you and took it away. It’s like your entire being has become tunnel vision and you need to get to the bottom of this, whatever this is. Consequences be damned.

You watch closely as your paranormal paramour moves towards the bed, he is completely concealed by the darkness. Darkness deep and palpable, he morphs within it. The visuals are beautiful, it looks like one of the art’s greatest masters is painting a watercolor in front of you. Darkness from absence of light floating and mixing with otherworldly opaque darkness, flowing like a river. You wonder if it would run through your fingers like water if you touch it.

Antlers. He has antlers, not horns.

The not-devil settles himself behind you, back against the headboard. He quickly maneuvers you onto his lap, grabbing you by the waist. You squeal in surprise as more of him touches you, now pressed flush against his hard chest you feel something you shouldn’t be feeling, nonetheless resistance is futile, you spread your legs giving him more access. He has barely touched you, and yet you are completely surrendered to him.

Alastor wasn’t joking when he established that a woman like you should be savored, slowly consumed so he can extract everything you have to offer. He knows your mind is exhausting itself trying to discern what is happening, how the body and the spirit get more susceptible to succumb to desire after surviving imminent death, and he intends to take full advantage of it. Alastor wants to see you writhe under his touch, pain and pleasure. He wants to torment you and make you pay for existing near him, for making him careless. For making him indulge in carnality and arousal. But mainly, he wants to punish you, because you battled so hard for your survival against them. When you should fear him.

The Radio Demon touches your neck, exactly where your pulse is, where he can feel your beating heart, full of life pulsing. Life that taunts him and seduces him. The thump thump thump of your heart beneath his fingers like a moth going directly to the light that will kill it. He holds your entire life, your entire existence under his clawed finger, it makes him delirious.

You feel a sharp sting on your neck, fangs that break your skin and spill your blood, red and ready for his taking. Holding your breath while he sucks the life out of you, your head swims, and you drown on the feelings. You feel pleasure, forbidden pleasure from having something hurting and feasting on you.

“If you are not the devil, are you a vampire?” It might be a dumb question, but it’s the logical one. Sometimes the obvious needs to be said. He laughs again, a full deep laugh,mockery dripping from it.

“Why? If I were a vampire would it make you feel better about spilling your blood for me?” he dodges the question again. Bait and switch. He’s feeding on you and you are enjoying it.. You don’t know what he is, you don’t know his name. It only spurs the burning desire in the pit on your stomach.

Alastor licks the entire length of your neck, his other hand applying light pressure on your pulse point. He bites down on you again, harder, going deeper. You roll your eyes and moan obscenely as he sucks on it. This is going to leave a mark for sure, but you don’t care, because whatever he’s doing to you feels delirious, it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt.

Your blood is dripping from Alastor’s lips, he licks it not wanting to waste a drop. He can taste your eagerness, your fear, your essence, your soul. The red liquid is solid proof of how alive and defenseless you are, completely at his mercy. You keep moaning and melting on his lap at his ministrations, a finger starts tracing your arm, feather light touch that leaves you shivering in anticipation.

He’s gently scratching, teasingly. It’s a claw, you realize. Another part of his unhumanity making you scared and deliciously trembling in anticipation. It’s Alastor’s turn to moan now, his clawed finger comes to torment your clothed nipple, he makes sure to do it tantalizing slow to give you just a taste of what it could be. He wants to hear you ask for it, beg even.

“I’m afraid I’m way worse than the Devil, little doe” his low, threatening tone makes you close your legs together and rub, desperately seeking friction, some relief.

“Re–really? You don’t sound that bad” A lie. You just want to say something back.

Your paramour laughs again, he takes your hand in his and starts making his way downwards.

“How precious are you, lying like that to me” He stops both of your hands on your lower belly, threatening to cross the point of no return. You squeal and struggle on a desperate attempt to raise your hips and get something more, anything.

Delighted in seeing you writhe this badly when he has not even properly touched you, Alastor squeezes your neck tighter, inflicting just enough pain and pressure to make you sing. The Radio Demon finally makes the decision and drops any pretense of moderation, hastily dropping the band of your panties and guiding your joined hands to your slit. “I can taste the fear in your blood, how your sense of pleasure has been forever skewed”.

The two digits tease your entrance that is coated with arousal and something more, his touch is masterful, like he knows the ways of the human body the same way a talented musician knows their way around an instrument. He makes you moan, he makes you sing with only the possibility of his actions. The idea of being taken by something unholy.

At last, Alastor finally enters your tight wet pussy, his finger guides yours as he undoes you in ways that should not be allowed. He pumps your cunt mercilessly, gone are the careful, calculated touches, he wants to make you crash and burn as quick as possible, he wants to make you understand that you crossed the most important line of your life. There’s no going back now, your pretty mortal body is forever tainted by unholiness, by his darkness.

“You spread yourself like this for me, a wanton little thing while I choke and feast on your blood”. Alastor curls the fingers inside you repeatedly making you move your hips in the maniac rhythm he has set. You ride your joined digits, moaning like a whore while your lover’s grip on your throat tightens and releases making your brain short circuits in pure unknown carnal feeling. “You are not the demure, feisty thing like you desperately tried to prove earlier. It only takes the slight touch of something forbidden to make you moan like a common whore” he adds another one of his huge fingers and starts scissoring inside you, the combination of two of his digits and your little one only adds insult to injury. You will never be able to replicate these ministrations, the feeling of being this full and stretched, you had a taste of the forbidden fruit, you are high on it and you will never get another hit on your own.

Alastor alternates between choking you and curling the fingers inside you, your lightheadedness combined with the assaulting pleasure making you feel feverishly delirious. Your body is hot from desire and adrenaline combined, a starking contrast to your mysterious lover’s touch, ice cold. The two of you distinct seasons, distinct stages of existence mixing together, life and death tethering each other, blurring the lines of worlds that shouldn’t exist together.

Orgasm building quickly, you grip the white sheets tighter and tighter and tighter but your fingers feel wet, you look down to see a mess of redness leaking from your core.

Oh fuck, you are on your period. You completely forgot about it. In normal circumstances you would feel mortified about being fingered like this while bleeding, but right now it makes things even more erotic, you’ve learned that your lover may not be a vampire, but he definitely has a thing for blood and something inside you ignites at the idea of letting him feast on your blood, eat you out while you bleed for him.

Your pussy flutters with the fantasy of that tongue working your pussy and with a particularly harsh pinch on your clit you are off. Waves of pleasure spread across your entire body like wildfire, he chokes you merciless making the urge to scream to the universe how fucking good you feel impossible. You want to scream his name, but you don’t know who he is, what he is. You just want more.

While you ride the waves of your orgasm unbothered Alastor takes the opportunity to take fingers from your pussy to his mouth, red with blood and slick with arousal, he moans audibly as he tastes you, the most intimate parts of you. Only a little bit of it inebriates him, this is better than 70% of what he does in Hell. This feels better than closing a new deal, watching the princess of Hell fail miserably at rehabilitating sinners. You taste so sweet, so alive and afraid. He’s hard with the conviction of how scared you are, of how he has permanently tainted something so innocent and pure. How you stupidly threw yourself to his mercy. Perishing at the hand of those serial killers is more merciful than him. And now you will know.

You must have babbled something while you came, about wanting to scream his name and not knowing it, because now you find yourself completely lying down, the bed feels soft like a cloud and you are sprawled like an angel, and he finally reveals something about him of his own volition.

“The name is Alastor, my dear. It has definitely been a pleasure meeting you.” Alastor, now you know, settles himself between your thighs and the pooling redness from your core. You feel him running his claws across the impossibly soft flesh of your inner thighs, you cover your face with your arm.

“Alastor I’ve never… No one has ever…” you trail off, you shouldn’t be embarrassed at this point, but nevertheless you feel your cheeks burning. Is he really going to eat your bloody pussy? fuck.

Alastor’s name on your lips sounds so soft, so pure. He wants to ruin it. He wants to destroy the careful constructed cognitive dissonance that makes you feel safe and comfortable around him. He wants you to be completely afraid and craving being scared of him, disrupting your sense of pleasure so he can ruin you completely, getting you hooked on him and delirious for more, willing to do anything for another taste of the forbidden fruit.

So, he makes you look.

“Look at me” you don’t want to. You feel a lot of things right now, but mainly you feel as if you really take a look at your dark lover tragedy is going to happen. Eros and psyche all over again, but bloodier.

He claws your thighs, you hiss at the delicious pain, but still disobey him.

“Look. At. Me” he snarls, definitely a threat. You feel yourself getting wetter.

Alastor slaps your ass, hard. He’s losing patience, his temper turning quick at the realization that you not knowing who he is isn’t a perfect plan.

You moan from the pain, from the sting. It feels wickedly erotic. You almost want him to hit you again. Since when pain felt so fucking good?

So you do, you finally look at him.

Red. The first thing that your brain fixates on is how much red there is. Scarlet red hair, red blood running down your core and staining the white sheets. Red claws that pierce your skin.

Red eyes. Burning red eyes that entrap you. It’s like you can see the blazing fire that tortures the damned inside those eyes.

If this is why people fall from grace, you totally understand the appeal now.

The second thing, the thing that makes you transfixed at the sight of him is how wrong he looks. His antlers are beautiful, growing from his scarlet hair beautifully adorning ears that look extremely soft, non-threatening, like a crown. His eyes are big and sharp, close together

while he stares at your soul, eyes of a predator in the middle of softness of prey. His grin is completely predatory, dangerous, sharp teeth that hurt and maul, but at the same time bite you just the right way to make you moan in raw carnality. The skin is pale, not in a michael-jackson-thriller-way but in an ethereal way. His voice is static that seems to tickle your skin, sometimes more than others. He’s paradoxical, everything you should be afraid of and the comfort you should seek at the same time. A force you shouldn’t meddle with. Primal and raw.

You may not know what exactly he is, but one thing is certain: he’s dangerously alluring, and you completely fell into his trap. But it hardly matters anymore, because he is about to drink blood from your pussy with that marvelous silvertongue of his.

“Fucking beautiful” you blur out, not realising he’s going to hear you.

One of Alastor’s eyebrows shoots up. He’s not regarded as beautiful often. Alluring, maybe.

He wants to make you pay for all the soft ideas you have about him.

You soon learn how hard it is to hold the gaze of your lover’s eyes, his burning red irises entrap you. It's impossible to look away but overwhelming to stare into.

“If all the mortal men you’ve been with are weak and pathetic enough to decline the dark gift of your bleeding cunt, then I’m honored to be your first” and without much more warning you feel a delicious cold tongue licking your entrance and you are off

Alastor isn’t eating you out, he’s feasting on you like you are his last chance of salvation. His face is completely buried deep in between your legs as his tongue assaults you at a merciless pace. He makes sure not to waste a drop of anything your gushing pussy gives him. His tongue enters you and the contrast between your tight heat and his coldness makes you delirious. Exquisite carnal pleasure, you could cum from it alone.

Alastor is having a hard time navigating this double edged knife: you don’t know who he is what is capable of, which means your aren’t near as scared of being this vulnerable with him as you should be, a literal cannibal delighting in your soft flesh, drinking the warmth of your sacred blood. You must taste delicious terrified. But the silver lining is that the fear he inspires would make any woman who knows more compliant to this, even offering this to him freely. You have no idea about his exploits, he can and he will tarnish you with all of his unholy darkness, wrecking your world during the eleventh hour when you realize what you’ve done, who you’ve so easily corrupted your morals and your spirit for. You’re so beautiful, so naive, so trusting, so alive. You moan “Alastor, Alastor, Alastor” soft ohhhs and aaaahs as he polishes your cunt, every sound you make, every twitch of your legs and roll of your lips reminding your ungodly lover of how delicate and rare you are, aiding him on his mission. Gripping the sheets isn’t enough anymore, you instinctively place your hands on his antlers, the texture indescribable. Again, the contradiction of the softness of his velvet and the sharpness of his teeth, wickedness of his tongue giving you whiplash. You start rubbing them furiously, trying to mirror his ministries on your swollen folds. It definitely is doing something to him because he drags his teeth along your inner tie, breaking more skin, drawing more blood, hissing. You scream at the heavenly pain mixed with unholy pleasure.

Normally, Alastor wouldn’t let anyone near his antlers, arguably the most sensitive part of his body. If worked right, the sensations take him to another level of desire, insane carnality. But you taste so sweet, rich blood mixed with erotic arousal on a soft flesh platter, he consumes your innocence as he coaxes another orgasm from you. You hold on to dear life on his antlers, his velvet shedding and bloodying your hands, running through adding to the painting of reds that connects you two. Something ignites on you and it’s the most intense orgasm of your life, you feel every nerve burning from everlasting fire, that transforms and transforms until it explodes in a supernova. You don’t have the strength to scream, so you whisper Alastor’s name like a filthy prayer.

He looks up grinning like a devil. Something makes you open your eyes as you ride out the waves of pleasure. There’s so much blood, blood dripping from his lips, blood on his nose, blood cascading down his bewitching face mixing in a flowing current of red, it ends in a glistening red pool where you meet each other in immoral sin, so inviting you could jump in. It’s like what would happen if the killers had caught you, but twisted into wicked, ungodly pleasure, it’s almost worse. Because well, if you’re killed you’d be dead and would never have experienced this, but now you have and the ephemerality of this night crashes on you and you feel conned, betrayed.

He licks his lips and stares right at you, a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes, you almost cum again.

Alastor feels delirious from the bloody mess in front of him, carnality so powerful it makes him insane, he needs to finish this. He needs to sink his cook deep into your slick cunt. Pushing himself up, he starts to position his cock on your entrance. He’s so tall, the shadows of his bloodied antlers cover you and hide the welcoming silver lighting of the moon. The stars look so different today, and the welcoming sight of a full moon looks merciless, devoid of warmth and hope.

“Women like you are not meant for mortal men. They cannot honor you, they cannot savor you, they cannot satisfy you. Once you take a bite of the forbidden fruit you understand your place. Pliant and submissive beneath me. To be ravished and tamed by something beyond puny mortality. You are made to me fucked, to be owned by the better man who defied destiny and transcended what the hands of fate enforced on him. You are Helen of Troy, tailor made to fit my cock, satisfy my thirst”

He teases your entrance with just the tip, making you greedly roll your hips towards him, a primal response to the ravishing words. Alastor laughs mockling at you attempt of getting him to fuck you on your terms, your time. You may not be aware of everything but by now you know you can’t outfox and fox on his own game.

“please. please. PLEASE” you scream the last word, you can’t take it anymore. A second without him touching your body feels like an eternity.

“Tsk. You look so pretty when you beg” the condescending compliment lands like music on your ears and he finally enters you. Inch after inch he spreads your tight walls open, practically breaking you. You understand now why people in times before yours had sex after battle. It’s the most rare and coveted feeling in existence, to greet imminent death, escape her fatal calling and then do the thing that undoubtedly proves you are alive. Only to meet her again at the finish line of carnal sensations and no rational thought. Primal need to feel, to live.

Alastor finally bottoms out with an animalistic growl, making your shiver under him. He fucks you at a merciless pace, he fucks you with haste, with urgency and abandon. He knows what he needs and he is going to take it.

“Hoooooly FUCK Alastor” you scream.

“There’s nothing holy here. Everything that’s holy has abandoned you. There’s only me, your wicked god who has you completely at his mercy, to fuck, to break” he takes it all out and enters you at once. You try so bad to look at him, to hold his piercing gaze with adamantine conviction but you can’t. It’s too much, overstimulation creeps on you and everything hurts. You shut your eyes.

“Look at me. Fucking look at me or I will stop” it’s not an order, it’s a threat. You should be scared, you feel scared, but tonight fear is diesel to your desire, and the pain makes you enter a mind numbing stage. The lines of torture and relief blurring together until you can’t discern a thing, you feel.

You do as you’re told. You look at him as he fucks you, thrusting like a mad man, obscene sounds reverberating throughout, you are being so loud you are sure they can hear you back on the village. The village, your cabin. You had a life before tonight. Will there be life after tonight?

You don’t have time to have an existential crisis because what Alastor does next gets your undivided attention.

“You will look at the demon who is ruining you, fucking you. You are no immaculate maiden anymore. You are a common whore for the Radio Demon” your eyes widen at the revelation. He is not a vampire, he’s not the devil. The fact that he is a demon and not satan makes you even more mortified, like you’ve settled for less. Just a little demon is what it takes to completely undo you.

Alastor keeps thrusting at a breakneck pace, feeling vindicated. He did exactly what he said he would do, he took the last fiber of comfort, of dignity away from you. He can see your entire world shattering on your beautiful doe eyes, making you finally feel the right amount of horror on the edge of a rapturous orgasm.

You feel true terror now, there was still a slimmer hope that he wasn’ evil incarnated, that he had a redeeming quality. After all, he saved you. Didn’t he save you? Or did you start something you are not even close to understanding? You feel terrified because there’s a demon fucking you, biting you, feasting on your blood and you fucking love it, you want it every night. You really took a bite from the forbidden fruit and ruined yourself.

“It’s too much, Alastor I can’t” the words leave your lips and feel like confession, like somehow if you admit your complete surrender it will absolve you of something.

“Too. Bad.” Alastor punctuates his point with delicious sharp trust after each word. He finally tainted you with his darkness and made you aware of it. He feels delirious, he feels like victory incarnated. Your moans grow louder and louder, now pleasure means pain, hell means rapture. Things that should not exist together making you feel the best you have ever felt. Tears spill from your eyes, the overstimulation something you’ve never felt before, mind numbing and life-altering.

In an act of paradoxical mercy, your demon lover rubs your clit and you’re out like a light. Your walls tighten around Alastor’s cock, and white hot pain, blinding red pleasure overcomes you. You feel like falling, you feel your literal fall from grace as your body tingles and burns with ineffable, forbidden pleasure. Alastor howls and cums inside you.

You land on silky, comfortable, alluring darkness.

The cool forest breeze greets your abused skin, it stings but feels soothing at the same time. Paradoxical, like everything from this night. Alastor holds you tight, cradling your head on his chest, petting your hair. He draws lazy circles on your hip bone, featherlight touch, careful and coy. You turn on your side to face him.

“Can you see it now? It’s beautiful, he’s so beautiful” your mind asks you. You agree.

You start giggling, laughing. It is also so funny.

“What’s so funny, little doe?” Alastor asks you, genuinely amused. He feels elated from this night. He feels satiated, contented. It’s a very rare feeling for him.

“For a while I seriously considered you are an alien” you tell him, you can’t contain your laughter now. You are so silly. Alastor’s eyebrow shoots up, quizzical. He chuckles and indulges you. “Alien, is so mundane. You could never be an Alien, it’s way too easy”. What your giddy minds means is that now you know Alastor is anything but easy, actually there’s nothing like him. He’s something else. Something entirely different, a delicious mystery that creeps inside your heart, haunts you forever.

You stop laughing when realization hits you.

“Will I ever see you again, Alastor?” you ask him, your voice failing, nothing more than a whisper. You feel the ephemerality of this night, you feel daylight closing, ruthless sun rising that ends this everlasting dream.

Alastor stares deeply into your eyes, he sees your wanton desire, your trepidant expectations. “That depends entirely on you, my dear doe. It’s time to make a decision.” his voice is so soft it fucking hurts.

You look at the fading moon on the horizon, the distant stars judge you, the earliest of birds sing for you.

Yet from those starts, no light but rather, darkness visible.

You open your eyes, you feel impossibly rested. Your bed feels soft and you want to visit dreamland again, but the noise stops you.

Songbirds and blazing sirens mix together a cacophony of urgency. You get up fast, trying to remember little bits and pieces of the crazy dream you had and run to the big window across the room.

You look down, you see ambulances, police cars, lab coats and tall guys in FBI jackets.

Something definitely happened here last night.

That explains it then, the nature of your murderous dreams. The sirens creeped their way into your subconscious making that murderous, dreadful dream. You take a quick look and your hands and see nothing. Perfect, unblemished skin.

It felt so real. Strawberry fields and blood.

Your neighbor from across the street gestures manically at you from her window.

Fuck, it must have been really bad. There’s a lot of people at your doorstep.

Hurrying to put your robe on, you fly down the stairs towards the bustling crowd outside.

You are dying to know what happened. You were always a vivid dreamer.

You reach the hall and open the door, a polite officer starts talking to you.

You don’t notice the old radio on your vanity, or the opaque darkness that followed you from the corner of your room to the world outside.

#alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor x you #alastor fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #the radio demon x you #im insaneeeeeeeee #baixaria #im sorry everyone #alastor #the radio demon

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thelesbianluthor · 3 months

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Saw people talk about the fact that the trio knows every single threat they have to face before they have to confront them in the show vs in the books they actually fall into traps and then have to find a way to escape it.

This is one of the main issues i have too honestly. I understand the choice of making annabeth pick up on the statues and the name of the place and obviously guess "oh that is medusa". It works bc medusa is important and connected to her mother and like the context clues are staggering.

But comparing that moment to the start of episode 7 (which i actually really enjoyed especially compared to ep6) makes the show lose most of the tension they could have.

Like why make it an immediate exposition dump on "oh you are this and you do that and we are here for this and that" i don't mind the change of making the shop the entrance of hell but why can't they just for once fall into a trap like? They are 12 years old trying to avoid a war and fix a situation way bigger than them, they are smart and quick witted but let them make mistakes and NOT KNOW some things.

I feel like a lot of the potential of the first scene went out of the window and it just became a "here's an exposition of a scene that happened in the book" and that way even if you cut it you don't lose anything really.

Changes are a GOOD thing and that is not my issue with the show at all! I have already said that I mostly enjoy the changes that were made and I am not expecting nor want a scene for scene copy but it does make it a lot less interesting imo if they go into EVERY SINGLE SITUATION knowing what they are up against for no real reason.

You can have them know some things and guess who they are up against but like if it happens every time the tension of the danger gets lost a lot and it becomes repetitive imo.

On the good side of things tho I think you can see in general that the trio has gotten a lot more comfortable in the characters and the improvement it's very visible. I already said how I really love the casting and I only expect them to get better at portraying the characters that is a no brainer.

The flash backs were probably my favorite part of the episode along with the way they decided to visually represent Hell.

I love that we get to see a peak of Sally and Poseidon's dynamic and how hard it was for Sally to raise Percy, not only bc of the risks his godly heritage brings but also bc she was a single mother and society in general tends to give up on people that don't fit the mold.

Small Percy thinking his mom wanted to get rid of him and saying "I would never do that to you" even tho she has spent every moment doing her best to protect him vs an older Percy having to choose to leave his mom behind so he can do the right thing even tho everything he has done has been fueled by the desire to save her. That was beautiful and tragic.

Casting in general is incredible bc even with the little we saw of Poseidon (I knew the actor from black sails so I knew he would be great) I think he really nailed it.

Hades is maybe a BIT too silly but I can live with it honestly. Like we'll have time to explore and make other characters deeper later on so i don't see this as an issue.

The decision to make them aware of Kronos and tell Hades is interesting and I do like that he offered to protect Percy if he believed to be at risk.

I understand that with how things are now you never know if a show will be renewed and if you'll get to actually finish your story so I don't mind them making certain stuff known sooner and sprinkling references to future events or call backs (MOA percabeth reference I am talking abt you).

Overall I think that the strongest suit of the show right now is the cast and the way they show characters dynamics and their potential.

Like I have said before my criticism stems from my love for the material and my wish for it to do well. I have opinions that maybe will not match with others and it's okay! Not everyone has to like something! I WANT the show to keep going and grow and evolve into a better adaptation with each step because I really love the basis they laid down, the story and the characters and I see the potential most of all. I can't wait for the last episode.

#pjo rant #pjo rambles #percy jackson #i really like episode 7 in general #i think it was a lot better than 6 like that one was maybe the weakest #i am excited for the last one bc i think it will be even better #most of all baby percy and Sally moments almost made me cry with each scene #he was so small and sally was trying so hard #love them #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo tv show #pjo spoilers #pjo series #pjo

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florestmoon · 2 years

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Eventually. (Eddie Munson X Reader)

Summary: A new girl in Hawkins, she surely wouldn’t hang with the freaks. Right? Eddie realizes he judged a bit too quickly.

Warnings: implied chubby/plus size!reader because it’s what we need! Also I don’t know ANYTHING about dnd😭 I looked up a quick video about someone making a notebook ok ok. Don’t fight me pls

Authors notes: I told myself I wouldn’t write for ST but here we are.. I love this trope ok. I might make this a multiple part where Eddie keeps doubting the reader and slow burn with angst. Also, if I were to continue to write for this cute metal head; it would only be angst and fluff. No smut tho (: so if you request, remember that pls. Ok enjoy

Starting senior year in a new school and new town wasn’t on your checklist on how to spend the rest of 1985, yet here you were on a Tuesday afternoon at Hawkins High.

The school year had already started for two weeks now, but with your parents lack of planning things ahead and all your packed belongs being delayed, you had barely gotten your schedule the Monday morning before.

So standing in the front of the door that lead to the cafeteria, everyone already packed in groups spread out among the tables that littered the huge room, you found yourself internally groaning at your late start. You knew that the chance of there being cliques was possible, given how big the high school was, but you had hoped there would at least be one or two empty tables when you got there.

Every table was taken, given a few empty seats that was clearly for someone’s else friend.

Nerves wracked through you but you kept your chin high, slightly tugging on your oversized sweater’s sleeve before making your way towards the lunch line. There was a few stares, and whispers much to your dismay. The line ended with a pair of cheerleaders, who were giggling amongst themselves. You took note of their uniform. You always were interested in dancing, having tried out for the cheerleading team at your old school but never made it in. A few comments about your figure may have had a say in that.

Maybe this year would be different.

Before you could get the courage to speak up and ask them about any tryouts this year, their voices turned sharp as their eyes were directed across the room.

“Poor freshman. Cant believe they were convinced by that freak to join their weird cult.” The brunette scoffed, crossing her arms as she looked away while the redhead continued to stare in amusement.

“I guess nerds really do find each other. What was the game they play again?” She asks uninterested before answering herself. “D and..P? Death and something?”

Dungeons and Dragons. You found yourself thinking quickly,your head turning towards the direction of their topic. Eyes catching onto the table that had a long curly haired male, leather jacket and vest being the first thing you latched onto, who was standing at the far end of the table. Arms leaning against the table as he shook his head dramatically, seemingly to give an exaggerated speech to the rest of the teens that sat staring up at him in awe.

They burst into laughter after he made a gesture with his hand, a large smile spreading across his face as he fanned out his hair. He seemed content with their response as he plopped down on his seat then, eyes looking up in time to catch you staring. You looked away quickly, stumbling when someone had complained for you to move. The slip up had caught the two girls attention, their eyes turning toward you.

The once judge mental eyes quickly turned into soft ones as they regarded you. The red head speaking up first. “Hey, you’re the new girl right?”

You nod as you look between them both. “Yeah, uh. I’m y/n.”

“Cool. I’m Jessica and that’s Bri.” The brunette, Jessica, quips happily as they continue to move up the line. “I love your hair!”

“Yeah you’re really pretty.” Bri comments, throwing you a sweet smile as her and Jessica exchange glances that you brushed off. You were about to respond before she cut you off, “you know we’re looking for some new cheerleaders and you should totally try out.”

It seems like things were working in your favor after all, maybe this year wouldn't be so bad. You nod which they respond with excited claps. “Great! They’ll be announcing tryouts soon, so pay attention to the announcements.”

They quickly grab their trays before moving together towards a tables, giggling about whatever was said to each other. You watch them before grabbing your tray. Your mind going back to the table across the room.

Right. Dungeons and Dragons.

You always were interested in DnD, well interested was an understatement. You were obsessed. It was a little secret you kept to yourself at your old high school after your cousins had casually mentioned it in the end of your middle school days. Finding yourself head in between many pages of books that gave you information on the game, jotting down notes in a notebook as you allowed yourself to dwell in this fantasy world.

Your cousins had allowed you to participate in a few campaigns until they grew out of it, teasing you when you tried to mention it again. Since then, you couldn't find anyone else that appreciated the game. So you were left with drawing and creating characters in your spare time, along with reading articles on the game.

Your old school didn't have a club so the idea of there being one in Hawkins, it gave you courage to grab your tray of lunch food and make a beeline towards the table. Fingers tapping under the plastic plate as you approached the group of teenage boys, their eyes falling onto you when you stopped right next to Eddie.

“Hi.” You said softly, throwing him a nervous smile. Eddie blinked at you in surprise before raising an eyebrow.

“Uh..hi?”

You ignored the suspicion in his voice, placing your tray on the table and settling yourself in the seat. Gareth, who was next to you, gawked at you as you glanced over the multiple faces at the table. “I heard that this is a club..for dnd?”

“You mean you overheard everyone calling us freaks and nerds that play a stupid fantasy game, right?” Eddie voice turned sharp, his fingers tapping onto the table to emphasize his words. You felt taken aback by his tone, but decided to be honest.

“Well yeah.” You state, before grinning. “but I, myself, like that stupid fantasy game. So I was hoping that I could join.”

A silence fell over the table. A twinge of annoyance had your eyebrow twitching but you pushed it down.

“You..like dnd? Dungeons and Dragons, right?” Mike finally spoke up, him and the two others beside him staring at you as though you grew another head. You sighed as you moved a strand of hair away from your face before grabbing your fork and stabbing into your food.

“Yes. Dungeons and Dragons. Or did I guess wrong? Is this something else ?” You playfully narrow your eyes at them.

“No!” Dustin yells. “No. I mean yeah! Yeah it means dungeons and dragons. “

“Okaaay.” You giggle. “Then yes I like dnd.” They continue to stare at you. “Why is that so weird?”

“I don’t know, because you’re pretty and a girl.”

Eddie made a strangled noise at Lucas nonchalant answer but you only laughed it off. Shaking your head as you looked at him, “well thanks. But yes, a girl can like a fantasy game too.”

Your amusement was cut short by Eddie’s sharp voice once again. “Yeah I don’t buy it.”

Eddie had leaned back, crossing his arm across his chest and was narrowing his eyes at you. The look was intimidating to say the least. It had you dropping your fork in order to cross your arms in response. “What is there to buy?”

“Well let’s see. A new girl, a pretty one as Lucas states,” you blush slightly at his comment, “decides to come sit with the freaks on her first day. Doesn’t that seem a bit like..” Eddie taps a finger on his chin as he looked up at the ceiling in thought. Pretending to think for a few seconds, “A set up?”

“A set up?” You scoff in disbelief.

“Yeah. It’s easy.” He leans forward and makes eye contact with you. “Let me explain better. I’m sure those cheerleaders you were talking to in line had told you, in order to be accepted in their little cute popular clique, you had to come here and make a fool of us. Huh?”

“What?? No, they were asking me simple questions.”

“Yeah right.” Gareth scoffed, his posture relaxing while he shook his head and went back to eating the mashed potatoes in his plate. Uninterested in whatever you had to say now that Eddie pointed it out.

You felt your whole body tingle in embarrassment before looking at Eddie again, who seemed a bit disappointed in whatever realization he made in his head.

“We may be freaks, devil worshippers, or whatever creative name they come up with. But we aren’t stupid, sweetheart. So tag along with your new friends and find another way to be accepted.” He gave you a tense smile before turning his attention back to the tater tots on his own tray.

The looks the others gave you reminded you of those times your cousins has disregarded you. The times your friends had gave you judge mental glances whenever you mentioned your small hobby. The fact that it was happening all over again, with people you hoped would be different with you, caused for your cheeks to warm in humiliation. You scoff before grabbing your tray and stood up quickly, nearly tripping as you made way towards the exit. Throwing your food in a near by trash can before pushing yourself through the doors to the hallway.

Eddie secretly watched you the whole time, expecting you to go straight towards the cheerleaders. Their disappointment at your failure being a sight to bask in, only to be surprised at your exit of the cafeteria in a hurry.

“I don't know, she seemed pretty interested.” Dustin lowly whispered at Lucas and Mike, clearly meant for only their ears but Eddie heard it. This received a humorless laugh from him as he shook his head.

“No way, Henderson.” He glanced at the doors again, “No way.”

—

A small pink notebook was slammed onto the table, nearly topping over the orange juice box Eddie was working so hard to getting open. He frowned as he looked up, coming face to face with you. A small smirk playing on your lips as you sat down on the seat next to him, the same one you occupied the day before. The seat he definitely didn’t stare at for the rest of the lunch period by the way.

“And this is..?” He grabs the notebook in question, turning it over before glancing at you through his curls that fanned over his forehead. Eddie couldn't deny at the small excitement of you being here again. It was all he thought about when he overheard a jock complaining about you heading towards their table instead of the basketball teams.

Still, he was wary. He couldn’t allow for the guilt of his actions before to override his judgement. Not yet.

“It’s my DnD notebook.” You grab his forgotten juice box, carefully pushing the top open. “I’ve worked on my characters for most of high school and random campaign ideas. It’s a bit messy but it’s all I got. But it should be enough,”

You push the juice box towards him and smile. “-to convince you i’m not lying and I’m definitely not setting you guys up. Or whatever weird accusation you made. Which I forgive you by the way.”

Eddie watched you closely, mouth slightly open in shock before he quickly shut it and stared down at the notebook in his hands. He opened a few pages in to be met with a few drawings and some stats on different characters.

You shrugged off your backpack and placed it beside you on the bench, unaware to the inner turmoil that was growing inside Eddie.

Yes it was messy, but there was so much attention put to the character you created, he couldn't help but feel astonished and stupid for the way he acted the day before.

It was cute the way you added small notes to the side and the amount of erased markings that littered the pages. He couldn't deny that he was a bit intrigued by some ideas you had written in the other pages he briefly looked over. You were opening your own juice box when he set down your notebook.

“Consider me..surprised. And ashamed.” He cleared his throat as he laid his chin on top of his knuckles. Rings digging into skin as he grimaced. “For how I acted.”

“Like I said, all forgiven.” You take a sip from your juice as you look up at him. “Yeah I was mad at first. But after hearing a few..really gross comments from others in my classes. I guess I understood your reaction.”

“Yeah well, we aren’t exactly well liked. So I-“ he backtracks, “we couldn't believe someone like you-”

“Pretty and a girl?”

He coughs into his fingers, covering half his face with his hand before looking at you through his fingers. Your smile meeting his gaze. Tease.

“Exactly.” He clears his throat as he pulls his hand away, crossing them on top of the table as he leans into your space. “So. I apologize. For being such a dickhead, sweetheart.”

You nod your head, accepting the apology.

“Does that mean my amazing drawing skills is enough for me to be in the club?” You bit your lip, nerves starting to creep up again. You felt hopeful but couldn't help but be afraid that there would be another reason to be rejected again.

“well, maybe not the drawings..”That earns a gasp from you, he laughs and throws his head back before looking down at the notebook. “But yes. You are now one of the freaks of Hawkins.” He shakes his head with that smile you were beginning to like more. Where his dimples popped out.

“Great!” You stand straight in your seat in excitement as you tuck your hair behind your ear. “I’m y/n. By the way.”

He wanted to say I know. He had asked a few others your names after your first encounter but instead said, “I’m Eddie.”

You both stare at each other for a few moments before the small chatter of the freshman interrupt the relaxed moment. Dustin slamming his tray onto the table as he stares at you.

“Holy shit, you’re back!” He yells, a few annoyed glances from other tables not stopping his loud voice. “Does that mean we were right? That Eddie was a complete asshole for no reason?”

You grab the notebook and begin to stuff it into your backpack as you chuckle, unaware of the way Eddie was staring at you. “Yup. But don’t worry, he’s getting me one of those cool shirts you have as a proper apology.”

You glance at Eddie, taking him out of his daze and throwing him another sweet smile. “I’m a large by the way.”

Eddie smirks and touches his finger to his forehead before saluting them at you. “Got you, princess.”

#eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #eddie fic #eddie munson angst #fluff #gareth #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler

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goosewriting · 1 year

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Hi I just wanted to tell you that I really enjoy your writing. What if the turtles got cloaking broches and wanted to show their partner, and the partner was like “yeah you’re pretty as a human but I miss your markings/stripes etc.”?

Cloaking broach (rottmnt x reader)

summary: reader and turtle’s reaction to seeing him in human form for the first time.

relationship: Rise Leo, Raph, Mikey, Donnie x GN reader (separate)

warnings: simping ✊😔, innuendos? sort of? nothing spicy or anything but idk it’s a different tone than my usual stuff XD, i guess it still counts as fluffy ending tho

word count: 1.9k

A/N: ty for the kind words anon! i have to say i went kinda hard on the simp reader here but can you blame me? this ended up being 100% self-indulgent lmao check the human designs i used for this one under the cut and you’ll understand 🫡 still, i hope it’s to your liking ;;w;;

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

for this one i wanted to give you guys a visual lol for the human!turtles: i’ll be using these designs by @redbeanp13 (source), who was kind enough to let me use them :D the drawing below is by @soldrawss (source) whose art you should really check out because it’s top tier 😤👌

with that settled, let's get to it~

— — —

The turtle made his way to your apartment, moving swiftly between the buildings, unable to hold in his excitement. He had borrowed a cloaking broach from Sunita, and he wanted you to be there when he transformed for the first time. After all, he hoped you’d like how he looked.

When he got to your place and explained the situation, you suddenly got nervous. You had never even thought about him as a human, and while you were certainly curious, you also felt strangely uneasy. What if he was shocked about how he looked? What if he was disappointed because it wasn’t like he expected? On the other hand… What if he looked even better? What were you supposed to do with that knowledge after he turned back to his turtle self?

You shook your head to rid yourself of those thoughts, focusing instead on the almost child-like glee your boyfriend had, waiting for you to join him in front of your full-length mirror.

Giving him a nod, he was just about to place the broach on his strap when you spoke, suddenly remembering a very important aspect of the transformation.

“Wait!” you stopped him, holding up your hands, and he looked at you slightly irritated but waited for you to continue, as he saw how flushed your face looked all of a sudden. “How does the whole clothes aspect work? Will you have those or will you transform, like… naked?”

“Why, would you like to see that?” he teased you.

You didn’t nod nor shake your head, instead only bringing up your hands to cover your face.

“I’m just kidding” he laughed and placed a hand on your shoulder reassuringly, giving it a bit of a squeeze. “The broach gives you the clothes you imagine, so no worries.”

“Right…” you replied sheepishly, uncovering your face. “Let’s see it then.”

And with that the turtle placed the broach on the strap around his torso, and got engulfed in a greenish smoke.

🔵 Leo

When he emerged, he was smug about it.

You blinked a couple of times, trying to process what you saw.

There were a lot of feelings happening.

Meanwhile he quite literally checked himself out in the mirror.

He had no shame about it.

You ran your hands through his hair, and the new sensation startled him, but he didn't pull back.

It felt kinda nice actually.

You traced over his face; his stripes had translated into scars and birthmarks of sorts.

As you were admiring his facial features, Leo suddenly pulled you closer by the waist, leaning in, and stopped just before your lips touched, quietly asking if he could kiss you. You replied by closing the distance.

The kiss felt different and yet the same, as it still was Leo in front of you. Again, your hands came up to run through his hair, lightly tugging at the base of the neck, which made him softly groan into the kiss. At the unexpected sound you pulled back and looked at him with big eyes and heated cheeks.

“I could get used to that” he said with his signature grin, and quickly pecked your nose.

“So, you like it?” Leo asked, placing his arm over your shoulder and pulling you into his side, so you stood next to each other, facing the mirror.

“I mean… yes? You do still look very handsome” you replied, and trailed off, biting your bottom lip, as if hesitating to continue. He gave you a soft smile through the mirror.

“But?”

“I don’t know, it’s like there’s something missing? Your half-moon markings that bring out your eyes, the stripes that seem to glow in the light, your whole ninja-ness. This feels like more of a costume than anything else… I like you in green; it feels realer.”

His gaze suddenly softened, looking vulnerable for a split second. That was not the reply he was expecting, but maybe deep inside the one he was hoping for.

“I do like the hair though” you said to go back to your banter. “And it looks like you finally can get a good posture without the shell.”

“Hey!” Leo gasped in mock offence, and you stuck out your tongue at him. “Turtle or not, I can still totally kick your butt!”

You had no time for a clever remark, as he was already playfully tackling you to the ground, with you squealing and trying to get out of his grasp to evade his relentless tickling.

🔴 Raph

He was still tall, almost as tall as his turtle form.

Just not as big.

Which was kinda weird to see.

As if there was a part of him missing in the space before you.

You hugged him and could almost reach around his back, which was impossible in his turtle form.

Also he was warm for once, which was nice.

As you were hugging him, his arms also wrapped around your form.

That’s when you noticed.

He was so soft.

“So, what do you think?” he asked at your reflection in the mirror.

You pulled back from the hug and just stared at his chest for a second. His chest was usually rather hard because of the plaster, even though it was quite flexible for him to move in. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder.

Without saying anything you gingerly placed your hands on his chest, making him slightly flinch, a violent blush spreading on his face and neck.

“This is gonna sound so weird” you said, unable to look him in the eye. “But can I… feel you?”

“Ah- Uhm- Sure.” Raph went a little stiff, unsure of what you were about to do.

Your hands traced his chest, which was still rather firm; you assumed his muscles still were present in this form. Then your fingers slowly wandered down to his tummy, which was softer, and to the sides, where you softly pinched his hip, making him squeak in surprise. You took a deep breath to recover from the sheer adorableness of his reaction, and made a mental note of doing it again in the future if you had the chance.

“So… You like it?” he asked after you seemed satisfied with your exploring.

“To be honest? Yes and no” you replied, going back to hugging him and talking to his reflection with your cheek smushed against his chest.

“I like that I can hug you like this and almost reach around you without the spikes. I like how warm and soft you feel” you explained and he smiled. “But I also really like green and spiky Raph, who is so very gentle with me and makes me feel safe.”

Raph’s arms tightened around you, giving you a kiss on the top of your head.

“Maybe we can borrow the broach in winter for cuddles?” he suggested, slightly swaying you from side to side. Now that was a compromise you could get behind.

🟠 Mikey

The only way to describe how he looked was adorable.

Since he was more petite and lighter, you figured you could give him a piggyback ride for once.

You also loved that he went with a colourful outfit and lots of accessories.

It suited him very well.

And you couldn’t get over his freckles, they were too cute!

For a while, you both just stood there curiously looking at all the details in the mirror.

Then Mikey took your hand in his.

“Whoa, so this is what it’s like to have 5 fingers!” he exclaimed, intertwining your fingers with his. You had to admit, it felt pretty nice.

While he admired his digits alongside yours, with your other hand you ruffled his hair, to which he snorted.

“That feels so weird” he laughed.

“But I bet I know what will feel nice!” you said, letting go of his hand and bringing both of yours up to softly massage his scalp.

“Oh, oh wow” Mikey basically melted away as you worked your fingers through his hair from the top of his head to the back of his neck, being careful not to get tangled in his locks. He just stood there in pure bliss, with his eyes closed. So when you were done, you couldn’t help yourself from giving him a quick peck on his lips.

He blinked a couple of times, coming out of his stupor.

“You think you could do that even when I don’t have hair?” he asked. You told him to remind you of doing so whenever he wanted. He thanked you and went in for a hug; that's when you realised there was one more thing you could do with his non-turtle self.

Without much of a warning, you bent down ever so slightly to reach under his thighs, and lifted him up with a ‘whoop!’. Mikey held onto your shoulders and instinctively wrapped his legs around your torso. You gave him a smug smile.

“This is new” Mikey commented, an ever so light blush adorning his cheeks, and you tightened your hold on him so he wouldn’t fall.

“Is it nice?” you asked. If Mikey nuzzling his face into your neck was anything to go by, you’d guess that it was.

You both knew he loved being held, especially by his brothers, so now that you could do it, he’d never want to let go.

🟣 Donnie

The only way to describe your internal reaction: that anime gif

You blushed heavily when you saw his human form.

He was too handsome for the world to see.

“It’s too much power, he’s too dangerous” you thought.

You tried to keep your cool, you really did.

He had somehow managed to bring out his bad boy persona perfectly, without losing the nerd touch.

Seeing your reaction, he gave you a knowing grin through the mirror, resting his arm on your shoulder.

“So, what do we think?” he asked with a mock nonchalant tone. “I’d love to hear your current thought process in depth.”

“Shut up” you muttered under your breath, shoving his arm off so you could face him. You looked at him for a second, then reached up to cup his face in your hands. Now it was his turn to blush, and you gave him a smirk of your own as you realised something. You didn’t wanna ruin the moment, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

“Look at you, a real boy with real eyebrows!” you cood. Donnie scoffed.

“Don’t ‘Pinocchio’ me” he retorted, but leaned into your touch. It was a somewhat unfamiliar sensation for him too, his skin being different and all.

“May I…?” you asked, gingerly stroking his cheekbone with your thumb, silently asking for permission to further touch around his face, knowing that he wasn’t a fan of that. Deciding to make today the exception, he gave you a short nod.

“How do you feel?” you asked, this time for real, as you further inspected his face and all the features he didn’t have as a turtle: nose, ears, lips, the little freckles speckled around his cheeks.

“To be honest? Kinda like a wet noodle” he replied, earning a chuckle from you. “I feel way too exposed. Too much soft flesh… everywhere. On the outside. I don’t know how you can walk outside like this every day.” You just gave him a sympathetic smile and hummed.

Once you were done with your inspection, you withdrew from Donnie, giving him one last once-over.

“Well, that was a fun experiment” you concluded. “But I feel like your human form lacks a certain… mad scientist factor, if you will.”

Donnie agreed and took off the broach, albeit correcting you with a “not mad, just science”.

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @hearteyedracoon, @koalaray, @maribatshipper, @whygz, @lovelylovelydreams

#goose feathers #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt raph x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #tmnt 2018 #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2018 x reader #rise of the tmnt x reader

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