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r2d2lover · 11 months

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The Truth Slips

Paring: Fred Weasley X Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Shameless smut without plot. Loss of virginity. Prevalence of a drinking game.

Summary: request: “i wanted to request a fred oneshot where reader is shy/bashful and a virgin and fred's his usually cocky self but sorta fuckboy-eee and yanoo they do the dirty… my guilty pleasure”

My guilty pleasure as well. Fuckboy Fred is my creme de la creme. uncanon fun silly Fred one shot.

Part 2

You nervously watch the bottle in the middle spin around. And around. And around. Until it jolted with a stop on you.

Your glance hesitates as it trails up to meet the bottle’s spinner, who’s green eyes light up with glee.

“This is gonna be so good,” Fred Weasley exclaimed with a wicked smile. He leaned back on his elbows, waiting for your next move. Gulping nervously, you reach towards him wondering how a post-Quidditch party turned into a scene from your nightmares.

Everyone who decided to partake in the game whoops and hollers as you finally reach in the middle of the circle and claim your shot glass of the clear liquid. George had suggested that the house play “Veritaserum Roulette” with a stolen bottle of the potion. While preparing N.E.W.T-level potions was a grueling task, the fun came in seeing who was able to snag a bottle from the professor’s watchful eye to share amongst the house. You decided not to inspect your shot glass and threw the liquid back down your throat, then set the shot glass upside down on the ground like you saw in the Muggle movies. You immediately felt your face get hot but you knew it wouldn’t be because you ingested any serum, rather it was the pressure of having all the 7th year Gryffindor staring you down with intense concentration.

“S-someone has to ask a question,” You stuttered, picking the shot glass back up to fidget with it. Initially when the game was introduced, it was simply truth or dare. You could’ve easily backed out if that. Now, you couldn’t stop anything that was to come out of your mouth if you chose the glass with Veritaserum. You hoped that the two questions chosen for you would spare you any embarrassment.

“Do you fancy anyone at this moment?” Angelina leaned forward, taking her hands off of Fred. She was laying herself across Fred all night, non-discreetly showing off the fact that she was his latest… “conquest” as you overheard one of his friends call the girls that swooned over the redhead. Fred shot to popularity after bringing the Gryffindor Quidditch to back to back championships and it only inflated his ego more so than it already was. Despite his poor reputation, you couldn’t deny that the girls dreaming about Fred were warranted in their pursuit. Fred and George didn’t become the star Beaters without a rigorous workout regiment that hardened their muscles and broadened their shoulders. Their rugged appearances paired with their reliable and goofy personalities made them unstoppable.

Fred also happened to be your first friend at Hogwarts, finding you crying after a particularly embarrassing flying class during your first year. He sat with you and assured you that it wasn’t a show of your skills but the result of faulty school broomsticks. From that day, Fred guided you on flying while you tutored him in Potions.

All this time later, you didn’t need flying lessons anymore, but Fred still needed Potions help. You would never admit it, but your favorite part of the week was sitting in the library with Fred absolutely engrossed in homework. You would steal glances as he nipped the end of his quill in deep thought or when he would push his falling hair out of his face. Fred’s worst trait was his lack of spatial awareness and he’d always lean in too close while you explained the more difficult concepts to him. He was always chewing a sharp minty gum and smelled of a piney cologne that reminded you of Christmas. It distracted you often and made you turn beet red when he noticed the change in your diction. This would only make Fred lean in closer, inquiring about your odd behavior. All this time, you fought off any feelings you could have developed because you were realistic. You weren’t the Quidditch player, social butterfly types that Fred dated. Angelina was a prime example. Speaking of her, your desperate attempt to avoid answering her question was null and void when you felt as if you were being puppeted to speak.

“I do,” You squeaked out. Your hands flung to your mouth, but the attempt was feeble. Everyone quickly muttered amongst themselves to figure out the next question to ask you. At this moment, you felt like a criminal on trial. The easy next question was “who?” but the chatter alluded to a deeper question. It surely appalled everyone that you had a crush. You largely avoided the dating scene despite the relentless attempts from Oliver Wood. You thought Oliver was sweet and went on a singular date with him last year, but he was only focused on Quidditch. Much like Fred.

“Who is it? Is it Oliver? If it isn’t, who?” A younger Gryffindor blurred out in excitement and you felt the same puppet feeling in your gut and as you began to answer, Fred reached over and clamped his hand on your mouth. Your face was burning so hot at this moment you were sure you were sweating.

“Hey! We can only ask one more questions. We gotta make them good. Don’t answer those,” Fred instructed, removing his hand from your face. He brushed a piece of hair that fell out of place back behind your ear, making your stomach flip. This was such a ridiculous feeling. “Did you ever bed Oliver?”

“No? N..no!” You raised your eyebrows at Fred, appalled he would ask such a question. Once you opened your mouth, more words flowed out like a broken faucet. “I’ve never bedded anyone. Oliver was always on the Quidditch Pitch and it isn’t exactly the sexiest place in the castle.”

Your statement made the room laugh, which only increased your self consciousness. You shrugged and admitted you weren’t embarrassed at the fact for never having done anything with Oliver or any man. You were already covering your face with both hands, definitely sweating at this point. The group decided to refill on butterbeer, leaving you to seal your mouth shut with a cup of water. Fred stayed next to you, his green eyes filling with a mischievous glint.

“Has the Veritaserum worn off?” Fred asked, tilting his head up to look at you. He kept unwavering eye contact that made your mind go blank.

“Not yet,” You answered, still under the influence of the potion. Hopefully Fred wouldn’t press any further or that it would wear off before then.

“Ah… So, while I have you here, you really never slept with Oliver?” Fred leaned in closer, a smirk forming across your face. You shook your head and reaffirmed what he already knew. “Why not? And don’t give me the Quidditch answer.”

“I was waiting for the right person,” You said lamely, unable to fight the potion’s effect. Fred lifted an eyebrow.

“You’ve never fantasized?” Fred blocked you from grabbing a cup of water that would render you voiceless.

“Not about Oliver. Wh-why are you asking?” You fought your thoughts hard to answer Fred’s question as vaguely as possible.

“Hey, I thought I was asking the questions here. I just wanted to know what makes the timid girl that tutors me in Potions tick,” Fred moved so close to you that you could clearly smell his cologne. Luckily, his statement wasn’t laced with a question and the potion took no effect, allowing you to shake your head shyly.

“So you said not Oliver, so who do you think about?” Fred figured out how to narrow his question and before you could stop, your mouth betrayed you.

“Us,” You said, feeling like you broke the dam. Fred’s eyes grew wide, but his body language didn’t change. You were waiting for him to recoil out of instinct or turn red. But he continued to look at you coolly, turning a cup of butterbeer in his hands. Your heart jumped to your stomach and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your flight instinct kicked in, but before you could flee from the conversation, Fred grabbed your arm and forced you back down.

“What do you think about us?” Fred’s eyes darkened with an excitement you’ve never seen before. Arousal. You could only take a big gulp before your dirty fantasies about the boy you tutored that you kept locked away spilled out of your mouth for the world to hear.

“I think about you sliding a hand up my skirt in the library. Telling me to be quiet. I want to kiss you until I can’t feel my lips. I want to see you without a shirt on. I think about you pulling my hair back to look at you while you f-“ Your mortification overtook your entire body and you collapsed before you could finish your sentence with a yelp. Fred took a hold of you before you could hit the wall, making sure to take a long look at you. His face still had the cocky smile that you’d grown to love. His strong arm that was wrapped supportively around your waist and got tighter as he tried to figure out his next question. Your squirming didn’t help and you had no choice but to be stuck in his investigation.

“Are you thinking about it right now?” Fred’s eyes flitted from your eyes to your lips and if your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest, you would’ve had half the mind to kiss him.

“Yes,” You practically slurred, unable to calm down from the situation unfolding before you. Fred ran a comforting hand up and down your back, soothing your nerves only slightly.

“Do you want to go up to my room to show me some of these fantasies?” Fred said blatantly. Of course you did and of course you let him know.

“Yes but,” You took a large inhale trying to ease your racing heart. “But what about Angelina?”

“I don’t want her. I want you,” Fred said definitively, sending a chill down your back. “Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to pressure you into anything just because you don’t have control of your thoughts right now.”

“I want you, Fred,” You said with a confidence that surprised even you. The words were genuine, the feeling of being puppeted by your mouth was gone. As you focused on Fred’s words and realized what he was proposing, you felt a simmering heat between your thighs and that you had been rubbing your thighs together to cause a reliving friction between them. But the clarity brought another realization. “You… you don’t even like me. I’m. I’m not going to be one of your conquests or whatever.”

“Gods, really are clueless are you?” Fred laughed at your out-of-character quip. He used his free hand to tilt your chin up to meet his eyes. “Did you really think I was spending all this time in the library thinking about Potions? Why the hell would I take N.E.W.T-level Potions if I was bad at it? I just had to pretend enough for you to keep studying with me.”

Fred’s confession stunned you silent. Without second thought, you wrapped your arms around Fred’s neck and leaned forward to meet his lips with yours. He gave an amused noise, kissing you back gladly. The kiss was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You were fulfilling a need you didn’t know you had, pressing deeper and deeper into the redhead’s mouth. Fred skillfully nipped at your bottom lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth when you moaned at the unfamiliar feeling. You were a little intimidated by his knowledge and your lack thereof, but the hand he was rubbing on your waist made you forget about anything besides him. He started to move a hand towards your chest and smirked wildly when you whimpered because he pulled away.

“My room. Now,” Fred said breathlessly, practically dragging you up the stairs. He hastily cast a locking and silencing charm before pushing you on the bed. Fred hovered over you, obviously delighted by your misshapen appearance. He had you pinned to the bed with one leg between your thigh and his arms at either side of your head.

The burning in your stomach only grew and Fred continued to kiss you, tasting every bit of you. He snaked a hand up your shirt, palming you through the fabric of your bra. When you least suspected it, he pulled the fabric down, pinching your firmed nipple in between his forefinger and thumb. The sensation made you moan loudly into his kisses and buck your hips up on his thigh.

“That’s a good girl,” Fred purred, continuing to flex his fingers around your breast. “Stop me if you want at any moment.”

“Take off your clothes,” Your voice was so whiny with need that you hardly recognized it. Fred only chuckled and moved his hand away from your chest to start removing your clothes instead of his. You batted his hand away and ran your fingers down his broad chest. You slowly undid his buttons, shaking from nervousness and exhilaration. Every button revealed more of his tanned muscular body that made your mouth watered. Fred continued supporting himself over you, enjoying your desperation.

When you finally managed to shed his shirt, you could barely focus. Your eyes trailed down his chest to the trail of hair on his stomach that pointed directly to the tension in his pants.

“I… I don’t know what to do,” You admitted to Fred, tangling your hands in his hair nervously.

“It’s okay. I think it’s time for me to teach you something to thank you for the last few years,” Fred said cockily, amazing you at how he stayed the same while you were falling apart under his touch. He quickly removed your clothes, tossing them somewhere in the middle of the room.

You felt vulnerable laying there in only your underwear, but Fred dragged his Quidditch-calloused hands down your body as he planted reassuring kisses on your mouth. His mouth followed his hand down until his lips were biting at the sensitive skin of your neck and his hand was rubbing circles on the soft skin of your inner thigh. You moved your hips down to meet his hand pleadingly and he took pity on you.

Fred moved his hands up to feel your arousal, circling his finger just around the bundle of nerves that begged to be touched. He knew exactly what he was doing and held your hips down with his free hand when you let out a whining groan. After teasing you, Fred slipped your underwear to the side, dragging his middle finger up your slick.

“Just how long have you been fantasizing about me?” Fred joked, breathing in as you moaned. He was barely making any movements and he had you reacting like this. Fred dragged his finger back and forth a few times before slowly pressing his middle finger into you, making sure to look up at you in order to spot any discomfort. You squirmed a little at the feeling, but once Fred started curling his finger, your body relaxed around the pleasure.

“More,” Your head sunk into Fred’s bed as your body grew accustomed to the feeling. Fred audibly smirked as he slipped his ring finger in as well, kissing you deeply. You realized his pants were still on and his fingers were speeding up from impatience. You reached down tenderly, running your fingers gently over the tent in his pants. He let out an airy breath before breaking the kiss to look at you.

“Feel it,” Fred encouraged you. His working fingers paused as he directed your hand with his free hand to his pants. Fred placed his hands on top of yours, simulating a squeeze. You copied his movement, earning a low groan from him. “Fuck… I need you right now.”

You shed your undergarments as Fred fumbled with his belt, too overtaken with lust to focus on unclipping the buckle. He finally released the leather binding and dropped his pants quickly, letting his cock fall as well. You watched with big eyes and Fred took your hand again to wrap it around his base.

“Just like that,” Fred praised as you moved your hand up and down. The friction was uncomfortable for you, so you pulled your hand back to lick a stripe up your palm and return it to his cock. The action made Fred roll his eyes back into his head and let his head drop as you continued to pump your hand up and down. “You’re so good, baby.”

Fred’s praise only made you want him more and the wanting in between your thighs got to be unbearable. As Fred was closing his eyes in bliss, you sneakily reached a hand down towards your folds to mimic his earlier actions in an attempt to ease the pressure. Fred felt you moving and quickly opened his eyes, catching you in the act. He tsked and removed your hand, pinning it by your head.

“Impatient are we, love?” Fred chuckled, sending vibrations through your stomach.

“Please,” You begged. “I want to feel you.”

Fred was impatient as you were and shifted his weight back to line himself up with your entrance. You were filled with such an excitement and nervousness that you subdued by reaching up for a kiss. Fred dragged the head of his cock against your slick folds, almost as if he was waiting for permissions.

“Fred. Fuck me,” You drawled, dizzy from anticipation. Fred let out a string of curses, then entered with a slow thrust. You let out a cry at the satisfying pain of feeling your walls stretch around Fred. He checked in again with you to make sure you were comfortable and you gave him a kiss on the cheek for assurance.

“You feel so amazing,” You slurred, eyes shutting from the pleasure. Fred slowly rolled his hips against yours, intertwining his hands with yours. He still had your hand pinned against your head and he was starting to lean forward, delivering soft grunts to your ear.

“You’re so… tight,” Fred mused aloud. You bucked your hips up to meet the friction the penetration was creating and Fred took that as a sign to go faster. He picked up his rhythm that made you sing a chorus of moans that melted into his name. Fred let curses fall out of his mouth and he picked up the speed of his thrusts, fully fucking you into the bed. Your cries only encouraged him.

Fred planted his lips on yours, creating a messy and heavy kiss that dripped with want. You tangled your hands in his hair, tugging whenever he would move to a certain spot that made your vision blur. A knotted feeling built up in your stomach like you never felt before.

“Fred… I- I’m-'' Fred understood what you were trying to get at and dropped a hand to your clit, rubbing soft circles that only tightened your stomach. With a cry, you broke from his interlocked hand and wrapped your arms around him as you nipped at his shoulder from the immense wave that washed over you. Fred laughed with such confidence it brought you back to life as he slowed down his thrusts.

“I’m almost there. Do you want me to keep going?” Fred panted, brushing a hair out of your face and kissing you on the forehead.

“Yes, please,” You relaxed back, feeling absolutely crazed. Fred dropped his head again and you reached up to trail kisses down his neck. “You fuck me so well, Fred.”

Your praise sent Fred over the edge and he unsheathed himself with a groan, spilling himself on your stomach. Fred collapsed beside you with a heave, then moved quickly to help clean you off. He climbed back into bed with you, pulling you close with a kiss.

“Telling the truth pays off, huh?”

“That, or Potions class.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fic #veritaserum #shameless smut #fic braindump tbh i needed to write #i’m sorry if the formatting is weird i’m on my phone #i chose some random pic as the header sorry it’s a deep fried pic of shots lol

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mrs-lockley · 4 months

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Once Upon a December

Pairing: Hades & Persephone AU, Miguel O’Hara x WOC!Reader (no use of Y/N) Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: Arranged marriage, implied age gap (reader is a couple centuries old and of age), mention of death and a child death/funeral (no actual death graphically described or specified), dark imagery of the Underworld, use and mentions of Greek mythology, conflicted feelings, magical realism, no time period specified Summary: In the early decades of your marriage to the god of the Underworld, you resented him for abruptly ending your maidenhood. As the decades go by, you learn that there is more to the man who rules the dead than you realize. One day, your husband takes you to Tartarus, the depths of the Underworld, to suggest a proposition.

Author's Note: Hi my little doves, I'm semi-back with a new fic! To be honest, this fic has been in my draft for 3 years (date of origin: 12/30/2020) with First Order!Poe originally, but I thought Miguel suited Hades much better. I have a few fics in my wips and it's honestly like Russian Roulette because i did not expect to complete a Miguel fic before a Jake fic, lol. Special thanks to @soft-girl-musings and @v4mpires0ap for supporting me in completing this and giving me feedback! This fic was also deeply inspired by this comic illustrated by @katadesmoi, another take on the Hades & Persephone myth. If you like to listen to music while reading, I highly suggest listening to this Once Upon a December playlist on Youtube. Happy reading! Likes are appreciated, but reblogs make my heart go warm 🤍

Tagging: @soft-girl-musings @v4mpires0ap @venting402 @musing-magpie @writefightandflightclub but only if you would like to read it!

You have seen this place before. The place where the stars fall to the earth, where the roots meet the soil, where the ocean meets the shore.

Where the dead meet the living, where the living meet the dead.

Your reflection mirrors you in the sky as you look up to the clouds with the whispering images of Earth shining down on you. On Earth, the clouds weep at the loss of the sun, but other clouds have gone soft with crystals catching the last kiss of sunlight before nightfall. Other places show the yellow sun shining over glistening forests and beaches, and some a starlight projection over snowfall.

A snowflake flutters from the sky, and you stretch your palm to watch it melt on your skin.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper.

Underneath the moonlight, the trace of a smile tugs at your husband’s lips. He moves to stand beside you and the two of you gaze at the glassy sky above.

Miguel keeps his distance, a shadow’s length between the two of you.

For a brief moment, a sparkling ember is reflected in those brown eyes, only to quickly disappear within a blink and a slight shake of his head.

Your husband was not malevolent, nor was he benevolent. Miguel was a man whose moral conviction strongly aligned with the laws of nature, life, and death. He takes no sides, but only stands in the middle, seeing nothing but carnage to his right and hearing the wailing of tears to his left.

You met him once before your arranged marriage. You and your mother were at a banquet one evening, your first banquet after the war when he caught your eye. Standing at the side of the hall with a glass of red wine in his hands, everyone fell into a hushed whisper. It was rare to see the god of the dead at a gathering like this, especially since the collapse of a universe.

As your mother mingled with one of her sisters, your curious eyes drifted into his orbit. It was as if the darkness of the Underworld followed him into the light, but you were entranced by the shadows that caressed the contours of his face. Centuries of carnage and war clouded his eyes a deep brown, but in the dim candlelight, you could see that in spite of witnessing the heaviness of humanity, there were traces of his youth in smile.

A pair of older women passed you, whispering quietly about him.

The wine looks too much like blood in his hands, one of them remarked with disdain.

But not to you.

It was difficult to not notice him with his imposing height and stature. Even as he stood to the side and in the shadows of the banquet hall, the wine in his hands reminded you of the deep crimson of a pomegranate, waiting for you to cut it open so you could taste its juices.

Smoothing your hair, you quickly averted your gaze and distracted yourself by listening to your mother discuss the upcoming spring harvest. You smiled at your aunt as she pitched in, acknowledging how the winter rain would help water the crops and contribute to a bountiful spring for the mortal universe.

But as the conversation continued, your skin prickled. It was as if something was burning you, a small flame lit on your skin and was rapidly growing into a thunderous wildfire that consumed everything in its wake.

You tried to ignore the sensation as you listened to your mother and your aunt's plan for the harvest, but the longer you ignored it, the hotter the fire burned your skin. It was as if you were thrown into a wildfire with the smoke filling your lungs, traveling to your throat, and threatening to spill from your mouth. Their voices began to fade into the distance as the roar of your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

Unable to ignore the feeling any longer, you began to look around to find the cause of your discomfort.

Your innocent eyes met his, and you could barely breathe.

His brown eyes darkened into what you would believe to be the darkness of the Underworld. It was as if he was pulling you into its depths– not seducing you into temptation– but revealing all of your secrets into the light.

All you could feel was the blood rushing to your face as he looked at you. You could not read the expression on his face as his eyes drank you in, but you could not tear yourself away. You were caught in his snare.

But as your eyes met, you saw something else. As he was reading you, you were reading him, trying to translate the pages of a book that was presented to you in an ancient language you discovered for the first time. The introduction was breathtaking, but the first chapter was consuming and inviting.

His eyes only left yours when you saw your father call and approach him. As he looked away, you too turned your eyes back to your mother and her sister. You could not hear what your father and Miguel were discussing behind you and your mother’s back, but you would soon learn that the god of the dead was blessed by your father for your hand in marriage.

There was no warning. One day, you were laying under the sun in the springfields with flowers in your hair, singing a love song from days of old. The next day, you were escorted to the world below you, climbing your way through its webs to become queen of the dark kingdom to your betrothed.

“I know you have assumptions about me.” Miguel’s voice is quiet as he speaks, barely above a whisper in the snowfall. “I cannot change them or how you feel, nor do I intend on changing your mind, but …”

His words trail off, his voice fading into the distant sound of the winter winds howling in the cavern.

Looking back up at the dome above you, you catch his reflection. A shadow crosses his stern face, its fingers stretching across his tan skin. In the dim moonlight, you could almost catch streaks of silver in his dark waves. The centuries have taken a toll on him, and while you were a couple hundred years younger than him, you, too, felt the heaviness in your chest.

“I’ve heard stories,” you tell him quietly.

His eyes remain on the sky above with an unreadable expression. The only sound between you is the silent snowfall and the white clouds that puff around your lips with each breath you take.

“Do you believe them?”

His question catches you by surprise. Your eyes widen, your breath stuttering in your throat as you think about how to answer him.

Your husband turns to you then, a stormy look on his face as he looks at you.

You remembered the stories and cautionary tales your mother told you about him. While you were tending the rose garden one day, your mother shared with you the stories she heard from the other gods after attending a banquet.

He was the reason one of the universes collapsed. He meddled into the mortal realm when he should have stayed where he belonged- in the depths and shadows of the dead.

He chased a young boy to the edges of the Underworld, all because the poor boy wanted to save his father from dying. Imagine how cruel a man could be to stop a boy from saving his father.

That man shows no mercy or remorse for the dearly departed. He only sits on his throne as he listens to their tears of sadness and cries of anguish. He would not even show mercy to a mortal man who ventured into the Underworld to bring his lover back to life– instead, granting an impossible task that doomed the poor man from the start.

Decades ago, you might have believed the whispers of the gods, goddesses, and other celestial beings as they spoke about him behind his back. For the first few decades of your marriage, you resented him for taking you away from your mother and the mortal realm. He stole you away from the sun with just a simple blessing from your father, and he had not even spoken a single word to you before making you his bride and queen.

What he did not know was that once, you ran away.

As Miguel was in the heart of the Underworld, you briefly escaped its darkness. It was winter in the land of the living, and somehow, you managed to sneak past the hounds, the souls, and the suspecting ferryman who stood at the crossroads between realms.

(Whether he knew your plan of escape or not, he did not say. The ferryman merely watched with unknowing eyes as you slipped past him.)

Your lungs ached as you climbed your way out from underground. Soil crusted beneath your fingernails, your skin covered in earth when the light of the winter sun nearly burned your eyes upon your ascent.

You did not know how long you wandered, but you walked until the soles of your feet burned crimson. The skies darkened into icy shades of gray and white before weeping for the loss of the sun and your fingertips mirrored the color of your feet.

Day turned to night, and before long, you stumbled upon an evening wake.

Outside the church, the deceased’s family mingled in the winter night. Their eyes burned with tears as their voices trembled with each word spoken. Loved ones gathered around them to offer their condolences while the children sat outside on the steps, playing with makeshift paper dolls and animals to pass the time.

You wondered if anyone saw you, but the thought of someone recognizing you never crossed your mind. While your mother advised you to stay out of mortal affairs, there was something pulling you towards the coffin, urging you to stay.

It did not take long for your heart to break.

Tears pricked your eyes as you gazed at the little girl laying inside the wooden box. You remembered her youthful spirit and jovial smile as she would sit under your favorite tree, weaving flower crowns and sharing fruit with some of the wildlife that dwelled in the forest. The nymphs and dryads spoke fondly of her whenever she visited the lake, and a few times, you remembered picking up the blooming flowers that she left behind as an offering.

Overcome with grief, you placed your hand over hers, whispering words of assurance and comfort to her. Her skin was cold to touch, but you did not shy away as you left behind a small white lily in her embrace.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, you immediately stepped aside. You assumed the man who approached the coffin to be her father as you watched him place the coins over her eyes, whispering to his daughter in their native tongue with tears streaming down his cheeks.

Your heart ached for the girl and her family as you watched them gather around her coffin. No one noticed you while you walked away, following the fallen petals of dried flowers to guide you back to the world below.

It was as if nothing changed since your brief departure. The ferryman merely watched you with apathetic eyes when you returned, his boat filled with souls as he carried them over the Styx.

You did not meet with Miguel that day, but as you wandered the Isles of the Blessed, you heard a familiar voice ring in the air.

Not wanting to be seen or scolded for wandering off, you quickly hid behind a tree. Peeking from behind the trunk, your heart warmed to see that same little girl playing in the field with a man holding her hand.

Miguel.

You watched as he knelt down to her height, a gentle look on his face as he held her hands. You could not hear what they were saying, but from the smile on her face, you knew that he was nothing but kind and gentle with her as she adjusted to her new life in Elysium.

“What is your name, little one?”

“Gabriella.”

“Gabriella,” your husband repeated as he brushed her hair out of her eyes. His fingers paused over the lily tucked behind her ear. “This is a beautiful flower you have in your hair.”

She smiled as she removed it from her ear and offered it to him.

“I had it with me when the ferryman took me here. I don’t remember how I got it, but he told me to keep it.”

You held your breath as Miguel held the lily in his hand. It was not unusual for flowers to spring wherever you went, and you wondered if he knew that you snuck into the mortal realm under his watch.

To your surprise, he smiled at her as he tucked the lily back in her hair.

“He was right. You should keep it.”

You have not seen Gabriella since that day, but you never forgot her. Whenever you walked near the Isles of the Blessed, you could hear her laugh in the wind with the river twinkling in the shape of her smile.

His question hangs frozen mid-air as the snow crystallizes around you.

Did you believe the horrid tales, after what you have seen?

His eyes search yours as the two of you stand under the shadow of the earth, its roots tangling around you.

Of all the myths and legends you heard about Miguel, it would be easy to sway you into believing he was an apathetic man who ruled the land of the dead. He stole you away from spring, but in the decades that followed since your marriage, you realized that not once did he ever try to hold you back. There were countless times you snuck away into the mortal realm, and every time he could have held you back or ordered the hounds to follow you. Yet, he never did.

Perhaps you have judged him too harshly before learning about the man beneath the mask. While a part of you still resented him for the marriage, you could not bring yourself to truly hate him.

“I would have,” you answer him quietly, “once upon a December.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, amusement briefly flickering across his eyes as the ghost of a smile tickles his lips.

In the mirror above, snow continues to fall like kisses from the earth. Its kisses leave droplets on your skin, but as you turn to your husband, you could count the snowflakes like stars in the night sky as they melt into his dark hair and brown skin.

It was one of those rare moments where there was nothing and no one else in the world but the two of you. While Miguel was known to mortals under a different name and had a duty to follow in his realm, he gave you freedom to roam his world as you pleased without fear. You were his queen, and he treated you as such in his own quiet way.

While he kept you at arm’s length, you were no fool.

“Why did you bring me here?”

The cavern almost seemed to engulf him as the moonlight shined upon him. Whispers of snow glistened in his hair, and the perpetual scowl on his lips appeared to soften the longer he gazed at the sky.

He pauses, calculating his words.

“Long before the mortals named me, I stumbled upon this place by chance. It is safe to presume that the deepest depths of the Underworld to be a frightening place of terror and grief, but it is more than what the legends say.”

Miguel takes a step forward until he is directly underneath the center of the mirror. Behind him, the outlines of a tree stretched its branches around him with its root tangling your shadow with his.

The wind continues to howl like a wounded wolf in the dead of night. While the mortals would call this place Tartarus, it was not what you imagined.

A deep ache settles in your chest, its roots ensnaring the heart in your ribs as the winter breeze fills your lungs with sharp knives of ice.

“Only once in a blue moon could I walk into the world above, but here … it is the only way I could see the mortal realm without leaving mine behind.”

His eyes seem to mist in the moonlight, and your heart softens. The fortress of the castle he built around him begins to crumble, and for the first time, you see the lone king that resides within the darkness of its walls.

The longing of the sun, the yearning for something warm, for someone to hold.

As you look up at the mirror, you remember a time when you wandered the meadow in your youth and stumbled upon a stream where the carrion birds often flocked to. The nymphs, dryads, and your overbearing mother advised you to never venture near the river, but your youthful curiosity overcame you against their best wishes.

The birds followed your movements as you stepped towards the river. Dark clouds gathered in the sky above with thunder rumbling in the distance, but you remained steadfast. White peace lilies and roses bloomed underneath your feet as you fell to your knees to peer into the murky waters beneath.

Darkness swirled around your reflection as you gazed at the water below. The longer you looked, the more confused you were as you tried to decipher what lurked underneath the surface. What could cause the dryads and nymphs to urge you to stay away from this place? What worried your mother that you found a secret beneath?

You never told them about the river, nor did you ever return since that day, but as you look up at the familiar mirror above you, you wonder if the forbidden river drifted into the Styx. Perhaps the carrion birds were the ones who guarded the river in the mortal realm.

Perhaps as you wondered and peered into the dark waters, another face watched you from below.

His voice pulls you out of your thoughts, urging you to look at him.

“I know a part of you must resent me for taking you away from your mother — and I do not blame you for it — but this…” He gestures to the mirror above, a soft expression relaxing the curves of his face, “is the only way we could see into the mortal universe. If I could bring a piece of the mortal world to you, it is the least I can do.”

Snow continues to fall with the winter winds howling around the two of you, causing a small flurry of snow to surround your two bodies. Frost begins to crystallize at your feet, indicating the official arrival of winter in the world above.

Your husband illuminates in the moonlight, a serene glow casted across his frame as he keeps his gaze on the sky. The corners of his lips curve into a lazy smile, and you could not help but think back to all the legends and myths you were taught about him, and the river that your mother warned you to stay away from.

If this was the face that watched you from below, how could you despise him for bringing a piece of your world back to you, especially when he was not welcome in the light?

“It is the winter solstice in the mortal world,” you tell him softly. The sky darkens above you, but you do not feel the cold as much anymore, not with the snowdrops beginning to surface from the frost. “The shortest day and the longest night of the year.”

You wonder what flowers would bloom in the spheres of the universe, what sky and stars the mortals see as they bask in the moonlight. While your marriage to the god of the Underworld dictated the seasons above, you lived long enough to know that the worlds above adjusted to your absence or presence in their own ways.

The first winter you spent in the Underworld, you were inconsolable. While Miguel tried to comfort you, you were distraught, crying tears of anguish into your pillow as the darkness surrounded you. For the first time, no flowers bloomed where you stepped or where you lay. Instead, only roseless thorns and weeds gathered where you walked, and in the world above, it was the worst harvest the mortals have seen in decades.

While your parents argued with your husband about the conditions and length of your stay, you blocked out their voices. The only sounds you heard were your cracks splintering through your heart as you mourned the warmth of the sun and the endless blue sky. As much as Miguel tried to coax you out of your chambers and into the dark gardens of his kingdom, you planted your roots into the ground, refusing to be anywhere near him.

Only for the winter, your father proposed. Your mother wept by his side, but your husband nodded in agreement, sealing your fate as swiftly as the seasons changed.

It took some time, but throughout the first few years of your marriage, you began to be civil with Miguel. Much like him, you kept him at arm’s length, watching him and trying to understand what kind of king he was to his subjects in the world below. While you heard the whispering lore and legends of him in your ears, you soon learned that he was not everything that the people believed him to be.

A cloud storms in his brown irises as he looks over at you, his brow slightly furrowed. “If I may ask, are you happy here?”

A bitter laugh threatens to spill from your lips, but you quickly bite your tongue.

It has been decades since you were taken to rule the world below. While you may not have lived long enough to control your godly emotions, you still felt an aching pain and loss as you grieved leaving your home.

“I did not have a choice in becoming your bride,” you answer, your voice laden with sadness and despair. “What say do I have as your wife?”

You were a younger goddess who lived only a couple centuries, but you had yet to learn the complexities of the universe. You still needed to experience the worlds around you, both above and below, but your maidenhood was cut short by the man your father arranged to be your husband.

Even with the decades behind you, time had yet to fully heal the part of your heart that grieved for your maidenhood. You were conflicted in your grief and loss when Miguel had been cordial and respectful, in his own sentimental way. A part of you may resent him, but you still did not completely understand the feelings you held towards him.

His brown eyes soften at your words, his lips slightly parted as white cotton clouds flutter in the air from his breath.

“You are not a prisoner here,” he assures you gently, approaching you as if you were a skittish deer in the woods. “I am truly sorry for the pain I brought upon you.”

You look up at him slowly, seeing nothing but remorse in his gaze. You wonder if he would ask for your forgiveness, but it was too late for that. It has been half a century since your marriage, and the world already recorded the event in the stars and the sky.

Miguel was a man of many things, but you know in his eyes, he is lawful. With the living and the dead, he merely rules over the departed to balance the universes. He only follows the rules of nature, but in godly matters, he follows the customs and traditions. A marriage only needs a father’s blessing for his daughter to be wedded without the husband needing to court or ask the bride. He broke no laws, but he did not fully understand the depths of your grief.

His voice is gentle as the winds quiet around him.

“I know it will take time for you to fully accept me as your husband, but I am a patient man. All I ask and plead is for you to give me a chance.”

The winter winds pull the air out of your lungs as Miguel turns with his hand outstretched towards you.

As you grieved the sudden end of your maidenhood, you reflect on everything you have seen. The gods and goddesses may indulge in heresy and scandals whenever they pleased, but from what you learned from their whispers, some of their stories did not reflect what you have seen.

The god of the dead was not cruel, nor was he kind. He often deals in absolutes and ultimatums, with the universes remaining in balance as he ruled over his domain.

Even so, you remember Gabriella’s smile as he held her hand in Elysium. A child taken too soon, but found comfort in the man who guided her to the Isles of the Blessed.

Perhaps he was kinder than you believed.

Snow gathers in his palm as he holds his hand towards you. It would be easier for you to turn away and loathe him for the rest of your days, but something stirs in your heart.

Darkness may have taken its hold over the mortal realm, but it has not fully consumed yours.

Your fate is already written in the stars, your marriage bound in a godly affair. While you are still a younger goddess in a single web of the universe, perhaps it would do you no harm to trim the thorns that protected you and allow a rose to bloom.

Slowly, you take his hand, his skin oddly warm against yours.

Your husband smiles gently at you and raises your hand to his lips.

“I promise to love and care for you,” he whispers, “as long as you are by my side.”

Snowdrops and hydrangeas begin to bloom from the frost that dusted the ground beneath you, tangling with the roots of the tree as you walk beside him, allowing him to guide you away from the moonlight and towards the river from where you came.

A comfortable silence falls upon you as Miguel rows the boat along the Styx, the water calm and quiet on the journey away from the darkness. The winter winds begin to fade into a distant echo, and as much as you wish to turn back to gaze at the world above one more time, you keep your eyes forward.

The winter solstice may have begun in the mortal realm, but the spring solstice has begun to blossom in the world below.

And in the depths of the Underworld, the tree that holds the mirror above sprouts a single crimson fruit, a small pomegranate in the start of spring.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x woc!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman-2099 x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara imagine #spiderman 2099 imagine

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makeyoumine69 · 11 months

Text

Blood Sweat & Tears

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: It doesn't matter how far this man can go. You are ready to surrender to his possession because you are his obedient little girl.

— WARNINGS: Period sex, hurt/comfort, blood kink, oral (f), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, possessive behavior, body worship, hand jobs, marking, teasing, dirty talk, Praise kink, Mild Degradation kink, pet names, dumbification.

— WORDCOUNT: 4k

— A/N: Thank you so much for your patience, I hope you like it! Many thanks for an amazing GIF by @nikolatexla!

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] 🪓 [support]

It was a busy day at the Bellagio, the most famous and well regarded casino in Las Vegas. Shamelessly, rich people gambled here and there, not caring how much money they would win or lose. The chin-chin of the glasses mingled with the flirtatious laughter of beautiful girls whose short dresses were too seductive and all the guys around couldn't hide their hungry eyes.

Patrick Bateman loved to play roulette, it was his favourite gambling game. With a smug look on his face, he sat near the table, smoking an expensive cigar and holding you possessively by your waist as you rested on his lap.

With a haughty grin, Patrick took a chip and brought it to your lips. "Come on, darling. Blow on it."

"Do you think it will bring you luck?" You asked, a little skeptical, but did what he wanted nonetheless.

"I always feel so lucky when you're around." He winked at you, giving your bum a light pinch that made you giggle in embarrassment. "Let's see what we got."

Although you didn't know the exact denomination of the chips, you were sure that it wasn't cheap, so you got nervous when the roulette began to spin. Your eyes followed the small ball as it spun around in circles, and when the ball stopped in the red 7 slot, you heard Bateman's happy voice:

"YES, BABY!" He smooched your cheek before clapping his hands and urging you on: "Always bet on red, honey. Always."

"Wow," you smiled at him and took a sip of champagne, when suddenly you felt his big palm cupping your butt. "Hey, gentleman. Watch your hands!"

"Or what?" Patrick chuckled, pulling you closer as he puffed on his cigar. "I'm on a roll today, sweetheart. You know what that means?"

For a moment, you just stared into his hazel, magnetic eyes, and when he noticed your intense gaze, Bateman beckoned you closer so he could blow rings of smoke right against your half-open lips.

"God, you're so beautiful," Patrick murmured, stroking your chin and tilting your head to the side to admire the view. "My lucky charm."

Oh, Bateman could be such a sweet talker sometimes.

Rolling your eyes, you let him cover your lips with his plush ones, but when his wet tongue began to explore your mouth, you heard someone's irritated voice:

"Hey, young people, this is a casino, not a brothel, maybe you need help getting yourselves a room?"

You and Patrick immediately turned in the direction of the owner of the voice to see an old man smoking a cigar of the same brand as Bateman's. When he noticed this he became even angrier.

With an arrogant grin, Patrick puffed on his cigar and growled through clenched teeth: "Maybe you need help keeping your mouth shut?"

"Patrick!" You tried to calm him down, but he just shook his finger at you before turning back to the stranger.

"I'm enjoying my girl, and you don't have one, maybe that's your fucking problem?"

"Take it easy, gentlemen." One of the securities warned as he came across your table. "Otherwise I'll have to escort you out."

"You should throw these two idiots out for indecent behaviour!" The old man continued to inflame the conflict, causing Bateman to clench his fists and making you fear that he would crush the man's skull.

"Patrick, don't!" You lean on his broad shoulders, fumbling with the soft fabric of his pinstriped jacket. "We're leaving soon anyway!"

"You're just an old faggot whose destiny is to jerk off for the rest of your miserable life!" Bateman spat in the old man's face.

The growing tension between them was starting to really concern you, so you pressed a hand to your temple nervously, feeling the vein pulsate under your touch.

"Enough, please!" You didn't give up trying to cool this argument down, but the situation seemed to finally get out of control when the man got up from his seat and rushed towards you. "Patrick, NO!"

Shocked, you saw your beloved standing in front of you, instinctively trying to cover you as your safety was his number one priority. In the next second, a tall security guard came between Patrick and the old man, shouting:

"HEY! CALM DOWN!"

"YOU LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT!" The stranger yelped and tried to hit Bateman, and that was his biggest mistake, because the next moment Patrick's firm fist slammed into his confused face like in a slow motion film.

Frightened, you hysterically put a hand over your mouth, suddenly becoming hyper aware of your heart pounding painfully against your chest. "Stop! Please!" You repeated over and over, ignoring the sharp pain that coursed through your lower body. Anything you said was useless at this point, so you just gasped and blurted out: "I'm leaving!"

Biting your lower lip nervously, you spun around and made your way through the countless tables towards the exit, trying to ignore the curious eyes that only left you when you finally made it to the hallway.

Only then did you hear Bateman's worried voice as he rushed down the stairs after you:

"(Y/N), baby! WAIT!"

His words made your heart skip a beat, but you kept moving, stifling a sharp gasp. It was only a matter of seconds before he caught you in his strong arms, and no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, you couldn't. So you stopped and looked at him as he gently cupped your face.

"Darling, I'm sorry it turned out like this! But that bastard, he—"

"You could just have ignored him!" You interrupted and tried to move away, but his firm grip didn't allow it.

"He dared to say something when I was just enjoying the night with my lovely girl, how could I just ignore him?" Patrick tried to peck you on the nose, but you turned away. "Oh, come on, don't be like that! What can I do to make up for this little accident?"

"Just take me to the hotel, please," you breathed out and he finally let go of you. "I don't feel well, Patrick."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing serious." You pressed a hand to your stomach, feeling the unpleasant tingling again. "Just a little headache from the stress, you know?"

Bateman sighed deeply, feeling a little sad. It was probably the first time in his life that he actually felt guilty.

Later, you found yourself crying on the large balcony of your shared hotel room, and even the amazing view of Vegas at night didn't help.

Just as you were about to return to the living room, you heard the door slide open and saw Patrick's slightly grumpy face.

"I've been waiting for you for almost 20 minutes, are you OK?" His sudden question took you by surprise.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine! I was just... I was just admiring the view."

"Aha, and the view is so fascinating that it made you cry?" Bateman stepped closer to you without breaking eye contact. "Don't try to fool me, darling. What happened?"

You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment, but when his warm, large palm touched your cheek to wipe away your shimmering tears, you nuzzled into it, because it was exactly what you needed right now.

"Patrick, you scared me, I was so nervous that..." You hiccupped and swallowed your tears.

"That I was going to kill that guy?" He chuckled a bit strangely.

"WHAT?!" You gave him a confused look. "No! I was afraid he would hurt—"

"You?" He interrupted, caressing the back of your neck to calm down your nerves. "Darling, no one will ever touch you with a finger. I've told you so many times and—"

"Stop! It's not about me! It's about you!"

Patrick narrowed his eyes and frowned a little in confusion. "What do you mean? My behaviour scared you?"

"I was afraid for you, Patrick!" You blurted out, salty tears running down your cheeks again.

A shadow of disbelief crept across his perfect face. "You were afraid for me?" He repeated, chuckling. "'Sweetheart, you—"

"No! Don't say anything!"

"Shhh." Patrick murmured in your ear, stroking your shoulders gently. "It's OK, love. It's okay." His reassuring tone and warm embrace comforted you, but you secretly wished for more.

"Patrick…" You gasped as he suddenly attacked your neck as if he could read your mind. "Just... don't do that again."

Bateman only whispered some romantic nonsense, his strong hands were already groping your bum, and you instinctively arched your back towards him for closer contact. Possessively, he left a noticeable red mark on your cleavage, and when he heard your obscene moan, Patrick couldn't help but grin and mutter under his breath:

"Mmhm… what a naughty little kitten." A long lick across your cheek and then a sensitive bite on your throat made you squirm, but he held you tight. "I want to fuck you right here."

"Pat!" A muffled whimper escaped your shaky throat as he pressed you against the balcony railing and spread your legs with his knee. "Wait!"

Only after kissing you hard on the lips did he stopped and allowed you to speak.

"Why? What's wrong?" He asked, giving you his most seductive glance.

"We can't do this," you were a little afraid of his reaction, but you decided to be honest with him, just like he asked you to the other day. "I'm... I'm on my period right now."

You lowered your eyes as you said this, but he immediately lifted your face by the chin and made you look at him. "Baby, I'm absolutely fine with that."

"But..." You tried to protest, feeling a stabbing pain in your lower body. "I don't know if I'm okay with this...

Patrick snickered and traced a finger along your slightly wet cheekbone. "I can ease your pain," he pecked at your temple, then moved down to the sensitive area around your ear and mused. "If you let me. Will you let me take care of you?"

Trembling, you clung to the railing behind you to cope with the rapidity of your heartbeat. "Right here? Are y-you sure? What if someone sees us?"

Amused by your innocence, Bateman shook his head quickly and looked at you from hair to toe. "Then they are lucky to see such beauty like you. Now open your legs for me, sweetheart."

Damn, the power this man had over you was overwhelming.

Without breaking eye contact, you leaned against the railing and did as he asked, pulling up your black skimpy dress.

"Fuck, I love it when you're so obedient," Patrick licked his lips briefly as he looked shamelessly at your mound. "I love everything about you, actually."

What a devil. So smug, but insanely hot.

With a sly grin, Bateman knelt beside you, and the next moment you had to stifle a nervous sigh as you felt his plush, warm lips on your leg. Inch by inch he worked his way up to your thigh, looking at you from below, his brown eyes glowing brighter than the Sun itself. Gulping, you tried your best to relax, but when he was about to push your panties aside, you stopped him with a nervous sigh.

"Sorry, I can't!"

"(Y/N), dear," You could feel how needy he was when he cupped your thigh, nuzzling against it and planting little kisses. "Just let it go. I got you."

Although he allowed you to close your legs, his large palm was still between them, ready to slip under your underwear at any moment.

"Don't you trust me?" His sudden question made you lose orientation in space.

"Yes! Of course I do!" You said without hesitation, running your fingers through his coiffed hair, making it slightly dishevelled. "I just don't feel comfortable with it…"

You expected him to be angry at your refusal, but instead he just planted a sloppy kiss on your pubic bone. Then he grinned at how cute you sounded when he did things like that.

"What can I do to make you more comfortable?" His slightly pushy tone sent shivers down your spine.

Humming to yourself, you paused for a moment to consider his words, doubting that he would back down from his urge to fuck you. It seemed like not even your periods could stop him.

"Can we do it in the shower…?" You asked and saw his smile widen. "But first, I need some time to myself."

"You can have all the time in the world, darling." Patrick pinched your ass before adding: "But only until I get bored."

You didn't say anything back because you knew it was rather unreal to outsmart him in his own game. Carefully, he stood up and watched you go out from the balcony, and the look he gave you when you decided to turn around was so fucking savage.

In the shower, you closed your eyes from the soothing sensation of the warm streams of water outlining the curves of your beautiful body. Damn, it was so relaxing that you didn't even notice Bateman standing in the doorway, admiring the view and undressing lazily, unable to avert his hungry gaze.

"Mmm, what a view." He sneered in a raspy voice, and you immediately turned around to see him completely naked.

Swallowing hard, you watched his cock bob every time he moved, it was huge and veined, it sent shivers down your spine, it made your inner walls clench around nothing. You found yourself trapped in a cage with a wild beast when he joined you, because now you couldn't run away.

Patrick closed the distance between you a little too quickly, causing a loud wail to escape your mouth. He kissed you roughly, consuming all the little pathetic sounds you made, especially when his sneaky hand slid down your belly to your juicy pussy.

"Mmhm!" You murmured in the kiss as his tongue playfully teased yours, his strong arms were wrapped around you like tight ropes.

"Baby," He exhaled through his inflamed nostrils from how fucking hard he was. "You smell so good."

"I love you." It was all you managed to say, and these three words were enough to make him growl in ecstasy.

And then you had no choice but to claw at your own palm as the sensation of his strong tongue drawing invisible ornaments along your abdomen was too much to bear. Bateman knew it before you even tried to pull away, so he gripped your ass as tightly as he could, forcing you to open up for him. The moment his mouth locked onto your swollen clit, you seemed to stop breathing and lose your ability to speak. Patrick made a guttural sound from the taste of your flavour mixed with your blood, so he continued to suck on your sensitive bud with his eyes closed.

"Ahhmm, Patty!" You were now literally sprawled against the wall of the shower, your hands desperately sliding along it in search of support.

"Mmmm, I can eat that pussy forever." He said briefly before draping your leg over his broad shoulder for better access to your soaped slit.

For a brief moment Patrick looked longingly into your eyes and stroked your inner thigh before he suddenly thrust his pulsating tongue into your hot, feverish cleft, and that sensation was wholesomely mind-blowing.

"OH MY GOSH! OHH MY G-GOSH!" Your loud scream surely could be heard from outside the hotel room, but you didn't care. "Pat-Patrick!"

The running water drowned out the dirty slurping sounds Bateman was making as he devoured your sweet little pussy, along with his wild growls, which you could barely hear, but they sounded so fucking animalistic. At one point, you found yourself balancing on the edge as his tongue played with your throbbing tip, and it felt almost electric. You grabbed his head and brought it even closer to your pulsating pussy, moaning lewdly.

"Mhmm— yeah, give me more…" He grunted before cooing at you. "Such a needy girl... your voice is so sweet, just like your tight little hole."

You were about to pass out from the sheer overstimulation when he began to lick your cunt more and more fiercely with each second, pumping his thick cock all the while. And not to mention the mind-numbing view when you dared to look down to see his handsome lower face smeared in a little bit of your blood.

"Please, t-this is too much!" You almost screamed, feeling your legs getting weak. "Mmmm— my GOD, I'mma cum, I'mma cummm!"

Patrick chuckled softly before letting the surging lust overtake his mind, and before he even realized, his thin fingers were already inside your clenching pussy, bringing you to one of the most intense orgasms you have ever had, all that while he continued to swirl his tongue around your clit.

"Ahhhh! Patrick— mmhm!" You clung to his shoulder and nearly broke in half from the violent tremors on your body.

"Just like that, darling. Keep showing me how good I make you feel." Bateman mumbled, licking your blood from his lips as his fingers kept stimulating you to prolong your climax. "Good girl!"

Dazed, you almost slipped down the wall, but he caught you and pulled you into a passionate kiss. The metallic taste on your lips made you moan into his mouth, and he used that moment to grab your hand and wrap it around his cock, forcing you to stroke it at a steady pace.

"Feeling better, babe?" He towered over you, his hands resting on the wall on either sides of you.

"Yes..." You closed your eyes because you couldn't bear the way he looked at you; his devilish and slightly mocking grin humiliated you. "Thank you, Patrick."

"Fucking hell. You're so sweet and innocent." Bateman couldn't hold back a laugh, but then he moaned, his dick throbbing in your grasp. "C'mere, honey."

"What are you doing?"

He didn't answer, just lifted you up with ease and opened the shower door. Everything that happened next was so intense that it reminded you of some of your wild dreams that you always kept as a secret from Patrick, but after the events of that night, you would probably tell him about them.

Breathing heavily, you lay on the pile of white towels that Patrick had dropped on the floor to make you more comfortable, as he was going to fuck all the pain out of you. With no hurry, Bateman kneeled down in front of your open legs, then placed them on his shoulders and kissed your ankles.

"I hope you remember that I love you too." He sneered suddenly as he pushed himself inside you. "My little girl... mmm-mine, only mine!"

A slow thrust, then another, but deeper.

"P-Patrick!" You sobbed as he pulled you up a bit to pound you harder, rolling his toned hips against yours, and it felt so fucking good. "Kiss me! Aww... please, please, p-please!"

Patrick could swear he was about to lose it right now, but he gathered all his will into a fist and tried his best not to cum just from seeing you so vulnerable and ruined beneath him. Damn, you were whimpering so loudly and so pathetically from the way his beefy cock was brushing against your soft inner walls, that he had to hang over you and shush you with his mouth.

"Argh... is this too much for you already?" Bateman looked down at where your bodies were connected — the blood on his cock was driving him crazy, but he couldn't stop mocking you. "Do you want me to stop?"

Fucking bastard!

"N-no! Don't... awwww!" You stammered when he nibbled at your neck, thrusting hard and deep into your dripping womb. "Don't stop!"

"Holy fuck, you're nasty!" He murmured into your ear before tonguing it.

As soon as Patrick hugged your shoulders and put a hand under your head, you hid your face in the nape of his neck and shrieked as his pounding became faster and sloppier. Your sweaty bodies slapped against each other, filling the bathroom with vicious sounds, and there was nothing left for you to do but wrap your legs around his loin, drowning in an ocean of pleasure every time the tip of his dick hit your cervix.

"A-awwww! Pat...mmm-Patrick!" You whimpered against his bloody lips as he lowered himself to kiss you.

Bateman growled into your mouth when you cupped his toned ass, encouraging him to go deeper, so he settled on his knees to fuck you hard into the floor with his full weight.

"Mmmhm… your pussy is clinging to my dick so greedily! F-fuck!" His hoarse voice only added fuel to the fire, you could feel the pulsing tension in your lower abdomen again.

"Pat..." You stammered as your legs started to shake. "Patrick-mmhm ahhh!"

"What?"

"C-cum… cum inside me..."

Patrick laughed before he gave you several deep strokes, pressing you closer to his body and enjoying the way you moaned under his massive muscles. "Ask me nicely, baby."

"P-please!"

"What are you mumbling?" He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes, while his other hand was buried in your hair.

"I want your c-cream, ahhh… PLEASE! Fill me up until I… I'm so full! I BEG YOU!" You were on the verge of tears, your trembling little form was ready to explode in the next vivid orgasm.

Grinning, Patrick clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Jeez, you're such a slutty girl, begging me to fill your tight hole with my cum... mmhm... today's your lucky day..."

With a low growl, Bateman suddenly pulled out of you and turned you on your side, bending your legs and pressing them together. Feeling dizzy, you didn't even want to look at him, knowing you couldn't bear how fucking savage he looked now, the sight of his huge dick covered in your blood awakening something absolutely primal in him.

"Don't you dare beg for mercy, bitch." He blurted out through his gritted teeth as he thrust into your abused cunt once more.

You had to cover your mouth with one hand as his muscular hips slammed into your fragile frame. Moaning, Patrick pinned you in place, gripping your ass and thigh, and doing his best to make the tension on your cervix unbearable. You bit your finger as you arched your back, convulsing from the multiple waves of pleasure that seemed to pierce through each pitch of your body. Patrick didn't stop drilling into your feverish slit, enjoying how dumb you looked with your eyes rolled back in your head.

"Look at you!" He snarled as his dick throbbed from the overwhelming sensation of your clenching pussy. "S-so fucking overwhelmed, mmhhm!" Bateman paused again, throwing his head back and growling loudly as he finally allowed himself to peak. "Arghhh, FUCK!"

Bateman was absolutely brutal with the way he dug his fingers into your soft skin. Later there would be bruises for sure, but at that moment you couldn't bring yourself to care as the feeling of his warm seed spilling into you became the final drop for your mind to collapse.

By the time Patrick stopped moving, you were completely numb. When you tried to move, you felt his dense cum flowing down your hips. You didn't even tried to resist when he possessively spread your legs to smeared the mixture of his cream and your blood all over your mound before hanging over you and making you suck on his fingers. Closing your eyes, you moaned at the salty taste and cleaned his digits with your tongue. No matter how far he could go, you would submit because you trusted him.

"Good girl." Bateman purred after you finished licking his fingers. He then pressed a soft kiss to your temple. "Why didn't we do this before?"

"Don't even ask." You laughed, looking up at his flushed face.

"I'm not going to leave it like this, darling." He covered your mouth with his, moaning softly at the taste of himself on your lips. "From now on I'm going to have a calendar of your cycle because I enjoyed this too much."

Holly shit.

I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 1 month

Note

Hello again! I've returned with another fic roulette request!

I would love to see what you can do with 2 and 31 Tech and f!reader. Please and thank you~ (Apologies for another Tech request, I'm a wee bit of a Tech girlie. ^^' )

Hello gorgeous,

I'm a Tech girlie too, so don't worry. I love our lovable nerd clone. He's so adorable.

I hope you enjoy this fic, since you didn't specify a platonic relationship, I didn't write one. I hope that's okay.

Also all the star talk is copied from Study.com, 'What Causes a Star to Shine Brightly?' article. Thank you to the writer for providing a great synopsis I could use.

Also it got a bit long at 1400+ words.

Love oo,

Just a Dream

Warning: Fluff, anxiety, force sensitive reader, possible character death, fear, nightmare, information dumping, I think that's it, if I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List | Star Wars Fic Roulette

The house was quiet, the island was quiet, not surprising when it was nearly two in the morning. You did your best to try and sleep, but you couldn’t. You kept having the same dream, a secret meeting with Imperial commanders. An explosion that dislodges a cable car. Tech hanging from a rappelling cable. No matter how hard you tried to push those images away, you couldn’t. Something about Tech dangling over nothing from a rappelling cable put knots in your stomach. You grabbed the shawl one of the villagers made you, they said you looked like the kind that indulged in warmth. She was a kind older woman, and you couldn’t say no.

You tightened the shawl around as you sat on the patio chairs that had been donated to you and the Bad Batch. It was their way of welcoming all of you and honestly, you were beyond overwhelmed by Pabu’s hospitality and openness. You never wanted to leave here.

As quietly as possible you moved the chair away from the patio table, took a seat and looked up watching the stars, trying to calm down your mind.

It was a few minutes before you heard the door to the house close and footsteps coming to join your side.

Tech sat down and looked up to the stars with you, he knew if you were out here it usually had to do with a nightmare that wouldn’t leave your mind or it had to do with some anxiety you were going through at the moment.

“Do you know a star is a glowing body of gas and plasma? The reason a star glows is that it uses nuclear fusion to fuse hydrogen atoms into helium nuclei producing both heat and light. Scientists can determine what elements make up a star by looking at the emission spectra of the light they produce.”

You turned your head looking at him smiling, enjoying listening to his voice.

“There’s a star that is known as a red dwarf star, it’s smaller and cooler than main-sequence stars. However, due to their dimensions and cooler temperature they are too dim to be seen by the naked eye. You need a telescope in order to see them. And some have been estimated to have a life span of 10 trillion years.”

As you listened to his soothing voice you couldn’t help but smile and keep looking at him as you turned fully to face him, keeping the shawl close, shutting out the cold air.

“What other star is there?”

“Well I’ve also read about red supergiant stars. Now these stars have fused all their hydrogen, so now they are fusing helium into carbon. Causing the star to expand in size until all the helium runs out in about one to two million years. The stars with the coolest temperatures appear red, and when a red supergiant star dies, it explodes into a supernova.”

You smirked as you listened to him, “When did you learn all this stuff about stars?” You asked him as you watched him turn his head to look at you.

“When I learned you enjoyed looking at the stars.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. You are important to me, and what you find enjoyable is important to me too.”

“You’re always there for me, aren’t you?”

"I will always be there for you. Whether you need me to simply info dump so your brain turns off, or you need someone to sit beside you in silence and hold your hand. I’ll always be there for you.”

As he said those words the image of him dangling from the rappelling cable came back into your mind, your smile fading as the sense of dread from before filled you again.

He didn’t have to ask to see what something was wrong, he moved his chair closer, and gently caressed your head, holding your hand, “Hey, hey, shhhh. Shhhh. You’re okay. Hey, look at me.” He tilted your head, using his forefinger to lift your chin, until your eyes met his.

“What’s wrong?” He gently wiped the tears that had been silently falling down your cheeks, “What is it? Was it a nightmare?”

You simply nodded afraid that speaking what you feared may come true.

“Was it a bad dream?”

Well that’s the thing, it wasn’t necessarily a bad dream, but the feeling that came with the dream is what made it worse. It was almost as though your heart was preparing you for a loss that you hadn’t even experienced yet, “I … I don’t know.” You finally answered, giving the only answer you really could.

Tech tilted his head as he looked at you, slowly guiding you out of your chair, to sit on his lap as his arms wrapped around you, gently rubbing your back as you tucked your head into his neck, wanting to hide from everything.

“Well… can you tell me what’s got you so upset. Was it something in the dream? Or was it something you realized because of the dream?”

“It …. It didn’t really …” you took a breath and closed your eyes as you wrapped your free arm around Tech holding him close, “It was about you.”

“Me. Okay. What about me? Did I say something wrong?”

“No.”

“Was I mean to you?”

“No.”

“Did this have to do with a mission?” You were silent. “Okay, a mission. Did something go wrong in the mission?”

“I don’t know… I think so. I saw an explosion.”

“Okay. Explosion, was someone injured because of the explosion?”

“No.”

“Was I in danger because of the explosion?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, well what can you tell me?”

“You were dangling.”

“Dangling. Was I holding on to something for dear life, dangling? Or was I gripping onto Wrecker’s arm, and waiting for him to pull me back to safety dangling?”

“You were hanging over nothing from a rappelling cable. I know it doesn’t sound bad, but … I have this feeling.”

“Feeling?”

“Yes. I feel as though … I … I’ll lose you.”

Tech didn’t speak for a second, processing what you were saying, trying to understand the fear that had somehow embedded itself into your heart.

“So … you think I’ll die on this mission that we haven’t planned or even expected.”

“I don’t know how to explain it, but … I feel something big is going to happen, and because of that … we’ll be forced to make a decision. And because of that decision … I’ll …” your voice died down, barely above a whisper as you were about to answer him, “I’ll lose you. Forever.”

He let out a sigh, as he turned his head to kiss your forehead and wrapped his arms tighter around you, “Death is part of life, cyar’ika. You know that, I know that. These dreams … I know your force sensitive, not a Jedi, but at least somewhat knowledgeable of the force, and … it could mean a lot of things. It could mean that I’m simply dangling out in the open for a short amount of time. Could mean that I need to pack a second rappelling gun, in case the first one gets jammed it doesn’t mean I’m going to die.”

He took a minute to breathe in your scent leaving another kiss on your forehead, “And even if I die, it won’t change how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you. Ner cyare, please know that the time I’ve spent with you, being loved by you, having the privilege to love you in return has been some of the happiest and most loveliest days of my life. I look forward to every morning and night, because you’re there to make it better. I’m not saddened by the fact I may have to face my death, because I have no regrets.”

“I don’t want you to go” you stated, trying to fight back the tears despite the pricks you felt, “I’d rather have you alive and beside me. I …” you voice trembled as your bottom lip quivered, “I’m not ready to let you go.”

“Cyare, it was just a dream. I’m not going anywhere. Like I said there are no missions we plan on taking or are planning. I’m going to be right here.”

Tech held you for the rest of the night, even when you went back to your quarters, he didn’t stop holding you, keeping you pressed against him hoping to calm your fears and worries. He didn’t want to tell you, but the fact you may have dreamt his death, unnerved him a little. He shook the idea out of his mind, there was no need to worry. There were no missions coming up.

At least that’s what he thought, until he received the distress call from Crosshair.

Main Master List | Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

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howlonomy · 2 months

Note

Idea for dt clover monster

1- 6 shooter, where the board gets split into 6 sections and you have to remember how the rounds were loaded into it

2- buckshot, where clover will shoot the board with a shotgun but the rounds fan out like the astral dreamer attack

3- lasso and lazer where the board is lined up with a double barrel shotgun and the soul is tied to the center having to avoid each shot from each barrel

4- clover will slowly move their talons in and you have to fire at them to keep them away

Beyond that I’m not sure, maybe they use their wings to block attacks?

yall are way more creative than me with this kinda stuff AHDJSJCN but ill add my own thoughts!!

YELLOW ATTACKS; If you get hit with one of DT!Clover’s yellow attacks, your HP gets sucked out and used to heal DT!Clover instead (similar to Ceroba’s red attacks).

1) Six Shooter —> Russian Roulette: In a very similar vein, you watch a (yellow colored) round be loaded into a revolver; you have like half a second to react to a reticle being put on your soul before it’s fired and it’s either a live round (normal bullet attack) or a yellow round.

2) Buckshot: Huge shotgun attacks that explodes into stars. The stars explode into SMALLER stars. Very bullet hell.

3) Prey: Similar to Ed’s attack, you have to avoid Clover’s talons grabbing you; if caught, you are stuck in one place and aimed at by either feathers, stars, or revolver shots. Very difficult to move and avoid attacks if caught.

4) Blackhole: Extending their wings, their inner wings turn into the void of space, sucking you to the top of the battle box. You must avoid swipes from their claws or shooting stars coming out of their wings.

5) One Last Hurrah: Similar to Zenith Martlet’s attack where the screen goes huge and she flies towards you (idk the name lmao); Clover’s tail splits into four; they slam it into the battle box, yellow shards spraying. The main attack is DT!Clover’s SOUL charge up an attack and shoot towards you. They swat your bullets away with their tail, you can’t hurt them during this attack.

EXTRA CHALLENGES: As the fight goes on, lighting surrounds attacks that have things to do with DT!Clover’s physical body; such as their talons or wings. Extra damage, and occasionally yellow! A lot of simpler attacks also overlap, like how Zenith Martlet has like 3 different attacks going on every round. Things like TNT explosions, gunpowder lines you have to avoid (or else it will explode), and gunshots that shatter the battle box into segments (so you’re stuck in one section unless you take damage to move through the cracks).

You would have to aim for DT!Clover’s soul with bullets to hurt them! No other spot would damage them; just their soul. idk how all this would work in an actually game but this was fun to theorize and think up >:]

#monster clover au #asked and answered #undertale yellow #whew this was a big one!! but really fun!!!!#i think for their final final attack (killing no mercy clover) they would super level up LOLL #and their tail looking like a save point was accidental but it very much reminds me of predators that mimic prey to lure in their own prey #very fun thought!!!#mcau lore #mcau au #mcau doodle

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nosnexus · 2 months

Text

As promised, some of the changes I made with composition of the last piece (when I remembered to capture it)

First draft was the kids tumbling through the air chaotically in various poses. Riz running to his extracurricular activities, Kristen hunched over , etc (Gorgug, Fig, and Adaine managed to keep their initial poses with some tweaks). The Stress crystals were going to be tumbling through the air with them.

I ended up scraping the composition just because it didn’t quite have a good flow with some of the poses I chose. And I mean, look, Gorgug is like kneeing Kristen in the head, Fig is kneeing Fabian in the armpit, Riz looks like he's gonna be kicking Fig in the elbow - it's a hot mess, people.

Then, originally, I had the wheel the kids were on as a roulette wheel of sorts, that was going to be backlit with the various downtime activity icons (I adjusted one or two to be more applicable to the kids' activities). And the middle area had a constellation of Cassandra that was positioned behind Kristen's head like a halo - I played around with cracking the wheel with the red crystal light and having it distort the picture of Cassandra too.

I really liked the roulette vibe, but it ended up making the piece too busy with too many contrasting colors and really took away from the characters. I had the idea of a cork-board/dartboard given to me by my partner and the brown + teal + red crystal glow looked VERY nice, so I rolled with that!

Bonus alt compositions and initial sketch from the Party Politicking piece! I was originally really wanting a hard forced perspective and was going to include Cassandra and YES! on the ground in the empty space surrounding Kristen. After staring at it for too long I felt it was a bit too cluttered and I could convey the tone well enough with Kristen's expression and with color, so those (dope) extraneous details weren't needed.

That being said, I still like composition of the shadow of the shrimp jump cast over Kristen.

Thanks for joining on a very chaotic glimpse into my process! If there's one thing I've learned with these covers it's: EDITING IS IMPORTANT

#nexus talks #I'm sure some creators have a more methodical way of going about it #I tend to resketch and refine lines 2-3 times before I'm happy #especially with tricky perspectives

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1-800-deactivatednearu · 1 year

Photo

[i.d.: 4 part screenshot repaint of emesis blue, of the russian roulette scene. images as follow:

close up of blue soldier. text stylized to look like a closed caption reads: “SOLDIER: You’re going to make it, Fritz.” the scene is in very blue light.

blu medic, bloody, seated across the table from soldier, holds a revolver under his chin. he is half lit in red light. “MEDIC: I know.”

“[SFX: BANG!]” the muzzle flare from the revolver lights everything in sudden bright light. medic shoots his brains out.

the scene takes a wide shot. soldier, spy, and previously medic sit at a table under a lightbulb, black briefcase on the table. medic is in the family guy death pose, the revolver by his side. the scene is still largely blue, save for medic in a red spotlight. reactions are as follow: “SOLDIER: NO! / SPY: Goodbye, Dr. Ludwig.“ /end i.d.]

yes i did 4 paintings for a barely noticeable joke

references under read more :)

[i.d.: 4 screenshots of the scenes referenced in the redraws. /end i.d.]

hey thanks for making it this far :) here is a lovingly rushed drawing of the fourth image

[i.d.: rough sketch of spy and soldier standing at a table. they both look at a dead medic in the family guy death pose on the floor. soldier is frowning. /end i.d.]

#tf2 #emesis blue #blood tw #suicide tw #<- not sure if this is totally true #its a self inflicted gunshot wound though #tf2 soldier #tf2 medic #tf2 spy #my art #keep forgetting that tag #team fortress 2

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wisteriagoesvroom · 4 months

Text

playing pinterest roulette and seeing what AUs i can make up based on the pics (part 1 of ???)

so this is a charlos AU, where carlos is not a racecar driver but went to a top university and eventually became a speculative fiction writer instead. his first book was an ambitious story about the theory of relativity as told through a series of art heists.

except: strange things start happening as carlos works on his highly anticipated follow-up, which is set to the backdrop of the monaco grand prix. in his restless nights, he keeps dreaming of a down-on-his-luck f1 turned getaway driver named charles.

it's a snowy winter's day, and he's stuck on the fifteenth chapter of the draft, wordsmithing a line that's going nowhere, staring at his laptop. nursing a café con leche that's quickly going cold. the doorbell keeps buzzing, and in his annoyance he opens it, about to give the delivery guy or some unfortunate christmas carollers a piece of his mind –

only to stare right into a pair of forest green eyes.

"it's mass. with time and space." charles says. carlos is too confused to even process how the figment of his imagination has appeared in the flesh. charles barges past him, fully takes up space in his apartment.

"the speed of light defines the relationship between energy and matter." charles continues, brushing ice off his gloves, face red and hair a mess under his beanie. "that's what you were thinking of. and don't stop on my account. i am so curious to see how this ends."

carlos stares, and stares, and stares. his hand has not moved from its death grip on the doorknob.

several thoughts flit through carlos's mind. uh, my macbook can do magic realism now? is this what they meant by writers being too close to the text? dios mío...¿tengo que ir al hospital??

carlos settles on: "how are you here?"

charles smiles, clutching his gloves betwen his hands. boyish and rueful as carlos ever dreamed him to be. "well. you are the one who created me, no?"

----

originally from a pinterest prompt -

letting the first pinterest posts choose my vibe - first real person, character, quote, outfit

tagging whoever wants to play it too!

#charlos #1655 #f1 rpf fic #wisteriahcs

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sleepingdeath-light · 1 year

Text

listed below is everything that i have published for my 2022 kinktober writing event - listed by date of publishing and updated daily between the 1st and 31st of october.

minors please do not interact with any of the content outlined here! thank you!

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

os = one shot ; hc = headcanon set

(readmore used because there are 60-something links to scroll past)

day one ; edging

os . “in the dead of night”

feat. masky (marble hornets) and an amab!reader (they/them) + dub con

hc . howl pendragon (howl’s moving castle)

hc . clotted cream cookie (cookie run kingdom)

day two ; gun play

os . “russian roulette”

feat. din djarin (the mandolorian) and a female!reader

hc . undertaker (black butler)

hc . natasha romanov (marvel)

day three ; overstimulation

os . “cry for me”

hc . steve rogers (marvel)

day four ; breeding kink

os . “the heir”

feat. prince caspian (the chronicles of narnia) and a female!reader

hc . bruno madrigal (encanto)

day five ; impact play

os . “one more time”

feat. mean dom!light yagami (death note) and a gender neutral!reader (they/them)

hc . vincent phantomhive (black butler)

hc . the grabber (the black phone)

day six ; praise

os . “pretty little thing”

hc . daycare attendants (five nights at freddy’s)

hc . jason voorhees (friday the 13th)

hc . sawyer brothers (texas chainsaw massacre)

hc . thomas hewitt (texas chainsaw massacre)

day seven ; hair pulling

os . “weary head”

feat. l lawliet (death note) and a gender neutral reader (they/them)

hc . affogato cookie (cookie run: kingdom)

hc . hawks (my hero academia)

day eight ; body worship

os . “lady in red”

feat. grelle sutcliffe (black butler) and a male reader

hc . undertaker (black butler)

hc . padmé amidala (star wars)

day nine ; daddy/mummy kink

os . “his baby”

feat. erwin smith (attack on titan) and a male reader

hc . jane foster (marvel)

hc . dark!wanda maximoff (marvel)

day ten ; consensual non consent

os . “tourist trap”

feat. otis b. driftwood (the firefly trilogy) and a female reader

hc . bucky barnes (marvel)

hc . asa emory (the collector)

day eleven ; pegging

os . “something new”

feat. tony stark (avengers) and an afab reader (they/them)

hc . korrasami (legend of korra)

hc . valkryie (marvel)

day twelve ; multiple penetration

os . “at world’s end”

hc . slenderman (creepypasta)

hc . hela odindöttir (marvel)

day thirteen ; oral

os . “hell and high water”

hc . eyeless jack (creepypasta)

day fourteen ; knife play

os . “born to rule”

hc . jesse cromeans (laid to rest)

hc . azuma genkaku (deadman wonderland)

day fifteen ; deep throating

os . “king for a day”

hc . baby firefly (the firefly trilogy)

day sixteen ; hand jobs

os . “the consort”

hc . natasha romanov (marvel)

hc . newt scamander (fantastic beasts)

day seventeen ; shower sex

os . “after dark”

hc . levi ackerman (attack on titan)

hc . jennifer check (jennifer’s body)

day eighteen ; threesome

os . “scream for us”

hc . eda clawthorne & raine whispers (the owl house)

hc . gomez & morticia addams (the addams family)

day nineteen ; temperature play

os . “pathetic mortal”

hc . frost queen cookie (cookie run: kingdom)

hc . dabi (my hero academia)

hc . marvel woman (multiple film series)

hc . fire spirit cookie (cookie run: ovenbreak)

day twenty ; gagging

os . “quiet, love”

hc . saeyoung choi / 707 (mystic messenger)

hc . scp 035 (scp foundation)

day twenty one ; sensation play

os . “training”

hc . queenie goldstein (fantastic beasts)

hc . scp 049 (scp foundation)

day twenty two ; collaring

os . “new pet”

hc . sirius black (harry potter)

hc . sinclair brothers (house of wax)

day twenty three ; face sitting

os . “good boy”

hc . wanda maximoff (wandavision)

hc . marauders (harry potter)

day twenty four ; exhibitionism

os . “disciple”

hc . tom riddle (harry potter)

hc . captain caviar cookie (cookie run: kingdom)

day twenty five ; thigh riding

os . “the reward”

hc . charlie morningstar (hazbin hotel)

hc . scp 035 (scp foundation)

hc . remus lupin (harry potter)

hc . original avengers (marvel)

day twenty six ; bondage

os . “all wrapped up”

hc . jumin han (mystic messenger)

hc . hoodie (marble hornets)

day twenty seven ; voyeurism

os . “secret admirer”

hc . ticci toby (creepypasta)

hc . misa amane (death note)

day twenty eight ; breath play

os . “three, two, one”

hc . bo sinclair (house of wax)

hc . tiffany valentine (bride of chucky)

day twenty nine ; pet play

os . “pretty piggy”

hc . sebastian michaelis (black butler)

hc . harley quinn (birds of prey)

day thirty ; period play

os . “the urge”

hc . alcina dimitrescu (resident evil village)

hc . trancy demons (black butler)

day thirty one ; degradation

os . “stupid bitch”

hc . philip whittebane / emperor belos (the owl house)

hc . angela blanc & ash landers (black butler)

#sleepingdeath #minors dni #kinktober 2022 #minors will be blocked #ageless blogs dni #ageless blogs will be blocked #writing masterlist #kinktober masterlist

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radisprettysick · 4 months

Text

Buckshot

Sukuna x Reader // A game of russian roulette

TW// guns, violence, mentions of death, mentions of drugs, p in v, mentions of blood, dubcon,

please let me know if i missed a tag

You were scared out of your mind. But that was part of the reason you were here tonight. You couldn’t help the attraction to danger and adrenaline. Your heart was beating out of your chest to the loud rave music.

You had heard about this club while high out of your mind with probably the worst people to be vulnerable around.

“Sign here.” You are greeted with a brusque voice handing you a clipboard with a piece of paper attached to it. General Release of Liability. Great. You pick up the attached pen and sign away your rights. You are lead upstairs of the underground club. The pounding of the music somehow got more intense as you climbed the old metal stairs. At the end of the hallway upstairs there was an office door with the blinds shut tight. As you got closer you could see splashes of red peeking out from behind the door. A reminder of how stupid you were being right now. But rent was due in a week, and you needed the money.

The security guard who was guiding you opened the door for you. “Good luck.” Before leaving, he attached two wires to your chest. In the middle of the room was a pool table without any of the balls or sticks. White lines were drawn over it and next to the table was a defibrillator along with an IV stand. The rest of the room was too dark to see past the table. There was a chair in front of you on one side of the pool table, so you took the seat and waited for your opponent to arrive.

After what seemed like 10 minutes, a door in the back of the room opened and closed. You could hear footsteps approaching you and the pounding in your chest returned with every heavy step. He reached the opposite end of the table before stopping. You brought your eyes up his stomach, his chest and finally to his face. This man was huge. Covered in tattoos. And another reminder of your stupidity.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here? Just so you know, I am not going easy on you just because you’re a girl sweetheart.” His voice definitely matched his aura. Something about him made you feel uneasy. Besides the fact that you were about to put your life in his hands, he made you feel a deep anxiety. Something you couldn’t quite place.

“I-I don’t expect you too.” Your voice comes out so much weaker than you intended. This was not the first time you ever risked your life but something about him added so much more fear into your system.

“Oh, you poor thing. You sound so scared already” He let out a light chuckle from your fear. “The rules are simple. I load the bullets in a random order without looking and we each get a turn to fire either at ourselves or the opponent. If you shoot yourself with a blank, you get to go again. Got it?”

You had a feeling he didn’t really care for an answer, but you gave one anyway. “Yes.”

The middle of the table opened up and a shot gun along with 3 bullets next to it appeared. One bullet was red and the other two black. He grabbed the shotgun and the bullets and proceeded to fill the chamber.

“Since you’re a cute little thing you can go first.” He grinned and slid the gun across the table to you. With shaky hands you held it and contemplated whether you should shoot yourself or him. It was a 66% chance that the shot was a blank. There was a higher chance that you could shoot yourself with a blank and get a second chance for a 50/50. With a deep breath you held the barrel under your chin, closed your eyes and silently hoped for a blank.

With a pull of the trigger, you heard a click. Nothing happened. You got a blank.

“Someone’s lucky.” You look at him and see him grinning with no hint of fear in his eyes. It doesn’t feel like he is even a tiny bit scared of you possibly shooting him. More confident this time, you aim the barrel at him and pull.

Another click. It was a blank. And now it was his turn. The only one remaining was a real shot. You were going to be shot. You slowly put the gun back in the middle and felt your heart drop to your stomach.

“Ah maybe not.” He picked up the gun and with ease aimed at you. “I did warn you I wasn’t going to go easy on you.” He pulled and the barrel let out a loud bang.

I really should not have come tonight. This was how my life ended. In a shitty club playing Russian roulette with a guy who could most definitely end my life with his own hand if he wanted.

You felt a huge shock and woke up coughing on the floor in front of the door. You heard the man laughing at your patheticness. You grasped at your heart when you felt the wires that the man had attached earlier placed. Ah. So that is how the game advanced. If you got shot, you would be brought back with a shock to your system.

“You ready for round two doll?” More bullets rise from the table, and he again grabs them to start filling them. While sitting back down and still coughing, you notice a screen on the side of the table displaying the score. ‘Sukuna: 3 // Guest: 2’. So, he was already up by one. You felt your body start to focus up more as the pain from being shot wore off a little. You knew you would feel this tomorrow, if you made it that long, but right now that didn’t matter. You had to win. For the prize money. You gave him a silent nod and with that round 2 began. This time it was 3 red and 2 black. There were more real bullets than blanks this time. “You are first again.”

You grabbed the gun, still with trembling hands, and debated silently whether to fire at yourself or Sukuna. “I’m curious of why someone like you is playing this game. Here.” You brought your eyes up to meet his. His eyes were red. And now you realize why he made you uneasy. He didn’t feel human.

“I needed the money. Plus, I’m an adrenaline junkie.” You started to point the barrel at him, deciding that you would take your odds of the first shot being a real one. You pulled the trigger and heard a click.

Fuck.

“Hahaha… you know there are drugs to give you that rush right? Hand that over to me doll.” He reached for the gun as you slid to the middle. Without wasting time, he pointed it up at himself and grinned like a maniac. He pulled the trigger, and it went off.

He shot himself. Your eyes went wide, and you felt your heart stop. You stood up from the table to try and get a look at him before you heard a huge gasp of air and some coughing. He got back up and into his chair like nothing happened. Still smiling like the fucking devil.

“Shit luck. Your turn.”

The rest of the round went on until you shot him after the blanks had been used up. ‘Sukuna 1//Guest:2’ You actually had a chance at winning this. Bullets once again rose from the table and this time it was 5 red and only 2 blanks. And he started the round.

He held the gun in his hands and thought for a moment. “You know…it’s been so long since I only had one life left. Say what… if you win, I’ll throw in some extra cash. But if I win…. I want something in return.” What was he doing? He was on his last life right now. There was no way he could get two shots on you without getting one himself. “What do you say cutie?” You hesitated before giving him an answer. “Sure. But what is it you want?”

“Oh, you’ll find out when I win.” He then aimed the gun at himself and pulled. Click.

No fucking way. There was only one blank left, 5 real shots left, and now he gets a second chance. He then aimed the gun back towards you. Sukuna pulled the trigger and the barrel exploded. You once again felt a shock while regaining consciousness on the floor. You struggled for air and pulled yourself back into the chair to continue playing. ‘Sukuna:1//Guest:1’. With a rush to get the game over you grabbed the gun into your hands. If he can get lucky, maybe you can too. Your hands were shaking, you still couldn’t quite catch your breath, and you could feel your heart in your ears. You pressed the gun right under your chin and with one last breath pulled the trigger.

You felt another shock you your chest and was once again on the floor. You lost. You felt so fucking stupid for risking that chance. You sat on the floor. Now that the game was over you started to realize what position you were in. You were just shot three times. Why did you do this? Why did you play this game?

Sukuna laughed as he stood up from his chair and walked around the table towards you. He crouched down to be closer to face-to-face with you. He raised his hand up and you instinctively flinched. He put a piece of hair behind you ear and held your chin in between his thumb and index finger. “Aw you poor thing. You lost… well that means I get my prize now.” He moved his hand from your chin and further down your body until reaching the edge of your mini skirt. “I see you came dressed for the occasion.” His grin grew even larger and now you really felt like an idiot. Your brain went numb slowly realizing what was about to happen. Your heartbeat started to drown out the noise of the club, your palms were coated in sweat, and your chest felt like it was going to explode at any moment.

His other hand reached for the wires on your chest and tugged them off of you without care. While the hand teasing the edge of your skirt moved on to gripping your exposed thigh. “It is really a shame you lost.” You heard the desire in his voice more than the actual words themselves. He was toying with you the entire time. This was never a fair chance. Why else would he make a bet with you?

His hand moved further up and started teasing your clothed slit. “Ooo well I guess you aren’t too sad about losing. Your pussy is fucking dripping.” He was right. You weren’t lying when you said you were attracted to danger. And this entire night has been nothing but that. This man in front of you was practically the devil himself. He pushed your back onto the floor and that is when it really clicked in your brain what was happening.

“Wait no please” You started to actually cry for your dignity. All the dumb stuff you did in life this had to take the cake. He used his thumb to wipe your tears before groaning to himself.

“Fuck baby, I barely touched you and ya already cryin? Just wait until I actually get started.” You tried to stop him from pulling your skirt and underwear down but there was no stopping him. His arms were probably bigger than your legs. “Shit doll you really were waiting for this huh?” He started to rub your clit with his fingers before using his other hand to unzip his pants.

His cock was huge. There was no way he was fitting. You started to cry even more and still attempted to push him away. He was still smiling at your pathetic state. Such a dumb little girl wandering into a place like this expecting to leave without giving up your body to him. Without bothering to actually prep you, he shoved his cock into your pussy in one go.

You let out a high-pitched scream at the sudden entrance. It felt like you were splitting open. It was too much. He wrapped his hand around your throat and started to move inside of you. “Such a dramatic little doll… don’t worry I’ll fill you so you’ll be begging for more.” With a loud groan he lifted your leg up and pressed you into your own body. The hand on your throat moved to rip your top and bra off leaving you nothing. “Fuck you’re so sexy. I knew your pussy was going to be tight from the second I saw you.” His thrusts eventually started to feel good. And you hated it. You hated that you liked this. Your body was actually enjoying this older man violate and use you. Against your wishes, you let out an involuntary moan and that was the end of your act.

“Let me hear more of how much you like being used like a good slut.” He had something over you now. You were his toy and you had to obey him, no matter what you thought. You continued to scream for him as he shoved his cock further into your pussy, hitting your sweet spot.

“Fuckfuckfuck ple-please don’t stoppppp” You were really dumb. But you were perfect for him. So easy to take control of. He loved it. He started rubbing you clit for you with his hands while continuing to bully your poor pussy. You could feel your stomach start to tighten up at the added stimulation.

“Come on why don’t you give me my prize now sweetie?” And with that, you squirted all over his dick and stomach and leaked out onto the dirty office floor. He flipped you over, giving you zero time to recover, shoved himself back inside of you. Spanking your ass and pulling you up by the throat. “Fuck I’m gonna make you mine.” He practically growled in your ear.

You could no longer think coherently with him inside of you. You could barely feel anything besides pleasure. Pleasure that only existed because of him. This man who could easily end your life. The man who was currently cumming inside of you just like he promised. He pulled out so he could watch his cum leak out of your abused cunt onto the floor with the rest of your juice. “I guess we both ended up lucky tonight.” You felt him stand up and heard a zipper before you felt a piece of clothing thrown on you.

“Put this on and come meet me in the back room.” And with that he walked away into the back leaving you completely alone.

You were stupid, but lucky. Because you had just found the embodiment of danger. And he wanted you too.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut

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anonzentimes · 16 days

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Hi Zen! This might be another difficult question for you to answer, but I'd like to ask: Which official artwork of Nagito do you like the most?

Even in the official art, he looks different sometimes, doesn't he? I am still confused as to what color his eyes are. (In a lot of fanfic they are described as gray, but in some art they are clearly blue).

I would like to know which of the official artwork, whether in games, anime or manga, is your favorite.

Whoa!! that Is a difficult question! I'll try to answer it though haha!

I have a lot of them I like but choosing one is pretty difficult... so I'll just start this answer off with a discussion on the inconsistencies statement! I believe Nagito's eyes are definitely gray, at some points it maybe hard to tell but they're definitely gray! There are a few anime moments where his eyes feel green, some promotional material straight up changes it to green, and a small amount spin off art may change it to something that can be interpreted as blue, but for the most part they are absolutely gray.

I think the only actual very small change he undergoes is his color tips? His hair always has a gradient but the colors used for it are a little inconsistent sometimes. In Danganronpa 3 they're red and occasionally purple so it's a little weird haha! Sometimes he's not drawn with his gradient at all, a slight gradient with the same color, a red gradient, or a purple gradient so it's pretty confusing. His gradient also changes with how prominent it is depending on the art if there even is one. He's drawn most often with red subtle tips though so I think that was the intention. You could probably chalk it up to lighting if you wanted Lol.

While I do love a lot of his sprites I think some of them are pretty restrictive and lack all of the emotions we know he's able to show because he does in other appearances. This is why I really like when the Mangas allow him to be very expressive beyond what his sprites can convey! I think his sprites can really excel with some expressions but falls flat with others.

Rambles about his sprites in Dr2 and his slight inconsistencies aside, a lot of his art is great! (I'm very biased) but I do have some strong opinions, positively and negatively, on quite a few of them. The main thing is that I don't know if I actually have a favorite??? It's a really difficult question.

But I do want to highlight these three dr2 cgs I really like! He isn't fully 100% consistent here but I really like them. I know a lot of people think Nagito's showing Junko's arm art looks bad but I honestly like it. Nagito about to play Russian Roulette is such an awesome moment too! The one where he has the fire behind him is not only really cool, but also a really good in game shot of most of his body from a different angle!

I truly, again, love his manga art! His specific spin off's manga has a lot of really amazing, interesting, and fun visuals! Even if I'm not really fond of the anatomy the artist uses it's still really good stuff. The Danganronpa 2 spin off mangas have really good anatomy and expressions he looks sooo good there I'm in love with it.

While I'm at it I also want to highlight his reference sheet, it's clearly consistent because that's the job of a reference and I think his expression is pretty cute here. I don't really see people talk about it so I just wanted to also bring it up Lol.

For the most part I've really struggled to directly answer your question because he has a lot of different interpretations, art, and appearances that all mix together into one mental image or understanding of what he looks like for me. I really love most all of his art so it's hard to say. Nagito has a lot of different tones in his art as well, from his crazed ramblings to happy expressions, he has so many tonally different art pieces because he excels at being sweet and intimidating. This makes it even more difficult!

In conclusion, I don't believe I can come up with an absolute answer for you unfortunately. Regardless though, I definitely learned from this that I have strong opinions on all of his art. I hope you enjoyed my appreciation for some of his art and small talk about mild inconsistencies of his haha!!

Apologies this took so long and Thank you for your ask <3

#nagito komaeda #danganronpa #danganronpa komaeda #sdr2 nagito #danganronpa nagito #sdr2 komaeda #komaeda nagito #sdr2 #danganronpa goodbye despair #nagito #dr2 nagito komaeda #sdr2 nagito komaeda #nagito art #nagito ask #nagito asks #danganronpa asks #danganronpa 2 spoilers

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shakingparadigm · 30 days

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Btw have you listened to any covers by the alstg VA? Do you have any favorites ? Just got reminded bcs omg new akugetsu cover 😮!

SO FIRST OF ALL, THANK YOU. it's amazing to get this ask actually because just this morning I was drafting a post about the ALNST VAs and how good they are! They're all so talented, and they fit their roles perfectly. I truly couldn't imagine anyone else playing their roles!

Here's a favorite cover/song of mine from each VA!

(Note: These are all just based on my personal preference, and I haven't gone very deep into each VA's discography yet save for a few. These are just the covers that I listen to most frequently! Please forgive my basic ass taste btw)

Russian Roulette (Red Velvet) by Rubyeye (Mizi's VA)!

I'm gonna be honest, I'm a very simple person. Russian Roulette is just a very cute song! And I think it suits Mizi so well, all bright, bubbly and candy sweet (at least in rhythm)!

I love hearing Rubyeye's voice no matter where it is honestly, she's rather versatile! In ALIEN STAGE, Mizi often sings slower ballads (My Clematis), or in her lower, more mature voice (Ruler of My Heart). She sounds absolutely gorgeous of course, but Rubyeye's voice in more energetic songs is such a joy to hear as well!

My second favorite Rubyeye cover is actually the Mizi version of UTTE! Can you tell that I love hearing Rubyeye's more energetic covers. Can you tell yet. I know it's very unpopular, but I love Mizi UTTE so much. The way that she sings is so incredibly charming to me, she has a lot of spunk in this cover! I love how she sang "ain't nobody but!" I honestly love that lyric more in Mizi's version than I do in the original! It holds a lot of character which I adore.

Catch You Catch Me (Cardcaptor Sakura OP) by C!nah (Sua's VA)!

Once again, I am a simple person. I can't resist a cute and sweet cover.

C!nah's light and angelic voice fits so well into this song! It sounds absolutely lovely. Plus I already loved the song beforehand, so I might be a bit biased lol

C!nah's voice in general is so unique. It has such an clear and airy quality to it! They picked such a perfect voice for Sua.

My second favorite C!nah cover is Sua's version of ROMH! I adore how Sua sings like a whisper. Her voice brings such a haunting feel to the song.

LILAC (IU) City Pop Cover by 6FU;

Being honest, my favorite 6FU; song is actually Drunk and Party.

But if we're talking covers, this one might just be my favorite due to how shocked I was upon listening to it.

Hyuna has a very energetic and rough voice, with such a strong and unique tone. I was expecting it when clicking on this cover, which was why I was pleasantly surprised to hear a much smoother, calmer voice.

And it's beautiful! I haven't listened to much from 6FU; yet, so I might find some new favorites once I do. For now, I'll keep listening to this cover over and over again.

Sweet Dream (Luka Version) by BL8M (Luka's VA)!

OKAY I know this already an Alien Stage song. I don't know if it counts but I'm putting here anyway because GOD.

THE TONE AND TEXTURE OF HIS VOICE. I'M IN AWE.

Was absolutely floored listening to this for the first time. I actually ascended

BL8M is actually one of the songwriters for ALIEN STAGE, and he sang the demo for this song!

You can really hear his expertise. He owns this song.

My "the worst person you know has the voice of an angel" post was literally about this I was going insane

THE WAY HE SANG THE PRECHORUS. THE "save me please" OUHHH...

They couldn't have picked anyone better for Luka. He literally kills every song he sings.

유우리(優里) - 베텔기우스(ベテルギウス) by PARK BYEONG HOON (Ivan's VA)!

PBH's wonderfully rich and deep voice. What a blessing.

I love how soft he sounds in the beginning of most of his covers, slowly growing in intensity until he's fully expressing the song.

The ranges he uses in this cover are so nice to listen to. I love the switching between his deeper lower voice and his soft higher voice.

Thinking about Ivan's voice in CURE and how it's probably going to sound more anguished and desperate than this makes me sick btw.

Anyways please listen to this cover he deserves the support.

Um. My other favorite PBH cover is umm. uh. The short clip of a MANIAC (Stray Kids) cover he posted on Twitter.

GUYS DID YOU FUCKING HEAR THAT ONE. CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT IT??!!! HIS VOICE. THE BASS. FUCK.

I actually went insane. Finally got to hear Ivan's lower, rougher voice and I was shocked to my core. Life changing.

Cistus (KOUSEI) by AKUGETSU (Till's VA)!

HERE WE ARE. MY FAVORITE.

So this technically isn't a cover. It's an original song that AKUGETSU sang vocals for. Sorry. I'm just so obsessed I needed to share it.

IT'S SOOO FUCKING GOOD. SERIOUSLY.

Of all the ALNST VA's I've probably listened to AKUGETSU the most (sorry. Till bias) and this song is still probably one of my absolute favorites from him.

JUST LISTEN TO IT. The guitar in the intro. The quieter vocals in the first verse that build up to a BURST of sound in the chorus. The way he enunciates everything is perfect.

AKUGETSU is such a seasoned singer. He really knows how to work his voice and knock a song out of the park. It's genuinely addicting.

This song is such a fucking banger. Till would sing this. GOD IM SO OBSESSED WITH THIS SONG.

Another absolute banger from AKUGETSU is his cover of I'm Invincible (Ado)! I love the way his voice moves, going high and low in the same line. He's such a dynamic singer.

I adore how AKUGETSU brings an energetic rock vibe to every song he sings. His voice is such a standout.

Sorry for the long ass answer! I love all the ALNST VAs and I really hope they continue to flourish! Thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about them 🙏

#alnst #alien stage #alien stage vas #alien stage till #alien stage mizi #alien stage sua #alien stage luka #alien stage ivan #alien stage hyuna #asks

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darkhymns-fic · 10 days

Text

Overtime

On his day off, Husk gets a visit from Alastor. It's routine.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters/Pairing: Husk/Alastor Rating: M Word Count: 1640 Mirror: AO3 Notes: Warning for suggestive situations here and some dubious consent. Just a short fic inspired by this art from @star-junk. It just really made me want to write something with it, so I hope it's okay!

It’s the creak of the bed that finally wakes Husk up. Wide-eyed. Fur standing on end. Vulnerable.

Maybe he should be surprised, but he's not at all. All he can think about is how damn tired he is. He’d already had to deal with errands and stocking up the bar, the crates full of bourbon and absinthe wrecking his back as he carried them. He’d had to deal with multiple grabby hands from the same eight-eyed customer, who whined about not getting his attention. And as well, any weird new activity Charlie was cooking up for the hotel residents, and pulling him into it. Not like Husk’s seeking redemption. He isn’t foolish enough to believe it could ever be for him.

There’s a small dip from behind him, on his bed. Another creak. It’s dark, but Husk doesn’t really need to see. The soft shine of red tells him everything he needs to know.

Another of his boss’s little visits.

Husk’s not alert enough to decide what to do. His limbs still feel heavy and his mouth is all dry from drinking himself to sleep. The weight keeps moving around on top of him, softly treading, like an animal through the brush. What makes it all the more eerie though is that he can’t even hear the shadow over him breathe.

That’s when he feels the hand on his wing.

He grits his teeth, then shivers. His throat rumbles with a sound he could barely restrain, still moving out of the shades of sleep.

Husk realizes too late that he’s not wearing anything. He always goes to bed bare, his own fur a bitch to deal with.

Finally, a voice.

“Dear Husker,” Alastor whispers, leaning down just a bit. The filter over his voice seems to dial all the way down to low. “You sleep so deeply. And it’s already past noon.” He tsks. “Such a layabout.”

Husk softly groans, all as Alastor keeps his hand in that same place. “Well, I was sleeping fine before you fucking showed up. And what do you care how I spend my Saturday?”

He doesn’t need to look to know how deep Alastor’s smile is, how it cuts into his face until it’s all he is.

Before Husk can even ask what’s the goddamn occasion now, the hand on his wing shifts. A thumb rubs against his feathers, the palm edging across the bend of his wing. The upper feathers are shorter, but they’re also sensitive. He’d give his own bottle of whiskey away if it meant he’d just have less of these stupid fucking soft spots of his, where any stimulation at all just did something to him.

And Alastor knows just where such spots were. Just right there, at the wing’s curve, where the feathers softened, where the red edges into the black. The wings had always been such a cruel joke, with its alternating patterns that resembled some cheap roulette wheel. It was always the one game it had been impossible for him to cheat at.

Alastor’s fingers curl into his wing, the thumb continuing to rub patterns, as if he’s memorizing every soft thread that makes up Husk’s body.

“Come on, why are you–” Husk cuts himself off, his body still struggling with the depth of his fatigue. Infuriating that this is all it takes for Alastor to get such reactions from him, and that he knows just when to do it.

But, despite it all, Husk finally gets his body to half-turn instead of just stretching like some depraved animal. His room is still covered in shadows, with only barely muted hallway light coming from the doorway crack.

None of that matters. He can still easily make out Alastor’s face, his smile like a crescent moon shining over dark woods. Red swam over both, its color searing into him. He’s still fully dressed, unlike Husk. As if he had just left a social meeting, and then went to his pet for a little play.

“Are you sure you weren’t just waiting for me?” the demon above him asks with a low laugh. “You reacted just so quickly, even for you.”

Now he’s actively trying to piss Husk off, but then there’s another touch. This time, right at the inside of his right thigh. Husk shivers again, and this time, he can’t help but arch his back, just slightly.

Alastor’s expression doesn’t change, even as his fingers part through the fur, trailing through white and black. Even as his other hand keeps weaving a soft language into Husk’s feathers. He plays his body like an instrument, fingers tapping along invisible keys that make the one beneath him sing in a melody so few others would ever hear.

And Alastor is certainly enjoying the show before him.

It’s hard to escape. It’s hard to want to escape.

But he manages to speak, even when he’s lost to the soft touches, to the way they grip and hold. They don’t let go. The fingers are greedy, and Husk is all too familiar with greed and its call.

“It’s my day off, boss…”

Even an ironclad soul like his deserves a little mercy.

Alastor leans down, never letting his fingers rest. They change course, maybe even change tempo, but the insistent petting and stroking is still enough to make Husk into a useless pile of limbs and heat. “Then perhaps you should work a little bit of overtime for me.”

The fact that he’s trying to crack a fucking joke with me now.

Husk flinches, one eye shutting as another wave of warmth rolls over him. Hard enough to sleep with his wings that keep getting in the way, that he could never hug to his body tight enough so that they just disappear. Because not even just Alastor, but everyone loves to grab them. It’s too much. He hates it. He hates how his body just betrays him like this.

“You don’t pay me enough for this shit,” he shoots out. He manages to keep his voice steady, his tone deep, at least for that. He glares up at Alastor, letting the red light leak into his eyes. It always burns when he does so, looking directly at the Radio Demon.

It’s like looking at his forthcoming death.

Alastor notices. So, he shuts his eyes. And then, he lets a hand rush up Husk’s thigh, then up his chest, until they reach his chin. He leans further down, and down. And down.

Until the tips of their noses brush against the other. Until Husk can finally hear the soft breathing from Alastor, can feel it against his fur.

“Then how about I give you a goodnight kiss in exchange?” he asks, finally opening his eyes. The glee in them is almost manic. “For always putting up with me.”

All these stupid games Alastor loves to play.

The fingers grip his chin, while the others over his wing continue their dance. “After all, I know that’s what you like.” Then, a wink, almost coy in its motion. “You’ve always been such a romantic.”

It’s stupid how Husk’s breath hitches at the thought, even when a nightmare looms over his bed, because that’s what Alastor is. The Radio Demon is every awful, heartstopping sound in the dark. He is every fleeting shadow that you see out of the corner of your eyes. He is every ancient folktale that elders warn their children about, of the monster that takes those lost souls who live on the fringes. And he eats, and eats, and eats.

But like any shapeshifting monster, Alastor can look as pleasant as he wants. And right now, his voice is soft, and his hands still play Husk for every note he can find.

Husk opens his mouth, trying to breathe. He lets his tongue run over Alastor’s thumb, which presses just against his bottom lip. Everyone does play with his wings, but only Alastor knows just how to use them to full effect.

“Deal,” he says. It’s barely audible, like the last breath of a dying man. But Alastor understands. He always does.

The kiss is different from the touches. Alastor is a hungry demon, and he shows it through his mouth the most. Lips press down deeply over Husk’s own, and sharp teeth clash. It’s hard and biting. The kiss stings Husk’s tongue, overwhelms his mouth. It’s like being force fed poison all the while.

But the poison is spiked, because kissing Alastor is always so, so addictive. Husk leans his head up, drinks from it as much as he can. He feels the hand wander down his feathers, move between them and pull gently. Because he likes the texture, Alastor once said to Husk. It calms him. It’s pleasing.

Sometimes, he even takes a feather for himself, using it as a quill. And Husk has to see it in the boss’s room sometimes, a piece of himself that is being used, again, and again, and again–

Husk’s wings move to stretch and wrap around Alastor, like a shroud made with red and black, studded with stars and symbols. He brings the nightmare closer. It’s only half against his will.

Maybe one day, he can make them both disappear.

“More,” he groans out, staring into the red, like falling into a sky at dusk. “If you’re gonna make me work like this.”

The shadows don’t hide for him. They grow into shapes that stretch from Alastor’s head, that cover up the walls into pitch black. He doesn’t care, feeling the promise of that kiss again as a tongue presses against his lips.

“Oh, Husker. With me, you never have to work a day in your life.”

He’s too lost to get angry at the comment.

Alastor wears Husk’s wings proudly around his shoulders as he steals him away once again.

#hazbin hotel #husk #alastor #radiohusk #fanfiction #one shot

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