Tumgik
#also if you wanna take these ideas and run with them go ahead
taurtise · 8 months
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Fic Notes
Just typing them out since there's a lot and it's easier just to type it, and better for anyone who has a hard time just reading/needs a screen reader
Super long so, enjoy <3 If you wanna do stuff with any of this you can, just leave credit or a note to me if you take heavy/direct inspo and stuff from it
Early game/kinda set-up stuff: Scar talks to Grian being like "hey man. You seem stressed and territorial, you good? Oh. Oh you have a refugee, okay cool. Can I give him cookies?"
Taurtis and Pearl are besties bc I say so. Pearl's favorite past time with him is picking his brain for stuff that he's seen but she hasn't before, and they bond over liking weird alien stuff. She shows him her collection and 1.18 update investigation room.
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Scar "you can't keep him in your house forever, G."
Gri "And why not!"
Scar "He's a person! How would you feel if you were holed up in someone's house and not allowed to leave?"
Gri "Shut up." (Cause, yknow, Sam locked him in the basement for three days that one time)
(Taurtis wouldn't actually be unallowed to leave, Grian would just be wary and anxious and paranoid about it)
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Late night bed talks. One being where Taurtis asks "Grian, am I funny?" and G goes "Yeah, you're really funny. What, did you make a lame dad joke today?" And Taurtis pauses a bit before rolling onto his side, facing away and responding "Oh yeah, it was a super lame joke." And Grian kinda catches on that, hey this is weird behavior for Taurtis, and decides to confront him about it, hence these lines:
T "What, am I just comedic relief to you? Is that still all I am?"
G "You've always been more than just a joke, don't say that."
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Mid-game: Scar's "Hey man you're a bit off" turns to "dude you're extremely bad right now. You need to relax. It's okay. Chill pill, my dude." And Grian is a stubborn bitch that keeps pushing his help away, so Scar tries to get Taurtis to help him with Grian.
Winter hits and Grian spends most of his days sleeping due to instincts, or something, idk it's an excuse to make him sleep and have Taurtis be crazy amounts of domestic with him. Taurtis "accidentally" makes too much breakfast to finish on his own so he wakes up Grian to share it with him. (He called Scar to see if he'd want it, not wanting to wake Grian, but Scar told him it'd be good for the pesky bird to have a meal before sleeping more)
Grian starts seeing shit due to his stress and the fact that the watchers have been following Taurtis this whole time without him realizing up to a certain point. Inspired by me seeing the foggy moon and going "huh that looks like a watcher eye." Thank you, Grian introject moment, pogchamp.
Xisuma starts asking people during casual chats if they've noticed anything different about the server. When he asks Grian, G lies and says he hasn't when he knows the watchers have found a way to get to Hermitcraft too, not wanting to expose himself and risk being looked into deeper from before joining HC. They know him and Pearl were in a server before, but not that it was a server full of watchers and eventual destruction. This causes Grian to get more stressed, develop worse insomnia, and try and figure out a way to send Taurtis home faster. He tries to ignore the inner misery and prioritize the safety of everyone else, but internally struggles with reassuring himself that Taurtis will even be safe after leaving.
Grian starts using his watcher powers when alone to influence the others to do things, just to show the other watchers that he's doing his job and they don't have to stay. They aren't convinced until him and two other watchers have a direct confrontation, in watcher forms rather than their human-esque forms, maybe spend a whole chapter showing their conversation before Xisuma locates where they are due to the heightened levels of their presence, confronting Grian now about what he was thinking and why all of this is happening.
Grian finds out that the other watchers lurking over the server managed to gain enough control to start forming an evo portal, finding it half finished and deciding to use his own control to make "clues". The clues are fake and only there to steer Taurtis away from the portal, but the other watchers change what Grian's clues say to lead him towards it no matter what. Taurtis sees the portal behind an evo symbol and gets mad at Grian, thinking he's tying to send him back to evo to be alone like he was before. (I didn't watch evo, just wanted to find a way to make it appear like Grian abandoned him from Taurtis's perspective.) Grian tries explaining himself, but Taurtis is done listening.
Taurtis starts showing more obvious signs that his sense of confusion from the down under has caused occasional confusion to places he's in, even if he's been there long term. Just a lil, lil somethin, y'know?
Grian's psychotic (literally) and Taurtis is autistic. Not mid game but just had to put that out there.
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Long game/end game: (omg just like avenger's end game- shut up. No. Stop.)
There's a sort of banquet to celebrate the ending of season nine as they progress into season ten.
Taurtis has to face the truth that he's never wanted to leave in the first place. He had to accept that fact mid game, but here he has to say it outright to Grian who's absorbed himself into figuring out every nook and cranny and function of that portal, so much that the skulk and purple has grown more on him.
The purple area spreads more on his right arm since that's the one he stick into the rift after activating the portal again. Something that's noticed overtime as he continues experimenting on and interacting with the rift and the area it was at in general.
-----Additional Notes/How Watcher presence affects players-----
A large amount of Watcher presence will cause listeners and the watched to feel paranoid, sick or uneasy. The more watching them, the worse the effects are. This is how Grian connects the rift's sudden behavior change to the watchers, Mumbo pointing out how he's felt the past few days one night while researching and experimenting on the portal with him.
And then this all was going to lead up to an additional fic to the series where they'd have to do a life series to satisfy the Watchers's need for violence, but the watchers found a way to strike a deal with Sam to make things more interesting, and Grian and Sam end up being soulbound for it with Grian barely winning by killing Sam in the end after everyone else has died out.
Similar to Double Life, but would have more stakes and need for staying close to soulmates as well as different effects and changes to players with the loss of lives and distance between soulmates.
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verstappen-cult · 2 months
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# WAVE OF YOU | CL16
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Charles is spending summer in Australia with his friends when he meets a very pretty girl and her dog at the beach.
Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader Content Warnings: A little meet-cute, just pure fluff! And Pierre being a menace for like a second.
Gwen’s radio message. . . 💬 : i saw the video and an idea popped into my mind, you can’t blame me for being weak. this is just a little silly meet-cute because your girl can’t stop thinking about surfer!charles. save me surfer!charles, save me !! i’m thinking about turning this into a series, would you like that?
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You never thought you’d be living in Australia in your twenties. You honestly never thought about leaving your hometown to follow your dreams. Yet, here you are, sitting on the sand on a quiet morning, playing with the golden retriever you adopted two weeks ago. She comes running back to you, leaving the tennis ball at your feet and sitting, patiently waiting for you to throw the ball again. 
“You never get tired, uh?” She tilts her head, tongue out and breathing heavily. You throw the ball into the water and she immediately runs back for it. 
You take the opportunity to look around. It’s still a little early so there aren’t many people, a few people walking their dogs or running, a few surfers and a group of girls a few meters away. You notice that they can’t stop looking at the group of boys in the water trying to catch waves. It’s funny, because you used to be exactly like them when you were a teen. 
They’re talking and — despite knowing you shouldn’t — you pay close attention to what they’re saying. 
“Last week he smiled at me, I swear!” One of them says, twirling her hair while still straight ahead. 
“They’re so hot.” You try not to laugh, hiding a smile by turning your head around. 
It’s not the first time you’ve seen the group of boys, but it is the first time that you pay attention to what people actually say about them, and that makes you a little bit curious. 
There are five guys in the water, two of them are sitting on their surfboard talking while the other two chase waves. You notice that the fifth guy is actually getting out of the water, blue surfboard under his right arm as he looks at the dog looking up at him and wagging its tail. Your dog. 
“Daisy!” You call her but she doesn’t move, she just looks at you from her spot next to the man. You get up and start walking towards her when the stranger looks up at you. And you stop breathing for a second, face turning pink as you feel bright, green eyes boring into you. 
You agree with the teenage girls about them being hot because this man is definitely very attractive. He’s wearing a black wetsuit, you notice as he runs his hand through his messy, wet, brown hair. He’s also smiling. At you. 
He crouches to unhook the surfboard’s leash from his ankle, leaving it aside, and pets Daisy behind her ears. She closes her eyes and moves closer to the stranger. Your heart skips a beat when he looks up at you again, still smiling. 
“Hey, Daisy? You wanna play?” He has an accent that makes you weak in the knees. The stranger takes Daisy’s ball from between her paws and throws it a few meters away, and she immediately runs back for it. “She’s cute.” You’re very cute, he thinks.
You smile because you don’t know what else to do, still very much feeling frozen in place. 
“I’m Charles, nice to meet you.” The stranger—Charles reaches out a hand, you look at it for a beat before taking it gently to shake. If you feel sparks flying, nobody needs to know that. 
You swallow, trying to find your voice before the cute guy thinks you’re weird. “I’m Y/N and,” You feel Daisy’s nose nudging at your leg. “this is Daisy.” You say, looking down at her.
Charles crouches back down to take the ball again, this time not breaking eye contact, and throws it into the water. You feel yourself blushing — again !! — under his intense gaze. You also feel your insides burning and going crazy with butterflies. You curse under your breath because what is wrong with you? 
“You come here often?” He cringes after saying that and you’re pretty sure you see a faint blush adorning his cheeks. “I’ve never seen you before.” 
“Oh, I adopted her two weeks ago, so we're pretty new to the beach.” You explain, looking over his shoulder at your little golden playing in the water. You’re gonna have one hell of a time trying to get rid of the salt water and sand of her hair. 
He smiles again and what the hell? He has dimples? 
“You’re not from here, right? I can hear a little accent…” He blurts out, massaging his neck in a nervous manner. 
“I just moved here a few months ago.” You laugh, fidgeting with your fingers. “I can say the same thing about you.”
The guy chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m from Monaco. I’m visiting a friend for the summer.”
“Oh, that’s cool!” When Daisy comes running back, you’re quick to pick up the ball — to have something to do besides looking at his pretty green eyes — and throw it farther just because it’s good that she’s running and having fun, definitely not because you want to keep talking with Charles. 
“What brought you to Australia?” Charles asks, like he's genuinely interested. 
“It’s silly, really.” You break eye contact after what feels like an eternity looking into his eyes. “I just wanted to see more of the world. I’ve been traveling for the past two years but I feel like it’s time to settle down somewhere.” Charles nods along, listening to every word. “I don’t know if Australia is the place for me but,” You shrug. You’ve grown and gained experiences, you’ve traveled to places you never thought you’d visit; you are happy with your life. You want to experience a different kind of thing now. “so far I like it here.”
“That’s awesome!” Charles has traveled the world too, but he doesn’t see himself leaving Monaco and his family. But he understands the desire to see new places and discover new cultures.
“Charlie!” 
You both turn your head around to see the boys he was surfing with coming out of the water. 
“Those are my friends. I’m sorry for whatever they’re going to say.”
You laugh, whispering a ‘don’t worry’ just before you’re joined by the four guys. 
“Oi, who’s this?” A dark-haired guy asks, crouching to pet Daisy. 
“That’s Daisy,” Charles answers before moving to stand beside you. “and this is Y/N.”
The four boys look between you and Charles in silence, then they’re all waving at you.
Charles leans a little closer, and you hold your breath. “That’s Dani,” He points to the same guy who asked about Daisy. Then he points to a curly-haired boy wearing a pair of pink shorts. “that one is Lando and the one next to him is Max.” 
“So, how do you find my boy Charles here?” A guy with French accent teases you. 
“And that’s Pierre. Don’t listen to him.” Charles sends death glares at his friend, who just holds his palms up in surrender and grins. 
“We need to go,” Lando or Max? says, looking at his friend with pity and mouthing a ‘sorry’.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N!” All of them say, making you laugh. You wave at them.
Then, you and Charles are alone again, Daisy lying on the sand in front of you.
“So,” Charles starts, fighting really hard not to look at your lips. He does a very poor job because you notice anyway, and of course you can’t help but wet your lips. Well, you have to do something, you’re probably not gonna see him again. “I have to go. But it was nice chatting with you.”
You reach out, placing your hand on his bicep and squeezing. And God, okay, he’s actually fit, fit. 
“It was nice meeting you, Charlie.”
Charles smirks, winking. Or at least trying to before grabbing his surfboard and walking away, it takes you a great effort to not turn around. 
“Hey, Y/N?” 
You’re just a girl. 
Charles is walking backwards, a bright smile dancing on his lips. 
“Will I be seeing you tomorrow?”
You try not to show how much effect his words have on you. “I don’t know,” You shrug. Playing hard to get now, really? “Come and you’ll see.”
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nahoney22 · 2 months
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Now or Never***
Hunter X F!Reader
word count: 2.5k
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When Hunter spontaneously kisses you before he goes camping with the others whilst you look after the ship, your mind is set aflame. Both of you think about it and it's either now or never to see if there is a spark there.
warnings: warnings: Not exactly NSFW but is very steamy so 17+ only please. Spontaneous and accidental kiss, making out, brief breast touching, touchy touchy, non established relationship, female reader, mutual pining, friends to lovers, first kiss, one curse word.
authors note: a request for my lovely friend 🤍
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"Have you made sure you've packed your canteen, sleeping bag, and comm device?" You stood observing Omega meticulously arranging her belongings in preparation for a camping excursion with her brothers, ensuring she's equipped for the night ahead.
The idea was originally proposed by Wrecker, who eagerly suggested taking Omega on a camping adventure in the wilderness, a proposition unanimously agreed upon by the others—except for you. Camping wasn't exactly your preferred activity.
"Yes, yes, and yes again," Omega confirms, playfully rolling her eyes before turning to you with a smile. "You're worse than Hunter AND Crosshair combined."
You chuckle and kneel down to Omega's level. "I'm not that bad," you tease, tousling her hair affectionately before rising to your feet. "But do be cautious, alright? Don't go picking berries unless you're certain about them."
"I'm not about to repeat Wrecker's mistake," Omega giggles, both of you sharing a fond memory of the time his hunger led him to accidentally consume toxic berries, resulting in a nasty rash.
"Are you absolutely certain you can't be persuaded to join us?" Hunter speaks and as you turn to him, you watch as he adjusts his backpack in readiness for the night ahead.
"I'll be fine. Besides, someone needs to stay behind to look after Gonky and the ship," you reply, giving the droid a reassuring pat as it waddles past. "I'll also tidy up around here. I wanna make sure it's neat and tidy for when you return."
A warm smile spreads across Hunter's face as he looks at you, a gesture that has become increasingly frequent lately. "Well, if you insist. Feel free to contact me if you require assistance."
'Me'? Not 'us'?’ you silently ponder, feeling a slight warmth tint your cheeks. "And the same goes for you. Stay safe out there and don't wander off."
"Can we get going before we lose light?" Crosshair interjects with a snarl, positioning himself between you and Hunter with an almost knowing look, as if he's aware of your burgeoning feelings for a particular Sergeant.
Hunter clears his throat, shooting a warning glare at his brother, who momentarily smirks before disembarking the ship, followed by the others. However, Hunter lingers back for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"
"Why the sudden protectiveness?" You raise a brow, accompanied by a smirk, though you can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in your chest.
"Just making sure," he reassures, offering another soft smile. "The others seem excited. It's been a while since we've done something like this."
Your heart swells at the sight of him finding peace, even if just for a moment. No empire, no war—just rest. "Well, stop lingering and get going before you lose the others," you prompt, playfully nudging his side with your arm, your touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.
"Alright, alright. I'll see you tomorrow," he responds, but as he turns to leave, a brief moment of unexpected stillness descends. Without warning, Hunter reaches out and holds your waist, pulling you gently toward him, and kisses you.
You don’t even have time to react because he pulls back abruptly, eyes wide with shock, and you find yourself mirroring his astonishment.
He quickly releases you, running a clammy hand over the back of his neck. "I... I don't know why I did that."
"O-okay," you breathe shakily, trying to steady your racing heart as you nervously fiddle with your fingers, your mind reeling from the unexpected intimacy.
"Sorry, I..." he trails off, meeting your gaze once more, his expression a mix of anxiousness and apology.
You gaze back at him, feeling the rapid rhythm of your heart almost deafening in the silence between you. "No, it's okay," you manage to exhale shakily, taking a small step back, needing the space to collect your thoughts. "Y-you should really get going."
He nods in understanding, but you can't shake the feeling of uncertainty clouding his expression. Better yet, you’re certain he takes a longing gaze at your lips before snapping out of his trance. "Yeah. Alright. Are… Stars, are we okay?” He asks, a little exasperated. “I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."
"Go, Hunter," you say just above a whisper, a mixture of confusion and longing tugging at your emotions. "I'll still be here when you get back." Your smile feels forced, genuine bewilderment at how to navigate the spiral of emotions inside you. It all feels like a dream, yet you're not entirely sure if you want to wake up. Or perhaps you do?
Hunter gives you one last lingering look before he turns and leaves, leaving you alone with your tangled thoughts.
Watching him go, you can't help but dread the inevitable awkwardness that awaits you in the morning.
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Hours had slipped by since the departure of the others, and you had kept yourself occupied as best as possible, channeling your energy into cleaning the Marauder. Discarded bolts, half-eaten ration bars, and an array of dust and weapon gear cluttered the interior, making it a challenge to find even a patch of floor. Wiping your brow, you stand back to admire your handiwork, but now what?
"What do you think, Gonky? Nice and clean?"
GONK.
"Yeah, I know," you sigh, sinking into the pilot's seat and propping your legs up on the control dash as you gaze out at the night sky. But try as you might to divert your thoughts, they stubbornly refuse to stray far from the unexpected encounter with Hunter.
There's a lingering tingle on your lips, prompting you to idly lick them as you recall the sensation of his kiss. Your stomach flutters, and you run a hand through your hair in frustration. "It's just a crush... just a crush."
At least, that's what it had started as. Sure, you had found Hunter attractive from the moment you joined the team, but it had been nothing more than a passing admiration. Yet, as the months passed and you grew closer to him, undeniable feelings—on your part, at least—had begun to emerge.
So, the question lingered: why had he kissed you? Was it merely a spontaneous impulse, or was there something more to it? Of course, you couldn't help but hope for the latter, but his immediate apology had left you questioning his intentions.
Suddenly, a rhythmic beeping emanates from one sector of the control panel, jolting you into alertness. You sit forward, inspecting the display, and your blood turns cold as you spot a heat signature approaching. Rising to your feet, you arm yourself and position yourself at the gangplank, ready for whatever may come.
But your fears begin to dissipate as you discern the familiar colours of clone armor in the distance. "Hunter? What are you doing back? Are the others alright?" you call out, relief flooding your voice as you watch him approach.
"Everything's alright, don't worry," Hunter reassures you, his chuckle softening the panic in your voice, though it leaves you feeling more puzzled than reassured.
"What are you doing back then?" you ask, your stomach fluttering once more as he takes a step closer.
"I came to see you," he says softly, his gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that sends a shiver down your spine. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. It was driving me mad."
You swallow hard, feeling the nervous flutter in your stomach as your hands instinctively tuck behind your back. "Oh, Hunter, I told you I'd be fine," you manage to say, though your voice betrays a hint of uncertainty.
"I'm not referring to that," he replies quickly, closing the distance between you with each deliberate step. Your heart races, anticipation and apprehension mingling in equal measure as you realise the true reason for his return. "Your heart's beating so fast for me," he murmurs, his voice a quiet rasp that sends a shiver down your spine.
With each step bringing him closer, the tension between you becomes palpable, and you can feel the electricity crackling in the air.
"Hunter..." you begin, taking a step back to welcome him onto the ship, but your voice trails off as he enters and seals the door to the Marauder shut behind him with a button on his wrist.
"Did you mean to kiss me?" you finally manage to ask, your heart pounding in anticipation.
"No," he admits, his gaze unwavering, but a flicker of excitement dances in your chest as he continues, "but I can't deny that I haven't thought about doing it. Many times."
You're too stunned to respond, the weight of his words leaving you speechless, and you can only watch in disbelief as he closes the distance between you. His hand reaches up, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Tell me... if I hadn't pulled away, would you have kissed me back?" he whispers, his voice barely audible but filled with a raw vulnerability that leaves you breathless.
You stare into his eyes, all your uncertainties melting away in the intensity of the moment. Unable to resist any longer, you lean in and press a gentle, swift kiss to his lips, pulling back with a coy smile. "Does that answer your question?"
Hunter's chest rises and falls with a mixture of surprise and longing at your kiss, his hands finding a comfortable place on your hips. "Maybe," he teases in response, a playful glint in his eyes. "I think I need to just..." he leans in closer, his lips barely brushing against yours before trailing agonisingly slowly across your cheek and up to your ear.
"Hunter," you gasp silently, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips brush over your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Yes?" he asks innocently, his warm breath causing goosebumps to rise on your skin as it fans over you, sending a rush of heat coursing through your veins.
"It's now or never," you whisper breathlessly, your voice barely above a murmur. "Kiss me... kiss me properly."
With a surge of desire, his lips leave your ear and find yours, his hand cupping your jaw as you both surrender to the heated passion between you. Your back presses against the wall of the ship as you eagerly reciprocate, your fingers tangling in his hair with a firm grip as you lose yourself in the intoxicating sensation of each other's touch.
Gone are the smiles and lingering glances, replaced by the urgency of the moment that ignites a fiery passion between you. Both of you are breathless, yet neither of you wants to break away. The kiss is messy, with teeth occasionally clanging together, but it only adds to the raw intensity of the moment.
In a bold move, he lifts your leg and hooks it around his waist, drawing you closer until his body is pressed against yours. Your hands roam over his armor, desperate to remove every barrier between you.
He obliges, a small smirk playing on his lips as he swiftly removes his armor, his lips only briefly parting from yours before he's swallowing your moans once more. "I can't stop kissing you," he grunts, his breathing heavy and intoxicating, sending shivers down your spine.
"Good thing I haven't told you to stop," you growl against his lips, earning a deep groan in response before he deftly maneuvers you onto the floor, crawling over you and enveloping you in his arms.
His tongue dances along your lower lip, seeking entrance that you're willing to grant, but you can't resist the urge to tease him, to show him what he's been missing for so long. Ignoring his plea, you gently bite down on his lip, eliciting a gasp of surprise from him, and seizing the opportunity, you take the lead.
He meets your passion with equal fervor, his tongue tangling with yours in a heated dance. Both of you are panting, and you're grateful that you had cleaned the floor beforehand. "Fuck, you're perfect," he murmurs between kisses, his words sending a rush of warmth to your core.
Lips locked, one of his hands slips under your shirt, sending a tingling sensation racing along your skin as his fingers trail along your stomach and up the side of your ribs. Your breath catches in your throat as he continues his exploration, his touch gentle yet electric, until he ever so softly caresses your breast.
A soft gasp escapes your lips at the intimate contact, your body arching instinctively toward his touch as desire courses through you. With each delicate caress, the heat between you intensifies, and you find yourself completely lost in the sensation of his touch.
"More... please," you gasp into his mouth, your body ablaze with desire. He listens to your plea, his hand reluctantly leaving your breast before sliding back down your body. His fingers dance along your skin, teasing along the hem of your waistband, igniting a primal need within you.
Naturally, arousal courses through you, transforming this fleeting moment of passion into something deeper. "I've dreamt about touching you down here," he whispers against your lips, swollen and flushed with desire.
He's on the verge of breaking the barrier, your body eagerly anticipating his touch, when the shrill noise of his comm device, scattered on the floor next to your head, shatters the moment.
He looks at you, then at his comm, and back to you with an apologetic smile. "It's best I get that. Just in case."
You nod in understanding, suddenly feeling shy and bashful. But he doesn't move from above you, instead swiping up his comm and answering the call. "What's the problem?"
"We're heading back. Crosshair ate some of those berries that gave Wrecker a rash last time," Echo's voice echoes loudly in the cabin, interrupting the intimate moment.
"Fantastic. We'll see you soon," Hunter replies, cutting off the call with a sigh of frustration.
Despite the interruption, you can't help but stifle a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Hey," you say softly, reaching up to cup his cheek, "we could do this another time... if you'd like that?"
He chuckles, meeting your gaze with a mixture of longing and gratitude. "I want nothing more than that," he admits, sealing the moment with the gentlest kiss on your lips. "I, uh, I liked this. A lot."
As he helps you sit up, Hunter's movements are gentle yet purposeful, his attention focused on reassembling his gear. Meanwhile, you take a moment to smooth out your hair and adjust your clothing before standing up.
"Hunter?"
Turning to face you, Hunter's gaze is warm yet curious. "Yeah?" he responds, his brow furrowing slightly in anticipation of your next words.
"Thank you," you say softly, sincerity lacing every syllable.
His confusion deepens, prompting him to take a step closer to you, his hand finding its way to your waist as he draws you near. "What for?" he inquires, his eyes searching yours for answers.
Your heart swells at his proximity, and you meet his gaze with a mixture of affection and appreciation.
"For feeling the same way I do."
There were many, many sneaky kisses from then on.
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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months
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Roller Rinking, Dancing and Dreaming
Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
A/N: I went roller skating with some friends and one of them pitched the idea of a date at the roller rink with Vox and Reader, though it's not really a date anymore for those two since the Hazbin Hotel crew tagged along because Charlie didnt realize that this was supposed to be a special occasion. Oh and Alastor is just going to be kind of a sore thumb because it's funny. Also found this pic of Vox(it's not my art and I don't know who drew it HELP-) but it's his getup for his and Reader's date because I will not have this flatscreen idiot take us out in his fucking work clothes. Velvette give this man a proper wardrobe PLEASE-
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A/N: I'm probably going to write a lot of date ideas between Vox and (Y/N) to prolong the slow-burn and also so I can include the other characters anyway- so if you guys have any other ideas- go ahead and drop them down below and I'll try to fit the ones I think would work best! As always, happy reading and I hope you guys enjoy!
A/N: Final note- but this was the song I was listening to while writing this long LONG chapter so if you guys wanna vibe to it while reading go ahead lolol- Song's called: "Shut Up And Dance" by Walk The Moon.
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If there was one word Vox would use to describe you, it had to be crazy.
Or cute, but that was besides the point-
He'd always thought your ideas couldn't get any wilder, only to be proven wrong in at the very least a few hours.
Especially when he was reminded of the time you made a papercraft of his clothes while he was stuck to your TV screen.
And the time you sent him earrape audio during a meeting for no reason?
And calling coffee "Bean Juice"?
He could go on and on about the random insane things you would do periodically.
But because he grew so used to it-
More like he always ended up looking forward to your entertaining shenanigans-
The first thing Vox had done was give you a new VoxTech phone with your custom app on it.
At this point, he defaulted to using it if he were to check on you anyway and you had no complaints.
Alastor gave you both shit for bringing tech into the hotel only to get flipped off by the two of you anyway.
Lucifer had to stop himself from laughing because the deer was practically throwing a tantrum at being so nonchalantly brushed off-
Vox chuckled as he reminisced about it.
That was all few days ago, and it seems like you've settled into hell quite nicely.
You made friends with nearly everyone at the hotel, save a certain radio cannibal who you also liked to annoy-
And you'd even met Velvette on one occasion.
Well, more like Vox wanted to fashion you a wardrobe but didn't trust himself to pick good outfit combinations so he just entrusted the task to his fashionista colleague-
What he didn't expect was for the both of you to hit it off fairly quickly after that and ended up staying in touch online.
Vox even wondered at times if you were talking to Velvette more than him already but didn't think about it too much-
You haven't been to the Vee tower since that outfit shopping spree and well, you kind of understood why.
Especially after what you heard about Valentino from both Vox and Angel Dust.
That pimp guy was just someone you did not want to be around.
So that just left your TV headed buddy with no choice but to visit the hotel more and more.
Not that either of you cared much about how irked Alastor got because both of you and sometimes even Lucifer would often gang up on him-
Vox never really stayed, after all redemption didn't seem to be his thing with a whole media empire to run-
But sometimes you would force him to humor Charlie and try some of the activities, teasing him about it and saying he was cringe whenever he got awkward.
Vox just chuckled as he looked back on a lot of the moments you both had together, twirling a pen in his hand while he fondly remembered.
Of course until he eventually forced himself to stop daydreaming and focus back on the stack of paperwork in front of him.
He hadn't even really begun and honestly he didn't know if he wanted to.
It was busy days like these where he couldn't wait to visit and see you, work was stressful enough so just hanging around you and turning his brain off to your nonsense was enough of a distraction.
Ah whatever, that was enough of procrastinating.
It was a little while of him working on and checking the stack of documents on his table before his phone rang.
Vox didn't even bother to check the caller ID and just answered it because he was in work-mode.
So he almost ended up snapping his pen in two from sheer surprise when he heard your voice through the call.
"Heeeeey Vox? You free this weekend?"
The overlord just glanced over at his schedule and figured he could clear up a day or two.
It was only a day until the weekend after all.
He'd have to work double-time until then just to make up for the load but he didn't see a problem with it when the trade-off was spending more time with you.
"I could free up my schedule, why? Did you have something planned dollface?"
"Kinda, I heard there's a new roller rink disco club around the block and I wanted to go!"
"And you're telling me this, why?"
"Because I want you to go with me, duhhhh!"
Vox looked over some of the papers he had on his table absentmindedly and hummed.
Admittedly, you asking him about it first was kind of flattering- even if you knew he was a very busy guy.
He would often drop whatever he was doing just to help you if you needed it after all, so him rearranging his schedule on the fly like this wasn't anything new.
"So kind of like a date?"
He grinned when he heard you stutter and fumble over your words.
The overlord could only imagine just how red and flustered you were at the moment.
You'd always found ways to embarrass him back then when you were alive, so now he was just kindly returning the favor.
"N-no! Well- kind of? I don't know! Just wear something nice!"
"Sure doll, I guess I'll see you then?"
"Mhm, see you!"
Vox stared fondly at his phone when you ended the call, a smile working onto his face as he chuckled.
Who knew it was because of this specific little gadget that brought you guys together in the first place.
Putting the phone down, he cracked his knuckles and gave his table a once over.
It was covered in papers of all kinds but if he started now he could probably get it finished before tomorrow.
You threw your phone onto a nearby cushion and covered your face with your hands.
That stupid TV was too charming for his own good-
You grumbled slightly and crossed your arms, sometimes you doubted if Vox really even meant all the words he says-
Did it come so naturally to him to just be that charismatic?
But at the same time the guy could be a real annoying piece of work-
You really felt like just another sucker who couldn't decide whether you wanted to hug the overlord or strangle him.
"Heya toots! What's got you so worked up?"
"Hey Angel, just- dealing with Vox I guess?"
"Seriously? That's what you're all hung up about?"
"Hey! I'm not- hung up about it-! He's just so annoying."
"For once we can agree on something it seems!"
You screamed when Alastor suddenly appeared at your side, falling off the area of the couch where you were sitting.
If there was one thing you hated that the two media broadcast overlords had in common was that they loved loved LOVED to just sneak up on you.
It was getting really old and really tiring.
Frankly you had already been sick of Vox being a cheeky little shit doing it- you didn't need his rival to join in-
"Nobody asked for your opinion Al, and don't you have some murder to orchestrate or something?"
"HaHA! Not at the moment! Why, if you wanted to join me on my excursions you could've said so my dear!"
"Eugh- hard pass old geezer. Besides, I'll be busy this weekend."
"Really? With what?"
"Gonna go to that new roller rink disco club down the block. I used to go roller skating when I was a kid but eventually stopped as I grew older."
You figured it would be wise to leave out the fact you were going with Vox, you didn't need to arm Alastor any more ammunition to mess with you or his rival.
Thing is, you didn't necessarily notice just what chaos sharing your weekend plans would entail.
"Well if you're already going there, why not take the others with you?"
Oh fuck.
You forgot about Charlie.
Now you really wished you had kept your mouth shut, the last thing you wanted to do was hurt her feelings when she'd been nothing but nice to you.
"Okay hold on-"
Alastor couldn't help widening his grin when he saw your worried expression, well this was certainly going to get interesting.
"What a wonderful idea my dear! Perhaps I should go observe what this brand new establishment has to offer as well!"
"You antique motherfucker-"
Your fluffy deer ears pinned back as you glared at the radio demon, he really had to be toying with you when he said that.
Especially if what Husk had said in the past was anything to go by.
Alastor didn't like going to clubs or places that were similarly just as noisy and obnoxious.
So he was really just trying to shove you deeper into the grave you'd dug yourself.
"That's great Al! Maybe you could even find some more ideas for the hotel while you're there!"
You just covered your face in your hands, so much for just spending time with just Vox this weekend-!
How the hell were you even supposed to tell him about this??
"Yeaaaahhh... greaaaat..."
You weakly mumbled, tiredly looking up at Angel who just gave you an apologetic shrug.
You just gave up trying to mention otherwise when everyone else seemed more than eager for this weekend.
So much for your original plan.
By the time the weekend rolled around, you got yourself all dressed pretty with a casual top and jeans.
You decided against wearing anything that would leave your legs exposed since you didn't know if you'd fall down a bunch while rollerskating.
It was a while since you could remember the last time you tried.
Grabbing your phone and some necessities, you left your room and went to wait in the hotel lobby for the others to get ready.
"Vox where are you going?"
The overlord nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a familiar voice from behind him.
He swiveled around to see the youngest Vee just deadpanning at him.
Geez, and he thought he was being sneaky too.
"Ah! Velvette! Just- heading out. No reason."
"It's your date with (Y/N) isn't it?"
"It's not- oh whatever, what do you want?"
His colleague gave him an annoyed once over and the tech overlord just raised an eyebrow at her.
What was she planning this time?
"You aren't leaving wearing that."
"My suit? What's wrong with it?"
"For the occasion? Everything. Now come on- let's see if I can put something together for you."
While Vox didn't question what his colleague meant, he just followed Velvette to her studio when she gestured for him to.
He initially wanted to wear something other than his work clothes but after looking at the options in his closet he immediately went against the idea.
The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass you by arriving underdressed.
"Nope. Too formal. Too risqué. Too boring. Too colorful- Aha! There! How's that?"
Looking at himself in a nearby mirror, Vox straightened the blazer he wore with a smile.
A light blue turtleneck with some loose slacks and a dark blazer on top, plus a pair of sneakers in his colors to throw together the whole ensemble.
He didn't have his hat this time, but he figured it was probably for the better that he didn't.
Comfortable but still dapper, he liked it.
"Your outfits are impeccable as always Velvette."
"Yeah yeah, you owe me one for this Vox. Now get going or you'll be late!"
The overlord didn't bother to ask his colleague about how she knew about his plans- you could've told her about it online for all he knew.
Instead, Vox just waved back at his colleague as he walked out the entrance of the building feeling excited to see you again.
So you could imagine his irritation when he met you at the club and saw everyone from the hotel there as well.
So much for it being a date-
"What the fuck are they doing here?"
He angrily whispered to you while the others were busy exploring the new building.
Pop music blared over the speakers as the lights flashed around.
A bunch of sinners were skating around the large rink that probably took up more than half of the whole club, some were just dancing around the sides outside of the rink.
It was exactly like an old disco club with the bar and even the older style furniture and aesthetic.
"Charlie suggested everyone come along and Alastor insisted, it wasn't like I had a choice."
You grit out in reply, crossing your arms and feeling slightly just as grumpy about the situation as your flatscreen companion.
"Whatever, we can still enjoy ourselves can't we?"
Admittedly, Vox looked pretty good in this new outfit.
You hadn't seen him in anything but his trademark blue coat and red vest he wore for work so this was something new.
And it was a good new, you'd thank Velvette later.
The overlord just smiled at you and nodded, leaving the others in the group to just explore as you both went and bought some skates for the rink.
More like Vox just didn't want to use the rental ones so he bought you each a pair to keep-
"(Favorite color)? You shouldn't have."
"Figured if I was getting something, might as well get the one you'd prefer."
Your giggle was nearly drowned out by the loud music but Vox still heard it, a soft smile forming on his face as he watched you eagerly put on your new skates.
"Honestly didn't think you'd remember about it, I think I only mentioned it once."
"Kind of hard to forget things when you've got a computer for a brain dollface."
You just lightly bumped his shoulder in jest before standing up and twirling on your new wheels.
Thankfully you could still remember how to work them, even if it was a long time ago since you'd done this kind of thing.
"Do they fit okay?"
"Pretty well actually, how'd you know my size?"
"Just guessed, I might be lucky today."
You just playfully rolled your eyes at his response, of course he'd pat himself on the back for that.
It didn't take long for Vox to eventually wear his own set of skates, he just had no idea how to stand.
"Come on! It's not that hard, I'll teach you!"
The overlord stared at your outstretched hands for a moment before taking them and standing up.
Again with the fuzzy feeling in his chest- what the hell-
The both of you wobbled for a second while your companion got used to the new center of gravity.
"Would you believe it if I said I have never ever done this before?"
"I think it kinda shows ya goof."
You continued to hold his hand as you showed Vox how to move forward, unfortunately for you- his sense of balance wasn't quite that great and you both ended up crashing to the floor.
The overlord landing on his ass and you landing on top of him.
The both of you exchanged a look before bursting into laughter.
You were slightly thankful for the strobing lights of the club, otherwise you were pretty sure Vox would've easily seen the blush on your face.
He was kind of cute when he seemed to just be enjoying himself...
You just shoved that thought to the back of your mind and stood up again, holding a hand out for your companion to take.
"You're not gonna learn if you just sit down like that ya know? Come on! I wanna get inside the rink!"
Vox just looked at you amused, taking your hand and hefting himself to his feet again.
He could practically feel the energy just radiating off you, the bright excitement in your eyes even as you lead him to the entrance of the rink with much less struggle this time around.
You were just adorable, you'd let go of his hand to twirl around the center of the roller rink to the beat of the music.
Vox just found himself smiling again as he approached you.
If being beside you meant he could watch and see you like this?
He would gladly take that position in a heartbeat.
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wolfiesmoon · 4 months
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Countless nights
Malleus x gn!reader
i felt like writing something super cute and lovey dovey and basic after listening to can't help falling in love by elvis presley so here we are lol😌🩷
this is nothing revolutionary that hasn't been done before just so much fluff you'll throw up a furball (made of fictional fluff) by the end
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There are many a night which he spends thinking of you.
Lilia had told him about it, a long long time ago. How your chest would tighten, how your face would become warm, how your heart would flutter when gazing at the person you're in love with. But he never imagined that it could feel this amazing, this freeing, this beautiful.
There are many moments he thinks of on these nights...
You run up behind him, yelling the silly little nickname he's grown to love hearing fall from your lips.
He turns around, grinning at the sound of your voice. Truly, you are a sight for sore eyes. Your little furry companion is with you, too, dozing off in your arms.
"It's so nice to see you in the hallways for once." you realise that you mostly see him in front of your dorm when he randomly shows up. Because of that, you kinda forgot that he's also a student at the school and takes classes as well.
"Likewise. It's always a pleasure to see you." He didn't say anything presumptious, so why are you making that excited face all of a sudden? Now he feels giddy.
A silence falls between you.
"Ahaha... Um... I actually have no idea what to talk about... I kinda just ran to you after seeing you..." you admitted awkwardly.
That is... very comforting to hear. All you need is the sight of him to want to be by his side. The warm feeling spreading across his body is very welcome.
He wants to hear you say that sentence over and over, but greed is not a good quality to bear, so he'll settle with hearing it only once.
"Then I suppose you wouldn't mind listening to me talk? Do you happen to be partial to gargoyles?" He takes the opportunity to talk about the passion no one seems to share with him. He's fully expecting you to say no and change the topic, and he wouldn't blame you at all in some regard. He's well aware most humans don't take interest in something as specific as gargoyles.
"I never really thought much about them before. But sure, tell me about it." you actually look really interested, waiting for him to start.
He smiles.
Oh, he just can't help falling in love with you.
.
"Did you hear about that new ice cream place that opened in town recently?"
When you asked him if he could spare 2 hours of his day just for the two of you yesterday, he was certainly not expecting you to open with this.
"Lilia told me you like ice cream, and I was pretty curious about the taste myself." you wonder to yourself if there's any funny flavours you wouldn't find in the human world. If so, you're definitely trying them out.
"So, uhhh... wanna go try it with me?"
You don't even realise how happy you've just made him. He has to hold back the wide smile that threatens to spread across his face.
"Hahaha, you're so strange... Though I certainly wouldn't mind." You seriously just want to... hang out with him? What a pleasant surprise, indeed. It makes his heart beat with excitement.
"Let's go!" you start running down the hill to get to town, excited to share ice cream with him.
.
"Aw man, it's almost impossible to choose." you're contemplating between three different flavours at the moment.
"Shall I choose for you, then?" Malleus suggests. He already picked the flavour he wants and is waiting for you to make your choice. Not that he's annoyed by that. The longer you take, the more minutes he can spend by your side. How greedy of him.
"Go ahead." you sigh defeatedly. You're truly thankful he can put an end to the awkward situation of you just staring between 3 different flavours for like, 2 whole minutes now. You're creating a line behind you, no doubt.
"You should get the strawberry flavour." Malleus recalled a story of Lilia's in which he told him that strawberries are a symbol of love in a country he visited. He feels a bit cheeky, sneaking a subtle hint in like this.
"Uh, sure! I'll have one scoop of strawberry!" you raised an eyebrow slightly at his satisfied smile. Why is he smiling now, of all times?
If he's happy, you're happy, you suppose.
The two of you decided to walk around town while eating the ice cream. It was a nice change of scenery.
You were telling Malleus about a funny potionology mishap you had with Grim and Ace today when someone bumped into you, making you lose grip of the ice cream.
It fell splat on the ground, making it no longer edible.
"Oh come on..." you looked down at the wasted ice cream sadly. It was really good, too.
"I can return it to its original form, do not worry." Malleus suggested, already about to do it when you gently grabbed his wrist. His eyes widened slightly and a strange tightness enveloped his chest.
"No need. Just hanging out with you is enough. Enjoy the ice cream for the both of us." you're really fine with just watching him. He seems very happy when eating ice cream, which you can't get enough of.
"...If you wish." he felt his whole being warming up at your sweet words.
Oh, he just can't help falling in love with you.
.
"Child of man. What is the meaning of this?" his expression darkens when he sees your fingers wrapped in bandages.
"Of wha- Oh, you mean my bandages? It's, uhhh, a bit embarrasing. And also a suprise." you hid your hands behind your back, not wanting him to worry about them too much.
"Tell me." he looked quite scary in this moment, almost like he was ready to kill. Is he really that worried over it? It kinda makes you feel giddy.
"It'll ruin the surprise, I'm just saying." you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. His terrifying gaze didn't falter however, so you gave up.
"Roses are really important symbols in Briar valley, so I've heard. So I kinda wanted to give you a hand-picked rose boquet for your birthday tommorow, but I was dumb and didn't use gloves to de-thorn the roses. So that's why my hands look like this." you still felt a little bad ruining the surprise, but giving Malleus peace of mind is much more important.
"Oh... So it was that, I see." Malleus still witheld a somewhat cold, scary expression. He can't stand to see you hurt, in any way. And knowing it was all for him makes him feel even worse.
Still... you wanted to make him happy so much that you willingly hurt yourself to see it happen. Warmth rushes to his face at the thought of you handing the boquet to him. That's quite a common way of confessing love among humans, is it not?
He can't wait for his birthday all of a sudden.
On these nights, he just can't help falling in love with you.
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beetboxx · 2 years
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nice boys - b.h. x reader
SMUT SMUT SMUT! 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
warnings: overall filth. like, filthy. degradation, humiliation, use of belt as restraint, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it, friends!) face slapping, dacryphilia, overstimulation, denial, sir kink, let me know if there’s more!
“c’mon, can’t you be submissive one time?” you giggled, running your pointer finger down billy’s cheek. you were perched on his lap as he laid on his grungy bed, legs straight out behind you and torso leaned on the board. his hands were lazily planted on your hips, at that moment scooting you up his torso so you weren’t rubbing against his growing erection.
“over my dead body, sweetheart,” he spoke, grumbly in nature. “cut it out, it’s not funny.” he pinched the skin on your hip lightly, just to flag you to quit while you were ahead, still on his good side.
“m’not doing anything! i just wanna know!” you sat yourself up onto his hips, pressing your chest against his as you ran your palms down onto his biceps.
“know what?”
“why you won’t let me be in charge! i wanna try it.”
billy scoffed, cocked his head to the side with his eyebrows raised. curious.
“i’d treat you real good, billy,” you grinned, laying a hand on his cheek. “take care of you, make you feel good.”
your thumb walked back and forth on his jaw, slowly, testing your waters.
“don’t you wanna be a good boy? for me?”
you made sure to pout, look at him through your eyelashes. you knew he couldn’t tell you no explicitly- and he didn’t. he just sighed and muttered, “whatever.” which was technically billy-code for, “stop right now, i swear to god.”
“i’ll be nice!” you argued. “just need you to listen to me.”
“i will listen to you whenever i want, baby,” he corrected, rising his palms to cup your waist.
you narrowed your eyes and pursed your lips, shaking your head as you reached to grip at his chin. you had already decided your fate for the night. “noo, you’re gonna listen to me and do what i say. did i say you could touch me?”
you were getting into character. and billy was really starting to get frustrated. you knew he was when he opened his mouth to say something, probably tell you to stay in your lane, but you caught it.
“ah-ah, did i say you could touch me?” you repeated, raising your voice slightly.
billy huffed, just tightened his grip on your waist. his jaw was tightening, grinding his molars against each other. his eyes shifted.
“(y/n),” he muttered, spitting your name smoothly from his lips. “i will also touch you whenever i want. i’m not playing this game with you.”
you furrowed your eyebrows together. to billy, you looked like you were just pouting, even though you were trying to put on a mean face. he said he wasn’t going to play with you, but he didn’t stop you from peeling his hands off your waist and attempting to pin them down at his sides. he could easily break away, no doubt, but he was curious. maybe he’d let you have your fun for a little. it paid off immediately when you smiled, victory shining in your eyes when his wrists hit the mattress.
but then you jumped up off of his lap with a gasp and a bright idea, lifting up a finger to him. “ooh! wait here, i’ll be right back!” you exclaimed, grinning like a possum. you ran out of the room then, leaving billy laying there, confused and kind of nervous. you weren’t one to bring him surprises. he didn’t even agree to anything!
you came back seconds later, skipping into his bedroom with a long strip of leather laid in your hands- his favorite belt, and the one he used to bind your hands together for the first time when he spread you out in the backseat of his car. he groaned, shook his head. how humiliating.
“since you don’t know how to keep your hands to yourself,” you grinned proudly, perfectly reciting his words to you and spiking his memory, “i guess i gotta do it myself!”
you returned to your spot on his lap, this time purposefully anchoring yourself in just the right spot to make billy grunt and involuntarily buck his hips up. you started to bend and pull the belt into a sort of makeshift handcuffs, trying to remember the steps billy took to do the same. you were struggling. billy saw, sighed heavily and grabbed the belt from your struggling fingers. you immediately lurched forward, wiggling your fingers as he held it over his head to keep it from you.
“hey!” you protested, reaching to grab it back from his hands like he took a toy from your sandbox.
“i’m trying to help you, calm down,” he said coldly, waiting for you to put your hands down before he made quick work of the belt.
you frowned, until he returned the belt to you in the perfect shape to slide his wrists in in a matter of seconds. and he did, as soon as you got it in your hands he put his hands through the loops and allowed you to tighten them.
“other way,” he grumbled as you tugged on the wrong side of the strap.
“oh!”
it took a second, but after you completed that task, billy was in perfect position for you. wrists bound together, shirtless laid out on his bed in just his tiny boxers and in no position to protest or fight you. he looked.. unimpressed. his face was blank besides two very irritated eyes. his fists were clenched at his stomach, veins running up the back of his hand and up his forearms.
“you really think this is a good idea, baby? you know i’m not gonna be nice after.”
you rolled your eyes. billy did not like that. every thing you did was just adding to his irritation, building yourself a world of hurt the moment you let him go.
“well, that’s not for you to decide. it’s my turn,” you teased, placing a soft hand on his chest to slide it down. you started rocking your hips back and forth, and billy grunted, winced a little bit. you then stopped, lifting yourself up onto your knees to scoot down to his thighs. billy liked to wear extremely tight, extremely short boxers which left little to imagine in your head, you just had to get a good look at it. your hand had been steadily traveling town his torso until it reached the black fabric, not wasting any time to pull it down to release his thick cock. he was definitely hard, but just had a little more to go. being bound was a total turn off. but he would endure, just for you.
“come on, baby,” he groaned, bucking his hips up to chase your hands. “stroke my cock. i know you wanna.”
you giggled, “right know i really want you to shut up.”
his nostrils flared, his lips pressed to a little pink line with his eyebrows crinkled when you moved your eyes up.
“hey, watch it.”
you shook your head with a mischievous, bright smile.
“you’re bein’ a big baby,” you poked, prodding at his patience with you. “just relax and be quiet.”
he really didn’t want to, but he shut his mouth.
once he did, you rewarded him. grabbed his cock hanging from his boxers in your fist and pumped it once, twice. billy sighed deeply.
“ah, shit, there ya go- good girl,” he groaned as you continued your movements steadily, quickening slightly with each slow stroke. his eyes closed, head falling back with an opened mouth. you twisted your hand around his base and pulled up, repeating this movement over and over again until the vein running up his cock started pulsing blood to his angry tip. beads of white began pooling at the slit at the top, calling for you to run your thumb over it and collect them. you pulled your hand off of him and billy’s eyes snapped open, just to watch the pad of your tongue exit your mouth and steal his pre-cum from your finger. the sight made him groan. he must have tried to reach for your hair like he usually does, but you grabbed the bottom of the belt to keep his hands down. again, he could’ve easily broken free from your grip, but he didn’t, just scrunched up his face and clenched his jaw angrily.
“you’re not being very good, billy,” you said. he wanted to slap that smile off of your face. you were enjoying his torment! how cruel.
“and you’re a shitty dom, sweet girl,” he rebutted, gritting his teeth together.
it was your turn to furrow your eyebrows, the smile falling into a grumpy frown. this was harder than it looked.
“you haven’t even been giving me a chance!” you argued, crossing your arms over your chest.
“you are so lucky this is cute.”
you huffed, let your arms fall to your side. you were getting frustrated, your face turning pink and chest heavy as you took a second to think. he was making sure you knew you were never in charge, even with how hard you try to be. but you were about to use the same exact tricks he used on you to get you to behave. you had to break him eventually, right? and he loved you- would never admit it, but he did- and if you wanted some harmless fun, he wouldn’t deprive you. as long as you stayed nice.
so you did, for the moment. made your way to his calves, sitting back on your heels to lift your shirt off. you had definitely been planning this. billy knew as soon as he saw black lace decorating your breasts. you pawed at them, just to make sure he knew you got to touch and he didn’t, and you saw his tongue lick a stripe on his bottom lip hungrily. you let him stare for a minute, groping yourself and tilting your head back pornographically. it was much better than anything billy had seen in the adult section at family video. you lifted onto your knees to push your shorts down your hips, stepping out of them and sliding them down your heels to discard them on the floor. matching set. he’d rip them off of you when you get done with this little game.
without saying anything to him, just letting him stare and drool as you raised your arms to pull your hair into a ponytail and secure it loosely with the scrunchie you had. he knew what was happening, trying to shimmy down the bed to get closer to you.
“m’not gonna let you come, billy,” you said, frowning and trying to look intimidating.
“oh, you’re not?” billy laughed. “poor me. if only i had a way to do it myself.”
you rolled your eyes. jerk. still, you leaned down, so your knees were holding up your thighs with his legs between them. your hands began at the top of his abs, raking your nails down the mounds of muscle. you caught a tiny hiss from billy at the sting, muscles tensing up under your touch.
“i’m serious, billy. and i’m in charge right now.”
“ah, right. almost forgot,” billy chuckled, bending his elbows to rest his bound hands on his chest. he watched you wrap a hand around his shaft and spit a thick ball of saliva onto his cock. he almost lost it when you lifted your hand up, pulling down the spit and coating the rounded flesh. he was certainly hard now, pulsing and demanding to be touched. he canted his hips up when you lightly squeezed at his base, right up close to his balls, and you had to react quick by removing your hand altogether.
“billy,” you whined, not intending it to be whiney but that was just how it came out. “be still!”
“alright, alright, okay- i’ll be still. just keep goin’, baby.”
you huffed, and then returned your hand around him. he grunted, planted his hips into the mattress and watched as your head lowered, your ass lifting up into the air where he could see the valley in your panties. you began pumping his cock at a slow pace, enough to give you time to take his tip onto your tongue. the smooth skin weighed down in your mouth, anchoring itself and encouraging you to continue to lower your mouth, slowly, staring up at him with pretty eyes.
“ah, fuck,” he groaned, fists clenching into balls as your own fist cupped his. trying to coax the orgasm out of him, you massaged the heavy sack around in your palm as your throat relaxed, taking more of his thick cock into your mouth. he let out a breathy moan, fighting the urge to let his head loll back because he just wanted to watch you take him. you did, took him until you felt him poking at the back of your throat, and then stopped. you weren’t going to give him what he wanted, choke and gag on him as he called you a dirty little girl- and instead just rose up, and then sunk down to the same spot, the other hand not occupied by his balls twisting at his base. you repeated this at a painfully slow pace, slow enough to make him growl and let a small pool of drool in the corner of his mouth develop.
“come on, baby, gimme more than that,” he said, but you couldn’t tell if it was a plea or a demand.
you pulled off of him, a long trail of slick, murky spit connecting him to you. “what do you say?”
billy scoffed, heaving and grinding up into your palm. “i’m not gonna fuckin- ask you,” he grunted.
you shrugged, loosening your soft hold on him with the very intent of walking away altogether.
“okay then. guess i’ll just-“
“okay! okay, jesus fucking christ, you brat. please.”
good enough. you’ll take it.
you smiled in victory, happily gripping his cock to continue pumping at his base. your tongue licked at his tip, swiping up all of the pearly beads that had returned, like he was sweet candy. and then you lowered onto him, opening up wide to accommodate his girth. he groaned, spitting out a string of curses. it just egged you on further to get him off, sucking down on him and smoothing your tongue over every inch you could get, cycling your head up and down and picking up a gradual speed. his groans increased, belly rising and falling at an elevated speed as you fucked him with your sweet mouth.
you lapped at his cock, trying to suck him dry for all it was worth while you still had him there. your jaw was slack, but billy was thick enough where if you weren’t careful, your teeth grazed against him and let you know with a hiss and a broken groan. you’d never seen billy so vulnerable in bed, fighting against bucking his hips up to lodge into your throat, hands to himself. he usually couldn’t keep them off of you. instead, they were clenched at his chest, wrists connected with brown leather. he was sweating when you looked up at him through your eyelashes, releasing his girth just to lick and suck all around his cock. your lips connected to the side of his length, the opposite hand holding him still and pressing the meaty shaft against your tongue. his lips were wide open as he panted, his belly rising and falling rapidly.
you were making a show of it, messy as possible. spit catching on your chin and surrounding your swollen lips as the pink muscle in your mouth extruded to lick a long, heavy stripe all the way up to the heavy crown of his cock. you engulfed his length with wet heat, tongue cupping him as you slid down, and down until your nose was buried in dark, curly hair, seemingly far more kept than the hair on his head. trimmed perfectly to pillow your face when he was shoved down your throat.
“god damnit, fuck- just like that,” he murmured, voice grating and low enough you could feel it on your tongue. he started to get close after a while, especially when you took your hand off of his shaft and paired it with your other one on his balls, moving and massaging the skin in unison. his moans started to get louder, and you knew you won when he started to grumble and fuss, “fuck, fuck- gonna cum, baby-“
and so you stopped. pulled off of him completely, panting yourself and wiping the mess off of your chin with a smile. billy went still, screwing his eyes shut for a quick second before his jaw tensed up, his bite hard enough to bite through leather as his eyes opened, blue eyes clouded and fucking dark. something was swirling in them, an anger you had never seen from him. his face was hot, you could feel it radiating from the feet between you. he was pissed.
“what the fuck was that?” he asked, way too calmly for your liking. it was eerie.
“oh, i’m sorry, did i do something?” you responded ‘innocently,’ lifting onto your knees and scooting up to sit on his hips, just above his cock.
“ohhh, you are going to fucking regret that.”
you hummed, “mmmh, i dont think i am. i told you exactly what i was gonna do.”
“you goddamn bitch,” billy spat, shaking his head. he was so hard by now it hurt. he felt lightheaded, all of the blood and adrenaline filling up his length. “i am never letting you-“
“- be a good boy, billy. i’ll give you what you want if you’re good,” you interrupted, reaching up to pinch his cheek playfully before it abandoned his skin.
“i swear to god-“
“i wouldn’t have had to if you had just listened to me!“ you retorted. you scooted up his torso to slot perfectly onto his chest, his slightly bent knees keeping you holstered.
“you are being such a brat. did you just want my attention? because you sure as hell got it,” he snapped.
“no!” you exclaimed, eyebrows narrowing together and the corners of your lips tensing down. “i just wanted to try something new. and you decided to be a bad boy.”
“fuck, (y/n). just fucking untie me.”
“mm-mh. you’re gonna be a good boy and let me finish!” you argued, hand reaching to grab at his chin, which he immediately turned away from you to avoid. it worked in your favor. you didnt know what came over you, but you must have channeled billy in that moment- or all of the frustration billy gave you.
“i am not. fucking bitch, i-“
he got cut off.
a smack sounded through the room. and then silence. just the heavy sound of both of your breathing. billy just saw red, far redder than the red on his cheek from where your hand had landed. you had slapped him. not hard, of course, but enough to lock in your death sentence. it was silent. an eerie silence besides his heavy breathing as your face fell when his tightened.
“d’you just fuckin’ hit me?” he deadpanned, quietly, barely above a whisper. it was rhetoric.
you nodded, clueless.
“undo the belt,” he demanded, growling like an animal.
“i’m not gonna do that.”
“fine, jesus!” he snapped, reaching his own hands up to his mouth. you watched, frozen in place as his teeth sunk into the leather to pull it apart, loosening until he could throw it aside and off of his wrists. he didn’t waste any time. he had you pinned down in a matter of seconds, hands pinned down with a tight grip, tattooing your skin with a red handprint. you stared up at him with big eyes, wiggling around and trying to rid him of yourself like he was some sort of spider catching you in his web.
“you think you can just fuckin’ hit me?“ billy barked, taking both of your wrists into one hand so he could roughly grip your face in the other. his hands were big; he could cover a good bit of your chin and cheeks like this, and he abused that power by squishing your cheeks and making your lips pout out pathetically, helplessly.
“i just-“
“no, i don’t wanna hear shit from you, unless it’s an apology, or yes sir.”
he squeezed your cheeks harder, wiggled your face side to side as you stared up at him as struggled with your wrists and his grasp. “you shoulda quit while it was still cute babygirl, but you had to be a dumb slut.”
his voice was rough, small bits of spit flying onto your face and making you jump.
“you really thought you could be in control of me? look at you,” he laughed darkly, “you’re fucking pathetic.”
“m’sorry, billy!” you squeaked out, having a hard time moving your mouth much with his hold.
it quickly left as soon as it came, leaving your face for only a split second before it laid itself back down on you harshly. it your face with enough strength to make your head fall the opposite way. you cried out, tears immediately collecting in a sheer bubble over your eyes.
“hey,” he barked, smacking you again with a heavy palm after nudging your face to the center with his knuckle. “don’t you-“ another slap. “- fucking do that. cut it out.”
you wailed each time, mouth hung open while you let your head rest forward, now bracing one side of your face. tears streamed down your cheeks with each hit, the force sending the droplets flying.
“i’m sorry, billy,” you sniffled, tugging your wrists in his hold. “i was just trying-“
“shut up.” he bit, releasing your hands just to be able to slap the other side of your face. he pushed himself up onto his knees, running a frustrated hand through his curls. it made his tricep flex, thick muscle made for throwing you around.
“up on your knees, baby.”
you whined, struggled to sit up because of how shaky you were, so billy helped you out by gripping your hips and making sure you were steady on your knees in front of him, black lace panties completely on display for him. he continued to grab your wrists again, effectively shoving your face down into the mattress with a cry. he held your forearms together at your back, pulling you flush against his cock, the thin fabric allowing you to feel his hard length against you.
“you feel that?”
“mm-hmm.”
“s’that what you wanted, baby? you just wanted my cock?”
“y-yes sir,” you whined, setting your hips back. he caught them in his hands, keeping you still where you were placed. he gave your ass a hard slap for good measure, the outline of his hand appearing on your skin as you mewled out, your fists tensing into themselves until your nails dug into your palm.
“don’t be greedy, brat. you get what you deserve,” billy spat, laying his hand down on the residue of his slap and squeezing hard.
“was gonna be nice, too,” he grumbled, reaching to the side to grab the discarded belt. “let you have your fun. but you just had to get ahead of yourself, nasty girl.”
while he was speaking, he had grabbed you by the hair, pulling you up with no support, just his hand bunched in your hair keeping you up. you whined again, your scalp burning as he gripped the roots. he snaked around your shoulder, gripping at your throat tightly as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“you really sorry yet?”
you nodded, humming yes as best as you could.
“look at me,” he snarled. “look at me and tell me.”
your eyes snapped to the corners of your eyes so you could look at him, billy tugging your hair at an angle so you were uncomfortably craned to see his angry face.
“m’so sorry, billy-“ you sniffled.
“tell me you’re a bad girl.”
you frowned. not cool.
“i’m-.. i’m a bad girl,” you whimpered. it was better to do what he told you than to fight it- billy could get meaner, you knew better.
“much better. see how easy it is?”
you nodded quickly. you looked like a scared little puppy, eyes bright and big and eyebrows high on your face.
“words, (y/n),” he grumbled.
“yes sir- uh-huh.”
it was billy’s turn to nod in acceptance of your obedience.
“would have been so much better if you just-“ a heavy palm laid down on your ass, where you realized all you had to support you now was his clutch on your throat. “-behaved, but what more could i expect from you?”
his fingers dug into the sides of your neck, squeezing roughly until he was sure your vision got fuzzy. billy leaned in close to you, lips pressing against your ear.
“was this your plan? piss me off so i treat you like a whore?” he spat.
“no sir- was just playin’ around,” you choked out, your head beginning to feel like it was full of air. tears returned in your eyes.
“ohh, playing around,” he repeated in a mocking tone, gripping the flesh on your hip tightly with his free hand. it slid down, over the curve of your ass and squeezing the doughy skin in the process. he cupped your hot cunt, chuckling when he felt the wet warmth rub against his palm.
“you’re soaked, pretty girl. gettin’ off by getting put in your place.”
billy let go of your throat, pressing at your chest to keep you up while he wrapped the belt you used on him around the placement of his missing hand. he slid the end through the buckle, sliding it all the way down until the metal hit the back of your neck and tailed a good enough length for him to pull at like a leash. and then he pushed you down,sending your torso falling onto the mattress to your original position, forcing a wail from your air-deprived self. the hand that occupied your neck pressed against your cheek, shoving you into the mattress further as a couple tears ran down to leave little droplets in his sheets. he hadn’t told you to, but your arms stayed at your back, fingers stuck to the opposite elbow to keep them from moving.
“god, baby,” he snarled, framing your sides with his big hands to press your hidden hole against the mighty head of his cock. you squealed, screwing your eyes shut to distract yourself. “hurts me more than it does you. just wanted my good, sweet little girl.”
he slapped your ass, the side neglected from his attacks, hard enough to sound a sharp, loud vibration to wave through the room that mixed with your choked sob. and then again. and again, and again, and several more times for good measure. all while tugging at his makeshift-leash on you, making sure to abuse both sides of you as you writhed and cried out various apologies and curses. it stung. a lot. a cold sting that morphed into a flame, every slap hurting more than the last one. but it was a good hurt. a hurt you would happily accept from billy’s palm, regardless of your disobedience or not.
he eventually took pity on you and your reddened skin, nearing the purple side of the color wheel and passed the black fabric over the colors, down your thighs. it bundled at your bent knees, and billy caught the fabric underneath his knees as he loomed behind you. he pulled on the belt especially hard.
“you’re not gonna cum until i tell you to. got it?”
“yessir, mhm.” you nodded rapidly, tear painted cheek scraping against his blue sheets. you could’ve cum from just a little stimulation at that point, but you were determined to follow his rules and earn back your spot on his good side.
with a loud grunt, billy shoved himself into you, reaching your limit in one move. you moaned out, a pathetic moan that someone could’ve mistaken for a cry of pain.
“fuck, holy shit,” he groaned. “for such a nasty girl, you have got the best goddamn pussy.”
your walls clenched around him, greedily swallowing his cock in as if he could get further. you whined, whimpered, mumbling out sounds of, “ggghh,” and “ohhh,” and other weak sounds that billy ate up whole. he stayed there for a long minute, just soaking in your slick pussy lodged between puffy lips crying out of relief. he tugged on the leather, pulling you back to stay locked onto his cock. he fastened it low enough on your neck to cut off your air flow, but not enough to damage you. not that it made it any more comfortable, but he didn’t exactly care about that. he wanted to hurt you. he was an animal- grunting and growling as he kept his cock stuffed in you, basking in the way you cried for mercy.
he stayed there for several minutes, occasionally loosening his grip on the leather and giving you enough time to pant and gasp for air. you had drooled onto his sheets, spit dribbling down your chin from the corners of your lips. your head was completely empty besides the pure instinct to please him- and that was by letting him fuck you like some toy that only existed for him to use.
“billy, billy please- please, move- m’so, so sorry,” you cried, digging your forehead into the blue cloth below you.
billy choked out a breathy laugh. your pleas became a chant, a prayer hymn for billy to eat up and form some pity for you. it must’ve worked, and for a second you thought there was a god. he slid out of you, slowly, stretching you wide to the point where his length enlarged, and then rammed back into you, deep and rough. you mewled, crying a curse that left your mouth hung open wide enough to catch a spider. he repeated his actions, somehow hitting a spot even deeper in you by pulling you back by the hip. his filled balls slapped against your clit, ready to be emptied dry inside you. he worked into a steady, rough pace, deep and slow and tugging on the belt end opposite to him.
“hurts me- shit- much more than it hurts you, baby. god, just wanted my good girl,” billy’s voice rumbled, breathless and vibrating in his throat. his head fell back in a moan as you milked him, clenched around him to keep him from leaving.
he started to speed up, erratic and filthy, an uneven pace that drove you crazy in the form of a long wail, filled with pleasure and relief and the impure urge to be ruined.
“mmh- thank you, thank you!” you squeaked. your nails were digging into your elbows which were pressed into the crevices in your back. billy’s seize on your hip was bruising, a reminder that he was the one controlling your pleasure and torment. he continued at a bruising pace, sending sparks screeching through your veins like wheels on a train track. it almost hurt, if it wasn’t overthrown by the pleasure he was providing in abundance. he could feel your heartbeat, and swore he could see himself poke through the membrane of your belly when he thrusted in hard. you were getting off from it, too, he could just feel how your core got tense, like all of the rushing, angry water beating against a dam wall, searching for the tiniest crack to bleed through.
“touch yourself,” he barked, low and angry. “if you wanna cum, get there yourself.”
you knew he was serious, and a hot flash of fear stabbed at you. your fingers basically teleported to your swollen clit, yelping out as your middle finger trailed around the little pleasure-machine. it felt good, too good, with billy attacking every single nerve and it being magnified by your fingers. you couldn’t last long. you heard the slapping of skin, the sharp sounds highlighting how the back of your thighs burned from billy’s own flesh rebounding off of it. he loved the way the meat of your bottom recoiled and bounced with his thrusts, thighs open with a shaky hand lodged between them. he didn’t love how slow your fingers were, though.
“do i gotta do it my fuckin’ self? my god, you’re useless,” he chortled cruelly. his hand reached in between your thighs, the pads of his middle and pointer finger immediately snapping to abuse your aching clit. it coaxed a loud, very embarrassing shout from you, just barely muffling it by shoving your face into his bed.
“ah- billy! too much, slow down!” you sputtered, stammering in between moans and cries. your hands were about to support your body by resting on either side of your head, but billy let go of your little leash he made to grab your forearms, glueing them together so you couldn’t go anywhere unless he allowed you to. by that point he was rubbing your bud fervently, a clear goal in his head at your expense. he would tell you that this was for his pleasure, but it was almost painful how erotic this all was for billy. jackhammering into you like he had nothing to lose as you panted and cried like a dog, collar and all. you were shaking, writhing, pushing your hips back slightly every time he slammed into you. it was filthy, sweat and drool and tears.
“oh, it’s too much? oh, i’m so sorry. poor fuckin’ thing,” he explicitly lied, jesting and definitely humiliating. he responded to your complaint by just going harder, staying at the same pace with his thrusts but amplifying their force. his fingers circled your clit like he was trying to start a fire. in a matter of seconds, he felt you squeezing his cock, fluttering tightly to try and fight your pummeling release. he slowed down then, remaining at a force that let him brush up against your cervix, but now lingering there for seconds at a time. every time he pulled out, he pulled out almost all the way until your heat tried to squeeze and swallow him back in, just to jam right back into you.
billy was heaving, grunting like a beast as he gripped your leash and pulled you onto your knees, slotting his chin on your shoulder as he wrapped a strong arm around your waist to hold you up. he left the belt taut, cinching your throat and forcing you to angle your head back onto him.
“don’t even think about it,” he snarled right into your ear, hot breath fanning over your neck. he laid a loud, booming hit to the side of your thigh, making you jolt forward and, in result, choke yourself. “you are going to wait.”
“yes sir- m’sorry sir,” you sobbed, nodding, sniffling and moaning when he anchored himself inside you. you could feel him everywhere, all throughout your stomach and abs, and you made it worse when you clenched down on him to create a border for your threatening release.
“tell me how sorry you are,” he huffed.
“so sorry!” you whined. “m’so sorry for- fuck, being a brat- just- just wanted your a-attention, oh my god.”
“yeah? d’you get what you wanted?”
you nodded, as best as you could. “uh-huh- fuckin’ me so good. never gonna brat a-again!”
it was getting incredibly hard to hold it. like, impossibly hard. he knew. released your leash to claw at your hips to quicken to a brutal pace. he heard you cry out, moaning like some whore to the point of shouting.
“you are such a goddamn slut, you know that?” billy rumbled, slithering between your thighs once again to rub your sensitive pearl. he laughed breathily when you mewled, basically howling at this point.
“yes sir! yes sir, i’m a slut- please, please let me cum-“
“oh, honey,” he mocked, nipping at the side of your sweaty neck. he growled through gritted teeth when he spoke, failing at balancing talking with huffing angrily through his nose like a bull. “fuck, m’gonna cum in you. fill you up.”
his hold on your hip tightened, definitely planning to leave a red handprint when he was done with you.
“you want that?” he asked, gravely and with a cruel grin. “beg me. ask me to cum in you.”
“please!” you yelped immediately. “please, cum in me- wanna be full so bad. please, billy..”
he buried his nose into your shoulder, and you could feel his heavy breath ridden with the warm scent of lust run down your back.
“please, please please,” you chanted, your own voice a husk of the phony confidence it once displayed. your face was squeezed together, cheeks protruding up high. the crevices on your forehead deepened, catching the sweat that formed. “need it so bad. m’your bad girl, please-“
he liked that. he liked it a whole lot. so much he just had to reward you by angling himself back a tad, just to slam into your g-spot and ensure you wouldn’t last long.
“you are my bad girl, aren’t you, baby?” he repeated, chuckling from the back of his throat. “you wanna cum?”
you nodded rapidly, raising your voice to mousey shout. “yes! yes, please- let me cum, please!”
“tell me you’re sorry, one more time.”
tears streamed down your face. you turned as best you could to look at him, give him the saddest doe eyes you could. there was sweat drenching the hair just past your forehead, tears mixing with spit on your chin and jaw. your cheeks were hot, burning red.
“i’m so, so sorry billy.”
he didn’t even get to finish the word before you were cumming around his thick cock. clenching down, biting, trying to milk him dry as your body imploded on itself. everything went white for a second, and you thought jesus himself would come down and give you a fist bump for literally being fucked to death. your toes and fingers were tingly, releasing the tight flex they had been posed in. one final, loud cry erupted from you, a big firework to mark your release in time. you were floating for that quick second, eyes rolling to the back of your head to where you could see billy in your head, smirking behind you, grunting and growling.
when you came to, he was still going at it. pounding into you, but now he had released your leash to wrap his bicep around your throat, choking you just enough to keep you there with him. he was huffing and puffing, going at a speed you never thought you would see billy move at. he was always so cool, even when he was angry he moved slowly, calculating his every move to get what he wanted. but at that moment, he was fucking you like some woodland beast, a folktale used to scare catholic children into obedience. you would have thought he was planning on devouring you whole.
his fingers were still working your clit, sending you sputtering and pleading for him to slow down, none of which was coherent or important. everything was so sensitive, every touch and movement a fuse that quickly lit into a fire on every inch of your insides.
“too much! too much, billy!” you sobbed, ripping your hands from your back to claw at his forearm.
“i will- fuck, fuck- i’ll tell you when it’s too much,” he bellowed.
you were full on crying at that point, the pleasure just too much to handle in your humanly body. it was so intense, but you just couldn’t pull yourself away from him. you couldn’t fight it.
it was only a couple more minutes before his thrusting became erratic, uneven and extremely sloppy. slowed down just a tad and used his arm to angle your chin towards him, so he could messily connect your lips in a hungry, feral kiss. if it could even be considered that. it was just spit and teeth and a little bit of tongue, with billy doing most of the work as your body fought to settle all of the sensations. he slammed into you once, twice, three times, before he buried his big cock into you as far as he could. you wailed, letting out a noise that mimicked that of an injured cat, but you were the exact opposite of injured. it felt like it wasn’t supposed to be there, but felt so perfect at the same time. you had never been fuller. especially when you felt a warmth, a wetness, coat your insides in a slick filth and drip down your cunt. he moaned deeply, whined a little bit, and burrowed his nose into your neck.
you were still whining, crying and wiggling against him until he slowly slid out of you. you stayed still, not knowing what he wanted you to do, as he pressed on your lower back to push you down into your starting position, where your palms pressed down on the sheets on either side of your head. your body felt numb now, weak and unable to move, but you couldn’t tell if that was because you didn’t want to.
“god, look at you,” billy said roughly, grabbing your ass and spreading you apart to watch his cum drip out of you, slide down your thighs and run down your puffy lips. he smacked you, a smack much less harsher than the ones before but still made you jolt forward and yelp. your ass was basically bruised, a dark, deep flushed color and nearing the purple stage.
you just cried more when he collected as much of his cum as he could that buried into your cunt, and then pushed it back inside you with two of his fingers.
“billy! billy, please, too sensitive!” you squealed.
“oh, baby,” he cooed. “you didn’t think i was done with ya, did you?”
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dvrk-moon · 2 months
Text
LEE HEESEUNG ; 이희승
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— requested: yes!
— synopsis: running into your rival house’s quidditch captain with your friends at hogsmeade wasn’t exactly the way you planned to hard launch your relationship. 
— word count: 2k
— genre: harry potter au, fluff, a bit of angst sorry i love angst
— pairing: gryffindor!heeseung x fem!slytherin!reader
— featuring: jake, sunghoon, jay, aespa yizhuo (ningning) and minjeong (winter), loona/loossemble yeojin and hyeju, txt huening kai
— warnings: cursing
— taglist: @llvrhee @lovelycassy
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i. BUTTERBEER AND EXPOSURE
It was cold, to put things lightly.
It was the second week of December, about a week before the fall term at Hogwarts ended, and the winter season decided to make its presence known well this year with the chilly winds and white snow covering every surface imaginable. You were donned in a sweater, jeans, boots, a puffy coat, and a green scarf to accentuate your Slytherin pride. You weren’t wearing gloves, and the frostbite that would soon be eating away at your hands was making you regret not deciding to wear a better outfit to Hogsmeade.
You were currently stood outside of Three Broomsticks with one of your best friends who’s also the captain of the Slytherin quidditch team: Park Sunghoon. The two of you were waiting for some other close friends to join you at the tavern for some Butterbeer and unloading stress after the packed term.
Sunghoon watched you shove your hands into your pockets after trying to warm them up for the third time in the past minute; he laughed at your once-again failed attempt, rubbing his own (gloved) hands together, “You really should’ve brought gloves, Y/N.”
“You really should mind your business.” You retorted, giving him a sour look. You looked at your watch, “What’s taking them so long, anyway?”
“I dunno, you know how Hyeju and Yizhuo get when Jay is running late,” he sighed, “because what I bet is that they left without him, like usual, and then they felt bad and went back for him, like usual.”
“You’re definitely right,” you paused, “but that doesn’t mean we need to suffer in the cold for them. Can’t we go inside?”
“No,” Sunghoon laughed, “they’ll be pissed and you know that.”
Your friend group, comprised solely of Slytherins, seemed to always have situations like these happen to it. Especially those consisting of Hyeju and Jay.
As if on cue, the echoes of the voices of the aforementioned Yizhuo, Hyeju, and Jay were heard in the distance. You playfully rolled your eyes at the three as they made their ways into your field of vision.
Hyeju ran ahead of the other two, clad in a puffy coat and fuzzy hat that made her look like a second year rather than a seventh year. Even running late, she was dressed more appropriately than you were.
“There you guys are,” you huffed when they got closer, “we’ve been waiting for like ten minutes. It’s freezing.”
“Maybe you should’ve dressed warmer,” Jay said, shrugging, “just an idea. Wanna go inside?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
The five of you entered the tavern, immediately met with a wave of warmth and the chatter and laughter of the fellow tavern-goers. The scent of Butterbeer and Rum enveloped your nose and made you smile without realizing. The warm lighting welcomed you into a table around the middle of the room.  
A waiter soon found his way to your table, “Good evening, everyone. Do you all know what you want or should I give you a few minutes and then come back?”
“I think it’ll just be a round full of Butterbeer, so long as that’s okay with you.” Sunghoon motioned to the whole table, smiling at the waiter.
“On it. I’ll be right back with those for you.”
Talk about school and classmates flowered easily into the conversation, mostly about Quidditch and your recent loss to Gryffindor’s team a weekend prior. Sunghoon wasn’t pleased about the situation, and he especially made his disdain towards the Gryffindor Quidditch team captain, Jake Sim, known.
“It’s bloody stupid,” he nagged, “Sim caught the Snitch at the worst time. We were up 20, and then of course the ‘Golden Boy’ had to sweep in and get the victory. God, I hate Gryffindor.”
Your friends all agreed with Sunghoon, but you kept quiet. 
You were secretly dating Lee Heeseung, one of the Chasers on the Gryffindor team, and none of your friends knew. You had shown up to the match with them, clad in your Slytherin attire, cheering on Sunghoon. In the middle of the match, however, you feigned sickness, and told your friends you were going back to your room to rest. You roomed with Yizhuo, so you had to make sure that whenever you were done with fibbing to them, you had to beat her back to the housing.
What you were really doing was going back to the Slytherin common rooms to change into Gryffindor attire so you could cheer on your boyfriend. Luckily, the entire house was attending the match, so you had no worries about being caught in the Gryffindor wear. You snuck back to the match and found yourself with a few of Heeseung’s friends, Kai, Minjeong, and Yeojin.
Your friends still had no idea (you hoped) about what happened that day, and you intended to keep it that way. So, instead of speaking against their badmouthing, you just sat there in silence.
The waiter returned with your drinks and you wasted no time getting started on yours.
As if on cue, a voice cut through the noise that you would be able to recognize anywhere; it was Heeseung, accompanied by Jake, Yeojin, and Minjeong, who had just also walked into Three Broomsticks.
“Speak of the Devil.” Sunghoon snarled at the presence of the four.
“Ironic,” Hyeju laughed, “that’s bloody ironic.”
The four Gryffindors sat themselves at a table not far from where you and your friends were sat, close enough to be in earshot despite the chatter of the tavern.
You knew Sunghoon was a lightweight, but you didn’t think he’d be drunk (or ballsy) enough to already start conflict with the Gryffindors.
“Aye, Sim,” he called, to which Jake whipped his head around to spot the voice. At the sight of Sunghoon, he rolled his eyes.
Heeseung had also turned his head, quickly scanning the group to look for you. His gaze softened when you locked eyes, but he quickly sent a glare to Sunghoon.
“What do you want, Park?” Jake asked, turning his body around to face your table. He laughed, “Not still caught on that Quidditch match, are you?”
“Oh, yes, I am, actually. Some bloody sense of luck you’ve got, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d cheated to win.” 
Jake rolled his eyes again, “Maybe we’re just better, Park. Ever think of that?”
“No,” Sunghoon glared, “it has never been a thought in my mind, and it never will be. Because it’s just not true.”
“You really think so? Because, if I recall correctly, one of your friends even came to cheer on Gryffindor. Some loyal housemates you have,” Jake said, “won’t even cheer on their own team because they know we’re better.”
Jake’s eyes flashed towards your own for a split second, making you widen your eyes in an attempt to get him to stop talking. 
“As if,” Sunghoon commented. He looked at all of you, “because I saw them all there cheering for Slytherin.”
“Clearly you weren’t looking close enough.”
You saw Sunghoon furrow his eyebrows, to which he glanced back around the table. You swallowed briefly, hoping that he wouldn’t notice your nervous look. You again widened your eyes at Jake, urging him to stop.
“What’s going on…?” Sunghoon looked confused, and a bit hurt.
Yeojin grabbed Jake’s shoulder, letting him know that he should probably let up and not let his pride get the best of him.
“Can someone please just explain what’s going on?” 
The desperation in Sunghoon’s voice caused you to look over at Heeseung, who gave you a reassuring smile, almost telling you, ‘It’s okay, let them know if you want to’.
You sighed and grabbed Sunghoon’s arm, forcing his attention towards you. His look melted from one of hurt and confusion to another of something indescribable.
“I’m sorry for keeping this a secret,” you started, “but now that you know, I can’t lie anymore.”
“Did you really go cheer on our rivals, Y/N?” Hyeju asked, looking at you with a hint of betrayal.
“I did. But I had a reason to,” you clarified, “because otherwise I would have never cheered on Gryffindor. No offense, Jake.”
Yizhuo stifled a laugh at the look that Jake gave you which was one of shock. It seemed like out of all your friends, she cared the least about the situation at hand. Jay and Sunghoon stayed quiet.
You stood up from your spot and walked over to behind Heeseung and placed a hand on his shoulder. You sent your best friends a slightly apologetic look, but started, “I cheered on Gryffindor because I…”
You trailed off. This was a lot harder than you’d anticipated. You started again, “I’m dating Lee Heeseung. He’s a Chaser, and I’d gone to every other match to cheer him on. Sunghoon, I’m really sorry about lying. It wasn’t fair to you guys.”
“You have a boyfriend?” Jay questioned, finally breaking his silence. He laughed, “God, I thought you were going to die alone. This is great news, actually.”
Yizhuo and Hyeju laughed, and the tension seemed to ease at the joke. Even Jake cracked a smile. 
But Sunghoon still didn’t say anything.
You returned to your seat which was next to him. He barely acknowledged your presence.
“Do you wanna talk?” You asked. You looked at him, “We can go outside.”
Sunghoon vaguely nodded and stood up to lead you outside into the cold. Once outside, he sighed.
“I’m really sorry, Sunghoon. I should’ve been there to cheer you on,” you said, “I wasn’t being a very good friend.”
“It’s not even about that, Y/N.” He spoke, frustrated, yet seemingly more calm than earlier, “Why did it have to be a Gryffindor of all houses? Our rival house? Really?”
“I know, I’m sorry…” you apologized, “but it just kind of happened. Honestly, I am sorry for lying to you all for so long. But I’m the happiest I’ve been.”
“When did you start seeing him?”
Heeseung stepped out of the door right before Sunghoon started his sentence, and answered the question for you:
“We’ve been together since April.”
“April? Y/N, that’s a long time.” Sunghoon said exasperated.
“I know,” you said, watching Heeseung make his way to stand behind you. You brought your attention back to Sunghoon, “but you always talk so lowly of Gryffindors. I didn’t want you to feel betrayed.”
“I’m more upset that you felt the need to lie to us for so long, Y/N,” he huffed, “I’m really happy that you’re happy. But we’re your best friends, why didn’t you feel like you could trust us with knowing this?”
Heeseung wrapped his arms around your shoulders to preserve heat. Sunghoon’s gaze softened at your smile towards Heeseung.
“I’m happy for you,” Sunghoon said, “I really am. I’m sorry we had to find out like this, my pride got the better of me during the argument.”
“I forgive you, and I’m sorry for lying to you.”
“It’s okay, we know now, and that’s what matters,” Sunghoon replied, “at least you’re not dating Sim. That’s what really matters.”
You laughed at him.
“I’m gonna go back inside,” he told you, “and maybe try to make friends so that things aren’t weird,” he stopped, looking at Heeseung, “but you better treat her well. I have no problem being anti-Gryffindor again.”
Heeseung laughed nervously as Sunghoon entered the tavern again. You turned around in his embrace, craning your neck to look at him. 
“So,” you started.
“So?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow at you and breaking into a smile.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry, angel? You did nothing wrong. It’s better that they found out eventually, but I should be sorry for not keeping Jake in check.”
“You’re okay,” you reassured, wrapping your arms around him. You pressed your cheek against his chest, “I’m happy they know. Sunghoon will get over the loss.”
“Hopefully.”
You looked up to notice the snowfall that had started falling on Heeseung’s brown locks. You pressed yourself closer to him for warmth.
“Maybe they could even become friends.” You suggested.
“I hope they can become friends: Jake and Sunghoon. I feel like they’d click.”
Peeking into the window of the tavern, you noticed how your friends and Heeseung’s had conjoined into one table. 
You let your face break out into a relaxed smile, “Maybe.”
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a/n : this was so fun to write i can’t wait to get to other reqs
215 notes · View notes
writingstoraes · 1 year
Text
is he? 💍
pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader
type: instagram imagine/social media au
notes: not proofread nor revised so please expect errors! lmk what you think <3 also lmk if u wanna be included in my taglist!
about: charles takes you on a rather spectacular trip to amsterdam, one of your dream destinations, and you decide to poke fun at him joking whether he was going to propose or not.
yourusername
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liked by arthurleclerc, lilymhe, yukitsunoda0511, and 104,678 others
yourusername life update! charles said he's taking me to amsterdam to kick off his break from racing now that the season has wrapped up <3
the million dollar question... is he proposing or did he just plan a trip to my dream destination spontaneously?
charles_leclerc Before I answer anything, you pack terribly, mon ange (said with love 🥰)
yourusername u have guts to tell me that as if we haven't seen that C2 challenge with Carlos
charles_leclerc Hey I was under pressure! I pack just fine!
carlossainz55 No Charles you suck at packing, its a good thing you're a great driver
ilovecharles ok but charles didnt say no... is he actually proposing?????
yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, lilymhe, kellypiquet, and 150,678 others
yourusername part 2 of this saga: is charles proposing or did he just willingly accompany me to my nail appointment before the trip? is he proposing or did i just get the urge to try on and pack several "fancy" dresses?
pierregasly You know what Y/N, you are onto something
ferrarilover OH MYGODHHHH DO U KNOW SOMETHING PIERRE
charles_leclerc Pierre 🤦‍♂️
sainz55cs Oh he knows something we dont
yourusername
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liked by pascale_leclerc, arthurleclerc, carlossainz55, and 102,567 others
yourusername you guys this is getting suspicious... is charles proposing or did he just buy me a ton of tulips, took me here conveniently before sunset, and said we'd only eat these as snacks because we are having a candlelit dinner in the evening?
(ps. amsterdam is beyond beautiful i am in awe i love you charles thanks for taking me here 😘)
charles_leclerc Or maybe I am just a wonderful boyfriend, mon amour
charlesmyfavedriver CHARLES PLAYING VICTIM I CANT
landonorris Seems suspicious but okay
danielricciardo Okay now Y/N really has got me curious if Charles is going to propose or not
carlossainz55 Tell me about it, mate! Isa turned her notifications on for them 🤦‍♂️
charles_leclerc
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liked by scuderiaferrari, pierregasly, lewishamilton, and 1,567,902 others
charles_leclerc To answer everyone's question, yes I did propose. Looking forward to spending forever with you, yourusername ❤️ You are undoubtedly one of the best things that have ever happened to me. You own me - body, heart, and soul.
(P.S. Sorry you didn't get to wear your dress amour, it was unexpectedly cold and I did not want you to shiver!)
yourusername i was honestly just joking i didnt expect you to actually propose 😭 you always find ways to surprise me, baby! excited to be your wife 🤍
lewishamilton Wow congratulations, Y/N and Charles! One of the best couple I know 🤍
pierregasly MY MAN you finally did it! Cheers, mate!
charles_leclerc You almost blew my cover, Pierre
pierregasly What are best friends for? 😊
scuderiaferrari Congratulations to our favorite couple! We wish you a great life ahead. ❤️
pascale_leclerc Welcome to the family, Y/N! You have always been my favorite 😘
arthurleclerc What????
carlossainz55 Best wishes, Charles and Y/N! Am I best man yet?
pierregasly Not on my watch you're not
ferrarilover23 WHEN DO I GET A LOVE LIKE THIS
tagging: @slytherheign thanks for keeping up w me spamming you while im making this :))
notes: aaaa my second one! how do you guys like it so far? pls lmk what u think! these are so fun to make but im running out of ideas already 😭
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mxqdii · 4 months
Note
WHERE IS PART THREE
IM LITTERALY DYING TI READ WHAT HAPPENS NEXTTTTTTY
also I have a request
so reader is dating Sam or Colby (you pick❤️). Reader is alone at a haunted location with just Sam or just Colby (does this make sense?) say it was Sam, they are just the two of them and say there were trespassers and they were threatening the two and reader has a panic attack and Sam defend them (Sam or Colby) and calm reader down on the way home.
is that doable?
when part three comes can you tag my other acc
@anythingsamandcolby
take my breath away - c.b
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pairings: colby brock x reader
summary: a day with the boys doesn't go as expected
warning(s): panic attacks, mention of ghosts (??) idk.
a/n: so i see u said just the two of them, but i only realized after i finished writing it... i'm sorry! i hope this is still okay 😭
not proofread
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"are you guys sure this is a good idea?" i say as me, sam and colby enter the gate
"too late now! unlocking that gate took forever" sam says, walking ahead
"we're all gonna die" i mumble sarcastically, scoffing at the boys skipping together joyfully
we decided not to vlog this one, since, well..
we're trespassing.
it's okay though! atleast that's what the boys told me (and what i'm telling myself)
"hey, you okay?" colby, my boyfriend, asks.
"yeah i'm fine, just worried about being shot by a police officer" i say, giving him a look
"calm down, we'll be fine!" he speaks over confidently
"whatever you say" i groan
"woah! guys this place is so cool, let's use the spirit box here" sam yells from ahead, taking off his backpack and grabbing the box
we all listen, hearing a few random meaningless words, until...
my phone starts buzzing, which makes us all jump
"sorry, my alarm- it's midnight if anyone cares" i say, signaling for us to get out of here
"leave" the spirit box says
"yes please- wait was that the box?" i mumble
"trespassing" the box says
"run"
"guys i don't like this.." i mumble, reaching over to grab colby, looking over realizing he's nowhere to be found
"g-guys?" i say, realizing i've been left alone with only the spirit box
"guys this isn't funny. you got me okay? i'm scared." i yell into the distance, hoping to be met with colby's voice or sams laughter
but i don't hear that, instead something worse
the bushes besides me start rustling, and i feel tears brim my eyes
"h-hello?" i almost whisper
this is too much. i wanna go home.
my legs start moving before i can think and i run back to the car, hoping to find sam and colby there, but no.
i realize, i don't have the keys, leaving me in the dark parking lot surrounded by woods, alone.
okay, it's fine, i'm fine, i'll call them.
NO SERVICE
this is when i start freaking out, because what am i supposed to do now??
the only thing i can think to do, cry.
i let myself lean against the locked car door, eventually curling into a ball on the floor
i'm currently a sobbing mess at midnight, alone and cold.
the more i'm sat here with my thoughts, the harder it gets to breathe, causing me to panic.
i try to calm my breathing but can't, colby always helped me with panic attacks, i need colby.
i don't know how much time passed, but eventually, i felt hands on my shoulders and looked up to see colby
thank god.
"colby-" i try to say more but the words get caught in my throat
"shh, baby it's okay. breathe for me okay?" he says
he sits down to my level, pulling me into his lap
"i'm so sorry. we thought it'd be funny to hide but we got lost, i'm so sorry baby that wasn't funny, i know." he hushes my cries, helping me with my breathing along the way
his hands stroking my hair and his smooth rhythm of breaths calm me down,.
(even though his heart is racing)
i snap out of my panic, looking up at him.
i shove my fist into his chest, not hard enough to hurt bad
(as if you could)
"ow!" he says, almost out of instict
"never do that again" i huff
"never again." he repeats back to me, kissing my forehead.
TAGLIST:
@opheliaofficial07 @stargirlv0id @strniolo @annaisabookworm @theperson-nextdoor @its-jennarose @thetriplets3 @anythingsamandcolby
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audreyscribes · 5 months
Text
Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:
⚔ ARES: God of War and Violence 🐗
author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]
When you get claimed, it’s either during or after a victorious battle. If it’s during a battle, like Capture the Flag, it’s when your blood is pumping and you’re on adrenaline high. You could be losing or winning, but you hit that point of state where you’re just so in the zone before you realize you’re covered in red. You decimate the other team, striking fear in their hearts as they see you running over their teammates, your weapon swinging like it’s your own limb. Everyone looks above your head as they see the floating red boar above your head and then you hear a roar of cheer from your now half–siblings. They let out whoops, howls, and cheers, slapping you on the back and some wrestling you if you’re still battle high, before they lift you up and carry you around. 
When you’re shown the cabin, you’re immediately nerved by the boar head posted above the door, its eyes following you…but you can’t focus on that because you’re immediately told and made to remember where the live mines are around the entrance. They didn’t clarify if they were actual mines or alternative mines…they said it was classified information and you didn’t have the clearance level yet. Either which you didn’t want to find out the hard way.
If the Hephaestus cabin is the forge, you bet you can imagine that the Ares cabin is their armoury. It's not on the scale as theirs, but its pretty close. Weapons galore. It's a weapon maniacs dream. You have equipment here to upkeep and maintain weapons and if you pick out a weapon that you're not sure how to maintain? You have siblings jumping up the chance to show you. 
You wanna try and wield different weapons? Go on ahead! Every Ares’ member has their own mini armoury and collection of weapons. 
Y'know how siblings like to push each other and get into play fights? Yeah, the Ares cabin is like that constantly. It goes from rough housing to actual sparring. If you're not a big fan of participating in it, you're going to learn how to redirect people's movements. Don't worry about it getting the heat off you, as long its not entirely personal, you have another Ares’ sibling ready to switch with you. 
You also begin to take on bets because with the amount of rough-housing and sparring, it's just too good of an opportunity. The currency ranges from actual dollars, drachmas, candy bars, or what have you. All currency is accepted.  
People often like talking with their fists, but it's mostly getting rid of the pent up emotions when you guys do some talk to talk. Got to be fair you know.
If you're not particularly looking for a fight, don't worry about it. While it is true, you're a war god child, you're also good at de-escalating. After all, there's a reason in the book, "The Art of War", Sun Tzu says "The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting".
Blood was roaring in your ears with eyes red as you gripped your weapon high. Your veins were pumping with adrenaline, almost making you shake but you never felt more alive. You had just won and you thrust up your weapon high in the air, and let out a yell. Immediately, a cacophony of cheers and yells joined you, sending another spike of adrenaline and you faintly saw the claim of Ares above your head. People swarmed you and in the zone, you attacked them which they gleefully returned back the favour. Then they lifted you up in the air, cheering that about another child of Ares as you were carried back to the Ares cabin where your siblings plopped you in front of it, and Clarisse at the head. 
She grinned at you, her figure imposing but you kept your chin high. 
“Not bad, but expected as a child of Ares. Don’t let it get to your head because there’s plenty coming” she said. 
“Bring it on” you fired back with a grin as she gave a smirk. 
“I’m Clarisse Rue, cabin leader of Cabin 5. Welcome to the Ares cabin.” 
337 notes · View notes
alexxncl · 1 month
Text
‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 34 SPOILERS‼️
masterlist | all lessons | lesson 33 | lesson 35
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i might be getting ahead of myself here, but are we lilith ?? like is that what's happening rn ??? he's not saying mc's name, and raphael doesn't day their name in the next scene...if so then that's actually really fucking sad 💀
it makes sense though, belphie not wanting mc to go into his head bc he's still clinging to the past and doesn't want to lose them forever like he lost his little sister forever, especially since human life is so finite compared to that of a demon or an angel or a reaper
also it's obvious by his choice of words that despite him looking older, belphie is very, very young in his mindscape, just like mammon was. i feel like this also shows how close mams and belphie are even if it's not shown much on screen in the game, or at least how much belphie takes after mammon's, if not all of his older brothers traits, for better or worse
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well nvm...i still think my theory is valid though. belphie wants to go back to his old life and end up not losing lilith, but still have mc with him
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i wonder how similar mammon and belphie's bond in the celestial realm is to their bond in the devildom. is belphie still as reluctant to ask for help and advice openly? is the banter still the same? are there less insults? how does the age gap here cause them to treat each other differently if at all? or the lack of angelic status?
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oh i'm gonna cry
big brother mammon will always have my heart and i need more of him
we know belphie's love of stars and constellations and the night sky in general started when he was in the celestial realm, and seeing it manifest in mammon in his mindscape makes my heart happy, even if mammon isn't the reason he became interested in astronomy (was it michael? lucifer? idk i don't remember)
i also think it's very interesting how belphie's brain is actively working against him "wanting to hide from mc". he literally said "i don't want you to see the inside of my mind" and is hiding away from them. i think, in reality and in his mindscape, he's running from the fact that he has to face his feelings about the idea of mc leaving to go to the "human realm" and the possibility of losing them forever like he lost lilith
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this was (obviously) not beel speaking, but his inner thoughts in the shape and voice of beel. circling back to belphie having the best and worst traits of his brothers, his insecurity and need for reassurance rivals levi's, and we don't get to see it as blatantly because he masks it way better than levi does
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ok so we're here in the timeline...interesting. how much time passed between luci and dia's first meeting and the celestial war? how much time had passed between the celestial war and mc's initial arrival to the devildom? how much had belphie aged?
angels and demons age different than humans do, and belphie doesn't feel any older than like...10 or 11 at the most, but beel seems older than that. maybe its his mind warping things to make himself seem and feel younger, but maybe he really was that young. was lilith even born at this point? how old was belphie during the time of the war ?????
also i'm mad we didn't get to see michael bc i wanna know what he looks like but oh well 🧍🏾
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oh baby :((((
i'm not the biggest belphie fan AT ALL, at least canon belphie, but i think it's necessary to acknowledge how his trauma severely affects the way he acts. he went from blaming himself, to blaming an entire race of people for his sister's death. he feels like he should've been the one to die, even if it meant leaving his twin without him
now, if he got a proper redemption arc after lesson 16, THEN we could talk. i think the devs fumbled his character in that regard, but my hcs about his redemption will have to suffice for now
he didn't want mc to see this dark part of himself because he hates that he still has this mindset, that he's trapped in a cycle of "what ifs" and wishing it were him instead of her, constantly ruminating and letting his anger and grief fester without ever dealing with it properly and letting himself heal. he not only thinks he doesn't deserve to heal, but that he doesn't deserve to live long enough to see himself heal, that he doesnt deserve to live at all
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WHY ARE YOU BEING DIFFICULT????
i mean i knew this would happen since its only lesson 34 and there's still 6 more to go...but damn
i love and hate the fact that he's so smart. like, they could easily just ask barbatos to send them back to the human realm if it was that serious. he's clearly taken a liking to them. lucifer knows something's up, and he won't forge a pact with them until he gets to the bottom of whatever's going on
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initially, i thought it was a spell to bring them back since he'd been the one facilitating the trips into the brothers' mindscapes this whole time, but this is wayyy more interesting
i feel like the barbatoses communicate across timelines, or that their lives intermingle with each others' somehow, so whatever they feel for one person in a specific timeline is felt for ever version of them in every timeline. we know barbatos, at the very least, knows that kayden is an important person in the grand scheme of things, whether it be because of the way diavolo feels about them or because they play a large part in the obey me version of a canon event
if it's more than base level importance, we can assume that there's a level of trust and love that barbatos feels for mc that stretches across time (callback to the login screen's dialogue)
maybe he gave us the piece of the grimoire for a reason outside of belphie's mindscape escapades. what if this is how we gain lucifer's trust? if a demon as powerful as barbatos can give mc a piece of his grimoire, then he should be able to make a pact with them, seeing as they're trustworthy enough to be in cahoots with THE time demon
anyways barbatos is nightbringer and you can't tell me otherwise. unless you think it's michael. then i might hear you out...i'm stuck between thinking either of them is the titular character simply because of the simultaneous lack and abundabce of emphasis on michael's importance
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cx-boxbox · 8 days
Text
I was going to write a fic about Lando wanting to wear pretty clothes, but I gave up after a couple scenes. Anyway, here's the only part I kept:
Lando’s fingers twitch nervously as he collects his packages, fiddling with the corners and ducking under the tape sealing the flaps shut, but he’s careful not to accidentally open them where anyone can see. It was already embarrassing enough to ask the concierge for them, and he cringed at the heavily branded boxes. The lady probably now thinks he has a secret girlfriend or something.
It’s nice out in Melbourne, and Lando is more than happy to swap the polo and jeans he wore to the paddock for a new purple v-neck that’s so soft and light to the touch it might disintegrate between his fingers and shorts that are just a tad bit shorter than the ones he ran around the city in. He has already been photographed without his shirt within days of arriving, so if he does bump into someone, it shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise.
But it is really just Lando’s luck that he quite literally smacks into his teammate’s back as he rounds the corner.
Oscar straightens with his bucket of ice, blinks at him, and asks, “Where are you going in such a rush?”
Lando folds his arms over his chest.
“Dinner. Not a foreign concept to you, hopefully.”
“‘Course not.” What is a foreign concept is how Oscar’s gaze keeps drifting south, flickering between the plunging neckline of Lando’s shirt and his upper thighs.
Oh, how interesting, he thinks, amused. Out loud, he asks, “Wanna come with? I have no idea which places are trainer-approved.”
It takes a moment for Oscar to shrug and respond, “Sure, why not. Teammate bonding and such, right?”
Lando gasps and plucks the bucket from Oscar’s hands. He pokes Oscar’s shoulder for good measure. “We’re plenty bonded, mate!” Not as much as he’d like, but still. “Just admit that you’re simply leaping at the idea of spending time with me away from the paddock.”
“I’m going to bring you to a seafood restaurant.”
“Aah! No, no, don't do that. I dressed up so pretty, I even shaved, and you’re not ruining my hard work with, eugh, fish.”
Once again, Oscar’s gaze travels over Lando’s figure, and Lando is incredibly delighted to see red tinting his cheeks. He preens a little, which he cannot be blamed for.
It’s so flattering that it more than makes up for Oscar’s simple affirming, “Hm.”
God, Lando would be so over this whole flirting-not-quite-boyfriends thing if it wasn’t so entertaining. He just hopes that Oscar’s patience doesn’t run out before either one of them gives in and just confesses. He also hopes that he isn’t misreading anything either. That would be fucking humiliating.
The little smiles and full-body laughter Lando regularly receives from him keeps him hopeful at best and delusional at worst.
On the way to Oscar’s hotel room, Lando asks what he planned on doing with the ice, and he only receives a shrug and a mumbled, “You never know when you just need a bucket of ice.”
“That’s fair.”
“Speaking of ice, are you going to be cold in just that? It gets cooler in the evenings, and your circulation sucks.”
“A price I’m willing to pay. Have you considered that maybe your circulation is working overtime? That it might be doing too much?” Lando retorts in lieu of admitting that he didn’t actually think that far ahead in his nervous excitement. A green hoodie promptly hits him in the face.
It’s not McLaren merch. It’s OP81 merch, and it smells like Oscar. Lando resists the urge to ball it up and shove his face into it.
“Just hold onto it if you don’t wanna wear it now,” Oscar says before disappearing into the bathroom. He re-emerges in a long-sleeved shirt and trousers that don’t have drawstrings. Lando almost breathes a sigh of relief. Small mercies.
Oscar’s hoodie also ends up being one of those small mercies, and Lando burrows into it comfortably as they take a longer route back to the hotel because the city after dark is nice. Oscar raises an eyebrow at him in his subtly gloating fashion, which Lando ignores in favor of tucking his nose into the collar.
“You look prettier in my hoodie,” Oscar mumbles.
“Huh?”
“Never mind. We’re here anyway.”
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fanofstuff02 · 2 months
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HERE I AM! Here I am with a little writing of mine!
Before we get started, this AU belongs to @woah-why-i-am-here and they have pretty cool drawings about it. GO CHECK IT OUT!
Considering the show itself is 16+, this is aswell, know it then read this, also it has Valentino.
DEAR TUMBLR! PLEASE DONT TAKE THIS DOWN!
A little summary: Adam fell to hell, needed money, and Valentino was the only one hired him. He owned his soul, and it was too late when Adam realized what he agreed to work on. He is one of Valentino’s top whores now. And of course, Adam and Angel met, in fact, more than ‘met’. Their films sure sell a lot. They slowly become friends and Angel convinces Adam to come to the hotel. This is after these happened. Also not shipping Angel x Adam.
ENJOY! (Also since you love holydust @rius-cave , tagging you!)
“And cut!” Valentino said proudly, ending the scene. “One hour break and we’re here till 8!”
Adam panted as he tried to collect his mind. He slowly backed away from the fish demon gal, wore his robes back and got up to go to his dressing room. This was the third demon he was on top of that day, and sure enough she was not gonna be the last. Today was gonna suck. Val was planning to work on eight fucking movies, not to mention six of them were gay and two of them were with Angel. He was glad the one-hour break came.
“Addie~” He heard someone behind him and felt that certain ‘someone’ gripping his shoulders.
Valentino. Awesome. Just who he needed.
He attempted to not show the fear and hatred he felt to his face and mask. Too bad the fucking thing was programmed to show every emotion on his face, and sometimes they didn’t even needed to be on his face, him feeling them was enough. Angel had a -probably true- theory about it, he thought that it was ‘connected’ to his brain when he wore it. Adam was already regretting that he put the “I will only work with a mask” in his contract. He didn’t like the idea of showing his face on films, but this was much worse. He couldn’t fucking took it off till his shift ended!
“Yes, Val?” He asked, trying to avoid the movements he was doing to his chest. Yes, prick? he corrected himself in his brain.
“You were so, so good in the last one, babe” he chuckled.
“Thank you, Valentino.”
“Go ahead. Rest, baby.” He thought he was gonna leave him, but instead, he leaned in and kissed his cheek, completely disgusting the sinner. He didn’t flinch or resist though, he knew what’d happen if he did. “Oh, I can’t wait to see you and Angie on stage together.” he let out another one of his creepy chuckles and finally let the first man go. Adam almost runned to his dressing room, closed the door behind him and threw himself on the couch.
“Fuuck.” He groaned and tried to grab his wine bottle without getting up.
“Adam?” A familiar voice came from outside.
“Door isn’t locked!” He yelled.
“Hey, dickmaster.” A pink spider demon came inside and sat down beside him, tilted his head back and watched as the demon managed to grab the bottle and drank it without standing up, like his life depended on it.
“Y’know you can choke yourself doin’ that, right?”
“Meh, who the fuck cares.” He get up dazedly and looked inside the bottle with one of his eyes.
“I don’t recommend dying on work hours, Val punishes the ones who do.”
“Unholy shit, that actually happened?!” Adam asked, his pupil-les eyes went wide.
“I saw three accidents.” Angel shrugged. “Any left for me?”
“Sorry, I guess that bitch camera guy sneaked up here again and stole my stash.”
“It’s fine. Wanna eat your food? We’re gonna need energy.” Angel asked and took out two containers out of his bag. “I made lasagna yesterday.”
“Oh, you bet I do then.” He smirked and took his own. Angel knew the best ways to make it.
They chatted together until their break ended.
“Adam! Get your ass here or there will be consequences!” A little window appeared in Adam’s mask, almost like a pop-up ad. It was their costume designer. “And bring Angel with you!”
“Fine, fine! Ugh.” He groaned, swiped the page to make it dissapear and get up. “Who’s idea was putting this shit on this again?” He mumbled to himself. “Let’s go cocksucker, we have another job to do.”
HOW IS IT!?
By the way, Adam’s mask in this is practically based on his original mask, a Voxtech product just for Adam. Like Vox’s screen, it’s like a screen-face.
I’ll continue this
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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 4 months
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01/22/2024 Daily Recap
Hey all! It's been a long day huh? I wanna apologize ahead of time, whatever sickness my kiddo had last week finally got me so I'm not feeling terribly well. I'm gonna do my best to articulate todays events for ya!
===Renew As A Crew====
So the very first thing I want to touch on today is updates from @renewasacrew. As you may have heard, they were going to be changing leadership as the shift in priorities changed from renewing to saving OFMD. That being said, the leadership change happened over this weekend with some hiccups (I don't know what the hiccups were entirely and I'm not going to speculate, if you wanna delve down that twitter hole you can, but having been in it for today I'd recommend against it for your mental health, and we don't want to be drawing a bunch of media attention to it) there's a lot of confusing information, and as we know things can get conflated fast if we don't have all the pieces to the puzzle-- let's not speculate and wait for the to come out with more info.
So what I'm focusing on today is @renewasacrew's message to please give them some time and practice some patience while they get back up and running. This also includes anyone you happen to know on twitter working with them, for example: @TheCozyPirate. Let's give them some grace, they've been steering us well so far.
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The good news is, several folks, on tumblr: @iamadequate1, @quirkysubject, @asgardian--angels, On twitter: @havethisonelife @yougotoofast @Lcmwriter100, we have all we need to keep going for a few days while things get ironed out. (If I forgot someone please let me know, sorry I am half awake tonight)-- see the HOW CAN YOU HELP section below.
One thing I will mention-- we are moving so very fast right now. It's only been 13 days since the announcement that OFMD wasn't renewed, and we've accomplished SO MUCH. So when there's a lull, it's going to feel like things are standing still and maybe something is going wrong. Don't fall into despair, that's just how things go with negotiations. Take a break, take a breath, and just keep on Polite Menacing until we hear more from the leadership team.
===How can you help?===
**Go to visit the DAILY RENEWAL TASK LIST there's lots of ideas and ways you can help! Have more? Shoot me a dm! I'm happy to add stuff!**
*Note: To our international fans, I promise I'm working on a write up for you as well I've just been sick today and have been able to finish!*
Something new today-- a lot of you have expressed your desire to help in the @renewasacrew efforts. Well if you did-- and still want to, now you can volunteer! Many thanks to @redshiftsinger for getting this up so quick!
Please visit their survey: Volunteer Intake form and fill out how you may be able to help!
=== Cast and Crew Sightings ===
As if on cue, Chaos dad reached out to everyone on twitter today to express some encouragement!
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He also saw we were at 77K and posted his astonishment!
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Some folks have been a bit weary about his vagueness today, but as we know, Daddy Jenkins is the king of vague-- and he has to be! If there are contracts in the works, he can't be hinting at things. Don't lose hope!
===Samson Kayo ===
Our beloved Oluwande updated his IG with some pictures and a message. If you have IG I'm sure he'd appreciate some love!
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Next up was our favorite Captain, Rhys Darby, promoting a fellow comic @jamesroguecomedy over on IG!
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And our pirate queen Ruibo Qian was making posts about saving ofmd and fanart about Zheng! Featuring folks you probably know around tumblr: @mistysblueboxstuff and @tsutsu_ya over on twitter
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=REMINDER: Cross Fandom Watch Party! on 01/23/2024 1 PM PT, 4PM ET=
Looks like there's gonna be some cross fandom watch parties on twitter you're welcome to tune in for Jan 23-26 on twitter. They'll be watching good omens in an effort to try and get engagement up with PrimeVideo. It sounds like it'll be similar to the LubeAsACrew but with Good Omens fans! Thank you to @Dandeebakes on Twitter for getting these organised!
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Hashtags to use: #PirateOmens #AdoptOurCrew #SaveOFMD, and helps to @PrimeVideo
===Articles===
New article, but take it with a grain of salt, see @TheCozyPirate's message:
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Our Flag Means Death's marketing was concerned about the shock of violence in the show
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Alright lovelies. Here we are again, I told you it'd be quick. Today was very very very busy. Take a break and get some sleep ya? Lean on your crew, we are here to support each other. I'll end with a quote from Tolkien (it being all of us in your crew):
"May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out."
Tonight picture features Taika and his "I love you eyes" at Rhys. Thats me, I'm Taika, I love you all.
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PS: Idk why this isnt showing up in my recaps repository but ill figure it out in the morning.
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fashion4standusers · 10 months
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FFSU’s Fan Fashion Week!
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*ETA: Works posted to AO3 can be tagged as "FFSU Fashion Week"!*
I’ve had the concept for this in my head for AGES but never got around to posting it. I originally planned to run it as an event during a certain time period, but I found that making it an event intimidated me out of actually making the idea happen. I just think that I’m a lot more confident in my ideas when I don’t overthink it! Therefore, instead of running an event, I’m just putting this challenge out into the atmosphere for people to take it and run with it. 
REBLOGS GREATLY APPRECIATED!
Everything you need to know is in the graphics, and here’s a plain text version as well:
Fashion For Stand Users’ Fan Fashion Week Challenge: a 7-day art and/or fic-writing challenge!
Art Prompts:
- Day 1: Runway
Draw your chosen character(s) in an outfit from a designer runway! Check the blog archive or Vogue Runway for references and modify the look however you want.
-Day 2: Subculture
Draw your chosen character(s) in the fashion of a certain subculture: goth, raver, scene kid, etc.
-Day 3: Style Swap
Draw two or more characters swapping their canon outfits, or simply wearing outfits more suited for the other person's vibe and aesthetic.
-Day 4: Historical
Draw your chosen character(s) in the fashion of another era.
-Day 5: Redesign
Redesign, reinvent, or modify the canon outfit(s) of your chosen character(s). 
-Day 6: Formal
Draw your chosen character(s) in gowns, tuxedos, and other fancy clothes. 
-Day 7: Free Space
Draw any kind of outfit(s) you'd like for your chosen character(s)!
Writing Prompts:
- Day 1: Character Study
Write about why a character dresses or looks the way they do. Why do they like the clothes they wear? Do they wear something with personal significance? How do they want the world to see them?
-Day 2: Makeover
Write about a character getting a makeover from another. Are they getting new clothes, a new hairstyle, new makeup? Is it just for fun or a sign of a bigger change?
-Day 3: AU
Write about an alternate universe where the characters are models, fashion designers, hairstylists, makeup artists, etc.
-Day 4: Disaster
Write about something going horribly, horribly wrong: wardrobe malfunctions, makeup mishaps, over/underdressing, etc.
-Day 5: Shopping Trip
Write about characters going shopping together and all the shenanigans that ensue.
-Day 6: The Event
Write about a character getting ready for  or attending an upscale event. Who are they going with? What are they wearing? How are they feeling?
-Day 7: Free Space
Write about any scenario you'd like, as long as it's about clothing or fashion!
Rules:
Have Fun!
This is obviously a JJBA blog, but feel free to use this challenge for OCs and other fandoms! If you plan to modify the prompts, make different graphics, or make your own version of the challenge for a different fandom, be sure to credit this blog or link back to this post!
Mention @fashion4standusers in all your posts to give credit! You can also tag your posts with #ffsufashionweek, and if your work is about JoJo, I would love to share it on the blog. If you post outside of Tumblr, include a link to this post!
Don't think you can do it in a week? Want more time to write longer fics, make more detailed art, or just develop your idea more? No worries, just work at your own pace! The concept of the challenge is a reference to the various Fashion Weeks that happen around the world, but by no means is it restricted to any real time frame!
Only want to write or draw for a few of the prompts? Maybe only one? Wanna work out of order? Go ahead! This is a challenge of course, but if you just aren't connecting with some of the prompts, don't force it!
Feel free to use the ideas you come up with for this into more in-depth works!
It's never too early or too late to give it a shot, and I'll always keep an eye on tags and mentions for new additions!
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thewinchestah · 3 months
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Strawberry Fields (sonhei com campos de morango) - Alastor X Reader fic
Summary: On a dreadful night, Alastor goes to collect one of his contracts. Something goes terribly wrong. He finds you.
Warnings: fem!reader, Human!reader, smut, 18+, period sex, overstimulation, light cannibalism, blood, A LOT OF BLOOD, general creeppiness, Alastor is in hell for a reason, oral sex, alastor kind of hunts reader down, possessive!Alastor
A/N: Soooo!! This was a long time coming but here it is. This idea has been on my mind for a long time now and I wanted to test the waters before i commit to a long fic. I hope you guys like it, i'm kinda on the fence about it. I'm working on the requests and they should be out soon I PROMISEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Also I got a little carried away, i'm sorry. Hope you guys enjoy it. It's always a pleasure to write for you. The visuals and the title for this fic are heavily inspire by this music video. Not the lyrics tho, i always felt like the singer did a poor job with this concept and i wanted to do it justice.
Taglist: @markster666@jyoongim@stygianoir @pepperycookie@fraspent @aether-th3-enby  @lady-valtieri @karolinda007-blog @jesi-pinkman@polytheatrix If the tags aren’t working or you wanna be tagged, let me know.
You curse when another sharp stone cuts your feet.
You regret it a second later when you hear the ominous sounds that reverberate through the trees. They are closing in on you.
You don’t know how you got here, you just know now you are running for your life inside these woods now. The only guiding light, a full moon that looks weirdly otherworldly.
Adrenaline burns inside your bloodstream, the forest seems devoid of any living thing. It’s only you and whoever is chasing you. You wish you could hear gunshots, you wish you could hear screams. Anything besides the occasional twig snap or wind caressing the pine trees’ leaves. The eerie silence is deafening, and worse: the eerie silence makes you even more aware of your situation. 
It’s incredible how everything gets clearer when you’re about to die.
Maybe you shouldn’t have traveled alone, maybe you shouldn’t have decided to go somewhere where the closest thing to civilization is the village’s old-yet-charming dinner. 
You just wanted a little bit of quiet, a place that made introspection inviting. Next time you should go for a beach vacation.
Next time? why does next time sound so… far away? Somehow your feet carry you away from the forest’s well marked path and deeper into the thick vegetation, hiding behind a large tree. You gained a few minutes on them by taking a detour.
Breathe. Remember to breathe.
Right, your mind remembers. You’re being hunted down like prey in the creepy horror film woods, time to focus on surviving again. You can overthink later.
You assess your options: you can keep going into the woods, a deadly game of hide and seek. Zig-zag through the trees, keep them guessing. There’s a good chance you will find wildlife as you go deeper. This could be a problem, it’s too dark to make anything out, an encounter could cause enough of a distraction, you could take advantage of that. Or you could end up mauled. Plus, you are absolutely positive there are bear traps somewhere. If you're gonna die, make your death less dumb. Quite an embarrassing topic of discussion in the afterlife, saying that you died like horror film pretty girls making dumb decisions that you clearly would never make in a situation like that. You just know they are incredible hunters, you need to take them out of their element, expose them.
So yeah, going deeper isn't an option. 
Something catches your eye, there’s a big opening in the thick vegetation, there’s a clearing ahead and… sparks? You definitely see a light. You were told by the locals how the population is scattered across acres and acres of practically untouched wilderness, there’s also the park’s rangers stationed on specific places that grant them a visual advantage in case of emergencies. A big clearing is perfect for that. Maybe, just maybe there’s hope. 
Of course bolting there will make you terribly exposed, they will know your position all the time, and they can still hunt you hidden by the edge of the trail.  Besides there’s no guarantee of what awaits you when you reach the promised land, they could have a partner waiting, there could be nothing at all there. Taking this risk for nothing sounds worse than being lured into a trap. You just have this gut feeling that’s where you should go. Your brain starts to pick the plan apart, this doesn’t sound good. Hesitation can be fatal. But you are all adrenaline and primal flight intistic - 
The decision was made for you, you start running again. Taking advantage of the final stretch of cover you still have until you hit the trail again, you take several deep breaths. Oxygen needs to keep coming, so you can make decisions, so your limbs can respond quickly. Your peripheral catches something that’s also running. It’s a stag.
He’s also prey. He’s an omen. He’s your cue. 
You leap across some fallen branches and your scratched feet land on the main trial. As soon as you complete your first step you hear movement and hurried voices. They are onto you. “What do we say to the good of death? Not today” you give yourself a pep-talk as you keep running. Maybe thinking this is all fiction will help you survive this, detach yourself from the situation, don’t think about the consequences, just act. 
And like that, you don’t stop running. You sing your abcs to focus and stop spiraling. Evolution is truly amazing, the cuts you suffered don’t hurt anymore, precious shooting adrenaline, adrenaline that makes you tunnel vision towards your objective. By now you know where to step, when to dodge, when to slow down and when to go faster. Millennia of sheer force of survival catching up to you.
breathe, remember to breathe.
You inhale a good chunk of oxygen and look ahead. There’s a man on the edge of the tree line and a few meters left. Your mind wants to sing in victory, but you refrain from that, you know better than that it only ends when it’s over-
You’re positively sprinting towards the man right now, like he is your assured salvation. Something inside you screams louder and louder guiding you to him and you follow the sound. 
You hear gunshots. 
So noooooow they bring out the guns? That’s low. 
But that’s a good thing right? If they are shooting they are getting out of time. A single gunshot can take you down and they can smoothly and swiftly carry you away, like it’s a normal hunt. No one will question shooting something they didn’t see getting shot so deep into these woods. But shooting a girl in front of a witness? that’s for amateurs right? So, the man is not a partner you decide. 
remember to breathe, you are not breathing. 
You are so close now, you see an outstretched hand coming your way only a few more steps
breathe. 
You don’t, instead you leap towards your loosely established finish line and take the hand an-
 Dirt greets your face as you fall face first into the trail,  and you crawl like a zombie that just rose from its grave. You have a collection of new cuts and scrapes now, it hurts and you can’t bite your lip to suppress the pain. Still, you intertwine your fingers with his, your other arm aggressively seeking for leverage, clinging to your flesh lifeline. You blur out a bunch of incoherent things as he effortlessly lifts you up  in one swift motion. 
“Get behind me, my dear.” he asks. He has a weird voice almost like it leaves something in the air that caresses your skin, an inviting voice nonetheless. You hide yourself inside the crook of his arm, giving you the ability to witness just a little bit of the action there’s about to happen. You never let go of his hand. Your prince charming feels awfully cold.
Alastor waits, rather impatiently, for his clients to arrive. Making a deal with a human is his ticket topside and Hell is still terribly boring, even with the hotel. The Radio Demon was no stranger to contracts with humans, they were a win-win situation. Those who seek him always have a taste for the wicked and deranged, so it’s easy to figure out what they want and twist it for his own benefit. When they inevitably die, be it death by old age or death by occupational hazard, Alastor gets useful men from the moment they manifest in Hell. They always know exactly where they are and why, they are not confused sinners, petty crime or moral crime sinners. They are, most times, skilled killers who take no trouble doing Alastor’s bidding. An accomplished killer in life makes an even better prolific hellish soldier, someone who will continue indulging in their desires without the constraints of society, but eternally tied down by Alastor’s constraints. With the right incentive, they can rise in the ranks and become treasured resources for the overlord. Plus, the camaraderie isn’t all bad. Takes one to know one, they say.
However, humans these days are getting careless, sloppy. This entire display is proof of that, they should be over to kill and cover their tracks alone. The basics, for hell’s sake. 
 Alastor only takes care of the details. Tampering with some evidence here, getting a victim on the right place at the right time there. The occasional final encouragement to give into the darkness and finally kill, some advice. A self respecting killer should be able to kill and get away with it without the demon’s aid. He’s there for consulting and making sure there are no loose ends. 
But never this. Having to intervene in the middle of a kill because his client made a very very big mess that screams “you’re getting caught!” is below him. Amateurs are not worth Alastor's time.
The two men approach the tree line, clearly worked up from the hunt and shocked to see him there. If Alastor is withholding a victim, something went very, very wrong.
“Good night my good fellows!” the greeting leaves his lips in an overly-chirpy tone. Is that static in his voice?  Radio static? Is that what’s leaving goosebumps on your skin? The stress and the adrenaline are making you imagine things. You took the “pretend this is all a fantasy and you the main character” too seriously. Because now you are hiding behind Darth Vader’s skirts. That’s impossible, right? right?
“Great.” you can see the sarcasm dripping from one of your aggressors. “You’re here to watch?” the question asked all passive aggressive with an edgy tone. That’s definitely a teenager. What the fuck? you were being chased by a high school kid? This is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, how can a teen pull this off? And you almost died? What? Your mind starts spirling. 
Alastor ignores the son, is the father he cares about. They’ve known each other for years now, and he’s underperforming to say the least. He waits for the father to address him, it’s his mess after all. The older man gives his son a stern look and finally breaks the silence. 
“Goodnight. We didn’t expect to see you here tonight, to be honest.’”
 The second voice is much older. That doesn’t quiet your thoughts at all. Is this a cult initiation thing? Hunting girls down like they are prey? WHY DID YOU TRAVEL TO THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE IN THE FIRST PLACE??? OF COURSE THERE WOULD BE CULTS HERE, DUUUUH. IF I WAS IN A CULT THIS WOULD BE THE PERFECT PLACE TO HIDE. There are so many voices screaming inside your head now, you are shivering. With anger, anticipation, fear. Your inner monologue overrides your brain and you are not sure you can cope with everything that’s going on. The voices, all the voices, sound wrong. They land weirdly inside your ear and you need to think hard to understand the words, you know how crucial every piece of information is. They could make all the difference when you talk to the police. They could help a conviction when you are on the stand, giving your official statement. You are surviving this. You are going to watch these fuckers get life in prision or worse.  You are surviving this right? There’s so much you haven’t thought through. Whose hand are you holding again? 
“Oh please. Don’t act all coy now, it doesn’t suit you old friend” Alastor is starting to cross the line from nuisance to anger. He twirls his microphone in annoyance, and makes sure to sink it deep into the moist ground. “Let me remind you about the terms of our agreement. For each 2 kills you make, one soul is mine to take. Or am I wrong?”
“No. You aren’t”. The father answers through gritted teeth.  “But I never thought you would want to collec-” Alastor tilts his head, his grin widens and he snaps “Never thought what? That I would claim what I am owed at my leisure? That I would stop waiting patiently for you, acting at your whim? You earned the privilege of killing unbothered by my vigilance. Because you always delivered your side of the bargain with excellence. I can revoke said privilege whenever I want. Especially after this pitiful performance.” The seasoned killer seems to slightly cower at Alastor’s words. Good. He always regarded the demon without fear or trepidation. His work was meticulous, spotless, basically perfect. And that gave him the justifiable confidence for going toe to toe with the Radio Demon during conversations, a bargaining chip during dealings of his contracts. Few could say that. 
You feel nauseous. Reality is crashing down at you hard and fast. How many people have these people killed? They are trading lives like it is the stock market, and yet you can’t let go of your prince charming’s hand. There’s no rational thought to justify it, actually rational thought is also being slaughtered like a sacrificial lamb tonight, because despite the gigantic red flags you are not letting go of this man’s hands. Everything about him screams danger, everything about him screams your safety. He’s the type of paradoxical that messes with your primal senses, that makes a moth go to the lights that will kill it. 
From the crook of his arm you finally gather the courage to open your eyes. You try to look up to your prince charming, but his face is concealed by the shadows of the night. Actually, everything of importance seems to be conveniently hidden from you. Your aggressor’s faces look distorted, recognizable traits melting together like watercolor painted by 100 shades of darkness, voices and words fuse together creating only cacophony. You hear things, you see things, but you can’t discern them. The three men keep going back and forth, but their conversation seems to dissipate into the air. Everything about this feels like a dream. 
Of course you can’t register anything of importance. Alastor makes sure of it. You are a potential victim after all. A liability, capable of making a positive identification. It’s wishful thinking that someone would take your account of what’s happening on this dreadful night seriously.
 Alastor has no shame in using the prejudices of your world to his advantage. If you were to tell, everyone would make the assumption that you are “just another hysterical woman, thinking too much about folktales”. You had too much to drink, partied too hard. Hallucinogens are a common party drug and this is the result of a bad trip. At worst, “someone tried to spike your drink, but nothing happened. You should be thankful, not getting in the way of important police work”. Alastor also knows that injustice is no real crime, and yet he decided to spare you. It doesn’t feel fair for you to perish in such crude ways, a practice run for a post pubescent, obnoxious serial killer in training. A precious thing like you should be honored, savored. In the odd chance that your voice was heard, the Radio Demon  guarantees that no reliable information will come out of your mouth. His clients might be lacking, but in the dealmaking business your words are your worth and Alastor has a silvertongue. Surely that pretty mouth of yours won’t be a problem. 
“I’m afraid I have to insist, my good friend. The pair of you caused enough damage already with these sloppy, impetuous spree killings. Your law enforcement is already on your scent, tracking the pattern and by the looks of it tonight’s mess will send quite a message. A message that I will have to make sure is delivered faultlessly. I will uphold my hand of the bargain, you will uphold yours. The girl will be spared. There’s plenty of prey out there, plus her death would only act as an aggravation, she’s not your type, and trust me, they will know you made a mistake, you will be exposed.” The Radio Demon’s patience is wearing thin. He shouldn’t have to justify his actions to humans. There’s no compromise to be found here, they went to him and the deal is always on his terms. You squeeze his hand really tight during the discussion of your scheduled demise, like a reminder that you are still there. Still afraid. 
 How cute. Alastor thinks. Your adrenaline is starting to wear off, dissipating into the cool forest breeze and opening space for a strong sense of false security, equally as inebriating. The smell of your sweet fear laced blood is unmistakable, assaulting your savior’s nostrils. Your knees buckle, and you struggle to keep yourself on your feet, clinging to prince charming’s hand for dear life. “Breathe darling, you are forgetting to breathe” He turns quickly towards you, his voice impossibly soft, shooting. You try to look up at charming’s face again, the only new discovery made is that he's awfully tall, and his face is still hidden by opaque darkness. You work really hard on breathing normally again, but you want to keep looking. Their faces are a monstrous distortion, vacant eyes that seem to cry blood. Your entire body tingles, you feel weird goosebumps. It takes all of your willpower to keep standing. You won’t lay yourself at their feat, defeated, like the corpse they would drag from these woods. But you just can’t keep looking, so you shut your eyes and grip the hand that has become your lifeline even tighter.
“You won’t even truly use the bitch, she’s no use for you” The entitled brat opens his mouth again. That’s the trigger.
The Radio Demon grows as tall as the native pine trees, his antlers furiously expanding and casting a shadow so dark over the two serial killers that the moon is completely obstructed. The only source of light in the forest now is the burning red dials of his eyes. The father sees the burning inferno of Alastor’s eyes and for the first time he is speechless. Maybe the realization of where destiny is sending him finally happens. The son sees raw, untamed power for the first time in his life and cowers like a scared puppy. Pathetic. 
“Now let’s get something clear here. I’m only tolerating your insolence because of my decade long relationship with your father.” You shut your eyes harder, your eyelids a shield from whatever is about to happen. Foreboding making the forest air too thick for you to breathe. You finally break down and start crying, too fucking much.  Alastor’s face meets the son on eye level. His teeth are bared, static picks up around the group to the point both men are struggling to breathe. A clawed hand traps the father’s face, a trail of blood dripping from the older serial killer’s cheek.“He’s as close to a professional as our kind gets. Shame the same thing can’t be said about you. This juvenile outburst does not make you more feared nor does it assert your dominance. It displays how weak you are, inept to succeed on this because you can’t keep your entitled demeanor in check. You are not owed anything in this lifestyle, if you want something you need to prove you’re worthy of it by taking it yourself. Whining like a petulant child won’t get you anywhere” You feel dizzy, the earth beneath your feet quakes,  whoever, whatever is holding your hand is sheeting with rage so consuming the ground shakes with the intensity of their emotions.
Alastor’s attention is now focused on the father, the red inferno from his eyes making the man feel genuine fear for the first time in his long, violence-filled life.  “Teach your spawn some manners and proper work, otherwise get him out of my sight. This was a courtesy. Fulfillment failings lead to contract termination, and contract termination means a lot of details appearing. You do not wish to make an enemy of me” Alastor delivers his last threat with a snarl. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the intensity of his words, you feel a powerful rush of wind, leaves ruffling, hurried steps and suddenly the world is at a standstill. The forest seems devoid of life excluding you, your mysterious prince charming and your two aggressors. All of your senses are assaulted with an overwhelming feeling of wrongness… darkness. Darkness that feels like the most luxurious silky dress on your skin, the most intense look of a passionate lover. It feels dangerously alluring and your will power is being gladly tempted by it. 
You feel like you’ve been holding your breath for hours, the rollercoaster of adrenaline inducing hyperventilation and conscious calming breaths making your brain enter some sort of high. Is that what people felt after a battle in ancient times? Is that what It means to stare death in the face and come out victorious? You don’t understand what you are feeling, but when oxygen finally feels normal again, tall, dark and handsome is escorting you deeper into the woods and you don’t even care.
 You’ve just slayed the dragon with your bare hands. You don’t care. You just want to bask on the feeling. To fucking feel. To remind yourself that you are still alive. 
Alastor is drunk on something that he rarely indulges in. Desire. Pure, raw carnality that makes him antagonize one of his greatests clients. Someone Alastor awaited his inevitable death with anxiety and hopefulness, someone he could actually call more than a partner in crime when in hell. A friend. A friendship born from blood and gore but bathed in kinship and inexplicable understanding of one’s dark nature. And the Radio Demon almost killed the man and his useless spawn and fucked everything up because when he saw your running for your life something ignited inside him. When you squeezed his hand so tightly, with such abandon and trust, like he was an Angel sent from heaven to protect you when reality was the most wicked antonym. 
Alastor spared you because you were prey. Beautiful, delicious prey that defied your destiny by accepting the nature of your condition. You didn’t dare to fight, you didn’t dare to think you could stand a chance against your hunters. You just fled. You fled and was perfectly lured into another trap, you doubled the bet when you held his hand and didn’t let go, serving all of your vulnerability on a silver platter to someone you deep down knew was way worse than any serial killer. 
Prey, that will chew its own leg to get out of a trap. Prey, that will offer herself to the most ungodly creature around if it means she can survive a few more moments, just to spite those who started the chase. Prey, that now holds his hand completely carefree and all giggles while she is led to a much more final and insidious type of slaughter. Prey that he was now going to claim.
Your wounded feet start to land on soft squishy things, a familiar scent invades your nostris. From the scent of sweat, blood and gore now to the scent of juicy, plump strawberries. 
“Hey, are we on a strawberry field?” it’s the first time you addressed him directly. You trail behind him, hurried steps crushing the strawberries on your way. You look up and for the first time you can see open skies. “You don’t need to worry my dear, you are perfectly safe now”
Are you? 
You decide that he doesn’t sound like  Darth Vader anymore, his voice is impossibly staticy, it prickles your skin and it feels like goosebumps that accompany butterflies on your stomach. He sounds like someone you would meet at a ball and have a cinderella moment with. The blanket of stars that illuminates the clearing you ferociously fought for grants you a better vision of his figure: scarlet red, snug tailcoat, perfectly tailored. Long legs and trousers that fit like skinny jeans. He dresses like the lead singer from a classic emo band. You can’t say you are complaining, you always loved the idea of a tall dark and handsome prince charming. 
“So, you have some weird friends don’t you?” you ask him. You can hear him chuckle, it is a very pleasant sound. Suddenly the twirls you, a fucking disney princess’ musical number twirl, and you find yourself in front of very big bed. 
With impeccable white sheets, you mind adds. Must be really hard to maintain white sheets in the middle of a strawberry field. Wait, what is a king size bed doing in the middle of th-
“Ah, I don’t really do friends, more like reluctant colleagues” bootleg brandon urie is the melancholic type, then. 
Alastor finally takes a good look at you when you take your seat on the bed with a contented sigh. You look marvelous. Your hair is messy and wild, your cheeks and neck flushed red from the effort. Your eyes big and pliant, waiting for his answers. You look so human, so deliciously alive. He desperately wants to be the cause of your disarray, to make the blood rush to your face under his materfully wicked touch. To feel your pulse fluttering when he touches your neck. 
You still can’t see all of him though. There’s stars, a big full moon whose light outstretches far, bathing the clearing in ethereal silver. The brightest lights cast the darkest shadows, your savior is always in the shadows.
By now you know he is purposefully hiding his identity from you, but you always liked a game.  Plus you don’t really have anything to lose now, you just want to forget everything that happened to you tonight, you just want to inebriate yourself, and charming really looks like someone who could show you a good time.
Either that or you are having a psychotic break after enduring life threatening stress. 
Anyway, you decide to bite. One possible psychotic murder, funny, charming murderer is better than two lukewarm ones.
“Do you always take random women to a creepy bed  with impeccable white sheets in the middle of the woods or am I just special?” not a chuckle now, a laugh. A beautiful, full laugh. The residual static on your skin making you shiver. 
Alastor completely understands what you are trying to do, and it’s truly hilarious. Your petulance and sarcasm towards him means to an end. You’re so precious, talking to him like this, thinking you could take him at his own game. What a beauty! Seeing you think you are succeeding in this only for him to take that conviction away from you at the last minute is going to be so entertaining. He wants you to dig your own grave, lay yourself at his feet.
He doesn’t indulge you, instead he takes a thick, silky strand of your hair and inhales deeply. You smell like sweet innocence and summer. It makes Alastor euphoric. 
His head tilts down as he smells your hair. You don’t that’s creepy, it looks creepy, it sounds creepy, but you feel reverence in his action. 
And then out of the shadows comes a revelation, you see his horns. You suspected his unhumanity, but the confirmation of it knocks the wind out of you. Your eyes widen, you simply cannot make sense of this night, everything feels too surreal and raw reality at the same time, it’s giving you whiplash.
“Are you the devil?” you ask him without much consideration of the weight of this question. You do your best to keep your voice from failing but it’s impossible. You never dropped his hand, in fact you feel like you are permanently attached to him, like a marble statue. Your fingers open and interlock again and again, reflecting your anxiety, but you don’t let go.
You can’t see it, but Alastor’s grin is as big as a cheshire cat’s.
 “Do you seek the devil?” answering a question with a question. Smoke and mirrors. Alastor waits for you to answer, but you don’t. You don’t know what to answer, you try to contemplate if enganding further could mean eternal damnation, or if you are already damned. Is he going to make you an offer you can’t refuse? an offer you aren’t allowed to refuse? Alastor will blame it on lack of patience, but the fact is he can’t wait anymore to taste you, there’s a burning desire inside him, that only gets more and more ferocious as he tastes the inebriating smell of your fear blessing the air he breathes again. 
He removes your interlocking fingers, his hand quickly trapping your tiny wrist inside. You hear heavy breathing. 
“Or do you seek a taste of the forbidden fruit?” The demon licks the long cut across our open palm. His tongue is sensual and cold, the sensation of it slowly dragging across your wounded skin a soothing balm. You moan, he growls. “Forbidden fruit it is.” he announces, delivered like a sentence. 
You are completely free of his touch for the first time since it all began, but it feels like you just suffered an enormous loss. You feel taunted, like someone just dangled a shiny new thing in front of you and took it away. It’s like your entire being has become tunnel vision and you need to get to the bottom of this, whatever this is. Consequences be damned. 
You watch closely as your paranormal paramour moves towards the bed, he is completely concealed by the darkness. Darkness deep and palpable, he morphs within it. The visuals are beautiful, it looks like one of the art’s greatest masters is painting a watercolor in front of you. Darkness from absence of light floating and mixing with otherworldly opaque darkness, flowing like a river. You wonder if it would run through your fingers like water if you touch it. 
Antlers. He has antlers, not horns. 
The not-devil settles himself behind you, back against the headboard. He quickly maneuvers you onto his lap, grabbing you by the waist. You squeal in surprise as more of him touches you, now pressed flush against his hard chest you feel something you shouldn’t be feeling, nonetheless resistance is futile, you spread your legs giving him more access. He has barely touched you, and yet you are completely surrendered to him. 
Alastor wasn’t joking when he established that a woman like you should be savored, slowly consumed so he can extract everything you have to offer. He knows your mind is exhausting itself trying to discern what is happening, how the body and the spirit get more susceptible to succumb to desire after surviving imminent death, and he intends to take full advantage of it. Alastor wants to see you writhe under his touch, pain and pleasure. He wants to torment you and make you pay for existing near him, for making him careless. For making him indulge in carnality and arousal. But mainly, he wants to punish you, because you battled so hard for your survival against them. When you should fear him. 
The Radio Demon touches your neck, exactly where your pulse is, where he can feel your beating heart, full of life pulsing. Life that taunts him and seduces him. The thump thump thump of your heart beneath his fingers like a moth going directly to the light that will kill it. He holds your entire life, your entire existence under his clawed finger, it makes him delirious. 
You feel a sharp sting on your neck, fangs that break your skin and spill your blood, red and ready for his taking. Holding your breath while he sucks the life out of you, your head swims,  and you drown on the feelings. You feel pleasure, forbidden pleasure from having something hurting and feasting on you. 
“If you are not the devil, are you a vampire?” It might be a dumb question, but it’s the logical one. Sometimes the obvious needs to be said.  He laughs again, a full deep laugh,mockery dripping from it.
“Why? If I were a vampire would it make you feel better about spilling your blood for me?” he dodges the question again. Bait and switch. He’s feeding on you and you are enjoying it.. You don’t know what he is, you don’t know his name. It only spurs the burning desire in the pit on your stomach.
Alastor licks the entire length of your neck, his other hand applying light pressure on your pulse point. He bites down on you again, harder, going deeper. You roll your eyes and moan obscenely  as he sucks on it. This is going to leave a mark for sure, but you don’t care, because whatever he’s doing to you feels delirious, it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt. 
Your blood is dripping from Alastor’s lips, he licks it not wanting to waste a drop. He can taste your eagerness, your fear, your essence, your soul. The red liquid is solid proof of how alive and defenseless you are, completely at his mercy. You keep moaning and melting on his lap at his ministrations, a finger starts tracing your arm, feather light touch that leaves you shivering in anticipation. 
He’s gently scratching, teasingly. It’s a claw, you realize. Another part of his unhumanity making you scared and deliciously trembling in anticipation. It’s Alastor’s turn to moan now, his clawed finger comes to torment your clothed nipple, he makes sure to do it tantalizing slow to give you just a taste of what it could be. He wants to hear you ask for it, beg even.
 “I’m afraid I’m way worse than the Devil, little doe” his low, threatening tone makes you close your legs together and rub, desperately seeking friction, some relief. 
“Re–really? You don’t sound that bad” A lie. You just want to say something back.
Your paramour laughs again, he takes your hand in his and starts making his way downwards. 
“How precious are you, lying like that to me” He stops both of your hands on your lower belly, threatening to cross the point of no return. You squeal and struggle on a desperate attempt to raise your hips and get something more, anything.
Delighted in seeing you writhe this badly when he has not even properly touched you, Alastor squeezes your neck tighter, inflicting just enough pain and pressure to make you sing. The Radio Demon finally makes the decision and drops any pretense of moderation, hastily dropping the band of your panties and guiding your joined hands to your slit. “I can taste the fear in your blood, how your sense of pleasure has been forever skewed”.
The two digits tease your entrance that is coated with arousal and something more, his touch is masterful, like he knows the ways of the human body the same way a talented musician knows their way around an instrument. He makes you moan, he makes you sing with only the possibility of his actions. The idea of being taken by something unholy. 
At last, Alastor finally enters your  tight wet pussy, his finger guides yours as he undoes you in ways that should not be allowed. He pumps your cunt mercilessly, gone are the careful, calculated touches, he wants to make you crash and burn as quick as possible, he wants to make you understand that you crossed the most important line of your life. There’s no going back now, your pretty mortal body is forever tainted by unholiness, by his darkness. 
“You spread yourself like this for me, a wanton little thing while I choke and feast on your blood”. Alastor curls the fingers inside you repeatedly making you move your hips in the maniac rhythm he has set. You ride your joined digits, moaning like a whore while your lover’s grip on your throat tightens and releases making your brain short circuits in pure unknown carnal feeling. “You are not the demure, feisty thing like you desperately tried to prove earlier. It only takes the slight touch of something forbidden to make you moan like a common whore” he adds another one of his huge fingers and starts scissoring inside you, the combination of two of his digits and your little one only adds insult to injury. You will never be able to replicate these ministrations, the feeling of being this full and stretched, you had a taste of the forbidden fruit, you are high on it and you will never get another hit on your own. 
Alastor alternates between choking you and curling the fingers inside you, your lightheadedness combined with the assaulting pleasure making you feel feverishly delirious. Your body is hot from desire and adrenaline combined, a starking contrast to your mysterious lover’s touch, ice cold. The two of you distinct seasons, distinct stages of existence mixing together, life and death tethering each other, blurring the lines of worlds that shouldn’t exist together. 
Orgasm building quickly, you grip the white sheets tighter and tighter and tighter but your fingers feel wet, you look down to see a mess of redness leaking from your core. 
Oh fuck, you are on your period. You completely forgot about it. In normal circumstances you would feel mortified about being fingered like this while bleeding, but right now it makes things even more erotic, you’ve learned that your lover may not be a vampire, but he definitely has a thing for blood and something inside you ignites at the idea of letting him feast on your blood, eat you out while you bleed for him. 
Your pussy flutters with the fantasy of that tongue working your pussy and with a particularly harsh pinch on your clit you are off. Waves of pleasure spread across your entire body like wildfire, he chokes you merciless making the urge to scream to the universe how fucking good you feel impossible. You want to scream his name, but you don’t know who he is, what he is. You just want more.  
While you ride the waves of your orgasm unbothered Alastor takes the opportunity to take fingers from your pussy to his mouth, red with blood and slick with arousal, he moans audibly as he tastes you, the most intimate parts of you. Only a little bit of it inebriates him, this is better than 70% of what he does in Hell. This feels better than closing a new deal, watching the princess of Hell fail miserably at rehabilitating sinners. You taste so sweet, so alive and afraid. He’s hard with the conviction of how scared you are, of how he has permanently tainted something so innocent and pure. How you stupidly threw yourself to his mercy. Perishing at the hand of those serial killers is more merciful than him. And now you will know. 
You must have babbled something while you came, about wanting to scream his name and not knowing it, because now you find yourself completely lying down, the bed feels soft like a cloud and you are sprawled like an angel, and he finally reveals something about him of his own volition.
“The name is Alastor, my dear. It has definitely been a pleasure meeting you.” Alastor, now you know, settles himself between your thighs and the pooling redness from your core. You feel him running his claws across the impossibly soft flesh of your inner thighs, you cover your face with your arm.
“Alastor I’ve never… No one has ever…” you trail off, you shouldn’t be embarrassed at this point, but nevertheless you feel your cheeks burning. Is he really going to eat your bloody pussy? fuck.
Alastor’s name on your lips sounds so soft, so pure. He wants to ruin it. He wants to destroy the careful constructed cognitive dissonance that makes you feel safe and comfortable around him. He wants you to be completely afraid and craving being scared of him, disrupting your sense of pleasure so he can ruin you completely, getting you hooked on him and delirious for more, willing to do anything for another taste of the forbidden fruit.
So, he makes you look.
“Look at me” you don’t want to. You feel a lot of things right now, but mainly you feel as if you really take a look at your dark lover tragedy is going to happen. Eros and psyche all over again, but bloodier. 
He claws your thighs, you hiss at the delicious pain, but still disobey him. 
“Look. At. Me” he snarls, definitely a threat. You feel yourself getting wetter. 
Alastor slaps your ass, hard. He’s losing patience, his temper turning quick at the realization that you not knowing who he is isn’t a perfect plan.
You moan from the pain, from the sting. It feels wickedly erotic. You almost want him to hit you again. Since when pain felt so fucking good?
So you do, you finally look at him. 
Red. The first thing that your brain fixates on is how much red there is. Scarlet red hair, red blood running down your core and staining the white sheets. Red claws that pierce your skin. 
Red eyes. Burning red eyes that entrap you. It’s like you can see the blazing fire that tortures the damned inside those eyes. 
If this is why people fall from grace, you totally understand the appeal now.
The second thing, the thing that makes you transfixed at the sight of him is how wrong he looks. His antlers are beautiful, growing from his scarlet hair beautifully adorning ears that look extremely soft, non-threatening, like a crown. His eyes are big and sharp, close together 
while he stares at your soul, eyes of a predator in the middle of softness of prey. His grin is completely predatory, dangerous, sharp teeth that hurt and maul, but at the same time bite you just the right way to make you moan in raw carnality. The skin is pale, not in a michael-jackson-thriller-way but in an ethereal way. His voice is static that seems to tickle your skin, sometimes more than others. He’s paradoxical, everything you should be afraid of and the comfort you should seek at the same time. A force you shouldn’t meddle with. Primal and raw. 
You may not know what exactly he is, but one thing is certain: he’s dangerously alluring, and you completely fell into his trap. But it hardly matters anymore, because he is about to drink blood from your pussy with that marvelous silvertongue of his.
“Fucking beautiful” you blur out, not realising he’s going to hear you.
One of Alastor’s eyebrows shoots up. He’s not regarded as beautiful often. Alluring, maybe. 
He wants to make you pay for all the soft ideas you have about him.
You soon learn how hard it is to hold the gaze of your lover’s eyes, his burning red irises entrap you. It's impossible to look away but overwhelming to stare into. 
“If all the mortal men you’ve been with are weak and pathetic enough to decline the dark gift of your bleeding cunt, then I’m honored to be your first” and without much more warning you feel a delicious cold tongue licking your entrance and you are off
 Alastor isn’t eating you out, he’s feasting on you like you are his last chance of salvation. His face is completely buried deep in between your legs as his tongue assaults you at a merciless pace. He makes sure not to waste a drop of anything your gushing pussy gives him. His tongue enters you and the contrast between your tight heat and his coldness makes you delirious. Exquisite carnal pleasure, you could cum from it alone.
Alastor is having a hard time navigating this double edged knife: you don’t know who he is what is capable of, which means your aren’t near as scared of being this vulnerable with him as you should be, a literal cannibal delighting in your soft flesh, drinking the warmth of your sacred blood. You must taste delicious terrified. But the silver lining is that the fear he inspires would make any woman who knows more compliant to this, even offering this to him freely. You have no idea about his exploits, he can and he will tarnish you with all of his unholy darkness, wrecking your world during the eleventh hour when you realize what you’ve done, who you’ve so easily corrupted your morals and your spirit for. You’re so beautiful, so naive, so trusting, so alive. You moan “Alastor, Alastor, Alastor” soft ohhhs and aaaahs as he polishes your cunt, every sound you make, every twitch of your legs and roll of your lips reminding your ungodly lover of how delicate and rare you are, aiding him on his mission. Gripping the sheets isn’t enough anymore, you instinctively place your hands on his antlers, the texture indescribable. Again, the contradiction of the softness of his velvet and the sharpness of his teeth, wickedness of his tongue giving you whiplash. You start rubbing them furiously, trying to mirror his ministries on your swollen folds. It definitely is doing something to him because he drags his teeth along your inner tie, breaking more skin, drawing more blood, hissing. You scream at the heavenly pain mixed with unholy pleasure.
Normally, Alastor wouldn’t let anyone near his antlers, arguably the most sensitive part of his body. If worked right, the sensations take him to another level of desire, insane carnality. But you taste so sweet, rich blood mixed with erotic arousal on a soft flesh platter, he consumes your innocence as he coaxes another orgasm from you. You hold on to dear life on his antlers, his velvet shedding and bloodying your hands, running through adding to the painting of reds that connects you two. Something ignites on you and it’s the most intense orgasm of your life, you feel every nerve burning from everlasting fire, that transforms and transforms until it explodes in a supernova. You don’t have the strength to scream, so you whisper Alastor’s name like a filthy prayer. 
He looks up grinning like a devil. Something makes you open your eyes as you ride out the waves of pleasure. There’s so much blood, blood dripping from his lips, blood on his nose, blood cascading down his bewitching face mixing in a flowing current of red, it ends in a glistening red pool where you meet each other in immoral sin, so inviting you could jump in. It’s like what would happen if the killers had caught you, but twisted into wicked, ungodly pleasure, it’s almost worse. Because well, if you’re killed you’d be dead and would never have experienced this, but now you have and the ephemerality of this night crashes on you and you feel conned, betrayed. 
 He licks his lips and stares right at you, a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes, you almost cum again. 
Alastor feels delirious from the bloody mess in front of him, carnality so powerful it makes him insane, he needs to finish this. He needs to sink his cook deep into your slick cunt. Pushing himself up, he starts to position his cock on your entrance. He’s so tall, the shadows of his bloodied antlers cover you and hide the welcoming silver lighting of the moon. The stars look so different today, and the welcoming sight of a full moon looks merciless, devoid of warmth and hope.
“Women like you are not meant for mortal men. They cannot honor you, they cannot savor you, they cannot satisfy you. Once you take a bite of the forbidden fruit you understand your place. Pliant and submissive beneath me. To be ravished and tamed by something beyond puny mortality. You are made to me fucked, to be owned by the better man who defied destiny and transcended what the hands of fate enforced on him. You are Helen of Troy, tailor made to fit my cock, satisfy my thirst”
He teases your entrance with just the tip, making you greedly roll your hips towards him, a primal response to the ravishing words. Alastor laughs mockling at you attempt of getting him to fuck you on your terms, your time. You may not be aware of everything but by now you know you can’t outfox and fox on his own game. 
“please. please. PLEASE” you scream the last word, you can’t take it anymore. A second without him touching your body feels like an eternity. 
“Tsk. You look so pretty when you beg” the condescending compliment lands like music on your ears and he finally enters you. Inch after inch he spreads your tight walls open, practically breaking you. You understand now why people in times before yours had sex after battle. It’s the most rare and coveted feeling in existence, to greet imminent death, escape her fatal calling and then do the thing that undoubtedly proves you are alive. Only to meet her again at the finish line of carnal sensations and no rational thought. Primal need to feel, to live.
Alastor finally bottoms out with an animalistic growl, making your shiver under him. He fucks you at a merciless pace, he fucks you with haste, with urgency and abandon. He knows what he needs and he is going to take it. 
“Hoooooly FUCK Alastor” you scream. 
“There’s nothing holy here. Everything that’s holy has abandoned you. There’s only me, your wicked god who has you completely at his mercy, to fuck, to break” he takes it all out and enters you at once. You try so bad to look at him, to hold his piercing gaze with adamantine conviction but you can’t. It’s too much, overstimulation creeps on you and everything hurts. You shut your eyes. 
“Look at me. Fucking look at me or I will stop” it’s not an order, it’s a threat. You should be scared, you feel scared, but tonight fear is diesel to your desire, and the pain makes you enter a mind numbing stage. The lines of torture and relief blurring together until you can’t discern a thing, you feel. 
You do as you’re told. You look at him as he fucks you, thrusting like a mad man, obscene sounds reverberating throughout, you are being so loud you are sure they can hear you back on the village. The village, your cabin. You had a life before tonight. Will there be life after tonight?
You don’t have time to have an existential crisis because what Alastor does next gets your undivided attention. 
“You will look at the demon who is ruining you, fucking you. You are no immaculate maiden anymore. You are a common whore for the Radio Demon” your eyes widen at the revelation. He is not a vampire, he’s not the devil. The fact that he is a demon and not satan makes you even more mortified, like you’ve settled for less. Just a little demon is what it takes to completely undo you. 
Alastor keeps thrusting at a breakneck pace, feeling vindicated. He did exactly what he said he would do, he took the last fiber of comfort, of dignity away from you. He can see your  entire world shattering on your beautiful doe eyes, making you finally feel the right amount of horror on the edge of a rapturous orgasm. 
You feel true terror now, there was still a slimmer hope that he wasn’ evil incarnated, that he had a redeeming quality. After all, he saved you. Didn’t he save you? Or did you start something you are not even close to understanding? You feel terrified because there’s a demon fucking you, biting you, feasting on your blood and you fucking love it, you want it every night. You really took a bite from the forbidden fruit and ruined yourself.
“It’s too much, Alastor I can’t” the words leave your lips and feel like confession, like somehow if you admit your complete surrender it will absolve you of something.
“Too. Bad.” Alastor punctuates his point with delicious sharp trust after each word. He finally tainted you with his darkness and made you aware of it. He feels delirious, he feels like victory incarnated. Your moans grow louder and louder, now pleasure means pain, hell means rapture. Things that should not exist together making you feel the best you have ever felt. Tears spill from your eyes, the overstimulation something you’ve never felt before, mind numbing and life-altering.
In an act of paradoxical mercy, your demon lover rubs your clit and you’re out like a light. Your walls tighten around Alastor’s cock, and white hot pain, blinding red pleasure overcomes you. You feel like falling, you feel your literal fall from grace as your body tingles and burns with ineffable, forbidden pleasure. Alastor howls and cums inside you. 
You land on silky, comfortable, alluring darkness. 
-
The cool forest breeze greets your abused skin, it stings but feels soothing at the same time. Paradoxical, like everything from this night. Alastor holds you tight, cradling your head on his chest, petting your hair. He draws lazy circles on your hip bone, featherlight touch, careful and coy. You turn on your side to face him.
“Can you see it now? It’s beautiful, he’s so beautiful” your mind asks you. You agree.
You start giggling, laughing. It is also so funny.
“What’s so funny, little doe?” Alastor asks you, genuinely amused. He feels elated from this night. He feels satiated, contented. It’s a very rare feeling for him. 
“For a while I seriously considered you are an alien” you tell him, you can’t contain your laughter now. You are so silly. Alastor’s eyebrow shoots up, quizzical. He chuckles and indulges you. “Alien, is so mundane. You could never be an Alien, it’s way too easy”. What your giddy minds means is that now you know Alastor is anything but easy, actually there’s nothing like him. He’s something else. Something entirely different, a delicious mystery that creeps inside your heart, haunts you forever. 
You stop laughing when realization hits you.
“Will I ever see you again, Alastor?” you ask him, your voice failing, nothing more than a whisper. You feel the ephemerality of this night, you feel daylight closing, ruthless sun rising that ends this everlasting dream. 
Alastor stares deeply into your eyes, he sees your wanton desire, your trepidant expectations. “That depends entirely on you, my dear doe. It’s time to make a decision.” his voice is so soft it fucking hurts. 
You look at the fading moon on the horizon, the distant stars judge you, the earliest of birds sing for you. 
Yet from those starts, no light but rather, darkness visible.
-
You open your eyes, you feel impossibly rested. Your bed feels soft and you want to visit dreamland again, but the noise stops you.
Songbirds and blazing sirens mix together a cacophony of urgency. You get up fast, trying to remember little bits and pieces of the crazy dream you had and run to the big window across the room. 
You look down, you see ambulances, police cars, lab coats and tall guys in FBI jackets.
Something definitely happened here last night.
 That explains it then, the nature of your murderous dreams. The sirens creeped their way into your subconscious making that murderous, dreadful dream. You take a quick look and your hands and see nothing. Perfect, unblemished skin. 
It felt so real. Strawberry fields and blood. 
Your neighbor from across the street gestures manically at you from her window. 
Fuck, it must have been really bad. There’s a lot of people at your doorstep. 
Hurrying to put your robe on, you fly down the stairs towards the bustling crowd outside. 
You are dying to know what happened. You were always a vivid dreamer.
You reach the hall and open the door, a polite officer starts talking to you.
You don’t notice the old radio on your vanity, or the opaque darkness that followed you from the corner of your room to the world outside.
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