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star-crossed-sluts · 3 months

Note

I saw that you write for so many of my favorite fictional men and wanted to request something for Venom or Lucifer x fem Reader involving Micro/Macro and Toys if possible ^^

Unfortunately, I realized after receiving this that micro/macro is different from size kink and I'd put the wrong one on my list, but I took the chance to write the sappy, filthy Venom fic I've always wanted to <3

I'd also like to note reader is described as soft and plush, but also drowning in Eddie's shirt. This is not meant to alienate any particular body type, I simply choose to write Eddie Brock as the broadest mfer who needs shirts with multiple X's on the tag to accommodate his beefy shoulders.

Contents: 4.8k words, female reader, chubby reader coded, playful banter, monstrous tongue and penis, oral sex (fem receiving), clit pinching, size kink, kitchen counter sex, I love you's exchanged, tentacles, multiple arms, poly issues, healthy discussion of feelings after sex, multiple orgasms (fem receiving), coming inside, breeding kink, doggy style sex, aftercare, talk of proper after sex peeing, talk of UTIs, post-coitus cuddles

Minors DNI

You are responsible for your own media consumption

“You’re wearing our shirt.”

The plural pronoun sends a shiver down your spine despite the wet summer heat invading the apartment. Thick fingers run down your exposed neck and across your shoulder. “Yes,” you say, even though it wasn’t a question. You glance back just to be sure and see Eddie staring down at you. “It’s too hot.” It’s a warning as much as a complaint. It’s too hot to do anything.

“Poor little one.” The voice coming from your boyfriend’s lips wasn’t his, but it made your core throb all the same. “Precious thing doesn’t deserve to suffer.”

“No,” Eddie agreed. His hands rub firm lines down your arms and over your waist, playing with the excess fabric his shirt drowned you in. “No, my sweet-”

“Our!”

He huffed, face falling to the crook of your neck, arms wrapping tight like a band around your waist. Despite your urge to smother this frisky mood, you couldn't not comfort your love, fingers threading through his short hair. Hot breath washed over the tender skin, dull teeth scraping against you.

“I had you first.”

You pulled him off your neck, pressing your lips to his. His moans rumbled through you, mouth opening, practically begging for your tongue, but you pulled him back off.

“Of course you did, baby.” You could see him bristle, knowing Venom was surely making his displeasure known, and pulled him back in. Eddie dove eagerly for your lips, but you pressed him back, hands on his shoulders trailing down his chest as you nudged his nose with yours. “You two ever going to get along?”

“Yes,”

“No,”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” you giggled out, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. Before, that would settle him. Nights when you both knew he needed to be at the office in six hours but still got lost in each other, you would force yourself to be the responsible one. Tongues lapping behind teeth became soft and slow kisses that often missed, grazing the stubble on his chin or dancing across his eyelids. Your hands rubbing over his chest would settle him, leaving him limp under your touch as you worked out his trouble spots.

That was before the equivalent of a 21-year-old on Viagra was piggybacking in his body.

He picked you up like it was nothing, fingers cold on your bare hip where they sank into the plush fat, swallowing your squeak as he placed you on the counter.

“Sweetheart,”

You knew that voice. Even half garbled with another man’s, you knew that voice.

“Baby, I'm so hot,” you pleaded, even as your nails raked down the back of his neck to make him purr against you.

“Yes, you are,”

Ah, fuck it.

“Shirt,” you demanded, tugging at his collar. His desperate scramble to get it off made your lips curl against his, lapping your tongue into his mouth to make it even harder on him: to hear him groan like you were hurting him.

He had to pull away to get the fabric over his head. When he pushed back in half a second later, his tongue hit the back of your throat.

They practically dripped saliva down your throat, swallowing every sound you made as you choked on their thick tongue. Your boyfriend’s lips were suddenly cold and slick against your own, his hands bigger and sending chills through your overheated body as they felt their way up your shirt. Growls poured into your mouth, big palms finding your bare tits - cupping reverently, letting the soft fat fill their palms, lifting them off your chest.

“Sweet girl pretends not to want us,” they muttered, pulling their tongue from your throat to taste the sweat beading down your neck, letting you pant into the hot apartment, trying to calm your pulse as it throbbed against their tongue. “But you strut around naked under our shirt?”

You took their wrist in response, dragging their thick fingers down, down, over your soft stomach - having to tug them along as they tried to follow your stretch marks instead - until they found their way between your wet folds. You let a smug grin spread your lips, even if the noise rumbling out of them said you’d pay for it. “I always want you,” you admitted, sighing at the soft pleasure as those slick fingers pet over your puffy folds. “I’m just an adult who can manage myself.”

Eddie came back to you, performing a scorned boyfriend with a dramatic gasp. “How dare you,” he accused, nipping at your plush bottom lip. “I manage myself just fine.”

“Yeah, I can see-” You squealed, high-pitched and mortifying and totally not your fault since he’s the bastard that pinched your poor clit. Your fist came down on his shoulder. “Asshole!”

“Hey, Vee did it!”

“Did not!”

“Oh, you’re such a little-”

“Lord,” you griped, pushing his hand away. Two distinct voices whimpered at the loss, the black slime-like substance that made Venom’s body swirling over Ed’s as they fought each other for control, Eddie’s eyes flashing white then back to your beloved bluish gray. “All right,” you decided finally. “You two need to learn to cooperate before someone gets caught in the middle! I’ve got too many sensitive squishy bits to let you past second base if you’re going to get pissy in the middle of things.”

Oh. Oh. Oh, you may have fucked up. You could practically see the will to live evaporate off both of them at the mere prospect of a world without your body. Venom’s goo turned watery, nearly dripping off of Eddie’s skin - as if he wanted to make sure you knew just how heartbroken you’d made him. And Eddie! Your poor boyfriend’s perfected the sad puppy look, big glossy eyes and a desperate rasp to every breath.

Damn it, why does he look so hot when he’s pathetic?

“You know I’d never let anything happen to you, sweetheart,” he stressed, nudging his nose against yours - a meek attempt to get you to forget anything that didn’t involve him being buried in your thighs.

“I’d eat every soul on this pathetic planet before bringing you anything but pleasure.”

“Very romantic, both of you,” you assured, carding your fingers through Eddie’s hair. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, you gently stroked Venom where he was bubbling to the surface on your boyfriend’s cheek. Both men leaned into your touch, nestling into your palm like it was home. You gently guided them back to your lips, laying soft kisses over their face. “Can you be good for me?”

“Mmm, I can be so good to you, sweetheart, you know I can.”

An eager grin spread from their lips to yours, sharing a wet kiss before you tapped their shoulders, nudging them down. “Show me?”

You may as well have offered them the world. In a way, you have: you’ve offered yourself. They gladly dropped to their knees, open-mouthed kisses pressed to your inner thighs, climbing higher and higher as you spread your legs for them. Neither was one to tease, and it was barely a beat before you had to brace your hands on the countertop behind you as their long, slick tongue lapped between your folds.

“So sweet,” they mumbled against your lips, easing their tongue into your pussy to lap at your inner walls. “Can we make you come, baby? Can you take several tonight?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but a soft suckle to your clit pulled a moan from your throat before you could get a word out. “Haa- several?” A deep growl rolled through their tongue inside you, curling to press on the spot Eddie knew by heart and Venom diligently took note of, working the thick muscle in your cunt. “Hey, I didn’t-” Their thumb - coated by Venom to ensure a slick glide - strummed your clit in soft circles. “Ah, fuck, Eds! Yes, I can take it!” One hand snapped to their head, fingers sinking into the soft locks to force them still as you rocked your hips against their face.

Normally, you wouldn’t consider yourself easy to please. Months of slow exploratory sex finally led to Eddie knowing how to bring you to the edge better than yourself.

Normally, your boyfriend’s tongue wasn’t nine inches and dripping thick spit, making a mess of your poor cunt he’d started fucking open on his tongue.

“Such a good pet for us,” they purred without moving their lips, Venom’s voice becoming more dominant. If you pried your eyes open, you could see him slowly hiding away the pale skin of your boyfriend: half his burly chest jet black and gaining bulk with every second. Their tongue and fingers faltered, and you watched their brows furrow.

“Be nice,” you reminded, but they didn’t pay you attention until you yanked on Eddie’s hair. “Boys,” you drawled, pulling your shirt over your head. Their movements immediately turned lazy: thumb falling short of your pearl, tongue slowing to soft laps at your walls as they practically gave you heart eyes. “Gotta be good.”

“We’re good,” they swore, even as Venom reached out with thin tendrils to pluck your nipples into peaks. “Just need our sweet girl to come on our tongue. And our fingers, and our cock-”

“So needy,” you teased, stroking down their sharp nose.

Maybe it was mean to tease your boyfriend so much. Maybe the alien cohabitating his body has a shorter fuse than Eddie. Maybe they were both so wound up from seeing you in Eddie’s shirt, sweat dotting your brow, the cusp of your ass peeking at them whenever you lifted your arms.

Maybe you should’ve thought of this before you were laid out across the counter.

Their tongue dove deeper into your cunt until you thought you couldn’t take anymore, then curled around and came back, double-stuffing your poor cunt to the brim, folds sticking together with your own slick and their spit. Their thumb on your clit became two thick fingers rolling the poor bud between them, pinching meanly at every squirm you gave - doing the same to your nipples as they slowly turned red under their touch.

“Cruel precious!” Your back arched off the countertop, scrambling for anything to hold onto as they started fucking you on their giant tongue. Sloppy, wet sounds of sex filled the kitchen, a burning heat crawling up your neck as they shamelessly worked you over, collecting your ankles in one hand to fold you in half. The burn in your thighs was nothing compared to the wave of pleasure every pinch, every thrust, every strum of your clit brought crashing over your body. It felt like you were getting your pussy stretched - guts rearranged - by the biggest cock on Earth, except a cock doesn’t lick and suck and roll inside you.

“Pretty thing always loves to tease,” they grumbled against you, their voice vibrating through your skull, filling your head with their words, making it the only thing on your mind besides the need to come. “Acting like you aren’t desperate for us.”

“Fuck, Eds-” A sharp pinch to your clit, the flat faces of even sharper teeth pressing warnings against your inner thighs. “Venom!” They rewarded you: a deep, pleased rumble running up your spine as the pointed tip of their tongue rubbed shapes into your g-spot. They let you writhe and buck against their face, tongue easily keeping you filled wherever you go. Your lungs were full of fire, sweat-slicked palms sliding on the counter as you tried not to fall completely onto their shoulders. “Please, Venom,” you whined, “make me come! You’re both so good to me! Don’t you want me to feel good?”

Oh, the guilt trip worked every time. Won’t you make me feel good? Don’t I deserve it? No matter how you dished it out, the result was the same. They melted under you - literally, in this instance, Venom dripping off Eddie’s arms - tongue working harder inside of you, pushing deeper, fingers rolling over your poor bud. Venom’s cruel pinching all over your breasts became a more loving caress, slick tendrils swiping over your stiff peaks like soft kitten licks.

“Want to make you come,” they rumbled, eating your cunt like it would be their last meal. “Always look so beautiful when you come. We'd be so happy to have you on our face all night.”

You could feel every nerve screwing up tighter and tighter as they worked you up, your body falling limp in their hold as they carried you over the edge. “Oooh, that sounds so nice, baby,” you breathed as you came back down. You reached out, a greedy smile pulling on your lips when their fingers laced with yours without a thought: your cutthroat journalist boyfriend and his brain-eating alien alike putty in your presence. On their knees to worship your body, eager to hold your hand at the slightest sign that you’d allow it. It made the words fall from your lips that much easier. “But I think if you don’t take me to bed this second, I’ll smother you.”

“Win-win,” they purred before they hurled you over their shoulder. “You should sit on our tongue after we fuck you.”

“Vee, I plan on being comatose after this.”

“That is acceptable as well,” they decided. Hands as large as your torso lowered you gently to the bed, arranging you on your hands and knees carefully - like a porcelain doll settled into her new home on the shelf. “Precious one?”

You gushed, chest swelling, lips spreading wide as your smile took over your whole face, fingers dancing across the sheets until their thick ones intertwined with yours. “Mmm, yes, my love?”

A deep purr rumbled from the barrel chest against your back, long tongue curling along your jaw as they formed their body to yours. Their wine-bottle thick cock spread your folds, rutting against your clit, letting you soak them in a vain attempt to make the entrance easier. “How do you want us?”

Fingers wrapped through yours, palms to the backs of your hands, chest to your back - they had you completely surrounded, encased in them. You turned your head, kissing their arm. “Take me,”

Your boyfriend was by no means a small man. Eddie’s always been broad. Thick arms, thick thighs, and a lovely thick cock that spread you like it was your first together all over again.

Venom’s weeping tip struggled to press past your lips. It took a few tries - a few, bullying thrusts - to fit the fat head into your cunt. The rest of their shaft went smoother, his hips rocking back and forth, fitting just a bit more into you each time as your slick covered them. Stretching your walls around their huge cock, head battering your insides as they stubbornly refused to let your body take anything less than all of them. It felt like Venom was purposely swelling his slick skin, just to make sure every sensitive nerve got some love - just to hear the breathless moans drip out of you like the sweetest nectar.

“Ours,” they gushed, hips beginning to properly piston into you, bouncing off your ass. Fingers occupied with yours, thin tendrils pulled off their torso and wrapped around your body, lifting you until your dangling fingertips barely brushed the sheets, pulled into Venom’s malleable chest like a waterbed. You’re sure they’d wrap completely around you if you’d allow it: envelop you completely, keep you so close there was no firm line separating your bodies.

Their tongue sank past your lips as if hearing you and agreeing, licking their way to the back of your throat. “Our pretty darling’s so sweet,” they purred, pressing their cock so deep inside you you thought they must be licking their own leaking slit inside you. “Should wear our shirt all the time: let us lick you up whenever we want.”

Your throat pulsed on their tongue as it slithered out, licking their own drool off your chin as you panted breathlessly. “You… haa… you both want to do that all the time, though.”

Their chest rumbled against your back with laughter at your expense, tendrils pulling you impossibly closer and splitting apart to tenderly stroke your clit and nipples. The steady thrum of another orgasm building ran through your nerves like electricity, but beyond that, a smile grew on your face. Because even with an alien tagging along, your boyfriend can’t leave an inch of your body untouched when he fucks you. He’s insatiable enough when he’s bound by anatomy, always kissing up your neck and rubbing your soft waist when he’s rocking his hips into yours - it only got worse when Venom got the green light to join in. Suddenly Eddie had a dozen hands, reaching everywhere to touch everything, almost as if it was for his pleasure instead of yours. Almost as if he wouldn’t - or couldn’t - come without your tits filling his palms and your gummy walls sucking on his cock.

“Can’t be helped,” they purred into your neck as your walls fluttered around them. Their hips stuttered against yours, pace changing to something slow and hard, dragging their fat cock against every nerve, punching their mushroomed tip to your cervix to try to force a path deeper into you. Their shoved their tongue back down your throat the second you opened your mouth to cry out, swallowing your moans before they even left your lips. “Such a pretty thing should always have her pussy filled. Lips kissed, hands held, fucked so dumb she goes limp on our cock-”

“‘Ee,” you struggled through their tongue and your own delirium, gasping for air when they pulled it out of your throat. “Vee,” you moaned, lightning running through your veins as your walls fluttered around them. You could hear the wet squelch that accompanied every trust, feel the creamy slick gathering at their base and running down your thighs, sticking to theirs with every solid connection their hips made against you.

“Yes, little one,” they cooed, nuzzling against the side of your head. Their hips hammered into you, efforts on your clit doubling as your whole body started to quiver so cutely in their arms. “Tell us what you need to come. We’ll give you anything, love, just tell us-”

“Kiss.” A heat washed over your cheeks and down your neck, but you persisted. “Eddie… kiss!” A sob fell from your lips when they remained poor and alone, throwing your hips back on his. “Eddie, please! Vee, give me my boyfriend!” Your dangling feet kicked through the air as the silence stretched, small growls traded back and forth in the same voice as the two argued with that special connection that only the two of them shared. The thought spurred you further, shaking your hands intertwined with theirs. “Baby, please!”

A slick noise, like tentacles separating, and the scruff of Eddie’s stubble raked deliciously against your neck, lips kissing up to your jaw just to tease you further. A desperate whine from your lips, and he finally caved, licking into your mouth like he could devour you entirely. His lips felt like home, washing over you so warm and soft even as he pounded into your sopping pussy - but then again, that was home to him. Fucking your soft body until you were limp and pliant for him, your usual banter dying on the tip of your tongue.

“Gonna come, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, flicking his chin to bump his nose with yours just to make you smile and giggle against him. “Gotta tell me-”

“Inside.” He started to smile, a laugh building in his chest as you freed one hand to weakly smack him for it. “I swear, Eddie, if you think about pulling out-”

“I know,” he soothed, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek as he chased his orgasm, Venom dutifully working your body to bring you yours, too. “I know, baby, you just wanna get filled up, yeah? ‘S why you need both of us, huh? You need us to fuck up your pussy ‘til you’re sore an’ swollen an’ fill you up with our cum?” Barely a beat before his fingers snatched the column of your neck, wrenching your head back against his shoulder. Your back arched with a deep groan, eyes going all misty as they pounded into you. “Tell me,” Eddie commanded, voice deceptively soft and sweet, like he was merely asking you for his morning I love you. “Gotta tell me how much you want it, or I’ll stop.”

“NO!”

Eddie groaned, rolling his eyes. “Fucking parasite doesn’t know how to talk dirty.” Another kiss to your cheek, his little grounding method: his assurance that his love for you can be chaste, too. “Teach him, baby?”

You kissed him back, lips dragging over his rough stubble. “Fill me up, handsome,” you nearly whispered, voice beginning to crack as he skillfully worked your body over. “Wanna feel you come inside me. Please?” A breath where you regained enough sense to question your words. Another and it was gone again. “Want a chubby baby with your eyes…”

Hands were suddenly everywhere. Two with a painful grip on your tits, kneading the soft fat. One on your hip and one with a handful of your stomach, both maneuvering your hips back as they thrust in, letting their fat cock breach further inside you than anything else ever has or will. On your neck, your clit, and your thighs, all groping and tugging and rubbing fast circles. You’re suddenly ass over head bent over, sheets getting caught in your mouth as they jackhammered into your poor, sopping cunt, thick cock pulsing maddeningly inside you.

“Precious little one wants to be BRED,” Venom hissed; terribly, awfully pleased as he overpowered Eddie to pound you the way you needed - the way your sweet boyfriend could never, for fear of hurting you. Venom had no such worries: you were a big girl, and if you wanted to get fucked and filled until his cum drips out of your folds, well, who was he to deny such a lovely creature? “Breathe, precious,” he coaxed, making another hand from his slick body to press your face further into the sheets. “Gonna give you everything you want,”

Moans died in your throat as they manhandled you into a deep arch, thick cock reaching even deeper without having to fight past the bulk of your ass, pussy practically on display for them to play with. God, you loved it.

Your orgasm hit like a brick wall, crashing over you, making you crumble in their arms. Their grip (all 12 of them) turned soft - tender, loving circles rubbed into your lax muscles, turning you into a pretty pile of twitching jello on the bed. They eased your hips down, letting you lay flat as they worked you through the high, hips pumping into yours at a steady beat. By the time they stilled, groaning low into your hair as they emptied their balls into you, your heart was pumping at that pace.

You smile when Eddie’s hands grab you, keeping you pressed firmly against his bare chest as he carefully rolled you both to your sides. Kisses pressed to your temple and soft cheeks between murmured praises. Whispers of my sweetheart, y’did so good, so gorgeous, filled the bedroom like a fog, rolling over your body like a warm bath.

A soft kiss to your neck. “Y’should pee, sweetheart,”

You huffed at him, grabbing his wrist to pull his arm tighter around you. “Five more minutes? I need my cuddle time…”

He pretended to groan, lying through his teeth about how he won’t feel bad when you give yourself another UTI, and he won’t even buy you cranberry juice, even though you know there will be a glass waiting for you with breakfast in the morning.

“YOU LOVE EDDIE MORE THAN ME!”

“JESUS!” You felt the wet slap against your hand before you realized you were swinging, Venom’s weird bobbing head taking the hit and simply returning to an inch in front of your face.

“WHY?!”

“Inside voice,” Eddie groaned, trying to shoo the symbiote away like a bug.

“I WILL NOT USE MY INSIDE VOICE! PRECIOUS FAVORS YOU!”

A groan built up in your throat as your high quickly faded, but you held it back: it couldn’t do anything good. “Vee,” you chided, “you know better than to talk to me like that.” It was something established almost immediately when he’d entered your relationship. He practically swoons at the memory of you throwing mugs at him while Eddie yelled at him not to let any of them shatter.

No, can’t get distracted!

He grumbles, laying his floating head on the pillow in front of yours. “... you love him more than me.”

It’s a statement. One that makes Eddie’s arms tighten around you, afraid of what the alien might do if he dislikes your response. He knows Venom wouldn’t do anything to harm him, but there may always be the underlying fear that you’ll become fair game one day. Randomly, or for whatever reason, he may wake to the taste of you on his tongue in a way he never wanted.

But you amazed him, just like you seemed to do every day. You pet the alien’s head just like you would Eddie’s when he was stressed, and you spoke without a hint of fear for the razor-like teeth in your face. “Love can’t be measured, Vee, you know that,” you chided, but your voice held no edge. The same way you would chastise your niece that you loved the bouquet she picked you, but maybe let’s not pick from people’s flowerbeds. “I don’t love him more.”

He bristled like a cat. “You always want him when we fuck you!”

“Yes,” you agreed gently, “because you hide him away.” You tapped the flat side of his teeth. “And you don’t have the equipment for kissing.” He still grumbled, but was all too eager to tuck into your palm when you offered it. “You have to be more understanding, Vee. You have no idea how long I’ve known Eddie. We were best friends, then he started courting me - took me on dates, brought me flowers - before we even started seriously dating, let alone living and sleeping together.” You stroked his smooth head. “So there’s gonna be a difference in how we interact versus you and me… okay?”

A stretch of silence where Eddie held his breath. If there was anyone who could talk down a brain-eating alien, it was you, but that fear in the back of his mind…

“... I understand.”

You smiled, kissing his head. “Good.”

“I should court you.”

A laugh from you, a joking gripe about having competition from Eddie. “That’d be sweet, Vee.”

A sharp gasp fell from your lips as Eddie’s cock was pulled from you so abruptly, his arms as well as he tumbled to the floor.

“Wha-”

“Let’s go, Eddie! I won’t come home without a suitable trophy to gift precious!”

“Wait, Vee - fuck - stop! I’m not wearing pants - I’m not wearing anything!”

“Not my problem!”

Eddie cried your name as a last attempt, glaring at your poorly hidden laughter. You took pity on him, clicking your tongue. “Not now, Vee,” you chastised, patting the mattress. “Y’know the rules, I need my cuddles.”

“Oh - yes!” He dragged Eddie right back into bed, snapping Eddie’s arms around you as if he wouldn’t do it himself. “Cuddles,” he mumbled, seeming to seriously ponder the word. “... ah!”

You felt your heart melt - just a little bit - as he curled into the crook of your neck, realizing he’d been pondering how to cuddle with his bobble head form. He nipped the tender flesh under your chin, just barely working it with his teeth without breaking it as he melted into the curves your body provided. Soft purrs started tumbling out of him, Eddie’s arms tightening around you, pulling you into his firm chest. His hands started kneading your hips, his self-soothing method that always emerged after a rough night - work or sex, he needed to touch you. Feel you push back on him, know you were real.

“Love you,” he muttered, words almost lost in your hair.

You brought his hand to your lips, kissing across his knuckles. “I love you.” You turned your head, lips brushing Venom. “And I love you.”

“I love the both of you, too,” he purred, “Eddie won’t say it, but he loves me.”

A short laugh, but no denial. You had rules about lies in your bedroom, after all.

“... You should really go pee.”

“Baby, please shut up.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

500 notes · View notes

bowieandqueen11 · 4 months

Text

Exchanging Pleasantries / Cooper Howard Imagine

Request: Could you please do hurt/comfort with The Ghoul? Like, maybe you got hurt during a fight with Raiders and he's being mean while stitching you up. Thanks pookie bookie ily

Omg bb @itsyellow ily too I couldn't wait to write this!! Hit me with that hurt/comfort that's my jam son

Also did I make this full of unresolved sexual tension? Frick yeah I did

As always, if you enjoyed please drop a comment to help me out and let me know!

Warning: slightly NSFW/ making out, mentions of injury and violence, slight mention of a choking kink? and some strong language!

(I do not own Fallout or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @goodsirs.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

'Y'know, you may be one of the stupidest goddamn people left on this planet. And I've seen a hell of a lotta stupid people.'

You know better to think that the one and only Ghoul: the slinking shadow that steadily tails and entraps every inch of the starkly barren world he can reach, the infamous bounty feared in every town, from Philly to Rivet City, would be one for pleasantries. Yet, even during your brief period travelling with the man across the wake of the formerly 'glorious' West-coast America, his callousness often left you wishing for the sweet silence of a Nuclear Winter.

Even Cooper Howard himself recognises the fact that he doesn't exactly, well, radiate off anything that could be called close to a succouring nature. Hell, he would be happy to radiate off anything that wouldn't have you spending his valuable time making detours to wandering doctors holed up in blood-splattered tents to use his hard-earned money in bartering for caps off your next bottle of Rad-X. He supposes, as you had shaken the bottle in front of his frowning face and wandered back off into the crowning desert sun, that if he could work himself back up to being unenthused, he would be able to count it as his first win in over two hundred years.

'Well, if you tried to stop fighting every single person still left out here I wouldn't have to risk my ass stupidly running in to save you', you retort, gnashing your teeth and trying your best not to squirm against his chest as he rips a fragment of broken plate from the back of your shoulder.

It wasn't often that you were allowed to light a fire in the wilds of the Wasteland: far too many radroach nibble bites littered your legs, far too many gash-covered tentacles slashes from the repulsive Centaurs marked your outer arms. However, as the two of you had spent your seemingly so lovely afternoon out on the highway being ambushed by a group of bloodthirsty Raiders, you had browbeaten the Ghoul into allowing the two of you such a special treat. An empty bottle of Nuka Cola lies by your faded makeshift floor covering that acts as your mattress, and you sigh in relief as the warmth of the flames licks across your tired arms.

Your soon drawn out of your repose by the feel of The Ghoul's cowboy boots thumping against either side of your legs; he awkwardly tries to leave enough room that he's not straddling your back, but his legs won't quite dip down enough to be more than halfway off the floor.

It leaves him having to scrape himself forward until his groin is nearly pressed against your tailbone, and you can feel the hem of his hat brush up your neck as he idly surveys the extent of your injuries. As he fidgets the strap of your vest down past the joint of your shoulder, you have to breathe in sharply to stop yourself grunting at the sharp scratch of his glove's rough seams as he drags his hand down.

'You're right', he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, dragging a strip of musty cloth out of his satchel bag and pressing it against your oozing wound. 'Your ass really is fucking stupid if you think that you were helpin'.' You grimace as a flash of stimulation and mortification flashes through your body; whether the pain in your gut is from the flesh wounds or from the clutch of thick leather as the Ghoul tantalisingly rakes his fingers up the tender skin of your shoulder and grips, you're too distracted to try and find out.

Sweeping your eyes over the fire-brushed ground that cracked and and crumbled underneath your heel, you can understand his frustration at you. At the world. Scorch marks litter the dusty ground around your make-shift campsite, the plasma rifles and energy weapons the Fiends had managed to barter, steal, and smuggle out from the Van Graffs stock lying in blasted pieces around the fragments of rusted metal once shielding the long gone diesel pumps. The violence - the anger, it always seemed never ending. Gosh, what you wouldn't give for a canopy right now: to stop the sun burns from blistering your face, to hide the sudden hush of shame and embarrassment that rose flush up your face like a mushroom cloud.

'Yeah, well, I did come running- you're welcome, by the way-', you start, but the Ghoul, as venomous a man as he is, cuts short your reply by prodding the point of one of the needles holding the tail edge of his coat together into the hanging flaps of your skin. Your hand balls into a fist as you feel the sharp tip scrape over muscle; you try your best not to whimper as his poison slits through your veins and slithers down to corrode your very soul, but the relief. Oh, god, corruption has never felt so good as the Ghoul's free hand sliding down to cup your ribcage. His middle and ring finger took turns tapping against your waist, a slight huff coming from his mouth and tingling against the shell of your ear.

At first, you think the Ghoul is mad at you: pissed off that if any of the Raiders had survived and scampered off back to their chem-den to frenziedly retell their confrontation with a certain duster-clad gunslinger, a certain ruthless reputation - a certain long upheld persona, would be tarnished. That he was aggravated in having to waste his dwindling supply of bullets in wasting the spiky-hair fiend that had sprung out from the door of the thought abandoned Red Rocket Truck Stop just as you were busy body slamming his friend to the ground. That he was embittered at the fact that you had the incredibly anserine idea to stop off in the middle of goddamn nowhere: somewhere straight off your Pip-Boy map to nestle down for the night on your route to the New Vegas strip.

Enraged, indeed, by the fact that he may have to admit that he wanted to save your life.

'You call that running?', he puffs out a chuckle, unceremoniously wiping the blood of the needle by using the back of your vest. 'I call that leaping up yonder head over ass across that Nuka-Cola machine.' He lets go of your side, much to your disappoint, and looks at you disapprovingly as you turn around to face him. He's waving the syringe edge of a stimpak in your general direction, and you make sure to slap his hand extra hard as you grab it off him.

'You know, cowboy, you were the one that asked me to tag along. Not the other way round', you groan in exhilaration as you stab the needle into the knife wound on your thigh, and that first hit of the Stimpak courses through your muscle. Cooper has to clench his fingers into the leather of his fist to stop himself from going feral right there and then. He sniffs loudly, scrunching up his nose and casting his gaze to the fireside to try and hide his displeasure.

'Well', he manages to choke out between clenched teeth, gripping onto his own leg so harshly he wonders if he's drawn blood between his claws, 'you are such delightful company.'

For the first time in his life, Cooper Howard wants to just... ride away from his problems. That's all you were supposed to be: a solution. A resource. Another object to exploit, to foist upon his own callous needs so that he may survive another day in this merciless hell pit. A life for a hundred and fifty vials felt like a mighty fair trade in the disintegrating shit-show of post-apocalyptic commerce.

It had been easier that way, luring you away from the only small shack left among the rubble of the underground Subway Station that the Fiends hadn't left splattered with blotted rivers of crimson and half-mangled body parts. It had been so much simpler, as he had shoved the still fresh bodies of the murderers and cannibals off the side of the Metro escalator, that he was here to save you. That he had no knowledge of the bounty held over your head by the Enclave, or of the reasons that you had become so... acquainted with the New California Republic during your month long travels for the Crimson Caravan Company. As the door had groaned open, he was left pointing his pistol in your face: a towering penumbra, larger than life, that seemed to swallow every inch of swinging lamplight around your doorway in a veiled sinfulness. He had found it so much easier, as he peered down at your gloomy face and smirked as the unmistakable sound of a Ripper reared closer to his head, that he was here to be your saviour.

That's right. As he had offered you protection: a safe route away, a constant presence, your second shadow on your journey back to the Strip for only a measly few caps, he had found it so much easier to pretend that this wasn't personal. That the way you shook his hand hadn't made his skin prickle, hadn't been the first thing his nerves had alighted at since the last fading memory he had of caressing his wife. That the way you had strapped your leather armour pauldron around your left shoulder, and pulled up the hem of your trouser leg to strap a hidden knife to your calf didn't have him unconsciously dragging his tongue along the cracks of his bottom lip, and left him staring in bemusement. The incredulousness that had his eyes glazing over and the bottom of his stomach clenching as the two of you pried open the doors back up to the surface, and he had nonchalantly inquired as to who had... disposed of the Fiends before his arrival here. You had just shrugged, throwing a smirk at him from behind your shoulder, and he couldn't help but feel his own mouth twitch up to mirror your reaction.

It had been so, so much easier to pretend that you were just another bounty. That you were the first person, since he had lost Janey in another life, that had made him feel something other than contempt. Or worse, nihility. Nothingness. Just a hodgepodge script of fabricated and fictional lines that he reeled off as if it were more than just second-nature; an amalgamation of everything hollow and horrid that he had spent so much of his long-lost life trying desperately to bury.

But Cooper knew better than anyone, that nothing, and no one, could stay buried forever.

And with every returned smile: every lingering brush of some Caravan Trader's fingers on your arm as they tried to sell you some over-priced snake oil, every repulsive simper of a NCR trooper as they tried to buy you a bottle of vodka during your rare stops at some remote barrack, had the rot he had constructed within his soul become that little bit more mutilating.

The silence between you is deafening. And so you do something really stupid: you decide to ask him about his dirt-stained outfit.

'So', you drawl, turning yourself around so your legs are crossed out by your side, doing your best to stay firmly seated between the tensing muscles of the Ghoul's thick thighs. He draws his spurs in a line across the sand, but to your astonishment, and wild delight, he doesn't pull his legs open any further. 'Did you rob a real cowboy or something? I didn't think they were real. The only ones we ever saw were those rugged, way too contrived looking ones on those old movies.'

Your fingers curl over the edges of his collar, tentatively letting your fingers drop to rest against the sharp gap against his breastbone.

A muscle in Cooper's jaw jumps.

Oh. Oh. You'd never seen him actually angry before, behind all that cowboy western shooter charade.

For a moment, you're worried you've offended him somehow; a faraway look seems to draw him into the pale billows that smoke up from the orange flames, and a look that you've never seen before- never could even contemplate drooping the face of the suddenly so haggard looking man sitting by your side flitted across his scrunching face.

Forlorn. He looked so forlorn.

Neither of you are sure if he's even conscious of his arm moving, snaking itself across the small of your back to clutch almost painfully against the meat of your hip. His thumb strokes against the outline of your bone: probing, testing, clawing and pinching as if he had repeated the action over and over and over again in his mind.

'This? This is as old as the dirt and the worms.'

He doesn't react, doesn't move the frozen stone of his stoic face when you hesitantly grip onto his fingers, and slowly... god, so slowly, pull his glove off and drop it on the ground. Suddenly feeling so exhausted, your droop your head down against the dried sweat on your neck and watch yourself place your hand gingerly over his own, holding him in a wary vice against your side.

'What... what's a worm', you tentatively ask, your eyes wide open in worry that your question might break the provisionary affinity of this moment.

Cooper actually... snorts, a smirk threatening to break across his face as he looks out of the corner of his eye at you. 'An 'ol creature that used to live under the soil.' His eyes burn a hole into your irises, and he finally cracks out in a sallow grin as he contemplates the fact that he has your whole, enraptured attention. 'In fact, almost a whole lot like you.'

You smack his shoulder, but he only tilts his head back with an inquisitive gloat on his lips. He tips his head down, moving his other free hand to grab and squeeze the other side of your waist, making you woefully buck back against the bottom button of his shirt as the pit of your bottom begins to thrum with a devastating heat.

'Now', you can hear the teasing in his voice as he dips his spine down to hover over the shell of your ear. 'The real question is, where in the sweet hell would you have seen such heinous films such as those?'

His hand crawls like sweet spiderwebs across to your bellybutton, taking your breath away as he cups his palm against your skin and carts you back till your resting against the side of his chin, entangling you against the last vestige of the man he's entombed within the Stygian shadows.

'My ma used to show them to me and my brother if we had been extra good. She spent a whole three months saving up whatever metal scraps she could scavenge to go trade over at the General Store in Goodsprings and buy ourselves a real life television. The picture was blurry as shit, and we only had one holotape that I swear I ended up being able to quote back to front by the time I was sick of watching it. But hell, if we didn't crowd around the floor in wonder and dream about being a mysterious, rifle swinging stranger that roamed around the wastes saving people.'

Cooper purses his lips, swallowing thickly as he lassos your words in a whirlwind around his mind. After what seems like an eternity of listening to the soft whistle blow through the cartilage of his nose, of noting the quiet scurry of Bark Scorpions barbing through the pale tufts of faraway brushes, and the sound of your own heart hammering against your ribcage, each hit cracking your ribcage open with a sledgehammer, Cooper grumbles a reply.

'Y'know, there's an old saying back where I'm from - one that those folks in those movies you... respected use' to say. Feo, fuerte y formal. It means you're ugly, strong, and dignified. And shit, I can say for sure that you've got ugly ticked off that list.'

'You cheeky shit-', you start, but you can't help but shove your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from laughing. With a jolt forward over your stomach, you wince at the pain that flashes through your body at your only recently closed wounds. The Ghoul snarkily utters a tut tut, making you actually fucking whimper aloud this time when his hands grab your love handles, lifts you up, and slaps you down atop his lap. A faint slip from the curve of your buttocks sliding down to settle against his inner thigh has him hissing against the back of your head.

Even though there was no chance of it ever occurring, the Ghoul loosely clenched his fingers around your throat and tilted your head back until your throat went dry, as if daring you to move away from him again.

'Ain't your fault darlin'', he twangs out in that hoarse voice of his, his tongue flicking as smooth as molasses against the shell of your ear: his pointed edge darting a sticky trail up to your inner ear. 'It ain't your fault that you look like a molerat.'

You snort, and Cooper finds himself smiling at the sound of a noise he hasn't heard since his daughter was... since his daughter was...

'You remind me of someone I used to know, you know that? She was... she was far too sweet. Far too good for all this shit too.'

'Aha, there he is.' You wrestle out of his grasp and turn your head disbelievingly. The Ghoul looks almost taken aback, before he draws back into himself and fixes himself to stare you down. 'Finally making an appearance after all this time, are we? Good to see I'm finally getting through to you.'

'Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?', he bares his teeth, gnashing them together almost instinctively.

'I mean, I think that was as close to an honest exchange with the man inside you I'm ever going to have.'

That makes him start.

Pensively, he watches you, assessing and appraising the quirks and emotions that wander across your face as he waits for you to finish your accusation.

'And unless you stop sticking your blaster in the face of every creature that walks and talks, probably your last as well.'

The Ghoul swallows thickly, doing his best to seem as straight laced as usual, but growing more and more discourteous in his manner by the almost sinful way he's darting your eyes down to your lips and allowing them to hover there. 'Now darlin', I'm only exchanging pleasantries.'

'Is that really what you'd call yourself? And here I thought it was cantankerous.'

'Considering the literal crap-hole you grew up in I'm surprised you even know that word, now.'

'The sewers are empty, Cowboy - I'd say there's more piss on you from Dogmeat than down there. Besides, I lived in a Subway Station... asshole', you spit out at your feet, hitting the fragmented remains of one of your assailants helmet spikes.

A jab pokes at your inner thigh; the clenched thumb of the Ghoul branding into your skin as he finally looks you dead in the eyes with a cold stare. 'And there you are.'

And yet there's something. There's something lingering there, in the dark. In the swirl of his irises. In the only part of his body that still remains fully intact. Fully him. Something valorous. A convolution of steadfastness and pride. An imploringness.

'Suppose...', you inhale sharply, not realising that the two of you have managed to claw and scrape and crawl inch by inch closer to each other during your... showdown. 'Suppose', you buck your knees forward until you have enough leverage to haunch yourself up and turn, using the exertion to swivel yourself round and straddle the Ghoul's legs. Your gaze dips down to watch the purse of his strangled lips, his head slowly raising itself to unmask itself from the murk. 'That we aren't so different after all.'

Before you have time to regret your words, the stout pressure of clashing thumbs and fingers have jerked against your chin and pulled you down to smash against Cooper's mouth. Gnashing teeth pull at your bottom lip without a moment's warning, slicing down to draw blood. Cooper pulls back to snarl, before diving back in and licking away the thin trail of blood driplets that dribble down your chin dimple with the flat edge of his impoverished tongue.

Your chest rises and falls in quick succession as the man leaning his weight eagerly against your stomach ravishes you, growling as he reaches down to pull at the bottom of your thighs, and raise your knees up so he can cup your ass and knead the sweet flesh.

Part of you wants to rip his clothes off him right there and then, part of the recesses of your mind worries about the impending danger of the Wastelands: a roaming gang of looters, the unlucky shimmer that forewarns the arrival of a Nightstalker, but all of you wants to slam your hands around the side of this man's face and knock him straight to the ground with the ferocity of your kiss.

Before you can even make it past the squishing his cheeks phase, you’re distracted from your plan by the pressure point of his fingers teasingly prodding against the outline of your inseam. You can't enact your plan - you can't, not when you can feel the tip of his finger run slowly... slowly... god! So agonisingly slowly up your inner thigh. Can feel the warm, almost ruinating nibble of his top teeth against the pulse point of your neck, before he leaves an apologetic slide of his inner lip against it: something bright and burning and beautiful making the nerves of his body scream as it gnaws away at their rot.

Perhaps, perhaps there was still time for the Ghoul to exhume the mouldering remains of Cooper Howard after all.

#fallout #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard imagine #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul x reader #fallout imagine #fallout show #cooper fallout #cooper fallout imagine #cooper fallout x reader #fr though why are there so many plates in this game

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mellosdrawings · 1 month

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Ok, originally I didn't want to do Twst OCs that weren't based on actual Disney characters, but I broke my one rule because @marigoldendragon triple dog dared me to do an octopus OC. Which I failed, because I did a jellyfish one instead :'D

(Just... pretend he's one of those random jellyfish from that one scene in Finding Nemo)

So yeah, here's my new Ignihyde OC I guess.

Noah Jackson

18 years old, 3rd year

Ignihyde

From the Coral Sea, jellyfish merman

He/Him though he doesn't mind any other pronouns

Signature Spell: Go With the Flow

-Basically an anti gravity spell that allows him or whoever he touches to move through the air the same way he does under water

-The tiniest gust of wind can make him float away

-If he uses it right before he gets knocked out by a spell he just flies away like a balloon with only minimal damages

-While he can stir himself through the air, the people that get affected by his spell generally can't. Only some merfolk manage to adjust and swim through the air

-It also works on objects. His own room is constantly under the spell while he's inside so he can emulate his own home

No heart, no brain, only vibes.

Noah is not the brightest and he knows it. His motto is to just "go with the flow". Whatever is funniest gets his attention, but he never goes out of his way to actually catch it. He just ~vibes~. Whatever happens happens. Good stuff? Great, let's have some fun! Bad stuff? Oh well, let's just wait for it to pass.

Nothing has weight for him. While it means he doesn't get hurt much in life because he just doesn't care, it can be a huge drag for the people around him.

Random facts:

-Noah is based on the Sea Nettle jellyfish. While his sting isn't necessarily deadly, he certainly can hurt others.

-He is only 1.56 meters tall.

-He is genuinely blind but he manages to get around by sensing light and magic. He still regularly sticks to someone and "goes with the flow" of the crowd.

-While very confused about getting sorted into Ignihyde, he immediately got into it because of the lights. He's surprisingly efficient at technomancy and uses speech-to-text to write his homeworks.

-He's pretty sensitive to waves so his dormmates often come to him when they are in search of the best spot to receive Wi-Fi.

-Noah always moves his arms around. His head too, to make his hair flow, which is a problem since his hair have the same toxic properties as his tentacles.

-His stamina is terrible and he has no strength whatsoever.

-He bargained with Sam to get a skirt because pants are too restrictive for him. He doesn't like his Dorm Uniform at all.

-He loses stuff. A LOT!

-His best subject is Flight.

-He's part of the Pop Music club but he has completely forgotten about it. He plays wind instruments, mostly ocarina or pan flute, but he also loves instruments that are bigger than he is.

(Jellyfish pic source)

(@marigoldendragon The drawings with Lachlan will be posted tomorrow, promise!)

#not all jellyfish are eyeless but it seems the species I chose is #(I hope I didn't mess up while doing research haha)#mello's drawings #twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twst Noah #floyd leech #art #my art

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klttn · 4 months

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hi !! could i request an alastor x bunny!reader where the reader is like an idol overlord ? also the reader is a major bimbo :3c could be nsfw as well !! ty !!!! ur writing is amazing !!! <3

⁺˳✧༚ ˚ 𝒷𝒾𝓂𝒷𝑜 𝒷𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎 ｡୨୧˚

— 𝜗𝜚 alastor x f!reader

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 summary : you may be a very established overlord but alastor will always protect his bunny, especially after her shows, especially when she’s in heat. nsfw. violence. murder. its alastor here. soft dom alastor. finger sucking. tentacles… shh. praise.

“lay a finger on her pretty little head and i’ll rip yours off before you can take your next breath.” alastors static spat at an overly touchy low status overlord who thought it a good idea to try and grope his bunny backstage in front of all her closest, most powerful friends, just as she came into heat. his very underdressed bunny who was extremely vulnerable right now. what an idiot.

your show had just finished and your suppressants were wearing off, skin sticky and sweet with the glazing of sweat. you were so dizzy and losing coherent thought, the only thing on your mind was alastor and his comfort, his scent. “al,” you whined, ignoring the other man in front of you and his attempts to touch you. alastor twitched in frustration at the need in your voice.

“come on baby, you don’t go dressing like that unless you want somebody to touch you!” the overlord slurred, disregarding alastor and being unrelenting. his sleazy form lingering around you. it’s surprising he’s still breathing with the look on your partners face but he has far more important things to consider. you.

a soft, ‘fuck you,’ came from your lips in the direction of the scum, glaring at him, you could tell that annoyed the overlord.

the man gritted his teeth, fear of alastor apparently still not sinking in, “little bimbo, you better watch your mouth,” he sneered.

you looked down at your appearance and huffed, “you’re just mad that someone half your size in a tiny skirt is more powerful than you.” you snap triggering a proud smile coming across alastor’s face and rosie too from what you could see over his shoulder.

“coming from a little bunny getting bested by her heat,” the man got closer to you, your hand squeezing alastor’s thigh tight to let him know you didn’t need him yet, “one pump of my fingers and i’d have you leaving this asshole in seconds.”

the rest of the overlords watched in anticipation, not intervening, not because they didn't want to but because they knew alastor had this under control.

“i suggest, dearie, that you get out of here whilst you still can before i make you experience something so grotesque you’ll be begging for death.”

alastor looked toward rosie and the others, she seemed to be hinting at something, her desolate eyes switching to look at you and then to the low life, licking her lips . “what an idea, rosie dearest!” alastor exclaimed, “i could just,” alastor paused, voice deepening, “do this,”he rasped, slowly detaching you from his side to let rosie’s arms hook around you, her soft figure a comfort to you in alastors absence.

“it’s okay sweetie, just stay with me,” rosie’s soft demeanour soothing you in an attempt to distract you.

alastors size grew gargantuan, slowly stretching out his limbs, enough to swallow the perverted man whole. neon crosses forming over his sadistic smile and face, antlers bigger than before.

rosie’s loving arms squeezed you tightly, burying your face into her as to not see the carnage in your current condition, knowing how fragile you were whether it was showing or not. “rosie’s got you, honey.”

“if you ever breathe the same air as my darling girl again, i will make what im about to do to you look like child’s play.” alastors voice echoed, completely devouring him in his entirety before returning to his regular state as if nothing just happened. “well he tasted bitter.”

as rosie’s grip softened and your guard subsided, you felt that feeling start to surface, “al please,” your voice broke him out of whatever trance he appeared to be in, long tongue darting and licking his lips, predatory gaze falling to you.

“get thy rabbit out of harms way,” zestial spoke abruptly and tenderly, worry evident in his actions, rosie’s too.

alastors soft ears flushed back before scooping you up in his embrace, head tucked into his chest, “til next time, dears.” then before you knew it, you were out of the place.

the familiar ease of the hotel now filling you with a partial sense of relief. “shhh bunny, we’re home, nothing to hurt you now but me,” the gentle comfort of alastor’s voice rung in your ears. emotions finally rushing in, heart racing and head pounding after such an intense scene from your boyfriend. “darling?” your fluffy ear twitched, slowly raising your head to look at alastor as he guided you to sit atop the top of your bed. “tell me what you need.”

“need you,” a soft whimper fell from your lips, pulling alastor toward you. “please, need you close.” your voice was small and timid yet desperate. a stark contrast compared to your usual hyper excited and confident self.

“come here, my bunny,” alastor disregarded his jacket and backed up to the top of the bed, arms spread as you crawled gingerly into his lap, back flush against his chest, your hands now clutching his arms that moved to wrap around you. the side of your head resting on his bicep and your chin on his forearm. “good girl.”

“empty-“ you mumbled, nuzzling into him, “wanna be filled.”

alastor used his height advantage and arm to force you to look at him, “how, darling?” his eyes softened as he looked at you, “tell me how.”

a pretty colour of red, the same as alastors slacks, crept up your cheeks, confirming your embarrassment, “fingers,” you whispered, hushed and weak.

“where, bunny?” alastors free hand now cupping your face.

you wordlessly nuzzled into his hand, opening your mouth, needy and wanting. alastor got the hint, shifting his thumb to rest atop your tongue, sharp claw gently scratching the back of your throat as you closed your lips. you let out an involuntary hum as you begun softly sucking and lapping at the digit.

“what a sight,” alastor whispered to himself. “is that all you need, my love?” your wide eyes batted up at him, flustered expression covering your face as you slowly bucked your hips in his lap. “oh, how precious?”

a whip of darkness protruded out of alastor, sliding down your waist, all the way to your thigh. “i’ll make sure you’re full, pretty girl.” you voluntarily spread your legs, slutty outfit making for easy access, oh how alastor loved his bimbo bunny’s little skirts.

the blackness finally made its way to your cunt, nose twitching and a soft cry erupting from your lips, muffled from his fingers. this is all you wanted. all you needed. a cute moan of relief resonated as your pussy was stretched, tentacle fitting so perfectly to your walls.

“this is all you needed isn’t, bunny?” alastors hand moving to stroke your soft floppy ears. “you and i both know that forgettable cretin could never come close to how i make you feel.” you nodded, subtly deepthroating his thumb as you did so.

alastor breathed softly, “good girl.”

A/N : bunny reader is my absolute favourite, i'm in LOVE with writing it <3 thank u so much lovie for this request !!

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bloodiedrogue · 1 year

Text

WHERE'S YOUR PATIENCE? (7)

SUMMARY: You and Astarion finally have the conversation. Among other things.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,912

WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, teasing, little bit of hand stuff, vaginal sex, CONSENT IS SEXY, mentions of past sexual/physical trauma, potential spoilers for acts 1/2.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Say thank you to the 2 bottles of Corona and the tequila shot I took to loosen up my brain enough to write this smut. I couldn't have done it without them. (And also my bardic inspiration @imgoingtofreakoutnow)

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

The weeks following feel like an uphill battle —a never-ending course of constant information and action all tied into one long work month. Without warning, you find yourself overwhelmingly annoyed with the pace of it all. Not to mention the unwavering guilt, knowing that if you’re not fighting hordes of Absolute cultists or doing research on how to rip the Illithid out of your head, your time is essentially wasted.

Or at least, that’s what it feels like.

Considering the severity of everything, even when you’re resting from a long day's work, you always find your mind wandering. Picking apart texts from old books you’ve found during infiltration missions. Oftentimes late at night when Astarion’s come back from feeding, you spend a lot of your time together relaying said thoughts. Using the late-night silence to fuel the drive that’s been missing throughout the day.

By the time you get to the Inn within the Shadowlands, you’re surprised he’s not sick of you for it. Nowadays, just the mere thought of your own voice makes you want to rip off your ears, and although you know it’s crucial that you discuss things like this, you know there are other things that are important too.

Like your shared confession. And your promise to talk of the past when you were both ready.

Since that night you haven’t asked him about it. With everything happening so quick, it’s been pushed to the back of your mind —lost amongst the clutter of thoughts that you’re often forced to leave behind. Deep down, you imagine he’s somewhat in the same boat but still, there’s even more guilt that surfaces. Filling both sides of the spectrum like an overflowing glass of water —so much so that by the time you’re gifted a proper night’s rest in an actual bed you’re already too tired to care.

As soon as you enter the Inn after your journey through the cursed shadows of the forest you head straight to the bar, barely batting an eye at the barkeep who looks you up and down, horrified by the state of your dress.

“Whiskey, please.”

“And… whatever else you got back there that doesn’t taste of fermentation.”

You turn to see Astarion already standing beside you, moving his hand to the small of your back to usher you into one of the stools. Immediately, you oblige with a sigh, blinking back sleep as you rest your bloodied elbows on the countertop, earning yourself a look of annoyance that Astarion squashes with an unfriendly scowl, showcasing his canine teeth.

If you weren’t so exhausted you probably would’ve laughed at such a sight, but considering you are, you instead let out a soft hum and down your whiskey when it’s placed in front of you, signalling for another.

“I see you’ve already decided how you’re going to spend your night off.”

Nodding your head, you barely register his words, slumping your damp forehead down against the counter with a groan. “How the fuck are we even alive?”

It’s a fair question when you take into account all that you’ve been through. All the puzzles and battles and endless expectations to now save all of Baldur’s Gate just to get these damned Illithids out of your head.

At this rate, you and everyone else should’ve been dead ages ago. Either murdered and looted for your tadpoles and their powers or already turned into tentacle-faced beasts. Not sitting next to Astarion, covered in blood, sweat and tears, wondering how the hell you’re supposed to keep going. How you’re meant to keep this unrealistic momentum of burnout over and over and—

He runs his palm along the base of your spine, drawing his fingers up and down as he takes a sip of his drink. “Hells if I know, darling.”

Feeling a bit delirious, you laugh and raise your head to look between him and the new drink in front of you. “We should’ve been dead by now.”

“You? Perhaps. Me?” He pauses to dig his digits into your aching neck, making your head fall forward again in delight. “Well, I have far too much to do after all of this is over.”

“Yeah, like what?”

When he doesn’t answer right away you remember the conversation. That moment by the fire where you kissed and confessed and told each other you’d talk about it. Immediately it fills you with anxiety, clouding your features with a worried brow and frowning lips as you crane your neck to the side.

When you look at him you notice he’s not really there. His eyes sit in their normal position, staring back but there’s nothing. Not a thought or feeling; just two empty voids surrounded by bloodied dissociation.

It pulls at your heartstrings far too much —makes you let out a breath and raise your frame to slip off the stool and move to hug him. Despite the lack of attention, he manages to follow suit as it happens, wrapping his arms around your neck as you burrow into his chest, once again sighing, wondering if you should apologize and offer your ear or merely forget the exchange entirely.

Before you can even think to do either he’s standing up, keeping his hold as he grabs your other whiskey and proceeds to drink it down, barely batting an eye.

Raising your brow at him, you feel his fingers dig into your neck again, rubbing rough circles that have you resting your forehead against his chest, trying to form any semblance of a thought.

It makes him laugh and raise his hand to your hair, running his fingers through the roots. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

You’re already off and climbing the stairs before you’re able to answer. Pushing through the pain that radiates through your calves with every step. Leaning against him with tired eyes that eventually open up when the door creaks open in front you of.

Somehow you managed to earn yourself a private room. One that’s actually clean with a real bed and a tub —all of which almost have you in tears.

“Nice of them to give us some privacy, hm?” Astarion smirks down at you as he speaks, watching as you roll your eyes and finally pull yourself away, reaching for the clasps of your leather vest. Like the rest of you, it’s coated in a thick layer of dirt and blood. All of it dried and coming off in disgusting clumps that have you scrunching up your face. Brushing off the top few clasps, you try not to focus on the way it feels against your fingers. How it collects under your nails as you narrow your eyes, struggling to get the damned thing off.

It makes him scoff and pull you back in, pushing your hands aside to undo the first clasp. “I feel as though I recall a time where you claimed to be patient?”

As he moves down to the next one you shake your head and look away. “Emotionally, yes. Physically I—“

“I’d say you’re far more patient in that regard, actually.”

For a second you’re not sure what he means but then it hits you. He means sex. Physical intimacy. A line of which you hadn’t yet crossed due to several things. The main being your lack of conversation —your lack of focus to a promise you both said you wouldn't break.

Obviously, the lack of time hasn’t helped either, but as you stand there, watching his fingers pull apart your top layer, you find yourself visibly frustrated. Angry at yourself for not taking the time to offer the piece of yourself you desperately want.

After that night it was always your intention to go first. To tell him all about your past in order to open the floodgates. You figured if you were brave enough to do it —to be the one to bite the bullet— maybe he’d inevitably follow.

But then life got in the way and now nearly five weeks later it suddenly feels like you’re stuck in this limbo. One where you’re dancing on the edge, teetering with bated breath. Wondering if maybe the time is right.

As his hands move further and further you find yourself fighting your imagination. Brushing off the feelings that start to surface as you stare down at his hands, watching their delicate ministrations.

It’s apparent then that he's no stranger to the art of undress. As his fingers twist and turn to work the clasps apart, you have to stop yourself from giving in to temptation, knowing that it’s wrong. Remembering the promise you made.

Moving your hand to stop him, you clear your throat and watch his eyes. Noticing the way they filter through the air to eventually focus on you, blinking as if he wasn’t there to begin with.

“Can we talk now? Maybe?”

His hands sit against your leathers, gripping the metal with tightened fingers that still somehow manage to pale from their hold despite his complexion. “Course.”

Running your fingers along his knuckles, you slowly wrap your fists around them, bringing them up toward your mouth to place soft kisses despite the mess of battle that lingers. Then you drag him further into the room, placing him on the edge of the bed.

“Do you know who Beshaba is?” you ask, plain and simple, unsure how else to start the conversation of your past as you sit beside him.

“The deity?”

You nod, slowly, letting your gaze anxiously fall to your lap. “I grew up in one of her churches after my parents died. Learned everything I know about the world from a priestess named Hessa.”

As you try your best to further collect your thoughts, Astarion leans in, narrowing his eyes at the way your hands start to shake against your thigh.

“Is she the one in your dream?” he asks.

Without hesitation, you nod. “They thrive on infliction,” you explain after, watching him frown. Taking in the way his demeanour changes without warning to become something you’re not quite sure you've seen before. “Their doctrine revolves around fear. If you don’t participate you’re expected to endure only pain and misfortune.”

You remember growing up underneath all these women, listening to their cautionary tales of Beshaba’s terror. It instilled fear in you from the get-go —taught you that the only way to endure the horrors of this life was to devote yourself to her. To offer everything you could in exchange for peace, so you did. Unwaveringly so.

“As a child, I grew up listening to these women scare everyone for the sake of their goddess.” You pause to swallow, feeling the memories of Hessa’s knife each time you later disobeyed, slice across your skin. “Then, as an adult, I followed the cycle.”

“Willingly?”

You shrug your shoulders. “At first.”

You remember as soon as you were old enough you were sent out to recruit. To trick the minds of all the simple folk, weaving fabricated tales of disasters that were carried out by Beshaba’s hand. It was difficult to do. Seeing all those ruined minds come crawling to you for salvation —begging for forgiveness in the form of eternal loyalty.

Thankfully though, it grew old pretty quickly. The formula of travelling Faerûn, following the endless calamity and blaming it on the lack of faith was enough to pull you out of the fog. As each day passed, it became increasingly hard to pretend your faith was still intact, so you formulated a plan.

“When we arrived in Baldur’s Gate I tried to leave. In the middle of the night I abandoned my sisters —tried to run and never look back but…”

There’s a moment where your mouth just closes, trailing from the memories of your story; straying solely to the image of Hessa. To her hands and face each time she broke you apart and put you back together.

Without even trying you can feel her next to you, whispering her teachings in your ear —touching your scars with calloused hands. Her voice still has that icy hold on you even when you’re far away, keeping you still as she forces you down to kneel on the stone floor and await your punishment.

A punishment you’ll always feel you deserve. Even now that you’ve well and truly denounced the faith. Deep down you still feel the guilt of your exit. The pain of having to carry the trauma of an existence you never had the choice of living. To this day, it still eats away through the scars that line your stomach. Boring lines of betrayal across your skin.

The last thing you want to do is cry, but as the reminder of such abuse continues to penetrate your mind you find the tears falling anyway. Collecting at the edges of your eyes so quickly that you’re forced to close them in order to reset your vision.

As you do you feel Astarion wrapping himself completely around you. Pulling you into his chest with heavy hands that feel nothing like hers. Reminding you that you’re safe. That you’re here with him and nobody else.

“Is this wretched woman still stationed in Baldur’s?”

You feel his fingers on your chin, pulling your face up so that he can see you when you nod, holding back tears.

“Good. Then our destinations align.”

His voice sounds different. Instead of the usual softness or flirtation, it’s spoken through clenched teeth that strain against his throat, somehow feeling almost like a threat. An unspoken but well-articulated phrase of warning that has you sniffing and wiping your eyes. “What do you mean?”

At first, you figure he’s talking about the Illithid. The urgent need to get to Baldur’s Gate before time runs out. But then you’re ripped back to reality —to the moments where he’s briefly mentioned his desire to return home. To finish whatever business he has after this timely journey is over.

“The person who sent the hunter—“

He practically spits out his name. Cazador Szarr. A man you’re unfortunately well aware of given his reputation.

After arriving in Baldur’s Gate it was common knowledge to avoid him and his property. As awful as your church was about promoting the misfortunes of others, they made it very clear not to get involved. According to them, he was an unholy man —one that could never fully be understood due to the obvious seclusion of his person.

To this day, you've always wondered what lies behind those doors of his. What sinister things he was up to throughout the years.

However, when you look at Astarion —when you see the way his rage suddenly seems to know no bounds, you know it’s bad. Worse than bad considering Astarion hardly ever gets angry. Sure, annoyance and frustration often come out but anger —real anger— never does.

“When you told me that you wished I didn’t know what it felt like, I didn’t realize how similar our experiences were.” His fingers rub rough circles into your flesh, distracting his mind as he lets out a breath and continues. “I didn’t know the level of your pain.”

“I didn’t tell you.”

“I know.”

His voice cracks. Your heart breaks. Then, both of you sit in another wave of silence, letting the words previously spoken sit at your feet as you stare at one another, trying to gauge what happens next.

You don’t anticipate his hands moving to his armour. Nor do you retain any sense of restraint when you reach to follow them, both of you working to pry it off before he pulls his tunic over his head.

Despite being on the road together for so long you’ve never seen him bare like this. So open and willing to prove to you that he's here. With you, here’s here and ready to share whatever you think you need.

Embarrassingly, it makes you want to cry all over again, reaching for his face. Feeling that familiar coolness beneath your touch as he turns to rest both hands on your hips again.

“It’s been so long since I’ve willingly wanted this.”

“This?” You look at him confused.

“To be intimate.” His fingers tighten around your flesh, digging into the plush ever so slightly. “To share the act of sex with another rather than exploit it.”

There’s a small smile that creeps through then. An inkling of hope for the vampire’s happiness as you inch in closer, placing the softest kiss you can muster to his cheek. “But you’re nervous?”

“Terribly,” he admits with a heavy breath. “In the span of 200 years I’ve bed countless men and women —all of them willing. All of them happy to have enjoyed my body only to end up at death’s door.”

It’s a lot to take in —the admittance of his faults. As soon as the first detail is uttered it’s as if the floodgates open and he’s telling you everything. From the moment he was turned and forced to crawl from his grave to the years that followed luring person after person into the Szarr home for a master so cruel you immediately wish to kill him.

“I spent so long under that bastard’s thumb that… I don’t even know who I am anymore. How I’m meant to be now that I’ve attained even the slightest bit of freedom.”

You understand how he feels. Perhaps the levels are different but deep within there’s always been this nagging feeling of how you’re supposed to live your life. How you feel as though you should be travelling the world in search of a new purpose rather than once again fulfilling someone else’s.

But then you remember what’s at stake. And how even someone else’s fate can affect your livelihood. Then it’s as if the cycle repeats itself, constantly reminding you that if you don’t participate then that’s the end. Your freedom is null just as Astarion’s, leaving you to wonder what’s the point of it all.

“I think people like you and I are just meant to live.” Your hands move up to touch his hair. Carefully, you grip his curls between your fingers, pressing the pads into his skull as you run them down, hearing him sigh. “To enjoy what little time we have.”

“Little?” He raises his brow with a smirk. “Darling, I’m immortal.”

“True but you could still become a Mind-flayer like the rest of us.”

“Fair point.”

He seems calmer now. The usual persona of his overbearing personality coming through, making you grin.

Instead of tightly wound he’s relaxed under your hold, practically melting against your touch as he lowers himself to rest on your shoulder. As he does, you end up catching a glimpse of his back, fully seeing Cazador’s work in the form of rough, red etchings that coat his entire spine.

You have to force yourself not to ask about them until he’s ready, tightening the hold you have around his head as you riddle his face in kisses, letting your lips linger against his temple as you close your eyes.

“They’re not as bad as they look,” he says then, somehow reading your mind.

As painful as it is to admit, you know he’s right. Compared to other scars you’ve seen his look undeniably perfect. The way they paint the image of what looks to be some sort of sigil against his pale flesh. Despite the violence endured to create such a piece, it’s obvious that there was care put in too. A meticulous hand working away with the precision of someone borderline obsessed.

If it wasn’t the result of abuse you could even call it beautiful. But since it’s not, you only continue to hold him, gripping his face for dear life, wondering what kind of pain he had to suffer to earn such a massive reminder of his ownership.

“Do you know what it is?”

He lifts his head, looking at you like he’s seeking the answer himself. “A brand I’m guessing. Not that I can tell. Unlike you I can’t use a mirror. Nor can I very well reach to trace the damned thing myself.”

Your fingers twitch at his words, feeling the temptation to touch them grow as you remember your own scars. In terms of appearance, they’re much more rigid. Three jagged lines that cover the middle of your stomach, making sure you remember. Ensuring your mind that every day you live on this earth —every new moment spent thinking that you’re worthy of whatever this is between you— that you’ll never be normal.

The moment they dug that first knife into your gut you were marked for life. Branded just like him.

Swallowing hard you force yourself to slip away from his grasp, watching the confusion that erupts before the understanding starts as you shakily discard your leather layer and throw your tunic over your head.

It takes everything in you not to put it back on when you see the look on Astarion’s face. How it studies you with knitted brows and a clenched jaw that makes you want to hold him again.

“Mine are just… lines. They don’t mean anything.” As you motion to the thick slashes that have been carved over countless times you catch his gaze twitching upward, taking in the exhaustion.

“She did this?”

After you nod you feel his hand move forward, ever so gently grazing the top of the centre line with curiosity. “How many times?”

“I don’t remember.”

“But you remember how it felt?”

You press your lips together, breathing through your nose. Sucking in the Inn’s dusty air before blowing it out as you nod, forcing back the memory. Pushing through the pain as your tadpole squirms, asking to let him in.

Like all the other feelings you’ve shared as of late, it’s been so long since you’ve felt his presence like this. Even with the Illithid’s constant use outside of each other, when he calls out to you it’s completely different. The movement behind your eye doesn’t feel like an annoyance. It feels like a call. A tingle of hope that has you answering before you can even question what it is he might want.

When you answer there’s a warmth that hits your skin. Enveloping you completely, you feel the aching of the heat carry through your extremities, cascading down in anxious pools that have you breathing rather hard. Closing your eyes, you see the image of Astarion’s hands in front of you. Slowly he wiggles his fingers and turns his palms, taking in the fact that he’s safely under the sun, despite what he is.

You realize then that this is the first memory he has of freedom. Of a life where he truly believes the tether’s been severed. All the thoughts inside his mind are full of nerves. Building anxieties of the past and the future being interrupted by a present he never thought was possible.

It’s a memory that stirs you to move. To guide his hands to your waist as you crawl into his lap and grab his chin.

Touching his skin you feel that same warmth flow through to your core. Letting it take over all the thoughts of scarring and owners and the lives you’ve both lived to get to this point, it takes away your breath. Pulls from you the needs of anything but him.

In this moment, none of it matters anymore. Every experience is nothing more than a dimming shadow compared to the sensation of his breath wafting over your face as you angle your head down to look at him.

“Do you want this?”

His tongue darts out to line his lips. His hunger growing at the sight of you —at the feeling of you moulded to him like melting wax just cool enough to touch. “Yes.”

“So it’s okay if I—“

There’s a hand in your hair before you can finish, forcing you down to his mouth. It’s rough at first but quickly softens once he’s got you where he wants you. Firmly set atop his thighs and in his grasp. Allowing him enough access to reach up and touch the edge of your neck, his thumb lingering towards the centre to press a soft touch —reminding you that you have to breathe. That the usage of your lungs is no longer second nature but something you actively have to think about through the open-mouthed kisses that work to take it all away.

Your head dizzies at the feeling. All at once your vision blurs while your hands begin to roam, stretching over skin and bone, eventually hitting raised scars that make you kiss him even harder, knowing it’s what he needs. What he deserves after countless years of loveless encounters. After touches, empty of anything resembling the adoration you wish to offer him.

While laying waste to his bruising lips, you clumsily slide down his lap so that you’re standing on the ground, tucked between his open legs and bending forward.

Confused, you feel his face twist against your own, prompting you to pull away and lower yourself further, letting your knees gently come in contact with the floor.

“I was enjoying you where you were,” he muses then, cocking his head to focus on the way your hands begin to slide up over his knees, resting on each outer thigh.

“And now you’ll enjoy me over here.” You smirk.

“Cheeky pup.”

“The cheekiest.”

After that, you shuffle closer and reach for his belt, keeping eye contact every step of the way to make sure you aren’t stepping over any boundaries.

The last thing you’d want is to make him feel uncomfortable —to feel used in all the ways he used to experience. So you combat all that by checking in; offering him subtle glances every time you take the next step.

You can tell immediately that he’s appreciative. Whenever he nods there’s a faint smile that sits across his lips, offering you approval as your fingers knock against the metal clasp of his belt, shakily moving to open it up.

At some point he ends up doing it himself, leaning forward to kiss your forehead and laugh at the nerves that render your fingers useless. Nerves that only spread when you stare up at his face while his hands busily move the strap aside.

After tossing his belt aside he doesn’t let you go further. Instead, he drags you further between his legs, leaning down to cup your cheeks and kiss you all over again.

It’s distracting, to say the least. The feeling of his lips moving in tandem with your own as he reaches around to rid you of your bra with two quick swipes, leaving you just as bare as him.

It sends a shiver down your spine that makes him smirk, his upper lip quirking against yours before he gently bites down making you groan.

“Can’t let you be the only one with a view,” he mutters against you, making you awkwardly laugh as you watch his gaze lower to your naked chest. “Can I, pet?”

“No, I suppose not.”

Your voice sounds anything but confident as his hands continue their descent, matching your previous desires when they linger at your belt, waiting for you to give him the okay.

When you do he makes quick work, unclasping the belt with skillful hands before lightly smacking your ass, signalling you to stand before he carefully slides the rest of it down, thumbing the edges of your legs.

You have to force yourself not to cry out right then and there, feeling overwhelmed by the soft touch of his fingers. How they barely graze the outer parts of your already parting thighs, stopping at your knees when he looks up at you with a smirk.

“You seem nervous, darling.”

Rolling your eyes, you shove an open palm to his chest, pushing him back against the bed with a scoff. One that makes him laugh and watch as you kick off the remainder of the fabric, trying to appear brave. Something that proves to be harder than you anticipate when he swiftly follows suit, giving you a show of your own in the form of freshly exposed skin you’ve only ever imagined in the deepest corners of your mind.

In almost an instant, the fabric slips away, revealing more of him than you possibly could’ve expected, making your mind wander as the building arousal between your thighs twitches with desire. Telling you that you need this.

You open your mouth to ask for more only to be yanked upon his lap causing a yelp to fall from your lips that makes you both laugh.

“You really are a marvel, aren’t you?”

With a smile, his eyes scan your naked frame. Up and down and back, they linger at every part as if he’s studying you for future use. Taking mental notes with each passing freckle or scar that lines the length of bare skin. “I mean truly, look at you.”

As he speaks, one hand runs along your neck —over your shoulder and down your arm until it’s resting at your thigh, gripping you tight. “I’m not sure what God out there decided to make you but remind me to give them my utmost thanks after this is over.”

When he leans in you have to force yourself not to nervously laugh at his praise, once again feeling his lips find refuge on your own, driving you to take things further. Encouraging you to make him feel as good as he deserves.

This time though, instead of asking for approval with a glance you do so with a touch, reaching down to grip the end of his length with gentle hands that make him moan. Ever so quietly, the second you hear it you immediately strengthen your hold, using your free hand to grip his shoulder as you work him slowly, noticing him push. Feeling the subtle arc of his hips buck against your hand, wanting more.

For a moment you think about doing it. Letting your hand tighten further while you pick up the pace. It’d be easy. Nothing more than a simple readjustment but something mischievous stops you from doing it.

Remembering that night at the grove —the one where he relentlessly teased just to get a rise out of you— you find yourself smirking and pulling away, gripping his shoulder even tighter to keep him in place.

Almost immediately, he knows exactly what you’re doing. He can feel it in the way you languidly pull at his cock, barely holding on with each stroke.

“You think you’re clever, do you?”

You quirk your brow and bite your lip, massaging the apex of his shoulder. “I have to be if I’m going to be hanging around you.”

Furthering his torment, you then tighten your grip for a couple more pumps before returning to your previous pace, eliciting a hiss of disapproval that has him gripping both your hips and maneuvering you to sit against his right thigh.

“Oh really?”

Pushing up into your core, Astarion shifts you back and forth with his hands, making your breath catch inside your throat once you realize what you’ve done. How you’ve instantly set yourself up for a failure you know he’ll only revel in winning.

Considering he’s more than capable of making you fluster solely with words, you should’ve expected this —saw it coming from a mile away.

Continuing your ministrations as lazily as possible, he barely registers them as he glides your folds against his leg. Holding you down, he manages to apply the perfect amount of pressure to build the tension, making you press your lips tightly together, forcing back any sound that might be deemed a loss.

Even though it’s anything but a competition. A detail that’s reminded once he maneuvers one of his hands to cup your sex, rubbing rough circles into your clit.

It makes you lose all semblance of thought, forgetting the hold you have on his cock as you shakily reach for his other shoulder, steadying yourself against him.

“Doesn’t it feel nice when you give in?”

Despite the context, there’s surprisingly no snark to his words. No sarcasm or bite —just genuine thought. A question so true to its word that all you can do is pant through the building pleasure and nod; letting him raise you off his leg and station himself at your entrance.

It fills your mind to the brim with needs and wants you never thought you’d feel again. Having been subjected to abuse and then forced upon a journey you’re still not sure you’re ready for, the thought of attachments like this never once crossed your mind.

Even after everything you’d been through, you never thought Astarion was capable of such tenderness —of loving care and safekeeping. Of gentle touches that run across your aching skin as he looks at you and you at him, both of you deciding it’s okay.

As soon as it’s given, he’s sliding into you. Painfully slow, he uses the approval to grant you access to your shared pleasure, pushing through the tightness just as you open your mouth.

“Feel alright?”

Your fingers press against his neck as they slide up to cup his chin so you can pull your foreheads together. “More than alright.”

Through an unsteady breath, he laughs and guides you further down, allowing you both to savour the sensation for a moment before pulling back out again.

As soon as he’s missing you’re already longing for more. Desperate for the fill of his cock, prompting a whine to escape; earning yourself a tut.

“Remember patience?”

You do. More than anything in this moment you remember your claim and how foolish it was to think he wouldn’t forget it.

“I recall you saying—"

“Astarion, please.”

You’re not sure if it’s the anguish in your voice or the squirming of your hips that does it, but almost instantly he’s giving in. Once again offering you exactly what you need in the form of a push and pull so viscerally satisfying you’re left slumped against his chest, keeping hold of his neck. Forcing his hand to grip the back of your head to see the way he ruts inside of you.

It’s a sight that’s almost too much. One that makes you moan and close your eyes, allowing him to move your face to his. At which point you’re on the precipice of ruin. Both body and mind becoming a mess of everything and nothing, forcing your breath to falter.

You can tell Astarion’s in the same boat, struggling to maintain his starting pace the longer you mindlessly grind against him, unable to contribute much of anything else.

Together, the two of you try to move in unison, pushing and pushing —inhaling and exhaling. Anything you can do to share the burden of the building pleasure that grows and grows until—

When it hits, it feels better than you imagined. Deep within there’s a blooming that unfolds, petal by petal, opening to reveal unholy tremors that make you release a heavy plume of air through your closed lips.

Gripping you close, you can feel Astarion follow quickly behind, twitching inside before he inevitably spills out, making both of you groan and fall back onto the bed in a fit of nervous laughter before he cheekily suggests you make use of the tub.

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#where's your patience?#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #summer writes

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the-s1lly-corner · 9 months

Text

What its like hugging the creepypasta characters

jeff and ben and toby are the only ones written as strictly platonic but the others can be seen either or! kind of wanted to do something easy for creepypasta characters (+ masky and hoodie) since i missed writing for these bozos </3 that said requests for creepypasta are open so crp fans go ham! return to this blogs roots! rah! written more as a rating as well as how it actually feels to hug them and not really a scenario that leads to you guys hugging yk?

SLENDERMAN:

very tall and skinny, maybe even boney. im still trying to decide if slenderman/slenderbeings have internal organs/bones/ect... though i can say that slenderman is fairly cold. hes not ICE cold, but hes noticeably cooler than your average person. can adjust his height to better suit his needs, so you dont have to worry about literally climbing him like a tree if you want to give him some affection... likes wrapping some of his tentacles around you during an embrace. not bone crushing, but not... well now its hard to explain, he seems odd with affection, not too sure how long or how tight to hold you... but hes learning! 7/10 love him, my tall wife

SPLENDORMAN:

very similar to slenderman in the regard that hes also very skinny and tall, though i do think hes just a teeeeeeny tiiiiiiny warmer than his brother! not by much but its a noticeable difference! loves lightly swinging you around before tugging you close to his chest, sometimes sways a little while holding you! holds you a little tighter than slenderman does. perhaps even nests his head on top of yours when you guys hug. honestly i can see him having a habit of just picking you up and carrying you around, platonic or romantic it doesnt matter, hes going to do it unless you express that you dont like it... 8/10 due to him being a little less cold (emotionally and physically)

EYELESS JACK:

now this ones ice cold, like youre going to need to bundle up if you want to cuddle up next to him since hes going to just snatch the heat out of you in a few minutes. admin personally hcs him to be on the shorter and thicker side, so theres that at least! very soft! generally not the type to seek out affection, though, so youre going to need to step up and initiate a lot of that stuff. not that he doesnt want it, he just doesnt really think about it all that much + he may or may not fear taking a bite out of you. shrugs... though i like to think that despite that, he can give some solid hugs! 6/10

LAUGHING JACK:

very warm, always seeking attention and affection from you so hugs are not in short supply. sometimes purrs when you guys hug, and similar to splendorman hes going to swing you around a bit.. though sometimes he gets too into it or too excited and it comes off more as thrashing you around. probably when hes feeling a little sillier than usual he pokes his cone nose into your cheek (gently). wraps his arms around you, like. totally around you since his arms can stretch and they dont really have.... bones... you know? probably sometimes hugs you from behind, typically after sneaking up behind you/poofing behind you from his smoke thing 8/10, would say 10/10 but i think he might accidentally crush you to death

MASKY/TIM:

not... very.. good at hugs. at most youre going to get one of those side hugs from him, at least when hes awake. sometimes when you two cuddle and he falls asleep, hes wrapping his arms around you and locking you in to his chest. normal body heat, maybe a little above average, but nothing too insane since hes still a human... hmm... doesnt really give those two armed hugs unless hes sleeping or you were just in danger. adrenaline and fear can do a lot to someone, you know... 6.5/10 masky gets a higher score than EJ since hes warmer

as for tim, hes a little more open to giving you affection, i think! while masky only really does it when you ask, i like to think that tim might be more likely to do it unprompted! likes resting his head/chin/jaw on your shoulder or head, depends on the height difference! 7/10

HOODIE/BRIAN:

i think in general i tend to type hoodie as a touch more open/social than masky.. masky tends to be a little... eh... he expresses stuff less than hoodie, at least in my take. shrugs. i do think hoodie likes to hug you from behind when youre doing something. very tall, personally hc him to be roughly 6 feet tall. neither buff nor skinny, have some pudge. generally very comfy, plus his hoodie is sometimes nice and soft, sometimes warm if you've managed to get him to wash it! likes swaying you a little while he looks over your shoulder to see what youre doing, only occasionally letting go to sign something to you.. 8/10

brian is more or less the same, but hes verbal so his hands are staying put on you. i also think hes a little bolder and more willing to just hold you whenever, let that man be affectionate with the reader! if this is romantic he likely puts his hands on your hips.. also 8/10

TICCI TOBY:

very affection starved, i think, but he also doesnt really initiate anything due to a deep rooted fear of rejection. so youre going to need to take the lead here! skin and bones, very cold since skinny people tend to be colder (at least in my experience with hugging!). when you guys do hug he does tend to hold you a little too tight. he doesnt mean anything malicious by it, its just that hes truly not used to hugging people and also subconsciously he doesnt want the hug to end, you know? 7/10 me thinks

BEN DROWNED:

very short very cold and... damp? i personally headcannon that the most of the time hes in a digital device, but on the rare chance hes in the real world... hes very cold and as previously mentioned damp. might also have a general electric buzz about him, too. kind of like holding a cold soggy plushie straight from a washing machine. not at all pleasant but he cant help it :( 4/10 the ghost boy does not make a good hugger there isnt much else to be said

JEFF THE KILLER:

very lanky, admin also headcannons him to be very tall. like 6'2. lanky fucker. probably a "where's my hug" person but not in the gross neckbeard way and more so mocking those kinds of people because the look you give him makes him lose his shit and cackle. his jacket kind of smells, youre going to have to get him to go wash it. it doesnt smell putrid or anything but it definitely needs a wash. what being a dude on the run after committing homicide does to a mf 5/10 only because he has a weird aura

PUPPETEER:

VERY lanky and VERY cold, kind of rigid thanks to his weird puppet joints. kind of like hugging a wooden puppet. i dont think thats a pleasant thing.... hm... is usually slightly levitating off of the ground so its even harder to get a hold of him, given that hes also already really tall as is... you have to make him stop hunching over so you can actually get in there. absolutely basks in the fact that youre giving your time and energy to him, kind of gets annoying with it sometimes but thats just him being an ass. 6/10 but only because i fuck with him sometimes when i remember him

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tanoraqui · 3 months

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Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: Let's Eat!

(That is, let's live, want, connect... oh, you know what I mean by now)

I like how Yaad and the other living villagers can casually talk with the ghosts, because for all intents and purposes they were also ghosts... In fact, those who stayed and spent centuries going through the patterns of life even though all true meaning had been lost long ago were MORE "ghosts" than those who lost their corporeal forms because they wanted to escape so badly that they went wandering... That's so fuckin' good. I wanna eat this writing.

Kabru just randomly walking out of the bushes the second Laios starts considering politics...love him. He was summoned. His PR spidey senses were going off.

look at my boy, establishing his own authority.

Lol this was me when we moved house last month, and my job was to just stand in the new living room and tell people where to put which box or piece of furniture. It's an important job in a task with a lot of people!

FUCK YEAH, THAT'S MY MAN! HE LOOKS GREAT!

fucking love the trope of "one savvy friend in the crowd who deliberately gets a supportive chant going." Of course it's Kabru.

Though it's important to note that the first thing someone called was, "The demon-eater's here!", and there was muttering while no one was entirely sure if that was a good thing or not... Kabru didn't start the rumble of the crowd; the rumble of the crowd is unavoidable, and you have to be aware of that. Laios has always been aware of that, he's just never known what to do about it, and so tried to avoid it. But he's not avoiding it anymore - so Kabru started the hype of the crowd.

They're both right! In order to eat, you need to kill! A memento of a meal IS a spoil of war!

They're unhappy bros... /laughing

Shown: man desperately reassuring himself, and psyching himself up to eat this stupid dragon meat

DADCHUCK. Istg my father has said the same thing to me.

p.s. oh thank god he's fully dressed again. it was indecent.

Marcille is so resigned to this, and so...determined to see it as her own choice. "We all agreed", "I've got to go" - and I'm sure she does see it as her own choice, in a way, because this is how the world has always worked and she knows that. She knew that going in. Those who do ancient magic are arrested by the Elves of the West, that's just the "natural" consequence. She might've gotten away with it if she'd gone undiscovered, or if she'd stayed in the dungeon forever, but she didn't - she chose to pursue her craft, to save Falin, and to do everything after that, too, and so she implicitly chose the consequence with it. If it's unfair, well, thinking that changes nothing, so it's better not to think it.

Until Laios is like, "Actually, I might have political power now? And I'm SO goddamn tired of myself and people I love being punished just for being different, and interested in unconventional things. Let's try something."

WELL-FUCKING-PLAYED! GET THEIR ASSES, LAIOS! It's especially great because I'm pretty sure he knows the answers to all of this by now? Power move!

Is she sitting there completely nude except for jewelry and a short robe. Icons only, honestly. Though "we have the luxury of time" feels like so much of a threat from an elf.

Hey, you did objectively defeat him! Okay arguably the Lion did but Laios did it first, he just also then talked to him, and got grabbed by friendly vine-tentacles. You didn't kill him, but that's not what Delgal asked for anyway!

thinking about that post that observed that Thistle's driving madness was specifically getting Delgal home for dinner, to eat all together as a family again, and he wakes up to the sound of the people of the Golden Kingdom eagerly inviting the (new) king to eat, and him responding...crying... What is lost is lost, but life will go on.

The moment when a character decides to lie to another character for their own good is always so compelling. The little moral quandary microcosm.

So Yaad did know something of what passed between Delgal and Thistle, that drove Thistle down the path to dark magic. He know what it was his grandfather blamed himself for.

This is SUCH A GOOD AND QUIET-SAD DEATH SCENE, but as a consummate fan of 'actually, living is much much harder than dying, and much more interesting too', I do like to think Thistle lives and has to...figure out what to do with his life. And that 'what to do with his life' ends up including ancient magic mad science with Marcille.

...But honestly, even though that'd be fun for me, it seems almost cruel to Thistle. He's been alive for so long. Those he loved most are gone. He held the demon back from the surface, trapped in those books, for so long, even if it was in no way whatsoever with the good of the world in mind. If anyone deserves this peaceful death in (what he thinks are) his brother's forgiving arms, it's him.

Unfortunately, my love, as has been ceaselessly proven in this story: that's life.

Marcille has caught onto one of the major themes! However, this story still isn't in favor of afternoon special Moral of the Story - not of letting the characters wrap things up with a bow, at least. You just go on living and wanting and learning about and connecting with and killing new things, forever! That's how it goes! You never know everything and you're always a little bit starving!

I really love this grumpy old man, and I want him to stick around and be one of Laios's advisors. He's an old gnome, he'll die as soon as an average tallman would anyway.

This is a) very touching coming from Mithrun, who is only just regaining his own will to live, and b) almost tautalogical in this story EXCEPT that it is also clear that merely "wanting" doesn't mean you get to continue to live, it only means that you're alive in this moment - you also need to want to live MORE than whatever's trying to kill you wants to live.

GREAT VISUALS!

And then it's so small, so small that she could leave it behind entirely but Falin is still so kind that she picks it up anyway! Falin who looks at everyone and everything - ghosts and brothers and mad mages and dead dragons, the latter of whom were both violently oppressing her soul - and thinkgs "I gotta help." She's so good!

I'm really going to need to write a like 2k post-canon character study about how Falin has part of the spirit of a dragon in her chest which unfurls while she travels abroad and curls up again and hides when she's home with Marcille and especially with Laios, and how it's a metaphor for her own independence but also literally there is the spirit of a dragon. At the end of it she figures out how to nurture and commune with the dragon enough to have her own flight-capable wings.

THIS IS SO FUCKING COOL-LOOKING. AUTOPHAGIC SELF-CREATION FOR THE FUCKING WIN!!

YYEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

fuck it, have a collage, because this bitch-ass website is about to cut off my photos-per-post. It can't HANDLE the sheet joy of Falin resurrection reunion hugs!!

so many people love her, or at least are really emotionally invested in this now!! /sobs

Lmaoooo

Laios: wracked with food poisoning because he ate raw walking mushroom Falin: great distress! Marcille: trying very hard to help, also thinking sooo hard that He Is An Idiot. [btw I love how it looks like she takes up holding her hair back with a band] Kabru: having his weekly moment, as he has for the past many years and will continue to have until he dies, of wondering if he shouldn't really have just killed this guy rather than let him become king

Kabru definitely wrote this whole ending narration btw. This is his press release from like 40 years in the future. And those kids! An orc kid and a kobold kid, and zooming out to show kids of other races, all playing together and going to lunch together!!

And then they all lived, and hungered and ate and killed and wanted and sought understanding and connected with one another and were part of the great circle of life, as happily ever after as one can get.

This story truly was delicious...in dungeon!

#dm lb #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #btw FUN FACT: today was very much a self-care day after a Stressful week #in which i slept 11 hours then ate a large meal of chicken and potatos and green beans #10/10 senshi would've been proud i think #dungeon meshi spoilers

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ttrpg-smash-pass-vs · 6 months

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Have you seen Dungeon Meshi? Laos is such a monsterfucker I can’t get over it. He asks one of his companions if it felt good to be caught by the tentacle-vine plant monster. He waxed poetic about how cool animal-hybrid monsters are. (I’m sorry if you don’t like a show or this feels irrelevant to your blog, but also I can’t tell my friends ‘hey I like this character because I also think it would feel good to be caught by the tentacle monster’)

Anyway he’s how I imagine this blog’s audience would approach an IRL dungeon expedition

Sorry to take this way too seriously, I mean no ill will. But I've been a MASSIVE fan of dungeon meshi for... oof, almost 7 years apparently, It's a perfect storm of everything I love with fantastic writing and characterization, and I don't think I could disagree with that more. I think you missed a primary running gag of the series. He keeps saying lines that, if anyone else said them would be sexual, but the people around him know he's just a super obsessed wildlife researcher. He does not want to fuck monsters, that's kinda the entire point. Like you need to understand that some biologists will happily and unnecessarily lick poison, get bitten, and pick up dangerous things without hesitation. It's not that they get off to poison play, it's that they love the topic so much that it's their life and they want to know every aspect. When he's zealously asking what it's like for the vine monster to grapple and stab you with seeds, he's saying that because he's just that into learning and wants the firsthand experience! He's here because he doesn't want to just read about his special interest, he wants to live it, be PART of the ecosystem!

...actually, incredibly relevant spoilers below for a monster later on (chapter 58-60, so likely end of this season or start of the next)

They later find straight-up succubi. Chilchuck talking about how they turn into your perfect match, you ALWAYS have to fight them as a pair or you're just screwed because of irresistible magic charming powers. One finds Laios alone...and he's completely unaffected, immediately chokes it and goes to kill it without any issue. The only hesitation is a bit of embarrassment that "Oh no, it misinterpreted my feelings as attraction, if the party finds this it'll lead to a HUGE misunderstanding. This could ruin my friendships, I need to immediately kill it and hide the body." That gives it enough time to convince him "hey, it's impossible to resist a succubus, so obviously I'm not a succubus right?" And it works because he knows that yes, nobody can resist a succubus charm. Except apparently him. Even trying again by combining his thoughts with his all time favorite monster didn't daze him like it did the others. It had to convince him that it could turn him INTO a monster, and that everyone else was ok with it too, to get him to hesitantly submit to being drained. They didn't have to reason with marcielle or chilchuck, but lust just didn't work with Laios, not as a person or as a monster. It's like how nobody gets panty shots except Senshi. it's a subversion joke. There are quite a few in this series, especially ones centered on Laios.

#not tournament #answers #dungeon meshi

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bunnypeew · 5 months

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Venom - Alastor x gn!reader

WARNINGS: Angst, Fluff, self harm mentioned slightly

oke so again i’m very sad recently,, for reasons,,, so i wanted to write a angst that ends in fluff so you’ve been warned, may be ooc for Alastor!

they never had such a fight to the point where Y/n cried, sniffling and hiccuping all the the way into the argument, and Alastor didn’t know how to handle this since he was mad, he was also in and out of his demon form but he was keeping it at bay as not to hurt them.

“Al you are not listening to me,,

they say with a sigh, then dry away their tears and straights themself up, now with a determined look on their face, they then turned around to leave.

Alastor was taken aback by this move and sent a tentacle to their wrist to stop them from opening the door.

“where do you think you’re going, mon cher?,,

he says in an assertive tone, but still soft at the end of the phrase. He was scared, he was getting scared they were gonna leave and never comeback, he hated that they made him weak, soft.

“i’m going out, I-I just need a moment Al sorry,,

they took off the tentacle gently, he didn’t use force he went limp and looked at them leaving his radio tower, leaving him to himself.

a few hours had gone by and all Alastor did was bounce his foot on the floor and tap his staff with his long claws, he was waiting, surely they’d comeback to him like they always did right? it wasn’t that bad of a fight to him, it was one like the other.

to them tho it was a disappointment, more proof he didn’t listen when they spoke

they went to their hotel room and hid under the blankets of their bed, still crying and sniffling away their pain. Words were stuck in their throat, they felt like venom that was about to kill them, they didn’t like to think bad about Alastor, they loved him a lot so these thoughts were intruding their brain without permission, they started hitting their head slightly, they tended to do that when they were really upset or having a panic attack, they were having also problems breathing so they got up to go to the bathroom to free their nose, that was until they heard a soft knock on the door, it was his classical knock, they flopped their arms down from their nose and sighed, now walking towards the door, cracking it a little bit to see Al staring outside, smile strained as to show he was also very upset, he never did stop smiling but they noticed whenever his emotions shifted.

“mon cher, may i come in please,,

they started considering, looking at the floor then looking back at Alastor then sighing again, they then opened the door for him letting him in the walked and buried themself in th blankets once again.

Alastor had noticed how puffy their eyes were as soon as they opened the door, making him understand that they had been crying for a while now, since they left anyways.

He sits softly down in the bed near them, placing his cane down next to him, he softly sighed looking at the bundle of blankets, still hearing sniffles and cries, his hand reaching out to stroke them but stopped mid air, then flopping back into place next to his body.

“Tu sais, je n'aurais jamais pensé que tu me quitterais comme ça, tu m'as fait peur,,

“You know, i never thought you'd walk out on me like that, you scared me,,

he was speaking french, which meant he was really stressed and truthful, being genuine at the very least, they put their hands in their hair and started pulling slightly Alastor could feel something was wrong so he took the blanket off from their head, seeing what they were doing his heart sunk, he soflty took their hands and pulled them towards his face, they were whining a little bit at the contact and cried even more.

Alastor started kissing at their knuckles, stroking softly with his clawed hands then looked them in the eyes

“I don’t want you hurting yourself because of me, understood?,,

he breathes on their hands kissing again and waiting for some sort of reply from them, they struggled but murmured a little sorry before hiccuping

“oh mon cœur, you don’t have to say sorry, come here,,

he opened his arms for them to crawl on his chest and get comfortable, he started stroking their hair, kissing on it then they sit there in silence for a little while so they could come down

“I adore you, you know that right?,,

he says softly, they nod slightly

everything was peachy again, good.

AAAH I LOVED WRITING THIS!! again it’s a little ooc but i needed it,, i’m a sucker for soft Alastor hope you enjoyed!!

#hazbin hotel #hazbinhotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #reader x alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fluff #angst

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ashtavula · 5 months

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Hi, I've been reading a lot of your work lately and I absolutely love them!

If it's not a bother can I request Jamil, Azul, Vil and Riddle with their S/O being the children of the great seven? Like they got isakaid there instead of yuu (I'm going to ask for all the Overblot boys because personally I think Idia, malleus and Leona are somehow related to the great seven, either a direct Descendants or distant relative)

Anyways thank you so much if you decide to do this and it's alright if you don't I just really love your writing style and works on the Overblot boys!!

This is a really interesting idea, considering all of the boys really respect the great seven!

Jamil, Azul, Vil, and Riddle with a reader who is the child of the great seven

Jamil:

-Jamil is usually reluctant to show off how smart he really is, but he feels like he has to prove his intelligence when he's with you. You are, after all, the child of the Sorcerer of the Sands. He fully believes that you must be just as wise as your father, even if you actually aren't.

-Jamil never refers to you by title, since it just reminds him that he's a servant, and you are the child of a grand vizier. He knows that you don't care, but he'd rather avoid bringing it up. Instead, he calls you habibi when you're both alone, and he can be more affectionate.

-He refuses to hear anything about you possibly returning to your home. Jamil knows that your father wouldn't approve of you dating a servant, and he can't stand the thought of losing you forever. All he can do is hope that you'll stay, against all odds.

Azul:

-Azul practically begs you to share what you know about your mother. He's always admired the Sea Witch, and he wants to know all there is to know. He'll light up if you reveal some of her wisdom to him, or show him how some of her magic was done.

-I assume that you're also an octopus mer, and that puts Azul at ease because you're like him. The two of you will both curl up in his octopot, giggling as his tentacles tangle with yours. Azul sweetly calls you his precious pearl as holds you, though he'll blush if you give him a pet name too.

-Azul is terrified that you'll leave him one day, and he tries his hardest to make you want to stay with him. He'll spoil you, and he constantly strives to prove that he's worthy of your love. He loves you too much to be able to bear losing you.

Vil:

-Vil doesn't want to push you too much, but the Fairest Queen is well-renowned for her poisons. Surely, you've learned from her, and can teach him. He also asks a lot about her beauty routines. He'll be ecstatic if you share any of her secrets with him.

-Vil adores being able to call you his beautiful prince/princess, and he tends to flaunt your relationship. He preens if you compliment him in return, and gets ridiculously happy if you call him your perfect prince. He feels tempted to record you telling him that, just so he can play it whenever he wants.

-He acts like he's not worried about you potentially leaving, but deep down he's scared that it will happen. He'd do just about anything to get you to stay with him, even if it meant facing off against the Fairest Queen.

Riddle:

-He gets even more serious about following the rules of the Queen of Hearts after realizing that she's your mother. Surely, you're pleased that he remembers all of them, right? Riddle would be baffled if you told him it wasn't necessary, or if you went so far as to criticize your mother for making up so many ridiculous rules.

-Riddle still refers to you by your title, but it's become a term of endearment. He'll kiss your hand as you stroll through the rose maze, and will affectionately call you his prince/princess. He also gets flustered if you refer to him as your prince. Or even better, your king.

-He worries that you miss your mother and your old home, but he desperately hopes that you'll stay with him. If it came down to you going back to your original place, Riddle would choose to go with you. Nothing is more important to him than his love for you.

#riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #jamil viper #jamil x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #twisted wonderland #twst reader insert #twst x reader #twst

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luxaryllis · 1 year

Note

hi!! if you're accepting requests rn could you pls write just pure angst of azul with a younger sibling who he was super close to before, but when their parents got divorced they grew distant bc the sibling went to live with their dad instead of with him and his mom. then a few years later sibling ends up attending nrc and azul recognizes them and is excited to talk to them again only to discover that they're not the same as before.

rlly loved your scared younger sibling fics. they gave me chest pains bc of how damn sad they were. keep up the good work :)

Brother Knows Best

Note: OMG!! What is this!? I, Lux, FINALLY finishing something and posting it?! Has a miracle truly happened?!

Anyway, I'll just write the sibling of this one as a year younger than Azul, and the sibling was also be an octopus merfolk. I'm going to mention the reader having interests in some stuff, so please don't get offended if it doesn't apply to you. You can always just replace the traits I put as a trait of yours!

And imma just use Ashengrotto as the family name, cuz idk if Ashengrotto was the last name of Azul's bio father, or step-father, or the maiden name of his mother.

Warning/s: Parents divorcing, Split custody, Angst, Spoilers to Azul's backstory and past, Spoilers to Azul's Ceremonial Robes vignettes, Reader is mentioned to have somewhat similar features to Azul (specific features aren't specified), Tell me if I missed anything

Full post under the cut!

-----

"Big brother! Why are you crying?" A slightly smaller mer-octopus swam closer with a concerned expression.

Azul, who was hiding in an octopus pot, looked up to his sweet and innocent little sibling. The 7-year-old boy's eyes soften, and Azul knew that it was only a matter of time before his baby sibling, [Name], would go through all the bullying and teasing as well.

But Azul didn't want that. He wanted [Name]'s cute smile to last forever. He wanted [Name] to not have to see and experience the horrors of simply being themself. He wanted to protect [Name] from everything and everyone who dared hurt them.

Azul's heart squeezed in his chest as he realizes that he can't. He can't protect [Name]. Azul couldn't even protect himself! He truly was... a weak, dumb, slow little octopus...

Tormented by his thoughts, Azul continued sobbing, hiding further into the octopus pot, hiding his chubby face from his little sibling.

"Don't look at me!!" Azul cries out, accidentally spitting out ink from his tentacles, staining the waters around them. The mess caused Azul to cry even more, the ugly black liquids reminding him of what the other kids told him.

[Name] frowns softly, they didn't know why their big brother was upset. The younger mer-octopus moves closer to the octo-pot, trying to coax their older brother to come out.

"Zul-ie.. what's wrong? I don't like seeing you sad..."

Upon receiving no response, the younger child purses their lips in a pout.

"Come onnn...! Mom and dad made dinner! They made fried chicken! Your favorite!!"

---

"Big brother!! Look, look! Wanna hear this song I learned on the piano?!"

Piano keys played a gorgeous melody under [Name]'s fingers, and Azul watched with wide eyes full of wonder and pride. Azul felt a small sense of envy in him, but he couldn't find it in himself to acknowledge the jealousy, because Azul was too proud of his younger sibling to do that.

And yet...

As [Name] learned more and more, Azul couldn't help but feel... left behind.

As though [Name] doesn't need him anymore.

But... but that isn't true right? [Name] needs Azul... right...?

As days and years pass by, nagging feelings of envy and worthlessness bubble up in Azul as he watches his sibling shine.

'I should be proud of them,' he thinks to himself as his mind wanders while he was studying.

---

'Mom and dad don't love each other anymore...'

Those were the thoughts in the two siblings' heads while they listened to their parents argue for what felt like the umpteenth time. And today, it seemed as though everyone in the house had finally had enough of the screams and shouts.

Around a month or so later, the Ashengrotto family were in court, for a divorce trial. It was a somewhat long process, but the judge's words hit the two children like a truck.

"Mrs. Ashengrotto is to be given custody over Azul Ashengrotto. Whilst Mr. Ashengrotto is to be given custody over [Name] Ashengrotto."

When the Ashengrotto family split up, Azul and [Name] were desperately trying to stay together. It went to the point that their parents had to pull the crying siblings apart because [Name] and their father had to leave.

"Big brother!!! NO!!"

"[Name]!!! Don't leave me please!!"

---

"DON'T LEAVE ME!!"

Azul wakes up with a start, sitting up from the bed with wide eyes and heavy breathing. His hair was frazzled in a bedhead, and he quickly looks around.

The Octavinelle Dorm Leader recognizes his dorm room, and breathes a sigh. Not one of relief, but one of exhaustion. Azul reaches to his bedside table and takes his glasses, putting them on as he checks the clock. 5 am.

Next to the clock, Azul sees the small picture he placed. A family picture of him, his mother, his father, and his younger sibling. It was taken before his parents had divorced. When they were all happy...

Azul stares at his younger sibling in the picture, yearning to see them again. He reaches out a bit, but stops himself and shakes his head. 'Now is not the time', he thinks to himself. He shakily stands up and starts getting ready for the welcoming ceremony of the new first years of NRC.

Azul leaves the room and passes by Jade and Floyd's shared room. The house-warden could hear Floyd's complaining through the door and he sighs, knocking on the door and speaking.

"Floyd, would you stop complaining? Jade and I have to get ready for the Welcoming Ceremony, and you and the others have to start preparing for the welcome party for our new first years."

Almost immediately, Floyd replies with a slight whiney tone. "Says the person who wasn't wrung out like a rag for some lotion! I can barely walk!!" Azul could almost hear the pout in Floyd's voice and sighs in exasperation, listening to Jade trying to calm his brother down.

Deciding to leave the twin eels alone, Azul starts to walk away and head to the Lounge to make sure the preparations are going smoothly. As he walked, his mind can't help but wander to thoughts like if he and his own younger sibling would have a similar dynamic to Jade and Floyd. Hm, or would their dynamic be more like Idia's and Ortho's? Likely not, perhaps.

These thoughts weighed in Azul's mind, and he feels himself shaking his head, trying to rid himself of those thoughts. He hasn't seen his younger sibling for a long time; but Azul certainly hopes that [Name] didn't have such a drastic change like he did.

For some reason, Azul couldn't bear the thought of his previously happy-go-lucky and outgoing [Name] to be anything else other than such a happy mer-octopus. It was wishful thinking, but what kind of older brother would he be if he didn't wish only the best for his younger sibling?

---

When the time came for the Welcoming Ceremony to begin, the Housewardens (exceot for Malleus Draconia, who likely didn't receive the invitation, Azul thinks) were all lined in a circle surrounding the mirror, waiting for students to be sorted into their own dorms.

As each student was being sorted to their dorms, Azul takes the time to look at each student that seemed to catch his attention. None seemed very relevant thus far, maybe a few people he could exploit here and there.

"Next student!"

A student dressed in the NRC Ceremonial Robes stepped out of the crowd of the unsorted first-years. Their hood was on and casting a shadow down their face as they walked towards the mirror.

"State thy name." The mirror said when the student stepped up.

Suddenly, the student spoke a name that ran a shiver down Azul's spine. A name that Azul never thought he would hear no matter how much he wished to hear.

"[Name] Ashengrotto."

Jade raised an eyebrow and turned to Azul curiously, and some other students who recognized the last name also snuck some glances to the Octavinelle Dormleader. Azul could vaguely hear Idia's voice through the floating tablet, saying things like, 'Plot twist?!', but he paid no heed to it.

Azul's eyes were wide, and his mouth was lightly agape in surprise. His younger sibling... studying in NRC?!?

Questions ran through Azul's head in that moment. How is his younger sibling doing? Do they still like to play the piano? Or perhaps they still continued collecting those sea shells? Did [Name] still want to be a singer when they grew up? Do they still enjoy chasing their tentacles like a dog liked chasing its tail? Do they still have that same smile they always did; the one that brightened any room they were in and made their eyes glimmer like the stars land-folk liked to gaze at?

The Dark Mirror spoke again, "The shape of they soul is..."

Azul was beside himself with worry and anticipation. What dorm would his younger sibling be sorted into?

'Octavinelle, Octavinelle, Octavinelle', Azul chanted in his head, hoping for the Dark Mirror to sort [Name] in the dorm he was in.

"... Octavinelle!"

It took almost everything in Azul not to let out a sigh of relief, but he was celebrating in his mind. Suddenly remembering that he was the Dorm Leader of Octavinelle, he stepped up and made himself known to his beloved younger sibling.

Azul mustered up an amicable smile (and those who knew him were rather surprised at how genuine Azul's smile looked), and spoke. "Welcome to Octavinelle, right this way please."

[Name], not having realized who the person underneathe the hood was, nodded and walked to the crowd of Octavinelle students, waiting for the Welcoming Ceremony to be over.

---

After a rather tiring Welcoming Ceremony, with an entire fire getting started by a racoon-cat-monster named Grim, all the students (save for that one student who couldn't get sorted to a dorm) were allowed to leave and go back to their respective dorms.

The Octavinelle first-years were granted a delicious meal and celebration, and were all briefed on their duties in the Mostro Lounge. The entire time, Azul kept sneaking glances at [Name], which wasn't really left unnoticed by the twins or by [Name] themself.

Azul eventually mustered up the courage to approach his younger sibling and struck up a conversation.

"[Name], it's very nice to see you..! I'm Azul, remember? Your older brother?" Azul's voice was one of slight anxiety, did [Name] eveb remember him? It has been a while since they last even heard from each other..

[Name] turns to look at Azul and nods a bit, smiling a little. "Ah, right. It's so nice to see you again, Zulie."

Being referred to his favorite childhood nickname made Azul smile softly, but he couldn't shake off the surprise at seeing the change of demeanor in [Name]. Back when they were younger, [Name] was much more outgoing and enthusiastic compared to this [Name], who seemed to want to curl up in a ball when someone else tried making conversation with them.

Not even their smile fully reached their eyes anymore. Just what had happened to his beloved younger sibling in the time he was gone?

Internally hoping that his younger sibling hadn't changed too much, Azul tried to continue the conversation. "Ah, do you.. still play the piano?"

[Name] shook their head and smiled a little sheepishly in reply. "Oh, no I don't anymore. Atleast, not as often as before. I still play it occasionally, but I don't exactly find it as fun now."

"What about collecting sea shells? Surely, you still find that enjoyable?"

"Dad and I lived in a more colder part of the ocean, and there weren't a lot of sea shells to collect. So, no, not really."

"Ahh, I see... what do you like doing nowadays, then, [Name]?"

"Oh, well..." [Name] then proceeds to tell their older brother of their interests; though most (if not all) the things the younger Ashengrotto listed were things Azul weren't very interested in.

Regardless, Azul nods in understanding, trying not to mind how much his sibling had changed.

The next few weeks after that, Azul had found it hard to approach [Name]. Why? Well, maybe it was because of the fact that his younger sibling had grown rather attached to the Ramshackle prefect and a certain trouble-making trio (Ace, Deuce, and Grim).

Azul had enough of it, seeing his younger sibling get roped into trouble from their group of friends. When [Name] had came back to the dorm with the Heartslabyul's dorm leader's collar on them, Azul had to pull his younger sibling aside to talk.

"[Name], may I ask exactly why you have Riddle's collar on you? What did your friends bring you into this time?" Azul asked [Name] as they spoke in Azul's office. Azul was looking at his beloved younger sibling with furrowed brows and a scrutinizing expression.

[Name] replied, "It's a.. long story, big brother. Yuu, Ace, Deuce, Grim, and I were at Heartslabyul's Unbirthday Party. Dorm Leader Rosehearts got mad at us and collared us and kicked us out of the party because a rule was broken.."

Azul sighs in disappointment and exasperation. He can't believe his younger sibling associated themself with such troublemakers.

"[Name], honestly, why do you even hang out with such people?! They're getting you into trouble!"

[Name] tries to defend themself, "They don't mean to! And I can't just stand by and watch as my friends suffer on their own!"

Azul starts to get a little frustrated. Can't they see, those group of 'friends' as [Name] calls them are terrible influences. It's only a matter of time before they start using [Name] for their own benefit, Azul is sure about that. After all, [Name] has always been rather straightforward in the way that they won't hesitate to help (such values were strange to see in a school like Night Raven College). And Azul knew what happened to people like that; they get exploited, wrung out like a rag, draining them out until there's nothing left to give.

If [Name]'s friends were anything like the other students of NRC (like how Azul would treat his 'clients'), it would be so, so much worse for [Name]. Oh, Azul could practically see it now; it'll start small, like helping out with homework or lending some money. Eventually, it'll be like his younger sibling got the life and kindness sucked out of them, leaving them burnt out like a poor, unfortunate soul!

And Azul can't and won't let his beloved younger sibling go through that. He won't let [Name] fall from grace so terribly like the people who've broken their end of the deal with him.

And that is what Azul tells [Name] (leaving out the parts that paint Azul as the scheming businessman he is, of course) in an effort and attempt to dissuade his sibling from staying friends with their troublemaking friends.

"Don't you see, my dear sibling? They're only using you and their troublemaking schemes would run your student record through the mud. They're getting you involved in so much drama and troubles, and as your older brother, I'd hate for you to be surrounded by such terrible influences," Azul says.

[Name] frowns a bit. Azul worded it as though they hadn't done anything wrong, which wasn't all that far from the truth, though. However, [Name] also knew that Azul was thinking that they were being dragged against their will to help out, which they weren't.

"Big brother... I'm helping out willingly, because I want to. Besides, they're my friends. Didn't the Sea Witch always help other people? We're Octavinelle students, we must always follow the Sea Witch's values."

[Name] replies. The facts about Octavinelle and the Sea Witch were things that the younger Ashengrotto used to try convincing Azul to let them go.

Azul clicks his tongue, his eyes narrowing as he pushes up his glasses that were starting to fall a bit. "Then perhaps you should try getting better, more behaved friends instead of the ones you have right now. What happened to the well-behaved [Name] I used to know?" Azul mutters under his breath, but [Name] could still hear Azul's words.

[Name] frowns at the last question. "What 'happened' is that life happened, Azul. Not everyone stays the same! I've changed!!"

Azul, however, has difficulty getting behind the thought, shaking his head in denial, "Then change back!! [Name], I want the old you! The one who'd listen and trust me without a second thought! The one who was dependent on me! The one who actually made me feel special!!"

That was the last straw for [Name]. They have grown tired of their older brother trying to keep them the same as they used to when they were a child. Can't Azul just let go of the past? "Well that [Name] is gone!! I'm independent now, Azul! I'm not a child! Stop treating me like one!"

[Name] shouts in a burst of anger, before their eyes widen, not having expected themself to actually blow up like that. Not necessarily regretting it, though, the young Ashengrotto quickly turns away and leaves Azul's office, ignoring their older brother's shouts for them to come back.

---

Azul breathes heavily as he falls to his knees, watching as his younger sibling walks away from him, closing the door behind them. The sight can't help but remind Azul of the time when he and [Name] were separated; just this time, [Name] was being pulled away by their 'friends' instead of their father.

Azul can't believe this!! Did [Name] really just walk away from him?! After everything Azul did in hopes of having his dearest sibling back?! How dare they!

How dare they change! How dare they change so much to the point Azul barely recognizes them! How dare they move on from the past so quickly, as if it didn't bother them! And how dare they even think of choosing their friends over him!

How dare they make him cry! How dare they say words that hurt far more than when those pesky merfolk would bully him!! How dare they leave him there, with tears falling down his eyes and with a heart aching for family!

How dare they, how dare they, how dare they!!

Azul takes a deep breath of resolution, his eyes narrowing behind the glint of his glasses. Never mind, then. He'll show them, he just knows it.

Azul calls the Leech twins over to the office, preparing to make a plan for the upcoming exam season, a list of specific names he wants them to target.

He'll show [Name]. He'll show them that he's right. That big brother knows best.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst platonic #twst sibling reader #twst angst #azul ashengrotto

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derangedanomaly · 4 months

Note

hii!! hope you’re doing well today! how do you think the boys handle a reader on their period? not like stereotypical period stuff where ppl always write the reader aggressive, just like they’re in a lot of pain and are tired and want cuddles? just got mine and it is soo painful i slept till like 1 pm ;n;

Aww, here anon. Let me give ya a hug 🫂

Also, I literally felt the pain right there- I hate periods so much

THE BOYS X READER ON PERIOD

Nightmare:

Nightmare would honestly flinch the first time when you lay on him or show him affection.

He searched for a reason regarding your clinginess, so he read your emotions. You were in a lot of pain at that moment.

He asked you about your pain. The reason for it, and all that. Which you admitted to being on your period.

Nightmare (shockingly) wrapped his tentacles around you, wrapping you in a some sort of a cocoon, acting like your own comforter.

He didn't say much (remember, he's literally the embodiment of negativity), but he did give little squeezes with his tentacles to relive any stress.

He may not have a giant 'heart', but he sure as hell isn't a completely cruel and viscous man.

Chaos:

Chaos also, much like Nightmare, flinched the first time you layed on him.

He turned to you in confusion. "What's the sudden rain of affection, Y/n?" Your only response was a groan, as you tried to explain to him that you were on your period, currently experiencing a lot of pain.

Chaos felt bad..he wanted to relieve your pain, and be there for you all the time! If he could, he'd devote his whole life to you...

Of course the immediate thing he does is hug you tightly, peppering you with kisses all over you. He wants you to know just how much he cherishes you and just how much he wishes for your pain to lessen.

He's going to do everything in his power to make sure you're ok.

Ace:

Ace knew. He always knew. He had once tried to learn the human anatomy, so he has a pretty good idea of what's going on with you when you suddenly fling yourself on him.

That's not to say he's not taken off guard when you effortlessly do that though. He will jump when you throw yourself on him.

Ace would analyze you, everything you're doing, how you're acting, to come to a conclusion. He determines that you must be on your period, going through huge pain.

Ace will know what to do. He's gonna give you a heat pad, some pills to relieve it, anything! Honestly, I'd go to him if you need help with this.

He's gonna hold onto you, silently whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Blade:

Blade would immediately think that you want attention from him. (Which he thrives for, and it boosts his ego)

He's gonna get real confused by your wriggling and shallowed breaths.. after a bit of staring, he'll ask you what's wrong.

He doesn't know much about human anatomy, so he's probably gonna be confused about how to deal with this situation. How do you deal with something like this? He'd ask himself.

Doesn't even know that something like heat pads work..

He's probably only gonna cuddle you tightly, until you tell him to do anything else for you. He's gonna do it if you ask for it. How could he resist his queen?

Ted:

He's not gonna get startled like the others, he won't even question it. He's actually gonna return your hug, with an even tighter one!

He's going to do all the right things, without knowing he does them right.

He's up to anything you ask for. You want to cuddle? Sure. Need a heat pad? All you have to do is ask. Anything you want, he'll do it.

After you explain that you're this cuddly because of pain from your period, he's gonna frown sadly down at you in concern.

Now he does everything even more.

There's not much else to say about him to be honest.. you can't write perfection.

#undertale #undertale fandom #sans undertale #chaos sans #undertale au #utmv #utmv au #nightmare sans #nightmare sans x reader #chaos sans x reader #dust sans #dust sans x reader #killer sans #killer sans x reader #horror sans #horror sans x reader

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fallenangelicss · 1 month

Text

Catching Stray Kisses

PAIRING | Bridget | Queen of Hearts/James Hook

WORD COUNT | 1077

SUMMARY | When bored in class, Briget reverts to people-watching to pass the time. What she didn't expect was to find someone already watching her. The culprit behind it also seems to be pretty good at pulling a rise out of her.

RATING | Teen And Up Audiences

WARNING/TAG(S) | No Archive Warnings Apply

A/N | This is my first time partaking in a month-long prompt list so I'm going to do my best to keep up with it can get as many done as I can. It'll hopefully give me a reason to write more which I desperately need. Also, if you'd like to support me then you should consider downloading the Kinder World app with this link. My referral code is WV9K4X but if you need a new referral code then feel free to reach out!

EVENTS | @aug-kissed | Blow A Kiss

AO3 LINK | Read Here

Bridget sat bored in class, her head resting on one of her hands as her feet kicked back and forth under the desk. As much as she loved Merlin’s classes, they tended to drag on when they weren’t doing any sort of practical work. The singular hour that they were in the room seemed to stretch on for days and it didn’t help at all that it was the last lesson before they were free to do as they pleased.

Ella sat next to her, carefully taking notes as Merlin taught at the front of the room, occasionally writing what seemed to be nonsense on the chalkboard. Bridget knew it would be smarter for her to just pay attention now so she wouldn’t have to beg Ella later for her notes but she couldn’t bring herself to focus on the teacher for more than a few moments at a time, all the information he was spouting going in through one ear and out the other.

It was honestly exhausting just sitting there. Bridget was ready to go up to her dorm and take a nap until dinner time then maybe make some sort of sweet treat afterwards that she could share around. She didn’t know what she would make but she knew she was itching to stand in front of her homemade mini-kitchen and get back to what she loved doing.

Letting her eyes dance around the classroom after they instinctively went back to the clock hanging on one of the walls, seeing how they still had another twenty minutes to go before class was over, Bridget resorted to some sightseeing, attempting to find something that could keep her occupied while she waited for the bell to ring.

Most of the students in the room, like her, seemed to be too bored to comprehend what was happening in front of them which could only be Merlin’s fault as he should’ve known better than to give anyone a theory lesson as their last class on a Friday.

Like most days, Bridget noticed Uliana terrorising some of her classmates with her tentacles, trying to be discreet about it. At her side sat Morgie, which Bridget wasn’t surprised to see. Laughing almost uncontrollably at whatever it was that Uliana did, Morgie was always attempting to be a good villain for her. Another thing Bridget wasn’t surprised to see was Hades and Maleficent sat next to one another, their hands interlocked while Maleficent sketched something on some scrap paper and Hades messed around with some sort of fire magic.

What Bridget was however surprised to see was Hook sitting by himself and staring directly at her. Normally he would be the one sitting next to Uliana, if not he would drag Morgie into the seat next to him so he was never by himself. But to see him alone and staring directly at Bridget was a shock, especially when he didn’t look away once he noticed Bridget had caught onto his stare.

Blinking a few times to make sure she wasn’t seeing things, Bridget came face to face with Hook every time she opened her eyes. Not knowing what to do, a shy smile made its way onto her face to not seem rude under Hook’s stare.

What Hook did next though threw her for a loop.

A smile of his own crept its way onto Hook’s face, the grin being more of a smirk than anything else. His eyes slowly crept up and down Bridget's frame before sending a wink her way, making a pink hue dust her cheeks as she zapped back around and faced the front of the classroom.

“Are you okay,” Ella asked, noting how Bridget was sitting with her spine straight and a flustered expression on her face. Still taking notes as she waited for an answer, Ella’s eyes ticked up to where Bridget was attempting to glance over her shoulder without getting caught and failing to do so. “Did something happen?”

“Nope,” Bridget quickly said, hands coming together and interlocking. Although Ella wasn’t born to much status like Bridget was, she could still notice when someone’s Princess was showing and that was exactly what was happening here as Bridget gushed to herself. Something regarding a boy had just happened and Ella was going to figure out what and who it was no matter what. “Everything is perfectly fine and normal. No reason to be worried at all.”

“Saying that just makes me more suspicious,” Ella warned, noticing how Bridget tensed up a little before sighing, almost as if her resolve was breaking. With just a little more pressure, Bridget would spill everything to her but it seemed like not much effort would be needed from Ella as Bridget was already undoing herself, fidgeting in her seat as she tried not to look back and giveaway who it was. Stopping for a moment before Ella looked back herself to see who it was, she rested a hand on Bridget’s arm and said, “It’s fine Bridget, you can tell me anything. I’m certainly not one to judge you.”

“You’re right,” Bridget smiled, returning the favour and grabbing onto Ella’s wrist, running a thumb over it. “I just noticed someone staring at me and…” “And you think they’re cute?” Ella finished the sentence for her, one of her eyebrows raising at Bridget as she waited for a response. Thinning her lips together, Bridget nodded her head, the blush that was previously coating her cheeks intensifying. “Okay, who is it?”

“Well…” Bridget trailed off, her eyes flicking backwards before looking back at Ella. With a nod of her head in his direction, the two of them looked back at the same time to see Hook still staring at Bridget, the same smirk still coating his face. His eyes didn’t move from Bridget’s face, solely focused on her and not even acknowledging Ella. Raising his hand that wasn’t occupied with a hook, Hook blew a kiss towards Bridget, a chuckle pouring from his mouth when both Bridget and Ella whipped back around.

“Did he just?” Bridget started, not having to finish her sentence for Ella to understand.

“Yeah,” She nodded, just as surprised as Bridget. This was news to Ella. She would have to do a serious amount of stalking and research before she let that pirate anywhere near her friend but for now, it wouldn’t hurt. “Looks like you won’t have to look too hard for a Castlecoming date.”

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midnight-talescape · 1 year

Text

𝒫𝑒𝓉 (𝒮𝓁𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇)

Kinktober Day 11: Pet play + Sensory Deprivation

I had to revert back to my creepypasta phase to write this story, lol.

Bring back memories of when i was like 16ish and had nightmares for days and sleep paralysis of slenderman before waking up and continue reading them, because i have a problem.

Also like i wanted to do humiliation, i tried to do humiliation but like mr daddy long leg, just doesn’t feel like one that will humiliates their sexual partner, so yeah.

Warning: yeah no you got kidnapped, your like a pet now, tentacles, ooc etc, etc you get the point not for kid

Genre: filthy filthy smut

Word Count: 1696

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You were different,

You were always different,

Uncaring and desensitized to the world,

It wasn’t like you didn’t care, because you did,

You were just…disconnected.

From your feelings and your life, always feeling like an outsider as you watch your daily life happen,

Like your soul was an audience that's watching your body acting on a stage…

So when one day you saw a scribbled note on a tree outside your window…

Well, let's just say you didn’t hesitate to take it, despite your entire being telling you to run and get the fuck out of there.

I mean, what is the fun in life if you don’t take a little risk?

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You stare at the tall humanoid being standing in front of you, before looking up at where his face would be if he had one asking,

“Are you going to kill me?” your tone was indifferent and your eyes held no fear, only curiosity of what is to come,

That intrigues him, how does a mortal like you show such indifference to death? Are you not afraid of the things he could do to you?

Out of impulse he slithered out a tentacle and picked you up by your shirt, before walking back to the mansion.

He has enough time on his hands to keep a pet and to test just how far your indifference will go.

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It's been about 3 months since you have been here, and the curiosity Slenderman has for you has only increased.

After all, not all mortals have the audacity to chase Jeff around the mansion with a chainsaw, after being waken up by him saying,

“Go to sleep!”

The first time he saw it, like the very first day he took you back the entire mansion had the pleasure of witnessing you chasing down Jeff while screaming profanity,

“Go to sleep, my ass! You fucking slut! I'm about to make you go to sleep!”

Slenderman watched in amusement as he wrote down in a journal,

Dislike being woken up in the middle of the night.

“Is that my chainsaw???” Ask one of the proxies watching the chaos,

Good at taking stuff without people noticing

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The entire mansion knows you were Slenderman’s pet/property and you seem to take that role with stride. Fitting in almost immediately with the rest of the proxy.

Most of them had tried to kill you at some point, since Slenderman wasn't going to stop them.

Survival of the fittest after all, you might be his pet but your life was not his concern.

But he was pleasantly surprised to see you managing to fight back and survive against the horror that live within his home.

You are truly entertaining...

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And annoying.

So very annoying.

Do you not understand that he could kill you at a moment's notice?

You probably do, and just simply don't care.

He sighed as you sat on his desk and looked at what he was doing curiously,

“Hello, (Y/N).”

“Hello, Slendy. What you doing?” you ask as you look at the paper he’s writing on,

He tilted his blank face toward you, seemingly studying you before saying, "Making a list of things that need to be done,"

You nodded your head before asking again,

“Soooo is the suit you wear an actual suit, or is it your skin? If it's the latter are you naked all the time? If it's the former where have you been getting these suits?”

Dear god, you always seem to have so many questions.

“That is none of your business, pet. I can kill you in a moment's notice, do you not have the concept of self-preservation?” he sounded annoyed by your never-ending questions,

“Nope none at all,” you said cheerfully,

Your smile was bright and cheerful, but he saw nothing in your eyes. Only the cold indifference to the world around you that he has gotten used to in the last few months.

He doesn’t like that, you’re his pet and you should look at him in either adoration or fear. Not the cold indifference in you have in your eyes right now.

He will teach you to either love or fear him, after all, he hasn’t seen either of those emotions on you before.

Your eyes widen and you let out a panicked scream when he suddenly lifted you up with his tentacles.

One of his tentacles wrapped around your throat, a silent warning for you to shut up, while another wrapped around your eyes. Not tight enough for you to be uncomfortable, but enough to make your field of vision nothing but darkness.

“I think it's time to teach you a lesson, pet,”

Your body trembled as Slenderman's tentacle slipped under your clothing to wrap around your body, your body getting goosebumps from the coolness of his tentacle.

“S-slendy? What the fuck are you doing?” you asked trembling unsure of what was happening,

Slenderman didn’t bother answering you, only using his tentacles to rip through your clothing, leaving your body bared and naked under the frigid night air.

You let out a soft gasp/moan as you felt his tentacles curling around various parts of your body tightly. The lack of sight makes your body more sensitive, as you have no idea what he will do to you next, anticipation and fear coursing through your body.

Slenderman can feel your body tensing up as he begins pushing a tentacle into your fold. Your body shaking in pain from his action.

He has heard of humans feeling pleasure and pain from sexual intercourse, yet he never thought to try it out on you.

Never too late to try, I guess…

He does enjoy the soft whimper that you make as his tentacles play with your body, causing a feeling he’s unfamiliar with in his body.

You let out a scream as he shoved the tentacles forcefully into you, your body clenching tightly around his tentacles as he began to thrust them inside you.

“F-fuck! I-I'm sorry okay? You’re hurting me!” You cried out as he spread your leg apart so he can have easier access to your cunt,

As your cry gets louder and louder, Slenderman can tell you are getting close to your climax.

His assumption was correct when you gave a loud whine and your body shuddered violently around his tentacles. Your juice rushed out from around his tentacles, staining his carpet.

He felt pleased when he saw your mouth open panting from the sensation. Your body flushed a delicious pink, as his tentacles played with your body. He dragged you closer to him so he could study your reaction more closely.

"I wonder how would you feel if I played with you like this more often... Would you enjoy it?" His voice was almost void of emotion except for a hint of curiosity as he held you in his arm forcing you to stay still as his tentacles had their way with you,

“F-fuck…s-slendy take it out… i-im sorry okay? I-i will be good…” you sobbed out desperately as you tried to hold on to him,

With an almost unexpected spark of amusement and curiosity from your reaction, Slenderman pulled his tentacles out of you, leaving you writhing in discomfort and confusion. Just as you try to catch your breath, he slams his tentacle back into you harder than before, causing you to cry out in pain and shock.

As he watches your body convulse on his tentacle, he decides that he enjoys the feeling of doing this to you, to watch you struggle and cry on his tentacles. To watch you who, is usually indifferent to what people do to you, reduce to a crying begging mess.

“Have you learned your lesson, pet?” He asked as he forced multiple tentacles inside you,

You let out a loud desperate cry as you came over and over on his tentacle,

“Y-yes! I learn my lesson, ma-master please!”

The pleasure was breaking your mind and your shell, it was forcing your soul to endure this painful pleasure as Slenderman dealt out his lesson and punishment toward you.

With a dark chuckle, Slenderman watched as you writhed and cried in pain. Your back arched as your body clenched his tentacles tightly. He wondered if you had ever felt such pleasure before, or if you even enjoyed it. Regardless of your feelings, it was his duty to torment his pet in any way he pleased.

The pleasure built inside you, becoming unbearable as your insides trembled from the brutal way he was fucking his tentacles inside you. Your mind is fogged, and you can only scream for it to stop.

As you let out another sob, your body climaxing again, Slenderman finally removed all his tentacles from you, before holding you in his arm.

You sobbed into his chest, your body feeling like it's been abused and run over. You can feel his hand on your back in an almost comforting motion.

Slenderman wrapped his arms around your trembling form, feeling the faint pulse of life against his chest. His mind was filled with curiosity, desire, satisfaction, and a lingering fascination for human pleasure.

He decided that he liked having you feel like this, to have your eyes all glassy as you looked up at him.

To feel like he has tainted and dragged you into the darkness that surrounded him.

You hiccuped one last time as your body calmed down, before slipping your hand under his suit and saying,

“S-so this is an actual suit…” you looked down at the black secretion on your body that was left behind by his tentacles as you continued, “A-are these like your cum? I think there's some inside me, will I get pregnant?”

As you rambled on Slenderman can feel a vein throbbing in his forehead…

Why are you like this?

His arms tighten around you as he begins carrying you to his bedroom, taking care to make sure no one sees the two of you.

“It seems like you need another lesson, pet…”

He has all the time in the world to teach you how to obey him and to discover everything you have to offer…

#no i don’t have problems #reader insert #reader smut #x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #slenderman x reader #slenderman x y/n #slenderman x you

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