#I just like how they can kinda look like me (long and stretched out) (except I’m a little fat)
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sturn777 · 12 hours ago
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How would fb!chris react to dealer!reader mentioning another guy casually??
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dealer!reader mentions another guy to fb!chris . | ( female!reader ) wc ?? ( masterlist ) + ( request )
lana's note : i hope u guys enjoy this ! and pls keep on sending reqs or js anything to my inbox, i rlly appreciate it <3 .
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you’re sprawled out on chris’ bed, your phone in one hand, the other resting lazily on your stomach. the glow from your screen is the only light aside from the warm lamp on his desk. he’s sitting at the edge of the bed, hoodie loose, blunt dangling between his fingers. the window’s cracked open, letting the cool night air mix with the thick haze of smoke. it’s quiet except for the occasional sound of chris inhaling, the low hum of a song playing on his speaker in the corner.
“so,” you start, eyes still glued to your screen, voice laced with something casual but calculated. “you know austin?” chris doesn’t look at you right away. he exhales a slow stream of smoke, head tilted back slightly, his posture as relaxed as ever. “nah,” he says after a beat. “who’s that?”
“just this guy,” you say, biting back a grin. “met him at a party last week. he’s kinda cute. funny, too.” his head turns slightly, just enough for you to catch the flicker of irritation in his eyes before he looks away again. “cute, huh?”
“yeah,” you say, rolling onto your side to face him, your phone abandoned on the mattress. “he asked me to hang out sometime. i might.” chris snorts, flicking ash into the tray beside him. his tone is casual, but there’s an edge to it. “yeah, sure. sounds like a real good time. bet he’s one of those nice guys, huh? the ones that’ll buy you flowers and all that corny shit.”
you raise an eyebrow, your lips curling into a smirk. “what’s your problem?” you tease, leaning up on your elbow. “you mad or something?”
“mad? nah,” he says, but the sharp way he takes another hit of the blunt says otherwise. “just funny. you don’t strike me as the flowers and hand-holding type.”
“oh yeah?” you challenge, your voice a little softer, more dangerous now. “and what type am i?” he turns to you fully then, his eyes dragging over you in a way that makes your skin heat. he’s taking his time, letting the silence stretch before he answers.
“you’re the type that likes it messy,” he says finally, his voice low and gravelly. “you like the fights, the drama, the shit that keeps you on your toes.” your breath catches, but you won’t let him see that. instead, you lean back again, smirking. “so, what? you think you’re the only one who can handle me?”
he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he stubs out the blunt, his movements slow and deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. when he looks back at you, his eyes are darker, heavier. “nah,” he says, leaning in closer, his voice dropping. “i don’t think. i know.”
before you can respond, his hand is on the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss that’s anything but gentle. it’s all teeth and tongue, and it knocks the air out of your lungs. your phone tumbles off the bed as you grab at his hoodie, pulling him closer, like that’s even possible.
“you’re such a dick,” you mutter against his mouth, your words barely audible.
“yeah?” he murmurs back, his lips trailing down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. his hands are already under your shirt, his palms rough and warm as they slide up your sides.
you don’t argue. instead, you tug at his hoodie, frustrated with how much space it’s putting between you. he helps you pull it off, tossing it somewhere onto the floor before pressing his weight against you, his mouth finding yours again.
his hands roam, and it’s not long before your shirt joins the pile of clothes on the floor. his lips are everywhere—your neck, your collarbone, the soft curve of your shoulder. every kiss, every bite, feels like a claim, like he’s reminding you exactly who you belong to, even if neither of you would dare say it out loud.
“austin, huh?” he mutters against your skin, his voice thick with amusement now, but there’s still that edge of irritation underneath. you laugh breathlessly, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling, just enough to make him groan. “forget austin,” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper.
“yeah,” he mutters, his lips brushing against yours. “that’s what i thought.” and then there’s no more talking, just the sound of breathing and the rustle of sheets as he shows you exactly why no one even comes close to him.
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taglist : ( @emely9274 ; @bluestriips ; @loveparqdise ; @flouqissss ; @st4rcs ; @starwebber9 ; @conspiracy-ash ; @sweetrelieef ; @chris-hallelujah ; @leoslaboratory ; @matttsangel )
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hauntingblue · 2 months ago
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You guys think the one piece movies are on letterboxd?
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#or are they not cinema.....#my letterboxd user is the same as this one yes... you can see it but you cant laugh. i will know#talking tag#watching heart of gold bc i didnt back then but now i have nothing to watch so here we are#i was like this is not worth it... but now i am famished#is this fucking gernica??? hello what the fuck is he doing here#the girl's design and animation is so different it looks like it doesn't belong there... its so strange...#how is gernica getting beat up by this no name... use tekkai or something like damn...#luffy using meat as bait??? ooc... we would never give it away like that...#*luffy being taken hostage* everyone: 😐#sanjis cunty off white turtleneck.... slay also it feels like they are stretching the scenes... this is a movie come on now#what the hell is sanji wearing now... rip off white turtleneck....#COME ON NOW!! what are robin and nami wearing..... enough!!!! fanservice (this one not the one i like) is a plague upon this earth#this feels like an animation test for wano... it looks kinda similar except the backgrounds#so they were all free and didn't try to escape but most importantly is that brook wouldnt be bothered by the arrows bc he is dead indeed#“i just used them [your crew] as tools” didn't we get past this in arlong park... come on now give me something original something new#murder suicide </3 not again.... nevermind it did not work... massive L. *j bieber voice*:hah... i love that laugh... CHIAAAA LALALALALA#luffy one shot this man. come on now that is this nonsense....#gear 3 his ass out of here. also funny how zoro went for the woman... he knows#the ahots of nami and robins unimpressed faces when pirate franky shows up akshakajai... nobody (everyone but them) moved#sanjis cunty chunky bracelet... where does this come from... his gay ass closet of course....#omg he did gear 3 one shot him akdhakshsk i do know him don't i... omg he got dissolved akdhakajak#but how did the father survive without pure gold?? lmao#so this was the gold film prequel.... i see i thought it was the other way around#alright.... kinda mid and too long. strong world clears and gold was kinda better too bc of nami lesbianism. final review#watching one piece#watching one piece movies
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candycryptids · 10 months ago
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Lord help me I cannot make another ffxiv oc I have MANY I DO NOT—
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tootiecakes234 · 1 year ago
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Warning: a little smutty
For some reason Katsuki isn’t the most confident in the way he looks. Not that he thinks he’s unattractive, but he sees his body as more of a tool to accomplish his goals than anything.
So when he starts dating you, you can imagine his hesitation when you’re constantly telling him how hot you think he is.
He’s in the kitchen making breakfast half naked when you walk by and smack his ass. “Damn ma, you got a girlfriend?”
“What the hell are you talking about, and keep your grabby hands to your fucking self!” He said it like he was pissed but there was a blush spreading across his face.
You guys are in missionary and his face is so focused and lust filled.
“Kats, you l-look so sexy right now. I’m gonna cum just looking at you.”
His hips stutter and the blush this time spreads all the way down to his chest. And then you do, you cum for him and he’s mesmerized. Buries his face in your neck “oh fuuuuccckkkk…” he cums with you.
He just got back home from work and he’s all sweaty and covered in dirt. You rush him as soon as the front door closes. He stretches his arms out to catch and hold you at a distance.
“I’m fucking gross right now. Let me go shower and then you can hug me all ya want.
“Would you call me crazy if I told you you look edible right now Kit Kat??” You say looking at him like he’s a full course meal. “Maybe I can help you take that shower”
The next thing you know you’re thrown over his shoulder and he’s smacking your ass.
“Yea I would call you crazy but I knew that when I started dating your ass.” He carries you to the bathroom and strips you and himself.
You and Katsuki are out with your friends and a really hot guy walks by.
“Wow, y/N look. Isn’t he gorgeous??”, Mina asked you.
“Yea he’s ok, but everybody kinda dulls in comparison when you’re dating “sex on a stick” himself, ya know?”
Everyone in the group starts laughing except Katsuki who’s looking at you with the face the color of a ripe tomato.
“What the hell is your problem, sayin embarrassing shit like that out loud?! Hey! Shut the hell up all of you!”
Lmao he acts like he hates it, but if you ever stopped he doesn’t know what the hell he would do. He couldn’t give af what anyone else thinks, as long as you thought he was good looking, he believed it 100%
Katsuki Masterlist
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lale-txt · 22 days ago
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❦ IDLE HANDS (Kuroo x f!reader)
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Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two.
a/n: little something for @husbandograveyard ♡ writing this made me a Kuroo girlie. i get it now. i really, REALLY do. also when i started writing this i was aiming for 1k or so idk what possessed me but here we are. maybe listening to bouncy while writing this wasn't the best idea (lie)
tags: f!reader, mild enemies to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, shameless flirting, food mention, bit of a slow burn, they're so in love your honor
wc: 3.7k
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Kuroo Tetsuro is a heartthrob.
With his stupid messy hair and his stupid rolled up sleeves, showing off his stupid toned arms while he’s mumbling stupid sweet things to your favorite cat that’s currently coiling underneath his stupid big hand, getting the best belly rubs of her life from the looks of it. 
It’s not like you’re jealous or something, no; it’s just that you’ve been coming to this cat café for a year now and you thought you and the calico shared a special bond. Maru, who is just as her name implies, very round and very soft, has been sitting and purring by your side while you spend hours typing page after page of your next book. She’d also stretch out all over your laptop and remind you to take a break when you’ve been going at it for hours. Yes, it took you some bribery to win her heart but over the past months she really warmed up to you. Wow, she usually isn’t this friendly with people, you remember the café owner say once. 
What a blatant lie. 
Your peace has been disturbed. A slight shift in the universe when he showed up for the first time merely a week ago. It was easy to remember him, because he was sitting in your spot with your favorite cat purring in his lap, looking like he didn’t have a single worry in the world except maybe that untamed hair of his (and even this was kind of charming, you had to admit begrudgingly).
Sharing usually wasn’t a big deal for you–until it was. You come to this cat café almost every day, feeling much more inspired to write here than in the shoebox you call your apartment at the other end of town. Your landlady doesn’t allow pets, so this place has been a lifeline in the tiring times of deadlines and rejected book deals. At the end of the day there was always a cat rubbing against your legs, reminding you that not everything was bad and that no matter how severe things got, there was always a kitty waiting to be picked up.
You hold this place very dear to your heart, a secret gem you felt a need to protect. It is hidden away in a side street, far from the hectic buzz of the city. The interior is cozy, it isn’t too big and the owner, an elderly lady with candy cotton hair and knuckle tattoos, lives upstairs and treats the place like her second living room with all six of her cats. There’s never too many other guests around and in the corner seat by the window you can unravel your thoughts quietly. It feels homey, something you haven’t felt in a long time.
But now there is an intruder in a business suit and you didn’t really know how to deal with that new found irritation.
“That’s my spot.”
Balancing your laptop, notebook, a slice of carrot cake and a hot drink in one hand, all manners aside, you point at the stranger with your other. In your right mind you know it is rude to point at people, but to be fair he kinda started it by sitting where you rightfully belong. His eyes, a certain gleam in them, follow your movement down to the cat curled up on top of his thighs. With the amount of cat hair sticking to his suit pants you could only pray for him that he had a lint roller somewhere at his desk. 
He cocks his head to the side, giving you a boyish smirk that maybe would make your heart skip a beat if it wasn’t for his audacity. 
“Usually I ask someone’s name first and take them on a few dates before I let them sit in my lap, but I guess I can make an exception,” he replies and you never in your life before wanted to strangle someone so badly. If that wasn’t already worse enough, the tuxedo cat lifts its small head and slowly blinks at you before jumping down from his lap, as if it was trying to make space for you. My bad, didn’t know this seat was taken. Here, girl, you have it.
For once in your life you’re too stunned to speak. You watch the stranger check his watch and let out an almost inaudible sigh before he grabs his backpack (one that looks like he has had it since high school) and stands up to full height. He’s in your space now and you have to crank your neck slightly to meet his eyes. Mentally you’re adding stupidly tall to your list of things you hate about him. 
“Gotta get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
True to his words he is there the next day, too. This time around you managed to secure your spot by the window, three cats idly sleeping next to you on. You’ve been stuck on a paragraph for almost an hour now when the doorbell chimes and his figure appears at the counter. The cats look up with interest but you force yourself not to pay any attention to him, which is hard when his order is literally “I’ll have whatever she is having”, followed by a nod in your direction and this cheeky smile again. 
This damn smile.
“You didn’t strike me as a dirty chai drinker,” you deadpan when he takes a seat at the table next to yours. The café is almost empty around this time of the day, which is no surprise since most of the workers in this district are having a hearty meal for lunch and not whatever sweet delicacies this place is offering. 
He peels himself out of his suit jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. The same cat as yesterday jumps into his lap immediately after he sits down, giving you a look of “if you don’t want him, I’ll take him” and you almost roll your eyes. Kuroo (you learn his name from the ID he is wearing around his neck) seems to notice and he grins at you. 
“Then what did I strike you as?” he asks, his chin resting in one hand while his other finds the soft fur of the kitty, stroking it gently. 
You look him up and down, now taking your time while stretching out the silence between you two. Only the purring of the cats and the soft music in the background could be heard. At first glance he seems like your typical office worker in the three piece suit who spends his time filling out spreadsheets and drinking cheap vending-machine coffee from the conbini next door. Everything a little rumpled, himself included, someone so used to tristesse he doesn’t even notice it anymore. 
Only at second glance do you notice the small wrinkles around his eyes, not from age but from laughter. The dimples when he smiles down at the tuxedo cat in his lap, now showing off its belly. His calloused hands, atypical for an office worker, more like you’d see them at craftsmen or athletes. Something in his eyes that radiates warmth and an air of calm confidence. None of it is unpleasant.
“If I had to guess, maybe three espresso with a pump of caramel and honey,” you say, more to yourself than to him. Kuroo looks at you in surprise before barking out a laugh. You hate how you like the sound of it.
It’s the beginning of spring and you award Kuroo Tetsuro the title of the greatest nuisance you’ve ever met.
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In the midst of summer, you pity him. 
“I’m just saying that maybe you radiate a natural fragrance of catnip,” you say as you stir your iced oat milk latte. Kuroo got you that one when he popped in during his lunch break and saw that your glass must have been empty for a while. By that time you were hunched over your laptop, trying to decipher your notes from last night. You had saved him a seat at your table, but if he asked you, you’d say you just happened to put all your belongings on one chair and nothing more.
The man is swarmed by the cats of the café. They didn’t even bother to hide who their favorite is, rubbing around his legs, sitting pressed to his side or just straight up climbing his shoulders. It would’ve been enviable if he wasn’t already sweating from wearing a suit in the humid heat of the summer month alone. 
“Can you get at least one or two off me?” he asks and his tone is close to pleading. It makes you laugh as you stretch out in your light sundress, giving him a look as if you’re contemplating his question. 
“I could, but it’s really much funnier seeing you struggle like that. Serves you well,” you chime and pull out your phone, snapping a photo of this moment. You hold it up for him to see, a kitty phone charm dangling from it (they just happened to come in a pack of two and you gifted him one out of generosity, nothing more). He snatches it from your hands and makes a face.
“So you like seeing me suffer, is that how it is?” he snarls at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His slender fingers fly over the screen of your phone and you let out a small gasp.
“Don’t you dare delete it,” you huff and grab the orange tabby mercifully off his shoulders so you can lean over him better. 
“Relax. I’m only saving my contact info since you never bothered asking me for it despite being my constant for the past three months.”  
There was this cheeky smile again. You blame the flutter of your heart on the caffeine and not the way his pupils are dilating when he gazes at you. 
He loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt slightly, just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. Suddenly you’re very aware of how close you’re leaning over at him. Kuroo gives you a little glance from the corner of his eyes and taps the now revealed side of his neck. 
“What do you say? Do I really smell like catnip?” 
Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two. You can feel the heat radiating off him and for a brief moment you wonder what it would feel like to press open mouth kisses on his skin. Your eyes flutter shut as you engrave this moment into your heart. 
“Definitely irresistible,” you murmur once you pull back–reluctantly, as if a hidden part of you ached to be in his proximity, in the inside of his soul.  
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By autumn you miss him on the days when he was gone. 
He traveled quite a lot. You didn’t know one would need to be on the road so much for something as simple as volleyball (you can imagine the look he’d give you over this). But he was passionate about it and that’s also something you liked about him. The way he talks about the sport holds so much love and you wonder what it would feel like to be loved by a man like Kuroo Tetsuro.
Gentle, you think. Honest. Treasured.
A tap against the window pulls you out of your thoughts and when you look up, you're met with a pair of honey glazed eyes. Whatever he sees when he looks at you, it’s making him grin from ear to ear before he hurries towards the entry door, eager to meet you again.
Kuroo is holding up a bag, some brand of sweets from Hokkaido he’s been texting you about, but you didn’t think he’d actually go so far and bring you some. He sounds breathless when he speaks, as if he rushed all the way to get here and when he keeps on rambling, you order him and yourself a hot matcha boba and a chocolate mousse to share. 
The cats are happy to see him back too, and you laugh when you help him take his scarf off before some kitty claws can tangle up in it. It was a precious gift after all, one you knitted for him, under the feeble excuse of “keeping my hands busy helps me come up with ideas for my writing process”. It makes you happy to see him wearing it, and the color makes you feel as if you took the red string of fate connecting you two and turned it into something to help him stay warm.
You think a lot about kissing him now. Sometimes your hands would brush against each other on the table, neither of you pulling away. He spends his lunch breaks with you and comes to pick you up from the café in the evening, walking you to your station. The two of you still bicker at each other, but underneath lies a certain kind of softness, one that feels too fickle to put it into words just yet but also too bright to ignore. The leaves of the trees are falling and so are you. 
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With winter comes snow and the quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, it’s unadulterated love. 
You spend a lot of time huddled together in the corner by the window now. He looks over your shoulder when you type on your laptop, one arm resting idly on the back of your chair, fingertips brushing against your spine sometimes. You don’t think he even notices when he lets them run up and down there. Often you forget which cups on the table belong to who but it doesn’t matter since you order the same things anyway and because this could count as an indirect kiss, right? 
On some days he’d just close his eyes and laze next to you, with his head resting on his folded arms on the table and your fingers idly weaving through his hair, before he had to hurry back to work. On others he would tell you excitedly about a special match he was organizing and you can hear the pure joy in his voice. It’s contagious.You get them now, the cats. How drawn they are to him, like chasing sunbeams. 
He spells L-O-V-E on your back with his fingertips and something inside of you softens. 
Then there’s snow, more snow than you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and Kuroo comes to pick you up early, the tip of his ears bright red and his cold hands seeking yours to warm them up. 
“I’m really sorry but I’m closing the shop early today,” the café owner apologizes and puts a box of cinnamon rolls for you on your table. “You two kittens better hurry and get home, too. On the radio they said they’re gonna shut everything down soon.”
It can’t be that bad, you think. But when Kuroo and you stand in front of the closed station, it dawns on you that maybe you’ve underestimated the amount of snow a teeny tiny bit. You huddle a little closer to him for warmth and to shield yourself against the snow as you pull out your phone. 
“If there’s no more trains running, I better start looking for a place to stay. With some luck there’s still a few vacant rooms in the hotels nearby…”
Kuroo puts a hand over your screen and gives you a stern look when you open our mouth to protest. 
“You can crash at my place for the night. I live close by," he mutters and it doesn’t really leave room to decline his offer. Maybe it’s not really an offer to begin with; more of a silent pleading to stay. Not just for the duration of the snowstorm, but forever maybe. 
His place is just like you imagined it would be like. Not overly spacious but it feels like a home in every corner. There’s photos on the wall, back from when he was a kid to his high school and college years, and pinned with a magnet to the fridge is also a polaroid he took of you back in summer. In it you’re laughing about something silly he said and you’re holding up two cats at once, one strap of your sundress almost slipping down your shoulder. You still remember how he fixed it for you because you didn’t have a hand free and how his fingers lingered for longer than necessary. 
You hope one day he won’t pull his hand away anymore.
The apartment is certainly not messy but you can see he lives in this place, with some papers scattered across the coffee table and the unmade bed and the slightly concerning stock of buldak noodles in the kitchen shelves (in which you peeked out of curiosity into while he was in the shower). You imagine yourself living here, too. Maybe you’d get a cat on your own and plants for the balcony once this winter was over. 
The laundry machine rumbles quietly in the background after you step out of the bathroom, too. It wasn’t just the steamy shower that had your cheeks feel hot, it was also his clothes that he put out for you, with his scent lingering on them and engulfing you softly. Kuroo appears with two cups from the kitchen and pauses when he sees you, his mouth opening and closing again as his eyes flicker over your form. He doesn’t want to stare but also he does want to stare, wants to drink you in and memorize every detail of this moment. 
You can see his Adam's apple bop slightly when he swallows and nods over to the couch, and it’s at this moment that you know you’re not leaving this apartment again before every inch of your skin has been plastered in kisses. 
“It’s not as good as the one’s at the café but I tried my best for my special guest,” he laughs quietly when he hands you your cup, his fingers brushing against yours. The hot chocolate looks impossibly sweet, with whipped cream and sprinkles on top (they’re not ordinary sprinkles, you realize, but tiny cat shaped ones), and the first sip would’ve been enough to send you in some higher spheres if you weren’t in a state of bliss due to his proximity already. You put the cups to cool down on the coffee table and sink into the couch. 
Outside the snow is falling relentlessly, muffling the sounds of the outside world and opening up a new one, right here in these four walls.
In his arms. 
Without realizing you both settled down in your now familiar positions, only closer this time. Huddled next to each other, with one of his arms around your shoulder drawing you nearer to him. It feels natural, the way your head comes to rest against his shoulder and your legs thrown over his lap, the two of you sharing a blanket. 
He’s warm. Kuroo is so warm. 
And when he presses a fleeting kiss on top of your head it’s like everything is falling in place; the months of pining and yearning and unspoken desire. In the midst of a snowstorm both of your hearts are set ablaze, with a tenderness you haven’t experienced in this lifetime before. You sure hope he will find you in the next and the one after that as well because you never want to miss his embrace ever again. 
“That’s my spot,” you murmur and Kuroo laughs, the kind with his head tilted back and his chest rumbling. His grip around you tightens and he pulls you impossibly closer, till you’re really in his lap now, your head tucked under his chin. 
“Damn right it is.” 
You can feel his heart drum, or maybe it’s your own that’s doing somersaults–either way, it’s the same rhythm, a steady thrumming and rattling, begging to be felt. Time seems to freeze at this moment and you’re both quiet. Cat’s got your tongue. Kuroo has both arms around you now, and one of his hands settles on your waist, at the part where your sweatshirt is bunched up a little. His thumb draws small patterns against your bare skin, his touch featherlight and gentle.
You lift your head, only enough so you can catch his gaze. For the first time in your life you understand what it means to have your heart in your throat, because he takes your breath away with a simple glance. His other hand comes to rest against your cheek, cupping your face softly while his grip around your waist tightens a fraction.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters and you can see his sharp teeth flash in the corner of your eyes when he laughs. 
“Like what?” “You know what.” “I think I’ll need to have it spelled out for me.”
He laughs again and this time he leans in closer till his breath is fanning over your skin and everything is happening all at once. Honey and caramel eyes asking you to drown in them. The heat of his body mingling with yours. Your fingers playing with the shaved part of hair in the back of his neck, sending small shivers down his spine.
“Oh, I’ll spell it out for you alright.”
Kuroo kisses you with all the gentleness of the world. It feels as natural as if he had done this countless times before, as if he had kissed you in every life prior to that. He hums into the kiss and smiles when your lips part for him so willingly, and then he deepens the kiss in a way that makes you forget your name for a heartbeat or two. 
Sweet, you think. Soft and saccharine. And warm. So warm. The same what loving Kuroo feels like.
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yeetus-feetus · 7 months ago
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Duke is a much smaller Duke one day, he's lost all his memories beyond the young age he is now and he's scared and confused.
He doesn't know where is. But then there's Tim, his Robin! And suddenly everything is ok.
The bats have no idea what's going on, but Duke refuses to go to anyone but Tim. He's also a little ball of energy bouncing off all the walls, and Tim is SO tired. "Robin- Tim, come play tag with me!"
One night Tim ends up passing out at his desk, a sleeping Duke cuddling into him on his lap.
Except when Duke wakes up Tim is small too.
And he doesn't remember who Duke is!!
So Duke reintroduces himself and Tim let's himself be dragged downstairs to the actually Batcave!
Bruce is looking at them in absolute astonishment, they're so small!!
Damian laughs at Tim's smallness and Tim gives a cold glare. Maybe age can't change some things.
"where are Nightwing and the new Robin?" Tim asks.
"I'm Robin."
"no, I meant Jason!" Tim huffs and crosses his arms. Ah, he's so young he still believes Jay is Robin.
Duke is still clinging to him, but Tim can't bring himself to mind all too much.
Bruce doesn't know how to handle these boys, between a hyperactive Duke and an absolute menace Tim.
Dick tries to help, but even he can't keep up with the mischief and shenanigans they get up to together.
"dick pick us up!"
"yeah! Pick us up pick us up! And swing us around until we get dizzy!"
"again!"
"again!"
It's time to bring out the big guns, and by that they mean calling Jason over to the manor.
Tim settles immediately, but Duke remains overly weary around the large man with guns strapped to his thighs. He's kinda scary.
But Tim likes Jason well enough. At some point he ends up cuddled up with Jason who's stretched out on the couch, and Duke is just a little bit jealous.
"hey stop hogging him! Tim is mine," Duke pouts.
Jason raises an eyebrow at the boy, and Tim tilts his head. "You know there's enough room for both of us up here, right? Jason is a lot bigger than he used to be."
Duke considers this. "Mm okay, but only because you're up there". And he climbs up into Jason's lap to cuddle into Tim's side.
It's calm for a moment, until Duke starts to fidget, not able to stay still for too long. Jason let's put an annoyed noise and looks at them over the top of his book. "Would you quit it I'm tryna read here".
"what are you reading?" Duke asks.
"Macbeth."
Tim scrunched his nose up. "Why are you reading that?"
"I like it. Reminds me of school", and Tim catches something in his tone that Duke absolutely doesn't.
"it sounds silly. Will you red it to us?"
Jason looks at the both of them for a very long moment before signing. "Sure, but you've gotta stay still, your knees are already in my ribs."
The three of them all end up falling asleep like that, tucked into the lounge and curled up together.
Except when they wake up in the morning, Jason is scrawny little boy, even smaller than Tim and Duke.
Tim explains what he can to the tiny Jason as Duke sneaks some snacks from the kitchen cupboard for them.
Cass catches them stuffing their faces with junk food and squeals. "Three baby brother's now!" And scoops them all up as the quick and try to squirm away.
"gotta tell B"
"wait who are you exactly?" Jason asks.
"big sister", Cass smiles and pets his curls.
"no way! Really? That's so cool, I've never had a big sister before", he exclaims.
Cass carries all three of them down to the Batcave because she's so strong and awesome! And Jason can't believe he ends up with such a cool sister.
"Batman!!!" Jason shouts in pure excitement, and Bruce turns around and almost cries.
Because look how small!! Oh baby Jay lad!! So precious and smol!
"I think the de-aging syndrome may be contagious", Tim speaks up. "You should have us all properly quarantined until you can find a cure."
quarantine is fun, for Jason and Tim at least (tiny Tim is plotting revenge on whoever caused this, Jason is reading and occasionally shouting at the characters). Duke can't stand having to stay still in the same one room for so long.
idk where this is going, but consider this awesome 3am idea of mine
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solxamber · 2 months ago
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hiii~ I saw that you had the tray open 👀 I liked the request about reader angel so I was wondering if I could request something similar with reader being a cherub but a mischievous and rebellious version in addition to keeping his nature a secret and pretending to be a human? (for Jamil, Rook, Vil and Lilia) thanks in advance and have a good day ^^)/
Jamil, Rook, Vil, Lilia with a Cherub! reader.
thank you for the request, I hope you like it!
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Jamil Viper
Jamil had always suspected there was something odd about you. It wasn’t just your tendency to show up exactly when something chaotic was about to happen, but the way you somehow managed to always diffuse situations with that sly smile of yours—like you were pulling the strings from behind the scenes. You, on the other hand, were doing your best to pretend you were just another student at NRC.
One day, as he was wrapping up a particularly stressful training session with Kalim, you approached him with your signature grin, holding out what looked like a poorly wrapped sandwich.
“What’s this?” Jamil asked, raising an eyebrow.
“A peace offering,” you said, your eyes twinkling mischievously. “I noticed you’ve been a little, uh, tense.”
Jamil sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Gee, I wonder why…”
You chuckled, nudging him with your elbow. “Come on, Jamil, lighten up! Not everything has to be so serious.”
Jamil eyed you suspiciously but took the sandwich. As soon as he bit into it, his eyes widened. “This… this is amazing,” he said, shocked at how something that looked so amateur could taste so perfect.
“Yeah, well, let’s just say I have my ways,” you said, your smile growing wider. “What? You think I’m just some normal person who stumbled into this school?”
Jamil gave you a sharp look. “Wait… you aren’t just a regular student?”
You wiggled your eyebrows. “I’ll give you a hint: I’m kinda like your own personal guardian angel, except I’m not great at the ‘innocent’ part.”
He blinked, trying to process this. “You’re… an angel?”
“A cherub, technically,” you corrected. “But, you know, I got bored of playing by the rules.”
Jamil stared at you for a long moment, then sighed, shaking his head. “Of course. The one person who actually makes sense around here, and you turn out to be an actual celestial being.”
You grinned, leaning in a little closer. “Don’t worry, I’m on your side.”
Jamil couldn’t help but laugh, the stress from his day melting away as he looked at you. “I’ll hold you to that. Just… maybe don’t tell Kalim?”
“Not a word,” you promised, but your mischievous smile told him that you might not be as innocent as you claimed.
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Rook Hunt
Rook had an uncanny ability to sense when someone wasn’t being entirely truthful, and that’s exactly why you loved teasing him. Every time you managed to dodge one of his questions about your past, you could practically feel his intrigue grow.
One afternoon, as you lounged under a tree in the courtyard, Rook approached you with his usual theatrical flair. “Ah, mon cher! The enigma that is you continues to captivate me.”
You grinned up at him, enjoying the attention. “What can I say? I like keeping things interesting.”
Rook knelt beside you, resting his chin on his hand. “But who are you, really? I’ve noticed the way you move, the way you always seem to be in the right place at the right time… surely, you cannot be just another student.”
You stretched out lazily, tilting your head as if considering whether to tell him. “What if I said I’m a cherub, here to cause a little mischief?”
Rook’s eyes gleamed with delight. “A cherub, you say? How fascinating! And yet, cherubs are known for their innocence, are they not?”
You laughed, sitting up to meet his gaze. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m the black sheep of the cherubs. Got tired of sitting around and watching people from afar.”
Rook looked absolutely enchanted. “Ah, how marvelous! A rebellious angel, seeking thrills among mortals. You truly are one of a kind, mon cher.”
You leaned in a little closer, your playful smile never fading. “Maybe I just wanted to keep an eye on you, Rook.”
He placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “To think that such a celestial being would take an interest in me… I am truly honored.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at how easily he fell into your playful banter. “Just don’t expect me to be all fluffy wings and harps, alright?”
Rook’s smile was dazzling as he leaned closer. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
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Vil Schoenheit
Vil was far too observant for his own good, which made hiding your true nature as a cherub a bit of a challenge. You had to be careful, constantly balancing your mischievous streak with maintaining your “normal” student cover.
But one day, as you were sitting in the dorm lounge, Vil glanced at you, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re hiding something,” he said, not bothering to soften the accusation.
You gave him your most innocent smile. “Who, me? What could I possibly be hiding?”
Vil crossed his arms, his gaze never leaving yours. “Don’t play coy with me. I’ve seen the way you handle certain situations with… a peculiar ease.”
You tilted your head, still smiling. “Maybe I’m just good at handling things.”
“Or maybe you’re something more,” he countered, his tone sharp but curious. “Perhaps even something… supernatural?”
You laughed, unable to help yourself. “You’re too good, Vil. Fine, you caught me. I’m a cherub.”
Vil blinked, momentarily taken aback. “A cherub? You’re telling me you’re an angel?”
“Technically,” you said, still grinning. “But don’t get any ideas. I’m not the pure, innocent type.”
Vil stared at you for a moment longer before sighing. “Why am I not surprised?”
You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand. “Maybe because I’m always one step ahead of you?”
Vil smirked, clearly amused despite himself. “That’s a bold claim. And what, pray tell, is your goal here?”
“Maybe I just wanted to see what it’s like to live among humans,” you replied, your voice taking on a more serious tone. “You’d be surprised how different things look from up there.”
Vil watched you carefully, clearly intrigued. “I see. Well, whatever your reason, I can’t deny that you certainly know how to make an impression.”
You winked at him. “Only the best for you, Vil.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Flattery will get you nowhere. But I suppose I’ll allow you to stay… for now.”
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Lilia Vanrouge
Lilia was no stranger to magic and strange beings, which made it a little too easy for you to keep your secret from him. After all, he’d probably just laugh it off, right?
One day, while the two of you were sitting together after a particularly chaotic training session with Sebek, you decided to drop a little hint about your true nature.
“You know,” you began, leaning back on the bench, “I’m not exactly what I seem.”
Lilia raised an eyebrow, his mischievous smile already in place. “Oh? And what, pray tell, are you hiding?”
You smirked, deciding to go for it. “I’m a cherub. But, you know, the rebellious type.”
Lilia burst out laughing, clapping his hands together in delight. “Ah, I knew there was something different about you! A cherub with a mischievous streak? How delightful!”
You shrugged, grinning. “Got bored of sitting around and being all pure and innocent. Figured causing a little trouble might be more fun.”
Lilia’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Well, you’ve certainly found the right place for that. And here I thought you were just an ordinary human.”
You leaned closer, your voice teasing. “Do I look ordinary to you?”
Lilia chuckled, his smile widening. “Hardly. You’re quite the fascinating creature, aren’t you?”
You winked. “I try.”
Lilia gave you a sly look. “Well, if you ever tire of causing mischief alone, you know where to find me.”
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Masterlist
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mariasont · 8 months ago
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hi !!!!! i love your hotch x oc x reid fic so much, literally got to work late because you updated and i just HAD to read it when the notif came in !
can i request a kinda fluff-y turning to smut fic about maybe reader's small hands compared to spencer's large hands (his hands are so INTOXICATING).
maybe the fluff part can be kinda cute with their first time holding hands starting from that "oh lets compare hand sizes" and then intertwining fingers?? one of the best spencer fic tropes/hcs is when he's usually not enthusiastic abt touching but when its You he loves it and hes been so touched starved DHSKDHHD // and then the smut can kinda be like how reader's hands make his dick look huge (or smth! im sorry this is my first time requesting a fic!!)
i hope im not coming out as being too demanding !! you can have all the freedom w this !!!! sorry sorry for the long request 🙈🙈🙈
love your work !!! 😙
HANDS, HANDS, and HANDS-------------
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A/N: AHHHH your mind!!!!! I LOVE IT <3
we need a whole episode just dedicated to his hands fr!
thank you so much for requesting and the kind words, I hope I did it justice <3 xoxo
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader
warnings: 18+ minors dni, hand kink, praise, size kink, m receiving oral, take a shot every time someone says sorry
wc: 1.9k
Your infatuation with Dr. Spencer Reid was an open book to everyone--damn profilers--well, everyone except the man of the hour, Dr. Reid himself. It was hard to say when it all started. Subtle changes crept in--the extra care you took in choosing your outfits to work; the way words suddenly became hurdles in conversations with him; the sensation of your heart nearly leaping out of your chest anytime he was in the vicinity. 
Despite your skills as a profiler, deciphering Dr. Reid was like trying to read braille through gloves. So, you pushed those feelings down, crushing them beneath a metaphorical heel to maintain professionalism. It wasn't exactly a successful strategy, but that wasn't the point. You reassured yourself that even if romance wasn't in the cards, friendship was the next best thing. And what a friend he was--remarkable in every way, which is why you found yourself here, in his apartment, dissecting case files together. It was a friendly gesture, surely, to escape the office when it becomes a little too suffocating. 
You felt your pulse race as he brought his fingers to his lips, preparing to sift through the stack of papers. A dryness clutched at your throat, fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, while you're sure your eyes betrayed a cartoonish adoration, practically orbiting with hearts. Forgotten was your own paperwork that now served as a makeshift blanket for your thighs, as he spoke. Your arm claimed the territory along the back of the couch, with your own hand gently propping up your check, a picture of relaxed attentiveness.
In the midst of his lecture about the golden ratio and its prevalence in nature, Spencer suddenly grabs a nearby book, flips to a diagram of a human hand, and says, "Did you realize that our hands are a prime example of this phenomenon? Give me your hand."
Your eyebrows knit together, your head angling subtly towards the boy genius. "Sorry, what?"
Without a word, Spencer lays your hand upon the diagram's expanse. Amidst the book, your hand seems smaller, delicate, a stark contrast the bold lines drawn on paper. 
He looks at you with a soft smile. "See, the size of one's hand doesn't really correlate with the golden ratio--it's more about the proportions within the hand itself. For instance, the length of your fingers compared to your palm, or the distance between the tip of your thumb and the tip of your pinky stretched out."
His hand leads yours across the pages, but you're barely registering the words. Instead, you're acutely aware of the warmth of his touch, causing your thighs to clench on their own accord, your mind tumbling over itself.
"Your hands are actually significantly smaller than the average," he comments, almost to himself. The statement is harmless, yet he finds his imagination wandering. He quickly refocuses, saying, "The range of hand sizes is quite broad, which is interesting biologically. Here--"
He extends his hand, palm open, beside yours--a natural extension of your conversation, yet he shifts slightly against the couch. Spencer was taken aback by his own actions. Physical touch was something he generally recoiled from, but here he was, seeking yours out. He realized this had become a habit, finding reasons to be near you, to feel your touch. Anytime there was something to be handed to you at work, he was quick to volunteer, all for the fleeting possibility of a brush of fingers.
He watched, captivated, as you aligned your palm with his, matching up the bottom of your palms. His attention was drawn to the stark difference between your hands; his, significantly larger, seemed to engulf yours entirely. He found the sight unexpectedly compelling. The disparity in size stirred his curiosity, leading him to wonder how your hand would look clasped around his cock.
His thumb grazed the back of your hand in a subconscious motion as he pondered out loud. "Did you know," he began, his voice sinking an octave, "that the ratio of the lengths of our second to fourth fingers is believed to correlate with various hormones, affecting the way we interact with others."
You found yourself holding your breath as you mapped the shape of your hands together, a subtle dampness beginning to form between your legs. This is what got you worked up? Clearly, you mused, getting laid was overdue. 
As if guided by a force beyond your control, your fingers gradually intertwined, each finger fingers its perfect counterpart. Recoiling as if from a burn, you realized the intimacy of the gesture, a rush of apologies escaping your lips. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to-"
A blush crept up Spencer's neck as he hastened to interject. "No, no, it's completely fine, really."
The moment passed, and you both redirected your focus to the paperwork. Yet, the routine task did little to dispel the residual thoughts of his touch. The size difference, the feeling of his larger hand wrapping around yours, and how ideally his fingers would look pumping inside of you or wrapping around your throat. It all kept playing on your mind, a silent movie that you can't stop watching.
Spencer too, seems lost in thought, his gaze drifting from the files to your hands--manicured and delicate. He watches, seemingly without awareness, as those same hands idly toy with the hem of your skirt, or the way they spin your earring when deep in thought. To him, these minor actions have suddenly become fascinating.
Spencer's voice cuts through the stillness as he resumes his concentration on the work before him. "How do you interpret this?" he probes, touching a finger to a page of the file perched on his lap.
You lean in, curiosity leading you to reach for the file. Your actions freeze momentarily as your knuckles brush against his crouch. You pause, blinking deliberately, as you second-guess what you felt. He was hard as a rock.
You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, eyes growing wide with surprise. "Oh, um, sorry," you muttered. 
In a rapid movement, Spencer combed his fingers through his hair, causing the curls to obstruct his view. He snatched a pillow and tossed it in his lap, tilting his head back against the couch with a look of embarrassment. "No, I'm sorry, I, uh--"
Anticipating a scholarly lecture on the male hormones, you quickly interject. "Do you want help?"
Spencer's eyes grew wide as he regarded your face. Your lashes fluttered with a slow blink, your demeanor completely serious. His traced the flush of your cheeks, the gentle parting of your lips, the accelerated rise and fall of your chest. His head tilted slightly, expecting the punchline to follow.
He let out a puff of air. "Do I want what?"
He noted your head tilting to the side, mirroring his own actions. Your hand reached forward, poised to replace the pillow on his lap. Your pinky dragged across the material of his jeans, moving with excruciating slowness. 
"That seems painful," you comment quickly, before your sudden courage fades. "Let can help."
You moved swiftly to his belt, and you could hear his breath hitch in short bursts. He murmured your name, his hand threading through your hair to grasp gently at the nape of your neck.
You shot him an innocent smile as you edged his pants down, just enough to access his boxers. Your smile made him believe he could come on the spot--the way you looked so eager, like you had been waiting for this. He let out a shaky breath as you released his length from his boxers.
You were engulfed in a dizzying feeling, your eyes widened to saucers as you seized his massive cock. "Holy shit, Spencer, you're huge."
You were barely aware of the words tumbling from your lips as you gawked. The impact on him was immediate, the intensity of your graze was maddening. Your small hands encircled his base, accentuating his size. His grasp on your neck grew firmer as he coaxed your head down. 
"Don't play," came his growl, so out of character. Warmth bloomed in your face, excitement bubbling in your chest as your thighs clasped together.
You flashed him a gentle, unassuming smile as you hastily took him in your mouth. You felt like a new person, an unprecedented need flowing through you.
Spencer let out a sharp hiss as your lips met his cock, taking him as far as you could. He mentally thanked whatever gods existed, unsure of what he had done to deserve this. His hands deftly collected your hair in his grasp, aiding you in guiding him even deeper. His breaths hastened as he praised, "Good god, baby."
His words only egged you on, your movements turning sloppy as you bobbed up and down, working every inch of his cock. You never knew sucking a man off could be so enjoyable. You wanted to savor the moment, to savor him. You encircled the based with your other hand, granting yourself reach to what had been inaccessible to your mouth as you started to synchronize your movements.
"Look at you," Spencer muttered hoarsely, his gaze flickering to your hands. Those damn hands, they looked so perfect around him, even better than he imagined. "You look like you were made for this."
You moaned around him in response, the slickness between your legs starting to drop down your thighs upon his praise. This elicited a hiss from him, tightening his grip in your hair as he drew you away from his throbbing cock, spit trailing from your mouth as you separated. 
"Wha-?" Your question hung in the air, marked by the crease of your confusion on your forehead. 
He didn't let you finish, simply stating. "On your knees."
Without hesitation, you followed his direction, your hands clasped in anticipation as you moved from the couch to the floor, your balance settling back into your heels as he towered over you. "Open."
You complied with his command, easing your jaw as he guided himself onto your tongue. A soft moan escaped you, enveloping his cock. He coaxed his length into your mouth, your hands steadying on his thighs as he all but used your face.
Spencer's hands cradled your face, fully encompassing your cheeks as he thrusted into your mouth. His pulse thundered at a pace he hadn't thought possible, and fuck, he wouldn't mind if this was how death welcomed him. There you were, on your knees, so compliant around his cock. His breaths grew rapid as your nails trailed up his thighs. 
"You're so good," he muttered, eyes casting down upon you, your glazed expression, the drool peeking out from the corners of your lips. "So good. 'M so close."
He moves to withdraw from your mouth, but your hands find their way to the back of his thighs, holding him in place, denying his escape. He exhales a deep, unrestrained moan, thrusting into your mouth once more, shallowing moving as the warm liquid fills your mouth. 
He gazes, spellbound, as you swallow his come completely, your head lolling back in total bliss. In that instant, he realizes his willingness to do anything to keep you close, to see you like this--spent, disheveled, and content.
Breaking the silence, you ask, "Did that help?" His laughter, soft and subdued, fills the air as he reaches out, cupping your cheeks once more. He descends to meet you, his kiss messy and desperate, finding the taste of himself lingering on your lips as his hands untangle your knotted hair. 
"You're amazing," he exhaled, their lips parting. "Now, let me return the favor."
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cambion-companion · 1 year ago
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hi!! binge read all your raphael stuff and i think it added more worms in my brain!! :D thank you!!!
raphael idea: artist!reader (or tav/durge) that raph commissions to paint a portrait of him. maybe how the sitting would go- would he be monologuing? would he be looking over contracts? would he be sneaking fond (in his own way) glances at the lovely little artist sitting in his foyer putting so much passion and concentration into capturing his devilish visage?
or maybe smth like he can't make it to a sitting one day so he sends haarlep to do it expecting that the artist won't be able to tell the difference. instead, his artist refuses to start working since that's CLEARLY not her patron!! his facial structure is off!! that piece of hair doesn't flow down like that!! and his gaze- clearly not!!! so raph comes back hours (or even days) later to find the little artist still in his house, waiting for his return so that they can resume work <3
I LOVE this!
Thank you for reading my work and for sending this lovely message in! This idea kinda ran away with me but I hope you enjoy this drabble!
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“Where is Raphael?”  You squinted at the devil lounging on the gold embroidered cushions.
On first glance, it appeared to be the cambion you’d met yestereve. He had commissioned you to paint a self-portrait for him, showed you the many that already hung from his marble walls. You’d begun your work, sketching the lines and filling them out with practiced dexterity.
Due to time constraints, the devil was a busy man it seemed, you had to cut your painting short, determining to begin again the following day.
Now you sat again, upon the small stool, staring in consternation at the creature who would have you believe it was Raphael.
The fiend stretched, feigning a languid uncaring composure.  In all but those burning eyes, focused so sharply upon your frowning face.
“Whatever do you mean, little succulent?”  It was Raphael’s voice as well, though something was off about the cadence. “You have everything you need right here.”
You shook your head, frustrated, lowering your paintbrush from where it had been poised over the canvas. “No, this isn’t going to work. You aren’t him.”
���My, quite the perceptive thing.”  The devil straightened, looking displeased. “How very annoying.”
“What…who are you?”  You asked, a slight tingle of fear running down your spine.
“I am Haarlep.”  The devil’s long tail swished to curl around his feet.
“That’s an odd name.”
“Isn’t it just.”
Your frown deepened, an annoyed breath hissed through your clenched teeth. “Well, I cannot continue until the real Raphael returns.  When will he be back?”
“The master will not return for quite a while.”  Haarlep rolled his shoulders, looking equally put off. “I do my job quite well. What exactly is the issue?”
You set down your tools and folded your arms, still wary of whatever this creature was. “The way your hair falls, the cadence of your voice…”
“All aspects I am sure you can rectify without too much issue.”  Haarlep interrupted with a petulant gesticulation, but you spoke over him.
“And your eyes.”  Your own eyes narrowed in concentration, focusing on the burning embers within those inky black orbs. “Your eyes are wrong.”
“I’m offended.”  Haarlep deadpanned, then tilted his head with a curious smile. “Explain.”
“I cannot.” You shrugged.
“Then work on painting everything except the face.” Haarlep repositioned himself upon the sofa, his eyes rolling slightly in bemusement.
“For professional reasons, I cannot.”  You didn’t budge. “The master of the house didn’t notify me of this change.”
“The master of the house apologizes.”  Now that voice you recognized, Raphael’s.  Deeper and with more presence than the voice Haarlep used.
Raphael, still in human form, strode into view and offered you a wry smile.  He bowed slightly at the waist, his brown eyes never leaving yours. “I admit to not foreseeing your powers of insight. What a delightful discovery, my dear.”  
He turned and observed Haarlep with mild amusement for a moment. “You’re slipping.”
“Nonsense.”  Haarlep stood from the chaise and flexed his batlike wings. “You know as well as I, some things cannot be replicated.”
“Such as?”  Raphael directed the question to you.
You shifted, your behind slowly numbing from the uncomfortable stool. “Well, the way Haarlep carries himself for one.”  You said carefully speaking the other’s name. “The eyes are also completely different, not in shape or color but the nature they hold within them.”
“Fascinating.” Raphael put his hand to his chin, a slight quirk to his lips. “The eyes.  Windows to the soul.”  He laughed, short and rough.
You didn’t quite understand the joke but smiled politely. “Have you time now?  I can come back later.”
“No.”  Raphael shook his head and placed a firm hand on your shoulder, taking a moment to inspect your canvas. “This is important work. I am at your disposal.”  Raphael’s human form melted away. His hand on your shoulder grew in size and sharp claws bit through your shirt to your skin. Hellfire eyes looked down upon you, familiar, calculating. “For as long as you need me.”
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c4ttheart · 8 months ago
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okkotsu yuta x gn!reader, 1.7k wc.
based on prompt ; "you’re in love with me." "you just found out ?"
reader is kinda weird tbh, i would not fw them, yuta is so awkward and in love, i love him, weird dynamic idk, confession but not really. maki is ooc. written for @daosies !
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it’s not often students at jujutsu tech get to have a day off. you think it’s abnormal, to overwork teenagers even if it is for the greater good. so when you do find yourself free from the shackles of the overwhelming school, you do not hesitate to leave and explore Tokyo. unfortunately for yuta, that means he has to come with you.
unfortunate is a bit of a stretch, but he likes to tell himself that his personality is not completely attached to yours and he doesn’t like following you wherever you go. it’s alright though, that’s what best friends are for. (at least, he thinks so- he doesn’t really know, it’s been a long time since he had a best friend.)
you don’t even have to ask for him to come with you. he just does. he knows you guys do not have anything tomorrow, so when you scroll aimlessly on your phone and say "oh hey, it’s sales season." he just smiles from his end of the common room couch and looks at the itinerary. "okay" he whispers back, and you smile too. you do not worry about anything, because yuta probably already has everything planned, except your budget. you’ll think about that later. you like to ponder on the possibilities only when they’re right in front of you.
one thing you hate about the school is how far it is from civilisation. the train is agonisingly long, and the nearest train station is so far away you fear you do not feel your feet anymore. it’s alright though, the excursion is worth it and yuta carries your bags because otherwise you’ll complain about how sore your arms feel. he thinks you’re lucky, he has collected an increasing amount of physical strength due to maki’s training. if your muscles are weak, although he does not mean it in a bad way, that means you have not gone through the torture he was put through.
he likes you, so so much. and his heart throbs whenever you smile and take pictures with him, because all of this feels like something he could get used to. it feels like he could live this way forever and forget about the truth of the world he lives in. you’re happy, he notes, because if you weren’t, then the negativity of the people around him would be noticeable. but it isn’t, because you have a way to make all bad things disappear. and if you’re happy, that means you’re enjoying yourself. with him. and that is enough to make him happy too.
"yuta, crepes." you mutter as you point to whatever has your attention. he does not respond, he just follows, with that giddy smile on his face as if he had just gotten engaged. and it doesn’t matter if, for whatever reason, he disliked banana before, because now as you savour your crepe and offer it to him so he can take a bite, he thinks that nothing has ever tasted more wonderful than this.
(it takes everything in him not to turn beet red at the fact the two of you just shared an indirect kiss.)
it’s late when you return to campus. you’re tired, and exhausted, and you don’t think your feet (and wallet) have ever hurt this much. you say goodbye to yuta with a small wave and he smiles, his cheeks still slightly dusted pink from the fact that your hand brushed his when you took your bags back.
maki is sprawled out on your bed when you arrive. she does that often, claiming the connection is better in your room than hers. you know she likes your presence though, not toge’s, not panda’s, not yuta’s (and definitely not gojo’s), yours. you don’t understand why, unless she appreciates the silence and indifference you give to her. she’s your friend, of course, but that is just the way you are with everyone. except for yuta. you do try and keep the conversation going with him a little more than usual, but that’s different, because he’s your best friend.
yuta is your best friend because he does not complain. you like that about him, how he understands you without much words. you like how he knows what you like and complies. you like how he does not prod, and how he speaks for you to the cashiers. maybe you sound like a dictator, according to maki, but yuta does not seem miserable, so you don’t say anything.
"how was your date with that slave of yours ?" she asks, shutting her phone off to look at you. you frown.
"get off my bed. i sleep there. your clothes are dirty." you reply, organising the stuff you brought. it cannot wait until later, because if it does, you will simply not do it.
she shrugs, although a ghost of a smile is present on her face. you did not push her off this time, and that much is enough.
"you seem less cranky than usual. oh, i know-"
"i’m not usually cranky." you speak as you glance to her again. she’s sitting criss crossed, and although she is still on your bed, the covers are pulled up. you supposed that’s alright.
"yes, yes you are." you roll your eyes at her statement. you will not deny her her delusions, everyone is allowed to dream. "did he finally confess his undying love to you ?" she half snorts, and you already know she is ready to text toge your answer, considering how she pulled her phone back out.
you shake your head slightly, indicating her that no, he did not do whatever she thought he would, because that’s absurd. because, "we’re best friends." you answer.
maki frowns. "but he likes you."
oh. you think, what ? okay. you hum, okay.
the green haired girl leaves your room with a smile on her face and when you touch your cheeks you realise that they are hot. oh.
and you notice that you cannot stop thinking about him now. and whenever you do, your chest tightens. oh.
maybe, you think, you do like yuta too.
oh.
the next few days are quiet. you do not speak. oh, oh, and oh’s are all that you let out. suddenly, you are hyper aware of everything. everything yuta does. everything yuta says. everything yuta wears. and oh, you do not like that. you liked caring about nothing other than yourself. maybe, if you let him go, then everything will go back to the way it was. that sounds good, right ? but then again, you do not want to let him go. what will happen to yuta if he also stops to care about you ?
that does not matter right now. you will face the consequences later. you always do. and so you become quieter, if that is even possible. but yuta has always been an exception. yuta will always be an exception, and that worries you because you find yourself humming and nodding to whatever he says instead of just saying ‘oh’.
even though you do not have a plan to follow, you know that this is not a part of it. so you stop smiling to him. and then you stop nodding. then, finally, you stop humming too. and somewhere in between you forget to say ‘oh’. you forget to answer at all.
"(name)," he says, one breezy afternoon. you turn to look at him, but you do not hum.
he sits down besides you, on the cool stone stairs leading to the field. he shivers slightly, and you look back ahead. he watches you with that type of longing. you are not looking at him. you are looking at the horizon. something bigger. something unattainable. he repeats your name slowly, until your gaze is fixated on him again. he feels safer this way. he feels seen. this is all yuta has ever wanted, so he smiles.
"what’s wrong ?" he asks, tentatively.
you stare at him some more. nothing beneath those colourful eyes of yours. you like it when he cares about you, so you have to suppress a smile. "you’ve been avoiding me." yuta adds. "oh." you answer.
he lets out an awkward laugh, and when his eyes scan your face again before meeting yours you understand he’s asking why. it’s odd, to know you can read him too without words. oh, you think. you blink.
"you’re in love with me." you state. he blinks too, although incredibly faster, and you swear you’ve never seen him this red, as he tries to hide his face between his hands.
someone snorts very loudly from behind, and you cradle your neck to be able to see who it is. "you just found out?" panda hollers, gasping for air in between laughs. you should have known yuta would have not come alone. he is too scared of confrontation to talk to you himself. he buries his face even deeper in between his palms, wishing for nothing more than to carve his eyes out because if he doesn’t he might start crying.
panda runs away, still wheezing, as he exclaims something along the lines of having to tell toge. you shrug. yuta sniffs.
"i-i’m sorry. i understand if you never want to see me again, i should’ve known that-" yuta’s rambling is cut short when you lower his hand back down to the cement to place your own over his. he sniffles some more.
your heart aches, and you think oh, you do not like to see yuta cry. specifically not because of you. and you know that you should not be doing this because it is not what was supposed to happen but it’s okay, because there was no plan to begin with. after all, you like to ponder on the possibilities only when they’re right in front of you.
you smile at him, tentatively, before entwining your pinky with his. "it’s alright. stay."
and this time, yuta is the one to think oh, because he understands what you mean. maybe he does not understand why, but he shall ask you (or not) another time. for now, he lets the wind dry his tears and your head lay stiff on his shoulder. he wants to laugh at your awkwardness, but he decides against it. it is not his place to laugh. so he intertwines your fingers with his, and smiles back.
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stellarbit · 4 months ago
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i have a kinda strange ask.
so i have severe insomnia. i've done sleep studies and meds but sometimes i just CANNOT sleep, even as bad as multiple days no sleep. doctors and i are still working on a fix. it's a fucking nightmare (except i can't have nightmares if im not asleep, can i???)
i'm a very calm, quiet, logical, and collected person except when i can't sleep. then i'm a crying and genuinely insane wreck.
i would absolutely LOVE if you could do some kind of Crosshair x female reader with some kind of scenario like this. it would make me feel better. Like maybe he didn't see her sleep the previous night and finds her still awake at like 3am the next night and this normally stoic girl is just an absolute unhinged psychotic mess and he has to fix it 🤷🏻‍♀️
idk how far ur willing to go (leaving it up to you) but just as a general idea as to how i (and many other people with this problem) get without sleep, i can get kinda violent, super snippy with people, can't stop crying, impulsive, physically sick sometimes, and don't always sound coherent or refuse to listen to people even if they're trying to help me. it's not a fun mental state to be in.
i'm never sleeping so i might as well read your literature (it's like a nightly ritual i love your stuff)
thank you 🙏
I know what it's like. Insomnia kicks my ass occasionally and it wrecks me and takes days of my life away before I can finally sleep. I hope you find some rest buddy <3 alsothankyouforthecomplimentjfc
give this a listen while you read
Just Lay With Me
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Word Count: 1.5k Pairing: Crosshair x fem!reader SFW Warnings: insomnia kicking your ass all the way to next Sunday Summary: After a long bout of no sleep, you break and Crosshair is there to pick up the pieces. gif credit: @moonstrider9904
Sleep evaded you more and more often lately. Your new normal was turning into nights without more than an hour of dozing off. Nights that stretched into a week at a time with an occasional night of sleep, however restless. This time around the sleepless nights were quickly working their way to a month’s stretch.
After a few nights of frequently waking, two rotations went by without so much as a blink of sleep. At this point you weren’t just delirious, nausea turned your stomach and your head throbbed constantly. Every sound jarred you, pushing you to the brink of crying each time. 
Unable to string together more than a few coherent thoughts at a time, you’d planned on avoiding town the next. You were liable to snap at the smallest slight, but even in this state you knew it wasn’t fair to others.
By the time Crosshair came to find you, you were well beyond your limit.
Crosshair noticed your erratic behavior first. You’d snapped at Omega when she and Crosshair bumped into you on the street. Crosshair tried to stop you from walking off but you bit his head off too.
It was unlike you. Ordinarily, you were composed and rational—characteristics that had faded as your sleepless nights dragged on.
Your increasingly disheveled look became Crosshair’s next worry. You didn’t preen by any stretch of the imagination, but you took care of yourself and it always showed. Now, your skin took on a dull hue, your hair greasy and untamed, and dark circles gave your eyes a sunken appearance.
The night before he and Omega ran into you, Crosshair had noticed a light on in your home around 2 AM. Knowing you weren't typically up at that hour, he found it strange. The following evening, as he lay in bed, thoughts of your earlier encounter in town filled his mind. With a growing suspicion, he rose and stepped out to the patio. From there, he could see a dim light shining from your bedroom window.
He knew what insomnia looked like, had fought with it himself after being trapped on that Kaminoan platform, and didn’t want to push you if his suspicions were true. 
Then, the sound of glass shattering from your home shattered his hesitation. He leapt over the patio railing, his feet barely touching the ground as he dashed toward your house. Fortunately, your door was unlocked—an issue he noted to address later—and he entered your home in seconds.. 
He didn’t call out for you, instead choosing to quietly make his way through your space, tiptoeing through scattered blankets and clothes strewn over furniture. When he found you, you were on your kitchen floor, hunched over with your hands fisting your hair. 
Soft heaves shook your body as you rocked in place. Broken glass surrounded you, making the situation even more delicate.
Crosshair had been right, you hadn’t been sleeping.
Knowing there was no good way to break the silence, Crosshair softly called your name. Sure enough, you jumped hard and nearly slid onto a shard of glass.
Crosshair lurched forward to steady you by your upper arm only for you to rip out of his grip. You whipped your head around, hair falling in your face in a deranged look. It fit seeing as you certainly felt deranged. 
The sniper’s eyes were uncharacteristically soft, with brows slightly raised and shoulders relaxed. It felt like pity. Red hot shame flooded your system, sending you shuffling like a newborn fawn to your feet. 
In a harsh, hoarse voice you lashed out, “What are you doing here?”
Crosshair glanced at the mess around you.“Your lights were on and I heard something break.” You didn’t answer leaving only heavy silence between you. Crosshair sighed, looking back at you. “You’re not sleeping, are you?”
There wasn’t enough air for you to answer, your breath hitched into small gasps as tears warped your vision. Dipping your head back, you managed to blink back some of the wet from your eyes. With a determined shake of your head, you cleared your voice and firmly said, “I’m fine.” 
A line in the sand between you - a desperate claim to control something, anything.
His eyes on you, those sharp, all seeing, critical eyes, made your skin crawl. Not him specifically, but him seeing you as you were. This wasn’t how you wanted him to see you. Unable to stop the uncomfortable squirm that rolled through you, you waved both hands at him as if to ward him off.
“Please just leave.” Your voice was pleading, your eyes blinking furiously. 
“I’m not doing that.” Crosshair said gently. You weren’t sure if your tears, the lighting, or reality itself made Crosshair look so hazy.
Perhaps this was the next step into delirium. The thought widened your eyes with newfound fear. He’d appeared so suddenly - was he even real? Crosshair narrowed a worried look on you as a fresh, sickening feeling gripped you, spurring you back a step. Right onto a shard of glass.
You cried out, nearly collapsing, but Crosshair was quick to support you, preventing you from falling completely. The pain shooting through your foot crumbled your remaining resolve.
Crosshair swept an arm under your knees to scoop you into his arms. He hugged you close, even as you thrashed against him in fits of sobbing. He carried you to the bathroom and carefully set you on the edge of the tub.
Despite the sobs, you let Crosshair put your injured foot under the tap and rinse the blood still seeping from your wound. He felt the tremors wracking your body as he angled your foot towards him. Luckily the shard was sticking out enough that removing it would be easy enough under normal circumstances.
“I have to pull the shard out.” Crosshair said as inspected your foot. A choked sob pulled his eyes to your face again. Your lips wobbled in a devastated frown on your blotchy tear stained face.
Seeing you so fragile or haunted tore something in him knowing he could do little more than sit and watch you fall apart.
In an exhausted whisper, you confessed, “I’m so tired, Cross.”
“I know,” He whispered back and removed the shard in one swift pull.
Crosshair put your foot under the tepid water again, simultaneously pulling a towel from the rack beside him. As he dried your foot and applied pressure to the wound, he decided to share something.
“When the empire recovered me from the Kaminoan platform…” He paused on a deep breath. He hadn’t even told his brothers or Omega, but if he could do nothing else he hoped he could at least make you feel less alone.
Crosshair gently pulled you by your leg and pivoted you out of the tub. Braving vulnerability, he knelt in front of you and said, “I… I didn’t sleep for a long time. I don’t know how long, exactly, but long enough that I had to be sedated.” He smoothed a hand over your knee, adding, “I know what it’s like.”
You gave a small nod, focusing on regulating your breathing, too overwhelmed to speak. Sensing your need for comfort, Crosshair whispered, “Can I carry you to bed?” His tone was gentle, mindful not to startle you.
Your head fell forward in shame. Pressing a hand over your eyes you shook your head and mumbled, “It’s a mess.”
Crosshair couldn’t help the soft snort that came from him, drawing your head back up. A questioning, almost offended, look came over you. Crosshair didn’t ask for further permission as he came in close to you and lifted you with him. 
“You should see Tech’s room.” He teased, his breath warm on your cheek. “And he sleeps whenever he likes.”
The small joke did manage to lift your lips and you found some comfort in the cadence of his steps. He’d not yet gone this far for you. No one ever had. 
Crosshair crawled into bed with you still in his arms, pushing into your tousled duvet and placing you next to him. Leaning across you, he murmured an apology and froze before turning your light out.
Peering down past his arm at you, he swallowed before asking, “Do you mind if I stay with you?”
You didn’t think it was possible, but a small smile warbled over you. You hummed out an affirmative and rolled towards, rubbing your face into the soft fabric of his shirt. Crosshair chuckled under his breath and turned off the light.
He slid in next to you, sitting at an angle that his arms cradle around you. His made lazy trails over your back
“The kitchen-” you started.
“Tomorrow.” Crosshair cut you off. “For now, just lay with me.”
In the quiet hour, in your messy bed, in Crosshair’s arms you finally found rest.
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freimeka · 1 year ago
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am i the only one who's about to explode by thinking of a bodyguard ghost??? like he's... extremely on another level please help me !! i actually hate this and might delete this pls forgive any mistakes ans typos it's 3am . i feel like i forgot some tws and tags but oh well idc
★ obv bodyguard!ghost + pwp + just unholy thoughts + descriptions of masturbating + very brief mention of idk just a heated argument + ghost is kinda voyeur here
You have no idea how the two of you ended up like this. You clearly remember that you were screaming at Ghost's face. The reason was something completely dumb...like, he probably insulted one of your friends and you just exploded. You've been feeling on the edge because of him for the last week now—you cannot even count the times that your hand, completely out of your control, has traveled down on your body once you were alone to touch yourself.
As you think of him.
That fucker.
Ghost can easily get under your skin without even trying, it's like a love-hate relationship. You've known him for many long years—he has always been right there, next to you whenever you turn your head around to see him. He's protected you, spoiled you maybe even more than your parents did. Well, there have also been countless times that he annoyed you so much that you just wanted to slap him across his face but you just let them pass. You're used to Ghost, and he's used to you.
You should be mad at him now, your body should be on fire just by how angry you're at him but... your hand keeps traveling down on your body. You get comfortable on your bed, letting your body meet with the soft mattress as your legs immediately spread apart as if on autopilot mode. One of your hands easily travels underneath your shirt to touch your perked nipples, your fingertips pinching them just to feel a bit more. Your other hand slips past your soaked panties, and you realize that you're embarrassingly wet—with every move of your fingers you can hear a slick sound that's faint, yet loud enough to echo in your empty room.
You throw your head back when your trembling fingers start to rub circles against your clit, gathering the wetness and spreading it all over to make it easier for you to move your fingers in circles. Your eyes are shut, and you feel yourself taking short and erratic breaths as your fingers keep rubbing circles. No matter how you do or what you do, the mere idea of being stretched by Ghost's cock just doesn't leave your mind. Your fingers don't feel thick enough, they don't reach the parts that you want them to reach—and that's getting frustrating. You're usually so careful about being quiet in order not to get caught, but the feeling is overwhelming; you think that you might cry. That's why a soft, yet a bit louder than ever whine falls from your lips. You don't think that it's dangerous because everyone except Ghost is outside, your parents work long hours and that's why Ghost has become a babysitter as well as a bodyguard—that's what he says, but you know that he's trying to annoy you.
Since you two have argued like fifteen minutes ago, and his mad and hoarse voice somehow made you wet, Ghost must be outside on the balcony. He's probably smoking.
Right?
You feel your bed being crushed down under someone else's weight, and you want to open your eyes but the scent is all too familiar. And you feel like you're about to explode from embarrassment. Ghost rests his hands on your bare thighs, his fingers grazing the soft skin with such gentleness that you struggle to hold back a whimper. It's a small touch— it's obvious that he's testing the waters first.
"You're making it hard to be around you," you hear him whispering, his voice is dangerously low. You finally decide to open your eyes, to see him without his damn mask and he's already looking up at you. However, he breaks the eye contact as soon as you look back at him—he's now looking at your thighs, his lips touch your inner thigh as he speaks. "But you're also making it hard not to be around you."
You can't believe he's admitting it.
"Please—Ghost, I—," you barely whisper, your voice is shaky as your fingertips burn to feel Ghost's soft hair. "I'm... I just," it's impossible for you to explain yourself, but then again you don't have to do it since everything's pretty clear. Ghost is breathing so heavily against the skin of your inner thigh, and he's not done—for fuck's sakez he's not even started yet. Ghost's hands skillfully reach down to your sides, and he drags you against him to make you feel just how much he wants you. You hear the sounds of fabric as your body is pulled down on the bed, you're almost at the edge of the bed now while Ghost is kneeling down in front of you. He doesn't speak for a while, and you feel yourself get even more stressed. It's obvious that he has no problems with what you've been doing, but damn it, say something.
"You're perfect," he hisses, he sounds almost out of breath as he whispers against your skin. You feel him pulling your panties up, letting the already soaked fabric cover your wet pussy again. "You're so perfect."
And that's probably all you need to hear, you're way too gone, too overwhelmed to care about the consequences. You can worry about them later, but you know that this is mutual, and he wants you as much as you want him. He kisses you, it's a gentle peck on the lips first. But then, he gets harder and harder, pushing you back against the bed and holding onto your hips tighter— and you realize that he's making you think about only how badly you want him inside you. The way his big, calloused hands are touching your bare thighs, the way his kisses are getting more and more intense... He's getting you to feel hot enough to make you melt in his presence.
"I was waiting for the fun part to come," he breathes out, "But you take damn too long."
There's a moment of silence.
"I can help you with that."
You make a sound like a whine, like a soft cry of pleasure—all of those anxious thoughts that say you've embarrassed yourself are gone in a minute. Your body aches, you can feel your heartbeat getting faster just by the thought of Ghost finally filling you up to the brim.
He leans in, his broad shoulders are enough to make you disappear under his body as he presses his lips against yours desperately. There's something almost feral in the way he kisses you, as if he's even more impatient than you are. As if he's been waiting for this to happen for a long time.
Ghost's breath grows more and more desperate as the two of you kiss; his tongue licking into your mouth as your teeth bite into his bottom lip, your bodies are pressed against each other as much as they can. The feeling of him rubbing circles against your clit through the fabric of your panties drives you crazy and you feel your breath being stolen from your lungs. You need to feel him, somehow; it doesn't matter if he pushes his fingers or decides that he can pound into you, you just need him. Not through the damn panties, you need to get rid of them.
He's kissing you fiercely now, his tongue tasting your lips and then sliding inside your mouth greedily. His hands are working on your trembling body, touching your pussy through the fabric; you feel like crying, he should take it off.
"This feels so good," Ghost says, his voice is deep and it feels like he's speaking in your head. "Doesn't it? Don't you think that I can do a better job of filling up that cunt?" Ghost asks, and you know that he's taunting you—but you can't stay under that now, can you?
"Take them off," you breathlessly whimper, it's something like both a beg and a demand—Ghost can take whatever suits him. "Please, just take them off."
Ghost lets out a groan, and it's clear that hearing what you just ask him to do is driving him insane. If he was desperate to kiss you before, he's desperate to make you bury your face into the damn pillow and pound into you until your pussy remembers the shape of his dick.
"You're so wet," he chuckles deep in his throat, staring down at you for a moment as if he's trying to gather himself before he gives you what you want.
"I should keep your panties with me, you know," he lets out a deep sigh as his fingers hook around your panties and pull them down slowly but surely. As he keeps talking to you, his voice lowers. "You're not the only desperate one here."
He finally pushes a finger in, letting your walls stretch slightly to the feeling of his thick index finger—but you still feel like that's not thick enough. You're greedy when it comes to him. Your moans turn into whines as he adds the second, and the thirs finger without any prior warning. He's moving his hand quite fast now, causing your legs to tremble as your fingers wrap around his thick biceps—all you can do is cry out, whines and whimpers and string of curses fall from your lips as Ghost toys with you. Your body tenses up when his hand starts to move a bit faster, his fingers curling inside you until he finds a spot that will have you begging for more. He succeeds, and it causes your walls to get tighter around his fingers.
"Do that again for me," he mumbles against your mouth, breathlessly. "Do that again for me when I'm inside you, baby."
"It would be such a disgrace if I never tried to make you feel good," he whispers. His breath is hot against your neck. "But look at you... what happened to that fierce girl? All I'm seeing is an obedient little girl, my sweet girl, who's already getting dumb without being filled up properly."
"Oh, I hate you," you reply, your voice is low and filled with desperation as you wet your lips with your tongue. The more Ghost makes you wait, the more you feel like crying.
"Of course, you do," he replies, his voice is full of sarcasm. "That's why you're dying to get your pussy filled by me, correct? You're lucky that you're not the only one who does this," as Ghost speaks, you feel him moving around—and soon after the sound of his belt coming undone is heard. He doesn't even bother to get rid of his clothes properly, he just pushes his trousers down before he pushes your shirt above just a bit to indicate that he wants you to take it off.
Who are you to say no?
Your trembling fingers grab the hem of your t-shirt and you take it off with one swift motion, letting the piece of clothing fall to the floor.
You're way beyond gone at this point, your mind is empty, so no words come out from your mouth. You feel Ghost pulling you closer to himself on the bed. He's resting his knees on the edge of the bed as leverage while holding you by your thighs and making you spread your legs as much as you can. He's always wanted to touch you, fill you up, and the way you're looking at him through your heavy-lidded eyes is making it even harder for him to resist you.
"You know," he murmurs, "I would imagine us all over the place— my room, the backseat of cars or a damn parking lot, some closet, bending you over any surface that I find as soon as we step back in the house." His voice is thick with lust, it's like he's ready to devour you, consume you until there's nothing left of you. "I imagined you in my lap, your legs open for me, and..."
Ghost doesn't finish his sentence and instead, he finally gives you what you've been craving all along. He's big and thick, and the moment you feel the tip of his cock pushing inside you let out a soft yelp—Ghost is slow until he's fully in you, and just as you think that he'll give you some time to adjust to his size, he mercilessly thrusting. Sharp and powerful, almost abusing your cunt as his big hands spread your pussy even more just for his hungry gaze.
"I always felt like I was going to explode." You can hear him grunting, letting out low and deep sounds of pleasure as he mercilessly fucks into you. Your body moves up and down on the bed, putting on a show for Ghost that'll just drive him insane with how you look. He leans in, and his tongue licks hot stripes all over your chest before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. His tongue flicks around it, his teeth gently and teasingly bite into it just to see your reaction. Every time you're slightly overwhelmed and sensitive, your walls clamp around his cock, making Ghost let out a string of curses as his grip on you tightens more and more.
He wraps his arms around your waist, gently rolling over to let you lie on top of him—his body presses into the mattress. You find yourself sitting on top of his body, his arms wrapped around you and his face in between your breasts. "Ride me," he whispers. "I wanna come inside you like this," and he's so, so cruel—how can he talk to you like that when he knows you're so, so, so sensitive. You whine, your arms tightly wrap around his neck as you start to do as you're told; but you're so close, so, so, so close that your movements become sloppier and messier.
"Can't," you gulp. "I can't, Ghost—," your words are breathless and low, your vision is blurry as you come all over his cock without even having the chance of letting him know. But that's Ghost, and Ghost knows you very well. He knows you better than you know yourself. "Yes, sweetheart," he whispers against your chest. "Go ahead, show me how you do it. I promise I'll make you feel even better than this."
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the-iceni-bitch · 1 year ago
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Through Every Forest
V/V: Run
Relationship: dark!Alpha Curtis Everett x Omega!Fem reader
Words: ~4.8k
Summary: Will Curtis finally make you his?
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral, p in v, knotting, kinda acrobatic 69), Omegaverse, possessive Curtis, primal kink, mentions of non con activities, rut and heat, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!
A/N: The finale! Our insane babes have feelings? Curtis is a whole fucking meal. I’m just so happy they’re getting the ending they deserve and hope y’all enjoy!
I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on the latest fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!
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You groaned when you woke up, your wounds still sore even though it had been almost two weeks. But then you felt Curtis’s heart beating under your cheek, your eyes fluttering open so you could gaze at his face. He had spent every night with you since your last disaster of a hunt, and most of his days as well except when he had to take meetings, gently helping you as you recovered from your injuries.
But he was still angry, growling each time he had to leave you and deal with the rich, entitled assholes his operation catered to. They were making him rich, but after the fiasco of your last hunt he trusted the dicks who paid him even less. Even the fact that he had rooted out Bryce and gotten rid of the rebellious elements of his organization didn’t help his mood, Carter being the only Alpha he would trust anywhere near you.
The only thing that could make him feel any better was you, being close to you and knowing that you were safe keeping him more happy than he would ever admit. You were his now, no one else deserved you or could handle you. He was sick of pretending otherwise, even though he was still grumpy about it.
It was hard to stay grumpy when he woke up to the feeling of your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock though, groaning before he even opened his eyes and resting his hand on your head. Once he was fully awake he looked down at you, chuckling at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his sensitive head. You hummed when he stroked your cheek gently before gripping the back of your head and forcing himself down your throat, gagging and drooling all over him as you gave him a reproachful look.
“Don’t you fucking glare at me, little girl.” He popped you on the cheek once before fucking up into your mouth again, grinding against your face and purring when when he felt your nails digging into his hair-covered thighs. “Acting like you don’t love this shit when I can smell that little pussy drooling like a bitch.”
You just rolled your eyes while you swallowed around him, breathing through your nose when he started fucking your throat in earnest. He was right, you did love this. Your pussy was throbbing and clenching while his cock filled your mouth and stretched your lips until they stung, your jaw aching from being forced open so wide for such a long time. Then he yanked on your hair and wrapped his free hand around your neck and you moaned around him, choking when he squeezed until your throat constricted around his thick cock.
“That’s a good little ‘mega, fucking Christ.” Curtis grunted and threw his head back when you swallowed around him, his hips grinding against your face as he kept gripping your throat to make your muscles tighten around his dick. “You’re gonna let me knot that pretty mouth, aren’t you baby girl?”
Even though you couldn’t answer him he could see in your eyes you would, that you wanted it. Your tongue slid along his shaft as you slobbered all over him and yourself, and you could have sighed when his fingers massaged your scalp as he pushed your head up and down on his cock. His precum ran down your throat as he let you bring him closer, his voice leaving him in a low growl when you brought a hand up to play with his balls.
He couldn’t get enough of watching you like this, of knowing how much you enjoyed being used by him. It’s what let him know you were the only one who deserved him, just like he was the only one who deserved you. The two of you were made for each other, both of you vicious and primal, survivors of the circumstances life threw at you who made the best of your respective situations. And all he wanted was to make sure you never had to survive anything else.
When you squeezed his balls he bit his lip, his eyes heavily lidded as he watched your wide stretched lips grip his cock. He could feel himself starting to swell, his balls pulling tight and his knot inflating while he fixed his gaze on yours. You gagged when he squeezed your throat so tight you couldn’t breathe, your blood rushing in your ears and your vision going blurry as your cunt clenched and fluttered around nothing.
Curtis bit off a roar when he shot his thick, hot cum down your throat, his hips jerking against your face while his knot locked him behind your teeth. You swallowed every drop eagerly, your eyes bright as you laved your tongue all over him and watched his face contort in bliss. Every time you made him come you knew you would kill any Omega who tried to take him from you, no weak little bitch could ever do for him what you could. If only he would actually fuck you.
“My good girl, c’mere little one.” Curtis snorted when you just whined around his knot as he leaned down and grabbed your hips, keeping your head in his lap while he lifted your body off the bed until your ass was resting against his chest and your legs were hooked over his broad shoulders. “Good thing you’re so flexible, filly, makes everything I want to do to you that much easier. Watch your fucking teeth.”
You choked when he shoved fingers from both hands inside your pussy and pulled your clenching walls apart, his tongue pushing inside you and lapping up your slick like he had been walking in the desert for a week and you were his oasis. His beard rubbed at your folds until they were raw, your clit throbbing against his upper lip while he rubbed the inside of your pussy even as he swirled his tongue inside you. When he pulled back and spat on your cunt you shivered, your throat constricting around his cock when he smeared it all over your soft lips with the calloused pads of his fingers.
Curtis groaned against your skin when your tongue started running all over his cock again, kissing your pussy almost reverently before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. Even though he couldn’t see your face he could feel the pleasure coursing through you, your body shivering in his arms while his tongue pressed inside you once more. He had to pull away from you when you moaned around him, though, his knot swelling even more as he shot another load down your spasming throat.
“Goddamn, you just wanna have a knot in your mouth all fucking day, huh girl?” Curtis smiled and bit the inside of your thigh when you just whimpered in response, smacking your cunt and grunting when it made you let out a muffled squeal. “C’mon little one, don’t have the time to keep your mouth stuffed full, no matter how good you feel. Gimme a big one.”
He started rubbing your cunt viciously, his other arm wrapped around your waist and holding you tightly to his body while you gushed slick all over him. When he slapped your pussy again you choked as you tried to scream around his knot, your back arching and your toes curling when he kept spanking your sensitive flesh until you were soaked. You were so close, your chest heaving with ragged breaths as you struggled to control yourself even as your eyes rolled back in your head.
Three fingers plunged inside you and pressed against that perfect spot and you screamed, your entire body going stiff as you came apart at the seams. Curtis laughed softly when you squirted all over his face, dragging his tongue over you slowly to lick you clean as you kept quivering in his arms. It took another minute for his knot to go down enough for him to slide out of your mouth, and you moaned when he turned your body so you were sitting in his lap with your cheek pressed against his chest. You sighed when he scented the top of your head, letting your eyes fall closed as his hand ran over your spine while he looked out the window.
“How does your thigh feel today, filly?” Curtis kissed your hair and gently touched the scar on your side, smiling when you didn’t flinch. “You gonna be up for a longer walk?”
“Yeah.” You hummed when you felt his heart beating under your cheek. “No cane today.”
“Fucking stubborn… fine.” He had been trying so hard not to baby you after you were shot, but he couldn’t help but still feel guilty for putting you in a situation where you had been injured. “Just make sure you eat all your food and take your pain meds.”
You still let him help you walk to the table once a Beta brought your breakfast in, leaning on his arm then sitting in his lap so he could keep an eye on you. Even though he wasn’t babying you, he still refused to let you out of his reach, never wanting you more than an arm’s length away so he could ensure he was there to catch you if you fell. Once you had finished your breakfast he helped with your stretches, calling you his good girl when you just groaned at him pressing your knee to your chest before massaging your thigh. Your walk was slow, especially without the cane, and you still hadn’t gotten used to being allowed to roam the grounds without a collar and leash. Curtis smiled at you when you held onto his arm and looked up at him, letting you rest when you reached the fence at the edge of the compound.
“Do you have meetings today?” Your leg was throbbing a little but you tried not to let it show, leaning your cheek against his arm and shivering when an autumn breeze blew through the trees.
“Just one.” Hopefully his last one for a while. “And you have a checkup, so no bitching about being left all by yourself.”
You snorted when he started to lead you back to the compound, scenting his chest and sighing as his fingers ran over your spine. He kissed you before he left you in the medical center, his hand gripping the back of your neck and his fingers pressing against your gland until you were sighing into his mouth. Curtis nodded to the Beta doctor before leaving you, reluctance written all over his face when he moved back down the hall to his offices.
The doctor was gentle but thorough as he examined you, helping you stretch your limbs and making sure your mobility was still doing well as you recovered from being shot. In spite of some residual stiffness you were doing well, and he gave you the go ahead to stop using the cane which you couldn’t be more pleased about. He did warn you that with your heat coming up in a few weeks you needed to be careful about not over exerting yourself, but aside from taking a blood sample he was fine sending you back to your quarters.
Curtis’s meeting went well also, managing to land the whale after promising him a once in a lifetime opportunity and shaking his hand. His own visit to the med center went as expected, but he still had a slight frown on his face when he went back to your rooms. He just hoped you would be understanding about what he had to do.
“Hey honey.” When you were stretching when he walked in he smiled, helping you to your feet and cradling your face in his hands as he gazed into your eyes. “You look good, like you’re feeling better.”
“I am.” You could smell the change in him, like he was stressed about something. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re too fucking observant for your own good.” Curtis grumbled before bending to rest his forehead against yours. “I… shit. I have to leave for two weeks.”
“What?!” You hissed and grabbed his shirt when he tried to pull back, the look in your eyes full of distress. “The fuck you are. Where are you going?”
“That’s not important.” He hated that expression on your face, but he couldn’t stay. Curtis set his jaw and wrapped his hand around your throat, pressing his thumb against your carotid and growling until you started to relax. “This isn’t a punishment, and my people will still be reporting to me, so no throwing your fucking tantrums or I’ll take it out on your ass when I’m back.”
“You fucking bastard.” You groaned when he slapped you, wheezing when he squeezed your neck tighter and pulled you close to scent your hair. “I can’t believe you’re abandoning me, after everything…”
“I told you, I’m not abandoning you.” Curtis couldn’t stop himself from kissing you deeply, winding his arms around you and sighing when you purred against his lips. “I’ll be back, don’t be a fucking bitch the whole time I’m gone, be my good girl.”
“Wait, Curtis…” You dragged him back to you and kissed him again, just restraining yourself from climbing into his arms. “You promise you’ll be back?”
“Of course.” He rubbed your mating gland and frowned when you gave him a pathetic expression. “You’re mine now, I’m not leaving you. Just keep being good for me.”
You tried not to whine when he finally left your shared rooms, hating the disgusting, needy feeling that was sitting in your chest. That feeling didn’t go away the next day, or the day after that. But you still wanted to be good, he had to be coming back. He was the only one you trusted, the only one who made you feel safe. So you ate all your meals, and did all of your physical therapy exercises. You even let Carter walk you around the compound to make sure your mobility was continuing to improve. It wasn’t the same without him, though. Every night when you tried to fall asleep all you could think about was how cold the bed was without Curtis.
Two weeks passed so slowly without him. You should have hated how upset you were when he wasn’t with you, but all you could feel was lonely. It was even worse that your heat snuck up on you a week early, making you moan and whine as cramps made you double over and slick stain your thighs. When the sun began setting on the fourteenth day you started when Carter came into your rooms unannounced, frowning when he held up a white silk shift and looked at you expectantly.
“What is that for?” You shivered and groaned in your nest when he came closer, gripping one of Curtis’s shirts tightly when another cramp wracked you. “I’m not supposed to do hunts anymore.”
“It’s from Curtis.” Carter sighed, not enjoying the subterfuge so matter how necessary it was. “I’m going to take you to see him. He asked you to trust him.”
“You… alright.” You scowled and plucked the shift from his grip, waiting until he turned around to take off your sweats and put on the nightie. “If this is some kind of trick I’ll fucking kill the both of you.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He chuckled when you just sniffed at him and let him lead you out of your quarters. “That’s why you’re the boss’s girl.”
You found your face heating up when he called you Curtis’s girl. It was stupid, but with how damn hormonal you were you felt flattered. The two of you didn’t talk while he drove you out towards the hunting grounds, your anxiety starting to go up when you saw a collection of bright lights centered on a clearing right in front of the lodge. Another cramp hit you and you whined, shivering in the cool night air and grateful that Carter was on suppressants so you didn’t have to worry about that on top of everything else.
One of Curtis’s Alphas was speaking to a group of strange Alphas on the lodge’s balcony, and you could see Betas moving through the group as they took bets. In front of them was a cage, and you could hear the speaker going over the Prime Alpha specimen and you felt your blood freeze. The scent of his rut hit you and you doubled over when your cunt throbbed, snarling at Carter when he parked the jeep.
“What’s going on?” You tried to pull away when Carter took your arm and started to pull you towards the clearing but he was too strong. “Is this a fucking joke?”
“No.” Carter shook his head when he thrust you under the lights. “It was his idea.”
You whined when you saw Curtis in the cage prowling around like a dangerous animal. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were wild, and you’d never smelled a rut so potent. Every instinct you had was begging you to submit, to bend over and present to him so he could knot you and get rid of the fever and pain that was torturing you. The sight of him restrained like that was killing you, making you reach out to him until he slammed against the bars.
“I can fucking smell you.” His voice was a vicious growl, sending a vibration through your whole body that made you whimper. “I’m gonna pin you down and fuck you like a bitch until my pup’s in your belly.”
“You rat bastard.” Being so close to him while both of you were victim to your primal urges was making you lose yourself, suddenly pressing your body against the bars and keening when he did the same with a snarl. “You left me by myself just so you could mate me for a fucking audience? I should kill you.”
“You can try, ‘Mega.” He wanted to lick you everywhere, you smelled so fucking good, making his hard cock throb painfully until he had to practically hump the bar he was leaning against. “Don’t think it’s gonna go your way. Besides, not like I could stay around that ripe fucking cunt for two weeks while my suppressants wore off without fucking you senseless.”
“Not my fault you wanted to turn into a fucking caveman.” Your body was screaming at you to give yourself to the Alpha, to present, to breed. You’d never felt anything like it, mewling and keening while you scented the bars right in front of his chest. “You could’ve told me what the fuck was going on.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Curtis rammed into the bars again and rumbled when you tilted your head back so he could see your swollen gland, licking his lips as he thought about what it was going to feel like when he finally knotted you. “Goddamn, I can’t wait to breed that little pussy. You’d better run for your fucking life, bitch.”
The two of you kept snarling at each other and grinding against the bars of his cage, your eyes blown wide with desire and need as your skin itched to be pressed against each other. Then the shot went off and you gave him one more smile, biting your lip before turning on your heels and sprinting into the woods. You didn’t even want to bother trying to find a hiding place, you just wanted to run. You wanted him to chase you down and catch you and pin you to the ground while he claimed you. Your blood was up, the moon was bright as it shone through the trees, and you wanted to give in to the wild instincts that were coursing through your veins.
There was no point in trying to be careful, so you let your body crash through the brush as branches whipped against your face and arms, leaving your blood on the sharp wood as they scraped and scratched your skin. After twenty minutes of running you heard a howl and almost collapsed when an enormous cramp made your core clench, your breath coming heavily as you fought through the pain and kept running. You could hear the trees groaning and shaking far away, knowing that he was drawing closer by the second and pumping your limbs even faster until your lungs were burning.
Curtis snarled viciously when he caught your scent, ripping a branch off one of the trees and throwing it aside after it slashed across his chest. He didn’t even feel the sting, completely consumed by the unquenchable lust that was filling his body. Your scent was calling to him like a beacon, your trail so clear he could have found you with his eyes closed. You were so close, and you were his. The fact that he had waited so long to claim you seemed stupid now when he was lost in a haze of pure want for you and the pups you would give him.
The air changed, and there you were. Both of you smelled each other at the same time, pausing to gaze at each other for just a moment before Curtis roared and you took off again. He chuckled when he heard you whimper, leaping over a fallen tree and stretching his legs to their limit so he could catch you. You were quick, but so was he, with longer limbs and not wracked by the constant pain you were as your heat tried to drive you to submit to him.
When he caught you you yelped, panting heavily as the two of you tumbled to the forest floor and he wound his body with yours in a tangle of limbs. Curtis shredded the delicate fabric of your shift with a snarl before he started scenting you obsessively, his lips meeting yours for only a moment then his face was buried in your neck. You could feel slick leaking down the insides of your thighs when he dragged his nose over your throat, your pussy throbbing as he breathed deeply and growled before moving to rub his face against your soft breasts. He chuffed when he lifted your arm so he could breathe in where you were most potent, making you shudder when he licked the smooth skin of your armpits then began biting his way down your stomach.
Curtis let out a deep growl and rolled you onto your stomach, biting your ass and barring his massive arm across the small of your back when you tried to wriggle away from him. He buried his face between your legs and started lapping up your slick, groaning at your taste while you quivered at his touch. As soon as he sat back up you presented for him, panting while you arched your back and bent your knees under your body.
“That’s a good little bitch.” Curtis ran his nose up your spine until his body was caging yours in, reaching down between the two of you to undo his fly while he licked your gland. “Gonna breed the fuck out of this little pussy, you’re mine.”
As soon as he shoved his cock inside you he sank his teeth into your gland and made you scream. His hands were braced on either side of your head as he began to rut into you, his voice rough each time he grunted against your skin. He was stretching you so wide it almost hurt, but you loved it. You dug your fingers into the soft earth when he started moving faster inside you, whining and biting your lip while his hips drove your body into the ground.
Curtis threw his head back and howled when you clenched around him and gasped as your first orgasm ripped through you. Your blood was filling his mouth and he’d never felt more alive, tangling his fingers with yours where your hands were braced against the forest floor. His breath came in heavy grunts as he kept fucking you in deep strokes, your body trembling as another gush of slick was pushed out of you by his fat cock. When he leaned back down to lick your neck you mewled, tilting your head to the side so he could suck on your new mark and lap it clean.
“Say it.” He nuzzled at your hair and crooned when you keened for him, his cock pummeling your swollen, wet pussy until he was soaked in your juices. “Say you’re mine.”
“Curtis…” You whimpered when he bit your ear and squeezed your hands with his. “I’m yours.”
“Fucking right you’re mine.” Curtis wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the ground, swallowing your sharp gasp when he pulled out of you so he could pin you against a tree. “Just mine.”
You wailed when his thick cock penetrated you again, the rough bark of the tree scraping your back as he hammered into you. His breath was hot against your neck as he pressed his body close to yours, chuffing in your ear while your pussy stretched and flexed around him. When you dug your nails into the bunching muscles of his back he groaned, driving deeper and grinning when you gave him a satisfying cry.
The look in his eyes was wild when he rested his forehead against yours, his fingers gripping your waist so tight they were going to bruise. You knew what he wanted. You wanted it too. You needed it, and him. You were never letting him go.
Curtis snarled when you bit his gland at the same time you squirted all over his cock, taking one hand off your waist so he could punch the tree right next to your head so hard the wood cracked. When the bond opened up you both groaned, the intensity of your shared emotions crashing around you as you smashed your lips together. His tongue curled against yours when you wound your arms around his neck, his knot starting to swell as his balls pulled tight.
The bond confirmed that the two of you possessed each other completely, your savage, primal instincts flooding your systems as you lost yourselves in each other. Curtis’s drool was running down your chin while he kissed you sloppily, making you moan as he kept his cock sheathed to the hilt and ground against your swollen clit until you shuddered. Your cunt clenched around him and he roared, his eyes screwing shut as he felt himself teetering on the edge of his peak.
You sobbed when his knot fully inflated and locked him inside you, letting him hold you up while his thick, warm cum flooded your womb. Both of you growled into each other’s mouths while you stayed pressed together, your eyes drinking each other up. Curtis kept rolling his body against yours as you both rode your pleasure out, wanting nothing so much as to keep you full of him for the next four days. Then the sound of one of the drones filled your ears and you hissed when a sharp stinging pain hit your neck. You saw a dart hit Curtis right before you blacked out, your body slumping against his.
When you woke up you were in a strange room, the window looking out at the empty woods where red and gold leaves were falling. You purred when you realized someone had transferred your nest to wherever you were, rubbing your face against one of Curtis’s shirts before rolling over to find him beside you. As soon as he felt you stir he opened his eyes and crawled on top of you, grunting when he just thrust inside you again immediately.
“Ah, fuck.” You moaned when he started to fuck you, your mouth falling open when he grabbed your neck and turned your face so he could lick into your mouth. “Where are we?”
“My cabin.” He drove deep and chuckled when your eyes rolled back in your head. “Had them knock us out so we didn’t rip them apart when they tried to move us. God, you feel so fucking good.”
“I know… shit.” You gripped his shirt tightly when his hips picked up speed, panting into his mouth while your pussy fluttered around him. “Don’t stop.”
“Mine. All fucking mine.” Curtis kissed you deeply and smiled against your lips when you moaned for him. “Anyone touches you again and I’ll rip their fucking spines out.”
“And if you ever go back to any of those whimpering bitches,” You bit his bottom lip until you tasted blood. “I’ll cut your dick off.”
“Good girl.” He growled and started grinding into you again, gripping the hair at the base of your skull and yanking your head back so he could lick your throat. “Don’t want any other bitch, just you and this sweet little cunt. You’re done running.”
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gremlinmodetweeker · 3 months ago
Text
Sweets and Sours and Maggots
So, a bit more Summoned!König because he's a big sweetie. No pun intended here, because this fic is all about travelling, dancing. and chocolate. A very soft drabble with lots of bickering between Summoner and König.
TWs: None, really. Wait, mentions of maggot cheese (which is a real food)
Wordcount: 1.6K
Art from this post
Story Below the Cut
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Sweets and Sours and Maggots
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“So, I’m just curious,” you leaned in close as König looked at you skeptically, “what does the other realm look like?”
König relaxed as he raised one hand, “Well, it’s much like this realm in most regards, thankfully.”
“Is it?” you quirked your head to the side.
“Well, except for the fast that the colours are beyond your human comprehension,” König finished, “and surfaces are usually inverted. Oh, and I suppose the strange echoing and the ever present sense of dread and despair can be a bit much to bear sometimes. The feeling of how small you are in comparison to the rest of existence is constantly on your mind. It’s inescapable. It’s a rather psychological realm, if you will. Much less tangible than this reality.”
You blinked, “That’s not like this realm at all.”
“Oh and I suppose there is the strange phenomena where darkness is light, and light is dark,” König continued, “and how the wind feels like a vacuum. It’s a bit strange, I suppose, when your only frame of reference is this existence.”
“And is the sky orange?” you drawled.
König stared at you, “How in the stars did you know?”
“Lucky guess,” you groused as you slumped into your chair, “so I’m guessing that the other realm is ‘beyond my mortal comprehension’, right?”
“You’d be correct in that assumption,” König quipped.
“So you’re never taking me there?” you sighed.
“I’m not particularly interested in collecting the shards of your bones across time, no. Why?” König leaned his chin onto his palm.
You shrugged, “I’m bored. I kinda wanna go somewhere but I don’t know where. You know that feeling?”
“Always,” König laughed, “I suppose you’re starting to understand what it feels like to be a creature controlled by the throes of chaos, yes?”
“My mom always called me a chaotic monkey,” you grumbled.
“Then maybe you have always had an affliction,” König offered, “but either way, you want to go somewhere? Somewhere other than here?”
“Anywhere,” you lay your head in your arms, folded messily over the table.
“Anywhere where you won’t drop dead of poison, implode and/or explode, freeze to death or be instantly incinerated, I’m assuming?” König checked.
You glared at him, “I don’t wanna die today.”
“I figured would ensure proper clarification,” König sniffed, “no matters, Summoner, I ask if you are interested in accompanying me on a journey?”
You perked up immediately, “Where to?”
“Well, I’m interested in retrieving a gift for my mother, and I figured a small little trip would do us well,” König took to his feet to stretch his long body out.
“Hold up,” you held up a hand, “you have a mom!?”
“Yes?” König turned to stare at you, “don’t you?”
“Yeah but like, I’m human,” you pointed out.
“Once I hatched I was raised by my mother,” König spoke slowly, almost as though he was worried he might break your mortal mind, “much like you were, no? She fed me from her breasts and raised me to be the being I am today.”
“So you’re saying there’s more things like you?” you asked bluntly.
König gasped and grasped at his chest, “Things like me! You do wound me, summoner! Gravely so!”
“Well I don’t know what you are! You’re just… I dunno,” you shrugged pathetically, “an avatar of chaos?”
“I’m a [REDACTED FOR READER’S SANITY], don’t you know?”
Once your head stopped hurting and the images had stopped flashing behind your eyes, you were able to shake yourself off and give König a proper glare.
“You did that on purpose,” you grumbled.
“I had a point to get across,” König replied.
“Okay but did you actually,” you grumped.
König closed his eyes and offered you a blithe shrug, “It was effective, so I believe so yes.”
“You’re literally the worst.”
“And yet still you hold a place for me in your heart,” König sang, “which I do appreciate, Summoner.”
“I hate you.”
“And yet your heart says otherwise,” König walked over to pull you to your feet, “now Summoner, tell me, are you not interested in going on an adventure together? Somewhere fun?”
“Your idea of fun is mentally scarring me on a Saturday afternoon at,” you checked your watch, “three-thirty in the afternoon. So, I’m gonna ask you again, is this really fun for both of us?”
“I do believe so,” König laughed as he twirled you in his arms, “I have an idea in mind. My mother has always been fascinated by human delicacies, and so I thought I might find some to bring back to her. What are your thoughts on accompanying me on this little quest, so to say?”
“What sorts of things would you be bringing her?” you asked as he turned you to face him.
“Well,” König took your hips in his claws and swayed you both from side to side, “I have heard some fascinating things from around this realm. I’ve heard of this fermented shark up in Greenland, but there’s also something called casu martzu from Sardinia, a little island off of Italy.”
“Um, what’s casu martzu?” you asked with a laugh.
“Maggot cheese, I believe it’s also known as,” König explained, laughing at how you scrunched your face.
“Do you think she’d like that?” you held back a gag.
“Well, do you have any better ideas for sweets?” König asked as he danced you around the room.
You looked at him carefully.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No?”
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“This is no joking matter, Summoner. Finding the finest sweets to bring back to my mother is of great interest to me.”
“König,” you sighed as you followed König’s steps, “you ate my chocolate, right?”
König leaned back, “I had thought you’d forgotten about that incident…”
“That was my period chocolate, König,” you bit back a snarky remark, “I’m not going to forget that so easily,” you held up a finger to his ‘lips’ (you suspected them to be a beak) and shushed him, “look, did you think the chocolate was what you’d call ‘sweet’?”
König nodded enthusiastically, “Very much so! It was delicious! It was absolutely superb! But of course, such a wondrous treat must be extremely rare, no?”
“I mean, yeah, I had that imported from Switzerland,” you admitted bitterly, “so it wasn’t like any regular old chocolate, but chocolate isn’t too hard to find.”
“Are you implying that I’m overthinking my gift?” König asked suspiciously as he dropped you into a dip, pulling you up just as easily.
“I’m implying that maybe you’re not choosing foods humans would usually consider ‘sweet’,” you explained gently.
König seemed a tad crestfallen, but was quick to recover, “Then why not go and get her some chocolate? Surely if it is as you say, it must be easy to get some of the best to bring back to my mother.”
“Well, I think we’d need to go pretty far to be able to get some,” you explained sadly, “the stuff on base is pretty shit.”
“Then let’s go to this… What did you call it… This Switzerland place!” König crowed, “it mustn't be too far from us.”
“König it’s an ocean away,” you drawled as you smoothly followed his steps around the room, taking a moment to twirl before facing him again, “and no we can’t just go get on a plane right now.”
“Why would we need a plane?” König snorted.
“How else would we get there,” you laughed before stilling, “König you’re not gonna teleport me there.”
“I think you’re being rather small minded right now,” König huffed.
“König I saw what happened to the cookies and the pizza,” you warned him slowly, “I don’t want to be killed by trying to travel through whatever magic thing you use to get around.”
“I think you’ll find I’ve improved my skills,” König sniffed.
“I don’t want to TEST-”
You were cut off by a loud VWOOSH as your world was encompassed by an inky darkness. You felt upside down, right side up and sideways all at once as a flurry of temperatures barraged against your skin. You clenched your eyes tight for fear of them being ripped from your skull. It grew hotter, hotter and hotter as you clenched your hands around König’s middle, holding as tightly as you could against the flurry of winds that threatened to tear you apart. You let out a scream, but it was completely drowned out by the raging winds and the vacuum of space around you.
Just as you ran out of breath, you stumbled to your feet. You carefully opened your eyes to find yourself in a small village square, dancing in König’s arms once again.
“König?” you asked carefully.
“Yes, Summoner?”
“Are we in Switzerland right now?”
König chuckled, “Well I’m glad your mind didn’t get scrambled by the journey.”
“You nearly did what to me!?”
“Hush, Summoner,” König held you in close, “just be happy you’re in one piece. Anyways, I never would have let such harm come to such a precious part of my life.”
“You’re lucky I like you,” you rolled your eyes, but relaxed into König’s arms.
“As you should,” König pecked you (quite literally) on the forehead.
“Ow!” you swatted his chest, “you need to stop doing that.”
“What, kissing you?”
“Pecking me!”
“Ah,” the bones under König’s hood cracked and pulled briefly before settling into a new place. He leaned down again to kiss your forehead, this time with chapped lips behind his mask.
“Thank you,” you smiled before reaching up to kiss his chin.
“Anyways,” König drew you both to a stop, “shall we get Mama some chocolates?”
“Mama?”
“My mother,” König chuckled, “did you forget why we came here?”
You tucked your face into his dark robes, “Of course not. I just didn’t expect you to call your mother ‘Mama’.”
“Mama means everything to me,” König stepped back to take your hands, “now, there should be a chocolate shop nearby. How about we go and get her something sweet?”
You stepped to stand by his side with a smile.
“Sure,” you agreed, “let’s go.”
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AU Masterlist
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ken-dom · 9 months ago
Text
Everything Looks Better When The Sun Goes Down
Driver x afab!reader
3k words
∘₊✧ Summary: Getaways usually come with a strong dose of adrenaline. He can usually deal with it himself, but this time a far more thrilling prospect presents itself.
∘₊✧ Authors notes: I wrote this well over a month ago, and finally decided to dust it off and post, with encouragement from K, with whom the Driver conversation is never-ending and delicious! I would advise caution because he's kinda creepy in this one (compared to how I’ve written him before). Title from Make Me Wanna Die by The Pretty Reckless.
∘₊✧ Warnings/content: NSFW, dubious consent, masturbation, fingering, sex, glove kink, kissing kink, just a dash of sneaky, creepy, stalker-y Driver
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Driver’s leather-covered fingers tightened with a creak of resistance against the steering wheel. He might know the roads like the back of his hand, but being the getaway driver comes with the occupational hazard of not actually being able to control what your chasers will do, no matter how clever and thorough your plan.
Even if you’ve seen every trick in the book. Even if you have something of a sixth sense for predicting their movements.
Surprises can’t always be avoided, and tonight he was doing his best to get out of a surprise.
This had been just a touch more complicated to plot than his usual getaway routine. Locations hadn’t been quite as simple to pin down so timings would be off and he couldn’t have that. The only alternative was to alter his default plan of action only very slightly, yet the risks, apparently, tripled.
Or maybe Driver had just been unlucky.
He had kicked out the two masked men he had been hired to drive, easily getting rid of them en route as part of the plan, sticking to time down to the second, and then embarking on the more unusual part two, which simply required Driver to get himself away and hide the car somewhere different to where he’d hidden them. The route was meticulously added to his map, the hiding spots checked, double and triple checked, ahead of time.
Yet, despite the police radio suggesting they’d lost sight of tonight’s unassuming car of choice, the cops had picked back up, hot on Driver’s trail the moment he pulled back out onto the main streets.
He didn’t bat an eyelid at first. He knew what he was doing, after all; this wasn’t his first car chase by a long stretch. If he wanted to ‘wing it,’ he could. Easily. But he would never. He would simply go about the bulletproof backup plan designed for the event that this unlikely situation would come to fruition. All was fine.
Except that he really couldn’t seem to shake them. Every move he made, it was as though they’d read his mind and were one step ahead. It wouldn’t have been possible, but it was as if they somehow seen his detailed maps. They were only for his eyes though, and if anyone ever did see them… well. He would have to make it so that they remained only for his eyes.
Whatever was going on here, it seemed almost like someone was out to get him personally. His jaw clenched at the thought and his heart began to slam against his chest, breathing fast and ragged.
He tried to refocus. On the road, on the soft interior of his jacket against his arms. On the toothpick almost chewed in two between his teeth.
There were limited options at this point, and he was running out of ideas, running out of streets to slip down before they could predict his next action.
Driver firmly reminded himself to stick to the facts and ignore his physical response. He was still ahead. Just. 
Actually, he was nearing your house. Oh…
No.
He shouldn’t distract himself, but it was hard not to notice that he’d pulled onto your street almost by muscle memory alone and he wondered if you’d see him, followed by that one police car that he was sure would soon be two, then three, sirens blazing.
It was darker down here. Residential, with parked cars dotted up and down the road, canopied with large leafy trees that blocked out the moonlight, too. So he killed his headlights and slowed down to avoid attracting any additional unwanted attention.
His ears pricked up as the discussion on the radio started up again in place of relaying the names of the streets they were chasing him down; they’d lost him again.
Just like last time they lost him. But they had found him as soon as he resurfaced, and he couldn’t sit out here on your street all night in plain view, no matter how unsuspecting the car may look to your neighbours.
A little blue Honda rattled by and he flinched.
Come on. Get a grip, he scolded himself.
His head began to pound.
He needed to find somewhere new to hide the car properly, and hide himself while he was at it. Fast. Somewhere he could stay for long enough that they’d really give up this time.
Another thought struck him and he blinked hard. He had to regain some self control. But your house was approaching on the right.
He couldn’t. Could he? 
His eyes scanned the street. There were no other Hondas. No other moving vehicles. He couldn’t see anyone peering out of their windows into the dark street. 
Then he found the end of your driveway, visible in the near distance. Your garage door was up. No car. You were out. Perfect.
No. He couldn’t.
Fuck. He was going to have to. 
Besides, if anything did come of this, he could keep you safe. He was sure of that. No harm would ever come to you on his watch. Ever.
He slowly pulled onto your driveway and rolled the car to a gentle stop inside the garage, winding down the driver side window to punch the button on the wall that controlled the garage door. With a low hum and a light clicking, it swung down and locked into place with a soft clunk.
Complete darkness. The purr of the engine. And then, the crackle of the police radio.
Driver tensed, every bit of focus honed in on the voices coming through the small device.
With a note of three identifiable items: the car colour, model and number plate (two of which could easily be altered), and a reminder of where it was last seen (the next street along from this one), they’d officially given up the chase.
He relaxed into his seat, slumping down and stretching his long legs as far as they could lengthen in the confinement of the footwell, spreading his knees and dropping his head back against the headrest.
He would need to stay here for now, but that was manageable.
He killed the engine, trying to force his breath even and steady himself before he got out. 
Although it had been tough, now it was over, he couldn’t deny that it had been exciting. There was rarely a time it wasn’t.
He felt a stirring in his core, the familiar thrill that ran through his trembling body every time he got away, high on adrenaline and filled with self satisfaction.
And he did get away. Every time. But this time? It had been a closer call than any he could remember and he was shaking, excitement coursing through his veins, sending all his blood south to throb between his spread thighs.
He chuckled, smirking and dropping his hands to his lap from where they were still bracing, tight storing the steering wheel. His breath caught in his throat as one palm slowly teased higher up his thigh.
It was becoming painful to sit here in these too-tight jeans, the denim rough against his leaking cock, and he hissed as he dragged his palm over the thrumming bulge that had formed inside them the moment he knew he was safe.
He felt a particularly thick drop of precum leak from his tip, gasping at the short lived relief his wandering hand had provided, gloved fingers now flying to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans and free his aching length, all patience out the window. It didn’t matter how long it took. He just needed the release.
But as the first button popped undone, his ears pricked up at the unmistakable sound of tires rolling onto your driveway behind that garage door. He froze, heart racing, cock twitching, every sense heightened almost painfully.
He relaxed when he heard your car door slam shut, the sound of your shoes on the gravel. He’d know those sounds anywhere. He knew all the sounds you made – he’d studied you enough – and had an entire catalogue of them stored away safely in the back of his mind.
Hastily, he reached for the radio and flipped the switch back on. Nothing. Nothing about him, anyway. Nothing about you. You were safe even with him locked away inside your garage.
He heard your keys jingling against the lock of your front door, knowing you were inside once it had clicked shut and the jingle was muffled.
He breathed a long, shaky sigh of relief.
Seconds later, his personal cell buzzed from inside his jacket pocket.
One hand resting still against the denim covering his aching hard on, he fished his phone out and unlocked it, absentmindedly rubbing his fingertips over his length and whimpering when he saw your name on the screen above the message you’d sent.
‘Hey, babe… you up?’
Another thick pearl of precum.
Fuck. He could hide in here all night, sexting with you from just the next room, or…
He didn’t bother fastening up his belt or that one button he’d opened when he swung the car door open and jumped out, biting back a moan at the friction of his jeans settling, slightly looser and more comfortable, against his cock as he stood.
He knew where you kept your spare key, and the combination on the safety box that kept it hidden, so he retrieved it and let himself in through the internal garage door that led to your kitchen.
Driver was silent. Barely a sound as he crept through the house, knowing every floorboard and the placement of every piece of furniture down to the millimetre.
The house was dark, which made it easy for him. You’d only switched on one lamp since you returned; the one in the hallway where you still stood, hanging up your jacket and waiting for him to reply.
Your phone laid unlocked on the sideboard, opened to the message you’d sent him as you slipped off your shoes, eagerly awaiting his reply. 
‘Come on,’ you breathed needily at your screen, ‘start typing!’ — and Driver swallowed hard.
He stuck to the shadows as he watched you, from the kitchen doorway, careful not to let his breathing turn too heavy, and certainly not above stroking himself over his jeans a couple of times just for the thrill of it.
You threw your shoes in the cupboard and picked up your phone again, checking to see if he was typing yet, and upon seeing that he wasn’t even online right now, you heaved a disappointed breath.
He might not have typed a reply, but he was ready to answer you.
‘I’m up,’ he breathed, hot against the back of your neck and you jumped, but his arms wrapped tight around yours, keeping you from fighting back, and he pulled you close as he breathed you in.
The still-gloved fingers of one of his hands hand toyed with the neckline of your shirt, ghosting around your throat as the other thrust unceremoniously into your jeans and dragged through your folds.
Even with his gloves on, he could tell you were already soaked.
It took you a terrifying moment, but your instinctual fear subsided, quickly replaced with burning arousal when you felt his cock pressing into your back, smelled his familiar scent, felt his glove teasing at your throat.
‘You are up,’ you sighed, reaching behind yourself to snake a hand between your flush bodies and drag your palm over his length in time with the fingers so precisely massaging your clit, and you moaned. Loud.
Driver’s knees felt like they might give out.
‘Mmmh-’ he hummed into your ear, ‘s-stop- fuck-’
You grinned, smug as ever about how easy he was to unravel, and at the wet patch you’d felt seeping through his thick jeans.
Despite the heat rapidly pooling at your core, you didn’t think on it for long, because any coherent thought was immediately pushed out of your mind when his hands left your core and throat, instead gripping your shoulders and spinning you to face him, slamming you back against the wall, his lips crashing onto yours with bruising force.
He pushed a thigh between your legs, pressing firmly against your heat and you moaned, muffled by his mouth as his tongue dragged hungrily against yours. Driver was always such a needy kisser, so passionate and intense and it made your head spin. But this was something else. 
You gripped him hard, moaning and writhing against him, and he shuddered at your reaction, whining against your lips before fully pulling away to focus on freeing his cock.
Slightly dizzy, you removed your own trousers as fast as you could, hooking a leg around his waist as he shoved his wet jeans down and pushed forward, lifting you in his strong arms to help you clamp your other leg around his waist.
His eyes slid closed as he felt your slick against his cock, trying with all his might not to spill his release before he’d fucked you. The adrenaline was still so fresh, spurred on by breaking in and sneaking up on you, that he could hear his blood pumping in his ears. He felt almost invincible; but he knew that with just one eager and misguided move he would cum, ending it all too soon.
No. He needed to feel you around him. Feel you clench with need. Hear you scream. Fill you up.
He closed his eyes to refocus.
Now you were pinned between him and the wall, he slipped a hand down to guide himself to your entrance, a simultaneous relieved groan from both of you echoing around your entrance hall as he slid himself inside.
He stilled for a moment, composing himself, forehead pressed to yours because he knew that a kiss, even a soft and tender exchange, would break him.
He also knew that right now, one thrust and it would be over for him, so he moved his fingers up, massaging your clit in slow, precise circles, as though this was all designed purely to give you time to adjust.
Your head dropped back and you squirmed, trying to fuck yourself on him as his fingers sent wave after wave of shuddering bliss through your body. The angle was delicious, but balanced around his waist you couldn’t move enough to get what you needed.
‘Please,’ you begged, ‘fuck me- please-’
Driver growled, low and dark, against your throat. He could never resist giving you exactly what you wanted, and he could feel your walls tightening around him already. A low groan tore from his throat. You were close too. 
Sicko, he thought. Like it when I break in and sneak up behind you? Shove a hand in your pants to try and get you off before you even realise it’s me?
Keeping his fingers against your throbbing bundle of nerves, he fucked you alright. Hard and fast and unrelenting, hips snapping frantically as he whimpered and gasped weakly into the thick air filling the inch between your mouths.
It was too late to stop his orgasm approaching. He’d been simmering for too long, and the way you’d kissed him, the way you’d begged him, the way you got wet just from him acting like a creep… his head was spinning.
The way he was fucking you, unceasing and intense, had you clawing at his jacket, wishing he’d taken it off so you could feel more of him, but there was no time. You pushed your fingers up to slide through his soft, neat hair instead, and he shuddered against you, biting down on his bottom lip. His blood boiled.
Fuck it. He smashed his lips back onto yours, tears pricking his eyes.
He finally spilled inside you, cock pulsing through his release. He squeezed his eyes shut, painfully aware you hadn’t cum yet, but his fingers on your clit hadn’t ceased, and as his cock began to soften, sensitive with aftershocks, he felt you clench tight around him. Your fingertips scraped against his scalp and your legs tightened around his waist and you cried out, loud and strangled, bucking your hips wildly as you chased your release.
Driver’s eyes welled with the tears he couldn’t bite back, dropping onto your shirt.
As you came down from your high, you stroked his hair back into place and slipped down from your position, standing on wobbly legs, head spinning, and Driver propped himself up with an arm against the wall, caging you in.
Your palm grazed his cheek, a tender thumb wiping his tears away.
He leant into your touch, eyes closed and breath slowing all the while.
‘So it was you who closed my garage door?’ you whispered, and he nodded against your palm. ‘Naughty boy,’ you added, teasing.
He looked up at you through the most stunning, sparkling, wet eyes and you knew you’d never stay mad for long – especially not when he fucked you so good and unravelled for you so easily.
‘Been on a job, baby?’ you cooed.
He nodded against your palm again.
‘Gonna jerk off in my garage until I arrived home and ruined the moment?’
Driver stiffened, eyes wide as he considered you, awed at the way you understood how his mind worked. Against his better judgement, he nodded, slowly.
‘Filthy boy,’ you added with a playful smirk. ‘Glad you found me instead, though.’
‘Yeah?’ he managed, weak and quiet, voice cracking.
‘Yeah. I fucking love it when you try so hard not to cum right away.’
His brow furrowed, but you hooked your fingers under his chin and lifted his gaze back to you, softly pressing your lips to his once again.
He whimpered, feeling weak, but he needed this more than anything after the rush. He was crashing, fast and needed comfort. Safety.
‘Wanna get into bed and make out until we fall asleep?’
Driver’s heart skipped, and he nodded again. It wasn’t always a bad thing to feel like someone was reading his mind.
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chronicbeans · 9 months ago
Text
Let's Make a Deal! (Yandere Queerplatonic Alastor x Fallen Angel Reader)
Part 2: Let's Talk
Part 1, Part 3
Tag list: @repostingmyfavs
TW: Dirty Jokes, Cannibalism, Implied Stalking
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You've lived in the Hazbin Hotel long enough to meet most everyone, now... meaning, two days. Everybody is so eccentric, that it's hard not to meet them, even when they barely leave their rooms. However, you have been noticing Alastor following you around, often... Eyeing you, as if trying to size you up.
You have been having a hard time adjusting due to his stares. Everybody seems relatively safe to be around, except for the deer man. So, you plan to confront him. By confronting, you mean just talking normally. Maybe he's just curious? He certainly seems like a man who doesn't understand social cues, so perhaps he doesn't realize how much he's unnerving you? You shouldn't judge him so quickly...
You begin searching around the Hazbin Hotel for Alastor. It proves difficult, since you still don't know your way around the building very well. That, and whenever you want to find Alastor, it's as if he hides from you. As you make your way down one of the various halls, you notice Angel Dust talking to Cherri Bomb. He looks over to you, waving. "Hey, toots! You looking for someone?"
You pause, before walking over to him. "Yeah. Have you seen Alastor?" Angel raises an eyebrow, before shrugging. "Nope. Have you looked in his radio tower?" "I don't know where his room is, Angel." Angel then pauses, before laughing "Oh! With how much he watches you, I would've expected him to invite you to visit his office, if you catch my drift?"
You feel your face flush, only for you to shake your head. "No! He doesn't talk to me, often. That's why I want to talk to him. He keeps watching me, but doesn't talk to me..." Cherri grins, nodding. "Yeah. Creepy fuck is like that. If you want to check his broadcasting station, it's near his room. You'll notice it. It's hard to miss it." "Thank you."
You quickly head up to the top floor. The halls of the hotel feel eerily empty. There's still not that many guests, so most of the floors are empty. Once you find an elevator, you hop inside, taking it all the way up... then, once the doors open, you see Alastor as you step out. You let out a squeak of shock as you see him, causing him to laugh.
"Oh, dear! I know I'm scary, but I never knew my mere presence was a fright!" He looks down at you, smiling. "Do you need anything?" You take a deep breath, looking up at him. His eyes seem to follow your every movement, like always. "Yes. I do. Can we talk? I've gotten to know everyone here, but not you."
His ears twitch a bit, his lips pulling back a little as his grin becomes strained. "What, dear? A simple conversation was so pertinent that you needed to come looking for me?" You instantly point to him upon hearing those words. Your wings flutter as you realize you caught him so easily. "That! That's why! How'd you know I was looking for you?!" You then tense, hearing an odd noise being emitted from him... Kinda like an elk or something.
Alastor leans forward towards you, his brows furrowed in anger, despite his grin being wider than ever. "Clever bird... Fine. You'll get your conversation." He then stands up tall, grabbing his microphone as he acts calm. "Follow me. We'll talk in your room. It's a calming atmosphere, especially with the changes you've made to it." He then begins walking to your room before you can even answer. Unwilling to fight him about it, you just follow along.
You enter your room. As Alastor walks by the fireplace, the wood inside bursts into flames, that red and pink hue returning. Then, he turns on the heel of his foot, sitting on one of the two plush armchairs in front of it. "Come now. You wanted to talk, so that's what we're going to do." He then gestures to the chair across from him, implying you should sit there.
Taking a deep breath, you walk over to him, stretching your wings out for a second, before sitting down. Unfortunately, you are stuck with your wings constantly present, a bit like Husk. You can't summon and hide them, like Lucifer or Vaggie... so, sitting down in chairs that have backs to them, like these plush chairs, tend to make your wings sore after a while. You look over to him as you sit down, nodding. "Yes... Let's talk."
Alastor leans back in his seat, folding his hands together on his lap as he crosses his legs, sitting politely. "So, my dear, what is it that you wish to speak about?" "Whatever you want to." "... What?" You sigh, leaning forward in your seat. "What do you wish to know about me? I've seen you watching me, so I assume you are interested in something about me? What is it?"
He grows silent, before leaning forward. "You are an angel, yes? A fallen one. How did you fall, dear?" Of course it was that question, first. You cross your arms, sighing. "That's quite a personal question... fine, though. Somebody lied, and was able to convince the court to cast me out of Heaven." You watch Alastor's eyes seem to glow with excitement. His leg bounces a bit as he responds. "A complete lie? Well, that's intriguing... it seems like Heaven works on a faulty system... How about a lighter topic, now? What do you like to eat?"
You nod, smiling. "(Fav. Food). I think it's tasty. And you?" Alastor chuckles softly. Then, he places his hand under his chin, tapping his cheek in thought. "I'd say... Jambalaya, since it reminds me of my mother. Otherwise, I love raw meat." You tense up, your wings flinching a bit. "Raw meat...?" He then cackles, looking at you with dark eyes. "You'd be surprised! As long as the meat is fresh, properly sourced and prepared, it's safe to eat raw... Of course, it's good to avoid raw chicken and fowl. But beef, venison, pork...? They're delicious raw. I also like a little nibble of humans and demons, from time to time..."
You tense even more. You are now wondering if he has a taste for angels... he probably does. "I see... um..." "Yes, dear. I'd eat an angel. You're not on the menu, though." "Okay." You look around awkwardly, before he asks another question. "Are you afraid of me?" "Yes. I am."
He chuckles, again, nodding. "Understandable, dear. Though, you shouldn't be. I'm here to help protect those in the hotel. You're a guest. So, I am here to protect you." He then stands up, taking a few steps over to the door. He pauses once he walks by you, grinning a sharp toothed grin. He looks like a a Cheshire cat, as he looks down to you. "Plus, you may be useful for something. However, that is a story for another day. For now, just relax." "How am I supposed to relax when I'm living in the same hotel as a cannibal?" "Cannibals have hearts, too, you know! More than most, since you are what you eat!"
He then cackles, again, walking out of the room. You can swear that his radio filter plays some audience laughter, too. He must think that joke is hilarious. What does he mean by "you may be useful"? Your mind is swirling with questions... For now, though, you just hope he'll stop watching you...
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