#but it was a quick one shot

[perseabeth]

The Promise of the Wild Sea

< this is not an official fic yet, i had this AU in my mind for a while, and now i got the time to write few parts of it. if the story was to your liking, i might get encouraged to make it an official fic. i’d like to remind you that i do not own any of the characters, as they all belong to the original myths and Rick Riordan. except for the oc Callista. however, i made some alternation in the myths that could benefit my story. i hope you like these changes. also this is a fem!percy version. enjoy reading >

- 1184 BCE, The fallen city of Troy -

Apollo stood in front of Callista’s pyre, the flames not yet lit, his gaze fixed on her lifeless face. Her once radiant beauty now drained, her cheeks no longer flushed with the color of life. Her hair, dark as the starless night, framed a visage that seemed at peace, a peace she had found only in death. Yet, she had stolen his peace with her departure, leaving him hollow and bereft.

With painstaking care, he had smoothed away every bruise, every mark of the cruelty she had endured, wishing to present her to the underworld in the full splendor of her glory. His Callista, his heart. He clutched the two drachmas in his hand, the coins a symbol of her final journey, but to him, they were a cruel reminder of his eternal separation from her. How could he consign her to the underworld, knowing he would be condemned to an eternity without her by his side?

His soul ached with a grief that seemed too vast to contain. With a trembling breath, he placed the drachmas on her closed eyes, sealing her fate, preparing her for her voyage to the underworld. She deserved a realm free from the sorrows of war and the sting of death, a place of peace and light. He swore on his immortal soul that she would find solace in Elysium.

Apollo leaned down, his tears falling like rain upon her serene face, pressing a final kiss to her cold, unresponsive forehead.

“Farewell, my Callista... until we meet again, my angel.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun god cradled her cheeks in his trembling hands, his soy blue eyes filled with the agony of days spent pleading with his uncle, the merciless lord of death, for this moment. She was there in his embrace, radiant as the true princess she was, her beauty untouched by the shadows of the underworld. Her black hair cascaded down her back like the soft night sky, a dark tapestry embroidered with stars in silken threads. Her eyes, those mesmerizing sea-green eyes, gazed up at him—the very eyes he had yearned to kiss open one last time before cruel fate tore her away.

But nothing unfolded as he had hoped.

"My lord," Callista whispered, her eyes shining with boundless love for the man before her. She wore a white, elegant chiton that clung to her form with an ethereal grace, adorned with a delicate laurel crown—a vision of Trojan royalty. Apollo shook his head, refusing to accept the words forming on her lips. "No, you are coming with me," he implored, tears welling up in his sky-blue eyes, each drop a testament to his anguish. He was begging, pleading for her to return with him to the world of the living.

The princess before him shook her head gently, her gaze unwavering. "No, my lord, I am dead. I am happy here," she said softly. She took his palm, still cradling her cheek, and pressed a tender kiss upon it, as if sealing their fates with that simple, heartbreaking act. "You must respect the rules of death, my love. You must go on and find happiness in the lands of the living."

Her words stabbed his heart, despite the delicateness of her voice, despite the sweetness of her words, and despite the loveliness of her eyes. She was pushing him away, each word like a dagger twisting deeper.

Callista looked at him again, her gaze filled with a sorrowful resolve. "I'm with my family, and you should be with yours. Lord Zeus will not be tolerable when he hears that you brought me back from death."

Apollo tried to reason with her, desperation lacing his voice. "But Uncle Hades has already accepted," he argued, only to be met with another tender kiss on his palm from Callista.

"I'm not letting you get into an argument with your father," she replied softly. She lifted her hand and gently caressed the strand of his hair falling on his forehead. Her melodic voice continued, soothing yet heartbreaking. "You will live on. You will find happiness again, I'm sure."

"My happiness is with you only," he insisted, his voice breaking.

But Callista only shook her head with a sad smile. "That's what you're saying now, because the pain is so new. But trust me, my love... time will go on, life will go on." She looked into his eyes, her determination unyielding. He knew there was no way to change her heart. She gave him a beautiful smile that could have brightened his days if not for their situation. "You did all you could. You made sure I found my final rest in a beautiful place. Now it's your turn to let go... to move on."

Apollo's tears threatened to fall, threatening to drown his eyes. He did the only thing he could do in that moment; he planted a soft, small kiss on her lips, a goodbye kiss filled with all the sorrow of a love that could never be. It was a kiss that spoke of unending longing and the crushing weight of farewell.

He would never force her to do anything. If she was happy, he would be happy, even if it meant an immortal lifetime of his heart shattering every day he remembered that she wasn't waking up next to him.

His time in the underworld was ticking away, leaving him with precious few moments to spare in the arms of his beloved. How cruel fate is, he thought, that even time refuses to grant him a longer respite to find peace in her embrace one last time.

He kissed her forehead once more, a goodbye kiss—the same kiss he had planted on her brow the day of her pyre, the day they consigned her body to the flames in a solemn ritual of farewell. He looked into those beautiful eyes one last time. "I swear to you, I’ll always find you in the stars, in the calm oceans, in the beautiful sunlight, in the warm flames, and in the serene mountains. You will always haunt me, forever haunt my life, Callista."

This earned him a sad smile from her beloved face, and he realized he loved all her smiles except this one. "Who knows, maybe someday you will find me again, amidst the moors or maybe in the wild sea."

He nodded, a silent nod, as a single tear traced a path down his cheek. He kissed her hands one last time and turned his back, leaving his beloved, leaving his heart, leaving the bane of his soul in Elysium, where she belonged. Before he stepped away, he turned to her one last time. "Someday, I’ll find you in the wild sea."

With that, Apollo left the underworld, each step a testament to the immortal lifetime of sorrow that awaited him, a sorrow he would bear for the love he could never truly hold again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- December, 2007. New York City-

"And now, sis. Transportation for the Hunters, you say? Good timing. I was just about ready to roll.

"These demigods will also need a ride," Artemis said, pointing to us. "Some of Chiron's campers."

"No problem!" Apollo checked us out. "Let's see... Thalia, right? I've heard all about you."

Thalia blushed. "Hi, Lord Apollo."

"Zeus's girl, yes? Makes you my half sister. Used to be a tree, didn't you? Glad you're back. I hate it when pretty girls turn into trees. Man, I remember one time—"

"Brother," Artemis said. "You should get going."

"Oh, right." Then his gaze landed on me, and his eyes widened with a mixture of shock and recognition, as if he had glimpsed a long-lost memory. The once vibrant blue of his eyes now bore golden freckles, a haunting reminder of his divine nature. "Callista?"

I met his gaze, my heart pounding with confusion and uncertainty. Was he mistaking me for someone else, someone from his past? “No. I mean... no, sir."

Calling a teenager "sir" felt awkward, but I knew better than to offend an immortal. They were known to have volatile tempers, and tended to get offended easily. Then they blew stuff up. and now Apollo seems to be on verge of blowing things up, or me perhaps.

His silence stretched on, his eyes still fixed on me, probing and searching. It was as if he was peering into my soul, unraveling the layers of my being with each passing moment.

Eventually, his gaze shifted to his sister, Artemis, who offered him a subtle shake of her head. Their silent exchange felt like a wordless, deep conversation, conveying a depth of understanding that transcended spoken words. Apollo cleared his throat, breaking the tension that hung in the air, before turning his attention back to me.

His gaze shifted abruptly from sheer confusion to a myriad of emotions I couldn't quite pinpoint. It reminded me of the way my mom once described my reaction to blue cookies or a serene beach—a mix of wonder and longing. Yet, as he looked at me, I saw something more. His eyes, now a crystal-clear sky blue, brimmed with an affection that seemed to encompass the entire world. It was a strange sensation, one that left me feeling oddly nervous, knowing that he was a god who could unleash his power at any moment. If it were anyone else, I might have blushed under their gaze. But facing a god for the first time, unsure if he was friend or foe, left me feeling unsettled rather than flustered.

"Percy Jackson," Apollo's voice cut through the tense silence like a blade. For a moment, it felt as though time itself had frozen, as if I were caught in a web of his penetrating gaze. I nodded silently. Then, without a word, he turned away, his attention shifting back to the group. The weight of his gaze that seemed to convey the burden of centuries, left me unsettled.

"Well!" he exclaimed in a cheerful voice again, as if the past few moments were nothing, breaking the silence. "We'd better load up, huh? The ride only goes one way—west. And if you miss it, you miss it."

—

i’d love to hear your opinion about this.

[help-i-lost-my-sock]

Lingerie HCs - Sanji, Ace, Law, Zoro

Word count: 300

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Sanji: 

Over the moon with whatever type of lingerie you wear, but above all, with the fact you did all that for him.

Assures you it's not necessary, but he certainly appreciates it

Will probably get a nosebleed

Will feel up every inch of you body trying to commit every little detail to memory forever

Is thoroughly convinced he's the luckiest man alive 

Ace: 

Is curious about edible underwear

Loves to see you in lingerie from time to time - the skimpier, the better 

Hint at wearing lingerie under your clothes and he'll follow you to the nearest bedroom or broom closet instantly

A nice set of lingerie will get his motor running in no time. After that, be prepared for him to rip it off you with his teeth. As nice as the lingerie may be, he finds that it often gets in the way and would much rather have you in your birthday suit - he's practical like that.

Law: 

Claims he doesn't care about it, but it's clear it does things to him every time you wear it

Will grumble about you distracting him from work

Big fan of lace and spandex

Sees it as a distraction and a tease, and will tease the everloving fuck out of you in bed to punish you for it

Zoro: 

Zoro doesn't really care about lingerie, I'm sorry. He doesn't really see the need for all the frills.

Can be quite dense about it, so hinting might not be enough. He’s more the "If you wanted to get fucked, you could have just said so" kinda guy (who said romance was dead?)

He’ll definitely let you wear it if you want to - it’s a ‘he gets off on you getting off’ kinda thing. 

Will still tease you about it though. Loves to see you get flustered. 

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Tag list:

@bitchimasnake-sss

@captainportgasdace

[coryosbaby]

i need more felix shit from u 😣😣

—Jealous Girl !

Fandom: ‘Saltburn’

Pairing: Felix Catton x fem! Best friend! Reader (also minor mentions of: Oliver quick x fem! Reader)

Synopsis: Tension and jealousy finally come to a head after you see your best friend Felix fucking another girl.

Content warning . Drug & alcohol use, watching without permission? possessiveness, friends to lovers with slight angst, dark! Ish reader // degradation & praise, facefucking, pnv, size kink, choking, breeding, mean! dom! Felix

If you ever explain how your best friend usually treats you, it can only be summed up into one word: gentle.

He treats you like glass. A beautiful, priceless artifact that requires great care. He pays for everything you own— your dresses, handbags, shoes. Even where you live, the infamous Saltburn estate. Every time he speaks to you, it’s like he’s speaking to a pet— sweet, gentle, but commanding all at once. In his eyes, you’re an innocent angel…or, as he puts it, a sweet bunny.

And you fucking hate it.

It doesn’t bother you in the sense that Felix cares for you; quite the contrary, in fact. You like his warmth, how protective he is, how sweet and kind he can be.

But he treats you too kindly. Too much like his other friends, too much like his sister, too much like a companion.

Not enough like a lover.

It seems that he’s completely oblivious to your longing stares, the way you follow him around and practically worship the ground he walks on. He never seems to grasp why you sit in his lap at parties, squirming around just a little too much, or why you cuddle up to him in his room when you’ve had a nightmare in your skimpy nightdress. He stares off into a space between and kisses girls right in front of you.

You want him to treat you like the sluts he brings home.

The whispers of how the boy fucks is something you’ve grown accustomed to. The girls you had become acquainted with who had slept with him, giggling to you about how much of a good lay he was. How mean, how brutal he was. How big he was.

‘This doesn’t bother you, does it? God, I know it’s weird because he’s your best friend ‘n all, but I don’t understand why you haven’t done him yet. I would’ve thought… y’know, given how close you two are...’

It makes you sick, knowing he does it to other girls and not you.

And now, sitting on a couch at one of Felix’s infamous Saltburn parties, you watch as he does it once again.

Your nose slides across the glass table in front of you. Two people sit beside you, making friendly conversation, but you can’t focus on them. Your nose is filled to the brim with glittery white powder as you stare at Felix’s new side piece through your faux lashes.

He’s got her in his lap, this girl. Olivia is her name, or something like that. You don’t like her. She’s too needy, clinging onto him a little too much for just a simple hookup. His hand grabs her hip as she presses kisses to his neck. He’s laughing, splayed across the leather couch across from you, as she whispers dirty phrases into his ear. You can tell that that’s what she’s doing because she’s grinding against him like a bitch in heat. It makes you stomach churn.

“(Y/N!)”

Your head looks up, and Farleigh stands in front of you. You give him a smile, though it’s mostly fake. You love him, but you can’t stop thinking about Felix.

Felix and her.

Farleigh chats with you about some guy he’s about to go and hook up with, telling you his whereabouts as a safety precaution. You nod to him as he leaves.

Felix has his hand up her skirt, now. He’s gripping her ass and rocking up into her clothed cunt.

You can’t look any longer.

You stumble to your feet, the room spinning a bit before turning to normal. An intoxicated kind of giddiness flows through you, and you brush past the couch and try to get Felix off your mind. You spot one of his new companions— Oliver. He’s quite handsome, you think. A little weird, a little quiet, but he’ll do for sure.

It isn’t long before you’ve got him in between your thighs in an empty corridor, a buzz flowing from your toes up to the crown of your head as he thrusts his tongue mercilessly into your drenched heat. He draws circles into your clit and laps at you like he’s parched. Oh, he’s good. Practiced, precise. He loves to please.

But he isn’t Felix.

Although Oliver’s tongue is skilled, it isn’t necessarily that that gets you to your peak. When you cum, you think of a familiar brunette with an eyebrow piercing, a wide smile, and dreamy eyes.

You let Oliver fuck you against the wall, after that.

It feels good. He’s big, rough, mean. Just how you like it.

Just how you want Felix to be.

You decide not to return to the party.

—

Your bare feet pad against the tiles of the Saltburn estate, your heels in your hand . The hallway is empty, save for one or two stragglers. No one really comes to this side of the house. You’re attempting to walk— or in this case, stumble— to your room. But everything is blurry, your feet dancing, and—

Shit, is this even your hallway?

You don’t know, really. You’re drunk, high. You don’t give a shit.

Your fingers are dancing across the walls, admiring the intricate paintings placed on each one. You lick your lips and taste a tequila shot, your dress askew. Fuck it.

You’re admiring The Fallen Angel by Alexandra Cabanel when you hear them.

It starts out slow— a deep, guttural moan, from the door to your left. It translates into a familiar voice, growling.

“What?” It teases. “Is my cock too much for you? Too big, huh?”

And then another sound comes through the thin walls and slightly opened door. A high pitched whine, pleading.

“Felix! Please, it feels so good.”

Your brows furrow. Drunken confusion. You silently creep up to the door, wondering. Your eyes peek through at the scene.

The color drains from your face.

Of course it’s Felix. Felix and her.

He’s got her bent over an expensive wood table. He’s pulling her hair, pressing his hips into her with every push and pull. She’s got her mouth open as her eyes roll back in ecstasy, and her cunt swallows him whole.

Your shoes drop to the ground in utter shock.

Now that seems to grab the pair’s attention. Felix looks back, and his eyes catch your dilated ones. He curses, slipping out of her and trying to conceal himself as he pulls his pants up. The girl catches sight of you, too, and she’s instantly pulling down her top and throwing her clothes on.

“Christ, Bunny!” Felix exclaims, flushed. “The fuck are you doing all the way over here?”

Your bottom lip wobbles, but you won’t cry. Not in front of him. Not in front of his whore.

You turn before you even know what you’re doing, and you scurry away from the scene with tears running hotly down your cheeks.

So much for parties.

—

When you wake in the morning, you’ve got a pounding headache and you’re sprawled out on your bed.

Your body aches, and you whine as you turn over on your side. The memories of last night flood back into your psyche, and you want to throw up. Of course the one thing you don’t want to remember is buried so prominently into your skull that it’s the first thing you think about.

It’s not like Felix hasn’t fucked anyone before. But seeing it, actually watching him do it to another girl, makes you sick. You don’t know how you’re going to look him in the eye at breakfast.

You stand up on wobbly legs. You make your way to the bathroom, throw your guts up at least twice, and then brush your teeth. A warm shower calms you down, though your head still hurts. You’ll have to take some ibuprofen later.

You make your way to the dining room in a juicy tracksuit and brown ugg boots. You slide a pair of sunnies on your face to protect you from the blinding sun, letting out a pained moan when it shines through the large stain glass window.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Farleigh coos from the table. You give him the middle finger before plopping down in a seat beside Oliver. His eyes scan over you, taking in your appearance. His knee bumps against yours, and he whispers a quiet ‘good morning’ to you.

God, he’s a clingy little shit, isn’t he?

Felix’s eyes follow your every move. Usually you sit next to him in the mornings, but as of right now, why bother? The closer to get to him, the more vivid the image of him fucking her comes into your mind.

You swallow down a few pieces of toast and some orange juice. Elsbeth is talking about a party reserved for Oliver for his birthday, one that they will host this weekend. How absolutely and utterly fan-fucking-tastic.

Oh, well. You’ll be able to dress up, at least. That’ll probably be the best part.

You ignore Felix for the entirety of the day. There’s still that fire coiling in your gut everytime you look at him, that hot bubble of rage and jealousy. Oliver looks up at you through long eyelashes during a game of tennis, and you find the way to satiate that heat.

—

It’s an awful idea. A terrible, mean, despicable idea.

You knew Felix would be out. It was around five pm— the time when he usually begins coming back to the house from his afternoon run. He would be back in twenty to thirty minutes.

“You’re incredibly fucked. Do you know that?”

Oliver whispers it huskily, pleased, as you push him down on a set of familiar satin sheets. You smirk, your cunt grinding down onto him.

“And you’re not?”

He grunts as you unbutton his shirt. You kiss down his chest, soon getting rid of your bra and top. You rock back on him slowly, teasing. His hand moves around to grope your ass, but you grab ahold of his wrist.

“Are you going to behave?”

A smirk plays on his lips. You want to slap it off of him.

“No.”

You snake your hand down to his bulge, giving it a considerable squeeze. He lets out a tiny gasp, biting his lower lip.

“What was that?” You say, almost threatening.

He gulps. He looks almost cute with the blush dusting across his face.

“Yes.” he whispers. You ghost your fingers over his waistband.

“What was that?”

“Yes, I’ll behave.”

He hisses it, and you’re pleased.

“Good boy.”

And then when he’s inside you, you bounce on him like your life depends on it. You look up above Felix’s bed, at the framed picture of you and him. He had hung it up, and for that you’re thankful. You concentrate on the way photo Felix’s fingers tightly grip a shot glass. Oliver lets out tiny whines as you clench around his cock, and you grind your clit against the base of him. You know that Felix catches you both when you look back at the slightly cracked door and see him there— blue headband, muscle tee and shorts. When you lock eyes, he moves away from the door and down the hall with a clenched jaw and cheeks blooming red.

—

The days pass from one into three, and soon it’s Oliver’s birthday. Felix has avoided you, much to your dismay. You thought he would give in sooner. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he was trying to pretend the situation didn’t happen altogether. But the hard stare he gives you whenever he sees you, the clenching of his hands, and the plain ignorance of your presence gives him away.

You’ve decided to dress as a Bunny for Oliver’s infamous costume party. Your favorite animal, but also another way to piss Felix off. Wearing a pink bodysuit, sparkly fishnets, and pink bunny ears, you make your way into the party beside Venetia, who’s ranting about her current situationship with some girl she met at a club. Scanning the crowd, you take notice of Felix from across the room. Angel wings sit on his shoulders, his eyes lined with a black eye pencil. He’s wearing a white wifebeater.

You go to the bar and take a few shots to stifle your nerves. Felix’s eyes follow you as you grab a bottle from the bartender and make your way outside.

It isn’t long before you’re absolutely plastered. Giggling to yourself, you make your way towards the hedge maze in the backyard. Felix’s voice, the one he hasn’t used to talk to you directly for a few days, interrupts your diddle daddling.

“We need to talk.”

You keep walking, him trailing behind you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Felix.”

His big hand grabbing your arm and spinning you around to look at him surprises you. He glares.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You back away, winding through the labyrinth of bushes. Felix groans as you begin to skip around each corner.

“This isn’t a game, y’know!” He calls, as he tries his best to keep up with you. It isn’t long before you’re both standing in the middle of the maze. The stone statue overpowers the both of your bodies as it leers down in a violent pose. You smile crookedly when Felix stalks over to you, making a beeline for the other side of the statue. It doesn’t seem to be funny to him.

He catches you when you least expect it, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, (Y/N)?!”

He yells it, infuriated, deep vocal cords strumming. It makes you jump. He never calls you by your real name.

He purses his lips, anger evident on his face as you smile up at him still.

“‘M jus’ having fun, Fel. Whats wrong with that?”

“What’s— what’s wrong with—“ he laughs, dry and humorless, as he pushes you away from him. “Whats wrong is that you fucked my friend in my room! What the hell went through your head?!“

You clench your teeth.

“I don’t know, Felix,” you utter sarcastically. “I really don’t know. Call it irritational horniness. But tell me. Are you mad? For once, once in your fucking life, are you mad?”

“Of course I’m mad!” he seethes, as if it’s obvious. “But why do you want that? What prompted this?”

You avert from his piercing gaze, turning your back on him. Your cheeks are flaring with heat from how he’s treating you, your inner thighs wet and sticky.

God, this is so wrong.

“I think you know.”

Genuinely confused, Felix throws up his hands. He’s exasperated.

“No, I don’t. I don’t, (Y/N), so tell me. Tell me the damn truth!”

“The truth?” You say, finally. “‘S that what you want?”

You whirl around, anger finally taking over in your usually pliant, doe eyes.

“The truth, Felix, is that you treat me like a kid!” You yell. Your voice cracks, and you hate it. “You treat me like a fucking child! Like your friend! Like a… like a—“

Your breath heaves, and you try to find the words you’re looking for. Felix looks at you, his brows furrowed.

You can’t open your mouth anymore, too distraught, too open. You’re saying all the things you promised you’d keep buried deep inside you.

Felix takes a step forward. You take a step back. Your lower back hits the stone statue, and you wince at the way it digs into your skin.

“What are you saying?” He asks, careful with his words. You laugh bitterly in his face— at least, as close as you can get to his face. He towers over you like a giant.

“I’m saying that after all this time, after all these years, I thought you’d notice how badly I want you. But clearly not, with the way I caught you fucking that cunt last weekend.”

The words finally come out— slurred because of your drunkenness, dry because you’ve given up. You’ve given up on Felix, on the possibility of him ever returning the feelings you’ve always had for him. You’ve given up on your friendship, on his kindness. You don’t want it anymore. Why continue this if it’s only going to hurt you?

The boy is stunned into silence for a mere moment.

“What?”

You turn away from his stare, looking down at the ground.

“You heard me, Felix.”

His eyes follow your lips, nose, eyes. His lips part ever so slightly, and his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black as realization settles over him.

“So that’s what you want?”

It comes out hushed, like a secret. His breath is hot against your lips as he leans in close to you.

“All this time you’ve been acting like this.. all because you want me to fuck you? Because you’re jealous?”

You stare up at him in a daze, silent. Your cheeks flare with embarrassment. You jump when Felix lets out a chuckle, something grating and deep, that permeates your bones and worms its way inside your guts.

“God, you’re sick.”

He scoffs, moving forward on his long legs. His big hand wraps itself around your hair and tugs. You let out a gasp as he tilts your head back, the burn of your scalp making your legs clench together.

“You’ve been torturing me for weeks—“ he spits, yanking at the roots of your hair even harder, and you let out a squeak. “— Not speaking to me, making me question what I could’ve possibly done wrong, fucking my friend in my bed, all because you want to me treat you like some whore?“

Your mouth gapes open, and you’re frozen like a deer in headlights as Felix finally gives you what you want. He continues to speak, but not before his knee is coming up to rub in between your thighs. It’s such a sudden movement, so aggressive, that your legs buckle and you grab onto his shoulders for purchase. His hands splay across your hips, moving you in tandem across the fabric of his jeans.

“Don’t worry.” He says. “You’ll never have to worry about that again.”

“Felix—” you start, but his hand slapping you clear across the face makes you lose all words. Your cheek flares with heat from his hand coming down on it, and you grasp the red mark in pain.

“Was he good?” he growls, grabbing the hand touching your face and putting it in his much larger one. He places it over his crotch, and you feel the giant bulge against the fabric. “Was he as big as me? Did he fuck you the way you thought I would?”

You shake, stuttering on every phrase in your vocabulary. Felix grinds into your hand.

“You think that I don’t want you like this?”

It comes out strained, tortured. Like it’s painful for you to even assume that. Your mouth waters at the feeling of his girth underneath your palm.

“I’ve never been this hard for anyone,” he breathes. “I jerked my cock every night when you were in my bed because I thought it was the closest I could get to you. I fucking…God, do you even know what you do me?“

He works his thigh against your pussy, and you whine desperately as you pull away from his assault on you. You kiss your way down his chest, worship his body, lave your tongue over the skin peeking out from his unbuttoned shirt as you sink down to your knees. Your hands fumble with his belt, waiting for the moment when his cock will be released and you’ll finally get what you’ve been begging for. He grunts, tilting his head as he watches you desperately fumble with the leather around his waist.

“Already trying to suck me off? You’re even more pathetic than I thought.”

You press your mouth against his thigh and practically drool at his words. He looks down at you like a God, golden angel wings splaying out in the moonlight for you to gape at. How ironic it is, that he decided to wear this costume tonight.

“All for you, Felix,” you say, pulling his cock out of the confines of his jeans. You gape at his impressive length.

“That’s right,” he agrees, his thumb brushing over your lip. “Now put me in your mouth. Show me how much of a fucking slut you are.”

You do as you’re told, tongue lolling out to lick a stripe up his shaft. He clenches his jaw, watching as you hold eye contact with him when you take his dick into the warm, wet confines of your mouth. His hand wraps around the nape of your neck and he pushes you down onto him. Choking, your nose hits the soft bed of pubic hair trimmed neatly at his base. Your eyes roll back as he begins to fuck your throat, pleasure and electricity flowing through your head and down to your toes. The corners of your mouth burn as he stretches out your mouth.

“Didn’t know you could take dick so good,” Felix muses, his balls slapping against your chin. “If I would’ve known how badly you wanted this, I would’ve slid my cock inside you the night you caught me with that girl.”

That girl. He can’t even remember her name. It satisfies something dark that’s been blooming in you since you saw him sticking his dick where it didn’t belong.

You moan around him, spit trailing down your neck as you tongue at his slit. Your hands grip his big, meaty thighs, and it occurs to you just how strong he is. He could break you, rip you apart piece by piece, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The thought arouses you to no end.

“You pissed me off so fuckin’ much that night, y’know that?” He rambles, his thighs squeezing the sides of your face. He’s practically trapping you against his cock, and you try your hardest to breathe through your nose but you can feel your vision blurring at the edges. “You caught me in the middle of it, didn’t even say sorry. Didn’t help me finish. You’re a sick little bitch for watching me fuck her. I bet you touched yourself after that, didn’t you? Touched your little cunt thinking about the way I used her?”

You whimper around him, your fingers attempting to move down and rub against your clit. But Felix lets out a sound in the back of his throat and kicks your hand away.

“Don’t. You don’t get to cum tonight. You put your hands on me, or you don’t put them on anything at all.”

Your hands wrap around the back of his thighs, then, as you hollow your cheeks around him. You’ll do anything he demands you to.

After a long moment of being face fucked with only a few breathing breaks in between, your throat is scratchy and raw. Felix yanks you off of him, and you wheeze as you’re thrown to the ground, your hand going to your throat as your eyes drip with citrine tears. Felix stands for a moment to let you catch your breath. He’s still your best friend, after all— he cares about your well being, as angry as he is right now.

It isn’t long, however, before he’s grabbing you up by your elbow and bending you over the marble statue. Your cheek lands on the cold stone, the crotch of your bodysuit is ripped open, exposing your lace panties and the fat globes of your ass. You stick yourself out for him, moaning as he rips your underwear off of you and throws it on the ground. He spreads your legs and coos at your dripping cunt.

“Oh, look at that,” his fingers go to either side of your pussy lips, spreading them apart and revealing your teeny tiny hole. “It’s clenching s’much, isn’t it, sweetheart? It’s all swollen ‘n red. It’s been so worked up all night, I bet.”

“Felix,” you cry, a blubbering mess. “Please.”

He chuckles, rubbing the tip of his finger against your clit. You quiver underneath his touch, gasping when his aching cockhead suddenly brushes up against your entrance.

“I want to know how badly you want me. Tell me, darling. Tell me how pathetic you are.”

“I want it,” your voice comes out small, weak. “I want you to fuck me until I can’t feel my legs. Wan’ you to stretch me out on your fat cock, Felix. Give it t’me, pleasepleaseplease…”

He lets out a dreamy sigh, feeling you trying to clench around the tip of his cock, trying to suck him in. Your head is fuzzy, your cunt throbbing. You need him more than you need air.

“Okay,” he lets out, whispering. It’s an oddly gentle tone, and you know it’s because this situation could change the outcome of your friendship forever. “Okay, sweetheart.”

He pushes forward, the fat tip of his cock popping into your entrance, and you let out a mewl. Felix is big, and not just in his height or his shoulders. He stretches you so deliciously to the point where it’s borderline painful.

“Oh my god,” he grits his teeth, his head tipping back. “God, you’re a tight little thing. So tiny..”

You know he’s talking to your pussy now, drunk off the way you’re wrapping around his shaft. He moves slow, gentle strokes against your aching pussy, his fingers digging bruises into your hips as he struggles to contain himself.

Your cheek is smushed against the hard surface below you, but that doesn’t stop you from speaking.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, moaning. “Destroy me, rip me apart.. I don’t care, Felix.”

He moans along with you, a sound of pure, unleashed pleasure. His hips speed up, and he fucks into your cunt with reckless abandon as your nails dig into the marble below you. His cock is so deep that you can almost feel him in your throat.

He angles at a spot inside that has you keening, your hips fucking back onto him as he rams into you. Your nails scrape against the statue, tears running down your cheeks.

“Felix,” you moan out, but it’s hard to speak as the breath is being knocked out of you.

“Mmm,” he hums, grabbing your hips. “‘M gonna cum. ‘M gonna cum in your sweet little pussy.”

“Please,” you gasp. “Please, fill me up, fill up my pussy!”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” His arms lift your body up, and his biceps curl around your neck. Your eyes widen as he tightens his grip, placing you in a chokehold underneath him. His hips slap against yours, his steady words bordering on a whine. “You want me to cum inside you? Get you all pregnant and full? Mmm, that’d be a pretty sight, wouldn’t it…”

You clench down on him. He growls, a sigh of your name tumbling out of his mouth. His hips stutter. And with one last harsh thrust, he’s cumming. His warmth fills you to the brim and spills over the cusp as he fucks into you, teeth scraping against your neck as he bites down and leaves a mark. Sweat drips drown your temple, small pants escaping your lips as you try to swallow oxygen into your lungs. Felix’s arms are still wrapped around you neck, but they aren’t wrapped tight enough to cut off your air completely.

Definitely tight enough to bruise, though.

He slows, after a few more moments. You still grind onto his overstimulated cock, and he squeezes your throat in warning.

“What did I tell you? You don’t get to cum tonight.”

Your face becomes blotchy with tears, and you sob as he pulls out of you. His cum spills down onto the concrete floor, your pussy gushing with his seed, and you want to scream.

“But Felix,” you babble, grabbing onto his arm as he tucks himself back into his pants. “No, baby, please—“

“This is what you wanted,” he replies, nonchalant, as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out. His glances down at the creamy spend that had fallen out of you and onto the ground. Grabbing you by your hair, he pushes you down onto your knees. He gestures to his cum, licking his lips.

“Now clean that up,” he demands. “Wouldn’t want to leave a mess, would we?”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry

[kaleldobrev]

Tattoos

Pairing: Felix Catton x F. Reader

Platonic Pairing(s): Venetia Catton & F. Reader | Farleigh Start & F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Felix Catton, Venetia Catton, Farleigh Start & Oliver Quick

Summary: Not only are you dating Felix and best friends with Venetia, the three of you have matching tattoos — something that Oliver simply cannot stand

Word Count: 967

Warnings: Voyeurism (briefly mentioned), Nudity (implied — as this takes place in the field), Unprotected sex (briefly mentioned/implied)

Authors Note: I love the little detail that Felix and Venetia have those matching star tattoos on their hands, so I came up with this little fic about how reader has matching tattoos with both Catton siblings (cause I honestly feel like that’s such a Felix and Venetia thing to do) | This is also my first ever Saltburn fic so I’m hoping that I was able to do the characters justice | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Oliver couldn’t help but stare at the small crescent moon tattoo on your ankle; the exact same crescent moon tattoo that both Felix and Venetia had — and in the exact same place — the right ankle.

He wasn’t…jealous, no that wasn’t the right word, but that was the only word that came to mind for him. He didn’t want a tattoo, was never a fan of them on himself, but, seeing you in particular with this tattoo was hitting him, hitting him harder than he’d particularly like to admit. You weren’t family — you were Venetia’s best friend and Felix’s…girlfriend. He understood the little stars that Venetia and Felix had — they were siblings and had an intense unique bond. But you…you were nobody to them less than 5 years ago. But here you here, the three of you with matching tattoos and you strutting around the estate like you were already a Catton.

He must have been staring in one direction for too long, as he heard Felix's voice calling out to him. "You alright there Ollie?" He asked, and Oliver found himself snapping out of whatever trance like state he had just been in.

“I’m f—I’m fine,” he said, trying to sound a little bit more confident than he currently felt in this moment.

When Felix spoke, not only did he turn to look at him, but you, Venetia, and Farleigh did as well. “Are you sure?” You asked, genuinely concerned about his well-being. Oh, how he despised how much you truly seemed to care.

"You've been staring off into space," Felix added. "What'ya staring at?" He asked, placing the lollipop he had been sucking on back into his mouth.

"Probably Y/N's ass," Farleigh teased, and you swatted his arm playfully; giggling briefly. Your laugh disgusted him because of how sickingly sweet it sounded.

"Farleigh, I'm sure he wasn't," you said defending him. You turned your attention to him, a soft smile on your lips. "Isn't that right Ollie?" You asked. He could barely see your face between the combination of the bright sun and your giant sunglasses that seemed to take up the entirety of your face, similarly to that of Venetia's sunglasses.

"Yeah, wasn't...staring," Ollie answered; his vocal tone sounding a tad nervous; and a little embarrassed. He wasn't looking at you, not in that way; you weren't the reason he was here, Felix was.

"I wouldn't blame ya Ollie," Felix began. "She does have a nice one," he finished, his voice almost sounding proud as he smacked your bare rear in front of the four of you.

You let out a tiny yelp; not the usual kind of moan you usually let out whenever he's heard you and Felix have sex. "Get a room you two," Venetia said, briefly glancing up from her book.

"We have a whole estate love," you winked; both you and Felix started laughing in response.

"Not when I'm still living here," she added.

"I second that," Farleigh said, chiming back into the conversation as he raised his hand in agreement with Venetia.

"Prudes," you mumbled underneath your breath, slightly teasing.

"Hey!" Venetia exclaimed. It was her turn to playfully swat you. "If anyone is the prude, it's little Ollie over there." She grinned. "Ollie, when was the last time you had sex?"

"V!" Both Felix and you exclaimed.

"What?" Venetia asked, her tone slightly clueless.

"You cannot just ask people that. It's a little rude," you stated.

"It's not rude. It's a perfectly fine question," she defended. "For example," she began, turning her attention to her brother. "Felix, when was the last time you had sex?" A smallish grin forming on her lips; as if she already knew the answer to her question.

"This morning," he responded all too quickly, and you swatted him on the chest, which caused him to smirk at you in response. Oliver knew all too well the truth in that statement, as he had a slight front row seat to yours and Felix's morning activities. He didn't see anything, but he heard everything as if he was in the room with the two of you. The moans the both of you let out, the dirty talk the both of you shared — performing in such a way as if the two of you were the only two in the entire estate. He wanted so much to see it, to open the bedroom door, he knew that the door would have creaked — pressing his ear against the bedroom door sufficed...for now anyway.

"Kinky," Farleigh smirked, and you rolled your eyes.

"All of you are ridiculous," you stated, closing your book as you started to slowly kick your feet in the air. "Don't answer her Ollie."

"It was before uni," he mumbled.

"What'ya say Ollie?" Felix asked, raising a brow.

"Before uni," Oliver said a bit louder this time.

Felix and Venetia exchanged looks before Felix looked at him with a slightly devilish looking grin. It was impossible not to love any kind of smile he would give. "For your party tomorrow, we'll get you laid. It'll be my birthday present to you."

"Kind of a lame birthday present, love," you teased.

Felix let out a small laugh. "You weren't complaining when that was a part of your birthday gift last year," he teased back. That's when he leaned in, kissing you in the most loving way possible; and Oliver actually felt like he was on the verge of throwing up looking at the two of you. He had witnessed the two of you kissing plenty of times, had witnessed snippets of you two being intimate in various ways, but for some reason, this particular interaction had almost set him off. Felix was so madly in love with you that it physically pained him to see it.

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[goddessofvalyria]

MANEATER | Michael Gavey x fem!reader.

Summary: The popular girl meet Michael Gavey, the nerd boy who has a crush on her at the party. This one-shot is based on "Maneater" a song by Nelly Furtado.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns (she is described very beautiful, charming and fashionable and she has a friend named Milly), she and Milly kissing for joke making Michael horny. Oral (f receiving), masturbation (f and m receiving) SMUT, sexual tension, sex, sex, sex, Michael being insecure and virgin.

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 5421

Oxford, 2006.

The club was located a few minutes outside Oxford University. As soon as we entered, it was a whirlwind of lights and deafening music. She and her best friend Milly arrived together and as soon as we entered, she felt all eyes on her. Sure, she was the most beautiful girl in the whole university, the most popular and also the biggest bitch. She was wearing a sparkly top and a glittery fishnet skirt, her hair left loose and a strong perfume covering her skin. She was so beautiful and confident, she walked through the crowd leaving the scent in her wake. Michael Gavey, the nerd of Oxford was there all alone. His only friend Oliver Quick had convinced him, before leaving him alone and joining Felix Catto's group. She saw immediately, his face was a mask of discomfort in the crowd, his gaze searching for something - or someone. Oliver and Felix were already drunk, a cumbersome and provocative presence, making a mess with their group of stupid friends. Michael wanted to go back to his dorm and study or maybe read something about math, he had no idea why he had agreed to go to a place where he felt out of place and uncomfortable. He was wearing a shirt and cargo pants, his sweater over his shoulders and his rectangular glasses on his face. He hated that place. He had tried to socialize, but they had all kicked him out.

Milly grabbed her friend's hand and dragged her to the dance floor. They danced to the music, trying to get lost in it, but she could still feel everyone's eyes on her and she couldn't help but appreciate it. She loved being looked at, especially by boys and their ugly, jealous girlfriends. That was shortly after, when Michael Gavey saw her. She was the most beautiful girl in all of Oxford and everyone, absolutely everyone had a crush on her. And he, like a poor fool, had fallen for it. It was enough for him to see her in the hallways of the school at the beginning of the year, her hair loose, dressed in mini skirt, a top that she wore without a bra and the trail of perfume she left when she passed in front of him. She had noticed it several times, but Michael knew that those like her were maneaters, girls who only wanted to appear and never really be. Girls like her were diabolical and in his sarcastic nerd mind, even a little slutty. It was not new that she had fucked with some boys in her math class and other rumors said that she had had a threesome with Felix Catton and Oliver Quick. But this last gossip, was just his supposition.

"She would fuck them all, if she could" Michael spat acidly, watching her dance and move her ass. She and her best friend danced almost in symbiosis, moving in sync against each other. Michael continued to watch them, but he knew the technique of those two damn girls: they acted that way to excite the boys and then fuck them in the bathrooms. One was more diabolical than the other.

She noticed, Michael Gavey was not taking his eyes off her and her best friend, so she looked at Milly. "The loser is watching us" he shouts in her ear. "Michael Gavey, the fucking nerd loser who wants to fuck?" Milly laughed.

"Yes exactly, little Mikey" she laughed. "What do you say, we make him lose his mind?" she joked. "He's looking at us like he wants to get a hand job right here and now" Milly continues. "I'm in" she agrees, so the two girls come closer and kiss with tongue. It's not the first time they've done it, in a disco, they do it almost all the time. It's their technique and it's always worked. The relationship between her and Milly is purely platonic, as they consider each other like sisters.

Michael Gavey froze when he saw them kiss. His heart skipped a beat, and his face flushed a deep crimson. For a moment, he couldn’t move, couldn’t think—his mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions, a cocktail of lust, disgust, and shame. He had heard the rumors, the whispers in the halls, and the taunting jeers from guys like Felix, but seeing it with his own eyes was something else entirely. He had known she was provocative, knew she liked the attention, but this was different. This was cruel.

The kiss between her and Milly was anything but innocent; it was a performance, deliberate and calculated. Michael’s stomach twisted as he realized they were doing it for the attention—his attention. It was as if they knew he was watching, knew he was the one fool enough to be entranced by their display. He could feel the mocking laughter bubbling up in his throat, but it was aimed at himself. He had always been the outsider, the nerd who didn’t belong, and now he was the butt of their joke.

As they pulled apart, their eyes flicked towards him, confirming his suspicions. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from her. She was laughing, that cruel, beautiful laugh that made him feel so small. He hated her in that moment, hated her for making him feel this way, for making him want something he could never have.

But even as he felt the anger rise within him, there was another emotion lurking just beneath the surface—desire. It disgusted him, this twisted need to be noticed by her, to be the focus of her attention, even if it was only to be humiliated. He cursed himself for it, but the desire was there all the same, gnawing at him, making him feel dirty and pathetic.

Michael turned away, his face burning with shame. He could still hear their laughter over the thumping bass of the music, and it felt like knives in his chest. He had to get out of there, away from the lights, the noise, and the suffocating sense of inadequacy that clung to him like a second skin. He pushed through the crowd, his movements jerky and frantic, desperate to escape the scene, to find a quiet corner where he could be alone with his humiliation.

The music pulsed around them as she and Milly continued to dance. She tried to shake off the tension, losing herself in the rhythm of the song. Milly moved closer to her, a sly smile on her face. “Sister, did you see Michael Gavey’s face when he saw us kiss?” she shouted over the music, laughing. “Damn, I bet he got horny…”

“He’s always so into studying, like having fun is a mortal sin.” She took a cigarette from her clutch and put it between her lips. Milly nodded vigorously, her smile growing wider. “That’s right! He’s such a loser. Sometimes I wonder if he even knows how to have fun, but he definitely got horny a little while ago and is probably in the bathroom jerking off.”

Milly took her hand, spinning her around. “Speaking of Michael Gavey, have you heard the gossip about him?” I raised an eyebrow, curious. “What gossip?”

“He’s a fucking virgin and he thinks you’re a whore because Oliver Quick, that bastard, spread the word that you, him and Felix Catton had a threesome.” Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Really? What the fuck, men are so pathetic when you reject them.” Milly nodded, her eyes shining with excitement at the gossip. “Yeah, it’s pretty disgusting, isn’t it? Imagine their disappointment though, you, the most beautiful girl in Oxford rejecting those two…”

“I decide which boy I fuck when and how,” she replied, visibly annoyed by the gossip. “But if you…” she immediately understood her friend’s intentions. “No!” I held up my hands as I took another cigarette from my clutch. “Not tonight.” “Seduce and fuck Michael Gavey, go ahead, make your fantasy come true. Let's see if you can loosen him up a bit," I looked at her, surprised and amused. "He disgusts me" she replied rudely. "He's a virgin and he's definitely never kissed anyone, he'd come like a boy in his pants on his first kiss."

Milly shrugged, a mischievous smile on her lips. "Why not? It could be fun, and who knows, maybe you'd discover something interesting. Maybe he's not as boring as he seems." She thought about it for a moment, the idea of ​​accepting the challenge mixed with curiosity. "Okay, I accept the challenge," I finally said, a determined smile on my face. "I'll show you that I'm not afraid."

Milly applauded, enthusiastically "Maybe you'll end up having more fun than you imagine" "With a little virgin?" she approached the aicha dancing to the music. "Who knows, maybe the little virgin has a big dick under those cargo pants and is waiting for you to teach him how to use it." "There he is, he's back," Milly said. "Go and fuck him" The challenge was on, and she knew that tonight would be just the beginning of a dangerous and intriguing game.

The music throbbed around them, adrenaline pumping through their veins. She walked over to Milly’s brother David, who was one of the DJs. “Put this on.” He gave her a knowing smile. “What are you two doing?” “We’re just having fun.” As the music changed to Nelly Furtado’s “Maneater,” she felt the energy in the room rise. She moved toward Michael, feeling everyone’s eyes on her as I made my way through the crowd. The nerd was still looking at her, visibly uncomfortable, but still excited from earlier. With a bold smile, she walked over to him and grabbed his hand.

“Come dance with me, nerd.” He looked hesitant, but before he could refuse, she dragged him onto the dance floor. The music engulfed them, and I began to move to the beat, trying to shake the rigid composure that seemed to bind him. “Honey, if you want to have fun, you’ve got the wrong guy!” From a distance, I could hear the laughter and the derisive shouts towards Michael. The boys in Felix Catton’s group were shouting something incomprehensible, but the tone was clearly provocative. He couldn’t let them ruin his fun.

Everyone’s eyes were on us, but she didn’t care and had only one mission: to make Michael Gavey, the math nerd, give in to her taunts and prove to Milly that she could have any boy she wanted. “So, Michael,” she said, walking closer to him, a provocative smile on my lips. “You…” he looked shocked, her hands on him were simply wonderful. “There are rumors about you,” Michael said stiffly. “Oh yeah? The ones that say I’m a whore? Maybe because the little nerd loser has voiced his thoughts” she moved closer to him, their faces face to face. "I know it was you, I know it was you who started spread around the university the rumor that I had a threesome with Catton and Quick" she grabbed Michael by the shirt. "But no, I didn't fuck them." Michael felt the heat of her body against his. "I think underneath all that composure there's someone who knows how to have fun, huh nerd?"

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “They say you’re a loser, show me you’re not.” She started dancing closer to him, their bodies in sync with the beat of the music. I turned, resting my back against his chest, my hips against his. Every move was a studied tease, every look an invitation. He could feel the tension building, but it was an electrifying tension, full of anticipation. Michael began to relax, responding to my movements. His hands settled delicately on his hips, following the beat of the music. It was clear he was giving in, giving in to the attraction between us.

“See? It’s not that hard, Mikey.” She turned, whispering the words in his ear, her breath hot against his skin. He smiled, looking down for a moment. “You nerdy little loser.” She brought her hand close to his face, tracing the outline of his jaw with her nails. “You’re horny, aren’t you?” Did you like watching me kiss my friend?"

She pulled away slightly, looking him in the eyes. "Mh?" Michael seemed ready to accept the challenge. "Tell me" she slid her hand down his chest, letting it slide down to his cargo belt. "Did you go to the bathroom to jerk off, Mikey?" She grabbed his face with one hand. "Or did you come in my boxers like a little boy?" she continued to tease, Michael felt his cock harden. No, he hadn't gone to the bathroom, but to the bar to drink a bottle of water. At one point, we heard Oliver Quick's voice, closer this time

. "Look who's finally woken up! Michael Gavey the nerd finally having fun, I wonder if he'll be able to fuck her!" Anger shot through her, but she decided to take advantage of the opportunity: she moved even closer to Michael, their lips just inches apart. "Ignore him" she said softly, coaxing him. Her breathing increased, Michael looked at her red lips. "He doesn't have this" she wrapped her arms around his neck, looking up at his face. Thanks to the high heels, the height difference had decreased considerably.

"You really are a handsome boy" she murmured persuasively. "I like nerdy boys, they turn me on." She blew on his lips and when she heard Felix and the others mocking Michael again, she kissed him with her tongue in front of them.

Michael’s mind was still reeling from the taunts and the scene he had just witnessed when she suddenly turned her attention to him. He barely had time to register what was happening before she was standing right in front of him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. The air between them crackled with tension, and Michael felt his pulse quicken, his breath catching in his throat.

Without a word, she leaned in, her lips inches from his. He could smell her perfume—intoxicating and sweet, wrapping around him like a drug. His mind screamed at him to pull away, to leave before things spiraled out of control, but his body refused to obey. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, helpless in the face of her allure.

And then, she kissed him.

It was sudden, intense, and completely unexpected. Her lips were soft against his, warm and inviting, and Michael felt a rush of heat flood through his body. His hands moved of their own accord, one tangling in her hair, the other grasping her waist as he pulled her closer. The kiss deepened, their tongues brushing together in a dance that was both electric and desperate.

Every rational thought flew out of Michael’s mind, replaced by a primal hunger that consumed him. He had never felt anything like this before—the raw, unfiltered need that surged through his veins. He could feel her pressing against him, her body fitting perfectly against his, and it drove him wild. The world around them disappeared, the pounding music and the crowd fading into nothingness as they lost themselves in each other.

She was equally caught up in the moment, her usual cool demeanor giving way to something more passionate, more real. Her hands roamed over his chest, pulling him even closer as if she couldn’t get enough. The kiss was messy, needy, and full of the kind of desire neither of them had expected to feel—at least, not for each other.

As the kiss finally broke, both of them were left breathless, their eyes locked in a moment of shared disbelief. Michael’s heart was racing, his body humming with the aftershocks of what had just happened. He saw the same confusion in her eyes, the same unexpected lust that had taken them both by surprise.

Michael was horny as hell and she was soaking wet between his thighs.

She could hear whistles from her best friend in the distance, but she ignored them. "Can I… can I kiss you again?" Michael asked, she nodded. "Michael, put your tongue down my throat, don't let me do it all by myself. Now, fuck, grab me and touch me Michael. I know you want it, everyone does."

At the contact with his lips she sighed, she felt Michael's hands go down to my hips and grab me. "You smell good" Michael whispered, his erection pressing against her hips. Aware that she was half naked, she had to admit that I had lost the bet with Milly. That situation had aroused her and now I just wanted to take him to one of the bathrooms and fuck him.

"I… I want" he whispered between kisses. "Do you want what?" she asked wickedly. "I want to touch you, I want…fuck." Michael panted, her cheeks red. "Do you want to finger me, Mikey?" she spoke, drawing the words out of him. "Yes, I want… to do things to you… what the fuck…" he looked at her as if he wanted to devour her.

"Then do it to me here and now, no one will see us," she moved closer to Michael, pulled him close to her. "Have you ever touched a woman?" she whispered trying to make him feel at ease, he shook his head. "No, he admitted with shame. "But I would like to, I would like to so much."

Michael moved his hand away. on the hem of her mesh miniskirt that showed her thong. "Put your hand under my miniskirt, move my panties to the side and put your fingers in me" she whispered kissing his neck. "Move your middle and ring fingers in and out, your thumb on my clit. I know you're a good, smart boy, I know you'll treat me like I deserve" she connected their lips in a dirty kiss, Michael followed her orders and disappeared his fingers between her thighs. Her skin was smooth, warm.

He slipped his hand between them, with one finger he moved her panties to the side and used his middle and index finger to penetrate her, her pussy was soaking wet, hot and tight. He had seen some porn, locked in his room, nothing compared to this.

"My Good boy" she whispered moaning in her ear, Michael immediately found her clit and began to circle it with his thumb. "You're a fucking whore" he whispered in her ear. "And I want you just like that for me, for your fucking math nerd" she began to move her hips against his fingers, then slipped a hand into his boxers.

"Let me return the favor, nerdy boy" he whispered, letting her finger him. "I know you took pictures" he continued, pulling out his secret weapon. "You do hand jobs on those, huh?" She kissed his neck, Michael pinching her clit. "You're smart then" he whispered. "Cum for me," Michael whispered shortly after, feeling his cheeks flush and his erection ache in her smooth hand.

"Fuck Gavey, don't come in your pants" she whispered, moving her hand, caressing the tip of it. "Come on my fingers," Michael had his forehead resting on her shoulder, and she felt her legs tremble. "Mikey, oh fuck" she whispered kissing him and shortly after came on his fingers.

"My good girl" Michael whispered excitedly. "Do you want to have sex?" she asked feeling his excitement dripping down her thighs. Michael nodded, "Fuck yes" he whispered out of himself not recognizing himself anymore.

"Let's go to the bathroom Michael, I have the condoms" she gave him one last kiss to calm him down, took his hand and they disappeared behind the doors of the women's bathroom.

No one had noticed what had happened except Milly who had been watching them the whole time, but now she too found herself busy with one of the boys, more precisely with Felix Catton. She wanted to make him pay.

She grabbed Michael's hand and pulled him toward the bathroom, her grip firm and determined. The club's lights and noise faded as they hurried down the hallway, her intentions clear as she led him to one of the stalls. Once inside, she slammed the door shut behind them, locking it with a quick twist of her wrist. The small, confined space was suddenly filled with an intense, almost palpable tension.

Without giving him a chance to think, she pushed Michael against the door and kissed him fiercely, her hands gripping his shoulders. Michael was overwhelmed, his mind spinning from the intensity of her kiss and the suddenness of it all. His back hit the cold metal of the door, and a shiver ran down his spine, but it wasn’t from the cold.

In between kisses, he managed to stammer, “I—I’m a virgin…”

She paused for a brief moment, her eyes searching his, but instead of laughing or mocking him, she nodded, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Don’t worry” she whispered, her voice low and reassuring. “I’ll take care of you.”

Then, she kissed him again, more gently this time, her hands moving to cup his face. Michael’s heart pounded in his chest, his nerves and excitement mixing in a heady rush that made his legs feel weak. He had never been in a situation like this before, had never imagined that she would be the one to lead him into it. But there was no hesitation in her, no doubt, and it gave him a strange kind of confidence.

She pressed closer to him, her body warm against his, as her hands began to explore, pulling his shirt up and over his head. Michael’s breath hitched as she continued, her touch both firm and tender, guiding him as their clothes quickly became a forgotten heap on the bathroom floor.

Her naked body was fucking divine, she was a fucking Goddess. Michael held her out. "First… I… wonder if… I can taste you" he whispered shyly, his cock was erect, long and hard. She licked her lips. "Yes" she whispered. "But you have to kneel down, pretty boy" she whispered almost with amusement.

Michael was embarrassed, but he knelt down in front of her kissing her on her cunt. "You smell good and you look so beautiful" he whispered looking up at her. She brought her hands up to his face, grabbing his glasses and taking them off. "You're so sweet" she whispered throwing them on the pile of clothes. "How… how do I do this?" he asked placing his hands on her thighs.

"Let me show you" she replied amused, lifting one leg up to Michael's shoulder. "Open me up like this first" she whispered bringing two fingers to her pussy. "With two fingers" she opened for him. "And then you lick me" she lowered her face, caressing his lips. "I know you can do it, Mikey" Michael nodded burying his head between her thighs, fuck it was wonderful. Slowly he licked her on her opening, licked her on the clit and soon after he put his tongue inside her, fucking her. "Fuck, Mikey" she panted feeling his long and thick tongue. "Fuck" she continued, Michael licked her, tasting her and it was incredibly sweet.

He grabbed her thighs with both hands, his nose pressed against her clit, "Pretty girl" he whispered between the licks and soon after, without restraint, she came on his lips, panting like a whore. Michael licked her and got up from her, holding her tightly in his arms. He looked at her.

"Do you want?" he asked, unsure if he had tired her. "Yes" she whispered, grabbing her purse, she took the condom and ripped it off with her teeth. "You're fucking hard Mikey" she murmured, putting it on him. "Now pick me up and lean me against the door" she clung to him, planting a kiss on his lips. Michael did as she ordered. "And now let me do it" she brought her legs behind his hips, pushing him against her pussy. Michael took hold of himself and entered her.

"Oh god!" he gasped, feeling his cock buried in her pussy. "Now move, my good boy" she teased, Michael began to push into her, he lowered his face to her breast and sucked on her nipple, she moaned, pulling his hair. Soon she concentrated on the thrusts, both of them lost in pleasure, Michael touched her deeply, fucking her so good. Every thrust was pure pleasure, his cock inside her filling her to perfection.

As they moved together, the initial awkwardness melted away, replaced by something raw and powerful. Michael’s nerves faded, overtaken by the growing pleasure that coursed through him, each touch and movement heightening the connection between them. For a few brief, intense moments, nothing else existed but the two of them, lost in each other and the wildness of the moment.

"Mikey, Mikey"! she gasped, squeezing herself, he felt her pussy contract around his cock. "Cum for me, fuck" he ordered. He brought his fingers to her clit and as she had taught him, the moves were fast, but gentle. She came with an orgasm that overwhelmed her, Michael filled the condom and pulled out of her, holding her in his arms.

Michael felt every sensation intensely—the warmth of her skin, the rhythm of her breath, the softness of her lips as they kissed again and again. "You are beautiful" he whispered again, squeezing her, then came the shame of what he had done and her cheeks blushed shamefully.

When it was over, they were both breathless, their bodies slick with sweat, their heartbeats racing in unison. Michael leaned back against the door, his mind still struggling to process what had just happened. She looked at him with a mix of satisfaction and something almost tender in her gaze, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

She adjusted Michael’s glasses back on his face, her fingers brushing lightly against his skin. Michael, still catching his breath, felt a rush of shame wash over him. He couldn’t quite meet her eyes, a mix of guilt and embarrassment gnawing at him, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that he had enjoyed every moment of what had just happened.

She looked at him, her expression softening. “You were… wow,” she admitted, a hint of genuine surprise in her voice. “I didn’t expect that.”

Michael looked up, trying to read her face, unsure of what she meant. But before he could ask, she continued, her tone shifting slightly. “I should probably tell you… this started as a bet” she confessed, her voice low, almost hesitant. “But honestly, even if it hadn’t been, I would have found a way to get close to you eventually. Maybe I would have asked for help with math or something.”

At her words, Michael’s stomach dropped, the humiliation cutting deeper now. His fists clenched at his sides, anger and hurt flashing through him. He had been nothing more than a game to her, a joke. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat.

Seeing the hurt in his eyes, she quickly added, “But that doesn’t change what just happened. It was real for me, Michael. I didn’t expect to feel anything, but… I did. You were incredible.”

Michael’s anger faltered at her honesty, the rawness in her voice catching him off guard. He hesitated, still processing everything, but then, in a small, uncertain voice, he asked, “Would you… would you maybe like to go out with me sometime?”

She smiled, a genuine warmth spreading across her face. “Are you asking me to out on a date, Mickey?” she replied, without hesitation. “But yes, I’d like that.”

Relief washed over Michael, and a shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips. They quickly dressed, the earlier tension replaced by a new, tentative connection. As they exited the club, the cool night air wrapped around them, a stark contrast to the heat they had just shared.

They walked hand in hand, the noise of the club fading behind them as they made their way back toward the university. The campus loomed ahead, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, the night quiet and peaceful around them. Neither of them spoke much, but the silence was comfortable, filled with the unspoken promise of something new and unexpected.

For the first time that night, Michael felt a sense of calm, a strange mix of contentment and anticipation. As they walked together, he couldn’t help but feel that, despite everything, this might just be the start of something real.

As they walked hand in hand, Michael felt a gnawing guilt bubbling up inside him. He couldn’t ignore it any longer. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. “For calling you a bitch and a whore… and for spreading those rumors about you. I didn’t know you, and I… I was wrong.”

She stopped walking and turned to face him, her expression softer than he expected. “It’s okay, Michael” she said, her voice gentle. “Honestly, I was trying to get your attention. I just… didn’t know how to go about it.”

Michael looked at her, uncertainty clouding his thoughts. “But why me? I’m just… a nerd, a loser. I never thought someone like you would even notice me.”

A smile tugged at her lips, and she squeezed his hand. “I like nerds, Michael. I’ve always found them interesting, different. You’re smart, and you’re real. That’s what caught my eye.”

As they continued walking, she winced slightly, her pace slowing. “These heels are killing me, she admitted, glancing down at her feet with a small, pained smile.

Without a second thought, Michael offered, “I could carry you if you want.”

She looked at him in surprise, then nodded, a playful grin on her face. “You’d do that?”

Michael nodded, his heart pounding a little faster. He bent down and lifted her into his arms, her weight light and warm against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and before he knew it, she leaned in and kissed him again, her lips soft and warm.

But this time, something was different. Michael didn’t feel the rush of excitement he expected. Instead, a strange sadness settled over him. He had been so wrong about her, so blinded by his own insecurities and misconceptions. The girl in his arms wasn’t the person he had thought she was—she was more, and he had misjudged her so badly.

As they continued their walk toward the university, her head resting on his shoulder, Michael couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted inside him. He wasn’t the same awkward, resentful nerd he had been just a few hours ago. He didn’t quite know who he was becoming, but he knew one thing for certain—he didn’t want to make the same mistakes again.

Michael couldn’t help but think about how wrong he’d been, but before he could dwell on it too long, she broke the silence with a teasing grin. “You know, you really are a maneater,” he said, half-jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

She smirked and leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Actually, Mikey, you ate me out in that bathroom.”

Michael blinked in surprise before a laugh bubbled up from his chest, the tension between them melting away. She was funny, confident, and completely unexpected. All he wanted now was her—just her, in all her unpredictable, fascinating glory.

She looked at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Michael, do you like that for our date see each other in your room, have sex again… and then watch a film… like, maybe one of the Star Wars movies while we eat some junk food?”

Michael’s heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. The idea of spending more time with her, doing something as simple as watching a movie, felt oddly perfect. And the fact that she wanted to watch Star Wars? That was a dream come true.

He grinned, excitement bubbling up inside him. “That sounds amazing,” he said, his voice full of eager anticipation.

She smiled back at him, and as they continued their walk, Michael couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest nerd in the world.

[fraugwinska]

FrauGwinskas Wonderful World of Works

Main Fic

on AO3 and tumblr (Alastor x Reader; #RadioGem📻💎)

Quick-Fics and One-Shots (#fraugwinskawrites)

The Nice (Fluff, Angst and everything in between - SFW)

Pour Decisions - Alastor & Reader Al and Reader have a pun-off, with Angel getting increasingly frustrated

Rainy Days - Charlie x Vaggie Just a little fluff between hells most wholesome couple on a rainy, boring day

Pandoras Box - Alastor x Reader Reader wants kisses - Reader gets kisses, whether our mighty overlord likes it or not (Spoiler: He does)

In Sickness and in Health - Alastor x Wife!Reader When his doe is sick, the buck will care for her. (TW: Mention of death by sickness)

Taking the edge off - Husk & Angel & Reader (+ Alastor fluff) A few drinks too much, and Husk finds himself being hug-attacked by Alastors girlfriend. Angel barely helps. Al to the rescue!

You put a spell on me - Alastor x Reader Reader gets caught singing and dancing by herself by Alastor, just to have him join in - both in dancing and in acting out the lyrics *wink wink*. The outcome surprises you both!

Fake it 'til you Make it - Alastor x Reader When Reader is stalked, Alastor - accidentally - has a most genius idea on how to help them. What could go wrong? (Tw: Stalking)

Mother'O Mine (Alastor x Reader) Mothers Day is hard for everyone in the hotel.... but one especially has a hard time. Maybe Reader will be able to help? (Angst/Comfort)

Worth a Shot (Alastor x Reader; Fluff) Reader has everyone in the hotel pictured, collected in a photo album, captured by her lense. All but one. But Alastor vehemently eludes her phone camera. Will a polaroid suffice?

Past and Present (Alastor x Reader) Alastor gives Reader the most perfect birthday present. Birthday One Shot for @alastor-simp

Gravitate (Alastor x Reader) - soon to come

The Naughty (NSFW - Minors DNI!)

Joke's On You - Alastor x Reader (NSFW) Alastor isn't the only prankster at the hotel. You join in on the fun,matching his energy and turning his solo act into a delightful double trouble. But the prank you want to pull on Angel might've gotten a little... out of hand.

We just have Forever (Alastor x Reader; MDNI) Waking up in the radio demons arms is nice. A little make out session before hell expects you back, is even nicer.

Shadow Games (Alastor x Reader x Alastor's Shadow; NSFW) Possessed by and therefore gifted to @hazelfoureyes What's better than getting it on with your favorite deer demon? Getting it on with him AND his ever-present shadow companion.

Pretty Desperate (Vox x Reader; NSFW) Bribe for @macabr3-barbi3 Vox hates Alastors new assistant who just drools over his friend. Too bad for her that he doesn't want her. And too bad for Vox that he doesn't want him either.

Transient Response (Human!Alastor x Reader, NSFW) When the new and only female sound engineer caught the eye of New Orleans favourite Radio host, she turned out to be quite elusive. But Alastor is always game for a little hunt, especially when he traps his prey in his broadcasting booth.

Antidote (Radioapple x Reader, NSFW) While almost everyone is away for a night out in town, back at the hotel Reader accidentally drinks a potent lovedrug. With Alastor and Lucifer beeing the only two remaining demons mannig the building, they have to somehow set aside their differences to help their darling girl.

Battle Scars (Alastor x Reader, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, NSFW) TW: Dark themes, mentions of self-harm and depression After a fight with Alastor, reader fights with herself. At the brink of relapsing into habits she tried to bury, he shows her that that's a battle sha doesn't have to fight alone.

Master of Puppets (Alastor x Witch!Reader, NSFW) Alastor and reader not only share interests in magic, but in each other. With what the little witch already knew and what Alastor taught her, she creates a gift that turns out to be a very naughty piece of witchcraft.

Heavenly (Radioapple, MDNI) - Gift for @minkdelovely Lucifer is tired. Tired of his domain, of his duties, of being a ruler... of just being itself, really. Ready to break by the circumstances and be put back together by the Radio Demon, who both infuriates and tempts him alike.

Mirror, Mirror (Alastor x Bodyconscious!Reader, NSFW) TW: Explicit depictions & mentions of ED and body dysmorphia An innocent remark from Angel confirms what Alastor long suspected. And he is determined to help reader see just how much more than beautiful she really is.

Sensory Overload (Vox x Reader, NSFW) Valentino's new hire is a genius when it comes to write about sex - but unfortunately, having it proves impossible to her because hell made her senses numb. Not even the moth pimp could get her off, much to the amusement of Vox. When they make a bet about whether or not Vox could suceed where Valentione had failed, Vox takes on that challenge as he does any other challenge. Head on and with full power.

Visions of You (Alastor x Blind!Reader, MDNI) TW: Depictions of attempted SA, Blood & Gore Managing hell without seeing, Reader made a modest living for herself selling books in her little store. A quiet, mostly uneventful life, until a certain overlord visits, interested in the various stock Reader keeps - as well as the little blind mouse herself.

No Hard Feelings (Alastor x Fox!Reader, NSFW) "Don't tell me you don't know?" he purred, a dark smirk pulling at his lips, a slight glimmer of the yellowish hue of his sharp teeth showing from behind them. "How quaint. I'm afraid I didn't take into consideration that you are not the type to make yourself acquainted with the hellish form you took on. Why, you're in heat, darling. A very... desperate and needy one, at that."

The Mini-Series (SFW & NSFW, mind the tags!)

Good Times Series - Alastor x Reader Al and Reader explore which era had better dance moves 1.Going with the times 2.Goody-Two-Shoes

Brat Series - Alastor x Bratty!Reader (NSFW) Reader tests the limit of Al's patience, it's just so fun! But what happens when his patience runs out? Uh-oh... 1. (Un)Holy Tease 2.(Un)Holy Terror

Hard Days Series - Sub!Alastor x Reader (NSFW) Alastor doesn't often feel the need to give up control, but when he does, we know - and we're ready! 1.Hard Day 2.The hardest Day

Actions and Words Series - Alastor x Reader Reader joins a lonely, tipsy Al at the bar for a night filled with much more than words. After the nightly drunken escapade, Charlie and the crew is hellbent on getting Reader and Alastor together. While Reader tries to stop the shenanigans, no one asks Alastor what HE wants. 1.More than Words 2.Louder than Words

The full Picture Series - Alastor x Reader Reader is an artist who draws everyone - just not Alastor. Which bugs him. Majorly. 1.Pictures of You 2.Ripped Canvas (WIP)

AfterLife Series (NSFW) Heavy Angst; TW: DARK themes, suicide, mental/physical torture, religious trauma Reader finds an old radio and with it, a friend. Her only friend in a word she feels shut off of. When that friends vanishes, she doesn't see another way to continue but to take a leap of faith. In the most horrible sense. You have to bargain with something much bigger than yourself, hoping to find your way to the one you jumped for in the first place. 1.Leap of Faith (Alastor x Human!Reader) 2.Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (Alastor x Reader)

Beauty is Power - A Smile is it's Sword Series (Alastor x Cheshire!Reader; NSFW) What's more dangerous than one smiling murderous deer overlord? Well, him with a similar murderous and ever-grinning cheshire wife, going out for a little game night. (Please mind the TW!) 1. Game Night 2. A Night to Remember 3. No Place like Home

Our Deer Family Series - (Angst/Fluff, NSFW) (TW: Sickness, Death) An unconventional offer from a gravely sick young woman turns Alastors whole afterlife upside down when she, now deceased, turns up at the hotel with the most unsuspected news. 1.One plus One makes Three (Alastor x Human!Reader) 2.What to expect... (Alastor x Reader, WIP)

Tempest Series - Alastor x Reader (Angst/Comfort, NSFW/MDNI) When Alastors nightmare threatens to destroy the hotel, Reader heads to his room, determined to wake him up before they are all buried in the rubble. But waking a sleeping beast is a dangerous thing. 1.The Eye of the Storm 2.Taming the Tempest

The Alchemist Series (Alastor x Reader, NSFW) The Alchemist, a powerful new sinner that quickly rises up the ranks of the pride ring's top demons and with no interest to join the elite group of overlords, is a thorn in Alastor's side from the moment she sets foot in hell. Chaos and Order just have to clash, so nature dictates The Alchemist and the Radio Demon have to do the same. Too bad that there is only a very thin line between hatred and love. 1.The Principle of Equal Exchange

#SlutSnacks (NSFW Shorts)

Early Morning Pick-Me-Up (Alastor x Reader) Incorrect Alastor x Reader Quotes: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 Lessons in Leather (Human!Alastor x Reader) Let Down your Hair (Alastor x Reader)

Collaborations

DoubleTrouble No.1: Sweet as Cherry Wine - Alastor x Reader (NSFW) Reader has her period, Alastor is a cannibal. Seems like a plan, right? (Alastor POV, companion piece to Reader POV The Blood is Rare by @macabr3-barbi3

Double Trouble No.2: Missionary Impossible - Vox x Reader (NSFW) (Reader POV, companion piece to Vox POV by @macabr3-barbi3)

One Word to lift the Pain of Life - Alastor x Reader (+RadioSilence) Regency AU piece done in the collaborative event 'PrideRing and Prejudice' by Bapples Orchard Discord Server, thanks to the one and only @bapple117

Never have I Ever - Vox x Kora (@macabr3-barbi3's OC) Fluffy One Shot of my favorite Vox/OC couple!

Asks to come (Not in chronological order; Working Titles)

For Reasons Wretched and Divine (Lucifer x Reader; NSFW) Business is Business (Alastor & Vox & Lucifer x Chuck the Tailor) Cheap Tricks and Tasty Treats (Alastor x Reader; NSFW) Midnight Snack (Alastor x Cannibal!Reader; SlutSnack WIP) Beyond the Horizon (Alastor x Reader; Part 3 of the Tempest-Series, NSFW) Stress Relief (Alastor x Reader; Slutsnack WIP) A Friend in Need (Alastor x Reader, Gift for the Coven)

[dykedvonte]

Its really interesting that Jimmy’s chair is the one tilted away from the screen in this shot:

It’s indicative of how his and Jimmy’s dynamic was. He’s not staring ahead at the screen, he’s not paying attention to what they are doing. Curly is the only one looking forward. Jimmy quite literally couldn’t see the responsibility Curly had or was doing. Jimmy likely slacked off and avoided most of his duties. I mean the one time we know he pilots the Tulpar he steers it wrong and loses the team 4000 credits. Even in the positions they held objectively, Curly was always taking responsibility for Jimmy. Not to mention the “We can fix this” and only one chair at attention. Jimmy never had intentions to fix anything, throughout the game, throughout his entire relationship with Curly. Curly always fixed it? Why would it be any different here?

If he even took the slightest bit of responsibility, he would’ve stayed in the cockpit to see his plan through. In the end Curly did what Jimmy always expected him to do for him and took responsibility. Did what he always did and took responsibility at the wrong time…

[puckinghischier]

I would absolutely love gameday!quinn headcannons like you did for Nico or alternatively postgame!quinn <33

postgame!quinn who has each of his teammates who get to leave before him hand you little love notes as they trickle out, ensuring you he’s going as fast as he can and he loves you

postgame!quinn who always wants a long hug, win or lose

postgame!quinn who walks in the door, dropping his bag in the small hallway before coming to find you and throwing his body on top of yours, shaking out his damp hair on you like a dog would, loving the giggles and scolding that always follow

postgame!quinn who sometimes just wants to drive around the city with you after a tough loss, turning on the playlist you made for him while holding your hand the entire time, basking in the comfort just your presence gives him

postgame!quinn who loves to surprise you with the gifts he gets during warm ups. “look, this little girl traded me this bracelet for a puck and i thought you’d like it,” as he slips it around your wrist

postgame!quinn who saves all of his excitement over goals and good plays for when he gets home to you, yapping your ear off about every good thing he did, even though you watched the whole thing

postgame!quinn who always has a certain word or phrase he has to work into his locker room interviews bc you told him it always made you laugh when he was on the road and you were missing him

postgame!quinn who always has your picture on display in his locker, and he makes sure it’s front and center anytime media is filming him in his cubby

postgame!quinn who never forgets to skate over to where you’re sitting before going to the locker room, always giving you a moment of his attention since he couldn’t during the game

postgame!quinn who’s so thankful he gets to come home to you every night. you’re his favorite person to celebrate with and his most needed comfort after hard losses

[larcenywrites]

how do creed/logan act if they find out their partner is expecting?

Tbh I think they would know even before their partner 😅 super senses and all, yk? So I went with that angle! It’s nothing special, but I could always do something more fleshed out for each one later on. Maybe like how I did my Tony Stark family stuff 🤔

Reactions to Pregnancy

Logan Howlett x Reader

Victor Creed x Reader

Warnings: pregnancy mentions obviously | like two sexual references but they’re more on the mild side

Logan

Terrified. He probably picks up on it before even you, or, at least, before you tell him, but tbh he might be the one to tell you 😅 that nose never lies, but pregnancy probably still doesn’t really cross his mind at first… it’s when he suddenly hears an extra heartbeat nearby, and a rapid one at that, that he actually has to connect the dots. And yet, he still won’t bring it up! He’s nervous, a little more tense than usual, but for now he’s probably choosing to, ah… not ignore it per se? Maybe he’s trying to come to terms with it himself before you find out… by ignoring it!

But he can’t ignore it anyway because now when hears you trying to sneak up on him from behind, it’s not just you anymore. It’s quite literally following him around and keeping him up at night, and maybe hearing a quick pulse naturally puts him on edge anyway. He’s probably damn near falling apart! Is he terrified? Yes. Anxious? Yes. Low key wondering how he could let this happen?? Kinda! But then again, he is the one who ditches the condom like once a month in favor of his little kink… He was already beating himself up a little about being a terrible choice for a father, but now he’s really cursing himself because he of all people should know actions have consequences!!!

Not to mention: What if he passes on his mutation?? Shit, there might be yet another genetically perfect killer on the loose soon!

With a sigh, he finds himself tapping a finger or two on your lower tummy in thought. He knows that, regardless, he’s doing everything he can to keep you- both of you- safe. And all this stress ain’t for nothing— in fact, it’s already made him a little attached to that unnamed heartbeat!

You’re probably not gonna notice too much difference in his usual behavior other than he seems more tense and unfocused lately. He always tends to be the big spoon, he usually ends a day with rubs and nuzzles, he’s always tuned in to what you’re doing— what will be different though is him being more reluctant to leave for missions (probably a little huffy about it even), and a whole lot more cuddlier than usual the night before! And in the case that you’re a fellow x-men, it’s not out of the ordinary for him to keep an eye on you, but it is definitely weird for him to challenge the set plan just to stay by your side, and the pot is finally boiling over when he starts telling you that you can’t come on missions altogether… which probably leads to everybody arguing! Hell, you may still not even know you’re pregnant at this point, but Logan has to say it because otherwise he’s really looking like the bad guy here!

Minus the fifty questions you probably have for him, he is relieved that this whole pregnancy thing isn’t just on his shoulders now. But now that you do know, he’s definitely relieved that he can be a little more affectionate without being questioned! At some point he definitely ended up nuzzling under your shirt and has decided to just lie there for probably the rest of the evening with his very tiny baby 🥰

And come on, Logan loves the students! Even if it is in his own grumpy way! He really shouldn’t be so worried about being dad material 😘

Victor

Again, he probably picks up on it before you do, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he knows what he’s sensing! But what he does know is that you smell delightful, and all he finds himself doing that night he first notices is rubbing against your shoulder and nuzzling into your neck. It’s easy to just laugh off his spontaneous cat-like affections, and even easier to succumb to the licking and nipping without much thought 😘

It’s rather late one night when he’s coming home, and while he always aware of each pulse that should normally be around, there’s definitely a new one… He probably thinks it’s a rat that got in the wall or something at first! Now on the hunt and prowling around, he’s a tad confused when he’s led to your sleeping form in the bed. Just as his nose never lies, neither does his hearing! He’s not dumb, he knew exactly what it meant as soon as he made it to the bed.

Eh, honestly he’s probably more surprised it hasn’t happened sooner 😅 He’s probably wildly inconsistent with protection, definitely has a breeding kink anyway, and has probably taken the condom off without you even noticing before… Even so, he still definitely didn’t plan it! Well- probably.

Still flopped over you with a big ol arm over your waist and nuzzling into your neck, he’s probably purring way more than you’ve ever heard him purr before. Enough to wake you up at 4 in the morning! You’ll have to lift his big ol head from your chest to get his attention, and he’ll just outright tell you! He’s one of the best trackers in the world, so there’s no reason to doubt him… that and it’s not every occasion that you’ll see him kneading happily at the blankets!

Ah- maybe he has done… questionable things, both when it comes to family and not-family… But, really, there's no need to worry! This hellcat is quite fond of kids, so while you may be a little anxious over the sudden news, Victor is unfazed enough for the both of you! Besides, he’s more than capable of keeping both you and a kid safe, and he’s had plenty of challenges in his 200+ years, surely he can handle raising a kid. Plus, he has a kid or two out there that he didn’t raise himself, so he’s probably pretty excited about this one ;3 But he does kinda hope he passes down his mutation…

The only downside as far as behavior goes is he’s now ultra protective and nosey (not that you could ever hide anything from him anyway), and now he’s dragging home tons of trinkets and jewelry and blankets and maybe even an entire turkey one time 😅

[gladiatorcunt]

I want to be non conned by Anakin ☹️

the first time i saw this ask, i was eating chicken nuggets (safe food moment) and was like "damn me too 😔." (obvious tw non con, choking, canon sw universe ani, delusional and obsessive behavior, forced pregnancy/baby trapping, reader has a pussy, use of the word “wife” in a gender roles way and “pillow princess”)

anakin can do nearly every variation and flavor of non con imo, his canon character allows for a lot of flexibility in that area. there's the soft and sweet gentle non con where he's smoothing his hands up and down your back as his thrusts bury you in the sheets. he's not crying, just a little teary because it feels so good and maybe you'll finally listen to him about how the two of you are meant to be together. that's very aotc anakin coded to me, not that rots!anakin couldn't do it like that in the right circumstances (and how you behave and react to certain situations).

for example in the beginning of aotc, and you're another padawan who's formed an unnatural bond with ani over the years. he's anxious to be knighted and you can tell that his mood is dampening more and more every day. all he says is that he has trouble sleeping, nightmares and obi-wans' karking loud snoring. you giggle and fall for the misdirection, tugging him over to the sparring mat. the next time you meet, you hear more about padmé and their history. he's being assigned to protect her so he can't be your training partner for the time being.

it's noble, of course, it's unbecoming of a jedi to be anything other than happy to see anakin follow the path you always knew he could. he has a light in his eyes you haven't seen in weeks and you attribute that to a person rather than considering the possibility that he's happy because he finally has a purpose. but you're 20 years old, being a (hopefully) future jedi master doesn't grant you any extra wisdom when it comes to love. you don't think much of pulling away, ani is going to have his hands full (of what you refuse to think further on) and you should start sorting out your priorities.

you've just made the biggest mistake of your life. outside the room where the senator is peacefully slumbering away, anakin can't stop overthinking and wondering what he did wrong. why haven't you been answering his messages, he's told you so many times that he could fix your holopad for you. he's so deep in thought that he barely makes it in time to terminate the insects deployed to poison padmé and chase after the assassin. he doesn't know that this time apart has allowed you to have an epiphany, and that you'll be gone by the time he comes back from naboo. perhaps there was more to the galaxy than being a jedi.

he tracks you down after his mother dies, feeling adrift without you and high off the adrenaline of indulging the darker parts of his soul. he wouldn't even have known you were leaving had it not been for a concerned message from obi-wan. you didn't even leave coruscant, you wandered down into the lower levels like you were waiting to die. well you don't get to do that without him, so he pins you down on the sorry excuse for a bed you've bought yourself and tells you that this must be what it feels like to make love. your tears mingle as you kiss slowly and flames lick at his back as you drag your hands down his flesh. he murmurs that it's okay, he can't lose you too and he knows just what to do, plenty of couples in the galaxy settle down young. he'd never abandon you, to leave behind what he has allowed to grow into his skin like an abscess is aberrant to the core of anakin's very being.

your pussy parts like the petals of a flower as he pushes his leaky cock into you, and it's so beautiful with his cum seeping out that he knows the force incarnate is between your thighs. you're still sniffling, and your nipples feel bitten to shreds, and that's alright. marriage day jitters are normal, he can only imagine how much more you'll glow when you have a piece or two of the force's son growing in your womb. he blushes and stammers when he asks you to keep his cum in and not touch yourself while he's gone, excited at the prospect of playing husband and wife until the mission is over and you can have a real wedding.

you tell yourself that you hated what your best friend did to you, but you keep your hand away from your begging cunt and smother yourself with the spare cloak he left behind. in a way, desire pools in your gut at the thought that you have to be forced to come out of your shell. you know anakin has grown up too hungry to hate fighting for his meal, and he has done enough proving himself. the flecks of blood matting the hair at the nape of his neck flashes through your mind as you grind your hips up against nothing. his movements were awkward at the first, but his sheer determination and passion had your brain leaking out of your ears by the end.

you remember feeling his dick twitch when you tensed, and he thought that you would attempt to fight but you only moaned and kept his head tucked away in the crook of your shoulder. the force radiated of embarrassed satisfaction that grew more confident with every squeak and groan. he liked seeing the fight drain out of your eyes more than the idea of you actually following through on it. your soresu never quite matched up to his anyway.

then there's the harder version. you resist more in whatever scenario and you delude yourself into thinking that anakin is the kind of dog that would throw away the bone he's chomping down on when he's bored of it. he manhandles you and tosses you around the room, shoving his cock up to the hilt and snarling at you to know who is doing this to you and love him anyway. your snot slides down the wall and your face is smushed against the peeling paint, blood drips down his length when he pulls out and he actually pouts in disappointment when he misses a few drops as he scoops it up with his fingers and takes them into his mouth. you're dizzy as he chokes you, your head spins when he spanks you while forcing you to ride his face. you will stare down the lightsaber handle of his devotion and push the button without hesitation.

you'd likely end up pregnant and waiting on your jedi husband to fall from one pedestal after the other. but the one reserved for the man of the house is guarded by you and your children, he bends over the gilded railing and kisses the breath out of your lungs. even when that pedestal drips with tar and becomes an ominous throne. this is a story that happened so long ago after all, nothing can be done to alter events that have already come to pass.

BUT ANYWAY, his prosthetic arm would also be a big focus in non con. no matter how hard he's ruining you or beating your body up, there will always be undeniable and inevitable love in it for anakin. punishments involving impact are dulled down and reduced to only his flesh hand. even in the gentler non con situations, he's so careful and aware of where his mechanical arm is at all times and what it's doing. there is no bruise he wants to give you when you did not deserve them, he offers it as a cooling balm of sorts to your heated skin in the aftermath. he likes to watch you lather the metal digits in spit as you suckle while you come down from your forced high, sometimes he swears he can feel the ridges of your tongue slide along the smooth surface.

he's so in love.

even with non con, i actually don't see anakin being all that verbal right after he cums. he'll have to calm down a bit before he can start speaking. but he'll silently nuzzle you and caress the spots on your body you wouldn't really think about, like the side of your sore tit and right on the plush flesh above your left hip bone. very touch you know and if you're able to pick up on it i imagine he would send out calming energy and just pure love into the force. but it's so intense you think you can see the smoke vapors rising up from your skin. visions of the future are shared between you, as well as eventual whispered promises of you being the crown jewel of his new empire. imagine the elaborate nurseries, putting the children to bed and then getting countless orgasms as thanks for being the best wife and parent in the galaxy. but he's sure to remind you that no one would ever love you more than anakin, even your children.

and i don't see him dipping into non con somno much other than the initial tease to your wet cunt and inserting his hard cock into your hole. the slow creep into your room, the creak of your bed as he settles his weight down, the soft woosh of the blanket being pulled off your gorgeous body. he'd want you to wake up and thrash around for a few seconds before giving in to how good he knows he's making you feel. because he knows perfectly well he could send out suggestions into the force that you put you deeply asleep and without chance of ever waking up until he wants you to. but your genuine reactions are so cute, playing with his soulmate is only fun if you can actively participate.

whether that be by crying or humping him desperately or clawing trenches down his back or riding him on the rare occasion your hormones have overpowered your pillow princess tendencies.

also this isn't non con related but in terms of love languages: other than physical touch, i think words of affirmation is a big one for him. actually being verbally reassured and given sweet nothings of his own to tuck away between his robes for him to focus on as he cuts down any threat to your eternal happiness. being told that he is worthy of love and that he's an incredible jedi, i think just being told that you're proud of him and that he hasn't spent years trying to be somebody to someone for nothing. blah blah he internalizes so much that it would help him to be given an opportunity to express those feelings blah etc etc and having you validate him would render his need to be on the council largely useless etc.

(he would unironically kill to be your alpha in an a/b/o setting i fear)

[painonthebrain]

JuneofDoom Day 15 - Rescue

Content: Manhandling, restraints, gags, sedation, female whumpee, pet whump, conditioned whumpee

When she was taken, she resisted as hard as she could. She thrashed, she bit, she kicked, she screamed. Even when they tied her down, she reared her head back, slamming it into her kidnappers’ chins. She would not be taken that easily.

“Let me go!” Her voice was shrill and piercing, a combination between a yell, a shriek, and a cry. They gagged her, and still she screamed, muffled shouts and guttural cries, calling out for help.

“Mngh! Mghng!!”

She kicked the ground, kicked the ones who were taking her away, she thrashed and moved wildly.

They pinned her to the ground. Still, she bucked and squirmed, even as she was held down by the weight of their bodies.

“We have her.” One said into a walkie-talkie. “Over.”

Something pricked her shoulder, and she jerked, but it was too late, whatever they had injected into her was already in her veins now.

Still muffled, she screamed bloody murder, cursing and wailing, getting slower and slower until she could no longer move or scream. She was dizzy and weak now.

She moaned, sniffling when they hoisted her up by her armpits, marching her to their vehicle.

They laid her in the backseat, buckling her in. “Shh, shh, it’s okay. We’re here to help you. You’re safe now.”

As they drove away, all she could do was feel pitiful for failing her master.

[doodle-list]

The shrub angst is real 😔

[whorediaries-09]

afterglow;

pairing- felix catton x reader warning(s) - hurt/comfort. (let me know if i should add more.) a/n- accepting requests for characters from saltburn!

the slut club

'why'd I have to break what I love so much? it's on your face, don't walk away, I need to say

he wasn't stupid. he was rather someone who preferred not to study. he was smart, and caught on to what you were trying to teach pretty fast. you wondered why you'd been chosen to tutor him while he pretty much could've learnt all the things were explaining by himself. you felt inferior to him, to his large circle of friends and his charm. you didn't feel 'cool' enough to be his friend, and somewhere along your thoughts, you may have been intimidated solely by his presence.

'so, tomorrow at 6 pm, library, sound good?' he asked, walking backwards. you clutched your books closer to your chest, as you walked forward.

'yeah, but you'll topple and fall if you walk like that, careful felix,' you warned. he winked, joining you as he walked side by side. he put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his body. the deep rich scent of mahogany and cigarettes ghosted you.

you moved away from his touch. your clothes felt too sticky, books too heavy. the sun was scorching down upon you. your stomach felt too bulged. you were tired, horrendously so. it wasn't your day, it made you want to tear off your hair, rip off your skin.

'i was wondering if you'd want to go out sometime? me and you?' he asks, stopping you at your tracks. you take in a deep breath, your mind flashing different ways to dodge the situation. it's not that hard you think. slowly you gulp,

'felix, are you out of your mind? who gave you this stupid dare?'

he stares at you with an intense look in his eyes. and maybe you want to believe him, even if you rationally know he's pulling your leg. because everyone loved him. it was impossible not to love him. he was a perfect fantasy, someone who didn't seem to be real. he was a gateway to an escape from reality.

'i- i'm- i should go,' he says, turning on his heels. you watch him go, as the sunset paints it's hues on the sky. the dull hotness creeps into your heart, burning with an insatiable intensity that leaves you heaving. you feel terrible, as if you'd attacked him without reason, but you knew, you weren't wrong. it must have been a dare that farleigh had given him to complete.

*****

the knocks on your door grew aggressively louder. it wasn't a fragment of your dreams you realized, as you opened your eyes. the moonlight peeked through your curtains. you slipped you feet into your slippers, rubbing your eyes.

the college party invite hadn't reached you. it was too late to deal with drunk people shenanigans, but with the progressively loud knocks on the door, you doubted you'd be able to sleep. maybe it was the best option to chase the one who was causing the ruckus outside your door.

when you unlocked the door, a breathless felix towered over your body. he stared at you red, hollow eyed. he reeked of beer and cigarettes. he stumbled, closing the gap between you. pushing the door close with his feet, he breathed in your scent. he sighed, pulling you closer.

'j-just let me embrace you. you're so warm,' you wrapped your arms around his body, pulling yourself apart from his hold. you stared into his hazel like eyes, which were like sunlit branches or the moss covered oak. you tried to decipher his feelings, his true intentions.

'felix, can you please sit down for a moment?' you whispered. he nodded, sitting on your bedding. you sat down on your knees beside him. his palm travelled up to your cheek, stroking the skin. you smiled at him, holding his hand. you felt broken and hurt.

'do you really hate me that much?' he asked, tilting his head at an angle. he smiled, despite the tears that pooled on his waterline, waiting for you to answer.

'i-i don't hate you,'

'then why won't you go out with me?'

'because- well because you- you're you! and i- i'm me.'

'if it it's some sort of metaphorical bullshit then i don't get it. but what i do get it is that i really fucking like you. something about you feels so legit, so fucking real. like i want to know you, but you keep hiding from me, keep escaping me. you don't even talk to me except when you're scolding me...' you breathed heavy. he was legitimate with what he had meant. and he was hurt because of you. while you stood on the middle of the line of a desire to be solely his or a desire to be his companion, you were silent. you were living like an island, punishing him in silence.

'felix, we're different. don't you see? everyone around you loves you so much. you're so perfect. you're like a fantasy come into life. everyone puts on a show for you. just so you love them back. but i don't-i can't do that.'

'well that's why i like you so much! you don't put up a pretentious barrier like everyone else!' it was excruciating to see him so low. your heart throbbed against your ribcage as he grazed his temple against yours. he cradled your face in his palm. his breathing was tampered and irregular. but it felt like he was breathing just for you, just to you. when he whispered, it was like a secret. a secret just for you and him. a secret meant just to be kept, a secret to be held just between the two of you, a secret to be cherished between the two of you,

'i don't even think i like you. i think i might be in love with you,'

so maybe, he wasn't perfect. he had his insecurities, some things to hide. but he was ready, to be explored, to show his flaws. he wanted you, he wanted you with your flaws. he wanted you to be his reality, to escape the perfect prison he was in. he wanted you, to hold on to you, and not let you go.

so maybe it was all in your head. you were scared. but you didn't want to burn it down. you didn't mean to hurt him. you didn't want him to go, you didn't want to lose him. you wanted him, to escape reality of the imperfect prison you were in. you didn't want him to go. you wanted him, to hold on to him and not let him go. you didn't want to punish him in silence.

'only if the love is worth the fight,' you whispered back.

so when your lips found their path to his, you knew he'd meet you. even in the afterglow.

[chaostheoryy]

Touch Me [Walter X GN!Reader]

Summary: You and Walter are currently the only two people awake on the colony ship headed for the outskirts of the galaxy. And while most people would find the company of a synthetic to be unsettling, you have come to realize you much prefer his presence over that of other humans. And perhaps you enjoy his company even more than you originally thought.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Making out, implied sexual thoughts

Reader: Gender Neutral

Word Count: 3.1K

Notes: I recently rewatched the entire Alien franchise and rediscovered my love for Walter. Because of course my dumbass feels connected to an autistic-coded character...There really isn't much plot here, just self-indulgence via smooching a big, wholesome android. And, as always, no beta. I die a warrior's death.

Living with a synthetic is easy. Like a faithful company android should, Walter has always done exactly what he’s supposed to when he’s supposed to. He never interrupts your work unless absolutely necessary and he doesn’t dare disturb your sleep unless following explicit instructions from you or MUTHUR to wake you in time to complete your tasks.

In addition to being an efficient and reliable worker, Walter has also proven himself to be a surprisingly pleasant companion. Conversation, it seems, comes naturally for him and his seemingly endless internal database of poetry and literature means he can recite any one of your favorite stories upon request. Though it’s strange to admit, there’s a pleasantness to his voice that makes every encounter with him comforting.

In fact, the more time you’ve spent together, the more you’ve come to realize just how much you truly find pleasant about him. The mesmerizing tint of his electric blue eyes. The imperfection of his crooked smile when you tell him your worst jokes. The gentleness of his touch despite the inhuman strength of his body. You know these are all things that were programmed into him by some random company engineer years ago, but you can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to him than a bunch of 0’s and 1’s. He’s not just a robot designed to serve man, he’s…Walter.

The stronger your connection feels over these first few weeks of travel, the bolder you get when it comes to exploring your affection for him. It starts with accidental brushes of the hand against his arm or a gentle press of your palm between his shoulder blades when you squeeze behind him in a tight corridor. Fleeting touches that can easily be written off as necessary interactions given the nature of your environment. He, of course, doesn’t seem to mind at all. Every time it happens, he responds to your apology or “excuse me” with a courteous little grin and a brief utterance of reassurance.

On a particularly bad day, when nothing seems to go right and the loneliness of space grips at your heart, you ask for his comfort and he obliges. His hand rests on your shoulder until it simply isn’t enough and you ask him to hold you. No request is too much for Walter, so sure enough you find yourself wrapped in his arms with your head resting on his chest. Even despite his lack of fleshy internal organs, you find he’s just as warm as any human would be. And when he murmurs soothing words in your ear, you realize that no human could possibly comfort you the way he can.

“Walter?”

“Yes?"

“Hugging you like this,” you murmur quietly into his charcoal sweatshirt, “Does it feel good for you?”

“If you’re inquiring as to whether or not I enjoy embracing you, yes. I find it quite satisfactory.”

“Good.”

“Is this embrace satisfying for you?”

“Very."

“I’m glad.”

To your surprise, the hand that had come to rest in the center of your back begins to move in slow circles. When you shift beneath his touch, the movement ceases.

“Apologies,” he says as he abruptly steps away. The loss of contact leaves your body yearning for the comfort.

“No need to apologize, Walter. It’s fine, really. I…” You hesitate for a moment. “It felt nice.”

You stare each other down, both of you searching for answers to questions neither of you have asked. You know it’s probably just your mind playing tricks on you, but it seems as though he looks nervous. Then again, hard not to notice an aura of uncertainty coming from a presence that is usually nothing but certain.

“Have you ever touched someone like that before now?” You ask.

“No. I’m afraid it was never the company’s intention for synthetics such as myself to engage in intimate contact.”

You try to stow away some of the sheer sadness you feel knowing what he’s said is undoubtedly true. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because that doesn’t seem fair. Being surrounded by people your whole life and knowing that none of them will ever hold you. Knowing that the people who created you never even wanted you to be held.”

“Fair or not, it is simply a part of my programming.”

You frown. It frustrates you to no end. No matter how many times he or the little voice in the back of your head tells you that he is simply an android following his programming, you want to argue that there’s more to it than that. That he genuinely exists and deserves to live.

“Aren’t you curious?”

“In regard to what exactly?”

“Touch. Don’t you ever wonder what it’d be like to truly be touched? To be held and caressed and cared for by someone else?”

“It is something I have pondered over from time to time, sure.”

Your heart is racing in your chest as you consider your words. It’s crazy, you know it is, but you can’t help yourself. “Would you like me to touch you?”

Walter’s head tilts to the left ever so slightly, much like a dog who’s heard his owner utter the name of his favorite toy in casual conversation. Those dazzling blue eyes blink a couple of times as he considers your question.

“Yes, I believe I would.”

An inaudible sigh of relief slips from your throat. You nod, more to yourself than to Walter, and step forward to close the distance between you. He doesn’t move in the slightest, just stands there and watches your every move with the scrutiny of a scientist at work.

You start by taking his right hand. Pulling it from his side, you raise it up into the space between your bodies. Your right thumb traces over his knuckles while your left hand gently pushes the sleeve of his sweatshirt up toward his elbow. Just like any human you’ve ever met, there are delicate hairs all along his forearm that jump back into place as the fabric of his sleeve slides past.

After watching those little hairs shift around exploratory strokes of your hand along the backside of his arm, you turn it over and trace the now exposed lines of his palm. You feel like those storied fortune tellers of old Earth who search for hidden meanings in the imperfections of a person’s skin. But instead of seeking out some clue to the distant future, it’s as if you’re seeking the very essence of humanity in Walter’s palm.

“You have a soft touch,” he notes as you ghost your fingertips over the almost velvety surface of his inner wrist.

Your eyes flick up to his face to find him still watching you with a nearly unreadable expression. “Does that bother you?”

“Not at all.”

Reassured by his response, you can’t help the tiny grin that pulls at the corner of your mouth. And as unbelievable as it sounds, Walter’s gaze seems soften at the sight of your smile.

Suddenly feeling as if you’ve been caught witnessing something you were never supposed to see, you hastily draw your focus away from his face and back down to the hand in your grasp. Your fingers trace the lines on his palm a few more times before you curl his fingers inward one by one. When every single digit has been bent into the familiar shape of a fist, you rotate his arm once again and bend his wrist back. Then, with painstaking patience that could drive a man insane, you slowly unravel his fingers with your own until your palms are flush against one another.

“Like Dürer’s Praying Hands.”

Sparing a glance upward once again, you see him gazing at your pressed hands with a nearly awestruck look in his eyes. The way he appears mesmerized by the very sight of this contact, you’d think he’s staring at the aforementioned German artwork itself.

You elect not to say anything, choosing instead to spread his fingers apart with your own. Once they’re fully splayed out, you slip your fingers in between those outstretched digits and tenderly grasp his hand. For the briefest moment, his fingers remain fully erect as if every joint in his hand is locked in place. But, like the sun setting upon its earthly horizon, they soon slowly fold downward until your hands are delicately intertwined.

There’s a tangible silence in the room as you both gaze upon your interlocked hands. The only sounds you can make out around you are the distant beeps of some far off console and the soft exhale of your own breath. And when Walter’s eyes shift from your hands to your face, that breath only grows heavier. He looks curious, anticipatory.

“I think I’m beginning to understand why humans hold hands as a gesture of affection.”

Your brow raises instinctively. “You like it?”

“It’s pleasant.”

“Would you be willing to let me touch your face?”

He blinks, seemingly processing the inquiry. Then he replies, “Of course.”

Using your free hand, you reach up and gently cup your palm along his jaw. As usual, he doesn’t even flinch at the new touch. He just keeps his eyes locked on you while you explore the new frontier that is his visage.

At first, you examine his face like a parent searching their child for minor cuts and bruises after an afternoon of rough housing in the backyard. It’s gentle, yet full of meticulous observation. Intimate in a way only familial touch can be.

But after a while, you become familiar with the feeling of his skin and allow yourself to truly caress the face before you. Fingertips press into the most delicate patches of skin at the back of the jaw. Your thumb tenderly rubs his cheekbone as the butt of your palm teeters at the edge of his mouth. It’s not your intention to feel his lips just yet but it can’t be helped when your skin brushes past them. And just like a human’s lips would be, they are tantalizingly supple against your skin.

Goosebumps crawl up your forearm when you feel his breath tickle the inside of your wrist. Witnessing him breathe is one of those things that never ceases to fascinate you or quell your incessant desire to prove Walter is more than just some carbon copy synthetic. What need would an artificial person have to breathe if they were simply meant to be servants for mankind? Why make them so incredibly real if they aren’t supposed to live a real life? Why strive to recreate the inherently flawed design of the human body if they aren’t meant to be human?

“Is everything alright?”

Walter’s voice draws you out of your thoughts so violently that he may as well have shoved you out of the airlock. You blink yourself back to consciousness and are startled to find your thumb resting at the edge of his top lip, your hand still cupped along the sharp line of his jaw. His breath continues to tickle your wrist with every exhale.

“Y-yeah,” you stammer as you reposition your hand away from his mouth, “Everything’s fine.”

“You’re displaying early symptoms of common influenza,” he counters matter-of-factly, eyes piercing right through the shield of your lie. “Your heart rate is elevated and your body temperature has increased by half a degree.”

Your body temperature may have only risen by a fraction of a degree but it may as well be several dozen considering the sheer heat scalding your cheeks. The thudding of your heartbeat has become incessantly loud and your breath nearly gets trapped in your throat.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt as you pull yourself alway from him.

His brow immediately furrows with confusion. And if you dared to study his expression any longer, you may find the look on his face hints at disappointment.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand why you’re apologizing. You’ve done nothing wrong. If you are unwell, I would be happy to tend to you in the medical bay.”

“No!” The urgency in your voice catches you off guard. You swallow the lump in your throat, hoping it will take some of the embarrassment down with it. “Thank you. But, I’m not sick, Walter, I promise. I’m just…Nervous.”

His head tilts again. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re actively staving off immense shame for your handling of the whole situation, you might actually be able to acknowledge just how endearing you find that little tick of his.

“May I ask why you are nervous?”

A breathy chuckle escapes the confines of your throat. A nervous laugh that you had no intention of letting out. Walter appears even more puzzled by the reaction.

“I’m nervous because I’m touching you,” you admit, “Because touching you is something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time now. And because now that I’ve done so, I want to keep doing it.”

“Then why did you stop?"

It’s a question you weren’t expecting. But, of course Walter would be the one to bypass formalities and outright ask the hard questions.

“Because I feel guilty.”

“Guilt would imply that you’ve committed an offense or violation.”

“Running my hands over your body and caressing your face like you’re my lover sure as hell feels like a violation,” you argue.

Despite your tone growing erratic, he remains as stoic as ever. “I guarantee you, it isn’t. You asked for permission and I granted it.”

To your utter surprise, he reaches out and gently grabs you by the wrist. Despite your astonishment at his decision to reinitiate the contact, you don’t argue or pull away when he guides your hand back up to his face. Deep down you know this is the outcome you truly want, even if it’s one you never imagined you could have.

“Feel no guilt,” he says as your hand comes to its resting place along his jaw, “I want you to touch me.”

Your heart skips a beat at those words. It’s a statement that makes your mind race faster than any engine in the universe. Sexual innuendos and Freudian subconscious aside, the significance of his declaration isn’t lost on you. He isn’t just standing there, letting you explore his visage like some statue being admired by museum patrons. He’s now an active participant driven by his own desire to be caressed. To be caressed by you.

The mere notion of him wanting this is enough to conquer most of your hesitancy. Swallowing whatever fear remains, you bring your other hand up so that you’re cupping his face between them both. Your thumbs stroke at his cheekbones.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” His voice is soft, restrained. He knows it’s dangerous to spook an already anxious animal.

You dwell on his words for a moment. His eyes, sharp and disarming as always, seem to peer right through your orbital cavity and into your brain itself. If he looks hard enough, he may very well discover the thoughts that are tucked away inside your mind without you even needing to put them into words.

Before you can convince yourself not to, you say, “You’re beautiful.”

He blinks. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting that.

“The color of your eyes. The shape of your lips. The strength of your jaw.” You all but sigh as you trace the line of his jawbone with your middle finger. “I admire everything about you.”

“And what about the fact that I’m not actually human? Do you find that unsettling?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Why is that?”

You nearly scoff at the question. “Because you could introduce me to a hundred strangers on Earth and I can almost guarantee you that you’re more human than most of them. You have shown me more kindness and empathy than half the people I’ve met in my lifetime.” You slide one hand down to his chest, splaying your fingers out over the spot where his heart should sit. “It doesn’t matter what parts you have or what fluid flows through your veins. I still care for you, Walter.”

In a way, you feel exposed. You never fully considered just how deeply you feel for him. Though, the more you think about it, the more you realize that it shouldn’t be much of a shock at all.

“I would like to kiss you.”

Now there’s a shocking statement.

“What?” You stare at him in awe, unsure that you heard him correctly.

“I said that I would like to kiss you,” he states, “If you find such contact to be agreeable, of course.”

Words are unattainable for you in that moment so you settle for a nod.

He leans in and kisses you softly. He’s so careful, so unbearably gentle that it feels like his lips simply ghost over yours. It isn’t unpleasant, of course. It’s simply too delicate. The whole thing is over before your brain can even process what’s happening. It leaves you yearning for more.

When he pulls back to look at you, he can see the dissatisfaction painted on your face. “Did I do it incorrectly?”

“It wasn’t…wrong. It was just very quick. And much softer than I was expecting.”

“I see.” He thinks for a moment before adding, “Would you like to do it again your way?”

“You want me to kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His eyes instinctively lock on your mouth to watch as your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip. “Okay.”

You reposition your right hand from his chest to the side of his neck and pull him back toward you. When you kiss him, you do so with passion. Your lips find his like a drowning man resurfacing for air after being jostled by the sea. Not violent, but desperate, as if Walter’s kiss could save your life in the cold vacuum of space.

He may not know what he’s doing, but what he’s doing is right. When your tongue presses against his lip, he opens his mouth to welcome it. When you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, he shifts just enough to make it deeper. When your nails dig into his skin to drag him closer, his hands find shelter upon your waist to steady himself. He may be a synthetic by design, but it’s clear from the way he kisses that he is human by nature.

You’re nearly gasping by the time you break the kiss. The breathless wonder of a good kiss is a feeling you have sorely missed and, judging by the blissful look in Walter’s eyes, it seems he’s just experienced something similar for the very first time.

“I have to admit, I prefer your method,” he muses as a tiny grin pricks at the corner of his mouth.

You can’t help but return that grin with a big smile of your own. Your thumb grazes across his bottom lip. “Well, good news: you and I have a lot of time to explore more methods, if you want.”

“I fear there isn’t anything you could offer that I wouldn’t want now.”

[kaleldobrev]

Obsessed

Pairing: Felix Catton x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Felix Catton & Oliver Quick

Summary: Despite hating you, Oliver can't seem to get enough watching you and Felix being intimate

Word Count: 592

Warnings: Non-Consensual Voyeurism (Oliver being a creep essentially), Smut (P in V — Brief/Minor Descriptions), Cursing (4x), Praise Kink (hinted) & Fluff Elements

Authors Note: If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

The whole scene in front of Oliver was that of one he knew he shouldn’t be watching; but it was a scene that was too intoxicating for him to not look away. Even before coming to Saltburn, he had found himself every so often peeking in on you and Felix as an unwelcome voyeur in your activities.

Without having sex with either of you, he knew the exact movements and phrases that could get the both of you off; knew how long it took either of you to come; and knew every curvature of your bodies. You could say, he was obsessed.

Today was no different, as he was currently crouched down in the dark bathroom that you, him, and Felix shared; making sure he was completely unseen by either of you as he watched your usual routine.

The two of you always did such an awful job of being quiet that Oliver was surprised that no one else could hear the two of you in your blissful state — or maybe they just ignored the two of you as they were used to it by now, which made him wonder the kinds of things Eddie had heard the Summer prior.

Oliver didn’t like you in the slightest — he despised you — but he couldn’t deny how beautiful you did look in this current moment. Your hands flat on Felix’s chest, his hands with a firm grip on your waist, both of your eyes shut, and your head was slightly tilted up looking up at the ceiling as you rocked your hips as he bucked up into you.

The sheets were doing an awful job at covering either of you; the only thing that was somewhat covered were his thighs, but even then, the sheets were slowly making its way onto the floor as the two of you moved.

“You’re so fucking beautiful…” Felix whispered, his words matching each thrust. Each time he thrusted into you, you let out such a pornographic moan that could make a pornstar jealous, but it was also one of the most elegant moans he had ever heard in his life — something he never knew was possible until he had met you. “Fucking made for me,” Felix continued, praising you — he always praised you.

“All yours…” you finally managed to say; two words that made him flinch with absolute jealousy.

"So fucking close," you mumbled, as you started to clench around him; his grip around your waist getting slightly tighter.

Felix sat up just enough so he could start peppering kisses along your abdomen and chest, before licking a long strip from your belly button to just below your breasts, where he stopped. One of your hands went to his hair, gripping it gently, as his nose started to nuzzle against your skin. "Fuck I love you..." you heard him mumble against your skin. With that admission, you felt yourself start to come around his cock, and his hips curved into a smile against you, before going back to leaving more kisses.

Once the scene before him was done and over with, Oliver quickly and quietly left the bathroom before the two of you suspected a thing; as the last thing he needed was one or both of you to see him lurking at the two of you. He was already slightly on thin ice when it came to kissing Venetia (something he was able to fix into his favor); but he knew one more thing would send him packing — and leaving Saltburn was something he couldn't let happen.

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[salllltie]

Day 23: Monster

if you ask the turtles who they consider a monster you would get identical answers