#cursed deer facts

[nunalastor]

Deer being excellent swimmers and often doing so to escape danger means Alastor could jump into the water to avoid Vox.

If he's trying to avoid Vox's attacks, this works great. Vox being part machine means he can't safely reach him. If he's trying to avoid Vox's flirting, this fails horribly. Despite the danger to his health, Vox keeps a giant aquarium because he likes sharks. A murderous creature chilling in the water tickles his fancy in every way.

👀

[tubbytarchia]

Oh no people are suddenly seeing the Joel proof of concept animation. I forgot to note that I wanted a creature-esque representation of him to appear throughout as initially like a predator hunting down its prey (or at least putting on a scary face like it's going to), and then mercilessly being hunted down itself. Imagery like that really fucks with me and I wanna subject everyone else to it too 👍 it'll be more apparent when I finish the storyboards for the whole thing but that will take a hot second, I've been busy moving rooms so no time to draw :(

[cobra-creampuff]

on the general topic of last rb. people will film homeless people who are "acting weird" and be like omg?? proof of possession/evil witches/demons/aliens??! and it's literally just an entirely normal human person who has an injury or deformity or is having a seizure or is literally just dirty and malnourished. some of them are straight up like they're walking unevenly and they're hunched over and their breathing is raspy!! in an ABANDONED BUILDING!!!! have you ever left your house once in your entire life. have you ever had an experience that wasn't scripted and set to a score. or do you know perfectly well that person is having a non-magical crisis and you are just so unspeakably fucking cruel down to the depths of your wretched being that you'd rather make a spectacle of dehumanizing them even further than idk ask them if they need some help.

[maybankswhore]

WANNA BE YOURS ’ JJ MAYBANK.

summary: jj’s been avoiding you after your break up with john b , but not for the reason you think.

request from prompt list: “i can’t stay away from you.”

When you think back to your relationship with John B , you aren’t sure when it stopped being meaningful.

Of course the relationship had its moments. The ones that you could look back on and smile , cherish the memory. But it was different. Because you didn’t look back on those memories and feel sad. You didn’t cry that they were fleeting. You didn’t miss it.

It was more of a grateful feeling. A feeling of fulfillment and enjoyment. But not sad.

In the end , the both of you felt it. That connection wasn’t there. The relationship wasn’t growing. You weren’t falling in love with eachother , more so , falling into a friendship that the both of you were scared to let go.

He had become your person and vice versa. The comfort the both of you had gotten from eachother , how honest and vunerable the two of you were able to be was something special.

But the relationship ran its course and John B admitted that he had started developing feelings for Sarah Cameron.

You weren’t mad at him or upset. He cried , feeling ashamed and scared of what it meant: you held his hand , brushed his face and encouraged him to explore it.

Breaking the news to your friends were the hardest part. Pope and Kiara were all knowing , especially Pope who you had confided in once before. They were supportive , and promised that nothing would change in the Pogue’s dynamic.

JJ on the other hand , he looked like a deer in headlights. He fidgeted alot , kept glancing up at you to study your face. JJ could tell that you didn’t look upset and he wasn’t sure what that meant. He wanted to yell at John B , push him and curse him for taking something as beautiful as you for granted.

But he couldn’t.

In fact , he couldn’t even face you.

JJ had always been taken with you. Since the moment he met you on the beach , everything about you just left him speechless. He though you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and he remembered how he gushed to Pope about you , ranting and raving about the girl he met.

Imagine his surprise when you showed up at the Chateau two days later next to John B— grinning up at him with stars in your eyes. He was deflated. Hurt. But he couldn’t blame anyone but himself for not making a move that night.

For two years he watched you and John B be together. And in those two years he had gotten to know you. All of you. That didn’t help. He thought the feelings he had for you would disappear. Girl after girl came into his life until he realized , he looked for you in every girl he met.

Although it was hard for him and it hurt him to slowly fall in love with you while you were seemingly falling in love for his bestfriend , it was easier for him to accept the fact you were off limits because you were taken by said bestfriend. Now that you were single , free and John B was running off with the Kook Princess , JJ wasn’t confident that he could just. . . not make a move , not confess everything he had pent up all these years.

But God , did he love you.

JJ had made it a point to avoid you. Any time he saw you at the Wreck , he ducked and hoped you hadn’t seen him. When you were invited to the Chateau or to the marsh , JJ always found some excuse to give so he wouldn’t be there. So he wouldn’t have to see you.

It was killing him on the inside. He was itching to see you again. To finally touch you , feel you , be yours. But he was afraid. Afraid of rejection , how it would to his friends , how John B would feel especially.

It was too messy and he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t.

Eventually you had noticed JJ’s sudden change in behavior.

“Is it just me or does he like , suddenly hate me?” You mentioned to Kiara while the two of you sunbathed , JJ affectively avoiding you by staying in the water.

Kiara scoffed. “I wouldn’t say hate.”

You were confused by what she meant.

But days turned into weeks , and you couldn’t take it anymore. You missed him. It made you feel like he blamed you for the break up with John B or he resented you for whatever reason.

Your knuckles rapped on the door to his room where you knew he was staying in John B’s hallway. The other Pogue’s went surfing and told you JJ wasn’t coming because he was sick.

You finally had enough.

“JJ freaking Maybank! I know you’re in there so open up the damn door.” You yelled through the wood loudly , a fixated look on your face.

Nobody answered and you continued knocking on the door. “JJ! What the hell is your problem with me?” Your voice was just as loud. But after minutes of silence , you stopped knocking. Suddenly you felt all of your anger disappear. You felt small , and for some reason your chest began to hurt.

“JJ. . .” the anger was all gone , now your voice was soft and sad. Cracking at the end of his name. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

As if JJ’s own heart broke at the sound of your voice , he sighed heavily and got up from his place on the bed. The door flung open and in front of you stood a disheveled JJ. His hair was a mess , there were bags under his eyes and you could tell he had been crying. “I can’t stay away from you—”

“Really? Because it seems like that’s all you’ve been doing these past couple weeks is staying away from me.”

“I can’t stay away from you but I have to.” JJ finished his sentence. Scratching the back of his neck , he refused to meet your eyes. “I just need some time.”

You blinked confused. Your heart squeezing. “Are you mad at me? What did I do? Is this about John B?”

JJ groaned. “This isn’t about John B! Nothing about this is about John B right now.”

He snapped at you and it took you aback. Your eyes widened , not expecting that from him. It made you frown and you took a step closer to him. “JJ please. . . tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I just— because I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“I love you.” JJ blurted. Now he was fully looking at you. “Okay? I love you. Not in the friend way. Not in a Pogue way. The in love with you way—” JJ suddenly felt the world lift off of his shoulders. It all started coming out like word vomit and he couldn’t stop it , but he didn’t want to either. “I love the way your hair gets all knotted up in the saltwater and it takes you hours to comb it out. I love that you wake up every morning and eat the same exact breakfast and makes sure everyone else in the house eats before they leave. I love that you love the animals and you care about nature. I even like you stupid little romance books that I pretend I hate hearing about when secretly I wish we were in our own love story. . .” he took a deep breath.

“I’ve loved you since the moment I met you , sweetheart and I’m trying to make it go away but it’s not.”

You were stunned. It all hit you at once and you stared. Mouth agape , eyes wide , and your cheeks flushed pink. It was the sweetest confession you had ever gotten , and the way JJ looked at you like you were the only girl in the world only added to the butterflies now swarming in your stomach.

“Why did you—” you stuttered , trying to figure out the words to say. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would it have changed anything?” JJ said defeated.

“It would have changed everything.” You admitted.

You weren’t sure what was going to happen now or how to navigate the news. Though you did know that something changed. It would forever be changed.

And you were okay with that.

[hazelfoureyes]

The Big Part (2)

Part 1

Alastor x Recently deflowered fem reader

Alastor had said he saved something for the next night after taking your virginity, and after what felt like a month and more of waiting, the next night finally came. As did Alastor. Multiple times.

「warnings/promises: smut, p in v, creampie, demon Alastor, Alastor isn’t so nice tonight cuz he’s ready to bust a nut babe sorry, cervix hulk smashed, drooling, lotsa cum, sex with the lights on, pretzel reader, curiosity killed the pussy cat, dom Alastor, organs shifted, it’s 2am so my proofreading may be shit」

Part 2

The Big Part: Bigger and Wetter

minors dni pls thank you bbs

Were you a whore? Or one of those sex addicted nymphos?

Ever since Alastor slid out of you and left you alone you could still feel him. A phantom limb of sorts, nestled between your legs and sunk to the hilt.

Was that normal? You couldn’t be sure. Not that you could ask anyone. Once again, same dilemma, Husk would groan and shoo you away. Angel would just start describing all of the dicks he wished he still felt.

More pressing, somehow, was the fact Alastor had scheduled to return tonight. Same time. You had no idea what time you’d been shadow portalled into your room the previous night.

To be safe, you returned to your room as soon as nightfall came. What if he came and you hadn’t been there? What if he never came back at all?

Despite your best efforts, you hadn’t seen him since he, you buried your head in your hands to hide from no one, deflowered you. What a silly word. You’d be a mess of damp pedals and scattered pollen had you been a flower. 

Biology of plants aside, the word pollen brought to mind the ‘first’ you’d be treated to soon. You crossed your legs, the idea of making Alastor cum was exciting enough. But to feel it? You couldn’t imagine. 

But you wanted to. 

Scooting back onto the bed, you settled under the covers. Maybe that craving would be cured with a little imagination. With embarrassing speed, you slipped your hand into your pants and down to your core. You were already so wet just from thinking about Alastor. Nearly pathetic levels of aroused, panties soaked. Kicking off your pants and underwear, you let your fingers feel at your entrance for the first time since Alastor pulled out. You didn’t feel different to the touch. But there was a throbbing ache inside you.

Your nondominant hand snaked around your thigh. One finger, then two, you remembered his hips against your body. The way he told you to make yourself orgasm. 

It wasn’t enough. You managed a third finger. Your free hand came to your clit. He’d just been there. Less than 24 hours before, you and he occupied the same space.

The hunger didn’t ebb. It wasn’t the size, or the speed, your newly greedy cunt wanted someone. Maybe fingers would never again be enough to satisfy you. Had Alastor knowingly cursed you to a lifelong addiction? You could almost hear him, smirk in his voice, “Missing me that much already?”

Your hand flew from your body, pitched knees caving in. You thought your heart might squeeze through the confines of your ribs from fright. As you looked over the blanket, there stood Alastor leaning on his microphone. His eyes were sharp, moving from your face to your lap and back.

“It’s a little rude to start the festivities before all the guests have arrived.” His hand gripped the blanket and yanked it off of you and the bed entirely. Exposed, your hands came back down to hide yourself which only made the deer demon laugh. “Darling, what’s there to hide?”

His shadow slithered up the wall behind him, voice crackling as an old radio filter cut through, “I’ve done more than look at you already.”

That somehow didn’t make it any less embarrassing. More so, as you thought about it. He’d done so much more than look. Alastor had been inside you.

When you didn’t say anything, he put one knee onto your bed and leaned forward. He used his microphone to slot between your legs and spread them open, “Remove your hands.”

You didn’t immediately respond.

“Oh, sorry,” a glow from his eyes as his head tilted unnaturally, “I suppose I wasn’t clear. That wasn’t a request, dear. If we’re going to do this you’re going to have to do as you’re told.” The tone of his voice paired with his changing eyes made you tremble. Your hands slipped up your stomach as you let him take in the sight of your glistening lips, already wet from your lazy fingering. “Good girl.”

He watched you clench and you swore you saw him swallow hard in response. A hum, “I’ll save that for tomorrow. Now!” He clapped, microphone flashing out of existence, “I believe we have a date. A new first for the taking.”

He was particularly excited about this one. Taking your virginity was definitely an amusing trophy but the idea of seeding your still virginal womb brought a twisted smile to his face. First in life and death to mark you from the inside. 

Alastor had spent all day avoiding you. He was quite worried just the sight of your hips swaying as you moved down the hall would incite him to take hold and bend you over the nearest surface. He hadn’t had sex in quite a while before your offer, but this little advent calendar of firsts you had so easily agreed to was triggering unusual reactions from him. His mind was plagued with all the ways he could change you. All of the sounds you’d offer him exclusive first rights to enjoying. All of the little flashes of fear and embarrassment you’d display as he claimed new parts of your body with his own. 

Already hard and throbbing in his pants, he knew he wouldn’t last too long. But luckily he had every intention of drowning your pussy so that wouldn’t be an issue. 

You watched his half lidded eyes scan over your body, tongue swiping over his lips. A fox in the hen house.

“You’ve already prepared I see! How considerate.” He inched closer. One hand removing his belt and pulling his leaking cock out in a scene you were happy to repeat, his other hand came to your entrance. Three fingers pushed into you, longer and thicker than your own. Immediately your expression shifted from embarrassed to debauched. That burn of his stretch was reminding you of how much he opened you up the night before.

You hadn’t realized you’d closed your eyes until they popped open in response to an unexpected sound. A lusty sigh coming from Alastor, his hand gripping the base of his member tightly as he finger fucked you. Being unsure what he was doing didn’t stop you from gripping his fingers tighter. Did it feel good for him to hold so tightly at himself? You clamped down again, his fingers stilling. Finally his eyes left your lap to meet your stare, following your line of sight to his hand around his cock.

“Perhaps,” his fingers pulled out, “You aren’t the only one eager to continue yesterday’s games.”

Games. You wouldn’t call any of this a game. But you were happy to play along if it meant that ache would soon be calmed. 

A pick up in your heart rate as he began undressing.

“Why today? Why get naked today?” A sharp look made you shrink, “I’m not complaining just…curious.”

A roll of his eyes, “I don’t want to stain my pants.”

Your eyes closed, needing a moment to calm down. What did that mean. Stain? With what??

You’d seen porn before, you weren’t completely naive. How much exactly would he…you opened your eyes, his face close to yours.

Mind blank. Skull entirely hollow as a clawed finger traced down your cheek. Gentle. Uncharacteristically gentle. Frighteningly gentle.

His nose grazed yours, hand tilting your face slightly so his mouth could ghost over yours without hitting against your nose. His smile open and letting his hot breath roll over your lips and chin.

Your eyes screwed shut, gasping sharply as you were taken by surprise by his sudden and complete entrance into you. Alastor had gotten close to drink in your expression when he entered you. He bottomed out in one move, a soft slap of his body hitting into yours. His sharp and predatory expression softening with the feeling of you surrounding him entirely. He hadn’t expected to react that way so he had no time to try and steel against the pleasured response.

An honest and open moment between you both, before his usual unbothered demeanor returned. 

“Much easier than before, right, dear?”

You could almost feel his grin on your skin. The ache dulled but didn’t leave you. Without thinking your hips rolled against him, itching for the friction your body craved. 

Alastor was entirely taken aback. Whimpering virgin turned hungry doe. His hands came to your hips and held you still, genuinely making you whimper.

“Now now, you’re getting ahead of yourself.” his nails dug into your flesh. 

Hitched breath, clenching now around the firm but yielding length spreading you open at the center. His head fell down slightly as shadows grew up the walls. Little prongs stretching out before his hips pushed against you. No drawback, just a deeper press. Your delicate but hungry organ moved with his intrusion and pulled a gasp from you.

Black dripped from his lips as sharp teeth cut against his grin before his eyes came up to meet yours, “Do you want me to take more of your first experiences?”

Voice heavy as it hit the air between you, the murmur of a waiting audience crisp and distant behind his tone.

You nodded. Of course you did. After the previous night you were desperate to feel everything you’d been missing out on.

His hips rolled into yours, pushing your stomach up with his length.

A moan, delayed as your senses were struggling to understand the still novel sensations. 

“Say it.”

Not a request. 

“I want you-.”

“Alastor.”

“I want you, Alastor, to take more firsts.”

His hips rolled again, that infamous grin reaching his ears. “Use your manners, my little doe.”

Another involuntary spasm around him, “Please.”

As if he was prepared for your answer, because he was, because he knew there was no other answer, his body was ready with a snap of his hips. “Perhaps I was too accommodating last night?” Another languid and punishing roll of his hips that started at his chest, allowing his entire length to slip out of you before just as easily pushing back in. Your eyes slid shut, mind fractured as it focused on the claws pressing into your flesh, on the still slight burn of your opening stretching at his widest part, at his voice making your body shiver. 

A tiny part of you thought you may actually die if he didn’t pick up the pace. 

He considered trying to keep his release at bay, but knew he’d have time to enjoy you as many times as he wanted. Your unspoken wish granted, his speed jumping from lazy and considered to determined and frantic. The warmth you provided, the slick wetness he coaxed out of you, all of it was thickening the fog of his mind. Finding an even rhythm to pull back the tension of his orgasm, you found yourself scrambling under him. The goal was definitely different now than the prior night, and as your eyes opened you could see he had clenched his shut. You knew what was coming, and though you weren’t actively trying to cum you still found a building pressure in your gut.

When your legs began to kick up to make some distance between his cock and your cervix, the pace so deep and rushed your body was feeling overstimulated already, his hands grabbed both ankles and pressed them as far up as your muscles could stretch. Your knees nearly pressed into your shoulders, raptured groans escaping you when you could feel all you’d done was allow him deeper access to you.

“Al-ah!” His name was too long, much like the other part of him choking you up now. Helpless to stop it, panicked by the feeling, you felt tears forming as your orgasm was truly forced out of you. You saw white as you trembled, crying out little pleas for him to let up the stimulation but he wasn’t listening anymore. His ears were pressed to his skull and ringing, heartbeat pounding in his head and down his cock.

What a help you were, squeezing him like your body needed his release as badly as he wanted to give it. You felt the heat of his seed filling you before his hips slowed, not stopping but pulling out more and more with every thrust until he was finishing on your lower lips.

His clawed thumb wiped the dripping liquid up and down your folds. Dirty. But dirtied by him, before anyone else. Alastor watched the way your hole twitched and wanted to devour you.

A moment finally of relief for your nerves, you tried to stop the way your pussy was twitching and working his cum deeper inside. You were surprised how hot you found it, a strange swelling of your pride at your body making him cum and a deep satisfaction at feeling that warm liquid coating your walls. Oh no, another addiction? Something else your fingers could never do…

You felt sleepy, emotionally rocked and physically spent, you sighed dramatically, “Alastor-,”

His other hand released your ankle but instead of pulling away, he gripped your hips and rolled you to your stomach.

A second of panicked confusion. “What are you doing?” You lifted yourself up on your elbows and looked back. Wide and creaking antlers loomed over you, eyes black and pupils red looking straight through you. Hungry. 

Something possessed you, not quite fear. Something even more base than that took in the demonic Alastor and felt compelled to raise your hips. “Alastor?” A little purposeful clenching, semen slipping past your still untouched clit and dribbling down your thighs and stomach as your head lowered back to the bed. 

Following an order you hadn’t been given yet was easy when his eyes were locked on your core. You whined, a new position meant a new angle so you held tightly to one of your pillows in anticipation.  

Your face pressed into the pillow as his body rubbed against yours. The hands on your thighs scratching upwards, “Words, sweetheart.” Deeper than before, scratchy and strained.

Biting your lip you considered just spontaneously combusting and turning to ash, but you wanted to feel more, you needed to see what else he could offer. Curiosity, pussy cats, a joke you couldn’t find the functioning neurons to piece together as you struggled to squeak out, “Are you done, Alastor? Or, I can k-keep going.” The heat of your blush threatened to follow through with the combustion, face burning with embarrassment for saying something so needy.

He knew you could. Lubed and softened, Alastor’s dick pressed into you and sank in with ease. That was the only response you received. Your body, for the first time ever, felt like it was made to take him. Everything felt swollen and sensitive as his still hard member pulled and pushed at your walls. The kind of sounds people paid to hear were filling the room, your moans long and deep now. The wet slap of his balls against your pussy sounded so sharp against the rounded breaths you seemed to sigh out.

Despite his sudden increase in size, your body gave way easily. Rutting into you, Alastor felt like a lesser creature. How rarely he dropped the more complicated facets of being an overlord and just let the demon in him dictate his moves. You were a different feast entirely to the lowly shark sinners he so easily took apart some time ago. A different kind hunger being satiated and stoked again in a lustful cycle. 

It felt like you were molded to him, forgetting his shape and learning it anew every time he buried himself into you. Looking down through the sharp contrast his demon form offered he could see himself being taken in deeper than before. He regretted suddenly not looking for the bulge he surely made earlier in your stomach as he had the night before. 

Your body had bones, you were sure of it, but you collapsed like jelly into the mattress. Alastor’s hips followed yours down, never missing a beat as he continued a bruising force. Your mind was swimming as your brain was 80% pleasure reception and 20% breathing deep enough to stay conscious. Heart beat dictated by the pitch of his breath. 

Drool soaked into your pillow, cum dripping down onto your blankets. Sweat slick body rocking into the bed as you felt a pulse at your clit. The electricity a response to your thoughts, your realization you were a cocksleeve for the cruelest overlord in recent memory. Was this an achievement? It felt like one. Another, louder moan from you as his breaths turned to growls. 

The blankets were ripped as his clawed hands balled into fists around you. 

What an education you were receiving. What a thorough teacher Alastor was for you. Your body already responding so well to your new lessons.

A daring move that got you scolded earlier but you pushed your ass back up into his body to greet him. This time Alastor was happy for it, the softness of your ass shaking as he humped down into your wet heat. Soft flesh he wanted to grip and bruise and scratch but he kept enough of himself to remember you were breakable. 

Too new still for a lesson on pain. No, right, he was supposed to be offering you the new sensations of being seeded.

Your hips were fucked off the bed as his speed quickened, your back bending uncomfortably.  You bit into the corner of the pillow, needing to do something with the static ricocheting inside your body. A flicker of the lights you had forgotten were still on was the only warning before both of his hands came to press between your shoulders and pin you down. A set of three thrusts, each deeper than the last as he came a second time. 

Your legs kicked up again, hitting lightly at the back of his legs as he reached a new depth, twinge of pain deep in your center as he pressed.

With a sigh, all of the air left your lungs. His hands slid down your back with a tickle, holding your cheeks open so he could watch himself pull out of you entirely.

Voice and body back to normal, Alastor patted softly at your thighs, “Thoroughly fucked now, dear. I’d say your pesky virginity has been completely and utterly taken.”

You couldn’t reply, brain going quiet as a blissed out sleep creeped up your spine.

“Happy to be of service, do come find me when you’re ready for my help again.” Was all you heard before his laugh was fading away. Either into the darkness of your dreams or into his own shadow, you couldn’t be sure. You were out cold before that laughter went quiet. 

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog  , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf ,  , @fizzled-phoenix ,  @phobophobular  , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo    , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl 

[lucentloo]

Broken Vases and Hot Chocolate

Summary: A broken vase makes you believe the brief paradise you gained at the Potters will be shattered but James helps you realize that you won't get hurt again.

James Potter x fem!reader

Wc: 1070

Content Warning: Fem!reader, Black!reader, reader is Sirius' sister, flinching, past abuse, Mrs. Potter to the rescue with her emergency hot chocolate!, Comfort, James and reader are in a relationship.

A/N: Hello guys! I am posting one fic after the other and there might be more bc I've got a lot of free time but I wouldn't expect this for the future unfortunately. I hope you're enjoying the New Year and I hope you enjoy my fifth fic on this blog! Have a good rest of your day/night and make sure to have some water!

You knew deep down that this was a mistake; your instincts screamed at you that you shouldn’t have followed Sirius when he begged you to come along. The intensity in his gaze, the way his heart ached for you to join him—along with Regulus—made it impossible to say no. With a heavy heart, you left your little brother in the care of those who had inflicted pain upon you and stepped into the unknown alongside Sirius at the Potters’ house.

Sirius was relentless in his reassurances, insisting that the Potters were kind and that you had no reason to fear them. He spoke with such conviction, claiming they would never raise a finger against you, but as the shards of glass glistened ominously at your feet, doubt clouded your mind.

You had been playing a spirited game of pass with James, the vibrant quaffle soaring back and forth between you, laughter escaping your lips like music on the warm afternoon breeze. But in an unfortunate moment, the ball slipped through your fingers, crashing into one of Mrs. Potter’s beautiful vases. The sound was deafening, a shatter so loud it seemed to echo through the air, alerting not only James but likely every neighbor on the block. In that instant, the blissful atmosphere transformed into one of panic, leaving you with the weight of uncertainty and dread.

James muttered a string of curses under his breath, his frustration palpable in the air. You flinched at the disturbance it caused, instinctively dropping to your knees to swiftly clean up the mess sprawled across the floor. The cool surface pressed against your skin as you worked, your heart racing. Sirius had mentioned that the Potters were generally more forgiving than others, so perhaps if you hurried, you could erase the evidence of your mistake before they noticed. You hoped that your diligence would spare you from their displeasure.

“Woah! Hey, what are you doing?” James asks as he watches the glass dig into your knees as you clean it up with uncovered hands.

“I’m cleaning,” you responded in what you hoped was a collected voice but knew that there were some cracks in there.

James quickly put on his deer slippers Sirius gave him for Christmas and stepped over the glass to stop your hands. “Sweet thing, you don’t have to do that, it was my fault the throw was too hard, come on.” He says gently as he brushes off the few small flakes of glass off your palm.

‘But I didn’t catch it. If you just let me clean it up then there would be less trouble and-”

You were cut off by James who put his on your waist and hoisted you up like you weighed nothing. He carried you over to the couch and set you down gently. “There is no trouble, just a knocked-down vase. Sure I might get in trouble with my mom but it was a vase given to her by my grandma, and honestly? My mom's been complaining about it for years.”

The only thing you managed to get from that was the fact that James might get in trouble with his mom. You thought Sirius said that the Potters weren’t as bad as your guys’ parents.

When James went to leave you grabbed his hands tight. Anxiety courses through you as the image of Hogwarts golden boy getting hurt flashes through your mind. That’s not right, he’s too good to be hurt like that. “Tell them it was me, that it was my fault.” Your words are desperate and pleading and James’ eyebrows furrow in concern when he starts to realize what this is all about.

“It’s fine, it was my fault and I’m fine with taking the blame.”

“But I don’t want you to get-”

“Nobody’s gonna get hurt,” James says with conviction. He raises his hand and slowly places it on your cheek. When he wipes away your tears you finally realize how much you were crying and shaking. You sniffle and try to hide your face in embarrassment but James wouldn’t let you.

“No matter what happens here, what you or anybody else does, no one will get hurt. I promise.” He says the last two words a bit softer as his hand travels from your cheek to the back of your neck so he can move your head to his chest.

You let him as you slump against him. You start crying even more and he doesn’t move or give any indication of how uncomfortable he is while crouching. “That’s it, just let it out. No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

You hear the door open and hear the silence that follows. You try to move out of James' hold, and he lets you, but he keeps his hand on your back while he looks at his parents. Sirius gives you a concerned look but you look down in your lap.

“What happened, dear?” You look up as Mrs. Potter comes over to the two of you. You choke up before you answer and look over to the corner of the living room instead. When she follows your line of sight she relaxes and sighs. “Oh James, again?”

You look over to James who has now moved to help his dad and Sirius with the groceries. He wears a shit-eating grin as he shrugs. “That boy.” Mrs. Potter says and to your surprise laughs while shaking her head. With a single wave of her wand, the mess is cleared and your injuries are healed as she places her hand on your back as she stands up.

You both make your way to the kitchen. “Do you like hot chocolate? I say it’s a must in the holidays.” With that, your usual smile comes back and you nod. You make your way to where James and Sirius are talking by the counter.

“Thank you, James, for dealing with my mini freak out.” You say quietly as Sirius pulls you into his side.

James just smiles fondly. “How many times have I told you, sweetheart, it’s not dealing with you, it’s loving you. Two different things.” He kisses your head and squeezes your hand before going to help his mom with the hot chocolate.

“I still think it’s disgusting that he’s dating you.”

You laugh and nudge Sirius's side. “Sirius!”

He shrugs his shoulders and holds you closer. “Just saying.”

You smile warmly and lean in more, knowing you could use a few minutes of just hugging.

[astra-ravana]

A Guide To Shape-Shifting

Shape-shifting has long captivated the human imagination, holding a prominent place in the realms of witchcraft and the occult. In fact, the myth of the shape-shifting witch can be found in folklore around the world and across multiple cultures, from the British Isles to the Americas to Asia and Africa. Witches were reported to turn into rabbits, cats, deer, mice, owls, ravens, and wolves. Shape-shifting is an intriguing practice that involves altering one's physical form, or at least one's perception and is often associated with mystical abilities and spiritual connections.

What Is Shape-Shifting?

Shape-shifting, in the context of witchcraft refers to the belief and practice of altering one's form or perception through magick and ritual and can take place in the Otherworld or on our current astral plane, depending on the needs of the witch. It encompasses the idea of undergoing a physical or metaphysical transformation, allowing witches to embody different beings, animals, or even objects. Often times this occurs when the witch wears the body of an animal, we know literal transformation is not possible, but it can certainly happen on an energetic or spirit level. This can occur in one of two ways: the witch's spirit transforms into the spirit of an animal or the witch's spirit 'rides' a living animal or external spirit on the physical plane or in the Otherworld. In either case, both are considered shape-shifting and can be used for the same purposes.

Some History

By the 13th century, it was widely believed witches could turn into animals at will. Witches were believed to turn into hares, toads, dogs, cats, and other animals to steal from their neighbors, curse livestock, and otherwise create mischief and mayhem. In many cases, harm done to the animal form caused similar wounds to the human.

In 1649, John Palmer of St. Albans, England confessed to transforming into a toad in order to torment his neighbor. The neighbor reportedly kicked the toad and Palmer complained of sore shins afterward. Similar stories appear in American folklore, including Aunty Greenleaf who was said to take on the form of a white doe to torment her neighbor's livestock. When the doe was shot with three silver bullets, Aunty Greenleaf was said to later die with three silver bullets in her spine.

Of course shape-shifting myths and folklore don't end there. We also have the Navajo skinwalker, the American loup-garou, Korean kumiho, Japanese yokai, the Kitsune, and the Mexican La Lechuza.

Famous incantations come from Isobel Gowdie during the 17th century witch trials. During her confessions, Gowdie named two charms one for transforming into a hare and and one for transforming back into a woman.

To Transform Into A Hare:

"I shall go into a hare

With sorrow and such a meickle care;

And I shall go in the Devil's name

Ay while I come home again."

To Transform Back:

"Hare, hare, God send thee care.

I am in a hare's likeness now,

But I shall be in a woman's likeness even now."

Other witches reported similar shape-shifting incantations as seen below.

To Transform Into A Cat:

"I shall go into a cat,

With sorrow and such a black shat;

And I shall go in the Devil's name,

Ay while I come home again."

To Transform Into A Crow:

"I shall go into a crow,

With sorrow and such a black thraw;

And I shall go in the Devil's name,

Ay while I come home again."

Modern Uses Of Shape-Shifting

In contemporary witchcraft, shape-shifting has taken on metaphorical and symbolic significance. Modern witches utilize shape-shifting as a tool for personal growth, empowerment, and self-discovery. Through the exploration of different archetypes and primal instincts, witches seek to deepen their understanding of themselves and their connection to the natural world, develop a relationship with an animal guide or totem, or even gain new perspectives on a problem. Shape-shifting becomes a means to tap into hidden aspects of the psyche and to embrace transformative experiences. This can take many forms, including calling upon different animal spirits during spellwork, meditating on different animal aspects, working with animal spirits, journaling, ritual dances, etc.

Shape-shifting also shares a deep connection with shamanic journeying and hedge riding, a practice in which the witch traverses the different realms of the Otherworld for spiritual insight and healing. Within hedge riding and othet shamanic traditions, shape-shifting serves as a means to enter other dimensions, communicate with spirits, and tap into their wisdom and attributes. By assuming the form of a particular animal, the shamen can embody ita qualities, accessing unique perspectives and guidance on their journey. An animal form is also taken often as a form of protection during otherworldly travel, as animal spirits are often able to traverse undetected, acting as a form of invisibility, much like Celtic fith-fath incantations. An animal form also allows the witch to travel more quickly and in some cases, access areas previously unreachable, such as high mountain tops, deep within an ocean or lake, or even borrowing underground or into tight spaces.

How To Shape-Shift

Modern witches engage in shape-shifting through various techniques and practices. Visualization exercises play a significant role, where witches create vivid mental images of their desired form or archetype, often coupled with ritual work such as wearing animal skin/bones, dancing, drumming, or incantations. Through meditation, yoy can enter a state of deep focus and receptivity, allowing yourself to embody the essence and qualities of the chosen form. Energy work such as harnessing personal energy or working with elemental forces, can serve as a catalyst for the transformation, although most witches find it easier to use a mask or skin, or use an ointment to prompt the change. Needless to say, there are multiple approaches to shape-shifting and you need to experiment to find which method works best for you. Below are several ways to engage in shape-shifting from both folklore and modern witchcraft.

• Incantations And Charms- This is probably one of the most commonly cited historical ways to shape-shift, with the incantations from Isobel Gowdie and her fellow witches being cited most often. These incantations can be modernized and adapted to turn you into any animal you desire. Since most witches do not incorporate "God" or the Devil in their craft, these titles can be changed to reference deities or the forces you believe in such as Lord/Lady, Horned God, Hekate, Lilith, etc. Pagan musician Damh the Bard does an excellent job of this in his "Fith Fath Song" where he says "I shall go as a wren in spring

With sorrow and sighing on silent wing

And I shall go in our Lady's name

Aye, til I come home again

Then we shall follow as falcons grey

And hunt thee cruelly for our prey

And we shall go in our Horned God's name

Aye to fetch thee home again

Then I shall go as a mouse in May

Through fields by night and in cellars by day

And I shall go in our Lady's name

Aye til I come home again

Then we shall follow as black tom cats

And hunt through the fields and the vats

And we shall go in our Horned God's name

Aye to fetch thee home again... "

Of course writing your own incantations works just as well, if not better, than using others' words.

• Wearing Animal Skins, Bones, Or Masks- Apart from incantations, many witches engage in shape-shifting by animal skins, bones, or masks to encourage a transformation. This is often coupled with ritual dancing and drumming until an altered state of consciousness is reached. In Call of the Horned Piper, Nigel Jackson describes such a ritual. In order to shape-shift, the initiate would undergo a symbolic death by undressing and crossing a lake or other body of water. Upon arriving on the other side they would don a wolf skin or belt and enter into an altered state of consciousness to "be projected forth into the form of a wolf". This same practice can be replicated with any animal pelt, bone, or mask, using a cold shower as the bridge to 'death' should you not have access to a river or lake and privacy.

• Trance, Meditation, and Visualization- Reaching an altered state of consciousness coupled with one or both of the aforementioned methods is the key to actual transformation. Reaching an altered state of consciousness can be done in a variety of ways, including ritual dancing, drumming, humming, consuming psychoactive plants, or using ointments. The methods used are essentially the same as hedge-riding, however the goal of reaching the trance state is to shape-shift. With that intention firmly in your mind, you can visualize yourself shifting into your animal form, your consciousness slowly becoming that of an animal. You may find walking/crawling on all fours, growling, hissing, or otherwise behaving like the animal aids in this transformation. Become the animal you wish to transfrom into.

If you are looking to shape-shift while hedge-riding, visualizing the shift, reciting an incantation, and donning your animal garb within the Otherworld will also work. Unlike on our plane, you won't need to shift your consciousness again, as that has already occurred. While you don't necessarily need anything physical to do this, having real animal remains or a mask on your person prior to hedge-riding will greatly aid you in your work on the astral plane.

When first starting out, start small, shape-shifting for very short periods of time. Experiment with a variety of methods, combining them into a ritual that works for you.

Shape-Shifting Safety

There are dangers to shape-shifting into an animal form. This includes not being able to return to your body because tou have forgotten you're human, forgetting which realm you belong to, being captured, injured, or killed within the Otherworld or while riding a live animal. There are many tales of witches traversing the world as an animal and being injured only for the same wounds to appear on the witch's human form. These injuries sometimes resulted in the death of the witch, so be mindful of hazards while shape-shifting.

What You Can Do To Protect Yourself

1. Set clear and firm boundaries and time limits for travel. Setting an alarm or using a musical cue can help pull you back from a trance.

2. Have a spotter who can help rouse you should you not come back when originally planned.

3. Have a safe word or incantation that when spoken pulls your spirit into your body.

4. Use a red witch's thread tied around your finger or arm to anchor your spirit to your physical body. If you get lost, follow the thread back to your body.

5. Carry or wear protective charms that will prevent your spirit from being stolen or harmed while in the Otherworld. Your familiar or household pet can also act as a protector of your body, sitting on or near you during shape-shifting to ensure nothing else tries to inhabit your body.

6. When you are finished, make sure you are completely grounded in your human body.

Shape-shifting in witchcraft remains an enigmatic and alluring practice, intertwining myth, history, and contemporary spirituality. It offers a gateway to explore the depths of our own selves, connect with the primal forces of nature, and embark on transformative journeys of self-discovery. Whether through the exploration of archetypes, communion with spirits, or embracing the hidden aspects of our being, shape-shifting provides a mystical transformation that resonates with the essence of true witchcraft.

[wheeboo]

shirt(less) | lee jihoon

SYNOPSIS. in which jihoon should really learn to wear a shirt whenever someone is at his place... unless you don't want him to. PAIRING. lee jihoon x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. shirtless jihoon (yes, this is the MAIN warning), just reader (you guys 🫵 checking him out), a lil lil suggestive, kissing, terms of endearment, mild cursing WORD COUNT. 1.3k

notes: just a silly thought i had thanks to nana tour blessing us with shirtless clips 😚

Jihoon really isn't used to people sleeping over at his place.

It's not like he doesn't want for people to sleep over (some of his members have involuntarily slept over many, many times at some point), he's fine with people sleeping over as long as he has his own little space to decompress. His place is his safe haven, his personal castle, his own little pocket of Jihoon-ness where he could exist without the need to put on a show. Here, he could simply be Lee Jihoon.

That is, until his life started to intertwine with you.

It was a simple invitation𑁋you decided to stop by with dinner and ended up staying longer than usual, and Jihoon had offered for you to stay the night. He remembers seeing the hesitant look to your face at first, but then you agreed with a warm smile. And despite some of the nerves and shaking off the anxious thoughts realising he had just offered you to stay at his place for the first time in your early relationship, Jihoon found comfort in the fact that it was you. And that's okay.

However, he probably should've been more mindful with you staying here. When he's alone and doesn't have anyone staying over (which again, he isn't exactly used to), he's used to settling down for the night at his own pace, with his own routine, so he probably should've told you beforehand that he... doesn't sleep with a shirt on most of the time.

And no, he didn't forget that you were sleeping over; it's just that the thought simply slipped his mind and hit him the moment he had opened the door to his bedroom.

"Hoonie, do you think tomorrow we can𑁋oh my god!"

The loud shriek makes Jihoon shoot his eyes to where you stood next to his bed, noticing the blush that had quickly spread across your face as your eyes widen in surprise. He lifts a brow, before looking down at himself, and he feels the embarrassment heat up at the tips of his ears.

Oh, he's shirtless.

You find yourself standing frozen like a deer caught in headlights, mind going blank, unable to tear your eyes away from your boyfriend's chest in full display in front of you. Your cheeks are definitely burning hotter than the kimchi stew you shared for dinner earlier.

Jihoon's heart stutters in his chest. He feels a blush of his own creeping up his neck, mirroring the one painting your cheeks like a delicate rose. Shit, he wants to melt into the floorboards, disappear into the fabric of his nonexistent shirt. But instead, he stands there, frozen in the awkward form of his bedroom doorway.

"I, uh..." he stammers, voice barely above a whisper. "I usually don't sleep with a shirt on."

He knows it sounds lame, like something a teenager caught in his underwear might say. But it's the truth, the only defense he has against the heat rising in his cheeks and the sudden, unwelcome flutter in his stomach.

Your eyes might as well bulge out of your skull at this point, darting between his bare torso𑁋taking in the clean lines of his abs and the gentle curve of his shoulder blades𑁋and the open door behind him, contemplating a quick escape route that wouldn't involve jumping out of the window. A nervous laugh escapes your lips, before you snap your gaze away.

You have seen Jihoon on stage, in music videos, in photoshoots𑁋you know he has a good build, sure. But seeing him shirtless in his own private space, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, it all felt impossibly intimate. And you can't help but ogle.

"I... I didn't know," You finally let out nervously, eyes flitting back to his chest for a fleeting moment before darting away again.

His eyes meet yours, and you see a flicker of vulnerability in them. He's nervous too, You realise.

"Sorry," he mumbles in slight embarrassment. "I should've warned you."

Warned you? You almost want to laugh at that. How could anyone warn you for the sight of your boyfriend, shirtless and disheveled, standing in his bedroom doorway?

"It's okay," You assure, gathering your wits. "It's just... unexpected."

Then Jihoon lets out a chuckle. "You're acting as if you haven't seen me shirtless before. I send you gym pictu𑁋"

"Okay, b-but this is in person, so it's different!" You exclaim quickly, cutting his words off.

"So do... you want me to put on a shirt? If it makes you uncomfortable𑁋"

"No! It-it's fine, really. I mean, it's your place, and you're comfortable, right?" You interject, your words a bit too rushed. "I'll just... get used to it. It's okay. Besides, you... look really good."

Jihoon's cheeks flush even deeper. He sees the way your eyes keep flicking back to his torso, then quickly looking away, and it makes his heart race in a different way this time. It's not the nervous thump of embarrassment anymore, but something else. He steps closer to you, and you nearly stub your toe on the footboard of his bed.

“You think so?" he questions, a pinch of tease to his words.

You nod, heart still throbbing in your chest. "Yeah, I-I mean I know you work hard at the gym and that you're always practicing so I𑁋"

Jihoon cuts you off with his lips melting onto yours. It's a kiss that tastes like surprise, like nervous laughter held back, like the sweet, lingering warmth of the kimchi stew from earlier. Your hands find their way to his arms, tentatively tracing the line of his biceps, before wrapping around him and pulling him closer, your palms meeting the smooth contours of his back. The warmth of his skin against yours sends shivers down your spine, and you feel yourself melt into him, the awkwardness of the situation forgotten.

When he pulls away, his eyes are soft and locked on yours, searching for your reaction. A playful smile dances on his lips, and you can't help but return it with a breathless giggle of your own, before a yawn leaves you. You stifle it with the back of your hand, feeling your eyelids getting heavy despite the surge of electricity that coursed through you just moments ago.

"Tired?" Jihoon asks you.

"Yeah, a bit." You sit down on his bed, toying at his soft sheets with your fingers. "Lay down with me?"

The smile on his face widens just slightly, and that's enough of an answer that you need. You crawl into the bed, slipping under the covers as he climbs in beside you, pulling the covers over both of you. The bed smells like him, a comforting mix of laundry detergent and his natural scent, and you snuggle closer into his pillow, letting your exhaustion melt away.

You feel Jihoon shift right behind you, hearing a yawn of his own leave his mouth. You flip yourself around to face him, your eyes meeting his sleepy ones in the soft moonlight filtering through the window.

"Is it okay if... if we cuddle?" You whisper, a hint of shyness in your voice.

A curve of Jihoon's lips bloom like a flower opening to the morning sun.

"More than okay," he replies softly.

Then he wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you close, his bare chest warm against yours. It's more intimate than you ever imagined your first sleepover at his place would be, yet it feels incredibly right. You let out a contented sigh as you adjust yourself in his hold, your head resting on his chest and your legs intertwined together under the sheets.

"Comfortable?" he murmurs, voice a low rumble in the quiet room.

"Mhm," You hum in response, nuzzling closer to him.

Some silence passes, and you take the time to listen to Jihoon's heartbeat against your ears, with a finger lightly tracing the outline of his shoulder, his skin smooth and warm under your fingertips. His breath quietly hitches from your touch.

"Mmh, babe?" You call out to him. "Can I tell you something?"

Jihoon's eyes flutter open. "Hmm?"

A tiny smirk crosses over your face, and you move yourself up in his hold to be able to whisper in his ear, your breath tickling against his skin.

"You're so pretty."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @rozisisme @rubywonu

[rejectedbytheempty]

all day and all of the night

pairing: simon riley x f!reader, no use of y/n

word count: 2.7k

cw: mentions of kidnapping

synopsis: after a long night out you wake up in a stranger’s bed, wearing an oversized t-shirt you assume to be his, chaos ensues

Before you even open your eyes, you feel a painful throbbing at the base of your skull. You groan as you roll over onto your back, putting your hands on either side of your face as if it would soothe the pounding in your head.

The last thing you remembered was thinking that one more shot wouldn’t hurt and that it was the weekend anyway, what’s the worst that could happen? You guessed that there were many more drinks to follow, but nothing you could recall. you managed to peel your eyelids open, half-crusted with leftover mascara.

The room spun slightly as the world came into view and you resisted the urge to lean over the side of the bed and empty your stomach from the vertigo.

“Christ”, you muttered, your voice hoarse and painful.

Rubbing at your throat, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and looked out into your room. Only... it wasn’t your room.

It felt as if ice water splashed down your back as the haze from your hangover was won over by a new feeling: fear. Looking down, you saw that instead of the clothes you wore to the club last night, you were in an oversized army green t-shirt. Now you really felt like you were going to throw up, and you did, managing to scramble over to a trash can before last night’s dinner could be spewed all over the carpet.

After a few dry heaves, you figured the worst was over and you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Now that the wave of nausea had lessened significantly, you started taking stock of your situation.

You were in a sparsely decorated room, a couple of books sitting on the desk, and a dresser nestled in the corner of the room. That, and the cologne smell that was wafting off the shirt you were wearing meant that you were in a man’s room.

Although your mini skirt and low-cut top were nowhere to be found, you did note that you were still wearing the same bra and underwear you had on last night. And it didn’t seem like there were any marks on you or any indication that you had been touched beyond the obvious fact you had been changed into different clothes.

Suddenly, you realized that your phone was nowhere to be found either, instilling you with a new sense of panic.

“Shit!” you muttered softly, searching under the covers and crouching to look below the bed frame. You looked over at the door, and since you didn’t have your phone or any way of knowing where you were, you supposed you were going to have to try the door.

You cautiously stepped over to it, reaching out for the handle like it was some kind of cursed object. You shrieked loudly in shock when the handle turned abruptly and the door swung inwards.

In stepped a behemoth of a man, with white scars running across his face, almost like how the sky looked in a lightning storm. The scar on his lip deepened as he frowned, looking directly at you. You were frozen in place, unable to do anything but stare at him like a deer in headlights.

“What are you yellin’ for?” he asked in a low, rumbling voice.

“W-what?” was all you could manage to say.

He stepped closer, shutting the door behind him, “You squawked like a chicken when I opened the door.”

You swallowed thickly, “You scared me.”

He seemed to soften at that, his brown eyes losing some of their edge as he took in your situation. You probably looked a mess, remnants of makeup still on your face, your hair mussed up from sleep, and a shirt about two sizes too big hanging off your frame, just barely covering the lace panties you had on.

To be fair, if he was the one who took off your clothes, then he had already seen them so it wouldn’t really faze him if he saw the black lace poking out. Not that those semantics really mattered to you when he was standing there and staring you down.

“Why am I here?” you asked suddenly, unsure where you got the courage to speak from.

He blinked at you and then his mouth twisted into a mischievous grin, “You mean, you don’t remember?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, as it seemed like this conversation was slipping away from your control by the second, “I.. uh, maybe, maybe not.”

His grin grew even wider at your words, then he started laughing, actually laughing in your face. You folded your arms across your chest, face turning into a scowl. Kidnapper or not, he was being rather rude.

“What’s so funny?” you asked.

He shook his head, still laughing softly, “Oh, nothing. Just that you got pretty wild last night.”

Your angry expression faded slightly, you let your crossed arms fall down from your chest to your midsection, “I was?”

He nodded, “Oh yeah, climbing on the bar, singing along to all the songs, even if you didn’t know the words.”

You gulped, feeling your face flush slightly, “I.. might’ve done that, I’m not sure.”

He nodded, and you noticed that he was enjoying this, the sick bastard. “Mhm, and you kept saying that you were, quote, going to remember this night forever! unquote.”

Your hands had now fallen at your sides as flames licked up your cheeks at the mentions of your antics. You looked down at the ground as you asked him, “So, how did I end up here?”

“After the bartender cut you off, you threatened to sue him and then you tried to punch him. I stepped in, pulling you off of him and wrangled you out of the bar. I was gonna get you an Uber or a taxi but you wouldn’t let go of me. Even after you threw up.. on the both of us.”

You looked up at the last sentence, suddenly realizing why he had changed you out of your clothes. It all made sense, and as he was describing last night to you, some fragments and pieces of your memory came back. Although, you wish they didn’t. You hid your face in your hands, groaning slightly, both from your memories and from the pain of your headache coming back with a vengeance.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry” you said through your hands, not even wanting to look him in the eyes.

There was a pause for a moment and then he said, “It’s alright, couldn’t just leave you to be by yourself like tha’ at the bar, who knows what coulda happened?”

You managed to take your hands off your face and look back up at him again, “Thank you, seriously. If there’s any way I can pay you back or-”

He put a hand up to stop you, shaking his head, “Don’t worry ‘bout it, how ‘bout you let me make you breakfast, hm?”

You weren’t sure if you could keep it down, but you nodded anyway. Who were you to refuse his offer when he had already done so much for you?

“Right then, it’s settled. Why don’t you freshen up some and breakfast should be ready by then?” He pointed to the hall, “the next door is the guest bathroom, has some toiletries for you to use.”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

He nodded gruffly and left the room. You shut your eyes forcefully, feeling the roar in your ears at the pressure. “Fuckkkkkkk” you let out a long sigh. After scrubbing your hands down your face, you decided to follow his directions and headed to the guest bathroom. You figured that maybe after you splashed some cold water on your face, it would turn out that this was all some horrible dream.

It wasn’t a dream like you were hoping but you were grateful for the toothbrush and toothpaste, finally cleaning the taste of bile from your mouth. Digging through the cabinets, you found a new package of travel deodorant and some hair products that you also made use of. You also found a container of paracetamol and quickly took two to ease the pounding in your head.

Looking in the mirror you saw death staring back at you, but at least the person you were looking at didn’t smell so much like vodka anymore.

He was right, when you walked into the kitchen he had just finished up breakfast and was setting out two plates with plentiful servings. You took a seat at the kitchen table across from him and after he picked up his fork and started eating, you looked down at your plate.

He had made you two fried eggs with runny, orange yolk, toast slathered with butter, strawberry jam dripping down the sides, and some browned sausage, covered in a light sheen of oil. Hesitantly, you picked up the piece of toast, taking ginger bites out of fear the food would come rushing back up.

After eating about as much as you could stomach, you washed it all down with the glass of orange juice he had set out for you. When you looked up you saw that he had raised an eyebrow at your still half-full plate but said nothing about it.

He gestured his head towards your plate in a silent question of ‘you gonna eat that?’ You shook your head and he eagerly took the plate from you, scooping your leftovers onto his own portion.

As he began digging into the spoils, you broke the silence, “Sorry, I’m not sure if you told me yesterday, or not, but what’s your name?”

He swallowed the bite he was chewing and shook his head, “I didn’t tell you yesterday, you were too busy puking on my leather jacket.” You winced at that but he continued, “The name is Simon. Simon Riley.”

You nodded, it was a fitting name, you supposed. In turn, you shared your name and he hummed in acknowledgement, “I know.”

At your confused expression, he elaborated, “I had to close your tab at the bar, needed to know your name so I.. may have looked at your driver’s license,” he at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed for going through your personal items. You weren’t really sure what to say. On the one hand, you were grateful he closed your tab for you, but he also invaded your privacy.

You settled on ambivalence for his actions, “Thank you, I guess?”

“You’re welcome” he said, around a mouthful of toast. You just barely hid your expression of disgust. As nice as he was, he didn’t really have any table manners, and must be limited on human interaction based on your short conversation with him.

“So,” he asked after he wiped his mouth clean, “were you there with your friends?”

“Yeah, we were having some kind of girl’s night.” He frowned at your words, “And your friends let you go on like that?” You opened your mouth to defend them, but at that moment, you couldn’t really think of anything to defend them.

For one, they watched as you got blackout drunk, and instead of making sure you got home, they let some random man take you home? You hoped they at least had the decency of texting you this morning and asking if you were okay. Speaking of, where was your phone?

“Did I still have my phone on me when.. well, when we went home together?” He nodded, “I put it on a charger last night, should be fully charged by now.” He pointed to an outlet in the entryway where your phone sat on a small wooden table next to a scratched up old iPhone, that looked so outdated that you wouldn’t be shocked if it was the first model Steve Jobs came out with. You laughed audibly but quickly covered your mouth when you realized what you had done.

“Right, what’s so funny, then?” he asked.

You turned to look over at him, and grinned, pointing at his phone, “This yours?”

He nodded, “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

You laughed again, “I’m surprised this old of a model still works!”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “Of course it still works, wouldn’t be using it if it didn’t.”

You shrugged, “Guess so, just maybe think about buying a phone from the past decade, yeah?”

He just grunted and shook his head, “Don’t need one with all those fancy gadgets and whatnot, if it works, it works.”

You took your phone off the charger and walked back over to the table, “Whatever you say, Simon.” He scoffed in response but seemed more amused than actually angry at your teasing. You smirked at him but then turned your attention to your phone as it powered back on.

Must’ve died last night, then, good thing Simon charged it, you thought.

You did have a few texts from your friends, as it turns out, but not the worried ones you were hoping for. They were all from last night, something along the lines of ‘met this cute guy, see ya!’ and ‘hope you have fun with that total hunk you left with.’ “Assholes,” you muttered under your breath as you scrolled through the thread.

You weren’t expecting them to babysit you, but maybe a little check on you would’ve been nice. What if you had been drugged, or Simon had been a kidnapper? Your death could’ve ended up on a true crime podcast sandwiched between a distasteful comment on how hot your kidnapper was and a Hello Fresh ad break.

“Not good news, I take it?” Simon asked.

Your scowl did make it pretty obvious, and you sighed, “Yeah, not good. I mean, it’s like they didn’t even care if I made it home last night!”

He hummed in response. He was not a man of many words, you had discovered.

“I mean, seriously, I can’t even count the number of times I’ve held their hair back when they puked behind the bushes, or gotten them home when they overdid it on the tequila, and how do they repay me? By leaving me in the dust, that’s what.”

You were genuinely fuming now, as if last night had woken up years of pent up rage. “They never appreciated me, they never invited me places unless they wanted to have someone DD, they always hung out without me, and they constantly asked for money without even paying me back for the other times I had lent them money!”

It was silent in the kitchen for a moment, then Simon laughed, “Good on ya, luv. Knew they were wankers anyway.”

You helped Simon clean up the dishes, even though he had emphatically insisted you didn’t need to, he finally relented when you had explained that it wasn’t fair that he do all the cooking and all the cleaning.

You both made quick work of the chore and as you wiped your sudsy hands on your shirt, you remembered that it was not, in fact, your shirt you were wearing.

“By the way, where did you put my clothes?”

“Laundry room, put them in a plastic bag on top of the washer. Figured you would want to wash it yourself, considering most girls have some kind of preference for drying or not drying, or the temperature of the load.”

Hm, someone cooked here.

“Oh, thank you. Just.. I figured I wouldn’t stay around long enough to do laundry at your place, and since I wanted to not get catcalled the second I stepped outside, I’d prefer if I had some kind of pants. Do you think I can maybe borrow one of yours?” You asked hesitantly, you felt like you had already overstepped a million boundaries and here you were asking the poor man for more things.

He nodded, “Sure, I think I have some old sweatpants in my closet that are too small for me now. You can have those. You can keep the shirt, too, I have about a dozen of the same kind.”

You brightened, “Thank you, so much. I mean, seriously, you’re like an angel or something.” He froze, blush spreading faintly across his cheeks, “Not an angel” he muttered softly, “but you’re welcome.”

a/n: ok so i did post this before my blog got accidentally deleted and im ngl this fic did flop hard, and you’d think i’d take the hint, right? but nope!! gonna post it again bc i’m insane!! anyways, lmk if you guys want me to continue this 🫶

[demonic0angel]

May we get a story for your animal au? Maybe deer danny/cass, or wolf jazz/jason, or just the phantom family dealing with the fact they are animals? Anything your brilliant brain can comeup with.

(Taking a different route with this one lmao)

Damian walked in through the door. "Hello, Father. Hello, Richard."

"Hello, Damian," Bruce said, not taking his eyes off of the newspaper.

When he looked up, Damian had slipped through the doors and to his room. Bruce looked at Dick, whose mouth was completely open as he stared after where Damian had disappeared.

"... Dick?" Bruce asked.

Dick turned to Bruce slowly with wide eyes. "Damian just brought a bird, a snake, a deer, and a wolf into the manor."

".... WHAT?!??!"

————

The entire family congregated around Damian's room, which was locked.

"Damian?" Dick asked, very sickly sweet. "Could you open the door for us?"

"Who's us?" Damian asked after a long moment. There was some shuffling and clacking noises like he was rearranging the room.

Jason pulled up his sleeves at this point, but Duke and Tim quickly held him down, resulting in some muffled cursing and more scuffles. Bruce pinched his nose.

"Uhm. All of us. Damian! We're really worried, I think I saw a wolf and a snake enter your room? Dami? Please open the door," Dick said desperately.

Damian gave a long, audible sigh, and then said, "Give me a moment. I'll open the door in a few minutes when I'm ready."

Dick put his head in his hands. It was Bruce who asked, "Are you safe, son?"

"I'm fine! They're docile and quite nice. You're all worrying for nothing."

True to his word, the door opened a few moments later and they all poured into his room, where they gaped at the sight of the animals around his bed.

A white deer with large horns sat at the foot of his bed, looking at them with wise, green eyes. A peregrine falcon perched on his headboard, chirping. An enormous, black wolf prowled closer and brushed against Damian's side, almost making them all jump, which was only worsened when they realized the other black thing around his body was a large king cobra, hissing softly.

"Damian?!" Dick nearly shrieked. "That's a—"

"King cobra? Yes, I am aware. These four were traveling together around Gotham Academy while I was studying, so I went to see them and earned their trust. I asked them to follow me home and they have agreed. So here they are."

Jason blurted out, "Are you fucking crazy?" And Tim and Stephanie rushed to agree, already reaching out to pull Damian away from the wolf and snake.

Damian pulled away from them with a huff. "It's fine! I am alright! They are obedient and won't attack me. Look." He pressed a hand to the wolf's snout and pushed. Said wolf was so large that its head reached even higher than Damian's gelled hair.

It didn't move when Damian pushed at it, but when he insisted, it then gently toppled over with a huff, like the way an overgrown dog could be pushed to the floor.

Damian beamed and bent down slowly, as to not dislodge the cobra around his neck, to furiously pet and stroke the wolf. Its fur was so thick that his hands sank straight through, which only delighted him more. The wolf's tail wagged and then the deer approached with a gentle rumble, also wanting pets.

The falcon wasn't far behind, flying towards them with a screech before landing on Damian's shoulder gently. The cobra didn't even twitch, just flicking out its tongue.

Damian beamed again. "See! They're very docile!"

"This entire family is crazy," Duke muttered, and the rest of them could only mournfully agree, watching as their little brother was starting to fall in love with four random, dangerous, wild animals.

It was too late. They were now pets.

[nunalastor]

Deer love chowing down on human rib cages.

[rafeysbambii]

hypnosis : s2!rafe has to handle some guys that were talking down on his bambi.

warnings : lots of cursing, rafe beats a group of guys up, a little nsfw at the end (not a lot but soon!)

story type : fic / drabble !

a/n : i’ve reached 280 followers! this is so mind blowing to me, thank you all so much for all of the support! i’m so glad you guys are enjoying these! i love you all so very much! and also, bambi calling rafe ‘my hunter’ is canon and i won’t be told otherwise.🤍

(you get it cause she’s the deer and he’s the hunter.. yeah.)

rafe loved bambi, but of course he wouldn’t admit it (even though it’s painfully obvious) out loud to anyone besides her. and that ladies and gentlemen is the reason why he spoils to the fuck out of her, new shoes, new clothes, trips to the zoo to see her weird looking animals, and even getting her little beetle car wrapped in a pretty light brown per her mention.

and he’d be damned if anyone were to disrespect him or his girl.

well today was like any other friday for the almost couple, bambi has driven to the country club to meet rafe so she could watch him play some rounds of golf - or mostly for the free drinks and watching his muscles flex with each swing.. but who’s business other than hers is that?

and also like usual, rafe had some work to do and ordered bambi to meet him at the country club, get a little flute of champagne to keep herself occupied, and just kick back and wait for him to arrive.

and she would’ve done just that…

if she didn’t hear a group of guys laughing obnoxiously at her and rafe’s table. but here’s the kick, she heard rafe’s name flow so effortlessly out of their mouths. “ — right, man i’m telling you, she’s hot as fuck, rafe is a lucky man but shit is she making him soft.. i mean i asked him if he could grab me some stardust, and you know what he told me?”

“he told me ‘i don’t do that shit anymore, don’t want my bambi getting involved with that.’ he’s pussy whipped!” she had heard about ‘stardust’, but of course rafe had told her ‘not to worry her pretty little head about it’, “man that pussy must be magical, cause you can’t catch me quitin that shit for a quiet bitch. he needs to go back to fuckin’ the girls with the big tits and never gave a fuck!”

that’s what really set bambi off, what made the tears flow from her big bug eyes, what made her run out of the country club and into her small car, and before she can even start it up, she’s violently sobbing into her hands to the lowered sound of ‘Picture you’ by Chappell Roan (queen mama.)

yet even with her favorite music artist playing in the back, she can’t help but tune it out on her drive all the way back to her home in tanneyhill, just a few blocks down from rafes house where he’s probably still finishing up his work, but she can’t help but not pay attention to it - or the fact that he’ll probably blow up her phone within seconds of arriving at the country club.

and her prediction was right, once she’s already rushed into her house, took off her cute checkered dress, white sweater and uggs that rafe had bought her, her phone was blowing up with messages from rafe, but she knew his friends were right, she’s soft… she’s holding rafe back, and now she knows.

from ; my hunter🤍

i’m here baby.

i ordered you that red drink with the cherry and red shit.

don’t remember what it’s called lmfao.

where are you?

???

hello?

bambi?

where are you bambi?

seen just now

she watches with ease as the texts bombard her phone, yet she clicks the electronic closed, leaving rafe worried that something had happened to her on the drive to the country club. but she doesn’t really care, she wants to be left in her solitude with her tears.

bambi is sleeping peacefully when shes suddenly awoken by a warm pair of hands rubbing at her back, but she doesn’t move an inch - who the hell is inside of her house? “bambi? there you are kid,” oh, she recognizes the voice — it’s her favorite if she’s gonna be honest, rafe.

“hm..” she hums softly, “where the hell have you been bambi? was waitin’ for you.” he slides into the bed, even after she shrugs her shoulders “what’s goin’ on with you bambi?” - she doesn’t have an answer for him, which makes her feel sick to her stomach — she wants to tell him, she really does, but she just can’t find the words.

“i’m not good enough for you… i-im…” that sentence alone makes rafes heart quiver, “what the — the hell are you talkin’ about bambi? why the fuck are you sayin’ that shit?” he grabs her chin, forcing her eyes on his blues - and he feels absolutely defeated when he sees the red, puffy doe eyes that add to her features.

“i heard some boys at the country club talking… t-the guys you play golf with that one night…” rafe already knew where this was going, and he wasn’t happy about it.

at all.

“and they said that i made you soft… and that my pussy must be magical and that’s the only reason you’re with me…” his heart shatters into a zillion little pieces when the words leave her words, how could anyone ever say that about her? someone so sweet, and caring? “that’s… that’s not true baby, you know that.”

“i don’t rafe… they’re right — im not like the girls you’ve had before, they’re more..confident, a-and pretty. i’m just… me.” rafe is holding every physical bone in his body not to storm over to the country club and beat them all to a pulp. “listen to me bambi.” he takes her face in his hands, his signet ring cold against her skin - but she doesn’t seem to care when he’s looking at her like she’s the only girl in his eyes (she is.)

“you’re everything i want honey, i never would’ve talked to you if i didn’t think you were interesting, i love you, you. not any of the other girls before you. you’re perfect bambi, and i won’t let anyone tell you otherwise. and yeah, they’re right — that pussy is magical.”

“rafey! don’t say it like that!” she slaps his chest as they both laugh together - peace, they’re at peace. “wait…” she pauses, looking up at rafe once he pulls her into his lap, “you… you love me?” rafe simply looks up at her, leaning forward to kiss at her neck softly, “yeah bambi, i love you.”

“so does that mean… i’m your girlfriend?” rafe is confused for a minute, “i thought we were already dating bambi.”

a beat of silence rains over the two.

“you never asked me rafey! how was i supposed to know!” her well manicured nails, courtesy of rafe - scratching at the back of his head, she loves rafe, a lot.. and up until this moment, she was completely under the impression that they weren’t in a relationship..

although they do, do a lot of couple things… like rafe decorating the passenger seat of his truck to bambi’s liking, or — or whenever she’s cramping, he brings her a strawberry milkshake from the shady diner in the cut that he absolutely hates going to, but for his bambi - he’ll walk to hell and back if she asked.

so… maybe she did kinda know.. but that’s not the point!

“fine then bambi, will you make me the happiest and luckiest man alive and be my girl?” for a moment, there’s a beat of silence between the two, before bambi is suddenly crying. “shit baby - didn’t mean to make ya cry angel face.” of course, he’s quick to wipe the tears and catch her lips in his, loving the feeling of her trying to catch up with him.

“yes rafey! yes i’ll be your girlfriend!” she exclaims in between wet kisses, the lock to their newfound relationship —. “good cause i wasn’t takin no for an answer.” he’s quick to lean forward, kissing her plump pink lips with an exaggerated smack “now i can kiss you as boyfriend and girlfriend, no more friendly kisses.” the both smile like innocent children as bambi curls into his side, exhausted with the days she had (she woke up, got her nails done, and then went home and took a nap before going to the country club.)

“go to sleep my bambi, i’ll be right next to you in the morning honey.” he doesn’t even realize she’s already asleep until her nose is gently twitching cutely, a small habit he picked up on over the few months - he absolutely adores it, and he adores her, and now..

it’s time to find the dicks who made his girl cry.

the country club is getting emptier and emptier by the minute as the women getting tipsy with their girlfriends, and the men chugging down beers while golfing exit to return back to their homes in tanneyhill. but rafe, is just getting started.

hes immediately identifying the group of guys who made his bambi cry - some tall, bulky and not hot guys. psshh, this would be easy for him. “sup man.” he says as he approaches the group, placing a hand on one of their shoulders in a super non threatening way. “what’s up rafe! yo pogue, get my friend a drink!” rafe stops the guy; by the name of Jordan before he can call the pogue waitress over.

“nah nah, i’m not here to drink fucker.” rafe licks over his lips, his blood practically bubbling over through his seething anger. “i’m gonna tell you this once and you’re gonna fuckin listen yeah?” rafe says, grabbing jordan by the collar and lifting him right off of his chair. “you ever fuckin talk about my bambi like that again and i’ll sew your mouth shut. she may not be crazy but i am.”

rafe drops the shaking guy right into the glossy tile grounds of the country club, flicking the rest off as he turns away — making sure to whisper a snarky remark under his breath.

and the entire ride back to bambi’s, he can’t help but grin wildly because he knows bambi doesn’t know how truly crazy he is — and how willing he is to kill anyone who crosses her without her even knowing it.

a / n : hello there! i’m sorry for taking such a long leave, i’ve been going through some stuff but this is my apology! i hope you enjoyed this, and ill be getting into more writing!

[akuma-coffee]

Can I request Gojo and walking in on him showering? 🥺

order for anon! gojo x reader request menu

cw: walking in on gojo, nudity, suggestive!

mdni!

shoko’s bathroom doesn’t have a lock.

at first, this bothered you. the fear of being intruded upon would often plague your thoughts, however as time passed and you grew used to this knowledge, you didn’t dwell on it. it wasn’t exactly like you were bathing in her house; it would only be a few minutes spent within those 4 walls before you’d be back in the lounge with the others.

satoru and suguru would frequently joke about walking in on one another to newcomers (nanami's horrified expression when learning of the bathroom’s unusual feature comes to mind), though you were thankful to be past that fear.

it wasn’t until you’d gone to shoko’s apartment alone that the lock would become an issue.

it had been a long day at work. an influx in sightings coupled with the fact their were less sorcerers available meant your missions were growing steadily in difficulty. usually, a grade 1's exorcism would be a quick job for you, though today had been different. an unusual curse of intelligence, one that had been the conductor of a lengthy fight, resulted in a near grievous amount of damage to your body. for the most part you had felt confident, though by the end of it, you weren’t so sure you were going to win. you had, though.

shoko was always ready to patch you up, and just as quickly as you’d released the veil and returned to the school, your injuries were healed.

“just go back to my apartment, take a shower, and we’ll drink tonight.” she held her keys before your face, the metal chiming as one key hit another. opening your mouth slowly you begin to protest, though glancing at her stern expression, you decide to do what the woman says.

“it is friday.” you weren’t sure if the response was to convince yourself or to encourage her but you take her keys nonetheless, leaving medical to venture back to shoko's, not too far away.

your shoes are kicked off at the door, a heavy breath escaping dry lips as you close it behind you, keys strewed into the dish at the entry way. there’s a whirr in your ears and you can’t seem to remember if that’s simply the apartment, or if it’s your headache manifesting into something worse.

shoko’s room is by no means neat, just like the rest of her apartment. there’s papers in here too, stacked on a dresser, and most of her laundry is thrown just shy of the washing basket. thankfully you’re able to find some of the pyjamas she’d mentioned, and a (definitely used) towel. the next stop is the bathroom, handle placed in your palm and pulled down, door pushed open-

in the shower is a figure, pale and tall. you’re faced not with their head, but instead their groin. there’s water on his skin, droplets dripping down wet flesh.

“gonna take a photo?” satoru’s voice rakes through your body, and you jump at the sudden noise. at last, your eyes fly upward to meet his blue ones, your mouth ajar as your fingers clutch at the musty towel in your hand.

you stand for a few more moments to fester in your shock, and much like a deer in headlights, you're faced with the decision to either run or face your own death. at present, your body decides not to run, but to instead crash and burn before the cockiest person known to man. his grin is wide as he stares down at you, a playful glint in his blue eyes.

you’re finally released from your mental prison, heading straight to shoko’s room to slam the door behind you, sitting in front of the wood. with your back against the door you close your eyes, attempting to reach some sort of medatative state with your quick breaths, but one does not come.

instead, you hear footsteps coming toward you, and the door handle above your head rattles.

“go away.” your voice is quiet but you know he hears you, the squeak of metal and clunk of the latch signalling that he had let go. after a few painfully long minutes you decide satoru's left by now - you’re almost sure you hear the quiet droning of the tv, but as you swing the door open you realise how wrong you were.

satoru is not in the lounge but instead stood waiting for you, back to the wall, arms crossed over chest. thankfully, he is now dressed, a black longsleeve and grey sweats with hair still wet and messy.

“done with your tantrum?” he’s already teasing you seconds after you’re faced with him, your face burning hot in embarrassment.

“i was just in shock.” your voice is low.

“ah, long enough to get a good look?” there’s a sneer to his tone that you don’t appreciate.

“it was an accident - i don’t know what you want me to say. sorry?” you huff, hurrying past him as there's a clatter at the front door, and it opens to reveal shoko.

“you didn’t say satoru was gonna be here.” she doesn’t have a chance to take her shoes off before you're greeting her with your annoyance. she smells like cigarettes, and the bags under her eyes hang low. they’re purple, and etched into her skin as every other imperfection, mole, and freckle.

“satoru’s here?” she rolls her eyes. “well, that’s news to me.”

“she’s just mad because she walked in on me showering-“

“shut up satoru-“

“and stared at my naked body with awe.” the back of his hand flies to the top of his head for dramatic effect, and shoko’s brow raises. she doesn’t speak for a few seconds, glancing between your sheepish frown and his grin before finally sighing, the pack of cigarettes you hadn’t noticed until now being opened, and one placed between her lips.

“right.” she walks past the pair of you to the lounge, on route to her usual perch over the balcony for yet another smoke.

you whip round in annoyance, scowl ever present over your face as you look to satoru. even with him fully dressed and radiating confidence in an annoyingly childish manner, you still feel your stomach twist, flashbacks echoing over your eyes.

“stop with that, it’s embarrassing okay?” your final hope is honesty, a last ditch effort to save yourself from the white mop of hair. he's at the very least a sadist, but you hope that deep down he might care for your feelings, and perhaps will refrain from clout chasing if your emotional state were to be at risk.

“stop with what?” satoru’s teasing makes you doubt your initial thought process.

“please.” you look at him with your heart on your sleeve now, practically on your hands and knees. “don’t tell anyone else.”

satoru’s face softens, only for a second but you swear you see it; his brow gently raising and the curve of his lips falling to no longer crease at the edges, but all hope is immediately lost as the smile returns only as quickly as it had dampened.

“what if we break even?”

“satoru…”

“you saw me, i’ll see you, then you won’t have a one up on me.” it feels like he's wearing a snarl as his teeth peak through his lips, much like a beast hunting it’s prey. it certainly feels like that, your concerned gaze captured in his jaw.

“you’re the one with the step up, not me.” you sigh, but for some reason your heart is racing. he’s relentless, you know that, and the curious part of you wants to entertain his idea.

“fine.” without second thought, you grab ahold of his wrist, tugging at the lanky limb to bring him toward the bathroom, pulling him into the doorway and slamming it behind him before you’d had a chance to release the breath caught in your chest.

you pulled the loose t-shirt over your head (one of shoko’s old band tees) and threw it to the floor. the trousers were next, drawstrings tugged apart and elastic waistband dropped to ankle.

by the time you had stripped off, satoru’s expression had dropped, face displaying a genuine state of surprise that you swear you’ve never seen before now.

the trousers are tugged up, t-shirt pulled back over your head, and satoru is still stood in the same position, mouth still ajar. you momentarily pause to say something before escaping, only when your eyes were lost in his, nothing comes to mind. instead, you choose to flee the awkward air and relieve the tension set heavy in your chest, slipping through the exit and running straight to find shoko. she is only just coming through the balcony door.

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” shoko speaks and you’re a little startled, though as you start to reply in confusion, you feel an arm drape over your shoulder, pulling you toward his torso.

“nah, we were just chatting.” you breathe deeply beside him, trying to maintain your poise. there’s a little bit of nausea rising through you as the weight of your actions set in.

shoko doesn’t look convinced but doesn’t push either, simply throwing herself on the couch, still dressed in the turtleneck and chinos she’d been sporting beneath her coat.

“well, you can keep one another company while i go to the store. we’re out of beer, who would’ve guessed.” she points her finger between yourself and satoru, who is now sitting down beside the brunette.

“maybe you need to stop inviting us over to drown our sorrows.” you joke lightly and shoko rolls her eyes.

“what do you expect if you ask me for help?” she places both hands on each leg, standing. “don’t kill each other,” she’s by the lounge door, putting her jacket over her shoulders and pulling her hair from the back of it. “or do, i don’t care.”

this was longer than i had initially planned but oh well! thank you anon, please send more requests! this was so much fun.

[mullet-mother]

Eaten, Stuffed, or Mounted?

My first oneshot - ever

TW: Smut below the cut, MINORS DNI

I have a fun tidbit of information for you.

Did you know that when you crash your car the radio doesn’t stop playing?I was made aware of that lovely fun fact after swerving to avoid that damn deer. 

I finally got my ass out of the house for the first time in months after persistent pestering and coaching from my friends to go to their New Years party. I wouldn’t say I was excited, but I was trying to be—hence the obnoxiously loud music blasting through my car’s speakers. I shouldn’t have taken that curve so fast—the visibility was absolute garbage with the snow. The animal jumped out so quickly; I reacted instinctively, and the black ice spun my wheels when I tried to avoid flattening the buck, sending me careening into the trees on the embankment. As I said before, the radio doesn’t stop playing when you crash. I hadn’t considered that my death would consist of me bleeding to death by myself on the side of the road with the speakers blaring ‘Party Rock Anthem’.

What a ridiculous celestial discharge.

When I opened my eyes, I was most certainly not in Kansas anymore. My eyes and nose were not prepared for the onslaught of stimulus they received. It was so, so red. The smell of rust and sulfur stung my nose and eyes. The sounds of screaming also did not help the overwhelming feeling of dread I started to experience. 

While I wasn’t particularly shocked that I ended up in hell, this was also not what I had expected. So many religions have their own versions, most commonly the lake of fire and brimstone. I was not expecting the burning city, dead bodies littering the streets, porn on every billboard, and the twisted and exotic forms of the…residents. It felt like I had entered the most twisted version of ‘Grand Theft Auto’ that someone could have conceived. 

It took only seconds for me to snap out of my shock, when I heard a shout in my direction. I scrambled to my feet and cursed, realizing I was in the insufferable heels and dress I decided to wear for the party. This also made me acutely aware of the difference in my body, but at the time I didn’t have the mental capacity to absorb what had changed, but the heels I wore made the hooves I now had nye-impossible to stand.   A large bear of a man—quite literally—was approaching me with a grin that made my hair stand on end. 

“Going somewhere all dressed up like that by yourself? Or are you just out to get fucked and your cute little tail pulled?” His disgusting maw was drooling and it had nearly made me gag.

It was made apparent that even in death I had no sense of self preservation. 

“Go fuck yourself, you rip-off build-a-bear fuck stain!”

It had slipped out of my mouth faster than I could react, and our big furry friend was not pleased. 

The growls that left his chest and the elongating teeth were not comforting. “You. Fucking. Cunt. I wanted to fuck you, but now I’ve got something else in mind.” His mouth seemed to grow wider, but it was the change in smile on his face that made me bolt so fast I nearly got whiplash as I kicked my way out of those god-awful heels.

I don’t think I’ve ever run so fast before, my hair whipped by my face, my legs burned, and the acrid air stung my lungs with each breath I gulped into my body. I heard him behind me, snarling, screams of other demons, and curses as he barreled them over in his pursuit. I leapt over bodies and pools of blood; I couldn’t remember ever having the ability to run like that. In hindsight, deer can be fucking quick.  I could feel him getting closer and made a sharp turn around a corner in hopes to lose him. 

I landed face first into what felt like a designer pillow. I looked up slowly as a pair of slender arms grabbed my waist to steady me. Mismatched eyes looked down at me with a face of shock, which promptly shifted to confused. I gaped up at the demon in surprise. His confusion shifted to a dazzling smile with a shiny gold tooth. He tried to speak but was quickly interrupted.

“Y’know I usually charg-”

“Please help me; I’m being chased; he’s going to kill me; please help me!”

The tears began to stream down my face before I could stop them, and I began to violently shake.  I don’t know if it was the adrenaline or the fact that I hadn’t had a chance to even absorb my current situation, but I threw every ounce of trust into the stranger that had caught me. 

The demon’s eyes hardened and the smile dropped to a grimace. His arms tightened around my waist, and he quickly ushered me into a limo waiting down the sidewalk. 

He sat me down next to him and turned to look at me. The dazzling smile that he had before returned to his face. He slung his arm around me and pulled me right back up to the fluff on his chest.

“ Nice to meetcha; I’m Angel.”

Angel brought me to the hotel with him, but it was Charlie who insisted that I stay. While I wasn’t necessarily interested in redemption, Charlie was kind, and well…free rent. I was quickly introduced to the rest of the hotel, and became integrated rather quickly. I tried to help where I could, and soon joined the flow of cleaning, cooking, and helping to maintain the state of the hotel. I felt comfortable with the seemingly found family, including a certain Strawberry Pimp.

It was a shock after settling into my body with its new modifications. That fucking deer gave me a lovely parting gift on top of sending me into that tree. While my tattoos were still in their rightful place, the rest of my skin had faded to an off white, almost grey. Hazel eyes shifted to a black sclera and lavender iris. I gained soft ears and an unruly tail spotted with the same rainbow highlighting my black hair. The hooves were definitely an adjustment, no more pedicures for me unfortunately. 

That was six months ago.

Angel became my best friend within hours, we began spending our nights watching TV dramas and bothering Husk at the bar. He also started to pick up on my attraction for the buck in the hotel. I couldn’t deny my interest, but I most certainly pretended to unless it was in the confines of Angel’s room at 4 AM after copious amounts of alcohol. But that’s all it was, attraction.

Alastor and I started out with a friendly disposition; we weren’t friends per-se but we bantered and laughed at ridiculous jokes when in the same company.

That devolved into sarcastic quips and jabs, hiding coffee cups, and constantly trying to get a rise out of each other.

It started when he refused to change the radio station. While I enjoy jazz and the classics as much as anyone—I need variety. “Alastor, please. I have asked you THRICE now—and very nicely I might add—to change the station to something else.”

He continued to ignore me and hum along to the song currently playing and it was starting to really, piss me off. 

“Peepaw, I understand that you’re always reliving your ‘golden years—I get it! But if I have to listen to one more grainy, barely audible man groan about how he’s lonely, I might lose my mind.” 

“My dear, I understand your lack of appreciation for culture and class, but I will not be changing this station. End of discussion.” 

The fucker had the audacity to smirk at me. 

“Class? I’ll show you class, you audacious, virgin,  fuckboy!” 

The radio began to whirl with the changing of stations, moving back and forth—glowing the same purple as my eyes. Then suddenly it stopped, and the most obscene music I could possibly think of began to blare from the radio. A classic - CPR by CupcakKE;

Want your dick soaked? Place it down my throat

Tongue tickle yo' dick but not telling a joke

Peddle in this pussy that's how you rock a boat

It get live in this pussy, I'm not talking Periscope

“What in the fresh hell is that?”

The disgust on his face was absolutely priceless. He demanded that I turn it off, change it. He tried to switch it back himself, but I very clearly said;

“My dear, I understand your lack of appreciation for culture and class, but I will not be changing this station. End of discussion.”

I then began changing the station whenever I damn well pleased. He got one request to change it and if he fought me on it I would put on my most devious hits, all outrageously filthy. This turned our little friendship to a sparring match. 

Husker thus named me the resident ‘shit-disturber’, and ‘almost worse than him’. Both him and Vaggie were absolutely convinced I had a death wish. 

That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. I just loved seeing his ears flatten out and his smile strain. During my inquiry into whether or not he bleats after the discovery that I have my own (albeit embarrassing) squeak, I thought his head was going to pop off with the crack from his neck. The radio-static was so loud I had to cover my ears—and it was so satisfying.

Angel teased me relentlessly and told me he ‘can’t stand the sexual tension’, which I denied vehemently, as much as I might have wished there was. While he and I constantly teased each other he was always a gentleman regardless. I also found the tall, dark, and creepy vibe rather sexy, but I’d settle for imagining that there’s sexual tension and pushing his buttons.

Which is exactly what I’m going to do today during breakfast. 

As I come down into the dining area everyone is conversing amicably, Alastor looks content, casually sipping his coffee at the head of the table. Unfortunately for him, I had the most delightful thought last night, and I have been impatiently waiting to make it known to the group.

I quietly go to the kitchen and make my iced coffee; the excitement building in my chest. As I go to sit down I can feel the smile on my face spreading even wider.

“Good Morning Everyone!” They all turn their attention in my direction and the strangeness of my enthusiasm. I am usually…unpleasant if I’m out of bed before 10 AM, but I don’t believe anything could ruin my mood today; I could barely sleep with the anticipation of what’s about to transpire.

Alastor looks over his mug in my direction and it’s clear that he is suspicious of my jovial mood—and he should be.

“Alastor! As I was falling asleep last night I was thinking about Vox.”He inhales a sharp breath, and a new rush of excitement wiggles its way up my spine. “ His silly bit about you being venison or cooking you? I just think it’s ridiculous! You’re far too lean.”

Husk sits across from me with a look of abject horror on his face, and I can only continue with unbridled glee.“I mean, can you imagine? Deer are already gamey—with your figure, it would be far too tough to eat!”

The sound of his grip tightening on his cup and the beginnings of crackles in the air only furthers my resolve. 

He responds with clenched teeth and a static filled voice. “Is that so, little doe?”

I nod my head with a determined look on my face - seriousness overcoming my smile. “In my humble opinion yes; I think it would be better to mount you on the wall instead. I’m personally a huge fan of taxidermy.”

Alastor is barely containing his rage at this point when he asks me;

“Maybe we should eat you instead, you’re obviously the better choice on the menu with your proportions, or would you rather be stuffed and mounted on the wall instead, hm?” 

I paint an innocent smile on my face and finish the rest of my coffee out of my cup, making sure to slurp as obnoxiously as I can. I smack my lips and stand up from the table.

“Alastor, I want you to take one good look at this fat ass and tell me if it looks like I give a fuck whether I’m eaten or stuffed.” 

For a moment there is only silence,

A quick look around continues to feed my giddiness. There are looks of horror on Charlie and Husk’s faces; Angel and Vaggie trying desperately not to choke; finally my gaze falls on the man of the hour.

I don’t know if I have ever made him so incredibly mad. His face is red, teeth clenched, smile stretched to its limits. His antlers are slowly growing larger, eyes flickering to radio dials, his body getting larger. The sound of radio static and crackling is nearing uncomfortable levels. 

“Thanks for the lovely breakfast everyone! See you later for group activities.”

As I walk away, I can hear the sound of a mug shattering. On the way back to my room, I am nearly vibrating. The satisfaction of getting such a visceral reaction from both Alastor and the rest of the group was exquisite. ‘Resident shit disturber’ indeed. I’m not naive enough to believe I won’t face extreme retaliation, but I’m ninety percent sure he won’t kill me. 

The rest of the day goes as usual, and I see very little of Alastor. While I’m still riding the high of this morning, I begin to get nervous. He doesn’t attend any group activities, and while that isn’t too far from the norm, it still has my nerves on edge. By the end of the day I’m ready to crawl into bed, get off, and sleep until noon. 

I make it back to my room and slip inside when I hear the door lock behind me and the shadows in the room rising.

I am so, so fucked.

A squeak leaves my mouth when I feel myself dropping into what feels like nothing before landing roughly onto a carpeted floor. I lift my head and see a fireplace, small table, and the open expanse of what appears to be a bayou. The overwhelming feeling of both dread and excitement shoots through my body as I realize exactly where I am. 

I attempt to get up to my feet, but am forced to stay on my knees by the large clawed hands squeezing my shoulders. Alastor is bent at the waist; he’s larger than normal, with a strained smile and antlers out; his clear red eyes are the only clue to his dwindling self control. He puts his face directly in front of mine and my skin prickles from the static. 

“Hello little doe, are you pleased with your lovely little performance at breakfast?” 

“Were you not? I thought it was excellent.” 

“Why are you so intent on being a vexing little Brat?” He loses his static the moment he says ‘brat’. A clear voice filled with true frustration. 

The sound of his voice causes my cunt to slick and my body heat to rise. My cheeks flush in embarrassment, and for once in my life, I have no response. I just continue to stare into the glowing red eyes that are searching mine for some semblance of an answer. Maybe Angel was right and it was sexual tension?

His right hand comes to wrap around my throat; his left finds my hip as he guides me up off of the floor. I’m now standing in front of him, having to crane my neck to look up into his eyes, his size dwarfing mine. I can feel my breathing getting heavier and my slick soaking through the fabric of my panties.

“Tell me, What would you prefer? Being stuffed, eaten, or mounted on the wall?” His eyes narrow as he squeezes the hand around my throat, and my mouth goes dry. I try to think of a proper response, but my brain is fogged with his eyes, his cologne, and the heat consuming every inch of my body. 

All I can do is close my eyes, whimper and lean into the hand around my throat. I feel him squeeze, and I know he’s demanding an answer. I look up at him, and I can feel the tears gathering in my eyes; I can feel my heart pounding in my chest in anticipation. 

“Anything Al; whatever you want.”

I feel a tongue slide up my cheek; he groans deeply, and I can feel his claws digging into my hip. His lips hover over mine and I move to close the distance but his hands stop me. He moves his hands to my cheeks and squeezes them together, my mouth popping open.

“Open your eyes, doe; look at me. You will get whatever I deem to give you. You will not cum unless I say so, you will beg for release and will not get it until I deem you worthy of such pleasures after your abhorrent behavior. Are we clear, Brat?” 

I let out a soft moan as a response.

His smile widens and a soft phrase leaves his lips that turns me to mush. “Good girl.”

Another fall into nothingness, and my back is on soft sheets, any clothing I had gone. He’s standing at the end of the bed, studying my naked body and I’m suddenly shy being so exposed. I move to cover myself when I see the thick black

Tentacles surge from behind him to grab and trap my arms and legs. My arms are pulled above my head, my knees bent, and legs spread. The hungry look on his face has me blushing and closing my eyes, which fly back open when I feel his long wet tongue slip through my folds. It pulls a high pitched moan from my throat and a groan from him.

“Maybe I should just eat you, little brat, keep you tied to this bed just for me.”

He continues to slowly lick and suck on my clit, just enough to bring me close to the edge, only to switch techniques and rip me away from it again, fucking me with his tongue, swirling it around my clit slowly, flat tongued laps through my folds. Tears prick at the edge of my eyes before I start begging.

“Al, Al, please; I can’t take it anymore; please let me cum. I need it; please, I’m begging you!”

He just continues with a torturous pace and keeps his smile in place. 

“Fuck me; stuff me; I don’t care, please! I need to cum; I need it, please!”

He stops and brings his face to mine, a smirk there, his lips shining. “I want a nice, sincere apology from you, Brat. For your atrocious performance and disrespect today.” 

“I’m so, so sorry Al; I promise I won’t ever do it again; I’ll be so good for you. Please let me cum; please fuck me; I’ll be good!”

As soon as I finish, his lips are on mine; they’re soft and bruising. This kiss is tongue and teeth and months of repressed sexual desires. My hands are suddenly released, and I’m instantly ripping at his shirt and pants. My hands can’t move fast enough. My mind is spinning, and my body is aching with need. 

I finally feel his length hot and heavy on my cunt; it slides easily through my soaking folds and we both moan at the contact. He opens his eyes and looks into mine, always the gentleman. “I  need to hear a yes, darling,” he moves his mouth down to my neck; I can feel his teeth gently scraping against my skin. 

The softness of the question makes my heart swell in my chest, “Please, yes, Al; I need you.”

With one rough thrust, he stretches and fills me, his hips flush against mine. I’m so unbelievably full, his tip pressing and pushing against my cervix. He slowly pulls out, dragging his cock against my oversensitive walls before roughly thrusting back inside. I can feel myself gushing around him with each rough thrust in, soaking my and his thighs.

I’m babbling and crying out his name over and over. Begging him for more.“Please make me cum, Alastor; I want to cum all over your cock; I want to feel you cum inside me; I’m begging you!” My eyes are glassy and staring into his own.

He picks up his speed, ramming himself in and out of me roughly. He brings a claw down to press and circle my clit, then gently kisses my lips and whispers into my ear, “You’ve been so patient, little doe; such a good girl. Cum for me.”

One hard thrust, and a scream is ripping through my throat as hot thrumming pleasure surges through my body; I can feel my heartbeat in every cell of my body. Before I have time to recover, he continues his brutal pace, “One more, darling. I need you to give me one more.”

“I can’t; it’s too much I can’t!”

“You can; cum with me. I need to feel you milking my cock.”

He tilts my hips, and the position has him hitting that spot inside me over and over again. I can feel the tingling heat starting to grow in my abdomen once more. I tell him I’m getting close, and he doubles his efforts. Sweat drips down his forehead; I can feel his cock getting hotter inside me. He grabs my knees and pushes them to my chest, bending me in half. The position sends his cock even deeper inside me. 

I’m screaming his name, no doubt the entire hotel hearing my cries of absolute bliss. His thumb returns to my clit and presses down firmly, rubbing those perfect circles. With his mouth by my shoulder, he commands me again,“Cum with me, now.”The moment I feel him spilling his hot seed inside me and his teeth in my shoulder, another orgasm sends electric waves through my body.

I slowly come back down and open my eyes; he’s back to his regular self, seemingly relaxed. 

“Hey Alastor, I have a question.”

“And what is that, little doe?”

-“Do I just have to get you really pissed and you’ll fuck me like that again?” 

Thank you so much to the-demon-of-a-thousand-eyes for editing for me! You're amazing!

[bunniesanddeer]

Hate (Alastor x Reader)

Hey, awkward haha. This is only my second attempt at smut, inspired by the lovely @hazelfoureyes. (If you want me to untag you, I totally will).

Obviously minors, DNI.

I'm normally not comfortable with this stuff, mostly because I don't have a ton of experience writing it. I decided, that for practice, I would try writing something where the reader doesn't like Alastor. I figured a dynamic that was different from what I normally wrote might help me learn how to get better at writing smut. So here is something inspired by the best smut writer, about a dynamic I've never written :) Also, my first time writing PiV, so sorry if it sucks :) be gentle with me, lol

Hate

Pairing: Alastor X Reader

Warnings: Reader HATES Alastor, Enemies to enemies with benefits, heat, smut, 18+, Alastor speaks French, praise kink, fingers, PIV.

Word Count: 3,818

You could feel it building. The heat rising and coursing through every inch of you. The way it settled in your core, at the pit of your belly. The twinge and ache in your chest. The pressure behind your eyes. The delirium in which you processed it. It was as much as you could take, and you could feel the tension building.

You hated him. You hated him with every inch of yourself. It was a hate that suffused your bones, that dripped through clenched teeth, and twitched tightly gripped hands. You hated him entirely. It wasn’t just the way he talked, although the pompous air and the two-faced words he spoke with angered you to no end. It wasn’t the way he dressed, despite the fact that it was an out of style suit that he preferred, that pissed you off at even a glance. You knew it wasn’t the way he looked, because as much as you hated the sight of him, he was an admittedly handsome demon and had likely been a handsome man; he had dark skin, and fluffy red hair that framed his sharp face nicely. No, it was something deep inside, that you couldn’t quite explain, that made you despise him so, so much.

Alastor was not a good man. No, it wasn’t exactly the best way to judge those that were already in Hell, but among the many denizens you’ve met, he was surely high on the list of fucked up crimes. Sure, he claimed he had a moral code that he strictly followed, but if no one knew what it was, what the hell was it good for? Maybe it was his hypocrisy. The way he held himself and looked at others with such disdain, and yet he was just as lowly and weak and corrupted as everyone else.

Alastor was a hypocrite, for sure, but maybe so were you. How else could you explain this? Who were you to judge him, for all his faults, when yours were staring you in the face? 

Your thighs ached. You could feel the pain growing, and you knew it would only get worse. You had been around him long enough now, that the cursed body you had been gifted had caught on, and now you would suffer for something you never agreed to. 

It hadn’t even been a thought, when you moved into the hotel. You hadn’t thought about the fact that your form and his might affect one another. How were you supposed to know it was a possibility when you’d never run across another deer demon, let alone a Buck? Hell, quite frankly, hell. Each new, fucked up thing, you found brought you greater misery. Now your own body was a prison. You’d take having periods again, if it meant you didn’t have this terrible thing.

When it had first started, only days before, you had sought out Angel Dust, who had laughed at you. 

“Ha! Are you pulling my chain, toots?” He had asked, his tone filled with bewilderment. “C’mon, you gotta know! You’ve been here for years!”

But you didn’t know, and when he caught the anxious look growing on your face, and the fidgeting of your hands, he sighed. 

“Shit, ya don’t know, do ya?” Angel put one of his many arms around your shoulders, and guided you to his room. He settled you on a plush bean bag, and offered you something to drink. You shook your head, anxiety making your face tingle. “Suit yourself, babes.” He sighed, and scratched the back of his head. “It’s called heat. Some folks don’t got one, some do frequently, and some are seasonal. For folks who got it seasonally, it tends to, uh, depend on whether or not ya got someone, you know, compatible.”

You cocked your head as you scratched and pulled at a stray thread on your pants. 

“You gotta find someone with a similar build to yours. If you ain’t ever seen another deer, it might be why it hasn’t come up, babes.” His words clicked in your head, and your face paled. 

“No,” you said, chest frozen at the thought. It hurt suddenly. Your hands tingled, and your chest hurt. What was happening? “No, no, no. Absolutely not, please tell me it’s not because-”

Angel winced, and gave you a pitying look. “Yeah, it’s cuz of Al, doll.”

You gasped for breath, and you shook. You couldn’t think clearly. Everyone knew how much you and Alastor hated each other. You made it clear, and his constant badgering and rude behavior seemed to solidify it for everyone that it was mutual. But for your body to betray you, for him? This felt like the ultimate Hell.

When you started crying, Angel had soothed you to the best of his ability. The next morning, after falling asleep in Angel’s many arms, he gave you an unopened toy, and told you to gather supplies. Enough to hoard up in your room for a few days. He promised to run interference for you, and sent you on your way. 

So here you were, writhing on your bed, on day three. Your sense of smell was increased, and your ears twitched at each subtle sound in the hall. You had tried putting on some mindless show so you could stop focusing on all these extra sensations, but it didn’t help. The extra voices, all not his, sent your head spinning. You had turned it off after only half-an-hour. 

Your thighs rubbed together, and sweat dripped down the back of your neck. You pushed your face into a pillow and groaned. You had avoided it thus far, but it might be time to break out the little vibrator. 

Eventually, you sat up in your bed, ignoring the blankets that you had pushed to the floor the day before. You huffed, and reached for the toy that had been plugged in the night before. You gave the strange pink toy a squeeze, the soft silicone giving just slightly, and made your way to the bathroom. While you washed the toy, you tried to convince yourself that this was all you needed. One good vibe session, and you’d be back to normal. You were wrong.

It was hot. The whole room was unbearably hot. You were covered in a thin layer of sweat, and your clothes had long found themselves on the floor. You had needed to recharge the toy one already, and it had only been a day. The water in the shower couldn’t get cold enough to cool you down. Your core ached, constantly, and your thighs had a near constant mess of slick spread along them. You were delirious with the unfathomable sensations you had been unwillingly wrapped in. 

With a cry, and your soaked fingers at your clit, you orgasmed, weakly. The release wasn’t nearly enough. You twisted, and bit down on your pillow as you cried, just a little. This was terrible. And all because of Alastor. You thought of his nasty jokes, and how cruel he could be. You thought on sharp eyes, and sharper smiles. You thought of his claws, and a soft grasp around your throat, slowly tightening as a normally clear voice grunted and huffed. You pulled your vibrator out again. With something in you snapping, you kept thinking of his slim hips, and broad chest. The way his hands twitched and grasped at his microphone. His leer and the way his eyes followed you when you walked into the room. His laugh, when he was angry with someone. The way he had shown you to handle a weapon before you fought the angels. The angry look he gave you when you yelled at him weeks later. You thought of his hands wrapping around your wrist, and his chest hovering over your back as lithe hips pressed against your ass. 

You came with another cry, the white-hot feeling surging through you. 

Shame filled you up. You were a hypocrite too, it seemed. 

It was dark. Your head was fuzzy, and you couldn’t place the time of day. You sat up, the room spinning as your heart settled. Something smelled good. Your eyes fluttered as you took it in. After a moment, you flicked your eyes around the room, and in the chair by the window was a figure. 

You screeched. It wasn’t terribly loudly, but it made the figure twitch. You dove to the lamp by your beside, and quickly flicked it on. As the warm light filled the room, it flashed across his eyes, and the look alone made you gasp.

“Alastor?” You whispered. What the fuck was he doing in your room?

“Oh, ma bichette.” His voice was rougher than normal, something dark tinging it. 

“What the fuck are you doing in my room, Alastor?” Despite the yearning in the pit of your belly, and the aching you had suffered through for days, this was beyond not okay. Alarm bells were ringing in the back of your head, and you couldn’t fathom why he would break into your room.

“Oh, ma chérie. I have felt that burn for days, and in your absence it grew worse.” His head cocked, and his eyes flashed in the light again. His hair looked strange, as if it was nearly damp. Something in his smile was unhinged. Your chest tugged and ached, and you had to fight to focus through the tingling in your fingers. “I could smell you, and this ache, this hunger I have never known, only grew worse.”

He stood from the chair, and you leaned back on your hands, ready to twist and run if you needed to. His tall form drew your gaze up his shape. Your mind struggled to focus on any one thing, and it was hard to hold onto your anger, like this. 

“It is impolite, to come in like this, but I need. And I can tell you do too.” He walked towards you, and leaned over you. Your conflicting feelings about the situation caused you to hesitate. You leaned back, your back meeting your sheets, and your knees bent, as if your legs could stop him from advancing. You were right, in that they would not, because a moment later, he was crawling over you, forearms flat on either side of your head. “I will leave if you ask it of me, my dear. But I ask that you let me pleasure you,” he whispered to you. His sharp teeth clacked as he glanced over your form. “Let me relieve us of this.” 

One of his hands brushed some of your damp hair from your forehead, and the look on his face nearly flat lined you. He looked so strange. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was. His eyes were soft and gazing at you with some unknown feeling gleaming in them. His mouth was slanted, and his teeth glittering in the low light — Your train of thought halted as you realized he wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t smiling. What the fuck? What could have done that? Your eyes widened, and you could only stare as his thumb strayed to your lips and tugged at the bottom lip. 

“What do you say, my dear?” His gaze caught yours, and you could barely breathe.

“I hate you,” you said. “I hate you, especially for this.”

Something flickered across his face, but he didn’t pull away. “I know, mon cœur. You have many reasons, but this isn’t about that. I merely wish to ease our suffering. Your suffering.”

You wanted to cry. How fucking dare he? How dare he be so terrible on a daily basis, and yet so kind now? You wanted to scream. You could feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. It felt so unfair. But you were desperate, and he was offering to touch you, something he didn’t like to do. You knew his reputation, his dislike and disregard for things of a sexual nature, and yet here he was, crossing that boundary with you. (Something in you hurt, knowing that someone who hated him would be crossing that line with him, not someone who loved him or cared for him in any capacity. Maybe that was his Hell). 

“Fine. Fuck. Fine. We can fuck, just, I don’t know. No kissing. And I uh, I’d like to be on my belly.” You didn’t want to look at him. (You knew it was the thought of him that got you off so many times, but the idea of really seeing him, bothered you in a way you couldn’t explain). His face twitched, but he nodded. 

“I understand, ma bichette.” He pet your hair, again, and rubbed a thumb across your forehead, and he took a deep breath in. “Alright, dear, ass up.”

Your eyes widened, and you gulped down the little moisture in your mouth. With deep, steady breaths, you turned over, maneuvering on the bed with twitching limbs. You pressed your chest against the bed, aching at the tenderness in your breasts. Your hands held onto the sheets tightly, and your ears twitched and pressed flat against your skull. Your tail sprung straight, and you could hear Alastor let out a breathy chuckle. The sound of clasps and zippers coming undone made your tail wag, and you could feel one of his hands swat at the fluffy bundle of fur at the base of your spine. 

“Excited, dearest?” His voice carried in the quiet room. You couldn’t reply with words. You were so conflicted. You hated him acutely, and yet here you were. Something akin to giddiness was building in your chest. Your tail wagged harder. You hoped he didn’t take it as an answer. 

You could feel his warm body lean over yours a moment later. He was so much bigger than you. It was clear with how wide his shoulders were, and how his long legs cradled yours easily. One of his forearms settled beside yours, and his face rested in the crux of your shoulder. Sharp teeth lightly grazed the skin there, while hot breath fanned over your back. Soft touches on the swell of your ass, creeping over your hip, and then cupping your mound softly. (How could he be so soft in this, and yet so harsh? Your mind was buzzing so loud). 

“Stop thinking, mon trésor.” His finger grazed your clit, and your mind went quiet. Oh, you had forgotten what it was like being touched by someone else. 

His fingers moved with focus from there, and your legs twitched. You huffed, and closed your eyes, letting the sensations fall over you. Soon, with the gentle touches getting firmer, and more precise, your thighs were getting slick. Small sounds left your clenched teeth. (It felt good, but the petty part of you wanted to deprive him of the satisfaction of your noises). 

Alastor’s hand moved, and suddenly one finger was sinking into your heat. You groaned, and your back arched. 

“Oh, continuer ma chère. Je veux vous entendre.” His voice is coarse, but his finger curls, and you can’t even try and translate his whispered words. Your body trembles as he slips in a second finger. His thumb catches your clit, and your mind is a muddled mess. Your resolve to remain silent shatters, and your voice leaves your throat with no control. 

“Oh, Alastor,” you say. Your eyes flutter, and you clench down on his fingers. He grunts, and thrusts them a little harder. 

“When you are ready, my dear, come for me. And then we can move on to the main event.” His words attempt for nonchalance, but the way he struggles to get them out has you internally laughing. It stops when his erection, clear as day, rubs against your ass. Your hips twitch, pressing against him. “Oh,” he grunts. “Not yet dear.”

He twists his hand, and presses his chest against your back. His hand on the bed grabs at yours, and he intertwines your fingers. Teeth scratch at your shoulder, and the sudden flood of sensory information sends you over a line you didn’t know you were near. 

“Ah! Alastor,” You cry, and fire flicker up your core, and in your veins. You clench hard on his fingers, and his ever present static swells in response. (Although, with how much your hands and face tingle, it could be in your head). 

“Oh, yes.” His head settles against your shoulder blade, and his hand slowly pulls from your core. His wet fingers graze your hip with soft touches, and the hand holding yours rubs softly. “So good for me, dearest. My doe. So good.”

Your chest aches, and you want to cry. How fucking dare he hit the fucking nail on the head? Your breath hitches, and you have to work to not cry. 

“Oh, my dear.” He sits up, and the loss of his heat nearly makes your tears fall. You can’t fathom why you’re suddenly emotional, but it won’t waver in its intensity. His face settles in your sight line. “Are you alright, dear?” His lets go of yours, and cradles the back of your head. “Did I hurt you?”

You want to cry. Fuck him. Fuck this. How dare he. A tear slips before you can stop it, and his eyes narrow, something nearly concerned looking, crossing his expression. 

“No. Fuck you. I hate you,” you can barely finish the sentence before a hint of a sob leaves you. “I hate you. I hate you. Just fuck me already.”

His brows furrow, and the red of his eyes glints as he manages a nod. “If that’s what you desire,” he says, and then he’s behind you again. 

His hands are on your hips, and you hear skin against skin, and then he’s gently prodding you with the thick head of his cock. Alastor presses his cock into your soaking entrance slowly, and you worry about his size for a moment. But then, he’s pressing more firmly, and your thoughts halt. Electricity is shooting up your spine as he sinks into you. You internally thank him fro prepping you with his fingers, because he’s packing more than you would have expected. 

A sharp breath from him, and then his hips snap against yours. “Hah, sorry, dearest.” His breaths are rough, and you feel his hands squeeze your hips hard. “I had intended to go slower, but this is-” He bends over you again, and his chest is against your back, and he’s grasping at the sheet with you. “You’re so good, my dear. Better than I could have ever-”

His hips snap again, and your body jolts. You gasp as he presses his hips against your ass, pushing as far he can get. You feel so tight. Everything is hot, and all you can think about is him. Your tail brushes against his belly as he starts to set a rhythm. All the pain you had been in, and you were starting to feel like it might have been worth it. 

One of his hand wraps around your waist, over your breasts, and his hand settles on your neck. “Let me know if you wish me to stop,” he huffs, and then he’s squeezing your throat, just slightly. 

You mewl, and roll your hips against him. “Oh yes. Little doe. You are so good for me.” The way he says makes you moan again, and you huff as he squeezes your throat again. 

The pace he sets is just under what you need, and it makes you hate him more. Part of you knows what he’s waiting for, and you dread it. It’s within mere moments, though, that you cave, and open your mouth.

“Alastor, please,” you say. Your voice is weak, with how hard it is to take a full breath. Your body is pressed into the mattress, and with the stinging breaths you attempt to take with each thrust, and the light squeeze of his hand around your neck, you struggle. 

His hand loosens, as if he can read your mind. “What is it, dearest,” He asks. “Use your words. I know you can.”

You sigh, and nearly yell at him when his hips stop, giving you time to speak up. You roll your eyes, and nearly beg, “Please, just a little faster.”

You can hear the smile when he responds, “Of course, my doe,” and then his pace starts up again, faster, and just a tinge harder, than it had been before. Your toes curl and your hands grasp at the sheets. 

That heat was growing again, low in your belly. Your thighs were aching, and your back was as arched as you could get it. Sweat was dripping down your back, and all you could think is that you wanted more. 

“Alastor,” you moaned, and grunted back. As you clenched down on his cock, the heat grew, and you could feel tight wires wrapping around your core.

“Oh, ma biche, tu es si bonne pour moi.” His fingers found your clit again, and he rubbed with focus. “So good. You are so good.” He kept repeating it like a mantra, and you couldn’t handle it anymore. 

The wires snapped, and your body went white-hot. You couldn’t see, and you stopped being able to hear more than garbled syllables and the rhythmic thumping of the headboard against the wall. 

Your body went taut, and you clenched down. You could hear his voice grow sharp and ragged, but nothing more as he kept thrusting. 

When you finally settled enough to focus your hearing, you could hear Alastor muttering to himself. And then he went still. “Do you want me to leave my seed in you, or no?”

Your breath caught. Fuck, you hadn’t thought about that. Without thinking too much, you whispered, “In.” 

You watch one of his hands tighten on the bed, sharp claws piercing the fabric. (you’d make him replace it for sure, jerk). Without much warning, he starts his pace again, his thrusts nearly brutal. His grunts and murmuring start up again, and it’s only moments before you feel him twitch, and then heat filling you. He curls around you, head pressed between your shoulder blades. 

You stay sitting like that for a few minutes, before he slowly extricates himself from around you and pulls his cock from your slick entrance. When he returns with a warm, damp rag and cleans you up, you refuse to make eye contact. When he picks up the dirty sheets, and bring you clean ones, you stare at the floor. It’s when he brings you water, and tucks you into bed, you finally look up at him.

“I hate you,” you tell him. 

His face is neutral, and he nods. “I know.”

“This changes nothing,” you say. 

And he nods, letting his normal smile pop back on his face. “I know.”

Hi, please let me know how this was? I'm really awkward about this kind of stuff, and it makes me a tiny bit anxious. Anyways! I hope you liked it. Should I add an 18+ taglist? Also, I have a few asks and stuff that will be posted soon. House hunting has been going terribly. The market is awful, and I am just sad :(

[hazelfoureyes]

The Safeword is RadioApple (part 5)

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins tidbit 2 (cute? Not smut)

Alastor’s rut starts, and while Luci is flattered Alastor’s body sees him as a doe he’s not really down to clown. Yet, somehow…🎪 🤡

「warnings/promises: Alastor x Luci x FemReader, smut, knotting (incorrect deer anatomy), cold tea, womb flooding, Oh Yeah Luci magics a WAP (wet ass pussy) Howd I forget that 💋, so kinda virgin Luci???, threesome obvs, tentacles, sex with the lights on, jiggle physics, mating, breed kink, fluffy chest, Luci wings, brief moment of panicked wing pulling」

minors I will curse all your tea to be cold before you remember to drink it if you interact 🍵 🥶 (mdni)

It was a hilarious detail that ruts exist in hell for the more mammalian sinners. Making people incapable of producing children cyclically embarrass themselves by desperately trying to? While in terrible discomfort? Patently funny.

What wasn’t funny was the fact Alastor was a deer demon. And while Luci got a chuckle at other sinners getting their just desserts for their poor decisions concerning free will, he was now intimately tied to one of those afflicted souls.

It hadn’t really crossed his mind that such an issue could arise until Alastor began to change. 

The first sign was intense sessions of zoning not. While he often would stare off into the distance it was usually paired with an obvious look of contemplation. But one evening Luci looked up from his sketches to see Alastor staring into the void with a noticeable lack of any light behind his eyes.

It took you putting your hand on his shoulder to rouse him back to Hell. His ears perked up and eyes brightened, Luci taking note of how Alastor looked at you. A look shared between two people. Could a third person fit into the line of sight?

He shifted uncomfortably, laughing off Alastor as being drunk. 

Maybe. But when he found Alastor the following morning drenched in sweat and uncharacteristically… well, asleep, he began to worry. 

The face you made was only slightly worried, but what made the situation feel even odder was your insistence he wake up Alastor.

“Just, rub his arm. Don’t shake him. It’ll startle him.” You seemed to scoot away as you said it, which didn’t help Luci’s confidence. 

“What- why, what’s going on? What are you fleeing from?”

You had an inkling about what was happening.

“Is he sick!? Is it contagious?” Luci drew his hands to his chest, “Sinners are so gross.”

The sweating was your tip-off. “No, he’s not sick. If I do it he might react weird. You do it, he’ll not care.”

Luci grimaced, “Kitten, you’ve never made less sense than when you first told me you liked this man.”

A whimper from the deer demon made you both turn your heads to him. 

“Lucifer.” You hissed.

Alastor did not in fact “not care”, as you had promised. He had Luci pinned under him, bodies tangled in the blankets and Luci’s hands held up and out before Alastor’s eyes were even opened.

As the short king looked up at the drenched and pale radio demon, he saw a distance in the blown out stare. But whatever fog had possessed him seemed to lift as his pupils constricted, a gentle roll of his lower half into Lucifer’s making Luci yelp Alastor’s name.

He reeled back on his knees, long talons raking through his hair to unstick the strands sweat had glued to his face.

Peering down through long lashes, Alastor took a moment to assess the sight before him. Luci expected a glare as recognition flooded the other man, but instead a deep sigh before Alastor lifted off him.

His hand caught your arm and gently tugged you to follow him.

Deja vu set in as Lucifer watched Alastor take you into the bathroom. The door closed, but before he could holler how rude it was to leave him out, you re-emerged.

A sheepish look, a twirling of your fingers around themselves, “Luci.” The way you so gently sat on the edge of the bed made his stomach sink.

“It’s contagious. I’ll burn down the hotel and we can build again.” Lucifer pulled his robe up over his shoulders and tightened it at the waist. “Even better, Come live with me! I have a whole palace.” A beaming smile that wilted when you  rejected him with just a furrow of your brow.

“Luci Love,” a nickname you only used when you were trying to keep him pliable, “Alastor’s going into a rut.”

An even deeper grimace, “I thought he’d be immune to that particular punishment.”

“Nope. This is hell.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I thought he’d react gentler with you, but it seems,” you weren’t sure how to say this, “You’ve become…in his subconscious…,” where did all the air go in the room? 

Lucifer slipped out of bed, “A burden?” He paced past the bed’s posts, “A third wheel.” He began to gather his pants, “Food!” When you laughed he tripped, “Excuse you.”

You let him spiral a second longer before blurring it out, “A doe!”

He paused, one pant leg on and one off. Little blue ducky patterned boxer briefs embarrassingly bright, “I beg your pardon? I’m The King of Hell.”

“Who regularly shares Alastor’s bed.”

He huffed, “Well…I-,”

“Who has Alastor’s scent all over him.”

A scoff, “Well, he-!”

“And who shares all his free time with Alastor.”

A gasp, “Well you-!”

You waited for him to finish. Luci was keen enough to pick up the sharpness of your glare. 

“I’m not even technically female. Angels don’t have a gender I just prefer-,” he motioned to his lap.

“You don’t have to do anything, Luci. I just wanted to let you know.”

As he stood there still half undressed, he considered the options. He’d never dealt with an animalistic sinner before going through a rut or heat. He tended to share his bed with the kinds of demons who were above such afflictions.

“So we can just… leave him be for a few days, yeah?” He kicked off the pants and crawled back onto the bed towards you. “He’ll just ruin some clothes and sheets and be back to normal by the end of the weekend.”

You’d only witnessed one rut before, and the idea of leaving Alastor alone to suffer when his body knew he had a lover was… unbearable. An unpaired mating season was uncomfortable and frustrating. But a paired sinner? The ache would be unimaginable, the normal pain accentuated with heartbreak and a specific longing no one else could subside. 

No, Alastor wouldn’t be alone. You just shook your head. “Luci Love.” Lucifer pouted, He’d be the one alone? Again, pushed out of the dynamic? Out of the line of sight? Before he could consider it, you patted the bed. “No worries! As soon as it’s passed I’ll text you.”

Alastor reentered the room, towel around his wee waist and hair dripping. His presence seemed to end the conversation, and the day went on as if nothing different had taken place. The only obvious proof Alastor was slipping into a rut was that continued zoning out now paired with a fevered blush across his cheeks. 

Well, one other unmistakably odd action. His arm had come behind Lucifer, resting on the back of the sofa. 

Luci tried to not bring any attention to it, but people still stopped and looked a little longer than usual. You’d have loved to help diffuse the tension rising in the common area but you were busy taking the longest, hottest epsom bath you could manage. 

Without you to take some attention off of him, Lucifer couldn’t stand the air rolling off Alastor. So he left. Loudly yawning and dramatically stretching at 3pm in the afternoon and hastily walking down the hall.

After pacing the corridors for an odd 30 minutes, he decided to make a cup of calming tea.

His skin jumped when two large clawed hands slipped onto the countertop as he was caged in. Luci stiffened, waiting for Alastor to say something. He’d never gotten so physically close to him in public spaces before. Well, outside of fighting.

Alastor didn’t speak, just took deep and long inhales and exhales. Luci watched the sharp nails cut into the countertop with ease as Alastor’s body swayed with his rising temperature. His arousal knocked into the shorter man’s back, making Luci fall into the counter.

“Why aren’t you secluded away, monopolizing her?” Lucifer’s jealousy was poorly hidden. Leaning forward, the taller demon pressed his erection purposely into the warmth of Luci’s body. 

“Our darling shared paramour is not of the same power as I. She can only handle receiving my knot once a day at most. Anymore is burden on her body. But, for The King of Hell…surely it wouldn’t be so difficult?”

A shiver rolled down Luci’s spine and left goosebumps in its wake. “You heard me earlier…,” a question without a question mark.

One of those hands left the counter and slipped around Luci’s neck before pulling at the bow tie and tossing it aside, “I hear everything.” A roll of his hips, “The way you breath in your sleep,” his hand dropped further, pushing underneath the collar of his shirt, “Your early morning romps while I shower,” a large palm that seemed to cover half Luci’s chest with ease, “The sighs of longing when I kiss her good morning and good night.”

His hand flexed before pressing in and clutching Lucifer into his body, “Will you deny me having both my bedmates?”

“Uhh, your highness?” Vaggie stood in the open doorway, “Are you guys okay?”

Alastor didn’t budge, forcing Luci to twist in his grasp and talk over his forearm.

“Heeeey Magpie! Yeah. Yup. Just making tea.”

“With Alastor’s arms around you?” She gestured unnecessarily.

“Mmhmm!” Luci grabbed the mug with both hands, “but now we’re done. And leaving.”

Alastor tentatively released Lucifer, but replaced the hardness at his back with his firm and guiding hand. 

Vaggie moved to the side to let the men walk past her. Alastor paused and let Luci decide. Left to his private and lonely apartment, right to their room. A brief moment of hesitation before Luci groaned, running his hand through his hair in disbelief as he turned right. “Bye Vaggie!”

“Bye, Sir.” She managed to say as she watched Alastor corral the fallen angel into the elevator.

The relief you felt when Lucifer entered the room was palpable. Alastor had come to the room, expressed his neediness, watched you say you were totally ready whenever he was (the exhaustion somehow already visible) and left the room with a simple, “I’m not.” 

Now he was back, a timid and wide eyed Lucifer holding a mug.

The sound of Alastor’s belt clinking made Luci suddenly shy. Why was he acting like it was his first night in your room?

Oh that’s right. 

Because it kind of was. He wasn’t just Lucifer anymore. Alastor saw him as his, in some capacity. And the fact he was ready and willing to let the sinner fully embrace the big buck joke was… embarrassing. What would the other sins say? Luci dicked down by a horny deer sinner?

Well… Lucifer had been fucked by Alastor on more than one occasion so perhaps that didn’t quite sum it up well. There was an added level of intimacy to what they were doing. An almost official acknowledgement of Lucifer’s place.

It made his tail swish behind him tellingly.

All eyes on him as he turned from Alastor to you. You watched the lord of your afterlife nervously fumble around in the armoire for his robe. He got undressed like he’d never done it before, trying to take his pants off before his shoes. You’d have laughed if you weren’t torn away to see Alastor’s eyes fall on you from the door. 

You enjoyed low lighting, something romantic in vibes but still well lit enough to see who was who. But Alastor forgo his usual lighting tricks and opted to keep the room flooded with the natural light of day.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had sex in the afternoon. Alastor’s appetite was largely impacted by the convenience of bed time, and Luci was rather busy during the day trying to impress Charlie with his willingness to not completely abandon his people.

Alastor had undone his pants and removed his coat and shirt, showing off your favorite parts of him; a soft and fluffy chest to bury your head and a happy trail leading down a flat but still noticeably toned stomach. His pants were open just enough so that you could see the bulging top of his underwear. 

“Sooo,” Luci sang, “Did it start? Is that why he dry humped me in the kitchen?”

Alastor hummed, palming at his leaking head through the damp fabric.

Your fingers slipped down the silk of your own dressing gown, mirroring Alastor.  “Not yet. We’re going to jump start it. Get it over with.” 

“The sooner, the better.” Alastor ground out, looking with disgust at the sticky clear precum on his palm.

So, Alastor had come to retrieve him, Luci thought. He wanted him there for himself. Sure he said it was to relieve you of your burden of taking his massive knot over and over. But that didn’t explain the erect cock he pressed into Luci, or how he responded when Luci woke him up. No, on a very deep and unchosen level, Alastor had accepted the angel.

Once naked, Luci stood awkwardly beside the bed waiting for further instructions. In truth, so were you. This would only go smoothly if you both let him take the absolute lead. A glance between the two of you before you both turned to stare at Alastor.

Fully nude now, staring back at you both like a starving beast. Luci abandoned his robe when he realized Alastor was going fully naked. 

Already Alastor felt the sharpness of his thoughts blunting with an animalistic need. Instincts were blanketing his frontal cortex, and he knew from experience it was best to not fight it. Everything would be done faster if he let go. 

“It has to be you first. The first one won’t be so bad, my dear.” His attention was fully on you, stalking up to the side of the bed and pulling at the belt of your robe. The needy sound he made when you were finally revealed to him pulled a sigh from Lucifer. Alastor’s eyes snapped up to meet Luci’s, smirk spread across his cheeks and his ears twitching atop his head. Luci looked away with a pout, remembering the kitchen conversation. Alastor’s hot hand across his chest, holding him so tightly with such ease. 

That wide smile turned to you. Wide like your legs, pushed apart as Alastor slotted himself where he belonged. You didn’t know what to ask for, but Alastor started immediately with kisses to your cheeks and neck. He loved it, finding it to have no connection whatsoever to sex. That made your reactions to his kisses so amusing. You got so worked up so easily when he kissed you, it was like a game. How quickly could he make you come undone with just his lips on your flesh?

His mouth was superheated, opening to pull your skin between his lips with every peck. When his tongue pressed into your skin a little groan rumbled his chest.

The sound of a soft thwacking pulled your attention from the lavished licks trailing down your neck and sternum. With just a glance from you Luci became aware of his tail enthusiastically wagging against the large walnut headboard. Sheepishly he grabbed it and pulled it to his center, mouthing an apology. 

Alastor side eyed him and patted the bed, instructing him to settle beside you. 

How rarely his kisses dripped into such salacious slurps and sucks, how uncommon for Alastor to seem to be arousing himself. 

Luci felt so out of place. You three often spent time together like this, but more than not it was you and him with Alastor to the side. What did Alastor normally do when he was busy pleasuring you?

Moving you as little as necessary, he lifted your shoulders and slid behind you. With your head resting on his lower stomach he could straighten out his legs and get comfortable. Alastor acknowledged Lucifer by stretching himself up and kissing him on the mouth. The action took the king by surprise,  it was even rarer for Alastor to kiss him. Luci moaned into the affection, earning a satisfied growl from the radio demon. 

Could he rut more often? Luci wondered as their lips pressed together. 

You watched from your place remembering the first time they surprised you with their teamwork.

Alastor kissed Luci again. And then another, harsher one. The third licking across the smaller man’s mouth. Luci parted his lips, deepening the kiss. Your body rocked as Alastor’s hips rolled into you, half hard cock growing stiffer with each return into the king’s mouth. Alastor moaned, his rutting becoming stronger and longer. 

You bit back your own sounds as his cock head caught on your entrance. Alastor broke the kiss and looked down at you for the go ahead. You were already wet, watching them make out was enough but the rubbing of your clit with his erection had you more than ready. He returned to lavishing Luci’s mouth, hips expertly angling back and pressing into you.

Despite your arousal, there was still a slight burn to the stretch of your walls around him. He didn’t ease in, instead pushing forward until he was sunk to the hilt. The pressure of his cock already pushing into your cervix made you moan loudly into the thin space between your face and Alastor’s lower chest.

The feeling of being in you and hearing you express how good that made you feel in turn made the deer sinner growl into Luci’s open mouth, and your monarch found it intoxicating. His head was swimming. An idea came to him that he tucked away for when it was his turn. A stunt he was sure would make Alastor growl and groan even louder for him. 

Alastor’s pace quickened, hips coming down against yours without concern for bruising. His mouth stayed locked on Lucifer’s lips, parting for the briefest of moments to pant heavily into the few centimeters between them. To let the man go any further from him was unimaginable and unacceptable. As if to convey that sentiment, Alastor’s hips began to press in and up, using the force to slowly fuck you up the bed, against Luci, until the latter’s head was pressed into the headboard. Trapped between Alastor’s hungry mouth and solid wood.

The few times your eyes could maintain focus, you caught Alastor looking down at you. A pause to stop and acknowledge the pleasure you were so freely giving him.

Passionate was not the typical word you’d use for Alastor’s approach to sex, but that was the only word to come to mind as you watched him bully his tongue past the already swollen lips of your other lover. 

Your nails clamored up Luci’s thighs and sunk into the skin near his hip bones. Every exhale came out high and shaky.

As you began to tighten around him, muscles clenching and twitching in response to the way his cock was ramming into your cervix, Alastor finally sat back on his haunches. His hand pressed against your womb and felt your skin move with every inward thrust. 

Everything was checking off boxes in his empty head; moaning mate, tight cunt, deep press, two does, clean sheets.

His hands came to your hips to raise you to the perfect angle. Knees widening, he lowered, exploratory thrusts slowed until he adjusted to just how he needed you. You didn’t know the question or the answer he had found, just felt how his wide cock prodded your g-spot. 

Alastor’s body was on autopilot, the heat of his fever reaching a pitch you could feel in your deepest spots.

When his knot was forced into you, it’s pulsing and constant pressure on your g-spot was so immense it set off an orgasm that had been building slowly until then. Unprepared, it took your body by surprise as your core drew in. 

Lucifer watched your legs fold up and shoulders lift off the bed. Your moans waned before roaring back into shrieks; wails so close to pained he panicked as you shook. You could feel Alastor twitching inside you, the heat of his release uncommonly high. It forced your focus momentarily to that flood of hot seed pooling at your cervix.

A new orgasm crashed through you before the last one’s waves had fully subsided, giving you no time to rest. When you tried to breathe and relax your muscles, you found your swollen cunt sinking further onto his knot. The only way to avoid overstimulation was to keep your stomach and thighs so tight you were ever so slightly pulled away from him.

“Fuck! Cramp!” Your left leg straightened, weakening your perfect pose. Trembling as you struggled to keep the hills of pleasure from becoming something rockier, Luci’s hands shot to your thigh. Firm thumbs tried to find the problem area, Alastor not minding or possibly even noticing Luci.

After some readjustment, you could settle and let the multiple orgasms end their streak. It took time for Alastor to finish, several more sudden and gushing rounds of his cum flooding you. His knot did its job, not letting a drop leave your hole as your lower belly extended slightly. When Alastor finally deflated, he pulled out and let you roll over onto your stomach. 

Your arms and legs were still racked with tremors, thighs promising to give out the second you stood. You didn’t get the chance to try though, as soon as you began to crawl on all fours to the edge of the bed a large clawed hand pressed firmly into your upper back and held you down. A hand significantly bigger than before. 

“Alastor!” Luci snarled as your face was sinking into the pillows. His eyes flashed his signature red at the now looming form of the radio demon. 

“It’s okay Luci. He just needs a second.” You mumbled, feeling Alastor’s free hand run down your sore and swollen entrance. Another moment of Alastor huffing and scenting the air filled the room before he released you. With a roll and a wobble, you rushed to the bathroom to keep the carpet from getting stained with what you could already feel gravity pulling out of you. 

Alastor fell face first into the bed. Luci could see the exhaustion settle on the sinner and let nails scratch down Alastor’s back. The deer demon hummed a stifled, “Thank you.” into the silk of the pillows.

Luci very rarely had time to linger on Alastor’s body. The two usually found themselves lost in pleasure and caught in the moment, never a chance to notice the details. He remembered Alastor commented on the sound of him sleeping, a sentiment so oddly sweet he felt compelled to do something sweet in return. He threw his leg over Alastor’s thighs and straddled him, both hands now running up and down his back. 

While already smaller than him, Luci could really appreciate how much Alastor had shifted into his more domineering size. His hands were so delicate looking against the scarred and tanned skin of his reluctant partner. 

As he reached forward to scratch along his shoulders, he didn’t notice how his soft cock was rubbing against the curve of Alastor’s ass. He might not have noticed if not for Alastor’s pleasured groans growing louder, followed quickly by the rapid flicking of his tail against Lucifer’s navel. 

“Feel good, big guy?” Luci leaned forward now with purposeful teasing. Alastor bucked back into Luci’s lap, causing his monarch to feel unsteady nd grip his shoulders for security. “I don’t normally do this, but I’m feeling generous today.” 

Alastor’s eyes were closed but still the glow Luci’s golden magic reached past his eyelids. He didn’t register anything had changed for that first second. But then, one by one, the clues roused him.

The little prick against his cheeks was absent. 

Something wet was pressing into his thighs.

A sweet and dizzying scent he didn’t know but his brain recognized as good was reaching his nose.

He shot up so quickly Luci fell onto his back with a shout. Alastor felt his vision blur as he tried to focus on the image before him. 

Two large, forward turned doe ears atop Luci’s head and a glistening, wet pussy between his milky thighs.

“Surprise!” Luci said proudly, getting onto his stomach to show off his small blonde tail. He knew it would drive Alastor wild but he failed to understand exactly what that meant for a deer demon in rut.

Luci’s eyes rolled back, Alastor’s mouth cupping his newly magicked sex and tongue lapping from clit to hole. It was working far better than he had hoped.

Hips rising up to meet the hungry tongue, Luci regretted not trying this sooner. Everything was so slick. Alastor’s nose nuzzled his flesh with every move between his folds before diving into Luci’s own heat. The growl the sinner made as he fucked Luci with his tongue sent shivers through the king’s body. This was the best praise he’d ever received from Alastor, by far. 

The sensations were foreign, his memory of using such a form too outdated to provide him any reference. Soft walls prodded by the strong, long tongue. Luci’s thighs slid open wider and wider to allow more access.

Alastor’s hips ground down into the bed, leaking cock smearing into the blankets as he sought friction. His brain told him to breed but his body didn’t want to part from Luci’s cunt for a second. But when his newly minted mate moaned so loudly, so unashamedly signaled how good Alastor was making him feel, he found the strength.

Luci’s hand flew back to slow Alastor’s entrance, “It’s new anatomy, Alastor. You can’t just go in with one thrust like with Kitten.” He raised his hips, drawing his knees in and gripping the blankets, “Ease in.”

Nothing Luci said really penetrated Alastor’s skull. His vision was pretty pink and sopping wet. But he did try, to be fair. At the first press Alastor had to break the skin of his bottom lip with his teeth to regain some mental clarity. Distantly he heard his king’s sharp gasps and he could feel the way Luci’s hips jumped away before slowly pushing back to regain the length lost. He found Luci nearly too tight, too hot, too soft. A very real fear he would entirely lose his mind tried to sink into his stomach but got burned away in his chest. 

“Good boy.”

He couldn’t be sure who said it. But his hips began thrusting in response, shallow but fast. Every return allowed him to stake new territory in his Doe King.

Luci couldn’t think straight either, the pain was enough to make him shake yet added an excitement he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t pain for nothing. It was the ache of his body stretching apart to accept Alastor. It was the sting of being molded to his lover. The growl Alastor let out when he could finally fit all of himself in made the smaller man’s toes curl.

He clicked back into his body from the sensation of your fingers carding through his disheveled hair. 

“Looks like you’re taking him well, your majesty.” You cooed, sliding down onto your belly and resting your head on your arm. He saw the way your eyes examined the angle at which Alastor was hitting. Your hands gripped his ears gently, watching his tail swish side to side.

“Doe.” Luci ground out, neck craning back, “I thought he’d like it.”

Alastor reached over and let his hand feel the impact of his cock through Luci’s lower stomach. Coming down, he let two large palms rest on either side of Luci’s ears. If the position didn’t warn him, a beginning move for Alastor’s mating press, the bulging knot threatening his hole did.

“I don’t wanna,” Luci stopped to moan, body rocking back to meet the already dead end thrusts, “—this position when he knots.” 

It took some coordination, and Alastor didn’t particularly like the idea, but he relented. He took Luci by the waist and fell backward onto the bed. 

Alastor whined when the warmth of Lucifer’s cunt left him, but you were treated to the most salacious moans as Luci sunk back down onto the bright red organ.

Finding a pace that satisfied him was easy, as Alastor had swelled large enough to bully every inch of Lucifer’s newly broken-in pussy. 

Watching his doe eared lover ride him so vigorously made Alastor’s chest heave and swell with pride. 

“He wants you so badly,” you smile as you slid into the bed beside Alastor, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“Funny,” a snicker before letting his hips fuck up into Luci and knocking him off balance, “He seemed insulted to be called a doe earlier.”

Luci flashed a middle finger before resting both hands in Alastor’s raised knees for support. 

Alastor turned his head to you, whispering how perfect you were for him, how you gave him more than he deserved. You let your eyes close to the sound of his voice so low and gravelly. His words warmed your heart and your lap with efficiency you had to admire.

Jumbled and rather embarrassing thoughts flooded the radio demon's mind far worse than the ones he said out loud to you. He felt he fully succeeded in bringing the devil under him (metaphorically). But the animal pieces of himself he was made to endure went silly and slack, what a feisty mate. My prodigy could have no better than the devil himself. Good doe. Mine. 

You opened your eyes again and watched the knot swell to a point you’d consider scary. Alastor sensed it somehow too, despite the static bouncing around his skull in lieu of rational consciousness, and turned his attention away from you.

He wrapped a hand around Luci’s neck and drew him down to his face, his mouth to the king’s ear. “When you cum, I will make you take my knot. And then your tight little hole will clamp down and milk me dry. Are you ready, your majesty? To take everything I will give?”

Luci clenched around Alastor and bit back the ever present urge to argue. He nodded and let himself be fucked. He felt so small and safe in the embrace of the transformed sinner. One hand could palm his skull with ease and it made him shiver at the thought. How rarely he let himself be physically manipulated. Alastor always made the circumstance so rewarding it was impossible to turn down.

Stomach tightening, he tried to remember how it felt to have a vaginal orgasm. Tried to recall how he reacted. For some reason as you reminded him to take deep breaths, he stumbled over his peak.

When he felt Luci spasming around his cock Alastor bit back his moan to finally push the rest of himself in. It was borderline cruel to wait for that moment, when he knew Lucifer would be the tightest and least pliable but the feeling of such soft flesh rolling over his knot made him slip out of his mind entirely. His knot was pulled in, his darling doe’s cunt felt like it was sucking him deeper with every twitch.

Luci pushed himself up, muscles screaming to move as he shook from the full body euphoria of being stretched and stuffed so intensely.

The looseness of his waning orgasm radiated out from his core. Without intention, Luci’s wings expanded as the relaxation made it to his shoulders. In a flurry of feathers and low growls Lucifer’s wings were seized in cutting claws and dragged down. Instinctively he pulled back, horns out for the second time that day as he glared down at Alastor, arm cocked back to strike at the insolent demon. But Alastor’s smile was entirely absent, brows knit together in a confusing display of angry panic that brought a pause to Luci’s fist. 

Quickly, you sat up and set a soft hand on his chest, “Heeey baby, it’s okay. Luci isn’t going anywhere.” Slowly, setting the pace for where you wanted his breathing to come down to, your fingers raked through his chest fluff. “He was just showing his buck how good he makes him feel. Loosen your hands, Alastor. I promise your pretty doe won’t fly away. Right, Luci?”

A pleading gaze from you to please be patient with the afflicted deer. A stiff nod from the king.

Luci watched as a flicker of embarrassment fell over Alastor’s face, ears pressing back and down to his skull, and his fists around the wings opened. 

When Alastor’s black and red eyes locked on Luci’s red and yellow, the king blinked away the warning display and brought his head down. Cautiously, refusing to withdraw his horns completely yet but letting his wings dissipate, he bared his neck to the mess of a man beneath him. He felt the sigh before he heard it, Alastor’s hands returning to Luci’s body with a much calmer touch as he pulled the offered flesh into his mouth.

That intoxicating scent returned, making Alastor’s mouth flood with saliva. Lucifer let his body go slack back into Alastor’s embrace as his neck was nipped and sucked. He wanted to warn against marks, knowing he couldn’t lie if Charlie asked about them. But a little flame of pride lit him up in a not dissimilar way to Alastor earlier. 

He hid his smile in the fluffy expanse beneath him, sighing as he felt a second release of Alastor’s cum fill him even further. He didn’t want Luci to go. He wanted him there, so much so he manhandled the devil to try and keep him close. How deeply satisfying it felt to be wanted. He’d surely tease Alastor later for it, but in that moment he felt full of honey and wine. Sweet and dizzy. 

You relaxed again, letting Alastor’s arm come around you and tuck you against his side. 

A blanket of trophies, two lovers of worth he couldn’t articulate surrounding him. Luci squeaked as Alastor twitched inside him with primal satisfaction.  ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When you all awoke some hours later from what you could only call a cock drunk bliss nap, there was little time to consider other needs like food and water.

Alastor felt frustrated at being able to fuck just one of you at once. He was visibly annoyed, ears twitching and tail pressed down over his ass. Luci, ever the clever if not poorly thought out angel, pulled your body onto his. Your back against his chest, his chin against your ear.

Luci wiggled his hips which made your own body move too.

“Shouldn’t you be grateful for two holes to fill, Alastor? I didn’t take you for greedy.”

“It’s a matter of pride.” Alastor shot back. Your legs fell to either side of Lucifer’s as his thighs spread. 

His furrowed brow melted and rose as he returned to the warmth of Luci’s body. He watched your form bounce and jiggle with every thrust, a softness that made him swallow back the drool threatening to spill from his mouth.

Perhaps it was the rut, but he took far too long to realize he had a remedy to his problem.

The room darkened, the red of the day now a peerless black. You felt something small and thin press at your entrance gently before sinking in. Widening the further it went, you smiled through your moan as you realized Alastor had let loose his shadow arms.

Black and writhing tentacles of darkness that wrapped around Luci’s thighs and slid around your waist. A physical manifestation of his needs.

Finally, he could hear you both gasping beneath him. You watched through lusty tear filled eyes as Alastor’s form twitched and grew between your sets of thighs. 

Antlers threatening to knock against the posts of your shared canopy bed as he sighed at the thought of breeding both of his mates.

Sooner than either of you had anticipated, Alastor leaned forward and lifted Luci’s body to allow him to drive his cock as deeply as it could go. 

You felt Luci stiffen beneath you, his arms holding onto your scrambling as Alastor fucked his still inflating knot in and out of him.

Luci’s panting and pleasured cries into your neck was doing so much for you. Eyes closed, feeling that wet tentacle pumping out of you faster and faster and imagining how wide Luci was being forced apart on Alastor’s knot brought you to your second orgasm of the day. Alastor could smell your pleasure, your sweat and your slick flooding his senses as Luci’s fluttering hole numbed his mind to anything but the two of you.

The sound of slapping skin slowed as Alastor came with a growl into the headboard. He moved until his knot was stuck, letting himself moan out mumbled praises for you both as he flooded Luci’s womb. 

The discomfort set in so quickly after the pleasure faded. Alastor’s cock tender and chaffed, Luci’s pussy sore and swollen, and your body and mind spent from the stress and pleasure of managing to keep both men civil and happy.

A bath sounded so good at that moment, but you knew Lucifer was attached to Alastor for a little while and that Alastor wouldn’t allow you to leave the bed yet. 

He sat back on his haunches again, lowering his hips to let Luci’s body relax into the bed.

Alastor’s hands petted at your legs, his signature smile snaking across his face again. 

Feeling your weight on him was as close to divine as he hoped to get again, and Luci was glad to be trapped around Alastor’s dick still. He held you tighter to him and nuzzled your neck. A a cozy feeling of being seen in the same look as you and not just as a background character to Alastor washed over him.

A perfect way to begin your long night and the even longer weekend ahead.

“Ah!” Luci piped up, “My tea.”

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˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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