#cut to the chase and so will he. with rewards. <3 ] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hazelfoureyes · 9 months ago

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I just need you to know this story has had me in a chokehold and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. This is gonna be a weird smutty slow burn, so still smut every post but full p in v sex will be a reward you have to work for?

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Redsmut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedysmut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual �� Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

「warnings/tags: HumanAlastor x FemaleReader, implied attempt to SA, fingering, plot with porn?, Multi part work, bad kind of choking, blood kink, blood licking, just in general blood, Non-Sex repulsed Ace Spectrum Alastor, stalking, murder obvs, finger sucking, smoking kinda kills if you squint, Public sex acts, garter belt, You have a stage name but no one important uses it, Greed, Lust, Human Alastor is a little different than Demon Alastor. 」

minors dni 💅🏽

Part 1 Pretty in Red

The marriage between burlesque and jazz wasn’t unexpected. Before the Great Depression took the nation into a stranglehold, both Jazz and Burlesque were immoral wastes of time only the most barbaric sought out.

And oh, did you love it. Everyone who was made to feel like nobody flocked to your theater and the surrounding neighborhood. Men, women, the people who didn’t agree with either. The biblically inclined, those closer to sodom, the sapphic dolls. Everyone was equal in the halls of jazz rooms and theatres where burlesquers were welcome.

Because of the inclusive nature of such places, you often saw familiar faces. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone from Thursday night to be seen Saturday at a different locale.

That presented certain opportunities and challenges. When you found a good mark, it was easy to be wherever he was and play it off as fate and common interests.

And when you gained a new stalker, someone wanting a personal show, it could be hard to tell until it was too late.

Maybe it was your greed, or just your love of attention, but you found yourself focused almost entirely on a particularly well dressed man one evening. You’d seen him around before. Clean cut, sharp suit, a welcoming smile always on display. He looked like he had money, the most attractive quality of any man you could meet.

So focused on his gleaming stare from the side booths you hadn’t noticed the man at the stage front tables. You barely noticed him the night before, or the night before that, either. Because Smiles, as you took to calling the handsome stranger in the back, had been here three nights now too.

You really put on a show. Shimmying your hips, ostrich feathers following suit with every move. Your brassiere was heavy with shining rhinestones, panties of silk and lace. Your set was almost done, all that was left was to remove your top and slink away behind the curtains to hollers and whistles. Back turned, you unhooked the painful bra and let it fall to the stage with a clunk. Foot in front of foot, you stalked the stage length. With your hand hidden from view you took the feathered fan from the stagehand behind the curtain. As the music crescendoed you turned, fan unfurling just in time to hide yourself.

Groans, mass begging from the audience. Your stage name a chant now, a prayer. “Autumn! Come on!”

As the band slowed, music dying to mark the end of your number, you scanned the crowd. Eyes blinking coyly, you mouthed, “More? Did you want more?”

People were jumping to their feet, not Smiles but that was fine, you were focused now on the adoration of the crowd. The music ended, a second of silence.

You winked, the drums hitting one last beat as you let the fan close.

Fanfare! Men whistling, women clapping. Someone shouted a marriage proposal. You took a bow, twirled on the balls of your feet and slipped gracefully behind the curtains.

Your hands wound to your spine, rubbing blood flow back into your skin as the staff removed your headdress. Someone slipped your robe over you and you nodded a thanks, aching feet carrying you to the dressing room. It was chaos, as usual. Women buzzing around, tits and ass here and there. You smiled. You happened to enjoy this part of the job. Soft bodies in shiny costumes, lovely smells and sweet voices. If you could get dressed quickly enough, you could still take a tour of the room and slide into Smiles’ booth.

“Enjoy the show?” You’d ask. He’d lean in, maybe blush, “Always when you’re here.” Or something like that. You’d cozy up to him, flag down a waiter for something strong and pricey, and get him properly drunk. He’d wake up outside, fine and dandy except his missing cash.

You’ll call him a drunkard if he confronts you, accuse him of getting himself robbed after you refused his advances. You’ll say it too loudly, and he’ll run off.

You danced a little in your seat, another game of cat and mouse about to commence. But first, a smoke.

Unbeknownst to you, the well dressed man hadn’t come to see you. He preferred your singing shows at the little dive bar two blocks over. No, he had come for the man at the front table. For weeks now, he had watched him harassing the ladies of the few joints in New Orleans that weren’t regularly hounded by police. Your smiley mark even heard stories of unsavory acts, many women leaving the dance scene entirely after.

He didn’t care for it. He didn’t care for him. So he took to his hunt, following the man to come to his own conclusions. The pattern of behavior was obvious, and though he hadn’t seen what ended the last obsession, it was clear one of the performers at this club was being stalked as the next victim.

He watched your dance with half lidded eyes, just as much as he watched the man give dirty looks to the other men cheering. Heard the, “Marry me!” shouted at you.

Yes, it was obvious to him now.

So when the target of his interest got up and pushed his way into a staff only door, well, the well dressed man was sure to follow.

The great thing about confidence and a nicely tailored suit is that no one questions you about why you are where you are. So while the brute he tailed had to shove past people to get wherever he was going, people smiled and made room for the gentleman who was not far behind.

He caught the street access door before it closed, allowing it to stay open just a sliver. Enough for one golden brown eye to watch the events unfold.

“Can I have a light?” The stranger asked you. You looked at him, then to the staff only entrance he just came out of.

“I don’t think I know you….,” you handed him the lighter but he instead leaned into you, cigarette hanging from his lips. “You… new?”

You sparked the flint with a practiced thumb, taking three tries to get it lit, and put your hand out. The man didn’t budge, eyebrows rising, “You really don’t recognize me?” He asked, motioning with his hand to come closer. Your eyes glanced down the alley, cars slowly moving past the street. When you looked back, the man took your wrist in his hand. He held you so tightly that the muscles in your palm locked and you dropped the lighter.

“What the fu-,” his hand came across your face, halting your sentence.

“I’m your best customer. Every show. I’m the one who brings flowers.”

Dozens of men bring flowers, especially on the weekend shows. You held your cheek, skin burning. Your hand pulled back, the corner of your lip bleeding from his rings. Scrambling, your mind was searching for the right words.

With a forced smiled, your shaky voice finally piped up, “Oh! Yeah! Oh geez. I am so sorry, doll. I’m just so tired, and the alley is so dark. Here, let’s go inside so I can get a better look at you.” You tried to take your wrist from him but he didn’t loosen up.

“Nah, you ain’t tricking me. You owe me.” He pulled you into him, large hand gripping your face with ease, “You can’t lead on men like this and think you don’t gotta answer for it.” He kissed you, forcing your face into his. “Bitch! Did you fucking bite me?” He threw you into the tin trash cans beside the wall, knocking the wind out of you.

No purse, no sharp object, not even a heeled shoe to defend yourself with. You cursed, so preoccupied with Smiles you forgot your wits.

You spit out the copper saliva, his blood and yours. “I’ll keep biting, too.”

Why scream? The sounds of the next act were bouncing off the brick walls. Upbeat jazz and applause echoing around you. No one would hear you. Men can break your body but you never had to give them your dignity. Never give them the satisfaction of a response.

No. No screaming. You instead spent your energy trying to get to your feet. He took hold of your neck now, throttling you. It wasn’t what you had expected, but as he lifted you off the ground and your little dressing room slippers fell off, you thought this was actually better.

“Well I think that’s quite enough.”

You felt warmth, then registered wetness. Your shin scraped on the asphalt as you were dropped without warning. Trying to open your eyes, you found you couldn’t see. Wiping and blinking away the foreign liquid, you watched your attacker fall to his knees.

Blood was shooting from between his fingers around his own neck, each pulse becoming weaker and weaker, evident through the stream.

When he finally fell over, drained, you were startled to see another man with you. The light reflected off his glasses as he adjusted them, the knife still in his right hand as he did so.

“My, my. What a mess he’s made.” The man smiled down at you, offering a hand. When you didn’t immediately react, he cocked his head to the left, “Is that anyway to treat your rescuer?”

Is that was this was? A rescue? You took his hand with both of yours, pulling yourself up.

Smiles? You blinked away the shock, time to shift into your next part. Damsel. You weren’t out the woods yet.

“You saved my life!” As you pressed yourself into his chest, you tucked your head beneath his chin. You tried to make yourself small. “I owe you! Please let’s go inside, drinks on me!” You looked up, batting your lashes.

“I don’t think that’s wise, dear.” His gaze panned down your dress, soaked through. He could see the thinking behind your eyes.

“No, right….,” You gripped his vest, “We gotta get outta here, fast. There’s a hotel just behind the threatre.” You started to pull his suit jacket off, slipping it over yourself. “No cops, the theatre will get raided. Just— take me somewhere safe?”

You watched him look you over, arm finally extending to let you hook yours with his.

As soon as the hotel door closed behind you, you slipped off his jacket and ran to the dressing table mirror.

Your face was painted red, navy dress now black and sticky. It was good you stayed from view of the reception staff. “I didn’t get my rescuer’s name,” you licked your thumb and rubbed at the blood around your cheeks.

“Alastor. It’s a pleasure.”

You laughed, “Is that what you call a pleasure?” Turning, you pulled the mostly still dry handkerchief from your pocket and dabbed the corner on your tongue. You brought it up to the frame of his glasses and wiped the blood from the metal. “I’d hate to see what you call a bad time.”

Your hand slowed, noticing the way he was looking at you. Typically men’s pupils were blown when they fell on you, but his were constricted. They flitted around your face. His hand took hold of yours, fingers separating the thumb from the handkerchief. He pulled the little square of yellow fabric free with his other hand, allowing him to hold your thumb now by itself.

His lips opened, tongue licking the blood stained finger before placing it directly into his mouth.

Your stared, horrified, as he sucked the digit clean.

His eyes fluttered close, finger popping out of his mouth with a debauched sound. You made no attempt to take back your hand. The realization you may have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire set in.

“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” You tried to sound as in control as possible. Calm. Unwavered. Offered a timid smile.

He chuckled, “You could say that. May I?” His fingers lifted your chin. You didn’t know what he was asking. His soft smile looked downright loving. He smelled so good, notes of something earthy rising above the copper.

You nodded, because part of you wanted to see where it would go. And part of you thought you didn’t have a choice.

As his face came to yours, you instinctually closed your eyes expecting a kiss. But no, instead you felt his tongue wipe across the cut at the corner of your mouth. His breath blanketed your cheek. Then his hand left your chin, the warmth of his body gone entirely.

You opened your eyes to see him at the door, slipping back into his jacket, “I’ll pay for the night.” He tipped his head to you and exited the room back first, eyes locked with yours until the door closed.

You just stood there in the silence left behind. But as if on cue, the adrenaline waned and your knees buckled under you. You were moments from death, now somehow spared. But what had he— Alastor, been doing there? Did he follow you, too? The cat and mouse had been flipped, or perhaps now this was a fox and hound?

Gripping the dressing table, you pulled yourself up and into the view of the mirror again. Face streaked in dried blood save for the one clean spot where your lips met cheek.

You felt like a ghost the next day. It would be nice to tell someone about what happened but, “Hey a man tried to kill me and then another man killed him! Then he licked blood off my face and I let him. It was the most disturbingly erotic thing to happen to me in months!” would get you tossed into a wagon.

“Are you rude or just stupid?” The theatre manager pulled you aside by the arm when you came into rehearsal. “You can’t just disappear like that, people were waiting.”

Your eyes narrowed, “Was… my absence really the most exciting part of the evening? Not the John in the gutter?”

He huffed, “So that’s it? Got a beau?”

“Wait— nothing else happened last night? After I left?”

“This show doesn’t revolve around you. Plenty happened.”

“Excuse me,” you hurried into the back, “And sorry!”

You opened the street access door and looked into the alley. Trash cans neat and tidy, no dead man, nothing strange or telltale.

You ducked back inside. Had Smiles done this? Obviously, actually. No stranger just cleaned up the dead body. If the flatfeet had found him, the club would have been under scrutiny.

Good, you thought, and went about your work.

Rehearsal dragged on. Little details summoning you back to the night before.

“You okay?” Another performer asked, grabbing your hand and inspecting the blood around your cuticles.

“Oh it’s not mine!” You laughed, she laughed, you walked off before she could clarify.

When applying your makeup, you remembered his hands on your face. They were so soft. Definitely a man of means. A brief intrusive thought, the other hands on your face last night.

You pranced on stage, going through the motions of your routine. Even in the empty hall, your eyes wandered to the booth he’d been in. And as you took the stage in earnest later that night you searched the crowd for the glint of his glasses and found nothing shiny nor promising.

Back in the dressing room you took a moment to wonder what the actual fuck you we’re doing. He murdered a man in front of you, why were you hoping to see him again? He had half a mind to kill you next.

But would that really be so bad? Your life was routine, boring even. The only thing keeping your lungs expanding was the applause. Maybe the headlines of your death would cause such an uproar, dancer struck down in her prime, that you could bask in the loving glow all the way from hell.

One way to remain famous, you considered. A dramatic death.

Not that you were famous. You weren’t part of the national circuits. Just your local theatres, a common face and body to the sinners of Louisiana’s most infamous city. But, well, fame is relative. For the scene you were in, you were your own little star.

A shining light. Shimmering. The faint light reflecting off— Blood. For a second you could only remember looking through bloodied, heavy lashes.

“You’ve been so out of it. Trouble in paradise?” Ruth, the curviest of your coworkers and arguably the favorite of the crew, rested her chin on your head. Looking at each other in the mirror, you offered a soft smile.

“I’ll letcha know when I get there.”

She pinched your cheek, “Tommy said you had a new guy. I just figured-,”

“That isn’t,” you clenched your eyes shut, “no, no guy. I just got locked out last night in the alley. The sticky-,” sticky and viscous blood, “back door wouldn’t open up. I didn’t want to come in the front in my slippers so I just hoofed it home.”

She patted your head, “if you say so! Be careful out there though. Dangerous these days.”

An understatement.

You enjoyed the spotlight, but more than that you craved the attention doted on you after. You’d walk through the hall to the bar to adoring looks and free drinks. It bothered you that Tommy was telling the girls you had a man. You didn’t want to appear too closed off, or for word to spread to the customers.

Last thing you needed was men passing you by for more available options. Not that the pay wasn’t fine. Ends were being met, but grifting added an element of thrill. You really did love the chase. Finding someone and deciding he would be yours, he would fall under your spell and be at your feminine mercy. It made you feel powerful, almost mythical. And the money was nice. Sometimes you didn’t even need to steal, the men would just lavish you in gifts and you’d let it fizzle out naturally. Normally their wives would snatch them back or they’d just get tired of waiting for you to leave the stage and dance into their domestic dreams. A housewife? An adopted mother to a grown man during the day, a hungry nymph at night? For what, an allowance and a home you didn’t own? Pass. Where’s that handsome man with his knife? That was a much better steel to fall onto than what these men offered from their laps.

From your view at the bar you knew he wasn’t there. But with a nod you decided the chase was still on. You were going to get your victory. If anything, this would be easier. You had dirt on him. Blackmail would be simple enough. Bloody clothes and the perfect alibi; being a woman. No cop would think you took down that hulking man.

Ah, right. There was no body.

That would be an issue. He had to have taken it somewhere. Just find him and follow. Worst case scenario, you play the usual game and steal whatever cash was in his wallet.

Well, worst case you die.

You slept sitting up to keep your hair set, during the day your makeup barely was there but a red lip always the star. You had three nice dresses (well, you had had four) so you figured three nights to find him before moving on.

You slinked through the crowds of the hot and sweaty dance club Moxie. Swinging music kept bodies moving, and though you kept your eyes open you didn’t catch sight of this Alastor fellow. Which was fine! You enjoyed a few dances, swing always making you feel energized. Not a waste of a Friday night.

Saturday was easy, the lounge on fifth. Smooth jazz, plush chairs, rich men. Definitely a place you could imagine Smiles to frequent. The whisky was all top shelf, and many gentlemen offered you a lap to sit. Sure, no Alastor, but you didn’t go home empty handed.

You weren’t a particularly great singer, but if the room was small enough and the piano loud enough, you could please a crowd. Your friend had you on a semi-set schedule most Sundays at her little dive too many blocks from Main Street. Her darling played piano, you sat and sang to the couple dozen patrons stuffed into the one room bar. When you finished your set, you took your bows and looked for your friend. You needed to tell her you wouldn’t be staying.

Your polite nods and gracious thank yous were abruptly ended by a tap on your shoulder, “You dropped this, miss.” You did a mental check of your purse before turning around.

“Oh, a sight for sore eyes. Mr. Alastor.” Your face lit up, you could see it in his glasses.

“You’re too kind. Here, I apologize for the delay. I wanted to return them clean.” In his hand was your yellow handkerchief, folded neatly. You took it and found it uncharacteristically heavy.

When you unfurled it, your brass lighter fell into your waiting palm. Your thumb caressed the engraving.

Alastor watched your face as the lighter tumbled out. “I figured it was important, given the condition and detailing.”

You tested the weight in your hand, “Did you fill it?” You looked to him incredulously. He nodded.

It was a surprisingly kind act, and you needed a second to regain your composure. “I don’t know how to thank you.” Your quick wit failed for a moment, but rebounded fast. “Except with a drink. My treat. To my rescuer.”

He mulled the idea, your reaction to him was interesting. Alastor had thought if he approached you first you’d show a little more fear, or shock. But you looked downright chipper to see him there.

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time tonight. I had just wanted to return your items.”

Your smile dropped. How did he know you were here? Had he been carrying— no, he said he had them cleaned. Had he seen you here before, before the incident? A chuckle, smile brought back, “My luck is terrible. You always flee me. I hope you don’t see my company as deadweight.”

Alastor’s smile twitched, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, “Not at all! I think you’d find I’m quite comfortable with-.”

“Lugging people around?” You said. That constricted pupil again, eyes wild. A chill ran down your spine. Alarms were going off. Wrong answer. You straightened your back, popping the items into your purse, “Next time.”

Alastor nodded, “Yes. Next time, then.”

You fucked it up. You knew you had, but suddenly his words felt like a thinly veiled threat.

You turned to leave and hadn’t seen his smile sour.

It hadn’t been a threat. He hadn’t anticipated you to notice the implication. Most people would have been so blinded by his charm they would fail to notice the glaring red flags. He was mildly impressed. You would be more trouble than he had expected.

Alastor knew he needed to do something about the clearly clever woman who was seemingly expecting him. He had followed you for several days, surprised to find you not spreading word about the murder. You hadn’t spoken to anyone, really. Even the man you left the lounge with, you just smiled and nodded nearly all evening while the man dominated the conversation. So, your sharp wit took him off guard. Who were you pretending to be? And why?

All of your cleverness fell apart when you tried to follow him. It was almost comical. He felt bad. This was going to be embarrassing for you.

He took several right turns and stepped into the park just outside of the bar. You thought perhaps he had gotten lost and considered turning around after you realized you’d lost sight of him. As you passed a large weeping willow, you were pulled under the curtains of hanging moss by your waist.

Back against the large tree, you could only pout.

“What are you after, stalking a man in the dead of night?” Alastor had you pinned, both hands on either side of your head. His body boxed you in, not that there was much more to see than moss and darkness.

You blinked several times. What a question. You answered honestly, “You.” He cocked a brow. Then you lied, “Your affection. Your time.”

Something akin to a giggle bubbled from his chest. “I don’t have much affection, but I have even less time.” Your eyes darted around, looking for your next move. “I-,” you grabbed him by the face and kissed him. When you broke the kiss he was staring wide eyed, glasses askew. He opened his mouth to speak and you kissed him again, longer, harder.

He seemed frozen under your mouth, lips taut. Your hands roamed his face, messing up his hair and glasses. Mind reeling. Play the nymph. Be the whore the men always said they hated. Be too strong, too forward, too much and he’ll run off like men do. You could try again another day.

Your hand reached for his lap, his hips instinctively jerking away. Perfect. Men these days can’t get it up for a woman who takes the lead.

Alastor was entirely unsure what the fuck was happening. You were wildly unpredictable. When you grabbed at his dick, he thought his eyes would cross from the shock. Is this what ‘affection’ meant to you? He couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand you. Were you really just lustful? Even after what you’d seen him—

You bit at his bottom lip, pulling slightly. Big eyes looking back at him. Your breath was already running away from you, adrenaline seemingly synonymous with Alastor. Staring up at him, you waited. His move.

It was his turn to blink. He looked off to his left, eyes swinging back to you. With a shrug, he leaned his body back towards yours. His hand slid down the front of your dress; red silk. A deer in the headlights, you tensed. The rare third option; fight, flight, freeze. Soon his fingers were tracing the lace of your stockings, climbing up the garter straps.

His eyes were studying your face. You didn’t want to give the wrong answer again, but at this point you weren’t sure any answer was right. This was taking a sudden turn and your foot was off the brake. You closed your eyes, opting out of the scrutiny of his stare. His hand met your stomach and began to slip down again. He rested it between your thighs, longer fingers and palm cupping the entirety of your sex.

Alastor struggled to decipher your expression. It was almost like a pout, but more subtle. You hadn’t said stop or pushed him away yet. Was he right? You were just… horny? As his hand slid back up and pried their way into your panties, you trembled.

It had been so long since someone else’s hand was on you. Someone whose hands you genuinely enjoyed, who you wanted to be on you.

Is that right? You wanted him to touch you?

Maybe it was the stare, or the smile. Probably just the adrenaline.

His hand found its place again, middle finger bending to part your folds and feel your wetness. You whimpered, hand coming to cover your own mouth.

“Is this what you wanted?” He said it low, a husky tone he didn’t have before.

No. Maybe. You nodded yes.

“Will you be satisfied now? No more tailing me?”

No. Probably not. Another nod.

His finger pushed in, and with a kind of greed you didn't recognize your hips ground down into his palm. He slipped in and out of you with ease. You had no idea when or why you got so wet.

“I always end up dripping around you, Alastor,” you whispered through your fingers. His ring finger joined. Why couldn’t you shut up? Why did you have to bring up, well, the murder?

“A common problem for those I take an interest in.”

Oh no. You moaned softly into your hand. Sharp mind made dull by his fingers so you didn’t, couldn’t, process his double meaning.

Oh no. The sounds of footsteps, a pair of lovers sneaking into the park for privacy. You heard their giggles, the sounds of kisses interrupting their walking.

“Shhh”, he breathed into your ear as he worked a third finger into your heat. One knuckle, two knuckles. A whimper. His hand came to press down over your own on your mouth, a second barrier for your mewling. You groaned, the sound coming from your throat.

Whispers. The silhouette of the two interlopers was visible through the willow’s curtains. You watched from over his shoulder, pussy clenching around him. Three knuckles deep, bottoming out.

Fuck it. You moaned freely into your hand, wiggling down onto his hand. Hips rolling, you let your little sounds of praise flow.

The couple laughed, “That’s the spirit!” A man said, a woman hushing him and pulling him away.

Alastor grinned into your neck, immensely amused. He would have better luck predicting a dice roll than your next move.

You hadn’t realized how hollow you’d been until now, feeling so full. When alone, you focused on just cumming, fingers on your clit and mind on memories. You never bothered much with anything else.

Your hunger intensified. You wanted more. Both hands reached for his crotch again, finding nothing there for you. You could have cried. How were you a wet mess pressed against a tree and he was soft as a newspaper in a rainstorm?

Your pride stung. Men usually stood at attention around you. A half sob into the air earned you a chuckle from Alastor. “It’s no reflection of you, darling.” His nose nudged your ear lobe, “I need a little different stimulation than most.”

“Do you play for the other team?” You considered how you could momentarily switch.

A louder laugh, “I don’t have a team.” He leaned back now to look at you. His freehand came to press on your lower stomach, gently pushing your womb down. Your brows knit, why did that feel so good? Hands going to the tree behind you for stability.

“Sure feels like you know how to play. This is-,” his hand switched from thrusting slowly in and out to moving front and back. It sent vibrations up into you. Your eyes rolled close. Shut up. Stop talking. Focus. Close.

He kissed around your open mouth, “Well, it’d be unamerican to not dabble. When necessary, or when the conditions are right.”

Double speak over, “Just tell me what to do to get you to fuck me.”

Alastor’s head fell back as he laughed earnestly, most likely alerting anyone in the immediate area. “Ha! No, this is more fun.”

“Oh fuck you,” you brought a hand around to your throbbing clit to quicken your release.

“Maybe next time, dear.” He took a second, fingers in you sliding around your walls in search of something before finding his place and continuing. Your breath noticeably changed, instead of panting you were practically holding it in. You needed the pressure, you needed something to squeeze that spring of pleasure down so it could snap back. As your face went flush, he kissed at your temple, “You look so pretty in red.”

“Oh god-,” Your head fell onto his chest, your joint effort bringing you to orgasm.

“A little late on Sunday for prayers, don't you think?”

A tiny scream into his suit pocket, his hand not stopping until your thighs finished twitching around him. Even after his hand stopped moving you gripped him by the wrist and rolled onto his fingers a few more times. The pleasure ebbing but still spiking every time he moved against you.

Ah, greed. That was it. He understood a little better. This wasn’t lust, not alone. You were definitely a mix of the two. With a sigh, you released your hold and let him slide out of you. Already you felt lonelier. Already you wished to start over.

With his dry hand he smoothed out your dress. You weren’t ashamed but you suddenly felt too embarrassed to look him the eye. But you did, hearing him hum as he sucked his fingers clean.

Why were you only ever in his mouth in the strangest ways?

“You always taste so sweet, dear. Now!” You wanted to say something clever and salacious like, ‘there’s more where that came from’ but he didn’t afford you the opportunity. He offered you his hooked arm, “It’s dangerous in the park at night. Let’s get you to a cab and on your way home.”

“Is this a hobby of yours?” Your legs were wobbly but otherwise fine. “Illegal activities in public?”

“Funny, I was just wondering the same of you. Stalking is a crime, dear.”

You bit your lip. “Touché.”

He flagged down a taxi, “Tell him where to go.” You slid into the back seat and half-whispered to the driver. Alastor leaned into the passenger side front window and after paying the man, went to close your door, “You’ve been an entertaining sparring partner. Goodbye, sweetheart.”

With a thud of the door and a growl of the engine, you were driving away from him. You could see him in the rear window. He didn’t dare to move, he didn’t need you following another step of his.

Which was unfortunate for him, as you were already scheming how to find him again.

༻Masterlist༺

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

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🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

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greenglowinspooks · 1 year ago

Text

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent

—

Tw: vivisection mention (not in detail), bad Fenton parents

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 2 here) (Pt. 3 here)

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

It was a dark, cold, miserable night, and Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, wanted nothing more than to be home, covered in blankets with the heater set to max as he worked on his most recent strain of fear toxin.

Instead he was at the docks, standing in as backup for the Penguin as he made a deal with some sleaze-bag smugglers. Something about some sort of body armor for his hired help. Crane hadn’t really paid much attention to the Penguin’s words, only caring enough to show up because of the reward.

But honestly, he couldn’t care less about the money at this point.

He was cold, and miserable, and his leg hurt something fierce (he’d had chronic pains ever since being mauled by Killer Croc some time ago), and he was so, so close to a breakthrough with his new toxin, and he really couldn’t stand the Penguin anyways. The only thing keeping him there was his reputation as a rogue.

Just as Crane was deciding that the whole ordeal wasn’t worth it, he heard the sound of a chase a few blocks down. With a deep, heavy sigh, he moved from the wall he had been leaning against, looming in the alleyway as he waited for the potential threat to reveal itself.

A few moments later, a boy came careening into the alleyway, sliding to a stop when he noticed the Scarecrow, his eyes growing impossibly wide. Beneath the mask, Jonathan grinned.

The boy swore, loudly, glancing between Scarecrow and the exit of the alleyway. As the echoing sound of footsteps grew closer, he chose to face the way he came, turning his back to Scarecrow.

What an idiotic way to get killed. Either the boy was a complete and utter fool, or there was something out there worse (to him, at least) than the Scarecrow.

Jonathan Crane tilted his head slowly, considering. He could just cut his losses and leave, Penguin be damned, or he could stay and see what had the boy so spooked.

Eventually, unfortunately enough, his curiosity won out. He shifted, bringing a hand to his side where he kept several canisters of fear toxin.

Crane had to bite back a groan when the boy’s pursuers entered the alleyway.

It was those damned idiots in white suits.

They had been tailing him for weeks now. They were easy enough to fight, but they were annoyingly persistent, and always seemed to have a way to find him. (Not to mention, the Riddler had strong opinions on their outfits, and if he had to hear the white-suit-in-Gotham rant one more time he was going to throttle him.)

Led by the men in white was a woman in a teal hazmat suit. Jonathan had seen her around, too, though less frequently than the others. He had honestly assumed that she was just a new C-tier rogue and avoided her like the plague.

Her eyes went wide as saucers when she saw Jonathan standing a few feet from the boy. No one moved a muscle.

“Danny,” the woman spoke softly. The boy, Danny, flinched, glancing between her and Scarecrow, “come on, we can talk about this. Your father and I only want to help you.”

He was running from his mother?

Scarecrow paused after that revelation, choosing to fully take in the boy’s appearance.

He was lean, almost gaunt, and wearing clothes several sizes too big for him, probably stolen. His entire body shook, from fear and cold both, and he clutched his stomach with one hand. At first, Scarecrow assumed that it was due to being out of breath, but as he looked closer he could see blood staining the dark fabric of the boy’s shirt.

He was injured, underweight, and running from his parents.

Something that felt a lot like rage swelled in Jonathan’s heart.

“Danny, you don’t get it! We’re so close now. We can fix you, and then we can go home, and everything can go back to normal,” she said, smiling in a way that was clearly supposed to be reassuring. She took a few steps forward, the men behind her clearly readying their weapons.

The boy backed away from his mother, inadvertently coming closer to Scarecrow.

He glanced up at Crane again, his blue eyes shining in fear, but not of him.

Sickening. Sickening.

In one fluid motion, Jonathan grabbed the boy by the wrist, pulling him behind him, and threw a large canister of fear gas into the group who had been chasing him.

The liquid in the container turned to gas as soon as it broke open, billowing out and filling half of the alleyway with a thick yellow smog.

The boy gasped, pulling his shirt over his face in a pathetic attempt to filter out the toxin. It would have to do, though, Scarecrow thought, rushing forward to force the boy’s aggressors to breathe in the gas.

The fight that the men put up was pitiful. The few individuals who didn’t breathe in the toxin immediately were clearly unused to fighting hand-to-hand, and dropped like flies in Scarecrow’s wake.

Just as the men began to spasm and shout in their terror, as if on cue, the familiar wail of police sirens reached the Scarecrow’s ears.

He heaved a heavy, irritated sigh, fingers twitching for a cigarette. He was trying to quit as of late, but he felt that after today, he might deserve one.

Though now was not the time to be thinking of cigarettes.

Jonathan approached the boy, mindful of any signs he might run off.

The boy didn’t seem to notice his approach in the slightest, just staring at the woman in the jumpsuit as she writhed on the ground.

Right. That would most likely be traumatic for a child to see, wouldn’t it?

Scarecrow moved in front of the boy, blocking his line of sight. The boy looked up at him now, his face completely blank.

“The police are on their way,” Scarecrow spoke, his voice low. The boy didn’t acknowledge him in any way.

“You don’t want to be here when they arrive, do you?”

After several moments pause, the boy shook his head slowly. He looked numb.

Dissociation, most likely.

“You’ll come with me, then.”

It was a statement, not a question, but he waited for the boy’s response regardless. As soon as he nodded in agreement, Jonathan lifted him up, carrying him out of the cold, miserable alleyway.

Scarecrow paused briefly to warn the Penguin of the incoming officers through the comm he had been given, and then he was off, weaving through the streets and alleyways towards his getaway car.

…

The drive back to his safe house was quiet. The boy didn’t look over at him once, instead opting to stare out ahead of him.

…

Luckily, they were able to make it back without detection. Jonathan ushered the boy into his small apartment, sitting him down on the dingy couch that had come with the lease.

“Wait here, alright?” Jonathan said, the boy nodding once in response.

With that, he retreated into the small kitchen, looking for some sort of warm beverage.

It was nearly three in the morning now, so coffee was out of the question. He was completely out of the hot chocolate he had bought for whenever Eddie or Harley came over for a visit, so that was out too.

He supposed the only option was his chamomile tea. Did teenagers like tea? He supposed it didn’t really matter, the kid was on the run from his parents in the house of a Gotham rogue. Surely he had bigger things to worry about.

Jonathan made the drinks quickly, leaving the kitchen with two mugs in hand. He gave one to the boy, who looked up at him in surprise, before settling into his own seat.

It was an incredibly comfortable old leather armchair that he had gotten some years ago and stubbornly held onto ever since. He usually had one of the rogues he was at least somewhat friendly with pick it up when he entered Arkham.

Whenever Eddie and Harley were over, they would call it his old man chair, and he would tell them to leave.

The two of them sat quietly for a while, drinking their tea slowly. It was clear that the boy was leaving whatever headspace he had slipped into, becoming more alert (and uncomfortable) by the second.

“So,” Crane began, pausing before speaking more quietly when he saw the boy flinch, “you knew them.”

It was not a question.

The boy nodded, curling in on himself. He held the mug close to his chest, no doubt soothed by the warmth.

“They’ve been following me around for some time now,” Crane continued, “and you’re going to tell me why.”

The boy looked up at him, a pained expression written all over his face.

“You won’t believe me,” he murmured, curling up even further.

His clothes were soaked. Jonathan should have put down a towel before letting him sit down.

“Sure I will,” he said, ignoring the blood and water seeping into his furniture.

The landlord would not be happy.

“It’s gonna sound crazy.”

“I’ve been to Arkham.”

The boy paused, before mumbling something quietly.

“Again? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said,” the boy huffed, quickly changing his tone when he remembered who he was talking to, “they…think you’re a ghost.”

“A ghost,” Crane repeated flatly.

“I told you it was gonna sound crazy!” The boy protested, before wrapping his arms around himself.

“Well,” Jonathan hummed, “it’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard in Gotham. Explain it to me.”

The boy paused, glancing up at his face, no doubt looking for some sign of mockery. He found none.

Then, he opened his mouth, and explained everything he could.

Ghosts, the portal to another world, the GiW, his parents. It was all incredibly far-fetched, but also far too consistent to be made up on the spot, and Crane could tell that the boy genuinely believed what he was saying.

“…but, if you don’t believe me, fine. I know it probably sounds stupid and fake,” he mumbled, looking away.

“I’ll believe you for now,” Crane said. The boy whipped his head up, staring at him in shock.

“If I do trust that what you’re saying is true, though, then why do I show up on their equipment as a ghost? I’m not dead, and never have been.”

“Um,” the boy hummed, looking somewhat nervous. Understandable, really.

“Well, have you by any chance been involved in any lab accidents recently..?”

Jonathan Crane froze, his face dropping. The boy noticed his change in demeanor, flinching slightly.

“Penguin,” he hissed out, his voice slightly inhuman. “Cobblepot, that motherfucker.”

“Wait—calm down! The angrier you get, the easier you’ll show up on the radar!”

Crane glared down at the boy, seething with rage. He once again flinched, looking away from him. With an extraordinary amount of effort, Jonathan slumped back down in his chair, breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself.

When he cracked his eyes back open, the boy was openly staring at him, curiosity written all over his face.

As soon as he noticed Crane looking back at him, he glanced away, straightening in his seat.

“Well, you’ve given me a lot to think about. In the morning, we’re going to discuss this in a lot more detail,” he said, standing up with slow movements. The boy stood as well, hands clasped together.

“For now, though, you’re going to let me take a look at that wound of yours, and then you’re going to take a shower and go to bed.”

The rest of the night went rather quickly.

The boy was rather hesitant to show him his wound, instead assuring him that it had been properly sewn up and that he was fine. Crane was having none of it, though, and gave him a once-over just in case.

It was, very clearly, the kind of cut used during an autopsy. Danny didn’t offer any information, so Crane had to assume that he was either back from the dead, or he had been vivisected. Either was possible in Gotham.

At the very least, Danny hadn’t lied about the stitches, and the wound was already beginning to heal.

With that, Danny showered quickly (he leapt out with a shriek the moment the hot water ran out), and went to bed in borrowed clothes without much complaint.

Thus, Jonathan was left with cold water for his shower, and slept on the still-damp couch so that the boy could have a bed to sleep in. Somehow, he found that he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would.

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp fic #liminal scarecrow #AWWAWAW IM DONE #FINALLY #this was super fun to write btw #edited while I was sick in bed so if the paving’s still bad there’s not much I can do about it HDKFNSJDJF #*pacing

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another-random-paradise · 7 months ago

Note

Hii!! If you’d wanna, can you make short headcanons about the house wardens except Kalim and Idia with a reckless reader, like (for example); is chasing after grim for doing something stupid and sees a shorter but dangerous short cut and takes it, almost breaking a leg but they don’t bc their crush (not bf yet) catches them with their magic, (I believe he only said five people, but if not five, I would like if it had Malleus, Leona riddle, and Azul)

(btw I really like your writing! Keep it up, but don’t forget to take care of yourself <33)

A Rewarding Chase

Tysm for the request and the kind words!! It was very fun to write! I took the chasing grim idea and ran with it- made sure to try and not make it to repetitive!! I do have a four character limit, if you want the others too feel free to send a second request (I wouldn't mind, i had so much fun writing this-)! And take care of yourself too <3

---------------------------------------------------------

Reckless Reader being saved by him while chasing grim

Characters: Malleus, Leona, Riddle, Azul

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: Mentions of possible Injuries(Nobody actually gets Hurt)

Malleus

-It's already rather late, Malleus is on another one of his evening walks.. when he suddenly hears someone running, and you shouting

-He decides to check it out, because chances are, you're being reckless again. Also because he would get to see you again :) Nevermind that he saw you earlier during classes

-When he does, he, just as expected, saw you chasing after Grim once again, who knew what the little guy had done this time? He decided to just watch at first- at least until you once again decided to do something awfully reckless

-Grim decided to go down a steep staircase, and instead of running after him, you decide to jump down the stairs, in oder to catch up faster. And if there is one thing Malleus knew, it was the fact that humans are rather fragile, and that you would break your legs doing this Jump

-While very much shocked, he acted almost on impulse, the young fae Prince pulls out his Pen and stops you mid air. Being the powerful mage that he is, you can't wriggle yourself out of his magics grip. Once he sat you down at the top of the staircase, he was kind enough to also get Grim back

-A soft smile settles on his face as he questions your antiques, wondering if you weren't aware of your own fragility. You are, you just decide to ignore it!

-After sending Grim home, he asks you to join him on his nightly walk, he would love to know more about your impulsive decisions! He really just wants to know more about you in general. And in typical Malleus fashion, he doesn't even notice the faint blush on your cheeks!

-He tells you to call him, should Grim cause trouble again, he knows he wouldn't be able to change your reckless nature. And he doesn't want to- it is another part of you, and he loves all of you. He just doesn't want you to get hurt <3

Leona

-He has never been awake this fast.

-Leona was just once again napping in the botanical garden- When the sound of shouting woke him up, yours and Grim's shouting to be precise. He didn't think much of it, this happend pretty often after all, but nonetheless he decided to lazily open up one eye

-And thank the seven he did, because now he was very much awake and staring at you, as you climbed one of the tallest trees in the entirety of the garden.

-Turns out, Grim has decided to climb up a tree, and you being you, went after him. Well, people tend to be heavier than cats, so eventually a branch broke underneath you.

- The tree you were on wasn't at all small, the fall would very much end in multiple broken bones, if not worse!

-He quickly pulled out his pen, catching you. Grim got away in the end, while Leona scolded you told you off. He complained about your antics interrupting his nap, and that he won't catch you next time. He absolutely will, and the actual reason he's upset about your antics is that it worry's him

-He might just force you to stay with him, so that you, and i quote; "Won't cause any more trouble", but really he just wants to be close to you. But then again, could it really be considered forcing, if you willingly agree? who'd say no to napping with their crush, after all ;)

-He might occasionally glance at you, while trying to go back to napping. He isn't entirely sure how he fell for someone as reckless as you, but you know what they say: Opposites attract :)

Riddle

-It was just supposed to be a normal unbirthday party.

-Riddle, of course, invited you, like he always does! Pretty much the entire dorm except maybe Deuce know about his crush on you by now And you in Grim were pretty much a package, you invite one, the other comes along.

-Riddle doesn't mind, of course! He does Who was he to demand time alone with you, it's not like your dating! He really wishes you were... were it not for Grim being such a trouble maker

-Grim had decided to throw a tantrum after not getting "fed enough", as in, he got the same amount of tarts as everybody else, before running off. You run after him, and in turn Riddle goes after you, as he already knows how reckless you can be

-And thank the seven that he did, as just as he finally catches up, he sees you trying to jump over a Rose bush to get to Grim- Sure it would break no bones, but the amount of thorns could severely cut you, and leave scars, or worse get infected!- The small Redhead is panicking to say the least

-He quickly takes his pen and uses magic to pull you back, almost making you bump into him in his panic!

-He scolds you almost immediately, if you were a part of his dorm he would have collared you! He wouldn't have, this man plays favorites Though you can't help but notice how not even once he brought up how you could have ruined the Roses or your Uniform.. All he cared bout was your health! And that made you happy, I mean, your crush actually cares about you!

-After helping you catch Grim, the party was already over, so he bids you farewel, sending you back to ramshackle, before both of you return to your respective rooms to comprehend the situation and blush :)

Azul

-How someone as organized as him could fall for someone as reckless as you? He doesn't know, but he did.

-This is proven as, just like always, he personally came to attend to you when you came to eat dinner at the Mostro lounge. He says it's because it's a busy night, but really it's an excuse to see you! And you don't question it because you get to spend more time with him because of it!

-But alas, Grim didn't wanna behave, so after being told that they were out of his favorite food, he took of and somehow climbed onto one of the lamps.

-You weren't having it, not today. You usually try to hold your reckless nature back in front of Azul, not wanting to terrify your crush, but Grim's tantrum just ruined the great conversation you were having with Azul ,ordering desert!

-So, you climb onto your seat and leap at the lamb! Considering you aren't focused on landing properly, but on catching grim, chances are very high you'll Hurt yourself, most likely straining your ankle

-So, Azul being a Gentleman, as well as not wanting to taint his reputation by letting a guest get hurt He'll hate himself if he just let's you get hurt, uses his magic to catch you, as he isn't the strongest physically

-He sends the eels after Grim while taking you to the VIP lounge. You think he's about to ban you for live, but actually he checks up on you, making sure you weren't injured in the process of the jump, as well as that his magic had no side effects

-You do have to stop him from banning grim for live

-He may just draft up a contract about being more careful with your antics, or to at least think twice before acting, you don't even realize how much you worry him! You most likely refuse, knowing that you can't just stop yourself from, well, being yourself. But he does make you sign a contract to not speak about what happened.

-You leave, smiling to yourself, now knowing that your crush cares about you, as he sits in his office blushing about the whole situation, just hoping the twins don't walk in

First Riddle request!! Very exited because I love the mini Tyrant <3 Also, for Azul's part, for one line, I wanted to originally write 'Your crush' but decided to change it to Azul, and almost published this with it saying 'your Azul' I-

Feedback is welcomed, just be nice!

Remember to drink water! Have a nice day/night <3

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solarmorrigan · 3 months ago

Text

Tastes Better on You

For the @steddie-spooktober day 3 prompt: Apples Rated: T | Words: 736 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, fluff, Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson have a sibling relationship, modern AU, it barely matters though, it's mostly just so we can worry a little less about homophobia Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Cold weather agrees with Steve, Eddie thinks.

He stands back and takes a moment to appreciate it: the color in Steve’s cheeks, the sweater pulling snug across his shoulders, the way the breeze ruffles his hair. He stands at the edge of the pumpkin patch, arms crossed over his chest, a little smile on his face as he watches the kids pick the field over for victims to be carved later that afternoon. He’s limned perfectly in afternoon sunlight, golden and shining and beautiful.

And all Eddie’s.

Eddie shakes himself out of his reverie and heads back over with the spoils of his trip to the refreshment stand.

“Your drink, milord,” he blusters, holding a cup of hot cider up for Steve to take.

Steve blinks in surprise at the cup suddenly thrust into his field of vision before he takes it with a smile and a “thanks, babe,” further rewarding Eddie with a kiss on the cheek.

Eddie beams. He hadn’t wanted anything from the concession stand himself—he knows they’ll be roasting the pumpkin seeds later in the evening and he knows he’s going to eat a metric fuckton of them, so he might as well save room—but this right here is exactly why he’d volunteered to go get something for Steve. He settles back into place next to him and looks out over the field.

“Are you going to pick out a pumpkin, too?” Eddie asks.

Steve, caught mid-sip, hums and shrugs. “I don’t know,” he hedges once he’s swallowed. “I don’t really like cleaning them out, getting all that slimy shit on your skin. Feels weird.” He gives a theatrical little shudder, and Eddie grins.

Back in high school, everyone had been able to see the deliberate care Steve had put into his clean-cut appearance, but Eddie never would have guessed that he could be downright persnickety at times. He loves being privy to it.

“How about I help?” he offers. “I’ll deal with the slimy shit, and we can carve it together.”

Steve sends him a sidelong glance, cautious and considering; he’s still thrown sometimes by how genuine Eddie is in his interest, in his affection. He isn’t used to having people meet him halfway, but he’s getting there.

“We could do that, yeah,” he finally says, hiding his smile in another sip of cider. “This is really good, by the way, thanks.”

“The cider?”

“Mm,” Steve hums around the rim of the cup.

“Mind if I try some?” Eddie asks.

Shaking his head, Steve swallows and offers Eddie the cup. Eddie has other ideas.

He gently pushes the cup to the side and leans in, catching Steve’s mouth in a kiss. His tongue darts out, sweeping across Steve’s lips, and he tastes like crisp apples and warm spices and bright sunshine.

“You could’ve just tried some from the cup,” Steve murmurs when Eddie pulls back, even smiling as he is.

“Tastes better on you,” Eddie says, before pressing back in for another kiss.

Steve opens right up to him, and Eddie chases the taste of sweet-spiced apples right into his mouth. Steve’s free hand finds purchase on Eddie’s waist while Eddie reaches up to cup Steve’s jaw, tilting his head just so, searching for a better angle, when–

“Steve!” Dustin’s voice cuts across the field, pulling both Steve’s and Eddie’s focus from the kiss. “Quit sucking face and come help me with my pumpkin!”

Rollin his eyes, Steve huffs out a sigh and, regrettably, pulls away from Eddie.

“You want to stick a ‘please’ in there, Henderson?” he calls back.

“Please stop being gross,” Dustin snarks.

“What’s that?” Steve cups a hand behind his hear. “Sounds kind of like someone who doesn’t want help carrying their stupidly huge pumpkin.”

Dustin, stationed in front of what is truly a very large pumpkin, lets his head fall back with a groan. “Steve,” he intones, “will you please come help me with this pumpkin.”

“Yeah, alright,” Steve calls back. He turns to Eddie and presses the cup of cider into his hand. “I’ll be back. Pick a good one for us while I’m gone.” He pecks another kiss to Eddie’s cheek and sets off across the field.

Slowly, Eddie sips from the cup and watches as Steve and Dustin argue about the best way to get the pumpkin to the van, a smile and the taste of apples lingering on his lips.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie-spooktober #solar wrote #eddiesteve

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bluegiragi · 2 years ago

Text

FAQ + COD series masterpost (MONSTER AU + SOAPBOX UNDER THE CUT)

CONTENT WARNING: This blog contains explicit 18+ content! If you are a minor, please do not follow or interact!

(This counts for people who are 17 as well, 18 is truly the minimum age I'd be alright with.)

Commissions: [CLOSED]

Twitter

Patreon (NSFW and early access)

Frequently Asked Questions:

(read through the #askbox tag before asking to see if I’ve already answered! repeat questions and spam will be deleted.)

1. What program and brush do you use?

Clip Studio Paint, and I alternate between two brushes: fat sketcher 2 from stealthnacho’s brushset, and short vertical bar (dual brush) from sparth’s art pack 1

2. What tablet do you use?

I use a Surface Pro 8, which is a laptop where you can draw directly onto the screen. However, this is a really pricey purchase and before I had it, I used an Intuous Tablet for 6 years and loved it.

3.Can I repost your art on other platforms?

You can, but please credit me every time!

4.Can I write a fic/make fanart/ make an OC based on your AU?

Yeah sure!

5.Have you thought of what monster [insert character] would be? / Will you be adding [insert character] to the monster AU?

If I haven’t talked about certain characters already, I probably won’t at all. And I don’t have anything against these characters, but it’s more like I’m largely indifferent and have 0 thoughts. Do what you will, I made my AU as a sandbox for others to play in too, so you decide what to do with these characters!

6.Will you ever draw Konig/Soapbox again?

If I feel like it, probably! But the brainrot where it was the main focus has definitely passed <3

7. Can I use your art for c.ai/ character bots?

I'd really prefer it if you didn't, sorry! I take a largely anti-AI stance on most things now.

MONSTER 141 AU

extra | team 141 character introductions

extra | konig + horangi character introductions

extra | las almas crew + graves character introduction

part ? | price/gaz rooftop talks

part 1 | bag of tricks

part 2 | ghost/soap muzzle

part 3 | price+ghost check in

part 4 | ghost + soap + gaz in action (part 1)

part 5 | ghost + soap + gaz in action (part 2)

part 6 | ghost + soap + gaz in action (part 3)

part 7 | sketchdump 1

part 8 | ghost/soap chasing tail

part 9 | soap/fantasy!ghost (full vers on patreon)

part 10 | ghost/soap docile

part 11 | ghost/price due diligence

part 11.5 | ghost/soap due diligence (nsfw - only available on patreon)

part 12 | ghost/price holding back pt 1

part 13 | ghost/price holding back pt 2

part 14 | soap/gaz doing things blind (only available on patreon)

part 15 | konig/horangi clear

part 16 | sketchdump 2

part 17 | debrief

part 18 | ghost/soap work it out (part 1)

part 19 | ghost/soap work it out (part 2)

part 20 | cockatrice (part 1)

part 21 | cockatrice (part 2)

part 22 | sketchdump 3/puppy playtime

part 23 | new moon (part 1)

part 24 | new moon (part 2)

part 25 | new moon (part 3)

part 26 | open book

part 27 | face to a name

part 28 | before

part 29 | that’s an order

part 30 | diplomacy

part 31 | mr riley

part 32 | human

SOAPBOX SAGA (SOAP/GHOST/KONIG SERIES)

part 1 | konig/soap first meeting

part 2 | ghost/soap kid and a cookie jar (full vers on patreon)

part 3 | ghost/konig spar pt 1

part 4 | ghost/konig spar pt 2

extra | ghost + konig facecanons

part 5 | ghost/soap heart to heart

part 6 | ghost/konig grow a pair

part 7 | konig/soap do something

part 8 | konig/soap/ghost rough part 1 (full vers on patreon)

part 9 | konig/soap/ghost rough part 2 (full vers on patreon)

part 10 | trio feat. price mission start

part 11 | trio feat!unmasked konig

part 12 | trio feat! unmasked konig pull yourself together

part 13 | konig fantasises (full vers on patreon)

part 14 | ghost/konig feat. soap private lesson

part 15 | ghost/konig/soap lieutenant’s room

part 16 | ghost/konig/soap good for us (full vers on patreon)

#soapbox saga #monster 141 au #got soapbox from whisperwarm #my partner in crime in spreading this polycule agenda fandomwide #added monster au since its probably gonna go on for a while as well #god i wish lists could collapse #i added an faq!!!!#giragi art

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heerinnie · 11 months ago

Text

𝐌𝐯𝐧𝐜𝐡

𝐒.𝐉𝐘

SYNOPSIS: Jake is a munch. That’s it.

WARNING: Pure filth, no plot basically just porn, oral (f receiving), Jake finishes untouched, fem!reader, oral fixation.

WC:

^^ NSFW UNDER CUT, MINORS DNI (not proofread)

Read under cut

Jake is a mean menace. More than a menace actually, he’s an evil fuck because as soon as you two became official he would use any excuse to get you riled up enough to the point of suffocating him with your plush thighs chasing that sweet release. He's like a chaotic mastermind- or rather what you call him ‘Horny Megamind’.

He’s so pussy drunk he needs it every day, every morning and every night. When you're out at a party or even visiting his childhood home in Australia he will find time to nestle between your legs like a baby bird in its mother's nest. Your cunt is like alcohol to him.

Jake was such a pussy driven maniac that if he didn't get a taste of you he would become cranky and agitated. He described the feeling as if bugs were crawling under his skin and he was dying. The only solution was to treat him like your good, pretty boy and give him his reward to satisfy his craving.

As much as he loved teasing you, the moment you would tease him back he would become visibly annoyed and shocked. You could see him biting back any words or noises that threatened to escape from his mouth, as he poked inside his cheek with his tongue. On the other hand, for you, it really was entertaining to watch, especially when you were surrounded by your group of friends or worse, at a family dinner. The way he tried to stifle his annoyance and soften his growing bulge was both amusing for you and embarrassing for him, making you eager to know what he’s planned to do about it once you reach your shared apartment.

Things only got more interesting when you two talked about things that you’d want to try out in the bedroom. Your mind scattered to times your eyes caught Jake mid-munch rutting his very obvious and painfully hard boner against your bed frame trying to get himself the same release he’s giving you at the moment. Personally you found the thought of Jake being so in love with you that he could cum just by eating you out so attractive that you had to mention it to him, no friction no touch, just him thrusting his bare hips up trying to get attention to his pulsing dick, only to be met with the nothingness of air whilst pathetically grinding his nose into the clit above his face.

You made a promise to yourself that you would eventually convince him to try cumming without touch, and the thought of him doing so of his own free will fills you with joy. However, you know that once he sets his sights on something, he becomes obsessed with it like when he was so adamant on making you squirt. So for the time being you kept that fantasy to yourself, waiting for the perfect opportunity to present itself.

AN: okay I'm actually back now, I'm planning a long fic about doctor!hoon and just know you'll be sobbing at it ☺️ And this is just a filler for those who were waiting, also urmh2 is in the planning I'm out of ideas for the part 2 plot but I do know who i want in the LOVE TRIANGLE?! (ik you weren't expecting that were you 😍)

anyways thanks for reading mvnch <3

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yourlastbraincell-kiwi · 7 months ago

Note

another chase davenport fic???

A/N: Of course! I would love to make another one for you guys. I’m happy that you liked the first one!

Here’s another Chase fan fiction for ya! It’s a little on the short end, but I hope it’s still good!

Might be typos!!

Pairing: Chase Davenport x Reader

——————🧬——————

“Hey, guys.” I smiled, as I unbuckled my seat and walked out of the hydro-loop.

They all greeted me, as I walked in. “What are you doing here?” Leo asked as they all three of them walked over to me.

I shrug, “Just wanted to drop by, surprise everyone.”

“Well, color me surprised.” Bree said and we exchanged a hug.

“Well, you can color me blue. I think it really goes with my complexion.” Adam said, looking into an imaginary mirror. I shook my head and hugged both him and Leo.

“Where’s Chase?”

“Not sure, said he had something big to show us.”

“Well, I know it’s not his height.” Adam said, walking over to us after grabbing a water from the bar table.

“Guys, I’m ready to show you what I’ve been working on.” Chase stated, and I revealed myself from behind in Adam, Bree and Leo.

“Got room for one more?”

“(Y/N).” He smiled wide and hugged me tight. “What are you doing here? Thought you be on the main land, for a couple more days.”

“Well, I couldn’t wait, and had my trip cut short. So, what was that thing you were showing them?”

“Oh, I.. uh..” He said stumbling over his words, “It’s in the our sleeping quarters, but I need to put the finishing touches on everything.”

“I thought it was done already?”

“It is, just want to make sure it perfect.” He said and ran into the training room.

“Was that weird to you guys?”

“Not from how he acts normally, I’d say that was pretty normal.” Leo responded and the rest nodded their heads in agreement.

—————

We all sat down in the cafeteria area, and ate a light snack. “Hey, don’t you guys think he should be done with the finishing touches, on what he is working on?”

“Yeah, it’d had been a long time.”

“That’s how Chase always is, give him around 2-3 business days.”

“I don’t have time to wait.”

“Hey, wait, wait. Maybe give him a couple more minutes. You know how he needs to work alone.” Bree said holding me back.

“Well, I can help him out. He seems to like when I do that.” I brushed past Bree and Leon quickly ran up to stand in front of me.

“Bree, come on! I need to check on him.”

“Bree is right, (Y/N). He told us himself that he needs peace and quiet.”

“Well, I can still check in and see if he needs anything.”

I walk past them again, this time Adam stands in my ways. “Adam, don’t even try it. Try me, and you won’t get anymore food from the main land.”

I replied and Adam stepped back and they look at him, like he was crazy. “I’m sorry guys, she drives a hard bargain.”

I finally make my way to the room where they all had their sleeping capsules. “Chase, do you need help— Woah..”

I come into the room and looked around. It had been decked out with streamers and confetti littering the floor. Along with everything else you’d see at a party.

It was just so amazing and incredible.

“Guys! You weren’t supposed to let her see yet.”

“Sorry, but she threatened me with food. And you know how important it is to me.” Adam replied and went to sit on the couch.

“Chase, what’s all this for?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise, but it’s for you. All of it is.”

“Even the cake?” I said pointed over to the cake that Adam and Leo were devouring.

“Yes, even the— Adam! Leo!”

“Hey, we deserve a reward after helping you out today.” Leo said, and they continued to eat the cake.

I shake my head with a laugh and noticed that Chase looked sorta down. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just… I wanted this to be surprise. And it’s all coming apart.”

“No, it’s not.” I said, and as I say that the streamers that were tapped to the sleeping capsules started to lose its stick and the ‘happy birthday’ banner had fell to the floor.

“See?”

“Chase. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter, how many streamers fall or if my cake is half eaten.” I started as I took his face in my hands and looked him in the eyes. “It’s the thought that counts and this was very thoughtful of you. Thank you so much.”

I reassured him and he began to smile a little and it made me smile seeing him do it. I let my hands drop and he took my head in his hands and placed a kiss to my forehead.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Let’s enjoy it while we can shall we?” He held his arm out, and I looped my arm around his.

“We shall.”

#chase davenport x reader #chase davenport #lab rats elite force #lab rats elite force x reader #lab rats x reader #lab rats #wattpad #x reader #black!reader #fluff #black!fem!reader #black!writer #all inclusive #fluffed up #cute imagine

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

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Heyy

Can I request something fluffy with tasm!Peter where the reader refuses to kiss him cause she's coming down with a cold (definitely not me projecting myself into this) and peter doesn't care cause he loves her kisses sick or not

Thank you for your writing *lots of hugs*

-🔮

Oh no, hope you feel better soon lovely! Thanks for requesting <3

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 633 words

“Baby.” Peter’s trying to sound serious, but he’s giggling, chasing you about as you try to evade him. “C’mon, just one.”

“No!” You dodge his hands, dashing around the bed to put something solid between you. “This is for your own good.”

“I don’t care.” He pouts. “Listen, I’m gonna get sick anyway. Why delay the inevitable and deprive me in the process?”

You give him a hard look. “You’re not going to get sick if you keep away from me.”

Peter scoffs. “Babe, please. That’s not happening.”

You cross your arms. “You don’t want this cold,” you reason with him. “It hasn’t even set in all the way for me yet, and I can tell it’s gonna suck.”

He softens. “That’s what I’m talking about, sweetheart. There’s no way I’m not going to take care of you while you’re sick, so why bother with this? Let’s just cut to the chase.”

You hesitate. It really isn’t easy to resist him, looking so soft and kissable with his hair all ruffled from the wind outside and that slight pout to his lips. He’s making his eyes extra big to get to you, you know it. But you’re trying to spare him.

You start to shake your head, but Peter makes to dash around the bed, and you do the first thing you can think of to avoid him, diving under the covers.

Peter chuckles darkly, and you feel him crawling on top of you, his hands prodding at your form through the fabric.

“Bad idea,” he tuts. “I’ve got you right where I want you now.”

“Shut up,” you say, but you’re unable to keep from laughing as his fingers find your side, making you squeal and squirm away from his touch. “Stop! All you have to do is leave me alone for a few days, and then I’ll get better and we can kiss all you want.”

He hums disapprovingly. “You’re asking too much of me.”

He straddles you, hands climbing toward the top of the sheets. You curl your fingers into the fabric determinedly, tensing in anticipation of his attack, but then Peter hesitates.

“Honey,” he says, voice softening slightly. Even though he can’t see you, you narrow your eyes, mistrustful of this change in mood. “You’re only not kissing me because you’re getting sick, right? Like, if you weren’t, you’d want to?”

You hesitate, bemused. “Of course,” you say slowly.

“So you’re cheating both of us by holding out, huh?”

You only scoff, but apparently that’s enough confirmation for Peter, because he uncovers you with one good tug of the sheets, tearing them from your grasp.

“Great, just wanted to be sure.” He holds you in place with a hand at your jaw, pressing his lips to yours with a smack.

“Peter!” you huff, glaring up at him, but he only pats your cheek consolingly.

“There we go, baby, I’m all contaminated,” he says satisfiedly. “Now will you give it up and let me be close to you?”

“Not if it means rewarding your lack of self-preservation,” you grumble, but Peter only rolls his eyes, smiling at you like you’re silly.

“If you’re asking if I’m always going to want to take care of you when you’re sick, then yes,” he says. “Not sure there’s anything you can do to stop me, sweet thing. I know it must be awful, though, to have a boyfriend who loves you and your kisses so much.”

He’s trying to guilt you. It’s working, your eye roll nothing more than performative as you warm to the idea of letting him take care of you while you ride out this cold. Peter can tell, grinning down at you smugly.

“Kiss?” he asks, all but batting his eyelashes at you. “Please?”

This time, you oblige him.

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axelsagewrites · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober 2023 List

Welcome to my first ever kinktober, a month long of smutty drabbles and one shots. Hope you all enjoy and if you want added to a charecter/fandom tag list so you dont miss anything let me know <3

NSFW under cut

Masterlist Here

Day one: discrete fun with Robb Stark – deciding to take his teasing to a new level Robb decides to take the sex toys out of the bedroom

Day two: marking with Jace Velaryon – jealous is an understatement for what Jace is feeling so he decides to fix his problems by showing everyone who you belong to

Day three: phone sex with Jamie Tartt – even though he loved to play the long nights away from you were almost impossible to bare so he often found himself hitting call at late hours of the night

Day four: body worship with Podrick Payne – Podrick feels honoured just to be able to touch your body and wants you to hear his praises

Day five: role reversal with James Potter – James is used to being in charge, but things change when one night you decide to give him a taste of his own teasing medicine

Day six: over stimulation with Jon Snow – Jon is eager to please but even more eager to make you a mumbling mess who doesn’t know their own name by the end

Day seven: stepcest/cam girl au with Daemon Targaryen – after Daemons new stepdaughter moves in daemon finds out her naughty little secret

Day eight: dubcon kidnap au with Ramsay Bolton – Ramsay can’t stand the idea of such a pretty creature going unappreciated any longer

Day nine: edging/orgasm denial with Rhanerya Targaryen – since you’re used to get everything you want Rhaenyra decides to show you good things come to those who wait

Day ten: throne/semi public sex with Danerys Targaryen – being the queen is a stressful job and it is your job to help your queen relax even if that means risking getting caught

Day eleven: knife play with Ivar the Boneless – people whisper and wonder how someone so sweet could marry someone so angry, but they don’t see what Ivar does when you’re underneath him

Day twelve: exhibitionism with Tormund – while wildlings talk freely about sex Tormund enjoys watching your blush at even the mention of it making it even more fun to tease you when you come to tend to his wounds

Day thirteen: primal play with Remus Lupin – usually when Remus runs around the forest its not by choice but tonight, he is chasing his favourite prey

Day fourteen: sex toys and teasing with Sansa Stark – after finding a sleek pink vibrator in her top drawer you decide to see what it can really do

Day fifteen: voyeurism with Aegon Targaryen – while you are visiting his family Aegon discovers a secret passage and what he accidentally sees through the cracks makes him want you instantly

Day sixteen: caught in the act with Roy Kent – when Roy came home all he wanted to do was curl up in bed with you but when he heard a buzzing from under the sheets his plans took a very different turn

Day seventeen: mommy kink with Cersei Lannister – while she may be rough and callous to most others Cersei finds herself dotting on her sweet girl in her chambers each night

Day eighteen: corruption kink with Alicent Hightower – a new septa arrive at court but none of the thoughts on Alicent’s minds are holy

Day nineteen: choking with Bjorn Ironside – you may have been captured by the enemies, but the punishment Bjorn gives you is starting to feel like a reward

Day twenty: bondage/wax play with Margaery Tyrell: people may whisper about her brother’s bedroom habits but none of them see the things she gets up to with her ladies’ maid

Day twenty-one: face fucking with Cregan Stark: to gain his loyalty Cregan demands that you earn it, and he enjoys watching the tears streak down your face as you do

Day twenty-two: daddy kink with Sirius Black – the word just slipped out one time but now it’s all Sirius wants to hear from your lips

Day twenty-three: brat taming with Sandor Clegane – after growing sick of a princess’s bratty attitude Sandor decides to teach her how to behave

Day twenty-four: thigh riding/dry humping with Ragnar Lothbrok – after taking a Christian girl prisoner he decides to show you the pleasure a heathen can feel

Day twenty-five: breeding kink with Ned Stark – there is a reason why Ned has so many children and it’s not as noble as many assume

Day twenty-six: collaring with Aemond Targaryen – not wanting to share Aemond decides to invest in something to show that you’ll always be his and only his

Day twenty-seven: double penetration with Jamie Tartt and Roy Kent: they both like you and when they came to settle it once and for all neither of them expected this out come

Day twenty-eight: mutual masturbation with Oberyn Martell – you always heard that the dornish were more sex positive than most, but you hadn’t expected Oberyn Martell of all people to show you just how good it could feel

Day twenty-nine: face riding with Heleana Targaryen – while Heleana appeared shy outside of your chambers when you, her maid, came to tend to her at night she was anything but shy

Day thirty: teacher student au with Jamie Lannister – he knew it was wrong to ask you to stay after class but after one too many short, short skirts he could no longer keep his thoughts at bay

Day thirty-one: orgy/group sex with Aegon, Aemond, Jace, Daemon, and Rhaenyra since after all sharing is caring

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sommerregenjuniluft · 10 months ago

Text

@jegulus-microfic march 4 - hair - 1125 words - NSFW

aka t4t jeggy for ino @veryinnovative <3

“Nah uh,” Regulus chides, tightening his fingers in the mess of James’ hair, pulling his head back, “Don’t start again.”

James whines pitifully, big baby cow brown eyes welling with tears where he’s blinking long lashes up at Regulus pleadingly, trying to get his movements back under control.

“No squirming, baby,” Regulus presses out between shudders as he keeps riding James’ bare thigh, small cock gliding back and forth easily with all the slick and sweat between the two of them.

The hand on Regulus’ hip twitches and James throws his head back into the mountain of pillows keeping him up with a whimper.

“I know, darling, I know,” Regulus coos, caressing James cheek with his free hand, leaning closer, letting his breath spill over James’ parted mouth, the roll of his hips never relenting, “But we said no cuming for a while, didn’t we?”

James’ eyes squeeze shut with another helpless noise, his thumb digging into the soft spot of Regulus’ waist harshly, “Mmgh, baby, can we—please—please, need–”

Regulus tugs at the roots of black hair again, harder this time and James cuts off with a high-pitched sound.

He repeats, pointedly, “What did we say?”

“We said–” James swallows roughly, eyes continuously dipping down to watch where Regulus’ pink folds slide over the tan muscle of James thick thigh, smearing pre-cum and getting the dark, coarse hair at both their centers obscenely wet, “We said I only get to cum once you have.”

His voice is a thin, fragile little thing that Regulus wants to cup his palms around carefully and then devour down his throat, swallow it in one big gulp, letting it slide down the length of his tongue like the sweetest nectar. It whacks Regulus with giddy shivers and he leans in to lick into James’ mouth as reward.

His boyfriend trembles helplessly through it, always so much more turned on with just that little bit of oral stimulation, moaning and whimpering against Regulus’ tongue. He stays miraculously still all the way through it and Regulus parts their lips with a satisfied hum, scratching at the back of James’ skull soothingly as this one chases after his mouth.

“Look at you doing so good,” Regulus purrs, frotting closer in James’ lap and feeling his thigh slot farther between James’ legs.

He draws in a sharp breath, one hand immediately fisting in the sheets at their side, “Baby.”

“Ssh,” Regulus dismisses his protest, fighting hard not to let his lips twitch into a devilish grin, “Gotta get closer to you to make myself cum, baby. You understand, don’t you?”

Another roll of hips, more uncoordinated the more Regulus feels the coil in his gut tightening and he can’t help the delirious little chuckle that presses from his chest when James keens, visibly troubled about finally receiving friction but still under the confines of their agreement.

“Regulus,” James presses out, chest heaving with the challenging task of reigning in his arousal. He’s glowing with sweat, beading on the stubble over his top lip, mouth kiss bitten, swollen and red, and eyes shining warmly with the afternoon sun coming in from the window over Regulus’ shoulder. There’s a now permanent knit to his full brows, sheen of tears layered over his agonizingly prettily eyes and a look on James’ face like he’s equal measures despaired and also couldn’t love Regulus any more than he does in this very moment.

It gives Regulus his own little high, cunt pulsing, cock twitching and with a sudden lap of arousal washing over him, making his skin prickle, he’s pushed so much closer to the edge. Regulus blames it on that then, he thinks, stuttering through a moan of his own, what comes out of his mouth next, “Don’t you wanna be a good boy for me?”

He accompanies it by thumbing at the swell of James’ lower lip and watches closely as the scale tips for his boyfriend. Equal parts panic and arousal dumped into both cups on either side of the brass device, simply making it fall off the table entirely. Watching as James’ eyes roll back and he’s forcefully shoved over the edge.

It looks like James tries to put up a fight against it at first, breath hitching precariously, short little pants and puffs, high pitched noises but with every thrust of Regulus’ hips, every push of his own thigh against where James himself is sinfully slick he breaks eventually.

Gushing warm and wet over Regulus’ skin with a shout, face contorting with ecstasy, grip tightening on Regulus’ hip and in the end that’s all it takes to give Regulus the release he’s been chasing as well.

His hand clamps down over the nape of James’ neck with a strangled moan, muscle in his arm straining as he ruts his groin uncoordinatedly down into the meaty muscle of James’ thigh, quivering with the force of his orgasm.

That’s when James blinks his eyes back open only for them to flutter again at the sight of Regulus cuming, a moan punching out of him in response to witnessing Regulus’ climax and then tipping his chin up and reeling Regulus into another kiss like a can’t help himself.

They ride out their orgasms together, groaning and humming into each others’ mouths until they’re lazily making out and twitching at the occasional shift of muscle pressing into their oversensitive cocks.

Regulus separates them eventually, driving both hands through James’ hair from front to back and digging his short nails into his boyfriend’s head, hair damp, and content to just look at him for a bit.

James blows out a breath, cheeks puffing out adorably before he slips into a blissed, dimpled grin, gazing back up at Regulus with stars in his eyes. “Fuck,” he breathes, radiating and looking entirely too handsome in the orange sunset hue for Regulus’ post-orgasmic weak spot.

Regulus hums in response, a smile tugging on his lips and he’s frankly too exhausted to keep it in check. Still, he cocks an eyebrow at James, “Thought I was supposed to be the one cuming first?”

James groans openly, hips giving a feebly twitch, and then quickly slings his arms around Regulus’ back, burying his face in the crook of his neck, “You were so mean about it– calling me a good boy, what did you think was gonna happen?”

His body is warm and sturdy pressed against Regulus’ front, his breath humid and equally warm against the skin of his neck and Regulus would bet on the fact that his cheeks are back to tinted a faint scarlet.

The grin sneaks onto his face without notice and Regulus only breaks it for a moment to press a kiss against the side of James’ head.

#this is also for the anon that said James thighs deserve to be ridden #because they were 100% right obviously #jegulus #jegulus microfic #starchaser #sunseeker #james potter #regulus black #marauders #jegulus fic #t4t jegulus #lune’s tiny fic #trans regulus #trans james potter #trans regulus black

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astraxxei · 11 months ago

Note

thinking about lovesick corrupted yan venti 🤤

he was nice enough to give his darling their own room to “be nice” but they have a chain attached from thier ankle to the bed and its only long enough to go to the four corners of the room

thinkign ab how he doesnt think its noncon because it brings them clsoer together

thinking ab darling who just gor kidnapped and gets their ass punished for biting his dick mid bj

he would punish them by hurting them back lol

u should totally write ab reader biting his dick ( like as a way of attacking him ) and getting punished for it

yes this is a noncon request 😞

gn!reader possibly?

- :3

Hi :3 anon! OF COURSE I'LL DO TS. THE BITING IS SO FUNNY HELP ME.

✧.° - You belong to me, darling...~ ♡

ft VENTI from Genshin Impact.

WARNINGS : NSFW: SEXUAL THEMES. INTERACT AT YOUR OWN RISK. DARK CONTENT. ( :NONCON. Sadism/Masochism. Slight blood. Violence. Yandere themes. Character is a yandere. Reader is a victim. Degradation.)

Yandere! Corrupted! Venti. Reader uses they/them pronouns. Reader is gn. AU where corrupted Venti is the ruler of Mondstadt and reader is an innocent citizen. Oneshot: requested.

This is a dark content post. If you do not wish to see this type of content, please block the corresponding tags. I am not responsible for any person reading this. Reader discretion is advised. Any hate will not be tolerated. By proceeding under the cut, you confirm that you wish to see this type of content and you have FULL responsibility of what you're about to read and interact with.

~ ♡ ~

Even ever since you knew about what Barbatos has become, you did not wish to leave your birth nation. Strange, yet endearing, that you had such a strong connection to your homeland that you didn't want to leave even while you knew that your archon had been corrupted with a mind full of malice and power and then... nothing. Destruction and despair, but you preferred to endure than run away. Scared and stunned, you ran and ran like a chased criminal from the wind. You had went out to buy some apples, but suddenly you felt like the breeze has been after you. You felt like this for a while, every single time you stepped foot out of your home, like something was chasing you, a strong desire to make you it's possession filling in it's blood.

But the wind blew so hard this time, it knocked you on a tree and you passed out. About time, because you've been losing sleep lately, you though before blackening out. You suddenly wake up and... You feel strange. Your head hurts, but you're on a soft bed. But you try to get up and...what is that you feel? Restraints? Chains locked in your ankle on the bed.

You realized you could only move to reach the corners of the small room. The chain attached to your ankle was starting to hurt, but you didn't notice that. More importantly, you were scared. You didn't know what was going on. Who was the one that chained you, restrained you, in a place you've never been before? You hear a faint laugh in the distance. Malicious laugh... sending shivers of terror down your spine.

The one climbing up the stairs to the little room you were currently in was no one other than the Anemo archon himself. Your eyes widen. You can't believe you got into this situation.

"B- Barbatos?!"

"Call me Venti, dear~"

His voice is sweet like sugar cubes, but it's scary and intimidating at the same time. He is average heighted, his glowing, pink eyes are staring into yours. His huge smile is spread across his face, and you swear that even in your weak vision you can see blood staining his delicate clothes.

"Look darling. You're mine from now on~ I gave you your own room~ I should be getting rewarded for being so kind and sweet...to my lover. Come here, and I will teach you how to show me your appreciation all day~"

Terrified, you shake your head as he walks towards you. You were scared, so scared, oh, what a monster...

You almost don't notice how swiftly you're being pulled towards him. You try to protest and squirm but his hand is grabbing your hair so hard it hurts and you almost cry out in pain. A malicious laugh is the response you're getting.

"Ahahaha! Look at you, trying to get away from the Anemo archon! This is a way for both of us to bond, you know...you should want it...You should be good to me...or else... I might do something you won't really like...my lovely dearie~"

You stop protesting as his hand on your hair is hurting you too much to handle. Before you realize it you're lowered down to his crotch and as he throws his clothing to the side you see his erection pent up proudly right in front of your face. Your eyes widen at the sudden realization of his size, but you remember, he's a god, so you're not anymore surprised. He looks down at you mischievously and smiles widely as he runs his hand through your hair.

"See that? Well, you better take care of it. I don't have all day."

You sigh in despair of how you got yourself into this situation. You part your lips and start taking it slowly inside your mouth, sucking slowly and looking up at him with a slightly indifferent look. You see his flushed face as he grabs your hair tighter and pulls your head towards himself roughly, the sounds of pleasure escaping his mouth as soon as he feels yours around him.

"Aaah~ Mmph~ Haah~"

He tastes so good. You don't want to admit it to yourself, but you like it. You really like the sensation. But at the same time...you get slightly annoyed. You've been denied freedom and a good life because of this faulty archon, and now he's forcing you to suck on his dick? You feel absolutely degraded. You decide you can't tolerate this, no, for your nation, and your own sake, you can't.

Without even thinking you bring your teeth to bite down. Not too hard, but enough to cause pain. You see Venti's eyes widen and tear up slightly as he lets out a pained squeal and pulls back from you immediately.

You pant and breathe heavily, looking at him as your saliva is connecting your mouth with his tip. Suddenly he looks down at you with a very angry expression and before you know it a hard, sudden slap makes it's way across your face.

"That hurt, you fucking whore!"

Your vision goes foggy. You whimper and place your trembling hand on your cheek. The chain is still tied to your ankle. You look up at him, shaking. He looks down at you, breathing heavily, but seemingly less angry than before. He kneels down and his hand quickly wraps around your neck. It's really hard, and it hurts. You try to whimper out your words.

"..'m sorry..sor- hnn..."

He lets go of your neck and smiles. "This is what you get for being a disobedient slut. Don't worry, I still love you though~ disobedient or not, you're just my adorable little toy..."

He looks down at you with a wide, mischievous smile and caresses your cheek.

"...and I'm going to do anything in my power to make sure you understand that you're mine and mine only. The feeling of me will be implanted in your brain forever. You belong to me, darling...~ "

~ ♡ ~

A/n: I have never written anything more toe curling in my whole life. Also I managed to not laugh while writting the biting part. I did not expect this to happen.

#genshin venti #venti x reader #smut #genshin smut #dark content #gn!reader #genshin x reader #anemo archon #degrading k1nk #yandere #yandere character #mental illness #core #tw noncon #tw bl0od

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