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alastor-simp · 1 month ago

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Never Been Kissed💋 - Alastor x Female Reader

❥Summary: It gets revealed to everyone that you have never been kissed before ever, in your previous life and afterlife, and a certain deer demon takes interest in that

❥Tags: Alastor x Female Reader, Alastor x Reader, Never Been Kissed, First Kiss, Hazbin Hotel Fanfiction, Angel Is Your Bestie, Hint of Spice, Kissing, Al Becomes A Kissing Maniac

❥Notes: I love First Kiss stories so I wanted to do one with Alastor. Enjoy:) (Fanart credit to unakura on Twitter)

"That guy is smoking hot!! Denise is def gonna choose him." Angel said, as he was leaning against the pillow, face a bit flushed from the guys hotness. "Nah, he's too much of a tool. Besides Ray is a much better choice and he's much hotter." You argued back against Angel's comment. The both of you were watching a hell's version of a dating show, set in the Lust Ring of Hell. It was similar to the shows on Earth, just with demons and more sluttier plot. Everyone else was doing their own thing, Charlie and Vaggie were deciding what the next redemption lesson was, Sir Pentious and Niffty were baking in the kitchen, Husk was cleaning the bar glasses, and Alastor was sitting across from the both of you, reading his daily newspaper, chair facing a bit away from the TV due to his dislike of it.

The show continued on, the two pairs becoming a couple, which eventually lead to a hot make out session. Flustered, you turned your head away, raising your hand above your eyes to cover the scene in front of you. Angel took quick notice of your reaction, bolting out in laughter. "HAHA what's the matter with ya? Can't handle a little kissy kiss scene?" You shook your head no at his question, causing him to laugh more. "Seriously toots, you act like you never kissed before." Angel continued to laugh, his feet kicking up in the air. Lowering your hand, your face flushed red, super embarrassed. "I haven't." Unbeknownst to you, Alastors ears flicked a bit at what you said, eyes leaving the paper to gaze at you. Angel couldn't fully make out what you said because of his laughter, but he soon stopped, wiping the tears from his eyes. "What you say toots? I didn't catch that." Angel asked, inching closer towards you. Fingers twirling your hair, you slowly responded back to Angel, "I have never been kissed."

"WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?" Angels loud response, alerted the residents around him, half of them running into the lobby to see what was going on. Angel hands had grabbed your shoulders, shaking you like a maniac. "YOU'RE TELLING ME IN THE TIME YOU HAVE BEEN ALIVE AND IN HELL, NO HANDSOME SCHMUCK HAS EVER KISSED YOU BEFORE?!" Angel had fully stopped shaking you, which you were thankful for since you started to feel a bit sick. "No." The others had walked closer to where you were on the couch, except Al as he was still sitting on the chair, but his newspaper was closed, watching the scene in front of him with curious eyes. "OH MY SATAN!! I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS! Angel's body began to lean against the couch, hands covering his eyes in disbelief.

Vaggie had slowly made her away over, a bit annoyed at Angel's reaction. "Hey, there's no need to get so work about a stupid kiss. Plenty of people have never been kissed before." Angel removed his hands from his face, glaring a bit at Vaggie. "That's not why I'm shocked. I'm shocked that someone hasn't taken one look at my best friend and thought "I wanna smooch them." Feels like a crime." Niffty, being her quick self, had run up on the couch, hands placed on your cheeks, crazed eye starring at you. "How come you never gotten kissed before? Saving yourself for the ultimate bad boy? It felt like a million eyes were watching you right now, making you extremely shy - your body wanting to escape from this awkward situation. "Look I- I don't um...."

Sensing your discomfort, Charlie had walked over, grabbing Niffty softly, setting her down on the floor. "Okayyyyyy lets change the subject alright. I have a brand new idea for all of us to try, now if you will all follow me." You were grateful to Charlie that she was trying to stir the whole topic to something else. Angel appeared apologetic, patting your head, mouthing an apology, before he got up, walking over to join Charlie and the others. You, however, weren't in the mood to join them, deciding it be better to just go to your room. As you got up and walked away, you didn't notice the crimson glowing eyes watching you, as you began to head up to your room.

***Your Bedroom***

Heaving a sigh, you carried yourself over to the bed, flopping on to it, face hitting the soft pillow. Grabbing the covers, you pulled them over yourself, wanting to hide from the world. The whole lobby situation was still playing in your mind, making you groan. Hand reaching for your other pillow, you placed it against you, hugging it tightly. You decided it be better to just sleep off what just happened, placing your face further into the pillow you were hugging, closing your eyes. A soft tapping sensation was hitting your head, but you chose to ignore it. The sensation continued, which caused you to open your eyes. Moving the cover, your eyes peaked out to see Alastor, sitting on your bed, smiling down at you. "Ahh, she finally reveals herself! Hello, my dear!" He said with astounding enthusiasm, making you groan more. "Leave me alone Alastor please." The cover returned to your head, blocking your face from Alastor again. "Now now, don't hide yourself away from me. I merely wanted to spark up a conversation with you." His clawed hand gripped at your cover, pulling it away from you, revealing yourself to him again.

Debating whether to grab the sheet again, you chose not to, unless you wanted to anger him. Slowly getting up, you looked at Al, wearing an annoyed expression. "Okay, what do you want to talk about?" Widening his smile, Alastor leaned on his side on the bed, hand placed against his cheek, "From what the effeminate spider yelled out in the lobby, you have never been kissed before, correct?" Your eyes widen at him. Seriously? He was bringing this up again?! Heaving a sigh, you nodded your head, cheeks becoming aflamed. The embarrassment radiating off of you, brought massive satisfaction to him, his smile stretching to the point it could break his face. "I don't indulge in topics of conversation like this, but this one had peaked my curiosity. So enlighten me, my dear, why haven't you kissed anyone?"

"He's messing with me", was your first thought when he asked you this, but reading his expression more closely, you realized he was being serious with his question. Turning away, hands fiddling together, you tried to answer him, "I don't have a clear answer for that. I guess what Niffty said is kinda true. Waiting for the right person...I guess." Silence filled the air after you gave your answer, only thing you could hear was the soft sounds of static from Al. "You were expecting the classic fairytale, finding your one true love kiss, I presume? His tone mocked you, making you a bit angry that he was finding amusement in this. "Yeah that's exactly it, now that I have answered your question, can you please leave me alone?" Grabbing the cover that Alastor had pulled away from you, covering your body and face, you fell on your side to the bed, facing away from him.

Static chuckling came from next to you, as you stayed under the covers, refusing to come out. "If it's something you desire, I will be willing to grant it." He spoke so calmly like he didn't just say the most shocking thing ever. Popping your head out of the cover, you craned your neck towards him, giving him an "Are you serious" look. "Yeah right. You're just joking with me." Laughing at what he said, you turned away, resuming to stay inside your blanket. A rush of wind could be heard next to you, and before you knew it, Alastor was inside the cover with you, body hovering above you, hands placed on the sides of the bed "Who's joking?" He spoke, no hint of static in his voice, as his crimson eyes gazed down at you, lips in a smirk. Jumping at his position being on top of you, your mouth became unable to form words. Was he serious? He wanted to kiss you? "Is it okay if I ask why?" You spoke softly at him, waiting to hear what he had to say.

Alastor appeared a bit put off by your question, for he himself, was a bit befuddled as to why he wanted to kiss you. His eyes gazed up, thinking hard about it. "I've roamed hell for many years, having no interest in acts of affection or romance. Many suitors often came my way, but I broke their hearts, or ate them HAHAHAHA!" His eyes flashed into dials for a second as his head went back from his uproar of laughter. Eyes continued to stare at him as he slowly calmed down from his laughing fit, face taking on a more serious tone, despite the smile still remaining on his face, “However! There were times I wondered what it would be like to take part in acts like this." The radio filter left his voice, as gloved fingers gripped your chin, thumb tracing your bottom lip, softly.

Your face was probably was red as his hair right now, as your brain was still trying to process what he was saying. Your eyes continued to stare up at Al, who continued to smile, eyes filled with softness, for once. "Is...are you comfortable doing this?" You quietly asked, palms feeling sweaty from how nervous you were. His head tilted with a crack, once again, confused by your question. "I'm worried that doing this is overstepping your boundaries. What if I am a bad kisser or have bad breath, what if I-" A boisterous laugh erupted from Al, shaking the bed, as the both of you were still covered in the tent-like blanket. "My sweet darling, there is no need to worry about trivial things like that. As for my boundaries, I am the one that is initiating this, so once again, no need to worry."

His wide smile had dropped into a gentle one, fingers still caressing your lip, before moving to your cheek. You bit your lips a bit, before opening them slowly, "Okay." Ears twitched at your answer, crimson eyes filled with a hint of desire plus hesitance, as he bent down a bit, face coming closer to yours. The beating of your heart was so loud, you could hear it in your ears, and you were certain Al could hear it too. The scent of his cologne was making you dizzy- mixed with hints of blood and graveyard dirt. Reflections were seen in both of your eyes, him seeing himself and you seeing yourself. His lips continued to move closer, inch by inch, until they were placed onto yours, soft almost like a butterfly had landed on it.

The glow from his eyes had vanished, closing them as he pushed a bit further into the kiss, making you gasp a bit. A few minutes has passed, as Alastor slowly pulled away, glowing eyes returning to admire you. You felt breathless, despite how tender the kiss was, it had you weak. “Did you enjoy it?” He asked, his lips distracting you, making you forget his question. “Huh? Um..yes…it…was…nice. How about you?” You ask as if out of breath, heart fluttering still. “Surprisingly pleasing.” He said matter-of-factly, but judging from his appearance, he looked more disheveled than you.

No one uttered a word after that, the both of you continuing to stare at each other. “May I do it again?” He whispered, causing goosebumps to form all over you. You nodded, answering his question. His lips returned again, this time with more passion. The gasp you let out allowed his tongue to enter, intensifying the kiss. The weight of his body was on you now, his chest against yours, feeling his racing heart. His teeth bit your lip slightly, drawing some blood, making him hum at the taste as his tongue continued to intertwine with yours. Moaning into the kiss, you wrapped your arms around his back, pulling him closer. The both of you broke the kiss, string of saliva appearing from both of your mouths. Heavy breaths could be heard, as glazed eyes stared down at you, ashen cheeks flushed. "Again." was said from him, lips returning back to you again, and again and again.

-END-

Sinners:

@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic

@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,

@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,

@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,

@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,

@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao

, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,

@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,

@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,

@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,

@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,

@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,

@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,

@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,

@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,

@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,

@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,

@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink , @ask-theradio-demon ,

@lousypotatoes @l4zyb0n35 , @midorichoco

@lillyisfreakyy , @alastorthirsty , @yukiinee ,

, @aconstructofamind @angiiiiiiiiie

@pumppkinlynn @erikaafernns , @silverpaw2 ,

@cosmiccandydreamer , @killer-nightmare0 , @visara-valentina

@thereallsaturnstar , @coffee-or-hot-cocoa ,

@fckedupandbeautiful , @alaskathestereodemoness , @fries11 ,

@toneystank-3000. , @doll-babe-a-tron-queenthousand

, @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog , @twistedvanillacoffee

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seulszn · 9 months ago

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Listen I love TLOU and the fandom very much but a lot of people (not calling anybody out) need a reality check and need to grow up. I wanna say my two cents on things that bother me in this fandom.

1. Boycotting for Palestine

I have seen multiple times on multiple occasions where people would sit on their phone and complain about why writers are “flooding the tags with this boycotting bullshit” and honestly all I have to say is your super childish you can’t take a hour or a week out of your day to raise awareness on a important topic that is affecting millions of people? Your so horny so down bad for pixelated characters that you don’t care about the innocent children, women and men that are dying in Palestine? The boycotting isn’t gonna stop just because you want your needs filled, the boycotting isn’t going to stop because you think it needs to, it’s not gonna stop until Palestine is free. And if you wanna read things that bad then read nobody is stoping you but a take into ignition that if a writer is spreading awareness then don’t be ignorant and say stupid shit

2. Less Sex and more angst or other genres.

Listen I love Abby and Ellie just like everyone else and I read a lot of smut about them but does that all y’all see when y’all look at them? As sex objects? Like I’m not saying that you should stop writing smut for those characters but write other things to that don’t involve smut, like angst I see a lot of people under that tag say how they wish writers would as write other things that isn’t just smut and majority of the time when they say that they get hated for it. It lowkey gets boring reading fanfics where the whole plot is smut, smut, smut. And again I’m not saying to stop writing smut but please for the love of whatever you believe in write other genres.

3. Black inclusivity

As a black writer and a black person TLOU tag isn’t inclusive enough. I know you must be thinking “Why are we speaking about this again?” Because I’m honestly so tired of how uninclusive the fandom is like I said before Ellie dates WOC if you don’t know what WOC is it’s Women Of Color all of Ellie’s girlfriends where WOC now I’m not saying you can’t write for Ellie as a white person and I’m not saying that never did all I am saying is once again all of Ellie’s girlfriend where POC

Riley was a Black African American who Dated Ellie

Cat the girl who wasn’t mentioned alot but is in the game is Asian American who also dated Ellie

Dina is a Jewish (Mexican, Middle Eastern ) American who dated Ellie

Also yes we know when the reader is white coded so don’t try a put that you don’t mention when race mentioned cause you do and we can tell when you do “She’s Petite and cute with her long blonde hair” or whatever you bitches be saying we know when you guys aren’t inclusive the whole point of fanfiction writing is to be inclusive is to make sure that readers can see themself in your xreader so if your putting all these “white things and then labeling your story as “the readers race is not mentioned” or that OC stuff that y’all do then just label the story as a white reader or a OC reader

4. Futa, trans and masc

Now here I’m gonna discuss two or three things starting off with Futa and Trans. Now I don’t know when “Futa” or “Trans” Ellie and Abby came from but a lot of you readers need to understand and learn the difference between the two because they are both very different things.

Futanari: is the Japanese word for hermaphroditism, which is also used in a broader sense for androgyny. Beyond Japan, the term has come to be used to describe a commonly pornographic genre of eroge, manga, and anime, which includes characters that show primary sexual characteristics from both females and males. In today's language, it refers almost exclusively to characters who have an overall feminine body, but have both female and male primary genitalia (although a scrotum is not always present, while breasts, a penis, and a vulva are). The term is also often abbreviated as futa(s), which is also used as a generalized term for the works themselves.

Transgender (often shortened to trans) is someone whose gender identity differs from that typically associated with the sex they were assigned at birth. Some transgender people who desire medical assistance to transition from one sex to another identify as transsexual. Transgender is also an umbrella term; in addition to including people whose gender identity is the opposite of their assigned sex (trans men and trans women), it may also include people who are non-binary or genderqueer. Other definitions of transgender also include people who belong to a third gender, or else conceptualize transgender people as a third gender. The term may also include cross-dressers or drag kings and drag queens in some contexts. The term transgender does not have a universally accepted definition, including among researchers.

Mind you I am not transgender I am nonbinary but I see a lot of transgender people speak up about how offensive it is to write a character as Transgender but it’s not really transgender but a Futanari remember a Futa is a character who is assigned a gender at birth but just has extra sexual parts like a penis.

Now another thing that bothers me is how y’all Masculinize Masc Lesbians as if they still aren’t women themselves like every time I read a fanfic with Ellie or Abby or even Vi and Sevika from Arcane you guys like to ignore they fact that they are also women themselves like it’s not gonna kill you to give those characters feminine compliments there shouldn’t be a reason why your calling these women “handsome” or other Masculine compliments and also a lot of Masculine women where makeup it’s not just a feminine woman thing. Masc Lesbians are women they aren’t men so stop treating them as if they are men and ignoring the fact that they are women

5. the Innocent childish reader gotta stop.

They title says enough I don’t think I need to say too much but a lot of y’all get innocent and corruption mixed up but a corruption kink is When you find the idea of "corrupting" someone, mostly in a sexual way, like taking virginities or introducing people to stuff like bdsm etc. It's the idea of having someone "pure" do "bad" things under your influence. And innocent is not corrupted or tainted with evil or unpleasant emotion; sinless; pure. not guilty of a particular crime; blameless. (From the dictionary)

Y’all need to understand yes not everyone knows what sex is but everyone knows what a vagina is what a penis is, what a orgasm is and what sex is but they may not knows what happens when you have sex so making the reader what y’all call innocent isn’t innocent it’s honestly to me perverted cause the only one who would say something like “my cunny feels weird 🥺” or that “what is sex 🥺” is a child. Children don’t know what sex is children don’t know what pleasure or orgasms is and when y’all say “the reader is a Bimbo” is also funny cause Bimbos know what sex is as well yes they may be stupid but they aren’t slow so before you make a innocent reader please think “am I making my reader act like a child or am I gonna make her really innocent like how regular grown ass adults act?” so don't get not knowing and "innocent" mixed up

6. The stories where they have sex inside a church also gotta stop

Now I’m not a Christian but these stories are honestly really bad and are Blasphemy a lot of people have come out and said that they don’t like the fact that people are writing stories about church in a sexual way like their shouldn’t be any reason why your characters are fucking inside a church, that’s like stomping on someone’s dead grave. You guys do shit like this and then wonder why Christian’s don’t like us. Religion isn’t something to be sexualized it’s not something to be playing with either this idc how much you hate Christianity you can be a Atheist, or Catholic or Jewish but please for the love of whatever you believe in don’t sexualize people’s religion.

That’s all I can think of at the moment if I think of more I’ll of course make a part two to this but don’t take anything I said here to heart it’s just my blunt honest opinion on things in this fandom and if I get hate for this 🤷🏾‍♀️

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therealcocoshady · 9 months ago

Note

Hi coco I wanna try putting in a request

Marshall x fem reader

Marshall and reader have a child there 4 or 5 (boy or girl idc ) and marshal and reader are indulging in late night activities (18+) and there child wakes up screaming bc they heard y/n screaming . So they come running knocking on the door to see if she’s ok .

You don’t have to do this kinda a bad idea

Hey ! Thanks for your request ! I love your idea ❤️. I had a lot of fun writing it, I hope you enjoy reading !

The Monster

Eminem x Reader Fanfiction

Summary : Lily gets scared when she hears Reader screaming during sex. Her and Em need to come up with some explanation.

Tags : Smut - Fluff - Comfort

Warning : SMUT (P in V, use of toys, anal, oral, biting, squirting…).

Author’s Note : I decided to use the same characters as in the one shot « One more baby ? » because why not ?

Your daughter was finally in bed, which only meant one thing : it was on. Baby-making time. Ever since you had decided to try for another child, your evenings with Marshall were filled with… spirited activities. Your sex life had always been active, but trying for a baby had you ten times hornier than you usually were. Same for your husband. For the past two months, as soon as Lily’s bedroom lights were out, you couldn’t jump on each other fast enough.

Trying for a baby not only made you hornier, it also made you more daring, more creative, much to Marshall’s delight. He was definitely enjoying the many new lingerie sets you had bought, as well as the toys and accessories. Since you had Lily on your own, with IVF, you decided to have as much fun as you could as you tried to give her a sibling. New positions, games, accessories, toys… as long as he was cumming inside of you, everything was fair game.

You were ovulating and had been a horny mess since this morning. It didn’t help that your dutiful husband had decided to work from home, staying in his grey sweatpants that you found him so sexy in. Days like this, he would usually stay in his home office but, for some reason, he had decided to work in the dining room. You weren’t going to complain : at least you got to admire him.

It was the holidays so were taking care of Lily but you couldn’t help but throw longing glances at each other. Every time he got a chance, he would tease you, brushing against you, gently squeezing your butt… and you got right back at him, leaning and bending forward every time you were in front of him so that he could have a good view of either your ass or your boobs. You felt your phone buzzing in your back pocket.

From Husband ❤️ : Keep on teasing me like this and you’re not walking for the next week.

You flashed him a smile and « accidentally » dropped the pencils you were holding.

- Mommy, did you drop something again ? Lily asked in an annoyed voice.

- I did, baby, you replied as you tried to hide a smile. I guess I’m really clumsy today…

- Daddy always says that we should be careful with our things, your daughter reminded you.

- And Daddy is always right, Marshall added with a smirk. I swear, Lily is the only good girl around here…

You giggled and bent to pick up the pencils as your husband stared at you - or rather at your cleavage that also showed a hint of the lingerie set that was waiting for him. You saw him licking his lips. Obviously, black lace was always a good choice. You forgot where you were and eye-fucked each other for a second before being taken out of your trance by Lily.

- Daddy, will you come and draw with us ? She asked.

- I have work to do, sweetie, he said with a small pout. I’d love to draw with you but Paul is going to be very unhappy if I don’t review these contracts for tomorrow.

- Uncle Paul always gives you work, she complained as she rolled her eyes.

- True, he chuckled. Next time you see him, you tell him he needs to leave Daddy alone, alright ?

- Yes, she said. You’re my Daddy and I miss drawing with you.

You could see Marshall’s heart melt at these words. He threw a guilty glance at the contracts on the dining room table and you could tell he was tempted to drop everything.

- I really have to work, baby, he said. But if you let me work in peace, I can go quicker and then we can do something together, ok ?

- Ok, she said. Can we make pizza just the two of us tonight ?

- Of course, he said with a smile. We can cook for Mommy. I think she’s a little too clumsy to be in the kitchen today anyway.

You giggled and took your daughter to the living room to draw for a little bit. As the evening came, Marshall kept his promise and cooked with Lily. Pizza was her favorite thing to make with her Dad. The two of them always made a mess in the kitchen, but it made them so happy that it was worth it. When it was time for bed, she insisted that Marshall be the one to tuck her in and read her a bedtime story. She was clearly in her « Dad phase » and he was her favorite parent. You’d read it was normal so you didn’t worry much. Plus, it was fair : he was working a lot lately, so she probably missed him.

You decided to make the most of it and wait for your husband in the bedroom, only wearing your lingerie and high heels. With a 5 year-old, you didn’t wear your heels too much, but you knew how much Marshall loved the sight of your legs when you wore these red bottoms. You were searching for something in a drawer when you heard him enter the bedroom and lock the door. The familiar sound was always arousing to you. It was time to play.

- I have a bone to pick with you, Mrs Mathers, he said playfully in your ear as he stood behind you.

- Do you ? You giggled.

- You drove me crazy all day, he whispered. Time for consequences.

You were about to turn and face him when you felt his hands on the back of your neck, forcing you to bend over the dresser. He got closer to you until you could feel how hard he was. You couldn’t help but moan. After all, you had spent the whole day waiting for this moment. Little did he know that you were soaking wet.

- I could take you right here, he whispered in your ear.

- Please, you moaned.

- Not yet, he chuckled. Let me enjoy the view.

He ran his hands on your sides, your back, your legs, spilling kisses all over your body as you stayed in this position, all his to enjoy. He kneeled behind you and kissed your ass cheek before making your lace panties slide off your legs. He kissed your thigh, going higher and higher until you felt him kissing your pussy, from behind. You let out a soft moan as he ran his tongue up and down your slit. He slid a finger inside you, feeling how wet you were.

- For me ? He asked playfully.

- I was actually waiting for someone else, you couldn’t help but say.

He stopped and you felt a slap on your butt. Of course you had to run your mouth. It was going to be the death of you. You silently cursed yourself for making him stop what he was doing. You wanted his mouth and fingers back to your pussy, in their rightful place. He got up and whispered in your ear.

- Am I not enough ? He asked teasingly. Do you want more ?

- Marshall, you moaned. Please.

- No, he chuckled. I’ll give you more.

He opened the drawer next to you, where you kept your toys, and got your butt plug. He put it in your mouth, telling you to suck on it. When it was wet enough, he inserted it in you, before resuming his initial position and sliding two fingers inside of your pussy. His tongue worked his magic on your clit and you tried hard not to make too much noise. The sensation of the plug, his fingers and his tongue at the same time was sending you in overdrive. It was delicious. You thought you were about to come in no time but he seemed to have other plans.

- I’m not done with you yet, baby, he said. You teased me, now it’s my turn to have fun.

He just loved driving you crazy and you knew he got off on seeing you wrestle with your pleasure. Not that you were going to complain, mind you. After years of dating selfish men when it came to sex, Marshall was a breath of fresh air. You knew you had married the right man but, in that moment, you wished he would just pound into you and make you come already. Patience was definitely not your strong suit, and especially not when you were ovulating.

He grabbed your hand and pushed you on the bed, ass up, face down. In no time, he got rid of his clothes and he did not even bother undressing you. He just pushed your panties aside before entering you. His hip thrusts were painfully slow and you knew it was on purpose. However, you were not having it, so you rocked your hips in turn, owing you another slap on the ass. However, he indulged you and started moving faster. He reached for the plug and moved it a bit, causing you to whimper in pleasure. You were on verge of orgasm when he stopped again and laid down on the bed.

- Get on top, he said.

- You’re killing me, you groaned.

- Told you I’d get my revenge, he chuckled. Now, get on top before I leave you high and dry.

You were pretty sure he wouldn’t do this to you, but you were so needy that you weren’t willing to risk it. You were craving for release and he knew it. This gave your husband way too much power over you. He was smirking I when you got on top and lowered yourself on his length, taking all of it. The presence of the plug in your butt maximised the sensations and Marshall felt even bigger than usual. You moaned as you started moving, closing your eyes and chasing your high. Your man seemed to enjoy the sensations, too. He was usually a rather quiet lover but you could hear him whimper.

- God you’re so tight, he moaned.

- I’m close, you warned.

- Come for me.

Your movements started to become sloppy, much to your frustration. You were on the edge but couldn’t quite get there. You looked at Marshall. You didn’t have to say a word for him to understand you needed a bit of help.

- I got you, he said.

He reached in your nightstand and grabbed your Satisfyer. He turned it on and put it on your clit. Your body’s response was immediate. You were shaking on top of him and your soaked sex was clenching around his. It was so strong that you let out cries of pleasure. Marshall captured your lips in an attempt to shut you up, but to no avail. Your nails were digging in his chest.

- Fuck, he said as you felt him twitch inside of you, his release being imminent.

There were too many sensations at once for you to be able to think straight and control yourself. Every inch of you was stimulated. You let out screams of pleasure as you reached orgasm. You could feel your husband try and cover your mouth but you instinctively bit his hand. He pulled you close to him and your teeth found his shoulder as you kept on having spasms. It felt like never-ending waves of pleasure. You weren’t even sure if that lasted seconds of hours. Time and space had become vague concepts. All you could hear were your own sounds.

Your head was buried in Marshall’s neck as you came to your senses, both of you panting.

- Holy shit, you managed to mumble.

You were taken out of your zone by Lily screaming. Parental instinct kicked in and you stared at each other. « On it », Marshall said before hurrying into some clothes and out of the room. You quickly got out of bed and got rid of the sextoys before getting dressed as well. You were about to check on Lily and Marshall when you heard a knock on the door.

- Mommy ? Your husband asked. Can we come in ?

- Yes, you said.

He opened the door and you could see he was carrying Lily who seemed terrified.

- Mommy ! She cried.

- What’s wrong, my love ? You asked. Did you have a nightmare ?

- I heard you scream ! I’m scared…

You threw a glance at Marshall who was trying to hide a smirk. You never realised you could be this loud.

- It’s alright, you said as you walked to them and kissed her head. Everything’s fine, baby.

- Why did you scream, mommy ? She asked nervously.

- I was… scared, you said, trying to come up with a quick excuse.

- Of what ?

- Of the monster under the bed, Marshall tentatively explained. But don’t worry, I got rid of him.

She looked anxiously at her Dad, who have her a reassuring smile. The mark your teeth had left on his shoulder caught her eye and she looked at him anxiously.

- Did the monster bite you ?! She asked.

- What ? Oh uh… yeah, he said. I had to wrestle him. Scratched my chest too. But you should see him. He looks worse.

You let out a giggle. Thank God for his brain and quick thinking. Your daughter looked at you.

- Are you alright Mommy ? Did the monster bite you too ? She asked nervously.

- He didn’t, you said reassuringly. Thank God for your Dad. He’s a hero.

- I am a hero, Marshall said proudly.

Lily hugged him tighter and gave him a peck on the cheek.

- Thank you for saving my Mommy from the monster, she said. I’m proud of you, Daddy.

- Of course, he said with a big smile. I’ll never let anything happen to Mommy, or to you, or your sisters.

- Mommy… did the Monster pee on your bed ? Lily suddenly asked.

Marshall and you glanced at the bed. There was a huge wet spot, caused by a mix of squirt and sweat. You couldn’t help but blush. You might have had your most powerful orgasm ever, tonight, but you were definitely paying for it. You were absolutely mortified, while Marshall was trying really hard not to cry from laughter.

- I guess he did, you said sheepishly. That’s how scary Dad is.

- Why don’t we go downstairs for some water ? Marshall asked Lily. So that Mommy can sort the mess the monster made in bed.

- Yes, you do that and I’ll join you, you said.

- You should also open your window, Mommy. The monster stinks, Lily pointed out.

She wasn’t wrong. The room reeked of smells typical of sex : sweat, squirt, pheromones and God knows what else. Marshall chuckled and winked at you before carrying her downstairs. You opened your bedroom window and changed the bedsheets. When you joined them in the kitchen, they were eating ice cream. You frowned, as they both knew what you thought of having sugary snacks before bed.

- We’re having a celebration, Marshall grinned. We’re celebrating the defeat of the scary monster under the bed.

- Oh, you giggled. In that case, I won’t say anything.

Lily was sitting on Marshall’s lap. She still seemed a little freaked out. He talked to her reassuringly as she asked some questions.

- I don’t want to go back to bed, she whined. What if the monster comes back ?

- I beat him real bad, you know ? He pointed out. I don’t think he will be bad anytime soon.

- What if his family comes back for revenge ? She asked nervously.

- I’ll wrestle each and everyone of them, he said. Come, I’ll tuck you in.

As he carried her up the stairs, she started hiccuping again. He stopped in his tracks and looked at you. Her cries were heartbreaking. You were a little mad at yourself for scaring her with your screams. You joined and hugged the two of them.

- Can I sleep with you tonight ? She asked.

- Of course, you said. But just for tonight, ok ?

The three of you settled in bed and you were ready to turn the lights out when she started asking about the scary monster again. Both you and your husband kept on trying to reassure her but it didn’t seem to work too well. Marshall sighed and got up. You wondered what he was up to, but you quickly understood as he came back with his huge lightsaber replica from Star Wars, which served as decor in his home office that also doubled as a man cave.

- I thought it was not supposed to be taken from the wall ? Lily pointed out.

- Yeah… except in case of monsters, duh, Marshall replied with a grin. If anyone comes in here, I promise you they won’t last long.

Your little girl nodded and settled between you and Marshall. You kissed her forehead as she held your hand tightly. Your husband smiled at you and mouthed « I love you » before turning the lights off.

In the morning, everything was back to normal, though Lily still mentioned the monster. You weren’t too sure how to deal with it and you were a bit scared you had unlocked a new trauma… you were anxiously staring at Marshall, who proved (once again) to be a quick thinker and the real genius in the house.

- How about we call Lainie and ask her if you can have a sleepover at her house tonight ? He asked Lily.

- Why ? She asked.

- Well, I think Mommy and I should check the whole house for monsters tonight, he said as he winked at you. Just in case, you know ?

Author’s Note : I hope you enjoyed this short story ❤️. I really like writing with these characters (I think Marshall and Lily are so cute) so if you have any requests for them, please keep them coming 💖.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #recovery fanfiction #marshall mathers imagine #eminem headcanons #eminem smut

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velvetcrimsonkisses · 9 months ago

Text

JJK Men General Relationship Headcanons

Note: my first writing hope yall like it... feel free to leave requests

WC: 1.1k

CW: None just fluff

Neutral!reader x gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso

GOJO SATORU

Bro is a menace. Will make you question why you are dating him everyday. He just likes making you mad yk those types of guys that flirt with you by being mean to you. HE'S ONE OF THEM

Spoils tf out of you. I feel like he would give you gifts and he definitely makes a big deal about it. He loves LOUD

Definitely the type to make you wear a G-letter necklace and you can NEVER take it off. I’m crying

His love language is physical touch. No arguing. He NEEDS to be touching you 24/7. Hugs from behind are his favorite omg and with him so tall and all. My ass is 5’9 and he’s 6’4 just ughhhhhh

Random thought but I feel like he's a nail biter. Yeah he acts cool and all but, that's how that mf relieves his anxiety. He be munchin fr. So if yall bite your nails too (i do) you can bond with that

GETO SUGURU

Ah Geto! I feel like he's the type of guy that is quiet around everyone else besides you. He opens up to you and tells you everything when he gets comfortable.

He also spoils you but it’s more quiet in a way. Yk how people say private but not a secret. That’s yalls relationship.

He loves loves loves calling I feel. He will always facetime or call. When he's playing videos or smth yall are on the phone.

Love Language is definitely acts of service. He cooks and cleans, Definitely has GREAT hygiene. He just always smells so yummy.

Random thought but, he definitely always wears a hair tie on his wrist. For you or for him but mostly for you. Also weirdly he also always has chapstick. Pookie don’t have not one crack in them luscious lips. The flavor imma has to say good old strawberry.

NANAMI KENTO

WHEN I TELL YOU I CREAMED MY PANTIES the day I saw a tiktok where it said he was 200lbs. IMAGINE that hunk of a man smothering you in kisses and cuddles. OMG I love this man.

He’s like Geto. He loves you quietly. But he's the type of man that would date to marry. You bet your ass he's gonna marry you. I wanna marry him. Everyone wants to marry him.

He loves coming home from work just to be with you. You are his peace. I feel like he’d like bag rubs and he’d like giving you sum too yk. You feel me.

Love language is definitely quality time. Imagine baking bread with him. OMG i love baking guys i’d bake him anything. But yeah cute little date yall can have. So cute so domestic.

Random thought but I feel like he’d ask for you to iron his clothes yk since he always wears a suit. Like he could def do it himself but he just likes watching you do it. He def has that “in love” stare while watching you. NANAMI

TOJI FUSHIGURO

DADDY

I feel like out of all the guys for him he would take the longest to fall in love with you or actually realize that he has feelings for you but, once he realizes he's WHIPPED

He’d do anything.. Tell him to go to the store no questions asked. You don’t feel like cooking. He’ll try his be… yall are ordering food. Need a foot rub, he's right there on the couch with you watching whatever show YOU like rubbing your feet.

I'm sorry but I have them daddy issues. Like if yall argue or smth and he makes you cry or makes you upset, he doesn’t mean too. He'd feel so bad and he’d be the BEST comforter (is that a word?). Like he just holds you and stuff and apologizes.

Love language… This a tough one. Imma go with words of affirmation. I feel like he takes pride in being told he's doing smth good yk. Hes just trying his best to not fuck up another relationship yk so please tell that poor baby he’s doing good.

Random thought but let's say in my little world of fanfiction he never left Megumi. It'd be important to him that Megumi likes the woman he’s with yk. Let that motherly instinct kick in.

CHOSO KAMO

THE LITERAL LOML.

YOU have to teach him how to be in a relationship. He won’t know nun. Like yes he knows women and men like each other, they get married and shit, and have babies. But he doesn’t know how to yk romance you ig. BUT YOU BEST BELIEVE HE WILL TRY THE HARDEST

He will def be the type to ask around and read up on it. Bringing you flowers and chocolate yk little gifts here and there. Always telling you he loves you and DATES so many dates. He wants everyone to know yall are together. HE IS YOURS. He’d def be the type to ask, “can i be your bf?” instead of “be my gf” yk. Yall know what i'm talkin bout.

Not that this man has anything to be insecure about but, I feel like once he is out in the public and stuff he notices that no one has any marks like his over his nose. He’d just feel a little uncomfortable but don’t let him. KISS HIS MARK PLEASEEEEE. God he blush so much and that embarrassment about it will fade completely. SO CUTE i just wanna nibble him.

Love language.. I could literally write a 5 page essay with works cited on how he could be all 5 but, well go with physical touch rn. The first time yall kissed, he could’ve sworn he was in heaven. He def pulled away with his eyes still closed savoring the moment. He literally is always kissing you and hugging you. He's so clingy in a good way. Always holds your hand in public. DO NOT SPLIT THE POLE. He would be on the verge of tears (I'm being dramatic).

Random thought but he’d def be the type of guy who would be like “let me ask my gf.” He knows he doesn’t need your permission to do stuff but he just likes telling you and letting you know. He so ugh…i just want him in my pocket is that too much to ask.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen fluff #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #choso x reader #jjk headcanons

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anundyingfidelity · 9 months ago

Text

TRAINING SEASON — Jensen Ackles

Summary: After a tumultuous relationship and a hard break up, you get trapped in between your co-star and a casual one night stand. But there's nothing you regret about.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x female reader, actress!reader.

Word count: 1,076.

Warnings: implied sex like the morning-after-sex, nudity, some sexy time but no full smut, friends to lovers, language, idk just wrote this quickly.

Notes: AU where Jensen is obviously single, and reader is like 38 in my head don't asky why I like this number, I still have no idea. And I just love, and I mean, loooveeee getting obsessed with hot men over 40, can you tell?

>> disclaimer: i totally respect the private lifes of the actors and celebrities i use for my fanfictions, and of course their personal relationships. this is only fiction written for fun and nothing more.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

Opening your eyes, you stirred on the soft bed and noticed your sorroundings. This wasn't your hotel room. Your bare body hidden under the blank, messy bed sheets reminded you of yesterday's events. You smiled.

The other side of the bed was warm. His body pressing against yours felt perfect, and you wrapped your hand on his own, which was laying on your waist, like if he didn't want to let go of you. Your mind started remembering his touch on your skin, the way he would kiss every inch of your stomach, the trail of kisses he left all over you, and his love bites around your neck and chest. The burning between your thighs and the soreness let you notice it was as good as you imagined it to be, even before it happened.

"Whatcha thinking?" he asked, raspy and soft voice booming in your ears.

"Mmm... Nothing, just how great you felt last night," you teased, turning your head to see his face directly. Bare skin, disheveled hair, and tired but loving eyes met you. God, he was beautiful. He looked so fucked out in the best way possible one could describe it.

Jensen chuckled and kissed your cheek. Still, he never let go his embrace on you. He looked at you vividly for a long time, scanning every feature of your face, like he wanted to save all of you in just an instant. Your brows furrowed for a moment.

"What?" you whispered.

"We didn't fuck this up, did we?"

A sigh left your lips, your hand ran on his hair softly. You knew what he meant. You had a bad relationship and an even worse break up months before you started working together, and Jensen became a great friend as you tried to overcome it. And it was so hard not to fall for him when it felt like you knew each other for decades. He was someone you could trust your deepest secrets, pain and thoughts. A part of you did not want to cry on his shoulder for days once you got comfortable around him, nor letting him know how terrible you felt at the time. But he never judged you. He just was there, listening and offering a helping hand expecting nothing back.

But your feelings changed in the course. As months went by, an amazing, caring and loving friendship bloomed between both of you. Since the project was a long new TV series, you used to spend a huge amount of time together as your characters appeared to be in a slow building relationship. And now, the premiere was done, but the press tour barely started, so that meant you were not getting away from each other in a good time now.

"No," you finally answered. "Of course no."

"I mean, I know what you been through, and I- I don't wanna ruin anything-"

"Jensen, is fine," you cut him off. His eyes locked on yours, concern washed all over his handsome face. "I am fine with this, are you?"

"Absolutely," he said. "I always was. I mean, I liked you for a long time now," he laughed a little, making you smile. One of his hands now carressing your bare thigh, feeling the heat of your skin.

Jensen leaned down and pecked your lips softly, his lips slowly found its way to your neck, kissing and biting the flesh, exactly how he did last night. He groaned, tasting the saltiness, and you let out a soft moan as he flipped you around. You laid on your back, him on top. His tongue tracing your skin, stopping right before your breats. God, you were getting wet again.

Unlucky for you, your phone started ringing, breaking the moment and Jensen, with a disappointed look on his face, gave you the space to run and answer. By the way you were talking, he figured it was your manager, so he hid behind the covers, admiring you from afar. When you ended the phone call, you walked to him. His eyes kept lusting over your naked figure as you looked for your clothes all over the room. He sadly knew you were postponing until you had enough alone time together.

"I keep forgetting we're still on press tour," you kissed his cheek softly once you put on your underwear and grabbed your clothes to get decent to leave. "I'll be going now, sorry."

"It's fine," Jensen smiled, standing up and putting up some pants. He followed you before you crossed the door. "I'll see you later tonight then, how about dinner?" he casually asked, leaning down. "And then we could probably take care of some other things," he whispered in your ear. You bit your lip, eager to know what he had in mind.

"That'll be amazing, surprise me!"

You gave him a playful wink, and taking your purse you left his room with a wide grin on your face. You were so glad you stopped dating trainees to build a relationship with. Jensen was a self-confident, expert man, and you were more than happy to give it a shot.

#jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x female reader #jensen ackles imagines #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fic #supernatural #the boys #jensen ackles #i love you sir

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riordanness · 11 months ago

Text

fictional — [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 2.1K

warnings: none

‘i put myself in another world, where i can be any other girl, cause i don’t really wanna face it. cause if it isn’t real you can pretend all you want…’

I sigh as the lyrics of ‘Fictional’ by Khloe Rose filter through my headphones. My head leans against the cool glass window of the bus, bumping my forehead every time the driver goes over a pothole.

Hey, call me crazy, but this is probably the most relatable song in existence. At least to me. Falling in love with boys from books and movies was basically my job at this point.

I had one, though, that meant more than all my other ‘fictional boyfriends’.

Percy Jackson.

I’d grown up with this character, laughed with him, cried with him, held fast and braved the storm with him. I’d adopted his personality, tried to be like his girlfriend, acted as if we were best friends, talked to him, dreamt about him, read and written fanfiction about him, anything you can think of. I am obsessed, and no, I’m not ashamed of that fact.

I’m five years running with this crush now, and it’s not going anytime soon. I let out another sigh as I realise, yet again, that this is impossible. He’s fictional, as much as it hurts to admit. He isn’t real, and I can’t live my whole life pretending to date and marry a fictional character. Life just doesn’t work like that. Sadly.

The bus pulls up at school, and I climb off, slipping my headphones into my pocket. I’ll probably get them back out during a boring lecture in one of my classes, but for now I’ll just keep the daydreaming at a minimum.

“Hey, girl.” Andie sidles up to me, nudging me with her shoulder. “What’s kicking?”

“Nothing,” I deadpan. “Unless you’re a goat, like Grover Underwood.”

Andie laughs, my sarcastic comment going right over her head. I love her to death, seriously, but the girl hasn’t got an ounce of sarcasm in her. She’s the most literal and honest person ever, but she’s also super sweet and sincere. So, sarcasm isn’t even a word she knows.

“I’m not a goat, silly,” she giggles. “But guess what?!”

“Yeah?” I am actually kind of interested. Andie usually has all the gossip (somehow), so her news tends to be pretty good.

“There’s a new guy in our class today,” she squeals. “Apparently he just moved here from New York.”

“New York is where Percy Jackson lives,” I say automatically. “I wanna visit there someday so bad.”

Andie rolls her pretty eyes. She likes Percy Jackson. I made her read the books, and she did, but just so that she knows what I’m talking about most of the time. “You and your fictional boys, I swear. This is a real boy, y/n! You need to get your head out of a book for once if you ever wanna meet somebody.”

I shrug. “Real boys suck though.”

And even Andie can’t argue with that.

I’m doodling in my notebook, half listening to Mr Mintar explain something about geometry. I’m not terrible at maths, so I figure I’ll just catch up if I need to. My brain doesn’t want to pay attention today.

I perk up, though, when I hear something new.

“Students,” Mrs May, our principal, announces. “We have a new student joining us today. Please be kind to Mr Jackson and show him around. Remember, you were once a new student yourself.”

Jackson? Like Percy Jackson? How cool is that, I thought to myself. I yank my headphones out of my ears and glance up.

A boy is talking quietly with Mr Mintar; who is probably explaining what we’re learning and where he’ll sit. We have assigned seats in basically every class, because a few boys in our grade are idiots, so I sit alone in every class. Apparently, other students are very likely to copy my work if they’re sitting with me, so the teachers decided to make me sit alone all the time. It’s kind of okay, though. Means I can do whatever I want with no one to tell on me for listening to music.

I watch as Mr Mintar talks with his hands, waving them a lot. The boy has his back to me. He has messy black hair, and he’s wearing jeans, converse and a blue hoodie.

Mr Mintar gestures at me, and I sit up straight. The boy glances quickly, nods at Mr Mintar, and I realise what’s happening. He’s being assigned to sit with me, which probably means I'll also be assigned his personal ‘welcome-to-our-school’ guide. Which means I’ll be forced to be this guy’s friend for the next few weeks. Yay.

The boy turns to face me, and I swear my heart literally skipped a beat. Now, this wasn’t like those dumb fanfics where a girl’s celebrity crush just so happens to turn up at her school for some stupid reason, and they fall in love blah blah blah.

This was an honest-to-goodness ‘what the hell is happening’ moment. The boy now walking towards me looks exactly how I’ve always pictured Percy Jackson in my mind. The same crazily messy black hair, loose and slightly curled at the edges, twisting around his ears and falling in his eyes a little bit. He has the same smattering of freckles on his nose, the same tan skin, troublemaker grin, the same glint of determination in his eyes.

And gosh, I’d know those sea-green eyes anywhere.

The boy slides into the seat beside me. “Hi,” he says softly. “You’re y/n?”

I can’t do anything but nod, and I try to not stare at him too hard.

“You’re supposed to be my guide, or something, I think.” The boy sounds apologetic, like he knows how annoying being forced to be a school guide is. “And I’m supposed to sit with you in all my classes.”

I nod again, a little dazed. Even his voice is Percy Jackson-coded. A slight rasp, a little accented, ugh.

I find my voice. “That’s cool. I’d be happy to show you around and get you into the groove of things here at East High.”

The boy smiles, and he has little crinkles at the side of his pretty eyes, as if he smiles a whole lot.

“Awesome. I’m Percy by the way.”

I blink at him, absolutely sure he’s pulling my leg somehow. “What do you mean?” I ask.

Percy frowns. “Like… my name? The thing that people call me? It’s Percy. Percy Jackson.”

I just stare at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.

“Your name is Percy Jackson?”

“Yeah?”

“Like the book character,” I add, surprising myself with the calm in my voice. Inside my head, though, I was screaming.

Percy’s brow furrows. “A book character? I dunno. Never heard of a book character called Percy, but there probably is. I don’t read that much. Dyslexia.”

I nod slowly. “Of course.”

Percy frowns again, then chuckles a little. “You’re weird. I like you.”

My tongue feels like someone’s deep fried it in the microwave. I try to swallow, and it’s nearly impossible. “So you’re not messing with me right now? You’re really called Percy Jackson, and you have dyslexia and probably ADHD, and sea-green eyes, and your hair isn’t dyed, and…”

Percy laughs again. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes. What’s this about?”

I shake my head. “You wouldn’t understand if I told you.”

Percy raises his eyebrow. “Try me.”

It’s been a week since Percy’s arrival, and I’m still about 89% sure I’m dreaming. Not that I usually dream like this, but still.

I’ve spent basically all my school hours with Percy, as well as half my bus rides home, as his mum lives nearby to us.

The longer I know him, the more I’m sure that he’s real, that he’s actually here, and that he’s really, truly, Perseus Jackson, the not-so-fictional boy I’ve been in love with forever.

The weirdest thing, though, is the night after he arrived, I got home and all my Percy Jackson books and merch were gone. Mysteriously vanished. Even Andie doesn’t know what I’m talking about when I bring up PJO.

It’s like that movie, Yesterday, where everyone forgets about the Beatles. It’s like that, but with Percy Jackson. Oh, and obviously I have a real Percy to replace it; whereas Jack in that movie didn’t really have that.

Anyway, it’s crazy, it’s probably a hallucination, and it’s absolutely incredible. I’m spending every single day with my absolute favourite person in the universe, and he’s real.

The boy I’ve cried over, laughed over, loved for years… He’s here. He’s real. And he’s my friend.

“Marshmallows are not designed to be eaten alone,” I argue, pouting a french fry at Percy. “They aren’t even that nice anyway, but especially not when you eat them dry. All the powder, like, clogs up your throat and it’s disgusting. If you eat them on their own, you’re crazy.”

Percy laughs. “I hate them in my hot chocolates. They get all gooey and mushy, and… ugh.” He makes a face.

I roll my eyes. “You’re insane.”

Percy shrugs. “At least I don’t hate rice.”

“Hey!” I protest. “I have sensory issues! It’s not my fault the feeling of rice in my mouth makes me feel sick.”

“Hey, I know,” Percy says. “I was just kidding. I’m sorry.”

I relax. “It’s okay.”

I stare at him a moment, realising once again that this is really happening to me. That his pretty sea-green eyes are actually looking at me.

“What are you thinking about, love?”

“Huh?” I snap out of my trance, sitting up straighter. “What did you say?”

Percy smirks. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

To be honest, I barely remember. “Uh—nothing. Trying to think of what to do this afternoon after school.”

“You don’t have plans?” he asks.

I shake my head, and sip my chocolate milk. It tastes terrible.

“You’re going on a date with me, dummy,” Percy says, so casually I almost miss it. He leans his head back and throws a grape in the air, catching it in his mouth. It’s surprisingly attractive.

“Wait,” I say. “What?”

“You.” Percy points his finger at me, then himself. “Me.” He makes a swirling motion with his finger. “That new waterpark by the beach.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re asking me to go on a date with you?”

“You aren’t saying no.”

“No,” I reply, my voice soft, “I’m not.”

“Wow,” I say. “That’s an epic waterpark.”

Percy grins down at me, his eyes looking extra pretty in the afternoon sunlight. “You wanna race to the gate?”

I pretend to think about it for a second, then begin sprinting as fast as I can. I hear Percy gasp in laughter, then start after me. He catches me easily, his legs much longer than mine, but as he does, he scoops me up into a hug.

“Hey!” I shriek. “Put me down!”

I can tell he isn’t taking me seriously though, because we’re both laughing too hard. Percy eventually drops me gently on the ground. I can’t help but suddenly miss the feeling of his bare chest against me. I blink, and instantly shake those thoughts away.

“Buy me an ice cream and I’ll let you win all our races from now on,” I tease.

Percy scoffs. “Darlin’, you couldn’t win if you had a jetpack on.”

I try to ignore the flutter in my chest and roll my eyes. “Could so, and I don’t need any old jetpack.” I flex my nonexistent muscles. “You see these? I’m perfectly fine on my own, thank you.”

“Oh, oh yeah of course. Sorry, your majesty.” Percy has a stupid grin on his face, and I have an urge to kiss him right then and there.

And so I do. I grab hold of his shoulders, pull myself up onto tiptoe, and press my mouth to his. “I love you, Seaweed Brain,” I whisper into his lips.

Percy wraps his arms around my waist, causing the flutter to return, more greatly this time. He deepens the kiss, his head tilting downwards to accommodate my shorter height. His lips taste of the jellybeans we were eating earlier together. He had insisted on eating only the blue ones, of course.

The world around me blurs, and fades, and I’m left with only him, only Percy Jackson. His fingers on my waist, his mouth on mine, my heart in his hands. I am completely and totally his, as I’ve been forever, but now? He’s completely and totally mine too. My not-so-fictional boy.

#percy jackson #pjo #fanfiction #fanfic #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x reader fanfic #percy jackson fanfiction #walker scobell #percy jackson and the olympians #rick riordan #pjo series #pjo tv show #percy jackson x you #perseus jackson #fictional characters #fictional boys #fictional khloe rose

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leclerc-s · 6 months ago

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prologue - is it a wonder i broke?

series masterlist

liked by arthur_leclerc, fernandoalo_oficial, maxverstappen33 and others

ines_sainz i am what i am cause you trained me. the after and before.

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user01 girl a soft launch? while we're still processing you leaving racing?

user02 the before being spain and racing and the after being monaco and no racing makes me sad.

maxverstappen33 pick up the phone! i just want to talk!

ines_sainz you know where i live. just come over? maxverstappen33 that's too far! ines_sainz get the fuck up and walk?

fernandoalo_oficial todo bien?

ines_sainz eh más o menos fernandoalo_oficial ay nena que voy a hacer contigo? user03 their father daughter bond makes me coo. it's so special to me.

user04 is the caption shade?

user05 but to who? her family? user04 i will go to war if her family forced her out of racing. user06 same, we ride at fucking dawn bitches

charles_leclerc fancy a game of goat simulator?

alex_albon OH COUNT ME IN! georgerussell63 if it's as bad as last time, count me out. ines_sainz only if i can invite my super secret friends. charles_leclerc oscar and logan are not super secret. they were around last time. arthur_leclerc and why was i not invited? ines_sainz charles said you weren't cool enough.

user07 the way she looks so sad in the after. i wanna cry for her.

user08 no cause i remember her saying, 'without racing i don't know who i am' and now i'm crying. user07 WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT BRITNEY??

user09 now where the heck is carlos? he usually drags her by now.

user10 me thinks that rumor from a few months ago was about the sainz siblings and not the leclerc brothers like everyone thought. user11 makes sense carlos would be jealous of his little sister for being better than he is. imagine helmut marko publicly saying that 'she would've been miles better than her older brother.' user09 sometimes a man's hell is a teenage girl.

*translation is included in the second set of texts

¡taglist!

@minmira95 @lesliiieeeee @vroomvroommuppett @prongsvault @justtprachisblog @scuderiadevils @cataf1 @chezmardybum @formulaal @lilsiz @norstappenvibes @ironspdy @nikfigueiredo @hinamesgigantica @niniluvsainz @matchaverse @fakeikeastore @theseus-jpg @six-call @81folklore

¡not taggable!

@ashlovestoread1411 @books-thingys-andstuff @nothanqks @yeanoskrrt @ale-522

¡leclerc-s speaks!

for now, it's a pre-established relationship, but i'll write a part later explaining how they got together (the bonus tracks). i just find it easier to do it this way for myself. the point of this fic is mostly to have them torment carlos. sometimes i forget that i like carlos. this is like the fourth fic where i make him seem like a dick. i'm sure he's a nice person but for the sake of this fic he is not. there are time when i don't like (miami 2024) him, but my problem isn't with him, it's mostly with his fans. anyways, hope you enjoy this new fic. the first bonus part should be out like sometime tomorrow or in the next two days, i want to post it before the first part.

¡disclaimer!

this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #guilty as sin series #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc #oscar piastri x female oc

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auckie · 7 months ago

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I think the things that offend me most nowadays in like, smaller interpersonal interactions rather than grand, sweeping trends in culture, are when people chose to not partake in a wide set of things. Like musical close mindedness, or refusal to try different foods from different cultures. Not watching an entire subset of films bc they’re ‘french’. Avoiding reading bc you say you have adhd and it’s too hard. Like dude I get it, I’m busy. I can be picky. Everyone can. But the willful ignorance of closing yourself off to those VAST portions of the human experience, and not having curiosity and a lust to learn and explore art that was made by someone worlds apart from you either in terms of their culture, era, whatever. I dunno man it just pisses me off so bad. I think it’s arrogant. Like oh you’re comfortable in your safe little bubble huh? And you’re enforcing its barriers with the excuse that you’re autistic and have sensory issues. With music made by black people?? lol okay. It is pretty presumptuous for me to assume malicious intent but I think those prejudices are borne from either the comfort of being someone who’s wealthy and probably white not feeling the need to learn past what they think is enough, or it’s a reflection of a society that’s taught you to prioritize what it shills— popular, current (white, depending where you live ig) artists who are making streamlined, easy to digest content. Often when I meet people with these issues they’ll have one particular ‘niche’, and it tends to be like. 70s music. Victorian literature. Anime and Japanese games. But they’re still not really investing beyond the media presented. Like there’s so much more to Japanese culture than liking some cartoons put out between 2010-2020. You don’t gotta become some sorta Einstein who learns the background of every little freak in FGO yeah. But don’t you wanna aim higher? Aren’t you interested in any of the historical figures? And nothings wrong with hopping onto a trend. You read Dracula bc of that Dracula daily thing. Cool! Read more. Some people will say they’re chronically ill or disabled and can’t get outside. That’s okay. The internet is full of things you can read other than fanfiction, YouTube has a shit ton of free music. There’s Wikipedia and free articles online if you have questions about things. Yeah nobody is spending four hours a day looking at the national archives website and studying art history but it’s imbued in the things around you, and youll absorb it ambiently as you go along. you dont have to be a jack of all trades and cover every major genre of every major medium, but it never hurts to try! I really love seeing ppl ask too. Bc it can be kind of humiliating to admit to what seems like some jackass hipster that you’ve never delved into, idk, Serbian films (lol not that one). And hopefully if whoever you’re asking will give you honest good recommendations and not berate you. I’m kind of berate a straw man rn I guess. The hostile tone def doesn’t lend to an atmosphere of sharing but I cannot tell you how many times I’ve rbed anything involving specifically jazz only to see someone rb and add the stupidest comment on the post, or in the tags, or go into my inbox to be like waaah I don’t like jazz bc it’s boring and old and for pretentious hypocrites who hate neurodivergent people! Like what are you TALKING about. Fine if you don’t like it but don’t try and rationalize that as a moral standing you shit lark. And just as they’re allowed to dislike jazz I’m allowed to not really enjoy people who don’t like jazz. Or country. Nautical knots. Knit wear. Watching urbex YouTubers get their shit rocked by squatters. Korean food. Pachuco fashion and stupid ugly low riders. Bollywood films. and they don’t want to try any of those things either yknow? The next thing I’m getting into is circuit bending.

#sorry this is probably a bit whiny I just got mad remembering

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spookychick78 · 1 year ago

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Wanna Be Yours

Peepaw Myers X GN!Reader

Word Count: 6,558

⚠️Warnings: NSFW (18+, MDNI), choking, dubious consent, rough sex Michael himself is a warning, proofread but I'm human⚠️

Figured it was time I take on the old man. There's not nearly enough fanfiction out there for Peepaw. Is it over 6k? Yes. Is it self indulgent? Probably. Is it smut? Eventually.(there's some serious plot leading up) Needlessly romantic? Absolutely.

You stretched your arms out while simultaneously releasing yet another yawn. This was night two of staying up far later than planned, but insomnia had an unrelenting hold on you. Finally, it seemed it was losing its battle. Your eyes were heavy, your body the same as your yawns followed one after the other. A glass of water was all you needed, then you'd call it a night. You enjoyed the soft thud your feet made on the wooden floors, the usual pitter pattering muffled by a pair of fluffy socks you'd dawned. However, you were regretting your decision in not throwing on that pair of sweatpants before you came downstairs, it was rigidly cold, even indoors that night. Your oversized hoodie did little to protect you from the chill in the air.

You opened a cabinet, grabbed the first cup your hand landed on and brought it over to the filter in the sink. A sigh escaped you as you watched the little stream take it's sweet time filling it. Your foot had just begun to tap impatiently, it was so close to being filled, when a loud thump on the side door startled you. You dropped the cup, thankful that it landed in the sink, saving you from any mess. From where you stood, you couldn't see any movement out the little window on the door. You briefly regretted your decision not to turn on any lights as you stared, frozen in place waiting for any indication that someone was there. After a few moment's silence, the tightness in your chest dissipated and you let out the breath you'd been holding. Probably just a cat, you thought to yourself before you turned, foregoing your drink to retreat to the comfort of your room sooner rather than later. You hadn't even made it halfway up the stairs when yet another thud stopped you, followed by the sound of glass shattering. Your breath hitched and without thinking, you turned to scurry back downstairs, completely defenseless. In the shadows, you could just barely make out a figure. The only thing that was clearly visible, due to the faint gleam of moonlight, was his masked face. It was white, or it had been at some point and the eyes were two pitch black voids that seemed to be focused on the floor underneath his boots. As your eyes adjusted, you could make out a few more details, some that explained why he simply just stood there; he was injured. His hand, which was missing a couple of fingers and poorly bandaged, rested on his abdomen, clutching a wound that was still bleeding. His other hand seemed to be in just as bad a state, he'd broke the glass window with it to open the door from inside, rendering it bloodied as well. As he shakily lifted his head, those dark voids refocused their attention on you. You drew an uneasy breath, fearful of what he might do now that he'd discovered your presence. It felt like an eternity under his black gaze with only the sound of his uneven and ragged breath to break the dense silence that had settled in your kitchen, but finally something gave. He collapsed, you however stayed put for a moment more, unsure of what exactly you should do. The fact that he had a mask on wasn't entirely strange, it was Halloween after all, but he did break into your house. Perhaps he needed help? You could only hope that was his intention and he hadn't moved a muscle since he'd fallen, so with immense hesitation, you approached him. 'Intimidating' described him perfectly, even as he lay unconscious and face first on the ground. He wasn't a small man, not in the slightest. He must have been well over six feet tall from what you surmised, which meant he wouldn't be easy to move, but if you wanted to inspect his wounds you'd have to find a way. You tentatively placed a hand on his back, because if you were being honest, you weren't quite sure if he was even alive. He was, the soft whistle of breath through that mask of his and the subtle way his back rose and fell which each weak one he took confirmed that much.

"Fuck," you whispered as you contemplated how exactly you were going to turn him over, "you're not gonna make this easy on me, are you?"

You put all your strength into it and, after dropping him a few times, you managed to flip him over, "Sorry," you muttered after he'd landed on his back harder than expected.

You resisted the urge to study the face hidden behind the mask and focused your attention on his injuries, which were worse than you'd previously thought. Blood had turned the blue cloth he wore blacker than the eyes of his mask. You carefully pulled some of the fabric back to discover it was bullets than had torn through him. You winced at the sight, it wasn't something you'd be able to help much with, but you intended to do your best after at least calling for an ambulance. With that thought in mind, you stood to retrieve the first aid kit you never thought you'd have a use for and your cellphone. You wondered if he'd disappear while you had your back turned, half hoping he was simply a figment of your tired imagination, but when you returned he was still there and real as ever. You quickly dialed the emergency line, deciding to leave out the part that painted him as an intruder. You were still intent on not assuming the worst and he needed help, or so you thought. Once you hung up, you knelt down beside him again and carefully unzipped the coveralls he wore. You cursed yourself for blushing at the sight of his bare chest. He was older, the small patch of gray hair made that clear, but he didn't lack for definition despite his age. He was unreasonably built, something you fought to ignore but ultimately failed, hence the heat that had risen to your face. You gently pressed the rag to his wound and heard his breath falter at the sudden pressure, but he remained still as you cleaned him. You couldn't quite tell if he was awake, it didn't seem to matter how intently you studied those black holes, you couldn't see anything behind them to determine consciousness. But he was conscious and beyond disturbed at the predicament he found himself in, so much so that he hadn't a clue of what to do other than observe.

After you set the rag down, that mask had your full attention. The more you studied it, the more intrigued you became. It looked familiar, but you couldn't quite figure out why. You searched silently for a reason to justify what you were about to do as your hand moved closer to its edge. It would be easier for him to breathe without it on, you thought to yourself as your fingers grazed the rubber, but the moment you started to pull on it, his hand flew up to grab yours. He sat up, but doubled over as soon as he did and his grip on your wrist tightened.

"No- I'm sorry. Don't move, okay? You're hurt," you said, stumbling over your words as he flinched away from your other hand that went to his shoulder to steady him, "I just thought it'd be easier to breathe without it."

Michael's consciousness was an effort to keep, but he was aware enough to have heard what you said and it left him more than confused. The house had been so dark, he assumed it was empty, a safe place for him to rest while he waited for his strength to return. He didn't expect to find you standing there and when he did he had every intention to slaughter you, but the bullets Laurie had put in him had stripped him of that opportunity. His head whipped around for his knife while you watched, assuming he was just confused and unaware of where exactly he'd passed out.

"An ambulance should be here soon. I got you cleaned up, but you're gonna need more help than I can offer," you said, forcing his attention back to you, "you should rest though, until they get here."

Without hesitation, he shot up, entirely ignoring your suggestion and the throbbing pain in his abdomen, "Whoa, hey, what are you doing?"

Your words had little effect on him, which you soon learned as you watched him stride towards the door he'd entered from. You quickly followed behind, baffling him further. Usually, it was him who did the chasing.

"You can wait here, you don't have to-"

Naive, he thought to himself. Naive and completely out of your depth is what he made of you, but perhaps that kindness you'd shown a monster like himself was exactly what had saved your life, for now at least. He had no choice but to leave you, he'd had more than enough run ins with the authorities for one Halloween night and he knew they'd arrive any minute. He found his knife by the door and bent down to retrieve it, which was what stopped any further words from leaving your mouth. Your abrupt silence gave him pause and he turned his head slightly to find the horror of realization painted on your face. Your eyes were focused on the blade in his hand that had been decorated in red. The moonlight allowed its gleam to inform you that it was no prop, it was as real as your own blood that had run cold in your veins. It was your breath that was shaky now.

"Who are you?" You whispered.

He left you without an answer and that was weeks ago. Wondering was exactly what Michael wanted you to do and unbeknownst to you, you played along so nicely. He hadn't gone far, in fact he'd returned several times to catch you immersing yourself in his story. The night he met you, you never slept. You sat in bed with a blanked wrapped tightly around you as you listened to the details of what the man who'd broken into your home had done, of what he was. The answers you received from headlines only raised more confusion within yourself, because your name wasn't on his long list of victims. He spared you and that fact had you torn. Part of you wanted to let it go, be grateful that the shadow of death had so kindly passed over you, but there was another part that desperately wanted to know why. That part of you brought on more questions, but ones about yourself, more specifically, your own self preservation, because you wanted him to return. Sure, maybe it was simply time that was to blame, you'd called the authorities and he was a killer. He had to flee to avoid capture, but they still hadn't gotten him, he was still loose and he hadn't come back to finish you off. From what you'd learned, no one crossed Michael Myers' path and lived to tell the tale, you were alone in that. You were the first he'd left completely unscathed and unattended to, or so you thought. But Michael hadn't left you alone, not at all. He kept quite a close eye on you and with questions of his own, because in leaving you alive to wonder, he'd confused himself. The more he studied you, the worse it got. At first, it was a game, the same one he always played. The kill was always more satisfying when he had a bit of history on the subject at hand, but learning about you had become problematic. He never waited this long to strike, but you had made him hesitate. Somehow, you'd gotten to him and he couldn't seem to rid himself of the memory of you touching him. Perhaps it was because no one had before, not so gently. They'd certainly never apologized for hurting him as you had when you tended to his wounds. You cared about his well-being, it mattered to you that night. Enough so that you went out of your way to save him. He would have survived without your assistance, but it was the thought that counted, you thought about him in a way that no one ever had before. Now, you searched for him, unabashedly. He knew you weren't just gazing out of your window for the sake of it, you wanted to find him. He wondered if you a had a sixth sense, because he was always there, hidden in the shadows your eyes wandered to after the street lights turned on. You'd even begun to leave it open once you'd gone to bed, something that really piqued his curiosity. What would you do if he found his way in, what would you do if he gave you what you wanted and showed himself? Would you run or would he find himself in a situation in which he was the one who was out of his depth? Michael had gone his entire adult life without worrying about such things and he hated that finally, he'd been caught in such a trap. He wanted to hate you for it, but when you appeared in your window again and locked eyes with him in the darkness without even knowing it, he couldn't. He wanted to find one, just one single flaw that he could latch onto, but he couldn't and it ate at him. You were perfect, infuriatingly so. The way you moved haunted him in the most unexpected of ways and you were so young, so full of life that he should have wanted to drain, but death was so far removed from what he wanted to give you. His brow furrowed underneath his tattered mask as he contemplated it, because in truth, he hadn't a clue what exactly it was he wanted from you, he just knew it was you that he wanted and it was driving him to madness, to discomfort he'd never felt in all his life.

You disappeared from his view, retreating into shadows yourself once you decided he wasn't there. That was when he began to move unconsciously towards the door he'd entered through before. His heart pounded within his chest as he drew closer, unsure of what he would do once he was face to face with you again, but he needed to be, there was no question about that any longer. More than that, he needed to know what you would do, if you were different from the rest and if you could give him rest from the turmoil you'd caused within his mind, body and if he had one, soul. The house was dark, just as it had been the first time he arrived, only now, the door was unlocked. An invitation, he thought to himself with further intrigue. You did want him there, you must have, because who in their right mind left their house open for entry with a killer on the loose? He ought to teach you a lesson, but then again, no one was more of a threat than he was and he didn't intend to leave you unattended. If you wanted to leave your doors unlocked, so be it, but he would be your only visitor if he got his way and really, didn't he always?

His hand glided along the kitchen counter as he steadily made his way to the stairs, pausing at the bottom to study the stream of light that bathed the blackened hallway above in an eerie orange glow. His head tilted when it went out, leaving you entrapped in darkness. The sixth sense he suspected you had only became more prominent, he breathed easier without light to touch him and you had turned it off. Further invitation, of course, so he took the first step, then another. The faint creak of the wooden boards didn't seem to alert you to his presence, the light stayed absent and he appeared in your doorway to find you settled in bed. Sleep hadn't found you yet, but he had and you stirred when you felt the unease brought about by an unknown gaze lingering on your body. At first, the shadows all but consumed him, then his figure became clearly visible. Just an outline, tall and broad, but you recognized him.

Slowly, you propped yourself up with eyes that were wide open. You wanted this, but now he was here and you hadn't a clue of what to do, or what he would do. Words escaped you, but you didn't fear his silence this time nor the deafening hum that sat heavily between the two of you. It was energy, an unspoken desire to be near to each other was what it was, you knew that now without a doubt in your mind. He'd come back, just as you hoped he would, but for what purpose and why was it you had wanted him to?

Your legs slid off the side of the bed until your bare toes met the cold wooden floor below. He'd yet to move, so you tested the limits of what he would allow. His eyes, unseen, studied those carefully made movements closely. There was no distance to dull your actions anymore and he soaked each one in as he watched you stand, fascinated. He didn't have to hear it to know your heart was racing within your much smaller frame, you were prey approaching a predator, but it wasn't fear he found in your curious eyes, it was awe. As if he was just as unreal to you as you were him. His head lowered with his gaze, because now you truly were face to face. Your neck in turn craned up as you listened to that familiar whistle of breath through his mask.

"Michael," you whispered up at him.

He rushed forward so abruptly you didn't even have time to scream. He backed you against the wall, but didn't touch you, not right away. He simply stood there, shoulders heaving, head down in front of you. His breath was uneven and his fists were clenched tightly at his sides as if it was an arduous struggle to withhold himself.

But from what? You thought as you stood there silently searching for the answer you'd clearly die to retrieve. He didn't have his knife, at least not within his grasp or reach. His hands were his only weapons and he hadn't even used those on you, not in the way you had expected. Your hands remained at your side, unmoving and his gaze dipped to one. His breath evened as he studied it contemplatively, his shoulders stilled and he seemed puzzled, or so you assumed. Hesitantly, he reached for one. His fingers grazed your skin, slowly grappling for more purchase. Finally, he hooked one of them with yours and brought it to the other. He brought it up and you watched, confused as he traced the lines on your palm that were visible to him in the moonlight. The cool glow even allowed you to catch a glimpse of those eyes you'd searched for the last time he was in your home. One was an eerie, milky white, left without sight from one of the many wounds he'd gathered throughout the years. The other was the lightest of blue, icy in color, but there was warmth hidden somewhere inside that fought through as he allowed himself to fall prey to your touch once more. It was his choice this time, he was very aware as he pressed his palm to yours. Delicate and dangerous were the only two words that came to Michael's mind, because though you couldn't overpower him physically, he felt weakened in ways more damning than bodily wounds.

"Why are you here?"

Your whispered words did little to distract him from the dilemma he held in his hands. If anything, he should have been asking you that question. Why were you stillhere, allowing him to dive further into obsession, destroying everything he knew to be true about himself with just the tips of your fingers? It was cruel and unjust that someone like yourself, someone so small and seemingly insignificant held such power over him. It was infuriating, maddening and he wondered if you knew as his eyes met yours only to melt further. You didn't look away, no, instead you matched his intensity with brows that were furrowed in curiosity. That uncomfortable pounding in his chest returned and what he could only assume was rage forced his breath to quicken again, but then you intertwined your fingers with his, which made everything stop all at once.

"Are you going to kill me?"

The answer to that question was what frightened him most. Without warning, he ripped his hand from yours along with his gaze and turned to disappear down the hallway. It was an unforgivable mistake on his part to return to you, that much was certain, because no, he wasn't going to kill you. In fact, the encounter hadn't given him a single answer as to what he wanted with you, it only worsened his confusion and brought about doubt of himself. Perhaps he did have a weakness, a living, breathing one. He needed to escape it, kill whatever it was inside of him that betrayed him so wickedly. Your footsteps behind him made him grit his teeth as he strode through the door he'd left open to leave you to the night, but your hand found his wrist before he could vanish.

"Wait," you demanded.

The sudden and unwelcome contact forced his instinct back to the surface and before you could blink, you were forced back into your kitchen with a hand around your neck. The wind was knocked out of you when your back hit the counter and you squeezed your eyes shut, afraid that perhaps you'd finally crossed that thin line you'd been treading on since the moment you met him, but his grip didn't tighten. He watched you brace yourself and in turn, crumbled at the sight. Prey, he thought to himself, you were supposed to look just as you were with his hand around your throat. You were supposed to be frightened, you were supposed to beg for your life and yet, when your trembling hands met his wrist, it was the last thing he wanted you to do. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear you beg, he did, but he wasn't quite sure what for as he had you pinned with his own body pressed against you. He'd seen this dance before, but it wasn't one he ever bothered to learn. Human touch such as this for Michael only ended death, he'd never been forced to consider any other use for his hands. He thought back to his own worries earlier that night and realized he was indeed out of his depth, just as he was afraid he would be. He had you exactly where he wanted you, but what now? His head canted to the side as he watched your chest rise and fall in quick succession. Your eyes were still glued shut, anticipating death, but death had a different idea. The safety of darkness still surrounded the two of you and with your eyes refusing to open, Michael lifted his mask up. You felt his fingers brush your jaw and inch their way into your hair to hold the back of you head, then you felt something else. A kiss was what he gave you, gentle and inexperienced, but in his softness you received the answer you'd searched so diligently for. He lingered there for a moment, stunned by his own actions and more so when you returned them. You kept your hands on his wrist and kept them still, aware that this was his limit, this was all he could handle for the time being, but you guided him in your wordless response. Your lips pressed firmer against him, you moved slowly, but deepened it with each press. His hand began to tangle in your locks, clenching as his mind screamed for release, for violence. It was an effort to fight off those instincts, but he did so valiantly just for a few more moments of this, of softness, of you. You carefully lifted your hand to place it over his, which still rested at the back of your head, fingers knitted tightly in your hair. He relented, just slightly, but when you let out that soft sigh, it was too much. It was too intimate and just like that, his lips left you as did his hand. When you opened your eyes you were alone, as if his touch had simply been a dream all along. The only evidence of reality was the door, which he'd left ajar to leave you with nothing but the sound of wind to fill his absence.

Questions were what he'd left the first time, but now, it was frustration that consumed you in his wake. You'd gotten an answer, in a sense. He didn't want to kill you, he wanted you and you kept it safely hidden within the walls of your pericardium that he wasn't alone in his desire. He left you wanting, wishing and waiting for a killer to return and finish what he'd started, for him to claim you as his own. The mere thought had you unraveling, because what on earth was wrong with you? Why had you allowed such a thing to happen in the first place? Why did you kiss him? More importantly, why did you love every second of it? His lack of experience hadn't dulled the sensations he forced upon you, if anything it enhanced them. Haddonfield's reaper had chosen you and spared you the scythe for a kiss, one you couldn't seem to stop from popping into your mind at the most inconvenient times. It haunted you and it stripped you of each and every one of the morals you thought you'd had, based on one simple fact; you wanted more. However, this time months passed and you were forced to find ways to pluck him from your mind, which meant when a coworker called you up to ask if you'd like to go to dinner, you said yes. Of course, putting an end to the fantasy of Michael wasn't quite as simple as it sounded. Dinner was spent with your head on a swivel, half paranoid he'd find you and be less than pleased, half hoping he would and save you from the drab conversation you'd allowed yourself to endure for the sake of distraction. You were right to think he'd be watching and safe to say 'less than pleased' was an understatement. Jealousy was something Michael wasn't sure he'd ever felt before. In fact, he was convinced he really was starting to hate you for bringing so many emotions he didn't understand to the surface. Torture was clearly what you intended to put him through, but that was something he was well versed in and as he watched you kiss your date goodnight, he made a decision. You were indeed going to learn your lesson and if it ended in death, well, that would be your price for causing him such agony, because he didn't expect to behave gently after watching someone else's hands, someone else's lips touch what was his.

You kept your smile in place as you politely waved goodbye, but once the taillights disappeared you allowed it to fall with a groan and quickly wiped your mouth. Your date's enthusiasm for you was beyond unreciprocated, but you'd play the part well, perhaps too well. Hopefully he wouldn't call, you thought to yourself as you strolled up the walkway to your front door. You let out a sigh when you realized you'd forgotten to leave the porch light on and you had about a million keys to sift through in total darkness, of course. To make an already annoying night worse, you tripped. You managed to catch yourself, but the keys hadn't been so lucky. You bent down to retrieve them, cursing under your breath as you stood back up. You fumbled with them a moment more before finally pushing the key into the lock, but that was about as far as you got. You hadn't even heard footsteps to alert you to his presence, but suddenly, you found yourself pushed face first against the door and before you could let out a scream, a hand covered your mouth. It was familiar, the missing fingers were a dead give away. His other went to yours and forced you to turn the key. Why he'd even bothered unlocking it was a mystery, because he promptly turned you around and threw you over his shoulder before he broke the door open with brute force. Struggling was no use, he had a vice grip on your hips as he strode through the threshold with purposeful steps only to drop you on the counter.

"What the hell is your deal with me?" You spat out before you could stop yourself.

But before you even had time to regret your choice in tone, his hand was around your neck. That gentle grip he once had was lost and replaced with a menacing one that took your breath away. Your hands wrapped around his wrist with rage of your own at this cat and mouse game he was playing with you.

"M-Michael," you stuttered out with a pained expression, "whatever you're gonna do, just do it already."

You worried you'd come to regret that statement when he pushed you back on the cool marble with such force it made your head spin. His hand momentarily abandoned it's hold on you and you pushed yourself up just slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. The blue you'd once seen in his left one had turned dark, his pupil was overblown to erase any color, but it wasn't death you saw in that eerie gleam. Far from it. A different instinct had taken over and he knew exactly what he wanted to do to you. He quickly reached behind you and brandished a knife from the block on your counter. His movement's were hurried, frantic even as he tugged you forward by your hips so his waist rested between your legs. Then, he raised the knife up and you braced yourself. You must have mistaken that darkness in his eyes, it must have been bloodlust, you thought to yourself, but when he plunged it down it wasn't your flesh that tore. He'd taken it to your jeans, cutting them just enough so that when he tossed the knife behind you and grabbed each side of the fabric with his hands, he was able to rip them clean off of you. He didn't need the blade to remove the rest and now you were almost entirely exposed to him, save the top you silently resented him for destroying next. It looked expensive, Michael thought with a smirk behind his mask, but it looked much better torn to pieces. He was almost as unkind to his own clothes, he tugged the zipper of his coveralls down with such force the metal came loose and fell to the floor, leaving him free of any further confinement. You didn't even have time to glance down before he tossed on of your legs over his shoulder, pushed the other one to the side and plunged into you so deeply you feared you'd be ripped in two, just like your jeans. He allowed you no time to adjust, or catch your breath before he set an inhuman pace, one arm wrapped tightly around the leg over his shoulder and the other hand gripping your thigh hard enough to draw blood with his fingernails. He was silent, frighteningly so, while you failed to do the same. In fact, it seemed he was hell bent on making you scream, because once he found one particular spot that made your eyes roll back and your mouth hang open, he never left it. He managed to hit it each and every time he pushed into you and he relished in those gasps that quickly turned to wanton cries. Pain mingled with pleasure in a dizzying manner and you tried desperately to reach for him, to find anything to steady yourself on, but it was useless. He wanted to see you struggle and you were doing it perfectly, but if you wanted stability, he'd allow some. He stopped abruptly, bottoming out and drawing a pitiful whine from your open mouth so he could hook his fingers over your bottom teeth. With his thumb under your chin and his index and middle lodged in your mouth, he pulled you up by your jaw, the pain dulled by the overwhelming pleasure he'd pummeled your nearly limp body with. He brought you close, your half lidded eyes struggled to stay open as he lifted the bottom half of his mask up with his other hand and pressed his lips to your ear.

"Mine," he growled, low and harshly.

His breath fell hot over your bare neck, causing the ache between your legs to peak, begging for him to continue, but instead of giving you what you wanted right away, he pulled back and left you empty to readjust his mask. You whined, reaching for him before he grabbed your shoulders and turned you. He bent you over the counter and forced himself back inside of you while his hand snaked around your throat. He lifted you back up so that your back was pressed hard against his chest and the mouth of his mask was back at your ear.

"Say it," he breathed as he thrusted forward, slow but forceful.

You'd barely registered that he'd spoken the first time and now, with him buried so deeply inside of you, your cognizance was long gone. Each time he moved he seemed to go deeper, fully aware of the torture he was delivering in forcing you to hang on the edge of your orgasm. He could feel your body tensing around him, he knew you were dangerously close. Your head fell back on his shoulder as you struggled to form the response he desired.

"Yours," you whispered, but that didn't seem to satisfy him.

He thrusted harder, driving your body upwards. When your hand went to steady yourself on the counter, he grabbed it and held it tightly behind your back while the other squeezed your neck until you felt light as air. He grit his teeth, fighting off his own orgasm for the sake of punishing you further.

"Say it," he repeated with malice.

You were right there, so close to release that your mouth simply couldn't stay shut, but it wasn't breath you were so desperate for. You held it, brows furrowed in a mix of pain and pleasure so brutal you weren't entirely sure you'd survive another thrust. You felt his teeth at your neck, biting down as he let out a groan. It appeared he was in torment too, desperate in his own right to find release inside of you. His voice had driven you to madness, but those breathy moans he couldn't seem to hold in any longer were what sent you over the edge and that only made his struggle to maintain control harder. Your body pulsed so deliciously around him. You were tight enough to begin with, but now? It was too much and his head dipped lower in the crook of your neck to nip at your shoulder as his hips began to tremble from the exerted effort to keep his pace controlled. Not yet, not until he heard you say it.

"Michael," you gasped with your eyes wide open, though between the lack of oxygen and the intensity of pleasure, all you saw was white, "I'm yours, all yours. I'm yours."

Your whispered promises never stopped, they fell from your lips like little prayers and they had him spiraling. His ragged breath and the way each of his hands gripped you tighter and tighter should have broken you, but you clung to what little air he allowed for more of him. He'd long abandoned that slow, meticulous pace to chase his own high with a vengeance. His hand left your wrist and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you flush against him when he found release. He bent forward, panting underneath his mask as he pressed you against the marble countertop.

"Yours," he heard you continue whispering and he loosened his grip on your neck.

He stayed like that for awhile, still buried deep within you and baffled by the entire ordeal, but you were so warm. No part of him wanted to separate from you or leave those little whispers behind. You felt his thumb absentmindedly brushing circles over your jaw and you supposed that must have been what brought you back to total consciousness, but you stayed still, afraid that if you moved he'd leave. His sudden softness was unexpected given the brutality he'd just displayed, but you found yourself melting into it. Between the exhaustion that had settled into your bones and the delirium that filled your head, those rough, calloused hands of his were exactly what you needed to bring you back down to earth with grace. He too was warm and you couldn't help but press your cheek into his palm, which caused his brow to furrow behind his mask. When his head withdrew from the crook of your neck, you let out a weak moan in protest, but he continued his departure from you in silence.

"Michael," he heard you mutter softly as he struggled through his own haze to gather himself.

He paused to observe your wrecked state. You still hadn't moved a muscle and he wasn't entirely sure you could even if you wanted to. He'd annihilated you, had you for his own and he should leave now. Right?

"Please don't leave me," you whispered.

You didn't expect him to oblige your simple request, you knew he'd already far surpassed his limits. You were killing him, he thought to himself and in such a strange way. It was instinct you'd stolen along with something else he supposed he did have after all, because as he watched you try and fail to push yourself up, it skipped a beat. He was aware he could blame it on age or his usual pent up fury, but he knew that would be a lie. It was you. You were both a curse and a cure to the quietus that possessed him, a plague upon the heart he once thought had lost it's rhythm to violence. It was mercy you'd infected him with when you touched him, when you healed him and mercy was something so foreign to Michael, but for you, he supposed he could try to give you his own version. You hadn't the energy to even feel surprise when he took you into his arms, but you had just enough left to smile as you rested your cheek against his chest. Perhaps he'd be gone when you woke or maybe he'd stay. Either way, you were Michael's. Or was it the other way around?

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