#maybe just chill in the bed after that idk
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rosicheeks · 2 years ago
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🥰
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piningpercussionist · 8 months ago
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(ooc)
Fellas. What if I just. Replied to shit completely out of order? How would we feel abt that?
(I'm still having blockage of the writer's variety... but I want to try to respond to things. So badly. But also my inherent desire to be as chronological as possible...... sgchdhhdjcshdj)
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erasedcitizen2 · 2 days ago
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for anyone else out there struggling with insomnia, I'm sharing this just in case it helps anyone else: my doctor suggested 5 mg melatonin for me. It didn't make me sleep better and also gave me pretty bad side effects like having brain fog the day after, like I was completely unable to think and my reactions were slowed down to the point I would've been a danger in traffic. but I switched to a lower dose of 3 mg melatonin and not only do I have no side effects from that dose but ALSO IT WORKED. I've actually consistently slept 7-8 hours for the past week since I switched dose. I don't know the science behind that but lowering the dose worked better to put me to sleep.
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sofastuffing · 2 years ago
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this isn't meant to be derogatory but i think one massive sign that someone's a newbie artist is the way they add very prominent warnings not to repost their work
#it's bc they (ie. me) have seen a lot of like. art youtubers and others who make content ABOUT creating art stress the evils of reposting#which isn't wrong. reposting someone's online work is Bad in the context of individual smaller artists#but like. babygirl. i say this in the nicest way possible. nobody knows your art exists let alone is planning to repost it#i feel like after a certain amount of fame artists get more chill about reposts since they're kind of inevitable at that point#plus a larger artist isn't really harmed that much by it#and vice versa i feel like the people most stressed about reposts are newbies who. aren't really at risk of reposts#for the record this is not endorsing reposts. credit the fucking artist or die#it's just. a trend i've noticed#(or maybe i'm just surrounded by more chill artists and there are actually plenty of famous artists who are neurotic about reposts. idk)#apologies if this isn't structued very well I'm. rambling#not art™#art#reposting#edit: oh yeah forgot to add i think it's also a lack of perspective (which tbf is kind of obvious)#a lot of young artists online view the discourse(?) around making art through a very online lens since that's all their exposed to#which shows through even in vocabulary like 'repost'#anyways i need to go 2 Bed goodnight#i say all this like i'm some big artist lol. i'm not i'm just in that awkward intermediate phase#both skill wise and popularity wise (though ik popularity doesn't actually work* like that)#*like you cannot work to gain online popularity the way you can work to improve art skill. it's primarily luck that gets you Big#and very few people get lucky anyway goodnight for real now
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thethingything · 2 years ago
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for the last couple of days our brain has kind of felt the way it does when we've not had any caffeine and our ADHD gets really bad and we start getting distracted all the time and having racing thoughts and being generally unhinged, except we've been drinking energy drinks so I know it isn't that.
our psychosis definitely started flaring up as well because we've had the usual stress induced hallucinations we get (usually just spiders and little orbs of light. it's whatever) but also really intense paranoia over how people perceive us, but it's combined with the racing thoughts and we keep just rambling and jumping from one thing to another while freaking out about doing exactly that.
so yeah anyway if I talk to anyone and it looks like I'm typing stuff really frantically or it doesn't make sense properly, that's probably why. I just felt like this was worth clarifying in case anyone noticed and wondered what the hell was going on
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milktiicup · 16 days ago
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do you write for mr scarletella? :) if so, may i request jealous scarlet who makes attempts to get closer to reader (court them) after seeing how close they are to mr crawling
persistence is key
That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact. “What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. “You slow in head?”
‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ��� ˚✮ yeah idk, lowkey some enemies to (potential) lovers, i have no idea how to characterise mr scarletella, but i tried my best and then i kinda got a little too invested in trying to spin the fic the way i wanted and wrote a little more than usual... sorry if ur disappointed, i tried to keep the whole courting/jealous thing subtle but still kinda there >w<
warnings. canon typical violence >w<
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You’re not sure when you met the man in red, but you know he’s stalking you now. And it’s getting seriously old. Unlike the ghosts and monsters you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, this one doesn’t know how to take a hint.
Your first unofficial encounter with him is something that sent shivers down your spine, tucked away under Mr. Crawling’s arm and clutching onto his kimono for dear life. The second encounter was much worse- separated from your other worldly protector and left running down an almost comically long and creepy hallway where he just magically appears in front of you. 
You don’t even think twice before you smash the crowbar into his form with all your strength, but it was futile the way he flickered? in front of your own eyes and left a weird moist residue on your weapon. You scowled, and rudely pointed a finger at him- “What the hell’s your problem, dude?”
In response, he leaned in close- so close that your nose nearly touched his. The tilt of his scarlet umbrella cast a dark shadow over you, and as he peered down, one black eye appeared from behind his hair, locking onto you with a soul-piercing stare. You felt stripped bare under that gaze, vulnerable and exposed, like he was seeing straight into your core, uncovering forgotten memories, pieces of yourself even you couldn’t remember. He smiled—a slow, unsettling curl of his lips that chilled you to your bones—and said something you didn’t understand. It sounded like a question, maybe, though you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care. You spat out a few choice words and swung again, hard.
At least for a while, he left you alone.
Has it been days, weeks, or even months since you’ve got here? It was difficult to keep track, and it was difficult to even care anymore. The place was, without a doubt, growing on you by the day. Even if it was filled with hostile creatures that wanted to eat you sometimes, and when your skin started to get discoloured and you had the inhuman itch that just could never be satisfied- it wasn’t that bad! Hell, you even made a few friends and claimed a comfortable bed in some random room you found.
However, just as you finally started settling into the place, you had your third encounter with Mr. Scarletella.
It started with a dream- from before you came to this world. That man in red… A test of courage, your friends called it- spending a night in those so-called ‘Ghost Apartments.’ Your friends hadn’t known it then, but you were quite familiar with the building for reasons, and set yourself up in a cosy corner and the night was supposed to sail smoothly.
A rumour had surfaced- a tale of a ruin that appears only on rainy days, where you’re warned never to give your name to the figure you’ll meet there. That figure, they said, would take your soul. At the end of a dim hallway, standing silently under a scarlet umbrella, he was waiting. The man in red, eyes hidden beneath his hair. He was watching you. Or was he? Somehow you could feel his stare even if you couldn’t see it. 
You woke up, heart pounding, muttering a string of curses. You groan, rubbing a hand down your face. The discoloration of your skin hadn’t gotten any worse, but it hadn’t gotten better, either. The longer you stayed here, the more the place left its mark. As long as you remained relatively human, and the only thing this place took from you was your memory, you weren’t too fussed. How could you possibly miss something from the other world when all you could remember was smashing a crowbar into someone’s head?
You swing your legs over the bed, feet touching the cold ground. The chill sent a jolt up your spine, and it was almost too tempting to get back under the cosy, warm sheets. You stretch your arms above your head, bones cracking and popping into place and mumble a hazy ‘Good morning’ to Mr. Crawling that should have been in the other bed. Silence wasn’t something you were used to around him- and you whip around so fast that you gave yourself whiplash.
Cursing, you grab your crowbar and stumble out of the room with a hand rubbing your tender neck. You didn’t need to look far- you could see Mr. Crawling at the end of the hallway.
And Mr. Scarletella. 
The man in red was bent over to be face to face with Mr. Crawling, all-too-familiar sinister smirk on his face. Mr. Crawling didn’t look so happy either, and they seemed to be having an argument. You stomp your feet as you make your way over to the two, hand tightening on your crowbar as you ready yourself to fight literal static if it meant leaving your best friend in here alone.
“You,” you scowl, pointing your weapon at him. “You problem?”
Mr. Crawling scurries to your side, a hand gripping onto your clothes. “Dangerous… should get away!” he urges, tugging. 
You shush him with a pat on his head with your free hand and continue to glare at that menace. 
“You like them?” is the only thing Mr. Scarletella asks with a tilt of his head, smile seemingly disappearing into thin air.
Glancing at Mr. Crawling, his face covered in worry- you feel the familiar itch of your skin. You take a breath, going through all the reasons why you can’t actually kill Mr. Scarletella, and loosen the grip on your crowbar. From what you can sense right now, he’s not actually that much of a threat. Just a nuisance that can’t seem to leave you alone. 
“Them friend,” you reply, deadpan. What type of question was that anyway? This guy was a freak. 
That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact.
“What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. You turn back to Mr. Scarletella. “You slow in head?”
The smile on Mr. Scarletella’s face falters just for a moment, but it quickly returns, more chilling than before. He stands there, towering above you. Despite your snarky comment, he doesn’t look offended- no, it’s almost as if he’s intrigued by your resistance.
You tighten your hold on the crowbar. “You problem.” You frown. “Go away.”
Instead, his grin deepens, his head tilting at such an unnatural angle that you can feel your stomach churn. It’s as though he’s studying you, savouring every little bit of your discomfort. Surely, turning your head at that angle is gonna hurt… You audibly gulp.
“Problem later,” Mr. Scarletella says, and with an unsettling flicker, he’s gone. 
The next time you saw him after that was in less tense circumstances. It was unsettling after whatever that was with his coy little ‘Problem later’, you weren’t going to worry too much about it for the time being. You decided you’ll worry about it when the problem occurs, which probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas you had. 
The earth shakes, and you’re completely cut off from Mr. Crawling. Wandering down hallways, resting in random rooms- you never really felt alone. You turn a corner, dizziness growing by the minute, and pause.
“You again,” you sigh. You don’t even bother lifting your crowbar at him. “What do you want?”
He appears directly in front of you, causing you to stumble back a few steps at just how tall he is. He bends down to your eye level, umbrella covering both of you once again. “Give name?” he asks. 
“No. Go away.”
“Give name. Teach.”
“Go away!”
“Teach name.”
“Fine! My name’s… you pause. You didn’t actually have to give him your real name, did you? “...Silvair, or something.”
He gets closer to your face. You take another few steps back, but not before you get the smell of blood and dampness off of him. It takes all the willpower in your body to not scrunch your face up. 
“Wrong name.”
“So what? It’s a name.” You scoff. Mr. Scarletella is silent, eerily so, and you can feel his piercing gaze stare through you once more. You awkwardly avoid eye contact, and clear your throat. “I’m… gonna go now, okay?” You turn on your feet and only make it a few steps.
“You teach them name?”
Them? Mr. Crawling? That guy doesn’t even understand the concept of his own name! The scowl feels as if it’s permanently etched onto your face. You whip around, pointing another disapproving finger into his red raincoat. It feels fuzzy… and wet. It grosses you out, almost. More than Mr. Gap’s greasy hair.
“No,” you hiss. “I don’t even remember my own name.” He stares, silently.  “Me,” you point to yourself, “not know name.”
“...Not know name?” he echoes. What you said has him lost, you could see that. 
Just like that, he’s gone again. You don’t see him for a few more days, nor do you find Mr. Crawling. You spend your time aimlessly wandering, knowing eventually you’ll most likely find someone you know in a friendly manner, and not pondering if every ghost you come across is a friend or a foe. 
You awake promptly to a sound of a chainsaw revving. As if it was a morning routine, you stumble to your feet, grasping for your crowbar that should have, without a doubt, been next to you… only to grasp at air. Okay, now you are starting to feel a little panic.
Through trial and error, you knew that whatever wound you receive will heal, with time- but it doesn’t mean you were looking forward to being maimed to shreds with a chainsaw! 
“Hehe.”
You froze, heart racing, and slowly turn around. There that wretched little being was- the stupid little fucker in the goat costume. The ‘Hooded Child’, the thing was termed. In it’s stupid little fucking hands, it held you handy-dandy crowbar that’s been with you thick and thin. Your stomach churns. 
You gulp and face back towards the open doorway- a long black abyss, stretching on and on, with only the haunting bounce of that chainsaw, crawling along the walls. That chainsaw that was about to mince you in a matter of seconds. That chainsaw that was approaching you rapidly.
Frantically, you grab the nearest thing you could reach for. A metal chair. You wince. Probably not the best thing you could’ve grabbed, but it’ll have to do. It’s a matter of- well, technically life or life, but still! You could feel the sweat on your palms, the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your heart hammering through your ribcage. 
You lift the chair above your head as the monster comes into view- a tall, masked being in a strapless floor length black dress… wait, why was she dressed so sexy? Your surprise leads you to hesitate as she rushes at you with her machine. You let out a yelp as you whack the chair down in front of you, metal clanging echoing throughout the room.
Complete silence. Not even the sound of that chainsaw. Not even the sound of metal.  
“Huh?” You blink, once, twice, thrice at the sliced up body of that creature, blood splatter on your clothes. There was blood even on the ceiling, too… You drop the chair in utter confusion.  “What the hell?”
“Help you.”
“You again!” You spin on your feet, meeting the dull eyes of Mr. Scarletella. You’re about to huff and puff this guy into next week, but pause. You leave your accusing finger down by your side. This guy just saved you from that thing. You avert your eyes and scuff your feet against the ground with a cough into your fist. “Uhm… Thank you.”
Wow, this guy really has an intense stare… Way to make things unnecessarily intense and awkward. 
“Protect you,” he says. “You like me?”
“Take me out to dinner first, man!” you exclaim, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not like. You not bad. Not good. You okay.”
Mr. Scarletella dons an out of place frown that even makes you feel a little uneasy. “Them protect you. You like them.”
“Them friend,” you stress, finally meeting his gaze once more. You kind of regret it. This guy doesn’t blink. “You…” Weird? Off-putting? Freaky? “...unsafe.”
“Me safe. Protect you. Help you.” 
You sigh. “Unsafe to friend.”
He just stands there, holding that stupid umbrella, with that unblinking stare. You blink at him and squint your eyes. His facial expression doesn’t change. Completely unfazed. You can’t even tell if he’s confused, or upset, or whatever he could possibly be. Your breath hitches as his unsettlingly familiar smile returns.
He tilts his head. “Me good. Me show you.”
Then he’s gone again. You can finally breathe. Your heart is still pumping. You slide against the wall, landing on the ground and resting your head against your knees. You clutch at your raincoat with shaking fists. 
Mr. Scarletella - you knew he was meant to be dangerous, but he just saved you a whole lot of pain. Even if he was still a threat to Mr. Crawling, and hounds you for your name, asks you weird questions, could he honestly be as bad as you originally thought he was? You can’t deny that he did save you… but his presence is more dangerous than comforting. He’s both a threat and an aid, but never clear on which he’ll be at any given moment. One thing is for certain, however, and that was that he was persistent for your attention. Wait… 
Oh my good God, does he like you?
“Heh…”  Chuckling, you tuck your hair behind your ear. “I am pretty cute.”
You stand, and decide it’s better to think about while on the move back to Mr. Crawling. You reach for your crowbar, and curse. Of course. The Hooded Child took it with them when they disappeared when Mr. Stalkerella showed up. Well, you sigh as you drag the chair behind you as you exit the room, at least you have a temporary weapon, for now…
Making it back to Mr. Crawling didn’t take that much longer. He greets you, frown on his face and long arms wrapping around your waist. “Me worried! You gone long time!”  
“Long time,” you agree, bending down to his level. You ruffle his hair, a smile finally sliding onto your face. It quickly turns into a pout as you wave your empty hands. “Lost attack tool.” 
Mr. Crawling points to the spilled blood on your raincoat with a high pitched noise. You sheepishly giggle, and gesture to the chair behind you. He tilts his head, processing, before letting out his all familiar laugh. You sigh in content, glad to see a friendly face and let him pet you for a while. 
He stops petting you, and turns around. “Attack tool!” he smiles wide, your trusty weapon in his grey hands. “Them give me.”
“Them?” you repeat, taking the crowbar, twisting and turning it in your grasp. “Them who?”
“Them!” 
Curse this damn language. 
“Mr. Crawling,” you hold his face in your hands, “what look like?”
His smile falters, and if you could see his eyebrows, you’d imagine they would be furrowed. He takes a moment to think, and points to the blood on your raincoat, and attempts to imitate holding an…
Umbrella.
You stare. And stare. And stare. You can’t even begin to process what Mr. Crawling just said to you, debating maybe you actually were growing crazy and it was finally time to bounce out of this place- andddd of course, you notice a red flicker at the end of the hallway. You tilt your head past Mr. Crawling.
That scarlet umbrella tilts slightly, and just for a split second, you catch a glimmer of that piercing dark eye staring straight at you, as if watching every nerve fire under your skin. You can see his smile from here, as if it was a smug ‘I told you so’ but it was actually a ‘Me show you.’ 
Well… Mr. Scarletella did show you. And now you were just left, to put it simply, utterly fucking confused. It just drilled the narrative down deeper of the possibility that he did like you. So… what do you do now? Do you apologise for trying to smash his head in with a crowbar? For being so rude? 
How do you even apologise for something you don’t even remotely feel sorry for in the first place? Mr. Scarletella was creepy! …At least, he was kind of sweet. Not really- his intentions were anything but kind. But still!
You bite the inside of your cheek. …Is it wrong to feel a little flattered? There’s barely any romance in this place anyway!
In your world, things are either friend or foe, monster or protector. But Mr. Scarletella? He exists in some in-between place. Dangerous yet helpful. It’s as if he’s deliberately defying every category you try to force him into. And now, the memory of his unsettling question repeats in your mind- “You like me?” - echoing in your thoughts with a kind of twisted innocence that gnaws at you, a bit more with each repetition.
Mr. Crawling gives a soft, anxious chirp, tugging you slightly, drawing you out of your thoughts. He’s still eyeing the red figure warily. He points. “Them… dangerous? Them good?” 
“Not know,” you mumble, defeated. “Good, maybe.” You stand to your feet, crowbar falling off of your lap and clanging onto the floor. “Me, them, talk. You stay.”
Mr. Crawling makes a noise of protest, hand reaching out to grasp at your clothes. You reassuringly ruffle his hair once more, and make your way to the end of the hallway. You don’t hear him follow behind you.
Face to face, you stand in front of the smiling Mr. Scarletella. He stares down at you, unblinking, unmoving. 
“Can’t give name,” you remind him.
He leans his face down, ever so close. “Me like you.” A pause. “Want you.” Another pause. “You like me. Give me many human. Give me many blood.” 
Well… In your defence, you didn’t know your corpse dumping ground was Mr. Scarletella’s domain. 
“Getting in over your own head…” you grumble, and lift up your hand. You pinch your fingers together. “Little like you. Okay? LITTLE.” You wonder if this guy’s smile could get any bigger, geez… “You want big like?” You point your index towards him. “Be normal. Be good. Understand?”
“Normal? “Good?” He seems to chew over the words like they’re a foreign delicacy, his head tilting at that unnatural angle again. “For… you?”
“You good,” you waggle your finger at him, “I teach name. Maybe. If I can remember it…”
There’s an unnatural, prolonged silence in the air. You’re beginning to feel the awkward tension once more, but your resolve refuses you to break the unblinking eye contact you keep with him. 
And finally, he speaks once more, agreeing to your proposition, “You teach good, you teach name.”
You hold back your groan- whatever this dance you two were playing, was going to take a long time to progress.
But at least something is better than nothing, right?
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pizzapizzadickz · 2 years ago
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astrow0rldx · 3 months ago
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pac tarot : their sexual fantasies 🧸 18+
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𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝
current partner/crush, future spouse or next partner (your choice for who your reading for); very straightforward; piles count left to right.
pile one
ooooh okay sexies. the intensity is very turned on by you. they think your very flattering, sexy, arousing. a good sex partner, good fuck and they want YOU bad. (not in a bad way for everyone just sexually). they want to just snatch you up, pull you to the edge of the bed and stick it in you. snatch off your clothes. they don’t want to wait till the destination, we can do it in the car. they want to explore your body and is eager to get into it. fingering, drilling you (going rough/fast), backshots. they want you to be kissing on them, sucking on them, riding them!! and really play the role as their girlfriend who is like their sexual partner with intimacy into it, chemistry and love into it.
i could see mild possesiveness and territorialness. don’t want anyone interfering, joining. they put you on a high pedestal sexually foreal, i can’t guarantee your their favorite it’s different for everyone but .. yk. their dark masculinity rises in them when it comes to their sexual fantasies about you. not really immature but heavily lustful. you turn them on, you make them excited, they fantasize about nasty sex with you. cumming to you, cumming on you. bending you over, drilling you and smacking your ass. and just real nasty nasty sex. i can see on the couch to. i can see them wanting to do 2 things at a time while y’all are fucking. so if it’s missionary, rubbing your clit at the same time, fucking you and grabbing another area at the same time, 69. they want you both to give each other mutual pleasure where it’s balanced in some way and as they explore and be nasty nasty you be a good lover.
if you guys work together, not together, or not to present in each other life’s they want to add you to their schedule. “i been working all day….come home blow your back out, whatever brent faiyaz said. intimate intimate sex. with the music on, to whoever playlist. chilling, for smokers smoking after sex and nice sensual aftercare. maybe lights if one of you guys have them. rubbing on your back, hugging you kissing on you and deep missionary. be what you need. if you guys haven’t had sex they might be definitely fantasizing and plotting on how to make this happen, where, how it will be.
pile two
his role 7of swords, yours 5 of swords. omg TW⚠️ idk what cnc stands for but i think it goes with the grape kink, lol not a sexual vocabularist. anyways yea that’s their sexual fantasy, is them sneaking, doing something not right, taking it from you and your like a victim in this situation. like they might think they own you, and your theirs. control issues. might want to literally kidnap you. for some of the people who your reading about is in another relationship that their cheating on them with, etc for you. or their just dark asf and sexually fantasize about cheating on you and getting away with it while your always there. like i said control issues. they want you to be enslaved to them. they like your boobs, hair. and during sex they want to do a little bit of everything.
they fantasize about if you guys have awkwardness, or fears between you to but it’s like y’all know y’all just have a crush on each other. or maybe if you guys were to be alone and you were nervous, then the emotional side comes out and they fantasize about them giving you love, care, nurture. showering you with love, praise making you feel comfortable and secure.
they see you as a item, valuable item. that they would be lucky to have and settle down with. they fantasize about knowing what to do with you and very smart on what actions, moves, positions, etc with you. i can see them wanting to work to get you in their bed, foreplay, connecting and bonding before, teasing. they fantasize about making up, moving past stuff by fucking you and being a smart, present in the moment, logical not stuck in their heart. (and clever) so if you guys had a rough patch, they fantasize about moving on from that with sex.
pile three
what did you do🥺 they’re so sad. or they just fantasize about sad, emotional, deep vulnerability sex. they want to play the role as someone heart who’s broke, and their intensity of their sexual fantasies is so emo and down. did you fall out of love, did someone cheat. or are you that seducer that’s making them feel guilty for cheating. whatever this sad core is they sexually fantasize about it. read my seduction type earlier post and go to the coquette who is a female manipulator. they may want you to feel unfulfilled in the effort you did and the investment you spent (for some people). also they want to work you out and make you do a lot. definitely fantasize about you working that jaw till nut. they are going to work you like a pro where you don’t even want to go with anyone else or outside.
if something happened outside of sex where you hurt them, they want justice in the bed. “let’s settle this cat fight in the ring… in bed” or however that tiktok audio goes. they might idolize you, your life and wellbeing. your essence. not to unhealthy, just in awe, but heartbroken. could have voyeuristic tendencies (wanting to watch you, naked, have sex etc) for some people, if this person got dark psychological issues. sexually they may want to keep you stuck and confused, tease you psychologically. maybe play hard to get. even could want to get reactions out of you. they definitely want the sex to be investing a lot in, doing a lot. a whole workout, sweat session.
pile four
💕💞💘💗💓 chemistry, fireworks, stars sparkling. they want the lights, the right time, the scenery, the kisses. movie scene genre romance. they want you both to make love and deeply intimately vulnerably connect while you guys have sex. your having sex to express feelings, to bond and connect, to love. they are probably nervous, have anxiety, or overthinking.
not going to lie, whether it’s in bed or just psychologically they might want to push your boundaries, get through you. tame, control, manipulate you. play and fuck with you. something sneaky is going on in their sexual fantasies whether you have to sneak or their sneaking, plotting. they might want to love bomb you. even though their sexual fantasies of the roles they want you to play is so romantic, loving & bonding their sexual fantasies could be a hit it and quit it scenario. they might feel honestly guilty about it which is why they show the extra love lol (for some people).
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princeoftheeternalbog · 10 months ago
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Really sleepy and so like sleeping with you headcannons lets go
I'm not sure half of these are even on the same vibe so uhm like do with that what you will, this is so long and it's atrocious but oh well. Also sorry if its ooc😻
I think maybe one line of suggestive in Franky's and Namis.
I feel like i forgot someone tbh..
Luffy
Sleeps anywhere and everywhere but sleeps better and longer next to you. Thus he is obsessed with sleeping with you and whenever he wants to sleep now you have no choice you must take sleep too. He snores and drools but that's kind of a win because then he doesn't care if you do yk? Loves taking naps with you and it's a way he likes to connect with you. Always kisses you before you sleep and after you wake up. He's so comfortable to lie next to because he's so squishy and he holds you in like every way possible because he doesn't have to worry about circulation being cut off or anything.
Zoro
Again he will sleep literally anywhere. He sleeps like a log but somehow you are the only person able to wake him up, Robin theorises it's his observation haki keeping an eye on you but whatever it is you are Zoros designated alarm clock. However, there is about a 30% chance that when you wake him up, he will just snatch you to cuddle and go back to sleep. You cannot escape his hold and if you keep trying to wake him up he'll just bite you(gently) idk he's feral. Depends on his schedule if he's comfortable or not, usually when he's bulking up he's squishier and it's nice to cushion your head on.
Sanji
Never naps and it's so alarming. How does he survive on like 6 hours everyday we will never know. Anyways he's very clingy when he's sleepy but in like a 'I don't want to bother you so I'll just sit over here looking really forlorn', just take the man to bed. Is somehow so comfy to sleep with it's actually annoying because after a certain point you just can't sleep alone anymore. Always tucks you in if you don't get up at the same time as him and he'll leave little snacks and drinks on your bedside table for when you do wake up. Sanji has a more lean muscly build so it's more comfortable to have him lie on top of you and he is not complaining in the slightest.
Nami
Loves cuddling in the winter, hates it in the summer. She's really sensitive to the temperature yk it's that innate sense of the weather, so when it's hot she is hot. But she really likes being able to touch you, so after a certain point she just forces franky to install(invent) air conditioning and it makes the summer so much more bearable. After this there's no escape, you will be cuddling every night (unless boundaries yk). She always tries to convince you stay in bed in the morning...and it always works. She's very persuasive okay. Lets you use her as a pillow, like her chest or thighs or tummy, she just wants to be next to you.
Usopp
Really shy about sleeping with you the first time. Only the first time. After that well lets just say you created a monster. He's really good at telling when you need a nap, especially when you won't admit it. He just subtly ushers you to a comfy spot and then oh what a surprise your eyes are getting really heavy and hm Usopp wouldn't mind if you leant on him for a bit and then snoreville. He thinks you're so pretty when you're sleeping because you look so peaceful and relaxed, so even if he's not tired he will always agree to a nap. He will carry you to bed. And he's so casual about it too, I guess because you're not like watching him directly so he's just like really chill.
Robin
Actually has a nap schedule with her sleep schedule, she usually takes a very short one after lunch because her power can be quite draining and so once you find this out it's just a big cuddle session which she loves. She tends to keep you to a sleep schedule too but she won't force you if you are really insistent on staying up, but she will say I told you so when you're grumpy and feel sick the next day. So lovely to sleep with, she barely moves, never hogs the blanket, doesn't snore and somehow always stays very cool even in the summer. She also always makes sure you get into bed safely if you're drunk or ill, even if she is too, she really cares about you.
Franky
I won't lie...he builds himself an entire like cushion add-on thing so you can comfortably sleep next to him. He looks like a giant marshmallow man it's so funny. But also it's so cute because he takes your comfort so seriously and he runs multiple tests to make sure it's the absolute comfiest he can be for you. Loves naps but absolutely adores actual bedtime because of the whole like rituals and because he knows he doesn't have to get up in like an hour. Sometimes he will seriously overwork into the night, but on those occasions it's fairly easy to coax him to bed(😚). Also he wears one of those stupid scrooge hats tbh. And yes he says super in his sleep.
Brook
Really insecure about sleeping together because he thinks he'll be uncomfortable to lie next to or cuddle :(. On the other hand, you're also really worried because you don't want to accidentally hurt him while he's asleep, so for the first few months you sleep in beds that are close enough to hold hands instead. Eventually when you both become comfortable with the idea, you end up sleeping together almost every night and you occasionally nap together too. He wears really soft padded pajamas to make sure you're comfy. It's surprisingly more comfy to sleep next to him than you thought it would be.
I won't lie sometimes you do shit yourself waking up and seeing a skeleton.
Jinbei
So responsible, absolutely will stop you from napping if it's too close to bedtime. He knows sleep is important but he also knows a routine is important...and he can't bear watching you sleep alone so if you mess up your schedule then you're messing up his. This also works for if you try to stay up late too, he'll straight up snatch you off the ground and just carry you to bed no matter how much you complain. Really good cuddler, like really good. He always knows how much pressure to use while holding you and when you want more or less contact, knows when you need extra blankets, when you want to sleep in a hammock instead of a bed. He's got a sixth sense for your sleeping habits (read: he's desperately in love with you).
Law
Really grumpy about it. And really shy. Also he's a hypocrite, he'll stay up working till early hours of the morning but if you dare even try he's stood there staring at you like the mf eyes of notre dame. He always wants to cuddle but absolutely despises asking so again he just stares, you can always tell though because his ears go really red. Once you're in the bed though he's suddenly mr suave i will arrange everything, he will literally pick you up to manoeuvre you both into a better sleeping position and doesn't even bat an eye. He will nap but you have to trick him into it, he secretly loves it and lets you do it even when he knows what's happening.
Kidd
Needs like 15 million blankets to sleep. Uses one of said 15 million blankets to wrap you up like a burrito if you refuse to come sleep/nap with him. But actually it kinda does hurt his feelings so you can make up for it by playing with his hair until he falls asleep. Loves napping, he's like an overgrown cat and he'll sleep literally anywhere. But if it's anywhere other than his or yours (or killers) room he somehow? manages? to scowl? in his sleep? Yeah I don't know but it just stops his crew from messing with him because he looks so angry. Like Zoro he will literally just snatch you if you're in his vicinity, like you walk past for two seconds and then suddenly your vision flips and you're just stuck in this iron grip. He won't let you go and the crew just walk past you too.
Killer
You literally don't sleep together until you've been dating for like a fucking year. He really values his privacy and you really respect it which culminates in neither of you asking for such a long time that you both forget its a common couple thing. Until someone asks why you don't sleep together and then you guys are like huh idk and then that's the day you finally do. He's a good cuddler but he's a blanket hogger and you have to braid his hair before bed or it will end up in your mouth. On the plus side, he will make and leave breakfast or coffee (or anything you want) on your bedside table if he wakes up first. Also he always picks the best bedsheets and eventually buys two quilts so you can at least have some blanket when he snatches it all.
Ace
Naturally runs like a furnance and is hell to sleep next to in the summer. But he gets really grumpy if you dont sleep next to him so the crew make you suck it up I'm sorry. Literally you're like clawing at the walls as they throw you in and lock the door. Anyways he's a really good cuddler and so comfy to sleep with, and he always takes naps with his head in your lap. He loves to have you sleep on him too because he loves to look at your face and stroke you hair, idk he likes being slow with you even though he's really energetic. Being naturally sleepy and like a little radiator also tends to make the people around him sleepy so you two are banned from working next to each other because you both just end up napping.
Marco
He doesn't sleep a lot because well he doesn't really need to. But he adores sleeping with you. It's one of his like favourite 'bonding' activities, especially if you haven't been able to be alone for a while, he just loves being that close and the intimacy of sleeping in each others beds. On another note he's obsessed with making your bed really comfy because as a doctor he knows sleep hygiene is important and as a bird...well yk...nest. He's not shy about it but don't tease him because it will hurt his feelings and he won't tell you to save your feelings, beautiful sweet man that he is. LOVES a good nap/cuddle especially in the winter, if you both have spare time he just bundles you both in a big fluffy blanket and just exists with you for a bit.
Izou
He is surprisingly a really undignified sleeper, which is why you don't sleep in the same room for months when you first get together😭. When you finally do, you wake up with his arm in your face, his hair is everywhere, there's a pillow across the room, the blanket is somehow under the bed, you're just like wtf how. And Izou is just (⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠‿◡⁠`⁠). But he gets better over time because his brain becomes more aware of your presence as you become more important to him and then bedtime settles into comfy chaos. Pillows still end up everywhere but he is now your cushion so you don't really care. He doesn't really nap anywhere that's not his room but if you do then he carries you to bed :).
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mygnolia · 7 months ago
Text
sunghoon when you’re sick
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pairing: sunghoon x gn!reader headcannons!
cw: cursing, mentions of chicken noodle soup (the food not the song), married life, getting sick/colds, hoonie my bae
wc: 1k
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- okay so i feel like because he’s on the ice a lot
- he’s cold
- like in en-o-clock ep 20 behind he said it had been a while since he was on the ice so he was cold but that just means whenever he’s performing he’s not cold or not that cold at least
- and he’s acclimated to ice rink temperatures right?
- (and self projecting here but i myself am very cold all the time and it takes me a long time to get warm but i never get hot-?)
- so i feel like maybe one day its raining
- or the heater is broken and you have to suffer
- and you’re both on the bed, scrolling through your phones, but you’re shivering
- but sunghoon’s used to it
- only issue? he is not a raging furnace
- he’s a block of ice
- “sunghoon i’m cold.”
- “y/n, i can’t help you.” he’s just honest w/ everything atp
- “yes you can! cuddle me.” and you’d forcibly grab his arm and tangle urself with him
- you come to the very shocking realization that sunghoon is literally colder than the temperature outside.
- you pull away IMMEDIATELY and scowl at him
- he shrugs as if to tell you “i told you so.”
- he’s not offended he just accepted that he will never be warm
- man knows you’re just trying not to become the ice cube that he is
- omg sunghoon emotional brick and ice cube look at my…shape skills go
- so you’d go back to becoming one with the blankets but it doesn’t work and you’re like “hoonie :((“
- “yes dear.” sunghoon rolls his eyes, looking over at your covered figure nonetheless abd adjusts your blankets for you
- “can we cuddle, the blankets aren’t working :((“
- sunghoon probably gets an eye workout with how many times he rolls his eyes
- but he… L words u…so “okay. come here.” and he puts his phone down on the nightstand and gives you a hug
- internally he would laugh at your antics but he knows you’re just cold and he obviously wants to help but
- mans literally -2 degrees in body heat idk what to tell u
- but after a while you warm up the blankets EVENTUALLY get hotter
- u probs fell asleep and your body heat increased so you’re warm now
- he falls asleep too
- u end up with a COLD and he’s fine btw
- through the coughs and sniffles you blame him for not being your personal fireplace
- he goes “we slept together???? and you cuddled me??? for three hours??? fyi you could have gotten more blankets”
- ‘why can’t this man just spoonfeed u chicken noodle soup like a good bf’
- “can i at least have a kiss?” you pout at him underneath your blankets, even though the heater is in perfect working condition, and sunghoon feels himself falling harder for you everyday
- you are just so DAMN!!! CUTE!!! he can only handle so much until he says fuck it and puts a ring on ur finger
- omg married life with sunghoon or wtv…. NOT blushing
- “no. i’m going to get sick if I kiss you too.”
- “I AM SO SICK OF U!” /j
- ur stupid play on words makes him laugh and he gives in w/ a small peck :>
- even though ur hating him for not being cute and cuddly he just can’t get sick
- he has a competition coming up! sunghoon can’t be under the weather when he’s already under ur spell >:
- “take your medicine goddamnit” but it’s lovingly scolding you as he pushes the weirdly cherry flavored liquid down and follows up with a cup of warm water
- always has tissues on hand
- you’re in the car? tissues. you’re in the kitchen? no babe don’t use the paper towels to blow your nose it’s too rough on your skin
- if you want to cuddle he will say no
- I MEAN EVERY OTHER TIME HE JUST SITS THERE AND LETS U DO WHATEVER U WANT
- “guess this is my life now”
- “i can’t believe you won’t cuddle with me :(“
- “i cant believe you got sick despite hugging me and still having three blankets.” NO CHILL
- sunghoon simultaneously makes fun of you but will take care of you
- if he’s not home expect a sticky note or a voicemail
- “ahh, sorry for ringing your phone so early, i hope you’re getting your sleep <33 just wanted to call and make sure you drink the water in the bottle next to you, i warmed it this morning before i left for practice, and there’s some food in the fridge that jay brought over yesterday. hope you feel better soon i love you”
- alexa play fighting bleeding losing…no matter what i do by txt
- yeah he’s so sweet he’d stop the teasing bc he knows you hate being sick and doesn’t want to make it worse for you
- sometimes you wake up and you literally can’t breathe??
- breathing through nose era when!! /j
- you’d try to get your work done, hoon alr called sick days off for u but you have nothing to do at home so you get your laptop
- “Hi honey,” Sunghoon greets from the doorway, quickly kicking off his shoes and entering your bedroom. “I brought you some tea, Heeseung said it would help you since his mom gave it to him. Do you want some right now?” You nod, coughing with the quick and unexpected movement of your head.
- Sunghoon comes back with a steaming cup of warm golden tea, and blows on the top before letting you take a sip. “Be careful, it’s hot.” And you dismiss his words before you’re hissing at your burned tongue.
- u don’t catch a break huh
- you finish the cup of tea by the end of the night and sunghoon comes to give u a little forehead kith before telling you to sleep
- tmr u wake up and you can BREATHE again
- which gods did this why do you finally feel like a functioning human being
- ANYWAYS THOUGH!! Sunghoon’s competition is in two hours you don’t have time to waste hello?
- Outfit with hoodie, giant puffer jacket, and a turtleneck, and the thickest pants known to mankind
- driving to the rink where he’s competing and watching him with a giant lovesick grin without him knowing you’re there
- you give him a hug when he’s done
- happy at first and loves to see you, but wants to make sure you’re okay
- You both go home and he’s like “half of that outfit is mine.”
- yeah. he’s not wrong. anyways.
- celebratory dinner! he kisses you many many times thanking you for coming out to see him
- happy to finally cuddle again, holding you close now they you’ve recovered
- he got sick the next day.
f for sunghoon. thank you.
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moonstruckme · 4 months ago
Note
I am clean from sh for about 6 months now (yay me) and lately, idk why, I’ve just kinda been struggling with accepting my scars and the fact that I’ll have them probably forever and your writing is really comforting and actually helps, so I wanted to ask if u could maybe write something with Spencer helping reader feel ok with having them on reader‘s thighs?
totally understand that that’s a touchy topic and if u don’t wanna write it, I also completely get it, thanks anyway for even reading this xxx
Ahh yay you!!! Congrats baby, and thank you for requesting <3
cw: past self harm, some nudity that's really not sexual but they joke about it a bit
Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
You’re sweltering. D.C. doesn’t usually get very warm, but for the last week you’ve been on a streak of record-breaking temperatures that’s made your clothes stick to your skin and has caused even your perpetually chilled boyfriend to refrain from putting on his cardigan until he gets inside his work each morning. Just walking between your car and various air conditioned buildings is enough to make you consider moving to the Arctic. 
“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping inelegantly down on the bed to peel your jeans off. “Can we turn the A/C down to sixty, please?” 
“Let’s start with seventy,” Spencer negotiates. You hear his footsteps stop halfway down the hall as he adjusts the monitor. “I think we still have some lemonade left, if you want some.”
“Ugh, yes.” You tear your jeans off your ankles with enough force to nearly send them flying across the room and sigh blissfully as the A/C kicks on. 
You change out of your sweaty shirt too, going for your pajamas despite it being hours from darkness falling. You have no plans to go out into that hellscape again until tomorrow. You hesitate over a pair of pajama shorts before slipping on loose pants instead, not quite as cool but still light enough to allow some air flow. 
“I love you,” you tell Spencer when he passes you your lemonade as you come into the living room, sitting beside him on the couch. Ice clinks inside your glass, which is already forming little beads of condensation. You have the urge to rub it on your face. “I mean, unconditionally, but especially right now.” 
“I’ll take it,” he jokes back, tilting his head back so his face is in the path of the A/C vent. When he looks up, he finds you pinching up the fabric of your pants around your knees, trying to create a pathway for the air to move up your legs. “Why are you wearing those?”
You know what he’s asking you, and you intentionally misunderstand. “I felt like it was pajama time. No way am I going outside again today.” 
“Right, but aren’t you warm?” Spencer tilts his head. He looks like a particularly cunning puppy, brown eyes soft and inquisitive.
“A little,” you admit. 
“Then why not wear something shorter?” 
“That’s awfully forward of you.” You do your best to give him a smile. It doesn’t stick around long in the face of your boyfriend’s serious expression, increasingly worried. “Maybe I don’t feel like parading my legs around for you.” 
You can see the cogs turning in Spencer’s brain, and the usually fascinating process is suddenly almost painful to watch. You know he’s thinking of what you refusing to wear shorts used to mean, how nobody ever thought anything of it because, again, D.C. doesn’t tend to get very warm. How evasive you were about it then, too. An uncomfortable weight settles in your stomach. 
“Is there a reason you don’t want them out?” he asks, and his voice is gentle but his gaze is unflinching. 
You try to hold it as you shake your head. “I’m still clean.” The words seem to take more air than they should. Your guilt and embarrassment are enough to choke on. “I promise.” 
Spencer nods. “I believe you.” 
His eyes don’t so much as twitch down to your covered thighs. Relief like a cool breeze passes through you. It’s no small thing, his trust in you. Not after you’d gone so far out of your way to hide the evidence of your hurt from him before. 
“But it’s still related to that, isn’t it?” He lifts his glass, taking a sip before wiping the corner of his mouth. You almost smile, picturing your boyfriend in an interrogation room asking questions with this same gentle tone and wide open, curious expression. You don’t think Spencer could ever be harsh. 
“Yeah,” you say. What felt like something private and humiliating a minute before you suddenly want to share with him. Spencer tends to have that effect on you; he makes divulging your most gut-twisting secrets feel natural and easy. “My scars just haven’t gone away. I don’t really want to see them.” 
Spencer’s mouth pinches. “You know they won’t ever fully go away, right?” 
“Yeah.” You sigh, but it doesn’t feel like letting anything out. “I know.” 
“They will probably fade, though.” His fingers circle your ankle loosely, calluses skimming softly over your achilles tendon. “Is it that you don’t want to see them, or you don’t want me to?” 
You rub your lips together. Shrug. “Both, I guess.” 
He tilts his head. Like your answer is expected, but nonetheless perplexing. “I don’t care if I see them,” he says. His hand coasts up your leg, over the fabric of your pants, until he grasps it by your knee. “Can I?” 
You nod. You know he’d let it go if you said no, but it’s not worth begrudging him. “Sure.” 
Spencer brings both hands to the fabric at your hips, and you lift your bum up off the couch as he pulls downwards. Your legs are happy to breathe, the cool air coming out of the vent even nicer than you’d thought it would be. Spencer keeps going until your pajama pants are balled up underneath your feet. 
“You really were hot,” he says. It’s neither teasing nor gloating, a simple statement of fact. His fingers come to rest at your ankle again, and it’s the only kind of warmth you’ll allow. “Is it actually worth it?” 
You look down at your thighs. Your skin feels better than it had covered up, but it’s also a physical reminder of things you’d rather forget. “I don’t know,” you reply. 
“I understand why you don’t like them,” Spencer says. When you look up, you expect him to be as stuck on your scars as you are, but he’s looking at your face. His stare is calm and unmoving, like they don’t command his attention the way they do yours. “But I think they may be with you for a while. It might help to start trying to get used to them.” 
You blow out a breath. “I want to.” 
“I know,” he says. Easily, the way he’d said I believe you. And you think that he probably does know. Spencer has things from his past he can’t fully leave behind, too. 
His forefinger moves slowly up and down the back of your ankle, an absentminded gesture for him and a comfort for you. Slowly, his eyes dip down to your legs. You fight the urge to squirm and hide. 
“You know,” he muses, “there’s actually one thing I sort of like about seeing them.” 
Your top lip starts to curl automatically, your brows pulling together. “What?” 
“Just, that they’re old.” Spencer seems not to have noticed your reaction. His gaze is contemplative. “I mean, it’s not that I’m looking for them all the time or anything, but it’s nice to see them and know there aren’t going to be any new ones. These ones will fade, and then that will be it.” 
Something new clogs your throat. It’s just as heavy as before, but far kinder. 
Spencer looks up at you. He looks sheepish, the corner of his mouth uptilted self-consciously. “Sorry, it’s a weird line of thinking. I don’t want you to think I’m always checking on them.”
“No,” you swallow, “I get it. That’s nice, Spence.” 
He shrugs. “It’s the truth.” 
You could almost laugh. He makes things so simple. “I’ll change into shorts.” 
“You don’t have to,” he says. “If you’re already cooling off.” 
“Oh, yeah?” You keep your voice light, grinning at him as you shuffle over to straddle his lap. His fingers brush over a couple of the lines on your thigh as he brings them around your back, and the sensation doesn’t make you feel as shuddery as usual. You hug him with your arms around his neck. “You’re cool with me just staying like this then? No pants?” 
“Not if you don’t want to wear them,” he says agreeably. 
You laugh and hug him harder. “Thanks,” you tell him sincerely. 
Spencer only makes a soft dismissive sound as he hugs you back. 
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hirschkuh-im-traum · 1 month ago
Text
Night visitor
the plot is: something weird happens on Halloween night, and you know you're not alone in the dark bedroom anymore. But when you think that everything was just a bad dream, the man, whose name you know not only through hearsay, pays you a visit.
words ≈ 7.k
warnings: demon!alastor x human!reader, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, voice kink or kinda, rough sex, mirror sex, multiple orgasm, tentakles, bondage, biting, a lil blood, a little angsty in the end but in a fluffy way idk
*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆
In a flea market you were told it was broken, but nevertheless you bought this old cathedral radio. You didn't ask why a woman was selling broken devices but she didn't ask you either why you bought ones. You hoped to make a bluetooth speaker from it, it would look just nice on your bedside table.
At home you wiped the radio with alcohol to remove the layer of oil and dust that formed for several decades on the wooden surface. When you’d done the smooth dark wooden corpus shone in the dull light of autumn sun, pouring from the window, as you twirled it in your hands. With a brush you dusted the speakers then, next you polished the curves forming the symmetrical pattern, and after all you wiped the radio again with a soft cloth to move away the remains of substance you used for cleaning.
Now the radio was like a new, with the exception of some thin scratches here and there. But you even liked them. They remembered that this thing had been used before. Someone kept it in their home, someone tuned the waves, someone ran a fingertip along the carved patterns, someone put their ear closer, listening to the music when in the dead of night they couldn't sleep but didn’t want to wake up anyone in the house. Being kept at someone's house the thing had become its soul. That's why you loved to shop in flea markets. This radio looked like it actually had a soul, a timeless one.
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
A loud noise pulled you out from your dream. Something was rustling. Somewhere from the right, from your back. But you didn't worry, taking it as a part from half a dream, until you heard a man's voice. That second you jumped up in your bed, turning around, hiding half of your body behind a blanket. You lived alone, who could it be?
A radio dial was shining with soft amber light across the room. The smooth and deep voice was speaking from the speakers, but you couldn't understand a word, for his voice was swallowing with static, but even so you could say it was a pleasurable tone, if only the cold fear hadn't paralysed you. How could it be possible? The appliance was broken long ago, not only the woman in the market told you that, but you also checked it by yourself in the daylight. It was broken. Completely. Just a beautiful shell with nothing useful inside.
And still it worked.
For several seconds or minutes, you couldn't say for sure, you were looking in the direction of the radio, listening to whatever the host was saying. Gradually fear was replaced with curiosity and you left your bed. The chill embraced your bare shoulders, the cold parquet kissed your feet as you went closer to the mysterious radio. Maybe it was a dream?
Your fingers found a round regulator and you turned to the right, making the sound louder.
“...better lock your doors and windows, dear listeners. The number of murders has increased this year and we don't want to add to that list, do we?”
‘Murders? What murders? What is he talking about?’
“The Bayou Butcher has a distinctive pattern: although the bodies were mutilated in various ways, the brutality and... sophistication of the Butcher are apparent to the naked eye.”
Your eyes widened. First the broken radio came back to life in the dead of night, and then the radio host was speaking about a serial killer who died more than eighty years ago?! What was going on?
“So do go and check your locks, and do not go out this or any other night. Keep your safe, dear.”
You switched off the radio. You had enough. That was ridiculous, and you went back to your bed.
But you couldn't fall asleep. You were thinking about the radio broadcast that sounded like it was from the past. You knew about the Bayou Butcher. Of course you knew. Not only because you were New Orleans born and bred, and not only because you were a fan of true crime podcasts, and not only because the forest you lived next to was rumoured to be the forest, but also because this very murderer killed one of your relatives. It was a long time ago, but never was forgotten.
Your great grandmother, when she was alive, often told you this story, how one day she and her little sisters received news of the death of their brother, the only one who maintained the family but also the one who tormented it, how he was found on the bank of a swamp, all maimed and almost dragged off to the water by an alligator. She confessed to you how they were glad of the death of their tyrant and how incredibly quickly they were able to get back on their feet, something their brother had convinced them they would never be able to do without the help of a man.
It appeared that your family was connected with the Bayou Butcher himself in the most direct way. And as you were lying in bed, thinking how your ancestry found their salvation in the killing of their relative, you remembered another detail of the killer. His personality was found out only after his death. And it shocked the whole state for the murderer appeared to be the famous radio host.
“I told you to go and check the locks, my dear.”
Immediately you jumped from your bed and by the low laughter of the radio host you rushed for the enter door. Just one thought was swirling in your mind: It was him.
You ran down a long corridor, a single dark tunnel that led from the street straight into your bedroom. You pushed the handle and the door didn't open, but you turned the lock again. From your bedroom you could hear the old jazz playing. The piano and trumpet accompanied a male voice but you couldn't understand a word, just felt it wasn't something good. An old creepy song written for celebration of Halloween seemed to you a requiem. You looked outside through the window, and hardly had you discerned the tree trunks through a night haze when two red lights flashed among them. You gasped and stepped back as you realised it was a pair of eyes peering right at you. And you ran back to your bedroom, not paying attention to a still playing radio, and jumped into your bed, like a child seeking shelter under a blanket. You didn't take your wide open eyes from the little light of the radio dial on the other side of the room.
“My, my, what a frightening song that was! And what a haunting melody, must be stuck in my head for days.” The man was speaking in a cheerful tone, you could actually hear his smile. He spoke to the audience, not just to you personally, as he had done a few minutes earlier. You couldn't understand why and how he did it. It seemed like one minute you were listening to an ordinary midnight broadcast and the next minute the radio host was speaking especially for you. You heard it in his tone.
“Past midnight,” He pronounced almost solemnly, “Finally we've crossed the day boundary and stepped onto the macabre path of All Saints’ Eve.” Shivers ran down your spine, as the sound of the voice from the past, from the times when you weren't even born, flowed into your ears. He was speaking about Halloween, about how traditions of Christianity were forgotten and now people preferred to throw a spooky party instead of going to church, and he was speaking how much he enjoyed it. Nothing scary was in his speech anymore, just something especially charming was about his voice, low, velvety, and dark. No wonder he was so popular during his time. Listening to his broadcast for just a few minutes — the biggest part of which you were frightened to death — you could already call yourself his fan. And no wonder that even when his actual nature was revealed, some people still loved him, being unable to break the spell he once put on them.
An immoral thought creeped into your mind, what would you let the owner of such a voice do to you? The question wasn't immoral in its nature, but the answer, you were afraid to think of, was.
“And now I say goodbye to all of you. Something startling awaits you tonight.” The broadcast was over, but a new song didn't take its place, only a crackling of the atmospherics remained.
You sat in your bed, waiting for something without knowing what exactly. Maybe his voice would speak again — a weird message from the past. Or maybe he would speak to you.
The buzzing became louder, more and more louder, it became unpleasantly to hear, and when you were ready to leave your bed and switched the radio off again, the loud knock on the front door was heard by you. It's harsh, demanding, supernatural sound made you scream in fright. And then you heard the voice,
“So what do you think, my dear? In my opinion, it's a wonderful show, you can't find a better one!” Suddenly the bed no longer seemed like a safe shelter. The shadows around seemed to emerge from the darkness, became tangible and surrounded you. The night-lamp on your bedside table, that served as the only source of light for all this time, burnt out, immersing you in deeper darkness, where only a pale moon slightly illuminated your room. Your body began to tremble as the shadows approached you, and you felt the cold radiating from them.
You heard somebody trying to open the front door, but the lock didn't give in. And then the voice came from the speakers,
“Ah, you're a good girl, and did as you were told… Through the times, haha!”
So you did heard the broadcast from the 30’s. But the owner of the same voice was standing behind your door. You felt like you were losing your mind. You wished you could lose it already, then you wouldn't try to comprehend what was happening, then you wouldn't feel fear anymore.
You gazed through the room and the corridor at the entrance door. Since the knock was heard you were sure you saw a silhouette behind the cloudy glass. Its head hid above the glass, which was at eye level, so you saw only its thin figure. Obviously, it didn't belong to a human. The figure bent down, and two red sparkles shone through the opaque glass, making you gasp.
“Unfortunately, the locks can't stop me.” He spoke with a fake regret. And then you heard the click of the unlocked door, and slowly the door was opened.
In the doorframe was standing he. An eldritch silhouette with long limbs, tall and slender. He had to bend down to step inside your dwelling through the door frame, which was too small for his large body. And as he was stepping inside, you saw antlers atop his head and hair standing straight on his crown as the other couple of horns. Maybe they were animal ears? The door shut behind him without him even touching it, and he began to approach your room.
“You may be wondering why and how I am here but, my dear, I assure you that it doesn't matter.” The clatter of his shoes echoed through the darkness of the corridor as he smoothly headed closer. His every step stressed the words, coming from the radio, deepening their meaning. But all you could see was bright red eyes looking hungrily in your direction. “Let's just say, that sheer boredom brought me here, into your house, to find entertainment for myself.”
He stopped before the threshold of your bedroom, tilting his head to the side. The moonlight illuminated his large figure. The man, the devil, was dressed in all red and his suit was slightly torn on the hem. Between the lapels of his frock coat the two black lines drew an inverted cross on his crimson shirt. His skin was pale grey, hair red as the eyes, and he was smiling. A wide, lip closed smile across his whole face was uncanny and eerie. And as the next words fell from his lips, you understood his voice had the same static echo as from the device.
“Will you entertain me, my dear?” The sharp edges of his yellow fangs flashed dangerously in the moonlight, making you gulp the air.
You didn't realise that in an attempt to discern the sinister loom approaching you, you had moved to the edge of your bed and now were standing on your fours, clutching your fingers around the metal footboard. And now you couldn't make a move, being hypnotised by the creature in front of you. He looked like the most dangerous thing on earth and hell, but something in him lured you. Riveting your attention to him. The red eyes travelled all over your figure, and he smirked as if enjoying your submissive position.
Suddenly one word escaped your mouth, you didn't even realise it, until his expression changed into a pleasant surprise.
“Alastor.”
“Ohh, how nice it is when your name is remembered almost centuries later!” He made a step forward, now he was actually in your room, “A fan of my broadcast? Or misdeeds?”
Finally your fingers let go of the footbroad, that was now warm after your touch, and you sat with your back straight and the hands on your knees, looking up at the man in front of your bed. Still you looked like you couldn't wait to take everything he could give to you, and take it obediently.
“I-I don't understand..?”
“Now now, dear. Didn't I tell you the questions are unnecessary?” But seeing your wide eyes where the horror and disbelief had mixed, he decided to reveal some mysteries for you. Perhaps, it would help you to cast aside doubts that would interfere with what he was about to suggest. All your thoughts had to be focused on him, and not on causes and consequences.
“I returned to my hometown on this night because it is the only night of the year when the dead are allowed to visit the living. I came here because, whether it was a coincidence or not, you settled next to my house. And in fact on the territory that once belonged to me.” He looked up as if thinking over something. A mischievous smile appeared on his face, “Mayhap it still belongs to me, after all, my story was terrifying, who in the world would want to live where the most brutal serial killer operated?” And his gaze fell on you. His smile turned sharper and you felt something similar to shame. The red touched your cheeks and you lowered your gaze. “Huh, I just came home to mark what's mine.”
The fear and surprise in your eyes, where Alastor could still see the traces of tears after his performance, were delightful. He liked how you didn't move, didn't try to escape, and he didn't know whether it was your willingness to accept fate, whatever it may be, or your anticipation of what would happen next. Either way he loved it. Your eyes watched his every move, as he leaned to you, as he hid a strand of your hair behind your ear, as he climbed into your bed on his fours. You watched it all, holding your breath, while your heart was beating frantically in your chest.
“Let's begin, my darling.”
Alastor slowly lay you on your back and propped himself on his hands above you. His eyes didn't leave your face when his right hand reached to his bowtie to untie it and let the black ribbons hang loosely around his neck. He slowly then undid several top buttons, as if he was preparing for an activity that would make him breathe harder. You swallowed in foretaste.
“Now, my dear,” He leaned closer, now propping himself above you on his elbow, his other hand travelled down to your thighs. You smelt sulphur and something burnt, but then the scent of moss and conifer comforted your nose. It was a strange aroma, but you inhaled little more when he leaned down to whisper in your ear,
“Lie still and you won't be hurt.” And when you felt the light touch of his fingertips on your skin, you screamed, remembering the bright red claws reflecting the moonlight when he was undoing his shirt. His hands were of deep black colour, but the fingers were red just as his long sharp claws, curving as little moons on his fingertips.
“Shh, dear! It's not my intention to hurt you. Moreover, I am here for the opposite reason. So be a good girl as you are and lie still.”
His breath burnt the skin on the shell of your ear, his husky voice with a slightly chiding tone ignited something within you. Alastor put his whole palm on your thigh, and you understood how huge he was. You were sure if he squeezed your leg more his fingers would curl around you. His touch was warm, commending, and you didn't resist when he pressed your leg to the mattress.
“Good.” The way he prolonged the word made the wetness between your legs more felt. How insane you were if he could make you feel like this with just one word, one touch, one threat.
His fingers slowly travelled up, so ever slightly grazing your skin, causing a soft breath out from you, as he reached higher and higher. And finally he touched your labia, with a smile on his face he found out that you were already soaked. His two fingers easily slid to and fro, keeping your most sensitive part between his fore- and middle fingers. The little bud of nerves stuck out between his claws, his smooth movements were delicious but not enough to please the organ properly. He slowly burnt up your desire, making you slightly moan at the teasing caress.
“Darling,” He purred, “I didn't expect you would be so welcoming. Good for me, huh?”
“Ahh… Alastor, please…”
“Already begging? Good!” He cast a look at your entrance, which was pinkish and glistening after his stimulation, and almost held his breath at your beauty. He admired how you clenched around nothing, wanting and needing him, and watched how you were dripping with the juice that had to be so sweet from a charming thing like you. You blushed in shame when Alastor licked his lips with his gaze fixed to your entrance.
“Remember my advice?” He suddenly looked up at you.
“I must lie still,” You murmured.
“A very good girl!” He praised you with a soft smile and closed eyes, as if absolutely satisfied with your obedience. And he started with one finger, curling it as he slowly dipped inside, carefully, not to hurt you as he had promised. He felt how warm you were there, how tight, so deliciously tight, and he added another finger.
You couldn't deny that you were scared when you felt his fingers inside, and you even felt the claws, but somehow they didn't scratch you. He slowly slid deeper past the rings of your trembling muscles, keeping his crimson eyes fixed on your face, and you felt the intimacy you hadn't felt with anyone before. You felt him gradually reaching with his long fingers the parts you had hardly ever touched, and you threw your head back, moaning out his name in the growing pleasure.
“Yes, that's my girl,” There was something special in the way you pronounced his name, he had noticed it the first time he heard your voice. He wanted to hear it again and again. Your soft voice made his name sound like a dangerous charm able to captivate the speaker, and your moans even sweetened it more. Just so delicious.
As his digits went to their base in your core, his palm pressed on your clit, and you were quivering in needy anticipation under him, Alastor started to move back and forward, slightly increasing the pace.
“Ah, ah, ah, huh-uh!” He pushed in tenderly and yet with force, causing louder and louder moans from you; the squelch sounds accompanied your heavy breathing and whines, but you still felt like it wasn't enough. No, it was good, better than with anyone or yourself, but you wanted to feel him. Your head swirled as if you were in a carousel when you imagined what he could do not just with his fingers, but with that bloody red tongue he had stuck from his slightly open mouth, or with that growing knoll on his groin.
His palm began to slap on your pussy as he increased the pace, the slaps fell directly on your clit, bringing you even more pleasure blended with pain. Fucking you with his fingers, he leaned to your face. He wanted to feel your breath fanning his face as you were whining in bliss, curling on his palm. Alastor didn't realise he had stuck out his tongue in a type of hunger unknown to him before. Saliva dripped down on your chest. This sigh of a ravenous predator above you awoke a strange desire in you. You lifted your head, catching his tongue between your lips in a sucking kiss. The fingers inside you twitched, pushing on the very spot, but you didn't let go of his muscle. You went as far as you could, until his lips covered yours in a messy kiss, and you sent your moan right into his mouth. You whimpered because of overstimulation, while Alastor's tongue was intertwining with yours in the most dirty kiss you'd ever received. Your teeth clashed against Alastor’s, you felt that you were hurt by his fangs and blood ran down your chin, staining Alastor's lips. Alastor licked everything clean and kissed again before you had time to take a breath, and again his tongue embraced yours and explored your oral, while he fucked you harder and harder with his fingers. It seemed that with your mindless kiss you lit up something voracious in him.
Suddenly you felt a cold emptiness in your core — Alastor had retracted his fingers. He let go of your lips, sweet by nature and bitter with your blood, and stared down at you, waiting for you to rest a little.
His half lidded eyes and lips stained red only made the blood in your veins flow faster.
He smiled widely at you, and your heart skipped a beat, but you yelped when his hands appeared under your knees and he harshly parted your legs, bending them and pressing to the mattress. He lowered his head with an open mouth and lolled out his tongue. The bright red lights of his eyes never left your face. When his wet muscle touched your core you couldn't suppress a sensual moan. His tongue adroitly worked with your heat, rewarding your every moan and plea with a longer lick, with a deeper suck at your clit, with a sweeter kiss on your folds, turning you into a quivering mess beneath his mouth and palms. You held on the antlers on his crown, which were growing bigger right under your fingers, and moved your hips to press yourself closer to him, to give more of yourself to him. You stuttered his name, feeling that Alastor was bringing you closer to your release; his own growls against your skin, sounds of kisses and love bites became louder, muffling that was left from the pleas of your conscience. You'd been ignoring its voice since Alastor stepped into your room, and now completely forgot about it.
“Agh, I'm- mmm!” You arched your back, and Alastor pressed your body closer to his mouth to not miss a single droplet of your sweetness that wrapped his whole mouth as you came.
When your tremor ended and Alastor swallowed everything, he gently laid you on the sheets. Alastor's hands reached to your waist and you held your breath when you felt them on your stomach. You looked at the demon, he licked his lips clean and whispered,
“You look so beautiful in this nightgown, darling,” He purred, caressing the silk of your black clothes. You could feel his warmth through the thin fabric, “But I'm sure… You'd look even better without it.”
Barely had you time to stop him, when he ripped the silk on your body with one harsh move, you gasped at the impassioned act. Your body now was in full display for his longing look. His eyes travelled slowly from your face to neck, bosom, belly and pussy, then with the same thrilling retard he looked back to your lips and then eyes.
“Yes… That's much better.” He purred in low, the static in his voice made the words sound velvety, you wished they’d envelop you whole.
Alastor took off his coat and undid two more buttons on his shirt. You saw the scars on his chest and the fur of the same hue as his skin. And then he undid the belt.
But before you could view his shaft enough, you felt how something squeezed your limbs and then you were forcefully changed in the position. You found yourself, standing on your fours in your bed and looking at the other wall of your room. There wasn't Alastor in front of you.
“You were making such beautiful noises for me, darling. I wonder what other sounds you can make.” You felt his hands on your waist and how he moved your hips back. The touch thrilled you, filled you with both such familiar fear and excitement. Something cool slowly wrapped your legs, moved higher to your thighs, sending shivers of cold and intrigue all over your body. The strange cold appendage ringed around your waist and when you tried to look back to understand what it was, it squeezed you tighter and you were forced to keep your first pose.
“Ah ah ah, darling!” Alastor's cheerful voice chid you, before suddenly got lower, much lower than you'd heard him that night. Something too dangerous hid in his voice when he said, “Don't move.”
Alastor had a perfect view of you, propping yourself on your palms and knees. The moonlight blanketed your soft skin as a veil, bringing something supernatural to your mortal frame. The shadow of him and you were beautiful black spots on the white sheets.
Alastor brought his one hand to your hips, his other hand was stroking his already hard organ. You heard his soft inhalings, heard the movements of his hand, and you impatiently rubbed your thighs when he put his hand on your ass.
You opened your mouth, when Alastor pressed his tip to your slit and moved slowly up and down, moistening with his precum your already wet folds. He bit his lip when he just hardly pressed his cock to your cunt, you were so desperately needed him, and when he entered, he couldn’t help moaning slightly. Your soft walls immediately clenched around him, your pussy greedily swallowed his cock in as he was slipping deeply. He moved slowly, slightly retracting back but never leaving you and then thrusting forward again. He gave you time to get used to his size, after all, you were so small next to him.
The room filled with your quiet whines and the sound 'mmm' blended with buzzing static, that caressed your hearing every time Alastor pushed in you. The gentleness he was acting with almost drove you insane. You breathed deeply and loudly, with his every new shove he went deeper, but not once you felt his stomach pressing to you. And you were waiting until he would fill you with every inch of him. The wait filled you with fear of his size but also a lustful impatience. And when you were about to let his name fall from your lips to show him how much you wanted and needed, he stopped.
Alastor watched the connection between you and him, he saw how your elbows bent and your leaned forward, taking a little more of him in you. You then carefully began to move your hips back and forward again and again. He watched your pussy swallowing him but being unable to take everything without the help.
And when Alastor made you sure that now you were leading, he smiled wider and harshly thrusted forward, burying his whole length in you. You threw your head back, seeing stars, and Alastor began to thrust in a new, fast rhythm. The sounds of skin against skin now echoed in the room, the perfect accompaniment to your lascivious moans.
“That's right… Make it louder for me...” He growled and you obeyed, letting the salacious screams fall from your lips. Oh, you were sure you could be heard from the outside. And then you felt him so deep, as if he reached where nobody ever destined to be. It felt as if he destroyed the concept of emptiness itself, filling you up completely with him. It felt like you became one in sharing pleasure. The touch to the sweetest spot inside your body immediately brought you to the edge, your muscles tensed, the forceful thrusts in and out made you see stars again.
“Oh God! Ah-h, ah!”
Alastor felt his own release approaching. Everything in you was perfect: your skin, your voice, the sounds your body was making at his contact, the way you were embracing him inside you. Everything, but the choice of your words during a fuck.
“Don't be ridiculous, darling!” And he pushed you on his shaft, causing a pitiful whimper from you, “It's not god who's with you right now.” He leaned down and pressed his body to your back, his palms covered yours. You felt his hot breath behind the shell of your ear, as he whispered darkly, “You knew my name even before I stepped inside. Now, use it.”
Alastor made the tentacles around your waist wrap tighter and pressed you sharply to his body, preventing you from any move. If Alastor now crossed his eyes in bliss, your pleasure changed into pain. His strong hands firmly held your hips, the claws digged into your skin and spilt blood down your legs. The cold things now wrapped around your arms, and you finally saw that they were as if shadowed and yet so strong. You were completely immobilised.
“Ah, fuh-ck!” You cried out. The trace of your pleasure hadn't passed yet, and you desperated the release.
“Hmm, that's not what I asked you.” And he shoved in, his hips slapped against your ass, he growled, feeling as your walls squeezed him. “Ohh… Well?”
“A-alstor… Alastor,” You slightly lifted your head, trying to look back at the man, the demon, behind you. He was smiling down at you, lust radiated from his eyes. The hunger he was looking at you with, though he already was having you, turned your mind fuzzy. You felt his heartbeat against your back, felt his breath in your hair, his cock twitching in you. “Alastor…” You moaned once again.
“Good.” You closed your eyes when you felt a kiss in the nape of your neck. “Now let us see your face.”
You harshly opened your eyes at the sudden creaking sound, and your blood froze when you saw how the mirror from the corner of your room moved to the bed as if somebody was pushing it from behind. But there was only darkness. With a loud rasp against the floor the mirror moved closer until it stopped in front of you, and you saw yourself and Alastor above you. His wide grin with razor-like fangs was too close to your ear, the red eyes shone brightly from under half closed lids, the antlers on his head grew widely and you hardly imagined how he could still hold his head up and not collapse under the weight of that bone crown. Then your gaze lowered to your hands, covered with Alastor's huge palms and embraced with strange long tentacles. Your eyes traced up the reflection and you understand that these long shadows grew right from the demon's back.
Alastor's grin turned sharper when he noticed surprise on your face and followed the direction of your look. It seemed his dark appendages attracted your attention. The tendrils let go of your stomach and creeped to your breasts that erotically dangled. A soft moan escaped your lips when the cold tips titillated your hard nipples. They lightly caressed the sensitive skin. In the reflection you saw how your lips parted, the tongue seductively lolled out.
“Don't we look beautiful together?” Alastor murmured against your skin. He still slowly thrusted in you, his member twitched so deliciously in you.
“Mmh.”
“Use your words, dear.” His eyes didn't leave your face in the mirror, his burning look only ignited your desire.
“Y-yes… We do.”
“And what about this? Do you like it?” You saw how your expression changed, a moan escaped your lips, for the shadows slipped down to your slit and nestled themselves between the folds. Smoothly they swirled around your clit, patted and pushed on it. Alastor intertwined his fingers with yours, shoving himself in you. He idly pushed past the tight ring of your muscles and didn't stop until his shaft was fully inside; the fur that was around his cock tickled your higher hole.
“It seemed to me that you looked frightened when you saw my appendages, so I decided to change your mind on the matter.”
He increased the pace, intensified the thrusts. Skin slapped against skin, while the tendrils adroitly worked with your tender nub. Everything was too much for you, your heart was beating in a madly rhythm as if it was about to break through your chest, you were dizzy with such hard breathing, and soon you cummed on his cock still thrusting you mercilessly in and out.
“Yes…” Alastor growled and licked the sweat from your temples, “That's quite the view. Look at us, dear!” And you looked up, barely seeing with your teary eyes anything but the red eyes flashing over you.
“Ah, A-alastohh…” You cried out. You were so overstimulated, but he still was fucking you, and your clit was still being licked and patting by the shadows. Alastor felt he was losing control — the heavenly pleasure you were giving him aroused the devilish side of him. He felt you trembling under him, heard your pitiful mewls, but he couldn't help abusing your tight cunt more and more. You were just so perfect for him.
When his vision turned black for his eyes had turned into dials, the weight of his antlers pressed too much, and he felt how he was growing in size, Alastor closed his eyes. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, made himself to slow down the animalostic pace he was fucking you with. He concentrated on the way you whispered his name. The silk sweet sound of your voice. Alastor peppered your crown, nape and shoulders with kisses, he slightly sucked on your skin then and there, sometimes bit through your skin, but mostly just covered your trembling form with hot kisses. You in your turn felt another wave of orgasm coming closer. His sudden gentleness made you weak, you bent down under him, and the changed angle let him dig a little deeper. You rolled your eyes back, swooned with another orgasm he gave you.
Alastor opened his now red eyes when he felt you changing your pose and screamed out his name. He made one, two, three smooth movements in and out before he came in you, burying his cock deeply, pressing your ass firmly to his pelvis. He painted your walls white with a low growl, while you were moaning out his name. After that both of you collapsed on the mattress, fagged out but drunk with pleasure none of you had ever felt before.
Alastor's arms held you close, though there was no power in the embrace, just a wordless sentence that he was next to you and you belonged to him. His breath accompanied with the rustle of static tickled the skin on your temple. His member was still inside you, you felt how it became weak but he didn't retract and you were glad for this. You didn't want him to leave. You wanted Alastor to stay with you. For this night, and the next day. For several days and nights. Forever. But the night seemed to be passing too quickly, you would curse it for this, but unfortunately this very night brought you the best lover in your life. And you only thanked it.
Alastor moved closer, his cock slipped out of you and you felt how his fluid slowly dripped out of your cunt, painting the sheets under your bodies. He turned you on your side so your nose was buried in his chest. He still was in his shirt that was sweaty now, nevertheless you buried your nose in his furred chest, inhaling the scent of burnt wood and conifers. You put your hands on his back, your legs on his hips and pressed yourself to him — not an inch had to separate you.
Alastor chuckled and left a peck on your crown. His clawed hands, which hours ago you were sure could tear you apart, now gently caressed your back. He could admire the little work he did there, the love bites were visible and they would remain for several days more. On your thighs he left the same marks. Stepping in the world of the living, he didn't expect he would find something fascinating, but there he was with a precious captivating little thing in his arms. You.
A clawed red finger lifted your chin up. You looked into the red eyes that dimly illuminated his and your faces. The thin but soft lips crushed on yours in a tender, deep kiss. His hands caressed your hip, kept your head in place for him to shower your face with kisses.
“You know, my dear,” He said, parting his lips from yours, “I didn't really have a chance to introduce myself, there was no need, you knew me. But! You never told me your name.”
The thrill poured down your back. The realisation you gave yourself to the man you knew as a serial killer, a brutal one, had to bring the colour of shame on your cheeks. But it didn't. Maybe something was wrong with you, you didn't care. His smile was too luring, the touches were too irresistible, the voice was too tempting. You were happy to be with him, happy that not only this night bounded you together, but even the past of your family. Maybe it was fate, you thought proudly.
You said to him your name and he repeated it, as if savouring each consonant and vowel and the way they supplemented each other. For sure your name had never seemed to you so beautiful as in the moment it fell from Alastor's lips.
“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl, hm?”
You chuckled at the compliment. When you looked up at the man again the room seemed lighter. It wasn’t the sunrise, was it? But the worried look Alastor cast at the window and the greyish light filling the room told you otherwise.
“I'm very sorry to leave, dearest.” He murmured and sat up. You followed him. The singing of the earliest morning birds reached your hearing. Alastor snapped his fingers, the clothes in perfect condition appeared on him, as well as your silk nightgown. All the traces of passionate night had dissolved, only the love bites and scratches of his claws were still on you. You even felt his seed still filling you, though the stains on the sheets had disappeared.
“Don't you say goodbye,” You frowned. The tears of regret filled your eyes.
Alastor turned to you with a surprised smile,
“I'm not saying goodbye to you,” Alastor said your name and looked all over you. His smile he never dropped for this night turned sad. The crimson eyes looked softly in yours. He cupped your cheek, his thumb wiped away the tear falling from the corner of your eye, “We'll meet again, darling.”
The kiss he gave you was heavenly and bittersweet. His lips brushed against yours gingerly, as if it was the first time and he wasn't sure you would turn away. You bit on his lower lip, you were angry with him leaving you and with the morning taking him away from you. Your tongue slipped into his mouth to start a slow last dance with him. You collected the quiet moans he gave you, buried your hands in his so soft hair. But Alastor also wasn't ready to let go. He tried to remember all your curves with his hands that were running all over your body now. He swallowed the noises escaping your mouth.
He parted his lips from yours, palms cupped your face gently. And then his devilish smirk returned to him. The eyes gleamed with danger under the first sunbeams falling on his face, colouring his eyes with brighter and deeper hue of red. His toothy smile and passionate gaze gave bravery to you, and you smiled back as he said,
“See you in hell, love.”
When he dissolved through the shadows, the cathedral radio on your dresser switched on by itself. A jazz yet melancholic melody filled the room. The rhythm was the same as of your heart, the same rhythm Alastor started in you, every time giving you a kiss.
*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆
author's note: can you believe that i'm writing again???? somehow to post again feels even scarier than when i posted my first work haha
329 notes · View notes
planetpedri · 1 month ago
Note
I loved the new Jobe fic you wrote it’s very nice! I was wondering if I could request a Jude one….if not you could write it for Jobe I don’t mind. One where you’re in a secret relationship and you end up being in the same place as him and his family. You both just staring at each other. Maybe you work somewhere or something else. But you can’t let anyone know you both know each other or that you’re together. So it’s just to sad and heartbreaking. Later you guys have a call or meet and it’s just breaking you both down but it’s still not a good idea to go public because of the public and their reactions. If you can and want to id love to read something similar. Thanks a lot
Ripples — Jude Bellingham.
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Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Fem!Reader
Summary: Having a famous boyfriend wasn’t easy, what wasn’t making it any easier, was how adored he was by fans. Any spark of dating rumors sent them spiraling, and Jude never wanted you to be subjected to that. You’d hit your breaking point when you had to seat him and his family at a table, and all the while, pretend as if you didn’t know him.
Word count: 1k+
Disclaimer/s: Angst with resolve + hopeful ending.
A/N: I hope I did this justice.. idk
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Tightening the waist apron around you, you make your way to the front. It was shift change, and you were now taking over for your coworker. She handed you the notepad and pen, wishing you a quick, ‘good luck’ before leaving.
You let out a loud sigh, making your way to the front as there was certainly customers waiting. It was noon after all.
You’re too busy making sure everything was in your apron pockets to notice the family of four at the front. “Hello, I’m—“ You look up, breath hitching in your throat. You stutter out your name, swallowing thickly to calm your nerves, “and I will be your waitress today. Please, follow me.”
Your boyfriend and his parents, along with his younger brother Jobe, did just that. Jude seemed to be the only one who noticed your reaction, his heart thumped in his chest the second he saw your face. You’d stiffened instantly, tension clear in the way you held yourself.
Taking them to a booth, your eyes flicker to Jude’s. You watch him sit down, sending you a quick smile. Nothing significant, he’d do it even if you were just another worker.
You set out the menu’s, forcing a smile onto your face. “Can I start you off with drinks?” You ask, taking out the note pad and pen.
Denise started off with the ordering, and when it came to Jude.. well! You couldn’t even look at him. He was watching you though, trying to hide the upset in his voice as he spoke. Of course you noticed, you’d heard that tone multiple times.
“I’ll be back in a moment.” You nod, hastily making your way to the back.
The first thing you do, is hand the notepad to a co worker. “I’m not feeling well, could you take over my table?” She had nodded, concerned, but didn’t press further.
The rest of your shift went smoothly. You had unsuccessfully avoided the Bellingham’s table completely, somehow always in sight of your boyfriend. He stole glances your way, and the few times you caught them, you immediately looked away. That same thing went back and forth for the whole hour his family had dined there.
The second your shift ended, the grey cloud that had followed you around the whole day, somewhat lifted. You’d finally started to chill out when you got back in your car and drove home.
Jude had texted you multiple times, but you’d ignored them until you got into your apartment. Collapsing on your bed, you shoot him a quick text, asking him to come over.
Within seconds he replied, ‘already on my way’ and that was that. You had to impatiently wait to see your boyfriend in the safety of your apartment. No cameras to see you, no fans, no family.
The few soft knocks on the front door tells you Jude had arrived. A swarm of nerves hit you like bullets as you made your way to the entrance. You unlock it, pulling it open in the process. You’re immediately met with a half-smiling Jude. Half as in it didn’t seem to reach his eyes, which you knew meant you were in for a talk.
“Hey.” You say, opening the door wider to let him in before shutting it behind him.
Jude makes his way toward your couch, plopping down before replying. “We should talk. About today.” He adds the last part as if it wasn’t obvious.
“Yeah.” You nod, sitting down a few feet away from him. “Why would you willingly bring your family to that restaurant? You knew I worked there!” Your voice was raising slightly out of frustration, which you immediately tried to stop. It was no use to get angry about this.
Jude straightens, his eyebrows pulling together. “It wasn’t my choice? My parents wanted to go, so we went. And I tried to give you a heads up, but you weren’t answering.”
“Yeah, well, I was working.” You chuckle humorlessly. “It’s fine, though. I just hate having to hide like this. Do you know how upsetting that was for me? To see you with your family and for them to not even know who I am?”
Jude nods in understanding, his lips pulling into a frown. “I know, I know, and I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t like this, but the fans—“
“I’m a grown woman, I can handle it! I’d rather be harassed online than have to duck and hide every time we’re in the same vicinity.” Desperation clings onto your voice, your eyes softening as they dart up to meet your boyfriends.
He plays with the couch cushion mindlessly and chews on his bottom lip. “What if.. we compromise?”
This peaked your interest, your eyebrows lifting slightly. “How?”
“You meet my family and a few of my friends, but we keep it private still? And if it ends up getting out… it gets out.” It was a half assed attempt at fixing things. He couldn’t lose you, but he also couldn’t bear to think about how the public would react, which would inevitably lead to you getting hurt. And if he had to choose, Jude would rather lose you than you getting hurt in that way. “Plus, not being able to talk about you to my family is killing me.”
Half way was better than no way, so you sigh. “Fine. I can deal with that.” Scooting closer to your boyfriend, he meets you half way, using his long arms to pull you into his side. The last part of what he said suddenly clicked, a smile making its way onto your face, but you don’t say anything about it.
You two lay like that silently for a few moments, Jude’s hand coming up to play with the ends of your hair. “Y’know… my mum gave me that look at the restaurant when you walked away. I think she may have a hint of whats going on.”
Chuckling into your boyfriend’s chest, you smile. “And here I thought we were always so subtle.”
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Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Leave a comment if you’d like to be tagged in any future posts whether it’s specific or all <3
DTS , @halfwayhearted + @spidybaby !
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novvabee · 10 days ago
Note
could you write about the mauraders when they go to the shrieking shack for the full moon and there’s another werewolf? Idk something like that
ooooo, this gave me a really fun idea, hope you enjoy 💗
The Deer, The Dog, And The Two Wolves
summary: remus meets another wolf
word count: 2.3k
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“I mean, did you see her? Talk about fit!” Sirius laughed, walking through the portrait into their common room. He was talking about the new girl, the girl who had started halfway through the semester.
Poor girl was paraded in front of the whole school for her sorting. She was obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable to be the center of the whole school’s attention.
“Too bad she was sorted into Slytherin,” Sirius said as he threw himself across a sofa in the middle of the common room, “I would have liked to get to know her.” This made Lily and Mary scoff from the opposite couch in front of the fireplace.
“Why’s she starting in the middle of the semester?” James asked.
“Maybe she just moved here.” Lily supplied.
“Lucky her,” James said, “she just missed midterm exams.” Everyone chuckled at that.
While everyone was conversing and laughing, Remus had dread looming over him. His muscles began to ache and he could feel the effects of the approaching full moon. The moon would be tomorrow night, but Remus had been feeling it all week. After a while of chatting, all he wanted to do was crawl into bed. 
“I am quite tired,” Remus said, standing and motioning for the boys to follow. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”
“Yeah! Just meet us in hogsmeade.” Mary says.
Remus nods, the other boys say their goodnights and they all make their way up to their room. As soon as the door was shut behind them, Remus was falling into bed.
“What is the plan for tomorrow?” James asked, they usually had no trouble sneaking out and waiting in the shrieking shack for Remus, but this time, the girls insisted the boys come with them to hogsmeade for the day. Only Lily knew about Remus, so sneaking away was going to be harder than normal.
“I was thinking I could cut away from the group with Remus and we could head to the shack while you help Lily distract the others.” Sirius said, having planned that out fairly quickly. “That sound alright?” he asked Remus.
Remus was too tired, too weary to answer vocally so he just nodded. The boys looked at him with pity, they knew how he was feeling, so they just opted to let him sleep.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
The day spent in Hogsmeade was lovely, despite the pain and tenseness that Remus felt, he still enjoyed himself.
They made their way from shop to shop, buying candies from Honeydukes and gadgets from Zonkos. The girls begged to stop by Gladrags and the boys reluctantly agreed.
“Fine,” James said, rolling his eyes, “but only because I need a new tie.”
The group piled into the shop, the girls immediately rushing towards the new dresses and coats, Remus and Sirius turned to browse the rings and necklaces. 
Remus felt… odd. He felt the hairs on his neck stand and a chill run down his spine, immediately set on edge. He had never felt this before, a new experience for him. He put himself on high alert, scanning the shop, but seeing or sensing nothing out of the ordinary, just that unfamiliar tingle.
“Dear Merlin,” Sirius muttered from beside him. Remus followed his gaze across the shop to see Regulus. It seemed like the brothers noticed each other at the same time, because Regulus turned to his group of friends, and they swiftly exited.
“Still in a spat?” Remus asked Sirius.
Sirius huffed and replied “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Remus left it alone, seeing as the day was going very well, he didn’t want to ruin it in any way. 
James got his tie and the girls all bought different clothes and were ready to continue on. It was getting later in the day, the sun would set soon, so Remus wanted to finish the trip.
“Butterbeer, anyone?” he asked and the whole group perked up and started down the street towards The Three Broomsticks.
Remus opened the door for the group, allowing everyone in, before stepping in himself. Once inside, that grating feeling was back. He looked around again, but was met with the same outcome, there was nothing awry. Confused, he just figured the moon was messing with his senses.
The group found a table towards the back of the pub and they all squeezed in. Remus found himself sandwiched between Marlene and James. The whole bunch was lively as ever, laughing and joking, talking about everything and nothing at all.
The witch who ran the pub asked the table for their orders and James ordered butterbeers for the whole table. So typical of James, to order and pay for everyone, spend his fortune on his friends and a good time. 
Mary gasped from across the table, making everyone turn their attention to her. “Don't look now,” she said, “but that new girl is sitting with the Slytherins.” 
The whole table snapped their necks toward where Mary was looking.
“I said don’t look!” she squealed.
She was right, the new girl was sitting next to Dorcas and across from Regulus, looking like she was in a deep conversation with them. But, almost like she felt their eyes on her, she looked over to them. The whole group tried to turn and make it look like they weren’t just staring at her(it was so obvious), but she caught Remus’s eye before he could look away.
It was like she looked directly into his soul, and there was that feeling again. Remus could have sworn she sat up straighter, taken by surprise for some reason. She narrowed her eyes at him, looked him up and down, then returned to her conversation.
Odd… 
Their butterbeers arrived and Remus put the interaction aside, deciding to just enjoy the rest of the time he had with his friends. Once the group finished, Sirius casually yawned and turned to Remus. “Fancy a smoke?” he asked. Remus nodded and exited the pub with Sirius.
They began their journey to the shrieking shack, Remus feeling the nip in the air, but also that feeling. He took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, handed one to Sirius, then lit them both. Perhaps a smoke would ease the odd sensation. Walking in comfortable silence, taking drags of their cigarettes, the boys eventually ended up at the shack.
Remus dropped the butt of his cigarette and snuffed it out with his shoe, Sirius taking one last drag, then doing the same.
“Now,” Sirius started, “James will meet up with us but it’s business as usual right?”
Remus nodded. “Yeah, just try to stay in the forest like normal.”
“Gotcha,” Sirius replied. “Gotta lock you in now, Moons.”
Remus opened the door to the shack and stepped inside. He pulled the door closed and heard Sirius mutter the spell to magically seal him in until he transformed, then one of them would open the door and they would spend the whole night racing and playing in the woods in their animal forms.
Remus didn’t enjoy a lot of his lycanthropy, but being able to run in an animalistic way with his best mates, that was one thing he did enjoy.
Remus made his way upstairs to the old, beaten up bedroom, and layed on the bed. He began waiting for the transformation. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Something was off, Sirius could tell. He and James, who had broken away from the group finally, were sitting at the edge of the forest.
They heard Remus transforming, which was never easy, but this time it seemed that he was having a particularly rough time. James winced from beside Sirius and shook his head. Once they were certain he was fully changed, James magically unlocked the door.
They both transformed into their animagus form, but Remus didn’t come out. Sirius and James looked at each other and Sirius went inside to check on Remus, coax him out of the shack.
Sirius padded upstairs, expecting to see the wolf destroying something or clawing at the furniture, but he was met with a completely different scene entirely. The wolf was pacing around the room in a circle, sniffing the air and whining. When it saw the black dog that had entered, it perked up, but still looked around, as if looking for someone else.
The dog raced downstairs, goading the wolf to chase it. The wolf gave in easily and followed the dog down the stairs and out of the house where they were met with the large stag. The wolf tackled the deer, rolling and play-fighting until the wolf’s ears perked up. It snapped it’s head to the forest and bolted.
The dog and the deer had no chance to wrangle it before it slipped through the tree line and into the dark forest beyond. The dog and the deer looked at each other and then dashed after the wolf.
Sirius didn't understand what had gotten into the wolf, but raced as fast as he could to catch up.
That is when the howl came from deep in the forest. Everything stopped, the whole forest seeming to be silenced. Then the answering howl sounded.
The deer and the dog followed the sound to an opening in the forest, a small field with a large oak in the center. They expected to find Moony there, chasing something, but they were not expecting to see two wolves circling each other.
They hung back at the tree line, watching but ready to protect Remus if anything were to happen.
The other wolf was smaller, a female, but just as dangerous, still a werewolf.
The two wolves continued circling each other, tense. The smaller wolf noticed the dog and the stag at the forest’s edge, and growled, hackles raising. Moony stepped between her and his friends, protecting them, and growled deep back at her. The other wolf turned her attention to him now, focusing all her anger at him.
Moony wasn’t backing down, determined to protect the dog and the stag behind him. He clawed at her, catching her right under the eye. She wasted no time in returning the favor, and swiped right back at him, getting him good.
Moony, shocked, stepped back and sat down, like a dog asking for a treat. The other wolf blinked, then mirrored his actions. Moony pounced and ran off, the other wolf following, chasing.
They were playing. 
The dog and the deer looked at each other, then back to the two wolves, then joined in.
It was slightly harder, keeping track of two wolves rather than just the one, but at least they could rough-house with each other and not be too afraid to hurt the other, like Remus often was with Sirius or James.
The two wolves raced each other and swam in the lake, the whole group having fun, until Sirius noticed the morning light. Dawn would break soon and Remus would transform back, they needed to get him back to the shack. Moony, however, was being more difficult than normal. 
The moment Sirius and James tried to corral him and chase him back to the shack, Moony refused. He kept wandering over to the other wolf, trying to continue to play. So James and Sirius decided that both the wolves had to be wrangled into the shack, if that was the only way to get Remus back in.
That task was incredibly difficult, Moony bouncing all over the place and the other wolf threatening to snap at the boys if they got too close. They eventually managed to lock both the wolves in the shack with minimal damage.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Remus woke on the floor of the bedroom feeling more tired than he had ever been after a full moon. He felt like he could sleep for ages. His aching body needed all the rest it could get.
Small moments from the night came back to him and suddenly…
He snapped his head toward the bed to see a sleeping figure curled up in the old and torn blankets. That feeling tingled the back of his neck again. 
The figure sat straight up, feeling the same feeling. Remus knew that face, the new girl. She made direct eye contact with him, then quickly scanned the room, unsure of where she was.
He could see she was scared, so he calmly said “It’s ok, you’re ok.”
She looked at him unsure. “W-where are we?” she asked, voice a little raw.
“This is called the shrieking shack, it's where I come… to transform.” Remus answered, still trying to calm her and get her to trust him.
“You’re the wolf I was with last night?” she asked, more like putting the pieces together.
Remus nodded. “My name’s Remus.” He smiled.
“Y/N” she answered.
“Nice to meet you Y/N.” He said, noticing how she seemed to start relaxing.
“And… that dog and the deer?” she asked.
Remus chuckled, not knowing exactly how to answer that. “They’re harmless.”
She nodded and they sat in silence for a minute before she spoke again. “I didn’t know there were others… like me.” she said.
Remus didn’t know how to talk about this with anyone, he had never met another werewolf. All he could seem to do was nod.
“H-how long have you been… you know…” she asked timidly.
Remus smiled sadly. “‘I was bitten when I was really young, about three.” He answered.
Her eyes widened and she gasped. “Three!?” she looked in disbelief. “I am so sorry, you’ve had to deal with this for a long time…”she trailed off. “I was bitten a couple years ago. That's why I transferred schools, the other one kicked me out, thought that I was a danger to the other students.”
“I am so sorry,” this time it was Remus’s turn to feel bad.
She smiled sadly. “It’s ok, besides, now I know someone else like me.”
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lovelykil · 1 year ago
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headcanons─
: ➛ killua & gon x reader older ver.
hc; night owl reader
cw; little suggestive themes mentioned
note; I have a huge headache (´ヘ`;) also, this was one of the choices everyone wanted so 😛
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˗ˏˋ gon
“you're still awake?” o(*´ー` ?)
I'm pretty sure he passes out dead cold right when he hits the sheets. After a long day of training to build his aura and practice his new ability he's tired asf
Bisky gives yall no break
He changes into his muscle shirt and some sweats then jumps right into bed, you following along.
He tells you goodnight and places a little peck on your cheek before clinging onto your arm and snoozing
You're obviously exhausted too from today but somehow can't find yourself to be sleeping, but to ponder.
You think about how you even began to be with the ravenette and how your life changed for the best along side with him.
You wonder if killua actually really liked you or not σ( ̄∇ ̄;)
He always seemed distant or not wanting to deal with you at all, but he always had your back in fights so.. maybe he did have a soft spot for you.
minutes past by.. You're still stuck in your head, looking up at the ceiling.
an hour..
two..
three..
four?!
damn what possibly could you be thinking about
You played a game on your phone soon enough from after all this thinking , the bright screen waking up the teen next to you.
You were actually surprised that woke him up he was literally facing away from you after shifting in his spot countless times.
He sits up with a disturbed expression, rubbing his weary chocolate eyes.
"y/n, can you turn off your phone?"
"I- yeah sorry gon." ( ̄▽ ̄;)
With a click the device shut off and was placed beneath your pillow, you sigh quietly to yourself.
"I wonder what your dad looks like." You whispered.
"I'm sure like me" gon tiredly smiled at you. You looked back at him then at the ceiling, you let out a soft chuckle.
"obviously, I bet that's where you got your weird hair"
"hey!" (`ε´ )
"my bad" (  ̄▽ ̄)
gon lays back in his spot, his thoughts flooding his mind aswell.
"how long have you been awake?" He lets out, his head turning.
you think before answering.
"awhile."
"awhile!?"
"couldn't sleep"
"bisky isn't gonna go easy on us tomorrow you need to get your rest you know." The boy tugged on your shirt, trying to get you to listen. Your eyes move around the dark room then you grumble.
"okayy" you scoot towards him to feel his warmth, he lays his hand on your shoulder to kiss your cheek and smile.
"we can finally sleep together now!"
"ahhg, yes night gon."
"goodnighttt" (^^)
will make you go to sleep with kisses and hugs
he cares alot about your health and sleeping is the way to extra energy !!
so I don't think he stays up much
If he does it's possibly because of a sleepover with killua
idk I see him needing that beauty rest 🗣‼️
˗ˏˋ killua
“go to sleep WOMEN” o(`Д´#)
does NOT need that beauty rest 🗣‼️
he can stay awake for awhile 2 to 3 days I think he said?
he just built different 🥶
so match him up with someone who also can't sleep ..
boom
chaos.
jk I'm sure he's pretty chill about it
like you also can't sleep? cool wanna have a pillow fight and watch scary movies??
you two are probably always doing something in the middle of the night.
nothing weird YOU PERV.
I mean, unless..😗
NO.
like sneaking into the kitchen to steal snacks together, quietly so not to wake up kurapika 😓
kil always eats most of them though to piss you off, then you end up yelling at him as he looks at you with his cat smirk
slowly shoving the chips into his mouth.
ooohh that boy gets on your nerves (`へ´*)
he won't admit it but he enjoys these nights with you, he's impressed how long you can stay up till you eventually pass the fuck out
idk cause sometimes at night too he gets a little.. silly.
suddenly his confidence is WAY high in the dark room as you two talk to each other after snacking.
he plays with the ends of your shirt as you sit on his lap and rant about something
"oh? uh-huh. mhm
he's not listening, he wants to rub his hands against your torso from under your shirt as you gasp from the cold sensation of his digits.
maybe even let him take off your shirt if he's lucky.
though, you knew what he was doing there was a reason why he wanted you to sit on his lap 😒
you grin to yourself, shaking your head.
you stopped talking and grabbed his pervy hands.
"I know what you're doing." You whispered.
"damn it, thought I was careful this timee" He whined.
you escape from his lap and lay next to him with a giggle.
"ohh, you're so cute cmere." You tease the boy, listening to him boil in heat. His pale face pink as flamingos as you lean in to kiss his cheek.
suddenly that confidence died out.
"you're so embarrassing.." (≧ヘ≦ )
he muttered irritatedly but he very much enjoyed that peck hoping you would kiss him on the lips now.
in which you did, the kiss was long and gentle. Your hand held his cheek as his landed on yours your lips formed a smile when he did so causing him to break away from the tender kiss and grow more flustered
"WHYD YOU DO THAT-"
"Smile?"
"YEAH.. DON'T DO THAT."
"Because the way your hand went on mine was cute."
". . ."
"You KNOW WHAT go to BED" ////
honestly it's fun being with him, wasting your nights with the albino
and having meaningful (sometimes) conversations at night, the kind where you and him smile together, with nothing but love in each of your eyes.
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rainrot4me · 1 month ago
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Rain’s Kinktober 2024 - 12
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Jeff the Killer x TransMasc (FtM) Reader - Hair Pulling/Pegging
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Pegging, forced submission, hair pulling, mentions of injury, bottom Jeff, domination, cunnilingus, anal, rimming
Tag: #rainykinktober2024
Words: 3.8k
A/N: I didn't get to flourish out the reader being trans as much as I would have liked to, but I also felt like it not being an incredibly big writing point makes it more natural? IDK give me your thoughts and ways I can improve it please! I've never written a trans reader, but I wanted to try my hand at it!
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Was it smart to get into a relationship where the two of you had insanely gigantic egos? No.
Did it make it much more satisfying to come out on top every time? Hell yeah.
“One more word, I dare you.” You spat. 
From anyone else’s perspective, your relationship with Jeff would seem toxic and demeaning, constantly bickering or knocking each other around to prove a point. Sure, it was far from healthy, but you could expect only so much from a certified lunatic.
“Or what? I’ll get time out?” The killer snickered, leaning back on your bed as he spread his legs wide, a disgusting grin on his face. 
“You’d get off to that, wouldn’t you? Bust a nut just from getting told to sit in the corner.” You scoffed, hauling your hoodie over your head and throwing the nasty fabric to the side, turning towards your bathroom to get a good look at yourself. Jeff was still smiling, chuckling to himself as he stood to follow you in. 
You both had just returned from a long night, bodies sore and heads pounding from overexertion, but that didn’t stop either one from throwing snotty remarks. 
Flipping the bright bathroom lights on, you glared at your reflection, gnarly bruises and scratches running up your chest and shoulders, the wounds still bright with irritation. Jeff sauntered in behind you, bright eyes roaming your bare back that you were sure looked much worse than your front. “Jesus, [Y/N], how did she even do all that?” He cringed, settling his rough hand on your shoulder to examine the litter of scratches all down your spine. You huffed, shoving his hand off and reaching for the faucet, running warm water as you grabbed a rag. 
It was embarrassing to admit that some lady, a younger police officer who tried to intervene in your mission, had banged you up bad enough while you tried to take her out. Maybe you would’ve let Jeff try to be sweet and clean you off, but the killer was the one who alerted the damn woman with his “go to sleep” bullshit. You got her off of you and delivered some nasty blows, but she got some good hits too, cutting up your skin with her nails. Jeff laughed the whole way home, throwing a shit-eating grin every time you glared at him.
Running the rag across your bare shoulders, you groaned, the small sting tolerable but definitely uncomfortable as you cleaned yourself up. Jack was out hunting, so you couldn’t get his professional opinion, but you deemed them not bad enough to get all the sterile stuff out. Rummaging the cupboard behind the mirror, you shook a few ibuprofen into your hand and called it a night. 
“Aw, won’t even let me bandage you up? C’mon now, baby…” Jeff sneered, trying his best to put on a sweet face as he ran his fingers down your back, tracing the skin right above the waistline of your jeans. You huffed, anger still boiling in the back of your mind despite the chills that littered your skin, your eyes trained on him in the mirror behind you. “Lay off, Jeffrey.” You tried to nudge back to your bedroom, your messy sheets and pillows practically calling your name, but Jeff wrapped his hands around your waist, tugging your back against him.
If there was one thing about the killer you could always count on, it was his unwavering ability to become insufferably horny after any mission. You chalked it up to the aftermath of the adrenaline rush, but he never failed to get all touchy whenever you both finally made it back to the mansion.
“Why so angry, babe? How ‘bout you put all that energy to good use, huh?” He smiled, pressing his nose behind your ear and kissing lightly, trying to switch up his annoying demeanor to coax you. He was always good at that, playing the nasty one until he decided he wanted to be sweet, using all the right moves and words to melt you down. Tonight, however, you felt just a little more ill than usual, body still wired with adrenaline and anger- it would take more than kisses up your neck to get you now.
Shifting your shoulder, you nudged him off, the gruff sigh from the killer annoyed that you didn’t immediately give in. How could you not? He was irresistible?! He followed you into the bedroom, tugging at the belt loop of your jeans and pouting when you refused to show him attention, or groaning when you ignored his hands pawing at your waist. All the usual hints that he wanted you weren’t working, and Jeff was becoming more frustrated by the second. “[Y/N]... C’mon…” 
You secretly smirked to yourself when he sat at the edge of your bed, rummaging through your dresser for clean clothes that weren’t matted with speckles of blood and dirt. He leaned back on his elbows, groaning about how stubborn you were being while you unbuttoned your jeans, shoving them past your hips. His grumbles quickly faltered, the only noise the shifting and settling of the mansion as he watched you kick your jeans off, snagging your fingers into the waistline of your boxers next. 
You heard Jeff sit up, your bed creaking under the weight when you pushed the fabric over your ass, bending just a little to tease and send a staggered breath from the killer. You smiled to yourself when you kicked your boxers off, bare back on display to him as you reached for your clean clothes, refusing to turn and even let Jeff think you were giving him what he wanted. He pushed off the mattress, feet creaking on the floorboards when you felt cold hands run across your waist again, his hips pressing against your ass.
“Baby…”
“Jeff, no.” It sounded a little cold, but you didn’t intend to let him think just because he wanted you, he was going to get you- he had to work for it.
He whines, a pout forming on his lips when he presses kisses against that same spot behind your ear. “C’monnn, you’re not gonna stay mad all night. Lemme make it up to you.” You raise a brow, refusing to show any interest as Jeff ruts his clothed bulge against your ass, mouthing kisses onto your shoulder.
Trying to pull your shirt over your head, the killer grumbles at your disinterest, trying to push his hands down to your sweet center and maybe coax you along, but being left unsatisfied when you elbow him off and step away. “Go jerk off in your own room, man. You’re not getting it for that fuckjob of a mission you pulled.”
Even if he did decide to leave, you would’ve rubbed one out yourself. You couldn’t deny how excited you got from seeing the oh-so-big-and-bad-killer start to whine and paw at you, desperation creeping in when his cock twitched uncomfortably in his jeans. He ground his teeth, stepping after you when you tried to climb into the bed, wearing nothing but a clean shirt as your ass swayed vulgarly. 
“Babe- c’mon… Sorry? Alright? I’m sorry for bein’ an ass- Just… please?” It was so satisfying to see him cling onto your hips, tugging you up off the bed and holding you close to his chest, his obvious boner pressing against the side of your thigh. You huffed, secretly smiling to yourself.
You would let him have it, but he wasn’t going to like it.
“Alright…” He perked up, kissing you across your shoulders again, before- “Grab the strap, then.”
His kisses faltered, letting off your skin to look you in the eyes, trying to gauge if you were being serious. You didn’t use it often, only daring one time to experiment, but ultimately deciding you both didn’t prefer it. It seemed appropriate now, your body flipping that anger into excitement when Jeff began to shake his head.
“Baby… You can’t be serious-”
“Go on, Jeff. You don’t get to choose right now.” You dropped your voice, a stern tone that made the killer stiffen up, shifting his weight back. He didn’t try to beckon, just let go of your hips and sheepishly knelt down, reaching under your bed. With heavy eyes, he grabbed the small tote you hid, popping the lid open to reveal the gaggle of toys you both had used on one another, the killer’s hands fishing for the dull pink strapon at the bottom. You leaned back on the bed when he held it out, shoving the box back under your bed and groaning when you took it from him.
You drug it out, slow and methodical movements when you dipped each leg into the holster, snugging the straps around your hips and tightening the clips. Jeff watched anxiously, sitting back on his haunches while his fingers gripped into his jeans, staring at the dildo you were adjusting at your crotch. The smooth base of the toy pressed against your cunt, settling against your clit in a way that made you huff a groan.
Tugging your shirt off, Jeff eyed your body, eyes roaming your chest and arms as you towered over him. You smiled down, sitting back against your bed and spreading your legs, the killer’s face a little more pale than before as you beckoned him closer. He hesitated at first, testing if you were really serious, but eventually shuffled forward onto his knees when you glared at him. 
The toy wasn’t incredibly big, just a little smaller than Jeff’s cock, but it was definitely more than he was used to taking. Jeff had no remorse in forcing himself into you inch by terrible inch, stuffing you to his heart’s content despite your raspy pleas to go slow. It felt appropriate to not give him the same luxury of being gentle.
“Hurry up. You wanna cum or not?” Jeff furrowed his brows, shifting his weight up to press his head just above the tip, eyeing you just once more as you smiled sickly. Soft groans leave your mouth as he flattens his tongue and licks at the head, saliva glistening across the silicone when he tries to wrap his lips around the tip. “Watch your teeth, yeah?” 
Maybe he would’ve made some sly remark about how it was just a toy and made fun of you, but you wrapped your hands into his hair, gripping the messy strands tight as you began to shove his head down. His neck was tense, mouth trying to accommodate the sudden intrusion as he gagged and choked around the length, trying to press back up. You held him, continuing to force him down until you felt his nose press against your hip, muffled coughing as his fingers dug into your thighs. Through the scars on his cheeks, you could see the toy going deeper, nestling itself into his throat as Jeff unhinged his jaw to accommodate. 
“Don’t fight me, Jeffrey.” You grovel, Jeff sitting up a little more as the toy presses hard against his tongue, you forcing the length to brush against the back of his throat. Tears well in his eyes, unable to breathe properly as his skin heats, flushed from the sudden overwhelm. He could try to resist, but you demanded his compliance, and honestly, that turned him on something terrible. “Always runnin’ your mouth, messing things up- this is what you get.”
A stark tug on his hair and he’s whining, bobbing up and down the length with heavy eyes, the lack of oxygen bringing him down from his domination a lot quicker than you expected. The sounds are so messy, spit building on his lips and glistening across the silicone every time his lips meet the head, tongue flattening across the divot in the tip and taking it like it was real. You moan at the sight, clit jerking every time the strap shifts and rubs just right.
Jeff’s head feels light, letting his jaw hang loose despite the war in his head telling him to get up and shove you off. He knows he could easily stop this, fight you off, and take what he wanted, but something in his likes how your eyes bore down at him as you own him, a claim being staked. He could fight, could deny ever enjoying it, but he couldn’t lie when your hips pressed off the mattress and began to snap into his throat, fucking the toy in haphazardly.
You enjoyed this a little too much too- the way your idiotically loud, egotistical, manic boyfriend loved to act like he was big and bad, but found himself falling apart, jaw slack, eyes rolling back while you used his throat. You fisted his hair hard, whining and gasping through slobbered gags every time you tugged the strands, forcing him to comply. Tears fall down his pale cheeks, sweat dripping down his forehead as you finally pop his head off, eyes hazy and heart thumping in his chest while you look down at him, satisfied with the state he’s found himself in.
“Hah- Hnn- Baby…” He pants, trying to catch his breath while you run your fist up and down the length, coating his saliva across the silicone and admiring the way it shines. You glance at him, face flushed and eyes heavy, hair still pulled back into your grip as his jaw hangs slack. “You… Wanna feel- hah- you…”
“You’re so fucking noisy. Babbling already and we’ve barely started.” That shuts him up, embarrassment heavy as he pants, trying to catch his breath. You tug him forward, holding his face close as you slap the toy across his cheeks, his spit smacking his skin lewdly, the killer tightening his face with the impact. 
“Up on the bed.” You stood, nudging him to climb up onto the mattress, but finding the killer reluctant. You eyed him, reaching for his jeans and slowly unbuttoning them, watching as his eyes lazily followed your movements. He reached for his shirt, hauling the fabric over his head when you helped him shove his pants off, kicking them to the side. His cock was heavy in his boxers, a wet stain where his tip twitched, huffing a low groan when you palmed at the length. “Up on the bed, now, m’kay?”
It took a moment, but reluctantly Jeff climbed up, shoveling his boxers off and groaning at his wilted cock, the tip a deep red. You pressed onto the bed, Jeff flipping over and whining into the sheets with embarrassment. He couldn’t stand how turned on he was, overwhelmed with the fact that he might’ve been enjoying this. “Quit bein’ a baby and acting like you aren’t enjoying this. I mean, look how hard you are.” It was like a stab in the gut, but Jeff couldn’t stop his cock from twitching at your tone.
He pressed his knees up, palms digging into the sheets as he climbed onto all fours, letting his spine drop the best he could and arching uncomfortably. You admired his effort, shifting behind him as you palmed at his skin, delivering hard grips to his ass. Jeff shuddered, body shaking slightly when he felt you lean down, breath tingling his skin as his cock hung between his legs.
“Get over yourself and just enjoy it, alright?” You huffed, pulling the plush off his ass apart and pressing in slow, a long stripe of your warm tongue across his hole. The killer choked, a gruff moan when you slowly lapped at him, trying your best to break that tension he held. Jeff tried not to fight, tried to listen to you and enjoy it, but found himself stiffer than ever, fingers digging into the sheets. You could feel it, his body so rigid as you kneaded his ass, moaning into the sweet taste.
You reached between his legs, wrapping your fist around his swelled cock and slowly stroking, his hips jutting with the stimulation. Jeff moaned, jaw hanging loose when you felt his hips jerk with every stroke, your grasp tight around his length while your tongue dipped shallowly into his fluttering hole. Your warm saliva coats him, opening up slowly for each tug you give his cock, the duality easing his body, arms shaky and weak as the killer tries to keep himself up.
Your tongue dips fully into the tight ring of muscle, lulling with a groan as how he eases up, pushing his ass back against you as precum dribbles onto your bedsheets, his loud gasps and groans teetering on the edge. “Baby… Yeah- Mhnn- Yeah-” Your own arousal throbs in your gut at his willingness, riding back across your tongue as he bites his lower lip, eyes closed in hard concentration. 
“My tongue too much, hm? Can’t hold on much longer?” You kiss along his ass, hand still slowly stroking his cock just enough to have his hips stutter for more. The killer nods, quiet moans as his thighs tremble and clench, arms daring to give out. “Then maybe you need something bigger? Isn’t that right?” Jeff tries to retort, pushing up a little, but you’re already sitting up behind him, grasping his hips hard enough to bruise.
You teasingly draw circles around the rim, Jeff shivering, hole quivering at the cold feeling of mixed saliva slipping between his ass. He moans out, arms finally giving as his chest hits the mattress, face smashed into the sheets.
Arching his back stiffly, he grinds his ass back against the toy prodding at his asshole, muffled gasps when he feels you begin to press in, the head slowly disappearing into his tight hole. Jeff tries to keep his flushed face hidden in the sheets, biting into the fabric to sheath any terrible noises that erupt, but finds himself needing to look back at you.
He shifts, lying the side of his head out as he looks back over his shoulder, your face hard in concentration while you slowly bob your hips back and forth. The stretch is nauseating, shocks of pain and glorious pleasure running up his body every inch you try to sink in deeper, bully past that pesky resistance he’s still holding onto. “Open up f’me, Jeff. You said you wanted to feel me, didn’t you?” You teased, glancing up at him with a slurred smile.
“Ah! Please, baby.”
“Please what? Use your words, Jeff.”
“Please. Wanna cum so bad.”
Sweat dribbled down your brow, fingers grasping his hips with a bruising intensity that had his skin red with irritation. His walls flutter, hole clenching painfully on the toy that is only mere inches from the hilt. Jeff feels so full, so painfully full he thinks he’s going to snap. You take the opportunity, pulling your hips back before pushing back forward, watching as his hole stretches to accommodate, just to suck you all back in again. It’s a mouthwatering sight.
“Fuck! Baby, yeah-” Jeff curses the puny tone to his voice, desperation guiding his hips to fuck back onto the toy, the length brushing that sweet spot nestled deep inside. His cock is leaking something terrible, you barely thrusting but it feels like you're slamming into him, bullying your anger into his submission. You know all the ways to make him tick, all the ways to brush your hands up his back and make chills graze his skin, his gut heavy with arousal.
You don’t have to move anymore, Jeff is practically doing all the work for you. He can complain in his head all he wants, but it’s his ass that’s bouncing back onto your hips with loud, syrupy whines. His cock slabs against his abdomen, the squelch and smacking as he fucks himself raw, his head nearly spinning with haziness. “I wan- I wanna cum, please, babe.” He gasps out, teary eyes blown and looking up at you so desperately, face so messy.
You leaned in, pushing his hips down and resting your weight on top of him, bringing your hips up just to slam right back down into him with a choked moan. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging his head up and back as you forced him to look at you. “Do you think you deserve to? After how you treated me today?”
Jeff hesitated, breathy moans as you rutted your hips down, grinding the toy into him and bumping against his prostate. He finally shook his head, gritting his teeth when you leaned in to press a sloppy kiss on the back of his neck, tugging on his hair. You were just surprised he gave you the answer you wanted, finally breaking past his egotistical cumdrunk self and letting you diminish him. It was satisfying, it was arousing.
You sat back, hauling his hips with you and reaching around his waist, snagging his cock into your fist and jerking as rhythmically with the thrust of your hips as you could. Jeff moaned loud, grappling at the sheets as you bounced his ass back, finally loosening up enough to take the toy to the hilt. 
“You wanna cum, Jeff?” You huffed, knocking the head of the toy against his prostate, each thrust sending shocks of pleasure through his body. Was he drooling or were those tears? He didn’t know, but he could barely choke out his answer.
“Yes.”
“Then cum.”
Maybe it was the glint of fondness in your eyes, or the pierce of your fingernails digging into his hips, but Jeff is immediately snapping back onto your hips, reaching his climax. Poor, exhausted cock throbbing and cumming dry, stripes of hot white onto your bedsheets below. “Ah- Cumming- M’cumming hgnh-”
Head still reeling, the killer can do nothing else but lay there limply, exhausted and fucked out of his mind as you slowly remove yourself from his clenching hole. He’s never felt so vulnerable, so ruined.
As you tenderly roll him over, he’s still panting, heart thudding so hard in his chest that you swear you can hear it. You let the strap fall from your hips, shimmying the toy off and slowly climbing up onto his thighs, straddling his limp hips.
Jeff was never a one-and-done kind of lover, rallying for two or three rounds every chance he got, so why wouldn’t you give him the same luxury? A taste of his own medicine should keep him pliable for weeks, you think.
Settling your hips out, Jeff jerks when you grab his cock, the length still flinching with postorgasmic swells as you slowly press down onto the head, Jeff hauling up. He watches through tear-soaked eyes, that later he will swear never happened, as your bulbous clit throbs with arousal, shifting your weight down to feel him sink inside of your warmth.
“[Y/N]- Wait, wait, woah-” He cries out, gripping his hands onto your hips as you begin to slowly rut yourself down. “Did I say we were done? You wanted to feel me,” He gasps, throwing his head back with a strangled moan. “So lay back and take it, Jeffrey.”
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