#my past sins catch up to me.
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tiodolma · 1 year ago
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I'm sorry for saying back then that the druid camp massacre wasn't merlin's fault. It was his fault that arthur/uther and co. become more certain exactly where to look. Merlin's reckless destruction of one of the gates led the army to where the druids hid.
Merlin couldn't commit to his chosen solution (carelessly handing off clueless Morgana to the druids) and he still tried to get Morgana to clean up his messes for him.
-_-
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hollowflight-propaganda · 11 months ago
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Me: has my sixth sudden crying spell of the week
Also me: "yeah but I'm probably not ACTUALLY depressed"
#gonna be honest boys. I have been feeling like dogshit#started with me having a good ol' existential spiral at 4 am a week ago and now I don't even know what's bothering me#and then there's all of the bad stuff going on making me anxious for myself and everybody on top of everything#all the abhorrent transphobia has been making me feel worried for the future#(as if the passing of time doesn't already horribly scare me but I digress)#idk man. I already feel like I'm unequipped for the future because I've realized I never thought I'd still be alive right now#majority of my childhood was filled with adults preaching at me to think about where I'd be going in the afterlife so I did just that#that plus they were the type to believe that the rapture is soon cause “the signs are all coming true”#so I always thought that either that would happen or I'd die before now#well. I'm still here and I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.#and I'm lonely. really fucking lonely and I'm going mad cause of it#never had actual friends besides the kids I was with at my old private school. now they're all raging conservatives who mock minorities#I was able to get away but moving on isn't as easy as I hoped#it'd be so much easier to betray all my beliefs and act ignorant again so I can have my friends back#but of course I can't do that. I can't throw out who I am and all of the wonderful people I know who would be “sinful” in their eyes#idk man. I think I've finally reached the breakdown I've been feeling coming for the past two years#fuck. sorry for this trauma dump of a post. I've just felt numb for months and now everything's catching up to me#needed to yell about it I guess#vent#phoenix prattles
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frotting-corporations · 11 months ago
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why cant i get 10 hours of sleep in 6 hours of sleep
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fear-is-truth · 3 months ago
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❝ 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋, 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐋𝐕𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒. ❞
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— charlie mayhew x f!reader
summary: you’re a college student who haven’t confessed in ages. tags: mature content・mdni・blasphemy・unprotected p in v・fem!reader・not proofread
♱ a/n◞ english is not my first language
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it’s been far too long since you last stepped into the confessional. guilt weighs heavily on your soul, gnawing at the edges of your conscience like a relentless rat. father charlie mayhew sits in the adjoining room, just beyond the closed door. you feel like a convict marching to the gallows or a witch being led to the stake. the air is thick with the scent of incense and remorse as you push open the wooden door and step inside, taking a deep breath,
“forgive me, father, for i have sinned.”
“how long has it been since your last confession?” you pause, fingers twisting in your lap. seven months? eight?
“…too long.” you finally settle for that answer. he hums softly in response, encouraging you to elaborate further.
“i’ve been… neglecting my prayers,” you blurt out, the words tumbling out like a spew of vomit. “i’ve been lazy with my duties, with my work.” a flashback to your half-finished papers, ignored for days, weeks. the familiar frustration and self-loathing settle in again.
“sloth,” the priest says softly, but not unkindly. you nod, even though he can’t see you. “and… wrath,” you continue. “jealousy, really. i’ve been… envious of others. their success, their accomplishments, while i’ve just been… stagnant.” there’s a faint rustling from the other side of the partition. “envy can eat away at the soul,” he says quickly. “but it’s the admission that brings healing.”
“and lust,” the word slips past your lips like a dirty secret. “mastur- sorry, i mean. self pleasuring. and there were… party hook-ups. frat boys. things i shouldn’t have done, things i knew were wrong.” you can feel father charlie’s attention on you, even though you can’t see him. he pauses, and you hear the soft rustle of cloth and creak of wood again. “lust,” he repeats in a gravelly, conspiratorial tone. “is a sin we are all vulnerable to.”
“even you, father?” the question slips out before you can think better of it. the silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating like a poisonous fog.
there’s a soft sigh, and you hear the faint rustling of fabric again. “oh yes,” he admits, but he doesn’t sound as ashamed as you’ve imagined a priest should be. there almost seems to be an air of self congratulation.
“especially that.”
your fingers curl tighter around the edges of your skirt. a single beat of silence. then—
“sins like these require penance. penance,” he repeats, slowly, savouring the word on his tongue, “is meant to cleanse the soul. to discipline the flesh.” another rustle of cloth—and you wonder what the hell he’s doing behind the wooden barrier.
“are you prepared to accept the form of penance i offer you?” the way he phrases it, like a double entendre you can’t quite place your finger on.
and yet, something possesses you to reply:
“yes, father.”
“good. now step out here.”
your heart pounds as you obey, stepping out of your side of the confessional. when you turn to face him, your breath catches in your throat.
father charlie is not dressed as a priest should be. gone is the cassock, the traditional garb of a man of the cloth. instead, he’s wearing a white translucent smock, the fabric so sheer you can see the hard planes of his chest, every muscle defined. his tan skin gleams in the low light, and your eyes drift downward, catching the black leather chaps and, beneath them, a jockstrap that leaves little to the imagination.
you simply can’t tear your eyes away from him.
the cocky bastard must be fully aware of his effect on you, the way his eyes gleam as he takes another step toward you, the leather of his chaps creaking softly in the quiet room. the smirk on his lips deepens, and he raises a hand, resting it lightly on your shoulder.
“recite the act of contrition.”
your throat tightens, pulse quickening at the contact. he’s standing so close now that the scent of incense and something distinctly masculine fills your senses, clouding your thoughts. taking a shaky breath, you start, voice trembling slightly,
“o my god, i am heartily sorry for having offended you…”
his fingers graze your arm now, trailing lightly down to your wrist, but you don’t stop. you can’t. his presence demands obedience.
“…and i detest all my sins because of your just punishments,” you continue. he hums softly, a sound of approval, thumb rubbing slow circles against the inside of your wrist.
“…but most of all, because they offend you, my god,” you falter for a moment as his hand moves down, skimming the curve of your hip, lingering at your waist, “who are all-good and deserving of all my love. i firmly resolve,” you choke out, forcing yourself to finish the prayer, “with the help of your grace, to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin.”
a pause, thick with ominous tension. you look up at him, unsure of what comes next, warm, honeyed lust dripping through your loins betraying the pious words you’ve just spoken. fingers still at your waist, he leans in.
“beautifully done, beautiful.
the priest whispers, and there’s something unexpected in his voice. emotion. when you look back up at him, there are tears in his eyes, like the words had truly moved him. for a split second, you wonder if he’s going to say something, maybe pull back, remind you both of your places.
but then his hand slides into your hair, fingers tangling gently at the nape of your neck, and before you can catch your breath, he’s guiding you with firm, practiced ease into the tight space of the confessional’s compartment. his grip is strong, sure, as his hands settle on your waist, pulling you flush against him. your back hits the wooden wall with a soft thud, the creak of old wood reverberating through the silence, amplifying the intimacy between you.
he leans in closer, his body pressing into yours, the booth feeling impossibly small now. his lips find yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, soft at first, then deepening with intention. his tongue slips past your parted lips, exploring the inside of your mouth, grazing your teeth before sweeping across your hard palate in a way that makes you shiver.
a moan escapes you when you feel his erection rubs against your thigh.
•••
god, you’re going straight to hell.
you moan in unison as he pushes the tip inside you in one, smooth motion. pleasure riddled with agony shoots up from your aching quim to your entire body, the sheer girth of him straining at your velvety walls; filling you up in a way that nobody else has ever done before.
“mghmm— oh fuck… you feel so good,”
charlie grains into your shoulder as he bottoms out, features twisting in sordid rapture when you clench around him involuntarily. your insides are so sensitive and raw that you can feel every ridge and vein of his cock pulsating against your walls as you struggle to accommodate him. he pauses, giving you a second to recover before rearing back his hips slowly, almost pulling out but then to slam back into you completely. the wooden wall of the confessional box creaks, but all you can focus on is the tip of his cockhead kissing— no, fucking your cervix. stretching your cunt in a way so sinfully good that you’re certain that even though you’ve booked a one-way ticket to the second circle of hell, it’s fucking worth it.
it’s not long before the hot coil finally snaps, and squeezing your eyes shut, you dig your fingernails into his shoulder, leaving crescent indents as your orgasm crashes over you.
waves of white-hot pleasure ripple through your veins, and you throw head back to scream out his name. through your post-orgasm haze, you watch as charlie continues to pound into you. a raw moan rips from his throat, accompanied by a final, deep thrust. burying himself to the hilt, he comes inside of you, thick, hot spurts of come filling your womb as a string of indiscernible curses tumble past his lips.
he doesn’t pull out immediately, his cock twitching with residual spams as he continues to thrust his hips lazily, grinding his seed inside you as deep as it can go.
father charlie pulls back slightly, chest still heaving as he gazes at you with that same smug, satisfied smile. he brushes a thumb over your swollen bottom lip, his touch lingering, almost tender.
“well,” he muses, “i think that’ll do for your penance… for now.” his eyes gleam with something darker, something that promises this isn’t over. “though, if you feel the need to… atone further, you know where to find me.”
“same time next week?” you nod in response, eyelids fluttering shut as he threads his fingers through your hair, before pressing a tender kiss to your temple.
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m.list
 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.
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tonycries · 1 year ago
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Exes who…
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Synopsis. Showing up to a party looking like that. What's a man to do when he just can't stay away?
Pairing. Multiple x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, desperate boys, unprotected sex, NSFW, cunnilingus, pet names (my girl, babe), swearing.
Word count. 1.0k
A/N. This was supposed to be shorter, sorry lovelies. Art by @_3aem on Twitter.
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Exes who know they should stay away, but one whiff of your perfume at some dingy party and he’s dragging you to the nearest bathroom. 
He’s pathetic, he knows, but right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he spreads you on that bathroom counter and dives face-first into your dripping cunt.
Greedily lapping at your juices, the taste of your pussy on his tongue was so addictive. Fuck, he missed this so much. 
He feels feral. Groaning lowly at the tug of your hand on his hair which hurts so good. He flicks his tongue harshly over your throbbing clit. More. He needs more.
“Hah- Fuck- Feels so good!”
“Yeah, jus’ like that, my girl.”
Making out with your pussy was almost as addictive as fucking you. You were a drug he couldn’t let up - he couldn’t get enough of. 
Nose-deep in your cunt, he tastes you over and over the way he imagined when he fucked his fist on those lonely nights.
Fingers digging into your thighs, he moves your legs so that they wrap around his head, bringing him impossibly closer to your hot core. He breathes over it - teasing - mouth watering at the sight of it getting wetter just for him.
He’s pretty sure your sinful moans and the squelching sounds could be heard above the overplayed pop on the other side of the door. Good, let them hear. It’ll teach that scrub outside that was eyeing you a thing or two about what he can’t have.
“Hngh- Baby, I’m gonna-”
Once you cum around his tongue, hips bucking wildly and clit catching on his nose as you ride his face, he thinks he’d be happy to die here if it was in-between your legs. 
A final peck to your quivering cunt - not a goodbye, no, he’ll be seeing this pretty pussy again - but a prelude for what was to come. 
Amidst heated kisses, he lets you taste yourself on his tongue as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. Fucking trousers - they come with too many fucking buttons. He wants to feel you now. Have your wet cunt pulsing around his painfully hard cock as he gets drunk off of your pretty moans.
So he does.
He only has his flushed tip kissing your folds, but already feels like he’ll fucking pass out. He teases your entrance - willing himself to wait like he did all these past few months. This won’t be the last time - he knows - but he sure as hell is going to treat it like it is. 
“Tell me what you want, my sweet girl.” he huffs out, eyes boring into your dazed ones. Beautiful. You were always so beautiful.
“Please. I need you in me so bad.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Please, baby.”
Your lustful whimpers are what makes him snap. You were going to be the death of him. 
Fully sheathing himself in you, he fucks your pussy with a merciless cadence that has your nails digging into his shoulder at how painfully good you were stretched. Tight. So tight.
He feels himself losing his sanity as your cunt struggles to adjust to his size, walls clenching down on his throbbing erection. It’s animalistic - the way your pussy tries to suck him back in when he pulls out fully, only to ram inside you again.
“Shit- Pussy made jus’ for me. Only me.” he moans. 
One strong arm steadying himself on the counter, and the other with an almost-painful grip on your hip, he keeps up a pace that has his abs burning. Heavy balls stinging as they smack relentlessly against your ass. 
He bites down on your exposed neck to muffle the strangled groans ripping from his throat at the ethereal feel of your snug cunt - he needs to better drink in your fucked out yelps at his harsh thrusts.
His dick twitches inside when you start whining out his name as you reach closer and closer to your climax. He could do this forever. You were heaven on Earth.
In his hazy mind, he distinctly registers the jingle of the doorknob. Annoying fuckers can’t take a hint.
“Fuck off.” he barks out, “I’m fuckin’ my future wife in here.”
His heart clenches as you push your face into the crook of his neck in embarrassment. Pulling you closer to him in response - strings of slick and precum connecting you to him - he hopes whoever’s there up above strikes him down if he doesn’t wife you up. 
Ah…he’s so close.
There isn’t even a hair’s breadth between your two bodies as he fucks into you mindlessly, not even a trace of thought for the poor soul on the other side of the door. He’s got more important things to do - you.
“Baby- Shit. I’m so close.” your exhausted mewls are music to his ears. His balls tighten and cock aches for release. 
Teeth clenched and brows furrowed at how your walls were fluttering around him so perfectly, he grits out “Me too, my girl. Me too.”
Your legs tighten around his toned waist as your cunt clamps down on his thick length - sending both of you over the edge. 
He sees stars as he cums. Thick ropes painting your walls white and shaky whimpers of your name leaving his mouth like a prayer. You really were heaven on Earth.
Cum drips down the side when he slows down to shallow grinds of his hips, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into you. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he pulls his sensitive cock out of you.
With a long finger, he gathers the cum now slowly dripping out of you. Pooling it at his fingertips before popping them into his mouth, half-lidded eyes looking right into your fucked out ones. He moans around them as if tasting a delicacy, elated at the way your mouth drops in disbelief at his lewd act. 
He feels barely lucid as he snaps your panties back on you with a devilish grin and tucks himself back into his trousers. 
Unlocking the door to pointed looks he couldn’t care less about, he can’t keep his eyes off the alluring curve of your hips as you walk away back to the party - pretending like his cum isn’t making a mess of your panties right now. 
Dick twitching to life again, he pulls out his phone - unblocking you once more. 
– GOJO, Choso, Geto, Suna, ATSUMU, KUROO, Oikawa, Sakusa, JEAN, EREN
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A/N. …Gimme a min I’m cooking up something for Suguru…
Plagiarism not authorized.
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misskingshit · 9 months ago
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𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘵 summary: where he has an interest in a certain pop singer, and he doesn't try to hide it. note: believe me or not i’ve been listening hip hop since Im like 15 y/o, soooo why not do an M&M’s fic?? Let me know if u want part 2! xoxo
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The lyrics of Mr Eminem's new song being mostly about you? That was something you definitely didn't expect.
I get so weak on my knees
Lose all control
Damn, her silhouette
So hot
Fuck bein’ a gentleman
I'm going to fuck her instead
The red carpet at the Grammys has always been a dream for you, you had already won a couple of awards, today... you were excited to be the presenter of one of them.
Best Rap Album.
To say you were excited is an understatement.
You've loved this genre of music since you were a teenager, Tupac, Fifty, Snoop...to name the most classics.
The camera flashes were the only thing you saw, accompanied by many voices that stunned your ears just by hearing your name.
"Y/N! over here!" A reporter called you, without hesitation, you approached.
"Hey how are you?" you asked with a big smile.
"Incredible! How are you? I imagine you're very excited for tonight" he smiles.
"Don't even mention it! I can't wait to call the winner on stage!"
"Do you think Eminem is nominated? He's been on everyone's mouth lately with his latest song..."
Here we go.
"Yeah... well, I'm sure he'll be nominated, I mean, he's fucking Eminem, it would be like a sin if he wasn't, right?" You laughed a little awkwardly.
"What do you think about his last song, about his comments towards you? 50% of people are upset calling Eminem a degenerate..." you didn't let him finish speaking.
"Well...I really like him, I mean, I've always been his fan and it's an honor to be named in one of his songs. Plus I also think that...we all know how he's like, if you don't like his way to be, to think, to speak, the lyrics of his songs, just don't listen to it and that's it, problem solved, I don’t see the point in hating so much on something you can just...ignore" you laugh looking at the camera "Just take things more lightly, not everything is fighting and bad intentions."
You finished your conversation with said reporter and simply headed to your designated seat.
On the other hand, a certain blonde boy was also being attacked with questions regarding his controversial lyrics.
"She's here? Shit, I want to see her," the blonde rapper said, showing a small, very small, smile, turning his head around with the intention of catching some sign of the hot pop singer, you.
"Yes! In fact she will be the one to present the award for best rap album!"
"No shit! Damn man she's here" Em turned around and said to his best friend, Proof.
In a few minutes everyone finished settling into their seats and you both were surprised when you looked at each other, just a few seats away.
You were five seats to the right and three to the back, so you caught him every time he turned his head back a little to look and smile at you.
Until, soon...your moment had arrived, you got up from your seat to head backstage.
By the way, when you walked past the rapper, he didn't try to hide the fact that he couldn't take his eyes off you for even a second.
"And the Grammy goes to..." you created some tension "EMINEN!" You blurted out the name more excited than you should have.
The rapper's reaction might not have been very expressive normally, but he couldn't contain his smile when he knew who would be the one giving to him his award. The rapper and his friends got on stage and it was inevitable that you felt nervous as you watched him walk towards you, with a playful look, as if he knew what he generated in you.
"Congratulations," you whispered when he was close enough to you, taking the grammy as you felt the soft brush of his fingers against yours, he did it on purpose.
You didn't expect him to give you a hug.
"That's all I get?" He whispered back to you, keeping your faces close and your noses touching, his hands on your waist pulling you closer to him as if he didn't want to move away from you.
A great bustle from the public was heard, and it took them both out of the small cloud in which they were.
This was definitely going to stir the waters.
You both walked away, while you greeted and congratulated the rest of his friends (Proof winking at you in the process).
"Wow, shit, this is crazy, thank you so much to everyone who made the production of this album possible, Dr Dre, who always had my back, I will be forever grateful...and my god, damn, thanks to whoever the fuck is that put this beauty in that dress..." he turned to look at you and winked "Y/N Y/L/N ladies and gentlemen, the source of my inspiration for Heat Seeker"
Obviously, you blushed.
The entire audience was applauding, probably already starting to gossip among themselves about the little show between you and Eminem.
Like a gentleman he offered you his hand as he watched you walk down the steps of the stage with great caution. "Thank you," you whispered. “Any time” he smiles at you.
´Til the end of the awards you continued to connect glances from time to time, you also noticed how his friends bothered him every time he turned his head to look at you.
"Hey, Y/N! wait!" listen to yourself behind your back. "Hey," you looked at him softly, "whats up?" He shook his head quickly. "I just wanted to…I mean, normally I wouldn't give a shit, but, I wanted to make sure that the song didn't offend you, it wasn't to upset you…" You interrupted his attempt to apologies "Don't worry, I understand it was just the song, I didn't take it personally, actually, I loved it" you laughed. "You did? I'm glad you're not like the rest and laugh instead of being offended." His attempt to hide his smile failed completely.
It just slips away from him.
Just with you.
A few seconds of silence took over the situation, though it wasn't uncomfortable, your eyes connected and you didn't seem to realize that you had been staring at each other. "Uhm, I was about to go to my hotel," you pointed behind you, "I was gonna change for the afterparty."
"Can I go with you?" He asked you, but before you processed the fact that he wanted to go with you to your hotel, he interrupted your thoughts "I mean, just so then we can go to the party together, if you want" he scratched the back of his neck.
You didn't even need to think about it "Yeah, I would like that" you smiled.
The two of you walked together towards your limo, captured by several cameras, so neither of you doubted that tomorrow you would wake up to a bunch of articles about how Eminem and Y/N left the Grammy's together. But none of you care about it.
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pellucid-constellations · 1 year ago
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Faking It
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Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky Barnes was in love with his girl—disgustingly, annoyingly so. Enough to start fights on the ice just to make sure he saw her after a game.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: This is FLUFF!! With HOCKEY MAN
a/n:​​​ This was originally something completely different but then I hated it so now it's all fluff and now I do not hate it. Pleaseeeee let me know what you think and if you enjoy it!! I love you thanks for reading ❤️❤️❤️
Masterlist
~~
“Jesus Christ, Buck. Again?” 
Bucky grinned, split lip tightening uncomfortably. When he turned to his captain, he had the gall to act oblivious. “What do you mean, captain?” 
Steve gave him a disapproving look. “Give it up, pal. There was no need to pick a fight with that guy and you know it.” 
“He was talking shit about the team!” 
“They’ll always be a player talking shit about the team.” 
“Then why’re you breathing down my neck right now, huh? We won. Be happy, Cap,” Bucky encouraged, slinging an arm over his shoulder. Steve raised a brow back at him but was clearly fighting back a smirk. Bucky could tell by the way his eyes lifted, contrasting his deep—albeit fake—frown. 
In truth, Bucky had been looking for a fight. He’d been looking for a plethora of fights since the start of the season, and was usually quite successful with his venture. It had garnered him quite the reputation, but where the crowd saw it as a short-fuse on a large man, Steve saw it for what it really was. 
An opportunity to see you. 
And while Steve could appreciate the dedication, it made one of his best players ride out unnecessary time in the penalty box. 
“I am happy. Just not with you,” Steve clarified, knocking Bucky’s arm away. 
Bucky let out a sound close to a scoff. “Even with my extra time in the sin bin I still helped carry. It’s just part of the game, Steve. Gotta protect the team’s pride.” 
“Yeah,” Steve drawled sarcastically, stopping in front of the locker room doors. “I’m sure that was your reasoning. What was it last game? Someone said something about your ma?” 
“Hey, he did.” 
“They always do.”
Heavy footsteps created a commotion in the hall, the rest of the team finally catching up with the pair. They funneled their way into the room for showers and a fresh change of clothes, and Steve stood with his crossed arms leaning against the wall, somehow still directing an admonishing look towards Bucky amidst the crowd. Bucky did his best to look baffled by the unspoken accusation, but then Sam Wilson passed by and Bucky’s ploy was disintegrated. 
“Hey man,” Sam greeted, slapping a friendly hand against Bucky’s arm as he passed. “You let someone beat the shit out of you again so you could go see your girl?” 
Bucky’s scoff returned, but this time Steve was having none of it. He kicked off of the wall and went to follow the rest of the team into the locker room. Bucky watched with a grimace, not only caught, but put on display.
“You know,” Steve called over his shoulder, not expecting Bucky to follow. “You’re dating the girl now. You don’t gotta keep up with this whole schtick.” 
“I don’t have a schtick,” he called back. At the responding laugh from Steve, Bucky yelled, “I don’t!” but no one was listening to him. Or believing him. 
But fine. If his schtick involved you, in any capacity, Bucky would admit to having one. 
Some of what Steve said was right. Bucky was dating you now. You were his girl and that would imply total access to you all the time, whenever he wanted. He didn’t need to pick fights or feign injuries anymore (the latter never really worked anyways), because he had a key to your apartment. And you were in his bed more weekends than not. 
But, damn, were you busy right now. 
Bucky had never really considered how much schooling went into becoming a physical therapist until he met you. You were typically swamped with papers and tests and requests from Dr. Cho, but this past month had been exponentially worse thanks to finals. He had seen you about once a week if he was lucky, and that was a generous estimation. Add your crazy schedule to the alarming amount of away games he had over the past few weeks and he was champing at the bit to see you. 
Bucky just prayed it was you in the training room today and not Dr. Cho. His odds were pretty favorable considering the team’s main trainer didn’t usually stick around after games if there were no major injuries, but there was always the off chance she let her interns go home early. But, knowing you, you would be in that room until the rink lights went off. 
God, he loved you. Every overworked, high-strung bit of you. 
He even loved the scolding look you shot him as he pushed open the training room doors, his bruises and cuts on full display. You dropped the pen you were tapping against an overflowing notebook and rocketed out of your rolling stool, and Bucky adored the way you stomped over to him, biting the inside of your cheek to stop the curse you clearly wanted to let free. 
“Hey, baby,” Bucky smiled, this time ignoring the sting in his lip. “Funny seeing you here.” 
You huffed, bringing careful fingers up to his chin. “Not very funny,” you mumbled. “Not when you look like someone hit you with their car.” 
Bucky let you fuss for a moment, following your touch as you turned his head back and forth and examined his split knuckles. This was your job, so obviously he let you do it, but he enjoyed watching you. So he didn’t stop you from lifting his jersey up to inspect his middle, because how else would he catch the cute way you scrunch your nose up in concentration? If he pulled his hands away when you started testing the range of motion in his wrists, when else would he be able to track your lips as you softly counted and mouthed gentle confirmations? 
Never. Because you were so damn busy. 
“Missed you,” Bucky said after sneaking a kiss on your forehead while you were prodding at the bruise on his collarbone. “I’ve been missing you a lot.” 
You let a small smile interrupt the disgruntlement on your face. Bucky grinned at the change, pressing another kiss to your hair while he still could. 
“Did you miss me enough to send a right hook into that guy’s jaw?” 
“Yes.” 
Your smile was gone again. Now you looked aghast. “Bucky.” 
“What?” he exclaimed, sliding his torn hands from your healing ones to wrap you in his embrace. “You want me to lie instead? Okay, fine. No, sweetheart, I didn’t start a fight just to have an excuse to see you. That guy got all these punches in on me because I’m out of practice, is all. I don’t think about you every waking second of my life, and while we’re at it, no I did not use your shampoo this morning because I miss how—”
“Okay, okay,” you laughed, resting your forehead on the divot in his chest. “I get it. Thanks for being truthful.” 
Bucky relished in the feel of you. He had been slightly worried that his state would cause you to be more upset than anything. If you weren’t so tired right now, there was a high chance you’d be yelling at him because of his recklessness instead of resting against his chest. So Bucky jumped at the opportunity, trailing one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. He craned his neck down, burying his face into the juncture of your neck. 
He hadn’t been lying about the shampoo. 
“I miss you too. Even if you act like an idiot sometimes,” you mumbled against his jersey. 
Something in Bucky felt lighter, warm. “Acting like an idiot’s the only way I get to see my girl.” 
You hummed. “Sorry ‘m so busy.” 
You had to be exhausted. Not even a single reprimand had tumbled from your mouth. Bucky had expected at least three. 
“When’s the last time you slept, baby?” Bucky kept his voice low, his thumb making unconscious circles against your hair. 
“I don’t know. In the night.” 
“Okay, thanks smart ass.” Bucky jostled you a bit until your eyes met his. “I meant when did you last take a break? Get a good night’s sleep?” 
You sighed, gaze trailing over his face. “Let me fix you up. Then we can play twenty questions.” 
“Baby—”
“No, Buck, this is the training room, if you haven’t noticed,” you quipped, stepping back and rifling through a few drawers. “Take a seat and I’ll fix you. That’s my job.” 
“Well, what about my job?” he grumbled back. 
“You have failed at your job. Your job is hockey and you instead played human punching bag.” 
“Not that job. My other job. The one where I take care of you.” 
You spun on your heel, a basket of supplies resting on your hip. The sweater that engulfed your frame had the university’s logo stamped across the front, but instead of jeans or slacks—the usual uniform for PT interns—you wore leggings. Your hair was pulled back in the most endearing, pretty mess, and Bucky’s chest hurt as he looked at you. 
��My tired girl,” he hummed, bringing his hand up to your cheek as you pushed him down on the exam chair. He sat if only to appease you, his feet still flat on the floor even with the tall seat.
“I’m only a little tired,” you weakly fought. Bucky chuckled in response, sanitary paper crinkling beneath him. “Now let me clean you up.” 
You snapped gloves onto your hands and Bucky fought back a petulant whine. If he had been any other member of the team, those gloves would have been on the second they walked in the door. He should be grateful, then, that you only put them on when it was time to tend to his wounds, but he wasn’t. He missed you too much to feel latex instead of your skin. 
Bucky’s lip stung as you cleaned it, but he hardly flinched. If he moved, he would miss the pretty way you bit into your lip as you stared at him. 
“Remember when I’d be in here all the time?” he asked when you turned back down to grab antibiotic cream. 
You let out a tired laugh. “How could I forget? You picked a fight every game. If that didn't work you’d come stumbling in here complaining about a torn ACL or whatever. Big liar.” 
“I wouldn’t call it lying.” 
The smile you gave him was replicated on his own face. 
“You were literally lying.” You dabbed the cream on his lip, and then moved to the cut on his cheek. “You would come limping in here and then I’d see you an hour later running out to the parking lot.” 
“You wouldn’t look at me if I wasn’t injured.” 
“It was my job, Bucky!” you laughed, eyes giving away your amusement. “I wasn’t supposed to be fraternizing with the players. I’m pretty sure Cho only lets us be together because you wouldn’t leave her alone otherwise.” 
Bucky moved his hands from his thighs to your waist, tugging you closer as you worked. “Hey, sometimes drastic measures are needed.” 
“You called her multiple times a day… bought her an edible arrangement. Wait, didn’t you offer to drive her kids to school a few times?” 
“It worked, didn’t it,” he posed, nudging his nose against your cheek. You giggled, lightly slapping his arm to get away. 
“The edible arrangement was a good touch,” you relented. 
Bucky released you as you wiggled from his grip, flitting around the training room to put supplies back. He spotted your backpack in the corner of the room, unzipped with the water bottle tipping out. When you sat down at the computer to document his care, which he found a bit ridiculous (you only put a bandaid on his face), Bucky walked over and gathered your things. He did so slowly so you wouldn’t notice; you probably had plans to stay at the rink for another few hours, and that was not okay with him. 
With a final zip and your water bottle now standing upright, Bucky meandered over to your seated position. He hooked his chin over your shoulder as you worked, leaning over and tapping your phone screen for the time. His heart twisted warmly in his chest when he saw a picture of himself smiling under the 8:00 pm displayed on the homescreen. 
After all the pining and work it took to get you, Bucky often felt this wasn’t real. 
God, he loved you. 
“I know what you’re trying to do,” you whispered, clicking away at the computer. “I still have some charting to do. Peter hit his head yesterday and I have to do the follow up work.” 
Still in his uniform, Bucky wrapped you up from behind. Now you would both need a shower and he could get you to leave. He kissed the back of your head, and then your temple, and then your cheek as he craned his neck to watch you work. You smelled like fresh laundry and books and the subtle hint of your perfume.
“Parker’s fine. He was up and playing today. Let’s go home, baby,” Bucky murmured, most of his words spoken against your skin. 
“I know he’s okay. But head injuries are a completely different protocol and I have to—” 
“I miss you,” he reiterated. “And you’re working too hard. All the lights are off in the rink ‘cept for this one. Come back to my place. Let me take care of you.” 
“Why don’t you shower and change first? I’ll leave with you once you finish.” 
Bucky spun your stool around suddenly, one hand on your waist, the other reaching back to steady himself on the desk now at your back. “Oh no, don’t try to pull that on me. I get back in here, you’re gonna tell me you started something new you can only finish on the PT computer and you can’t leave for another hour. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
You let out a quick sigh, caught. “Well, what about—” 
“Nope,” Bucky interrupted. He used his far hand to shut the facility computer and then guided you up. “You’re coming home with me. You’re gonna sit in the car while I drive you to my apartment and then we’re gonna take a shower together and I’m gonna make you feel so good you don’t even remember what a concussion is.” 
“Bucky,” you chastised, hiding your face in his shoulder. 
His laugh shook your head. “Still so damn shy.” He reached down to grab your bag, slinging it over his shoulder and placing a hand on the back of your neck, meeting your averted gaze. “Just me in here, baby.” 
“I know. But you don’t have to be so vulgar.” 
“Vulgar? Sweetheart, if you want vulgar I’ll tell you exactly what I’m gonna do to you the second we—” 
You slapped your hand over his mouth, careful for the delicate skin there. Still, Bucky was sure you could feel his smile against your skin, and he fought back an even bigger one when he saw the embarrassed twist of your brow. 
Slowly, he pried your wrist down, kissing the palm of your hand on the way. “Sorry,” he whispered, not sorry in the slightest.
You pursed your lips, flustered. “You’re such an antagonizer.”
Bucky could do this every day and never grow tired of it. It had been months now and he found himself only wanting you more. 
“Can’t help it. I love you.”
Your faux annoyance morphed into a bashful smile, the kind Bucky remembered from his time faking injuries. It was reminiscent of when you were trying not to laugh at his jokes, or smile at his flirting, or give him any reaction he was looking for. 
But he always got what he wanted in the end. 
And, more than anything, he wanted you. 
“That one do the trick?” Bucky asked. “Am I finally getting my girl to come home with me?” 
When you looked up at him with raised brows and a smile twisted up at the corners, he knew you’d given up. Perfect timing, too, because—in all honesty—Bucky had been punched in the side during his on-ice tussle, and his ribs were starting to hurt. You were going to be pissed when you saw the bruise form tomorrow morning, but you would be pissed in his bed, so it was worth it to Bucky.
“I have to get a little bit of homework done when we get there,” you reasoned, pointing an accusing finger at your boyfriend. 
He threw his hands up in surrender, dropping one down over your shoulders as you both walked out. “Okay, okay. Homework at my place, I got it.” 
“That comes first, Bucky. Before anything else. Shower, then homework, and then… other things.” 
“I know what first means, baby.” 
“Good.” 
But Bucky had other plans, and they did not involve homework. He was pretty sure you were ahead, anyways. Like, weeks ahead, actually. 
“You eat dinner yet?” he asked, fishing his keys from his pocket. 
You looked up at him, incredulous. “What did I just say?” 
“What?” he defended, tugging you closer as the wind in the parking lot whipped at your clothes. “I can’t make sure my girl’s had dinner? What am I allowed to do?”
You only scoffed, tucking yourself further into his side. “Keep me warm.” 
“Always, baby.” 
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just-some-random-blogger · 29 days ago
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Tormented Spirit | 12
Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."
Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: i would just like to bring everyone's attention to the fact this fic is called tormented spirit. BTW some of yall might wanna read my weasely twins fluff cuz 😀 yeah you should read some fluff! leave comments/reblogs ok!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS | cross posted on ao3
@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones
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Since your sister's wedding, there were two things you no longer did: speak to your sister and go to your father. Everyday, instead of having the Lord Hand accompany you to your maester, you were accompanied by one of your wards.
At first, you were apprehensive with the change. After all, they were your knights, but neither of them were the father to your babe, and even fathers were rarely involved with prenatal care. Though, the patience they extended is not unusual, you were surprised that Erryk and Arryk took time asking the maester additional information concerning things that might need their attention in the future.
Today, you walk to the maester's ward, one hand on your belly the other on Erryk's bicep. As he opens the door, you freeze when you hear the voices in the room.
"Daughter." "Sister."
These words are spoken at the same time. You clench your teeth and turn to Erryk, whose jaw is set. You take a breath and decide to simply come back later.
Alicent stands the cot she sat upon and raises a hand, "please! I'm finished. You can come now."
Finished? Why is she being examined by the maester?
Otto is angered by your persistence to ignore them. He scowls and glares at Erryk, "you remind your princess to practice some humility," he points a finger, "her actions are affecting the queen, who is now carrying an heir."
Your face drops as you turn to her.
She is already staring at you. You watch her pick her nails. You catch the redness of her cuticles.
Erryk is equally shocked. He stutters before nodding in regard, "congratulations, my queen."
Alicent shakes her head, forcing a smile, "t-thank you, ser."
Your father's eyes remain on you. He waits for you to offer the same sentiment, but his anger only intensifies at your continued silence. He scoffs, "will you not even congratulate your sister?"
You clutch your pronounced belly and turn to your maester, "may we please do the examination? I cannot bear to stand for long."
Otto and Alicent watch you move past them. The latter is resigned to your commitment of not speaking to her, the former seethes and laughs dryly. He offers his arm to the queen, "come, daughter. Let us pray that your sister's impertinence is merely as side effect of childbearing."
Your sister spares you a glassy glance before taking Otto's arm and leaving with him. You watch as they leave, feeling yourself grow hard of breathing.
The maester asks you to sit, but before you do, you snatch his arm, "is she truly with child?"
He looks at your teary face. He feels the tremble of your hand as he places his own atop of it. He carefully speaks "it is joyous news, is it not?"
You release a shaky breath as he helps you sit.
"Princess," the maester warily says, "breathe for me. We cannot proceed if you overcome by your affliction."
You place both your hands on your belly and take a couple deep breaths. You close your eyes and resist the sob that threatens to come. A couple of tears wet your cheeks, but you manage to remain intact. You wipe your face and mutter to yourself, "it's barely been a moon since they've wed."
Your maester hears it though and offers, "your sister is blessed with a fertile womb."
You wish he had not tried to comfort you with such an idea.
You try not to think of Alicent as you do your daily examination, but she is all you think of. You think of how frightened she must be. You think of how your father surely told her about your daily visits to the maester. You wonder if he would force her to do the same, just to get you to talk to her. She wouldn't need daily examinations like you; she is perfectly healthy, stronger than you, as she said herself.
You are so deep in thought, you don't even realize the maester was finished with you, up until he says something that demands your full attention.
"What?" you knit your brows at him.
"We will be more certain of it as the moons wax and wane, but considering you are a twin yourself, and, again, because of the rather rapid growth of your belly, chances are my deduction is correct."
He helps you up and Erryk is quick to take your arm. You mutter through a shaky breath, "I'm carrying twins?"
Your maester nods, "highly likely."
You turn to Erryk, who offers you a reassuring smile, "I... congratulate you, my princess."
You stare at him for a moment and blink rapidly.
"You might give birth to a boy and girl who will have the same devotion you and your brother have," Erryk says in an attempt to take away some of the fear written across your face.
It does actually. You recall your visit to Oldtown and find yourself nodding, "I... I must write a letter at once."
Many moons come and go, but across the sea, the sun shines. Daemon's day has just started. His mood is nothing but sour, as it always is. He is loathe to start his day, but he does, and with a grunt, and leaves his tent to break his fast.
We eats with the Velaryons, Corlys, Vaemond, and Laenor, and though he did not hold any particular fondness for them, there was something in the way they all spoke in nothing but High Valyrian that made mornings not completely unbearable.
"My prince," Corlys greets him in their mother tongue. He hands Daemon a plate, "duck."
Daemon raises his brow at it, "with salt?"
"And pepper," Leanor says with a half-amused expression.
"My," Daemon sits down with them, "I am spoiled."
Corlys waits for Daemon to have a few bites before continuing conversation. He clears his throat, "before the day passes, allow me, my brother, and my son-" he looks between the said people, earning furrowed brows from Laenor, "-to greet you, both on behalf of House Velaryon, and as your comrade in battle for you—"
"Oh, yes!" Leanor interjects once he remembers, "congratulations, my prince!"
This earns him a look from his father, and his uncle. Laenor, who had been grinning, slowly raises his brows, "a-... apologies for interrupting, father."
Corlys sighs, "as I was-"
"And have we won the war overnight?" the prince says, rather uninterested, both in small talk and in his duck.
Corlys is confused by this, "I... no." He slowly tilts his head, "does your lady wife not write to you?"
Daemon is immediately on edge at the mention of you, "and what of her?"
Corlys narrows his eyes. He puts him to the test, "... you are aware your brother, the king, has remarried?"
Daemon whips his head his direction.
"And that also he expects an heir to be delivered come spring?"
"Remarried?!" Daemon repeats in offence, "and which scheming cunt managed to tricked him into marriage?"
Corlys turns to Vaemond, who turns to Leanor, who turns back to Corlys. The latter clears his throat, "your bride's sister, my prince."
His eyes widen. He looks between the Velaryons, then scoffs dryly. He begins to laugh, "that roach of a Hand has Viserys's bollocks shoved down his fucking throat."
Their faces contort at the foul language. Vaemond, in particular, is so offended that he cannot help but ask, "doesn't the princess write to you every day?"
Daemon clenches his plate
"And she never mentioned thi—"
"WHAT USE HAVE I TO READ THE WEEPY WRITING OF MY WIFE?!" the prince snaps, coming to a stand as he chucks his plate to the ground.
Corlys understands then Daemon's initial shock. However, he is still confused, "have you not read any letters from your wife?"
"Would you rather I be distracted, Corlys?" he snaps again, hands now clenched into fists.
Corlys is not intimidated by Daemon's anger, but he is also unincited by the idea a fight. He raises his hands in surrender, "most men gladly welcome distractions in the heat of war."
Daemon chuckles dryly, "I am not most men," then storms all the way back to his tent.
"Jiōragon hen ñuha ñuhoso!" he snaps in High Valyrian still, shoving the unwitting soldier aside. Get out of my way!
He returns to his tent. Another unwitting victim is there. "My prince," he bows, "a letter from Lady H-" Daemon snags the letter from him and shoves him away with exceeding anger and force.
He enters his tent and immediately chucks the letter to the floor, as if it was a vase he intended to shatter into a million pieces. It doesn't, of course; the paper remains intact, along with its seal. He crushes it beneath his heel then grabs the sack containing all your unread letters. He empties it on the floor and violently begins to stomp all over them.
You were his. You were meant to be his! Yet here you were, a pawn in someone else's game. His lust and infatuation has blinded him from this truth. You and your sister were mere tools of your cunt father to manipulate the throne.
He continues to trample your letters until they are brown with the dirt. He catches a lone letter that managed to evade his violence. He picks the unscathed object and only now does he realize its red waxen seal had an imprint of a dragon with a long neck that resembled Caraxes. Daemon scoffs, even his dragon you covet.
He breaks the seal. The letter was sent nearly a moon ago.
𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. ℑ𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔬 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔴. ℑ 𝔫𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔰 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤'𝔰 𝔏𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢; ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡. ℑ 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔫. ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢, 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔬𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔫, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔬𝔬𝔫. 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔣𝔢
A good place to raise children?! He scoffs and crumples the paper away. You fantasize of bearing his seed now? He laughs at the idea, chucking the paper across his tent. His amusement goes dry when he realizes it must be your father's ploy.
He's read enough.
Back in the Keep, you too receive a letter. It is from Gwayne, whose weekly response has finally arrived. You do not mind that he does not write to you daily as you did; you are grateful to receive a response at all.
You were set on reading his response, but as is was, you were experiencing terrible nausea and found yourself unable to sit or lie still. For some reason, the only thing that could combat this was walking around. You instead had your ward read your brother's words aloud for you.
Arryk's eyes trail back and forth you and your letter. He comes to your side when you gag, "princess."
You place a hand on your mouth, walking away from him. He watches as you circle your bed, "perhaps, I-"
"Please," you sigh, "do not make me beg you to read it."
Arryk stiffens and shakes his head, "my apologies, your grace." He turns to the parchment, "my twin."
" Louder," you grunt as you momentarily lean on your bed.
"My twin," Arryk repeats slightly louder, "I pray that your health is good, that you have been eating and sleeping as goodly as you did in the days of your visit here."
You take a deep breath and walk towards nothing in particular.
"While I confess a certain light has been lost in the halls of our Oldtown home since your leave, I..." your ward knits his brows, "disagree with your sentiments to return."
"What?" you gasp softly, turning to Arryk.
He looks at you and hesitates, "I... will not honey my words: you disappoint me with your coldness towards our youngest."
You clench your teeth as you feel another gag coming up, "fucking, Gwayne."
"She has written to me more than once to lament your severed relations since she's wed."
Your scoff makes Arryk pause. You look at him as you walk over, "do not stop."
He looks at you as you walk past him. He clears his throat, "I did not speak of it until now, for I believed you to be wiser than your betrayal."
"Ha!" you scoff, eyes immediately watering, "incorrigible pest," you grunt and rub your belly. You pace faster, "unyielding. Unfeeling."
Arryk watches you pace and takes a few steps back and forth so to remain arms reach of you.
"Continue!"
He stiffens, "I—," he turns back to your brother's words, "you've written you believe it will be better for you both that you away, lest your childbearing interlope with hers. I disagree. Consider me a fool-"
"He is," you scratch your eyes.
"-a man who knows nothing of childbirth, which I am, but I know my sisters— I know you at the very least." Arryk watches you as he says the next words, "leaving Alicent will haunt you, your satisfaction short-lived."
You stop in your tracks. You feel your dress tighten around you.
"Lay down your pride and allow yourself to reach for your sister who understands your struggle unlike anyone in the Seven Realms now more than ever."
You feel sick, sicker.
"Upon doing so, see then if you still wish to come to home."
You heave as you continue walking around.
"I offer many prayers to the Mother for both you and our sister. We are truly grown from the same womb, for I too share in your hope that you give birth to a twin boy and girl."
You rub your belly, as the thought softens you a fraction.
"Mostly, I speak thanks and praise for I am to be doubly an uncle. I pray your births come timely and smoothly, and I pray the Lord Hand has extended nothing but gentleness to you both," he folds the paper, "Your Twin."
"See now," you turn to Arryk, "even my twin betrays me, abandons me," you feel tears run down your cheek.
He slowly walks towards you, "that is not what he's done, my princess."
"Then what?!" you shake your hands, "am I not allowed even my anger now?!"
He is taken off guard when you shove him back.
"Even you are against me!"
Arryk steps back, though you barely mustered enough force for him to need to. You quickly pace around again. He feels the flesh beneath his steel you touched begin to push. His lips part "do not accuse me so harshly."
You whip your head back, glaring at him with red eyes, "SHE COULD HAVE BEEN MARRIED TO A LORD IN THE RIVERLANDS! OR HIGHGARDEN!" You throw your hand out, "ANYWHERE BUT HERE, BUT HERE SHE IS!"
His face falls when your rage makes you crumble. He gasp your name out as he catches you just before you fall.
"And for what?!" you wheeze as you are dragged to your bed. You rip at your collar as your chest tightens and tightens and tightens, "for me?"
"Princess," the knight's voice breaks with worry as he sits you down, "I beg you, ple-"
"Undress me," you mutter as you strugggle for air, "unlace my dress, I-"
He does not wait. He is quick to undo your bodice. He is so frantic, he nearly cuts your ties.
You moan as you feel a pressure leave you. You rip your dress off you, thinking of nothing else but catching your breath. Arryk helps you undress and you find it slightly easier to breath once you are left in nothing but your chemise.
Your ward struggles with himself; he does not wish to take advantage of this moment to ogle you, but he also cannot avert his gaze completely, lest you need his assistance. He clenches his jaw and lowers his gaze to his lap, muttering your name softly.
"Never mind my inadequacies, Arryk," you sigh in between deep breaths, "never mind that I will forever be second best to my father, who even wed me to his greatest enemy... who I am to make grandsire to not one but two Targaryen babes."
"Princess," he shakes his head, "I do not wish to-"
"I am used to his insistence of my dimness," you rub your chest, "of my capacity only for tears and succumbing to my own pain," your lips wobble, "but my sister—"
He stiffens and turns to you as lean into him. Your breath is too short and your head too heavy for you to keep yourself upright. Arryk calls our your name as he shifts, bringing his arm around to pull you upright.
"No," you wince, feeling a sharp pain in your belly, "hold me please."
He is immediately alarmed by how you clutch your side, "princess, are you-"
"Please," you rest your head on his armor, "hold me, even if you do not want to."
His hand twitches before, placing it your bare arm. He leans close, close enough to press his lips on your head, but he does not dare. He rubs your skin and whispers, "I want for nothing else."
You are too distracted by yourself that you do not hear him. Uncomfortable as the feel of his armor was, he lulls you into calmness.
When you feel well enough to realize how compromising it would be if someone were to witness you both, you pull away.
He says nothing, does nothing. He simply sit besides you, taking in your sad face.
You a tear drip from the tip of your nose. You rub it away before mumbling, "I had well-made plans for her... plans to shield her, to prosper her."
His eyes fall. He looks at the hand you had on your lap and dares to take it. It is cold and clammy, which is why he rubs it, eager to spread warmth.
The gesture makes goosebumps form on your arms. It makes your breath hitch, but not in a painful way. His gentleness encourages you to continue, "I once thought she looked up to me," you sniffle, "but when she said she was stronger than I," you lower your head.
He frowns.
"I knew then," you look back at him, "she sees only my weakness, along with the rest of the world."
He cannot help himself. He reaches for your cheek and wipes your tears.
You lean into his touch, "I can be strong, Arryk," you both his hands and squeeze them to prove a point, "can you not feel it?"
The gesture makes his heart break. He squeezes your hands in return, "you need not prove such a thing to me," he rubs your skin with his thumbs, "perhaps she does not want you to be strong... not for her."
You huff, "I am her older si-"
"But for your babe."
You are frozen by his words. You open your mouth but find nothing to say.
"Your brother," he gives you a solemn expression, "he says he prays the Lord Hand extends his gentleness to you, but I wonder if all that remained of his gentleness manifested into his daughters' beings."
The thought brings a tear from your eye, "Arryk."
"My princess."
"Should I speak to my sister come the morrow?"
He squeezes your hand again before slowly nodding.
The next day, you do everything in your power to do just that. You found Alicent breaking her fast, but you did not want to inadvertently ruin her appetite with your sudden appearance, for you knew how fickle it was in these times. Later, you found her in her chambers napping, but you didn't wish to interrupt her then either.
The rest of the day, you started feeling unwell, and you could not find it in you to leave your own chambers. When you finally did, the sun had set and Alicent was nowhere to be found. As a last resort, you ventured to the king's chambers.
Erryk announces you once you reach Viserys's door. You look at your knight with apprehension but he only returns a reassuring nod. There is a rather... sickly smell that assaults your senses when the door opens. The king himself answers, brows quirked in surprise.
"My king," you barely manage a curtsy. Erryk nods, "your grace."
Viserys regards you both then asks, "what brings you to my chambers at this hour?"
"I wanted to know if my sister was here," you absentmindedly rub your belly, "I wish to speak to her."
The king catches your belly, "oh, yes." He places a hand on your shoulder, "you are also with child," he chuckles, "I keep forgetting to congratulate you face to face."
You are taken aback by the half-hug he pulls you into.
Viserys chuckles as he pulls away, "well done, my dear. You have made the realm, and more importantly my brother, all the more richer for this."
You are rigid as he beckons you inside. Viserys motions to Erryk dismissively, and he nods. You wards gives you a silent look, and you know he'll wait for you outside.
Once you enter, you are assaulted by a scent that has clearly been attempted to be masked by fragrances. It makes you gag slightly, but it is not so bad that you cannot comport yourself.
You had expected to be lead to your sister, but instead, the king leads you to a massive diorama of what you could tell to be King's Landing.
"I am unsure where my wife is presently-"
His regard to your sister makes you clench your jaw.
"-but she visits me oft at this time of hour. Might as well show you my miniature figurines whilst waiting," he grins as he motions to the said object.
You feel an uncomfortable twinge in your stomach as you walk over to him.
Viserys immediately beams over his creation, recounting the trouble he had carving out the tower, exclaiming how much he enjoyed shaping the bridge. You have never seen him in such a light and it makes you wonder if this was his true self. Did he regard your husband this way? What were they like as children?
As he handed you two separate failed attempts of carving his fallen dragon, Balerion, you listen to him muse how the beast's skull was preserved in the basement bellow, and how he would gladly bring you there if you wanted to see. You groan and slightly lurch when another painful sensation ripples within you.
Viserys notices this. He quickly takes the figurines from you, "oh, where are my manners," he pulls a chair to your side, "sit, sit."
You gratefully take a seat and take a couple deep breathes as the king continues to drone about his diorama.
"You know, I used to make toy soldiers for Daemon growing up. I was aghast when he came back to me with severed heads."
You chuckle at his words, but instantly regret it when it adds to your pain.
"I still made him new ones, but this time, I put less effort and detail," Viserys speaks before noticing your reaction, "are you alright?"
"Mmm," you shake your head, "I think my babes are moving."
His brows quirk, "ah. That's right. You are expecting twins, are you not?"
You release a sigh when the uncomfortable sensations finally wane. You take a breath and offering a smile, "so says my maester. I hope it to be a boy and girl, like me and Gwayne."
He smiles, "it is quite fortunate that you and your sister are to have children at the same time," he looks over his miniature castle, "don't you think?"
"I think..." you turn to your belly, another groan leaving your lips, "Alicent is not ready to have children."
Viserys turns to you.
You look up at him and purse your lips, "nor am I."
He chuckles softly, "none of us are," he places a hand on your shoulder, "but I assure you, you learn as you go."
You find no comfort in his words.
"You know who has been ready though," he raises a finger, "Daemon."
The thought nearly makes you flinch.
He chuckles, "do not look so averted. There is gentleness in him," he turns back to his diorama, "do you not perceive it?"
You begin to feel sick.
"I tell you, when Rhaenyra was born, his face shone."
Your brows tighten at the smile the king offers you.
"I could tell as he held my child, he thought her the most precious thing in the worlds," Viserys face softens, "I could tell he wanted to have something precious to hold as his own," he absentmindedly examines a chisel, "the gods bless me with a wife who is going to birth me something precious," he turns to you, "and a good-sister who is going to birth my brother something doubly precious."
His words make your heart tinge. You are blindsided by how genuine, how vulnerable your conversation is. You wonder if Alicent saw this amidst the cruelty of the world and decided to settle for it rather than the uncertainty from another man. As he falls deeper into another fond tale of his brother, you feel a dull pain spread across your hips.
"That reminds me," he claps his hands, "do you have any names picked out yet?"
You shift uncomfortably in your chair, "well... I've-" you huff, "gone through some books that held Valyrian names," you inhale, "and found a few names for boys, namely Vaerus,—"
"Ah, Vaerus," Viserys repeats, "meaning genuine."
"Eadan—"
He grins and points, "little fire."
"—and Alaeric," you huff.
"Hmm," he turns to the ceiling in thought, "no, I don't know that one."
You are restless because of your pain. You groan as you stand, "I- mmm- prefer the last one the most because it is similar to my mother's name, and I should like to name my boy and girl after her."
He chuckles, "you seem quite set on a boy and a girl."
"Mmm," you hum uncomfortably, "I- I hope for it." You rub your belly, "I hope they have fondness for each other like me and mine own twin."
He knits his brows at your demeanor, "a son and a daughter would suit you well," he smiles fondly, "what was the name of your late mother again?"
"A-" you groan, "Alyrie."
Viserys finally reaches for you, "are you quite certain you're alright?"
You hum as you take the king's bicep, squeezing him tightly, "mmm, I should like to lie down now."
"Yes, of course," he shakes his head, leading you to the door.
Just before you can reach the entrance, a great pain forces you to lurch forward and yelp. You grip onto Viserys's arm for dear life and he grips you with hands. He thinks to grab the chair he pulled for you again, but as he looks back , his eyes widen at the trail of blood that leads to it. "GUARD! GUARD!"
You are in too much pain to react to the king's screams. You can only screw your eyes shut.
Erryk bursts through the doors, face white, heart racing.
"CALL THE MAESTER AT ONCE! SHE'S BLEEDING!"
Your eyes widen at the word, "bleeding?" You momentarily manage to gather enough wits to see what Viserys was speaking of.
Erryk does not linger in his horror. He bolts out and sprints down the halls, screaming for a maester as if his life depended on it because yours did.
The sight of your blood is mortifying. You lift your skirt as pain continues to seizes and a horrified noise leaves you when you find the red that pools by your foot.
It all happens at once after. An ache so great forces you to the floor. You are burning hot yet shivers run down your spine. You do not know if Viserys is speaking as you slowly crumple your knees but you do know that you are screaming loud.
Then it passes. Serenity ebbs and flows. You manage to sit on your bum, but then it's back with a vengeance. You resist the squeal that morphs into to a shriek and then— you gasp, "no."
Viserys watches, the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms watches as you rip your skirt up and tear your ruined undergarments down, powerless.
Your scream makes his stomach curdle.
Your hands tremble as you reach for the two small bodies between your thighs. You bring them into your chest, uncaring of all else, how wet they are, how red stains you, how Viserys speaks your name. Your babes are are small; they are both far, far too small.
Anguish draws more noises from your throat. It doesn't take long until your voice is hoarse. You cannot keep your peace as you take in their tiny faces. You wipe them with your skirt, finding the silver of their brows and lashes. You also find the gods gave you a girl and a boy. You choke on a sob as you wipe the red away from their thin, white locks, "please wake for your mummy."
The words arrest Viserys. He recalls holding Baelon as life left him. He cherishes now more than ever that at least his boy gazed upon him once. He shares in your misery, yet does not know if how he should approach you; he does not know if he should. He does anyway, no matter how haunting the sound of your wails are.
You quiet momentarily as the man crouches beside you. Your lips wobble, "p-perhaps they'll wake up if you speak High Valyrian."
The thought is gutting.
You gently pull at one babe's eyelid, finding a violet eye looking back at you. Except it isn't looking at you at all and the thought makes you squall. You clutch your children tightly into your chest, rocking them back and forth, "forgive me, my loves. Forgive me for birthing you too soon."
Erryk finally arrives with the maesters. He is stunned in his spot whereas the maesters run to your side. He falls to his knees as you lift your children up. They do not touch them, but instead look at each other before muttering something that makes you pull your twins back into your chest.
Your ward is ashamed to face you. He has failed you. Erryk comes to a stand and dares to come near you. You do not notice him. You do not care for anything or anyone else in this moment.
Crimson grief trails behind you as you make your way to the maester's ward. Erryk meant to carry you, but you refused, knowing the walk there would be the last time you'd ever get to hold your children. He silently walks beside you, eyeing your every move.
You freeze when you see your sister by the door. Erryk looks between the two of you, ready to give you space.
Alicent is distraught. Her eyes are nearly as red as yours and you can how her hands tremble even as she picks at them, "sister, I-"
"I wanted to talk to you earlier today."
Her face falls and she immediately runs up to you. She reaches for you but stops herself.
You frown at it, thinking it was because you had been cruel to her, "forgive me, sister."
She rapidly shakes her head, "do not even mention it."
A tear fogs your vision, "very well," you sniffle as you lower your gaze, "would... would you like to see them?
She wordlessly agrees.
You step closer to her, "this is Alaeric... and Alyrie."
A hand comes to her mouth, "sister."
"They're perfect, are they not?"
She nods rapidly, "yes—" she shudders, "they are."
You sob with her as she brings her arms around you. Erryk cannot bare the sight. Hot tears run into his armor. Both him and Alicent stay with you as the maesters see to your health. They let you hold Alaeric and Alyrie until your examination commences, and then you confess that if they do not take them now, you will never let them be taken from you ever again.
You were exhausted as you lie in bed. Your body yearned for repose, but you could do nothing of the sort. You groggily stand and walk to your door.
Erryk starts. You caught him in the middle of scratching tears away from his eyes. You frown, "forgive me."
"No, princess," he shakes his head and turns to you, "how might I serve?"
You bite your lip, hating yourself for what you were about to request, "I know it is terrible..." you sigh deeply, "I know it is inappropriate, and wrong, and an abuse of my power over you," you tremble, "but please you sleep with me."
"My princess, I-"
"Please," you raise a hand, "if it is too horrible, per- perhaps-" you hiccup, "you can drag the set— the settee beside my bed-"
He silences you by taking your raised hand. You continue to sob as he shakes his head, "I would do anything you ask of me."
You sob and throw your arms around him. Erryk embraces you back, though he was afraid his hard uniform might hurt you.
Otto sees this exchange from across the hall. He had not been moved to tears until this moment. He scratches his eyes before they fall and steels himself away as he walks off. He mentally takes note to observe the Cargyll brothers and to sternly remind them of their duty and vows.
Erryk follows you to your bed. You crawl into your bed as he drags the settee from across the room beside you. You offer him a pillow and he gratefully takes it. You knit your brows when he lies down. You sniffle, "will you not take your armor off?"
"I..." he starts, about to explain it is inappropriate.
"Is it hard to remove by yourself?" you sit up, "I can help."
"I-" but his words go dry when you begin to undo his steel uniform with much ease.
All your years assisting Gwayne in and out of his armor has made the act come easy for you. You think nothing of it, but Erryk's heart races as you undo his chest plate. He sucks in a sharp breath as you put the metal down, then refuses your help, resigning to undo the rest himself.
You sink into your sheets as you watch your knight lay his armor down. It occurs to you in this moment that this was the first time you'd ever seen him without it. Even through his loose dress shirt, you can see his defined arms and torso. You even see a sliver of a scar from where his shirt opened on his chest and it makes you avert your gaze, knowing you've looked where you should not have.
Your lips begin to wobble as you think of Daemon and the scars he had on his skin. You feel pathetic as you begin to sob again.
Erryk hates the sound. He sits down on the settee and sniffles, "would you like me to sing for you?"
You wipe the snot on your philtrum as you look at him.
"I do not think I inherited her voice, but my mother used to sing to my brother and I when we were younger."
The word mother makes you feel sick, but you do not tell him that, and simply nod.
He clears his throat and takes a breath, "the fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head."
A chuckle is drawn amidst your tears as Erryk continues to sing.
"The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."
You ask him to repeat this song over and over and he humors you each time.
The day breaks and Arryk comes to your door for his shift. He holds a basket of flowers and a frown. He knocks on your door and announces himself. He is surprised when he hears footsteps approaching. His eyes widen when Erryk opens the door for him. His mouth falls at the messiness of his hair, then it clicks. Arryk nearly drops his basket as he grabs his twin by the collar, "what in seven hells have you done, you fool?"
Erryk is stoic as he responds, "my duty."
"Your-" he looks over his shoulder and pushes his brother into the room, closing the door behind him. Arryk makes sure to keep the silence and spares you a quick glance. The sight of your sleeping form makes him slightly soften, but he still manages to glare at his brother, "did you sleep here?"
Erryk turns to you, "she asked-"
"Did you sleep with her?" Arryk snaps.
The twins glare at each other. Erryk's face contorts in disgust, "I slept on the settee, brother. What do you take me fo-"
"I take you for a fool!" Arryk quips under his breath as he points an accusing finger.
Erryk scoffs, clenching his fist, "and you would have left?"
"I would have waited for her to sleep and resumed my post outsi-"
"Please."
The twins turn, finding you sitting on your bed, rubbing your puffy face. They both instinctively step forward and speak in unison, "princess."
"Please," you repeat, "I asked him to stay."
Arryk turns to Erryk.
"I do not want you to argue because-" you cannot continue because you begin to cry.
Both their faces fall, but Erryk wastes no time in coming to you. He kneels beside your bed and takes your hand, repeating the song he sang to you last night.
Arryk immediately recognizes the tune. His heart tightens as he watches the display. He mutters under his breath, "what have you done?" He walks over to him and watches the way you squeeze his brother's hand. He thinks of how you did the same for him just yesterday and clenches the basket's handle tightly. He begins to sing with his twin.
"The fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head.
The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."
These are the very words you sing to your sister's son.
Alicent was with child again, and you were giving her a much needed reprieve from her energetic boy who was now nearing his second name day. Aegon happily reached for flowers as you carried him through the gardens. He laughs with not a care in the world. It is strange how deeply happy and deeply sad the boy makes you feel.
Through it all, you smile as you sing. You bounce him in your hip once you finish, "right, shall we go back now?"
Aegon blissfully ignores you when his hand brushes against a flower. You pull him away before he can grab it, and push his hand down, "no, my love, we do not pick roses so carelessly."
Aegon cares little for your words and raises his hand again, "flower!"
You push his hand down and look at him, "you want the rose?" You adjust him in your arm, "you want to pick the rose for mummy?"
"Mummy?" Aegon repeats, turning to you to reach for your brown curls.
You chuckle when he tries to eat it and pull your hair away before he manages to, "silly boy. Shall we ask Ser Arryk to pick the flower for us?"
"Flower for mummy!" he bounces in your arms.
You bounce him back, making him giggle as you repeat, "flower for mummy!" You flip your hair back, "Ser Arryk, could you-"
Your mouth goes dry when you see Daemon staring back at you.
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hazelfoureyes · 8 months ago
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Alastor in Rut (one shot)
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Rutting Alastor x Fem Rabbit Reader
Less than confident and lacking much in the way of assertiveness, you find hell to be scary. But, a very kind and helpful deer demon has a solution! Just in time, as an unexpected rut hits him and he feels the need to reel you in.
this is pure self indulgence. Shout out to @jazzmasternot , @lustylita , @sugoi-writes , and @minkdelovely for keeping me sane and horny (with art lol)
「Warnings/Promises: actual warning - mentions of accidental vehicular homicide and reader's death, Marathon Smut, p in v, finger almost in a?, anal is considered, knotting because fuck it, attempt at breeding, womb flooded, not dubcon but everyone in the hotel thinks it is, slightly repetitive fucking because he wont waste semen on other holes, Alastor would fuck anyone but you’re the most amusing, Alastor doesn’t think he’s the good guy which is honestly kinda cute, deadass talk about making you carry his fawns?? Why is it so hot?? Knock me up deer man bleat bleat bitch, implied previous relationship with a human man, plans to cuckold your ex, heat, blue fire isn’t hot, you’re tricked into a deal with Alastor, kinda size kink, demon Alastor, minor aftercare, a little sexual choking (as a treat)」
Hey--- we're all here for something. This is 10000 words, 5300 or so is smut. Smut starts at the bright green divider for you impatient and horny deeries.
MINORS YOU KNOW THE DRILL DNI
The line for reception was long, but that was to be expected. After the extermination ended early and Adam killed on television by a maid, the Hazbin Hotel had been busy. Or so you overheard others saying. You’d only been in hell a day, lucky enough to catch the advertisements and hear the gossip for the hotel soon after your descent.
You recognized the princess immediately, but not that tall man beside her. He wasn’t doing anything, just staring and smiling. Was he friendly? Were there friendly people in hell? Truly friendly. Not high school girl friendly. Or hungry witch friendly. He had witch vibes.
“Hiya welcome to the”, she took a deep breath in, “Hazbin Hotel! I am Charlie! This is Alastor! What did you do to bring you to hell? Gotta know so we can cater your redemption activities to your sins!”
She was staring at you so happily, pen over paper. Your eyes nervously shot to the man, who leaned down in response.
“I fell asleep driving and killed someone, and myself.”
Everything about Charlie was frozen still except the sudden glossiness forming over her eyes. “You… you… were you like, a thief or… did you…… push old ladies into traffic?”
You shook your head no.
“Gluttonous? She asked.
“No, I wasn’t a fan of overindulgence.”
“Prideful, then?” 
“Unfortunately… I don’t think too highly of myself. Living or dead.” Your hand came to your down turned rabbit ears, sad and limp. Even in death you weren’t the right kind of anything.
“Uhh,” Charlie clicked her pen furiously again and again, “Lustful?”
“Just the one partner. My highschool sweetheart.”
A sweat was forming on Charlie’s brow, “Sloth?”
“I did fall asleep behind the wheel… but it was from working 25 hours of overtime this week.”
Charlie put the pen down, “I don’t think you belong in hell. You made an accident. That’s not how sins should work…”
Your eyes bore holes into the desk, avoiding eye contact, “I don’t think heaven cares much about that.”
“Poor thing. Let’s circle back, Charlie.” Alastor’s large hand rested on your head, patting twice. 
She nodded, “Good call. I’ll just,” her tongue stuck out as she began to write, “make a new category just for you! Other.”
Yeah that made sense, you thought. That was fitting. This truly was hell. Finally you stood out, as the one who didn’t fit in. You supposed that’s what a wallflower deserved for murder. 
“Follow me little one.”  The tall Alastor instructed you as he snatched a key from the hook and walked past you.
Happily. Small tail uncontrollably swishing as you followed a foot behind him.
A hum of approval, Alastor noticing the distance you kept.
“You obey instructions well.”
You always did. “Thank you.” Tiny and soft, your response made his shadow shift and smile.
It wasn’t a compliment, but the fact you took it as one interested him. Subservient. 
Fun. 
“I take it that you really were a good girl in life, weren’t you?” He swiveled on his heels to face you, the sudden change causing your face to run into his lower chest.
A song of apologies fell from your mouth as you backed up, tripping over your own pathetic attempts at platitude and falling back onto your ass.
He was tall before but now he towered over your, hand outstretched to help you up. You offered a thank you before taking it.
Clawed fingers tightened around your palm. Not letting you pull away. “You’re new to hell, right?”
A glance around, no one else in the hallway, “Is it obvious?”
“Yes. But also, you mentioned work this week.”
A nod, “It’s been maybe a day.”
Delicious.
“Could I offer you some advice?” He leaned down, hand tightening further. Wide eyed and a little frightened with the change in atmosphere, you just nodded again. “It’s very dangerous out there for little prey animals like yourself.”
“Aren’t you also a prey animal?”
His hand uncurled.
A moment of tension, Alastor leaning down further.
A strange sound was coming from his microphone, the best approximation you had was a car radio going haywire skipping through the channels.
“Room 243!” His body popped up and he held the key out for you. The hallway lights seemed to be glowing brighter now.
You grabbed the key, “Thank you!”
Two fourty three was just past him. A small tremble kept you from getting the key in on your first and even second try. 
You didn’t even stop to turn on the light, just pushing the door closed behind you as soon as your body was through the threshold.
The relief barely left with a sigh when you heard it, “You know…”
Frozen, your eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see the shining of his red and pink eyes in front of you.
“I’m somewhat of a deal maker. For a small price, I could help you. Perhaps, you’d like a change of appearance?” His voice seemed to be coming from the walls, above and beside you all at once.
Something lifted a floppy ear. But his eyes were too far from you for it to have been his own hands. A small scream as you smacked at the appendage.
“What do you say? I can use a little magic to make you happier with your new form.” A dark whisper into your right ear. 
Your hands flew to your head before you dropped to your knees to escape the hidden things touching you. 
“What do you want?” To your left now. “Let’s make a trade. A deal.” Above your head. 
His eyes were gone. Just darkness and a soft laugh echoing around you.
Your mind was reeling through possible answers, what did you want? At that moment? In general? 
An answer tumbled out, too quietly.
“Hmm?” His eyes reappeared closer to you and glowing a bloody red. “Speak up, my ears are quite a bit higher than your mouth.”
A second attempt, “Safety. I wanna be safe.” The laughter got louder, mocking you without words.
“A little tougher of an ask.” The sound of something slithering near your feet made you pull your knees tighter to your chest. “But! I’m here to please. In exchange for protection from the more nefarious of hell’s citizens I’ll need something worth my while.”
Of course, that is how deals work, right? A promise with compensation. 
“I don’t have any money, or possessions yet. Maybe I should try again later?” You were lost in the light of his stare and found the darkness deepening around him.
A considered hum, “Well, you’re already dead. You’ve no need for your soul. Damned as it is, give it to me instead. To keep safe. And I’ll always answer your calls for rescue when in harm's way.”
Why would…what use was a soul, you wondered. Was he right? But if he wanted it, surely it had value. You were too new to this world, scared to say yes and part with what little you had. 
At the risk of angering the demon in the darkness of your room, you whispered to yourself and hoped he would hear it, “I think I shouldn’t.”
Hissing in your ear, “Disappointing.”
The lights flickered on, an empty room. A bed. A nightstand. A closet. A bathroom. No tall smiling dealmaker.
A tremor stayed in your hands through the night. 
To your surprise, when you ran into Alastor the next day he was more than kind. He was eavesdropping when you asked Charlie if the hotel needed any staff. Not only did you want to be of use, you were hoping to earn some money. He quickly slid beside Charlie suggesting things you could do. 
Wow, you thought. He didn’t hold a grudge at all. Maybe he had been trying to help before? 
It took a few weeks, but you found a groove. You were a floater between the staff, helping Husk with the restocking of his bar, following behind Niffty with supplies her tiny arms couldn’t carry, and keeping notes for the activities Charlie held. It was vital for you to feel needed and everyone seemed happy to have you around. Hell wasn’t so bad.
“Dear,” Alastor found you holding a basket of towels in the hallway on a rather standard weekday, “I need an errand runner. Do you mind?”
You had been finding Alastor’s presence enjoyable, a little secret you held. He was always smiling, which made you smile in turn. And his manners, well, perfect. You couldn’t understand why such a sweet man was in hell, but then you considered you were also in hell. Mistakes happen, perhaps he was also damned by technicalities. 
Not that you would ask him, you barely spoke a word to the deer demon. Every time he was around you your throat would close up. Oftentimes you would pull your hands behind your back to shield the wiggle of your too-honest tail. 
When he would speak to you, you would get so focused on the sound of his voice and watching his mouth move you’d actually not hear a damn thing he said. You must have looked like an absolute airhead, always replying, “What?” every time he finished a statement. 
“Hellooo, anyone home in there?” He knocked gently on your skull. Ah, those big hands again. He watched the pink bloom across your cheeks, your hands coming to your ears to pull them down as your mind wandered off.  A snap of his fingers finally brought you back.
“Sorry, what?” Your eyes were bright as you finally made the journey all the way up to his face.
“Welcome back. I need some stuff picked up from a shop downtown. I can’t leave right now, mind hopping over for me?” The grin he offered you made you melt.
“Of course!” That damn tail shaking behind you, “What am I picking up?”
He waved his hand, “Not important, it’ll be all wrapped up and waiting.” The radio effect of his voice grew, “I’ll write down the address.”
Terrible handwriting. You could barely read it, but didn’t want to insult him so you just nodded as he followed you to the doors. Pausing, you realized it was your first time leaving the hotel alone. 
“What’s wrong? Not up to it?”
You shook your head, “No! I can do it. Thank you.”
A pounding in your chest made you question if you were actually dead. But despite your concerns, no one bothered you beyond some catcalling and intense glares. Staring at the paper, you struggled to decipher the address. Was that a 7 or a 1? A 4 or a 9…? You were in the general area, the street name lined up and the first couple numbers of the address too.
You brought the paper closer to your face, maybe if you really inspected it you could figure it out. 
A shriek, dropping the paper to felt a small goblin-like creature pushing at your knees. Another, then another, began to appear from the shadows of the street. Black and white little creatures pushing and pulling at your legs until you tumbled over.
“Help!” You thought it was a shout, but it came out as a soft spoken request, the tone itself adding a ‘please’ to the end. 
They weren’t hurting you, just knocking you over every time you tried to stand up like grade school bullies. You managed, the creatures relenting momentarily before a stockier one materialized. A step back, what did they want? Money? You pulled out your wallet and opened it but the large one smacked it to the ground. 
That quick heart skipped a beat when your back hit against something solid. As your head bent backwards, you could see those red and pink eyes looming over you. 
“Oh dear. Trouble already?” 
You could cry. You did cry, a little, at the sight of a familiar face. With a flourish of his hands, those previously unseen tendrils whipped from his back and flung the aimless attackers away. 
Rescue! You hugged his waist, a chorus of ‘thank yous’ and ‘Oh, Alastor!’ into his chest. 
“Now now, can’t even be a proper task rabbit. You really do need some safeguarding.” He peeled you off him, brushing his coat off. Your mind thought back to the offer. “And I don’t see my purchase… didn’t complete the task either?”
You shrunk, you’d entirely failed him. His smirk was one sided, eyes half lidded and expression dramatically disappointed. Alastor sighed and turned to walk away from you. You’d let him down. He’d been nothing but accommodating and gentle.
“I’m sorry! Alastor!” You grabbed his wrist, eyes shut so you didn’t see the green glow of arcane symbols floating up around him. “Can I please have that deal? Please. I’m sorry, you have my soul as payment.”
Painless, selling your soul. With a handshake, a little light show, and a whirling of magic, you had done it.
“Excellent choice!” Alastor patted your head, “I’ll come to your aid when you’re scared for your life! Aaaand in return, your soul is mine. Easy peasy, yes?”
Fine, not an issue in the slightest. “Do I need to do anything?”
“About what?” His eyes wandered to inspect his fingernails.
“My soul.”
A barking laugh, “No. You’re tied to me now, dear. As for my end, just call my name when you’re in danger and I’ll,” a flourish of his talons, “rescue you.” His smile strained as he peered down at your little face, “Why are you crying?”
“I’m so happy to have the help, thank you Alastor! You really are just, amazing. Your mother raised you right.” Your hands were holding your cheeks, grateful and feeling a little less alone.
The mention of his mother made his back straighten, a bloom in his chest he knew all too well to be pride. Finally, someone was vocalizing his better qualities. Well, other than Charlie. But impressing Charlie was like making a dog think you’d thrown a ball. Just a little quick whirl of your hands and a couple sweet words with a smile and she’d be all wagging tail as she ran to retrieve nothing. 
But he supposed you were very much like Charlie, easily tricked and distracted. Had you really not noticed those goons were his? Or that the address wasn’t real? Were you stupid or naive? His head fell to the side unnaturally as he watched you talk. He wasn’t listening, though. He took in your features, slight but average. His hand came out absentmindedly and felt at one of your long and limp ears. He didn’t see you blush or caught how you stiffened. 
Naive. Terribly naive.
Perfectly usable. 
He dropped your ear and turned to leave. “I won’t rescue you twice in one day. Best to follow me home if you value your life.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
You hadn’t told anyone about the deal, a secret for yourself to keep. Partly because you were embarrassed you needed the help, and partly because you had been warned extensively to not make a deal with the deer demon. Everyone had such a peculiar idea of Alastor, it seemed to you. Even after making a deal, he was still…Alastor. Always offering a joke, or playing something jaunty in the shared spaces. You could vent and whine and Alastor would hum as he read. Always offering a gentle pat to the head when you were sad or did something he liked. 
So when Alastor suddenly left the group in a sweat, hands shaking and body rocking slightly side to side, you were quick to follow behind him. He bumped off the walls a couple of times before making it to his room and falling forward past the threshold. 
You waited for the door to close before running down the hall and knocking. 
“Are you alright?” You pressed your cheek against the wood and listened for any reply. 
Alastor was still on the floor when you knocked, which worked out well. He leaned against the door, ears flat with his condition. He took a deep breath, voice dropping an octave and carrying easily to you, “Just— an out of season rut. Unexpected and unwelcome. Without any does nearby it’s quite odd.”
“Oh, are deer not like rabbits? Rabbit does are always in estrus! Mating actually triggers their ovulation. Neat, huh?” Silence, Alastor’s ears turned forward focusing on every other word.
Does, always, oestrus
Mating, triggers, ovulation 
“I had pet rabbits when I was little. Isn’t that funny though? That they’re also called does.” You worried he thought you were weirdly interested in rabbit sex. “We had them as pets. So….,” a silence you misinterpreted as awkward.
Alastor tapped a long claw on the door before dragging it down the wood. A line was etched behind, “Is that so?”
You knelt down to get comfortable, “How long will it last?”
“Ah, hard to say. I've only suffered through a few. Alone, perhaps a week.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“With an appropriate partner, a deer demon would rut for two days. One for mating with his doe, one for guarding his doe from rivals who could still interfere with conception.”
His doe. You both found your throat running dry at the words. 
You nodded, “Oh wow, I guess that’s why you always see bucks locked together in fights.”
“Precisely.”
“But...can sinners actually conceive?” You gulped, the idea was a little naughty to you. The entire conversation was actually making you uncomfortable. The kind of discomfort that made your breath pick up. The kind of discomfort that shifted to hunger with just a few words or a well placed look.
“No, but that doesn’t matter. Once fully in the hold of a rut or heat, demons aren’t motivated by logic.”
You nodded again, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Oh okay…” the idea of Alastor rutting into his own hand desperate to fill a womb made your knees come together. “Must be hard for you. As an asexual.”
A hum, confusion breaking his creeping fog for a second, “A sexual what?”
“Nevermind.” You shook your head, shaking off the topic with the motion.
Alastor could smell your arousal wafting under the door. A feverish chill ran through him, drawing the fog back into the recesses of his mind.
“Well… I’ll let you rest. I know you can’t call me, so I’ll stop by to see if you need anything.”
His mouth opened to correct you— he could call you in a sense, and he didn’t need help as he had minions he could summon with a snap. 
“That sounds lovely, what a helpful thing you are.” The words came out strained, his jaw tensing. How much longer could he hold out? The thinnest lie held in place that he’d suffer alone through the week. Already compromised by his errant shadow, flat against the carpet beneath your thighs. 
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Within hours Alastor was lying on the floor with his limbs splayed out. The sweating was the worst, not the heat. He could feel ticklish drops dripping down his stomach. His hair was sticking to his face, adding to the mounting overstimulation. Wet, hot, clothes clinging to his body like a second skin. A clawed hand pulled off his bow tie. His fingers shook too much to handle the tiny buttons of his shirt so he gave up and ripped it open. 
It fell into a pile with the bow tie and soon his pants and socks joined. Sitting up on his elbows he looked down at his underwear, he wasn’t hard yet but he knew the smallest touch could trigger what could be days of painfully swollen erections.
He fell back to the floor with a huff, hands raking through his hair and gripping his ears a little rougher than he’d meant to. A gasp, red tipped talons feeling down his ears and slipping around his already growing antlers.
Alastor’s eyes rolled back, strong hands squeezing his prongs, tugging them forward as he imagined anyone riding him. Using his appendages as a handle while he bucked up into them. His hips were already moving, lower back rising off the carpet as he rolled his body up into the imaginary mate he despised his desperation for. His mind flicked through faces. Husk’s pained but satisfied expression, Vox’s tears as he whined, Carmilla’s lusty eyes paired with surrendered sighs. He lingered briefly on Angel’s smirk as his hands roamed down his chest and his thighs in tandem. 
But through the darkness of his imagination he saw two watery and timid orbs, tears welling as eyebrows rose in confusion. Pleasure making the features soften. Soft. Soft velvet ears he could tug on in turn, a little bushy tail he could grip. 
A doe. 
The only doe he knew of in the hotel. 
The radio on the writing desk flipped through channels, piecing together the sounds to form the words he was trying to forget, a magazine ransom note cut from sound bites.
....out the windows
 ....always and forever, 
....in yesterday. 
....rusty cage 
May you never....
Hating how I....
....pull the trigger
....say you love me?
....congratulations 
The relevant sounds spiked in volume, mocking him. 
He walked to the radio and hurled it across the room. Aggression. Already he was losing himself to hellish biology. 
A minor part of him didn’t want to use you. You always looked at him with such adoration, which he’d come to look forward to when others weren’t giving him adequate attention. You also seemed to genuinely see him as a friend, as much as he didn’t directly feed that idea.
But using people was how the world worked. Everyone was using someone. You had said how much you wanted to help… Alastor leaned on the desk with both hands and watched the sweat fall onto the wood and leather writing surface.
How was his body leaking from every pore but his mouth was so dry?
His shadow reached for the thrown radio, the light flickering on. That dark doppelgänger using a song to offer another piece of torment for him, ‘you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine.’
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
You had been speaking to Husk about what you could do to help prepare the bar for the weekend when a green light began to form around your neck. 
“Did you— Did you make a deal with him?!” Husk dropped the dish rag, hands shooting to your shoulders, “Hold on! I’ll— fucking hell. Fuck!”
“Wait what’s wro-,” you were standing inside an unfamiliar room, just at the door, before you could figure out why Husk was panicking. Looking up, you locked eyes with Alastor. The room was dark, curtains drawn shut and ceiling lights off. A slight glow from a roaring blue fire to your left. His eyes were those familiar glowing red orbs in the darkness of his large canopy bed. “Oh, Alastor.” You finally noticed the third light source. A neon green large linked chain was wrapped around his fist. Following the squared interlocking pieces down the length of the bed, across the carpet and up as you looked down to find it ending on you.
Your hands touched your neck, feeling the cold metal of your collar. 
Alastor took a deep breath in, a shaky exhale following.
Oh. You’d heard from Angel how his deal with his boss often materialized as a series of smoke rings linked and attached to him. 
Before you could question it any further you were sliding across the floor, hands and feet struggling to find purchase as he reeled you toward the bed. Alastor lifted you by the glowing chain around your neck, evidence of the deal you so easily accepted.
“Can a deer breed a rabbit?” He mused, breath ragged as he struggled to remain in control of his impulses, “Doubtful. But I’ll give it my sincerest efforts, regardless.”
“Alastor-! You don’t want to do this, it’s just your rut.” You pulled back, legs kicking and piling up the blankets. It was fruitless. 
He laughed, incorporeal radio studio audience joining along. You couldn’t stop from glancing at the straining fabric of his black boxers. Setting a small hand on his chest to better attempt to push away you gasped, “You’re burning up!” The fear of the moment left you entirely, replaced with deep concern. 
He gripped your wrist with his free hand, not letting go of the chain in his right, “The fever is unbearable. My mind is slipping away.”
“Is this normal?!” Your hands came to his cheeks, his forehead, his neck. You remembered how your grandmother always checked your temperature, and pressed your lips to his sweat slicked brow. “You poor thing…”
When you pulled back you were met with the bright and blown out pupils of Alastor’s gaze. He was staring at your mouth, the green of his magical connection to you reflecting off his glossy eyes.
“Poor me.” He’d been sitting with loosely crossed legs but got on his knees. His face rose until he was looking down at you, hand now holding your chin, “You promised to help me.”
Your eyes were looking everywhere but his face. 
His hand on you tightened, cheeks squished together as he pulled your head up, “Are you a liar?” Of course not. His hand made your head shake left to right.
The trembling of your hands was obvious to you both. A cruel laugh, “Do I scare you, little bunny rabbit?”
In life you weren’t popular. No one hated you, but, well, you never had much luck attracting the men all the women seemed to want. No one of power or consequence ever paid you any mind.
Alastor was scary. But were you scared? Someone strong wanted you. Someone people feared was saying you were good enough for them.
Tears welled in your eyes as you felt your tail wiggling side to side. Your body always betrayed you. Your own death had been the doing of your body’s inability to listen to you. 
He couldn’t see the tail but the way your face screwed up in shame tipped him off. Letting go of your face, super heated finger pads slipped down your back. He slotted your tail between two fingers. There was no reason for it to be such an intimate action, but your entire body trembled.
Another deep sigh from Alastor, closing his fingers around the base and pulling gently. A test. Your head dropped to hide your reaction.
“Ah ah, eyes on me.”
He hummed happily as you did as you were told.
But the moment was cut short, you jumping when a rough knock came to the door.
“Alastor!” Vaggie was turning the knob despite knowing it was locked, “Is she in there? Open the fucking door.” A kick, a threat, “Now.”
“I’ll need your answer.” He leaned back onto the pillows piled behind him. Making a point, he lifted your chain and dropped it. It dissolved into nothingness before it could hit the bed.
“I’m here!” You said barely loud enough to be heard through the wooden door. Your eyes were drawn to Alastor’s lap as he pushed down his underwear to free his deep red cock.
His hand tenderly touched his base, hissing with the contact.
“For fuck’s sake Alastor!” Vaggie yelled, “You have three seconds to open this fucking door before I rip it off the hinges.”
Alastor’s head fell back with a moan, stifled as he bit down on his lip. 
“One!”
As his fingers slid up his length and touched his leaking slit his entire body violently shook.
“Two!”
He opened his eyes just barely. You hadn’t noticed the antlers on his head were quite a few times larger than normal. 
“I’m okay!” You shouted, the loudest noise you’d made since your death, but not the loudest you’d make by the end of the day.
Silence.
Mumbling.
 Vaggie spoke up again, “Are you sure? Come out and talk to us first.”
His hand began stroking himself, precum spilling down. Something soft and fuzzy was settling over the front of your brain.
You scooted backwards off the bed, eyes staying on his lap. The light color of his inner thighs. The little bit of red and black tail you could see squished down under his ass.
“Hello!” You opened the door just enough to shove your head through. “Hi there gang.”
Husk’s arms were crossed and his foot tapping, “Are you really okay? No matter the deal he can’t fucking make you stay in there with him.”
While you weren’t sure that was actually true, it wasn’t an issue, “I wanna stay! He needs someone to watch his fever and-,”
A brief rush of cool air up your shirt before a hot mouth was pressing into the small of your back.
Vaggie’s eyes narrows, “and?”
“And! And. Yes.” Your eyes shut, “and take care of cleaning up after him.”
They shared a glance, “He can just make his little creatures do it.”
A surprisingly long tongue ran up your spine.
“Oh my god.”
“What?”
“Oh my god! No! I couldn’t let my friend,” you sucked your bottom lip in as his hands wrapped around your waist and undid the button of your pants, “rely on strangers.”
Husk sighed, “Alright, just… like, call us or something? If you need anything.”
You began to nod but the door was shut and locked by Alastor before you could reply.
₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊
Your face hit the wall as you lost balance when he pulled down your pants and panties with one yank and buried his face into your crotch. His tongue licked at the wetness pooled at your entrance.
Any moans would probably still have been heard by the other two so you tried to keep quiet. Alastor didn’t seem to care though, growling into your skin.
The fever seemed it would spread skin to skin, but when he pulled away you found your body quickly cooling. Taking a moment to breath before turning back, you wondered if you’d made a great decision or a terrible one. When you turned, Alastor was settling back into his previous spot. “I could rip the rest off of you or you could undress yourself.” He wasn’t looking at you as he said it. You made quick work of removing your shirt and returning to the bed as you had before.
"Turn around."
You turned to face the door.
"On your hands and knees."
You paused briefly, but did so.
As you bent over, little tail high and trembling, Alastor’s clawed thumbs spread open your bottom lips. Perhaps it was embarrassment or just the nerves but you were twitching open and close.
You heard a low “Fuck” before the feeling of heat dripping onto you made you jerk forward. One of his hands came to your shoulder to hold you in place, the other kept your hole open as his seed continued to dribble down onto it.
He hadn’t been trying to cum, but his body was already responding to the opportunity before it; a breedable and submissive doe.  His cock trigger-happy at the sight of your pussy, inside pink and clenching.
A tiny yelp as he fell over you, joining you in an all fours position but larger body caging yours between his limbs. He laughed again when the back of your head hit him square in the chest. 
“You are uselessly small.” His body rumbled over you. “Clever girl to make a deal for protection.” 
A burning stiffness slid down your folds. You could feel from even how little contact he made he was too big. Was it a bad time to tell him you’d only had the one partner on earth? A rather boring but sufficient sex life. If Alastor was hoping for a sex kitten he’d be deeply disappointed in you.
He hummed imagining dropping his weight and feeling you fruitlessly squirm under him. 
“Mating triggers ovulation, I recall you said. I just need to fuck you into it, right sweetheart? Maybe if I do a good enough job,” his hands gripped the flesh of your ass, “your body will actually respond. Your belly will swell with the evidence of my virility.” Both hands slipped down your hips and came to nestle above your womb, tenderly caressing the protective layer of fat there, “could your little form handle it?” Little form? Not quite. But to him everyone was little. Claws leaving faint red marks as he dragged them up your ribs, around your sides and pressed your back down to get your chest into the bed and ass in the air.
A squeak, your legs flailing with what little motion they had as you turned your head, “Well that’s for actual rabbits not--.”
His hand came over your mouth, “Shhh, there's safety in the quiet. Don’t you know? We’re most vulnerable when we mate.” On the utterance of the word you’d been avoiding to even think about Alastor’s still hard cock squeezed its way into you. Your body was willing, but your pussy wasn’t ready to accommodate him. Not that your living partner had been small, but he wasn’t a seven foot tall rutting deer demon. And with height came a girth and length you’d not anticipated. You had seen it, yes, but that didn’t translate to much once Alastor was entering you.
His hips were snapping back as soon as he sank in. It frustrated him endlessly that he wasn’t trying to fuck you with such a lack of control. He couldn’t have been sure he’d have done it any differently had the circumstances been changed, but he liked to think he’d  retained some skills over the long years alone.
The way he whined made him sound like a weak man, which he was in that moment. You wanted to call out his name, do the things you were used to doing during sex, but his hand was still over your mouth.
As if he heard your thoughts, his fingers spread open over your lips. Pinky under your chin to keep his hold on you. 
“Alastor,” the tenor of your voice surprised you.
“Stick out your tongue.” He sounded far away, despite being right behind you. When you did as he instructed his hand shifted. Two long fingers went into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. Immediately his fingers and your chin was dripping with drool. He whined again, louder, the noise growing into a growl as his speed began to pick up. 
You could feel the thin flesh at the bottom of your entrance stinging as it was failing to stretch enough for him. It would have bothered you more but the way his burningly hot cock's head was pressing into your cervix was making your eyes lose focus. 
Without ceremony, you felt a rush of heat deep in you. Your shins lifted from the bed as you squirmed, weak attempts to escape the deep press.
His hand left your mouth and you felt it working on the base of his cock that was not yet in you. He mumbled something, it sounded like an apology, before you felt him pop the rest of himself in. You choked on your scream, not knowing what he had put in you. 
It throbbed, new and stronger spurts of his seed felt against an indescribable place. 
A brave hand reached between your thighs and felt at the space between your bodies—- well, would have felt at that space. But there was none. You were flush against his lap. Your fingers slid down to feel taut balls pulled up into his body. 
He shivered as you traced between them, checking neither were …  inside you. 
“I should have warned you, but my ability to speak wasn’t—,” he waved his hand around, “available.” You tried to pull away but found you both were locked together. “A knot. Not an accurate representation of a deer… and technically useless.”
That word meant nothing to you. “Is it normal?”
His thumb pressed at the virgin tight ring of muscle just above your pussy, you instinctively jerked away but just made yourself gasp as that large knot in you threatened to further tear you if you kept it up. “I don’t normally do it so early in a mated rut.”
You surrendered, trying to relax your upper body into the bed. “How do we get it out?”
A mocking chuckle, “It’ll deflate, so to speak, in a couple minutes. It’s just keeping my little doe in place while I finish filling her up.” He patted your ass. 
It was mortifying to be suck in that position.
“Have you ever used this hole?” He rubbed some of your wetness up to your asshole. 
 Your tail lifted, “My boyfriend didn’t like anal.”
Alastor massaged around the puckered ring, “I didn’t ask if he used his.” Your head turned to look at him, shaking it ‘no’. You noticed his face looked less strained now, and that his finger didn’t feel like a fire was just under his skin. “Ah, well. I won’t need it today anyway.”
He didn’t see the bright blush that came over your face. He spoke so easily about the topic, a topic you’d never heard him speak on before. One you’d been told he had no interest in.
An error you made, assuming a lack of interest meant a lack of knowledge or experience. 
When he finally could pull himself out of you, you felt a rush of warmth down your inner thighs. Looking under you, past your chest and between your legs, you saw the thick white semen escaping from your stretched entrance. 
You’d never seen such an opaque release before. You wondered if it was a hint at his…potency. You wondered more what was happening in your body at that moment. 
“Will it come out on its own or do I need to clean it?” Finally sitting up, your fingers felt the mess still dripping out of you. 
Alastor leaned back onto his legs, ears turning in your direction as you asked, “Is this your first time? Your little boyfriend never finished in you?”
Crossing your arms, you turned to him, “Don’t be patronizing to him. And no, okay?”
He felt the heat rising from his gut again, cock twitching at every bit of the scene before him. Insolent body language, an attempt to scold him, and an admission. You watched him sit back up, a sudden reminder how much taller he was as darkened eyes looked down on you. The blue of the fire cast half of his face in shadows. “What’s this? My obedient doe wants to defend another man in my bed?” 
Your hands nervously came to the ends of your ears, “I didn’t mean it like that.” A finger twirled, telling you to turn around. You hesitated. Did he want you to leave? He didn’t want to look at you? You hadn’t—, “I’m sorry.” 
With a blink, his eyes were black.  His fingers longer as parts of him seems to stretch between the joints. He twirled them again as his smile grew wicked.
Desperate to show him you hadn’t wanted to upset him, that you wanted to stay, you turned around. The fear of not knowing what he would do next was sending waves of electricity to your lap. You realized you hadn’t touched yourself yet, not that this was the time to start. 
One by one, those freakishly long fingers curled around the small of your waist and lifted you off the bed. The tops of your feet were sliding across the dark maroon blankets beneath you both.
Your heart was pounding in your ears as he pulled you against him. He positioned you above his renewed erection, your legs opening a little in instinct. 
Grateful now to be turned around, you let your face run the full range of feelings as they washed over you. Fear, arousal, anticipation.
“What a wasteful man.” He brought you down with a painfully slow speed, head just now meeting your sticky wet hole. “He never flooded your soft cunt?” He pressed in a little easier this time, but as you sank to take him all in you felt a sting where you’d slightly torn earlier. “When he dies, I’ll be sure to find him.” Cruel. “And make him watch me breed you.” You clenched, yet another betrayal by your body. 
You were reduced to gasps as he stayed stock still and moved you on and off his cock. “Am I bigger than he is?” You could feel his breath against your back as you were lifted and brought back down again slowly. 
You nodded. A terrible liar, you didn’t even try to fib.
He stopped with his head barely in you.
A squirm.
“I’m sure I just didn’t hear you. Try again.”
“Yes.” You were full again as he got his answer. A creaking sound you didn’t recognize startled you.
“Do I fuck you better than him?”
Ah you understood. Your hands held at his fingers digging into your body. “Yes.” Another creaking sound as he quickened your rise and fall.
Alastor’s antlers were wide and multi-pronged as your affirmations jostled around behind his eyes. Your ‘yes’ somehow made you tighter, wetter, hotter around him. His hips started moving again to meet yours. Perhaps he his dick grown a little during his shift to a more demonic form, or maybe you enjoyed the line of questions. All he knew was you were squeezing him like your body didn’t want him to ever pull out again.
Blood dripped from his lips as he cut his own skin, through gritted teeth a final question, “Do you want my fawns?”
Your legs pressed together, you knew there was only one answer and yet you asked yourself. Did you want that? To carry his children? A moan cut through your thinking, “Yes!”
The fire roared, a response to his own reaction.
Alastor felt his mind slip under again, noticing the wild way his shadow was dancing around the walls before his senses all dulled except touch.
The bed drifted away from under his knees and the walls melted like spent candles. Just sounds echoing off space as your moans deepened. As if learning, you began to whisper ‘yes’ to yourself as you felt a building pressure in your stomach. 
Every thrust into you further separated your brain from your body. Your eyes lost focus as you watched the door bounce. No, wait, you were bouncing, right? Bouncing up and down the stiff rail of Alastor’s arousal. Your head fell forward, gasping as you felt him harden further while buried deep in you. He was going to cum again, you could feel it, you would feel it. The thought made your body shake as a pressure grew steadily in you. 
Not a new sensation, but a different one. 
“Louder,” another thinly veiled demand from Alastor that seemed to come from somewhere else entirely. Your eyes noticed a small light on the floor near the wall. A radio, buzzing with the same crackle as his voice.
“Yes,” you ground out, his hands were slippery with sweat as his nails dug in to ensure he didn’t lose his grip on you. “Yes, yes, yes.” He brought you down entirely and only let you off a little, an unspoken fear he would release too close to your entrance and he’d lose precious seed he needed your body to receive. “Yes! Alastor!” You weren’t sure who was talking now, as it surely couldn’t be you. You’d never —
“You’re better than him. You’re bigger and stronger and and he never —- he could never…”
He was suddenly regretting the position, unable to watch you fall apart as he so lovingly spread you open. 
With a shriek, your back crashed into his chest as Alastor fell backward into his pillows. He didn’t miss a beat. He continued fucking up into you but let one hand reach your clit. When you whined, he breathed into your hair, “I need you to orgasm.” Other hand pressing down on your womb, “Many cultures believed a woman couldn’t get pregnant without finding her release first. Surely it’ll take. Cum for me my doe.”
You shook your head, “Alastor that isn’t possible.” Not that you were arguing against the way his finger was rubbing up and down on your swollen clit, you just felt the need to remind him of the obvious. Your eyes wandered up and back to see the hauntingly wide antlers now. His transformed face barely visible in the shadows.
“I thought you were a good girl.” His mouth kissed at the base of your ears, hand over your womb pressing in and exaggerating the feeling of his cock bulging from under your skin. “Darling,” he groaned, “Are you ready for my knot?”
You moaned at the words. No, of course not. 
“Yes,” you got quiet, embarrassed again. Your hand snaked up and behind to hold his shoulder for stability. 
“Relax,” he hissed, feeling your body tensing in anticipation.
You tried your best, but between his strumming finger and the sting still at your entrance you struggled to let things go limp.
This time you felt it growing beneath you. Alastor was ready as well, pushing it in before it was swollen so large he’d have to force it or just suffer with it outside.
Lubricated with the multiple loads already fucked into and then out of you, the knot pushed past your entrance with ease. But then you felt it expanding in you. Eyes crossing as they rolled back with the foreign sensation. It didn’t hurt, but a little alarm was going off in the back of your brain. How could something natural feel so unnatural? And how—
Your body locked up, muscles from thighs to neck tight. Alastor’s finger hadn’t stopped, and as the second knotted release flooded you with his feverish need, as his knot trapped every drop and forced it up past your cervix you tripped into your first orgasm. Different from your own hand and toys, the build up hadn’t been a slow ratcheting climb. No, you were rolling through waves of nearly pained pleasure. The spasming forced your body to feel him even more, pulling him deeper, triggering another wave to crash into you.
Alastor wanted to praise you, a rush of hormones and ego expanding his chest but the sensations had him so overwhelmed he was manually breathing. His hand didn’t want to stop, because then the way your pussy was positively sucking him in would also end. But your little cries and moans got increasingly choked and strained.
The calm briefly offered by knotting a mate during his rut came to your rescue, Alastor dragging a still barely moving finger up your body and going slack into the pillows.
Deep breaths, both of you fighting to slow them down. Alastor was experiencing another moment of clarity, only slightly upset he had doled out so much tenderness.
But for you, there was no deep fog of a heat to numb the sensations and let the more bothersome bits of consciousness turn off. Your mind was just as clear as normal. A little lusty, but nowhere near Alastor’s altered state. As you laid against his chest, waiting for him to be able to pull out, you could feel the pains and aches setting in.
Alastor summoned a minion, food set down on his desk under a silver cloche. Your eyes caught the black and white creature before it was whisked away.
Sitting up, you flinched but fought against the pain, “Alastor. What was that?”
His hands pulled you back down by the shoulders, skin on skin, “My minion. One of many.” 
 Exhausted, you could only sigh, “So, the errand.”
His hands went up defensively, “Oh come now, did you really think I was the good guy?” You didn’t reply. The silence began to bother him. Odd, given he usually didn’t give a fuck.
But he’d asked a lot of you, and you agreed willingly. You did as you were told. A little twinge of concern he had actually upset you wiggled between his ribs.
His hands slipped down your waist and settled over your stomach, “…Are you hungry? If you stay like this, I can help you eat.” You took a deep breath in, but didn’t even move to look at him. He squirmed ever so slightly, “I can only assume you’re… quite sore. Perhaps a bath? But I can’t guarantee we’ll make it out much cleaner than we are now.” His smile was smaller, just lips; no teeth. As his antlers withdrew and his limbs all returned to their proper places he could turn his head enough to look at your face.
Alastor felt relief wash over him to see you deeply asleep in his arms. It wasn’t a bad idea, to sleep before the next spell hit him and he was too far gone to think about baths or meals.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Alastor awoke in the dark. He found his hands and ankles tied behind his back, his body naked and sweating. He was on fire, pieces of himself lifting in the hot breeze and blowing away. He could feel his body fragmenting. You were just a little ways away and he tried desperately to reach out to you but as his eyes adjusted you were suddenly too far. If he could just get you to take a single piece of him, a shard of himself, he would live still. Even when the rest of him was dead and gone, he’d be alive in your hands. A raging stress, the fire now reaching his bones. It wasn’t too late. He still had time. Just a sliver of his existence was all he needed to get to you.
When you woke up, your body was at the foot of the bed. Looking over you saw Alastor lazily stroking his painfully hard erection. His gaze downcast, vision cloudy with unmet needs.
“Alastor?” With shaky arms you lifted yourself. You were hot. Was it the fire? No, before it had no heat. A little damp outline into the comforter formed where your body had been. 
“You’re awake.” He reached over and grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards him and rolling you onto your back. Hand still around your ankle, he pulled your leg against his chest.
“Alastor.”
He sunk into you without hesitation, hips rolling into you roughly. Your body was rocking against the bed, wood creaking against wood with the steady force of his thrusts.
It felt good. Better than before, your walls felt soft and puffy around him. Alastor’s head was low, groaning every time he bottomed out. You could see just enough past him to watch the bed canopy swaying above you both before he folded you in half and leaned fully over you.
His eyes were unfocused like his mind, staring into the bed. A large palm at either side of your head, his back curved as he angled his hips to reach deeper yet.
“I’m so hot.” You were struggling to get the words out. It felt so good, the deeper in you he reached the more you seemed to be melting away.
Your hips were lifted off the mattress, held up entirely by his cock as he continued to rut into you. He could feel the fever in you rising. 
Bent and tangled together, his head was nearly above yours. He was sweating, hair stuck down and ears folded back. A bead fell from his cheek and hit your forehead. He was working so hard. Such a strong man. A strong buck. 
Something in you snapped. Something twisted and burned in your belly. You brought the other leg up to let yourself be folded in half completely, and his eyes wandered to your face. Your frontal cortex was just static as the lights were shutting off in most parts of your more human faculties. 
Everything got quiet in you, a deep seated feeling of security creeping up your legs and sinking into your bones. With Alastor in you, nothing bad could happen to you. If you were carrying his offspring you’d be guaranteed a new level of protection. You needed it. You wouldn’t survive if you weren’t fucked and bred by the overlord. 
How could your body be wrong when the feeling was so natural? So intensely confident?
“Alastor!” Your nails dug into biceps, hands clamoring up his arms to cling onto him, “breed me, please.” 
He was caught alight, mind on ablaze with his raging fever. Your plea was a magnifying glass concentrating the sun into him and sparking a wildlife. Alastor was defenseless against the way your words affected him. 
He could feel it, he could smell it, your heat triggered finally. His lips caught yours as his hands slipped up the blanket with how he had to contort to reach your mouth. You moaned into him, teeth on teeth as neither of you had any ability to finesse things.
“On your knees,” he instructed. You scrambled to turn around as he briefly left your body. A desperate whine in the seconds that stretched on, the emptiness unbearable. It hurt to have him anywhere but balls deep in you.
His hands slipped around your tail that still tried to swish side to side. When he tugged you gasped, the closest sensation you had was having your hair pulled. Chills ran up your spine. You nearly fell forward, but a strong hand wrapped around your neck and pulled your head back. He lined up, adjusting his legs wider to get down to your level.
“Are you feeling it?” He nipped at your shoulder, “Your heat?”
You pushed your ass back and pressed his tip into you. The sound that tore through your chest was answer enough for him as you tried your best to move along his length all on your own.
“You’re okay,” he squeezed lightly around your neck, pussy twitching around him as lightning snapped through you. “I’ll take care of you.”
Words that made your head spin. His body on yours felt like security. Everywhere his skin touched yours was a gulp of cold water in a drought.
A cliche, as he began to move again and his cock hit your g-spot every couple thrusts, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. His fever was matched to yours, no heat exchanged as warm and wet flesh moved around warm and wet flesh. Was that your hand or his on your stomach? Both were searing, both soft and slick. One of your hands was reaching down to hold his arm for support.
Eyes slipping shut, you imagined this was what being high felt like. You were out of your body entirely, feeling his dick slipping in and out of you from a different plane of existence. There was a sense your mouth was moving but no awareness of what you were saying. Truly just babbling as Alastor’s speed hitched. A clawed hand on your hip cut into you as he pressed deeper with every thrust.
He guided you down onto your stomach, hand now resting on your right shoulder to keep you in place. You were entirely flat, his knees parting your legs so he could get flush against your core. 
His knot was in place as he began to swell. You felt it again, him flooding your womb as he released directly into your twitching cervix. A euphoria filled you so totally you were sure you could feel the cells of your body humming.
Like a cool breeze had blown down, your fevers broke nearly immediately.
“Oh,” you squeaked, Alastor’s hand releasing you as he lied on top of you. The weight of him was oddly arousing as it gave a clear comparison of your smaller size. “I think you’re right. Estrus.”
He nodded, rolling you both onto your sides, “Would you like the good news or bad news first?”
Resting your head on his extended arm, you tried getting comfortable despite the sticky feeling of your skin and the burning in your thighs, “bad news.”
“You won’t be walking straight for days.” He said it with a heavy tone of pride.
“Oh geez…,” you could feel his knot still throbbing between your hips, “The good news?”
“Your heat is going to make me even more desperate to fill you,” his free hand ran down your sides and slipped between your legs to feel where you two were connected. 
You turned your head the best you could, “That’s not good news, Alastor!”
He laughed, “I lied. Oh well!”
While the good news had been a lie, the way your body’s shift into meeting Alastor’s instincts upped his feral responses was not.  You nibbled on fruit and bread and cured meats in the small windows the clouds around your humanity parted.
But when they’d roll back in, a tempest of feral wants crashing into you both, you’d find yourself clinging to the deer demon.
You could have had an apple in one hand and be mid bite when his musk would reach you and your grip would loosen. With just a moan and a lifting of your hips Alastor would be dragging you closer, crawling over your body, mounting you wherever you two happened to be.
It wasn’t that you’d become confident by the end of the day, but that you’d lost all semblance of shame and embarrassment.
When Alastor pulled you onto his lap and placed your hands on his peach fuzz covered antlers, you didn’t need verbal instructions. It took all of your arm span to reach them, so you held tightly as he thrust up into you. None of his noises had been as intoxicating as the ones he made when you were leaning over him and squeezing his prongs with every jostle of your womb. Perhaps he’d lost his shame too, loud and long moans the other residents had to have heard spilling from his open mouth. 
The wet slap of your ass coming back down onto his thighs as he bounced you was barely registered. Head hung low to meet his black engulfed eyes, you didn’t notice his smile was gone for the first time since you’d met him. Pinhole red pupils were locked on your face and imperceptibly roamed around your lust filled expression. 
One hand reached up and rubbed the soft skin of your downturn rabbit’s ears between his thumb and index finger. Soft. Velvet. 
A sensation that was wholly pleasant, not sexual in any nature but feeding the comfort provided by Alastor’s cock buried to the hilt. He wanted to enjoy the smile it gave you but he could feel his orgasm climbing exponentially.
There it was again, the darkness of your combined heat and rut slinking in. Body to body, your own sounds harmonizing with his and losing distinction. “Alastor–,” eyes drifting shut, “Please. I feel empty.” His previous loads dripping down your thighs, then down his own, and soaking into the carpet. “Fill me up. Please, can you breed me?”
His hand pulled down on your ear, “That was never in question.”
You let go of his extended prongs, arching your back to take a kiss. More. His tongue in your mouth, another hole full of Alastor. His hands both reunited on your ass and used the flesh there like handles. He fucked up into you, withholding the growing at his base, until he felt you cumming around him again. As your body sucked him in with rolling spasms, he pressed you down on his upthrust. A pained moan as it was pushed in a little late. 
Lightning behind your eyelids, your mouths hanging open and pressed together. 
Both of you a pile on the floor, a cold blue flame and soft music playing from the still broken radio. Uncharacteristically, Alastor’s arms wrapped around your smaller form and clung to you. The sensations were popping up one by one. Sticky skin, sweat rolling down your face, hair sticking to your neck and forehead. You’d have to peel each other apart. Which you did, eventually. When Alastor could pull out, he followed through on the bath he’d been thinking about. 
You protested, reminding him you’d be soaking the floor with displaced bath water as soon as the next urge to mate came around. But he laughed, smile back in place as if it had never left, “Sweetheart if I do my job right you won’t even realize you’re not in bed until you’re knotted and knocked up.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
He hadn’t been lying about the protective second day. But what he hadn’t anticipated was just how long that aggressive desire to keep others at a distance from you would last. While your deal had been in place for a little while before his rut, it wasn’t until after your time together in his room that it seemed to ever be used. 
But you didn’t need to call out for him, like he had said. No, anytime someone even looked at you with a nasty thought, you were graced with his presence. Most people figured it out quickly enough, but occasionally new and brave idiots would approach you with trouble. 
So when a tall and imposing creature cornered you in a shop, hand holding something sharp and shiny and asked, “Scared, little hare?", you could only smile as your face was lit up by a green glow and offer a little advice, “No, but you should be.”
deleted scene ˗ˏˋ Masterlist ˎˊ˗
˖  ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖
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sierrale8ne · 4 months ago
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okk so baby daddy paige fic when??😛
paige bueckers x fem!reader
nsfw // dom!paige, sub!reader, strap-on sex, deep penetration, cervix play, stomach bulge, praise, daddy kink, breeding kink, nasty filthy dirty talk, pure smut!
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She was demolishing you. The way her strap plunged in and out of you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly had you weak. Your legs pushed open and head tossed back onto the bed as she bended you as she saw fit. Paige had you on your side, widening your legs to get an even better look at your soaking cunt.
"Every fuckin’ inch.” She grunted. Her chest pressed unbelievably close to yours you almost couldn’t breathe. She meant it when she said every inch because your cunt was full to the hilt. All eight inches of girth stuffed into you and ramming against your g-spot so roughly it probably was bruised.
There was no reason for Paige’s sudden aggressions, besides how badly she wanted to be close to you right now. The earliest hours of the morning, made her want to be in your skin. Or so deep inside you rather.
“Feel me, ma? Deep as hell in that pussy." She cooed, thinking about all the other positions she could fold you into before morning came and she had to catch her flight. “Such a good girl. Taking my cock like the good girl you are.”
You cried in response, clawing at her hand that gripped the back of your knee, “uh huh!” You mindlessly babbled, eyes rolling until the whites of your eyes were all that she could see. “Uh! Fuck, daddy don’t stop. Don’t— don’t fuckin’ stop.”
She turned your body so you lay on your back, her hands still clawing at your legs which she pushed back until your knees nearly touched your ears. She was breaking you apart into nothing. The movement of her hips constant and in rhythm, you swore she was touching the depths of your chest each time she thrusted into you. Her cock unbelievably deep.
“She fuckin’ loves me, huh?” Paige teased, looking at how you swallowed up every inch so greedily. “Squeezing my dick so tight, you love this shit. Right, baby?”
“Aw yeah, P. Love it like that, fuck me like that.” You moaned, jaw dropping slack as you clawed for anything to keep you grounded.
Paige angled her hips ever so slightly, just enough to push her cock up against your cervix. Gently at first, but when she heard the mewl that escaped your mouth and the way your body convulsed it became rougher. You trembled as she kept thrusting into you, the vibrator nestled against her clit pushed up against your mound so heavy.
You reached for her hand to grab and place on your abdomen, the bulge that formed there. “S’deep, daddy. It’s in my fuckin’ stomach.” You whimpered, tears blurring your vision.
“Finna put a baby in you.” She muttered. Her voice was shaky, but even then her rhythm didn’t falter. Her eyes watched you like you were a piece of art, and you were; for her eyes only. “Fill you up with my cum so good, yeah? You gonna have my kids, ma?”
“Yes. I’ll have ‘em, P.” Your mind was trying to focus of the words leaving your mouth but the way she was fucking you so rough clouded your brain.
Sweat ran past Paige’s collarbone, dripping onto your skin. Her silver cross chain dangled in your face and the cool metal against your skin every few seconds offered brief relief to the heat you felt everywhere else. Paige’s hips were pushed up against your own, your juices smearing on her insanely muscular thighs. You were drenching her, a sinful painting of the clear and milky white fluid made her groan loudly.
“Gonna fill you up ‘til that shit is dripping outta you.” Her words were so filthy, and the sudden pressure she placed at your abdomen— right where her strap reached— was a recipe for a dirty disaster. “You want that? Wanna be my baby mama? Carry my kid?”
“I-fuck, fuck! Paige!” You squealed. “I want your kids. I want you.”
“Cum for me then. Lemme see that pretty fuckin’ cunt cum, baby. Can you do that for me?” She questioned you. Her hands moved back to your hips, slightly angling them upwards to kiss your cervix beautifully. “Gonna cream my cock, huh?”
And just like that you were. Your cum covering the strap and loud cries of the blonde’s name escaped your mouth. Your toes curled and your legs trembled as she fucked you through it, softly rubbing your hip with her thumb as the rough exertions came to a halt.
Only briefly, however. Because it only took her a few more seconds to put you on all fours, her obvious strength dominating you and positioning you exactly how she pleased. She treated you like a princess but right now? She treated you like a toy, man handling you and forcing your body into a picture perfect arch.
“Pretty girl can take it from the back, right? Make daddy proud?”
And you nodded, so desperate to feel her inside you again. She plowed into you for hours, leaving you weak and sore and fulfilled for an eternity. Or at least until she was back from her road trip.
author’s note my baby daddy paige 🙂‍↕️ @arlertwhore i hope i did you justice ml, BC THIS SHIT IS HOTTTT.
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iluvmattsbeard · 9 months ago
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Wet Dreamz (m.s)
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master list
matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: smut and swearing
preview: matt and you were partners for a project. he unexpectedly started having sinful dreams about you, suddenly craving you ever since. one thing nobody knew; he was a virgin.
“y/n, you will be partnered with Matt.” the teacher says trying to grab your attention. “y/n? are you listening?” you snap out of your thoughts and look at him. “huh?” you ask. “you’re partnered with Matt for this project.” he replies with an unamused look. you look around before you look back at him. “who’s that?” you ask.
he lets out a sigh before speaking, “Matt raise your hand.” you look around again as you catch the eyes of a brown haired boy. you weren’t mad about it. he looked decent.
you get up and walk to where he was sitting. “next time y/n, i expect you to be paying attention. this project will effect your grade drastically if you do poorly.” you hear the teacher say looking at you. all you do is nod. you were barely passing the class.
Matt’s POV
i got paired with y/n. she didn’t even know who i was. i knew of her because she would get in trouble constantly due to her lack of focus. as she came to sit next to me, we clicked right away. we both dreaded school, but who doesn’t? as much as i didn’t like school, i still paid attention, unlike her, so i had to explain the whole point of the project to her.
we exchanged numbers after class so that we could talk about when we could meet up to work on it. we only had two weeks to complete it. i knew i had to stand on top of it because i know she won’t.
a few days pass, me and y/n still working on the project together, with us having to meet at lunch. i got to know a little bit more about her. she was pretty cool to talk to. we even started texting without talking about the project itself. so when this is done, it’d be cool to hang with her.
meeting during lunch really wasn’t a good idea. there was too much distractions. so i took the opportunity to invite her over to my place after school. she agreed and i ended up driving her with me once the final bell rang.
End of Matt’s POV
you and Matt were in his room as you sat on the floor. you were reading over some information from the website the teacher recommended and you were feeling overwhelmed. “all of this is hurting my head.” you say laying back on the floor. Matt lets out a small laugh as he responds, “me too. i don’t get how this will be beneficial in the future.” you shot up looking at him, “exactly! school is so bullshit to me. they don’t even teach real world shit.” you say sighing. “i agree. but i didn’t put up with almost 12 years of school just to fail.” he says. you groan, “right. it would be wasteful. i’m pretty sure you don’t have anything to worry about. my grades are literally on the edge of failing.” “well, i could help you.” he suggests. all you do is let out a laugh, “trust me, teaching me is hard.”
“i’ve been teaching you these past days. trust me i know.” Matt responds as you both let out a laugh. “it’s hot in here.” you say taking off your hoodie, pulling down your shirt as it lifted a bit. Matt looks at you as he catches a glimpse of your cleavage. he looks away quickly, clearing his throat. where has all of that been hiding? he wonders. “well let’s continue working on this.” he says trying to move past it. all you do is nod as you lay on your stomach continuously reading.
when you weren’t paying attention, Matt would stare at you slightly. he would stare at the way your tits were pressed against the floor, thinking how perfect they were.
after a few hours, Matt takes you home. “thank you for the ride.” you say smiling, slinging your backpack on one shoulder. “yeah of course” he replies. you open the door stepping out, but as you get up, your hoodie raises slightly revealing your thong peeking out above your jeans slightly. Matt catches a glimpse turning red. you shut the door and walk away. he sits there in his car for a bit as he gulps before driving away.
Matt arrives home tidying his room before going to bed. he picks up one of his notebooks as he sees a sticky note on it reading, ‘thank you for dealing with me as a partner - Y/N’.
he smiles at the note as he puts it down on his bed side table, getting into bed. as he lays there, he couldn’t help but think about what his eyes caught from you earlier. your cleavage and your thong. he couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Matt stop that.” he whispers to himself before shutting his eyes going to sleep.
Matt’s dream POV
you and Matt were sitting on your bed working on the project. Matt wasn’t paying attention to you as much and you were bothered by it. you took matters into your hands and you closed the book he was studying. you got on top of him, sitting on his lap as he gets caught off guard. you pull him into a passionate kiss and next thing you knew, you were under the covers tangled together naked.
End of Matt’s dream
Matt’s POV
i woke up sitting up quickly with my breathing uneven. what was that?! my heart was racing. did i just have a wet dream?!
i pulled up the covers to see a wet stain on top of the crotch of my sweats. what the fuck. this has never happened before. with y/n?! why? because of what i saw yesterday? i never even had sex before. how could i have easily dreamed of it? i gulp before getting up. i head to the bathroom to clean myself. i really can’t believe that just happened. now all i could do is replay it in my head. i groan at the thought.
after i got ready, i headed straight to school. on the drive there, i still couldn’t stop replaying everything that happened in my dream. even if i tried to distract myself, it wouldn’t go away. i needed it bad.
End of Matt’s POV
you and Matt were in class as you tried to tell him a story. all he was doing was nodding and staying quiet. “Matt? are you okay?” you question. he shakes his head before speaking, “yeah- yeah i’m good. sorry.” you give him a questionable look as you reply, “well you weren’t really paying attention as i spoke.” you laugh a bit. “oh i was.” he says with a nervous smile. “yeah okay.” you say turning your body straight, pretending to pay attention to the teacher.
Matt does the same as he groans quietly to himself. he didn’t know if he should tell you or not about what he imagined. he decided to shrug it off.
it was the end of the day again as you both end up at Matt’s house. you were standing up as you rehearsed your lines on what to say for the presentation. Matt just sat there looking lost. “Matt seriously what is wrong? i can’t do this without you, you know?” you say frustrated. “i’m sorry. i’ve just been having a hard time.” he responds scratching the back of his neck. “well we really need to focus on this. if you need to get something off your chest, do it now so we can continue.” you say. Matt hesitates before speaking, “okay well i sort of had an odd dream last night.” you look at him confused. “okay?” you reply. “it wasn’t a normal dream.” he continues.
“what? were you like having sex or something?” you ask jokingly with a laugh. but he just sits there staying silent with a blank face. “oh. oh! you did!” you exclaim. “who was it about?” asking with curiosity. “some random girl from class.” he says lying through his teeth. “so what’s the big deal?” you ask. “this your first time having a wet dream?” all he does is nod. you widen your eyes, “really? that’s new. i would’ve thought you were like every other guy constantly thinking about sex.” letting out a laugh. “why is it bothering you so much?”
“because, it’s weird. especially with this specific girl.” he responds. you raise an eyebrow before asking a question, “have you ever had sex before?” the question takes Matt by surprise as he responds quickly, “of course i have!” he lies. you let out a laugh. “okay! sorry! well then you shouldn’t be so weirded out. now come on. lets focus.” replying to him.
it still was eating him in the inside.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
after the weeks flew by, you and Matt got an ‘A’ for your presentation. you decided to celebrate by treating Matt with fast food. you both sat on his bed eating. “thank you for being such a good partner.” you say with a smile taking a bite from your burger. “no, thank you.” he replies. you couldn’t help but notice he still was acting strange these past days. “Matt don’t tell me you’re still on about the sex dream.” you ask wiping your hands with a napkin. “you should just shoot your shot already since it’s eating you up. maybe she’ll feel the same.” he shakes his head, “i wouldn’t know how to approach her. plus, that’s weird. i had a sex dream about her and what? i just walk up to her and tell her that? that's creepy.” he replies. you laugh at his response. “well not quite but, i don’t like how you’re acting so off.” you say taking another bite.
Matt sighs as he shakes his head, “just forget it y/n. i’m fine.” you stop in your place as you shake your head. “okay that’s it.” placing the unfinished food on his side table. you wipe your mouth with a napkin as you look at him. it was silent for a bit until you spoke up, “do you want to kiss me?” you blurt out. Matt’s eyes widen. “what?” he asks.
Matt’s POV
i hesitated for a bit. “to help distract you.” she says with a small laugh. "uh- uh yeah sure." I say hesitantly. i mean i couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. i scoot closer to her. i’ve only ever kissed one other person and i don’t think it was good so maybe this will be different. i can hear my heart pounding out of my chest. i put my hand on her cheek as i lean in and kiss her softly. she scoots closer without breaking the kiss, putting her hands on my shoulders.
to her she might think this is just a distraction but, little did she know my dream was about her. we continue to kiss as she swings her leg around to straddle me. i put my hands on her waist as the kisses get heavier. i could feel myself get hard beneath her and i could tell she notices. i pull away from embarrassment, “i’m so sorry.” i say. all she does is smile and respond with, “it’s okay.” pulling me into another kiss. i could feel her start to grind against my clothed dick. i let out a small groan from the feeling. i pull away as i lay her down gently. “d-do you want to do this?” i say nervously but, i couldn’t expose the fact this would be my first. she nods as she kisses me again. she takes off my shirt as i do the same for her. i unbutton my jeans and pull them off leaving me in my boxers as she does the same with her pants leaving her in her under garments. i gulp looking at her body. come on Matt play it cool. we kiss again as she rubs my dick through my boxers. i really hope i’m big enough.
i reach into my drawer as i pull out a condom. i bought a box just in case i were to lose it. which i am now, so it was good preparation. i open rip off the deal as i look at her. “uh.. i haven’t done this in a while so.. i might not be as good.” i warn her lying. i’ve never done this at all. i had to prepare her just in case i cum quick. “it’ll be good” she reassures me. she takes the condom from my hand as i take off my boxers slowly. i see her eyes widen a bit as she slowly wraps the condom on my dick. i lay her back down, sliding her panties to the side, and align myself at her entrance. she gives me a smile as i look down at what i’m about to do. i push myself into her slowly as i watch her relax.
i hear her moan softly as i continue to push my full length into her. “shit.” i groan quietly. i watch her face as i start to thrust slowly. she shut her eyes as she bites her lip softly. i can’t believe this is happening. my dream finally coming true. i pick up the pace as i put both my hands on her sides. “yes just like that.” she moans out putting her hands on my chest. i kiss her as i continue to go deeper into her keeping my fast tempo.
“fuck Matt you feel so good.” she moans. every time she spoke i felt my dick twitch. her moans were heavenly. “you’re so perfect.” i whisper to her. i lay myself on her slightly as she scratches my back. her scratches were hard as i feel the slight sting.
all my worries disappear once i find out i’m actually doing a good job. she made me feel a bit more confident. as soon as i was about to cum i pull out because i wanted to keep pleasing her. i pull her by her thighs as i put my head in between her legs. i start licking at her folds softly as she lets out a breath. i then start sliding my tongue up and down, swirling my tongue on her clit. i felt her grip my hair lightly. “oh Matt.” she moans. “you taste so good.” i say continuing to eat her out. “Matt i’m going to cum.” she says as i start to suck on her clit. she throws her head back as she arches her back, shoving her pussy more into my face. “yes Matt just like that!” she screams out as she cums all over my mouth.
i get back up as i lick my lips, realigning myself as i thrust back into her sensitive core. she gasps as she grips onto my arms. i thrust at a fast pace before cumming inside her into the condom. “oh fuck.” i moan out.
we were both catching our breath as i pull out of her. i take off the condom and throw it in the trash. "you must be a pro or something. that was incredible.” she says sitting up putting her clothes on.
good to know. little did she know, i ain't ever did this before.
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a/n: not my best work lol. likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! thank you :)
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songbirdmunson · 8 days ago
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Vιԃҽσ Gαɱҽʂ
eddie munson x afab!reader
based off this little idea I had
• wordcount: 1.1K
18+ only or I will break your knees (lovingly) explicit content ahead, if you don’t wish to see don’t read! Steve Harrington is mentioned more than once. voyeurism sex with Eddie. enjoy!
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“Can you even hear a word I’m saying right now?” Your boyfriend's silence answers the question for you as you roll your eyes, crossing your arms in front of you. You are all for him getting some time to unwind but lately he’s been glued to his Xbox, playing some new game with Steve that you couldn’t care to remember the name of. He’s oblivious to your frustration as he chats away with Steve, only pausing to take a sip of the Mountain Dew he keeps in his chalice on his desk.
You walk over slowly behind him, looking at the screen as he and Steve fight off zombies, any other day you’d let him play and you’d go do your thing. Today, you wanted attention, and you were going to get it, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind. “Eddie baby?” You whisper, leaning down where your head is next to his, you can hear Steve on the other end cackling about something. You poke your boyfriend in the side but he just shoos you off, not even turning to look at you.
‘He’s turning into an addict.’ You think to yourself as you finally walk yourself around his chair, stopping right in front of him. “Hey!! What are you doing babe?!” He all but shrieks out as you look down at him, smirking evilly. “Getting what I deserve Eddie.” You mumble, running your finger down the side of his face as he lets out a complaint about how you just made him die, poor thing. That will be the farthest thought in his mind in a few seconds.
Your fingers fumble with his belt, pulling it through the loops before you’re throwing it behind you. Eddie looks down at you, his eyebrows shooting up underneath his bangs. “Babe… oh Jesus Christ.” He moans out as you kiss the tip of his cock through his boxers, your fingers grip deliciously into the meat of his thighs as he rips his headset off, slamming it down onto his desk so hard you don’t know how it didn’t break.
“You wanted my attention, hmm? Little brat couldn’t even make it an hour without needing me down their throat, that’s kinda gross baby.” He growls out, his thick fingers winding their way into your hair as he pulls you down closer to where he needs you the most. You go brainless as you pull his dick out of his pants slowly, it’s so pretty, his piercing shimmering on top only makes it better. You spit onto your hand slowly before wrapping it back around the base, twisting slowly before you begin to move it up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.
“You’d rather pay attention to zombies than this baby? Are you crazy?” You ask, pouting up at him as he leans his head back, a loud moan slips its way past his beautiful lips. Nobody is thinking about poor Steve on the other end of the headset, his face is beet red and his pants tight, but that would be a worry for later. “N-No, fuck, would much rather watch you use that sinful mouth of yours baby, all day.” He chokes out, the air leaving his body almost completely as you spit down onto the head, you smile up at him one more time before you dive down like you’re starved and his dick is the best meal on earth.
Shuffling forward you go down as far as you can, choking slightly as Eddie lets out another beautiful noise. You had him exactly how you wanted, he’s like putty as he sinks down into his chair. His hips are soon bucking against your face, incoherent mumbling and praises are tumbling out of his mouth as the coarse hair beneath his cock scratches against your face. It’s all thrilling, the smell of him, how he tastes, the realization that Steve and any of his other friends that are playing with him can hear you pleasuring him right now. It almost has you wanting to cum in your jeans.
You pop off only for a second, catching some air as you lick your lips slowly. “Want me to ride you in your little gaming chair?” You tease mockingly as he nods, his hair is everywhere, tangled up from where he’s been pulling on it, slightly sticking to his face from the sweat beads that are rolling down his forehead. You know they would taste delicious too, everything about Eddie does. You waste no time as soon as he gives you the go to get on him you’re pushing your pants down to your knees, your underwear are only pulled to the side as you turn around facing away from him.
Just having him in your mouth already has you wet enough that you don’t need to prep, you turn your head around over your shoulder, smiling at him wickedly before you sink down onto him. You bite back a moan as his dick stretches you out, you and Eddie had done this so many times but you’d honestly never get used to how thick he is. It’s absolutely perfect, every ridge of the veins rubbing against you in the right way, every time you go back down the head rubs against the spot that has your legs turning into jelly. “Please baby… think I’m gonna cum.. fuck!” His big hands are holding onto your hips loosely, you know his brain is so pussy whipped he can't even think straight right now.
“Next time you even think about ignoring me for your little zombies I want you to remember this baby, you understand?” You scold him, grinding your hips in a circle as you feel him shaking beneath you. “Y-yes! Yes! Promise I’ll remember, I’m sorry, fuck I’m sorry please baby right there oh my fucking go-od.” This man is down bad, you laugh a little as you lift up and down only a few more times before he breaks, you keep yourself still, feeling his cock twitching inside you as he lets out profanities that you weren’t even sure existed. “Fuck… such a good boy, filling me up. I’m so proud of you.” You coo, lifting yourself up slowly, his softening dick falling out of you, you can feel his cum leaking out and sticking to your thighs.
You lean back against Eddie, smiling before turning his face to kiss him a few times. “That was better than any of your games.” You say confidently, grabbing his headset and slipping it on. “Hey Steve, he’s all yours now hun, have fun killing Zombies.” You say, laughing wildly as Eddie’s face heats up. Steve cums in his pants that day, and he’s not even ashamed.
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taglist ahead, thanks for reading! 💗
@loserboysandlithium @runningupthatvecna @wolfqueenxxx @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @magicalmysterytour13 @woahlifehitsyahuh @hellfiremunsonn @eddiemunsonfuxks @ali-r3n @guiltyasquinn @beep-beep-sherlock @barnes-bestgirl @edsstrawberryjam @micromoose @3rd-conchord @mamakitty187 @comeonatmebruh @bcmbiquinn @seatnights @scorpiosapphire @berilynzoe @floredaqueen @melodymunson @rafescorpsebride @bloodibambiidoll @gri959 @munsongirly @londonfog-chan @quinnyficsy @hauntedfawnn
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dumbbitchgalore · 2 months ago
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Repost because it got flagged a while ago
Young Lt!Price and the General’s wife 🧚‍♀️
“And this is Mrs Holmes, General Holmes’ wife.”
Among the glitz and glamour of military balls, sandwiched between couples swaying to the music, John is introduced to an unenthusiastic woman no older than 27.
Her body wrapped in a baby blue organza dress as diamonds find their place on her ears, neck and fingers causing her to stand out from the see of black and white.
She looks at him with no particular interest as she extends her hand out as a sign of formality. She’s heard a lot about the young soldier. Talented, brave, smart and occasionally stories of his virility circle among the women.
“A pleasure, Lieutenant Price.” She says monotonously as John takes her hand to shake it while giving her a wolfish grin.
“Please ma’am, the pleasure is all mine.” He responds back, less formal and more rapacious.
Humming softly at his reply, you pull your hand away from his grasp examining his face. A light stubble, cleaned around the edges, hair slicked back giving way to the old Hollywood style. His cerulean eyes staring you down, drowning in a pool of sin. The tiny mole decorating his nose doesn’t get past her, it adds a cuteness to his person in her eyes.
“Your reputation precedes you, Lieutenant as well do your accolades adorning your chest… especially for someone so young.” She states.
Not knowing why such compliments fell out of her lips, she makes no effort in correcting herself, rather her cold and calculating stare tries to picture John without all the hustle and bustle of the military world, albeit she could not.
John chuckles, “I could say the same thing about you, although in other circumstances.”
This piques her interest as she raises an eyebrow at his comment.
“Meaning?”
John rolls his eyes shoving his hand into his pant pockets as he gives her a shrug.
“The meaning being that a woman as young as you being with such an old-”
Her scowl silences him in an instant. A deadly glare, cold enough to freeze the rivers of hell.
“Watch it. That’s my husband and your General you’re speaking about.”
John smirks, satisfaction tricking through his veins.
“Bet he’s never made you c-”
Not letting him finish his sentence, she huffs and storms away in anger, earning a chuckle from John.
For the remainder of the night, She spends her time nursing a glass of rum and coke near the bar as she scans the area. A frown finds her way to her face as she sees women younger than her drapping themselves on him as her husband relishes in the in their salacious touches.
"You know, I can make you forget about him ma'am." A voice resonates behind her catching her attention.
She turns around to face him and rolls her eyes. "It's you."
A chuckle rips through John as he moves a strand of hair from her face. "Come on, Lovie. Let me take you to cloud nine and back."
Sighing softly, an inner turmoil beings to ensue within her as her mind becomes murky with hunger. She should be able to do as she pleases for once in her life like her husband, no? She deserves to feel cock-drunk and fucked out.
"Lead the way, Lieutenant."
***
Ruffling of soft fabrics echo through the bathroom, its dim brillance casting a subtle glow on the two. John kisses her taking charge of the situation, but that doesn't slide with the missus.
Grabbing him by the hair, she gives it a harsh tug elicitng a hiss from his lips before pushing him down on the floor. John complys subserviently without much of a fight letting you take the reins. He looks up at her, eyes mirroring desperation and sex.
"Mistress..." He mutters pathetically.
Tsking him softly, her eyes burn with satisfaction as she sees the young soldier pleading for pleasure with her.
Lifting her dress, giving way to her panties, she dips her fingers into them rubbing her folds before her fingers plunge into her aching hole, coating them to her slick juices. Squelches erupt from her pussy as she moans softly, gazing into John's azure irises.
Pulling her fingers out of her tight cunt, she smears her slick into his lips as they leave behind a nice sheen.
"Open wide, Lieutenant." You command softly.
John complies, opening his mouth to accomodate her fingers. She slides her fingers into his mouth, rubbing them on his tongue before giving him permission to suck. He sucks on her fingers earnestly, paying attention to where her cunny honey has left their mark on her digits.
He moans softly, savouring her taste. Who knows when he'll ever get to taste Mrs Holmes again? He laps them clean as she pulls her fingers out of with out drawing a 'pop' noise as John releases her fingers.
"Now, be a good soldier and serve your country right, hm?"
She mutters sweetly as she grabs him by his hair, dragging his face closer to her cunt.
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genderkoolaid · 9 months ago
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expand on ur "mental asylum Marxism shit" thing about children & grief?? from what you've said im pretty sure i will relate from my own experiences as a grieving child. also it sounds interesting!!
so i was thinking about how weird it is that, when a child has to deal with the death of a loved one, they say something like "no child should have to go through this! no child should have to even think about death!" which strikes me as weird because i was a child who dealt with the deaths of multiple close family members, very close together. the first was my great-grandmother, who i lived with and who was my best friend. death was never foreign to me (my mom has always been very death-positive on top of all that). grief was just part of my life like everything else was.
but i realized that its because people think childhood should not have any flaws. you should be 100% happy and fulfilled all the time. any time a child experiences anything painful, its bad. not "children should have access to love and support," but "children should not have basic life experiences because the idea of childhood being anything other than fluffy purity scares me."
because children in society are fundamentally not people. especially in a society structured around christian beliefs in natural law theory, that what is natural = what is good, healthy, and Divinely commanded. so on top of children being the property of adults, they are also forced to be the symbols of Nature. whatever is the most useful to whoever needs them. which means we built up this idea of children as tabula rasas, pureness incarnate. like a magic mirror where if we look into it, we'll be able to catch a glimpse of the true face of humanity. every single thing children do can be scrutinized for some grand truth about humans as a whole. and then, the ways children are treated also reflect how we think humanity should interact with its own nature.
example: the idea of humanity as inherently sinful and wicked, with that urge needing to be suppressed through state violence (hello hobbes) = the idea that children are annoying and shitty on purpose and need to be forced via punishment into being Good Citizens.
this is also why children cannot be trans, even though all trans people must prove that we were trans children. being queer must be unnatural; and even if not, its inherently sexual, and sexuality is dirty and bad. so children can't be trans, and they also can't read books on puberty until their parents decide when and what exactly they are allowed to learn. child victims of sexual assault only matter to the extent that they can be used as a symbol of a cultural threat; calling Jewish or trans people pedophiles means saying that they are foreigners attacking basic human nature, and indirectly, Divine command. if you aren't the right kind of victim, or when you inevitably reveal yourself to be A Person with complicated experiences and opinions, you are no longer of use to the agenda.
it sucks that bad things happen to anyone. aspects of youth can exacerbate the pain sometimes, but sometimes it does the reverse: I wish I could have spent more time with the family members I lost, but I know other people who are glad they loss family members young, because they weren't really hurt by it. I think the main thing is that, even sometimes when we talk about our past selves, we project this cultural idea of Child As Purity and ignore the actual person having the experience. when we "empathize" with children by projecting Purity onto them, we aren't actually connecting with them.
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nackrosor · 1 year ago
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~Your Wish~
(Part 3/3)
Part 1 - Part 2
Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader
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warnings/tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con (with very dubious p in v), power dynamics, mommy issues, Brahms is a perv through and through
word count: 2,9k.
author's notes: this is the filthiest thing I've ever written, I swear. I tried to imbue this with all my naughtiness lmao I hope it was enough! Also, here's some art I made 'cause I'm that generoussss. I hope you enjoy the food! Bon appétit! 🤤🌹
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"Did I scare you, Y/N? I didn't mean to..." 
He grimaced at the way his child voice came out broken and less convincing than usual, but in his state, even simply speaking was a feat.
You had been sluggishly fighting against his persistent grip on you, yet once you heard him speak, a loud gasp of shock escaped you, and your body stiffened under his. The way you tensed up made your back arch and your ass stick out even more. His focus shifted to your half-clad bottom, which was hovering only inches from his face. The drenched fabric of your panties had somehow stuck to the side, teasing him - torturing him - with that mouthwavering sight of you. 
Oh, what a struggle it was for him to refrain from seeking your heat again and then shoving himself inside you, once and for all. He was shivering with restraint while proceeding to keep you pinned to the mattress. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold himself back, though.
He wanted you to know who he was before he finally and thoroughly claimed you as his. His pride somehow exceeded his yearning.
"B-Brahms...?" You hesitantly whispered his name, hoping to catch a glimpse of him behind your shoulder. You could only make out a dark silhouette in your peripheral vision, for both the darkness of the room and his tight clasp prevented you from seeing anything else. "How-? W-what?"
Your voice was a little louder this time, and you sounded sharper. He also noticed with satisfaction that you were now remaining still under his hold. That was good. It would make things easier. He'd prefer not to fight you, not to force you... But if you were to refuse him... He would not hold back... He couldn't...
"You don't have to be alone anymore in this big, scary house." 
He made sure to stress out the last words, the same ones you used when you had confided your wish to the doll. He wanted you to understand… That wicked side of him wanted you to realise that he had always been there, watching you, listening in on you... That you have never truly been alone.
"Aren't you happy?"
He couldn't hide the impatience in his voice. His palm pressed harder onto your spine, imperceptibly rubbing up and down, seeking your touch. He found himself edging closer to you, his mask nearly touching your asscheek, his other hand ready to commit another despicable sin, the worst one yet.
“Let me see you? Please?"
He stopped in his tracks, momentarily stunned by your words.
You had asked so sweetly, your voice such a gentle caress to his ears, how could he have declined your request? After all, he had longed to have those gorgeous eyes of yours fall on him, finally seeing him, since the first day. And what would have been better than having you looking at him as he ravished you? Watching lust twist your features, the pleasure - he was igniting in you - flooding your lovely eyes. A shuddering breath escaped his lips as the vivid image arose in his mind, aggravating the torture.
Brahms loosened his grip, allowing you to turn around and lie on your back. As soon as your eyes met his, you let out another loud gasp. His gut flipped at the way your wide eyes flitted across his mask, chest, thighs, taking him all in.
You saw him. You were looking at him. Ah, what a dream... What a dream come true...
He wondered what was going through your pretty little head. How did it make you feel to know that the kid's voice you've occasionally heard reverberating through the mansion over the past few weeks hadn't come from a possessed doll or an imprisoned spirit... But from him. Your Brahms, in flesh and blood.
“B-Brahms…”
The way you tentatively called his name while looking up at him like a deer in the headlights was pure bliss.
He nodded enthusiastically in response and drew closer to you. His gaze flickered from your face to your hand, which he noticed slowly reaching up in his direction. He jerked back instantly out of reflex, frightened like a beaten dog meeting a loving hand for the first time, but as soon as he realized there was no threat in your intentions, he leaned back in and allowed you to touch his mask. Oh, how he yearned to feel your soft palm caressing his wounded cheek... to feel your gentle touch skin on skin… But that would have to be enough for the moment.
Now that he had your full attention. Now that you knew who he was and that no harm would come from him… with your eyes staring up at him with such awe and wonder… 
He couldn't wait any longer. 
His hand eagerly slipped between your thighs, fingers greedily seeking your heat. He caught with utmost satisfaction the way your eyes widened again, your lips parting to let out a shocked cry; you looked so adorable… so desirable… so vulnerable…
He kept his ever-attentive gaze fixed on you, desperate to catch your every reaction, as he stroked your wet folds and teased your entrance.
“W-what are you… Ah!~”
A tremor pierced him as he felt your body tremble so sharply when he easily entered you, triggering a loud whine from you as he drove his fingers deep into your walls.
His breathing was extremely shallow, and he could see your chest raise and fall as you began panting as well; the sight only served to add fuel to his burning desire, leaving him eager to make you cry and shiver just like that over and over again. 
His movement against you was firm but frantic, fueled by his long-repressed need, which was causing him to shudder and whimper as he fingered you. He had no idea what he was doing, but your moans and squeals were guiding and urging him to keep hitting that spongy spot deep inside you which seemed to make you scream the loudest.
“N-no… W-w-wait…”
Your hands shakily reached down to seize his and halt his actions, but he quickly grasped your wrists and pinned them both on your belly, holding them down with one palm while continuining on driving his fingers back and forth, unrelentingly, into you. He could tell you liked it, the lewd sounds you were making told him as much. He knew his actions were pleasing you. Your cunt was so wet, and your walls welcomed his long fingers with such hunger, swallowing them fully with each push.
How would it feel to sink inside you? To have your tight, spongy walls suck and squeeze his cock dry? Would his cum leak back out? It always did when he used his doll, the one he had turned to look just like you… He constantly had to push his fluids back inside the hole…
“Brahms... S-stop… Ah!”
Your broken whimpers sounded so cute. You were so cute. What were you asking of him? Certainly not to stop. Not that he would or could. The feeling of making you squirm under his touch was intoxicating, a feeling he had just discovered and yet couldn't get enough of. He had already grown addicted. The sight of you laying there completely vulnerable, completely his, was filling him with such a rush of euphoria. 
He released your wrists, disregarding the way you immediately but weakly started tugging at his hand again in protest. Instead, he reached down to his trousers, letting out a deep guttural grunt when he felt the dampness of the material, soaked with his seed. Leaked precum? Or did he burst into his pants without even realising? It didn't matter. His cock was hard and throbbing when he grabbed it, ready to slip out of the restraining cloth and finally sink inside you… He couldn’t wait, oh no, he couldn’t wait anymore-
“I said stop!” 
His entire body shuddered violently, and his senses suddenly sharpened as if he had just awoken from a trance. Both his hands abruptly came to a halt.
He wasn't sure if he was shaking more from the thrill your imposing tone caused in him or the excruciating hunger that was gnawing at him, demanding to be satiated. Possibly both combined given the intensity of the tension that had taken hold of his body.
Brahms stared at you with bated breath and childish fear, like a misbhehaving boy caught in the act of some deplorable deeds by his strict mother. He didn't dare to make a sound nor move an inch as he waited to be scolded.
A strange glint passed your eyes, one that he could barely catch, let alone decipher. However, your entire demeanour seemed to alter abruptly in response to his reaction.
"What do you think you're doing?"
He gasped. A flood of dread shook his entire being and made his stomach churn upon hearing your stern tone. Did he upset you? Were you angry at him? He couldn't bear it. Oh no… He only wished to please you... Only ever wished to please you...
"What were you doing, mh?" 
Brahms vehemently shook his head, his panicked gaze glued on your hard look. 
“Brahms.”
Your commanding tone made him shudder again. He cowered, crouching down and dropping his head on your lap. He didn't dare admit what he was about to do, what he had been doing long before you woke up.
"Brahms!"
He felt your hands pull on his arms, but he only pressed his head further against you, burying his face in your womb, his whimpers muffled by your skin. His hands reached to your sides, holding you vehemently but not threateningly. He wanted to show you how good he was. How good he could be for you. He was sorry. Yes. He was terribly sorry. He would never upset you again.  
"Please…" He pleaded in his childish voice, nuzzling his forehead into your belly.
"Please, what?"
He tightened his grip on your sides and cried again, "Pleaseee… I need you…" 
His meekness only increased as you delayed to answer. His hands cradled your body, fingers clutching desperately at your nightgown and creasing the material. His head anxiously swayed back and forth as he rubbed his mask against you.
"Use your real voice."
Another tremor shook his body and he quickly obeyed your command. 
"I need you."
His voice came out low and hoarse, such a stark contrast to his childish tone. It caused a vibration in your tummy. He could feel how your body shivered in reaction. 
Raising his head to meet your gaze, he noticed that your eyes had widened significantly. Was it because of his voice? The way he begged? Did you like it? He could beg you again and again in his real voice, if it pleased you so. If that meant you’d let him have you.
"I need you, please…" 
His fingers travelled slowly along your sides, gingerly getting closer to your panties again, quivering with impatience and constraint. He kept his imploring look on you as he stroked his fingertips on the damp fabric before slipping them inside to rub against your folds once more. 
He saw your eyelids flutter and your chest rise harshly as you took a deep breath.
He whimpered as he felt your fingers weave into his curls and then capture them abruptly in a tight clasp.
"Lay down, Brahms." 
He merely lingered for a moment to process what you had requested of him. Then he did it. He lay down on the mattress without question. Eager to please you. Desperate to be in your good graces. He would do anything for you. 
His entire body was trembling with anticipation, a deep-seated urge to be touched threatening to overtake him as you climbed on top of him, claiming his former position. His body craved your touch so badly, yet he had to wait until you decided to put him out of his misery.
“You’re such a naughty boy. You know that?”
When he felt your weight on him and your groin sitting directly on his bulge, he felt his breath catch in his throat and his hips buck up instinctively. Only his unbuttoned pants separated his arousal from your heat.
He was losing his mind…
"Nobody ever taught you that's not how good boys are supposed to behave, mh?"
More whimpers flowed from his parted lips as you began to grind against him, painfully slowly but with force. He struggled to keep his eyes open and locked in yours; his quivering hands went up to hold your hips, seeking to control your movements, but you intercepted them and forced them down on the pillow on either side of his face. He let you keep them still.
"Please…"
"I will teach you… Yes, yes... I will teach you. Bad boys never get their way, no matter how much or how long they beg."
Brahms had always obtained whatever he wanted since he was a little boy. If he couldn't have it, he'd take it himself. But he wasn't going to admit it to you. He merely groaned and twitched in response, every inch of his body ignited by your leisurely and frustrating movement against him.
He craved being inside you... To spill his load deep within your core... but he was so worked up… he had been holding back for so long, too long… and the way you moved was so rousing, provoking him just enough to…
His body abruptly convulsed underneath you, a deep sigh of relief escaping from his lips as a dark and large wet stain appeared on the material of his trousers. All of the desire coursing through him reached a fever pitch that consumed every inch of his body.
He had never experienced such an intense and violent orgasm before. He had jerked off numerous times, but cumming never felt so good... 
Brahms was still trembling and panting when his eyes opened again to meet yours. You had stopped moving when he started spasming. Even in the dark, he could see the blush on your cheeks, the way your eyes were wide and glazed as they stared down at him, your own breath coming in short. 
"F-Fuck-"
His eyes were fixed on you, watching you as you gulped and shivered, clearly shaken by what had just happened. Your gaze kept darting back and forth between his pants and mask. When he felt your hands release his wrists, he pulled yours back, drawing you forward and causing you to fall on top of him with a yelp.
Brahms buried his face into the crook of your neck. Your scent was stronger than before, his nostrils filled with your natural aroma. His fingers trailed over your skin, feeling how clammy it was and relishing the way you shivered at the touch. He moved on along the curve of your neck until he reached the edge of your nightgown and peeled it down without hesitation, this time dragging it low enough to prevent it from rolling back up. The sight of your breasts made his stomach flip, just like it had done the first time. His body started to become stiffer once more. 
“Again…” he whispered breathlessly as he lifted your torso so you could sit on his lap just like before, straddling his groin. He could feel himself getting harder all over again. He could not possibly resist you.
"B-Brahms?"
His hands greedily mapped your body, groping every curve and dip they found. His touch soon became frantic and urgent.
"Again, again, again!"
He hastily freed his growing erection from his pants and without giving you time to register what was happening, he seized your waist and pulled you down onto him. 
At last, you had become one. 
The quiet room filled with both his and your moans of pleasure, which only grew louder as Brahms started guiding your hips up and down, each time with greater force, allowing him to fully sink into you. You were so warm, and the way your tight walls clenched around his cock was more intoxicating than he could have anticipated. It was maddening. The sound of your cunt slapping against his groin was the the best sound he had ever heard. He mentally added it to the list of pleasures he had so quickly become addicted to and sought to experience again and again and again...
He was a mess of sweat and whimpers and tremors, and so were you. 
Ah, to finally have you! To finally take you as his! This was everything he had ever dreamed and yearned for. You would never be alone or feel lonely again, and neither would he! 
Please you night and day, whenever and wherever! That's what he intended to do.
Oh, yes. 
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He will be such a good boy for you.
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venomhoundfanworks · 4 months ago
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Hazbin Hotel - Lucifer Kink Headcanons
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Personal kink headcanons for the ducky boy Lucifer. Not doing the more obvious/universally accepted kinks. Instead I'm writing about some of my more... niche takes.
The other Lucifer kink posts (and my other work) can be found on my masterlist >>HERE<<
Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader, but is AFAB for the last section; all the kinky shit obviously; discussion of Lucifer and Lilith's past relationship; self hatred and self punishment because Lucifer desperately needs therapy (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
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Exhibitionism/Public Sex ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
I have it imbedded in my head that Lucifer has a hardcore exhibition/public-sex kink that he tries desperately to keep under wraps. Especially now that Charlie and him are talking again.
He isnt... exactly good at hiding it however. The biggest tell is how he seems to have no shame with how horny he is for you. Lucifer will playfully smack your ass as you walk by each other or invite you to come sit on his lap in front of others. I'm not kidding when I say he has no shame.
What does catch you off guard however is how easily it is to convince the King of Hell of all people to have sex in places he is at risk of getting caught. Once you two have been dating awhile Lucifer may even start to suggest such things himself.
Its not that he wants to be seen fucking you, oh no; he wants to get caught bent in half with you fucking him senseless. He wants desperately to have his head buried between your legs, worshipping you, while your in the middle of work or even a meeting...
Lucifer will have you pinned against a wall, both of your lips desperate from teasing. Then Lucifer will just drop to his knees in front of you. You panic a bit, asking what he is doing. You both are in a hallway that anyone can walk into after all. Lucifer just smiles up at you and tells you to trust him; let him be a good boy and make you feel good.
An aspect of it is definitely a sense of self degradation/self hatred after everything that has happened to him; seeing himself as a pathetic cockslut, a whore who corrupted both of the first women. The other part is he wants to show the entire world just how good he is for you. How good he can make you feel. How much of a good boy he is for you. Only for you...
On that note...
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Humiliation ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
This might seem counterintuitive at first as the sin of Pride. But hear me out here. Like any kink, its a spectrum. For Lucifer, its not about actually disgracing the guy, no. Its about taunting him. Teasing, mocking; riling him up until he snaps and shows you just how good he can fuck.
As implied before, Lucifer is kind of a horndog when it comes to you. Especially when it comes to you. An easy way to rile him up is to start reciprocating his touches then pull back. This pairs wonderfully with his whole exhibitionism kink. True, he doesn't want to actually get caught, but he is more then willing to risk it.
Run your hand up his thigh under the table when you two are at dinner, position yourself just right so he gets an eyefull when you bend over, or start eating something a little too provocatively. Lucifer will be hard as a rock and eyefucking you immediately.
Then when Lucifer starts getting handsy, pull away. Whisper in his ear that he needs to be a good boy and wait until you get home as he whimpers in protest. Rinse and repeat.
By the time you two get home, Lucifer cant even wait until the door is closed before pouncing you. He had been waiting for so long it felt like. Now he wants to make both of you cum again and again, until neither of you can say anything but the other's name, and you never, ever, want to tease him like that again. (You always do of course.)
While Lucifer may be all about being a good boy, he can also be an absolute brat. Not even in the sexual sense, Lucifer just is snobbish without meaning to be. Like think when he first went to the Hotel and was struggling not to insult it then called Charlie's friends losers. Guy is just snooty.
This provides many wonderful opportunities to put him in his place. Quietly warn Lucifer that he needs to stop what he is doing or tone it down. Then if he continues, oohh will he regret it later. He had fair warning after all...
Later you'll have him bent over your knee, his hands bound and whole body jolting with every violent smack you give his ass. Lucifer's moans and sobs bleed into eachother as he promises not to do it again. Promises to do better.
Or you can edge him. Edge him until he is a sobbing, pleading mess. You tell him only good boys get to cum as you sit back and masturbate over his bound body. Lucifer writhes desperately begging to let him taste you, touch you, anything, as he ruts up into the empty air.
You can take pity on him. Finally letting the devil cum with you as he deliriously babbles praises and thank yous. Or. You can be the brat for once. See how far you can push him. Bringing him to the edge, over and over for hours. Every muscle in his body trembling uncontrollably, his eyes glazed and unfocused, bloodshot from all the tears. You finally let him cum when you hear him mumble pleads to heaven. Lucifer resorting to begging the place and people that had forsaken him long ago in his unhinged state.
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Panty Sniffing₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
Look. We all know Luci is a pussy devourer. The man loves it and can't get enough of it. But that's been discussed to death and not why we are here.
He...isnt exactly sure when this started. Lucifer just knows that it happened at some point when Lilith and him were growing apart. Sex had become nonexistent between them; and Lucifer, not wanting to pressure or bother Lilith, started taking her used undergarments to help him fulfill his... needs.
Now that Lilith is out of the picture, Lucifer has been left with the aftermath of a mean panty sniffing kink. Oooo boy has she created a monster without realizing it.
Its the first thing on Lucifer's mind as soon as he takes an interest in someone. What kind of underwear are they wearing? What color? How long have they been wearing them? How wet are they?
This man has now been cursed with the knowledge of how well he can smell and taste the individual pussy that wore the underwear. Its like every pair has been embalmed with the essence of the person that wore it.
Lucifer doesn't like to think of himself as greedy, he will take what he can get. If that means swiping a pair of underwear from your laundry or even your room if he gets the chance, he will.
Lucifer will push the underwear into his face and inhale as deep as he can, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. God, you smell amazing. Now he is just even more desperate to taste you...
So he tries. Lucifer kitten licks at the inside, where your cunt would sit, deliriously trying to get a taste of you. Lucifer moans when he manages to get a hint of your essence. You taste even better then he imagined.
Lucifer feverishly shoves your panties into his mouth, using it as a makeshift gag. Both of his hands rush to his cock; rock hard and aching just from the small taste he got of you. No time is wasted.
Lucifer throws his head back, arching upwards, his hands almost violently working at his shaft. The normally obscene moans he would be letting out are now muffled whimpers.
Lucifer franticly sucks the fabric in his mouth, playing and swirling at it with his tongue. Pretending its actually you he is playing with, your beautiful pussy in his mouth. Lucifer's ministrations completely saturate the garment with his saliva. Rewarding him with every bit of your taste that could possibly be wringed out of the fabric.
If/when Lucifer does finally manage to bed you, he 100% nicks your panties. You might think its a trophy thing; and while that might be true in the tiniest percent, its actually because Lucifer wants them as a memento of the night with you. He wants them so he can relive that mindblowing night.
Lucifer will have the underwear wrapped around his hard-on, using it as a cocksleeve while he desperately fists his weeping member. His eyes are glazed over as his mind goes back to that night. God. He wants you. He wishes so bad you were his.
But he will take what he can get.
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AN: This was supposed to go up like almost a full week ago but TUMBLR HAD TO BREAK ALL THEIR TAGS YAY
FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
There is a really nice brat!Lucifer, overstimulation, and kinda-exhibition drabble >>HERE<< by @ratskinsuit
Ooorrr if you just want to hear a bunch of dirty talk, you can go to >>THIS POST<< that has a bunch of things Lucifer might say to you during sex by @gluttonybiscuits
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