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sargeant-bxrnes · 8 months

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late night

summary: your boyfriend visits you after your stressful week, only to find you asleep. will that stop him? not at all. [requested!]

warnings!!: free use kink, he’s a freak tbh, but it’s billy so it checks out. | SMUT: fingering, dirty talk, slight degradation, hair pulling, praise, orgasm denial, unprotected sex. ROUGH sex.

word count: 1.9K

my masterlist | my requests are OPEN

Your week had been exhausting, stressing and overall, a mess. So many shitty things had happened that by the time Friday came you had no social battery or temptation to go out, all you wanted to do was sleep in your comfy bed, at your own place, and not worry about a thing.

Unbeknownst to you, Billy was standing outside your bedroom door, taking a peek. Originally he'd came over to your place to check up on you since you hadn't picked up his calls, however he didn't expect to see you like that, sprawled in your bed, cuddling a pillow, almost naked if it weren't for his own shirt.

Your fan had broken a couple of weeks ago, and since you were lacking cash to replace it, your bedroom was one hell of a furnace, even if the window was open, which is why you slept in nothing but one of Billy's old shirts, no panties, no bra. Your boyfriend's shirt was an oversized fit to you, so you were covered enough to not care about anything while you took a nap.

He tried, but he couldn't resist his thoughts or impulses any longer, he opened slowly the door and walked inside your bedroom without making a sound. In your sleep, you nuzzled your head against the pillow, laying on your tummy comfortably, legs slightly spread for comfort and an attempt to fight off the summer heat.

Billy stepped slowly on the cold floor, avoiding to create any noise.— his hands moved gracefully across your mattress, reaching your soft skin, his fingertips barely touching up your thigh, as he approached closer and closer to your pussy. He didn't held back, you two had a mutual agreement about free use.

Billy softly nudged your right thigh to your right, to spread your legs until they were wide enough, exposing your perfect pussy. His finger touched tentatively, and he bit back a moan when he felt the wetness, he slipped his middle finger inside with ease, beginning to move it slowly.

Upon the sensation, you moaned in your sleep, already starting to wake up, the familiar scent of Billy's cologne reached your nostrils, which is why you didn't panic, once he sensed you were more awake, he slid his ring finger in as well, slowly pumping them in and out, the squelching sounds of your wetness were sinful.

Slowly, you took a hold of your right thigh and moved it up higher, giving him more access to your pussy while you did the bare minimum, still slightly drowsy, smiling lazily at your boyfriend. "You're a jerk, I can't even have a good night sleep."

"I know, I'm the biggest jerk but you love me for it. It's okay to suffer a little bit for your man." He taunted you and started fucking you faster with his fingers, making sure his fingertips massaged your G-spot every now and then.

Your immediate reaction was to moan slightly louder against the pillow, he knew exactly how to work his fingers in a way that had you satisfied but begging for more at the same time.

"That's it, love your jerk boyfriend." He whispered in your ear, teasingly biting your earlobe as he curled his fingers right over your g-spot and began to rub your clit with his thumb.

The pleasure was so good, it was deliciously overwhelming, you let out a whimper. "I don't know if I love you or hate you for this."

"You love me. If you didn't, would I be inside of you like this? No, my sweet girl... God, you're so pretty it hurts." He kept teasing and taunting you with a satisfied smirk as he thrust his fingers in and out faster while rubbing your clit harder, with the purpose of driving you closer and closer to your orgasm.

His efforts were paying off, your moans grew louder, your hips having their own will as they moved closer to his hand, wanting to feel his fingers deeper inside you.

"Fuck, you're so needy." He placed one hand on your hips to keep them in place as he relentlessly fucked you with his fingers while rubbing your clit harder.

"Says the one who came to my place in the middle of the night to fuck me." You couldn't help but bite back, despite the overwhelming amount of pleasure coursing through your body.

"And I'll keep coming to fuck you anytime, anywhere." He growls as he picks up the pace, his fingers digging deeper into your pussy.

At the sound of his words, you tried to move your hips again, in a futile attempt to try and ride his fingers, your orgasm was just around the corner, it only took a bit of pressure and...

Feeling the way your pussy greedily squeezed his fingers, he knew you were about to cum. Billy smirked as he pulled out his fingers.

"You little shi-" You whined about the sudden emptiness in your pussy and the blatant orgasm denial, but were immediately silenced by the sight of Billy licking your juices off his own fingers—the sight made your pussy clench around nothing.

"What? What are you going to say about your boyfriend who fucks you senseless whenever you ask, hm?" There was a hint of condescension in his voice as he leaned down and kissed your neck, trailing his wet tongue along the soft skin.

You hummed softly, reaching behind you to run your fingers through Billy's hair as you felt his kisses moving to your shoulder blades. "Oh, nothing, baby. Love you."

His smile grew wider as he felt your fingers in his hair. "I love you too, princess. Now come on, I'm going to take my clothes off and fuck you properly."

As soon as he removed his weight from your body. you bit your lip in anticipation, spinning around in bed, laying on your back, your tits jiggling under the shirt from the movement, Billy's eyes immediately darting down to them. "Took you long enough."

"Well, I wanted to take my time and make sure you were all nice and wet for me." He smirked as he pulled his shirt off over his head, revealing a well-defined chest. He grabbed the edge of your shirt and took it off your body, leaving you completely naked and exposed to him, one of his hands moved to pinch your nipple teasingly.

His hands traveling down to unbuckle his belt. Not wanting him to delay it even more, you helped him remove the belt from the hoops, and then unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper.

"Good girl." He whispered as he took off his pants, pulling his boxers down as well, exposing his already hard cock, leaking precum from the reddened tip. He climbed onto the bed and positioned himself between your spread legs, rubbing against your slit, coating his tip with your juices, while making sure to rub against your clit.

"Oh don't be like that-" You complained, voice slightly high pitched due to a moan you held back, his damn teasing... you could feel his tip rubbing.

"Like what?" He inquired, biting his lip, teasingly tapping his tip against your clit.

"Billy-" A perfect mix of pleasure and exasperation could be heard in your voice, you needed his cock inside you badly, and the little shithead knew it.

"You like this, don't you?" He mocked as he positioned himself at your slick entrance, rubbing his cockhead against your opening before slowly pushing inside.

You felt his cock entering slowly, inch by delicious inch, the feeling of every vein and detail of his cock was absolutely amazing, a groan escaping your lips, your back arching slightly to ease it in, seeking more of that feeling.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He groaned huskily as he finally filled you up, his eyes full of lust and desire. He leaned down to capture your lips in a deep kiss while slowly thrusting in and out of you.

You whimpered against his lips and he swallowed each and every sound, moving one of his hands to hook one of your legs over his hip, expecting you to do the same with the other one, which you did.

"That's it, squeeze me tight." He grunted as he picked up the pace, pounding into you with more force this time, dragging his hips so his cock would drag against your walls with every thrust. His free hand reached down to play with one of your nipples while his other held on to the headboard.

You mumbled some praises, what you were saying didn't make an ounce of sense in your head, since your thoughts were completely clouded by lust and pleasure, he always knew how to fuck you, so, so good.

"You love this dick, don't you?" Billy goaded as he pushed deeper inside you with each thrust, going balls deep inside you,

"And you love this pussy." You bit back, giving the same energy, clenching around his cock on purpose.

"Fuck yeah, I love this pussy, I'm obsessed with you, baby," He hissed as he felt you tighten around him. His eyes almost rolled back in pleasure as he grabbed onto the headboard harder, pounding into your pussy mercilessly. "you're mine. Nobody else gets to have this pretty pussy."

"Mmm, is that so?" You two were in an exclusive and in a a stable relationship, but a little tease every now and then wouldn't hurt, you loved to rile the man up, especially during sex.

"Fuck yeah, it's mine, you're mine." He growled as he pulled out of you suddenly, flipping you onto your stomach. His rough hands grasped your hips before slamming back inside you from behind.

Your back immediately arched at the feeling, as you moaned a loud 'fuck!', your pussy felt so full in this position, he was stretching you out so damn good.

"That's it, take it like a good girl." He growled in response to your teasing, Billy grabbed onto your hair to pull your head back slightly. His free hand slid to your front and began rubbing your clit while he continued to pound into you from behind.

"You're so fucking wet, baby." Billy cooed in a mix of arousal and teasing as he felt your juices dripping down his hand. He continued to thrust into you roughly from behind while playing with your swollen clit. "You wanna cum? Hm?"

"F-fuck," Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as he kept pounding into you, your senses in overload. "yes, please."

"That's it baby, come for me.” He grunted as he increased the speed of his thrusting and fingers working on your clit, feeling your pussy squeeze around his cock, milking it for all its worth. "Come on, cum for me."

Billy moaned as he felt your body shudder in climax, your tight pussy quite literally milking him as he also came, filling you up deeply. "That's it, that's it, pretty girl."

"You're mine. I love you." He mumbled as he pulled out of you slowly, both hissing softly from overstimulation. He grabbed the shirt you had been wearing to clean the cum that had dripped down your thighs before throwing it to the side and laying down beside you, pulling you into his arms. "That was fucking amazing."

“Absolutely.” You agree, yawning softly while you lay your head atop his chest.

"Go to sleep, pretty girl." He murmured as he stroked your hair and ran his fingers down your back soothingly, giving you a soft kiss, nibbling on your lower lip a bit before letting go. “I'll be here when you wake up."

“Promise?”

"Promise.” He nodded, his heartbeat slowing down to match yours as he too began to get sleepy. "I promise I'll always be here for you."

And to your delight— the next morning you woke up in his arms, just as he promised. Billy was a man of his word, that much you knew.

#billy loomis #billy loomis fanfiction #scream #billy loomis smut #billy loomis scream #billy loomis fluff #billy loomis angst #billy loomis x you #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x female reader #billy loomis x y/n #billy loomis imagine #billy loomis one shot #slashers #slasher smut #scream smut

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wittlesissyb4by · 4 months

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"Uhh...are you supposed to interrupt me while i'm camming?" Jimmy's step-mother snapped as he timidly entered the room.

"No Mommy...I just--"

"You're lucky I just started and there aren't many people in yet." She said, annoyed, but not completely dismissing him. Terri could have abandoned Jimmy just like his father did, but she always had a strange attachment to the boy. Like a lost puppy you just had to take care of.

But there were rules. Terri didn't trust the 'men' in the house to use the toilet proper. They constantly left sprinkles on the seat, or left the seat up altogether. She decided long ago with Jimmy's father that diapers were the way to go. For both him and his 22-year old son.

Jimmy's dad hated it, but Jimmy--though reluctant at first--eventually took to them like a moth to a flame. Jimmy was always a wayward kid. Lacking direction, and not very independent. He liked having someone to tell him what to do. To care for him, even if it was in a somewhat demanding, demeaning way.

They depended on each other. They both had jobs, but it wasn't always enough to make ends meat, so Terri started up a side hustle.

"So what is it?" she asked, maintaining that testy tone. "Do you need your diaper changed? Or do you just have a stiffy situation?"

"I...I..."

"Pull down your pants."

"Nnghh no..Mommy..I...I..." he whimpered as he undid his belt buckle and pulled his pants down to his ankles, "I didn't mean to interrupt you I just--"

"Hush." She said, knowing he probably didn't have anything to say. He just needed some attention. A little direction. A little dominating. "Suck your thumb to keep you quiet. Or do you need your paci?"

He blushed, shakily putting his thumb in his mouth. It made Terri feel warm inside, seeing him obey and knowing he was secretly happy to do it, unlike his father, who she couldn't get to agree to much on anything.

"Good boy, now come here." she said, "Now come let Mommy check your diaper."

Jimmy waddled forward as much as his pulled down pants would allow.

Terri groped the front and back of Jimmy's pamper with no regard for Jimmy's personal space. He didn't seem to mind, though. Judging by the prominent throbbing coming from beneath the warm, bloated padding.

"Oh my!! Someone has quite the pamper poker in there!" she mused. Continuing to knead and rub the front of the soaking wet diaper. Jimmy blushed and whimpered, but didn't stop her. In fact, he pressed further into her.

"Awww! You poor boi! Do you need Mommy to take care of it real quick?"

Jimmy nodded harder, whining desperately.

"Ohhhhoho you do, huh?" Terri giggled. It made her melt to see him so worked up. She enjoyed being his little caregiver. It gave her a weird sense of purpose in a life where she otherwise hadn't found any. Of course the situation was bizarre, but hey, with how much Step-mom p0rn was on the internet, people didn't seem too put off by it, so why should she?

"Mmmm who's my big boi?" she asked, his diaper harder and faster now. "Are you gonna make a goo goo in your diaper for Mommy? Hmm? Are you gonna make it nice and sticky with your cummies? Do it for Mommy baybee. Cum in your diaper!"

It didn't take long. In less than 30 seconds, Jimmy was quivering and doing everything he could to keep his legs from collapsing while he busted a big, fat load into his already warm diaper.

"Good boyyy...good baybee..." Terri cooed, continuing to rub him softly while he came down from his high. Once he breathed a hefty, satisfied sigh, she tapped the front of his plump pamper dismissively.

"Off you go." she said, "Mommy has some work she has to do. Go play with your games or something. Mommy will be in in a little while to nurse you."

Jimmy nodded, thumb still in his mouth, but unable to hide a tiny smirk of glee. He didn't even pull his pants back up, just waddled back out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Terri sighed, smiling.

"Oh shit!" she exclaimed, suddenly remembering the live feed she had going. She raced to her computer. "Sorry about that!" she said, checking to see how many viewers she lost during that little episode.

But instead of dropping from the usual 80 or so viewers, the lobby had jumped to almost 2,000! The tips and comments were rolling in.

"Wish I had a step-mom like that!"

"She's sooo fine!"

"The diapers were weird at first, but now I'm kind of intrigued ngl"

"Always wanted to be a diapered dork for a beautiful woman!"

"FINALLY! Some good abdl stuff!"

"It's kinky as hell. But i'm here for it.

"New favorite channel."

"Subscribed!"

Terri couldn't believe it. The money was rolling in, the numbers were skyrocketing!

And it was right then that she realized there was about to be a very new type of Step-mother p0rn on the market.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was a weird one, I know. Not usually into this sort of relationship, but I had an idea and had to run with it.

Credit for making this wonderful pic goes to @zzk13122

Follow me here, Subscribestar, or Allmylinks to stay updated!

Another random place too: @wittle5i55ybaby Just in case.

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safination · 8 days

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Partners in Death...and Life.

Part 7: Me and You In Eternity

|Part 6: Radio's Last Broadcast||Part 8: Coming Soon!| |Masterlist| Ao3| Taglist| Pairings: Alastor x Wife!Reader Series Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason. Tags: fem!Reader, AFAB, Established Relationship, Asexual! Alastor, Alastor is in hell for a reason, Reader is in hell for a reason, dishes, being a simp for your partner, Asexual! Alastor, husband! Alastor. My classes started already. That's why it took a while to pop this out. Have fun with this. I'm pleased to announce that there will be two chapters left. So a part 8 and 9. (Hopefully). It will finally cover the last episode of the season

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Four Weeks Before The Extermination

Someone swipes a thumb over your cheek. The strokes are hesitant, but filled with a gentle purpose.

Your eyes flutter open. It’s all blurry.

There’s a figure standing above you. Some small part of your soul wants to give in. It wants to believe it’s Alastor who stares down at you, capturing your gaze with the reddest of eyes. That it’s him who caresses your face with a softness that has you leaning into his touch. How cruel of your mind to play a trick on the flickers of your soul—the very same soul that continues to yearn for the missing.

What a cruel, yet old trick. It can’t fool you, not anymore.

You reach out for Alastor, poking your fingers on the edges of his lips to force a smile. This Alastor shows you the widest smile as he takes his thumb and runs it over your eyelids.

It’s wet.

Another lonely tear threatens to fall out. He brushes it away before it could get too far. The warmth of his thumb transfers to your skin.

You scramble backwards, distancing yourself. The questions thread through your mind. It distracts you, pulling your focus on the important facts. Here’s a fact: The bed doesn’t span as wide as you think it does. The edge looms closer. Still, you persevere with the quest to stumble backwards, far away from Alastor and the tears he’s been wiping away.

The chance to fall never arrives.

Alastor slithers out of the shadows, catching you in his arms with ease. “Hi.”

The back of your fingers trails down the skin of his cheek. It’s very real and very solid. There’s nothing else to say except, “Hi.”

“Terrible shift at work?” Alastor asks you with a smile the displays the yellow staining his teeth. “You weren’t in such a state when I left yesterday.”

You don’t know how to respond to him.

Alastor carries you to the vanity table, moving his thumb up and down the bare skin of your knees. It’s the smallest of acts. Sometimes, you wonder if he’s aware of such an action. The topic never gets mentioned in feat he would stop.

Alastor waves his hands, opening them wide to drop you with an annoying flare. There’s an audible ‘thump’ when your ass connects to the cushioned but hardwood chair. It earns Alastor a glare, which he immediately responds to with that smug and self-satisfied smile of his.

It seems there’s a stray feather clinging on your scalp. It’s made aware to you when Alastor picks it out for you.

His eyes turn to the radio playing on the vanity table. It’s kept playing during the night. “Are you just playing static on this one?” Alastor asks, twisting the knob to switch it off. “It isn’t tuned to any registered stations.”

The hand smoothening your feathers isn’t a cruel trick. It’s as solid and as real as it should be.

“Playing static for extended periods of time will damage the speakers,” he says, lips twisting. Alastor and his radios—always so particular, even in death. “What do you have to say for yourself? I’m worried about how you’ve been caring for all our other radios.”

“I play the static as a white noise,” you say, and it’s the only thing your pride allows you to comment on the topic. “It helps me sleep.”

Alastor takes the brush next to the radio. The soft bristles run through your scalp. He untangles the twisted feathers, smoothening the ones that poke out. Alastor’s much gentler on your feather than you ever would be. It’s quite the sight to see how careful the Radio Demon is not to tug on his wife’s scalp.

Alastor runs the feather between his fingers, untangling the harsher knots.

“When did you…,” you start and trail off when you notice how hoarse you sound. Does Alastor notice it as well? “When did you get home? I didn’t hear you come in.”

Alastor catches your gaze from the reflection of the mirror. “I used my keys,” he says. “You said not to knock. It’s quite nice to know you haven’t changed our locks.”

There’s a small box on the vanity table. The paint on the wood faded decades ago, only leaving streaks of dull colors. You grab it, twirling it around your fingers. “What brings you by?”

“Was it not you who told me it’s not a visit when it’s your own home?” Alastor wags his fingers, shaking his head with such vigor it’s almost mocking. It probably is meant to be mocking.

The box goes back on the table.

Alastor allows you to intertwine your fingers on his free hand. This definitely isn’t some trick.

“Good morning, my deer,” you say, pressing your face into his very real hand. “I’m happy to see you, more than you know, but I have this feeling you aren’t here to tell me all about how you’re going to be living with me again.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he says, studying your face. There’s nothing much to pick apart when only a simple smile paints your face. “I’m here to take you to the hotel with me. It would be convenient to do all the preparations there.”

You shake your head, trying to release your hold on his hand.

Alastor refuses to release his hold on you, even as you give it a slight tug. It forces you to intertwine your fingers once more.

“I have work.”

Alastor drops the brush rather than releasing his hold on you.

He snaps his fingers, and a piece of paper pops into his hand. “How convenient then that I happen to have a signed and official letter from the Princess of Hell granting you one month off from work,” he says. “I’ve taken the liberties of sending a copy to Management.”

Alastor takes a step back when you reach for the letter. He doesn’t get far, considering how tightly your hands are linked together.

He inches his face closer, the paper still far away from your grasps. “Are you not forgetting something?”

You press a kiss on the edge of his lips, letting it linger longer than it should, and grab the paper from Alastor when his ears perk up.

It’s a proper and formal letter. It’s free from any squiggles or smiley faces. There’s only one type of ink instead of a barrage of crayons and markers. You read through the lines of paragraphs then study Charlie’s signature.

Alastor grabs the brush to continue his work. “I was referring to a ‘thank you, deerest’ or a ‘How absolutely wonderful of you. You’re such an amazing husband, my deer’ as basic manners dictate, but I guess a kiss shall do.”

You roll your eyes, but press another kiss on his cheek.

It’s easy to push off Alastor’s hand from your scalp. It’s even easier to jump back into bed, and tug the blanket over your head. Doing so undoes all of Alastor’s careful brushing. There are wet patches staining your pillow. It’s something you ignore immediately in favor of pretending its existence isn’t real.

“Come on, now.” The bed dips from Alastor’s weight. “We have a full morning ahead of us! There’s breakfast, then the matter of packing presentable clothes, and getting you settled.”

Presentable clothes? All your clothes are presentable! They’re more than presentable! It’s him who wears the tacky bow ties and striped coats. Alastor saw how red his eyes and hair became and decided to lean into the whole thing.

“We can nap as much as you want once you’ve gotten your things sorted.”

“I’m going to sleep in,” you say, ignoring the wobble in your voice. Every single fiber you own wants Alastor to ignore it as well. “Go away. I’ll just meet you at the hotel on my own time. I’m sure there’s work for you to keep you busy there.”

A single tear drips to the pillow. He shouldn’t be here, not when control threatens to slip from your grasps. Alastor isn’t allowed to see the cracks. You shouldn’t let him see them, not when he wouldn’t like it.

“Look at me,” he says, tugging on the blanket. “My love, come on, look at me. There’s no point in being stubborn.”

You shake your head, bringing out your arm to show him how beautiful your middle finger is.

It’s easy to see his annoyance, even from underneath the blanket. Alastor’s lips will close into a strained smile. This one will replace his usual unsettling smile. His eyes will squint and twitch as he furrows his brows with controlled tolerance. And there it is, right on cue—the faint static.

Alastor rips the blanket off you.

There’s a neutral expression forced onto your face, even as your eyes remain shut. It’s a simple act to pretend there isn’t a lonely tear leaving your eyes. Maybe if you ignore the tear trailing down your skin, Alastor won’t see it drip to the pillow.

He brushes the next one away, and secures the blanket around your shoulders. It’s such a simple detail that can be ignored, but Alastor adjusts the blanket, tugging on the ends to cover everything…except your face.

There’s nowhere to hide anymore. It doesn’t stop you from keeping your eyes snapped shut, and ignoring the single tear sliding down your cheek with a blank expression. You’re not supposed to show him the cracks. What are you doing?

“Look at me?” Alastor asks you, running his thumb over your eyelids.

These eyes of yours heed to him. Denying Alastor is an ability that you do not possess. Not in life, and surely, not in death.

Alastor holds your face with both his hands, still intent on wiping away the wet streaking your cheek. “We can stay here for a minute,” he says. “Don’t turn me away.”

It’s as much of a command as it is a plea.

“Will it cost me?” you ask him, leaning into the warmth of his hold. “I think I have a spare soul lying around.”

He brushes a stray feather away from your face. “Just a smile will suffice.”

“Only a minute?”

“We can stay here for a lifetime if you wish.” The bed dips further when he inches closer to press a kiss on your forehead. “Smile for me.”

You show Alastor a smile that could rival the very stars themselves.

The coat slides off his shoulders, and he tosses the thing over the back of a chair. Alastor peels the blanket off your shoulder to slot himself underneath, pressing himself oh so close to you.

There’s no need to question the tears, not when you’ve had decades to ponder on the answer. It’s an event that’s been inscribed to the story of you and him, and its existence demands your very soul to mourn.

What is grief if not the time that never was—the time that was never allowed to be?

All the time spent washing the dishes alone. All the time spent cooking a meal for one. All the time spent sleeping in a bed made for two, but houses one. It’s that very same unspent time that gathers up in the corner of your eyes, and trails down your cheek only for Alastor to wipe it away.

Alastor intertwines his fingers with yours, thumbing your ring finger. “Did you lose your wedding ring?” he asks. “Ha! I always knew you would be the first one to do so.”

“It’s on the nightstand,” you say, giving him a kick. Alastor uses this opportunity to hook your legs, trapping it to tangle them with his own.

He releases his hold on your hand to slip the cool metal around your finger. The ring slots back to where it belongs. Alastor traces it, feeling how the ring fits into your fingers.

Alastor pulls on your shoulder, hoisting you until your head lays directly on top of his chest. Every breath he takes raises your head up and down. Up and down and up and down and up and down—as it should be.

You ball your fist and smack his chest lightly. “Alastor.”

“Yes?”

“Alastor.” You smack his chest once more. Still, it goes up and down and up and down and up and down.

“What is it, my dear?” he asks you in a voice that is oh so soft and very, very, alive.

“Alastor…,” you call out to him, letting his name leave your lips like a prayer. “Alastor.”

“Yes?” His thumb brushes over a tear that refuses to be hidden.

Alastor smiles at you, his yellow teeth displayed as he stares into you. It’s no longer brown, but red. That’s not important. The color will never be important. His eyes are here and they’re looking at you. Nothing’s changed—nothing important at least. To you, these red eyes still shine brighter than starlight.

“You keep answering me.” You squeeze his hand.

Alastor squeezes back. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Alastor.”

“Yes?”

“Will you keep answering me?”

He takes a moment to think, letting the silence ring as he draws out his answer. “It’s quite compelling to stop,” he says. “I can practically see it. Your brows will furrow, and these lips of your will twist in a laughable attempt to conceal a frown. It would ruffle all your feathers right off your scalp!”

“Alastor?” you ask.

“Yes,” he answers.

There’s work to be done. It forces you to have to pull yourself away from the lifetime that should have been, and start the day. Alastor has to re-brush the tangled feathers. If he has any complaints, he doesn’t voice them. It takes a few minutes more to pick up the feathers that fell to the floor, and throw them in the trash.

He takes your hand, and brings you to the kitchen.

Breakfast is whatever’s left inside the refrigerator. Alastor, somehow, manages to create a proper and relatively healthy meal for you to consume. The first bite of scrambled eggs brings a smile. It’s the same eggs you’ve used for yourself, but somehow, this one is the best eggs you have ever tasted.

It’s been years since you’ve had a proper meal on this dinged up table. The turmeric stains have faded into a small yellow. The cracks on the table have rounded with dullness. Most meals were eaten at work or in front of the television.

“How was your day?”

Alastor leans on the palm of his hand, watching you eat. “That’s a question reserved for dinner.”

“It’s a question from when I wasn’t able to witness the happening of your day,” you say. “Will you not be next to me from now on? What’s there to ask when I will be there to see how the rest of your day will go?”

“There isn’t much to say,” Alastor says, tracing the dents on the table. “I awoke quite early, got dressed, dropped by your workplace, and then went straight to our home.”

There’s a smug smile on your lips. It’s not something you’re keen on hiding. “Were you that excited to bring me to the hotel?”

“Eat your eggs.”

You take a bite off your meal, doing as he says. It’s seasoned perfectly. When you cook, its either too salty or tasteless. You never did get around to figuring out the perfect amount, but it seems Alastor was able to solve the mystery of how much salt to add. “I’m not hearing a ‘no’.”

“Eat your eggs.”

You take another bite, and point the fork at him. “I’m still not hear—”

“And you never shall,” Alastor says, grabbing the fork to push another mouthful of eggs into your mouth. “So, just eat your eggs.”

He keeps the fork with him the whole meal, shoving food into your mouth to prevent further questioning.

Inside the sink, an assortment of bowls and tiny plates and pans are neatly arranged. There are ten dishes neatly piled, minus the pot and the pan (of course). It’s twelve with the pot and pan. All this for a simple plate of scrambled eggs.

Alastor presents his work to you with a wave of his hands and a proud smile.

This has you barking out a laugh.

Your eyes shut once more, because despite the laughter, it seems this tear is determined to fall. “How absolutely dumb of me. I don’t know what’s gotten over me this morning,” you tell him, even if you do know. “I guess work was a bit much yesterday.”

“There’s nothing stupid about you,” he says, wiping the next tear. “I’ll go wash this mess.”

“So, you do admit it!” you say, sticking your tongue out. “Are you finally going to admit that you made a mess?”

“I never have and I never will. Go to the living-room,” he says, and his ears flicker with the smallest of movements. It would be an easy miss had you been any other Sinner. “…I’ll handle this for you.”

You show Alastor the brightest smile when you press your lips on his cheek. “I think you’re mistaken, my deer. I’m incredibly happy right now,” you say. “Can we finish the dishes together?”

Alastor’s shadow pokes your leg thrice.

It looks at you with a jagged smile, fiddling with its shadow fingers. The shadow waves you at you in a way that has you waving back. It points to its cheek and looks at you with as much expectancy as a shadow could produce.

“Oh dear,” you say, smiling at the shadow. “I keep forgetting about you. Would you forgive me if I made it up to you?”

The shadow crosses its arm, pointing its nose to the air with a frown.

It’s an easy thing to position your shadow. Just a step back and careful angling makes the shadow of your lips cross past its cheek and presses a kiss on its own shadowy lips. Look at you now—feather on your scalp, four fingers on your hand, and smooching the shadow of your husband.

“Have I earned your forgiveness?” you ask. “Or shall it take another?”

The shadow offers a thumbs up, its shadowy smile somehow becoming even wider.

Alastor summons his microphone with a distracting type of flare, and strikes the edge on his own shadow. The poor thing scampers back into him with lowered ears.

You raise your eyebrows at Alastor.

Alastor leans forward on his microphone, using it as a cane, and shows you’re his most innocent smile.

You press another kiss on the edge of his mouth. What an absolutely silly man to be married to.

Alastor grabs your hand, and all twelve dishes are cleaned with only one usable hand. It takes longer than it should. The inefficiency of having one functional hand slows the whole process.

The dishes get done. Even if the bowls and plates have to be held out and supported for Alastor to sponge, the dishes get done. No matter how long it will take, the dishes will be completed together.

The coffee mugs warm your hand.

There it is again, the ever present, ‘Two’. One for you and one for him. You and him. Him and you. It seems there won’t be any wasted coffee beans today.

Alastor’s outside, seated on the steps of the porch. The legs on this body are far longer than his old ones. It forces him to stretch them out to sit comfortably on the steps. There’s a smile directed at you when Alastor receives his coffee mug. And if Alastor was a silly man, then you are a silly, silly woman. Even after decades, it makes you giggle like a bumbling school-girl.

You take the seat next to him, staring at the reddened morning sky. “My, most, deer,” you say, calling out for him. “Do you miss the sun or the moon or the stars?”

“It’s not something I think about.”

“Ask me if I miss it,” you say, bumping your shoulders with his and showing off your most innocent smile.

Alastor rolls his eyes. “Do you miss the sun or the moon or the stars?”

The coffee mug gets discarded to the steps in favor of grabbing his face with your hands. The pads of your thumb go up and down the skin of his cheeks. “I don’t, actually,” you say with a smile that could rival the sun. “I have all of it right here in the palm of my hands.”

The laughter from his microphone mixes with his own laughter. Even his shadow chuckles at your words. “You are the most ridiculous person to be able to sit next to,” he tells you. “Did you ask me just to be able to say all that?”

“I did, actually.”

“And how long have you been waiting to say that?”

“Hmmm,” you say, taking one long sip of coffee to delay your answer. “Five or six years, give or take.”

Alastor’s original voice bleeds into his words. “Years?” he says, wheezing as his eyes bulge out in different directions. “You’ve been waiting to say that for years?

You lean your head on the palm of your hand, watching Alastor take a sip of his coffee to calm himself. When was the last time you had a morning as lively as this one? “Well, it was only ever meant for you to hear.”

Alastor flicks your nose. “No flirting before coffee’s been finished,” he says. “You should already know this.”

“Then hurry up,” you start, rubbing your nose, “and finish it then.”

He takes a small but long sip.

It makes you think he’ll drag out finishing his coffee, but Alastor throws the rest of his obviously, very full, coffee behind his shoulder. The drink splatters to the plants. He smiles at you like there isn’t coffee dripping down the leaves and into the soil.

“Look who’s being ridiculous now,” you say. “My coffee isn’t finished yet. So, I guess you’re going to have to sit there and wait.”

You take small and drawn-out sips, showing off just… how…slow…you…will take to finish.

“Horrible dream earlier?” Alastor asks you with a smile that shows off all his teeth, staring at how he fiddles with the handles of his mug.

“Not one bit!” you exclaim, taking a gulp of coffee. “It was a good one.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” he says, bumping your knees with his. “What wonderful things did your mind dream about?”

“Well, this is a dream I’ve decided to keep to myself,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Although, I think it’s one of the best ones I’ve had in a very long time.”

Alastor brushes his thumb over your eyelids, even if the tears stopped slipping. “Then why?”

“Because,” you begin, leaning into how gently he caresses you, “the dream ended too soon.”

Alastor snatches the mug around your fingers, throwing the content behind his shoulders. The coffee splashes to the plants. “It seems you’ve finished your coffee.”

“That’s wasting!”

“I’ll brew you another cup at the hotel,” he says, smiling at you. “But as of now, you’ve officially finished your coffee.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips. “Can I be greedy?”

Alastor picks a feather out of your head. “As little or as much as you want,” he tells you. “Anything you could ever want and anything you could ever wish for—it will be yours.”

“You promised me a kiss when you came home,” you say. “I think I’d like to cash that in now.”

Alastor studies your face, holding you in the palms of his hands. “And when did I do such a silly thing?”

You place your hand on top of his own, nuzzling deeper into his hold. Home has never felt more like home until this very minute. “I guess it must have been something I dreamed up,” you say. “Are you still willing to fulfill your promise?”

Alastor presses a kiss on the crown on your feathers. “I was in this dream of yours?”

“You always are, especially when you have this special talent of finding my last nerve and tap dancing all over it,” you say with a snort. “So, are you going to fulfill your promise? A proper kiss this time, please.”

“A doting husband always does so.”

“I never said that.”

“You did.”

The wind blows as you sit on the steps. It pushes feathers to your face. Alastor tucks them away, letting the loose strands flow through his fingers. He holds your face, and you would like to believe that his fingers were carved to perfectly fit along the outline. It could also be the other way around.

Even in this lifetime, his lips are chapped. The cracks poke you when Alastor hover above, brushing his mouth ever so slightly on the skin of your cheek.

You pull on his monocle, discarding the thing to the plants. It gets in the way of how deep you press yourself into his skin. Soft exhales mix together. Alastor’s nose pokes you as he brushes his face across the outline of your face.

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, allowing his lips to linger for what seems like a lifetime.

The next kiss lands on your other cheek.

Alastor torments you, demanding so much space in your soul that it’s become filled with him and only him. In life. In death. In the in betweens and the afters.

A kiss to the forehead.

A kiss on the edges of your lips.

Alastor runs his thumb over the soft skin of your mouth, and your eyes flutter to a close when he finally connects your lips. The pads of his thumb go up and down into a gentle caress as he presses kiss after kiss. Your arm snakes around his back, drawing spirals on his back as you pull him into a hug.

The kisses he blesses you with are slow. It’s like he savors each and every one. Alastor kisses you like there’s no place he would rather be than using the language of your rings to write you a poem.

It’s you who pulls away first. You’re being greedy, demanding too much affection from him.

You smile at him.

Alastor smiles back at you, and leans back into a kiss, pulling you closer by the neck.

There have been lifetimes of tomorrows and there will still be many more tomorrows to experience.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Two Weeks Before The Extermination.

There’s no television in this room. The lack of modern technology in Alastor’s room isn’t even the problem…you just…really miss that television.

Sure, soap operas are trash. So, what? Who cares if it doesn’t make sense that Mara and Clara are sisters? Or how a perfectly normal couple can suddenly birth a blue child that’s able to heal people with tears? Like yes, that’s not how holy water works. It’s the dumbest thing ever, but entertaining trash is still entertaining.

Alastor refuses to breathe the same air as a television, going as far as to avoid them even with you present in the room. No amount of begging or pouting convinced him to watch a single episode. You could just watch it alone, but that would mean you would be…alone.

The low dim of the fireplace and the soft music playing on the radio join to create this cozy morning atmosphere. The warm coffee around your fingers and the soft cushion of the armchair tit the whole scene together.

Something hoots from Alastor’s bayou.

That’s totally not creepy—not one bit. It does not bring a chill up your spine, and there’s totally no reason to dig yourself deeper into this plush cushion. You refused to step one foot into his bayou, preferring to stay in the part of the room that actually resembles a room. Not even the tempting offer of a picnic has you agreeing to go past the wooden floor. If Alastor refuses to watch television shows with you, then you won’t bring a single feather into his bayou.

Alastor smiles at you from the armchair across, drinking coffee like there aren’t trees and unknown animals spilling into his room.

A hesitant knock sounds from the door.

“Can I come in?” Char’s muffled voice calls from beyond the wood. “Wait, are you guys away? Oh gosh. Should I just come back later?”

You glance at the clock, checking the time then slide your eyes to Alastor. “If we stay silent, do you think Charlie will assume we’re sleeping?”

“That would be rude, my dear.”

Alastor stands from his chair, placing the coffee mug on the little table. There’s a smile on his face as he smoothens the lines of his dress pants. He walks towards the door, taking long strides. It’s as if he’s showing off just how determined he is to open the thing.

With a twist of the doorknob, Charlie comes into view.

She stills by the entrance, and gives Alastor a small wave. There’s a bright but hesitant smile on her lips. Charlie fiddles with her fingers, staring at Alastor as he blocks the opened door with his body. It keeps her from fully entering.

An awkward type of silence rises to the air.

“Al, stop messing with the poor girl, and bring her in,” you say after five painful minutes of awkward silence. It takes three long sips of coffee to kill the laughter that threatens to escape. “Good morning, Charlie.”

Alastor grabs Charlie by the shoulders, and her heels scrape the wood as she’s dragged deeper into the room. There’s this hilarious frown on Charlie’s lips. Basic manners demand you stifle all laughter. It’s simply not right to laugh at the owner of the establishment currently housing you.

Alastor offers Charlie the free arm chair. “Care to take a seat?”

“Sure…thanks,” she says, blinking, It takes her a moment to settle on the cushion. “Sooooo, how are you liking your stay here? If there’s anything bothering you, just mention it to me. I’ll be happy to try and work out a solution.”

“There’s no need to do such a thing. You’ve been so accommodating towards me,” you tell her, brushing a stray feather away. “I appreciate how silent it is here. Loud noises tend to strain my ears.”

“I’ll be sure to keep any noise down,” Charlie says. “But I’m glad to see you seem to be enjoying yourself. I really appreciate how you join our activities as well!”

“It’s the least I can do.”

Alastor decides to sit his ass on your chair. He buries himself next to you, squeezing into a chair meant for one. You bump his legs, shoving him away to gain more personal space. It’s taken as an invitation, instead. Alastor presses even closer and takes up more space.

You bump his legs once more.

Again, Alastor squeezes closer.

There’s a strained smile on your lips when you turn back to Charlie. “I’ll tell you my secret as to why I’m enjoying myself,” you say, shoving him further away. “Any place tends to be nice when I wake up to Alastor’s snoring.”

He glares at you. “I do not snore.”

You cover your mouth as if whispering to Charlie. “He does,” you say with a lowered voice just to be infuriating. “It’s the faintest of static. It just comes out of him.”

“Whatever can we do for you?” Alastor tells Charlie, smiling as he places a hand on your shoulder. “My wife will be happy to fulfill each and every one of your requests! She’s quite handy with a sponge. Although, keep your bowls away.”

You dig your elbow into his side.

Alastor elbows you back.

“I’m actually here for the both of you. “There’s this questions that couples ask each other, and it’s supposed to deepen their relationship.” Charlie twiddles her thumbs. “I want to try them with Vaggie. Can I go through the questions with you guys first? Tell me if there are any stupid questions.”

Alastor’s smile widens to show off his teeth. “There are some bulk items we need—”

“Nonsense! I will be happy to fulfill each and every one of your requests, apparently,” you say, placing a hand on Alastor’s shoulder. “And my husband would agree to anything that makes me happy. We would love to help you.”

Alastor elbows your side.

You return just as much as he gives. Maybe a little more.

There’s an adorable type of shine in Charlie’s eyes. Thank you…so much,” she says. “I’m so glad you guys are here. We are going to have so much fun!

Alastor’s coffee awaits to be finished. It’s still discarded on the table between the arm chairs. You reach for it and return his mug to him with a smile. There have been so many wasted cups of coffee-several years’ worth of coffee down the drain. There’s no need to waste anymore—not where Alastor smiles back at you.

“I think it’s endearing how you want to do this with Vaggie,” you say. “You should have seen how furious I was with Alastor—”

“When I lied” Alastor finishes for you. “Are we ever going to move past that? It’s been decades.”

“Never.”

Charlie tilts her head, furrowing her eyebrows. “Wait…,” she says, slowly. “You know Vaggie was an exorcist. How? You weren’t there when we announced it.”

Your eyes flicker to Alastor for the briefest of moments.

Alastor makes it a point no to look your way.

“You told her?” Charlie exclaims, gaping at him. “I mean…I’m not mad or anything. Vaggie thought it would be better to tell you afterwards or if you decided to stay permanently. We just didn’t want to scare you away.”

“I thought it was common knowledge already…?”

Alastor rolls his eyes, and the base of his ears flicker down with annoyance. “Dearest, when has anything I told you over morning coffee ever been ‘common knowledge’?”

“Well, I’ll tell you this ....It was common knowledge to everyone when Ally from neuro cheated on her girlfriend.”

“Do tell!” Alastor takes a sip of coffee. “Don’t keep us in suspense.”

“The room they were in? It happened to be one that had an intercom that connected to the whole building,” you say, laughing. “Every little sound was broadcasted to every floor!”

Charlie’s eyes bulge a little, and she leans ever so closer.

Alastor reaches over you, grabbing the coffee pot. A snap of his fingers, and a whole new coffee mug appears in his hand. There’s a filled mug being handed to Charlie. She takes it without thinking, leaning on the edge of her seat.

“That isn’t even the worst part,” you say, fiddling with the handle of the mug. “The person Ally was with? The father.”

“The father?” Charlie echoes with disbelief. “That’s horrible!”

“Oh, my dear, it was. Believe me…it was,” you say. “What a horrible day to have ears.”

“So how did the girlfriend react?”

You press your shoulder closer to Alastor, slightly leaning your weight on him. “The girlfriend works as an accountant for the hospital and heared the whole thing. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time her father’s done suc—”

“Shall we head to the questions?” Alastor grabs the coffee pot, taking it upon himself to refill all the mugs. “There are actually some deliveries that need to be arranged.”

Charlie blinks and leans back into the cushions of the arm chair. “Right…Yes, of course.” She brings out her phone, swiping down the screen. “I guess we should just jump right in?”

“Go ahead.”

“Okay…The first question asks you what your most treasured possession could be.”

There’s a box on top of Alastor’s fireplace. It’s hidden in plain sight, blending with all the other stray items he likes to keep as decorations. The painted designs faded years ago. It should have been left at home, but you found yourself pocketing the box to take with you.

“It’s just this old box,” you say, studying the rim of the mug. “It’s quite expensive. It took at least forty-years to save up for it.”

“Oh, what’s inside?”

“That wasn’t the question.” You take a sip of coffee, letting the liquid slosh down your esophagus. “I believe it’s your turn now, deerest.”

Alastor loves his personal space. It’s something he makes perfectly clear. However, it seems he also loves your personal space. He places an arm around your shoulders, shaking your like a rattle “Why, it’s right here” he exclaims. “I couldn’t have asked for a better dishwasher despite the magnitude of broken bowls. It’s quite the attractive model.”

“Stop it.” You swat his hand when the coffee around your fingers threaten to spill. “Go finish your coffee.”

Alastor slides his eyes to Charlier, watching her reactions as he inches further into your personal space. “Should I change that rule?”

“It’s his microphone.” You push his face away, rolling your eyes at him. “He never goes anywhere without it, and hardly allows anyone to touch it.”

“I allow you to hold it all the time.”

The way you sip your coffee hides your smile. “I’m not just anyone, now, am I?”

Charlie groans in her palms, pushing strands of her hair behind her face. It’s funny to see how her lips twist into the adorable sort of frown.

“Oh, stop it.” Alastor flicks your nose. “Finish your coffee.”

The armchair squeezes the both of you into this small space. It’s much more comfortable to just press together. You lean closer into his personal space, allowing yours to mix with his, and wrap your arms around Alastor’s neck. The strands of his hair brush against your skin.

“Charlie…,” you begin, inching closer, “be a good girl and close your eyes.”

There’s a loud groan escaping her mouth. She sulks into the chair as if she was being deflated. “Seriously?”

“Go on,” Alastor says, urging her with a smile. He leans ever so slightly into you.

Charlie closes her eyes.

There’s a stray strand that slides down Alastor’s hair. You brush it away, letting the strands flow through your fingers. There’s a smile on your face when you press a kiss on the edge of his mouth. It lingers longer than it should.

The tips of Alastor’s ears flicker, and you snatch his mug. It gets tossed into the fireplace

Alastor grabs your chin with the tips of his fingers, and steals a kiss.

“Can I continue now, or should I just leave?” Charlie snorts, eyes firmly shut. “I swear, Mom and Dad were exactly like this—it’s kind of cute.”

Alastor presses one last kiss on your cheek. “Let’s continue!”

The mug around your fingers gets snatched. Alastor takes a sip of coffee. It seems this is a shared coffee mug now. “You can open your eyes now.”

Charlie stares at the both of you, taking one good look and sighs. The phone’s pulled out again as she reads the next question. “Is there a personality trait or skill that the other possesses that you wish you had.”

“I do wish I could be as proficient with words as you are.” You take the shared coffee mug from Alastor and take a mouthful. “The most horrible things come out of your mouth in such a poetic way.”

“That’s too sweet.”

“And quite the ridiculous question,” Alastor says, rolling his eyes. “If there’s a trait or skill I want, then I simply acquire them or someone who can. There’s no use wondering about such things”

You snort at him. “Well, humility certainly isn’t a trait you would wish to possess.”

“Charlie, close your eyes.” Alastor inches closer, pressing his weight into you. There isn’t enough space in the arm chair to lean away.

There’s that hilarious frown on Charlie’s lips again, but she does as she’s told. “Again? Will you be doing this every time?”

Alastor leans away, and drinks a mouthful of coffee. A delighted hum escapes him as he savors the taste.

It’s quite peaceful. There’s this type of silence that takes over. One meant to be enjoyed during the early mornings. The crackle of the fireplace and the soft tunes of the radio blend into the background of the scene. You chuckle at Alastor and drink from the mug when he offers it to you. The morning becomes peaceful once more. You and Alastor squeeze into an armchair made for one, drinking coffee in silence.

Charlie squirms in her seat with closed eyes.

It takes five minutes of silence for her to summon the courage to speak up

“Uh…” Charlie plays with the ends of her ponytail, twirling the loose strands of her hair around her fingers. “I hope you’re aware that I’m…you know…still here?”

You bark a laugh, leaning your head on Alastor’s biceps. “You can open your eyes now.”

Her eyes peek open, slow and hesitant.

Loud laughter echoes around the room and into the bayou. “I apologize, sweetheart. We’re just pulling your leg,” you say. “Let’s continue on to the next question?”

Charlie rolls her eyes and brings out her phone once more. “Alright then…Is there something you’ve been keeping from each other?” she asks. “Oh, I guess it’s like a secret or a confession you haven’t mentioned before.”

An answer pops into your mind. It demands to be said out loud. That demand is ignored. Who does it think it is to ask you to heed against its requests?

“I think you own too many radios,” you tell Alastor instead. It’s a safe answer. “There certainly doesn’t need to be three in the bathroom.”

Charlie tilts her head. “Why would you need three?”

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself for the last few decades of our marriage,” you say. “Sometimes, I think he can hear me through the speakers.”

“Alastor can’t actually do that, right?” Charlie glances at him. “…Right?”

Alastor grabs your face, squishing your cheeks. His eyes flicker all over your face, studying your every reaction. “You thought of something.”

The sound of your heartbeat echoes in your ears. “I thought of the radios in the bathroom.”

“What did you think about?” Alastor says, shaking your cheeks. “I know when you lie to me, dearest.”

Charlie gives you a thumbs up with a bright smile.

“Answer the question, my love.”

The sound of your heartbeat echoes louder. The answer refuses to be held back, coerced by Alastor’s demand. You pull Alastor’s hand off your cheeks. “I broke your piano.”

The confession lifts a weight off your chest.

“I was just at home.” Alastor squints at you. “Our piano is fine.”

You sulk into the cushion of the arm chair. “I meant the piano at the old house.”

“How did you even manage to break one of those?” Charlie asks. “Those things are quite large.”

It’s somehow possible to hide yourself deeper into the chair cushion. “I used Alastor’s bat and just…swung.”

“Oh! Oh! This would be a great opportunity,” she says, eyes shining. “Would you like to say anything to Alastor?”

There’s quite a lot you would like to say. “I apologize for breaking your piano.”

“And how did that feel?”

“Great, actually. I’ve been keeping this for decades.” It’s impossible to keep the lid of secrets now that it’s open. “Is this the wrong time to say I used the bat to smash your radios?”

The mug shatters from Alastor’s grip. The shards fall to the wooden floor.

Alastor pulls out a handkerchief. It has his name neatly embroidered. He wipes his hands, drying the drips of coffee. There’s a pleasant smile on his face. That’s totally not worrying.

Alastor stands and suddenly, the armchair sits one. He places a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Can you give me and my wife a moment?”

Charlie’s eyes slide to you as she rises to her feet.

The way you shake your head with vigor strains your neck. You try to send Charlie a message. Please don’t leave. Charlie, stay here! Please stay.

Alastor doesn’t allow Charlie the opportunity to respond.

He grabs her by the shoulders. Once more, her heels scrap the floor as she’s dragged to the door. It would be funny if you aren’t calculating how much scolding you were to receive.

You fucked up. Oh, you fucked up big time.

The door locks, and your sentence seals.

Alastor’s fingers linger at the doorknob. The base of his antlers grows…then it shrinks. The pattern continues for one long minute. It grows and shrinks as if Alastor doesn’t fully know what to do with them.

Symbols glitch into the air. It disappears just as quickly as it manifested.

The sound of cracking bones catches your ears. It has you sulking into the cushions of your chair, a pout on your lips.

The expansion of limbs and the slow growth of antlers forces you to press your hands into your face. You peek at Alastor through the slits of your fingers. His antlers are so long now, growing like tree branches. Faint stitching outlines the edges of his cheek as he smiles with sharpened teeth. The lines around his body sharpen with an edge to it

Static buzzes around the room. It emanates from the radios, and from Alastor himself. Tingles run down your skin. Alastor takes wide steps as his body continues to crack with expansion. “Let’s have a talk.”

The lights flicker all around, and a faint green glows into the room.

You shake your head, still peeking at him through your fingers.

His left eye morphs into radio dials. Alastor blinks and his pupils return to their original form. Another blink, and the full force of the radio dials gaze into your soul.

“…Deerest,” you mumble into your palms. “If you continue to look like that, talking will be the last thing I would want to do with you.”

Alastor’s neck snaps as he tilts his head. “Look at me

Once more, you shake your head and press deeper into your palms.

It takes a moment for his bones to snap back into place. The lights stop flickering, and his shadow pulls back into his body. Gone are the growing antlers, and the glowing radio dials to look into your soul.

Alastor takes your wrist, peeling it off your face. “Can we talk now?”

“I’m sorry about your stuff,” you say, quickly. “It wasn’t right of me to do so.”

There it is again. Alastor’s thumb goes up and down the bare skin of your wrists. It’s such a small act. Does he do this on purpose? Is he even aware of such a motion?

You give Alastor the most innocent smile you could produce. “I think this is an even worse time to mention that I burned down—”

“What, my house?” The tips of Alastor’s ears sharpen. “You burned down my house?”

Your lips twist as you sulk deeper into yourself. “Yes…?”

Alastor runs a hand over his hair and turns his back to you. The air glitches once more. It appears and disappears as if it’s unwanted. He runs another hand over his hair, and turns back to you with a sharp glare.

“You know what?” you say, and you can’t help but glare back. “No, I’m not sorry.”

“I hardly care if you feel sorry or if you don’t.” Alastor’s smile wobbles. “I could care less. Just stop saying it like that.”

“Like how?” you say, grumbling. “I’m confused right now. Do you want me to apologize or not?”

Alastor reaches for your hand, pulling it closer to him. He traces the cool metal of your ring. “Your piano. Your Radio. My house,” he says, and his smile strains ever so slightly. “You speak as if those weren’t all yours as well. As if it was only me in that house.”

Your thumb moves up and down to caress him. “Is that what’s been bothering you?”

Alastor pulls away from you. The smile on his face becomes one thin line as he squints with annoyance. His ears flick down. Alastor looks at everything except you. You have to hide your face into the palms of your hands. The heat of your face spreads all over. It seems Alastor’s correct—you are ridiculous.

Alastor begins to walk away, but you grab his hand to keep him in place.

Just a moment. That’s all you need.

You intertwine your fingers around his, refusing to release your hold. Just a moment. That’s all you need. The clock ticks, and you stay like this, hands intertwined for what seems like a lifetime.

Up and down. Up and down. Alastor’s thumb brushes you. Part of you hopes he never stops.

“It wasn’t…,” you begin, searching for the courage to continue. “It wasn’t right of me to destroy our piano, and our radios, and our bookshelves, and burn down…our home.”

Alastor kneels to search your eyes, tilting your chin to look at you. It’s still red, and still brighter than starlight. “What possessed you to do such a thing?”

You take his hand, playing with the tips of his fingers. There’s a ring on his finger that matches yours. You plant the gentlest of kisses on his ring. “It’s because of this.”

Alastor tilts his head, raising his eyebrows at you.

“It’s alright if you don’t understand. That was something I hope you will never have to find you,” you tell him, brushing your thumb on his face. “My love, I hope you will never understand.”

Alastor brushes a feather away from your face with a smile. The things you would do to keep him smiling. It doesn’t even have to be towards you. Just keep him smiling.

Please…Please never let him find out.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor’s love language is just being the biggest nuisance, and we love him for that. Taglist: @mybrainsautocorrect @ray-rook @valentique @qardasngan @valentique @teavibesaf @tobyisher3 @amoraneuro @okay-babe @alastorssimp @aestheticgals-blog @reikamasama @slaggylemon @lyralibra @holymusicalmothman @amoraneuro @littledolly2345 @b-o-n-e-daddy @infinitefox @ayyyyyy-vase @kny-kween @amoraneuro @obessivlyonline @@@@soohaneul @@stelen-sweethearts

#alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x wife!reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x wife reader #hazbin hotel imagines #asexual alastor #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin fanfics #hazbin hotel headcanons

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love-the-last-of-us · 1 year

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“This isn't the tragic suicide at the end of the play. I'm old, I'm satisfied and you were my purpose”

#the last of us #tlou #tlou spoilers #bill #frank #nick offerman #murray bartlett #season 1 #s01e03 #hbo #hbo series #gifs

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yaut-jaknowit · 1 year

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Can you please write Older yautja x f reader. Like a really big old yautja cheif. The reader is native american (not that it matters) and an overly energetic girl. Very fluffy n cuddly. Reader is whining about the cold and snuggles up to the elder n gets a little frisky he's grumpy but willing to help out. Thank you!

Pet names: Girly, little one, my girl, etc

Kinks: softdom, possesive, breeding, mild somnophilia

Hold You

Pairing: Woftik (Male Yautja) x AFAB Reader

Warnings: SMUT, softdom, possesive Yautja, breeding kink, light size kink, knotting, light aftercare, P in V, soft sex, fluff, use of very feminine pet names. You know the drill people lol

Word Count: 4516

Summary: Yautja Prime is a large planet. It sits in the designated zone for life to sprout. And life easily thrives all over the place. Even when a bitter cold takes over the poles. Woftik lives there with you. Life is great. Until the frozen lands are swallowed with a blizzard. All the two of you could possibly do was wait out the storm with each other.

Author Note: I'm so sorry this took a bit to get to. I had gotten caught up with a few self-interest writings. I do promise, I'm working on the ones that people have requested. Also, I do love all of your requests guys!

Masterlist

Ao3

In the middle of the equator and the poles of Yautja Prime, it had weather closer to earth. Closer to said poles, an actual four seasons will cycle every year of the planet. Though rare, some Yautjas will live up towards the poles. A select few clans have laid down claim to vast, cool plains of barren lands and ocean.

Off of the top of your head, you could remember the clan Woftik was part of and another his clan was affiliated with. Nacht Klinge and Snoq are the clan names. There were two more, you believed that survive in the colder climates. Truly, you didn’t mind the cold as much, enjoying on some days. While on others, you snuggled up to your Yautja and napped content.

Today was no different. A blizzard had wiped the Nacht Klinge clan off of the map currently. It was far too dangerous for even a Yautja to step foot outside without being lost. There wasn’t nothing out there worth the risk in the first place. Food, water, entertainment, warmth all bundled into one place. No one could drag you out there if they wanted to.

That meant, you found yourself pinned to Woftik’s meaty side. One of his thickly corded arms thrown heavily over your shoulders. Just the weight alone had you trapped. Woftik wasn’t moving anytime soon. It seemed, neither were you.

The Yautja had his eyes closed, ears open, and body sagged into the couch. Your little warmth wasn’t attentive but it had him satisfied. He let loose a rumble that vibrated across the expanse of his torso. You giggled and squirmed in your spot, unable to move much.

As time went on, the fire that Woftik had built sometime before, had dwindled. With the harsh cold threatening to breakdown the door and environment you lived in, you felt the crisp, frosty air biting at your exposed skin. Despite the blazing heat warming up your side, it wasn’t enough to hold it back. Your body was raked with a shiver. That caught Woftik’s attention.

His dark, almost black, brown eyes opening and flicked down to you. You gazed up at him with doe eyes. “It’s getting cold,” you explained and trembled again. It wasn’t on purpose.

Old Woftik grumbled, not out of annoyance, just a noise he regularly makes and lifted his arm off of you. His heat fleeting away the moment he did. This was an open opportunity though. You leaped off of the couch and raced over to the fireplace.

Orange, glowing embers produced heated that fell over your goose bumped skin. At this distance, the cold was chased away once more. You reached next to the mantle and grabbed three chopped logs, as much as possible. They were carefully placed on top of the dying fire. Next, you mindfully leaned in, still a safe distance away and gently blew.

It helped stroke the ember, pushing oxygen towards them. They grew bright with flames flickering to life once more. Those flames licked up at the logs a few times as you did this over and over. Until the logs finally caught the fire and burned. You smiled to yourself and stood back up. With one move, you pivoted around to face Woftik.

The elder was the spitting image of tranquility. Arms hanging on the back of the couch, legs spread far wider than necessary. His head leaned back and exposing his throat to you. Not a single muscle was tensed or twitching. Softly, his chest rose and fell with quiet breaths. You didn’t let your smile fade at the sight of him.

Instead, you skipped up to him. Woftik made a noise that kept solidifying his growing age. His Adam’s apple bobbing with the sound. You took the initiative to climb into his lap and straddle his wide waist.

Woftik didn’t move a muscle. Your hands touched at his midriff before sliding up to his wide shoulders. For a male, this Yautja was massive in mass and height. He rivaled a few females that live among his clan. Yet, Woftik’s color has been adapted to his environment over decades of living here.

An off color of white painted his skin. Though white was considered a curse among many of the clans that lived towards the equator. For him, it was a gift. To hunt and live in a climate this harsh and deadly required skill and great camouflage. Maybe that’s why he’s chief of the Nacht Klinge clan.

Similar to all of his kind, he was only adorned with a loin cloth – albeit thicker. The bulky size of him kept him far warmer than you in this kind of weather. Another adaptation for the climate. If he were outside when the weather was normal, a furred covering would hang from his shoulders. Woftik would wear shoes as well. It was too cold for him to go bare foot like the rest of his kind at the equator.

In the safety of Woftik’s dwelling, he sat almost naked and lax. You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your chest against his. A short purr vibrated from deep within his barrel torso. You quietly laughed and shook your head.

With the newly rebuilt fire rewarming the house once more, you softened against Woftik. One of his massive arms encircled your form. It kept you snug to him. You release a sigh of content, a hidden smile gracing your features. Barely above a whisper, you mummer, “love ya, ya big giant.” Woftik’s arm flexed just a hair. You felt it though and didn’t let your turned up lips fall.

The temperature continued to drop throughout the day. It sapped up your heat, even your own Yautja started to feel that annoying bite at his heels. He threw his other arm over you, encasing your frame. You canted your hips to scoot forward, to somehow press yourself into his skin. Maybe, somehow get underneath it to steal all of his warmth.

You stuttered with a gasp at the accidently stimulation of your clit skirting across Woftik’s loin cloth. An all too familiar heat bloomed over you features. A new fire sparking to life deep within your stomach. You whined and snuggled deeper into him. This time, you grounded your hips down on purpose. Your eyes rolled back. Woftik’s deadly claws poked into your feeble flesh.

Now, with the feeling starting a fire across your skin, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. About him. It would help keep you warm in this weather, fire or not. You let an arm fall from around his neck and settled on his navel, nails lightly scratching. “Woftik,” you softly cry his name before picking up your head to look at him in the eye. He was already peering down at you, mandibles tense. You had started a gentle fire, not the one in the fireplace.

“What do you want, little one?” he muttered lowly and bent down the best he could. His face was close to yours. You felt the warm, moist exhale flutter over your features. He was close enough to make out the texture of his dark eyes. Darker than usual as need grew within them.

A heavier blush blanketed your cheeks at the name he called you. One he didn’t let fade. Woftik shifted his hands to engulf your hips. With those limbs, he forced you to grind up against him. You sucked in a sharp breath of air between your clenched teeth. “I asked you a question, girly.” You keened quietly and ducked underneath his chin to hide in his neck. But the white Yautja wasn’t gonna let that happen.

With a hand, he pinched your jaw and softly brought you back out. “Little one,” he spoke with a hardened, lax tone. You couldn’t help your hips jutting forward, knocking your clothed cunt against the slowly growing bulge in his pants. Woftik squeezed your chin for a moment before untensing.

“You,” you quietly stated. Woftik was eating this up like a hungry, starved man. From the usual bouncing, talking ooman on daily basis you were, to this. Such a nervous, needy, little ooman, embarrassed about asking for something so normal.

The old Yautja rumbled a noise of thinking. His dark eyes never leaving yours. “You already have me,” he stated a fact. Here you were, plopped on Woftik’s lap, humping against him like a needy little girl.

You keened with a pathetic whine and finally met his eyes. They begged for him silently. They were filled with emotions, flooding them fully. Woftik used a thumb to rub along your cheek bone. Your whole body went slack in his hold. “Yeah, I know. Such a good little ooman for me. Will you let me take you?” he whispered into the cooling living room. “I’ll keep you warm and safe with me.”

How could anyone say no to him when he speaks like that? Woftik was the best person – alien or not – you’ve ever met. His hands were gentle each time they laid on your feeble skin. His words always had you smiling or keening. His eyes had yours captured each time they met.

Your head was quick to nod. “I want you, love. Please, keep me warm.” To sell the whole show, you shivered, partially fake. Truly, it was dropping in temperature inside of his house.

Woftik grumbled a noise of old age and content before letting his hands skirt underneath your shirt. The blazing heat that radiated off of his skin left a hot trail of the skin he touched. As much as you wanted to hide in the safety of his neck, you didn’t want to part from his eyes. You searched through them and found all the love he had for you stored within them.

“Then, you’ll have me.” One of his hands roamed north before settling over the swell of one of your breasts. You sighed softly at the feeling. The hand on his navel scratching once more. The thick muscle there rippled at your touch. He didn’t let that distract him and run a talon mindfully over a pliant nipple. It immediately had blood rushing to it, growing hard underneath his administration. “Your body knows who I am, doesn’t it?” Your empty cunt clenched at his words.

A warm, short gush of slick dampened your underwear. A new flush of blood brushing over your cheeks. You couldn’t look him in the eye anymore and found the ground more interesting. “Sweet girl, look at me,” he called out to you. In return, you whine and kept your chin tucked down. “Come on, let me see your pretty eyes.”

Relenting, you lifted your head, eyes finding each other. “There’s my girl. I can smell you thick in the air-hey don’t look away now. There you go, keep your eyes on me. You smell like heaven.” Your heart thundered in your ears, almost drowning out his words. It stuttered in its bony cage. How could he talk… fuck you.

“Now, lets get these pants off of you.” Woftik helped lift you up and off of his lap. Your legs trembled at first when you added weight to them. With him right there though, he kept you up and removing your leggings at the same time. His arms flex with use of his muscles. Your lips pressed together, eyes roaming over him.

Once your leggings were tossed to the side, you shivered at the biting cold and leaped into Woftik’s lap. Without hesitancy, his large arms encased your form once more. You hummed at the skin-to-skin contact. “Hm, you’re so warm, love,” you muttered against the giant wall of muscle your head was laid on.

With your shirt still on, Woftik slid a hand underneath and had it returned to its original spot. A groan sounding from the back of your throat. His moves weren’t harsh or demanding, gentle like a waves lapping at a shore.

His free hand slipped between the apex of your plush thighs and cupped your moist core. A gasp tore at your throat from the sudden move. Your spine curved to pressed your hips more against him. He rumbled a chuckle and palmed at you. The move rubbed over your soak clit as his fingers teased your folds. One move and he could be buried inside of you. Yet, the Yautja didn’t let that happen. His digits just stayed still like a statue.

A whine built up in the back of your throat. “Love, I need more.” At your begging, Woftik rested his thumb on top of your nub. Immediately, your muscles tensed and waited impatiently at his next move. When he didn’t, you took it upon yourself to hump against him. The former embarrassment slipping away from you like water. “Fuck, like that. That feels so good.”

Woftik felt pleasure wash over him in a heady amount, soaking into his bones. Despite a want to move that hand coated in your slick, the Yautja pinched at your nipples instead. This distracted you from jerking your hips, you bit at your bottom lip.

Now, he took it upon himself to start a slow, mindful rubbing over your clit. The sticky slick coating your cunt easily allowed for him to pass over your nub. You released your lip with an airy cry, hands clawing at his exposed shoulders. The cold forgotten about now. A wall built to deter it away from the safety of your Yautja.

In tandem, your hips rocked against Woftik’s hand, further increasing the pressure. The Yautja watched, raptured with the way you moved with a desperate need. Your eyes hooded over, bottom lip captured between dull teeth. You were heavily breathing through your nostrils before you started to pant.

He let his upper hand abandon your breast to skim up to wrap firmly around your neck. Your eyes snapped open to stare wide at him. With a thumb, he stroked your jawline. “I didn’t say stop, pretty girl,” he huskily whispered. Your eyes rolled up. You didn’t realize you had stopped moving until he said something. You didn’t waste a second to begin again. A new fever rushing into your veins.

“That’s it,” he growled lowly. You squeaked, hands grasping at his skin. It had to be the combination of everything. Him, his noises, his body, his warmth, his hands, everything. It was affecting you. His last encouragement was the final nail in the coffin.

Your back arched, chest pressed up against him. A hardy gasp tore at the back of your throat, causing a cracking sound. “Fuck!” you spat out and refused to still, jutting your hips without rhythm till the end. A new gush of fluids coating his massive hand between your thighs. Despite the Yautja forcing you to look at him, your hooded back over. The bliss ebbing away from the blood that filled your veins.

When you officially slumped against his broad form, head resting on his shoulder. Woftik dragged his lower limb from between the apex of his body and lifted it in front of his alien face. From the corner of your heavy eyes, you watched as the Yautja licked your juices off. You mewled while humping, horny at the display.

Woftik grumbled his elder noises of content. “Hm, always so good for me.” Then, the Yautja tilted his head back to gaze down at your loose form. “Do you know what you do to me, little one? Do you know how hard you get me? How desperate you have me right now?” If you had a sober mind, the blush coating your cheeks could be from him.

All you could do for the moment was make a pathetic sound from the depths of your chest and bury your face in his neck. “Oh no, no, no. You don’t get to hide away from me now. I want to watch you come on my cock next, sweet girl.”

“Fuck me, please,” you groaned into his neck without thinking. Your body tensed a second after those words had left your mouth. Had you just said that?

The alien in front of you rumbled his low laughter. “That’s what my good girl wants, doesn’t she?” You forced yourself to bite at your bottom lip. At this point, it has had to bleeding or rubbed raw. After all the times you’ve constantly agitated it. A part of yourself would be surprised if it wouldn’t hurt in the morning. “Come on, tell me that you’re my good girl.”

Your hips rolled subconsciously. That’s when you felt a bulge in his pants. Without meaning to, they moved against the bump you had felt. Pleasure shot up the length of your spine all over again. With the combination of him calling you his good girl and the proposition of what’s to come, your walls clenched emptily.

“Your good girl,” you whined. You needed him now.

One moment, Woftik had you on his lap. The very next second, you were slammed onto your back on the couch cushions, legs spread wide. The oxygen in your lungs forced out at the sudden pressure. Any sounds of surprise couldn’t reach the air. But there wasn’t a hint of fear in your eyes as you stared up at the lumber giant above you. Woftik had you pinned to the couch, calm as ever, gaze locked onto you. One hand was wrapped snuggly around your throat. His other had found its way to your navel and gently held you there.

With his lower limb, he retreated it to pull off his pants. They were moved down enough for his cock to spring out and slap against him navel. A thick bead of precum leaking from the head, dripping down the length of him. Such an alien look to him that’ll have you always satisfied.

His size matched his body. Thickly corded and large. A vein ran down the side before disappearing where the noticeable lump of his deflated knot. He was a bright, neon green, just like his blood. At the sight of him, your mouth watered.

Your eyes lifted up to find his nearly black eyes on you, heavy with lust. Without even needing to say a word, you knew what he was asking of you. “Fill me, love.” Woftik didn’t need to ask again. With one hand, he lined himself up with your dripping cunt and pressed forward.

The head of his flat head popped inside before he stilled. Both of you relished in the delicious feeling seeping into your veins. Your head leaned back with a keen sounding from you. “You feel so good, little one. So tight and I’m barely inside of you,” he groaned and forced himself to still for your benefit. Past interactions have taught him well.

Woftik was gentle, mindful on his actions until his hips finally kissed your inner thighs. The two of you cried out, heads thrown back at the same time. His hands squeezed temporarily. Before the one on your neck slid up to tangle in your hair. He tugged on the strands to force you to look at him again. “That’s all me, little one. Pauk, yeah. So pauking tight around me.” That lower hand touched your navel again and pressed down. You harshly gasped.

With a newfound energy, Woftik snatched one of your hands and pressed it to your navel. He preformed the same action as before. Your eyes widened, unable to look away from his dark ones. You felt the giant twitch inside of you. You could feel him with your hand, deep inside of you.

“I’m so far inside of you. So deep. I’m inside of your womb. I’m going to fill your womb with my seed. Breed you so full of me.” For a lumbering giant, he knew how to use words for his advantage. You throbbed, walls barely able to even move with him inside of you. “Pauk, I love when you do that. You love the way I’m so far inside of you.”

Yeah, you most definitely do. He’s ruined you for anyone else. And it wasn’t just the sex that convinced you to stay with him. He may have been an ass in the beginning, but he was the best thing you had back then. You were glad to have stayed with him, through the dangers of his life.

“I do. Now, fucking pound me,” you demanded and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down. His warm breath fell over you at each exhale. One deep inhale filled your lungs with his earthy scent of wildlife and nature and salt.

He didn’t need to be told twice at the order of his mate. With one pull of his hips, almost removing himself from you, he thrusted forward. The slap against your thighs wasn’t harsh or painful by any means. This was the beginning after all. He wants to savor the moment for however long he possible could.

On the other hand, you were loving every, single second. His girth pressed every crook and nanny inside of you. You were seeing stars, despite the vanilla pace he usually sets up.

Woftik’s tresses fell around you in a curtain of light green. With the leftovers of your sober mind, you turned your head and captured the end of one of them with your lip. Woftik slammed his hips particular hard against you. It sent your body sliding up before he pulled you back down flush with him. “Do that again,” he begged and partially draped himself over you. His weight kept you trapped.

At his request, you suckled on the end of the one you caught. Woftik grounded his hips hard into you, only thrusting them while holding you down to the couch. It had your clit scrapping across his pelvis. You squeezed like a snake around him at the harsh stimulation. He yowled and shuttered above you, a beautiful sight before you. You felt that familiar heat blooming back into your chest.

The Yautja didn’t speed up but kept the punishing harshness of his hips snapping to you. He fell to his elbows, chest to chest with you now. You were completely pinned between him and the couch. There was nowhere to go. Not that you wanted to leave anyhow. This is where you wanted to be. This is where you are meant to be.

You keened a particular thrust that had you seeing stars. Your whole body shuttered, walls fluttering around him. Woftik snarled huskily above, mandibles clicking wildly. “You’re mine to breed. Mine to fill. Mine to love. Mine to pauk.” Your hands clawed at his back, probably not leaving any sort of marks. Yet, the alien shuttered as if you had hurt him.

“All yours, love. All you-oh!” He firmly rewrapped his hand back around your throat, once he had realized it slipped away. Woftik watched the way your eyes rolled back up into your head, eyelids hooded. You squeezed him once more, dragging him closer and closer towards the end.

His growing knot kept catching on your entrance, almost locking him prematurely inside. As much as he wanted to stop anything from preventing a smooth thrust, he was too far gone. He used the muscles that lined his broad back and waist to keep slamming his hips against you. There wasn’t anything that could pull him away from you. You were his. Through and through.

With the slight increase in his rough pounding, his skin rubbed against your erect nipples. Bliss was thrumming throughout your whole body. From the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You were soaking in it with your mate fucking you into the living room couch. The harsh, winter cold no longer a problem from the heat the two of you generated. No fire was needed for fiery love you held for each other.

One particular slam had you sobbing, body threatening to curl into his blazing body. “That’s it, little one. Be my good girl, come for me. And I’ll fill you with my seed as you’re mine,” he praised into your ear. Harsh clicks following afterwards. He cursed in his own language, losing his ability to speak ooman for the moment.

A body splintering orgasm pushed you right off of the edge. Everything went white, body tense and writing against Woftik’s never ending moving form. There was static in your ear. The only thing you could hear was a far off scream echoing in your ears. Your throat started to burn, vibrating for some odd reason.

Then, as your soul returned, you realized it was you who was making that noise. The rest of the air in your lungs left and forced you to sputter for more oxygen. You were panting, roughly and rasping inhales. Sweat dotted your half naked form. The shirt that hung off of your shoulders was sticking to your skin like an uncomfortable second layer.

You tried to gather your thoughts for a second only to feel a painful slap meet your thigh. If it wasn’t for the strong body pinning you down or the sturdy hold clasped around your throat, you would’ve been thrown far up the couch.

An all too familiar pressure burst inside of you, locking. You keened at the feeling, back arching off of the couch. Woftik’s snarl vibrated across the expanse of your skin. His native language falling off his alien tongue in heady mouthfuls. Your name cried out like a prayer along the words.

With a shaky, weak hand, you cupped his lower jaw. This had him opening his eyes, hooded and heavily to stare down at the mess he made of you. He purred thickly once he did.

There was so many emotions swirl inside of those gorgeous eyes of his. Not just the lust or subdued hunger for you. No, the affection he has that stems from deep within his soul shone through. You felt yourself completely soften at the sight.

The limb on your throat shifted to mirror your action. Woftik leaned forward and softly knocked his forehead against yours. “You did so well for me, sweet girl,” he breathed in to your ear, breathing faster than usual. You smiled up at him with a tilt of your head. “Yeah, you did so pauking good for me.”

Now, the blush blanketing your cheeks wasn’t from your exertion or former embarrassment. It was due to his new words. Instead of shying away, you kept your gaze on him. “Thank you, love. That was amazing, just like you.”

Woftik tensed before sputtering. You giggled softly at his reaction before rewrapping your arm back around him. He relaxed in your hold and let the moment carry on. Until you felt the dreading cold nip at the skin exposed to the house’s air. You whined and wiggled underneath him. “Wof… it’s getting cold again.” There wasn’t much he could do until his knot deflated. So, you had to wait until then. Don’t fret, the Yautja ensured you kept warm underneath him.

#yautja smut #yautja x you #yautja #alien vs predator #predator #predator x human #predator x you #x reader #yautja x reader #predator x reader #yautja x human

857 notes · View notes

xqueen-of-disasterx · 1 year

Text

Key Words

MobBoss!Natasha x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, dub con, daddy kink, dom!Nat, implied age gap, dumbification, orgasm denial

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors!

Word count: 1.2k

Authors note: Part 2 of Yes miss Romanoff coming soon I promise ;)

Masterlist

The Room I was held captive in was cold and wet, you could hear water dripping down somewhere in it. My vision was completely blacked out due to the blindfold that was placed over my eyes. I couldn't scream the piece of fabric in my mouth was preventing me from doing it. My arms started to hurt by how long they've been tied behind my back. Even my legs were bound to the legs of the chair. Leaving me completely spread open, at my kidnapper’s mercy. I knew I was here because of my father he had a lot of enemies. Maybe I was held here to get money for him, at least that's what I hoped for.

The painful quietness was interrupted by a door swinging open followed by loud footsteps and a few comments in Russian. I wanted to scream and cry I was just that scared. The men around me were suddenly quiet all by a feminine voice. "Silence, I want to talk to our little guest here" I could hear her grin in her voice. She stepped closer to me lifting my blind fold her piercing green eyes gazing coldly in my watery ones. She revealed herself to me letting me see her beauty. She looked older, not old but older maybe 40 but no day older. I was mesmerised by her beauty. She gently caressed my cheek whipping the single tear that from my eye.

"Hey hey, look at me I'm Natasha don't be afraid Мой маленький зайчик" I wanted to believe her I truly did however when I saw all the torture devices around the room my last hope faded to get out of there alive. "Now let's get to business shall we" She walked behind me placing her warm hands on my cold shoulders sending shivers down my spine. "You have something I want, зайчик" she whispered in my ear "That being the location of the hard drive" She takes the piece of fabric out my mouth.

"I- I don't know what you m-mean" I said between sobs. Her hands tightened around my shoulders make me hiss in pain. "Don't play dumb now принцесса. I know that you hid it" She signalled her men to leave to room leaving us completely alone. "Normally I would have beat up and tortured by now" She signed stroking trough her red hair "But you are way too cute for me to hurt so I've come up with an better solution" she came closer to me again purposely swinging her hips "I'll give you some much pleasure that you will do anything for your daddy" she whispered in my ear making me release a strangled groan "The best part you would probably even enjoy it, slut" She forcefully kissed me while holding my head in place.

She bit my lip hard enough to draw blood making me hiss before liking over the wound growing at the taste. Natasha’s kisses trail down my neck biting and sucking dark purple marks on my abused skin. I tried to keep it together I really did but it was just too pleasurable. I try to not give her the satisfaction of hearing my moans but when she groped my breaths with her strong hands, I couldn't help it. I licked over my sweet skin tasting me before ripping my blouse followed by her cutting my bra off making it fall the ground.

"You are such a beautiful angle" she said while looking at my exposed boobs and harden nipples. "To bad I'll have to ruin you" her words make me let out a whorish moan. She smirked seemingly satisfied with my answer before kissing my chest. Taking one nibble in her mouth while playing with the other. I thew by head back my body arching in her touch I swear I could cum from this alone. "Daddy please" if I would be honest, I didn't know what I was begging for. She chuckled before biting down on my nibble "You like this right?" I didn't answer being distracted by crying out in a mix of pain and pleasure earning me a slap from her "Answer me you slut or are you too stupid to do that too?"

"I like it daddy please I need you" I cry out in neediness my brain foggy from the pleasure I was gifted for her. "Already so dumb for her daddy nothing but Daddy's little fucktoy right?" I nodded hysterically she seemed pleased with my answer moving to the next nibble. I could already feel how my slick was puddling under me. This was worse than normal torture I was so frustrated by her I didn't know what to do but moan like a bitch in heat. She finally trailed her kisses down my body slicing my skirt and panties from my body, but I didn't care I just wanted my long-awaited pleasure.

She gently almost loving kissed my pubic bone before Natasha untied my legs before grabbing a small device from the table next to her placing it on my clit before I could register what happened she forcefully closed my legs quickly tying my legs together. Slowly I started to register what happened, she pulled out her phone and the device came to live. That Bitch using a bullet vibrator I thought whimpering as the pleasure increased. "Do you like my little helper зайчик“ She smirked sitting down in front of me. I shook my head making her let out a laugh. I was close to cuming already she could clearly see it. Natasha saw that too by the way my thighs twitched. She quickly turned the vibrator down ruining my orgasm. "Only obedient girl get to cum зайчик. So do you want to tell me something or are you too dumbed down?" I couldn't betray my family that easily, so I shook my head.

"It's been an hour" she announced looking at me without mercy "I wouldn't have thought you would manage to be so stubborn" I looked at her with a pleading look as tears rolled down my cheeks. "Don't look at me you know what you have to do to cum" She had ruined me, yet another orgasm and I couldn't take it any longer "2247 Hoffman Avenue" I say between sobs "please let me cum" She turned the vibrator up again letting me realise shortly after. She had settled between my legs again cutting the rope and taking away the torture device. I took deep breaths trying to regain my mind, but everything was so foggy there was only her, Natasha nothing else.

Just as I thought everything was over, she dived in my pussy again taking bold licks over my pussy. Eating like it's her last meal. She kisses my abused clit before gently biting down making me scream out in pleasure. It only took a few months before I came again with a moan of her name. She fully freed me, helping me stand upright. I could only stand with her strong arms around me "You are mine now do you understand Y/N?" She whispered in my ear before placing her drench coat around me hiding my lack of clothing from the world "I understand Natty."

#natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x female reader

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charliee · 1 year

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Relaxing moment with Kylian Mbappé

Sorry, english is not my first language but i promise to improve it.

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It wasn't that y/n didn't like her current job. On the contrary, having a routine and a purpose for leaving the house every day was what made her feel independent. But this same routine that made her feel useful also sucked all her energy and disposition to enjoy the little free time she had, and these were almost always filled with worries about the job. But there were also small moments that took her out of these stressful situations and brought her to the clouds in a matter of seconds, and the one who provided these moments was Kylian. Y/o looked at her boyfriend who greeted her at the door with a warm hug and a gentle kiss on the forehead. Her body relaxed against his, snuggling into his warmth.

- I've missed you, Ma chérie, I've been thinking about you all day. - Kylian said against her hair. Y/o let out a satisfied sigh, reluctantly leaving the cozy warmth of her boyfriend's chest to take off her shoes and sit down on the large sofa that looked even more inviting because of her tiredness.- I think someone is really tired here. How was your day? - Kylian asked with a playful tone, also sitting down on the couch and putting his sore feet in his lap, which was met with a grateful smile from you, knowing that he cares to know how your day went, even if it wasn't as exciting as a soccer player's, made you not look at it so negatively.

- Nothing new, you know, it's just that I'm feeling a bit...overwhelmed.

Kylian has always supported you in your goals, he was the first to support you to leave your old job in order to grow and he is also the proudest guy when it comes to saying how smart his girlfriend is and that she is the best at what she does. But Kylian would also be the first to tell you to abandon something that isn't doing you any good, he would enter his highest level of protective boyfriend if he knew that you were on the verge of a nervous breakdown because of work.

- Your boss isn't giving you more work than you can handle, right? - Her countenance was calm, even though her voice carried concern, and her hands began to slide down his feet and ankles, pressing carefully, drawing a tired but relaxed sigh.- No, but work has been more exhausting, if I want that promotion I'll have to work twice as hard, three times as hard in fact.

- You knew that being the girlfriend of the most talked about soccer player at the moment could give you easier access to the position you were aiming for, any position in fact, but you were never like that, choosing to get what you wanted by your own efforts without Kylian's influence, even if you had to do triple what a white man would do.

- Can I try to convince you again to accept my influence to provide you with a better job?- Kylian, we have already talked about this.

- What about you staying at home without worrying about anything, just being treated like the queen that you are?

- That option was also discussed and equally denied, my love. - You rebutted him with a smile. - But about being treated like a queen, do you think I can get that treatment now? I feel like I ran a marathon.

- Ma chérie, you can ask me anything you want and the answer will always be yes. - Kylian had a lazy smile on his face, you assumed that his day was not one of the smoothest either, but he still seemed willing enough to make you have a relaxing evening. Kylian shortened the distance between the two of you and deposited a soft kiss on your lips, caressing the sides of your body, Y/o's hands moved up towards your neck to deepen the kiss, but was surprised by a jolt from her boyfriend who lifted her off the couch bridal style towards the bathroom. Kylian set her down and turned on the tub, and turned around quickly as soon as he heard you start to undress.

- Non non, mon ange, today I will take care of you. - Kylian interrupted your movements and looked at you with a passionate gaze that you had no idea was possible due to your current state, neutral clothes that revealed nothing much, your hair caught in a clumsy hairstyle done at work, and the rest of the make-up you had put on in the morning, all seemed too ordinary and undeserving of such devotion.

As if he had read your thoughts Kylian said this, as he took off his clothes, but this action was not like he had done the other times, there was desire but this was a moment of devotion and gratitude reflected in his actions. - I love the life I lead with you, to be able to lie down with you every night and wake up with you. I am grateful for the time we spend together and I dare say I am also grateful for the longing I feel when we are away, longing is the certainty that we have the capacity to love.

A trail of kisses was deposited as each piece of clothing was removed, Y/o didn't know what to say, he just stood there admiring the love of his life saying one of the most beautiful things his ears had ever heard. Kylian didn't usually show his devotion with sugary words, always opting for physical touch, gifts and actions, but on this night he was particularly tempted to speak his deep thoughts and feelings. As soon as the tub filled up, the best products that were arranged in the bathroom were mixed in the water, Kylian helped his girlfriend into the warm water, kissed her forehead and lit some of his favorite candles that he knew would help her relax even more.

- Join me Ky, please. - Y/o's voice and face sounded needy and wanting, Kylian didn't wait a second request and undressed at the same moment and posed behind Y/o. In other moments the situation would be taken to another goal, but now what the two wanted most was the calm water and a relaxing moment just listening to each other's breathing. - Thank you for everything, mon coeur. - Your speech didn't last long because y/o was assured that Kylian knew the meaning of those words and was answered by him with a trail of kisses from shoulder to ear, he smiling slightly to hear you using that nickname he likes so much. Y/o let out a satisfied sigh, feeling all the tension fade away with the light massage on her shoulders and the warm water that worked wonders on her aching muscles. It was these simple moments that made her happy and made everything worthwhile, she could endure another day of hard work if she had the assurance that she would have Kylian wrapping her in his arms and making her feel like the luckiest woman in France.

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looking forward to the game between PSG and Bayern München

#football imagine #black reader #football drabble #football fluff #football one shot #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagine

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preservationofnormalcy · 5 months

Note

How does magic work anyways?

For the Thrashwizard Molorov PSA it said that he can make something "conform to Rhythmorzaxian realspace" and that boosts his power. So is it realm/universe linked?

Also, is realm hopping easy? I want to see my alternate universe selves and have a grand old time.

From, New to this here extranormal thing

(p.s. Jenny: I agree)

This is a big question, and thus I turn to our biggest brain: Ambrose Delgado, our local wizard and smartest man on the planet. He'll take it from here.

Ah, hello! This just does speech to text? Good! Good! I'm Ambrose, and Norm said you guys had some really interesting ontological-thaumaturgical questions, and boy I am just itching to draw out my current ontological model in a format that's not some stuffy paper! Hah!

Pardon my bad drawing and my just awful handwriting, but this is what I'm currently working with. A lot of this is simplified for the, uh, purposes here, translating it to the layman - that's you - and a lot of this is....currently completely hypothetical or the ultimate extrapolation from thaumo-mathmetical models. There's some realm designations I knew off the top of my head, there's a few more we know of, of course. And....some I can't label, just due to their classification.

Imagine the universe as a series of bubbles - that's "us" in the, uh, middle here. And by "us" I mean the entirety of realspace, our galaxy and indeed universe. Though, once you get out to the edges of the universe, realspace starts to get...slippery, ontologically speaking. At least, according to our models, there's some very interesting work being done in France right now regarding how much the edges bleed--

Sorry, yes, the model. Right. So, you have the bubble that is "us" and our realspace, and then the skin of the bubble, a dimensional barrier. That's currently a very hard thing to pierce. It can fail, randomly, and objects or people drift, but that's, you know, incredibly rare. It's hard to punch through and even harder to do so safely. Currently, we can't....consistently do it. At least, not in a way that satisfies modern thaumaturgical standards. A lot of the older wizards insist they used to be able to pop over to Albion Dieselsands or Old Charlie for the weekend, but frankly I don't believe them.

Just going through my labels here - so you have the dimensional barrier, then what's outside it. I know Norm's talked about it, but the colloquial idea of an "alternate universe" is not really something that exists. Many-Worlds is mostly incorrect. Mostly because choices do have the potential to create another "bubble" in our local multiversal map, it's just....very rare. Not every choice or turning point has that potential, and of the ones that do, an exponentially small number seems to actually result in a split, though he's mentioned "quantum potentiality", a concept that I think really hasn't been studied enough. I actually think that--

The model. So, the result is that "alternate universes" are mostly extremely divergent from ours, like our friend Thrashwizard's native Rhythmorzax. The terms "alternate universe" and "realm" are interchangeable. The "similarity gap" label refers to the concept that almost all realms are wildly different than ours, due to the nature of how splits work. We aren't....totally sure how it works, of course - are we the "prime"? Are we a "split"? The model is onto-centric, we aren't actually in the "center." A simplification to help readability. The ultimate answer to your "other you" question is it's extremely, incredibly unlikely that an entity meant to be an "other you" even exists, even if you were to find a realm where they could and breach the barrier.

The other labels. The "noo-drift cloud" refers to the concept that, well, concepts drift to other realms, or are shared - the dimensional barrier is somewhat noospherically permeable. That's why ideas like "metal music" are found on even the otherwise wildly divergent Rhythmorzax. A more accurate diagram would look like a Venn diagram, with noospheric circles overlapping.

You can see the more alien-less alien "meter" here - it's generally true that the more wildly divergent realms are more alien to us, in a familiarity sense. Heck, 99-Puppet doesn't even have humans or even human-adjacents on it.

This is where your question about magic comes in. See, most realms have a system of magic unique to that realm. When you're trained in one magic system, it's...it's like a language. Language has a huge effect on how your brain works, and so does a system of magic. Going to another realm is like being forced to learn a new dialect or even a new language. It's possible, sure, and might be easier for you because you know magic in the first place, but it can be quite a challenge. Again, our friend the Thrashwizard is already practiced in local thaumaturgical space, and his ability to "ontologically terraform" space temporarily is quite dangerous, as yes, that does put him on more familiar ground, magically-speaking.

Describing how magic works is...tricky if you're not already trained, and witches will have a different answer from wizards, who will have a different answer than warlocks, etc, etc. The way my brain conceptualizes it is...accessing an unimaginably large computer and requesting changes to the world - if you know the language the computer speaks and have the mental energy to send the request, it'll prioritize it to....immediately, really.

The last labels, on the right there - you can see the typical influence range of draconic or angelic/demonic entities. They have a much easier time traveling than we do, of course, though angels and demons seem to have settled on this one for reasons that are currently unclear. Dragons come and go, as they are....wont to do.

Oh, and you can see the....big bubble. It's current prevailing theory that the larger multiverse just....repeats, fractally. There's an unknown number of big bubbles out there, all of them unfathomably alien. IF any of you remember our communications with T!ss, they came from a bubble one or two removed from ours. Further out than that, it's....currently hypothetical. Outsiders, actually, are currently thought to exist in the space between bubbles, but I try not to dwell on what that means.

Hopefully that answered some of your questions!

#office for the preservation of normalcy #ask #microfiction #Thanks Ambrose!#thrashwizard molorov #alternate universes

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ashthefrogprin · 7 months

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I thought about Sam and Darlin more and more (which is a usual) and now I have some things to talk about. Trigger warning for discussions of suicide. Stay safe, people. Much love 💜

What if Sam died with Darlin instead. I remembered the time I watched The Last of us Episode 3 and (SPOILER ALERT) both Bill and Frank died together because Frank decided that he was getting too old and that he was ready to kick the bucket. And Bill already felt so fulfilled with his life that he was gonna die with the love of his life. Then when Frank said he didn't support it, I remembered Bill said "this isn't some tragic suicide at the end of a play. I'm old. I'm satisfied. And you were my purpose.."

Which is I sure as hell know that Sam would say something like that with his old ass "I'm not a poet" type bullshit that gets me every time.

This thought got me cryin' istg/srs

No matter what happens, I just hope to god they won't separate/ break up because of this.

#redacted rambles #redacted asmr #redacted sam #redacted darlin #redacted audio

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7nathanarmy · 1 year

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"I'm old. I'm satisfied. And you were my purpose."

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us spoilers #tlou #tlou spoilers #tlou bill #tlou frank #tlou bill and frank #art #fanart #tlou fanart #my art #opting not to add my blorbos for T spiel here #but if you see this and like it and want to make my life better pls look at my profile and donate seriously it would be amazing #blorbos for t

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bvckleykinard · 1 year

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"i'm old, i'm satisfied, and you were my purpose."

#the last of us #hbo the last of us #tlouhboedit #tlouedit #tloudaily #tlounetwork #tlou hbo #tlou series #tlou spoilers #bill #frank #nick offerman #murray bartlett #christina's edits #this was such a beautiful episode I genuinely wish I could go back and rewatch it for the first time

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blueberry-pride · 1 year

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The Vulture Of Pomefiore

Introducing Blueberry Pride's main TWST OC!

Berry: Been planning this for quite a while now and I'm finally satisfied with the lore and look of my darling Rhea of Pomefiore!

Expanding my edits using my own art and I thought what better way to debut my stuff than to draw my TWST OC. Can't really be using the official groovy/art forever so this is me showing you guys what kind of style you can expect from time to time.

Brief Lore Explanation

Rhea comes from a world that's the least magical and as mundane in comparison to Twisted Wonderland. Things started to take a turn from the original path when the dark mirror sorted the unsuspecting grubby girl into the dorm of The Beautiful Queen.

Unbeknownst to Rhea, her features, her habits and to her very purpose in NRC has changed. Taking up the role of the vultures, the very same that were a part of the untimely demise of The Beautiful Queen in the original story.

Grade/Class Predicament

Since our girl is 18 yrs old but still as fresh and as helpless as a newborn in this strange world, she is what Crowley likes to call a 'Floating Student'. She is still originally placed within the first years due to the curriculum and all but she is required to participate in a few classes as well as events that are part of the 2nd and 3rd years. One of the reasons being is to catchup, relearn and 'socialize amongst her age group' (Headmage's words). So all in all, more assignments, make-up classes after school. Rhea's fine...so far.

Her Surname

The last name 'Villanelle' comes from poetry. Originally centered around pastoral scenes and many themes about the countryside. Recently, poets and writers use to talk about all sorts of things like celebration, sadness, love and loss.

I wanted to give her this name to appeal to her artistic and literature side, pretty much giving cottage-core vibes. Mostly her romanticizing certain aspects of her old mundane life before she got isekai'd into TWST. Another reason being is that it sounds like 'villain' and TWST IS based on Disney Villains so I thought it could be funny-

Rhea Trivia

Likes to look for 'junk' and upcycle it into something beautiful and useful. (This was inspired by vultures who are like scavengers and scavengers break down the corpses or leftovers so that it could recycle into the ecosystem and shi-)

Because of this nature, she's good buddies with our hyena boi Ruggie, who helps her find cool stuff around campus and in turn, she would give these crafts for him to sell.

Has a habit of picking stuff up from the ground or in random places that she presumes are unwanted. Especially pretty, peculiar or shiny things. (Inspired by birds' habit and as a part of Rhea's overall curious nature)

With her habit of gathering stuff, her eyes are very keen into finding such items even when they're in the corner of her eye. (Vultures having keen sense like good eyesight and sense of smell)

Whenever she does find something or even someone interesting, she has this weird ass habit of circling around them until she's certain that they're approachable.

Speaking of and ironically, this girl unfortunately wears glasses almost everyday due to astigmatism. However, there were occasions that she could still find things even without them due to her intuition.

With her sense of smell being more sensitive, she gets light headed whenever she's in alchemy/potions class and then gets excused to the nurse's office quite often. (Professor Crewel gives the nurse a heads up every time at this point)

Often gets messy be it intentional or unintentional. often times there's a twig somewhere in her hair for god knows what reason. Tis a good thing she has her trusty hygiene kit with her at all times.

Like the vultures in Snow White, she is always accompanied by someone wherever and whenever she goes out. You'd always find her in a duo or more.

Speaking of, her closest friends are Epel and Jack (her classmates~) Ruggie, Light Music Club (who originally wanted her in their club) and Rook (Whom she looks up to and see as an older brother figure)

With clubs, Crowley thought it would be a fun idea to draw lots of what Rhea's club is going to be (not even telling her beforehand smh). Low and behold the Headmage got Magical Shif/Spelldrive.

Rhea really got into broom flying class as she gets to see the view from up above, she also likes the wind in her but most importantly the rush she gets while up in the air.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twstファンアート #twst edit #twst wonderland #twst oc #twisted oc #yuusona #twisted wonderland oc #twst pomefiore #pomefiore #pomefiore oc #twst fanart #twst art

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leverage-ot3 · 1 year

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"I'm old. And I'm satisfied. And you were my purpose" is such an eliot spencer after growing old line

look me in the eyes and tell me eliot spencer will outlive his partners

look me in the eye and tell me that eliot doesn’t plan to follow them into death as soon as he loses them

look me in the eye and tell me that after a lifetime of following them and protecting them and loving them he wouldn’t follow them one last time

look me in the eye and tell me that’s true

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xjade-lotusx · 1 year

Text

"I'm old. And I'm satisfied. And you were my purpose." Is such a raw fucking line holy shit

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #hbo tlou #tlou #tlou joel #tlou ellie #joel miller #ellie williams #pedro pascal #bella ramsey #tlouedit #tlou 1×03 #tlou spoilers #the last of us spoilers #lgbt

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matenrou-fan · 1 year

Note

Hi can you write a NSFW About ichiro on aphrodisiac with fem reader please

Ichiro with fem!s/o (+aphrodisiac)

Hi!! Hi!! You didn't give any details, and in my vision, Ichiro is too pure to use it on purpose, so in this fic he's drunk an aphrodisiac accidentally...! <3

femreader, aphrodisiac, rough sex;; 1778 words;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

Spending time with your boyfriend in his office always seemed so fun. Even when he was busy with his work, Ichiro still didn't mind you watching him or even helping a little, making the bond between you two stronger. Sometimes it was something simple and boring, and sometimes something absolutely ridiculous and unique, just like today.

"Are you sure it's not illegal?" - you murmur under your nose, looking closely at a pretty big but old first aid kit on the office's table. But the only response for your worries was a small chuckle.

"You're stressing too much, s/o. I have known this man for a long time.." - stepping closer, Ichiro takes a few bottles from a plastic box. - "There's nothing suspicious."

So, the deal - an acquaintance of your boyfriend, not that old but pretty sick man with a bunch of eye problems, along with a bad memory, was having this first aid kit for a long time. And now most of the labels on bottles and baggies almost rub off or get kinda unreadable, at least for the bad eyesight of this poor man. And of course who, if not your boyfriend, would help him to recognize all these meds and rewrite all these names on new paper?

Such easy and hard work at the same time, as some names were pretty recognizable, and some were completely erased. You decided to help Ichiro, just to spend the whole evening in Odd-Jobs Yamada, sorting tablets.

A curt buzz of your phone warns you about low battery and just now you notice how late it was - already past eight. You should hurry up, or a scold by your parents would be the one thing you get tonight, no dinner.

"Dinner.." - a small mumble burst out of your mouth and you look at Ichiro who's still busy. - "You do remember you need to cook dinner for your brothers?"

"Aah! You're right, s/o.. I think we overstay in my office for too long.." - light blush on his cheek when he realized how much carried away he got was endearingly hilarious. - "Oh, and also..!"

With a soft smirk he get closer to you, patting your head:

"Why don't you stay a little bit longer? I-I mean, not here, but in my house.." - Always getting so shy even in such casual things, Ichiro amuses your heart more and more. - "I think you deserve some treat from me, as a little thanks for this huge help! What do you think about curry?"

"Ok, but only if you would cook it all alone, and let me relax. Or it's not a treat." - smirk on your lips gets wilder but he just nods:

"Right! You already spent your free day helping me, so I would be only happy to see you have some rest now.."

Ah, such a softie, answering so sincere and joyful on your little bratty tease. You really wonder if there would be times when your boyfriend would be more.. assertive..

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"Aah, I'm full.." - with a satisfied sigh, you drop yourself on soft pillows, leg lazily dangling off the bed. - "Your cooking is the best.."

"S/o, you flattering me.. But I'm glad you liked it..!" - still with a soft smile on his face, Ichiro looks up at you from this goddamn first aid kit.

"Are you serious?" - you rose on one elbow and furrowed brows, but your voice was without rancorn, more with surprise. - "Don't you think you should take at least a little break, honey?"

"I already have one while having dinner." - he chuckled softly, drinking his tea, and you just sigh, getting more comfy on his bed and just opening your phone to recharge your phone and notify your parents you probably will stay longer on your boyfriend's place.

After such a great dinner you get kinda sleepy, just scrolling through social media and passing a few words here and there to Ichiro, telling some news or jokes, and still luring him to join you. As time passes, his responses suddenly start to get more and more short, and you ask him again to get in the bed.

"Mn.. you're right, s/o.." - his voice gets much weaker, probably after sitting in one pose for too long. - "I definitely should take a break.."

Only when your boyfriend gets closer, clinging to your side, you look up at him, pausing tiktok. The second his hands wrapped around your shoulders, the strong wave of heat tickled you. Almost feverish heat, and the way his breath gets so heavy.. there's definitely something wrong.

"Ichi? I think you overwork yourself.." - not really sure, you touched his forehead. Just how he got in such a state so fast, and you didn't even notice?

"I.. um, probably.." - for a moment he looks away, then whispers like an ashamed schoolboy who's afraid to confess he didn't do his homework. - "I.. I think I drank something.."

"you WHAT?" - immediately get up, you look at his table. - "You mean, from kit? What exactly?!"

"I-i don't know.. the label was almost torn off so.. accidentally.." - it looks like each word starts to be hard work for him, but Ichiro sighs and explains to the end. - "I didn't notice, I thought it's tea…"

"Ichiro, you're..! I don't know, an idiot!" - the only way your worry can relieve itself is in some scolding, as you duck down to your boyfriend, this time placing your arms on his shoulders. - "We need to immediately call an ambulance, i-"

But as soon as your hands slipped under his T-shirt, to touch naked skin just to have an idea how bad his heat is, a sudden whimper made you freeze in your place. Did Ichiro just arch a little? You looked at him but his half-lidded eyes moved to another direction and suddenly a bigger blush appeared on his warm cheeks.

"I.. I think it's alright, s/o.. There's not that much effect.." - he mumbled, trying to act cool, as if he wasn't lying under you with a husky breath, hiding his absolutely red face with hand.

"You literally have a fever! There's no way it didn't affect you, what if it's something dangerous?" - you scoff and sit on his laps, removing his trembling hand from his face and cupping it with yours.

You didn't even pay that much attention to how provocative such a move would look in the usual moment, too worried about your boyfriend's well-being, so when his arms lowered to your waist, grasping it, it was kind of a surprise for you. Gasping, you felt as he forced your hips just a little lower, pressing to his crotch, and some tickling realize hit your head.

"S/o.. i.." - A small whisper was the only excuse you had before Ichiro suddenly pressed his lips to yours, titillating you with an unexpectedly strong, needy kiss.

That was something new, and you melt in this kiss, enjoying a newfound passion in your boyfriend. Also, his act just proves your thoughts and you decide to push it further, dropping your hands to his torso and pulling the hem of his T-shirt, tickling heated skin with cold air and light touches of your fingertips. His soft moan rings in your mind and echoes with the same little sound from your lips. There's already a hard bulge in his pants that pressed against your core and you can't help but gyrate your hips a little, yearning for more friction.

And Ichiro quickly reacts, his own hips jut upwards yours as you two just start humping to each other almost like dogs in heat. Well, at least your boyfriend looks like that - exactly like a wild dog, not like a cute little golden retriever puppy that he always acts like. His voice gets just a little lower, but enough to make shivers run down your spine, and when this grasp on your waist gets firmer as he lifts you and pins you to the bed, swapping places, it starts to be kinda unbearable to you too.

Despite your love to dream sometimes about Ichiro being more dominating in your relationship, you never thought you would get that excited when these dirty fantasies would be fulfilled in such a strange accident.. Yet soonly all your worries and shyness disappear, as this deep needy kisses along with rough rubbing of his crotch to yours makes your minds melt into complete mush.

"S/o, can i..?" - even in such a state your pure boyfriend decided to ask, when his thumbs hooked onto the band of your jeans and underwear, giving small impatient pulls.

"Of course.." - you whisper, chest heaves with your deep, unsteady breaths. - "Don't hold back.. Just let it out, dear.."

Such playful approval makes him whimper and with one harsh move he takes both things off, throwing away your clothes. For a moment you whine, as your skin was attacked by the cold air of the room, yet almost immediately you heard an unzip sound and felt the steady warmth of another body.

His cock was even harder than in your first time together, spasming around your folds while Ichiro slowly moved his hips to let his length soak in your juices before entering inside. This quick and sloppy foreplay just makes you both even more impatient, so he finally slowly sinks in, pushing your walls with more force than usual. Your weak moan was outvoiced by his whimper, bordering on groan as Ichiro showed his dick fully inside.

And despite him always asking you before continuing, and despite he really wanted to ask today too, it feels like his hips are just moving by themselves, starting pretty slowly but changing into faster speed after just a few thrusts. Kisses get even more sloppy as you practically just moan into each other's mouths than actually kisses. But this new pleasure of more rough and passionate sex was too overwhelming for both of you, and you can't help but whine for more every time you pulled away to catch breath.

"S/o.. It's.. it's feels so good.." - this mix of some harshness with his casual softness in voice was so alluring, so new.

Maybe tomorrow, in the morning, you should ask just who is this friend of your boyfriend, if he has such things in his first aid kit, yet now.. Now you didn't think about that much, only inwardly thanking him for such an opportunity to see Ichiro getting so feral over your body and small whines. The way he gets even faster, pounding you in the bed with loud slaps tells you clearly there's no way you would be able to soothe this effect before night ends..

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