#Hellspawn reader

[alilobsessive]

I learned about the Anti hero Spawn yesterday and that man lives in my head rent free, so here’s a Batfam Reader idea. You know those neglected Batfam reader becomes a Spider? That but instead of a Spider there like Spawn. Reader after being Neglected for years who dispute that still looks up to all the good things the Batfam does so they try to become a hero in another city after moving. Only to die very early on, there sent to hell for a sin they committed(accidentally killing someone) were they meet a powerful demon. They make a deal with the demon to be able to see there family again. Only to return 5 years later with little memory of there past and having been changed into a Hellspawn completely unrecognizable to themselves and their loved ones.

[sugoi-writes]

I feel like Alastor would never walk in while you're indecent/in disarray physically... he knows how to knock, afterall... BUT--

I can see Alastor playing things off well enough. He's a gentleman, so he avoids eye contact. You feel his coat drapping over your shoulders as he rambles about something.

An incoming meeting, the next group activity, or simply what he had for breakfast that day. Mundane things that can absolutely wait... but he's such a Chatty Cathy! If Rosie isn't around or too busy, then you simply MUST hear him out about his struggles. Your clothing be damned, it's simply TOO important.

Much like with Charlie, he sits or lays directly across your bed, like a tween girl at a sleep over, his feet kicking in the air. He's relaxed. His eyes are half lidded. Your room may as well be his second bedroom. He doesn't mind making himself at home even while you're frantically trying to cover yourself or throwing things his way.

A classic case of "Hello dear, I was meaning to ask you about-- yes, I'm aware that you're undressed, why are you screaming? *covers you in his jacket* AHEM. Anyway--"

---

However, if you're closer than friends...

Alastor lets himself in, unprompted. Usually via shadow. Unlike before, eye contact is intentionally made, lest you get the idea his eyes are wondering. And if you relax enough, you may actually catch them doing so. He'd help himself to your closet, picking something out for you to wear.

"Oh Heavens, no, you are not going out like that! Here, why don't you try this instead? Red is positively RADIANT on you!"

Alastor would tut and force you to do little poses and spins, shifting you through multiple outfits until he's satisfied. But, of course, if you put your foot down, he won't stop you. That just means that tearing it OFF of you will be much more satisfying.

Alastor will, more than likely, forget why he entered in the first place. Or, better yet, he may not even have a reason to! He just wants to be near you, or he wants to kill time before he has to be productive. You are his one and only source of rest and relaxation. You help his brain disconnect with the world, and help him let his hair down (metaphorically).

Though Rosie and others are more than capable of helping him pass the time, he'd like to spend it with you, especially if your own time is limited. And, if you have no where to be... he may just find a way for you to keep your clothes off a little longer.

Don't mind him if there's a lingering touch here, or if your laces are tied a little too loose... he can't help himself. He'd much rather see you with nothing at all. For your sake, you better hope he isn't feeling too frisky... Because once something comes off by his hands... it make be hard or straight up impossible to be worn again.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Let's Save The Earth

Summary: Spawn has been obsessed with a particular angel as he wants to show you just how fascinated by just how holy you are.

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: Yandere! Spawn, Innocent and angel! reader, First time, Corruption, Religion kink?, Talk of owning you, Nipple play, Talk of it fitting inside, Dirty talk, PwP, Cumming inside, Can't think of anything else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Al Simmons/Hellspawn character/s nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Al Simmons sat in the shadows, watching the innocent angel in front of him intently. He was a yandere, obsessed with this angel beyond reason, though even if he didn't recognize it. He had always been drawn to innocent and virtuous beings like the one before him, yet he had never felt such a strong compulsion to make someone his. His eyes traced over every curve and contour of the angel's form, and he felt an intense possessiveness take hold of him. He wanted to keep you to himself, to protect you from the impurity of the world and make you his forever.

Spawn crouched in the dark corner of the room, his eyes fixed on the innocent angel in front of him. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. You were so pure, so perfect, and he wanted you all to himself. His heart raced as he took in your every detail. The graceful arch of your neck, the gentle curve of your wings… he longed to touch them, to feel their softness beneath his fingers. Spawn clenched his fists, his mind racing with a flurry of dark and possessive thoughts. The angel blissfully unaware, continued to flutter around the room, completely oblivious to the shadow creature observing you. As you moved across the room, the light streamed in through the window, making your wings glow radiantly. Spawn's eyes widened in awe, as he took in the sight before him. It pained him, his dark form being unable to withstand the purity of light, but he found he could not look away. Spawn's eyes widened as he watched the angel's wings catch the light. It was a truly breathtaking sight, and he felt a pang of longing deep within him. He wanted to touch those wings, to feel the softness of the feathers beneath his fingers. But he knew that such a gesture would be beyond inappropriate, and likely unwelcome for something so completely pure. He forced himself to remain in the shadows, though every fiber of his being screamed to step forward and claim what he wanted so desperately.

With each graceful movement, the angel continued to unknowingly tease Spawn. You hummed blissfully, completely unaware of the possessive gaze fixed upon you. As you fluttered about, your sheer gown lightly grazed the floor, revealing just a hint of bare skin beneath. Spawn's grip tightened. He longed to touch that soft flesh, to claim you as his own. Every movement of the angel was like a sharp stab in Spawn's heart. The sight of your bare skin made his hands itch with the desire to touch, to possess. He could feel his control slipping, his primal instincts taking over. He clenched his fists, his breathing growing ragged as he tried to rein in his lustful thoughts. As you continued to move in your innocent bliss, completely oblivious to the dark desires growing within Spawn, the light filtering through the window continued to cast you in a divine glow. With each movement, the sheer gown clung to every curve of your body, leaving very little to the imagination. Spawn was going mad with the need to claim you. He ached to touch you, to mark you as his own. But he held himself back, even as his blood roared with hunger. Despite his iron will, Spawn could feel his control slipping even more. With every passing second, the urge to take you became stronger and stronger. His body was tense with the effort of holding himself back, his muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap. He clenched his hands into tight fists, trying to resist the overwhelming desire to reach out and touch you, to make you his. The light that cast you in such a beautiful glow now felt like a cruel mockery, taunting him with what he could never have. The angel, blissfully unaware, continued to float around the room, completely ignorant of the possessive thoughts that danced within Spawn's mind. Your innocence and purity seemed to grow evermore pronounced as the light from the window illuminated your every movement. Spawn's jaw was clenched so tight his teeth ached. His control was slipping, and he was losing the battle to contain his dark desires. He wanted you, no, he needed you.

Spawn's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He was a hellspawn, a creature born of darkness, and yet he was utterly entranced by the angelic innocence before him. He had never felt such a strong desire to claim another being, to possess them completely. And yet he knew that it was wrong, that he was a monster and you were an angel. He tried to push down the desire, to force himself to look away. But every movement you made seemed to draw him in even more. Every graceful movement you made, the way your gown shifted with every beat of your wings only heightened the growing hunger within Spawn's heart. He was entranced, completely possessed by the purity of your soul, and yet also consumed by the dark desire to take you and make you his. He wanted to taste your innocence, to feel the sweetness of your mouth against his. His eyes tracked your every movement with an intensity that bordered on madness. He wanted to taste you. As Spawn watched the angel continue to move around the room, blissfully unaware of his presence and the desires that coiled within him, he felt his control snap. With a low growl, he surged forward, his hand wrapping around your wrist. His hold was tight, possessive, and he pulled you close until your body was flush against his. As Spawn watched the angel continue to move around the room, blissfully unaware of his presence and the desires that coiled within him, he felt his control snap. With a low growl, he surged forward, his hand wrapping around your wrist. His hold was tight, possessive, and he pulled you close until your body was flush against his. The innocent angel's eyes widened in surprise as Spawn's hand closed around their wrist, pulling them against his body with a possessive intensity. A gasp escaped your lips, as you found yourself trapped against his muscled chest, completely unable to move away. Spawn's eyes were dark with an almost feral need as he looked down at you, his grip unyielding.

Spawn's breathing was ragged, his eyes dark and possessive as he looked down at the innocent angel in his grip. He could feel the heat of your body against his, the scent of your innocence filling his nostrils and driving him wild. He knew that he was crossing a line, that he was risking everything by giving in to his desires. But he couldn't stop himself, the primal lust within him consuming every rational thought. "You're mine," he growled, his voice hoarse with need. "You belong to me." Spawn's other hand reached up to grasp your chin, tilting your face up towards his. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, savoring the softness. "I want to taste you," he growled, his voice low and rough with desire. Without waiting for a response, he leaned in and captured your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving inside to claim every inch of your sweetness. The angel's gasp was quickly smothered by the possessive kiss of Spawn's lips. His hold on your chin was unyielding, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the sweetness of your mouth with an almost primal hunger. You tasted like sin and innocence wrapped in one, and it only made him want you more. His hand moved from your chin down to your waist, gripping you tightly as he pulled you even closer, his body pressing against yours. Spawn's hands roamed over your curves, mapping out every inch of your angelic form. He couldn't get enough of you, of the way you fit against him, of the taste of your lips. With a low groan, he broke the kiss, his breath hot against your skin. "I need to see all of you," he rasped, his fingers deftly working open the buttons of your gown. The fabric fell away, revealing the expanse of your breasts, pert nipples already hardening under his gaze.

As the last of the gown slipped off your shoulders, you stood before Spawn, naked and vulnerable by the heat in his eyes. Your breasts rose and fell with each quickened breath, nipples peaked in arousal. The sight of your exposed flesh seemed to inflame Spawn's desire further, his own body reacting with a surge of power and lust. He reached out, cupping your breasts in his large hands, thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks. A moan escaped you, arching into his touch as pleasure sparked through your body. Spawn's fingers pinched and rolled your nipples, sending jolts of electric pleasure straight to your core. He watched intently as you responded to his touch, your back arching, your breaths coming in short pants. Leaning in, he nipped at your earlobe, then trailed hot kisses down the column of your throat. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. "So pure…and mine now." With that declaration, he claimed your mouth again, kissing you with a fierce passion that left you weak in the knees. Your body trembled under Spawn's skilled touch, waves of pleasure washing over you with each stroke of his fingers, each nip of his lips. You felt consumed by him, lost in the intensity of his desire. When he spoke those words - "mine now" - it sent a shiver down your spine, a thrill of excitement mixed with a hint of fear. Yet even as a part of you recoiled, another part yearned to surrender to this dark, powerful being who held you so completely in thrall. His kiss deepened, and you found yourself returning it with inexperienced fervor, your arms winding around his neck as you pressed your body flush against his. Spawn's heart raced as he devoured your sweet lips, drinking in the essence of your innocence. He could feel your hesitation, your conflicted emotions, but they only fueled his desire to claim you fully. Breaking the kiss, he gazed into your eyes, seeing the war raging within you reflected back. "Let go, angel," he urged, his voice a seductive purr. "Give in to me. I can show you pleasures beyond your wildest dreams." His hands slid down your sides, tracing the curves of your hips before grasping your rear and pulling you harder against his straining erection. "Feel how much you affect me," he growled, grinding his length against your belly. "How much I crave you."

Your breath caught as you felt the rigid outline of Spawn's arousal press insistently against your stomach. The sensation sent a forbidden thrill coursing through your veins, stoking the flames of your own burgeoning desire. You knew what you were doing was wrong, that angels weren't meant to indulge in such carnal delights and least of all with demons. And yet, as Spawn's heated gaze bore into you, promising untold pleasures, your resolve began to crumble. "I…I don't know if I can," you whispered, even as your body betrayed you, leaning into his touch, craving more. Your hands fluttered against his chest, feeling the thunderous beat of his heart, matching the frantic pace of your own. "But I want to…" The confession hung in the air, heavy with the weight of temptation and forbidden longing. Spawn's lips curled into a wicked grin at your question, his eyes gleaming with dark promise. "Oh, it will fit," he purred, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest just below your sex. "And once it does, you'll never want to let it go." With a swift motion, he lifted you onto the edge of the table, spreading your legs wide apart. His fingers traced the delicate folds of your sex, gathering the slick moisture that betrayed your growing arousal. "You're so wet for me already," he rasped, circling your clit with a teasing touch. "Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind is still trying to resist." Leaning in, he replaced his fingers with his mouth, sucking your clit between his lips as he delved two digits into your dripping channel, stretching and filling you with a delicious pressure. A sharp cry escaped your lips as Spawn's fingers plunged deep inside you, followed by the sensual suction of his mouth on your sensitive nub. Waves of intense pleasure crashed over you, your back arching off the table as your body instinctively rocked against his ministrations. The feeling of being filled, stretched, and pleasured by his skillful hands and mouth was overwhelming, sending sparks of ecstasy shooting through your nerves. Your hands tangled in his hair, holding him close as you ground your hips against his face, chasing the building climax. "Oh!" you moaned, your voice trembling with the force of your impending release. "Please, what's happening?"

Spawn released your clit with a wet pop, looking up at you with eyes blazing with lust and satisfaction. "This is what happens when an angel gets touched by a demon," he growled, pumping his fingers faster inside you, curling them to stroke that sweet spot deep within. "You come undone, lose control, and give in to the pleasure." His thumb found your clit again, rubbing firm circles over the swollen bud as he continued to finger-fuck you with ruthless efficiency. "Come for me, angel," he commanded, his voice low and demanding. "Scream for me as you fall apart on my fingers." With that, he redoubled his efforts, driving you rapidly toward the edge of bliss, determined to make you shatter in his hands. Your vision blurred as the sensations Spawn evoked built to a fever pitch within you. Each thrust of his fingers, each swirl of his thumb, brought you closer to the precipice, until finally, with a keening wail, you tumbled over the edge into ecstasy. Your inner walls clenched rhythmically around his plunging digits as wave after wave of rapture washed over you, leaving you quivering and spent in its aftermath. As the last tremors subsided, you collapsed back onto the table, panting heavily, your body still tingling from the intensity of your orgasm. Through half-lidded eyes, you gazed at Spawn, seeing the dark satisfaction etched on his features. "That was…" you managed to whisper, your voice hoarse from crying out in pleasure. "But we can't keep doing this. It's not right."

Spawn slowly withdrew his fingers from your still-quivering sex, bringing them to his lips to taste your essence. "Mmm, you're absolutely divine," he purred, savoring the flavor of your release. Rising to his feet, he towered over you, his muscular form casting a shadow on the table. "Right and wrong have no place here, angel," he said, his voice a low rumble. "In this moment, all that matters is the pleasure we share, the connection we've forged." He reached down, gently stroking your cheek with the back of his knuckle. "Don't fight it. Embrace what we have, and let me show you the depths of sin and pleasure that await you… wouldn't want to upset your maker, right?" A shiver ran down your spine at Spawn's words, a mix of trepidation and anticipation. You knew he was playing with fire, tempting you with promises of forbidden delights, but the allure was undeniable. As his finger brushed your cheek, you felt a spark of electricity, a reminder of the intense sensations he'd coaxed from your body mere moments ago. "I should leave," you insisted, even as your limbs felt heavy and uncoordinated, reluctant to move away from his touch. "Before things go too far." But as you tried to sit up, your gaze fell upon the impressive bulge straining against Spawn's jeans, and your resolve wavered. "But…but what do you mean?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, a naive acknowledgment of the physical hunger he must be experiencing. Spawn's chuckle was dark and husky, sending a thrill through your body. "Your maker would be very displeased indeed if he knew about our little tryst," he murmured, stepping closer until his erection pressed against your thigh. "But that's part of the thrill, isn't it? The risk, the secrecy?" His hand drifted down to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple. "As for what I mean by upsetting him… well, let's just say that demons and angels aren't exactly supposed to fraternize, especially not in ways that lead to…this." He leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth. Breaking away, he breathed hotly against your ear, "So tell me, angel, are you ready to play with fire? Allow me to bury myself inside you, to claim every inch of your heavenly body as mine. To make you scream my name as I take you to the very brink of heaven and hell?"

Hearing his words sent a jolt of desire through the angel's body, igniting a fire deep within your core. Your breath hitched at the sinful promise he made, the way his fingers expertly danced across your exposed flesh, leaving a trail of tingles in their wake. The thought of crossing such a taboo line, of giving in to these desires that consumed you both…it was both terrifying and exhilarating. Spawn's eyes flashed with triumph as he saw the conflict raging within you, the war between virtue and vice. He knew he had you right where he wanted you - on the cusp of surrender, teetering on the precipice of damnation. "Let go of your inhibitions, angel," he urged, his voice a seductive purr. "Embrace the darkness that lurks within you, the primal urges that yearn to be unleashed." His hands roamed your curves possessively, mapping every contour of your body as if claiming you as his own. "Feel how hard you make me," he growled, grinding his throbbing cock against your thigh. "How much I crave you. Don't deny us both the pleasure we so desperately need. Your maker would be very displeased to learn of our… dalliance." He leaned in, his hot breath caressing your ear as he whispered, "But I'm willing to take that risk, because the reward is worth it." With a deft motion, he popped open the button of his jeans and lowered the zipper, freeing his thick, pulsing cock. It sprang forth, long and hard, the tip glistening with pre-cum. "Look at what you do to me," he groaned, giving his shaft a slow stroke. "I ache to bury myself inside you, to feel your heavenly heat wrapped around me."

Your eyes widened at the sight of Spawn's erect member, the sheer size and virility of it making your mouth water. The heady scent of male arousal filled the air, mingling with the musk of your own desire. As he stroked himself, you couldn't help but imagine the sensation of that thick cock plunging into your depths, stretching you wide, filling you completely. The thought sent a fresh surge of liquid heat pooling between your thighs. "Oh," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "What are we doing? This goes against everything I believe in." Yet even as you spoke the words, you found yourself leaning forward, reaching out to trace a finger along the velvety length of his shaft. "It feels so wrong, yet so right," you admitted, your touch growing bolder as you explored the contours of his manhood. "Um… will it fit?" Spawn's chest heaved with anticipation as your delicate fingers wrapped around his throbbing cock, exploring the rigid length with a tentative curiosity that only heightened his arousal. "Fit?" he repeated, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Angel, you have no idea the depth of pleasure I intend to wring from your heavenly and pure body." He captured your wrist, guiding your hand to the base of his shaft, demonstrating the impressive girth. "This is just the beginning. Once I'm buried inside you, I'll make sure you never forget the feel of a demon's cock stretching your tight, virgin passage." With a swift tug, he freed his member from your grasp and stepped back, his eyes burning with a feral intensity. "Bend over the table, angel," he commanded, his voice dripping with dark promise.

You hesitated for a moment, torn between the fear of what was to come and the insatiable craving that gnawed at your very soul. Slowly, almost mechanically, you complied with Spawn's demand, turning to face the table and bending over it, presenting your bare bottom to him. The cool surface pressed against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat building within you. You could feel his gaze on your exposed flesh, the weight of his hungry stare making your nerves tingle. "Please be gentle," you whispered, even as a part of you wondered if gentleness would even be possible given the size and strength of the demon before you. The anticipation was suffocating, your heart pounding in your ears as you waited for him to make the first move. "Are you going to…?" you trailed off, unable to bring yourself to voice the explicit act he intended to perform. Even so, your hips twitched involuntarily, seeking contact, craving the promised penetration. Spawn's eyes gleamed with wicked delight as he beheld the angel bent before him, your pristine white wings folded neatly behind you, your lithe form presented like an offering on the altar of sin. He took a step closer, his cock throbbing with each beat of his blackened heart. "Gentle?" he echoed, a smirk twisting his lips. "Sweet angel, there's nothing gentle about what I plan to do to you." With a swift, powerful movement, he gripped your hips, pulling you back against his throbbing cock.

The head nudged insistently at your entrance, teasing, probing, testing your readiness. "You're so tight," Spawn groaned, relishing the exquisite tightness gripping his shaft, the way your virgin walls clung to him like a velvet vise. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as Spawn's thick cockhead pushed against your trembling entrance, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. Your body instinctively tensed, bracing itself for the inevitable invasion, even as a traitorous part of you craved more, yearned to be filled by this demon's potent seed. "Wait!" you cried out, panic rising in your throat as the reality of what was about to transpire crashed over you. "We can't… this is madness! I'm an angel, and you're…" You struggled to find the words, your mind reeling with the enormity of the forbidden act. "I don't know if I can handle something so big," you admitted, your voice shaking as you glanced back at him over your shoulder, uncertainty and trepidation etched on your features. Spawn paused, his cock still pressing insistently against your untouched entrance, the head slick with precum. He studied your conflicted expression, a flicker of concern momentarily softening his features. "Shh, angel," he soothed, his voice low and reassuring. "I understand your fears. But trust me, I'll take care of you. Every thrust, every inch, will be measured to ensure your comfort and pleasure." He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "And who knows? Perhaps being claimed by a demon will awaken hidden desires within you, desires you never knew existed." With a gentle, encouraging nudge, he began to ease his cock into you, the broad head breaching your hymen with a subtle stretch. "Just relax, let me in," he coaxed, his movements deliberate and unhurried. A choked whimper escaped your lips as Spawn's cockhead slowly penetrated you, the initial burn giving way to a strange, tingling fullness. Your inner muscles clenched reflexively around the invading thickness, trying to adjust to the foreign sensation. Despite the discomfort, a shiver ran down your spine at the realization that you were finally being taken, possessed by this dark and powerful entity. "Nnngh… it hurts," you panted, biting your lip to stifle a cry as Spawn continued to push deeper, his cock spreading you wider with each incremental advance. The pressure built, your tender flesh yielding to his insistent thrusts until, with a final, smooth glide, he sank fully into you, his heavy balls coming to rest against your sensitive folds.

Spawn's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as he felt the last barrier give way, his cock fully sheathed within the angel's divine heat. He savored the moment, reveling in the exquisite tightness that enveloped him, the way your inner walls fluttered and clenched around his throbbing length. "Fuck, you feel incredible," he growled, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he held you steady. He took a deep, shuddering breath, then began to move, withdrawing almost completely before surging back in with a forceful thrust that made you gasp. The rhythm was primal, urgent, each stroke designed to claim you further, to brand you as his. "Take it all, angel," Spawn snarled, his pace quickening as he lost himself in the carnal bliss of defiling holy flesh. Your cries grew louder, more wanton, as Spawn's powerful thrusts stirred a maelstrom of sensations within you. The pain had faded, replaced by an intense, pulsing pleasure that seemed to radiate from your core outward. Each deep plunge of his cock hit a spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids, sending waves of euphoria crashing through your veins. "Yes, oh god, yes!" you wailed, your voice hoarse with need as you rocked back to meet his savage strokes. Your hands scrabbled at the tabletop, nails digging into the polished surface as you struggled to maintain balance against the onslaught of his demonic passion. The feeling of being so thoroughly, completely filled by Spawn's massive cock was indescribable, a sinful indulgence that both repelled and attracted you in equal measure.

Spawn's guttural grunts mingled with your ecstatic screams as he pistoned into you with wild abandon, the table creaking ominously beneath your entwined bodies. His claws dug into your hips, marking you as his territory as he fucked you with ruthless intensity, determined to imprint his essence upon your very being. "Mine," he roared, his voice echoing through the chamber, a declaration of possession as much as a testament to the raw, animalistic lust driving him forward. "You're mine now, angel, forever bound to my dark pleasure." With a particularly brutal thrust, he felt your climax cresting, your pussy clamping down on his cock like a vice as you came undone beneath him. The sensation triggered his own release, and with a triumphant howl, he spilled his demonic seed deep inside you, painting your womb with his infernal mark. As the torrent of Spawn's hot cum flooded your innermost depths, you felt your own orgasm reach a fever pitch, wave after wave of rapture washing over you in ceaseless succession. Your body convulsed, arching back against him as you screamed his name, the sound torn from your throat by the sheer, overwhelming intensity of the experience. In that moment, as Spawn's essence mingled with yours, you knew that you had crossed an irrevocable threshold - no longer the pure, untainted angel you once were, but something new, something darker, forged in the crucible of sin and desire. As the aftershocks subsided, leaving you limp and sated, you gazed up at Spawn with a look of dazed wonder, his seed still dripping from your abused hole. "What have we done?"

Spawn's chest heaved as he caught his breath, his blackened skin glistening with sweat in the dim light. He looked down at you, his crimson eyes gleaming with a mix of satisfaction and dark amusement as he took in your debauched state. "We've created something beautiful, angel," he purred, his voice low and husky with post-coital languor. "A union of heaven and hell, purity and corruption. And it's only the beginning." He gently pulled out of you, his spent cock slipping free with a wet pop. A trickle of blood and cum followed, staining your thighs as he stepped back, admiring his handiwork. "Now, let's see just how far we can push the boundaries of sin and pleasure together."

[decembersiris]

Not me thinking about meshing Astarlach with Silent Hill 2. Not me thinking about the Leave, In Water, and Maria endings specifically to connect to Astarion's guilt and regret surrounding Karlach's death. Not me thinking of the line, "Karlach, could you really be in Avernus, waiting for me?" Not me thinking of the letter read in Karlach's voice. Not me thinking about fanfic ideas. Nope, nope, nope.

[seventeendeer]

hater moment incoming, but I have a phd in projecting on fictional characters and I don't want Susie and Noelle to get together. I want a random surprise win for Noelle/Catti and I think Susie should pick a direction and run to freedom and not look back

[charmandabear]

If I did fanfiction commissions, is that a thing people would want?

Taxes were pretty rough this year and I'm going to have a ton of moving expenses for the summer.

So are there people who would be interested in fanfiction commissions? And how much would you be willing to pay?

[sarehime]

You're telling me to be more tolerant of people when I go into my ship's tag and other ships' stories come up?!

[oceantoast-writes]

Hello hello! I am looking for a beta reader for a Baldur's Gate 3 work. It is Karlach/Astarion with a little of Mizora/Astarion. There are themes of dubious consent and coereced consent present, and the tone of the work is angst. The work is explicit and has light sexual themes, so I will not accept a beta reader younger than 20 personally. If you are interested please reply and i will reach out to you on my main or feel free to dm me

[katsudon2021]

There are 2 things in this world that there isn’t enough of. Happiness, AND AL SIMMONS SPAWN X READER FANFICS.

[nyursi]

NASTY DOG. . .ᐟ

⫘⫘⫘ㅤmale reader, brat taming, size difference, age gap (around 20-40 ig), ass eating, yeahhhh,,, livestock guardian dog x recon cat reader!!!ㅤ♪ㅤ───ㅤwc: 3k

"Ow, ow, ow!" You yelped, the fingertips digging into your scalp causing whimpers. Face scrunched up— brows furrowed, lips pulled into a pout. Like a proper hurt brat. 

Dean meanwhile, had ignored your struggles and continued to drag you through the field, eyes narrowed. The sharp blades of grass (freshly cut) dug into your skin, leaving red lines to mark up your thighs. 

He had a firm grip on your hair, tugging harshly. Let it fall it out for all he cares. "Tsk. Stop complainin', it's hurting my ears." Dean huffed, pulling your head upwards for a sharp jolt. Relishing in the quick yelp that followed afterwards— echoing in the field. 

With no warning, he dropped you down onto the ground, leaving you to keel, curling up like a worm. Dean crossed his arms, large and meaty, waiting for you to get up. "I already told ya, quit whining' and get up." 

You huffed and rolled your eyes— getting up to stand. Dusting off any dirt and grime on your clothes, you crossed your own arms and gazed at him. Eyes narrowed. "What is your problem?" You hissed. "Why'd ya have to— to drag me back!" 

Dean rolled his eyes. "This is exactly why. Your attitude won't cut it in this line of work, for cryin' out loud." He pinched his temple, right between his thick brows, the lines on his face more prominent than ever. You did a really good job at making him age by the second— and he was already old as is! 

The old dog was the definition of loyal. Having been working for the ranchers since he was young. And now, with greying hair and decades of experience under his belt, Dean was the perfect mentor in their eyes. The hell were they thinking? The hell was he thinking? 

"Yeah, sure,'' Dean said. Not paying any mind to the farmer's request. Something about some cat arriving next week. He's trained a couple of their guardians before, whats a recon cat to him? He's the top dog 'round this place, second in command if you may. Any new faces got to deal with him first. 

Unfortunately, the pretty little cat they took in was far from easy. 

A hellspawn he'd called you. Not outright of course. Dean still had some decency left in him, no matter how much you tested him. But he did imply it, a more passive aggressive approach. Let you know he was really disappointed with such a brat to deal with. Huffing and puffing like some wolf 'bout to blow the hay. 

"Yeah well you didn't have to grab me by the hair!" He eyed the finger pointed at him, scoffing. Completely unthreatened. Dean was big, a tank that won't be moved so easily. That dainty little finger you waved around? Laughable. Course, he did stare at it a bit too long for his own comfort— unsure why thoughts of how easy it would be to just... handle and carry you around like a sack of feathers. 

"Boy, you're givin' me a damn headache. Recon cats are supposed to be— what? Agile? Quick? Behaved? Is chasing butterflies your job or what?" Dean raised his voice. You winced at the jab. He frowned, eyes softening the tiniest bit. 

"C'mon kid. The farm’s still away. We don't wanna get stuck out in the dark." Dean nodded his head to the distance, a faint silhouette of your new home. He trudged forward without waiting for you. 

You sighed, posture slumping. Yet you followed along anyway, dragging your feet on the ground. 

"Stupid fuckin' old dog," you murmured, plopping down on your bed. It was small and creaky, put together last minute. Much like your room. Pretty sure it was an old storage closet without the shelfs lining the walls to make room. 

It was dusty, and cramped. Reeaaal welcoming. Guess they thought a room small as this would be fine, considering you weren't that hunkering anyway. At least Dean gets a proper room. 

You sneer, feeling your blood boil at the thought of his name. "Who does he think he is? He's not the boss of me." Well... he kinda is. But whatever! It's not like you signed up for this anyway. Some boring countryside life looking out for barn animals and whatnot? Psh. Boooring! 

"Some big old hunk bossin' me around... hmph." You lay on your back, the mattress was thin and barely did anything to soften the rough wood of your bed frame. Pretty sure your back’s gonna ache quicker than Deans. 

A small snicker escapes you, lips curling into a smile. The image sends you a rush of amusement. Tiny giggles echo in your room— sounding like some maniac locked up in a padded cell with only his ideas to keep him company. 

Dean stops outside your door. Hand raised midway the air, curled into a fist. He was about to call you out for dinner, escort you to the kitchen so you wouldn't get into any more trouble. But your laughter made him stop dead in his tracks. 

He was dumbfounded, kinda. You sounded so innocent despite your... behaviour. Huh. It was almost cute. Endearing, even. Dean coughs, shaking his head. An annoyed frown tugged on his lips.

Ain't no way in hell. Never in my life would I... 

Ah. But he has already fallen for you? Slowly and surely, even if he was unaware. The day you arrived on the farm, all prickly like a cactus. He almost found it cute (he did). But he wasn't sure if the intense feelings that were harbored deep in his chest was a really intense anger or something else entirely. 

Something Dean had never thought to consider. 

Affection. 

Affection? For him? Dean blanched. He stepped back from the door like it burned him.The fucking cat? With his naughty attitude and god-forsaken defiance? Dean couldn't count how many times you stuck your tongue out at him, getting him all riled up. But fuck, maybe he did find it cute. So what? He's just a lonely old man, what's he supposed to do when the heavens throw a feline right into his arms? 

A feline that'd fit in them all nice and snug, with how small you were compared to him. That's the first thing that came to mind when he laid his eyes on your form. 

"Are ya tryin' ta kill me? That little thing's our recon?" Dean scoffed that night, complaining his heart out. "I don't know what you were thinkin'— what's he gonna do against coyotes? Wriggle and squirm?" 

And unfortunately, it had only plagued him more as time went on. When he was introducing himself to you— albeit begrudgingly. You were just standing there, leaning against the wall. Acting all smug as if Dean didn't dwarf you by a landslide. Like he couldn't just pick ya up if he wanted to, swing you over his shoulders. 

The thought made him a bit too excited. 

When he was tourin' you 'round the barn. Walking behind him like some shadow. Even his sharp ears couldn't hear your footsteps— feel your presence. Light as a feather, indeed. Maybe he doubted you too much. 

Earlier when he was dragging you on the field. Truth be told, he didn't mean to be so rough. Never in his life has Dean laid his hands on his juniors. But with you? It was an entirely different story. There was something about you that ignited feelings he didn't even know he could feel! It was a whole new area for him. 

But god. Temptation had been building up, and Dean was only a man who could hold on for so long. He'd lost control, when those sinful thoughts kept him up. Shame welling in his being for every lewd image his mind conjured up in the middle of the night, keeping him from sleeping and getting some shut eye like an old dog should, as you said. 

Gods, and how many times had you jabbed at his age? He ain't even that old! 

It only made him feel guiltier. You were a young thing— all pretty and shiny. Like a brand new chew toy for Dean to maul on. Sink his teeth into your pristine skin, leave red marks that'd prove his territory. (Territory. And this guy has the nerve to act like he doesn't have feelings for you!) What sounds would you make? If he bit deep and hard, licked up the marks afterwards. Dirty dog. 

"Fuck," Dean snarled, dragging a calloused palm down his face. He stood in the hallway, trying to cancel out your laughter. What was he here for again? Right. Dinner. 

Well shit, ain't Dean got dinner right here? Beyond that door, laying on the bed... 

He turned his head away swiftly, ragged breaths leaving his chapped lips. Chest heaving up and down. "No, no... calm down. You ain't feel like that—" Dean chuckled. But it sounded more like a pathetic strain. "Not for him." 

He didn't call you out for dinner, and he didn't eat either. But that hunger would get you both sooner or later. 

"Just... a little... bit... more...!" You groaned, hand outstretched. Curse these tall cabinets. It's not like giants live here! And what the fuck was up with Dean? He was supposed to call you for dinner! 

You actually fell asleep but that doesn't matter. 

What matters now, is the hunger in your stomach driving you crazy. The rumbles could echo in the barn if they got any louder. It was embarrassing enough as it is. 

Sneaking around, avoiding the creaky floorboards. Ears raised and alert for any and every sound made. What were you? A spy? You live here! 

"Goddammit, coulda saved me some leftovers. Even a grain would've been nice." You grumbled, sighing and rolling your eyes. Pouting at the thought of the meal you missed. Damn barn animals and their never ending greed. Not even a single scrap was put away for little ol' you. 

You were so caught up in your actions that you failed to notice a figure entering the kitchen, getting a nice front view of your behind. Huh. Why were you archin' your back like that anyway? 

Dean froze, mind blue screening temporarily as his eyes registered your ass all puckered out in the dark. 

He had given in to his hunger, forgetting about dinner after his... ahem, revelations. Curled up in bed, sulking in denial like he was about to be put down. Pathetic really. Since when did Dean get worked up over pretty kitties? 

Since you, apparently. 

He thought about it. Since you were their first recon cat, he didn't have much experience with felines. Only knew that they were playful, independent, and incredibly alluring. Dangerously so that when you've fallen for one, oh brother, there is no getting back up. 

Might as well dig yourself a hole in the ground to live in. 

Playful, when you gave jokes he wouldn't understand. Quick-witted, aren't you? With a smart little mouth that said all sorts of things. Curiosities and glimpses of your personality past the shallow image of a no-good cat. That twinkle in your eyes every time your soft lips curved into a smile, a triumphant "hmph!". You just loved being right, didn't you? 

Independent, always going off on your own. No matter how many times Dean reprimanded you, kept you from wandering too far. Curiosity kills the cat, after all. That's what he said, and that was the first time you rolled your eyes at him too. Wonder what it'd look like if he made them roll back for a different reason. Dean could only sigh and expect a headache to form whenever you weren't round the barn. Away from the fence and enjoying the scenery like some tourist. 

And finally: Alluring. 

As much as he didn't want to admit it. You had this charm that... well, charmed him. He beat himself up over it. But everytime he promised himself to stop— the obsession only got more intense. Every time you weren't looking he'd catch a quick glimpse. Admire your features, rake his eyes down your figure in silent appreciation. Whenever he entered a room, Dean found himself looking for you. And when you entered one? He'd feel your presence immediately. 

It was ridiculous, how downright bad he was. 

Maybe it was fate. Here, with you oblivious to his presence, arching your back and presenting yourself (unknowingly) to Dean. 

He stepped closer, silently. A shadow casted over his face. 

You could only widen your eyes and gasp in shock when two hands placed themselves onto your hips, keeping you in place. "Gah! Dean!?" You yelped, blinking at him curiously. Sweat built up on your temple, heart caught in your throat. 

"I wasn't doing anything! Just... looking for food, I swear!" You reasoned, still planted on your palms for balance. 

Dean only hummed, massaging invisible circles into your skin with his thumbs. "That so?" He said. You shivered. What the hell? What was that? Why did he sound so... intense? 

"What're you doin' up late at night?" He asked, brow raised. Eyes boring into yours. Had the nerve to sound suspicious, too. "You were supposed to call me for dinner, don't act surprised." You huffed, turning away. 

Dean only tugged you closer— hips meeting yours. Stupid kitty. Even now you have the nerve to act so high and mighty. Maybe Dean should teach you humbleness, take you from your throne for a little while. 

"Don't test me," Dean growled, satisfaction creeping in his blood as he watched you tremble. "Mh," he hummed. Yeah. You were tiny. 

"Test you? What the hell are you—" Riiip! In an instant, the cold air had latched itself onto your skin. Dean tore apart the seam in your shorts— right in the cleft of your ass. His tail has begun to wag, eyeing the cute rim staring at him. 

You were too shocked to make a sound, and even then, before you could react, Dean had dove right in, licking and nibbling at your pucker. "Huh- ah!" Your claws dug onto the wooden counter, leaving scratch marks. Dean slobbered up your hole like a man starved, saliva dripping down your chin. 

He licked and licked, made you dizzy til' your hole was nice and soft. His tongue was rough and textured, making your cock tingle and come to life. "W-wait, it's dirty down there!" 

Dean wrapped his hand around the base of your tail, tugging it upwards to bury his face deeper into your behind. Slowly, he breached your insides, licking up at your gummy walls. Your soft whimpers was like music to his ears. Oh, he felt fulfilled. 

But not quite. 

"O-oh..." you gasped softly, blush blooming on your cheeks. Dean was massaging your insides with his tongue, desperate and needy. His movements were quick yet deep and stimulating— as if he was looking for something. 

"Hnn!~" Your tongue lolled out, thighs tensing up. Unkowingly, you began to thrust your hips baclwards, meeting Deans licks. His tongue rolled onto a soft bud inside— a sensitive cluster of nerves that made you weak in the knees. "F-fuck..." 

Dean continued his assault on your prostate, never once breaking his pace. His eyes were closed shut, as if he was trying to savor the taste and feeling— keep this memory in his mind forever. His own cock jumped in his jeans, straining to be released. 

You were so warm... so tight. He couldn't wait to bury his cock to the hilt, make your belly bulge and fill you to the brim. Hump you like a dog in rut— fuck. "Uh... guh!" 

Dean parted himself from your ass, panting and heaving. Your rim was shiny with spit, legs trembling and cock leaking pre pathetically. 

It was silent for a moment. Until you heard a belt buckle, followed by a zipper and the sound of fabric falling to the floor. 

And then you felt it. 

Deans cock. Hard and hot— rubbing against your behind. Fuck. How big was that? It felt huge! You whined softly, fear striking you. But there was excitement as well, you had never done this before, and for someone like Dean to make you experience it... 

Naughty. 

You had been nothing but a brat your time here, but you couldn't deny that Dean was a good looking man when you first met. Tall and buff, yet soft. Hair on his arms and chest, a little grey in his hair. Lines around his eyes and lips... you shivered. God. What did his cock look like? 

What would it feel like, to take him nice and deep? 

You bit your lip. Dean continued to rub his length between your cheeks for a goodwhile, like he was easing you into the harsh fucking to come. "Fuck, can't wait anymore." Dean groaned, and pushed his tip against your tight vice. 

He held your hips firmly, keeping you in place as you wriggled. He was big! Your pathetic rim struggled to envelop his tip. 

Dean's mind raced as his hips rocked up, driving his thick cock deep into your tight hole. The boy was so small, so delicate compared to his large frame. Your slender body bounced with each thrust. 

"Fuck, boy..." Dean groaned, fingers digging into the cat's hips hard enough to leave marks. "You feel s' good around my cock. So hot 'n tight..." 

He knew this was wrong. You were his junior, and Dean was supposed to be disciplining you, teachin' you the ways 'round the barn. Not... fucking you senseless. But god, the way your velvety walls clenched around him, the sweet little noises spilling from those plush lips— it was too much to resist. 

Dean's balls slapped against your ass as he pistoned his hips faster, chasing his rapidly approaching climax. "Fuck, fuck," he snarled. "Take it." 

The lewd squelch of saliva and the slap of skin on skin filled the kitchen. He could feel you shaking apart on his cock, the boy's neglected dick bobbing between their bellies, flushed an angry red and leaking steadily. 

He reached around to palm your cock, jerking you in time with his erratic thrusts. Huh. For and old dog— he sure had stamina. 

Dean's thumb swiped over the sensitive head, smearing the copious precum. You let out a high, keening wail, back arching as his orgasm crashed over him. Pearly ropes of cum painted Dean's fist and splattered across the counter as your hole clamped down around his pistoning length. 

The pressure sent Dean hurtling over the edge. With a guttural groan, he slammed you back onto his cock, all the way down to the hilt. Bulging your belly. At the same time, he had bit onto your shoulder, breaking skin and leaking blood. 

Your body twitched, eyes rolled back and unfocused. You leaned forward, finding support on the wooden counter (now littered with scratch marks) as Dean massaged your hips. "Hah.. haahh.." 

Uncontrollable sighs escaped you, bones melting against Dean. Smaller spurts of semen shooting out of Dean's tip sent shocks down your spine, smaller cock red and spent. With your cum dribbling down onto your tiny balls. 

Sweat trickled down their skin, breaths heavy. Illuminated in the moons light. 

Finally, with a groan, Dean pulled out (albeit begrudgingly) of your warm hole. 

He watched, transfixed, as a string of his cum connected his softening cock to your puffy, well-used hole. The sight made his spent dick twitch with interest. Fuck, he could do this all night. 

Ah... but you seemed tired. He chuckled, eyeing your spent form. All sweaty and twitchy. Particularly focused on the bite mark that stuck out on your shoulder. 

"Congratulations, boy. Now yer a true, fully-fledged recon cat.”

this was supposed to be lamb reader but idk,,, let me see how this does first then ill think abt it :3 ALSO WHAT IS IT WITH ME AND CAT READER??? ffuckin cat burglar n heavenly,,, urg. So sorry guys idk. I just love pussy!!

[taegimood]

— nudes?! (c.bg) ♡

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader genre: best friends to ?, non-idol au, suggestive rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1.2k warnings: mention/description of reader’s nudes, beomgyu imagines Doing Things and gets hard, implication of sexy time at the end, they’re both horny for each other synopsis: what happens when your best friend who secretly has the hots for you accidentally sees your nudes?

requested forever ago by @mapofthemazeinthemirror <3 [blog status: semi-hiatus, requests closed]

| yeonjun ver. | soobin ver. | taehyun ver. | kai ver. |

masterlist

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beomgyu is often not too hard to read.

your goofy best friend who'd rather cause mischief than let a situation turn boring, who loves to stir things up and watch the chaos unfold around him.

but one thing that you just can't seem to get a grasp on... is how he really feels about you.

as well as you can confidently say that you know choi beomgyu, the never-ending mixed signals he throws at you may just be your downfall in that department, from the outrageous flirting towards you on one end of the spectrum to the bragging of his latest phone number acquirement on the other.

i mean, what are you supposed to think when he's sweetly tucking your hair behind your ear one second and then commenting on how pretty that passing girl is the next? (unbeknownst to you, he's actually just trying to gauge your reaction).

but at this point you've had enough of the guessing games. you're gonna take things into your own hands and find out exactly how he really feels.

...or at least... that's what you told yourself, when you'd laid out across your sheets and took those coy little pictures, fully nude and fully ready to "accidentally" send them to your best friend to see what he would do;

but now, you release a resigned sigh as you set your phone aside untouched and tug your — his — sweater further over your shoulders in the chilly air of your room.

"stupid beomgyu," you grumble. "stupid me... stupid idea."

your lost confidence seems to mock you as your phone suddenly buzzes with a text from none other than the exact man of the hour, and you huff as you read it.

— hellspawn 🙄🤎: i'm coming over

his contact name feels as fitting as ever. "right, just invite yourself on in," you mutter to yourself (as if that's not exactly what the two of you always do anyways).

you have half a mind to respond with something snarky, but instead you just leave it be as you stare down at the nudes still sitting hauntingly unsent in your end of the message box, and with a shiver you resort to sticking your tongue out at his contact picture and leaving the text unanswered as you punch the air in a mini fit and toss your phone away into your pillows.

"i hate boys."

and with that, you grouchily trudge your way into the living room to start up the show that you've been binging together, phone and pictures forgotten.

unfortunately.

because what you don't know, but what you're soon about to find out, is just how crazy your best friend actually is about you — and as beomgyu stands frozen outside of your apartment building, staring down at his phone with a short-circuiting brain and eyes growing blurred from lack of blinking in the chilly night air, convenience store bag full of snacks falling forgotten to the ground — well.

he didn't even buy a lottery ticket, but it seems he's just won.

your naked body glows back at him from his screen as he fumbles back into motion, urging his fingers to remember their own mobility as he gulps and swipes hungrily through the array of photos that you'd sent.

hurriedly he brushes his long hair out of his eyes as it falls forward, his hunched frame in the middle of the sidewalk probably resembling that of a homeless man as he holds his phone close, shielding the sight of you from any prying eyes (there are none) while his thoughts suddenly erupt into every possible direction.

is this really happening? is this real life? what does this mean? is this a confession? she obviously wants me too, then, right? shit, should i have dressed better? do i smell okay? should i run back home and — oh god, what if these were meant for someone else? did she really mean to send them? what if she never speaks to me again? oh god, she's so.. she's so.. holy fuck.

beomgyu is breathless as his eyes roam across your soft skin, your pretty curves, the sly hint of a smirk peeking from your lips as your finger slips between them —

he feels his cock straining tighter against his pants the longer that he scrolls.

relishing in the sight that he's been dreaming of for so long, he imagines it were his hand wrapped gently around your throat instead of your own, his fingers caressing your bare tits and sliding down beyond the camera where his imagination is left to run wild — fuck, he's gotta get up there.

forcing himself to tear his eyes away, he quickly gathers the scattered snacks and stuffs them mindlessly back into their convenience store bag as he hurries towards the entrance of your building, not even needing to think twice as he inputs the code and all but lunges for the elevator.

"alright, be cool, be cool, be cool."

the deep breaths he's been taking and mini self pep talk he's been mumbling all but crumble away meaningless when he types in your apartment's passcode and opens the door to see you standing there by the couch wearing his sweater, so big on you that it's easy to pretend that your little pair of shorts underneath aren't even there;

and he's suddenly grateful for the long length of his hair as he feels the way his ears burn red underneath, but the inevitable flush on his face doesn't escape your notice as you glance up at him for a moment before turning your attention back to the tv remote in your hand.

"why do you look like you just ran a fucking marathon?" you scoff. "did the ahjumma downstairs hit you with her grocery bag again?"

but beomgyu is far beyond saving as images of you underneath him flicker across his mind, now no longer fueled by his imagination but by the real thing that you'd just graced him with minutes before.

"those for me?"

you pause. his voice is raspy, strained, almost breathless.

you glance back up at him. your brows pull together in confusion.

"huh?"

beomgyu barely breaks eye contact with you as he unlocks his phone, wordlessly holding it up to show you, eyes raking over your face for your reaction;

the remote falls to the floor with a thunk as your eyes widen and hands fly up to clap over your mouth in shock.

what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck- I SENT THEM?!?!

you rip your eyes away from the sight of your own body on his screen to meet his burning stare, and when you do — all excuses fizzle away as a shiver runs along your spine and straight down to your core.

the desire pooled in your best friend's eyes is unlike any look you've ever seen on him before, breaths coming out labored from his chest though he tries to control them; and when he takes a step forwards and asks again, voice deep and words punctuated,

"were those for me?"

you're nothing but a goner as you answer him with shaky legs and a nod.

the triumphant grin that spreads across beomgyu's blushing face is downright sinful as his bag of snacks once again meets a forgotten fate on the ground — along with his jacket that he immediately shrugs off of his shoulders, already reaching for the hem of his sweatshirt as he moves towards you with well-mustered boldness and says,

"should've waited for me, sweetheart. we could’ve taken them together.”

─────────────────────���

— taglist: @razsberrie, @saejinniestar, @hyukalyptus, @florestalio, @beomiracles, @kiss4baku, @hyukascampfire, @kejingken, @cherr4es, @stawmerry, @choikanghuening, @dawngyu, @soo-blue, @paradigms13

if you want to be added to my taglist and get notified whenever i post any writing, drop a comment or an ask and let me know! ♡

[astonmartinii]

a case of the cuddle bug | logan sargent social media au

pairing: logan sargent x fem!piastri!reader

someone check his temperature, he's got a serious case of the cuddle bug

author's note: thought we could all use some logan content to get us through the weekend

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 201,445 others

tagged: logansargent

yourusername: he's not racing :( more time to cuddle :)

view all comments

user1: if i find out that that t-shirt was made by them i may need to be shot in the head

yourusername: sorry to be the bearer of bad news 😕

user2: y/n where do we find a logan?

yourusername: date your brother's best friend - the romance books did NOT lie

logansargent: hard to be too sad when you're around

yourusername: awwwww logie bear 🐻 i love youuuuu

logansargent: i love you too come back to the motorhome the hospitality coffee is not worth it

yourusername: not even if i swipe you a cupcake?

logansargent: okay..... maybe ....

alexalbon: i'm sorry buddy, i promise i'll do us proud

yourusername: yOU BETTER 👹

alexalbon: i'm soRRY are you like a gremlin? did someone spill some water?

yourusername: i'm gonna ignore most of that cause gizmo is cute

logansargent: she loves you really alex

alexalbon: do you still love me logie?

logansargent: yes?

alexalbon: I' SORRY I HAVE.A GUILTY CONSCIENCE I DON'T LIKE PEOPLE BEING MAD AT ME

user3: lol mood ^

oscarpiastri: you could support your BELOVED BROTHER NOW (AT HIS (OUR) HOME RACE)

yourusername: ugh i guess

oscarpiastri: you literally said you'd support me any time logan wasn't racing :(

yourusername: unless he can come with me, we'll be supporting you from the williams garage

oscarpiastri: better than nothing i guess

logansargent

liked by oscarpiastri, alexalbon and 459,046 others

tagged: yourusername

logansargent: no way around it, this weekend has been the hardest of my career. however, i'm thankful for alex for picking up a couple points for the team and for having y/n with me to support me this weekend, enjoy the cute picture of her (but not too much)

also i guess congrats to oscar on a podium at his home race 🤷🏻‍♂️

view all comments

user4: hardest weekend ever... here's a pic of my. hot gf :)))))

user5: he's real for that, just reminding us that he's still winning off track

alexalbon: thank you isn't enough logie, love you man, can't wait to see you back in the car next week x

yourusername: you're so lucky you got points otherwise your ass would've been grass xoxo

alexalbon: Y/N I SAID I WAS SORRY PLEASE STOP BEING MEAN YOU'RE MEANT TO BE THE NICE PIASTRI

oscarpiastri: you stole my soon-to-be brother-in-law's car and called me a shit padel player 🖕🏻

alexalbon: why is everyone ganging up on me :(

logansargent: you gotta take it for at least this weekend bro

alexalbon: i guess...

user6: they're so cute, but who is taking these photos of them?

yourusername: oscar makes himself useful sometimes

oscarpiastri: ugh i get NO CREDIT IN THIS FAMILY

logansargent: i at least appreciate it oscar 🫶🏻

oscarpiastri: that's all well and good and i love you, you're my bff but sometimes i don't want to see you be lovely dovey with that hellspawn

fredvesti: let it be known i will no longer be sneaking out with you guys for ice cream on a race weekend, the risk was not worth the third wheeling

logansargent: i paid?

fredvesti: thank the lord you did otherwise i'd raise an official complaint

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, alexalbon and 793,209 others

tagged: logansargent & yourusername

oscarpiastri: got a podium at my home race and i'm still not my sister's favourite

view all comments

user8: have we considered that y/n and logan have attachment issues?

oscarpiastri: she sat at the window like a woman waiting for her husband at war when he DARED to go home for christmas when we were 16

yourusername: as if you haven't cried over lily 🙄

oscarpiastri: i ACTUALLY don't get to see her very often, i can't separate you and logan

yourusername: LEAVE ME BE

user9: oscar says this as if y/n wasn't crying her eyes out at the podium

user10: and logan wiping her tears to prevent smudging her eyeliner - sigh

logansargent: don't hate the player hate the game

oscarpiastri: what happened to blood being thicker than water

yourusername: you know what else is thicker than water ... 😩😩😩

oscarpiastri: okay you can sTOP RIGHT THERE

landonorris: they're really one being huh?

oscarpiastri: believe me the dinner at mine? they were being TAME

yourusername: okay for the audience we are not that bad, we're just affectionate we aren't like making out in front of everyone

landonorris: .... shame

oscarpiastri: yOU HAVE SHAME THAT'S MY SISTER

logansargent: THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND

yourusername: AND THAT'S MY BOYFRIEND

landonorris: damn tough crowd

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 212,934 others

tagged: logansargent

yourusername: a wee break before my boy is back to knock your socks off

view all comments

user11: they're so cute your honour

alexalbon: dating a racing driver and not wearing a seat belt? interesting.

yourusername: dating a professional golfer and still shit at golf? interesting.

lilymunhe: she did get you there alex, soz.

yourusername: also we weren't even driving, that hair acting is all a fan

logansargent: practically a professional photographer now (the model definitely helps, she looks perfect doing anything)

yourusername: hehehheheheheheheheheheheeh

user12: y/n really just gagging alex at every corner

user13: she saw logan wasn't holding a grudge and decided to double down on hers

user14: and we respect that

logansargent: you knock my socks off everyday babe

yourusername: as long as it's only me 😘

logansargent: i've been in love with you since i was 13 👍🏻

yourusername: SNAP🫰

oscarpiastri: once again left out of the photodump

yourusername: you are not 'my boy' that would in fact be inappropraite

oscarpiastri: you couldn't just change the caption?

yourusername: you're not cute enough to be a lannister (cersei and jaime call me)

logansargent: ????

yourusername: *call us 😉

logansargent

liked by lilymunhe, alexalbon and 592,309 others

tagged: yourusername

logansargent: glad to be back in the car this weekend, though if alex could stop terrorising y/n that would be great

view all comments

user15: were oscar and y/n's parents in the williams garage?

user16: so oscar wasn't lying about him basically being family already 🥹

alexalbon: i was not TERRORISNG I WAS ENGAGING IN SIBLING LIKE BANTER

oscarpiastri: hold on buster, that's MY sister 🤨

alexalbon: i can't win with any of you three 😭

yourusername: LET'S FUCKING GO EAGLE BOY GOD BLESS AMERICA 🦅🇺🇸

logansargent: i'll let you have this one for once

yourusername: as an aussie that was very hard to say, please appreciate it

logansargent: thank you my little kangaroo?

yourusername: kinda offensive they're scary

logansargent: koala?

yourusername: YOU SAYING I HAVE CHLAMYDIA?

logansargent: well i've ran out of australian animals now :(

user17: thanks for the violent reminder of chlamydia being rife in koalas :(

oscarpiastri: gonna have to beat you this weekend to win back my parents' favour it seems

yourusername: let's be real, they prefer logan over both of us :(

oscarpiastri: true 😔

logansargent: i can't help the southern charm

williamsf1

liked by yourusername, alexalbon and 1,034,672 others

tagged: logansargent

williamsf1: LOGAN POINTS, I REPEAT LOGAN POINTS 😤

view all comments

user20: TRUST HIM, I REPEAT TRUST HIM

yourusername: THAT'S MY BOY LET'S FUCKING GO

oscarpiastri: you never get this excited for me?

yourusername: FUCK OFF THIS IS NOT YOUR TURN, IT'S LOGAN'S DAY

maxverstappen1: pretty sure i won the race

yourusername: FUCK OFF ALL OF YOU

user21: y/n crying her eyes out she's so real

user22: based on the faces in the garage i think she may have let everything out lol

user23: as she should

user24: can't expect two people to be attached 24/7 and not be ride or die for each other

logansargent: thanks for the support, glad to pick up some points for the team

yourusername: I'M SO PROUD OF YOU

logansargent: i know you've shouted it in my face since i got back from media

yourusername: you need to know it :(

logansargent: i love you so much

yourusername: i love you even more

user25: the whole piastri family going wild in LOGAN'S garage was not on my 2024 bingo sheet

user26: but it was cute as fuck

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 287,045 others

tagged: logansargent

yourusername: we're down bad with a case of the cuddle bug

view all comments

user27: the CUDDLE BUG?

user28: i need to be taken out of my misery

logansargent: i've got a high fever, a love fever

oscarpiastri: THAT WAS CORNY AS FUCK

yourusername: i thought it was cute :(

logansargent: and that's what matters

yourusername: exactlyyyyy

oscarpiastri: so fuck me, right?

yourusername: yes!

logansargent: yes!

user29: this whole interaction makes it so obvious oscar was the only boy growing up LOL

alexalbon: i'll concede, you guys are cute

yourusername: we been known

logansargent: no one does it like us

alexalbon: erm alex and lily erasure?

yourusername: lily cute, you not so much

alexalbon: stop being SO PROTECTIVE WHY ARE YOU A GOLDEN RETRIEVER WITH EVERYONE ELSE AND A RABID JACK RUSSELL WITH ME IT WAS JAMES' DECISION GO FOR JAMES' ANKLES

williamsf1: ???

yourusername: i thought it was friendly sibling banter (also james is logie's boss of course i'm not gonna go for his ankles dummy)

logansargent: she's my little guard dog 🫶🏻

yourusername: anything for you, come back to cuddle :(

logansargent: on my way cuddle bug!

fin.

note: i understand why williams made the decision they did, but i've had such a soft spot for logan since he admitted he's lonely in the paddock :( i hope he has a good next race to really prove himself to everyone xx hope you enjoyed! xx

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

Thank you so much for the part 2 of the shapeshifter AU! 🙏 The atmosphere is so singularly spooky and sultry. Keep up the great work!

on it boss!!

70 / 1.6k / part 3 of shapeshifter familiars!141 tormenting witch!reader

...

You wait until the early evening. It's the earliest you can run. Your so-called familiars won't come out while the sky is still bright. Even so, the moon’s faint sliver stands faintly visible against the sky. You pack your things and fetch your traveling cloak. Vital components. Your dagger. Scrying parchment. You've survived on less.

Something catches your eye as you open the door. The setting sun gleams off the little glass vial on your hearth. You grab it. It's the thing Soap left—what he was teasing you about; the "little treat" he brought back. You see now what it is: black henbane. Your heart beats faster. Out of anger or anticipation—you're not sure which wins out. You'll certainly make use of this. But it will be despite your demons. Not because of them.

As you set off to leave, though, you find yourself face-to-face with a different threat altogether: townsfolk with torches and pitchforks.

The mob's torches flicker, casting jagged shadows across their grim faces. Their leader, a broad-shouldered blacksmith with soot-stained hands, steps forward. The pitchfork trembles in his harsh grip. "Off to consort with devils, witch?"

Behind him, a farmer's wife spits at your feet. "My boy hasn't slept since your cursed raven perched on our roof! You sent those monsters to torment us!"

A ripple of agreement surges through the crowd. You catch the glint of silver amulets around their throats—crude charms of rowan berries and iron nails. Your designs.

"I don't want any trouble," you tell them. You already intend to leave this place forever; all you need to do is convince them to let you go in peace. "I swear it. I condemn the demons that plague the village just as you do."

The blacksmith's shout cracks like a whip. "Liar!" He thrusts his pitchfork toward your cottage and the crow feathers littering the threshold. "Found your nest o' nightmares. Bones under the floorboards. Charms written in your hand guidin' those beasts!"

A teenage boy hurls a rock. It grazes your temple with a thump that rings in your skull. "She fed my sister to the black dog! Saw its yellow eyes in her window the night she vanished!"

Then a torch arcs through the dusk. It crashes against your doorframe, tallow and embers cascading onto dry thatch. The farmer's wife screams, "Burn the hellspawn out!"

Other voices roar in agreement. The mob surges forward as one. Their amulets glow faintly as they near your wards, rowan countering rowan.

You slam the door shut, scattering glowing red hay, and bolt for the back door instead. You flee toward the forest. Warm blood slides down your face and trickles into your collar. You crash through the tree line. Brambles tear your cloak. Torchlight dances between birches behind you. They’re gaining.

"Kill her before she calls the beasts!" one voice shrieks.

Another voice, a child’s, cries, “There! By the elder tree!”

Your boot catches on its massive roots. You hit the forest floor hard. Pine needles stick to your bleeding palms as you scramble up—and freeze.

Yellow eyes blink open in the shadows ahead. A wolf.

The blacksmith’s heavy gait clatters to a halt. “Christ preserve us.”

The hound steps into the fading daylight, scars rippling across its muscular flank. Ghost. He bares teeth longer than your fingers.

You back away only for another shadow to fall from the trees above and land next to you soundlessly. The shape is feline—Gaz—but he's no longer the size of a housecat. He's as massive as a tiger. A growl thunders through him. He levels his gaze past you. At the villagers. They don't stand a chance.

You whirl back on the villagers with wild eyes. "Get out of here!" you cry at the mob.

The blacksmith shoves a trembling boy behind him. "Back! Back to the—"

Ghost lunges. Not at the villagers. At you.

His jaws snap inches from your thigh, herding you backward into Gaz's flank. Gaz pins you with one paw on your chest. He keeps his claws sheathed, but the pressure is enough to bruise. His rumbling purr vibrates through your ribs as he licks blood from your temple wound.

"Demons!" A villager hurls a torch. It bounces off Ghost's shoulder. Embers catch in his fur. He doesn't flinch.

Soap's cawing laughter rings from the treetops. He drops down as a raven, shifting mid-fall into human form. He lands in a crouch. "Och, look at these brave lads! Come to play with the big bad devils."

The blacksmith thrusts the pitchfork at him. "Back!"

 Soap catches the shaft and yanks the smith forward. "Careful now. You'll poke someone's—" He drives the smith’s own weapon through his boot, impaling foot to soil. "—eyes out."

Screams erupt. The mob fractures. Some flee. Others stand frozen.

"No, don't hurt them!" you gasp out. You try to push out from under Gaz's paw, but it does you no good. "Leave them alone!"

Gaz's purr deepens into a predatory rumble as he drags his rough tongue up the side of your neck to taste your sweat. His hot breath stirs your hair when he growls, "Too late for mercy, love. Smell the fear on 'em? Ripe as summer fruit."

Soap wrenches the pitchfork free from the smith’s screaming form, flicking gore off the tines. "Aye, let's make it a proper feast! Been ages since we had fresh meat that fought back."

"Enough."

Price's voice cracks through the woods like thunder. He stands under the pines’ shadow as if waiting for the last motes of sunset to vanish before he ventures out.

"You lot should've heeded the warnings. Salt your thresholds. Avoid the woods after dark." His gazes pauses over a young child frozen in fear, no parents in sight. He tuts. "But you meddled. Stole from my witch. Harmed her."

The blacksmith finds his voice. "W-We didn't—"

Price steps forward. His boot crushes the smith’s bloodied foot into the ground. Bones pop. "See, that's the trouble with mortals." He crouches to stare into the terrified villager’s face. "You don’t admit you’re wrong."

"Price, please, just take me instead," you plead. "I'm what you came for, aren't I?"

Price's gaze snaps to you. He rises slowly. The flicker of your burning cottage on the horizon behind you reflects in his eyes and makes them glow. His expression tells you how little choice you have in that particular matter. Where you go, they go.

Then he looks past you. “Gaz."

Gaz’s hand slides up your inner thigh. "Already on it."

"No. Save the foreplay. We've got a village to raze." He grabs the bloodied collar of your cloak and hauls you to your feet. "You'll watch. Then we'll discuss your ungrateful actions." His gaze flicks away. "Ghost. Gaz. Clean up."

You can only watch Ghost and Gaz bound into the screaming mob. Your body feels lighter than the air. Then you remember the weight of the henbane in your cloak pocket. The next moment, it's in your hand. You crush the glass, ignoring the stab of pain. You send it sailing through the air, and it lands right on its mark—the roaring torch discarded in the leaf litter.

The henbane catches and wafts up into the air as smoke. It curls upward in thick, narcotic tendrils. The smell is heady, its effect potent and immediate. Soap snarls as the first plume hits his nostrils. He staggers back and clutches his head. Gaz convulses mid-pounce, collapsing into ferns as his tiger-like form shrinks to housecat size. Ghost whines low in his throat and shakes his massive skull like a dog with water in its ears.

Chaos erupts. Villagers seize the chance to bolt. The blacksmith drags his wailing son toward the tree line.

Price grips your arm hard enough to leave talon marks. His other hand clamps over his nose, veins bulging in his temple. You cough into your sleeve. Your vision swims. Henbane's poison works both ways, after all. It’s powerful for those who know how to use it for their own ends. Black henbane is what you used to summon your familiars and what bound them to you. But its hallucinatory effects are more pronounced on those who have surrendered the greater part of their souls to magic—or for those whose bodies are already flush with it. Price, Gaz, Ghost, and Soap don’t stand a chance. Even your soul is so considerably marked by witchcraft that you quickly fold to its effects. But you, at least, can twist it and warp it to weave a spell that might protect you.

Cloaked in smoke, you transform.

The shift hits you like a lightning strike—bones crackling, muscles twisting, vision narrowing into a something wide and preylike. The forest tilts, and suddenly Price's grip is gone. He holds your sleeve, but not you. You slip away, tumble through your limp clothes, and hit the forest floor on four paws. The world sharpens into smells of damp moss and wolf musk. Your rabbit heart hammers against ribs as thin as wishbones.

You dart left--straight into Gaz's waiting claws. The tomcat pins you with a paw, purring as his claws prick your scruff. Then he sneezes, henbane pollen glinting in his whiskers. You writhe free.

You race deeper into the forest with the wind at your back. The woods close in, but thorns no longer claw your clothes; roots no longer trip you. You are no longer an intruder. The forest itself turns toward you, opens to you. Thorns tug pleasurably against your fur as you bound past. Old magic stirs beneath your rabbit feet.

"Clever girl. Find her." Price's voice slithers through the trees far behind you, syllables slurred but venom intact. "And keep her whole enough to scream."

...

← part 2 / [part 3] / part 4 ➡

more Price / more Ghost / more Soap / more Gaz / masterlist

[blakeswritingimagines]

Would You Mind If I Said I'm Into You

Summary: Going out for a cute picnic date sounded good until Al decided he felt you didn't know any better.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: Public sex, Marking, Talk of the reader being a possession, Choking, Manhandling, Safe sex for once, Dom Spawn and Sub reader, That should be it but was also written at 3am so...

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Al Simmons/Hellspawn character/s nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

The picnic site is in a quiet, but public park - a perfect open space to lay out food and just enjoy each other's company. Spawn lays down a blanket under the shade of a tree in the green grass, its leaves swaying calmly in the breeze as he pats a spot next to himself for you to join him. You sit down on the blanket with Spawn, looking out over the tranquil park. The shade from the tree provides an oasis from the sunlight, and a gentle breeze rustles the leaves overhead, bringing a sense of tranquility to the area. You take a moment to soak in the peaceful atmosphere, enjoying the simple pleasure of being in the park with Spawn. "This is perfect," you say, your voice soft and calm. "It's so peaceful here." Spawn stretches out fully, his hands coming to rest under his head as he gazes up at the sun-dappled leaves above them. "Yes, it's a nice change from the constant chaos." He says, his voice also soft and casual. "I thought we could use a break from… well, everything."

You nod in agreement, your expression reflecting a mixture of contentment and relief. You mirror Spawn's relaxed pose, stretching out beside him on the blanket. "You're right," you reply, your gaze also directed toward the leaves dancing in the dappled sunlight. "It's been a hectic few weeks, to say the least. It's nice to have a moment of stillness like this." You glance over at Spawn, taking in his relaxed state and feeling a sense of warmth in your chest. Spawn tilts his head to look at you, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he chuckles. "We seem to have a knack for chaos," he says with a hint of amusement in his eyes. "But I agree, this is a nice change." He glances back up at the leaves, watching as they sway gently in the breeze. "I don't get many opportunities for moments like this with you." You smile at Spawn's observation, acknowledging the truth in his words. You turn your head to meet his gaze, your eyes sparkling with fondness. "That's true," you concede with a soft chuckle. "Our lives do tend to be filled with more drama than we'd like." You follow Spawn's gaze upward, admiring the graceful dance of the leaves against the sky. "But I'm glad we have moments like this too. Even if they're rare," you added, your voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

Spawn's grip on your hand tightens, his eyes taking on an almost possessive glint as he gazes at you. Every protective instinct within him surges forward, and he can't help but feel a fierce desire to keep you close in this moment, to keep you safe from anything that might harm you. "Me too," he says, his voice low and possessive. "These moments are worth fighting for if it means you're mine, just mine." He shifts closer to you, his body positioning itself slightly over yours as if to shield you from the rest of the world. You feel the intensity of Spawn's gaze and the possessive grip on your hand, your breath catching in your chest. You sense the overwhelming protectiveness emanating from him, the undeniable possessiveness in his voice. A shiver runs down your spine as he moves closer, his body hovering slightly above yours. You look up at him, your expression mixing with a hint of surprise and curiosity. "All yours, huh?" you murmur, a tiny smirk playing at the corners of your lips. His eyes darken at your response, the possessive glint in his gaze growing even more intense. He leans in closer, his body now fully hovering over yours, his hands resting on either side of your head. He looks down at you with a mixture of possessiveness and tenderness, his voice low and velvety. "Yes," he says, his tone firm and full of conviction. "All mine. Nobody else's." He lowers his body down further, his weight pressing against you as if to make his claim even more obvious.

You feel the weight of Spawn's body pressing against yours, his possessive declaration, and the intensity in his gaze sending a rush of butterflies through your stomach. You feel both trapped and aroused, your heart racing at his possessive behavior. You look up at him through your lashes, your expression a mix of submission and feigned resistance. "And what if someone else tries to claim me for themselves?" you ask, your voice laced with a hint of challenge. His eyes narrow at your question, his expression hardening as the thought of someone else trying to claim you causes a flicker of anger to flash in his eyes. He growls low in his throat, the possessiveness in him intensifying. "I won't allow it," he says, his voice firm and edged with a dangerous tone. "You belong to me, and only me. Anyone who tries to take you from me will have to go through me first." He presses his body against yours, asserting his claim even further, his hands gripping the grass on either side of your head.

You can feel the possessiveness radiating off Spawn, his intense gaze and the possessive growl sending a thrill through you. His declaration of ownership is clear, and you can feel his body pressing against yours, asserting his claim with each movement. You shiver, a mixture of fear and arousal coursing through you. You look up at him, your eyes locked with his, your breath coming in short gasps. "Is that so?" you ask, your voice sounding breathless. "And you'll defend your claim no matter what, huh?" He leans down closer, his face mere inches away from yours. His eyes lock with yours, and his gaze is intense, almost feral. He shifts his body to cover yours completely, his legs intertwining with yours as he cages you in. "Yes," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "I will defend my claim no matter what it takes. You are mine, and I won't let anyone take you from me." He reaches up, his hand gently stroking your cheek before trailing down your neck. "You belong to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you." You feel your body respond to his possessive touch, your heart racing. You're trapped underneath him, completely at his mercy, and you can feel the primal instincts within him taking over. You swallow, your throat dry, as you look up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of desire and submission. "I… I'm yours," you whisper, your voice trembling with a hint of vulnerability. "I belong to you."

His eyes darken further at your admission, and a possessive growl rumbles deep in his chest. He leans down, his lips hovering over yours, his breath hot on your skin. "Yes," he says, his voice filled with a primal hunger. "You're mine. Nobody else gets to claim you." He brushes his lips against your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin gently. "You belong to me," he repeats, his voice a possessive whisper. "Don't ever forget that." You shiver under his possessive touch, your body responding to his primal hunger. Your heart rate quickens as his lips hover over yours, his breath hot against your skin. You moan softly as his teeth graze your neck, your head tilting back to give him better access. "I won't forget," you breathe, your voice filled with a mixture of desire and submission. "I'm yours, and only yours. Nobody else's." His eyes fill with possessive satisfaction at your words, and he can't help but growl in approval. He claims your lips hard, his kiss filled with a primal hunger. His hands roam over your body, exploring every inch of your flesh, as if to reinforce his claim over you. "Good," he says, his voice a low growl. "Don't ever forget who you belong to." He nibbles at your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin, his body shifting to pin you even more firmly beneath him. He smirked again, suddenly grabbing your wrists and pinning them down against the grass on the sides of your head. He suddenly pressed down against you, his body hovering over yours. His voice was low and sultry as he spoke. "Don't like it when I hold you down and press against you like this? Don't you want more?"

You shiver as he pins your wrists down against the grass, his body hovering above you with a wildly possessive glint in his eyes. You feel your body responding to his domination, and against your will, you find yourself enjoying it. You look up at him with a mixture of desire and hesitation in your eyes. "I… I do," you admit, your voice trembling with a hint of submission. "I like it when you hold me down like this. It makes me feel… possessed." He leans down, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers dangerously. "Now I'm going to show you just how much you belong to me." He captures your lips in another possessive kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth and claiming it as his own. His body continues to press you into the grass, his weight holding you down, and his hands release your wrists in favor of roaming over your body, exploring every inch with possessive intent. You moan into his kiss, your body arching against his as his hands roam over you. You feel dominated and possessed by his touch, your mind clouded by desire and submission. You gasp as his tongue plunders your mouth, his body pressing yours into the grass, pinning you firmly beneath him unable to move. Your wrists are free now, and your hands wander up his arms, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. "I'm yours," you whisper breathlessly, your voice filled with submission. "I belong to you, completely."

His lips continue their descent, trailing down your neck and over your collarbone, his teeth grazing and nibbling against your skin, leaving a trail of possessive marks in their wake. His weight holds you down as his hands roam your body, exploring and claiming every inch. He can feel your shudder and gasp beneath him, your body's response fueling his possessive desire. "You're mine," he says, his voice a low possessive growl as he starts moving his hips against yours. "And I'm going to make damn sure you never forget that." You moan louder as his lips and teeth trail down your neck, marking your skin with possessive claims. You feel dominated and owned by him, and your body responds eagerly to his touch. Your hands grip his shoulders as his weight pins you to the ground, his hips grinding against yours feeling his bulge only getting harder, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through you. "I won't forget," you gasp, your voice full of submission. "I'm yours, only yours. Please, don't stop." With a low growl that vibrates from his chest, Al leans into your words, the sound of them fueling his desire. "Damn right, you're mine." His hands roam over your curves, squeezing your flesh, feeling every inch of you. He can smell your arousal, and taste it on his tongue. The way you submit to him, it's intoxicating. His cock throbs painfully between his legs, desperate for release. But not yet. Not until he's had his fill.

You arch your back, pressing your breasts further into Al's chest, silently begging for more of his touch. Your hips buck up against him, seeking friction, craving the relief only he can provide. "Please, Al," you whimper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I need you inside me. Make me yours completely." As you speak, your fingers dig into his shoulders, leaving red marks on his skin. You're lost in the moment, consumed by your desire for this man who has taken control of your body and soul. There's no turning back now; you've surrendered everything to him, and you wouldn't have it any other way. His breath hitches at your plea, the raw hunger in your voice driving him wild. Al lifts himself off of you just enough to rip open the condom packet with his teeth. He rolls it onto his throbbing member, his eyes never leaving your face. With a grunt, he positions himself at your entrance, teasing you with the tip of his cock before pushing in slowly, savoring the tight warmth that envelops him. "Fuck…you're so tight," he groans, beginning to move in slow, deliberate thrusts. Each movement is punctuated by your mingled moans, creating a symphony of lustful sounds.

The sensation of being filled by Al is overwhelming, and you let out a long, satisfied sigh as he begins to move within you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him to go faster. Your nails scrape along his back, leaving trails of pain mixed with pleasure. "Yes, like that," you encourage him, your voice laced with need. "Make me yours, take me, use me…" Every word is an invitation, a surrender, a promise of complete and utter submission. The hellish fury that burns within Al simmers beneath the surface, ready to erupt at any moment. But for now, he focuses solely on you, on claiming you, making you his in the most primal way possible. He picks up the pace, each thrust harder than the last, driven by a mix of raw power and insatiable desire. His hands grip your hips, guiding your movements, ensuring that every stroke hits its mark. "You're mine," he snarls, his voice thick with possession. "Only mine." You cry out as Al's powerful thrusts push you closer and closer to the edge. Your inner walls clench around him, trying to hold him inside as your orgasm builds. You've never felt anything like this before - the intensity, the passion, the sheer dominance of Al's lovemaking. It's both terrifying and exhilarating, leaving you breathless and wanting more. "Yours," you repeat, your voice a hoarse whisper. "Always yours." With a final, brutal push, Al drives into you one last time, and you shatter, your body convulsing in ecstasy as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. You're lost, utterly consumed by the dark, twisted love you share.

Al's roar of triumph echoes through the room as he buries himself deep inside your spasming pussy, his own release exploding through him like a volcanic eruption. His hot seed spills into the condom, marking you as his in the most fundamental way possible. For a moment, he remains still, savoring the feel of your clenching around him, milking him dry. Then, with a guttural growl, he withdraws, discarding the used condom and collapsing beside you, panting heavily. His eyes burn with a fierce, possessive light as he reaches out to claim you again, his hand closing around your throat. "Mine," he hisses, his voice low and dangerous. "And I'll never let you go." You gasp as Al's hand closes around your throat, cutting off your air supply. Panic surges within you, but you force yourself to relax, to trust him. After all, you know he would never harm you intentionally. Instead, you take a deep breath, filling your lungs with precious oxygen before he releases his grip. "Yours," you whisper, your voice choked with emotion. "Forever yours." You roll over to face him, your eyes locked on his as you trace a finger down his chest.

Al watches your finger trace down his chest, his gaze intense and unwavering. He can feel the weight of your submission, the depth of your devotion, and it stokes the flames of his possessiveness even higher. His hand slides up your thigh, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he pulls you closer. "You're mine," he says, his voice a low rumble. "My property, my plaything, my everything." His lips crashed down on yours in a brutal kiss, claiming your mouth as thoroughly as he claimed your body. When he finally breaks away, he growls, "Now, get on your knees and show me how much you want it."

[m00nchildthings]

ALUCARD X PREGNANT!READER

This story was based off of this one right here: https://www.tumblr.com/m00nchildthings/703854020457021440/mating-press-and-breeding-kink-with-alucard

if anything this can be read as a sequel where he managed to get you knocked up cw for pregnant reader, oral sex one sparing use of the reader being called mama, and alucard being a hovering creep towards you for carrying his child also slight pregnancy kink if you squint not even read over once bone apple teeth🧑‍🍳😙🤌

p.s. @yazzzmints @ch3rryistheg you asked and i delivered

“You’re hovering Adrian”.

“I do not hover,”

You sighed, closing the large ornate tome you had been reading and setting it on the small wooden table beside your chair. He was hovering and whether he was oblivious to it or simply choosing to be obtuse, he was doing it a hell of a lot more recently. You knew why though, you thought as you brought your hand over your swollen stomach. Seven months into your pregnancy and through every step Alucard had treated you and your unborn child like fine china perpetually teetering over a precocious edge.

“You are aware we won’t turn to ash the moment we leave your vision,” you said cheekily staring up at your dhampir lover. His eyes narrowed before he swept past you, moving to sit in the armchair beside your own. He sat there, for a moment beautiful like marble with his eyes closed, before turning to face you.

“I am very well aware of that,” he said, placing his chin in his hand as he peered at you. You hummed, turning away from him, instead choosing to focus on the crackling fireplace in front of you, pretending the warm embers floating around the wood were far more interesting than the golden haired man sitting next to you.

“Then I hope that you are also aware,” you began pausing to take a sip of the tea still hot on your side table “that fathers who hover around the pregnant wives are bound to produce children that do not enjoy their company,”

“That isn’t true,” you could see his brows furrow from your peripheral view, hiding your chuckle behind another sip of tea, you continued.

“It very well might be an old wives tale, but I have heard of children coming out fussy towards their fathers fresh out of the womb-,” you were cut off with a loud swoosh as Alucard gracefully stepped towards you settling down at his knees, hands placed on your stomach.

“You won’t dislike me right?” he directed at your stomach, brow even more wrinkled with worry “Surely they understand I am just so, eager, to meet them right darling?,”

He stared up at you now, golden eyes tense with worry, your lip wobbled as you held back your smile. Here before you on his knees was Alucard Tepes; one of the slayers of Dracula, the feared prince of the night that cut down his enemies like knives through butter- reduced to a simpering thing at the fear your child might come straight from you hating him. You relented not having the heart to tease him any longer you cradled his jaw in your hand.

“I was just teasing my love, surely our child will love you just as much as I,” immediately he relaxed, melting into the palm of your hand. His golden eyes cut up at you a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“You are cruel to do such a thing to your doting lover,” his alabaster hand gripped your wrist as he turned to lay a kiss in the fleshy part of your palm. “I treat you so sweetly and you insist on giving me heart palpitations.

“Consider it payback for what your hellspawn is doing to my body, I can barely make it from here to the door without my swollen ankles and aching spine objecting,” you said, bringing your hand away from him to stretch the intense cracking of your back emphasizing your point.

Alucard stood, staring down at you, he adored your changing body evidence of the growth of his child in you. You’d always been beautiful in his eyes, but something about knowing the swell of your stomach was from your baby growing inside of you, surely you were a goddess gifting him with the gifts of gifts. Bending down he looped his arms around your waist ignoring your grumbles of objection when he picked you up hoisting you into his arms until your knees hung over his elbows.

“Then allow me to be your legs,” you huffed rolling your eyes as Alucard toted you out of your rather comfortable reading room, you knew where he was taking you of course. The looming large ornate doors of your bedroom came into view as Alucard steadily carried you to them.

“Our bedroom,” you said flatly “I wonder what reason you could have for bringing me here Adrian,”

“I have no idea what you are implying deer,” he said, turning to press his back to the door, opening it with your combined weights. Barely holding back his impish grin (a look a great number of others refused to believe existed when you said he did so on the regular) he rushed you to your bed gently placing you on the downy mattress.

“Your feet must be killing you,” he said, gracefully moving to sit beside you and patting his lap. Begrudgingly you laid back against the comforter swinging your aching feet to his lap. He gently massaged your foot pressing his fingers into the soles of your feet soothing the pain that afflicted you. His talented hands seemed to pull all the aches from them knowing how to just work your body from months of repeated practice. A particularly forceful push into your left heel and you couldn’t hold back the moan that bubbled from your throat. Alucard smiled at you gently placing your feet on the bed beside him.

“See? So sweetly,” he said, placing his now free hand on your stomach.

“My body still aches,” you grumbled, still feeling the tension in your back

“I can help with that,”

“Your version of help is what got me into this predicament,” chuckling Alucard slowly spread your legs apart hiking your dress to just under your belly. There laid out before him nestled in a thatch of curls your cunt shined for him, already glistening with arousal. His slender fingers traced up the warm slit of your puffy lips noticing the audible hitch in your breaths

“If you don’t like my version of help then where are your undergarments,” he questioned, knuckles grazing up and down your quivering pussy

“They no longer -mmph- fit,” you moa, turning around to bury your head into the pillow.

“How lucky for me,” he murmured, just barely above a whisper as he sank down till his face was level with your heat “that my favorite snack is but a silk slip away from tongue,”

With one scathing breath his mouth was on you, pink lips pressing toward your own. His tongue wickedly lapped at you running wet circles around your throbbing clit before slipping its way into your clenching cunt. He couldn’t help the vibrating moans, near purrs that reverberated into you, as your juices flooded his taste buds. He couldn't help the way he ate at you ravaging your quim with every fiery stroke through your quivering lips. Your hands tugged at his golden locks pulling him closer and closer to your weeping cunt. How foolish, he thought as he drank up all you had to offer, why pull him close when you both know the last thought on his mind was pulling away?

Your orgasm crested, creeping up on you with each lascivious lick that toyed with your throbbing clit. It was with one particularly harsh suck that had you falling apart, melting apart like butter on warm toast your cunt creamed over your lover's tongue. Undeterred Alucard continued to viciously feast on your juices, moaning as they glossed his face. Clawed hands though gentle, held your hips in place as they began to buck so he could wrap his lips around your clit sucking on the shiny pearl undisturbed.

“A-Adrian please, s’too much I need-,” interrupting you Alucard sighed loudly, releasing your clit with an audible pop.

“You never let me have my fill,” he complained peering up at you over your swollen belly “but I know what you need,”

Rising Alucard reached for his trousers tugging the strings till his cock, heavy with a bead of precum pooling at the tip, fell free. Smiling and flashing those fangs of his wide he pulled your legs to wrap around his waist. Grabbing at his cock he lined the drooling pink head with your equally wet cunt, rubbing it between your lips and nudging at your clit. Gently he pushed inside of you, hissing as your heat slowly enveloped him till the hilt. The two of you rested there for a moment panting as your limbs tangled about each other. You whined under him, arms reaching towards him, hands making grabby motions for him. Alucard reached underneath you pulling you towards him. You both sat there, connected at your most intimate of places, your sweaty forehead resting on his cool one.

“Adrian,”

“Yes my love?”

“Fuck me.”

“Yes my love”

With a low chuffing noise, Alucard thrust up into you once, twice, three times, every one seeming to be deeper than the last. Your mouth hung agape as your lover continuously fucked up into you carving the shape of him deep into your cunt. Moans barely escaped you as every thrust seemed to steal your breath, your eyes stared into the golden ones of your lover unable to look away. Before you could process Alucard's hand gripped your ass holding you towards him as he stood on the bed, steadying his feet in the cushion and using his grip to lift you fast up and down his cock.

“Do you feel me sweet, deep, in here,” he rasped as he bounced you on his cock balls slapping on your ass. His hot breath fanned your face as he used your own weight to fuck you, one particular hard thrust had your eyes rolling back into your skull, and with a rush words escaped you.

“Fuck Adein yes! Fuck me please, I- oh god don’t stop!” you screamed nails clawing into the rolling muscles of his back.

“That’s it mama,” he hissed somehow managing to grip you closer, shifting to the balls of his feet he began to roll his hips up into you to match every bounce of your ass against his thighs “Take it, cum for me, let me feel your silk grip me,”

You don’t know whether it was his words that got you there so quickly or the orgasm he gave you prior, but with a barely audible cry you came walls gripping him tightly as you gushed around him. Alucard grit his teeth at the grip your cunt had him in, thrusting a few times before spilling inside you with a strangled cry. Alucard fell to his knees holding you close as you both bounced on the mattress. He pulled you off him holding back chuckles when you grumbled from the over sensitivity. Gently he laid you down before getting off the bed and leaving towards your bedroom bath chamber. He returned with a warm bowl of water and two warm cotton cloths.

Sitting beside you Alucard dipped the washcloth into the water wringing it before bringing it to your heaving body. Carefully he cleaned you off, wiping the spunk he left at your center. You groaned, pushing at his hands, still feeling far too sensitive. With a chuckle he dropped the now sullied rag once you were clean of him, reaching to prepare the second one he had brought and pressed the soothing cotton to your sweaty brow. Your eyes closed as you let your dhampir lover continue with his aftercare.

“Am I forgiven yet, for breeding you with my -what did you call our child- hellspawn?” he asked golden eyes trained onto your face. With a sigh you looked up at him already having forgotten the remark you had made earlier. A sly smirk tugged at your tired face.

“For the time being leonito,”

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

Weird black neglected!reader and the things the hate about the batboys do that disgust reader

So basically, there was a post ask what the bafamily does that disgust readers, or what disgusts readers—that's something like that. I can't find the ask because I answered it by accident when I wasn't finished, so whoever asked, you know who you are.

What disgusts readers the most about Bruce is his playboy persona; it irks readers to their core. Readers have always held Bruce to high expectations because their mom only spoke well of him. But all that changes when they attend a gala and see Bruce flirting with a girl decades younger than him. It makes their blood boil. Readers know the next girl is just the woman of the month, maybe day. When they were younger, a lot of the ladies would try to be nice to readers just to get on Bruce's good side. And Bruce tries to tell the reader it's just a fling and it means nothing, so no one will think he's the bad guy, but you don't care (he could be loyal, and loyal to your mother). Making the bat really guilty.

Dick, with his fake smiles and womanizing ways, makes it hard for the reader to support someone who hides their feelings or opinions when reporters or paparazzi approach him. He feels compelled to smile even while seething inside. Not only that, the reader dislikes when Dick attempts to fix everyone else's problems just to elevate himself and suppress his feelings; his womanizing tendencies are even more off-putting. The reader once looked up to Dick as a younger sibling would to an older brother, but his constant flirting with anyone within a five-mile radius has turned that admiration into disdain. This makes your poor older brother feel horrible and like a bad remodel.

Jason's nonchalance or indifference to things is perplexing, especially since you know deep down he is passionate about something he cares about. Yet, he'll never express this, at least not with you. He acts as if nothing is wrong when there is indeed something wrong. Deep down, a little Robin is screaming out and asking for help, but he'll never let it out. This type of denial disgusts the reader. Being your true self is the best self you can be; being passionate and headstrong is the best feeling in the world. Yet, he refuses to embrace it; he would rather stay constant than move forward. Jason really wants to make connections; he desperately wants to be a part of something. He wants to confide in the reader, but it might be a little too late for that.

Tim, a hypocrite and a smart-ass, reader is okay with being corrected; it just shows that they needs to learn. However, nitpicking every little thing he does really irks them. Telling the reader that something is wrong is not actual criticism; it’s just a way to put someone down. Boy, he is such a hypocrite! Timothy will literally tell you that monsters are bad, yet he goes and downs six Red Bulls before a patrol. Sure, he needs the energy, but he could eat a protein bar like a regular person. Not to mention, he is always telling you that something is really unhealthy, only for him to eat little to nothing at all. You always snap at him, and he’ll try to tell you he’s looking out for you like a brother should, but you don’t care. He really just wants you to be better than him, and be more responsible but the reader doesn't care for that.

Damian, pretentious and with a God complex, is literally an Arabian prince, so what did you expect from that little twerp? He thinks he’s better when he’s not that special. He’ll show off to readers every day and in every way. You pick up new hobbies, and it's his hobby now, and he’ll be better at it than you, probably discouraging you in the process and making you give up. If you're good, he'll try to be twice as good. Some younger siblings want to be like their big brother or sister or whatever, and it’s cute, but this isn’t cute; this is just stupid, and you hate it because Alfred always makes you hang out with the hellspawn. He’ll show off to your friends or brag about being Robin or how he used to live before the manor, and you want to hit the living daylights out of him. But even if you're taller, the kid was trained to kill at birth, so there’s no way. But all of this is because he really wants your attention and praise. You’re the only person in the house who doesn’t praise him or give him the time of day. He’s your younger brother; he shouldn’t be ignored like this. He’s royalty! Why are you rolling your eyes while he’s telling you about all the places he's been? You should be clapping and smiling—don’t ignore him!