#PLEASE ENJOY!

[wexhappyxfew]

Oooh, those prompts sure do look amazing… the touch one??? I’m so unsure on which one I might be in a crisis….

Soo… after muuuch deliberation, may ask about nr. 17 (holding the other’s chin up) with my girl Carrie? (I have to stay loyal to her, though I love all the other Silver Bullets girls equally)

Thank you 💖

- Carrie anon

carrie anon my apologies for how incredibly late this is (along with the other prompts sitting in the askbox lol) finals season will forever be a struggle lmao. BUT! i'm taking a mental break and here we are with a piece for my beans, carrie x dougie, carrie anon!! :D VERY excited to post this, we get a bit more with carrie's feelings as she's pretty good at hiding them (but not great with hiding them lol). so please enjoy!!

bergie doesn't strike out

(a/n): for the carrie x dougie girlies because this prompt i enjoyed and i figured i'd add some more to carrie's background - a struggle to fit in, to feel wanted, in a time of war. yeah, she's going through it to say the least and in some way, we all can get why :'( please enjoy!

Carrie watched from behind her shot glass as James Douglass waltzed over to the congregating group of Clubmobile girls and talked his talk, pulling out his lighter and offering to light up cigarettes, only before making quite the show of winking and meandering away back towards where he had been previously stood with Hambone and Murphy. She watched him let out a barking laugh before pointing to their cups and nodding to the bar. And that's when he started waltzing over to the bar, where she was stood, rather enjoying her stare-down with her shot glass instead of having to focus on him.

"Carrie Achterbeg, haven't seen you in a minute." she heard him say as he approached - which albeit was the truth. She hadn't come out to one of these in a couple of weeks. After that awkward misunderstanding with one of the guys from the 418th - radio operator, kind eyes, but horrible ego - after he had tried to plant one on her, she didn't want anything to do with the flying club, drinks and pilots. Tonight though was different. And after those last few missions, she needed some sort of melancholy distraction, even if it were a shot or two stood alone at the bar.

"Aren't you a sight for sore ey-" Carrie glanced over at James Douglass and shoved him in the shoulder roughly before throwing back her shot and sighing.

"Don't finish that sentence." she managed out, coughing briefly and then looked at him.

"Dually noted." Dougie said, before leaning up on the bar next to her and watching the side of her face, "What's eating you?" Carrie let out a dry laugh and looked over at him.

"I should be asking you the same thing," she said, before lowering your voice, "struck out, huh?" Dougie raised a brow in her direction and she nodded over his shoulder.

"Tatty, Helen, Virginia…." Carrie said, "Christ, Dougie, you struck out and you struck out hard." Dougie rolled his eyes and leaned more against the bar and nodded to the tender.

"Struck out is a strong word to use in that sense-"

"Sure as hell is currently the right word-"

"There's other words-"

"Struck out is as good as it comes." Carrie said to him and he took the beer from the tender and sighed, before taking a long sip. She watched him for a moment, biting the inside of her lip and then glanced back at her empty shot glass.

She was just punchy, she wasn't in the best of moods, and James Douglass was beginning to grow on her in ways she hadn't expected nor entirely wanted. And her mind was trying to ignore it.

"Why haven't you been coming recently?" Dougie asked her as he casually sipped on his beer, eyes wandering out to the dance floor and then back to her, before grinning wide, "Hambone's been missing ya." Carrie sighed and then stood up straighter and pushed her hair behind her ears and glanced at him.

"Personal choice." she said and then shrugged as she looked out towards the dance floor again, "You missing me, too? You seemed real tangled up with those guys over there. Surprised you came over to say hello." She raised a brow at him and he shrugged her off. Watching him, she then turned, only to be stopped by his arm jutting out.

"Where you going?"

"Just taking a lap around," she said with a shrug, "talk to some people I haven't seen before, ya know, get eyes on everyone." He watched her, a mixture of adornment it seemed and surprise, as she straightened her jacket and then looked at him.

"Everything look good?" she asked him, holding out her arms like she was about to go off on her first day at school and wanted her uniform in check. Dougie held her gaze for a moment before he let his eyes wash down her form and then back up to her face again. Carrie watched him, her collar turning hot as he took a slow sip and let his eyes rest on hers again, that lazy smile growing on his face as he nodded.

"Good is a strong word-"

"Dougie, don't you dare." Carrie muttered, a small smile growing on her face as she shoved at his shoulder, and repositioned herself, hands on her hips and sighed, "Seriously." For a moment, they just watched each other and it should've felt awkward, but in all actuality - it wasn't. And knowing that he was looking at her that fondly almost made her want to stay and talk to him more. But she wasn't like that it seemed.

"You look great," Dougie said, his voice strained as he nodded, "don't let none of those fools do anything funny, alright?" Now, it was Carrie's turn to let out a laugh and raise her brow.

"Since when did you care?" she asked quickly, crossing her arms, "'Cause three weeks ago, I had that stupid radio operator from the 418th practically down my throat and you barely batted an eye." A few onlookers glanced towards the two and it took Carrie a few moments to recognize how loud she had gotten and suddenly emotional in her words. And why did she care if Dougie had barely batted an eye? He shouldn't have needed to. They weren't technically even friends, just a joke or two here and there, some teasing and good-natured tomfoolery, but nothing more. Why did she care that he should care? Carrie sighed. Dougie looked up at her with those big, slightly worried eyes and bit back his lip before nodding.

"Well, now that you've made me aware of that, maybe I will bat an eye next time." Dougie said, looking up at her as his fingers danced against the cool mug of beer, "Who the hell was it?" Carrie stared at him and then blinked slowly.

"It doesn't matter-"

"That's why you didn't come-"

"Dougie-"

"Because he had-"

"Dougie." Carrie said, stepping closer to him, and holding his gaze right in her own, her hand ghosting over his arm as if to latch onto him, but failing to do so, "Let it go. It's over now."

"You brought it up." Dougie said back quickly, but she stopped him with a shake of the head. But then she stood quiet for a moment and let her thoughts grow. She had brought it up. Almost as if she had wanted him to know. Because no one had known. Because she'd been embarrassed that she let herself think that maybe that was a good guy, someone she could live a life with and all he had wanted was a kiss. It was a stupid thought.

"Who was it, Carrie, seriously?" Dougie asked her as she balled up her fists and looked anywhere but his face, which she knew had a look on it that would make her lose it, "A guy from the 418th, huh? He ever heard about a thing called messing with the bull, you damn well be getting the horns-"

"Shh, keep your voice down!" Carrie muttered, bringing a finger in front of her mouth and looking at him with wide eyes, "He was just some jackass that thought I was there to have a good time and that was it." Dougie grew quiet as he watched her. Whatever it was between them seemed to simmer and they both seemed to understand in that minute what she meant. But she wouldn't dare actually say why she had even bothered kissing the guy, or why Dougie was looking at her like that.

"He didn't do anything to you, did he?" Dougie said, his voice softer than it normally was, that look in his eye deeper and darker, "I know a guy-"

"No." Carrie said, her cheeks scarlet, "It was just a stupid kiss, that's it. It's over. I just….I was trying to avoid the situation again and…." She trailed off. She was over talking about it to be completely honest. She looked up at him.

"I'm fine." she said with an honest nod, "Thank you for your…..concern." Dougie watched her, with a slow nod and licked his lips, like he was still digesting her words in their entirety. He didn't say much, he just watched her and she didn't entirely want to complain about that because for one, his eyes were some of the kindness she'd probably seen on this side of the world. And for once, they were eyes that looked at her in a way other guys didn't.

"Just…go have some fun," Dougie said quietly, "give me a look if a guy does something stupid, alright?" And she nodded and looked up at him, as he smiled softly at her, his eyes darting over her own endless blue ones, an abyss of dampened sea and darkened souls. Lost and harrowing. He leaned forward a bit and lowered his voice.

"Don't strike out." he said with a small chuckle and she looked up at him and brought her pointer finger underneath his chin and prodded him lightly to meet her gaze, before whispering back just as quietly.

"Bergie doesn't strike out."

[guppyfish77]

Derailed!

[skialdi]

Not me posting this after Halloween because I've been so busy, oops.

Back at the beginning of October, @candyglumboy sent an ask requesting child Uta. I usually don't take requests but I was so inspired that this piece was born. I may have gotten a little carried away but it was so much fun.

[milllersfae]

Literally I just wanna say I love your writing and think ur super talented <33 And as a request, could you do a lil blurb about femme reader and protective/possessive Ellie?

sorry i got to this so late! i'd love to write this! since you didn't mention any smut, i'll keep it pretty tame, hope thats okay <3

.𖥔˖๋ ࣭⭑ blurb | protective!ellie showing everyone you’re hers

content warning: creepy men (boo), teasing, intoxication mention, exhibitionism if you squint. mdni

that night had been on your mind nonstop since you came home. you plunged face first into your pillow, alcohol-lidded breath smothered in the silk cover.

you had held your red solo cup firm in your grasp, bobbing your head under the mellow rumble of the bass heavy speakers. the sun had finally began to slip underneath the horizon, orange seeping into the sky. the house party you had attended had been in full swing, people littered all over the back lawn. the summer warmth had only prompted you wore your best slip dress, white and slim against the curves of your body. not only had it been a hit with you, it seemed to be a hit with everyone else.

the drunken slur of men had came your way, often lead with poor pickup lines and perverted compliments. you were polite, eyes shifting in hopes of the conversation ceasing with every forced laugh and nod you made. the travel of eyes made you embarrassingly flush, arms crossed over your chest in response.

then you felt her, presence lingering behind you before confirmed with an arm wrapped to your waist, lips pressed behind your ear. ellie glared at the man before you, eyebrows pressed in acquisition.

"you alright over here? nobody bothering you?" she cooed, smirk defiant on her face as the intoxicated eyes of the stranger had widened in silent fear, before promptly making excuse to finally step off.

she laughed into your shoulder, breath heavy against the skin. "fuckin' creep. hate when they look at you like that." ellie mumbled, taking your now free hand in hers.

you nodded in obligement, a long-needed smile wide-spread on your face. even with you newfound freedom ellies’ wandering hands didn't cease, her other hand rubbing soft circles on your thigh. you turn to her from the corner of your eye, watching her face scan the night-lidded backyard. her face was cocky, a look of pride that spoke that she loudly claimed you, and made you hers. and she liked it. you tapped her arm that had now palmed at your ass, face running warm at the clutter of eyes you felt pinned on you.

"m-baby, i think people are looking--"

"that's what i want."

ellie's grip tightened, her wandering stare becoming more devious as she continued. she pulled your hand nearing the porch stairs, propping you up on the end of the birch railing. she placed a hand at the length of your back, and her other snuck beneath the end of your dress. she was consuming you in broad daylight, claiming you as if a single eye wasn’t there.

you hate that you enjoyed it, a subtle sensation fluttered in your core. ellie pulled you in closer to her, teeth peaking through a impish smile.

“why are you so flustered? something bugging you?” ellie teased, hand moving up your dress and thumbing your inner thigh. you wince softly at the action, lip bit slightly at her pleasure.

“you don’t care about all these people? the stares?” you whisper, eyes wide with confusion. you are met with her lidded eyes as she laughed with a stifle.

“nothing will stop me from reminding people you’re my girl, baby.” she purred, pressing two fingers to the damp of your panties. you let out a shuddered moan as ellie leaned in to press her lips to the open of your mouth.

══════════════════

[cerise-on-top]

hellooooo! can you write on how you think Laswell and Valeria would react to their wife’s randomly bringing home a small kitten she found on the side of the road/in a ally? Also I hope you are feeling better lovely!

Hello! In all honesty, I'm not doing too great right now, I should really be resting up, but I can't because of work! Oh well, it happens!

Valeria and Laswell’s S/O Bringing Home a Kitten

Valeria: She would not care for the little thing in the slightest, in all honesty. Valeria knows that she’s absent very often, so she can’t exactly blame you for wanting a small animal companion to keep you company. Besides, she’d rather have it be a small animal than some other person. Still, she’s not the biggest fan of animals. While she may not hate them, she simply doesn’t care about them, regardless of what they are or how cute they may be to anyone else. You can keep your little kitten, she doesn’t care too much about it as long as she gets you to herself when she is at home. However, if the cat gets more of your attention than she does, that’s when she’s starting to get a little bit jealous. If you’re not looking, she’ll shoo the little critter away, hoping it’ll get the message and leave you and her alone. That’s when she’ll come to dislike your kitten a little bit. However, if you bug her enough about it, she might begrudgingly apologize to it, but only when you’re around. She won’t be outright mean to it, but she will put it away from your lap and place it somewhere else if she thinks you’re paying too much attention to it. The little critter can meow all it wants, it’s not getting any extra treats from her. Valeria will only feed it when you don’t have the time to do so, and even then it’s on thin ice. Although she usually prides herself on being a competent and confident woman, it’s so evident that Valeria’s as jealous as it gets, and of a cat as well. You can tease her about it too, she won’t really do anything about it because she can’t. She loves you and doesn’t wanna hurt you, which includes not hurting your stinky furball. It’s obvious it makes you happy, and that’s what she wants to see in this otherwise rotten world.

Laswell: Although she isn’t the biggest animal lover, she can appreciate a cute animal when she sees one, but wasn’t sure she heard you correctly when you claimed to have rescued that kitten from an alley. Laswell knows that cats are independent enough when they’re older, at the very least, but you can’t really leave a kitten all alone for now. Besides, what if it’s got some sort of disease? As long as you take good care of it, Laswell won’t mind having a kitten be brought home, but she won’t have too much time to take care of it either, so you’re gonna have to be committed to taking care of it. She may not be a fan of having a cat around at home at first, but she grows fond of it anyway. Think of all the “My dad and the cat he didn’t want at first” memes, that’s literally her. Either way, she does think you have a heart of gold for wanting to rescue a small and defenseless animal that had nowhere to go. However, don’t make it a habit to continuously rescue animals, she doesn’t have the time or space for all of them, so please just keep it to one, maybe two, at most. Laswell, when she can, will feed the kitten and play with it. Sometimes you might even catch her sleeping with it. Especially when the kitten is more mature and has calmed down from all the playing frenzy, that’s when Laswell might hug it more often and sometimes even take naps with it. Will help you out whenever you need anything from her. Your cat needs to go to the vet? It needs some more food? The last few toys you got for it are broken and or torn? Don’t worry, Laswell’s got you covered. She’s got enough money to make your cat’s life very luxurious, as luxurious as it gets, even. The food will be of the highest quality, it will get all the meds it could possibly need, if it needs them, and the toys will always be provided for. The little kitten probably couldn’t have asked for better owners, in all honesty.

[doctorwhocreations]

Human Nature

This is a long one but proud of it! Written by both me and my lovely bestie @whodoyoudo Enjoy!

When I agreed to travel with the Doctor, I expected adventures through space, to distant planets and to time periods that I never could have imagined. Yet here I was scrubbing floors in a Victorian school with my fellow companion, Martha Jones. Now the once, wonderful Doctor I had known, has now gone into hiding as a human, he calls himself Dr John Smith in this reality. For some reason the TARDIS crash landed us in a small english village in 1913, it was as if the Doctor never existed. 

In the 9 months that I have been travelling with the Doctor and Martha, it never once occurred to me that I would ever develop feelings for him. I kept my feelings to myself, since it seemed that Martha liked him too. Occasionally she would say how he fitted well in his suit, or casually comment on how the Doctor’s hair looked nice enough to run her fingers through. I never agreed with her… but I never NOT disagreed with her.

The bell had just rung and students had all finished for the day, while me and Martha were left to scrub the floor with brushes. I heard the door creak open and John Smith carried his books with him, as he dodged our soapy area on the floor. John Smith seemed to carry a different demeanour, he was strict and not the happy go lucky Doctor we once had known. I had to shake the thought away, this was a different man, it was as if I was grieving for the person I once knew.

I looked up as John Smith walked by, “Good morning Sir!” I said in a bright upbeat tone, whilst smiling. 

For a brief moment, he turned his head towards me in slight confusion as if to say, “why is this maid addressing me?” With the same expression he responded in an emotionless tone, “Good morning.” 

The Headmaster quickly walked through, looking down at me and Martha. He frowned at how dirty the floor was that we were scrubbing, thanks to the rugby teams not cleaning their muddy shoes before coming in. 

“Better get a move on you two! I want this floor spotless.” The Headmaster yelled.

Mr Smith waited behind for the headmaster to leave then continued to walk by.

I lowered my head, Martha looked over to me, “Hey, just ignore him.” “I don’t care about him.” I sighed, as I scrubbed the floor even harder, “How much longer do we have to stay here for? Did the Doctor even say anything about that?” Martha sighed, she was getting fed up with me asking, “Until those aliens that are tracking us back off. The Doctor has a plan, we have to trust it and keep an eye on him.” “How can we do that if he doesn’t even acknowledge my- Our existence!” Martha raised an eyebrow, “Right… Well he didn’t exactly say how long he would be in hiding for…” I felt a lump in my throat, “What if we are stuck here forever? It’s been nearly 3 months, Martha!” 

Martha put her hand on the brush I’m holding, “Y/N! Calm down, it’s not going to help any, is it? Let me finish this, you go make yourself a cuppa.”

I flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take. I pondered at the memories of the Doctor, whenever the Doctor did notice me it wasn’t very often.. we be so caught up in running away from aliens or the Doctor searching for clues, seeking information from a computer or robot or local on a abandoned spaceship. But sometimes we’d have intimate moments, sometimes he’d look at me with a slight sparkle to his eyes, in a different way from usual.

For example, there was a time before we went to the Lazarus Laboratories launch party, as I left my room, I noticed the Doctor stare at me a little longer than usual, since it was the first time he saw me in a formal dress.

I loved how his hand felt in mine. Whenever we were running away from danger, I was too busy feeling scared to savour the moment.

And now all I had of the Doctor was his empty TARDIS and his jacket that was left behind on his seat. Now and then I managed to get away from the school, I would sit in the TARDIS alone and cling onto his jacket and cry into it, as if it was the last remains of my Doctor.

“Are you sure you don't want to give Mr Smith his breakfast? I don’t mind, I’ve been doing it every morning so far.” Martha asked as she was about to head out.

I tied my apron over my uniform and looked in the mirror, acting as if I was fine. I had to remember this is what the Doctor had to do, he had no choice. He would want me to be strong, but my patience was wearing thin.

I sighed, “No you do it, Martha. I give up trying to get to know this Mr Smith.” Martha shrugged as she left, “If you insist. See you later.”

My forced smile dropped as the door closed. As I combed my hair, the thought of seeing the Doctor, aka John Smith in his pyjamas, did appeal. But the aching in my chest outweighed any other emotion, the feeling of being in the same room as someone I once loved.

Martha knocked on the door, then proceeded to walk in carrying Mr Smith’s breakfast. Her eyes widened as she noticed him wrapping his dressing gown over himself. “Sorry Sir! I can come back when you are properly dressed.” Martha said as she looked away trying her best not to stare. 

“No no it’s quite alright.” Mr Smith said in an upbeat sort of manner.

 “Very well sir.” Martha then continued to walk in, placing his breakfast down and beginning to brew the tea. “You know I had the funniest dream last night. I had this dream that I was some kind of adventurer, this daredevil, a madman! The Doctor I’m called and last night I dreamt that you were there.” He said in such an excited, curious voice. “Your friend, colleague was there too…Sorry what is her name?” 

“Y/N Sir, that’s her name.” 

A bright smile appeared on his face, lost in thought as he continued with the story of his dream.

“Well you were both there as my companions.” He continued. 

“The teacher and the housemaids, sir?” Martha shook her head as she smiled, “That’s impossible.” 

“I’m a man from another world.” John Smith counteracts. 

“Well then it can’t be true because there’s no such thing.” Martha finished as she continued to make Mr Smith’s tea.

“Well it was a fascinating dream, we traveled together and saw the most exotic of places.” Mr Smith continued, Martha handed him a newspaper, he read it as he sipped his tea. “Dreams are called dreams for a reason, sir.” Martha smiled.“I guess so.” His eyes looked sad for a moment.  He looked at the clock on the mantelpiece, “Oh before you go, Miss Jones.”

Martha raised an eyebrow, “Yes?” “Is that friend of yours avoiding me? She hasn’t served me tea once!” “What? No, of course not, sir.” She lied.

Mr Smith nodded, “Sure..” He seemed unconvinced. 

Later on, Martha had told me what happened as we tidied up the other rooms, I cringed slightly. I didn’t even realize how it must have seemed, I’ve been working here for over a month. I assumed Mr Smith was too busy, keeping his students in order, marking papers, to even take any notice that one maid hadn’t interacted with him much.

The following day, I was dusting the top shelves of Professor Piers' room (He was an old man who very much enjoyed putting a woman in their place, but then he would be quick to comment on my uniform being nicely tight fitting.. creep). 

I heard a voice from the doorway, “It’s very unprofessional you know.” I wobbled slightly from the stool I was standing on, “Excuse me?!” At that moment I realised it was Mr Smith, I cleared my throat and approached him. “Sorry i didn’t mean to- You almost fell I-” He stammered, this Mr Smith was not as good with his words, compared to the Doctor.

“Yes, Mr Smith?” I asked a bit too abruptly.

“I mean, it’s unprofessional that.. It seems.. That you don’t like to be around me.” He attempted to explain, “Have I done something to upset you?”

“Sir, I must really carry on with my duties or I will be told off by Pervy- I mean Professor Piers.”

My cheeks turned red, he chuckled, “Is that your nickname for him? Pervy Piers?” I looked away, “He is inappropriate at times, yes. Now I must go-” He blocked the doorway, “You didn't answer my question.”

“Sir! Please, I don’t want to be yelled at-” He took the feather duster off me and entered the room, “I know, I will help you dust and we can chat.”

I stood unable to react, he smiled back at me, “Come on then, maid!”

I hesitated for a split second, then thought for a moment it was as if the Doctor was saying those words, not Mr. John Smith. 

John Smith stood on the stool, I was once on, reaching for the farthest corners I was unable to reach. I realised I was staring for too long, I abruptly took my eyes off of him and proceeded to pick up a few books that had been left lywaing about on the side.

 I broke the silence and said, “You haven't done anything wrong by the way, I didn’t mean to avoid you.. It’s just that you look like someone I used to know.” “Oh.” He squeaked, he stepped off the stool and handed back the feather duster, “Is that a bad thing?” “In some ways yes…” I said with my head hung low, as I held books close to my chest. 

“What do you mean? If you don’t mind me asking of course?” Mr Smith turned to face me, carrying a book in hand. 

“It’s just.. I had a friend, we used to travel together but now… he’s um.. He’s gone.” I said. I passed along the books and Mr Smith slotted them into the shelf, “I’m sorry about that.” Mr Smith continued, “But it’s best not to judge a book by its cover.” He said in a serious yet reassuring manner. 

“Well that’s about as clean as Pervy Piers’ room is going to get.” Mr Smith said with a smirk.

“Thank you for helping me, sir. You really didn’t have to.” “It’s fine, I had a free period anyway. Also call me John, when I’m out of hours.”

I could feel my cheeks beginning to heat up. As he got a tad bit closer to me. 

Suddenly the headmaster cleared his throat, “Mr Smith what are you doing in Mr Piers room.. Talking to a maid?”

“Sorry sir, I was just having a word and I-” “I don’t want to hear it, don’t let it happen again.” He warned, Mr Smith passed by me quickly and disappeared down the hallway. 

The Headmaster looked over to me, “You better know your place, madam.” I lowered my head, “Yes sir.” I said leaving immediately.

That evening, I told Martha what had happened with Mr Smith as we ate our evening meal. “That headmaster is rude to everyone.” Martha reassured me.I folded my arms, “I know but he made it sound like we were having an affair or something! What if he says something to someone, or I lose my job? Where am I meant to go if I lose my job!?”

Martha placed her hand on my sholder, “Y/N, it won't come to that, okay?” 

I could feel the tears beginning to well up in my eyes. Getting up quickly I brushed my apron down. “I-I just need to be alone with my thoughts.” When I made my way to the door, as I opened it, I found Mr Smith standing in the hallway . 

“Oh, I’m sorry, is this a bad time?” Martha looked toward me for my reaction, I was frozen. Martha sighed and quickly stepped in front of me. “Is there something you need, sir?” 

“No, well I just- yes actually. I wanted to apologise for earlier. I shouldn’t have just walked off like that. I do hope you didn’t get into any trouble because of me, Miss Y/N.” Mr Smith said in a worried tone. 

“What’s done is done, Mr Smith. There’s no point worrying.” I said before leaving the room.

Mr Smith gave Martha a look, before going after me.

“Miss L/N!”

I couldn’t believe this was happening, the human version of the Doctor, following me through an empty school at night. I wanted to go to the TARDIS, to my safe space and cry, but I couldn’t, not here. I hated crying in front of the Doctor, so the thought of crying in front of Mr Smith was the last thing I needed. “Leave me alone, please!”

Mr Smith stopped in his tracks, “I’m sorry I was just trying to-”

“I’m fine really. After all, it wouldn't be proper to be seen with a maid after hours.” I replied back harshly.

I continued to walk out in the courtyard to retreat into the TARDIS, as Mr Smith was left behind to ponder with his thoughts. 

I woke up the next day to find Chrysanthemums in a vase near my bedside table. Martha was up and dressed, doing her hair and gave me a smile, “Found them outside the door this morning, it came with an envelope with your name on it.”

“I hope it’s not from Pervy Piers.” I sighed. Martha teased, “Ooo! A admirer”

“Ew! Pretty sure Professor Piers is old enough to be my grandad.. Wait, maybe even my great grandad!” I laughed.

“At least he has good taste.” Martha commented.

It was like any other day in this dull boarding school, the only thing that would make my day would be a cup of tea or falling asleep, to have dreams that I’m back with the Doctor in the TARDIS. Then I wake up to the reality that was now my nightmare, a world without the Doctor. 

As I was cleaning the windows, a ball came hurling my way from a nearby field. I managed to duck in time, but it smashed the window I was cleaning. The shards of glass came raining on me, I laid motionless for a moment. 

I could hear angry voices in the distance, telling the lad off who kicked the ball. I felt a sharp pain on my face, then I noticed blood drip onto my uniform. 

“Are you okay, Miss L/N?” 

I rose to my feet, I smiled trying to leave, “Just a little cut.” Mr Smith grabbed my arm, “You’re bleeding. I will escort you to the First Aid room.” “I will dab it with a cloth, it will be fine.” “Y/N, does it hurt?”

I quietly nodded, he had a serious look on his face, he handed me a clean handkerchief, “Put some pressure on it.”

Mr Smith led me back inside, I placed the cloth on my bleeding face, “But you have students to watch.” “There’s more than one teacher on duty, it’s fine.” He insisted, he broke into a little smile, “I guess I will have to send you more flowers after this.”

“Wait.. those flowers were from you? I thought they were from Professor Piers.”

“PERVY PIERS!? No, I sent them, for getting you into trouble yesterday. I went out my way picking them out for you!” 

I blushed a little, “I’m just a maid, sir.” “You’re not just a-” We reached the first aid office, a nurse gasped at my face and rushed me into the room, I turned back to Mr Smith, “Thank you.” I tried to hand back his handkerchief, he shook his head.

“You can keep it.” He lingered for a while before going back outside.

Maybe this Mr Smith wasn’t so bad after all.

Although it was November, it was a sunny Saturday afternoon, which meant it was my day off! It was a relief to not wear that dull awful maid uniform. I sat on the bench in the park in the village, it was nice to not be seen as someone’s servant or maid. Just a woman who could be of any status. 

I wore a long red coat with a matching hat and a checked scarf. In moments like this, I felt elegant in this time period and became quite accustomed to it (if you ignore the racism, sexism and so forth..).

I read a book I borrowed from the TARDIS library, “Pride and Prejudice?” A voice questioned.I blushed to see Mr Smith, wearing a grey coat with a black hat, he smirked, “Interesting choice.”

“Oh er-” I wish I picked something that had been published after 1913 now, not thinking Mr Smith would even know about. But I guess I didn’t want to cause any disturbance by choosing a book from the future, well my present. 

He sat beside me, "You have bewitched me, body and soul.”

“Excuse me?” His eyes widened, “Oh it’s a quote!” “Oh yes, I have not reached that part yet, Mr Smith.” “John, on my days off, remember?” He reminded me, “I could lend you a book if you want?” I nodded, not knowing how to respond, he  was close now, if the Doctor ever say this close to me, I'd probably melt.. which was hard not to, he had the same face. 

There didn't seem to be anyone about, anyone passing by would think we're a couple or even a reserved married couple.

"Y/N I don't know what it is, but I feel very drawn to you."

I smiled, "Really? I'm just a maid."

"You're not just a maid." His voice was low and serious.

He kissed my cheek, he got up smoothly, his face was bright red, “Right, I shall leave you to your reading. Good day, miss L/N.”

He left hastily, I gave an awkward wave, trying to process what just happened.

I noticed in the distance, a girl holding a red balloon staring in my direction, she sniffed, a shiver went up my spine, I closed my book and walked away.

 quickly, as the scarecrows fumbled away as I escaped out of their grasp.

“How could such a sweet little girl look so… menacing at the same time?” 

Shaking my head of my thoughts I carried on walking away, still sensing her presence I began to speed up my walk a bit more. 

Then suddenly out of nowhere some idiot dressed as a scarecrow jumped out at me. I was startled for a moment, then began to feel a sudden anger wash over me.

“Oh very funny!! You think it’s funny to jump out at people and try to scare them? And as for you!” I quickly turned around to face that little girl…But she had gone? So fast? How is that possible? I turned back to the scarecrow, and more of them appeared! 

In a panic I lashed out at one of them, grabbing it by the arm only for it to fall to the ground. “Straw?!  B-But..” Realisation hit me as they got closer ready to grab hold of me. They were aliens! They had to be!   

I managed to duck out of the way

I ran all the way back to the school through the woods, I nearly collided into Martha in the hallway, as she was brushing up. “MARTHA! They’re here, the family of blood, we need the Doctor!!” I shrieked. 

“No! Where?”

“In the village, they are controlling the scarecrows!”

Martha quickly cleared her throat, as a teacher called Mrs Berry walked by.

“Ladies, lower your voices.” She hushed, then a young boy ran past her, “Timothy come on, no running!”I leaned closer to Martha, “We should talk about it in our room.” “Or at the pub?” She smiled. I sighed, “I’m not sitting in the cold again, Martha!”

Martha pointed to her uniform, “Well as you can see, I am still working, so go get that watch off Mr Smith and open it!” I frowned, “What? I can’t just go into his room.” “Why not? He seems to like you.” Martha smirked. I shook my head, “Martha stop it! Why can’t you do it?”

“I think he’d prefer to see you over me… So make something up.” I blushed recalling the kiss on the cheek,I wouldn't repeat that outloud. I thought of another excuse, "He is supposed to be lending me a book…” “There you go!” Martha urged as she gave me a little shove, “I will keep a lookout for anything unusual, now go!”

My heart was fluttering, the thought of having the Doctor back.. MY Doctor! But first I had to face the reality that Martha was maybe right, that this Mr Smith may somehow like me? 

I took a deep breath as I stood outside his door, how do I snatch a watch without him noticing? Well the Doctor did say he had a blocker on, so the human version of himself would take no notice of it.

I entered the room, not expecting Mr Smith to be back yet from his walk, but there he was with a woman draped over him. I froze, it was Miss Berry.

“Aren’t you the maid?” Miss Berry asked in an arrogant tone, “Don’t you know how to knock?”

I forced a smile fighting back the tears, “I.. I am sorry for intruding.”

Mr Smith’s eyes were wide, “Y/N it’s not what it seems.” I ignored his words and closed the door behind me. I felt my chest ache, I was wrong. So wrong. To think the Doctor or even this John Smith was capable of ever returning my feelings. 

“Y/N! People are in danger! You walking in on Mr Smith with some woman doesn’t matter! We need that watch asap!”

Martha started storming towards Mr Smith’s room, I followed her frantically, “Wait! Martha you can’t just-” “Y/N! Snap out of it! People have died, my friend Jenny… She’s not who she was.” Martha yelled. “Jenny?” I recalled, Martha used to go to the pub with her and she was a fellow maid. My heart sank, how could I become so oblivious?

Martha barged into Mr Smith’s room, he looked startled, “Miss Jones what did I say about knocking?!” She pointed to the watch, “We need that watch, and you’re not John Smith, you’re the Doctor!”

I lowered my head, as he approached, “What is she going on about Miss L/N!?”

I sighed, “The dreams you’ve been having.. They are all true.” He shook his head,“Is this a prank? Is this because of what happened earlier, a weird way of getting back to me, to convey your jealousy?” He blushed as he locked as with me, “Nothing even happened, I don’t like her in that way!!” I frowned, “No! Of course not! Ioff Mr Smith and open it!” I frowned, “What? I can’t just go into his room.” “Why not? He seems to like you.” Martha smirked. I shook my head, “Martha stop it! Why can’t you do it?”“I think he’d prefer to see you over me… So make something up.” I blushed recalling the kiss on the cheek,I wouldn't repeat that outloud. I thought of another excuse, "He is supposed to be lending me a book…” “There you go!” Martha urged as she gave me a little shove, “I will keep a lookout for anything unusual, now go!”

 don’t care about that, it doesn't matter anymore!” 

“Whatever do you mean!?” 

I stepped forward closer to him, “Mr.Smith people have died, a great deal more will, if you don’t open that watch!!” 

He laughed in disbelief, “How many of those stories have you been reading Y/N? This is completely barbaric!” 

John Smith stood hands on his hips, the most confused and angry I have ever seen. 

I groaned as John wasn’t taking in what me or Martha have even said. 

I began frantically looking around for the watch. “Martha have you found it!?” 

On the other side of the room Martha goes through a bunch of letters and documents. “NO!! ARGH!!” She lashes out, kicking the papers into the air. “MARTHA!! What on earth are you both doing? No wait- Those are the students' reports! Isn’t the point of maids, that they tidy up, not wreck havoc!” Mr Smith shrieked.

Looking back at John with sorry eyes I tried to get him to see reason. “Please Doctor, you have to understand this is important!” 

“Wait..Did you say people have died!? Who!?”

I looked back at him, getting closer in a comforting manner. 

Martha whipped her head over our way and frantically yelled. “It’s not here!!! We’ve looked everywhere, I’m going to look elsewhere!! Come on you two!!”

“I’m going to stay here for a moment, to calm him down.”

Martha shrugs and leaves the room to carry on her search.

I turn back to John, as I looked in his confused brown eyes,  I’m sorry but this life you have here.. It’s not real! This isn’t you.. This is 1913!” 

He placed his hand on my forehead, “Is there an illness going about amongst the maids? The things you and Miss Jones are going out with! It’s madness!” I snatched his hand away, “No I’m perfectly well!” I freeze as I look out the window, “Remember that blue box you dreamt of?” He nodded, “How did you know about that?!”

“Martha may have mentioned it.. But look, it's out there, it’s real.”

John walked towards the window and saw the TARDIS outside, the Family of Blood surrounding it.

“It can’t be.” He uttered, his skin turned pale, he couldn’t bear to even look at the TARDIS, he turned away, “I have never seen it in my life!” I gripped his arm, “Please, Mr Smith. John. We need the Doctor or things are only going to get worse.” “So this Doctor.. He's an alien.” I nodded, he sighed, “And those people who have been killed.. They were killed by aliens as well?” I nodded, “They are looking for you.” “Oh.” He pulled out a watch from his pocket, “So this.. This will bring back the Doctor.. And I will cease to exist?” I noticed his eyes becoming watery, “So none of this was real, not even..” “Yes of course it was real!” “And does this Doctor have feelings for you, does he care for you like I do?”

My cheeks turned red, “I’m not sure..”

“What kind of man is he then?” He gripped my hand, "I could love you better than him, please.."

He clutched onto me, about to embrace me, I pushed him away .

"NO! Stop it! It doesn't matter!! We need the Doctor!!"

He looked sad, "You really do love him."

My heart throbbed, I hate to see him in so much pain. But I had to put those feelings aside.

Suddenly there's a crash through the window, a laser pings off the walls. 

"Come out Doctor!!" A voice bellowed below, it was one of the students, at least what it used to be.

I looked back to Mr Smith, "I will distract them, now go with Martha!! Please!" 

Martha stood in the doorway, Mr Smith turned back to me, “So this is it, then it’s decided? I have to be executed so this Doctor can replace me?” “I’m sorry.” I told him and kissed his lips quickly before running out, “Please open the watch."

Why did I kiss him on the lips, was it a spare in a moment, just in case it all went wrong and it could be my last chance to kiss the Doctor?  His lips felt lovely.. so soft. No that wasn't cool, I should have asked for his permission. I kissed the doctor without his consent, he probably wouldn't have minded. I didn't know for sure.

Anyway I was willing to put myself in danger, in hope John Smith may come to his senses and do the right thing. What if he ran off in fear and Martha didn't find him in time?

So many thoughts swirled round my head, but I didn't have time to be scared, I had to trust that the Doctor will show up in time. And if he didn't… well you can't say I didn't try.

Martha had a lot going on in her head too, as she tried to persuade Mr Smith to open the watch. She thought back to what the Doctor told her in his step guide video for being human, "And finally, 23.. Please look after Y/N, she won't find this easy and she means a lot to me. Of course you both mean a lot to me, but she.. well.."

Martha hadn't always paused it at that part, she knew what he wasn't going to say without hearing it. She never wanted to admit it, but the Doctor never looked at her the same way, it was painful. 

But these last few weeks, she accepted that her crush was nothing compared to the feelings the Doctor and myself had for each other.

"Where has Y/N gone?" Mr Smith asked Martha, as she waited outside his door.

"She has gone to the family of Blood." 

She looked down to Mr Smith pulling the watch out of the pocket, "If the aliens want this, they can have it!!"

"No!! They can't!!" Martha yelled back, as she tried to snatch the watch from him, Mr Smith fought back and accidentally opened the watch a little, "Martha! Why did you let her do that!?!" The Doctor's furious voice came out of Mr Smith.

He closed the watch again, Mr Smith looked spooked, "That was.. that was the Doctor wasn't it?"

She nodded, "Yes. Please, John. I know it is difficult to understand, but without the Doctor.. more people will die, including Y/N."

Mr Smith collapsed onto the floor, tears poured down his face, "So my life is for nothing, meaningless.. And that Doctor gets to have Y/N, not me."

Martha touched his shoulder and sat beside him, "I'm sorry."

He took a deep breath, "If it means.. Y/N is safe, then I guess I have no choice."

On a green glowing spaceship, I awoke to find myself sat on the floor, hands tied behind my back. There they were… the very people who the Doctor was hiding from, the Family of Blood.

“You have his scent on you, what are you hiding?” An old man asked.

My chest tightened, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, maid! We know you travelled with the Doctor!” The dark haired one bellowed.

I shivered, a once normal student, now taken over by this alien form. That is why the Doctor was in hiding, so that same thing didn’t happen to him. 

“She talks about the Doctor to Martha. I’ve heard.” Jenny said, or at least what used to be Jenny. 

I whipped my head round to see John Smith standing there, “Oh gosh this is a real life spaceship!?” He stumbled a little causing himself to tumble and fall onto a row of buttons, pressing them all down. 

My heart sank, “John what are you doing here!?”

The Family of Blood’s all grin, the farmer beamed, “That means the watch hasn’t been opened!” 

“He’s still human though, we need a time lord!” The shell of Jenny said. 

The young boy was growing impatient and yelled “COME ON OUT DOCTORRR!” 

John Smith looked to the young lad with a glint of fear in his eyes. Frantically searching his pocket for that pocket watch. “Here!!! Take it! I don’t want it and I don’t want him!! You can have it!” 

John took the watch out and the family of blood all gathered quickly the young lad snatched the watch from John. I bolted up, unable to believe my eyes, “NO!!” “Shut it, girl!” The moustached leader shoved me down to the ground.

I glanced up at John, “How could you!? We need the Doctor, I need the Doctor! What have you done!?”

John remained quiet as he glanced over to me, there was a different more determined look in his eyes, one I hadn’t seen for a long time.

Whilst the family of blood all pondered at the pocket watch and made a fuss over it, the Doctor quickly rushed over to me untying the knots of rope binding me to the ship. 

I look into his eyes with confusion as he untied me, the Doctor gave me a wink with a slight smirk which made my heart flutter and skip a beat. He’s back, my Doctor is back! I thought to myself. 

The family all intake a quick breath. “The watch is empty!!” The little girl cried out, they all  looked toward me and the Doctor. The Doctor tried to keep up the act, and  looked confused, “W-What do you mean?” 

“You tell me!!” The young lad threw the watch over to what he thought was still John Smith.

The Doctor caught it with ease, “Oohhhh I think the explanation is you’ve just been fooled by a simple old factory misdirection, a little bit like ventriloquism of the nose, but it has got to be said I don’t like the look of your hydrocolometer.” 

The Doctor stood with usual confident style, he whipped his glasses on, “Oh yes not looking good at all… Also you really shouldn’t have let me hit all those buttons.”

A red light illuminated the ship, “I think you should really run!”

Next thing I knew the family were in a panic, the Doctor swiftly gripped my hand as we dashed out before the ship exploded into flames. The family of blood were knocked to the ground nearby us.

The Doctor held me in his arms as we fell due to the impact, my eyes met his, “You’re really back.”

He grinned, “Oh yes!”

As the Doctor sorted out the suitable punishments for the family of blood, I began to readjust to my life back in the TARDIS. It was surreal to be back, a part of me began to ponder, did the Doctor know about anything that John had said to me? We’re they the Doctor’s true feelings coming through or just solely Johns’? Was he really a separate person altogether from the Doctor? The answer of course was yes, in the sense of his personality… but in the end, John was brave, terrified but brave.

 I grew to like him very much. Then my eyes widened, the KISS would the Doctor even remember that? 

I was lost in thought that I hadn’t even heard the Doctor and Martha come into the TARDIS, as I sat at the end of my bed.

“You in here, Y/N?” The Doctor called.

I poked my head out of my room and walked towards the console room, Martha smiled, “See I told you she was here!”

The Doctor gave me a gentle smile, she looked at the both of us, “Right I am going to have my first hot shower in months!” 

Martha gave me a little wink, wait was she rooting for me? No she liked him too, why would she?

My brain had been a mess, I just needed normality and that involved not telling the Doctor I kissed him.. but then a part of me feels he didn’t consent to it, so I should tell him right? 

“Doctor I-“

The Doctor stared up from the console screen, “It’s okay, Martha filled me in… on what happened with John.”

I blushed, “She.. She did? W-What exactly did she say? I mean, well…” I scrambled to find the right words to say. The Doctor meanwhile had a completely blank expression on his face, which made me feel even more anxious at the thought of him being cross with me. 

“Well.. She told me that you and I.. technically John Smith that is, shared a kiss.” The Doctor answered robotically. 

My heart raced, “I’m so sorry! It just happened and I know you couldn’t have consented-”

The Doctor started to smirk which turned into a smile. “It’s okay, I mean…well..” A blush forms on his face, “I’m quite jealous actually.”

I raised my eyebrow unable to connect the dots, “Jealous.. Of John Smith?”

“Clearly you preferred him over me.”

My face brightened, what the hell had Martha said to him!? My palms grew sweaty, as I stepped back, “No NO! That’s not true at all! Whatever Martha said isn’t true and the kiss didn’t mean anything. I mean it did, but it was a spur in the moment because I was worried I was not going to survive or not.” “Y/N.” The Doctor interrupted, “I get it, it’s fine.” He looked at the console screen, a sad look in his eyes for a moment. Did I respond in the wrong way? What did he expect me to say? “It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you, it’s just I knew John liked me and-” “I’ve heard enough.” The Doctor snapped. I froze, wait did the Doctor believe I don’t want to kiss him and preferred John? I walked off back to my room in a huff.

Martha had her arms folded as she emerged back in the console room, she raised her eyebrow, “Realy? You’re jealous.. of yourself?!”

“Well technically it wasn’t-“

“Your body, your lips! The whole time I spent with Y/N she missed you, she wanted you to come back! She didn’t want John Smith, John Smith was like a loved up puppy for Y/N!”

He blushed, “No I’m not-“

He froze realising he slipped up on his words, Martha nudged him, “I said John Smith…”

“Now go kiss and make up! Literally or not, that came out wrong.”

The Doctor hugged Martha, “Thank you for keeping Y/N safe and looking out for me while I was gone.”

Martha shrugged and smiled sadly as the Doctor walked away to find me. “No problem..”  

The Doctor walked to my room and gave the door a gentle knock. Changing back into my own clothes, I was trying to process all what had happened and been said. “Just a minute” I said whilst putting on my socks. Opening  the door I look up to see the Doctor with a serious yet saddened look upon his face. 

“Y/N I’m sorry for how I may have reacted back there. May I come in?” He gestured to the little sofa I have in my room. (everything seems little in this Tardis!) 

I let out a subtle sigh “Okay, you can come in.” 

He stepped inside my room, the Doctor seemed timid, awkward. Well he isn’t really the best at social situations.

 “I really am sorry, I just thought that you liked the John Smith version of me, over the real me.” The Doctor looked to me for an answer. I slowly walked closer to him. 

“Why would I like him more?? He’s not you.. No offence to your chameleon machine thingy..” I pointed out my bedroom to the console room in the distance where the chameleon mechanism hung above. “But John Smith was a little boring, especially in comparison to you, Doctor.”

 A large grin slowly formed on his face. “Well…” He said as he ran his fingers through his lovely brown hair. Then came to a sudden stop when he paused to study my blushed expression. “But seriously Doctor.. Do you know how hard it was to see the man you love walk around acting like you don’t exist?” His eyes widened, realisation spread across my face. 

“I-I mean-“

The Doctor was now closer than ever, his brown eyes gazed into mine, “I missed you.”

His lips melted into mine, this is what I always wanted, no needed. Although they felt the same as John Smiths, my heart fluttered even more knowing this time, they truly belonged to the Doctor! It grew deeper and felt like time had frozen, the passion the Doctor held back for so long became unravelled before me. He wrapped his hands around my waist, nothing felt so right in my life.

Then a voice clearing brought us back to reality, it was Martha, how long had she been standing there?

“See you two have both… erm.. sorted things out.”

The Doctor cleared his throat, “Martha maybe knock next time.”

His cheeks were red and hair slightly ruffled, oops I must have done that.

Martha huffed, “Just drop me off home and I will give you both some alone time!”

Me and the Doctor locked eyes, then we bursted into laughter. 

He held my hand as we walked out into the console room together. It was good to have my Doctor back. 

Thank you for reading!!!!

[two-sibyls-tall]

two-sibyls-tall official (dc) fic rec list:

OFFICIAL WARNING: FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING GOOD IN THIS WORLD, READ THE TAGS BEFORE YOU READ THE FIC

these fics are all ones I have reread many times- therefore each fic rec has a short summary afterwards that I wrote based on which scenes I randomly remember and want to reread so future me can find it easier.

miss me? - Jason came back to Gotham and attempted to torment his old family with his presence. Three of them have been mourning him so much that they don't even realize he's not a hallucination.

successor - Tim finds out who the Red Hood is early, and accidentally solves the whole problem.

Obedience - When captured by the Mad Hatter, Tim is chipped and forced to comply with any order that he's given. The batfamily doesn't notice for over a month.

The Waynes, Damsels in Distress - Oh no. The Waynes keep getting kidnapped. Hopefully the Justice League will help, since Batman is an urban myth and all.

problem solver - Tim's been stuck in a time loop that resets at 1 am, so he's not particularly worried when he kills Damian at 12:59. Then the clock hits 1:01.

one step forward - Jason has slowly been reintegrating himself with the Bats. Unfortunately, Dick doesn't seem eager to forgive OR forget. Dick thinks that maybe his hallucinations of Jason are getting out of control.

In This or Any Other Universe - Dick Grayson travels to the Batman (2022) universe with just enough time to pull Bruce's reputation out of the dirt and catch a circus performance.

Baby Birds and Bat Caves - Tim Drake has found a way to the Batcave! The other tunnels that he passes with lazarus pits, forgotten gods, and concerning mushrooms are a fantastic backdrop for his new haunted radio show.

Call and Response - The Bird Call is a series of identifying whistles used by the Batfamily to check in without needing comms. The Bird Call is later used to bring a wayward Robin home.

Asimov’s Integral - Robot!Tim is NOT family- he’s only allowed in the Manor for as long as he helps fix Robot!Jason. Bruce keeps forgetting to tell him that’s no longer the case.

The Second Son - All the Waynes have been kidnapped in civvies. Oracle contacts the only vigilante in the city, Red Hood, to help them.

!! Shameless Self-Promotion Time !!

i've watched you so long, screamed your name - Timothy Jackson Drake was shot and killed at 8 years old. Six years later, he becomes Robin.

^^ This fic is one I wrote! From this fic you can go down two roads: The series 'my mind turns your life into folklore' focuses on Young Justice (yj98 from the comics, to be clear) and how they find family with a few supernatural perks. The series 'can't turn back now, i'm haunted' focuses on the Batfamily and their path to discovering that Tim is a ghost.

[hawkbutt]

This ain't Texas, ain't no hold 'em.

Art Inspired by @exhuastedpigeon's fic lay your cards down, down, down.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

"Kiss me there again..." with either the tenth or twelfth doctor please? 👀

"Oh, there, you mean?" The Doctor asked, lips hovering just above your skin. His eyes peered up at you from between his lashes. "Safe t'say you like that, then, I suppose."

You attempted to swat at him half-heartedly, and his hand caught yours with no effort. He clicked his tongue teasingly and you shrunk under his gaze.

"Naughty, naughty," he scolded lightly, dipping in to bite you. You yelped in surprise, body twisting to try and escape those sharp teeth of his.

"Sorry, sir," you bit your lip, reaching up to pull affectionately at his curls.

"That's more like it," he said, finally tearing his gaze from your own and back to the skin that sat so close to his lips. "Now, where were we?"

[livesincerely]

Jack tilts his head, trailing his mouth along the inside of Davey’s thigh in ardent adoration. Then he puts his teeth to tender skin and bites.

Davey lets out a gasp, soft and a little strangled.

“Oh, that’s a good noise,” Jack murmurs, admiring his handiwork. “Wanna let me hear it again, sweetheart?”

“You fucker,” Davey breathes. He’s got a white-knuckled grip on the couch cushions, his heels digging sharply into Jack’s back.

“No, see, that wasn’t really a question,” Jack muses. He slides his hand lower, until he can hook it around the back of Davey’s knee and ease his legs further apart. “‘M gonna get ‘em either way, but I’m happy ta drag ‘em outta ya if that’s how you wanna play this.”

“Oh, don’t let me stop you,” Davey says. His eyes have turned dark, his pupils fully eclipsing his irises and starting to bleed into the whites. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I’d like to see you beg,” Jack retorts, leaning in to suck another hickey into Davey’s thigh.

Davey sighs, and the sound of it is just as sweet as the first. Then he reaches down, grabs a fistful of Jack’s hair, and tugs.

Jack groans, eyes fluttering at the sensation, and he allows himself to be drawn up onto his knees, pulled forward until their lips can meet in the middle, mouths moving in tandem, hot and hungry.

“I’m not so sure I’ll be the one that ends up begging,” Davey purrs in a low, husky voice that sends flames of desire licking down his spine, the smartass.

“Take off your fucking pants,” Jack growls back.

[tempestuous-lush]

toss a coin

summary: you run into an old friend, geralt of rivia, while you are on the run. he offers you a safe refuge at kaer morhen, among other things.

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, fingering, i guess technically public sex (?), some small notes of violence. 18+ only, MINORS DNI

I am slightly nervous. My first time really fiddling with Geralt and I haven't written for a few weeks really so I feel a bit rusty. Hope fully we like this. I wanna dedicate it to @sweetieswiftie.

The cold was not something to which you were accustomed.

Toussaint had always been wonderful weather.

You thought longingly of the wine and food that could be found there, even as the barkeep in Creyden sat your food down before you. It was some sort of salted meat. He poured a foul-smelling mead into a cup to accompany it. Peering up towards him, you smiled. Your lips were full and a deep red, bringing forth the beautiful white of your smile, your green eyes half hidden beneath your thick heavy lashes from that angle. You knew the effect you had even before the man stammered a “your welcome miss.�� After all, it was the look you had about you that had allowed you to get so close the emperor of Nilfgaard.

Angrily, you considered your failings at assassination that had caused you to flee so far up North. After all, anywhere near home and the hefty bounty on your head might become your undoing. Granted, a few had followed in your path to try and bring you back…or at the very least your head. You massacred them. There were few things you were as good at as killing. Though, everyone always underestimated you.

You stabbed a hunk of the salted meat with your fork and tore a piece off with your teeth before chasing it with the mead. A sense of comfort washed over you. The food and drink here, at least in the harsh winter, was meant to warm you…not impress you, and you respected it for that much, at least.

Though, as the doors opened and a gust of cold blew inside, your eyes automatically drew to the source. Green eyes landed on a witcher. Not just any witcher. Geralt of Rivia…the Butcher of Blaviken. Before his eyes landed on you, your hands drew your hood up, effectively shielding you from view, mouth the only thing visible in the shadows it cast.

You could tell by the way people reacted; he was as welcomed here as many of the places he visited. You quickly finished up the food and drink you had before slipped out and back into the night. The furs that lined the inside of your cloak did what the could to keep you warm, the heavy velvet of your hood doing the same. As you walked through the snow, boots managing to stay atop most of the depth, a voice drifted from the darkness, “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize you, little blade of Toussaint?”

Reacting physically before you could process, your hand unleashed a dagger that was sheathed against your hip, coated in a poison for which only you had the antidote. Geralt expected as much. He knew what you attempted, and he knew you weren’t going to speak with ease or trust when he saw you. Even still, he only barely managed to dodge the blade, the sound of it sinking into the wood behind him unmistakable.

You heard a sigh escape him, before he spoke again, “What are you doing this far North? No one closer to home willing to hide you from the emperor?”

“They’re too scared…or too greedy. What are you, witcher? Feeling greedy as well?” With a grace that was unmistakable you unsheathed your sword, and held yourself at the ready, hood falling away to reveal your features, “Because I won’t surrender easily…and I’m feeling untrusting.”

Geralt smirked a bit, the whiteness of his hair a sharp contrast to the wild darkness of yours. He spoke up, “Well, little blade, I’m definitely not feeling scared. Not of you.”

With a steadfast resolve you swiftly threw another dagger and used that as a means to move in, Geralt barely getting his own blade out. The sound of the metal clashing would have drawn attention had it not been too cold for people to venture outside. As he deflected your attack, you side stepped and pulled the dagger from the wood that you first threw. Even as you moved in for another attack, he regained his footing and pulled back. It was then that you realized he wasn’t on the attack. In attempt to feel him out, you swung high with your sword and as he blocked, you sliced at the skin of his thigh with the dagger.

Geralt let out a hiss of pain. The effect of the poison would be instantaneous. His movement was already slowed. Satisfied that he was subdued, you looked at him with skepticism, “Why…why did you follow me out here, Geralt? If not to take me in for the bounty, then what?”

His face was twisted as he answered, “To offer you a safe place to hide at Kaer Morhen.”

“Why? There is nothing that you owe me. There is no reason for you to offer refuge.” He had fallen onto one knee. You slowly walked towards him, sliding the tip of you blade beneath his chin, forcing him to look up at you. His features were rough, but those eyes still held your attention. They had all those years ago when you had crossed his path in Toussaint.

His eyes stared into your own, and he so wanted to see the green of them. The darkness hid them, though. He huffed before answering you, “There is no reason for you to die for what you tried. The emperor won’t lift the bounty until he knows you’re dead. So come with me, where you’ll be safe. Come on little blade.”

You pulled the blade back, “Fine. But the dagger I cut you with, there is a poison laced on it that would even effect you. I have the antidote. Let me patch you up. Trust me, you’d rather me do that first.”

“…fuck.”

“Relax, Geralt. You’ll be fine. Come on.”

It was slow going but you found a clearing lit up by the moonlight and had him sit down in the snow, but only after you removed your cloak and laid it out for the two of you to sit upon. You quickly ripped back the cloth of his leg, the flesh of the wound turning a nasty purple tinged with blue. A shiver raced through you as your fingers swiftly applied the antidote, until your fingertips shook violently, before finishing the application.

Forcing your way through the cold, you finished your work and fell to the ground, hands catching you but barely. A smile before you managed to shakily get out, “I’m afraid I don’t handle the cold very well.”

Geralt struggled to get to his feet, even though his body readily took the antidote and began to work. Stepping back, he looked down at you, “I have a way for you to warm up, little blade, if you like. Can’t have you half frozen by the time we reach Kaer Morhen. Come on.”

He helped you stand before throwing the cloak back over your shoulders, the warmth you received from that feeling minimal now. Reluctantly, you followed him to where he had left Roach. He helped you up first before climbing up after you. His body heat against your back felt nice, though you knew once the horse started moving the cold would bite at your face. Not to mention…what about your things back at the Inn? Geralt interrupted you as soon as you started to speak up, “I can come back.”

Of course, he already knew what one of your objections were. You pulled your hood around your face as Geralt led Roach further out into the wilderness, teeth chattering as you asked, “What makes you think I would be safe at Kaer Morhen?”

“Because the only ones who know the location are fellow witchers…and a few others that we trust implicitly.” He leaned down so that he whispered in your ear, “Still don’t trust me, do you?”

A smile spread upon your lips before you responded, “It’s the only way I’m still alive Geralt.”

Next thing you knew, Roach stopped at a clearing. You could see steam rising from a pool before you. A hot spring. Your bones nearly melted at the idea. Geralt swung down before helping you, though he knew you didn’t need it. You walked to the edge of the pool and reached down to feel it with your bared fingers. You wanted to cry at just how good that felt. You swiftly made short work of your cloak, outerwear, and boots before turning to Geralt, “You could join me if you like. The heat would help speed up the healing process. And after the bath house in Toussaint, a hot spring can’t be much different.”

With that, you stripped off the cotton tunic, leather pants and woolen socks. Geralt stole glances of your form as you slipped under the water, looking at the pile of your clothes and back towards you. He thought of the bath house in Toussaint and slowly followed you. As you turned around in the water, your dark hair trailing behind you, you saw Geralt stalking towards you before coming up short, “Why’d you do it, risk your life for an impossible task?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

A smile hinted at your lips as the two of you stood there, steam from the hot spring swirling between you. His face was unreadable, as usual, but the question implied some sort of worry, “Geralt, I watched the emperor order his soldiers to slay my entire family, just for him to return to his throne and eat his meal and drink his wine as if nothing had occurred. And I’m not the only one. Not to mention the countless wars fought in his name that have killed hundreds of thousands. And for what? A bigger kingdom? A grab for power? He is vile…evil. Evil shouldn’t get to live, let alone prosper. I would do it again if I could.”

Geralt’s hand reached behind you and grabbed at your hair, yanking your head back, exposing your neck. Holding you there, his eyes looked you over, “It’s rare to find someone so brave, and so stupid.”

Your teeth bit at your lower lip to suppress your laughter, even as your hand splayed out across his chest, his muscles firm and unyielding beneath your touch. The two of you stayed like this for some time, observing the other, until slowly your hand began to slip lower, disappearing beneath the water. You nearly moaned when your fingers wrapped around his cock, only half hard but already so big.

At the contact, something in Geralt snapped and his mouth came crashing down over yours, that hand of his still fisting your hair. You readily let his tongue into your mouth, the taste of him as good as you remembered. His hand free of your hair fell down your back before wrapping around the meat of your thigh and pulling up so that you wrapped your legs around him, breaking the kiss.

You leaned back, arching your chest so that he could lean over you.

His mouth fell hot on you, tongue lapping at the peaked nipples, lips closing and sucking them. Just as you grew used to the sensation, he would drag his tongue and teeth across your sternum and begin again. He hummed appreciatively, “Just as soft and beautiful as I remember, little blade.”

Freeing his hand from your hair, Geralt instead rested it on your upper back, right over the only scar you had. The only reason he knew it was there was because he put it there. You thought you could best him the last time you had met, and he proved otherwise.

“Tell me”- Geralt released his hold on you, allowing you to dip back in the water, his hand traveling between your legs before a finger edged at your folds – “does this still taste as sweet as I remember?”

Just as you went to answer your voice faltered, the thickness of his fingers pushing inside of you. His finger began moving, coaxing softly, and your nails dug deeper into his skin. You barely managed to reply, “H-how would I know that, Geralt?”

“You’re forgetting, I’ve seen you pleasuring yourself, fingers covered in your slick, and you licked them clean. If my little blade is a creature of habit, it wasn’t the first nor the last.” Geralt was groaning and speaking in hushed tones in your ear. It wasn’t to try and keep quiet either. No, while he spoke, he had slipped in a second finger and the sounds that escaped you were loud and incoherent and went straight to his cock.

He slipped his fingers out of you, which left you mewling for him, until he turned you around, ass towards him. The sounds of desperation died in your throat at the feeling of his hard cock pressed against you and his fingers dipping between your legs again, but this time for your clit. Geralt’s other hand palmed one of your breasts, twisting and pinching the nipple occasionally as his fingers circled your clit, aching for him to touch. Until finally, his fingers entered you again, this time his palm pressing against you. Every motion of his fingers caused his palm to rub against your clit and had you gasping and crying out, “Please, G-Geralt, please, give me all of you. Please.”

“Hmmm, guess I will have plenty of time to reacquaint myself when we get to Kaer Morhen.” And at that, Geralt turned you back around to face him. You quickly reached your arms around his neck and at the same time he stood to his full height, your legs wrapping around his waist.

He held onto both legs as he lowered you onto him. Geralt moaned as the head of his cock speared you, your pussy taking him in eagerly. You lapped up the water beads along his chest before sinking your teeth into the flesh of his shoulder. At that, he began moving you up and down, your pussy wet and ready. The way he stretched you open, just brushing your cervix with the tip, was delicious. Hands still holding onto him, you leaned your head back again.

The sound of skin hitting skin was intoxicating and you never wanted it to end.

Geralt remembered a few things about you. One in particular was that you enjoyed a bit of pain. So, as you leaned back, one of his arms held your lower back and he bit into the skin of your neck as he continued thrusting into you before dragging his tongue over the same spot. If your cry wasn’t enough of a sign, the way your pussy tightened around him was also plenty enough to tell. He continued biting and licking along your exposed skin, the way it felt along the sensitive skin of your chest, combined with the feeling of him driving into you. You were so close to a release. Something you hadn’t had in months and didn’t realize you so desperately craved. You felt your back beginning to tighten as he held you there, the warmth of the water relaxing your muscles even as they tightened, and you pleaded, “P-please Geralt. M’so close.”

With a grunt Geralt pushed you off of him and before you could so much as protest, he had you pushed up against the deeper side of the spring, your hands fumbling for a moment before finding rock to hold onto. Spreading your legs, he rutted into you the same time his fingers found your clit, biting your shoulder just as you had done to him earlier.

His pace was brutal, and suddenly your vision grew hot, and breath grew nearly feral until you were cumming hard and fast. Instead of pausing to work you down gently, he kept fucking you until you were truly wrecked. Your body was his in this moment. He took his hand from your clit and grabbed a handful of hair to yank your head back. His breath fell against your ear as he murmured, “Mmmm, look at you. You still feel so good to me. Let’s get you so satisfied you sleep the whole way to Kaer Morhen.”

Soon, he lived up to his words, and had you crying out half formed words as you tried to find them. The sound of the water sloshing about as he kept up his brutal pace. You had already cum once, and you were about to again. His large hand slid from your hair to your throat and pulled him close to you. All that you could focus on was the way he felt stretching you, filling you. Until, suddenly, your second orgasm hit you hard and fast and as you came, he slowed his thrusts, and you could feel him filling you with his cum.

As he let you go, he stared at you, those yellow eyes feeling as though they pierced your soul.

Instead of focusing on them, you gave a good laugh.

His head tilted to the side, “What’s so funny?”

“You know when I first heard it, I wasn’t sure, but I get it now. I really, really wish I had a spare coin to toss.”

He gave his stereotypical grunt before following up with, “I’m going to kill him.”

You watched as Geralt stepped out of the hot spring across the way before pulling a blanket from his pack to use to dry off. You were convinced you could see this at any time, and it wouldn’t be an unwelcome sight. A bit absentmindedly you noted, “Your leg already looks better, witcher.”

“Blood flow always helps.”

Not sure why, a blush spread across your face.

You boldly followed behind him and felt the cold hitting your skin before you were all the way out. Quickly you stole the blanket and began to dry off, desperately wanting the warmth of your cloak. By the time you were bundled up, Geralt was sitting proud atop Roach. He extended a hand and helped you up, making sure you were sitting in front of him. At that, Geralt gave a click with his tongue and a slight tap of his heel and Roach was off at a leisurely pace.

Surprising yourself, but not Geralt, you slowly drifted off to sleep until the brightness of the morning sun slowly wakened you. Off in the distance was what you were assuming was Kaer Morhen. Geralt felt you stir beneath him and he leaned down, “Welcome to your new home…however long you need it.”

[jayswingart]

in time for 2024: silly left 4 dead 1 survivor portraits!

technically, i finished these drawings before 2024 but i finished the addon itself after. anyways, hope you enjoy!

Link here: https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=3128284193

[khaosrealms]

Im literally vibrating in my chair please a part two of that Syzoth fic please I need them interacting more ♥️♥️

LACERTA’S GEM. (PART TWO!) / SYZOTH X PRINCESS! READER.

a/n: it brings me nothing but joy to know you enjoyed the first part! i am happy to please— so of course, here is your part two! 💚

- After your second encounter with Syzoth, it wasn’t long until you made acquaintance with one another soon after. Returning to the stage, chin held high and hands tucked behind you with excitement, only to see your dear sister Kitana on the floor and Tanya engaged in kombat with the very man you’d just let go. Thinking nothing of the possibility that this might be the reason for his flighty disposition. Your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach as you ran to your older sister’s side, inspecting for newfound bruises or cuts. But nothing— dull hits, nothing but enough to deter her from continuing a fight. Whatever it was Syzoth was doing, it wasn’t in the name of hurting your family.

- From that point onwards, it was all about picking the pieces of whatever the hell was going on. Betrayal from General Shao and Shang Tsung, allyship with mortals from Earthrealm, and— the small increments of time you’d begun to find with Syzoth. Assisting where the battle might require you; during the silent period before the execution of a plan, that’s where he spoke most with you. Hesitantly, at first, for you were positive he believed you held some ire for him that day at the festival stage. Ashamed, from the way he spoke to the way he’d bent his head.

“Princess, if I may?” You never enjoyed it, that fervent necessity those who knew of your place in Outworld had to being near your presence. If I may, with all due respect, if you’ll excuse me, even here, far from your mother’s court, overseeing what would soon be a battlefield, that courtesy did not leave. So you do not answer, rather, you wait— and slowly, you can see the hesitation drip in and drip out from Syzoth’s disposition. Carrying him to a seat a slight ways beside you. Hands folded between his thighs, holding words between his lips that remain knotted there before finally releasing; an undertone of hesitation throughout. “Am I disrupting your peace?” You almost want to chuckle, if it didn’t seem it’d rattle the Zaterran beyond your desire.

“You are not.” Short, to tug him towards continuing, and enough to make his shoulders loosen. “I’m simply thinking, Syzoth. Why do you ask?” You’d spend a majority of the time from the days since avoiding his gaze, not of wrath, but almost— out of hesitation. Hesitation to accept his role in all this, hesitation, knowing the man who your mother, the Empress, took council from was the very man who enslaved him. “I’m afraid I may have soiled what.. little fate you had of me when we had met, that day of the festival.” Ah yes, that day. How could you have possibly forgotten? The day a shapeshifting Zaterran nearly conquered Outworld itself. He can’t help but shift when you chuckle at his words, nervous, perhaps— but less so when you turn to look at him, finally, and a small smile sits there on your lips.

“You had your reasons, Syzoth, I know of that now. And my dear sister forgives you, so why too shouldn’t I?” You wouldn’t admit that there’s a part of you that stirs when Syzoth finally allows himself to smile. A swirling of something warm in your chest as he breathes a sigh of relief, the dark circles beneath his eyes creasing with his grin. “That brings me more solace than you could imagine, Princess.” And to you, as well, simply seeing how much the assurance placed him at ease. “Perhaps then, we could.. speak to one another? Pass the time?”

- You’d discover more and more of Syzoth as the time continued to pass. His life as a Zaterran, his isolation due to his abilities, his family, now lost, the simple pleasures he enjoy in life, and him, of you. Your life as the youngest daughter of Empress Sindel, the isolation due to your royal status, your family, forever by your side. Opposite reflections of one another, a kind of magnetism in knowing just how different you were from one another. And even though your sister Mileena had teased you, asking if you’d planned to make a Zeterran a part of the royal lineage, you continued to make his company. Waiting, during the moments of silence, for Syzoth to appear. At times, in his true form, where you’d request time to admire, and at times, in his shifted form, where you’d find yourself chuckling at the true parts of him that’d peek through to his human body.

- When the titan Shang Tsung is defeated, there’s a peace that finally falls over Outerworld. Like a taut rubber band being reeled back. The first person you celebrate with, barring your own blood, is Syzoth. Looking for him, perhaps without even realizing, amongst the crowd of those who had remained; and there he was, looking back at you, relief painted in his eyes like two emeralds. You hadn’t planned on hugging him when you raced to him, but fueled purely with adrenaline, you embrace him, ignoring the gazes of those watching with quiet shock. His hands stuck to his side before they find themselves wrapped around your waist, clutching, as if it had been years since another soul dared hold him. Better you ignore the sound of Johnny cooing tediously.

“Are you alright, Syzoth?” “I am unhurt, Princess. And you?” “A few bruises, but nothing I cannot withstand.” He smelled of blood and sweat, and his face, caked in dirt, flushed a dark, leafy green. You’d never met a man who’d blushed with such a hue. You never would meet anyone again like Syzoth, and the thought made your heart thump anxiously in your chest. Even as you parted, clearing your throat as you returned your hands to yourself. “What will you do now, now that you are free again?” The thought seems to paralyze him. A fugitive of Outworld, a freak to his people, perhaps he hadn’t thought of anything but simply making it through the battle alive. “I do not know, Princess. Truthfully.” He muttered, hands clasped in front of him. Tensing, flexing, as if somehow the answer would squeeze out from between his fingers.

Instead, you offer. Your hand gently resting atop his, colder than you’d expected, but stiff no longer. “I’m sure my sister Mileena would be delighted to have you amongst her confidants as the new Empress.” There again, that glimmer of hope in his eyes, and there once more, that warmth, bubbling in your chest. You cannot help but smile at the sight of it. “I can be very convincing when it comes to the things I want.” Of him being apart of her court, of course, but it doesn’t stop the true intentions behind your words from slipping past. A rush of red splayed over your cheeks that Syzoth notices with ease. Greeted by his own visage, hints of green coming to his ears. “An enticing offer, Princess.” Sly Zaterran. “Enticing enough to say yes?” You’d be crushed if the answer was anything but. Yet, with simply one look, Syzoth’s smile is enough to tell you his answer. “The first Zaterran among the Empress’ court. It certainly would be something, wouldn’t it?”

[ghoulangerlee]

are you watching me with eyes of a predator ; swiss/ifrit

commissioned by @wrathofrats, this one got to be so out of control from what I originally planned but I do have to say I'm very happy with how it turned out haha.

7k of sloppy sex featuring newly summoned Swiss and Ifrit who's in charge of his surface acclimation.

content: wing/feather kink, Just The Tip, cunnilingus, Wet&Messy, multiple orgasms, vague play at Innocence kink, Ifrit-bimbofication, Swiss has a cunt in this one though he's not explicitly mentioned to be trans (cunt and clit and folds are used for his anatomy).

read it here on ao3!

fic under the read more:

The summoning chambers are always cold, mostly dark—the ceilings high and grand in a way that makes it feel less like a basement and more like a chapel. 

At least, that’s what Ifrit thinks as he stands off to the side, watching Cardinal Copia putter around the chamber, the circle is pristine and stark in the center of the room and each candle corresponding with the elemental symbol sits in its place—it's all too perfect really, so much different from the other summonings he’s been a part of.  

He’s only here to be part of the welcoming crew, as his place in the band had been dissolved, much to his own relief. There was an ache in him after Terzo’s death, something about going back on stage with a new face didn’t sit right with him, made him feel jumpy and nervous—he's not sure why, but he knew that once Cardinal Copia became part of it all, he’d need to step back. 

So, he did.  

But he’s been helping with a few behind the scenes things for now, practicing with Dew, who’s taken his spot in the band, working with Rain, the new water ghoul that Cardinal Copia had summoned—and while it wasn’t the exciting life that Terzo had promised him when he was first summoned, it was definitely different.  

The Cardinal is speaking, reciting Latin from a book he’s holding, chanting through stanzas of words as the circle on the floor starts to come to life—around them, the others are waiting with bated breath to see if the offering, if the request is enough to entice another ghoul forward.  

It can be tricky sometimes to find the ghouls who want to come to the surface, and while it's supposed to be voluntary, he knows that sometimes it’s not, and in the past, it had been such a big thing within the church.  

He likes to think that Cardinal Copia is on the right side of history these days, but it’s always hard to tell—he'd been summoned and promised so many things, only for his summoner to be murdered and his station in church be questioned by the very people who’d carried out the murder.  

There’s a hush in the room and Ifrit’s drawn back to the present in enough time to see a ghoul claw its way out of the portal—stark black skin and shining mismatched eyes, the ghoul has feathers but smells strongly of fire, of burning wood and ozone.  

Ifrit is almost immediately enamored.  

- 

His name is Swiss, at least, that’s what he settles on after the others gather round and toss out name suggestions—they all have names, but some of them are harder for humans to vocalize, most of them unable to properly speak Infernal in a way that’s understandable.  

It’s just easier to choose a new name, rather than be referred to as ghoul all the time (though this doesn’t discount the ghouls who do want to be called ghoul; it’s their prerogative, but Ifrit doesn’t like the way the word sits on a human tongue, sounding more like an insult than a name.). 

When Swiss grins at being called Swiss, Ifrit has to look away from that sharp yet bright smile, the sparkle in his eyes—one is a soft lavender color and the other a warm brown, because suddenly he wants to be the reason that Swiss is smiling.  

Cardinal Copia calls him forth and Ifrit goes, while the others are still fawning over Swiss, he ignores it in favor of focusing on the human, standing with his hands clasped behind his back in front of him.  

“I know you’re probably tired of this,” Cardinal Copia says with a wry sort of laugh, “But do you have the bandwidth to acclimate one more ghoul?”  

Ifrit grins, looks back at where Swiss is standing in a half-formed circle with the others, then back at the Cardinal, he shrugs, tries not to show his excitement at the prospect of it all, “I could move a few things around.”  

The worry lines on the Cardinals face seem to melt away and he smiles, reaches out and gently pats his gloved hand against Ifrit’s sleeve covered arm, “Thank you, I’ll make sure to requisition pay for this,” he says as a promise—and yeah, the money is good, but the idea of having a newly summoned hybrid ghoul almost outweighs it.  

Well. He’s getting a bit ahead of himself.  

“No worries, Cardinal. I know the song catalogue too; do you know what you’re going to have him do yet? We can work on that once we finish with the acclimation.” 

Cardinal Copia looks thoughtful, “I’ll need to think it over first, but I’ll let you know. If you could get him familiar with it all though, that’d be wonderful.” 

“No problem,” Ifrit says with a casual indifference that he’s somewhat proud of, “If there’s anything else just let me know. I’m going to go ahead and,” he breaks off, waving his hand in the direction of the other ghouls—they've got Swiss wrapped up in a cloak now, hood pulled over his head, but despite that, Ifrit can still see the glow of his eyes. “We’re going to head up to the den now if that’s alright with you.”  

(Expecting a newly summoned ghoul to glamour so soon can backfire sometimes, can be messy and horrifying if they’re not used to the surface, if their magic isn’t attuned to everything, if they’re without a proper pack—not that Swiss had been summoned packless, he’d been, by default, initiated the moment he accepted the offerings, but still, it was better safe than sorry.) 

The Cardinal pats Ifrit’s arm one more time before stepping back, “Yes, of course, thank you again. I’ll be in touch about the rest of it all. And you should expect payment within the next week. I trust that you’ll take care of him.”  

Ifrit smiles sickly sweet, “Of course, Cardinal, only the best care for the band ghouls.”  

-- 

Swiss is different, Ifrit learns as the two of them spend a lot of time together—almost immediately after the pack whisk him away out of the basement and up to the den, the tense line of his shoulders goes loose and the drops the hood down from over his head.  

He grins at Ifrit, cocking his head to the side—his tightly coiled curls bouncing with the movement of his head, “Didn’t realize there could be two fire ghouls in the band.”  

There’s something melodic and mesmerizing about his voice and Ifrit blinks a few times to clear the sudden fog in his mind, “There’s not,” he answers, “I’m not in the band, I just help with the administrative stuff.”  

Swiss cocks an eyebrow at him, “So I’m administrative stuff then?” he asks, shifting the cloak around his shoulders enough that the front of it opens just enough for Ifrit to get an eyeful of dark, bare skin; the flash of lavender further down.  

He clears his throat, “Acclimation falls under administrative,” he says, knowing how stupid he sounds as he says it, but unable to stop his mouth from continuing the thought, “I’m pretty good at it. Acclimating new ghouls to the surface.”  

“Oh?” Swiss asks, his eyes shining in amusement, tugging the front of the cloak together again, “Well, then I’m glad that I’m in your capable hands,” he purrs, stepping further into Ifrit’s space, “I’m sure you’ll teach me all about life on the surface.”  

He does, or he tries to, but Swiss is so distracting—on purpose it feels like.  

It takes Swiss several days to fully form his glamour, so he spends a good portion of the time before mostly nude; not uncommon because Rain had been completely nude for the first few weeks of him time here, but Ifrit hadn’t wanted to drag Rain to his bed in the same way that he wants Swiss there.  

And Swiss seems to know it too, if the way he preens whenever he catches Ifrit watching him, the way he seems to purposely run his fingers through the no doubt soft feathers that Ifrit can see peeking just above the waistband of the slacks he’s wearing.  

Unfortunately, Ifrit knows just how far those feathers go down as pants were a new thing for Swiss within the last day, now choosing to mostly walk around shirtless within the den—he’s less feathered below the belt, he’d explained, and every shirt he’d tried on thus far just felt constricting to his feathers.  

Again, everything was fine.  

He was sure that this was a very normal thing that air ghouls went through, he was summoned after Zephyr, so he hadn’t had a chance to see if this was just how they were on the surface or not, too focused on his own acclimation.  

He was sure that his own mind made things worse because of how attractive he found Swiss, because the others seemed less enamored by him, though no doubt just as friendly, like pack were. 

Like Ifrit should have been. 

Instead, he was here trying his best not to scare off Swiss—sex was a natural thing, as natural to them as breathing most of the time, their nature as ghouls meant they had less reservations about things than humans did so it should have been no problem, just bring it up to Swiss and then it’d be done.  

They could fuck about it and move on with the acclimation.  

But maybe, just maybe Ifrit had been around humans for too long and now he’s here, reconsidering everything; thinking about going to the Cardinal and letting him know that he’ll need to get someone else to help with the acclimation because he couldn’t do it with a clear head.  

Not when his baser instincts were nearly screaming at him to take Swiss to bed, to make him his.  

Maybe, if he could just ignore the voice inside his head, telling him that every little thing Swiss was doing was Swiss opening up to him, accepting him as some sort of sexual partner even though he hadn’t asked—well, if he could ignore it, then he wouldn’t feel so awful about the focus he was putting on trying to make sure Swiss understood what life on the surface was like instead of putting his focus on pack bonding.  

(If he focused too hard on Swiss and pack then his mind tended to get possessive. The urge to take Swiss and hide him away, the need to be the one to make Swiss smile, laugh, happy.) 

Swiss however, was no idiot.  

“You smell like you want to fuck,” Swiss says bluntly, head tilted as he corners Ifrit—he's taller, by only a few inches, taller, but not as broad as Ifrit, except when he’s got Ifrit backed up against the wall of the den, Ifrit feels small.  

Ifrit makes a noise, presses his hands flat against the wall, “Oh, it’s...almost time for. You know how ghoul biology works,” he says, though it's a flimsy excuse, about six months too early to really mean anything—the pulse of heat under his skin has nothing to do with anything other than the way Swiss is looking down at him.  

“Mmhm,” Swiss says, somewhat like he barely believes him and well, fair, even Ifrit barely believes the things he’s said. “I’m beginning to think you don’t like me all that much, firebird,” he plants a hand beside Ifrit’s head and leans down into his space, “But your scent tells me that you do like me and it’s very confusing.”  

That’s all fine and dandy because Ifrit is also confused.  

“I’m supposed to help you acclimate,” Ifrit says carefully, not wanting to reveal too much about himself or the entire situation, “Cardinal Copia asked me to do it because the others are preparing for the tour coming up, easier to delegate to the guy who’s not going on tour.”  

Swiss tilts his head, his mismatched eyes look bigger up close, shiny and wide as he stares into Ifrit’s eyes before leaning back, “I’ve been on the surface before,” he says slowly, “I...am almost certain I mentioned that before. I know how this whole thing works, just not the glamour bit cause I didn’t need one of those where I was last summoned.”  

Swiss may have mentioned it once, maybe twice, if Ifrit thinks about it too hard and pushes past the weird feelings he has around that, not that Swiss being summoned previously is a problem—it's actually the opposite of it, it’s something so grand that Ifrit almost wants to propose they fuck about this whole misunderstanding.  

(Is it really a misunderstanding if only Ifrit misunderstood?)  

“You’ve been really weird this whole time, you smell like you want me but then you shy away from touching me,” Swiss stares hard at Ifrit’s face, almost enough to make Ifrit squirm, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have some sort of weird thing about wanting to fuck me but not wanting to fuck me because I’m new.”  

It’s a little judgmental, his words, and Ifrit can’t help the stir of shame, the flood of arousal, he swallows heavily, works his jaw a few times trying to find the right words, “Well,” he says, “I just don’t want to come on too strong or anything.”  

Swiss laughs then, it’s a loud and boisterous sound and it fills Ifrit with warmth, “Too strong?” he asks, and then he reaches up, shuffles his fingers through his own hair, lower down towards the back of his neck, works something free—a feather, it’s soft purple on the ends, the color fading into a warm chocolate brown towards the base.  

Ifrit watches somewhat dumbly as Swiss brings the feather closer, drawing the tip of it against his cheek, down his jaw, ticking his throat, “I think when you figure out your little shame thing, you should come find me,” he whispers.  

He flushes, pale pink against his gray skin, eyes fluttering a little as Swiss drags the tip of the feather across his collarbones, “Maybe we can work something out,” he continues, speaking in a near whisper now as he finally straightens, pulls the feather away from Ifrit’s skin.  

“But you’ve got to be the one to make the first move, baby,” Swiss murmurs smoothly, reaching down to take Ifrit’s hand, rubbing his thumb against the center of his palm before he presses the feather into Ifrit’s hand, a clear sign of his intentions.  

“Too strong?” he asks as he takes a few steps back, a satisfied grin on his lips as he watches Ifrit for a moment. “You know where to find me, baby.”  

Before Ifrit’s able to form a proper sentence, Swiss is gone, melting into the shadows like some kind of apparition, leaving behind a feather and the lingering scent of burning wood and ozone.  

- 

It takes him decidedly less time to get over himself as Swiss had put it in not so many words, the feather held delicately between his fingers as he paced the length of the den, sure that if he were to walk any harder or any faster, he’d wear a hole in the stone.  

“Oh, he finally told you, huh?” Dew asks, coming into the den, carrying a basket of laundry, “We were wondering if you were ever going to catch on that he was trying to get your attention.” 

Ifrit stops walking, turns to look at Dew, who’s stopped by the door, watching him, “You knew?” he asked, “Why didn’t you say something?” 

Dew snorts softly and hefts the basket of laundry up higher on his hip, “What? And miss a chance to watch you fumble around? You were the one who decided to think too loud with your dick and ignore what Swiss was saying to you.”  

“I’ll admit that I’ve been handling him too carefully,” Ifrit says, only mildly insulted by Dew’s insinuation, “But, the last thing anyone needs is being accosted by the person helping them acclimate when they’re first summoned.”  

Unimpressed, Dew finally moves further into the room and places the laundry basket down on the couch, “Yeah, he made it very clear that first week that he wasn’t new to the surface, and one could argue that he made it clearer by accepting your advances, however unconscious those were,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Seriously though, and I mean this in the nicest way I can muster, you smell absolutely disgusting to me right now, will you please go take care of that so things can go vaguely back to normal.”  

It’s not a question and there’s an undercurrent of annoyance in Dew’s tone that Ifrit’s not too keen on pushing, “Yeah, sure, I was just thinking,” he holds the feather up, twirling it between his fingers, “I’ll get out of your hair, take care of everything and you’ve got nothing to worry about, big guy.”  

Dew levels him with another unimpressed stare, “Just go,” he says, “Satan help me, you’re the one acting like you’ve never bedded a new summon before.”   

A fair point that Ifrit doesn’t try to argue on, choosing instead to leave the communal den and to leave Dew to his chores, heart pounding as he heads down the hallway towards the separate dens each ghoul has—the whole time Dew’s words bounce around in his head.  

Accepting your advances.  

“Was I really that obtuse?” he asks himself out loud as he hurries further down the hallway until he comes to a stop in front of Swiss’s room.  

The door’s ajar, just slightly, and there’s low humming coming from inside.  

Ifrit pauses there with his hand raised to knock, biting his lower lip. He could knock, could push the door open and announce his presence—he could, but he stops for a moment, steps back and takes a deep breath.  

“You can come inside, you know,” Swiss’s voice calls out, amused, “I won’t bite unless you ask first.”  

He pushes the door open just enough to slip inside and closes it quietly behind him—Swiss's room smells strongly of the multi-ghoul and little else; the scent of smoldering wood permeates the area, filling Ifrit’s senses, calling to him; there’s an undercurrent of something fresh, the smell of open air on a sunny day.  

Swiss himself is lounging on the bed, blankets haphazard like he’d been sleeping; he’s wearing sweats and a cropped t-shirt, only glamoured enough that his wings aren’t visible, and Ifrit feels ravenous all of a sudden.  

“My eyes are up here, firebird,” Swiss says, amused, a grin stretching across his lips when Ifrit’s eyes meet his instead of where they’d been glued to his feathery happy trail.  

Ifrit’s mouth feels dry and there’s heat coursing through his veins, “I don’t have feathers,” he says, somewhat dumbly.  

Swiss pushes himself into a sitting position and reaches a hand out towards Ifrit, “You don’t,” he agrees easily, beckoning him forward with a finger, “Come here and I’ll show you mine.”  

A choked noise leaves Ifrit but he shuffles forward, letting himself come to a stop as his knees hit the foot of Swiss’s bed—not that he stays there for long, because Swiss is sitting up further, reaching out and fisting a hand in his shirt, dragging him up onto the bed with little to no preamble.  

“Dew said you had a thing for newly summoned ghouls and that once they’re acclimated, you like to invite them to bed with you,” Swiss murmurs in the space between them—this close, Ifrit can make out the specks of white and gold in Swiss’s brown eye, like constellations. “Probably threw you off that I’ve already been up here, huh?”  

“A little bit,” Ifrit agrees, his voice low as he plants a hand on the bed beside Swiss’s hip—he's so close to him, half leaning over him, “Doesn’t mean I’m any less interested though, if you’ll have me.”  

Swiss grins up at him, “I let you in here, didn’t I?” he asks, rhetorical, “I hope my experience isn’t off putting,” he murmurs then, tilting his head a little bit, lower lip brushing the curve of Ifrit’s in the barest hint of a kiss, “I can pretend to not know what your intentions are, let you show me what it’s like if that’s a deal breaker.”  

Ifrit snorts in amusement at Swiss’s words, though the idea is enticing in a way, he shakes his head and brushes their lips together, finally, properly. “We can compare notes,” he mumbles, “Can I see your feathers now?” he asks, ignoring the way his voice goes a bit airy towards the end, like he’s whining.  

A hum and Swiss’s hand comes up to the back of Ifrit’s neck, finally drawing him into something more than just a brush of lips—he's a little rough with it, a little bit overeager in the same way that Ifrit feels; sharp teeth catch on his lower lip for a moment before Ifrit’s opening his mouth, Swiss’s scent spiking up sharply as their tongues brush. 

The hand on the back of his neck squeezes and it draws a sharp moan from Ifrit, Swiss easily swallowing the noise as the kiss continues, as it deepens further—and it’s different, bedding a freshly summoned ghoul who knows what they’re doing, still smelling of brimstone and ozone, still so in tune with their own instincts without the interference of humanity.  

The kiss breaks and Ifrit’s immediately assaulted with the feeling of Swiss’s mouth on his jaw, down his throat, teeth sharp and dangerous against the delicate skin—the rush of it all makes Ifrit lightheaded. Swiss could easily incapacitate him if he wanted to, and Ifrit wouldn’t even try to stop him.  

“What are you thinking about?” Swiss mumbles, dragging the sharp point of his canine over where Ifrit’s pulse is beating heavily.  

Ifrit swallows thickly, eyes fluttering closed as he tilts his head back, bares his throat more, revels in the low, approving purr that comes from Swiss, “Thinking about you biting me,” he answers easily, breath hitching when Swiss fits his teeth against his throat, just pressing them there. “Shit, yeah, just like that.” he says, feeling nearly faint.  

There’s a rumble of a laugh and Swiss’s teeth press inward; the shock of pain draws a moan from Ifrit—he feels shaky and loose, grabs at Swiss’s shoulder with one hand to keep himself centered, “That’s it, pretty bird,” he slurs, shivers when Swiss pulls away and drags the flat of his tongue over the indentions left by his teeth. “Fuck.”  

“Who knew all I needed to do was get you in my bed for you to actually be normal around me,” Swiss mumbles, amused, and then he’s nudging Ifrit back onto his knees properly, so Ifrit’s kneeling in front of him on the bed. “It was cute watching you try to be careful though, all while smelling like you wanted to jump me.”  

Ifrit groans, brings both hands up to cover his face, “Can we not talk about that, I’m here, aren’t I?” he asks, his voice going whiny again, and Swiss takes pity on him, prying his hands away from his face to kiss him again.  

Somehow, at some point, they end up horizontal on the bed, side by side for now, sharing kisses, open mouthed and messy—Ifrit’s fingers find the shock of lavender feathers above the waistband of Swiss’s sweats, and he whimpers into the kiss as he drags his knuckles over them, the soft and downy feeling making him feel as if he’s going to burst.  

There’s a laugh, the sound pouring into his mouth right before Swiss pulls away from the kiss, pressing a closed mouth kiss against his lower lip, “You want to see more?” he asks softly, biting at his jaw again, “Wanna feel more?”  

Ifrit whimpers again and lets Swiss shove a leg between his thigh, giving him something to grind the hard line of his cock against, “Please,” he mumbles, begs as his other hand claws at the waistband of Swiss’s pants, “Let me see.”  

“You’re so hot when you’re like this,” Swiss says reverently, shifting forward to press Ifrit back into the bed, hovering over him, “Begging to get in my pants,” he coos, head tilted as he smiles down at Ifrit, “Never had some beg like this, for me,” he adds and then he’s pulling the cropped shirt off, tossing it aside, allowing Ifrit a moment to feel along the hard planes of his chest, his stomach, fingers immediately going back to his happy trail. 

He laughs then, “Oh baby, I think you’ve got a thing for my feathers,” he says, sitting back properly so he can shove his sweatpants down—there's nothing under them and Ifrit’s mouth waters as more skin, more feathers are revealed; they’re a little darker the further down they go, a bit curled and damp with Swiss’s arousal.  

Ifrit makes a punched-out sort of noise, hands grasping at Swiss’s hips in desperation—he wants to taste him, wants to get his mouth on Swiss’s cunt, bury himself there until he can’t breathe. 

“Can’t say I’ve ever made anyone speechless,” Swiss jokes, shifting around atop Ifrit until he’s able to properly kick off his sweatpants, laughing again when he’s suddenly being pulled forward until his thighs are spread wide over the width of Ifrit’s chest. “See something you like?” he asks, humming a little when Ifrit digs his fingers into the meat of his lower back, a clear sign of restraint.  

“These your feathers?” Ifrit asks, the words sticking heavily to his tongue as he lets go of Swiss’s hips and presses his thumbs into the patch of feathers framing his cunt, “You lure all the ghouls you sleep with into bed by flashing them?” 

Swiss shudders above him and Ifrit can feel the way his muscles move just under his skin, how they jump at the touch, the feathers ruffling, “Nope,” he says, his voice surprisingly steady, “You’re the first I’ve met that’s wanted them out.”  

Something about that makes something inside Ifrit preen, a first—and yeah, okay, he may like being the first at things sometimes, but even the knowledge that Swiss has slept with others in the past does nothing to quell his thoughts.  

Ifrit takes a moment to peer up at Swiss, his thumbs still carefully massaging into the feathers—Swiss is watching him with heavy eyes, the black of his pupil thin slits among the color of his irises before they expand and Swiss blinks down at him slowly, rolls his hips forward, trying to encourage more.  

Ifrit licks his lips and watches as Swiss’s eyes drop to his mouth, digging his knees into the bed for leverage as he rocks forward again, and Ifrit lets his thumbs inch closer to his core, where he can see the barest hint of dark pink nestled among the feathers.  

He lets out a sound, something incredulous, pressing a thumb inward and feeling as if Swiss himself had taken the air from his lungs, wanting nothing more than to fit his mouth over that pink nub, drink from him until Swiss is shaking and begging for it.  

When Swiss shifts his hips backwards, Ifrit curls his thumb into the soft, silky skin of his cunt, spreading his lips just enough to make his own want surge—he's so pink, he’s so pretty and Satan, he must say that out loud because Swiss makes a noise, jerks forward until Ifrit’s thumb slides right up into his clit, warm and wet and pulsing.  

There’s a flush on Swiss’s cheeks, a constellation of dusky pink and gold, coloring down his throat, towards his chest, his mouth is open, he’s panting, grinding his hips forward in a tight circle, all but manipulating his clit against the pad of Ifrit’s thumb.  

The color of his eyes swallowed up by the black of his pupils.  

“Up here,” Ifrit manages to get out, grips at one of Swiss’s thighs while pressing his thumb harder against Swiss, “Up, sit on my face,” he gets out, letting loose a tortured noise when Swiss scrambles further up, thighs bracketing right around Ifrit’s head as he settles down there.  

Swiss’s scent is thicker here, Ifrit’s nose pressed into the tuft of feathers right above his cunt—he takes a moment to breathe him in, grips both of Swiss’s thighs and pulls him down, and sure he’s eaten others out before, knows he’s got skills, an oral thing he’d been told by past partners, but he’s never had someone on his face with feathers.  

It’s not much different to the coarse hair, the scales or the other ghoulish traits he’s had previous experience with, but it makes him feel heady in a way that he can’t describe, the gentle tickle of feathers against his cheeks as he nudges Swiss’s lips apart, licking into him eagerly. 

Swiss’s hands immediately come to rest in his hair, one gripping the short strands tightly while the other cradles the side of his head; he’s moaning, a low and happy sort of thing as he grinds down onto Ifrit’s tongue, thighs spasming.  

Ifrit makes a noise, shifts his head so his nose nudges against Swiss’s clit, licks deeper into him wondering if this will be the first time Swiss has gotten off since being summoned this time; it’s always easy and quick the first time, getting someone to the edge, that is. The rearranging of their genetic makeup to exist on the surface doing something to them.  

It’s why he’s always keen to get a new summon in bed, to bring them to the edge over and over, a pleasant welcome to the surface.  

He wiggles a hand in between their bodies for a moment, uses his thumb to hold Swiss open as he works his jaw, presses his tongue in as far as he can get it—in times like these, he wishes he were the type of fire ghoul who could lengthen his tongue, he’s not though, but he manages; using his grip on Swiss’s thigh to hold the ghoul down against him.  

Swiss makes a noise in outrage, trying to break Ifrit’s hold on him, wanting to move, but Ifrit just holds him still, keeps him there as he takes his fill, and then he’s shifting his touch from holding Swiss open to drawing slow circles around his clit, his tongue doing something inside Swiss that has his thighs shaking around Ifrit’s head.  

And Swiss comes, of course he does, he can’t help it—can't help the way he tightens his grip on Ifrit’s hair and tries to drag his face closer, closer, closer (even though he’s as close as he can be without being inside Swiss), Ifrit’s name falls from his lips as he pulses through his orgasm, gasping almost painfully as Ifrit keeps licking and licking and licking at him until he’s shaking, coming again so suddenly that he makes a wounded noise and tries to shove Ifrit’s head away.  

Ifrit’s grip on his thigh loosens and Swiss shifts back and away from Ifrit, still shaking the slightest as he settles back onto the bed to catch his breath.  

Ifrit is, of course, grinning this satisfied sort of thing, the lower part of his face a mess of slick; his eyes are glowing as he looks at Swiss—and he’s hard in his pants, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by Swiss.  

“Insatiable,” Is the first thing he’s able to say once he’s caught his breath, splay-legged and lying beside Ifrit, “Absolutely disgusting.”  

Ifrit laughs at that and rolls onto his side, bullying his way close to Swiss, throwing an arm over his waist and nuzzling into his jaw, rubbing the scent of Swiss’s slick and Ifrit’s own pheromones into Swiss’s feathers, matting them down and making the two of them reek of each other. “Didn’t hear you complaining,” he murmurs, mouths at Swiss’s jaw for a moment before pulling back to look at him properly.  

Swiss turns his head, peering up at Ifrit with his mismatched eyes; watching him for a long moment before he smiles, something small and secretive, “Sounds like you’re fishing for a compliment,” he says, and then he’s reaching up, cupping the back of Ifrit’s neck with one of his hands—big and warm against his already overheated skin, dragging him down into a kiss that tastes like the two of them.  

Ifrit’s the one who separates them first, panting softly against Swiss’s mouth as he does it, “Not fishing,” he mumbles, presses another kiss to Swiss’s lips, “But I wouldn’t say no to a compliment if you have one.”  

“Of course,” Swiss says with a laugh, scratching his nails through the short hairs at the base of Ifrit’s neck, “You do have quite the mouth on you,” he adds after a moment, leaning in and biting at Ifrit’s lower lip, leaving behind the barest hint of teeth marks.  

A moan, low and pleased, both from the bite and the compliment, it’s praise to him, knowing he was able to satisfy Swiss with just his mouth does things to his brain, makes him feel a little floaty and happy, makes him want to do more and draw more praise from Swiss’s lips.  

Content to lie there while Swiss comes down, he nearly forgets about his own need until he feels Swiss’s hand tug at the buttons on his pants, “If you’re the type to not need reciprocation, let me know now,” Swiss is mumbling, “But I really want to touch you, been thinking about getting my hand around this from the beginning.”  

“Beginning?” Ifrit asks, shifting back so he can help Swiss get his pants undone and pushed down, “Shit, no, no, please, you can do whatever you want to my baby, I’m real easy.”  

Swiss hums softly, pleased and happy as he gets Ifrit almost fully nude, “Shirt goes too,” he says, shifting to push Ifrit onto his back again, hands pushing the material up until Ifrit’s able to get it off, “And yes, the beginning. Do you think I just show my feathers to anyone?” he asks, incredulously before he’s climbing into Ifrit’s lap, settling across his thighs. “You really are out of practice with how air ghouls show they’re interested, huh?”  

Ifrit feels a bit dumb as Swiss settles his weight down on him, he can feel the heat coming from Swiss’s cunt again, hovering so precariously close where he’s hard and curled up against his belly, “Oh,” he says, and then he laughs about it, because he can’t believe he’d been blind to it, the first flash of lavender, the suggestive tilt of his mouth, “Now I feel a bit silly,” he manages to say as his hands go to cradle Swiss’s hips.  

There’s a sly sort of grin on Swiss’s mouth, the corners curling upwards, the points of his teeth pressing into his lower lip as he presses his knees into the bed for leverage, moving from his perch on Ifrit’s thighs, “You are kind of dumb,” Swiss says as he settles his weight on Ifrit’s lower belly, cunt right over his cock, “But in that really endearing way. Chivalrous and concerned about my wellbeing all while denying yourself something you really wanted.”  

Ifrit gasps at the sudden weight on his belly, at Swiss’s heat right where he’s hard and sensitive, “Oh Satan,” he says, digging his fingertips into Swiss’s hips, “Yeah, fuck, baby, I’ll be as dumb as you want me to be if you keep doing what you’re about to do.”  

Swiss laughs at him, leaning down to kiss him quiet as he rocks his hips, slow and steady, reaching down between them long enough to spread himself, choking back his own moan when Ifrit’s cock slips right between his folds, hot and hard and right against his clit with each thrust forward.  

At some point, Ifrit pulls away from the kiss, tossing his head back as he holds Swiss down against him, digging his heels into the bed and letting himself get lost in the slick heat he’s grinding against—he almost misses it, when Swiss shifts a little bit more, bends over him properly and right against his ear, murmurs, “Wanna put it in me?”  

Ifrit moans, loud and unbidden, hips stuttering a bit as he tries not to come, he’s nodding trying to tug Swiss onto his cock, feels it slip down just a bit, nudging against where Swiss is wet and open and warm, and he makes a sort of pained noise when Swiss lifts up so suddenly and they’re not touching anymore.  

“Just the tip,” Swiss says, firm, there’s a teasing grin on his face as he says it, hovering over Ifrit, “Do you think you can do that? Only the tip baby, don’t think I can take the whole thing yet,” he lowers his voice, pitches it in a way that ties knots in Ifrit’s stomach. “S’my first time, after all.”  

He nods, several times, mouth open in shock—it's not Swiss’s first time, something that he’d made very clear from the beginning, but hell the implications of it, the way Swiss plays into it has Ifrit all frazzled, “Baby,” he says, managing to find his words after a moment, “I’ll take such good care of you. Let you control what you take, how much.”  

Swiss makes a happy little trill in the back of his throat, settles back down over Ifrit’s cock, rocks his hips in slow circles for a few moments, “You’ll have to teach me how to take all of you,” he murmurs, still in that faux innocent tone, and this time, when he lifts up, it’s so he can reach down between them, “’m so wet, I can take you without any prep,” he continues, wrapping a hand around Ifrit’s cock with one hand and Ifrit has to watch, eyes trained on the feathers, on the part of his cunt, the dusky pink of his hole as he shifts back on his heels, guiding Ifrit’s cock into him.  

Ifrit’s sure he passes out, his grip on Swiss’s hips so tight he’s pretty sure there’ll be bruises there, indents of his fingertips left behind, he’s only coherent enough to not let his claws pop, though he’s sure Swiss would have no problem with that—Swiss's cunt is so tight, so warm, squeezing around him like he’s trying to milk him, like he wants more.  

“Oh,” Swiss says, high and breathless, stills and just lets Ifrit stay inside, “You feel so good,” he praises, “So big, s’not that much in me but I can feel you stretching me, gonna take a lot of practice to get you all the way in here.”  

Ifrit finds himself purring, something he doesn’t do often, but the rumble starts low in his chest as he slowly but surely loosens his grip on Swiss’s hips, instead, running his palms up Swiss’s sides, “We’ve got time, baby,” he says, hoping his voice is steady, “Can take as long as we need. Can do it as many times as you want. Could spend hours stretching you out for me.”  

Swiss smiles down at him, shifts his hips a little bit after another few minutes, clenching around the tip before he grinds backwards, fucking himself on just a couple inches of Ifrit’s cock, moaning low and happily in his throat as he does, “You feel so good,” he finds himself repeating as Ifrit drags him down into a kiss.  

They kiss for a while, open mouthed and panting as Swiss works himself on Ifrit, almost as if he were trying to chase his own orgasm and not worry about Ifrit’s--and well, that thought does a lot more to him that he realizes, hazy and hot and cunt drunk as he is.  

It’s why when he feels himself nearing the edge, he’s barely able to get out a warning, the slide of Swiss’s cunt against his cock and then the way he sinks the tip into him every few thrusts—he doesn’t know the proper thing to do here, if he should make an effort to not come inside Swiss or if he should—how far does showing ones feathers go when it comes to sex?  

He’s thinking, probably way too much about this, so when Swiss sinks down onto the tip of his cock one more time, he’s surprised when Swiss just stays there, his own answering purrs much lower than Ifrit’s rumbling deep in his chest, he grinds a little, another inch slips into him and Swiss clenches around him so suddenly it draws his orgasm out of him with very little warning.  

Ifrit grasps at Swiss, only at the last second not pulling him down any further, so instead he curls his upper body upwards, pressing his face into Swiss’s heaving chest, shaking under him as he empties inside Swiss—all the while Swiss is milking him again, clenching rhythmically around him until Ifrit’s making soft little uh, uh, uh noises against Swiss’s skin, shivering at how it starts to tip over into the too much territory.  

When he slips out of Swiss, spent and softening, Ifrit barely thinks as he grabs at Swiss’s thighs and hauls him upwards, mouth open, tongue out, hoping to catch the leak of his own come out of Swiss’s cunt before any of it gets on the sheets under them.  

Swiss has a hand in his hair again and this time, Ifrit lets Swiss fuck down onto his face, riding his tongue, letting Ifrit lick his own come out of him until he’s arching, his own hand coming down to rub at his clit only a few times before he’s spasming around Ifrit’s tongue, coming in such an explosive manner than Ifrit’s sure he’s going to be tasting him for days now.  

Which, good.  

Good.  

Swiss slips off of him this time, curling on his side and pressing his face into the side of Ifrit’s neck, panting heavily as he does so—Ifrit wraps an arm around Swiss and holds him close, holding him through the aftershocks and murmuring softly into his temple.  

When Swiss is only mildly coherent, he lifts his head enough to share a kiss, moans at the taste of himself and Ifrit on the fire ghoul’s tongue, before he pulls away and hides away in Ifrit’s neck again—and while Ifrit wants to ask him if it was good again, the tease on the tip of his tongue, he holds back.  

He waits, patiently.  

“Disgusting,” Swiss mumbles into Ifrit’s neck this time, slurring just a little, “Absolutely filthy, disgusting ghoul. You should be ashamed of yourself.”  

Ifrit laughs at his words, can hear the undercurrent of humor, the hint of awe—it's a compliment and he takes it as one, rolling them until he can properly cuddle Swiss, letting his warmth seep into Swiss’s skin as the cold chill of the room starts to settle over them now that they’re basking.  

“That tongue thing you do should be illegal,” Swiss mumbles with a shake of his head. “I’m fucking inconsolable, right now.”  

Ifrit glances down at the top of Swiss’s head, quirks an eyebrow, “You okay?” he asks, a little hesitant, but mostly amused.  

When Swiss lifts his head, he looks exasperated, a little hazy eyed, sated, “You fuck, I want to go again,” he says, “I’m so fucking sloppy right now but I just want more.”  

That draws another laugh out of Ifrit, surprised and pleased that he’s good and makes Swiss feel insatiable, “Well, if you’re done being in charge, maybe let me take care of you this time?” he asks, rolling Swiss onto his back, looming over him with a glint in his eyes, “Let me make you feel good.”  

Swiss covers his eyes with his forearm, lets Ifrit bully his way between his legs properly until he’s got one of them up over Ifrit’s shoulder his cunt spread and exposed—but he’s grinning, biting his lower lip, “Fuck, yeah, yeah, okay, do your worst. Make me feel good, firebird.”  

Ifrit makes good on his word, keeps Swiss in bed for the rest of the day, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of him until they’re both too tired to continue.  

[unikron-kitten-kat]

after that i dont want. i need a part 2 >:) give us the goods!

Oh my Zalgo ITS DONE!! Ya'll wanted some part 2, and you shall receive!! One of my previous posts clears something up about [the reader] in this one, so you can find that if you end up getting confused about a certain something mentioned in here!

Slenderman x Male Reader, Smut this time!

Kinks may include: mpreg; tentacles; praise; nicknames: slender maybe calls you stuff like pet or little spiderling, or stuff like that; overstim;

No tws that I know of in here.. I dont think anyway... Now enjoy!!

His Dearest

Mine Nøw

It has been a while since you have become a Slenderbeing.

A long while.

You are now completely adapted to the warped time of the dimension your Boss keeps you all in, your internal clock warped when you transformed completely.

It was the next day, after your completion.

The others saw you.

And oh boy..

Were they jealous.

Envious..

Angry...

They despised you. They hated how you, a total outsider to them, ripped the spotlight off their stage, and held it over yourself.

But they knew how oblivious you were to it all. They knew. And they hated your.. Naivety. They hated the favoritism.

And don't get me started on the Big Boys, the.. The Proxies Slender favored before he brought you home. Before he introduced you to his other servants finally.

Toby, Masky, and Hoodie were slapped in the face the hardest. They no longer had the large favor they used to have with Slender, and Toby even got into serious trouble with Slender for messing with you.

But now that you were... Like that!?

God, being that close with Slender was only something any other Proxie could dream of now.

But, they don't know the full extent to your closeness. At least, the fondness Slender has for you, anyway.

You see, ever since you started... Blooming.. Really fitting into your new body.. He had slowly become infatuated with you. He slowly started to find you adorable.. Cute.. So naive... Fuckable... Breedable... His to have.. His.. To own.. His.. His...

And lo and behold, after being under his wing for the few decades you were, the universe finally let him have you..

In the form of the results of your receiving a piece of Slender's magic and powerful essence to grow more powerful with... In the form of a Slenderbeing Cadaver.

The perfect chance to finally make you his.

And he took it without hesitation.

If he didn't find you so cute as a tiny little human, he certainly found you cute and gorgeous now.

You are sitting on a log, fiddling with your magic, letting the sparking, ribbony lengths of sickly-green and gold wrap and twine between your fingers, even motioning for it to flow around the chest claws you had.

There was something about the colour that entranced you. Something was off about it. And, you very soon learned what it was. Your magic, green and gold as it was, had some semblance of His. There was a hint of a dark maroon that cracked and sliced through your magic.

You wonder if it had anything to do with the fact it was his magic that made you like this. That his magic gave you your own.

You inhaled sharply, startled, whipping your head to see it was only him who touched your tentacles.

Yours, unlike his, looked like long ropes of whispy cobweb, bundled up. They had your magic coursing through them as well, giving them a green and golden glow in some parts.

"Hello Little Spider.."

"H.. Hey.."

His hands were on your shoulder. Your face flushed, the dark green that was your blood now painted your face a different colour than a human.

He pressed his body against yours. His face rested in the crook of your neck.

Both sets of his arms wrapped around you, and he hummed in contentment. His tentacles wrapped around yours, some even trailing to your body, and wrapped around your thighs or chest.

His arms moved to lift you off the log, him then moving himself onto the log behind you, you now sitting in his lap.

His arms are back around you, holding you against him. He is warm. His arms and tentacles were trailing and rubbing their touch all over, not leaving an inch of you untouched. He wasn't applying any pressure either, just touching you. His touch still felt hot even through your clothes.

His hands, one pair, trailed down from your neck, to your abdomen, and they stopped. The rest didn't stop though. Just the one pair on your abdomen.

You let out an inquisitive whimper, looking down to his hands resting there.

"... Would be.." He paused, and moved his face to the back of your neck, "Would be endearing to see you..", his hands resting on your abdomen rubbed it in circles, "full.. Of my children..."

Your face lit up bright green, your eyes widening, your other eyes even opening in your shock at his statement.

"Wh.. What?"

"Wouldn't you like that, [Name]?"

"I-I-"

"You can't deny it, [Name]. I know.. What you dream about.. I know what makes you wake up wet in the pants.."

Your face might as well be a lamppost with how deeply coloured your face was now, the green glowing bright with the help of your magic, which seemed to.. Imitate your emotion with brightness and fluidity.

"I.. Could see what you dreamed of, you silly little thing. I saw what you thought of when you tried your hardest to keep those... Filthy thoughts to yourself."

You made a small noise, your body tensing with embarrassment at the realization his hands and tentacles were getting more.. Antsy.

The ones on your abdomen trailed down to rest on the inside of your thighs, rubbing the sensitive skin in circles very close to your crotch.

You hadn't realized that your hands, the four, had grabbed onto his arms, your embarrassment leading to quite a grip that human bones wouldn't be able to withstand.

"I mean.. Even if you weren't a Slenderbeing at this current time..", he trailed off, his upper hands slipping under your shirt and trailing up to rub and grope your pecs, his palms would rub over your nipples, "I would still be rewarding you for being such a good servant for me..."

His voice was right next to your ear, his mouth opening to nibble at your jaw.

You were trembling, and your crotch was throbbing, so was that spot on your neck that Slender licked with his tongue a while back. The feeling seemed to only ebb away when Slender got close to touching them.

This made you subconsciously move your throbbing areas against him, chasing his touch there.

His other hands and tentacles were getting more sensual with their touches, squeezing sensitive areas of your flesh, flitting over the ridges of your neck, ribs.. His fingers would ghost over your mouth, his tentacles wrapped around your limbs, opening your legs, and wrapping your arms behind you to pin them to your back.

One hand came up to grasp your chin, his fingers splaying slightly, and his palm gave enough force to push your head back, you now facing up.

The little whimper that scrimped past your trembling lips made Slender chuckle.

"You like this, [Name]? You like my hands on your body? My tentacles on your body?"

You let out a trembly affirming hum. He chuckled again, and he used to fingers to trail down your neck from your chin, and back up.

"Use your words, my pretty mate....." He whispered, his voice trailing off.

Your voice wavered as you spoke, "Y-yess... Mm.. I-I do like it..." Your voice trailed to a whisper.

His sensual touches continued. His hands would squeeze your arms, your chest, your thighs, and rub back up again, his fingers ghosting their touch along the lines your muscles made as his hands traveled. His tentacles resigned to holding you, their slimey cold touch moving as they pulsed and slithered against your skin in the places they held you.

Your pants were interrupted with trembly moans and gasps at his touch and the stimulation.

One of his hands groped your crotch, soon slipping into your pants, his palm rubbing against the wetting slits of the flaps covering your dick, your back arching and a gasp leaving your slightly drooling mouth at the touch.

His fingers rubbed at the slits to your flaps, another hand of his slipping your loose pants off your legs and down to your ankles easily.

Your hands, now held behind your back, tensed into fists with the new attention to your aching, pulsing wet.

Your dick was pressing against the flaps, making it easier for Slender to slid a finger in the middle of the four flaps, sliding them apart, trails of slick and pre covered his fingers and stretched between the flaps. Another hand came down to help his other seperate the flaps, all four now splayed, your throbbing dick out for him to see.

Slender pressed his palm to the base of all your tender flesh, a moan drawled out your mouth, his fingers wrapping around the base of your dick, gently squeezing the knot you now had, and another moan shook your throat.

He stroked you, up and down, your legs shaking, breath shuddering, body trembling. Your tentacles wavered, them finding his own arms and legs to weakly wrap around. Pre beaded at your tip, Slender's thumb rubbing over it to smear your dick with it.

Your back arched more, your shoulders pressing into Slenderman, his upper hands slid down to your hips, to rock you against his own excitement. You settled after he stroked you a few more times, trying to and failing to roll your hips against his touch to your dick.

He kissed your neck. Not where you needed him to though. He scraped his teeth against your skin, gently biting you. He nipped your jaw, trailing bigger bites down. He found sensitive areas you'd shiver at, and sucked them black and blue.

One of his lower hands traced the wet, tender flesh of your unhidden dick lower, to your begging tunnel. He kissed your neck hard, resting his face into your neck as your body arched in his lap again, a quick moan escaping your drooling mouth, his fingers dipping into your dripping hole. His fingers gently and slowly rubbed along your entrance, sliding in and out against your walls, a breathy chuckle came from him.

"You are doing so well [Name]. So good.. Keep being good and I'll give you a bigger reward~" He whispered into your ear.

He hummed at the following shudder that shook your body against him. Your cunt quivered around his fingers, you whimpering, squirming at his touch. Slender dragged the length of his fingers against your entrance, the tips dipping into you briefly. He brought his slick coated fingers to his mouth, where he tasted your essence.

"Mmm, you are tasty, [Name].."

You shuddered, exhaling.

Your clothes were feeling hot against your skin. You needed them off.

You were in quite the daze, so it took you a moment to register that Slender was pushing the both of you up into standing.

Once you both were though, he had to hold you against him. Your legs were wobbly. You weren't used to the increased stimulant of being touched places in this body.

It was the faint but sudden breeze that made you realized he had removed your coat. He was starting on your shirt then too.

He suddenly turned you around, and you were suddenly against a tree. He was removing his suit jacket now.

"Open."

It was your mouth he wanted open. And you opened it, exhaling slightly when you did.

The force of the kiss had you whimpering, his upper pair of hands roughly grabbed your wrists, a pair of tentacles grabbed your lower ones. His sudden roughness had you squirming in between him and the tree, your crotch was also unbelievably hot, and was leaking with slick and pre.

Your upper arms were held against the tree, level with your head, and your lower ones were "cuffed" with his tentacles behind your back, making it arch into him.

.

.

He was rough with you. He was grinding his leg in between yours, his pants getting wet with your excrement, he was hardly letting you breathe with the messy kisses with tongues.

Your squirming against him riled him up. Jeez, he can't restrain you enough can he?

He pulled away, finally letting you breath in short, moaning gasps.

You froze and shuddered, a low growl emanating from him. The sound only made you chitter weakly, a groan left your throat as he started trailing nibbles down your neck.

His tentacles were holding your thighs apart.

His mouth was resting on the spot that was oddly throbbing now. You were (trying) to push your neck up into his mouth.

Slender hummed.

He dragged the tip of his tongue along the achy spot, making you shudder and squirm. He pressed against you after hearing the whimpery moan you made.

His skin was smooth, and in your sex-numbed daze you saw prominent veins of magik pulsing with his magik colour along his arms and body.

You gasped as you felt him press against your weeping tunnel.

"You ready, [Name]?"

You whimpered an answer, shuddering at the huskiness of his voice.

You yelped as you were both suddenly down, on a floor, him on top of you, but you weren't able to process that much before his dick started sliding into you.

You were so wet he didn't need to stop until he was completely inside you.

His lower arms were holding your hips as your back arched, his upper ones each had both sets of yours in their grasp, still pinning you down.

He had finally bitten that spot of your neck that ached for it, it sent a pulse of something through you.

You gasped, and moaned sweetly as he started rocking slowly into you, pulling out till just his tip was hitched on your entrance and then pushing back in.

.

.

He had you pinned down to the carpet covered floor completely, still slowly thrusting into you, and kissing you roughly, his tongues playing with yours.

As his hips rocked against yours, his body rubbed against yours.

His kisses didn't waver in their passion, and he didn't neglect your 'mark', the specific spot of your neck he bit.

Your moans filled the room. His groans and quiet grunts were stiffled by them. Your cunt would squeeze him, blinding you with stars and filling you with pleasure, making your arch into him. His tentacles were stroking your dick in between your bodies.

The sounds of his dick slipping into you were wet.

"Fuck, [Name], your so tight... And wet... So warm too..."

You whined, his dick felt so large, even despite your new size compared to him. You thought it wouldn't feel as tight.

It was pulsing inside you, the ridges it had rubbed along your walls, making you shake and fat tears well up in your eyes.

He was thrusting very deep into you, you swear even being around his size and height he was filling you much more than you were supposed to handle. But you loved it. His dick was warm, and thick. And hard. Its ridges rubbed against your gummy walls whenever he moved inside you, making pleasure reverb through you.

Despite being pinned, you still squirmed, and pressing into him.

He had let go of your lower arms, the hands of which were tightly gripping his lower shoulders.

He was thrusting so deep. So so deep. You felt him squeeze his way further into you, you felt him in your tummy. It made that area of your body feel tight.

His teeth were marking any place he could bite down on; your shoulders, your collar, neck, nibbling on your jaw, your chest. Anywhere. The moans and sobs of pleasure eminating from you made him warm and riled. He was close to going feral on you.

The crotch tentacles you both had were wrapping around eachother and were trying to pulling your hips closer.

He thrust into a particular area that made moans get caught in your throat, and he didnt stop hitting it.

His rough but soft thrusts would drag his dick along that spot, making your legs turn to jelly, and the breath leave your lungs. The hot, pangy and painful pleasure the motion spazzed through your body made you go limp against him.

He hugged you to him as you arched into him again, his mouth next to your ear.

"You are doing.. So, so good [Name].."

He shuddered as your sopping cunt squeezed him. His tentacles squeezed your dick when it pulsed in their grasp.

Your moans wavered, his hand grabbed your head.

"That's it [Name], be a good little spider. Be a good little spider and spill. Come on, little spider.. Cum for me.."

His deep and gruff words sent you ober the edge, your moans loud, his tentacles pumping you even as you came all over the both of you. His tentacles slithered in spirals around your dick, moving as they climbed and sank, one rubbing over your slit as cum continued spilling from it.

You felt your cunt was quivering, and he laid you completely down to the ground again, hugging you still, as he sped up his thrusts, bringing quick and loud moans out of you.

Your cunt clamped around him as you spilled there too, your claws scratching at his back you came around his cock, and your loud, wanton moans echoed in the room a bit. The pressure from how tightly you were squeezing him made your vision darken and stars appear.

He didn't stop thrusting into you, however. In fact, he did quite the opposite, thrusting harder into you, his dick roughly rubbing along your sweet spot now, the ridges pulling small squeals of pleasure from you.

Two pairs of large tentacles messaged your chest muscles, and smaller tentacles slithered along your body and found ares to suction to to leave dark bruises on your now moon-pale skin.

The hands Slenderman didn't have occupied with keeping you pinned were used to slide and rub across your body, squeezing other sensitive areas.

Your moans quivered and wavered, and your lungs desperate for air, pulling even more desperate pants out of you, and yet he wasn't letting up. You tried to find words to plead for less, to beg him to go easier on you, it was too much, but your voice couldn't muster the words, nonetheless form them in your head.

Drool and tears were ebbing from your mouth and eyes, your eyes were heavy and lidded with the pleasure, your upper ones closed because you were beginning to grow tired and exhausted from how much at once your body was experiencing.

Slender could tell you were getting tired. Your grip on him was softening, your body was practically going limp beneath him, your voice was wavering and stuttering, your pretty song was fading.

The slick and sloppy sounds his dick made as it slid in and out of your soaking cunt were now loud with the added slick from your orgasm, making a mess.

Your dick was beginning to hurt, it was being overstimulated beyond belief. Your hadn't made yourself cum more than once at a time before.

You choked as you felt a second pair of orgasms building inside you, the feeling spreading warmth and making you exhale shakily.

You whimpered feeling him drill into you as hard as he could. He was looming over you, no longer needing to pin you down himself anymore.

He chuckled, the sound making you lazily look at him.

"You look so cute like this [Name].. Had I known you would look so good, I'd have done this to you at least once while you were still human..."

You couldn't react to his statement as the orgasms that were building finally released. Your back weakily arching as both your throbbing dick and swollen pussy released cum at once, your jelly legs weakily moved too, and your upper hands were grabbed by his as they closed from the immense wave of pleasure that shook your body.

When you body went limp again from the end of it, he was still going. Your hands weakily closed around his.

You sobbed as your dick was painfully brought back to life from Slender's tentacles, and your tired pussy was also pushed beyond its limits.

Your body was loosing its strength seemingly. The orgasms came much quicker, a third already sneaking up on you, and your loud wanton moans were reduced to whimpers and whines.

You whimpered loudly as you felt the third orgasm.

"Don't worry, [Name], we'll have.. a nice hot bath when we're done here.." His words were interrupted with his quiet grunts.

It didn't take long for a third set of orgasms to shake your body, tears spilled from your eyes, and drool from your mouth as you let out weak little moans.

It was now you were feeling his movements become sloppy. His lower hands softly grabbed your thighs and folded your legs, giving himself a much better angle to fill you.

But this new angle had him reaching deeper into you, somehow. You looked, a shuddery gasp escaping you as you saw the small but noticeable bulge that showed. Your dick was red, and painfully throbbing.

You let out a pained moan as a fourth pair of orgasms slienced you, your meak moans getting caught up in your throat.

Even more so when you felt the sudden hot spread up into you. You shuddered, whining with pleasure.

He was still inside you, his knot inside you as well.

He was beathing deeply, you were panting.

He thrust slow and gentle a few times, to lessen the mess.

You squirmed, gasping and whining at a bigger lump forcing its way into you.

"Shhhh, it's okay [Name]."

Slender held you cheek.

"It's just my eggs~"

You let out a meak whimpery moan as the lump slid all the way into you, down to where his tip was in you, right up against your.. Ah.. Uterus? Did you have one of those if you had a pussy? Yes. You do have one, and Slender was filling it.

"Fuck, you look so cute all fucked out like this... We should do this more often [Name]."

Your body felt numb, and limp. It felt so warm to, the hot from Slenderman's seed spread through you.

It took a moment before he was done. He had trouble pulling out though. You were very tight now, something all Slenderbeings did when they got their fill. It was a way to keep it all inside.

He pulled out, finally, your cunt actually closing up. He pulled you down, level with him.

He was gentle in pulling you up. And slow.

Your legs were completely jelly. You couldn't even stand with them.

He picked you up though. Bridal style.

"Looks like someone's too tired for a bath..."

You were pretty much asleep in his arms.

You inquisitively whimpered feeling warmth cover you.

You felt him cuddle up with you. Ah, you were in a bed, under some blankets.

"Sleep well, [Name]... I love you, my pretty mate.."

One of his hands stroked your cheek.

"L...love you too..."

You fell asleep in his arms, wrapped up in eachother.

[tmnt-splashshock]

“You’ve never meet teens like these!”

Welcome to my little passion project, TMNT: SplashShock!! In this iteration of these classic turtles we all know and love, the world is bright, exciting and colorful! But what happens when a dark man arrives on the scene to spread his evil plan across the globe, starting with Neo York City?

Find out soon, in TMNT: SplashShock!

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