#alastair fic

[noirscript]

mine, oh mine

pairing/s: yandere!sugar daddy x f!stripper reader | warning/s: NONCON. oversimulation. illegal detention. dead dove: do not eat. MINORS DNI | src

You should've known better.

Alastair, the man who pulled you out of the rat race with his merciful proposal, would never have summoned you urgently for no reason.

You should've realized that something was amiss as soon as you start putting on an attire that he finds disgusting. That you wouldn't just perform in front of him like usual.

"I-It... It was just one dance. One... just one! I swear!" You cried, pleading with your sorrowful eyes, as he attached the metal cuffs to the chain attached to the wall. "I'm sorry... please... please don't do this..."

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you to look up at him. "I've been tried to save you. To keep you out of that filthy gutter. But you kept on coming back," he said through his teeth.

"Al—"

Your skin stung and ear began to ring as soon as a hard slap landed on your right cheek.

"You wanted to be treated like a slut? So be it!"

He took one of your nipples in his mouth, nibbling it while roughly pinching and kneading the other.

You tried to get away by grabbing the metal chain above your head, but he immediately caught on and placed his hands on your hips.

"Do that again. I dare you."

You pleaded while trying to keep his tongue away from your overstimulated core, but he simply pushed your legs against your chest. Savoring your juices like a madman.

"M's...rry..." you slurred while looking at the painting hanging on the wall. Something you've never seen before. "No... more... no more..."

"Why?" he asked before chuckling. "Can you even do something about your situation?"

A sharp gasp came from your lips as soon as his girthy cock slid into your abused hole.

The sound of chain and the creaking of the bed created a deranged symphony—one that Alastair would listen to over and over.

Your sense of time became non-existent as he made you understand who owns you. Only when he became exhausted did Alastair stopped.

You tried to wiggle away, but one firm grip kept you in place. Followed by a swift thrust from him.

"Stay still."

"Let me... go..."

Alastair chuckled before whispering into your ear. "And where will you even go?"

He grab your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. "This is your home now."

Note: It's my birthday on Tuesday. I'll finalize the mini-event we'll do on that day. Commissions are open. Requests are also open (might take time due to irl work).

[angelsdean]

THE RESURRECTION OF DEAN WINCHESTER

Another body was placed before him on the rack. A fresh one. Soul unbroken. They wept, dripping light onto the blood-soaked dungeon floor.

The knife in his hand stung, hellfire shot down his throat, turned his insides to ash. He could not speak, had not spoken in a decade. Not since he finally uttered that broken, "Yes."

A clammy hand slithered over his shoulder. Hot, putrid breath against his cheek.

"Go on, boy. Make me proud."

He lifted his knife. His caged heart sobbed. Rattled. Squeezed itself, vice-like.

It beat outside his body. Or, his chest had been gouged open long ago. A gory window in, putting it right there for all to see. Alastair just laughed. He loved this part. Seeing Dean tear himself in two.

"What's the matter, Dean?" he cooed, pressing up close. "You know you love it." Alastair lifted Dean's chin with a finger. "Got a freshie, just for you. They always scream so pretty, no?"

Dean shuttered his eyes. It did nothing to change the scene. Please, he cried, inside. Please, end this torture. Someone, please.

He'd been begging for an eternity. Salvation never came. Still, he prayed, small and childlike. Four years old, asking for his mother. Forty years in Hell, asking for this fire to stop burning.

"Do you need me to break you a little?" Alastair continued in that same false sweetness. "Will that get you going?" His hands were all over. More hands growing and groping. Dean shook as knives were plunged into him. Twisting hooks. Two hands 'round his neck. One finger probing at his caged heart.

Dean sobbed, screamed out. His own light leaked onto the floor, out of the dark void that had come to mask his soul.

He couldn't hurt another soul. He couldn't stand it. He let the knife fall. Clattering like a thunderclap. Light continued to spill out, filling the room. Alastair increased his onslaught, displeased by Dean's disobedience.

"I will put you back on the rack," he roared. "I will take you apart piece by piece. You will never be whole again. Deep down. You know it. You are rotten to the core." His hand shot through Dean's guts, scooping him clean, leaving him empty.

A ringing filled his ears. Dean couldn't hear himself anymore. Even Alastair's voice faded away. The room continued to fill with light. Different now. Blue-white mingling with the gold of Dean's soul.

Opening his eyes against the brilliance he caught glimpses of massive wings and shifting heads, changing colors and claws. Millions of eyes looked at him. Dean shut his own eyes once more, and the image he'd seen fizzled away, incomprehensible to his mind.

Then the being gripped him. His shoulder burned at the point of contact, but it was a pleasant burn.

The searing sensation zipped through him. Warm and cool all at once. The cage around his heart fell away.

He was pulled upwards, like a fish on a hook, shooting through the water up towards the light.

For the first time in forty years, he felt no pain. Breaking the surface, he drank his first breath from the being that enveloped him.

Then, deep and clear as a bell, a voice proclaimed: DEAN WINCHESTER IS SAVED.

➥ supernatural september prompts: rotten, reanimated, between heaven and hell, trueform

[edwinspaynes]

Alastair: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

Thomas: I wrote you a poem.

Alastair, already crying: You did?

[cookie-crumblr]

AU’s With Alastair~

Animal hybrid AU

Part 1

!!MINORS DNI!!

CW: F! reader/reader has a vagina, NSFW, reader and allie are owned by a human, treated like animals, heat, non human genitalia(he has a barbed cock), lactation kink, loss of consciousness, breeding kink, creampie, biting,

!!MINORS DNI!!

You were born to a cute cow lady, and Alastair to a gorgeous feline. It all seemed completely meant to be, as you came to be at the same time.

At least he saw it that way.

You and him grew up always by each others sides’ on a farm in the countryside, far away from anything else.

His mom abandoned him with his little sister and brother, which you don’t think is uncommon for cat folk.

But you bet it would be hard for anyone, let alone a small child that now has to care for two other children with only himself.

You are both older now.

Once your respective cycles started, you had to start taking short breaks from each other.

And now you’re old enough to “work” on the farm like the other hucow ladies…

“Alright girl, you’ll have to settle with a bull eventually,” The farmer spoke a little agitatedly or maybe just tiredly, either way your heart wracked intensely with guilt.

Today had felt so painfully long.

The farmer brought bull hybrids in from all across the country to court you…

Your big eyes stay downcast, wetness clumping your pretty lashes. “I know… ‘m sorry sir, I jus’… Don’t love any of them proper.”

The farmer lets out a long sigh, “Get some rest, Y/N”

Neither you nor the farmer were aware of Alastair watching from the second story window of the bright red barn.

“That stupid farmer.” His ear flicks irritatedly as he thinks. “only caring about production, and not for Y/N at all…” His fists ball while burning holes into the side of the farmer’s head with his stare. “Why’s it gotta be a bull anyway?” He wonders.

Has a hybrid of another species been able to impregnate another hybrid before?

He’s absolutely sure it’s possible.

If not, he’ll make it possible.

Besides, nobody loves you more than he does.

A breeze passes through your hair, and flows all the way up to Allie. Ears now perked up and swiveled all the way toward you, he can smell your heat coming.

That’s probably why the farmer is in such a rush to get you mated.

Alastair has always stayed away from you while you both were on your cycles, for fear of ruining what you have together.

This time he can’t.

Tomorrow he’ll stay with you.

Another evening comes and Alastair finds you whining and writhing in your stable, you’re clearly burning up and desperate.

Face shining with sweat, with barely any clothes on, and the fabric that does try and cover you, is instead stuck to your skin, showing him your peaked nipples and your puffy, glistening lips through it.

He stops in his tracks, mouth agape, his tiny fangs peaking out from behind his lips.

He doesn’t really know what he was expecting.

But god, it wasn’t this…

He thought he was ready.

His shorts are feeling uncomfortably tighter.

You notice him as he swallows.

“Allie! uhm….” You start to cover up with a jean jacket, and he rushes over to you.

“Y/N, it’s… *ahem*… It’s okay! I’m actually here to help!”

“Allie…” Tears stain your cheeks. You get on your knees and present to him, “Then… Please, help me.”

A harsh swallow bobs his addams apple, making his choker shift.

He’s ready.

He takes his claws to your shorts and rips right through them, the freedom, and chill of the air sends shivers through your body.

He untied the silk ribbon he uses as a belt, and undid his shorts.

Next his crochet sweater was discarded to the hay covered ground.

“Wait, Y/N… I-wanttofaceyou…”

You oblige, thinking he’s adorable, and roll over, legs spread, inviting him in.

You’re breathing heavily.

He lifts your top exposing your chest.

Then he leans down to literally kitten lick your nipple, and gently flicks the other one, taking turns for both without leaving the other.

The effect is maddening.

You’re whimpering and throwing your head this way and that. Little “pleases” and “oh my goodnesses” falling from your part lips.

He smiles at this, getting the exact reactions he’s always imagined from you. His perfect beloved.

Dick now taken in his hand, he slaps your puffy cunt, before rubbing it down.

Something kind of stings as he drags down, but it’s so hot and hard it feels like everything you need right now.

“Please, Alastair… I want you inside me… I… really do love you.” You say desperation, and truth seeping from your words.

He almost breaks hearing those four words at the end, but he sets that aside for after, when he can just cuddle you. And tell you how much he’s always loved you.

His tip slides into your desperately wet hole, opening you further.

“Ahhh” You shudder as you begin to feel that which your body craves.

He slowly bottoms out, and stays there, feeling you pulse around him. His head becoming light.

He has to move.

He pulls out quick to snap him back in control of himself.

“AHHH!” You barely make out the scream as your own voice as you black out in an instant. Sharp pain and harsh, hot pleasure zapping through your insides at the same time as if a lightning bolt came down and smited you.

“Y/N! Y/N! Oh no, oh fuck, oh god” Alastair babbles as he accidentally slides back into you, to meet his face to yours.

He cradles you, his body smaller than yours, but he’s always been way stronger than he appears.

“Y/N…”

You come to only seconds later, your body burning hotter than before, you gasp, and pant.

“Allie? what… happened…”

“I didn’t think….” he’s crying into your neck. “I-I… I’m so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t of-”

“It felt so good…”

“What?” His cheeks reddened. “I mean, are you sure?”

Ending his thought you brought his face down to yours for a kiss. He rocked deeper into you In response.

You felt that familiar drag, as he rocked back slightly, before jamming himself in all the way.

“You like that? You want me to plow into you?” His demeanor completely changed in a split second. “Say Squishmallow if you want me to stop.” He leans in to whisper, and then kisses your neck.

You nod enthusiastically.

His hand finds your tit, when he looks down suddenly. “Wait, Y/N! Look! You really don’t need a bull!” he holds his now wet hand up.

You shift to look down and sure enough you’re lactating!

He hurries to shove one in his mouth and begins to suck, and lick as he paws at the fatty part. This is your first time being milked, and it’s your best friend!

It feels heavenly.

his tongue doing laps around you.

You cry out, “Alastair!” followed by a series of “Oh”’s

He starts pushing as deep as he can go into you.

He pulls out slow this time, as he does the pleasure mixes with pain and you feel yourself producing more and more milk, it’s building up so fast in the one he’s neglecting.

“Please! hah! swap!” You moan exasperated.

He releases with a hearty *pop!* And quickly switches to your other breast, not leaving the other one defenseless this time, he squeezes and rubs circles around your nipple.

“Your milk tastes so good, Y/N, this farm is so lucky!” his eyes are clouded over now with lust.

He’s all the way out of you again, and he slams back in with all of his might causing you to bounce.

“Ahh!” You’re almost shaking it feels so good! “M-More!” you moan.

He obliges and pulls out not as slow, but still slow enough you don’t pass out again. Then he sets the pace for the session.

Slamming into you over and over again, your legs and hips folding more and more each time so he can get impossibly deeper.

He’s purring now, vibrating your sensitive buds as he alternates and sucks on each one, never leaving either unattended.

His skin is slamming against yours, and you swear at this point you feel him hitting your cervix.

You need his cum so badly, your body burns with this sole desire as you’re becoming so overstimulated.

You’re sure you’re babbling nonsense at this point but he continues to pound you as if he has no other purpose but to breed you right here, right now.

“Are you close?”

“Yesh,” you let out a breathy slur, mind hazy and floating with the stars above.

He pounds impossibly harder, rocking your bodies into the wooden wall of the stable.

You hold on for dear life as you come undone around his cock.

Seconds later with one final thrust and he’s shooting thick, hot ropes into you. You feel so full and your temperature starts to decrease back to normal instantly.

You squeeze him, as he lets go of your chest with another satisfied *pop*

“I love you, Allie…”

“I love you too, Y/N, so freaking much.”

He stays inside you as he readjusts to cuddle on top of you, limbs tangled, and both of you breathing heavily.

A little too soon later and the farmer is walking in, he doesn’t give you even a chance to hide Alastair, before spying you both.

“What is this?!”

“Sorry sir!” You sit up, tipping Allie off of you

“Woah!” He exclaims, as he slips, sliding out of you, his cum leaking onto the floor.

“AH!” You squeal from his exit, as milk sprays from your still engorged tits.

The farmer’s eyes widen, “Well… I can’t really complain with this outcome.” He takes his hat off to scratch his balding head. “Well Alastair, looks like you officially work for me now, specifically with Y/N.” he turns to leave mumbling, “if it works, it works i guess… How come i ain’t never thought of cat folk?”

You both giggle, before your temp starts to rise again.

“Allie! Help?”

“Yes, ma’am!” he folds you over yourself again, and slips in easier this time.

“Oh, you’re perfectly prepped from last round… Remember the safe word?”

“mmhmm!”

This time he bends over to your neck and bites you as he pulls out. It hurts in both places, but it feels so good, like an electric shock going straight through your body to your core.

He’s back to purring loudly as he starts to slam back into your abused and throbbing pussy.

You both come quicker this time, your moans and his mewls becoming one mini orchestra to your fuzzy ears.

His tail swishing with his motions, and yours sticking straight out, as tensed as your curled toes.

You feel his hot cum filling you up for the second time, you can tell it’s even more this time, and your own orgasm milks him for everything he’s worth.

This time after, you both drift off into a comfortable sleep, while holding eachother close as possible.

When you wake again, you’ll still have eachother, and you’ll be together for whatever comes next…

[agnes-draws]

a little birthday present i did a while ago for the wonderful @vwritesaus 💖 it's a scene from her beautiful fic (i'm begging you all to go read it if you haven't yet. it's a masterpiece.)

[vwritesaus]

It is no secret to anyone who knows him that Alastair Carstairs is an exceptional cook. Armed with the knowledge passed down from his mother and Risa, he felt it was his duty to keep the Persian traditions alive in their family, and the only way he felt comfortable doing it was through cooking. It was his escape when the piano keys felt slimy and sticky under his fingertips, and when his thumb and index fingers slowly became more and more smudged with ink stains from the mundane newspapers. Cordelia was the taste tester every time, no matter how burnt or salty or under seasoned his food was. He could trust her to give him an honest critique—and she always did, without preamble.       ‘Dadash, did you empty the entire Dead Sea into this? My tongue is burning.’       ‘Oh, this is better than last time! Just needs more chilli, it’s a bit on the mild side.’       ‘Alastair, this is extremely chewy. It’s meant to be softer, no?’       Though he would roll his eyes and pretend to be offended by every one of his sister’s comments, Alastair was glad for it all. It was their little pocket of solidarity in an otherwise distant relationship. Alastair’s own doing, of course, but he felt it necessary at the time.       He was four years old when he first showed an interest, according to Sona. By eleven, Alastair was comfortable enough to cook a couple of simple dishes without any help. By fifteen, he was a self-proclaimed master. Yes, he made mistakes sometimes—as all good cooks do—but he knew his way around a kitchen, just as Cordelia knew her way around Cortana. Naturally it was something he kept to himself: if he had disclosed to any of the boys who bullied him at the Shadowhunter Academy that he, a male, loved and knew how to cook, and was taught how to by the women in his life, it would have given them yet another few reasons to belittle and assault him.       Being his father’s son and a boy with darker skin was already too many reasons. So Alastair kept his passion quiet, known only to his mother, his sister, and Risa. He’s sure Elias never knew, for if he had, Alastair is certain he would have put a stop to it somehow. All it took was one remark to have Alastair give up and push it down. His love for piano and singing, for instance.       But Alastair and Cordelia made it a regular occurrence to take over the kitchen and get under Risa’s feet, in her words. He cherishes those memories, where flour would coat the front of his waistcoat and parts of Cordelia’s hair, and the fragrant aroma of cinnamon, cardamom and clove would fill the entire room alongside their laughter. They were just some of the good things he held onto whilst at the Academy.       But the Academy days are no more, and Elias’s domineering presence has fizzled out through fire and ash. Alastair is free to do whatever he wants to do and be whoever he wants to be, and cooking is only a part of it.

continue reading on ao3

~

well well, it has been a long time, hasn't it??

but here i am, back for good hopefully!! and with a wee fic i wrote for my bestest girl @drunkonimagination for her birthday back in july ✨ it's based on one of our first interactions together before we hit the dms and the hill i will die on that is alastair carstairs is great at cooking but a terrible baker. only just got around it posting it jkahdjasd. hope you all enjoy it, and i'll be back with some more fics soon!!

also pls ignore the title, it's the best thing i could come up with :')

~

tagging people who might be interested: @edwinspaynes @purplebass @angeldaisies @faithfromanewperspective @tessherongraystairs @celias

let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list!!

[anassemblageofpassions]

The preoccupation of dean stans with turning John into this monstrous man preoccupied with abusing solely dean is fascinating because. If you want a non-complex person solely focused on torturing Dean. We literally have Alastair. You don’t need to focus on making john into someone he isnt. why is no one writing about alastair 😭

[ashpkat]

after months… i finally get it. i finally get alastine. i finally UNDERSTAND

[gh0stsp1d3r]

𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

a/n- this is gonna be a mini series, this is just the first part!! This is pre!hatbox Alastair, but there will be hatbox!alastair in the next one :3

Warnings- mentions of abuse, this is long, maybe ooc? Not a lot to work with for him but I love him 😭

“Alastair!” You yelled when he had started to walk away from the house, his cuts and bruises scattered along his face.

He turned around at the sound of your voice, waiting for you to catch up.

He mumbled your name when you did. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to ask-“ you started, but stopped when you noticed his beat up face. You furrowed your eyebrows, he just continued to walk and you walked beside him, matching his pace.

“What happened back there? Are you okay?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” He lied.

Everything in him wanted to scream at you for not noticing.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.”

“Well you have to be going somewhere-“ you said, a little confused.

“Please- just- go back home.” He said, turning to you again and walking faster.

You stopped in your tracks for a moment, hurt slightly by his words.

Then you caught back up.

“Alastair.” You said his name, softly this time.

He didn’t answer, just continuing to walk.

“Alastair. Did something happen again- with your dad?”

That was when he looked the opposite way, tears in his eyes.

“You could’ve told me.” You mumbled quietly, he turned to face you again, the salty tears now running down his face.

You’ve always been there for him, ever since you both were around 6 or 7, you’ve always been there. And you both were 13 now, and he was running away, with no place actually in mind.

So that’s how you both started to travel the world, him having his plans for revenge.

Although you didn’t quite agree with it, you’ve seen the abuse and mistreatment he endured. You understood it, but tried to get him to do other things.

At this point, you both had kissed. That’s about as far as it had gone. Still holding onto the title of friends. You were 18, him a few months older.

But he was thinking of marrying you, eventually. He was planning on it once this whole trip was done.

His plan was to rise up in the ranks, which was working fairly well at the moment. You both had stayed in a quiet, small place for the time being, as to not attract attention.

Years later, he was known as a wealthy tycoon, and he had travelled back to Louisiana with you by his side, and you still reluctant about his plan.

You’ve both been walking for hours, taking short breaks in between.

“Alastair, are you sure about this?” You asked again.

“I’m sure.” He said firmly.

—

Soon after he had owned the house, he cleaned it up and fixed it up.

With the help of you, it was clean and ready for his first big party. He was happy his father was dead, and Alastair wasn’t feeling like his old self. This felt different to you. You had a weird feeling about him, but stood by him nonetheless during the party.

The ring box in his pocket felt heavy, and for once in his life, Alastair was nervous. You’d been chatting with people, he watched from a distance. He saw multiple familiar faces, the people who had once betrayed him and shunned him away now with him, in this very room.

After chatting and talking with a few others you went back up to Alastair.

You both overlooked everyone downstairs,it was quite beautiful to see everyone dancing and having fun.

Then he suddenly grabbed your hand, you both walking down the stairs.

You giggled, asking him where you were going.

He didn’t answer as you were led to the front door, almost tripping on a rock before he grabbed your waist.

You stood back up and he guided you towards two small chairs, obviously meant for children.

“Can’t believe these are still here.” You mumbled, eyes going wide.

“I saw them when we walked in. The first day we came. You were probably too tired to notice.” He said with a small shrug, smile on his face.

You laughed and you both laid down on the grass, staring up at the stars and the night sky.

You both stayed quiet, basking in the beautiful moonlight that shimmered. The beautiful thing about the moon was that it stood out from all the stars, despite there being millions and millions of stars in the sky.

He thought of you like that, ever since you both were children.

He turned to you finally, and he stood back up.

“Come on. We should go back.”

You frowned, slightly upset that the moment couldn’t last longer but nodded anyways.

And you were in front of him, when you turned back you saw him on his knees, ring box open in his hand, a beautiful, expensive, elegant diamond ring in the middle.

Your eyes went wide, and the corners of your mouth went up.

“I love you. I always have loved you. Will you marry me?” It was short, but it was all you needed to hear, you smiled and you bent down, kissing him. He smiled and stood up again, your legs around his waist as you both kissed.

[heronchild-haven]

Every time I write a Heronchild AU I feel inclined to come up with a whole backstory for all the other characters, especially Cordelia and Alastair, even if they aren’t supposed be relevant to what’s happening at all. They just creep into the story organically and drag a whole Lightwood entourage + attachments in with them.

[tleeaves]

EXTRA! EXTRA! READ ALL ABOUT IT! GAY MEN AND THEIR LESBIAN FRIEND PLAY D&D AND NEARLY DIE! 🔥

Oh, hi again, it's an update from me, that writer whose past works you might remember in a dream or in a cold sweat at night <3 Chapter 4 of Blood Upon The Snow is out. Hope you enjoy the update!

Summary: 'It's like Dungeons & Dragons, but with slightly less dungeons and dragons. Alastair, Penrose, and James make their way through Bleak Falls Barrow, uncovering its unpleasant surprises and hidden secrets. Not everyone makes it out of the mountains whole and healthy.'

[edwinspaynes]

Even with his mouth coated in cheese, Thomas was perfect. “Alright," Alastair said, "Do continue. What is your proposed plan for tomorrow?” “We go to the Vatican Museum tonight. See the artwork, enjoy the Sistine Chapel’s undoubtedly over-rated scrawl. And then tomorrow, we go to the city centre, over by the Castel Sant’Angelo.” “Doesn’t the Vatican close... well, earlier than the current time?” Alastair rolled his eyes. “What is the point of being a Shadowhunter if we do not take advantage of our glamours and our ability to scale even the most ridiculous of brick piles?” - Or, the 5 times Thomas and Alastair misbehaved in Rome (and the 1 time they misbehaved immediately upon their return.)

@alastair-appreciation-month @alastember2024

tsc taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @staywildefairchild @sourlemons262 @belle-keys @drunkonimagination @alastaircarstairsismybff @vwritesaus @claritywithclary @purplebass @what-ho-christopher-put-in @life-through-the-eyes-of @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @bluewrite @lulusofis @oursoulstheyplay @tessherongraystairs @athearaej @faithfromanewperspective @vwritesaus @imabitchforjemcarstairs @emmalovesfitzloved @daisymydaisycarstairs @fangirlghost-19 @angeldaisies @celias @hanelizabeth @fangirlghost-19 @tiredandoptimistic

[cookie-crumblr]

Cookie! I want to tease the boys! (mostly Issac and Alastair)

Oh i got chu fam 😘✨

as always MINORS DNI

NSFW (i hope you mean that kind of teasing if not, lemme no!)

Alastair:

there is a TON of things you could do to fluster this boy.

Not wearing underclothes on purpose especially if it rains or your getting wet some other way.

Alastair will be short circuiting, we know this.

but if you really wanna make him brain dead:

Tug on his choker/collar.

I promise he’s wearing one.

and i promise there’s never a moment he doesn’t salivate at the idea of you slipping your fingers up under the material, running over his soft skin.

There’s never a moment he isn’t dreaming of you dragging him with you around all day even if it’s just mundane shopping.

imagine you pulling him along and the suddenly detouring beyond the shopping district, he notices you’re now wandering past all the hubbub and out into a park… Into an area with more pivacy…

Thankfully, he’s wearing a huge crocheted sweater that’s covering his fully tented shorts.

He’s twitching painfully against the fabric, harder now that he’s anticipating what you’re taking him away from prying eyes to do to him.

He’s practically whining by the time you stop moving, little tears in his eyes threatening to fall. He wants you so bad.

You throw him to the ground and stand over him, he hurriedly reaches up to worship you, and you slap his hands away.

It’s your turn to take care of him.

He can’t help the little yelp of excitement, his fangs almost poking his chin as he takes his lower lip into his mouth.

You kneel down to unbutton his shorts, instead of a belt he’s wearing a pink, bow-tied, silk ribbon.

You take one of the long tails and pull it so painfully slowly.

His hips raise on their own and he takes a sharp breath in.

finally his bottoms are open, and you’re free to do with him whatever you want.

Issac:

Now this boy is way easier to fluster, i swear he’s kinda like allie, but def doesn’t like seeing your blood (even tho he sees it as much as he does). He is also Actually kinda innocent in a way, and very shy.

To fluster him, really all you’d have to do is touch him. literally just poke the poor boy on his shoulder and he might explode.

You put your palm flat to his back, thinking he needed some consoling…

Only for his body to shudder violently, you pull your hand back fast.

“Why-d-did you take your hand back?” (probably imagining cutting it off to have for his own use forever, but thinks better of it since it would get cold, and he’d be forced to see your blood again…)

“oh… I thought i hurt you ‘sall…” You put it back, and again he convulses.

Your warmth spreading to him through your open palm.

He breathes in.

His pants getting tighter.

Dev.in notices instantly and steps out, locking the door, and trapping you in with Issac…

Issac is FERAL.

He spins around and jumps you, he pins you to the bed you had both been sitting on.

“I can’t believe it, you love me back! i can feel it!”

“Wh-what?” You babble in a daze.

“I know you do! your warmth, it seeps into me… You want to be a part of me, just as i want to be a part of you…” His breathing and speech is completely erratic.

You can’t fight him off if you tried, at least he’s never as physically painful as Dev.in makes it for you.

[purplebass]

Oh, and a word for Thomastair: Um,,, pearl!

This is part of another longer fic idea I've had in mind for weeks where Thomas and Alastair go to Italy. After we met yesterday, I just knew that I had to use this for the prompt you asked :)

Thomas had never been on an actual beach before, so the day after he and Alastair arrived in Italy, the first thing they did was packing their bags with towels and food and go swimming in the bright blue Mediterranean sea.

They were walking on the shore when something picked Thomas’ interest and he couldn’t help but taking it in his hands to inspect it. “Look what I found,” he said to a curious Alastair, “it looks like an oyster.”

Alastair didn’t know much about seashells, but he believed that Thomas could be right. “It is really interesting,” he commented.

“There is no pearl inside,” Thomas said with disappointment after opening it, not really sure what he was expecting inside the shell.

“You are a pearl, hamsaram,” Alastair said, and that was enough to make Thomas forget about the oyster altogether.

[vwritesaus]

The first thing Thomas notices is that he is standing in a well-lit room. Sunlight streams in through large arched windows, casting long rays along the floor and opposite walls from which framed paintings hang. He can’t make out any of the faces, most of them blurred or faded from age, but he can see every miniature groove in the elaborate frames carved with fleurs-de-lis, tiny leaves and rose petals.       The second thing he notices is Alastair Carstairs sitting sideways on one of the window seats of those arched windows, his back leaning against the edge of the arch and one foot planted firmly on the seat, the toes of the other grazing the wooden flooring. His attention is fixed on the world beyond the glass panes—a streaked mass of fluffy clouds and a blue sky stretching for miles—and his expression is contemplative, almost serious. That attention quickly turns to Thomas, possibly having sensed his presence, and something close to coyness blooms to life in his expression.       ‘Lightwood,’ he greets politely.       When Thomas blinks and doesn’t respond—too shocked to do so, because Alastair Carstairs is talking to him? To Tiny Tom, willingly?—Alastair rolls his eyes. He swings his whole body around to face him, both feet on the floor and his gaze fierce.       ‘Well?’ he prods. ‘Are you simply going to stand there like a cad, or are you going to come here and sit beside me?’

continue reading on ao3

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hello!! long time no see, haha...

but here i am, and i bring with me a little fic i wrote for my wonderful best girl @drunkonimagination for her birthday back in july ✨✨ it's based off this art of hers where thomas dreams of kissing alastair, only to get rather the rude awakening lol. hope you enjoy it!!

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tagging people who might be interested: @ibrushmyteeth-donttellanyone @ferrari-go-vroom-vroom @astriefer @luciehercndale @claritywithclary @bluewrite

let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list!!

[lesparis83]

wow I pounded out a whole fic for the mule in less than 30 minutes that’s actually crazy. come read this and then come cry with me