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pascalispretty · 2 months

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each man's mad desire

General Marcus Acacius x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Marcus Acacius is a conqueror. You invite him to conquer you.

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags: marcus fucks a nymph, predator/prey, knifeplay, blood, thigh riding, rough sex, sorta consensual-non-consent? Reader very explicitly wants him and invites him to hunt her down. Marcus has an unfashionably huge dick.

A/N: I swore I wasn't going to write for another character from an unreleased film, yet here we are. I loved studying Classics, so there are easter eggs within for those familiar with mythology. "Nymph" is more Greek than Roman, but it's also the better-known version of the word. Barcinus is a completely made-up cognomen for him (from the Latin name for Barcelona). Ichor is a Greek concept, but too delicious not to borrow here. Big dicks really were considered unattractive - it was a sign of barbarism to have a big penis. Title from Book IX of The Aeneid. Painting is 'The Charmer' by John William Waterhouse. (ao3)

The battle is won, the men are settled, and General Marcus Acacius is restless. He wears the efforts of the day in the blood and grime and sand coating his skin, the ache in his muscles. The city is retaken. The barbarians have been slaughtered or captured. He knows he should rest.

And yet, he wanders.

The camp is close by the beach. As he walks, the sound of the army behind him fades away, drowned out by the sound of the sea. The inviting aroma of the campfires and roasting meat is replaced by the smell of salt. There are sentries out here, somewhere in the night. He pays them no mind; he wishes to be alone. Grass turns to sand underfoot and still Acacius walks on. At the edge of the sea, he pauses briefly.

Across the Great Sea, to the east, stands Rome. It’s veiled by darkness and distance, but he turns to look for it anyway. He misses it the way a loyal son misses a beloved father. Word of a great victory will travel before him, the whispers moving faster than any army can.

When he returns home, he hopes he will be warmly welcomed. Those seeking to ride his skirts into Imperial favour will doubtless fall over themselves to praise him, at least. They will preen and flatter, and he will nod humbly and thank them.

“The Gods were with me.” It is always his answer, when asked of his victories. It is a clean answer. Men praise him for his piety; they do not imagine the lives he has sacrificed, the atrocities he has committed, the horrors of sacking a city. The Gods were with him; he does not have to speak of loosing his men like feral dogs upon innocents, of slaughtering barbarian sons so they cannot grow up to seek their vengeance on Rome.

Acacius turns and walks down the beach, leaving the camp behind him. The silvery light of the stars and moon light his path along the coast. He simply enjoys being away from all others, the crash of the waves and his own footsteps the only noise he can hear. The ground to his right begins to rise, soft grass yielding to rock. He has no sense of how long he has walked for when the beach before him suddenly ends. The shoreline curves sharply inward, creating a rocky inlet.

He has no desire to turn back now. Perhaps the path reemerges on the other side. He follows the curve of the stone inward. Ahead, he can see the path sloping down towards the waterline, leading towards the dark mouth of a cave. The tide is coming in; the water at the entrance to the grotto must be at least knee-deep.

Acacius is turning to leave when he notices her.

The inlet in the rock forms a pool at the entrance to the cave. Even in the silvery moonlight, the water looks beautiful and clear. It should not surprise him that a maiden might come to bathe there, away from prying eyes.

For it is a maiden that stops him in his tracks, fixes his boots to the stone. Her back is turned to him; she is perched atop a rock, her bare feet dangling in the saltwater of the pool. Now that he is aware of her, he thinks he hears her singing over the sounds of the waves, a melody he does not recognise.

An honourable man would depart. Acacius can only see her back, but she must be noble. Her dress is so white it is almost blinding, even in the starlight. Her feet are bare, but he spies a pair of finely-wrought sandals on the rocks beside her. Certainly a noble lady then.

His mind is made up to leave.

And at that very moment, she turns.

***

You had not expected to be discovered. Perhaps you might have toyed with him if you had. You could have disguised yourself as a maiden in need of assistance, a princess cast ashore by a shipwreck. There are endless amusements to be found among the mortals.

Yet he has stumbled upon your grotto quite by accident, and from your first glimpse, he intrigues you.

Marcus Acacius Barcinus.

Something whispers his name to you; you know it as soon as you see him, just as you know he has dark hair threaded with grey. You allow a smile to play on your lips.

To his credit, this man does not move. Confronted with something so nakedly celestial, other men have lost their minds. What is it for a man to look upon the face of the divine? They do not always survive it. This one seems strong. He may yet survive you.

“Hail, noble General,” you start, turning in your seat on the rock so you may face him more directly. He is a handsome one. His lovely dark eyes drink you in from head to toe.

“You know me?” He manages after a moment. Not mad then, not yet anyway. You laugh, and he seems startled by the sound.

“I do.” Sliding off the rock you step into the water, your stola clinging to your skin. “General Marcus Acacius Barcinus, son of Gaius Acacius. Your piety is known.” He is always attentive with his sacrifices. You can smell the burning flesh and spilled wine dedicated to the heavens from here, in honour of his latest victory.

You take a few steps towards him. He’s still atop the rocky crest, almost looking down on you. You near the base of the slope, your skirts drying the moment they leave the water, and halt again. The mouth of the grotto is to your back; you can hear the lap of the waves echoing against the rocky walls.

“And which noble goddess do I have the honour of addressing?” He asks. You have many names, too many to sift through. A mortal wrote you into a poem once; you give him the name the poet gave you.

“I had not thought ever to look upon a nymph before.” There is something in the way he says it; a tone of disbelief colouring his voice. It’s as though he expects to wake up in his tent at any moment. In the dark violet light of twilight, the blood on his skin looks brown and rusty. You can almost taste the iron on the air.

“Are you content merely to look?” You ask him, a sly smile on your lips. You already know he is not. This man is a conqueror, and he is looking at you with all the intensity and desire of a man set upon conquest. He does not speak for a long moment. Perhaps he is afraid of offending you, of saying the wrong thing and finding himself transformed into a pig or sea foam.

You walk a little closer to him, emerging from the water. Closer now, the smell of him drowning out the salt of the sea. He reeks of man, of blood and sweat and such pure vitality you nearly stagger. He’s so breathtakingly alive. If all mortal men are thus, you understand why your sisters seek them out and take them to bed, even bear their children.

“I admire a man who knows how to take what he desires. A conqueror in all things,” you continue, feeling the warmth of his gaze as he watches the sway of your hips. Once you are an arm’s length away from him, you reach out. You cannot help it. He’s such a marvellous specimen of manhood, the kind that ought to be honoured with a kingdom or a divine son or his form traced in the stars.

He does not stop you when you rest your palm against the leather of his cuirass. It’s warm to the touch, whether from the heat of his body or a day of the sun beating down upon it. The black leather has a gilded woman’s face across the front; Minerva perhaps. It gives you pause. If he values Minerva and her strategies above Mars and his frenzy, he may not enjoy your games.

Nevertheless, you will not let the tastes of mortal men unnerve you. He watches you as you undo the knot at one shoulder, and wordlessly reaches to help you. Together, the two of you free him from his heavy armour. As he sets it down gently against the rock, you nearly choke on him. You can hear the thrum of his heart, smell the salt of his sweat, the iron in his blood.

You have never starved. Yet this conqueror of men is like being blessed with a feast and realising for the first time that you have been dying of hunger all your life. Freed from his heavy leathers, you step so closely to him that your glimmering white dress brushes against his filthy red tunic. You reach out to cup his jaw, enjoying the way his skin feels to your touch.

He swallows thickly, his lovely eyes searching your face.

“I want you.” He says it simply, though you know it must have taken courage. Men have died for such insults before. You let a smile curl around your lips.

“Mars himself had my maidenhead. I do not submit easily to the advances of men.” Standing on tiptoe, you lean in until your lips nearly touch the shell of his ear. “If you want me, you will have to take me.”

It’s all the prompting you give him before you turn and run.

You run down the beach, back the way he came. You have more powerful kin who could outrun him with ease, if they chose. Minerva could be a continent away in moments, if she chose. You do not have their same powers; you might be fleeter of foot than a mortal woman, but you cannot transform yourself into a swan and fly back to the heavens.

Behind you, you hear Acacius’ feet pounding against the sand. The noise blurs with the roar of his heartbeat, thumping harder as he chases you. You run faster, pulling your skirts up with one hand so they cannot tangle around your legs. It has been far too long since you felt this exhilarated. Off in the distance, you can see the lights of his camp, the torches and bonfires burning brightly in the twilight.

You lose yourself to the chase, paying the distance no mind as you race down the beach. Sand flies up beneath your bare feet, gritty under your toes as you run. Something in you wants to turn around, to see if the handsome general is still close behind you. You can hear him well enough to know he is behind you, but not well enough to gauge the distance.

You don’t look. You only run.

Even though you had invited the hunt, desperately hoping to be caught, the hand that catches your waist surprises you. He seizes you by the waist and tackles you into the sand, pinning you beneath his muscular bulk. The feeling of being trapped sends a perverse thrill racing through you, something warm stirring in your belly.

Though he has caught you, you do not give in so easily.

You thrash underneath him, trying to throw him off you. Acacius is unyielding. His large hands grip your arms; his knees squeeze at your sides. You get one arm free and bring it up. You’re not sure what you intend to do; you don’t want to break him. Scratch him, perhaps? You never get the chance to find out.

Before you see him move, he seizes your arm and pins your wrist beneath his foot. One hand flies to your throat; the other draws a dagger from its sheath and holds the point against the swell of your breast.

For a long moment, you cannot breathe. The large hand at your throat squeezes just enough to threaten a loss of air. The foot on your wrist makes the delicate bones there grind together on just the right side of pleasure-pain. And oh, the blade at your heart. The tip pierces your skin and you don’t know whether to scream or cry or vomit from the shock.

You have never been so still in your life.

When has anything mortal ever pierced your skin? When has anything mortal managed to cut through the skin of your kith and kin? You have vague memories; bandaging Mars’ side after the great spearman Diomedes struck him outside Ilium. You watch in horror and awe as a bead of ichor seeps from the pinprick wound. Mars has made you bleed before, but you never thought a mortal might draw your glittering, golden blood.

You look up at him, your conqueror. He is panting hard, but his face shows no exhaustion; only determination. His eyes are nearly black with desire, and his lovely black and grey curls are damp with sweat. Gods, you want him. You want him to hunt you down as he would a deer, to throw you down and take you like some common mortal whore.

Watching you closely, Acacius eases his grip on your throat. A man used to gauging the weakness of his enemies has seen right through you in turn. He knows you do not need air to breathe. He knows he has done something astounding in the knife at your breast. He holds it steady as he reaches beneath the skirts of his tunic, pulling at the strings of his underthings. He pulls it free with a grunt and discards it beside you in the sand.

Free from its confinement, his manhood pushes against the skirt of his tunic. Something low in your belly twists in anticipation, slick coating the insides of your thighs. Your blood feels as though it’s boiling beneath your skin as Acacius grips the fine cloth of your stola in one filthy hand.

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes upon,” he tells you, in all sincerity. You tremble underneath him as he pushes your skirts up around your waist, another bead of ichor welling up around the tip of the blade.

You gasp as the metal shifts, and his eyes flick to your face. Almost lovingly, his hand wraps around your throat again.

“Do you yield?” When no reply is immediately forthcoming, he presses his advantage. The hand at your throat and foot at your wrist push harder; more glittering blood beads at your breast. The surface tension finally breaks, sending the blood dripping down towards your neck.

“I yield.” In an instant, he relaxes his hold. The foot on your wrist disappears, as does the blade. The hand on your throat remains, tipping your head up so he can kiss you. He kisses like his master, Mars; hard and demanding. You return the kiss with bruising intensity, nipping at his lower lip. It seems only fair that you make him bleed a little, in turn.

His beard prickles against your skin, and you answer it by sliding your hand into his curls and pulling roughly. Acacius groans against your mouth, crushing himself closer to you and forcing your legs apart with his knee. His muscular thigh presses against your bare cunt, the pressure sending liquid fire dancing through your body. You rut up against his thigh eagerly, your slick smearing against his skin.

Acacius notices your movements, breaking off the kiss to stare at you. The raw lust in his eyes makes you keep going, rocking your hips desperately against him. His thigh flexes between your legs, and you groan loudly. Without taking his eyes off you, his hand drifts to cup your breast, tantalisingly close to the tiny wound on your unblemished skin.

“Are you going to stab me again, slayer of men?” You ask him, tauntingly. You wouldn’t mind if he did.

“No, dear mistress. I’ll watch you debase yourself on my thigh.” Oh, you want to keep him. Your sisters have kept mortals before; you remember well the fuss around sweet Hylas, cunning Ulysses. Your conqueror finds your nipple through the fine material of your dress, the flesh stiffening beneath his fingers as he toys with you.

Your hips roll easier, faster as you sink deeper into your pleasure. Every glide becomes slicker as you soak his skin. It’s been some time since you’ve so blatantly sought your own pleasure, and you welcome it back eagerly. That familiar tension is coiling tightly in your belly and sends you spiralling higher with every movement.

Acacius watches you with fascination. His own pleasure is forgotten for the moment, though you suppose he is enjoying this. Something divine rubbing against him like a cat in heat; no man alive would believe him if he told them. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps and you clutch at Acacius’ wrist to ground yourself. He’s so solid and warm to your touch; his vitality is unlike any aphrodisiac you have ever known.

It’s not long before you come with a cry, your nails digging into Acacius’ skin as you shudder against him. The fire in your belly burns through you, the heat of it radiating out to your fingertips. It leaves you boneless beneath your conqueror. He seizes the advantage, pulling your legs wider apart to slot his other leg between them.

You struggle. Why not? It amuses you to make him manhandle you into place. He pulls your legs wider with one hand. With the thumb of the hand at your breast, he presses just below the cut. The burst of pain makes you hiss. Cowed, you let him pull your legs apart, his eyes feasting on your cunt. You must look a mess, swollen and soaked.

Acacius lets go of your leg and pulls up the hem of his tunic. He’s big, unfashionably so for his countrymen. Beads of fluid leak from the reddened tip, and he swipes them away with his thumb. He settles himself between your thighs, and you gasp when he notches the blunt head of his cock against your entrance. Without warning or reprieve, he forces his cock inside you.

You throw your head back against the sand, stars exploding against your closed eyelids as you dance along the knife edge of pleasure and pain. A deep groan rumbles out of Acacius’ throat as he presses deeper, working against your tight muscles to seat himself within you. He’s unrelenting, his length thick and twitching as it fills you.

There’s no other word for it; you wail up at the star-strewn sky, pleasure flooding through you. Your body feels too small to contain the fire being stoked inside you, deep in your core. You pull at Acacius, nails clawing, dragging him down to kiss you. His lips meet yours in a messy crash, all tongues and teeth as he finally seats himself fully within you.

He barely allows you a moment to adjust. He retreats almost fully, his cock nearly leaving you completely, before sliding back in with one fluid stroke of his hips. You’re shaken by how willingly your body accepts him, colouring any pain with so much pleasure you barely notice the discomfort. His hand finds your throat again, squeezing just enough to make you feel lightheaded.

Acacius’ incursions become sharper, harder, as he finds his rhythm. Your hands slide under the hem of his tunic to clutch at his back, your nails leaving behind tiny red crescents in his skin. Every breath you take is shared by him, your mouths so close together you can taste the wine lingering on his tongue. The two of you move together, your moans melting into one another as you fuck like animals in the sand.

It doesn’t take him long to send you over the edge again. Bliss wipes all words from your mind; you can only lie there and let your release crash over you. The ichor in your veins feels like it’s singing. Acacius looks down on you in awe, and it only drives you higher. You want to keep him. The Heroic Age is too far past; the world is lacking for heroes. Perhaps you and Acacius can make a few; handsome, strong boys, half-god children who reflect their father’s divine favour.

“Would you give me sons, Acacius?” You ask, breathless at his onslaught. Your foreheads are pressed together still; you cannot see the look on his face. He groans sharply, his hands clutch tighter at you. Is that a yes? What greater blessing to a pious man than a son born to a goddess.

He certainly shows no signs of stopping. He fucks you with the same vigour he fights with. You feel like you’re floating, high above your own body, lost completely to pleasure. Jupiter himself could command you to stop, and you’d be unable to obey. You grow restless beneath him. His hand has slackened around your throat, so you lean down to lick a line across his neck. The taste of salt and iron explodes across your tongue, so delicious that you have to force yourself not to sink your teeth in.

Acacius grunts above you, forcing you back down against the sand. His hips are stuttering; a sign that he’s close to his own release. You want to cry, want to prolong this as much as possible, but you know he has limits. Your sisters have pushed mortal men too far before; you will not make the same mistake, not with so delicious a playmate.

Instead you spur him on. Your nails dig harder into his back, making him groan sharply. His short, desperate thrusts make your eyes roll back into your skull as he touches something deep and private within you, unknown to anyone else.

“I- I must-” He starts, words failing him as he chases his release. You pepper his face with kisses, nip at his kiss-swollen lips.

“You must,” you agree. “I want you to fill me up.” You’re both breathless, barely any air between your bodies to breathe. One of your hands slides into his curls, pulling at them. You guide his head down until your lips are at his ear again.

“I could give you a son,” you whisper. “But only if you finish inside me. Claim me; mark me as yours. Conquer me.”

He tips over the edge with a loud groan, his hips stuttering as he comes. You can feel his cock twitch inside you as he does, filling you with his seed. Perhaps something might catch; he seems virile enough. You cradle his head against the crook of your neck as he catches his breath, his body heavy as he relaxes on top of you.

“Noble Acacius,” you murmur fondly, stroking his curls. “Marcus. What do you make of your new conquest?” He is quiet for a long moment. The crash of the waves fills the silence, the tide drawing closer. Soon, the two of you will have to move.

“I shall never know another victory like it.”

Taglist:

Tagging some people who might be interested: @iamasaddie (per their request for Acacius filth) @avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @its-nebuleuse

#general marcus acacius #marcus acacius #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius fanfiction #gladiator 2

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geopsych · 5 months

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Along the lake inlet at sunrise. The last time I was there everything including that far shore was brown. I love to see the green.

#pennsylvania #landscape #sunrise #lake #reflections #april #springtime #clouds

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lady-arryn · 1 year

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DREDGE (2023) ▸ The Marrows

Today we're sailing around the island and inlets at the back of Greater Marrow. I love the rocks here: the layers and colours are so striking.

#gamingedit #dredgeedit #gamingscenery #videogameedit #gameplaydaily #dailyvideogames #indiegamesource #gamingnetwork #dredge #dredge 2023 #**#*gif #*dredge

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kooqitas · 6 months

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— more than middle finger ★ with: myg!

#pairings: bf!yoongi X reader

#synopsis: you're back at the club with yoongi, yes, the same club where he fingered you the first time

#tags: pwp, sex, rough sex, cockslut, spanking, spit, vaginal sex, degradation, humiliation, orgasm play, creampie, overstimulation, dacryphilia, oral sex, multiple orgasm, forced orgasm, rough oral sex, face fucking, squirting, public sex, REALLY PUBLIC SEX, exhibitionism, several people watching you, the use of a bottle, kinda of free use? i'm just going to stop tagging or we'll have 3k words just here

#notes: i said namkook's story was the dirtiest but the reality is I'M CRAZY. everything consensual but everything VERY dirty

#wc: 1,8k

PART ONE

🌸 . . english isn’t my first language, so be patient :)

“i'm fuck you here. in front of everyone. and you know what you're gonna do about it? nothing, because you a whore, a cumslut that accepts everything”

yoongi spit on your face, lifting up your skirt.

"do you remember the first time we met? you cummed on my finger in front of everyone, now you gonna cum on my cock" he squeezed your face, spitting in your mouth again.

having three or four months that you met, you and yoongi was in the same club that the first time, you're not a couple officially, you still afraid of relationship because of your ex, but you and yoongi have something...

and god, have been so good, yoongi is smart, pretty, empathetic, sweet, he always talk when something happened and he always fuck you so good…

the skinny skirt was in your waist, and anyone can see you underwear because doesn't have anything covering your legs.

"yoongi, we can be jailed"

"not if we make a show"

and like a few months ago, his middle finger brushes on you, and your legs tremble again, you're never able to get used to yoongi.

"wet. my cockslut is always wet for me. you remember your safe word?" he asked.

“yes…”

“so maybe is better if we show this” he put the hand in the zipper of your shirt, opening everything, you are without a bra, like, everyone see your breasts, you feel complete exposed, just a underwear in your body and you know that wet like that it won't last long.

fuck, yoongi is completely crazy.

without warning, his hand entered over the income, groping all your cunt, your cold hand, due to the air conditioning, giving you chills.

“everyone can see your pussy dripping, you like that, no?” he's giving a painful pinching and twisting in your nipple. “my needy whore making a mess”

so yoongi put two fingers, making your eyes roll, you loved when he went without any care, calling you the dirtiest names possible, even with the loud music, you listen to the sound that his fingers do inside of you.

yoongi could drive you crazy with just his fingers, you didn't even know he was that sensitive, but the way he touched you was divine.

"m-more p-please"

"more? does this whore pussy want more? i think my fingers isn't enough, this fuck hole need more"

you can feel your juices leaking your legs, and people stopped to watch you but you can't say anything, you just feel horny and yoongi noticed this.

you see when a guy get closer when yoongi called him, and you gets a little scared, you don't feel comfortable to strangers touching on you without your permission, and he knows that, yoongi just murmed a "relax, no one touches you, only me, ok?"

the guy was with a beer bottle in your hand, and yoongi forced a bottle inlet into your cunt, he rub your clit and force you to dirty the circle.

you held your breath, feeling dirty from being fucked by a bottle.

"don't disappoint me, my friend want to prove you, dirty that shit with that disgusting hole now”

there was no more than two centimeters of the bottle inside you, but your whole body reacted as if it was all over you, you had never felt so horny, you didn't know if it was the situation, if it was the bottle, if it was yoongi's friend watching you to moan

"i w-wan” you tried to say in middle of the moans, but was so difficult, you never felled something like that “k-kiss”

“i kiss you?”

“no… p-please hi-m”

yoongi laughed. at the same time he said you were a freak who was cumming in a beer bottle.

“jungkook, she wants to kiss you” yoongi said, so his friend stood in front of you. "just kiss, don't touch her, ok?"

“just what she asks” jungkooks agreed.

so the guy kiss you, and yoongi went a little further, placing a few more inches of the bottle on you.

jungkook's kiss is wild, and you're grateful that he doesn't touch you beyond your waist because you don't know if you could handle it, he forces your lips in an aggressive way and his tongue seems to contain poison. you moaned and every sound was swallowed by jungkook.

yoongi pinch your clit, and this is the point to make you cum, you scream on jungkook's mouth and he's smiling. when Jungkook separates, you feel the bottle being removed from inside you, and when you realize it's in jungkook's mouth, he licks the length and then drinks the liquid that fell into the bottle, mixing with the beer.

so jungkook is gone, but not without said how much he wants prove you right, and not without yoongi gives your underwear to him.

you are completely naked. but you don't have time to understand this because a white light is on you.

you are completely naked in front of some hundred people.

"that's on, every cell phone and camera was caught by security, no one is recording you" so yoongi had thought of everything? did he plan to fuck you in front of everyone from the beginning? "it's a show, baby you know, i can't be sweet, right?" he kissed your forehead "but just a word and i stop, ok?"

you agreed, because for more than 5 months it wouldn't be much, yoongi is always being careful, he never hurted you, and this wouldn't be the first time.

yoongi left your hair, leaving you on your knees while he took out his fat cock, you noticed the way people were around you, most of them men, and your pussy got even more wet as you felt desired by them.

he spit so many times in you and the spit dribble out of your mouth, and then he slapped you hard, which made your face turn into a red mess, and put his dick down your throat, while you tried hard not to choke due to yoongi's violence, others mens shouted that you were a slut, whore, bitch, and your pussy tightened more and more around nothing.

"all the guys are dying to eat that pussy of yours, but i'm the only one who's going to ruin it" yoongi said when he literally continued fucking your mouth, without any mercy.

you took as much of the cock into your mouth as you could, looking up at yoongi with devocion when he moaned.

he removed his cock from your mouth, and then rubbed his balls on your face, and like a good whore you stuck your tongue out, drooling as much as you could on your owner.

"my slutty takes everything that i give to her. so pretty"

your lips glowed, yoongi's precum is better than any lipstick. you put the dick on the month again, sucking every part of him. feeling his blowing up on you throat.

yoongi moves you away quickly, just to cum on your face, and you laugh when he cums on you. everyone watching your face dirty with yoongis fluid.

you looked for some guys, and they had his own dick in their hands, masturbating to the scene they saw. you’ve never been more humiliated, but at the same time, you’ve never been feel so good.

yoongi grabbed you by your throat, slap your tits, after your face, stuff his fingers down your throat and in one swift his put his cock on you.

“look at your juice running down my cock, you’re just begging to be stretched, wide pussy!"

he bends your body, you just in heels with your face close to the floor while he fucks you like you were a doll, you scream his name all the time, the music is cut, everyone listen you moaning loud in his dick.

you see some puddles of cum on the floor, and you think some guys are cumming, your pussy tightens even more at that.

“you're enjoying seeing guys cumming because of that stretched pussy? you’re freaky!”

“i’m g-gonn-a, m-my g-od, i’- pl-” you even can't speak, you just scream and cry, seeing stars, god, you never felt so horny

“i want your cream, my cockslut give me her cream?”

he pulls your hair, forcing you to look at the guys masturbating in front of you, and the only response you have is to squirt. the liquid coming out of you so strong that it expels yoongi's dick.

still he doesn't stop, he knows you can take more.

the guys around you start shouting, you can't even hear what they're saying, but you know they're humiliating you. and you like this.

he sticks his cock in you again and removes one hand from your hip to starts brutally rubbing your engorged clit, you throw your head back, drool slipping past your mouth. you’re so overstimulated, you feel your cunt fluttering around his cock, he does too. you scream and cry but you don't wanna he stops. never.

“cum again, useless whore! i know you can!” yoongi said, slapping on your ass.

“cum again! cocksleeve! we wanna see you cum again!” you didn't even know who the man was who screamed.

you keep drooling, you no longer know what squirt water is, what crying or drooling is, you just feel like you're going to cum again

yoongi pulls his dick all the way out and you scream when his put inside again, with this his cum on you, making you cum again!

but he won't stop, put his finger on your clit and rubs in a brutal way

“yoongi! yoongi! yoongi!” you moan so loud you feel like you'll never have a voice again…

and then you wake up, or rather, your boyfriend wakes you up.

"i'm really worried if this is a dream or a nightmare, you're rubbing against me like a bitch in heat"

no. it's not possible, was it all a fucking wet dream?

"i have no idea what you were dreaming of but... we can make it happen" your boyfriend said, moving your panties to the side and running his finger over your hole.

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts smut #bts #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #yoongi #yoongi x y/n #jungkook x you #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #suga #suga x reader #suga x you #suga x y/n #bts imagine #★... lulli writes #kooqitas smut

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forestgreenivy · 1 year

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The marsh is constantly changing shape, but it always stays familiar.

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kaylopolis · 4 months

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Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter One

Pairing: Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest. Now, with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans bring you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power…

Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Word Count: 67+ and counting (of the whole fic)

Chapters: 10/??

Warnings: Minors DNI! 18+! May contain disturbing, gruesome, and graphic sexual scenes. Graphic violence. Blood. Obsession. Mentions of abuse. Mentions of substance abuse. Trigger warnings will be given at the beginning of each chapter.

Link to Masterlist: Masterlist

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Author note: Hoteliers, This is my first attempt at a fanfic, but I was just so inspired and wanted to post it somewhere after writing like +67K words (and counting). So here goes nothing I guess?

<3 Stay Smutty

Chapter One - The Commercial

Content Warning: None but let me know if I missed any!

“Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent than the one derived from fear…” - Mahatma Gandhi

____________________________________________

Your fingers find the brass handle as anxiety builds in the back of your throat.

Are you nervous? Why are you nervous? The commercial seemed so inviting and everyone seemed so nice - even if it was a bit glitchy in some frames. If they are indeed as altruistic as they appear, then you’ll be fine!

But, what if they don’t accept you?

Nonsense, you just need to show that you care, that you can help. After all, Princess Morningstar wouldn’t turn help away, would she? You were there in the courtyard a few days ago when Heaven’s clock ticked down from one year to 6 months: 182 days right before your eyes. Damn… But it gave you an opening - a reason to repent as opposed to just showing up out of the blue and inventing some backstory in an attempt to explain your sudden desire to achieve redemption. It was an opportunity you couldn’t refuse.

“Okay, so the Extermination is coming in six months instead of a year. No big deal…”

As you stepped into the Hotel, you couldn’t help but be underwhelmed by the state of the place. From the outside it seemed big and glamorous - despite the random bits of cell phone tower and… was that a mast from a ship? On the inside, it was worse. Way worse. It wasn’t gross, it was an array of stuff… that was probably the best way to put it. The carpet was torn, the wallpaper peeling, parts of the wall had been tacked together with newer planks of wood to repair unknown sources of damage. It was… Well at least it didn’t smell… that bad…

Emerging into the foyer, small suitcase in hand - after all, you didn’t own much - you searched for the front desk, but the only thing resembling any sort of check-in area was a bar where a cat-bird thing was organizing bottles.

To your left was a small inlet before a fireplace, fit with television and radio where two demons sat, listening to a blonde haired bellhop pace.

“… well just handle it! Right!?” The girl grabbed at her hair.

No, not a bellhop. Princess Charlie Morningstar. God, she looked just like her dad. The only thing she got from Lilith was her height. Probably a good thing…

Your heart sank at the sight of her. Biting back the flood of memories threatening to spill down your face, you take a deep breath and enter.

“Yes,” a grey demon stood, a waterfall of dark hair brushed the floor as she walked. “We will.” She grabs Charlie’s shoulders, forcing her to stop pacing.

They still hadn’t noticed you. Was this eavesdropping? Were you being rude? That wouldn’t make for a great first impression.

You took a few hesitant steps forward hoping they’d hear your heels clack against the wood.

“Oh please,” the spider-looking thing sitting on the couch scoffed, staring down at his phone as he talked. “Ya’ had less than half a chance before you started all this salvation bullshit. And now… ain’t no silver linin’, toots.”

You cleared your throat, having practically snuck up on the group.

“Oh my gosh!” The blonde squeaked as the grey demon with ridiculously long hair pulled a spear on you, stepping before the Princess.

You dropped the suit case immediately, raising your arms to show you meant no harm.

“Who are you? What are you doing sneaking around?” She demanded.

Your eyes flit to the “X” eye patch, then to the silver tip mere inches from your nose.

Oh shit, this girl’s the Fallen. Relax, you accounted for that. So long as she doesn’t recognize you…

“I’m sorry!” You squeak, taking a half step back. She follows, her spear not leaving your face. “I tried making noise but you must not have heard me. I was just looking to check-in but…”

“Huh!” The Princess gasped so loud it made your ears pop.

Pushing the ex-Exorcist - huh, funny - aside the blond grabs your shoulders and squeezes. “Are you a guest!?” Her eyes sparkled.

“Well, yeah. I was hoping…” you didn’t get a chance to finish before she brought you into a hug so tight you couldn’t breathe. She lifted you off your feet and spun you in a circle before placing you back on the ground.

“Yay! Vaggie, our very first guest!” She sang.

“Hey!” The spider finally looked up from his phone. “I’m sittin’ right ‘ere ya’ know?”

Did he have six eyes or two? Hard to tell but the pink dots decorating his face blinked when he did.

Creepy.

“Okay, hun,” the Fallen drops her spear, taking Charlie by the arm in an endearing way, but you really knew it was to hold her back. “Let’s give our guest some space. Let her breathe. She can’t be redeemed if you suffocate her and she dies… Again.”

“Right,” she laughs, reigning herself in. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” Her arms fan out to the room, gesturing to the rundown establishment.

You musture a genuine smile, not because you’re impressed with the place but because the Princess’ happiness was infectious.

“My name is Charlie!” She takes your hand in hers.

“My name is Thestral,” you answer between the vigorous shakes rolling up your arm.

“Okay, that’s enough,” the Fallen pulls Charlie away from you. “I’m Vaggie. The guy on the couch is Angel and Husk is behind the bar.”

Angel gives you a mindless wave, frowning at something on his phone. The bar cat tips his hat to you before pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

Was the bartender supposed to drink the supply? Also, wasn’t it barely nine in the morning?

“Let me get your bag!” Charlie snatches the hardback suitcase before you have a chance to protest. Dragging you by the elbow, she insists upon a tour.

The Hotel was cute - if not a weird hodgepodge of thrown together dimensions. The bar was clearly cut from somewhere else, the piano room is definitely not of this century, and don’t get you started on the pool. All in all however, it was cute. You could see yourself here, in the library reading late at night with a glass of red, in the music room practicing your piano, on the back balcony enjoying the breeze and screams of innocents. It wasn’t perfect - nothing compared to the luxury you experienced before Hell - but it felt home-y.

“This is you!” Charlie pulls a key from her pocket as she stops before a door. “Angel is to the left and Alastor is just across the hall.” Grabbing your arm once more, she drags you inside.

It’s cute but humble - something you’d expect from a bed and breakfast and not a city hotel. The room is huge, with a four post bed wrapped in white sheets, neatly tucked into the sides military style. To your left is a small sitting area with a couch and coffee table. Past that were two doors, one leading to a small walk-in closet and the other a tile bathroom.

Frankly, coming from sharing a cramped city apartment in Cannibal Town to this was a huge step up as far as you were concerned.

“Here you are!” She dropped a black key in your hand, a cat’s eye decorating the handle. Finally, a room to call your own. “Nifty cleans on Sundays and…”

“Wait, my room gets cleaned?” You scrunched your nose in confusion.

“Of course! We don’t want you to have anything to worry about when you stay with us. Redemption is the goal, afterall!” Charlie sang.

That was going to be a problem…

Charlie stood staring at you for a long moment, her eyes sparkling in the low light. Her hands cupped her chin as she smiled at you with such emotion you were surprised her face didn’t split in half right there. She looked like a small child, waiting for a candy bar or something.

God, you didn’t realize how enthusiastic she would be about all this. Now is definitely not the time to tell her you had no intentions of being redeemed. You were just here for the chaos. Frankly, any normal person would feel guilty right about now, but not you.

Oh, you had far bigger plans for Ms. Morningstar, she just didn’t know it yet.

“Okay,” Vaggie steps up, grabbing her by the collar. “We’ll let you get unpacked. It’s Sunday so brunch is at eleven in the kitchen. We’ll come get you and show you the way. If you need anything there’s a rotary phone by the bed, just call Husk at the bar. He’s always there…”

“A rotary phone?” You scrunch your nose.

Sure enough, a black rotary phone sat on the bedside table. What century was this? Cannibal Town was stuck in the 1900s but at least they had cell phones.

“Yeah, the Hotel Manager is a bit outdated with his tastes…” Vaggie grumbles. You sensed tension in her comment but didn’t ask for further details.

“Anyway!” Charlie puts a hand on your shoulder. “We’re really, REALLY glad you’re here.” She breathed in your face, her voice cracking with the threat of tears.

God, she even had Lucifer’s mannerisms…

You huffed, blowing off the extra emotions her smile pushed into you. “Thank you for taking me in.”

Watching as the Exorcist pulled the Princess back down the hallway, you shut your door and collapsed against the wood.

“Fuck,” you breathed. Charlie was going to be someone you could only handle in small doses.

The Princess definitely didn’t recognize you and neither did Vaggie. She might be Hell Royalty but she was oblivious.

Did she know about Vaggie? Maybe she did and has already accepted it. This place is about second chances after all.

It didn’t take you long to unpack, after all you didn’t have many personal possessions. A few sets of clothes, some boots and heels, your toiletries and makeup… The suitcase was only half full when you packed it with every possession you owned. Now all you could do was stand before the mirror in the bathroom and stare at yourself as the anxiety began to build again. You fixed your red lipstick over and over until it drove you mad. Throwing the makeup back into your bag, your mind turned to your outfit.

You were dressed in black slacks which sat high on your hips, fanning out at your legs. Tucked into your waistband was a white button up, giving you the hourglass appearance. Your silver hair was twisted into a bun at the back of your head, a metal clip holding it in place. Your eyes seemed to glow in the dim light, your yellow irises emitting their own form of light.

Out of all the animalistic appearances in Hell, you were gifted the rare form of a somewhat normal human shape. No tail, no ears, no horns - well, in your normal state anyway. It was just you, with skin as pale white as Charlie’s and a nose tipped in black. You stood a normal five foot four, but in heels you could argue five and a half. You didn’t have canines as sharp and distinct as others, but hey who needed them? You preferred fighting with your hands, anyway.

Frankly, you were boring compared to the Sinners and Natives of Hell. The most interesting note was the tattoo which spanned your back from shoulder blades to your hips, but that wasn’t important at the moment.

Your mind returned to your clothes again. They were nice, nothing too flashy and definitely not Velvette brand, but were they too much? Weekend brunches in Cannibal Town were always such a classy affair, something you were expected to dress up for despite the messy array of food which was served.

Was that expected here?

As if on cue, a door opens in the hallway and footsteps echo across the carpet.

Perhaps you should ask.

Racing to the door, you peak your head out to find Angel heading to the stairs, his nose stuck in his phone.

“Uhm, excuse me?” You chirp. It was barely audible and he wasn’t paying attention but you were a new voice, which definitely drew him from whatever battle was playing itself out on his screen.

“Oh, hey!” He tucked the cell phone back into his pocket. His face contorted into a smile, he was doing his best not to show his frustration but it was still quite obvious. “They put ya’ right next to me aye?” He leans against the doorframe, one arm on the wall, the other three at his hips. “Just a fair warning. I can get a little loud. If ya’ know what I mean?” He winks at you, a knowing smile spreading across his sharp teeth as he elbows your side.

God, he was tall, he’d have to be like six foot three or something.

Up close, and with his attention fully on you, you could finally study his eyes: right eye sclera black, left white. Someone owned him, but with restrictive conditions.

You already knew the answer: Valentino. Hey, what can ya’ say? You did your homework.

“Do you guys dress up for brunch or is it more casual?” You smiled, doing your best not to stare at the pink dots blinking back at you on his cheeks. Still creepy.

“Oh, uh, I dunno, toots. I normally just go in whatever I have on.” He gestured to his pink striped shirt and long boots.

Casual it is then.

“But if ya’ prefer. I could go in nothing at all,” he purrs, his eyebrows wiggling at you suggestively.

You couldn’t help but giggle. You got the sense that it wasn’t genuine flirting. That he was trying to make you smile more than anything else. He enjoys entertaining others like that. Probably why he became a Porn Star - and such a famous one at that.

His face lit up at your laugh.

“Great, the wire in this bra is killing me!” You mime a pain in your back, eliciting a laugh from the spider demon himself.

“I like yous,” he holds out a hand to shake. “Names Angel Dust.”

“Thestral,” you shook his furry hand - he had so many, you wondered how he went shopping for shirts.

“Thestral? Like the dead horses from ‘arry Potter?”

“You know your JK Rowling?”

Angel had to have died in like the 40s/50s - from what research you did before coming here. How did he know about the books and movies made popular in the 2010s?

“Yeah, she ended up down here after she died. Kept writing weird shit about her characters. Really changed my views on the Potterverse. It was shocking for a while but you can only be so entertaining on Sinstagram and Vitter for so long these days.” He shrugged.

“Huh, for some reason that doesn’t surprise me, but thank you. The last place I lived, everyone was expected to dress for meals and I just wanted to be sure.”

“No problem, toots. If ya’ don’t mind me askin’, how long yous been down here? If ya’ didn’t know about the Potter thang, it couldn’t have been that long?” His accent: New York?

“Just shy of six years, actually,” you rubbed the back of your neck anxiously, feeling the bubbles beginning to fester inside you.

You’ve done work to gather information before, but you’ve never had to act like you were now. You were always behind a mask… How many details were too many to share?

“Oh, damn, just shy of being a Fleshy!” He smiles.

“A Fleshy?” You scrunch your nose.

“Yeah, the living or whatnot.” He pulls out his phone again, frowning at the notification screen before pulling up an app. Something was definitely bothering him. “Hey, whatcha say we head down a little early? I can pull up her Vitter page and show ya’ some good ones?” The spider demon smiled, frustration weighing down his eyebrows. He had a single gold tooth which sparkled in the low light.

“Sure!” You tried to respond not too excitedly.

This was the plan. Get in early with one of the Hotel mates and use it as a way to get information on the others.

You had thought it was going to be Husk. What bartender didn’t love gossip? But here was Angel offering himself up on a silver platter.

You only had about an hour before brunch was served, but those sixty minutes laying in the alcove by the fireplace were the most hilarious minutes of your life. Angel had you laughing so hard you were crying. Things were going well. Despite the constant text messages from Valentino you pretended not to notice chime across the screen.

At about eleven, a small girl named Nifty - who introduced herself as the housemaid - emerged from the kitchen to announce that brunch was ready, and as everyone piled into the room and found their designated places, you realized you didn’t know where to go. It was like being the new kid at school walking into the lunchroom with a sack lunch and not a friend in the world to rescue you.

“Hey” Angel waved you to the only available seat left, which just so happened to be at the head. “Sit next to me, will ya’?”

Relief.

“No! That’s Mr. Alastor’s seat!” Nifty protested from her place by the oven. Her entire body practically vibrated with energy.

“Mr. Alastor?” That name definitely did not come up in your research.

“Relax, Tiny. Smiles is on the terrace this morning drinkin’ his tea.” Angel leaned back in his chair, one set of arms folded behind his head. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill ‘em. Or maybe it will and we can finally be free o’ him and his creepy, ol’ timey ways. Either way, we’ll be fine.”

You blinked a few times before hesitantly falling into the seat. Nifty gave a great sigh as she watched you sit, not liking it but allowing it. She busied herself with serving platters of food, her lips twisted in a pout.

It’s a chair. You didn’t think it was that big of a deal? Maybe he was one of those people who was territorial with their things?

As you sat and passed the food around, you couldn’t help the hairs which prickled on the back of your neck. How could you have missed another guest at the Hotel? You swore you wrote down everyone you saw in that glitchy commercial and did thorough research before coming here. You were never this sloppy.

“Can I get you anything to drink, Thestral?” Charlie was at the fridge with five different bottles of liquid in her hand, eagerly awaiting your answer.

“Coffee would be great,” you smiled through a mouth full of eggs, one hand over your face to be polite. God, Nifty was a great cook. You usually never ate breakfast but this was amazing.

The Hotel inhabitants sat and talked like family. This place has only been open what? Two weeks? And already they got along like they’ve lived together for years. It was kinda cute actually but spelled issues for your plans. A close-knit group like this - especially so fast - only meant it was going to be harder to work your way in. Sure, Angel hung out with you for the past hour and you had a great time, but that was just surface level stuff. You were going to need to dig deeper.

“No! Nobody look at me,” Husk grumbled from a few seats down. “That machine is a nightmare.” He motioned to the silver espresso machine sitting on the corner countertop behind you.

It looked brand new, barely been touched! A machine like that probably cost hundreds and they weren’t using it?

“I’m sorry.” Charlie frowned from her place by the fridge. “We’ve had it for a while and no one can figure it out. Husk took a look at it last and although he tried, we got nowhere. Nifty bought beans for it and everything…”

A small smile found your lips, “Mind if I take a look?”

“Goodluck with that kiddo, that machine is cursed,” Husk buried his head in his arms, the orange juice in front of him bubbling with alcohol - which you would guess was more booze than orange at how much of his flask you saw him pouring into it earlier.

Seems like everyone knows, as no one glanced his way when it happened, but no one seemed to mind his drinking habits this early in the morning. Most likely a recurrent behavior then…

Husk was an old soul, probably the oldest one in this room. The cat had a history of gambling debts which mysteriously disappeared one day - the day he fell from power. You didn’t know the exact details but you heard it wasn’t pretty afterwards. The Vees swooped in pretty fast and gobbled up what remained of the fallen Overlord’s territory. It’s part of the reason they are where they are now. You wondered if the others knew about him? Maybe, seeing as how he’s found himself at the hotel built on second chances.

Taking the beans from Nifty, you quickly check over the machine. It’s a simple Breville Barista model, nothing too top of the line, but still a commercial appliance.

You wonder who they sent out on the errand to get this because they clearly had no idea what they were getting. This thing was meant for a high end coffee chain, to be used for hours straight, not sitting in a run down hotel’s kitchen. Regardless, you knew the model and how to use it.

Preheating the machine, you fill the grinder with beans before asking, “Hey Husk, pick your poison.”

He blinks at you a few times before answering. “Double espresso.”

Simple enough.

Clicking a single wall basket into the portafilter, you fill the metal device with ground beans before tapping it flat. Sliding it into the machine with a click, you grab two shot glasses and watch as the brew fills to the line, the fresh scent of chocolate, caramel, and nuts fill the kitchen. You pour both into a white glass and send it down the table to Husk who sits dumbfounded at the end of the kitchen. In fact, everyone had stopped eating completely to watch you work.

Anxiety bubbles in your stomach as you count the eyes boring into you.

Oh, fuck. You drew too much attention to yourself.

“Fuck, kid. This is good.” Husk chirps from the end of the table, having taken his first sip. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

“I worked at a cafe just outside Cannibal Town when I first got here,” you rub the back of your neck, an uncomfortable laugh escaping your lips. “They had a machine just like this, but far bigger.”

That was true. After you fell, you were set up with a place to stay and a job at the local coffee shop which sat inbetween Cannibal Town and the border zone. It didn’t only serve certain… appetites, but was meant for a wider audience. You served everything from finger cakes (yes, fingers in the cakes) to bagels and cream cheese alongside the coffee creations.

“Oooh, Cannibal Town. This kid’s got bite,” Angel laughs. “I didn’t know you swung that way.” The spider demon shovels another pile of eggs onto his plate. He ate a lot.

“Oh, no. Not really, I just happened to… land there.” Technically you weren’t lying.

That first day in Hell was brutal. You smacked into cement face first, a pile of blood and broken bones. Luckily the streets weren’t crowded, and you were found and taken care of before anyone even noticed.

“So you just stayed in Cannibal Town for fun?” Vaggie didn’t look impressed. In fact, she looked suspicious - ever the hypervigilant soldier she was designed to be.

“Well…” There it was, the rubbing on the back of your neck again. By the end of today, your skin was going to be raw.

God, why was this so much easier with a mask on?

“Hey!” Charlie cut in, clearly sensing your discomfort. “You don’t have to tell us.” She cups your hands within her own. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters. We can get to know you at your own pace. Don’t push yourself. Okay?”

You offer her a sweet smile.

Wow, the Princess was really buying your act - or lack thereof, by how anxious this job was making you.

“Now, do you know how to make a cappuccino?” She motioned back to the machine. You silently thanked her for the change in conversation.

A genuine smile formed on your lips, “what kind of milk?”

The rest of the brunch passed quickly after you showed off your artistic masterpiece that was to become Vaggie’s coffee. The Princess ordered the beverage for her girlfriend, and after making a butterfly out of the milk atop the bubbles everyone else quickly got in line and ordered their own.

It didn’t bother you, in fact it made you more comfortable. You got to observe their behavior and interactions as a silent third party noting the ways in which they teased each other.

Husk could be a grump but you got the sense that he was a big softie. You couldn’t tell if Angel was actually flirting with the cat demon or just pushing his buttons, either way, the barkeep slunked out, flask in hand, with red cheeks.

When the chair started rattling, Nifty was prohibited from drinking anymore caffeine. She put up a pretty good fight but as soon as she saw a bug, she took off after it, needle in hand.

Angel returned to the couch, face in his phone, clearly stressed about something.

After helping with the dishes - Charlie protested but you insisted - she invited you to join the three of them by the fire where you had found them earlier that morning. You didn’t really have anything else to do, other than to try and win over the Hotel natives.

You could go hide in your room - the Lord knows your social meter needed the break. The group was welcoming but was… a lot. Especially Charlie, but the Princess and Vaggie had questions about the commercial and how Sinners were handling the recent date change for the Extermination. You shrugged and offered whatever you could - which wasn’t a lot.

“They’re desperate,” you answered.

“That’s right, they’re desperate. Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape the Extermination,” Vaggie smiled, smacking her fist against her hand.

“Worked for me,” you shrugged, watching Angel from the corner of your eye.

Your heart melted a little for the spider demon. Valentino was known to be ruthless and manipulative - and the way he treated women… It was why you never took a job from the Overlord, let alone gave him a card. In fact, none of the Vees had your card. You didn’t like them, but you didn’t need to see how it affected Angel to decide that.

“This would be a perfect time to recruit more Sinners for the Hotel! We should get more rooms ready!” Charlie beamed. Of course she would find a way to spin this into something good.

“Cute idea and all, but are you really gonna go out in all this?” Angel turns his phone around, videos of the Doomsday Distract flash across the screen.

It was pretty chaotic, but when was that place not on fire?

“Well, it’s not like all Sinners are going to show up on our doorstep like Thestral did.” Charlie offered, motioning to you.

She wasn’t wrong…

BOOM!

Ah, perfect timing, Princess.

The entire Hotel rocked as dust and debris filled the foyer burning your lungs and eyes.

“Show yourself, Alassstor!” A voice echoed from outside.

The four of you ran to the now collapsed wall, veering into the streets to get a better look. Husk simply rolled his eyes and took another drink.

He was used to this?

Floating above the cobblestone streets was a yellow blimp equipped with an army of… eggs?

“Who are you?” A voice chimed from above, but it was… different - static-y…

“Who am I? Who am I?! I am the great Ssssssir Pentiousssss!” Deep within the zeppelin stood a black and yellow snake at the helm. He was dressed to the nines in army regalia.

Hmm, Sir Pentious? Had you heard of him before? You wracked your brain trying to think but nothing immediately came of mind. He had resources - clearly Carmilla Carmine supplies him by the brand on the metal - but was he a threat? He did put a hole through the building.

You spun studying his dirty work.

A missile? Sloppy, but still a step up from the lowest rung of demon.

“Inventor, architect of dessstruction, villain extraordinaire!” The snake twirls his arms, gesturing to himself and his work.

You scoff. Yeah right…

“Ooh you tell 'em boss!” The eggs chime.

What the fuck…? The eggs are sentient? Now that’s kind of interesting.

Testing the waters, you let an invisible finger of power slip from you and slither over to the zeppelin. It poked and prodded till it found a way through the metal before coming to rest by the snake demon’s tail. Gently, you caressed his form, searching for the power his soul possessed.

Yes, he definitely still had his soul, but from what you gathered - or rather, lack of what you gathered - this demon was no more a threat than a mosquito was to an elephant. But a better question was, what brought him here?

A chime of static fills the air, like little bolts of electricity, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

What the…?

You spin, checking behind you to find the source of the static snaking its way down your spine, but no one was there.

Charlie yelps, bringing your attention back to the group, as a trail of shadow crawls between her feet, giving way to a demon in red materializing from the darkness.

How did he do that?

The demon’s back was to you, his attention fully on the blimp. You didn’t recognize his silhouette. His deer ears, hooves, and antlers were pretty iconic, but you didn’t know any demon like that. He wasn’t a Hellborn, his profile didn’t fit any of the creatures Hell bred. So a Human Sinner then?

The demon stood before you, a red suit complete with red-tipped black boots, and black slacks. His jacket was long, ending at his knees. The hair atop his head was cut cleanly, red and tipped in black, and tousled ever so perfectly.

Yeah, you had no idea who this guy was. Which did not sit well with you.

Nifty materializes on his shoulder. When had she slipped out here? “Ooh, he’s a bad boy,” the tiny demon sings.

Okay then…

The demon lifts her from his person and drops her gently onto the cement. “Ha, well if all that's true, you'd think I'd have heard of you!”

His voice isn’t just static, it’s like a radio?

The snake drops his smile. “I attacked you literally last week.”

The red demon cocks his head.

“We've done battle, like... 20 times.”

The demon brings both hands to his staff. No, that’s not right, microphone? “Well, you must have been really bad at this.”

You snort, but do your best to stifle the giggle into your palm.

The demon stiffens. You swear you see his shadow elongate in your direction. A trick of the light? An hallucination? You look to Angel for direction but he’s too busy watching the interaction, clearly entertained.

“Silence! Now cower! For when I've ssslain you, the almighty Vees will finally acknowledge me as their equal.”

Nifty reappears on the demon’s shoulder, garnering his attention. “Ooh! Wait, who are the Vees?”

“Oh, nobody important,” the red demon sings.

Nobody important, eh? For someone to so easily dismiss the Vees like that they’d have to either be stupid or think themselves more powerful - in both cases, they’re stupid. I agree, independently, the Vees are more annoying than anything. One by one they weren’t a threat, but all three together…

Testing a theory, you let that tendril of power sneak from your core, and just as you had Sir Pentious, you let it slither to the base of the demon’s shoes. Delicately prodding…

SMACK!

A slap hits your power so hard it sends your head spinning. You fall backwards into Angel who wraps his arms under your shoulders to steady you.

“You okay, toots?” Angel whispers in your ear, your vision spinning.

Holy shit.

It was either the sheer force of the blow or the dizziness in its wake, but you swore you saw faces laughing at you in the shadows.

“Uh,” you shake your head, willing the sting to subside.

Jesus, what was that? You’ve never had a reaction like that before…

“I think so?” You find your feet. “Just all the excitement… Caught me off guard.” You give him a fake laugh. He shrugs it off.

What the fuck…?

The next thing you know, Charlie’s grip is on your arm. “I promise it’s not always like this!”

From the corner of your eye, you see Vaggie shake her head. “Yes it is..” she grumbles before swearing under her breath in… Spanish?

Patting Charlie’s arm, you assure her that it doesn’t bother you. That Cannibal Town - and anywhere else in Pentagram City for that matter - were far worse than this place. Which was true. The only place you could get any peace and quiet was the Wrath Ring - way out in the country. Not that you’d been to the Wrath Ring… Technically…

The attention is finally turned away from you when an array of tendrils shoots from the red demon’s form. They descend upon the blimp, shredding it to pieces. The eggs spark into a panic as their helmsman desperately shouts commands.

Maniac laughs bubble in the demon’s chest as he slowly gets to work. It takes a moment before you realize it, but he isn’t taking his time because he has to, he’s doing it to toy with the snake demon. He enjoys the destruction.

You watch as the tension in the demon’s shoulder slowly diminishes with each attack. The pure enjoyment brings a small smile to your lips.

So this guy enjoys chaos just as much as you do, huh?

“Um… Alastor!”

Ah, so this is the famous Mr. Alastor?

The Princess slowly approaches the demon, but it isn’t fear you smell wafting off her person, it’s… anxiety? “I think he’s had enough.”

Vaggie is on Charlie’s heels in an instant, her hands flying to her back to summon her spear just in case.

So little Ms. Morningstar wasn’t afraid of him, but Vaggie sure as Hell doesn’t trust him. Interesting.

“Nah. He’s got a few more hits in him.” Angel crosses his arms, clearly entertained by the onslaught. Despite the chaotic scene before us, his eyes occasionally flit to the red demon - keeping him within eyesight.

Hmm, Angel didn’t trust him either.

You take a step forward but Angel pulls you back, shaking his head.

The snake demon falls from the zeppelin, landing face first with a smack on the pavement. You couldn’t help but grimace. That had to hurt.

Alastor twirls his staff - microphone? - as an egg falls and breaks into pieces at Charlie’s feet.

“Thanks for another forgettable experience!” He sings.

Okay, that you do laugh at. This guy was pretty witty, you had to give it to him.

The four Hotel Natives shoot you a look of disbelief as you giggle into your hand. Looking between you and the red demon, fear slowly etching across their brows.

Alastor’s shoulders stiffen as he turns, finding the source of giggles rumbling through your chest. His smile is pulled taut across his cheek, but the look he gives you… it wasn’t confusion necessarily swimming behind his eyes, more so like he didn’t know what to think.

The giggles die down as your cheeks heat under his gaze.

Was he not used to people finding him funny?

“Thank you… For letting your guard down!” The snake’s tail whips forward and rips the corner of Alastor’s suit from his person. A small chunk of fabric gives way. “Aha! Yah!” The snake celebrates before noticing the purely demonic smile overcoming the red demon’s face. “Oh, shit…”

The red demon’s antlers grow as an aura of green overtakes the atmosphere. From his microphone an explosion of green bursts through, sending the snake demon flying across Pentagram City.

Hmm… Why didn’t he just kill him? He’s just gonna come back. The mosquitos always do.

“Well, it looks as though I need a visit to the tailor!” The demon inspects his jacket. Despite his jovial attitude, you could see the irritation in his eyebrows.

A mask. This demon was wearing a mask.

Finally, now that the chaos was over, you had a chance to inspect the red demon. He must have felt your eyes on him, for when he finally looked up, his gaze was locked with yours. Your cheeks heated under the pressure of his gaze. His eyes, glowing like red crystal in direct sunlight, made your legs feel heavy and your chest tight.

Was it getting harder to breathe or was it just you? Are you… Are you intimidated right now? No. You’ve never been intimidated by a demon in your life. Angels maybe, but never a Human Sinner. What was wrong with you?

“And who might this be?” Your heart fluttered at the purr in his voice.

Twirling his microphone behind his back, he took a step towards you, standing tall at his full height. He had to be an entire foot taller than you, now cast in his shadow. It felt eerily colder in the shade, but there was something else there too. An extra presence you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

The demon was dressed to the nines. His red suit perfectly tailored to his form. It splayed out around his hips, accentuating a waist line supporting a broad chest. His hair was cropped short around his angular face, his eyes half-lidded as they bore into you. The red of his irises practically glowing. He was a classy demon, clearly not of this century. He regarded you with a sense of curiosity - an aura of green still lingered, however. It was meant to intimidate you, not necessarily threaten you.

Okay, this guy thinks he’s tough shit, huh?

Before Charlie had a chance to intervene, you thrust your arm forward, meeting his eyes, not backing down to his overwhelming sense of self importance.

“Thestral, pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Alastor.” You offer him a soft smile.

You took the shift of stiffness in his shoulders to mean that you had made the wrong move. This was a demon who carried himself quite highly - probably used to lesser demons cowering in his presence, not laughing at his jokes or meeting his eyeline let alone offering their hand first. At that, he didn’t know what to make of you, which made you dangerous. Which made you a target of interest.

Shit.

Day one and you’re already fucking up the whole “lay low” part of the plan.

“Oh, darling, you flatter me,” he takes your hand. “Just Alastor will do.”

A shiver rolls down your spine as the tips of his claws scrape across your skin, so sharp they could cut flesh. They probably have, but you weren’t worried. He couldn’t hurt you anyway. Not really.

“Well, ‘Just Alastor,’ thank you for the entertainment.” You cross both arms behind your back mimicking his stance. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Angel’s jaw drop.

“Of course! I live to please! I’m not the Hotel Manager for nothing!” There it is again, a small shift in his body language. He didn’t know what to make of your lack of fear.

The static is interrupted by a laugh track, sounding as if from a live studio audience - from a radio.

“So does that mean you’re going to do you’re job?” Vaggie takes a step forward, motioning to the half destroyed wall of the Hotel.

“Of course! Can’t let my new project fall into disrepair already! What would the papers say?” With a snap of his fingers, black ink demons appear with construction tools.

Five. Five faceless demons. Which means he owns at least five souls. But that was not nearly enough power to equate to the destruction you had just witnessed.

By the time you turn back to him, he’s already strolling down the cobblestone path and off into Pentagram City. You couldn’t help still feeling watched, however, like the sensation of his red eyes still on your form, but nowhere to be found.

You spun but again, no one was watching you.

“Word of advice, stay away from him,” Vaggie crosses her arm in Charlie’s, ready to lead her back inside.

“Yeah, Hairclip,” Angel Dust appears behind you, poking at the silver metal in your hair. “You got a lot of balls on you to stand up to that one.”

“What does that mean?” You scrunch your nose in confusion.

“Well…” Charlie takes a step forward, touching the tips of her fingers together with anxiety. “Alastor can be a little…”

Before she has a chance to respond, Vaggie and Angel offer suggestions.

“Creepy.”

“Unpredictable.”

“Insane.”

“Murderous.”

“Bloodthirsty.”

“Aren’t those basically the same thing?” Angel shrugs.

“He’s a bad boy,” Nifty chirps by your ankle.

Where did she come from?

“Temperamental,” Charlie offers with an awkward smile.

Why did that not feel like a compromising adjective?

“The point is, Alastor is dangerous. It would be best not to poke and prod him too much,” Vaggie runs a hand through her ridiculously long hair, huffing.

Poke and prod… Shit! Shit! Shit! That force I felt slap my power away earlier, was that him? Did he know it was me? No! No! No! This wasn’t good. This was anything but good.

The blood melted from your face.

“Hey toots, you don’t look so good. Maybe we should get ya’ back inside?” Angel’s arm comes to rest on your shoulder, leading you towards the doors. “Don’t sweat it too much. He’s harmless as long as you’re not a threat. He won’t lay a finger on ya’, we won’t let him. Right gurls?”

“Right.” They chime as you made your way through the double doors.

This job just got a lot more complicated…

SCREECH!

“What the fuck is that?” Husk yells from behind the bar, his claws over his ears.

The television by the fireplace hisses, having turned itself on.

“Welcome home!” The box sang. “I’m going to make you wish that you stayed gone!”

The screen jumped through a few stations of fuzz before settling on a news broadcast. Vox, the media demon, sat behind a reporter’s desk, going on and on about… the Radio Demon?

As if in response, the radio in the foyer screams to life, making the five of you jump.

“Salutations! Good to be back on the air!” You recognized the old timey voice as Alastor’s.

“What the fuck is goin’ on!?”Angel screamed over the noise.

Vaggie ran over to the television and ripped the cord out of the wall. No good, the television continued to flash images of Vox screaming as if he could hear and respond to Alastor’s radio.

The Exorcist fisted the cord in frustration before pulling her spear from the Void. Charlie stopped her, however, preventing her from destroying the only piece of real technology in this building besides the coffee maker.

The Hotel Natives and you were subjected to the torture that was Alastor’s and Vox’s tantrum, until finally, they both shut down.

“Holy Jesus, what the fuck was all that about?” Angel screamed, his ears ringing from the noise.

“Fucking Vox and his ego,” Husk grumbled from the bar. The cat poured himself a drink.

“Ahhhhhh!” A eardrum splitting scream pierced the air, making you all, yet again, jump and cover your ears. Vaggie ran to the radio and shut it off rescuing whatever was left of your hearing from… well, whatever the fuck that was.

“Was that part of Alastor’s bit?” Angel asked the room.

No one answered, for no one knew the answer. Seems Alastor is a big mystery around here.

“Drink anyone?” Husk raised a bottle of whiskey in question.

Fuck, after that you needed one. Silently cursing yourself for your lack of thoroughness in your research, you joined the bar cat.

You huffed as you sat on the stool.

“You good?” Husk asked, pulling out a menu.

“Yeah,” you rubbed your temples, willing the forming headache away. “Just a lot of homework to do.”

____________________________________________

It was late, the sky turning towards darkness as opposed to its usual red light.

The Greed Ring always smelled like metal to you. Not copper, like blood, but like the cold steel of coins. You weren’t in the Greed Ring, of course. Sinners couldn’t travel out of Pride - technically. Yet the stench clung to them nevertheless.

You landed at the bottom of the cement path leading to the mansion, outside the gates.

Normally your meetups were discreet, often conducted in the shadows of terraces, rooftops, or alleyways. Oh so rarely did people invite you inside.

But not this time. This employer loved appearances so much so that he rented out a mansion on the edge of town just for this: a meeting that would last five, ten minutes tops. The vanity of Greed…

The demons next to you jumped as black smoke began to curl away revealing a hooded figure.

“I believe I am expected,” a deep voice growled from beneath the fabric. Concealed in shadow, the shark demons opened the gate to let you pass, their guns shaking in their hands. Nearing the door, another set of demons stepped to the side, their eyes filled with fear.

Ugh, how you so enjoyed the scent of terror as it wafted in waves from their forms. Pathetic, honestly.

You found Crimson sitting before his fire, a glass of whiskey in hand, his hat set on the table next to him. The imp rubbed the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb, clearly it had been a long day. The servant standing next to him, whiskey bottle and towel in hand, leans down to alert him of your presence.

“Huh? What?” The crime lord jumps to his feet. “Already!?” He lets out a joyous laugh, before finding his hat and setting it between his horns.

Out of the corner of your eye, the waiter slinks from the room. The liquid in the whiskey bottle jostling as he shakes in fear.

“Chaz is swimming with the fishes already, aye!?” Both hands grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket, he stands before you, offering you a seat at the end of the table. Sliding into the head chair, he offers you a drink, which you refuse of course.

He takes a long sip of his whiskey, letting the burn sink in before continuing. “Did he suffer?”

You frowned. No questions. He knew this. That was part of the deal. It was always part of the deal.

“Ah, come on, can’t fault a guy for trying?” He laughs, but you aren’t amused.

As if on cue, a shark demon enters the room, dropping a suitcase onto the table before skittering out of the room. Crim opens the case and turns it towards you to reveal fat stacks of cash lining the case’s bottom.

“It’s all there, I assure you.” He lights a cigar and leans back in his chair. “Pentagram City currency, not the Native stuff.”

You ignore the money. You knew it was all there. You knew none of the bills were traceable. Crim was a pro when it came to moving money around. You didn’t have to worry about covering your tracks from this job like the last ones. Honestly, you didn’t deal in money that often. Your trade was in souls, but Crimson was a Hellborn, and head of a mafia gang at that. You’ve never done business with a Hell Native, so you were hoping your reputation was enough of a threat to keep him quiet.

But, the money wasn’t why you took this case.

You narrowed your eyes at him, knowing he could see their yellow glow - the only part of your face anyone ever saw - before slipping a black gloved hand from your cloak. His eyes find your fingers, uncurled before him expectantly, as the scent hits your nose.

Fear.

You knew this diphsit wasn’t stupid enough not to be afraid of you. Was it the sight of your claws? Or the red still staining the leather?

“Right. Right.” He dug into the hidden pocket of his jacket, producing an obsidian calling card. The flames from the fire flicker across its metal surface as he holds it out to you.

Finally, you had won this card back. It had taken forever to track it down after the last person you entrusted it with lost it in a game of cards. Of all the things to wager! You’d have killed the demon, but senseless death wasn’t part of your repertoire.

The card disappeared from the Pride Ring soon after, passing amongst the hands of Hell as it made its way downwards. It eventually became useless, a piece of metallic junk which eventually landed in Crimson’s hand. He figured out what it was, of course he would. He had eyes and ears everywhere - even in the Sinner’s Ring. So when he appeared in Pride a week ago and summoned you in the dead of night you knew you had to do whatever you could to get the calling card back.

Even if it meant taking down a low level mark and solving some petty personal drama. The calling card now safely tucked away in the leather of your shirt, you stood and made your way to the door.

“Ain’t you gonna take the money?” Crim motioned to the suitcase still sitting open on the table.

With a flick of your wrist the case closed, locked itself, and slipped into the Void.

As you exited the room you could hear the imp demon call out after you, “Pleasure doing business with yous!”

Crim was known to be a man of his word, or he’d soon find himself a dead man…

Link to Chapter Two!

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

#alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor shadow #smut

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togrowoldinv · 1 year

Text

The Sweetest Con

Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

When you are put in charge of the volleyball team, you have a very interesting set of interactions with a mother at the church

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, fingering, etc.

Note: Milf Wanda hehe. This is inspired by Lizzie in the Love and Death trailer. Enjoy!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

When you were asked to spearhead the volleyball league, you accepted immediately. You’d been looking for a way to get more involved and volleyball was the perfect inlet.

The first few practices went well. You had a good amount of players, but there was one player in particular that caught your eye.

Wanda Maximoff. The gorgeous woman is an absolute born athlete. She’s captivating as she makes perfect passes and hits like she’s been doing it her whole life.

After practice today, you decide to ask Wanda to stay afterwards.

“What’s up, coach?” She says the last word with a silly grin on her face.

“I’m assuming you grew up playing ball,” you say.

She nods. “I played at the middle and high school’s here, yes.”

“Me too. I’m surprised coach never talked about you.”

“Oh, well I am a bit older than you, honey,” Wanda says. The term makes your heart skip a beat.

“Right, yeah,” you agree, feeling a little flustered as you watch her take a drink of water.

You should not be watching the way her neck looks as she sips the water.

“I have to be getting home to my kids. I’ll see you next week?” Wanda asks.

“See you next week, Wanda.”

You watch as the woman walks away. Her shorts hug her just right and you internally scold yourself for checking her out in a church. And you’re pretty sure she’s married.

The next week does nothing to ease your crush. One of the players can’t make it, so you sub in and scrimmage with the team.

Wanda remains the captain of the A team and you let her do her thing.

It’s down to set point when you and Wanda both go for a ball. You both dive onto the floor and collide with each other. Wanda ends up underneath you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Wanda,” you tell her. Her arms are pinned to her side and your entire lower bodies are touching. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she says with a chuckle. Her eyes seemingly glance to where your breasts rest over her.

You stand up and hold a hand out for her to take. She takes it and you lift her off the ground. Wanda smiles at you before she returns to her position.

Your team wins the scrimmage and everyone cheers.

Wanda calls after you before you can leave the gym. “I’m having everyone over to my house if you want to come,” she tells you. “It’s a Bible study slash team get together.”

You’re proud of the way the team is bonding.

“I’m there,” you tell her. “I just need to get changed.”

“Alrighty. It’s casual,” she says. “We’ll see you there.”

You go home and get ready for Wanda’s get together. Thinking about her calling it casual, you slip on some pants and a button up shirt. Maybe you leave one extra button than you should undone.

When you get to Wanda’s house, there are people in the yard throwing a football around and you notice her husband grilling.

“Y/n, glad you made it!” Another player, Monica, greets you.

“Hey y’all,” you greet everyone.

You walk inside to greet everyone else and that’s when you see Wanda in the kitchen. She’s hard at work, but when she sees you she stops in her tracks.

“Hey Wanda,” you say. Her eyes fall directly to the open buttons of your shirt.

“Nice to see you,” she comes back to reality to say.

“Do you need any help?”

“You can help Natasha grab the ice,” Wanda says. You nod.

You see the redhead waiting by the door for you to join her. Natasha leads you outside and you two spark up a conversation.

You like Natasha. She’s not like the other stuffy church members and you’re pretty sure she’s dating her friend Maria.

For most of the evening, Wanda is running around and doing her host duties. Before you leave though, you decide to go find her and say your thanks for the invite.

You find her inside tucking her sons in. Respecting her space, you stand in the hallway a few steps from the bedroom. But Wanda knows you’re there.

She kisses her boys goodnight and comes into the hallway.

“Hey, sorry I just wanted to say thank you for the invite,” you say quietly.

She takes your hand and pulls you into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. Wanda sits on the edge of her bed and invites you to join her. You sit a respectable distance away from her.

“I’m glad you came,” Wanda says.

“Of course, yeah. I wish we could’ve talked more tonight,” you admit.

“Me too, y/n. I’d really like to get to know you better.”

She looks you over again and you feel a chill up and down your spine. Wanda scoots a little closer. Your eyes glance down to her lips.

“I’ll see you next week, Wanda,” you break the silence, knowing this is nothing but a bad idea.

“Yeah, okay,” Wanda says, a slight pout to her voice.

You leave her there in the bedroom and go back home. For the entirety of the next week, you think about how Wanda seemed disappointed that you ended that moment at the get together.

Wanda shows up early for practice this week. You’re sitting in your makeshift office when Wanda comes through the gym doors.

“Hey, I’m in here,” you call out to her.

“Hey, I was just going to hit the ball around a bit before practice.” She stands at your office door.

“Okay, great,” you say. But she doesn’t move. “Is everything okay, Wanda?”

“Yes,” Wanda says, but then she steps in and shuts the door behind her. “No.”

“No? If this is something with the team, we can talk about-“

“It’s something with you, actually,” Wanda says.

“Oh.”

Wanda walks to your side of the desk and leans against it. You look up at her from your chair. Her legs threaten to cloud your mind completely as they flex against the desk.

“Do you like me?” Wanda asks, her lips are turned into a pout.

“Of course I like you, Wanda,” you say nervously. “We’re friends.”

“No, not like that,” she says.

“Like what then?”

“Forget it,” Wanda mumbles.

She tries to leave, but you stand up and grab her hand. Turning her around, you pull her close but stop inches from her lips.

“Tell me you want this,” you say to her.

“I want this so bad,” Wanda says. “I’ve wanted you since the day I met you.”

You take her face in your hands and kiss her soft lips. Her hands pull you closer with one on your hip and one on your neck.

Wanda turns her head to deepen the kiss and you allow her to take control. She kisses you until you’re both breathless.

“Fuck, I’ve never done that before,” Wanda says.

“Kissed a woman?” You ask. She hums in agreement and kisses you again. “So you definitely haven’t been fucked by a woman?”

“No,” she says against your lips.

“And you’d like to?”

“God yes,” Wanda says.

You smirk against her lips and move your hands under her shirt. She gasps as you take the material over her head. You kiss her neck and she moans when you bite her softly.

“Harder,” she says.

You take her instructions and bite her harder as you slip your hands down her stomach to her waistband. Slipping off her shorts, you admire her lacy panties.

“Fuck Wanda, you’re not such an innocent church girl are you?” You say. Her knees buckle, but you hold her up.

“Please fuck me,” Wanda says.

You slip off her sports bra and her panties. When your lips go to her nipples, you can tell she hasn’t felt this sensation before.

“Oh god,” Wanda moans out as your tongue circles her nipples.

You slip your hand down to her center to be met with her wet folds.

“All of this is for me?” You ask her.

“Yes, honey, yes,” Wanda says.

“You’re so wet, Wanda. Does fucking me here turn you on that much?”

Wanda nods and her eyes close in pleasure as you slip your finger into her.

“Fuck you take it so well, Wanda.”

Her head falls onto your shoulder as you add a couple more fingers and slip in and out just as she needs.

“God, this feels so good,” Wanda moans against you. She lifts her head to look you in the eyes. Her mouth is parted slightly and you kiss her perfect lips.

“Come for me, Wanda,” you tell her. She keeps the eye contact as her hips shake and she lets out the prettiest moans you’ve ever heard. “Good girl.”

It’s quiet as Wanda comes down from her high. You kiss her neck and cheeks as her breathing resumes.

“You gotta get dressed, babe,” you tell her, noticing the time.

“But you didn’t-“

“We can finish this later,” you say. You hold her cheeks in your hand and admire the way she’s so flushed. “We have to practice right now.”

“I wanted to make you feel this good,” Wanda says. “Or at least try.” She adds shyly.

“Oh you could definitely make me feel good, Wanda. You already have,” you tell her. She smiles. “But I’m perfectly fine with pleasing you first.”

“Oh, okay,” she says. You can tell she’s not been told that before.

You kiss her deeply and she chases after your lips even once you’ve pulled away. Reluctantly, she gets dressed. But before she leaves your office, you pull her in for a hug and kiss her forehead.

“Do you have plans after practice?” You ask her.

“I do now,” Wanda says with a smirk.

She takes the initiative to kiss you this time before she straightens her shirt and walks out of your office.

Wanda Maximoff is definitely your standout player and the woman you can’t help but be captivated by.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff #milf!wanda #Elizabeth Olsen

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ellecdc · 8 months

Note

hear me out - a remus fic but set in come back be here, like maybe a muggle and remus is instantly smitten but has no idea how to navigate but everyone is pushing for him to actually go for it and it’s just chaos but in the best way possible… regardless come back be here was AMAZING

CBBH Remus x muggle!barista gn!reader

(Pretend they have phones for this okay? Thank you lol)

CW: just fluff, swearing, self deprecation, making a fool of oneself - you know, the remus lupin special

Remus would describe himself as many things.

He was a wizard. He was a werewolf. He was a business owner. He was an uncle. He was a friend. He was a war hero.

He was also, apparently, a coward.

He knows this to be true because he’s sat in the same spot that he’s been haunting all week – a chair in the far back corner of the café – pretending to look over ledgers in his notebook while he actually watches you work.

It’s fucking pathetic, is what it was.

He watched as you smiled politely at every customer in line – even the ones who weren’t as polite to you as Remus thought they ought to be.

He felt silly, really, watching you like a creep. He shouldn’t be here to begin with. He had stumbled upon this café completely by accident two weeks ago whilst in the city to pick up more muggle literature to add to his bookstore on Diagon Alley.

It was here he saw you, as if you were a siren calling him to this sodding caffeinated inlet to damn him to hell.

What a willing victim he was.

But he shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t get caught up with you. It was unthinkable. Most witches and wizards would have a hard time coming to terms with someone like, well, someone like him.

He was a burden. A risk.

It was selfish to think he could entertain the thought of you.

Suddenly, as if she’d known he was talking poorly of himself, his phone buzzed.

Remus tried to steal himself as he took a deep breath.

Right Lupin, you’ve done scarier things before. He thought to himself. You’ve run with wolves, you’ve gone undercover into enemy bases, you’ve deceived the dark lord right in front of his slimy fucking face, and you’ve even told Sirius once you thought his hair looked weird. By all means, you can talk to a barista.

Except...well...he really kind of couldn’t talk to a barista. He had made it all the way to the counter, even smiled politely at you as he stepped up to the cash register and...

And then words left him. Failed him. Completely abandoned him. He even thinks there may be a little stickie note in his brain that says ‘resignation effective immediately’ where words should be because he’s staring right at you with your gorgeous eyes and lovely hair and perfect features and for fuck sakes why isn’t he saying anything!?!?!

“Is there something I can get for you?” You asked so sweetly like this bloke wasn’t standing with his mouth agape at your cash register making a sure and utter fool of himself; like you had all the time in the world for the poor bastard.

“Uhm, uh...” He tried finally as if only now realizing he had functioning vocal chords.

“Uhm, fuck, I’m so sorry uhm...”

You chuckled at him. Holy shit you chuckled at him. It was the most beautiful sound Remus thinks he may have ever heard. He hoped you’d do it again, though, at the rate he’s going it was really very likely.

“I’m so sorry. I swear I’m not usually like this. Uh,” He apologized awkwardly as he scratched the back of his neck.

“I hope this isn’t too forward, but I think you’re lovely and would, uh, like to get to know you. You don’t have to say anything now!” He interrupted as you began to interject. “In fact, for my pride's sake, I’d prefer if you didn’t. But I’d like to leave my number here for you, in case you’d like to text me some time.”

He offered you the kindest smile he could muster as you took the now crumpled and sort-of-damp-from-his-sweaty-palms note in your hand with a smile of your own.

Now, Remus wouldn’t say he ran out of the café, per se. He would describe it as more of a jaunt, or perhaps a brisk walk. But he did nearly take out a woman with a pram as he all but flung the door open in his haste to get away.

You stupid ridiculous bastard. He scolded himself as he made his way to the closest apparition point. If Sirius could see you know, you’d never hear the end of it.

His phone buzzed and Remus nearly dropped it in his haste thinking it might be Sirius having somehow actually seen what just took place.

Then he nearly dropped it again as he saw a new text from an unknown number.

Perhaps Remus wasn’t such a coward after all.

#marauders come back be here #come back be here one shot #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #moony #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #Remus Lupin ficlet #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #reader insert #self insert #ellecdc fics

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beefscrap · 11 days

Note

The gang panicking bc they gatta take care of an actual hatchling?

This wee lamb named Droplet is one of potential triplets. Her father is Nanook is Icewing and her mother Estuary the Seawing.

Her parents meet at the end of the story I have cooking. Inlet who is Droplets half sister, is full Ice. But during an attack on the village is sent out to sea by Nanook. Inlet washes up on Estuary’s island, where she takes Inlet in as her own.

Anyway, big adventure in middle blah blah blah. End, bio dad + adoptive mom meet and fall in love = TRIPLETS 😍😍

Deciding House roles. But what is a dog ?

This visual made me giggle I had to do it

#the gang #oc drawing request #tbofs drawing request #dumb doodle #wof oc #wings of fire #wof #wof art #wof oc art

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Text

The Aftermath || LN4 {11}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Lando just can't help himself, he's drawn to you even when he's supposed to leave you alone like the bachelorette party and before the wedding. Warnings: 18+ only, sexual themes, alcohol WC: 2.3k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

The day could not have been more perfect for sailing along the Côte d’Azur as a warm breeze tousled your hair and the bottomless mimosas kept coming. You couldn’t think of a better way to spend summer break, and it was only going to get better.

You were surrounded by friends, both old and new. You had been afraid of reconnecting with the people you had ignored in your grief but the fear of rejection had been created in your mind and they had welcomed you back, grateful to have your friendship once again. As were you.

“Thank you for organising this,” you said to Maria as she refilled your glass and her own.

“You’re welcome, chérie.”

The captain had anchored the boat in a quaint inlet so some of the girls could swim but you had opted to catch the sun on the deck with Pietra. You had grown quite close to Max’s girlfriend when she came to the races with him and it was nice to have another female in the garage with you. As good as Max’s company was, it wasn’t the same as a female companion.

“It’s not too late to hire a male stripper,” Pietra suggested as she toyed with the rainbow umbrella spinning around her glass.

“No offence, but have you seen my soon-to-be husband?” you laughed with a shake of your head. “No man can compete with him.”

“It’s a bachelorette party, it’s tradition.”

You rolled onto your stomach and sighed as the sun warmed your back. “Nothing about our relationship has been traditional, why start now.”

Your eyes drifted shut as you listened to your friends laughing and splashing, music playing from the speakers and the smile on your face never faded until the sound of an engine grew louder.

“Sorry, boys, this bay is taken, find your own,” Maria called out and you peeked up to see a speedboat pull up, Lando’s smile growing when he spotted you.

“Oops, power failure,” he replied as the engine shut off and Carlos tossed an anchor into the water so they didn’t drift away. “Law of the sea, you have to save us!”

Lando’s best man was the first to dive overboard and make his way to the boat while Pietra went to meet him.

“He just can’t help himself,” Maria chuckled as she settled into Pietra’s empty sun-lounger and took your glass. “Go on, he’s not here to see any of us.”

You dove into the tepid waters as Lando bombed off the front of the sleek speedboat before resurfacing closer and shaking his hair out, sprinkling you with water drops as he swam closer.

“Do you come here often?” he flirted as he pulled you against him and wrapped your legs around his waist.

You shrugged coyly. “Just with my boyfriend.”

“Ugh,” he complained, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “A gorgeous babe like you, of course you are taken. Is it serious?”

“Only enough to spend the rest of my life with him.”

You giggled as he nipped at your neck and pulled back with a smile. “Well, that’s a relief. I was totally prepared to dunk you if you said no.”

“Do you really want to start your honeymoon sleeping on the couch?”

His lips kissed down the line of your jaw before tracing his way back to your ear and admitting, “I don’t plan to be doing any sleeping, love.”

Your legs tightened around his waist in response and he chuckled knowingly as you asked, “Think anyone will notice if we disappear?”

“Yes. Do I care? No.” He was already paddling deeper into the water where the speedboat was anchored but a sharp whistle had you looking back to the yacht.

“Don’t even think about it, mate!” Max shouted with a finger pointed your way.

Carlos joined him at the edge of the yacht and reached into the pocket of his swim trunks with a laugh. “I got the keys, cabron!”

“Bastards,” Lando muttered under his breath. “I can’t get out of the water now.”

“It’s a shame the water isn’t a little colder.” You kissed him softly before pushing away with a smile you couldn’t suppress. “I’ll see you on deck when you…calm down.”

“You could help me,” he countered as he started swimming to catch up.

“The water is crystal clear, you perv,” you said as you looked back with a laugh. “I’m not getting arrested today because you got horny.”

“It’s your fault,” he pointed out, grabbing you to stop your retreat to the yacht and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I take one look at you and lose my mind.”

“You don’t make it any easier by doing this.” You wriggled in his arms to prove your point as he groaned as it rubbed your ass over the prominent bulge in his swim trunks. “In fact, you make it hard.”

“Good thing I have a human shield,” he chuckled as he continued to the yacht with you held firmly in front of him. “I can still sunbathe with you on top of me.”

“Are you sure you don’t want the big white wedding?” You had asked Lando plenty of times but it was the last opportunity for him to change his mind.

“I would’ve been happy to go to the courthouse last year, love,” he said with a laugh. “Plus, I’ve already stood with you in a church for all that before. I mean René was standing between us but…same diff.”

“Good,” you sighed in relief, “because it’s a little bit late.”

“Can you open the door now?”

You put your foot in front of it as the handle turned and you pressed your back to the cold wood so your hands were free to text Max to collect the wayward groom. “No, it’s bad luck!”

“Come on, mate, stop slipping your damn leash,” Max’s voice trickled through. “Leave the girl to get ready.”

“I just want to talk to my bride real quick. Would’ve seen more of her last night if it wasn’t for you.”

“Be lucky you got to gate crash the bachelorette party.”

“I would have got lucky, if it wasn’t for you.”

You tipped your ear to the crack of the door as you heard Lando complain about tripping over Max in the hallway and they both heard your laugh.

“Did you really sleep outside the bedroom door?” you asked.

“I take tradition seriously, thank you very much,” Max stated proudly. “And I knew this muppet wouldn’t be able to stop himself from finding his way to your bed.”

“I don’t sleep well without Y/N,” Lando murmured and he nearly fell into you as you suddenly opened the door.

Max threw his hands up with an exasperated groan as he saw you wrapping your arms around Lando but when you heard the longing in his voice you hadn’t been able to fight the urge to keep the door closed. He needed your comforting touch and you needed him.

“I got a crick in my neck for nothing now. I hope you’re happy.” Max took one look at Lando and he couldn’t help smiling at how awestruck his best friend was as he saw you in your wedding dress for the first time. With a clap on Lando’s back and a kiss to your cheek he retreated down the hall and gave you a moment alone with your husband-to-be.

“You look…whew,” Lando exhaled loudly. “Wow, I…”

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” you praised as you ran your fingers over the lapel of his suit and admired how perfect the tailoring was on him.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby,” he begged as he caught your hands slipping down his chest. “If I’m going to have you now, it’s going to be as your husband.”

You gently pushed back before you were too tempted to close the door and make the guests in the backyard wait. “Then what are you waiting for? Let’s go.”

When Lando said Daniel could be the celebrant you had thought he was joking. You couldn’t imagine the goofball, who never took anything seriously, being the one to lead you through your vows but he had taken the role seriously.

“How did you get your celebrants licence?” you had asked him when you found him the next day. “Why?”

He had grinned and sat back in the chair as he stared at the clouds overhead. “I love love. It’s beautiful to see and be a part of, so I thought why not. I can be more than just the class clown.”

You nodded at his sincere answer and leaned in. “Okay, good, ‘cause I could do with some help with my vows.”

The guests were spread across the back lawn admiring the petals and tea light candles that floated in the pool. Their light would only grow as the sunset later and the fairy lights would come on soon after when the party really began, but first you needed to gather the guests.

“Danny,” Lando called out the kitchen window and waved him inside, catching the attention of some of the curious guests. “A change of plans.”

“Okaaaay..?” he asked dubiously before you stepped into the kitchen too and he smiled brightly. “You look beautiful!”

“What about me?” Lando propped a hand on his hip and tossed his hair back. “I look good too.”

“Very dashing,” Danny laughed. “So what’s changed?”

“We want to start now. Everyone’s already here so just round ‘em up and skip to the good part.”

“The good part?”

“I do, she does too, you know, the good part.” Lando was growing more animated by the second, the excitement filling him from head to toe to the point he couldn’t keep from bouncing on them. “Can we?”

“It’s your wedding, bro,” Danny laughed, clapping him on the back. “You can do it however you want, or more accurately, as much as your girl lets you get away with.”

“I’m happy with whatever Lan wants,” you confirmed as the same excited energy began to flow into you and you knew it was time. “The sooner the better.”

“Alrighty then, follow me.” Daniel stepped out onto the back patio and stuck his fingers into his mouth to let out a piercing whistle that had everyone turning his way. “Ladies and gentlemen, come on, come on, gather round. I could do with a sheepdog to get the stragglers at the back.”

There was no separation between the groom’s guests or the bride’s, you considered them all family and it was only the closest people to you and Lando that had been invited to the intimate ceremony. The other F1 drivers and crew, the Quadrant members, Lando’s family and Maria, they all gathered closely at the bottom of the stairs waiting to hear what Danny had called them together for. The ceremony wasn’t meant to start for another half an hour.

“Since everyone’s here on time, which is a miracle in itself, these two want to crack on and sign their lives away,” Danny said, earning a round of laughs.

“Ready, love?” Lando asked as he slipped his hand into yours and lifted it to his lips.

With your free hand you reached for the necklace you had clasped around your neck that morning and ran your fingers over the metal band that hung upon it. Your finger felt naked without the wedding ring but when you woke up there had been a sense of clarity wash over you and you had slipped it off for the first time since it went on.

Removing the ring didn’t change your past and it didn’t erase the memories. Those would always be yours to keep no matter what the future held. But today was about making new memories and that would start with a blank space for the ring Lando was itching to slip on.

You let the necklace go and felt the ring settle over your racing heart. “I’m ready, are you?”

His smile grew but he didn’t answer with words as he stepped out onto the sundrenched patio and turned to watch you follow. You could see the future in his shimmering blue eyes, the promise of a life full of love and happiness. You could see it all as he waited for you to take the final step towards him.

“I love you,” he whispered, his eyes darting down to see your shoe peek out from the floor length dress as you took a step forward.

“I love you too.”

The air stilled as if the world took a breath and only you and Lando existed in the moment. It hung suspended like the fairy lights around the yard and you could have stared into his eyes for eternity but eternity would have to wait just a few more minutes.

Lando could sense the need and urgency to make your vows, to make him your and you his, as he pointed to Max. “Rings, rings, tell me you’ve got them.”

“Of course I’ve got them. What kind of best man do you think I am?” he said as he pulled the matching set from his breast pocket and placed them in your palms.

“The best,” Lando grinned before nodding to Danny. “The good part, yeah?”

“Someone’s a little eager,” Danny teased as he flipped through his folder to the last page.

“More than a little. I have been waiting for this moment all my life.” Lando turned to face you and shook his head like he still couldn’t believe he wasn’t dreaming. “Now would you please hurry up so I can call this angel my wife?”

Click here for chapter twelve.

Tagging: @yunnie-f1 @neiich @zendayabelova @stillbreathin @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alwaysclassyeagle @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @lightsoutletsgo @pleasantducktimetravel @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @holy-macncheese-balls @belennasif @ophcelia @love4lando @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19

#lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 imagine #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic

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