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cherubfae · 3 months

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you're accidentally shrunk! || hazbin x reader

with Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Angel Dust, Vox

tags: fluff, comedy, established relationships, gn!reader (implied masc reader for angel as always <3)

Alastor

He is quite amused by the whole ordeal, if not a touch worried for your wellbeing. You're utterly tiny, capable of sitting in the palm of his hand like a tiny doll. His claw gently nudges your cheek, tilting your chin up. Using his own magic proves to be futile. After several attempts he's still unable to change you back to your normal self. He isn't sure why his powers don't seem to be taking effect.

Alastor doesn't let anyone else touch or hold you. Legit will hold you in his hand above his head should Vaggie or Charlie try to get a better look at you.

"No, no, no," Alastor clicks his tongue. "I'm afraid I'm not comfortable in letting my dearest love be held by anyone but me. Surely, you understand." He gives you a little smile, his thumb gently stroking your head.

You aren't a little toy and the last thing he wants happening if Niffty mistaking you for a roach, so he prefers to have you sitting atop his shoulder, his head, or safely tucked into the pocket of his waistcoat with your tiny little head poking out to watch the world around you. As much as he finds you adorable and vulnerable in this state, he does prefer you as yourself. He'll probably head to Rosie first, he wants nothing to do with Lucifer. She always has her ear to the ground and he's certain he'll get you returned to normal soon.

Lucifer

Well, that's new. Lucifer is easily able to turn you back to yourself but he wants to have a little fun first. He lifts you up and presses little kisses all over your face, giggling to himself when you press your hands to his rosy cheeks.

"Can't help it, sweetheart! You're too cute!" He gently nuzzles your cheek, placing a loving kiss to the top of your head. He'll shapeshift himself into a mouse and pretend that you're a little fairy about to battle for Narnia.

When he turns you back, he is relieved. He much prefers you as your lovely self where you're able to snuggle into his side and hold you properly to his chest, sharing many kisses between you two.

Husk

Shit, this ain't good, but at least yer havin' fun, baby. Husk sighs, leaning his chin against his paws. His yellow eyes flick back and forth in amusement as you treat the bar counter like your own slip-and-slide, watching as you spin around on the shiny wood with a small squeak.

Husk catches you with his tail before you can slide off, lightly placing you back on your feet mirroring the grin you give him. "I'm glad you're having a good time but we gotta figure out how to turn ya back, hun." He leans back against the stool, hoping Charlie has found something or someone who may be able to offer some help.

Charlie, on queue, comes rushing down the stairs holding a light pink pearlescent vial in her hands. "Let's try this!" She stands triumphantly, proudly holding out the vial in her hands. "A drop or two on their head should bring them back to normal height. I have a feeling this will work, but as Plan B we can go to my Dad!" She beams.

Husk nods, giving you a tiny peck on top of your head that only serves to make Charlie coo. Placing you on the floor, Charlie uncaps the vial. A shimmery fuschia-purple liquid smelling of sweet berries oozes out and gently drops onto your head.

A whoosh of pink and yellow unfurls out and soon you're standing before them as mostly yourself. Your hair is now a dyed vibrant pink. Across the room, Alastor who is casually reading the newspaper, snaps his fingers and poof! Your hair is back to normal!

"You could've helped them this whole time?!" Husk hisses, fur bristling. Alastor hums, taking a sip of his black coffee, "Hmm no, just their hair. Good thing they're back in one piece, yes?" He grins. "Too bad you didn't play a little cat and mouse with them. That would have been a sight to behold!"

Angel Dust

As adorable as you are, Angel is fuckin panicking. He's not quite sure what to do and he's terrified of someone accidentally stepping on you. "Okay, baby, I've got ya, hang on!" Angel places you on his chest fluff, his hand holding you in place as he returns to his room.

Depending on how long this magic lasts, Angel will 100% want to play dress up with you and have you try on cute outfits or perhaps make a cute little dollhouse for you. He's too scared of crushing you in his sleep so until this wears off, he doesn't want to risk anything happening to you. He's also worried about Niffty mistaking you for a bug, so when he's out and about, he keeps you close to him at all times. If he has to leave and can't take you with, he instructs Vaggie and Charlie to look after you.

"Do not let Niffty or the Egg Bois around them, got it?" His stern eyes are narrowed, making an expression that he's watching Sir Pentious. "Keep the Eggies in line."

Vox

What the fuck? He blinks, a jolt of electricity nearly short-circuiting himself. Babe, what the fuck happened to you? Vox scoops you into his hands, holding you to his chest. He's doing his best not to panic, convinced this is another one of Alastor's stupid fucking pranks.

Thankfully whatever has happened wasn't permanent. A tiny explosion of sparkles and a poof blue dust has the futuristic demon stumbling back, sighing when you're standing there at your normal height with a hand pressed to your head.

"Holy shit, what the fuck happened?" Vox presses, grasping your hand and pulling you into his lap. He's cupping your face between clawed hands checking for any sign of injury. "Was it Alastor?" You shake your head, coughing out some blue sparkly dust.

"Nah, got caught under some pollen demon's magic on my way to HQ." You grumble, leaning your head onto your boyfriend's shoulder. Vox sighs, wrapping his arms around your waist.

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

"Ok, ok, well, you're back," he grumbles. "Don't do that to me again."

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x reader

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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months

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Lewis Hamilton and George Russel - I'm with a Knight and Slenderman, No One Can Touch Me

It’s part 4 time! This was so fun to write and I laughed so hard at some parts. I feel like George is a really underrated driver. He’s funny and a good person (even though he looks like Woody from Toy Story). And the girlfriend effect has hit him hard. His hair is so beautiful and I need to know what he does with his bangs.

And then Sir Lewis – good Lord, he needs to go back to that one hairstyle from that one interview that made everyone fall for him

Specially dedicated to @treehouse-mouse <3

[TAG LIST IS CLOSED]

Like always, comments, questions, concerns, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! Love you all <;3

“Shit,” you muttered as you looked around the now empty paddock. You knew that taking a nap after your media duties had been done was a bad idea. You had played nap roulette with yourself and were now paying the consequences. You shouldn’t have said “oh, I won’t set an alarm. Someone will come get me. I might nap for ten minutes or it might be 3 hours. Who knows!”

Well, now you knew. It was three hours.

You looked around for your backpack that you had come with. But as your eyes danced around the garage, it was nowhere to be found. You sighed as you at least remembered your phone. But alas, the world hated you for being a woman: your phone was dead.

“Ok, there’s no reason to panic. Let’s head to the parking lot and see if someone is still here,” you whispered to yourself. Walking carefully, you exited the dark paddock. The parking lot was no different.

Dark, cold, and empty.

“Great. Just great.” You decided to sit on a curb and wait. Maybe by now, Christian or Max would know that you are missing, and will come back to get you.

Or maybe they were mad at you. Yes, you were on the podium. As a rookie. At your first race.

But you made a mistake that costed the team a 1-2 finish. Maybe you didn’t deserve to be looked for.

Before your thoughts could spiral more, two bright headlights blinded you. You raised a hand to try to cover at least some of your face. The two front doors of the car swung open. Your heart started to race.

It was just you out here and they might be kidnappers.

“Please I have no money on me. Don’t beat me up or kidnap me. Trust, you do not want to sell me or anything like that,” you spoke out, trying to hinder their unknown wants for you. Your fear slowly melted away at a familiar grandpa laugh and bean-pole build of the two figures.

“Lewis! George!” You stood up quickly.

“What are you doing out here?” George peered down. Your neck was bent to even look up at him.

“Um. I might have been left behind because I was taking a nap. And my phone is also dead.” You sheepishly grinned at the two.

Lewis sighed before bringing out his phone. “I don’t have Christian’s number, but Toto does. Let me give him a call.”

Your head cocked. “Do you not have Max’s number?” George let out a laugh.

“Kid. Think of Abu Dhabi 2021.” Your eyes widened.

“Sorry.”

Lewis waved you off and walked a bit aways to hear Toto. George just kind of stared at you as you stared at him.

“Are you ok?”

“Of course I’m ok. I’m with a knight,” you pointed at Lewis, “and Slenderman. No one can touch me.” You crossed your arms before giggling. George just gawked at your boldness. You took this time to look at the nice Mercedes in front of you. “Is this the new model?”

George nodded. “Yeah, Lewis just got it. He won’t let me drive it though.” A pout formed on his lips.

“I get what you mean. Max won’t let me drive his Ferrari.”

“Why would you want to drive that junk?”

Your head tilted. “I don’t know. I like my Porsches better though.” It was George’s time to raise an eye brow. “I haven’t gotten them yet. But they’ll be ready soon. I had to ship one to London and the other to Monaco.”

“Ah.”

You looked at Lewis, who was still on the phone. You had an idea.

A very bad one, but an idea none-the-less.

“You wanna go somewhere?” You pointed at the still running car. Lewis should have taken the keys.

“Where would we go?” George was already grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“There’s a burger king a couple of miles away.”

George was already climbing into the driver’s side. “Let’s get going!”

Back with Lewis, he was still on the phone. For some reason, Toto would still not give him Christian’s number.

“Please Toto, I am with two children,” he pinched his brow, “and I’m tired and I’d like to get back to the hotel. So please send me Max’s or Christian’s number.” He wasn’t aware of his car that was now filled with said two children making their getaway. He hung up once he got Max’s number.

His phone rang for a few seconds before Max’s voice sounded over the background noise of a party.

“Who is this?”

“It’s Lewis. You left your kid here.” He heard Max curse on the other side.

“I thought Vito was getting her, but Vito is right at the bar. Can you send me your location so I can pick her up?”

Lewis waved a hand, even though Max couldn’t see it. “No worries, I can just drop her off. I’m with George and we’ll driver her over. I have my-” Lewis stopped.

“Lewis? Are you there?”

Lewis’ eyes scanned the now empty parking lot. He groaned. “They took my car!”

Max laughed for a bit before he realized that Lewis wasn’t playing. “Send my your location, I’m already out the door. We’ll find them.”

By the time Max got to Lewis, you and George were already having the time of your lives.

You pointed out the window. “Look Georgie. Traffic cones. Have you ever put one on your head?”

When George denied that he had, you gasped and told him to pull over. You and him climbed out of the low car and walked over to the traffic cones. By now, your phone was a bit charged, courtesy of the charger in the vehicle. And it was blowing up.

But you didn’t see it or care.

You picked up one of the cones and put it on your head. Your giggle resonated through it.

“Y/n, smile!” You heard George say. You smiled, even though it wouldn’t be seen under the orange hat.

George told you that he was going to set up the camera to take a picture of the two of you.

“Let’s put our heads together.” The two cones whacked against the other. George had to bend over so that they would be close.

You laughed as your hair was staticky due to the cone. George’s hair was the same, which made you laugh even harder. “Send that to me, I’m going to post in on the gram.”

The only notification you looked at was the one from George with the picture. Quicky uploading it, you knew you were about to create even more chaos.

The two of you decided to sit on the curb for a bit. Your thoughts from earlier quickly sprang into your head, due to the silence between you two.

“George?” you questioned, looking ahead. He was currently scrolling through his phone, but he made a noise to let you know that he was listening.

“What was it like having a teammate that you know you’ll never amount to? Not saying that you won’t amount to Lewis at some point, but,” you trailed off, not knowing how to continue.

The click of his phone let you know that George was now focused on the conversation.

“I get what you mean. It’s very overwhelming. You get put up with world champions, and people are already expecting you to beat records and perform as well as they do.” George sighed as he reflected on his first year with Mercedes. How the people would taunt that he wasn’t good enough to be Lewis’s teammate and that he should just be second fiddle to him. Suddenly, he noticed a hand had been placed on his shoulder. Tears also wetted his face.

When had he started crying?

You continued to rub his shoulder until his tears stopped.

You tried to console him. “Well, we can be second-fiddle buddies together?” you offered, hoping he would laugh. And he did.

The two of you decided to sit on the curb for a few more minutes. But at this point, you knew that Lewis along with Max were probably on their way to get you. You pulled yourself up, then held out a hand to George, who took it without second thought.

Before you knew it, the two of you were back in the car, just chilling.

“Look what Max and Lewis are saying.” You showed him the screen and laughed. It really was fun to mess with old men.

“Are we still going to burger king?”

You nodded your head. “If Lewis can be a knight, I need a crown to be the king.”

“Don’t you mean queen?” he asked as he started the car back up again.

“Nope.” You popped the P and that was a good enough answer. George pulled away from the side of the street and made his way to the Burger King. The two of you were thankful that it was mostly empty, except for the employees. The two of you ordered more than enough food for two people. You justified it as giving the workers more money.

Your companion went along with it.

“Order number 69,” the tired lady called out. George and you shared a look before the two of you collapsing on the ground, dying with laughter and probably exhaustion. You were still giggling as you took the food from the lady. You muttered a thank you before you and George took a table near the back.

“Did you get your slushie?” you questioned, holding your cup.

“I didn’t know they had slushies!”

You took George’s hand and let him over to the machine. The amount of slushies that you slurped down would never be recorded. As you drank one of your last ones, you suddenly remembered an important detail.

You looked over at the tired lady who took your order. “Do you have the crowns?”

Max was still constantly trying to reach you, with one hand on the steering wheel and his phone in the other.

“Come on kid. Pick up,” he pleaded and cursed when the call went to voicemail for the umpteenth time that night.

Lewis was texting all the drivers in the group chat, asking if they’d seen the two of you. They came up short.

“This is ridiculous,” Max seethed. “How could you have let them do this?”

Lewis shot him a glare. “How could you leave her at the paddock after dark?” he bit back.

“Like I said, Vito was supposed to take her back to the hotel. She’s not allowed in the clubs.”

“Then Christian should find some way for everyone to party. The kid got a podium her first race as a rookie, and she was left behind.”

Max banged his head on the steering wheel as they stopped at a red light. Lewis was correct. He wondered if you felt forgotten. Knowing you, you probably did. And it was mostly his fault. He’d talk to Christian about alternatives until you turned legal age.

“I’ll talk to Christian about that. What were you and George doing back at the paddock anyway?”

Lewis grimaced. “I forgot a file back at our garage. George seemed antsy and restless so I invited him. Never doing that again.”

Max smirked, “Kids. Am I right?”

“Look!” Lewis pointed at a familiar car in the parking lot of an empty Burger King. Max pulled in on two wheels. As they walked up, their eyes landed on two people, crowns on their heads, hands flailing.

Max pushed the door open and stopped towards the figures. His hands landed aggressively on the table. “Do you two know how much trouble you’re in.”

He heard laughing from behind him.

“Max. That’s not them,” Lewis whispered.

Max’s head jerked and saw the scared faces of two employees. He heard more laughing and whipped his head around, eyes finally falling on you and George, whose phone was out recording. You looked as if you were about to explode with laughter.

“I’m sorry about that.” He turned around and stomped towards your table. “Let’s try this again.”

His palms hit the correct table this time. “Do the two of you know how much trouble you are in?” He looked into your eyes before glancing at George.

You stared up at the seething Dutchman. You pulled out a french fry.

“Fry?”

“Lewis, I got you an impossible whopper.” George held out the wrapped food.

Max sighed, anger waning by the minute. There was no fighting with the two of you. The two adult-figures sat down and started to eat. Max munched on a fry as Lewis started to eat the burger.

You and George continued to talk about your so-called adventures.

“And then George ran a red light.”

Lewis choked as George winced. Lewis’s head jerked toward George, eyes squinting.

“You’re paying for that.” George only shrugged, he had enough money anyway.

Max just stared in silence, mulling over the exhausting night. You could sense that he was still cooling off, and you were scared of what he might say in the car.

The food was quickly finished and the four of you were headed out the door. It seemed as though yours and George’s energy levels were quickly tanking as the two of you barely said a goodbye. The hug and faux tears though were enough for Lewis and Max to roll their eyes.

You watched as George and Lewis left in the Mercedes. You gulped as you got into the passenger side of Max’s rental vehicle. You winced at the proximity.

You mind quickly went back to your dad. How he’d hit the side of your face if you did anything that was “out of line.” Or he’d pinch your thigh until it bruised. Those were the easiest to hide. When your face was a little too red and purple, your helmet stayed on for the entire race day.

Your eyes welled with tears at the thought of Max turning out to be like him. You didn’t think he would, but you were out of line tonight.

No fun. No sneaking out. No stealing (borrowing) cars.

You were sinking into yourself, and Max could sense that.

He turned to look at you. What he said next was shocking.

“I’m sorry kid.”

Your eyes bulged. “Why are you sorry? If anything, I should be on my knees begging for your forgiveness.”

Max just stared at you before slowly putting his hand near your head.

This was it. He was going to hit you and you’d have to live through everything again. You couldn’t tell Christian that his golden-child would do such a thing. And no one would ever believe you.

You jerked back as your eyes closed tight. Your body tensed, waiting for the repercussion to your actions. Your breaths got a little bit faster and shorter.

But it never came.

All that was, was a gentle placed hand on the top of your head.

Comforting. Loving. Cherishing.

Max wanted to cry as he saw how your body prepared for something horrible. Something nasty.

“Kleintje,” Max breathed out.

Your tears began to make their escape down the hills of your cheeks. You could only repeat and whisper I’m sorry, over and over again. Max couldn’t do anything but wait for you to calm down and maybe tell him what was racing through your head.

Your breathing evened out as you felt there was nothing coming. Soon you were embarrassed for thinking that Max, one of the only people to seem to care about you, would do such a thing. Yet, your mind always went back to your patterns.

People who should care, didn’t. Hands that were made for comforting, didn’t. Encouragements didn’t exist…for you.

Maybe you were the problem.

But, maybe you weren’t. You’d allow some comfort, just this once.

Max cooed as you leaned into his hand. He knew you were tired. A long day of racing and a long night of adventures would really do that to you.

He didn’t expect you to explain to so quickly. But you knew how to surprise someone.

“My dad and mom, weren’t the nicest. They wanted a boy, got me instead.” You harshly exhaled. “They put me in karting because if they had had a boy, they would have done the same. I was just a placeholder.”

Max listened, wanting to hear what you said.

“It started off small. A push here, a hit to the helmet there. I really didn’t think anything of it. Until I was about 7 and I crashed my kart on the last lap. I was going to win too, but I over compensated and hit the wall. All I remember after that race was my dad grabbing my wrist and yanking me to the car. I hit my head on the dash, I think. Or he was the one to push my head in.” You shrugged at the nasty memory, as if it didn’t matter.

Max on the other hand, was getting angrier. Yes, his dad did similar things, but he was a boy. He could stand up for himself. And he had his mom and sister.

You had no one.

“The next morning, I woke up and there was this giant bruise on my face and smaller ones littered my arms. I thought that was the end of it, except it continued. I was able to hide it pretty well. My race suit pretty much covered everything. I also didn’t have many friends, or, I just didn’t have friends. So there, wasn’t a need to worry. They stopped after I made it to the end of F4, because I was winning and there were more cameras. The moment I made it to F3 in 2019, they disowned me.”

He did the math. You would have been 16 at the time. Still a kid, but smaller. His heart broke for you.

“Kid, look at me.”

You turned your head and made eye contact. Your brows furrowed when you saw tears in his eyes.

He wasn’t supposed to cry. Why was he crying?

“I’m crying because no one should ever have to go through something like that.” Oh, you must have said that out loud.

You shrugged once again, “I probably deserved it.”

“No, geitje, no one deserves that. Ever. You didn’t.” You could only nod along. Your eyes were getting tired by the minute. Max could tell so he started the car. He only had one more thing to say. (translation : kid)

“My dad did similar things. But I had people to help me. And I know your dad isn’t around, but Y/n,” he said your name, trying to emphasize that he was serious. “I am here for you. Christian is here for you. Mitch is here and so is Vito. We love you. I’m not a good teammate, and you can see that I’ve gone through more teammates than anyone else has in the amount of time I’ve been here. I’m the only constant. But I think that we will actually work out. Best duo right?”

For the first time since Burger King, where you and him were still parked, he saw your eyes light up.

You nodded, “Best duo.”

Max finally took that as a sign that you’d be ok for the night. He carefully back the car out and started on the road toward the hotel.

“Do you think Christian will let me come to the club next race.”

Max let out a sarcastic laugh. “Definitely not.”

Your giggles filled the small space. Max’s heart swelled at making you laugh.

You’d be all right. He’d make sure of it.

AN: oh my gosh that got REAL depressing – I apologize. But, Max needed to know a bit more about your lore if he’s going to be able to fend off any unwanted visitors (FORESHADOWING). Anyway, I will see you all at the next chapter! Muah! Much love <3 – author :D

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @ashy-kit @agent-curt-mega @julesbabey @lydialawrence @stopeatread @claudia5912 @nichmeddar @blueberry64857959 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @leptitlu @alessioayla @badassturtle13 @kaaale @wcnorris @cool-ultra-nerd @hockeyboysarehot @agent-curt-mega @myxticmoon @cmleitora @sam-is-lost @misartymis @boiohboii @alexander-hamilhoe @jayda12 @indesicivelyconfuzzled @fangirl125reader @itscrzy @xcharlottemikaelsonx @fionaschicken @torchbearerkyle @ineedafictionalman @loaksmuntxa @classiclitfreak @sarcasm-ismy-onlydefense @luisie @jayda12 @comfortzonequeen @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @inejghafawifesblog

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visionsofmagic · 7 months

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— what he calls you, what you call him. ✷ mk1 edition.

PET NAMES.

— nsfw content under the cut! just a drabble & version 2 of my other drabble series for mk1. the idea came into my mind when I was writing a request, so, have fun! [also have no idea how this turned out to be more spicy than I thought] [main master.]

tomas, syzoth, bi han, liu kang, kuai liang, raiden

TOMAS. he likes to call you by every beautiful title even though he still believes your name is the prettiest one among them. he chooses “my goddess” mostly in lots of ways from showing his love to begging for you to let him fuck you. he always gets blushed whenever you tease him by using a few certain pet names. the most effective one is being called shy by you.

“oh, hi shyness, miss me already? ohh, cute!”

SYZOTH. he is shy like tomas yet he is a bit stronger with certain pet names you use for him while he’s calling you his love, goddess, precious. he prefers using cute little names for you besides your name. he even whimpers them when he has you on him, under him, in front of him. it doesn’t matter - the only important thing is how he tries to get you to call him with a certain title - good boy.

“ohh, my good boy - you’re so beautiful!”

BI HAN. it takes a long time for him to come up with pet names that include affection rather than power play - apparently, he’s new to this, a bit, yet when he discovers how the names he calls you have different effects on you, he begins to use them often. you are the reason he begins to use them after all - calling him master, in a very seductive way, turning his title to something different, something that makes his blood boil with a refreshing ice sense. it drives him crazy whenever you use it, so, he chooses to call you his personal favorite, including humiliating nicknames too - “slut”, “whore”, and “toy” - also he calls you, “pretty”, “delightful”.

“ohh - master, you have no idea what you’re doing to me - mmh, maybe you do.”

LIU KANG. he is a lover who likes to give both affection, love and lust, desire to his partner, so he uses lots of pet names while giving every beautiful name to you, from “darlin’”, “love”, “beauty” to “doll”, “honey”, “delicate flower”. he likes to see your expression, and your reactions as he calls you with such names. also, he can’t help but fall for you further, can’t hide the feelings he has in the moments of you call him your lord - both in a pretty way as if he’s the only one who has your heart and soul at the same time with your trust, and in a sweet way as if the only thing you want from him to devour you, showing his true power while showing you starts as he pounds into you.

“ohhh, my lord, please - it’s so gooood my lord, so good -!”

KUAI LIANG. the dilemma of this man makes you go crazy. it will be like in daylight, you’re the most precious thing in every realm, a delicate lover, deserves all gentle things from him - it even shows itself with the way he calls you his love, heart, and soul - yet in nights, he turns into a fire beast, having you so weak on the knees and teasing you whenever he gets chance to by calling you his good girl. his favorite ones - the ones that turn the table and make him weak on the knees one for you are being called your warmth, your lover, and your cute boy. according to the moods, he goes crazy with each of them.

“my lover - goood, feeling so good!”

RAIDEN. another shy boy who likes to call you the ones you are comfortable with- he even asks you if it’s okay to call you such a thing the first time he uses it without realizing it for a moment. he’s also a gentle lover - it takes time to also use a few filthy names rather than only cute ones such as “pretty”, “princess”, and “cuteness.” he spends a certain time until he calls you his good girl, making his mind turn dizzy with how you make him feel so good. for him, he should choose the name he can never get tired or bored of hearing from your pretty lips - as he remarks shyly.

“oh, look at my pretty boy! making such a mess for me!”

🩷

tagging • @lookingforgoodthings & @snowprincesa1

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wcbblife · 7 days

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Paige as a girl/boy mom HCs!

a/n: So, keep in mind that some of these could be switched. Like this is just me exponentially running my mouth. I actually might do another part. Enjoy!

Boy mom:

Paige would absolutely be too excited for her son to be strong and old enough so that she can play with him. You constantly have to remind her to be patient and to at least wait until he can walk lol.

She would 100% put a basketball in his hands the second he has his first steps. I actually think she would even do it while he is still using his baby walker. Once he actually makes a basket, she’ll run laps around the house screaming because she enjoys the belly laughs her son makes.

She would read him stories and get too involved. Especially if they’re comics. She’ll be shouting out the sound effects and you have to walk into them bursting into fits of giggles. They both would have matching pouts once you tell her that he’s past his bedtime. (Btw she's definitely the fun mom)

Video games. That’s it. Although you two had a conversation about getting him into video games later in life, as soon as he set his eyes on Paige playing, he had been so adamant about playing that you both gave in.

She buys him a new set of clothes literally every other day. “Babe, just imagine him in this. He’ll look like a little gentleman.” Like it's crazy how much clothes he would have.

She definitely takes him to her practices sometimes and even teaches him as soon as he shows any type of interest in basketball. (This reminds me...Paige would never push her kids into one particular sport BUT she would push them into an active lifestyle so trust she will always be doing something with them.)

Him and KK would be besties btw. Even when he used to babble out incoherent words, I can just imagine how chaotic KK would be with a baby boy and Paige would 100% not make anything better. “Bababa.” Your baby blows a raspberry. “You heard him!” KK shouts, turning to him, “Damn little man, I couldn't have said it better myself.” “KK, language.” You deadpan.

Once he’s out of that fragile baby faze and into that toddler stage, I get the feeling she’ll definitely fling him around (safely ofc). Like she’ll pick him up and just throw him to the couch or on to his bed, loving the sound of his laughs.

Beach days go crazy with them two. Literally two kids. Sandcastles, water fights, beach volleyball. I get a feeling they go home completely covered in sand and Paige carries him back to the car while he’s too sleepy to open his eyes.

She’s just so fun. Always in an adventure with him especially if it’s really active. Like camping, surfing, hiking …etc.

Horror/Space movie nights with a pillow fort and popcorn.

Whenever she does anything fun with her teammates or travels for her games, her first thoughts are about you and him and how much fun you guys could have. Def keeps a bucket list of places for you guys to visit

You’ve definitely found her sound asleep in his bed with him curled up to her side. It happened when you ask her to put him to sleep after practice but she’s way too tired herself to get up and out of his room.

You think she secretly enjoys playing with his toys more than he does lol. Like you’ve definitely found her playing with them while he's long gone.

She could not cook for shit in the early days of your relationship but as time went on, she learned just to be able to cook for you guys. I actually envision her as a grill dad lol. She’ll definitely wake up early in the morning, step out into the cold weather and cook you guys some breakfast.

"If they punch you, punch them back harder." Mom.

Paige strikes me as a mother that would particularly show an abundant amount of love for her boy. She recognizes that, just like girls, boys need reassurance and love.

You constantly find them breaking into fits of laughter and giggle alone. It's the cutest thing ever.

Girl mom:

Paige is absolutely smitten and head over heels even before the baby girl is born. She’ll lay her head softly on your stomach and talk for hours to her.

Once she’s born though it’s a whole other side of Paige. She’s usually clumsy, but you never see her be so cautious like when she’s holding the girl. Literally sloth pace once she has her in her arms. Honestly kinda funny.

She’d be way too excited and paint everything pink and have everything ready for her MONTHS before she’s born. Before she was born, you'd catch her just looking or sitting around the room all alone.

Geeks about small girl clothes. Especially dresses and little sandals. You have to constantly deal with her sending you a bunch of pictures of clothes whenever she goes shopping with messages like “We’ll have a little princess walking around in our house soon.” or “I can’t wait to put this on her babe.”

Paige will 100% let her daughter put on makeup on her and it doesn’t matter how bad she looks; she’ll walk out with it on in public if her daughter asked her. Just imagine her sitting in a chair that’s wayyy too little for her, hunched over as your daughter tries her very best to apply some of that cheap kids makeup. omg.

Puppy eyes work on her almost too easily. And it’s hilarious.

“Hey…What did I tell you about candy at this hour?” Puppy eyes “Hmmmmm. Fine. But don’t tell your mother. And this is the last one!” Or… “I’m too tired honey…” Puppy eyes “Fine, let’s go.”

She does her signature hairstyle on her daughter’s hair, and it makes you laugh because she turns into a miniature version of Paige. Talking about a miniature Paige...trust that her daughter would literally copy her mother's sass.

Same with the makeup, Paige would let her daughter paint her nails. She always gets made fun of in her practices, but she couldn't care less. Strangely I think she would actually like going through her game pictures and seeing the chipped and uneven colors all over her nails because it was her baby girl who did them.

Protective as hell I’m afraid. Like she will not hesitate to smack the shit out of someone or scream at them if they're being weird or disrespectful or mean etc.

Matching fits. I think she would love to either match fits or color with her daughter (and son too dont get me wrong). Especially when showing up to games and they’re photographed together.

Watching princess movies with her is Paige’s favorite downtime activity. After a tough match or practice she absolutely loves getting home to her angel and just lounge around on the sofa while watching “The Princess and the Frog.” Especially when they either both fall asleep, or her daughter falls asleep and she carries her back to her room.

You’ve definitely found her sleeping on the floor next to the crib in the early days.

Paige in a rocking chair with her daughter sleeping on her. >>>>

Instagram feed would be full of her daughter's pics without her face. Even if fans know what she looks like she still likes to do it.

Paige would find it strangely soothing to play with her daughter's hair or even fiddle with her tiny little fingers absentmindedly.

#wcbb #women's basketball #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #fluff

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tarjapearce · 5 months

Text

Crimson Crown (Pt. 6)

Royal AU! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Thanks to @pinkiemme for the amazing cover ✨

Summary: You beat Miguel to take the first step.

A/N: Thanks for the patience 🥹❤️. Hope you enjoy ~

The heavy footsteps echoed through the dark alleys of the city, lost into the forever echo of Arachne's capital. Stony roads lead to different places, but the cloaked figure's path lead to a tavern. More to the underground facade of the place, to a secluded and exclusive area.

The oak door was knocked with a characteristical bang, A little slot within was slid open, just to reveal a pair of beady eyes. The cloaked figure smirked upon hearing the locks turn and pull until the hefty door was open, allowing them in.

"You're alone."

"Yeah" the cloaked man removed his disguise and downed a pint of beer before reuniting with the others, that like him, were awaiting for his presence to start their clandestine reunion. Dressed up to mingle with the shadows.

"The king has increased the security in the east prison."

"That's a problem if we want our mercenaries out."

"What about Fisk? Tell him to send some of his men undercover to scout the area."

Another man grunted in response.

"He also is a king with responsibilities. Getting an audience with him alone takes time."

"Then what the fuck are you waiting for?"

The other man scowled as he pulled a knife out of the many pockets his suit allowed him to carry. And that unleashed a domino effect as the rest either pulled guns or more knives.

The dark and makeshift reunion was made with five men and a young boy, that didn't pass his sixteens.

"Hey! If you wanna fight someone, save those energies for the king-"

"The king has been too busy to care. His new toy has him quite preoccupied."

A brow was quirked, "New toy?"

"A princess."

"Well, ain't that wonderful?"

"Great. Now we have to remake our plan."

"No, no. What are you talking about? If we don't attack now, our chance will be for naught."

"You truly want to go ahead with a plan when we're missing our most important associates? I'd love to see you try to take on the king yourself."

The jeering words flew constantly between some members of the little gathering.

"Seems like you forget why he is called The Red King."

A roll of eyes and a dismissive gesture made the man to keep interrogating.

"So what about the princess?"

"We need more information about her."

The youngest cleared his throat and spoke.

"She's a Thelerian."

There was a collective round of not so surprised and bored 'ahs' from the men.

"No wonder why there is Arachne's soldiers in the West Passage and the borders."

"Borders? Through the city. Even within the castle!."

"Guess the old trick of 'I sell my daughter to you for protection' always works."

"She wasn't sold. Their wedding is a month and a half away."

"This is bad."

There was another pregnant silence before the teen spoke again.

"She's a doctor."

"Of course she is. Damned Thelerians. Always meddling with our affairs one way or another."

"They're strangers."

"Oh?"

The boy spoke as everyone's eyes settled on him.

"What do you mean strangers, boy?"

"They don't get that much along. King just talks to her when necessary."

The interest shone in the many pair of eyes. One face contorted into a smirk.

"Of course he does. I'd be surprised if he'd still get his cock functioning after being so inactive."

There was a combined titter and malicious giggles from them as the joke was told.

"There will be a meeting soon. With the council. I'll take my guess that he's introducing her to it."

"Told you this boy would be useful."

"Of course, it was my idea."

"Hey, you filthy rats... stop playing and listen. Is there anything else you can tell us about this princess?"

The boy shrugged.

"What do I get in return?"

"What did you just say, boy?"

The eldest man mumbled, clearly vexed by the plucky and defying attitude of the boy.

"I said, what do I get in return? All of you have something to win over this plan. And so far I've been used as a spy. I think it's fair if I get something back."

"And what would you possibly want?"

"I'll take it when I see it."

"Right."

"Anyways, Let Fisk know we need him. We gotta get that big brawn twerp before The King gets to him first."

"Oh god, not Rhino."

"Shut up. As much as I hate him too, he's useful. We need him."

"Stay in the castle. Find out where he was last seen."

The man spoke to the boy, that only stared back with a piercing gaze.

"Even though the princess is a new addition to the plan, it only gives us a new advantage. Political marriages are a thing, so we gotta make the most out of it."

"She recently visited her parents. Apparently the king fell ill after his mistress tried to poison him."

Another laugh.

"See? This is why exactly I've been telling you that Theleria will fall by it's own king's hand. We don't even need to meddle with them."

"True that."

"What about Prince Gabriel?"

A solemn silence fell on the stony and secluded room.

"Keep that fool busy. If we can make he gets sent away even better. Less to worry about."

"And the princess?"

"Keep an eye on her."

-------

Nervous and anxious was an underestimation on how you really felt. You were sure the insides of your cheeks were nearly chewed raw as you waited outside the grand wooden doors, just as Peter had instructed a few moments ago. Your knees trembled underneath the layers of your dress, palms became sweaty and your breaths a bit more shallow.

The day to finally meet the council, had arrived. The past two days were spent solely on your studies about Arachne and the current situations surrounding the kingdom. You tried to cram up as much info as possible, but what truly would be judged was your criterion on things and how well you could adapt to the situations.

Royalty expected so much, and hopefully you'd pass this evaluation. It was unavoidable to not feel curious as to why councils held almost the same amount of power as The king himself. Back in her kingdom, councils remained as an extra help, and as much as a mistress indulging your father, King Blanchard was, he took his ruling seriously.

Councils were summoned when your parents needed to keep updated in the things that needed to be done. But again, different kingdoms, different customs.

The doors slid open to reveal none other than Miguel himself, motioning for you to come in. The room was large and so was the war table, as people gathered around it. A total of six, you and Miguel made eight in total.

There had never been another chair at the top of the table, cause there was no need for another one. Until now. You sit next to Miguel. Eyes settled on you.

Some with hardened expressions you couldn't quite pinpoint as to why of their sudden and implicit hostility, others regarded you curiously.

Jessica, Ben and Peter joined not long after.

"Now, that we're all in, let us begin."

"Your majesty."

Everyone bowed to Miguel and soon an elder lady spoke.

"As you may know, the nether lands are asking for an audience with you ever since some months ago. They will not stop until you've listened to them, apparently."

Her tone was tired, a little annoyed but respectful nonetheless.

"What is it what they want anyways, May?"

"For you to lower their taxes on seasonal products."

"Can't do if they charge as twice for imports that are brought out of time. And recreating their things is proven to be even more expensive."

Miguel sighed while resting his cheek on his knuckles.

"Lower them a two percent."

"But, my lord! You lowered them already last month!"

Another man spoke, pointing at the outside lands out of Enethor. Your eyes frowned upon seeing the distance to travel and import. Miguel looked at you from the corner of his eyes.

"What do you think, Princesa?"

"W-Well, taxes are quite important for the kingdom, and so are the seasonal products the merchants offer, naturally, they'd ask to lower the taxes"

Some scoffed at the obvious information, but you kept talking.

"Why don't lower the taxes in the plot of lands they use?"

"Care to explain that?"

"Look at it this way, the cheaper the land, more opportunities they have to create more jobs"

"So basically making the rich, richer."

You frowned at the tempting words from another man.

"No. A mutual help, sir. By lowering the prices, there will be no need for them to travel such great distances, and subsequently they won't raise their prices on the market. Because they'll produce what they can here."

May seemed to consider your words as the rest discussed.

"Do you use this in your kingdom, your highness?"

Another man, Ben Parker spoke with genuine curiosity.

"We do. Since Theleria produces medicines, we cannot be picky when it comes to import the finest materials for it. We want to help others. Not monopolise health."

"How... benevolent of you. Though I'm quite surprised you allow such thing, when your kingdom is the tiniest among the continent."

Another man, Darko D'Angelo spoke.

"Yet, with all due respect, none has taken our place as the main supplier of medicines in the continent, sir."

Miguel smirked as you took a discreet deep inhale. It was unavoidable to feel angered when someone tried to belittle Theleria.

"Now, now, let's get our attention focused on what truly needs to be discussed."

The council expanded on various topics, even though the start was a bit rocky, there were times where you actually felt included and taken in consideration. May Parker seemed on a neutral line. And so was Ben Parker. Another amusing thing, was to know that there were so many Parkers and Ben's within the ranks.

They all seemed connected to the need to fight for what was good, and Miguel slead them all on. It made your heart to leap a bit in your chest as your eyes settled on him, discreetly.

For a dark king everyone assumed him to be, he had been one of the kindest, wisest and considerate man with a deep love for his kingdom you've ever met.

Jessica couldn't help but elbow Peter to witness the look you were giving him. An absolutely fascinated one. That turned into a blushing stare the more he spoke about the revamps he wanted to do into the esthetics ways of Arachne.

The council had discussed many things he had neglected, like arts and other needs revolving around them. You were so temped into taking his hand and ask him personally to let you handle it. That you would help him and not disappoint him.

But the same man from before changed the mood and the conversation's route so quickly fast it had cut you short to prepare yours and the rest's replies.

"I think your highness should focus in producing heirs, instead of feeding the needs of a little bunch that hold no productivity besides entertaining momentarily the rest."

"Ser Darko."

May warned but another man spoke.

"Baron D'Angelo is right. You see, we are at the verge of war-"

"Against who, my lord?"

You questioned and if the men could kill with their looks, you'd be a cold body by now. Their subtle and not so discreet disdain over your ideas an opinions hadn't go unnoticed, specially by Baron D'Angelo, who seemed fixated into getting any sort of negative reaction from you.

"Against who?! How preposterous of you to believe we are in times of peace, when outside the continent there is so many enemies that want to invade us, princess."

If it wasn't for the warning glare Miguel shot him, he could've kept rambling about how naive you were.

"My apologies, ser. Has anything been done to appease their intentions?"

"It's not something you can't just fix by talking to them, princess. That it has worked for you and your people means it will work for us."

"But have you tried dialogue? Know the cause of their-"

"Again, we've tried anything.-"

"Not to sound disrespectful, ser. It's clear I need to know more of Arachne,-"

"Indeed."

Your brow quirked at what he had just said

"And I know that some kingdoms reject dialogue or any peaceful solution before it's has been offered," You took a breath, testing carefully your words., "But it does seems odd their stance of attacking, remains after the supposed peace offerings."

"We've known these realms for so long that a pacific solution has been discarded eons ago."

You blinked, but it was a good chance to put the spotlight on the both. It was clear that they loved to engage in war. Which concerned you.

"So, you're assuming they want war, and you're ready to engage without giving a chance for real words to be treated?"

"With all due respect, princess. Thelerian pacifist and foreign outlooks towards Arachne's belic conflicts are everything but helpful."

Miguel's jaw clenched, and so did Peter's. Tension in the room was heavier and denser than a black hole. He was set to make you angry, and it was hard to not bait into his game, but like your mother, you kept it calm and composed, even though you wanted to put a little datura into his drink.

"Quite ironic how roles invert here, ser D'Angelo."

"Beg your pardon?"

His voice came a bit louder and annoyed than he had intended to.

"Even though I do agree that I must know more about Arachne, I believe you must expand your knowledge in Theleria. Not the one you all now know. But the one before being The Fallen Kingdom."

Darko scowled but remained quiet, letting his haughty look to speak for him.

" What about it?"

"Theleria has been one of the most ancient lands of this continent, ser. And the one that has the most antique monarchy lines through Enethor."

"So?"

"It happens that we turned into a fallen kingdom by being exactly as you voice your opinion."

"And how is that?"

"Closed to any other option that wasn't war. And look at us now, ser. May the creator above forbid this land to fall under the same curse we have."

"That's... That's not gonna happen."

"It might happen if you keep refusing what you have overlooked so far."

"Are you threatening Arachne, your majesty?"

"I am not. I have no power to stand against your armies, ser. But only a fool would take a fair epitome of what happens when acting recklessly, as a threat."

Baron Darko's mouth gaped as his eyes widened in disbelief. How dared you to play him like that? Even worst in his own game.

"Or so is what my mother always says."

The other man that had initially been with him had kept quiet in the whole exchange. Watching and listening to the verbal spar where you had gotten by a few inches the upper hand.

"I am not opposed to war, gentlemen. But, like I said to the king once, if I am able to prevent unnecessary bloodshed, I will."

There wasn't much said after that, little pleasantries and polite goodbyes from your end, made you exit your room. Head high, even if the whole meeting was a fiasco, you would've still held your head high. Your legs shook as Peter followed you. A subtle yet knowing smile plastered on his lips.

In the room, however things weren't done. Not when Baron D'Angelo and Lady May approached.

"You still refuse to give us an answer when it comes to have heirs, your majesty."

"They'll come when the time is right."

Miguel didn't want to dwell into the subject. Children sure were in his list, but responsibilities had taken so much away from him already, that he forgot about them. He was past his thirties, and he could die in battle, leaving no heirs to follow his legacy.

"I guess the time is approaching sooner than we think, your majesty. What if the future queen is unable to conceive?"

His eyes narrowed at Darko's words. Even though his yapping was irksome, he had a fair point.

"As much as I differ with Baron Darko, you know the rules of this game, your majesty."

Lady May spoke with the same tired tone in her voice from before.

"The princess will bear the future heir of Arachne."

Miguel's words made Darko to tense and frown.

"But she knows so little about us! We don't know if her kingdom will remain loyal to us in a future if trouble arises, my lord."

He rubbed his hands nervously as Miguel sheathed his sword on his hip.

"Please, consider your other options, in case the princess is unable to-"

A hand dressed in the obsidian claw made the sharp fingertips to hold on Darko's chin, tips softly prickling at his skin.

"She will. Not your daughter. Am I clear?"

The Baron could only nod with a difficult gulp.

----

Miguel had taken a small break from all that just happened, Jessica had the most shit eating smile one could muster.

"She will, huh?"

"Aren't those the rules?"

"You seem a bit too enthusiastic about following those certain rules."

"I'm getting old, and they keep pestering me."

Miguel mumbled before removing his armor and plop on his ever trusting chair.

"You have to do something regarding Dana first."

"I know."

"Or else-"

"Jessica... I know."

His commander and right hand sighed, but preferred to change topics.

"Guess she has a temper after all."

A faint chuckle escaped Jessica's lips.

"Why did you assume she didn't?"

"She's not precisely someone that strikes me as vindictive, or demand her father's mistress death."

Miguel huffed an airy laugh while slicking his hair back, pensive.

"Peter explained why she... got so upset regarding that situation. Makes sense."

"So, you're knowing eachother more?"

"Apparently."

Jessica rolled her eyes with an exasperated grunt.

"She seems a little too fascinated with you, you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"Back in the council. She was giving you these dreamy puppy eyes."

Miguel's lips twitched in a little smile.

"So you better make a move, before someone else fool but brave enough does."

Bushy eyebrows furrowed. And only deepened when Jessica tossed a little envelope, smelling like roses and other pleasant herbs before going away.

For my muse.

The scribbled words were almost as stylish and perfect as yours, definitely another Thelerian.

Who dared to be foolish enough to pursue something out of his reach? He gave a quick reading to the letter and scoffed at the maudlin words. Not that he blamed the man for feeling so intensely.

After what transpired today, it felt like a little switch was turned on in him. It wasn't an outcome he had expected, but the balance had been tipped in your favor. Not entirely, but had enough member's approval to reaffirm his choice.

And he had to thank you for leaving those harrying members that demanded from him a heir, behind with their mouth shut for long enough.

Darko however always seemed to favor Dana. At first, they all agreed that the main mistress should occupy the throne. But Miguel never really regarded such things. Too busy fighting enemies in allied countries and waging political wars to actually have a pause and produce the next line of descendants.

He didn't know it if was coincidence or something greater than him that put that passageway in his path, and now not only had a true reason to get married, but someone that shared his convictions and dreams for his country.

And, he was sure his future heirs would be beautiful.

Just like you.

The letter had annoyed him, but also amused him. A man that had only saw you and spoke to you twice, put all his feelings in the letter that was turned into ashes by now.

But he had to give that fool some credit. Unlike him, he knew how to express and convey his feelings without any apparent issue, yet he wasn't able to talk about something else that wasn't work and duties related.

With a sigh, he changed into a more casual attire and picked his sword. Then, ventured in his palace, looking for you.

----

You were about to leave for the gardens to take the afternoon tea with Margo and Gwen when Miguel's shadow loomed over from your bedroom's doorframe. A little jolt buzzed through your body, startling you.

"My lord, not to be... disrespectful but, I think it's time for you to knock on my door."

Miguel chuckled and motioned for you to come closer.

"Come. Follow me."

With a quirk of your eyebrow, you obeyed and followed him. Long legs took him further as you tried your utter best to keep up with him. Miguel's ears perked at the sound of your steps hastily following him. A pleased smile was etched in his face to then suddenly stop before a room.

With a deep sigh and a bit of pantings, you also stopped.

"Close your eyes, Princesa."

"W-What?"

"Close your eyes. Please."

The confused look in your face made his eyes soften and a smile to stretch wider as you obeyed him once more.

Quite compliant

And oh so pretty. His eyes stared at your face for what seemed forever, time had stopped specially when his deep ruby eyes stared at your lips, and then trailed themselves down to the collarbone. Before his eyes could rake you over, his throat was cleared and he opened the doors for you.

He then gave your lower back a gentle push for you to move forward. He took your hand and guided you inside. Warm fingers curling softly on his big and weathered hands.

He took you further into the room, the scent of the ever familiar herbs and flowers filled in your lungs, subduing your rising nervousness.

"Open them."

You did, and your heart beat with such strenght you had to clutch harder on his hand at the sight. It was a much more advanced laboratory from what you had back at Theleria.

In one side, you had the many and an endless looking supply of herbs and other medicinal things. And in the other side, you had the tools. Canisters filled in with strange liquids that boiled, glass containers, a oak table sturdy enough to bring and attend anyone in need of a surgery, and of course, many books related Arachne's medical story.

"This..."

"Is yours."

His words and gentle smile had your eyes glossy while a shivering laugh escaped your lips.

"Mine? All Mine?"

"All yours."

He nodded while enveloping your hands with his.

"This is-... Oh by the heavens. My lord. This is... too much for me, I-"

"Princesa."

Your eyes settled on his warm expression.

"I know you will make a good use of it."

"Your highness"

You mumbled while squeezing his hands a bit tighter.

"I... I don't even know what to say."

"A 'thank you, my king' would suffice"

A little laugh and his heart skipped a beat.

"You are part now of the medical staff. Their leader, you'll be a great mentor to them."

"Will you visit me, my lord?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Of course. Seeing you is always good. Though I must ask. Do... you fear me? Or feel something strongly negative towards me?"

"I'm afraid the question confuses me, Princesa."

"Let me rephrase that question. Do you feel averted towards me or repulsed?"

All the opposite.

"It is not personal if I don't approach, Princesa. I've been busy. I'm always busy-"

"I... I know that, ser. But, you're always seeming to avoid me until something that requires me appears."

Miguel's brow twitched at the lack of reply, instead you spoke again.

"Political or not... I wouldn't like to marry an acquaintance, much less a stranger."

A soft blush crept on your cheek and you inhaled deeply before mumbling.

"That's why... I... I'd like to know my future husband better. If its not too much to ask."

Going from acquaintances to be called future husband surely made his brain a puddle and his heart to accelerate in a way that for once didn't concerned him.

"Would you... join me tomorrow at a lunch in the meadows?"

You gulped, and casted your eyes down, a bit too embarrassed to meet his bewildered stare.

"Its alright if you can't go, we can know eachother-"

"I'll be there."

Words came so soft and like butter from his mouth that you stared at him with round eyes in surprise.

"We have a lot to discuss anyway. I think it's time for us to properly address our wedding, your highness."

"As you wish, my lord."

The sweet smile on your face made him want to forever have it tattooed in his mind.

The way he looked at you didn't sit right in the spying and vindictive blue eyes that followed you almost everywhere.

Her heart broke upon seeing the kind of look Miguel threw your way. All different from hers, full of annoyance and cold hearted, nearly in despise. But you, had managed to fulfil one of her dreams with such easiness it made his own heart to crash and burn in anger.

This wasn't over. It would be when Dana said it was. With a new target in mind, the main mistress disappeared in the shadows. Unable to widstand the momentarily defeat. She came first, she had the right to that crown, his heirs and him. Dana would have him, either the good or the bad way.

And Miguel always seemed to learn the bad way.

---

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dixons-sunshine · 6 days

Note

Hey!! I really REALLY love your girl dad Daryl series and I thought maybe I could request something :) Imagine Daryl building a doll house or something (maybe a cute little mini motorcycle) for his daughter I can totally see him doing something like that it’s all I can think about when I see this picture. He would totally get the materials from one of his supply runs because I headcanon that everytime he brings something for his daughter (like a doll or something)

His Motorcycle Princess | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When his daughter was born, Daryl swore to himself that he'd do everything in his power to ensure that she remained happy at all costs. So when she asked for her very own motorcycle, who was he to deny her that?

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc (the bridge exploding doesn't happen, so Daryl never goes looking for Rick and he's happily living in Alexandria).

Warnings: Swearing, slight suggestive talk.

Word count: 1.3k.

A/n: Okay but why can't Daryl be the father of my future kids? He'd be the best dad ever. All jokes aside, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, may I ask what the fuck that is?” you asked in surprise at at the sight before you, folding your arms over your chest.

Daryl looked up from his workbench, his ocean coloured eyes meeting your eyes before glancing back down at the big pink object in front of him. “S'a toy bike,” he stated plainly, patting the toy for added effect.

“Okay,” you drawled, nodding your head slowly. “But... Why?”

“S'fer Hazel,” he explained, picking up a screwdriver and resuming his task of assembling the toy motorcycle. “She asked fer a bike like mine, but obviously I ain't 'bout to assemble a real one fer a five year old, so I got this instead.”

You walked down the steps into the garage and walked over to your husband, standing slightly behind him as you watched him tighten the screws of the toy. “Where'd you even get this?”

“I was lucky 'nough to find a toy store tha' was left relatively untouched. Found this hidin' behind one of the shelves,” he explained, glancing over to you and nervously gulping at the close proximity. It amazed him that even after so many years together, you still managed to make butterflies erupt in his stomach.

“Aah, okay,” you nodded, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hazel is gonna freak out over this. This is gonna be her new favourite thing in the world.”

“Ya really think so?” Daryl asked, looking at you hopefully.

You smiled softly at him. There was lot of things people could say about the archer. People who didn't know him personally would call him rude, obnoxious and cold. Those who knew better would call him loyal, determined and caring. When it came to you, there was a lot you could say about your beautiful husband. He was kind, caring, loving, considerate, observant, and so much more. And you could also proudly say that Daryl was an amazing dad. Nobody was perfect and the archer had his moments that he wasn't proud of, but all in all, there was no denying that Daryl would do anything for your daughter.

“I know she'll love it,” you reassured him, wrapping your arms around him from behind and resting your chin on his shoulder. “You could bring her a painted rock and she'd love it. As long as it's from you, she doesn't care.”

“Nah, she hated tha' bunny I brought back fer her,” he replied, closing his eyes at the warm, soft feeling of you pressed against his back.

“It's only because it was covered in walker blood,” you explained. “After I washed it, she wouldn't let the thing go.”

Daryl couldn't deny that. The aforementioned toy had been a proud edition to Hazel's stuffed animal collection for two years at that point. She loved that bunny more than anything, favouring it to join her when she played tea parties with you and Daryl. It made the archer's heart swell with love, just knowing that his daughter appreciated what he did for her made everything worth it. All the battles he fought, all the blood that was shed, it was all worth it in the end. His wife and his daughter were safe, and he'd never been happier in his life than he was in those moments in the small home you shared in Alexandria.

With you still firmly pressed against his back, he got back to work. The toy was almost done; he only had a few finishing touches he had to do. Admittedly, it was a little harder to do so with you pressed against him from behind, but he refused to ask you to move. He'd much rather work on the toy for a few extra minutes than lose the comfort your mere touch brought him.

You watched his hands intently, your mind unwillingly wandering to a place that wasn't needed at that moment. However, you couldn't help it, the knowledge of what those hardworking hands could do in other activities taking over your senses.

“You know, this gives me deja vu,” you started, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah? How so?” Daryl asked, tightening the last screw into the toy.

“Remember back when you were building your own bike five years ago?” you asked, continuing when he nodded. “Seeing you hard at work, doing something you were skilled at really did something to me. It was because you were building your bike that we even have a kid at all now. And now you're building a motorcycle for our kid.”

Daryl chuckled at the memory. “Never knew grease could turn ya on like tha' until then.”

“When it's on my handsome husband's hands? You best believe it does.”

Daryl turned around and wrapped his arms around you, staring down at you lovingly. “And now we have our own kid.”

“Our own little family,” you agreed, smiling up at him. “I love you, Dar.”

“Love ya too, peach.”

“Mama! Daddy!”

Before Daryl could lean down and capture your lips in his for a kiss, your daughter bounded down the steps. The two of you sent each other an amused look, reluctantly pulling apart. Hazel came over to Daryl and held her hands up in a silent plea to be picked up, and the archer complied.

“Hey there, Hazelnut,” Daryl greeted her with a fond smile, placing a light kiss to the top of her head.

“Hi, Daddy,” she giggled, sending a wave at you. “Hi, Mama!”

“Hi, Baby,” you chuckled, walking over to rub her hair affectionately. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Yeah! I'm ready to play now!” she exclaimed happily, a toothy smile on display.

“Well, how 'bout ya and I race our bikes?” Daryl questioned, capturing Hazel's attention.

“But Daddy, only you have a bike.”

“Not anymore,” you said in a playful tone, sharing an excited glance with the archer. “Daddy got you something.”

Daryl turned around with her in his arms and showed her the bright pink toy motorcycle. Hazel let out a surprised gasp before laughing in excitement, throwing her arms around Daryl's neck and hugging him as tightly as she could.

“Thank you, Daddy! Thank you! Thank you!” she exclaimed in excitement.

Daryl chuckled fondly and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “Yer welcome, Hazelnut.”

“Now I can be like you!” she giggled, wiggling slightly to be put down. When she was, she ran over to the workbench and stared in awe at the toy.

“Yeah,” you agreed, walking over to her to ensure she didn't accidentally hurt herself with the tools that were still on the workbench. “You just need your own crossbow now.”

Hazel gasped in delight and turned to Daryl. “Daddy, can I get a crossbow?”

“'Course ya can. How else would ya help me on my hunts?”

“Yay!” Hazel happily clapped her hands. “Mama, I'm getting a crossbow!”

Daryl smiled and walked over to the two of you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and playfully ruffling Hazel's hair. He chuckled at the giggle she let out, feeling content and comfortable as he listened to Hazel's babbling as she regarded over all the places she would go with her very own motorcycle, even to the moon. There was nothing better in his life than moments like these. This was what he fought for. And he would do it all over again if it meant keeping the two most important people in his life safe.

Because without you, his beautiful wife, and Hazel, your perfect daughter, his life would never be the same.

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luvrxbunny · 7 months

Text

hot pink

Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!Reader

Prompt: Pegging

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, tiny bit of addiction talk, reader doesn’t cum (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.5k

A/N: this is so long omg i hope u guys like it <3 (not proofread) and i know basically nothing about pegging except that its hot so if anything is explained in-correctly just shhh and pretend pls

“So you just let her…” Steve trails off, too stunned to finish his sentence. Eddie is red from laughter and a twinge of embarrassment at Steve’s reaction. “Yes, but Steve-” He cuts himself off with another laugh as Steve’s eyes widen comically at Eddie’s confirmation. “You have to just try it, man.” Steve’s already shaking his head as he takes a sip of his beer, trying to think it over but unable to see a scenario in which he’d enjoy himself.

“Look, Eddie.” He chuckles a bit. “Some guys are into that and-” Eddie cuts him off with a groan. “No, Harrington, you’re not getting me. I didn’t want to! She convinced me and promised that we could do whatever I wanted if I didn’t like it.” He pauses for a bit for dramatic effect. “But I fuckin’ loved it.” Steve breathes out a surprised sigh at Eddie’s words. “It feels weird at first, sure, but once she finds this spot. She says it’s my prostate-” He scoots closer to Steve to explain. “So apparently you know how she has a G-Spot? Your girl?” He waits for Steve to nod at him.

“Yeah, I know.” Steve’s face is bright red, embarrassed at this entire conversation. “Okay, yeah, it’s like we have one of those but it’s in our ass. So I’m kinda like… Does that mean we’re supposed to have something up our asses?” He raises his hands in defense when Steve turns to him with a disbelieving stare. “I’m just saying! Like- why is it there? If not to be played with? I don’t know, man, seems weird.” Eddie’s half-joking now, saying these things mostly to get a rise out of Steve, amused by how red his face gets. “Whatever. Just like- don’t knock it ‘til you try it, y’know?” Steve nods silently at Eddie and the conversation moves on, they light up another joint and talk about where Eddie’s next gig is supposed to be. Steve’s mind, however, never moves on.

You’ve had this thought too. Eddie’s girlfriend, Bunny, had gifted you a strap-on about six months ago after convincing Eddie to let her peg him. She says it’s almost better than sex, despite the large drop in stimulation she's receiving. You thought she was crazy when she gave you the hot pink strap, you tried to give it back immediately, without even fully understanding what it was for. She and Eddie are just so much more- aggressive than you and Steve. The pair always has some new sex story to share with you two and you’ve never found any of them appealing, until she told you that one.

“No- he was so cute too! He was face down on the bed- I know.” She giggles in agreement when your eyes widen with your smile. “And he wouldn’t shut up! He was whining almost the whole time, his hands were like- ugh he’s so cute. He was like trying to reach back for me the whole time!” You try not to show how her story was heating your body up as she squeals about Eddie. You’re imagining Steve in his place and the thought- although it’s one you’ve never had before- becomes the main thing on your mind. It just got worse over the six months of you keeping it a secret. You didn’t want to over-share, unsure if Eddie was okay with the fact that she told you, and not wanting to scare Steve off. The kinkiest thing the two of you have done is have sex in a changing room, you haven’t even brought toys into the bedroom yet so how are you supposed to ask him if you can stick a silicone rod up his ass? You can’t. So the strap collected dust at the top of your closet.

Steve comes home almost drunk, tipsy enough that Wayne had to drive him home and he stinks of weed, letting you know he had a good night with Eddie. He can stand on his own, not swaying or anything but he has this delirious smile on his face and a cloudiness over his eyes that tells you he’s intoxicated. He opens his arms for you the moment you open the door and buries you in a hug. You wave behind him aimlessly, hoping Wayne is in the driveway and can see your appreciation. He walks you inside, your face still buried in his chest and your hands wrapped around his waist. “Missed you s’much, honeybun.”

You snort at the nickname and pull away from him, eyes closing in relaxation when he presses a wet, loving kiss to your forehead. “Oh-” He sees his slobber on your forehead and blushes with an adorably embarrassed smile as he pulls his sleeve to his palm and rubs his spit off your head. “Sorry, darling. That’s so na-” You cut him off with a giggle, crush him into another hug, and lean up onto your tip-toes to kiss him properly. He exhales a sigh of relief, of contentedness as your lips cover his before you pull away. “I missed you too, baby.” He beams like a little boy at your statement, his chest filling with love for you. “Good.”

You both giggle your way to his room and he changes as you sit on his bed, watching him. He sobers up a bit in the process, needing his brain power since you’re not helping him. He fumbles with his button-up pajama shirt and looks over at you pathetically. He could do it himself if he really tried but he has fat, dumb fingers, while yours are cute and dainty, so he’d rather just ask you for help. You smile at him knowingly and slowly walk over to him, reaching your hands out to button his shirt while he holds your eye contact. “Soo.. How was your time with Eddie?” You ask gently, finally breaking the silence.

He thinks through the hangout again, trying to decide which part he wants to tell you first but then the memory of a certain conversation smacks into his mind. You can see he’s remembered something big by the sharp inhale he takes, he also straightens his shoulders, fixing his posture a bit as red leaks into his face. “What?” You ask with a giggle, surprised at his reaction and unable to think of what would even make him react this way. He stops your hands on his buttons and that brings your eyes to his, seeing their fear. You pull away from his shirt, a bit scared at his intensity. His eyes flicker to the bed for a moment. “Do you wanna sit?”

You nod silently but now your mind is running wild with thoughts.

Eddie got him to do crack. Now he’s addicted. Fuck. No- No, Eddie probably ordered a hooker or something and cheated on Bunny! Or he ordered the hooker for Steve… And he cheated… No. He would never. So..? Oh my god. It’s meth. Steve’s addicted to meth.

Steve sits silently beside you, his hands wringing each other nervously, only worsening your thoughts. He takes a breath to say something but loses his nerve.

What if she thinks it’s too weird? What if she leaves you over this, goes to all her friends, and talks about how Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington wants a dick up his ass. Shit. Should I just abort?.. No. I mean, she wouldn’t do that, would she? No. No, of course not.

“Um.” He finally starts and your body tenses, preparing for the worst. He won’t even look at you, his gaze is fixed on his nails as he picks at his cuticles. “I- Eddie talked about something. I kinda- It sounded intriguing- Well. It- It sounded scary at first.” He breathes out an incredulous chuckle. “I was like- No way. But then- uh. Then I imagined it with… With you and-” A shaky sigh falls from his lips and you turn to him. His face is beet red and his hands are shaking lightly when he rubs them against his thighs, trying to help with the clamminess.

“And after I did that it- The idea became very, very appealing. Like- It’s kinda embarrassing how bad I- How badly I want it…” You begin to get a bit nervous at how he’s dancing around the topic, and how vague he’s being. He turns to you for a moment, his face getting redder when he realizes you’ve been looking at him. “Don’t- Just uh, don’t judge me too fast, okay? Eddie, he- he made it sound really- really good, sweetheart.”

Your heart is racing, his intense gaze piercing into your soul. “You’re scaring me, Steve.” His eyes widen and he takes your hand into his, you try not to make a face at how damp his palm is. “It’s- I mean it’s not bad. I hope you don’t think it is. Uhm…” He takes a deep breath and breaks your eye contact to analyze the bedsheets. “Have you heard of, um… p-pegging?”

A light spreads through your body and you fight the smile that wants to crack your face open, trying to stay more neutral. “Yeah… Why?” He looks up at you hesitantly, his eyes are scared and desperate. His eyelids flutter as his lips tremble, “I - I want-” He whines and pulls away from you, conceding. “Nevermind. It’s- Fuck. It’s probably too late to backtrack, huh?” His hand combs through his hair, embarrassed, stressed, and scared for your reaction.

You stay silent for a bit as Steve gets lost in his thoughts, you’re considering your options and ultimately decide to show him. You stand and start walking to the closet, Steve exhales a frantic sigh and you hear him stand behind you. “You- Don’t be weird about it, I just-” You grab the box and turn around, holding it out to show him, picture side first. His mouth shuts immediately. He’s frozen where he stands, just staring at the box in your hands. Now you’re growing nervous at his silence. You chuckle nervously and walk back to where you were sitting on the bed, handing him the box and his eyes never leave it.

“Bunny gave this to me a while ago… I never said anything ‘cus I didn’t think you’d want to but-” He finally lifts his gaze to you and you lose your breath at his state, already needy and wanting. “We could… If- I mean if you want we can t-try?” You feel like you’re vibrating in your seat, anxious but excited at the same time because Steve has been nodding at you since your sentence started. You giggle and take the box from his hand, turning to put it in your top drawer until the time is right. You giggle at your thought before turning back around to voice it to Steve.

He’s fumbling with his buttons, his pants already off and a prominent bulge in his boxers.

“Oh! Right- Right now? You want it right now?” You ask, audibly shocked and his hands freeze. He looks at you, embarrassed and you instantly feel bad for your tone. “I thought you’d be too drunk, baby.” He shakes his head lightly. “I’m not drunk anymore.” His tone is so soft, delicate as he speaks and it brings a smile to your face. You look him up and down, your smile widening at the dark spot spreading around his tip. You walk over to him slowly and watch his breathing speed up the closer you get.

“Then get on the bed.” You say with an innocent tilt to your voice that ruins him. He moans at your words and basically throws himself on the bed. He’s wiggling his clothes off as you read the instructions for the strap, trying to figure out how you’re supposed to situate it over your hips. You get it up your legs before having to look back at the instructions, following each step as carefully as you could, but still left with the leather straps sliding down your legs instead of holding your dick in place.

“Baby?” Embarrassment and a bit of amusement flood you as Steve calls out. You turn around begrudgingly and bite your lip at the sight. He’s laid out across his bed, his entire body flushed and blushing for you, his dick kissing his belly as his hips thrust into the air gently. You walk over to him with a shy smile on your face, holding the strap up on your hip as you climb over him. “I think I need your help.”

He’s mesmerized by the silicone cock, how it hands between your legs, how the hot pink color matches your character perfectly, like it’s meant to be your dick. “Yeah. Yes, I can help.” He sits up and starts pulling random straps until something tightens, then does the same with the other side. “Thanks, baby. Can you make sure the back straps are all secure?” You turn around and bend for him, not totally aware of the way you’re putting yourself on display for him. His eyes can’t help but gravitate to your ass, admiring the way the leather straps dig into the plush of it, leaving little indents on your skin. “A- all set, sweetheart.” He says with a light pat on your ass to tell you that you can turn back around.

You turn to him with a smirk and he just stares up at you. His pink lips are wet and bitten and so alluring. You lean down and bury them in a kiss, smothering his lips with yours and breathing in every whine he gives. You pull away with a smile and he makes no move to flip over, his hands just rest on your hips as you stare at him. You lift off of him, and all he gives you is a confused stare… Himbo.

“Face down-” His breathing shudders. “Ass up, sweetheart.” He whines and flips over for you, but leaves his ass low, his dick flush with the bed. You shake your head fondly and climb over him, your legs on each side of his calves and you reach for his hips, letting your fingers ghost over his skin before pulling them up to rest against yours. Steve whines at the feeling of your cock between his ass, he wants to pull away but your hands convince him to stay put. Your thumb is rubbing back and forth, soothing him as you lean forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” He shivers and you pull away to reach over to your nightstand, grabbing his lube and squirting a generous amount into your hand before returning to your previous spot.

“Okay. I’m pretty sure I have to stretch you out first. Is that okay?” He whines, sounding a bit upset and his hips wiggle so subtly you almost don’t catch it. You rest your un-lubricated hand on his lower back, stilling his movements. “How- Is that gonna take long?” You’re a bit confused by his question, silent as you figure out your answer. He turns to look at you over his shoulder, ensuring that you heard him and then he sees your confused expression. “I really want it.”

His voice dissolves into a whine and you almost forgo it, almost convincing yourself that he doesn’t need prep- but the fear of tearing his pink little hole stops you. “It’ll just take a minute.” You spit the words at him, growing just as desperate as he is as your finger plunges into his hole, a bit faster than you probably should’ve but earning you a shouting moan from his pretty lips.

“Don’t wanna hurt your little hole, baby.” You tell him just to add insult to injury. He’s whimpering your name against the sheets, his eyes shut tight as he squeezes around your finger and you see his cock jump. You push in another finger and he takes it like a champ, begging for a third long before you planned.

Once you’re done stretching him his entire body is hot and shaking, his cock leaking onto the sheets but he’s still unsatisfied. You line your cock up with his entrance and smile at the instant whimper it gets from Steve. You’re watching the way the silicone dick presses into his hole, the way he’s pushing back on it and this strapon must've figured out a way to connect to your nervous system because you swear you can feel his heat on it. You’re confused and entranced by how it looks, how it feels, and how he sounds. “M’gonna fuck you now, Stevie.” His dick twitches as he groans at your words and his hips press back onto your dick, teasing you with his warmth and friction. “Oh fuck. Please.”

You work your tip into him and a little nub at the bottom of the strap pushes into your clit, only furthering your fantasies of being able to feel real pleasure from his ass. You moan with him as you slide in. You prepped him well enough that you’re able to get half your dick in before he’s whining at you to slow down. You rest your front on his back and he can feel your boobs squishing into him, making the whole experience that more arousing. “You feel so good, love.”

You moan into his ear, low and sultry to fuck him up even further. He moans your name, eyes shooting open and his hips rock him back, forcing the rest of your cock into him and accidentally ramming you right into his prostate. “FU-” His curse is cut off with a breathless gasp and he collapses onto the bed. His arms are covering his obviously red face and he’s letting out shouting groans into the mattress as you grind yourself into that spot again and again. You never pull out very far, too scared that you’ll lose his special button.

His thighs are already shaking against yours and it twinges arousal in your stomach. You bottom out inside Steve and grind yourself into the base, moaning his name and riling him up. He can’t fathom why you’re moaning, he knows you can’t feel him but you’re moaning like he’s fucking you, and it’s fucking him up. His hips swivel back onto your dick, trying to get as much stimulation as he can. It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced, it feels like you’re everywhere, and he feels so full. The thought sparks a memory of you telling him the same thing and his balls tense at the role reversal. The fact that it's now you fucking him, filling him to the brim, moaning at how tight he is.

He cries out your name and you watch his hand uncurl from the sheets in favor of sliding between his legs. You pull out and start fucking him as quickly as you can, surprised at how much it actually exerts but the sore muscles are worth it to hear the way his moans increase. He becomes frantic and pathetic, with high whines of “So good, love it s’much. Love you s’much.” begin to litter his incoherent moans and you know he’s getting close. You watch his hole squeeze you more frequently the closer he gets and you wrap your hand around his waist. You smack his hand away from his dick and rest your entire body over him as you wrap your hand around him- causing him to collapse entirely as he moans your name. You’re jostled as he crashes to the bed but you keep up your pace as best you can.

It’s a struggle to jerk him off against the mattress but his moans tell you that he doesn’t mind in the slightest. You’re able to fuck into him more easily from this angle and it shows, your pace is doubled and he’s basically screaming a loose frame of your name. The back of his neck is burning red and his moans are climbing, warning you of his impending orgasm. You smile, proud of yourself and him, and lean down to kiss the back of his neck, snapping his last straw.

He shouts into the mattress, it’s barely a moan, closer to a sob or a scream as his cock throbs painfully. He’s spilling against the mattress, completely soaking the sheets with his cum as his body shakes against you. Your hand is slick on him, now flooded with his cum as he stutters into you, trying to fuck himself into your fist while fucking himself onto your cock. You thrust into him slowly, cooing into and kissing his ears as he comes down slowly. He twitches into you occasionally, gradually becoming overly sensitive to your movements but every time you stop he presses his hips up from the bed, forcing you to thrust into him again. So you stop stopping.

You grind into him slowly, listening to the little mewls he lets out when you land close to his prostate. It’s like you’re massaging his insides, stroking along his soft, sensitive walls and eventually he falls asleep that way, leaving you with the struggle of flipping him over to clean him up but you don’t mind in the slightest.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader smut #stranger things smut #kinktober #luvrxkinktober #kinktober smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #kinktober 2023

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cagedpuppygirl · 1 year

Text

The first thing my mistress did when she adopted me was take me to the doctor to get my brain "augmented". It was the normal accepted procedure for pets. Her wishes however weren't.

Most owners simply locked their pets permanently on a low level of cognition leaving them happy, drooling and oblivious.

She wanted my intelligence to be malleable. I'd stay my usual sharp shelf except when in the presence of her scent.

While she was at work I'd resist my new role as her pet and think of all the arguments for why she should let me go back to my old life and how I was really a strong capable independent person. Then she'd get back and even just her presence in the room would make my brain slow down and stutter. But that was nothing compared to when she'd take off her shoes and push her feet in my face. Or when she'd take my face and shove it in her armpits.

When faced with aroma of her girl musk I was reduced to all she ever said I was. A dumb drooling dog. I could no longer even understand what she was saying to me. She'd speak for what felt like hours but it was like a comforting stream. I could only pick up on a few words like "dumb" and "bitch".

On some days she'd strap her used underwear across my face leaving me brainless for the whole day. I hated to admit it to myself but I actually enjoyed those days more than the ones I spent lucid. Everything was novel, fun and pleasurable. Time went by fast and I never got bored. On those days I'd just play with all the toys she gave me and try to pleasure myself.

I didn't admit it to myself but it became a disappointment whenever I was left with my mind intact. I even started sniffing different things around the house to get a small high off of mistress' aroma. The increasing spouts of mindlessness were also taking a toll on me in other ways. It was subtle at first but I could start to see my mind slowing down. The effects of mistresses musk lingering a bit longer with each huff. And after each huff my mind recovering just that little bit less.

Even if I could see it I couldn't stop it. I was addicted to that divine aroma. One day after leaving for work mistress left her used panties laying on her bed. Seeing the opportunity I immediately snatched them and started sniffing her heavenly smell.

I promised myself it'd be quick. Just long enough to cum. But after my first orgasm I just continued. Each orgasm leaving me more mindless and blank. Until I wasn't even sure if I was touching myself or just coming due to her heavenly scent.

I don't know how long she was watching me, but by the time she revealed herself I didn't even try to hide. She looked pleased and whispered some human words that were by now far beyond my reach.

After that day I stopped having negative thoughts about being Mistress' pet. In fact after that day I stopped having a lot of thoughts, but that didn't really bother me.

#i bark #bd/sm slave #bd/sm pet #bd/sm dynamic #hypnosis #brainwashing #mind control #mind conditioning #petpl4y #dumbification #iq reduction

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gh0st-author · 1 month

Text

dress.

pairing: William James Moriarty x reader summary: Oh, tempting William was so deliciously amusing for you to do. To kindle the flame you knew was dancing behind his eyes, to fuel it in its confines and observe him attempting to conceal it and thaw it out.

tags: fluff, very suggestive (nothing explicit but it is heated)

warnings: as i said it is very suggestive, they also unalive a nobleman

A/N: so this wasn't originally meant to be posted, it was just something in my drafts, but since it happened to be William's birthday today i thought i might as well finish it. so happy birthday Liam here's your cake

Another glance in his direction, across the crowded hall. Another hidden smile from him. You knew you shouldn't; this game you were playing was too perilous, too dangerous. You weren't supposed to goad William like this. But you simply couldn't resist. Usually, you or Albert were the ones who found themselves at these events, because as the oldest brother he had too keep up the appearances most often, but this night was different. Tonight, William was present as well. He was right beside his brother, a picture-perfect gentleman, charming and captivating. It was an incredibly rare occurrence as he preferred to work behind the scenes, not really drawing attention to himself more than necessary. And unlucky for you, all your attention happened to be on him tonight, despite the risk of it endangering the mission. But it was too addicting. The music too sensual. The candlelight too dim. The perfumes too intoxicating. And the game you presented him with too enjoyable. Another taste of your wine. Another brush of his gaze. You needed to make sure that no one was the wiser to the desperation building beneath your skin. You were dancing around an open flame, stretching out your body above it, hoping to not get incarcerated by the proximity. Still, you couldn't be blamed, it was so rare for you to see your lover adorned so dashingly.

It was all subtle. Your glass against your lips. Your tongue lightly catching the droplets soaking them. His intense glance catching the act. And it was fun, so incredibly amusing to for once toy with him like this given the chance, to slowly gnaw away at his immaculate control that he prided himself on so and wore like a mask. You still remembered the words you whispered to him in the darkness of your bedroom earlier today, the memory of them flashing through your mind making your lips stretch into a devious grin. This is a secret, but my gown for tonight... it was bought specifically with you in mind. Much more than wearing it, I am anticipating what you will do with it later tonight after we return. You could still feel the tremble that raced down William's spine, could still hear his low, tortured groan and uneven whisper of: Do not tempt me, darling. Being aware of the effect you had on your lover and feeling the desire simmering between you too was heady, to say the least.

Alas, no matter how much you wanted to give into your desires, you were a performer, both for him and for the Lord you were tasked with distracting tonight. And a performer had to play her role outstandingly. Your secret moments and glances would have to stay just that— secret. For no one could know you were affiliated with him. You were just another face in the crowd, an unassuming bejeweled rose without thorns. These glimmering banquets were your battlefield, your wit and your charm your weapons, which you brandished flawlessly with every new job you were assigned by the brothers. Meeting William and working with him only served to hone them more— a simple touch here, a sweet whisper there, and your targets were putty under your fingers, ready to follow you wherever you wished. Which usually happened to be their untimely but deserved demise at the hands of you or one of the others from the group. And for as long as they and William had any use of you, you would continue to play your part in their plans without a fault.

Deciding against continuing this game between you two for now, you downed your glass and set out to find your target— Lord Brownlow. He was a local aristocrat rumored to kidnap young ladies from such events and traffic them on the black market. In other words, a perfect target to be bewitched and disposed of by you. After a quick search, you found him, surrounded by numerous important individuals. Even from where you were standing you could see his false smiles and his calculating glances to the women around him. Your act already in place, you sauntered over to him, gown swaying with your movements, your practiced smile of awe and admiration plastered on your face. "Lord Brownlow, a pleasure to meet you."

You were a novelty, a new interesting toy for him to play with. The conversation flowed from your lips effortlessly, each word a careful trap meant to ensnare the Lord's attention, to keep him guessing and wanting more. Each move a thought-out maneuver to entice him and cloud his judgment. You listened to his stories attentively, smiled and nodded when expected, and stroked his ego when he so wished. And what an ego he had. He was so filled to the brim with his own self-importance that he steered you around forcing you into a conversation with any noble he could, no doubt to brag about his own status and to show off how well off he was. Still, you participated beautifully, never letting your true nature show.

After who knows what number of nobles, he turned to you, still keen on continuing. "Do you mind if I introduce you to another one of my acquaintances?

You smiled at him mindlessly, feigned admiration painted across your features. As if you were truly interested in anything he had to say, hanging onto his every word. "None at all, Lord Brownlow. Please, lead the way."

Pleased with your apparent high regard for him and your respect, he hurriedly led you through the throngs of people, seeking out the aforementioned noble. Your gaze darted around, attempting to pinpoint the person in question. Only when his gait hastened with renewed purpose, having found who he was searching for, did you manage to catch a glimpse of the man that had caught his eye.

And...

Oh, well, who would've thought? It seemed that tonight was indeed your lucky night, for he was leading you straight to the object of your obsession tonight. You briefly considered the possibility of William having arranged this beforehand, but the look of delighted surprise on his face as you and the Lord neared him convinced you otherwise. So, a lucky coincidence it seemed. Or a fate-given opportunity? No, of course not. Even though it might not have been planned for him and the Lord to converse like this, it was far from a coincidence. You knew William and him were acquainted, but by the genuine eagerness with which Lord Brownlow was leading you to him, it seemed as if William took the phrase 'keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer' quite literally. Always aligning and governing his pawns, that cunning mind of his.

The Lord halted right in front of him, proudly puffing out his chest. No doubt, hoping to impress you with his arsenal of connections— with his importance. "This is Lord William Moriarty. Second son of the deceased Earl Moriarty. We met a short while ago and happened to become quite familiar with each other."

William turned to regard you fully, his scarlet gaze bright but betraying nothing. As you stood before him like this, you felt weirdly exposed, despite the opulent gown— or maybe exactly because of it. You arrived separately so as to not raise any suspicion so he didn't have the chance to admire you from up close. His face was a perfect polite mask, but you knew he was drinking up your visage like a man starved. Everywhere his gaze touched burned so pleasurably you never wished for it to stop. In fact, all of this silence and patience, waiting and pining in anticipation, made you more eager— made you crave more. You wanted him to trace wherever he looked with his hands, his lips. Your own hands were shaking from holding back from touching him.

Acting like the perfect pawn you were, you buried your need deep beneath your vast experience in lying and deceit, using it as a cover to dampen the inferno in you, and held out your hand courteously for him to kiss. Not a trace of a woman currently longing, yearning, craving. "I don't believe we have been acquainted, Lord Moriarty."

Never taking his eyes off yours, he raised your hand to his lips, leaving it there much longer than necessary. The kiss was almost a promise— or a threat. You weren't sure which. "Indeed we are not, I would have remembered a woman as stunning as you are."

You fought your instinctive pull to draw closer to him, to see just how close you could slot your body against his. To get lost in his knowing gaze. Instead, you chose to slowly pull your hand away and giggle behind it. "Oh, you flatter me, my Lord. I am sure someone of your caliber has ample choice of ladies aiming for your attention."

The smile he gave you was pure serpentine curling of the lips, the look in his eyes pure hunter regarding his prey. "I assure you, my attentions lay elsewhere."

My attention is only on you, his look seemed to say. Your heart stuttered in your chest, beating so loud you were afraid he and Lord Brownlow could hear it. So careful. They had to be so incredibly careful. They were threading a fine line, one misstep and it could all come crashing down around them.

"His attention is only always focused on his work, he never entertains the women around him." Lord Brownlow sighed, seemingly unaware of the building tension between you and William. A perfect figure of an older gentleman concerned for the youth, as if he was giving sound advice out of genuine benevolence. "Honestly, Lord Moriarty, you should follow your older brother's example. Now, Lord Albert knows how to entertain a lady. It's not a good idea for a noble gentleman such as yourself to always keep his head in the books."

William diverted his attention from you to the Lord, chuckling gently as if this entire meeting was just a pleasant interaction. A born noble navigating the labyrinth of high society magnificently. The irony was not lost on you. "I will keep your words in mind, Lord Brownlow."

It was getting harder and harder to keep focused with him so close, yet thoroughly out of reach. It was due time for you to leave and initiate the next phase of the plan. Deciding that one last stunt was in order, you grabbed your target's hand, feigning interest in him, but you were only looking at the man in front of you. "Lord Brownlow, I am sure Lord Moriarty knows how to entertain himself. What do you say we make our way to the dance floor." You ran your hand down the front of your dress as if showing it off, but in truth, you drew attention to the way the corset hugged your curves. "After all, I just bought this dress today, it would be a shame for me to wear it and not be seen dancing in it."

It was a momentary weakness, a flash of that fire in his eyes gone instantaneously, almost as fast as it appeared. Oh, he looked so composed yet his self-control was frying at the edges, unraveling thread by thread with each passing moment. He, too, played his role of a respectable noble magnificently, only the slight sharpening of his gaze and an almost imperceptible sly curling of his lips betraying his rapidly waning restraint.

You offered him your most innocent smile. "Please excuse us, Lord Moriarty." Your words were the sweetest nectar, a saccharine phrase dipped in venom. Another one of your baits successfully eaten, another one of your hooks digging into flesh. You suppressed your giggle as you gave a parting bow and pivoted to twine through the dense crowd with Lord Brownlow, embracing him and slotting yourself into a waltzing position. Oh, tempting William was so deliciously amusing for you to do. To kindle the flame you knew was dancing behind his eyes, to fuel it in its confines and observe him attempting to conceal it and thaw it out. Once again, this game you were playing was dangerous, but you were addicted to the thrill, and you suspected he was as well if the looks he was throwing your way as you glided around the room were any indication.

You felt his eyes on you even as you danced, gossamer and silk flowing around you in mesmerizing patterns. Even as you coyly slipped the slow-acting poison in the Lord's drink while no one was looking. Even as you silently snuck out of the room, vanishing as a phantom, before it took effect. You wouldn't be present when it all happened. A ghost, a shadow, leaving no trace behind. Exactly as William wanted.

Only when you finally arrived at their manor, obscured by the inky darkness of the night, did you let yourself breathe. The still air of your and William's bedroom greeted you pleasantly and you slowly made your way in, haphazardly discarding your numerous jewellery on the desk nearby along the way. Your body was still thrumming with adrenaline from a successful mission, but even more than that it was brimming with something deeper— more desperate. William and Albert would soon return to the estate now that the ball had been interrupted, and the fire that you had been suppressing the entire night threatened to burst out. You had no doubts he felt the same. The fun dance you two have been trapped in the entire night has finally reached its conclusion. The most delightful reward or the most delicious punishment— you wonder which one awaited you upon his arrival.

After what felt like an eternity, slow footsteps sounded in the hallway, unmistakably making their destination known, and the door creaked open almost soundlessly. Your spine tingled as he entered the room, yet you didn't spare him a glance, pretending to busy yourself with removing the accessories from your hair. "I assume everything went according to plan?"

His answering chuckle was accompanied by the rustle of clothes as he discarded his suit jacket. "Everything unfolded beautifully. No one seems to understand how the poison ended up in poor Lord Brownlow's drink." He threw you a conspiratorial grin. "After all, they were all too preoccupied later by the documents a servant managed to uncover in his room, detailing all his atrocities."

You nodded. The tension in the room was palpable, but neither of you wanted to interrupt this tentative stalemate you found yourself in. You were both content to wait the other out— another quick round of your game, this one much shorter and much less torturous. Only when the last accessory left your hair, the mass of it unraveling down your back, did you glance in his direction. "I seem to require some assistance with my dress"

With one hand you threw your hair over your shoulder, body trembling with anticipation as he leisurely made his way to you. It was almost agonizing really, the unhurried way in which his hands traced your arms and shoulder blades down to the corset, leaving in their wake a sea of goosebumps. His lips ghosted over the skin of your neck. "You looked ravishing tonight. I didn't have the opportunity to tell you sooner." His fingers made quick work of the lace and countless hidden clasps and buttons of your corset. "That was quite an ordeal you pulled."

You laughed, a little breathless. "Don't speak as if you didn't enjoy it."

William's lips pulled into a grin, lightly nipping your skin. "You wicked thing, I'm inclined to believe you enjoy tormenting me."

You gasped, leaning back closer to him. "Is it truly torment if I give you exactly what I promised?"

"After the torture you put me through I think I deserve at least some recompense for your actions." As you felt the dress slip from your shoulders, silky fabric sliding down and pooling around your feet, his lips caressed the skin of your shoulder. "And I must say the reward for my patience will be worthwhile indeed."

Delightful reward it was for tonight it seemed.

#moriarty the patriot #mtp william #mtp x reader #william james moriarty #william moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #william moriarty #yuumori #ynm #william james moriarty x reader #mtp

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babyjakes · 1 year

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dreamy undoing.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | april '23 ddlg-themed blurb night

summary | when you need it most, ransom knows exactly how to clear out your pretty little head.

pairing | daddy!ransom drysdale x little!reader

warnings | ddlg. soft sweet doting daddy!ransom. toys: warming cream, clit pump, vibe, butt plug. fingering. soo much praise, a little dumbification, lots of "shhhhh"s which are my favorite hehe <3. reader cries a little but only due to pleasure. reader is tied up. multiple orgasms, squirting.

word count | 1,517

requested by 🫧 anon | Life has been so stressy lately and I just know that Daddy Ari or Daddy Andy (or any Daddy you feel like writing!) would put together the perfect plan to wipe all the stressy thoughts from their little one’s brain. Daddy would make sure she feels all safe and little first, and then maybe tie her up to show her some new toys he got for her as he tells her that he’s going to use them to make all her stress go away. By the end, all she can do is come and squirt over and over and over again as daddy makes her make a big big mess.

an | ohh bestie i'm so glad you sent in a toy request, i have been craving a good toy fic and this was perfectly timed for blurb night!! hope it's alright with you that i chose ransom, i just love him and miss him and always think of him first when it comes to toys hehe <3 also?? this was supposed to be just a quick lil blurb but the adhd medication got me completely carried away..... hope you enjoy >:-)

"There you go baby— shhh," Ransom's voice is the softest, sweetest thing you've ever heard as his gentle fingers spread the yummy-scented cream all over your poor little button. Your legs twitch against the ropes holding you open and spread wide for your daddy. Though you're all tied up in quite a punishing position, this is not a disciplinary session. Instead, the restraints are simply there for your safety, for your comfort. Ransom knows this is exactly what you need after such a grueling week of school and work; all he wants to do is let his pretty baby's mind melt away to nothing as he rewards her endlessly for all the hard work she's been doing.

"Mmm... Daddy," you mumble. Ransom hums along with you as he rolls your tiny knot of nerves between his fingers, the effects of the special cream not taking long at all to be felt. "Th-thank you Daddy, feels so nice, feels—"

"Shhh— you're welcome, baby," the dark-haired man leans his head in to press a kiss against your forehead as he works your sensitive clit with his fingers. "You just let Daddy take care of you, hmm? Don't have to worry about a single thing, sunshine. Need to empty out that pretty little head of yours, s'not good for a tiny baby like you to be doin' so much thinkin'."

From the little pile of toys he has sitting next to you on the bed, he grabs your favorite pump next. It's a simple device with a round plastic cup for your clit, connected to a small bulb that allows your daddy to work the suction manually. As Ransom uses his fingers to spread you out gently, fitting the toy into its place, your toes curl in excitement. "Need to get your sweet little button all puffy and ready for Daddy to play with, right baby?" he smiles as he sucks your poor clit up with a squeeze, earning an eager nod from you as he wiggles the pump carefully, making sure the seal is air-tight.

"Bet that feels nice— huh, princess?" he croons knowingly as he grabs the next toy: your pretty pink plug, custom-made with genuine Swarovski crystals embedded in the base. "Don't worry, angel. Gonna get it nice and slick for you, make sure nothing hurts for my pretty little girl." Eyeing your dripping folds, he hums in approval. "Such a good girl, getting so messy for me already."

Your mind floats safely through your tiny headspace as Ransom preps the plug with plenty of lubricant, earning a quiet whimper from you as he begins rubbing the blunted tip up against your puckered hole. "Easy baby, shhh," he soothes you once more, bringing one hand up to tap against the hard plastic encasing your clit as the other begins working the plug into you. He releases the pump before squeezing it again and again at a quick, teasing pace, your poor puffy button getting sucked up over and over by the tool.

Your breaths deepen, heart thumping faster and faster as your clit pulsates in pleasure, the sensation of the plug stretching you out in your most sensitive of places bringing you closer and closer to the edge in little time at all. Attentive as always, Ransom senses your growing arousal with ease. "Good girl, that's my sweet little y/n. That feel nice, baby? You like it when Daddy plays with your clit and plugs up your pretty little bottom? Poor little girl— so tight, aren't you?" he mocks pity, the heat in your tummy growing as he slides the plug in and out of your burning hole, letting it stretch you out as far as it can without quite giving you the satisfaction of inserting it fully to sit nicely in its intended place.

"P-please Daddy," you pout, bottom lip trembling as he toys with your ass, letting out a gasp as he sucks your needy button up fully again before plunging two thick fingers into your neglected cunt. "O-oh Daddy... thank you Daddy, I— please, please Daddy..." Ransom grins at the sound of your increasing desperation. The first orgasm is always his favorite; he loves dragging it out, watching as it creeps up slowly, then before either of you know it, all at once.

"There you go, babygirl. Just needed this pretty little pussy filled up, huh?" he sings, the pads of his fingers curling up against your tender ceiling as you grit your teeth, tears building in your eyes as you pass the point of no return.

"Please Daddy, I-I'm gonna— please," you heave.

"Go ahead, baby," Ransom murmurs, giving you a knowing nod as he works his hands faster, bringing you right to orgasm at his simple command, "cum for me. Theere," he hums, a satisfied look washing over his face as he witnesses you coming completely undone before him.

Clenching down against the plug and your daddy's fingers, you completely let go, gushing steadily against his ministrations. Your climax is long, steady, and intense, pathetic whimpers sputtering out of you once you finally begin to drift back down to earth. Ransom carries you through it with care, working your most sensitive places as long as he can to give you as pleasurable of an orgasm as possible. Only when you're finally winding down does he slow, bringing his drenched fingers up to his lips to taste your sweet juices.

"So good for me, angel," his voice is low, tender as he finally pushes the plug in fully, watching as it nestles itself perfectly into place against your trembling rosebud. Free hand coming up to rub your tummy gently, he coos as it still spasms lightly from your euphoric high. "So proud of you, sweetheart. Did so well for Daddy, that feel good?"

"Mhmm," you hum, gazing at him through half-closed lids as you soak in the dreamy waves of pleasure still coursing through your veins. "So good, thank you Daddy," you mewl sweetly.

"You're so welcome, little one. Now let's see here," he muses, bringing his attention back up to your clit as it sits swollen in its clear cage. "Oh my," he breathes as he lets it out of the pump with a pop, the magic workings of the device and the cream visible as the little bundle of nerves now sits completely exposed and hardened, just begging to be loved on. "So puffy, baby. Look at you," he enthuses, placing a hand behind your head to bring it forward, forcing you to look at your poor, abused sex.

"S-so puffy," you agree, eyes widening as he reaches for the bottle of lube, gently dripping some down against the knot of flesh. The sensation of the cool liquid hitting your most sensitive spot brings tears to your eyes once more.

"Think I've bullied your poor little button enough, huh?" he frowns as he grabs a small, cordless wand from beside you— another favorite. "Think it deserves some relief. What do you say, princess?"

"Y-yes Daddy, please Daddy," you drool as you rest your head back against the pillows once more, the sound of the wand switching on already overwhelming you with anticipation.

Pressing three fingers into your messy heat this time, Ransom gives no warning before bringing the head of the wand down to begin working over your clit. You jolt at the intensity, earning a light chuckle from the dark-haired man as he begins pumping his digits in and out of you once more, singing, "There, that's what you needed, isn't it? Just needed Daddy to tie you down and let you cum? How long d'you think you'll last this time, sweetheart?" he wonders aloud.

But you're already teetering towards the edge again, the wand being swirled over your throbbing clit in slick, steady circles enough to make your mind go completely numb. And that's all Ransom wants; that's all he's wanted from the beginning: to reduce you down to nothing but whimpers and moans, a drippy, darling mess at the mercy of his skilled hands. "Please... please..." Your vocabulary is shrinking by the second as his fingers speed up against your burning walls.

"You don't have to beg, baby. You can cum, can cum as many times as you need. Daddy's gonna take care of you, sunshine," he promises as you reach your second high, tears and spit dribbling down your chin as you squirt out against your daddy's hands once more. He praises you softly and sweetly, letting you ride out your orgasm for as long as you can. Your juices crackle against the hum of the vibrator as you squeeze your eyes shut, heart pounding in your throat as you wait seconds, minutes, what feels like forever for the ripples of pleasure to finally subside.

"Hmmph... Daddy..." your own voice sounds miles away from you as you stay in your daze, head entirely somewhere else as you feel the wand being run up and down your soaked slit.

"Daddy's here, angel. Doin' so good for me— let's see if you can give me another one, hm?"

quietly tagging @onsunnyside in dis bc. dis is puff puff behavior fr.

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mr2swap · 11 months

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The incident: This man is my son

- Nate What the hell are you doing? -From falling my Briefcase to the ground while The funny creature that was in my new armchair began to bark without moving from its comfortable place in the muscular arms of my little son Nate, the long and smelly feet of my son stank the entire room with the musky odor of the sweat from his feet.

- Isn't it great dad? her name is Zoey, Mom and I rescued her on the way home, and don't worry about taking her for a walk I'm going to start jogging in the mornings before I go to school, and I'll pick up everything I do in the garden and I'm going to…- I made a hand gesture for her to stop and immediately there was silence, with the same hand I rubbed my hundred to try to alleviate the migraine that was beginning to attack me -Just... it's fine just don't put her on the sofa and clean what she does- I continued on my way towards the kitchen while Nate smiled at me with those lips hidden in a beard recently shaved by my wife Naina, in a second Nate wrapped his long arms around the dog and lowered her to the ground.

-And don't put your feet up on the table! - I yelled before entering the kitchen, once again Zoey the new member of the family barked at me and stayed while she and my huge and noisy son stayed in the living room, as soon as I entered the kitchen I almost tripped over one of my son's toys, put away the little red tricycle with a soft kick that my son usually plays with after coming home from the gym, maybe I should buy him a bike before he breaks it with his new weight of 265 pounds and his height of 6.5 feet tall but I should teach him how to drive it first just like I taught him how to shave.

The government psychologist assured me that it was only a matter of time before me to get used to my new son and his new body, but for me, it is still embarrassing to have to explain to the neighbors that the manly, muscular, shirtless white man who is playing basketball in our front yard is actually my little son Nate.

I couldn't do anything but get used to having another "man" at home, the government is trying to reverse the random exchanges but the terrorists altered the gas so that the effects would be indefinite, maybe forever, I went to the stove to prepare a chamomile tea, while I waited for the sound of the kettle to alert me, I tried to remember my life before that stupid accident in the subway.

Before Nate was the huge 6.5 feet tall hairy gorilla sitting in my living room he was an ordinary kid coming home to his grandfather from elementary school, the same way thousands of people inhaled the gas that a group of terrorists had stolen from a Swap Corp truck and when they woke up they found themselves trapped in the body of some stranger next to them!

The incident destroyed many lives and separated many families But Nate doesn't seem upset with his new body I don't think I've ever seen him smile so much now that he's a 33-year-old man, He doesn't have to go to school so while I and his mom are working he spends his mornings at the gym or playing video games but he still visits his old friends from elementary school to beat them at basketball and tell them all about his new life as a white man.

Of course, my father was also affected by the body-swapping gas, and right now he is spending his retirement money on his vacation in South Korea Before he left he said something about connecting with his new culture and his new age.

He was really lucky to end up in the body of “Yoon” a 25-year-old Korean man who was just at the station to take a couple of photos for his Instagram, at first Grandpa was puzzled by his adorable face and body. of a Greek god but now from all the pictures on the beach and in clubs on the other side of the world, it seems that he is having fun with his second chance. I can't say the same for the real Yoon, The term in my father's fat and old African-American body, and is living in a government asylum for people affected by the incident that's another story...

Hey folks! if you like bodyswap stories take a look at my patreon, I have a lot of more stories, and you can help me keep creating more stories!

#body swap #male body swap #bodyswap #body switch #male transformation

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beingsuneone · 4 months

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Part Two!!

Memories & Delusions PART TWO!!

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

SYNOPSIS: You know Jason is alive know, you aren’t sure how just yet and you aren’t how exactly you’re going to keep his cover and also still see him regularly. There’s still too many complications to deal with.

FANDOM: DC

PAIRING(S): Jason Todd x fem!reader

RATING: G

MENTIONED: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Joker, Ra’s Al Ghul

GENRE/AU: Uhhh a little bit of fluff I guess. It’s pretty subtle on the romance, mostly plot following I guess. Nothing overly angsty. Mentions of being committed to Arkham (just a joking conversation) and Jason is trying it get over the Lazarus pit.

WORD COUNT: 4.4K

WARNINGS: swearing, slightly graphic descriptions of Jason’s murder from him. Not proof read

A/N: jjjajsjakkskskshdhshjsjsis brain

DEDICATIONS: my dumb hyperfixating brain for coming up with this concept at least three years ago. And putting it into words only recently.

CREDITS:

“Why are you being so dodgy lately?” Dick asks skeptically, eyeing you up.

You shrug, trying to play it cool. Jason doesn’t want them to know yet so they won’t. “What do you mean?”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Last week you were losing your mind and now you’re just… fine.”

You take a deep breath in and sigh. “I guess I realized that I was being delusional. I was just missing Jason.” Dick is about to say something else but you wave him off. “I have to go to meet my friend, so I’m heading out.”

Your ‘friend’ was Jason.

You stop to look at yourself in the mirror by the door, toying with your hair and smoothing out wrinkles on your clothes.

Somewhere behind you, Dick mutters: “See, Bruce, she’s being Dodgy.” And Bruce hums in agreement.

You’re apparently not as convincing as you’d like to be.

…..

“How do you plan on breaking the new to Bruce?” You ask, fidgeting with your fingers while he goes through some stuff on his computer. He shrugs in response. You continue. “Or is it that you don’t want to tell him at all?”

Jason's eye twitches subtly, something that you’re surprised you catch. He shakes his head. “I don’t know, Y/n.” He pauses, chuckling dryly. “It’s not like he’d care much to know.”

You recoil. Is that really how Jason thinks Bruce feels about him?

All you can recall is Bruce kneeling in front of his grave, sobbing like you’d never seen an adult sob; or the way he would walk into Jason’s room and stand in the doorway with a forlorn look mocking his features.

You remember the way he’d stare for several minutes before sighing deeply and walking away; he’d usually proceed to lock himself in the batcave and would snap when anyone disturbed him.

“Jason…” you say reluctantly. “You don’t think that Bruce would care if you were alive?” Jason remains silent, so you continue, missing the way his fists clench. “Bruce was… heartbroken for months after your death— we all were.”

Jason stands abruptly. “And yet, none of you were willing to kill the man who brutally murdered me!” He snaps, his voice raised. You flinch a little but try to retain composure; bite your tongue when you have the urge to remind him about your goals when he first died. He continues with a strange expression on his face. “Do you know what it was like to feel a crowbar splitting my skull open while I was still alive?”

The thought makes you sick. Makes you so utterly devastated for what he’s been through. “No, Jason, I—”

He cuts you off by holding his hand up. “If Bruce was ever going to kill someone, it should’ve been Joker; and if he’d really loved me so much it should have been for me.” His tone is much calmer but there is still a chilling effect in his voice that makes your spine straighten.

The look behind his eyes is flurried with an internal battle you can almost see. “Jason, I shouldn’t have—”

“Just go.” He says, finally sitting back. He doesn’t bother looking up at you.

“What?” You stammer, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Just get out, Y/n.” He snaps once more and that’s all it takes for you to turn on your heels and walk out the door.

…..

You’d been moody and upset for the past three days— you knew you were. You were upset at Jason, upset that he had so much sway or your emotion, and even upset at yourself for bringing something up that obviously triggered him in some way.

Jason was complexities locked inside other complexities, and you were beginning to learn that; what was once simple and easy with him, was now difficult and anxiety-inducing:

You weren’t sure where you laid in his eyes now.

Were you still the same teenage girl in his mind, or, were you the grown version of the girl he liked that had betrayed him.

Did he see you the same way he saw Bruce and Dick? Or even Tim? Was he just holding on the bond you used to have despite his bitter feelings for you now?

And, what made him this way? You know he must have gone through a devastating trauma, but, how far did that really go?

What were the details that Bruce never told you, and just how gruesome were they for him to lock the knowledge away and not let anyone else know the details.

He told everyone that Jason had died, and he had died by the Joker’s hands; when you or Dick had pressed for more information, Bruce had simply told you it was ‘Brutal’ and ‘Something you should never have to know’

But Jason's little outburst must’ve only told the smallest of details about his horrible, horrible death. If that was just the beginning, you couldn’t even imagine the depths of Joker’s cruelty.

You’re brain won’t stop trying though, even as you sit at the kitchen’s bar with a soggy bowl of cereal. You’ve been sitting there for an hour, pushing the stuff around in the bowl but you haven’t actually taken a bite.

“I think we need to send you to Arkham.” Tim says from the other side of the island, breaking you from your Jason-induced trance. You know he’s joking, but you’re pretty Bruce is genuinely considering committing you for your behavior these past few weeks.

You’re more hot and cold than faulty thermostat. Hysterical, and then Happy, and then violently depressed and introspective.

“I do not need to be locked up with a bunch of criminals, Tim. Rehabilitation is clearly not actually happening at Arkham.” You say back, appreciating his giving you something to banter about.

He’s the only one that didn’t know Jason, and that makes him refreshing to be around.

“They aren’t stupid, Y/n.” Tim says, completely unrelated to your response. “Bruce knows you’re still losing it over Jason, you can act fine all you want but Red Hood clearly got into your head.”

You shrug. “If anyone knew him as intimately as I do— uh, did, they’d lose their mind too.” Your eyes drop to the bowl in front of you and scrunch your nose in disgust. You push it away from yourself.

Gross.

Tim shrugs back, because, what else can he really respond with? “I didn’t know him at all.” He pauses, looking out the kitchen's open door. “Wouldn't Bruce have known him as well as you did?”

You shake your head. “No, Tim, me and Jason were… different, I guess. I had a crush on him when we were teens.” You shift in your seat and instinctively reach for the pendant around your neck. “And Dick was doing his whole Titans thing at the time, so they weren’t as close.”

Your sadness subsides and that familiar warmth runs through you as you imagine yourself and Jason laying on the roof, reading your favorite scenes from the book and enjoying the cool summer air.

In the winter, you would go out with a few blankets and huddle extra close; eventually, when your hands would get to cold to read, it would end in the two of you huddling close for warmth (something that Jason had always produced a lot of) and staying there until Bruce would start calling for you.

Your lips twist into a soft smile.

Tim stares at you. “You need help.”

“Speak for yourself, Mr. Force Batman To Have Another Robin.”

….

A tapping at your bedroom window stirs you from the near-sleep state you had been in; your heart pounds as you shoot up and look towards the window. Your heart slows only a few beats per minute when you see a familiar red helmet through the window.

You stand up and unlock your window, letting Jason climb through one side of the double doors.

He sighs through his helmet as he goes to remove it; you hear the familiar series of click and whirs and then he places the helmet on a chair in your room.

“Nice Pajamas.” He says, in a playful sort of way. There’s a healthy dose of something else though, that you can’t quite place.

You look down at yourself. You’re wearing a very thin tank top and some comfy PJ shorts. Not exactly appropriate in front of other people.

“Uh, thanks?” You say as you grab a hoodie from beside your bed and throw it on.

Once you’ve covered up a bit more, you turn back to Jason. “Why are you here?”

He stares at you, his eyes traveling your body for a few moments before they meet yours. “I just wanted to apologize. For the other day.” He takes a step closer.

You cross your arms. “I want to know why.”

Jason cringes. “I snapped yesterday because I’m just not right in the head yet. I still lose control and say things I shouldn’t. My perception of things is so fucked up sometimes I can’t tell what’s real.”

You nod slowly. “But why, Jason? How are you alive, why is your brain messed up?”

He sighs deeply. “I did die.” He says simply, like that really explains anything. You wait for him continue. “I died, and Ra’s Al Ghul threw me in the Lazarus Pit because he owed a favour to Bruce.” The words are spoken so plainly but you understand the pain behind them. “I’m only alive because of a favour.” His tone is so downtrodden, devastated.

You’ve heard about the Lazarus Pit, how it could drive someone to madness— you guess that must’ve happened with Jason.

It was the theorized reason for Gotham’s problem, after all; or rather, theorized by Barbara Gorden.

You supposed that made sense. “My God, Jason, you’ve been through so much.”

Your heart aches for him, for all the things you should have prevented.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.”

“It’s okay.”

…..

The morning light shines brightly through your window, usually your curtains are drawn but there are quite a few unusual things about this morning.

First and most importantly, you have a suited up Jason, sleeping at your side; his arm is wrapped protectively around you.

He looks so beautiful when he’s sleeping; you’re not sure if he ever has restless sleep, but he seems so peaceful and at ease— relaxed, even. It’s nice to see his face unplagued by any of his troubles.

However, according to your clock, it’s almost the time when Alfred would come to wake you for breakfast, meaning Jason had to leave— and fast.

“Jason.” You say his name softly, nudging him awake. He stirs, and his eyes shoot open.

He looks panicked for a moment before your face processes in his mind, then he visibly calms down.

“I fell asleep.” He states, disentangling from you and laying into his back.

You hum, still looking at him. “Yes, you did.” The air is thick with some sort of easy tension, a fading smile, a far-off laugh— a general sense of mundanity that you want to keep forever. “But you have to leave now, if you don’t want anyone else to know your identity.”

“Right.” Jason gets up from the bed and stretches slowly, causing you to do the same.

He turns to grab his helmet— or rather, you see him stop, stare at it for a moment, and then spin back around.

Before you can process it, he’s caging you on your bed. Your eyes close as he closes the gap between the two of you, a swift movement that leaves you barely anytime to think.

When he pulls back, off the bed, and flashes you an easy smile, you think you very well might swoon like you were right out of a 60s television show.

Jason slips his helmet back on and closes it before unlatching the window and stepping out. “Bye, Y/n.”

“Bye.” You stare at the spot where he was standing for a while longer before laying back down in your bed.

…..

“Hey.” You say nonchalantly, coming up behind Bruce.

He’s working on the Batcomputer right now. “Hello.”

“What’cha Doing?” You scan the contents of the screen, and it just looks like feed from the Manor’s many cameras. You aren’t too worried about Jason being seen on them, because he always hacks the cameras and scrubs himself from the data.

“I’m just doing the weekly camera check, Y/n.” Bruce looks back at you momentarily, and then returns to the feeds.

You screw around behind him for a while before you hear a small hum. You look up at the camera, trying to see what has caught Bruce’s attention. The timestamp says it’s from a few nights ago.

You watch as he replays a specific moment.

He replays it a few more times before you finally see it. A familiar flash of red, and then a motorcycle driving away from the manor.

Worse, the flash of red comes from right outside your window.

Bruce enhances the footage and zooms in on what you’re sure is Jason.

“Red Hood was at the Manor three days ago.” He states, looking back at you. “He appears to be leaving your bedroom, did you know about this?”

You pause for a second but shake your head. “No, of course not, I was sleeping.” You pretend to shudder. “That’s creepy to think that he was in there while I was sleeping.”

Bruce eyes you suspiciously but doesn’t protest or question any further. “We’ll have to heighten security in your room. Red Hood obviously chose it for a reason.”

You freeze. “That’s not necessary, Bruce, he didn’t screw with anything, obviously.”

“Even if he isn’t intending to hurt any of us, Y/n, there are several very bad things that could happen as a result of his being able to get into our house. Not to mention, I’ve noticed several discrepancies in our camera feeds over the past month or so.” He gestures to another frame, showing what looks like normal footage, but it’s the same five minutes replaying, according to the timestamps. “If you watch carefully, every minute, on the dot, a bug flies in front of the camera. It’s the same bug and the same flight pattern. If that’s Red Hood’s patch job, he’s not very good at this.”

Your lips purse, and you chew on the inside of your cheek. “That is weird.” You can’t really say anything else without making yourself look suspicious. You’ll have to let Jason know before he thinks about coming around here again.

He goes back to the previous footage, of Jason at your door, and enhances it even more— your window is clear now, and the floor behind it. Bruce rewinds it to the moment that Jason reaches the window. He presses play again, and lets the video play slowly, analyzing Jason’s every movement.

You cringe when you see Jason knock on the window a few times, and you’re terrified for Bruce to see what you know is coming next.

“Bruce!” You blurt, just before you’re about to come into view. “Tim just texted me and said he needed you to come upstairs right now.”

Bruce turns to you, confused. “Did he say what about?”

You shake your head. “No, he just said it was urgent.”

Bruce nods and leaves you alone in the batcave. You have maybe ten minutes until he comes back, knowing that you lied.

You try to fiddle with footage and delete that part that incriminates you, but without Bruce’s password you can’t do that.

Fuck. You don’t know it.

You panic for a minute and then abandon your mission to delete the footage, instead you race upstairs and into your bedroom, throwing together a bag of clothes and other essentials, as well as some sentimental items.

You’re about to sneak out the window when you see the old worn book. You snatch it quickly, along with your phone and car keys.

Bruce’s voice comes from down the hallway, calling your name; it doesn’t matter, you don’t stop until you’re outside and in your car.

You know he’s watching as you speed off, tears welling as you disable the tracking devices in your phones and car. When Bruce finally watches that footage, he’s going to think you betrayed him and you’re going to lose the one place that you’d ever felt at home in.

You’ve never felt so low before.

…..

Tears fall pitifully from your cheeks; you really shouldn’t be this upset.

Jason watches uncomfortably from his chair in his office; you knew he never liked you crying, and he was never great at dealing with it.

All he ever needed to do was be there, though.

“Please stop crying.” He says gently, as he walks over to you. “What happened?”

You shrug, which makes no sense because you know exactly what happened. “I can’t go back to the manor.”

Jason scrunches in confusion and a hint of anger at the conclusions you know he’s jumping to. “What did he do?”

“Bruce didn’t do anything.” Wiping the tears from your eyes, you pull back from him. “He was going over security camera footage and found a camera you forgot to wipe… he hadn’t watched the full thing when I ran out of there but he’s watched it by now, I’m sure.”

“And that matters…why?” Jason obviously doesn’t understand what you’re implying.

You absentmindedly drum your fingers against your wrist. “I very clearly let you in the window in the footage. You didn’t break in, I let you in. Bruce knows that now too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Jason looks around the office, like there’s something that would help on the walls. There isn’t. His eyes settle back into you, but you’re not looking at his face. “You can stay with me.”

He says it so easily, like it’s only natural— you suppose it is. Nothing had ever been more natural than being with him.

You also think you’d probably like that. “Do you live in this building or…?”

He laughs and then shakes his head. “No, I hijacked one of Bruce’s warehouses a long time ago and have been living there. We can go now, I’m done for today anyway.”

You step out into the hallway and he takes your hand in his; you think that he feels protective around his lackeys, because he doesn’t really like them. He would rather they all fell off the face of the earth, but he knows that won’t happen so he’d rather control where their product is being pushed.

Or that’s what he told you, anyways,

You go down a different set of corridors than you’re used to, and it leads to a garage.

The unsettlingly beautiful woman is standing at the door, she says nothing when Jason pushes the door open and leads you through.

It’s not her job to ask questions, you suppose.

“Do you want to take your car? You can follow me in mine so you know where we’re going?” He suggests, raising his eyebrows at you. “Or I can drive it over for you later and we can just use my car for now.”

“I don’t really feel like driving right now.”

He nods. “Okay.”

…..

“When you said warehouse, I was not expecting this.” You gape, looking around at his ‘apartment.’ “It looks more like a pent-house.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, well, that's kind of what it is.” Jason runs his finger along the surface of his counter. “I believe it was catalogued as a safe house and a warehouse.”

You shrug. “You wiped it from the system, so I wouldn’t know.”

There’s a sort of awkward reluctance dancing around the two of you, like you aren’t sure what to do with yourselves now that it’s just the two of you alone. You haven’t been truly alone with him in such a long time.

“I guess there’s not a whole lot to do here.” He starts again, looking around. “I’m not here much. I usually just end up passing out on the couch in my office.”

You laugh dryly and look around; the whole apartment looks clean and modernist— you personally can’t stand this type of decorating but you don’t think Jason cared much to change how the place had looked when he found it.

There’s a TV, which you’re pretty sure works but it’s gone unused. There is a short hallway with three doors down it right off the living area. It’s mostly open concept besides that small hallway. You lift your gaze upwards, following the tall in-wall bookshelves; you find that there’s a small loft above the two of you and a ladder that leads there.

“What’s up there?” You ask, walking over to the ladder.

Jason gestures up the ladder. “I’ll show you.”

The two do you climb the ladder and you pull yourself onto the loft, feeling a little unsteady.

You notice immediately that the roof looks a little strange just above the platform.

Jason clears his throat and walks over to one of the walls. He hovers in front of a small silver panel. “You know, there’s a reason I chose this one.” He presses a button on the panel while he looks over at you.

A few creaks sound and then some loud mechanical noises sound before the roof panels recede to reveal the setting sun. The sunset is so beautifully visible from the sunroof.

“Jason.” You breath, dumbfounded.

He picks a book off of the floor of the loft. “I used to try to recreate our moments on the roof, but it just wasn’t the same without you.” He flips the book a few times in hands. “And this wasn’t quite right either.”

“I couldn’t handle the rooftop without you.” You whisper, not sure if he even hears you; you try to speak a little louder. “The first time you showed up at the house was the first time I had done it in years.”

“Huh.” Jason responds, sounding nonchalant but you know it means something to him.

“Wait here.” You rush back down the ladder and grab your book, and then head back up. Jason stares at it for a while. You hold it up, and pass it to him. “For Old Times Sake?”

…..

You had sat there with him for hours that day, you watched as the day melted into night and felt as you slowly fell asleep. You and Jason were tangled together, cuddled so close it was like you had never really been apart in the first place.

At some point, you’re drifting in and out of consciousness. Your hands twitch gently and you adjust yourself a bit but you don’t open your eyes.

You’re pretty sureJason still thinks you're asleep because he presses a kiss to the top of your head and then quietly speaks. “I want to do this with you for the rest of our lives.” He pauses and sighs a loaded sigh. “Not just for Old Times Sake.”

You decide it’s probably better to just try to fall back asleep, despite the way your stomach churns. You wanted to respond, and tell him that you wanted to fall asleep like this every night.

Tell him that you wanted to spend every day with him too.

…..

“I just want to know where she is, Red Hood.” Bruce’s voice comes through a little speaker in Jason’s office— it’s a line that Jason had hacked into and clearly Bruce knew that.

Jason scowls and you can’t help but think about Bruce when he does.

When nobody responds to him, Bruce continues. “I want to talk to her.”

You gnaw your lips, wanting to pick it up and say you’ll talk to him but dreading confirming his suspicions.

Jason slips his helmet on and picks up the microphone. He presses the button and says, cooly, “Where would you want me to bring her, Batman?”

You can hear Bruce’s sigh of relief. “The abandoned warehouse near Arkham. You know which one I mean.”

Jason hums. “The one that Joker blew up last month.”

Bruce confirms and then Jason looks at me. “Anything you want to say?”

You shake your head, and Jason picks up the mic again. “Give us a time and we’ll be there.”

And just like that, you were going to see Bruce again.

Great.

…..

“I just don’t understand, Y/n.” Bruce says immediately when he lays eyes on you, despite the fact that he wraps you in a tight hug. “Why would you work with him?”

You pull back and look back to Jason, who’s all suited up, of course. “I—” you have no idea what to say in your defense. “I wasn’t working with him, Bruce.”

Bruce gives you a sort of ‘disappointed dad’ look. “I saw the footage, I know that you let him into the manor.”

“Well, yes, but—”

“So you were working with him.”

“No! It’s not like that!”

You’re starting to get irritated because you know Bruce has absolutely no reason to believe you.

“First, you lied about Tim needing me, and then you tried to delete the footage and then I saw you wildly speeding away from the manor. Do you understand how suspicious that looks? Obviously, you are working with him, Y/n. You don’t have to lie.” Bruce sounds sure of himself. It makes you want to tear your hair out.

“Fine. I was working with him, since you’re so sure.”

Bruce looks between you and Jason, and you can see realization dawn on his face. “Unless… don’t tell me you fell for him just because he reminds you of— Y/n, please tell me I'm wrong.”

Jason steps in this time. “Don’t worry, you’re wrong. Just not in the way you think you are.” Your head snaps back to look at him as clicks his helmet open and pulls it off.

This was the moment. He was finally showing Bruce.

You look frantically between the two of them, trying to decipher the moment.

Bruce stands frozen for a good long while, just staring at Jason’s face before he suddenly locks his arms around Jason's shoulder/neck and hugs him tighter than you’d ever seen Bruce hug anybody.

Jason looks thoroughly disturbed and taken aback. This wasn’t the reaction he was expecting, and honestly, it wasn’t what you were expecting either.

“I didn’t fall for him because he reminds me of Jason.” You say quietly. “I fell for him because he is Jason.”

Bruce pulls back and nods slowly before turning back to Jason. “I’m so sorry, Jason.”

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

#dc #dc x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #batfam #batfam x reader #batfam x you #batfam x y/n #red hood #redhood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #redhood x reader

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thetfer · 14 days

Text

You, anon-sect, were going about your usual routine of going to the gym and hanging out with friends. After several hours in the hot sunshine, you decided to head home. Taking a seat on the train home, you heard the pleading cries of the transformed victims trapped on your feet. You had seriously abused them today, but they were just your socks and shoes, so you didn't care. Your feet were sweating like crazy, forcing both socks and shoes to absorb it all. As you wiggled your toes within them, you could tell the shoes didn't have long left before they were completely trashed.

Looking around the train car, you noticed a perfect target to TF into new ones just a few feet away from you. He was a muscular looking stud with a handsome face that you were dying to step on as an insole. The stud was also completely distracted by his phone, making it even easier to TF him without him even realizing that he's screwed. This made your cock very hard.

Sliding yourself up the row towards him, you subtly eyed him up, imagining how comfortable he was gonna be on your feet. You pulled out the TF device and set the program to “SHOES/PERMANENT”. After making sure no one was watching, you pulled the trigger on it and fired the device at the guy. There was a bright flash of light, and as it died down, Anon-sect, you expected to see your new shoes sitting on the seat in front of you, but somehow…someway, the muscular guy was still there, completely untouched by the transformation beam. This was more than confusing for you, you had done this so many times in the past. At this point, you had probably transformed hundreds of innocent lives, irreversibly reshaped into any object you deemed them to be. No one had ever resisted the effects of your device up till this point, it was outright impossible for this guy to still be human.

You pondered what might've gone wrong, looking over the device best you can without drawing too much attention. You were angry, no, Furious that he had survived your shot, so when he started chatting with you, it took everything in you to not blow up at him.

“Hey, did your little toy break? Aww, that sucks man…”, the guy across from you spoke up, sounding exactly like the dumb ‘Jock Bro’ he appeared to be. There was a hint of sympathy in his voice, which you had to hold your breath at to keep from laughing. You had just tried to turn him into your permanent footwear, and he was saddened by your perceived “broken toy”? It made you wonder, if you told him what you had planned on doing to him, would he apologize for failing to become your shoes? Man, this guy is such an easy target, it almost felt cruel…

“No, it's not broken. It's also not a toy, but if I told you what it really was, I'd have to, in a literal sense, put a foot in your mouth”, you snapped back at him, smirking slightly at your own sly word play and continued trying to suss out the fault in the device.

The guy had a dumbfounded look on his face, but then he seemed to catch on to something, “Uh…ohhh, like some kind of secret project? Aw, that's pretty cool man! I've actually got my own secret project goin’, wanna see!?”,

This guy was starting to annoy you, but not to seem suspicious, you looked up at him, faining curiously.

The guy looked overjoyed to see you interested in his so called “secret project”. He excitedly turned his phone towards you and showed you the image that was on the screen. “I snapped a pic of these awesome shoes that I want, am just waitin’ on them realizing they're supposed to be there”. Despite his obvious luke-warm IQ, it was hard not to be indeered to this guy. You were ready to write him off as a dumb meathead that would soon be imprisoned on your feet…until you actually looked at the picture on his phone. It showed a pair of white coloured High-Top sneakers, with red and black accents. You had to agree, they did look pretty awesome…however, the picture depicted the shoes on the floor of the train car, the exact same one you were in…then you realized what kind of phone this guy had…it was a TF phone.

You started to feel extremely lightheaded, your surroundings spinning rapidly around you. You looked down at your own TF device and your mistake was flashing right in your face. “Please Confirm Your Settings” was displayed on its screen. You had forgotten to press confirm, and without doing that, the device would never have fired…which meant that the bright flash of a TF beam didn't come from your device after all, but instead it came from the Muscular Jock Bro's phone!

Looking up at him in horror, you slid off your seat and landed with a thud on the floor right by the guy's nasty, beat-up gym sneakers.

“Yo, what you doin’ on the floor man…? Oh, wait! Are you tryna catch a whiff of ma feets? That's kinda weird Bro, my feet really stink, but, I guess it ain't hurtin’ no one…”, and with a confused, but friendly smile, the guy kicked off his sneakers and pressed his hot, stinky, sweat-soaked socked feet right against your face. “Oh, by the way, ma names Chad! I would ask for your name, but, I don't think shoes deserve names…”, despite retaining his air-headed bubbly himbo tone, the last line he spoke had a sinister edge to it, revealing that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You had become completely paralyzed shortly after landing on the floor, so you could do nothing as the guy shoved his stinking, rancid feet in your face. Was this karma…? Was the universe torturing you like this as a form of revenge on behalf of all your former victims? This was the only explanation that made sense to you. How else could you have forgotten such a simple step like press confirm on your settings, you've done that a million times! All you could do was sniff, Chad's putrid, toxic foot stink no doubt speeding up the transformation process as you felt a strange sensation in your skin.

“Uh…hey Bro!”, the guy called down to you, pretending badly to sound concerned, “you don't look so good, man…it looks like you'returnin’ whit! Are ma feets too stinky for ya!? Aw, am so sorry, Man”, his tone was dripping with sarcasm, and even worse, you could spot a very visible bulge pressing against his sweats…he was enjoying this.

His feet were so rancid, but they were the least of your concerns. With pleading eyes, you looked up at him, begging, praying he would stop this…but the look of pleasure on his face told you that was never going to happen. As he gently stroked the sizable bulge in his pants, you felt your skin get tighter, squeezing out a few tears from your eyes…you didn't want this, you didn't want to be some guy's shoes! This guy was supposed to be your shoes!! As you felt a mix of fear and anger, your transformation seemed to accelerate, causing intense pain and discomfort as your body began to contort and reshape into its new form.

Staring down at you, the guy was now smirking, excited as he watched this happening to you. “Yo!!! Bro!!!! You're ma fuckin’ shoes now!!! Hahaha, pathetic loser!!!“, the guy eagerly watched as your horrific transformation was finalized, leaving you looking exactly like the picture on his phone.

Wasting no time, the guy pulled you onto his feet, your face instantly being squashed beneath his hot smelly foot. “Oh man, you feel so good on me, so comfortable!”, he remarked, pressing his foot down hard against your insole face.

This was Hell…not only were his feet fucking toxic, but the guy himself was a huge mound of muscle, weighing at least 400 pounds. However, your situation quickly changed from bad to worse when he pulled on the other shoe. From your experience with TFing people, you obviously knew the face became one of the insoles, but you never could figure out what formed the other insole…until now.

As Chad pulled on the other shoe, you could feel his sweaty toes sliding along your dick, before his heel settled down on top of your balls…this sensation made you want to cum so hard, but you couldn't, your cock was an insole. This orgasmic pleasure soon intensified as Chad played with the shoe on his foot, as if he knew your penis was now its insole. Pleasure turned to pain as there was no way to release the tension.

“Oh please…please let me cum…oh god it hurts!!! Just let me cum, please god let me cum!!!”, you mentally begged, screamed and cried, but to release came. You were locked in eternal orgasm for the rest of your life!

“Oh f-fuck…”, that was the last thought you had before his full weight crushed down on your privets. You were in agony, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

As for the muscular guy, he couldn't help but admire the quality of his new shoes! They felt high end, and super comfortable. Testing them out with a stroll up and down the train car, he found that the shoes would contract around his feet with each step, almost as if the shoes were giving his feet a massage as he walked. “Man, it was awesome of you to turn into my shoes! Am gonna wear you everyday Bro, especially to the gym! You're ma new favorite pair now!”, he excitedly informed you, mercilessly wiggling his big thick toes on you.

You screamed at the thought of that. Everyday!? There was no way you could mentally survive that! You began to cry and plead, begging to be turned human again, but it never came. You would live out the rest of your existence on his feet, smelling, tasting and feeling every second of it at 10000X the insanity of a normal human.

Chad kept his word and wore you every single day, and to torture you even further, he also never changed his sock either. Eventually, you would begin to rot on his feet, his rancid sweat dissolving your shoe bodies. First to go was your insole cock. Chad's sweat had quickly stained it a deep orange, and once that happened, the integrity of your insole cock rapidly deteriorated with searing, blinding pain. You thought your mind was going to burn up…in fact, you hoped it would…unfortunately it stayed intact, forcing you to feel you cock and balls rot away beneath Chad's foot. Next was your face, you could both smell and taste yourself rotting, but you never died. Chad simply threw you in a closet with the rest of his rotting sneakers, leaving you to your fate in pain and agony as shoes, forever!

This is a post requested by @anon-sect Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

Go check out @anon-sect and enduldge in his amazing TF stories!!

#inanimate transformation #permanent tf #inanimate tf #shoe tf #thank you #jock feet #tf story #tf caption #clothing tf

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