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dollfacefantasy · 8 months

Text

Teddy Bear 🧸

pairing: chris redfield x fem!reader

summary: you cuddle with your boyfriend to stay warm during the night, but being so close to you gets him worked up even in his sleep

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, somnophilia, daddy kink, cockwarming

word count: 2.1k

a/n: i’m cold and tired and this is the result 😔 comments and reblogs are much appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus

You’re fast asleep in the cold darkness of your bedroom. The light of the street lamp outside leaks in through your window, streaming over your bed. You have the plush gray comforter draped over your body and your pale pink throw blanket tangled around your legs.

Though, the main source keeping you warm tonight is your space heater of a boyfriend lying next to you. Chris always ran hot in his sleep. His bicep was currently radiating heat through your head from its position beneath your cheek. He was on his back right now, mostly uncovered since you had the blankets.

You’re sleeping peacefully, soft breaths coming out in little puffs from between your lips. You stir when you feel the mattress shift as your boyfriend rolls over. Suddenly, you’re engulfed by his muscular form. His chest presses against your back, and his arm that’s not acting as your pillow wraps around your waist and snakes under your shirt.

You mumble some sleep-addled nonsense as he pulls you even closer and nuzzles his face in your hair. Your sleepy eyes crack open. With some slow blinks, you’re awake just enough to walk the line between consciousness and sleep. His relaxing warmth kept you trapped in that hazy state, unable to wake up fully.

He holds you like you’re his own little teddy bear. You squirm slightly, trying to adjust yourself as best you can, but it was difficult when his body kept you locked in that comfy position. A sleepy whine leaves your mouth as Chris nestles you deeper against his body. He grumbles softly at the noise but doesn’t wake.

Your presence was seeping into his unconscious mind. The faint sound of your whimpering combined with the pressure of your half-assed wriggling began to infiltrate his innocent dreams and transform them into something more explicit. Suddenly, you were all he could smell, all he could feel, and he wanted more. A craving for you began blooming the pit of his belly as the soft flesh of your ass brushed against his length.

By this point, you had basically acclimated to the snug position and begun falling asleep again. You were out of it enough to the point that you didn’t feel his cock start to grow stiff against your ass.

You had gone still, but it was his turn to move now. His hips gently rut against you in his sleep. He leans against your smaller form to get some more pressure on his dick. He mumbles something against your ear, his hot breath fanning over the side of your head.

“Baby, baby, baby…” he murmurs into your hair.

He continues rolling himself against you, getting harder with each small motion. He breathes deeper as his arousal continues to blossom, inhaling your scent as much as he can. It just makes his dreams more realistic. Makes him feel like he’s really got you folded in half beneath him while balls deep in your pussy.

His rocking movements aren’t enough to rouse you. What does wake you is when he starts messing with your blankets. He was still sleeping, only pushing them away out of a subconscious desire to have more of you. Haphazardly, he shoves the coverings down your legs and leaves your hips exposed to the cold air. He groans deeply once more of you is available to him. He could feel the warmth of your ass against the outline of his cock.

All you had worn to bed was a skimpy pair of panties and one of his shirts. It didn’t give you much insulation or coverage, so the cold air surrounding you was enough to draw you out of sleep and back into that dreamy middle ground.

“Chris…” you whine and squirm. You pointlessly tug on the covers to try and get them back, but they’re all tangled up between your legs.

While your noises come from a place of discomfort, they don’t register that way in your boyfriend’s unconscious mind. Almost as if you’re triggering some sort of prey drive, the delicate whimpering and fidgeting only boosts the primal urge within him.

“Good girl… daddy’s got you,” he mumbles.

Even in your dreamy state, that phrase ignites your desire for him. And to make matters worse, or maybe better in your case, his hand snakes under the faded gray fabric of your shirt and finds its place on one of your tits. At first he gently kneads it, but after only a few squeezes, his hot palm settles on your breast. It was almost like he did it for comfort, just something soft to hold while he pleasured himself with the mere feeling of your curves.

You shift your thighs together, searching for some friction. The increased movement has Chris shifting further on top of you and pushing you into the mattress.

His face rests in the crook of your neck, and you can sense he’s starting to wake up, the sensations growing too intense for him to stay completely unaware. His breaths become more shallow and less rhythmic. His grip on your tit tightens. You really couldn’t move him off now, his larger frame boxing you in.

“Chris,” you whimper again.

“Hm?” you hear his sleepy hum. His hips don’t stop moving.

“You’re crushing me,” you whine.

“‘M sorry, baby bear,” he mutters.

Despite his apology, he makes no move to get off you. It’s ok though. It doesn’t bother you as much as it would have because he called you that. One of your favorite things to hear. Those two words, baby bear. Always just made you feel so docile and content.

“Feel so fucking good,” he grumbles.

He keeps humping your ass. A small wet patch had formed on the front of his boxers from the precum leaking out of the swollen head of his cock. His fingers weakly massage your breast and lightly pinch and pull at your nipple.

“I wanna feel you too,” you say as slick begins collecting between your thighs.

He moans quietly and kisses your neck a bit. “Have I been neglecting my sweet girl? My baby needs some relief too, doesn’t she?” he tiredly coos.

“Mhm,” you whimper.

“Don’t worry, honey. Daddy’s gonna make it better,” he grunts.

He’s reluctant to stop the constant stream of pleasure he gets from rutting against you, but he forces himself to pull away just so he can shove his boxers down. He pumps his cock a few times before tugging your underwear aside and slotting himself between your folds.

He doesn’t push inside of you yet. He just rocks back and forth, enjoying how your arousal coats his shaft. It feels like he’s holding you tighter as he does this, but that could be due to the condition you’re in, drowsy with lust.

Both of you have your eyes closed, softly panting and moaning as you just feel the other. The tip of his cock slides over your clit multiple times, and each time his tummy flutters at the little whine you release.

“You’re so wet, baby. Did I wake you up or do you dream about me too?” he asks. He wasn’t too sleepy to tease. That was for sure.

“You woke me up,” you whine. You, on the other hand, were too tired to come up with any kind of witty response.

“Oh, ‘m sorry, baby. Not my fault though. Can’t help popping a boner cause you’re so fucking perfect. My dick knows it even when I’m passed out,” he says.

“Put inside, ‘m tired,” you whimper, not in the mood to tease while you were so sleepy.

“I know you are, baby bear. You’re being such a good girl for me. Letting daddy use you even when you’re so tired,” he mutters and plants some kisses on your face.

After what seems like an eternity, he finally angles himself to enter your warm hole. His hips move forward. He’s buried inside you before you can even comprehend the tip stretching you out. Your fingers clutch your pillow as you whine. Your legs squirm around a bit, but Chris makes sure you’re positioned how he wants.

“Good baby. I know you love that tight fit,” he whispers, “Are you feeling good? Getting what you need too?”

You nod mindlessly, simply happy to be full.

“Daddy…” you whimper. But this time it’s not a whimper of impatience or command. He hears the shift in cadence. Your little noise comes from a place of pure love. The need for him to hold you close and keep you safe.

“I’m here, baby,” he responds.

He starts rocking his hips, dragging his cock between your slippery walls. He lets out a deep groan and takes in a shaky inhale. Wet noises sound from your lower bodies connecting. His hand not on your breast slides down your body to find your clit and swipe at it through your slick.

“You’re so fucking wet. You love me using you like a toy. Humping you like you’re a little doll,” he murmurs.

“Mhm,” you whine. Your hips jerk as the rough pad of his middle finger swirls on your sensitive bundle of nerves, “Like when daddy’s needy.”

That makes him laugh a little.

“Yeah? Needy just like you, hm?” he teases.

You nod with a sweet smile on your face. He continues thrusting, motions becoming languid as he continues on. You’re both breathy and whimpering at different points, clinging to each other. You weren’t cold at all anymore despite the lack of blankets. Everything felt soft and warm now, comfortable and hazy.

It just felt so nice. You were pretty sure you would’ve fallen asleep again if not for Chris’s finger playing with your clit. The sparks of euphoria become more frequent and make you twitch and writhe in his grasp. You felt your peak approaching and he did too. He pushes down a little harder, in turn, causing your cunt to flutter around his cock as it slides in and out.

“Know you’re gonna sleep good after this, precious,” he murmurs as he tries to stroke even deeper, “You’re always knocked out after I fuck you good.”

“You’re gonna pass out too, probably gonna crush me again,” you whine.

“Of course, I will. Gotta keep my baby bear close. Make sure you stay warm,” he says.

His breathing gets ragged, and now he’s definitely holding you tighter. You know he’s definitely reaching the finish line as his finger spasm on your clit. The sharp movement nearly makes you cum, but you hang on for a little longer.

“Gonna fill you up, baby. Get you nice and full so you can rest like you deserve,” he whispers.

His hips slap against your ass harder as he barrels towards his release. He’s grunting into your neck, holding you tight as your body bounces from the constant movements. He’s panting and you’re whining when, finally, his limbs lock around you and a long moan comes from his throat.

He starts spilling his cum inside you, making good on his word. He’s stuffing you full. His hips keep thrusting, ensuring it gets deep, completely flooding you. You shudder at the feeling and melt in front of him. As he starts to come down, he works his fingers faster, getting you to your own high. Just as he’s settling down, you reach the high. You jerk and twitch, eyes rolling back and hips bucking forward. He whines from the overstimulation of you contracting around his spent cock, but he pleasures you through it till you’re definitely finished.

The two of you lie there, both unwilling to disconnect from each other. You’re sinking into the mattress, already slipping back into the sweet depths of sleep. His hand falls from your breast and rises from your cunt to meet in the middle and hold you close by your waist. Lazy kisses land on your neck.

“Sorry I woke you up, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“You don’t gotta be sorry,” you say.

“Guess not,” he chuckles and pecks you a few more times.

He stays inside you, keeping you wrapped around his now soft cock. It was comforting, soothing in a weird way. Gave you that sense of security you were always craving. You don’t want him to pull out. As if he can read your mind, he whispers in your ear.

“Get some sleep, baby. I’m staying right here. Gonna keep you full while you sleep, make sure this pretty pussy knows who she belongs to.”

You nod and nestle yourself into your pillows to drift off.

“I’ll keep you warm. You won’t even need to hoard all of the blankets now,” he teases before shutting his eyes and starting to drift off himself.

#chris redfield x reader #chris redfield x y/n #chris redfield x you #chris redfield imagine #chris redfield smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil imagines #resident evil x you

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fiber-optic-alligator · 4 months

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I would LOVE to see a TFA!Megatron x human reader of some kind. I love him so much, such an intimidating and scary but fun version of him 🤭 I want it to be in the First Contact AU still, but why not sorta spice things up and make it have soulmates in it? Wouldn't it be cool to have a giant alien warlord from space destroying cities to find their soulmate? 😳🫣 lol if this idea sucks de bout it, but I'm excited to see your works that's transformers g/t related!

- ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST CHAMELANON! PLEASE ENJOY!!! God I love TFA Megs so much. He's so hot AUGH!

Be Careful What You Wish For

Pairing: TFA Megatron x Human Reader (Soulmate Au)

Word Count: 2961

Summary: Soulmates exist, and you have one. Proof exists in the form of soulmarks: a red thread-like tattoo imprinted on a person's arm. Only when one meets their soulmate and touches them will the soulmark disappear. Unfortunately, you have yet meet yours. After many lonely days wishing you would be reunited with your Other Half, a chaotic encounter with the leader of the Decepticons has you realizing one thing. And it is that soulmates persevere across time...and space.

Soulmates are real.

Since you were a young child, this is what you have been told. Soulmates are real, and every person has one. The special red thread that connects two people twines between the left hand’s fingers, up the arm, snaking under the clavicle and ending directly over the heart. Bright like the blood running through your veins, it is your life force, your compass leading you to your Other Half, with your hand outstretched to touch theirs…and only then will the red thread disappear.

You’ve spent hours staring at that red line, tracing the pattern it makes on your flesh. It’s been a constant presence throughout your life…and it has never gone away. No matter who you’ve met, who you have fallen in love with, who you have fallen out of love with, it is all the same. The thread remains, and you continue to carry a lonely heart within you.

“Give it time,” your loved ones tell you. “You’ll find them. It won’t happen in a heartbeat. You need to be patient.”

Yes, you know. Patience, after all, is a virtue. Plenty go about their lives and never even see their thread go away. An existence without your soulmate can be a perfectly happy one. But you want to know who your Other Half is. You want to be one of the lucky few who can be counted as soulfully complete.

Sitting in a coffee shop with a hot chocolate cupped between your hands, you find yourself once again observing your thread. The morning is cold; you can feel the wind trying to bite you through the shop’s large glass window. People bundled in their coats, scarves, and gloves hurry by, heads down and minds focused on whatever tasks they have at hand. Looking out, you observe them with a blank stare, not really observing them at all.

“Anything I can get you right now?” The older woman who owns the shop comes up to you, offering a plate of freshly baked cookies. “Chocolate chip? They’re right out of the oven!”

You offer her a thin smile and shake your head no. She understands; she’s seen you forlornly watching couples pass by. Sighing, she sets down the plate. “You know,” she says. “I didn’t meet my soulmate until I was in my early 40’s.”

You raise an eyebrow. She sees your surprise and chuckles. “I know, right? A little late to be meeting my Other Half. But hey, it happened. And now look at me! I’m living a good life, running a successful business, and I got to see my thread go away. Those are all things I never thought I’d get to experience. All I had to do was wait a little!”

You cringe. Yes, waiting. It seems all you’ve been doing is waiting, waiting, waiting, all for a soulmate who might never come. You and your damn waiting.

She notices your mood go sour and sighs again. “Listen, all I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t lose hope. You’ll meet your soulmate. I know you’ve probably heard this before, but…you need to give the world time to sort things into order. That’s all you really can do when you're dealing with the threads of fate.”

You mumble a quiet “Thank you” and try to look appreciative, when you feel anything such. She says no more, but leaves you a cookie before heading off to tend to the other customers. You watch her go, then lift up your left hand. Your thread is vibrantly bright, showing no signs of fading any time soon.

Yeah, you think sadly while you bite into the cookie. No hope lost whatsoever.

You are walking out of the shop when it happens. The door’s little chimes clink together as you swing it open and bid the owner farewell. And then, a pain unlike any other hits you with the force of a freight train. It tackles you and makes you stagger, knees buckling and bringing you to the ground in a matter of seconds. Your heart starts slamming against your ribcage so hard you think a bone might crack. Pushing your hand against your chest, you pant and watch your vision swim as you attempt to get to your feet, yet fail and fall down once more.

Multiple people help you up, each one asking if you are alright. You hold out a shaking hand as if to assure them, but no sound comes out of your mouth when you try to speak.

Someone says, “Call an ambulance!” You want to tell them you are fine; unfortunately, you can’t seem to form any coherent words. All that rises up from your throat is a thin, wispy whimper.

The chaos continues when out of nowhere, an explosion erupts further down the street. People scream and scramble back. The people holding you let go, and you nearly topple right over again. Shouts of panic and confusion fill the air, confirming that no one has a clue as to what is going on.

Two dark shapes scream through the sky. You look up just in time to see a fighter jet fly past with a bomber plane following behind. For a moment, you think this is some sort of military aerial show-why such a thing would be happening in the middle of winter, you don’t know-but it’s the only conclusive argument you can decide on what you are seeing.

But then the two planes start descending. They roar over the crowded street, then begin morphing and shaping themselves into creatures completely different from the disguises they previously sported. You recognize them: they are Cybertronians. Robots from outer space who have become borderline celebrities in Detroit since arriving here months earlier. These two, however, aren’t members of the heroic Autobots who help protect the city. They are Decepticons. The villains, the destroyers. The bad ones.

The smaller of the two stretches his arms over his head. He laughs maniacally as he watches people run. “Look at them, Lugnut! They’re scurrying away like little ants!”

The other Deception growls and pays no mind to his partner. “Silence, Blitzwing. Lord Megatron has a mission for us to complete. We must distract the humans while he finds the one he is looking for.”

Blitzwing’s face swivels and changes into an icy blue expression. He surveys the humans around him with an air of disgust. “I don’t understand why Lord Megatron cares to capture one of these creatures. They are far too weak to be kept as pets.”

“It is not my place to question him, nor is it yours. We are here to do as we are told and give our lord the time he needs to complete his mission.” Lugnut grabs a car and throws it into the air. It crashes down with a heavy slam, windows shattering, metal crumpling, alarm screeching out the vehicle’s pain. You watch in horror, unable to fathom that you have a front row seat to this show of destruction Detroit is about to face.

Yeah, no, you think. I’m not sticking around. These Decepticons obviously have no regard for human lives. If you remain here, there is a high chance you will end up dead. You need to run, now.

“You're not going anywhere, little one.”

The voice is deep, and it pulses through your mind like a gong. You clutch your head and bite back a shout of pain. A strange feeling builds up in your chest. It makes your heart beat faster, and your thread begins to burn with an uncomfortable warmth you have never felt before.

A third vehicle appears from the sky: a strange helicopter with two blades and a massive cannon mounted beneath its cockpit. Your hair whips back when it lands. The Cybertronian’s body condenses and rises, metal folding over metal, creating a gigantic figure with narrowed red eyes that immediately land on you the moment they open. Your jaw drops; this is easily the biggest mech you have ever seen. And you recognize him. Megatron, the feared leader of the Decepticon forces, and the worst bot you could run into right now.

Lugnut drops to his knees and bows. “I serve you, Lord Megatron!”

Megatron does not acknowledge him. He remains focused on you. You are finding it hard to breathe.

Blitzwing walks over to the taller mech. “My lord, the Autobots will be arriving soon. What should we do?”

“Continue destroying what you can.” Megatron’s voice is a deep rumble of thunder. You feel the wind get knocked out of you when you hear it. His voice. His voice. Why are you so focused on his voice?

Your thread is beginning to burn. You slap your hand over your left arm and squeeze, hissing through your teeth. Megatron notices; he looks intrigued.

“Have you found what you are looking for, master?” Lugnut asks.

“Indeed I have,” Megatron replies. “And I don’t intend to let it escape me. Resume your orders. Keep the Autobots back for as long as you can. Once I have what we came here for, I will sound the retreat.”

Blitzwing and Lugnut do not question him any further. You, on the other hand, are questioning everything. Why is this robot having such an effect on you? Why can you hear his voice in your head? And why, why is your soulmark on fire?!

He’s here for me. There’s no solid confirmation that has been given to you about this, but you know deep down it is true.

He’s looking right at me.

Shit. Fuck.

Your legs want to move. But your brain forbids it and forces you to remain put, even as other people go running by you, their screams mingling as one high-pitched wail while Blitzwing and Lugnut destroy anything they can get their hands on.

Megatron remains still. He tilts his head with the air of a curious predator who is searching out the weak spots of his prey. You cannot drop eye contact with him. Something about his piercing gaze has you rooted to the spot in which you stand.

Only when he begins lumbering towards you do you snap out of it and run with the rest.

Everything is a blur for you. You nearly get shoved to the ground multiple times by the panicked masses who are fleeing. It feels like Detroit is crashing down. Police drones are flying in to fight back against the Decepticons, but you don’t think for a second they’ll do any damage against them. After all, they hardly ever do.

“Don’t run from me, little one.”

There is pain. So much pain. It is too much for you to handle. It causes you to collapse, clutching your head and writhing in agony.

“You are so much more fascinating than the rest of your pathetic kind.”

The ground trembles. Each step signals the robot drawing closer and closer.

“Why can I feel what you feel? Why does my spark tremble with your fear? I don’t understand it. I need to understand it. So stop running, and come here.”

You need to keep going. Grunting, you struggle to your feet and stumble forward in a haphazard fashion. You don’t even bother looking back to see if the robot is close. You just need to run. You need to hide.

Your miracle appears in the form of a parking garage. Squirming under the partially closed grated gate, you find that it is abandoned; no one is in here with you, and the cars are all empty, abandoned by their owners. You retreat into a corner dark and covered with shadows. It should provide you with the necessary cover you need in order to hide.

You remain in there for what feels like hours. It goes awfully quiet outside. Any remaining civilians are long gone. Somewhere close, you think you hear the sound of mechs duking it out. Your breathing echoes off of the parking garage’s walls, giving you a further sensation of complete unease. Perhaps hiding in here wasn’t the best choice. Maybe you should have continued running with other people to a safer spot. Allowing others to be in your presence would endanger them…but now you are alone, completely defenseless to those who wish you harm. The robot who is currently stalking you can kill you without even thinking about it. By hoping to protect the city, you may have ensured your own doom.

You hear stomping outside. Too loud to be human, too heavy to be an Autobot. Your heart tugs eagerly on its strings in an attempt to break free. It’s a mutual sensation of utter fear and strange wanting.

“Where are you?”

You see the massive head of the mech appear right underneath the gate. A shriek nearly escapes you, and you have to slap your hands over your mouth to quell it. A single roving red eye searches the garage, unblinking.

“I am not known for my patience, human. If you do not show yourself, I cannot guarantee things will end up well for you.”

The eye settles on you. It narrows and a low growl emits from the robot’s intake. “There you are.”

You have no chance to react before Megatron’s hand smashes through the gate. You scream when his fingers curl around you. Tightly pressed against his palm, you struggle and kick your feet while Megatron slowly draws you out into the open.

“Let me go!” you shriek. “Stop! Please!”

Megatron growls again and gives you a warning squeeze. “Fighting me will get you nowhere. Cease this at once, or suffer the consequences.”

Well, that’s threatening. You immediately go limp and snap your mouth shut. Megatron snorts, satisfied. He brings you closer to his face, studying you. You shrink back, flush with panic and terror.

“What is your name, human?” he rumbles.

You stutter out a barely coherent reply. “Y-Y-Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He repeats it to himself. “Y/N…a fitting name. Tell me, have we ever met before?”

“I…I d-don’t believe so?” you say.

“Hm.” He regards you, turning his hand left and right so he can examine you from all angles. “How very interesting.”

“W-What’s interesting?”

“Your mark.” He pushes his thumb under your left forearm. “It’s gone.”

You follow his gaze. Indeed, where your thread should have been-the thread that has been with you for your entire life, a presence in which you believed would never leave you-there is only bare skin. There isn’t a speck of red to be seen. The burning that accompanied it before is gone too, and now there is a sort of settlement weighing on your chest. It is an instinctive rush of fulfillment, like this was meant to happen.

You feel faint. Nothing makes sense anymore when you look back at the robot. “You…You're my soulmate?” you squeak.

“Soulmate.” Megatron stretches the word out into a slow drawl. “So that’s what your species calls it. Yes, you can say that. My kind has a similar phenomenon that affects us.” He opens his mouth and breathes in deeply. “You smell of fear. I can see in your eyes that you know me. So this city is aware of who I am, hm?”

You don’t dare answer. You're way too terrified of how close his massive teeth are to you. You don’t want to think about what might happen if you find yourself between them.

“There is no need to be afraid of me. Our sparks are linked. I would be killing a piece of myself if I were to eliminate you.” He sighs. “As disappointed as I am to discover that my sparkmate is a human, I can learn to work with it. I wish to know more about you, Y/N. I will know why fate tied us.”

“I need to know more.”

“What makes you so different?”

“Foolish little thing, you cannot get away from me.”

“I will get to the bottom of this.”

His thoughts are loud and overwhelming. You shake your head and feel tears gather in your eyes. “Please…It’s too much. Your thoughts-”

“Ah. Is that primitive brain of your overloading? I can hear it. Don’t think your thoughts aren’t in my head as well.” He rises to his full height. “I am sure we will both learn to get used to it. If not, I will have Shockwave create something that will bar my thoughts from entering your mind.”

“Wait! Wait!” You look down. The ground is far away from you. Everything sways queasily when Megatron begins to walk. “No! Put me down!”

“If you vomit on me, I will not hesitate to drop you,” the Decepticon says gratingly.

“Y-You can’t take me with you!” you yell at him. “I can’t be your soulmate! There has to be a mistake!”

“The spark doesn’t lie. Your mark is gone, and I can feel the completion you bring me. There is no question that you are my Other Half. What I want to know is why.” He shakes his head angrily. “It is a burden to have such a weak creature by my side. But I will learn to understand. Perhaps you can show me the few strengths humans possess. Do you think you can convince me to spare your race, little one?”

He’s taking you. He’s not letting you go. You feel faint with horror at the realization that you aren’t getting out of this. Whether you believe it or not, this alien robot is your soulmate.

You’ve gotten exactly what you wanted. But this isn’t how you thought meeting your Other Half would go.

You hear one last thought from Megatron echo ominously in your mind. It sends shivers down your spine. “You are mine now.”

After that, you pass out.

#gator writes #transformers #tfa megatron x reader #megatron x reader #tfa megatron #megatron #transformers x reader #transformers x human reader #reader insert #transformers animated #tfa #maccadam #transformers g/t #giant tiny

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minkdelovely · 5 months

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love and power

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chapter eight

“i want everything i asked for.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: ‘fuck it, do him scared!’ or whatever the saying is, no plot cuz y’all have had enough of that, pheromones are putting in work cuz you have heart eyes, y’all are touch-starved and pent up, half-transformation demon alastor (i hope that makes sense lol), implied demon alastor, little bit of angst or even hurt/comfort at the end? 🥲 smut: clothes ripping, scratching, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, slight degradation & praise kink dynamics, blood play & biting, handjob, orgasm denial, cream pie

word count: 6.6k *maniacal laughter*

author’s note: it wouldn’t be right to start this off without a formal apology for the cliffhanger and then, subsequently, the publishing delay 🥲✨ this ended up being more of a labor of love than i had expected; i just seemed to have such bad luck, this week of all weeks. thank you for your patience, and i hope this makes up for it! @hazelfoureyes one of these days i’ll have some more for you, but until then darling, you ever so kindly ‘asked’ me for smut so… 💅🏻💖

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

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Alastor meant for it to be chaste, really he did. And while he had desperately hoped for acceptance, the ardor with which you returned the kiss was unexpected. The grip of your hands around his wrists was fierce, pulling him in; fingers like sticky fibers against the patch of bare skin nestled between his gloves and the cuff of his shirt.

So you were hungry, too… He couldn’t help but smile against your mouth at the thought.

Finally, his luck was turning around.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

When you offered your help to Alastor, a kiss was the last thing you ever expected.

Actually, you had been fully prepared for him to hurt you somehow, whether it was his intention or not. He had gotten upset so quickly, you assumed it must have been residual animosity from the meeting with Valentino that he could no longer contain. The more you thought about it, you truly understood how degraded he must have been by the whole affair, filling you with a guilt you worried might never go away. He needed a victory.

So offering your help was the least you could do.

But you never could have imagined the way he took your face in his strong hands, holding you with such care despite the intensity roiling off him in his half-formed demonic state. The strain on his face as he struggled to compose himself, his eyes switching back from black with red dials to that familiar searing red. The storming hunger you saw in them, half-lidded, as he closed the gap between you…

Your mind was practically rendered blank, running on instinct; the warm ache throbbing between your hips quickly taking up any remaining space that was left.

His mouth was softer than you expected but his press against you was firm and wickedly practiced. You felt him smile against you and for a moment you forgot to breathe, the resulting gasp being the perfect opportunity for Alastor’s tongue to snake into your mouth. If your eyes hadn’t already been closed, they would have rolled to the back of your head. His tongue was soft and big and hot, his movements steady and filled with purpose; not a drop of wasted effort. You could only hope to keep up…

It was such arduous work keeping your hands at his wrists, floored by the intense desire you had to reach out and touch him. But you didn’t know your limits here. He was still riled up — if anything, you had heard his antlers grow — and you didn’t want to make any wrong moves.

So you put all your longing into the grip of your fingers and mouth, your mind wandering on the feeling of him. Large, elegant hands cupping your face like glass. His body looming over you, offering shelter you were more than willing to accept. His mouth so hot against yours it would leave you feeling cold once it was gone. And he smelled so good this close, smoky and verdant like a bonfire on a crisp autumn night.

Your thighs rubbed together from the pulse radiating there, and he let out a small groan against your mouth as your nails absently dug into the skin of his wrists. The sound of him simultaneously made your legs weak and fanned the flame between them. His voice had always been nice — he didn’t build a career for himself on the radio for nothing — but you felt a growing fear at the aspect of never hearing something like that again after he was sated; knowing that no matter what it would haunt you for eternity.

I really am so fucked…

He was pecking now, his breath and teeth and tongue ghosting over your swollen mouth and face as he feverishly placed multiple at a time. You wanted to reciprocate so badly, whether with your lips or hands, but it was clear he needed to ravish you first so you stayed put in a shocking exhibit of will-power. But when you felt the tug of his teeth against the corner of your jaw you couldn’t stop the shaky moan that escaped you, not even noticing how your hips rolled on nothing but air.

That’s all it took.

Alastor pulled away and gave a quick kiss to your hands before dropping them to take up the torn fabric of your collar. He gave it a sharp pull, tearing your dress straight through to the waist; the sound ringing out in the quiet of your room with the promise of what’s to come. You were too stunned by the suddenness of the action, but the look on your face must have really been something if the expression you were seeing on his was any indication — ravenous and wild.

Your chest heaved with quickening breath, heartbeat kicking and head empty as you felt all the blood in your body rushing down. Too overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, you dared to bury your face in his chest, grateful to be just tall enough to reach. Mortifying as it was, it was all you could think to do.

Though safety wasn’t the only thing you found, pressing in so close to him like this, your throat going dry at the feeling of his arousal against you. No amount of time or experience could have prepared you for this, for him. You were beginning to think that there would be nothing left once he was through with you.

Just need a minute…

Mercifully, he let you. Even going so far as to cradle you against him, cupping the back of your head with his left hand. You relaxed into him, a hot puff of air leaving your mouth to soak into the fabric of his clothes. Alastor’s pleased hum in response vibrated against your face, and you brought your hands up to grip the lapels of his coat for fear of crumbling at his feet.

As you steeled yourself, he didn’t desist from his poking and prodding at your exposed back with his free hand. It disappeared briefly, followed by the faint sound of something falling to the carpet before the air was ripped from your lungs at the touch of his hot, bare skin against yours. You whined into his chest as your back arched against his palm, your fingers nearly ripping through his coat with the force of your grip, earning a gruff and sinister chuckle from him. Being able to bask in the feeling of the rumble in his chest against you was a lovely consolation, though. And just under that… his heartbeat.

His hand against your back regained your attention then, scratching and massaging at its leisure; nails tracing indistinguishable shapes along your skin. Traveling up and down your spine at first, then your shoulders and, finally, the back of your neck where he paused.

His message read loud and clear: time was up.

Alastor pulled you away from him with a gentle firmness, managing to handle you delicately despite his clear desire for haste. You could see it burning in his eyes with no intent to extinguish any time soon. He was so mystifying like this, you couldn’t help but drink him in. Stately, powerful… beautiful. It felt impossible now to have ever been afraid of him in this state of half-transformation. He didn’t seem to mind the admiration, soft smile and lust-heavy eyes radiating with ego.

His antlers look so handsome when they’re branched out like this…

“Shouldn’t you have offered to take my coat by now? I’m your guest, aren’t I?” he teased as he swiped your dumbstruck mouth with the pad of his thumb. The filter dipped in and out over his quiet, low tone of voice, sending a fresh wave of heat to your core and cheeks as you fought the urge to nuzzle your face against his bare hand. How had he already reduced you to this? “But I suppose I haven’t been well-mannered myself. Just look at what’s become of your dress.”

His face was smug as he played with the decimated fabric, fingers dancing across your exposed neck and shoulders before pulling down the long sleeves. They had been the glue, apparently, your dress falling past your hips with ease and into a heap on the floor in near silence. Goosebumps pricked your skin as you stood before him in your underwear, already feeling naked as he took you in. You noticed him focus in on your shoulder and neck, the draw of his eyebrows confirming your earlier suspicion that he had left a bruise.

“It’s fine, it didn’t hurt,” you lied self-consciously, unable to keep the nerves out of your voice. It sounded like an apology. He hadn’t meant it and in the grand scheme of things was a bruise really so bad? It would be gone before you knew it.

He didn’t seem convinced, a sound of disapproval coming from behind his closed lips before a smile took its place. “Hmm… if you say so. Perhaps a kiss to make it better?”

Alastor wasted no time leaning down to place his mouth there, and you sighed as the heat of his wide, wet tongue swiped over it before he closed his lips with a small smack. As he nuzzled in — kissing, licking, sucking, nipping — your shaky fingers took to the task of unbuttoning his coat as he had suggested. The action earning you a growl and a bite, not yet enough to break the skin but taking your breath away all the same; the fire in your belly now flickering up into your chest.

Once the coat was loose you ran your hands under it, starting near his waist to travel up his chest until you reached his broad shoulders. Was he the one who was so hot, or was it you? It was impossible to tell. You used the top of your hands to start working the coat off of him, and he paused from his effort at your neck to assist with removing his arms from it before tossing it off to the side — his remaining glove along with it. You caught sight of the saliva glistening around his mouth and chin before he resumed his station and didn’t even try to hold back the soft moan that escaped you.

What was the point?

With a snarl — that was the closest thing you could think to call it — his hands hooked behind your knees and hiked you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around him for purchase as you gasped. Alastor’s mouth found yours again and you held his face to keep steady as you hunched over him, tears forming at the corner of your closed eyes from the relief of being able to touch him this time.

This kiss wasn’t as poised as the first had been. It was hurried and open-mouthed, messy and deep. Not enough, not enough, not enough. You broke away this time, seizing your opportunity to explore his face with your lips as he had yours. His claws bit into the flesh of your ass as your mouth latched onto his neck, sucking at the pulse you found there. The resulting buck of your hips from the action and the moan he let out only pulling another from both of you.

You didn’t even notice that he had been walking until you were suddenly tossed onto the bed, his body immediately caging you in beneath him. You hooked your legs around him as he ground into you, your cry of pleasure from the friction echoing off the walls. He did it again and you whined, squirming, his hands on either side of your head as he leered down; red eyes glowing with satisfaction.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Alastor took a moment to take in the sight before him, feeling his eyes glitch as he roamed over your flushed face, but made quick work of grabbing it with one hand to pucker your mouth before returning to explore it with his tongue.

It surprised him how much he was enjoying this; kissing you with abandon, somehow never scratching the incessant itch despite his efforts. He captured your bottom lip with his teeth, resiliently managing not to bite straight through it as you moaned into his mouth.

“Alastor…!”

His name was a song on your breath, scorching down from his ears to his cock, all of which reacted with a twitch.

One string loose.

How many more would he need to cut before you went slack?

Who had bound you up like this in the first place? It certainly hadn’t been him. On the contrary, he was so eager to see you torn open and bare, stripped of all the little secrets tangled like knots on your tether to him. Always keeping your guard up around him wasn’t only irritating… it was selfish. And there was only one of you here allowed that luxury.

Still, this was quite the consolation prize, seeing you surrender to him so easily. He had barely gotten started and you were already making such a pretty face for him; a new favorite, even. Your little pout that normally inspired vexation looked sweet like this, swollen with his kisses. It was an image he would soon not forget, being so much better than what he had imagined.

Your scent had truly blossomed now, dizzying him with the potency of its floral, nutty musk; just a hint of sweetness underneath. It complimented his own smoky, green, and bitter scent so well. But Alastor was ready to make his next new discovery, his hips finally lifting away from you as he gave you a final peck on the mouth.

“Hmmm, delicious as your mouth is, there’s another place I’m quite eager to kiss.” He could feel the wickedness on his face as he said it, unable to contain the static that flared around him as you breathed out a curse, body trembling.

Alastor made a slow descent, teasing you with licks and bites and kisses to draw out as many moans and whimpers as he could from you. Such music you made for him. Only for him. It was a good thing he had already resolved to avoid sleep as much as he could in the future; he wouldn’t get much anyway with the sounds you made ringing in his head like church bells.

He could see the damp soaked into your underwear before he even touched them, already intoxicated by the smell and heat wafting off your core. He’d have to be careful here… not an easy task, but he’d manage. The self-advised warning did little to stop him from tearing the garment in half with ease, enjoying the wide-eyed look you gave him as you quickly propped up on your elbows from the sound.

“I’d apologize for frightening you, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t mean it,” he said, holding your gaze as he palmed your bare sex, thrilled by how wet you already were. You were having such a hard time keeping your composure, serving only to egg him on. He hummed and continued, almost surprised by the words that came out of his mouth, “You don’t seem to mind, though… how lewd.”

Your head fell back with a loud whine, arms giving out so that you were flat on your back again; face scarlet as his fingers moved against you, collecting your arousal. His dick throbbed against him at the sight, leaking onto his skin and clothes. He couldn’t help the hiss that spilled from between his teeth when he tested you with his middle finger, tight as you were wet.

“Oh my… it’s been a while for you too, hm? I’m honored,” he cooed, relishing the way you whimpered and clenched at his words. “I do worry how you’ll fare… Contrary to the restraint I’ve shown so far, I must warn you… I don’t have the capacity for gentleness today.”

Your eyes shot open with shock, and with that he removed his finger and brought it up, putting the entirety of it in his mouth to suck you off as you watched. His eyes closed in pleasure, groaning as his tongue lapped up every bit of you, savoring every second. Clean and tart… like a ripe summer cherry. He couldn’t stop the bit of drool that escaped the corner of his mouth, the rush of saliva incensed by your taste coming on too quickly to swallow it all.

Alastor was breathing hard through his nose, a fresh wave of hunger — he wasn’t sure what else to call it — trembling through him with a fierce burning need. His smile and voice were sharp, static fraying as he spoke, “Hmmm… My imagination wasn’t even close. Aiming to please, dear?”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

His fascination with licking you off him would be your second-death. Not only that, but you hadn’t expected him to say any of the obscene things that were spilling from his mouth, let alone the way you were responding to them. You had been subject to dirty talk before and enjoyed it (if done well), but… there was just something about it all coming from Alastor that set your veins on fire.

“Alastor, please, it’s embarrassing,” you pleaded through gasps, watching through half-open eyes as he licked away at his hand. You felt as if you had a fever, your face was so hot, hair already beginning to stick to your forehead with sweat.

As if falling on deaf ears, he merely proceeded to give a sharp tug to his bowtie, removing it in one go before unbuttoning his shirt. Something about the harsh way he pulled his shirt from the belted waist of his pants made you dizzy, but you felt a scream die in your throat watching the way his shoulders and chest moved as he freed his arms, with just the slightest flex of his abdomen; your eyes unable to resist following the trail of hair below his navel that disappeared under his belt.

You had made peace with your budding attraction to him — it was easier that way, considering your near-constant state of proximity — but this felt like being tossed directly into the fire.

Burning at the stake.

As he towered over you, you took in the large, pink scar lacerated across his chest from left shoulder to the right side of his ribcage. There had been mentions of the battle against Adam and his Exorcists within the group; how terrifying it had been, how brave everyone was. The loss of their friend Sir Pentious, who had died trying to help protect them against Adam. That was when the conversation normally tapered off, the grief still too close at his loss, but also because of what led up to it.

From what you understood, Adam had been Alastor’s appointed target to handle. One he was unmatched against, if the scar was any indication. A killing blow he had managed to survive. You hoped the pity you felt wasn’t making its way into your gaze as you looked at him, knowing he’d dislike it. Still… You sat up with hands stretched out, the instinct to touch and comfort him too strong to fight. But he pushed you back down, a shadow coming over his face as he bent over you.

“Patience, sweetheart. I still owe you a kiss.”

You didn’t have time to process the dismissal before he raked his nails on your skin as he dipped down, your back arching up to meet them as you breathed through the small sting of pain. A splash of sobriety hit you as you felt the heat of his breath hovering over your cunt, your stomach tight as he moved closer, a wanton cry as he finally lapped at you with his tongue; a slow, wide, firm sweep from hole to clit. Sealed with a kiss, as promised.

You shuddered and gripped the duvet as if your life depended on it. The image of him nestled between your legs making your brain short-circuit. His eyes were shrouded with a predation that should have terrified you. So why did it thrill you instead?

“Oh my god…”

That wicked grin of his…

“Last I checked, Hell is the absence of God. Let’s try again, shall we?”

He hiked your legs over his shoulders, looped his arms around to grab the top of your thighs, and pulled you to his mouth. You saw white as he didn’t hesitate in setting a voracious pace, his tongue dipped into you — long and thick — as his nose pushed against your clit with every open-and-close of his mouth. His chin providing a pleasant hardness that nearly knocked the wind out of you.

He was incessant.

Sucking, prodding, licking, and swallowing; a starving man who may never eat or drink again. Your hands found purchase on his antlers, a bit smaller now but still looming, earning a moan of approval into your heat that blossomed in your chest. The room was filled with the sound of wet smacks and a harmony of throaty groans from him; keening, breathy moans from you. Both unabashed.

In between breathing his name, words were tumbling from your mouth that you couldn’t register, too lost in the feeling of him on you. Not just your pussy, but your legs, too. His hands gripping your thighs so fiercely as your hips rolled against his face that you hoped for bruises. A keepsake. It was impossible to know if this would ever happen again.

You hadn’t even realized you were slipping away from yourself until he pulled back with a sharp gasp, finally coming up for air, jerking his antlers from your hands. The lower half of his face shimmered with a blend of your arousal and his spit, the sclera of his eyes gone black, dials taking the shape of his red irises. Again, your arms reached out, shaking from the effort as you tried to catch your breath.

“Kiss…,” you barely managed to say, dizzied as you were.

Alastor obliged, climbing up to your open hands as you pulled him down to you, unable to find the strength to meet him halfway. He flinched as you ran your tongue over his left cheek, licking up some of the mess there as he wiped at the other side with the back of his hand. The taste of your combined fluids sent a jolt of pleasure through you and you moaned through the sloppy, open-mouthed kiss that followed. The laugh that escaped him was sinister but sent another wave of warmth through you all the same.

He rewarded you with a finger, followed quickly by another. And before you knew it, another. Pumping in and out of you with a delicious stretch and a maddeningly consistent pace before they curled, teasing your spongy core as his thumb circled your clit at the switch; the sudden onset of your orgasm had your body trembling under his touch.

“Ohh… mm, fuck…! Hmmmnn… Ah—! Alasto—ahh!”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” His voice was rough but soothing. A crackle of static melded into your moans and the wet sounds of your cunt, and he gave his head a violent shake as if to clear it. There was nothing but a growling need when he spoke next. “I’ve got you, don’t fight it. Let me see how pretty that sullen face of yours looks when you cum…!”

It was all too much. Just the intensity of his eyes on yours boxed in between your hands holding his face could have sent you over the edge. But his words again, that pet name…

The tether snapped so viciously you were fairly certain you passed out for a moment, your vision gone black as you screamed. Only to be brought back to consciousness by Alastor’s fingers slowly riding the wave of your orgasm, no longer stroking with purpose — you were clenched around him so tightly his previous pace would have probably injured you both — but with a languid solace. Graciously accepting every roll of your hips into his hand as you moaned his name and gasped for breath.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

God, it was so fucking satisfying to see your face twisted up, eyebrows knit and your pouty lips salaciously framing your open mouth as you cried out for him. Another perfectly shattered expectation, much like the rest of this experience had been. He didn’t even mind that your eyes were shut. The consolation being the glimpse he caught of them rolling to the back of your head before they were out of sight. That, and, this would only be your first. He was determined to get at least one more out of you before this was over, truly unsure how much you could handle.

He was surprising even himself, speaking to you in the manner he was. He enjoyed a good tease, but he couldn’t recall going to this extent before. Perhaps it was a result of the pheromones, but he simply couldn’t seem to help it. The reactions it was pulling from you were too exhilarating to deny himself… and by extension, you.

His static was filling the air, buzzing with the energy of a lightning storm as he sucked you off his fingers once more with a snarl; his free hand sloppily undoing his belt before giving it a freeing tug, desperately hard erection weeping slightly at the bit of alleviation. As the realization that he was preparing to enter you sunk in another ripple of goosebumps pinpricked his skin, causing him to bite down on the inside of his lip from the sensation.

The taste of his own blood came with inspiration.

Alastor tucked back some of your damp hair before bringing his face down to meet yours, swiping at your lips with his blood-coated tongue. Testing the waters. Your eyebrows drew together and you stretched underneath him, as if waking from a night’s sleep, before blinking your eyes open. He watched as your tongue responded with a quick prod of what he had left there, and felt his smile grow when you let out a hum of content.

He would never tire of being right.

“I thought you might like that, my little killer… Have some more,” he whispered against you. Giving your lips another rough lick before taking your mouth again, groaning into each other as your tongue soothed his still-bleeding lip.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Something about this kiss was different.

There was a fierceness this time that hadn’t been there before, no doubt spurred on by the blood pooling in Alastor’s mouth. It had been shocking to taste at first but then… you found that it wasn’t too bad. Diluted with saliva, it was almost sweet, and you relished the way he enjoyed your tasting of it.

Your hands traveled up to the back of his head, gently scratching the prickly velvet of his undercut with one while the other pulled at the hair on his crown. His hiss into your mouth made you moan with another jump of your hips, and you felt him shift over you then; vaguely aware of the sound of him unceremoniously tugging down his pants before he took your hand from his crown and brought it between you.

The gasp that escaped you was sharp, your hand instinctively wrapping around his length as he guided you through stroking him. He was so hard, wet, and heavy, burning to the touch, but distant alarms were ringing about your ability to take him all. It scared you how much you wished to try.

His moan of relief was another keepsake, the sound of it so soft and pleading in your ear that you nearly sobbed from your desire. You couldn’t help but wonder what his face looked like, making a sound like that, and found yourself jealous of the skin of your neck he was hiding in. You stayed like this for a moment, his hand leaving you to work on its own as he cradled the opposite side of your head to lick and kiss your neck between gasps and moans. With a final nip to your skin Alastor pulled back, the mattress dipping as he put all of his weight onto his forearm to the right of your head as he adjusted himself.

“Don’t close your eyes,” was all he said before pressing into you, the tip of his cock already threatening to overwhelm you as it teased your entrance.

It was not an easy task, your eyebrows drawing together in such a way that it nearly blurred your vision. You whined between closed lips, doing your best to breathe through the sweet stretch of him finally entering you. Despite his direction, he didn’t seem to be doing much better; sweat beading on his forehead over furrowed brows, kiss-swollen mouth open with panting breaths. Flushed cheeks. Even in the state he had reduced you to, you were trying to sear the image of his lust-strained face into your psyche.

He was rocking his hips slowly, allowing you to adjust to him with each little thrust as your arousal coated him, easing his advance; breathy moans collecting between you in puffs of steam, joining the two of you together in all the places you weren’t touching.

All the while, your eyes were locked on each other. Had anyone else ever seen his the way they were now and found them beautiful instead of horrifying? You moaned as you stared at him; taking in his large, elegant antlers and sweat-damp hair, reminding you of the bedhead you had seen the other morning. His handsome and sinister face. He could easily tear you to shreds — and in a certain way, he was — but you were overwhelmed at the amount of care he had shown you so far, even with his earlier warning.

His thrusts were building in sharpness, parting you with a tantalizing push-and-pull until he finally bottomed out with a growl. You cried out from the fullness he gave you, already twitching around him despite his stillness as he gave you both a moment to try and catch your breath.

Alastor peppered your face with kisses and licks as you relaxed into him, testing you with a shallow thrust that had you biting down on your lip. Another. Another. Another. Until your mouth was hanging open, your hands traveling up to hold onto his triceps in your need for stability and to keep him close. Suddenly you felt him leave you completely, not even able to process the emptiness before he slammed back into you with a harsh grunt that made you squeal; writhing as he pressed up into your cervix.

He must have really enjoyed that, because he did it again. And again. And again. Settling into an excruciatingly blissful pace, his hard length massaging knots out of your body you didn’t know where there. Your legs instinctively hooked around him, nails digging into the flesh of his arms as you gasped and whined.

“So — ah..! Good… Alastorrr…!”

“Fuck!” he hissed between gritted teeth as your hips bucked, brows knit tight as he shook his head as if to clear a fog.

You didn’t know he was actually trying to keep something at bay, the additional inch of growth in his antlers lost on you in your current state.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Alastor’s hips stuttered for a moment before muscle memory guided him back to rhythm, desperate to regain the ecstasy that was torn from him. It had been a close call, but he managed to keep the switch from happening. Though the monster inside was still there, clawing at him just below the surface.

He felt as your hands moved from their place on his triceps (which he had quite enjoyed) to settle on his chest, your fingers delicately tracing his scar. The line wasn’t steady though, perforated by the impact of his thrusts, which you were handling with a surprising welcomeness.

It was almost…

There it was again, lying in wait; that ravenous, goading shadow roiling inside of him.

Take the risk…

Could he, though? Composing himself was practically second-nature, after all…

Say it!

Alastor exhaled, somewhere between a growl and a sigh. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” He allowed himself to relish the sound of your cry and the blissed out look on your face, which in turn provided a moment to steel himself before continuing, “I didn’t think you’d be this greedy.”

“Fuuuck…! Alast — oh my god…!”

A fresh wave of your arousal flooded over him as you desperately rolled your hips to meet him, but the intention had been to make you climax — and judging by the way you were spasming around him, you were close. Not drive him to his own at the sight of your glowing eyes, just as they had that day in the alley.

He had miscalculated.

With an agonizing force of will he pulled out of you, harsh breaths straining his lungs as he got off the bed to hastily remove his pants and shoes. He groaned through the ripple of adrenaline that was tearing through him, heartbeat pounding in his ears like a drum, the feeling of it causing his hair to stand on edge. Fuck. He wouldn’t be able to hold it off… not this time.

“What’s wrong?” Despite the question, your voice was still so thick with lust that it made his back hunch over.

It was taking all he had not to wrap his arms around himself in what he knew would be a useless attempt at containment. Even breathing was painful. The air saturated with the smell of sweat and sex and Valentino’s goddamn pheromones!

I really am going to kill that son of a bitch!

“Alastor…?”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Burning at the stake.

It had been a good way to put it.

He had been burning you alive before dousing you with ice.

What had gotten into him? What had gotten into you? No one had ever said something like that to you before and received anything but a slap in the face. Greedy… The word made your heart stutter, some of the blood from the lower half of your body traveling back up to your face. Was it true?

Embarrassment was beginning to sober you up. Had you gone too far? It seemed strange that you had, considering the words came from his mouth and not yours. Fuck, all of this had started because of him. How else had he wanted you to react? Or was he ashamed of himself?

Was he regretting this already?

“What’s wrong?”

You watched as his back arched up like a spooked cat, the force of his breathing revealing the ribs and notches of spine under the skin. He looked like he was in pain… Maybe the scar on his chest wasn’t as healed as it seemed? You climbed off the bed and made a timid approach.

“Alastor…?”

He flinched at the touch of your hand with a hiss, the shock of his reaction making you trip over yourself and fall back onto the bed. He kept his back to you when he spoke next, the absence of his filter making you shiver in pleasure and worry.

“You remember what I told you earlier, yes?”

I don’t have the capacity for gentleness today.

How could you not remember that?

“I do,” you answered, just above a whisper.

He straightened himself then, still turned away from you and managing to look regal despite his trembling. “I need you on all fours… and you must promise not to turn around. Do you understand?”

It was a question that didn’t leave room for any response other than yes. So you just positioned yourself on the bed, facing your headboard and gathered the pillows there underneath you for support. You had just finished settling when you felt his weight dip the mattress behind you, heart in your throat as he ran his nails down your spine before slipping his fingers into you.

You both sighed as he pumped you, filling the room with that familiar lewd sound between breaths. Stoking the embers of your stolen orgasm with every drag, until he removed them completely. You whined at his absence, the tightness in your belly teetering somewhere between pleasure and pain as you heard him shudder through stroking himself. His free hand resting now on your hip.

“Don’t get comfortable. If you cum facing away from me I’ll never touch you again.” His voice was tight with effort, the filter over it harsh and pocketed as he adjusted himself behind you, the grip of his hand on your left hip promising to bruise.

To your shame, the threat alone almost made you, a graceless moan tumbling out from your chest as you barely managed to nod your head in confirmation; your cunt flexing around the words echoing in your mind. The obscene sight of it drew out a sound from Alastor that could only be described as animalistic, earning the plump skin of your hip a few punctures as he thrust into you, bottoming out.

It was a brutal pace, his cock nearly leaving you with every thrust before plunging back in. He still had one hand on your hip while the other grabbed your shoulder, the slapping sound of your skin meeting quickly overpowering the gasps and moans falling from your mouths.

“Haahhh… nnghh…! …fuck!”

“Alastor…”

You felt him twitch inside of you at the sound of this name before he practically shouted, “Again…!”

The blush burned down from your face into your chest, but you complied and whined his name again. And again. Until it seemed to be the only word you knew.

“Ohhh, fuuuck…,” he hissed, followed quickly by a snarl.

You could’ve sworn you heard fabric tearing before a green glow reflected off the lacquered wood of your headboard. Alastor’s huge silhouette taking shape as it intensified; invoking the image of a nightmarish spider more than the deer demon you knew. You closed your eyes and buried your face in the pillows you had gathered, refusing to turn around despite your instinct to do so. And even through the fear, you still felt your orgasm building, the battle to keep it at bay quickly turning against your favor.

“Alastor… I… I can’t… I—”

The words were stolen as he suddenly bit into your shoulder, his mouth so wide you felt his teeth sink in from shoulder blade to collarbone. You screamed into the pillows as his hips stuttered, until there was a final thrust so deep it would have pained you if it weren’t for your throbbing shoulder. His seed spilled out hot and thick, fueling the aching fullness inside you as he grunted into your flesh; teeth still latched to you as if making a primal claim.

Hot tears fell down your face as he rode out his orgasm behind you, unsure if they were caused by the savage bite to your bruised shoulder or lament over the deprivation of seeing his face. But you had done as you were told, managing not to turn around or climax. The bite he was now nursing with licks and sucks and kisses providing plenty of distraction.

Almost too much…

As he tried to catch his breath, you could feel him shrinking behind you as he pulled out, his slick torso laying flat against your back as he lapped up the blood dribbling from the bite. And in between his kisses that traveled from your shoulder to your tear-stained face, his hands were petting you with such a tenderness it only wrought more tears.

His soothing whispers of shhh, I know, I’m sorry, I’ve got you, I’m sorry ringing in your ears as he brought you to lie down, cradling you to him as he caressed your face with his hands that inflicted such pain and comfort… protection.

For what seemed like hours, the two of you laid in silence, looking into each other’s eyes as his thumb stroked your cheek. Until finally you buried your face into his chest, hands over his heart.

And slipped into shadow.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

ps: phew! we fucking made it y’all… i truly hope it was worth the wait. but i do want to announce here that i will be taking a little break. i know this one was already late, but it kinda took a piece of my soul lmao since we only have two more chapters i need to make sure i have all my ducks lined up to wrap this with a pretty little bow. thank you for your patience and love, i really do appreciate you. and i’ll see you on may 5th 💖

tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco, @redfoxwritesstuff, @chibistar45, @kaylopolis, @cutiebimbo, @lousypotatoes, @rfox1998, @cosmic-lavender

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fan fiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #slow burn #alastor slow burn #song fic #if i can't have love i want power #love and power #x reader #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #alastor x reader slow burn

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zephyrchama · 4 months

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Vampire MC part III - with Leviathan

heads up - this is suggestive

(intro/vampire MC masterlist can be found here)

It was no surprise you hadn’t run into Leviathan since your transformation. He was more elusive than most demons.

You didn’t have a chance to see him until there was a commotion out in the hall. You peeked your head out from behind the bedroom door just in time to see Leviathan trip and fall, splendidly faceplanting on the hallway floor. Hard enough to make you wince. Mammon cackled as he ran around a corner, seizing his chance to escape.

“You have twenty four hours, you deadbeat!” Leviathan shouted, punching the floor and rubbing his fist into the ground. He was absolutely seething. His tail trailed out behind him, thrashing to and fro and bumping against the walls.

You opened the door a little wider. “Did Mammon forget to pay you back again?”

“Gah!” Leviathan, in the midst of picking himself up, stumbled and almost fell down again. “H-how long have you been there? No, uh, nevermind. Ughh. How uncool of me…”

He went to wipe his nose with a sleeve. That’s when you caught a whiff of something delectable.

”Levi, are you injured?”

“Huh? No? Oh, wait…” It was hard to see on the black fabric covering his hand, but you clearly spied a thin red line dripping out his nose. It was hard to ignore.

You gripped the door tightly, shying back behind it so Levi couldn’t see your face. “Come in here a second.”

---

The two of you sat on your bed as you fiddled with the latch of a first aid kit. The alluring scent of blood had a grip on your concentration and the more you tried to focus on the kit, the less your fingers seemed to work. Leviathan draped his tail over the footboard where it anxiously thudded against the hardwood every few seconds.

“So, um. I guess we both have a reason to avoid the sun now, huh? Ha…” he awkwardly trailed off. Leviathan looked concerned, like there was something more important to say, but he couldn’t quite find the words. He watched you with pity. All he could manage was, “are you okay? I know you’ve been through a lot, probably.”

As he spoke, another drop of blood slid down his face which he tried to cover with his hand. Your posture stiffened as you fought to ignore it. Leviathan was wholly ignorant of how much you were holding back. After all, vampires are supposed to attack humans. Who ever saw a vampire go after a demon?

The first aid kit finally popped open with a loud crack, spilling bandages and gauze over the sheets. You both jumped. In the scramble to help put everything back, Leviathan leaned in a little too close. Your pupils thinned and instinct took over, a burning urge to take care of the blood before it dried up.

You grabbed Leviathan by the shoulder. Not strongly, but enough for him to pause and give you a questioning look. Enough time to quickly close the distance between you.

Leviathan froze in place as you dragged your tongue over his lips and under his nose, cleaning up the traces of nosebleed. He was completely still, save for the quiver of his lips when your fangs lightly pressed down on them. Your hands moved to his chest as you snaked your tongue down his chin, lapping across the bare skin on the front of his neck, and prepared for a juicy bite. He held his breath. However, the sensation of something hard and cold on your teeth jolted you out of the fog.

It was easy to forget that Leviathan had scales on the side of his neck when in demon form. You pulled away with a “sorry,” mortified to have licked his face like that, but Leviathan started trembling in excitement. He was panting.

“That was just like Scarlet Moon! Even the way your eyes changed color! Do they do that when you’re hungry? It was just like my favorite scene from the spin-off manga when Kyuu and Ki-chan are locked in the forbidden tower and need to feed to restore their magic and escape.” His leg and tail bounced and his face was flushed. He kept talking on about the series and you couldn’t tell if his cheeks were red from being in such close proximity to you or from being so excited about his anime. Maybe both.

That paltry sample only made you more hungry though, like a light appetizer before the main course. You pushed the medical kit aside.

“Levi, you taste really good.” You parted your lips and breathed slowly, trying to pick up the scent again. It lingered on his gloves. “Can I have some more?” you asked. It wasn’t your intention to sound needy, the words just so happened to come out that way.

“Me? You really want some of me?” He could see the truthfulness in your body language, in how your eyes were now a deep crimson. Leviathan was not used to being craved. He covered his face again and wrapped his tail tightly around the bedpost, as if to anchor himself. As if he was the one losing control instead of you.

“I’m going to get eaten by a vampire? By you?” he stammered. “ I don’t think my heart is ready yet, do I need a bath? No, don’t run. That's pathetic. I’d do anything for you. I can do this! I’m just like Kyuu, I’m ready!”

You were gearing up while he rambled and pounced as soon as Leviathan gave the go-ahead. He yelped, not expecting you to literally jump on him and push him back against the footboard. Your fingers dug into his hoodie while your lips searched the bare side of his neck. The sound of his blood rushing a mile a minute made finding a prime vein easy.

His fanboy heart was too overwhelmed thinking about how cool this was - something he always fantasized of! - to fully notice your body melding against his as your thirst was satiated. He'd realize it when trying to relive the memory later. His hoodie made for a comfortable head rest.

Leviathan wondered, would it be too weird to ask you to do this again while you watched Scarlet Moon together?

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1-marigold-1 · 9 months

Text

An AU thingy that umm, please listen to my ramble I beg you :[

Hello!!! Had this AU in mind for a bit too long decided to dump it all here :] sorry if it's all a bit messy I'm bad at organising those stuff hghghgghg <-- delusional (explanation and story below the images)

So:

I call it the FMN AU [Forget-Me-Not] and it's set in a fantasy world of course, in a great Empire of Heremitaran.

Because of how big the Empire is, it's divided in two, with two rulers: Ren The King of the North known for his bravery, plenty of victories, feared by those outside of his Empire , and the other one in the Sout is ... well... Mumbo.. (yes he's a king because his father died, he sucks at it tho, can't help but be that wet poor cat and not knowing what to do).

And that's when we come in with Grian and Scar.

There's a crown, to be specific, called the Vacivus Halo which is safely kept in Ren's vault , away from the rest of the world. It's the most powerful thing ever known, and Watchers are ready to fight for it against Listeners, who are worshipped by most of north people and Ren himself. The war those two spiecies of angel-gods started over a crown has been going for many centuries and now when Listeners has had it for themselves for so long, Watchers start to fear that they might use it against them to finally get rid of the enemy.

The crown has been under Watchers' control for some time too, that's when they tasked Mumbo's father with protecting it, but he died at war, crown got stolen, landed in Ren's hands and now all they got is Mumbo... They quickly realized that he's definetely not... well.. worthy? So they give the task of getting it back to an orphan living near the palace. He's a poor chicken keeper until he meets one of The Watchers disguised as a snake, asking him for help, the snake promises him everything he wants. So he agrees.

He gets powers such as:

Manipulating others' minds [putting images and memories that never existed before into anyone's head ]. It's his most powerful ability that he uses by just looking into their eyes, yet there's one thing about it: he can't make people forget the things he puts in their heads.

Flight, he has a cape that turns into wings when needed.

He can see what his snake sees whenever he wants, so he can use it to spy on people.

With those abilities he fools everyone at the palace into believing he's Mumbo's new guard and personal assasin, so he can be always close to the ruler who should be visiting the North very soon... he also makes friends with the young king, they get along pretty well.

Meanwhile Scar has a simmiliar story, though he was an assasin and Ren's guard before Listeners chose him. Ren is still in a good shape and probably will still be a good protector of the crown, but they felt like they need more than one If Watchers ever plan on getting the crown back, so they chose Scar by appearing to him as a cat, they wanted to tell him that they are ready to give him anything he wishes for but he was like "KITTY!!!!!!!! HELLO YOU SO CUTE!!" and agreed right away, just to have a scarf that turns into a cat...... he likes cats alright, he's been feeling pretty lonely recently too...

Scar's powers are:

Super speed [he got it with the boots]

Sensitive Hearing

Completely silent walking

He also got his cat [he named it Jellie because it's semi-transparent like a jelly when in not-scarf form lol] that can transform into a tiger like creature sometimes.

Yeah guess what.

They meet. Grian and Scar. They. Meet.

And they uhhh kinda make friends with eachother and don't really think that they might be enemies.

Watchers don't know that Scar is Listeners' servant, and the other way around, Listeners don't know that Grian is Watchers' servant.

Things escalate from here...... and that's where the story starts!

I have plans on making short comics and stories to tell you the lore piece by piece, but be aware that updates won't be very often, I'll try tho!

ASK ABOUT ANYTHING I WILL ANSWER THE QUESTIONS

Also

Just wanted to add that I made this AU long time ago and Jellie is a fundamental thing in it, very important, as much as she was important to all of us, may she rest in peace <3

#trafficblr #hermitblr #hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #traffic life smp #grian #grian fanart #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #gtws fanart #desert duo #renthedog #rentheking #mumbo jumbo #fmnau

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autistichalsin · 9 months

Text

My incomplete list of circumstantial bits of evidence for werebear!Halsin

Note: I can see the case for both Halsin knowing AND not knowing that he's a werebear- I'm going to include both here.

The most glaring: Halsin can't control his wildshape. This is highly unusual for any Druid, let alone an Archdruid of his age and power. He not only can't control the transformation when experiencing strong emotions, but he can't entirely control his actions when scared or angry; he tells the player, after being rescued from the goblin pens, that he will be unable to not attack the goblins threatening them. This makes no sense for a wildshaped Druid, but makes plenty of sense for a terrified werebear. 1B. No other Druids in the entire game have the wildshape problems Halsin does. 1C. Halsin can control all his other wildshapes properly, and behaves much more like other Druids when using them.

Werebears who haven't learned to control themselves yet (such as if they don't know they are one, are recently turned, etc) often transform unexpectedly when threatened.

Halsin's bear wildshape is treated differently than any other; it's the only wildshape he can't control, and it has a separate mechanic to other wildshapes in-game, being activated not with other wildshapes, but on the screen for abilities that are an intrinsic part of the character's skills. Yes, this is probably because it's only Halsin who can do this, but circumstantially... it is interesting.

Werebears avoid biting to prevent spreading their lycanthrophy (unless they have negotiated with the person they are trying to turn). As far as I've seen (I DEFINITELY could be wrong, though, please let me know if I am), Halsin only ever uses his claws to attack- no biting attacks.

If you look at the sky during the romance scene with the player, the moon is shown very bright and prominent; it isn't 100% certain, but it looks like it could be full.

Halsin is VERY different from his normal personality in bear form, excluding the romance scene; if you use Speak With Animals when he's in the cage, he'll say things like "time for blood" as he prepares to attack the goblins. Werebears in bear form are noted for being irritable and quick to violence, though they attempt to mitigate the effects of these impulses through self-isolation so no one innocent is harmed. 6B. Halsin in normal form tries very hard to not get violent when possible, noting that "killing is never [his] first choice", yet when needs must, he won't hesitate to kill- the opposite of the bear.

If Halsin doesn't know he's a werebear (explaining him not telling you), it's worth noting that it IS possible for werebears who weren't born as such not to be aware, with any actions taken during the full moon tending to get written off as bad dreams. Halsin could just think he has a recurring nightmare about losing control of his bear form.

Halsin resonates wit bears a lot deeper than most other Druids do with their favorite animals. Kagha comes the closest with her love of snakes, but even she speaks more metaphorically, whereas Halsin will do it literally, such as a new, as-yet-unimplemented line where he says he hopes "an old bear" can help the player, making jokes about poking the bear, etc. in fact, he refers to himself as a bear more often than he refers to himself as an elf.

Halsin makes reference to honey mead being his favorite drink. Werebears have a special honey mead concoction they enjoy. This drink is highly intoxicating to non-were, which means it might be more intoxicating than other drinks to were too.

Halsin is shown having an alignment that leans far more towards good than neutral, whereas most of the Druids in this game have a neutral alignment. Werebears are one of two weres in DND lore that have a good alignment.

Werebears usually live solitary lives. Circle of the Moon Druids are noted as being very solitary as well, with it being possible to go weeks without seeing another Druid (though Archdruids of this Circle will of course be more involved). Halsin, before becoming Archdruid, is implied to have fit this, such as him making reference to having hibernated in bear wildshape.

However, werebears are still noted to have a strong sense of community, and they often act as guardian of a particular area. Like Halsin protecting his Grove, then protecting his commune in the end, even noting that his urge to roam has dwindled after finding the latter. In fact, werebears are noted to often be sedentary and prefer not to leave their homes; Halsin is restless and roaming until the epilogue, when all his traumas are resolved, at which point he settles and shows contentment at having gone from "a life of high adventure" to one of anything but. (He says this to the player if romanced, worrying that he took them from just that life, but he repeatedly says he is happy to have given up adventuring.)

It is noted that when werebears don't isolate, one of the more common choices for werebears is.... you guessed it. Becoming a Druid.

Werebears have the ability to call local bears to them. The Emerald Grove has three bears living there.

Werebears don't marry, but might have favorite mates they visit often. Depending on player choice, Halsin might end up a bit more committed than the latter, but still less than the former. Also, this ties in well with Halsin's stated philosophy on polyamory, with him specifically stating that a bear's coupling habits suit him more than another animal's, like, say, a wolf, would.

It is well-known by now that there used to be a Bard Origin named Helia, who would have been either a Halfling or a Gnome. Helia also would have been a werewolf. While it's not known for sure that she was cut specifically FOR Halsin to be made playable (it's doubtful, given how early Helia was cut), there are signs that parts of her story might have been given to Halsin. For example, if one looks in datamined dialogues, certain goblin camp scenes still say that it could be either Helia or Halsin's bear there. Such as this one for the goblin kids running off to warn the adults: "Panicked, the kids run to the room with the goblin warriors and call for help, because the bear / Helia has escaped. After that they disappear." (Not sure if they still run in the final game, but the PAD is still in the files.) Or for the goblin kids throwing rocks before the cutscene is triggered, "One of the goblin kids that is throwing rocks at Helia or the bear." I don't want to speculate too much about cut content, but this suggests that Halsin and Helia's stories may have intertwined somewhat, and that when Helia was cut, parts of her went to Halsin. This may be why Halsin's bear wildshape was written more like him being a were instead; in a meta sense, he "became" a lycanthrope when he inherited part of Helia's story.

Halsin is wide/tall, muscular, and has body hair (though not facial hair), to the point that people repeatedly comment on how unusual he is for an elf. Unusual for an elf, but not a werebear, who are noted for being, you guessed it, wide/tall, muscular, and hairy.

Werebears who are bitten instead of being born as such are almost always transformed by a more experienced werebear and then taken as a protege, to become a guardian of the forest, which would explain a LOT about Halsin if he chose this.

Halsin shows a lot of empathy and compassion for Astarion and the Dark Urge. While of course it could just be his genuinely kind nature, it could also be him relating it to his own experience as a werebear.

Lastly, there's this art from the collector's edition; my guess is that this art was made after they decided Halsin would be playable, but before Karlach had an official design (the IGN interview indicates that Karlach was only added earlier this year, leaving a wide window for this to happen). While this is, of course, subjective, the pose and juxtaposition of the bear to Halsin looks a lot like the sort of art used in werewolf movies. Sort of like how one of Halsin's point-and-click lines, "the power of the bear lies within me," sounds very were-like too. This one is more subjective than the others, but I still wanted to include it.

This is all circumstantial, I know, but i thought it might be interesting to get out there nonetheless!

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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kesujo · 24 days

Text

Chapter 6: Miss Pet - Part 2

Previous chapter here.

“How do you want it?”

The hopeful expression in Tiffany’s eyes was quickly overtaken by an excited one. “Really?”

“Uh huh.”

“Thank you so much, I love you, Master!” Although those three particular words caught him off guard, his attention was immediately brought back to the chipper, energetic girl in front of him, who elected to jump onto his lap. Her arms went around his neck while her tail snaked around her waist, wrapping around Seojun’s throbbing member.

Seojun jumped, his fist clenching as a shudder ran down his body. Tiffany shifted forward, her eyes shining with joy and lips curving upwards in excitement. She rubbed her object of desire against her sopping wet slit, a pleased hum filling the air, the submissive succubus’s eyes fluttering shut as a wave of ecstasy filled her.

So hard had she worked for the privilege of being able to rub her Master’s cock against her aching pussy that it was screaming its wish to be filled to its owner. However, Tiffany wanted to revel in the feeling first. Like some sort of masochist, she withheld that satisfying feeling from herself, indulging in the steadily growing sensation of neediness. That budding feeling of want gradually transformed into raging desire, which over time became an overwhelming need. Tiffany’s sounds of pleasure grew in parallel, her hums and sighs transforming into full-out moans, her soaked slit continually pouring its juice onto Seojun’s member, thoroughly lubricating it with another layer of a different form of her bodily fluid.

It was only when Tiffany’s lust grew to the turning point of the edging she was inflicting on herself that Tiffany finally gave in. “Master, may I…?”

Seojun could tell what Tiffany was doing, and although feeling Tiffany’s smooth, drenched labia rub across his entire length was amazing, Seojun himself was starting to feel a little impatient. The accompanying visual only added onto the appeal: the way Tiffany’s eyes grew increasingly crossed, the way her chest heaved increasingly more noticeably, the bits of her arousal increasingly seeping into her hums and sighs and moans, everything was a feast for the eyes.

As enjoyable as it was to see Tiffany basking in the pleasure of edging herself, Seojun was also feeling his patience wearing thin as his lust increased. So when he heard those magical words, reeking of desperation and desire, he somehow managed to mask his ecstatic response in the calm manner matching his role in their master-servant roleplay. “Go ahead, Tiffany.”

When Tiffany finally plunged down onto his cock, hilting herself in one fell swoop, the two let out such a sexually-charged, synchronized groan that Taeyeon, who was observing from behind, had moved her hand away from Seojun’s side and onto her own pussy.

In that instant, the lust that had built up inside the two burst out all at once. Tiffany’s head was thrown back, her back arched, her hip and leg muscles flexing and the hot walls of her vagina tightening around Seojun’s sensitive sex organ. She relished in the sensation, rotating her hips against Seojun’s crotch, the pleasurable friction from the action drawing out further moans from the two.

“Ahn! Master’s cock is stretching my small pussy so much!”

But while Tiffany was enjoying the fruits of her torturous labor, Seojun was enjoying the body of not only Tiffany, but Taeyeon as well. At his front was Tiffany, her lascivious body pressed up firmly against him and her hot, soaking wet pussy wrapped tightly around his cock, and against his back was Taeyeon’s less curvaceous yet equally soft body, the sounds of her gentle moans while she fingered herself joining the symphony of sounds of pleasure from her best friend and her servant.

Tiffany’s plump, inviting lips and big, expressive eyes paired with curves giving way to a body just begging to be fucked, and Taeyeon’s beautiful, spotless skin that stretched over her ample chest and tight butt, both bodies were simply to die for. In a previous life, Taeyeon and Tiffany would’ve been the subject of Seojun’s fantasies, but to feel both of them at the same time was even more stimulating than he could’ve ever imagined.

“Master feels so good inside me!” Tiffany’s alluring voice echoed inside the bedroom, vibrating with the cadence of her bouncing atop Seojun’s cock. Seojun himself was no slouch, hands tightly gripping her hips and burying his cock deep into Tiffany with each thrust. So far did Seojun penetrate the succubus’s pussy, spewing out further lubrication to counteract its increasing tightness, that he could feel the tip of his penis brush against her cervix with nearly every thrust. The resonating sound of Tiffany’s dampening butt, ripples coming off it from the force of their connection, joined in on the symphony of sex. “I love Master’s cock so much, please use me like your personal sex toy!”

Seojun had inadvertently been staring straight at Tiffany’s vigorously bouncing tits the entire time and was so absolutely hypnotized by the sight that it took those words for him to accept the invitation, diving down and capturing her right breast with his mouth.

“Master…”

The whimper escaped from Tiffany as Seojun’s lips planted kisses along her soft mounds, small sparks of pleasure erupting from every point of contact. Feeling the sheer softness on his lips was addictive, but even more so was Tiffany’s response: demure whines and moans, her back arching slightly to allow him easier access.

“Master, I’m supposed to be paying you back, not making you do more work…”

“It’s alright Tiffany, I want to do this.”

“Master—ah!” This time, an abrupt squeal escaped from Tiffany, Seojun taking Tiffany’s invitingly swollen and pink nipples into his mouth and suckling on them. “Master!”

While Seojun feasted on Tiffany’s tits, Taeyeon was pressing hers firmly against his back, taking advantage of Seojun’s exposed neck by planting kisses along it.

“You’re fortunate your Master takes such good care of you, Fany.”

“Master is the most generous, kindest Master one could ask for~” Tiffany agreed in an almost purr of gratification.

To Seojun, he was being anything but generous. His fingers were cheating further and further down to feel the soft butt bouncing so fiercely against his groin, his thrusts increasing arbitrarily with Tiffany forced to match his pace, his lips ruthlessly attacking Tiffany’s rack and mercilessly tugging and pulling at the pink nubs sitting atop her breasts just begging to be suckled on, each and every single one of his actions were driven strictly by his own desire.

“More, Master! Harder! Destroy my undeserving pussy, ravish my boobs, turn my ass red and my insides white!”

But it seemed Tiffany didn’t mind, in fact relishing in her Master’s selfishness, a never-ending stream of moans and words of motivation only egging Seojun on. He was completely lost in his own cloud of ecstasy, barely noticing the added feeling of Taeyeon’s lips pressing against his until he felt her tongue run against the wet membrane. The sweet taste flooded his senses, briefly confusing him before realizing what Taeyeon had done.

The older succubus had manifested Seojun’s lips on his neck and was making out with it, Tiffany watching on in jealousy. When Taeyeon noticed this, she looked up, eyebrow cocked. “You’re such a needy girl, Tiffany,” Taeyeon noted, her hand reaching up to tuck a few stray strands of hair behind the bouncing woman’s ear. “You have your Master’s cock in your pussy and your Master’s mouth on your boobs, and now you also want your Master’s lips on yours?”

“I-I’m sorry, Mistress…”

“I think you need some punishment later, but for now enjoy all the attention Seojun is giving you.”

Seojun came up for air, Taeyeon quickly moving her head back to make room for it. “You’re doing a good job of paying me back, Tiffany. Why don’t you be a good girl and turn around for me?” Tiffany nodded, the dejected expression on her face replaced with an excited one.

“Yes, Master!” Tiffany hastily unsheathed herself, her body shaking as bits of her honey leaked past her closed lips and onto Seojun’s crotch, before turning around and presenting her delectable ass to Seojun. “Master can sit back and relax and let Tiffany do it.”

“Thank you, Tiffany.”

His eyes were trained solely on the sight of Tiffany’s dainty fingers reaching across the supple skin on her butt and spreading those cheeks apart, carefully backing up, carefully lining up her entrance with his throbbing tip before splitting her labia lips apart with his shaft.

“Master!”

Tiffany’s sexually-charged yelp rang inside Seojun’s head, the pleasant sensation joining the added feeling of her moist walls gripping his cock tightly, gliding along the length of his shaft as it slid to the hilt back inside the younger succubus. Seojun’s arms wrapped around Tiffany’s waist, head resting on her shoulder, eyes closed while soaking in the divine feeling of Tiffany’s plush yet firm ass massaging the sensitive skin around the base of his painfully erect cock as she masterfully rotated her hips against the stubble around his privates.

“Mmm, fuck,” Seojun husky moan floated right into Tiffany’s ear, a shudder running down from the top of her head all the way to the tips of her toes.

“Master…” The submissive whimper arose from Tiffany as naturally as a whine from a wounded animal. Her hand reached down but was stopped prematurely by Seojun, capturing her wrists with one hand while the other snaked down, finding the hardened nub easily.

“Sing for me, Tiffany,” he whispered into her ear right before pinching it with his thumb and index finger.

And sing Tiffany did. The noises coming out of Tiffany’s mouth grew louder as Seojun’s fingers played with her clit and rubbed the sensitive lips split wide apart by his cock, louder again when he resumed the thrusting motion from before, and louder still when Seojun’s free hand traveled up and began massaging Tiffany’s boobs. Seojun was so absorbed by the pure ecstasy of Tiffany’s soft, curvaceous body reacting so responsively in his hands that his orgasm nearly caught himself by surprise.

“Tiffany, I’m—!” was the only warning Seojun gave before unleashing a torrent of semen straight into the waiting womb of the lewdly moaning demoness.

“Oh-Oh, oh god, Master!” Tiffany’s entire body tensed as she absorbed the generous feast supplied by the succubus’s servant, the seemingly endless stream of the delectable sustenance so overwhelming that it brought her to her own orgasm. “Master, it’s so much, I’m cumming too, oh—Oh, oh god!”

The final word came out as a scream, the arousal in her body overflowing onto Seojun’s cock mid-ejaculation. The warm feeling of her fluid on his sensitive sex organ on top of the feeling of Tiffany’s curvaceous body shaking so intensely against his own seemed to prolong his orgasm, a few additional groans and grunts leaking out of Seojun’s lips, the tugging and massaging motion of the fleshy walls of Tiffany’s relentless pussy milking the last few drops of semen from him.

“Who said you were allowed to orgasm too?”

Seojun felt a chill down his spine at the sheer coldness of Taeyeon’s voice directed at the succubus winding down from her orgasm.

“Babe, it’s fine, I’m glad she enjoyed it,” Seojun said, leaning his head back onto Taeyeon’s shoulder and bringing his hand around to caress her cheek.

Ordinarily, Seojun probably would’ve just gone with the flow and let Taeyeon direct everything; however, while the tension that had built up inside him had unraveled, his lust for Tiffany’s body still remained peaked. Looking back, Seojun would realize just how amazing Tiffany’s Trait was, but in the moment it felt no different than every other time—which only went to show how practiced and matured Tiffany and honed her Trait in her millennia as sex demon.

Feeling Seojun’s warm hand against her face, the size of his hand dwarfing the small size of the dominant succubus’s face, Taeyeon closed her eyes and smiled. “If you say so, honey.”

“Master—”

Tiffany’s eagerness was cut short by Taeyeon, the sternness returning to her voice. “But we’re resting now. You don’t want to make your Master black out again, do you?”

Tiffany frowned, the dejected expression overtaking her face pulling at Seojun’s heartstrings. “No. I’m sorry Mistress…”

“Good girl.” The compliment from the otherwise stoic Taeyeon immediately put a smile back on Tiffany’s face as she unmounted Seojun. “Babe, you can scoot back and rest a bit. The key to taking advantage of Tiffany’s Trait is to occasionally bring yourself back down, since it’s that high level of constant arousal that the mortal mind can’t handle and causes the blackout. Fany, come here.”

The two readily obeyed, Seojun taking his place at the head of the bed while Tiffany joined Taeyeon at the other edge of the king-sized bed. As Tiffany was still shifting into her position, laying down face-up with her eyes directed at the other succubus half-standing and half-kneeling between her legs, Taeyeon started.

“Mistress—oh my god!”

The loud gasp arose from Tiffany, her eyes shooting wide open as Taeyeon pushed four fingers straight into the curvier demoness. “But you still need to be punished for being such a greedy girl,” Taeyeon said, the devilish grin on her face so fitting and so damn sexy. “You want attention? Here, let Mistress give you all the attention you could ever need.”

“Oh my—oh god, fuck!”

The gasps and moans didn’t stop, Tiffany’s chest raising and falling with increasing frequency as Taeyeon continued her attack. One hand went to her clit, her tail transforming into a hand and heading straight for her boobs, massaging them with such strength that Seojun felt concern that she would end up deforming Tiffany’s rack. Fortunately, no such injury occurred, the increasing ferocity of Taeyeon’s punishment causing Tiffany to close her eyes, her fists clenched and her back arched, her legs shaking as Taeyeon’s four fingers relentlessly pounded Tiffany’s hole.

The sight before him was incredible: Taeyeon and Tiffany were both extremely attractive and sexy in their own right, but together, they had amazing visual chemistry. Seeing the determined, confident expression on Taeyeon’s face, watching the smaller succubus dominate the taller one, submissively mewling and moaning, her lewd body responding to her Mistress’s each and every action, both pairs of boobs jiggling beautifully at the increasing pace of Taeyeon’s assault, it was all enough to get Seojun’s previously softening erection raring back in force. He grit his teeth, trying to fight it off and resist the urge to start jacking off to Taeyeon and Tiffany’s steamy sex, not wanting to defeat the purpose of the break he was taking at the moment.

While Tiffany was too preoccupied with Taeyeon’s fingers to notice Seojun’s increasing lust, Taeyeon didn’t let it slip. She smiled to herself, briefly closing one eye for a second before opening it back up.

Seojun flinched, his vision suddenly becoming blurry; his right eye instinctively closed, a second image appearing before him. It was nothing like he had ever experienced: it felt like he was seeing a picture-in-picture except in real life, with the sight of Taeny from his vantage point on one side and a top-down view of Taeyeon’s fingers penetrating her glistening folds and sliding into the damp opening on the other. “Thought you might like this view, babe.”

“Wow … I didn’t know you could do this…”

Taeyeon grinned in reply. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s great—but I thought you usually had to touch the person whose body part you’re copying.”

“Not for my dedicated servant. Fany, it looks like you’re enjoying this too much; this is supposed to be a punishment, remember?”

“I-I’m sorry, Mistress! Mistress’s hands just feel so—oh!”

Seojun flinched again, except this time it was seeing Taeyeon curl her fingers inside Tiffany from Taeyeon’s vantage point.

“I think your Master is almost ready, why don’t you warm him up?”

Understanding the cue, Seojun got up into a kneeling position and presented his erect cock to Tiffany. Her eyes flickered away from Taeyeon and onto the sex organ hovering over her, the look of arousal deepening and her eyes narrowing at the sight. Her hands moved away from her sides and onto the stiff rod, firmly grabbing it while her head moved up so that her mouth could capture one of his testicles.

Seojun hissed as Tiffany’s hands started pumping the hardening shaft, her lips forming a tight seal around one of his balls and her tongue swirling around his scrotum. The double whammy of seeing Tiffany below him suckling on his balls while Taeyeon’s fingers pried the taller succubus’s hole wider and wider was insanely arousing. Seojun could only watch on in awe as Taeyeon managed to first push the joints of her fingers inside Tiffany, followed by her knuckles, and then finally the entire fist.

At that moment, Tiffany let go of Seojun’s testicles, a loud, resonant moan echoing about the bedroom. “Mistress, oh god, it’s so much!”

“Who told you to stop warming Seojun up?”

“I’m sorry!” she yelped in response to Taeyeon’s fierce thrust, pushing her fist as far as she could into the fleshy walls of her vagina, desperately stretching in an attempt to accommodate its guest. Tiffany lifted her head up a bit more, Seojun aiding by lowering himself a bit, so that her lips were level with his veiny cock. Her fingers were unsteady, her body involuntarily shaking from Taeyeon’s merciless fisting, but held Seojun’s manhood steadily enough to cover his shaft with kisses. One hand moved down to caress his balls, the other reaching behind Seojun to secure herself, her long tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft.

A strong surge of arousal sent a shudder down Seojun’s body, another hiss of approval escaping his lips as Tiffany’s mouth captured the first few inches of his cock. Though she was unable to take more in due to the position of her head, the masterful use of her tongue despite the increasing raggedness of breath and increasing tension in her body from another impending orgasm more than compensated for that fact.

“Fuck, Tiffany, that feels so good.”

Keeping his right eye closed, Seojun’s duo sight of seeing Tiffany craning her head to capture as much of his cock as possible and seeing her pussy swallowing the entirety of Taeyeon’s balled-up fist, sprays of her honey flying out with each pull outwards and her body jumping at each thrust back inside aided in his growing lust.

“You’re such a naughty slut, about to cum from getting your punishment.”

The increasing ecstatic sensation inside her heightened to a point that she could no longer sustain keeping Seojun’s cock inside her mouth, her breathing growing so deep that her mounds, although were no longer being massaged by Taeyeon’s tail-turned-hand, jiggled and bounced about nearly just as much. “I-I’m sorry, Mistress, bu-but I can’t help it because Mistress’s hands feels so good inside me!”

“What do you say, honey?” Taeyeon suddenly stopped, her eyes still trained below her, onto her wrist hanging out from Tiffany’s entrance. Tiffany let out a sharp whine, her body squirming and her hips wildly thrusting, attempting to compensate for the sudden pause. “Does this slut deserve to cum?”

“Let her cum, honey, she took her punishment well enough.”

“You’re so soft, babe.” For a brief second, Seojun wondered if Taeyeon was disappointed in her response, but seeing her smile vaporized that thought. “But that’s what I love about you. You better be thankful for your Master.”

Tiffany yelped as Taeyeon resumed her fierce pistoning with rekindled vigor, just barely able to squeak out the words, “Th-Thank you, Master!” before letting out a high-pitched, drawn out, beautiful note of ecstasy as her body succumbed to pleasure, her body shaking violently as her orgasm overtook her body.

Taeyeon aided Tiffany in riding out the orgasm, Seojun drinking in both the stunning visual of the breathtakingly beautiful and sexy Taeyeon kneeling between the legs of the extremely attractive and alluring Tiffany and the top-down view of Taeyeon’s fist disappearing again and again into the abyss of Tiffany’s pussy as streams of her viscous liquid leaked out of their connection and onto the soft material below them. Seojun pulled back, watching on as Tiffany’s orgasm died down, ending with a final shudder when Taeyeon extracted her hand from its wet, warm confines.

Tiffany laid on the bed for a few seconds in the afterglow of her climax, her chest still heaving from the intensity of the orgasm. After restoring Seojun’s vision back to normal, Taeyeon beckoned Seojun over. He proceeded to essentially exchange places with Tiffany, who scooted further up the bed to make room for him.

“You wanted more attention from your Master, did you?”

Those words sparked Tiffany’s interest, who lifted her head. Seojun couldn’t resist the urge to smile at the sight of the adorable excitement clearly visible on Tiffany’s face, the enthusiasm akin to a restless puppy hearing the word ‘outside’ or ‘play’. She nodded vigorously, earning a sly smirk from Taeyeon.

“Turn around, on your hands and knees,” Taeyeon told her, then whispering into Seojun’s ear, “Make sure you, yourself, are ready, babe.”

A shiver crawled all the way up Seojun’s body at hearing Taeyeon’s honey-sweet voice breathing the pet name into his ear. His face took on a red hue, his heartbeat revving up to already dangerously high levels—Taeyeon, sensing this, could only giggle to herself. “O-Of course,” Seojun found himself stuttering, biting back another moan at the feeling of Taeyeon’s ample bosom pressing against his back.

Taeyeon’s hands reached down and wrapped around his shaft as Tiffany turned around and presented her perfectly shaped bubble butt to her Master. “Like this?” Tiffany asked, her neck craning backwards to make eye contact with her Mistress.

“Take a look at that. Doesn’t our Fany have such a sexy butt?” Taeyeon’s hand reached about Seojun and landed on the supple flesh on her rear, Tiffany yelping in response.

“She sure does,” Seojun said in agreement, his hand joining Taeyeon’s almost subconsciously, feeling up the soft skin beneath his palms.

“Master … Mistress…” Tiffany whimpered, her eyes already showing clear signs of aphrodisia.

“It’s so nice and round, and her skin is so taught and white … doesn’t it just make you want to violate it?”

The harsh words coming from Taeyeon’s contrastingly relaxing voice caused a spike in his levels of arousal. “It does,” Seojun agreed once more. Tiffany’s whimpers increased in volume, her legs beginning to shake and slivers of precum starting to dribble out of the succubus already turned on beyond belief.

“Master, please…”

Although Seojun had no problems with Tiffany being mostly in control in their night-long sex session, hearing Tiffany make such submissive noises was just as tantalizing. Accompanying the subservient whimper was a surge of power and control that Seojun felt only one other time with Taeyeon and with Yeoreum, so convincing that Seojun completely forgot that Tiffany was supposedly putting up an act.

“Face forward, and no looking back.” Tiffany reluctantly obeyed, planting her face on the pillow, mewling and whimpering as the pair continued to enjoy the soft firmness of her bottom. “Carefully, OK?” Taeyeon whispered to Seojun.

Before he could ask what she meant, he felt the distantly familiar sensation of the fingers on his left hand melding together, looking to confirm that Taeyeon had used her Trait to copy his penis onto his hand.

So this is what she meant.

“You want this?” Seojun teased, brushing the tip of his cock against her labia, her plump cheeks spread apart with the help of Taeyeon.

“Yes! Please, Master!” Her body shook along with her voice from pure need, her hips pushing back, gyrating against the length of his cock pressed against her wet slit.

“You’re such a needy slut, aren’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry, but I can’t help it because Master’s fucks me so well and Master’s cum feels too good inside me!”

“Inside where? Your pussy,” Seojun said, teasing the entrance to her vagina, “or your ass?” He pulled away, using the cock on his hand to tease the puckered hole above.

“Inside … I-Inside … I’m sorry Master, I can’t decide, Master’s cock feels amazing in both!”

“If you can’t decide, then I’ll just use both!” At the last word, without warning, Seojun promptly shoved both cocks into their respective holes.

“Ah, Master! Oh god, FUCK!”

Tiffany’s ecstatic scream resonated inside Seojun’s eardrums, himself grimacing at the combined feeling of her sphincter muscles squeezing his cock so tightly as well as her hot, wet walls hugging the circumference of his dick, massaging and tugging on it, as if trying to pull him further in. Seojun obliged, his right hand tightly gripping her waist as he pushed both penises into each of the tight holes until he had completely sheathed them inside her.

“Fuck, Tiffany…” Seojun groaned, pulling his dick out of Tiffany’s pussy until barely a centimeter was left inside, his arm pushing the other penis hard against her cervix to serve as a counter-balance, before firmly shoving his entire length back in. Tiffany let out another sharp moan, her back arching at the influx of ecstasy. “Is Master giving you enough attention now?”

“Yes—ah!” Tiffany’s response was cut off when Seojun alternated, extracting his dick from her ass while firmly pushing the original against the back of her vagina. “I-I love Master’s cocks inside me!”

“You’re such a dirty little whore for enjoying the feeling of your Master’s dick in both of your slutty holes, aren’t you?” Taeyeon egged her on, herself growing wet at the sight of her best friend’s vagina and backdoor being simultaneously penetrated by her servant.

“Yes! I’m Master’s little cumslut! I love feeling Master’s cock ravage both of my slutty holes!”

It took some getting used to, securing himself with only one hand, but Taeyeon being pressed up so firmly behind him helped. He soon got into the rhythm of alternating thrusts between his left arm and his hips, and when he did, Tiffany became not much more than a mewling, moaning mess.

The two were so preoccupied with each other that they didn’t even notice Taeyeon preparing in the background, snaking her tail around to Tiffany’s front while picking up Tiffany’s arms and placing them on her own forearm. It wasn’t until both of Taeyeon’s hands as well as her tail transformed into more copies of Seojun’s penis that Seojun noticed Taeyeon was doing something, and it wasn’t until Tiffany felt the soft tip of Seojun’s otherwise rock-hard dick that she noticed something.

“I noticed you still have a hole left unfilled, why don’t I fill that for you?”

“Oh! Thank you so much, Mistress!” Tiffany jumped at the opportunity to fill her mouth with the same cock that was stretching her pussy and asshole at the same time, planting a few kisses on the sensitive tip and dribbling on some saliva before attacking the stiff rod with her mouth.

Seojun swore loudly, another surge of pleasure expanding inside his body at the feeling of the third warm, tight cavern suffocating his cock.

“Do you like that, babe?” Taeyeon whispered into his ear, sensually rubbing her breasts against his back. In most cases, the feeling of her hardened nipples drawing random lines on his skin would drive him crazy, but his mind was already so preoccupied with pleasure from all three of Tiffany’s holes that he barely registered it.

“Yes, fuck, Tiffany feels so good on my cock.”

Tiffany let out a muffled noise of joy, the words of encouragement pushing her to become more aggressive with the cock wedged deep down her throat. In addition to the satisfying, crisp sound of Tiffany’s voluptuous ass slapping against his groin, another sound soon joined the cacophony of sex sounds: the wet gargling and slurping noises, and occasional gagging noises, of Tiffany’s mouth as she deepthroated his painfully hard erection.

“How about we add more?”

“What? More?”

Instead of answering with words, Taeyeon elected to answer with her actions, turning both of her hands into yet more copies of Seojun’s penis. “Get your hands working, Fany.”

Understanding the prompt, Tiffany shifted her hands down and, to her delight, found yet another pair of her favorite phallic object against her palms. She immediately got to work, her thumb caressing the swollen tip of his dick while the rest of her fingers wrapped firmly around the shaft, her soft palm flush against its veiny surface, and pumped.

At that point, Seojun’s mind was so overwhelmed with pleasure that he completely lost the ability to think. His hips and left hand continuously pounded Tiffany from the back, Tiffany herself helping by matching his increasingly wild rhythm, his upper body slumped against the marshmallow-y skin of Tiffany’s back, his right hand reaching around and groping her tits with the same force at which her body shook with absolute, sheer ecstasy.

Tiffany herself was starting to become overwhelmed; multi-tasking as she was currently doing wasn’t the issue, as she enjoyed the occasional gangbang on more than one, perhaps even more than a hundred, occasions, but it was the sheer excitement from the impending orgasm Tiffany could feel Seojun rapidly approaching.

Although Seojun could feel a tension in his nether regions, he could barely register it: the hot walls of Tiffany’s pussy convulsing around his hardened shaft, the tight grip her sphincter muscles had on the base of his dick, the continual spray of fluid from both her pussy and her mouth onto his shaft as they relentlessly pounded her, the tension of her throat as his dick traversed deep inside her mouth, and the softness of her fingers and palms juxtaposing the harsh jerking motion of her hands, rubbing along the entire length of his shaft as if coaxing out his seed.

“This is where you belong, getting fucked in all of your holes by your Master’s cock, using your two free hands to pleasure two more of them. Are you getting enough of your Master’s attention now?”

“Mmm!” Tiffany’s response was muffled by the cock occupying her oral orifice, completely lost in a sea of pleasure. It became a viscous feedback loop: Seojun’s movements would make Tiffany hornier, which would make her movements wilder, which in turn increased Seojun’s arousal and would cause him to become wilder.

“You want to feel your Master’s cum pouring down your throat and directly into your slutty pussy and asshole?”

“Mmm!”

“You want to feel your body coated in a layer of your Master’s thick semen?”

“Mmm!”

“Fuck, Tiff—!” was Seojun only warning before the tension in his lower abdominal area unraveled all at once.

Every single penis exploded simultaneously, the influx of the delicious sustenance into Tiffany’s body throwing her body into a state of overdrive. The entire room filled with the high-pitched noise of her scream as her pussy, her ass, and her throat was filled with wave after wave of semen, the additional dicks shooting the viscous fluid at first onto her back and sides, then transitioning to her neck, clavicle, and tits. Her mind was filled with nothing but sex and the immaculate taste of Seojun’s semen, not even noticing that they had shifted her onto Seojun’s lap so that she could more easily ride out her own orgasm.

“Master, oh god, Master…” her mouth, now unplugged by the cock still lodged inside her vagina and butt, rambled incoherently, the waves of ecstasy rolling inside her body long after Seojun’s orgasm calmed down. “Master’s semen is so good, I can’t—oh, oh god, Master!”

Another squeal and another orgasm directly following the previous as her body continued to process the high-quality semen, her body shaking violently against Seojun’s as the second orgasm wracked her body. It wasn’t until a full minute passed that Tiffany’s orgasm had finally completely subsided, by which all body parts that had transformed into Seojun’s cock were reverted to their original state.

At this point, Seojun was starting to feel the onset of exhaustion, but the warm walls of Tiffany’s pussy massaging his cock, tugging and pulling on it as if requesting another round, fought it off well.

“Wow, fuck, that was so intense,” Tiffany said, taking a moment to catch her breath, lazily leaning against Seojun’s chest and scooping the viscous bodily fluid off her breasts, neckline, and sides into her mouth. “I can’t remember the last time I had consecutive orgasms like that.”

“Right?! Isn’t he worth your life-long pact of never designating a Servant?”

Tiffany giggled. “What do you mean ‘pact’?” Hearing the beautiful noise was immensely pleasing to Seojun’s ears, perhaps equally as pleasing as her screams of ecstasy—although in a completely different manner. “It’s just that, I didn’t want to give up the freedom to have a diverse taste of semen from all sorts of men, but…”

“Hm? But what?”

“Well, the taste of ‘Master’s’ cum never bored me, which has never happened before after spending an entire night feasting on it.”

“Y-You don’t have to call me that anymore.”

Hearing Seojun’s innocent stammer elicited another beautiful giggle from the succubus whose pussy was still straddling his cock. “Why not?” she said playfully, teasing the erect shaft by grinding a bit against his groin. Seojun furrowed his eyebrows, a groan arising from him at the unexpected movement.

“I don’t know, Tiffany; it just feels weird, somehow…”

“Oh, and you don’t have to use honorifics with me like with Taeyeon,” Tiffany said, getting up and unplugging the last remaining hole. She turned around and sat on the bed, facing them, Taeyeon resting her arms on Seojun’s lap and her head on his shoulder. Seojun could feel his face turn bright pink at the intimate actions of what was supposed to be his actual Mistress, but doing his best to look Tiffany in the eye nonetheless.

“OK, Ti—Tiffany.”

Said succubus smiled, her eyes disappearing into thick, black, upside-down crescent moons. Seojun felt his heart skipping another few beats. Thank god his body had already been modified, or else he might’ve had a heart attack and died right then and there. “Much better! I think I decided, I’m going to make you my Servant too.”

Although it was Taeyeon who was pressing Tiffany to do so, it was her jaw that dropped the most. “Wait, really?”

“What? You were the one who told me to!”

“Is there no, um, restriction for being a Servant to multiple succubae?”

Taeyeon pondered the question. “Hmm, not to my knowledge. Tastes tend to vary wildly between succubae, so there aren’t usually many cases where two will want the same man as her Servant. I heard that there are diminishing returns on the physical benefits of being designated Servant of multiple succubae though; your physical body won’t improve as drastically as it did the first time, but your lifespan still increases by some amount, but not by as much. Maybe a couple hundred years.”

“Should we get started now?”

“Wait, Tiffany; how much do you know about the ritual?��

Tiffany huffed indignantly. “I can do it, you know. I did have a Servant in the past in my earlier days, but he didn’t last long.”

Taeyeon sighed. “Well, the ritual is all about attuning your bodies and life forces to each other, as well as implementing any physical modifications to the Servant. For a normal human, becoming a Servant isn’t an issue because their life force is untouched and therefore extremely malleable; however, with Seojun, it has already been attuned to mine, which will make it harder to also become attuned to yours.”

Tiffany’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion—but however confused Tiffany was, Seojun was even more so. ‘Life force’? ‘Attunement’? Maybe he should’ve asked more about it that one time Taeyeon mentioned it. “What? How?”

“Attuning two life forces is a process that involves adjusting and changing bits of Seojun’s life force to weave together with mine. That’s why attuning to someone else would be harder.” When Tiffany remained silent, no less confused, Taeyeon continued, “Imagine each of our life forces as a bundle of strings. One of the things the Servant ritual does is to tie these strings together; now, if Seojun wants to attune to you, he’ll have to untie some of those strings attached to me before he can tie some of his strings with you.”

“Oh, I see…”

“This process of untying the strings can have some serious strain on a human body, not even mentioning how Seojun’s body might physically alter again during the ritual. So, just in case, what we’ll have to do is train up your physical body. Luckily, I’m still your personal trainer, so I can give you all the private sessions you need.”

Hearing those words increased the intensity of his flush, while simultaneously hardening his growing erection.

Taeyeon, noticing this, grinned. “So, are you ready for another round?”

216 notes · View notes

pinchofhoney · 11 months

Note

Hi, could you write something for Coryo x reader were the reader is close if not equally as evil in the end. How would that relationship work? idk just a thought I had use it if you wish

crack in the mirror

coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 1.8k

warning: i think none

summary: Many cling to the belief of their own goodness, until they meet someone who's just like them.

a/n: hii, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you'll enjoy what i've written for you!<33

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @watercolorskyy

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

How did it all begin?

With the 10th Hunger Games, where your academic excellence earned you the role of mentor to one of the tributes.

It was a time of innocence and youthful ambition, back when your paths met within the shadowy corridors of the Capitol's Academy. You and Coriolanus were close friends, unstained by the cruelty that life had in store for you and you pretty often looked back on those days, memories of laughter, shared dreams, and an unwavering friendship etched in your mind.

The two of you were bound by a shared ambition, shining among the brightest stars, each destined for greatness in the eyes of those who believed in you. The world was your playground, and you were determined to conquer it. Little did you know how that fateful year, with its trials and tribulations, would set the course of your life on a much darker path.

As the mentor to Treech from District 7, you hadn't yet embraced the darkness that would soon consume you. Back then, you were as eager as your colleagues, hoping to prove your worth, do your best, and guide your tribute to victory. It was pretty cruel twist of fate that Lucy Gray Baird, with her haunting charm and cunning nature, would change the course of everything.

In the heart of those unforgettable 10th Hunger Games, within the unforgiving arena, your dreams and aspirations slowly began to twist and corrode. Ambition transformed into ruthless manipulation, friendship into subtle deception, and innocence into a devouring thirst for power. The venomous snake mutt that took Treech's life before your very eyes became a symbol of the ruthless transformation that was gradually overtaking you.

That year marked the beginning of your involvement in the Games and the emergence of a darkness that would one day reflect the very core of President Snow himself. The metropolis watched, captivated by the spectacle of the tributes battling for their lives, while behind the scenes, a bitter change took root.

As you stood alongside the other students in the viewing room, preoccupied with the tributes, a chill ran down your spine. You didn't yet grasped the feeling, but something fundamental had shifted within you. You couldn't shake the realization that in the Capitol, victory meant survival, and survival allowed for anything. Lucy Gray's actions, no matter how brutal, were merely a reflection of the society to which you belonged.

Coriolanus tried to hold onto the purity of your friendship, to keep the darkness at bay, but you were the values he progressively ignored. Ambition has a way of distorting even the best intentions, and the path you had chosen was covered in shadows and secrecy.

As the Games progressed, the transformation hastened. The bonds you had formed with others became instruments of manipulation, and you enjoyed your newfound ability to bend their will to your desires.

The suffering of each tribute, each extinguished life, stoked the icy flames of ambition within you. You clutched to the logic that to climb up the Capitol's hierarchy, you had to be willing to destroy all who stood in the way. Your heart grew cold, your smile more deceitful, and your soul darkened, much like the future President of Panem that Coriolanus didn't yet realize he would become.

The Games ended with Treech taking the third place, a result you considered an absolute failure. It served as the catalyst for your final descent into the abyss. You had only tasted a little bit of success, and you hungered for more. The purity of your friendship with Coriolanus had been definitely tarnished, and the darkness that enveloped you continued.

The 10th Hunger Games and the Gamemakers marked not just the beginning of a change within you, but also foreshadowed the dark days to come.

You and Coriolanus would be leaders of a world where cruelty and manipulation held authority.

You had come a long way since those innocent days at the Academy, where laughter and shared dreams were the currency of friendship. As the Head Gamemaker, you wielded power over life and death, orchestrating the annual Hunger Games spectacle that captivated the Capitol.

Your importance in the Capitol was undeniable, but the bonds of friendship that once connected you to young Snow had weakened, stretched to their limits, and threatened to break. Since your graduation from the Academy, the warmth of your interactions had been replaced by a chilling formality. The echoes of your former closeness had grown faint, drowned out by the sounds of the ruthless Games you helped design.

Coriolanus, still crawling in his presidency, remained in your life as a hint of your teenage years and shared mentorship past. He was both intrigued and disturbed by the ideas you injected into the Games each year, but he never consciously acknowledged the rot that had taken root within him as well.

As the Head Gamemaker, you reveled in the dark art of power, where tributes became pawns and suffering was blend into the very fabric of the arena. Your ambitions had propelled you to the highest echelons of Capitol society, but the biggest cost had been the destruction of the humanity that once defined you.

Determined, you made your way to the meeting room, eager to introduce Coriolanus to your plan for the 23rd Hunger Games.

He was already there, wearing an expression that mixed curiosity with apprehension. You greeted him with a cool nod, fully aware of how your interactions had grown more formal over the years.

“Coryo,” you began, saying the familiar diminutive you'd used back at the Academy. The warmth of that old friendship may have cooled, but the nickname had grown in you, a habit you couldn't shake when you were alone with him. “I've prepared something truly phenomenal for this year's Games. Something that will cause goosebumps on the skin of every viewer, let alone the tributes in the arena,” you said, locking your gaze with your old friend with a mysterious smirk on your lips.

In response, Coriolanus leaned in with growing curiosity. “Please, continue,” he urged, which only caused a wider smile on your face.

You gestured toward a holographic projection on the wall, revealing a sinister, genetically created creature. Its elongated limbs, razor-sharp claws, and grotesque, misshapen features created a nightmarish creation.

“This,” you declared, “is the Umbra Noctis. It's a creature designed to terrify and torture the tributes in ways they could never have imagined. With its ability to blend into the shadows, it will stalk them relentlessly, striking fear into their hearts.”

Coriolanus observed the creature, a mixture of fascination and consternation in his eyes, narrowing the gap between you. “But how does it differ from the mutts we've used before?”

You leaned in, your voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “It carries a venom that induces hallucinations, distorting reality for its victims. The terror it inflicts will be as much psychological as it is physical.”

As you detailed your plan, the room seemed to grow colder, and the weight of your shared darkness pressed on Coriolanus. You described the various mutants and horrors destined for the arena, all designed to heighten the tributes' fear and despair.

“I want the 23rd Hunger Games to be remembered as the most nightmarish ever,” you declared. “A spectacle that reveals the true depths of human darkness, concealed behind the Capitol's glittering facade.”

As the weight of your words settled in the room, Coriolanus’ initial curiosity gave way to a growing skepticism. He couldn't help but question the depths of darkness you were willing to immerse.

“Isn't this,” Coriolanus began, his voice cautious, “perhaps too much, even for the Hunger Games? We want to entertain, to captivate the audience, not to... terrify to the point of despair.”

You turned to him, your gaze firm, and for a moment, the professional mask slipped, revealing the abyss beneath. “Coryo, don't you see? The Capitol's fascination with the Games is not just about entertainment. It's about the harsh reality that we, as a society, have become as ruthless and depraved as the Games themselves. We are a reflection of the horrors we create.”

Coriolanus eyed you, his features a blend of recognition and disquiet. Your words had hit the spot, reminding him that he, too, played a role in Panem's transformation as its president.

You continued, your voice now nearly a whisper, “The darkness, Coryo, is not just within the arena but within us. The Games merely show what has always been there. It's a reflection of who we've become, and it's time we faced that truth.”

For a brief moment, Coriolanus seemed to confront his own rottenness, an unsettling truth that had long been concealed in the shadows of his conscience and the room fell silent.

With measured steps, you circled around Coriolanus, stopping in front of him. You met his calm gaze, finding in it the shadow of chaos, reflecting his soul.

Your eyes wandered over his attire, and with a calculated, gentle touch, you adjusted the rose on his chest before gracing him with a faint smile.

“Look at you,” you began, taking a step back, creating a clear distance between you. “Remember when you used to fear Dr. Gaul? And now, what have you become?” your next question followed swiftly, with no pause for his response.

“You're the man who sends innocent kids to their deaths every year, a cruel reminder to the districts of who hold the power, who is in control. And I? I'm just one of the instruments in your hands.”

Your words hung in the air, and as Coriolanus opened his mouth to respond, you silenced him with an unspoken urgency. “You might tell yourself that you can sleep soundly, shifting the responsibility onto me and my team, washing your hands clean of the blood. But deep down, you know it's a lie, don't you?”

Coriolanus met your gaze, a blend of defiance and self-denial in his eyes. He had always been skilled at pushing the truth aside, shielding himself from the reality he had become.

“You're mistaken,” he finally said, his voice tensed. “I have a duty to maintain order, to ensure the Capitol's dominance. The Games are a means to an end, a necessary evil.”

Your expression remained unwavering as you countered, “But do you truly believe that, Coryo? Do you truly believe it's as simple as maintaining order? The depths of cruelty we've reached, the horrors we've unleashed, they go beyond mere necessity.”

He opened his mouth to respond, to argue his case further, but a hint of doubt flickered in his eyes, betraying the internal struggle within. The truth you had spoken, the darkness he had tried to repress, clawed at the edges of his conscience.

“That's what I thought,” you said with a note of satisfaction in your eyes, and resumed presenting your plan as if nothing had happened, not paying attention to Coriolanus' confusion. However, the shift in the room's atmosphere was palpable, and the unspoken tension lingered.

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fate-magical-girls · 4 months

Text

The Varieties of Chinese Mermaids

In the modern day, most people will think of the pearl-crying Jiaoren. However JIAOREN IS NOT THE PERFECT EQUIVALENT OF THE MERMAID in pre-modern folklore.

Chinese mermaids come in multiple types. Most of them can be found in the Chronicle of the Mountains and the Seas (Shan Hai Jing/山海經). Others can be found in the In Search of the Supernatural (Sou Shen Ji/搜神記) or Extensive Records of the Taiping Era (Taiping Guangji/太平廣記).

YUFU/MER-WIFE (魚婦): Zhuanxu was a god-emperor in legendary times, whose accomplishments included sending two of his sons to complete the separation of Heaven and Earth. When he died, fish ate his corpse, becoming half fish and half human women. They live in the Great Wilderness toward the west of China. They combine traits of humans, fish, and snakes. The Classic of Mountains and the Seas states: "There is a fish half-withered, it is Zhuanxu that died and then revived; when the winds blow northward, the sky whips up great geysers, snakes transform into fish, and those are mer-wives."

LINGYU/HILL FISH (陵魚，鯪魚): The Lingyu lived in the northern regions of China, either in the sea or mountain streams. They have human faces and limbs, but fish bodies. They are identified with Chinese giant salamanders or mud carp in the modern day. The Classic of Mountains and Seas states: "The nation of Guye is in the sea, among the Guye mountain range, surrounded by peaks to the southwest. There are great crabs are in the sea. There are Lingyu, which have human heads, feet, and hands, in the sea."

CHIRU/RED RU FISH (赤鱬): The Chiru lived in mountain in the south of China. It was red all over, had a human face, and its call sounded like that of a shelduck or mandarin duck. Eating its flesh protected people from contracting scabies. They are identified with sockeye salmon in the modern day. The Classic of Mountains and Seas states: "Three hundred miles more to the east, there is the mountain called Blue Hill...The Ying Waters emerge from here. Within are many Chiru; their forms are like fish, yet they have human faces, and their cries are like that of a shelduck. Those that eat its flesh will never have scabies."

DIREN/DI PEOPLE (氐人): The nation of the Di People was in the South of China. They were human from the waist up and fish from the waist down. They might have been a mythologization of the real Di People, who lived in western China, spread out from Shaanxi to Gansu. They joined the confederation of nomadic peoples who conquered Northern China during the Sixteen Kingdoms period. The Baima people of Gansu believe themselves to be descended from the ancient Di. The Classic of the Mountains and Seas states: "The nation of the Di People is west of the Jianmu Tree. Its inhabitants have human faces but fish bodies, with no feet."

HAI RENYU/SEA MERMAID (海人魚): The Sea Mermaid lives in the East China Sea. They tend to be around five to six shaku tall. (4'7"-5'6" or 1.4-1.68 meters.) Their upper bodies were that of humans, and they were all very beautiful. Their skins were white as jade, and their tails had no scales, but were covered in fine rainbow-colored hairs. Their hair grew long and wild like horse manes. Their private organs were much like that of humans, and they often sought humans or were sought by humans as mates in coastal communities, where they would live in a pool on their spouse's property. Sometimes they had red feelers or fins on their elbows and backs. Their bodies could not be penetrated by blades, but their fats could be harvested after death to form ever-burning candles. Han Dynasty texts state: "Merfolk have a human-like form longer than one shaku. They are not fit for consumption. Their skins are rougher than those of sharks, and cannot be penetrated by saws. They have little holes on their neck that they breathe through...Their fat is used to light lamps in royal tombs because the fire will never extinguish." Extensive Records of the Taiping Era states: "Sea Mermaids are found in the Eastern Sea. The largest ones are five or six shaku long. They are shaped like humans, with the brows and eyes, mouths and noses, hands and fingers, and heads of beautiful women, lacking in no feature. Their flesh is white as jade, and they have no scales, but thin, soft, and sleek hairs of five colors about one or two inches in length. Their private organs were no different from those of ordinary men and women. Widows and widowers from coastal communities often acquire them and raise them in pools. They mate the same way humans do, and never harm humans."

LOTING YUREN/LOTING FISH-MEN (盧亭魚人): Loting Fish-Men were found in the south of China, mostly around the Guangdong, Macau, and Hong Kong regions. They had humanoid limbs and humanoid faces with yellow hair and yellow eyes, but scaly bodies with fish tails. They lived mostly in the water, feeding on fish, but also built houses from mussel shells, and their favorite snack was chicken blood. They were a mythologization of the Tanka People, a southern Chinese pariah class who were once forced to live on their boats, as well as the Semang People. Ming Dynasty texts state: "The Jin Dynasty rebel Lu Ting was defeated and fled into the Guangdong region, where he lived a fugitive life on the water. After some generations, his descendants were unable to procure food or clothes, so they went about bare bodied and were called Loting. They would often sail out on the sea fishing for food, and they could all lie underwater for three or four days without dying, for they had already become fish." Qing Dynasty texts state: "Among the merfolk are the Loting Fish-Men, who are very numerous on Dayushan Island and the Wanshan Islands. Their adults are like humans, with male and female. Their hairs are dusky yellow and short and their eyes are also yellow, while their faces are black. Their tails are around an inch long. When they encounter humans they dive fearfully into the water. Often they would float along the waves, which would amaze people, who would they chase them. When a man who acquired one their females did the dirty with her, the fish-woman could not speak, only giggle. After a long while, she learned to wear clothes and eat grains. She was brought to Dayushan, where she went back to the water. These are the merfolk who do not harm men."

JIAOREN/SAMEBITO/SHARK-MEN (鮫人): Jiaoren are found in the South Seas. THEY ARE MER-SHARKS. THEY HAVE INKY BLACK BODIES, WILD HAIR, GLOWING GREEN EYES, AND SHARP TEETH. They are usually employed by dragon gods as weavers, capable of working tirelessly and spinning special waterproof silks. Their tears became pearls. They were first equated to Western mermaids by modern fantasy writers romanticizing the fact that they cried pearls.

WA WA YU/KIDDO FISH (娃娃魚): The Chinese Giant Salamander was often called a "mer-person" in the Ming and Qing dynasties, and described having a cry that resembled a baby's wail. To this day the colloquial name is still "Kiddo Fish".

#mermaid #mermay #mythology #chinese mythology #jiaoren #folklore #china

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book-place · 1 year

Text

Fears and Facing Them

Warnings: none (I think), let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Ineffable Husbands x daughter reader

Request: Crowley x Aziraphale x child reader (6 years old maybe), who caught Crowley in snake form and got scared because they have Ophidiophobia but after being comforted by Aziraphale, the child accepts it and actually likes to play with Crowley (crowley thinks the child is annoying but still loves the child) while he's in his snake form

Request by: @popfishjr

*not my gif*

Summary: You felt better about conquering your fear knowing it was just your father

A/N: Not proof read- I’m in a rush so I’ll do it later :)

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

You hummed an off tune melody to yourself quietly as you stacked legos together from where you lay, sprawled out on your living room floor.

Your fathers were both upstairs, to your knowledge, but you were fine with that. Contempt in your own little world of play.

That was, until a small hissing sound rang out and reached your ears, so faint that you almost couldn’t hear it as you placed another lego piece together with another.

With that, you paused, head turning from side to side in confusion as you tried to locate the source of the noise. When you came up empty handed though, you simply shrugged and went back to your building blocks as if nothing had happened.

When the hiss sounded again though, you could no longer ignore it, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Quickly, you dropped your toys and rose to your feet, eyes narrowed as they scanned the room for any sign of where the noise was coming from.

That’s when your eyes landed on it- or him.

Crowley didn’t know what he was doing to be completely honest, he knew that you had a fear of snakes- or Ophidiophobia, as Aziraphel kept reminding him. But he hadn’t thought anything of it when he transformed into his reptile form, if not to simply have the feel of it again. He had thought you were in your room however, or he probably never would have done it.

As soon as your eyes latched onto your- unknown to you- father, you let out a horrible shriek and quickly scampered up onto the nearby couch, trying to put as much distance between you and the snake as possible.

Crowley paused, confusion overtaking his senses as he momentarily forgot about your fear for the animal, and just sat there, staring up at you.

There was a clatter behind him as Aziraphel rushed down the stairs in order to see what was going on.

“What ever is the matter, young one?” Your father asked, striding over and scooping you up into his warm hold.

“Snake, papa!” You cried, “Snake!”

The angels eyes drifted over to his husband for the first time since entering the room and the reality of the situation seemed to click in both of their heads at the same time.

Right away, Crowley transformed back, not wanting to frighten you more than he already had, watching as your eyes went wide.

“Hush, it’s alright, darling. There, there.” Aziraphel soothed, throwing Crowley an extremely rare harsh look as he rubbed up and down your back.

“D-dad?” You hiccuped, looking at the demon with wide eyes.

He hesitated before nodding, “Yes, it’s me, child.”

“W-why were you a-a sn-snake?” You stuttered out, resting your cheek against Aziraphels shoulder.

“It’s- that’s just something I can do.” He admitted, sounding meek for the first time in a long while.

“You’re just the snake?” You asked softly, “It’s not a scary monster?”

Crowley felt as if his heart melted when you unknowingly admitted that you didn’t think he was a scary monster- unlike the rest of the world.

A silence settled over your little family before you spoke up again, small bursts of confidence seeping into your question, “Can you turn back into a snake?”

Your father hesitated, looking to his husband, only to not be offered an answer. But after a moment, he did what you asked.

Instead of shrieking and cowering away like he had expected you to, you just stood there for a few seconds, blinking down at him, before slowly peeling yourself from your fathers hold and approaching the other one in snake form.

Then, without any sign of fear or hesitation, you reached over and patted the top of his head, “Hi, daddy.” You giggled.

It might have been hard to see, but snake-Crowley grinned oh so very bright in that moment.

Ineffable Husbands 😇- @popfishjr @etanordoesbullsh1t

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yourangle-yuordevil · 3 months

Note

What did Crowley do to piss of Athena

Questioned her too much, in full Crowley style x°D

During the Great Battle, he was given a prophecy from her. He should have killed the brother of Gabriel, the general who tried to invade Athens. Instead of obeying blindly, Crowley asked her questions about this guy who he had to kill and what he did to deserve it. Athena told him that he did nothing to deserve it, he was a lover of arts and theater, but so the prophecy foretold and must be done. When Crowley refused he was cursed by her. Since he didn't stand up to defend her city, then he wouldn't be able to ever stand up for himself. She turned him into a snake and made him lose all the memories before that moment, so his first memory would only be the ones in snake form.

The transformation wasn't permanent, tho. Crowley transformed back into a human in the middle of the battle when the Athenian army was being slaughtered. He don't know who he is, where he is, he's not even sure IF he's a human or a snake; he's confused and scared. When he instinctively grabs a sword to protect himself and parry a blow from an enemy his arm immediately gets covered with snake scales so he drops the sword in panic and flees.

With time, he understands that he's cursed to turn into a snake every time that he tries to use violence. If he does so too much he'll turn into a snake again, and each time for a longer period. He's scared as shit that one day he'll not be able to turn into a human again, so he try to avoids combats as much as he can, relying instead on his wits to survive. Basically cursed to forever follow the way of Athena, if he want to stay alive.

#good omens #crowley #The Snake of Ithaca #ancient greek au #look at this tiny pathetic snake we love him so much he needs all the hugs in the world #also this was literally the ONLY question that we were not prepared to answer xD #We've been thinking about this plot point for weeks then this asked dropped and we were like OK. THIS IS THE DAY. BRAIN POWER ACTIVATED #We had a general idea but not all the full details before #and we are so happy that we do now #so thanks for the ask!!#magnificentwitchlady #au ask

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soulc-hilde · 3 months

Text

You’re my Favorite

Pairing: Eminem x afab!reader

Warning: Implied smut, mentions of sexual intercourse, cursing, body shaming, fatphobia

Synopsis: Caught in the chaos of ’06, Marshall falls into bed with one of the most influential actresses of the decade. Despite his desire to let her in and know who Marshall Mathers is outside of the bedroom, his insecurities always seem. Chasing away the love of his life, eighteen years of loneliness darkens his soul until he makes a slip up in an interview.

Based off of this request – speaking of, if you wish to request work from writers (free work, at that) please do not move to another writer and make the same request unless the first writer denies you or completely ignores you. It’s a form of respect, a lot of us writers are adults with working lives, especially in America’s economy. Unfortunately, things are not going to be done in that second. If this happens again, I will simply deny the request and/or close my inbox and strictly do fanfic series. Please, respect your writers.

He silently watches her, nestled into his side, head resting on his chest with arms wrapped around his waist. She was beautiful. So, unconventionally beautiful which was a surprise as not many highly rated actresses such as herself were permitted such grace to keep their natural features.

As her eyes lock onto the action-packed scenes of Snakes on a Plane – a quick joke he made knowing that the poor woman hated seeing herself on camera, her palm absently rubs at his stomach.

His heart thumps, nearly dropping to his ass. Since the death of Deshaun, Marshall had took to the shadows, hiding away surrounded by food and drugs. The only thing that kept the rapper from facing malnourishment was his drug-infused munchies; however, there was a downfall to this.

The once lean man transformed into a round, depressed version of who he once was. His face was constantly flushed and blank.He was the epitome of heartache. Although, his new weight gain didn’t really put off the groupies.

There were some who chased after him just because of his wealth and others who did it as a joke, snorting to their friends whether ‘Fatty Shady’ was better than ��Slim Shady.’ He wasn’t fazed at first, not at all; bitches will be bitches, he’d mutter to himself.

That was until he was to meet her at a restaurant for some quick lunch before heading back to his place. Arriving first, the Detroit native settled in the back of the dining floor in a booth, looking over the menu when a few waiters – just teenagers, kept pacing around his table with their indiscreet attempts at trying to confirm if he was the man in their heads.

One had raced back to the kitchen, shouting, “dude, Eminem’s here. Right now, he’s here in that last booth.”

The others lean out, eyes darting with excitement only to drop at the sight of the slumped over fat man in the booth.

“Man,” one of them scoffs, “that’s not Eminem. That’s just a fat man who looks like ‘em. Slim Shady’s skinny.”

Returning to their jobs, Marshall sits frozen behind the menu. His face screamed unbothered, but his heart shattered. He wasn’t too sure how much more he could take of this. Losing Proof, himself, hell, maybe his career – it was all just too much at once.

And yet, she seemed to make it better. Whether in public or in private, she never cared for the Eminem side of things, she wanted Marshall. When they undergo their sexcapades, she’d proudly praise his body with innocent kisses that were enough to send shivers down his spine.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he mutters, watching her snap out of her own little world. She looks up at him with scrunched eyebrows, “do what?”

His shoulders rise, imitating that of a shy child. “Pretend like this is ideal. Like, like I’m the man that you dream of when you lay beside me.”

She shifts, leaning on her elbow. “Are you, are you saying that you’re not Marshall Mathers?” The woman feigns horror, bottom lip trembling in despair. “Are you a clone?”

She pauses, “my God, you’re a clone.” She leaps out of the bed, bare naked. She points a freshly manicured finger at him, shouting, “clone! Clone!”

The rapper bites back a laugh, shaking his head. He could’ve slept with anyone, any actress; he just had to choose the goofy one. Finding it impossible, he breaks into a laugh, tossing a pillow her way.

Regardless of how cool she appeared on camera; she lacked a lot of that appeal. She was a klutz and though she was more of the silent, observant kind, it wasn’t the sexy one. It was like that one kid in your school that didn’t fuck with anybody or anything, they were a ghost.

She misses it by a hair, the pillow crashes into her knee causing her to stumble with a laugh. “Shut up,” Marshall laugh. “I’m not no damn clone. Hell, that might be better than looking like this fat fuck.”

This time, she throws the pillow at him. The humor in her eyes has disappeared and instead, replaced with a somber glare. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you look,” she carefully scolds taking her place at his side once more.

“If you’re uncomfortable because you’re unhealthy, then that’s one thing, but being fat is not a bad thing nor is it unattractive.”

“You can stop fuckin’ lying to me,” he snarls, face burning with anger as his insecurities flush through his mind.

“No one’s lying to you, Marshall! Baby, you were handsome then and you’re handsome now. If you want to take care of yourself then so be it, but that doesn’t mean you have to harm your self-esteem.”

“Stop fucking lying to me,” he barks, “and just be honest. Can you really stand seeing my fat ass fucking you? You don’t ever stop and wonder if I’ll suffocate you? Is the dick that good or are you that much of a slut?”

“If I was such a fucking slut, Marshall, I would’ve already up and left months ago! Just admit that you care and we can go about this like fucking adults.” He continues to shake his head, “get the fuck out.”

But she keeps pushing. “You fucking care and that scares you, I get it, but that doesn’t make it right for you to fuck other people over.”

“Get out.”

“You’re so deep in your mind and the drugs that you forget that you still have family, people who care about you here and willing to support you! Don’t make Proof’s death into anything less than what it actually was. He died believing in you, wanting the best in you.”

“Get the fuck out!”

“You have daughters, waiting to see their father. Wanting more than just a few minutes of playtime, they want to be under you. They want to feel your presence, not gifts. Not texts or calls. They want you.”

“I swear to God, girl. If you don’t shut the fuck up!”

“I’m not gonna shut the fuck up! How about you act like a man!”

“Bitch, fuck you!”

“I love you!”

He glares at her, panting with blind rage. “I don’t. I never did. You ain’t shit to me, but another dick warmer. You ain’t shit to anybody in fucking Hollywood, but some fucking diversity hire with pretty tits and a fat ass. Maybe you should remember what you’re really here for.”

“You’re right. I’m the diversity eye-candy of Hollywood while you’re the drug addicted culture vulture. I guess we both forgot. I never wanna see you again.” He smirks, watching her storm around the room, dressing herself in a haste.

“Not a problem for me, baby. Not a problem at all.”

She storms out of the room without a look over shoulders. In contrast to his words, Marshall had a problem with this. He forces himself to watch her leave like several times before, playful kisses and phrases absent. As the front door closes, he collapse back into bed as sobs begin to rack his body.

-18 years later-

“It’s great to see you, Em, how’ve you been?” Sway asks. Marshall nods, “I’ve been good, man. Literally just working and spending some time with the family.”

The broadcaster nods, “I saw that. I saw Hailey’s wedding pictures on Instagram, congratulations. How does it feel now to see your little girl get swept up?”

“It fucking sucks,” he jokes as the Shade 45 crew laughs along. “Like, I did it before with Laney, cool. Cool, it stung like a bitch, but cool. Then Hailey comes through with her man and their engagement and I’m just like, what the fuck?! I knew I was getting old but shit man.”

Sway nods, “that’ll do it. At first, you know you’re aging, but when accolades are being accomplished then that’s when it really hits you.” As everyone else nods in agreement, he turns the conversation to a more professional piece.

“So, you put out Houdini for your Coup de Grace and it landed at number 2 on the Billboard Hot 100. Congratulations on that as well since that is the highest you’ve charted in the decade. What are your plans for the remainder of the year? Cause I know you have The Death of Slim Shady comin’ around, but do you also plan to make any public appearances, tours, or do you just wanna put the music out and chill in bed?”

“Cause you already did a surprise popout at a Detroit Concert Event, will there be anymore?”

Marshall shrugs, “the bed option honestly doesn’t sound bad at all. It’s one that I’d prefer, but fucking Paulina won’t let me. Instead, I’ll be in Texas this October to headline the Formula 1 Grand Prix Concert.”

“Oh, shit, really? That’s dope man.” Sway nods, “now are you big on racing? I’ve heard that it can be a crazy ass sport.” He shrugs, “kind of. Not into it as much as football, but I do look in here and there.”

“And there’s a list of other artists performing there as well?” Marshall nods, “yeah. I know Sting was confirmed to perform, I think the first night or the third because I’ll be the second. I’m not too sure who’s performing the first.”

A member of the crew leans over, “I believe it was y/n. Let me double check.” It was silent for a moment. Anticipation clutching at his chest, he leans forward with an interested gaze.

His face void of emotion, waiting for a solidified answer. He couldn’t understand if he saw this as a good thing, an opportunity to rekindle things or more so a badly moment of truth he wasn’t prepared for.

“Yes, it was confirmed last night that she’ll headline the first night.”

Sway looks back his way, “are you familiar with y/n?” The rapper nods, “uh, yeah. Yeah, I am, actually.” He gulps.

Marshall wasn’t one to prepare for an interview as he always knew what to say to keep things personal and who to give his time to. However, nothing in the world could’ve prepared him for questions about a lost love.

“We, uh, dated back in ‘06 for some months, I believe.” Sway’s eyebrows raise, “really?”

The former rapper may be a journalist, but he was an artist first who respected Marshall and vice versa. He knew the man basked privacy and wanted to be sure that this was the route he wanted to take.

“Yeah, we did. Things didn’t end well since, ya know, I was dealing with drugs and Proof’s passing. There’s not a lot of things or people I remember from back then, but she. She stays on my mind, always has.”

Sway leans toward him, whispering, “are you sure?” He nods, mouth drying.

“My comeback album, Relapse, in the song Beautiful… I’ve made a few references to her. Made it my moment to say things I couldn’t say to her face. Space Bound, Love the Way You Lie, and So Bad from Recovery were some, too.”

“Do you ever think that, maybe you’d want to see her again? Or is something of the past?” The rapper sighs, “I would prefer to see her again. Make amends, ya know. I see her in the media kicking ass, winning awards. I’m proud of her.”

Sway sends him a reassuring smile, “well, your folks at Shade 45 hope you two can make shit happen, man.”

—

If it was 2006 all over again, she’d swoon and make flirtatious quips at him through the media until he felt confident enough to approach her first. Unfortunately, she wasn’t that little girl again.

She has a couple years until she turned 50, two kids, a divorce under her belt, and a legacy. She no longer had time or the patience to paw at old flames, she wasn’t her ex-husband, for God’s sake. And yet, her heart pumped as if she ran a marathon all because the man who broke her heart eighteen years ago still loved her.

To make matters worse, the only way she had to contact him was through fucking social media. Did the old fuck even know how to operate the shit?

Great, so not only will she have to text him, but now take the chance of him not knowing how to reply. She knew her inability to live in peace was a forever thing, but the shit life throws at her is getting kind of ridiculous right now.

Um, I see you’re talking about me on the radio?

She hits send, fingers twitching with anxiety. She wasn’t some technical guru, but she wasn’t so out of touch to not understand that people take time to reply to things. However, this wasn’t a moment that deserved good virtue, so for fuck’s sake that dingy Midwest motherfucker better answer now.

Was it true? All of it?

She sends another text when a bubble appears, floating happily as it registers whatever the bullshit Marshall plans to spew. After a few minutes, the bubble has made itself at home and she was ready to gank the man by his neck through the damn phone.

Goddamn old man, don’t tell me arthritis got you? Long ass paragraph…

Doesn’t that mean you have a ghostwriter? Oh, scandalous

Finally, his reply comes in.

Shut up. And yes, I meant everything I said. Sorry, if you were uncomfortable.

She sits, staring at the screen in silence. Her fingers move faster than her mind could process.

It took you five minutes to text me that. FIVE MINUTES!

Shut up and just say that you’ll have dinner with me, tonight?

I’m in Charleston.

I’ll fly you out then.

I’m not one of your little sluts

Of course not, you’re my favorite. I’ll fly you out, tonight. Don’t bring anything but a change of clothes.

That’s why your dick’s small.

Tagged: @evasmlp

Sorry, it’s a day late and that it sucks! I fell asleep last night after writing the first portion, but I hope you like it

#eminem x you #eminem x reader #Eminem imagines #eminem #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagines #marshall mathers #slim shady #soulc.hilde requested #marshall mathers fluff #Eminem fluff

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