Hii!! Ive Never Requested Smth Before But I Absolutely Adore Your Lil One Shots For Alastor And Was Wondering

Hii!! i’ve never requested smth before but i absolutely adore your lil one shots for alastor and was wondering if you could write smth based on someone’s idea?

https://www.tumblr.com/sockmeat/741700944177315840/alastor-in-rut-but-instead-of-him-being-horny-hes

completely fine if not!! i just thought it was a cute idea and would love to see it wrote in an actual scenario!! :3

this is really simple and short but god writing block is killing me quickly... hope u like it anyway!!!!!! mwah mwah

as stated in the request, this is based off of @sockmeat 's post, which you can access by clicking here!

Jealousy Looks Good on You

alastor x reader (fluff) TW: alastor is super possessive, reader is referred to as female but doesn't really effect story at all, thats it i think

join my discord!

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It was that time of year again for Alastor. A few months of absolute physical and mental torture—which, considering he lived in Hell, maybe that was how Heaven finally managed to torment him for eternity. It never took a genius to figure out what put Alastor in such an odd state.

He was a deer.

Deer go into rut.

It was incredibly embarrassing, to say the least, especially for him when the rut was over. However, for his “mate,” who faced the brunt end of his seasonal affections, you didn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, it was probably your favorite three months of the year. 

You were currently lounging in the hotel lobby, chatting with Angel Dust about a bar he was interested in going to. You had one leg thrown up over the other, clad in a dark red outfit that had been “mysteriously” placed on the edge of your bed when you woke up—you knew who the culprit was as soon as you saw Alastor a few minutes later in a suspiciously similar outfit of the same color scheme.

He had been sitting next to you for a while, making small, nearly unnoticeable bids for attention as you tried to focus on Angel’s words. A pressure on your knee with his own, a light graze of his fingers through your hair as he lifted his hand to adjust his monocle… to anybody else, the contact would’ve seemed only coincidental; however, to you, it was obvious considering the great care he always took to mind his personal space.

A brief glance out of the corner of your eye confirmed your suspicions. You couldn’t help but lightly grin at the tense grin on his face and the growing expression of frustration as you continued to keep your attention on Angel.

“–so, that being said, I wanted ta invite’cha out with me! And Cherri’ll be there too,” Your eyes turned back towards the spider. You could nearly feel the tenseness in Alastor’s shoulders heighten, and that radio frequency of his tuning up ever so slightly, but still noticeable.

“That bar is no place for my lady,” Alastor responded in a snap before you could even open your mouth. You whipped your head in his direction with a frown. 

“She isn’t your anything, Smiles,” Angel shot back, also interrupting your own attempt at defending yourself. 

It was almost comical, the way your head twisted back and forth with each remark the two made at each other. The tension was rising quickly, and you were getting more agitated with how many times you got cut off from saying a single word.

You were distracted from your own mental anguish when Alastor abruptly stood, hand gripping his cane with more force than usual. There was a dangerous look in his red eyes as he grinned down at Angel.

“She is mine,” Alastor stated with finality. “And what’s mine stays with me.” He reached down and gripped your hand, tugging you up with him. As angry as he seemed he was still gentle with you, at least. 

You’d be lying if you didn’t find the possessiveness attractive. Heck, it would probably be impossible to date the Radio Demon if you didn’t want to be obsessed over and practically owned. You were only slightly embarrassed at the heat on your cheeks when you felt the almost desperate grip of his on your hand, to which Angel pointed at with a defeated “what the hell.”

He basically dragged you away from the situation, ears slightly pressed back. He refused to look at you as you caught up to his steps and walked beside him. He didn’t have to look at you, though, because you already knew the turmoil that was going through his head.

“Don’t be so embarrassed,” You tried to comfort as he opened the door to your shared bedroom. “I think it’s very becoming of a gentleman to protect his property.” You enjoyed the way his eyes glittered with pride when you referred to yourself in such a manner. You didn’t truly consider yourself property, of course, but you simply enjoyed seeing that look in his eyes and the way his chest involuntarily puffed up.

What a different being Alastor was during his rut. More expression than ever with the way his affections and frustrations were so visible in his body language. He pulled you closer to him, squeezing you against his body as he let the two of you fall into the bed. You lifted yourself off of his chest with an elbow and looked down at him.

He met your gaze with his own wide, needy eyes and quivering smile. To put it simply, he looked… pitiful. Endearing. You loved it. He hated it. You knew if anybody saw him in this state he would go on the attack immediately without a single thought. You briefly glanced back to make sure the door had been locked. Just in case.

You smiled at him and peppered kisses on his chest and up, finally nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. He sighed pleasantly at your motions, swooping his arms up to position you on your side in front of him, wrapping himself protectively around your body.

“I crave you, my love,” He stated in an incredibly forward way. His voice lacked the typical radio effect as he spoke, and you realized your skin was also not prickling with the sensation that usually accompanied his presence. You responded by layering your hands over his own, which was resting comfortably against your waist. “I never want you out in such a… dirty place with that overly sexual spider.”

“I know, Al,” You said with a sigh. “Too many ‘hungry eyes’, you’ve told me this.”

He remained quiet, and you could barely feel the way your hair flicked every time he exhaled against the top of your head.

You also remained quiet, opting to just enjoy the moment. These three months went by so, so fast, so you didn’t want to waste time speaking and bickering over meaningless things. You didn’t care to go to bars, anyway; you weren’t much of a drinker. You also hoped to get Alastor’s mind off of his disdain for Angel. While you trusted him to know better to attack one of your friends—more importantly one of Charlie’s friends—you didn’t want to take any chances. He was somehow even more unpredictable during his rut.

You leaned your head back, tilting up slightly to meet Alastor’s gaze. He placed a feather-light kiss against your forehead in response.

He was in for a long three months, but you were going to enjoy every second of it.

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: hybrids, predator/prey dynamic, mounting, sort of dubcon-ish, a hint of somnophilia, breeding, established relationship.

wc: 1.6k

fox hybrid!naruto is as playful as much as he is sneaky.

he follows you around the apartment; curiously peeking from behind the corners, watching your every move not because he’s skittish, but rather because he wants to learn how you behave when you think he’s not around.

he does it quite often for some reason. perhaps it’s the wild of the predator that’s coursing his blood or the naive wonder that’s just signature for his personality, who knows, but if you catch him by any chance — and you do, he isn’t nearly as slick as he thinks he is — he immediately comes over, wraps his arms around you from behind and makes sure to comfort you and nip your cheek or bottom lip with his sharp fangs after every kiss he gifts you in apology.

still, he continues his watch. he learns your patterns over time despite the fact that he has a habit of tripping over his own two feet and blowing his cover with all the noise it causes. he learns the way you move, the little quirks that you exhibit, the timing of them. he learns them all as a safety precaution which he doesn’t really need if you think about it.

after all, he could slam into you full force as a means to take over and could simply make you submit to his predatory instinct just like a couple of his apex predator friends had done with their own mates in the past. he’s well aware that he’d win if he did it that way; he’s no wolf or bear, but he’s still stronger and armored with a far bigger set of teeth than the one that currently sits in your mouth.

however, the problem is that you’re sneaky too.

you’re a tough little thing to grasp — hard to impress, even worse to court. are practically made to slip between a person’s fingers if they were to try and squeeze you into their fist without asking for permission to do so first. on top of all that, you being a cat hybrid amongst all the other possibilities available doesn’t help his situation either; it makes you exceptionally perceptive and equally as hard to dominate because of it. so troublesome!

and that’s not all there is to it. even your eyesight is spectacular, as is your awareness of your surroundings. the triangle-shaped ears that sit atop your head twitch and constantly angle in the direction of the smallest movement he makes. and naruto knows that they do, that they listen and assess the danger. he’s tested it out so many times during the course of your relationship.

the first step he takes towards you whenever your back is turned in his direction is also usually his last because of how fast you are to turn around to face him in mere seconds, rigid body language exhibiting high alert. he’s never even gotten the chance to fully sneak up on you yet, much less tackle you into a play fight.

this entire thing would be so much easier if you were a bunny. he’d push and you’d take it like a good little rabbit, the end. everyone knows that bunny hybrids practically throw themselves before the jaws of a predator and spread their strong legs just as willfully the moment their first heat comes into play.

but naruto, even whilst itching to conquer you because of the beast within, kind of digs the challenge a moody little kitty such as yourself brings to the table. especially when the effort that he’s put into all this preying finally manages to pay off.

actually, it enables him to catch you when you’re least expecting it — during your afternoon nap.

your feline behaviour really shines at its brightest when you doze off. instinctively drawn to warmth, he’s since learned that you always fall asleep in the patch of sunlight that spills through the window and onto the couch across the room when the days are clear and the curtains are pushed to the side. always in the same position, too. on your tummy, with your limbs relaxed and stretchy; tail swishing from side to side ever so slightly before going completely still. just like now.

oh shit, there it is; the sign he’s been waiting for!

your tail has stopped moving so that means you’re completely out for the next half hour, perhaps even more. he watches from a safe distance just to make sure, leaning against the doorway that leads into the living room and straining his fox ears as hard as he’s possibly able as a means to catch every sound.

thud, thud, thud. your heartbeat is calm, as is your breathing. you’re at ease while you sleep, he can not only hear it but see it too. open and vulnerable and trusting, allowing yourself to be caught completely off guard. you could almost pass as docile, the way you look right now, but he knows better — he’s been with you for long enough to know.

so he takes one step forward, slowly. toes, heel. nothing happens.

he takes another. all is well.

and then all of a sudden, before your heavy eyelids can get the chance to crack open at the sound of fast-approaching footsteps, and before you can come back to from the depths of the cozy catnap you were so pleasantly indulging in, naruto at long last makes his move.

your sweet fox boyfriend pins you down with his weight as he lays on top of you; he squeezes you flat against the couch until your cheek is pressing into its soft cushions. he’s warm and shirtless and his skin smells like the summery shower gel he must have washed himself with earlier, but he doesn’t seem to be scared of your claws that might come in contact with him, promising pain.

even his hair is still damp. a small droplet of water lands on your cheek when you try to turn your head to the side to look at him.

you hiss at him with prominent annoyance when it slides down the edge of your jaw, the action a subtle warning that clearly tells him to stop this nonsense right now, but he’s been expecting that, too. so he works quickly to try and tame you into submission, allowing instinct to take charge because it’s the only safe bet he has.

you’re surprised how easily he works his way around you and it’s entirely your fault. he doesn’t show how strong he actually is underneath all the shy caresses that he gives you and the nice grins and it makes you forget, giving you a false sense of authority that quickly diminishes when you’re the one experiencing that raw power on your own body.

so it’s no wonder that you stand no chance while he manhandles you and keeps you caged underneath him. that you feel utterly helpless while he drags your comfortable little shorts down your legs with zero problem; until they’re hanging off one ankle right along with your panties.

he frees his cock, fists it a couple of times with the help of some drool before he mounts you then, breathing hard and still making sure to avoid the claws you’re bound to sink into him the second he releases your wrists. he’s holding them both with just one hand, seemingly mocking your incompetency even further, albeit completely unintentionally.

and it’s true; he doesn’t mean it. naruto has never been mean-spirited like that despite the whole predator aspect that lives and roars beneath his gorgeous tan skin.

but foxes can be tricky.

so he holds his grip and they dig into the couch instead, your claws. they get caught in the blanket that you’re both sweating on top of now as his hips rut into you and yours follow the deep, almost animalistic rhythm even though your anger and pride tell you to stop, stop, fucking stop obeying him.

but you can’t stop, you’re forced to submit because he’s a bigger threat than you are; it’s just how your brain is wired. you bend to survive. it’s exactly like that situation with the scrawny mouse girl who you used to tease and endlessly make fun of back in high school.

how does it feel to be on the prey side, little kitty?

you’re unsure how to feel about this entire thing, it might be because your mind has slipped into a certain kind of haze. he fucks you like he’s never fucked you before and a prolonged mewl that you can’t hold back leaves your lips when his teeth sink into the crook of your neck all of a sudden, marking you.

the strap of your tank top is hanging off your shoulder, exposing you further, and his hot, greedy mouth follows the naked skin without a second thought, just biting, licking, sucking. marking.

he’s growling and snarling into your ear every time he slams into you, sounding like the exact opposite of himself. you’re no better either; you keep making so much noise that you’re ashamed of yourself. moaning and whining, squirming and thrashing underneath him. by the time he fills you up with his seed, you’ll probably start to purr.

just the thought alone makes you feral. the sudden urge to be bred and bear his children plagues your mind like the deadliest storm. imagining your pussy leaking his warm cum is simply too good while stuck in a lowly position such as this one.

his cock is throbbing inside you as he pounds into your slick cunt, trying to push its way into your fucking womb. he’s big and heavy, hot in your tummy and hard to fit. the adrenaline that he’s getting because of the complete control he now has over you is surely exciting him enough to make him see god.

he probably won’t see god, though.

oh no, you’ll make sure to drag this wicked fox into the very depths of hell the second his knot stops swelling and he releases you from his iron-like grip.

another brainrot coming in Kazuha getting you super drunk, and you think hes drunk as well but bros sober and just wanted to get you drunk for sex @///@

Yandere!Kazuha x Drunk!Reader

𓇬♡ | Warning: NSFW, dubcon, reader is intoxicated and a virgin, mention of alcohol, implying of obsessive behavior, etc.

𓇬♡ | Word Count: 2.1k

"Kazuha? Low alcohol tolerance? Hahaha.. Where did you get this false information from?" The Crux Captain laughed as if hearing you spit a joke. "He is one of the best at holding his liquor. I've never seen him drunk before." She continues her words, raises her eyebrow at your face that start to grows pale.

"So, what happened? Are you making a bet with him over a drinking contest?"

"If so, you better step down. Because you are playing a losing game here." She starts to pity you. With that confused and pale face, Beidou is sure the bet you made was a big one. If only she knew what happened the night before. If only she was on the ship to stop you from drinking with the Inazuma's fugitive. Your hands come up to support your head that began to throb.

"Kazu- nghh!" You couldn't complete your words when he is sucking your neck like that. Letting his sharp fang graze on your soft skin, wet hot tongue dragged towards your collar bone, lower to slit your cleavage. You brought your hands to your lips to cover your moans. His hand on your waist holding you closer. He has waited for this very moment to claim you. Having you lay limply against his arms. You melt under his touch. When you look down with teary eyes only to catch him watching you back with his face in deep red flush. His half lidded eyes meet your glistened one. While your hand reaches to touch his cheek. He put his other hand on top of it, closing his eyes with his chin resting on top of your chest.

"Kazuha.." He learns the doubt in your tone. Softly cooing you while he brings your hand down his face to intertwine both your hands.

"Shh.. Just enjoy it, okay Love?" If the breeze is a human sound, it will be in the form of Kaedehara Kazuha's. His whisper sweeps away the doubt in your heart. Replacing it with some kind of newfound feeling as you feel his hand slipped between your thigh, rubbing it oh so slowly. Sending a tingling sensation between your legs.

"Ah.. this is your first time, isn't it?"

You nod your head slowly. As he hummed in delight, whispering something along the lines 'don't worry' and 'I'll be gentle'. You know he isn't lying by how his hand touches your inner thigh, gently guiding you to spread your legs.

His question was a rhetorical one. Kazuha knows things about you quite well-too well in fact-even though you guys just met a few months ago. He was curious as to why you always seem to avoid him. One's research turns to basically asking around about you, later when he sees you on the street, he wanders not too closely, just to watch you from afar. After all, he doesn't want to scare you, and makes you feel more awkward around him. Overtime he understands little things about you, such as how you enjoy drinking on The Alcor with The Crux while playing some TCG card on saturday night-only when they docked at Liyue.

Night breeze doesn't make you shiver, in fact you enjoy it too much. Letting the cold breeze blow on your face as you close your eyes, looming over some less crowded corner of the ship where no one bothers to check. The sea was dark, but countless stars and the moon reflected on its surface. Alluring you to stare for a bit too long. While you were occupied with staring far away to the dark sea, Kazuha will come and lend you his jacket, with more cups of beer in hand. He is truly a sweet guy, you think. Still you have reasons to avoid him. And so you spare no thought on his lingering touch, like when he spent a minute too long to let go of the beer glass as your finger brushed on his. Or how he lets his arm wrap around your shoulders after putting his jacket on you. You know well not to let your heart waver.

His head goes down on you to kiss your inner thigh. You can't help but pant as he teases your lower part, hot tongue swirling on your clit. His hand pushed down your thigh, preventing it from closing around his face. Hair strains fall on his forehead, while his eyes trained on your expression as it changed into a pleasurable one. No wonder so many fell under his palm. You bite your lips as you feel a strange feeling building up. It's like something inside you about to burst. Did you get close from his tongue alone? That left you wonder, with how skillful the man under you playing with your other lips, how many other women has he tainted? The question dies on your lips as you feel his tongue teasing your wet hole. You were almost embarrassed by how lewd the sound it makes. If only not by the pleasure that is big enough to cover any other emotion.

A sweet moan slipped from your mouth finally, after he nudged the gummy spot. Unable to contain your voice any longer as the feeling becomes too intense with each movement of his tongue. You feel his finger rubbing on your clit, while he is still eating you out. At last it hits you, your first orgasm of the night. He was quick to lap on your pussy, as you came on his mouth, not leaving a single drop. Kazuha could spend forever eating you if he doesn't remember what he aimed for tonight. So he only spent long enough time eating you up until you are a wet mess, babbling his name while moaning and sobbing. Your protest fell into deaf ears. He doesn't stop when you say 'It's too much'. He can't. You are sucking him in, so how can it be too much for you. He is sure you can take it. It's just your first time coming so many times, that's why you might feel overwhelmed at first. But you will get used to it, and he will make sure of that.

When he finishes preparing you, finally revealing his throbbing cock in front of your pussy, you squirm from his grip unconsciously trying to get away from him. He holds you down, with a hand gripping both of your wrist on top of your head. He groans when he rubs the tip of his cock on your pussy lips. You moan back, clinging onto nothing as his length slowly inserts your hole. It was too much, you never felt so full in your entire life. When he starts to move slowly the feeling clouding your brain.

You sob as he moves in and out, feeling every inch of his cock rubbing on your gummy walls before it disappears leaving a strange empty feeling. Kazuha drags his cock slowly, letting you remember the taste of his cock. Every inch of it. His hand is playing with your nipple, while his mouth latches on your other side. Picking up his pace as he felt your hole adjusting to his size. Tears roll down your cheek as you feel your body tremble, too overwhelmed by the feeling. With your body already overly sensitive after he eats you out, you easily cum on his length. Kazuha groans at the way your hole clenches around him. Looking up just to see your face deep in pleasure, eyes roll back as he continue to fuck you.

"You are a naughty one, Love." His smile at you feels somewhat sinister than how he usually is. "Did you just come from me entering you?" You can't return his words as you feel he moves faster. Hitting your sensitive spot that he already memorised. You tremble from the over stimulation. Choked moans as you blabbering his name, trying to stop him with your squirm but feeling your hand binded by him and with his thrust that continuously hits your sweet spot, your body shudders. Hole creaming on him while moaning. You hear him grunts at how pretty you are. Eyes rolling back while tears staining your cheek. Moan fell off your lips like a melody to his ear. He kisses your neck, leaving more love mark while pounding into you nonstop.

You arch your back when he thrust deep enough to fill you with his cum. You felt the warm liquid flow in your womb. Trembling at the aftertaste of your orgasm. He stayed for a while inside of you. Engraving the warm feeling of his cum in you before he pulls out, letting the mixed liquid to drip out of your hole. Kazuha gives you a soft kiss. You, in your intoxicated state, return his kiss. With this, you are his now, right? You won't change your mind tomorrow, …right? He holds you closer with lips still latched on yours, devouring the sweet taste that he will long for after this day.

You were too busy regretting your choices. When a soft breeze blows on your neck, sending shivers all around your body.

"(Y/n)? I was looking for you."

To say he looks for you is an understatement. The man was frantically searching in every corner of the ship before he met you. For the fear that you figure out his scheme and leave the ship already. He almost had a heart attack realising you were not in his arms when he woke up this morning, you little sneak. He'll make sure to tie you to the bed next time just so you wouldn't run away. He smiled at you but the burden of your own thoughts makes it impossible for you to meet his gaze. Kazuha took notice of this. While Beidou excuses herself to let the both of you talk.

"What's wrong?" He murmurs in your ear softly, almost making you feel guilty as you faintly remember how he was gently handling you last night-well you remember only half of it. For an instant, you don't remember how you ended up on Kazuha's bed with the man on top of you. Shame on your mind, how can you accuse this man of setting you up, when it might be you who seduced him first. You shake your head slightly, still refusing to meet his eyes. It is such a mess. You strive for a peaceful life in some village near Liyue. So naturally you should avoid things that could possibly bring disturbance to your well planned future life. One of them is the guy that sits by your side now.

You were not really surprised when Beidou decided to bring a fugitive from Inazuma aboard in The Alcor. Sometimes her way of thinking is something you can't understand. But the moment she introduces this Kazuha guy, you keep in mind to avoid him at all cost. It was until he got you to drink with him when Beidou was absent. Which led to last night's disaster. You sigh as his hand rubs your shoulder gently, it was usually covered by bandage but now you can see his bare skin- which is not as smooth as you imagine it to be, the payment of when one pursues the path of samurai. That hand has touched every inch of your body. You flush at the thought, cursing at yourself silently.

"Kazuha, was I the one who threw us into this mess?" You finally spit out your thoughts meeting his gaze in a deep dilemma. You notice how his hand stops at your shoulder, seemingly surprised at your words.

"Mess?" He catches you diverting your eyes again. "...So that's what you think of what we did last night."

You watch as his head drops, half of his face shadowed by his bang. Only now did you realise his hair is untied, white strain fell on his shoulder, framing his jaw which softened his feature. If not for his toned body which is still prominent even under the clothes, he could be passed off as a woman because of his beauty alone. Your hand reaches out to tuck the white strain behind his ear. He looks up at you in silence.

"I am sorry." The words fell off your lips with a heavy sigh. You know your weakness at beauty, but the peacefull life you always dream of is at stake. The house you has buy from the money you collect for years. Everything is set and just a little more time before you can stop working and has a quick retirement. You can't risk losing that. And Kazuha know you can't fulfill his wish. But he can't afford to lose you either. Not after he got a taste of you.

Hello :3 can I request a Lyney x female reader who is a mechanic, and Lyney flirts with her while shes working in hopes to make her flustered, but she ends up flirting back and makes him flustered instead, which leads to Lyney finding out he likes being topped by a girl in bed so, a sub lyney x dom female reader :3 Thank you!

💖~ I had a lot of fun with this, I won't deny it. I have never felt like this in my life heeeelp

Warning: Smut, Fem!Reader | English is not my native language, so if I have made any mistakes in the translation, I am open to corrections | Content in spanish and english!

Spanish:

Una sonrisa se dibujó en su rostro al escuchar el tintineo de la campana que dió el aviso de su llegada. El ruido del reloj constante entraba por uno de sus oídos y le salía por el otro mientras pasaba a través de los estantes de la tienda repleta de artefactos y cachivaches que, para el ojo de los desconocidos e incultos en tu tipo de arte, pensarían que era producto de un huracán que tiró todos los tubos y los engranajes alrededor de los estantes desorganizados.

Lyney había escuchado tu voz dándole la bienvenida a tu tienda, una frase que repetías casi de manera mecánica cuando la alerta en forma de campana sonaba. Tu entera concentración no estaba en el mago, cosa que lo molestó en algún lugar de su profundo corazón, sino que tu mirada estaba más interesada en el intercambio de los engranajes de lo que parecía un reloj en su más puro estado de metal y agujas desnudas sobre tu mesa empolvada, brochas, llaves y destornilladores te rodeaban como si solo hubieran sido tiradas sobre la mesa para esperar su turno de ser usadas por tus manos que jugaban con las partes del reloj, descubriendo poco a poco el rompecabezas que habías armado y cuyas piezas fallaban de alguna manera para caer en tus manos.

“Parece que ni siquiera tienes tiempo para saludarme correctamente, cher.” El mago, tan dramático como solía ser, se puso una mano en su corazón dolido por tu frialdad. Tus dedos se detuvieron al escuchar su voz, la sombra de una sonrisa en tus labios se formó mientras te quitabas los anteojos y los dejabas sobre la mesa.

La parte de atrás de la tienda es donde solías trabajar, era tu taller, no sé suponía que alguien entrara a tu rincón privado, pero Lyney siempre tuvo este pase de entrada, incluso si nunca se lo dijiste, él sabía que podía pasearse por dónde le diera la gana en tu tienda y tu taller. Ese era su privilegio. Solo suyo.

“Pensé que tenías una práctica para tu show de mañana.” Lyney no soportó un minuto más para tomar tu mano y quitarte tus guantes grasientos antes de entrelazar sus dedos con los tuyos y levantarte para fundirse a sí mismo en tu abrazo. Un sonido de satisfacción, como dejar salir sus preocupaciones desde sus pulmones, te calentó el pecho junto a su otra mano sobre tu cintura.

“Tengo un problema muy urgente y solo tú puedes ayudarme.” El mago sonrió, la misma sonrisa de un zorro astuto a punto de robar algo, la sonrisa que te hizo imitarlo con diversión. “Siento mis extremidades entumecidas cuando trató de subir al escenario, cher. Necesito que engrases mis articulaciones para que pueda volver a mi puesto como el gran mago que Fontaine conoce.”

El chico parecía obsesionado con soltar las peores frases para ligar referente a la mecánica, te habías enterado por Freminet que incluso llegó a pedirle explicaciones a él para planear sus avances al inicio de su cortejo, y parecía que no tenía planes de terminar con sus movimientos. Te sorprendió que no se le cruzara por la cabeza la idea de usar alambres y tuercas como serpentina un día de estos. Aunque no niegas que tal vez sí lo hizo y lo descartó para no hacerte daño.

La sonrisa victoriosa y orgullosa del mago te calentó el corazón, no importaba si querías meterle un trapo en la boca para que se calle mientras seguía soltando una gran cantidad de basura romántica mientras te hacía bailar con él en el pequeño taller. Su corazón bombeaba como el fuego de una maquinaria a vapor, estaba seguro de que necesitaría que le ayudes a transformar ese anticuado mecanismo en uno totalmente nuevo y moderno, así podría amarte mejor también. Tal vez podrías hacer algo como una fuente y jugar con la energía hidráulica para que sus circuitos te den pequeñas descargas eléctricas a distancia cuando pensara en ti.

Sus intentos de ponerte ese precioso color colorado en tus mejillas fue humilde, podrías clasificarlo en uno de los mejores solo porque su voz es preciosa mientras cerca de tus labios y acariciaba tu mejilla con la esperanza de que su magia haga aparecer tu sonrojo. Lyney era un buen hombre y merecía que lo reconocieran.

“Si es así, creo que debo abrirte y revisar qué está mal contigo.” Tu juego pudo haberse quedado en eso solamente, pero no te echarías para atrás, mucho menos cuando el propio Lyney casi se atraganta cuando le quitaste su capa y lo tomaste por los hombros para besarlo. Dio un grito interno junto a un reseteo de su propio cerebro mientras te sujetaba por la cadera y trataba de seguir tu ritmo, pero ya lo habías sentado en tu mesa de trabajo y los botones de su camisa se estaban desabotonando. Su sombrero y su camisa blanca quedaron en tu mesa, el lugar más limpio del taller en el que trabajaban normalmente arreglando guardias robots, ahora estabas aplastando el miembro de Lyney en tu mano mientras lo obligabas a no apartar la mirada.

Sus ojos casi se nublaron cuando tu mano lo agarró por el mentón y le abriste la boca con tus dedos, provocando que un nuevo jadeo se escuche dentro del pequeño taller.

“Tu caja de voz parece que funciona bien, por desgracia. Pero esperemos que una sobrecarga te arregle lo que tienes en la cabeza, amor.” Tu dedo pulgar acarició la punta del falo de Lyney, tus demás dedos parecían recordar las diferentes venas que eran parte de su carne, tu mano empezó a moverse más rápido gracias al líquido preseminal que brotaba desde la punta. “Parece que está parte de ti funciona excelentemente. Felicidades, parece que no estás lo suficientemente dañado como para tener que hacerte un análisis completo.”

Las manos de Lyney se aferraron a la mesa, tratando de arañar la madera debajo de sus dedos mientras sus piernas simplemente caían frente a él, sentía que su cuerpo caliente era arrasado por el espacio pequeño en el que estaba siendo jodido, pero poco le pudo haber importado en dónde iba a soltar su semen para cuando tus labios ya estaban dejando marcas en su cuello expuesto. Sus pezones eran muy sensibles, tanto que solo bastó que los lamiera para que manchara patéticamente tu ropa con su eyaculación.

“Ahí debería estar mejor.” Tu tono lo martirizó cuando tu mano no se detuvo, lo llevaste a través de su orgasmo hasta que prácticamente jadeó como una pasiva contra tu aliento. “Parece que aún no estás totalmente bien. Creo que necesitaré ser un poco más paciente contigo, ¿verdad?”

No pudo evitar gemir un patético “sí” contra tus labios, aceptando cualquier cosa que planearas hacerle en ese momento.

English:

A smile appeared on his face as he heard the tinkling of the bell that announced his arrival. The constant noise of the clock entered one of his ears and left the other as he passed through the shelves of the store full of artifacts and bric-a-brac that, to the eye of the unknown and uneducated in your type of art, would think that It was the product of a hurricane that knocked all the tubes and gears around on the shelves in disarray.

Lyney had heard your voice welcoming him to your store, a phrase you repeated almost mechanically when the bell-shaped alert rang. Your entire concentration was not on the magician, which bothered him somewhere deep in his heart, but your gaze was more interested in the exchange of the gears of what looked like a clock in its purest state of metal and bare hands. On your dusty table, brushes, keys and screwdrivers surrounded you as if they had only been thrown on the table to wait their turn to be used by your hands that played with the parts of the clock, discovering little by little the puzzle that you had put together and whose pieces failed somehow to fall into your hands.

“Looks like you don't even have time to greet me properly, cher.” The magician, as dramatic as he usually was, placed a hand on his heart, hurt by your coldness. Your fingers stopped when you heard his voice, the shadow of a smile forming on your lips as you took off your glasses and left them on the table.

The back of the store is where you used to work, it was your workshop, I don't know that someone was supposed to come into your private corner, but Lyney always had this entrance pass, even if you never told him, he knew he could wander around where would like in your store and your workshop. That was his privilege. Only his.

“I thought you had practice for your show tomorrow.” Lyney couldn't stand another minute to take your hand and remove your greasy gloves before intertwining his fingers with yours and lifting you up to melt himself into your embrace. A sound of satisfaction, like letting his worries out of his lungs, warmed your chest along with his other hand on your waist.

“I have a very urgent problem and only you can help me.” The wizard smiled, the same smile of a cunning fox about to steal something, the smile that made you imitate him with amusement. “My limbs feel numb when he tried to go on stage, cher. I need you to grease my joints so he can return to my position as the great magician Fontaine knows.”

The man seemed obsessed with saying the worst pickup lines regarding mechanics, you had found out from Freminet that he even asked him for explanations to plan his advances at the beginning of their courtship, and it seemed that he had no plans to end his movements. He surprised you that the idea of using wires and nuts as a streamer didn't cross his mind one of these days. Although you don't deny that maybe he did do it and he ruled it out so as not to hurt you.

The magician's victorious and proud smile warmed your heart, it didn't matter if you wanted to shove a rag in his mouth to shut him up as he continued spouting a lot of romantic garbage while making you dance with him in the small workshop. His heart was pumping like the fire of a steam engine, he was sure that he would need you to help him transform that antiquated mechanism into a totally new and modern one, so he could love you better too. Maybe you could make something like a fountain and play with water power so that his circuits would give you little electric shocks from a distance when he thought of you.

His attempts to put that beautiful blush on your cheeks was humbling, you could classify him as one of the best just because his voice is beautiful as he nears your lips and caresses your cheek in the hope that his magic will bring out your blush. Lyney was a good man, and he deserved to be recognized.

“If so, I think I should open you up and check what's wrong with you.” Your game could have stopped at just that, but you wouldn't back down, much less when Lyney himself almost choked when you took his cloak off of him and took him by the shoulders to kiss him. He gave an internal scream along with a reset of his own brain as he held you by the hip and tried to keep up with your pace, but you had already sat him down at your work table and the buttons on his shirt were unbuttoning. His hat and his white shirt were left on your table, the cleanest place in the workshop where they normally worked fixing robot guards, now you were crushing Lyney's cock in your hand while forcing him not to look away.

His eyes almost blurred when your hand grabbed him by the chin and you opened his mouth with your fingers, causing a new gasp to be heard inside the small workshop.

“Your voice box seems to be working fine, unfortunately. But let's hope an overload fixes what's in your head, love.” Your thumb caressed the tip of Lyney's cock, your other fingers seemed to remember the different veins that were part of his flesh, your hand began to move faster thanks to the precum oozing from the tip. “It seems like this part of you is working excellently. Congratulations, it looks like you are not damaged enough to need a full analysis.”

Lyney's hands gripped the table, trying to claw at the wood beneath his fingers as his legs simply fell in front of him, he felt his hot body being ravaged by the small space he was being fucked up, but little could he do having cared where he was going to release his cum by the time your lips were already leaving marks on his exposed neck. His nipples were very sensitive, so much so that it was enough for him to lick them for him to pathetically stain your clothes with his ejaculate.

“It should be better there.” Your tone tormented him when your hand didn't stop, you carried him through his orgasm until he was practically panting passively against your breath. “It seems like you're not totally fine yet. I think I’ll need to be a little more patient with you, right?”

He couldn’t help but moan a pathetic “yes” against your lips, accepting whatever you planned to do to him at that moment.

Great Minds Think Alike

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

synopsis: Alastor is jealous of his own shadow.

a/n: The reader is portrayed as being pretty smart and into science and stuff. I like the idea of Alastor being fond a character who’s pretty intelligent, he finds them fascinating and likes seeing how they tick. Also this might be a little rushed I apologize in advanced!

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

Alastors shadow is a traitor and a fake.

That’s what the man himself believes anyway, whilst he watches HIS shadow flutter around you, a wide smile trying far too hard to appear innocent on its face, as it helps you reach an especially high set stack of papers.

“Oh! Thank you so much…” Your sweet, melodic voice trailed off into an unsure note, not quite aware of how you should address the shadow that’s…ears(?) Twitched and wiggled, eyes(??) squinting back at you as it danced across the walls.

The radio demon wasn’t the least bit sure what had caused his shadows sudden bout of rebel, or why it had seem to take a special interest in you of all people.

Not that there was anything wrong or displeasing about you. Actually it was quite the contrary. Alastor found your company to be far more pleasant than most of the hotels staff and inhabitants.

You were awfully kind for a sinner. And not quite in the same realm of naivety that was the princess’s kindness.

You were smart. Clearly. Always aware of what went on around you and the neighboring spaces. Hardly had you been known to be caught off guard by the entrance of another, nor had you ever bumped into any of the sinners contrary to how the group seemed to enjoy clumping around each other in the foyer during special…”redemption” activities.

You were even so aware as to avoid any touch with the inhabitants of the hotel, including Alastor himself.

And while he wasn’t a very large fan of touch himself, even finding that he could appreciate your aversion to it, the demon couldn’t help feeling a little displeased by the lack of power it left him with when you evaded his touches so expertly.

Always stepping just slightly to the side when his hand attempted to connect with your shoulder. Head craning back, just quickly enough to appear natural when he made and effort pinch your cheeks condescendingly.

Frankly..it was frustrating.

And despite all that, despite all your evasions of the radio demon….here you were, practically-!-canoodling with his own shadow!!

“Oh..! You’re so sweet..” Red ears flopped and twitched, while his eyes narrowed. Alastor could not believe he was being made to watch this…disgusting display of treason.

You giggled softly, hand brushing along an invisible form, as the shadow curled around your own. You watched with a smile as your shadowed hand fell into the hair of the deers, only to gasp when met with the soft sensation of hair beneath your finger tips.

“Oh my…so you’re tangible..?” The shadow nodded vigorously, bumping its head into your palm before grabbing your wrist and laying a gentle kiss to your hand. With that smug fucking grin.

A static screech echoed in the parlour, turning the heads of the incoming dwellers, prompting them to gap at the twitching and seething demon.

And oh, was he seething.

You were far too curious for your own good frankly. So eager to dissect and experiment in what ever had caught your eye. Magic, contracts, demons, anything you could possibly find you wanted to study.

And Alastor was known to be one of the more enthusiastic individuals who indulged in your fascination. Encouraged it even.

Angel had often joked about the way he seemed to preen and puff up in pride whenever he dropped a newly disembodied sinners corpse at your feet, seemingly delighted in your ecstatic gasp of approval.

Which was…another thing. Redemption. Did you want to be redeemed? You’d hardly spoke of it. Sure, you participated in the trust exercised that the princess set up, but nearly everyone had to regardless. Perhaps you were too fascinated with the underworld to truly even think about the idea of redemption.

Alastor himself knew he wouldn’t, nor could he ever be redeemed. And frankly, the idea of you being thrown up to those pearly gates made his insides squirm in the most horrible way.

But that’s not something he wanted to ponder on right now. Not as he practically teleported to your side, shooting his shadow a sneer that it had the nerve to return, as he bent slightly over your shoulder. “My dear! What is it that has currently caught your eye this fine evening?”

When your eyes snapped to his own, he could practically feel the static buzz around him pleasantly, a smug shine in his eyes having successfully stolen your attention from that accursed shadow.

“Alastor! I was just…uh..chatting I suppose with your shadow! He’s been very helpful today. Did you send him?”

No-“Why yes! I did my dear. I figured it wouldn’t help to lend you a helping hand this night, after all you’ve been such a joy around the hotel since your arrival!”

The shadow swished and darted around, vigorously shaking its heads and hands in a way to catch your attention, but a small tap of alastors can to the floor sent it dissipating back to his feet with a displeased hiss.

“I simply could not stop myself from assisting the lovely little sinner that had come into the arms of our sweet little hotel.”

His smile twitched and stretched at the sight of your shiny flattered gaze, that darted across his face with the same awe you exuded when coming upon a new bit of information you had to uncover. A new mystery.

Perhaps Angel had a point. Prior to before…he could feel the way his back straightened..the way his ears stood tall and proud, and the tail of his coat shifted just slightly. The Radio Demon could not deny the pride that fluttered into his dead heart and seeped into his flesh.

Even as he hummed about a new species of sinner he had stumbled upon. Even as he watched with somewhat softer eyes as you gasped and leaned just the slightest bit into his space, eyes alight with interest. Even as his dark shadow like tentacles darted beneath his feet and out the door, in search of a new test subject to grab- just for you.

Even as his hand touched the dip between your shoulders blades, when he led you towards his room for a refreshing lunch before your next scientific session.

Alastor could not deny,

He and his shadow were one and the same.



Title: Perfidious.

Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Killer!Childe x M!Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 4.0k.

TW: Non//Con, Bottom!Childe, Graphic Violence, Kidnapping, Blood, Rough Sex, Bondage, Disturbing Themes, Obsessive Behavior, and Slight Bleeding Kinks.

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You felt steel against your back, first.

Straight, narrow, peeling away from you at the edges; running from the small of your back to the nape of your neck before losing contact where your head lulled to the side. The rope around your wrists was next, soft and smooth but drawn tight enough to bite into your forearms, then the concrete floor beneath your exposed form, greedily stealing away what warmth you’d managed to retain after the metal pole pressing into your spine drank its fill. Sharp copper filled your lungs, the scent of gore too fresh to carry the sickening sweetness of rot nearly strong enough to blot out your vision when you finally managed to pry your eyes open. Even then, your sight blotted grey around the edges, the world a smear of dark shadows and bright lights and red on—

Red.

Red dots, painted across the dull grey of the concrete floor. Red smeared against blank walls and coating the tapering points of meat hooks suspended haphazardly from the low ceiling. Red hair, smattered with viscera and slicked back by sweat, but still recognizable at first glance.

Your voice came out raspy, staggered. It tore at your throat, caught on your teeth, but you forced yourself to speak. You couldn’t think of anything else to do. “…Ajax?”

He was on the other side of the concrete room – a cellar, you realized, somewhat belatedly – but he turned as soon as you managed to wretch the words from your tongue. He was… He looked off; disheveled, but not as distressed as someone in his state should’ve been. His designer clothes and fur-lined coats had been traded out for a plain grey t-shirt and a black apron, the fabric of both visibly wet. He wasn’t wearing gloves, but his hands were stained with crimson up to the elbow, merging into the blood-soaked pair of pliers in his left hand. Relief coursed through you at the sight of his easy smile, and you strained against your restraints as he turned away from whatever he was carving and began to approach you. You stained against the pole, against your restraints, but both held strong, keeping you bound in place as he came to stand in front of you, one of his hands falling low enough to cup your chin. Normally, you’d try to brush off his smothering affection, laugh as you batted his hand away or tried to remind him that not everyone wanted to be greeted with one of his bone-crushing hugs, but now, you melted into his palm, your grin wide enough to tear the corners of your lips. “Ajax, I— I don’t know what happened, I can’t—”

“How does your head feel?” His voice was gentle, his tone soft and light and as warm as the blood still dripping from his fingertips. “That was quite a fall.”

Right. You could remember it, now; the feeling of jutting steps digging into your chest and back, concrete scraping against tender flesh. It came back to you in pieces, nonlinear and broken into disjointed fragments. You were lying on the floor, quickly losing consciousness, then standing in Ajax’s doorway, checking the address on your phone as you tried to figure out why your wealthiest classmate wouldn’t be living in some dilapidated shack on the edge of town. There’d been a bat, and a bolt of pain in the back of your skull, and… and then you were here, in a dirty basement with Ajax and so, so much blood.

It didn’t make sense, but Ajax was above you, waiting for your answer with a patient smile. “I think so,” you tried, despite the pounding in the back of your head, the knotting dread in your chest. “Did… did you hit me? I can’t really… I don’t know what’s going on.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “I guess I did, huh? Not on purpose, though, I promise – I wanted to let you down nice and easy. Had a syringe of the good stuff ready and everything.” Ajax paused, patted a square indent in the front pocket of his apron. “You were more punctual than I thought you’d be. When I heard you upstairs, I figured your little friend had arrived first and…” A quirk to his smile, a slant to the way he held his shoulders. “Well, I wasn’t going to be as gentle with him.”

Your… friend?

Blearily, you glanced away from Ajax, to the corner of the cellar that he’d occupied before you woke up. Your vision wasn’t so spotted, anymore, your thoughts not quite as incoherent, and you were able to make out a worktable covered in tools and hacksaws and knives of all shapes and designs, and a man sitting on a plastic chair beside it. Expect, he wasn’t sitting – he was buckled into himself, slouching forward, only held up by the fraying rope wrapped around his chest and the duct tape keeping his arms bound to that of his chair. His shirt had been torn open, uniform lacerations drawn down the length of his chest in deep, jagged lines, and you could see blood dripping from his lips, his nose, his ears. Red, coating everything in sight. Scarlet as far as the eye could see.

It took you longer than it should’ve to recognize him; patches of yellow and black bruising blossoming across everything that hadn’t been cut open, distorting features that you’d never made an effort to remember in the first place. Even when you managed to scrape something up, it was more of a role than anything else – the boy who sat a row ahead of you in some general biology course you’d tacked on for an easy credit. He’d asked to borrow a pen once or twice. You’d never bothered to learn his name.

Ajax followed your line of sight, chuckling when he saw what’d stolen your attention away. He seemed to soften, squeezing your jaw one more time before pulling away, drawing back and toward the near stranger. “Stephan Zheng. He asked for your number two weeks ago, tried to say it was for some ‘study group’ – as if anyone would be dumb enough to believe that shit.” He laughed, again, but the noise was more strained, less affectionate. “It’s guys like this that really make me sick. I can take the boys and girls that constantly hover around you, at least they know how to keep their distance. Bastards who want to touch what’s not theirs, I just—” He set his jaw, growling from behind clenched teeth before clenching his eyes shut and inhaling sharply. “I’m not asking for a lot, just a little common decency. That’s pretty reasonable, right?”

It took you a long moment to respond, to remember how to use your tongue. “Ajax, did you do that to him?”

“Oh, no, sweetheart. I didn’t hurt anybody.” He turned away from you, taking up a rusted box-cutter. “I tortured him. And, eventually, I’m gonna make sure he never bothers us again.”

Your breath hitched as he moved towards the stranger, but he didn’t try to drive the short blade into his captive’s chest or add to the countless gaping wounds he’d already carved. Rather, he cut away the makeshift restraints, slicing through tape and rope and letting the stranger collapse to the floor, completely limp, completely vulnerable. Ajax remained unfazed, just wrapping his fist around the stranger’s neck and hauling him off the ground and toward one of the hanging hooks – this one shined and spotless, yet to be stained.

There was a slick, sickening piercing sound – metal plunging into meat, straining to penetrate muscle and scraping against bone in a way that made your teeth ache behind your lips. There was a final, shuttering breath from the stranger as the hook’s point emerged just below his collarbone before going limp, his swollen eyes barely open, his chest still. Agonizingly still.

You felt bile rise into the back of your throat. Your vision blurred, your shoulders dropping as you lurched forward, your consciousness threatening to blot out and leave you as helpless as the fresh corpse swaying just a few feet away. You felt yourself start to shake, but even that was distant – your body acting without your consent. If Ajax recognized your panic, he didn’t seem to care. There was a dull, hollow sound as he rummaged through the displaced tools on his worktable, a low coo, and then he was next to you, a sledgehammer with a broken, splintering grip in his dominant hand. “Deep breaths, baby, deep breaths.” He kneeled, bringing himself down to your height. Once again, his hand was on your cheek, thumb running over your jaw as he went on. “He’s all taken care of, alright? It’s just the two of us, now.”

“I don’t—” You didn’t know what was happening. You didn’t know what he was doing. You didn’t know who he was. You didn’t know how the man standing in front of you could be Ajax; sweet, oblivious Ajax, who always stood a little too close and laughed a little too loudly and tipped a little too much whenever he took you out for breakfast the morning after a late study session or one of the disgusting frat parties he’d drag you to. Ajax, who liked to joke about making you his spoiled trophy husband whenever you failed an exam or complained about your constantly rising rent. Ajax, who’d willingly been your shoulder to cry on every time another friend dropped out, or moved away, or just suddenly stopped talking to you without warning. Ajax, who’d just smile when you asked about his shady, ever-changing job and tell you not to worry your pretty little head about what he did when he wanted to get his hands dirty.

It was hard to breathe, hard to think about anything but his name and the copper slowly sinking into the tissue of your lungs. Still, you tried to pull yourself together, to flatten your voice into something comprehensible, to sound half as irrationally calm as he did. “I… Did you kill him?”

There was a soft hum by way of confirmation, another swipe of his thumb over your cheek. “I just roughed him up a little. If he died, it’s just because he’s too weak to take what he deserves.”

For a long moment, you were quiet.

Then, shifting against the pole, you looked downward, to the floor between your legs; the concrete dusted with stains so dry and so dark, they couldn’t have been made that day. “Ajax,” you said, again, drawing out his name into something pleading. “I think I have to leave, now.”

He was quiet for a few seconds, too.

Then, he laughed, and something cracked in your chest. Slowly, he leaned into you, his chapped lips barely brushing against yours before he fell lower, pressing a lingering kiss into the corner of your jaw, then the curve of your throat. “I thought you’d say something like that,” he muttered, as he finally pulled away. “Don’t worry, it’ll only hurt for a few seconds.”

You watched from a distance as he pushed himself to his feet, taking up his sledgehammer. The blow itself was precise, practiced; too quick and too effective not to be something he’d done a thousand times. For a second, as the steel head crashed into your ankle, there was only static numbness; vague pins and needles and the awareness that there should’ve been pain and that pain should’ve been unimaginable. Your mouth fell open, Ajax’s whispered nothings was flattened into a muted buzz, and for a long moment, it was all you could do to stare at your own foot and try to figure out why it was able to bend that way.

Then, he brought his hammer down on your other, uninjured leg, and you screamed.

It seemed to go on for minutes, hours, days. The world was just you, the pure agony racing up both your legs, and the sound of your own voice; ragged and desperate, pleading and cursing and tearing at your lungs until you couldn’t feel anything but the slight tinge of hurt at the back of your throat and a second heartbeat racing in your ears. You thrashed against the pole, kicking out with your useless legs, but Ajax only responded with a throaty laugh, letting his weapon fall out of his hold and dropping back to your height, straddling your thighs and taking your face in both of his hands. He didn’t shy away from your lips, this time. This kiss was brutal, animalistic – his teeth crashing against yours as he drank down the sounds of your pain, moaning against your lips in response. His hips rolled against yours, and you were forced to acknowledge the weight of his cock pressing into your stomach – already straining against the material of his pants. You recoiled on instinct, but Ajax only sunk further into you. “Feel that?” He asked, his voice little more than a raspy whisper. “That’s what you do to me. That’s how much I love you.”

“You’re sick.” You were whispering, too, suddenly too weak and too shocked to do anything else. “You can’t— You have to let me go, this isn’t—”

“As if you’d get anywhere on those legs.” Feverishly, jerkily, he was dragging his shirt over his head, smearing gore along grey fabric as he tore off his blood-stained apron and the rest of his clothes, never letting himself put more than a foot of distance between your body and his. Never dropping that awful, bloodthirsty grin. “I’ve been thinking about this since the day we fucking met. You don’t know how much I wanted to—”

He broke off, pausing just long enough to take your dick in his hand. You tried to tell yourself that it was just the adrenaline, that the loose coil beginning to form in the pit of your stomach was just gnawing dread, but your body was a stripped nerve; every sensation dialed up to its maximum capacity, every touch cutting through your skin and making contact with something more delicate, much more vulnerable that laid beneath your flesh. You could feel the humidity of his breath as it fanned over your throat, the stifling warmth of his chest against yours. You could feel the heel of his palm, calloused and rough, as it ground into your base, and the tightness of grip as his fingers wrapped around your cock. “If I wasn’t so nice, I would’ve pinned you down on the floor of that fucking lecture hall and sucked you dry. But, I wanted our first time to be special.” He pressed a wet, open-mouthed kiss into the side of your neck. “I was hoping you’d crack if I picked off enough of your little friends, but you were just so stubborn. If I didn’t know better, I might’ve gotten it into my head that you just didn’t like me.”

You grit your teeth, clenched your eyes, but there was nothing you could do to stop yourself from hardening against his palm, your body desperate for any scrap of mercy he would show you. Raw agony burnt in your veins, twisting around your ribs and pushing everything below your ankles to an unfeeling distance, but a small, burgeoning warmth writhed beneath it; a unique kind of torture in its own right. You jerked against your bondage, and when that failed, you forced yourself to grimace, to turn away and will yourself not to react to him. It was an effort made in vain, though. Ajax knew what he was doing, even if he was only using his hand, even if he chose not to act like it; toying with you, swiping the pad of his thumb over your flushed head and grinding the heel of his palm into the underside of your cock, keeping you sensitive while making sure to withhold any kind of stimulation that’d actually tip you over the edge. When your fragile composure started to crack, when the first distorted whimper slipped past your lips despite your best efforts, he pulled back abruptly, drawing a jagged whine from the back of your throat. His apology came in the form of a lingering kiss pressed into your collarbone, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Just give me a few seconds,” he said as he moved back, leaning into you. “Been dying to make you cum on my face since I got a look at what you’ve been hiding from me. Don’t have time for that now, but I think my poor heart might break if I don’t get a taste.”

You didn’t have time to ask what he meant before your cock was in his mouth, shoved past his lips with no reluctance or hesitation. You felt his nose hit your pelvis, his throat constricting around your cock, but Ajax had always been dauntless, and now, he was using all that courage and all that arrogance to choke on your length, saliva and pre-cum dripping from the corners of his mouth. It was less of an effort to get you off and more of a prolonged attempt to suffocate himself – his blunt nails burrowing into your hips as he held you still, pinning you underneath him and giving him the time to fall into a half-coherent rhythm, to sloppily bob his head and curl his tongue around your cock. You tried to shut your eyes, to block out what you could and ignore what you couldn’t, but he was just so warm, and messy, and loud – groaning and mewling, constantly drawing your attention towards him, towards the violation of your body.

It was careless, and it was grotesque, and your body drank in every scrap of sick pleasure. It took so much of your depleted strength to stop your hips from bucking into his mouth, to stop your mangled legs from twitching underneath him, that you almost didn’t notice when something warm and viscous seeped against the side of your thigh. Without having to open your eyes, you knew what it was, and you knew what it meant when Ajax pulled away from you, pressing a wet kiss into the inside of your thigh before swiping two fingers through the trail of blood. You watched him, dead-eyed and vacant, as he spread himself open with his blood-soaked digits, every movement too rushed to come across as anything but feral, too rough to be the first time he’d fucked himself that day. You didn’t know which reality would’ve been more disturbing – one where Ajax was just that masochistic, just that willing to hurt himself if it meant hurting you, too, or the alternative, the one where the anticipation had been too much, where Ajax hadn’t been able to wait until he had you at his mercy. You didn’t know which would haunt you more, when the pain reached to your head and you inevitably lost consciousness again.

It wouldn’t take very long. Ajax was too careless, too clumsy as he wrapped his legs around your waist, stringing one arm around your neck while he used his free hand to position your cock against his ass. You clenched your eyes shut, twisted as far from him as you could get, but it was already too late – tears, ugly and searing, were already streaming down your cheeks, a ragged sob tearing past your lips as you felt your cock push into him. Ajax slid back onto you without hesitation, only pausing when you bottomed out to coo and bury his face in the crook of your neck before raising his head, before dragging his tongue from the edge of your jaw to the space just under your eye. “I know, I know, I’m just as happy as you are,” he murmured, when he was done, his tone almost gentle. “And I love you, too.”

The words remained on his tongue, repeated in airy whispers and hitched moans, forming a faltering mantra as he started to move – rolling his hips, fucking himself with your overly-sensitive cock like you were some breathing, sobbing toy. Your own vocalizations were less sentimental, a near-incoherent string of stifled cursing and pointless begging just to make it stop. It was a losing battle, if you could even compare it to a real fight. He was tight, and warm, and his eyes burnt into yours; half-lidded but twice as intense as such lifeless blue should’ve been. Your body was his to mold, his to toy with, and he seemed to want to play with you as violently as he could. He seemed to take a special kind of joy in choking cracked gasps and fractured moans out of you, in clenching down around your length and sucking throbbing hickeys into your throat and never letting you escape the sound of skin against skin, the heavy scent of sex and sweat and so, so much blood. Involuntarily, humiliatingly, you felt yourself twitch inside of him, and somehow, Ajax’s pace grew even more unsteady, more sporadic. “Pl-Fuck, please,” he plead, his voice as airy as it was eager. One of his hands fell between your body and his, pumping over his own cock as aggressively as he was fucking himself on yours. “Fill me up. Breed me. Please, please, knock me—”

Anything he might’ve said cut out into a throaty groan, and in a last-ditch effort to save what little pride you had left, you tore your attention away from Ajax, let it skirt over blood-splattered cement before finding what you couldn’t seem to avoid; the stranger hanging on the other side of the cellar, fresh blood still dripping from the ragged hole in his chest. It was all you could do to stare at him, for a long moment, unable to move, unable to think.

Then, his eyes shuttered open, glassy pupils flickering towards you, and you came undone inside of Ajax in an instant.

With a sharp cry and a hitched breath, he buckled into you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and rocking his hips until he fractured just as suddenly as you had – his climax following yours by barely a fraction of a second. You felt his cum, thick and burning, paint the flesh of your stomach, his teeth sink into your shoulder one more time before he straightened his back, his tongue lolling past his lips as he panted. He looked like he wanted to keep going, to keep draining you of all things good and vital, but your body was already screaming in protest, the pain already setting back in – racing through your form with a vicious sort of resentment. Reluctantly, Ajax pried himself away from you, and you were distantly aware of the rope around your wrists falling away, something soft wrapping around your body, Ajax’s laugh as he lifted you into his arms, as you melted against his chest, unable to do anything else. You thought, to yourself, that you’d be relieved if you never heard that sound again. You thought that it must’ve gotten worse, after he’d knocked you out.

You would’ve noticed if his laugh was always that terrible.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. You can get a little rest.” His voice was just as awful, dripping with just as much cruelty. If you’d had a little more resolve, you might’ve tried to shove him away, to make a token effort at resistance.

If you’d been a little stronger, you would’ve been able to do anything but close your eyes and hope he’d be the Ajax you remembered, when you woke up.

“I’ll be right here to take care of you, when you wake up.”