#INKY IT WAS A BIT IT GOT OUT OF HAND ONE TIME
Note
Important question. Why do you have a doppelganger who roleplays almost exclusively with various Jimmy solidarity sexuality Tumblr accounts. Also why are they menacingly holding a crossbar and staring at me
IM FUCKING CRYING
#INKY IT WAS A BIT IT GOT OUT OF HAND ONE TIME#I HAD TO KEEP ESCALATING IT#bree barks so fucking loud#This is the second time someone has asked me about the crowbar account. Apparently it pops up first???#asks#im sorry you had to see the crowbar account. Losing my tumblr anxiety was a bad idea inky ive done so much shit these past few months
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so… about that drink you ordered — boothill
summary. boothill has a pity party at a bar and notices a familiar face that he wants to smash into two.
notes. sort of requested official unofficial sequel sort of to hijacked. you can read this stand alone. not saying you should, though. teehee. this is so uninspired. i just like this concept a lot. i also just like rivals to lovers. i’m also riding on the coattails of the “boothill is largely illiterate.” whether it’s actually canon or not who knows. let me be. he’s still not released LMAOOOO.
warnings. the usual banter, little bit of threatening, but nothing major.
Boothill was at a loss. The mission was a bust, there was no response from La Mancha, and the dreamscape was beginning to grind his gears. So many loud noises, the poster signs were following him around, and this so-called SoulGlad was not as good as it was advertised to be.
This bar sucked, too. The bartender had been giving him the stink eye for the better half of an hour now. It probably wasn’t appropriate to sick him right in the face for it, break his nose, and give him a beating.
The bartender wasn’t scrawny, though. Some big bulk of meat with tired eyes, scruff and mousy brown hair. His chest looked like it was about to pop the buttons of his vest. Dude looks absolutely repressed. Probably works minimum wage.
The bartender abandons a blue inky pen and his notebook that Boothill snoops in. Nothing interesting. Just pages of tabs and tabs of people he doesn’t know, nor care about.
There’s music from the stereos in the corners, though surprisingly, considering it’s not a club—that one is next door. It’s a conjoined building. The only thing seperating the bar and the VIP private rooms of the club is a wall and a locked door. Comforting—and Boothill would have lost his mind already.
It’s also dark. Granted, it’s two in the morning, but the low lights can’t be good for normal people. Not to mention the group of women in the corner that have been hoarding the few slot machines for about thirty minutes now.
Every so often, a chime will go off, and one of them will start busting into tears.
He’s here alone. Not for any particular reason. He’s waiting for a response from somebody, and what better way to pass the time than people watch and pretend he’s not nosy.
Also he feels super important sitting at the counter of the bar.
He almost jumps at a whisper in his ear.
A reddish drink in a ribbed coupe glass is gently dropped onto the counter space beside him. There’s a cucumber slice on the rim, and it also looks like it’s been dusted with sugar.
Boothill turns his nose up. Gross.
The bartender glances at the figure who slots into the seat next to the ranger. “Can I get you something else?”
“Hard whiskey.”
Huh. His eyes snapped to the right. Very familiar. Almost unnervingly so. Just in case, he scoots himself away by an inch, sitting closer to the edge of the barstool.
The bartender blinks, unsure as he pulls a tumbler from the rack. “For you?”
A finger prods the Ranger’s cheek. “For him.”
There’s a zap from the finger, like a small electric shock. Like static charged from the friction of the weird material of the barstools.
“Thanks, Gal.”
“No amount of flirting is gonna make me clear your tab,” Gallagher warned before sliding the whiskey over to the Ranger. Boothill had barely moved, now acutely aware of his own face plastered on a wanted poster behind the bartender’s head. “Try not showin’ up here frequently. Bad for my image if I keep serving crooks.” He points to the Ranger, and then to you. “Both of you.”
The bartender then is called over by a group of women who are giggling at a booth in the corner.
Boothill was sure he was going to lean forward and scrap with you over the counter. He could already feel the terse skin of your neck in his hands.
“You followin’ me?”
“You followed me first,” you say harshly.
The ranger let out a laugh before picking up his drink. “It was only a job. If you got offended, that’s your problem.” He then holds the glass close. “You g’nna do that thing again?”
“‘Thing?’” you repeated.
There was a smug grin on your face. You rested the chin in the palm of your hand.
Oh. He was so going to throw you over the counter and smash a bottle over your head. “Y’know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Don’t play stupid.”
You took a sip of your drink.
“Boop.”
Your finger pressed to his chest. You snickered when he stared down at the brief flashing of yellow beneath his joints.
Then, you flit your finger upwards and flick his nose.
He grabs your hand with the intent of pulling it from its socket.
“Now, that’s a dangerous game to play,” you remind him. “I’ve got you in my hands, remember?” Your free hand lets go of your glass, and there’s a small flash of yellow light on the pads of the gloves on your hands. A flicker is all it takes to showcase his entire makeup in your palm. You spin it slowly for good measure.
Then, the image disappears and you snatch your wrist from his hand.
“What do you want?” Boothill mutters. He’s absentmindedly staring into his drink while swishing it around. The ice cubes softly tap against the glass.
“Insight. You’re a Galaxy Ranger, right?” He can’t lie to you anyway. You pretty much know everything about him. Your main profession is definitely stalking and being a thorn in his side. Your fingers held his chin up softly. “Tell me about it.”
He blinks, dazed. “That’s it?”
“No.”
He removes your hand from his chin. He holds his glass protectively. “Then quit pullin’ my leg. Cut to the good bit.”
You sigh. “You’re no fun. Do you come to bars just to mope?” You pull a dramatic frown for good measure.
“Do you come to bars to piss everyone off?” he shoots back. Despite his tone, his fingers are gentle around the glass. Any more firm a hold, and the drink would shatter and spill all over the counter.
You grin.
You tap his nose again. “Just you.” Then, you shake your head. “I’m here ‘cause I got a bar crush.” You then point to a table behind Boothill’s head in the corner. “Blondie with the nice eyes and the rings.”
After a moment's hesitation, the ranger turns and follows your finger.
Sure enough, you’re not convincing him to spin around so you can shove your hand into his sockets. There is a blond man at a table dressed in green, winking at an opponent over a game of… poker? Is that poker? The game with the chips and stuff. And dice, too. They’re thrown over a board, and there’s a couple of people who have tuned in to watch the entire thing unfold.
“His name is Aventurine. Or, that’s a code name, I think. He’s Sigonian. Works for the IPC, incredibly insecure, has a gambling addiction, needs to eat lead…” You stopped short, counting on your fingers as Boothill turns back to you. “Isn’t he dreamy?”
Boothill narrows his eyes at you. “Do you know everything about everyone?”
You shrug. “Pretty much, yeah.” Then, you make a noise. “Eh, I’m lying. Lots of people are boring. I only know the basics ‘bout most of ‘em. It’s the higher ups I’m interested in. Case in point–” You gestured to the blond man again, now scanning over his cards. “–Mister Big Shot. And all his loser coworkers. I don’t like the IPC.”
Boothill quietly sips his drink.
At least you can both agree on something.
He wants to yawn. He doesn’t have the function to do that anymore.
You talk too much.
He cuts you off, and fiddles with a few buttons on his arm. “What can you tell me–” A small image of a woman projects into view from a small lens near his wrist. “–About her?”
You lean closer to the image. Pretty.
She has lovely purple hair and eyes to match. It’s an unassuming photo. She’s not even looking at the camera, not even close to it. She’s standing next to a little boy with sparkling eyes and a uniform that starkly resembles the hotel staff in the waking world of Penacony—oh, the bellboy. You forgot his name.
You hum. “What’s her name?”
“Acheron.” He spits it nastily, as if tasting vitriol on his tongue.
You lean back against the counter. “I’d have to dig deeper. Can’t say I’ve seen her around before.”
“Well, that’s disappointin’,” he huffs before the image shrinks and disappears back into the lens. “Thought you were better than that.”
Your brows knit together.
“Are you trying to rile me up?” It was working. Curse you and your hot-head. It would get you killed one day.
Boothill grins.
Then, he raises his glass to you. “Yep.”
You wanted to pull him apart right there, like a doll.
Instead, you whisper, “tell me about La Mancha.”
Boothill casually sips the whiskey. “What’s in it for me?”
“I’ll dig up whatever I can find about that Acheron girl.”
Boothill then lets out a small giggle. “I already know who she is.” He wasn’t lying either. You could tell by how he grinned. “I was testin’ ya.”
Oh, great. He’s figured you out again. Not that there’s much to decode beneath the layer of self-doubt and hostility.
You could feel your face burning.
He grabs your cheeks before you can turn away.
“You ain’t here ‘cause you got some ‘puppy crush,’” he accused playfully, squishing your skin like it’s clay. “You already told me ya know everything about blondie. Who’re you really here for?”
He’s not stupid.
He’s also twirling a lock of his hair around his finger.
God damnit.
Your fingers curled tightly around the rim of your glass. The cucumber slice has since fallen into the cosmopolitan, and it’s giving the entire drink a strange watery taste.
The bar carries on. There’s a hoot from the table with blondie, who’s now, since the last time you stared daggers into the side of his head, collected some more of his poor opponent’s chips.
You pull your face from his grip. “Nobody.”
“Not even me?” Boothill presses. “You seem to love followin’ me around. In and out the dreamscape.”
You grit your teeth.
“The bartender,” you mutter finally. “I’m here for the bartender.” Currently, Gallagher is half asleep on the other side of the counter, trying to negotiate with some drunkard over the pricing of a scotch.
You eye him warily for a moment.
“There it is.” He pats your head like a dog. “Knew you’d come ‘round, pumpkin.”
You’re trembling with rage. “Kiss my ass, you cyborg scum.” You were considering throwing a punch at his perfect face.
“Rude.” Boothill flicks your nose back and you grunt. “I’m tryin’ to be nice wit’ you. You followed me here.”
You wanted to leave now. He sucks when he knows he has the upper hand, even if he’s well aware you can make his arms tear his own head off.
But you’re not going to do that. You need him. You made that clear.
The sound of a slot machine goes off somewhere to the right. There's cheering from a bunch of women.
You turn back and stare at the wall of liquor behind the bar. Maybe you should just knock yourself out. Whether by downing an entire bottle of bourbon or smashing it over your head. It was a hard choice to make.
You watch him through your peripherals, noticing he’s pinched a napkin from the pile on the counter.
“Lookin’ very pretty tonight, by the way. Hard to keep my eyes off ya.” He was writing something down with the pen from before. “If you were anyone else, I woulda had to take ya home. ‘Specially after ya bought me a drink.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Then, you pause. “Excuse me?”
Boothill folds the napkin into a square and holds it to your lips. “Open.”
“You are not–”
Too late. He’s pushed it to your teeth, and you instinctively clamp down on it.
Oh, this sucks. This sucks bad.
He knows it, too, from the way he’s grinning at you like a shark and snickering.
He presses his warm lips to your cheek. The scent of whiskey faintly wafts in the air.
You stupidly freeze, hands curled around his wrists when his cold hands tilt your head so the tip of his tongue can press to the corner of your lips. You could stop him. You could.
You didn’t.
You smell like strawberry, the same as that other night. You look just as good, too. Shame you haven’t put anything on your lips. He would’ve loved to be stained a nice pink again.
He slides his whiskey next to you.
Then, he finishes what’s left of your drink. Dickhead. “I’ll be ‘round if ya need me.” He taps your nose and stands up. “You know where to find me.”
With a tilt of his hat, he leaves.
You pull the napkin from your teeth. Are you serious?
Face burning with humiliation, you hastily unfold the tissue, fingers shaking around the glass of whiskey. It’s heavy on your tongue; disgusting, bitter, everything you’d use to describe that stupid cowboy and his abomination of a body.
Scrawled in blue ink is a line of numbers. It looked suspiciously like a phone number.
Below it in blocky letters are the words: Keep In touc H. ♡
There’s a crudely drawn horse with a hat in the corner.
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If you are taking reqs for fics, you should totally do one where reader is sore from training or something else(😏) and Miguel offers to massage readers legs, in which turns into him eating reader out!
Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader
Summary: Miguel insists on helping you stretch out your hamstrings.
Warnings: 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Mature Content, Mutual Pining, Sassy Miguel, Persuasion, Power Dynamics, Dom Miguel, Touch-Starved Reader, Avoidant Reader, Thigh Stretching, Thigh Riding, Thigh Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Miguel Using His Nose *Creatively*
Word Count: 1.7k
Notes: I hope you like this, Nonny! It got a way from me a bit:)
Read my other MIGUEL stories!
“You’re doing it wrong.” His voice is slick like oil as it spreads through the air and into your ears, coating you in its deliciously dark warmth as he approaches you from behind.
“Oh really?” You keep your palms pressed against the wall as that warmth intensifies, stretching the muscles in your calf as you feel the heat from his breath reach the back of your neck. “How so?”
“You’ve been groaning every time you stand up from your chair.” The weight of the mat beneath your feet shifts and bends with each step he takes toward you until he stops just a few inches short, inhaling a little longer than normal before speaking again. “That stretch isn’t going to help your hamstrings any.”
“No?” You keep your back to him, switching legs before continuing your usual stretches to ease your well-earned muscle pain. “Maybe my calves hurt, did you ever think about that?”
“I can help with those, too.” That dark, inky tambre oozes itself around your body, dripping down your torso and into your core as his words blow a few strands of hair away from your shoulder.
It’s only a matter of seconds now before he touches you, before that black abyss takes you under completely; rendering you helpless against his charm that you’ve been trying to ignore these past few weeks. Those innocent looks he stole from you across the room had quickly morphed into longing gazes that kept you up at night, spurning a fire inside that could only be stoked by one thing. You wonder if being submerged in this desire with him is something that could put this flame out for good; or if succumbing to your primal urges would only ignite this chemical reaction into a combustion impossible to recover from.
“By mansplaining my own stretches to me?” You bring yourself out of your own head and lean further into the wall, extending your muscle in a slow, aching release as he stands still behind you.
“I’m not…” he trails off, backing away only slightly. “I’m not mansplaining.”
“Really?” You finally turn to face him and notice that instead of his usual red and blue suit, he’s wearing shorts and a tank top to match your own. A fresh stain of sweat dampens the worn down collar that stretches across his muscular chest, testing your resolve even further as you try to keep your cool with a casual wink. “What would you call it then, huh?”
You turn to walk away from him, stopping only as he instinctively grabs hold of your arm in a quick attempt to keep you near. He steals another glance, stalling your departure with a gentle tug back in his direction, only this one lasts a little longer than those before it. This one allows you to see the varying colors of red, brown and black in his eyes as they carefully study your face, matching the color of that dark, salacious fluid that reaches the very tips of your toes and glues your feet to the ground.
Uh oh.
Now you’re sinking.
“You’re touching me,” you point out, glancing down at his hand before looking back up at his gorgeous face.
“Do you want me to stop?” The boldness of his question forces you to inhale as his fingers encircle your wrist, his calloused fingertips sending a rush of warmth up your arm as they gently pull you in even closer.
Well, do you?
“No,” you whisper, barely able to recognize your own voice as the word allows him to trace his way up your forearm. “No, I don’t,” you clarify.
“Then what do you want?” He asks again, his voice dropping an octave as it vibrates in his chest.
You shiver in silence as his thumb nestles into the crook of your arm, grazing back and forth over its delicate skin like a pendulum, raising the tiny hairs on your skin as he awaits your answer. His lips are closer than they’d ever been before, full and parted as you allow him to alter your center of gravity with another gentle pull. You’re close enough now to smell his sweat as it mixes in with the sandalwood of his cologne, that intoxicating concoction making it that much harder for you to resist sinking down any further.
“I want you to touch me.” You finally give in, figuring you have nothing left to lose with his breath now hot on your cheek. “I want you to keep touching me.”
“Good,” he smirks as if that’s all he’s been waiting for, nodding his head toward the space behind you. “Now get on the mat, flat on your back.”
Like one of his new recruits you follow his orders blindly, surrendering to this inevitable seduction as you cautiously lay down at his feet.
“Now, I know you’re allergic to accepting help from anyone else, but you’re holding back when you stretch, you know that?” He wastes no time in taking your foot into his hand before pushing your leg up toward you, straightening it out just enough to make you wince. “That’s why you’re still groaning every time you stand up.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” you laugh, trying to ignore his pelvis as it presses against you, stretching your inner thigh out even more than you were capable of doing by yourself. You groan again as he pushes your body to its limit, his palm snug against your calf as he extends it up to the level of your head, pinning your opposite thigh in place with his hip. You hiss as a sharp pain quickly follows, shooting its way up the synapses of your largest muscle as he continues to splay you apart.
“Miguel,” you stifle a whimper as he grins, a glint of his fangs showing as that pain burns its way through the rest of that muscle group.
“Oh, it’s gonna hurt before it feels better, mami,” he goads, stretching you out even further as his pelvis grinds against yours, the evidence of his arousal more than damning.
“I know, I just…” You pause as the expression on his chiseled features changes from playful to knowing, his endlessly dark eyes glancing down at your junction before looking back up at your face.
“You’re soaking wet.” He keeps his hand on your leg while snaking the other between you two, testing the polyester layer of your shorts for the moisture that you both know is there.
Words fail as your jaw falls open in disbelief, that smug look on his face interrupted only by a strand of hair falling in front of his eyes as he touches you.
“I know you’ve been trying to hide it for as long as you can, mami.” He rubs your swollen lips up and down over the cloth, forcing that all encompassing heat to burn like molten hot lava deep inside your core. “But I can smell it on you the second you walk into a room; the change in your hormones, the sweetness of your sweat, and even this.”
You moan pathetically as he pulls your shorts to the side, sliding his fingers beneath them to collect your juices and spread them up and down your length. “No panties either, huh? Turns out I was right about you.”
“Jesus, Miguel,” you plead, grasping onto his forearm just to make sure that he stays close enough to keep kindling your flame.
“Your body’s never gonna lie to me about what it wants.” He leans down and pushes his fingers inside of you, grinning against your ear as you nod helplessly in agreement. “No matter how hard you fucking try.”
He presses his thumb against your clit while kissing his way down your neck, shoulder and knee as he continues to hold your leg in its prolonged stretch. His hungry lips leave a delicious trail down the bottom of your thigh that grows more sensitive as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your burning desire with such delicate ease only he could bring forth.
“There’s no way you’re gonna relax enough for this stretch to work,” he teases. “Not like this, anyways.”
He kisses the skin around your hips, releasing his grip on your leg just enough to let it fall onto his shoulder as he lowers himself down your body. “Now, if only there was a way I could get you to relax...” He looks up at you with nearly blackened eyes, reminding you of that onyx slick as it mixes with the sparks and embers his fingers send into your core before he licks a stripe up your dripping wet center.
Without another word, he parts your folds with his nose before tasting your inner layer, savoring the mere taste of your scent as he rubs his face all over it like a warrior with his paint. He allows himself to get lost in your unique flavor, marking himself with your sex as he all but forgets to hold onto your thigh as his tongue traces over every inch of your lower lips. His mouth encompasses you entirely as his fingers continue to work inside you, pumping spark after spark of pleasure up into the molten core of your body before drenching your swollen bud in his sensual spit.
You find yourself running your fingers through his auburn locks as he takes your clit between his teeth, licking and sucking on it with eyes fixated only on you as your hips rock in tandem with the rhythm of his wrist. His fingers pound deep inside you as he hums against your bud, brushing against that bundle of nerves until that flame inside you finally bursts into an eruption of ecstasy you’d never even thought possible. Every nerve in your body ignites in a series of blissful explosions, catching fire the more he devours your raw flesh until you’re crying out and violently shaking beneath him, completely combusted.
That pain in your thigh seems to disappear entirely as a healing wave of warmth coats your skin and muscles, vibrating in your bones as he moans his approval into your well spent sex with one last lick.
“I think that oughta do it.”
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x reader#oscar isaac#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara fan fiction#marvel#spiderman 2099
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Trailer park Steve AU part 61
part 1 | part 60 | ao3
cw: mentions of canonical minor character death
Chapter 14
It's twilight by the time they make their way to Rick's place — gnat clouds swarming, sun dipped low, Lover's Lake an inky smudge beyond the blur of passing pines. Steve’s not totally sure how they got here, this dusty service road that's more pothole than pavement; one minute he's bitching about doomed love and double VHS, the next he’s taking the scenic route to a drug den.
There were some important moments in between, he’s pretty sure.
He’s also pretty sure he blacked out somewhere around the moment the morning news reported that an-unidentified-Hawkins-student-who-very-well-could-be-Eddie-Munson was found dead in his fucking trailer.
Kinda difficult to resurface from that one.
Feels like his soul’s got swimmer’s ear.
Even hours later — after Dustin and Max burst into Family Video talking a mile a minute about how Eddie was alive and they needed to use the phones; after Ernie stupidly gave a reporter Steve’s name, swearing up and down on the TV that his neighbor Steve Harrington was an upstanding young man who would never do something like this; after they spent an agonizingly long afternoon lying low and taking backroads to avoid the cops because the cops probably suspect Steve of murder now, oh god—
“It’s this next right up ahead,” Max says from the back seat. There's a map spread over the bench between her and Dustin, and Steve blinks himself awake; gives her a nod in the rearview.
Beside her, Dustin’s munching on Twizzlers he stole from the store — window down, easy slouch, just way too chipper for the situation at hand. "So Steve," he says conversationally, "now that you're a fugitive, does that mean—?"
Steve cuts Robin a pleading look.
Robin reaches back and smacks the little twerp upside the head.
"Ow!" Dustin whines.
"Shut up, please," Robin smiles.
Max makes a sound like she's trying not to laugh and checks the map again. "Right here," she says, pointing. "After that weird tree stump."
They turn onto another road that could be generously described as paved, once, several decades ago, and eventually, the winding path lets out onto a slightly nicer street. Aging but cared for, Holland Road is a crowded row of little lake houses, trailers and shacks with manicured shrubs and chipped fence paint, weeds growing through the sidewalks beneath pristine American flags. Steve pulls into the driveway of #2121.
It looks abandoned. Dark inside and out, a truck parked on the curb that's likely been there for a while, its tires sagging in a mulch of old wet leaves. There’s an autumn wreath on the front door.
“You sure this is the place?” he asks as they climb out of the car.
Max sasses him for questioning her navigation skills, Dustin unsuccessfully tries to land a revenge slap on Robin — a move that earns him a retaliation wedgie and a wrestling match he was never gonna win — and Steve pops the trunk and feels a hundred years old. Feels every bit the exhausted dad trying to keep the family road trip together as he grabs his nail bat and slings his duffel over his shoulder.
"You planning to spend the night?" Dustin teases from Robin's armpit, still bent double where she's got him in a headlock.
"No, just-" he drops the bag at their feet with a grunt, “doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”
Dustin’s eyes bug out. “Is that a can of goddamn bear mace?”
“Keep your voice down!” Steve hisses.
“You keep your voice down!”
"Should I just go ahead and choke him out?" Robin offers.
Steve considers it for a second: knock 'em all out, stuff 'em back inside the car. Go do this shit quietly by himself.
He rolls his eyes and puts his hands on his hips.
"You're no fun," she pouts, but she lets Dustin go.
Dustin grabs flashlights and walkies out of the bag, passes them around the circle. They take a moment to steel themselves — huddled together in the dark, shoulders tense, the creepy house looming ahead. Sharp shadows stretch toward them. Croaking sounds creeping from the edges of the lake.
Robin puts her flashlight under her chin like she's about to tell a scary story. "Alright, kiddos," she says in a deep, ominous voice. "Let's go rescue Steve's ex."
Stunned silence in the sudden vacuum her words create. Steve lets out a tired sigh. Dustin’s jaw is on the curb.
“His WHAT?” Dustin shouts.
Oh, my god. “He’s not my ex."
Robin rolls her eyes and says ‘sure’ under her breath, and Max turns to Dustin, laughing. “You didn’t know they were a thing?”
“We’re not—” Steve tries again.
“What were you trying to get them back together for then?”
She seems genuinely curious. Dustin seems three seconds from spontaneous combustion. “What was I WHAT?!” he yelps, limbs everywhere. Reminds Steve of Eddie so bad it hurts.
“Okay,” Steve interrupts, clapping them both on the shoulder; drops his voice to a harsh whisper. “In case you two forgot, we’re here to rescue Eddie.”
“Who you’re dating.”
Dustin’s voice is small, disconnected, his gaze far away. Like he’s shellshocked.
“Jesus Christ.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “I— Yes. No. It’s complicated.”
Max snorts at his answer, Dustin makes a series of faces like he's gonna need seven years to process, and Robin interrupts his crisis by waving her flashlight like a traffic guard, walking backward up the hill as she directs them toward the house.
“Why don’t we just go find him first?” she suggests, making a rainbow with her hands, flinging light through the grimy windows. “And then Stevie here can answer alllll your big gay questions.”
Steve glares at Robin. Dustin glares at him, narrowed eyes for a full ten seconds like 'yeah, you fucking better,' and then he takes off up the driveway hollering Eddie's name.
—
part 62
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
#trailer park steve au#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#max mayfield#dustin henderson#reefer rick#my writing#my fic
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FaceTime Fun
18+ MDNI
Pairing✩࿐Fem!Reader X Megumi Fushiguro
WARNINGS✩࿐Fem!Reader Giving oral, cream pie, rough fucking, fingering, little bit of chocking.
Word count✩࿐3.8K
BONUS✩࿐A jealous Megumi
Summary✩࿐The Fem!Reader is in a relationship with Megumi Fushiguro and he can’t stand Itadori’s constant flirting with his girlfriend. So he decides to show Yuji who the reader actually belongs to (through a FaceTime call)
A/N✩࿐This was a request I couldn’t refuse! 💕 Thanks for the sexy idea madness-puppy
“Yuji! Stop!” You gasped out between giggles as he tickled you relentlessly.
“No way! You’ve got the cutest laugh Y/n…” Itadori beamed down at you, as his quick fingers moved along your sides. The both of you rolled around in the grass, play fighting. Your friend was able to pin you down easily, holding one of your arms firmly while he tickled you. You helplessly tried to push him off but amid your laughter that was deemed impossible.
The two of you got paired up to do combat training outside, but things took an unpredictable turn. Yuji always managed to get you to smile whenever he was around. You felt fortunate to be friends with Itadori since he’s your boyfriend’s good friend.
Little did you know, Fushiguro was standing uphill observing the situation with rage boiling up within himself. Megumi was fuming at the sight of you and Yuji wrestling around in the grass like lovers. He was practically on top of you, in such an intimate way. Fushiguro hated the way Itadori made you smile and laugh so easily. Yuji always managed to find a way to make you blush shyly at his blatant flirting. How could you not notice that Itadori was into you more than as a friend? Megumi knew that it was your naivety that shielded you from knowing Itadori’s true intentions, but he couldn’t help but resent you slightly for being so oblivious. Once the two of you made it official Itadori was the first to know, but that didn’t change the way he treated you. Yuji may be his friend but he’s crossed the line countless times and now he’s going to know who you belong to.
“Don’t move away now-“ Megumi groaned out in pleasure as he pulled your hips closer to his, roughly shoving his lengthy vein-covered cock back inside your dampening hole. “You’re going to take all of this dick. Whether you want to or not.” He growled while possessively moving both of your wrists above your head, pinning them down harshly.
A pain-filled squeak escaped from your lips “Ahh- Gumi, please… you’re too rough… stop! Nhh-” Fushiguro deliberately ignored your pitiful whines as he relished in the tight comforting squeeze of your fluttering walls around him.
Despite the callous way your boyfriend was treating you, you couldn’t help but get fired up by his selfish behavior. The way his eyebrows narrowed down at you in such a demeaning manner stirred up something deep inside you. When the both of you have sex he’s usually gentle and thoughtful on where and how to touch you. He’s never been this rough with you before, what’s gotten into him?
“You’re mine. Don’t forget that.” He snarled animalisticly, as he plunged his dick back into you with much more force. This time it causes you to scream out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. His headboard began to thump against the wall rhythmically. “Come on say it back.” His eyes glared at you through his disheveled inky black hair.
“I’m yours-ahh!” You whimpered as he smirked down at you triumphantly. The speed of his length plowing into you increased, and with his free hand, he shakily slid his fingers over your clit. Causing sparks of delight to go down your spine.
“If you’re mine, why do you let Itadori flirt with you?” Fushiguro replied through gritted teeth.
Confusion washed over your hazed mind, “What do you- ahh” You were cut off when Megumi ripped his hand away from your clit and placed it around your throat with anger, squeezing harshly.
“Don’t give me that shit.” He shoved his cock deep inside of you causing your pussy to twitch around him in satisfaction. His midnight blue eyes fixated on you like a predator staring down its prey. “You want him, don’t you?”
“N-no!” You coughed a little from the pressure he had on your throat, “he’s our friend.”
Irritation flashed over Megumi’s handsome features. Your boyfriend then maneuvered you so you were riding his dick. He gripped your waist firmly and began to fuck you relentlessly.
“I bet you want him to fuck you.” He hissed with pleasure as he felt you grow into an even wetter mess for him. You could feel his dick slide into your saturated entrance effortlessly.
“No, I only want you!” You whimpered out as you felt Fushiguro’s grip on the crease between your thighs and hips grow more harsh.
“Oh yeah?” He groaned out, appreciating how good you felt at this angle. “Prove it by FaceTiming him while you take my dick.”
“I don’t want-ahh, him looking at me like this!” You cried out helplessly, enjoying how Megumi’s long cock hit just the right spot up inside you. He bounced you onto him fluently, and with each thrust you could feel the head of his penis hit your cervix with deep ecstasy.
“You belong to me, so do it,” Megumi stated with such authority you felt like disobeying him would feel blasphemous.
“Let me grab my phone.” You muttered breathlessly. You reluctantly removed yourself from Fushiguro’s heavenly dick and crawled across his bed to grab your phone off his nightstand.
“Good girl.” You couldn’t see your boyfriend, but by the tone of his voice, you could practically hear his satisfied smirk.
You unlocked your phone and handed it to Megumi, you couldn’t help but drag your eyes over his naked body. On his lean yet muscular torso you could see his well-defined abs, which were incredibly attractive with the faint shine of sweat. You noticed the fading hickeys you left on his broad shoulders from your previous sessions. Your gaze lowered to his lengthy dick, still as ready to play as ever, just looking at his rose-colored tip made your mouth water. Without instruction, you crawled down to his lower half and settled yourself between his thighs. Gently grabbing his warm rod and giving the side of his length a small kiss while looking up at him.
While Fushiguro was pulling up Yuji’s FaceTime on your phone; he couldn’t help but adore the way your pretty face stared up at him in such an innocent manner. Especially while you lightly kissed the length of his shaft, your petal soft lips felt amazing on his horny cock. He pointed the phone's camera towards you as you lapped up his precum from the tip of his dick.
Just on cue, Itadori picked up the call, “Hey Y/n, what’s-“ he cut off in pure shock. Megumi couldn’t help but smirk at the look on his friend's face. Yuji’s initial reaction was blatant bafflement, but now there was an expression of a yearning lust. He knew it. Itadori likes you more than just a friend.
You felt your boyfriend's dick twitch with delight when Yuji answered the call. You felt too shy to look up at the phone so you focused on taking more of Megumi in your hot salivating mouth. You slowly licked him up and down like a delicious popsicle. With your tongue alone, you memorized every detail of his glorious penis. Everything about his dick was perfect, especially how it curved upward and slightly to the right. You then brought your curious tongue down to his balls to suck them gently. With your left hand, you began to pump his slick-covered dick. Instinctively you looked up at Megumi but immediately looked back down- forgetting that Itadori was on the phone. You heard Yuji groan out at your hotness when you accidentally looked at him through the camera.
“Oh come on, don’t be shy. Look up at me baby.” Fushiguro teased affectionately, his voice deep and husky. You apprehensively met your boyfriend's hungry gaze, making sure to look past the camera. “Good girl.” He gave you a killer smile as your pretty face looked up at him obediently. You gingerly took his right nut into your awaiting mouth.
The way you gently sucked and licked Megumi’s balls, made him writhe with pleasure under your wicked tongue. He adored the way you traced a figure-eight pattern along his nuts. He watched in awe as you slithered your tongue up to the tip of his dick and then engulfed him down your heavenly throat.
You made sure to maintain eye contact with Fushiguro as you beckoned him further into you. You slightly gagged on his shaft while you took time to adjust having him lodged down your throat. The lack of air was worth it, in turn, your reward was seeing Fushiguro’s handsome face distorted with satisfaction. His jaw went slack with pleasure as his chest rose and fell heavily.
Megumi couldn’t help but glance down at your phone screen to observe Itadori’s reaction, there was a needy look on his face and his phone was shaking. He was clearly jacking himself off.
The more you worshiped Fushiguro’s lengthy rod, the more you enjoyed having Itadori watch. You’ve never done anything so inappropriate in front of another person like this before. You felt entirely desired, it felt hot knowing both men craved you.
You unlatched yourself from your boyfriend’s shaft and began to bob your head on him as you did a combination of licking and sucking. It felt as if all of the shyness you had earlier, melted away and was now replaced by sultry energy. You directed your gaze entirely at the camera, just to tease your friend Itadori. You heard him moan out “Fuck…” in response. With Megumi’s free hand; you felt him possessively tangle his fingers in your hair, as you made love to his cock.
Fushiguro couldn’t take it anymore and released himself in your mouth, with a guttural groan. You slurped him up enthusiastically, making sure not to miss a single drop.
You pulled your puffy wet lips off of his pulsating tip, looking to your boyfriend for further instructions. He lightly removed his fingers from your hair, “Lay down.” He ordered breathlessly, his dark blue eyes gleamed at you with approval.
You immediately obeyed and laid down next to Megumi, only to have him get up and kneel between your thighs. He made sure to keep the camera focused on your pussy. A small wave of shyness wafted over you knowing that Itadori was probably staring at your most private parts. You tried to squeeze your legs shut but the black-haired man between them gripped your thigh with his free hand painfully.
“Don’t hide that pretty pussy. The fun has only just begun.” He smirked at you devilishly.
Your cunt couldn’t help but quiver at your boyfriend's words. With his long slender pointer finger, he prodded your slick lips. You were still wet from his rough fucking from earlier. Without warning he plunged his finger into you and swiveled it around, a loud shameful moan came from your mouth. He then abruptly removed his finger from your needy hole. He showed Itadori how gooey you were by placing his pointer finger against his thumb. A long clear strand of your wet discharge connected his fingers together.
“See how wet she is for me,” Fushiguro stated with a leg-weakening sneer. He then delicately rotated his finger against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Smearing your slick wetness over your clit.
“Mmh…” You whined with delight, your legs instinctively opened wider for your boyfriend as your pelvis raised towards him, and your body was begging for more.
Seeing the way you responded to Megumi’s touch made Yuji want to crawl through the phone screen and make you feel just as good - if not better. “Bro she’s so hot.” He groaned as he sped up his pace jerking himself.
Fushiguro then brought his index finger to your more than-ready entrance, he teased you by barely sliding it in. You wanted to feel so much more, it wasn’t fair that he was toying with you like this. Especially since you didn’t tease him when you gave him head.
“Gumi, please…” You whimpered desperately.
He arched his eyebrow at you playfully, “What is it Y/n? What do you need?” You tried to muster up the most intimidating glare you could conjure up, “Aww don’t look at me like that.” He chuckled sexily, “You want me to do this?” He then shoved his middle finger into you, knuckles deep while stroking the sensitive spot inside of you. To add to the pressure he rubbed his thumb over your clit. Before you and Megumi even had sex you had a feeling that he’d be great at fingering, simply because of all the elaborate hand gestures he used for his cursed technique. And you certainly weren’t disappointed when your assumption proved to be more than correct.
You felt your cheeks turn flush as your body melted under your boyfriend's talented fingers. Megumi pumped into you even faster. “Mmm… just fuck me already.” You blurted breathlessly without meaning to as you squirmed around in ecstasy. You couldn’t take the amazing sensations of his sinful fingers and released onto them abruptly, your pussy walls clenched around his digit in the most pleasurable way. He gave you a wry smile as you drenched him.
“You hear that Itadori, she wants me to fuck her.” He zoomed the camera onto your dripping cunt; you could hear urgent moist fap sounds of Yuji pumping himself off. Megumi pulled his hand away from your wanton core and began to coat his dick with your juices; he made sure to get your wetness evenly distributed on his lengthy shaft. Fushiguro’s navy-colored eyes raked over your gorgeous body with a burning passion. You gazed at him excitedly knowing what was about to come next. He brought his lower half closer to you as he situated the tip at your hot and steamy entrance.
“Is this what you want?” Fushiguro arched his brow at you teasingly. “You want my dick up inside of you, baby?”
“Please…” You whimpered as you ghosted your hand down to his delicious length, trying to get him into you.
He remained in his position, unwavering. “And why should I?”
“Because I belong to you.” You whispered in anticipation, knowing damn well that your possessive boyfriend would love to hear that. “I’m yours Megumi.” You added to butter him up even more.
Megumi couldn’t say no to you and without hesitation, he slammed his heavenly dick into your slippery cunt. An adorable mewl of pleasure escaped your lips. He filled you up perfectly, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting him closer. You needed to feel his body pressed onto yours. You craved him to surround you completely.
It was hard for Fushiguro to hold the phone pointed at your pussy as he plunged into you. He was tempted to end the FaceTime call but he wanted Itadori to know that you were entirely his. He angled himself into your delectable cunt so he was hitting your sweet spot consistently.
“Oh, mmh yes Megumi!” You whimpered out in delight, as you raked your nails along Fushiguro’s toned back.
“You like that?” He muttered huskily, his eyes shone like dark sapphire gems as he studied your beautiful face in pleasure. “You love my dick?”
“Yes! Don’t stop… ahh” You moaned out as he rammed into you aggressively.
He pointed your phone in your face now, giving Yuji the perfect view of your stunning face contorted with satisfaction. “You like Itadori watching?” He grunted a bit harshly, as he thrust into you with more force. Megumi couldn’t help but still feel annoyed that Itadori consistently flirts with you. A small seed of insecurity has taken root in Fushiguro’s mind, and he wondered if you were attracted to his friend.
You felt embarrassed at your boyfriend's bold question and it didn’t help that Itadori was able to see you in such a vulnerable manner. You refused to answer Fushiguro, not sure if a simple yes or no would suffice. Although, deep down; the fact that your friend was watching the two of you be intimate together excited you in a suggestive way. This was something you’d never done before, and the reason behind this inappropriate act was because of your boyfriend's possessive behavior. To which you didn’t mind, it made you feel happy that he wanted you all to himself, because you felt the same.
“You want Yuji to fuck you?” He sneered down at you, his words stung slightly. He was clearly still jealous. You were able to hear Itadori groan out at his question. Megumi’s hips smacked against yours while his dick persistently hit the spot up inside of you that made you go crazy.
“Mmm… y-“ you cut yourself off, you wanted to say ‘yes’ to the ecstasy Fushiguro was making you feel - not to his question. “No!” You stammered hoping that your boyfriend didn’t notice your slip-up.
Fushiguro narrowed his eyes down at you, “Why were you going to say yes at first?”
“Cause you’re making me feel good.” You looked up at him angelically, “I only want you to fuck me.”
Megumi couldn’t help but smirk down at you, pride welled up in his chest knowing damn well that his friend Itadori heard that. “You’re mine.” He growled while relishing how perfect your pussy felt around him. His mouth practically drooled at how wet you got for him.
“I’m yours.” You mewled back, “Only yours.” You reassured while pulling him into you for a warm embrace. “I love you Megumi.” You whimpered out while you felt his long shaft twitch up inside of you.
“I love you more.” He whispered into the crook of your neck, he set the phone off to the side so he could hold you properly. Not caring to hang up on Itadori, if he wants to listen to the both of you he certainly can. He pulled away to look down at you with approval before crashing his lips onto yours. He passionately moved his lips against yours, you felt him suck and nibble at your lower plump lip as you did the same to his upper lip. He darted his tongue into your mouth to tease your tongue. You felt his hand snake up to your left breast to lightly fondle and squeeze. He began to move inside of you once more, this time with more urgency.
He kept his mouth on yours while he pumped into your slick pussy, his headboard began to pound against the wall at a fast pace. You felt amazing to Fushiguro, if he was able to fuck you 24/7 he certainly would. He adored everything about you, from your charming personality to your gorgeous body. He couldn’t get enough of you, and he could understand why Itadori would want to try and have a chance with you. But you belonged to Megumi, and he made sure to prove it. He lowered his hot mouth down to your neck and latched down hard, making sure to leave a large angry red mark that would be hard to cover up.
Fushiguro’s body dominated yours so easily, he plowed his dick into you with such determination and passion you felt your lower stomach churn with delight. You were about to cum and wanted him to finish in you at the same time. “Make me yours. Cum in me.” You moaned out shamelessly.
The corner of Megumi’s lip twitched upward at your request, “I will baby.” His tempo and power increased as he chased after his release, his inky black hair fell in front of his face sexily. You felt his hand snake its way down your body and to your clit, rubbing it just the way you like it. The delectable sensations pushed you over the edge and you drenched Fushiguro’s dick with your release. He shot his seed up inside of you, claiming your pussy as his. You felt his cock fill you up with his hot white liquid, and you shuddered with pure bliss at the feeling.
He leaned over to grab your phone, and couldn’t help but smirk at the screen knowing that his friend was still on the call. “Itadori, look what I did to my girl's pussy.” He brought the phone down to your connected privates, zooming in as he pulled his lengthy dick out of you. A stream of his bountiful cum leaked from your pussy like a river; your pretty cunt glistened from the faint light coming off of his TV screen.
“Fuck that’s so hot.” Yuji groaned out desperately; simply by looking at your used and shiny pussy he was able to finish right then and there. He released himself all over his muscly abs. He flipped the camera to show both of you his slick mess. “Damn, you’re so lucky Fushiguro. Y/n really does belong to you.” Itadori said in a slightly defeated tone, “I gotta clean up, thanks for the call - it was fun.“ He paused for a second, “I’ll real myself in and cut off the flirting. Sorry man. Also, I’d be down to do this again sometime.” He teased and abruptly ended the call, not giving Megumi a chance to answer.
You felt so lucky to call Fushiguro your boyfriend and you regret not noticing how jealous he could get. “I’m sorry for not noticing it when Itadori was flirting with me.” You croaked out, your voice a little harsh from your sucking his dick earlier.
“It’s ok, I’m sorry for letting my jealousy get out of hand. I just don’t want to lose you. You mean so much to me.” He admitted with a faint blush on his fair cheeks. Satisfaction welled up inside you, knowing how much Megumi cared for you. You knew that he’d do anything for you and without hesitation, you’d do the same. To simply please him for his praise filled you with such contentment. You didn’t want to flat out and say it, but in your heart, he was superior above all else. You loved how thoughtful and caring he was towards you, especially how he easily made you feel safe and secure.
“You won’t ever lose me, especially to another person.” You reassured, with a genuine smile. Fushiguro secretly screenshotted this moment in his mind, he made a vow to himself to never forget your face and the promise you just made. He knew for a fact that you were the one for him and he won’t let anyone or anything come between you two ever again.
“So you got a little wetter than usual when I was fucking you rough.” You teased with a playful glint in his midnight blue eyes.
You couldn’t suppress the blush that instantly formed on your face. “Well, yeah.” You squirmed under his gaze as your voice got a little caught in your throat.
“You don’t have to explain why.” He chuckled, “Want me to treat you like that more often when we have sex?”
“Mmh-hmm.” You nodded affirmatively, with a shy smile.
“Damn, you’re cute,” Fushiguro muttered as he leaned over and gave your forehead a loving kiss. “Now come on, let’s take a shower.”
✩࿐ Like my style? Check out my other creations! ✩࿐
#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi x you#fushiguro smut#fushiguro megumi smut#fushiguro x y/n#fushiguro x reader#fushiguro x you#megumi x reader#megumi x y/n#megumi fushiguro x you#fushiguro megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi x you#jjk fanfic
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Can I pretty please request a
Part 3 clingy reader of Rhysand and Azriel poly ddlg relationship rhysriel
Where reader loves to cockwarm both Azriel and rhysand mainly bc she likes how close it makes her feel to them and it’s comforting like she will fall asleep with them inside her and she loves how comfy it is feel free to make it spicy aswell
Reader crys when they try to pull out bc she goes stupid for them and loves how it feels and how full and comfy it is like wether it her cock warming them when they work or when after they fu..ed or in the bath she wont let them pull out and crys
Attached at the Hip (SMUT)
Rhysriel x reader
A/n: I knew you would request them! I love this for them so much omg
Warnings: ddlg, cock warming, smut, oral fixation
As we’ve talked about before you love being around Rhys and Azzy 24/7
You can’t live without them
There are times that the males make your brain melt from the way they treat you
They’re just so big and strong they make you swoon like heart eyes 😍
Az and Rhys flex their arms and wings and it just does things to you (thinking about it certainly does things to me)
Sometimes they do it on purpose just to get a reaction from you. They always tease you with a shit eating smirk on their face, holding your chin so you look up at them, “Aww, sweet baby. There’s nothing in that sweet head of yours, huh?”
That question always make you stutter
Also as we’ve talked about before, you are very touchy with them
Like you need hands and eyes on them at all times (especially when they’re home)
You usually go to Rhys first because he can’t say no to you
I mean neither of them can say no to you ever
The need for one of them was very overwhelming one afternoon. Both of them had already pleasured you thoroughly this morning, but you couldn’t stop thinking about them. You decided not to be subtle with Rhys either. The two males always told you to be upfront with them when you want something.
You run right up to Rhys, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. You start kissing his neck, giggling. “Darling,” Rhys laughed, “what has gotten into you?” He asked, the smile evident in his tone. Lightly biting down on the side of his neck you start grinding your core over his bulge, letting out a breathy moan against his skin. “Need you daddy.” You lick the skin you bit, rubbing your nose against his jaw.
“Just need your cock, daddy.” Rhys grabs your hips, pulling you against his growing bulge. “Yeah darling, give me a second and you can have what you want.” Rhys pulls your dress up over your hips to find your pussy bare and dripping for him. Rhys runs his fingers through your folds, letting out a groan. Pulling out his cock, sliding inside you easily
You sit with Rhys’s cock inside you while he finishes up some work. He taps your bum, signaling for you to get up with him. A whine escapes your lips and you tighten your arms around his neck. “No, wanna stay,” you mumble out. Rhys laughed, moving over the couch promising you a few more minutes
With Azriel, you catch him relaxing on the couch reading. It’s definitely a book Nesta suggested to him. Azriel hates to admit it but he loves smutty books. He’ll read them to you while Rhys takes his time worshipping you between your thighs (another story for another time)
You take a gentler approach with Az (that male is a slut for eye contact). You slowly straddle his lap, pressing your chest to his, wrapping your arms around his neck and sliding your fingers i to his soft inky hair
Azriel sucks in a breath, your lips a hair’s breadth away. “Hi Azzy,” you purr, “whatch ya readin’?” You ask in that cute tone that wraps him even tighter around your finger. Azriel smirks. Your want immediately clicking in his mind
“Something you’d love.” Gods that deep, smoky voice got you every time. A small whine leaves your lips as you grind down on his cock. Azriel groans, throwing his head back
“Fuck princess, I know what you want.” You start kissing and nipping at his neck while Azriel pulls his cock free from his sweatpants. He bunches your dress up to find you bare and ready for him
Wasting no time he slides into you, holding the nape of your neck to bring you closer to him. Bringing your face to rest in the crook of Azriel’s neck you take in a deep breath of his scent, your own mixed with his and a hint of Rhys. Your eyes flutter shut at how relaxed you feel in Azriel’s embrace. “Feels so good daddy.” You hum out. “And what do you say when daddy gives you something?” “Thank you daddy.” “Good girl. Want me to read to you?” “Yes please.”
You sit like that until your eyes start to get heavy. Azriel notices and throws a blanket around your shoulders to snuggle with you
You like when both of them stay in you after they fuck you to keep you nice and full
You get very clingy with them after sex and they are more than happy to indulge you
On the very rare occasion they’re both filling your pussy it’s fucking euphoric. The feeling of having Az and Rhys’s cocks stretching your hole is a fucking experience
You always insist that Rhys and Az stay in you until you fall asleep, “wanna feel you forever.” You mumble into one of their chests
Their arms wrap around you, keeping you secure between them as they fill both your holes as you drift off
When only one of them is inside you, you have the other fill you in another way
You grab one of their hands signaling you want their fingers. Rhys is gentle only pressing one finger down on your tongue while Azriel shoves two of his fingers in your mouth knowing you’re greedy and desperate
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar reader fic#acotar reader imagine#acotar imagine#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x you#azriel fic#azriel imagine#azriel fanfic#acotar azriel#azriel#rhysand headcanon#rhysand x reader#azriel smut#rhysand imagine#rhysand smut#rhysand fanfic#acotar rhysand#rhysand acotar#rhysand x azriel x you#rhysand x you#poly!rhysriel x you#poly!rhysriel x reader#poly!rhysriel
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thinkin bout a guy who is Mother but rather in the way of "camp" or "drag", he is "Nurturing" and Collected". ahem, ,,,,, use of mommy. ahehrm.
he's a big guy, ultimately intimidating with his silent nature.. inky black curly hair to his chest, russet brown complexion, long nose... your superior,,, technically,,. cant help but be so nervous around the guy. he's taller than you, by one and a half foot.. scary as shit, stern face.. his name, constance, throws you off. firm, stony expression that happens to grow soft when addressing you, not that you notice the difference,, commenting on your lunch and then sharing with you, forcing you to eat some of his well-packed meal that looked akin to a dinner meal rather that a simple sandwich like you packed - making sure you have your fill. like, just imagining this big ass intimidating guy being so caring toward you, patting you on the shoulder; hand lingering on the small of your back while praising your work so gently,, - very unprofessional some would sayㅡmaking you even more nervous. he was pretty formal with the others, yeah, what makes you so different exactly ??? ahem. he likes you obviously. tracking you down way before you started working with him,,, it was simply a "miracle" you got the job right ???
getting close with him, after he forces his way into friendship with you, ur just so charming and lovely to him,,, inviting you, and only you out for drinks after a particularly stressful workday which you eagerly agree after he says that its all on him,,
immediately takes advantage of the truth spilling from your lips after one too many drinks,, telling him all of your problems,, your parental problems; he was your superior, and who are you to decline his offer of more rounds?? its all on him after all!! ultimately takes you to his house, yknow,, merely holds you while you cry, bursting into tears randomly - a sensitive drunk person.. sobbing into his chest while he holds a glass of water for you, holding you in his chest whilst his free hand caressed and played with your hair,, he knew everything about you beforehand, but it felt a bit more meaningful when you were ranting to him over a few drinks..
"thanks mom,," you thank him quietly, earnestly whilst sipping on the glass of water,, a little sobered up, more coherent. he didnt seem to mind ur little slip-up, rather encouraging it.. he grinned, wildly; maliciously. you were turned away from him, slowly sipping on the water,,, it was quite the terrifying sight, but he was so so so happy, he would be so happy to take on that role for you,, your mother,,. he'd just have to push you in the right direction. he didnt seem to mind you squeezing his tits either. in your drunken haze, hands roaming over his chest, squeezing ever so slightly as you slowly let urself fall asleep on your superior; half-laying on him on his luxurious couch in his rather luxurious place... he encouraged it,, truly. only a matter of time before you were fucking him into his bed and suckin on his nipple while callin him mommy, bro.
again takes advantage of you and your use of mom, he tells you to call him "mother" instead and watches your embarrassed form fumbling around all smiling and shit,,. then it kinda goes downhill from there.. keeping you captive, "punishing" you when you dont call him mother or something,, he just wants to be there for you, hold you,,, just a guy whos called Mother whos literally so in love with you and takes advantage of you basically. ahem. there was another idea where constance just takes you, convenience store worker, under his wing,, kidnapping you would be pretty easy you'd think,,, but anyway. Mother for the win!
#ocs =͟͟͞͞★#x male reader#male reader#sub male reader#dom male character#subbot male reader#domtop male character#subtop male reader#dombot male character#MOTHERLY YAN!
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Don't call me crazy
Professor!Az X Student!Reader Modern AU
Masterlist
Summary: Y/N has been lusting after her new British professor since the first day of class, what a perfect coincidence he also becomes her private teacher in all things war and torture.
Warnings: vulgar content, smut, 18+, age gap romance, oral (Fem and Male receiving), choking, praise, dom!az.
Word count: 4207
The first time I stepped into Mr. Singers' classroom I was expecting an old white man who thought he was funny.
What I wasn’t expecting as I took my seat in the front row was for a mid-age, tan skin, handsome man with tattoos and a thick British accent to walk out of the office. I wasn’t the only girl who sighed at his devastatingly handsome face.
“Good morning class. Let’s start with basic attendance so I can put faces to names and then we will get started.” The words rolled out of his mouth with the most sensual deep British accent.
The professor for War and Peace in Historical Perspective was not at all what I thought. Not with his crisp black button-up that had to top button undone and the sleeves rolled up. Not with the inky shadows that peaked up the collar of his shirt and down his very muscular forearm.
I was too busy daydreaming about those muscular forearms holding my waist to hear him call my name.
“Mrs. Y/N?” He asked again, which I only heard because of my seatmate elbowing me.
“Here.” I hesitantly lifted my hand, slowly sinking back into my seat out of embarrassment. His gaze fell upon me with his golden honey eyes.
“Next time, if you choose to be in the front, be more present.” He scolded me before moving on. A blush rose over my cheeks with the stern words.
~~~~
My War and Peace class hadn’t necessarily gotten better but also not worse. My work excelled and I never got below a B. So one could imagine my disappointment when my latest paper on Torture Tactics in War got a C-.
Mr. Singers' hand stayed on my desk as he whispered into my ear.
“See me after class or during office hours today.” His deep voice rolled through my body, shooting straight in between my thighs.
Was it inappropriate to have a huge sexual crush on my teacher who was 20+ my senior? Absolutely. Did it stop me? No. Goosebumps rolled down my bare legs and under my pleated white skirt. I nodded my head quickly as he moved to the next student.
After mentally going through my schedule I decided it would be best to stop by during office hours later.
~~~
My fist lightly knocked on Mr. Singers' office door.
“Come in.” He rumbled.
I opened the door before stepping into the dark space. His dark mahogany desk was neat and organized with papers and notes. The room only being illuminated by a tall lamp in one corner and a smaller salt lamp in the other corner.
“You wanted to see me?” I ask as my hands pull at the end of my navy sweater.
“Ah, yes Mrs. Y/N I wanted to discuss your last paper. Sit.” He nodded to the chair across from him. My feet moved on their own accord to sit, as if aching to obey his every word.
“Yeah I saw I got a C- and I was pretty confused. Is there any way I could revise the paper? I planned on using the topic for my dissertation.” I pulled out the printed paper from my bag.
He watched my every movement very closely. His eyes raked my body from my white headband, over my navy blue sweater and white skirt, and down my bare legs that were currently crossed.
“Yes, the topic is very good however the research is not accurate which in turn made most of your paper inaccurate. I was very disappointed to have to give you a C. You are a bright girl Y/N. I know you have a bright future in history, so I do want to work with you so you can gain better research skills and a better understanding of the topic.” He spoke, moving his dark round glasses back onto his face.
The glasses gave him a nerdy Clark Kent look. The glasses made me want to rip off his shirt and ride him. My thighs squeezed a bit tighter at the warmth that pooled in the lowest parts of me. I nodded with understanding before he continued.
“I specialized in War Torture when I was in school. I interviewed real victims and studied the methods and techniques.” He paused pushing up his sleeves and leaning back before continuing. “In the least creepy way possible, I became a master of torture and its history. When I decide I want to know something, I won’t stop until I devour all I can about it.” He finished.
I think I was delirious because I swear that last phrase was an innuendo. My toes curled in my black boots.
“I understand, and I would love your help since you’re so knowledgeable about it. I double majored in History and Journalism so I could research. How would this work? Should I stay after class or come to office hours?” I asked with a tilt of my head, I felt my hair fall off of one shoulder as I did so.
“How about it this, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday you stop by at let’s say 5:30? Right after office hours so that way we don’t take time from other students.” He asked with his eyebrows raised.
“That works for me! Is there anything I should bring sir?” I asked as I gathered my things.
“Maybe a notebook and your laptop for notes. Other than that we can wing it as we go.” He finished with a small smile and a shrug of one shoulder.
We said goodbyes before I walked out of his office, my thighs now slick in anticipation.
~~~
“Today I figured we could work on the actual technical details of the methods. It is important to understand the thought behind each movement.” Azriel spoke as I walked into his office.
We have been doing this mentorship for the last two months so far. It’s been going well, both of us flirting now and again but never quite crossing the line. He asked me to call him by his first name outside of class, and what a beautiful name he had. Azriel.
I felt his eyes take over my outfit choice for the day. With the warmer weather, my skirt and sweater combo has become more rare. Today I wore a tight white skirt with a cropped white tank top with a thin dark blue cardigan over it and some platform boots. even with my platforms Azriel still stood over me.
“You-you want me to torture you?” My breath hitched with the statement. He let out a small chuckle under his breath.
“No, I’m going to see if you can handle the most basic form of torture. If we can’t understand what torture feels like how can we accurately report it?” He said while moving close to me.
“So what are you going to do to me Mr.Singer?” I asked looking up into his eyes.
“Sensory deprivation. We start with sight, sit down.” He voices as he walks behind me and gently pushes on my shoulder to sit me down.
I took deep breaths as his large hands brought a thick strip of black fabric in front of my face. I felt his presence all too well as he placed the cloth over my eyes and tied it behind my head.
“They start with sensory tactics because there is nothing quite like the paranoia of not being able to see your capturers and what they are doing.” He spoke, his voice drawing quieter as if he moved across the room.
“For example,” He whispered in my ear, easing a small jump out of me. I hadn’t heard his come back, his footsteps silent.
“You have no idea what I’m about to do to you.” He whispered in my other ear, running his fingers over my shoulder. Goosebumps appeared in his wake.
“Can I remove my cardigan? It’s warm in here.” I asked before my fingers fumbled to find the bow holding the top of my cardigan closed. I felt a pair of hands wrap around my own small hands. His fingers slide over mine, quickly pulling the strings of the bow and slowly sliding my cardigan off.
“How are you feeling?” His voice rumbled thick with an accent as he took my cardigan out of my lap.
“I’m ok, it just feels like everything is heightened. Like I can feel everything around me, every breath, every touch. How is this torture?” I whispered with a shaky breath. I know his touch could be innocent but with the massive want between us, every touch feels like he’s about to fuck me.
“It isn’t yet, the next thing they would do would be take away your hearing, they would play sounds that would drive you insane. I’m not going to subject you to that however I am going to create certain sounds and I want you to identify the sounds and objects. Knowing how to use the heightened hearing to your advantage is something that could be very useful in a situation like this.” This time I heard his steps, like he purposefully made them louder.
I gave a nod, moving my hands under my thighs to keep from fidgeting. The first sound I heard sounded like glass. I waited another second before responding to be sure.
“Is it a glass? Like a cup?” I tilted my head towards the sound.
“Yes very good. Would you like some water Y/N?” I felt his approach to my front. I gave another quick nod, sticking out my hands for the cup.
“Ha, knowing you if I tried to hand you this glass you would spill it all over yourself.” He chuckled under his breath.
“You’re not wrong, but how else am I supposed to drink the water?” I lifted a curious brow even though he couldn’t see it.
“Tilt your head back.”
A simple command, yet hearing it set my body alight. I felt warmth gather low in my belly as I did what he asked. As I felt his fingers grasp my chin, pulling open my mouth, I felt that warmth seep out of me. I tried to cross my legs, not realizing how close he truly was.
“Is something wrong Y/N?” He asked with what sounded like knowingness in his voice. I tried to shake my head but couldn’t because of his grip.
“Use your words.” He spoke again. More heat seeped into my panties at his command.
“Nope, nothing's wrong.” My voice came out more breathless than intended.
He hummed before touching the cold rim of the glass to my bottom lip. I felt him tip back my head some more before pouring in the water.
“Would you like to know something Y/N?” He asked as he closed my mouth, allowing me to swallow with a gulp.
“What’s that Mr.Singer?” I asked, feeling his thumb coming up to wipe a small dribble of water that escaped my lips.
“You look divine like this, I can only imagine what you would look like if I could see your eyes.” He whispered as his hand moved from my jaw into my hair.
I sucked in a harsh breath before lifting my hands to remove the blindfold that prevents me from seeing him.
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I didn’t say you could take it off just yet.” His voice was light and full of amusement. Then the entire room shifted as his hand fisted my hair and brought my face closer to his.
I felt his heated gaze take over my body as his breaths gained speed. Then I heard the most torturous sound leave his lips. A groan that sounded like I hit him. Then his heat was gone, all contact broken.
“I shouldn’t do this. You’re my student.” He spoke with anguish. I stood quickly, a little too quickly by the way I swayed. I felt his arms wrap around my waist, steadying me. One hand found the tie holding together the blindfold, I quickly undid it and let it fall to the floor.
My eyes raked over his chest as I adjusted to the light. Did he get hotter while I couldn’t see? His shirt was messy like he had been raking his hands over it. And when I tilted my head to meet his eyes, a whole head and a half taller than me, the hunger I found there was insatiable. And whatever he found my eyes must have changed something for him.
“Fuck it.” He whispered before pulling my head closer to him, smashing my lips into his. I melted as he kissed me.
He kissed me like he was a man dying of starvation and I was his only food source. The hand that was holding the back of my neck moved into my hair pulling it tightly. He ripped his mouth from mine with a gasp.
“Fuck.” He muttered with a new horse and raspy voice. There was a war in his eyes, a conflicting battle.
I decided to end that battle by slipping one of my fingers over his black button-up, slowly undoing each button. When his chest was fully revealed I took a second to marvel at the gorgeous tattoo that spanned his entire muscles chest before pressing a kiss into his pecks.
“Please, Mr.Singer?” I asked, looking up at him with doe eyes and using my softest voice. I saw the battle end and that hunger take over again.
“Jesus fuck, you will be the death of me, baby.” He grunted as his hands slid under my thighs and lifted me onto his desk.
A smile overtook my face as his hands gripped my ass. I gently tugged on the open shirt, asking for him to remove it. I almost let out a cry at the loss of his heat. He pulled his shirt off in one fluid motion, stepping back in between my spread legs.
Azriel slants his mouth over mine once again, his hands grazing over my bare thighs, reaching under my skirt. I let out a small moan when his fingers gripped my thighs.
“Do you like that Y/N?” He asked with a raised eyebrow before sliding his hands under my thighs and pulling me to the edge of the desk.
“God yes, Mr. Singer.” I moaned as he continued to manhandle me. His hands roamed from my thighs to my waist pulling my chest into his.
“Fuck I love the way you say my name. But I love your beautiful tits even more.” He grunted out before pulling my tank top down.
“You have no idea how many times you’ve distracted me in class. Prancing around in these tiny skirts without any tights and your tiny tops. The number of times I’m lecturing and all I can look at are your beautiful thighs.” He ground out as he brought his mouth to my nipples.
A wave of pleasure rolled through me as his tongue swirled my nipped. A loud moan fell out of my mouth when he lightly bit it. My hips bucked forward, almost causing me to fall off the desk but his hands were there, sliding me back onto the steady table.
“Careful there baby. Tell me what you need.” His breath whispered over my nipples with a shuttering sensation.
“You. I need you Azriel.” I whined, grinding my hips into the air. He fell to his knees, his hands pushing my skirt up.
“How do you need me? Do you need my tongue?” He asked as he licked a line from the base of my core to my clit, letting his tongue linger with an audible groan.
“Do you need my fingers?” His strong fingers followed his tongue, drawing a line through my wetness and swirling around my clit, causing me to gasp. My hand reached for my nipple as he paused, leaning back to look at me. After a beat of silence and direct eye contact, he said,
“Or do you need my cock?”
I’m pretty sure I almost orgasmed from those words alone, but I still replied.
“I don’t know, just please. Touch me. Anything, please.” I begged as my hips writhed against the desk. A wicked cruel look came into his eyes.
“Please what? If you’re gonna beg you might wanna address who you’re begging too.” An eyebrow hitched as he slowly brought the finger that hand wiped my wetness to his lips. Rubbing my arousal onto his lips.
“Please, Mr.Singer. I don’t care how but I need you to fuck me.” I whined out.
“Good girl.” My body came alive at the praise and the sight of him moving forward, face into my pussy.
His tongue licked another stripe before sucking on my clit over my panties. One of my hands fell to his hair, holding him into me as he continued to eat me like his life depended on it. His fingers slid up my thighs before grabbing the waistband of my panties and tugging them down. The cold air sent shivers down my spine as he hesitated.
“Mr.Singer?” I asked, looking down at where he sat with his eyes locked on my bare core.
“You are so fucking beautiful. I haven’t stopped thinking about this since the first day of class so I’m going to enjoy it,” he whispered in a daze. His hand forced my legs open even wider, completely exposing me to him.
His thick fingers traced every part of me as one of his hands fell to his hard erection in his pants. My gaze slid down to stare at the now bulging point in his black briefs. I took a moment to truly appreciate the sight before me.
One of the hottest men sitting on his knees, palm rubbing himself, his lips glistening with my arousal, hair a tossed mess from my fingers, and those damn tattoos that moved with each of his breaths. I nearly came at the sight.
I closed my legs, nimbly sliding onto the floor in front of him. My knees hit the hard floor as his gaze dragged over my bouncing tits. One of my hands found his belt and tugged, trying my best to convey what I wanted without words.
He stood quickly, one hand unbuckling his belt and pulling it off in a fast and clean motion. He took a second to wrap up the belt and place it on his desk, not once breaking eye contact. My thin hands slid up his legs, quickly unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down.
His cock sprang free with a small bounce. A small gasp left my mouth as I beheld the sight of his long and thick cock that has barbell piercings along the shaft. I rubbed my thumb over his head, collecting the small bit of pre-cum, and sucked it into my mouth.
Azriels head fell back with a groan, one that became even louder as one of my hands wrapped around his length. I let my lips softly kiss the head of his cock before sucking it into my mouth. I took a minute to warm up to his size before looking up at him.
The second I made eye contact his hand flew to my hair and forced me down on his cock. Tears welled in my eyes as I struggled to take it all.
“Come on, be a good girl and take my cock, pretty girl.” He ground out as his thumb from his free hand smudged my mascara with my tears.
I moaned around his cock and I forced myself up and down him. He was too long to fit in my mouth so with what I couldn’t swallow I used my hand. I pulled off of his cock with a pop, leaning forward and spitting on it before using two hands to jerk him. I moved his cock over my chest, savoring the professor's low groans and curses.
I felt two strong arms slid under my arms, stopping my movement. He picked me up until I was face to face with him and my feet were dangling. He started at me with so much heat to anyone else it might seem like anger. He slid his arms to my waist and pulled my body against him as I kissed me. On instinct, my legs wrapped around his waist, lining me up perfectly to feel the head of his cock push against me.
We both gasped at the contact. It didn’t take him long to walk us over to the wall by the chair, pushing me against it and thrusting his cock so he slid through my folds. A loud moan leaves my mouth when he hits my clit.
“I need you. I’m clean, please fuck me Azriel.” I begged.
A long and overdrawn “Fuck” left his bruised lips. One of his hands guided his cock to line up with my hole.
“I’m gonna fuck you, it’s not gonna be sweet, and it’s not going to be slow. It’ll be hard, and dirty, but fuck will it feel good. Is that ok baby?” He tormented me by nudging the very tip of him into me.
“Yes, god yes.” I threw my head against the wall. I would do anything to just put him inside me.
“Good, I want you to ride me, I wanna see those beautiful tits bounce as you struggle to take me in your little cunt.” He whispered into my ear before moving us so he was sitting on the chair and I was sitting on his thigh. I rubbed against his thigh for any friction I could get.
“Fuck you’re killing me.” His hands ran up and down my sides, as I readjusted myself so I was hovering over his cock.
One of my hands gripped his shaft helping me to sit on his cock. I did it slowly, letting myself feel each inch, feel the stretch of him. We both moaned at the sensation, and he didn’t give me much time to adjust before his hands were moving my hips.
I moved with his hands, grinding on his cock, watching his face contort in pleasure.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt something as good as this. You are perfect.” He said as he tilted his head back. I started to move up and down on his shaft, every so often switching to grinding against him.
His head snapped back to lock me in the eye before his hands found my hips with a bruising grip, stopping my bouncing. He thrust his hips up, hard and fast.
“Oh fuck.” I screamed out as he continued to fuck me.
His arms enclosed my waist fully, holding me to his chest as my fingers raked the strong muscles.
“You’re so good, thank you sir.” I moaned and pulled my nails down so hard I left marks.
His replying hum was more than enough for me as he moved his lips to suck on the sensitive spot between my neck and ear.
I felt a tight tension run down my spine as my orgasm grew closer. He let me grab one of his hands, and I guided it around my throat, gently squeezing to signal what I wanted.
“You want me to choke you? Maybe you did pick the right field.” He muttered with a condescending laugh. But still, he obliged, squeezing the sides so I got that beautiful blood rush. His pace quickened as I tightened around him.
“Cum baby, milk my cock with your cunt. Be my good girl and cum.” He said before he licked a strip of my neck.
My orgasm shook my body with a force that I hadn’t felt before. Frat guys are notorious for not making girls cum. My cunt squeezed him as he jerked up into my cunt before pulling out. I whimper at the loss of contact before I felt ropes of his cum paint my stomach, just where it would be if he were inside me.
As I came down from my high I felt his fingers dragging up my stomach, collecting his cum onto his digits. He brought them to my mouth and pushed them into my lips. I took no time licking them clean of his cum and sucking them like they were his cock. I kept my most innocent eyes as I swirled my tongue around them and popped them out of my mouth.
“One day I want to see your mouth full of my cum. For now, I need to clean you up and get you back to my place.” He gently lifted me and sat me down on the couch before turning and getting a rag out of his office cabinet.
He sunk to his knees before me, gently wiping me clean and muttering praises. My mind was a puddle and my body was spent. He gently pulled my tank top back up and covered me with his suit jacket. We made sure the coast was clear before walking to his car and driving to his apartment where we spent the rest of the night fucking, cuddling, and getting to know each other better.
~~~
A/N: here it is!!!!!! Next up, chapt 4 of S&S!!!!!!!
Taglist: @littlelunatica @going-through-shit @annaaaaa88 @i-am-infinite @impossibelle
#azriel#acotar#elain archeron#azriel x oc#nesta archeron#feyre archeron#azriel x reader#sjmaas#class of 2013#batboys#modern azriel#modern au#teacher crush#teacher x student#rough Azriel#dom!azriel
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Rising Tides
Pairing: Siren!Finnick Odair x Male!Reader
Requested: Yes
Request: “Siren finnick odair trying to enchant the reader with his song and beautiful muscles but can’t get it. Take the story whatever direction you want”
A/N: Happy Spooky Month! This is post #2 of my Spooky Month writing event - #3 will be launching on Tuesday, October 17th. Hope you enjoy!
-----
Throughout Finnick’s years he’d seen the other sirens of his pod pick off humans with ease, using their stunning looks and alluring voices to draw their prey below the inky waves of the sea. The human’s mistake dooming them to be torn apart by the pod, sirens ripping and tearing the human apart until the wisps of blood in the water is all that remains of them.
He’d doubted he would have any issues when his turn for the Hunt arose- he’d grown up knowing he was beautiful, with fins and scales the same cool seafoam color as his eyes and hair that shone almost golden. He had learned how to be charming, to play coy, and to use his looks to draw people in. He hadn’t learned how to deal with someone like you.
Finnick had known you would be his prey as soon as he saw you, a sharp pain seizing in his chest when he saw you walking along the seaside edge of your district, picking at bits of seaglass and shells absently as you meandered along the sand. He’d been transfixed by the way the sinking sun made your skin glow, the soft look in your eyes as you looked out over the waves reminding him a bit of himself and his family.
He hadn’t been quick enough to sing for you that day, too distracted by you to remember how to string notes and words and melodies together before you wandered back up the beach and into town, but he had plenty of other chances. Apparently you were no stranger to the beach, making it a nightly habit to stroll down the sand, watching over the waves and examining the small treasures brought up by the current. Sometimes you were joined by one or two others, but Finnick could never really bring himself to pay them any mind, fixated on you the same way he always was.
He’d tried to sing for you on one of the evenings that you wandered the beach alone, voice echoing quietly over the low rush of the waves coming and going, smooth and soft and sultry just the way he’d been taught. Like he had expected, you perked up at the sound of his song, taking a thoughtless step closer to the waves lapping at the shore before seeming to snap yourself out of his spell, turning swiftly on your heel and making your way home with your hands clasped over your ears to block out his voice. For the first time, Finnick doubted himself. Was his voice not as alluring as he’d been told? What if you didn’t like his song? Was he not perfect enough to draw you in? Would his pod think him a failure?
His doubts gnawed at him further when you continued to flee from him when you heard his voice, and further still when he had laid himself out along a large rock protruding from the water so you could get a good look at the way the light gleamed off his muscles and still turned away from him.
He got lucky one day though, arriving at the shore just in time to see you set off in a small boat - something he’d heard you call a ‘kayak’- with several of your friends paddling off ahead of you in their own small crafts. He smiled a bit to himself as he heard a laugh escape you, slipping soundlessly back into the water and darting swiftly after you, tail propelling him effortlessly through the water in pursuit of his prey.
With your friends’ head start, it was pretty easy for him to separate you from them, waiting until they had rounded the edge of the bay before latching onto the small handle at the front of your kayak and tugging you further out to sea. You had scrambled to try to paddle back toward the bay and to your friends, but Finnick was stronger than you. He was faster. Built to cut through water without faltering. He was an apex predator.
Eventually Finnick deemed that he had you far enough from shore that you could no longer ignore him, releasing his hold on your tow line and moving to circle your boat, watching you curiously from just below the surface of the water. A laugh bubbled out of him at the way you twisted sharply in your boat to keep your eyes fixed on him and then having to scramble to right yourself when the sudden movement threatened to overbalance you.
He surfaced right beside the kayak, clawed hands gripping tight to the edge of the kayak, just beside your own. Finnick does his best not to put too much weight on the plastic vessel, knowing he could tip it easily and not wanting to scare you more than he already had. He wasn’t sure when his fixation on you had shifted from hunger to something so much softer but he didn’t want you to fear him. He didn’t want to hurt you, he just wanted- Well.
He just wanted you.
He opens his mouth and for a moment he is torn between singing and speaking to you. There is a split second when he thinks about how easy it’d be to tip you out of the boat, to drag you beneath the waves and present you to his family like he was supposed to. He thinks about it for longer than he should’ve, but he knows he can’t.
“Why do you keep running away?” He finally forces out, words twisted and strange on his tongue without the saccharine sweetness he’d been taught to use. “Why wouldn’t you look at me? Why did you leave when I called for you?”
You are visibly shocked by the way he looks at you and he knows it must seem strange, to see a predator like him begging at your side like a love-struck dolphin.
“Because you’re going to kill me,” you say simply, edging back in your kayak despite there not being far to go. “I’ve heard the stories about your kind. If I got too close-”
Finnick’s brows furrow as he looks up at you, “Was.” he says, releasing your boat in favor of swimming slow circles around you. “Not anymore.” He tips his head back, studying the way the clouds drifted in front of the sun.
“So you’re… not trying to kill me?” you ask cautiously, eyes not wavering from Finnick even as he started to preen at the attention.
Finnick laughs, tipping his head to look at you and flicking water at you with the fluke of his tail. “No, not anymore.” He dips under the water, reemerging on the other side of the kayak and propping his head up on the edge of it, studying you intently. “I should, if you listen to what my family says, but I don't want to. You’re… interesting."
He can tell you're really not sure what to make of that, but his heart jumps in his chest at the hesitant smile you give him in return.
"Swim with me?" The words escape Finnick before he can catch them, coming out breathy and desperate in a way he'd never expected to find himself sounding. He rushes to continue before he can consider the weight of what he'd asked you to do, the way he might brush against you or his tail might curl around your legs and the way he might get a look at you in something less… covering… than your usual clothes if you agreed to swim with him. "Maybe not now," he amends, eyes dropping sharply to where one of his pointed claws taps out a rhythm on the thin plastic of the kayak. "You don't trust me yet and I don't blame you. But maybe meet me tomorrow? Give me a chance?"
Finnick could see the way you jerk up straighter in your seat and your grip on your paddle shifts as you pick up on the sound of your friends calling for you. He's not sure if your answer is just an attempt to shoo him off in time to get back to your friends or to keep them from seeing him or just something you said without thinking, but the second that yes escapes you he's pushing himself up out of the water to press a sea-salty kiss to your cheek and promising to meet you at the beach at sunset the next day.
He dives then, submerging himself well below the waves and trailing slowly after you until he's sure you and your friends made it back to the beach and then watching for just a bit longer as you disappear out of view before beginning to meander back to the labyrinth of sea caves his pod calls home.
Sure, Finnick isn’t sure if you’ll actually show up, but for the first time in weeks, his confidence has been restored and his charm feels as secure as ever. He’s definitely going against his pod pursuing you like this, but with his luck rising with the tides, he can’t bring himself to care, not with someone like you at stake.
#male!reader x finnick odair#male reader x finnick odair#finnick odair x male!reader#finnick odair x male reader#hunger games x male!reader#reader x hunger games#hunger games x reader#hunger games reader insert#x male reader#male reader insert#male!reader insert#male reader#x male!reader#x reader#male!reader#siren x reader#siren x male reader#siren x male!reader#siren!finnick#hunger games x male reader#hunger games au
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Killing Me Softly- 4
AlastorxFem!Reader part 4
A/N: Ok so this is..uh LONG but its finally here!!! Val's text is in purple, yours is in blue, and Alastor's is red! As always bolded portions are the past..Yes I did revert to using another song sue me. As always: MINORS DNI
Plot: Valentino is a piece of shit You and Al are so shitty at feelings and communication..thats basically it.
⚠️Warnings:⚠️
-Sexual innuendos (they aren't graphic but they are spicy)
-Domestic abuse (this got a lot worse so please be mindful of that and use your own discretion- you are responsible for your internet consumption)
-Alcohol use AND abuse
-Violence!! ~mentions of blood~
-A LOT of cursing 🤠
You had decided to take “small nap” to rid your body of the final remnants of exhaustion from night before. That so called “small nap” somehow lasted a good ten hours, leaving you with only two before you needed to arrive at the club again. You sat on the edge of your bathroom counter, the excess silky fabric of your slip cascading over the edge. You grab a stray eyeshadow pallet and begin to apply your makeup. You had decided on an inky toned smoky eye and a lightly lined liquid lip. It was a bit different from your usual look, but it complemented your new wardrobe perfectly. You glanced over at the folded scarlet fabric, excited to wear it again.
You had decided to get ready at home today. Angel wasn’t working tonight, so there was no sense in being at the club earlier than you really needed to be. You snapped your fingers, and the shadow behind you began to style your h/c hair in his place. It wasn’t often Angel didn’t have to work on a Saturday night. Even in Hell, weekends came with higher foot traffic. Val insisted he had earned a break after yesterday’s long shoot. It was a rare occasion but not entirely out of character. Val couldn’t break his favorite toy.
After a few more pins, the shadow dawned a bright smile and jazz hands upon completing your hair. You looked absolutely gorgeous, the pitch black entity had done a fantastic job. Your hair was twisted into bouncy side swept curls adorned with tiny sparkling gems. You wanted to meticulously appreciate the effort it had so graciously put in, but your guilt riddled conscience kept you from any real form of enjoyment.
You needed to stop thinking of him. The more you let yourself fall back on memory, the more you would love him. The more you loved him ,the more it would hurt when he realized he couldn’t love you anymore. It wasn’t his fault, no one could. This was your penance. It wasn’t supposed to be easy.
Memory had sunk its claws into your wrist. It hopelessly dragged you along by its blood lined chains and scarlet stained fingertips like an old desperate beggar. The hold Valentino had on your soul was insubstantial in comparison to the grasp Alastor had on your heart. You didn’t understand why that was. Val was your whole life, and he would be until eternity itself figured out a way to die. It would make sense for him to reside in the core of your thought, but he didn’t, he never stayed there long.
Unlike Alastor, Val owned you.
Unlike Alastor, he was there
Unlike Alastor,
you could actually feel his lips on your skin.
He had a predictable consistency to him. It was always the same constant battle between his unquenchable hatred and guilty heart.
Val insisted he “loved” you in his own way. From the shackles on your wrists, he had tied you to the stake-All so that he could look for your love. He struck the match against your skin, and lit you both ablaze because he hated that he wanted it. In the end it would never matter how many times the heat touched your skin, it wasn’t going to feel like love.
You knew what that was supposed to feel like. You had shared your heart with a great many souls in your time on Earth. Love was bathed in forgiveness and brushed with magnolia petal kisses. That love didn’t see you through eyes lined with antagonism, sparkled with fury and blended out with shades of exasperation.
Valentino did.
His lips were colored in hot pink brutality. It would smear across your skin with every kiss. He would leave you haloed in messy lipstick stain bruises and be on his way.
His absence never lasted long. The color in his cheeks was permanently rouged with the lethality of your figure. Eventually, the guilt would seep through his pores, and the chemical reaction would wash his face of your blood. He would return with a silver plated tin bracelet and a few mangled words of affirmation.
“ Y/n, you know I love you. I didn’t mean a word of it Mi Amore. You are the most beautiful demon this side of hell. I just get so upset sometimes there’s nothing else I can do. I can’t control my anger Amorcito, you know that.”
It’s not that he couldn’t control his anger, he was fully capable. He just didn’t. He never thought it was important to try. Even in his time on Earth, he didn’t care to put forth the effort. He was born with distain and died with detestation. He had always been this way. The guilt he felt afterward would never amount to the freedom found in his bloodied hands. There wasn't a finite limit to the apologies he could patch the holes he punched into your heart with. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. Any remorse he felt would slip from his conscience like every instance before it. It made sense how quickly he was able to rise into over lord status.
Your focus shifts to the cherry fabric folded beside of you. You haphazardly grab the dress, lifting it over your head. Its crystal beads babbling in your ear as you slide it on. For a moment, the ghost of your human body silhouettes your demonic figure in the mirror. Distant memories began to bubble up to the surface. In the true spirit of avoidance, you hopelessly shut them out as you grabbed your satin purse and walked out the door.
As you left the building the newly warmed breeze swirled through your hair. The sunny weather practically lifting your wings for you as you flew towards the club. You reveled in the distance it granted you from your life. From the above clouds, Hell was actually rather pretty. The seemingly dull color scheme found a bit more variation the higher you flew. The different areas of the city blending into one. With each flap of your wings, the clouds whispered murmurs of freedom into your ears. For just a moment, it almost didn’t feel like hell.
The rest of the flight is relatively peaceful, excluding the occasional scream from the city below. Eventually you arrive at the club and head to your dressing room. You plop down on the velvety plush sofa seated against the wall. It was still a bit early for places, so you elected to read one of Angel’s trashy magazine to pass the time. A ginger knock at the door draws your focus from celebrity scandals and tv drama.
“Amorcito”
Valentino’s voice worms itself into your ear. He leans against the door frame looking for any indication of fear on your face. He didn’t want to scare you off before he had the chance to explain himself. You shoot him a tired glare and return to your magazine. Even if you wanted to answer it’s not like you had the ability to.
“Right, I forgot.” He muses, his smirk practically bleeding into his eyes. With a wave of his hand , the sigil on your wrist begins to spark in a hot pink glow. In a puff of smoke, your voice returns to you.
“Do you need something Val” you ask. It comes out a bit raspier than you had intended. Hopefully he didn't take it as a form of aggression. You had somehow landed yourself in his good graces, and you didn’t want to fall from them any sooner than you had to.
“I can’t have you sitting silent for your dear clients now can I y/n?”
You didn’t respond. Mentally, you rolled your eyes. The statement was laughable. He would tear your soul to pieces if he could hear the sarcasm racketing around your brain at the current moment.
“Mi amor, you know I didn’t mean it. I can’t have my favorite muñeca upset with me, can I?”
You stay silent. Your body still wept with the soreness of the night before, but he had come here with the expectation you would nurse his pride back to health.
“You know that I love you baby” His tone was permeated with an emotion you couldn't quite place. For the first time, the desperation on his face surpassed the bloodlust. It lacked his usual innuendos and crude curses. If you hadn't known better you might have believed he really did- yet something deep within you really did want to believe he could be good. Maybe he didn't love you but he did feel slightly sorry and maybe that would be enough. You stood up from the sofa and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I know you do Val. Don't worry about it" The words are sweet but the emotion behind them is entirely dead. His arm slinked around your waist, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips.
"I want to thank you, for the dress. Its really beautiful. You have great taste” You added. Your hand layered on top of his, a gentle, but very obviously fake smile curving into your lips. Val loved compliments, the antennae on his forehead usually perked up whenever he received one.
To your surprise, he started to laugh, his shoulders shaking in its ferocity. “ Y/n you can’t be serious.”
You didn’t really understand what was funny or why you were nervously laughing along with him. You didn’t have to know why, you just had to go along with it. If you had to guess, he was probably intoxicated in one way or another. Most of the other performers and employees constantly were on some level. It would make sense if he was too.
“I’m almost insulted you would even pretend that I would put you in something that tacky, and not to mention conservative. I treat you better than that don’t I?”
With that, you were even more confused..Did he not gift you the dress? Where the hell else would it come from? You couldn't even begin to craft a response. You had to come up with something quickly, and improvisation(lying) was not your best skill. Your mind darted from one lame excuse to another. You didn’t have time to think critically about it you just had to say something.
“Yeah I thought it would be a funny joke, I agree it is a bit old fashioned, It definitely needs a little update..I liked the color though.” You lied straight through your teeth. It wasn't clear if he had bought into your practically incoherent rambling. As all good liars do, you dug the hole a few feet deeper with a few more details to seal the deal. “I wasn’t sure how to alter it so I thought I’d ask you for your opinion”.
Even if the excuse was lame, it covered all the bases.
“In my opinion we shred it” His quiet laugh sounded egotistical to say the least. If something or someone didn't fit his taste he saw no reason why it should exist.
Disappointment drapes your frame from the tips of your horns to the bottom of your heels. Even if the dress had apparently spawned from some freaky stalker, you really did like it.
“Are you sure I couldn’t just wear it as it is for one night? I could add a slit or something for the next time "Hope laced your bargain as you spoke. You knew he would probably say no but you couldn't help but ask.
“Y/n, Baby, as hot as I think you look in anything. This dress is going to need some serious alterations if you expect to wear it in front of our rowdy crowd. I can't let you go out there dressed like a nun, it would be awful for business” His face twists into a sly sneer. An idea bubbled on the surface of his thoughts.Before you can register what is happening, his hands are tracing the outline of your hips. Each separated claw of his fingers ran down your body until they stopped just above the outer edge of each thigh. On the surface the action didn't exhibit his typically harmful nature, but if you dared to look even a fraction of an inch closer you would see its minatory subtext.
“Don’t worry, I think we can figure out something simple out for tonight”. His fingers draw together into a unified line. He digs his nails in a little deeper into you as he drags them down your leg until they reach the floor. He had effectively sliced a high slit on both sides of the dress, with little to no effort. He had pushed a little too deeply in some areas, small pricks of blood leaked from a few irregularly shaped scratches in consequence.
“You look like perfection in red baby”, he breaths out. He stayed crouched on the floor for a moment. You couldn’t tell if he was admiring the surprisingly straight lines of his work or the dots of blood that speckled your skin. He takes your hand in his and places a wet kiss on your wrist where the sigil had been burned into your skin.
“I can’t wait to see you shine tonight Amorcito”
He kissed up your arm as he rose from the floor. The way his tongue slithered around your forearm made you dreadfully uncomfortable. The feeling was slimy and otherwise indescribable. You were almost grateful you didn’t have the words to describe your disgust so that the feeling would die with you instead of being passed around to others by language.
You were eternally grateful when he finally walked through the exit. He was finished with his fun with you, at least for now.The club had opened a little more than ten minutes ago. As its owner, he had an obligation to fulfill his duties (flirt with hot guys) ,and supervise the club floor (get blackout drunk and fuck aforementioned hot guys ). Val loved to watch as sinners got down and dirty in the corners of his dimly lit clubs. It was a bit of an ego boost to know he had helped create an environment that led to that sort of thing. He enjoyed the epigrammatic conversations and miscellaneous substance his customers brought with them. He was great at sharing when it came to things that weren’t his own. He loved to hear them praise his accomplishments, and disclose the desire they shared for him and his performers almost as he loved to get high. By the look of tonights crowd, he was in for another pleasurable evening, or so he thought.
A curt laugh track interrupted the regularly scheduled cycle of conversation. Val’s head practically spun backwards upon noticing the deer eared demon lounging at the edge of the balcony.
"What the fuck is he doing here" Val grunted under his breath. He was supposed to be dead.
Alastor, apparently, never received the memo. He sat with a glass of indifferent whiskey in the VIP segment of the balcony above. He was fitted in a well cut vermilion pin stripe suit and a pair of wing tipped oxfords. Despite his polished exterior and perpetual smile, his eyes were glossed in boredom.
The conversations of lower demons never really intrigued him, they didn't speak much about anything outside of the bounds of recreational drug use. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he had spent time in that particular circle back in his younger days. Perhaps it was the drastic change of aesthetic, or maybe the culture surrounding it had just shifted too much for his liking, but it just didn’t appeal to him anymore. Alastor found the environment dreadfully exhausting. The distinct loud bump of electronic base and synthesized beats made it hard to hear his own thoughts. He was in for a long boring night. There really wasn’t anything more for him to do than pass judgment on the tasteless decor.
He looked around at the tacky overtly sexual paintings hung against the walls. It was one of Valentino’s classier clubs, but that doesn’t mean the interior designer wasn’t entirely delusional when they picked out its color pallet. For lack of a better word, it was just ugly. The Deep pinks and vibrant reds of the walls accented the white porcelain pillars that framed them. (Vaguely reminiscent of a tampon) The dark purple of the leathery chairs somehow blended in with the black marble tile in such a hideous way the word “unity” didn’t even begin to spark his mind.
With the exception of its more intimate performance space and higher end clientele, it wasn’t that much different than the typical club experience Valentino provided. It still featured his usual sex rooms and coke lined tables, despite its overall calmer energy. Alastor didn’t understand how you ended up in a place like this. It didn’t seem like you. He had instructed the newest soul under his contract to follow you and figure out your daily routine and “basic facts of life”. He would never admit it, but he was mostly curious to learn of your relationship status. He wanted to know if you had gotten married or if you had moved on. He had been dead for years ,it would make sense if you had. He didn’t want to step back into your life unless he knew everything.He needed to know what approach would work best on you. “Evidently” you weren’t just outwardly spouting that information into the hilltops. The poor soul came back with a list of two locations and not much else. Naturally, it didn’t get to live much longer. He was not a man to have his time wasted. If he wanted something done correctly the first time he should have just done it himself. So here he was, awaiting your performance.
Valentino walked across the crowded floor, his clenched fists glued to his sides. Alastor’s bored expression made his blood boil. He carelessly dodged dancing couples and trays of champagne in his quiet anger. Val never liked that old timey prick or his rickety dated voice. It grated his ears endlessly, not to mention he was just flat out annoying. If Val wanted to listen to some random lanky old man’s diet British accent and senseless uppity rambles; he would have turned on Downton Abby or some other old pretentious shit. Each step he took towards the radio demon deepened the scowling smirk growing on his face. If Alastor was going to ever so nonchalantly seat him self and a glass of whiskey in the VIP section of HIS club, at least one of them going to have his fun with it.
“I didn't take you to be a fan of my work Alastor, lovely to see you as always” Val slid into the booth across from him. The remaining groups still seated at the surrounding tables grabbed their drinks and found a better place to be. It was a well known fact the two of them weren’t friends
“I am most decidedly not! however the streets of hell will not stop praising a certain canary singing on your steps, and I am by far intrigued" His eyed narrowed as his grin grew wider.
“Oh really? It is my little siren you are interested in? Don’t let her pretty little face fool you, she’s a real bitch to work with. She thinks shes hot shit just because the sound of her voice is enough to chain any demon.” He feigned disinterest, flicking his nails to the side to observing their color.
“Oh really~Where ever did you find her? Surely if she is this talented I would have heard of her already" Agitation seethed through Alastor's voice. He had never liked Valentino, he found his methods to be crude and unseemly. The way he spoke of you hazed Alastor's vision in permanent red. He had killed far greater demons for far less than the disrespect he had sent your way. However, he knew he couldn't act on that urge quite yet. He was on a mission. He needed to know more about why you were here first in the first place. No one here would know better than the sleazy club owner himself.
“ I don’t really think that’s your business" Valentino accused, venom dripping from his tongue. He didn't really care why the radio demon had taken such a fast interest in a lowly sinner like you. It didn't matter. It gave him something to work with. He had something he didn’t. Pride is a fickle thing, he could use this to get under his skin.
He didn't want a physical altercation by any means, not in his own territory anyway. Vox would never let him live it down if he started a fight in his own club and accidentally tore it to the ground in the process. A verbal sparring session would have to do for now. Val loved starting any sort of argument he could conceive.
"My little dove tends to shy away from the limelight. She used to do all of her performances behind a mask, but don’t you worry I was able to coax her out of it." (are you secretly the masked singer?? omg) "You'll be in for a wonderful show tonight." Pride overtook Valentino's usually mendacious features as he spoke. He had something Alastor didn't. Val wanted nothing more than to spark jealousy in his heart. Alastor, wasn't oblivious to his intentions, it just wasn't his primary focus. More-so, he felt frustrated with questions he couldn't ask. You couldn't have been in Hell for more than a few days. How many performances had you really had time for? The possibility you had existed down here for any longer than that didn't exist to him.
"Now Valentino, there's no reason to be secretive, unless you have something to hide. Surely if this woman is as fantastic as you say she is, there is no need to hide the details of her origin, I'm sure it must be quite the story" A deceitful glimmer coruscated his smile, as he took another careless swig of whiskey. His pointed fingers gripped tighter around the glass, cracking its edge.
" Actually-it’s the opposite, trust me its not even worth mentioning” Val laughed. “Why not enjoy the present and focus on her current skillset a? Surely you must have seen her around somewhere, she’s a real star on film." His tone was maliciously sweet, but the dry rasp of his voice revealed the truth. A dark glint flashed in his eyes as he thought of your previous work.
Getting information out of "barney the big purple pimp" Valentino was going to be harder than Alastor had previously anticipated. Any information he might’ve had on you was under lock and key. At this point, he considered just ripping off Valentino's stupid little egg shaped head and calling it a day. He didn't understand what you saw in him or this dingy sweat stained bar. In your time on earth, the two of you had spent many nights dancing together in the speakeasies and glitzy clubs of New Orleans. This wasn't the type of establishment you would usually go in for. He had always known you to see the best in others, even if they so evidently didn't deserve it. You sharpened your sword for those you deemed worthy even if they despised you for it. If you were here it must meant you had seen something worth redemption within him.
"You must be very proud of her accomplishments to rave on about her in this way" Alastor’s voice was fitted in the same snarky tone you often took with Valentino, but unlike you, he could tear the whole club apart with a snap of his fingers. Val didn’t want to deal with that, not here. He would have to wait and slit the radio demon's throat outside of his territory.
"Enjoy the show Alastor.” He quipped promptly showing the conversation to its end. Valentino walked away before he could get in a word otherwise.
Val didn’t know the nature of Alastor’s apparent attraction towards you, but he personally knew the pain desperately wanting something you couldn't have caused. Ironically, Alastor was the indirect cause of that familiarity. Through Valentino's partnership with Vox, obsession had sprouted. Something about the way his televised voice distorted in anger drew him in. He had been caught on his snarky personality and quick wit almost as much as the pitiful reassurances the TV demon would occasionally throw his way. He knew the feelings he had amounted for Vox were never going to be reciprocated. He would never look his way so long as the radio demon walked the streets of hell. Even if Valentino couldn’t bring about his revenge in his typical violent way, he was determined to get it. You were the key he didn’t know he had. After all, no sinner could resist the call of your sweet song or the appeal of your hips. The radio demon would be no different.
Eventually, one of Val’s assistants called you to places. You walk through the backstage area, a trail of glittery red streaming behind you. You always loved the moment before the show began. It was typically quiet, everyone attended to their own business. They rarely stopped to bother you, it offered you a moment of order before the chaos this performance would plunge you into. You grab a sugar rimmed shot glass from underneath the bar cart left for the performers. You didn’t bother to read the labels on the bottle as you poured a heavy handed shot. As soon as the liquid touched your lips you realized it had been gin. Despite the burning in your throat, and the sour taste it left in your mouth, you refilled the glass a few more times. On some level, you felt guilty for the amount of alcohol you had just consumed.On a deeper level, you knew you couldn’t make it through a set without it. It was a means to an end, nothing more.
Valentino’s compulsion for revenge had led him towards the velvety amethyst curtains of the stage you stood behind. Whatever good mood he was in earlier had vanished, his disposition was dripped in murderous rage. He storms up to you, roughly taking your chin in his hand.
“I don't fucking know why or how but the radio demon is here. You better make me look good-I’ve already throughly sung your praises and I will not be embarrassed in front of that shit head” He paced as he spoke hostility following at his heels. “For some reason, he has taken an interest in you. I need you to give an extra little show to the balcony he’s seated in the center. Hes the lanky washed out red asshole with the bitchy little antlers, you can’t miss him.” The words he had spoken jumbled in your brain. You weren’t really paying attention, the calming aura of the alcohol had begun to hit your system.
“I thought he was dead, are you sure it’s him?” you mumbled as you picked of the remaining sugar crystals from your glass.
You had briefly heard of the radio demon in your time-He hadn’t been around for years, most demons speculated that someone finally managed to kill him. He disappeared three years after your arrival in hell, but his methods left a lasting impression. The agonizing screams he had broadcasted still echoed in your dreams occasionally. However, despite your deeply rooted fear, you admired him on some level. He was clever to say the least, and his morals weren’t entirely questionable either. He thought dealing in cheaper souls was crass and frankly unnecessary. He left weaker demons alone, unless they stepped in the way of his path.He wouldn’t pick a fight with anyone he didn’t deem strong enough to fight back.
His hands shoot against your throat, the force of the action drags you into sobriety. His fingers thrust deeper into your skin as he lifts you from the floor by your neck. He had a lot riding on this, and he wasn’t going to let your indifference ruin that. Your grasp on the shot glass loosens as your vision begins to spot from the lack of oxygen. It falls from your hand and shatters with the impact.
“Your job isn’t to ask questions, it’s to get out there and make me look good” he drags your body closer and growls into your ear.
He slams your body against the floor of fragmented glass. The sole of his foot makes contact with the palm of your hand, pushing the shards deeper into your skin. Crimson flowed through the wounds in a steady pour. Hot tears took residence in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.
“ If you fuck this up for me, I’ll do a lot worse than just take your voice Y/n. You don’t want to see me angry. I promise you, you won’t like it.” His foot presses harder against your skin. His dark tone sends shivers down your spine. He had released his grasp on you, but the syllables that slithered out of his mouth constricted around your throat.
Despite your decision not to cry, the tears began to spill. They weren’t entirely motivated by the pain. The situation had become too similar to those that had existed in your life, and this was your body’s reaction to that. The heat from his glare could have cauterized your wounds. He removed his foot from your hand as he crouched down next to your tear stained figure. His fingers graze the edges of your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he wipes droplets from your face.
“I can’t wait to see you tonight Amorcito, you always put on such a good show for me.” He kisses your injured hand, the cuts begin to close as his lips come into contact with your skin. He licks the remaining blood from his lips and returns to the club floor- leaving you in a pool of maroon colored regret and splintering glass.
You watch the stage manager’s eyes roll as they grab a mop to clean up the mess. Whatever they were getting payed, it wasn’t enough. Although the ordeal wasn’t out of the ordinary, it was definitely inconvenient. You stand up from the floor brushing the remaining glass off of your dress and walk through the curtains and onto the stage. Even without a physical mask, you were still wearing one. You dawned a bright sultry smile and an uppity attitude as you waved to your adoring fans. At times the outlandishly theatric persona could be fun. The ecstatic cheers of the crowd after each movement made you feel powerful in an odd way. The attention often fueled your performance into the more seductive destination Val had wanted to begin with. It was a means to an end, nothing more.
“Good evening to all of my lovely sinners in the audience” The sound of your voice echoed over the endless chatter of the club. You sat down at the edge of the rounded stage, your legs dangling over its edge. The short demon in front of you practically drooled as your body edged a little more off the platform in his direction. You noticed his reaction and wanted to take things a step further. Your wings spread, taking you closer to the table he sat at, the edge of your finger tilting his head up to meet your own.
“I’ve got a wonderful show in store for just you tonight” Seduction over took your tone as you blew the demon a kiss leaving the entire table absolutely dumbfounded. You travel back to the stage with various sexual remarks towards the other inhabitants. You sit back on the stage, slowly extending your legs to the side, crossing them as you do. You tease the slits in your dress to the side revealing a bit more skin. The patrons erupt into a sea deafening screams.
The lights suddenly cut out, you dissipated with them. The shred of an electric guitar echoed throughout the space. An array of red and purple spotlights flood the center of the stage. You reappear in a puff of smoke as they do. The music was a bit “edgier” than what you’d usually go for. The genres you listened to spanned a vast array of styles, but you usually preferred to sing the softer tunes of the earlier decades. Valentino’s typical clientele however, needed a newer, rougher pop/rock sound. The drum set clicks in tandem with the percussive click of your heels as you begin your dance.
A wickedly wide grin stretches across your face, you were ready to start the show. You began to sing.
“I heard he sang a good song
I heard he had a style”
This was your compromise. You could sing anything you wanted to so long as you updated the instrumentals. Most of the people in the club were too wasted to listen to the lyrics anyway. It didn’t really matter what you sang as long as you sounded good and looked hot doing it. Hell’s population would eat up anything you served them. Their mouths began to water as you drop to the floor, arching your back away from them. The music flowed through you, awakening a deep sensuality in your movement . Each twist of your hips accented the intense chords and high hat hits of the accompaniment. Your hair formed a halo around you as you turned onto your back. Your legs extend into the air earning an influx of vulgar cheers from the surrounding demons. Any softness your voice had once held disappeared as growled into the next phrase.
“And so I came to see him
To listen for a while”
You slowly slid up from the floor, your hands following the shape of your curves until they reached pit of your neck. Your fingers splayed against its circumference as you rolled your eyes back into your head. You glanced up to the balcony to make sure the radio demon was watching, the dim lighting prevented you from seeing anything more than his silhouette.
Alastor wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the glance you threw him, or your performance. On the one hand, he was endlessly enamored with you. Alastor would have dedicated the rest of his life to sing your praises in that moment if you had just asked him to. He loved to listen to you sing and watch you dance in any context.
On the other hand however, it made him extraordinarily jealous. He hated the lewd comments and desire filled glances of the other demons around him. It made sense they were attracted to someone like you, but that doesn’t mean he liked that they were. He would remember each face that dared utter such filthy things about you, and deal with them later. His attention shifted back to your voice as you spun your voice into a decadent riff.
“And there he was this young boy
A stranger to my eyes”
You turned upstage to the silver pole that spun in its center. Hundreds of eyes glazed over in pure lust as your spine pressed against the pole. You were practically suffocated with screams as your form flipped upside down. You dropped one arm from the pole, the tips of your wings grazing the floor as your newly freed hand followed the lines of your body.
Your exaggerated and frankly pornographic expressions as you twisted against the pole made Alastor apprehensive. The feeling of unease was not caused by disgust but concern. As much as he loved to listen to you sing, this didn’t feel right for him to watch. It felt too fake. You looked far too uncomfortable for his liking.He had seen you in a more intimate light before. Even decades later the mere thought of your gentle gasps and fluttering lashes dragged him up from hell and sent him straight to heaven. He was familiar with the grind of your hips against his own, and the feeling of your hands in his. He knew every freckle on your body and the exact degree of your spine’s curvature. He loved nothing more than to worship each fold in your figure. He adored the gentle light that always seemed to flicker in your eyes in those sensitive moments. He reveled in your loving glances and gentle touches he was not bothered with the sexuality of it all but rather its performative nature. This felt too over the top. Despite your energetic movements and sensual smile, your eyes were cold and dead. He didn’t want his memory caught on your legs wrapped around his waist or his head between your thighs if it was just a performance. It didn’t feel right to. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and focused on the sound of your voice. Even with its dolorous tamber the whisper of your gentle heart found its way to seep through.
"Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words
Killing me softly with his song"
You notice Val seated between two tall blonde demons with their legs crossed over his. He was very clearly not impressed with them or your movements on the pole. His disinterest grew with each sip of his drink. He gives you a pressing look. In that moment you knew exactly what he wanted. He had had enough of your stalling. You looked good but you needed to look better.
"Killing me softly with his song
Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly with his song"
With a slight roll of your eyes, you fly up to the balcony. You place yourself onto the thick marbled railing with your back to the radio demon. With a quick twist your of your hips, you straddle the banister your body rolling against it ever so slightly. You make direct eye contact with the patron in the center booth. He wore a mask crafted in wilted black rose petals and the scent of death, but underneath he held your late lover’s face. His deep red eyes meet your own e/c ones The glimmer of his previously golden swirled dark brown eyes clashed against his current ghostly red ones He brushed a strand of his straightened two toned hair to the side of his face. He carried the same nose, body, and expression as Alastor- Your Alastor. You turn upstage to compose yourself. You sway your hips to the beat of the music in order to keep up appearances. You turn your weary head behind you to his table to make sure you hadn’t imagined it. Even in its outstretched state, his smile gave him away. It really was him. After years of searching, you had finally found him, or better yet, he found you. For just a moment, you had forgotten your penance and your heart flowed with oceans of love. You floated within them in pure ecstasy. In that moment, and animosity you held for him faded away with the weight of your excitement.
"I felt all flushed with fever
Embarrassed by the crowd"
Abruptly the realization hits you, he was seated where the radio demon should have been- that must mean that Alastor; Your Alastor, was the radio demon. Your mind flipped to the initial radio broadcast he first spoke to you with, as well as the note signed “yours truly”. Alastor had used that phrase so often as a sign off from the radio show…..Perhaps you weren’t the sharpest little crayon in the demon filled box- considering the embarrassingly long time it took you to put the pieces together.
"I felt he found my letters
And read each one out loud"
Realizing this sent a wave of relief through you. Perhaps he could free you from this life, he was one of the strongest demons in hell. If anyone could break your contract with Valentino, it would be him...Would he even consider it? Your mind swirled in a storm of questions. Why the sudden change? As the relief of the initial realization began to fade and a new understanding took root. He had left you in life, why would he want to help you now?
You couldn’t help but wonder why he was really here. Considering his previous track record, nothing made sense. Why would he speak to you within his broadcast, or gift you the dress, or show up to your workplace if he hadn’t payed you any mind in such a long time?
He must have wanted something from you. That would be the only logical reason for his sudden appearance. If he truly had always been the radio demon, he held power. He had all of the necessary resources to find you and he never did. He didn’t need to.
"I prayed that he would finish
But he just kept right on"
You think back to the various gifts he would purchase you before he asked something of you, or the roses he would send to your apartment if you two had an argument in your life together. Your years of wondering why he had left boiled down to one simplistic answer…He had always just needed something. The more you thought on this, the more painfully obvious it became. He wasn’t here because he loved you. He was only here because you had become convenient again.The second he deemed you impractical, he would leave you as he had before.
"Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words"
You fly away from the balcony, sliding down the metal pole in the center of the stage to reach the floor. You were thankful the stage lights blinded you from his pressing gaze once you were on the ground. You would ignore the balcony entirely for the remainder of the performance. It didn’t matter if Valentino would be upset, you couldn’t bear to look at Alastor anymore- Yet even with your newfound distance, he had chained you to memory. You were transported back to the downtown apartment in which you had previously spent so many hours with him in.
1930 New Orleans: Your apartment
The candlelit room was a patchwork of miscellaneous vintage furnishings and modern decorative trinkets. You had moved into your apartment not long after your father had passed. Most of the items within it were gifted to you upon his death. He preferred victorian architecture over all else, it was natural his taste in interior design would follow. You leaned against the sage patterned love seat with a cooling cup of tea in hand. The star speckled sky, and tepid air of late April seep through your opened window.
You awaited the arrival of your lover. Alastor wasn’t a man to be late. He was meticulously early and always prepared. His absence had begun to torment you in anxiety. The grandfather clock stationed in the corner of the room struck midnight, furthering your worries. He was supposed to arrive at 7:30, obviously it was long past that.
He had promised to take you out dancing to make up for the late hours he had begun to keep at the studio. He had become more withdrawn than you cared to admit. He disappeared for days at a time. On the few days you managed to get ahold of him, he dismissed you, insisting he needed to keep working on his show. It aggravated you to no end, but you would never want to be another obstacle on the way to his dreams. It was easier to let it go and enjoy the time you did have with him.
You had the bad habit of jumping to the worst scenario.You didn’t live in the safest sector of the city, it was entirely possible he had been attacked along the way. Your mind shifts to the uprising of missing person’s cases New Orleans had been plagued with. The media speculated a killer of some kind, but the police department denied those theories. They hadn’t found any of the bodies, and refused to believe they were going to.
If he wasn’t here within the next hour, you were going to search for him yourself.
"Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song"
An abrupt knock steals you from your worries, you rush to its source without a second thought. You open the door to the dark curly haired man you had been waiting for. To your surprise, his usually tidy hair was unkempt and rumpled around his newly bruised face. His disheveled blood stained clothing reflected the crimson pouring from his nose. You froze like a deer in headlights, it was one hell of a way to show up for a date.
"Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song"
“Oh my god” you whispered under your breath. Your hands appear at the sides of his face tracing each little scratch and the deep bruise forming around his eye. “Love..what happened? Are you okay?” You stuttered out.
He sent you a sheepish smile, not wanting to raise any concerns.“May I come in” he asked placing his hand on top of your own.
His “previous activities” were rather impromptu. Usually, his targets were much better thought out, and handled much more methodically. Although he enjoyed the anguished screams of his victims, he would never hurt anyone who wasn’t actively or indirectly hurting you, the same applied to this kill. The timing wasn’t ideal but it was a necessity.
He had decided to walk to the flower shop from the station so he could surprise you with a fresh bouquet before your date. He felt tremendously guilty for his recent absences, and wanted to alleviate that with a gift. Even if he missed you dreadfully, New Orleans birthed the scum of the earth. It was more important to keep you protected than to keep long expanses of your company. He would never forgive himself if something he could have prevented happened to you.
Upon his arrival into the shop, he was rather annoyed with the short brutish man that held up the line. He shamelessly flirted with the owner of the shop, who very clearly did not care for his advances. Alastor wouldn’t stand for such behavior. It was better to deal with the issue then instead of allowing you to continue to exist in a world full of degenerates. He would do anything to keep you safe.
Once the man had finally left, he followed him until they reached a quiet alley. He pulled the knife from his coat pocket, ready to strike. He stabbed the man’s back and twisted the knife in as far as it would go. However, the man was a bit stronger than he anticipated. It was the first time anyone had bothered to fight back.
His most recent kill had gotten sloppy, and here he was covered in blood on your doorstep in consequence. He never wanted any of the evidence to be tied to you, so he had learned to keep his distance. On this particular occasion however, he didn’t have much of a choice. He had dismembered the body and left it tucked in an alleyway, to be disposed of later. The only evidence remaining was the blood staining his clothes. If someone saw him walking through town in his disorderly state, that would raise questions; questions that could indirectly put you into harms way. Although this wasn’t ideal, it was the only option. -Besides, he had accidentally missed your date, you were probably worried sick over him.
“Yes of course I’m sorry, please follow me” You stammer out grasping his hand and leading him to the bathroom. You weren’t entirely sure of the nature of his bedraggled state, but you were determined to fix it. You reach under the sink and dig out the first aid kit you kept on hand.
You reach for the bandages and a dampen a small cloth. You press it against his bloodied nose and place a gentle kiss on his forehead.
“Are you alright” You ask hesitantly. Your mind burned with questions, what had happened to bring him here in such a state?
“It’s nothing I can’t manage I’m sorry to drag you into this.” He replied, remorse seeping into his tone.
“No it’s alright I’m just glad you’re okay.” You responded as you began to bandage the scuffs on his hands. From his demeanor, you gathered he didn’t really want to talk about this, but you couldn’t help but ask.
“What happened Al?” You questioned. Your shoulders were slumped in his direction while you carefully washed the cuts on his face.
“It’s not important my dear.” He responded with a nonchalant smile.
"Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly with his song"
His indifferent attitude did anything but calm you.
“You can’t show up on my doorstep like this, and not expect me to be concerned for you. Please, just tell me what happened love” You begged.
“I had something to take care of. It’s not important” He dismissed you again as you unbuttoned the clasps of his shirt to tend to anything below the surface. Through his bloodied exterior, you couldn’t discern what stemmed from him or another person.
“Clearly-" you huffed. You examined the small contusions that littered his chest. “Please don’t run from me Al” Even though his injuries are less severe than you’d thought your lips contorted into a deep frown. “I’m worried about you.” Your e/c eyes bore into his smooth brown ones.
“I just.. got involved with the wrong person y/n, please save your worries for a worthy cause.” He murmured. He attempted to dissuade your worries with another smile, it only multiplied them.
“We should report this to the police Alastor I don’t care who you got involved with they don’t have a right to leave you like this” You urge, your fingers mindlessly trace the edges of each forming bruise.
“Y/n just drop it.” He finally snapped, his voice is intense and almost feral. His shoulders tense up almost as quickly as they release.
“Please”. He softens, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.
"He sang as if he knew me
In all my dark despair"
1930: New Orleans: Your apartment, six months later
Another pressing knock awakens you from your sleep. You didn’t even have it in you to be upset anymore. It had become habitual, he would show up on your doorstep a little before four in the morning speckled in bright red blood; just as he had done every few weeks for the last six months. It wasn’t worth asking for explanation anymore. He would ramble out the same tepid excuses and unconcerned reassurances.
You opened the door to his typical scarlet splatted clothing. The longer his little escapade expanded, the less injuries he sustained afterwards. It was a double edged sword. You were glad he never walked in branded in bruises or dripping his own blood, but it also made you apprehensive. How was he able to hurt another so easily with no more damage than the occasional scrape on his knuckles? Nothing about the entire affair made sense. You recall the vague details he had mentioned after the first incident. If he truly had been accidentally whisked into the company of the wrong individuals, why didn’t he just leave? He worked in radio, theoretically he could accomplish the same goal in a different location. There wasn’t anything to stop him. You had assured him you would drop everything and go with him if he only asked you to. New Orleans had no reason to hold onto you in his absence. You were a matching set.
With a small kiss between your drowsy eyes, he walked into your bedroom to shed his dirtied clothes. Upon his return, he flitted about your kitchen collecting the necessary materials to make you both a cup of tea. It was routine at this point. Accompanied by the smooth lull of the radio, you would drink your tea and chat. He was never at a loss for words, and you loved to listen. You didn’t really talk about anything meaningful, just whatever happened to cross his mind. You sit curled into his arms tea in hand. You couldn’t help but wonder why this was all happening. You wanted him to open up to you. It didn’t matter what the circumstances were. Maybe if he told you, you could find a way to help him out of this
“Al..why don’t we just leave here? I don’t like that you keep showing up like this. I promise I won’t be upset with whatever details it holds…I just want to know that you’re being safe.” You nestle your head into the crook of his neck, as you speak.
“My dear, we have been over this, it is nothing I can’t handle. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it” He smiles down at you and presses another kiss against your forehead. He admired your care, but he feared your judgement too harshly to admit the true details of his actions.
"And then he looked right through me
As if I wasn't there"
“This is the second time this week Alastor. I’ll support you through anything but I deserve to know the details”. You plead, lifting your head to better observe his features. He looked completely and entirely unbothered.
"And he just kept on singing
Singing clear and strong"
"y/n I'm telling you to drop it" His hand cups your cheek.
"No you don't get to tell me that anymore. I'm concerned for you Alastor.” Your voice gets louder as you pull away from his touch.
"I've told you before darling, you needn't worry" He tucks a stray loc of your hair behind your ear. "I promise I would never hide anything from you for longer than I needed to dear.I will always be truthful with you y/n” He pulls your body back into his lap as he speaks.
“ I just can’t tell you yet… It wouldn’t be right to involve you in this.” His voice is indistinct and distant, as his arms wrap around you into a tight hug.
“ I can’t risk you getting hurt, You are my perfection dear”
Your heart falls from your recollection as your body finally drops to the from the spinning pole. Alastor didn't end up keeping his promise of eventually veracity. How many other things did he simply “not tell you yet”.
"Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words"
You were convenient and gullible, you had loved him too much to even consider that he might have been hurting others and not a victim himself . You lived in the middle of the city, giving him a central location to act from. He hadn’t lied when he said you were perfect.
"Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song"
It was much deeper than you previously thought. You weren’t just someone he kept around for the occasional favor or entertainment. It was deeper than that. The bloodied clothes and unexplained absences finally made sense. He would’ve needed to harm a lot of people to hold such an astute amount of power upon his arrival in hell. You were the unknown tool that helped him reach that status.
"Telling my whole life with his words"
No wonder you ended up in hell. Any sinful actions you may have taken or blood on your hands was nothing in comparison to the amount he spilled with your help. You were nothing more than an accessory to his crimes. You had wasted your life on counterfeit kisses and meaningless utterances of love. You had wasted your afterlife believing they held some merit.
"Killing me softly with his song"
He didn’t come for you because he didn’t need anything from you. He never actually loved you enough to search for you beyond that.
The music crescendos into its final note. You take a slight bow as the crowd exploded into a sea of cheers.
“Thank you for being such a darling audience, I’ll be out to speak with you soon” you announce as you blow a kiss in their direction. Val would have to be mad later. You needed to get out of there
As soon you walked off stage, the lively armor of your theatrical persona was thrown aside, leaving nothing to guard your wounded heart. You stumble down the hall towards your dressing room ,a freshly opened bottle of wine in tow. You wanted nothing more than a moment of clear unfeeling peace. Valentino preferred you to mingle after a performance, but you needed to collect yourself and dampen your anger before you had to speak with your untamable fans. Alastor’s appearance had shaken you to your core in ways you weren’t prepared to confront. You didn’t have time to accurately process those emotions so you would settle for a second alone to compartmentalize. By the time you reach the dressing room’s door, the bottle in your hand is nearly empty. You turn the knob to reveal to a vase of crimson roses reflected in your mirror and the shadow of his antlers on your face.
“Why are you here.” You asked pointedly. Your voice held the typical icey air of a frigid hellish morning. You had no intention of letting him stay long enough to propose whatever twisted favor had brought him back to your door.
“It was you that contacted me dearest” He ignored the frostbite forming on his finger tips from your cold shoulder- His frankly untrue statement struck more than a few of your nerves.
“If I had, don’t you think I would have done it sooner?” You seethed with aggravation. Alastor hadn’t a clue as to why you were so cross with him. Perhaps guilt motivated your responses and he was simply caught in the overtly anguished crossfire. You had always been slightly oversensitive to your effect on him- maybe that was it?
“Now my dear you haven’t been in hell very long, you mustn’t blame yourself for needing a bit of extra time to understand your skillset. I was pleasantly surprised to hear your sweet voice interrupt my usual broadcast- Although, I must say I wasn’t aware you were so interested in continuing show business after death. Had you asked before finding your own way, I could have connected you with a classier establishment"
“A bit of extra time is the understatement of the hour” you huff under your breath.
“Most demons take weeks to learn control, you on the other hand managed to do so in a couple of days you really should be proud” He sent you a reassuring smile.
You laugh dryly, confusion overtakes his features and seeps into his smile.
“Oh sure you’re absolutely right! I should be proud it only took a day or so- give or take a few years” The sarcasm radiating from your response would have slit the throat of a lesser demon. This confused Alastor even further.
“y/n, how long have you been in hell.”Bewilderment etches across his lips, he had never considered the possibility you weren’t another new arrival before then.
“Ten years, eleven next week.” you admit. His eyes grow wide in remorse.
“Dear I am so very sorry I didn’t find you sooner. Between your anonymity and my little leave of absence, we must have just missed each other. I assure you had I known you were here I would have been chasing at your heels.” Despite his deeply genuine intentions, you perceived his words as nothing more than another manipulative tactic to persuade you into whatever twisted plan he had in store.
“Please- Al, you can cut the act already. To be entirely frank, I don’t need any more of your sweetly worded lies, I know who you’ve always really been now. I’m telling you it’s not going to work anymore- I’m not that stupid.” Your retort was accompanied by the roll of his eyes.
“You left me without a care in the world, and with a child for that matter. It stands to reason your sentiment wouldn’t change, even in hell. I don’t care for whatever old favor you’re trying to call in. I’m not helping you.” Even across the room, the edges of his raven tipped hair practically singed at the weight of your words. For the first time in his hellish existence, his everlasting smile dropped. He didn’t know he was a father. He had died before you had chance to tell him.
“ We had a child?” His voice is weak and raw, entirely devoid of its usual crackle. His eyes hold a deep sadness you had only ever seen in your own reflection. Your posture visibly softens at his sorrowful reaction. The realization hit you: He never got to meet his son. At least you were granted a moment with your baby swaddled in your arms. Alastor hadn't been so lucky.
“ Yes.. his name is Eugene. He turned 50 last year...He was such a beautiful baby. He had your brown eyes and curly hair. I swear I could almost hear you in his laughter.” The corners of your mouth begin to peak up in response to the remembrance. Despite the short time he had been a part of your life, Eugene was everything you lived for. You endured every sleazy comment and blood splattered old fashioned in the hopes you could see him again. You even went as far to marry the bar’s immoral owner. You suffered a lifetime of abuse and the plight of that man's own children on the half hearted promise you might have been able to regain custody in your newfound stability.
“Did he live a good life?” He was overtaken with dream-like sun spotted snapshots of you and his son. The hypothetical moments alleviated his guilt slightly. At least in his absence you weren’t entirely alone. Alastor's legs carried him to your side. He wanted nothing more than to wipe the melancholy from your face and offer you comfort. His hand gently outstretched to your shoulder. The silence that overtook the room was hinted in comfort instead of animosity.
“ Yes..he did" you finally respond.
Your mind wanders to the flower shop he owned downtown and its painted green exterior. The lavender cursive of the sign above it read "Eugene's Fanciful Flowers". He was a complete and total dork, just like his father. The older you got, the more you found yourself walking past it. He had sent you a bouquet of daffodils once. You kept them in the vase next to your bed long after they had begun to wilt and shrivel. You weren't sure how he knew of your existence or even where you lived. He was only 18 months old the last time you had held him in your arms. You weren't really his mother, just a circumstance of his birth. You never had the chance to watch him grow.
"I just never got to see it” You snap out of your memory inspired daze.
He never got to meet his son because he chose not to. Any remorse you felt was quickly scrapped from your system. You could have watched your son’s mind grow and learned the nuances of his little voice if Alastor had just stayed. That’s all he had to do. You didn’t care if your eventual marriage with him would have crumbled in the process. For all you cared, he could continue his distant nature and whatever wicked deeds he pleased, just as long as he stayed…He made his choice to walk that crestfallen path alone, separating you from him and your son in the process. You shrugged off his soothing hand and turned away, effectively burning a fire flecked wall between the two of you.
“I had to give him up. The radio show shut down in your absence. I couldn’t support the both of us with what little I made at the bar.” Bitterness seeps into your previously softened voice. You weren’t going to allow yourself to be manipulated by his falsified concern. The mirage of imagined moments you had collected of your son over the years flashed through your mind all at once. You were devastated by the memories you didn’t get the chance to make.
“Y/n.. I am so sorry.” He is nearly frozen in place, shocked by the sudden shift in your demeanor. If you weren’t so angry, the pathetic broken string of words would have shattered your desolate heart.
“ You can stop pretend to care Alastor. You had no issue leaving us then- What do you really want from me? Just get it over with so I can go back to forgetting you exist.” The short horns peaking out from your hair nearly doubled in size. You were growing frustrated with his half assed excuses and blatant lies. In that moment, you didn’t care if he disappeared entirely. The deserted lovesick island you had so often found yourself stuck on burned to the ground in the back of your mind.
“Why would I, an overlord, want something from a weaker demon such as yourself. I don’t know who placed that foolish notion into your head, but I assure you, I don’t want anything from you” Anguish accented the pungent inflection of each word. Alastor was growing tired with your antics he didn’t want anything from you other than your forgiveness. He had apologized for the first time in decades, and meant it. Why couldn’t you just accept that? Your resentful resolve exasperated him to no end.
“ I just wanted to see you again, I thought you might like the same, evidently I was wrong.” His typical smile pressed into an uncharacteristic sharp line.
“Will you please just stop?” Your voice raised far more than a few decibels. He couldn’t take the hint, and you were not sober enough to keep reiterating it.
“Darling it has been agony sitting around waiting for you here, only to find out you’re cavorting around with Valentino. Leaving you wasn’t my fault, you can’t blame me for something I didn’t wish to do. As much as I wish to I can’t control my circumstances. I’ve already apologized I don’t know what else you want me to do." He would gladly do anything you asked to mend the bridges you had set ablaze in your unreasonable fury. He hadn’t meant to die, it just sort of happened. Were you really blame him for his untimely demise?
“Didn’t wish to do? How stupid do you think I am?” You scoffed.
“The only thing I want you to do is leave.” Your voice wavered but the sentiment was strong. He could almost see the fighting spirit that traced your form. Alastor couldn’t help but laugh. He had done nothing but answer your call, and you had the audacity to reject his answer. If you wanted to fight, he would fight with you. If nothing else, it kept you talking to him.
“Naturally, because you are just so much happier leashed to Valentino and spinning around that pole” He taunted, his scornful sneer seeping into his cadence.
"Believe me I'd rather be anywhere else-" You snapped. He had added fuel to the fire and the weight of its introduction flooded you with spite.
“Don’t pretend that you’re any different from him Alastor. You are two sides of the same coin- except unlike you, Valentino actually owns my soul. I have to put up with this shit from him. I’m under no obligation to take it from you. I am not a toy for you to pick up and put down whenever you need something to play with- I’m not some tool for you to use whenever decide you need a favor.”
You didn’t really believe the words coming from you, you just wanted to hurt him the way he hurt you. Evidently it worked a little better than you anticipated. His eyes contorted into the shape of radio dials, the static erupting from his core in tandem. His height over you nearly tripled, as the horns on his head wept out jet black roots that stretched into the ceiling. His voice distorts into a vicious growl.
“You don’t get to stand here and pretend that I am entirely to blame. It isn’t my fault your life went so poorly. Let’s think reasonably for a moment, provided you haven’t completely lost it. You could have made any number of different choices, but you went with the easiest option, just as you always have. As for your current situation, you did the same. Although I regret not finding you sooner, you clearly had the ability to reach out if you truly needed something. You don’t get to blame me because you finally started to regret your careless mistakes. You have no right to be angry with me for your own choices. Look at how pathetic you’ve become y/n.” He grasps your chin, tilting it to meet your eyes in the mirror.
“I don’t know how I ever managed to love someone stupid enough to waste their soul on nothing more cheap liquor and lust rolled cigarettes.”
The radio static that had permeated the room just seconds before fizzled out leaving you alone in the silent pit. His antlers returned to their normal size as he observed the void that replaced your sparkling eyes. As soon as he saw the tears welling up within you, he realized what he had said.
In actuality, he didn’t mean a word of it. In his time in hell, he had grown too accustomed to uncovering the insecurity of his opponents. In that moment, he had forgotten you really weren’t one.
He didn’t truly blame you for anything that had happened. How could he? He knew he was mostly at fault for the more unfortunate aspects of your life. His heart incessantly throbbed with guilt just thinking of what you must have gone through. He hadn’t known what he left you with in such an unforgiving world. If he had, he would have found some way to pluck the bullet from his skull and return home to you.
As for the quality of your after-life, he knew the blame belonged entirely to Valentino. You had always been strong, but you had never been cruel. To survive in this hellish landscape, you had to be on some level. You probably would have ended up just another lifeless body bloodying up the street if you hadn’t taken the offer. Valentino had taken advantage of that, and Alastor hadn't been there to help you find another solution. Even if you didn’t want his help, he would never forgive himself if he didn’t find a way to break the deal you had made.
“Get out.” You didn’t have enough strength for anything more than a whisper.
His eyes bore into yours as a single tear slipped down your face. He hadn’t noticed the deep scratches that decorated your cheeks or the dark purple bruises that formed under your contour until that moment. They had been hastily covered in concealer and he hadn’t been close enough to notice the jagged indentations until then. The ears perched atop his head began to twitch as his mind sparked with an entirely different form of rage...As soon as he figured out what twisted soul had dared to lay a hand on you, all of hell would hear their screams.
His grasp on your chin softens as he traced the edge of each scratch with his free hand.
“Who did this to you”
“Get out.” You tear your face from his hold.
“No I’m not leaving you here” he stated, the desperation of his tone rimmed the edges his lanky frame. He took a step towards you and you took a step away.
“Get the fuck out Alastor. Now.” Your eyes began to glow a familiar pink.
“Y/n, I didn’t mean t-“
“Just go” you cut him off before he has the chance to put a word in edgewise. You had been through enough. You didn’t need his excuses to confuse you more. Your eyes squeeze shut as the objects in the room began to float. All you wanted was for him to go away.
“I won’t leave you again” He stood his ground.
“Leave me alone” You were practically screaming at this point. If he couldn’t listen to your request, you would just have to be louder to make him listen. Your voice reverberates throughout the room, effectively shattering both the light bulbs surrounding your mirror and the mirror itself. The residual glass scattered through the space and into your hair.
To your surprise, he doesn't respond. The remaining floating objects fall to the ground in a piercing clatter. Your eyes shoot open at the sudden noise.
Other than the abundant mess, there was no trace he had ever been there to begin with. Even the roses he had brought for you had dissipated. You stood alone in the glass covered room, thankful he had taken his leave. The swirling overload of emotion made you feel ill. You replayed the conversation a few times in your head, each replay inspired a deeper feeling of regret and a plethora of questions you no longer had the opportunity to ask.
A/N:
Hey yall thank you sm for the support I adore each and every one of you!!
Also a note about the content revolving around abusive relationships: This is going to be a bit long winded but I feel it's important to be said. The content in this chapter as well as chapter 2 features some pretty awful depictions of abuse. I want to check in and make sure that this isn't coming off as an overly done cliche or a cheap plot device to further the story. In no way is that my intention. I know that I am a very small writing page but it's important to me that I dont accidentally wind down the same path a lot of larger entertainment companies follow. I've drawn from the experiences of my friends who have gone through similar things as well as my own to try and prevent that. However I am also aware my writing style is a bit..dramatic? If you find that it is coming across negatively, and if you feel comfortable, don't hesitate to message me normally or anonymously. I will gladly listen to anything you have to say!!
#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor x reader#valentino being a nasty fucker#Alastor really just can't communicate well and you are lowkey stupid#like ok ms girl jump to conclusions#tbh if i was her id give him a lap dance and forget everything#why am i like this#valentino#...can die#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#you best believe the shitty song fic titles are coming back next chapter#omg theyre back!#i was high off my ass writingn this so no guarantee its good.
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More than some stress relief
Blade x Stelle NSFW 18+ MDNI
CW: Stelle asks Blade to spar with her, and unfortunately that results in some unresolved sexual frustration, because c’mon, he’s still a whole ass man. Luckily, mama Kafka steps in to lend a helping hand. (Not her literal hand, she just buys the toy lol) phone sex, mutual masturbation? The fleshlight blade uses is connected to Stelle through the (magical) necklace that was part of the set. (Magical) creampie.
WARNING: Blade is very violent in his descriptions of how he threatens to bone Stelle. If you’re uncomfortable with him saying things along the lines of: —until the carnage is unrecognizable, —until you’re nothing but hot pulp running through my fingers (just to paraphrase loool) please do not read this. Blade is a very broken man, I was really trying to play off his more violent tendencies with this one. Stelle is so fuckin down bad tho (relatable)
If you are 18+, comfortable with some gory descriptors, and willing to read, please continue! Enjoy.
——————————
🐺👾: you want to…. Spar with blade? Are you a masochist or something? Should I be concerned?
🦝🗑️: shut up
🦝🗑️: I have this crazy lance and I don’t really want to hurt anyone by practicing with it
🦝🗑️: I know he’s got that healing thing going on
🐺👾: 👀 ….
🐺👾: I’m telling him you called it that
🦝🗑️: DONT U DARE
🦝🗑️: JUST PLEASE ASK THE MAN IF HE CAN SPAR WITH ME WITHOUT KILLING ME
🦝🗑️: AND DON'T TELL HIM IT'S ONLY BECAUSE HES WEIRDLY INDESTRUCTIBLE
🦝🗑️: I don’t wanna like, offend him or anything. Obvi I don’t want him to get hurt, but like, the off chance I slip up with this thing… he isn’t gonna get murked. You know?
🐺👾: okay okay I get it, I’ll ask
🦝🗑️: 😩🩶🩶💯🔥
🐺👾: he agreed. Here’s the coordinates. Have fun, don’t die.
————
“Thank you for agreeing to this, I really appreciate it!”
The man in front of Stelle says nothing, only stares as the winds coming off the water pick up loose strands of his hair, making the inky strands flow behind him.
“You… remember me, right?” Stelle tentatively asks.
Still nothing.
“It’s okay if you don’t, we don’t even have to go through with this, I just thought you would be the best person for what I’m—“
“I remember you, Trailblazer. My mind is not so far eroded that I’d forget you so easily.”
His voice is dark, just as raspy as she remembers it. She has to clench her teeth to suppress a shudder. If March could hear her thoughts, she’d blush and squeal, smacking her arm in scandal. If Dan Heng could hear her thoughts… he’d institutionalize her immediately.
This man is dangerous. Incredibly dangerous. Stelle had to lie about where she was going just so no one would try to talk her out of it.
Danger always pulled at something inside her though, that nasty, deranged thing inside her that craved violence and adrenaline. She figured it was a side effect of hosting a stellaron inside her body, but man— did this guy make her wish she could have something else inside her body too.
*Wink wink*
Aeons. She’s such a fucking simp. If it wouldn’t make her look bat shit insane, she’d smack herself right now just to get her shit together.
“Oh…” she said instead. “That’s good. I’m glad.”
An awkward pause lingered between them, and she found herself thinking that maybe she was standing a bit too close to him, despite there being at least two feet between them.
“Are you… doing well? The last time I saw you, Kafka was… helping you feel better.” She said hesitantly.
It could’ve been her imagination, but she swore that the furrow of his brow softened ever so slightly.
“We’re not here to discuss such trivial matters.” His voice was harsh nonetheless.
“Right, right.” Stelle said, scratching the back of her neck sheepishly. “So, how do we do this?”
Blade summoned his sword, dragging his fingertips across the edge before spreading the tainted blood across the flat of it, causing the cracked blade to glow and radiate with unnatural power.
“It is not your time or place to die here, so luckily for you, I will show restraint.”
—————
Stelle could tell Blade was holding back, true to his word.
Any flames she created were either quelled by his winds, or overfanned by his elemental power to the point that they grew too dangerous for the environment around them, or even Stelle herself.
She found that with her control over the lance, she could call forth and dissipate her fires at will, so the damage to herself was minimal.
She worried that if the flames grew too large, she’d lose control over them— but every time, she willed them away and they would flicker out, leaving charred shrubbery and stone in their wake.
Didn’t mean they weren’t hot as shit though.
The first time she’d used the lance, the freezing temperatures of Jarilo XI dulled just how hot her new weapon could become.
But now, well she couldn’t tell if her sweat was from the flames or just how hard her opponent was pushing her.
He was toying with her, clashing together brutally before jumping away and circling her like a hawk.
He was resistant to her taunts, though keeping up with him left little room for her to pause long enough to think of something to say.
He seemed completely at ease though, the violence in his eyes and the murderous grin doing nothing to help the degenerate part of her brain that was screaming and crying and throwing up at the opportunity to observe him like this up close, without Dan Heng around to make her feel guilty for admiring this man so much.
Her arms grew heavy, and she’d not even made him sweat, let alone injure him in any way.
She knew that the lack of true danger was causing her to remain at a reasonable power level, flash backs to the Herta space station incident making her shudder.
She was really no match for him in this kind of situation.
He lunged for her again, and this time, she was too tired to react properly. She parried his strike, but missed the signs of his next move, getting her feet swiped out from beneath her as he tackled her to the ground. His sword stabbed into the dirt just beside her head as he landed on top of her, effectively straddling her as he pinned her with his intense gaze.
Her eyes flitted back and forth between his as her breath heaved in her chest, her heart racing as she struggled to right herself after being disoriented so badly.
Something in his expression shifted, and instead of murderous amusement, his gaze seemed… hungry.
He leaned closer, ever so slowly, and continued staring at Stelle so intently it made her do something so embarrassing she knew she would never live it down.
She whimpered.
His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he was gone.
He pulled away from her and disappeared within the same breath, leaving her lying there in the dirt as she caught her breath.
She ran her hands over her face. “Well fuck.”
—————
🐺👾: what did you do to him?
🦝🗑️: ???????
🐺👾: last week. When the two of you sparred, did something happen?
🦝🗑️: ….
🦝🗑️: why
🐺👾: ever since he got back he’s been fucking pouting.
🐺👾: well, I mean pouting in the way that blade does. It’s more of a scowl than anything else, but I’ve known him long enough to differentiate between his various types of frowns.
🦝🗑️: … nothing happened. We fought. I lost, obviously. But no one was hurt or anything. 🙃 everything’s totally normal
🐺👾 added Kafka🕷️💕 to the chat
🐺👾: Kafka, what’s she hiding?
Kafka🕷️💕: some sexual tension, most likely.
🦝🗑️: …. -_-
🦝🗑️: mother, why hast thou forsaken me????
Kafka🕷️💕: nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetie.
Kafka🕷️💕: Bladie may be a tragic creation of the abundance, but his body was once human. It wouldn’t be a far stretch to say that some of the more… human tendencies of a man may still linger within him.
🐺👾: F
🦝🗑️: F
🐺👾: so you’re saying he’s pouting and kicking shit because he’s sexually frustrated? That’s fuckin nasty.
🐺👾: @🦝🗑️ you need to fix this. I don’t wanna look at him sulk anymore
🦝🗑️: me?!!?!? Tf am I supposed to do??? How is this my fault???
🐺👾: you fought him and now he’s horny. Fix it.
🦝🗑️: … bruh
Kafka🕷️💕: I don’t think the traditional way of solving this problem will be the best idea, silver wolf. 🤭
🐺👾: wym? 🤨
Kafka🕷️💕: I don’t think it’s safe right now for our little trailblazer and Bladie to get together on a more intimate level… he’s still a bit unstable mentally.
🦝🗑️: you let me fight this man while hES UNSTABLE
🐺👾: heh. L
Kafka🕷️💕: fighting is what he knows. It’s what comes natural to him these days. Emotions? Not so much.
🦝🗑️: I mean… I’m always down to help anyone whenever I can
🐺👾: *tucks hair behind ear* “i’M aLwAys DoWn tO HeLP aNyONe WHeNeVEr I cAn”
🦝🗑️: BRO FIGHT ME
🐺👾: no thanks, I have better ways to waste my time
🦝🗑️: ENGAGE ME IN A BATTLE OF FISTICUFFS RN
🦝🗑️: IM ALWAYS DOWN TO HELP BUT USUALLY I GET NICE REWARDS TOO
🐺👾: heh… you want a nice reward for this one too?
🦝🗑️: I STTA ILL COME FIND UR LITTLE HOLOGRAM AND SMACK THE SHIT OUTTA YOU
🐺👾: wtf does stta stand for you heathen
Kafka🕷️💕: ooh! She’s used this one with me before. It’s “swear to the aeons.” Cute, right?
🐺👾: 🙄
🐺👾 has left the chat
Kafka🕷️💕: I think I have an idea on how you can help, if you’re open to it.
🦝🗑️: …
🦝🗑️: what do I need to do?
———
“Stelle sweetie!” Himeko knocked on her cabin door. “You have a package here.”
Stelle nearly slipped as her sock feet slid along the smooth floor of her room in her haste to reach the door.
She tumbled along gracelessly and threw open her door, huffing as she took the package from Himeko.
A box, about five hands wide and three hands deep, wrapped in plain brown paper, with a little card tapped on and slathered with all the necessary postage.
“Thank you!” Stelle said hastily, reaching for her door.
“Wait—“ Himeko put a hand to the door shaft, stepping forward a bit with worry in her eyes.
Stelle cringed a bit, looking up at Himeko and trying to hide the shame she felt creeping up the back of her neck.
“Listen,” Himeko started, eyeing the little card on the package with Stelles name written in pretty, looping letters. “I know you and that stellaron hunter have some strange connection that we aren’t sure about, and I know you’re unsure too, but I just want you to be careful, okay?”
It took a solid two panicked seconds for Stelle to realize that Himeko was speaking about Kafka, and not the other stellaron hunter she’d so guilty formed a connection with recently.
When the realization dawned on her, she tucked her package to the side and pulled Himeko into a tender side hug, snuggling into her chest a bit as she usually did.
“Thank you for worrying about me, Himeko.” Stelle said, pulling away. “It means a lot to me, and I promise I’m being careful. I won’t do anything to jeopardize the safety of anyone on the express.”
Himeko sighed, smiling as she pulled back too. “I know, I just worry about you. We’re all here to support you through this, you know that.”
Stelle grinned. “I do, thank you.”
The red haired woman nodded, smiling still as she said her goodbyes and left Stelle to her own devices.
She’d never closed and locked her door so quickly before.
Throwing the package on her bed, she hastily sat beside it and pulled the card from the packaging.
She took a moment to trace her fingers over the pretty script on the card, before she tore open the envelope and read its contents.
Stelle,
Inside this box you’ll find the fun toy I told you about, along with a new shipping label to send it off to Bladie.
I’m off on my own right now, far away from him, and I figured he’d handle it a lot better if it came from you, and not me. hehe~
Also, you’ll find a beautiful little necklace I had added to the set, that’s for you to wear. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time with it.
Thinking fondly of you always,
K
Stelle blushed a little, Kafka was always saying the strangest things. She tucked the card away in her nightstand and gently pried open the package, not wanting to tear the postage stamps.
Inside was indeed the… thing that she was told about, and she blushed furiously while looking at the nondescript white box, though the size and shape was very indicative of what was inside.
She pulled the new shipping label out, looking at the address inquisitively and realizing she had no idea where Blade even was, not recognizing the planet.
She sat it aside and pulled out the other small box inside, opening it up and finding a rather beautiful blue choker necklace. The colour was reminiscent of her garter, and she smiled, happily pulling the gift from its box and wrapping it around her slender throat.
It clicked nicely in the back, and fit perfectly. She smiled, patting it and thinking about how it was such a thoughtful gift, however strangely unrelated. Then again Kafka was a bit of an enigma regardless, so who knows what her thought process was when putting these two together.
Stelle closed up the box, slapping the new shipping label over the old one and eyeing it as it sat in the middle of her bed.
Fuck, I should probably write him a letter, some kind of explination so he doesn’t just throw it away without opening it.
She scurried to her desk, pulling out a very cutesy animal themed stationary set that March had gifted her after their mission on Jarilo XI.
The envelopes and cards were soft blue, covered in cute little bunnies and bears and what Stelle thinks are pink raccoons, surrounded with hearts and little stars.
She laughed at the idea of Blade handling such delicate paper, and got to writing a quick note on her desk.
Hey,
Don’t hate me, but SW was complaining about your… mood lately, and I thought this might help. I totally fuckin get it, trust me, I understand. Traveling with a group of people that’s more like family than anything else can really put a damper on your… personal time. So please take time for yourself, if not for me, then to at least make silver wolf stop complaining to me that you’re moody.
I look forward to the day you’ll spar with me again.
-Stelle
It might’ve been doing a bit too much, but Stelle couldn’t help but feel like the note might help him to be more receptive to the gift.
Being a bit delusional never stopped her before, so why should it now?
She slid the card in the envelope and slapped it to the package, picking it up to go and have it delivered. Hopefully she could feel a bit more at peace once it was gone.
—————
A quick and impatient knock sounded on his room door, pulling him from his deep meditation on the floor.
“Hey asshole, you’ve got a package.”
He and Silver Wolf were sent together to fulfill one of Elio’s scripts, and it was a brief period of lull in their respective duties.
The inn they were staying at wasn’t lavish by any means, but they were discreet, and that’s really all they could hope for.
Blade released a breath through his nose as he rose from the floor, walking over and opening up his room to find his fellow hunter standing impatiently, tapping her foot on the rough carpet of the hallway.
Blade hated carpet in the hallways of inns. Always disgusting and ridiculously coloured.
“Here.” Silver Wolf shoved the box in his hands, her grin was wide, spreading to her eyes which twinkled up at him with the mischief he tried so desperately to avoid.
“Who could possibly know where we are right now.” He grumbled at her, though she was already turning to leave.
“I have an inkling, and hopefully the stick falls out of your ass soon.” She laughed maniacally as she waltzed down the hall. “Enjoy!”
Blade felt his brow scrunch up tight as he eyed the package. The blue envelope tapped into it was terrible to look at, the childish print making him want to throw it away immediately, but the unfamiliar lettering spelling his name across the paper made him pause.
He brought the package to his bed, sitting down and thumbing open the envelope.
The contents of the card made his stomach drop and then lurch into his throat. He was ready to run silver wolf through with his sword.
Calm yourself.
He took steady breaths, though he was angry, he was also rather curious about what exactly was in the box.
With a carefulness he didn’t remember he had, he pried open the package to find a smaller white box without any words or indicators of what could be inside.
He lifted the lid, only to drop it in shock at what lurked within. He knew what that was. He was older than most but he was still a man, and he knew exactly what had been sent to him— what was to help his “mood.”
He sighed, pinching his temples. He didn’t know whether he wanted to thank silver wolf or strangle her. Either way, he’d be getting some kind of relief today.
———————
Stelle was eating dinner when she felt the first phantom touch.
Fingertips, as soft as a whisper, ghosting over her pubic mound and making her stomach dip.
Her eyes darted around, but everyone else was still enjoying their meal, chatting quietly together with the melody of silverware accompanying their voices.
She was sat beside Dan Heng tonight, but both of his hands were above the table.
She leaned back to look at him below the waist, looking to see if he’d manifested his tail and was making a pass at her, or more likely, was absentmindedly flicking it about like he did whenever he took his secondary form.
But no, he was tailless this evening, and now eyeing her a bit warily as her eyes darted around.
“You okay?” He murmured, not wanting to bother the others.
The touch ghosted along her outer labia now, making her drop her fork in shock.
Everyone was looking at her now, and she felt something pulse around her throat, right where her new necklace rested.
Her face heated, and she placed her utensils onto her half finished plate before scooting from behind the table.
“I’m… not feeling the greatest. I think I’m gonna go to bed early, if you all don’t mind.”
She stood quickly, standing there for a moment as the touches continued, soft and inquisitive.
“Are you alright?” Welt asked, concerned. “Would you like me to bring you some tea, or medicine?”
“No!” Stelle jumped, before she caught herself and smiled sheepishly. “I’m alright, just feeling a little off. Probably just need some good sleep. I’ll see you all in the morning?”
They all nodded, watching her go with worried eyes, but letting her leave without more questioning, which she was so grateful for.
As soon as she made it to her room, she felt the first touch swipe through her core, and she nearly keened.
Her throat pulsed, the necklace weakly glowing in the dark of her room.
Her body felt hot. She was embarrassed at the amount of wetness that was pooling in her underwear, but most importantly, she was so fucking confused at what was going on.
Something wet and blunt prodded at her entrance, and her knees buckled as she locked her door.
She nearly crawled to her bed as her choker pulsed and pulsed with a weak glow, and the blunt thing, which felt suspiciously like a pair of fingers, finally slipped inside her, curiously prodding around, as if feeling her out.
She slapped a hand over her mouth as she squeezed around the phantom digits, their touch lingering at her g spot with ridiculous precision. The fingers withdrew and she breathed a sigh of relief, though it was short lived as something much, much larger prodded itself at her entrance.
Her eyes widened, and she scrambled to pull Kafkas card from her bedside drawer.
“you’ll find a beautiful little necklace I had added to the set, that’s for you to wear. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time with it. “
Stelle hadn’t realized what those words meant at the time, but as the blunt head of a ridiculously sized phallic object pushed at her hole, the meaning slapped her in the face like a rouge automaton.
Her back arched off the bed as the phantom cock pushed into her, and she choked on a moan as it buried itself deep within her. She was so ridiculously wet she wanted to cry, and knowing who was on the other end of this feeling made her eyes roll back into her head.
The thrusts started slow, but slowly worked their way up to something more intense, almost violent. Her insides churned, and she felt the telltale signs of an orgasm building up so quickly she might scream.
No, no no no. She scrambled, reaching for the necklace, but when her fingers reached the latch, the thrusts changed angles, pounding directly into her g-spot and she cussed into the dark of her room.
Her orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave, crashing into her and seeping deep into her bones. It was the first actually satisfying orgasm she’d had in an incredibly long time.
Her fingertips shook as they lingered on the necklace a moment, before she threw them back to her sheets, gripping them tightly as the thrusts continued.
Fuck, this feels too good.
Through the post orgasm fog, she wondered if he knew.
Did he know it was connected to her?
She suddenly felt overcome with guilt. If he didn’t know, this felt a little like taking advantage of his struggles. If he did know, then she wanted to hear him say it out loud, that he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
She wanted him to hear exactly what he was doing to her.
With shaking hands and twitching thighs, she slapped around her bed for her phone, biting her lip through the pleasure to scroll through her contacts.
It was nearly at the bottom, and the last time it was used was a hack of Silver Wolf’s, and Kafkas words, not his own. But she had to try regardless.
She clicked the call button, bringing her phone to her ear as she bit back moans.
Suddenly, the thrusting within her stopped, though the phantom cock remained buried within her.
She gasped as the ringing came to a halt as the line picked up.
There was no answer, though she swore she could hear his breathing, just a bit heavier than usual.
“Don’t… don’t stop.” She whispered.
She thought she heard his breath catch in his throat. She definitely heard the swallow before he spoke.
“What are you talking about.” His gravelly voice reverberated through the phone, and she felt the cock inside her move ever so slowly, in and out.
She bit her lip. “I didn’t know at first, I swear.” Her thoughts were scrambled as the soft thrusts continued, and the knowledge that he was actively fucking himself with the toy while she spoke make her stomach jump in pleasure.
“You didn’t know what?” He said, voice low and nearly at a whisper.
“It’s… we’re… we’re connected.”
The toy stopped, and she sucked in a breath of relief, hoping to gather her thoughts so she could properly explain herself.
Suddenly a moan was ripped from her chest as his cock thrust into the toy with vigor, and his intense pace was picked back up tenfold.
She tried to hide it, but the damage was done, and if he didn’t know before, he certainly did now as he listened to her whine and whimper through the phone.
“I thought the inside felt far too realistic.” He growled. “You’re squeezing me so tight, little Nameless.”
She gasped, his voice along with the stimulation was far too much, and another orgasm was quickly approaching.
She tried to play it off like she wasn’t being fucked within an inch of her life though.
“Yeah well, it’s… been a while since I’ve gotten any action, s-so forgive me for being a little tense.” She stammered.
He switched his thrusts to hard and deep, so hard Stelle could nearly feel the sensation of his hips hitting hers, and she’s almost positive the fat of her lower half would be rippling in the recoil if he were actually here.
“I knew as soon as I saw you that you were just a needy hole begging to be filled.” Blade said, voice deep and oh so condescending.
Stelle fisted the sheets, her eyes nearly rolling into her skull as her needy moans slipped through clenched teeth. He was right, he was so right— but that didn’t mean she needed to concede so easily.
“That’s bold talk…” she hissed, biting her lips until they felt raw. “…For someone who literally ran away from m-me as soon as his blood traveled south.”
His dark laugh made her squeeze around him, and she knew he could feel it because the laugh trickled off into a deep groan that set her face on fire. She felt like her fingertips were alight with electricity, like her body was attempting to defy the artificial gravity on the express as she arched off her sheets.
The pounding within her never faltered as he continued speaking his vile, filthy words at her.
“You’re lucky I did, little Nameless.” She could almost imagine his murderous grin, the violence that vibrated through his voice was astounding. “If I had stayed I would have fucked you until not even your beloved crew would have been able to recognize the carnage I’d left behind.”
She couldn’t stop the noise that flew from her throat, a guttural keening that had her gripping her cellphone in embarrassment as he laughed once more.
“Oh?” He teased, voice edged with gravel and venom. “You must be desperate to enjoy the idea of me fucking you until you’re nothing but hot pulp slipping through my fucking fingers.”
Oh she was so desperate, so fucked. If anyone else had said something so absolutely horrifying, she’d have run far, far away.
“Does the rest of the express crew know how fucking depraved you are?” His thrusts seemed to pick up speed, which would’ve seemed nearly impossible, except she couldn’t exactly think at the moment, only sob as they slammed against that spot inside her over and over again until she felt herself slipping slowly.
“Do they know that their precious little star wants to be fucked by a monster?” He snarled, and she cried out into the soft light of her room, thrashing around as her orgasm teased its way at her— but she was holding it back, why, why?
“Please,” she gasped. “Please, can I—“ oh, she thought distantly. Oh I’m so fucked up.
Blade groaned, the slick sounds of him thrusting into the toy ringing in her ear. “So desperate, so polite. You really are something else.”
She keened, arching her back as the feeling licked at her further, so close to toppling over the edge.
“Go on then,” Blade whispered darkly. “Cum for me.”
It crashed over her, more powerful than anything she could remember feeling. It pulsed through her in quick waves, so strong and violent as he just kept going.
It started to dance into sickly sweet overstimulation as she heard his breath quicken, and she steadied her breath, wanting to savor this moment.
“You know,” she breathed. “I’m a lot tougher than you think.”
His breath stuttered, his pace faltering ever so slightly.
“I could take it,” she whispered. “I don’t think you’d hurt me in any way I didn’t want you to.”
He faltered, and she heard him cuss under his breath through the phone.
“Yeah?” He whispered. “You’d take what I give you?”
She nodded at her ceiling, knowing he couldn’t see her, but her mind was too foggy with brutal pleasure to think straight. He was undoing her.
“Every disgusting, violent, nasty thing you’d give me Blade,” she said, clutching the sheets as tears welled behind her eyes, praying he was almost finished but simultaneously never wanting it to end. “I’d take it so well for you, and I’d thank you for it.”
“Fuck.” Blade moaned, deep and guttural, and his thrusting seized inside her. Much to her shock, she could feel the warmth of him filling her up, pump and after pump of him coating her insides.
They both lay there, staring at their ceilings and breathing heavily over the phone, not speaking but not really wanting to anyways.
Finally, once the breath returned to her lungs unlaboured, she felt him pull himself from the toy.
She felt like she’d been hollowed out, like a crater had been formed where her insides should be, and without him there plugging her up—-her guts would fall out and she’d be left empty.
He made a confused noise, and just as he did she felt the telltale squelch of cum slipping from her still twitching insides, and she groaned in frustration.
“Well then,” he chuckled, softer now than before— almost a forbidden sound. “That makes cleaning up easier for me.”
She smacked her hand over her face. “This is the weirdest toy ever invented, and I'm going to cry the next time I have to face Kafka.”
“I figured this had something to do with her,” he said, shuffling noises heard from his end of the line. “She can never stay out of my business for too terribly long, unfortunately.”
“Mine too it seems.” Stelle sighed. She smiled when he made a neutral sound of agreement.
“You sound like you’re in a better mood.” She said, uncaring of the consequences.
“Well, before I realized what this really was, I was just hoping to release some inconvenient pent up energy.” He said, voice flat. “But I suppose doing it this way has added benefits. I’m no fool, I understand how the human brain works.”
“So this… helped you?” Stelle asked tentatively.
He sighed. “I’d be lying if I said it was entirely useless.”
Stelle smiled, stroking the choker around her throat, the delicate glow now completely faded.
“I’ll keep my end of the connection on, it's simple enough. Just call me next time, okay? I don’t need to embarrass myself at dinner again.”
“I make no such promises.” She thought she heard the faintest of smiles in that last sentence before the line went dead.
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail smut#stelle#blade smut#hsr blade smut#hsr smut#hsr blade#hsr stelle#stelle x blade#blade x stelle#blade x stelle smut#stelle smut#tw: violent descriptions
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Pretty
pairing: loki x fem!reader
genre: smut and fluff (smuff)
summary: loki came back from asgard and caught you looking at yourself in the mirror, admiring the way your new dress looked on you
warnings: smut (18+), oral (f receiving), praising, unprotected piv (wrap before you tap!!), squirting, cutie lil loki☹️
word count: 1.2k
A/N: if you wanna see the dress click here!!
You stood in front of the gold embellished mirror as you admired the olive green dress that you just bought with Natasha and Wanda today. The dress reached just above your knees and wrapped around your middle before puffing out slightly at the top to accompany the puffy long sleeves that cinched at your wrists. The neck of your dress was in a low square shape that showed off your collarbones well. You wore a golden locket with a picture of you and your lover, Loki, inside. The pendant sat in between your clavicles, pulling off the dress. You also had a simple pair of small hoops earrings you also got today while you girls went out.
You spread the skirt apart and turned to your side to admire the way the fabric accentuated your ass and made your breasts appear slightly bigger. You adored the way your calves flexed when you put one foot in a tiptoe position and dropped the skirt of the dress down, allowing it to breeze along your thighs once more. You twirled around and fancy the way the fabrics of the dress fly in the created wind you made from your twirl.
“I am looking good,” You say to yourself, giggling at the sight before you. You twirl around again and turn around away from the mirror before just turning your head back as much as possible to glance at your back, you move your hair over your shoulder to get a better view. For the first time in a while, you felt ethereal.
“There’s my pretty girl,” You heard a voice speak from the door across your room. Your head whipped around quickly, to see your boyfriend smiling back at you.
“Loki!” You chirped, running up to him and wrapping your arms over his shoulders and pulling him down for a kiss. You felt his hands smooth down your sides and land on your waist. He smiled into the kiss before pulling back.
“I missed you, my sweet girl,” Loki smiled before gripping on your waist a little harder and pulling you towards him, pressing your chest against his as he bends down and captures your lips once again. You squeak at the sudden action but quickly fall silent as your lips connect with his, “my little mouse,” Loki whispered into the kiss. You reach your hand into his hair, scratching his scalp slightly as he deepens the kiss. His hands travel from your waist to under your thighs. You jump up and wrap your legs around his slutty waist.
He gently places you down on the bed, before stepping back and admiring the view before him. He saw you admiring yourself in the mirror, but instead of interrupting you at first, he watched, amused at the scene before him.
“You’re so pretty, my darling girl,” Loki praised, unbuttoning his emerald green dress shirt before crawling on top of you. You giggled and whispered a quiet thank you.
“So are you. You’re really pretty,” you smile, cupping his cheeks and giving him a peck on the lips before moving to his jaw, down his neck, on his clavicles, and on his chest. You peppered kisses anywhere you could reach. Your nails softly ran up and down his chiseled back as you continued your affection. Loki’s chest vibrated as he let out a content hum.
“I appreciate your compliment, darling, but I was hoping I could show you just how pretty I think you are,” Loki mumbled. You didn’t miss his hands sliding up your thighs and under your dress. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the smile you so desperately wanted to bare.
“Already, my prince? You’re insatiable,” you teased, brushing a piece of his inky, black hair behind his ear.
“Only for you, my love,” Loki quipped, pushing the skirt of your dress up more, and began lowering himself down, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. Once he reached your panties he stopped, “may I?” Loki asked. You nodded and lifted your hips up so he could slide your lace panties down your legs.
“So beautiful,” Loki whispered to himself before diving in. He licked a fat line up your cunt, causing you to moan out and arch your back. Loki threw your legs over his shoulders just to get deeper.
He circled his tongue around your clit as he moved one of his hands to your soaking folds. He pushed two fingers in, starting a steady pace as he continued his oral attack on your clit.
“Fuck! Loki! Yes, yes, yes!” You moaned out, gripping onto his hair for dear life as you felt your orgasm approaching fairly quickly. Loki hummed against you as he continued to eat you like a man starved.
“Soak me, min kjære,” Loki mumbled against you, curling his fingers just right causing you to scream out, your release spraying out of out. Your eyes screwed shut and your back arched as your orgasm quite literally soaked your lover right below you as he just stared at you in awe.
Once your orgasm came to an end your body went limp momentarily. You lifted your head to see Loki’s mouth and chin, chest, and the bedsheets below you absolutely soaked.
“I— I’m sorry,” You stuttered, embarrassed at the mess you made.
“Don’t be. I enjoyed it and clearly you enjoyed it too. Now, shall we continue?” Loki smirked, crawling back up your body and magicking away his pants and underwear to reveal his erection that was now firmly placed against the inside of your thigh.
“Please,” you asked simply, tracing all of the ripples and muscles that covered the expanse of his torso. Loki smiled at the sweet yet erotic gesture and gently pressed a kiss to your forehead before slowly sliding himself into you.
“Oh gods… you feel so— ahh… good,” Loki groaned as he slowly began to pump himself in and out of you, “so… tight,” he continued, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
“Loki… please…” you moaned out, begging for something you don’t even know what for. Loki raised himself up from the crook of your neck and looked at you with pure lust and adoration, “you’re so pretty,” you smiled, gripping onto his triceps.
Loki didn’t know why, but hearing you say that made him keen. You had called him pretty so many times, why did this feel different? It was… arousing… it made him want to claim you.
“Say that again,” Loki demanded sweetly, hardening his thrusts slightly.
“You’re so so so pretty, my pretty boy,” You moaned out as he pressed that one spot deep inside you, “Fuck! Right there! Yes!” You screamed out, “Keep going, my pretty boy, please!” You exclaimed, raking your nails down his back, wrapping your legs around his waist to deepen his thrusts.
“Cum with me, my love, please…” Loki pleaded, placing a sweet kiss on your lips as the two of you went over the edge. Loki stilled inside of you for a moment as he spilled his seed deep inside your walls, before he continued to help you ride out your high.
Once the waves passed, Loki collapsed on top of you, trying to avoid putting too much weight on you. You played with his hair contently and slightly pouted when you felt him slip out of your used hole.
“I love you, my pretty girl,”
“I love you more, my pretty boy,”
**
translation(s):
min kjære - my beloved
A/N: i wrote this like hella late at night and i got this idea randomly so ignore any mistakes or bad writing bc i don’t care enough to go back and fix it.
#loki#loki fanfic#loki fluff#loki laufeyson#loki marvel#loki x reader#loki x y/n#loki x you#loki smut#mcu loki#loki odinson#loki of asgard#loki god of mischief#loki series
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Alright more Demon!Darlings Au because I was thinking about it at the airport and typed this out while I was at the bar. Waiting. For 5 hours... Ghost’s demon’s name, a little bit of their magic, and a lot of me just vibing.
"Die, you there?" Ghost asks aloud, pressing his finger to his mic out of habit.
"Always," your voice hums by his ear, as clear as if you were next to him, you might be, he hasn't really figured out how this works, "what do you need?"
"Need a count on hostiles in the area."
"Parameters?"
"Hundred meter radius," he presses his back to the wall and waits, he's getting used to this. The loss of pressure on his chest when you leave, the warmth of your return.
"Four count 25 meters ahead, another six 50 meters to your right and zero behind," you pause, "nice work on that by the way."
"Thanks," Ghost checks his mag, crouches to grab the spare you offer from his shadow.
"Want me to drop 'em?"
"Negative."
"You never let me have any fun," he can hear you pouting, "what's the point of having a demon if you never let them do anything demonic?"
"Didn't ask you to tag along, you can shove off back to hell any time." Ghost nods, satisfied with his weapons check and lifts his gun to the ready, pushing off the wall to continue his sweep. You're more than happy to keep your thoughts on that little remark to yourself. Plenty of soldiers would love to have a demon, just because he's perpetually woken up on the wrong side of the bed…
"On your left," you whisper, watching Ghost turn and execute the target with brutal efficiency. Aw, you can't stay mad at him. "Stellar work LT, must have a guardian angel."
"Pushing it," he grumps, unloading the life from another two combatants as he moves closer to target.
You get the memo, less talky, more helping him keep his head. You wonder if any other demons have to deal with this or if you just got assigned to a particularly difficult human. Well, you eye his soul, human might be pushing it.
You whisp ahead, stretching out through the shadows to feel out positions and not to kill anyone, a real misuse of your power honestly, before reporting back to Ghost. He touches his mic whenever he talks to you, it's funny. Like you're going to talk over comms and not directly to him. You keep eyes on him, collecting unused ammunition from corpses and handing it up to him from the shadows whenever he reaches for it. It’s easy work if a waste of your talents.
But if this is how he wants to do things, you’re not going to disagree. You can give him shit for it all you want but at the end of the day he’s technically in command. You wonder if other demons have this much trouble with their summoners. You barely managed to tell him your name before he seemed completely uninterested in you. Now you felt like you were just a glorified UAV in his eyes. Hardly a decent prize for a man of his caliber. You’re sure he feels the same way.
Maybe he’s disappointed in you? Maybe he was expecting a different sort of demon, something less specialized? Maybe he wanted a hell hound or one of those idiots from the all brawn no brain division. He’s practically starving you of your purpose.
Your distraction has consequences. A lone man jumping from a shadowing hiding spot to attach Ghost from behind. You feel him as soon as his feet hit the floor, already vibrating on the edge of violent impact. This is what you’re made for.
Ghost is just a moment too slow, the enemy combatant already halfway towards bashing his skull with the butt of their rifle. Thankfully you have no problem with reaction times. Flicking your wrist to direct you magic, and Ghost’s shadow to do the one thing you’re best at. A long needle of inky shadow pierces through their neck straight through the back of their skull. The man chokes and gurgles blood, dropping his gun to claw and grasp at your construct. Ghost has his knife drawn, you imagine it was with the intent to enact a similar violence. He glances down at the blade, your eyes blinking back at him curiously through the reflection on metal.
“What else can you do?” He asks, professional curiosity coloring his tone more than he’d care to admit. You feel your lips curl into a grin. You’d been hoping he’d ask.
#demon!Darling au#oc: Die#in my head she sounds like Maria from bullet train#just a calming voice in Ghost's ear/head giving him directions#Ghost feed your damn demon can't you see she's starving with bloodlust?#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#cod ghost#ghost x reader#x reader#although not much romance here#they're just getting used to each other#Ghost thinks Die is a shitty consulation prize for killing so many people but it's only because he didn't read the instruction manual#Soap also doesn't read the manual but at least he listens when his demon yells at him#Konig surprisingly did read the manual and is very efficient with his demon
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Permanent Surrender
This fic will cover my A Locket-A weapon-An Unexpected Kiss square on my 2nd @jacklesversebingo card.
Summary: Ben and Y/N hate each other...but what lies just over the edge of hate?
Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. Of course - it's Soldier Boy! Misogynistic language, Ben being an asshole. Rough, unprotected PinV sex, vaginal fingering, anal sex, spit and cum as lube, Oral (m receiving) slight face fucking, dub con (let's call it forceful seduction), lots of dirty talk.
Pairings: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader and Soldier Boy x Sarah (sort of)
Word Count: 3,633
A/N: So this is my next square for my second jacklesversebingo card. The request for this one came from @deans-spinster-witch who sent an ask saying simply:
A locket, a weapon, an unexpected kiss with Soldier Boy & the reader?
Rewatching 3x08, I came upon this classic line and it got my dirty mind rolling:
So, this is what I came up with, hon! Hope you (and everyone else too) enjoy it! ❤️ If you do, don't forget to like, comment and/or reblog. It means the world.
The dividers used here are created by @silkholland
The skyline of New York City stretched out in front of Sarah for miles, lights twinkling like fallen stars in the inky black sky. The night had taken its toll on her and she found herself with a bit of a headache. She rubbed a hand over her forehead as images of the night came back to her.
…the terrorists storming into their company's New Year's Eve party…
…the screams of fear from those around her as the Soviet terrorists forced them, at gunpoint, into the small, crowded conference room…
…the feeling of soaring relief and happiness as something smashed through the windows on the eightieth floor of Takao Corporation Headquarters…
…the way her heart beat triple time when she realized it was him - Soldier Boy! He'd come for her, just as she'd known he would…
He'd saved them all and sent those Soviet bastards packing!
And now she stood free and safe, in the chill of a New York December night, with only a light sweater over her shoulders. She shivered and considered going back inside, but then suddenly he was there - walking towards her in his emerald green suit, not even a single tear in it from his gallant rescue.
“Hey, sweetness.” He said as he reached her and ran his hands up and down her arms. “You're gonna catch pneumonia out here. I didn't come all this way to save you just to lose you to a cold.”
He smiled at her warmly and she felt her insides tremble.
“Oh, speaking of lost things…” He reached into a pocket in his sleeve and pulled out a delicate gold chain with a locket dangling from it.
Sarah gasped. “My grandmother's locket!” She exclaimed with wide eyes. “When those bastards ripped it from around my neck, I never thought I'd see it again.”
Soldier Boy shook his head. “I knew I had to get this back to you. I know how much it means to you, being the last thing your grandmother ever gave you. I couldn't let them take it.”
Sarah’s eyes welled up with tears as Soldier Boy held up the locket and nodded towards her.
“May I?” He asked.
She nodded and he stepped close to her, clasping the fine gold chain around her neck.
When he had it in place, he stepped back from her slightly, but remained close. He let his finger trail down the cold metal links resting on her warm skin and when he spoke his voice was deep and warm.
“So…” He seemed a little nervous and Sarah blushed. “I know it's well after midnight, but…do you think I could steal a New Year's Eve kiss?”
She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I thought you'd never ask.”
He smiled into their kiss…
…and the music swelled, the camera slowly panning away into a long crane shot until the screen faded to black and the credits finally began to roll.
The Heart of Rock and Roll by Huey Lewis and the News blasted from the speakers as the theater erupted in applause, everyone cheering the latest exploits of Soldier Boy. Once again he'd shot down all the bad guys (except for a few who's throats he slit), saved all the hostages and, of course, got the girl.
Ben and Y/N came out onto the small stage at the front of the theater and gave everyone a wave. Ben spoke into the microphone someone had placed in front of him.
“Thank you so much for coming to the premiere of ‘Falling Thunder’. We hope you enjoyed it; we sure enjoyed making it.”
Ben smiled down at Y/N and squeezed the hand he held very hard until a smile popped up on her face. She leaned into the microphone.
“Yes, what an adventure this has been. And thanks so much to the best partner I could ask for.” She gushed, latching onto Ben's bicep and then coyly burying her face in the same arm as the audience oohed and aahed and whistled at them.
Ben laughed and chucked her chin, throwing her a wink and making all the women in the audience melt into puddles. The two of them flashed a few more smiles and waved again as they walked offstage. The second they were past the curtain, they dropped their smiles and each other's hands.
Y/N breathed deeply and turned to face the man she loathed more than she ever thought possible.
“Well, I can't say this was fun, but it's done and we never have to see each other again, so there's that.”
Ben turned his head to sneer at her. “Well, I'm still seeing you now.”
Y/N clenched her jaw as she turned and stomped away from the absolute asshole the rest of the world knew as Soldier Boy.
From their first moment on set to their very last take, they'd hated each other. Everything Ben did pissed her off, every snide comment, every lude suggestion made her want to smack him till his ears rang.
She knew he felt the same. He'd told her numerous times, when she’d refused to sleep with him, that she was just a frigid bitch.
“Women like you need to be fucked long and hard so you remember your place.” He'd growled at her after the last time he'd cornered her and tried to fuck her in her trailer. He'd stormed out unsatisfied, slamming her trailer door off its hinges.
That's how it had been the entire six weeks of shooting.
Y/N couldn't deny that the asshole was incredibly hot and she had definitely been tempted by him quite a few times. His face was so goddamn perfect and his lips were so wide and full she just wanted to suck on them like candy.
And his body. Fuck!
Having been pressed up against him many times throughout filming she knew just how rock solid he was, how his muscles felt rippling beneath her hands, and it definitely left her wanting so much more. But she'd never give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right when he whispered dirty accusations in her ear.
“I know you're soaked for me, baby.” He told her one day on set. He leaned in towards her and inhaled deeply. “I can fucking smell it.”
He'd told her over and over that she was denying herself the best sex of her life. She'd scoffed at him and rolled her eyes which never failed to piss him off. But secretly, she thought he might actually be telling the truth.
But now she'd never know.
She sighed deeply as she continued to wait at the coat check for the girl to find her coat in the back and bring it out so she could leave the theater behind, along with the group of Hollywood phonies involved with the movie.
Mostly though, she admitted, she wanted away from temptation.
She was desperate to leave because now that it was becoming real in her mind that her time with Ben was well and truly over, she was beginning to feel a kind of panic setting in - as though overwhelming disappointment was washing over her.
She was coming to realize that actually, a part of her had hoped that he’d win their little war. A deep-down-dark part of her had wanted him to fuck her and emerge victorious. She hated admitting it, even to herself, but she'd never been so turned on by a man in her life. Her body flushed and her core muscles clenched just thinking of him.
She angrily rang the little bell on the desk a few times. She needed to get her coat and get the fuck out of here.
Suddenly the little blonde who worked behind the counter popped out from between two trench coats. Her face was all red and she seemed a bit loopy. She was grinning and giggling. “I can't…I can't find your coat. You should go back and look for yourself.”
She pressed a button under the desk and the door swung open. The girl ran out, leaving Y/N to stare after her in confusion.
“What the fuck?” Y/N mumbled. She scowled and shook her head, slipping through the door before it clicked shut and relocked behind her. She pushed her way through the racks and racks of coats, soon becoming lost in a sea of wool and tweed.
Suddenly she felt a hand grab her wrist and pull her behind the last row of coats. There was a wide spot there between the coats and the back wall. And in that spot Ben slammed her back against the wall, thrusting a knee between her legs and holding both wrists stretched above her head.
He easily held her wrists in one hand, so his other one was free to wrap around her throat as his face hovered above hers.
“Together again, baby.”
Out of habit Y/N pulled away from him, trying to free her wrists, but it was like trying to escape steel manacles.
“Why are you fighting what we both know you want?” He asked smugly. He dropped his hand from her throat and ran it down her body, reaching her stocking-covered thigh and squeezing hard.
“What will I find if I tear these fucking pantyhose off? If I try to make you come on my fingers, are you gonna be dripping for me?”
Y/N felt her panties flood even more at his words, giving an answer to his very rhetorical questions. But she tried to pull her leg out of his grip and struggled against his hold.
“Fuck off, you piece of shit!” She hissed at him. “I thought you were out of my goddamn life!”
Ben trailed his fingers further up her thigh and shook his head. “N’ah, gave that little blonde bimbo a hundred dollar bill and quick finger fuck to get her out of here. So I could have you all to myself at last.”
It occurred to Y/N that she should probably be a lot more afraid than annoyed. There was absolutely nothing stopping this Titan from holding her down and doing anything he wanted to her.
But just like all the times before, she was frustrated, not scared. She knew he didn't want to take her. He wanted to get her. He wanted her to admit how badly she lusted after him. He wanted her to give in.
He wanted to win.
To that end, he pressed his lips behind her ear and made her shiver. His fingers ran just under the hem of her little black dress.
“I know how much you want me.” His voice was low and smooth in her ear. “I know you've probably spent hours and hours fantasizing about me throwing you down and fucking you stupid. Have you imagined that? Hmm?” He asked as he pulled down the thick strap on her dress and trailed his sinful lips across her shoulder.
“How do I fuck you in your fantasies, Y/N? Do I make you come on my tongue first? Or do I just bend you over and ram my fat cock into that dripping mess of a cunt?”
Y/N was still shaking her head, but she was panting now too. She wanted to keep telling him no, but her whole body thrummed a resounding yes.
But it wasn't enough for him, he wanted her total surrender.
“Tell me, Y/N. How do you wanna be fucked? Slow and teasing or hard and pounding? Do you want me to fuck this gorgeous mouth of yours.” He paused to lick her lips open and a moan escaped her.
He smiled wickedly, but didn't relent. “In your dreams are you on your knees, baby? Are you taking my cock down your throat like such a good girl? Are you gagging on it?”
He raised his knee slightly, flexing the muscle and making it push against her core. She sucked in a ragged breath and then cried out harshly as he pulled back and then slammed it against her pussy, the ridge of muscle in his thigh pressing perfectly and making her roll her head back and forth on the wall, trying to deny how desperately she wanted him.
“Do you like that, my little slut? Do you like fucking yourself on my thigh? Yeah, you do, don't you? I know just how badly you want me to fuck you, how badly you wanna be reamed by a big fat cock. Need somebody to fuck you down good, don't you? Need to be fucked so hard you can't walk for a week.”
Y/N wasn't even trying to stop the sounds of pleasure sliding out of throat, she couldn't possibly manage it. But she still pulled uselessly against his grip, still wouldn't give in.
Ben's voice was deliciously dark and deep as he continued. “All you have to do is say the word, Y/N. Well, two words actually. Just say, ‘I surrender.’ and I'll fuck you so good, keep you coming and coming.”
Y/N bucked her hips forward, rubbing against his thigh once again. She opened her mouth to tell him to fuck off, but only pathetic, whimpering sounds came out now so she slammed it shut.
Ben sensed his victory in the air and he smiled darkly. “Just fucking say it, baby. We both know you want it, you're not fooling anyone anymore. So surrender and I'll take you where you stand, fuck you against this wall till your knees buckle. Fill every fucking hole and have you absolutely begging for more.”
It was the breaking point for Y/N. “Oh goddamn it. Yes. Okay. Do it.” She gasped, but it wasn't enough for Ben.
He pulled her away from the wall and spun her to face it. He let go of her wrists so he could collect them again behind her back. He tore the front of her dress down to her waist. She wore no bra and the cold cement wall felt rough against her bare tits when he pressed her against it.
He wrenched her tight dress up to bunch around her waist, shredded her pantyhose with his fingers before yanking her panties down and then freeing his cock from its confines.
He groaned as he slid it up and down through the wetness he’d known he’d find. He pressed the very tip to her entrance and stopped. He applied his weight and strength against her, so she couldn't move a muscle, couldn't push back on him, couldn't create any kind of friction for herself.
“This is it, little tease. You've been denying me for weeks and weeks now. Trying to make me believe you didn't want me. Well now my cock is just waiting to fuck you apart, ready to make you scream. So tell me bitch, do you surrender?”
Y/N felt her last thread of resistance fall away and she simply didn't care about pride anymore.
“Yes, goddammit, yes. I fucking yield, I surrender, whatever you wanna hear. Just fuck me, you asshole!”
With that auspicious capitulation, Ben didn't wait another second. He rammed himself deep, and then deeper into Y/N's cunt. He didn't wait for her first cry of pleasure to end before he pulled out and slammed back again, this time lifting her off the floor with the force of his thrust.
He smashed her up against the wall, holding her wrists tightly behind her and crushing her body against the cement as he fucked up into her over and over.
The tip of his huge cock dragged across her sweet spot with every punishing thrust. He was relentless and perfect and Y/N could only pant and beg him not to stop. Soon she was falling over the edge harder than she'd ever fallen. He buried his fingers in her slick and rubbed her clit hard as he kept ramming himself into her so deep that Y/N knew no one would ever fill her the same way again.
As he'd promised, he kept her coming and coming.
After one particularly powerful climax, Y/N felt as though her brain had liquefied, and was only vaguely aware of what was happening as Ben pulled out of her and shifted her away from the wall. He bent her double and dropped her wrists.
He spread her ass cheeks wide and spit on her before dragging slick up from her cunt on his fingers and coating the tight ring of muscle there. He pushed the tip of his middle finger in and groaned.
“Fuck this ass is tight. Have you ever been ass fucked, my little whore? My cock the first to breach it?”
Y/N gave a disjointed nod, gasping as he pushed his finger in further and spit on her again. “Yes. I've never.” The garbled words were all she could manage.
Ben hummed. “Fuckin’ love that I get to pop this cherry.”
He spread more slick and spit over her asshole as he continued to push in his thick middle finger, stretching her slowly.
“Okay, baby, this is gonna sting.” He warned as he positioned his cock at her back entrance. “I'm gonna go slow, but I'm gonna give you every inch. And I want you to take it all. Got it?”
Y/N bit her lip as her slick continued to leak down her thighs. “Yes, I wanna feel so full of you.” She panted, so far past the point of denial.
Ben grunted. “Fuck yes.” He pushed forward slightly and it definitely stung. Then he pushed further and it hurt. He stopped as he met resistance. “You need to relax baby. Don't fight me.” he guided her, stroking down her back. He put his hands back on her cheeks, spreading her ass wide again.
“Play with your tits, flick your clit, let yourself enjoy the stretch and burn.” He advised. She did what he suggested and soon she was lost in pleasure again, moaning harshly. He pushed further into her ass, restraining himself from slamming into her as hard and deep as he wanted to. He'd rip her open if he did. So he continued to go slow and listened for her sounds of pleasure as he proceeded.
Finally he was pushed into her completely, buried so deep she felt like she might burst.
“Good girl.” He praised, reaching around and swirling his finger around her clit while she squeezed her own tits hard.
“I'm gonna move now. I'll start as slow as I can, but I'm gonna wanna speed up soon. Think you can handle me?”
Y/N nodded. “Yes. I can take it.”
Ben slid three thick fingers into her cunt and she cried out. He grunted against her spine, and then bit her there, leaving marks.
“This is how I've wanted you for so long, completely stretched, stuffed so full of me you can barely breathe.”
Y/N let out a keening moan and Ben pulled out of her ass slowly. Inside her pussy his fingers found her sweet spot and pressed there gently, tormenting her. He slid slowly in and out of her tight hole for a while stretching her and easing the way.
Finally, when he couldn't hold back anymore, he pressed his fingers in circles against her g-spot making her explode and clench around his fingers.
As she rode her climax, Ben took the chance to slam in and out of her hard and fast, letting the scorching pleasure of her orgasm dull the pain of his huge cock slamming deep and rough into her ass.
Finally he pulled out completely and pushed Y/N down to the floor, leaving her on her knees. She looked up at him, fuck drunk and barely conscious as he pumped his cock.
“Open your mouth. Stick out your tongue.” Ben ordered her through gritted teeth. She obeyed immediately and he tapped his heavy cock against her tongue. “Suck it.” He growled.
Y/N closed her lips around him, sucking hard as she gagged on his thrusting cock.
Finally Ben's hips stuttered and he grabbed the back of her head so he could bury his cock deep down her throat.
He came with a roar and Y/N realized if there were any other people coming to get their coat, they could likely hear everything. But gone along with her pride, was her ability to feel embarrassment. All she wanted was for Ben to keep fucking her. Forever.
He pulled out of her mouth, letting cum and spit dribble onto her tits and her tattered dress. He took pride in the way she was completely broken in now. He knew after this he could fuck her whenever he wanted to; she'd never say no again.
Y/N tried to come back to reality, but her brain was buzzing and her body was throbbing, sore and stiff, but already aching for him again.
Ben tucked away his dick and zipped himself up, before he grabbed a coat. It wasn't hers, but she didn't protest as he wrapped her up in it, covering the torn dress and cum stains.
“Come on, my little cock tease. Let's get you back to my hotel. There are still so many ways I wanna fuck you.” He knew what the answer would be, but his ego asked the question anyway. “You gonna fight me on it? Or are you finally ready to admit this is what you've wanted all along?”
A long distant voice echoed in her head telling her she should be fighting this, but it was faint and easily ignored. She nodded and stopped to pull him down into a kiss.
“Fuck yes, asshole. I permanently surrender.”
Jensen RPF and Any/All Other Jensen Characters:
@lyarr24
@lacilou
@deans-spinster-witch
@globetrotter28
@suckitands33
@akshi8278
@evznackles
@jackles010378
@impala67rollingthroughtown
@krazykelly
@candy-coated-misery0731
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#jacklesversebingo23#soldier boy (ben) x reader#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy smut#soldier boy fan fic#the boys fan fic#request fic
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The Werecats- Nicho and Yuma
>> Idk if this is a fic or a drabble but NichoYuma werecat agenda so fun
>> Werecat!Nicho, werecat!Yuma, threesome, dubcon, oral sex, cockwarming, dp
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>> The new neighbors were quite special. A pair of friends named Nicholas and Yuma- two beautiful young men who could only be described as catty.
>> Nicholas was very laid back. A fashion major who was always great fun when he wanted to be. On the other hand, he was standoffish and had a glare that could kill if he was in a bad mood. Think of a cat that liked being pet but would push your hand away when they were tired of it.
>> On the other hand, Yuma was always in your face. Smiley, full of energy but feisty. He liked affection and his adorable smile just melted your heart in seconds. His silly little snaggletooth just warmed your heart!
>> The day you met them was quite interesting. You were heading out for work when a loud yowl sound shook the walls of your apartment. Peeking your head out, you saw a pretty tall man run past you, laughing as he went by- quickly followed by a slightly shorter man, eyes ablaze as he chased his target.
>> The shorter man was quickly distracted by your presence. His eyes seemed to widen and he gasped, sticking his hand out to you.
>> "Oh hi! You must be our neighbor!" He introduced himself as Yuma and apologized if they woke you up. You assured him that you were already awake so it was no issue.
>> He sighed in relief and mentioned that his roommate was the little troublemaker and if you couldn't sleep- it was cause of him. At the same time, said roommate returned and, after messing up Yuma's hair even more, introduced himself
>> Nicholas was his name and he was more than happy to have met you as well. From there- you guys started to see each other on the regular. Every morning they were out to greet you and welcome you home every night.
>> It was a bit suspicious but they brought you gifts and snacks and started to hang out with you outside of those greetings so you were fine with it.
>> They loved lounging around your couch or letting you pet their hair. Almost to the point, you were positive they were purring when they got that affection from you
>> A few months into your friendship, you were greeted by two beautiful cats waiting outside your apartment one morning. A pretty Siamese cat with a stunning black cat. Staring at you like they were waiting for you for quite some time
>> When you opened the door, they meowed and rubbed their heads against your legs. Purring and encouraging you to pay attention to them
>> As cats do, you didn't have a chance to pet them as they sauntered into your apartment. Making themselves comfortable on your couch, the black cat yawning and curling up for a nap. And the Siamese cat massaging his paws into the cushions.
>> Well, guess this was your serving of the cat distribution system. In this case, if you were gonna have cats, might as well get them names and supplies.
>> Settling on Mittens for the Siamese and Inky for the black cat until other names can be decided later.
>> You would need to get supplies after work but for now, some bacon for breakfast would have to do until you got proper food for them. Feeding the fuzzballs by hand and letting them lick your hands when finished
>> Your heart melted as you kissed their soft foreheads and headed out. All day you thought about the felines but it didn't get past you that you didn't see your neighbors that morning. They had become part of your routine so it was a little sad to not see them.
>> What was more baffling was coming home to see Yuma and Nicholas in the afternoon, but your cats were gone. The front door was slightly ajar when you returned. You panicked that maybe you had left the door open and had been robbed but no such thing had happened.
>> Everything was in place except your new fuzzy friends were gone. You were disheartened that Mittens and Inky left so soon. Maybe they would return though! Lifted up by the thought, you added a cat door to your place (with the landlords' permission of course)
>> And thankfully you did. Because not long after, they causally came sauntering back in one day. On a weekend when you were cleaning around, Inky's fuzzy little head poked through the cat door before stretching and stepping in
>> Inky meowed as if saying hello and leaned his head onto you for attention. You were overjoyed they still remembered you and decided to take a break from the chores. Picking the feline up and smothering him in kisses and treats
>> He melted into your embrace and just let you hold him. At the same time, a soft knock was heard at the door. Revealing an excited Yuma-
>> You of course let him in and the two of you had coffee and snacks while you tried to keep Inky away from eating things cats shouldn't. Poor thing was pouting as aggressively as a cat could- and glaring at Yuma the whole time too
>> You thought it was funny but you enjoyed their company. Another day, it was the opposite. Nicholas and Mittens were here but the glaring never stopped. It wasn't entirely malicious though- it was almost silly and playful
>> So now you have two cat friends and two… cat-like friends!
>> Things started to get a bit strange one night though. It was a full moon and Mittens and Inky were back- making themselves comfortable as per usual- except you noticed 1. They weren't comfortable and 2. Oh, there was a smell…
>> They were on your bed, flopping, rubbing their bottoms, and scratching up your sheets. It was beyond bizarre and you considered getting them to a vet but a quick google search dispelled your fear. It was probably just rut season! Or so you thought-
>> Well the next best thing was to stay home from work and take care of your cat friends. Now how do you take care of cats in this season…
>> You headed to the kitchen, trying to ensure they had food prepared and maybe grabbing some treats for them. Treats and pets always made them feel better!
>> When you returned to the room, you dropped the bags in your hands and had to cover your mouth to stop from screaming. Your cats were gone and now in your bed were your neighbors- naked, blushy in the face and with a pair of fuzzy ears and tails on them
>> Words escaped you as you looked at the two. They barely noticed you as Yuma fucked your pillow and Nicholas had his face buried in your sheets as he touched himself
>> You couldn't tell if you were embarrassed, shy, or turned on- A small gasp was the only thing that left your mouth as you tried to reason what was happening
>> Only then, did they stop and notice your presence. Pupils blown out through drooly and red faces. But it wasn't out of shyness though- No they were hungry, and they wanted you
>> They moved faster than you could process, jumping onto you and sinking their teeth into your neck. Not enough to bleed but enough to mark your soft skin. They were already strong individually but now they treated your weight like nothing - pulling you onto the bed and tearing at your clothes with ease
>> You landed on your stomach- but in someone's lap, strong arms holding you still, with someone's claws grazing against your bare ass
>> "W-wait! Yuma! Nicho! Calm down!" But they didn't hear you. Only licked at your bare skin with rough tongues as their hands roamed your body
>> Someone's hand squeezed your ass when another fondled your breast roughly. A tongue slipped into your mouth while another pushed your legs open and started to lick at your cunt
>> You tried to hold it back but a moan slipped out of your mouth, quickly swallowed up by the tongue reaching into your throat-
>> A part of you was starting to melt and enjoy this, another part wanted to fight back and push them away. You tried to push off whoever was kissing you- which you figured out was Nicholas when you opened your eyes
>> A low growl emitted from his chest as his hands snapped up to your throat, his claw-like fingers dug into your flesh and held you still. His tongue never stopped exploring your mouth
>> At the same time, Yuma never stopped eating your pussy out. Licking and sucking at your clit like it was some toy as his tongue teased your entrance. Your hips started to shake as they continued to stimulate you. Unknowingly prepping your body for them to use
>> They were usually good at controlling themselves on full moons. Nicholas and Yuma were essentially werecats- able to shift at will with heightened senses and of course, a cat form
>> But when the moon was full, they lost their senses and became just horny desperate creatures. They usually just dealt with it, waking up the next morning to a messy home and a silent agreement to not ask questions
>> But now, they met you. Their beautiful, sweet, and fun neighbor who literally always left her door open for them. And in cat language, that meant you belonged to them
>> So to their cat brains, your space was for them to mark and your body was theirs to use to get off and breed as they pleased. Which was why your so-called 'pleas' didn't make sense to them and were ignored. To them, your body was delicious and only drove them crazier.
>> You were loosening up and relaxing in their grip. Nicholas finally detached himself from your lips, giving you a chance to breathe. But his lips were quickly replaced by the head of his red and throbbing cock
>> It was big for sure and the little barbs around the shaft scared you a bit but you know what he wanted. Your lips parted only slightly while your mind ran wild
>> Well you didn't have time to think it through, Yuma had already aligned himself with your pussy and pushed in roughly, making you gasp and lurch forward and taking Nicholas into your mouth
>> You could hear their moans and purrs of satisfaction as they started to thrust into you roughly. Not a care in the world as you gagged and stretched around them
>> Claws dug into your hair and into your hips, keeping you steady as they used your body like a simple toy for them. The brush of a tail against your nipples or a tickle against your throat sent you spiraling
>> At first it hurt. Oh, it hurt so badly- not used to their large size, the barbed sensation, or the force of their thrusts. But in a strange way, your body relaxed and enjoyed this experience
>> You moaned around the cock in your throat- now moving your hips back to meet Yuma's thrusts and tightening your throat around Nicholas and dragging your tongue against his length
>> They were clearly sensitive and came in no time. Filling you up on both ends with their thick seed, yowls of pleasure filled the air but they never stopped
>> And a part of you was glad they didn't slow down or stop, even as your brain turned to mush, your body trembled in their grip and quaked as your orgasm build-up
>> No need to be ceremonious and warn them, they weren't going to register it or stop until they were satisfied, including fucking you raw and full until the sun came up
>> Granted, every time you came it was like a reward to them. Encouraging them to go longer and stuff you more as the sheets soaked beneath you and your brain went foggy
>> The next morning was quite the doozy. Waking up sore, your body covered in bruises and shallow claw marks- cuddled up in your bed with your neighbors, still slightly damp with cum - and cock warming both of them in your fucked out cunt
>> You twitched slightly trying to sit up but were met by a tightening grip around your waist and a rough tongue licking your sensitive also bruised neck
>> Looking around, you recalled more of the previous night- your cats- Nicholas and Yuma- oh, and the sex… lots of that. That explained your position
>> Finding out that your cats were werecats… or your neighbors were your cats… however you put it, it was bizarre. But you could ask those questions later. Instead , petting the set of fluffy ears they still had out
>> Yuma's ears twitched and he smiled, his cute little tooth popping out. Nicholas purred lowly at the contact and opened his eyes
>> "Hi- morning you crazy kitty." Nicholas scoffed at you but nuzzles his nose into your hair
>> "Hey, are we awake now?" Yuma popped his head up, his tail wagging full of energy
>> "Yes. And actually, you both have some explaining to do."
>> It took a second for them both to register the situation, finally turning red from pure embarrassment at the situation. They're lucky you loved them both already- regardless of the form they took for the day
#&team hard thoughts#&team hard hours#&team smut#andteam smut#&team x reader#&team nicho smut#nicho smut#andteam nicholas smut#andteam nicholas#&team nicholas#&team drabbles#&team yuma smut#yuma smut#&team yuma#andteam yuma#yuma x reader#andteam yuma smut#&team nicholas x reader#werecat
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yandere Gun Park x f!reader (how he would deal with some assholes trying to catcall his girl? and how he would comfort her??) 🤨 the situation might be like she called him to pick her up at late night after having a party at a club w/her friends? thank you!
THE BLOOD ON HIS HANDS (YANDERE JONGGUN PARK X READER)
You weren't one to head out for clubs but you decided to make an exception this one time since it was your friend's birthday and you couldn't miss out on it since it would be rude and you didn't have the heart to disappoint your friend on her special day but you also promised yourself that you wouldn't drink. You were dressed in a knee length maroon dress that hugged your curves and left your hair open as you grabbed your black purse and the gift for your friend and put on your heels and made your way down to the club for the party. Your friend let out an excited squeal as she spotted you and enveloped you in a hug and you placed the gift on the table nearby while you surveyed the scene around you, the strobe lights made your head throb slightly but you ignored the feeling and you felt yourself getting lost in your thoughts, trying to ignore the chatter around you and the hustle and bustle
You wouldn't say you had a bad time either, you had fun dancing with your friends and you couldn't help but feel bashful and flustered after you finished your karaoke song and everyone around you clapped and cheered for you. Your friend cut her birthday cake and after a few light hearted conversations with your other friends, you decided you had enough fun for one night and you could feel your social energy draining out as you bade your friends goodbye and you decided to leave. Little did you know, just like how good things must come to an end, a horrid end was about to ruin your perfect night unbeknownst to you
You've always found comfort and solace in the night time, you liked the way the cool breeze felt around your skin as you looked up at the inky dark night sky shimmering with stars and your mind could form images of various constellations you'd read about a while ago as you hummed softly to yourself and continued to walk. While you were walking, you halted a few moments later as you stared at the large yellow board in front of you with the words 'Construction in progress' as you groaned in dismay and you realized you had to take another route through the alleyways which was an option you weren't overly fond of since it meant you'd take longer to reach home. Besides, you were sure Gun wouldn't be too pleased if you were back home later than the time you both agreed on as you sighed and decided to just suck it up and deal with it and you started making your way to the alleyways
While you walked, you spotted a few alcohol bottles strewn across on the ground and a few cigarettes on the ground as well as you scrunched up your nose in distaste and walked faster, your heart beat racing after every step. Your eyes landed on the 4 men sitting on their bikes a distance away from you in the alleyway, their words a bit slurred and looking like they were drunk as you gulped nervously and put your head down, hoping that they wouldn't pick on you if you just minded your own business and went on your merry way. "Well boys, look what we have here, a fine piece of meat...damn she's hot'' hollered one of the guys as the other guys laughed in response at his words and you cringed at his words but didn't say anything and continued to walk faster till someone got in front of you and blocked your path. "Where are you going cutie, you don't wanna spend time with us and get to know us? I'm hurt you know...'' said the guy in front of you and laughed mockingly as he leaned closer to you. You flinched and recoiled backwards and tried to step towards the other side till he blocked your path again and played with a strand of your hair and sniffed it with a lecherous look in his eyes
"Please let me go'' you whispered as you backed away from him till someone grabbed your arms from the back and pushed his face closer to your neck. "You smell so good...and such a pretty voice...wonder how pretty you'd look when you're under us, screaming our names...I bet you'd like that wouldn't you given the way you're dressed...it's like you're practically asking for someone to spend the night with you'' whispered the man as he chuckled darkly and you felt tears prick your eyes at his words and bile rising to your throat. Your hands reached into your purse and you quickly dialed Gun's number hoping he'd answer the phone before another guy ripped your purse away from you and threw it on the ground away from your reach. "Let's have some fun with no distractions, yeah? No one's going to hear you scream...'' he spoke maliciously as his eyes glinted with dark desire for you and you struggled in vain against the man who was holding you captive in his arms and tears flowed down your face freely
You remembered seeing Gun fight multiple times and you tried to replicate one of his moves which ended up in one of the men slapping you hard across the face and he held your cheeks harshly and grabbed your hair which made you wince in pain. "I'll show you what happens to dumb little girls like you who think they're too good'' he hissed as his hand darted out to tear your dress off and you shut your eyes and whimpered till you heard the sound of the same man letting out a sharp grunt of pain. Your mind was filled with confusion as you opened your eyes to see the man who slapped you now on the ground grunting in pain and clutching at his now broken hand as a familiar guy wearing a black suit and black glasses blended into the darkness of the night as he emerged from the shadows looking irritated
"GUN!" you cried out in relief, your heart soaring with joy after seeing him as his eyes momentarily softened when his gaze landed on you but after the whimpers of the man beneath him got on his nerves, he calmly lit a cigarette and stomped on the guy's head and back and glared at the guys around you. Another guy tried to attack him and went in for a punch when Gun just let out a disinterested hum and grabbed his arm and twisted it as the man fell on the ground wincing in pain. Gun then kicked his shins and kicked his jaw which rendered the man unconscious. One of them tried to run away in fear when Gun grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him against the wall repeatedly over and over again till his head dripped with blood and he fell down unconscious. The fourth guy whimpered and pleaded for mercy as he fell down to his knees pathetically sobbing but Gun let out a noise of discontent and disgust as he grabbed him by his hair. "You bastards actually had the audacity to lay your hands on MY woman...I don't show mercy'' he replied coldly as he twisted his neck the other side and the guy fell down on the ground. At this point you were pretty sure he wasn't breathing and the others were probably dead or something as Gun, to add insult for injury stubbed out his cigarette on one of their foreheads and stomped on their hands for a good measure before he made his way to you and his hands gently brushed against your cheek to dry your tears
"Don't worry love...I'm here..'' he whispered as his expression softened to see your scared and vulnerable state and brushed a few strands of hair from your face and pulled you close to him. He removed his jacket and wrapped it around you and kissed your head gently. "How...how did you even find me, I thought the call didn't go through'' you said and looked at him as he smirked at you in amusement. "You really think I'd let my girl walk through these streets with no help? I'm always watching your every move, that's why I told you it's better if I just lock you in my house and throw away the key so you won't get into situations like this...although I'm tempted to do it now. I'm not leaving you...ever'' he spoke as his voice was laced with the usual possessiveness he had for you and his grip on your wrist became tighter
You tried to walk when you let out a wince of pain and your face morphed into a grimace as he realized you hurt your foot. He immediately lifted you bridal style in his arms and you let out a squeak of nervousness. "It's fine, I can walk, I don't want to burden you'' you mumbled as he gave you a sharp glare. "You're NOT a burden and never will be. Now stop your silly protesting, I'm carrying you whether you like it or not. Your foot is injured so don't give me that I'm fine nonsense'' he replied sharply as you could feel your cheeks tinge slightly with a blush and you hid your face with your hands which he found rather endearing and he chuckled softly as he pecked a kiss to your cheeks before he made his way back to his residence
You took a nice warm shower and he motioned for you to come to bed with him as you climbed on the bed with him and he wrapped his arms around you firmly and he kissed your head. "Thanks for saving me'' you mumbled and leaned closer to his warm embrace, that spread warmth through your heart and made you feel safe and protected. "Of course, it's nothing you should be thanking me about...'' he replied and stroked your hair. He watched you drift off to sleep, his heart weighing heavily to see the tired and pained expression on your face because of the ordeal you had to go through today as he held you close to him, keeping you safe and sheltered in his arms. He wouldn't hesitate to kill for you again, his only regret was giving those fools a quick and fast death instead of a slow and agonizing one. But the next time someone would ever dare to mess with you, he wouldn't hesitate to grant them a slow painful death, besides, what's more blood on his hands going to do when he's already killed so many in your name and for the sake of your love and safety?
#yandere jonggun park x reader#yandere jonggun park#yandere gun park x reader#yandere gun park imagines#yandere gun park oneshots#yandere gun park scenarios#yandere gun park headcanons#yandere lookism characters x reader#yandere lookism characters#yandere lookism x reader#yandere lookism#dark lookism characters x reader#dark lookism characters#dark lookism x reader#dark lookism#lookism#lookism x reader#lookism headcanons
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