#fucking hell that was longer than I expected
Note
Hi sorry if this is a weird ask but my birthday is the 24th and I would love it if I could wake up that morning to both Lucifer and Alastor absolutely ravishing reader. Just pure smut and aftercare please
I did fem reader I hope that’s okay, it’s who I write the most so I thought maybe you just wanted what I commonly wrote. sorry it’s a little late, and also shhh it’s a secret because I can’t write birthday stories for everyone due to time. But you were the first to ask and you asked so far in advance so—
Surprise!
「warnings/promises: Alastor x FemReader x Lucifer, smut, barely a plot, tug of war, you are the rope, slight kink with breath play and restraint, attempt at aftercare, lost balloons, mention of dead deer (roadkill)」
🎂 Minors please no 🎉 🎈 this an an 18+ only party 🥂
You weren’t sure what you were expecting when the typically reserved Alastor now (seemingly) tipsy invited you to his room. He was always touchy, but the more he drink the longer his hands would stay on you. So naturally you said nothing at all and followed him out of the parlor.
And you had no idea what to think when the King of Hell saw you being pulled by the wrist and stopped you both.
There was some bickering about where you were going and what Alastor thought he was doing. The overlord making a joke about height and size. The former angel mentioning experience.
Soon both wrists were being held but by different demons.
Ripping you apart seemed like a possibility, but somehow you ended up in an even more difficult situation to accept than second death.
Both refusing to go to the other’s room you were dragged to your own.
Arguing around you, you were moved and turned before Lucifer snapped his fingers and your clothes fell off you at the seams. You turned to see both men nude and slowly leading you to bed. No complaints, you enjoyed just following their directions.
You couldn’t be sure how they came to their final agreement but soon you were lying on top of Alastor, impressive cock rubbing against your clit and a large portion of your lower stomach as Lucifer was fucking you from behind. The way he angled did feel practiced, so the king of lies wasn’t bluffing earlier.
Alastor's body was so warm under yours, the leaking of his precum spreading across your skin with every thrust from Luci’s hips. Your swollen clit and wet lips were sliding up and down Alastor’s base, stroking him harshly as you had no power over the movement.
“Good girl,” Lucifer’s hands roamed down your body, “Let me hear your voice.”
You could barely speak, the feeling of Luci’s large cockhead dragging along your walls was keeping your mouth busy with moans.
Another surprise, Alastor’s arms coming up and wrapping around you tightly. Any space between you was gone. With your body immobilized except for where your hips moved as you were pierced by Lucifer, Alastor began to hump up against you for the chase of release. The faster he moved, the louder and more uncontrolled your noises became.
“Stop being selfish, roadkill.” A yank of your hips pulling you a little too harshly down on Lucifer, ass flush with his crotch. A small scream into the radio demon’s chest.
“Now those are pretty sounds.” Alastor said through gritted teeth, ignoring the devil entirely.
Another tug of war, but not with your wrists. One man’s hands on your waist holding you still so he could rut into your soft flesh. The other man’s hands on your hips so he could bring to meet every thrust into your now dripping cunt.
“Ffuuuck,” Luci clamored on top of you, hips pistoning down like an animal with a singular unmet need. “Gonna cum.”
Why did he feel the need to tell you? You could feel him already pulsing as he pressed against your cervix. Yet the words alone sent a shot of electricity to your lap.
As Lucifer’s hips slowed, Alastor took the opportunity to regain control. It wasn’t clear if he knew how good it felt when he rubbed against you. You clenched around the still stiff and twitching cock buried in you and focused on the increasingly wet slip of Alastor’s shaft over your swollen clit. The pressure of Lucifer’s body weight pressing you down added a new level of arousal you hadn’t felt before, the feeling of being held down, of your breath being restricted just in the slightest. Quickly you found yourself reaching a breaking point, a small mountain you barely made it to the crest of before Alastor came across your stomach and his own, your chest not escaping the impressive shot. The small movements of his hips afterwards and the feeling of him cumming so much pushed you over the cliff and into your own orgasm.
Lucifer hissed above you, “Woah, that’s— you’re gonna make me cum again if you keep squeezing like that.” With a pat to your ass he pulled out and dismounted. Your shakey arms you lifted yourself off of Alastor, who was already holding a towel and wiping his chest clean. He was muttering to himself about something, his face screwed up at the sight. When you fell face down back onto the bed Lucifer crawled over Alastor to sit just below the swell of your ass, hands rubbing up and down your back. A groan, a mix of pleasured massage and painful bullying of sore muscles.
He was shoved off of you, Alastor rolling you over gingerly to wipe at your stomach and attempt to get your blanket clean as well.
“Definitely worth the brief nudity, dear.” His usual smile soft, you were confident it was a compliment.
Lucifer popped up again, a jack in the box of human proportions, “You’re an ass.” He reached for you hand and rubbed circles into your palms as he spread out the often used muscles there. “Feeling okay?” You nodded, a chill coming over you.
Alastor’s turn now, a green glow and a snap and you found yourself clothed again. Not your clothes, but you didn’t particularly care. Alastor was back to his usual attire, but for some reason Lucifer remained stark naked except his large hat. Had it been there the entire time?
Before you could find the will to ask, the doors burst open with a loud blaring honk of an air horn, “SURPRISE!” The hotel staff and star resident cheered, “HAPPY BIR-,”
“What in the actual the fuck.” Angel pointed at the obvious.
“Dad!”
“Nah I’m out.” Husk let the balloons float to the ceiling and left.
Vaggie pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes clenched with not-at-all hidden aggravation, “What the fuck, you were supposed to trick her into going to the library Alastor! We were waiting for like 30 minutes! Pendejo.”
Alastor shrugged, “Eh I had a better idea.”
A loud noise above you, a kazoo having appeared in Lucifer’s mouth. His hands shot up with an exhausted excitement, “Happy Birthday!”
why do I love writing reader being walked in on??
#alastor x reader#lucifer magne x reader#radioapple#radioapple x reader#Hazbin hotel smut#alastor smut#alastor x reader smut#hazbin alastor#alastor#alastor x lucifer#alastor x you
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love and power
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chapter eight
“i want everything i asked for.”
Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie
tags/warnings: ‘fuck it, do him scared!’ or whatever the saying is, no plot cuz y’all have had enough of that, pheromones are putting in work cuz you have heart eyes, y’all are touch-starved and pent up, half-transformation demon alastor (i hope that makes sense lol), implied demon alastor, little bit of angst or even hurt/comfort at the end? 🥲 smut: clothes ripping, scratching, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, slight degradation & praise kink dynamics, blood play & biting, handjob, orgasm denial, cream pie
word count: 6.6k *maniacal laughter*
author’s note: it wouldn’t be right to start this off without a formal apology for the cliffhanger and then, subsequently, the publishing delay 🥲✨ this ended up being more of a labor of love than i had expected; i just seemed to have such bad luck, this week of all weeks. thank you for your patience, and i hope this makes up for it! @hazelfoureyes one of these days i’ll have some more for you, but until then darling, you ever so kindly ‘asked’ me for smut so… 💅🏻💖
prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight
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Alastor meant for it to be chaste, really he did. And while he had desperately hoped for acceptance, the ardor with which you returned the kiss was unexpected. The grip of your hands around his wrists was fierce, pulling him in; fingers like sticky fibers against the patch of bare skin nestled between his gloves and the cuff of his shirt.
So you were hungry, too… He couldn’t help but smile against your mouth at the thought.
Finally, his luck was turning around.
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When you offered your help to Alastor, a kiss was the last thing you ever expected.
Actually, you had been fully prepared for him to hurt you somehow, whether it was his intention or not. He had gotten upset so quickly, you assumed it must have been residual animosity from the meeting with Valentino that he could no longer contain. The more you thought about it, you truly understood how degraded he must have been by the whole affair, filling you with a guilt you worried might never go away. He needed a victory.
So offering your help was the least you could do.
But you never could have imagined the way he took your face in his strong hands, holding you with such care despite the intensity roiling off him in his half-formed demonic state. The strain on his face as he struggled to compose himself, his eyes switching back from black with red dials to that familiar searing red. The storming hunger you saw in them, half-lidded, as he closed the gap between you…
Your mind was practically rendered blank, running on instinct; the warm ache throbbing between your hips quickly taking up any remaining space that was left.
His mouth was softer than you expected but his press against you was firm and wickedly practiced. You felt him smile against you and for a moment you forgot to breathe, the resulting gasp being the perfect opportunity for Alastor’s tongue to snake into your mouth. If your eyes hadn’t already been closed, they would have rolled to the back of your head. His tongue was soft and big and hot, his movements steady and filled with purpose; not a drop of wasted effort. You could only hope to keep up…
It was such arduous work keeping your hands at his wrists, floored by the intense desire you had to reach out and touch him. But you didn’t know your limits here. He was still riled up — if anything, you had heard his antlers grow — and you didn’t want to make any wrong moves.
So you put all your longing into the grip of your fingers and mouth, your mind wandering on the feeling of him. Large, elegant hands cupping your face like glass. His body looming over you, offering shelter you were more than willing to accept. His mouth so hot against yours it would leave you feeling cold once it was gone. And he smelled so good this close, smoky and verdant like a bonfire on a crisp autumn night.
Your thighs rubbed together from the pulse radiating there, and he let out a small groan against your mouth as your nails absently dug into the skin of his wrists. The sound of him simultaneously made your legs weak and fanned the flame between them. His voice had always been nice — he didn’t build a career for himself on the radio for nothing — but you felt a growing fear at the aspect of never hearing something like that again after he was sated; knowing that no matter what it would haunt you for eternity.
I really am so fucked…
He was pecking now, his breath and teeth and tongue ghosting over your swollen mouth and face as he feverishly placed multiple at a time. You wanted to reciprocate so badly, whether with your lips or hands, but it was clear he needed to ravish you first so you stayed put in a shocking exhibit of will-power. But when you felt the tug of his teeth against the corner of your jaw you couldn’t stop the shaky moan that escaped you, not even noticing how your hips rolled on nothing but air.
That’s all it took.
Alastor pulled away and gave a quick kiss to your hands before dropping them to take up the torn fabric of your collar. He gave it a sharp pull, tearing your dress straight through to the waist; the sound ringing out in the quiet of your room with the promise of what’s to come. You were too stunned by the suddenness of the action, but the look on your face must have really been something if the expression you were seeing on his was any indication — ravenous and wild.
Your chest heaved with quickening breath, heartbeat kicking and head empty as you felt all the blood in your body rushing down. Too overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, you dared to bury your face in his chest, grateful to be just tall enough to reach. Mortifying as it was, it was all you could think to do.
Though safety wasn’t the only thing you found, pressing in so close to him like this, your throat going dry at the feeling of his arousal against you. No amount of time or experience could have prepared you for this, for him. You were beginning to think that there would be nothing left once he was through with you.
Just need a minute…
Mercifully, he let you. Even going so far as to cradle you against him, cupping the back of your head with his left hand. You relaxed into him, a hot puff of air leaving your mouth to soak into the fabric of his clothes. Alastor’s pleased hum in response vibrated against your face, and you brought your hands up to grip the lapels of his coat for fear of crumbling at his feet.
As you steeled yourself, he didn’t desist from his poking and prodding at your exposed back with his free hand. It disappeared briefly, followed by the faint sound of something falling to the carpet before the air was ripped from your lungs at the touch of his hot, bare skin against yours. You whined into his chest as your back arched against his palm, your fingers nearly ripping through his coat with the force of your grip, earning a gruff and sinister chuckle from him. Being able to bask in the feeling of the rumble in his chest against you was a lovely consolation, though. And just under that… his heartbeat.
His hand against your back regained your attention then, scratching and massaging at its leisure; nails tracing indistinguishable shapes along your skin. Traveling up and down your spine at first,then your shoulders and, finally, the back of your neck where he paused.
His message read loud and clear: time was up.
Alastor pulled you away from him with a gentle firmness, managing to handle you with care despite his clear desire for haste. You could see it burning in his eyes with no intent to extinguish any time soon. He was so mystifying like this, you couldn’t help but drink him in. Stately, powerful… beautiful. It seemed impossible now that you had ever been afraid of him in this state of half-transformation. He didn’t seem to mind the admiration, soft smile and lust-heavy eyes radiating with ego.
His antlers look so handsome when they’re branched out like this…
“Shouldn’t you have offered to take my coat by now? I’m your guest, aren’t I?” he teased as he swiped your dumbstruck mouth with the pad of his thumb. The filter dipped in and out over his quiet, low tone of voice, sending a fresh wave of heat to your core and cheeks as you fought the urge to nuzzle your face against his bare hand. How had he already reduced you to this? “But I suppose I haven’t been well-mannered myself. Just look at what’s become of your dress.”
His face was smug as he played with the decimated fabric, fingers dancing across your exposed neck and shoulders before pulling down the long sleeves. They had been the glue, apparently, your dress falling past your hips with ease and into a heap on the floor in near silence. Goosebumps pricked your skin as you stood before him in your underwear, already feeling naked as he took you in. You noticed him focus in on your shoulder and neck, the draw of his eyebrows confirming your earlier suspicion that he had left a bruise.
“It’s fine, it didn’t hurt,” you lied self-consciously, unable to keep the nerves out of your voice. It sounded like an apology. He hadn’t meant it and in the grand scheme of things was a bruise really so bad? It would be gone before you knew it.
He didn’t seem convinced, a sound of disapproval coming from behind his closed lips before a smile took its place. “Hmm… if you say so. Perhaps a kiss to make it better?”
Alastor wasted no time leaning down to place his mouth there, and you sighed as the heat of his wide, wet tongue swiped over it before he closed his lips with a small smack. As he nuzzled in — kissing, licking, sucking, nipping — your shaky fingers took to the task of unbuttoning his coat as he had suggested. The action earning you a growl and a bite, not yet enough to break the skin but taking your breath away all the same; the fire in your belly now flickering up into your chest.
Once the coat was loose you ran your hands under it, starting near his waist to travel up his chest until you reached his broad shoulders. Was he the one who was so hot, or was it you? It was impossible to tell. You used the top of your hands to start working the coat off of him, and he paused from his effort at your neck to assist with removing his arms from it before tossing it off to the side — his remaining glove along with it. You caught sight of the saliva glistening around his mouth and chin before he resumed his station and didn’t even try to hold back the soft moan that escaped you.
What was the point?
With a snarl — that was the closest thing you could think to call it — his hands hooked behind your knees and hiked you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around him for purchase as you gasped. Alastor’s mouth found yours again and you held his face to keep steady as you hunched over him, tears forming at the corner of your closed eyes from the relief of being able to touch him this time.
This kiss wasn’t as poised as the first had been. It was hurried and open-mouthed, messy and deep. Not enough, not enough, not enough. You broke away this time, seizing your opportunity to explore his face with your lips as he had yours. His claws bit into the flesh of your ass as your mouth latched onto his neck, sucking at the pulse you found there. The resulting buck of your hips from the action and the moan he let out only pulling another from both of you.
You didn’t even notice that he had been walking until you were suddenly tossed onto the bed, his body immediately caging you in beneath him. You hooked your legs around him as he ground into you, your cry of pleasure from the friction echoing off the walls. He did it again and you whined, squirming, his hands on either side of your head as he leered down; red eyes glowing with satisfaction.
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Alastor took a moment to take in the sight before him, feeling his eyes glitch as he roamed over your flushed face.
He made quick work of grabbing your face with one hand to pucker your mouth before returning to explore it with his tongue. It surprised him how much he was enjoying this; kissing you with abandon, somehow never scratching the incessant itch despite his efforts. He captured your bottom lip with his teeth, resiliently managing not to bite straight through it as you moaned into his mouth.
“Alastor…!”
His name was a song on your breath, scorching down from his ears to his cock, all of which reacted with a twitch.
One string loose.
How many more would he need to cut before you went slack?
Who had bound you up like this in the first place? It certainly hadn’t been him. On the contrary, he was so eager to see you torn open and bare, stripped of all the little secrets tangled like knots on your tether to him. Always keeping your guard up around him wasn’t only irritating… it was selfish. And there was only one of you here allowed that luxury.
Still, this was quite the consolation prize, seeing you surrender to him so easily. He had barely gotten started and you were already making such a pretty face for him; a new favorite, even. Your little pout that normally inspired vexation looked sweet like this, swollen with his kisses. It was an image he would soon not forget, being so much better than what he had imagined.
Your scent had truly blossomed now, dizzying him with the potency of its floral, nutty musk; just a hint of sweetness underneath. It complimented his own smokey, green, and bitter scent so well. But Alastor was ready to make his next new discovery, his hips finally lifting away from you as he gave you a final peck on the mouth.
“Hmmm, delicious as your mouth is, there’s another place I’m quite eager to kiss.” He could feel the wickedness on his face as he said it, unable to contain the static that flared around him as you breathed out a curse, body trembling.
Alastor made a slow descent, teasing you with licks and bites and kisses to draw out as many moans and whimpers as he could from you. Such music you made for him. Only for him. It was a good thing he had already resolved to avoid sleep as much as he could in the future; he wouldn’t get much anyway with the sounds you made ringing in his head like church bells.
He could see the damp soaked into your underwear before he even touched them, already intoxicated by the smell and heat wafting off your core. He’d have to be careful here… not an easy task, but he’d manage. The self-advised warning did little to stop him from tearing the garment in half with ease, enjoying the wide-eyed look you gave him as you quickly propped up on your elbows from the sound.
“I’d apologize for frightening you, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t mean it,” he said, holding your gaze as he palmed your bare sex, thrilled by how wet you already were. You were having such a hard time keeping your composure, serving only to egg him on. He hummed and continued, almost surprised by the words that came out of his mouth, “You don’t seem to mind, though… how lewd.”
Your head fell back with a loud whine, arms giving out so that you were flat on your back again; face scarlet as his fingers moved against you, collecting your arousal. His dick throbbed against him at the sight, leaking onto his skin and clothes. He couldn’t help the hiss that spilled from between his teeth when he tested you with his middle finger, tight as you were wet.
“Oh my… it’s been a while for you too, hm? I’m honored,” he cooed, relishing the way you whimpered and clenched at his words. “I do worry how you’ll fare… Contrary to the restraint I’ve shown so far, I must warn you… I don’t have the capacity for gentleness today.”
Your eyes shot open with shock, and with that he removed his finger and brought it up, putting the entirety of it in his mouth to suck you off as you watched. His eyes closed in pleasure, groaning as his tongue lapped up every bit of you, savoring every second. Clean and tart… like a ripe summer cherry. He couldn’t stop the bit of drool that escaped the corner of his mouth, the rush of saliva incensed by your taste coming on too quickly to swallow it all.
Alastor was breathing hard through his nose, a fresh wave of hunger — he wasn’t sure what else to call it — trembling through him with a fierce burning need. His smile and voice were sharp, static fraying as he spoke, “Hmmm… My imagination wasn’t even close. Aiming to please, dear?”
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His fascination with licking you off him would be your second-death. Not only that, but you hadn’t expected him to say any of the obscene things that were spilling from his mouth, let alone the way you were responding to them. You had been subject to dirty talk before and enjoyed it (if done well), but… there was just something about it all coming from Alastor that set your veins on fire.
“Alastor, please, it’s embarrassing,” you pleaded through gasps, watching through half-open eyes as he licked away at his hand. You felt as if you had a fever, your face was so hot, hair already beginning to stick to your forehead with sweat.
As if falling on deaf ears, he merely proceeded to give a sharp tug to his bowtie, removing it in one go before unbuttoning his shirt. Something about the harsh way he pulled his shirt from the belted waist of his pants made you dizzy, but you felt a scream die in your throat watching the way his shoulders and chest moved as he freed his arms, with just the slightest flex of his abdomen; your eyes unable to resist following the trail of hair below his navel that disappeared under his belt.
You had made peace with your budding attraction to him — it was easier that way, considering your near-constant state of proximity — but this felt like being tossed directly into the fire.
Burning at the stake.
As he towered over you, you took in the large, pink scar lacerated across his chest from left shoulder to the right side of his ribcage. There had been mentions of the battle against Adam and his Exorcists within the group; how terrifying it had been, how brave everyone was. The loss of their friend Sir Pentious, who had died trying to help protect them against Adam. That was when the conversation normally tapered off, the grief still too close at his loss, but also because of what led up to it.
From what you understood, Adam had been Alastor’s appointed target to handle. One he was unmatched against, if the scar was any indication. A killing blow he had managed to survive. You hoped the pity you felt wasn’t making its way into your gaze as you looked at him, knowing he’d dislike it. Still… You sat up with hands stretched out, the instinct to touch and comfort him too strong to fight. But he pushed you back down, a shadow coming over his face as bent over you.
“Patience, sweetheart. I still owe you a kiss.”
You didn’t have time to process the dismissal before he raked his nails on your skin as he dipped down, your back arching up to meet them as you breathed through the small sting of pain. A splash of sobriety hit you as you felt the heat of his breath hovering over your cunt, your stomach tight as he moved closer, a wanton cry as he finally lapped at you with his tongue; a slow, wide, firm sweep from hole to clit. Sealed with a kiss, as promised.
You shuddered and gripped the duvet as if your life depended on it. The image of him nestled between your legs making your brain short-circuit. His eyes were shrouded with a predation that should have terrified you. So why did it thrill you instead?
“Oh my god…”
That wicked grin of his…
“Last I checked, Hell is the absence of God. Let’s try again, shall we?”
He hiked your legs over his shoulders, looped his arms around to grab the top of your thighs, and pulled you to his mouth. You saw white as he wasted no time in setting a voracious pace, his tongue dipped into you — long and thick — as his nose pushed against your clit with every open-and-close of his mouth. His chin providing a pleasant hardness that nearly knocked the wind out of you.
He was incessant.
Sucking, prodding, licking, and swallowing; a starving man who may never eat or drink again. Your hands found purchase on his antlers, a bit smaller now but still looming, earning a moan of approval into your heat that blossomed in your chest. The room was filled with the sound of wet smacks and a harmony of throaty groans from him; keening, breathy moans from you. Both unabashed.
In between breathing his name, words were tumbling from your mouth that you couldn’t register, too lost in the feeling of him on you. Not just your pussy, but your legs, too. His hands gripping your thighs so fiercely as your hips rolled against his face that you hoped for bruises. A keepsake. It was impossible to know if this would ever happen again.
You hadn’t even realized you were slipping away from yourself until he pulled back with a sharp gasp, finally coming up for air, jerking his antlers from your hands. The lower half of his face shimmered with a blend of your arousal and his spit, the sclera of his eyes gone black, dials taking the shape of his red irises. Again, your arms reached out, shaking from the effort as you tried to catch your breath.
“Kiss…,” you barely managed to say, dizzied as you were.
Alastor obliged, climbing up to your open hands as you pulled him down to you, unable to find the strength to meet him halfway. He flinched as you ran your tongue over his left cheek, licking up some of the mess there as he wiped at the other side with the back of his hand. The taste of your combined fluids sent a jolt of pleasure through you and you moaned through the sloppy, open-mouthed kiss that followed. The laugh that escaped him was sinister but sent another wave of warmth through you all the same.
He rewarded you with a finger, followed quickly by another. And before you knew it, another. Pumping in and out of you with a delicious stretch and a maddeningly consistent pace before they curled, teasing your spongy core as his thumb circled your clit at the switch; the sudden onset of your orgasm had your body trembling under his touch.
“Ohh… mm, fuck…! Hmmmnn… Ah—! Alasto—ahh!”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” His voice was rough but soothing. A crackle of static melded into your moans and the wet sounds of your cunt, and he gave his head a violent shake as if to clear it. There was nothing but a growling need when he spoke next. “I’ve got you, don’t fight it. Let me see how pretty that sullen face of yours looks when you cum…!”
It was all too much. Just the intensity of his eyes on yours boxed in between your hands holding his face could have sent you over the edge. But his words again, that pet name…
The tether snapped so viciously you were fairly certain you passed out for a moment, your vision gone black as you screamed. Only to be brought back to consciousness by Alastor’s fingers slowly riding the wave of your orgasm, no longer stroking with purpose — you were clenched around him so tightly his previous pace would have probably injured you both — but with a languid solace. Graciously accepting every roll of your hips into his hand as you moaned his name and gasped for breath.
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God, it was so fucking satisfying to see your face twisted up, eyebrows knit and your pouty lips salaciously framing your open mouth as you cried out for him. Another perfectly shattered expectation, much like the rest of this experience had been. He didn’t even mind that your eyes were shut. The consolation being the glimpse he caught of them rolling to the back of your head before they were out of sight. That, and, this would only be your first. He was determined to get at least one more out of you before this was over, truly unsure how much you could handle.
He was surprising even himself, speaking to you in the manner he was. He enjoyed a good tease, but he couldn’t recall going to this extent before. Perhaps it was a result of the pheromones, but he simply couldn’t seem to help it. The reactions it was pulling from you were too exhilarating to deny himself… and by extension, you.
His static was filling the air, buzzing with the energy of a lightning storm as he sucked you off his fingers once more with a snarl; his free hand sloppily undoing his belt before giving it a freeing tug, desperately hard erection weeping slightly at the bit of alleviation. As the realization that he was preparing to enter you sunk in another ripple of goosebumps pinpricked his skin, causing him to bite down on the inside of his lip from the sensation.
The taste of his own blood came with inspiration.
Alastor tucked back some of your damp hair before bringing his face down to meet yours, swiping at your lips with his blood-coated tongue. Testing the waters. Your eyebrows drew together and you stretched underneath him, as if waking from a night’s sleep, before blinking your eyes open. He watched as your tongue responded with a quick prod of what he had left there, and felt his smile grow when you let out a hum of content.
He would never tire of being right.
“I thought you might like that, my little killer… Have some more,” he whispered against you. Giving your lips another rough lick before taking your mouth again, groaning into each other as your tongue soothed his still-bleeding lip.
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Something about this kiss was different.
There was a fierceness this time that hadn’t been there before, no doubt spurred on by the blood pooling in Alastor’s mouth. It had been shocking to taste at first but then… you found that it wasn’t too bad. Diluted with saliva, it was almost sweet, and you relished the way he enjoyed your tasting of it.
Your hands traveled up to the back of his head, gently scratching the prickly velvet of his undercut with one while the other pulled at the hair on his crown. His hiss into your mouth made you moan with another jump of your hips, and you felt him shift over you then; vaguely aware of the sound of him unceremoniously tugging down his pants before he took your hand from his crown and brought it between you.
The gasp that escaped you was sharp, your hand instinctively wrapping around his length as he guided you through stroking him. He was so hard, wet, and heavy, burning to the touch, but distant alarms were ringing about your ability to take him all. It scared you how much you wished to try.
His moan of relief was another keepsake, the sound of it so soft and pleading in your ear that you nearly sobbed from your desire. You couldn’t help but wonder what his face looked like, making a sound like that, and found yourself jealous of the skin of your neck he was hiding in. You stayed like this for a moment, his hand leaving you to work on its own as he cradled the opposite side of your head to lick and kiss your neck between gasps and moans. With a final nip to your skin Alastor pulled back, the mattress dipping as he put all of his weight onto his forearm to the right of your head as he adjusted himself.
“Don’t close your eyes,” was all he said before pressing into you, the tip of his cock already threatening to overwhelm you as it teased your entrance.
It was not an easy task, your eyebrows drawing together in such a way that it nearly blurred your vision. You whined between closed lips, doing your best to breathe through the sweet stretch of him finally entering you. Despite his direction, he didn’t seem to be doing much better; sweat beading on his forehead over furrowed brows, kiss-swollen mouth open with panting breaths. Flushed cheeks. Even in the state he had reduced you to, you were trying to sear the image of his lust-strained face into your psyche.
He was rocking his hips slowly, allowing you to adjust to him with each little thrust as your arousal coated him, easing his advance; breathy moans collecting between you in puffs of steam, joining the two of you together in all the places you weren’t touching.
All the while, your eyes were locked on each other. Had anyone else ever seen his the way they were now and found them beautiful instead of horrifying? You moaned as you stared at him; taking in his large, elegant antlers and sweat-damp hair, reminding you of the bedhead you had seen the other morning. His handsome and sinister face. He could easily tear you to shreds — and in a certain way, he was — but you were overwhelmed at the amount of care he had shown you so far, even with his earlier warning.
His thrusts were building in sharpness, parting you with a tantalizing push-and-pull until he finally bottomed out with a growl. You cried out from the fullness he gave you, already twitching around him despite his stillness as he gave you both a moment to try and catch your breath.
Alastor peppered your face with kisses and licks as you relaxed into him, testing you with a shallow thrust that had you biting down on your lip. Another. Another. Another. Until your mouth was hanging open, your hands traveling up to hold onto his triceps in your need for stability and to keep him close. Suddenly you felt him leave you completely, not even able to process the emptiness before he slammed back into you with a harsh grunt that made you squeal; writhing as he pressed up into your cervix.
He must have really enjoyed that, because he did it again. And again. And again. Settling into an excruciatingly blissful pace, his hard length massaging knots out of your body you didn’t know where there. Your legs instinctively hooked around him, nails digging into the flesh of his arms as you gasped and whined.
“So — ah..! Good… Alastorrr…!”
“Fuck!” he hissed between gritted teeth as your hips bucked, brows knit tight as he shook his head as if to clear a fog.
You didn’t know he was actually trying to keep something at bay, the additional inch of growth in his antlers lost on you in your current state.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
Alastor’s hips stuttered for a moment before muscle memory guided him back to rhythm, desperate to regain the bliss that was torn from him. It had been a close call, but he managed to keep the switch from happening. Though the monster inside was still there, clawing at him just below the surface.
He felt as your hands move from their place on his triceps (which he had quite enjoyed) to settle on his chest, your fingers delicately tracing his scar. The line wasn’t steady though, perforated by the impact of his thrusts, which you were handling with a surprising welcomeness.
It was almost…
There it was again, lying in wait; that ravenous, goading shadow roiling inside of him.
Take the risk…
Could he, though? Composing himself was practically second-nature, after all…
Say it!
Alastor exhaled, somewhere between a growl and a sigh. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” He allowed himself to relish the sound of your cry and the blissed out look on your face, which in turn provided a moment to steel himself before continuing, “I didn’t think you’d be this greedy.”
“Fuuuck…! Alast — oh my god…!”
A fresh wave of your arousal flooded over him as you desperately rolled your hips to meet him, but the intention had been to make you climax — and judging by the way you were spasming around him, you were close. Not drive him to his own at the sight of your glowing eyes, just as they had that day in the alley.
He had miscalculated.
With an agonizing force of will he pulled out of you, harsh breaths straining his lungs as he got off the bed to hastily remove his pants and shoes. He groaned through the ripple of adrenaline that was tearing through him, heartbeat pounding in his ears like a drum, the feeling of it causing his hair to stand on edge. Fuck. He wouldn’t be able to hold it off… not this time.
“What’s wrong?” Despite the question, your voice was still so thick with lust that it made his back hunch over.
It was taking all he had not to wrap his arms around himself in what he knew would be a useless attempt at containment. Even breathing was painful. The air saturated with the smell of sweat and sex and Valentino’s goddamn pheromones!
I really am going to kill that son of a bitch!
“Alastor…?”
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
Burning at the stake.
It had been a good way to put it.
He had been burning you alive before dousing you with ice.
What had gotten into him? What had gotten into you? No one had ever said something like that to you before and received anything but a slap in the face. Greedy… The word made your heart stutter, some of the blood from the lower half of your body traveling back up to your face. Was it true?
Embarrassment was beginning to sober you up. Had you gone too far? It seemed strange that you had, considering the words came from his mouth and not yours. Fuck, all of this had started because of him. How else had he wanted you to react? Or was he ashamed of himself?
Was he regretting this already?
“What’s wrong?”
You watched as his back arched up like a spooked cat, the force of his breathing revealing the ribs and notches of spine under the skin. He looked like he was in pain… Maybe the scar on his chest wasn’t as healed as it seemed? You climbed off the bed and made a timid approach.
“Alastor…?”
He flinched at the touch of your hand with a hiss, the shock of his reaction making you trip over yourself and fall back onto the bed. He kept his back to you when he spoke next, the absence of his filter making you shiver in pleasure and worry.
“You remember what I told you earlier, yes?”
I don’t have the capacity for gentleness today.
How could you not remember that?
“I do,” you answered, just above a whisper.
He straightened himself then, still turned away from you and managing to look regal despite his trembling. “I need you on all fours… and you must promise not to turn around. Do you understand?”
It was a question that didn’t leave room for any response other than yes. So you just positioned yourself on the bed, facing your headboard and gathered the pillows there underneath you for support. You had just finished settling when you felt his weight dip the mattress behind you, heart in your throat as he ran his nails down your spine before slipping his fingers into you.
You both sighed as he pumped you, filling the room with that familiar lewd sound between breaths. Stoking the embers of your stolen orgasm with every drag, until he removed them completely. You whined at his absence, the tightness in your belly teetering somewhere between pleasure and pain as you heard him shudder through stroking himself. His free hand resting now on your hip.
“Don’t get comfortable. If you cum facing away from me I’ll never touch you again.” His voice was tight with effort, the filter over it harsh and pocketed as he adjusted himself behind you, the grip of his hand on your left hip promising to bruise.
To your shame, the threat alone almost made you, a graceless moan tumbling out from your chest as you barely managed to nod your head in confirmation; your cunt flexing around the words echoing in your mind. The obscene sight of it drew out a sound from Alastor that could only be described as animalistic, earning the plump skin of your hip a few punctures as he thrust into you, bottoming out.
It was a brutal pace, his cock nearly leaving you with every thrust before plunging back in. He still had one hand on your hip while the other grabbed your shoulder, the slapping sound of your skin meeting quickly overpowering the gasps and moans falling from your mouths.
“Haahhh… nnghh…! …fuck!”
“Alastor…”
You felt him twitch inside of you at the sound of this name before he practically shouted, “Again…!”
The blush burned down from your face into your chest, but you complied and whined his name again. And again. Until it seemed to be the only word you knew.
“Ohhh, fuuuck…,” he hissed, followed quickly by a snarl.
You could’ve sworn you heard fabric tearing before a green glow reflected off the lacquered wood of your headboard. Alastor’s huge silhouette taking shape as it intensified; invoking the image of a nightmarish spider more than the deer demon you knew. You closed your eyes and buried your face in the pillows you had gathered, refusing to turn around despite your instinct to do so. And even through the fear, you still felt your orgasm building, the battle to keep it at bay quickly turning against your favor.
“Alastor… I… I can’t… I—”
The words were stolen as he suddenly bit into your shoulder, his mouth so wide you felt his teeth sink in from shoulder blade to collarbone. You screamed into the pillows as his hips stuttered, until there was a final thrust so deep it would have pained you if it weren’t for your throbbing shoulder. His seed spilled out hot and thick, fueling the aching fullness inside you as he grunted into your flesh; teeth still latched to you as if making a primal claim.
Hot tears fell down your face as he rode out his orgasm behind you, unsure if they were caused by the savage bite to your bruised shoulder or lament over the deprivation of seeing his face. But you had done as you were told, managing not to turn around or climax. The bite he was now nursing with licks and sucks and kisses providing plenty of distraction.
Almost too much…
As he tried to catch his breath, you could feel him shrinking behind you as he pulled out, his slick torso laying flat against your back as he lapped up the blood dribbling from the bite. And in between his kisses that traveled from your shoulder to your tear-stained face, his hands were petting you with such a tenderness it only wrought more tears.
His soothing whispers of shhh, I know, I’m sorry, I’ve got you, I’m sorry ringing in your ears as he brought you to lie down, cradling you to him as he caressed your face with his hands that inflicted such pain* and comfort… protection.
For what seemed like hours, the two of you laid in silence, looking into each other’s eyes as his thumb stroked your cheek. Until finally you buried your face into his chest, hands over his heart.
And slipped into shadow.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
*to others lol
ps: phew! we fucking made it y’all… i truly hope it was worth the wait. but i do want to announce here that i will be taking a little break. i know this one was already late, but it kinda took a piece of my soul lmao since we only have two more chapters i need to make sure i have all my ducks lined up to wrap this with a pretty little bow. thank you for your patience and love, i really do appreciate you. and i’ll see you on may 5th 💖
tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco, @redfoxwritesstuff, @chibistar45, @kaylopolis, @cutiebimbo, @lousypotatoes, @rfox1998, @cosmic-lavender
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fan fiction#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor smut#hazbin hotel smut#slow burn#alastor slow burn#song fic#if i can't have love i want power#love and power#x reader#alastor the radio demon#the radio demon#alastor x reader slow burn
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Hi DJ! If you’re still doing the ficlet requests, can I get 24 (cuddles of reassurance) with Wolffe? Maybe fem!reader is having a hard time with sex and feels embarrassed/overwhelmed? (If that’s too explicit/uncomy feel free to ignore :))
Just a Little Bit More
A/N: Thank you so much for this request, Alli! I’ve actually been wanting to write a fic like this for a while. I feel like so much of the smut we see in fanfiction AND in published fiction/media in general is so idealized that even when it has elements of realism, it can present a distorted idea of what sex and intimacy can really be like. I’m certainly guilty of writing somewhat idealized smut, though I do try to maintain at least some semblance of realism (unless Sev is involved; all bets are off with that man). While there’s nothing wrong with having that fantasy, I think it’s healthy and important to also show the reality that it isn’t always easy or flawless, even with a caring, experienced partner who takes our pleasure seriously and does everything “right.”
Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader (Fem; has hair)
Rating: M (mature content intended for readers 18+; minors DNI)
Wordcount: 3.3K of straight smut with some cuddles
Warnings and tags: cuddles; hurt comfort; language; SMUT; oral sex; PIV; nipple play; light/playful spanking; body worship; sex toys; fingering; exhibitionism; voyeurism; creampie; difficulty with orgasm. AKA, the return of SMUTKEA.
Summary: Wolffe is the best you’ve ever had. That doesn’t mean it’s always perfect.
Suggested Listening:
This fic smells like: Fruit de La Créativité by Grès (raspberry & leather)
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Wolffe gazed up into your eyes as you rolled your hips slowly, searching for the perfect angle. You knew you could find it: you’d done it before, countless times. His strong, warm hands glided up your thighs to your hips, pulling you closer, thrusting deeper, guiding you closer and closer to your pleasure. You could feel it building inside you, the tension gathering slowly.
Too slowly.
He smoothed one hand up your side, grazing along your rib cage until he cupped your breast, circling your nipple with his thumb. He knew exactly how much pressure you liked, and the way he touched you was perfect.
God, he’s so hot. Just focus on how hot he is.
Sweat glistened on your skin. The room hadn’t been this hot when he’d pulled you into bed, but after an hour and a half of vigorous activity, you were both slick with perspiration, saliva, arousal, and lube. He’d mapped your body with kisses, gliding his lips and tongue across your skin as he devoured you, bringing you right to the edge until you begged him to fuck you.
You’d wrapped your legs around his waist as he eased into you, a tormented groan rumbling from his lips as he felt your heat envelope him. Gods, he felt amazing, and when he started to move, you knew it would only be a matter of minutes before you came.
It took longer than you expected, and after a while, you realized something needed to change.
“Take me from behind,” you’d murmured, knowing how much he loved the way your ass pressed into his hips in that position.
“God, yes,” he’d replied, pulling out and rolling you over with enthusiasm.
You loved the way he handled you in bed. He was so fucking strong. He could toss you around so easily—it was hot as hell, but the best thing about it was the care he took to make sure you were comfortable and he didn’t accidentally hurt you. He lifted your hips up and positioned you exactly the way he wanted you. You heard a small click as he closed the bottle of lube, and then you felt his slickened fingers glide over your cunt as he ensured you were ready to take him from the new angle.
“Maker, that ass is gorgeous,” he said, squeezing your cheeks before giving you a playful smack.
Your mischievous giggle turned into a breathless moan as he sank into you, reaching deeper, stretching you wider, as his hand slid down your body to tease your clit. You loved the way he touched you, the way he caged you in with his body, making you feel incredibly safe and protected. And of course, you loved his cock. He knew exactly how to use it to ensure he gave you as much pleasure as he took—or more.
And still, your orgasm remained tantalizingly just out of reach. He shifted, and for a moment, his body rested heavily on you before he resumed his rhythm.
He’s getting tired. Fuck. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up. I need to give him a break.
“Want me to be on top?” you offered, hoping that yet another angle would be the one that finally pushed you past whatever mental block was keeping you from your release.
He paused, his hands resting on your hips. “Is that what you want?”
“Sure,” you replied. “If you do?��
He trailed his fingers down your spine before slowly withdrawing from your body. You turned to watch as he rolled onto his back and kicked the blankets off the bed. He reached for you with that sexy smirk that you loved so much, and you knew without question that he still wanted you.
He’s such a good man. Gods, he deserves the world.
“Hop on, darlin’,” he invited.
You crawled toward him with a smile, pausing a moment to kneel between his thighs. You traced your fingertips up his legs and over his balls, then ghosted a line up the underside of his cock. You glanced up to see his eyes fixed on you with an intense expression. Holding his gaze, you dropped lower and flicked your tongue over his tip, then slid his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue over him. You could taste yourself on his skin—salty, tangy, unspeakably erotic. His hips flexed beneath you, and you heard his breath grow ragged.
He caressed your head gently, stroking his hand over your hair and jaw before coming to rest on your shoulders.
“Not gonna last if you keep that up,” he said quietly. “Come up here.”
You gave him one last defiant, flirtatious little suck before you released him, then you began to crawl up to him, kissing a trail up his abdomen and chest. You straddled his hips, kissing and licking your way up his throat, and as you reached his lips, you whispered, “You taste like pussy.”
“Then I must be delicious,” he murmured, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and pulling you into a passionate kiss.
His tongue slid into your mouth as his cock thrust into your cunt, and for a moment you were overwhelmed with the sensations of him filling you. A fresh wave of arousal had flooded you as you’d pleasured him with your mouth, and he slipped into you easily, rocking into you with his powerful thighs. You braced your fists against the mattress on either side of his head, pressing down to meet his thrusts as you rode him hard and fast, chasing your pleasure with a desperation that started to border on frantic as release continued to elude you.
“Gonna make you come so hard,” he whispered. “And then I’m gonna fill you up. You feel so goddamn good. Can’t wait to feel you come around my cock.”
I’m trying, damn it!
“You feel incredible,” you replied breathlessly, and it was true, so why was this so kriffing difficult?
Your hips were starting to get sore from how long you’d been at it, so you shifted positions, bringing your knees higher and setting a slower pace to try to buy yourself enough time that you’d have the energy to make it to the finish line. Wolffe adjusted instantly, not even needing a verbal cue to understand the message your body sent. You found the angle that pressed his cock against the perfect place inside you, and you focused on trying to get as much stimulation there as you possibly could, cutting out all extraneous movement.
The longer it took, the more anxious and desperate you became. You tried to shut down the voice in your head that whispered, “He’s getting bored,” because you knew it was a lie. All you had to do was look into his beautiful, mismatched eyes to see how much he wanted you. And you were so close. So fucking close, if you could just get out of your own head long enough to let go.
You traced your fingertips across his cheekbone and along his jaw, grazing your thumb across his lips. You pressed gently, parting his lips to brush your thumb against his tongue, and then you leaned down and kissed him deeply, trying to lose yourself in the sensation of his lips and tongue against your own.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as you broke from the kiss and returned your hand to brace against the mattress. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”
Please stop talking. You couldn’t say it out loud; what kind of an asshole says something like that in response to a compliment?
“You’re so sexy,” you whispered instead. “You’re amazing at this.”
It was true; he was amazing. Unquestionably the best you’d ever had. In the time you’d been together, he’d learned your body completely, identifying every spot that made you shiver, testing different approaches until he knew exactly how and where you liked to be touched, kissed, caressed. He knew where to use his teeth, and where to use his breath; he knew when you wanted him to be tender, and when you craved roughness.
He knew you.
He knew you better than anyone ever had, and that made your current predicament even more maddening. Because sometimes it was easy. Sometimes you came so fast that your orgasm surprised both of you. But most of the time, it took more work. A lot more. And sometimes, like this one, you would get so close to the edge that you were only seconds away, only to feel the wave of pleasure ebb and be replaced with frustration and exhaustion.
Please, please, please. Just a little bit more.
Your wrists ached. Your knuckles were raw from grinding them into the sheets. You shifted your weight and lifted one hand off the mattress, stretching your fingers and trying to get the blood flowing to them. He glanced at your hand, then back up into your eyes.
“What can I do?” he asked softly.
“Just… keep going,” you said desperately. “I’m so close—I’m so fucking close, and I just can’t—I can’t—”
Abrupt tears stung your eyes, and you buried your face against his neck to hide them, kissing his chest to try to distract him from your distress.
He wrapped his arms around your body, still rocking into you at the pace you’d set. “Do you want to take a break?”
“No, I want you to come,” you snapped, disappointment sharpening your tone more than you intended.
He stilled immediately. You felt his hand slide up your back to stroke your hair softly.
“Hey,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “Look at me.”
You shook your head and burrowed your face obstinately into the nook where his neck met his shoulder.
“Talk to me, little one,” he urged. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
The dam cracked and then burst.
“I’m so fucking tired,” you sobbed. “And I can tell you’re getting tired, and I just want it to be good for you, and every time I think I’m getting there, I lose it!”
Mortification swept through you that you were making a scene during such an intimate moment, and you tried to stifle your sobs, but it was too late. You felt him go soft inside you, and then he slipped from your body.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to ruin it for you.”
His arms tightened around you, and he rolled the both of you onto your sides, pulling you close against his body. “You didn’t ruin anything.”
Holding you tightly with one arm, he began to run his hand lightly over your back, comforting you with his touch as he kissed your forehead.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” he repeated. “You just got tired. It’s all right, love. It happens.”
“It’s so frustrating,” you confessed. “So many times, I thought I was there, and then something would distract me, and it was just gone.”
“Was it something I did?” he asked.
“No, of course not. It was just… I don’t know. A noise? Or a weird thought that popped into my head at a bad time?” You paused, feeling a little guilty as you remembered that, in fact, you had gotten annoyed at an ill-timed remark from him. “And then the longer it took, the more it stressed me out about how long it was taking, until I was stressing so much about it that that’s all I could think about.”
He moved his hand to your shoulder and began to glide it up and down your arm in long, languid strokes. “Why were you worried about taking too long?”
You paused, unaccountably hesitant to admit the truth. He waited patiently, still caressing your arm, until at last you replied, “I was worried you were getting tired. Or bored. Or—I don’t know…”
His hand stilled in its progress, then slid around your back as he pulled you even closer to him. “I would never get bored with you.”
“But—”
“I love you,” he cut you off firmly. “I love being with you. I love fuckin’ you. You’re gorgeous, and sexy, and kriffin’ amazing in the sack. Do you have any idea how lucky I am? Most men only dream of finding a girl like you, but I got you for real. How the hell would I ever be stupid enough to get bored with someone as goddamn perfect as you?”
You didn’t know what to say. You lay in his arms, clinging tightly to him as the tears finally stopped trickling from your eyes. You shuddered quietly.
“Yeah?” you asked in a tiny whisper.
He rolled you onto your back and moved to lie on top of you so he could look into your eyes.
“Yeah,” he replied.
You swallowed. “I love you, too, you know.”
“I know,” he said with a charming smirk.
He pressed his lips to your sternum as his hand slid lazily up your body to play with your breast. The weight of his body pressed you down into the soft mattress as you cradled his chest between your thighs. You took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, releasing the guilt and stress and self-recrimination you’d built up in your body.
He kissed you again, and again, then he began to work his way across your chest until he drew your nipple into his mouth, brushing his tongue over your skin as he sucked gently, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You felt a spark of renewed arousal, but with it came a surge of anxiety that rose insistently in your mind.
“Wolffe,” you whispered. “I don’t know if I can. I really am exhausted.”
He looked up at you as he continued to tease your breast. At last, he released your nipple from his lips, giving you a devilish smile.
“What if we tried something else?”
You couldn’t help the way your lips curved into an answering smile when he looked at you like that. “What did you have in mind?”
He pushed himself up off of you and leaned over to rummage through your nightstand until he retrieved a vibrator—the one you’d once jokingly called “Old Faithful” for its uncanny ability to get you off like clockwork.
“I want you to fuck yourself with this,” he said, his voice dropping to a gravelly pitch. “I want to watch you make yourself come.”
Your breath stuttered to a halt, your eyes widening and your heart beginning to pound at the idea. Your gaze flicked from the toy to his eyes and back again.
“Wh—what about you?” you stammered.
“Don’t you worry about me,” he replied. He switched on the vibrator and traced it down your abdomen, making you twitch as its buzz tickled your skin. “Will you?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, taking the toy from him. “How do you want me?”
“Whatever way works best for you.”
You thought about trying to pose for him, to put on a show, but you knew instinctively that wasn’t what he was after. If he’d wanted to watch a counterfeit, staged orgasm, he would have just found a holoporn. No. He wanted the real thing. He wanted to see your genuine pleasure.
“All right,” you whispered.
You took the toy from him, and he moved off of your body to lie next to you, observing you closely. You adjusted the settings to your preferred speed and pattern, then took a deep breath and began.
The instant you touched the vibrator to your clit, your entire body tensed, and you gasped quietly. You glanced at Wolffe and found his gaze riveted to your pussy, his one good pupil dilated so wide you could barely see the amber ring of his iris around its inky depths. You felt a little self-conscious until you saw the way his lips parted slightly as his breath became heavy.
You pushed yourself back into the pillow and closed your eyes as you adjusted the angle of the toy, pressing it exactly as you needed it. With your free hand, you began to play with your breast, caressing and squeezing and rolling your nipple between your fingertips. You felt the warmth of his hand as it settled onto your leg and then slid up your thigh. Your opposite leg curled up to brace your foot against the bed, opening your stance wider as you moved the vibrator exactly the way you needed it.
“Fuck,” he rasped hoarsely, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. His fingers grazed lightly over your pussy, but quickly withdrew.
“You can touch me,” you gasped.
He didn’t move immediately, and you continued to work yourself closer and closer to your orgasm, feeling the tension gather in your body and begin to tighten in on your center. Then his fingertips brushed over your cunt again, and you felt his lips and tongue descend on your hip. He didn’t try to take control, just touched you softly, kissing and licking and watching as you played with yourself.
You adjusted your position again, bringing your leg against his body, and you felt his slick, rigid cock press hard against you. You whimpered, so turned on you couldn’t even form words, and in response, he ground his erection against you. He kissed across your pelvis until he reached your belly, pressing his face into you.
“I’m so close,” you panted.
“Kriff, me too,” he growled.
His fingertip grazed into you, and your body jerked as you gasped sharply. He froze, and without thinking, you moved your hand away from your breast to grab his wrist and push him deeper. With an urgent grunt, he began to move his finger, stroking exactly where he knew you needed him.
Abruptly, your hips arched off the bed, and you let out an inhuman wail. If your brain had been functioning, you might have also heard Wolffe’s rough groan, but at the moment, you were aware of nothing but blinding, shattering pleasure as your body finally found the release it had been denied for so many hours. You jerked the vibrator away as the intensity suddenly became too much, and your body convulsed again and again until at last you collapsed onto the bed, utterly spent.
Wolffe covered you with frantic kisses, crawling up your body until he reached your face. His body hovered over you as his tongue brushed between your lips and flooded your mouth with his taste. Your arms wrapped around his torso as your legs tightened around his hips, and you pulled him into you. His cock slid easily, and he thrust hard and fast, fucking you through the last tremors of your orgasm.
He came within seconds, flooding you with heat as he thrust hard, one last time, burying his cock as deep as he could inside your body. He stayed there, his entire body taut, until at last he exhaled a hard breath and relaxed onto you. His lips broke away from yours, and he rested his forehead against the pillow next to your head.
“Fuck,” he panted, the word hot against your ear. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”
You stroked your hands up and down his back, digging your nails lightly into his skin. He groaned and slumped heavily against your body. You loved the weight of him on top of you, but before long, you began to wheeze quietly as you struggled to draw breath. He heard the shift and immediately rolled off of you, pulling you against himself as he came to rest on the bed.
“Thank you,” you whispered as you pressed your lips to his chest.
He laughed quietly. “Thank you. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“Worth the wait?” you asked.
“Worth everything,” he murmured, drawing you even closer. “Everything, and more. You always have been.”
---
Want to request a ficlet? Check out this list of prompts!Want more Wolffe? Here’s a tiny little fluffy ficlet.
Taglist:
@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49
@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella
@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream
@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @marierg @idontgetanysleep
@moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine
@multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam
@skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist
@cw80831 @kimiheartblade @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal
@reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose
@totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell @yve-barr
@dangraccoon @transactivecybermemory @etod
#commander wolffe#commander wolffe x reader#wolffe x reader#star wars#the clone wars#fem reader#x reader#dystopicjumpsuit writes#flashing gif
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pov: you go to one of their gigs
old ramble written last year.
warning: 18+. follows no timeline. not proofread, so grammatical errors and typos.
masterlist here.
not. this. again.
no matter how fucking hard you tried to keep it together, you somehow always found yourself crying over the same idiot, tall boy. for nearly three years now, you’d tried to shake off your feelings for george but at this point it honestly seemed impossible. you always fell for his attention even though you knew it was a sick, toxic cycle. sigh. you couldn't do this to yourself anymore.
it was mid october. you were at a venue in london waiting for the band to take the stage. george had asked (well, more like begged actually) over the phone for you to come to their gig that night even though you were drained and exhausted. "please. i miss you." you didn't know if his plea was sincere or not, but it made your heart beat faster. you hated to admit you missed him, too.
"fine, but don't count on me for anything after." you had worked 12 consecutive shifts to stash away some money as you wanted to do some travelling around europe. you were in your early 20's. you were supposed to have fun, get lost in random cities, take drugs with strangers, all of those things you saw on films and tv. while you loved london, you wanted to visit some places with a bit more colour to them and try to forget about him for at least a few weeks or so. it wasn't too much to ask for, right?
after he convinced you to show up, you figured you might as well try to make the most of your night out. you stumbled upon him and ross when they were out for a quick smoke, george quick to plant a kiss on your cheek followed by a tight embrace that lingered longer than expected. he was warm and, to your dismay, it made you feel warm inside, too. it seemed that every chance he got, he would touch you in some way, whether a brush of your arm, a hand on your lower back, a gentle grip on your hip. you tried to not think much of it knowing you couldn't afford to get tangled up in this mess all over again. you loved him (to some extent) but the sleepless nights and ongoing fights were not worth it anymore.
when the opening band finished, you made your way to the front to watch them perform from a closer spot. you had attended many of their gigs at this point and you genuinely fell in love with their music, albeit you wouldn't tell them directly. you had too much pride for such confession.
the gig started, the fangirl in you waking up and getting excited to sing along, forgetting about your exhaustion and lack of sleep. matty noticed you, giving a small wave and blowing a kiss in your direction before diving into the next song. while george was the one who unfortunately held your heart, you had a soft spot for the front boy, even having made out with him several times before just for the hell of it. alcohol and weed might have been involved, though...
after a few more songs, you couldn't help but notice the way george effortlessly played on stage, arms moving in calculated motions, messy hair swaying from side to side. he would look straight at you, wink and bite his bottom lip, which just made you laugh. he hadn't changed one bit. you remembered him doing this same routine at your place whenever he craved your attention. and george did it because he knew it worked like a charm. you had to admit it felt nice to have his focus on you, making you wonder if maybe, just maybe, the two of you could work it out again.
when the show ended and the boys went backstage, you managed to sneak yourself back there after 20 minutes or so, in hopes of finding them and saying your goodbyes. you kept opening every door to check if it was their dressing room, but you had no luck for a while.
you twisted another handle, opening the door and your heart sank to your stomach, making you feel instantly sick. in front of you happened to be your dear drummer with another girl's head between his legs. you were not quite sure which words left your lips, but they must've been loud enough for the both of them to turn around and take notice of you. this couldn't be happening. not. again.
you shut the door and quickly walked through the corridor, trying to find the nearest exit to get some fresh air in your lungs. not again, not again is all you could repeat in your head. you couldn't believe that somewhere deep inside your gut, you hoped that this could be the time that george and you kissed once more and went back to your flat together. why did you even think that would happen? and most importantly, why did you even want it to happen? not. again.
"fuck. i'm—i'm sorry." you were staring down at the floor which made you bump into someone. "i'm sorry." you kept apologizing as you made an effort to step away without looking up. you knew there were tears streaming down your face and didn't want anyone to see the mess you were at that moment. but you felt a tight grip on your arm and heard a familiar, warm voice call your name.
this is what finally made you turn around. "i'm sorry, matty. i can't..." you tried to break free from his grasp but he continued to hold on. "what's going on, darling? are you okay?" there was genuine concern embracing his words which made you cry ever more. not right now for fuck's sake.
you looked away, embarrassed at your state and not wanting to admit to him (or yourself) why you were uncontrollably sobbing. "hey. what happened, what is—" his voice trailed off as someone else seemed to be hurrying in your direction, calling your name, too. an exasperated george now stood besides you, breathing heavily. from running or coming in that girl's mouth, you didn't want to know.
"i've been looking for you everywhere. i can explain that," he pointed behind him, "back there." he was still catching his breath and it made you feel sick once more, taking every ounce of control to not vomit at that very second. the colour drained from your face as you started to shake, the tips of your fingers and jaw numb from a dangerous mix of anger and anxiety. he tried to grab your hand but you instantly recoiled, not wanting him to be near you, let alone touch you. "george, don’t.”
you saw as he nervously ran his long fingers through his hair thinking of what to say next. nothing. no words that came out of his mouth could provide any comfort, you were sure of that. you walked away, still trying to find the damn exit out of this hellish place. fuck george. fuck him for always pulling you in so close only to break you into one million pieces.
you finally managed to step outside, feeling lightheaded, heart still pounding in your ears. you found a dimly lit patch of grass and sat down, doing your best to focus on the cold air against your skin to try and keep him out of your mind. you felt so stupid. why did you think tonight would be any different?
great. someone was walking towards you. you stood up to leave. “please talk to me.” you turned to look at him. “please.”
“what do you want me to say, matty?” your hands covered your face as you continued to cry, not caring anymore if he heard you. you felt him inch closer, eventually putting his arms around you, holding you. “why does he always do this to me? why do i always hold on to his every word hoping that things will change? that he will actually want me.”
you felt his grip tighten around your shoulders. “he’s not worth it. he’s my best mate and i care for him deeply, but he’s not worth it,” he whispered into your hair. “please trust me on this one.”
all you could do was wrap your arms around him, yearning to hold someone close, to make you feel like you were for once safe and loved.
#matty healy imagine#george daniel imagine#matty healy x reader#matty healy x you#george daniel x you#george daniel x reader#the 1975 fanfiction#the 1975 fanfic#matty#george#the 1975
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i accidentally posted it but i screenshotted it before i deleted it 😭😭 anyway it’s gonna be short and to the point bc i don’t know much about her still but im trying my best to find things about her 🫡
warning(s): cussing, smut
genre: smut
pairing(s): azzi fudd x fem!reader
not proofread ☹️
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“fuck!” you moaned as azzi stuck her tongue in you, you didn’t expect it. azzi was on her knees on the floor and you were on the bed propping yourself up on the bed with your elbows. she removed her tongue and added her fingers and licked and sucked on your clit, making you approach your orgasm faster than expected.
azzi was going faster the more you moaned, you tried to hold it in as long as possible but the ways he was fucking you nothing was staying in. “oh god, azzi, i’m cumming.” you told her in between moans, “go ahead.” she said in between your legs.
she helped you ride out your orgasm and got up off her knees after. you laid there trying to catch your breath, you looked up when you heard the sound of the strap being put on. when you looked up you seen azzi buckling the strap on, she looked fine as hell. her hair in a low bun, sports bra, and a pair of lacy black panties.
she was walking up to you with the strap on and you continued to admire her. “you’re so beautiful.” you told her while using your elbows to prop yourself up and admire her, she smiled at you and gave you a kiss, “thank you, you look beautiful too.”
she put her hands on your hips and lined herself up with your entrance, she squeezed your hips to let you know she was entering you. even thought she told you she was going to enter you didn’t expect for it to be so hard. you moaned in pleasure and a little bit of pain. she continued the harshness but added more speed every few seconds, you were a moaning mess and just a mess in general. you had tears in your eyes and some down your face and you started to sweat a little.
“oh, fuck.. azzi, i can’t take it anymore.” you told her, your voice a bit broken and gone. “yes you can, you’ve taken harsher.” she said sort of panting, you moaned instead of replying to her. “i need to cum, b-badly.” you told her while moaning uncontrollably. “hold it for a little longer.” she said. she thought it would be funny to press under your stomach above your pussy and you couldn’t hold it anymore, you cummed all over the strap. “why would you do that.” you while out of breath and smiling. “because i want to.” she smiled back, giving you a kiss.
==================================
sorry it’s so short and took so long to get out. anyway i hope you enjoyed, have good day/night, love you 💋💋
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Alright lets talk about THAT scene
Honestly I'm still processing all of it and I don't even know if this is even gonna be coherent or more like
This is long. LETS GO
So it's still very much up in the air as to whether that was really Hiyori or not because of the whole illusion thing that Father has going on in this domain but I'm going to assume this is actually her. It just seems kinda weird for Adachitoka to pull that and then go 'Haha SIKE! Jk!' in the next update. Like, if you're gonna pull a scene like that- you gotta commit to the bit ya know?
So let's assume it's all real. Cord snapped. Kapow. She's dead. Now what? God I wish I fucking knew because Adachitoka LOVE to throw curve balls at us so no matter what we predict it'll probably be wrong 🙃
But I think this might have something to do with it.
Kofuku was the one to originally tie the plaques together (uh oh) but then Ookunushi was the one to place them back and bless them with happiness. So you've got a disaster god dooming them but a god of fortune blessing them. Those poor plaques are so confused lol. But either way, Yato and Hiyori are bonded for life and that's an already pretty strong bond they've got. They're two idiots in love and call it silly and cliché but perhaps it's that bond that will save them.
Hiyori is a special case. She's a half-Ayakashi with ties to both the Near Shore and the Far-Shore and we have no idea what happens to someone like that when they die. Do they lose their memories? Will she forget Yato, Yukine, and everyone else from the Far Shore? Will she forget her name? Again, a tricky one but since she treads the lines between the two worlds and her soulmate is a god, maybe not. It could be possible that she retains all those Far Shore memories and forgets a lot of the Near. She remembers her name but can't recall her parents or friends faces.
(That then brings up the huge elephant in the room of what other shinki will think of that and then start to ponder their own deaths leading to the GGS (the likes of Daikoku, Bishamon and Ebisu's shinki etc) but let's just put that to one side for a minute. I can only have one panic at a time)
I think one thing is for certain at this point though. Noragami won't exactly have a happy ending. Either Hiyori somehow lives and Yato is forced to cut her ties and she forgets everything or she dies and permanently joins the Far Shore, leaving her life, ambitions, friends and family behind. And yeah, neither of those are good. But it looks like they're the only options. Now shoot me for this but I seem to lean towards the latter. I really hate endings where someone forgets the entire journey they just went on and it ends up in a sort of 'it was all a dream' ending. They just make me angry lol. Person has this amazing story and adventure and it ends with a literal I forgor meme? Lame. It's more impactful if both parties suffer 😈 (Why I always get more emotional watching the S2 finale of Doctor Who than the S4 finale. I hate that Donna had to forget everything to save her. But that's a completely different kettle of fish).
I went on a tangent there oops. ANYWAY. If we go down the route that Hiyori is dead then it seems like only two things can happen; she'll become a shinki or she'll be deified. She can't be dead dead I refuse to believe that 😤 Not only because she's my favourite character but I really can't see Adachitoka killing her off for good.
Now call me a hopeless romantic (and my Yatori brain going ding ding ding) but the immediate answer that came to mind when I saw this passage at the end of the chapter is love. Perhaps it'll be Hiyori's love for Yato (and Yukine of course) that will be the Deus ex machina that will ensure that she can come back and that she comes back with her memories in tact, maybe even bypassing the GGS. With that, she may be the secret weapon to destroying Father (did Ebisu and Take even destroy the shrine? Honestly can't remember). Whether that means Yato will name her and the three of them will completely whoop his ass or something else entirely, but I think that post-death Hiyori will be the final piece needed to end Trash Dad and the crisis on earth.
Horrific as it is, It would be fitting for her character to make that sacrifice. She's always been brave and selfless and if she knew that in order to save everyone she loves on earth and the rest of the population by fighting by Yato's side, even if that meant that she had to die, she'd do it.
Yes this isn't the perfect ending but there is no perfect ending. Hiyori has been doomed ever since she jumped in front of that bus.
#noragami#noragami spoilers#fucking hell that was longer than I expected#TLDR some power of love bullshit (affectionate) might save Hiyori in death and enable her to join forces with Yato to save the day#idk man my head still hurts and I don't know how everything is gonna be resolved in a satisfying way#I just really don't want it to end with her losing all her memories and this is the only other way it could go#anyway- *downs a bottle of vodka*
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Chronic pain Ashton actually means everything to me. This punk rock literally went through more awful shit before the age of ten than most people will deal with in their entire lives. And then they turned into a FUCKING rock.
Raised in an overpacked orphanage, given the same last name as everyone else as a strange unifier. These people aren’t family, but they do share a surname and a piece of their history. In the end though, Ashton’s just one small hungry face among dozens. Alone even when in the crowd.
When he woke up one day and his whole body felt Wrong, felt hard and rough, and calcified like they had spent too much time out in the cold without water, do you think he told anyone at first? Do you think anyone with the power to help would have even cared?
I wonder if it ever stopped feeling uncomfortable to them, or if there’s always this underlying sense that one wrong move will send cracks up their whole body.
Then they’re out, and they finally found people they could rely on, a family that cared about him, not because of obligation, but because he was like them, and because he had strength and skills they needed.
His new family is united by their insignificance, and determined to stick it to everyone whose greed hurts other people like them, the ones left behind, the nobodies. Ashton learns what it really means to fight and to bleed for the people you love. He learns to take his pain and his anger and pours it into protecting his family.
And then. The heist that changed everything. Broke into the wrong house, opened the wrong box, and suddenly… a whole new level of pain, beyond anything they’ve felt before. Broken memories. Flying backwards. Crashing through a window. Falling, falling, falling, then… black. Pain. Flashes of light, of noise. Pain. “He’s dead.” Laying on a stone path. “Just leave em.” Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain.
Milo’s voice. “C’mon, please wake up please, I don’t know what else to do…” and then… ice in their veins. Fireworks going off inside their head. And then… they black out again.
They come back slowly, and it’s not their senses that come back first. The first thing that tells him he’s awake is a shooting pain all up and down his arm, branching like cracks through stone. It feels as bad as the little voice in the back of his mind always told him it would. His whole left side feels… shattered. Broken. He’s certain that when he opens his eyes, he’ll see pieces of himself lying around him.
A flash, as though someone fired a blowtorch at close range toward his head. Another, slightly to the right of the first. And now that they’re aware of it, they can’t stop feeling it. It’s like the worst cluster headache they’ve ever felt, multiplied by a dozen by the burn of each pulse of energy.
Well, if he’s feeling pain, that probably means he’s not dead. They blink open their eyes and move to stand. His arm is still there, so that’s good. They begin to use it to push themself up…
*Crack*
They feel the powerful release of pressure more than they hear it. It travels from their shoulder all the way down to the tips of their fingers and then back.
“Gah, FUCKING SHIT.” They collapse back down to the table they were lying on.
“Ashton? Ashton! You’re awake! Don’t move, don’t move, you’re safe, you’re okay!”
It’s only now that they look around and realize where they are. Their vision feels… off somehow, but they can see it now. Milo’s workshop. They’ve cleared their worktable, and he’s lying on top of it. He turns his head to see where their voice is coming from and… FUCK.
“Don’t… don’t move too much. You’re uhh… you’re hurt real bad.” Milo rushes over from wherever they were and hovers behind his head. “How are… how do you feel?”
“Like hot fucking garbage. What… what the fuck happened to me? Fuck, that hurts.”
“The last job it went… bad. Real bad. You took… you took a pretty big fall, all the way from the top of the mansion.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“Alright, well. Let’s check out the fucking damage.”
“No Ashton wait, you need to rest, lay back down…”
They ignore them as they push themself up again… fuck that hurts, but at least they know to expect it this time. They cautiously put their weight on their right foot, then their left. A similar crack as before sends pain up their leg to their hip, and they buckle, grabbing their head as it sparks again.
“Ashton please wait. Please, just take a second to… to catch your breath, at least…”
“Fuck. No. I’m fine, I’m good, I can fucking do this.”
He stumbles over to a big, shiny sheet of metal that Milo’s got hung up for some project or other, and looks at his warped reflection.
“Milo… what the fuck.”
“I… I… I did everything I could, but I’m not a medic, Ashton. I work with metal though, and… and with stone, sometimes, so… I melted down the gold we made on our last job and um… I sealed the cracks. In your skin, I mean. I had no clue if it would work; I didn’t even know if your skin works like normal stone, but I didn’t know what else to do.”
Ashton holds up their hand to their face. Zigzagging along the cracks in his skin, he sees gold, sealing the stone of his flesh back together. He runs the fingers of his other hand up his arm. It’s… huh. They’re used to their skin feeling… alien. Wrong. Not their own. But this is… this one’s new.
Even as he’s thinking that, another flash goes off in his skull, and this time, he sees it in his reflection. “What the fuck…”
They lean close, and when another spark lights up, he can see… through his own head. What the fuck, he can see his brain. It’s distorted, though they can’t tell if that’s because of the imperfections in the metal or because of what Milo used to patch them up.
“Yeah that… that I was less sure of. There was… a hole smashed in your head, Ashton. Too big to fill in with gold. Eventually I was able to fill it in and cover it up with slag glass - I had to do the same thing with your eye.”
And as soon as they say that, Ashton can pin down what’s wrong with their vision. The depth of everything feels wrong, and he can’t see anything on his left side.
“…fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck Milo, you… you saved my life. I… wait. What the fuck happened to the others.”
Milo flinches, and Ashton prepares for the worst. “They… they all ran. Out of the city. We were seen, and…”
“And they figured I wouldn’t fucking make it anyway. Right. So why the fuck are you still here?”
“Ashton I… I wasn’t just going to leave you. Not while there was still a chance to save you.”
They don’t know what to say to that. And so, they pull their shit together, and as soon as they’re confident they won’t collapse on the way, they go back to Hexum’s. He takes on the debt that everyone else was too smart to stay for. He doesn’t tell her about Milo.
They take on easy jobs for a while. They recover, as much as they can. Eventually, it becomes pretty obvious that this… these golden cracks, the hole in their head, the fireworks inside their fucking skull… this is just how things are now.
So he does what he did before. He fucking adjusts. He’d had to get used to discomfort and pain of stone skin; now these harsh cracks become a part of that alien background sensation. The fireworks go off when he gets in a fight, so they learn to channel that sharp pain into every swing of their hammer. This new pain joins the rest in the background noise of his life.
And so, just like he always does, he keeps fucking going. They wear their scars proudly, on display for everyone. They hold their head, cracks and all, high. They say look at me. I’ve already been the collateral damage of an uncontrolled elemental ritual. I’ve been thrown backwards out of a tower and left for dead. You think you scare me? Get in line. I’ve seen shit that would scare your nightmares. You think you’re stronger than me? Two seconds in my body would have you curled up in a ball on the floor. You wanna fuck with me? Just don’t.
#ashton greymoore#critical role#critical role c3#bells hells#cr#chronic pain ashton means everything to me#listen I didn’t know what I was gonna write before I started writing#this got longer than I expected#sorry???#I just needed a chronic pain character real bad rn#I love them sm#funky little fucked up punk rock
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Oh right a PSA
If you are running a discord RP server and single someone out because they "are holding everyone back" because of IRL things such as work, fun events that friends invited you to go to, or anything else. Thats called being a fuckin' dick and toxic a-hole. Just cause you wanna finish something doesn't mean that everyone else has to fall in line for your thing that can move your plot forward. Only move your little mission events forward when everyone else has TIME.
#[A Service Announcement Sponsored By Flappy The Bird- RP PSA]#RP PSA#//No joke this happened to me last YEAR#//and I was singled out because#//1. I had a work meeting that lasted a lot longer than I was expecting#//2. The server owner PINGED ME while I was on the FINAL hour of my work day.#//3. They had the AUDACITY to tell me I was holding everyone up when I was openly free after 2:00 PM On Saturday and shit.#//Like how the FUCK are you just gonna come at me with that ol' bullshit dawg.#//If you cant respect IRL then you sure as hell have lost me.
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hmm okay new years resolutions
watch more foreign-language films
get new piercing (MAYBE)
expand weird earring collection
pack more lunches for college/work i am SO sick of those gross cold wraps they provide that i can't even heat up
go to gym more often
collect participant data for my thesis
eat at least one fruit a day. smoothies are also acceptable
fix my fucked up sleep schedule. we WILL do it it is about fucking time
read more nonfiction
draw ref sheets for all my ocs (the most improbable one out of all of these but i'm going to dream big. if it doesn't happen whatever)
make more connections with professors in my program
lez out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
#வார்த்தைகள்#woah longer than i expected but good balance of Responsible and Fun i think 😁#so serious about those cold wraps by the way theyre slimy as HELL i fucking HATE them
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god help me i'm going insane about dickson xenoblade again
#this is what i get for thinking about lord of the rings too hard this week (specifically denethor / gríma / saruman and the like)#thinking about the way anthony may delivered “when will you learn you HAVE no future?”#he thinks shulk is fully DEAD at that point. he thinks HE killed him. which he very much meant to. but now that the kid is no longer there#now that the terrible future he's been preparing for and actively working to bring about has in fact come about#i don't know that dickson really cared anymore. he played his part he did the deed expected and he did it unquestioningly. So What Now?#well. now nothing. now the world that he spent so long biding his time in; so long getting enmeshed in (even for nefarious purposes)#is about to end; is about to be gone forever.#sure zanza will probably just create another world and maybe he (dickson) will have Even More Power in the new one#(though that's not a given! he doesn't know for SURE his lord and god will keep his promise!)#but like. what the hell does he care at this point#dickson SAYS he wants power but i suspect that long long ago what the giant dickson really wanted was SURVIVAL.#we never get to know just how he became a disciple or what the giant civilization looked like in its heyday or how it ended#but in MY headcanon dickson saw that some kind of destruction coming and he wanted Out#and maybe he hated his peers and figured any power and prestige that came from this bargain was just a bonus#i think he thought of himself as a saruman type: powerful; remote; far above the petty troubles of mortals (even the long-lived high entia)#but i have always headcanoned that by his later days (i.e. when he started engaging w/colony 9; machina village; etc. in earnest)#he committed too hard to the bit and started “going native” as it were; started to give a shit in ways that he would never dare admit#maybe not as much of a shit as; you know; a regular guy would. but more than an immortal disciple and horseman of the apocalypse should.#and all the time knowing that all the world he'd seen would soon be gone#maybe everyone else can get fucked. but shulk had to die too. and that's what their god MADE them to do.#he can't allow himself to care or to hope for another option bc in his mind it's already over; decided; that's it#what else can you do in the face of ultimate power but bow to it and take whatever scraps may fall to an obedient servant?#“you have no future” nor does he except that shulk came back. except that the peoples of bionis/mechonis just wouldn't accept Fate.#and in some final rebellious corner of his mind he starts putting eggs in shulk's basket. “if they can't even defeat telethia they won't#stand a chance against me (or zanza)” so let's see if they CAN. oh they did? how about a dragon? oh fuck they defeated the dragon too?#well fuck. maybe there WAS another option all along. but will/can they stand against me; the final disciple? oh they can??#guess i'll die then bc i'm not looking THAT in the face. i am NOT unpacking my cowardice/failure/lack of vision after all these years.#good luck with that tho <3 you're welcome for the training btw. where i'm going i don't have to see your trauma assuming you live that long.#dickson#xenoblade
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everything i do is for the vegafuckers
#ginger after dark#minors dni#this wip is taking a little longer than i hoped#i was hoping to be done by today but alas it is not to be :(((#rest assured it is for a good reason#that reason is i am going to hell because jesus CHRIST this got a LOT kinkier than i was expecting#bear with me a little longer i promise it will be worth it#this fic is going to have SO many warnings on it fucking hell#basically if you have listened to the imp!vega BAs - BOTH of them - them this will be right up your alley#make of that what you will
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The painting is done. It is currently in the process of being flattened, I don’t want to take pictures until it’s flat so it won’t be warped. It’s far too nice an artwork to share photographs of it warped.
#it’s so much better than I’d even hoped#like. first time ever painting a portrait of any sort I was not expecting it to be great#especially since it’s *watercolour*#but I really like how it looks#for the finishing touches I even brought out my little sample sheet of super fancy watercolours#so I put the final touches on the portrait with paints made of semiprecious stones. fitting for the character I think.#there’s some lapis lazuli in there. some bits of shading in his hair were done with black tourmaline.#the shading in his eyes was done—very fittingly—with bloodstone. hell there’s even a little *garnet* in there.#the full list is far longer. there’s a veritable rock collection in that painting.#I think the darling vampire twink would approve.#so many hours of work though… something like 18 hours I think?#my entire body is fucking screaming from all that time kneeling hunched on the floor while I worked#but it was worth it. I love how this has turned out.
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I would really like a single office day where I don't come home and play an evening-long game of Am I The Asshole?
#i probably am#coworker got mad at me today bc she used chatg/pt to write a list of revisions for me#and what it wrote was both incredibly condescending (chat/gpt feels the need to explain the basic rules of design like you're an infant)#and way longer than it should've been (we ask everyone to keep their posts short and sweet so that we don't have to read a whole paragraph#to figure out what the hell they want us to do)#so anyway i just told her 'pls just write out the tasks we don't need a whole chatg/pt essay for this'#and that made her mad bc she 'wrote everything up so nicely!' (no you didn't bitch)#so anyway we're caught in a loop of both thinking the other is a fucking asshole who's being a dick for no reason#also i sent her 2 screenshots just to explain that I'd thought 2 things were different sizes and she went ballistic#anyway... it's annoying bc i think she's our best designer but also. very much starting to not like her as a person#maybe i complimented her work too much. the other week she wrote out changes BY HAND that were perfectly clear and good#and i told her as much in the meeting#so....i guess this time she decided to use chatgpt? to be massively condescending bc CLEARLY i didn't just type thr wrong number somewhere#nooooooo CLEARLY i just don't understand web design at all!#also she got in a snit about 'of course X is Y pixels tall! we do all those meetings where we discuss the grid size!!'#which like....i am in those meetings and they are just the one dev trying to convince the designers to use the grid#and them coming up with a million reasons not to#sooooooo fuck me i guess for not expecting you to use the grid when all you do is piss yourselves about how were stifling your creativity#ANYWAY. so yeah maybe i am the asshole but in my defence don't use a fkn ai to write something that should take like 5 mins to write
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dissertation whining - feel free to ignore
#AAAAARGH#HOW#HOW am I still discovering more stats/tests to include in this fucking dissertation article#I need to be done with it LAST MONTH and/or like 4 fucking years ago#and yet#!?!?!#I am in ADHD hell - everything takes 10x longer than expected and I can't seem to figure out what actually NEEDS to happen#vs what new tests my brain decides to pointlessly fixate on only to realize 4 hours later that it was actually not important at all#and like - the stuff I did today was very basic (and I THINK necessary?) ... but i just already thought I would be DONE with this now#I did 5 things today - only ONE of which was in my original plan for today#and the MAIN thing I thought I would finish today?#didn't even start it!#woof. ok. time to be done for the day and order something wildly unhealthy for dinner.
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me gearing up to hate my Fucking life as i work to finish this damned texting bitch of a program due tomorrow, logging into the school website to get the lab info page... only to see the due date's been pushed back a week. probably bc many people, like me, are really... not close to done with it lol
i wouldve known this if id gone to class today probs lol, but i was too busy being gay. so uh. yay? this is a genuine relief lol i was feeling Particularly destructive about it all.
#speculation nation#ive been increasingly irritated today bc of the knowledge that this was waiting for me at home#i knew i wasnt going to finish it in a way that was favorable to me. i was going to need to sacrifice sleep.#but it seems like i wont have to. thank fucking god.#anyways yea my girlfriend was visiting for the past few days (aka why ive been largely absent from here) but she's left again#i only had a few more hours with her so i decided to skip class and be gay instead of going. Lol#and then i had to go to work to do some stuff but i procrastinated leaving bc i was watching critical role#and then the stuff took longer than expected bc i had to make creme brulee bc we were completely out but got more powder for it#did inventory. prepped my notes for the meeting (that is starting. soon.)#then came home. prepared myself for Shit Night. got started looking into shit#and then found this thing. so like lmfao like Hell im going to work on this bitch tonight. fuck that.#uhmmm sorry professor for not going to class for two consecutive class periods i was busy prepping for being gay and then being gay#Finger Guns. lmao#anyways yeah life resumes as normal. im not really getting a day off this week.#WELL depending on things maybe i could get away with not coming in on thursday#i was only scheduled an hour today but it turned into 3.5hr. im not scheduled tomorrow but it's payroll week so i'll go in to do tips#then thursday im scheduled 2 hours for recipe restocking but if no recipes need restocked then like. no need & all#the other days r proper shifts. Though if they dont give us our tapioca by the weekend i'll end up not having a sunday shift#bc BOBA MAKING IS BACKKKKKKKKK (crying tears of joy and pain)#but we're getting a new machine for it so it'll hopefully be Much easier than it used to be. which is good! i fucking hated my Life with it#anyways i know i need to sleep after the manager meeting bc lol. lmao even. staying awake any longer in this kind of mood isnt gonna help
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