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reticent-writer · 3 months

Text

Alastor angst sorta

it started as angst then spiraled

@berryghostbunny

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

You were Alastor's assistant when you were alive

You helped him run the radio show

The two of you became good friends, then eventually more

He would always walk you to your house as there were a lot of missing person reports in your area

You had no idea that he was the cause

Until you saw him kill someone

You tried to pretend like you didn't see anything and acted as normal as possible but Alastor caught on

He slowly got the truth out of you and once he did he killed you

Your death was the reason he got caught and sentenced to death

You both met in hell

You panicked and tried to avoid him but he stayed close to you even while broadcasting his carnage

He could tell that in hell you were a fish out of water so he proposed a deal

He would give you enough power to protect yourself from anyone and everyone that tried to harm you in exchange for your soul

"Why are you following me?" You ask as you got away from the public eye so you could talk to him.

"I just want to have a little chat, my dear. We used to be quite close after all." He smiled

"That was a long time ago." You groaned as you hugged yourself to give some type of comfort.

"Exactly, in all my days I never would've thought that you, of all people, would end up with humanities worst. Whatever did you do, my dear." Alastor said as he approached you.

"That is none of your concern."

"Oh, but it is a sweetheart such as yourself doesn't deserve this place but looks can be deceiving." He sang as he wrapped an arm around your waist and lead you down a side walk.

"I can't think of anything bad that you could have done to end up here and I'm just dying to know."

His prying eyes stared into yours, it was making you uncomfortable. You removed his hand from your waist and walked beside him.

"Why would I tell you? You're the reason I'm here in the first place." You said. You couldn't believe how wide his smile grew.

"I did not kill you because I wanted to. In fact, it was your death that led to mine." He leaned close to your ear and whispered, "You meant that much to me, my dear." The sound of static filled your ears. His confession surprised you, it reminded you of your relationship when you were alive.

"I killed my parents." You confessed, and the static stopped abruptly.

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#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel angst #male reader #female reader #gn reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin angst #reticent writer #reticent writes

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shockedemojiatsv · 28 days

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▪︎■☆ молоко 🥛 ☆■▪︎

(Translation: Milk)

Part 1, Part 2

☆ 🔞!!NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!🔞

☆ amab! Switch! Francis Mosses / gn! Switch! Reader

☆ Reader can have either amab genitalia or a strap

☆ soft sex

☆ implied Russian speaking Francis

☆ short

☆ a little bit of a twist in the end

☆ author has played Not My Neighbor

°○☆nsfw under the cut☆○°

Francis was usually a laid back person who had a hard time showing any physical reactions to his feelings (not out of being stoic, usually he's just a little too tired to smile when he's happy or scream when he's scared). He wasn't one to smile all the time, but he showed his affection through other means. Like walking behind your back and kissing the nape of your neck and whispering "Золотце" (darling) behind your ear.

Or offering you some of his milk from work that his job wasn't able to sell so that you both could make something together or eat cereal together. There are a lot of doppelgangers everyday, everywhere, so he really cares about you. Even when he's usually too tired to express it with his face, he'll do so with his actions.

D.D.D. Is a pretty strict, so you and him made it an effort to always do everything required. If he forgot his hat at home he'd have a spare at work. You'd both work on your entry requests and always keep your ID's with you and to try to make an effort to always add your names on the list. Even if there would be an emergency at work. Just some extra measures to ease his anxiousness. And yours.

Other than that, being with him is always sweet. Like a warm mug of milk on a cold day. Steaming and keeping you warm.

Not to mentioned the sex with him. God. There's something about him and sex that makes you glad he's yours and yours alone.

His fingers are long. Not that thick, but he knew how to use them. Keenly observing your reactions within each prod as his digits brushed against a bundle of nerves that has you clutching his neck tight and holding him closer to you as he whispers "Куколка (dolly)... mmm... look at you"

He's not as verbal but he certainly has a smile on his face when he pleasures you and gives you what you want. Stroking and rubbing st your junk, it's wet. Thanks to him latching his mouth on the organ so that you could cum a couple times beforehand. He just wants to make you happy not gonna lie.

Oh, but sometimes he'll end up being a little too tired from work and not have the stamina to move at all. Not to worry! He'll be your pillow princess for the night. He loves those nights. You'll kiss his forehead softly whilst you thrust inside of him. A slow, passionate pace. You're slowly rearranging his guts while he holds the sheets so tight you'll fear they might rip in the morning.

He's a hummer. He'll hum and murmur stupid when he's fucking you. Or when you're fucking him. Phrases like "mmm... oh... З-Золотце... mmmmnnn..."

He can't help it! Even if he tried. He got shy about it actually but when you do engaged in sex more he felt like comfortable doing it. Honestly it's adorable.

Especially when he's giving oral. He's humming and drunk on the taste of you and he's always humming and moaning softly as you use him, and it feels so good. The added stimulation is so goddamn heavenly. And he's always good. He'd never tease and he never uses his teeth. He doesn't mind though if you do it. He's flexible with your desires. As long as if it isn't extreme or legitimately disgusting.

You love him so much and he loves you too and the entire building definitely knows.

...

So when he comes home with an odd demeanor. As if he's forgotten everything you two shared previously, as if hes a totally different person, you'll only have yourself to save before it's too late.

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hazelfoureyes · 2 months

Note

for your consideration:

a reader who’s genuinely more powerful than Alastor is. maybe they’re royalty or another overlord or maybe they simply just have a more commanding presence than him, but in any way, he hates it. he goes out of his way to try to one-up them (much like how he did with Lucifer), but the reader never falters, ever-calm and ever-in control. it infuriates Alastor to no end— not only because of the simple fact that he isn’t the strongest person in the room anymore, but also because the reader never treats him like he’s lesser than them. they treat him like an equal, and it makes him even angrier.

when they fuck for the first time, it’s a last-ditch attempt for Alastor to regain control— and it fails, because even though Alastor is on top with his nails digging into the reader’s skin, doing his very best to cause the pain he knows he can cause, the reader still just stares up at him, taking it like they always do. no tears fall from their eyes, no pleads fall from their lips. Alastor is dissatisfied— very much so. so they do it again. and again. and again, until it’s something of a game between them. until one day, the reader’s composure finally shatters.

they’ve had enough of Alastor’s attitude and disrespect, and they tell him as much. they pin him down, snarling about his god complex and his twisted sadism and how long they’ve been waiting to put him in his place. and Alastor finds that no matter how much he struggles, he can’t get that control that had been so rudely snatched from him back. but the thing is— a part of him likes it. really, really likes it— that loss of power that should be his and his alone, being held just out of his petulant reach. it brings him a sick feeling that he’s never felt before and can’t get enough of.

that part grows and grows until he’s the one crying and begging and squirming weakly underneath the reader, both his smile and his mind threatening to break as the reader fucks him relentlessly. no matter how many times either of them cums, the reader doesn’t stop, not until Alastor is screaming his apologies, over and over and over again. he hates it. he loves it.

when it’s all over, and when the reader has settled, Alastor makes them promise that they will never speak of this again. without a hint of smugness, the reader agrees— but maybe the next time Alastor is acting up, the reader will only have to give him a look. and he will know.

I know this wasn’t a prompt necessarily but don’t think you can come into MY HOUSE and lay a feast in front of me and not expect I’d dig in 👏 face 👏 first 👏 so here’s me just kinda riffing off your DELICIOUSLY WRITTEN MESSAGE. NO TIME TO EDIT A CUTE REPLY IMAGE

Wrapped around Your Finger (Ace Alastor bottoms for a GN!Seraphim Reader short smut)

Warnings/Promises: 🗣️ ALASTOR GETS FINGERED, Gender Neutral Reader x Alastor smut, hate fucking, bondage, initial dubcon, Ace Alastor, scratching, kinda degradation kink, Angel Reader, Reader is a good friend, Protect Angel Dust at all costs

minors dni

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ When Lucifer introduced a defected Seraphim to the hotel, Alastor’s smile dropped. You had feet yet to him you seemed to glide through the hotel halls effortlessly. You were impeccably dressed, ever polite, well mannered, clean. It was driving him mad. Yes, Alastor knew the importance of being well groomed. He exalted manners and gentility. He disliked grime and thought a lack of personal hygiene was an actual sin. But the sight of you, every fucking day with that ever present soft smile on your lips? Your gaze, always gentle as you listened to sinners explain their dreams of redemption. Nails on a chalkboard. Every room you were in, all eyes turned to you. It was if the air itself was pulled into your charms.

Every one in the hotel either feared Alastor or, at least, failed to hide their annoyance when He’d sneak up on them or touch them without warning. Of course, not you. Alastor shocked himself with his antics in attempt to make you react to him at all. Charlie would pull him aside weekly, asking what the actual fuck? “Why did you say that? They know they aren’t from here, we all know that, but telling them they are most unnatural creature to ever exist in Hell? And I don’t think it was an accident you knocked their drink over. Al, you are being a bully.” Yes, and he was sorry. Sorry he was so ineffective. Not even a fucking knitted brow so much as flashed at him when he spilled your drink down your chest. You smiled, you had the audacity to smile at him and say, “Whoops. Your monocle isn’t prescription, huh?” He only had one option left to push you beneath him—-rip you to pieces. Any thing to get you to look at him differently than all the other weak souls mulling about in hell.

Alastor had seen you fight, when an overlord came to the hotel to taste seraphim blood, all of the Pride Ring saw your power. Arms out stretched, a glow came from your palms, yellow and bright. With the speed of someone enjoying a breakfast on the patio on a Sunday in hell, you knelt down and pressed your palms into the ground. A flash of light and power rung out from you and blinded everyone watching, but Alastor could see you as he melted into the deepest shadows your light created. White and gold glowing shards erupted from the dirt, fracturing the grounds of the hotel lawn as they formed a jagged but intelligent line straight for the demon. The overlord barely recovered from the blinding effect of your power before a glass-like piece shot from the ground and straight through his chest. It was over in seconds, and you had never dropped your soft grin.

He was prideful, but not stupid. A test, a little experiment first. When you watched sweetly from the sidelines and Charlie directed yet another meaningless activity, Alastor stood opposite you. Your eyes flitted from person to person, your smile small but genuine. Were you glowing? He had had enough. He reached his shadow appendages out and wrapped one around your ankle, as it gripped and prepared to drag you to the floor in what he hoped would be an embarrassing display, nothing happened. As the tentacle touched you, it dissipated. Your light entirely erasing the shadow.

He felt his mind breaking. Every night he paced, feeling your overwhelming presence in the hotel even at such a distance. He decided to try the one thing he’d never tried. Atleast, not since coming to hell. You were always so accommodating, maybe to a fault? He found you in kitchen, alone, making yourself some sickeningly sweet drink. Your body froze when Alastor pressed against you from behind. But, you didn’t make a sound. “Apologies, I don’t think I can suffer any longer.” He ground his hips into your ass, “I never do this, a gentleman through and through. But you see, as a deer demon, sometimes there are periods of—- unbearable discomfort. I can’t focus on redemption like this.”

Alastor was shocked when you swiveled around, eyes closed from your smile, and said, “I came here to help. What can I do?”

He couldn’t understand it. Bent over the counter in the common area, his nails cutting lines down your sides that healed with a frustrating speed, you just sighed into him. Little moans, soft exhales. He slammed your hips against him, the sound ringing through the kitchen. But still, your eyes were closed but not clenched. Your sounds small and even. The only thing keeping him hard was your hand, reached back and digging nails into his thighs. The tiniest hint of your true feelings. He’d bury his mind where your hand tore his skin and find release. Happy to see you at least a little less perfectly assembled after.

Alastor would find you at the most inconvenient times, in the most public settings, and find some excuse to need to fuck you. At one point a sinner even walked in on you two, and to Alastor’s palpable dismay, you apologized to the sinner for blocking the ice machine.

Your resolve finally snapped, however, when Alastor stepped past a line he didn’t know you had. Alastor had you, uncharacteristically, in your bed. He always spoke during sex but now, now it was genuinely grating you. “You’re such a whore, coming to Hell just to eat demon cock. If you drowned in cum you’d probably respawn as an even bigger slut than Angel Dust.” You sat up, one hand on his chest and the other under his armpit, and flipped him onto his back. Alastor’s arm moved to push back, but he found both wrists held down to the bed with a signature glow.

“If you knew Angel half as well as you pretended, you’d know how fucking stupid you sound.” Your hands gathered his cum from earlier that evening, slowly dripping out of you with the sudden change in position. “He’s the whore? Who stalks this hotel, hungry for any ounce of attention? A petulant child willing to embarrass others just so teacher notices them?” Your hand began to pump his cock. Alastor thrashed, he hated people handling his dick, but that was overshadowed by his disgust of having his semen spread over his skin. The sensation made his skin crawl and he would have gone soft but when he met your gaze he only grew harder in your fist. Your eyes were alight, figuratively and literally. The rage on your face made his smile drop entirely. You looked like you hated him. “If he is a whore, then you are Mary Magdalene. I’ll wash your feet for you, sinner.” You used your knees to spread open his untethered legs.

“I know you, Alastor,” the fingers of your other hand slicked through the lathered cum dripping down his ass and began to massage at his hole. “Your greatest sin wasn’t murder. It was pride. Never could let anyone see the famous Radio star with even a hair out of place. You’d drop your morals for even a taste of an improved social image. Even in death, you abuse and hound others who dare to make you feel less than how you demand you look from the outside.” He wanted to say anything, argue, roar, but his jaw was locked in place. Your eyes never left his, and soon his vision was darkening around your luminescent stare. A finger slipped into him, slowly but with resistance.

“Tell me to stop.” Your hand slowed to let his muscles relax around your digit before picking up speed again, curving your palm over his head with every pull upward, “Tell me to stop and I will. I’ll go right back to who I always am, and always will be. I’ll smile at you every morning and move out of your way with a nod in the halls. Say ‘stop’.” Your words were threats, not idle or hollow and it made Alastor’s thighs twitch. Go back? Return to looking at him like you truly wanted the best for him despite how dirty his hands were? Soft eyes threatening to make him melt into a lesser, weaker man?

You were in him to the knuckle, finger prodding and twirling.

His eyes were wide but focused on you. Alastor thought his soul would evaporate, your face a sneer he’d never been so lucky to even imagine before now. He could feel you around him, in him.

A tiny, halted, “S-,” was forced through his teeth.

Stop?

Slower?

He shook his head, eyes fluttering closed.

“God, you’re pathetic. What about a sorry? Can you manage a single apology for your comments tonight? I’ll let you roll me back into the mattress, for a sincere ‘sorry’.” Alastor's knees hitched, his head fell back, and he came over your knuckles with a pained groan. But you didn’t stop. You’d get your reply, eventually.

Alastor gave a threat of his own when you finally got your apology, half screamed through his third orgasm, and let him flee your bed. You nodded and agreed, yes yes, this never happened blah blah yet another example of your enormous pride.

After that night, any time Alastor wanted to yank on Husk’s chains, or double speak someone into a deal, he’d pause and look around. Expecting your two golden lit eyes to be staring, ready to flip him onto his back and drag several more apologies from him.

༻Masterlist༺

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talkbycolor · 5 months

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john doe game headcanons . . . ↷

A/N; i'm actually really sensitive about john doe JHSAJHSAJAS

Pairing; "John Doe" x GN!Reader

CW; Just doe being the weirdo we love / PISSPISSPISS / implied cannibalism? not so much tho / ew stinky gay / sex with a hairball

john doe as a partner.

His love for you is pure, but the lack of understanding in humans makes it complicated, he doesn't know how to express it in a "correct" way.

He has little interest in humans but all his interest in You, do you want to learn to play an instrument? Doe too, he would learn to use a phone to call you although it would be useless since in the end he would follow you to work, he can't stand having you away for even a second!

He tried to eat you (unfortunately not in a sexual way), he wanted to bite, pull your teeth, and tear them out of your cheeks to eat them, you had to use a lot of patience to explain to him that this was painful and you could die

He likes your fluids, your sweat smells so good, it tastes great, your tears, he knows that tears mean something is wrong but he can't help but want to lick them, at least he's like a puppy in that way and that will make you laugh, Doe wants to help! your urine, he will drink it all without a problem, if you are both having a loving session in bed and you want to go to the bathroom, forget it, he will open your legs and help empty your bladder, he loved being your personal toilet, your blood is the sweetest of his paradise, be careful with accidental cuts or his mouth will stick like a leech to your wound

Ideas for romantic activities will probably come from television, be careful what he watches

At this point, Doe lives by and for you, he will adapt to your lifestyle and tastes, although he cannot understand most of them, the idea of "breaking up" does not exist in his head, you can walk away, even stop talking to him and he will continue behind you

But he has feelings, why don't you talk to him anymore? Did he do something wrong? He no longer leaves rats in the kitchen, he no longer tries to make You dinners with raw meat, is that the way he looks? Tell him your standards! Doe will change everything for you, even reality

He can definitely purr, he's more like an old, ugly, stray cat that will rest on your lap, but he's YOUR, old, ugly, stray cat.

He doesn't know how to give compliments, it's more like observations or comments about how you make him feel "You're wearing a big hat!" "A red dress!", "I'm so happy to see you!" but it's adorable that he reminds you that you are his whole life…somehow

It's like having a child at home, in the strangest way possible, he will try to make horrible crafts for you and help with housework without much success.

If you demand sex, Doe would probably do his best to make a nice cock, just for you, or a pussy depending on what you like, he will be submissive but if you ask him to take control he will try

And that will probably be the messiest and hardest sex you've ever had in your life, Doe always adores you like it's your last day on earth so in a sexual sphere it would be ten times worse

If you put on a movie at night, he will fall asleep halfway through, no exceptions, the sound of the television and your smell will be enough

Doe would definitely kill for you, he doesn't understand jokes so please don't say "Ugh I hate that guy, I hope he's dead" because yes, the guy will be dead.

In case You doesn't like the smelly boy, Doe will try to take showers regularly, at least to not smell like something out of the sewer, the pain doesn't matter if it's about you

Loves physical contact and quality time

Surprisingly, Doe has a driver's license, he would be your personal chauffeur, you may think it's an adorable gesture but he just wants to be sure where you are at every hour of the day… and help, of course.

Aside from adoring you, Doe actually has his own tastes and hobbies, he HAS feelings! He has tried knitting since the technology is very confusing, he really is like an old man

He tries to have a good relationship with your friends and family, if you have a big family he will probably feel overwhelmed but that doesn't mean he will stop trying to show that he loves you and wants to be with you.

Your younger nephews love it, they think of Doe as a weird-looking uncle who lets them play with his hair

Doe shirt always has hearts when he looks at You.

♡

#nb reader #lgbtq community #lgbtqia #john doe #john doe game #john doe x reader #john doe x you #headcanons #writers on tumblr #john doe game headcanons #john doe visual novel #yandere visual novel #yandere x reader #yandere #smut #gn reader

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tinkerleaf · 28 days

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Protective Men

warnings: cursing, a little violence, creeps

✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

I can see Dazai as the type to carefully watch as the client you've been working with leans a little too close to you. He may be across the room but he still follows the man's every move. You wave off a few subtly flirtatious remarks and glance over at Dazai. When he sees the man 'accidentally' brush a hand on your back, he's had enough, leaving his chair and strolling over to the two of you.

"You need any help, sweetheart?"

Your client is less than pleased with his presence, "We're fine, thank you."

"You're flirting with them, aren't you?" His voice is calm and low, but his tone has a clear edge of warning.

The man scoffs, "As if that's any of your business."

"They're a little busy with your case right now. You should be focused on that."

"I don't think I was hurting anything."

"That's not the point. They're working. They don't need you to distract them." Dazai replies, still calm but firm. "Atsushi! Come take this case!"

The silver-haired boy comes in, a look of concern on his face. "What's going on?"

"Nothing" Dazai replies with a smirk, "This fellow has a case for you."

Atsushi nods and takes over while Dazai takes you by the arm and leads you out of the office. "I didn't like that at all."

"I can see that," you smile as you two walk into the cafe. "But now I've lost a case..."

"You didn't need it. I've seen his file. You're more suited for missions than simple tasks. It's good practice for Atsushi." He sips his coffee. "Besides, he was too comfortable with you, and I don't like random people getting too close to you."

✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

I imagine Chuuya biting his tongue to keep himself from telling off the man whose eyes were all over your figure. The Port Mafia had all kinds of weirdos come in and out, but this one in particular must not have known who he was dealing with.

When you get up to leave, the man grabs you by your wrist. "Where ya goin'?"

Chuuya instantly stands and swiftly places a knife up to his throat. The man lets you go, holding his hands above his head. "Keep your fucking hands off of them."

"I wasn't gonna do anythi-"

Chuuya interrupts him by knocking him out. The man has an important role for now in the mafia, so he couldn't kill him yet.

"Come on." You follow him back to his office. He shuts the door behind him and sits at his desk. "Look at me."

You sit down across from him.

"If anything happens like that again with anybody here, you let me know first, understand?"

You nod.

"That shit pisses me off more than anything, especially when it comes to you."

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90sbee · 5 months

Text

Dying is not an option (when you're by my side)

Leon S. Kennedy x Gn!reader

1k words. Also on a03

Soft fingers caress his lips, keep his body warm, his belly full and his back massaged.

“I’ll always have a home,” Leon finally manages to get out, a complete sentence, voice without hesitation.

He closes his eyes, kisses the skin of your shoulder.

Hell, he is trying.

When his mind seems to get too clouded by the visions of monsters, you pull him out of the depths of his trauma. He does his best to love you. He tries.

Or the fic in which you make Leon repeat comforting phrases so it finally gets in his head that he is loved.

Just a very soft idea that wouldn't leave my head and that's been too long in the wip folder. The warnings make it seem worse than it is, but happy ending I promise!!! Had re4r in mind for this one but can be read with other older versions of him. (Though the older the Leon, the angstier it gets lmao)

Content: No use of y/n, very very soft love, hurt/comfort, some angst, established relationship, living together, sitting on his lap, a tiny bit of possessive Leon (yay!)

Warnings: +18 ONLY. No smut but some suggestive lines. Mentions of blood, suicide, guns and overall (some brief) gore. Leon's mental struggles (depression, anxiety). I'm not a native English speaker but I (lazily) proofread and edited this one.

You lean forward, just a little closer to his body. Leon groans, his face unreadable still.

“Don’t want to,” he muses, kind of annoyed at your proposal.

“Just trust me.”

He reluctantly nods, as you get comfortable on his lap. His firm thighs under you, the warmest and comfiest seat you could ever ask for.

You worry about him, worry so much.

You know now: know what he does, what he works as. At first it was hard to believe it, the stories about human turned monsters, about creatures that linger between heaven and hell. But you had to believe him, you were forced to the first time Leon crumbled down in your arms, sobbing the entirety of the night, the immensity of his body reduced to shivering and tears.

“I love you,” you had told him that time. “I’m not letting you go. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You whisper the same things again now, your voice reverberating close to his ear. Leon eases the grip on your hips, replaces it with a soft touch. He tries to calm down, closes his eyes for a moment too long.

“You love me,” he seems to ask, as if trying to convince himself of it, as if trying to find himself worthy of such a feeling from someone like you.

“I do,” you confirm, cupping his cheeks.

He nods, though his heart is thumping in his chest still. Your hands move to his shoulders, then to his arms, caressing the skin with soft strokes.

“I love you… Look at me.”

He obliges, eyes like the ocean, marked by the heavy and dark eyebags.

It breaks your heart to see him like this. Your lip trembles as you lean closer, shortening the distance.

It is entirely possible —as you’re so much aware of— that one day you’ll come home to an unlocked gun and his body in the bathtub. Or maybe it would be the rifle, the carpet stained with blood and pieces of what used to be his jaw.

A jaw that you love so much, that you kiss now.

Leon sighs, seems content with such affection, his hands getting lost down your thighs.

“Listen to me. You’re gonna repeat as I say, okay?” an attempt to get him out of his head, to remind him of who he is.

“ …‘Kay,” he mumbles, seemingly distracted.

“I’m… good.”

He scrunches his nose, pinkish lips downturned. Naturally, he doesn’t dare to say those words. He doesn’t want to trick his brain.

“C’mon,” you egg him, patting his shoulder gently.

The action seems to at least make his lips curve slightly.

“I’m good,” he whispers, his voice insecure.

He tries. You can see how hard he does it: coming home as much possible, the dirty laundry now clean and with a soft cinnamon scent. A sunflower in the kitchen vase next to the window, the coffee mug always clean even when you leave it in the sink, ready to be washed in the morning.

“I’m a good partner,” you resume, reminiscing.

That does stops him in his tracks, a gentle blush rooting on his cheeks, the smile more pronounced now. Leon presses his face against your neck.

“… Do I really have to say it?”

“Yep.”

He breathes on your neck, as if trying to take in a bit of your kindness, a bit of your peace. He closes his eyes, tries to control his breathing. But his hands grip your hips harder.

He fucking loves you.

Leon is not sure he deserves this yet, the warm body on the bed, the pretty smile that kisses him goodbye, lets him go away even in the middle of the night.

“I love you,” he backtracks, pressing a kiss on your neck.

You chuckle, and allow him that admission.

“Very cute but that’s not what you had to repeat.”

Leon raises his eyebrows, feigning annoyance. He keeps his fingers on your hips, dancing on your skin, drawing patterns as he keeps you close. He wishes he could sign his name there, mark you forever so you’d never get too far away from him… So he’d always have a right to come back to you.

“But I love you…” he pouts.

You grab his face with utmost care, force his cheeks to look upwards at your face.

“I love you too. Lots.”

You kiss his forehead. His body melts under that touch.

“ ‘m a good partner” he mumbles, quickly.

“My baby loves me.”

Now Leon chuckles.

“My baby loves me,” he hides again on your neck, his smile etched constantly on his face now. You hug him closer, kiss his forehead once more, as if sheltering a lost angel in your arms.

“I’ll always have a home.”

Oh, that one seems to break him a little. Leon immediately whines, his hands gripping your body with ferocity against his. He can’t say… He shouldn’t. He… he can’t and…

His heart starts beating faster and he gulps.

“You can do it…” you encourage him and he wants to try. He knows, deep inside, that is true and that he is now safe. It takes him several minutes until his anxiety dissipates and he can look up at you, your eyes encapsulating warmth that he had never experienced with anyone else.

Soft fingers caress his lips, keep his body warm, his belly full and his back massaged.

“I’ll always have a home,” Leon finally manages to get out, a complete sentence, voice without hesitation.

He closes his eyes, kisses the skin of your shoulder.

Hell, he is trying. It is seen not only in how much he makes time for you, but also in the way he follows along with your little silly ideas, suggestions to try to build himself up again.

And though he wouldn’t directly admit it, since you two are together he has promised himself to fight his hardest in every mission. He spits his own blood, wipes off the exhaustion from his face and keeps pushing forward. Because, he’ll be damned, he wants to see you once more. And once more. And again and again… And when he comes home, to you, Leon immediately checks —for the tenth time— the safety on each gun and leaves them in locked boxes, his fingers slowly forgetting what it’s like to toy with weapons in the sanctuary that you’ve built for the two of you. The cold of the metal is now replaced by the warmth between your thighs, the flesh on your hips, the softness of your hands.

Hell, he is definitely trying.

And it’s fucking working.

God to be on his lap honestly!!! A dream. And if you've made it to the end, thank you!! Mwah, sweet soul 💙

#x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy hurt/comfort #writer bee #mine #gn!reader #mdni divider by #@/cafekitsune #divider and support banner by #@/saradika

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sinkovia · 3 months

Text

Riley

Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Angst

As you stood in the presence of Ghost, your boyfriend who had been missing for a year and two months, a heavy sense of disbelief washed over you.

"Ghost?" you gasped, your eyes widening as you stared at the man standing before you in the rain. His once warm and gentle gaze now appeared distant and cold, his grip on the combat knife, a gift you had given him two years ago, seemed unnaturally tight.

"Simon, it's me!" you yelled, trying to get through to him, but the look in his eyes was chilling. It was as if he didn't recognize you at all. The man you had loved, who had become your partner in life, now looked at you like you were a complete stranger. In his silence, he lunged at you with the knife, and you realized with a sinking feeling that something was terribly wrong. It was as though he had been brainwashed, transformed into a weapon, a threat that couldn't be reasoned with.

Trying to reach him, you spoke softly but with determination, "Simon, it's me. Do you remember? It's Y/n. You know me!"

But he remained unresponsive, his eyes locked onto you with a deadly intensity. He lunged at you with the knife, aiming to strike, and you managed to parry the attack, your years of training and reflexes kicking in.

You continued, your voice pleading as you tried to break through to him, "Remember, all those missions we went on together, the late-nights in the rec room, all of soaps shitty jokes?!"

Each swing of his knife was met with your skillful deflection, but it was clear that he had been brainwashed. He wouldn't stop until he struck you down.

"Simon, please!", your heart aching as you dodged and blocked his attacks. "Think about everything we've been through, all the memories we've created. I'm not your enemy. Please remember who I am!"

But there was no sign of recognition in his eyes, only a relentless determination to eliminate the perceived threat. You were in a battle against the very person you had missed so dearly, and all you could do was hope that some part of the real Simon remained within. The battle continued and you desperately parried Ghost's relentless attacks. You kept yelling at him, trying to get through to him. You had managed to hold your own against him, deflecting every strike he sent your way. Your balance faltered when you stepped in a puddle of mud, and Ghost seized the opportunity to strike. His combat knife found its mark.

The blade cut into your arm, a searing pain shooting through your body. You hissed as you tried to regain your footing, but it was too late. Ghost's knife plunged deep into your stomach. The irony of the situation didn't escape you; you had given him that very knife as a gift, and now it was embedded in your abdomen. He ripped the knife out of your stomach and raised it again, his next target, your chest. Your teary eyes went to his and in one final attempt to get through to him the word spilled from your bloody lips as his knife was stabbed deep in your chest.

"Riley"

Only you had called him this, whenever you were lecturing him, nagging him about something, you had always called him by his last name. It seemed to break through the fog that had clouded his mind. His eyes, once cold and distant, softened as he gazed at your face, and a flicker of recognition danced in his eyes. You smile knowing you finally got through to him.

As he took in your injured state, his gaze dropped to the knife he held, buried deep in your chest. Horror washed over his face as he realized what he just did. Your knees buck and you fall to the ground, bringing him with you. With tears in his eyes, he pulled you close, cradling you in his arms, the blood from your chest staining his clothes and mingling with the rain-soaked ground.

You were dead before you hit the ground.

"Love?" He pulled you closer to him, holding your lifeless body against his chest, his tears falling freely as he begged, his voice trembling with desperation.

"Y/n? Look at me," he pleaded, his voice shaking.

"Look at me, love. Baby please, please just look at me." his voice broke as he continued, unable to accept the reality.

"I'm so sorry."

He tightly clung to your body but your lifeless eyes remained far away, and you were gone, lost forever to a world where his words couldn't reach you.

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cryptidghostgirl · 1 month

Note

This is gunna sound confusing and Idk if you do him or not but could you do a Vox x reader where they have been dating for a while and Vox realizes that they havnt kissed yet and whenever he has tried or tries she turns away with a nervous laugh and says something to distract him and he finds out it's because she is nervous that she will mess up his screen like smudge it or break it (like when you touch a tv and the light warps because the screen moves slightly and if you do it to hard it can stay that way)

A/N i am actually obsessed with this idea. it is so cute and fluffy. it was so fun to write. Also, I know I said that part four of Cover Up was next in line but that part is gonna be NSFW and I am kinda nervous about it so....

Smudge (Vox x Gn!Partner!Reader)

Pairing: Vox x Reader

Warnings: Hurt/comfort (but you're the one comforting Vox mostly)

Word Count: 1,255

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

Vox had known Y/n for nearly a year now and they had been together for just over five months. At first, he had assumed their resistance to have any physical contact outside of the holding of hands, the occasional hug or cuddle in front of the TV, was out of a desire to take things slow.

He looked over at where they sat beside him on the couch, his arm draped over the back of the sofa.

That he could understand. What he didn't understand was how slow taking it slow really meant. More than five months in and they had yet to have their first kiss. Y/n had never even so much as given him a peck on the cheek. Vox was a patient man but it didn't stop him from trying, he leaned in. Just as his lips were about to make contact with the side of their head -- not even their face! -- he felt a soft pressure on his shoulder.

Y/n had stopped him, again. Their eyes met his. They hadn't even given him the dignity of a gentle hand on his cheek, of anything other than an apologetic smile.

"I need to shower, my hair is greasy."

Vox was a confident man. In his position, it was hard not to be. Still, the whole situation was beginning to weigh on him. Y/n must have noticed as the smile slipped from their face, morphing their features into an expression of mild concern.

"Vox, hunny, are you okay?"

"I..."

He withdrew from the warmth of their touch, fixing his gaze back on the TV. It was unfamiliar territory. He had never had trouble getting people before, he had no idea how to act. In every past experience, he hadn't cared what disregarding such a request as to not kiss a prospective partner, or real partner even, could do. The care was what made things complicated.

Vox was not a good man. He had never been a good man, not even when alive. Y/n made him want to be one. The way they saw him... they didn't want him for his power, his influence, his money. They wanted him for him. It was obvious. In every lingering touch, every word, every home cooked meal or surprise outing. It was all so new, so different. They made Vox want to be the man they thought him to be.

"It's nothing."

Y/n was silent for a moment. He could feel their eyes on him but did not dare to return their quizzical stare. It was all so fragile, their relationship, even Y/n themself. He heard them sigh and felt their weight shift on the couch beside him. The TV clicked off. At last, he met their gaze once more.

"I don't like it when you lie to me." they hummed softly, turning to face him fully, pulling their knees up onto the couch, "What's going on?"

Vox grimaced.

"It's... please, Y/n. Don't worry about it. Everything is okay, I promise."

Y/n raised their eyebrows, cocking their head to one side. They could tell he was lying. Somehow, they always could. From the moment he met them, Vox had the uncanny feeling Y/n could see right through his facade, to the very essence of his being. It was a fear, it was a thrill, it was a delight, it was...

Vox sighed, his eyes finding his hands where they rested in his lap. He wasn't used to feeling small, to feeling weak. He did now.

"It's stupid."

"If it is bothering you this much, it's not stupid Voxy."

The dam broke.

"Why wont you kiss me?"

His voice came out smaller than he'd meant it too, more frail then he thought it was possible of being. Y/n said nothing in response and tentatively, Vox looked back over to them. Their lips were slightly parted, their eyes met his. Y/n blushed and looked away.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Vox sighed, leaning back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling, "I told you, don't worry about it."

"No, Vox. It... clearly its upsetting you, let's talk about it."

"So, why wont you?" he prompted after a moment.

He watched them out of the corner of his eye, noting the way their eyes flicked nervously around the room, the way they fiddled with their interlaced fingers. A tremor in his diaphragm, his heart fell.

"If you don't..." Vox took a deep breath, "if you d-"

"It's not that I don't love you." Y/n interrupted, still refusing to meet his sidelong glance with their own eyes, "It's... I want to be with you Vox, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me for Christ's sake it's just..."

"Just what?"

"It's... stupid."

They looked up at him, the hint of a smile on their face, their brow furrowed. Vox straightened himself. If they were going to repeat his words, he could repeat theirs too. He took their hands into his, facing fear head on.

"If it's bothering you that much, it can't be stupid or... or whatever it was you said..."

Y/n let out a slight laugh.

"Okay fine, but you have to promise not to laugh, okay?"

"I promise."

They watched him for a moment, appraising the validity of his statement, before nodding their head once.

"Isn't it going to... I don't know... what if I crack your screen?"

Vox's eyes went wide. He couldn't help himself, he laughed. Y/n pulled their hands from his, hitting his arm playfully.

"Hey! You promised."

"I know!" Vox struggled to catch his breath, "It's just... thats what you've been worried about this whole time?"

"Uh... yeah?"

Finally, Vox managed to calm himself, looking over at Y/n happily.

"What."

"Come here."

He patted his lap. Y/n looked doubtfully between his hand and his face.

"Come here." Vox said again.

They rolled their eyes, standing up and taking a few steps towards Vox before sitting down.

"Other way."

They shot him a look over their shoulder. Vox rolled his eyes.

"Please."

"Why?"

"Just... trust me."

After a moments thought, Y/n readjusted their position, now straddling their boyfriend. They placed their hands on his shoulders, keeping their balance. Vox reached a hand up to their face, cupping their cheek gently. Y/n leaned into the gesture as if on instinct, their cheeks flushing pink once they realized what they had done. Vox chuckled.

"Y/n, can I kiss you?"

"What if I smudge your glass? Or like, leave one of those weird imprints or something on your face? I-"

He cut them off mid worry, pressing his lips softly to theirs. It was not a long kiss or a very deep one but it sent shivers down Y/n's spine, sparks to Vox's fingers. Their eyes met, Y/n was breathless.

"Not so bad, was it?"

Y/n leaned forward, balling their hands into the unbuttoned collar of his shirt as they kissed him again.

"No." they hummed, "Not bad at all."

Vox laughed. Running a hand through their hair, he pressed a soft kiss to their forehead. He couldn't stop smiling.

"I'm alright."

"I was right though."

Vox's brow furrowed and Y/n grinned up at him, raising their hand to his face.

"I did smudge you."

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