#if i had been bothered to give even more fucks i could have probably found a way to go make his hair look like bloodsplatter or smth
Photo
So the background being that poppy was a pure anything but anything grimdark neutral looked wrong afterwards so...pop~
Today is a day of artistic edge or whatever you call it and alas-Aiden had to suffer my mood here today because ~aesthetics~-they are there to be enjoyed
#what do you mean its 3am again#i am genuinely surprised every time bc time isnt real#the witcher#aiden#zkretchy#art#i had to chuckle drawing the lilies#bc lilies are poisonous to cats and aidy is a cat witcher bla bla#putting the fun in funeral#does this count as some kinda body horror?#flower horror?#idk my tolerance for this shit is high so i cant rely on instinct or whatever#dont judge my words rn like i said-3am#and i already drew a fleshy ??????good boy#so we are vibing on aesthetic horror atm#if i had been bothered to give even more fucks i could have probably found a way to go make his hair look like bloodsplatter or smth#but alas-i liked it that way and didnt wanna redraw it#anyhow hope you enjoy one of my most ~aesthetics pieces#bc it was a lot of fun to do it#and just slap effects on and play w/ colours etc a lot#i will now go pass out until work calls again which i rly wish i didnt have to do#i'd rather go draw some more but alas...bills gotta be paid somehow
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safe
words: 1.1k
warnings: home break in (not really described though), drug dealer!rafe and reader, pregnant!reader, husband!rafe
“r-rafe.” your voice is timid and shaky, so unlike what rafe is normally used to hearing. he instantly knows something is off, wrong.
“baby, what is it?” rafe asks into the phone, wishing he could see your face right now, could read the emotion in your expression.
“something uh-something happened. the police are here.”
“shit, are you alright?” rafe is suddenly moving away from the party, needing the noise of music from the live band and people talking and laughing to stop drowning out your words. “is the baby alright? did barry get caught?”
“yeah, we are both fine.” you press your hand against your stomach, the spot your baby always kicks, glad when you feel her stomp against your skin, reminding you she's okay, even if you don't currently feel like you are. “its not the business. there were some um… robbers.”
“what?” rafe shouts, knowing he probably just made you jump over the phone, but he can't help the loud reaction, needing more information, and needing it now.
“yeah they came into the house. i hid in the closet, but they found me. they didn't do anything, just shoved me a bit. they did take a lot of the jewelry you got me, i don't know what else, you'll have to talk to the police and give them a full invento-”
“shit, y/n!” rafe interrupts you. “i don't care about our stuff! i only care about you and the baby. im coming home right now.”
“okay.” you whisper over the phone. “im sitting on the front porch.”
“and police are watching you?” rafe asks, hurrying to his car, not bothering to explain to anyone his sudden leaving as he tears out of the parking lot.
“yeah, they're here. don't worry, im safe. i don't think they even had weapons, at least none that i saw.” rafe can hear you take a shuddering breath, his heart breaking that he wasn't there with you, foot pressing down even harder on the pedal to get him there faster. “the police think they broke in and expected no one to be home because of midsummers.”
you look down, rubbing your hand over your belly. “guess they didn't expect me to be home because none of my heels fit anymore and even the maternity dresses make me look like a whale.” you mean it as a joke, but it has tears flowing down your eyes, wishing you would have just sucked up your insecurities and gone with rafe. you still would have got robbed, but without the trauma of being there during the break in.
“im two minutes, baby. two minutes and you'll be safe in my arms.” rafe tries to keep his voice calm for you, but it's a struggle.
“i… i just wanna be safe.” you mutter the last words of the call, voice breaking as you begin to sob. rafe hears an officer try to calm you, but he knows it won't work, knows the only thing you need is him.
he parks haphazardly behind the police cars, fully blocking the street without a care in the world, not even taking the car keys out as he runs across the yard, sprinting until he reaches you.
“im here.” his arms are finally around your shoulders. “im here.”
you continue to sob, only lessened by pressing your face into rafes chest as he cradles you, even managing to pull you onto his lap despite your protruding baby bump.
“ive got you, princess.” rafe kisses the top of your head, continuing his reassuring words, the police officers giving you some space, but not retreating any farther than the steps leading onto the porch.
“oh my god, i was so scared.” you whine out, managing to blink back your tears enough to look at rafe.
“im so sorry baby.” rafe sighs. “i should have been here.”
“no.” you shake your head. “you had to go to midsummers. it's okay.”
“as soon as you said you weren't coming, i should have canceled it. should have never left my pregnant wife at home alone. im the worst fucking husband.” rafe knows his words aren't comforting, but he needs to make sure you know that he is the one to blame for what happened.
“what?” you press your fingers against rafes cheeks. “you couldn't have known, baby.”
“i still should have been here.” rafe leans in, taking your mouth in a strong kiss. “i love you, baby.”
“oh my god, you're not gonna leave my side for the next year, are you?” you let out a tiny laugh, the noise relieving rafe, loosening some of the tension in his chest.
“definitely not, my love.” rafe pulls you closer.
“thank you for coming so quickly.” you whisper, letting your head rest against rafes chest. “i really am okay. just freaked out.”
“don't worry, baby.” rafes voice suddenly changes tone. “the second they try to sell any of your jewelry, ill find them. they won't make it far at all. ill make sure they can never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”
you know you should tell rafe to let the police handle it, to not get personally involved in clearly dangerous men, but any man who lays their hands on a pregnant woman doesn't deserve to breathe, let alone only be punished to a few months in jail like what would no doubtabley happen if you went the legal way.
“im surprised you haven't called barry already.” you laugh softly, knowing he will be just as pissed as rafe. you came into their life and helped expand the business, turning them from lowly dealers to something bigger, better. still dealing, of course, but offering protection and other services as well.
“figure id let the police leave first.” rafe rubs your back, glad that you're slowly getting back to your jokey and sharp witted self. “before he insisted on being your personal armed guard until those guys are put in the ground.”
“yeah, once baby girl pops, im going to have to ask him to teach me to shoot. just in case anything like this happens again.” you feel bad that you relied so heavily on rafes protection, that you let yourself slack to the point where an emergency arose and you hid in the closet instead of grabbing a glock.
“hey, what about me?” rafe whines, knowing he'd never let another man teach you how to shoot, not even your joint business partner barry.
“fine.” you joke, sighing and sliding off rafes lap. “you better go talk to the police about what else might be missing. i wouldn't let them snoop around.”
you don't keep anything illicit in your house, but just in case you weren't about to give the law open access to your home.
“in a minute.” rafe keeps his arms around you, not willing to let you move too far from his hold. “need to just keep my wife in my arms for a few minutes longer.”
you look out onto the sky, the stars glimmering in the darkness of light, allowing yourself to take a full, deep breath, at peace held in your husband's arms.
taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid
#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x reader#rafe x oc#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x oc#rafe drabble#rafe one shot#rafe imagine#rafe blurb#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron blurb
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Moonstruck
a/n: im going to try a new format for one-shots bc i dont like how my old one looked
Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul
"He's staring at you!" Your friend, Zoe, whisper-shouted in a singsong tone.
"He's such a moron," you grumbled, focused on finishing your assignment.
"Y/N, c'mon," Zoe turned to you with a serious look on her face. "You should totally just give him a chance. He's got the hots for you, hundred and twenty percent," your friend patted herself on the back.
You sighed, "That's ridiculous," before turning over to look at Sukuna for yourself.
And as your friend has said, he was already staring at you. He rested his head on his fist, and delivered a sultry look your way.
You cocked your head to the side, as if to say, what?
Sukuna mouthed back, you know what, before he lifted his head from his fist, and flipped you off.
Speechless, you gawked at the pink-haired man.
"He is so into you, girl."
"He is so not," you muttered, turning back to face your friend.
"But Y/N," she whined, "you guys are literally so cute together. Combining both of your genes will literally make the best babies."
"He's such an oaf, the most annoying man-child I've ever met," you rolled your eyes, before shaking your head.
At this point, Zoe just gave up on her matchmaking abilities, and rested her head on the desk beside yours.
All the while — across the classroom — Sukuna's twin brother, Yuuji, was no different from Zoe.
Yuuji wiggled his eyebrows at his older brother, "I see the way you look at her. Ooooh, does my cold-hearted brother have a crush?"
Sukuna glared down at Yuuji, who was making kissy faces and noises, "I should've eaten you in the womb."
Yuuji immediately dropped his act, "How dare you."
The rest of the class went by quickly; your friend said she had something to do so you just packed up your stuff.
Minutes after you left the room and entered the hallway, you were roughly pulled into what you assumed was a janitor's closet.
You heard the door lock behind you.
Even in the dark, you could still cleary make out two crimson eyes staring back at you.
"Sukuna. Why are we here?"
"Don't play dumb," he walked towards you as you kept on backing away, until your back met the wall. "God, you're so fucking annoying."
Your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, and you saw Sukuna lean down towards you, your noses barely apart. Your breathing quickened.
"I can't stop thinking about you. You've been in my head all day," Sukuna narrowed his eyes at you.
"And just, what are you going to do that?"
Something snapped in Sukuna, he didn't even bother holding back.
You felt one of his hands roughly grip your waist, while the other tangled itself in your hair. He breathed in your scent; it was intoxicating for him.
He forced his lips onto you like an animal, before biting your bottom lip, drawing blood. You gasped, and he took the opportunity to shove his tongue inside.
This wasn't new to either of you, you've been in this little arrangement of yours for quite some time now. Albeit your friends know nothing of it; which is probably best.
"Sukuna," you giggled against his lips.
"Mm, you're so beautiful. Just can't get enough of you."
Your noses brushed against each other.
"Hah—" You found it hard to breathe.
Sukuna pulled your hair, emitting a squeal from you.
"Sukuna, please, I can't—" You felt tears sting your eyes, your mascara smeared over your cheeks.
He pressed his lips against yours, "Just for a little more. You can take that, right?"
You fervently nodded, although you felt a little dazed, and out of your mind.
The seconds passed by slowly, and the minutes passed by even slower, until Sukuna finally decided he was satisified.
He pulled away, and smirked to himself, looking at your half-lidded eyes, your mascara stained face, your lips stuck out in a pout. And as cocky as he was, Sukuna couldn't deny he was also out of breath.
Panting, you said, "You're such a jerk."
"Sure, sweetheart." Sukuna wiped your lipgloss off of his now shining lips.
"Serious, 'Kuna. You need to learn to let me breathe."
Sukuna rolled his eyes, "Pfft — as if you weren't the one provoking me."
You scoffed, and fixed your hair — or, well, attempted to, at least.
Sukuna adjusted his pants, and ruffled his unruly hair, before moving his hand to unlock the closet. You stood behind him in anticipation.
A beat passed.
"Well? What's taking you so long? Don't know how to unlock a door?" You teased, but when Sukuna didn't retaliate, you soon realized the direness of the situation at hand.
"It's not unlocking," Sukuna turned to face you, confusion mixed in his tone.
"I see that, dumbass," you muttered, sliding down the wall into a sitting position.
You were going to be here for a while.
What could you do to pass time?
#sukuna x reader#ryomen x reader#sukuna x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#sukuna fluff#im so sick and ill#but i will never be sick of writing sukuna
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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 6
Warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler
Summary: Steve finally gets the answer to a question that has been haunting him for days.
Word count: 6k+
A/N: @belokhvostikova remember the ask you sent me about the idea with the denim jacket? I had to include it in this chapter, so thank you hehe <;3
series masterlist
-
Steve’s phone kept ringing all day, since the early morning hours. He doesn’t know if it was her or his mom, he didn’t bother to get up and check. At some point, the doorbell rang twice, he didn’t get up to open it either. He wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to see anyone except for you. The thought of you just made him cry harder and made him feel more pathetic about himself – he kept reminding himself that it was him who fucked it all up.
He never felt such self hatred for himself the way he does now. All day, he laid in bed thinking about you and all the things that happened that led him here, getting drunk at a bar he used to hate, wallowing in self pity while he knocks back one drink after the other after throwing his fake ID on the counter.
How will he keep going?
Steve downs his fourth drink of the night and slides the empty glass over to the bartender, asking for another one.
The man gives him a look of concern, eying Steve for a moment.
“Just.. please,” Steve mumbles.
The bartender sighs, shaking his head, he mumbles something under his breath but still, he picks up the bottle and pours the whiskey into the glass, “you’re getting water after this one, son.”
“I have water at home,” Steve says. He reaches for the glass and slides it back towards himself. He leans his elbow on the counter and looks around the mostly empty room. Some rock song is playing in the background, one he doesn’t recognize. There’s a heavy cloud of smoke in the corner of the room where two men are sitting, laughing at some jokes that probably aren’t funny as they smoke their cigarettes and drink their beer.
The door opens and in walks the guy that is probably one of the most irritating people at Hawkins High – to him, at least. Steve bites back a groan when their eyes lock. He turns back around, avoiding eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he sees him walking towards the bar.
“Hey Tony.”
Steve lifts his head a little to see the Bartender smiling.
“Hey Ed, how’s it going?”
Eddie drums his fingers against the wooden counter, he looks around the room, “good, uh, have you seen my notebook? I’ve been looking for it everywhere but I can’t find it – I even cleaned out my van, can you believe it?”
Tony chuckles, “was about time you cleaned out that thing, boy.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, snorting, “yeah, well I’m busy.”
“With what?”
Eddie pretends to think as he raises his brows and looks up at the ceiling, “well, working my ass off so I don’t have to repeat senior year again, I recently found a good tutor,” Eddie smirks, “got myself a muse to help me write the song texts,” Eddie wiggles his brows, making the older man laugh, “working on a new campaign. Oh and of course, how could I forget, comforting the broken hearted – you know, just the usual,” he shrugs as his eyes flicker over to Steve for a moment.
“What a busy man you are, Eddie,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. He throws the towel on the counter, “I’ll take a look in the back.”
“Thanks man,” Eddie smiles, watching him disappear in the hallways. He turns his head to look at Steve.
“What is King Steve doing at the Hideout?”
Steve turns to face him and Eddie raises his brows in surprise, “damn, you look like shit, man.” Eddie says. Taking in the puffy eyes and the dark circles beneath them, he almost feels bad for him. His hair looks messy, not as perfectly done the way it always is.
“Get lost, freak.”
“Always the douchebag,” Eddie mumbles, rolling his eyes.
Steve turns away, he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, swallowing the bitterness.
“Are you pre drinking for the dance tomorrow or are you just drowning your sorrows in alcohol because you finally realized what a piece of shit you are?” Eddie asks. Not being able to hold back.
Steve frowns, he turns to face him. There is something in Eddie’s eyes that Steve can’t read.
“What the hell is your problem?” He asks. Not understanding the anger that is directed at him. They never liked each other but they never attacked each other either. Steve avoided him, he never had the jock’s back when they bullied him but he never really did anything about it either.
Eddie looks at him for a moment. He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it. He sighs and looks away but Steve keeps staring at him. A weird feeling takes over him when he looks down at the jacket Eddie is wearing. His heart stops and his face pales.
It’s that jacket. The one that has been in your room all week. It’s just a normal dark denim jacket, it could just be a similar one, he tells himself. But the Metallica pin on the sleeve is the exact same one that he had seen on the jacket in your room.
Eddie smells like cigarettes and weed, the cologne that he can smell even from a distance is the same one that he had smelled on you. Realization floods through him in a cold wave.
Eddie Munson is the stoner Billy had talked about?
Eddie Munson is the guy you have been seeing?
How did you even meet him?
You never even talked to him when you were still with him.
“You got lucky, Ed,” Tony says, holding up Eddie’s notebook, “you gotta take better care of your things.”
Eddie chuckles, feeling relief. He takes the notebook and sighs, “I know, I know,” he mumbles and steps back, “I’ll see you on Tuesday, Tony.”
“Tell your old man to come by too.”
“Yes sir,” Eddie salutes, grinning at the older man, he takes another look at Steve, who stares into blank space as he holds the half empty glass in his hand. Sighing, he turns around and leaves.
Steve snaps out of his thoughts, he reaches for the wallet in his back pocket and picks out a fifty dollar bill. He throws it on the counter and puts his wallet back into place, he grabs his jacket and makes his way out of the bar, following Eddie.
“Hey! This is too much, kid!”
“Keep the change,” Steve mumbles before he stumbles out into the cold. He clumsily puts on his jacket. The cold air hits him harshly and he suddenly feels much tipsier than he did while he was in there.
Eddie stands by his van, the notebook is tucked under his arm, his hand is cupped over the cigarette that is between his lips as he lights it up.
“Hey!” Steve calls out to him. He stumbles through the snow. He blinks, trying to get rid of the blurriness in his eyes.
Eddie turns around to face him, a curious look residing on his face. He blows the smoke into the other direction and leans against his van.
“What do you want, Harrington?”
Steve stops in front of him. The wind feels harsh on his skin, not even the thick jacket does anything to shield him from the cold. How Eddie is able to walk around with a denim jacket and not freeze to death makes him wonder.
“W-Where did you get that jacket?” He asks. Not knowing what else to ask now that he stands in front of him.
Eddie stares at him with a serious look on his face, eyeing him up and down. “Why?” He asks. “You wanna buy it?”
Steve furrows his brows, he shakes his head, “no?”
“Why do you wanna know?”
Steve’s mind is a little hazy, he feels more drunk than tipsy, right now.
“You’re the stoner.”
Eddie raises his brows, his dark eyes flash with amusement and confusion, “the stoner?” He chuckles and takes another drag from his cigarette. “They usually call me a drug dealer but sure, I’m also a stoner – sometimes.”
Steve shakes his head. “A-Are you with y/n?”
Eddie tilts his head. “With y/n?”
“Are you hooking up with her?” Steve asks, angrily.
A knowing look takes over Eddie’s expression. He pulls back and sighs in annoyance.
“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I don’t take advantage of vulnerable girls. And not everything is about sex,” he glares at him. He feels irritated by Steve and by the way he looks so confused about this revelation.
“Then what is it about?” He slurs. Throwing his hands up.
“Jesus, you’re a real douchebag. Is that all you think about? Sex?” He asks. “Can’t two people that like each other just be friends?”
The look on his face tells him no. For some reason, Steve can’t comprehend that thought. How can Eddie be your friend and not want you? He always wanted you. Ever since you were little kids. He always loved you. He always wanted you to be his – until he didn’t.
Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes, he throws the cigarette into the snow and walks away. The sound of Steve’s keys jingling makes him halt in his tracks though. He closes his eyes, annoyance rushes through him. He doesn’t like Steve, he never did and after what he did to you, he started liking him even less but you are his friend and you still care about him. He takes a deep breath and turns around.
“Put those keys away, dude.”
“Huh?” Steve mumbles. Looking up in confusion.
“You’re not driving home like that,” he says. Pointing to his drunken state, he watches Steve trip over a small pile of snow. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve laughed at him. “Get in the van, I’ll drive you home.”
Steve looks at his car, knowing he is in no state to drive himself but he refuses to get into a car with Eddie Munson.
“I’ll walk.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you let the freak drive you home.”
It’s not about that, it’s about you.
Steve looks at Eddie, who stares at him in annoyance.
“Get in the car, dude. She’d kick my ass if she knew that I let you drive home like this.”
Steve looks down for a moment. He takes a few deep breaths and nods. He puts the keys back in his pocket and opens the door, careful not to slip on the icy ground, he looks down and gets into the van.
Eddie jumps into the driver's seat and closes the door. He throws the notebook on the windshield and puts the key into the ignition, startling Steve with the loud music when he starts the car. He scrunches his face up and turns down the volume, “shit, my bad.”
Steve’s heart is pumping in his chest, sighing, he opts to look out the window after putting the seatbelt on.
“Your music sucks.”
“The audacity you have, Harrington,” Eddie scoffs. “Here I am being nice, inviting you into my van and you dare to insult the best music that there is!” He says dramatically.
Eddie hits the buttons, turning on the radio instead, Heroes by David Bowie starts playing, “here, just for you, King Steve.” He snorts. Not knowing that this will turn out to be a bad idea. Steve tenses up when he hears the song but Eddie doesn’t notice, he is too focused on the street as he backs out of the parking spot.
The song takes him back to last year, back to you.
“If you had to give us – our relationship a song, which one would it be?” You asked him as you sat on his lap.
“A Song?" He asked, chuckling.
You nodded with a smile on your face as you looked through your new polaroid pictures that you have taken with him in the snow. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and tightened his grip on your waist.
“Uh– probably, Heroes.”
“By David Bowie?”
“Yeah.”
You nodded, humming. For a moment, it was silent between the two of you, you placed the polaroids back on the table and turned to face him.
“Isn’t it sad though?”
Steve shrugged, not thinking as deeply as you did.
“He sings,” you cleared your throat and looked at him shyly. “And you, you can be mean,
and I, I'll drink all the time. 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day. We can be heroes for ever and ever. What d'you say?”
Steve was smiling at you, his heart was fluttering in his chest and you, you were blushing by the time you were done singing.
He poked your waist and leaned in to kiss your cheek, giving you one of his rare soft moments. “Exactly, he sings ‘we’re lovers’.”
“You are not listening to the rest of the song, Steve!”
“Then keep going.”
“No,” you giggled.
“Please,” he whispered, pouting. “I love your voice.”
You rolled your eyes, playfully. You kissed his cheek and began to sing again, clearly loving the sweet moment between the two of you when he watched you with soft eyes. He cleared his throat and picked you up, laughing at the squeal that fell from your lips, he leaned in to steal a kiss before he placed your feet on the ground. He grabbed your hairbrush from your desk and held it up to his lips.
“I, I will be king and you, you will be queen.” He sang.
You giggled and walked backwards as he began to walk you towards your bed.
“Though nothing will drive them away. We can be Heroes, just for one day.” He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the rest of the lyrics. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, “and we kissed, as though nothing could fall.”
“You forgot the rest of the lyrics–” he cut you off with his lips on yours, kissing you passionately. He pulled your body so close against his, he could feel your heartbeat.
Now he feels his heart breaking in his chest.
Maybe it’s the ache in his chest, maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe it’s just a combination of both that makes him break down in Eddie Munson’s van. Startling the man who was bobbing his head to the music until he heard Steve’s quiet sob. Stopping at the red light, he furrows his brows and looks over at Steve.
“Uh– you good?” He asks. He feels a little stupid to ask him that, clearly, Steve is feeling anything but good. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and presses his lips together. How does he comfort a man that he doesn’t even like?
Steve cries softly, the shame isn’t there yet, right now, he doesn’t care that he is crying in front of Eddie who could tell everyone that King Steve broke down in his car while listening to David Bowie.
“Need a tissue?” Eddie asks even though he knows he doesn’t have any in his van.
Steve just shakes his head, clearly wanting to be left alone.
Eddie nods to himself, taking a deep breath, he sighs. Eddie knows why he is crying, it doesn’t take him long to figure it out. The moment he saw him getting drunk at the Hideout, he just knew.
He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive over to Steve’s house. The music and Steve’s soft cries sound through the van. A part of Eddie pities Steve, the other part doesn’t – after all, it’s all his own fault.
He pulls up into Steve’s driveway, still remembering the way to his house from the last party he threw back in august when he had first talked to you. He stops the car and turns down the music a little.
“We’re here.”
Steve nods. He wipes the tears away and he reaches for the door handle but he doesn’t leave, not yet. His eyes fall on the note lying on the floor, it must’ve slipped out from his notebook. He instantly recognizes your handwriting and his heart drops a little when he realizes that you are writing them for someone else now. It’s not affectionate or romantic, the note only says ‘good luck on the test today. Can’t wait for the milkshakes you promised!’ Next to a smiley.
“I miss her.”
Eddie didn’t expect to hear those words from him. He leans back in his seat.
“I-I miss her so much,” he whispers. “I-I don’t know what to do without her. I want her back.”
“You have a girlfriend, man. You left y/n for her,” Eddie mumbles. “Do you even know what you want?”
Steve feels the bile rising in his throat. He feels sick.
“I do now, b-but it’s too late.”
Eddie glances at him. The look of sadness and the tears are genuine and so are his words but there isn’t anything that he could say that could make Steve feel better. He doesn’t deserve you, you are too good for him and you have suffered enough to give him another chance to break you again.
“I don’t know what you wanna hear, dude. You broke her heart and you did it in such a fucked up way too, there’s no coming back from that.”
Steve isn’t sure about what he wanted to hear but it’s definitely not that.
“Just leave her alone, you’re only making things worse,” Eddie sighs as he thinks about you. “Go home, Steve.”
Steve sniffles, he opens the door and nods.
“And don’t ruin the night for her tomorrow.”
Steve’s eyes widen, he looks at him through the tears. “She's coming?”
Eddie nods, “yeah, her friends convinced her to come.” He can see the look in Steve’s eyes, it’s the same one he sees in your eyes. He loves you, which makes everything so much more confusing. Why did he leave you for someone else when he loves you so much?
Steve blinks. He looks down for a moment, staring at the note that makes his heart ache. “Oh okay,” he whispers. “T-Thanks for driving me home.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, this is the most kindness he had ever shown to him.
“Don’t mention it,” he mumbles. He narrows his eyes at him. Steve doesn’t move yet. The look on his face tells him that he wants to say more.
“Spit it out, dude.”
Steve looks up. Tears continue to brim in his eyes, the words are strangled in his throat. He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to stay calm.
“T-Take care of her?”
Eddie wants to tell him that you are capable of taking care of yourself but he decides against it. He nods. Even though he can’t understand why Steve did what he did, he can imagine the self hatred and the sadness he is feeling. A flicker of sympathy flashes in Eddie’s eyes.
“I will.”
Steve almost breaks down when he thinks of your words again, of the way you cried when you begged for him to leave, when you called him bullshit.
He walks away when he feels like breaking down again.
He fumbles with the keys, almost dropping them when his hands begin to shake. He manages to open the door, he steps inside and closes it. Leaning against it, he drops the floor and buries his face in his hands, a broken sob leaves his lips.
He knows he has to let you go, the way you let him go but how?
How?
-
You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. You apply the red lipstick that Chrissy convinced you to get when you stopped by the drug store after you bought the dress that you had caught your eye the last time you went shopping with them. A black, glittery dress. It’s not too tight but it’s not a wide one either, though it fits your body perfectly. The straps are thin and it has a cut on the side. You love it. It’s not something you would usually wear, you always opted for the colorful dresses but, you feel like it’s time to switch things up.
How you let them convince you to come to the dance after all? You have no idea but the thought of spending another night filled with tears made you feel miserable.
Heather is standing behind you with the curling iron as she finishes off the rest of your hairstyle.
Some Christmas song is playing on the radio, the room smells like a mix of hairspray and perfume.
“Can I ask you something?” You ask as you stop applying the lipstick.
She hums, glancing at you through your mirror.
Heather purses her lips, she pulls the curling iron away from your hair and twists the wave.
“Is it just me or is Chrissy being weird towards me?”
“What do you mean?” She asks. But you can see the knowing look in her eyes, you know she – they are both not telling you something.
She runs her fingers through your hair and smooths down your waves and applies more hairspray.
“She’s just, I don’t know. I feel like she’s keeping something from me,” you mumble. “And she seemed so sad when I agreed to go with you.”
Heather hesitates to speak up. You can tell that she is trying to come up with a lie.
“She’s probably just sad because she has to go with Jason Carver.”
You look down at your painted nails and nod, “yeah, I guess.”
“Which I totally get, who would want to go with him?” Heather tries to change the topic, you know she is.
“Literally no one,” you snort. “But he will probably be the new King of Hawkins High once Steve and Billy graduate and the naive freshman girls will throw themselves at him,” you say with a disgusted look on your face.
“God, that’s a disgusting thought,” Heather says. “Let’s talk about something else – look at you,” she smirks as she leans down, placing her finger under your chin, she raises your head, “queen of Haw–”
“Don’t say that,” you groan as you tilt your head up to look at her.
She chuckles and ruffles your hair a little. “You look amazing, now get your ass into that dress and let’s go. Maybe Munson will show up for you and steal you for a dance,” she wiggles her brows.
You roll your eyes but you can’t fight the smile off your face.
“Shut up,” you mumble. You reach for your half finished drink. Maybe it’s not a good idea to drink alcohol but you need it, right now. You don’t plan on getting drunk, just a little tipsy to make it through the night.
You both finish getting ready, you put your dresses on and take a few polaroid pictures in front of the fairy lights in your room. You throw a mint into your mouth and spray more perfume on yourself, hoping that your mom won’t smell the wine on you.
She doesn’t notice it or at least, it seems like she doesn’t. She takes more pictures of you and Heather in front of the Christmas tree before you leave.
The school hall is bustling with people, loud music is playing and everything is decorated in gold, red and green colors – fitting the Christmas season. Your arm is linked with Heather’s. She seems excited, you feel overwhelmed.
The lights are flashing, girls in colorful dresses rush past you with their dates. You look around, trying to spot Chrissy but you don’t see her anywhere. You sigh, the first few minutes of a big event are always the most awkward ones.
Where do you stand? Where do you sit? Who do you talk to? Is it too early to dance? Is it too early to leave?
“Hey, are you okay?” Heather asks.
You nod, smiling at her.
“You seem a little overwhelmed.”
“I’m fine, I-I just need something to drink.”
“A drink?” A deeper voice asks. One that instantly makes you roll your eyes.
Billy steps in front of you with a smirk on his face, he eyes you up and down before he looks over at Heather, checking her out as well. He is wearing a tux, the button down underneath the jacket is almost fully unbuttoned.
“You look slutty, Billy.” You joke, “you’re lucky Mrs. Myers isn’t around or you’d be sent home for violating the dress code.”
He chuckles darkly, leaning closer to you, he holds up one finger, “the slutty look is exactly what I was going for.”
“As always,” you snort.
“Do you wanna dance?” Billy asks you.
“No thanks but Heather wants to dance.”
She turns to you with wide eyes and red cheeks.
“I know you want to,” you whisper into her ear before you pull away and place her hand into Billy’s, who smirks at you.
“I’ll drown you in the punch if you don’t treat her well.”
He only laughs in amusement, clearly not taking the threat seriously.
“Y/n?” Heather glares at you.
“Have fun, babe.”
You know all about her not so secret crush on Billy – she is good at hiding it but you saw right through it.
You make your way over to the snack table. Waving at some of the girls from the cheer squad who are taking pictures with their dates.
A huge bowl is in the middle of the table, filled with red liquid and fresh fruit. You wonder if someone spiked it with alcohol yet. You pour some of it into a cup and take a sip. Definitely spiked. You down the rest of the drink and pour yourself a second cup.
“Hey.”
You freeze. You stare down at your drink. Yeah, you definitely need the alcohol tonight. You haven’t talked to him since that night, you sat next to him during English class today and you had submitted the essay together but you didn’t talk and you hoped that it would stay that way. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore.
“Careful with the punch, Tommy spiked it.”
You turn around to face him, his eyes widen a little when he takes in the sight of you. He looks you up and down, not in the same way Billy did but in a way that leaves your skin crawling and your heart racing.
He is wearing a black tuxedo with a red bow tie. His hair looks amazing as always but his eyes are filled with sadness.
“Good,” you mumble as you drink the spiked punch.
“Y-You look beautiful,” Steve says. His heart flutters, you steal his breath away. The dark eyeshadow makes your eye color more prominent. Your red lips look so kissable and the dress looks like it was made for you. You are perfect.
“Where’s your girlfriend, Steve?” You sigh. You refuse to look into his eyes, knowing that it will only make things worse.
He blinks, furrowing his brows. He looks over your shoulder to where she’s standing with Jonathan, smiling at him.
“She’s uh–” he stops talking when he sees you walking away. He sighs, clenching his hand into a fist, “shit..”
You already feel like going home – you knew you would run into him, you still weren’t prepared, you never are. You are sick of the feeling he leaves you with whenever you see him. You are so over it.
You take a seat at your assigned table and look around, finally spotting Chrissy in the crowd. She’s dancing with Jason, you can see the forced smile even from a mile away.
You can’t stand him. You always hated the way he treats others – the way he thinks that he is so much better than everyone else and the way he thinks he can have anyone he wants. The way he uses Mrs. Cunningham’s liking towards him to force himself into Chrissy’s life, knowing that she doesn’t actually like him.
You relax a little when you see Heather heading towards Chrissy, pulling her away from Jason so that they can dance together. You lean back in the chair and sip on your drink.
You wish you would have stayed at home.
You wish you would have listened to Eddie when he said that this sucks.
You feel like a loser, sitting by yourself at this empty table, sipping one drink after the other as your eyes continuously move back to him. You see him with her and it breaks your heart all over again. By now, you should be used to it and you were – you have gotten used to this. To him not being yours anymore, to him loving someone else, to him being with someone else but then he turned everything upside down.
His confession left you in shambles. He had broken everything, again. All the strength you have gathered since the day he left you, he took it all away from you with a few words and a kiss that almost happened.
He loves you, that’s what he said. But he is here, holding her in his arms, kissing her as though he didn’t try to kiss you, two nights ago. He is dancing with her, whispering things into her and holding her tightly.
None of it makes sense to you.
If he loves you so much, then why is he dancing with her as though nothing ever happened?
Why is he still with her?
Is she a rebound now or were you just the backup plan all along?
The girl he’d come back to once things with her go downhill?
Are they already going downhill?
Is that why he told you he still loves you?
So that he has someone to come back to?
You feel so miserable. The longer you stare at him. You begin to feel worse and worse.
Not even a dance with your friends helps you lift your mood. Not even the compliments and the nice things that people have said to you tonight, make you feel better. Nothing makes you feel better but you force a smile on your face, a happy one. The way you always do and you dance with Heather and Chrissy, holding their hands and pretending to have the time of your life when all you wanna do is go home and cry yourself to sleep.
It’s when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers with a sad expression on your face, ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go home, that your night takes a turn for the better.
You don’t hear the footsteps coming your way, you are too busy looking at all the happy couples. Someone clears their throat.
“May the Master of Dungeons have a dance with the ethereal Queen of Hawkins High?”
Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you straighten up and turn to look at Eddie who playfully bows in front of you with a smile on his face, getting a few weird looks from the other, which neither of you care about.
A giggle falls from your lips, “Eddie!”
“Come on, give me your hand, Queen.”
You laugh and place your hand in his. He pulls you up and smiles at you when your eyes lock. “Look at you,” he beams. He raises your hand over your head, “give me a twirl,” he winks.
You roll your eyes, playfully. Giving him the twirl that he asked for, you can’t help but giggle when he begins to whistle.
“You look beautiful, sweetheart!”
He grabs your waist when you stumble a little. He instantly smells the alcohol on you.
“Thank you, Eddie.”
He eyes you with a smile on his face, “love the smokey eyes and the dress – honestly, you look like a witchy fairy.”
“A witchy fairy?” You laugh, tilting your head.
He puts his hand over his heart, “I mean that as a compliment – a badass witchy, fairy, shit, I’m gonna have to create a character based on you now.”
You shake your head, laughing at the concentrated look on his face. He is wearing a white button down, a few buttons are left undone, one of his tattoos is peeking out from beneath the shirt, and a silver chain is around his neck. His curly hair looks as good as always.
“You look amazing, Eddie.”
He raises his brows in surprise, his dark eyes light up.
“Thank you, badass fairy witch,” he winks. “Look, I stole these pants from Wayne, I have none without holes in them,” he laughs, pointing to the black pants he is wearing.
You can’t even help but giggle.
“I thought this isn’t your thing,” you say. Gesturing to the dance.
He shrugs, “yeah well, I thought you could use a dance partner.”
Your gaze softens. A feeling of warmth and comfort rushes through you. “You came for me?”
He holds your hand tighter, “who else would I come here for?” He asks as he looks into your big eyes.
“My knight in shining armor,” you tease.
He snorts at your words, “come on.” He says as he pushes you in front of him and leads you into the middle of the dance floor, pushing some jock out of the way. You can feel the eyes on you, you can see the weird looks from the cheerleaders when they see you with Eddie. It only makes you scoff at them.
A squeal leaves your lips when Eddie suddenly twirls you again, laughing when you hold onto his hand tightly. He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans in, “let me guess, you had some of that spiked punch?” He whispers into your ear.
"Absolutely,” you giggle and turn around to face him. You place your hands on his shoulders.
“Bad girl,” he smirks, tapping your nose.
“I learned from the best.” You tap his nose back, making him laugh.
Steve watches you and Eddie with an irritated look on his face. You seem so carefree and happy with him. So familiar. Like you have known each other for a long time already. You melt into his touch so easily and laugh at whatever he is whispering into your ear.
The feeling in his chest is sickening. He knows it’s jealousy. He can’t do anything about it though. The girl in his arms is his, you aren’t – not anymore.
Every breath you take by The Police starts playing. Some leave the dance floor, some stay to slow dance with their partner. Steve pulls Nancy closer and looks over her shoulder to see what you will do.
Eddie pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around him, you lay your head on his chest, melting into him so easily. It breaks Steve’s heart a little. He feels tense, it’s hard to see you with someone else, even when Eddie said that there is nothing but friendship between the two of you, it certainly looks more than just that to Steve.
You don’t even notice the weird looks you are getting from the people around you. You are only focused on him. The thought of you and Eddie somehow hurts more than the thought of you and Billy. Because Billy would be nothing more than a hookup but Eddie? Eddie is a good guy, one who will treat you well and love you the way he couldn’t.
“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks as she lifts her head to look at him.
“Yeah,” he mumbles with a frown on his face. “Why?”
Her blue eyes are filled with confusion, she shrugs, “you seem tense.”
“I’m fine, Nance,” he says, softly.
“Okay,” she smiles.
When she lays her head on his chest, he squeezes her and looks back up. His breath hitches in his throat when his eyes lock with yours as you rest your chin on Eddie’s shoulder, who’s back is turned towards him. For a moment, you look at each other. Steve’s heart begins to beat faster in his chest, the longer you look at each other. He longs for you. This, all of this, feels so wrong. He shouldn’t be here with her and you shouldn’t be there with him.
But while his eyes soften, your eyes harden.
His are filled with longing and sadness.
Yours are filled with indifference.
You look at each other for a few long seconds and then you take one final look at him before you tear your eyes away from him. Somehow, that felt like a stab to his heart because that moment felt like the end. The realization that it is truly over makes his blood run cold. He feels paralyzed by the pain that he had caused himself.
Eddie tightens his hold on you when he feels how tense you are, he looks down at you with a look of concern in his eyes.
“Do you want to get out of here?”
"Yes, please."
next part
only tagging friends & mutuals
@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fic#stranger things fic#stranger things angst
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I recently found ur page and omfg I spent hours yesterday reading all ur work!!!! What a lil fic of Sirius and reader but like pre relationship where she's in the hospital (u can pick reason) and she refuses to see anyone and just asks for Sirius
Thanks for requesting my love!
cw: hospital, mention of stitches
Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 906 words
Sirius feels awkward and stiff as he pulls back the curtain, though for all he knows you’re too hopped up on pain meds to even know it’s him. Really, that’s the only reasonable explanation for the directions the nurse had just delivered: “She said she’ll only see Sirius right now.”
He has no clue why you’d ask for him. He’s probably the least comforting of your roommates, and as soon as he catches sight of you, knees tented in front of your chest and hands clasped around your ankles, his worry for your choice deepens.
Someone’s tried to clean you up, but they’ve done a shit job of it. There’s still blood crusted on your chin, and your face is blotchy, your cheeks smeared with dark gray like you’d wiped across them with your hands only to spread your makeup off to the sides. James had said you’d cried the whole car ride to A&E, but Sirius still wasn’t prepared to see you like this. His chest feels hollow and achy.
“Hey,” you say, voice scratchy. If hearts have strings, you’re playing his like a fiddle.
“Hey, doll.” He goes for a smile as he sits on the edge of your little cot, managing to sound halfway normal. “Come here often?”
You start to grin, then stop like it hurts. Sirius stops, too.
“Yeah, you know,” you say, “now and then.”
“Don’t see why.” He makes a show of looking about him, at the papery blue curtain and beige-ish linoleum floors. “Place is sorta depressing.”
You roll your eyes, and Sirius’ heart lightens to see you in a better humor. “Yeah, I think I’ve judged my hangout poorly. I’m dying to get out of here.”
He’ll bet. You’ve been here hours longer than him. James had been the only one home with you when you’d tripped on the stairs and bitten through your lip, and Sirius and Remus had only found out when they’d gotten home and seen the note James left, his already scribbly handwriting worsened by haste and panic. By the time they’d arrived they’d missed most of the action (Sirius was secretly thankful for that) and James had filled them in before the nurse had come out to inform them that you’d gotten three stitches in your lip and summoned Sirius back.
“I can understand that.” He gives you his best approximation of James’ easygoing grin. “You ready to go home then, gorgeous?”
The shift is slight, but Sirius sees your bravado fade, a shyness entering your expression. “That’s actually why I wanted to see you,” you say.
“Yeah?” He doesn’t bother to hide his curiosity. “Why’s that?”
“Because I know you’ll be honest with me.”
He feels his eyebrows go up. “About what, doll?”
You shrink a bit, knees drawing closer to your chest. Your voice is small when you ask, “Is it awful? I mean, do I look awful?”
Ah. Sirius can see why you’d want him for this, but you’re wrong in your assumption. He’d absolutely lie to you if he needed to, just like Remus or James would in his place. But you’ve asked for him, so Sirius tries to do right by you.
“You could never look awful, dollface. Be sensible.” He squints his eyes teasingly, reaching for your ankle and giving it a reprimanding little shake. “It’s just a couple of stitches, you haven’t been warped unrecognizable.”
You frown, and it’s even more upsetting than usual. Your eyes look heart-breakingly insecure. “Are you sure?” you ask softly.
“Yeah, I’m fucking sure.” Sirius scoffs like you’re unbelievable. “You said it yourself, babe, I wouldn’t lie to you.” He definitely would, but there’ll never be an occasion for that. He can’t imagine you genuinely looking bad. “I can clean you up a bit, though, if you’d like.”
You blink. “Um, yeah. If you think it would help.”
“Brilliant. Sit tight.” Sirius gets up and starts going through drawers, sifting through medical supplies for something he can use.
“Fairly sure you’re not supposed to do that.” You sound like you’re trying not to smile.
“Fairly certain my taxes pay for this place, and they’ve left my best-looking roommate with a dirty face.” He finds a box of mini-wipes, turning back to you. “Don’t tell James I’ve said that.”
“Oh, I’m definitely tattling on you,” you tease, and Sirius is caught between feeling triumphant and worried that you look very near to grinning. He has no clue how easy it is to tear your stitches.
“What, you want us to match? That’s cruel, sweetheart.”
You roll your eyes. “He won’t punch you.”
Sirius huffs a laugh, holding you still with a hand on your jaw as he wipes gently at your chin. “You haven’t known him as long as I have.”
Your brows flick up as you meet his eyes, disbelieving. “Our James? You really think our James would hit you for saying he’s not the best looking roommate?”
“Well, not if you’re in front of me,” he muses. He throws out the first wipe, ripping open another. “He already feels bad for you, so maybe that can work in my favor. If you are going to tell him, lean on me as we walk out, okay, doll? Give me a fighting chance.”
The corner of your lips twist as you close your eyes and Sirius wipes sideways across your cheek. “Yeah, fair enough. I’ll do my best for you.”
#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x fem!reader#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x you#sirius black x self insert#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanfic#sirius black fic#sirius black fluff#sirius black hurt/comfort#sirius black imagine#sirius black drabble#sirius black scenario#sirius black blurb#sirius black oneshot#sirius black one shot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#marauders era#hp marauders#marauders x reader
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May I get head canons of Kaveh, Bennett, and Freminet getting hit with some sorta sex pollen so reader blows their backs out to save their lives? Big Fuck-or-Die Vibes
You sure can! Reader is a dom/top male as usual~
All characters are depicted as 20+ as well~
-
Kaveh
Just my luck, he thinks as a blast of pollen hits him directly in the face. Nothing good ever comes from touching strange plants...
The effects come on quickly, sending tingles throughout his entire body, the feeling is especially noticeable in the area between his legs
Kaveh calls out your name, stumbling towards you and clinging onto your arms for stability. You're understandably worried and reach out to cup his face when he suddenly drops to his knees, humping at your leg desperately
You stare at him wide-eyed, watching him whimper as he clutches your pants tightly, begging for you to fuck him
Kaveh cries until you finally do just that, not even bothering to fully remove either of your articles of clothing. Instead, you simply pull his pants down so that you have access to his hole, and pull your own down far enough to shove your cock into him
His legs tremble as you ram into him relentlessly, overtaken by some unfathomable pleasure coursing through his veins
The only thoughts floating around in that pretty little head are “need cock” and “needtocumneedtocumneedtocum!! ”
You end up fucking him for a while as the effects of the mysterious pollen persist for hours. Just pounding his wet hole over and over, making his pretty back arch so far off of the ground, cumming again and again as he cries and moans loud enough to lose his voice that night
Kaveh is so incredibly embarrassed about it the next day...he doesn't fully understand what came over him and apologizes profusely 😞
Bennett
He doesn't think much of it at first. After all, he's used to things like this happening, well aware of his terrible luck
But he quickly realizes that something is wrong. A little bit of pollen shouldn't cause him to think of being railed by your thick cock out of nowhere...
Bennett tries to hold it together, not wanting to bother you with something so lewd all of a sudden, but he soon gives in and tells you about his thoughts
You're a bit concerned about why this happened and what kind of plant could do such a thing, but you save those thoughts for later, swiftly pinning Bennett to the wall of some ruins and removing his shorts
If you don't want to get caught by some poor adventurer passing by, you'll have to cover Bennett's mouth or create a makeshift gag because he is LOUD
He's wet literally everywhere. Drool running down his chin, cum dripping down his dick from multiple orgasms, his ass is wet and messy because you've been drilling into him for over an hour now, tears are probably running down his pretty cheeks as he's so overstimulated too
But he insists that you don't stop, clawing at the back of your shirt and screaming “yesyesyesyesyes—!! ” as you pound into him harder
Also embarrassed about it when he finally comes back to his senses. Your reassuring smile does ease his mind a little though 🧡
Freminet
You swam away for only a second, taking a picture of some pretty seashells before returning to your diving partner...only to find him swatting away some sort of goo? Spores? You weren't really sure, more concerned with helping Freminet to the surface
Quickly ascending to the surface world, the two of you found a secluded place to sit so that you could assess his condition
By that time though, the substance had already begun to work its magic. Freminet breathed heavily as his dick brushed against the fabric of his pants
You reached out a hand with the intent to feel his forehead, seeing as his cheeks were a deep crimson, but Freminet grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand down to his bulge. Immediately moaning and humping against your hand
Apologies spilled from his lips, simultaneously begging you to fuck him in the same breath. You were concerned, but quickly connected the dots
After finding a soft spot in the grass, you removed his clothing, slipping your pants off and pushing your cock into his ass
Freminet's hands dig into your arms as you force your length deeper inside of him, broken moans falling out of him as tears spill down his cheeks
He begs for you to go faster, fuck him harder, cum in him again, please? Just don't stop or he'll cry harder
His small body bounces with every thrust, surely there will be dark purple bruises covering his waist due to the vice grip you have on him
He'll be incredibly sore for the rest of the day, walking with a limp because of how hard you fucked him, probably still apologizing for asking you to do that so suddenly...
Freminet will also need tons of aftercare and reassurance, just be extra gentle with him for a few days 💙
Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3
Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!
#mailbox#my writing#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#genshin x reader#genshin impact#kaveh#genshin kaveh#kaveh smut#genshin bennett#bennett#bennett smut#freminet#freminet smut#sub bennett#sub kaveh#sub freminet#male reader#top reader#dom reader#requested#headcannons
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Care to Dance?
Inspired by @imfinereallyy’s post
Robin, Steve and Eddie planned this night for weeks. They drove up to Indianapolis to spend the evening at the gay bar. A place where they could be themselves and not worry.
Steve took a shot of vodka before turning around at the bar, facing the dance floor. He could see Robin speed talking to a girl about Nancy’s height, the girl gently playing with the edge of Robin’s jacket.
Eddie … well, he looked hot as ever. He was playing billiards in the corner of the bar with another guy, showing him how to angle the cue just right for the perfect hit. Steve could feel jealousy in the pit of his stomach, but he knew he wasn’t Eddie’s type.
Steve’s been harmlessly flirting with Eddie, putting himself out there on the ledge, only for Eddie to talk about some other guy he met in Indy. Steve wondered if this was the guy. If Eddie had planned this night so he could see his guy. It wasn’t wrong if he did. Steve just wished he knew so he could prepare himself for the heartbreak.
He knew Eddie wasn’t his, so it really shouldn’t be a problem, right?
“Hey, baby,” a deep voice said hotly against the shell for his ear. “How come a pretty thing like you is all alone tonight?”
“I’m not alone,” Steve said, turning to face the man — to face the dark, brown eyes, the devilish grin. “Not anymore. You want a drink?”
“I’d much rather see you on the dance floor,” the man said, lifting his chin. His grin still plastered across His face. “Or are you more interested in staring at that metalhead?”
“No, I’d like to. Dance, I mean,” Steve said, feeling his cheeks heat up. He didn’t realize he was that obvious for Eddie. The man put his hand on the small of Steve’s back as he lead him out to the dance floor. It started out innocent at first, arms raised, slowly wrapping around each other’s body as they danced to Depeche Mode. Eventually, Steve had his back pressed up against the man’s front. The man pressed a hot kiss against Steve’s skin. Suddenly, Steve realized he didn’t know the man’s name.
“I’m Steve,” he said, a little loud to be heard over the music.
“Dan — Hey!”
Steve felt Dan’s body yanked away from him. Steve turned to see Eddie standing in between him and Dan, now on the ground. He felt someone grab his arm, he yanked it — before realizing it was Robin holding onto him.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Dan spat.
“You,” Eddie snarled back, venom on his tongue. “You’re dancing on my friend.”
“Eddie —“
“Steve, I got it,” Eddie said over his shoulder, before turning his attention to Dan. “What gives you the right to dance on him like that?”
“I did,” Steve snapped, pulling himself out of Robin’s grip and stepping in front of Eddie. “He asked me to dance and I said yes. What gives, Eddie? What are you doing?”
“Protecting you,” Eddie wrinkled his brow, like it was obvious. “We know he isn’t your type, Steve.”
“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Steve snapped.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Eddie said.
“I don’t know what you have going on,” Dan interrupted, leaning against Steve. His lips were hot near his ear. “But Pretty Boy, you dump the metalhead, you know where to find me.”
“That’s it —“ Eddie nearly lunged forward to chase after Dan, stopped by Robin and Steve.
“Eddie, what the fuck is up with you?” Steve snapped. “We came out to have a good time and you’re ruining it.”
“I’m ruining it?” Eddie scoffed. “He was the one dancing against you! Does that not bother you?”
“No?” Steve wrinkled his nose. “I liked him.”
“Steve,” Robin said, stepping between the two, trying to calm the tension. “You can’t be leading him on like that.”
“Like what?” Steve asked, feeling his gut twist. He knew he was obvious with his crush on Eddie, but he would get over him. He could. If he just found the right person.
“Steve, you’re straight,” Robin said. “He’s probably thinking he was gonna take you home.”
“I’m … straight?” Steve repeated. “What planet are you from?”
“What?!” Eddie and Robin snapped at the same time. Steve looked between the two of them, his expression dropping.
“You guys thought I was straight?” Steve gaped. “I’m grinding on some guy and you think I’m straight?! We’re at a gay club, and you thought I was straight?”
“You’ve always just talked about girls,” Robin said. “We just —“ she looked at Eddie for help, but he provided none. He stood there, shocked, processing.
“Because the guy I want, doesn’t like me that way,” Steve groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m going for fresh air.”
He pushed past Robin and Eddie to the front of the bar and onto the street. He turned down the alleyway, leaning against the building. He took a deep breath, letting it out.
“Hey.”
Steve looked up at Eddie, offering a cigarette from the box.
“I’m sorry about ruining things with Dan,” Eddie said. “You wanna talk?”
“I just — thought you both knew,” Steve said, taking a cigarette. Eddie flicked his lighter, lighting Steve’s cigarette. “I thought I was obvious. And you even said that ‘Us, queers find each other.’”
“I did say that,” Eddie nodded. “I just thought you were safe, and not …”
“Bisexual,” Steve said, officially coming out. “I’m bisexual.”
“Proud of you,” Eddie said. “Now tell me about this guy you like. And why you don’t think he likes you.”
“He’s super cool. Bad ass,” Steve said, taking a drag of his cigarette. “I know I’m not his type.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve been flirting with him for weeks,” Steve said, putting his heart out on the line. If this failed, maybe Dan won’t mind letting him cry on his shoulder. “And he’s ignored all my advances.”
“Maybe he didn’t realize you were flirting with him,” Eddie said. “You know, maybe he thought you were straight?”
Steve’s eyes snapped to Eddie, attempting to read him. Eddie took a drag off his own cigarette.
“Maybe you could try again?” Eddie offered. Steve felt his heart beat rapidly against his chest.
“Eddie —“
“Yes,” Eddie breathed. “Whatever you want. Yes.”
“You,” Steve said. “I want you.”
Eddie crashed his lips against Steve’s in a hot, messy kiss. A little teethy, as they couldn’t help but smile and laugh. They broke away breathless.
“Come on, big boy,” Eddie said, pulling at Steve’s arm. “Let’s go dance.”
•••••
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Warm Me Up
Summary: Illyria is cold, Rhys has some ideas on how to stay warm.
Content Warnings: Smut; dirty talk; little bit of cursing.
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Illyria was a wasteland, nothing but frigid mountains and harsh winds, you'd never understood how anything survived here. Your mate had flown you in an hour ago, you'd immediately had to sit in front of the cabin's fireplace, smothered in blankets, a warm cup of tea in your hands to avoid your teeth chattering and your fingertips from turning blue. The boys were somehow training outside shirtless. You could see them from the window, sparring, even as the relentless wind continued to beat against the windows.
You furrowed deeper into your mountain of blankets, still so damned cold. How were they managing that? How had Cassian survived his childhood, alone and hungry in this for so long? Was there something built into Illyrians to help them survive?
You tapped a mental hand against the bond hesitantly, worried you might distract your mate and he'd get hurt... again. Rhys had gotten used to your random questions, but thd first couple of times had been so sudden he'd lost focus, Az had clipped him across the shoulder, drawing blood. It hadn't even scarred, had healed with the help of his powers in less than hour. He'd probably forgotten about it. You hadn't.
Your mate responded with a gentle caress against your mental shields, like he'd brushed a hand over you mind, urging you to come forward.
"Do Illyrians run hot?" You asked.
A dark chuckle ran across the bond, sending a shiver over your spine. "Why don't you come out here and find out?"
You rolled your eyes. "And freeze to death? No thank you."
"It's not even snowing yet.," he let your peer through his eyes, the landscape dripping from yesterday's rain, but it was more mud than anything.
"I've seen warmer places in the Winter Court."
"There are plenty of ways to stay warm up here," Rhys purred, his voice a playful caress against your mind. "You're welcome to join us in the birken when we're done."
"And leave the safety of my little nest by the fire? I'll have frostbite by the time I make it there."
"Give me five minutes." The bond snapped closed and then Cassian was screaming obscenities from where they were sparring near the side of the cabin.
"THAT'S CHEATING YOU BASTARD!" Azriel shouted.
"RHYSAND I CAN'T FUCKING SEE!"
You pulled the comforter off the top of your head to try and get a good look through the closest window, but there was nothing but darkness against the glass. It was still too early in the day for the sun to be going down, the darkness outside rattling against the windows like a harsh wind. Rhys very rarely unleashed that much power, but you felt your own flare to life in your chest at the sight of it. Like calls to like, and your starborn powers had always risen to the challenge it found in Night Triumphant.
It wasn't even a full five minutes before the back door was thrown open so fast the old wood cracked against the wall. The wind came in with it, making you burrow deeper into your mound of blankets to avoid it.
Rhys must have kicked off his boots at the door, because you heard it slam shut and then nothing until large hands settled on your blanket clad shoulders.
You jumped with a shriek of surprise that had your mate bending over the back of the couch to kiss your barely exposed forehead apologetically, his skin colder than the wind beating against the walls.
"Ack! You're an ice cube!" You hissed, twisting to get away.
He chuckled as he pulled away and went to the closet near the front door.
"Don't bother, I've already raided it," you warned.
He opened it anyway, then frowned at all the empty shelves. "You weren't kidding." His next move was to go to the stack of wood neatly organized by the fire place and throw more in, the blaze illuminating the sharp planes of his face. He wasn't wearing a shirt, training leathers hanging low on his hips, a fine sheen of sweat making his bronze skin glow in the firelight.
Under normal circumstances, you would have jumped right on him, ran your tongue over his abs, traced the swirl of ink across his chest. Something about him in leathers made you weak in the knees, all rational thought out the window. The only thing keeping you in place this time was the thought of loosing the little pocket of warmth you had created.
He felt your gaze of course, turning away from the fire to look at you. "Better?" His voice had gone down an octave, his pupils dilating.
"Little," you admitted, though him being so close, looking like that might have been more of a reason for the heat you were starting to feel than the fire.
He walked to you slowly, intently, violet eyes fixed on you.
Your heartbeat quickened in your chest as he knelt in front of you.
"Think you can make room for me in there?" He kept his hands on the top blanket of your little cocoon, waiting for permission.
"I don't know, how cold are you?" You teased; this would be the last little bit of your resolve.
He slid a hand under the blankets, fingers dragging up slowly, intently over your calves.
"Cold," you whimpered, but the shiver that ran through you had nothing to do with the temperature, not as he traced his way up your thighs, only stopping when he found the hem of your sweater.
He leaned and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose first, then the corners of your lips, his breath warm against your face, the contrast between the two temperatures making your head spin. You wanted to reel away and lean in all the same time.
"Just for a second," he promised, "then I'll get you nice and warm."
You opened the blanket, and that intense violet gaze took stock of your attire: His old sweater, so loose and baggy it looked like a dress on you, and knee high, fuzzy pink socks. Pants had felt like a waste of time, not when sifting through the dresser meant time spent away from the fire.
Rhys all but jumped on top of you, pushing you down into the couch cushions, the blankets tangling between you as he crashed his lips against yours.
Rhys, as High Lord, was always so poised and put together, everything about him calculated and curated to create the necessary masks of court duties; but alone, like this, when it was just the two of you, no masks necessary, he let that unending restraint slip, kissing you and running his hands over your body like a man starved. His tongue swept into your mouth as he slid a hand under your sweater, deft fingers dragging up your skin to cup your breast.
He'd kept his promise about the cold, you'd only felt it for a moment before he'd settled between your legs, using a bit of magic to untangle the blankets and rearrange them over the two of you. You ran a hand through his hair, scraping your nails lightly over his scalp as he playfully gave your nipple a tug.
"Better?" He rasped, lips barely off yours like he couldn't bear to be that far from you.
The warmth of his weight on top of you would have been enough, but the way he kept running his hands over any bit of you he could reach, the way he kissed you again and again and again was enough to make you forget you had ever been cold in the first place.
"Much better," you confirmed as he broke away to nip at your neck.
He chuckled as you arched into his touch; whimpering lightly as his tongue laved over the sting of his teeth on your throat.
"Can't decide," he murmured into your skin, "if I should fuck you in my sweater or not?"
Heat coiled between your legs, even further when he rocked his hips into your center, even with the clothes separating the two of you, the friction was enough to make you moan.
He nipped under your jaw, "Look so pretty in it, but I gotta get you all warmed up don't I? My poor little mate, not used to the cold."
Now that he was with you, you wanted, needed, every bit of contact with his body you could get. The sweater, so warm and comforting before, now felt like a tremendously itchy obstacle keeping you from him. "Want it off," you complained, trying to find your voice around another moan as he rutted his hips into you again, hard even through his leathers.
He chuckled as he fisted the hem and started pulling it up your body. "Wear it again for me later?"
You nodded as he pulled it over your head and tossed it over the back of the couch. Distantly, you hoped Rhys had the good sense to send his brothers away for a little while since you had stopped hearing them moving around outside, but had no time to ask as he started kissing his way down your body, pausing to give some attention to your peaked nipples. A whine tore from your throat as he swirled his tongue over one and then the other.
"Love when you make those little noises for me," he purred into your mind, not wanting to remove his lips from your body to speak.
"Rhys," you whimpered, body arching into him as he nipped at your sensitive skin.
"You're gonna look so pretty, all marked up under my sweater later," he sent an image of you, covered in hickeys from your throat to your hips down the bond as he continued to move slowly down your body.
Rhys liked to push you, liked to see how worked up he could get you, first with that silver tongue of his, then his hands, he could keep this up for hours. You, however, where so desperate for more friction, to fill the ache now burning between your legs, bucked your hips, squirming underneath him now. "Please. Need you."
He scraped his teeth along he hem of your underwear, humming his approval. Rhys grinned against your skin, all male satisfaction as he held your hips in place. "So impatient. I thought you were freezing to death in here? Don't you want to get warm, Darling?"
Warm? Your skin was on fire in every spot he had touched, the warmth of his body spreading to every point of contact he gave. It was becoming too much and not enough, you needed more, more, more.
"Please!"
He caught the hem of your panties in his teeth and pulled them slowly down your hips, hands skimming your hips and thighs, kneading soft skin. Your legs widened for him automatically, instinctively, despite the fact that you were now uncomfortably wet from his ministrations.
He ran his tongue against your center, humming his approval, blasting it down the bond. "So wet, and I've barely even touched you."
You pinched your eyes shut, overwhelmed already. He really was too damn good at this. No amount of time would ever be enough to satisfy the well of need you had for him. You blasted that desperation, that ache for him right down the bond as words failed you, as he continued his exploration of your dripping core with his tongue. Stars erupted behind your closed eyelids as he chuckled down the bond, pleased with your reactions to his body.
You were sure you were begging for him, whimpering and pleading nonsense as he worked you closer and closer to the edge, but the words faded in and out of your consciousness. There was only Rhys, the movements of his tongue, the feeling of his fingertips digging pleasantly tight in your hips, the heat of skin wherever it touched you. Your eyes rolled back into your head, body arching, hands tangling in his hair as the edge rose up to meet and you and you toppled over it with a scream that sounded an awful lot like your mate's name.
"Such a good girl," he purred as he lapped up the evidence of your pleasure.
You're whole body shook as he kissed his way back up your body, grinning against your flushed skin the whole way. He was so warm, when he kissed you again, the taste of your release still on his plush lips, your only thoughts were on how you could get more of that warmth, until it has seeped into your bones, erased any trace of the cold that had laid so deep beneath.
You threaded your hands in his hair, now a mess across his forehead, whimpering. "Need you still."
He grinned as he caught your lower lip between his teeth in a playful nip. "I know, love."
You moved a hand to the small of his back, pulling him closer.
"You'll have me until there are no longer stars in the sky." The bond flooded with more warmth and affection, as deep as your need for him ran, his was equal, there was no end to what he could give you.
You kissed him again, even as your legs wrapped around his waist, a bit of magic finally removing those damned leathers. Maybe you'd ask him to put them back on later, so you could enjoy the sight of him in the aftermath as much as he would you, but those were questions for later.
"I love you," you whimpered as he finally slide into you, slowly, casually, like there was all the time in the world for the two of you to enjoy each other.
He fit like he was made just for you, the stretch just uncomfortable for a moment before the pleasure made your back arch and your toes curl. He moaned into your throat, pushing his nose into your sweat dampened skin, inhaling your scent as he pushed all the way in to you.
You wondered, distantly, if the stars you were seeing were his making, or something that appeared for him too. The way he panted into your skin as he rocked his hips, testing you, made you think he saw them too.
"So perfect," he moaned as he slid almost fully out.
Your nails clawed at his shoulders, begging for him to come back and he plunged back in a little more forcefully this time, the couch groaning beneath the two of you.
You rocked your hips to meet his thrusts, hands still trailing down the contours of his spine in a move that would be sure to leave marks of your own. He nipped at your neck and shoulders when you pushed too hard, skin breaking beneath your fingertips, but you knew he didn't mind, know he relished in being marked up by you, like it was a badge of honor. You'd leave hickeys on him afterwards, when the pleasure building between your legs wasn't so white hot, when you could focus your attention somewhere other than the need burning it's way through you.
His hand snaked down between your legs, drawing you closer and closer to the edge again.
"Rhys," a prayer, a mantra, the only thing that made sense as pleasure turned all rational thought to mush.
"I've got you," he rasped in your ear, every muscle taught as he rocked into you again and again and again. His pace was quickly becoming more frantic, his breath hot on your throat as he moaned into your skin. It was that sound, so desperate and low right beneath your ear, coupled with the movement of his deft fingers, the angle of his cock inside you, all hurtling you so quickly towards the edge that you didn't notice it was there until you toppled over it. Your mate followed with a roar, his own release warm inside you.
You clung to him, trembling, panting, as you came down from your high, the familiar weight of him atop you grounding in the aftermath. He snaked an arm around you as he positioned the two of you on your sides, sharing the couch now. You buried your face in the crook of his neck as he kissed the top of your head, gently.
"Warm now, darling?" He asked softly, a hint of teasing still there, even as he recovered his breath.
He hadn't pulled out of you yet; you bit your lip in thought as you tossed a leg over his, bringing you flush against his hips. You were sensitive, the movement made you wince a little, but even after all that, you still wanted more of him. Perhaps it would never be enough. Like the Illyrians that called this frigid place home, there was always going to be something that pushed you back towards the fire, that damned insatiable need to get warm.
"I think I'm still a little cold," you purred, eyes glinting playfully.
Your mate chuckled at the challenge in your tone, violet eyes narrowing into where you were still joined. "Can't have that, can we?"
The fire roared in the fireplace, a bit of your mate's magic flaring, making sure there was more heat in the cabin, before his lips were on yours again, chasing away any hint of cold before it could touch you.
#rhysand x reader#rhysand x reader smut#acotar#acotar fanfic#acotar smut#rhysand smut#fanfiction#i'm so downbad for this male as you can clearly tell#my writings
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love and power
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
chapter two
“i come loaded with the
safety switch on.”
Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie
tags/warnings: blood, sensory overload, vomit, implied cannibalism, descriptions of graphic violence, power dynamics, non-consensual touching, valentino sighting, slow burn eventual: smut
word count: 2.5k
author’s note: i just wanted to give a huge shoutout to @hazelfoureyes for being so gracious to let me tag her here as inspo! if you haven’t already, please go check out her work - she’s seriously sooo talented and awoke my need for more interaction between alastor and valentino lol
prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
Alastor had insisted that you walk back to the hotel, your arm linked under his as he paraded you through the remainder of the city like a proud parent.
You tried to fight feeling grateful for the support since he could have easily teleported you back to the hotel, but you gripped his arm all the same. The adrenaline dump had left you feeling so depleted and all you wanted was to be back in your bed. Snippets of what happened in the alley raced through your mind’s eye, and you shook your head, trying to keep them at bay. Did you really have the capacity to be that enraged? That violent? Apparently you did…
The blood was drying tight on your face, contrasting with the slick, heavy feeling of fabric latching to the skin of your chest. You could feel yourself winding up, overwhelmed and uncomfortable by the mess you were covered in. There wasn’t a part of you that felt clean and you were desperate with the need to remove your dress. Tears blurred the edge of your vision when you fixated on the taste in your mouth, barely managing to pull away from Alastor before you fell to your knees and vomited.
Bile, blood, and… It was the tipping point.
No longer able to hold it back, the sob you released was closer to a scream. What had you done? You couldn’t fight the images flashing in your mind; the sound of screams and flesh tearing, an airway so saturated with blood it bubbled. How it felt when your teeth punctured flesh, no easier than biting into a piece of fruit. Your mouth filling with blood… and swallowing. And that wasn’t all you had swallowed, was it?
It wasn’t until you started frantically tearing at the collar of your dress that Alastor approached from behind you, grabbing your wrists easily in his large hands.
“Now, now, that simply won’t do,” he chided cooly in your ear, radio static gone, his presence large and stable behind you. “I thought a walk might help you to calm down, but at least you managed to save this episode from prying eyes. Be a big girl now and stop crying, we’re nearly home.”
You couldn’t see through the tears as he pulled you up to your feet, his hands releasing you as soon as you were standing. A throb of pain rocked your head and you choked out a final sob, trying to steady your breath as you rubbed your burning, swollen eyes.
Why was he being so patient with you? He had been in a good mood ever since he found you in the alley, not even bothered by the fact that the clothes you had been sent to pick up were soiled and needed to be returned to the cleaners. And how had he even found you in the first place? Was he following you?
“Oh, my dear, you look like the stuff of nightmares!” Alastor said in his usual static, not sounding at all sorry for you. Hell, he probably meant it as a compliment. “Remind me to ask what that poor creature did to earn your wrath.”
With that, he hooked your arm again and led you up the hill.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
“What the fuck happened to you?!” Angel shouted from the bar when you entered the lobby. Husk nearly dropped the glass in his hand, but managed to recover, his face pale.
Thankfully, your audience was just the two of them. You wouldn’t have known what to do if everyone had been there to see you in this state. Dread came over you then, thinking of what it will be like to finally stand in front of a mirror. Your empty stomach churned.
“Not to worry, Angel, the blood isn’t hers. Poor thing ran into a bit of trouble running errands, but that’s all been taken care of, hasn’t it?” Alastor cooed, resting his hand on your shoulder as he peered down at you.
“Well don’t just stand there, let her get cleaned up before anyone else sees! Niffty’s gonna have a fucking fit when she finds the mess on that carpet,” Husk said to Alastor, shaking his head in exasperation.
Alastor’s fingers dug into you at being rebuked, but you were more focused on the muted plop sounds of blood falling to the carpet from the laundry bag. Had it really just been an hour since you had picked it up? You were so tired it was hard to believe that it was still only morning.
“Yeah, don’t worry, toots. We won’t tell no one about your, uh… day out,” Angel said delicately, raising his hand with a suave smile. “Scout’s honor. Though I gotta say, I think you look fuckin’ badass. Whoever it was got what was coming to ’em.”
You huffed out a small laugh, managing to give him a weak smile before Alastor enveloped you both in shadow.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
Angel and Husk watched as you and Alastor disappeared, giving themselves a moment until they felt like it was safe enough for them to talk again.
“So… what the actual fuck, am I right?” Angel half-laughed, taking a swig from his glass. “I think she fuckin’ ate somebody.”
Husk hummed, nodding his head slightly in agreement. “Definitely not impossible. I just hope he didn’t put her up to it.”
“You really think he’d do somethin’ like that, Husk? I mean, sure, he’s been bossin’ her around but… forcin’ her to eat someone? Seems extreme.”
Husk sighed, giving him a defeated look. Angel shook his head, eyebrow peaked in disbelief. Ignoring the phone buzzing in his pocket, he finished his drink.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
Despite how much you had been looking forward to it, it felt strange to be back in your room. Everything was the same as how you’d left it, but it almost felt like nothing here belonged to you anymore. The room was so still, quiet except for the sounds of Alastor rooting around in your ensuite bathroom. What he could possibly be looking for, you didn’t know, nor did you really care. You were so tempted to just collapse on the bed…
The shower turned on and you sighed, closing your eyes to enjoy the soothing sound it made. It was a peace short-lived, your eyes flying open when you felt fingers at the back of your neck undo the button of your collar, followed quickly by cool air against your spine as Alastor unzipped you. You stiffened and moved away, turning to face him, bringing your arms up to keep the dress from slipping off your shoulders to the floor.
The rebuttal died in your throat when he laughed, stepping towards you in your retreat.
“Testy, aren’t we? I was merely trying to help, and this is the thanks I get?”
His eyes narrowed when you moved farther away in response. Would he ever stop toying with you?
“Alastor, please, I’m too tired for this,” you pleaded, glancing at the bathroom behind you as you fought back a fresh wave of tears. You knew he wouldn’t like it if you started crying again.
“Which is exactly why I’m trying to help! Surely, you aren’t insinuating that my intentions were anything but courteous?” He said it casually enough but you could feel the threat veiled underneath as he continued his way to you. “Seeing how my clothes need laundering again, I figured you’d want me to take the dress as well. It was a gift, after all.”
“I’ll take it myself,” you tried to say evenly, looking away from him. He was hovering over you now, effectively making you feel small. “And I didn’t think you were—”
He tipped your chin to look up at him and licked the pad of his thumb on his free hand. You stood frozen stiff as he used it to wipe your cheek, not daring to upset him more by pulling away. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the truth of how completely in control he was over you sunk in, killing whatever was left of the hope you had of staying under his radar. Silently, you watched as he brought his thumb back to his mouth, but your breath hitched as he sucked off the residue. The look in his eyes made you want to disappear, and you hoped the tear-streaked mess on your face was able to hide the blush now burning your cheeks.
“Sylvie… shouldn’t you be getting in the shower? Or is wasting water another bad habit of yours?” he said, voice low and face smug.
Without thinking, you jerked your face out of his hand and quickly pulled the dress off, shoving it at his chest. Before he could say another word you were in the bathroom, using all the restraint you had left not to slam the door in his face. Leaning against the door, you could hear him laughing as he made his way out of your room. Finally there was silence, and you slid to the floor with your face in your hands, swallowing against the feeling of your heart in your throat. And worse, you weren’t sure if the tightness in your chest was shame… or something else.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
Niffty was already hard at work removing the blood stains in the lobby, mumbling to herself as Alastor passed through to make his way back to Cannibal Town. Making sure to give Husk a knowing, pompous grin, and receiving a scowl in return, he walked out the hotel. Alastor couldn’t recall the last time he had enjoyed himself so much before noon. Whatever else the day had in store he couldn’t know, though it would be tough to beat.
The taste that lingered in his mouth was bordering on cruel, a gamble he wasn’t sure he had properly hedged the bet of. Regret wasn’t something Alastor felt often, if at all, and he would vehemently deny it even if he did. Was it regret he felt at tasting the blood that dried on your face? No. While the blood itself was subpar — it had come from some vile creature, after all — it had been transformed by your skin chemistry and tears, creating a flavor that was robust and surprising. Had it not been for decades of tempering his self-control, Alastor worried briefly in the back of his mind that he might have done something drastic; hence allowing himself just the one taste. And apparently doomed to savor it until opportunity presented itself.
He couldn’t help passing by the alley as he made his way through the city, unsurprised to see that your victim was still lying there, stripped of clothes and whatever possible valuables he had possessed. It would be at least a week before he recovered from the attack. A thought passed through Alastor’s mind and his antler’s grew in response to the idea, mouth curling up in a fanged, sinister grin. Passersby ran away in horror.
It wasn’t until Alastor walked into the dry cleaners that the armor of his good mood chipped. Of all the fiends in Hell, Valentino was the least of whom he ever expected to run into here. Cannibal Town wasn’t a sanctuary in the true sense, but its culture did manage to deter most of the demons Alastor deemed undesirable. A peace he was not willing to part with. Though clearly someone had tipped Valentino off about how to blend in here, as he was without his gaudy trademark robe, instead donning a shockingly respectable black suit.
Alastor had no grudge with Valentino, he simply just didn’t respect him. Getting sinners to sign themselves over to you in promise of fame was so trite. How Valentino could be proud to call himself an Overlord was a mystery, unless he was truly that shameless. Or more likely, from what Alastor had overheard Angel saying to others in passing, oblivious. Both seemed correct. While Alastor could suffer a fool, anyone who would bend under Vox’s will really wasn’t worthy of his concern or energy.
Valentino turned at the ringing of the bell over the door, with what could only be described as a shit-eating grin as he took in the sight of The Radio Demon.
“Well fuck me, if it isn’t the big, brave hero! I thought Adam sent you to Super Hell, but I guess you would be too stubborn to die,” Valentino said haughtily, taking a drag off his cigarette. “How’s the wound, flaco?”
Internally Alastor bristled, but he maintained his facade of nonchalance. It wasn’t surprising that the Vees had found out about what happened between him and Adam. Of course it irritated him all the same, considering that the battle between the two of them wasn’t quite public knowledge. For now, all Alastor could do was keep the fact that the Vees knew in his back pocket and work on a plan of action to counteract it, should need arise.
“Wound is a bit strong, Valentino, but as they say: what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger! You’re too kind, inquiring after my health,” Alastor responded jovially, though the smile on his face was cold and menacing. “I must say, I never thought I’d see you here. I didn’t think Cannibal Town would be an ideal place for you to… scout.”
Valentino scoffed through a strained smile. “No shit. There are a lot of kinks out there, but ‘ragtime cannibal freaks’ isn’t one of them.” He paused to take another drag, continuing as he exhaled red smoke, “But this is the only place that can actually get all the stains out of my shit. Looks like I’m not alone in that department. Busy morning?” He gave a pointed look at the bloody laundry bag hanging off Alastor’s arm.
“You could say that,” Alastor teased, finally making his way up to the counter. The employee took the bag with a smile and removed the suit from its paper covering. Your dress was hanging in an armoire back in Alastor’s suite. He never intended to get it laundered. “Send my regards to Velvette. I haven’t had the chance to tell her how much I enjoyed her input at the last meeting you were apparently too busy to attend.”
Before the moth demon could say anything his cell phone rang, and Valentino answered as he gave Alastor the finger in response, opening the door to leave. “What do you mean, Donny hasn’t fucking showed up yet?!”
And then he was gone, yelling at his phone in the middle of Cannibal Town. Bold.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
When you woke up your room was dark, save for the light of a sconce near your door, the throbbing in your forehead making itself immediately known. The headache wasn’t surprising considering how much you had cried, nor was the pang of hunger you felt. You didn’t feel ready to eat anything yet though, but you definitely needed to get some water in your system.
Slowly, you got yourself out of bed, pausing for a moment to breathe through the stiffness in your body. Even when you had fled from Alastor earlier, your bathroom had never seemed as far away as it did now. It wasn’t until you were practically in front of it that you noticed the red dress hanging from your bathroom door, a note peaking out from the left pocket of the white, ruffled apron attached to its waist. It was a brief message, but impactful all the same.
I believe red suits you best.
- Alastor
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
tag list: @fairyv-ice
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fan fiction#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor x female reader#alastor smut#hazbin hotel smut#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#hazbin hotel slow burn
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Camera Ready ✧･ﾟ: Finnick Odair x reader
Summary: Neither of you really care if anyone sees.
Warning: exhibitism, voyeurism, p n v, riding, they fuck in the arena while it’s being televised, spit kink, size kink, creampie, switch ! Finnick, switch! Reader
⭒
“You know you could walk a little slower, sweetness. ”
Finnick’s voice blares out teasingly into the morning air as he trails behind you. Your hair sticks to your forehead in sweaty strands, your body on high alert as you make sure to scope out any remaining candidates that aren’t on your side. Which isn’t much, considering you have Katniss and the others, but it’s still a good idea to be cautious. To your relief you had found Finnick in the woods last night. And as much of a victor as you are, the dark makes you nervous. So he had allowed you to sleep beside him, curled up with his arms wrapped around you. It wasn’t intentional, of course, but when he sleeps it seems that he tends to get handsy. And when the warmth of his body was beside you, you couldn’t resist letting him throw you into his embrace.
“Maybe you could walk a little faster, pretty boy.”
He chuckles at the nickname, his pace finally catching up with you so you can see the cocky smile on his face.
“You think I’m pretty?”
Your friendship is like this, a lot. Flirtation, playful banter, and a few hook ups every now and then since the two of you met at a capital event one year. And now, even when you’re supposed to be enemies, you’re working together. It’s just a connection, an order that makes you both flow freely with each other and get the things you desire.
You ignore the way Finnick’s hands ignite flames on your skin and the way his smile makes your heart flourish. You also ignore the way you feel the constant need to protect him and keep him alive. In this game, you can’t have anything serious.
“Mm..” you reply. “Sometimes.”
Your hands wrap around his neck as you pull him to you. He smiles, that pretty crooked smile, and presses a kiss to your temple.
And then, you hear a snap.
You and Finnick are both on high alert then, and turning around you’re both faced with a victor. Not an ally, it seems, as she’s pointing a knife at the both of you.
It doesn’t take long before she’s dead, but it’s still a bother to you. You don’t like murdering these people, and you’ve never liked the whole idea or subject of the hunger games. The first time you had won, but at what cost when they’ve sent you right back in?
It’s kill or be killed. And as the woman’s blood splatters on your face, you sense that familiar feeling of rage from the first time you killed creeping back into your psyche. That rage that loathes the capital, loathes those stupid fucking districts as they fall into the ground. And your knife doesn’t stop the assault on her as you make sure she’s dead. It’s better, this way, to overdo it so they don’t have to suffer. Finnick is surprised at your strength and skill, he always has been, but he finds it best not to bring it to attention.
As you two walk away, the woods begins to clear. And then you both watch as you see the Arena come into view, dark and blood soaked.
“Great,” you mutter. “More to show the people.”
It’s obvious that everything is being recorded, but this is the most clear spot. As you sit down on one of the rock formations, your lean back to watch the clouds and the orange sunset. Finnick sits beside you, his neck and chest splattered with blood. And after a moment, you begin to speak.
“I don’t like doing this.” You state. “It’s all bullshit. It’s psychotic.”
Finnick nods in agreement, his jaw clenched as he watches the stains on your shirt.
“We should give them a show.” He says. “Do something that we know they can’t get away from.”
And that’s when you get the idea.
You look at him, a mere glance. You’re both probably sweaty and disgusting, but even now Finnick looks absolutely god like. You know he’s chiseled, under that gray suit. And you know what big thing lies underneath the crotch of his underwear.
You smile, your hand coming to rest gently on his muscled thigh. His eyebrows furrow in confusion, as he watches your palm begin to move up more.
“What are you doing?” He asks. He doesn’t seem completely against the idea, though. Because then that cocky smirk you know so good and well is plastered onto his face, his hands finding there way to the exposed skin of your shoulder. He leans over and kisses your collarbone, gently. You huff, your lips moving to graze the spot below his ear.
“If they want them a show, let’s give them a show.”
Seeming to be on the same page, Finnick crashes his lips into yours in a bruising kiss.
Meanwhile, at the capital, the monitors in the room begin to awkwardly watch as you push Finnick down onto the rocky arm. His back hits the floor with a grunt, and then he’s watching as you sit up and unzip the back of your suit. He groans when your tits are revealed to them, full and sitting in all their glory. He brings his hands up and gropes one in his hand, feels the soft skin and your pert nipples being brought to attention. You tut when he tries to move his fingers down to your pussy.
“No, Finn.” You coo. Your nails scratch his addam’s apple, and he flushes as you begin to climb on top of him. “No touching there until I say.”
He groans when you press down against his growing bulge.
“You know if we don’t hurry we could die, right?” He huffs.
“I don’t want to hear excuses, baby. We both know fucking me again is the last thing you want to do before you go.”
He can’t deny that, and as you demand that he lift himself up and unzip his suit down to his thighs, he follows your directions with desperation. You watch as you pull his briefs down below his balls, watch as his girthy length springs to full attention. He moans when your hand connects to his skin, and begins to jerk him off with vigor. You can feel a tension in the air, the feeling of being watched extremely prominent. And it shouldn’t get you so wet, but it does. So you bring yourself to eye level with Finnick’s cock, and spit down on him, quick to shove his tip into the warm confines of your mouth. He makes a deep sound in his throat, and you move away teasingly when his hips try and move his cock farther into your throat.
“C’mon, sugar.” He says, overwhelmed. “Don’t be mean.”
“Why don’t you just shut up and do what I say, Odair?” You demand. You slap his cock, and he groans, legs beginning to tremble at the pain and pleasure mixing. “Besides, I’m not letting you use my mouth right now. I just needed to get you wet.”
He whines in protest when you pull away from him. But then you’re pushing your suit down, past your calfs and onto the ground.
So help you, if you’re going to die it’s going to be like this.
When your pussy is revealed to him, Finnick’s cock jumps and he sits up to guide you to his lap. He’s warm, his cock drooling and messy. You don’t hesitate to rub his tip against your clit, your thighs holding his lean body down.
“Please, y/n, fuck!” Finnick stutters, the feeling of your wet silky cunt making him go crazy.
You smile as you finally guide him to your entrance, and sink down. His cock fills you up to impossible levels, his balls pressed flush against you when he finally bottoms out. His hands go to your waist, and when you bounce on him, his eyes roll back and he cries out like a bitch in heat.
“Jesus Christ.. you feel so fuckin’ good, angel. Love your pussy so much.”
“I know, sweet boy.” You moan when he grazes a soft spot inside you. “It f-feels good, doesn’t it? My little pussy feel good around that big cock?”
“God, yes. Cmon, ride me harder, momma. I know you can.”
And when you begin to fuck him faster, he brings his hands down to your ass, and begins bucking up into you with a feral pace. Your arousal makes him keen, makes his brain turn to mush the moment your scent hits him. You look so beautiful, so flushed and perfect, and something snaps inside of Finnick, then. His fingers spread your cheeks apart, and his voice is raw.
“Bet you like this, huh? The whole capital watching you get fuckin’ destroyed by my big cock? Hm?”
You gasp at his words, your fingers clawing at his chest.
“Finn, baby, fuck!”
“You love it, don’t you?”
No reply. Finnick slaps your ass harshly, and you yelp at the sting. His hands grab your throat in a harsh grip.
“Answer me!” He demands. You cry out, trying to nod the best you can, and then uttering out a “Yes! Yes sir!” As his large hands cut off your air supply.
“That’s my fuckin girl.” He replies. His fingers rub your clit, leaving your throat as you gasp for air and your orgasm washes over you. Your pussy gushes all over him, soaking his cock and balls and the rock below the both of you, and without warning Finnick is grabbing your hips with his large hands and turning you over so you’re beneath him. It’s quick, and you’re incredibly surprised. You wrap your legs around him as he begins to pummel you, now with more leverage and strength, and his cock feels like it’s destroying you from the inside out. You don’t complain, though. And when Finnick’s hips begin stuttering, you know he’s about to cum.
“C’mon, baby, cum inside me, cum in my pussy!”
Your words spur him on, makes him leave bruising marks on your wrists as he holds them above your head and begins to cum in thick, messy ropes. Your walls practically milk him of everything he’s got, and when he’s done you can feel the stickiness of his seed dripping off his cock and onto your thighs.
He buries his face in your neck, then. And with a small laugh, he pulls himself out and begins to lick his cum out of you. Your middle finger comes up into the air as he does it. A sign, as the victor from district 4 eats your pussy. A big ‘fuck you’ to the capital.
The cameramen and people at home watch in shock and awe. There’s a debate of whether or not they should turn it off, and after a while everyone becomes too distracted by the images on screen to worry about it. The next day, none of the other tributes look at you both the same.
Because at that time, they had been watching, too.
@emsbookcase
#finnick odair#Finnick Odair x reader#Finnick Odair x fem! reader#Finnick Odair smut#switch! Finnick Odair#sub! Finnick Odair#dom! Finnick Odair#switch! reader#sub! reader#dom! reader#the hunger games#the hunger games catching fire#the hunger games mockingjay pt1#the hunger games mockingjay pt2#the hunger games fanfiction
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barbie
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: Bucky takes his best girl to watch a Barbie movie and then spoils her with gifts.
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, Bucky being the best boyfriend, he's healing your inner child.
Author's note: it was inspired by Barbie movie when it just came out. I think that Bucky is that type of boyfriend who would do everything possible to make you happy<3
You had been excited about the Barbie movie since the day you found out that it was in the making, and you may or may not have annoyed Bucky with it like a million times.
You begged him to go see it on the day of the premiere, and even if at first he really wanted to say “no”, he couldn’t.
Yes, he was your grumpy old supersoldier, but he would do anything to make you smile.
When the tickets started to sell, it was almost impossible to find one because people went crazy about this movie.
When you finally had time to look for the tickets, they were sold out. Obviously. Even if you didn’t say anything, Bucky saw sadness written on your face when you didn’t get the tickets for the opening night, and it hurt him to see you that way.
So, as the best boyfriend in the world, he got them for you.
Yes, there was definitely one good thing about being a famous Avenger: you could get almost everything.
You and Sam also taught him how to use TikTok a few months ago, and besides a million videos of cats, he started to see Barbie-related content. He wasn’t really interested until he saw a video where a guy bought his girlfriend a doll and a lot of pink and cute things as a surprise.
Would you like it if he bought this for you? Did you even like dolls?
Bucky didn’t think about it too much; he just went to the store.
He probably stood in front of the shelf with Barbie dolls for way too long because, while he was looking for the one he thought you would like, a shop assistant came to offer him some help. Bucky explained his situation, and the young girl—Stassie, as he found out—was almost jumping with excitement to help him and said that his girlfriend was really lucky.
She showed Bucky two dolls that came out recently: one in the western look and one in a light pink dress. It was hard to pick one because both were really cute.
So he bought both.
Stassie gave Bucky a few tips on what else he could buy for you; that's why, after another hour in the mall, he went home with a big box full of random pink and cute stuff.
You weren’t at home, so he hid the box in a safe place and decided to give it to you after the movie.
The day before the premiere, when you two were already getting ready to sleep, laying under the blanket and ready to cuddle while watching a movie, he silently gave you a white envelope.
“What is this?” You asked, looking at your weirdly smiley boyfriend.
“Open.”
You studied his face for a few seconds, but then sat up and carefully opened it to not rip whatever was inside.
“Bucky…” You whispered as two tickets with “Barbie” written on them fell into your hand. “You didn’t—how did you get it?” Your eyes were watery as you looked at him.
“That’s a secret. But I wanted to make you happy.” The soft look in his eyes made you want to cry, but instead you just jumped into his arms, leaving kisses all over his face.
“I fucking love you, James.”
“I love you more, doll.”
It was safe to say that he got his reward for being a thoughtful boyfriend, and you both fell asleep only a few hours later.
You two walked out of the movie theater holding hands while you were still sobbing a little bit. It was an amazing experience, and you were overwhelmed with feelings. Bucky led you to the side so you wouldn’t bother other people, wrapped his hands around you, and held you close to him.
“Are you okay, baby?” He mumbled into your hair and kissed your temple.
“Yes. I’m so happy that we watched it. And that you came with me.” You wrapped your hands around Bucky’s neck and melted into him.
“I liked it too, actually.” You heard a deep chuckle.
“You know, I told you that you look great in pink, and you didn’t believe me.”
You obviously decided to stick to a non-official dress code, but it was hard to convince your boyfriend that he needed to wear something pink too. So the only thing that he liked in the store was a pink jean jacket, and you were okay with that.
An old lady that sat in the movie theater behind you with her grandkids said to Bucky that he was a really good young gentleman and that you two were perfect for each other.
Bucky didn’t really like any interactions with strangers, but you still noticed a light pink color on his cheeks and a sweet smile that he gave to the woman.
“If you think so, I’ll accept it, baby.” He was silent for a few seconds, but then smiled again and cupped your face with his metal hand so you would look at him. “I have something for you at home. Do you want to go there now and then order some food?”
“Something for me?” You frowned at him but still leaned into his touch. “And you should know better than to ask me whether I want to order food or not. I always do.”
You were sitting in your living room on the couch, where Bucky told you to stay and wait for him. He went to your bedroom and came back in a few seconds, holding a big pink box.
“This is for you.” He put the box near you on the couch and sat on the free spot at the other end.
“For me? Why? I forgot about our anniversary or something?” You tried to laugh.
You opened the lid, and your mouth opened as you saw what was in there. Your shaking hands gently pulled out two boxes with dolls, and you took a few seconds to look at them properly, trying to blink away the tears in your eyes. Then you got the rest of the stuff: a pajama set, a journal, a candle, masks and bath bombs, and a lot of your favorite candies. Of course, everything was pink.
“I hope you like it. The girl at the store said–” You didn’t let him finish before you stood from your place and sat onto Bucky’s lap, hugging him as hard as you could, sobbing into his neck.
“Sh-h, baby, that’s okay.” He wrapped his arms around your body, gently swaying you from side to side.
“T-thank you so much, Bucky, really. You didn’t have to do it.” You moved back a little bit, and Bucky’s right hand immediately flew to your face to wipe away tears. You took one of the boxes with a doll on your lap and carefully took her out of the box. “She’s so pretty... I’ve never had a real Barbie before. They are expensive.”
“It is worth every dollar if it makes you happy. I saw this idea on that video app, and I wanted to give you something special.”
He looked at you with a soft smile while you were unpacking the second doll and then gently touching her hair and clothes. He thought that he gave this present more to the younger you, and it made him feel so happy.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” You put the doll down and took Bucky’s face in your hands. “I am so lucky to have such a person in my life. Thank you for everything. Not only for dolls, it’s all amazing. I love you, James.” You closed your eyes when he moved closer and put his forehead on yours.
“I’m the one who is lucky to have you. I’ll give you anything if it makes you smile this way. I love you.”
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x you
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Dirty Little Secret
Part 2
Masterlist
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader, Best friend! JJ x Pogue!Reader (All over 18)
TW: angst, brief mention of weed and alcohol
Summary: You and Rafe are in a secret relationship, but it all comes to a head when a girl gets a little too close at a party.
Word Count:4.1k
You've been dating Rafe for almost a year, and it's been filled with love, lust, and laughter. You're both happier than you've ever been but the catch is, no one knows. It had started off as a mutual agreement to keep your relationship a secret.
You're a pogue and he's a kook; neither of you wanted the drama that would come from your unlikely pairing to interfere. However, as time passed and the two of you realized you were in love, the truth remained hidden.
You've always understood, really you have. You've each got reputations, and Rafe had insisted that Ward finding out about you would threaten your safety. You trust him, so you've never questioned his motives.
Standing here now at a party, doubt begins to flood your system, the nauseating scent of weed mixed with beer doing nothing to help your anxiety as your mind reels.
Rafe is constantly getting attention from female suitors and it's never really bothered you before. So you're not sure why bile is rising in your throat as you watch a girl twirl her hair and blink up at your boyfriend.
Women don't know he's taken, and you're well aware that your boyfriend is a beautiful man. You've told him many times that he could easily be a runway model. So it's never surprised you that he has a long line of women dying to get him into bed.
What does surprise you is the fact that Rafe is entertaining it this time. You stand frozen in place as his arm wraps around the blonde woman's shoulder and his head tilts back as he laughs without a care in the world.
Usually, the two of you have an agreement not to be seen together. It's just easier that way; it eliminates any suspicion or questions. That flies out the window as your feet carry you forward on a mission, and you stop just short of the giggling duo.
Rafe notices you immediately and though he's good about keeping a poker face, you know him better than you know yourself and recognize the concern and confusion swimming in his blue eyes that you so often drown in.
"Hey, Rafe."
Your smile is tight as you stare up at him, and in the same way you can read him like a book, he immediately knows that you're upset.
"Hey."
The woman looks between the two of you with pinched eyebrows before returning her attention to your boyfriend.
"Who's this, Rafey?"
You resist the urge to rip out her extensions that probably cost more than your car and tilt your head to the side.
"Yeah, Rafey. Who am I?"
Now, Rafe knows that he's playing with fire. He can see the storm brewing in your normally bright eyes and wants nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and shout how much he loves you at the top of his lungs.
However, for the first time, you two are playing very different games, and his next move is dangerously miscalculated.
"Just a friend."
The words taste like acid as they leave his tongue, and he knows he fucked up the exact second he sees them register in your mind. Your gaze hardens into stone and the usual love and affection that your eyes hold for him are nowhere to be found.
You purse your lips and narrow your eyes so far you can barely see while giving a short nod.
"Just a friend. Right."
You know you're being unfair; the two of you have had set rules since the beginning and you just swapped the handbook on a moment's notice. However, the logical side of you doesn't think it's too much to ask for your boyfriend to, at the bare minimum, not flirt unabashedly in your face.
This woman isn't even from here, she's clearly a touron. You can't for the life of you figure out why the hell it would matter if he told her that you're his girlfriend.
Last night, he was whispering under the stars about how he wants to marry you one day and today you're just a friend. The whole dynamic suddenly feels wrong, and you're hit with a painful realization that you deserve more.
The two of you stare each other down for a moment before you turn on your heel and storm off. You only get a few feet away before Rafe's large hand encircles your wrist and pulls you to the side away from prying ears.
"Hey, what was that about?"
You look up at him in disbelief before scoffing and he scowls.
"We agreed to keep our relationship hidden. We shouldn't even be together right now."
You ignore the searing pain that his insensitive statement sends through your chest and will the tears to disappear. His features soften when he notices you're about to cry, and he raises his hand to wipe at your eyes.
Your body instinctively lurches backward as if he's holding a flame to your face, and hurt flashes across his sculpted features.
"Yeah, Rafe. Hide it, not blatantly lie about it! We certainly didn't agree to openly flirt with other people."
You curse the way your voice cracks and cross your arms over your chest as if they're a brick wall creating a barrier between the two of you.
"Y/N, you agreed-"
You cut him off with a shake of your head and take another step back.
"I know what I agreed to. I just didn't think that I'd have to keep up the ruse even after we were well established. I mean, we love each other Rafe! I want to be able to hold my boyfriend's hand and kiss him in public!"
Rafe sighs and runs a hand over his head, clearly getting frustrated with this whole situation.
"I thought what we have is enough."
He's trying to keep himself in check, but his patience is wearing thin, and a headache is brewing thanks to the impending argument.
"Well, it's not anymore. I don't care about a stupid fucking class war, I just want you. All of you. If I can't have that, then what the fuck are we doing? There's no future if you can't even be seen with me. What are you gonna do? Marry me in secret and we'll just live in separate houses?"
The angry exterior comes crashing down as the weight of your words crushes him, and he wishes he could just take all of this back.
"What are you saying?"
He's scared to ask the question and completely terrified of your answer.
"I'm saying choose. Me or your precious image."
There's a heavy tension that hangs in the air, and with each second he doesn't answer your heart breaks a little more. If the roles were reversed, you wouldn't have even hesitated and it occurs to you that maybe you love him more than he loves you.
Maybe he doesn't love you at all.
You tilt your head to stare up at the stars, suddenly feeling stupid. Of course you would never get a happy ending with Rafe. You're a pogue; you were never going to be more than that to him.
How foolish of you to let him in and allow yourself to believe he could feel something real for you. His father always said 'Play with trash and you'll get dirty.'
That's all you've ever been; a disposable fling until someone better came around. Someone deemed worthy of wearing his ring and having the name Cameron.
You focus on a single blade of grass sticking out of the ground and swallow thickly.
"Well, I guess your silence is my answer. Good enough to fuck, but never good enough to actually love."
The air is sucked out of his lungs at your statement and his world feels like it's burning all around him.
"Do you really believe that?"
His voice is so soft and tender that you almost let yourself believe love and pain are lying under the surface.
"You haven't shown me anything to prove otherwise."
He's seconds from falling to his knees to beg for forgiveness and pour his heart out when you turn and walk away without glancing back.
"Where are you going?"
Your steps don't falter for a moment and you're still just close enough for him to make out your answer.
"Back to my side. I'd rather be in the company of people who aren't ashamed at the mere thought of being associated with me."
Every fiber of Rafe's being is screaming at him to chase after you, but his feet feel like lead and he watches helplessly as you disappear out of sight.
"Fuck!"
You don't know how long you've been walking, but you're interrupted by the sound of a dirt bike. A small sliver of hope ignites that maybe it's Rafe, but is quickly extinguished when you remember you texted your best friend.
You shouldn't be surprised that he came looking for you; there's nothing he wouldn't do for you. There's a fleeting thought about the fact that JJ drove around for god knows how long to find you when Rafe couldn't even be bothered to walk after you, but it disappears as quickly as it arrived.
You're sure you look a mess with windswept hair and mascara trailing down your cheeks but you don't care. As far as you know, your relationship just ended, and you're beyond distraught.
With each step you took, you silently prayed that Rafe would appear and sweep you off your feet. But this isn't a movie, and you're not the main character who gets the guy.
JJ's heart shatters at the sight of you tucked into yourself. You look so small and frail, and he doesn't need to ask to know that something happened between you and Rafe.
He's the only one who knows; you've never kept a secret from him and truthfully you needed someone to go to about your relationship.
He shrugs off his jacket and carefully places it on you before zipping it up. No words are exchanged; they're not needed. The two of you have always been kindred spirits, understanding each other even when you don't understand yourselves.
"Let's get you home, you're trembling."
He hands you his helmet and you climb on the back of his bike silently, wrapping your arms around his torso tightly. Your head lays on his back in between his shoulder blades and he takes off, speeding through the dark streets toward the only place other than Rafe's arms you've ever truly felt like you belong.
He pulls up to John B's house and you trek inside to clean up while he rejoins the group in the hot tub. He's always given you space and you're grateful. The last thing you need right now is an interrogation and he knows that.
Your reflection stares back at you in the mirror and you sigh at your splotchy cheeks and puffy eyes. You wash your face with cold water and change into something comfier, raiding JJ's drawer in the guest room for a pair of his sweatpants and an old t-shirt.
You briefly consider just crawling into bed and sobbing, but decide that you won't let the rest of your night be ruined. It's been a while since you've gotten to hang out with your closest friends, and you know JJ will have you smiling and laughing by the end of the night.
Your best friend's face lights up when you reappear and he beckons you with a bright smile. They've moved away from the hot tub, now slotted around a large bonfire.
You return his grin the best you can and shuffle toward him, taking a seat by his side. His arm wraps around your back and he pulls you into him before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head.
You snuggle in closer, letting his bare chest warm you up as the aroma of his woodsy cologne mixed with scorched wood fills your nose. It feels so safe, and you relax into the familiar sensation.
Everyone is laughing loudly and passing around a joint as you stare into the flames. You're entranced by the way sparks fly and smoke billows as the fire dances in front of you. It's comforting and you lose yourself in your thoughts as you watch the embers float away.
JJ notices your blank stare as you focus on the way the fire turns from blue to orange to yellow and he gives you a small nudge.
"Earth to Y/N. You with me?"
There's a teasing lilt to his voice thinly disguising his worry and you smile up at him.
"Yeah, I'm with you J."
His hand squeezes your waist and he lowers his voice so that only you can hear him.
"I can see the gears turning in that pretty head of yours. Wanna talk about it?"
Your head shakes from side to side as you finally take the lit joint and inhale deeply before handing it back to him.
"No, I just want to have fun and not think for a while."
His dimples pop out as he grins down at you and he laughs.
"Well, you're in luck. Making you laugh and not thinking are my two specialties."
He stays true to his word, and within the hour you're riding a light buzz and laughing so hard your stomach hurts. Any thought of your fight with Rafe is miles away and joy swells in JJ's chest as he looks at your bloodshot eyes that are leaking tears of laughter instead of sorrow.
You're all so caught up in the moment that you don't even hear the roaring engine of Rafe's bike. He's spent the last two and a half hours in agony, pacing around his room with relentless tears and a runny nose.
He wanted to run after you and track you down, but he also didn't want to make it worse. He figured it was best to give you space, and he waited as long as he could before he couldn't bear it anymore.
He checked your location to confirm his suspicions and set off to get his girl. The two of you always had your location on, something that was done as a safety measure. You had completely forgotten about it, and silently kick yourself for not just turning your phone off.
"What are you doing?"
Everybody stiffens when his voice cuts through the conversation and you turn slowly to look at him, still in JJ's arms. You don't miss the way his hold tightens or the way his muscles flex and subconsciously lean further into him.
Everyone else is genuinely confused, lost as to why the oldest Cameron could possibly be standing in front of them right now.
Your eyes meet Rafe's and your stomach lurches at the mixture of anger and betrayal in his ocean-colored irises. You don't answer, the haze still fogging your reaction time, and he repeats his question with a little more urgency.
"Y/N, what are you doing?"
Your brain seems to kick into gear and rage overtakes your senses.
"Just friend things." You bite, and Rafe physically recoils as you throw his own term back in his face.
You both know the implication behind your words and while you know that nothing is going on between you and the blonde surfer, Rafe doesn't. You expect your boyfriend - or maybe ex-boyfriend, you suppose- to flip shit, but instead, he just looks anguished.
You take in his appearance and your heart squeezes when you see he looks even worse off than you are. His eyes are red and swollen, there are dried tears on his face and neck, and if he still had his long hair you're sure it would be a disheveled mess from constantly running his hands through it.
By the grace of god, no one says anything even though you know they have a million questions and you internally battle yourself. You want to jump into Rafe's arms and apologize, but then again, what the hell do you have to apologize for?
He takes a tentative step forward and you squeeze JJ's knee when he shifts to stand. Rafe's eyes dart down at the movement and his gaze slowly lifts back up to meet yours. He's silently pleading with you, and against your better judgment, you cock your head to tell him you'll talk off to the side.
He follows you to a tree that's just out of listening range and you turn to look at him. He feels sick as he takes in your appearance. Your hair is in a bun and he can tell by your glossed-over eyes that you're high. What really catches his attention though is the fact that JJ's clothes are swallowing your frame whole.
He didn't realize how much he hates the image of you in another man's clothes, and he can't stomach the idea that this will be his reality if he can't change your mind.
He only ever wants you to wear his t-shirts, and though he's always given you shit over the fact that you've stolen every hoodie he's ever let you wear, he's now more than willing to give you his entire closet if it means he never has to feel this way again.
All he's been able to think about is you being alone and broken since you walked off. It hadn't even occurred to him that you weren't alone and that if you ended things you have people to come back to. You're all he has.
It didn't cross his mind that you would move on, and he'd have to watch you love someone else from afar. The idea drives him insane, and he's willing to go to the ends of the earth to prevent it from becoming reality.
If you told him right now to strip down and do a jig in front of the entire population of OBX, he would if it meant he doesn't have to spend the rest of his life mourning the one that got away.
You stare up at him defiantly as he squirms, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck as he tries to think of what to say.
"You and JJ…"
His question tapers off and you let it hang in the air and choke him for a second before answering.
"Nothing happened, I just said that to hurt you. Did it work? Thinking that I could have something with someone else?"
Rafe forgot how cold you can be when you've been scorned, the ice in your voice penetrating his veins and freezing his blood solid.
"Yes. Remarkably well."
Your eyes rake over his figure with scrutiny and you resist the urge to crumble under his spell.
"Good."
It's harsh, cruel even, but apparently he needs to be reminded that you know your worth and could easily find a replacement. It's a lie you tell yourself; you know that no one could ever replace Rafe, not really. Your soul is intricately entwined with his in ways you didn't know was possible.
He gives a curt nod and drops his eyes to the ground, unable to take the heartless glare you're giving him.
It's a sight to see; big bad Rafe Cameron insecure and floundering. It's a side of him that only you're able to bring out. He finally met his match; the one person out of eight billion that can bring him to his knees without a single word.
"I'm sorry."
He sounds like a scared little boy, and against your will, your heart sinks.
"For?"
An apology isn't enough; you need to know that he's aware of what he's apologizing for. You need to hear the words and acknowledgment leave his mouth.
"For flirting with that girl, and for making you feel like you're not worthy. Like you're not important to me and that I'm ashamed of you. Of us. I hate myself for making you think I don't love you."
You let the words sink in for a moment and shift on your feet, debating your next words.
"You have my heart in the palm of your hands, Rafe. I just never thought you'd intentionally crush it."
He loathes how small and meek your voice is, completely consumed by heartache. He'd take you raging and screaming at him over crying because of him any day.
"I know. I'm a fucking idiot, and it seems like no matter what choice I make it's always the wrong one. I need you to know that I'm trying. I'm trying to be better for you. You're it for me, Y/N. I'll do anything to make you see that, to feel that. Please, tell me you know that."
A single tear slips down your face and you turn your head to look out at the waves.
"I know."
Your voice is barely above a whisper, and more salty tears stain your cheeks when Rafe's hand reaches out to cup your chin and turn your head to look at him.
"Please, I promise that we can go public. I'll scream it from the rooftops, I don't care. Whatever you need, I'll do it. Nothing and no one is more important than you. You're part of me, and I think if I lost you I'd lose myself too."
In seconds, the wall that went up around your battered heart comes crashing down and you step forward into his arms. He engulfs you immediately, holding you with such force you're not sure how you can breathe.
You register wetness on your hair and lock your arms around his neck. Your hands play with the short hair at the nape of his neck and he cries even harder.
Despite what he's put you through, you're still willing to comfort him and he doesn't understand why. Your love for him is so pure and all-consuming, he's sure he isn't worthy.
The pogues watch intently, shocked by the sobs wracking the man's body. They've never seen Rafe show any emotion other than anger, and despite their initial disgust when he showed up, they figure you must be something special to elicit such raw vulnerability from the kook king.
"I don't deserve you. It was never you that's not good enough. It's me."
You only squeeze him tighter, pain squeezing your chest at his genuine despair.
"That's not true, Rafe. You're an idiot sometimes, but you're human. You're allowed to make mistakes, you just have to own up to them and rectify the situation."
He whimpers at your reassurance, the sentiment foreign to him. His entire life he's been held to a standard of perfection. He isn't used to getting a second chance, he barely gets a first.
"Don't ever do some dumb shit like this again, Rafe."
Your watery voice is muffled by his broad shoulder and he nods his head in the crook of your neck. The way he practically has to fold in half to place his face against your shoulder would almost be funny if it wasn't such a heartfelt moment.
Sarah snaps a picture of the tender affection and smiles at her phone, just happy to finally see her brother act like a human being.
"I promise, baby. I never want to be the cause of your tears and pain again. It hurts me."
The two of you stay like that for a few minutes before you tell the Pogues you're heading out.
"Are you okay?"
JJ is staring daggers at your boyfriend as he asks and you give him a tight hug.
"I'm good, JJ. Pinky promise."
He nods and lowers his lips to your ear.
"Call me if you need anything."
You press a kiss to his cheek and smile before nodding.
"Always."
You and Rafe make your exit, and for the first time, he takes you to Tannyhill to spend the night. Usually, the two of you crash at one of the unused estates, hidden away from the public.
Luckily, Ward and Rose are away for the weekend so you have time to come up with a game plan and mentally prepare for the nuclear fallout.
You're just settling into Rafe's bed wearing one of his Lacrosse hoodies from the academy when your phone dings. You frown at the Instagram notification and click it, your mouth dropping open when you see the post you were tagged in.
It's the picture Sarah took and sent to Rafe, along with a few more of the two of you at the beach and kissing.
Your pulse thrums in your ears as you see the likes growing and read the caption.
My entire heart
Rafe emerges from the bathroom as if he didn't just make the most shocking announcement Figure Eight has ever heard, and you stare at him dumbfounded.
"That was fast."
He laughs and shuts his phone off as it starts to explode with texts and crawls into bed.
"I'm not spending another second without the entire world knowing you're my girl."
#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron#outer banks#outer banks imagine#outer banks fic
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pluck my cherry?
isagi yoichi x female!reader
synopsis: isagi yoichi asks his dear older stepsister a favor, which is to pluck my cherry? you’ve been a part of his life since he was 10, so you’re disgusted by the thoughts you’ve had of him. but, he’s just so sweet and innocent, you think maybe corrupting him wouldn’t be too bad…
content warnings: minors do not interact! all characters are 20+, age gap (7-years), stepcest, virginity loss (on isagi’s end), unprotected sex, oral (female!receiving), handjob, creampie, squirting, hinted breeding kink if you squint, kind of sister-con!isagi (he’s in love with you), heavy petting and groping, cum eating, pervert!isagi…
notes: i’d love to do virgin!isagi i’m sorry, but like that’s getting me all hot and bothered ૮꒰ ˶> ༝ <˶꒱ა virgin!isagi who’s a natural at sex!! love heart eyes… the two of you have grown up together and you’re adoration turned into lust… parents aren’t really mentioned but your mother fell for isagi’s father (just imagine his parents had split up). isagi has been in love with you since he was 10 btw. probably ooc… ૮ › ༝ ‹ ྀིა and!! this is for lovely @killsaki‘s family ties collab!! i loved being part of this, it was sm fun <33
WHEN ISAGI COMES TO you, all blushing and staring lovingly at you with his pretty and big blue eyes, asking you a favor you, dare say, wanted to say no to, you’re only allowed to hesitate for a moment before he’s hounding you for an answer. he’s bigger than when he was as a teenager, always having stood taller than you, so it’s easy for him to press you into a corner and keep you there for as long as he wanted.
you’re not sure whether or not he’s serious. he’s always been a bit of a jokester, he’d come in and play with you like a toy. despite being older than he, it was as if the “age barrier” played no part in your guys’ relationship. you wanted the respect you knew he could give, yet he couldn’t bring himself to show it. and, he didn’t really mind that you were older anyway.
but, you always found that to be endearing. you kind of liked to be treated like you were as young as he was, to not have your age be a factor in how he treated you. he was usually upfront about how he felt, never acting like he was forced to interact with you and like he actually wanted to be around you. it was sweet and had you feeling things you shouldn’t for the person he was to you. but, you’d push those thoughts aside when you’d shove your hand into your panties and treat yourself to a playful game called crushing on your little stepbrother. and, this was not a game a 30-year-old woman like you should be playing.
so, you shake your worries once more and ask him if he’s actually asking or just messing with your feelings. because you’re sure that, either way, you’d say yes despite your inner turmoil.
“why would i joke about this, big sis?” isagi knew your sick and gut-twisting feelings whenever he’d use that to address you. his eyes were sharp and perspective, so he would easily catch you pressing your thighs together and anxiously avoiding his gaze. you were so easy to read, and he’d hope just as easy to get into bed. “c’mon, please? f’me.”
god, he was doing to be the death of you. isagi had you tangoing with the devil with the wild thoughts he gave you. you’ve imagined it so many times, and you’re sure you’ll imagine it so many more, but now’s the time when your thoughts become reality. all those sick and twisted ideas of fucking your little stepbrother on every and any surface in your house that you could were about to become a little more than just scenarios in your pretty little head.
isagi doesn’t even question your silence, he knows you’re thinking about it—and he knows you’re going to give in. fuck, he licks the back of his teeth in anticipation, trying to quench the urge to just pounce on you now. he’s wanted this for so long, remembering how his eyes would always get so big and starry when he’d look up at you as your family had dinner. you treated him so kindly, so sweetly, like he wasn’t some random 7-year younger child your mother brought in with an extra bonus of a father figure. you accepted their presence quickly and doted on isagi with innocent adoration. that is, until you both knew it turned into something a little south of innocent and a little dirtier than adoration.
and, so, you’re left to swallow down any refusals and instead nod meekly, so easy to give in and you’re sure isagi would be using such a thing to his advantage later on.
finally, you were within his grasp and he wasn’t planning on letting go.
“fuck—! ‘ichi, please!”
an hour had passed since isagi and you got to it. you’re a creamy and hot mess now, hair tousled and stuck to your sweaty forehead. your lips are red from continuous biting, by both you and isagi, and are begging to be plucked like the pretty cherries they were, “s-stop teasing already…”
you watch as your little stepbrother tongues his way into your pussy, all hot and squirming with the walls of your insides. he’s moaning against you, sloppily eating you out and taking every moment, every second he can to engrave the taste and smell and feel of you into his mind. he’s coming off too needy for his own liking, but how could he not be when you’re just so ripe for the picking?
isagi only relents for a second to give you a laugh, kissing your swollen clit before he’s puckering his lips and sucking with fervor. you throw your head back into your pillow, tongue heavy in your mouth that all you can do is cry and palm at isagi’s skewed hair. you got it so messy, fingers tangling within each strand, that you’re not sure who looks worse.
“s’good, ‘ichi, fuck,” you’re twitching from overstimulation, being denied orgasm after orgasm as isagi would makeout with your cunt just before pulling away when you were on the brink of release. for being a so-called virgin, he was great at giving head. “w-wan’ cum for you… need it!”
you’re begging and squirming beneath him and his hot mouth. his arms circle your thighs and hold you down, thick fingers have their nails pressed into your skin that they create small crescents in their wake. he’s nosing at your clit now, mouth back at your entrance so he can dig his tongue into your messy cunt. he curls it just right, wiggles it enough to reach further than before, and you’re seeing white by the time you can moan out a warning.
“fuck! fuck!” you’re arching off the bed and thrashing, so overstimulated that you’re no longer in control of how your body moves. meanwhile, isagi keeps going, drinking in all of you to not waste a savory drop. his eyes are so droopy, practically swirling in a pool of blue and rich lust that you’re sure you’d drown if you got too lost in them. and, it was just now that you’d noticed the soft humping of the bed isagi was doing.
you pant a laugh, move a hand to brush the hair from his face and give him a small tug, “‘ichi, so cute… humping t-the bed,” you’re in no state to be teasing, but the blush on isagi’s face and the way he hungrily comes up to hump your wet pussy, you’re just babbling whatever comes to mind now. “why not put those hips to use and fuck me already?”
isagi’s eyes go wide, letting out a moan when your hand comes to toy with his dick through his boxers. he’s so thick, you can feel the heat and weight within the palm of your hand. you’re sure you’re drooling right now, but you can’t help the way your hand eagerly dips within his boxers to start jerking him off.
you start slow, only circling the tip before you fist his cock from base to tip. isagi shutters when you do, muscles flexing as he holds himself above you. you watch in awe, eyes honed in on the facial expressions isagi makes as you play with him. his brows pinch upwards, eyes screwed shut as his mouth falls open in an oh. he’s so vocal, nothing like past encounters you’ve had, and you’re embarrassed to say the noises he makes may just make you cum untouched.
“f-fuck, big sis, j-just like that,” isagi begins to thrust into your hand and tries to match your pace, but your hand is moving too fast and he’s just feeling too good, that his hips stutter and he’s quick to try and pry your hand away, “wait! ‘m-m cumming—!”
you don’t stop your ministrations, continuing to ride out his orgasm as white peaks from above his boxers and begins to seep through their material. isagi’s head hangs on to your chest, a long and low groan having left his lips at his release. god, he’s so hot, and the way he keeps moving his hips is so cute.
isagi pants hotly against your skin, slowly coming to a stop as you remove your hand and press them to his lips. “open up,” he eagerly does as told, tongue swiveling out to wrap around your fingers and lick his own cum from them. he’s staring at you while doing so, fair face flushed red down to his chest as he moans around your fingers. “what a good boy, ‘ichi.”
if he had one, isagi’s tail would be wagging with the praise. he’s practically a dog in heat, tongue lapping any body part of you as he humped the air. it’s like he’s imagining the feel of your pussy around his dick without having even put it in.
by the time isagi’s done with your fingers, you had already used your other hand to reach down and tug his boxers off. he obediently shimmied out of them, his dick big and thick as it rubbed between the folds of your cunt. “c-condom—“
isagi had the mind to reach for his pants, but your hand snagged his between grimy fingers and pulled him back, making him gasp when your other had begun to line him up with your entrance and ease him in. “fuck—wait—big sis!���
you shiver when he’s fully within you, the stretch new and giving a whole other meaning to sex for you. you wouldn’t be able to go back to anyone else’s dick after having isagi’s. it was molding your walls to fit only him, making sure that your pussy knew the shape and every little detail to it that there was. you’re sure that it was made just for you—that isagi was made just for you.
“f-fuck, big sis—s’hot, s’good. i want t’ cum already—“ isagi didn’t even give you time to breathe with how quickly he began thrusting. the second you slid him in, raw and all, he was seeing stars and thrusting away. his hips were glued to the globes on your ass, hands pressing to the underside of your knees to have you bending in a way that he saw himself going in and out within just a few inches away. he was so enamored by the sight, by your pussy, that he began to feel dizzy. “you f-fuck me so good.”
you’ve never felt so good before. isagi was bringing you to levels you’d never reached, and you were almost positive he wasn’t a virgin; but, with how sloppy he was in his movements, be it giving head or fucking your cunt, you were led to believe otherwise.
“yes—‘ichi r-right there!” your eyes cross when his tip hits that spot inside you, kisses it repeatedly, and abuses it with a mission. he’s so sloppy and yet that just makes it so much better, having isagi pounding into you without a thought within his pretty little head, just so focused on how you feel and getting you two to release, has you forgetting all about where your relationship now stands. “so hot, ‘ichi!”
isagi is nodding with your words, hips never stuttering despite how he loses his rhythm every other thrust. who knew pussy would feel so good. he’s practically head above the clouds right now, your walls are just so gummy and wet that he’s slipping out and back in so easily. he’s still got the taste of you on his tongue, letting it hang out to drop a glob of spit where the two of you meet. he’s never going to get enough of this; he’ll fuck you every day, anywhere and everywhere he could think of; he’s never going to let you go.
when you clench around him, he jolts forward, sending you into a further bend than before. you’re screaming, his name a mantra you can’t help sing. ‘ichi, ‘ichi, ‘ichi, he swore he’s never heard anything more angelic than that before. with your lips all red and looking so good, isagi forces himself to remove his hands from your knees and press his shoulders into them, having his hands linking with yours as he messily kisses you.
it’s all tongue and teeth and spit, just so messy that you have it dripping down your chin. you moan into his mouth, swallow the noises he returns, and suck his tongue like some candy. isagi watches in a daze, eyes lidded and glued to the way you suck his face. you’re liking this more than he originally thought, but he’s not one to complain when your nails dig into his hands and plead for more.
“s’good, s’good! gon’ cum! i-inside? please?” isagi gasps into your mouth, letting your tongues press and slide together as his hips stutter all over the place. your pussy spasms and sucks him right back in, like it has a voice of its own and it’s begging to be bred. isagi whines at the feeling and only pleads more.
you’re not all there right now, brain all mushy and gooey, so you just nod and babble incoherently. isagi isn’t even listening, only focused on the release coming quicker and quicker. it builds, the metaphorical dam blocking it breaks and he’s panting and gasping into your mouth as his cum is fucked into your cunt.
“w-wait—‘ichi, i-i feel like i’m going to pee—!” you’re crying, having been fucked into a bawling mess as your lower stomach burns and tingles like before you use the restroom. you’re hiccuping with every thrust isagi gives, legs shaking over his shoulders and you’re going cross-eyed when you feel yourself lose it all.
isagi is so lost in getting milked dry by your pussy, and it’s only worsened when you cling to him and cum around his dick and along his abdomen in spurts. you squirted. “oh, f-fuck that was fucking hot,” the black of isagi’s hair sticks to your sweaty chest, his tongue licking along your chest and kissing marks into your skin. he’s trying to calm down, but your juices just keep flowing and making a mess that he can’t go soft. “b-big sis, fuck, stop please… my dick’s going to fall off…”
you’re trying to stop spasming, trying to let yourself down, but you just can’t. it wasn’t enough, you’re so hungry for isagi’s dick that your pussy doesn’t want to let him go. you’re tightening around him, practically stuck together by your release that you’d probably tear if pulled apart.
“o-one more time…”
there’s no going back to how things once were now.
#ੈ✩‧₊˚ ── nine#༶⋆˙⊹❀ ── virgin on the rocks#isagi yoichi#isagi x reader#isagi yoichi x reader#blue lock#blue lock smut#bllk smut#bllk#isagi yoichi smut#blue lock imagines#isagi i want to make you cry#so pretty#pretty boy#yoichi x reader#isagi smut#tw stepcest#dark content
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String Me By My Sins, So I Can Be Clean
Scenario: You found out. Yandere!Fyodor x Reader. Part 1
Word count: 1.2 K
@ceramic-raven because you encouraged me to write a part 2. I hope you don't mind being tagged <3
Sitting in your small bathroom, you stared at a small patch that stared back at you.
21 mg. Nicotine. A beige-colored patch.
Just a minute ago, it had been adhered to your skin while you were sleeping, as if you had put it on yourself.
You don't smoke. You never smoked.
The only person you knew to smoke was Nikolai or Fukuchi, but you didn't know them to use patches. They only smoked socially, on good days when they could people watch or when Nikolai could show off vape tricks.
Fyodor had never dared to touch a cigarette, always claiming it as a hazard to his health. His lungs were probably as weak as the rest of his constitution, so you believed it.
So why the hell was it on your skin?
You wanted to ask him yourself, but he was sleeping.
Was it a good idea to wake him up?
You looked out into the darkness of your shared bed with Fyodor, looking at his sleeping form. His small frame was curled in a pile of blankets, curled against a feather pillow - like the princess and the pea, as you could see that he never looked truly comfortable.
The patch could be left for the morning.
He was smart. It must have had some sort of reasoning, shouldn't it?
Fyodor always found things out with almost no context needed. He could figure out the reason. You trusted him.
-
You had gone back to the bathroom. The patch was missing.
The trash, for once, taken out. In fact, it seemed the whole apartment had been meticulously cleaned.
You remembered that patch stared at you. The pain of removing it from your skin. How hard you had to pull it from your skin.
So where did it fucking go?
"Hey babe!"
You called for Fyodor, knowing that he was most likely working on the same projects that he always was. Whatever it was, he would be able to answer you, right?
There was no response from him this time though. You called again, but you were left with silence.
Padding towards his 'office space' you found that he had his headphones on. Was he busy today and hadn't bothered to tell you beforehand? Usually, he was rather meticulous about that.
Gently, you poked his shoulder, hoping to get his attention.
Fyodor only grunted, giving a sign of recognition. You tried again, hoping he would respond.
"Are you busy? I wanted to talk to you about something that happened last night."
Fyodor turned only slightly, his eyes still facing his screen - absorbed on whatever 'work' was on his screen. Code that you never bothered to learn to understand, that became a source of frustration as it seemed more important now.
"Yeah, what is it?"
Complete disinterest.
"I found like. A nicotine patch, last night. On me. Fyodor, that's weird, right?"
His eyes finally looked at you, although they were only glancing, at best.
"It is. You don't smoke, do you?"
"What?"
You took a moment to look at him. What the hell was he implying by that? He knew you never did. You always rejected them, since he was so sensitive to smells.
"If you do, you can tell me. I won't judge you."
His voice was soft, unjudgemental at the implication of you even having an addiction. You tried to keep calm through you frustration.
"I don't smoke. You know I don't, asshole! It's really weird that it showed up on my body like that, isn't it?"
You hoped he would help you. But he didn't even seem to care about your predicament so far, instead lazily moving typing commands on his keyboard like a sort of wizard.
"It is weird. If neither of us smoke, then how did it get there, hm? Maybe someone is playing a prank on you. Do you have the patch? We can figure out more about it from there."
He had leaned back, as calm about this conversation as anyone could possibly be. You wanted to kill him.
"It was on the bathroom counter when I took it off last night. I can't find it though!"
You couldn't help raising your voice at the end. For some reason, your frustration was building up so easily it was nearly boiling over.
It wasn't fair to take it out on Fyodor. He gave you a look as well, because well, you knew that you were being emotional about this.
It was just weird. Why was this upsetting you so much? You weren't usually upset so quickly like this.
"Sorry. But I'm being serious Fyo."
Trying your best to calm down, you took a deep inhale. Your lungs filled with air, clearing your head, if only a little.
There was still a frustration coursing through your veins, making you want to pull at Fyodor's hair for being so...well, him. Just being himself, right now.
Is he doing it on fucking purpose? Is he trying to piss you off as much as possible?
He's the smartest man you know, this isn't any real detective work. Fyodor knows why you're feeling the way you are. He can clearly tell that this actually happened - that you aren't fucking crazy.
So why is he acting like you are?
"Of course you are. I believe you, sweetheart. But what's the real problem here?"
His tired eyes slowly blinked at you. There was an emotion lurking in there, but you really didn't know how to describe it.
It was gentle, but not kind.
"Well. It was put on me. That means someone is drugging me. It's violating."
"I can see why you feel that way, yes. But maybe it was just an accident? People on the street these days are rather crazy-looney."
Fyodor had the gall to laugh as he said that, finding humor in his own words as he didn't find your plight worth crying over. There was no fret - being drugged was an everyday occurance.
Tomorrow you could be stabbed with heroin and it would just be an everyday occurrence, right? Worse things could happen to you. Maybe you would accidentally inhale deadly amounts of cocaine since this was just normal.
"Oh I can't believe you."
You left the room. At that moment you just wanted to punch Fyodor.
Did he always look that punchable? With his stupid smirk and pale, dead-looking skin. His eyes seemed so dead, with no read smile attached to them.
It was hard to look at him without feeling enraged.
"And where do you think you're going, sunshine?"
"Anywhere! If I have to see you again, I would probably. Oh!"
You made a noise as you kicked the door, rushing to just get out and get away from the source of your anxiety.
It felt natural, running outside and walking - letting the adrenaline in your body take you as far as it would let you.
Where were you going?
A hand on your arm stopped you. You turned around, the calm face that matched the pale skin - his dead purple eyes were smiling, although it made you stop dead in your tracks.
Where were you going?
You didn't have anything besides Fyodor.
"Please. Just leave me alone."
"You're being irrational, my dear. It's embarrassing."
The hold he had on your arm was tight, some hidden strength he carried that you never knew existed. Pulled did nothing, and there were tears pushing against your face as you felt the feeling again -
Trapped.
"Please. Fucking just. Let me go."
Shaking his head, Fyodor pulled you in - his face rested against your forehead, but the pull his hand had on his scalp was anything but gentle.
He was mad. About what?
Why did it always end up this way?
Honestly this can be stand alone, but YAY i finally finished this !!!! To the people who wanted this, I hope you enjoy this cuz this was kinda lot for me idk why.
#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd x y/n#fyodor x reader#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader#fyodor x you#fyodor bsd x reader#yandere bsd#yandere fyodor#yandere x reader#hey fellas ignore the fact this took forever to write btw
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To hunt or be hunted #4
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer
Summary: Truth unveiled, Alastor being unusually touchy, Lucifer being himself.
Warnings: Mentions of child death.
Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink
One year and seven months left. You reminded yourself while watching the black snake tattoo that slowly made its way up your arm, soon it would reach your heart and all would be over.
“Ten years, you work for me at my Hotel, and if I can’t manage to convince you to find something good to do with yourself, I’ll set you free” Charlie’s voice resonated in your head, it made no sense, but the true meaning of the deal was that if she could manage to help you find a reason to continue living, you would have a permanent home at the hotel.
If she couldn’t, you would have your soul back, and then the snake takes care of ending your suffering.
A swarming of feelings and thoughts came from thinking about the countdown, “It’s probably the best” who was going to miss you anyways? No one did back at the living world, your daughter died post-partum, your husband had died because of his sins, most of your friends at the time flew overseas looking for a better life, and there was no family left to mourn you.
Still isn’t.
Your father and your husband were most likely around in hell somewhere, in a hundred years you haven’t bothered to check, probably ended up repeating the same pattern: Gambling, debts, death.
May was a dreadful month, Mother’s day, your daughter’s birth and death anniversary, and just by the end of it, your birthday. Turning 40 is bad, but imagine turning 140 years old, that is worse.
You died at 35 years old in the 1920’s, since that to now it’s been 104 years, plus your age at the time 139, now turning 140. “It’s a blessing that I stayed looking the age I died in, otherwise I would be looking worse” you outlined your hips with your hands while straightening the leather straps around your waist.
‘Y/n, can you come to the parlor please?’ you heard Charlie speak through. You immediately knew what was going to happen, giving that it was nine Am sharp, and you weren’t summoned to make breakfast.
She either told them, or Angel was going to be fried alive.
Just as you guessed, there was Charlie in front of the fireplace, as the rest, except Alastor, looked rather hurt and shocked, specially Lucifer and Vaggie.
“You called?” the smoke cleared, making yourself appear sitting on the couch next to Charlie. A gasp found its way out of Vaggie’s throat before anyone could say anything. The angel collected her thoughts and then she was able to speak.
“Charlie, what the fuck is the AXE-MAN DOING IN THE HOTEL!” Vaggie didn’t doubted a second to stand before her with the spear pointing at you, “She’s the chef of the Hotel” Charlie smiled weakly, trying her best to stay collected. “Since when?” the feline bartender asked, not minding your presence very much.
“Before it started actually, eight years now?” she turned to you for confirmation, which you nodded affirmatively. “And you hid this, because…?” Angel’s turn to ask. Charlie was in shambles trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t raise more questions, but failed, so you interceded.
“We made a deal; we don’t need to disclose the details, but it made her feel guilty” she shot you an unamused look before turning to her partner, her hand softly tracing the outline of her cheek.
“How come you got angry at me for lying to you, but you keep this kind of secret, honey?” ‘Oh hell no’ master or not, you weren’t going to allow that girl to talk to her (or anyone) like that.
“Hey now, whether she wanted to tell you or not it’s my and her business, but you hid the fact that you are an angel, worse than that a murderer, and no better than us sinners, so don’t act all hurt because now you two are even” your eyes lit up as the staring began to feel more lie a threat towards the fallen angel.
“You knew?” she diminished the distance between her spear and your neck, not earning a single flinch on your part, “One piece of advice, your golden blood leaves a trail, and the stench is very… specific, those like me that are used to blood can tell the difference” Alastor nodded in agreement.
“Why didn’t you tell me” Charlie sounded suspicions not hurt, to no one’s surprise really, “Last thing I knew I was a chef, not the gossip press” you took a look back to Vaggie, using a finger to lower the spear with zero effort, “Besides, wasn’t my secret to disclose” you winked an eye.
“Wait hold on, what makes the Axe-man want to work in a place for redemption?” Lucifer questioned, now more relaxed, he was all and hellfire before thinking you had taken her daughter’s soul. “She’s…kind of…forced to be here” another gasp.
Everyone turned to you, “I’m not ashamed of it, I got my ass kicked by miss sunshine here, lost my soul in the process and now I’m the chef” all except you and Charlie laughed, tearing up a little too.
“Charlie doesn’t own a soul, don’t be stupid, she’s lying right, Charlie?” Lucifer, watched his darling, perfect daughter image crumbled when all she could respond to that was a quiet shameful nod.
“YOU OWN A SOUL?” the shock was understandable.
It was too much for Lucifer so he sat beside you, holding his head on his hand, “Before you all judge her, I was stupid enough to challenge her when Lilith had just left, she was in a very dark place, my timing was terrible”
“How dark?” the king whispered your way, “I was her punching bag” he muttered a ‘oh shit’ both impressed and somewhat feeling guilty. They both had similar eyes when it came to pain.
“The infamous Axe-Man of New Orleans, I must say I am a big admirer of your work” Alastor came forward, grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. “Oh, how unfortunate” he knew your name from above, so he lived around or in New Orleans.
“Why would you say that? You made an entire state fear your axe, for years there was nothing but jazz playing in the streets at night, and what’s best you were never identified nor caught” he pulled you from your seat, hitting his chest, his cane disappeared, leaving his free hand to sneak behind to hold your back in place.
“Well, I’m not that person anymore” Alastor drank in your scent, the sweetness burning its way down his lungs.
Every fiber, every hair on his body, told Alastor to run. Animal instinct, a deer in the jaws of a lion, a prey in front of a carnivore. Maybe because of the post-battle adrenaline he didn't feel the same instinct when you helped him. What will you feel with him so close? hunger? anger? lust? Curiosity ate him alive, he wanted to know what was telling you your instinct, how would it feel to be eaten by you.
“What made you bury the hatchet?” Angel’s pun made you smile, “Alastor” still in his arm, you felt him shift. “When you made yourself…present in hell, young, power hungry and all that, something inside me just told me that it was time to stop” ‘or else it was going to end with blood’ you thought.
“Also before all this, I had heard about the cannibalistic murderer” you were aware of his aberration to touch, but given his closeness, you had no choice. Both of your hands settled on his hips, mostly for leverage, but to see how he would react to you.
“What an honor, I must say your performance inspired mine” his smile twitched, specially after feeling your warmth though his coat.
“You’re insulting me, Mr. Heartfelt” his chest tightened, a growl emanated from your throat, subtle but it made Alastor’s mind cloud a little. Focusing on your dilated pupils at all times to read any sign of warning, he saw nothing, no emotion whatsoever.
“Your act was sloppy, careless. The bullied that became executioner of his bullies, tell me, do you feel better?” He didn’t understood what you were implying, once he tasted human meat he just couldn’t stop. He never asked himself if he was content, or if the blood made him feel better.
“You only targeted Italian mobsters; I’d say that’s rather sloppy” that’s all he could think, “And yet I didn’t allowed myself to be shot in the head” there was a weird aura surrounding you and him.
The situation was charming, two assassins of excellence, powerful Overlords with influence and stigma. Despite their sins, they were beautiful beings full of life and grace. Lucifer couldn't help but feel a tingle on his back watching such a scene. It seemed like they were going to devour each other, and relish in it.
“Disappointed?” your fangs shined with the firelight. “A little” he answered, expecting you to be more sanguinary, just as you used to be. “I’ll make Jambalaya today if that makes you feel better” but no matter what he did, while froze in place, like a deer in headlights, you couldn’t make him feel less excited, so alive.
“Thank you chérie, what about my work as of late?” reluctantly he let go of you, taking both of your hands in his.
“Very entertaining” he has a very slim waist, and yet it felt strong under your fingertips, warm. He has his hands and forearm blackened, just as his legs must be. The rest of his skin must be of that beautiful cream color. Of course, his chest wasn’t bald, like you he has a thin layer of short and soft fur.
“Get a room” Lucifer broke the moment, making Alastor’s eyes turn into the demonic radio stare you knew so well, “Funny I didn’t think such a tiny person could have a massive mouth” he then stepped away. Was it normal to be cold? Your body missed his closeness.
“Here he goes again, how about you help me with breakfast munch-king?” Lucifer felt his jacket being pulled off the couch, dragged by it towards the door that lead to the hallway to the kitchen, “Did you seriously called me that?” he allowed that, with a smirk he gave Alastor the finger.
“Want me to sing the song too?” you warned with a smile, “You wouldn’t dare-” your arm hugged his small frame into your side as you started to mock him, “Ding Dong the witch is dead!” you started, dragging the king down the hallway, “STOOP!” that was the last thing the crew heard before the door closed behind you.
🍎📻
“So, you challenged my daughter?” you hummed a yes, “She took the split a bit bad, huh?” on the corner of your eye you could see him sit on the kitchen island, just a few inches from where his daughter had hurt her hand.
“I’ll send you my medical bill” your sarcasm made him laugh a little, “You don’t look like you belong in the sin of pride, yours must be wrath, isn’t it?” do demons look accordingly to their sins? You didn’t knew, “You tell me, I have yet to allow myself to ponder over what I have done”.
“I think I didn’t introduced myself, please forgive me” you left the kettle under the fire and walked over him, “My name is Y/n” you extended your hand to him, he took it with a smile. “Lucifer Morningstar, you may call me however it pleases you” his touch was gentle, but firm, you could feel his pulse though his gloves.
A thought tickled your brain, “In that case, would you like sugar or honey in your tea, Samael?” his eyes shifted, his horns grew. Like wood, like wood, his gaze was the same as his daughter's, and yet they harbored both hatred and sadness, both as deep as an abyss.
It shot an intense wave of electricity up your spine. You stood in front of the biggest predator in all of hell.
“Sorry, sorry, I just wanted to get a reaction out of you” he hadn’t let go of your hand, nor squeezed it, “I apologize, my king” your free hand caressed over the fabric.
He pouted, still not letting go of your hand. “If you let me touch your ears, I may forgive you” he turned back, you caught the sight of his tail slithering inside his pants.
“Sure, but please don’t get too close to the inside, my instincts are very strong and unforgiving, I would hate to have your blood on my uniform” You couldn't even finish speaking when he pulled your hand, immediately starting to touch the fur surrounding your ears. His knees settled on either side of your hips, taking advantage of the extra height the furniture provided.
“So soft, it’s so weird, a lion sinner, usually it’s a loyal, brave and true creature, heaven material” the sensation made your heart flutter. You felt like a dog, which made your ego bruise up a little, but at the same time his hands were warm and gentle, he took your advice and avoided the areas that you mentioned.
“Anyways, you’re forgiven, again, you’re very soft” Another cold feeling due to loss of touch, how annoying. You swallowed a lump of saliva before you could speak again, “Thank you, I take care of myself”.
“Oh and the note, thanks, it hasn’t been easy” he didn’t eased the pression on your hips, “Marriage ain’t easy, and being apart after thousands of years must be rough” it’s not like the closeness bothered you, but it grant him a cocky smile and a sense of power over you, that feeling brought back the feeling of looking like a dog.
“I just…I wish I could make it up to Charlie” his hands grabbed one of yours, fidgeting with your fingers and the palm. “If it makes you feel more at ease, the sole fact that you’re here partially does more than enough” the light in his eyes lasted a few seconds, it was a lovely sight.
“Partially?” worried? Understatement. “If I say it you can’t hit me or anything” he made an X over his heart, then his hand went back to yours.
“She lied to you and you just went along with it? Parenting 101, mutual respect: she doesn’t lie and you don’t either” he applied a light pressure to your hand pads, making your claws come out and retract, that seemed to amuse him.
“So I have to…ground her?” his golden gaze went up to your eyes, but you were far too concentrated in his movements. “Well not now, but maybe speaking with her about it might be the right course of action”.
Melancholy, he had a feeling so he went for it.
“You were a parent?” he was right, your pained expression lasted a second but it was enough for him to feel a pang on his side. “For a day and a few hours” your eyes darkened, as it they were lost in a thought. The warmth of his hand on your cheek and a soft ‘My condolences’ brought you back.
“I just know appropriate parenting by taking my parent’s example and do the opposite” you masked your pain with a smile and a smart remark, just like him, “Yeah, me too” his response made you scoff, “Where would you’ve sent you daughter for this kind of idea, Heaven?”.
Laughter filled the room. He wouldn’t do such a thing, nothing Charlie did would make Lucifer banish her anywhere, much less punish her like that for trying to help others.
“I had a different perspective of you” your tail stiffened around your leg, “What, a soulless maniac killer and nothing more?” you used to be like that. He laughed, “I mean, soulless indeed” you ruffled the hair that fell on his forehead, “But I’m glad I was wrong, thank you for taking care of my daughter, I see she trusts you a lot” you wouldn’t call it trust, nor she relied on you much.
Now that you think about it, taking care of her was instinctive, “I just grew used to her this past eight years” he smiled, “Thank you” he sensed the shift in you, the situation tensed up very quickly.
“Don’t, and just to be fully open about it, you were my objective” you would never show your fangs to anyone, looking like an animal doesn’t give you the right to act like one.
“Wait really?” his lips twitched, almost smiling. “I thought if I bruised up your daughter you would appear, but you saw how that ended” he hummed, rather amused. Your intimidation did nothing to him.
“Are you strong enough?” his question, he was insulting you? “Are you offering to fight?” you looked at him up and down, not a trace of malice. “I mean if that’s what you wanted?” he was willing to fight with you? “I…I knew I wasn’t strong enough, nor I am now. To be honest, I wanted to pass to history as a crazy bitch who died at the hands of the devil”.
‘I’m oversharing, shut up’ you took a deep breath, adjusting yourself in between his legs, “I see” his breath hit your skin, “Now I just do this, and I’m fine with it”.
“I’d say, you’re terrific in the kitchen, no matter if it’s a served cold or hot type of dish, you always make it taste like home” your ears flattened against your head. “Thank you” he then looked up from your hand once again, a tender pink hue adorned your cheeks.
“Anyways” you got rid of his touch, as well as separated his knees just enough to walk a few steps backwards, “I have to make breakfast, and I just pulled you away because your constants fights with Alastor has gotten old very quick” you walked away, taking your white apron off the hanger, then tied a lovely bow on your back with the laces.
“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, see you later then” was that disappointment? You didn’t knew, and couldn’t care as long as your body remained trying to shake off the excessive heat, and the phantom of his touch still lingering. “Fuck” thinking about it made you cut your finger with a knife.
-------------------------------------------------
Stay tuned :3 Part 5
#alastor hazbin hotel#radio demon#cursed cat alastor#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel fanart#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer magne#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin fandom#hazbinhotel#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin angel dust#hazbin alastor
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hii am i doing this right?🫠 i hope so lol i saw you saying your requests were open and wanted to ask for chishiya x reader who is really shy or has social anxiety and something like niragi bothering them? i want all the angst and all the fluff lmao
if you aren’t comfortable or just don’t want to do it that’s totally fine of course!:) i hope you have a great day :3
I'll Handle It
Summary: Niragi has been fucking with you mainly to get on Chishiya's nerves—but this time, he's gone too far.
Genre: fluff, a smidge of angst (Niragi being inappropriate)
Pairing: reader x chishiya
Words: 1.4k
Note: This is set before Arisu and Usagi came to the Beach! I've been caught up in school, so I apologize for being absent for so long :((
You tried to steady your grip on the glass, despite the condensation making your hold on it slippery. The poolside was significantly more difficult to weave around after Hatter's return from his game. Bodies were slick with sweat and adorned with glowstick necklaces, bumping and grinding all over the tiles. The air was thick with the scent of chlorine and alcohol, and the night wasn't dwindling to an end yet.
You normally would be as far away from here as possible, but your willingness to help a friend trumped your despise for large crowds. Earlier in the evening, Tatta had asked you if you spotted Ann anywhere, with him saying that he needed supplies from the locked storage closet in her office. You had shaken your head then, and you could've left the conversation at that. But you thought that he already had a lot on his plate, especially after being the Beach's errand boy. So, here you were, trying to find An in this beer-fuelled rave area.
The earphones Chishiya gave you helped to block the loud bass from the speakers. You had "swiped"—technically, borrowed, but the man thrived off teasing you—them from him during the morning. It helped calm you down and prevented the feeling of being overwhelmed. When Chishiya figured out this habit of yours, earphone pairs started to mysteriously pop up on your bedside table. When you confronted him about it, he only said that it was for you to stop getting his own pair.
Typical.
Unbeknownst to you, Kuina and Chishiya were presently on the other end of the party, trudging through the thick crowd as well.
"Are you sure you spotted them here?" He glanced back towards her, raising his voice a little so Kuina could hear him above the music.
"Yeah, I saw them just leave the bar a couple of minutes ago," she shouldered past a particularly rowdy guy. "Why'd she come here?"
"Knowing them, it's probably a favor," he sighed.
It was when they got into the middle of the crowd that he saw you standing anxiously near the beach chairs. Your back was towards them, an oversized jacket covering the majority of your body. You usually didn't care about showing skin, but you didn't want to give the militants fuel to bother you. But no matter what you wore, people like Niragi always found a way to be a creep.
"Shit, we need to get there," Chishiya muttered to Kuina. His eyebrows knit, gaze hardening as he saw a familiar black and white giraffe-print polo coming closer and closer to you. "Kuina, remember the medicine I gave you a while back?"
You felt a hand on your shoulder, gripping you firmly before spinning you around. You scrunched your nose, greeted by the sight of Niragi's crooked smile.
"Are you lost, little puppy?" he mockingly cooed.
Instinctively, you cupped a hand over your drink. Taking a step back, you stood your ground and peered up at him. Despite mustering all your courage, your voice came out wavery. "Go away, asshole."
He cackled as you warily looked at the gun slung over his shoulder. With a wicked glint in his eye, he closed the distance between the two of you, a hand snaking behind your lower back and forcefully pulling you towards him. "All that bark from such a small bitch. Where's your pussy of a boyfriend?"
"Not wasting his time getting shit-faced here, unlike you," you snarled. Your heart was thumping, skin crawling in disgust. He reeked of alcohol and his touch was uncomfortably getting lower. "If you won't let go of me right now, I'll break your fucking nose."
"I'd like to see you try. You won't be so mean after I'm done with you. Why don't you just give in and sleep with a real man tonight, huh?"
Before you knew it, you slammed your fist into his face. The music blared on in the background, but you swore you heard a faint crack. Your drink spilled all over him, ice cubes flying out. He staggered backward, clearly not expecting you to actually do it. Despite being good at games, everyone knew you to be mild-mannered, usually avoiding conflict.
But damn, it was so difficult for you to restrain yourself any further from people who gave you the ick.
A hand was suddenly on your elbow, tugging you away from the now undoubtedly fuming man. Chishiya landed a kick square on Niragi's chest, hurtling him towards the pool.
"We should run," he whispered close to your ear. Taking your hand in his, you slid out of the crowd and into the protection of the halls. Chishiya led you towards his room before shutting the door behind him. He peered out the peephole, waiting for a few minutes before deeming it safe.
When he turned to you, you were sitting quietly on his bed, busying yourself by winding your earphones up and tucking them away.
"Why were you at a party?" He sat down next to you. To your surprise, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug. You knew he wasn't one to initiate physical contact, and you respected that. But having him be this affectionate to you was admittedly a nice change.
"Was trying to help Tatta find An," you murmured into his chest.
He hummed, starting to stroke your hair with his hand. "You okay?"
"I handled it," you lazily grinned at him. Truth be told, you felt proud of yourself.
"I know you did. But I'm asking you if you're okay, not if you handled it," Chishiya's voice was muffled against your hair. He was still very paranoid of what the militants could do to you, especially after news broke out of the two of you dating.
You looked up at him, cupping his face with your hands. "I'm okay now. I just really want to take a shower."
You offered him a small grin, one which he didn't reciprocate. You could tell he was still mad over what happened. You wondered how much of it did he see in general. This type of anger within him was familiar to you—one that was silent, but by all means, still threatening. Above all, it was the type of anger that only showed when it was directed towards himself.
"Shiya, I'm okay, I promise," you firmly repeated.
"I saw how he had his hands on you," he said darkly. "I'll make sure it won't happen again."
"Don't get into trouble because of me okay?"
"Niragi can't keep harassing you all the time. Even if Hatter did something about it, he wouldn't listen," he tsked. "I'll handle it, okay?"
One look at him told you that there was no convincing him otherwise. You just gave him a hesitant nod, before allowing yourself to be cuddled again. His lithe fingers pressed softly against your waist, his other hand twirling strands of your hair.
Outside, you could still hear the faint sound of the party, but it seemed miles away now. At that moment, there were only you and him—and nothing else mattered.
.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°
"I'm sorry for dragging you into that mess, ___," Tatta looked at you mournfully.
"You should be." You dug an elbow into Chishiya's side lightly, making him roll his eyes.
"It's okay, Tatta. I'm fine now," you offered him a reassuring smile.
You were seated in the lounge, basking in the silence of the morning—mainly because a majority of the Beach's population was hungover.
"You know, if it makes you feel any better, I heard Niragi was bed-bound since last night or something," Tatta said, before munching on the bread he had for breakfast.
"Wow, I didn't know I could hit that hard."
Kuina let out a light chuckle, Chishiya smirking next to you. You flitted your glance towards the two, raising an eyebrow in question. Kuina caught your expression, giving you a playful shake of her head.
"Tell them why, Tatta."
Tatta let out his own tiny smile. "Well, from what I've heard, someone snuck laxatives into his drink last night. He downed it right after he got out of the pool and realized you guys were gone."
You let out a snort, turning your attention to Chishiya. The platinum blond avoided your gaze, though a playful smile was on his lips. He stated defiantly, "It wasn't me."
"Oh, it was definitely me," Kuina beamed. She then threw Chishiya a pointed glance. "Wonder who gave me those drugs though."
"Still wasn't me," he replied cooly, crossing his arms.
"You are unhinged," you laughed at him.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
#alice in borderland imagines#chishiya shuntaro#chishiya alice in borderland#chishiya x reader#aib chishiya#aib imagines#imawa no kuni no alice#alice in borderland x reader#alice in borderland#chishiya imagine#aib x reader#chishiya shuntaro x reader#asks#requested
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