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justaaveragereader · 3 months

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I Hate You

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Dom!Hwa, Toxic Hwa, Sadistic Hwa he’s just a huge red flag tbh , Mafia!Hwa, Hate Sex, Sub!Reader, Spit, Name Calling, Passing Liquid From One Mouth To Another, Degradation, Oral (Giving), Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie, Choking, Angsty, Manhandling, If I Missed Anything…👀Lemme Know👏🏼!

A/N: Hear me out…some about Hwa with a damn grill gone do it for me EVERY TIME! Him and that dang fur coat is giving mafia, if you disagree…you are blind. I was listening to Amy Winehouse ‘You Know I’m No Good.” and instantly thought of this for Hwa! Then I saw the unit pic him and Hongjoong took where Hwa is wearing black and white with that sleazy, smoldering look on his face and internally screameddddd! I swear ever since bouncy Hwa plagues my mind faithfully😔, I’m down bad fr. Also this isn’t fully proof read so if there is some mistakes…💀 my bad yall.

✍️Masterlist✍️

“Fuck you Park Seonghwa.” You spit through gritted teeth, both cheeks squished between one of his lackey henchmen.

“Give me the word boss, and I’ll end her pretty ass right here.”

Letting out a deep chuckle, man spreading even further in his chair, long brown fur coat draping against his seated figure. Letting out a click of his tongue. He snaps his fingers, the henchmen immediately let go of you. Your figure smacks the floor with a loud thud.

“You do have quite the mouth on you.” He says through laughter. Mocking you, like you are the scum of the earth. His eyes cut through you like sharpened glass. Your eyes shoot up briefly taking in his figure. Shirt unbuttoned right below his pecks, showing quite a bit of skin. Adjusting himself, you realize he’s bricked up against his jeans, the fabric dancing with different material down both pant legs. Was this fucker really getting off seeing you in misery?!

“I like them mouthy, it turns me on.” Getting up from his lax state in the chair, he makes his way over to you. You clench your face in disgust as he walks closer to you, shoes echoing with each step. You’ve seen this man in the daylight, and would never assume he was a monster by night.

His henchmen stand still almost like toy soldiers. Not daring to move an inch. This single man held so much power in just his aura it felt almost suffocating. Intoxicating…he’s got the type of power you could get drunk off of. Flicking his head to the side the group of men quickly file out. Leaving you and Seonghwa alone in the back of the warehouse.

“You wanted to see me.” He pauses his sentence, lifting his hands up, turning in a slow circle so you can soak in his full presence.

“Bask it in princess, because here I am, in the flesh.” He says almost too cocky for your liking. Smacking your lips at his over the top response. You roll your eyes, finding anything but him to look at, refusing to stroke his god-like ego.

“Now the real question is, I heard you were looking for big ol’ bad me.” He says through a pout, inching his way closer and closer to you. He moved swiftly, and was just as smooth as a snake.

Squatting down to your level, he places his hand on your jaw making you look at him. Your eyes burn holes into his. Lips drawn up tightly, almost snarling at him like you are kind of wild animal. Your veins can’t help but be filled with hate for this man. You hate that you seek him out, you hate how perfect he is in your eyes, you hate how he can do no wrong, you hate how hard you fell for him. You aren’t supposed to fall for a man like Park Seonghwa, no one was supposed to fall for a man like Park Seonghwa.

“Why are you looking for me? Aren’t you done with me?” He says nonchalantly. You feel like he’s spitting on you, like he’s showing you nothing but disrespect, like you mean nothing to him.

“Shut the fuck up.” You grit out, trying your best to move your face out of his grip, but he’s stronger than you. Making your head swoon with his strength, he was a no good for nothing man, but you were drawn to him. A true damsel in distress.

“Ooo I like when you talk nasty to me, it gets me hard. Real hard…” he says practically breathless, clearly he was turned on. He had been bricked since he saw his men toss carry your fighting body in the warehouse.

“I fucking hate you.” You spit at him. Words laced with venom. Laughing in your face, this was your routine with him. You say you hated him, how you weren’t looking for him, which lead to fucking, and him kicking you out. You’ve both danced with routine before.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop asking about me, stop looking for me.” He says kindly, but you know there is another layer to his soft spoken words. He's so unbothered at your hate for him, so sick and twisted in the mind that it fuels his body. Your eyes just cut to him, before rolling, darting away from him again. You didn’t want to admit out loud, nor give him the satisfaction of admitting that you were looking for him.

“Don’t look away from me y/n.” He states firmly. Gripping your face tighter, eyes flickering with games beneath them. Your eyes shoot back to him, almost annoyed at him.

“You hate me so much right? Then quit asking for me, quit looking for me.” He spits, making you wince after each word he speaks to you. Your eyes water slightly, moving your eyes to look to the side you were not going to give him any satisfaction.

“I hate you more than you can imagine Park Seonghwa.” Your whisper out loud, he can hear the broken record playing in your voice. The routine you constantly bestow on him.

“You know who I am, and you know just exactly what I do. So don’t shed any tears for me.” Shoving your face slightly back, he stands up, moving to sit back back on his chair. You watch as his fur coat sways from side to side as he plants himself on his chair. That crooked smile of his, gracing his face. You were disposable to him.

Your eyes watch his every move, popping open a bottle of liquor he takes a swig, shooting it down his throat like it was water. Smacking his lips obnoxiously, as he keeps eye contact with you. It was a battle in dominance that you knew you would lose. Leaning back in his chair, with the bottle resting between his legs. Your eyes slowly trace his body, soaking in every thing about this twisted man. Your body screamed for this man, your heart cried for him. You feel a flush of heat in between your legs at his cocky demeanor. With each sip of liquor he takes, he makes sure to keep eye contact with you while he shoots the tart liquid down. You catch a sly smile of his before he tips the bottle to slowly drip liquid down his chest.

With his head slightly cocked back he watched you through hooded eyes. His Matz neck tattoo sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Go on now princess, lick it up.”

You watched as the liquor ran down his body, drenching his neck and abdomen. Your eyes flicked down to his stomach, slowly traveling up his neck, meeting his eyes. Park Seonghwa was no good, you knew he was no good, hell, even he knew he was no good but that didn’t stop you. It didn’t stop the feeling of need growing in your core. With a smack of your lips you get on your hands, as you were still on the floor, slowly making your ways towards him, degrading yourself even further for him. Hands coming up to rest against his clothed thighs. Hard on staring you right in the face, thick at the base, with a lean to one side. Your fingers brush over it, trailing the thick vein that pulsates. His grin takes over his whole face, checkmate.

While he’s slack against the chair, man spreading so you fit in between his legs, he looks down at you. Grill twinkling in the poor fluorescent lights, he looks like trouble. His eyes say more than his own words do.

“Go on now sugar, be a good girl and put that tongue to use.” He says through a small chuckle, chest vibrating with each laugh.

“I know that pretty mouth is good for more than saying how much you hate me.”

You lick your lips slightly, before inching your body closer to his, your heated tongue comes into contact with his abdomen. Licking the liquor that remained there. The flavors makes your mouth water, while liquor was never your vice. Park Seonghwa was. He grips the handles of his chair, the feeling of your warm, soft tongue on his skin was like a reward. You were practically waving the white flag in his face. He won, he always wins.

Your tongue dips between each individual ab muscle, making sure not to leave any inch of skin uncovered. He tasted like heaven, yet you know this was far from it. As you inched further down his body you come right below his belly button. His happy trail right beneath your tongue, eliciting a loud groan out of him. He comes to cup the back of your neck, encouraging you to go lower. The fur from his coat tickles the sides of your arms, fingers on the button of his jeans, giving him a once over again you pop the button. Shimmying his pants down to his thighs his hard cock springs out, of course he was going commando. You stare up at him in disgust, jealousy lies beneath your skin.

His hand grips the back of your neck firmly, almost like he’s a mother cat, snatching his kitten up. He stares at you from beneath his nose. Taunting you, getting off at your misery. His member jumps slightly at seeing you in such a distressed state.

“I knew you were coming today ma. I knew you were going to warm my cock, so I thought why not forgo the boxers.”

You swallow loudly, gulping down the jealousy you were harboring. You should feel dirty, disgusted at the fact he knew you’d warm his leaking cock. Yet you can’t help but feel a swell of pride in your chest. He was waiting on you.

“You must’ve been pretty excited to see me.” You say, not looking him in his eyes but your voice gives you away. The small cracks and whimpers that leave your mouth are enough to know he’s got you in his trap per usual.

His black hair framed his face perfectly, the poor lighting made him look like he descended from heaven. Gripping his hard cock, you move the pre cum around the tip of it. Letting the back of your neck go, he leans back, watching the scene in front of him unfold. The feeling of your soft padded thumb on the tip of his head made him let out a groan. Black hair falling in front of his face.

Gathering all the spit in your mouth you slowly let it drop on his cock, the cool contrast to his hot member has him hissing, like the true snake he is. You lower your body, your soft lips engulf the tip. Giving it a few sucks, tossing his head back he grips the arms on his chair so tightly you watch his knuckles turn white. You look up at him through your lashes, it’s like he has sensors any time your eyes are on him. Biting his lip he says through a breathy chuckle..

“It’s been a while ma, take it easy on poor me.”

Your pussy flutters at the thought of him not giving himself to anyone but you, women threw themselves at Seonghwa, hell, even men threw themselves at Seonghwa. Times like this are when your head gets filled with disappointment but your heart gets filled with joy. Popping off his cock you lick a stripe up his leaking member, tasting the saltiness of him. Your mind clouds with thoughts…were you the last person he was with? Did he truly wait for you? The thoughts are too loud in your head, and Seonghwa notices. Brushing a thumb over your cheek, it breaks the spell on you. Crashing you down to reality.

“I’m not doing this.” You whisper out, brushing your hands off on his fur coat. You stand up, dusting your knees off. Looking him straight in the eye.

“I’m not dealing with your mind games Seonghwa!”

Everytime you raise your voice a higher octave his cock bobs up and down. The spit still pooling on his waiting cock, wrapping his own hand around it, he slowly strokes himself up and down watching your frantic figure yell at him.

“Mind games? What mind games?”

“Fuck you Seonghwa! You know exactly what I’m talking about! You fuck with my mind! You tell me to stay away from you but then you fill my head saying shit like ‘oh it’s been a while’, you know exactly what you do!” Yelling so loudly it bounces off the warehouse walls, echoing down the room. Not caring if his tin soldiers hear. Letting out a quiet laugh he looks up at you through hooded eyes, eyes so pitch black they swallow up his pupil.

“You know what I am, you know exactly who I am.” He says while continuing to stroke his cock, getting hard at the thought of you yelling at him, causing such a big fuss for lil ol’ him.

“You are such a piece of shit you know that?”

Biting his lip he leans forward, almost taunting you. Stomach muscles contracted with how fast he was close to reaching his peak.

“You are all bark and no bite, you hate me so much. Always screaming how you hate me but you always come crawling back. You hate me or you hate the thought of being without me?” He says matter of factly, hitting the nail right on the head. Steam is practically radiating off your body. Letting out a huff you march over to him, snatching the liquor bottle from his side, taking a long drink from it, before hovering over him. Sticking out his tongue, you let the liquor splash into his mouth, and down his throat. Shoving his upper body back, you slap his hands away. Shoving your pants down to your ankles before stepping out of them. Ripping the shirt over your head. Placing each of your thighs on the outer side of his legs, hovering over his waiting member.

“You taste so good.” He says through a whisper, licking his lips, drinking down any leftover liquid you splashed in his mouth. Grabbing the empty liquor bottle he takes another swig, groaning as you slowly lower your sopping wet pussy onto his waiting cock. He fills you wall to wall. Deliciously just like the last time. Gripping you by the back of your neck, he brings you close to his face, the tips of your noses brush against each other.

“You know I’m trouble, you know I’m no good, but here you are on my cock. Admit it baby..” he says, slapping your ass cheek real hard with his free hand. Bringing your naked chest to his own, the bottom half of his shirt brushes your lower stomach, making your body liter with goosebumps. He was practically fully clothed while you were stripped down for him.

“You hate me so much because I’m all you want.”

Pulling you back by the neck so there is distance between the both of you. His hand grips your ass, beginning to move you slowly up and down his cock. The fill of him has your mind on cloud nine. You want to wipe that smirk off his face but you know he’s right. Your heart tugs when he’s near.

“I’m all you need, you want me to survive. Think I’m going to run away with you? Hang this life up for you?” He says through grit teeth, ending his sentence with a slight laugh, mocking you. Not even sparing to sell you a dream because you’ve already sold yourself one. You should’ve known by now you can’t change a man, and he was not just any man. He was Park Seonghwa. You start working your hips to meet his thrusts, picking up speed as your walls get custom to his thick size in your cunt.

Squelching noises fill the warehouse, you both are breathing each other in. His eyes glimmer every time you slam your hips down on him. Tossing his head against the back of the chair, he grabs both of your ass cheeks slamming you down even harder into his length, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each slam. Tossing your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself while you bounce around like a doll for him. Letting one of your ass cheeks go, he grabs the bottle of liquor.

Pouring it on your naked chest, he sticks his warm tongue against your heated skin, trying to slurp up the liquor that’s coated on your flesh. His cool lips, mixed with his warm tongue, has you mewling. Gripping the sides to his chair, you bounce faster up and down on his cock. Leaning your head back, you are in heaven right now. Licking a stripe up your neck, he laughs into your neck. You can feel him pulsate in your soft walls. The coolness of his grill has your pussy clenching down hard on him. He’s so deep in you that you can practically taste him in your mouth. The pleasure bringing you a whole new feeling has your eyes filled with tears of pleasure.

“Talked all that shit earlier, look at you now, bouncing on my cock like you have no fucking sense.”

You let out a pathetic cry, tilting your head back you try to take in as much air as you can. Every stroke up it feels like he’s knocking your lungs loose, your body burns with the constant need of this man. Biting your lip you look down at him through your lashes, trying your best to keep your eyes on him, scrunching your face, attempting to toss him a smug glare.

“Go on baby..fu-fuck. Tell me how much you hate me, it makes my dick hard.” He grits out with a chuckle watching you bounce up and down on his cock. Your hips still at the tip of his cock, as he clutches your ass, pistoning into you. The wet sound of his cock hammering away at you, has your eyes rolling, you are on the brink of an orgasm.

“Oh my god.” You moan loudly, nails digging into his clothes shoulders. Diving his face into your chest, he sucks and nips your skin, leaving small marks behind on the plush of your breast. Your mouth falls open, jaw going slack. Taking the opportunity he places his pointer and middle finger in your mouth, tugging down your jaw with his fingers.

“You are a fucking dick head.” You mumble out with your mouth full of his fingers, drool begins to pour landing over your breast that are flying in his face. His eyes briefly roll back, letting out a groan he pulls you closer to his face by your bottom jaw, wiggling his fingers in your mouth.

“Awww I’m a dickhead, yet you are drooling all over this dickhead.” He says through a chuckle, one harsh particular thrust has you practically biting down on his fingers. Letting out a low breathy moan, he removes his fingers from your mouth crashing his lips against yours, his grill clinking against your teeth. His hands travel to your ass again bouncing you faster. Your toes curl on the sides of his thighs, his grip on you is bruising, the wet skin slapping against his upper thighs. Tears fill your eyes once more at your orgasm building up

“I told you I was trouble, you know that I’m no good but look at you, bouncing on my cock like a bitch in heat.” He moans against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip, running his tongue along it, the taste of him on your mouth was sending you over. Tears overflowing from the pressure build up.

“Go on, tell me how much you hate me.” He grits wrapping a hand on the back of your neck in a possessive manner.

“Because you do, right? Hate me so much you wanna cry on this cock every night.” Slapping your ass harshly, feeling his heated hand print stinging on your skin you let out a choked out moan.

“Go on, tell me, I wanna hear you say it again. It turns me on.” He moans out, hips continuing into you, tears stream down your face, landing on his heated skin.

“I-I ha-hate you.” You say breathlessly, gripping his shoulders tighter. Your orgasm is at its tipping point with the way his cock is brushing against your cervix. Slapping your ass hard once more.

“Louder!”

“I ha-hate y-.”

“I can’t hear you!”

“I fucking hate you Park Seonghwa!” You scream at your orgasm tips over, clutching your fists into his shirt, hips immediately stopping, you fall over into Seonghwa chest pressed tightly against his very own while his hips continue to slam into your sopping cunt, your juices rolling down, soaking his jeans. Tossing his head back, his grip on you is bruising.

“Fuck Seonghwa, please!” You whimper out, your body is overly sensitive after your intense orgasm, and his bruising pace is making you more delirious.

“Fuck! Yes, yes yes!” His yells echoing in the entire warehouse without a second thought. With one final slam into your cunt he’s cumming deep in you, hips jerking up every couple of seconds to make sure you take every drop of him. His hands jiggle the meat off your flesh, before lightly rubbing where his bruising grip was.

Your heavy breathes are all that fill the room, pushing off his chest slightly, you groan at the feeling of his cum trickling out of you and around his member.

“You are so fucking stupid. I swear you are.”

He looks at you with one eye open, while the other remains shut from his post orgasmic bliss. With a deep chuckle, he pushes his black hair out of his face. Grabbing your chin between his fingers, bringing you close to his face. You stare him directly in the eyes, before the shimmer from his grill catches your eye.

“If you want me again for round two that’s all you have to say.” He whispers against your lips.

“Oh please, I barely enjoyed myself.” You say shoving him back by the chest, carefully removing yourself from his lap. You can feel his cum start to run down your inner thighs. Cutting your eyes at him you tug on the sleeve of his fur coat. Barely moving an inch he laughs at your frazzled state, pulling up his pants he buttons them again, watching your naked body move around quickly to find your clothes and put them on.

Just as you are buttoning your own pants. You hear the warehouse door slam open, the orange fur from the coat immediately catching your eye. Hongjoong is back…

“Oh..did I interrupt?” Hongjoong says, clearly unamused at Seonghwas actions.

“Hongjoong! You’re back early!” Seonghwa says, voice full of cheer.

Buttoning your pants all the way up, turning around all they see is the back of your shirt and pants as you walk away, feet practically stomping with each step.

“Fuck you Park Seonghwa!” You scream out, echoing so Hongjoong can hear.

“Seonghwa..” Hongjoong says quietly scolding him.

“Oh don’t you worry Hongjoong, she’ll be back!” He yells loudly, making sure that you hear him. Turning around you flip him off before continuing to stomp out of the warehouse.

“She always comes back..” he whispers quietly to himself as he watches your fleeing figure.

DO NOT REPOST.

GIF made by @justaaveragereader

#ateez x reader #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #dom! Seonghwa #mafia ateez #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa smut #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #dom! ateez #dom! ateez smut #ateez imagines #kpop smut #ateez au

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hisui-dreamer · 3 months

Text

where the light is dim

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x gn!reader

Synopsis: everyone's wandered off in the festival, and you can't even find a familiar face

Tags: poetic themes, fluff, diasomnia shenanigans

Word count: 436

Notes: happy chinese new year everyone🧧🏮🎆!! this was heavily inspired by a chinese poem that takes place on new years (which i attempted a translation of below hehe), and plus it's the year of the dragon, so now we have mal mal festival time (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Masterlist

The east wind blows breezes a thousand blossoming trees,

The stars, like rain, descend like a gentle breeze.

Bejewelled carriages and fine horses leave a fragrant trail on the road,

Phoenix flutes resound in the wind, the jade lantern’s light flows,

All night, the fish and dragon lanterns dance.

Maidens adorned with gold, extravagant pins in their hair,

Smiling shyly, fragrance lingering in the air.

In the crowd, searching countless times,

Suddenly, turning my head,

There stands the one, where the light is dim.

―青玉案・元夕辛棄疾

The street pulses with energy, vibrant and bustling beneath a canopy of scarlet lanterns that sway gently in the evening breeze. Each lantern, adorned with intricate designs and tassels, casts a warm, inviting glow that bathes the cobblestone pavement below in a rich crimson hue.

The air is alive with the hum of chatter and laughter, as locals and visitors alike meander through the thoroughfare, their footsteps echoing against the ancient brick walls that line the street. Vendors peddle their wares from colourful stalls, their voices competing with the lively strains of traditional music that drift from nearby taverns and teahouses.

'Where is he?' you thought to yourself, tired from the heavy ornaments painstakingly styled into your hair as you turned and turned your head to catch even a glimpse of him amidst the bustling crowd.

Malleus had invited you to a short trip to the Far East, prompted by Silver's longing to explore the lands of his childhood hero, and swiftly organized by Lilia's enthusiastic urging. You're not sure whether Lilia was aware of it or not, your travels happened to coincide with a grand local festival.

The street offers a multitude of intrigue, from mouth-watering scents from the food skewers to the delicate souvenirs hand-crafted by merchants, and it's not long before you find yourselves gradually becoming separated from the group amidst the bustling crowd. The allure of the vibrant surroundings pulls each person in a different direction, until eventually, you can no longer spot any familiar faces amidst the sea of glamorous outfits adorning the local ladies.

A whirring noise catches your attention, and you turn to the direction of the sound. Your gaze is met with the spectacle of fireworks illuminating the night sky, their explosions of brilliance painting the heavens with vibrant hues, scattering glittering sparks like diamonds. Brilliant reds, dazzling blues, and alluring golds intertwine and collide, creating a breathtaking tapestry of colour that captivates all who gaze upon it.

It's a view you want to share with him.

You weave through the crowd once again, deftly sidestepping opulent carriages and elegant ladies. Their alluring perfume mingles with the joyous melodies of the flutes, enveloping you in a whirlwind of sensation that leaves you momentarily dizzy.

A glance down a narrow alley catches your attention, and in the distance, a lone lantern flickers. Squinting to sharpen your focus, you realise you've found the very person you're looking for.

Malleus, tucked away in the shadowy corner, his focus fixed solely upon a weathered lion stone statue.

You can't help the exasperated smile that graces your lips.

Maybe you should've expected that.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland malleus #twst malleus #twst malleus x reader #diasomnia

407 notes · View notes

kelppsstuff · 2 months

Note

Overlord reader had herself mix up "Fuck off" and "Fight me" and it came out as "Fuck me"

Wonder how Adam would react to that, or lute

Enemies to lovers anyone?

- sweetheart anon

Fuck me

Masterlist

Warnings: blood, NWSF, semi- public sex

Taglist: @fandomsbookclub @adamsfavoritesinner @leathesimp @michelleszn @sashaphantomhive @ladyninggs @sirenetheblogger

Adam x reader | Lute x reader

—

Adam wasn’t expecting it, to be jumped by a woman sinner. It was the rare occasion he broke off from his group of angels, but he did this time.

You took this as an perfect opportunity to strike. They were making this year u reasonably brutal, you had to step in. So when he ventured away you took that moment to strike from the shadows.

Adam heard a twig snap from behind him. He turned his head quickly, but his feet were already knocked down from under him.

You pinned him to the ground and pushed a angelic knife to his neck, drawing blood. “Call this damn thing off and go home.” Your eyes glowing (E/C).

It wasn’t often you’d use power to get what you want, but you were an overlord, use it to your advantage.

Adams teeth clenched, he rolled you off him quickly, knocking the knife away from you. As you stood and grabbed you by the shirt, throwing you into a nearby wall.

You eyes snapped shut in pain and when you reopen them you saw his fist flying towards you. You dodged and grabbed him from his back. Slamming him towards the ground.

He took you down with you, and you two struggled. You ended up in a position with you strangling him with your legs, while he pushed your neck up — trying to snap it — with his own legs.

“Sir?!” Adam heard Lute called from around the corner. You kicked it into high gear and twisted your body around. When Adam leaned back up he was met with a nasty head—but from you.

Black smoke pulled around you and when Lute ran down the alley way to Adam you were gone. no where to be seen.

—

After that extermination, everyone after that for the next seven years Adam would find you.

The two of you would fight your anger out on each other.

Him angry at you for being a nasty sinner. You being angry at the fact he a angelic asshole.

It had became a date the two of you would look forward too. Over the course of the years, you two have found yourself in intimate positions. Such as you being pin down. You straddling him. Etc.

The sexual tension was there and you both knew it. Adam could feel himself losing his cool. He tried his damn hardest to act indifferent around you, but you just brought a fun wild side of him he hadn’t known in a very very long time.

—

“You ready babe?”

You smiled over your shoulder at the angel flying above you. “Ready to get you ass kicked?” Adam glare sharpen at you. You felt the same excitement of that intense stare build inside your stomach once again.

Adam didn’t give you a response. Well not true, he gave you a physical one.

He charged at you throwing you into the brick wall. You could already feel your back bruise as you fell to the grown. Some parts of the wall falling with you. Fuck that hurt.

Using the adrenaline you could feel build up inside you, you appeared behind him, elbowing his side. The grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back.

Kicking his feet out he dropped to the ground, on his stomach, while you got onto his back, keeping his arms pin. “Ya done?” You spoke in a low tone. Your breath brushing his ear through the mask. He once again could feel that tension.

“Fuck me.” He said it in such a serious tone it made you stop. Like your whole mind functioning went complete stop.

Adams eyes widened at what he said. “I-I meant Fuck off!” You rolled him around and straddled his lap. Your mind finally rebooted, but in a complete different mode.

“You would like that? For me to fuck you?” You tilted your head innocently but your grin held an evil-ish glint, while your eyes were almost begging.

Adam throat tightens and he did the only thing he knew best. Made it a challenge. His hands gripped your hip and brought you down more onto him. While lift his hips up, rubbing slightly against you. “I’d be doing the fucking.”

His voice held a rasp that made your stomach twist in the most pleasurable way.

“You think you could handle that old man?”

That had fucking did it with him. He was stick and tired of your damn mouth. Always talking, always giving him an attitude, always looking as if it was made for him to fuck.

He rolled you around and pushed your back to the ground like he just was. He ripped off his mask.

Holy. Shit.

Your eyes widened, a blush forming all over your face, while you started to breath faster.

“Your gorgeous.” You hadn’t mean to say it out loud, but with that smile he gave you, it was 1000% worth it. You imagined what it would be like to sit on that face. But you couldn’t do that now.

If you were going to cum, it was going to be on his dick, and both of you knew that.

“I know I’m hot as shi—“ you pulled him down to your lips. You couldn’t breath but you didn’t care, nor did Adam. He’d rather die then leave your lips. Granted his lung capacity was wayyyyy better than yours.

When you pulled away — gasping for air — Adam aggressively started to attack you neck. Leaving marks all over. Living for the sounds of your little moans and gasps. That was heaven.

You started to pull his robe off while he started to unbutton your shirt. Once both of your top layers were off the two started to work on your own pants. Adam undoing his belt, while you uncoiled your buttons.

Adam picked you up and pushed you to the wall. Wrapping your legs around his hips. He kissed you once more. “Adam please.” He hummed as if he wasn’t listening to you.

He started to rub your clit — giving it the attention it needs — while also biting down on your neck. You return the favor with your own bite. Leaving a stamp of gold going down his neck as you mark.

Adam thought about getting that bite tattooed for a moment. It was sure to scar. He didn’t care about the pain, it was nothing to the aching in his cock, begging to be inside you.

Once you walls were nice as ready for him he started to push past your entrance. Groaning at your walls tightening around him.

He groaned and had to stop when he was fully sheathed inside you. “Fuck baby you gotten relax.” He murmured in your ear making you whine. He looked down at where you were joined. “Fuck.” He cussed, his forehead now resting against yours. You kissed his cheek.

He took that as the sign to start thrusting. Each time he’d leave your cunt leaving only the tip you’d wine, begging him to fill you again, and that’s what he did.

“Never let me go.” You pleaded.

“Like hell I will.” He whispered to you.

He felt your breath hitch as he hit a certain spot inside you. He started to abuse that spot. Making you absolutely cry for him. Literally.

You felt tears start to form at the pleasure he was giving you.

The coil in your stomachs as ready to snap as was his. “Imma cum Adam.”

He loved hearing his name on your lips. “Yeah babe? Me too, me too.” After a few more thrust you tighten around him. While he sunk himself as deep as he could go, paint your walls white.

When he pulled out he helped you shimmy on your pants. Before putting his own on. He made sure to keep you covered with his wings the whole time. Giving you privacy as you threw your shirt back on.

“I’m uh sorry.” Adam mumbled, and at first you thought you heard wrong. Adam saying sorry? Was it cold or something? “I know after care is like a big thing or whatever, but I can’t stay.” He further explained.

You smiled up at him and brought his lips back down to yours.

Adam smiled in the kiss bringing you closer. And everything was faded. Only you. He loved it. “You saying that is more that enough.”

Adam grabbed your face again, not wanting your lips parted for long. “I’ll sneak away and come back later tonight yeah?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

—

Lute had always pride herself in her kill count. In her Ability to never fail. So when you had gotten the best of her, she was livid.

She craved another fight. So the next extermination she challenged you and you won.

This had begin to become a habit over the next ten exterminations. It had got to the point even Adam had acknowledged it.

“Ready to get your ass beat babe?” Adam had said to Lite minutes before the portal opened. “I’m not losing this time.” Adam had just rolled his eyes.

“Sure babe. Sure. God why don’t you fuck her already and be done with that dinner?”

Lute had called him ludicrous, but as she saw you panting above her chest heaving, that’s all she could think about.

Annoyed she threw out a ‘fuck you’ at least attempted too. “Fuck me.”

She had said so breathless, like she’s been wanting that for a decade. Maybe she had.

Your brow rose and when she didn’t try to correct herself you started to give her a laugh.

“Awe, how pathetic of you. You want a dinner to fuck this angel pussy?” You whispered, your breath mixing with hers just over her lips. Yes she felt pathetic, and yes she wanted that.

Lute didn’t want this position however. She would prefer to be the dominant one.

She rolled you around, with you now pin she started to very aggressively kiss you. You had no resistance as you kissed back just as hard. She could feel you trying to fight for dominance so she harshly but your lip.

She grounded her hips against yours, nothing of your moaning out against the others lips.

You frantically tried to take off her uniform only for her to press into you harder. “The only person who is in control is me. Understand?”

You whined put a no. Like a brat. “If I say cum, you say yes. If I say your going to take what I give you without a compliant, you say please.”

You couldn’t lie about how attractive this truly was. Lute took off your pants and laughed at how wet you actually were. Her breath fanned over your heat that was begging for attention.

She stuck her tongue out and placed it where you pleaded for it to be. It was long til your coil snap when she started to rub your clit. You legs tightened around her face.

When she came back up her face was soaked in your juices. She kissed you once again — making you taste yourself on her tongue.

She discarded her pants and crossed your legs together. She grinded down making you both cry out a “fuck.”

You both could feel the release building up, desperately trying to get it.

When it finally did it it hit the two of you hard. Both of your legs had been shaking when you rise again.

“Same day next year?” You asked to which response was an immediate no.

When she had got back to heaven even Adam could see her glow. “Finally got laid?”

The same day next year, it happened again until it became a new ritual.

—

Me uploading twice in a day? Hell yeah!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #masterlist #x reader #adam hazbin hotel #adam is actually hilarious #adam x reader #adam x lute #lute x reader #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel lute #lute

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thetriumphantpanda · 4 months

Text

i only wanna worship you | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Seven

Chapter Summary | When a promising lead for your story turns to dust, you find comfort in the only person you know can make you feel better these days.

Chapter Warnings | mentions and discussions of drugs, drug consumption and the drug trade, swearing, flirting, explicit smut, oral sex (f), protected piv sex but nothing else.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 4.4K

Authors Note | GUYS I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. Thank you so much for being so patient - my new job and the festive period kicked my ass, but we're back, and it's the one you've all been waiting for! I'm having so much fun weaving in the story along with these guys' relationship, and I hope it was worth the wait for you. If you're enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi.

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

You’ve been sat in the parking lot for what feels like ages. Turning up at the office that morning, you’d stared blankly at the article you’d written, listening to your managers voice in your head telling you that you could go and get your story, swirling the dregs of your coffee in your mug. It was almost like a switch had flicked in your brain and before your head could catch up with you, you were stuffing your supplies into your bag and swiping your car keys off the desk.

Now, your car is surrounded by others in the parking lot of Laredo’s biggest factory - one of the towns biggest employers of people who hadn’t gotten sick of it and left for college and never come back - waiting for Tyler Johnson to appear out of the front doors for his lunch break.

You watch the clock on your dashboard, counting exactly seventeen further minutes until his tall, lanky frame comes through the door. He’s fishing in his jeans pocket, pulling out a cigarette. He leans up against a brick wall just down from the front door, lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag. It’s now or never.

You get out of your car, deciding against taking your notepad and pen, you don’t want to spook him before you’ve had a chance to talk. You can feel the familiar nervous bubble in your stomach, something that hasn’t gone away when you blindly go up to someone to interrogate them.

“Tyler?”

He turns his head towards your voice as you come to a stop a few steps away from him.

“Depends who’s asking,” He looks you up and down, “But for you honey, sure thing,” He puts the cigarette into his mouth, reaches his hand out for you to shake which you do, “What can I help with?”

You take a deep breath, the speech you’d rehearsed in the car suddenly blanked from your mind as you try and figure out how to explain to him why you’re here.

“This is so strange, but can you remember hosting a party a few months ago?” You ask, “It was in town?”

You watch him think for a second, taking another drag on his cigarette, “Yeah I think so, was pretty wild if I remember, were you there?”

You reply with a nod, “Yeah, with my friend Liv,” You sigh, “Listen, I’m not trying to pry or anything, but you know that place was raided a few days ago, right?”

“Whole place knows it was raided,” He shrugs, “Been the talk of the town.”

“Right,” You’re thinking, how can you catch him in the act? “So, why were you hosting a party in a house that was empty, that was then raided for drugs?”

“Family own it,” He shrugs again, “Guy who rented it died and it needed doing up before we could get someone else in, so seemed like the best place to do it.”

“And the drugs?” You push.

“Listen, lady,” His tone sharpens but he doesn’t move towards you, you don’t feel threatened, “I haven’t got a clue as to why there were drugs there, okay? I haven’t been there since the party.”

“So you have no idea how they got there?”

“Not the faintest.”

“So it wasn’t you?”

“What the hell is this, twenty fucking questions?” He sighs again, flicks his finished cigarette to the ground, stamping on it with his boot, “I don’t know anything about the drugs, I’ve never taken drugs, I can’t even if I wanted to, we get tested here for them.”

“When was the last time you got tested?” You ask, eyebrows raised.

Tyler snorts at you, “You and everyone else in this fucking town are so predictable,” He shakes his head, “Just because I’m not a golden boy like my brother means I take drugs?” You’re about to open your mouth to reply when he started talking again, “I got tested about three weeks ago, and then probably six weeks before that too, clean as a whistle, always have been.”

“Do you have the test results?”

“You think I’m gonna show my drug test results to a random girl?”

You nod your head because it his trepidation makes sense, “I’m a journalist,” You finally let on, “I wrote a story about the drug bust but figured there was probably more to it than first meets the eye so I’m just digging around a little,” You shrug, “If you show me, it puts you in the clear though, means people’ll stop talking about you.”

Tyler rolls his eyes but starts walking towards a car. You follow behind him, waiting as he unlocks it and looks through the glove compartment, pulling out a couple of pieces of paper. He hands them to you, which you look through and just like he said, there are the result of his last three random drug tests, everything negative. Fuck. You try not to let your disappointment show as you hand them back.

“Sorry,” You mumble, “I’m just trying to get to the bottom of what’s going on here.”

“S’alright,” Tyler responds, putting everything back in order to lock his car back up, “I know how it is, but just…” He trails off, “Be careful, okay? I don’t know what’s happening either but this could be dangerous.”

“I’m a big girl,” You counter, “I’ll be fine,” You take a few steps back, “Sorry for bothering you though, I hope the rest of your day is alright.”

There is a part of you that would love nothing more than to roll over, push your face into your pillow and scream. When did having meltdowns like that become frowned upon? You’re sure when you were little they were cathartic, but what use was that at three years old? You needed to be able to scream at this age.

Instead, you lie on your bed, staring at the ceiling, frustrated that the one lead you had turned out to be a dead fucking end. Were you wrong about this whole thing the entire time? Were you barking up the wrong tree? Did you just need to cut your losses and publish the story as is, without needing to dig around further? You had no fucking clue.

Before you can think about what you’re doing, you reach over, pluck the phone off your nightstand and press the redial button. You don’t even need to tap in his number anymore, he’s the only number you really call these days. The phone rings three times before he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Javi?” You ask, although you don’t need to, you’d recognise that voice anywhere.

“You alright, cariño?” There is just a sigh that you let out in response, then his voice is back in your ear, “I’ve had enough bad days in my time to know that sigh, what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Is your response, you know you can’t tell him what’s really up because you know the deeper you dig into this, the more dangerous it’s going to get, “Just work stress.”

He’s silent for a moment, “What can I do? I can listen.”

“Can you come over?”

Even over the phone, you can hear him thinking it’s a bad idea. You can hear him thinking about how weird it will look if your parents find him in the house with you on your own, how you’d explain it, even if they didn’t necessarily catch you doing anything.

“They’re out at the moment,” You offer, “Dinner with some people on the force, and I won’t make you stay long, I promise.”

You can hear him do that thing he always does when he’s thinking - clicking his tongue against his teeth. He’s done it for as long as you can remember - a real tell that he’s battling with something in his head.

“I mean, you don’t have to,” You hasten to add, “We can just talk like this if you’d rather.”

“Need someone to make you feel better, huh?” His tone is lower now and it makes you squirm, all you can reply with is a small mmhmm sound, “I’ll be there soon.”

Then all you can hear is the dial tone. You lie there for a moment, listening to the sound through the phone, then glance around your room and panic. You slam the handset back onto the receiver and hop out of bed, dragging the sheets up to make the bed properly, aimlessly throwing abandoned clothes into the laundry basket, shoving half-read books back onto their shelves and generally tidying up enough so as to not look like a total slob.

Once you’re sure there’s nothing on display that you wouldn’t want Javi to see, you pace around the living room, drawing the curtains a little whenever you can see headlights bleeding through, until one set of those headlights are Javi’s truck. He pulls into the drive and sits there, before he’s reversing back out and driving off. Your heart sinks a little, until you can see his frame walking back up the street. You let the curtains fall back into place and stand by the front door, smoothing your hair and your clothes when he knocks twice. You don’t wait, just tear the door open.

“Waiting for me, huh?” He asks, stepping across the threshold, one hand slipping around your waist, the other letting the door close behind him.

“N-no, I was just by the door when you knocked.” You breath, so close to his mouth.

“That so?” He asks, eyebrow raised, “Someone else looking out the curtains then?”

He doesn’t give you the chance to answer. Instead, he dips his face to yours, lips pressed softly to yours. You can feel the aches and the stress leaving your body as he does, you bring your arms up to wrap around his shoulders, as Javi’s palm on your lower back presses you into his body fully.

“Y-you wanna m-maybe go upstairs?” You ask, lips still a hairs breadth from his, you don’t want to look at him whilst you ask.

“Is that what you want?” He asks, free hand cupping your cheek to make you look at him.

“I think so, yes.” You breathe.

“Well then, lead the way cariño.”

I don’t deserve this, is all Javi can think as your hand is clutched in his, leading him into your bedroom. He doesn’t deserve the flutter in his stomach when he looks at you, or the way your eyes look at him like he’s the best thing the world has ever offered you, and he certainly doesn’t deserve the opportunity to do what he thinks you’re going to let him do in the next few hours. All of the bad he’s done, veiled as something good, all of the shit he’s fucked up before, the people’s he’s hurt, the people he’s killed, whether at his own hand or as a knock on from his actions, he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you.

You’re stood at the door to your room, back pressed up against it, hands clasped behind your back as he stands in the middle of your room. He knows you’re nervous, you always are around him, and he wishes he could say something, express that he feels exactly the same around you, that you make him nervous too, but he thinks it would sound wrong if he tried to explain it, so he doesn’t, just holds out his hand and beckons you over to him.

The warmth of your hand slipping into his, the way he knows those hands feel when you touch him, the way your lips are soft when you kiss him, all of it makes him a weak man, a man who knows you need someone with less baggage, because he can’t say no to you, he doesn’t want to say no to you.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks, manoeuvring the two of you so you’re sitting on the edge of your bed.

He watches as you shake your head, “No, it’s honestly nothing, it’ll be fine.”

“What do you want then?”

You lift your head, flash those beautiful eyes at him and instead of fighting the strength to stay upright, he takes a single step towards you and drops to his knees, settled on the floor with your thighs spread to accommodate him. He puts his hands on your knees, looking up at you, and spreads them a little wider.

“This what you want?” He asks, trailing his hands up to your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress up with his hands as he goes, “Something to take your mind off things for a while?”

“Y-yes,” You gasp when his hands hit the material of your underwear wrapped around your hips, “Yes please.”

Javi hooks his fingers into the band of your panties, watching as you lift yourself off the bed a little so he can pull them down. He’s slow with it, making sure that the hem of your dress keeps you covered as he can. It strikes him now how much he wants this, how much he’s craved the opportunity to get you like this so he can really hear you, really see you for once, without having to worry about getting caught.

“You wanna show me that pretty pussy, hermosa?” He speaks lowly into the skin of your thigh he’s nuzzling at.

He watches from between your thighs as your cheek drops to your shoulder, trying to hide how bashful you’ve become, but it does nothing to help the growing bulge in his jeans. Javi lets his fingers push the hem of your dress up your thighs, pooling at your waist, your legs widening.

Javi thinks he might audibly gasp at the way you’re already glistening for him. He leans forward, puckers his lips and presses a single kiss to your clit. It’s gentle, he revels in the small gasp you suck in, then he’s on your properly, tip of his tongue flicking gently against that little bud. He can feel your hand gripping at his hair already, hips moving in time with his mouth, and he wonders if anyone has ever blessed you like this. He needs to know.

He pulls away, letting his thumb gently replace his mouth, looking up at you, “Anyone ever done this for you?”

You shake your head, “No, but even if they had,” You’re biting at your bottom lip, “I don’t think it would have felt like this.”

He can’t help but smirk as he brings his mouth back to you, suckling your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it, listening to you the way you whine for him, the way you start moving your hips in time with the movements of his mouth again. You taste divine, he thinks, as his tongue drops a little lower, drinking up the slick you’re creating for him, dragging it back up to run over your clit again.

“T-that’s so g-good.” He hears you moan.

“Yeah?” He replies, barely pulling off you.

He hears a noise in reply, lets one of his fingers trace up the skin of your thigh until he’s slowly pushing it inside of you, amazed at how easily you let him in just like he had been in the alley. He slips another in, curls them up gently, moves them until you tip your head back and really cry out for him this time. Javi can tell you’re close - he’s made enough women in his life feel good this way to know the signs - the way you’re tightening around his fingers inside you, the way your hips are moving but your thighs are starting to tighten around his shoulders and the way your moans are louder but more breathy, he’s addicted already, he knows it’s bad, but right now he can’t find it in himself to really care.

“J-javi,” You breathe, fingers gripping at his hair, “I’m gonna-”

“Go on, cariño,” He urges, “You can come for me.”

And you do, God alive you do, and it’s the most wonderful thing he’s ever been party to. Your cunt goes tight as a fist around his fingers, slick drooling down into his palm, he can feel the way you flutter around them as you say his name over and over again in some sort of fucked up prayer, and he thinks about how it would feel around his cock. Your entire body convulses as he works you gently through the aftershocks with his mouth, fingers slipping from inside you to rest, wet and sticky, on your thigh.

All of a sudden, he can feel you gripping his shoulders, pulling at the material to try and drag him up to you.

“Slow down, baby,” He says, but he moves anyway, pushing you back onto the bed, settling himself between your thighs, “We’ve got all night.”

“Javi, please,” You beg, and he doesn’t think he’s heard anything nicer in his life, “I want you,” Your fingers are fumbling with his jeans, trying to move his belt, “Inside me.”

Javi moves, taking your wrists in his hands, pinning them above your head, letting his hips grind into your own, front of his jeans grinding into the soft wet of your sensitive cunt.

“Do you have anything?” He breathes right into your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe.

“Top drawer.” You say quietly, whining when he pushes himself up onto his knees to reach into the draw.

Javi fumbles around a little until the familiar crinkle of foil hits the tips of his fingers. He pulls it out, places it into his mouth as he works to undo his jeans, pushing them down only far enough to free his aching cock. In an ideal world he’d strip the two of you off, but there’s something about this image of you, laid out on the bed in your sinful little sundress, tits heaving as you breathe, that means he just can’t wait.

He almost cries when you reach up, smooth palm stroking at his cock, so slowly he thinks he might die. Tin foil packet between his teeth, he tears it open, rolls it into his cock like it’s muscle memory. He leans back down, feeling the head of his cock nudging at your aching pussy, gathering your wrists back into his hands to pin you down again.

Javi is looking right into your beautiful eyes now, looking at the very soul of you as he stills. He’s damning the both of you to hell with this. He thinks if he’d been stronger, he could have stopped this - sure your mouth around his cock in the bar had been like silk, and the way you’d let him touch you against the brick wall had him seeing stars, but he knows, once he’s sunk himself deep inside you, he won’t be able to come back from this.

“You sure?” He asks, lips pressing softly to your own.

“Please.”

And it’s all he needed to hear to start slowly sinking into you. He watches closely as your eyes flutter closed, head tipped back, throat exposed to his mouth. He listens as he inches in slowly to your panting breaths and your little moans, until he’s buried fully inside you. His hands are gripping at your wrists tightly as he stays still, your hips wiggling underneath him.

“Hermosa,” He pleads, warns with his tone, “Don’t m-move, please.”

Like the devil himself, you don’t listen, and when he pulls his face from the crook of your neck, you’re smirking, you know exactly what you’re doing.

“Javier,” You use his full name and he swears he feels himself throb inside you, “Fuck me.”

He should have known the whole time that this wasn’t going to be a shining star performance, it’s been too long since he’s felt like this, felt the warmth of someone like this, but he knows this is different, he knows that look in your eye, not quite love, definitely not quite love, but it’s something different to the girls of Colombia. He can’t offer you a lifeline, he can’t offer you money to get yourself out of a country that’s trying to kill you, they needed him for something, and he needed them for something in return. But here, he just needs you, no whistles, no bells, just you.

Pushing himself up a little, letting go of his grip on your wrists, he puts his palms on the backs of your thighs and pushing your legs back, folding you underneath him as he starts moving a little faster, fucking you a little harder, you let out a proper moan into the air of the room and he finds himself smirking.

“That what you needed, baby?” He coos as he fucks you, feeling himself reach the very end of you with each thrust, “Just needed me to fuck whatever was in that pretty head of yours away?”

He can feel you tightening around his length, can feel the sweat sticking his shirt to his back, and that tell-tale tightening he feels when it’s almost time. He wishes he could hold on, wishes he could string this out, make it better for you, but god he needs to feel you again, he needs to feel the way you come around his cock.

“Touch yourself,” His tonne is demanding, but he watches down at you as you smirk, bringing your hand to your pussy, finger circling your clit as his hips start to falter, “Come on baby, one more just for me.”

It happens all of a sudden, the way your body snaps under him, and that feeling he’s been chasing, the feeling of you clenching around him, arching your back into him. He can feel the effect it has on him, just seconds later he’s following you over the edge, stilling inside of you as he finishes, banishing the tiny thought in the back of his head that says he wishes he was filling you up without a barrier between the two of you.

Once he’s caught his breath a little, he pulls out of you, groaning into your skin, listening to you whine at the loss of him. He takes off the condom, ties a knot in the top, wrapping it along with the packet in a tissue to put in the bin. He puts his clothes right, before crawling back onto the bed with you, pulling you into his chest, sighing at the feeling of your arm draped over his stomach, your leg entwined with his own. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Did that help?” He asks quietly.

“Yeah,” You reply softly into the material of his shirt, “Thank you.”

“You feel okay?” He’s slightly worried he was too rough, maybe that you didn’t enjoy it, “Was it okay?”

You move your head, looking up at him with sleepy eyes, “Javi, please,” You whisper, “Stop worrying, it was perfect.”

He lies there for a while, wishing he could strip the two of you down, press your warm bodies together and fall asleep like this is all normal and you aren’t younger than him, or the daughter of one of his closest friends.

“I should go,” He muses, “Not that I want to,” He adds quickly, worried you’ll think he wants to make a quick escape, “Just need to leave before any eyes are around to ask questions.”

You move slightly, letting the warmth of your body drag away from his own, “One day we’ll be able to do this properly, I hope.” You say, pushing yourself up on your palm as he rises from the bed.

“I promise the next time I have you like that,” He’s looking at you now, chin held in his hand, “I’m going to strip you down, take my time and fall asleep next to you, I promise.”

He kisses you then, slipping his tongue into your mouth and it takes every inch of his strength to pull away.

“Go on,” You smile at him, “Before my dad comes home and shoots you.”

“He wouldn’t shoot me baby,” He smiles back at you, “He wants me back on the force too much.”

“Before he gives you a black eye then.”

He can’t help but laugh at that, giving you a small salute as he turns to leave, but there’s something niggling at that back of his mind as his hand reaches for the handle of your door, something he needs to ask before he leaves, “If something was bothering you,” He asks, turning back to you, “Or you were getting into something at work, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

He’s looking right at you as you answer, searching for anything that says you’re not telling him the truth, and as you answer, he doesn’t find a reason to doubt you, “Of course I would.”

When he’s gone, twenty minutes later your parents are falling through the door, laughing at each other, too many glasses of God knows what over dinner have made them jolly and you find yourself smirking, biting at your bottom lip in the dark, that the two of them have no idea that Javier Peña left just twenty minutes ago after fucking you better than anyone else ever had.

It’s something that keeps you smiling, even as you fall asleep, eyes closing, any thought of work and dead-end leads forgotten and replaced by dreams of what else that man might be able to show you.

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stories-and-chaos · 3 months

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Shrike pt 1

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” I did my best for an ace x ace relationship, based on personal experience. Both parties are moderately sex favorable since writing from my own experience is easiest, so I’m not sure if this counts as QPR. Written mostly in spite over all the Alastor smut. And overly innocent reader inserts. I don’t mind some smut but c’mon people.]

[Part 1/2 Word count 5506/12026]

[cw: blood, violence, mild gore, attempted sexual assault, fluff]

Behind every great man is a great woman? Well, behind every sophisticated murderer is an equally charming murderess. Maybe not as accurate a statement but that’s how you and your partner were. You met Alastor during prohibition. You weren’t the headline performer at the speakeasy he liked to frequent. You were attractive but other girls there were more stunning.

What caught his attention was the passion in your voice. You were deep and sultry as New Orlean’s summer nights. Your notes slipped into his core as inevitable as the Big Easy’s flow. Combined with your poise and aura of untouchability, he felt drawn to you. The lean radio host had never felt a pull like this to anyone.

But he noticed other men drawn to you. But they had no appreciation for you, just your flesh and the pleasure they might take from you. So he took to following you home. At a discreet distance; he hadn’t yet introduced himself. At least a dozen times he intercepted ruffians that moved to harm you. They weren’t nearly as cautious and thorough as him.

One night Alastor had just prevented another uncouth man from approaching you and was wiping off his hands when he heard your voice. Not how he normally did, trained and melodic. No this was harsh, panicked. Fuck! Another one?! There really was no end to the lowlifes.

You had screeched at your assailant, “Get your hands OFF ME!” You were shrill enough to make him wince, but only for a second. He was stronger and just gave you a dark grin with more teeth missing than not. “Let’s have some fun babycakes.” He started dragging you to an alley.

You managed to stomp on his foot with your heel. “Augh, you bitch!” He shoved you up against the brick wall. “You’re gonna pay for that,” he growled.

“I believe the lady has made her opinion clear,” came another voice in the foggy night. “Let her go.” The voice was vaguely familiar, something you heard regularly…

It distracted your assailant long enough that you could reach for your hat. It was a tad out of style but had it’s advantages. Namely, needing a nearly foot long hat pin to keep it in place. You pulled the pin out while he looked out at the other man.

“Fuck off before I kill yo-“ his words were cut off by the sharpened steel pin suddenly piercing his eye. You jammed it into his eye socket with all your strength. Maybe you could have hit what little brains he had but the other man ran up to slit the bastard’s throat.

The man gurgled desperately before falling to the ground. He twitched, blood flowing from his neck and eye. You leaned back against the wall, chest heaving.

The tall lean man seemed oddly calm. He cleaned his knife before pulling your hat pin out of the corpse’s head. Blood fountained out from the eye socket as he cleaned the gore off your pin. He turned, presenting you the slim steel by the decorative knob.

“Are you all right cher?” You took the pin back but didn’t replace it. You didn’t want any leftover gore in your hair.

“Alors pas! Give me a moment cher.” You took a few deep breaths and looked up to see a (thankfully dry) red tinged hand waiting for you. You placed your shaking one into it. The owner assisted you to your feet, guiding you away from the ever growing pool of blood.

“Quite a fright you’ve had my dear!” His crisp voice, with its transatlantic accent echoed as he escorted you away.

You shuddered slightly, realizing how bad things could have gotten. “At least it was just a fright. Thanks to you mister…?” You trailed off, still trying to place his voice.

“Alastor.”

Your eyes widened in sudden recognition. “Ah! You’re the radio host!”

“I’m flattered you remember me! I’m afraid I have you at a disadvantage. You are Y/N, correct?” Dazed, you nodded. “I’ve been enthralled by your performances for months now, I had to learn more about you cher.”

“Why thank you, I’m glad you’ve been enjoying them.” Suddenly you felt dizzy and stumbled along the path. Alastor swiftly caught you.

“I believe you’re a tad unsteady after being handled so roughly. May I?” Confused, you nodded and he immediately swept you into a bridal carry. “If you’ll permit me, I’d like to escort you home.” He paused and added, “I will need directions of course.”

The thought of a man you just met bringing you home made you flush all over. No matter how gallant he was, the radio host was a stranger. But you didn’t think your legs could support you long enough. “If…if you would please.” You glanced back at the alley. “What do we do about…”

“Hmmm,” Alastor hummed as he strolled away. He had no difficulty carrying you. “I suppose a dead man is an inconvenience but I believe getting you somewhere safe takes priority. Certainly over a lowlife’s corpse.”

It was hard to argue with that logic. You directed him to your apartment, amazed that he was able to carry you that long and with ease. Once there, you allowed him inside. Once inside with a lamp lit, you realized what a mess both were. Your coat was splattered with blood and grime. Your dress was stained wherever the coat hadn’t covered it and your hat was long gone. The hat pin in your hand was mostly clean, but you spotted some blood and gore by the finial. Your shoes weren’t worth mentioning.

Seeing the result of your ordeal made the bile rise in your throat. You barely made it to the sink before vomiting. Thankfully you hadn’t eaten before leaving work so it was just bile. You faintly heard clinking and water being poured. Alastor appeared with a glass of water for you. “Ma cher, you look like you need a wash up. If you like, I can stay in the main room or I can make my way home. I wouldn’t want you to feel unsafe.”

You found yourself asking him to stay as you cleaned up. Maybe you were being naive but he did just save you and you felt he didn’t have anything untoward in mind. When you asked about him, he merely chuckled and told you not to worry.

After you were cleaned and dressed in a nightgown and housecoat (and had added a torrent of tears to the bathwater) you emerged to find Alastor reading the newspaper in a chair. He’d made jambalaya for you both. “My mother’s recipe! So good it nearly killed her!” he quipped. Once you’d eaten you couldn’t keep your exhaustion at bay.

“You’re welcome to spend the night Alastor. I’d hate to send you home in the middle of the night.” The only problem was there was only one bed, yours.

“That is much appreciated Y/N. I can make myself comfortable in the front room for one night. I’ll leave you to rest while I clean up myself.” He pressed his lips to your knuckles and murmured “Bonne nuit, cher.”

Alastor left your sleeping form and made use of your washroom. He cleaned up methodically; it wasn’t the first time he’d had to wash up after a kill. His jacket was ruined, but at least the rest of his clothes were in decent enough shape. At least he wouldn’t scandalize anyone on the way home tomorrow.

Still, he was surprised that you had fought back as much as you had. Evidently that passion from your songs emerged elsewhere too. And the way you dispatched your attacker… he shivered at the beauty of it. The unexpected metal gleam in your hand, the furiously graceful arc as you swung and your perfect aim into the lowlife’s eye.

Alastor wasn’t much interested in pleasures of the flesh, he never had been and wasn’t still. He wanted to see more of you like that. Not scared and in need of rescue, but the hunter he recognized in your eyes.

“It seemed the songbird I’ve admired has talons.”

—————

The next morning you insisted on making breakfast; biscuits and gravy. Alastor seemed to enjoy it but he didn’t leave after eating. You thought he would need to get home before heading to the radio station. When you asked he said he was staying “just in case.”

Just before lunch there was a knock at your door. Alastor was closer so he answered it, almost like he was expecting it. Two policemen stood on the other side. “What can we help you with officers?” Alastor asked jovially.

“Is this the home of a Miss Y/N?” At your affirmative nod, the stockier of the two continued, “We’d like you to come down to the station Miss. We have some questions to ask you.”

“Ah, this must pertain to the dreadful ordeal my dear Y/N went through last night,” Alastor interjected. “Ma cher, why don’t you grab your things and I’ll accompany you.”

“And who might you be?” The lanky officer asked.

“Alastor, my good man. You may have tuned into my radio show!” He smiled thinly as the short one had a flicker of recognition. “I rendered some assistance to Y/N, so it’s probably best if I’m there as well. It would save you gentlemen a trip to my home to escort me in for questions, ha ha!”

By then you had your shoes and bag ready. “Dear you look lovely. Do you have your pin from last night, I’m sure these gentlemen will want to examine it.”

“Oh, that’s an excellent point Alastor.” You placed it in your bag, making sure the cover was on the tip.

Once at the station, you found out the trail from your attacker’s body to your apartment was fairly obvious. Some blood on the bottom of Alastor’s shoes led the way. As for what happened:

“The man accosted me on my way home. I tried to fight back, but he was ever so much stronger. It seems I was loud enough to grab Alastor’s attention. I’m so grateful he stepped in! The beast was distracted and I was able to get ahold of my hat pin. My mother always said not to leave without one and she was right! I meant to just scratch him but I’ve never had to do such a thing before; I hit his eye instead. Before I could do anything else Alastor was between us and then the ruffian was dead.”

“Indeed! I heard Y/N order the lout to release her and I ran up to assist. I had just been dealing with another lowlife who had also been following her. To think there are so many ne’er-do-wells on our streets! In any case, I dispatched the man and assisted Y/N home.” You hadn’t realized there had been another man following you. You shivered at the thought.

“And why were you in the area Mr. Alastor? Records show that neither your home or place of employment are in that area.”

Alastor’s eye twitched but his smile never faltered. “I’d had a lovely evening at the jazz club and felt a late night stroll was in order. I wasn’t even paying attention to where my feet were taking me! Perhaps it was providence guiding my way so I might save the lady’s virtue.”

“Why didn’t you report this to the police?”

“I could barely manage to walk, I was in such a state. Alastor had to carry me home; I was in no condition to report anything, officers.”

“The lady had been assaulted on her way home and forced to defend herself. I felt it would be unworthy of a gentleman to leave her alone in her time of need.”

After a barrage of questions and a thorough examination of your hatpin, Alastor’s knife and the minor injuries you had suffered while being manhandled, the officers let you both go. They would provide all the evidence to the district attorney. But it seemed unlikely that either of you would be charged. You had been defending yourself and Alastor had defended you.

The charming radio host escorted you back home. “Won’t you be late for work at this point?” His broadcast covered a good portion of the afternoon and early evening.

“Hmm, perhaps.” He patted your hand nestled into the crook of his arm. “I still feel your wellbeing is more important however, my dear.” You felt a blush warming your cheeks. “On that subject, I believe you’re due to perform again tonight?” You nodded, he really did enjoy your performances if he knew your schedule. “I believe I will go mad with worry cher, might I escort you there and back home?”

This man was insinuating himself into your life so easily. Perhaps killing a man together had that effect. “Please do Alastor. I don’t believe I will be able to go on my own after yesterday.” You had reached your apartment while talking. “Then I shall return after I complete my broadcast. Until tonight cher.” He kissed your knuckles and saw you through the door before leaving. You turned on your radio and tuned the dial to Alastor’s station. About ten minutes after his broadcast normally began you heard the crackle of his voice.

“Salutations listeners! Thank you for your patience ladies and gentlemen, I know everyone has been eagerly awaiting the show. I am Alastor, a pleasure to be sharing this time with you all.” You sighed in relief. You would have felt terrible if helping you jeopardized Alastor’s job.

You left the radio on, letting his voice fill the apartment while you took care of minor tasks. Eventually he signed off with his normal outro “Until next time dear listeners, thank you and goodnight!” You didn’t know how long it would take for him to get from his station to your apartment but you felt it best to finish getting ready.

So you were dressed for the evening when he arrived. That was the start of a new routine for you both. Alastor walked you to work and back, enjoying the illicit beverages and your voice. Sometimes he would stay the night in your front room but he mostly dropped you off before making his way home.

He was a lovely conversationalist and those walks were much more cheerful than they had been. You felt easy around him in a way that was foreign but fulfilling. Eventually your friends and coworkers at the speakeasy asked if you two were courting.

You honestly couldn’t answer. You’d never had a beau before. According to friends over the years, you had been asked out by a lot of fellows and turned them all down. Was that why none of those men talked to you again? Apparently you hadn’t realized their intentions.

One night, a couple months after the attack, you mentioned this to Alastor. “Isn’t that strange, cher? They think we’re a couple!”

He stopped dead, his lips barely keeping their ever present smile as the rest of his features went blank. “Is…is this what courtship is?” He blinked down at the hand in the crook of his arm, the high heeled feet he had shortened his stride to keep in step with, the new gleaming hat pin he’d gifted you.

“I…am not really sure. I’ve never had a beau before.” You looked up at him, seeing the lips that gently kissed your knuckles every time you parted, the dark auburn hair you would stroke when he was stressed, the patterned bow tie you had given him the same day he gave you the pin. “Although, if this is what courting is, I’m glad it’s with you Alastor.”

“Hmm…” he resumed walking, this time humming one of the songs you sang that night. Once at your place, he finally replied. “I believe I agree with you my dear. Since we are a couple it seems, I’m glad it’s with you, Y/N.” He not only gave your hand a kiss, but leaned down to kiss your cheek as well. “I suppose you can tell your friends tomorrow they were correct. Bonne nuit, ma cher.”

Roughly a month later, Alastor was spending the night in your apartment when you felt the need to ask a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind. “Alastor, cher,” you sat next to him, pulling his attention from the book he was reading. “Had…have you killed other people before that night?”

He froze, which really was all the answer you needed. “Are you still?”

For a man so glib, it took him a moment to find his silver tongue. “And if I am?” He choked out. “What will you do, Y/N?”

You studied him, making sure not to move and not to touch him. “I would ask what sort of people they are. And if they are of the same mold as the men who attacked me…then I’d also ask you to be careful, cher.”

He relaxed slightly. “Unfortunately there are a great many like-minded men in the world, although a few less in this city in the past few years.” He paused. “I can’t help myself dear. I see them acting as they do and feel the need to remove them from this life.”

Gently, you placed a hand over his. “I can hardly blame you for that. Especially after you saved me.” Your other hand turned his head to look into your eyes. “Your secret is safe with me, Alastor.”

The man was usually so composed; it was kind of cute to see him so surprised. He then cupped your cheek and lightly kissed your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned into the kiss.

It was one kiss and it didn’t last long. Pulling back from each other, he licked his lips while you pressed your fingertips to yours. “That was quite nice.” Despite singing so many songs about love, you had never been eager to try out all the steps of romance.

“Indeed it was. Shall we add that to our list of favorable courting actions?” You smiled and pulled out a paper, a fourth of the way filled with a list. You added “kisses on lips” to it.

Before too long, you were helping him with his activities. Initially you assisted in the clean up, but then you started taking part in the kills. Alastor admired your channeled fury and impeccable aim. You admired his precision and calculated execution. The two of you had to be sparing with your activities however. You didn’t want to draw suspicion. The kills were never closer than a week from each other.

Roughly a year after you met Alastor, the subject of marriage came up. It was while you two were disposing of another uncouth man; he made the mistake of trying to get you away from your beau and received knife stabs from both of you. You no longer had to rely solely on your hat pin; you had a stiletto blade of similar size now. Alastor finished covering the body in dirt; he refused to let you help with digging at all. Instead you kept an eye out as he did.

You provided him with a cloth to clean off the dirt. “Merci, ma cher.” Once he was ready you put it back into your bag and linked arms with him. As you walked together, satisfied, he asked, “Y/N, shall we get married?”

The question caught you off guard and you stumbled forward. Just like that first night, he caught you smoothly and lifted you into his arms. “ Alastor, darling, where is this coming from?”

“Some at the radio station inquired as to our relationship. I was informed that a successful courtship as ours generally results in a marriage.” He hummed as he carried you. “After some thought, I realized the prospect of wedding you is…very appealing.”

You nestled into his embrace. “I haven’t given it any thought. It would make life simpler, you wouldn’t have to dash around between our homes and work.” You mulled it over. You would like seeing him every morning instead of on occasion. The thought of your dresses next to his suits in the wardrobe, helping each other clean up after a kill, relaxing quietly on the couch while you both read… “Yes. Let’s get married Alastor. I’d like that.”

He smiled down at you, looking oddly tender considering what the two of you had been doing just half an hour ago. He leaned down to kiss you softly. “Let’s get you home and we’ll work out all the details tomorrow, my dear.”

Initially the two of you planned something simple. But once both your and his coworkers got wind of the nuptials, they insisted on a grand party. Apparently they all felt the two of you were adorably hopeless. Neither of you had realized how invested those around you were in your relationship. You and Alastor concluded that resisting your friends well-wishes was as pointless as resisting a hurricane.

So while the ceremony was a small affair, the party after was held at your club and lasted deep into the night. The proprietors had managed to get a bottle of champagne for you and Alastor. Despite it being your wedding reception, you couldn’t help performing one of Alastor’s favorite songs. He then kept you on the dance floor the majority of the evening. He danced as well as he talked. It was a good thing you’d had over a year as his primary dance partner.

You heard some ribald jokes about his stamina. At least that’s what they sounded like. You still couldn’t tell. Not that it mattered much to either of you. All you cared about was your husband was having a great time, out dancing everyone in the building. Once it was time to leave, he carried you into a cab, then carried you into his home.

Despite what the guests had suggested, he was tired after all that. Frankly you were too. So once divested of all the fancy clothing, he tucked you into the bed and climbed in next to you.

For the first time since you met him, he looked nervous in the faint starlight. Of course. This was so far beyond both of your experiences. You probably looked the same. “Alastor? May I?” You held out your arms to him. He gave you a nod and you embraced him, slowly nestling your body against his. “Let me know if it’s too much, cher,” you murmured as he wrapped his arms around you.

He started to relax with you. His breathing matched yours, your heartbeat synchronized with his. You felt his arms growing heavy, their grip softening. Alastor nuzzled your hair and kissed the crown of your head. “Thank you for marrying me, Y/N.”

You smiled. “Thank you as well Alastor,” you replied before drifting off to sleep.

The two of you did have sex eventually. The first time was a few weeks after the wedding. You were both back to work after a brief honeymoon; when you got back the other singers, the band, even the bartender were all curious about your bedroom activities. They surrounded you while Alastor was conversing with another patron. When all you talked about was how nice falling asleep with him was and the cute sight of him sleeping as the sun rose, they stared at you slack jawed.

Your coworkers consulted amongst themselves. You heard snippets of “do we need to explain this too, did no one tell them about that, they’re both such lookers too, I don’t wanna tell her, you do it, no you, I ain’t gonna tell her.”

After some discussion it seems Mimzy, another singer was appointed to talk to you. “Y/N, sweetie, doll, did your mama ever tell you about the birds and the bees?” She guided you to the bar and requested drinks for you both.

“Mimzy! I do know about sex. Gracious, I’m aware of adult urges and where babies come from.” You threw back your drink. The curvy blonde breathed a sigh of relief; at least she didn’t need to go over the basics.

“That is usually what a honeymoon is for dearie.” Mimzy tossed back her own drink. “Look cutie, what you and your mister do at home is your business, but your friends don’t want you missing out! You two are good together; I’ve never seen either of ya this happy before.” She downed another drink before hopping over to the stage.

Alastor came up to your side. “Looks like your friends are all in a tizzy dear.” You smiled up at him. “Did you have a strange conversation with your colleagues today too?”

“Ah yes,” he leaned on his new cane, a wedding gift. “Concerning my bedroom prowess and your presumed enjoyment thereof.” You couldn’t help but laugh huskily. “The station manager even told me to ‘remember my duties as a husband.’”

You gave him a peck on the cheek. “I believe you’re going above and beyond your duties cher.” He kissed your hand and held it while the two of you listened to Mimzy’s set. “I’d best get up there darling.” You gave his hand a squeeze before going to take the stage.

You sang a mix of familiar tunes and a couple new ones you’d picked up on the honeymoon. To finish the performance, you sang the same number from your wedding night, which you had come to think of as Alastor’s song. Many of the patrons were familiar with the two of you, so listening to you sing to your husband made a number of them go misty eyed.

Once back at home, Alastor cleared his throat while unbuttoning his shirt. “Do you want to, cher?”

You continued to remove your jewelry. “Perhaps one day.” You applied cold cream to remove your makeup. “And you cher? Do you want to?” You asked back as you wiped your face clean.

He was putting up his suit, more intent on making sure it lined up on the hanger than usual. “Perhaps one day,” he echoed. He stopped fiddling with the suit and stood there in his underclothes. Alastor’s ever present smile was still there but his eyes looked lost.

You finished your nightly routine and went to him, asking gently before taking both his hands in yours. “Ma cher, when have we ever been a normal couple? We already have almost a full page of physical affections we enjoy. If we want to see if sex will be on that list one day we can. But not unless we both want to try it.” His smile became more genuine and he pressed both of your hands to his lips. “Thank you my dear.”

You gave him a playful look and started humming the opening bars to his song. Alastor gave you a quizzical look back as you started singing it. Before the first verse was over you pulled him into an impromptu dance. In the privacy of your bedroom, you and your husband danced into the night to your voice. To your delight, he joined you in duets and sang a solo for you as you slow danced together.

“Ah, my sweet songbird. I am glad I married you.”

“I’ve never really seen myself as a songbird before. If anything…” your eye caught sight of your hat pins on your vanity, “more of a shrike.” He looked at you in surprise. “A butcher-bird,” you clarified.

“No no, I’m aware. I never thought of that comparison for you. It fits though, they’re pretty little killers that impale their victims.”

“I’m glad you agree darling. Now, we should get some rest.” You put out the light and pulled him into bed. There was a bit of hesitation on his part as he laid down. But he was soon settling into what was becoming your normal sleeping positions: you nestled against his side with his arms around you.

A few days after that, he asked if you’d like to give sex a try that night. You didn’t have any problems with the idea so almost a month after your wedding the two of you tried it.

Of course you were both terribly awkward; Alastor pulled your hair more than once and you elbowed him in the neck. But the two of you managed it. Multiple times that night in fact. Evidently that was what those stamina comments were about. Afterward, as he held you close Alastor mused. “Hmmm, that was rather enjoyable. I still don’t understand everyone’s fascination but I’m not opposed to the occasional romp as they say. What did you think darling?”

You thought back. “Once we figured things out it was fun. I agree though, I don’t understand why everyone is so obsessed about it. It’s rather messy in the end. And I think we can add it to our list, as an occasional activity.”

He chuckled. “You can add it tomorrow.”

The next day, you joined the other singers chatting before the sets started. One of them was gushing over her new beau and you realized this was a great opportunity to let them know. “Alastor and I had sex last night,” you stated, cheerful and straightforward. Again with the slack jawed looks. “Multiple times actually. I’m glad I’m in such good shape, it was more exertion than I expected.”

After a beat one of the girls asked “Well? How was it?”

“Hm? Oh! It was fun. My legs are pretty tired so I don’t think I’ll be dancing much tonight though. Alastor enjoyed it too, so we decided to do it again someday.” You heard the band warming up. “I’m up first tonight, best get up there.”

As you left the group they started talking rapidly to each other. “Do you think they actually did? Don’t see why not, they are the strangest couple I’ve ever met, at least they’re strange together, I thought for sure one of them would be more excited about doing it…”

Your lives settled into a comfortable routine together. You both continued with your jobs; his broadcast was quite popular and as you increased your skill and song repertoire, you became more successful in the nightlife scene. He accompanied you everywhere which was exactly how you liked it. Every so often the two of you would kill a ne’er-do-well or three. Occasionally you had intercourse. You often danced together, both at the club and at home.

This continued for a number of years. By now almost everyone around you was used to the idiosyncrasies in your marriage and just didn’t question it.

One night in late summer the pair of you were in the woods, hiding the latest kill. As you kept watch in the humid air, Alastor was dumping dirt over the corpse. “Are you sure you don’t need help cher?”

He grunted while lifting more dirt. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I made my darling wife fill a hole like this?” You could only shake your head in amusement. You shifted your feet but lost your footing in the process. Both legs swept out beneath you and you landed firmly on your rear. You did your best not to cry out in case your voice carried.

“Cher!” Alastor dropped the shovel to help you up. “Are you alright Y/N?” You nodded as you grabbed his outstretched hand. “Just slipped, I’ll be fine Alastor.”

You looked up at your husband and noticed that the branches of the nearby trees gave him the illusion of antlers. You were about to mention it when the sharp crack of a rifle rang out and suddenly his forehead blossomed into a spray of blood and brain matter. “ALASTOR!” His name ripped from your throat. He couldn’t hear it though; his smile was wiped away as his body dropped to the ground.

“Aw shit! I thought he was a deer!” The man who killed your husband yelled out, realizing what he’d done. You screeched and ran in the direction of the voice, pulling your hat pin out as you did so. The hunter wasn’t far. You leapt at him, screaming and crying. He was bigger than you but he wasn’t expecting a furious murderess to launch herself at him at full speed. He fell to the ground with you straddling his chest and you plunged the hat pin, the one Alastor gave you for your last anniversary, into the man’s eyes and throat. Over and over you shoved the steel into his face. The blood spray and viscera didn’t scare you anymore.

You faintly heard, “Jesus Mary and Joseph crazy bitch!” through your own screaming. You whirled in that direction to see the second hunter aiming his own rifle at you. You started to move toward him when you felt an intense pain at your brow, followed by nothingness.

—————

Part 2

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin fanfic #alastor x reader #alastor #fluff #acespec #ace representation #asexual

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moon-fics · 1 year

Text

Who Is She?-Simon "Ghost" Riley

A/n: This is definitely a slay! REPOST! This is my work I'm reposting it! I hope ya'll enjoy it!

Summary: You're new to the team but there's something about you Ghost can't quite understand.

Warning: Swears, mention of injury/blood

When Ghost first saw you, he was caught off guard by your appearance. You had a mask that covered the bottom half of your face, an emotionless glaze over your eyes. He almost attacked you with how tense you looked while under his glare, assuming you were an enemy spy snooping around. You got lucky that Price appeared right behind you with a warning look pointed at him. When you noticed Price your body relaxed enough to put Ghost at ease.

“Simon this is-” Your eyes widen as he begins to introduce you. Before Price can continue, you butt in.

“Trick.” You finish Price’s sentence with a low tone. Price is unfazed by your interruption but waits in case you have more to say. After a few seconds, he guesses you don’t want to talk anymore and pats your back.

“She’ll be joinin’ you on the Taskforce’s mission. She’s got inside information that we can use and she’s a bloody good shot.” Ghost is barely listening to Price as he observes you. Your eyes are locked with his and he can’t tell what you’re thinking. Usually, he’s able to read someone quickly, but he can barely stand looking at you directly. There’s something about you that makes him uncomfortable and he can’t figure out what.

“I hope you two can work well together since she’ll be next to you the whole time.” Price has a tone that tells Ghost not to argue.

“Him?” You point at Ghost with curious eyes. Price raises an eyebrow in amusement and nods. Ghost is sure he’s missed an important conversation to make Price chuckle at your confusion.

---

You took Price’s words literally because even before the mission you stand near Ghost. Not close enough to bother him or get in his way, but enough to be noticed by the other teammates. Soap has tried to make conversation with you but whenever it gets too personal you put up a strong wall.

“You should have seen us on our last mission! We barely made it out alive, I’m just glad Ghost didn’ crash the car we used to get away!” Soap explains with a large grin. You nod along, listening to his every word. Ghost is sitting next to you busy making sure Soap doesn’t fabricate any details to make himself seem cooler. “You ever been on missions?”

“I have and they’ve all been successful.” You say nonchalantly as if that isn’t something to be proud of. Ghost can’t help but want to hear about them, but he knows you won’t tell. However, Soap does not and he presses deeper.

“Any impressive injuries? I’m sure ya have a few intense scars!” Just as Soap finishes his sentence there’s a shift in you. From a willingly social attitude to an empty person, your smile falls. The wall builds itself back up and just like that Ghost loses you.

Not a single member has been able to get a single detail of who you are, but Ghost has seen a few things.

For example, you always smell like roses, except one day when you smelled like vanilla, you seemed upset you had a different shampoo. He also notices you like watching him polish his guns, even if that means sitting in silence awkwardly.

Even though you hide the bottom of your mouth he can still tell when you’re smiling or frowning because you’ll allow your eyes to give it away. Those are the only times he can actually get a read on you, any other and you’re like a brick wall. It’s not because you show too many emotions or hide your eyes, you just have nothing within them. Nothing he can understand at least.

You sit next to Ghost as he sharpens his knives carefully. Your eyes never leave his hands and it makes him feel nervous. He doesn’t understand why his hands are sweating and why your eyes are so pretty in this light.

He reaches for another knife to sharpen and your eyes lock onto it. There’s the smallest amount of interest showing and he can’t help but enjoy how comfortable you’ve become with him. It’s only been a couple weeks but you’ve been showing more emotions around him, only him. He sharpens the knife and puts the cover over the blade. He sighs heavily before handing you it. You give him a smile that not even the mask can hide and gladly take it.

Ghost doesn’t converse with you often, instead, he has small moments like this. He honestly prefers silent company over eggshell conversations and he can tell you do too.

A week before the mission you seem to sit closer to him and try to be closer physically. He can’t tell why, but he assumes it’s your nerves. You seem protective over him, keeping an eye out whenever you’re around him. He can’t say he doesn’t enjoy having someone to be alert with.

---

Ghost sits next to you on a rooftop, sniper rifles resting on the edge. It’s dark out now, the stars lighting the sky beautifully. Both of you are sitting against the roof edge waiting for the signal to aim. He hasn’t said a word and neither have you.

After a few minutes, Soap comes on the line telling them the targets are in sight. Ghost was assigned one man while you got the other but knowledge was limited on what to expect. Ghost already has his rifle aimed at his target, but something doesn’t feel right.

“I used to know him.” Your voice is low while staring through the scope of your rifle. It takes Ghost a second to realize you’re talking to him and not yourself. His eyes land on your figure, your hands trembling over the trigger, hesitating. For the first time since he’s met you, he can tell exactly what you’re feeling and he wishes he didn’t. When you pull away from the scope your eyes reflect such an empty void. “It’s a trap!” You yell right as gunfire rings out. Bullets barely miss Ghost’s body and you quickly knock him down. The border around the roof is the only thing keeping the two of you from getting shot.

Ghost watches as you crawl to the roof ladder, the only way off the building. He’s quick to follow, hoping they aren’t too exposed. He’s about to ask how they’ll get onto the ladder without getting killed when you quickly lift him up to his feet. He’s amazed at your strength, almost bamboozled by it. You shove him over the edge and he almost misses the ladder’s steps, gripping them to stop from falling to his death.

“Are you fuckin’ crazy?!” He yells. He’s safe on the ladder, whoever is shooting at them can’t get a view of him here. You on the other hand are extremely exposed and you know this. You have mere seconds to join him on the ladder and yet you don’t. Instead, you disappear from his view, retreating back to the rifles. He screams your name but gets no response. He hears you fire your gun and the sound of screaming from below. You hit your target but compromised yourself in the process. He begins climbing up the ladder to make sure you aren’t dead when your covered face reappears. He sighs in relief, climbing back down to give you room. You make it over the border of the roof and climb down as fast as you can, but it’s not enough. A bullet grazes your shoulder and one hand lets go of the ladder. Blood is soaking through your sleeve and your grunt in pain.

“Fucking climb, dumbass!” You scream at him and he follows your orders even though he’s in charge. You struggle to reach the ground successfully and Ghost has to grab your waist to make sure you even touch it. He’s still surprised by your tone earlier. Not once have you ever raised your voice like that and it kind of amuses him. Once the mission is over he’s going to get more information on you one way or another.

----

You’re leaving the Taskforce soon, you said so yourself yesterday. He was minding his own business, walking back to his room when he ran into you. You didn’t smell like roses, you didn’t smell like anything actually. You seemed distant towards him, unable to make eye contact. Your mask was sloppily put on, revealing a bit of your nose. The way you spoke was cold and it stung him. It felt like all the progress he made with you had been crushed by your wall.

That’s when he decided to confront Price, to get answers on who you are and how you knew the enemy enough to know the mission was a trap.

“Who the bloody hell is Trick? Why did you bring her in for this mission?” He demands. Price is sitting behind his desk, files piled in front of him. He’s not new to Ghost’s frustration and he understands where it’s coming from. You seem to know way more than you let on about the people the force is targeting. Price also understands that it’s not his place to talk about what you’ve gone through.

“Either she tells you or it remains unknown.” Ghost knows better than to argue further, but he can’t watch you leave without all the answers he needs. It’ll eat him up inside with all the questions swarming his head.

So, he heads to your room, his feet stomping the concrete floor. Once he reaches your room he knocks loud enough to wake someone up. He waits a few seconds before banging again. This time he can hear movement from the other side.

You open the door with your mask perfectly on. You have the same infuriatingly empty look on your face and he can’t stand it anymore. He can’t handle all the new emotions inside him, especially how scared he was when he watched the bullet scrape your arm. How fragile you looked as you helped you onto the helicopter back to base. You weren't masking yourself anymore and he could see the fear in your eyes the entire ride back to base.

“Who the fuck are you?” He’s harsh with his words and you don’t even move. He’s never been angry towards you, sure you’ve seen him yell at someone, mainly Soap, but never you.

“I didn’t think you’d actually ask.” Your words reboot his brain. He was expecting push back or a refusal of information, instead, you step away from the door and wait for him to enter your room. It’s going to be a long night.

“I knew the target because I used to date him.” You explain, sitting on your bed. You’ve answered all of Ghost’s questions, every single one he can think of. You were open to him for the first time and you didn’t hide your emotions, you let them out. It’s a sight only he’ll get to see and he’s happy about it. “It was before I knew what he was doing, I swear. I had already been trained for combat before I met him so it was easy to escape. I had already begun taking out his connections when Price invited me to the team.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Is all he can ask, it’s his last question. He knows you’re probably exhausted from hearing him ask so many things.

“I was ashamed that I dated a man as bad as him. I know it wasn’t my fault, I didn’t know about what he was hiding, but still.” You hum.

There’s a long silence, Ghost digests the information you’ve given him and he begins to understand you more. Price most likely handed you to him because he knew you’d be comfortable around someone who doesn’t talk as much as the rest of the team. You wouldn’t be questioned by him and you wouldn’t feel as inclined to hide.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see your hands coming up to your face. You remove your mask revealing a scar along your lip. It’s not deep but it’s noticeable. That’s the final indicator that you trust him, that maybe these feelings he’s been having aren’t solely his.

“So, what now?” You question, your voice soft. A single word pops into his head the second you spoke, and it grows bigger the longer he remains quiet. It’s practically screaming itself in his head.

“Stay.” Your eyes are wide when looking at them and he loves what he sees inside them. There’s a spark of hope, something he’s never seen from you. It makes him challenge himself to see if he can cause that same look every day.

“Maybe I will.”

#ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost cod x reader #cod x reader #cod x y/n #cod x you #modern warfare x you #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare 2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you

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another-lost-mc · 11 months

Text

DIAVOLO x gn!Reader 1.2k Words | NSFW | Explicit | Making Out, Marking, Oral Sex (m!receiving) CW: Mentions of alcohol. -> Prompt: Kissing in an Alley Behind a Bar [ Obey Me! Masterlist ]

Diavolo makes every date with you an adventure. He loves exploring all the things in the human world that you used to take for granted; everything excites him, and it’s difficult not to be excited too.

Tonight he asked you to join him on a date at a human world bar. Bars aren’t really your thing, and you don’t drink much at the best of times, but you agreed anyway. It’s hard to say ‘no’ to the demon prince that asks you for so little, while the love in his eyes promises you the whole world just for being by his side.

Most of the time when you go on human world excursions, Diavolo is overdressed for the occasion. He looks handsome, sure, but his large stature and expensive, perfectly-tailored suits draw a lot of attention.

(You try not to grumble too much when other people blatantly stare at him, or try to flirt with him even though you’re standing right there, your arm obviously linked with his. Even though he doesn’t say anything, he knows you get a little jealous—and he makes it up to you later in the privacy of his bedroom and shows you why you have nothing to be jealous of.)

You wait patiently for Diavolo in the main foyer of the Demon Lord’s Castle while he finishes getting ready. You grin and ask Barbatos which suit Diavolo plans to wear tonight, but he looks far too smug when he hints that you might be disappointed.

Diavolo’s voice echoes when he greets you from the top of the staircase nearby. You turn towards the staircase and wave, but your own greeting dies in your throat. You expect him to come bouncing down the steps in one of his three-piece suits. You didn’t expect him to wear a black leather jacket you’ve never seen before, or the slim-fitted white t-shirt underneath, or the dark wash jeans that hang low on his hips and cling to his muscular thighs.

His joyful smile sharpens when he’s close enough to slip his hand in yours, and you realize you’ve been staring (and probably drooling). Your mouth opens and closes a few times while you try to think of something to say.

I want to climb you like a fucking tree doesn’t seem appropriate in present company, even though Barbatos has caught you both in compromising positions before.

“You look nice,” is the most eloquent reply you can manage in that moment; your voice is a bit higher than usual, and you want to die when your voice cracks.

Also, when did it get so hot in here?

Diavolo beams at your compliment (and very obvious once-over). “I thought I would try a different look today, considering the very casual nature of our date location.” He escorts you to the portal Barbatos conjures for you, and he leads you in the direction of a local pub his butler located for you in advance.

The demon prince grunts when his back slams against the bar’s rough brick exterior, but his eyes glitter with anticipation under the flickering street lamp overhead. His devilish smile is wide and full of teeth, and he traces his fangs with the tip of his tongue while he drinks in your needy expression.

“If I’d known bringing you to such a place would have this result, I would’ve done so much sooner,” he chuckles as he tilts his head back to give you access. You moan against his neck and scrape your teeth along the skin of his throat; he exhales a shuddered sigh grips your waist to drag you even closer to him.

“It’s those fucking jeans, and that shirt, and it’s—it’s everything about you,” you nearly whine against his collarbone between clumsy, open-mouthed kisses against his skin. Your hands slide under the thin material of his shirt, and he twitches when you graze the ticklish skin of his belly.

“I’m yours,” he promises in a rough voice, and his hand cradles your nape and forces you to look at him. “All yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“You big sap,” you scold him half-heartedly, but your breathy voice lacks any real heat. You push yourself against the firm, muscular planes of his chest and slot your mouth against his in a desperate kiss. You can taste the alcohol on his tongue when you lick into his mouth, and you chase the bittersweet taste with your own

He swallows your breathy sounds as he moves against you in a frenzied kiss. His own deep growls punctuate the wet sounds of his lips and tongue caressing yours. He jerks his hips when you run your hands over his chest and tweak his nipples between your fingers.

He’s hard and straining in these jeans he bought specially for you, and his body burns so hot he feels like you're consuming him. He's not going to last long no matter how you touch him. The only thing he knows is that he doesn't want to paint the inside of his pants when he can be inside you somehow instead.

“I want you,” he pants as you kiss a sloppy trail across his jaw and down his neck. Your muffled uh-huh tickles his skin and he pulls your hips flush against his. He grinds himself harder against you while you suck a mark below his ear.

(Diavolo knows Barbatos will disapprove of the mark and insist he cover it up later. He doesn’t want to, though—he would wear all your bruises and bitemarks proudly. He wants everyone in the Devildom and all the realms beyond to know that it's his bed you warm each night.)

The alley is dark and grimy and off-putting, but Diavolo still wonders how he can fuck you against the cold brick wall without roughing up the soft skin of your back. His train of thought breaks when you suddenly drop to your knees; the desire radiating from you in waves overwhelms him.

When he scents the air, he can smell your soap and your sweat, and below that, he can pick up the faint traces of the arousal that's dampening the inside of your pants. It makes his mouth water and he has to remind himself to be patient.

He throws his head back with a moan as his large hands stroke the sides of your face. “You’re so perfect for me,” he grits out. “I'm going to fuck you against this wall before I take you home.” He knows you're both desperate, and his dirty promises make you whine, a high-pitched noise that makes his cock ache. He tries not to buck his hips against your face when you rub your cheek against the rough denim covering his aching cock. He hears the soft sounds of metal clinking together when your nimble fingers loosen his belt.

“You'd better,” you mutter against him, tongue flicking against the wet spot of his boxer briefs before you pull them down.

You should've guessed all along what he wanted when he brought you here of all places. You wait until he looks at you properly—

—with his tousled hair and dark, lustful gaze blown-black, and his spit-slicked and swollen lips, and his chest heaving with anticipation and the control it takes for him not to push you against the rough brick behind him and impale you on his cock—

—and then you finally swallow him down.

#obey me diavolo #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me diavolo x reader #diavolo x reader #obey me smut #omswd smut #diavolo smut #obey me diavolo x mc #diavolo x mc #obey me diavolo x you #diavolo x you #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #x reader #gn!reader #jes.2k event

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apomaro-mellow · 4 months

Text

King&Prince 5

Steve's sleep at this point was mostly restless. It was hard to get comfortable down here, being a dungeon and all. And he was already a light sleeper by nature. Still, it took him longer than he liked to realize he was being watched. He'd awakened, feeling slightly colder than normal. He didn't hear footsteps or breathing, nor had any of the torches lit. Yet he could feel eyes on him. Someone was here. And it was something inhuman.

He could imagine a drooling maw opening wide and then snatching shut. Or a clawed hand reaching out to gouge. Slowly, Steve reached out for one of the stray bricks in his cell.

He turned and shot up quick, brandishing the rock only to find nothing. It was still completely dark, but he didn't feel the presence anymore. He dropped the rock and sat back down, still feeling tired but now completely awake. He stayed up, watching the bars of his cell until someone came to light the torches and deliver his breakfast.

----------------------

"He looks pathetic", Eddie said, feet propped up onto the table.

"He's been sleeping in his own filth this whole time, of course he does", Nancy said, arms crossed.

"Are you sure his father isn't coming to save him?", Jeff asked.

Eddie had sent the ransom letter on a demobat. He was able to connect to any of the creatures in his domain and he'd kept this one tethered just to see and hear what King Alric would say once he'd received the message. The demobat had heard it loud and clear and relayed to Eddie the fact that his letter had been burned.

"No one from that kingdom is coming for him. He's been abandoned", Eddie said. Not too long ago, he would have said that with glee, maybe even dancing. But after seeing the state that Steve was in last night...

"So what's the next move?", Nancy asked. "You're not just thinking of letting him go, are you?"

Jeff stood up. "Why not? He's no use to us if he's a worthless prince. We might as well send him back."

"Send him back to what?", Eddie shot up. "His own father threw him away like trash." He went over to the window, gazing at the view of his kingdom at sunset. "I can't return him to that."

"Are you suggesting that you keep him as a pet?", Nancy raised a brow.

Eddie snorted. "Not me. Robin can have him. She's been wanting some help corralling the kids for their music lessons and to rearrange the storage for instruments."

"You're going to make a prince be Robin's lap dog?", Jeff snickered.

"She'll love it", Eddie grinned.

------------------------

"I don't want him", Robin said as they went down to the dungeons.

"Too bad, he's yours", Eddie said.

"Do I at least get a leash?"

Eddie stopped when they got to Steve's cell. "I think he's already broken."

A brick thrown at the bars said otherwise.

"I think he's still got some fight in him", Robin snarked.

Eddie looked the prince up and down. He looked more like a street urchin than a member of a royal family. Covered in dirt and grime and probably other things. Eddie took a key from his pocket and started to unlock the cell.

"Time for my execution?"

"More like it's time for you to earn your keep around here", Eddie said as he slid the bars open. "You've been getting free meals and your own room to boot. I bet it's barely a change from back home."

Steve stood up suddenly and jabbed a sharpened piece of brick at the monster before him. His wrist was caught easily though and he ended up pinned against a wall. He didn't let up though, trying to land a hit until the king had both of his wrists held above his head and his lower half was being pressed by his hips, keeping him from kicking out. It didn't help that all this time being trapped and fed scraps had made his body weak.

"A rather valiant effort. You almost got close to laying a hand on me."

"Fuck you", Steve bit out. "I'm not working for you or for anyone here."

"You don't have much of a choice. I'm not in the business of letting people rot away useless. So you will be of use to my household in whatever way I see fit."

Steve thought of the horror stories he'd been told as a child. This beast could shift into anything and rip him apart. Why was it that right now, he was holding back? He had just tried to murder him Was he that little of a threat? Or maybe he was trying to keep from damaging the goods, lest his father go back on any deals to get him back.

"You can go ahead and execute me then. I'd rather die than be of use to you." Steve was surprised when he was released. It was so quick that he couldn't help but stumble.

"You would rather die than be a hostage for ransom? A little late for that, isn't it? And if you die, there goes negotiations."

"I don't know what my father has promised you for my return, but I don't fucking care anymore."

Steve hadn't even raised his voice, but the silence that followed was deafening. How long had he felt this way? His home wasn't a home anymore. His parents had already been shipping him off in the hopes of bettering him and meeting their standards. The difference between this cold dungeon and their frigid stares were very minimal.

He met the king's eyes but his expression was unreadable. Someone cleared their throat and Steve looked to the woman who had come with him. There was a trio of guards surrounding her now. Why a creature of chaos and darkness needed guards, Steve didn't know. Honestly, he was surprised to see as many humans as he had so far.

"Get him cleaned up", King Edward ordered. "Then take him to Robin's study."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "You can't be serious. I told you I don't want him!"

He walked out of the cell and the guards entered, taking a hold of Steve easily despite his struggling. He was taken out of the dungeons for the first time since he arrived. The castle's architecture and decor looked...homey. It was still grand, as most castles were, but Steve could hear people talking. Just talking. Some of them laughing. It was quite the change from his own castle's silent walls, but Steve wasn't able to take it in much before he was thrust into a room with a steaming bath.

He wanted to cry but then he immediately got into a defensive mode, expecting the guards to forcibly undress him and toss him in. Instead, once they released him, they left the room. He was surprised but not too surprised to see that they had locked the door behind themselves. Resigned, Steve took off his rags and stepped into the tub.

He couldn't help the soft moan that left his lips as he submerged. Instantly, his mood lifted. He soaked for a while, and then began to wash in earnest before the water could cool. He knew he'd been filthy but seeing the color of the water when he got out made him shiver. Steve dried off and looked around for something to wear. On the sink, a folded bundle got his attention.

While the prince was washing up, Robin was working in her study, trying to figure out what the prince could even do.

"You could always keep him busy with some heavy lifting", Eddie offered, being very helpful by sitting off to the side and tossing nuts into his mouth.

"You're really not going to tell him, are you? About his father's refusal to come?"

"...I think part of him already knows." Eddie had seen that look many times before. When Nancy had shown up at his doorway, tiny Mike in tow. When he'd found El causing a ruckus in one of his towns. Even the vision of Max popped up in his head. They had all been leaving something behind. But that something turned out to be absolutely nothing to them.

Prince Steven, coming from a long line of Harringtons, born in the lap of luxury with a legacy secured as long as he stayed in line...he didn't want any of it.

Eddie wanted to know why.

Part 7

And he's out of the cell!

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie @goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble @sugartin @jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24 @justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve: you'll be playing the role of my father #robin: i don't wanna be your father #steve: good you already know your lines

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yeyinde · 1 year

Note

I know you like soft König but

https://twitter.com/ultimatedoodles/status/1599245417639968770?t=hR2LsyI6Qhs6eh_Bvh1bnw&s=19

you've convinced me 😳

Imagine being on the wrong side of him, and being hunted down by this hulking behemoth. It would be a feral, deadly game of cat and mouse with a man who could quite literally deadlift you over his head and snap you like a glow stick.

You hear him cursing when you slip away, his voice echoing off the brick. Grating. Booming. You think you found the perfect spot to hide, and you wedge yourself into the alcove. Breath held tight in your lungs as he passes by, muttering curses in German, and snapping into his comms. It fades. Trickling out.

Then, it goes quiet. Deadly still.

You breathe a sigh of relief. He's gone. Still. You wait. And wait. Silence. Nothing. Gunfire echoes in the distance. You need to move, to put as much distance between yourself, and the Haden being slicing through the shadows trying to find you as you possibly can.

You start to crawl out, fingers scratching at the gravel so desperately that your nails tear, leaving streaks of blood–blood red eyes; a voice that sounds like a raw, festering wound–on the stone.

An inch away from your delicate, fragile fingers, a black boot drops. Another one. They're the length of your shins, and crunch the cobblestone, grinding it into dust.

The heft of him seems to shake the ground. It jars you. Your bones rattle. Chattering. Fear pools in your guts.

You look up, and the bulk of him seems to stretch into the infinite cosmos. Shrouded in black. A mask covers his face, and the sight of it reminds you of a pall. You shiver when the eyes cutting through narrow slits sharpen.

He climbed the fire escape, waiting for you.

And now–

"Du gehst mir auf den Keks," he grinds the words out, eyes flashing in red-hot anger. Victory. "But I've finally caught you, maus."

#ummmm #könig #könig x reader #könig x you #cod könig #cod #könig call of duty #im deffffffo a dark könig convert now

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the-broken-pen · 14 days

Note

Hiii, I love your writing! It's so great that you're back! Could you write something like two actors are playing hero/villain in a movie or theater, but both of them sometimes just gets too in character/or just gets too stuck in character, so for like moments they actually forget that they are just acting?

“You didn’t think I’d let you die by anyone else’s hand but mine, did you?” The villain cocked their head to the side, grinning.

Distantly, the hero registered the whispering of stage commands, but tuned it out.

“You can’t just kill anyone who threatens me,” they argued back. They watched as the villain’s grin sharpened.

“Watch me,” the villain whispered, stepping closer. Fake blood was drying on the side of the hero’s head, and it itched more than usual. Must be a new brand from costuming.

“I could arrest you,” they offered, but they let the hesitation show on their face. Visible enough for the camera to catch their unwillingness, no matter how fake it was. Good enough nobody could tell the difference between real and not.

“You won’t.”

The hero tipped one head to the side

“And why’s that?”

The hero shifted, leaning in towards the villain.

“Because you’re mine,” the villain whispered, tone playful as their eyes seared into the hero’s.

The hero’s mouth went dry. It wasn’t on purpose.

Something kindled in their chest.

“Oh yeah?”

The villain shrugged one shoulder in perfect time to the script, and the hero pulled the next line to the tip of their tongue—

“Prove it.”

That was not the next line.

That wasn’t a line at all.

The villain blinked just once, the only sign of surprise they would allow, before their grin widened. Their shoulders loosened into something feral, something that delighted in this change.

Something that belonged off-stage.

“I’m covered in the blood of the people who hurt you,” the villain’s voice was smooth sliding down the hero’s spine. They shivered. “What more proof do you want, love.”

They blushed furiously at the nickname, even underneath the stage makeup, and at the pleased look on the villain’s face, it was visible.

What was the line what was the line what—

Their hands fisted into the front of the villain’s costume, dragging them closer. The villain let them, hand settling on the hero’s waist in a movement far too smooth.

“I don’t know,” the hero murmured, and they were just as surprised as the villain when their lips hovered just over the other’s ear. “Why don’t you stop trying to kill me, for starters.”

The villain tugged them closer, and the hero’s eyes went to their lips.

The villain looked at the hero like they wanted to devour them.

Fuck, what had been the line—

“Oh, but you’re so pretty covered in blood, Hero,” the villain crooned, and the hero opened their mouth to say something, their tongue a separate entity from their brain at this point—

“Hold!” Someone off-stage called, and they both froze. A second later, they were halfway across the stage from one another. Slipping out of being the hero and back into being themself felt like hitting a brick wall.

If the way the villain shuddered was any indication, they had forgotten they were playing a character too.

The hero turned away to face the tech crew, hand settling over their face to hide their blush.

The villain’s gaze was molten and heavy on their shoulders, even from as far away as they were.

“I don’t think that’s in the blocking,” the stage manager frowned, flipping through the script.

None of that was the blocking. No matter how much the stage manager searched those pages they would never find those lines.

Fuck.

“Improv,” the hero choked out, flushing. “It was, uh. A creative choice—“

From behind one of the curtains, they heard a crew member snort, muttering something about teenage actors and horniness—

The villain was smirking, a wicked thing.

“Right,” the stage manager said slowly, brow furrowed from where they sat. They murmured something into their headset, eyes shifting up between the villain and the hero, before they slid a screen in front of themself.

Just barely, the hero could make out the shape of the scene they had just filmed.

The screen went black, the room silent for a moment, before the stage manager let out a long suffering sigh.

“We’re changing the blocking.”

“What?” The hero yelped.

The villain settled their hands into their pockets, unbothered and grinning.

“We’re keeping the scene,” the stage manager nodded towards their tablet, and the hero almost passed out on the spot. They watched the stage manager eye the pleased and possessive look on the villain’s face. “For now, though, let’s call it a wrap for the day.”

Shuffling began, lights flickering off, and the hero escaped to their own dressing room, panting slightly.

Dear god, they were so fucked. They had forgotten they were acting, again—

“Improv, hm?” The villain grinned, lock sliding into place. The hero hadn’t even heard them come in.

The hero groaned. “I don’t know what happened—“

“Yeah,” the villain nodded, and they were closer than they had been a moment ago.

The hero swallowed.

“I’m sorry.”

The villain raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

The hero waved one hand between them. “For, you know—“

The villain was still smiling.

It was then they remember who had fought so hard in the writers’ room for the villain and the hero to end up together.

‘Enemies to lovers,’ the villain had said, eyes dark. ‘The fans will love it. There’s been sub plot for the last two seasons.’

The directors had pushed back, but now—

Oh. The villain wasn’t mad.

They were pleased.

The hero choked.

“You,” the hero tried.

“Me,” the villain agreed, and then they were kissing, all-consuming and desperate.

They made a noise in the back of their throat, the villain twining their hand into the hero’s hair.

“You forgot you were acting,” the villain murmured against their lips, and kissed them again before the hero could defend themself. “That I’m not really your villain and you aren’t my hero.”

The villain settled the hero onto the counter, coming to stand between their legs, one hand on their hip.

“Fuck,” they gasped, and they could feel the villain’s grin against their skin.

“Mhm.”

Somehow, the hero’s arms had ended up looped over the villain’s shoulders.

“Maybe stop killing people, and I’ll consider it,” they said between breaths.

“What?” The villain pulled back slightly.

“The line I forgot,” the hero said. They could drown in the villain’s eyes, they were sure of it. “Maybe stop killing people—“

“Don’t care,” the villain bit out, and then their mouth was on the hero’s again and nothing else mattered.

Maybe they weren’t truly hero and villain—but god were they good at pretending.

Three months later, the internet couldn’t decide what was better—that finally, after years, the hero and villain had ended up together on screen; or that off stage, their actors were desperately, hopelessly in love too.

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97keanu · 8 months

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shotgunning a cigarette with john wick (especially young jardani) is all i can think abt right now

John's breath is visible in the cold of the night, the stink of the city rising from the gutters in the alley. You take a deep drag from the cigarette he passed you earlier. It fills your lungs with welcomed smog, and you exhale before your lungs can protest the chemicals being held for too long. Neither of you speak as the smoke dances in the air between you two. You don't need to. This little routine of yours has been suiting you both quite nicely without many words so far.

You look out into the starless night, tapping the cigarette off to the side before passing it back to John without looking. You think about how different things are for people like you. How much your feet ache despite leaning against the brick wall for support. Your ruined toes from the strict ballet routines, the callouses on your hands matching the blisters on blisters.

You don't want to think about what they teach John. You know he's due for his first true mission soon, you're both beginning to be old enough to truly start being of value to the 'family's' business.

You don't notice John's sharp eyes caressing your features. You only glance over when your thoughts drift away, and the craving for another hit of the cigarette hits. You catch his stare, and he doesn't look away, he isn't one to be embarrassed about something like that. You wonder for a moment how long he's been eyeing you, but ignore it, and reach a hand out towards that little fire John holds in his hand between you. He pulls it back, not cruely, but as if he must.

This surprises you, but you don't know what to say. John speaks for the first time tonight.

"I'm headed off tomorrow night." he says it plainly, no deeper explaining, but you know what this means. He is going out to kill for the first time, for real, not the sparing he does with the other boys. No, he will use the sharpened skills he's learned, or he won't be back. You say nothing, but you give a small, short nod of understanding, and one of your hands reaches to smooth the white, fluffy tuelle of your ballet dress. John continues.

"I want to try something with you, if you'll let me..." He isn't nervous when he speaks. He says everything so plainly, but right now you know whatever he is suggesting is important to him, so you turn towards him fully. You look deep into those brown eyes, practically as black as the night sky above right now, only a small overhead yellowing light on the side of the building casting a glow on both of you. He sees your willingness to listen, and the space between the two of you closes so slowly, you hardly notice John is even moving towards you. He is truly, stealthy.

"Stop me if this displeases you..." His voice has softened, just barely, the words ebbing upwards with the frost of his breath. You know he means it when he says that, you trust that he would never do something to displease you to begin with, but your heart picks up as he moves closer. He brings that glowing ember back to his lips and takes a deep drag, tendrils of smoke escaping his mouth as he pulls the cigarette away at last.

He closes the gap between you until he is leaning down, his height having always been there, suddenly more noticeable. John hasn't released the smoke from his lungs, not yet. He's savoring the moment. His hand is warm when it touches your waist, bringing you in until your lips are brushing his, both of you open and waiting for the other. You give a small movement towards him for the first time since this started, and that's all he needs.

John presses lips into yours with a hunger, a need barely kept at bay, still restrained. He is well trained, indeed. He kisses you, moving gently in sync with your lips, and you respond perfectly in time. You are also trained, synchronicity coming easy to a ballerina like you.

John's lungs must be aching by now, but the kiss goes on, one of his large hands reaching up to place a thumb against the base of your neck, feeling you there, and then wrapping so gently to crook you deeper into him. You feel a moan bubble up from the gesture, and feel as if you are but a swan in wolf's teeth. John bites your lower lip gently, pulling it down and asking you to open. You oblige, and he softly breathes the smoke he has been holding into your awaiting lungs.

You take it hungrily, softly sucking in to meet what has been contained inside him. You feel as if more than just smoke has entered your body. You can feel a piece of John, as if he is giving you some small part of him. As if to say, 'if I don't make it back, remember this part of me, the part that didn't kill. The part that breathed life into another. Carry it with you.' Your cheeks burn in the cold as your lungs fill to the brim and the rest over flows and descends upwards into the night.

John seals the breath he's given you with a final, passionate kiss. It's as if he's stamped your petal like lips with a flame that wasn't supposed to grow there. When his lips pull away, leaving heavy breaths and even heavier lids looking, searching deeply into one another, you can't help but feel like John has lit a coalfire in the pit of your stomach. From the look he's giving you, you can tell he feels the same, maybe even better knowing what he's done to you, how he's tainted you before he must take his leave.

"John..." His name drifts from your lips onto his, and he stops you with the brush of another kiss.

"We should go back inside..." He hasn't taken his eyes off you, you're still so close it hurts. You know he's right, but this moment is intimacy that neither of you have every been allowed here, in this place that teaches only death. You search him, a hand you didn't notice is gripping his shirt. You hold that fabric tightly, and your knuckles shake when your mind thinks to let go.

"I know..." John says simply, and you know he does. "Meet me here again, in a days time, as we usually do."

"But..." You begin, not able to bring yourself to the 'what if' of no one being here when you come.

"I would not allow myself to let you down. You know that." And you do. John will do everything in his power to make sure your little ritual out here is unbroken. You know he will come back. He must. Your grip loosens, and you two part. You both go back to your comfortable silence, and head inside.

The heat of John's lips and hand around your throat hold you through out that night. You dream of a wolf who takes you gently in it's teeth. It doesn't let go.

Next part here!

#john wick x reader #young!john wick x reader #jardani jovonovich #john wick x you #john wick drabble #john wick fanfic #my writing #ask lila #••• ◛ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵐᵃⁱˡ!#keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months

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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 1: You Shouldn't Have Answered The Door

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter one of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (once or twice), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Masterlist

Chapter 2

******************************************

Present Day

Your head rests against your forearms on your desk, jerking upwards as a loud rhythmic knocking assaults the front door of your apartment.

What?

You think to yourself, rubbing your face with your hands. Your sketchpad was laid open on your desk beneath your head, the rough sketch of an egret bowing its head along the bank of a small pond splayed over the page in shades of gray. It would be the first in your new series of nature paintings that you would be unveiling in a month.

At least I didn't poke my eye out with the pencil. You think eyeing the sharpened point of the pencil that was dangerously close to your face a few seconds ago.

You turn your wrist to glance at your watch and note the time. It was an antique, square faced and strung on a simple black band, a reminder of a past life that you couldn't bear to part with.

Who would come see me at 8:00 am on a Monday?

For a minute you try to remember if you'd received a call from the curator of the gallery downtown, or if there had been a meeting or a lunch with your agent to discuss your next installment of work, but nothing comes to mind.

When you officially retired from being a hero you decided to become a full time artist, a hobby you had since you were a child. You hadn't expected it explode. You had enough money from your heroing career to live several lifetimes, not unwelcome given the fact that you couldn't die, not in the traditional sense at least, so art was supposed to just be a way for you to off steam. But you were happy with your life now, a lot happier than you had been when you were a hero on Payback. The thought of your previous employment with Vought sours in your mouth followed by the unavoidable thought of Ben that you push down with a well practiced sigh.

You didn't feel like reliving all that over again right now, though you knew it would probably happen later. It came in waves, especially at night when you found it difficult to sleep, the melatonin wasn't working, and all you really wanted was a hard drink.

Sobriety sucked.

The knocking persists, rattling around in your head like a bee trying to get out of a plastic cup.

"Fine. I'm coming." You shout standing up from your desk and making your way from the wall that serves as your studio towards the front door of your apartment, while trying to rub away the line the page made on your cheek.

Your apartment was the one extravagance you allowed yourself. Despite the amount of money you had, flashing it had never been a priority even in your hero days. The apartment was open concept with exposed brick walls, tall North facing windows that angled away from the inside and jutted outward over a raised wooden floored area that served as your studio. A large modern kitchen sat just to the right of the front door with stainless steel appliances, on another wall a tv hung above a leather couch and held a dark hallway that lead to your bedroom and the guest bedroom, the other walls were covered in your work, and the final wall held several bookshelves with art supplies and your vinyl record collection. A collection you started forever ago and that continued to grow with each passing year.

Need to get another bookshelf. You note looking at the limited space that remained.

You look through the peep hole in the solid metal apartment door. A tall dark haired man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a black duster and a thin younger guy with brown curly hair stare back at you.

"I don't want to buy any girl scout cookies." You shout through the heavy metal of the door.

The younger guy snorts.

"y/f/n y/l/n?" The dark haired man asks an accent tilting the ends of his words.

"Who's asking?"

He pulls out a badge, holding it up to the peep hole. "I'm Agent Butcher, this is Agent Campbell. We’re from the CIA, here to ask you a couple of questions about Soldier Boy."

At the mention of Ben's hero name you pause. You had avoided thinking about your former best friend as much as possible over the past forty years. Your relationship with Ben was complicated, the final few days you spent together even more complicated than the early years.

It hurt to compare what your life with him was like before you both became supes to the life you had together after. You had grown up together, forced into close proximity because your parents were friends and then became best friends yourselves. You stayed friends, before you both got injected with Compound V and a few years later moved on to Payback together. You were the only person able to keep Ben in check and as violent as his temper was, he didn't like to cross you. You were the only person who knew the real him, had been with him longer than anyone else. Not that he ever admitted that to you or admitted that he cared about you, but you thought somewhere deep down that he had to, felt at least something for you.

That was the problem. You were in love with him, cared deeply about him, cared more about him than anyone else you'd ever had in your life. On the night you finally slept together you were happy, you thought he felt the same way, and then the next day at his premiere you found him in the bathroom with Countess bent over a sink. The fight that followed had been your resignation from Payback and also the reason why you weren't there when Ben died.

Your jaw clenches together at the memory, followed by guilt. You were always there for him, you had his back just as he had yours, but the one time you hadn't been there-

You open the door to look at them. "The singer?"

"What?" Agent Butcher looks confused.

"The artist? Soulja Boy-" You arch a brow feigning confusion. "Because honestly I don't understand why the CIA would be asking me about that."

“No.” Agent Butcher holds up a photo.

You keep your face impassive. It’s a photo of Ben and you at a movie premiere the week before he left to go to Nicaragua. Both of you were standing in your supe suits, your own was a sleeveless black one piece suit with purple embellishments that traced from the sides of your ankles and stretched up under your armpits, while a dark hood covered your head and a black mask hid the bottom of your face. You always thought you looked more like a supervillain in it, but you were thankful that it hid your identity. It was so long ago, but you still remember that night clearly. The ridiculous movie, the afterparty where everyone was so tipsy and the smell of alcohol burned against your nose, and finally when you went to the bathroom and found Ben and Countess together, the immeasurable rage followed by heartbreak that you felt when you saw them. Not to mention the fight that followed when Ben trampled all over your heart and stated that you meant nothing to him.

“You’re here to talk to me about my mom?” You flit your eyes back to the two men standing in the doorway, easily slipping into the lie that you and Legend invented.

“Your mom?” Agent Campbell looks confused.

“Yeah. Indigo? I mean y’all can come in if you want-“ You open the door wider, understanding that they won't leave, before you begin to move towards the kitchen. “I apologize in advance. I’m not quite myself, I was up late working.” You pause halfway into the kitchen. “I’m going to make some coffee, you guys want some?” You eye the man in the black coat. "Or tea?"

“Coffee is fine."

You find the coffee filters and shuffle through the cupboards to find a bag of coffee, still trying to wake up. Staying up late wasn't unusual for you. You tended to find the urge to create in the wee hours of the morning, not to mention everything that happened in the past kept you up.

You open the bag of coffee to smell the grounds, thinking that it will wake you up, but as soon as you do the smell of Agent Butcher and Agent Campbell washes over you.

You could smell the compound V in their veins pumping through their bodies with every beat of their hearts.

So, they're supes. You think to yourself, pouring the grounds into the coffeemaker. Which means they probably aren't from the CIA.

Despite the realization, you weren't worried. Your particular ability was a well-kept secret, a secret that only Ben knew despite you being on Payback. Stan Edgar and the others had believed that "Indigo," the hero name assigned to you, had enhanced strength and senses, but it was more than that. You had an ability that, if brought to the public, would probably land you in a government facility. Laying low had it's perks, your freedom was one of them.

You watch them begin to walk around your living room examining the artifacts of your new life, the one you crafted when everything fell apart. There wasn't anything in the living room to arouse suspicion that you were the original Indigo. The only remnants of your past life that remained were in a wooden trunk at the back of your walk in closet, hidden behind a collection of paint splattered overalls almost identical to the pair you were wearing right now.

"You've got a nice place." The younger guy says looking around.

"Thanks. It's rent controlled. I got lucky-" You fiddle with the coffeemaker to buy yourself some time.

Why were they here to ask me about Ben? It had been 40 years, hardly seems relevant now. And why were they pretending to be CIA?

"You're an artist?" Agent Butcher asks, staring at the canvas sitting on an easel by your desk. It was a collection of multicolored dark greens that swirled together, flecked with pieces of gold that shone in the brilliant sunlight from the wall of windows where your studio was.

"Yeah. And I tend to paint my best at night. Hence the coffee" You turn, placing your hands on the island to face the two men.

“You’re really good.” Agent Campbell says examining some of the canvases on the wall.

“Thanks.”

“So your mum eh?” Agent Butcher turns to look at you. You note the smirk on his face and incredulous raising of his brow.

He doesn't believe me. Hard not to. I don't age.

“Yes?” You raise an eyebrow to challenge him

“You look a lot like her.”

“Thanks. I think there’s a compliment in there somewhere.” You look from Butcher to the younger guy who has moved on to look at your vinyl collection. "And I'm pretty sure that most kids look like their parents. But I'm not a geneticist."

"NO WAY! You have a signed copy of Billy Joel's Glass House!" Agent Campbell shouts holding up the vinyl cover in awe.

"Yeah." You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm.

"How did you-“

"Hughie." Agent Butcher sighs.

The younger guy now identified as Hughie puts the record back with a frown, before turning back to the collection.

“But you have the same name.” Agent Butcher's eyes flit to yours.

“She named me after herself. I’m sure the CIA can locate my birth certificate."

“Right.” Agent Butcher smiles, but it’s tight lipped.

You stand there for another minute looking from Agent Butcher to Hughie, trying to think of why they're here. "So what do you want to know?”

“Well is your mum around-“

You allow your shoulders to droop and take in a shaky breath. "She died about a year ago. Cancer."

They weren't the first to come here and accuse you of being Indigo. Legend and you had come up with the farce to protect you, help you start over, but you hadn't wanted to part with your name. So other precautions were put in place: a funeral plot was purchased and a death certificate was issued as was a fake passport, I.D, and birth certificate that made you thirty two rather than over one hundred.

“Really? I thought Indigo-“ It’s enough to make Hughie turn around and look at you.

“Don’t read everything Vought says." You interrupt. "That experimental shit they put in her veins may have made her powerful, but it couldn’t protect her from that.” You sigh again to sell the lie, before turning to the coffee maker, to pour them and yourself a cup. "There should be some milk in there, sugar's in the bowl." You gesture to the refrigerator and the small blown glass sugar bowl on the counter next to the coffee maker.

Hughie moves into the kitchen to pour himself a cup, but Agent Butcher continues to eye you suspiciously.

“It wasn’t in the news.” He grunts.

“They covered it up pretty well. I mean do you blame them? One of the first supes gets killed by something like cancer. Can’t be good for Vought given they pride themselves on showcasing unstoppable heroes. I mean can you imagine if Homelander or Queen Maeve died of something like cancer? Doesn’t look good.” You shrug your shoulders and take a sip from the coffee in your hands. “What did you want to talk to her about?”

“Soldier Boy.” Butcher moves to the coffeemaker and it takes a strong amount of willpower to stop the urge to turn towards him, but you know that you need to act indifferent.

“Did she talk to you at all about him?” Hughie moves to one of the bar stools on the opposite side of the island with his coffee in front of him.

“Yeah.” You look down at the mug with a sigh, rolling the warm glass between your hands. “He really did a number on her. Plus towards the end she started seeing him everywhere."

The emotion that you summon is not fake. You allow a small amount to trickle over the dam you built to protect yourself from falling back into the pit you fell into when Ben broke your heart and then died. When you broke every piece of glass in your apartment and threw your couch through the wall.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Hughie looks sincere when he says it.

Why is someone like him hanging out with this guy? You think to yourself eyeing Agent Butcher again.

“It’s been hard. But I took care of her, sometimes it was only me. It’s kind of hard to restrain an 103 year old with super strength.” You smile to yourself at the joke.

“So you’re a supe?” Hughie takes a sip from his coffee mug.

“No I was just able to talk her down. Guess that first batch of Compound V doesn’t work the same way. Never transferred. Plus my dad wasn’t a supe so maybe it just diluted.” You shrug, the lies weaving easily through the air.

“But she did talk to you about him?” Agent Butcher presses. He's leaning against the counter to your left.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“I mean what do you want to hear? There’s a lot.” The mug sends a pleasant warmth through your hands as you hold it, but does little to stop the chill of the past from creeping up your spine.

“Start at the beginning.”

“Well.” You take another sip of coffee. “I don’t know details-details but- I just know that she grew up with him, they were from the same neighborhood in Philadelphia. All that shit they made up about Soldier Boy being from a poor family was just propaganda. His dad owned half the steel mills in the state of Pennsylvania. Used to invest in property with my grandfather. Soldier Boy and my mom were friends. When he got the Compound V shot, she did too. They were looking for female and male volunteers. I think he asked her to? Or-“ You shrug your shoulders to push away the memory of the day Ben told you about the experiments. When he told you he was finally going to make something of himself and convinced you to go with him.

“They were dating?” Agent Butcher asks.

The question makes you pause. It was difficult to think about that, difficult to relive the memories of Ben continuing to push you away and his final refusal to admit he loved you. Ben never did say that to you. You had been through so much together, so many years as friends and then after the night you finally were together he threw you away like you meant nothing.

“No, but he really hurt her-“ You avoid their gaze.

“What did he do?” Hughie asks leaning forward on the counter.

“They had been through a lot together and I think when their friendship began to transfer to relationship he pushed her away. My mother said something about him refusing to admit he loved her. I think the last straw when she caught him with Countess.”

“Do you know anything about how he died?”

The memory of the phone call strikes you in the chest, when Stan Edgar himself called to tell you Ben was dead. When the darkness swallowed you whole and all you felt was guilt and heart break over the fight you had and how you left him alone when he needed you most.

“It hurt my mother a lot. Broke her. She never really got over him, no one was good enough, not even my dad. She drove him away too and then it was just us.”

“Was she there when Soldier Boy died?” Hughie spins the coffee mug in his hands.

“No. She left Payback before that mission. It was right after she caught Countess and him together.” You force a shrug. “I think she regretted not being there. She was almost as indestructible as him, but I think she felt worse because they had a big fight right before.”

“So she didn’t know about Nicaragua or the thing that killed him?” Agent Butcher raises an eyebrow.

You cock your head to the side feigning confusion. “What are you talking about? Soldier Boy got vaporized in a nuclear explosion.”

“Well I think we’ve wasted enough of your time.”

They get up to leave.

“Wait-“

Agent Butcher turns to look at you.

“Why are you asking me about him? It's been what? Forty years since he died-"

"That's classified love. Thank you for your time."

You watch them leave, but listen to them as they walk down the hallway.

“So do you believe her?” Hughie’s voice echoes in your ears.

“Not a bit. Maybe we trail her for a day. See if she really is an artist." Agent Butcher grunts. "At least until we go to Russia."

Russia? Why would they go to Russia?

You stand there for a second, holding the coffee mug in your hands. As you do the memories of the past 90 years wash across your mind, breaking through the damn that you built to protect yourself.

You were friends for years. You loved him since the moment you met. There were good times before the serum and then the bad, when he got famous and you were there to keep him in check. Sure you may have annoyed him, but he liked that about you, that you were able to bring him back from the edge. The day you finally had sex you remembered it, it was special, or you thought it was. You were excited that finally he loved you as much as you loved him. But then it all fell apart. That fight hadn’t been pretty. When you left him you felt yourself begin to slip, you didn’t eat or drink for days and when you finally got the phone call you thought it was him trying to apologize, but it was Stan.

You think again about Russia and finally your mind drifts to Countess.

She was the one that said that the Russians killed Ben, she saw it happen, saw his body get taken away-

Your jaw clenches together in anger and frustration as you remember the last time you saw her, when she taunted you and you almost ripped off her head. You never heard it directly from her that Ben was dead, only heard it from Stan. Of course the ridiculous funeral for Ben that you were expected to go to would mean that you saw her, but you hadn't gone, didn't want to keep up the charade. Instead you went to Philadelphia and walked the streets aimlessly with a bottle of whiskey in your hand, remembering what it was like when you were kids. Sometimes you think it all would have been different if you never got the injection, if you said no when he showed up in your bedroom and asked you to come with him. He was your oldest friend. The only real person you'd ever loved or cared about. The memory of the fight rings in your ears but you push it down.

You think again about Countess. She was the reason why Ben and you had the fight. The reason you weren't there in Nicaragua. Regret spikes in your chest. You should have been there that day, should have tried to save him. You always had each others backs and the one time you weren't there he died.

Maybe it was time to pay her a visit.

**********************************************

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373

#jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #the boys #the boys fanfic #soldier boy #the boys amazon #jensen #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfiction #jensen ackles #the boys series #the boys season 3

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theanimekid · 1 year

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Betrayal/ The Veil of Shadow found the new ruler

Synopsis: Love is not eternal, betrayal; cuts deeper than a scar. Now you'll be harmed no longer. You'll be loved once more. Embrace destiny, walk the veil, and rule as a Dark Queen.

Warnings: Monster, angst, sci-fi, blood, betrayal, heartbreak, death,

Shadow owes its birth to light- John Gay

“Love isn’t soft like those poets say. Love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close.” ― Stephen King, The Body

A/n: This will be about two or three chapters long, so grab some coffee, a blanket, and a couple of tissues, make that a couple boxes of tissue

Chapter 1: The Beginning and End

You will never feel pain again. You'll never feel hurt or suffering. You… will never experience betrayal… for now it was the last time… the last straw.

The Strom fumed in spikes of crimson and light-blue lighting. The chaos of thunderstorms rumbled the sky, buildings of merged flesh and bone carved into each like a deathly art, screams were heard for miles, screeching of the bats not living nor dead. As their dark sparks waved into the night. You stood, outside of your castle, watching the depths below, your body shrouded in mystery and despair. Your veil flew with the wind, eyes cold-hearted, broken no more, vengeance craving for suffering. Skin darker than a shade of navy blue. The might of the doors opened slowly, and a black substance moved within. It was quick and swift. Faster than the human eyes can catch.

It soon emerged with its fingertips skimming fingertips. Its purple hood covered its top face. He spoke in a canny yet diabolical fashion. "My Empress... the time has come," It said, As it played with its fingertips rhythmically. You turned to look at your advisor, your eyes sharpened, lowly. " Already?" You asked in a heartache and pitied tone. " I'm afraid yes, a newcomer has been seen in the human world, young and frail as he is, yet more fearful than the rest." The hand movement swayed and urged as his words, Walked away from the highland view. past your blackened throne so lonely and purposeless. Your advisor walked with you down the very, elongated hallway. Your soldiers lined up and bowed to you. "They're the same as always, Urmas."

"They live to benefit you, my beloved empress, as they will always be." He replied in assurance. The two walked for what seemed like a while and reached the end of the hallway. You stopped. Urmas stopped with you. His expression spread with little concern for his queen. " Is there something the matter, my sovereign?" You still stood there staring blankly at the door. " I-I- feel like I've been here before."

Urmas Cleared his throat. " Can you recall, my sovereign?" You shook your head, " I don't know, but yet at the same time, it feels as though." You turned to your advisor, offering your hand to him. Urmas instantly clutched it and held it to his hand. You beamed maliciously, teeth in all, "let's go raise bloodstained nightmare on humanity and make a world for my own." He smiled back." As you wish, my sovereign." The doors opened to a giant glass sphere, spiraling out of different stirs and harmonies. The two of you walked hand in hand. As you got closer to your glass sphere, lightly grazing the outer layer. Urmas walked on the other side of the figure.

The sphere's outer layer moved fluidly, liquifying. Your hand sunk into the glass sphere. Your eyes dilated, turning into a purplish pink. Your vision became severed as you gaze upon the human world into the brightness of the city. Your eyes searched and looked unnoticed. Til you found a little boy with glasses wandering down a dark alley. Frightened and alone, tight where you wanted him.

You planted his fear into his mind, it took only mere moments before he was nothing more than paste. And a small portal of flesh emerged from the brick wall, pulsating quietly like a heartbeat for an ear to listen. His body remained dismembered and fractured. His eyes plucked out of their sockets. Your eyes blurred again, returning to normalcy. With a sigh of satisfaction, you removed your hand from the sphere. Urmas clapped his hands in applause. " Another astounding work my sovereign," He feted. You walked away from the sphere and headed towards the door. You tumbled to the floor, holding both sides of your head, Your head began to hurt. Screaming in pain as your advisor tried to assist you. Your vision contradicted with light, a picnic on the hill, a man standing next to you with a loving gaze, his hand reaching out to you, calling to you…

You gasped as you raised your head. Your body trembling, your advisor slowly got you back on your feet. "My empress, are you all right?" He questioned. You sighed, bobbing your head left and right. " I-I'm fine... I just, need to rest my eyes."

*Back on Earth*

One of his shadow soldiers, sat on top of a nearby building, looking down upon its people and others. The shadow sighed in questionable purpose. It's been the fifth time this past year. The visions He saw, his queen in danger, screaming and sobbing for help, it's like an unending loop. Constantly, she was reaching out to him, calling to him...

His master emerged from the wall, Beru and Igris followed soon after, and his black coast got longer and ragged. He stopped at the edge. Sung turned his gaze toward his summon. " Is there a reason why you're not doing your patrol?" The soldier got up and kneeled before his master. " Forgive me, my king... but it feels like something has been bothering me." He didn't even bother looking upon his master. Thinking he will not believe him." And what has been bothering you?" Sung asked. He collected himself and explained clearly and carefully, not to anger him, " Lately, since the past year, I have been seeing visions... visions that I wish I could ignore, but it just couldn't." Sung knelt to his soldier's eyes. " Look at me, and tell me what you saw." The shadow soldier took a deep breath and looked dead into his king's eyes. " I saw... a woman in white, she was surrounded by black waters, she was slowly drowning, but no end. I was going to save her, but she started to cry, sobbing, calling out your name, and others. She turned to look at me, her face was recognizable... my king... I believe... that our queen is alive and needs your help."

Sung's eyes slowly widened, and he can feel his heart wailing out of his chest. She can't be... he watched her... if she is then why...

Beru and Igris can feel the energy around him growing. With his body trembling, he gripped his soldier's shoulders. " Are you... you 100 certain that's..." He nodded in response. Sung can feel his whole world collapse around him. You were alive, alive and alone, scared. " Did you anything else from your visions? Or where she could be? Did she tell you where to find her?" He started asking a million questions. But his soldier only gave him one and a solution. " She said to locate the portal where no man or light can find. The opposite of all worlds... Find the seer. And that's all I can remember."

The search for the seer begins.

Part 2 in the making👍

#solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #sung jin woo #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #solo leveling manhwa #shadow soldiers #sung jinwoo smut #Sung Jin Woo x reader #sun jin woo x fem reader #solo leveling smut #solo leveling x reader smut #solo leveling spoilers

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seoafin · 1 year

Text

Someone is following you.

You don’t need to look behind you to know that someone has been following you for the last fifteen minutes. Every turn, crossing, and stop. You could feel their gaze on the back of your neck. No killing intent. Yet. You didn’t speed up, you didn’t run. You kept to a steady pace. Your follower could fool themselves into thinking you were clueless.

You take a left instead of the right of your daily commute back to your apartment, and instead, enter a park, cutting across it, past the empty swings and playground, to the alley wedged between two buildings behind it.

The presence disappears. You stop. Turn around.

“Hey stranger!” Nagumo chirps, standing against the chain link fence enclosing the park. He brings a hand out of the long trench coat on his figure and lifts it in an enthusiastic wave. “Long time no see!”

You set your shoulders, instantly on guard. “What are you doing here?”

He tilts his head to the side, as if he’s genuinely confused, before he brushes it off in the same manner you’ve seen him shrug off your barbed words and people’s glares: with a bright smile. “Can’t I visit an old friend? It’s been ages!”

Just as you move to take a step back, he’s in front of you, taking a step closer.

“I’ve been really lonely these days,” he muses. “You know, with Sakamoto leaving the Order, and you being off the radar and all. Shishiba doesn’t even laugh at my jokes! He can be so du—”

“...”

“—deadly!”

“We aren’t friends,” you say bluntly. “We never were.” Rion was your friend. Rion got along with Nagumo for reasons beyond your comprehension. You and Sakamoto had somehow bonded over the long stretches of silence in which all the two of you could hear were Nagumo and Rion giggling away or bullying some undeserving freshman.

“Ouch!” Contrary to your words, he looks pleased. “Straight to the heart! Guessing if I ask you to be mine again, you’ll kill me, won’t you?”

What a joke. Your gaze sharpens, feeling a rush of irritation. You aren’t in high school anymore, but that smile always made you feel small. Like he’s hiding all your secrets in them. Like you willingly entrusted them to him in the first place. You’ve never trusted that smile.

Once again, you ask. “What are you doing here, Nagumo?”

His smile widens. He likes that you used his name. You don’t know what to do with that information. Your back hits brick.

He’s almost flush against you, despite every atom in your body rejecting your passivity. Your fingers twitch. You ground your feet against the dirt, forcing yourself to stay still. Five openings. You aren’t stupid enough to believe all of those five are actually openings. Even now, he’s guarded, shifting all the vital points of his body away.

You’re out of practice, but that doesn’t mean you’d go down easy.

Then a finger grazes your neck. You flinch so hard, you move against the brick. The hand drops.

“If you want me to back off, then kill me.” He leans in closer, until your noses are almost touching. He cranes his neck to the side, giving you an opening straight to his jugular. You can see the shapes of his tattoos pressed against skin, strands of his black hair resting against his neck. His voice lowers. “With that pen in your hands.”

You startle, looking down at your hand, fisted around a pen you have no recollection of taking out. You loosen your grip, and the pen falls out of your hand.

Your heart drops, eyes wide. “I…”

An honest life. No more killing. Sakamoto understood. Sakamoto had fallen in love and retired for good. If Sakamoto could do it, couldn’t you? You weren’t asking to be loved. You were asking to be better. To be a person your younger brother could call his older sister with pride.

“Ah! That reminds me! How’s your younger bro—”

The key in your hand is pressed right against Nagumo’s jugular. A thin trickle of blood runs down his neck, down the lines of his tattoos, down onto his pristine white collared shirt, staining it red. His hand is wrapped around your wrist, stopping you from piercing him entirely.

You stare at him. He meets your gaze evenly.

“See?” He smiles, eyes lidded, and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a smile touch more than his lips. “I knew you still had it in you.”

#alright sorry i just needed to eject this out of my brain for my 2 sakamoto days followers and nessa #HE'S ON THE BRAIN #nagumo x reader #sakamoto days x reader #m.sd

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vodika-vibes · 5 months

Note

👋 😊 ☝️ reading your other alpha-17 asks made me think of this idea:

Alpha-17 with an extremely shy reader—he’s super interested and always flirting, and reader’s thinking “oh hahaha he’s just being super nice to me that’s super sweet” and he’s like “smh” growing frustrated with trying to figure out how to confess without her misunderstanding his feelings

Please and thank you ❤️❤️

Wallflower

Summary: You're a nurse on Kamino, and Alpha-17 is laser focused on you, though you're not sure why.

Pairing: Alpha-17 x Reader

Word Count: 1074

Warnings: Alpha is a bit possessive. (Just throw away feminism when it comes to Alpha, seriously)

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: This isn't exactly on par with the request, but I think I hit all of the highlights? If you aren't happy with it just shoot me a message, and I'll redo it.

Divider by Saradika

You hate being the center of attention. Always have, and probably always will. It’s why you chose a career as a nurse, rather than a doctor. It’s why you took the job opening on Kamino, rather than taking a place at someplace that might pay more.

The very idea of someone, anyone, putting you at the center of their attention is…terrifying? Horrifying? Whichever the right word is, you were sure that traveling to Kamino was best for you, and your mental health.

And then you met Alpha-17.

Built like a brick wall, and with the general personality of a foul tempered rancor, Alpha intimidates you. Which, you know, isn’t saying much since some of the cadets intimidate you, but he really, really intimidates you.

To the point where talking around him is a problem.

Which is really a problem because he seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to you, and is able to find you no matter where you are. In fact, he’s so precise about homing in on you when you’re not busy, that you’re beginning to think he must have some force sensitivity.

You mentioned it to him, once, and he just laughed, a booming noise that makes your stomach flip pleasantly. He grinned at you and leaned into your personal space, and told you that he’s just that well trained.

And then there’s the second problem with Alpha.

No matter what he’s talking to you about, be it the condition of some of the cadets in his care or something else entirely, he always, always slips a flirtatious comment in there, and then pretends that he doesn’t know why you’re so flustered.

It’s aggravating. It’s infuriating.

It’s…not at all what you signed up for when you agreed to come to Kamino.

Of course, it’s entirely possible that he’s not flirting with you and he’s just being nice because he can see how intimidating he is-

You pause as you turn a corner, heading towards the infirmary, and see Alpha standing nose to nose with one of the trainers. And it looked like the trainer was trying to force Alpha to back down, but Alpha just looked like he was about to rip the other man’s face off.

…Okay, so maybe he’s not just being nice because he knows how intimidating he is. Alpha seems to enjoy how intimidating he is.

You slip behind the growing crowd to continue to the infirmary. And you’re not the least bit surprised when you hear a loud curse and a grunt of pain from the hallway as you step over to your workstation.

And you’re even less surprised when Alpha steps into your office, a sharp grin on his face. “I need medical attention.” He announces as he sits himself in one of your chairs.

“Would you like me to get one of the medics?” You ask as you flicker your gaze over his face.

“Nah, cyar’ika, I want you to take care of me. I think you’ll be good at it.” His grin is still sharp, but there’s a hint of flirtation in his voice.

“Oh…um…I suppose I can take a look,” You mumble as you drop your gaze from his face. “Where are you hurt?” You ask as you take a deep breath and try to steel yourself.

His grin sharpens and he holds out his hand, revealing bruised and bloodied knuckles, “Oh, Alpha!” You take his hand in both of yours, “What did you do, punch his beskar?”

“Something like that,” He agrees with a growing grin.

“You should know better,” You scold him gently, “You’re lucky your hand isn’t broken.” You start in surprise when he reaches out and lightly curls his free hand around your hands. “Um…Alpha?” You look up from his hands to his face, and you’re startled to see a different sort of grin on his face.

“Mm…scared, mesh’la?”

“No.” You reply honestly.

“Good.” He says, his sharp grin returning. And then he tugs on your hands sharply, and you stumble between his legs and against his chest. He tugs your arms so that they’re pinned to the chair slightly behind him, and because of the chair he elected to sit in, your face is only centimeters away from his.

You stare at him, eyes wide with surprise. “What-?”

“Isn’t this much better?” Alpha asks.

You swallow hard, “Alpha, I can’t wrap your hand like this.” You point out as you weakly try to tug one of your hands away. There’s absolutely no give, but you didn’t really expect there to be.

“I don’t need my hands wrapped.” His voice is a low rumble that you can feel reverberate through your entire body.

“But…but you said…”

“I lied.”

You stare at him, slightly wounded, “Why would you do that?”

“Because I got tired of you pretending that I’m not flirting with you.” Alpha replied bluntly. “And I needed to get you someplace private, where you feel safe.”

“Why would you do that?” You repeat.

“I want you to be mine and only mine.” Alpha says, “I want to kiss you and to be allowed to hold you.”

“Um…”

“You don’t even realize how beautiful you are, do you?” He leans in slightly, until his nose bumps against yours, “Did you even notice that Colt was flirting with you?”

“He…wait…No, he wasn’t.” You stutter, your face burning at the idea of Colt flirting with you.

Something dark flickers across Alpha’s face, “I made him stop. Anyone who tried to flirt with you was encouraged to stop.” He scans your embarrassed face, “Do you want him to flirt with you?”

“No thank you.” You squeak out, “I can barely handle you flirting with me.”

“So you do recognize that I flirt with you.” Alpha says with a smirk.

“I’m not blind, I just…I…” You trail off, “I’m not really worth it,” You whisper.

“You are to me.” He scans your face, “Give me a chance, and I’ll make you believe it.”

You lick your lips nervously, and you flush when his gaze drops to your lips, and you feel heat run through your body. “Okay.” You whisper.

Alpha grins at you, and crashes his lips against yours in a demanding kiss. “Good girl,” He murmurs against your lips, “I’ll make sure you won’t regret it.”

And you believe him. He’s never failed at anything he’s set his mind to. And apparently his mind is set on you.

#star wars #tcw #alpha 17 x reader #alpha x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #answered asks

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yuujispinkhair · 2 years

Text

Under the Killing Moon

Pairing: Vampire!Yuuji x Vampire-Hunter!Reader (female) Genre: smut, horror, urban fantasy, Vampire AU Word Count: 5k Playlist: Vampire Warnings: 18+, dark themes, smut, blood, Yuuji bites reader's neck and breasts, general mention of death and killing as it is common in vampire stories, creampie, sex-magic kind of, Yuuji's spit and cum are an aphrodisiac, multiple orgasms, sex while flying. The story gets dark towards the end, kidnapping, yandere!Reader, dub-con. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

This is part of my Halloween Special

In starlit nights I saw you So cruelly you kissed me Your lips a magic world Your sky all hung with jewels

The Killing Moon by Echo & the Bunnymen You stumble out of the backdoor of the club and into the dimly lit back alley, swaying precariously on the high heels of your leather boots. You giggle as you put a hand against the brick wall to steady yourself.

Everyone who might see you will come to the same conclusion: You are a girl who had a few drinks too much. A slutty thing in a skimpy little outfit who went to this club to dance and drink and find a one-night stand.

But it's all just for show. You aren't really drunk. You aren't a girl who went to a club to have a fun night.

The truth is, you are working tonight, and all your senses are sharpened, ready for the kill. Because that's what you get paid for. Ridding the city of the bloodsucking abnormities that haunt its streets at night.

Tokyo Supernatural Crime Department – Grade 1 Vampire Hunter

That's what it says on your official badge.

Some colleagues are older than you or stronger but still stuck in grades 2 or 3. You know why. They aren't as passionate about this job as you are. They are too careful. Too scared to get close to those monsters.

But not you. You know how to find them in the moonlit parks, in the shiny clubs and bars, and in the dark back alleys. You aren't scared to get close to them. On the contrary. Because you have your special way of hunting them.

The huntress poses as the prey. That's what always works. And you know how to play the perfect victim.

It's the most delicious role reversal. You are pretty proud of the deception you created. Luring the creatures, who are supposed to be the biggest lure themselves, to you.

They get weak for you, driven by the desire for a young woman's blood. You are a bait so good it can't be ignored.

A helpless girl, all alone, tipsy, a bit naive, careless. Flimsy clothes, a short skirt, and fishnet tights, with a tiny corset top that exposes your neck and pushes your tits up so temptingly that they almost spill out of the slutty piece of clothing.

You are a walking temptation. The perfect trap. You just have to find the right spot. Tonight you are lucky on the first try.

Your mouth lifts in an excited smile when you hear the soft voice behind you.

"What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here, cutie."

A shiver runs down your spine. His voice sounds beautiful. Their voices always do. Velvety and warm like a lover's caress. Seductive without even trying.

He sounds strained, though. Like something is worrying him.

You turn around, putting on the best startled expression you can do. Wide innocent eyes, mouth opening in a gasp as you bring a shaking hand to your lips and the other to your chest, where your heart is beating wildly as the rush of the upcoming hunt washes over you.

Your gaze lands on a tall, muscular figure with pastel pink hair and a face so pretty it is to die for.

Yes, he is one of them. And what a lovely specimen he is!

Of course, they are all gorgeous. But he is of extraordinary beauty. Even if he tried, he could never pass as a human. He is too pretty, too perfect. Otherworldly.

His face is so beautiful that you want to weep. You can't tell how old he is, of course. He will forever look like a young man in his early twenties. But if he is one of the old ones of his species, you are sure the humans who lived a thousand years ago must have built ancient shrines for him where they worshipped his beauty and sacrificed people in his name.

High cheekbones, perfectly shaped nose, and full lips. You can see the tips of his fangs peeking out, glistening like pearls in the dimly lit back alley.

His flawless tan skin seems to glow as if illuminated by some light from the inside. His eyes are an unnatural shade of gold. Shining like a full moon hanging in the night sky above the city.

He is tall, and his body is adorned with gorgeous buff muscles. A body like a god. You can see that much even through the clothes he's wearing. All in black, tight jeans and a tight long-sleeve shirt. Strong and deadly. A body made for hunting, for killing, for preying on humans and drinking their blood.

Your heart is racing under your hand that's pressing against your breasts. You know he can hear it. Can hear the tempting thrum of your pulse. Can hear the rushing of your blood through your veins.

You blink at him as if confused, fluttering your eyelashes innocently. Just a dumb little girl. An easy prey.

"Ah! You scared me! Are you here to get a bit of fresh air too? It was too hot in the club. I danced too much, I think. And the drinks made me dizzy...hehe. I think I'm a bit tipsy."

You giggle and wipe your forehead, smiling at him and cocking your head, exposing more of your neck to him.

You can see his golden eyes dart to your pulse point. He licks his lips unconsciously, showing more of his fangs. They are long! He must have an enormous bite force.

The thought sends a spark of excitement through you. Adrenaline and arousal mixing in a delicious concoction.

His gaze meets yours. Wide-eyed and full of regret. You frown inwardly. What's wrong with that creature? Why isn't he happy to see such a perfect prey?

"Y... You shouldn't be here. No one should be here...I was just looking for rats. I don't want to do this!"

Oh. Now you understand. Your smile becomes bigger.

He's one of those vampires. How cute.

You have never met one before, but you heard tales about them. Vampires who don't want to feast on humans. Vampires who are at war with their natural instincts. They only hunt animals, feeding off them as if it could give them the same elation human blood does.

You know it's stupid. When it comes down to it, they can't suppress their hunger for human blood. They are made for this. It's their ultimate desire, their drug, their life elixir.

You take his words as a personal challenge.

Oh, sweet little vampire boy, you don't want to drink my blood? We will see about that.

And so you take a step towards him, swaying slightly, playing the drunk girl perfectly.

"Why shouldn't I be here? Is it a private area? Oops, I'm so stupid sometimes."

You giggle dumbly as you reach out to tap a playful finger against his broad chest, feeling the firm muscles through the thin black fabric of his shirt.

His eyes widen even more.

You smile sweetly at him before spinning around on one foot, letting your short skirt fly up to expose more of your thighs as if you're doing a little drunk dance, humming a song you heard in the club. One of those old gothic rock anthems.

You stop with your back to him, making it easier for the confused vampire. Maybe it will help him if he doesn't have to look into his victim's eyes. And then you sigh loudly and crane your neck, showing off all your exposed skin, bringing up a hand to fan yourself, letting the soft breeze carry your scent over to him. You always use a special homemade perfume on hunting nights. A mixture that includes a few drops of your blood.

You can hear his low growl. Can hear the moment his resolve breaks.

And you smirk to yourself, waiting for the moment he will attack. Your hand is already hovering over the hidden pocket in your corset where you keep the handkerchief drenched in holy water. Just in case he is too wild.

You hope this one will be fun, though. You don't like it when they are too vicious, and you have to kill them immediately before the fun even starts.

Because you aren't just here for the kill. If you are honest, you haven't been doing this job for the kill in months.

It was what made you initially sign up, sure. You wanted to drive a stake into those vile creatures' hearts and watch them crumble to ashes. You wanted to be a hero for humankind. Wanted to protect your species from its natural enemy.

But then, one night, one of them got too close to you and managed to sink his canines into your neck. You killed him but only after experiencing the most exquisite feeling of elation. Vampire saliva should be labeled a drug. You felt high in those seconds, body brimming with pleasure, closer to heaven than you ever thought possible.

After discovering this nice side effect of your job, you haven't been doing it for the kill anymore but for this special thrill. The most exquisite drug that exists in this world.

You draw in a sharp breath when you feel the vampire appear behind you. So fast as if he didn't even walk but instead manifested out of thin air.

His low, seductive voice sounds full of regret,

"It's because it's dangerous out here. I am dangerous."

You feel his breath on your neck. And before you can say anything, a strong hand clamps over your mouth and his voice is in your ear again, low and sweet and sad but also so horny for your blood.

"I am so sorry, sweetheart. I don't want this, but I'm so hungry. Please just let me take a little bite, ok? I promise I'll be careful and I will let you go afterwards. Please don't struggle. I don't want to hurt you, sweetie. Just let me get a little taste."

His firm body is pressing against your back, all solid muscles and supernatural strength. And horny desire. You can feel how hard he is. Just the thrum of your heartbeat and the smell of your skin and blood drives him crazy with lust.

You push your ass against his erection, feeling your eyes fall shut at the delicious friction. He is big. Big fangs and a big cock. So perfect for you.

And then his mouth opens against your neck. His sharp canines graze over your skin, making your body jerk with anticipation and arousal. You are so wet, pussy throbbing with excitement, creaming your panties at the prospect of getting bitten by that beautiful monster.

It's those short moments right before the bite that send the biggest thrill through you. This mix of fear and arousal. Waiting for that predatory creature to sink his teeth into you.

You lean against him, reaching behind you to let a hand run over his undercut and then tangle in his pretty pink hair. Your pulse is racing, making you feel lightheaded, and you moan softly,

"What is your name?"

"Yuuji..."

"Bite me, Yuuji. Drink from me. Tell me how sweet my blood tastes."

It's enough to make him lose his last bit of restraint. You hear his strangled moan, and then his long pointy fangs pierce through your skin, making you gasp loudly as a sharp pain explodes on your neck.

Your body jerks automatically as your survival instincts try to make you run. But Yuuji's arms are around you, holding you in place, restraining you effortlessly.

And then his vampire spit is working its black magic. The initial pain of the bite disappears and gets replaced by pleasure, making you relax in his strong arms and lean against his tall body, offering yourself willingly to him.

It's evil. Nature's abomination. A creature that's so perfect for preying on humans. Everything about the vampire is attractive to humans. They are beautiful. They are sexy. They exist to lure a human in. And their bite makes you want to stay, makes you crave more, makes you want to get feasted on until the last drop.

The unholy essence in their saliva makes you forget that it's a bad thing that they are drinking your blood, makes you forget that they are slowly draining you of your life essence and bringing you closer to death with every sip. A deadly temptation, that's what they are.

You don't feel any pain now that Yuuji feasts on you. You feel euphoria.

This is what you came here for tonight. This exquisite pleasure on the brink of death.

You find yourself moaning, pressing against the vampire needily, craning your neck to give him better access, and rubbing your ass against his hard-on, spurring him on to do more, to take more, to give you more.

If anyone in your department ever finds out about your little vampire kink, you will get fired, and your vampire hunter license will be taken away from you.

But you just can't resist.

You think you have an addiction. Nothing beats that feeling of ecstasy that pulses through your veins when the vampire spit seeps into your wound and mingles with your blood.

Or no.

There is one thing that is even better: If they drink from you while using your body in other ways too. If you let them do what every vampire craves: Feast on your whole body. Bathing their mouths with your blood and coating their cocks with your pussy cream. They long for the pulsating feeling of a warm, slick cunt around their hard cocks.

They crave to feel the life that's pulsing through your body. After all, they are undead. Their hearts have no heartbeat. Their flesh is cold and only warms if they wrap themselves around a body that is still alive. They desire life and nothing screams life more than sex.

Sweet Yuuji is just the same. He can't escape his vampire instincts. His animal urges that tell him to eat and to mate.

A low wild growl is heard when you grind against his hard cock in maddeningly tight circles, massaging him with your ass, tempting him, making him crazy with lust and need.

You feel him suck more firmly on your neck, moaning against your skin as he hungrily drinks your blood while rutting his thick hard length against you.

You let your head fall onto his shoulder, moaning his name shakily. At the same time, your fingers loosen the lacing of your corset so it opens enough to let your tits spill out, sighing when the cold night hair brushes over your heated flesh, nipples hardening instantly.

And Yuuji groans loudly against your neck, his hands coming up instantly to cup your tits, massaging them with his strong fingers, squeezing them needily, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples.

You smile.

You have him. That was easy. So easy to seduce this cute little vampire.

He turns you around with a feral-sounding growl, slamming your back against the brick wall with so much force that it makes you gasp for air.

And then his hungry mouth is on your tits, wandering over your heaving breasts, sucking and licking at your skin before he sinks his fangs into your plump flesh.

You scream, but it's a scream of lust. Your fingers tangle in Yuuji's soft pink hair as a shudder of ecstasy washes over you and makes you push your tits eagerly against his mouth.

"Ah, Yuuji! More! Please, more!"

You aren't just acting anymore. At this point, you crave him. You are greedily chasing after this feeling of bliss only a vampire cock can give you. And you know that cute and sexy Yuuji will be a master at this.

If he refuses? Well, your wooden stake is hidden in your knee-high boot.

But you don't need it. Not yet.

Yuuji looks up at you with glowing eyes and tiny droplets of blood trickling down the corners of his lips. He is sucking on one of your nipples while his fangs are buried in your flesh, sending shock waves of pleasure through you, making your pussy throb with need, so wet that your panties are soaked.

Your gaze locks with his, looking at him with the same feverish desire that is burning in his glowing eyes.

"You don't have to hold back, sweet vampire. Just take me any way you want! Just fuck me, Yuuji!"

And then Yuuji moves. He is too fast for you to even see it. One moment he has his face buried between your tits, worshipping and feasting on them, and the next, he has you pushed up against the wall.

This is the part that always drives you crazy with lust. That show of vampire strength! When he yanks you around, lifts you in his arms, and slams you against the wall like a rag doll, holding you with only one arm as if you weigh nothing.

He has already opened his pants, pushing them down to free his enormous hard cock, and then his hand sneaks under your skirt, and his firm fingers leave goosebumps on your sensitive skin where they rub over your inner thighs and then reach the heat between your legs.

Your legs tighten around his hips when he tears a hole into your fishnets and the panties underneath, ripping them apart like the wild animal he is.

He has you on his cock a split second later, claiming you with all his vampire strength. Fucking into you with hard deep thrusts so powerful and strong that it feels like you will shatter.

Not human.

You moan loudly, pussy clenching around him needily.

Human men don't do it for you anymore, not after getting a taste of vampire sex magic.

Pleasure is coursing through your veins, pussy so wet and hot, horniness clouding your mind as you threaten to go into a frenzy.

It's always like this. Vampire dick is the best dick. Made to pleasure, made to drive a human out of their mind with lust. They are made to make you become high on them and get addicted to them.

Just one drop of Yuuji's pre-cum inside you makes your head spin. His seed is the most potent aphrodisiac. Unable to create new life, infertile, dead. But so powerful when it comes to blessing you with the most intense pleasure.

Your pussy feels so sensitive to every hard thrust. You can feel Yuuji's pre-cum coating your insides, filling you with that tingling sensual sensation that makes your pussy twitch needily around his gorgeous length. When Yuuji's fat cockhead massages your sweet spot, leaking more fat drops of pre, you see stars and gasp and scream as tears of bliss run down your cheeks.

Of course, you became addicted to this! This is sex beyond anything else. No mortal man could give you this.

"Ahh, you fuck me so good, Yuuji. Can you fuck me while flying too?"

He is a particularly strong one, just pushing himself off the ground, and then he's soaring up into the night sky with you. He doesn't pull out, keeping you on his cock the whole time, rolling his hips and fucking into your needy wet pussy while floating in the night sky over Tokyo's glittering neon lights.

You scream your ecstasy into the night as your pussy clenches wildly on Yuuji's blissful vampire cock. You are drunk on him, high from orgasmic bliss, crying and screaming and mewling as you gush over his gorgeous cock, making a sticky wet mess all over him.

But he holds you in place fucking you through it, fangs buried in your neck, and his girthy cock filling you with his gracious load of cum, making you whimper and moan. Your body is convulsing with the almost unbearable ecstasy of getting filled with his aphrodisiac vampire seed, prolonging your high.

And just when you think the pleasure will finally start to ebb, another orgasm gets forced out of you before you are even ready for it. Your used hole spasms around Yuuji's cock helplessly, a sharp lustful cry of his name filling the night sky as if you are howling at the full moon over your head.

You can't stop cumming. A third orgasm follows the second one immediately, making you scream and whimper, melting bonelessly against your vampire lover who keeps you on his cock and keeps snapping his hips, deep and fast, pumping your pussy full of his vampire seed. His strong arms and thick cock are the only things holding you up, keeping you from falling down onto the city's dark streets.

"Fuck! Cutie! You are so sweet!"

He groans against your neck before his canines sink into your flesh once again, and his soft lips suck hungrily on your skin.

His potent seed fills you to the brim until your twitching pussy is overflowing. Thick rivulets of cum ooze out of your used cunt and run down Yuuji's fat cock and balls. And down your legs, making you moan as you feel the silky sensation of his seed caressing your skin.

It feels like thousands of kisses trail down your inner thighs and legs.

A loud sob forces its way out of your mouth as the caress of Yuuji's vampire cum makes you lose yourself to pleasure once more. Your pussy shudders, creaming again on the fat vampire cock, as you can only mewl weakly and cry in delight.

You watch with heavy-lidded eyes as Yuuji's cum runs over your leather boots, collecting at the heel before it drips down onto the city below you.

Yuuji's still sucking on your neck, moaning softly as he drinks your sweet blood and lets his cock get milked by the pulsing walls of your wet pussy.

You know he has to stop feasting on you now, or you will get too weak. And so you grab a handful of his pretty pink hair and tug sharply on it to get his attention.

When he finally pulls away, you can see the lust-filled haze leave his golden eyes and get replaced by regret and guilt. So sweet. You almost laugh.

"I'm sorry."

Yuuji slowly floats down past the glittering windows of skyscrapers and the blinking neon lights of the club. And you capture his lips with yours, kissing him hungrily, moaning at the taste of your blood and his spit on his tongue.

He gasps in surprise, not understanding why you still want him after what he did to you. But then his lips start to move against yours, kissing you back, slow and sweet, letting you taste his vampire kiss, his silky tongue, and intoxicating spit. Such a sweet drug.

When you reach the ground, he sets you down carefully on the grey asphalt of the dingy back alley.

He smiles at you nervously, looking guilty, making your breath catch at how beautiful he is.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry for losing control, but you tasted so good. I'm not...I'm not used to human blood. I got overwhelmed by your taste."

He scratches his pink hair, looking like a lost little puppy. Funny how an apex predator like him can look so cute.

He adds in a soft voice,

"I hope I didn't take too much. Maybe you should stop at the hospital and ask for a blood transfusion? Let me heal you first, though."

He comes closer again, leaning down to lick over your neck where his fangs left the deepest wound. You moan as his saliva coats your skin and seeps into your wounded flesh, making it close miraculously.

You could get lost in this pleasure, give yourself over to it and press your tits in his face, so he heals his marks there too. It's tempting.

But you shake yourself out of it. Now is the crucial moment. You have to focus!

Yuuji is an easy target. Usually, you have to stake them right after they cum, or they will surely kill you. But he is different. You knew he would let you live.

And now the vampire boy is here, so close to you as he heals your wound, and you know you have to take your chance now or never.

Your fingertips graze over the handle of your wooden stake, where it's hidden in your leather boot.

But you hesitate.

Yuuji is so sweet. Not as feral as the other ones. Wouldn't it be a shame to kill him? To waste this perfect opportunity? Isn't he everything you ever wished for?

You smile as you push the stake back into your right boot, and instead, you fish something else out of your left boot.

It's so easy. Yuuji is too trusting, too sure that you are just a helpless girl who stumbled into him on accident.

He doesn't expect your move. Doesn't realize what you really are.

And then it's too late.

His surprised cry of pain makes you chuckle softly as you snap the silver handcuffs shut on his left wrist. He tries to yank his hand away, but he is already weakened by the silver. And before he can pull away, you already handcuff his other wrist, too, effectively trapping his hands behind his back.

It's always fascinating to see how weak those strong creatures become once pure silver touches them.

Yuuji's golden eyes are wide as he stares at you with a growing dread on his flawless face. Now he knows what you are. Something flickers over his beautiful face. Fear but also something else. Relief.

"Do it, please. It's ok. A monster like me shouldn't exist anyway. Please, I don't want to hurt more people."

You smile at him. Your voice is soothing, like talking to a scared animal.

"I know Yuuji. I know, sweetie. And that's why I'm not going to kill you."

He blinks at you, confused, not understanding what you mean. But you will tell him. You will explain it all to him.

You pull another item out of your boot. Your touch is gentle, almost loving when you put the silver collar on Yuuji's neck.

He hisses in pain as more silver touches his skin, burning it with its pureness. A single tear runs down his pretty face, and his lips tremble. He's so perfect. So beautiful. You are glad that you didn't kill him.

"Shhh, baby boy, it's ok. The pain will lessen once your skin gets used to it."

You coo at him, reaching out to pet his pretty pink hair soothingly and press your lips to his cheek, capturing the tear and letting it melt on your tongue, sighing at the euphoric taste.

"You are far too pretty and too cute to kill you. I'm gonna keep you."

And with that, you smile at him and fasten a leather leash on his collar.

Perfect!

The collar looks cute on Yuuji. As if it belongs there. Maybe you should get him a little silver name tag.

"Let's go, Yuuji. I'll show you your new home."

You laugh softly as you wrap the leash around your wrist and give it a gentle tug to pull your new personal vampire after you.

You lift your head to gaze up at the full moon glowing brightly above the rooftops of Tokyo's skyscrapers. What a perfect night for hunting! It's a Killing Moon tonight. Legend says that it works as a lucky charm for you vampire hunters. And maybe there is truth to that old tale.

After all, you have waited months for an opportunity like this. To find the perfect vampire.

You are prepared. There is a cell in your basement. You furnished it with a luxurious big bed and soft pillows. You want your vampire to be comfortable, after all. And if he stays away from the silver bars, he won't get hurt. It's a lovely little room down there. Perfect for keeping a cute vampire pet.

The thing is, there is something you want even more than just getting bitten and fucked by those powerful creatures. They have something far more precious to give you.

Eternity.

It's the ultimate treason to mankind, but the huntress wants to become the thing she is supposed to kill.

The tricky thing is to find a vampire who will agree to turn you. He has to feed you his blood willingly, or it won't work. And you have to trust him not to kill you during the process.

But you think you have finally found the perfect specimen. You need one who hasn't lost his humanity and compassion. Sweet Yuuji is the perfect one for that. A vampire who doesn't want to kill.

A wide victorious smirk spreads over your face as you give the leash in your hand a firm tug and continue your way through the filthy, dimly lit back alleys of this forsaken city.

Three months later

"Hey, sweetie. How was my sweet boy's night?"

You smile at your vampire lover as you open the door to his cell. Your breath still catches in your throat anytime you come down here and see Yuuji. His beauty is astounding. Glowing like the moon in this dark basement, beautiful and strong.

And so hungry. Hungry for your blood and your pussy. And you are here to give him both.

He is your little secret, locked away from the rest of the world, only existing for your pleasure and the promise of eternal life.

One day. One day, sweet Yuuji will give you what you want the most.

Until then, you'll just come down here every night to love him, fuck him, offer him the sweet bliss of your blood and your hot wet cunt.

Sometimes he cries those beautiful tears that glitter like diamonds and asks you in that low velvety voice:

"Why are you doing this? Why don't you let me go?"

And anytime you pet his soft pink hair and snuggle against his strong body and tell him:

"Aww, but Yuuji, don't mix things up, my love. You were the one who attacked me. It's not fair to blame me. You know that, right? My pretty boy."

He gulps and nods and apologizes over and over again. It's so cute to watch. You always end up spoiling him too much on those nights, milking his gorgeous vampire cock and letting him feed on your neck until he is in such a fucked out, lust-filled haze that he doesn't even remember his name anymore.

And you always whisper to him afterwards how much you love him. How happy you are that he came into your life.

"What we have is special, Yuuji. Don't you see? I love you so much. That's why I want us to stay together for all times."

The people in your department wouldn't understand. They would say your lover is Death. But they are wrong. Yuuji is life. Eternal life. The greatest treasure humankind hunts for.

And you have that treasure in your basement, sitting prettily on his bed, looking at you with his big golden eyes, the cute collar around his neck sparkling enticingly. You got him a name tag. It's heart-shaped.

He really is your most precious possession.

The tragedy of being human is that death will inevitably come too soon. But a vampire can defeat death. A vampire can make you immortal.

Yuuji can make you immortal.

You visit him every night to ride him, screaming from lust when his fat cock pleasures you. You tease him, you edge him, you overstimulate him. Over and over again. Tugging on his leash and telling him to bite you and suck your blood.

And every night, you ask him to give you his blood too, so you can be together for all eternity.

He resists anytime. But you won't stop until you get what you want.

One day you will break your cute little vampire, and then you'll be his lover forever.

It is meant to be. Fate made you step into this particular back alley on that particular night. And even though Yuuji wouldn't have come home with you willingly, you made sure to lead him to his fate with a silver collar and a leash. And one day, he will understand.

There is no running from his fate.

Under blue moon I saw you So soon you'll take me Up in your arms too late to beg you Or cancel it, though I know it must be The killing time Unwillingly mine

Fate Up against your will Through the thick and thin He will wait until You give yourself to him

The Killing Moon by Echo & the Bunnymen

Thank you so much for reading my 2022 Yuuji Halloween fic! I hope you enjoyed sexy vampire Yuuji and the little twist at the end :) Initially, this story was supposed to be about a regular girl stumbling out of the club and into Yuuji, who feeds off her because he is hungry. But then I suddenly caught myself writing reader as a vampire hunter, and I realized that this makes the story a lot more fun. The yandere part was born when The Killing Moon was playing in the background, and I listened to the lyrics, and suddenly I knew how to finish this story.

Halloween always brings out my dark side, lol. It was so much fun to write an evil reader :)

I hope you enjoyed the story! Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs make me happy!

#yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuji x reader #yuji smut #itadori x reader #itadori smut #tw blood #tw dark content #tw yandere #tw dubcon

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