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some-bunniii · 3 months

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My Charming Red Savior [3]

・❥ You finally meet Alastor’s friends, only to then find your tea party rudely interrupted by an angry mob.

x: no use of y/n.

~ 7.9k words

warnings: adult themes

“Um…hi?”

The group of demons scooted a few steps closer to you, anxious to get a better look at the unfamiliar face in front of them. Their expressions were mixed, suspicion, excitement, confusion. Their eyes scanned up and down your figure, and you suddenly felt awfully self-conscious.

You leaned back slightly from the onlookers, as much as Alastor’s hold on you would allow. His arm was snaked around your elbow, locking you in place, which was the only comfort in this very strange little world.

The Hazbin Hotel, just like that Imp and Alastor had described to you earlier in the day. The question is, how did you get here, exactly?

These demons didn’t seem unfriendly, or cruel. They just seemed shocked to see you here, most likely the same feelings you’re experiencing right now.

Did Alastor do that? He must have, but how? Through the ring?

And, what about your money, purse, wallet, and keys? Did that asshole run off with them after you vanished? You held back the urge to sigh, what a day.

“Alastor, mind explaining who this is?” The gray, shorter lady in front asked, arms crossed as she regarded you cautiously with a single eye.

Alastor only grinned mischievously, a small chuckle escaping his lips, before turning his gaze towards you. He tugged you forward gently, and your back straightened as you smiled widely.

“Well, isn’t it obvious with that charming smile? She’s my wife!”

Silence. Utter silence, so silent in fact, you swore you could hear gunshots ringing from a few blocks away.

Your eyebrows shot up, heat creeping on your cheeks as you processed his words. You side-eyed him, a question behind your glance.

Is he serious?

The platinum-blonde-haired woman's mouth dropped open, her eyes glimmering. That gray lady only reeled back slightly, eyeing both you and Alastor with even more suspicion.

“Whaaaaaa..?” The pink spider demon quirked an eyebrow, his gaze darting to a much shorter black-and-white feline man, who shot him a confused expression right back. The tiny Cyclops lady only jumped in place giddily, her hands to her mouth in glee.

It wasn’t until you felt a rumbling beside you, did you turn to find Alastor laughing, his shoulders shaking as he put a hand to his mouth.

The even more shocked faces in the crowd faltered, as they watched Alastor collect himself.

“Ah, to see your faces like this is quite amusing.” Alastor chuckled, taking a claw and lifting it to his eye to wipe a false tear.

“Real funny.” The winged cat grumbled, rolling his eyes. The woman in the red suit seemed to deflate, a frown on her lips. She looked like she was genuinely sad by the news. A similar pang hit your heart, before shaking it off. Right, he wasn’t your husband. It was just an act. You knew this, so why did you feel this way?

You heard Alastor clear his throat, before gesturing to you once more. “This darling belle before you is here because.. she is interested in redemption through the hotel!”

Huh? When in the world did that thought ever cross your mind? Your head snapped to him, and you caught the mischievous glint in his eye as the platinum-blonde lady in front of you beamed, the sparkle in her eyes almost blinding you as she bounced on her toes.

“Really?!” She squealed, before crossing the distance between the two of you. She leaned down slightly, meeting your gaze. “Hello! My name is Charlie, and this is my hotel! Although, I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about it already."

Oh, this must be that daughter of the imp. The one that appeared before you before the store you worked at had opened, the one that told you his daughter owned the Hazbin Hotel. She didn’t look like an imp, though. You shook that thought off for a moment as she conversed with you.

“Not really,” you confessed, “I only know about you through Alastor.”

“Well, I’d be pleased to show you around and give you all the information you need to make a decision.” Charlie reached out her hand, a welcoming gesture. You hesitated before your eyes flicked up to Alastor, a thousand questions in your gaze.

But, what about your things? Why were you suddenly thrust into this situation? When were you going to get an explanation of how exactly you got here?

‘Go along with it, we’ll talk later.’ Alastor’s eyes seemed to speak, behind that charming grin. Just like it did the first time you met him. At least, you hoped that was what he was saying. You were going to talk to him no matter what, anyway.

You slipped your arm from his hold and grasped Charlie’s hand, and she tugged you beside her as she walked towards the group of demons. You felt a bit nervous as you approached them, seeing as their eyes had been on you since the moment you landed in their lobby.

“These two are our residents at the hotel! This is Sir. Pentious.” Charlie gestured to the tall snake demon, his hood covered his face slightly as he smiled bashfully.

“It’sssss a pleassure to meet you, my dear!” He said, clasping his hands together, and you smiled warmly in return. Sir. Pentious seemed like a respectful, modest demon. A rare gem. He reminded you of Alastor but with a flare of innocence to him. Or, at least, less murderous.

Charlie turned slightly towards that taller, fuzzy spider dressed rather scantily. “And, this is Angel Dust. He was our first guest when we originally opened!”

“How ya’ doin’, toots?” He winked at you, that golden tooth catching your eye as it shimmered in the warm lighting. He seemed to exude an air of confidence and charm that attracted attention effortlessly. At least, he was the first person to catch your eye when you materialized in front of them. It might just have been the bright pink fuzz, though.

“This is Husk… Niffty… Vaggie…” Charlie continued, introducing you to the rest of the staff. You stood beside her, patiently waiting for it to be over so you could speak to Alastor. Who was standing a ways behind you, no doubt tracing your figure as you slowly met each member. Finally, when you had finished greetings, Charlie turned to you. “I think it’s time we do a little tour of the hotel, get you familiar with everything!”

Your smile faltered for a moment. Right, you weren’t totally done yet. As much as you wanted to learn more about where you just dropped into, you had a very, very long day. Your plush, weighted covers that were sitting patiently back at home were calling to you. Still, Charlie turned towards the opposite side of the room, before glancing behind and beckoning you to follow. You obliged, keeping pace with her as she began to speak.

She guided you through multiple different locations, the kitchen, the lounge, and the bar. Soon, you were walking down a long hallway, rows of doors facing both sides of you. Were all these rooms vacant? Seemed like the hotel wasn’t very popular, though you weren’t surprised.

It wasn't until you entered a large sub-room, with a very lavish mahogany-wood staircase, that you stopped in your tracks and looked at the large frame hanging above you. Splashes of color filled your vision as you gazed at a large painting on the opposite side of the stairs. It depicted a large glistening, blue lake nestled in a sunny clearing around rows and rows of lush trees. At the edges of the lapping waves, fawns danced with small winged children in fields of sunlit flowers. Some held their hands to their mouths, giggling in joy as they frolicked carefree in the afternoon breeze.

You gawked at the painting for a few more moments, your eyes tracing the perfect lines and forms of each figure. The wings of the angels looked like actual feathers, carefully crafted through paint tools by a skilled hand.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Charlie swooned beside you, gazing up at the portrait. You nodded slowly in response, it was a very beautiful painting. Is that what Heaven looked like? If that was the case, you didn't mind giving redemption a try anymore.

“Who made this?”

“One of our staff here, they are our newest addition to the crew! I’d introduce the two of you, but they’re attending an art show tonight. An auction, I think. I’m sure you two would get along great, though!”

Yes, maybe you’d like that. Charlie continued on her path, as you rounded a corner into another hallway, the lights of the lobby off in the distance. You exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. You could finally speak to Alastor about the questions reeling in your head.

When you entered the lobby, the rest of the crew had dispersed. Angel Dust was lounging at the bar, offering Vaggie a drink who declined it curtly. Husker was growling something to Niffty, who was attempting to stab a bug atop the bar counter.

Alastor hadn’t followed you on that tour, instead, you found him leaning comfortably against the side of a wall. He stood there, a microfiber cloth in one hand and his red-tinted monocle in the other. Gingerly, he brushed the cloth across the small surface, wiping it clean of any imperfections.

It wasn’t until his gaze lifted and met yours, that the cloth vanished from his hand, and he adjusted the monocle back on his face. He straightened, resting slightly against his cane as the two of you approached him.

“So, what do you think?” Charlie pivoted to face you, a large smile on her lips. She looked so hopeful, and you did not want to say anything to hurt her feelings. You glanced at Alastor, who stood a little ways behind Charlie. His eyes were unreadable, that small smile of no help. Great, you were on your own with this one.

“Well, I think the hotel is very pretty.” You responded slowly, choosing your words carefully as you spoke.

“What about staying here?” Charlie leaned in slightly closer, bouncing on her toes as she beamed at you.

“Um, about that, It’s a nice offer and all but…” Charlie’s face dropped, her eyes glistening as she visibly deflated before your eyes. You grimaced, before taking a step closer, apologetically waving your hands. “But, I’m just pretty exhausted right now, so I think a good night's sleep will allow me to give you a better answer.”

Charlie perked at that. Even if it wasn't a ‘yes’ it was still better than your full rejection. She nodded, “That works with me!”

“Wonderful!” A voice buzzed behind Charlie before Alastor appeared next to her. He turned to the apple-cheeked woman, before widening his grin. “It seems like our new friend is rather tired, so I will do the honors and show them to their room.”

Wait, room? As in, here at the hotel? That was not your original plan, but, if it meant you were finally able to speak with the red demon, so be it.

Charlie agreed, before waving farewell to you and joining Vaggie on the couch. You turned to face Alastor, and he offered you his arm. You felt like ignoring it for a moment, and just walking beside him. Some kind of payback for suddenly dumping you here and into the arms of strangers.

After a moment, you sighed in defeat and laced your arm with his. He turned you to a second hallway and began to lead you down the winding corridor. After you were out of earshot, Alastor cleared his throat beside you, before turning his head slightly to face you.

“I’m surprised to see you here so soon, my dear. I knew you’d appear eventually, with how easily trouble seems to find you.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear how I even got here in the first place.” You replied sternly, prodding him for an explanation.

“Why, the ring of course!” He spoke, gesturing to your bare finger. “I embedded it with magic that would take you to safety if you were ever to be manhandled again while I am not present.”

You were silent for a moment, contemplating his words. Alastor put some kind of spell on the ring to protect you? Had that been there since he originally placed it on your finger? Now you were beginning to understand the strange words he said back in the tailoring room when he mentioned the ring being a charm for good luck. Heat began to creep on your cheeks, as you realized how offly sweet that was of him.

“Well, then I suppose I must thank you. If it weren’t for you, I may have gotten more than just my money and bag taken.”

“Ah, so that is what it was. Well, you don’t need to worry any longer, my dear. This hotel is safe from any kind of danger.” He patted your hand assuringly as you walked, “Which is why I only offered the idea back there, as I believe it benefits you more than anyone here.”

Alastor did all this because he cared about your well-being? The ring, the teleportation, living here, the killing. All for you. Even, your “relationship” with him was just that. Your mind went back to when he had laughed in the lobby, like the thought of being with you was that big of a joke to tell all his friends. He could have just not said anything! And yet, he acted so gentle and kind to you, even asking for your permission to kill your boss, just for asking you on a date!

Sure, you’ve only met Alastor like, what, twice? So, you weren’t expecting such a serious step in a relationship to be taken so fast, nor anything similar. But, there was no way Alastor had been doing all this out of the kindness of his heart, he’s the Radio Demon.

There had to be a real reason. He hasn’t even communicated his feelings on the matter, does he expect you to read every thought behind his gaze? You frowned, irritation setting on your face.

“I’m surprised you did all this,” you start, taking a slight step away from Alastor as you slip your arm out of his hold, continuing to keep pace with his footsteps, “seeing as you think what I have experienced this past week is so funny.”

Alastor halted in his tracks, and you were jerked slightly as you were pulled back from the hold on his arm. He turned his head to you, his ears flattened slightly as he searched your gaze. He tapped his claws against his cane, fast and erratic as he observed you.

“Are you referring to what I said when I introduced you?” He questioned slowly, That smile creeping a little higher as he tried to keep up the charm. You crossed your arms, attempting a stern stance as you took another step back.

“Yes, I didn’t exactly expect to be the punchline to your dismissive jokes.”

“My intentions were not to make light of recent events, I can assure you,” Alastor cleared his throat, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips, “I simply wanted to gauge their reaction to such a statement, as I’ve spoken before, one must always be prepared for every situation. And, you must stop referring to them as my ‘friends’, I hardly know them.”

You didn’t have time to process his strange words before Alastor reached an arm out towards you, beckoning for you to take his hand. You only hesitated a second before crumbling, your fingers brushing softly against Alastor’s palm as he lifted your hand towards him. With one digit, he traced up your ring finger, before settling just above your knuckle. You hitched your breath, watching as a string of green light wrapped around your finger. It thickened, before a light green cloud of smoke poured from the light. Leaning down, Alastor lightly blew against your finger, and the smoke dispersed. Your eyes widened when that familiar, golden band began to glint against the hallway lights.

“There, now do you see? My words have been nothing but truthful, my doe.”

His fingers stayed on your hand a little longer, brushing softly against your knuckles, before he withdrew. You pulled your hand closer, twisting your finger until you could see it, that little rose-gold A etched onto the ring’s surface. A warm smile crept onto your lips as you inspected it. You kind of missed the feeling of it snuggled against your skin.

“Well, when you put it like that...” you trailed off, and Alastor grinned widely, accepting your response with a grin as he sidled close to you, motioning to the door in front of him. You turned, your eyes landing on the small 7 etched in gold against the wood. Was this your room?

“Am I staying here?” You questioned, turning to Alastor.

“Preferably, and it is a short distance from my room. Should you ever acquire my assistance, of course.”

“Where is your room?”

Alastor turned, one claw pointed directly across the little hallway towards a replica of your door. Okay.. his room was literally ten feet from you, he wasn’t playing when he said it was a “short” distance. Were you complaining, though?

Suddenly, a yawn overcame you, and your hand lifted to shield your gaping mouth as you sighed softly. God, you were awfully exhausted, mentally and physically. Alastor watched you rub your eyes, before he softened, that smile fading just a tad as his eyes glanced at the clock hung on the wall near your door.

“It seems like it has gotten late, I apologize for keeping you from your beauty sleep.” He bowed his head respectfully to you, withdrawing closer into the shadows. “I do hope you’ll consider the offer of staying at the hotel, better than the neighborhoods crawling with thugs back in the city.”

You nodded, smiling at him as your fingers snaked around the door handle. “I will think about it, don’t worry. I did find some interest in Charlie’s words when we went on that tour.”

“Wonderful. I bid you a good night then, my doe.”

You twisted the handle, backing slowly into the shaded room. You sent a small wave, smiling at him as you shut the door. Your surroundings were drenched in darkness, and you placed your forehead against the cool, wooden frame. You sighed, letting your muscles come loose finally in the quiet of your private domain.

Wow, what a day.

You awoke the next morning, dark circles under your eyes as you groaned sleepily from the rays of morning light hitting your face. The plush white covers slid around you, a large pillow in your hold as you pulled it close to your chest. You snuggled your face deeper into it, intent on falling back into blissful dreams.

Except, nothing came. Your brain just kept prodding you to wake, to rise from the warmth of your makeshift nest and greet the day.

‘To greet Alastor!’ It whispered excitedly, and you stirred again.

What time was it? Waking in a room different from yours always throws off your sleep schedule. Turning your head slightly, you eyed the digital clock on the bedside table. It was seven in the morning, you had slept for almost ten hours. Impressive.

Slowly, you rose from the bed, your arms lifting above your head as you took a big stretch. Yawning, you pivoted, your feet landing on the cold, unfamiliar wood floor.

You sat there for a moment, your eyelids lifting slowly as you let yourself wake naturally.

What was your plan today? It seemed like Alastor insisted on you staying at the hotel, as well as Charlie. But, you had a place of your own. One that you rented, but with all your stuff nonetheless.

You still had a job, but seeing as the Hazbin Hotel provided everything of necessity for free, it wouldn’t hurt to lessen your load and start working part-time. Plus, less Alan. Yay!

Maybe, you’d go home later, collect what you needed and come back. You could even see if Alastor would do his little teleportation trick, it wasn’t so bad being pulled around like that if it cut your travel time to only a few seconds.

It seemed like this was your new room too, which wasn’t so bad. There was a bathroom, a balcony, a dining table, and basic furniture. And, Alastor was right across the hall! You were surprised when he had placed you so close to his own living quarters.

Wasn’t your relationship just a farce, like he had joked in the lobby yesterday night? Maybe, he felt you’d feel more comfortable being near someone familiar.

Maybe, he felt more comfortable having you close to him.

These thoughts spun through your head as you got ready for the day. Your face was soaked with water as you reached for a hand towel on the rack next to the bathroom sink, the soft cotton refreshing as you sank your face into it.

Weirdly, there was a small stack of fresh clothes on top of your dresser. Also weirdly, in your size. Who could have put them there? You examined them anyway, finding them not too far off from your normal style before slipping into the garments.

Opening the curtains, you pushed open the balcony doors. That cool breeze brushed against your ears as you inhaled a deep breath. A smile playing on your lips as you let the warmth of a new day hit your cheeks.

It was nice here, actually. The hotel was far enough away from the streets that the smell of garbage and booze didn’t hit your nose as you inhaled the breeze again. You couldn’t hear the loud profanities or honking cars from all the way up here.

It was amazing. Maybe, staying here was going to be pretty good.

You left the fresh air draft into your room, as you walked to the door. Your fingers caressed the handle for only a moment as you hesitated, before you shook yourself and took a deep breath. The door slowly creaked open, squeaking as it inched backward. Your head slowly peaked out of the door, your eyes scanning down the hall, before eventually landing in front of you.

Alastor’s door. The wood was dark, walnut-brown with golden borders that glinted underneath the wall sconces. There was nothing unusual about it, but it was it being his door that made it stand out against all the identical rooms in this hotel.

Should you knock? Ask him for directions back to the lobby? No, that was going to be weird. You didn’t want him to think you were using him or anything. No matter how much of a gentleman he acted.

Instead, you simply slipped through the threshold and quietly shut the door behind you.

Okay… so you definitely remember your room being on the right side of the hall when you came here last night. Which meant the lobby was somewhere left. Nice, at least we’re getting somewhere.

Turning, you begin your trek down the long hallway. Your eyes would occasionally glance at paintings, or your reflection on wall-length mirrors, as you walked. It wasn’t long before you arrived at a larger sub room, with a few pieces of furniture like benches and side tables. There was a TV in one corner, with stacks of newspapers on a coffee table in front of it.

It seemed to be like a small lounge, and you noted that in your head for later. The problem was, the room then split into three separate hallways. Your shoulders dropped, and your lips curved downward at the sight. Why was this place hellbent on meddling with your biggest weakness?

Crossing the room to one corridor, you peeked around the corner. There was nothing familiar you could pick out from it, no distant noises that gave you an inking of a guess. You gulped, how exactly were you supposed to get back to civilization now?

“There you are, my dear!”

You turned, your back hitting the wall as you watched the red demon stroll towards you. He stopped a few steps away, a pleased look on his face at the sight of you.

“Alastor! I was hoping to catch a familiar face out here.”

“Well, aren’t you glad that face was me?” He beamed, extending his arm out for you to take. Without hesitation, you slid your arm into his hold, locking at the elbows.

“Of course! You are the only familiar face here, honestly. I might have forgotten your friends' names during the night.” You smiled apologetically.

“Don’t worry, they are quite colorful characters, these people. I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“They seem to be, although I'm not sure whether they like me yet.”

“Oh, I’m sure they do,” Alastor smiled, patting your hand assuring. “you exude a warmth and charm that it is impossible not to be drawn to.”

Heat crept into your cheeks, and you averted your gaze to the ground.

“Take those silly fellows that can’t seem to stop bothering you, always courting for your affection, my word, just practically begging for your attention!”

Well, that was a more positive light on what you’ve been through this past week.

“If those are the kind of people that want my attention. Then, maybe I don’t want any of it at all.”

Alastor was silent for a moment as the two of you continued walking, you felt his arm in your hold tense slightly. Was he thinking about something?

“Come now, my dear. There are plenty of individuals who would cherish every moment spent in your company, without resorting to such antics.”

You lifted your head and met his gaze, and he only continued to smile at you. His eyes were genuine, as he looked at you. One might even consider them soft. Is that how Alastor felt when the two of you spent time together?

You hadn’t spoken very much to him, at least on personal matters. But, with how the others in the hotel regarded him, it seemed he didn’t do that ever.

Has he ever told them about his mother or her recipes? Trusted them to fix his clothes, to care for him? Alastor seemed to put distance—figuratively and literally—between him and others.

But, with you? Well, calling a strange woman your wife the first time you laid eyes on her is rather bold and personal for such a man.

You felt flustered at the thought that you were the one Alastor chose for such things. You averted your gaze again, a sheepish smile on your lips.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.”

“It’s nothing at all. Why don’t you join me for some coffee? There is a patio right at the front of the hotel, it’s my favorite place to spend my mornings.”

He wanted to spend time with you? Well, you weren’t going to argue with that.

“Of course, I'd love to! You’ll just have to lead the way.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

The two of you walked in silence, as you passed through another long hallway. You could hear faint voices in the distance, growing louder at each step.

Was everyone else in the lobby? Would you have to greet them all again?

You saw the large threshold of the front room, and saw the glimpse of the large stained-glass front doors peeking from the corner. Right as you were about to walk through, Alastor nudged you to the side of the hall, and you turned to find a small set of stairs leading up a level.

You tried to memorize the path in your mind, for next time. The voices from the lobby grew more audible now, and you could hear what sounded like Charlie and Sir. Pentious speaking. A conversation about his path to redemption.

Isn’t that what they expected you to do now? Beg to Heaven to let you through the pearly gates because you repented for your sins? You doubted whether that was even possible.

As you neared the staircase, you turned your head to the lobby before looking back to Alastor. Were they just going to ignore the rest of the residents? You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Are we not going to say hello to your friends?”

“Why bother? They have their routines, we have ours.”

You didn’t say anything to that, instead, just let him glide the two of you up the stairs towards a pair of glass doors. You could see the light-red hues of morning peeking from the drawn shades.

Carefully, Alastor twisted the handle and pulled open the doors, that cool breeze hitting your face as soon as you stepped through the doorway.

“Well, here we are.” He spoke, slowly unlacing his arm from yours.

In front of you, was a small tea table and a single chair staring out at the city. A few flowers decorated along the short, metal railing in porcelain pots. Their colorful blossoms swayed gently in the breeze, as you stepped up to the table.

“Do forgive me, my dear. I seem to have forgotten a seat, I'm not used to company up here.”

With a quick snap of his fingers, a second, identical chair materialized across the table. A small radio emerged from a small pool of green fog as it dispersed on a post at one edge of the railing. It played a soft, jazzy melody as you crossed the small balcony, before positioning yourself in front of the seat to sit.

“Please, allow me.” Alastor appeared beside you, one hand on the chair’s back as he pulled it out from the table.

“Why, aren’t you just a gentleman?” You teased, before lowering yourself onto the small cushion velcroed to the chair’s seat. You felt Alastor push you closer to the table, before he lowered himself slightly to meet your gaze.

“Now, what would you like to drink? Tea, coffee, orange juice? Anything you desire, my dear.” He spoke, smiling as his nails clicked rhythmically against the table.

You told him, and with another snap of his fingers, two pieces of glassware settled upon the table. A pitcher materialized in his hand, before Alastor lowered it to your cup and began pouring the contents.

It swirled around your glass, and you watched it settle as he poured it to the brim. Your eyes trailed his hands as the pitcher melded into a coffee pot, and you watched the dark, steaming liquid land into his glass.

He didn’t add any cream or sugar, and you watched in surprise as he settled into his seat without any modifications to his drink.

“You drink your coffee black?” You asked curiously, an eyebrow quirked as you tilted your head at him.

“Mm, yes. I find that it helps sharpen the senses, and heightens one’s awareness. In a place like this, one must always have control of their surroundings. Don’t you think so?”

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink as you listened. He was right, in a way, about needing to be prepared for anything in Hell. But, why continue to punish yourself by taking away the few good things you could have in such a depressing realm? Maybe, Alastor didn’t think there was any good in Hell.

Watching Alastor lift the coffee to his lips, you noticed the way his entire face softened as the bitter flavor hit his tongue. His smile was so very faint now, almost a firm line, but it seemed.. peaceful. His eyes were slightly lidded, in an expression of contentedness as the breeze tickled at the fur on his ears. The music was peaceful white noise as you sat there, hand underneath your chin, gazing at Alastor as he looked out at the city, a small smile on his lips. Oh, how you so enjoyed his lipped smiles.

It was like that for a few more quiet moments, as the sky continued to lighten until Alastor turned his eyes to you. You squirmed underneath his gaze, realizing you were caught mid-ogle by him. He regarded you curiously for a few moments.

“Find anything of interest in your observation?” Alastor asked slyly, a teasing smile on his lips.

“Your ears are very fluffy” You blurted, before slapping a hand to your mouth. Alastor’s eyes widened slightly at your brazen response.

“Pardon?” He asked after a moment, the static in his tone thicker, hoarser, as the words left his lips. As if he couldn’t comprehend that was what you had landed on. Did no one ever compliment his ears? Correction, did no one ever genuinely compliment him other than to save their skin or to praise his power?

“Your ears, when the wind blows on them they puff out a little from the cold,” you practically whispered through your fingers, “I imagine if someone were to squeeze them, they'd feel so soft too, like squishing a plush teddy bear.”

You buried your face farther into your hands as those words left your lips, heat creeping onto your cheeks. Why were you thinking about touching his head? What happened to not taking too bold of steps? You did not need to overindulge him on what you thought of his ears. Jesus, you were embarrassing.

Peeking through your fingers, you saw Alastor averting his gaze, taking a sudden interest in some flowers near his chair. His ears were flattened slightly, as he adjusted the collar of his suit feverishly. His smile wavered slightly, flickering to a nervous expression. Was Alastor flustered by your comment?

“What an–ahem–unique perspective. My, you are such a charm, my dear, you truly have a way with words. Thank you for the compliment.”

There was silence again, as the tune from the radio seemed to grow slightly louder, drowning out your beating heart. You grabbed your drink, throwing your head back and downing the rest of it in one gulp. If only it was alcohol instead, so you could at least have an excuse for your comments. It was Alastor who spoke up again next, and you were relieved to be changing the topic.

“Tell me, now that you’ve gotten a little more familiar with it, what do you think of the hotel?”

“I think it’s… cute,” you answered softly, your finger circling the lip of your glass as you thought of more to say, “Charlie has a very large dream, and she seems to be the best one suited for the job with the influence she has. But, her residents…? Well, I wonder whether they have it in them to change, especially that–ah, what was his name–guy, Angel Dust? I could see Sir. Pentious being redeemed though. I’m sure he’d do good in Heaven.”

A small chuckle reverberated from Alastor’s throat as he closed his eyes, an amusing smile on his lips. You closed your mouth quickly, leaning back slightly. What was so funny about what you said?

“What?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow again as you crossed your arms.

Alastor cleared his throat, before meeting your eyes again. “Nothing, I just find the concept of a second chance awfully.. silly, you could say.”

“You don’t believe in sinners being able to go to Heaven?”

“Goodness, not at all.”

“But.. you’re helping run the hotel trying to do just that?”

“Well, yes, but it is just simple charity work. I had heard about this place on that noisy little picture box months ago, and how much the demons on the street laughed at it.” Alastor took another large sip of his coffee, adjusting his monocle slightly as he set the cup back down. “That is the problem, my dear. Every sinner in this city has had their chance at going to Heaven, back on earth. They lost it, and now, they’ll only laugh at the concept of such a thing.”

“What was life like for you?”

“Life?” Alastor raised his eyebrows at you, his claws halting mid-tap against the table's surface. His ears swiveled slightly to face you, his gaze curious.

You grimaced, you hadn’t meant to ask that out loud. Should you brush it off? Just because he told you about his mother and his radio show, doesn’t mean he was going to fill you in on his entire past. But, you were so curious! What kind of man did your false husband wake up to be every morning? What did he experience that gave him such pessimistic, ultra-realistic views?

“On Earth,” you clarified, straightening in your seat as you fidgeted with the glass in front of you, “What was it like?”

“Ah, you want to know more about the greatest era in mankind’s history? I’d love to indulge you on such a topic! You know, the first radio station was started in the 1920’s, and of course that only was the beginning of such a wonderful medium. I believe it was called KDKA, I remember exactly where I was standing when the first broadcast hit the radio, I believe it was about th–”

“No, I mean, what did you do on Earth, Alastor?” You interrupted, prodding him for a real answer. You weren’t looking for a history lesson, you wanted to know more about him.

“Me?” He sputtered, caught off guard by your question once more.

“What was your favorite thing to do when you were a child?”

Alastor looked like he wasn’t going to respond, for a moment. His eyes were squinting at you, reading your expression. Did he think you had some kind of ulterior motive? That you were going to take any information and sell it to the highest bidder against him? Your expression was genuine, however, and he only sighed. His brows furrowed in thought, as he recalled distant memories.

“Sometimes, my mother would send me to town for baking ingredients, and every time I'd choose the longest route, which was Frenchmen Street. New Orleans is famous for many things, art, food, but most importantly, music.”

“Music?”

“Indeed! Music is the heartbeat of New Orleans,” Alastor continued, a wistful smile playing on his lips as he delved into memories of his childhood. "I remember those days vividly, wandering that long, vibrant street, soaking in the melodies that filled the air. Jazz, blues, the soulful rhythms that seemed to draw in huge crowds like moths to a flame."

He paused, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "And then there were the nights when the city truly came alive. My mother would take me to smoky jazz clubs, where the air hummed with energy and every note seemed to carry a story. I was captivated by the raw emotion of the musicians, their ability to weave tales with nothing but their instruments and their voices."

A flicker of nostalgia danced in his eyes as he recalled the details, those hidden, buried emotions rising out of him slowly. “I realized then how powerful such mediums truly were, they had the magical ability to perpetuate emotions, feed the crowds, and fuel the thoughts. Music is just another form of art, of course. I’m sure you saw our dear artist’s paintings, and I’m sure they stirred something in you, hm?”

You nodded slowly, leaning forward in your seat, enraptured in his words as they spilled from his tongue. Gosh, his voice was just so nice to listen to. That radio overlay that dripped from his tone was like white noise that tickled your brain with pleasure. You thought his laughs were cute, the way they crackled softly with static.

“I’m sure you would have been happy standing there for hours just to marvel at its beauty. Music can do the same, and when you’re a famous radio host like me,” Alastor gestured to himself, a prideful smirk on his lips, “You need that form of hypnosis to get all the listeners to tune in to the next broadcast, and to keep their interest. Without that power, I wouldn’t be as well known as I am now.”

You were sure he would still be well known for more than his radio broadcasts, with the reputation Alastor had with his… violent tendencies.

“There,” Alastor sighed, like a heavy weight was lifted off of his chest, “are you pleased with my response, my dear?”

“I think I am sated for now.” You responded with a smile, batting your eyelashes as you leaned back into your chair.

“Good, now, I believe it is my turn to ask you a question.” Alastor straightened, his claw clicking softly against the table in sync with the music buzzing in the background. You raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly in anticipation as he leaned slightly across the table.

“Have you decided on whether you are going to reside at the hotel and try redemption?”

You tensed, smiling wider as your mind raced. Sweat beaded on your eyebrow as Alastor looked at you expectantly. What was your decision? Sure, you’d get free room and board, it was no doubt safer than your home, and maybe, just maybe, redemption could actually work. But, was it enough to flip your whole life upset down, over what, a demon man who helped you out a couple of times?

“Alastor, I–”

Your voice was drowned out by a powerful explosion that rocked the patio, the radio fell from the railing and disappeared from sight, as the music faded with it. Your ears rang from the small blast, which had barely missed the wall of the hotel. Alastor’s head snapped to the source of violence, eyes narrowing as the figures of burly demons grew more visible as they approached. There were about four of them, who each held pistols, and a few rolled a grenade between their fingers.

“Angel Dust!! Come out here, you filthy skank!” One snarled from the group, fist raised towards the hotel.

“Ah shit!” You could hear the faint voice of the spider demon coming from the lobby, it sounded frantic as a head poked out from the large entrance doors.

“What did you do?!” You heard Vaggie growl, as another explosion rocked the side of the hotel.

“I sold em’ fake drugs! They thought they were buying coke, but I only gave em’ baking powder!”

“Angel, you idiot!” Vaggie snarled in response.

You shrunk back in your chair, your heart beating erratically and you watched a few more men gather on the hill. What was going to happen? Why did this always happen to you?

Alastor sighed exasperatedly, rising from his seat as he straightened his bowtie. He turned towards you, walking to your place across the table. Your hands were still resting on its surface when Alastor reached down and gently grasped them, before lifting them to your face. He laid your palms against your eyelids, adjusting your fingers to where only darkness greeted your vision.

“Just keep still just like this for now, my dear. I will be back in only a moment!” He replied chipperly, before you felt footsteps fade away from earshot. The silence didn't last very long, before your thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of screaming and strangled gasps. You felt the ground rumbling slightly under your feet, and you only shrunk deeper into your chair.

The screaming wasn't anyone familiar though, instead, it sounded like it was those drug dealers

“Yeah! Kick their ass, Alastor!” Angel Dust cheered from your left, and you perked.

Your fingers splayed slightly, as you picked between the gaps. Your vision was greeted with large, dark green tentacles that snaked in the air. They weaved around small figures who were scrambling across the clearing in a desperate attempt to survive. Some wrapped around the flailing demons, before pitching them far in the distance. Their screams faded as they disappeared from view.

You couldn’t see Alastor, but you assumed he was out of harm's way since the tentacles were doing a good job corralling the thugs. There were a few stragglers that managed to dodge his attacks, though. That became very obvious when a clawed hand reached over the railing, and you screamed as a dark gray, shark-faced man rose into sight.

He growled at you, as he landed with a thump on the old, cracked tile. A large knife was pulled from a sheath around his waist, and he twisted it between his fingers as he stalked up to you. You pressed yourself as deep into your chair as possible, your body frozen in terror.

“₩ⱧɆⱤɆ ĐØ ɎØɄ ₮Ⱨł₦₭ ɎØɄⱤɆ ₲Øł₦₲?” You heard a snarl of static from the ground, before a tentacle wrapped roughly around the shark demon’s body. His face morphed into a look of terror, right before he was flung away from the patio and beat into the ground by the large mass.

The gang of thugs were almost finished, as you finally exhaled a shaky breath. Your heart felt like it was about to burst, and your eyes darted around the area for any danger.

You shot up from the chair, scrambling to the doorway for safety. You stumbled off balance as the ground rumbled underneath your feet once more, your knees hitting the tile.

Growling in pain, you twisted your head to get a look at what had happened. Your eyes darted across them before you saw the small, cylindrical object fly towards you and land against the railing of the patio.

It erupted into a small ball of flame, before it burst into a large cloud of dark gray smoke, shaking the floor beneath you more violently as shrapnel flew. You tried to scramble away, as the large table was thrown to its side, and began to skid across the tiles towards you.

Your body couldn’t react fast enough to dodge the incoming object, instead, all you could do was throw your arms up and curl closer to yourself, screaming. Praying for mercy from the oncoming blow.

Except… nothing happened. The chaos still ensued around you, and the screams of terror and maniacal laughter still rang in your ears. You felt no pain, yet could still feel the breeze whipping against your arms as you held them up defensively. What just happened? You’re not like, double-dead, are you?

Slowly, you lowered your arms, planting them beneath you to help lift yourself from the ground. As you rose to your feet, your eyelids fluttered open.

The table was split in half, lying burnt on both sides of the patio. A slight trail of smoke wafted from their remains, and your eyes traveled across the tiled floor to what had caused the destruction.

Your eyes landed on an unfamiliar figure, their white overcoat swaying slightly in the wind as they regarded you. That platinum-blonde hair glinted in the morning light beneath the rim of his hat, and your eyes rested on those awfully familiar red cheek spots that stuck out from his pale face.

Your mouth dropped open, eyes widening, as the name of this strange man dawned on you. The image of the fallen angel, the most powerful man in the realm, stood before you.

Lucifer, the King of Hell, was leaning against the partially-destroyed railing. His arms crossed as he regarded your slightly battered form curiously.

“Did I miss anything?” The apple-cheeked man teased, sending you a charming grin. His demeanor was calm, and playful, despite the chaotic scene around him.

Would it be taken as disrespectful if you fainted right about now?

man i rlly dug myself into a hole with these titles huh x) i’ll think of something guys don’t worry. but can i just say how much i love throwing the reader into all this chaos, fun fun!

lmk what you think :)

taglist 🏷️

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites @lunaramune @enigmatic-blues @thytorturedpoet @vanhelsingsbigtoe @mixplara @blue122 @zardward @loser-bby @sirens-and-moonflowers @diaouranask @luzzbuzz @theredviolets @the-attention-whore @rayanicaraynbow @girl-nahh-two @moonmark98 @asianfrustration13 @fairyv-ice @missam @beezgobuzzbuzz @valentique @dory-98 @mo-0-o @willow404 @laundrybear @karolinda007-blog @nightreverie

(it only lets me mention 50 of you?! im so sorry to the rest of y’all 😭😭 i’ll reblog it with more tags sksksjjsjsj)

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader

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wrongplacerighttime · 2 months

Text

bartender!harry x you

your favorite bartender names a drink for you, and you're almost convinced its the end of the world, until your heart leads you back to him.

featuring: soft!harry, an apology, and a cat named Sylvester.

tw: 18+!!, mentions drinking, angst, lots and lots of fluff, soft smut, small itty bitty breeding kink if u squint really hard.

wc: 5k

marigold

A typical Saturday night for you looked like this:

One too many whiskey shots, karaoke with your friends, and passed out on the way home in the uber someone ordered.

This Saturday wasn’t any different so far.

You had just gotten off the stage, out of breath from singing Strawberry Wine a little too loudly with your friends. You wove your way through crowds of sweaty bodies and made your way to the bar in the back.

And there he was. Your favorite person on earth.

The bartender.

It wasn’t because he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life, or the fact that he listened to you whenever you were spiraling wistfully through your drunken thoughts.

It mostly just came down to the fact that he made really good drinks.

Harry knew exactly how you liked your whiskey, at what point in the night you’d want a margarita to cool off with (usually after the karaoke), and he knew when to cut you off before you regretted it the next morning.

So when you stumbled over to the bar looking for his signature smirk, he was already sliding the glass across the lacquered surface, placing a lime on the rim once you settled yourself on the barstool across from him. He went back to washing glasses, biceps flexing and relaxing between motions under the sleeves of his black tee as you sip on your drink.

He watches you out of the corner of his eye, keeping you within earshot while some prick named Garret flirts with you. It almost hurt his feelings when he didn’t hear you rejecting his embarrassingly cheesy advances. He knew he could treat you better than any other asshole in this place, so it always surprised him when you would leave with one of them. He just wanted you to be safe, and he knew that the men that frequented his bar weren’t some of the finest to grace your presence. He would try his hand at flirting with you, tell you how nice you looked, and use his pick up lines that worked with so many others.

But they never worked on you...or so he thought.

You were an enigma to him, a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.

“Leave me alone, Garret. I’m not leaving with you tonight.” He heard you mumble, however, Garret was persistent. He glances over out of the corner of his eye and sees that Garret has you cornered in your seat, his arm around the back of your chair and the other steadied on the bar as he leaned into you. You were trying to create space, but he was practically pushing you up against the wall and Harry didn’t like that. He threw the towel over his shoulder and turned to face the situation.

“Garret, she said she wasn’t leaving with you. I suggest you get lost, unless you want to be barred from my establishment.” He says calmly, but firm. He leans his weight into his own arms placed on the bar, muscles flexing and veins popping, cocking an eyebrow upwards as he watches Garret intently. Harry's eyes never leave Garret as his flick between the two of you. He mumbles expletives under his breath before pushing from the bar and stumbling away. Harry hears you breathe out a sigh you had been holding in and when his eyes meet yours you smile.

“Thanks. He’s relentless.” You pause. “Sometimes I go home with him so he’ll just leave me alone.” You confess and he’s never heard you say anything like this before, he's not even sure you understood what you implied. Instead of replying immediately, he listens. Listens to you ramble about Garret and every other guy that attempts to win you over with their drunken pick up lines. He was scrubbing a glass, lost in his thoughts, thinking how it would look to have you upstairs in his apartment, dancing around the kitchen with each other when you clear your throat, plucking him from his daydreams.

“I asked you a question, Har.” You giggle as you sip through the straw in your glass.

“Sorry, flower. I was a little distracted.” He peeks over, smirking. “What did you ask?” “I asked if there was anyone special in your life.” Curiosity getting the better of you, because he always listens to what you have to say and you're tired of talking about yourself. He'd never talked about a girlfriend before and you're not sure how someone as beautiful as him could be single.

“If you count my cat, Sylvester. Otherwise, no.” He informs you and you widen your eyes.

“You have a cat?” Your words slur together in disbelief and he nods.

“Does that surprise you?” He asks with a chuckle.

“Just don’t strike me as the cat type.” You pause, thoughts swirling through your head. “I want to meet him.”

“I promise you don’t. He’s a terrorist.” He jokes, laughing between his words. “I found him outside under the dumpster when he was just a baby…I haven’t known peace for a single day since.” He says in a serious tone and it makes you laugh. He brings down bottles of liquor and mixes and juices from the shelf above his head and mixes up concoctions, tasting them before pouring them out. To you, it seems like a waste. You let him go on for a while longer before you decide to interrupt.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“Just been working on a new signature to add to the menu. Can’t get the ratio quite right though.” He mutters and you watch as his hands move expertly around the bottles, mixing exact ratios without having to measure them out.

You chat for a while longer, enjoying his company until your friends find you and they’re ready to leave. You tell him goodbye and he watches you until you disappear out the door, wishing he had the guts to tell you how he feels outright instead of dancing around the topic, and how he only has eyes for you every time you come in here.

You’re the sole reason why he works on Saturdays.

He’ll never forget the first time he saw you at his bar. He was upstairs in his apartment reading when he looked at the clock and noticed it was nearing closing time, an hour or so left until the straggling patrons would be forced out and he knew that last-call had already been announced. He went down to see if the bartender working needed help with anything before he turned in for the night, and when he stepped in he saw you laughing with your friends at a high top table.

It was over for him then.

He hung around for the next hour, nursing a draft in a glass he poured himself and fighting the sleep begging to take over his body. Your group wasn’t paying attention when all the lights came on, brightening the dimmed room, you didn’t notice you were the last ones here and if he was waiting for an excuse to talk to you…that was it. He made his way to you, weaving through chairs and tables and when you looked at him, finally, he almost lost the words he wanted to say. Stuttering over them, he felt embarrassed as you smiled at him and you and your friends hopped from your stools and left, but not before he mustered the courage to ask you if you were coming back anytime soon and you nodded, informing him that you and your friends had been coming every Saturday for a few months now, his bar quickly had become their favorite spot. He felt guilty that he hadn’t paid attention before, but he made sure he was the one behind the bar every Saturday since then.

Now, here you were. Walking out laughing with your friends, like you did every Saturday, without a second look back at him…even though he willed it to happen every time.

Yet, he couldn’t wait until next week to do it over again.

Next Saturday comes and it’s unfamiliar territory for you this time. It was your turn to be the designated driver, you and your friends trying not to pay excessive amounts for rideshares anymore. While your friends make their way to a table, you detour to the bar and when your eyes meet Harry's, his hardened expression turns to something lighter as you approach. He’s smiling, a toothy grin that has you biting the inside of your cheek and looking at the floor.

Maybe it was the lighting…or maybe it was the idea of him. You had never really seen him while you were in a sober mindset and this was a different dynamic. He knew the drunk you, the one who was confident and not afraid of anything.

Truth be told, you were a little nervous to talk to him. He always pushed shots towards you when you walked in, and you were grateful for the confidence boost it gave you because otherwise you didn’t think you’d even approach him.

But it’s hard to remind yourself that you don’t need to be nervous, it’s just Harry.

“There’s my flower.” He greets you with the nickname he penned for you after a few weeks of chatting and getting to know you. He pushes the shot towards you but you shake your head as you hop up onto the bar stool and he cocks an eyebrow at you, confused at your refusal. “Are you sick? Do I need to take you to the ER?” He jokes and you laugh.

“No, actually. I’m just taking on the role of designated driver tonight.” You rest your chin in your hand and sigh. He replaces the whiskey with a glass of ice water feigning hesitation, mouthing a “sorry” as he moves down the bar to take other orders.

He’s busy for a while so you sit and watch him sling drinks and pour drafts. He’s comfortable, he’s confident, and you feel a sense of longing for him, willing him to come back over and talk with you…and you wonder why you’d never accepted his advances before. It could be that you were scared, not thinking he was serious and that he was just being a friendly bartender. You were always drunk and the alcohol clouded your judgment slightly.

But you always knew when he was flirting. He would clear your tab, and you would walk out paying literally nothing more often than not. He wouldn’t even let you tip him because he refused to take your money and he insisted that he made enough.

As if he could read your mind, he came back over and was breathing heavily out of breath from trying to keep up, the amount of people in the bar nearing capacity. Still, he smiles at you and as he’s catching his composure he grabs bottles from the shelf above him.

“Remember that drink I was making last week?” He asks and you search your memory to pinpoint the moment he was talking about. You faintly recall him mixing drinks and tasting them before dumping them down the drain, so you nod. “I think I finally got it right.” He says while pouring the concoction, placing it in your view once it was complete, then he perches an orange on the rim and slides it towards you.

“I said I wasn’t drinking.” You joke, knowing a sip won't be enough to have you feeling any effects, bringing the glass up to your nose and sniffing, the scent of citrus and schnapps filling your nostrils and when you sip, there’s a hint of something floral that you can’t quite place. It’s perfectly layered, the orange fading into yellow seamlessly like a sunrise left unblemished in a cloudless sky, shimmering just slightly in the low lit atmosphere.

And it’s so good.

“Do you like it?” He asks, waiting for your response and shifting his weight nervously. He needed it to be perfect for you…because it was for you. You nod, swallowing and meeting his eyes.

“It’s delicious. What are you calling it?” You ask and the corner of his mouth pulls up in a half grin.

“I think I’m going to call it a Marigold Sunrise.” He says, the volume of his voice almost getting lost in the chatter around you both and you could’ve sworn you misheard him.

“I’m sorry?” You almost choke, sputtering over your words. “Marigold?” “Yeah, actually. I remember one night you told me they were your favorite. I added the floral notes, I think that’s what it was missing. It's yours. I made it for you.”

Your head spins momentarily at his words. He remembered? You were sure that conversation happened over a year ago. You stare at him, blinking with a blank expression painted over your face. You don’t know how to react. It’s not a big deal, it’s just a drink.

Except your mind convinces you this makes things more complicated than they need to be. He’s just the bartender at the bar you frequent, this meant you were going to have to find somewhere else to go, because you couldn’t actually spend your time here anymore knowing he probably expects you to give him something in return.

But he’s not just a bartender. He’s Harry. The reason why you come here. The reason why your friends tease you incessantly on the way home every Saturday…because you’re always watching him when he isn’t looking, slotting yourself behind the bar with him in your doe-eyed daydreams. Daydreams you thought would never come to fruition.

“Harry, this is…too much.” The words tumble from your lips before you really think about them. His brows pull together, confusion lacing his eyes.

“What? I thought—” “Whatever you thought, save it. I don’t want this. I didn’t ask for this.” Your tone is harsher than you wanted it to be. You push the glass away and gather your things, walking away from him without so much as a glance back. You find your friends, apologizing for ruining their fun but that you would take them somewhere else, wanting to be anywhere but here.

Harry stands behind the bar, dumbfounded and lost on what he did wrong. He watches you leave, holding the door for your friends. Your head moves slightly, and he can just make out the outline of your profile. He thinks you’re going to look back at him, come back and explain to him what he did to make you react this way.

But you don’t.

This time he doesn’t know if you’ll come back.

The street was quiet and the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, blue hue taking over the dark of the night. The bar was dark except for the light left on behind the bar and the neon hanging on the walls. He might even already be in bed. After you left earlier, your friends requested a bar on the other side of town and you drove them there on autopilot, sitting at a table staring blankly at the wall, the sounds around you muffled from lack of focus on your part. When they were ready to leave, you got them home safely and aimlessly drove around with no destination in mind. You let your mind wander, and after you finally placed your feelings you found you had subconsciously made your way back to him, back to the bar. Like your heart was making your decision without you even realizing. Like it knew where you needed to be.

So you forced yourself out of the driver's seat and timidly made your way to the door. You didn’t know if he would be able to hear you, but you knocked on the glass of the front door anyway. You hug yourself around your torso, the chill of the night air making you shiver slightly. After a moment you’re about to give up, but you see him come around the corner and his eyes widen at the sight of you, his expression reading that he very much was not expecting you to show up at this time, or even at all. The bar closed at 3:00 AM and it was nearing 5 as you stood there waiting for him to open the door.

“Come in, it’s freezing out there.” He says as the barrier between you swings open, the bell above ringing in your ears. You step inside, finding reprieve in the warmth of the bar. You watch him in the afterglow of the neon. It feels out of place, being here in the early hours of the morning, neither of you having had any sleep yet and he rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. You look towards the floor, fiddling with your fingers and you feel terrible that you’re keeping him from sleep, which you’re sure he’d rather be doing after the way you left him earlier.

“I’m sorry, I’m interrupting your rest. I should just go, I don’t know why I came.” You say sheepishly, gesturing a thumb towards the door and you almost turn around before he grabs your arm before you get the chance.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re here. I was almost asleep.” He yawns, stretching his arms over his head and you shake your head.

“This can wait, really. I’ll let you go back to—”

“Flower, I said it was okay. I want you here.” His eyes search yours for a moment before he looks away, towards the stairs that lead up to his apartment. “Do you want to come up? I’ll get you some water.” He nods his head behind him and you nod wordlessly, following him as he takes you to a peek inside of his personality. You stay silent as he grabs a glass from his cupboard and moves through the small kitchen. You allow your eyes to wander around his space, and it’s not anything like you were expecting. You would never think a bar owner lives here, and if you had to describe it, it would be something like a masculine dark academia with a modern twist throughout the interior. He sits the glass in front of you before leaning against the opposite counter and you feel your nerves bubble in your throat when you remember why you’re here.

“Harry…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run away like that earlier. I really am flattered that you made your new signature something for me.” You pause, collecting your thoughts for a second before speaking again. “I’ve just never had anyone make anything for me before, I’ve never had some grand gesture done for me.” You motion with your hands, ultimately letting them fall against your lap again. “I know it sounds silly, and that might not be grand to any normal person, but I got scared…” Trailing off, you look down at your hands in your lap. “I don’t even know why I got scared. I really like you, and I don’t want to scare you away.”

The silence is deafening, the clock ticking on the wall counting the seconds as dawn creeps into the sky. You think he isn’t going to say anything.

Then he clears his throat.

“You could never scare me away.” You force your eyes to meet his. He comes around the counter, closing the space between you slightly. He stands in front of you, searching your face for anything he can find, as if he’s memorizing every freckle, the dip of your nose, the pink of your lips, everything he never wants to forget. “I want you…all of you. Everything you’re afraid of. Every good, every bad, everything in between. I want it all.” He steps forward and takes your hands between his, bringing them to his lips and kissing over your palm once. Resting his cheek against it, you cup his face, tilting your head slightly and biting the inside of your lip to keep your emotions at bay.

You’re both silent for a beat, conveying feelings through subtle glances ghosting over each other's features. You’d never seen him this close before.

He’s right here.

And he’s yours.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper and you nod once, slightly sucking in a breath, preparing for him to surge forward. He shocks you when he doesn’t.

His touch is gentle, featherlight over your jawline and your exhale is shaky, nervous like you’ve never been kissed before.

Your mind wants to wander…wants to get lost down the memory lane of bad lovers and all the times your subconscious thought of him, how it manifested him in your dreams.

His lips brush over yours and pull you from your thoughts. His hand wraps around the back of your neck, tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck and he pulls you closer. His tongue darting out to wet his lips before he presses them to yours…and you melt, sighing against him as you fist his shirt. He was hesitant, like he was testing your boundaries.

You wanted him to know you were all in.

He pulls away just far enough to meet your eyes and if he were being honest, he thinks you’ll run from him again.

You’re thinking how the kiss didn’t last nearly long enough.

“Kiss me again. Please.” You whisper, and he doesn’t hesitate, bringing his lips back to yours like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing. This kiss is more than the first.

More desire…more eagerness…more everything.

His hands find your hips and pull you closer to him, dancing lightly under the hem of your shirt and your skin burns under his touch as you part your thighs and he slots himself between them. Your arms link around the back of his neck, pulling him closer and arching against him. His hands splayed across your back, feeling his want for you growing between your bodies and it makes your belly flip. Your hands drop from his shoulders, running over the expanse of his biceps and mapping their way to his waistline, dipping below the band of his sweats and palming over the fabric of his briefs eliciting a groan that transfers from his mouth to yours. He pulls your wrists from his body and pulls away from your lips, looking at you with dark eyes and his chest rapidly rising and falling trying to catch his breath.

“We don’t have to—I don’t expect you to sleep with me. I hope you know that I’m not just doing this to get myself off.” He places your hands against his chest, holding them there. “I meant it when I said I want all of you.”

“I know. I want all of you, too.” You whisper and he smiles. “I just want to show you how much.” You fist his shirt again and pull him back down to you. “Please let me.” You mutter against his lips, pecking lightly and he nods. He tugs at your hand, pulling you to a stance from your place at the counter and he leads you into his room.

Once there, he pushes you gently onto the bed and climbs over you planting kisses over the sensitive skin in the crook of your neck pulling a whimper from your mouth and he travels lower. He pushes your shirt up and runs his nose along the skin of your stomach leaving goosebumps in its path before you pull it over your head and throw it across the room. He smiles against you, crawling up and finding your face while peppering small kisses over your cheeks and the tip of your nose. His forehead meets yours and your eyes flutter closed.

“Can’t tell you how many times I’ve dreamed of having you like this, flower.” He mumbles and you hum, a dopey smile playing on your lips.

His fingers caper down your torso, finding the button of your jeans and flicking it open with a certain expertise. You help him push them off your waist while your lips meet his once more, the naturally sweet taste of his tongue like candy on yours is something you would crave for the rest of your life. He disrobes his own clothes, barely breaking from your lips to pull his shirt over his head and tossing it towards the same general area as yours.

He spreads you open with his fingers, trailing a digit through your arousal and you shudder at his gentle touch. He teases your aching hole, petting over it continuously, drawing a whine from your throat.

“Tell me what you want, angel.” His voice is low, gravelly in the back of his throat. “Already know, just need to hear you say it.”

“You. Just need to feel you.” The intonation in your voice is nothing short of begging, and he’s not wasting time. He doesn’t want to play, doesn’t want to tease any more than he already has—barely has. He’s just as impatient as you are, fisting his cock and pumping once…twice before he drags the tip through to collect you all over him.

The feel of the most intimate part of him against you sends fireworks bursting through your belly. He lines up, pushing himself in and you both release a sigh, something just felt like it was falling into place. Like it was always supposed to be this way.

He halts when he’s fully in, pausing briefly to let you adjust to the stretch. Your hands grip around his biceps, indenting the muscle beneath his skin and he sets his pace…slow and sensual. You can feel it all, a fire igniting in your heart at every grunt and every groan he doesn’t hold back from you. You let your hands wander down the length of his torso, wrapping around his back and leaving the shapes of crescents in his skin. The sensation forces him to drop his head into your chest, licking and kissing down the valley between your tits as you arch your back, wanting him impossibly closer than he already is.

His pace picks up, his hips meeting yours with more fervor than before. Your eyes flutter closed again and he supports his weight above you on one arm. His movements never falter as he wraps one hand around the back of your neck and forces your mouth on his, teeth clashing and his tongue slips in. He moans into your mouth, the sound so sinful that you clench around him.

“Fuck, if you keep squeezing me like that m’not gonna last.” He mutters with a shaky breath. You smirk, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and sucking lightly before letting the plump skin bounce back into place. He chuckles and you push his sweaty curls away from his forehead. You pull him down to you, your mouth just over his ear and you taste the saltiness on his skin as you lick a path up his neck and he swears under his breath.

“Want you to cum for me, Har. Please. Need to feel it. Need you to fill me.” You whine into his ear and he mutters something incoherent.

“Need you to first, flower.” He pants through gritted teeth. His thrusts become hurried. He’s hitting every spot that you need him to, pulling his cock all the way out to the tip before sliding back into you in a way that has you so close, your resolve dancing on the thinnest of tightropes. He brings his hand to his mouth, spitting on his fingers before slotting it between the two of you, petting slow circles over your clit, and you tumble over.

“I’m gonna cum.” You say, your voice fading into a whimper when you feel the familiar burst of pleasure dance down your spine straight to your core. Your walls flutter around him, willing for him to spill inside of you. The stimulation sends him falling from his own cliff, his hips stutter before you feel his cock twitching and the warmth of him painting you and he drops his forehead to your collarbone, riding out his high slowly.

The both of you lay there, catching breaths for a moment while you run your fingers through his hair and down his back and back up again. Your thighs were still wrapped around him, but you let them fall to the bed and he hums as he slides out, laying beside you and tangling his fingers with yours. You turn towards him and smile

Wordlessly, you revel in each other's presence. He traces your jawline with the back of his hand, you poke his cheek with your finger and he laughs. He stands, pulling you with him into the bathroom. He starts the shower, pulling you to his chest and kissing you lazily while the water heats up.

In the shower, he spoils you a bit, washing your hair for you while you lean into his touch, your back pressing against him as he works his fingers on your scalp deliciously. He takes special care of washing over your skin with sudsy soap and if you weren’t so tired you probably would’ve entertained him with round 2 in the shower. Instead, when he rinses you off he sends you on your way and informs you what drawer he keeps his shirts in while he cleans himself.

Clad in an old, washed-out band shirt, you flop onto his bed and under the covers, exhaustion quickly setting in. You hear the water shut off, but not before you feel the mattress sink from some other presence in the room. Your eyes open and see who must be Sylvester coming closer to you and you grin, extending your hand to him and he sniffs before nudging his head against your fingers. He makes a spot beside you, curling his tail around himself as Harry steps from the bathroom.

He dresses himself and joins you, a look of confusion passing over his face in the orange glow of the rising sun filtering in through the window. You mirror it back to him and he laughs.

“He doesn’t even do that with me.” He informs you, gesturing to Sylvester fast asleep by your legs and you smile tiredly. “Now you really can’t leave.” He whispers, planting a kiss to your forehead before finding his own comfort under the duvet.

And lucky for Sylvester, you didn’t plan on going anywhere.

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cupid-styles · 18 days

Note

I don't know if the requests are still open but I'd love a check up on tattoo artist harry cause I just love them so much 🥰🥰

proud (tattoorry/plugrry)

this was originally a patreon exclusive but I've had it in my drafts for months bc I really wanted to share it here!! so here it is! a little wholesome check-in with our cutie pie couple

word count: 2.4k

content warnings: minor mentions of mental health conditions including anxiety, depression, and trauma

only angel (tattoorry/plugrry) masterlist

main masterlist | talk to me

. . .

“Harry?”

Y/N’s gnawing on the skin of her bottom lip as she wrings her hands in her lap, nervousness apparent on her facial features. Harry glances up from his phone — he’s been mindlessly scrolling through cat videos on Instagram for the past half an hour or so, Friends on in the background as he and Y/N sit snuggled up in cozy throw blankets.

She’d been working up the courage to say something for nearly two hours now, but everytime she went to part her lips and force the words out of her throat, she clammed up.

She couldn’t help the anxiety that crept through her bones, especially because she was used to constantly being looked down on. She knows Harry would never make her feel bad for any choice she made for herself, but what if he thought she was crazy? What if her trauma was too much to deal with? These were the worries that circulated her brain for days, ever since deciding that she wanted to seek out professional mental health help a few weeks ago.

“Hm?” he puts his phone down, locking the screen, “What’s up, dovie?”

Fidgeting with the skin surrounding her chipped nail polish, she swallows tightly. His eyes are analyzing her body language and she suddenly feels small and foolish beneath his gaze, solely because of the trauma from her parents.

They always treated her like she was less than, to the point where she wholeheartedly, truly believed it. In the few months that Y/N’s been on her own and officially dating Harry, he’s been helping her in ways she could have never imagined, but she didn’t want all of her issues to fall on him. It’s the main reason why she decided to find a therapist.

“I’ve been thinking,” she rasps out, her voice cracking. “I think I’m going to start seeing a counselor. To deal with my, um… parents.”

Harry’s posture straightens and his eyebrows furrow, a concerned wrinkle forming between them. (It always showed up when Y/N mentioned anything relating to her family.)

“What do you mean?”

Rolling her lips into her mouth, she prepares the speech she’s been practicing in her head for days.

“I just know I have a lot of trauma from them and I don’t want you to feel responsible for helping me through it all the time,” she says, reciting the explanation word-for-word, “It’s important for me to figure this out on my own and I want it to come from a mental health professional.”

Harry's look of worry almost instantly morphs into a gentle smile. He reaches out to intertwine their fingers together and gives her hand a small squeeze, much to Y/N’s relief. She was terrified he’d take it the wrong way, but the proud expression on his face says different.

“That’s incredible, dovie. I’m so proud of you.”

He leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead, the showcase of love instantly slowing her heartbeat.

“You’re not mad?” she asks, peering up at him through thick eyelashes.

“Of course not,” he shakes his head. “I could never be mad at you for wanting to work on yourself. I think it’ll be really helpful for you. Have you found someone yet?”

“No. I wanted to run it past you before looking.”

His heart cracks a bit but he tries not to let it show on his face. “You never have to do that, okay? You’re your own person, baby, and I have no right to tell you what to do with your life. Alright?”

It’s a strange way to look at life after having every decision of her life planned out for her since birth. She’s still adjusting — that much is obvious, but it isn’t her fault, and Harry works regularly to help her realize that in small doses.

“Would you maybe help me find a person?” Y/N peeps out, playing with his fingers in her lap. Her eyes are set on their hands, still too nervous to look at him face-to-face. Harry, though he has no experience looking for therapists himself, still nods enthusiastically, willing to help her take whatever steps she needs.

“Why don’t you grab your laptop?” he suggests. She reaches forward to pull it off the coffee table before Harry wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side. She makes a soft ah!, surprised by his sudden movements, which of course results in a small, snarky smile on his end.

Shuffling so the laptop is in his lap now, he opens it, has her put her password in, and searches up “therapists near me.” His eyes float to the nervous girl beside him, who’s taken up gnawing on her fingernails as he clicks on the first result. It’s a directory of mental health professionals close to them where you can filter by specialities, insurance, and other preferences.

“Okay, dovie,” he croons gently, “What are you looking for in particular? Someone to help with stress?”

She shrugs. “Um, maybe something a bit more. Maybe… anxiety? A-and family stuff?”

“That’s a good starting point,” he encourages, clicking on the appropriate filters. Immediately, a number of therapists that originally showed up disappear, but it still leaves them with a decent amount to scroll through. “Anything else? Do you have a preference on gender or how far they are from us?”

“I think I want a woman,” she says before glancing up at him with worried eyes, “Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.”

He clicks the “female” preference, resulting in around 15 options for them to look at. She continues biting her nail as Harry scrolls down. He periodically hovers over someone, asking her if she’d like to look at them more. She’ll either nod or shake her head, but in the event of the former, he’ll open their profile in a separate tab.

Eventually, they narrow it down to three but one isn’t actively taking new clients, so it’s between Leanna, who looks to be around Harry’s mom’s age and is located 20 minutes from Y/N’s apartment, and Madeline, a younger woman with experience in a myriad of mental health concerns.

Quietly, Y/N alternates between the two tabs, contemplating and comparing their experiences. He can tell that she’s having difficulty picking, but he doesn’t want to say anything to sway her in one direction over the other — he wants this to fully be her choice.

“I think I like Madeline.” she says, looking up at her boyfriend. Her eyes are slightly rounded, lips parted as if she’s waiting for approval from Harry.

“Sounds like a good choice, dove. How’d you settle on her?”

Y/N shrugs her shoulders, scrolling down on her profile page. “Well, she has experience with anxiety, depression, and trauma… and I’ve been reading a bit online, and I think I do have some trauma from my parents, so…”

Harry nods, smoothing her hair comfortingly.

“And I like that she seems like she’s closer in age to us… it might make me feel more comfortable, like I’m talking to a friend,” she explains. He hums in agreement. “She also has a cat at her office, which I really like, too.”

He chuckles and leans over to nose at her hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

“I think those are all great reasons,” he murmurs.

He won’t admit it tonight because he doesn’t want her to get too nervous, especially if she ultimately decides she’s too scared to go, but he’s infinitely proud of her right now. He’s contemplated bringing up therapy to her for the past few months, particularly right after he helped her move out of her parents’ home.

The fact that she came to that decision herself is enough for him to feel over the moon, his chest swelling with pride. Even if she backs out at the last minute, at the very least, he knows she’s trying her best, and that’s all he could ever ask of her.

“Why don’t you email her and send your information?” Harry suggests lightly, breaking Y/N out of her own trance of thinking. With a swallow, she nods, clicking on the little mail symbol next to Madeline’s name.

He watches as she composes an email, her fingers stuttering over the keys every few minutes. He can tell that she’s over-thinking on what to say, but she eventually settles on a short, to-the-point message: Hi Madeline, my name is Y/N and I was interested in seeing you for therapy. Are you taking on new clients at the moment?

“Great,” Harry blurts out once she presses ‘send’. She looks up at him. “You did great.” he amends, a light blush flowering over his cheeks.

All she does is smile and bury herself into his chest.

. . .

“Here, why don’t you wear this to your appointment?”

Y/N thinks that Harry may be even more nervous for her first therapy session than she is.

Although she’s busying around her apartment, getting her things together in preparation for her 11 am appointment, Harry’s movements are just as jerky and anxious. She’s currently looking for her favorite comfy sweatshirt when he suddenly peels off the fuzzy cardigan he’s wearing, handing it to her. It’s the one he bought on sale at Urban Outfitters a few weeks back when they had some time off from work and school. They’d been traipsing through the shops nearby with no intention of actually buying something, but Harry had said that he liked how it felt like a teddy bear.

“Oh, but you’re already wearing that,” Y/N says with a pout, shaking her head. “It’s okay, I’ll find something else—”

“No, I want you to wear it,” he insists. “Maybe it’ll help make you feel more comfortable? Having something of mine?”

She blinks, slowly reaching out to accept it from his grasp. “What will you wear though?”

“I think I’ve left a few sweatshirts here,” he says, popping up from his seat on the edge of her bed. “Don’t you have that little drawer with all my stuff?”

She nods. It hadn’t really been an intentional thing, but when she told Lucy about it, she explained to her that it was kind of a big deal. Apparently, having a drawer at your significant other’s apartment meant that you were moving in the direction of living together, but Y/N didn’t see it that way. It was more for the sake of convenience, especially if Harry came over after work and decided to stay over instead of heading back to his place.

She walks over to her dresser and yanks open the top drawer. It’s filled to the brim with tee-shirts, sweatshirts, and two pairs of sweatpants, all of which belong to Harry. She glances over at him, embarrassed, and he laughs.

“Geez, dovie, think you’re a bit obsessed with me,” he teases, grabbing one of the hoodies. She rolls her eyes.

“You’re the one that leaves this stuff here all the time!”

“Yeah, but it looks like you’re building some kind of shrine—”

“Oh, shush!” she says, pulling his cardigan on. She’ll admit, the fabric is heavenly, and the fact that it smells like Harry is a massive added bonus. “Are you still fine to drive me?”

He nods quickly once he has his sweatshirt on, grabbing his car keys. “Ready when you are, baby.”

He makes her take a granola bar and a water bottle on her way out, both of them bidding Lucy a goodbye when they exit the apartment. Y/N has a bad habit of not wanting to eat when she’s nervous, but Harry can guarantee that her stomach will start rumbling as soon as she’s done with today’s session.

They climb into the familiarity of Harry’s car, Y/N taking her usual seat on the passenger’s side. She hasn’t driven much since cutting off communication with her parents. Obviously, she left the car they bought her, and she doesn’t have enough money in her savings to buy another one, even if it’s used or a lease.

Since she didn’t get the job at the bookstore, she’s been looking for other part-time opportunities on campus but nothing’s come up yet. Harry offered to get her some work at the shop, but she felt too weird about having her boyfriend pay her for silly tasks like cleaning up and scheduling appointments.

Madeline’s office isn’t too far away, and Harry took the morning off to take her. He said — quote — “I’m clearing my schedule, dovie — no appointments, meetings, and certainly no drug deals!”. (That had made Y/N snort over the Chinese food they shared for dinner a few nights ago.)

The drive is mainly quiet, save for Harry’s quiet music playing in the background. She’s nervous and fidgety in her seat so he reaches over to intertwine their fingers together, giving her hand a small squeeze in her lap. It makes her feel a little bit better, but she wishes Harry could go to her appointment with her.

When they arrive, Harry pulls into a parking space just outside the door. They have 10 minutes before her session officially starts, but Madeline had asked if she could get there a bit early to fill out some paperwork.

“Feel okay?” Harry asks, pushing his sunglasses up to his hair. She nods, even though her heart is hammering in her ribs. “You’re gonna do great, dovie. I’ll be here as soon as you’re done.”

“Okay,” she breathes, watching as the clock ticks one minute closer to 11. She swallows harshly and unbuckles her seatbelt, grabbing her bag from the floor of Harry’s car. “I'll be done by 11:45, right?”

“11:45, baby. I’ll be right here.”

“Okay. Alright.”

He leans over to smear a quick kiss to her cheek and she smiles gently, though it doesn’t completely reach her eyes. She gets out of the car and straightens her posture, pulling Harry's cardigan tighter over her form, and winds around the front to walk in the direction of the front door.

It’s only then that Harry rolls down his window, despite the wet, dewy chill of the morning.

“Wait, Y/N!”

She turns around, an expression of confusion painting her features.

“I’m so proud of you!” he exclaims. He can see her blush from his spot in the car, a wide, toothy grin appearing on her face. “I’m so proud of you, and I love you so much.”

She mouths it back — I love you too — this time with a smile that lights up her entire face. She waves her fingers with one more goodbye before taking a deep breath and walking into the office building.

Harry can’t stop grinning to himself.

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aliceinborderlandscrolls · 1 year

Text

How To Make A Cheshire Blush

Chishiya Shuntarō x reader

You make it your goal to see Chishiya blush

Fluff - Suggestive

I have known Chishiya Shuntarō for a little over eight months since entering the borderland. In that time I have never seen him flustered… Ever.

How is that even possible? What man could be so calm and collected that nothing makes his cheeks flush the color of strawberries? Not even when facing death does his calmness fade…

I glanced over at Chishiya who was watched the group we teamed up with mild amusement as they betrayed each other one by one. How can they all be so foolish? If only they would put their fears aside and trust one another. Maybe then we could all make it out alive and find out who the Jack of Hearts really is. This entire game was so tiresome. I sighed loudly, earning a glance from Choshiya before he returned his gaze to a man sweating profusely as he told another player their suit.

“We’ve been here for days and it’s so…” I folded my arms on the table, “Boring.” I sighed again as my shoulders slumped.

“Find something to do.” Chishiya had zero interest in my boredom and did nothing to try and entertain me.

It wasn’t his problem nor benefit him, so why should he care?

My attention found its way to the pair, Aba and Kotoko. It seemed that they have been attached to the hip quite literally since the start of the game. Studying them closely, they reminded me of a business looking man and his personal assistant.

I chuckled at the thought of all the drama and scandal they might have caused in the old world, especially if he was high up there. I watched as Kotoko pressed herself even more into Aba’s side while he looked as if he held all the power. For a moment I wondered what it would be like to be just like her. To be someone who didn’t rely solely on herself.

I suppose in a way I have some trust to Chishiya, I considered him my friend. He did treat me as a friend though. I also considered Kuina a friend and I knew she thought the same about me. My mind briefly drifted to her and I hoped that she was doing okay, alive somewhere right now.

My thoughts drifted back to Chishiya. He was cool and highly intelligent, not to mention drop dead gorgeous, but something I wonder if he would sacrifice me for his gain.

“I wonder what that feels like.” I muttered as I placed my chin in the palm of my hand.

“What?” Chishiya took a bite from his own bag of cookies as his attention flicked over to where I was looking, “To be a self righteous prick?”

“No.” I shook my head leaning on my chin, “To rely so heavily on someone to protect you that you don’t learn how to protect yourself.”

“You wouldn’t make it very far with that mentality.” Chishiya muttered, “Luckily, you’re too smart for that.”

I grinned at the small compliment from the Cheshire man. It was rare to hear praise from him even if it was usually mixed with mockery. It was in that moment that my innocent grin turned sly as I thought of the perfect thing that could keep my boredom at bay.

His brows furrowed at my smile, “Quit looking at me like that, it’s weird.”

“What if the only person I knew to keep me safe was you?” My grin turned into a smirk.

“But it isn’t?” His answer came out more of a question as he tried to figure out my plan.

“But what if?” I leaned my weight onto his side, wrapping my arms around one of his, “Would you take advantage of my undying loyalty, Shuntarō?” I could see a blush coat his cheeks and I couldn’t help, but laugh, “Of course you would, you sneaky cat.”

He nudged me off him with a grunt. I leaned closer to make sure I was seeing this right… The Chishiya Shuntarō was in fact, blushing.

“Oh my stars.” I gasped in amusement as I pressed a hand to my heart, “Is that a blush I see, Chishi?”

I did it! I thought as excitement built up inside me. I made him blush!

“No.” He looked away from me.

“I think it is.” I poked his cheek, giggling as I sat back.

My giggling died down as I looked at him. He didn’t say anything, but he seemed flustered. Is it possible that he held some kind of feelings for me?

“Chishi.” I smiled when he looked at me, “You want some?” I held up my strawberry cake roll.

He eyed me and it suspiciously before he gave a simple nod. I opened the package, breaking off a piece for him to try. I shook my head as he reached for it as I brought it up to his lips. He opened his mouth slowly as he took a bite.

“So would that make you a self righteous prick?” I teased quietly as I fed the cake to him.

He rolled his eyes and he leaned back, taking time to chew and see if he liked the cake.

“Way too much strawberry.” He mumbled after he swallowed, but continued to eat the next piece I gave him.

He returned the gesture with his own bag of cookies as we munched on the others snacks.

“I am an asshole.” He spoke without hesitation, “I am not kind. I am manipulative and I do what I must to get ahead. I don’t care about anything so why are you always hanging around me?”

“You are those things, but I think you’re wrong about how you see yourself Chishiya. You are so much more than that. You are kind, to Kuina and to me. You are manipulative, but that just means how intelligent you are in understanding everything. You can solve the hardest puzzle on earth with just a glance. You say you don’t care, but deep down I know that you do. You have just built a wall that is worth climbing because you mean more than anything in the world to me.” I answered softly.

He wasn’t able to respond as the speaker dinged.

“I believe it’s almost time.” I sighed as I looked up at the clock.

My attention turned to Kotoko who grabbed a packet of cookies… The same brand that Matsushita grabbed a few minutes ago.

“Hm…” I hummed watching what would be a meaningless passerby between the two, “Maybe I do have more undying loyalty than Kotoko.”

“Seems so.” Chishiya smirked.

I turned in my seat, brushing my hair away from my collar.

“Heart.” He said and turned so that I could tell him his suit.

“Diamond.” I repeated the symbol I saw.

“Fits us well.” He muttered standing up to begin our journey to our cells.

“Aw does that mean I have your heart Chishi?” I stepped up to him teasingly.

“You have my headache.” He stated before walking into his cell.

I entered the one beside him with a warm feeling creeping in my chest. I think it’s the other way around, I think you have my heart Shuntarō.

“Heart.” I spoke my final answer as I waited to leave the cell.

#alice in borderland #aib #alice in boderland x reader #aib headcanons #aib spoilers #aib season 2 #aib x reader #chishiya fic #chishiya imagine #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya headcanons #aib chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x reader #chishiya fluff #aib s2 #aib x you #aib imagines #aib fanfic

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

Note

hello.

Could you make a Damian x reader request?

Some hurt/comfort and fluff?

Idk if this is what you were after, hope it was but I can never be too sure.

‘Do I annoy you?’ You asked one day as you were hanging out in Damian’s room.

‘Why do you ask?’ Damian replied, having stopped what he was doing to give you his undivided attention.

‘Just…just answer the question. Please.’ You sighed as your anxieties began to worsened the longer Damian avoided the question.

You didn’t want what they said to be true.

‘Not until you’ve answered mine first.’ Damian said stubbornly, unwilling to let go of the feeling that something was wrong and was trying to find out what exactly by closely examining your face. You sighed again and looked up from the floor for the first time since coming over. ‘I ask because I overheard something that hadn’t sat right with me since.’ You glanced over at Damian, only to see that he was waiting for you to continue.

‘They said that you only tolerate me, that I’m just someone you felt sorry for me and took pity on.’ You continued, looking back down at the floor again as you began to pick at your cuticles, a self damaging habit that Damian had made continuous effort to stop.

‘Who said that.’ Damian said.

‘What-‘ you tried to ask before getting cut off.

‘Who said that.’ Damian repeated, his face was borderline unreadable as he then stood up from his desk, walked over to where you were before sitting down next to you. ‘Tell me.’ He adds when you didn’t say anything after a while, he wanted to do something but couldn’t if he didn’t know who to aim his anger towards.

‘Just some people at school. I’m probably overthinking it though,’ you began to backtrack out of fear that they were right and words were just starting to flow out at this point. ‘They could’ve been talking about anyone in general but-‘

‘You don’t have to defend them.’ Damian interrupts you once again, hating the fact that some idiots managed to get inside your head, and plant seeds of doubt within your head about the legitimacy of your friendship. ‘And for clarification you aren’t an annoyance, nor someone I just so happened to take pity on one day, you’re my friend and a loyal one at that.’ He says as he watched every emotion flashes cross your face.

‘All they speak are lies and falsehoods y/n. I promise you that I will get back at them tenfold.’ Vows Damian as he rests a hand on your shoulder but he could quickly tell that it wasn’t his word what you wanted. No, you wanted more then just his word as words tend to fail in moments where actions excel.

‘What if I don’t want your word Damian.’ You said as you looked at him with doubtful eyes. ‘What if I want you to prove it, to prove that they were lying about everything.’ Damian hums, his face became one of deep thought before the perfect idea came to him as he was quick to his feet, offering out his hand to you. ‘Then let me start proving them wrong by taking you to the barn. There’s someone I’ve been meaning to introduce to you for a while now but just haven’t quite felt that the right moment has occurred,’ Damian says as he pulled you to your feet the moment you reached out and grabbed his hand, ‘until now.’

‘Who?’ You questioned. You’ve already meet Jerry the turkey, BatCow, Titus, Alfred the cat and Ace, who could you have possibly not met yet that Damian had saved for this very moment?

‘Goliath.’ Was his reply and by that alone you knew you were in for something beyond special as you willingly allowed Damian to pull you through the Manor, a small smile came across your face as you let Damian fill you in about this Goliath figure; happy that Damian was staring to let you in finally.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc fanfiction #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagines #damian wayne fluff

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bambheez · 1 year

Text

nonsense (s.jy)

SUMMARY: you overhear your best friend and roommate jake talking about his massive dick, so you decide you want to see it for yourself. PAIRING: bestfriend/roommate!jake x reader (afab) GENRE: smut (minors dni) WARNINGS: sub!jake, dom!reader, oral sex (m. receiving), size kink, reader is very VERY straightforward, jake has a huge dick, profanity WORD COUNT: 1.5k A/N: this is literally just pure filth. inspired by this post and ofc ‘nonsense’ by sabrina carpenter. as always, if you enjoyed/have feedback, please reblog/comment or send an ask. my inbox is always open!

“Small dick? Seriously? You know I’m—” he paused, remembering you were in the room with him. He turned around to see you laying on his bed, legs up in the air, eyes trained on your laptop screen.

Your ears perked up at the odd conversation; your earbuds were no longer playing any music, but you gave him no impression that you were eavesdropping.

“Know what, Jake? Cat got your tongue?” Heeseung snickered through his headphones, Jay following with a similar comment.

“Nah, Y/N’s in my room but she’s got her headphones in,” he lowered his voice to a whisper. “You know I’m bigger than both of you motherfuckers.”

Your lips lifted into a smirk at his confession. You could hear laughter booming from Jake’s headphones as you quietly put your earbuds away and moved off the bed toward him.

“How big?” you whispered against his ear.

He jolted in his seat, wincing from banging his toe into the leg of his desk.

“How big?” you repeated, now standing in front of him, blocking his view of the game. You lifted up your shirt to reveal your stomach. “Would it reach here,” you asked, pointing to a spot above your pubic bone. “Or here,” moving your finger up an inch. “Maybe here?” you circled around your belly button.

Jake visibly reddened, even under the faint green lights of his PC. His fingertips—currently resting against his keyboard—jerked back into motion at the realization that Heeseung and Jay were still on the call.

“Sorry, someone’s at the door,” he mumbled into his mic. “You guys play without me, I’ll hop on later.” He closed out of the game and Discord tab before taking his headphones off.

His fingers were fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, eyes—avoiding contact with yours—staring straight ahead at his desktop wallpaper.

“You didn’t answer my question, Jake.”

“Stop talking nonsense, Y/N,” he turned to look up at you, your body now leaning against his desk. “Why do you even want to know?” his adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped.

“So you were lying then?”

“No, but—”

“Then show me.”

Jake could feel himself hardening in his sweatpants. As much as he tried to ignore the ache between his thighs and tell you you were insane, the look you gave him—utterly earnest, like you wanted to devour him—made his insides stir.

You dropped to your knees with a thump, rolling his gaming chair out by its arms to face you. A groan ripped from Jake’s throat at the sight. You sat back on your heels to observe his reaction, his lids hooded and lips slightly parted. He nodded at you, watching as you glanced from his growing bulge back up to his eyes.

The imprint of his cock was visible, and your fingers flitted over him, traveling from his thighs up to the strings of his sweats.

He let out short, quick breaths before whimpering “please”.

You held back a giggle. When had he become so needy?

Pulling off his sweats and boxers in one swift motion, his cock slapped against his lower stomach. “Wow,” your mouth watered at the sheer size. And he wasn’t even fully hard yet.

His breath hitched in response, body squirming in your hold. Jumbled thoughts were running through his head at a hundred miles per hour. This was his roommate turned best friend on her knees, ogling at his erection.

You had thought about the size of his cock before, especially when he was lounging around in gray sweats. You’d caught glimpses of his bulge, and the size of it even when he was soft was enough to make your core throb in anticipation. You had thought about how his cock looked, too, and what you saw in front of you now exceeded your expectations in every way. His tip was red and flushed against his abdomen, a lengthy vein ran from his base to tip, and beads of precum were beginning to form at his slit.

You hesitantly wrapped both hands around the base of his cock. “Fuck,” you muttered. Two hands and barely half of his cock was covered.

He felt scorchingly hot under your touch. You squeezed at his base before devouring as much as you could of him in your mouth.

He cried out from above you, hands gripping the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white. You could feel your underwear sticking to your folds as you tried to discreetly rock back and forth against your heels, desperate for some friction of your own.

You were bobbing up and down on the top half of his cock, tongue swirling around his tip and occasionally digging into his slit. Jake wanted so badly to keep his eyes open, to see the way you peered up at him through your lashes, but he could feel every inch of movement of your tongue running along his veins that the pleasure was much too intense.

Strings of curses flew from his mouth, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You’re doing s-so well,” he whined before gently placing a hand on the back of your head.

I can do even better, you thought to yourself as you slowly removed your hands from his base and took him into your throat.

“Ah, oh f-fuck!” he moaned. You hollowed your cheeks, placing your hands on his hips to steady yourself.

Jake resisted the urge to start thrusting into your mouth, largely due to his disbelief that you could take him all the way.

You gagged around his length and he nearly choked on his breath from the sensation. Working your way down even farther, his tip hit the back of your throat while you moved your hands to knead at his thighs.

You pulled off of him to catch your breath, eyes twinkling up at him as a string of saliva stretched between his tip and your lips.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he croaked out, throat remarkably dry.

You gave him a small smile. Just you wait.

You took a deep breath before bringing your hands to the back of his hips, slamming his cock down your throat in one go. You repeatedly swallowed around his girth and Jake’s entire body convulsed under you, noises he didn’t know he was capable of making falling from his lips.

You buried the tip of your nose in his pelvis; your head was foggy, throat sore, and eyes watering, but the sight of Jake losing complete control under you made it worth it.

“I-I’m gonna—mmph,” he whined, bunching your hair in a fist.

You could see his abdomen clenching and feel his thighs twitching, signaling that he would cum any second. Jake opened his eyes to peer down at you and he had to physically grab your bobbing head to stop himself from cumming.

The view in front of him was the most sinful yet beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Your lips were slick and swollen, saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth down to your chin. Your hair was in a tangled mess from his grip, and there were tear streaks from your eyes down to your neck.

He brushed your hair out of your face and you smiled, humming around his cock. You sped up your pace before wrapping your arms around his hips again, sucking and swallowing around him as if your life depended on it.

“Oh shit, oh f-fuck, I’m cumming, Y/N I’m—”

You pushed your nose forward and took him to the hilt one last time before he was cumming with a shout of your name on his lips. Spurts of his warm release traveled down your throat, and Jake finally grabbed at your head with both hands, bucking his hips up and fucking your face as he chased his high.

Shockwaves of ecstasy traveled through Jake’s every vein and artery. You swallowed drop after drop of him until his thrashing and jerking under you slowed to a stop. His cock twitched in your mouth one final time, beginning to soften, when he pulled you off of him with a pop.

“Oh my god, Y/N,” Jake moaned like you’ve never heard a man moan before.

“Such a big, pretty cock”, you gave his tip a quick peck before tucking him back into his sweats. “But it’s a shame you don’t know how to use it”, you chuckled.

He whined at the comment, his finger reaching up to the corner of your lips, swiping at the residue of his release. He thought about your question from earlier, picturing reaching your cervix and filling you to the brim with his cum.

“Please, teach me?” he begged.

read part 2 here

#jake sim #jake smut #enhypen smut #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun smut #jake hard hours #enhypen hard hours #jake sim imagine #jake imagine #jake sim smut #enhypen jake #jake headcanon #enhypen headcanon #sub!jake #jake x reader #jake scenarios

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thef1diary · 3 months

Text

Little Big Fan | Twelve

— Little Big Relationships

Series Masterlist

wc: 2.1k

"Max? Isabella?" You called out as you entered your home, hearing nothing but silence in return.

As you continued walking inside, you heard some giggles coming from Isabella's room that were muffled because the door was closed.

Knocking once, you opened the door and were faced with an intriguing scene. They were sitting on a kiddy table, which was the perfect size for Isabella but too little for Max; however, he compromised by sitting half on the chair and half kneeling on the floor.

"Hold it like this, Maxy, your pinky has to point out," Isabella instructed while demonstrating it herself. You slapped your palm over your mouth to muffle a chuckle when you noticed the little teacups in their hands as Isabella attempted to teach Max how to act at a tea party.

"C'mon Maxy, stick your pinky out," you joked, instantly catching their attention. Isabella beamed at you, "mama, look," she gestured to the little setup they had going on. Max, however, froze in place but after a moment a small smile grew on his face as he purposely pointed his pinky outwards with an exaggerated motion.

"Join us, mama," Isabella suggested or more so instructed. You obliged, pulling the little chair closer to your daughter and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before taking the teacup she held out for you.

"Did you know that Maxy has two cats, mama?" Isabella asked, a glimmer shining in her eyes at her words. Your daughter had always wanted a cat, but because the responsibility would be too much for her, you always refused or advised her to at least wait until she was older.

Nodding along, you looked at Max who had showed you many pictures of Jimmy and Sassy. "Yeah, when we go over to Max's house, we can see them okay?" You proposed, and Isabella glanced at Max for an answer, to which he replied, "Of course!"

While Isabella poured more pretend tea in your cup, your gaze met Max's, filled with a tad bit of vulnerability that neither of you no longer feared to share.

Max has spent the majority of his time in Monaco, or at least he used to, because he has been spending more time with you and Isabella in your home that he would normally spend in his apartment across the world. He'd rather have you than an empty apartment with no hesitation. But lately, he's been picturing his apartment filled with the sounds of your daughter's laughter as the three of you make a mess in the kitchen while attempting to bake.

He wasn't opposed to it at all, and a part of him knew that you would love the suggestion as well. However, your relationship with him is kept under wraps, with the only person you've told is your best friend. You don't necessarily want to keep it a secret, but the reason you are is quite obvious; your daughter.

Although Isabella has suspicions of Max's involvement in your day to day lives, she hasn't openly questioned it yet. The reality is, you don't know how to tell her you're in a relationship with Max since you're not sure how she'll react. A part of you believes it will elicit a positive response, but another half wonders if she would object to it.

You pushed your thoughts away to the back of your mind once Max broke eye contact with you since your daughter nudged him. Gesturing for him to come closer, Isabella whispered in his ear and you watched with a slight tilt of your head and a smile threatening to grow on your face.

Max nodded to her words, and Isabella looked at you with a smile she only uses when she wants something. "Mama?" she started.

"Yes, angel?" She glanced at Max for reassurance and when he nodded again, she spoke, "can Maxy stay over?"

You were taken aback by her words, especially with the thoughts that were running through your mind. "You mean a sleepover?"

Isabella nodded, "yes! We'll have so much fun, mama. We can play games, eat snacks, oh and I want Maxy to read my bedtime story to me too." You smiled as she listed out everything she wanted to do, knowing that she had already planned it earlier so it would be easier to convince you. However, she had no idea that you weren't opposed to the idea at all and needed no such convincing.

She looked at you with anticipation, her smile only growing wider when you nodded. "We can have a sleepover with Max."

She cheered, throwing her arms up and then wrapping them around Max. "Oh wait, I forgot something," she left the room in a hurry, leaving you and Max in confusion.

Max took that opportunity to lean over the table and press a kiss to your cheek. You threaded your fingers through his hair, resting it on the back of his head to pull him in for a proper kiss.

"How did it go?" He asked once he leaned back into the chair, almost falling backwards due to his weight. "I think I made a friend."

After your nap with Max yesterday, you awoke to a text from Emma asking if you wanted to meet for coffee. You decided to go after discussing with Max regarding the pros and cons of what could happen. The only drawback was that Emma was Tyler's girlfriend; otherwise, you wouldn't have any doubts about meeting her.

However, your decision to go meant you would have to leave Isabella in Max's care for a few hours. The only issue you faced was that if you didn't want your ex's partner to babysit your daughter, you shouldn't let your own boyfriend babysit Isabella either. It would be unfair to both of them.

Max, being Max, went right to Isabella and asked if she was comfortable with staying with him for a few hours, which she easily agreed to. He then gave you a smile that only meant one thing, "problem solved."

—

"The last time we met wasn't under the right circumstances, so I figured we should redo it," Emma stated as you sat down with your coffee at one of the few empty tables amid the many occupied ones.

"I agree. Also, I don't think I'll be able to thank you enough for what you did for my daughter that night." Emma shook her head, "no worries, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat," she said before adding, "not that I want her to have another allergic reaction."

The initial awkwardness of this friendly meeting stemmed from the individual who was the reason for the introduction between you two. However, the conversation evolved significantly after that.

"Oh, I have to ask, that guy you with at the hospital, are you dating him?" Emma asked, and you nodded. "We actually weren't dating then, but we are now."

She nodded along and just smiled while looking at you. Tilting your head, you asked, "why?"

"Nothing, it's just that it looked like you were together then, based on his actions and how worried he was for both you and Isabella," she explained, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks. Max was always kind to you from the minute you met him, but learning that someone else had observed your relationship was slightly surprising.

"It's still new, I guess we're just figuring it out as we go, especially with Isabella around," you admitted openly, seeing no reason to hold back from her. You were cautious about Emma before seeing her today, but you realized there was no reason to be. She would easily become a good friend, and the fact that you knew her through Tyler would no longer matter.

"She doesn't know?" Emma inquired and hummed when you shook your head. "I don't mean to intrude, but how did you and Tyler tell her?" You asked, wanting some pointers on what to do, or even what you shouldn't do.

She scoffs, "it was probably the worst way ever, just casually dropping it in a conversation, good riddance though."

You had to hold back from wincing however you don't think you did a good job based on her reaction. "Yeah, it was odd, don't do that."

"Good riddance?" You asked, unsure of what she meant. "I broke up with him," she stated bluntly, taking you aback. "Oh." For a moment you were speechless, mainly to gauge Emma's reaction on the situation before you decide on saying anything.

She sighed, "you don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing, it was a long time coming."

You wanted to know more details, not because he was your ex and now hers too, but because Emma was now a friend. Without having to utter a word, she began to explain the reason.

"I was skeptical about dating him at first when he told me about Isabella, because I initially thought that his time and attention would be split between us," she started, and you nodded along.

"But, I didn't think that he wouldn't give either of us any time at all. He wasn't always like that, I wouldn't have fallen for him otherwise but he became too consumed in work."

"Arguments were inevitable, but I didn't think it would happen that often. Sometimes I would find Isabella sitting in her room with her eyes closed and hands covering her ears because of his words. That's when I realized that he wasn't worth my love and time, or even his daughter's," she finished and your heart hurt with the image of how Isabella used to spend so many of her days and nights at Tyler's house.

"I hope Isabella doesn't stay over at his anymore," Emma stated, but you quickly shook your head. "No, she hasn't stayed over after the allergy incident, plus she's said it herself that she doesn't want to anymore."

"Anyways, he is your ex for a reason and now he's also my ex, so here's to finding better men who are worth our time," Emma proposed, holding up her half empty coffee cup as if it were an alcoholic drink and you chuckled while agreeing with her.

"I think I already found mine," you shyly admitted. "And I am very happy for you!"

"I just don't know how to tell Bella about it," you stated, and she held up a finger to tell you to hold on as she quickly sipped on her drink. "Does he come around often?" Emma asked.

“Very often,” you chuckled. “And does she like having him around?” You thought about it for a second, recalling the latest moments you've shared together. "She does get very excited about it, never complained about having him around."

"Then you have nothing to worry about, as long as you sit down and explain it to her, I think she'll be fine. After all, she is your daughter, very kind and understanding," Emma concluded.

—

“So you want to tell Isabella?” Max asked after you gave him a summary of your conversations with Emma. You shrugged, “what do you think?”

“I’m okay with anything you choose to do, baby, we can wait or we can tell her now,” he stated. “I don’t want her to find out from someone else, especially since we’re going to the next race,” you reasoned.

Max’s eyes lit up, “you’re coming?” Chuckling, you nodded, “my boyfriend’s racing, I think I should be there to support him.”

Max didn’t hesitate to scoot his chair over towards you, “plus, there’s a chance that I might win my third championship at that race,” he added. Your jaw dropped, “what? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Well, I didn’t want it to pressure you into travelling if you didn’t want to but I’m very glad you’re going to be there with me,” he pressed a quick kiss against your lips. “Max, have I told you how sweet you are?”

He hummed, “I think I can hear it again.”

Before you could utter a word, Isabella entered the room again, this time with a frown on her face. Max leaned away from you, trying to subtly move back.

“Angel, where did you go?” You asked, and invited her to sit in your lap which she easily agreed to.

“I went to find my teddy, but I think I left it at daddy’s,” she meekly responded. “Aw, it’s okay, we’ll get him back soon,” you suggested while brushing her hair out of her face with your fingers.

“But Mr. Bear will miss my tea party, mama, and he never missed it before,” she stressed. “We can host as many tea parties as you want when we find him,” Max suggested.

Isabella still had a frown on her face but she agreed with a small nod.

You glanced at Max, and with his reassurance, you began an important conversation with your daughter that could possibly change the trajectory of your relationship with Max.

Taglist: @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo @samantha-chicago

#f1 fic #f1 fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #little big fan fic #f1 fluff #f1 imagines #f1 x reader

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alltoowelltom · 3 months

Note

Oscar piastri meeting the reader's pets for the first time? Like a cat or a dog and them being introuduced to each other 🥹😂

thank you for requesting x

Oscar had insisted on taking you out for dinner the night he arrived back in the UK after a few weeks away racing.

Three weeks wouldn’t seem extreme for most couples in the paddock, but your relationship was new enough that every day without seeing the other was almost painful, a grey cloud hovering over both your heads at the other’s absence.

Despite his exhaustion, Oscar had been almost giddy as he pulled up to the outside of your apartment building. He’d swallowed his excitement when he saw you waiting just outside the door, pulling a cardi over your dress and waving happily when you recognized his car.

Now, a few hours later and the excitement of being reunited was beginning to wear off. Being in your presence was now only calming for Oscar and he blinked heavily in the low light of the restaurant.

“..Oz?” you said gently, reaching out to touch his hand resting on the hardwood table.

“Hmh?” he started, furiously blinking. “I’m sorry,” he apologised sheepishly. “I love being here and talking to you…the jet lag is just catching up to me more than I thought it would.”

You laugh lightly, squeezing his hand.

“Don’t apologise, you must be shattered. Why don’t we get the check and I’ll drive you home?”

Oscar nods gratefully at your plan and rises from his seat. Despite his sleepy state he insists on paying for your meal, swiftly tapping his card on the machine before you can even get your wallet out of your bag. You kiss him on the cheek in thanks, then hold out your hand.

“Keys?”

Oscar hesitates.

“Baby,” he starts. “I trust you…but are you sure you want to drive my car?” he asks.

You roll your eyes, taking them from his hand and leading him to the sports car, gesturing for him to climb into the passenger side.

After a jerky start you get a feel for his car and begin to glide smoothly through the dark London streets.

“Uhm, I don’t actually know the way to your flat,” you say, glancing over and seeing Oscar napping quietly against the cold window. You smile softly at the sight, deciding you’ll have to take him back to yours, at least just so he can take a proper nap.

You lead him gently to the front door, telling him your plan. “Maybe we watch a movie or something? And you can nap.”

As you open the door to your own flat, Oscar perks up at the sound of a small bell tinkling down the hallway.

“What..?” he questions, before a slightly overweight, brown and white cat comes padding into the room. The two men look at each other quietly.

“Oscar, this is Cheese. Cheese, This is Oscar.” you introduce. Cheese seems uninterested at the guest but follows you both into the lounge as you collapse onto the couch. He jumps up on your right side, turning around a few times until he finds his perfect spot in the cushions, purring gently into your side. Oscar sinks down on your left, letting his head loll against your shoulder as you skim through Netflix, settling on a few episodes of Friends because you’re both too tired to deal with something unfamiliar. Within a few minutes Oscar’s laid a pillow over your lap, laying down and curling into your side.

“Is this okay?” he mumbles into your thigh and you nod, raking a hand through his soft hair.

“I like your cat..” he trails off, succumbing to his sleep before you can reply.

You lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder and pissing off the cat slightly with your movement.

“You guys will get along,” you whisper, neither directly to Oscar or Cheese. “You have a lot in common.”

#oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #formula 1 x y/n #formula one x reader #formula one smau #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #mclaren #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri smau

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luvt0kki · 5 months

Text

005 | the morning after

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

I can't stop and look the other way 'Cause I know what could be, babe And you never feel the same You'd be thinkin' 'bout it every day Don't believe in fairytales, but we got our fantasies

🎧: you right - Doja Cat

previous | 005| next

pairings: ot8 x f!reader

w.c : 8.4k ( sorry for any errors)

cw: mature, ,minors do not interact, nsfw, reader is afab, slow burn, polyamory, smut , peeping Tom! Wooyoung, masturbation, footjob, footsies, edging, some fluff ig, orgasm denial

REMINDER: my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n : CHAPTER 5! I FINALLY WROTE A VERSION OF CHAPTER 5 that I LIKE!!! Sorry for the long wait. I really hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. I AWAIT YOUR REACTIONS HEHEH. make sure to leave comments about your thoughts and reactions! You can do this in my askbox too huhu!

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE, OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

Seonghwa flinched at the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen. He couldn’t even sip his morning coffee at the clamor in the kitchen, the usual cozy peace he had before everyone else woke up was disrupted. Usually, the chef was quiet, gilding around the kitchen with ease as he made breakfast for the crew.

But today, he was…off.

Seonghwa placed his coffee mug back on the dining table before turning his gaze to the kitchen, seeing the cause of the noise appearing frustrated yet spaced out at the same time. Some kind of weird autopilot.

What was up with him?

Usually, the vice-captain would ask what’s wrong but Wooyoung’s knitted brows and expression of deep yet stressful contemplation made him believe it was best to just observe him and figure it out for himself. If Wooyoung was troubled, he knew that he could always come to any of them.

When the other members gathered except for you and Yeosang, they too quickly noticed the change in mood of their playful, energetic chef.

“What’s up with him?” Jongho asked, frowning as Wooyoung hissed when he held the skillet the wrong way. He’s never this reckless in his domain, his sacred kitchen.

Seonghwa only sighed in response, crossing his legs with poise and shaking his head.

Yunho, the gentle soul that he was still decided to check on Wooyoung, hopefully, his calm gleeful energy could make the younger member feel better.

“You okay there, Woo?” He called over from the table.

Not looking up from the pans on the stove, he responded, more like muttered his response. “M’fine.”

What a lie. He wasn’t fine they all could catch the vibe from him.

They all exchanged glances and kept their mouths shut, letting Wooyoung serve this morning's breakfast while the rest of them carried on as if nothing was wrong.

“Go on,” Wooyoung huffed, taking his seat at the table and picking up a fork. “Eat up.”

Was all he said to them and nothing more. He was quiet but he listened to their conversation, Mingi stared at him long wondering what exactly it was that was bothering him.

“Morning,” Yeosang’s deep voice chimed warmly. Wooyoung didn’t raise his head at his best friend’s voice and Hongjoong narrowed his eyes a little at his lack of interaction.

Right after his arrival, Jongho let out a low whistle as the last person to arrive at the dining table finally appeared.

“You look very pretty this morning, princess.” Jongho complimented, drinking in your delightful appearance. “That’s a new number I haven’t seen before.”

San glanced at Wooyoung sat beside him who was staring really hard into his bowl of fried rice.

“She looks good enough to eat,” Mingi tilted his head, getting a good look at his baby

“Thank Yeosang for the new set.” You giggled, sauntering in with a subtle sway of your hips, knowing your lovers were enjoying your morning look.

Wooyoung, unable to hold back from looking your way, took a small peek, the promise of this ‘new set’ tempting him too easily.

The moment he did, he wished he hadn’t.

You walked to his kitchen to get yourself a cup of coffee in a new silk slip with thin straps. Different from the night before. The hem of the dress was short, way above mid-thigh, and tastefully stopping before where your thigh and ass meet. It was lined with white lace lilies that complimented the periwinkle silk. The straps were thin and he remembered the way they fell off your shoulders last night. Flowing as you stride past them was a sheer white lace robe, draped over your shoulders and floating dreamily with your movements.

Like all the men on that table, they all watched you as you poured yourself a cup of coffee, admiring the teasing view of your backside.

“Thanks, Yeosang.” Mingi bit his lip, eying the curve of your ass covered by the pretty silk.

Wooyoung immediately looked away and continued to eat blankly as you joined the table, sitting across from him.

How lucky was he?

Mingi draped his arm on the back of your chair as if to mark his territory to Wooyoung, unaware that he had seen you and Yeosang fucking last night.

“You look very beautiful, dove.” Seonghwa smiled softly and you could see how his eyes were blown with desire as he took in your lingerie-clad body.

“She looks like a bride the morning after her honeymoon,” Yunho joked, eying your exposed collarbones and the lace that lined the low neckline of the silk dress.

“Don’t give Mingi any ideas,” Jongho tutted, taking a bite of his meal and looking around the table, stopping at San who looked at you intensely. “Hey, San, snap out of it. I’m going to beat all of you to it.” He challenged them with confidence.

“Shut the f—,” Mingi was about to cuss the youngest out in banter but Hongjoong cut him off.

“When did you get her that, Yeosang?”

“When we stopped at Jupiter. It’s from a boutique that creates lingerie pieces for noblewomen, and princesses and provides the finest silk for the Queen Mother’s dresses.”

Wooyoung gripped his fork tight. The silk was from his home planet? He knows of the boutique Yeosang talked about and he knew how that expensive fabric felt in his fingers. He wondered how it would feel if he had the chance to caress your curves and feel the silk that kissed your skin.

“I told Yeosang I don’t need such things but he insists on his gift.” You leaned your head against Mingi.

“His gift to you is my gift,” The gunner grinned, placing a hand on your bare thigh and creeping it up high and so dangerously close to your heat, his smirk only grew when you didn’t stop him. Before he could feel what he hoped was a matching pair of silk underwear, you tapped his hand away, the big man pouting his full lips.

“Behave.” You told him before feeling San’s gaze on you. Your heart melted at the longing look in his eyes, round and sparkling. You smiled softly at him and let the slipper on your right foot slip off before running it along San’s calves, his ears immediately turning pink as he looked at you wide-eyed.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you turned your attention to Wooyoung, who was very quiet.

“Morning, Woo.”

Wooyoung clenched his jaw. His name sounded even sweeter on your tongue today.

“Uh, morning.” He managed to say only giving you a quick glance and a smile which made you pout a little.

He couldn’t look you in the eye. Did he feel that guilty? About last night? Maybe you should confront him… like Yeosang said.

“Yeo?”

“Yes, my love?”

You raised your cheek from the warm chest it had rested upon. You had been listening to his heartbeat while he combed his fingers through your hair and petted you gently.

“Wooyoung…” you murmured softly, completely relaxed on top of him while his other hand traced the curve of your back.

“I just made love to you and you’re thinking of Wooyoung?” He jested, pinching your side.

“It’s not that…” you softly tapped his chest at his teasing. “He saw us.”

Yeosang was silent for a bit but was quick to reply with such nonchalance. “And?”

“He saw us.” You looked him in the eyes unable to stop the urge to trace your fingers along his pretty jaw. “He was touching himself to us.” The image of Wooyoung by the door, lips parted and panting quietly, his eyes hazy as he looked at you with such want, flashed before your mind.

“Oh? He was?” His tone was straight, unbothered by the fact.

“You never mentioned that he was a little pervert.”

“I thought your interaction in the club told you that already. He was coming onto you very strong. Bill after bill to see the heaven between your thighs.”

“Fair enough.” You chuckled, kissing the tip of his gorgeous nose. “He doesn’t know…doesn’t he?”

“Apparently not.” Yeosang kept his eyes on your face as if he was looking upon you for the very first time and was marveling at the beauty before him. “But he has picked up on the way we all look at you.”

“And what way is that?” You cupped his cheek, your thumb caressing his cheekbone while looking into his pretty bright eyes.

Yeosang sighed deeply with a smile that could win anyone's heart even the Gods perhaps. He wrapped his arms around you and you melted against him, your cheek pressed once more to his chest as he kissed your forehead. He didn’t have to say it for you to know.

“What do we do about Woo?” You murmured after a comfy pause.

“He’s very much attracted to you, my love. Wooyoung, despite his playful flirtatious nature and his very…colorful sexual escapades. He never ever pursues nor beds a woman who is taken. It’s a rule of his.” Yeosang explained, cuddling you, the soft sheets kissing your naked skin. “But if the woman lies that she isn’t taken, that’s not on him.”

You only hummed at the piece of information about his best friend. Wooyoung’s rule was fair enough.

“Since he was the son of a Duke, he had more freedom than I had. Whenever I’d visit, the young maids in the Jung manor changed with each return.”

You made a face, one that made the former Prince smile fondly. “It’s because he was…”

“Messing around with them, yes.” Yeosang chuckled at the memory. “One time, I had caught him in our palace grounds stables getting head from one of my mother’s handmaidens.”

“And were you some Casanova back in the day too?” You traced the line between his pecs.

“I’ve had my fair share of experiences in masquerades or in empty rooms at official balls. Nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious,” you rolled your eyes a little. “You’re only saying that because it’s what you think I might want to hear.”

“Oh darling,” he pouted his lips in jest before kissing your forehead, his hand never ceasing its caress on your naked back. “Are you jealous?”

Yeosang watched as your brows furrowed and your lips pursed. It was cute and he knew you were just going to try to deny it.

“Maybe….just a little.”

“I was jealous of you and San once.” He confessed, wanting to wipe away your anxiety masked by jealousy.

“W-what why?” You blinked up at him.

“Because you were each other’s firsts. Even though San confessed after you and Mingi got together. He was still your first. First hug. First kiss. Oh, and you’re very first.”

Your eyes widened and you immediately felt heat bloom in your cheeks. “San told you?” You murmured shyly, remembering that time. Both of you only had each other at that time and in that mission, you both believed you were going to die. Consumed with unspoken desire and love that was hidden from each other verbally, you two had gotten intimate, letting actions and your bodies express what you both felt.

“San has loved you the longest, my darling. It just took him a while and you and Mingi being together to finally get him to say it.”

Your heart felt full. It felt as if it was going to explode with all the emotions and love you had for them. “I love you, Yeosang.” You said softly, looking him in his angelic eyes. “I love all of you so very much.”

“Though all of us have our own ways of showing it, we love you too. I love you.”

You kissed his soft lips and he kissed you back, sealing the romantic moment you two shared. You giggled as you pulled away.

“Now back to our Wooyoung,” Yeosang thought of his best friend.

“Our?” You raised a brow.

“He wants you, darling.”

“Sure he wants me but he’s not mine nor am I his like I’m yours and you’re mine. He probably only wants to fuck.”

“And you’re not opposed to the idea?”

You paused, thinking of your answer even though you immediately wanted to say no, you just didn’t want to seem too eager. But you didn’t have to hide from Yeosang. Never had to.

“No, I’m not…” you sighed, feeling a little guilty as you thought about your lovers. All of them. “It’s not that all of you aren’t enough—

“I know darling,” he stopped you before you could worry and spiral. “We all have noticed the way Wooyoung acts around you. In fact, the night you returned and you and Mingi…retired for the evening, the rest of us stayed back to discuss Wooyoung when he went to bed. Assuming he did go to bed and didn’t watch you and Mingi have sex.”

You made a mental note to ask the peeping Tom if he did see you that first night before continuing to listen to Yeosang’s pretty voice.

“Wooyoung saw us and he doesn’t know that we are all your lovers.”

“God, he must think I’m cheating on Mingi or something.” You huffed, rolling off of Yeosang to lie on your back. "Or that I'm some whor-"

Yeosang shushed you shaking his head. It would hurt him deeply if that was the way you thought of yourself.

“You could either confront him and ask him what he wants from you.”

“Very straightforward,” You narrowed your eyes at him. “But your smile is telling me there is another option.”

“Or…”Yeosang grinned, propping himself to crawl on top of you, his dark locks of hair framing his handsome face. He slotted his hips between your legs as he leaned down to kiss along your collarbones while his hands caressed your sides, the silk beneath his palms smooth against your skin.“You can have some fun keeping him on his toes."

Pausing your little innocent footsie play with San, who frowned when you stopped, you decided to turn your attention to the man sitting across from you, next to your pouting lover.

Maybe giving him a hint and teasing him a bit would reassure him that you didn’t hate him or anything…and maybe push him to finally confront you or take action with his attraction for you.

“We’ll be arriving in Gevora by the morrow. As I’ve discussed with Y/N, one of the pieces of the Cromer, we’ve found out, is going to be auctioned.” Hongjoong was speaking to you as you raise your coffee cup to your lips while gliding your foot up Wooyoung’s calf. “It’s a highly private auction with wealthy attendees which also means it’s definitely—,”

“Illegal.” Jongho finished for the Captain, clicking his tongue as all of it made sense. “So what’s the plan?”

Wooyoung tensed visibly, his other leg jumping at your sudden touch, his knee banging against the underside of the table.

“You okay, Woo?” Jongho asked, raising a brow at the wide-eyed former noble.

Wooyoung finally met your gaze as they all stared at him. He was met with such a neutral expression from you as if you weren’t running your foot up his leg in a way that made shivers run down his spine and send heat straight to his groin.

“U-uh I’m fine…” he was trying to remain composed while he screamed in his head at what on earth you were doing. “Just lost in thought.” He played it off, earning a very subtle smile of approval from you as you sipped your coffee so casually.

“So what’s your plan, Captain?” You took the boys' attention from him, Hongjoong staring at you with a subtle glint in his eyes at how you effortlessly addressed him with a sultry tone.

“The good ol’ hit ‘em before they know it.” He replied, his eyes locked with yours as he knew that look you had in them all too well. That teasing yet magnetic gaze. You must be in a playful mood today. “San and Jongho will infiltrate the storage area while Y/N and Wooyoung will attend the auction to give San and Jongho enough time to retrieve it.”

“M-me?” Wooyoung stuttered, Hongjoong unaware of how your foot now brushed Woo’s inner thigh. The man in front of you swallowed the lump in his throat. What were you doing? He panicked.

“I’d send Yeosang but the attendees would know his face easily. So you’re Y/N’s lucky partner for the heist.”

“You don’t have to worry much, Woo. San and Jongho will have most of the action if things don’t go south. I’ll lead, and you,” you pressed your foot gently against Wooyoung’s hardening cock, fighting your smile at his somewhat pained yet turned-on expression. “Just follow.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, opting to give a nod of acknowledgment because if he had opened his mouth, he’d risk a very out of place sound at the breakfast table.

“Mingi will be monitoring the perimeter from the building across the venue. Ready to snipe should anyone intercept San or Jongho.”

Hongjoong went on but Wooyoung was struggling to focus. He could hear everything he was saying and he was taking note mentally of all the important details but the way your foot palmed at his painfully hard cock through his sweats was making his head spin. “Yunho will be driving the getaway van and Yeosang will bring his gear with him to hack into the security system in the van."

“And you and Hwa?” You leaned your head on Mingi’s shoulder, pressing just a little more, the perfect amount as you glide your foot against his cock. Wooyoung gripped the fabric of his sweats to ground himself. He tried to meet your eyes but you were conversing with everyone as if you weren’t giving him a fucking footjob between Yeosang and Mingi, and with San next to him.

“Hongjoong and I will take out two guards beforehand and take their uniform so that San and Jongho can easily get in.” Seonghwa answered you. “It should go pretty smoothly but we will act quickly should there be any…unexpected surprises.”

“I just hope I get to see you two in uniform,” you chuckled playfully, thinking of how lovely the sight would be. Despite the two eldest’s left behind military past, they have shared with you the official portraits of their time there. Strikingly handsome those two were. They even gave you the photographs for you to keep after they had noticed how long you stared at them in awe.

“Maybe you will,” Hongjoong smirked, winking at you playfully making you blush and laugh.

Wooyoung wondered how you were able to act like that... all effortless and pretty while you were rubbing his cock under the table. He was fighting back the urge to buck his hips into your foot for more friction. It felt good…so good. He could feel his precum dampening his boxers.

“Baby, eat something while you drink your coffee,” Mingi chided lightly, putting sweet buttered toast on your plate, berries and some cream.

You smiled at the care he was giving you, never ceasing the languid caress you were giving Wooyoung’s hard cock, and turned to Mingi. “Thank you, baby.” You tilted your chin up a little, the bigger man grinning before leaning down to peck you on the lips.

“Get a room.” Jongho fake gagged.

“Gladly,” Mingi smirked and deepened the kiss to irk the youngest even more.

Wooyoung’s cock throbbed at the sight of your plush lips against Mingi’s and the way they moved against his. You were the first to pull away, smiling so sweetly up at Mingi and pinching his cheek.

“I’ll start packing up my gear,” Yeosang announced to the group, taking his empty plate and getting up. He patted your head before discarding his plate in the sink.

“Me too.” Yunho chirped, doing the same as Yeosang.

“You guys can go ahead,” you told Hongjoong and Seonghwa who also were done with their breakfast. “Wooyoung and I will clear up.”

“Thank you, dove.” Seonghwa smiled, stacking his and Hongjoong’s plates before going about their personal schedules and preparation.

“You okay, Woo?” San suddenly asked.

“H-huh?” The man croaked out, his fist clenched tightly out of sight.

“You’re awfully quiet.” He frowned, his cat eyes trying to read his expression. “Are you in pain?”

Mingi and Jongho looked at Wooyoung worriedly while you had the audacity to pout your lips teasingly and bat your lashes at him, still rubbing his cock with your foot making the pressure in the base of his spine tightened further.

“Leg cramp.” Wooyoung shakily replied, forcing a smile. “I-I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so. This is why you should stretch after a workout. I told you ‘cool down’ is important.” San light-heartedly reprimanded, getting up and excusing himself from the breakfast table, leaving you, Woo, Mingi, and Jongho.

“What dress do you plan to wear to the bourgeois auction?” Jongho asked, sipping his coffee.

“I haven’t thought about that yet.” You hummed crossing your arms under your chest which pushed your breasts up and together, that teasing dip of cleavage along with the strokes you gave his cock, making Wooyoung’s head spin.

“How about the navy blue one?” Mingi suggested, playing with your hair as he took the last bites of his breakfast.

“That one’s too short, baby. Not very auction-y.”

“That one’s too flashy.” Jongho agreed. “It’s more of a night out dress. How about that red one?”

You glanced at Wooyoung and noticed how he was trying hard to steady his breaths in a way it was not noticeable by the other two men and you could see a vein in his neck beginning to pop out as his cock throbbed. His brows knitted together and his head was facing his lap, almost looking like he was in deep thought or trying to relax from the pain of his ‘leg cramp’.

He was close. He was so fucking close. Wooyoung hissed as he felt his climax near. All caution was ready to be thrown out the window as he reveled at your touch and the sight of you. Maybe he didn’t fucking care if he came in his boxers. How did Jongho and Mingi not even know what you were up to?

“Ohhh, that red one.” Your touch left him, the pleasure he had been feeling, that tightening sensation at the base of his spine as he got close to release, was ripped away from him.

“Fuck!” Wooyoung exclaimed, fist banging on the table making the two men look at him questioningly at his frustrated cry.

His head was thrown back at the ache of being denied climax. To the two men, it looked as if his leg cramp had gotten worse. Wooyoung leaned his elbows on the table, his hands gripping his hair as he breathed heavily. He looked through the thin curtain of his messy locks over to eyes to look at you. Your glossy lips were upturned slightly, almost tauntingly and your eyes glimmered with mischief, finding entertainment in his predicament.

“Dude, Wooyoung.” Jongho looked at him worriedly and a little confused. “You should get that leg cramp checked with Yunho if it’s that bad.”

“Yeah, we can’t have you pulling a muscle or getting cramps on the mission,” Mingi added. “You both can’t compromise your covers.”

Your legs returned to yourself and you crossed your left over your right. Will Wooyoung finally make a move after this? How far did you need to push him to finally have him confront you? How much self-control does he even have?

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Mingi. I know you two have some preparations to do for the mission. So go ahead, and I’ll clear up here while Wooyoung…rests.” You told the two men, smiling at them reassuringly.

“But I kinda do wanna get a room with you though,” Mingi murmured, eying you with desire. “Just a little y’know…quickie.”

“I thought you were back to baseline Mingi libido.”

“God.” Jongho groaned getting up and grabbing Mingi by the ear, completely unafraid of the much taller man. “You’re a fucking horn dog man. It may not seem like it outside but it’s 9 am in the fucking morning. Keep your wandering hands to yourself.”

Mingi’s eyes rounded in a childlike way, turning to you as Jongho was dragging him out of the kitchen.

“I’ll just clean up here and you'll have me soon enough.” You blew him a kiss, letting Jongho and his god-like strength pull him away.

You were amused they didn’t catch on…did they really buy the leg cramp?

Once they were out of earshot, you turned to Wooyoung.

He was slumped against his chair, finally letting himself breathe. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears and his whole body was hot with need. Struggling to compose himself, he looked at you.

His eyes had a hazy look in them, it was the same gaze you saw last night. His pupils were blown with lust, his cheeks were flushed and his lips parted as he softly panted.

Wooyoung stared. He blinked a couple of times to make his eyes focus on you. A part of him was annoyed that you just looked so neutral as if everything was okay. You had that small smile on your lips whenever you two spoke and that gentle captivating gaze that made one feel that what they had to say was very important to you. But right now, that gentle demure look taunted him.

“Your leg cramp must be really bad,” you finally spoke. “You should relax, Woo.” You got up and started to stack the empty plates on one another. “I’ll go put these in the sink and wash them, okay?” You smiled sweetly, reaching across the table to get his plate as well, knowing that it would the man a view of your breasts against the lace lingerie when you dipped forward. Will he finally snap?

While you walked over to the kitchen, Wooyoung glanced down at his lap, his painfully hard cock creating a tent in his cotton sweats. He was irritated. You had the fucking audacity to smile and act as if nothing happened? After whatever the fuck you just pulled?

You observed him from the kitchen, waiting for him to make his move but the man just sat there. Rolling your eyes, you made your way to him, the soft patter of your feet on the cold floor not making him look at you.

You’ll make him look at you.

“Hey.”

Wooyoung let out a shaky breath as something soft and warm pressed against his throbbing cock, ripping him from his thoughts and making him aware of the body perched on his lap. His eyes were wide as he met yours, confusion and surprise in them when you rested your hands on his shoulders.

“Look at me.” You whispered, running a gentle trail down the back of his neck.

“What are you—,” he started to say, trying to ignore the fact you were straddling his lap with your panty-clad pussy pressed against his cock.

“It hurts doesn’t it?” You took one of his hands, bringing it up to your chest and resting it atop your breast, making him cup the soft flesh.

“Why did you do that?” He asked, his other hand gripping your hip, using it to ground himself. His mind was screaming at the sudden closeness. The heat of your body beneath his palm, your sweet scent filling up his senses and the fact you were even touching him was making him want to really feel you, all of you.

“Do what?” You purred, bringing the hand that was on your breast away from your chest and letting his fingertips feel your warm lips.

“You know what I’m talking about Y/N.” He watched your every move, shamefully anticipating what you would do next.

“Do I?” You teased, bringing his thumb to brush your lips and before he could say another word, you took the digit in your mouth, sucking softly at it and swirling your tongue around slowly.

“F-fuck,” Wooyoung muttered breathily. His mind went straight to imagining what it’d be like to have your lips around his cock right now.

You released his thumb with a soft pop, his eyes on your pink lips. “Did you like it?” You asked him, running your hands up his chest.

What were you referring to? The way you were touching him under the table? Cause if he was going to be completely honest, he did like it. He was annoyed that you edged him but he fucking loved it. Or…was it about last night?

“You could’ve gotten caught.” He didn’t move his hands from your hips. A part of him was still unsure whether he should cross the line despite you having acted as if that line didn’t exist.

“Me? I hope you mean you, Woo.” You giggled, tracing his jaw. “Leg cramp? I guess that was believable. I mean the boys bought it. Want me to make it better?” You cooed, slowly rolling your hips forward, dragging your clothed pussy against the length of his cock, earning the reaction you wanted from him.

He shivered and moaned softly.

“I didn’t let you finish, did I?” You kissed his neck, the heat of your lips making his hips buck involuntarily. You clicked your tongue. “Behave, Woo.”

Wooyoung glanced at the doorway, anxious that someone might walk in on you two. Why were you doing this?

“Answer me.” You whispered, your voice sweet like honey as you stopped moving, giving him nothing once more.

“Y-you didn’t.” He breathed out, gripping your hips fighting the urge to guide them against his cock.

“Good boy,” you slowly rolled your hips again, finding yourself growing wet at the hardness of his cock. He was so stiff. Maybe you did feel just a little bit bad that you didn’t let him cum. “But you’re not that good aren’t you?”

“H-huh?” Was all he could manage to say, too distracted and drunk at the feeling of your hips grinding your core unto his cock. The friction sent swift shocks of pleasure throughout his body.

“Don’t act dumb, Woo.” Your soft warm breath was against his ear. His heart pounded strongly in his chest as it dawned on him that you were talking about how you had caught him watching you and Yeosang last night.

Fuck.

This was your way of confronting him about it? Having him wrapped around your finger by turning him on, teasing him to no end, and torturing him with the very thing he wanted most, you.

“I-I’m sorry,” he croaked out, moaning when you licked a stripe along his neck.

“Are you really?” Your voice dipped low, one hand that had been resting on his shoulder moving down to the waistband of his sweats.

“Y/N, we shouldn’t.” In his own head, you two really shouldn’t. “Y-Yeosang—fuck.” You freed his cock from his pants and boxers, his hard length slapping against his stomach.

You bit your lip as you glanced down while you had been kissing along his jaw, the sight of the pink angry and leaking tip making you grow wetter.

“Yes. Me and Yeo.” You softly placed your fingertip on the tip, mouth watering at the precum that was leaking out and spreading the slick substance all over the head of his cock. “You’re a little pervert aren’t you?” You wrapped your hand around his length to have a feel of him. He was hot and heavy within your enclosed palm, and thick. “Did you like watching Yeo fuck me, Woo?”

You squeezed his cock gently, his head following forward and leaning on your chest as he moaned. “I did. Fuck. I did. Y/N please.”

Fuck it. He swore to himself. Fuck it all. He needed to cum, he needed you to do something. Anything. His cock was painfully hard and the unmoving touch of your hand was driving him crazy.

“I like it when you’re honest.” You hummed with a smile, getting up. Wooyoung’s hands gripped your hips in protest, feeling crazed at the thought of you leaving him high and dry again.

But you didn’t leave.

You perched yourself on the edge of the table you cleared on your own. Your hands pressed against the surface behind you, leaning on them.

“If you answer me honestly, I’ll let you cum.” You told him with a smile while batting your pretty lashes at him.

God, he just wanted to fall on his knees and kiss along your leg and worship every part of you.

Wooyoung swallowed thickly as he nodded, wincing a little as the cold draft kissed his bare cock.

“Do you hear me and Mingi fuck?” The first question of your little interrogation.

Maybe if he wasn’t so on edge and horny, he would’ve held back and lied.

Shakily, he answered, “Yes.”

You hummed as you nodded at his response, his eyes widening when you pinched the skirt of your lingerie and hiked it up high, giving him a glimpse of your matching panties.

“Do you touch yourself when you hear us?” Your second question.

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

Without any shame and his eyes focused on you, your magnetic eyes drawing him in your gaze, he wrapped his hand around his cock, an action all too familiar from the fantasizing about you all this time.

You hummed seductively and with his eyes on you, you did what you had done the very first night you two met. You brought your hand to your collarbone, tracing along it, his eyes following before you led them along your shoulder, slowly and agonizingly pushing the thin strap over the edge of your shoulder. The top hem dropped slightly, showing him more of your skin beneath the lingerie, the silk clinging to the curve of your breasts.

His hand moved along his cock, slowly, doing as you said, finding no relief from it at all. Not when you had pressed your cunt against it and wrapped your own hand around him just moments ago.

You licked your lower lip, adoring the sight of Wooyoung touching himself.

“Did you ever watch Mingi and I?” You followed up your next question. “Don’t move your hand too fast. We’re not yet done.”

Wooyoung slowed his hand down, still slumped against his chair but languidly stroking his cock.

“I did.” He admitted quickly, awaiting your next move to award his honesty.

You bunched the fabric of your lingerie to your waist, slowly parting your legs to show him your matching underwear. “When?”

Wooyoung bit his lip at the sight of your clothed cunt. Was your pretty pussy really on his cock a while ago?

He breathed out shakily, the stimulation of his cock in his own hand not enough to make him cum. “The first night you returned on this ship.”

“Get up.” You instructed him. “Come to me.”

Wooyoung let go of his cock and without any thought, walked up to you, now standing between your parted thighs.

You hooked your leg around his waist as you chuckled. “Closer.”

“Y/N…I’m sorry.” He said again, letting your hands guide his in where he could touch you. Despite the situation, he didn’t feel he had the right to touch you as he wanted or as he pleased.

“You must’ve tortured yourself,” you sweetly cooed, placing one of his hands on your hip before cupping his cheek, your thumb caressing his cheekbone. “Just watching from afar. Not able to touch me. Is that what you want? Do you want to touch me too?”

Too? Did you think of him touching you? Has the idea of being with him crossed your mind like his mind did?

Your voice was void of the sternness it had when you had been interrogating him. It was now sweet and inviting, gentle even?

“I’ve been wanting to touch you since the night we first met.” He answered, the very honest reply taking you aback and making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh, Woo,” you murmured softly, bringing closer til the underside of his cock was against your clothed core again. “If you wanted me, you should’ve just said so.”

What did you mean? He couldn't have you in the first place because you were someone else's to hold.

Why was your heart melting so easily for him? You had been sure what you had felt for Wooyoung and what he felt for you was nothing but desire. Just lust. And yet, you were being as sweet as you were with all your lovers.

“Y/N…”He squeezed your hips, his forehead resting atop the crown of your own head, getting a whiff of the scent of your shampoo. He needed to fucking cum. It was taking everything in him right now to not hump his cock against your clothed heat. “Please.”

“I like it when you beg.” You softly whispered before leaning back and propping yourself on your elbows, his eyes raking you up and down your body. “Since you were so honest….” He watched as your hand guided his cock this o where you wanted him.

His breath hitched when you slipped his cock beneath your silk panties, the smooth fabric making him shiver. His cock throbbed when he realized the silk was slightly damp and slick.

“You can’t put it in though.” You told him, guiding the tip of his cock along your slit coating him with your wetness.

Wooyoung stared at where you two were touching. You were moving his cock head between your plush pussy lips and a part of him could’ve died at the way you softly moaned when you circled his tip around your clit.

Was this really happening?

He was snapped from his thoughts when your hand left his cock, your silk panties softly smacking against his length.

His cock was between your silk underwear and your bare heat. Fuck. Was he dreaming? He stared at the shape of his length beneath the fabric. Something about the sight was so sinfully pleasing to his eyes.

Placing his hands over your hips with his thumbs pressing into your inner thighs, he slowly moved his hips forward and back, his cock slotted between your lower lips.

You softly moaned as his length rubbed your clit. Languidly, taking his sweet time and drinking in the sight and feeling of his cock on your pussy, Wooyoung didn’t care that he wasn’t inside you. This was just as good. In fact, better than he could ever imagine.

With his thumb, he pressed his length against you a little bit more, applying pressure on your clit and making you whimper. Fuck. Hearing you like this was better than from afar. His eyes were glued to how his cock pushed against the fabric of your underwear, bulging against it and slowly it became more sheer as his precum and your wetness mixed together.

"Woo,” you moaned so sweetly, gentle strong shocks of pleasure rolling through your body.

He moved his hips a little faster, making your hips wriggle in his hold and moan again. Eventually, the sliding of his cock against your wet folds made soft obscene slick sounds. Only you two could hear it.

“Fuck, you feel so good against me.” Wooyoung groaned softly, his core growing hotter at the fact your cunt was drooling all over his cock. He sped up just a little bit more, making the two of you moan in bliss as your clit got stimulated by his hot and heavy length.

The sight of his pink tip faintly shown through the damp wet patch on your underwear was something he wished he could take a picture of for memory. Wooyoung panted. He wanted you so bad. Every sigh and sound of pleasure from your lips caused by him, made him fall even more for you.

“Don’t hold back, Woo.” You told him, softly yelping when his cock rubbed your clit a certain way making your thighs shake. “I-,” you began shakily, lying back down fully on the table, the delicious feeling of his cock making you fall apart so easily. “I want you to cum.”

“Fuck. Don’t say things like that,” he groaned, rutting his hips at just the right pace.

“Make a mess, Woo. I don’t care.” You bucked your hips upwards wanting to feel your own release.

“Fuck it.” He hissed, continuing to fuck against your panties and cunt surprisingly passionately.

You whimpered and slid your hands over your body, the movement making his eyes snap away briefly from where you two were touching. One of your hands softly wrapped around his wrist while the other cupped and squeezed your right breast. You were driving him crazy.

Wooyoung’s breathing grew erratic as that coil in the base of his spine tightened further and further. The slick wet sounds of your pussy along with your soft whimpers and moans egged him on, and he began to swear under his breath.

He can’t believe this was happening. Your moans grew higher in pitch and breathier.

“Oh my god, Woo, please.” Fuck. You sounded so sweet and perfect begging.

“I’ve got you—f-fuck, fuck, fuck,” he slowly began to lose himself, his hips moving on their own as he chased his release, the increasing speed bringing you close to the edge.

You moaned his name again. Something he thought he would never ever hear. Now that he has, he just knew it was going to haunt him forever til he can have you again.

You cried out as you came, covering your mouth with your hand as you whined at how he was still going, watching his groomed brows knit together and his eyes blink blearily down at you. His hair was a perfect swoop of mess on his head and as he reached his climax, his beautiful jaw tightened while a vein in his neck began to bulge.

He looked so handsome above you and something about the way he looked at you, made you feel something bloom and flutter in your belly.

“Ah!” A broken gasp and cry left his pink parted lips. His hips stilled, completely pressed against yours as he finally, finally, came. Hot spurts of his cum seeped through your underwear and dripped down and along your pussy, making you moan at the warmth of his release.

His mind was blank as he came, his eyes processed the sticky mess of his cock in your panties and the disheveled pretty undone mess you were on the dining table. You were panting softly at your own high, your chest rising up and down, making him stare at your breasts for a bit. Your nipples were perked and poking through the silk, and if the hem fell a little bit more he could’ve seen your pretty peaks. His eyes then moved to your pussy. He couldn’t help but hook his finger at the fabric and move it aside, still keeping his cock rested against your mound.

If he had asked…would you let him take a picture? Because the pornographic sight before him was something he wanted to imprint in his mind forever.

Wooyoung never thought that he would ever, ever, see this. His thick white cum dripped down your pink pussy, and some of it slipped over your entrance making it look like he had cum inside of you. Grabbing his cock, he moved his cum around your pussy with the tip making your hips shake at the added stimulation from the high you were still in.

This was dirty.

You propped yourself up on your elbows once more and reached down to your core. Your fingers dipped between your folds and you felt your walls squeeze around nothing at his sticky hot cum.

“You came so much…” you thought out loud, your voice slowly bringing Wooyoung back to earth.

You pressed the pad of your pointer finger against your thumb and rubbed it against one another, feeling the wet slippery mess of his cum, Wooyoung watching you hypnotically. Feeling his eyes follow your every move once more, you watched him as he watched you. He has always been watching you. But this time, you knew.

You brought your cum stained fingers to your lips and licked your digits, making Wooyoung’s mouth part just a little as a shaky breath left him. You hummed at the taste of him and it didn’t help that after you did that you met his eyes, and smirked.

“You’re really going to be the death of me, you know that.” He leaned his hands on the edge of the table, sighing.

You sat up, softly laughing, a sound that made his heart flutter. “Don’t say that. If you die, where’s the fun in that?”

That made him laugh with you, falling into this comforting and lighthearted fuzzy atmosphere. He barely even knew you. He didn’t know much except what you allowed him to know or what the other men could say about you.

Without thinking, he gently cupped your face, catching you off guard and staring at him with surprise. He didn’t say anything. He just…gazed at you in that way.

That same feeling that bubbled inside of you whenever San’s eyes smiled with his lips when he looked at you, or when Jongho held you with such care and protection whenever you two just lay down and talked with one another…when Yunho hugged you from behind whether when you two slept or when you’re doing work. When Seonghwa reads to you with your heart against his chest and your face buried in his neck under the fluffy blanket in the common room. When Mingi smiles and lets his goofy self out around you…or when Hongjoong shows you his poems and confides with you his innermost thoughts.

That special feeling of intimacy and love…what was that delicate beginning rush doing here too?

Wooyoung hasn’t been this close to you since the kitchen strawberry incident and every time he’s able to be this up close, he’s able to confirm that you’re real. That there’s warmth in your skin and that your gorgeous smile was something he could see every day.

“I…” he began, feeling his words get stuck in his throat. He was confused. He tucked himself back into his sweats and offered you a small smile. “I’ll clean you up, yeah?”

You nodded quickly, glancing at the doorway. The double doors were still closed. Maybe you should tell him the truth. About you and Mingi, Yeosang, and everyone else.

He returned with a soft towel. "May I?”

“Mhm.”

This was Jung Wooyoung.

Despite his burning desires, he was a caring soul and a gentleman. It’s kinda cute how slow he was to catch on but you knew the truth probably crossed his mind already and he was just in denial. It’s not everyday you meet 8 people all involved with one another intimately both physically and emotionally.

A scratching sound from the intercom interrupted the budding moment between the two of you, tearing both your attentions from each other.

“Y/N,” it was Jongho’s voice. “Hongjoong is calling you. Meet him in his office.”

You sighed softly, letting Woo clean off the cum that had landed on your lower abdomen. “Duty calls.” You hopped off the table.

“You’re a busy lady.” He chuckled, whipping his head away when he saw you shimmying your underwear down. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not going to go into Hongjoong’s office with cum stained underwear, Woo.” You huffed, stepping out of the fabric.

“Going commando is the better choice?”

“It’s not nice to keep the Captain waiting if I go get changed. I’ll just chuck it in the laundry room on the way there. My basket is already there anyway.” You shrugged and then smiled at him sweetly. “I’ll see you around, peeping Tom.”

“Hey!” Wooyoung defensively yelled.

You skipped out of the dining kitchen room.

What the fuck just happened?

“Oh, you’re all here?” All the men except Wooyoung were in the captain’s office when you arrived.

“You can brief Wooyoung for me later,” Hongjoong said as you walked into the room, standing next to Jongho who was sitting on the end of the three-seater couch facing his desk.

“Did his cramp get better?” Yeosang asked, standing next to San.

“Oh? He’s fine now. Don’t worry.” You answered, looking at Seonghwa who with his hand gestured for you to come closer to the desk where a digital map was laid out before you.

“This is the perimeter of the venue. It’s some rich Lord’s mansion. Since pretty important wealthy no good doers will be there, I’m sure the security will be tight.” Hongjoong began the briefing. Your eyes followed his pretty fingers as he pointed around the map.

You leaned forward a little to get a better look.

The sound of someone choking on their water, made yours, Hongjoong, and Seonghwa’s head snap to where it came from.

The pink-haired gunner was coughing and Yunho was giggling while rubbing comforting circles on his friend’s back. While San was staring at you adorably with wide eyes and Yeosang was pressing his lips together to stop his smile.

"Sweetheart..." San's ear turned pink.

“Y/N, you’re going to kill Mingi one day,” Jongho said, his eyes focused on you, his legs spread wide on the couch as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs.

“Huh? Why?” You blinked, tilting your head.

“Don’t you think a mission briefing is the wrong time to go commando?”

Now it was the Captain and Vice Captain’s turn to look at you with pleasant surprise. You felt the heat crawl up your neck and into your face.

“Oh, I…” For Wooyoung’s sake, you’d say a little white lie. “I must’ve forgotten…oops?”

Hongjoong shook his head fighting back a smile and grabbed his captain’s coat before going to where you were stood. From behind, he wrapped his coat sleeves around your waist securely. “Naughty little kitty.” He whispered only for you to hear, giving you a subtle quick kiss on the shoulder before returning to his spot.

“Y/N is not good for Mingbido.” Yunho chuckled.

“Mingi—what?” Seonghwa made a face.

“Mingbido,” Yunho repeated. “Mingi libido.”

“God damn it.” Jongho pinched the bridge of his nose. “You guys are so lame.”

“Hey! Speak kindly to your elders!” Yunho tutted, pursing his lips cutely.

“Elders? Okay, old man.” Jongho retorted.

“Hey!”

Hongjoong sighed before calling his members to his attention while you smiled at them sweetly. As much as he loved the way you looked so pretty and lovingly at them, you all have a very important agenda to attend to.

“Men. Focus!”

- feel free to scream in my askbox about the fic I will gladly fangirl

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#tokki;sway with me #ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez ot8 x reader #ot8 ateez x reader #mingi x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #san x reader #jongho x reader

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starlight-sev · 4 months

Text

Nothing’s Out to Get You (Post War!Snape x Reader)

Just because there’s peace outside now that the war’s over doesn’t mean there’s always peace inside.

Warnings: themes of ptsd and trauma. This is more of a comfort fic for these issues but please be aware these themes are brought up a few times throughout ❤️

A/N: i found this bone-chilling cover of The Bug Collector and my mind wandered. This is what came out of it. Enjoy 💕

Recovering from the war wasn’t easy.

Perhaps that was why you convinced Severus to move in with you. It was better to heal together than face your demons alone.

You had volunteered to bring him home after he was discharged from St. Mungo’s. You went in, expecting to have to fight your case for hours to get him to agree. To your surprise, as soon as the dreaded question left your lips, Severus nodded. Eagerly, even, which made your heart sink a little. After all, you seemed to be one of the only professors at Hogwarts that still respected him. You were one of the only people who knew the truth.

Harry hadn’t told the wizarding world the truth about Severus yet. You figured it would be a while before his real story came out.

You couldn’t let him fend for himself with the wounds he had. They only discharged him because he was no longer in critical condition, in order to make more room for other wizards that needed healing. Severus still had a long way to go in his own healing process. You wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself if something had happened to him while he was living alone, especially after having escaped death so narrowly.

He needed a friend by his side, and although you didn’t want to admit it openly, you did too.

You didn’t escape the war unharmed, either. A near miss with a Death Eater’s curse resulted in a steady tremble of your right hand. The nerves had been damaged, and no healer had been able to find a remedy strong enough to stop the trembling for good. Sometimes the shooting pain would be strong enough to wake you from your sleep, but you were beginning to manage. It was the only choice you had, really.

It had only been two months since the battle at Hogwarts, yet it felt as though you had aged fifteen years. With Severus being at your home, it made the days slightly more bearable.

The two of you existed as shadows in your home, orbiting each other in almost complete silence for most of the day. It was a stark contrast to how both of you behaved together at Hogwarts, often meeting on Friday nights to share a pot of tea and complain about that week’s troublemakers. You were the only one who could coax a smile out of Severus Snape.

Now, you couldn’t remember the last time either of you had smiled.

There’s a centipede, naked in your bedroom.

And you swear to god, the fucker’s out to get you.

You can still remember the way your blood ran cold the first time it happened.

Severus had been sleeping on your couch while you were in the process of cleaning out your office to turn into his new room. You woke in the middle of the night to a muffled sound. At first you thought it was a stray cat outside, but after a moment of rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you heard it again.

It was a scream, loud enough to travel down the hall and through the closed door of your bedroom clearly.

Severus.

You threw the covers off, wincing as the abrupt motion sent a tiny shockwave through your hand. Throwing open your door, you raced down the hall to the living room. Your heart pounded as you fumbled for the small lamp by the coffee table, and you tried your best to ignore the images that played through your mind of that night you found Severus in the Shrieking Shack.

Severus lay curled up on your couch, his hands tightened into fists as he clutched the blanket around him. He was whimpering loudly, and from the dull light of the lamp, you could see he was sweating profusely. Your heart relaxed only slightly as you cast a worried glance to the bandages on his neck but luckily found them clean.

“Hey,” you whispered cautiously, kneeling down and resting your hands against the seat of the couch. “Sev. Wake up.”

You reached to touch him, but then froze, your trembling hand inches from his shoulder. You didn’t want to startle him awake and accidentally hurt him in the process.

“Severus,” you repeated, a little louder this time. “Wake up. Wake up!”

You tried your best to ignore how your voice trembles as it caught in your throat.

Severus woke with a gasp. His dark eyes shot open, but they were distant, foggy almost. He was still too far lost in his nightmare to focus on you.

You took a chance, inching forward to check if he was okay. As your hand touched his own, he hissed sharply and drew back, trembling despite the warmth radiating through your home.

“It’s me,” you managed to squeak out. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Severus finally seemed to notice you sitting there at the edge of the couch. His gaze swept over you and you watched as he frowned, as if he was trying to remember where he was.

“You’re in my home,” you continued. “You… I heard you screaming. You were having a nightmare.”

His eyes widened, and before you could stop him, he reached up to touch his bandages in the exact spot where Nagini had attacked. Panic filled his eyes for a brief moment, then confusion. You reached forward and grabbed his wrist tightly, gently easing his hand back down to his lap.

“God…” Severus muttered, passing his free hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I…”

A muffled sob escaped him as he kept his hand pressed over his eyes. Without thinking twice, you leaned forward and drew him into you. You held him tightly, despite the pain that shot through your hand as you did so.

“You’re safe now,” you whispered. “Nothing can hurt you now. You’re awake. You’re safe.”

You felt your heart crack as Severus rested his forehead against your shoulder.

“I-I’m here.” You said slowly. You reached up to caress his hair softly, feeling tears of your own fill your eyes as Severus sobbed, clutching you desperately as if you’d disappear.

You never thought you’d see the stoic and unshakable man you’d worked with for so many years fall apart in your arms this way.

Then again, you never imagined any of this would ever happen.

After that night, the two of you agreed to sleep in the same room together. And then, when that still wasn’t enough, in the same bed. It seemed to be the only way that both of you could fall asleep and leave behind the lingering memories and fear of the war.

There’s a praying mantis, prancing on your bathtub.

And you swear he’s a priest from a past life, come to get you.

The second time the war came back to haunt your home, it came after you.

You were in the kitchen drying dishes. A storm raged outside, but it didn’t bother you. You had grown to like the sound of thunder over the years you spent teaching at Hogwarts.

The day had been calm. Severus spent the morning sitting with you at your small wooden dining table and, for the first time in god knew how long, the two of you had actually laughed together over breakfast.

As you reached for a teacup to dry and put away, you heard a slight shuffle as Severus walked over to your bookshelf. You could just barely see him from the doorway as he peered at all the books you had crammed onto the shelf.

“You’ve finished Pride and Prejudice already?” You called out with a smile.

“Yes.” He replied matter-of-factly from the other room. “You’d better have more Austen on your shelf or I’m coming for your head.”

You giggled as you set the teacup back in the cabinet and reached for the second one.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never read her work before. Sense and Sensibility is on the bottom shelf, right side.”

“There is a god.” You laughed at Severus’ response. “Thank you.”

Before you could call out a reply, there was a flash outside your window.

That’s when time stopped.

You were no longer in your kitchen, but back there. In the courtyard of Hogwarts, running to catch up to Harry and his two friends as you raced against time to get to the Shrieking Shack. You looked to your right just as a bright flash of red shot your way. Then a fire in your hand.

“Y/N!”

The burning feeling in your right hand. It was all you could think about. The flash you saw. They were back. Coming for you. Ending it for good this time-

“Y/N, look at me.”

You heard someone crying. Was it Hermione? You were supposed to protect them, Harry and his friends. Did you fail?

“Y/N, come on!

Firm hands grasped either side of your face, snapping you back into reality. Severus stared at you with a strange combination of fright and determination.

“They’re back,” you gasped, wincing as Severus dug his fingertips into your shoulders tighter than you expected, an attempt to bring you out of your memories. “I-”

“It was lightning,” Severus replied quietly, resting one hand over your trembling one. You whimpered as you remembered the pain that shot through it that night the moment the curse hit you. “No one is outside. It was lighting, Y/N. It was the storm.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, but that only made the memories come back stronger. You opened your eyes again, your gaze landing on the shattered teacup that lay inches away from where you sat.

Severus guided your chin up until your eyes met his again.

“Stay like this,” he commanded softly. “Eyes on me. Breathe.”

He took a deep breath, and motioned for you to follow. You couldn’t stop shaking.

“It’s still there,” you whispered in defeat. “I can’t get it out of my head.”

Severus nodded his understanding as he caressed your cheek comfortingly. His features creased into a worried frown as he watched you try to catch your breath.

“Look at me, Y/N. Eyes on me, not the floor.”

You had to fight to tear your eyes away from the teacup. Severus smiled softly as your eyes met his once more.

“Good. Stay with me. You’re safe.”

I try my best…

…to prove that nothing’s out to get you.

The days turned to weeks, and then into months. Before you knew it, it had been a year since Severus had moved in with you.

You never believed people who said everything would heal with time, and a part of you still didn’t, but there were small things that had you thinking… perhaps there was an element of truth to that saying.

You saw it from time to time - moments of healing. It was in the way Severus placed a warm hand on your back as he passed behind you in your narrow kitchen. In the shared glances and gentle smiles the two of you exchanged over dinner. In the embraces you two gave each other before bed, which, as the months went on, turned into passionate kisses in the middle of the night.

Perhaps the fact that you and Severus had become lovers over the last few months contributed to why time felt increasingly gentle as it passed. Sure, there were still moments when you’d both be pulled right back into the war, but it happened less frequently. The painful, sharp edges of those memories had finally begun to dull.

You stood in the kitchen, slowly slicing strawberries as you watched the first few rays of sunrise begin to filter through the window. As you placed the slices into a bowl and reached for another berry, you felt a pair of arms gently circle around your waist.

“It’s not like you to be up early,” Severus grumbled as he kissed the shell of your ear. “Come back. Your side of the bed is too cold.”

“You weren’t supposed to be awake yet,” you replied with a laugh, turning your head just enough to kiss his nose. “I was planning on surprising you with breakfast in bed.”

“Mmm.” Severus began kissing your neck softly. “Sounds nice. I’d much rather have you in bed, though.”

You laughed and swatted at his arm as you resumed slicing strawberries.

Severus watched your motions in silence for a few moments, before his hand trailed back up your waist, across your arm, until his fingers rested over your right hand. You set your knife down and watched as Severus laced his fingers through your trembling ones.

“Does it hurt?” He asked quietly, stroking your thumb softly with his own. You shook your head.

“Not nearly as much as before. Sometimes I’ll still wake up in the night if I’m not careful and sleep on it funny… but it’s okay.”

“You should tell me when it hurts,” Severus murmured, leaning his head against yours. “I’ve been testing ingredients for various pain tonics, I think I might be close to finding a cure for your hand.”

You smiled at his statement. “It’s okay, really. The healers at St. Mungo’s said there’s nothing they can do. It’s permanent nerve damage.”

“Not if I can help it. There’s a cure for it until I know for certain I’ve tried everything I can.” Severus grumbled, his grip on your waist tightening. “Everyone at St. Mungo’s is a dunderhead. They discharged me when they knew I was no longer on the brink of death.”

You turned around, frowning at Severus disapprovingly. He sighed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face before kissing your forehead gently.

“Sorry. But you know it’s true. You did more to help me heal than they ever did.”

You nodded slowly, reaching your trembling fingers up to the scar on his neck. Your fingers hovered a few inches away, hesitant to touch the wound that had nearly claimed his life.

“It’s alright,” Severus reassured you. Your worried gaze met his warm, dark eyes. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

He placed his hand over your own, and the firm pressure of the palm of his hand against the back of your own stilled the trembling for a few moments. He slowly pushed your hand forward until it rested gently against his scar.

“It really doesn’t hurt?” You asked doubtfully.

“Sometimes,” Severus began softly, a memory tugging his gaze far away from you for a moment. “It feels strange. As if I’m remembering the pain but not experiencing it. It’s dull. Far away. But it’s nothing compared to the pain I felt when I first came home with you.”

You looked up and met Severus’s gaze, and you gave him a tiny smile.

“Thanks for coming home with me.” You whispered. That earned a frown from him.

“You say that as if I did you a favour.” He replied.

“You did, in a way. I don’t think I’d have been able to survive all this without you.”

In response, Severus leaned in and kissed you. It was soft at first, barely there, until you reached up and pulled him closer to you. His grip tightened on your waist and you nearly melted as the kiss grew more and more passionate. You reached your hands up to caress his face, but then broke away, cursing silently as your hand began trembling more than usual.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “It’s hard to control sometimes.”

Severus shook his head and kissed your palm, before leaning in to kiss you once more.

“You’re alright.”

You nodded. This time, you believed him.

“I know. You are too.”

Severus gazed at you understandingly. He kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a few extra moments, before pulling you into a protective embrace.

“We both are.”

#snape x reader #snape imagine #severus snape #harry potter #harry potter imagine #severus snape imagine #snape x y/n #harry potter imagines #severus snape x reader

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muchosbesitos · 7 months

Note

Hey, I’m not sure if you’re open or not, but I have a request that I thought would be hot!

So Miguel x vigilante! Reader. She’s not a hero, but if Miguel needs her then she will help him (is very opposed to it but does it because they used to be friends). Sometimes the two of them will fight, but they would never somehow hurt each other badly.

But one day she gets hurt by some arrogant hero (idk who, maybe a variant of cat woman or smth) and Mig gets PISSED! Like he grabs reader and looks at the other hero as if he was about to commit mass homicide.

And he takes care of reader, but he begins to get Dark! Cause he will not let her leave his house, he treats her like a godddess, will spoil her (idk) but then he will not allow her to call anyone. She also finds out that he called into her work and said that she will no longer be working there. And one day he comes back home and straight up proposes to her, saying how he wants her to be his wife and be his forever. He also begins to start saying how he knows that she likes the thought of him torturing others for her etc etc.

Thank you so so much!!! ~ ☀️

only one you need

pairing: miguel o’hara x vigilante fem reader

contents: some yandere themes, spanking, slapping (once), choking, unprotected p in v, breeding kink, degrading, orgasm denial, smidge of lore (not too important)

author’s note: i hope you enjoy and thank you for being patient with me <33 (i hope i didn’t mess this up 😓)

word count: 3.4K

You weren't a hero by any means. You were the Robin Hood of your community, stealing from the rich and powerful to redistribute amongst yourself and your community. The only thing that motivated you to continue taking beatings regularly was the fact that you knew you would starve if you didn't. Your job paid decent, though it wasn't nearly enough to cover your expenses living in Nueva York along with the cost of food.

You were heading back home after stopping a mob deal when you heard the watch in your pocket go off. It'd been weeks of radio silence and you'd assumed that Miguel simply found someone else to work with. While the two of you constantly butted heads over what methods to deal with your opponents, he was very dedicated to his work which made him tolerable to work with. You also had a preference towards helping him given that you cherished the friendship you had with him. The text simply told you to meet him at Earth-65, that it was an urgent matter to be dealt with.

The earth wasn't too different from the other ones you've encountered, though the streets seemed to be more empty than usual. You went up to the Empire State Building, a constant meeting spot in the worlds that you visited. "Hey Spider-Man, what's up?" You asked him, seeing that he was sitting at the ledge. "Took you long enough," he told you, pressing some buttons on his gizmo and his mask dissipated. You rolled your eyes, sitting down next to him as you waited for a brief of what you'd be doing here. "I called you over because of a villain here," he told you, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. "Ask me for my help with a ‘please’ and I might consider it."

He looked around like he was worried of someone overhearing before he turned to look at you. "Pretty please help me with this," he said, though you weren't expecting him to actually comply. "Okay, what's up with this villain?" You asked him and he stayed quiet for a moment as his lips pursed. "Basically the Kingpin from this dimension wants to repeat what the one from Earth-1610 did," he finally spoke up and you couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"So why not use the same strategy as last time?" You asked him and he let out a small growl at the mention of what happened. "That ended up in more harm than good if you don't recall and this Kingpin's working with the Hand. Apparently they're skilled ninjas or something like that, right up your alley," he responded and your brows furrowed in recognition. "Doesn't Daredevil usually deal with them in every universe?" You inquired, looking up at him. "Daredevil is Kingpin here."

You and Miguel discussed some strategies on how to deal with your little problem when you felt a gush of wind zoom right past you. Before you two had a chance to attack, the two of you found yourselves tied up in a rope. Your attacker came into view, resulting in none other than Felicia Hardy, and she came in close to analyze the two of you. "Well, you're much more handsome than the usual Spider-Man," she purred, stroking Miguel's cheek as she spoke. "Kingpin wanted me to send his regards, though he doesn't appreciate you two trying to stop him," she continued, stepping back once she finished with her observations. "Seems counterintuitive to help out the man who killed your father," Miguel spoke up, letting out a scoff.

Felicia’s eyes darkened for a moment before they returned back to normal, a smirk on her face. "I don't do things that don't benefit me," she simply said, looking down at the two of you. "So, do you choose to take the warning or continue with this little strategy of yours? The Hand will never let you even two inches close to him," she inquired, tapping her foot on the floor. Miguel took the chance to unsheath his claws, the rope falling on the floor. Felicia whistled, a circle of ninjas surrounding the two of you.

The two of you split up, defending yourselves against the Hand, while Felicia watched idly by the side. You got on top of her, planning to tie her up and ended up getting punched on the nose. You recoiled, your defenses weakened when you felt a sharp sting in your stomach. You looked down to see that one of the ninjas stuck a katana in you, the blood starting to pool on the floor. Miguel pulled the ninja off you and grabbed Felicia by her neck, dangling her as he picked her up. His talons unsheathed at his sides, a small growl coming up his throat as he opened his mouth, fangs ready to attack her.

"Miguel!" You screamed, holding your stomach as you tried to control the bleeding. You looked up to see Felicia, the fear evident in her eyes even though her stoic expression didn't show it. You couldn't help but feel a bit of guilty as you saw her for what she was in that moment. She was willing to do anything to get her father back, even work with the man that scorned her. Miguel turned to look at you, his eyes softening and his talons retreating as he set down felicia. Your vision began spotting up, and the only thing you felt was Miguel's arms helping you up before you passed out.

You woke up with the sun shining in through the curtains in a unfamiliar room before the events from earlier came back to you. You looked down to your stomach and realized that the stab wound was mostly healed, minimal scarring visible. You looked over to see Miguel walking in, holding a pill with a glass of water. "You finally woke up, how are you feeling?" He asked, handing you the pill and water. "Just a little pain. How long have i been out for?" You inquired, putting the pill in your mouth before gulping down the water. "You've been out for almost a week."

"Thank you for taking care of me, but I have to get back to my universe. I'm sure my job won't let me spend me any more time off," you told him once you finished up with the water, wiping your mouth. "You don't have to worry about that anymore, I called them to tell that you wouldn't be coming in anymore," he responded eerily calm and your eyes narrowed.

"Why would you do that, Miguel?"

"Because you don't have to worry about your financial situation anymore. You'll be staying here with me and I'll be taking care of you."

"But what about the people in my neighborhood?"

"I'll take care of their necessities."

You took a couple seconds to consider what he was telling you before nodding. "Okay, sure," you responded, folding your arms awkwardly. The concept was foreign to you, of having to depend on someone else for your financial needs. You'd been working to provide for yourself since you were able to, though you lived very minimally. "Did you manage to get Kingpin?" You asked, looking over at him. "I did, I got some of the other members from the Society to help me. I'm sorry for putting you in danger. The last thing i wanted was for you to get hurt," he responds, rubbing the side of his neck.

"It was just a little cut, I’ll be fine," you tried to downplay the situation, despite the fact that you felt a pain every time you moved. "I'll take care of you while you heal, okay?" He reassured you, kissing your forehead before he walked out of the room. You sat down on the bed as you tried to wrap your head around the situation, that you'd never have to work again or have to settle for the minimum. You began to accept the idea the more you thought about it even if you weren't too sure why Miguel was doing all this for you.

"Hey, Miguel? Why're you doing all this for me?" You asked him when you came out to the kitchen, seeing that Miguel was cooking something up for the both of you. "I care about you, even if I haven't really shown it through my actions. You're the only person I can really tolerate being around for extended periods of time," he responded, looking over at you as he set down the spoon. You helped him out by chopping some of the vegetables, glancing at him through the corner of your eye. “I took the opportunity to go to your universe to bring back some of your clothes. I hope you don't mind knowing that I went through your closet," he told you as he poured in the chopped vegetables in the soup he was making. "I don't mind, thank you for that," you responded, looking through the cabinets for some spices.

You felt your breath hitch as Miguel moved behind you, reaching towards the cabinet above you. He placed his hand on your hip for a split second as he grabbed the spices, pulling them out. You missed the touch as soon as he walked away, going towards the oven once more. You watched as he cooked, pouring in the oregano and thyme, keeping his eye on the container to not pour in too much. You excused yourself from the kitchen, going back into the bedroom.

You called one of the girls you'd been helping back in your universe, hoping that she'd been doing well in your absence. "What are you doing?" You heard from behind you, Miguel coming into the room. "I'm trying to call one of the people I used to help out back home, see how she's doing," you responded, looking back at him. He grabbed the phone from you, hanging up before sticking it in his pocket. "No more of that. The only person you need to talk to is me. I'm the only person that you need," he told you, holding up your chin as he spoke. "But I’m worried about her, Miguel," you tried to defend yourself but he wasn't budging on the subject. "I'll go check up on her tomorrow if that's important to you. But you won't be talking to anyone else. Like I told you, I’m the only person that you need."

Even though you should've ran for the hills after he told you that, you didn't mind only being with him and only spending time with him. He'd even given you an Amex card, telling you to spend whatever you want to your heart's content. Needless to say, your wardrobe ended up expanding into luxurious items and you bought more expensive jewelry. Miguel often told you how much he liked seeing you spend his money, how much he liked seeing you glammed up and just because of him.

Your relationship with Miguel continued to grow throughout the following weeks, the two of you ended up having dinners together and doing activities in the house. Though you had a longing to spend time with other people, you could appreciate that Miguel let you keep the interdimensional watch.

Miguel arrived from work late at night, his eyebags prominent as he stepped out of the portal. "Hey, how'd it go today?" you asked him, walking up to him to wrap your hands around him. "It was okay. I'm gonna go change into something comfortable and I'll join you for dinner," he told you, dipping his head to kiss your forehead. He walked away, retreating back to the bedroom to get changed and you headed into the kitchen. You served a plate for you both and set them down on the table, sitting down as you waited for him to come out.

Dinner had gone as usual, mostly just talking about what you'd done inside the house and him talking about what kind of creatures he'd encountered. Though you felt some sort of longing at being able to go to the streets and fight again, you couldn't help but wonder if your efforts were all just in vain after all. That no matter how much you gave it your all in the fights that you had, it wouldn't matter in the end and that made it easier to make yourself more comfortable just staying with Miguel. You were about to head upstairs after finishing up the dishes to get ready for bed before you were stopped by him calling out your name.

You turned around to see miguel on one knee and all the air in your lungs escaped as you saw the box he was holding. "Will you marry me?" The request was simple but his face told you that everything about the gesture was not. You could see the love that he held for you as he looked up at you and you couldn't help the tears that rolled down your cheek. You nodded quickly and went over to kiss him, rubbing the tears away from your cheeks. "I'd love to marry you, Miguel."

The union was at Miguel's house and the only people present were the priest and Peter B. Parker to authenticate the wedding. You had on a beautiful floor-length white dress while Miguel had on a black tux, the material fitting him snugly. "You may now kiss the bride," the priest told the both of you after the vows were done and Miguel placed his his hands on your hips as he kissed you. The priest left a couple minutes after that and Miguel headed upstairs to get the nice whiskey out.

You took the opportunity to make conversation with Peter, wanting to know more about his close friend. You were in the middle of discussing what Miguel was like at work with him when Miguel grabbed your arm, pulling you behind him. "I think it's time for you to leave, Peter. Me and my wife have some talking to do," he told him, his voice eerily calm despite how much his back had tensed up as he spoke. Peter congratulated the two of you once more before he left the house and Miguel turned to look at you, his eyes narrowed. "Run."

You felt your heart thumping as you hid underneath the bed and the only thing you could do was listen to Miguel's taunting calls. "Where are you, conejita? Don't you wanna come out and play?" He purred, his voice echoing throughout the empty house. (bunny) Miguel came into the bedroom, his footsteps shuffling around as he opened up the closet door and peeked inside before shutting the door. You let out a sigh of relief but that relief was short lived when your legs were pulled back, forcing you out of your hiding spot.

"Do you know what you did wrong, mi amor?" He asked you, his tone condescending as he held a firm grip on your chin. "I talked to Peter when I shouldn't have, I'm sorry," you replied, your eyes drifting towards the ground in shame. "Aht, none of that. Look at me," he ordered and you complied, looking up at him. "Tell me conejita, what do you think the adequate punishment for that is?" He inquired, his voice husky as he sat down on the bed, bringing you down onto his lap. Your throat bobbed as your mind ran blank and Miguel couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. "You shouldn't have left it up to me, muñeca." (doll)

You let out a whine as his hand met the plush skin of your ass once more, the skin stinging from the amount of times he'd done this. "Count or we're starting over from zero," he told you as tears ran down your cheeks. "Ten!" You whined out, your pussy clenching against nothing as your juices coated his pant leg. "Can't even punish you because you end up liking it like the slut you are," he hissed, bringing his hand up to slap your other ass cheek. The two of you kept this up until he reached twenty and he looked down at you, his brows furrowing. "What's the color?" He asked, his voice taking on a light tone despite what he'd just done. "Green," you responded, getting up from the bed before Miguel took you in his arms with ease.

You were laid down on your back as Miguel took off his pants, the tip of his cock red as it glistened with precum. You spread your legs instinctively and he started to insert his cock in slowly, making sure to give you some time to adjust before he got started. Soon enough, his hips were snapping against yours with every thrust that he took and his hand went up to your neck, squeezing gently. "The only one you need and will ever need is me, understood?" He told you as he continued to abuse your cunt with his cock. You struggled to form words in your head so you moaned out in approval, only being met with Miguel's hand slapping across your cheek. "I need a verbal response, conejita," he told you, his hand returning back to the spot around your neck. "Y-Yes!" Your voice came out garbled as you try to conjure up the words and let out a soft hum in approval before he placed your legs against your chest.

"I think you like knowing that I would kill anyone for you. That I wouldn't let anything happen to you, mi amor," he told you, his voice coming out strained as your walls squeezed around his cock. The headboard slammed against the wall as he continued to thrust deep into you, his pace never faltering. You felt your orgasm approaching you quickly and your moans got louder, your hands gripping the bedsheets. The sweet euphoria of the orgasm never came, though, because Miguel pulled out his cock right as you were about to approach your peak. "You really think you can cum with that little stunt you just pulled?" He asked you, letting out a laugh before you had a chance to protest.

He pushed his cock inside of you once more in a swift motion, your hands gripping his forearms as he continued. "Please! Make me cum, Mig!" You pleaded, tears rolling down your cheeks. He leaned down, licking away your tears as he let out a small chuckle. "I will, princesa. You'll be begging me to stop by the time this is over," he responded, his hands on your hips as he pushed in deeper and faster. "You'll be so pretty when you're full of my cum. That's all you're meant to be, my pretty little wife and the bearer of my kids. Those tits full of milk and everybody will know just who you belong to," he told you, his hand coming down on your clit as he rubbed small, sloppy circles on your clit.

Luckily enough, he let you cum this time and your releases coated his shaft, providing him enough lubrication to slide in easily. He came soon after as he felt your walls squeeze his cock dry, his cum coating your walls completely. You'd expected him to stop right there but he continued to thrust inside of you, keeping that same pace from before. "I told you, you'd be asking me to stop by the time this is over," he told you with a smirk, bending down to kiss you as he placed your legs over his shoulders.

You were unsure of how many times you'd came by the time the night was over and all the thoughts in your brain had been turned into mush. Miguel pulled out his softening cock out of you, your plush walls stuffed with his cum after his multiple orgasms. He grabbed a cloth from the bathroom, cleaning you up gently so to not give you any more stimulation. He held you close to him as you came down from your orgasms, your breath returning back to normal. "Did I go too far?" He asked you gently, his hand rubbing small circles on your back. "No, it's okay," you assured him, pressing a small kiss on his cheek. "Te amo, esposa. Nunca te quiero perder." (i love you, wife. i never want to lose you)

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