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jurijyuu · 10 hours

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I wanna take a ride on your radio stick (Alastor x Reader)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

AlastorxReader Smut

Summary: Being sick sucks ass. Unfortunately, your boyfriend is the Radio Demon who’s too busy to keep an eye on you as you recover. As you sleep through your cold, your boyfriend leaves you his mic to keep in touch in case you need help.

Note: No, you do not use his mic as a dildo. That's Vox's kink.

What's in Store: Gender-Neutral Reader, Masturbation, Dry Humping, Established relationship, Male Masturbation, Alastor discovers ASMR

Your POV

When you woke up delirious and exhausted one day, your boyfriend practically panicked. It was odd to see him fret, so unsure and unsettled over a cold. It’s not like dying from illness in Hell would be permanent either so his frittering about was completely uncalled for.

Darling, have some soup. Darling, drink some water. Darling, I brought some medicine. Between your fuzzy senses and bleary awareness throughout the last couple of days, these moments of attention and care piled up into memory. Ah, but he really was sweet even when his worry was unnecessary. When you were better, you would pay him back.

That said, for the first time in days, you felt somewhat clear headed, the fog of sleep no longer clinging to you in moments of consciousness. You tried to remember how long you’d been out. Three days? Four? Alastor would know but the deer man wasn’t here. Weakly, you searched for his presence. The house was silent except for the sounds of the bayou where your shared home stood, no footsteps on creaking floorboards or humming as he went about his routine. You did, however, sense his power. It was faint compared to what he exuded but it was there, not too far from you. Turning to the side, you found his staff leaning neatly on the nightstand.

Right. He had business to attend to at the hotel. You vaguely remember him telling you that earlier along with how he’d leave his microphone here just in case you needed to contact him. Why he refused to get even just a pager, you really didn’t understand. But you weren’t complaining right now. The faint trace of his magic from the microphone was comforting in the absence of the man himself.

Sluggishly, you crawled to the edge of the bed and reached for the staff to bring into bed with you.

“Al?” You called weakly hoping to hear your boyfriend’s voice but only received silence as a response. So he was too busy. Unfortunate, though it’s probably for the best as you only wanted to hear him and that wasn’t a good enough reason to interrupt his work.

Still…

Closing your eyes, a few memories flitted through your mind. A calming hand, and sweet murmurs asking if you were feeling better, what did you need? Your lover had always been good at caring for you but it was never with quite the amount of tenderness your faint memories provided. He’d sounded so unbelievably sweet that you regretted not being able to see him through most of it, fighting for consciousness as you were. Your heart clenched and stuttered thinking of your tall menace of a gentleman actually being a gentle man.

It could have been your fever or just your imagination trying to fill in the blanks of what face your usually chipper lover looked like as he cared for you but you felt flush as you laid in bed. Alastor…

He usually grinned a toothy smile meant to intimidate or fool anyone into thinking he was always having a jolly good time. But on occasion, you’d caught him with a small one, eyes half-lidded, lost in a soft sweet song from yesteryear, oblivious to the world. Sometimes those eyes would be looking at you, something electric lighting them up when you looked back at him.

Had he looked at you with that tired and lazy stare? Waiting patiently for you to get better as he took care of all your needs from changing your clothes to even bathing your body.

Heat pulsed down your body to between your legs. That wasn’t the fever.

With a groan you turned to your side, the faint wave of arousal heating you up as it passed through you. Should you? Shouldn’t you? If you waited long enough, it would go away on its own. But then again, this was a rare opportunity to help yourself since Alastor was out and left you alone for once.

Your throat felt dry as the arousal continued its slow but blaring spike. Ahh fuck it. You blamed your still feverish mind for giving in to quick relief.

Reaching into your pants, you fondled your sex through your underwear, gentle and slow, almost shy. When Alastor touched you, it was always urgent and demanding, his dominant personality on full display even as he was servicing your body. But what you wanted right now was that soft Alastor.

One faint memory in particular came to mind. Your body had been burning hotter than it was right now.

“Oh dear. You’re sweating so much, darling. Let me wipe you down.”

His ungloved hand reached out to help you sit up against the headboard, careful not to jolt you too harshly. There was a faint sloshing of water. With your eyes still sleepy, you didn’t see him but he must’ve rolled his sleeves up, coat put away somewhere since he was home.

“Easy there. Let me take off your shirt, sweetheart.”

Your heartbeat picked up as you remembered the faint brushes of his fingers as he unbuttoned your sleepwear. With your free hand, you imitated your imaginary lover. Those long fingers peppered little touches on your chest, on your sternum and down your belly, another wave of heat following their path down but never quite reaching where you’d wanted them to go. He was always a tease.

Your breath hitched as you imagined him looking at your bare chest, one strong hand firmly keeping you in place against the headboard as the other went to grab a washcloth. Did he rub little circles on your clavicle with his thumb while he was at it? You’d like to think he did as you replicated his motions, rubbing your thumb in light circles over your sex.

This soft Alastor didn’t speak much, not wanting to disturb your rest more than he already was. Instead, he crooned a soft melody, keeping you teetering in limbo between wakefulness and sleep as your body grew hotter.

A cold cloth passed over your shoulder causing you to keen, your nipples hardening in response to the imaginary chill, something your lover probably noticed. With firm yet gentle strokes, he patted the wet cloth against your sweaty body, each touch so gentle that it stoked a fire in your belly. Every time the cloth was washed, wrung and brought back to your body, you hissed, the cool sensation a stark contrast against your heated skin and heated core.

“Almost done, sweetheart.”

He was talking in a lower tone, almost whispering, voice turning the slightest bit gravelly. This was supposed to cool you down so why was it getting you hotter? And did he notice that the flush creeping up your chest had nothing to do with your cold?

Finally, he’d finished wiping your back and arms, tossing the washcloth into the basin with a loud splash.

In reality, he’d dressed you up in a new shirt and you went back to sleep but not this imaginary deer man.

“Oh darling, you still look so flushed.”

Clawed hands gently cupped your heated cheeks, their coolness shooting straight to your aroused sex in a way that was a little embarrassing given that your man was only trying to clean you up. And even with your eyes closed, you knew he noticed, his stare feeling electric on your exposed skin.

“Oh I might have missed a spot.”

There was a light teasing in his voice, only masked by the rough murmur it had turned to. You heard the water slosh again. A cold and slightly rough sensation brushed against your erect nipple. You moaned in shocked pleasure as it jolted lighting through your body. A similarly shocked gasp came from your imaginary Alastor, a light break in his static as his hand lightly clenched.

You felt boneless as his other hand guided you to lay back down as he cooed softly.

“Your fever is back up, darling. Let me try to cool you down.”

The washcloth rubbed lightly against your other nipple and your stomach clenched. It felt so good. He kept at it, playing with one or the other until you were a writhing mess. You tried to open your eyes but they were too heavy.

“Shhh sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

One claw tip, razor sharp, lightly flicked your nipple, rubbing on it just a bit before tracing a line down your navel, down your bellybutton and stopping just at the waistband of your pajamas before ghosting over your sex.

He said nothing but the sound of his chuckles transformed that sweet face into his usual smug one. Arrogant prick. He was planning to tease you til you begged, wasn’t he? You were almost tempted to let him play with you until you got to that point. A wicked smile stretched in his face.

“Don’t tease me, Al.”

“Tease you, dear? I’m just trying to clean you up. Sit up so I can put a new shirt on you.”

You wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face. Fueled by arousal and spite, you imagined pulling the deer man into bed with you, tossing him over until you had him under you. You imagined straddling his skinny waist and letting him feel the results of his ‘cleaning up.’ With your hand still cupping your heated sex, you ground down on it only to gasp when something cool bumped into the back of your hand.

Breaking away from your fantasy, you spot Alastor’s staff under you, faintly buzzing with your lover’s magic. Again, you blamed it on your fever but having something of his right there as you imagined topping your arrogant radio man was too delicious to resist.

Taking your hand away from your sex, you positioned the length of the staff to align with your core and then lowered yourself down. The cold metal glided against your sex as you rubbed yourself on it. It was too thin but if you closed your eyes, you could imagine that you were holding your skinny deer man, rubbing yourself against his equally hard cock.

Fuck. It shouldn’t feel so good but it did. You swung your hips a bit to feel more of that length, the harsh metal rubbing at just the right places to send pleasure up and down your spine. The fantasy in your head shattered as something else replaced it.

You held onto the microphone tighter, pulling it closer to you as you imagined your Alastor walking in on this display. Coming in from a hard day’s work only to find you so desperately chasing release against his microphone. Could he hear the sounds you were making?

A moan escaped your lips. He would be so stunned. He didn’t know that you were this horny. He was always so proper and only recently accepted intimate contact. How could you tell him that you just wanted to rub yourself all over him? Feel the hard planes of his body against your skin. Push him down and ride his cock until he was a mess of screams and broken radio static. He was so sensitive, so new to sex. You wanted to ruin him for anyone else.

He’d never let you be on top though, too busy wanting to fuck you into the mattress. Gods, he was rough. He’d thrust with all his lithe body, wringing screams of want and desperate pleasure from you until you skull banged against the headboard. Then he’d kiss you to pin you in place.

Of course you wanted to do the same to him so why not start with this part of him? The mic had a capped bottom, giving you a lovely ridge to play with. Pushing the staff under you, you desperately humped against that ridge, delicious friction sending unimaginable thrills up your spine and all the way to your head until it was empty except for that pleasure.

“Alastor.”

The microphone head pressed into your chest, its ridges lightly rubbing against your skin and your nipples with each roll of your hips, shooting little jolts of ticklish pleasure through you. Ohh it felt so good. You gasped and moaned as you reached higher and higher peaks. Could Alastor hear what you were doing? The thing was always on so he probably could. Was he listening to you fuck yourself against his mic while sitting in a meeting, unable to leave? Were your cries throwing off his focus? Was he itching to come back home to you and see exactly what you were doing?

“Allll—“

Could he feel your heated sex as you pressed it against the length of his staff? The thing was a part of him after all. If so, how was he feeling right now? Scandalized? Aroused? Horrified? If he were here, would he push you away or take his microphone’s place? Either way, his clawed hand would have to grab you by your hips as you continued to gyrate against his staff. The ghostly sensations of his hands on you fueling the fire coursing through your veins. Fuck! You were so close.

You pinched your nipple as you ground down hard, your fingers joining the staff in teasing your sensitive sex, the pleasure building up until you tipped over the edge.

“Al! I—I’m coming!” You moaned into the microphone, wanting your lover to hear your pleasured cries, all cares gone with the wind as you rode your high into unconsciousness.

Alastor's POV

A meeting with the Princess of Hell was the last thing on his mind right now. A sick lover awaited him at home, needing to be cared for, but he was forced to come to this useless meeting instead. So very unfortunate. Given, the recent announcement of the new extermination timeline was a huge concern for the girl but that was honestly not his problem to worry about so long as the hotel and his business partner remained unscathed.

Needless to say, the princess was determined to ‘speed up’ what progress she could on getting their two guests to achieve redemption.

“Volunteer work idea! We can do volunteer work as part of our redemption path. Doing good deeds is part of being a good person, right? Well, we should help out some of the sinners in the territorial war districts.” Charlie raised up one of her hand drawn illustrations showing what he assumed to be the said territorial war zone. It depicted the hotel crew helping clean and bandage the wounded and helpless.

All so very trivial given those souls would respawn in time unless they were faced with Carmine weaponry. In that case, and in all cases really, those souls should have known what they were getting themselves into when battling for territory. He’d thought of a hundred ways the princess’ idea could go wrong and was about to suggest them when he heard a familiar voice ringing through his mind. He picked up the signal from his microphone.

“Al?” Voice hoarse from disuse, his little darling called out to him once you had woken up. How he wished he could come to your side right at that moment. The few times you had been coherent during this whole ordeal had been far too few and short. A hellish flu was so uncommon and there had been no ways to heal from it other than to wait it out.

He reevaluated what he needed to do. On one hand, he could be helpful and plan this whole redemption exercise for Charlie to ensure no trouble occurred. However, the princess took a very hands-on approach to things. Bringing up any problems would only prolong the meeting…He sighed internally. What to do?

With half an ear to the chattering princess, he focused the other half of his attention to whatever sounds his microphone could pick up. If anything alarming was transmitted, he was ready to shadow home as quickly as possible.

“…We can implement a buddy system. It’s a little dangerous to just go alone and…” Ah. For once, the princess recognized a flaw in her plan before he even had to mention it. Wonderful. She was learning to be a bet—

“Ah…oh..”

Any admiration he might have had for the princess’ awareness of the dangers her plan posed was halted by a breathy moan in his mind’s ear. Had you gotten hurt trying to move around? From how delirious you had been prior, he could imagine you falling off the bed trying to look for him or care for yourself. But he hadn't heard any noises indicating an accident.

Immediately, all his focus moved to his microphone, magick at the ready to bring him back. Charlie’s plans would have to wait. He was about to apologize to the princess and leave when another sound, a soft sigh of pleasure entered his mind.

What?

It was soft, so very soft, but your rhythmic breathing was steadily increasing in pace, dotted with little sighs and shy moans. He knew those sounds all too familiarly, aimed to bring them out as he played with your body most evenings. Surely…it wasn’t what he thought it was?

A high keening sound, muffled slightly and marred by the transmission’s static pierced his mind and smothered any doubt he had about exactly what he was hearing.

The sound of your whines rang in his ear, reverberating through his head like a dinner bell and awakening a hunger he’d only ever felt with you. Sinful little thing. You had to know that he could hear you with his microphone so close to you. You were doing this on purpose! His static crackled as your noises picked up.

Your muffled cries increased in volume and urgency as he could now hear the subtle rustling of bedsheets moving with you. Whatever fantasy had brought you to touch yourself, you were currently lost in.

He twitched as tendrils of arousal slithered their way into his veins. His wicked lover was casting a siren call, delirious, weak, deliciously vulnerable and obviously asking to be fucked.

He took a slow breath to cool the heat starting to rise in his body. Why did you start this now, of all times? He’d been with you for days before this! Your timing was terrible. Or maybe you had planned this, wanting him to come rushing to you as soon as possible. His teeth clenched in his smile.

Why was it that the first thing you did when you finally had the energy was to crave sexual fulfillment? To pleasure yourself when he wouldn’t be there to assist you?

It was debased and primitive of you. He wasn’t sure whether to be irritated by your lewd behavior or proud. But he did know that your little act was stirring things south of where was appropriate in front of the princess and her girlfriend. Keeping a neutral expression on his face, he shifted slightly where he stood by the princess’ desk. He needed to get them out.

In a bid to keep his composure, he played a little jig from his chest, something light and cheerful, a complete and total clash to the heat building below his belly. If he waited just a bit more…but Charlie looked ready to burst into song. He couldn’t have that.

“An excellent idea!” He chimed, cutting off whatever Charlie was saying. Both women turned to him, one in pleasant surprise and the other curious.

“Really?” Charlie sparkled at his half-serious agreement, throwing beams of sunshine from her eyes that only served to irritate him further. The heat running up and down his body made him even more impatient with the princess’ inane suggestions.

“Yes. Why don’t you scout out the perfect area for us to do this little venture. Have to ensure the safety of our guests, after all.” Before the women could get their bearings together, he was already gently pushing Charlie out the door, with her tail of a lover sure to follow. “Make a day trip of it, even. I’m sure there’s lots to see.”

“H..hnnnggh..!”

His smile almost cracked at the delicious whine that poured from your darling mouth. He wished he could be there to drink it up right at that moment. But composure. Composure. Disguising the sense of urgency pumping through his system with enthusiastic chatter about casualty statistics and needing to ensure they didn’t overstep into Overlord territories, he managed to get the two women out of the shared office space in record time.

“Have fun now, you two.” He waved them off, their faces a little bewildered but they didn’t really have much of a choice after he’d closed the door on their faces.

The door rattled in his haste but he managed to lock it quickly. He once again tried to summon his magick to bring him away when a croon reverberated through his chest.

“Alastorrrr…”

His breath caught.

Static ran up his spine to the roll of those pleasured r’s. He’d never admit to how his knees buckled at the sound, a unique quality he could only attribute to his darling. But it was different somehow. A wicked idea popped into his mind, the static filter in his love’s voice adding a certain flavor he’d never associated with sex before.

Making sure to seal the room so that not even a speck of dust could get in or out, he sat down on his chair. With a flick of his wrist, he transferred the transmission from his mind to the radio sitting at his desk. From there, your voice played.

“Don’t tease me, Al.”

“Oh but aren’t you doing the teasing here, darling?” He smiled deviously, imagining your face as he said so. You wouldn’t have heard him muse back. For what he had in mind, he’d made it a one-way broadcast purposefully.

Another sigh escaped your lips sending heat down to his already aching member. With deft hands, he unbuckled his belt, slowly easing himself out of his slacks. The hair of his navel stood on end at the rush of cold air hitting the sensitive skin. His cock stood ready and weeping from just the sounds of your debauchery. It was truly pathetic but you had that effect on him. He palmed himself briefly, imagining it was your hands taking him out of his clothes. Shy and careful. You were always very gentle with him. And it drove him mad with want.

Grabbing his cock, he started to stroke, slow at first, getting a bit faster as more of his precum leaked out. From the radio, he heard rustling. He could picture it then, your skin gliding in the sheets of your bed, a thin layer of sweat giving your flushed face a delectable shine. You writhed with want, unfulfilled and calling for him. Your labored breathing sounded lovely and lewdly through the radio.

He groaned, eyes closed as he pictured being there with you as you crawled over to him, hands greedy to stroke his member. The sheets rustled as they tugged at your knees, too eager to disentangle yourself from the blankets. Your hands delicately wrapped around his cock, face aglow as you admired it. You looked so ready to take it into your little mouth.

He hissed and stroked, slower this time to match his image of you. He licked his lips as his breathing quickened.

He’d never understood the appeal of listening to such filthy broadcasts. Saw it as a distasteful use of air time that could have been used for news, jazz or something else. He’d tried it once and could only grimace at the theatrical moaning of the actors at the station. The storylines were ridiculously shallow too.

But with you on the other side, a broadcast exclusive for his ears only…He shuddered, ears twitching to catch the lightest of sounds for his mind to work into fantasy. His hips thrust up into his hand, presenting you with a prize you so very much wanted. Naughty little thing.

The broadcast buzzed sharply, sending a jolt through his chest in shock. Something had hit the microphone. For a moment, his heart stopped, thinking that you did end up over extending yourself and collapsed. But just as quickly, a new sensation started.

“Fuck!”

His free hand rushed to gripped the armrest of his chair tightly. It was the only way he could channel the sudden rush that overtook his body, lest the hand squeezing his cock tighten too much. Something hot and moist pressed against his extension and he nearly choked at the sudden pressure.

He could feel it! A silky glide. He could feel you, your hot sex rubbing up and down against the shaft of his staff, his mind directing that sensation to his crotch. A shiver ran up his spine, the ghost sensations of your hands trailing along his staff being mirrored onto his body.

“Fuck.”

A similar curse whispered huskily through the radio. So he wasn’t the only one feeling sensitive. You moaned as he felt the corresponding brush of your sex against his staff, against him. Sweat collected on his brow as his body grew hotter in response. It was as if you were there with him.

“Ah—Alastor!”

“Yes, darling? Come and rut yourself on me. Let me feel you.” His free hand traced up his chest, claws mimicking the way you would slowly and intentionally trail your fingers up his body when you were being intimate. Tugging at his shirt teasingly, your hands lightly splayed against his chest. He arched his back into the touch. You knew how much he liked your touch. Always tracing lines along his shoulders, counting his ribs.

“Oh..” He groaned, hand moving faster along his cock as you found a steady rhythm to pleasure yourself to. He could feel the ghostly heat and slick of your fluids starting to smear and make a mess of his microphone. His thumb brushed the weeping red tip, paying close attention to smear his precum, imagining it was yours starting to coat his cock.

“Hmnngh. Al—feels good.”

“Does it, darling? Hn. You’re making a mess. I’ll have you clean that up, you know.” As if you could hear him, another pathetic whine squeaked through his radio feed. His static broke at the sound. “Yes. You’ll have to take responsibility for making it so filthy.”

He could feel his extension get crushed between your body and the mattress, your body heat getting relayed onto his own. You were so desperate to bed him, keening and moaning sloppily to a fantasy him of your own design. He did the same. His mental image of you bent down, face close to his cock, breath brushing teasingly over the sensitive tip, waiting for his command. He smirked through the buzz that ran through his body at the pathetic sight, concentration going blurry as lust took over.

“Use your mouth.”

Another high pitched whine. You bent low, static-filtered breathing feeling so close and warm on his cock. He summoned a tentacle to join his hand in working his member, its slimy texture a poor replacement for your tongue but…he growled at the first lick of it…good enough. As long as he thought it was you, it would be good enough. His teeth dug into his lip, stifling his groans as he guided ‘your tongue.’ A slow lick on each of his balls, up the underside of his cock, teasing the vein there that you knew he liked.

“That’s good, dear. Ah! So good. Let me reward you.”

His free hand twitched, imagining reaching for your hole, working you open slowly with his fingers. The silky walls of your cavern were a familiar sensation his brain provided in the absence of the actual thing. His fingers pushed in and out slowly, tracing the outer edges before dipping back in. Your moans were constant now, a never ending chant of your pleasure and his name. His head swam with sensations, imagined and transmitted. A part of him reveled in this pleasure you gave him, that you didn’t know he was partaking in.

“That’s it, darling. My darling doe. Take your pleasure…” He gasped, the muscles in his stomach growing taut as the coils of ecstasy wound themselves layer after layer. “…give me mine too. Make me cum with your mouth.”

From your sounds and the rough brushes of heat ghosting along his body, he could tell you were close, riding that fantasy of yours without reservation.

“Not yet, dear. Hnngh. Not..yet.” It was getting harder to breathe as his heart pounded, trying to reach that high while you were still going. He needed the stimuli. He craved it. He was so close. The wet heat from your body transmitted from his staff to his cock, your voice garbled pleasured sounds from his radio. So close. So close.

“Al! I—I’m coming!”

“Wait, darling. You can take a little more. Just a bit—”

But his plea didn’t reach you. He heard you scream directly into the microphone, so loud and amorous that his mind stuttered, worried that the sound ringing through the room would somehow escape and be heard by some passerby.

All at once, he lost the rhythmic strokes against his body as your undulating stopped. Your salacious broadcast had ended.

He rutted up into his hand furiously. He hadn’t finished yet, but he was so close, a bit feral as he tried to reach his own high now that you had achieved yours. But it was no use. His tentacle stroked precum and slime-slick pumps against his cock but without your voice, or even your ghostly touch, it felt like nothing. He growled, frustrated, slamming his hands against the armrests as he leaned back into his chair, defeated.

“Fuck!” What a tease! An absolute menace! He cursed you as he tried to calm himself, scrubbing his clean hand down his face. Massaging his temples, a realization dawned on him, reaching his orgasm was next to impossible now. He breathed deep.

But his blood still pumped in his veins, hot and wanting. He couldn’t regain his composure, too worked up. His hand reached to pull off his bow tie and free his neck to get some air. It didn’t help. You damned sinful temptation. He never had to suffer such irritating incidents like this before you. He growled and hissed, a primal aggression taking over.

This was why he had been happy to never feel these urges. It was crude, having his mind controlled by his lower body.

No matter, he would get you to fix it.

With one final deep breath, he stood and tidied his desk, making sure to leave nothing amiss. There was no point in tidying himself up. Not when he intended to make a mess of you in just a moment. At the thought, he decided to let you see the proud work you’d done on him. He took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. You liked seeing him disheveled, more casual as you put it. Your heartbeat always picked up at every little show of his skin.

It was with this appearance, top buttons undone and slacks clinging onto his hips by some work of demon magick that wasn’t his, that he teleported back home to you. He was ready to see your surprised face, flushed still from your orgasm and slightly disoriented. Then he’d fuck you back into your coma for daring to pull such a stunt in the middle of the day. He buzzed at the plan, cock aching once again.

When he’d stepped foot into your bedroom, the sight that greeted him was a disheveled lover, hand still in clutching onto his microphone as you dozed. Seeing you weak and asleep, the urgency in his body cooled slightly, worry taking its place. Immediately, he’d made it to the bedside, checking to see if you were alright.

Light breaths. A small sigh of relief escaped his lips before his stomach clenched to remind him of his current predicament. His eyes roamed your body, making sure you were alright. When nothing seemed amiss, his eyes narrowed in irritation. He’d suspected the possibility that you had passed out after your performance but the disappointment in seeing you unconscious still stung.

Up close, he could see you, feel you, smell you. You reeked of cum, having fainted as soon as you’d climaxed. How filthy. How divine. The scent was wonderful, heady and musky, traces of your activity still lingering in the air and on his microphone. The fire in his belly roiled to life once again. Stupid little thing. Making his life just that much more difficult and wonderful than it already was.

Precious, lewd little thing. His heartbeat quickened as the rush of lust came back. He’d had all intentions of taking out his frustrations on your more than willing body but seeing you like this, needing your rest, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t get his end. With one knee on the bed, he approached you, wanting to be as close as he could without disturbing your slumber. His hand found his needy cock once again, palm warm and inviting as he stroked from the base to tip. His other hand wound itself in your hair, gently petting you and relishing your warmth as his hand worked his member over your sleeping form.

His ears picked up the sound of your breathing, gentle and soft, just like everything about you. And you let someone like him defile that softness. He swallowed, drool already pooling in his mouth at the meal in front of him that he could not devour as he wished to.

The smell of your shared bed, your sex, your cum, your want lingering in the air. It enveloped him completely. This was his home. His den. His lover. His mate. While the little broadcast was exquisite, the live thing would always be better.

And he can wait for you to get better. Oh, all the things he would do to you once you were well. Just, he needed to take the edge off a little. He breathed in and let himself get lost in the feeling, the heat of his body rising and he got close to his climax again. His hips bucked into his hand, chasing that high as he watched your peaceful face. Shudders racked his body. He was so close. If only he could hear you call his name with that pretty voice of yours.

“Alastor?” His breath hitched. His hand had unconsciously clenched in your hair, not enough to hurt but it did stir you awake. His eyes met yours and his climax finally hit him under your stare. The knot in his stomach unwound and he watched his cum spurt without his control. Some of it splattered onto your bewildered face, causing you to flinch.

“D-did you just…?” A small hand went up to the new stains on your face, wiping the smear onto your fingers as you studied it as if you couldn’t comprehend exactly what it was. Fair enough. This wasn’t behavior he ever would have done before he met you. He was slightly embarrassed by that but there was something satisfying about seeing his cum on your cheek.

“Well, you did too, didn’t you?” A clawed hand carded through your hair, slightly smearing it with his spend though you were still too bewildered to notice. His voice was husky, still riding high as his body sang in completion. You blushed madly as you remembered what you’d done and why he was here, like this.

“T-that’s—“

“Hush. Don’t worry about it, darling. Though it did get me a little worked up.” With a few snaps of his fingers, you were both cleaned up and the bed made around you. It took more effort to do as all he wanted to was collapse next to you but no. He had to make sure you were comfortable before he did. As lovely a sight that you made, he wouldn’t let you rest in filth.

Neither of you spoke as he climbed to his side of the bed, sitting against the headboard while you looked at him from where you laid. Perhaps your stillness slowed your brain processes as well. You still seemed tense, shocked. He started petting your head, an action that calmed you just as much as it did him. He needed just a few moments.

When complete clarity finally returned to him, he faced you, a teasing grin on his lips as his eyes narrowed.

“I hope you know…” He leaned down to peer into your eyes, holding your gaze and relishing his lone figure reflected in its shine. His eyes roamed over your body, a slow take that he was sure you caught before he looked into your eyes and continued. Despite having only just finished, electric lust still buzzed in his chest, vibrating through his voice as he growled low a promise to the little troublemaker. “…that when you’ve fully recovered, darling, you shouldn’t expect to get out of this bed for a long while.”

Beneath his palm, you trembled, your little shakes traveling from his fingertips to his cock. Your eyes switched from confusion to dread, sensing the underlying threat and seduction in his tone. He traced a lazy pattern on your cheek, cupping the supple flesh to feel the fever induced heat. Like a demure little creature, you leaned into his touch.

And like the wretched little thing you were, you casually drew his thumb into your hot mouth, all of that sweet dread replaced by even sweeter confidence. With eyes never leaving his own, you gave his thumb a bold slow lick. He held back the urge to press his thumb down into that lascivious tongue.

“Looking forward to it…” The tease had the gall to smirk at him, teeth lightly prickling his captured appendage. Clarity and mirth sparkled in your eyes. “Lover.”

AO3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader #smut #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader

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trippinsorrows · 2 days

Text

with me + part 4

authors note: the love and response to this story continues to absolutely floor me. you guys are all so sweet! i was nervous about posting, but everyone has made me feel so happy that i did, so thank you!

couple of hints about things sprinkled through this one. the more i write, the more things are getting fleshed out, so idk how many parts this will be atp, nothing too crazy though!!!

also, some tags don't seem to work for some reason, like when i type it, the hyperlink doesn't appear so super sorry to those impacted by that!!!

warnings: angst, fluff, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

word count: 5.8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion @shayaaaaaaa @usoholic @brokenglassslippers @gators-aid @dersha89 @southerngirl41 @empressdede

You couldn't eat.

Couldn't sleep.

Could barely think straight.

All that consumed you, ate at you, gnawed at your sanity was one thought and one thought alone.

He wanted to take her from you.

Joe wanted to take your daughter from you, your four year old daughter who still couldn't even go to sleep at night unless she got to see or speak to you.

The daughter who he'd only known existed just recently but was seemingly set on ripping away from you.

That thought destroyed you, made you raw from blistering agony at just the idea of not having Callie with you full time. It destroyed you to the point that you decided to throw some clothes on, hop in your car, and set your google maps for the hotel you knew he’d be staying at. Damn the fact that it was the middle of the night or that you were stupid as hell for being in that situation in the first place. None of that mattered.

You needed to talk to him, and you needed to talk to him now.

Joe opens the door with a forceful swing, looking as irritated and disheveled as you’d expect one to look at nearly 1am in the morning. However, when his eyes land on you, confusion meshes with irritation. “Y/N?”

“Hi.” It’s said in a breathy tone. You're struggling to remember the script you rehearsed the whole drive there. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late—”

“What the..….” He sighs heavily and steps aside, motioning for you to come in. “Get in here.”

You don’t need to be told twice, looking around the hotel room that looks so plain and undeserving of someone with Joe’s stature. But, you also know this area isn’t exactly saturated with 5 star hotels, far from it. This is probably the most elite one he could find with such short notice, and it’s not bad at all, just….basic.

He clears his throat, and you return your attention to the man who you just realized is also shirtless. If not for the pending mental breakdown you’re fighting to keep at bay, it would be extremely distracting. Joe is a lot of things, and fine as hell is at the top of that list.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He sounds exhausted, and you can’t tell if it’s from the argument earlier that day or being woken up in the middle of the night. Probably both.

“I just—I need to talk to you.”

“Now?”

Nodding, you continue. “I know….I know I messed up, okay? I should have told you, but I just—I need you to look at it from my perspective. I need you to just hear me out, and if—if you still feel the same way, then–then I’ll have to deal with that….but please.”

He’s leaning back against the dresser, arms crossed, taking time to answer as he weighs your offer. Finally, he concedes, “you came all the way over here. I’m not just gonna send you away.”

You’re thankful for him being willing to at least hear some of what you have to say. “Callie.....she was conceived the last time we were together.” Not sure if that part was necessary or the best way to start out, you quickly move on to the next point. “I didn’t find out I was pregnant until two months later. And on top of not knowing what the fuck to feel, I barely knew what to do. I was pregnant by a married man that I’d been sleeping with for three years. A married, famous man at that. Who I finally decided I needed to move on from.”

Revisiting this is harder than you expected, harder than when you rehearsed it on your drive here. “I was scared, Joe, okay? I was scared, so I—I did what I thought was best at that time, and clearly it was wrong. I 100% own up to that, and you get to be angry with me, but you don’t get to let that anger influence your decision making, because it is.”

This is the part you debated so deeply on whether to say or not say, to potentially poke the already irate bear. But, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t speak up for yourself and your daughter. “You want a legal custody arrangement, and I understand why, but—Joe, your name isn’t even on her birth certificate, but to tell you the truth…..I wanted it to be. I did.” Whether he believes you or not is on him, but it’s true. Because while he wasn't present in her life, he was still her father. Nothing would change that. “They wouldn’t do it without you present and without a paternity test—”

“I could have been there,” he interrupts, sounding more hurt than anything. “I should have been there.”

“You’re right, but you weren’t, and I’m sorry for that too. I’m not trying to make any excuses here, just lay out facts. And the fact is that you can get a paternity test, you can establish paternity, and you can try to secure joint custody, but we both know there’s no way you can take her on. You work nonstop, Joe, and she can’t be on the road like that. She’s four for fucks sake. Calista needs stability, and she has that with me. You know I’m right.”

And you can see that he sees you’re right, the wheels turning in his head as he takes in your sound predictions.

“And I know you don’t right now, and that’s okay, but I am asking you to please trust me enough to know that I will not get in the way of you getting to know Calista. Trust that I only want what’s best for her, I’ve only ever wanted what was best for her.”

“Why should I?” Despite his words, you can see and hear the crumbling of his defenses, of the brick and mortar wall he'd erected earlier during the first round of this conversation. “What’s different now?”

“Because she asked about you.” This is the part that crushes you the most, that makes you wonder if you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself for even putting her in that situation. “Because she thinks you’re not in her life because she’s not a good girl, and I will not have my child grow up thinking she wasn’t good enough for her father to want to be in her life.”

You won’t let her grow up like you.

Period.

Having this discussion, saying these things aloud, you’re slowly starting to recognize how some of your own unaddressed issues have contributed to this situation. How your refusal to confront buried trauma has bled into another generation. It’s…..uncomfortable, to say the least.

And something you definitely need to revisit, probably sooner rather than later. Just…not right now.

You’ve got to sort this through first.

It’s after a few minutes of silence that he finally speaks, voice surprisingly calm. “You’re right.” You let out a deep breath, nearly falling back at his words. You knew he was wavering but not to the point where he would yield. “I know….I know our situation is complicated, and I’m sorry for being so cold with you. I just—fuck, I don’t know how to process all of this.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Neither do I, but we can figure it out, because we can’t…..we can’t put her through a custody battle. I won’t do that.” Despite your very valid facts, you also recognize that while he probably wouldn’t win, he has access to the best legal team money can buy and would outlast you in court by miles.

You won’t say it aloud, not even sure if you can, but you’d soon rather concede than put her through that. You’d give him whatever he asked for if it meant sparing her from that trauma.

It’s a far cry from your stance hours earlier, but time and actually thinking things through made you realize the pain you’d experience at having Callie taken from you would be nothing compared to what that experience would do to her. You know custody disputes can be long and nasty, and though she was still young, you didn’t want to find out if they would question her.

You’d sacrifice your soul and surrender.

You loved her enough to let her go.

“You’re right.” He repeats himself, even and calm. It’s such a stark difference for both of you compared to the blowup from earlier. There’s actual communication occurring, talking with each other, instead of at each other. Listening to hear, not to react. “I—I couldn’t do that to you. I spoke out of anger. My schedule is crazy and she needs stability. You give her that.”

There’s an insurmountable amount of relief that washes over you at his words. It’s night and day from the angry—though rightfully—man that stood before you earlier today. And you couldn’t be more grateful.

“Thank you.” There aren’t enough words to adequately express the depth of your gratitude. Joe is well within his right to be upset, and like you said, you’ll take whatever that is, so long as the both of you can agree that Callie being with you is for the best. For her, but for you too. You won’t deny that. Your daughter is your life, and the thought of being without her, even for a period of time makes you sick to your stomach. “I–” You wipe your eyes, completely unaware that you’d been crying at one point, the tears starting to dry up. “I’m taking off work tomorrow and keeping her home. You…you can come over once I pick her up from Mariah's."

His eyes light up with appreciation that matches your own for his willingness to look past his feelings to do what’s best for your child. “Yeah?”

You offer a small smile. “I’ll probably get her around 10 and text you when you can head over.”

He nods, and the excitement in his expression warms you. It’s so strange how you can go through so many emotions in such a short time regarding the man in front of you. He always has been able to evoke things out of you that no one else could.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

The way he takes you in, assessing you, it makes you shift your weight from one foot to another. Your hoodie suddenly feels too heavy, warmth climbing up to your cheeks. “I—” You gesture to the door with your thumb. “I should head out.”

It’s when you turn to leave that he grabs your wrist to stop you.

“Where are you going?”

Your brow lifts at his tone and words, confused by the quick change and his hand on your arm. “Umm, home?”

“Like hell you are.” His dismissal is firm and final as he informs, “you'll crash here tonight.” Your face must be painted in defiance, because he explains, “it's almost 2 in the morning, and you look exhausted. I'm not letting you get on the road. Anything could happen.”

“Joe—”

He lifts his hand, silencing you as he points to the middle of the room. “You can take the bed. It's uncomfortable anyway.”

Ironically, a small yawn escapes, further proving his point. You are exhausted, in several different ways. The idea of driving back home right now is not nearly as appealing as sleeping off the day's events. “Okay.” Remembering his comment, you add, “you could have picked one of those fancy hotels ya'll stay in, you know.”

“I don't think there's anything ‘fancy’ within 30 miles of here.” He's not entirely wrong, the town's local steakhouse is considered the definition of fine dining and hotspot for special occasions.

“There were once rumors of a Hilton being built.”

He looks almost hopeful. “When was that?”

You bite down on your lip. “When I was in middle school.” A small laugh escapes at his look of exasperation.

“You should take the bed. It's gotta be more comfortable than the alternative.” Truly, because the idea of Joe's big ass trying to sleep on a damn fold out sofa is both hilarious and tragic. “I just need a shirt.”

He looks at you. “A shirt?”

“Yeah.”

“Because…..”

Rolling your eyes, you tug at your old college hoodie. “I can't sleep in this. It's uncomfortable as hell. I dress light at night. You know—” And you stop yourself, because he shouldn’t remember that you always sleep in either a big shirt or thin top and shorts, never more, oftentimes nothing at all when he was in town.

For obvious reasons.

You’re grateful when he turns away and digs through his bag, probably the only one he took with him. He always traveled lightly. He comes back, reaching you one of his black t-shirts.

“Thanks.” Accepting the item, you walk over to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Standing in the mirror, you take in your appearance. Joe was being nice by saying you look exhausted, cause you look like shit, every bit of the days events, loud and blaring. Blowing out a breath, you start removing your clothes but pause when you go to remove your bra.

Is that….is that too much? You haven’t slept in a bra in years. Not since puberty randomly hit you over the summer between freshman and sophomore year, where you went from a modest A cup to a whopping D. And post Callie body definitely wasn’t a D anymore. It just seems….it seems indecorous.

Deciding to go with safe instead of sorry, you swallow your discomfort and keep your bra on. With the hair tie on your wrist, you do your best to pineapple your hair, knowing good and well it’ll be frizzfest when you wake up but not really caring.

Another yawn leaves your mouth as you walk out the bathroom only to turn into a scowl as you find Joe sitting on the sofa on his phone.

If it wasn’t so late and you weren’t so tired, you’d argue with him why it’s stupid of you to take the bed. He’s at least a foot taller than you. But, you don’t have it in you so just mutter “stubborn asshole,” place your folded clothes on the dresser, and climb into the bed.

You double check your alarm is still set for the right time and lean across the bed to place it on the nightstand. There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you for a couple of minutes, your eyes closing as you try to sleep, even if for a couple of hours before you have to get back on the road.

“What is she like?”

Your eyes open at his question, unexpected but understood. You think about it, wondering how to answer, how to explain all of the wonderful things that is your child. Finally, you settle on an answer, soft and honest.

“You'll find out for yourself tomorrow.” And turning on your side, you murmur, “goodnight, Joe.”

He doesn’t say anything after that.

But while you sleep with the hope of believing that this can be worked out between the two of you, Joe lies awake, taking his turn with mind running a mile a minute.

He knew this would be difficult, knew it was going to get ugly to some extent, but what he didn’t expect was how impacted he'd be by seeing you again.

There was a stark difference between seeing you in photos and seeing you in person. His anger at the situation helped him to not react as strongly, but not as much as he liked or needed it to.

Because regardless of all his outrage, he’d missed you.

Even with your deception, with your deceit and all of his confusing emotions toward you in this whole situation, he missed you.

Joe might not be ready to admit it aloud, but he’s never gotten over you. And not for lack of trying. He’d had a period where he tried to fuck away his feelings, tried to busy himself in between the legs of other women, his favorite distraction when he was in his twenties. Tried to remind himself that it was never meant to turn into anything anyway, that it wasn’t a big deal. But his efforts were fruitless and a waste of time.

He cared about you, he cared about you, arguably, more than he’d ever cared about a woman. Even….even Jadah.

The night you ended things was still a sore spot for him, still something he plays over in his head trying to make sense of. On the surface level, it’s pretty plain and simple. You wanted more, he couldn’t give it to you, so you moved on. 1+1. He was legally married for fucks sake. He couldn’t blame you for wanting more, but there was also a part of him that wondered why you didn’t just ask him for more.

Then again, that went both ways. Why didn’t he ask you for more?

It’s easy to say it was because of Jadah, because of his marriage, and that was both true and untrue. On his part, anyway. Divorce was easy in name but far from it in every other area. And for him, meant being forced to confront demons he tried his best to keep at bay. Up until two months ago, at least

Joe closes his eyes. This is all too much.

He came here ready to confront you, and he had, in fucked up way, even if partially deserved. He came here to meet his daughter, to begin to form a bond with her, and he will do that. He just has to push the complicated feelings for you to the side and place them on the backburner until he can sort through that mess.

Calista is his priority right now. Whatever this is between you and him can be figured out later.

Hopefully.

________

“She can be shy until she gets to know you.”

The day seems to have escaped you, getting on the road early in the morning to drive back and prepare to pick up Callie. She’s thrilled to see you, and vice versa. The two of you spend the beginning of the morning together, stopping at a local diner to share a breakfast before heading back to your apartment. You spend a little more time together, one on one, before texting Joe to head over, staying true to your word.

Especially since he informed you that he had to fly out tomorrow morning. You expected as such, knowing he’d probably already been gone longer than higher ups liked. He could only push the limits so much.

You don’t even have to be looking at him to know he’s nervous, an understandable but strange thing. Weird almost. Joe’s a lot of things, but nervous has never been one of them. “But once she gets comfortable, she won’t shut up.” That makes him smile, and you’re grateful for that. Sure enough, you find Callie in her playroom, which used to be your office space, but the more spoiled she became from your mom, the more you realized her room was too small for all of her stuff. “Hey, Callie Bear.”

Callie looks up, smile bright as she runs over to you. You lean down to meet her hug. She gives the best, loving hugs. “I’m making you something, mommy.”

You gasp. “You are? Well, I can’t wait to see it.”

“It’s a surprise, so no peeking!” She lifts her little finger, wagging it in your face. Laughing, you nod and push back some of her curls. Callie’s eyes then land on Joe’s massive frame standing near the doorway, silently observing. You can see the emotions so clearly on his face: surprise, shock, happiness.

Callie’s smile dims as she moves closer to you, holding you close, her stranger danger kicking in. A small part of you is grateful that even at almost five, she knows to be cautious. Then there’s the other part of you that’s saddened at the fact that the “stranger” she’s cautious of is her own father. “Baby, this is….this is….”

“I’m Joe,” he finishes for you, and you’re both grateful and annoyed. Conflicted because a small part of you wanted to be the one to tell her, but also grateful he ironically took that responsibility off of you. “I’m an old friend of your mom’s.”

Welp.

That’s not….that’s not what you expected him to say, not what you two discussed. It wasn’t explicitly stated, but you were under the impression that they would tell her the truth. His statement isn’t exactly a lie, you did once consider Joe to be a friend, much more than that, but still. Joe’s role in Callie’s life is significantly more than that.

This seems to ebb away some of Callie’s caution as she asks, “really?” Her eyes fall on you, almost looking for approval. With a tight smile, you nod, giving her the relief she needs to loosen her hold on you. “Do you like Disney?” That causes you to genuinely laugh, something your sweet child definitely inherited from both you and your mom was a love of Disney.

“I do,” he answers, and you pause. Does he really? Perhaps. Regardless, it’s a smart answer for your Disney loving child. “Do you?”

Callie nods happily, grabbing your arm and twisting it to show the ‘remember who you are’ tattoo on your wrist. “Mommy and grandma have Disney tattoos, and mommy’s gonna get a Moana one for me!”

“Really?” Joe, now crouched down to be at her eye level, sounds genuinely interested, and maybe he is. Callie is impressively charismatic at only four. She’s also his daughter who he’s wanting to develop a relationship with, so it’s not far-fetched that she could be talking to him about the rate at which grass grows, and he would entertain it like he was watching a 49ers game. “You like Moana?”

Is water wet? “She’s the bestest! Right, mommy?”

You chuckle, fixing her shirt. “She watches it almost every day.” You always found it interesting, ironic even, that your daughter instantly gravitated to Moana, unaware that the voice of freaking Maui is her cousin, that she too had pacific islander ancestry. Through her dad. The dad you kept from her.

“You know I don’t know if I’ve seen that one—”

Callie’s mouth drops open as she looks at you, “mommy, can we watch it? Please? Please? Pleeeeaaassseeee?”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you relent after pretending to think about it. You like to limit her screentime to two hours, and even though she already watched The Princess and the Frog earlier for the 97th time this month, there was no way you were not gonna allow this bonding opportunity.

Squealing, Callie surprises you by breaking away and moving over to Joe, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go, Joe!” She pulls on the sleeve of his hoodie, probably to lead him into the living room where Disney Plus is signed in.

Alone in her playroom, you run over what just happened. You thought you would tell her the truth, tell her that this is the father she was asking about, the one she thought didn’t want her when in actuality, he wanted to know everything there was to know about her.

And for a second, you get pissed off. Why wasn’t Joe honest with her? Isn’t this what he wanted? To be in her life. It’s confusing. He is confusing. But….you try to give him the benefit of the doubt, certain that he must have some reason behind his actions. You just hope they’re damn good reasons.

“Mommy!” You know that tone of hers, the tone that tells you a request is to follow.

You shout back, “yes?”

“Joe likes popcorn too! Can we have some?”

You laugh and shake your head, shouting out an ‘okay’. Walking out of the room and into the living room, you find Callie near the TV, arm outstretched as she explains every detail of Moana, even the most obvious ones. But, Joe is sitting on the sofa, watching and listening intently. His smile is stapled.

He looks…..he looks so happy.

Moving into the kitchen, you move around quietly to not interrupt and to get their popcorn made.

Waiting for the popcorn to finish, you hear Callie ‘whisper’ to Joe, “Mommy can’t cook, but she makes good snacks.”

Amid his laughter, you walk near the living room, hands on her hips. “I heard that, little ms. ma’am.”

“That’s what Grandma says,” Callie defends with a shrug of her little shoulders. “She says mommy is pretty and smart and funny, but she burns water.” She looks off, confused, as if it’s finally registering to her that that doesn’t make sense. “Mommy, how do you burn water?”

Joe is on the sofa, hand over his mouth, fighting for his life. You also can’t help but laugh at the absolutely serious look on her face. “Finish your movie.”

The microwave dings, so you grab two bowls and fill them up equally. Delivering them to both, you place hers on the coffee table as she’s back to narrating. “Popcorn, as requested.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes go wide with excitement as she suddenly asks, “will you watch it with us?”

Damn. You had a feeling she would ask but was hoping she wouldn’t. Disappointing her twice in one weekend felt criminal. “Callie, I'm super behind with work.”

“Pleeeeasssseeee.” She starts with the begging again and then looks at Joe to inform him, “mommy’s a teacher. Do you have a job?”

Joe chuckles. “I do.”

“What do you do?” She asks in a sing-song tone. You give him that ‘I told you she never shuts up’ look.

“I’m a professional wrestler.”

She’s clearly intrigued, asking, “are you actually good?”

“Callie!” This little girl and her lack of filter sometimes never ceases to amaze you. Your mom swears up and down it’s your payback from how blunt you were as a child.

You’re starting to believe it.

Joe gives a shrug, clearly loving every bit of this. You can tell he wants her to keep the questions coming. He’ll answer em’ all if it means getting to spend time with her. “I’m alright.”

At that, you give him a look and crouch down to her level. “He’s very good.” You take the remote and quickly pause the TV, adding on, “matter of fact, he’s the universal undisputed champion.” Joe gives you a look, and you can tell he’s surprised by you knowing this piece of information.

You don’t watch wrestling as much as you used to, partially due to what happened between the two of you, mostly because you don’t have the time, but even non-wrestling people know about Roman Reigns and his current, historic title reign. You’re not sure if you’d feel entirely comfortable saying it to him, but you’re massively proud of Joe and all he’s accomplished. You always knew he could do it.

Her eyes widen with excitement and curiosity as she looks at Joe for clarification. “Really?”

“That is true.”

Head tilted, she moves away from you and climbs on the sofa to sit next to him. Her little legs crossed over as she continues with the questions. “What does undis—undis—”

He helps her out, also angling his body more toward her. “Undisputed?”

“Yeah! What does that mean?”

You can see he’s taking a minute to decide how to answer. “It means I don’t lose. Ever.”

“Whoooaaaa,” she breathes, obviously impressed. “You must eat a lot of veggies. I don’t like them, but mommy says they make you big and strong.”

“Your mom is right,” he agrees and looks her over. “You’re a very smart little girl. How old are you again? Like 15?”

“No, I’m four!” She giggles and lifts up four fingers. “But, I’ll be five on May 19th!”

His gaze softens. “Your birthday is in May?” She nods, happily. His smile is warm, emotional. “So is mine.”

You still for a moment. You hadn’t even thought about that, that her birthday was just days away from his. There’s something strangely sweet and moving about this fact, both to you and definitely to him.

“Really?”

And that’s how it plays out for the rest of the day, a combination of Callie’s incessant questions, intermittent viewing of Moana and parts of Encanto. Lunch and dinner sprinkled somewhere in between. You’re even able to sneak off to do your lesson planning, Callie more than fine with just Joe to entertain her.

It warms your heart to see them connect almost instantaneously.

It’s why you wait as long as you can to interrupt, never wanting to do so, to invade their moment. But, you also know your daughter, know that she needs a certain amount of sleep to function the next day. And when you check in on them and catch her yawning, you know it’s unfortunately that time.

Sighing, you enter the living room with your arms crossed. “Callie Bear, it’s time to start getting ready for bed, mamas.”

“Nooo.” She whines. “I’m not tired.” Her groggy voice and scowl would indicate otherwise.

“Of course, you’re not.” You bend down in front of her and reach for her hand. “Come on, we gotta tell Joe bye. He’s gotta get back to his hotel.” Despite her obvious objections, she climbs off the sofa and accepts your hand but not before looking at him.

“Will you come over again tomorrow?” She asks with hopeful eyes and a voice of excitement, both things that make being honest with her that much harder.

He obviously doesn’t want to give her the truth, but it’s better than the alternative. With a frown, he answers, “I wish….but I’ve gotta get back to work tomorrow, Callie.”

Her smile drops, and sadness arises. “Why? Do you have to go?” Her quiet voice is comprised of disappointment and despondency. You can tell it hurts him. Her hope is dashed, replaced with sadness. “When will you come back?”

“As soon as he can.” You jump in to assist, hating the way he looks so devastated not having a specific date for her. Truth be told, you wouldn’t be surprised if he won’t be able to get away for another few weeks, if not more. “And you know what, you can use my iPad to Facetime him when he’s available anytime you want.”

Her eyes light up. “Really?”

“Of course,” he assures. He reaches to push some hair out of her face. “I’ll call you whenever I can.”

She gives him a small smile. “You promise?”

Joe swallows. “I promise, sweetheart.”

Pleased and obviously ecstatic at this information, she surprises the both of you by tearing her hand from you to throw her little arms around him for an unexpected hug. You’re not sure why, but the sight makes your eyes water. His eyes close as he gently wraps his arms around her as well. You look away, almost uncomfortable interrupting this moment between the two of them.

When she pulls away, you swear you see disappointment reappear in his eyes. “Bye, Joe.”

She returns to your side, and you gently direct her, “go put on your jammies and pick out a book. I’ll be right there in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay, mommy.” Without protest, she turns and heads back to her room. When it’s just the two of you, you turn to him, “she really likes you.” It feels silly saying such a thing. He’s her father. She should like him. She should love him.

But you also know better than anyone that being someone’s biological parent doesn’t automatically make them a parent.

“That’s why you didn’t tell her, isn’t it? You want to gain her friendship first.” In watching and participating in the interaction between them, it dawned on you just why he didn’t tell her right away. Joe wanted to first establish a baseline with Callie, wanted her to get to know him just for him, to bond with him not because he was her dad, but because she wanted to.

And clearly….clearly it worked.

“She’s amazing,” he whispers. You see he’s still caught up in the emotion of it all, meeting his daughter for the first time, connecting with her as quickly and easily as he has.

“She is,” you agree, suddenly remembering why you’d dismissed Callie. “I–I uhh, I have something for you.” Standing back up—your knees were gonna hate you tomorrow—you pull the thumbdrive out of the back pocket of your jeans. He also stands with you. “I was that new mom who was intent on documenting every single thing my kid did, and I’m kinda glad I did now.” You reach and drop it in his open palm. “I got everything on video. Her first word, first time crawling, first time walking….all of it.” Suddenly uncomfortable with his silence, you add on, “I know it’s not the same as being there, but—”

“Thank you.” he interrupts in a quiet voice, immensely grateful to you at this moment. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Emotion seems to be the keyword of the day, because yours are also all over the place, for a variety of reasons. It’s an experience that’s both overwhelming and confusing, but also….nice? You can’t necessarily describe it, but there’s something comforting about Joe having a role in Callie’s life.

But that doesn’t equate with your decision to not tell him about her in the first place, hence why you’re a hot ass, confused mess.

He’s making you feel things again, and you don’t like it.

“I know getting back here won’t be easy, especially with the holidays rolling around. But, whenever you can come, you’re welcome. I mean it.” Thanksgiving is less than 3 weeks away. You’re highly doubtful he’ll be touching down before then. “Christmas is her favorite holiday. I know she’d love to have you here for that.”

“I’ll be back before Christmas and for Christmas.” You don’t know how, but you do know he’s convinced of it, and you don’t put it past him. He seems entirely determined.

“Okay.” You walk him to the door, unsure why your bodies being so close to each other is an uncomfortable yet pleasing feeling. “Oh,” you suddenly remember something. “You need to make a Snapchat account.”

He scowls almost instantly. “A what?” A small laugh escapes you at his instant disgust. “I’m too old for that shit.”

“We both are, but it’s an easy way for me to share Callie and all her randomness with people. Make it and send me the username. I’ll add you.” It seems all it takes is for you to mention Callie, and he’s sold. He nods in agreement, all distaste washed away with the eagerness of receiving photos and videos of Callie on the regular. You keep your hand on the door, chewing on your lip, murmuring, “Goodnight, Joe.”

He gives you a look, something unspoken in his eyes. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Closing the door behind you, you lock it and take a deep breath, unsure why your stomach is in knots. Not from anxiety or fear but happiness.

You’re happy to have Joe back in your life, even with all of the bullshit that’s transpired in this single day. There’s something relieving about having him around, and you know it’s for Callie. It needs to be just for Callie, because what you can never do again is allow yourself to fall back into that situation.

No matter how badly your heart and your head are clashing right now.

No matter how much you're starting to wonder if your heart ever really left that situation.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #aris notebook #roman reigns fic #roman reigns

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modelbus · 1 day

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I swear after this I will do requests... this is just something old for me to put up! I've had a busy past few weeks and I swear I'm fighting to do my requests. Disclaimer: I haven't played COD, and reality is what I decide (kidding, feel free to educate me on COD)

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Gn!Reader

Romance Readings

It was a guilty pleasure, and you knew it. Watching your money drain (as if you had any other need for it) as you indulged was saddening, but not saddening enough to make you stop. Other people got into drugs, or smoking, or alcohol, or some other high-inducing thing. Not you, though.

You got into romance novels.

The enjoyment of them started when you were a kid, curled up on a couch with a book splayed across your legs. Romance was, at its core, an idealized concept. Something to be chased but never obtained. And for you, the chasing was in reading about the relationships. You preferred the good - who doesn't? - but a bit of angst never hurt a soul. Certainly not you.

But in the military, you couldn’t exactly tout a romance book around. “The Seven Year Slip” was adorned with a cute and cartoony cover, sure to catch Soap’s eye and invite endless teasing. So, instead, you got clever about it. Price had a plethora of bookshelves in his office, filled to the brim with war books. All nice and shiny hardcovers with removable dust jackets.

All you had to do was slip one of those dust jackets over the cover, and it suddenly seemed like you were the best soldier ever. Everyone was none the wiser, and you got to indulge in what you enjoyed doing: smiling at the fictional couples you wish you were.

When you pulled it out to sit guard over the safehouse, Soap had groaned. Loudly.

“You take this soldier shit too seriously.” He had grumbled, rolling his eyes. You didn’t retort, didn’t bring attention, didn’t care enough.

His (mostly joking) opinion wasn’t important to you. Soap was nice, you loved joking with him, but when it came to this? You can put up with the teasing comments over what they think your reading habits are. God forbid they actually find out what you’re reading.

That’d be a very shit day for you.

“Never seen someone smile so much at a military tactic handbook.”

Your head jerks up, eyes wide, smile vanishing from your face. You knew that gruff voice, although you were far more used to it without the tilt of amusement in it. Ghost.

“...It’s riveting.” You say defensively, knowing Ghost isn’t the type to make a quip and let it go.

“I’m sure. I don’t remember it having characters, though.”

Oh. Oh shit.

You’ve been caught.

“Can’t believe you got away with it for this long.” Ghost huffs, sitting down next to you. “Hand it over.”

Wordlessly, you hold the book out for him. He thumbs through the pages, keeping a finger on the page you were on so you don’t lose your place. After a moment he slips off the fake dust jacket, holding up the real cover: a cheesy image of dandelions being blown away.

“Could be worse.” He notes aloud.

“...there have been worse.” You admit, cheeks flushing red.

He chuckles, going back to the page you were reading. It’s only after a minute has passed that you realize he’s fucking reading it, making you lunge for the book to pull it away.

“Don’t read it!” Carefully, you slide the fake dust cover back onto it to hide the actual book.

“I’m bored out here, and you’re denying me the only entertainment?” Ghost asks, somehow monotone and amused at the same exact time.

You hate him. Next time he’s getting his ass kicked in the field, you won’t help that asshole.

“It’s a romance book.” You spit, actively feeling your cheeks get redder by the second. “Hardly something you’re interested in.”

“I’m interested in not fallin’ asleep. I’m reading it.”

“It’s my book!”

“And I could tell everyone it’s a romance book.”

You stare at him, and he stares back. Ghost is blackmailing you. You’re getting fucking blackmailed over a book. Was it even worth it at this point?

“I’m still trying to read it. And no, you can’t read it aloud.” You try feebly, but your grip on the book is already loosening.

“I’ll read over your shoulder. Move it.”

“Ass.” You grumble, but shift so he can loom over your shoulder ominously. Settling your eyes on your book, you choke on air at the scene you’re on.

It’s definitely not a scene you’d want Ghost reading over your shoulder for, that’s certain. Your headstrong lieutenant, reading a rated-R scene. You’re never going to be able to look him in the eye again, oh God.

“Keep reading, doll.” Ghost says lowly into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “You dug the grave. Lie in it.”

Swallowing, you focus on the book, trying to speed-read through this part. Behind you, you can practically feel Ghost grinning. “What if I wasn’t done reading the page?” He asks.

“Shut the fuck up.”

#cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost simon riley

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xileonaaaa · 13 hours

Note

Hii I loved the way you characterised Choso in ur last fic. Mind doing husband headcannons? Or nsfw headcannons if you allow it? 💖 thank you 💖💖

Hiiii, I would love to! Thank you for being my very first ask 💕. Instead of him starting off as your husband, I went with the longer approach. Hope you enjoy!

Thinking of Husband!Choso

He’s still his same old self, but now he has that much needed confidence boost, because you are his, and he is yours.

•────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

Hubby!Choso who didn’t even know that he would soon take on the role of being your husband.

Hubby!Choso who acted like your husband before he even got the official title. He’d do things for you that most normal boyfriends just wouldn’t do on an everyday basis. For example, waking up at the crack of dawn every morning just to make you breakfast, or coming home early just so he could cook your favorite meal for you. (It’s not like he did those things only on special occasions, no he did them every. single. day.)

Hubby!Choso who literally looked at you sideways when you told him that he might as well just become your husband after breakfast one morning. (He didn’t quite understand your logic, because to him, he was treating you the best he could, because he knew you deserved nothing but the best.)

Hubby!Choso who couldn’t seem to shake the thought of what marriage to you would be like. (He often thought about how you’d look walking down that aisle, with your beautiful dress flowing behind you, as you smiled at him, while he tried his best to hold back tears of joy.)

Hubby!Choso who wondered if he was really worthy of being by your side indefinitely. A half human such as himself?

Hubby!Choso who let his thoughts continue to fester, till the point where he began to literally see signs everywhere he went. For example, nightly trips to the grocery store while you were still at the school, suddenly turned into a sea of married couples, swooning over each other, and flashing their matching rings. Some couples even had children in the front sections of their carts, and Choso couldn’t help but wonder what that would be like to experience.

Hubby!Choso who realized that marriage life wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows. He found that right as he was about to make his decision on whether or not to propose to you, he started seeing the more sour side of marriage. Affairs behind the partners back, relationships just somehow burning out, fights, you name it, and he’d most definitely seen it somewhere.

Hubby!Choso who laid off the idea of proposing for a while. He wasn’t sure if he was being selfish for wanting more from you, for wanting to call you his wife. (The thought of you being referred to as ‘his wife’ made him go out one evening to purchase a ring, because why not? He could just call you his wife in his head, because it wasn’t like he was going to slip that ring onto your pretty finger any time soon right?….right???) Wrong.

Hubby!Choso who then began to see this warm aura surrounding you, quite literally making you glow, and shine in every little thing you did. Sometimes, your little glow would be so mesmerizing, he’d stop whatever it was he was doing to just quietly stare at you. It was times like these he’d slip a hand into his pocket, and twirl the ring he’d bought for you, around in his fingers.

Hubby!Choso who spent alot of time thinking, and planning about seriously proposing to you. (His little fantasy wasn’t exactly doing it for him anymore.)

Hubby!Choso who spent so much time thinking, that he didn’t even notice he was causing you to worry, until you spoke up one night, after dinner.

Hubby!Choso who felt his eyes widen as you poured your heart out him, questioning him on his very odd, and standoffish behavior. He didn’t think he was acting any differently. (He was.)

Hubby!Choso who couldn’t help but try to explain himself without giving away the fact that he was seriously going to propose to you very soon.

Hubby!Choso who started going in circles, ranging from one excuse to another. He couldn’t lie to you, he just physically couldn’t. So when he saw your expression starting to turn into that of hurt, he took a deep breath and got down on one knee. (He wanted his proposal to be more extravagant but as unplanned, and unorganized as this was, he genuinely couldn’t wait to call you his anymore.)

Hubby!Choso who noticed the very abrupt change in your facial expression the minute he took a delicate hold of your right hand, massaging your fingers with his own while he gently smiled up at you.

Hubby!Choso who proceeded to explain the reason behind his very strange behavior, and how your one sentence about marriage had led him down a rabbit hole.

Hubby!Choso who had watched over a dozen marriage proposal videos, still found himself fumbling for the right words.

Hubby!Choso who couldn’t help but feel his stomach twist and turn into knots as he told you in the softest voice he could muster, just how good, and comfortable you made him feel.

Hubby!Choso who never once looked away from your gaze when he asked you if you would marry him. He found himself smiling ever so softly as he listened to your excited squeals of happiness, as you enthusiastically nodded your head yes.

Hubby!Choso who slipped his free hand into his pocket to pull out the beautiful pink ring that he’d held onto for past two months, before easing it onto your ring finger. He was so happy, he could’ve died and went to heaven right there and then.

Hubby!Choso who would’ve panicked had you not assured him that those were happy tears trailing down your cheeks. Regardless, he still stood up, and took the initiative to kiss away those tears, before pulling you into a loving hug, somehow hoping that you wouldn’t feel how hard his heart was beating against his rib cage.

NSFW:

Hubby!Choso who loved to listen you ramble about wedding preparations. He began to notice that if you ever had to leave a name for a company to call you back, you'd call yourself "Ms. Kamo." and boy did that serve to rile him up.

Hubby!Choso who just couldn't seem to keep his lips off of yours. His self control seemingly leaving his body whenever he saw your form emerge from the bedroom wearing nothing but one of his shirts, and your wedding ring.

Hubby!Choso who was nothing like your previous partners, who were always impatient and rough with you, he was unbearibly soft in bed. Once he'd gotten the hang of all of your weak spots, he made sure you felt like you were on cloud 9, without serving to bruise your guts. It was a win-win honestly, he could watch you come undone underneath him, over and over and over again, all while cherishing your body as much as he wanted to.

Hubby!Choso who used to be an avid condom user, nowadays plunged in raw, always wanting to feel your warm walls clenching around him while he fucked you into your shared matress.

Hubby!Choso who was, and still is the absolute king of aftercare. You'd always try your hardest to keep your eyes open while he cleaned you up, just so you could tease him about the time he literally called 911 because he'd fucked you so good, you'd fallen asleep. (He thought he put you in a coma.)

Hubby!Choso who never shyed away from the opportunity to tell you all the cheesy compliments that his brain would come up with, while he cockwarmed inside you.

Hubby!Choso who never really gave you any hickeys unless you asked for them. The last thing he wanted was you experiencing any discomfort from them, or worse case scenario, you coming home saying that one of your students pointed it out. He loves when you mark him up though.

Hubby!Choso who is definietly open to having kids. He often thinks of names when the two of your are winding down for the night, tangled in each others legs, with his face buried in your plush chest.

Hubby!Choso who thinks that this is the closest to heaven he'll ever get.

Hubby!Choso who loves his wife with all of his cursed heart.

#fypシ #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #choso x reader #choso fluff #jjk choso #tumblr fyp

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strandnreyes · 2 days

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9-1-1: Lone Star Ask Game

I’ve noticed that a lot of ask games are about personal things or content creation, but one of my favorite things about being on here is talking about the show!! so I’ve created a list of questions that anyone can participate in by reblogging and having people send asks, or just answering directly if you’d like! feel free to also reblog and add more questions!! or make a separate post and I can link them all to a master post! 🤍

🗓️ When did you start watching the show?

👀 What made you keep watching the show?

❤️ Favorite part of your favorite ship?

🫂 Favorite platonic pairing and why?

🚨Emergency most likely to make you sob

😶 Unpopular opinion, respectfully

🔀 If you could transfer one storyline to someone else’s character, who and what would it be?

🦋Give us a headcanon about (insert character)!

🐠Give us a headcanon about (insert ship)!

💓 Here’s yours chance! Pour your heart about that one storyline/scene you passionately love

🧥Whose fashion do you like the best?

✨If you could change any detail of any storyline, what would it be?

🤹‍♀️ Give a hidden talent to all the main characters (or those of your choosing)!

🍪 What if Nancy had to quit after the DNR storyline? What does she do instead of being a paramedic?

💍Describe what you think Grace and Judd’s wedding was like

🙄Pettiest thing tarlos has ever gotten into an old married couple fight about?

🚒 Quick! You’re suddenly a part of the universe! What do you do?

🤡 What’s your biggest clown moment in the fandom? Or what are you clowning over that you know will never happen?

🦎 Real talk, do Carlos and Lou ever become friends?

💭Dream season 5 storyline?

📦Character most likely to move away from Austin

👨🏻‍🚒Favorite out of Owen’s (many) love interests?

👩‍💻Time to get meta. Which character secretly has a tumblr blog and writes the best fanfiction you’ve ever read?

📺 Duo most likely to dominate on a tv game show?

🔪 What character are you defending with your life?

⛰️What’s one hill you’ll die on regarding this show? (the more trivial, the better)

#911 lone star #fandom asks #911 lone star fandom asks

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race-week · 3 hours

Note

if you were a team principle right now, free reign, and your car was competetive enough to fight for podiums and wins, but still not as out of anyone's league as the current red bull (talking about a perfect world where all of the teams are quite close together and with every new weekend it's an actual unknown which car will be the most dominant), which two drivers would you choose for your team? not even as a longterm choice (e.g. considering fernando, but being hesitant because he might retire soon), but soley based on the goal to win the current constructors championship? this is me asking what is the fastest pairing, yes, but also the one that can extract the most out of a car that's good enough for wins but still not perfectly suited to them, and the one with the best temper, too, because you wouldn't want teammate crashes.

Anon you had me going back and forth on this so much so I decided to bite the bullet and make a decision, which I’m awful at doing.

So my immediate thought of a driver who I would want as a team principal is Piastri (and there’s probably some bias there because I just think he’s great) - there’s a few reasons as to why I would pick him but one of the main ones for me is how level headed he comes across and he also seems pretty unshakeable which I think is important when it comes to pairing him with a teammate (especially with some of the options I considered)

I basically chose 4 potential teammates; Alonso, Hamilton, Verstappen and Leclerc and then tried to narrow it down and it was so hard.

I put Leclerc to the side mostly because whilst I think his personality would be a good fit, I don’t think he’s consistent enough at the moment to make up for Piastri’s weaker areas.

Verstappen was one I hummed and hahhed over for a bit because he can be super consistent, but it’s whether or not when push comes to shove, would he play the team game and I couldn’t wholeheartedly say that I thought he would.

Alonso is next and I think he could play the team game if he didn’t feel threatened, like we’ve seen this with how he’s helped Stroll and Ocon. So I think it’s a good starting point but it’s whether or not he’ll start playing mind games and stuff if things got competitive (now as a team principal one should get involved before that happens but let’s say it doesn’t) I think Piastri could handle that but who knows.

Hamilton is who I think I would go with, I mean we’ve seen him do various strategies and set up tests to help team development I also think he’s somewhat of a different person to who he was a decade ago (when he was partnered with Rosberg) and I also think that after his last couple of seasons he would good for a team that were fighting for podiums and the occasional win.

So to conclude my rambly essay Piastri and Hamilton, provided that I have that budget

#al’s asks

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bleedingichorhearts · 3 days

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𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐌𝐚𝐲: 𝐃𝐨𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐬

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: This one reminded me of Subnautica.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

TW // Injury, Violence.

Collecting minerals across the deep-ocean floor was a rather pleasing experience, especially right next to the lava lakes and volcanoes. It was cool to see when they would pop and create this “pillow lava.” All round and bulbous, its sphere crust erupting to other Little Rock’s called “igneous rocks.”

Of course, you have to be careful on doing this sort of job. Be wary where you go, how deep you go, what and where you decide to collect your mineral or samples. Creatures and Mother Nature might not like you if they so much desire to rip you to pieces or shoot pillows of lava at you. It can be a very dangerous job in a second. So it’s best to leave it up to the professionals who have more experience for these types of jobs.

This also accounts for the equipment needed to use for this type of job. You can’t have some weak and classic diving suit to swim to the approximate depth of your area filled with underwater lakes of lava. That suit has to be modified for a human to be able to take on the heat of the lava in order to get the goodies like: Gold, silver, copper, manganese, cobalt and zinc.

Though, you gotta be careful of how much the human weight and pressure can take. You don’t want to sink to the ocean floor and be pressurized by the water for going too far down for a human being. So you got to be careful with your selective gear, but your absolute must haves are a storage pouch, underwater flashlight(s), lining, and a knife. All these are important for your survival into the depths of the ocean, and if you think you can take a harpoon? Go for it, the ocean can be quiet and scary when it wants to be.

Pushing of some rock with my hand. I avoided some hydrothermal vents as I took my diver knife from my waist and stabbed it into piece of rock wall a couple times, digging out some mineral with in it. The disrupted sand on the rock obstructing my vision for a second before I spot that shine of the material and grab the mineral with my other hand.

Zinc, I recognize from the splintery metal it has and the sheeny grayish color it’s known for. A good chemical element for to help you immune system fight of bacteria and viruses inside of your body. Though, I would not recommend to blankly just touch, inhale or eat raw zinc before giving it over to the scientists. It can could cause some side effects too like: Stomach cramps, nausea and vomiting. For higher levels: Anemia, damaged pancreas and decreased levels of high-density lipoprotein (HDL) cholesterol.

Opening my pouch, I place the small mineral into the storage pouch on the other side of my waist, from the knife holster and sheathed my knife back into its holster. Swimming carefully near the edge of the cliff where a lava lake resides just a few inches below. The boiling heat of it warning me if I was too close to it or not while I looked for some more minerals to collect. My feet and hands pushing off rocks when I didn’t find anything in the surrounding area.

I hum unhappily into my mask when I couldn’t find anything more than just zinc and occasional copper. Bubbles obstructing my vision when I stop and float in place, looking around me carefully for one last scan for minerals. The feeling of unaccomplishment pressing onto my shoulders as I didn’t want to leave the area without another mineral stocked into my pouch. I wanted them for a reason.

The weight on my shoulders pull off instantly when I spot a sliver of gold shining against the red and yellow of the lava lakes light. My legs already working to swim closer to the lava lake; more than one should. The heat threatening to burn off my heat resistant suit if I got anymore close to the lake, having its limitations.

Rounding the material, I made sure there wasn’t any more that I was going to miss. My hand reaching and unsheathing my knife back from my holster as I get ready to dig at it. Head tilting back and forth on how I would like to dig at it to make sure I didn’t damage the gold too much before resting a hand above it for support and giving the surrounding rock around it a good stab.

It took about 7 times before the noble metal popped off its spot. Breifly floating in the water as I made a reach for it. My fingers almost closing around the metal before I found myself scarcely close to the lava lake. A muffled cry ripping from my throat.

Rapid bubbles surrounded my vision as my hand clutches at my shoulder. A line of red threading through my fingers and through the water from the harpoon stuck into my shoulder. My back slowly burning up for being too close to the lava lake; like when you get too close to the campfire for comfort.

My eyes go wide when another harpoon tinks itself near my ankle, cutting my suit there as I scramble back as far as I could to the best of my abilities without getting scorched by the lava. The harpoon in my shoulder not helping when I find myself pinned under the hands of another human. Their knife threatening to crack my goggles as the tip of the knife scratches them, creating a line in them.

All I could hear from them are rough mumbles and gestures to my pouch. Their hands occasionally gripping at the harpoon in my shoulder for more power as I cry out at the pain of it being moved. Their eyes giving a certain glee when they did.

What was another person doing down here? Was this person a pirate? How long were they following me? Where did they even come from? How did they know of this area? It’s wasn’t common to have some search the floor of the sea for some scraps of minerals.

The person shoves my body back into the sea floor harshly and backing off; taking my storage pouch with them as I become lightheaded at the force of their push. That feeling of dread, sadness and questioning settling on my shoulders.

Why would one person what to steal from another and wound them in the process? If they could have asked I would have lended over some materials for them. I wasn’t a greedy person! That— that just doesn’t make any sense! Why steal when you have a perfectly good gear to come down into the depths of the water and steal from me?

I groan and exhale slowly in order not to cry at the loss of my materials and with the harpoon in my shoulder. My hand gripping at the handle and pulling the harpoon out with a painful jerk. More of my blood flowing through the boiling waters of the ocean depths.

I jump when a nuzzle to the back of my shoulder takes my attention when I look back behind me to the creature of the lava lakes. His black reptilian-like body rising out of the lava as it bubbles off his scales. His deep, yet glowing reddish-orange eyes, serpent-like irises with a solid black line going horizontally through his eyes looking me over. A deep rumble coming out of him, vibrating the water.

Relived it was just the sea creature, I reached up to the creature. His head coming down to nuzzle into my open arms. His form chuffing bubbles as he slowly moves to the wound on my shoulder. A low growl rumbling through the water before his long black tongue rolls out of his mouth and laps at the wound, sealing it up with his saliva as I nuzzle up against his shoulder, his appearance welcoming as the saddening thought of being stolen from still ranked through my mind. I was going to make a trinket for this loving creature, and now I have to start from ground zero.

The creature gently coos at me when he wants my attention, giving me a little kiss on the neck while he’s at it. His talon-like hands rubbing against my back soothingly. Prompting me to let go of him as he gestures and gently pushes me to go back to his nest. His form curling around me, blocking me for any disagreement of not going to his nest.

Pushing off the sea floor a little. I reached for the creature again before I went and nuzzled him right underneath his chin. Purposely exhaling bubbles as he gives these chuff-like sounds at my antics. Gently pawing at me to get me swimming back to his nest, and giving me a forehead kiss before I make my way back to his nest. His eyes carefully watching me go swim to the location of his nest before he turns a pushes off the ground with quiet power in his talons and tail with a new hunt in mind.

A vengeful one too.

ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪: 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐢’𝐬

ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪: 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐮𝐬

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥: 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬

#Ichor’s Chronicles #warhammer 40k #mermay 40k #mermay 2024 #mermay #x reader #reader insert #oc: dorvenos #salamander #tw: injury #tw: violence #he is batman

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terrence-silver · 1 day

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How often do you think Terry and beloved would have sex?

---

...A couple of times a day?

As many times a day as they could?

Would they ever even stop?

I swear, I can imagine it being so for Terry Silver.

He strikes me as the type of person who'd view sex as a recreational pleasure and something in the vein of workout, training, exercise or martial arts --- and we all know he has a penchant for all of those things. Heck --- it's his life. If he spars, he fucks before or after (or both). If he indulges in some warm-up Kata, the routine is much the same. And if he hones his fighting skills in whatever, shape, way or form, yes, you've guessed it --- sex could come both before and after the act because it's all sport to him most days. It's adrenaline. It's self-indulgent. The high of combat is best spiced up with the high of fucking for him; those two complement and reflect each other immaculately in his opinion. They're each other's extensions. They go together as perfectly as an old wine and caviar do. He tests the mettle of his fists, arms and legs on a punching bag or some sparring partners and he tests the mettle of the rest of himself on another warm body. It's both Spartan and hedonistic and I feel he's a perfect blend of both. I wouldn't put it past him if his libido for both fighting and sex is best enhanced by the other like a big Ying Yang. After good series of workout, Terry always tends to feel particularly horny and pumped up and after some good fucking, he's feeling up for a fight all over again because it got his blood running. And vice versa. In fact, his libido could be so high that he'd fuck you during training, during work hours, in front of his staff, while he's conducting business, all while he's in that in-between liminal space that leads from the dojo training mat to the bedroom and back.

When he wants, he wants --- with his entire appetite. Nothing held back.

He doesn't care if it's considered unorthodox. Abnormal. Risqué. Unhinged. Or even taboo. In fact, those notions might just make him infinitely more amused and friskier than he already he is and even more willing than ever before to just have his beloved, my god, several times a day if he could to the degree one almost wonders where on earth does Terry Silver get the inhuman levels of energy and lust from. Is it the cocaine? Is it a supplement? No, I'd prefer to say man has this unquenchable zest for life most days and undeniable passion, especially in the 80's, that'll have beloved walking around bowlegged and blending three days together just to catch up on their sleep because he's drained them that much. There will be times, frequently at that, where he and beloved simply won't leave the bed at all and he'll conduct his business from there and undoubtedly multitask by being inside of beloved all while having an international call with Hong Kong, for example, because go figure. Where there's a will, there's a way. 🤷‍♀️He's somehow a Billionaire workaholic overachiever martial arts master who can and will be hypersexual with relish and still have endurance leftover.

#terry silver #tw; sexcanons #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #kk3 #cobra kai

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louisisalarrie · 2 days

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How can there be a bbg ending? Like Louis just says ‘oh btw he’s not mine’

if u are a PR member from Louis’ team, please listen carefully, because there are a couple of ways to end it, and I will be expecting my pay check asap thank youuuuuu.

Simon Jones, or whoever you may be, welcome to the show!

(these are the sad endings where we feel bad for Louis and boost his image to the gp as a good guy):

1. fight ending in paternity test (a number of different arguments could be used for this) and then bam turns out B has been using him for money like her ex said she would do to Louis and slept with multiple people around that time. Now, you may be thinking “oh but L has publicly treated this kid like his own and he’s a nice guy surely he’d still want to be in this kid’s life” and Louis would make a statement like “if F wants me to be there still as a person in his life I will be but that’s up to him. Please respect their privacy” but we never end up seeing any more photos of them etc., so it’s essentially over. Oldest trick in the book. He’ll come out looking squeaky clean. I kinda think that’s why they didn’t do a paternity test sooner. It’s the last trick up their sleeve to end it when they were ready.

2. Louis is like “I’ve known for a while he’s not mine, but I didn’t want to announce to the world because I still care about him and it would cause a fiasco for him and B from the fans, but B and I think it’s time and I am going to take a step back from his life to not put him in the spotlight any further. Pls respect their privacy” so he looks like he’s lied for a little bit, but “known for a while” would be post AOTV, and he was just worried about his kid dealing with the media and fans and the onslaught that would bring. What a good and caring guy who’s looking out for a kid that’s not even his! Wow.

Those are just 2 that come to the top of my head. There would need to be further planning and more detail, but you get the gist. Those 2 remove his paternity completely. NOW these theories also heavily depend on the way larry wanna come out. Is it gonna be a shock tell all? Because in that case, the above doesn’t matter. Or is it going to be coming out separately and then getting together? Is it going to be coming out together and saying it’s a new thing and they “reconnected”? Well, that I don’t know. But the two above still confirm that Louis is, or was, into women and didn’t, or still doesn’t, define himself as gay. So that’s also a spanner in the works which again, I don’t entirely know the identity he aligns with, but I lean towards gay over ever being bi etc. because of his interactions with women.

So if we want to look at ways where he looks like the good guy (also not sad in a club but I guess maybe a bit??) and entirely remove him from ever being near a vagina, this is my main one:

1. Louis was a surrogate for B at the time as she is a close friend and was in a space to have a baby and he was happy to do it because he loves kids and wanted one of his own but he’s gay so he can’t, so it worked out well. The media took things out of perspective and blew it up into something different than what it was, but they ran with it because he wasn’t ready to come out. And wow… what a generous and loving guy! He loves that kid and he’s still a dad, he’s lied to us but it’s just because he was scared to come out, that’s truly both a heartbreaking and heartwarming story. (The timeline of bbg is messy as it is, so this would need some refining to work without looking suspicious).

So, how do we make him not a dad and ALSO never been into women? Well… a tell all is gonna be the best way to do this, exposing the stunts. But legally, a huge process (unless they say fuck it and cop whatever the repercussions may be). But if we’re doing a slow coming out, I think he’s gonna kind of have to be F’s dad unless it’s a paternity test or a tell all. He’s in too deep with AOTV and the Instagram posts and his family and shit. I don’t think we can have 100% gay and 100% not a dad without it being truly bizarre for the gp to swallow.

Idk im very tired but you can also go to my bbg tag and just have a sift through where I talk about this a bit more in depth.

#anon #answered #bbg #louisisalarrie chats

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storiesforallfandoms · 14 hours

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just for us ~ johnny depp

word count: 1790

request?: yes!

“Hii can you please write a Johnny Depp imagine where its the 90s, you are both famous, and the press keeps beging you expose your relationship?”

description: being famous at such a young age makes it hard to keep anything a secret, but you’re determined to make sure your relationship is just for the two of you and not for the media

pairing: young!johnny depp x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

I started acting when I was five years old. It was a commercial, and I had all of 30 seconds of screen time. But that 30 seconds was enough to impress the director apparently, because two years later when he was hired to direct some new sitcom, he called my parents looking to cast me as one of the main kids. The show only lasted one season, but one season was all it took to kickstart my career.

Becoming an actor at such a young age meant losing a “normal” life. I never went to normal school, normal prom or graduation. I never really had normal friends, just co-stars and other child actors. And I never had any privacy. Once I became a household name, privacy went completely out the window as I was followed by paparazzi and fans daily. Not to mention the creeps who came out in droves when I turned 18.

Nothing in my life was private. Nothing except Johnny.

We met on set of a movie we were working on together, and I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him that I was going to fall for him. I tried not to. Dating as a celebrity was basically impossible, even more so when it was with another celebrity. But i couldn’t stop myself, and when he told me he had fallen for me too, I was a goner.

Being a fellow actor, Johnny knew exactly how to keep our relationship a secret. He knew which restaurants had the most hidden away seating, which ones had the most private parking so we could actually show up and leave together. He knew how to sneak in and out of my place without paparazzi noticing, and how to do the same with me at his place.

It worked for a long time. Like, two years at least. No one had any idea we were together. Until a fan spotted us out together. They didn’t see us acting like a couple, but apparently us hanging out together years after our movie had come out was suspicious enough to get the rumor mill going. Suddenly, every interview we did had us asked at least once about our relationship. But we never broke. We kept insisting we were just friends, and we kept our relationship a secret.

It was early in the morning when my alarm clock started to blare. I groaned as I rolled over to turn it off. The bright red numbers read “7:00am”. I groaned again, sleep fighting to take me again.

I smiled as Johnny wrapped me in his warm embrace and kissed my neck. “Why are we awake so early?”

“I have a morning interview at 9,” I told him. “I gotta get up and get ready.”

He squeezed me a little tighter. “Absolutely not.”

“I have no choice, J. I can’t cancel so close to the interview.”

“Just don’t show up. Problem solved.”

I turned in his arms to face him. His eyes were still drooping with fatigue, but he was trying his best to focus on me. I smiled at him and kissed his nose.

“You can stay here and sleep,” I told him. “I’ll be back by the time you wake up.”

“You better be,” he sleepily muttered.

I chuckled and finally wiggled free from his grasp.

Getting ready for interviews never took long. I didn’t have to do my makeup because the studio makeup artist would do it for me when I got there, and an outfit was chosen for me by my stylist prior to the day. All I had to do was get breakfast, clean myself up, and get dressed in my pre-chosen outfit. I was brushing my teeth when I heard a car horn honking outside, signaling that my ride to the interview had arrived.

I took one last peak into my bedroom. Johnny was sound asleep again. I smiled and quietly moved to my bed. I placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before rushing out the door as the car honked again.

I was rushed through the makeup and placed in an uncomfortable chair within 20 minutes. I tried not to shift too much in an attempt to find a comfortable position. Morning talk shows always had the worst chairs for some reason.

The host walked onto set and greeted me cheerily. I smiled back at her, wishing I had her chipper energy for so early in the morning.

I wonder how many cups of coffee she’s had.

She sat down across from me and we were given the five minute warning. I adjusted myself in my seat one last time, then smiled as the cameraman announced we were live.

“Good morning everyone, and welcome to our special guest, (Y/N),” the host said, gesturing to me. The crowd cheered as I smiled and waved to them. “Thank you for being here.”

“Thank you for having me. I’m so excited to be here!”

The host asked me about my new movie, and I went over the talking points I had been given for every interview. It was going as smoothly as most interviews did, until the host said, “I have to ask, is there anyone special in your life?”

I kept the smile on my face, but I was sure it looked much more strained now. “Nope. I’m absolutely single pringle.”

“Really? There’s not even anything going on with you and Johnny Depp?”

I glanced over at my manager, who looked about ready to shut the whole interview down. Most celebrities have a few off limits questions that interviewers are told they can’t ask about. It’s usually super personal and private stuff that they want to keep private. For me, the one topic that was off limits was Johnny. It wasn’t just because we wanted to keep our relationship a secret, but it was also because my management and I didn’t want all my interviews to suddenly be just about Johnny and not about my work.

It was clear from the look on my manager’s face that this host was told my limitations, and she was choosing to ignore them. This was her attempt at getting a huge scoop before anyone else so that she could boost the ratings of her show.

I knew I couldn’t just stop the interview. It was a live show, stopping would just cause a scene that I knew would do more harm than good. So, I took a very subtle deep breath and said, “Johnny has been my friend since we worked together years ago. There’s nothing more between us besides friendship.”

“Oh, come on. I know you’re aware of the rumors about you two. Everyone is dying for you to finally confirm that you’re together.”

“Well, everyone will just have to keep waiting because I am not confirming what’s not true. Also, I think it’s incredibly disrespectful and invasive to keep pushing this topic when Johnny and I have both said we aren’t dating and like to have our privacy. I don’t get many things that are just for me, but I want my relationship to be one of those things.”

My manager whispered something to the cameraman, who then signaled for the show to go to commercial. Once the cameras were off, my manager demanded for me to be un-miced so we could leave. I ignored the host’s apologies as the crew took off my mic and my manager beckoned for me to come with her.

As we left the studio, she nudged my shoulder and said, “You handled that amazingly, kid.”

I had no other obligations for the day, so my driver took me back home. I was happy to be back in the comfort of my own home after that interview.

The smell of food greeted me at the door. I smiled at myself as I made my way to the kitchen. As I expected, Johnny was stood at the stove, cooking up some breakfast. He was still in his pajama pants with no shirt on. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He leaned into my touch, allowing me to place a kiss on his bare shoulder.

“You’re back early,” he said.

“The interview was cut short,” I responded.

“So I heard.” I looked up at him in confusion. “I woke up just in time to turn on the interview.”

I groaned. “So you saw the whole thing?” He nodded. I buried my head in his shoulder. “We told her not to ask, I swear.”

He moved in my arms, turning so he could face me. He wrapped his arms around me, too, as I moved mine around his neck instead.

“I think you handled that whole situation very well,” he said. “It was pretty clear you were caught off guard by the question, but you still handled it maturely and with more respect than I think she deserved.”

“I wasn’t going to cause a scene over it, even though I really wanted to just walk out if she had asked.”

“Would’ve made for better television if you had just stormed out.”

“You’re right. It’s probably best that I didn’t then.”

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss me. Any tension I had left from that day immediately melted the moment his lips touched mine.

“We’ll have to tell people eventually,” I said with a sigh, resting my head against his. “We can’t keep this a secret forever.”

“We’ve done so for two years.”

“Yeah, but we’ve already gotten caught once. There’s just no proof of us actually being together for the tabloids to run with. But if we slipped up once, it can happen again. Then we’ll have to tell people about us.” I sighed and added, mainly to myself, “We’ll ever get a moment of peace again.”

“It’ll happen eventually, but until then I’m happy to have our private moments,” Johnny said. He kissed the top of my head and added, “But the day I get to loudly say you’re mine will be a good day for me. I want everyone to know eventually that I have the most amazing woman as my girlfriend.”

“You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Good.”

He kissed me again, but pulled away quicker than I wanted. I tried to pull him back in, but he just shook his head and smiled. “I don’t want the food to burn. The last thing we need is everyone finding out we’re dating because I burned your house down.”

I chuckled. “Okay, you have a point.”

“Are you hungry? I made enough for the two of us.”

I nuzzled close to him as he turned back to the stove. “I’ll never say no to your cooking.”

#johnny depp #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp x reader #young!johnny depp #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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