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#which for an angel is pretty impressive

gayrob0t · 1 year

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Ive been getting back into sketching lately and was trying to do some character design stuff except SOMEBODY put a weird horse in a can and I fell in love with him

#kill six billion demons #im an idiot #10 vigilent gaze purges the horizon #he drinks his respect women juice #which for an angel is pretty impressive

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hcnnibal · 1 month

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asking the truly important questions… how much does a2 bench?

prolly like 405 or something

#which is pretty good for someone his size but not like #super impressive or anything #hes not a big gym guy #i think hes more farm strong than gym strong #asks #a1/a2 #angel 2

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arminsumi · 8 months

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ADULT STORE

↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense."

1.5k words

Pt. 2

Summary : product testing with the helpful employee at the adult store!

Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content : using toys, stranger/hookup sex, softdom!Geto, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, multiple orgasms, sex fantasy trope (sex with the adult store employee)

Note : i haven't made a trip to the adult store in ages bc... everything i want is so expensive lol (the struggle) 😭 i have some rlly funny adult store stories i could ramble about but i will refrain ✋ anyways, indulge yourselves in this fantasy, angels! 😈

Playme : wanna know what it's like?

The gate of the store buzzes, the employee watches you open it with a clink and enter the adult store. Your eyes flood with the overwhelming sight of wall-to-wall toys.

The smooth voice of the employee comes from behind the cash register.

"Yo."

Long hair. Dark, brooding look — almost gothic. Attractive hands with pronounced veins running over the back of them, poised on the countertop which he's lazing over.

He sees you and slowly straightens out his back out to impress you with his height.

"Ah, h-hello..."

He hears you stutter, and assumes it must be your first time in an adult store.

"First time? I mean, in an adult store, that is." he breaks the ice.

"Haha, y-yeah... yeah, it's my first time."

Yeah, that's what I thought.

He holds hard and deep eye contact with you. Yes, he's aware of how intensely he stares. He's doing it on purpose.

"Would you like some assistance, or do you just want to leisurely browse by yourself?"

His tone is so friendly, it doesn't let on to how heated his abdomen is getting at the sight of you.

"Yes, please, I'd appreciate your assistance."

Aw, of course.

"M'kay... then let me assist you."

He smoothly comes out from behind the counter and the two of you stand in front of a wall of toys.

"Overwhelmed?" he chuckles, noting how your eyes widen while looking at all the products. "I know there's a lot to choose from. But just focus on your needs. What do you need?"

"What do I need? Honestly, I have no idea what I need." you laugh nervously.

I know exactly what she needs...

"Well, why don't we carefully go through the products together? I'm sure I can figure out what you need. Promise I know my stuff. I've been working here for three years."

His nonchalance and professionalism puts you at ease. It's something he prides himself on: making customers feel relaxed.

Your eye catches on a pink dildo, so he takes it off the rack to show you up close.

"This one's good, it's got a ribbed design." he shows it off. "Are you looking for just penetration or clitoral stimulation?"

Aw, she's flustered.

"Uh, both I guess? Yeah. I'd love both."

Of course you'd love both. That's what you need, pretty girl.

"Both? Come over here. Let me show you something you might like."

There's a flirty tension between the two of you that just keeps getting more and more... intense.

He plucks a curvy vibrator. It looks expensive. Because it is expensive.

"This one's got ten functions—"

"—ten?! Sounds a bit extra."

"Nothing's too extra when it comes to your personal pleasure."

The two of you share a long look, then laugh.

"But it really is an excellent product."

"Are you advertising?" you joke teasingly.

"Absolutely." he jokes, "Kidding. I'm not trying to come across as a preachy marketer or something. I've used it with partners in the past, that's why I'm recommending it; I know it's good. It's a pretty intense toy. Helps girls squirt even if they think they can't."

I could make her squirt.

He's running his eyes up and down your body.

"Is that so...?" you mumble flirtatiously, eyeing out the product in his veiny, manly hands.

"Hm, still a skeptic? Because I'm sure I could please you."

He hopes that you note his deliberate use of 'I' and not 'it' there.

"Yeah. I'm sure you could please me, too." you flirt.

A heat erupts in his abdomen and stomach.

Oh wow... now she's really flirting, huh? Why'd I wear tight pants today of all days...

He has an unwavering gaze on you. You've captivated him. Put him in some kinda horny trance.

"Did I say me? Sorry. Slip of the tongue." he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "I meant the vibrator." he obviously lies.

You and him exchange a suggestive, longing look. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, begging to get stuffed up and pleasured.

He hesitates before speaking again, as if he's scared of crossing a line and making you uncomfortable.

"If you want to... we could test it out together?" he suggests. His nonchalance is an act, really he's so nervous when he asks this.

"I'd love to..." you consent, and he doesn't miss the erotic excitement in your tone.

He nods towards the backdoor, eyes keeping on you and your cute little body that he just wants to feel and squeeze like a toy itself.

"Promise to keep your lips sealed about this? I don't wanna get fired for uh... you know... demonstrating products... to my pretty customer."

"Only if you promise to help me squirt for the first time."

Oh wow. Fuck. I'm hard.

His lips widen into a devilish grin. "Sure thing."

After a sloppy, desperate make out with this stranger, you find yourself sat on the couch in the breakroom. Door locked. Blinds shuttered closed. Legs spread wide to his liking, as he cushions the vibrator into your plush slit.

He's rubbing it slowly up and down your folds. He watches your reactions intently, breathing heavier at the sight of your pussy squishing under the pink dildo. The buzzing sound fills the room, but your moans are louder.

He clutches the toy gently, massaging the bulbous head into your clit with sweeping circular motions.

"F-fuck... that pretty clit feels good, doesn't it? Yeah? Let's get it feeling even better."

He turns it up a notch. It buzzes harder against your sensitive nub.

"How's that? Haha, yeah, intense, isn't it?

"Yeahhh — Fuck! Ohhh that's so good, that's so — oh my goddd fuckkk. S-sorry I think... I'm gonna cummm — !!"

"It's okay. Cum as hard as you can, yeah? I want you to get a good idea of how well this toy can pleasure you before you buy it, after all. Oh there we go... just let go and... f-fuck... wow... j-just cum like that. Fuck... that pretty clit feels so good now, huh? Gonna cum? Gonna cum for me, with a vibrator on your cunt?"

He takes note of your reaction to his dirty talk and smirks. Then he slyly turns the toy's setting higher and it buzzes more intensely, and in one... two... three... seconds, you're squirting like crazy all over the pink vibrator and his hand.

Holy shit, look at that pretty pussy gushing... she could drench my dick. I wanna be inside her so fucking baddd...

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense." he regains his professional tone after you cum.

He turns the toy off and watches you come down from your shaking orgasm, smug look on his face. He keeps it clutched in his veiny hand, and brings it up to his lips to suck and lick up all your juices from it.

She tastes so fucking good... I feel dizzy.

You watch him with wide eyes as he tastes your slick off the toy.

"F-fuck... wh-what did you s-s-say your name was again?" you stutter, starstruck by this stranger.

You're so fucking dizzy, your pussy is buzzing like it still feels the intensity of the toy against it.

"Hm, wanna know my name?" he smiles teasingly, "How about you cum on my face and then I'll tell you."

"Fuck, okay."

And then as soon as you give him permission, he's hungrily diving between your thighs.

"Oh my god..." he loves how you gasp and writhe under the influence of his mouth.

Let's see how fucked-out I can get her. Wanna see her lose her mind 'cause of me.

His lips latch onto your labia and suckle, then onto your clit. He points his tongue at your clit, then oh my god flattens it and laps at your bud while suckling. His softness shows a hint to tenderness in his personality; he really knows how to treat a woman well.

This stranger spoils your pussy with his tongue and lips. He seems to be in his own little world while nosing between your thighs. He carelessly gets your juices smeared across his cheek and lets the rest dribble down his chin.

"Fuck fuck fuck — like that, like that. Don't stop don't stop — !! 'm gonna cum! G-gonna — fffffffucking cummmm ahhhhh — !!"

He flicks the tip of his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, eager to make your pussy freak out on his mouth. Just before you cum he slips two fingers into your hole, middle and ring, and pumps them into a sweet spot hard. He just wants to get an idea of the feeling of your pussy when it cums.

Suckling at your clit, fingering you with nice hard rough strokes, closing his eyes like he's the one enjoying it meanwhile he's silent and you're moaning like you're going insane. He can tell you're close and speeds it up.

"Cum cum cum, cum for me. Just let go and cum." he sounds so desperate, and that professional tone of his is finally cracking. "Cum on my fucking face, please."

And he dives his tongue right back into your hole, wriggling his tongue around, resulting in the nastiest wet squelching sound. His lips press flat against your pussy, he draws in a deep breath and your heat is all he smells.

Please cum on my face. Please please please.

"Ah! Fuck! Fuckkkk!"

You gush right on his lips, which are plump and swollen and red and glistening with your slick.

He pulls away and licks his lips and tells you his name.

"Suguru, by the way. My name's Suguru. Hey... can I give you my number?"

Oh he's so smooth. But he's even smoother at the checkout, when he asks if you're free this Friday for a date. At his apartment. With the company of some of his favorite toys.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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rillian4e · 8 months

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Riding genshin men, how will they react?

Ft & Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Lyney, Albedo

Cw: Riding, praise, overall soft, fluffy and short. Might have grammar mistakes, just ignore lol, wrote this in a hurry so might be a mess.

Neuvillette: All pretty, sitting on top of him in his office, raising your hips before slamming them right back down, one of Neuvillette's hands around your waist, helping you ride him, "Mmhpf- I'm coming, I'm... C-Cumming!" You cried out sensitive as you released all over on his cock, you let out a load moan, tightening up around him as you felt him grind you down onto him, not allowing you to calm down as he chased his own orgasm. "I'm sorry, my dear but I need to be quick, the trial is starting soon. Just hold on to me and be quiet." He lowered his head, pressing a kiss on your temple. After your short meeting with Neuvillette, his clothes were...rather messed up and his hair slightly disheveled which the people of Fontaine found strange, it left them what could be the reason?

Scaramouche: This guy would rarely allow you to be on top due to his pride, but this was one of the very rare occasions where he was simply too tired and feeling vulnerable which you of course used to your advantage. Bouncing up and down his cock, the sight was worth it he thought, maybe it wasn't too bad after all?, his hands gripping your hips tightly as his lips find their way into your mouth, biting on your bottom lip to draw blood. "Hah... Turns out, you aren't completely useless." he'd mutter, smirking as he bit on your neck. He wouldn't mind having you ride him more in the future, after all, seeing you bounce up and down, trying so hard to make the both of you finish, was quite adorable...

Alhaitham: After seeing you beg for attention, he had to give in, placing you on his lap, originally only to cockwarm him as he worked but that soon ended up into him slamming your hips against his, lewd sounds filling the room. "Y-Yes, keep going, pretty girl... I can feel you squeezing me, are you close, hm?" He asked, placing a kiss on your cheek, he certainly didn't mind you distracting him, all he wanted was to fill you up and have you ride him like the good girl you are.

Lyney: He enjoyed nothing more than having you ride his cock after a tiring day of acting and making others smile, it was his job, yes, but it sometimes got exhausting and what better way to relax than have you on his cock, all pretty and eager to please him? "Mm, you're doing so good, ma cherie... It feels heavenly." He murmured, drunk on the feeling of your pussy wrapping around his shaft so perfectly, his head buried in the crook of your neck, soft moans and occasional mewls slipping past his lips.

Albedo: He rarely had time, all consumed with his research and experiments but that wouldn't prevent him from making time for his angel. Having you on his lap, either cockwarming or riding him was a regular thing of you two which you both enjoyed, this was no exception. "Are you alright, my love? Getting tired already, hmm? In that case, I'll offer you some assistance since you have been a good girl up till now..." He remarked, smiling lovingly as he pressed a soft kiss on your lips, his focus now shifting on to you instead of his work. Helping you ride him faster, the sweet praises which left his mouth making you cum on the spot, earning an impressed chuckle from Albedo, he would surely note this later, "There you go, angel. Now, be good and rest while I finish this, alright?" He patted your hair, pulling you to rest your head against his chest.

#genshin smut #short imagine #genshin x you #genshin x reader #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #neuvillette smut #neuvillete x reader #lyney smut #genshin lyney #albedo smut #albedo x you #albedo x reader #genshin wanderer #alhaitham x you #alhaitham smut #genshin impact imagine

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pierregazly · 3 months

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always the prize, always the winner ꨄ logan sargeant smau

logan sargeant x pop star!reader

in which logan is actually pretty okay with being known as the biggest pop star in the world's arm candy. who would complain about that, really?

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, lilymhe, oscarpiastri, and 4,539,209 others

yourusername back doing what i do best!! (watching this handsome man get asked solely about me in interviews and then singing songs about it) (ps i love you) (pps yes that is a song)

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logansargeant why are you so obsessed with me?

logansargeant im not complaining btw cause like... never stop?

logansargeant but also pps cant wait to hear it 🤍

yourusername just for this attitude you're the LAST to hear it now (handsome)

username still never gonna understand how LOGAN SARGEANT bagged ms ma'am but okay! 🤭

username a couple mutually obsessed with each other? (gag) (obsessed)

oscarpiastri i get asked questions about you too?

yourusername yes and your one word answers are SO riveting.

username why is no one talking about the SONG??? PS I LOVE YOU???? im going to throw up

username it's going to be the most disgustingly loving obsessive song ever and it's all about this american MAN

username never seen a man luckier than logan sargeant

logansargeant has posted a story

tagged logansargeant

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 3,201,326 others

yourusername nothing makes me happier than running into you in the most random of places. always there when i need you most 🫶🏻

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logansargeant i would meet you in the middle of a croc swamp if i had to

logansargeant not a snake pit though, you're on your own for that one kid

yourusername you're on your own kid... what a song title 🤭

alex_albon we have a race next week??? in australia??? why are you in america

logansargeant 🤫

username god these two make me sick!!! (affectionate)

username if they ever break up... imagine the album ugh. i need it

username maybe let's not wish a breakup on anyone??? especially these two?? wtf

lilymhe begging u to release the songs even if they're about logan

yourusername they're actually about you?? 🫶🏻

tagged logansargeant and yourusername

liked by username, username, username, and others

ynupdates during an interview before the melbourne gp this weekend, logan gushed about finally getting to see yn after a few weeks apart, and when asked if she'd be attending any of the upcoming gp's all he did was smile and say 'she could be here right now, but i'm not going to be the one to expose her?' - so, if anyone is at the melbourne gp be sure to keep your eyes out!

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username oh he SO flew to san fran so she wouldn't have to fly to australia alone.. king energy??

username i know he always says he's the winner but that man would walk through hell for her so idk

username omg omg im gonna be at the gp this weekend!!! i'll keep an extra eye on everything and anything william's

username imagine going to a FORMULA 1 RACE and running into THEE pop star yn

username logan it's your weekend to get some points!!! impress your gf, be the prize and the winner for once!! (at least get points)

yourusername has posted a story

liked by logansargeant, username, username, and others

replies

logansargeant not you posting my garage but not even coming to see me??? hell is a place on earth and it's where i am right now

yourusername literally my words every time im away from you??? go win points love u my handsome lil eagle man <333

logansargeant gross <3

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, oscarpiastri, and others

logansargeant LFGGGGG!! first points of the year, and a 5th place finish at the melbourne gp!! let's go up from here!! honoured to have had my best friend here, always gonna be a winner when you're involved angel 💗

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yourusername literally wreck my plans, THAT'S my man

yourusername so fricken proud of you handsome!!! knew calling you my lil eagle man would win you some points

yourusername love you so much pls

logansargeant love you more pretty <3

williamsracing that's OUR shared comfort american man. it's all up from here!

username LFGGGG

username RAH RAH WTF IS A KM 🦅

username 🦅🦅🦅

tagged logansargeant

liked by logansargeant, lilymhe, oscarpiastri, and 12,320,433 others

yourusername in honour of my boyfriend, my new album 'lover' will be out 24.03.14 - an ode to the man who has shown me how you can be a prize and a winner all in one. logan, i love you more than anything. always.

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logansargeant and to think i always said it was a joke when i asked you to write an album for me.

logansargeant i love you to the moon and back, i know i've heard every song but i can't wait to hear it again. you're the best ever

yourusername god. i'm so lucky to be known as yours lo 💗

oscarpiastri if anyone asks me about this. one word answers only. riveting.

yourusername riveting?

oscarpiastri riveting.

username I KNEW IT

username THERE WAS WAY TOO MANY REFS TO NEW SONGS

username god this is gonna make me feel so single. i literally can't wait.

ynnation love songs for the ages, we know it. an icon, and congrats to logan for getting his first points of the year!!

username this is SO for all the logan haters, ain't none of y'all ever gonna make our girl feel the way he does!!!

authors notes

this was so self-indulgent bc i haven't written in forever but im going through a logan phase. i hope you all love it 💗 i also lost my tag list so pls enjoy regardless ily

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 imagine #logan sargeant smau #smau #f1 #william's racing #my smau #logan sargeant fluff #f1 fluff

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inkykeiji · 6 months

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you can always take more than nothing

character: bonten!mikey x fem!reader

genre: smut

notes: here’s my halloween piece, only half a month late! still, i hope you can enjoy it! as always, please heed the warnings and stay safe! | title cred: alice in wonderland

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, public sex/exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, size difference, biting/marking, blood, minimal prep, rough sex, teasing, begging, dacryphilia, humiliation, a lil bit of degradation, drugs, toxic relationship

words: 8.6k

synopsis:

Those few remaining scraps of decency you’d both been clinging to have been devoured by Mikey’s growing selfishness, no longer caring about what others might see or think or say—it’s not like anyone’s dumb enough to do anything about it anyway; it’s not like anyone has enough of a death-wish to try. He’s the motherfucking Boss. And the Boss gets what he wants, where he wants, when he wants, always.

The music is loud, so loud the walls seem to be breathing with it, bleeding with it, flashes of neon pouring over the frosted mosaics of glass and marble.

A party, thinly veiled as a corporate event.

There are people everywhere, scattered across every surface, crystal glasses filled with expensive liqour and cocktail concoctions glittering in their palms. You barely know any of them.

They’re all supposed business partners, allies and associates, ‘friends’ of your Daddy. Not that it matters all that much to you; they aren’t allowed to say a word to you anyway.

Your eyes scan the expanse of the club, on the hunt for a familiar face. Takeomi is in the corner, obnoxiously blowing smoke into some of the higher end girls’ faces. He’s really taking his role of The Caterpillar earnestly.

Good. You told him it suited him.

At your request (AKA at Mikey’s demand), the top members of Bonten have dressed up as Alice in Wonderland characters, donning an impressive group costume. You’ve been taking the whole thing pretty seriously—beginning your extensive planning in August, drafting up designs and taking everyone’s precise measurements to have each outfit custom made to their exact frames—which means the rest of Bonten has been taking the whole thing pretty seriously, too.

Not that any of them mind.

What Mikey’s little angel wants, Mikey’s little angel gets. It’s standard protocol, really; you’re merely an extension of the Boss and thus must be treated as an extension of the Boss, and Mikey’s best men have no issues complying.

Sighing, you rest your chin in your palms, sombreness souring your features. An ache, dull and dense, settles in the pit of your chest. It’s a desolate sort of longing, a gentle but constant gnawing that cannot be sated by anyone or anything other than it’s creator, something that weights your lungs and heavies your heart and stalls your breath, a vital part missing.

You miss Mikey.

You miss Mikey, but you know this ‘event’ really does have some sort of business significance; that, while it’s mostly an excuse to get drunk and high on Halloween night, it also serves as the grounds for some sort of meeting or negotiation or proposition—you can never be sure which, with Bonten.

You aren’t allowed to know. You’re lucky to be here at all.

But you miss Mikey.

You shouldn’t be selfish. You know you shouldn’t be selfish; he’s already stretched so thin between so many obligations and obituaries, and you shouldn’t add to that strain. You won’t add to that strain. You’ll sit here, pretty and perfect like his precious little princess should be, and you’ll wait, patiently, until Daddy has a moment to spare you.

He always finds a moment to spare, no matter how many duties and commitments he has. He always finds a space for you in his day, even if he has to carve it out with his bare hands.

So you mustn’t be greedy. You will be good. For him, you’ll do anything, no matter how difficult.

“No frowning, miss Alice,” Sanzu chastises through a stretched grin, wide and carved into his cheeks—a smile so sharp, so sinister it puts the true Cheshire Cat to disgrace.

He swims into your vision, teeth glinting with teals and fuchsias, an intricately wrapped box in his palms. Tugging on the ribbon a little, he unboxes it to reveal a wealth of small confections, individually wrapped in colourful foils.

“Look, your favourite kitty brought you some chocolate.”

That brightens your mood a little—a sugar fiend, just like your Daddy is—and your mouth drops open expectantly, cute tongue unfurling in invitation.

Sanzu rolls his eyes but places a truffle on your tongue anyway, pressing it down on the slick muscle and forcing your lips to close around his first knuckle to suck the treat free from him, laughing at the way your face twists.

Pervert.

His nails taste like blood—not that you’ve come to expect any less—but the rusty copper is quickly eradicated by sugar, a content little hum vibrating around the melting chocolate.

“Good, huh?” Sanzu asks around his own chocolate, shuffling a gold box of expensive Italian truffles in his palm as he picks through them, confections jumping perilously with the motion, shimmering wrappers catching in the flashing neon strobes. “They’re imported.”

“Where’d you get those?” you ask through strings of caramel and cocoa, welding to your molars.

“A little Halloween treat courtesy of Mikey,” he says dutifully, jostling the box in emphasis. “And an apology, for taking longer than expected.”

Warmth blooms in your chest, swelling with your heart and stretching your ribs. The last few remnants of displeasure fade from your face, giving way to a small smile.

How very Mikey of him, to send his second in command armed with artisan chocolates and a short, sweet explanation; something he knew would make you smile, something he knew would alleviate some of your impatience, a reassurance that he misses you too, that he’ll be back soon, that he’s thinking of you.

“There’s our pretty girl,” Sanzu teases, but his own grin has softened a little, the glint in his eyes dulled to a twinkle. “No more pouting, ‘kay? Your trusty Cheshire Cat will be by your side until your Hatter returns.”

Ah. A polite way of saying that you’re stuck with him until Mikey’s finished his work, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

That takes longer than either of you expect, though, Sanzu’s plan of entertaining you by leading you, hand-in-hand, around the club to assess each Bonten member’s costume not nearly as lengthy as he had anticipated.

Because it only takes a mere twenty minutes or so to examine all of them, with you near instantaneously deciding that the Haitanis have won the make-believe costume contest you and Sanzu had been holding between yourselves.

Sanzu had agreed—everyone looks impeccable in their custom-made costumes, tailored specifically to them at your behest, but no one had any hope of eclipsing the Haitanis in their form-fitted pinstriped suits, each stitch and thread molded flawlessly to their frames, perfectly pressed collars embroidered with Dee and Dum in shimmery purple thread, powder blue bowties immaculately symmetrical around their tattooed necks.

Now you’re back at the bar, Sanzu’s shaky fingers sifting through the box of truffles as he searches for something, anything, to distract him from the way the blood in his veins is beginning to dry up, the way his capillaries are withering, brittle and thirsty, the way his skin is beginning to itch.

Because he can’t do a goddamn thing about it. Not yet, anyway.

No narcotics when he’s chaperoning you; that’s a hard rule. That’s a rule that’s been sewn into the tissues of his brain so tightly it’s interwoven with his synapses. That’s an execution rule; a one time only rule—breaking that rule will get him fucking killed.

But you’re both starting to become a little bit restless.

“Come on,” you’re begging, word dragged across your tongue in a petulant whine. “Just one more chocolate?”

“I said no,” Sanzu snaps, eyes hard. “Mikey said three. Mikey’s the Boss. Whatever Mikey says goes; Mikey’s girl, Mikey’s rules!”

“You’re no fun,” you huff, forehead scrunching with a pout.

“Yeah, and that’s why he sticks me with you,” Sanzu says, though he sounds almost proud, as if it’s an honour to babysit you, a title of high esteem. “Because I can resist your tricks.”

“My charms,” you correct.

“Whatever,” he waves a hand. “It’s all semantics. Point is, I know how to say no to you, unlike a few certain someones.”

Unimpressed ice blue eyes sweep across the venue, hovering pointedly on the faces of his colleagues—Kakucho, the Dormouse; Kokonoi, the White Rabbit; Rindou, Tweedle-Dum.

Your eyes follow his, and you smirk to yourself. Kakucho is the easiest out of those three; Kokonoi sometimes deceives you, allowing you to do as you please only to tattle to Mikey later, and Rindou always demands some sort of payment, claiming it’s only fair that you give him something he wants in return.

Turning back, you’re about to respond, something bratty and bitter simmering on your tongue, when a pair of hands and a smooth voice cuts you off.

You’d know that touch, that tone, anywhere.

“Pray, tell me, Miss Alice,” Mikey murmurs in your ear as he slinks up behind you, palms curling around your hips and pulling you back toward his chest. “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

“Because it can produce a few notes,” you answer dutifully, head tipping back against his shoulder to glance at him through the corner of your eye. “Though they are very flat.”

“Correct,” he responds. “My, what a smart little girl you are.”

It’s soaked in condescension, compliment drawled out through a supercilious smirk, breath wafting across your face sweltering and saccharine.

“Do I get a reward, Mister Hatter?” you ask, sweeter than sugarcane, batting eyelashes framing hopeful, dewy eyes.

A hum vibrates on his tongue, onyx gaze apathetic and appraising as it glides across your features slowly, thoroughly, pulling each of your thoughts apart and putting them back together again.

Your head rolls to the side, over his protruding collarbone, to stare at him more resolutely. And God, it’s the way you’re looking up at him, eyes glazed with dedication, with devoutness, like you want to fucking devour him.

Like you want him to devour you.

Hips pushing back, you rub your ass into his cock in inconspicuous little motions, lashes fluttering a little, back arched in a perfect curve and tits on full display.

From this angle, there’s no way he can’t see right down your dress; there’s no way he can’t see the red lace of your bra straining against supple skin as your chest rises and falls with gentle breaths, no way he doesn’t notice the very tips of your nipples, cheekily peeking out from beneath the delicate material with each swell of your breasts.

Bony fingers flex on your waist, and he huffs out a smirk.

His ebony pupils are enormous, blown wide and gaping, gnawing away at the whites of his eyes.

He’s high.

It’s evident in the milky film of artificial ecstasy lacquering his gaze, doped up and hazy, but it does nothing to dilute the potent love he has for you, melting his stare to something soft and sticky, pouring past his lashes.

He’s feeling good tonight.

“I think I know what my little girl wants,” one hand flattens against your stomach, holding you flush to his body as the other slides up your ribs to cup your breast, filling his palm with it and kneading, slow and deliberate, simply enjoying the feeling of you. “And it is very naughty of her.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mm,” he hums, head drooping to nose along the curve of your neck. “Really.”

His lips brush along your skin as he speaks, his voice barely more than a gentle vibration along the column of your throat, and you whimper a little, fingers curling around his wrist and pressing him closer.

“A-And what’s that?”

“Aw, can’t you guess?” he tuts his tongue. “And I thought you were smart. Must’ve been mistaken. Where’s my smart little girl gone now?”

Grip firm on your waist, his hips rut forward, hard cock prodding at you through the layers of tulle. A discontented little sound vibrates in your throat as you squirm a little—and oh, he knows what you’re whining about, greedy girl, knows that you can barely feel his cock through the thick petticoat, knows you want more—and he presses his hips further forward, grinding harder into your ass.

“Daddy—Da-Daddy, it’s—”

“What?” he shoves again, stronger this time, teeth nipping at the skin below your ear. “Hm?”

“Your cock is hard,” you nearly whine, pushing back against him in a pitiful little wiggle, desperate for more friction.

“And who’s fault is that, huh?”

The hand massaging your breast gives a final squeeze before his fingers find your nipple, pinching it through the material of your dress and bra, then rubbing the heel of his thumb over it in hard, rhythmic motions.

“Is your pussy wet?” he huffs the question into your ear, his hot breath procuring shivers. “I bet it is, naughty girl. Daddy wants to feel it.”

“Please, please,” your hips buck a little, punctuating your pleads, chest pressing into his touch.

“Please? Please what?”

“Touch me, Daddy, touch me, touch me.”

Slender hands slip beneath the puffy layers of lace, calloused fingertips rough as they skim up your smooth thighs, outlining the silk ruffles of the bloomers he bought you specifically for this costume.

Your hips twitch slightly, legs spreading instinctively as his fingers trail along the scrunched hem to the apex of your thighs, pressing two into the rapidly dampening material. Pensively, they caress your slit through the material, prodding your hole just a little before rubbing two slow, hard circles into your clit.

“Christ,” he breathes out, curse splintering at the end. “You’re so fucking wet baby, and I’ve barely done anything yet.”

His palm flattens against you, all four fingers dipping into your core nearly to the first knuckle and then curling, the heel of his hand grinding against your clit, and your pelvis cants reflexively, almost as if you’re attempting to draw his fingertips further in.

“How are you this wet already, huh?” he keens, voice straining beneath his own desire. “Been thinking naughty thoughts?”

“Jus’want your cock,” you slur out honestly, hips gyrating in pathetic little circles, an embarrassing attempt to follow his touch.

“Oh, yeah? That’s all it takes, eh?” he rolls your clit between his thumb and his forefinger, nonchalantly toying with it as he mulls. “Just my cock?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod blearily. “Uh-huh, uh-huh.”

“Cute,” Mikey spits, the compliment sheathed in venom, “how utterly stupid just the thought of my cock makes you.”

His fingers clamp down on the swollen nub and tug, your whole body jolting with the pain, a yelp hitching in your chest.

The arm wrapped around your waist tightens in response, holding you close, holding you still as he humps away at you, sloppy and uneven.

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs, fingers tweaking your clit in rhythmic motions, sparks of pleasure chased by shocks of pain. “You’re so fucking easy for your Daddy, aren’t you? So quick to get soaked for him, so quick to get ready for him, such a good little slut for him, yeah?”

His voice is gravelly, letters wispy around the edges despite fact that he’s nearly shouting over music. Another rush of heat surges between your thighs, and he laughs, dark and dangerous.

Your clit throbs in his touch, the silk of your panties drenched all the way through, aiding his fingers in their slippery motions—several small, fast S gestures, followed by a few firm strokes of your slit, fingertips gliding over your folds with ease. You’re so soaked, whole cunt now outlined by the shimmery material, molding to your folds and enabling him to feel every dip, every bump, every crevice, another chuckle dripping from his lips as your little hole clenches around nothing.

“Daddy,” you whimper, thighs squeezing together tightly as you attempt to fuck his fingers. “Daddy, I—I can’t—I need—”

“Shh,” he hushes you, lips caressing the curve of your ear. “I know, baby. Daddy knows what you need.”

A palm wraps around your wrist as Mikey mutters something about going somewhere a little more private, pulling you along behind him and leading you toward those purple velvet VIP couches, empty and roped off in a darkened corner.

“What are we—” you begin as Mikey collapses heavily on the couch, knees spread wide open, hips shifting up slightly as he forces his feet even further apart, getting comfortable.

C’mere, his lips mime, voice drowning in heavy bass, his chin jutting in the general direction of his straining cock, yearning against pin-striped pants.

Strong hands curl around your hips and yank you backward, the abrupt motion punching a sound of surprise from your chest as you tumble into his lap, spine pressed tight to his sternum.

The hinges of his jaw hook over your shoulder, a crude way of keeping you from squirming as he manhandles you into straddling his thighs, hard cock pressing into your core.

“Holy fuck,” he pants out, the curse damp against your skin. “You’re so wet I can feel you leaking through my pants.”

“Daddy,” you say, and although it’s meant to be a warning, it comes out as a whine, stringy and petulant.

Because it already feels so good, and he’s already so hard, and you just can’t help but rock your hips back, slow and firm, whimpering a bit as the head of his cock glides over your clit, teasing as the slick, swollen little nub jumps beneath the dull pressure.

He laughs a little, nothing more than a deep, dark rumbling within his ribs, reverberating against your back.

“You’re so fucking nasty, baby,” he chides lowly, though you can hear the self-satisfied smirk sewn into his voice, tinged with sadism, as he rolls his hips up twice, grinding his cock into your drenched core. “You’re so fucking needy, baby, trying to get yourself off in the middle of this crowded club.”

You are, you are, another little sound escaping your lips as you rut back against him, already beginning to speed up, rubbing the head of his cock over your clit in quick little strokes.

“It’s really precious, y’know, how pathetically eager you are for me,” he murmurs, notes of fondness negating the sting the insult should bring, words gone melty and sweet. “But you gotta stop humping Daddy for a moment, so he can get his cock out and give you what you really want.”

A disgruntled little whine sounds in your throat, motions stuttering a little as you attempt to stop moving. But it all feels so incredible, greedily unable to quell your hips completely as they rotate in messy little circles, tummy starting to ripple with each graze of his blunt head against your clit.

“Hey,” he warns, sharp and stern, a palm colliding with your bare thigh and leaving a burning handprint seared in its wake, the impact of the slap loud enough to draw a few pairs of eyes. “Don’t get bratty with me, or you won’t get anything at all, you understand?”

Your head’s nodding before the words are even finished leaving his lips—yes, Daddy, of course, Daddy, brats don’t deserve to be filled by Daddy’s cock—desperate to be good for him, to be the best for him.

Because you know he isn’t fucking around; Mikey’s threats are never empty threats, each and every word plucked from his brain with superlative care, heavy and infused with meaning.

It’s terrifying and tantilizing, how easily and instantly he can switch from one mode to the other: from playful to imposing, from Daddy to Leader, a pleasant shiver skittering up your spine, your hole clenching and pulsing as your stomach plummets, gut weighted with a tingling pressure.

It’s a bit of a task, freeing his cock and manoeuvring yourself as you try to inconspicuously sink down on it, but you both manage, your fluffy petticoat of crinoline and tulle providing a decent amount of privacy.

A hiss slips through the gaps of your gritted teeth as it begins to tear you in two, cute little hole stinging as it strains around his cock, struggling to accommodate his girth, delicate skin splitting itself open for him.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he breathes lowly, voice vibrating against your ear. “There you go, good girl.”

An airy little moan spills from your lips as he bottoms out, cockhead pressed snug to your cervix, and you melt back into him, skull knocking against his shoulder, eyes slipped shut.

“Feel better, princess?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you mumble out dreamily. “S’good, S’right.”

“It feels right, huh?” he chuckles a little, thumbs rubbing fond circles into your hips, his hands all the way up your skirt, slipped beneath the frills and fluff, forearms buried in your dress. “You like it when Daddy fills you up?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. “Stretches me out real good, makes me feel all stuffed ‘n full.”

Whole, complete, one. Like everything feels as it’s supposed to again.

And it hurts, because it always hurts, because he’s too thick and you’re never prepped enough, never patient enough, core split open on his cock and little hole aching as it attempts to adjust to him, but it’s so fucking perfect, too. Your cunt spasms around him, hips twitching a little in desperation—like you’re trying to suck him in further, like you’re trying to bury him deeper—and he groans, fingers flexing as he holds you still, nails gorging on your flesh.

“Eager, are we?”

“S’not my fault,” you mewl, back arching a little as you attempt to push your hips back, squirming a bit in his strong grip. “Need you, Daddy.”

“Is that so?”

Grasp tightening, his hips thrust up, grinding the head of his cock into your cervix in slow, hard motions—back and forth, back and forth, inspiring a dull pang throbbing in your gut.

Gasping sharply, your hips jerk back in response, automatic and instinctual, pulling a hoarse groan from his chest.

His clutch turns to near bone crushing, a fractured little cry sticking in your throat, and he forces you to hold still for a moment, muscles in his thighs gone rigid and stiff as his hips press up further and tug you down, frozen, revelling in the way your cunt pulses around him, as if it’s whining for him.

“M-Mikey,” you echo its sentiments, his name a sulky plead on your tongue, brows knit together and lips jutted in a pout.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“You know,” you huff out, wriggling a little in his palms, feebly trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Tell me anyway,” he demands.

Scalding embarrassment pricks your cheeks and you whimper, fidgeting in his grasp again, head shaking in defiance.

“Come on,” he chides, but there are notes of amusement infusing his tone. “Daddy can’t give you what you want if you don’t ask for it.”

Sharp teeth sink into your shoulder suddenly, your half-formed response strangled by a gasp, Mikey’s jaw tensing as he burrows his teeth further into your flesh, piercing through tissues and snapping capillaries until copper explodes in his mouth.

He holds it for a moment, all thirty-two of his teeth latched in your skin, ensuring he leaves a full, detailed outline of his mouth etched into you—a signature of sorts—before his tongue flattens against the wound, dragging over it in a single wide lick and sealing it with blood-tinged saliva. A gentle exhale wafts over the bite, cool against the searing pain, and you shudder, chills erupting across your flesh.

“You’re a big girl,” he coaxes over your whimpering, the encouragement steeped in condescension. “I know you can do it. Use your big girl words and tell Daddy what you want.”

Your eyes squeeze shut against the burn of humiliation, lids crinkling at the corners, the softest hiccup catching in your throat, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

“I—I wanna ride your cock, Daddy,” you push the stubborn words from your tongue, trembling and breathy.

“Yeah?” he asks, bloodied tongue tracing along the shell of your ear. “How bad?”

“So bad,” you bleat out, striving to bounce on his cock under the firm restraint of his hands, dewdrops of annoyance clinging to your lashes, glittering in the beams of magenta and teal as you blink rapidly.

“Hm,” he muses to himself, nonchalant as he readjusts his grip, hands constringing, completely halting your pathetic little movements. “It doesn’t seem like you want it all that badly.”

“Daddy,” the word leaves your lips in a whine, scrunched and petulant through your pout, body thrashing beneath his strong grip. “Come on—”

“Are you sure you wanna be such a naughty little whore in front of all of these people?”

Your body stops its writhing, his words like a slap to the face.

It’s a bit of a shock, to hear it spoken aloud so bluntly, cut and dry and honest, and it sends a torrent of sparks fizzing through your chest to collect dense and tight in your tummy.

Shame and revulsion sets your skin aflame, the cinders in your gut flaring in response, an intoxicating combination.

“Yes—”

“Huh? What was that?” he shouts theatrically in your ear. “I couldn’t really hear you over the music.”

“Y-Yes,” you repeat, trying to steady your hiccuping voice, to be stern and resolute, even as tears begin to stream down your cheeks.

“Really?” he breathes, and he sounds astonished, he sounds appalled. “You’re so fucking sleazy, baby. I wonder what all these people would think, if they knew how truly filthy my little girl is...”

“Manjirou,” you weep out his birth name, whole face saturated in frustration.

“Oh-ho-ho,” he chuckles out the word, and it’s vicious. “Graduated to using my full name, now, have you?” he licks at the steadily oozing bite, mopping up more blood with his tongue. “Christ, you do really want it.”

“I do!” you cry out, struggling against his grasp again, hips bucking in wild, erratic motions. “I do, I do, please, let me ride your cock, please.”

“What if I made you sit, still and straight like the good little girl I know you want to be, on my hard cock for the rest of the night? Do you think you’d be able to handle it?”

You know he won’t, know he’d never be able to, because he’s just as addicted to you as you are to him, just as desperate, just as eager, just as needy; because even as he holds you motionless, he can’t quite halt the delicate jerk of his hips, rolling up into your core; because you know he wants this just as badly as you do, gets off on the depravity just as much as you do.

Even so, the mere thought of being teased like this, of being forced to hold such a degrading position, is still enough to inspire a rush of agitated tears to flood your eyes, vision gone bleary with despairing desire and rendering the club a bleary haze of glowing neons.

“No, Daddy, no, I—I just want to ride you, please, Daddy, I c-can’t—”

You’re nearly wailing now, head thrown back dramatically as your neck twists into an uncomfortable knot, anguished as you try to bury your face in his throat, looking for solace. Your chest stutters as you stammer out half-finished pleads, gone garbled with spit, and Mikey smiles.

You’re starting to cause a scene.

It’s exactly what he wanted.

“Okay, baby, okay, okay,” he’s pacifying as he feels hot tears soak into his neck, a choked sob catching painfully in your chest. “Daddy’s here, Daddy’s gonna make it all better.”

And finally, finally his grasp loosens, stiff fingers gone lax, massaging lopsided circles into the rapidly developing bruises left in the shape of their prints.

“Go ahead, angel,” he urges, nuzzling into the junction of your shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss to the congealing bite. “Ride Daddy’s cock.”

Then he’s slumping back, settling into the couch cushions and spreading his thighs a little wider, pressing the soles of his boots into the waxed floor for stability and leverage.

His hands stay on your waist, a gentle guidance, but he allows you to set the pace—a rare occurrence—patient as your hips work up a steady rhythm of quick, shallow gyrations, each swivel dragging his cock against your favourite spot.

And God, you’re so cute when you use his cock to make yourself feel good. It’s a shame that he can’t see your face in this position, can’t see the way your lashes flutter and frame the rolling whites of your eyes or the way your features scrunch so delicately; a shame he can’t hear your gorgeous noises, all your sweet little gasps and pitiful little whines consumed by the blaring music.

But he can see how your back is bowing, spine forced into a near perfect arc by your building pleasure, bending just a hint more with each brush of his cock; he can feel your palms clutching his knees, nails digging little crescents into his shins and using them for support as your movements accelerate, as you fuck yourself harder, faster, better.

And he lets you have your fun for a little, lays back all languid and lazy and watches through lidded eyes as you play with yourself and use his cock like it’s your favourite toy—because, well, it is—but eventually it just isn’t enough and you need Daddy’s help.

Just like he knew it wouldn’t be. Just like you always do.

Not that he minds one bit.

Yes, it isn’t enough, because it never is, because you can never manage anything more than teasing yourself when left entirely to your own devices, spritzing kerosene on the dull smouldering in the pit of your stomach as the head of his cock brushes up against that engorged spot inside of you, not nearly hard enough or fast enough to have you anywhere close to creaming on him, merely enough to have your clit throbbing, swollen and neglected.

He knows you’re beginning to get restless when your hips turn sloppy, tempo starting to falter as your motions stutter, and then you’re looking over your shoulder at him with a beseeching pout, glazed eyes begging him to do something!

So he does.

He’s straightening up in a split second, hands around your waist tightening as he yanks you back toward his chest, chin hooking over your clavicle again and grinding the sharp bone into your skin.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs against your jaw, mocking and mean. “Can’t even get herself off without her Daddy’s help.”

“I can’t, I can’t,” you wail over the roar of EDM, head shaking in accentuation. “Need you, need you to do it for me.”

“Of course you do, angel,” he says, as if it’s obvious, as if it’s common knowledge. “But that’s okay—Daddy will make it feel good.”

That’s the only warning you’re given before his hips are ramming up, rapid and rough and downright ruthless, the abrupt motion slamming a high-pitched yelp from your throat, so pure and genuine and full of lust that it rises above the music, breaks through the heavy bass beat, gathering a handful of glances from a few nearby party-goers.

So much for being inconspicuous.

You should’ve known that that just isn’t Mikey’s style.

They lose interest just as quickly as they gained it, though, going back to their drinks and their drugs, unconcerned. What the Boss does at his own club is none of their business, even if it is on display for the whole venue to see.

Still, it’s enough for Mikey.

“Everyone can see you, you know,” voracious black eyes scan the balcony space. “Everyone can see you being such a good little whore for your Daddy.”

The thought of being watched, of being caught, inspires a whole flock of butterflies to flit around in your tummy, another surge of heat gushing between your thighs, and Mikey laughs. Oh, he felt that.

Because he’s right; if anyone dared to look a little closer, a little longer, cared to paid a smidge of more attention to the two of you, hidden on one of the velvet couches wedged in the corner of the VIP section with your hips rocking and Mikey’s hands buried in the lace and tulle of your skirt, they’d know exactly what the two of you are doing.

But it doesn’t matter; you don’t care. Neither does he. Why should either of you?

“Do you—Do you think they like it?” you question, and Christ, it’s so precious, that pathetic hope ringing high and clear in your voice. “Do you think they like watching me bounce on their Boss’s cock?”

“Fuck,” the curse fragments in his throat, sharp and pitchy, and he coughs on the shards. “I know they do, sweetheart.”

“Do you think they’re g-gonna go home and touch themselves to the thought of me—of us?”

“Aw,” Mikey coos out in a chuckle, breathless and condescending. “It’s cute that you think they aren’t already jerking off to you on a regular basis.”

Of course they are, you silly little stupid thing; how could they not be? With all the sweet, short little dresses he buys you to prance and twirl around in—the ones with the sweetheart necklines that dip just a hint too low, teasing the swell of your breasts with each of your gentle inhales; the ones with the rippling hems that end just a touch too high, swishing and swaying and flashing with each of your movements, riding up and fanning out to gift them with teasing little glimpses of the lace and satin underneath.

“You think I don’t know what my—ah, Christ—what my men think of you? How my men think of you?” He tongues a little at the bite, using his front teeth to scrape off a few half-formed scabs, blood rushing to pool in their place. “You think I don’t see the way they look at you?”

A whine stammers in your throat, your back arching a little more as your cunt quivers around his cock, that drove of butterflies sending your stomach swooping, the organ tensing, tying itself into thick knots pulled tight and taut with each plunge of his cock.

Mikey laughs again, the sound nothing more than a deep, dense vibration rumbling within his ribs, seeping into your back and sending tingles up your spine.

“Would you like to see the way they look at you?”

“H-Huh?”

Oh, how adorably fucked out you already are, mind gone dumb and numb to everything but him, but his voice and his touch and his steadily driving cock; oh, how adorably easy it is to make you this fucking idiotic.

“Look over there,” he presses his cheek into yours, forcing your head to turn and follow his gaze.

Across the club, Rindou sits with an elbow resting on the edge of the bar, a glass dangling from his fingertips. His eyes are cavernous, carnivorous, a smirk smearing across his face as your stare meets his, heavy lids framing a leering look.

Using a shoulder, he nudges his brother’s stomach, jutting his chin toward you and his Boss in indication when Ran looks down in question, redirecting his attention.

Now they’re both watching you, with doped up violet eyes and identical sleazy smiles, toothless and worming.

It makes you want to scrub and scratch at your skin, their gazes painting you in a thick coat of grime, body soiled by their lust and left feeling dirty, feeling gross, a strong shiver crawling across your flesh.

Your head jerks reflexively, desperate to hide from their lechery, skull knocking against Mikey’s hard enough to send thorns of pain searing through your temple.

A yelp cracks in your throat, and Mikey snorts, seemingly unfazed.

“Aw,” Mikey tuts in false admonishment. “Don’t get shy now. Look at them. Look at them while you ride my cock.”

“M-Mikey—” your eyes shut tightly, a pitiful attempt to escape their invasive eyes, head shaking in little judders.

“C’mon,” he goads, forcing you to face their stare. “You want them all to see, right? How good my little girl is? How pretty my little girl is?”

Peeking through your lashes, you squint at the Haitanis, features teetering on the verge of a wince, as if you’re expecting them to physically strike you.

They’re still looking at you, wide and unblinking, speaking out of the side of their mouths in laughs and murmurs to one another.

Dressed in matching pin-striped suits and thick suspenders, Rindou has discarded his jacket, shirtsleeves rolled haphazardly up his forearms to his elbows, first few buttons of his shirt popped undone, revealing a defined collarbone.

Predictably, Ran is still the perfect picture of poise and elegance, not a single hair out of place, suit jacket square on his shoulders and flawlessly tailored to his body, each stitch outlining his edges.

Tweedledum and Tweedledee respectively, and just as treacherous.

Whatever it is they’re saying to each other, they’re clearly enjoying themselves, amusement playing in glassy irises as Ran rests a hand around Rindou’s neck, slim fingers pressing into plush muscle. His younger brother instantly relaxes into his touch, mollifying back against his stomach and hooking an arm around his thigh, hugging it to his ribs.

And it’s the way they’re looking at you, as if they’re peeling the clothes from your body and the skin from your bones and peering into the depths of your soul to dance with your demons and devour your secrets; as if they’re singeing your expression into their minds, the sight of your features saturated in perturbation and pleasure branded into the tissues of their brains, carved into the walls of their skulls, ensuring they’ll never forget.

Everything feels overexposed as they pry you apart bit by bit, heady mix of hedonism and humiliation hazing over your brain.

Mikey’s hips slow to a drag, thighs tensing and soles of his boots skidding across marble as he expertly angles his hips and presses up, rubbing the head of his cock over your g-spot in slow, controlled motions—back and forth, back and forth, over and over and over again.

And the moan that claws at your throat is almost obnoxious, is definitely embarrassing, which means Mikey needs to fuck at least three more from your chest, grunting a little with the effort as his cockhead jabs against that plush spot, hard and precise.

A whine that sounds suspiciously like his title, tangled in spit and weighted with shame, spills from your lips, and you nestle your face against his own even as your hips jolt, desperate for comfort, desperate for cover.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” he nuzzles your damp cheek. “I know you do. I can feel it.”

It’s true, he can—you’re sure he can, with the way your straining little hole keeps pulsing around his length, another stream of heat cascading down his shaft, viscous and wet and so, so much, to pool in the folds of his balls, to stain the waistband of his pants and the velvet of the couch.

But you know he likes it just as much as you do.

Because you’re both so fucking naughty, so fucking nasty, but the depravity just works to heighten it all, makes it that much better, amplifying every touch and brush and tease and fondle and making it all feel so fucking good, even as Mikey’s pace eases into something unhurried, his thrusts turned languid but powerful.

So you join in, you rise to his challenge, a sick little game the two of you play, a sick little game you force others to participate in—because you’re fucking untouchable.

“Do you think their cocks are hard, Daddy?” you ask, the question dripping with syrup as you roll your hips backwards, slow and purposeful, returning the Haitanis’ smouldering stare through fanned lashes, unblinking and tenacious.

“Ah, f-fuck,” Mikey’s cock jolts, rhythm stammering for a moment before he regains his composure. “Yeah, baby, I bet they’re wishing they were me right now.”

You bet they are, too, mouths stopped moving and gazes gleaming with want, lips parted with uneven exhales pushed from their heaving chests, entirely enchanted by your movements.

It’s the most affected and authentic you’ve ever seen them before, and it sends a thrill of power shooting through your body, blood left fizzing in its wake.

One of them reaches into their pocket, groping around blindly for their phone, not daring to spare a second of their attention away from you, and Mikey snarls, nose scrunched in disgust and lip curled in a sneer, baring gritted teeth.

Because that’s too much, that’s crossing a line, and Mikey swiftly redirects your face, effectively hiding your expression from the Haitanis’ hungry eyes.

Mikey’s always liked to show off. Mikey’s never liked to share.

He swaps shoulders quickly, the defined hinges of his jaw clasped firmly over your collarbone, and smushes his face flush to yours again, skin clammy with sweat.

“And look over there,” he steers your gaze toward the other side of the club, where Kokonoi sits with a smattering of men surrounding a tall cocktail table, littered with crystal glasses and white lines.

The men around the table are laughing about something, sloshing liquor and cutting powder into thick, fat stripes, but Kokonoi isn’t paying attention to any of it.

No. Kokonoi is looking at you.

His eyes snap away when they meet your own, head whipping forward with such speed and such force it’s a marvel he doesn’t instantly give himself whiplash. A deep laugh rumbles in Mikey’s throat in response, something dark, something decadent.

“He’s gonna go home and touch himself to you, too,” he says. “He might not even make it before he goes home; might end up jerking his cock in a bathroom stall or the front seat of his car.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, look at him,” Mikey snorts. “He’s so hard he’s about to burst outta his pants.”

Following the line of Kokonoi’s body, your gaze travels downward, to the straining lump in his white pants. His hips shift a little uncomfortably as his thighs tense, hands curled into fists on his knees as he steadily trains his stare forward at the wall opposite of him, throat bobbing with a thick swallow.

Mikey’s right—Koko’s about to burst.

The thought of Koko rushing to his car to collapse in the driver’s seat, head tipped back against the headrest and hand shoved down his pants as his palm rubs frantically at his hard cock, or hastening to the washroom to lock himself in a stall, forehead pressed tightly to the rickety door and panting out stuttered, half-stifled whimpers hotly against his upper lip as he hurriedly relieves the problem you’ve created, is almost too much to bear, stomach clenching in time with the throbbing of your cunt, a torrid pressure building and burning in your gut.

The sudden acceleration of Mikey’s thrusts snaps you out of that tangle of thoughts, effectively drawing every ounce of your attention back to him.

A mewl pries past your lips, sharp and high and cracking at the end, whole spine arching as Mikey resumes his assault on your favourite spot, cockhead driving hard and fast against plush flesh.

“They can look all they want, but you’re mine.” His fingers tighten, his grasp rigid and unbreakable, the words nothing more than a snarl spit in your ear, wet and harsh. “I won’t fuckin’ share.”

“Never, never, never,” you babble in time with the bouncing on his lap, head nodding in sloppy motions with each repetition of the word.

“Never,” he growls, teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder sloppily, excess spit dribbling from the corners of his mouth as he breaks the skin for the second time tonight and sucks hard, drawing blood from the string of tiny wounds.

It has another cry escaping your throat, whole face crinkling in a sordid mixture of pleasure and pain, head instinctually thrown back against your Daddy, automatically giving him more room to work. Drops of watered down blood drool down your back and Mikey takes a moment to admire them, mesmerised by the way they shimmer in the strobing lights of the club, before he licks at them with the tip of his tongue, leaving crude strokes of fresh spit in their wake.

He’s the motherfucking Boss.

And the Boss gets what he wants, where he wants, when he wants, always.

He’s really fucking you now, vicious and vigorous, your entire body juddering in his lap as his hips piston up, cockhead pounding against that sensitive mound of tissue buried deep within you.

Each thrust shoves another shattered sound from your tongue, splintered moans of his name and his title pouring past your lips in a jagged stream.

The knot your stomach has twisted itself into strains under the building pressure, growing heavier and heavier with each jackhammer into you, stretched taut and stiff and ready to snap.

It’s all so much, the ogling eyes and the ramming of his cock and the tightening in your belly, every muscle in your body coiled and aching for the ecstasy that comes with release. Your breath mangles with the mewls shoved from your lips with every slam up, sticking to your throat and you cough, wheezing past the splinters. It’s all too much, and—!

“M’gonna, m’gonna cum, Daddy!” you gasp, tears dotting the corners of your eyes, sparkling in spidery lashes.

“Yeah, baby?” he breathes, voice dropping to a ragged rasp. “You gonna cream all over Daddy’s cock? Huh? Make a mess on my cock surrounded by all of Daddy’s closest and most esteemed colleagues?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you nearly sob out, palms curling over his wrists, nails clawing at the delicate skin, desperate for an anchor.

“My dirty fucking girl,” he hisses out, sharp breath stinging your cheek. “Such a good—Ah—good little slut for me, aren’t you?”

You can no longer respond, rendered stupid from the ardor, potent pleasure corroding your brain and gnawing through your synapses. It’s downright intoxicating, it’s fucking insatiable, it’s simultaneously immense and insufficient, way too much yet not nearly enough, because you need more, you need more, unintelligible pleads shattering on your tongue.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, baby, gush all over Daddy, make a pretty mess on his lap for him. Show everyone in this Goddamn club how gorgeous you look cumming for me.”

And so you do, ever your Daddy’s best girl, body eager to obey its owner as your cunt convulses around him, copious amounts of slick cascading down his shaft to drench his thighs, sticky and sharp and so fucking sick as he continues to bounce you in his lap.

The spasming of your cute little hole draws the sweetest whine from the back of his throat, panted out against the curve of your ear, and another bout of warmth rushes to the apex of your thighs, earning you a shuddered little curse, the exhale sweltering against your sweaty skin.

You sound so pretty right before you cum, Daddy.

Three more pumps of his hips and he’s following, thrusts stuttering as he fucks up messily into you, cock throbbing almost violently and stuffing you to the brim with thick, hot cum. Strong hands hold you firmly in place, cockhead pressed flush to your cervix as he spills himself into you, as he forces you to take every fucking ounce of what he’s giving you.

And you love it, you love it, you love it, you’re telling him, sentiments pouring from your mouth in a jumbled stream, singular and continuous until your lungs run out of air, voice cutting off with a squeak.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Mikey’s murmuring into your skin in response, lips leaving smears of sugary saliva just below your earlobe.

He allows you to sit on him for a moment, chest heaving against your back with ragged breaths, sweaty forehead pressed tightly to your shoulder. Tilting your head, your rest your cheek on the back of his skull, eyes slipping shut as your own heart begins to calm, cunt still pulsating irregularly around his shaft, almost as if it’s attempting to squeeze a few more drops out of him, his cock acting as a crude plug, keeping most of his cum buried inside of you.

Finally, his head lifts, pressing a tender kiss to the blood-encrusted bite glittering on your shoulder.

“Go get cleaned up in the washroom,” he mutters gently, pressing another string of kisses along your jaw. “Don’t wipe away any of Daddy’s cum; let it soak into your panties real nice and good, let them get really wet, and then snap a few pictures and send them to me. Can you do that for me, angel?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you slur out, nodding in loose, liquid movements.

“Good,” he pats your thigh twice. “Now, go.”

A small noise of affirmation sounds in your throat, head still nodding as Mikey helps you stand between his spread thighs, hands on your waist keeping you upright while you wobble on unsteady legs.

And the noise that you make as his cum and your slick surges out of you—something caught somewhere between a mewl and a whine, turned on and disappointed simultaneously—is the cutest thing he’s ever heard, a muted coo slipping from his own lips as your hands wrap around his, using them to further stable yourself.

He holds you for a moment or two longer, making sure you’re sturdy and your knees won’t suddenly give out, before giving you one final squeeze and releasing you, smirking a little as he watches you teeter away on rickety feet.

Initially, his plan was to have you capture a few naughty photos for him—pretty little things to stash away in his phone for later use, during the nights he’s forced to spend away from you, sitting in expensive cars or laying in lush hotel beds—and force you to wear the gluey, cum-drenched undies for the remainder of the party.

But then his phone is buzzing, and he’s unlocking it to find your cunt perfectly outlined by thin silk as it sticks to your folds, little clit and hole contoured and accentuated by the slick, shining fabric, soiled by a large, irregular patch of wetness, and oh, there’s no way he’ll be able to wait until you arrive home to fuck you again.

No, he needs to fuck you now, a sudden burst of adrenaline buzzing through his veins, little sparks and minuscule explosions that have him up and moving in under a second, cock already beginning to fill with life again.

Sheer, potent power permeates the atmosphere around him, trembling off his body in sharp bolts; dense, heavy, cracking with electricity.

The way the crowd instantly parts for him is awe-inspiring, their gleaming eyes full of terror and worship, hastily tripping over their own toes and ankles to move from his path as he strides toward the washroom, desperate to not be stung by his brilliance, desperate to get as close to the currents as possible without being scathed.

You’re just exiting the restroom by the time he reaches you, breath punched from your lungs as he backs you into a tiled corner, trapped between the cold wall and his scorching form, his hands splayed wide on either side of your shoulders.

“We gotta go,” he’s nearly panting out as he shoves his forehead against yours, eyes closed and noses nudging, straining cock grinding unceremoniously into your hip. “We gotta go, now.”

And, well, Daddy always gets what Daddy wants.

#mikey sano x reader #mikey sano smut #mikey x reader #mikey smut #bonten mikey smut #bonten mikey x reader #bonten x reader #bonten mikey x you #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjiro smut #mikey x you #bonten smut #tokyo revengers smut #SORRY ITS SO LATE HAHA PLS ENJOYYY #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you

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thefanbasewhore · 8 months

Text

Skz think your skirt is too short. | Bangchan, Felix, Hyunjin and Changbin.

a/n: currently accepting preference/blurb requests for stray kids (NSFW included)

💖🌷Bang Chan:

The moment he sees you slip from the room he stands just a little bit taller. Eyes roaming over those legs, bare and soft. Your skin is forever tattooed in the pads of his fingers which he feels twitch, wanting to feel the soft ribbons of your skin.

The skirt was cute, it's flowy and matches the color of your white socks. Without even realizing he's grouping the back of your thigh, pushing you close until you're cuddled into his chest.

He presses a gentle kiss to your head but just like that a light goes off. Full protective mode is on. The brunette's hands clasp at your shoulders and pull you away to take one more look. If he's thinking this so will other guys.

"Babygirl," He starts softly, "You look so so cute and I love it but isn't is a little short?"

"But Babe," You whine, pouting and meeting his eyes. "It's not that short."

Chan scoffs, raising his eyes brows. "Yeah? Bend over, love, we'll test it."

Crossing your arms against your chest and not caring to move a muscle to challenge him. Not wanting to fall into exactly what he wants; for you to change.

"I want to wear it." Chan huffs, rolling his eyes but you know it's a facade, he can never be made at you. He pulls his hoodie off and over, messing his hair in the process but he still looked so cute as he wrapped the sleeves around your waist.

He doesn't move once it's tied; instead simply presses a kiss to your forehead. "What my baby wants she gets."

💖🌷 Felix:

The restaurant is rather crowded, he's skimming past the tables, looking around to find you. He is rather busy but promised he would make a quick trip to meet your friends. The relationship is fairly new, however, meeting the people who mean the most to you is important to him.

What he doesn't expect is you sandwiched between two guys. Well, that's dramatic, seated in SEPARATE chairs between two men. One of them has his arm resting on the back of your chair as he brings his phone closer to show you something.

As he walks closer he can't help but look at your legs, bare but crossed, causing your skirt to ride up more. No doubt the man next to you is getting an eye full. Felix pulls at his jacket, sleeve by sleeve and clears his throat; directly behind you.

Before you can even realize it's him he lays the jacket over your legs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Hi baby."

"Hi everyone." He bows politely. "I'm Felix."

The night went pretty well, they all seemed impressed. One of the men gave their seat up for him. During conversation he leans forward to whisper into your ear, "Your skirt is a little short, yeah?"

He watches as your nose scrunches, Felix was never protective like this before. Besides who is he to tell you? "Excuse me?"

He seems to have noticed the change, "Not like that baby, you look so pretty. I mean you keep pulling it down and moving. Just uncomfortable?"

Oh sweet little Felix, it makes you pout slightly and apologize, "I'm sorry Lix, I thought you meant something else."

"No worries, love, we can go back to mine. I'll give you some of my sweats to wear. Get my angel nice and cozy." He reaches and pinches the skin of your cheek affectionately but his hand drops once realizing the whole table is staring at you both. He clears his throat, turning as red as you in embarrassment.

💖🌷Hyunjin:

"No," Hyunjin says a little too quickly for your liking the moment you step out of the room. A frown forms on your lips showing your own disappointment.

"But I think it's cute and matches so well."

"No." His brows scrunch together, as his long finger nudges you gently to turn. The moment you do he's repeating himself, "Absolutely not."

"Baby.." you get but he's not having it.

"Too short. If you were going with me then yes, not out with your friends."

"Why not?"

"There's a lot of creeps out there, I don't want anyone thinking they will get a peak." His hand meets the small of your back, gently guiding you to the bedroom. "A little longer, petal."

"Hyunjin, I will look out for myself."

"Please, just change?" His face is only inches from your own, lips forming a soft pout. You're about to tell him no but those damn puppy eyes make you sigh.

"Fine but I'm mad at you." He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"We can go out to dinner tomorrow and you can wear it, promise, flower."

💖🌷 Changbin:

"Baby," He pouts softly watching as you apply mascara. On your tippy toes, reaching over the bathroom sink to see which makes your skirt rise up just enough to see the bottom of your underwear. "You can't go out like this, it's too short."

Changbin comes behind you, both hands on either sides of the counter, boxing you in. He's so big he takes up most of the space but you just continue to apply your makeup. "Honey, I said it's too short." He whispers against your skin before softening his words with a kiss at the shell of your ear.

"It's fine, Bin."

"Nooo." He practically whines, "You look too good, everyone is going to be staring at you."

"No one is going to be looking at me."

"What if you need to bend down? Everyone is going to see your panties and cute little butt, it's mine." He makes you laugh as you turn around wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Do you want to come with us?"

You watch his eyes light up, you want him to come to dinner with your friends?

"Wait, really babe?"

"Mhmm, of course you're always invited." Before you know it he's scrambling to get dressed but not before throwing a pair of stalkings your way.

"Sorry baby, it's so short. For my peace of mind."

#stray kids imagine #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #hyunjin x reader #felix lee x reader #changbin x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids

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partycatty · 4 months

Note

Johnny cage and mayB some others being mind numbingly in love

Like they talk to reader and everytime just feel so stupid afterwards because theyre so in love and do stupid shit to impress

i love stupid men anon this works so well for me

johnny, raiden, kung lao, syzoth > stupid in love

warnings: big stupid hot sexy men (what else is new?), bojack horseman minor spoiler?? LMFOAMOF

+ bonus surprise character at the very end

masterlist

johnny >

• have you guys LMAO have you guys seen the. DLGHSDKJ the episode of bojack horseman where bojack gives diane the D in from the hollywood sign?? johnny is SO extra like that and for WHAT.

• OR YOU GUYS KNOW WHEN TODDLERS LIKE REALLY WANT TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING AND THEY JUST KEEP SAYING "LOOKIT" LMFAFOIFMOA

• "reader, reader are you watching - reader, reader watch -" as he's like about to absolutely FUCK UP a nerds rope or some stupid shit

• okay i'll be fr. johnny is by far the most concerningly extra of the entire group. he will put himself in stupid danger just to impress you.

• "watch me take on all these guys at once!" he'll call out to you during your time at the academy, surrounded by a dozen monks. he's in a sling and bandages the next day.

• "kenshi, i bet you sento that i can jump from the roof like bi-han did!" BAM.

• he'd randomly give you expensive gifts out of absolutely nowhere. or he'd give his one of many glasses away to you because he "has no use for them" or they're "out of style" (he's lying, he just wants to see you wear something that's his).

• oh? you briefly mention you're a tad chilly during training? oh no, johnny's top fell off, i guess he has to give it to you now. you know, to stay warm. oh, you don't want his top? okay, here's a comically fluffy, expensive coat! and it just so happens to be your size...!

• lowkey i headcanon johnny as, despite being an actor, pretty blushy if someone matches his energy or really gets under his skin. you'll pass by him with a witty comment about his fighting style, or even just to tell him he cleaned up nice after getting his ass kicked by raiden. johnny just stands there with steam spitting from his red ears, hand on his chest as he fights a stupid grin.

• he is down ASTRONOMICALLY. not even the elder gods can stop this man from being so drunk in love when you're around. he makes it everyone's problem.

raiden >

• we see how flustered he gets when he's called out by kitana. he's a grown man with dick and balls but he's also flustered very easily! he'll be decently vocal about his affection for you, but then word trickles down to your ear, at which point it's so over for him.

• walks into walls when he's so entranced by you training. like face first into a wall, his hat fluttering to the ground. kung lao loses it.

• he can't even hear what you're saying when you speak to him, it sounds like an angel muffled by the clouds of heaven. raiden's also not the greatest with his powers granted by the amulet. if you go in to touch his arm playfully, a jolt of electricity pricks your palm and you yelp. raiden can only sputter apologies as he bows down, his cheeks tinted.

• he's the type to do little favors for you, ones you barely notice. your spot at the table is tidied, the training dummy is prepped for your fighting style, or he's the first one to bring you something if you forget it. that, and tiny favors to butter you up to him.

• "reader, you said you were nauseous last training. i prepared you some tea," he'd slide the small cup over to you, fighting a goofy smile. he rehearsed his script a few times, so he sounded more static than intended.

• will ask you questions about training or the weather just to hear your voice. he couldn't even recall what you were saying, he just loved the way your lips moved.

• kung lao pokes at him for this often, nudging him or making comments about you being his partner when you're not. raiden will stomp on his foot to keep him from talking about his infatuation if you're around. as if you don't already know.

kung lao >

• he's totally the bouncing on his heels type of man. he'll stare at you with a stupid grin, like a kid in a candy store.

• "was there something you needed, kung lao?" you'd ask as you tended to your own duties, organizing various equipment into baskets.

• "ah, no, not at all," he'd wave you off with a grin. "just enjoying... the view."

• you cringe at his words, chuckling to yourself as he speaks you in a daze. his mouth runs off before his brain can stop it from happening, so his biggest downfall with his crush is yapping. he'll sit there and explain his family history to you, or how much he hated farming cabbage, or his favorite meal at madam bo's just to keep you around long enough.

• kung lao always has this desire to keep you close by, so he continuously does stupid shit to keep you by his side. including but not limited to accidentally slicing his hands on his hat, one that he swore was a genius idea. in concept, probably.

• he wants to impress you so bad. SO BAD. anything he does is deserving of a bragging right if he's the one to do it. lao would totally try to shrug it off so you could gas him up more. any compliment, forced or not, was music to his ears.

• "yeah, i totally beat raiden," he'll check his nails nonchalantly as he leans against the wall, telling you the story of the cabbage competition for dinner against his best friend. "really swept him."

• "that's just not true," raiden would try to interject when he heard lao's version of the story. kung lao just holds eye contact with you, grinning, as he shoves raiden aside by his face.

syzoth >

• im sorry IM SORRY BUT I JUST LOVE THE HC THAT HIS TAIL WAGS I KNOW THATS NOT HOW THAT WORKS JUST- JUST BEAR WITH ME.

• you hear thumping when you're around, though you're never able to find out where it's coming from, so you chalk it up to the monks landing blows against the wooden dummies.

• but the sound lingers when you're at dinner. the table is... rattling.

• you look up to see if anyone else notices or if you were hit too hard during training. but, you see everyone staring past you. just down the table, syzoth is sitting with a pile of bugs on his plate, his tail thumping in and out of view.

• "syzoth," kenshi will gently say, leaning into his ear to whisper something. syzoth flushes a green tint and tries to resume to his meal, the bugs scurrying out of his chopsticks as he struggles to keep it together.

• out of respect for his dignity, you hold your tongue at his obvious affection. syzoth tries to keep it under wraps but he can't help it when you're just so cute!

• he'll stand close by you, inching closer and closer until you notice. he'll slip you little trinkets and flora with a small smile. anything from a rock that matches the shades of your eye, to a flower he picked by the gardens, to a stick. a nice stick, to be fair! you wonder if this is zaterran courtship.

• "it reminded me of you," he'd lean into your ear. your bedside table is decorated with various... outside decor.

BONUS! kitana >

• kitana knew she couldn't get entangled with the umgadi after seeing how risky mileena is with tanya, but my god were you breathtaking.

• you would often accompany her in the carriages as she waved to her people, eyes transfixed on her. you're devoted to her protection. it is your god-given duty. your eye contact was too much at times, and kitana would often catch herself staring at you, her hand suspended in the air. she'd forget to wave.

• "is everything alright, my princess?" you would ask innocently, in a low tone to avoid raising suspicion. kitana's mind short circuits when you call her... yours. even if you're referring to the umgadi's worship. she shakes her head and clears her throat, pulling her mask up higher to conceal her blush.

• if she were to give speeches on her mother's behalf or otherwise, she'd find herself forgetting what the rehearsed, or hell, struggling to rehearse. you were the one she'd come to for help with speeches, yet you made things ten times harder when you'd lean in to listen to her better. it makes her mind absolutely numb.

• "and you tell me to steer away from the umgadi," mileena would rasp into her ear as the sister sat on their thrones, you positioned by her side and eyes forward. "it seems you picked a favorite, sister."

• "i'm not the only guilty one," she'd hiss back to her sister, nodding at tanya. "it won't get in the way of duties, as long as mother doesn't know."

• you'd fight to netherrealm and back for your princess. as you fight off intruders or threats, kitana forgets to escape, instead transfixed on the way your muscles would contract and flex with each blow.

• she wants to be the one to care for your wounds. the power imbalance means nothing to her, you're her equal.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #syzoth x reader #syzoth #syzoth mk1 #kung lao #kung lao x reader #raiden mk1 #raiden #raiden x reader #kitana #mk1 kitana #kitana x reader #mortal kombat x you #marley writes ☆

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seraphicsentences · 2 months

Note

pleaseee could you write an abby anderson x weather girl reader where they’re at the WLF base and abby catches reader staring at her hehehe

IM SORRY FOR TAKING 100 YEARS TO WRITE THIS AND THEN DELIVERING THIS MID ASS PIECE. i do hope you enjoy though i love you babe 😚😚

tags: abby anderson x reader, abby anderson x weather girl, EXHIBITIONISM, cunnilingus (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), kinda mean abby anderson? idk man, the whole WLF base is probably a lil traumatized

AN: thank you to @insanermin and @f3mme-f4tale for reviewing this for me i’m endlessly grateful for the two of you bless your beautiful souls. credits to my favorite girl for helping me come up with what to write for this request. i love youuuu

it was the crack of dawn, sun just barely peeking its way over the tops of WLF’s buildings, yet the heat was unbearable.

“83 fucking degrees Fahrenheit, jesus christ,” you muttered to yourself, checking the stationed thermometers posted around the perimeter.

the base was, for the most part, quiet. only few unlucky individuals working mindlessly at their respective morning assignments.

you strolled down your usual path, squinting at the streams of sunlight cast on the side of your face, dancing into your vision.

“hey weather girl,” a voice called from behind.

abby anderson. as if you even needed to turn around to recognize her unmistakable, raspy, teasing tone.

you whipped around, watching intently as abby bent out from under a stock-filled tent, arms filled.

“need some help?” you joked, stifling a giggle that arose when abby dipped abruptly to catch a bag of bait between her teeth.

what you wouldn’t give to be that bag of bait, you bit your lip, eyes trained on abby’s busy mouth.

hmphmpsh abby sarcastically laughed against the plastic, snapping you out of your dirty-minded haze and sending a flush across the back of your neck.

you meet her examining eyes, breath hitching as she squints slightly, a smirk etched into her gaze. embarrassed at the thought of her catching you, you open your mouth in attempt to sway the conversation— but she beats you to it, breaking the stare-down a beat later, spitting the bag out into a small pile on the wood deck.

god, you would let her spit bait into your mouth if she wanted.

“so what’re we at today? it’s gotta be at least 90 out,” abby wipes at her forehead, making small talk as she organizes the rest of the stock.

“try 83. though i wouldn’t be surprised if we do reach 90 once the sun is fully risen,” you reply, raising a hand to block some of pesky rays ruining your god-sent view.

“no fucking waaaay!” abby drags out, astounded. “we are definitely at 90 by now, do you see me? im drenched!”

so am i, you think to yourself.

“trust the expert. your body temperature’s just extra high from physical exertion. whoever put you on for outdoor stock at this hour has it out for you,” you comment, eyes dragging as abby lifts the bottom of her tank to wipe her face, revealing a rather impressive display of rock-solid abdominals.

you catch her gaze, this time her having an eyebrow raised, and immediately look away, the flush on your neck spreading to the tips of your ears. as hard as you tried not to stare, abby wasn’t doing much to help, especially not while decked out in a translucent white tank, black bra beneath a stark contrast, begging for your attention.

abby’s dark green cargos hugged her thighs deliciously, highlighting her thick, defined quads as she shifted about.

lifting a large sealed box of who knows what from one end of the deck to the other, she grunted under the weight, leaving your mind to wander yet again to a different sort of situation where you might find yourself blessed enough to hear that pretty sound.

“yeah, whatever- i’ll tru-trust the expert,” she breathes out, voice strained. strands of her blonde— almost golden in the sun— hair stuck to her face with sweat, which glistened perfectly on her skin, making abby look almost angelic as she crossed into the sun’s direct heat.

“yeah,” you exhaled, at a loss for words under the confines of her entrancing beauty. you stood there a second longer, before suddenly snapping out of your daze, clearing your throat. “i’m, uh, gonna head to the station, i think,” you stuttered, despite your usual propensity for word flow heard throughout the WLF base every morning.

“desperate to get rid of me?” abby faux gasps.

you sputtered at her accusation, “no-no, i-“

“shhhh-shhh, i know honey, i know,” she cuts you off, bitable lips curling up into a half-smirk.

traitorous feet already walking their way towards the radio station, you desperately try to recover from your embarrassment, tripping over your words, “i-you, uh,” you try.

abby twists her head over her shoulder in your direction, cocking it in a way that makes your heart twist in your chest and a pulse thrum between your thighs.

“you can come!” you blurt without a second thought. “with me— i mean, to the station,” you add, trying to clarify.

faced with an jaw-dropped confused-yet beautiful abby anderson, you continue rambling, “it’s indoors! i mean obviously, because of the, um, radio equipment, but you know, you’re probably hot— well you are, but- shit- that’s not what i-“

“okay, okay, okay,” abby bursts out chuckling, which you’d enjoy a whole lot more if it weren’t at your sake, “you don’t have to convince me, sweetheart, i’m already there,” she holds her hands up in surrender.

your heart skips a beat at the nickname, brain racing at a million miles per hour when you catch the sight of abby’s built frame sauntering it’s way over to you, small towel slung lazily over one shoulder, braid swaying slightly with every step.

you swallow harshly at her approach, turning promptly around to lead the way in a brisk pace.

abby laughs to herself as she follows, “aw, don’t run, i want to see your pretty face.”

your face heats at the compliment, before proceeding to flush a nuclear red at another comment she mutters haphazardly under her breath, “though i’m not complaining about my view from here.”

she half jogs to catch up with you, though your supposed speed-walk is no competition for what she’d consider a stroll with her long limbs.

you see her looking-no, ravishing- your figure out the corner of your eye, her tongue pressed to the side of her cheek, as you silently yell at your cheeks to cool themselves down.

your eyes can’t seem to deny themselves such an appeasing view, though, darting to the side to steal a glance at abby’s translucent tank, and your attraction is clear, at least to abby.

“want something, honey?”

you cough in response, choking on the saliva you didn’t even notice gather as a physical response to abby’s presence (me), as the two of you, thankfully, arrive at the station at last.

“ladies first,” you joke, swinging the door open with the backwards weight of your body.

“such a gentlemen,” abby quips back, winking at you as she strolls through the opening.

the pair of you let out a collective sigh at the blast of cold air blowing softly from the studio. it’s a vacant space, but the constant flow of electricity needed to notify the base in the face of an emergency allows it to stay up and running.

you make a beeline to your set-up area, tangled wires running along every side of the desks, hooked up to all sorts of peculiar devices: microphones, barometers, fancy thermometers. abby finds herself surprisingly impressed by the sophisticated knickknacks you mindlessly twist and turn to read, as if flipping through a toddler-level picture book.

“where’d you learn how to work all of this?” she asks.

“stole some books off an old lab,” you reply, shooting her a shy smile, “like to read, i s’ppose.”

across the room, abby rests her elbows on the table behind her, crossing her legs and letting her head drop to one side. “smart girl,” she praises, cheeky smile slipping onto her face.

you bite the fat of your cheek, holding back a grin of your own before turning back to finish jotting down the day’s data into a tattered mini notepad.

you grab a sleek broadcasting mic off one of your shelves, shoving some of the wires aside on the main desk to make room for it to rest, before hooking one of the tinier cables into the mic, and twisting around to find an audio interface to plug the other end into.

“what am i doing here?” abby says all of a sudden, breaking your hustling focus.

you freeze, letting the cable drop as you look down. “i don’t know.”

abby pauses. “let me rephrase,” she strolls over, positioning herself lush behind you. she runs her arms down the sides of your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake in spite of it being blisteringly hot out.

“what do you want me to do here?” she rasps by your ear, your head subsequently tilting to feel the heat of her breath on your neck.

“i-i don’t kn-“

“yes you do. just like i know exactly the mess i’ll find under these itty bitty shorts of yours.” she whispers, “you’re a terrible liar, sweetheart.”

a whimper slips out from your lips, head rolling back onto abby’s shoulder as you meet her sharp eyes with your pleading ones. your legs cross, squeezing shut, humiliated by the arousal that had gathered in reaction to, what, a 5 minute conversation with her? how pathetic.

“don’t think i didn’t notice your ogling earlier,” she continues, tracing her big hands lighting across your stomach, feeling your skin rise and fall with your increasingly rapid breaths. “your eyes give you away. i know what’s going on in that pretty little mind up there.”

your lips part as you roll your head further, almost completing a circle. the way you’re faced, you’re breathing desperate huffs directly into abby’s own mouth. she grazes a hand up between your two breasts, hard and pointed from a combination of the room’s dropped temperature and your arousal, then sliding her grip gently around your neck, holding your face close in place.

“you think you can get away with those slutty thoughts of yours? makin’ everyone think you’re such a good innocent girl, but no, you’re just a fucking whore aren’t you? isn’t that right, pretty?” she presses, tsking at your averting gaze.

“eyes on me, honey. you can’t hide. tell me what you really what,” she says into your mouth, lips just barely brushing over your own, the fucking tease.

you pant, eyes glued to her tempting mouth, desperate to close the distance. but you’ve got a job to do, and what’s fun without a bit of teasing? she deserves a taste of her own medicine, the bitch.

“what i really want…” you whisper back, “is to tell the base how fucking hot it is today,” you say at a normal volume, pushing off her back, and finally plugging the mic into the audio interface.

“duty calls!” you joke, trying to calm your racing heart and ignore the dampness between your legs. you hook the final plug into the wall, hearing a whirring that lets you know everything’s ready to go, before stealing a quick glance at abby to see how she’s taking your unexpected change of demeanor.

abby stands frozen in place, mouth gaping, but tweaked into an almost-smile, evidently shocked. your stomach flutters at the hungry look in her green, now nearly black, pupils, roguish thoughts brewing.

you bring a hand to your heart, dropping your jaw to match hers as you shoot a mocking who me? look in her direction paired with a shrug. winking, you turn back to your morning duties and take a seat, tuning in the frequency.

a click of a switch, an automated voice, and that’s all there really is to it. you’re live.

and your heart’s pounding out of your chest.

and though you’re usually hit with the slightest bit of anxiety over the idea of being listened to by every single individual on the very base, that’s not what you’re thinking about. well, not exactly.

“good morning, WLF!” you chirp, standard lines slipping off your tongue with ease, “hope you all had a great night’s rest! i know i sure did. today is august 2nd, 2038, and boy, you guys in for a sweat today! let’s check in with sophie and see what she has to say— sophie, you’re on!”

shaking out a breath, you click a button to tune in a livestream from the second weather station across the base, sophie’s station.

“hey girl, what’s up?” sophie’s cherry voice comes crackling through.

“the usual. wanna tell us how things have been looking on your end?”

“you betcha! good morning WLF, you heard it from our girl yourselves, it is goddamn hot out! my readings say that…” sophie continues, rattling off her collected data in a long, number-filled ramble.

you tune out, waiting for your cue to list your end’s data as you bounce your leg mindlessly up and down.

“oh you’ve really got everyone fooled, huh?” abby drawls behind you. you jump, temporarily forgetting her presence in the midst of your reporting.

you swivel your chair around to her, smiling cheekily as you press a finger to her lips in silence’s universal sign.

oh? abby mouths. we’re still live? she asks.

you nod your head slowly.

“then you’re gonna have to keep quiet for me sweetheart,” she leans in to whisper at a decibel just barely above zero. “unless you want everyone on base to know how much of a slut you are,” she adds, dropping to her knees before you.

“what are you-?!” you whisper hastily, stopping yourself to mutter lowly, “i’m the slut? look who’s on their fucking knees in a fucking radio station.”

she presses a chaste kiss to your thigh, smiling and shhhhing against your skin, mumbling, “shut up and focus. the base depends on you.”

with even just the lightest brush of abby’s buff frame against your knees, your legs fall open, beckoning her between them.

invisible hands to pulling her into your trap.

“abby,” is all you can get out, panting in need of her touch.

“focus, baby.”

she pulls your shorts and underwear down to the floor with a swift tug, smirk haughty as faced with your dripping mess.

“knew it,” she mouths, looking up devilishly at you. keeping your eyes trapped in her hypnotic gaze, she leans in slowly, tongue out, to catch your weeping pussy in a french kiss.

“fuck,” you breathe out, thighs trembling in resistance to clamp her head between them only just to keep her tongue against you.

she makes out sloppily with your folds, hands gripping your waist tightly to lock your body in place, pressing you firm against the chair despite your incessant squirming.

the point of her tongue traces down in a tease, slipping just barely into your pulsing hole to steal a taste of freshly dripped slick, before running it back upwards to firmly press into your neglected clit.

“ah!” you hiss, head thrown to the ceiling as your nails dig into the arms of the chair, hips attempting to buck further into abby’s warm mouth.

“you there, station one? i think the connection’s a bit warbly today,” a crackly voice interrupts your mind fog.

shit. sophie must’ve finished her report by now. you situate yourself up as best as you can— seeing as how abby won’t let go of your hips, or move away for that matter.

“hey sophie, yes i’m here! sorry ‘bout that, i-uh, yeah. there must be something up with the frequency today,” you sputter out.

“no worries! why don’t you go ahead and share your mornings data with us?” she laughs back.

“yeah, yeah, so my rea-fuck-“

you sharply take in a breath, sucking in your teeth. you look down. god, if that isn’t the hottest sight you’ve ever seen.

abby’s looking up through her eyelashes, your arousal smeared across the bottom half of her face, dripping to her chin. she dashes out a tongue to catch the corner of her mouth, smirk wolfish from her mischievous actions. she lifts an eyebrow, matching your prior who me? mock, as if she didn’t just set every nerve ending of your clit alight.

and while you could be absolutely furious with her for fucking with you on live, all you want from her is more.

“everything alright, station 1?”

you jump. “i-sorry- just, uh banged my knee up.” you mean to shoot a scolding look at abby, but just wound it up to be embarrassingly pleading.

she pouts sarcastically, and without breaking eye contact she bows in again to capture your puffy clit between her lips, sucking softly while flicking her tongue over and over again. it’s downright sinful.

“oh!” you whine, right hand darting to tug at abby’s braid, keeping her moving face moving against the place you need her most.

“um, station 1, i can take over if you’d like?”

your face flames. caught up in abby’s dizzying ministrations, your body’s screaming to say yes. yes, as in, yes sophie please fucking take over. and yes, as in, yes abby right there.

and you almost do, say yes to the first one, i mean. but a stinging pinch from abby tips you the other way.

“i, shit, sorry- i mean, yeah, sorry. sorry kids! don’t listen to me!” you babble, eyebrows scrunched and hips still grinding.

abby continues to torture your clit: her warm, wet tongue lapping up every last drop of your slick and pressing it rhythmically against that swollen button. your cunt tightens around nothing, desperate for something, anything, to fill ‘er up.

shit, you mutter to yourself, thrumming pussy impossible to ignore. “the temp-ah-temperature o-on my end read 83 degrees on my e-enndd-god,” you carry on, breathless, “ahem. we’re looking at clear, s-sunny skies all day, so be sure to wear some sort of- mmph- heat protectant,” you finish off your sentence sounding quite a bit more like a pornstar doing a dirty beach-scene than intended, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“give me one, uh, one sec-cond to double check the read- readings,” you stumble out quickly.

“no problem! while we wait on our girl, WLF, i’ll tell you about what last minute assignments we still need people for, so listen up…” sophie entertains.

“abby,” you whine, covering the mic with your free hand in attempt to muffle your sounds. you can barely form a sentence with the way her nose nudges your clit while her tongue runs zig zags along your folds.

“i know,” she cooes, chucking, “keep it down, you’re on live.”

you silently will yourself not to cry out when abby stretches your legs further apart, shaking her head left and right to stimulate every crevice of your weeping cunt. back arching off the chair, you whimper out a strangled noise, “i cant, i cant, i cant” you chant.

abby’s drags turn to kisses, watching your legs tremble with an endearing gaze as she makes her way up your stomach and to your face. pressing a kiss against your cheek, then your nose, and alas, your parted lips, she whispers, “this is what you wanted, wasn’t it? so shut up and be good for me, yeah baby?”

you nod feverishly, heavy-lidded and staring intoxicated as abby bites bruises into your neck, only to soothe it a moment later with a flat-striped lick of her tongue.

“mmm god, abby, i need you,” you practically slur out, moaning her name like a ritual.

“you’ve got me,” is all she says. her calloused hand slides up from the bottom of your shirt, squeezing your breast harshly, as if she can’t get enough, needing to completely ravish you.

“here, abby, need you here,” you groan, emphasizing it with the buck of your hips.

“alright, alright,” she shushes you with a kiss, hand sliding back down to cup your heat gently, feeling your desperation. “right here, huh? you aching for it, sweetheart?”

your only response is to catch her lips in a needy kiss, tongue pushing into her mouth, eager to taste yourself on abby.

hmmph abby groans against your lips, fingers dipping shallowly into your coated hole.

“you can scream my name as loud as you want once you finish your report.“

“but-“

“you don’t want to let the base down, do you? how else are we supposed to know how dripping hot it’s gonna be out today?” she murmurs, emphasizing her words with a push of her thick fingers deeper into you.

your eyebrows scrunch, vision dizzy with need as you look up at the sight before you. a pretty pink hue glazing her sun kissed cheeks, abby tilts her head, finding delight in your struggle to come back to reality.

“c’mon, honey, you got it,” she purrs, running a hand to push the hair away from your face.

you narrow your eyes, pushing majority of the fog to a corner of your mind and uncovering your shaky hand from off the mic.

“sorry about that, folks,” you shakily speak up, “-and thanks soph. i’ll be out of your hair in just a second. as for today, we seem to be getting a light breeze coming in from the east at about 8 miles per hour, so it might hopefully provide a little bit of relief from the heat.”

in the meanwhile, abby hoists your figure up off the chair, shorts and panties still hooked askew around one of your ankles. a hitch in your voice signals your end’s confusion, but you continue on regardless, slave to abby’s actions.

she pushes your torso over slightly, having you put most of your weight on the desk as you hover over your mic, hair flicked over one shoulder.

“as for the air quality, it’s testing to be relatively clear. the spores don’t seem to be getting passed over by the wind, so no need to worry with the masks today! i’ll check in in the afternoon to see if that’s cha- nhghh,” you jolt forward, voice breaking and hips hitting the table as abby thrusts two fingers tightly into your heat from behind, twisting them to reach that ridged, aching spot.

“-changed,” you correct, exhaling sharply. your eyes roll involuntarily as abby picks up her pace, curling her fingers on every outstroke, other hand delivering languid circles to your puffy clit. you can feel the burn of her stare down your spine, head turning over your shoulder briefly to confirm, and catching sight of the two of you in the mirror on the back wall.

your flushed face, rumpled top, and trembling, kiltered, bent over position contrasted with abby’s working muscles as she stood strongly gripping your waist was a sight to behold.

“what would you do if i made you scream for me right now?” abby breathes out, grunting. “should we let the base know how much of a slut you are for me?” she asks, “fuck your special spot real good in front of everyone? right here?” she punctuates with a downright sinful massage against your g-spot.

she huffs out a quiet laugh when you rush to stifle a whimper against your forearm.

“nah, i think i’ll keep you for myself,” she says, tugging you by your hair to hiss “you’re mine.”

your legs nearly collapse right on the spot.

“like that, huh? now be good for me baby. you can take it,” she says lowly by your ear, fisting your hair back even more to take in your disheveled state before shoving your head down nose to nose with the mic.

you grip onto the stand in attempt to ground yourself. fucking abby.

“for now you sh-should be okay withou-ooout a mask on hand t-though,” you stumble through your words, racing to finish the report. “our trusty barom-meter indicates stable conditions— so i g-guess that means the- mmph- the world isn’t gonna expl-plode today?”

you fall to your forearms, losing balance with the aggressiveness of abby’s thrusts, walls clinging to her fingers, as if not to let a second by without her magic touch. abby kicks a leg between your two, sliding one to the side to spread you further before her as she slips a third finger in easily. your lips parts in a silent scream, hand racing to stuff it’s knuckle in your mouth to bite down on.

nails digging into the table, and mind begging forgiveness from god for all the fucking sin you’re committing, you speed

through a shitty conclusion, “overall, it’s a g-great day to sweat. that’s all i’ve got for you to-today. stay safe, stay cool, and enjoy the sun! bye!”

you rip the cord out of the audio interface before you can get the entirety of your final word out, loud moans borderline pornographic from being held back for so long.

“aw, you didn’t enjoy having an audience?” abby teases, fingers speeding up to coax more of your sounds out.

“fuck you, abby,” you gasp out, collapsing face-against-the-desk in pleasure.

“it’s okay, honey, your drenched pussy answers my question— i mean, look at you dripping right down my fingers,” she rasps, pinching your clit meanly.

god, you wanted to shove her fucking face into your cunt. at least that would get her to shut up.

“abby, i’m gonna-!” you cry, knees threatening to buckle.

“show me, pretty girl. fucking come all over my hand,” she spreads your sticky folds with a spare finger, swiping at the edges to effectively stimulate every part of your core.

you buck your hips back with every thrust, desperate to finish as you scream abby’s name like it’s the only word you know.

“fuck,” abby curses under her breath, arm curling around your front to hold your crumbling body up, hands busy bringing you to heaven. she wanted to live in this moment.

“ah- god, abs!” you weep, forehead digging into cables as you shudder in ecstasy, cum dribbling out of your overworked pussy, coating abby’s hands in your mess.

“god, abs,” you repeat between gasps, slowly regaining your vision back as abby lifts you up to lean your sweating figure against her matching one.

“so much for escaping the heat, huh?”

~ man oh man i tried guys. hope this satiated your weather girl needs ;)

817 notes · View notes

voxisdaddy · 21 days

Note

İ have a request, how would hazbin hotel and angels (or archangels) reacts to a coqquette girl demon?

İf you dont know what iş coquette is, here some ideas

Coquette Sins

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

C/TW: Sexual themes, swearing, some way longer than others, a lot of these are based off appearance sorry, made reader a sinner rather than demon since demon is very vague in the hellaverse lol, not proofread

In which how various Hazbin Hotel characters + Striker react to a demon who brings a fresh aesthetic to hell-aka, a coquette sinner!

Alastor

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I can't say you'd be very intriguing to Alastor based off this aesthetic if I'm completely honest. He frequents Cannibal Town a lot-which while not coquette at all-the colour palette are closely similar and blends in together. Your look being more romantic and innocent looking in comparison however at a longer glance. So you wouldn't per say stand out at first glance, but even when he notices he isn't exactly intrigues. Hell is filled with many people who can look however they want, whatever way they want after all. So at first you're just another one of these poor sinners in this forever inferno. Somehow once you do get to know one another though, he picks up on certain mannerisms and certain things you like. One of the first being when he saw a little plushie you had purchased one day, now decorated with a neat little bow that matches with pretty much everything of you. From then on, he's sure that when he gifts you things, to keep an eye out for more specific things. It clashes with his aesthetic, but it's okay. Slowly he'll start to change your wardrobe to match his.

Lucifer

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lucifer doesn't think very highly of sinners, typical for the sin of Pride, but you're something new to him. He's well aware that human souls come in many different forms and that anyone can present themselves anyway they want, but coquette was a rare one. Anyone who resembled innocence, sweet romantics, and softness was often the target of bullying and harassment in hell-which serves him all the more reason to roll his eyes and dismiss a lot of sinners. Meeting you was a blessing in his eyes. Regardless of whatever judgements you may face you seemed to never stray away from who you are. He's become protective of you because of this. I mean he's protective of you regardless, you're very special to him after all, but you're basically a walking target for unnecessary bullying. Whenever he gifts you rubber duckies and carving of ducklings, he makes sure they are painted and decorated to fit in with your room. Because of your aesthetic by the way, you can match for date nights-which he loves very much!

Husk

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Husk wouldn't find you that intriguing either. He's been in hell for a very long time, seen lots of folk looking very different from one another. Nothing new. I think the longer he knows you though, the more he starts to question things. Nothing bad per say. It's more so because he starts to grow a crush on you and just now finds you more interesting. He'd definitely gift you things that match with your whole look. Especially plushies because come on, who doesn't like a good plushie.

Angel Dust

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Loves your look and aesthetic. It's like you're a different version of him-visually at least. You almost go hand in hand together in a sense. I can imagine two different first impressions of you based on appearance and just getting to know your personality on a very base level. One; he thinks you're one of Charlie's goody two shoes who don't know how to have fun but know how to ruin the fun of others. And two; if you're a dude here, someone he can have fun flirting with because don't you look like an inexperienced doll faced angel~

Sir Pentious

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I think your contracting aesthetics is lowkey a recipe for a cute af looking couple not gonna lie. Sir Pentious would probably be very adoring of you. Don't you look so darling! I feel like out of the main cast, he's been in hell the longest and has definitley seen your type of look before-especially when he was alive. You kind of remind him of those porcelain dolls that would be on the front of store windows. It's probably the leading factor as to why he adores you and treats you as if you're made of porcelain. Even if you're a baddie, yoiu're his baddie-who's also his sweetheart darling.

Charlie

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Charlie loves your aesthetic and how you carry yourself. It feels like such a breath of fresh air in this hellscape she calls home. She's definitely the type to ask what your hobbies are and if she can tag along to whatever it is. Now she'd never change herself to please anyone ever but she would likely, just for fun, dress up and match with you sometimes. Oh but please return the favour every once and awhile! It would make her so happy!

Vaggie

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vaggie as we know is from Heaven, so your type of look isn't new to her per say but it in a sense it does surprise her. This is hell, most people are usually clad in reds, pinks, and black. So your more, dare I say angelic, appearance is a mild surprise to her. She quickly gets over it though ass even in heaven the angels all didn't look like angels sometimes. Sure theirs halos and the feathery wings, but some peoples appearance mirrored some of the folk in hell. Vaggies own appearance and aesthetic clashing with heaven back in her angel days too. So she gets over her initial surprise. You're almost...nostalgic to her in a sense. She's definitely soft with you.

Cherri Bomb

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You're both like polar opposites honestly. She at first has her reservations on you. Based on appearance and personality actually. She understands that this is hell and that everyone can look however they want and some just fall looking a certain way. However this hoe likes to fight, thrives in the night life, high party girl energy, and being that bitch. So you'd naturally clash but after some time, especially in a relationship with you, she wouldn't wish for you to change yourself at all. As even Cherri Bomb needs some relaxing down time every now and then. So going to you and your relaxing and romantic sweet nature is almost spa like to her.

Rosie

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Like Alastor, you wouldn't stick out much to her at first glance because she sees people like you in Cannibal Towne at like every turn. She's wise though, she knows theirs a lot more to you and that you even find a way to stick our visually-intentionally or not. Your romantic look is just darling to her! She has to meet you! And once you do, to say this woman is smitten is an understatement. During a gossip session with Alastor, she definitely mentions you. You're the pearl of her eye. Even as your bond deepens, her smitten ways with you don't fade one bit. Probably has a few garments specifically catered to you with her own Rosie taste. She loves to match, so she'll hope you'll agree to meet her in the middle somewhere.

Carmilla

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ She likes to think you're a romanticized version of her. You're...not exactly that but it's close enough. You're a breath of fresh air for her honestly. Being an overlord and especially of her status, she tends to get migraines a lot. So seeing you and your more romantic soft look is already easing her a bit. She'd love to dance with you sometimes honestly. A nice slow dance with fun twirls, perhaps a music box or old record player even, as you unwind together sweetly. If it's alright with you, she'd love to fashion you with some angelic ballerina inspired shoes. Matching is cliche to her, but I headcanon she's lowkey a sucker for that stuff. Plus, it would be great for you to protect yourself with if worse comes to worse.

Vox

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You're an interesting one to him-especially since no one looks like you on his side of the Pentagram City. It excites him in a certain way-now get your head out of the gutter. It's a power thing. You look quite easy to manipulate, frail, weak, obedient-you could be a mindless doll. Getting you under contract would be easy, he tells himself. Of course, falling for you is the last thing he thought would come from this. But when that happens, you're no longer some doll he thinks he can control into being another one of his little workers. He can easily find out what type of music you listen to, what you like to do, furniture you may like, little shop items you always keep an eye out for, ect., He loves coming back home to you, or even when you visit him in his office. He's a stressed out guy with a lot on his plate. You're more soothing to him than you think.

Valentino

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino being Valentino thought you were quite the delectable thing. It's as if you're begging to be ruined, honestly. He's of course quick to try to coerce you into at the very least having sex with him. He's charming, he knows how to use that and be sweet into getting people to trust him. Say you guys are in a romantic relationship though. You somehow managed to take this monsters heart, he's surprisingly not as rough with you vs if you were some one and done bitch he had instead. You look like too much of an angel for him to wanna break so soon. He's still rough and loves it when its rough, but I mean, what do you expect? It's Valentino. He definitely gets you lingerie that match your look. Loves either seeing you wringle in it beneath him or degrading him while you're on top. Believe it or not it's not all about sex with this guy though when it comes to you. When he's in one of his tantrum moods, you're like his own personal angel to give him a hug til he calms down enough to go do something else more level headed.

Velvette

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ She admires your dedication to your aesthetic, but I can't say she likes it very much. It's cute and with the correct look it can look quite fashionable, but she of course has her own standards and strong preferences. I can imagine that when you move in together, she has a love hate relationship with your guys shared massive walk in closet. One half screams Velvette, and the other half screams you. It's satisfying to see the difference in aesthetics, but also annoying because of the obvious clash. She puts up with it though. It's not all bad, seeing as sometimes you two trade outfits. Not often cuz again this woman is very of her own preferences and makes the effort to maintain her aesthetic as often as possible. It does happen though, as sometimes something from your closet catches her eye and she'll either borrow it or design something inspired based off it.

Adam

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Adam first saw you when you went to visit Heaven with Charlie and Vaggie. He at first didn't even know you were with them. You looked like you belonged in Heaven, he had thought you were an angel tagging along with their running around with Emily. He didn't immediately catch onto the lack of halo and feathered wings but that's besides the point. He actually probably went to bother you several hours before the trial. He didn't like any of the sinner souls or demons, but damn it-why do hell get a lot of the hot bitches? I mean yeah everyone in heaven is hot, but maybe he just has a thing for demon bitches, he doesn't know. Plus, it would probably be a good time to grill you and maybe tease you. What? Are you a wannabe angel? Is that why you look like that and came to argue for that hotel?

Lute

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lute does not give a fuck because hello~you're a sinner. She first noticed you during an extermination. She had thought you were an angel actually, because of how you looked. She was initially startled and angry because why the hell would of the extermination angels just be out of uniform in a time like this? But she was very quick to catch onto the fact that you are not one of them so she moved to kill you. Ah but little miss angel wannabe, her words, is more vigilant than she thought. You don't get killed this extermination so when the angels are called back to return to Heaven, she glances back at the last place she saw you run into for shelter. She smirks to herself; you got lucky this year, angel wannabe. She almost wishes you see you again next year.

Emily

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Emily would notice you with this Angel Dust character when they viewed Angel's night out during the trial in Heaven. You seemed to be friends with this group. Even though the focus wasn't on you, she found herself hoping to see you appear through the heavenly lens more frequently. You looked so adorable! Internally she nicknamed you Hell's Angel. She must remain professional and focus on the trial at hand though, which she very much does. She still wishes to get one more glimpse of you once the move on from viewing Angel Dust's night out though. Even when the trial ends, after she deals with the harsh reality she didn't now about, she hopes that Charlie's dreams come true for a chance to properly meet you in Heaven.

Saint Peter

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This angel met you when you came up to the gates with Lucifer's daughter and her friend. When he realized who Charlie is and where this trio just came from, a part of himself silently wondered about you. You looked so...heavenly. You're really only visiting from Hell? Ha ha m-maybe theirs been some sort of mistake. You look like you belong up in heaven. Oh well. Eventually he get's to actually talk with you of course. It's not long but it's something. He almost feels foolish for thinking Hell wouldn't have sinners and demons who have certain aesthetics and preferences. Heaven has those things, why wouldn't hell have it? Maybe hell isn't the shitty eternal hellfire he and many other winners believed it out to be. I like to think that Peter when he's not wearing his robes, has a pastel filled wardrobe. Real soft boy energy. So if you ever get redeemed or can somehow be together, bc this man was whipped almost immediately, you'd match pretty well together.

BONUS!!

Striker

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You intrigued Striker a little bit at first glance. With a raised brow he watched as you smiled sweetly at him and waved before continuing on your way. He doesn't like interacting with the sinners much but he knows enough about them that you being you makes you a target for bullying and harassment. He naturally keeps his distance regardless and doesn't think of you again until he actually sees you again. By the time you end up dating, many compromises need to be made. First of all, sinners can't leave the Pride ring so he can't bring you home to the wrath ring. So he often makes trips to the pride ring to visit you, at some point your home becomes his home before either of you realize it. It kinda makes him feel off-he stands out like a sore thumb in your place. But he tries to not get you place dirty and tries to make sure he's not totally bloody when he shows up.

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK OVER A WHOLE MONTH LOVLEY STAR! I had no idea how to write about various characters reacting to a coquette!sinner!Reader without having so much overlap and I just evbsfvhsbk-

Here it is, finally TvT sorry for taking forever. Thank you for your patience!

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wisteriaiswriting · 4 months

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Can you do an autistic trans(if you do that) male reader who doesn’t really get social cues but is overall pretty quiet and reserved with the people from the Hazbin hotel?

𝕊𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝔽𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕪

Words: 1111

𝔸𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣:

He will be unaware at first, so his first impression about you is not good. Thinks you’re being rude on purpose, but when he finds out that's not the case he’ll feel slightly bad.

For his assumptions he’ll subtly apologize by dropping presents in your room (Unnamed of course.) and lending you a helping hand.

If you two become close he will take you to his tailor to get matching suits, different colours obviously, can’t have you taking his signature colour now, can we?

***

For the first few days you’ve been at the hotel Alastor has been weirdly stand offish. Others didn’t mind, often glad he’s staying away rather than closer. But you wanted to know why, so you asked Charlie.

Who asked Alastor, to which he gracefully answered.

“Well, I don’t enjoy seeing terrible manners around the hotel, surely you don’t either?” At his words the reason for avoidance clicked in her head.

“Why didn't you say so? Well knowing you, you wouldn’t… But Y/N isn’t that good with social cues, so he doesn’t mean any of, whatever he’s been doing.”

“Oh…” At her words he left the room, finding you. “Well hello my Handsome fellow,”

“Hi?” After his most recent actions you didn’t expect him to just waltz up to you.

“Unfortunately someone has ruined my suit,” Correct, a good chunk was missing. “And hopefully you would accompany me?”

“Sure, I guess?”

“Perfect!”

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕖:

She's unsurprisingly similar when it comes to social cues.

When it comes to you being autistic or trans she won’t notice, that’ll be the last thing she knows.

You two can not be left alone, someone will need to supervise you both.

***

It has been barely a week since you fell into hell and it’s been terrible. There were too many things happen that you could say or even recall, so today was meant to be relaxing. Or at least somewhat close, until someone pulled you around.

They were your only friend here, so of course you had to follow. After a few hours walking around you found you both in front of a hotel, one called the ‘Hazbin hotel.’ Excitedly knocking at the door while you watched.

Within seconds the door swung open revealing an excited blonde.

“Oh my, hi!” Pulling you both in as she spoke, which allowed you to see other people hanging around. “I’m Charlie, and welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

“Told ya you’d like it here.”

You were both aware nothing was said beforehand but you didn’t confront them. Seemed like the others knew something was up, so they had Charlie pull you away.

“Since you're new, how about a private tour of the Hazbin Hotel?”

𝕍𝕒𝕘𝕘𝕚𝕖:

Compared to the other hotel residents your quietness is a surprise, but a welcome one at that.

If you ask or signal at all to her she’ll be at your side to subtly help you with social cues and anything else needed.

Especially if you’re new (Also if not) she’ll help you get masculine clothing, although she might have to get others help as she isn’t the most masculine either.

***

Charlie had just brought you to the hotel in a… not so good condition. She wasn’t sure what you went through to look like that but she knew you needed some help, and she was going to help where she could.

“Alastor, I need your help”

“Hmm?”

“You know the newbie, I have to get him some clothes. Problem is I have no clue where to go.” At her words his smile increases slightly.

“I could help, for a price…”

“Nevermind.”

While she wanted to help she wouldn’t risk anything with Alastor, maybe Angel would be better.

𝔸𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝 𝔻𝕦𝕤𝕥:

He’s seen some shit during his time down in hell, so your actions and attitude isn’t seen as weird to him.

To a degree he’ll take advantage of you. Never anything you wouldn’t want, but to keep him safe from Vaggie or Alastor.

But only he can do it, if anyone else even tries he’ll be there to protect you.

***

“Vaggie, why would I do that?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe you–”

“Doesn’t matter, I would never when Y/N is with me!”

At his words Vaggie looked down at you, finding you wrapped in Angels pairs of arms. You had a few blooming bruises around your face but otherwise seemed alright.

“Just… Don’t do it again, I don’t want to see Y/N or Charlie get mad at you.”

“Really, Y/N mad at me? Never!” One pair of hands had come up to cup your cheeks, able to leave multiple kisses. Causing Vaggie to leave quickly.

“Now, let me take care of those bruises.”

𝕊𝕚𝕣 ℙ𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤:

He’s been thrown into the same boat as you, has absolutely no understanding of social cues.

If anything the eggs make it worse, as they are somehow worse than sir pentious.

He has accidentally hurt the both of you at once somehow, no one is sure how that happened.

***

The streets didn’t seem too busy, which was weird for hell. But it might’ve been the fact you and Sir Pentious just weren’t aware of them walking. His tail was swaying dangerously behind him, knocking over any people.

During this his eggs were scattered around the both of you. Some stayed behind, in between and some strayed next to you. Which caused an even bigger barrier to form, now people had to step off the path.

ℍ𝕦𝕤𝕜:

When he first meets you he won’t really care, he’s had worst people hang around.

If he’s being honest he understands and gets social cues, but majority of the time he just doesn’t care about them.

Even then he knows with your lack of awareness you’re likely to get into some unwanted trouble, so he hangs around a lot more.

***

Husk never had the heart to blame you for any trouble, he knew you never meant it. So tonight he accompanied you to a nearby bar, intending for at least a semi-nice night out. But of course someone had to ruin it.

A drunk demon decided he wanted to bother you for the night, ignoring Husk the whole time. But over time his anger rose, you weren’t even looking at him and you didn’t seem interested.

In which you weren’t, but he seemed so incessant that you spoke, even if you didn’t. His attitude quickly became clear very quickly, except you didn’t notice. As he reached for you Husk was quicker, sending a card flying into his head.

That caused everyone to start their own fights. Which gave you two the chance to leave, with minimal injuries of course. Taking the chance you both ran out, luckily no one else was waiting outside.

“We’re going back.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie x reader #hazbin hotel vaggie #vaggie x reader #hazbin hotel angel dust #angle dust x reader #hazbin hotel sir pentious #sir pentious x reader #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #wisteria♥

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fleurrreads · 3 months

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hi hi hi! could you write something for charles leclerc x single!mom!reader? maybe her son ( or daughter or both ) both him for the first time and they're all protective over their mom, and she has to leave them alone for sometime and when she finds them they're bonding? this probably does not make sense but oh well have something to eat and some water if you haven't in the last hour! and can i be 🎧 anon, if it isn't taken already? my pronouns are she/her and i'm 18!

an: i had a lot of fun writing this one, and i think it has a special place in my heart forever ♡ i’ll add you to the list! welcome lovely 💫

You’ve been seeing Charles for about four months now. In that time you haven’t introduced him to your son — Cody, who is seven. You were worried about him meeting your boyfriends and them leaving, which would mean they also leave him behind. So none of your boyfriends have ever met Cody.

Charles knows about Cody though, and vice versa. You’re currently dressing up to go out on a date with Charles as Cody sits on your bed, little feet dangling from the side. “You look so pretty mommy. Are you going on a date today?” The little boy rubs his eyes, visibly exhausted from the day. He has a lot of energy during the day and then he winds down and passes out by nine. He’s a lot like you in that sense.

You sit down on your bed next to him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Thank you baby. Yes I’m going on a date with Charles today. He’ll be here soon to pick me up.” You see the gears turning in his little head, and he meets your eyes. “Do you trust him?” He asks, fiddling with the hem of your dress. A nervous tick he got from you no doubt.

“Yes angel, I trust him more than anyone. Do you want to meet him and see for yourself?” The only way Cody will be less worried about you is if he met Charles and saw for himself that he was a good guy. He nods, gathering himself up and running to the living room where Scooby Doo is playing on the tv, the babysitter that you got for tonight was still on the way so you wouldn’t be able to leave before she arrived.

You hear the distinctive sound of Charles’ car coming to a stop in-front of your house when you see Cody’s head shoot up, looking through the curtain at the car that stopped in front. “Woah” You hear him softly whisper to nobody in particular. You smile , making your way towards the front door to let Charles inside.

Charles looks absolutely incredible, not too fancy and not too casual. He kisses you on the cheek, aware of the little boy now sitting on the couch looking warily at him. “Hello my love, are you nearly ready to go?” He looks at Cody, smiling at him. “Hello Cody. It’s nice to officially meet you.” he shakes the little boy’s hand.

Cody smiles softly, “It’s nice to meet you, uncle Charles.” Your heart warms at the smile on Charles’ face. You walk to the bedroom. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, I just need to finish getting ready.” You sit down at your vanity, trying to finish your makeup as fast as you can to not leave Cody with Charles too long. You know Cody isn’t always comfortable at first with people, and you don’t want him to feel like that with Charles.

In the living room Charles hunches down to Cody’s level. “What’s wrong Cody? Did I do something wrong?” He wants to make a good impression on him, because he sees you and him being together for a long time. Cody looks at him with big eyes. “Do you really like my mommy?”

Charles’ heart aches as he looks at Cody. He’s trying to protect your feelings before you can get hurt. He’s probably seen you come back from other dates either absolutely exhausted or crying.Charles realises that Cody just doesn’t want you to go through that again.

Tears are now prominent on the little boy’s waterline as Charles gives his arm a reassuring squeeze. “I love your mom. She’s an incredible woman and I’d like to spend a long time making her happy. She means a lot to me, you know. And I’d like to make you happy too. I was thinking that we could go on a drive tomorrow if you’d like. We can go get ice cream and stop by any shop you want.” Charles notices the hint of excitement in Cody’s eyes. He also sees the relief in the little boy’s face, hearing Charles speak so lovingly about his mom.

Cody grins at him, “I’d love to! Your car is really cool. Does it go really fast?” Question after question falls from the little boy’s mouth, his excitement not contained anymore. Charles chuckles, sitting down on the couch next to Cody, answering every question he’s got.

You finally emerge out of the bedroom, hair done nicely, makeup finished as you make your way to the living room where you find no Charles and no Cody. How odd. As you begin searching you hear giggles coming from the kitchen and your heart swells at the image you see as you peek around the corner.

Cody’s sitting on the counter, a pancake in his mouth, laughing at Charles who’s attempting to flip the pan expertly as to flip the pancake around. He failed miserably as the pancake misses the pan and splats on the floor. Cody laughs loudly. “You’re so silly Charlie.”

A nickname. Cody gave Charles a nickname. You feel your heart ache as you smile at them. Charles has a faint flush to his cheeks when he spots you in the hallway, a smile on your face. “What’s going on in here? Are you burning my house down, Cha?” Cody turns his head to you, still happily snacking on a pancake that didn’t fall to the floor. “We’re making pancakes! Do you want one mommy?” Cody offers you a plate with a smiley-faced pancake and you can’t help but laugh. “Sure, thank you baby.” You sit down at the counter, enjoying the moment with them.

Charles made you call the babysitter to cancel. “Why would we go anywhere else when this is where I could only dream to be.” He took your hand as you’re now sitting on the couch. Cody sitting on his other side, you see Charles holding his hand as well. Your heart swells at the image, and you realise that this was what you’d dreamed of as a little girl. A perfect family.

“We can go on a date another day this week. This moment is more important.” Charles whispers, giving you a small kiss and continuing to watch the cartoons on tv.

You realise that this is how you’d be able to spend forever. With them. With Charles.

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ★

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x single!mom!reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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moonsaver · 16 days

Text

Imagine instead of 4ggravate being a kpop boy group and reader being the fangirl, its the other way around

4ggravate forms a groupchat particularly because of you, their bias, who is also the least recognized in your group and is often overshadowed by others, leading to a desperate convergence of your fans in finding out the itty bitty stuff about you that's all on blast when it comes to the other idols in your group. They're like detectives trying to figure out whether you liked the specific flavor of ice cream on a show you participated in with your group. Each of them keep tabs on any official updates about you, recording and clipping parts of your group's lives in the tidbits where you come in, and forming a wall trying to defend you from majority of the fandom when you get backlash from false rumors. That's just how the group came to be.

Kaveh is the oldest fan amongst them – he's been there since day 1. Claims he knows the most out of all of them and tries to prove it via quizzes and guessing games. Sometimes he wins, most times he doesn't. Also the poorest of the four. He spent so much on buying your specific merchandise he didn't plan for the future concert you group was holding in his area, and ever since then he's had to tearfully decide constantly between buying albums, your photocards, new lightstick versions, etc.. and your concert that may or may not even be held in the area.

In the rare chance that he does attend your concert – he tries to get the most out of it. Front row, headbands, fanchant at the top of his head, lightsticks in both hands. When you notice him and exchange a few words over the loud crowd, he swears he's going to pass out, looking up at your crouched figure on the stage makes you look almost like an angel to him, the light highlighting your figure perfectly. Suffice to say, he eventually made an impression on you at least.. because he passed out and the crowd had to surf him to a security guard. He's deeply embarassed about it, and can't really escape it now that he's become a bit of an inside joke in your fandom

Cyno is the second older fan. Like Kaveh, he prides himself over having a good amount of knowledge about you that's not exactly easy to find – old, old, old images of other kpop idols in which you appear for a fraction of a second, spotting the products you use in your lives and being able to find out the brands is his specialty. If Kaveh has the knowledge, Cyno at least has the detective skills. He has his own individually run fanpage where most other fanpages, even your group's fanpages, refer to as a trusted source. Has also managed to create several fancams of you that were incredibly hard to get ahold of. He's those fanpages on twitter who thoroughly collect evidence and manage to pinpoint future events you're going to take part in before they're announced, and he manages to predict it correctly almost all the time. He's well known within the fandom, but due to how busy he is in 4ggravate trying to form a cumulative plan almost all the time, rarely does he find the time to respond to other fans and fanpages, and most other admins don't usually approach him either.

If anything, at least he's got more resources and money than Kaveh. I imagine he actually also is in a lot of other groups besides 4ggravate.

Alhaitham, out of everyone, is the one who's actually talked to you the most. He was originally just interested in the music, didn't really care until he realized how less and less your lines became the more songs your group churned out. So in his mind, to "make up for" the lack of lines on your end, he decides to simply just pay extra attention to your solo activities. It's not soon before you become his bias. Unlike Kaveh, he was pretty strategic and managed to plan ahead for scheduled fancalls, fanmeetings, appearances in public, etc..

he leaves a lasting impression because.. he doesn't show his appearance. At all. There's many fans out there who get your attention by doing strange things with their appearance, but Alhaitham refuses to even take off his mask just to talk to you. In fancalls, he decides to cover the cameras, always wears hoodies that cover him completely when he meets you in public. At some point, the fandom falls in love with him instead (which drives Kaveh insane), and it's not soon before there's all sorts of rumors about you two. The rumors get more wild when he only ever takes his hoodie off once when you meet him face to face. Personality wise, he sticks out because of how easily he's able to spot changes in choreography, voice, pitch, writing style, etc.. and even more so, because of how upfront about it he is, without actually being creepy about it. He gives good advice without making it sound like unwelcome criticism.

Tighnari is actually the normal one. He just generally likes the music and likes your voice specifically because he thinks your voice suits the concept the best, but because of a few injustices (which he sarcastically comments on many fancams, to which also many fans agree), he finds himself doing something similar to Alhaitham. Albeit, less.. detailed? Is what he thinks. He's actually a bit of a keyboard warrior when it comes down to it – replying to group threads that intentionally leave you out, having the sassiest comebacks to mean or rude comments about you, piecing together timelines and locations to prove false rumors wrong, working especially close with Cyno in these kinds of cases. If there's a fancam of you, Tighnari is under it fighting some or the other hater, or just blatantly commenting on the event itself that intentionally disrespects you or your group.

He's probably the only one who actually leaves a long lasting impression on you. When your car drives by a bunch of your excited fans, he's the normal one who's looking on calmly and waving to you with a stoic face. Whenever he comes to fanmeetings with Alhaitham, or has fancalls with you – it's fun! His humor is easy to accustom to, conversation goes lightly, and overall he's the tamest out of everyone. He gives you some skincare advice which you gladly accept, and somehow, despite not being as incriminating as the others when it came to detail, they're salty about how he seems to be the one who's closest to you. It's not unnoticeable the way out of all four of them, you recognize him by a first name basis. Ohhh boy.

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 6 months

Note

I liked your gally headcannon <3

could i request some headcannons for a reader he meets after the glade like they work for Lawrence and stuff? Thank uu

meeting gally in the last city would include

masterlist

ahhh thank you so much! ofc, i love making relationship headcanons <3 reader is a little softie. i'm sorry!! i love writing soft readers too much. suggestive themes.

before relationship

you two first met in an altercation with lawrence's men upon entering the last city's outskirts. he had suggested taking you back to lawrence to join his cause.

it took a while for him to talk to you. he didn't want to leave a bad impression, especially given his track record.

plus, he thought you were really pretty which to him, was intimidating.

he was surprised by how kindly you treated him and how warm the smiles you gave were. such pure-heartedness was a rarity in this world.

you started spending a lot of time together. he would train you in combat; you'd take watch together, and even sometimes talk on the roof at night.

people would definitely notice the connection.

the other men would blatantly tease him about liking you in front of you.

his attraction to you would reach its peak whenever you used a gun. something about a gun and girl really got him going.

there would be moments where you two flirted and then became all flustered when you realised what you were doing.

he would start distancing himself.

he'd never feel worthy of having you in his life. his past would always haunt him.

one night, he caved and told you everything he had done.

you kissed him for the first time and told him he was the strongest person you had ever met.

that was when he knew he had fallen in love with you.

during relationship

pet names would include baby, angel, beautiful, and short-stuff.

his sense of humour used to be self-deprecating, but your constant reassurance and loving words changed that.

now he'd do anything, say anything, to make you laugh or smile. he loved your smile. your laugh even more so.

he would be extremely protective over you. your gentle nature would make you more vulnerable, something he felt he needed to protect.

especially during missions and supply runs.

"don't leave my side, alright?"

"please be careful."

"i don't want you in any danger. i cant lose you too."

you'd always protect each other in combat, even though he's like, way taller than you.

sometimes he needed a little protection though, given the fact that he only had one good lung which affected his fighting capabilities.

sometimes you would sit on his lap during car rides with his arms wrapped around you as your seatbelt.

he wouldn't care about anyone watching. he liked having everyone know you chose him of all people.

he'd tease you about your height all the time. expect a joke at least once a day.

would love hugging you from behind, just enveloping your body with his.

kisses would be so tender. he'd bend down and cup your jaw so delicately while pulling you in by the waist.

forehead kisses, temple kisses, basically just kisses all around. not much in public though, that was something he liked keeping private.

when the relationship progressed, he'd still hold out on you. but gentle wasn't all that you were.

"touch me, gally".

and he would. he would brush his fingers along your jaw, up and down your arms, and hold the side of your neck as he kissed you.

"no," you'd whispered. "gally... be rough with me"

at first, he would be hesitant. but once he saw your insistence, he'd pick you up and plant you on a table, allowing his old rougher self to take over as he kissed you, touched you, and well...

that would be how you first sleep together.

he could lift you up like you weigh absolutely nothing. you're basically like a rag-doll to him. in an innocent way. most of the time ;)

his hands are so big that they completely cover the sides of your head.

you would wear his hoodies and sweatshirts to bed. he'd love how big they were on you.

people would hold parties in the ruins of old buildings. there'd be music, bonfires, and alcohol.

gally wouldn't be able to help himself. you'd just look so beautiful in the firelight, he'd bring you somewhere secluded and take you against a wall.

these were the only times he was harsh with you and you loved it—the contrast between having someone who was lovingly gentle and sinfully rough was exhilarating.

when thomas and the others came to the last city, they were genuinely shocked by how he managed to score you.

thomas especially.

"you know about the things he's done, right?"

you instantly come to his defence.

"i know. i also know that people can change. he's not the same person you knew. he's brave and strong and the most caring man i've ever met."

gally's a bit of a snoop, so of course he 'accidentally' eavesdropped on your conversation.

"did you really mean all that? what you said to thomas."

"of course i did. i love you, you big idiot."

"i love you too... little idiot."

damn this was kinda long. my bad.