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jyoongim · 11 months ago

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SUBMISSIVE ALASTOR + OVERSTIMULATION + HIM WITH A DEER TAIL AND SENSITIVE DEER EARS (HES WHINING, BEGGING, PANTING ETC.) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

I’m not use to darling being the slight dominant so i tried my best!

Themes: soft!dom reader, alastor, tentacle play, pet names, anal, overstimulation, begging, edging, orgasm denial, whining, fluff, cutesy,

You always admired how Alastor took care of everything in the hotel. He was very meticulous about how he wanted things. Even when things were chaotic, he always seemed to have it together.

And that went with the hotel and you.

He loved to spoil you.

You never had to lift a single finger to do anything with Alastor around.

It was sweet; enduring that he loved to take care of you without even a falter in his demeanor.

But you being his sweet little darling, couldnt just let your dear deer man do everything.

Alastor. The lanky, red demon with the title Radio Demon, who was always in complete and total control, believe it or not; had a nasty habit of being stressed.

And you were determined to help relieve him of that stress.

You were going through your to-do list of things that needed to be done around the hotel. You had nearly completed everything, when you caught sight of Alastor walking through the lobby.

Your face immediately light up into a smile and you were about to greet him when you noticed something odd.

Most people couldnt read Alastor, but you had been with him long enough to know when something was bothering him.

His ever present smile was tense. Fluffy ears furrowed against his skull and tail flickering.

”Alastor?” You called out and immediately his smile softened.

”OOooh Mon Cher! How are you this hellish afternoon?” He asked as he squeezed you in a hug.

you ignored his questioned and stared at him, pout on your lips

”something’s botherin’ you beau” his eye twitched.

”nothin’ to worry your pretty little head dearest, now if you’ll excuse me i am off for an outing. I will be back for dinner” he said giving your cheek a peck before scrolling out the lobby.

You spent the rest of the day helping Charlie and making sure the hotel was running jus fine. Quite a bit of time had passed and Alastor was due to come back soon.

you had cooked dinner for everyone and once everyone ate and went to bed, you started to prepare something special for Alastor.

You had just finished setting everything up when you hear the sound of Alastor’s hooves making their way to his bedroom.

Upon opening the door, his red eyes widened, smile softer and small

”darling what’s all this?” The sound of ‘Ohs and Ahs’ from a track played as he approached and looked around.

The room was dimmly light by the many candles you had. There was the soft humming of whatever creature was in his forest and the fireflies danced as he took in the lovely meal you had prepared.

You smiled and took his hand, guiding him to the table

”well i thought that for a change that I do something for you. Call it a show of my appreciation.” You said into his ear, causing it to flick.

Alastor hummed and took in the meal.

You had roasted venison (he would have eaten it raw-) and with some greens and some wine. Simple (but you weren’t much of a cooker anyway) but he appreciated it none the less.

As the both of you ate, you listened to him talk about his day and told him about the crazy plans Charlie had come up with.

Alastor wiped his lips and gave you a smile. “Why darling dinner was marlevous, you don’t have dessert planned too do you” he asked chuckling.

This was the moment you had been waiting for.

“Actually i was thinking of something much sweeter” you said as you rounded behind him, hands slowly massaging his shoulders.

he melted at your touch and let out a soft purr.

”mmmm and what would that be?”

To HIS surprise, a collar appeared around his neck and you tugged him towards the bed.

You pushed him flat against the bed and straddled his waist. You felt his hands grab at your waist and you slapped his hands away, shaking your head

”no no this is about me taking care of you for once so just relax baby”

he tilted his head and let you have control for once.

Even though Alastor didn’t have a high sex drive, he didn’t mind indulging you in your lustful bouts.

You teased your hands through his red tresses and scratched at his undercut.

His skin had goosebumps and you leaned down to kissed his nose.

Oh he was so cute.

your hands scratched to the top of his head and you pouted as he moved his ears away from your seeking hands.

you finally lightly grazed them as they were pinned (such a angi boi) against his and caressed them between your fingers.

you couldn’t resist and tugged on his ears.

Alastor groaned and pressed his hips up into yours in response to you diddling with his ears.

“Ooh easy darling” he cooed at you.

you ignored him and tied the chain attached to his neck around the headboard. Satisfied that he wont break free (he still can) you slide down and nuzzled into the tent that was raging in his dress pants.

You softly stroked the bulge and unzipped his pants.

Alastor might be all limps and tall, but he had a monster in his pants

(Who would have guessed???)

Shimmying out of the bothersome garments, Alastor growled as you peppered his cock with kisses.

You hummed as you dragged your tongue against the underside of his cock and as you hear his breathing pick up.

You relax your jaw as you take him into your throat.

‘Ooooh that’s so good’ he hissed

you were happy that he was enjoying himself but you really wanted to him

fucked out.

with a pop you released him from your mouth and ran your hands up and down his thighs

”i wanna try something that I think youll enjoy”

his ears perked and honed in on your voice.

”Alastor…on your knees” you purred and much to your surprise…he did so without as much of a complaint.

you tried to suppress a giggle as he wiggled his tail at you.

You caressed his balls and stroked his dick as you nipped at his behind.

Your tongue probed at his asshole and Alastor growled at you in warning.

Oh that wont do.

You manifested a strap-on around your waist and tapped it against his hole.

Ears pulled back immediately.

through you were much shorter than Alastor, you were going to give him a bit of his own medicine.

you exterted your own tentacles and restrained the red demon as you put your knees into his and pulled him to you.

Sharp claws tore into the pillows and Alastor hissed, head whipping around

”You dare?”

you gave him a smile and thrusted forward, causing him to let out a soft moan.

Your tentacles were a real help since you were of shorter statue.

One had his head mushed into the mattress

One was wrapped around his dick; squeezing and stroking him, precum leaking.

You could practically see Alastor melt. His shoulders relaxed, head lobbed to the side, and back arched.

If anyone else saw the Radio Demon like this, they would be dead.

”Ooooh darling sweet hell” he brawled.

You sped up your pace and locked his arms behind his back as you dragged him back into your thrusts.

Never in your afterlife did you think you would be the one to have Alastor so

wanton

Hells it felt good to have this power.

You felt his dick twitch with each stroke of your tenacle

you cooed at him “Do my beau wanna cum?”

his ear flickered.

you pushed just a little harder

”will you beg me beau?”a shudder ran through him as well his dick swelled.

Alastor was prideful by nature and you couldn’t think of a time where he was the one begging.

But any man would do anything to have his dick milked dry.

“Please” he mumbled.

you gave a harsh thrust “what was that? I didn’t quite hear you”

he pushed his hips against you and you loosened the collar and pulled him back.

He bared his teeth at you; the sound of broken record sounding.

“Please…please make me cum” You started to pound into his ass and the tentacle around his cock twisted and stroked until you felt the telltale of his dick growing.

”my sweet beau” he snarled as his body seized forward as he spilled his seed onto the sheets.

you had flipped him over onto his back and kissed his lips, “I’m not done”

Your hand wrapped around his cock and stroked it causing him to whine.

You ran your fingers through his hair as you squeezed his sensitive cock.

Alastor’s face was scrunched and you cooed “c’mon baby i know you can give me one more”

you threw a leg over his waist and lined his cock up with your cunt.

sinking down you sighed as he bucked up into you.

using what power you had you held his wrists down and slammed yourself onto him

”Fucking hell!” He gasped as you rode him like there was no tomorrow.

your warm walls sucked him in so well.

you brought your lips to his neck and latched on as you felt his dick twitch

“M-Mon Cher please i-”

you whined into his neck “you gonna cum again? My pretty boy wanna cum?”

he hissed and clenched his teeth

you abandoned riding for some light grinding and just before he could try and thrust up into you to paint your walls you lifted off him

Alastor growled “Aaah Fuck you!” As his orgasm whined.

you giggled “patience dear”

his red eyes narrowed at you but quickly closed as your mouth found his throbbing member.

you sunk down, taking him into your throat

”darling please! Please please j-just let me cum”

you felt you had tormented your demon long enough and licked up his shaft before kissing the head.

you felt your jaw extend as your tongue extended and wrapped around him.

sinking him back into your throat, you bbbed your head as your tongue squeezed and stroked him.

Alastor was a whining mess.

panting his tried to thrust up, but whatever power you had held him in place.

”s'il te plaît, mon amour, laisse-moi recouvrir cette jolie gorge s'il te plaît. traite-moi à sec. s'il te plaît, laisse-moi jouir”

please love let me coat that pretty throat please. milk me dry. please let me cum

Well if he asked so nicely…

you quickened your pace and squeezed at his ball.

Alastor mewled and your throat was flooded with warm cum.

you swallowed all you could and waited til his dick softened to pop him out your mouth. You licked up what spilled past your lips and peppered his thighs with kisses.

he was panting out of breath as he sleepily looked at you.

you purred as you placed a soft kiss to his lips.

”you did so good”

he sighed as you cuddled him and you could hear the soft hum of white noise

”what was that for dear?”

you smiled, scratching his undercut

”someone needs to take care of you too Mr.Radio”

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim

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brailsthesmolgurl · 7 months ago

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LOSING YOU HURTS

Preview: What have the boys done that got you to go MIA? What lengths would they go to get you back?

Warnings: ANGST, teeth-rotting fluff at ending.

P.S: This is a request from one of you lovely readers. I hope what I had written shall suffice your love for angst and fluff. Rafayel's take is always and always will be and shall be the dramatic route imo, Zayne's just radiating care-bear energy in forever, Xavier? I decided to do him a little dirty and make him a salty boi :3

RAFAYEL - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜

The young artist came home to the smell of alcohol reeked across his living room. The mellow balsamic, saccharine scent created a trail for Rafayel to tail towards his room. The wide span of hallways suddenly seemed so narrow due to the lack of lighting. However, the moonlight provided just enough of a shine to prevent Rafayel from kissing the walls as he led himself towards his bedroom. The scent became more pungent as he got closer to the door and he was wondering if someone had managed to break into his mansion just for a couple of bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon or Merlot. Opening the door with a slight creak, he popped his head into the ajar door to take a peek of the thief. Only to find you, sprawled out on his bed. He could not see your face as your legs faced him but he could see the slight rise and fall of your chest. You are asleep.

Relieved, he walked over to your sleeping figure, studying the situation. A bottle of Merlot emptied out on the nightstand while another half bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon stood still on the floor, next to a wine glass. Someone is clearly in the mood to drink for the night and does not even bother to wait for him. But he did wondered why would you down one and a half bottle of red wine when you have a barely existent alcohol tolerance. Rafayel took a seat next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear and he smiled to himself.

He leaned down to press a gentle kiss onto your cheek, feeling the warmth of your face from your drunkenness. “Mmm…” You hummed out at the slight pressure on your cheek. “Is that you Rafayel?” Your hushed whispers made him pressed another kiss to your cheek again, and another to your jawline.

“Yes, it’s me my love.�� Rafayel pressed yet another kiss to your lips, slightly excited at you waking up. Seeing your eyelids opening to reveal your gaze, he leaned back, holding himself up by his palm, taking in your sleepy state. “You want to tell me why you chose to drink all of these yourself instead of waiting for me to come home and toast with you?”

His question only dissolved from words into gibberish as you were too drunk to handle such a heavy topic for the night. “I’m tired.” With a couple more slow blinks, the room disappeared and you travelled back to your dreamland.

The next day came about with you waking up to an empty bed. You slowly sat up, eyes shutting closed when your head cracked a whir and the world started to spin out of control. “Good morning.” A familiar voice tuned in and you opened your eyes just enough to catch sight of your boyfriend walking in casually, a silver tray well balanced on one of his palms. “My beauty is awake.” Smell of pancakes and something spicy filled the air and your tastebuds started salivating. Nothing like a good hungover meal to get things kickstarted for the day. For the talk the both of you are going to have. “I made some breakfast for you. Based on the amount you had drank, you are to be called a drunkard from now on.” He leaned down close enough, nose tip caressed against your cheek. “You’re most welcomed for my care.”

“We have to talk.” You had sat yourself up, hand rubbing your forehead a couple of times when you tried to calm your throbbing pain in your skull and the itch in the back of your throat, begging you to stop what you are about to say. “I want to break up.”

“Awe, is my beauty still—” Rafayel reached his hand out to touch your cheek, a cheesy smile still hung on his handsome features. He had just woken up, shirt messily buttoned, hair tousled and spiking in different directions and face still slightly oily from the sleep he had enjoyed next to you in bed. Nevertheless, his beauty remains inexorable.

You turned your head to the side, leaving his hand hanging mid air with the phantom touch of your warm cheek, and his smile faded when he denoted that you were being serious. “I want to break up.” Your lack of tone and facial expressions led Rafayel to return to his original posture.

“Why?” Rafayels’ eyes narrowed and he knitted his eyebrows together. He was frustrated. Not telling him the reason and just wanting to break up gave the young man a good enough idea that he is no longer wanted in your space. He could have begged, asked, nagged you to stay but he chooses to respect your boundary. “Why would you want to break up suddenly?”

"Have you not seen the news Rafayel?" You grabbed your phone off of the nightststand and unlocked it, revealing a news titled 'NEW MUSE OR NEW COHORT? RAFAYEL FOUND SHARING LIPS WITH THE MYSTERY WOMAN'.

He looked genuinely shocked, grabbing your phone to continue scanning through the article. Hazy from your hangover, you cannot tell if he was being upset or he was actually shocked that he got caught. "Love, that is a mistake. I did not know she—"

"I'm done." You interrupted, snatching your phone out of his palms and pushing yourself off of the bed. Rafayel mimicked you, getting up off of the bed and holding onto you to prevent you from falling and to stop you from leaving. "I should have known earlier given how you had not been coming home recently. All of the promises that you made, it's all just a lie."

"No, it's not a lie y/n. I did not manage to come home because I was busy curating my artworks for the upcoming exhibition. The kiss with Aiki, it was nothing. We were both drunk and—" He started rambling, eyes darting everywhere except meeting yours and face turning red. The lack of detail present within his explanation only pushed your buttons further.

"It's the fact you kissed her and you did not tell me anything the next day, or the day after, or today! That's what made me disappointed in you Rafayel!" You raised your voice, unable to calm yourself anymore. You recalled the night you caught on to the news. Crying became your last resort and you figured by chugging down alcohol you could pity yourself less, seeing the picture of the mystery woman he calls 'Aiki' being so much more alluring than you.

Possessing long blond hair with big wavy curls, tall stature with right amount of curves on her figure. Any man would dream of a model-like woman like her laying in their bed. Not to mention, she possesses the same interest for art, seemingly the only daughter to a family tree of artists. There is no doubt on why she would be hired by Rafayel and why they would end up having an affair.

You squared up against him, pushing him by his shoulders and he stumbled backwards. "I hate you." Your last sentence jabbed him more than anything, maybe it was the tears that ran down your face like streams, maybe the way you bit your lip after you had finished your sentence realising that you had said the ultimatum, or maybe it was your tone of defeat that made him feel utterly useless.

"I'm sorry y/n." Rafayel held onto your wrist, with just enough amount to beg you to stay and not to force you. "It was a mistake of mine, I should have told you about it. I was scared you were going to leave me."

"But apparently not saying it does not change the ending either." You removed your wrist out of his grip and you walked past him and out of the premises of his abode. Your tears streaked your cheeks immediately when the heavy doors closed behind you. Your feet felt heavy with every step you take, secretly hoping for Rafayel to be dashing out of his house, shouting and begging relentlessly for you to not leave him. Despite with that expectation, it remained eidetic to your imagination and you dragged yourself as far as you could. Away from his mansion, away from his island, but primely, away from Rafayel.

Days followed by weeks and then months. That was how long you had disassociated yourself with the purple haired lad. The memories of him are dissolving just like the news of his has dissipated. The last you had seen his name on the news headline was when he chose to cancel his exhibition. The same exhibition that he spent a lot of time trying to curate his artworks and the same exhibition that got him to commit a mistake with Aiki that costed him his relationship. Although the reason behind his cancellation was unknown to the paparazzi, you knew full well that his 'I am moody hence I do not feel like going through with this exhibition' kinda excuse is pure bullshit. But of course, you did not want to jump to conclusions. More like, you are in no position to possess such an assumptive nature towards his acts anymore.

Here you currently sat, on your kitchen table, with a cup of tea in hand and eyes fixated on the hologram showcased in your living room. The holographic news reporter casually stood at the corner of your living room, reading from his cue cards and occasionally pointing towards the graphics that appeared on his left on demand, providing you details on what is going on in the outside world. You were thinking of going out for a shopping spree today as you had been holed up in your home for the longest time ever. Mostly due to paperwork, partially may contribute to the post breakup blues.

The doorbell rang and you swiftly got up, tearing your eyes off of the man in a suit in your living room and you walked yourself towards the door. You clicked the lock open and pulled your door towards you to open it. Rafayel towered in front of you, still looking as dashing as how you always expected of him. His left eyebrow raised, presumably surprised at you opening the door for him. The tension amongst the both of you started arising, one mostly out of anxiety while the other mostly out of frustration.

"What do you want?" You quipped, crossing your arms over your chest as you eyed the young man in front of you. Rafayel clad a suit that puts the reporter's neatly pressed outfit to shame, with the usual combo of black and white, added on with a red tie, there is really not a lot of work required for him to look good. Yet, you could not bring yourself to admire his outfit now.

"I came to apologise." His tone was lighthearted, pressed to crack a joke amidst this tension. You however, caught a whiff of a scent that you do not often smell on him. It smells tangy, fruity even. "I know you do not want me here, but I will not stop like how I had not stopped contacting you for the past months. It took Thomas three months to locate where you are staying and I just had to risk coming here." He pressed one of his palms to his forehead and closed his eyes, body swaying slightly as if there was a gust of wind that blew him. "Can I at least come in? My head is buzzing."

You stood aside to give way to him. His lanky stature nearly manage to fit through your standard door frame and you manage to sneak a whiff off of his cologne of the night. He reeked of alcohol. "Are you drunk Rafayel?"

The man stumbled forward and you lurched towards him, arms secured around his waist to hold him up, not wanting him to kiss the floor just yet and you slowly guided him towards the sofa. Moans and groans and hushed mutters kept tumbling out of his mouth, but you barely focused in on his monologues. The way his rubicund cheeks presented itself, accompanied with his groans; he must not be in a good mood. Although the both of your paths had came to an end, you could not just let him falter to the ground. "Here, lay down." You low-key flopped him onto the couch and hurried off into the kitchen to fetch some water.

It has been a while of silence, with the window opened for maximum ventilation and the curtains that pranced along with the rhythm of the winds. You twisted the handkerchief in your hand, squeezing the water out of the cloth and laying it onto Rafayel's head, repeating the same motion for the next few handkerchiefs that you would use to cover his neck and his chest. He was rather persistent in not wanting you to undress him as the moment is not right and he does not want to be taken advantage of. But again, it seems like you are the one that was getting taken advantage by your ex-boyfriend even after the breakup.

You managed to make him comply by comforting him and telling him that you only want to cool down his body temperature. The permission to remove his blazer was granted with a nod and you unbuttoned three buttons on his button-up shirt, unfoldingthe cotton piece and slowly placing it onto his smooth yet hard chest. Rafayel hissed in response, hands enveloping yours immediately and your cheeks burnt at the touch. "I'm sorry y/n." You looked up to see the man is already looking at you, lids heavy and lips slightly puckered, guilt written all over his features. "I didn't mean to cheat on you at all."

"You should rest." Your dismissive attitude got Rafayel to wrap his arms around your waist in one-go and he pulled you onto him, so you are laying right on top of him. You were frantic, wanting to get out of his arms as soon as possible but his hold was solid. "Rafayel, please. We had gotten over this." "I had never loved anyone like you y/n." His soft voice a total opposite of his iron grip. "Hell, when I kissed her that time when I was drunk, all I could think about was you. I'm sorry I did not tell you about my mistake earlier. I am sorry I let you walked out. I should have tried harder, I should not have gotten drunk that night..." The warm light that hit his face outlined the tears that brimmed around his eyes. He trailed off, words swallowed by the silence. "I'm very sorry my love."

You could not deny it. Seeing him being drunk, standing at the front of your unit that he had searched for relentlessly ever since the parting, apologising being the only thing he could manage to put into a conversation for tonight and the amount of guilt that surrounds him as thick as the smell of alcohol on his body. You could not deny that he melted your heart. "Rafayel, it's okay." You succumbed to your own regret too, revealing the sensations you had felt for the past few months. "I should not have acted so recklessly. I should have listened to you and not let my insecurity consume me. I am sorry too."

"Don't be sorry my love." His finger snaked over to the bottom of your chin and he lifted it up. Your lips only a few inches away from him. "I will always love you, and if you ever plan to leave me again, I will chase you to the ends of the earth even if I have to." Watching him closely, you realised the redness on his cheeks are gone, and the glint of teasing in his nebula-like orbs is back.

Scrunching your face in observation, you asked. "Are you faking yourself to be drunk?" He whined like a toddler and 'fainted' back into his laying position, making you raise your eyebrows in return at his usual mockeries. "Do you even mean anything you said earlier?"

He snapped his head back to you, eyes widened and he pushed himself up with one arm, jaw slackening. "The audacity to assume that I came here just for a show." He pressed a hand to his chest and looked down, the redness creeping onto his ears. "Everything I had said is sincere, I wanted to apologise and wanted to show you just how much you actually matter to me. Because, y/n, losing you really pains me. It affects me greater than what you may think." You did not reply to his laments, but instead just watched this man in front of you conveyed a soliloquy that is so wrapped in sincerity and love for you that it really made you reconsider the word 'break up'.

A snap of a finger made you jolted awake and you realised how stupid you could have looked, with a wide grin stapled onto your face as you admired your suitor in front of you. Rafayel however, has a pout on his lips and he crossed his arms, unsatisfied with the lack of succor he received from his all-time lover. "You are lucky I love you, or else I am suing you for making me look like a fool when I am the least bit interested in theatrical acts." Then, the both of you burst out into laughters, filling the void of the dead silence.

ZAYNE - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝

You flicked your wrist to stare at your new watch that Zayne had gotten for you. It is almost lunch time but you still did not managed to catch sight of Zayne anywhere. You scanned the crowd, watching staffs and patients zooming across the lobbies in various speeds. Weekdays are not an excuse for this famous hospital to have barren hallways as you have figured.

Heavy footfalls against the marbled flooring made you turned your head and you noticed Zayne standing near one of the pharmacy counters, with a girl right next to him. You knew all of the people your boyfriend is associated with but the absence of a memory for the girl's face suggested that she may be new around here. Your eyes started to study this stranger occupying herself right next to your boyfriend.

She has short, neat brunette hair that sits right below her ear lobes. Certainly well-dressed within the premises of the building; with a lilac blouse on and well-fitted jeans, with a pair of low pumps. Her clipboard in her arm and the blue tag pinned against her lovely blouse gave away her position as an intern. Then, this would explain why she would be around Zayne.

But, it does not explain the scenario when she said something with a grin and your normally emotionless boyfriend smiles back, all the while adjusting his necktie. Arbitrarily, you were not really affected by his reactions. He is human afterall. Although humourless most of the time, but it still does not deny him the opportunity to take in a good joke and react naturally to it. The young man nodded his head and you watched the intern walked off before you looked back to Zayne, noticing he already has his eyes on you and is already strutting over to you.

"Hey Zayne." You greeted him warmly, a smile on your face but not lurching forward to hug him as the both of you had agreed to not display any PDAs when he is still within his work premises. "Who's that just now?"

"An intern I was assigned with two months ago." He spoke, eyeing the watch on your wrist. "I see you are making good use of the Rolex. It's about time an adult like you keep track of your own time." You shot him a look of discontentment at his usage of puns but still laughed either ways. "I've gotten us a table at a nearby restaurant, let's get going."

"How's the steak?" Zayne asked, his hazel orbs glided from your face to your plate and back to your face again, expecting an answer.

The restaurant looked amazing, elegantly decorated in shades of white and gold, mirroring the decors and theme from those mythical stories that hailed from the ancient Greek and Roman mythologies. Gargoyles made of porcelain fitted within the alcoves of the vined halls, recessed within the stilts that holds up the ceiling.

"It is good, as per usual from your choice." You catch his eyes briefly and diverted your gaze back onto the meal in front of you. "What is the name of the intern?"

Zayne paused, taking a moment to sip onto the orange juice he had ordered and dabbing the napkin over his lips. "Azalea."

"It's funny how she was never mentioned to me before." It is your turn to lay down your cutlery this time, repeating the steps as what Zayne had done but the only difference is that you sipped onto lemon tea rather than orange juice. "Despite it has been two months."

The man that sat in front of you eased back into his chair, sighing. "I just figured she is an intern and that what goes on between me and her on a daily basis are not worth to be mentioned about. It seemed unnecessary." Your question was not meant to be an argument starter but with the way how Zayne sounded so dismissive about this intern of his, you could not help but to grow suspicious of things between them. When you are about to say something else, a subtle vibration was heard and you caught sight of Zayne's phone screen lighting up. "I have to take this." He got up and left the table to take the phone call outside, leaving you within your own realm of questions.

The phone call took a while. Much to your surprise, the name that flashed across his screen was none other than Azalea. Furthermore, the other surprise factor is that the phone call is taking such a while that you are beginning to imagine fishes appearing in your cauliflower soup. When Zayne came back to the table, he looked apologetic somehow, picking up his coat in a swift motion. "I have to return to the hospital now. I have an immediate surgery scheduled at 3pm later."

Walking beside him, you could not bring yourself to ask who was it on the phone as the name showcased on the screen was bright as day and it would not stop flashing up in your mind. You intertwined your own fingers, mentally encouraging yourself to not worry much about the issue as Zayne had always been loyal to you. However, this is where the devil starts pulling its strings when you started wondering was it because of the fact he had always been so loyal that he got bored? Maybe Azalea turned up to be a whole new, fresh, brilliant individual that may have managed to tempt Zayne. Your confidence in the relationship is immediately questioned at that moment.

"I'm sorry I can't fetch you back. Once you're home, drop me a text." Zayne rubbed his palm on the small of your back but his warmth seemingly non-existent. "I will see you soon."

After the last time the both of you had lunch, Zayne started getting really busy while you, you just got more and more isolated. No, things did not exactly ended between the both of you but at this rate, prepping yourself for the end of days may not be exaggerative at all. The both of you still do have phone calls everyday, but it was textbook-like. The usual greetings and casual singular-sentenced conversations before either one has to run off to work. Maybe sometimes, you might get the luck of hearing Azalea in the background, chattering and laughing off with that nurse that manages Zayne's schedule for the day.

Slowly but surely, the phone calls slowly turned into texts and eventually, your texts became haphazard, even going as far as you having to weigh your mood to determine your willingness to reply. You just could not bring yourself to ask him the question marks in your head, and yet, breaking up is not an option as this may just be a stupid thing to fight and end things up for. So, you struggled alone allowing yourself to be raptured within the palms of your own worries for the future of your relationship. It is also saddening to see that your thoughts now are only full of Azalea; with the memories of you and Zayne but your face being replaced by that intern's features.

A knock on the door made you jolted and you spilled some water onto your shirt. "Tsk, come on. Really?" Muttering to yourself, you got off of the sofa and made your way towards the doorway. Hands hurriedly dusting off the stain the best you could before you came face to face with the person standing at your door. "Hi, how can I—Zayne?"

“I figured you would be at home.” Zayne welcomed himself into your house and you willingly step aside, palms and forehead dripping with cold sweat. His presence has not been exactly expected, but maybe because it was unexpected, you find yourself flabbergasted at his sudden appearance. “You had been very…” He shrugged off his coat, his movements languid but slow, his words churning at the tip of his tongue as Zayne does not want to sound rude. “Distant lately. I came over to check up on you.”

“I was just busy.” You mumbled, toes wriggled against your wooden flooring to trick yourself int thinking time might speed up with this method. It has been a fair amount of time since the two of you had last met up. It has been a fortnight exactly. You missed him dearly but with your own Azalea dilemma, you could not make the judgement for him. Pessimistic one might say and sadly, you admit that you are a prime example for the term.

“Busy catching up on those reality shows of yours I see. That is one way to define busy.” Zayne stepped up to you, his height providing him an advantage to corner you towards your wall. “What’s the matter? You do not look so well. Do you need me to check—”

The extension of his hand was stopped with your grip before he could feel your forehead's temperature. Your cementing grip causing the doctor to raise one of his thin eyebrows. “I don’t need you here.”

“Why?” Subtle but pushy. His deepened voice hinted curiosity. Zayne has never been the one to bear the trait of being assumptive but with how things had developed between the two of you, Zayne himself started realising the amount of doubts that has been growing on him. He is not fond of his particular messy thoughts and he was ought to get an answer out of you tonight.

You released your grip on his wrist and the doctor did not move back, but stayed stagnant in his spot, still staring down at you, hoping that you would at least look up to meet his concerned gaze. He only got slightly disappointed when you lowered your head even further. “You had been cheating on me with Azalea haven’t you?”

Zayne’s eyebrows tilted upwards again, watching your figure growing smaller and smaller in front of him. You are literally shaking, melting, gnawing at yourself for wanting to confront him when your good conscience is asking every bit of you to not mess up what is left of the relationship. Still, a relationship without clarification via communication is as good as not being in a relationship. “Why would you think so?”

You can hear, no. You can feel your mind pushing your heart out of the way like how rugby players be doing on the field, roughhousing the shit out of every opponent they see. “We barely talked, we barely made plans, you are always at the hospital and I had to result to getting updates from your nurse about your schedule and all I see is that intern’s name on most of it. And usually, you would not even have interns on your surgery schedules. What makes her so special?” You wanted to stop yourself but your mouth was no longer yours.

“Not to mention, the way you smiled at her that day when I came by to visit you. It took me a year to get you to at least crack a smile at my stupid jokes but it only takes her two months. Your one-worded responses about her made it seemed like you are really hiding something from me. But, with how things are recently, I am starting to question the basis of our love for one another.”

Tears pricked at the back of your eyes after your yapping came to an end. “When I bought that watch for you to get a sense of time, I do not mean you should be wasting your time on having to crack your head and heart at such wringing issues like this y/n.” His sudden defensiveness made you snapped your head up towards him. How dare he! “I am a man of integrity y/n and I am sorry.” Your anger immediately dissolved, watching Zayne getting down onto one of his knees so that you do not have to crane your neck the whole time while having this conversation. He held your hand slowly, the soft and calloused palms of his matching the heat of yours and he pulled you to sit onto his thigh. “Allow me to explain.”

Apparently, the reason why they are both stuck to the hip is because Zayne was pressured by the medical board to provide her an ‘all-access pass’ to his treatments, surgeries and also anything related to his responsibilities. Zayne is not an advocate for someone who rises through the ranks with nepotism but he was also surprised that she is not just a nepo-baby, but she actually has the brains to be a capable doctor in the future. Hence, Zayne was more willing to overlook his moral judgement for a bit and to actually tutor her according to his own will to create a successful doctor for the near future. When he spoke of the incident whereas he was caught smiling at her, his response is straight. “She is a lesbian and she has a girlfriend.”

Slouched on the couch, you leaned in, nestling your face into his collarbone and you felt the pads of his fingers pressed against your chin and he guided you to look at him. The dashing young man that you are more than glad to acknowledge him as your boyfriend looked extremely seductive under the low light conditions. Zayne’s lips tugged up into a subtle smirk and you noticed the way his eyes flicked in between your eyes and your lips. Perhaps, he owns the talent of being a psychic. “Y/n. From now on, I do not wish for you to worry yourself with such ridiculous thoughts anymore. It concerns me that you are holed up only to yourself when my heart is opened for you and only you my darling. I need you to know that you can always rely on me and I will always be here for you.” The man then leaned down to press a deep kiss onto your soft lips.

XAVIER - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

The last thing you expected was to be attending the reunion party held by Captain Jenna on your long-awaited off day. Several other divisions are invited for this reunion as one of the main purpose for this party is to encourage everyone to let off some steam as well. You tugged lightly at the collar of your turtleneck, feeling like the outfit is not only choking you but your lack of motivation to conduct social interaction is having a grip at your trachea too. "It's nice to see you here." A familiar voice rung past your hearing and you watched your boyfriend approached you.

He is rocking his usual hunter outfit but this time it is in white-grey combination rather than the usual white-navy or full-white sets. He took his stand beside you and covered his mouth immediately, a yawn setting into his palms. Even your boyfriend is rhyming to the same mindset of yours of wanting to just have the day to himself or to spend it only with you. "I suppose you did not want to be here either?" You chirped, taking a deep breath and stepping into the hall, with Xavier tailing your shadow.

"Nothing ever beats a good nap. But, I guess I have no choice when Captain Jenna told me that you are obligated to join." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. Situating himself right next to you. "And I suppose it would not be a bad idea to accompany you in case you get lonely."

The normally neat, simplistic-looking hall is now decorated with colourful streamers and balloons. Standing cocktail tables are aligned near a temporary bar stand that was themed like a Hawaii beach-side bar while fancier banquet tables were placed at the end of the hall. But you gave the party the benefit of the doubt when you noticed a DJ is placed at the very end of the hall, spinning records on their devices. This party is a fun mess.

"I guess this is Captain's idea of a fun party huh?" Xavier asked, question indirectly directed towards you, but mostly towards himself. Cannot blame either one of you as none of you are known to be the best party goers amongst the division. If you both were to be placed into a category for the type of party-goers, the two of you would definitely fit right into the 'non-existent' type.

"Either ways Xavier, I know at least I got you." You turned to him and flashed him a smile and the blond man did the same, patting you on the head as well for his usual comforting gesture. "I think I will go ahead and look for Tara first. I'll see you in a bit."

"Okay. If you get overwhelmed, you can always find me and we can always make an excuse to ride home alright?" His azure orbs were tinted with a shade of baby blue under the garish fluorescent lights. Your nod rewarded you another pat on your head and you dived into the crowds of people, in search for your best friend Tara.

Honestly, at this moment, you wished you had not been looking for Tara as now you are stuck in this awkward social circle of hers. Conversations consisting mainly of newest fashion trends and celebrity gossips are such new grounds to you, more like never-will-touch grounds of conversation. "Hey, you alright?" Tara's pat on your shoulder snapped you out of your boredom and you blinked a couple of times.

"Y...yeah I am fine." Jeez. You should have asked for an opportunity to leave when you got to but your people pleaser attitude does not really grant you the will to just spit out an excuse and peace out. "I am just not the best at these kind of conversations." At least some parts of the truth managed to be rolled out.

"Girls! Girls! The dance is starting." One of the girls came joining the small circle, her smile stretched from ear to ear. "Let's hit the dance floor!" Then you watched as the freckled girl dragged Tara and another girl --whose name you do not recall-- through the crowd and towards the empty space in the middle of it all. The music suddenly had a drastic warped tune to it and it went from sentimental, lovey-dovey songs straight into songs one would blast in the gym or a nightclub.

You looked around and figured maybe this is the best time for you to plan your escape so you started to squeeze through bodies to get to the exit. As you passed by the dancefloor, a familiar figure reeled your attention and you focused in on the figure only to find Xavier standing in front of a girl, talking in the middle of the dancefloor. With the amount of people occupying the dancefloor, there is no doubt some form of physical contact would occur.

Speaking of which, you watched as a man bumped into Xavier and then he hit against the girl, arms reaching around her shoulder to steady himself. The fluorescent lights suddenly went off and laser-like pointers and stage lights becoming the main source of lighting. It is dimmer for sure, but not dim enough for you to figure out that Xavier and the girl are a little too close in each other's personal bubble.

"Look at that couple there." You overheard someone talking behind your back. "I heard they used to date back in the day but then things did not end well."

"Why? What happened?" Another voice chimed in right when the sentence finished.

"The girl got pregnant or so I heard." Your eyes widened in horror when you heard the story. Why have you not heard of the existence of Xavier's ex-girlfriend? He sure is and always have been a man of mystery but you did not expect that he would refrain to tell you such an important information. Here you thought him telling you about his most embarrassing memories of his younger self is considered intimate enough. You could feel your tears welling up, your gaze blurry as you tore your eyes off of the 'couple' and you stomped off and out of the hall, pushing through the crowd like a loaded bulldozer.

You got out of the crowd by jamming yourself through any visible gaps you can see in the aphotic surroundings. Once you got out of the doors, you took in a deep breath, taking in the smell of fresh air that held hints of sourness. Then, you got onto your bike and zoomed off into the embrace of the darkness.

Panting, you wiped the ichor off of the sides of your face, hissing at the gash on your wounded arm. A parting gift from the golem that you had just managed to defeat all by yourself. You flipped your wrist over and looked at your hunter's watch. "No more missions assigned to Agent y/n at this moment." The watch reported, the stiff robotic voice eliciting a huff of annoyance from you. Well, it is late in the middle of the night and you should really be on your way home.

You looked up into the skies as you navigated your way back to your vehicle. Stars littering all over the deadened skies provided a sense of relevancy to your self-isolation for the past few months. Your breakup with Xavier was done through a phone call, with you calling things off without even providing a explanation and blocking him right after. Following up, you requested to be switched to another branch and got yourself moved to a new location. Just like this, it was as if Xavier was never a part of your life.

But, he has been such a part of your routine for the past one year that it had left you in a state of bereft, seeking solace within the past fond memories that you had once shared with him. Before your trail of memories gained access to your mind, you halted your footsteps, eyes studying the three separate routes in front of you. Which one had you taken previously?

"Lost?" A voice startled you and you immediately drew your guns out of your garter belt, aimed directly at head shot level towards the source of the voice. But, you lowered your gun eventually when you came face to face with your ex-lover. "Or you just got caught up in your own thoughts?"

Your act of abnegation was shown with you not entertaining his question and instead, takes a step past him. Xavier however, held onto your arm to get you to stop and your wince alerted him of the laceration on your arm. "I'm fine, I do not seek for your care. I can handle it myself."

"Just like how you handled our breakup. Which is not the most mature I'd say." Xavier loosened his grip and sighed, turning to face you and his voice came off softer. "I have been searching everywhere for you, do you know that?"

"Like I'd said Xavier, there is nothing I wish to clarify to you. A breakup is a breakup." You stood your ground, eyes digging its way through the soil if that is an eligible euphemism amidst this awkward moment.

"You not having the wish to clarify the reasons for our breakup does not mean that I do not wish to know about it y/n. So, are you going to break it to me or would you wish to be left alone?" Desperation came upon his voice as he spoke. If you have a better sense of hearing, you might just be able to catch the slight change of octave in his voice. Oh, how you wish you could just disappear right now, just evaporating up into the night skies. "Y/n."

"Why did you kept a secret behind my back? Especially when it involves your ex-girlfriend having a pregnancy?" You managed to spit out after a minute of contemplation. Escaping is not an option for you either when your ex-lover has the ability to teleport within a good amount of range.

Xavier's lips opened and closed again, hesitation flashed across his face and his eyebrows knitted together now. "What?" His response to a question with another question got you curious so you looked at him. The poor young man looked shocked, eyes widened and jaws slacked. "I do not have an ex-girlfriend."

Your confidence crumbled with a big gaping hole in the middle of your heart as you stared at him with the same expression of his. "That day, at the reunion party. I saw you were chatting with a girl and I overheard the conversation from the people beside me stating that the both of you used to share an intimate connection and you got her knocked up--"

Your voice slowly trailed off when the moonlight peeked through the crevices in between the leaves of the trees, illuminating Xavier's lack of expression in front of you. Although he wears a poker face, you can tell that he was borderline amused and yet in a state of pity for your behalf. "Someone owes me a big apology I suppose." Yes, of course you do. "Just to fill in the gaps for you, the girl I was speaking to used to be my partner till she got married and have to take care of her child hence she got transferred to another division. The story that you heard of, was hers, but the guy part, I am definitely not involved."

"I'm so so sorry Xavier. I just couldn't believe what I was hearing and my emotions got to the best of me. I am so sorry." Your lip trembled as you spoke, voice cracking when you finally admitted that you are the jerk for having to pull such a stunt on him over some petty rumours that you refuse to address to him. "I didn't mean to." Your body was jerked forward and your forehead collided with his warm chest. His arms was quick to pull you in for a hug. "I forgive you y/n. It's okay, don't cry." Yet, you still failed to oblige and started to sob into his chest like a child that received her very first lecture. "I am glad I still managed to find you even after all of these months." His hand rubbed soothing circles onto your back until you regained back your composure. His palms rising up and falling down according to the undulating tempo of your breaths.

"Thank you for coming for me." Your arms tightened around his waist and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss onto the top of your forehead.

"I will be looking forward to you making up for this mistake of yours." He smiled, the moonlight cascading onto the both of you like a stage light. "Let's start with no more breaking up over stupid rumours okay?"

@elysiel is the lovely reader who came up with this idea hence I decided to put my own twist into things so I hope you are very much pleased my love and @prettytemis wished to be tagged when I post this up so here it goes! <3

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #lnds #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

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number1jeonginstan · 11 months ago

Text

Part of my Valentine's Day Collab!

A/N: My second installment!!! I wrote this one in one sitting, hopefully, y'all like it, please give me feedback because I love to read it <333

Pairing: FWB!Hyunin x Reader

WC: 2.5k

Warnings: Unprotected sex (obvi, it's me, Ju...), sex dice, foot job (m! receiving), fingering, cumming inside, fluffy sex but also not??!

Hyunjin, your best friend from high school, the man you had been sleeping with for the last 5 months because neither of you could find anyone to work around your schedules to sleep with, the person who you were getting drunk off of the expensive wine he was gifted, was begging you to roll a sex dice.

It all started with the two of you deciding to spend Valentine’s Day together, instead of falling into cheap marketing tricks of spending upwards of hundreds of dollars on your significant others, you decided to spend it with your fuck buddy.

You had come to his apartment at around 7 at night, holding a box of chocolates that your co-worker had given you as well as takeout food for the two of you.

The two of you sat down, watching a random show while munching on the Chinese food you had brought.

“They definitely fucked after the episode was shot” Hyunjin giggled, taking a bite of the egg roll that was in your hand causing you to let out a quick “hey!”

“I believe it” you replied back, taking note of their on-screen chemistry. “Their chemistry is just a bit too good”

“Kind of like ours?” he giggled, stealing another piece of your food even though he had his own on the plate in front of him.

“I aspire to be as delusional as you” you giggled, stealing a bite of his noodles as a way to get back at him. “Hey! Stop stealing my food!” he shouted, wrapping his arms around his plate to try and hide it from you.

“So when you do it, it’s okay, but when I do it hell freezes over? That’s not very kind of you Mr.World Renound Model”

“Exactly!” he grinned, kissing your lips before going back to the show in front of the two of you.

Your brain short-circuited for a second, he had just kissed you, on the lips, when the two of you weren’t having sex. This is the first time he’s ever done that, maybe it was on accident you thought to yourself, trying to distract yourself, you quickly asked him if he had anything to drink.

Maybe that’s what you had to do, loosen up, maybe you were just being a bit too up-tight because it was Valentine’s Day and you had vowed to never do couple-shit, but here you were with Hyunjin, but the two of you were just friends with benefits, right?

That’s what you kept telling yourself as you watched him open the bottle of wine for the two of you. You watched as his muscles flexed, his body ridden in only a black wife beater and grey sweatpants, the outline of his dick could be easily seen.

You could feel yourself getting wet at the sight of him, no wonder he was so famous, he’s fucking beautiful.

“I don’t have glasses anymore” he groaned taking out two mugs from his cabinet. One was littered with cats and the other with Minho’s face.

You looked at the mugs gobsmacked as it took you a second to process them, and as soon as you did, you busted out laughing. “Holy shit, are these the only things you have?” you giggled, watching him pour the contents of the bottle into the mugs.

“Hey, they were a gift from the cat lover himself” he replied, an offended look on his face.

“I’m just kidding, this will do just fine” you grinned, taking the cup with Minho’s face from him only to be stopped. “I don’t want you drinking out of this one” he quickly stated, handing it back to him only to grab the one with Soonie, Doongie, and Dori.

Little did you know the reason was because Hyunjin felt possessive over you, he didn’t want you drinking out a cup with another man’s face, an attractive one at that.

He watched as you took a sip of the drink in your hands, the way the red liquor stained your lips, the slight blush on your cheeks as the two of you drank out of your designated cups. He could feel his cock slowly stir in his pants, the sight of you was enough to get him hard, but it wasn’t just that.

He wanted to kiss you for hours, go on dates, and cuddle with you, but he was too scared. Too scared to ask, too scared that you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings. He sighed as you ate one of the chocolates you brought, watching the way you licked the caramel sauce off your fingers, grinning at the sight of your childish ways.

The two of you reminisced as you drank backs pressed against his couch, each sip of the fruity smooth liquid causing more and more of your secrets to slip, your laughs overlapping one another. It was peaceful, the sound of his laughter sounded like home, and for him vice versa.

As more secrets spilled from both of your lips, he stated something that caught your attention. “Hannie actually gifted me sex die for Christmas as a joke” he chuckled, reminiscing on how he glared at him as he saw what was in the velvet box.

“I thought they were the earrings I really wanted, but nope sex die. He did actually give me the earrings too, so not all was lost” he giggled, pouring more wine into his mug.

“Want to try them out?” you shrugged watching as he almost gagged on his drink.

“You really want to?” he stuttered, wiping the bit of wine that dribbled out of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I mean, why not? We can put that gag gift to use!” you grinned, crawling over to him, and straddling his lap. “Come on Jinnie, do you not want to?”

You looked up at him with the doe eyes he was a sucker for. He couldn’t say no to you, especially when you had asked ever so kindly.

He picked you up, your legs wrapped around his hips arms around his neck as he walked you to his room, gently laying you on his bed as he rummaged through his desk for the die.

You were on your back, hair splayed around you as you watched him, his eyebrows becoming unknit as he finally found them in the back of a drawer.

“Here” he giggled, giving you the die to roll. “Let’s see” you whispered, looking at what it landed on.

Right there, clear as day, the body part had landed on foot, the act was job. “Guess I’m giving you a foot job!” you giggled, watching his face go from one of worry to one of perplexity.

“A what!” he shouted a bit too loud, causing you to laugh. “Come on, don’t tell me you are scared. Plus, aren’t you the one who wanted to and I quote “eat my feet”?”

“I was, but this might be uncomfortable for you” he whined, not wanting you to do something you weren’t one hundred percent sure about.

“I’m not uncomfortable, plus I want to try it. If I don’t like it, or you don’t we don’t have to do it again” you explained to him, getting up on your knees to be face to face with him, your lips kissing his in reassurance.

“I mean if you aren’t opposed to it–”

“I knew it, Seungmin owes me 100 bucks”

“You bet on me having a foot fetish?” he stuttered out.

“Yes, now lay back” you stated, dragging him onto his bed, his back against the headboard as your foot brushed against his cock. He let out a groan at the contact, his dick already hard as soon as you brought up the die.

You slowly rubbed your foot against his sweatpants, watching the way his head was thrown back, slight moans leaving his lips as he pulled down his joggers. His already erect cock slapping against his stomach.

You slowly brushed your pedicured foot along the underside of his cock, watching the way he bit his lip as your toes ran along his tip. “Fuck baby, just like that” he groaned, a hand slapping over his mouth as your toes curled along his length.

Each pump of your foot around his cock made him closer and closer. “If you keep going like that, I’m going to cum” he whined. You slowly got up from your position across from him, straddling him as you kissed his lips.

His lips formed a pout as you pulled away, your hands gravitating towards his head, brushing his hair behind his ear. “Has anyone told you how pretty you are” he whispered out loud, taking in the rise and fall of your chest.

He slowly pulled your shirt off your body, groaning at the sight of your tits, a black lacy bra adorning your breasts. “Fuck, these are so beautiful too” he whispered against your collarbones, kissing and biting them as he slowly traveled to your breasts.

He reached behind your back, unclipping your bra only to hear your breath catch in the air as he slowly pinched one of your nipples, sucking on the other one.

“Jinnie” you whined, your hand running through his hair once again as he continued to abuse your chest.

“Such a whiney baby for me, I love it” he groaned as he left marks all over your chest, cupping your breasts.

“Need you” you whined feeling your pussy drip at every passing moment that he wasn’t inside of you.

“My baby needs me?” he chuckled, kissing your lips before slowly pulling down your own sweats, and throwing them somewhere in your room, along with your underwear.

Before you could even do anything, he flipped you over, your body underneath him as he took sight of you. Your chest is littered with hickies, and your lips plump from kissing him over and over again.

You were heaving as your hair surrounded your face. You were art and he wanted to stare at you forever. He took sight of your leaking pussy, his fingers trailing across it, catching the juices.

“You are so wet for me sweetheart, can’t believe you were trying to help me without taking care of yourself, such a selfless little girl” he whispered before slowly pushing his fingers into your cunt, stretching you out on his long fingers.

“Just for you Jinnie, want to be such a good girl for you” you whimpered, your walls clenching around his fingers.

“Yeah, you are a good girl for me, such a good girl, the best” he chuckled, kissing your lips as his fingers continued to abuse your cunt. He wanted to find that spot inside of you that made you go crazy.

“You want to cum baby? Want to cum for me?”

“Want to cum on your cock” you whined as you felt your high get closer as he slowly brought one of his fingers down to your clit.

“My poor baby wants me to cum inside her, is that what’s it?”

“Yes, want your cum Jinnie, please want it deep inside of me”

“Who am I to deny such a sweet girl?”

He slowly pulled his fingers out of you, eyes blown out at the sight of you whining at the loss of contact. He slowly ran the tip of his cock along your folds, watching as your poor little hole clenched around nothing but the air.

He gently slapped the tip against your clit, eliciting a quiet moan from your lips before dragging it down and slowly pressing his cock into your cunt, watching you as your eyes rolled behind your head as he sheathed the entirety of his cock into your tight little cunt.

“Take my big cock” he groaned, slowly thrusting inside of you, your back arching slightly off the bed as he thrusts into you harder, lifting your hips up so he could hit the spot he had with his fingers minutes prior.

“Is it good baby?”

“So good, such a good cock, only cock I want” you whimpered as his thrusts began to get faster, a finger trailing down to your clit giving you the extra stimulation you needed.

“There we go baby, come on, cum on my cock. You can do it, cum on Jinnie’s cock” he groaned into your ear, feeling the way your cunt was wrapped around him, sucking his cock in as he fucked you.

“Ah– too deep” you whined, you could feel him hit your cervix, the tip of his cock thrusting against it, but he didn’t stop.

“There we go baby, good girls cum on my cock” he groaned, he could tell that your high was nearby the noises that escaped your lips, and the way your thighs were wrapped around his torso.

It only took one more particularly deep thrust for your cunt to spasm around his cock, sucking him in deeper.

“So good!” you screamed, your head lolling to the side as he continued to pound into as he chased his own high.

“Fuck, gonna cum into this tight little pussy” he whined into your neck, his thrusts getting more sporadic as he came deep inside of you, your walls drinking up every ounce of his cum.

He fell on his back as you wrapped your arms around him, his cock softening inside of you.

He looked at you, brushing the hair off your face.

“I should get going” you whispered to no one but yourself. Before you could even get up, he stopped you. “Don’t please” he whined, his hand wrapped around your wrists.

“Please baby, I want to spend every Valentine’s Day with you. I want to take you on dates, I want to make you breakfast in bed. I want to do every sappy thing we said we hated about couples with you. Please, let me do this for you, with you” he pleaded, kissing your cheeks and then your lips.

He pulled away, waiting for your response, his eyes pleading for you to say yes.

“As long as you don’t poison me with your terrible cooking, I would love to go out with you” you giggled, kissing his lips.

“This isn’t a dream is it?” he whispered out loud, thinking to himself.

“It isn’t” you giggled, cuddling him closer to your body, your head laying against his chest. Maybe Valentine’s Day isn’t as bad as you thought.

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the-kr8tor · 1 month ago

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250 Years of Longing

Pairing: Vampire! Hobie Brown x Fem! Vampire! Reader

Word count: 5.8k

Synopsis: A brief misunderstanding leads to years of heartache. You mourn 250 years of love while his heart remains to you and only you.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, vampire AU, divorced! Vampire! AU, established relationship, CW blood, talks of marriage, hurt/comfort, some fluff.

A/N: Special thanks to @pleaktale !!! This au was born in our dms lol

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Hobie's words are muffled in your ears as you try to hide your trembling, lovelorn body. Your head is in your hands, wide eyes downturned towards the same scruffed floors you've lived in for thirty years with him. You still remember the day you moved in, the walls were in bright yellow back then, wooden floors hidden by some gaudy shag carpet from the 70s. You still remember that decade like it was yesterday, maybe it was just yesterday, being a vampire means that time has moved differently for you. Time is merely something you gloss over, years flying by in a wink. Barely a flutter in your immortal eyes.

Even technology is moving faster and innovating quicker than you could manage to keep up. The next thing you know, you've been alive for more than 250 years.

250 years of being with him, 250 years of wearing the same identical ring, 250 years of loving him. All those 250 years are going through your mind a thousand miles per hour, your first kiss with him, your confession. Or was it him who confessed to you? Were you the one who got sick and he had to find a vampire to turn you and in turn to change him? Or was it the other way around? Memory is a fickle thing when you're older than any living human on earth. You've forgotten a lot of things, memory hazy and foggy like a dream you don't quite remember the second you wake. You wish this was just a dream, a nightmare that you'll wake up from.

“I need to try— I need to go, love.” His words wake you up from the lucid nightmare. He stands in the middle of your shared room, eyes forlorn, brows pinched together like he's in agony. “I can't stay ‘ere like this.”

If his words could kill, you'd be staked through the heart by now. 250 years of being together, practically joined at the hip. A love beyond a simple marriage on paper. And he's just standing there, breaking your long dead heart.

You look up at him through bloody tears, nails digging into your scalp as you try to hide your wails. An impossible feat. “Was it me? Did I do something?” You've faced vampire hunters together, faced horrors beyond belief to survive and continue to live with him. But you were never terrified, until now.

He immediately shakes his head, moving closer to you to take your trembling hands. The identical rings on his and your finger clinks together as he clasps your hand. “No, it's not you, love.” Kneeling down, he gazes at you through wine red eyes, bloody tears threatening to spill over his cheeks that you would always caress in your shared coffin that's hidden beneath the canopy bed you're currently languishing in.

“That's what they all say.” You utter in a small voice that he hasn't heard in decades.

Grasping your hands, he rubs his thumbs over your pulse where your heart would beat. Something he still does even though your hearts haven't beat together in sync ever since that fateful day.

“You didn't do anythin' wrong. I jus’ need to find myself, go out and see the world in my own eyes.”

You nod bitterly. “Without the burden of me.”

“That's not true, you're not a burden.” His hands reach towards your cheeks, wiping the bloody tears cascading down them like rain drops on a cold autumn day. “There are people I could help out there—”

“And I can't? Why can't you just bring me with you?” You wrench yourself away from him, walking away from the bed to give him space lest you let him see you like this. “Just say you're tired of me.” Hugging yourself, you feel his arms wrap around your middle, face tucked in the crook of your neck right where your scar sits.

“‘m not tired of you.” He says against your skin.

Your twist in his arms to face him fully, palms resting on his chest, eyes dim and scared. “Then why leave? Why do you want to leave me?” His shirt is bunched around your fists, desperate to cling to him despite his wishes. “250 years, Hobie. I've known you for more than that, been with you through all of it. I deserve to know why.” You try to reign in your anger and frustration but your fangs suddenly appearing betrays you.

“I don't want to leave you— Time, love. I jus’ need time. That's all we've got.”

You're tired, tired of asking why, tired of clinging to him like a life raft. Tired of your chest aching and feeling heavy as he looks at you with pity— was it pity? Or something else? So you let him go. Fists unfurling, palms leaving his chest as you step away from him.

“Alright.” You sniff, expression falling stiff as you straighten up. “I won't stop you.” If your love for him keeps him from doing what he loves, then you'll let him go. You can still love him from afar, even if he doesn't want you anymore.

“Love.” Hobie reaches your hand, palm sliding up to your elbows as he pulls you closer to embrace you fully. “250 years, not once did I feel I didn't love you.”

You close your eyes as you find yourself hidden atop his throat, memorizing his scent and how he holds you. Feeling how his own tears drip down on you, how his skin feels against your own. Memory is a fickle thing, you'll soon forget, but you don't want to. So you'll cling to him, even if it's just a memory of him.

“I love you, y’know that right?” He whispers to you, and only to you.

“I—” you falter. If you say it back, it feels like goodbye. And you don't want to say goodbye to the one person you have loved for centuries. “—I know, Hobie.” You could only say, saying it back means that you're never going to see him again. Saying it back means it's the end.

He could only hold onto you tighter, lips pecking the crown of your head so gently that you barely felt it in your lovelorn state.

You've got time, but it won't be spent with him. Eternity would feel empty for you now.

—

It's been six months of being alone, six months since he moved out to find his purpose. He wanted to leave partly so you could also find yourself and be yourself without his presence. 250 years of being together would do that. He doesn't know where he ends and begins when your soul and his own are tangled together for eternity. And he wants that for you too— to be your own self and not just another vampire in the cursed flock.

To be a better eternal partner for you is one of his goals, he needed to leave so he could be better, so he could be good to you for another 250 years more.

And he's willing— wishing that he gets to spend eternity with you after he's satisfied with what he has done to help people. He just hopes that you'd be home to welcome him back once he does. He's sure that you're already making good progress in finding yourself. He already misses you. A lot.

He's already aching for home and your embrace.

So much has happened in those six months, he's excited to tell you everything he has encountered. And even more excited to hear your voice again, to hold you again and sleep in the same coffin with you again and not the shoddy temporary coffin he made out of planks to rest in. He can already see your ecstatic face when he enters the abode again.

Ned has told him that he won't last a year without you. He'd know, Hobie has been friends with him for almost a hundred years now. But he refuses to let him win, even though he really wants to see you right now, or even call you on one of those phones that people seem to be addicted to. But you haven't picked up his calls, or even answered his letters. He has sent one everyday since he left, he's starting to worry now. Even the crew who urged him to go on a worldwide mission with him has placed bets on when he'll run back to you. With the earliest being tomorrow, and the longest being a year. He intends to make them lose, but by god, he misses you so damn much that he's starting to see you in his dreams. And see glimpses of you in the corner of his eyes.

He doesn't regret his decision, but a part of him thinks that you were right— that he should've brought you with him on his journey. Without you his frozen heart feels like it's out of his own body. Walking around without him, living without him. But he knows that it's for the best. It's only temporary, he keeps repeating to himself every night. He'll be with you soon.

As he writes today's letter, he smiles, hands scribbling his day away on the fragrant paper that he knows you'd love especially when it's sprayed with his own perfume.

He can't wait to see you back home.

—

You were absolutely losing it in that house. You keep seeing him everywhere. With every clatter in the halls, you run towards it in hopes that it's him making a ruckus in the kitchen. With every shadow cast on the walls, you see him walking towards you, arms outstretched to hold you. And then for a moment, he's gone, like a whiff of smoke billowing from a lit cigar.

The house that has love built within its walls seems to tilt in your vision. Weighed down by your grief. You don't know where to place your feeling of abandonment, do you place it in the kitchen where you two used to feed together? Or do you put it right next to your withdrawal, your need to be with him once again?

You choke on your own need.

So you take a page from Hobie's book and left. After just two days of him being gone, you packed your bags and headed out to nowhere. You can't stay anywhere that you have stayed with him before, you're afraid that you'll burst into bloodied tears if you even get a whiff of the same place where you two met all those centuries ago.

You haven't felt this alone since you were nineteen, well, you haven't been nineteen in a long time. You could barely remember your days before you were turned— died. It's like looking into a window of a well lit house whose occupants you once knew well but couldn't talk to anymore. In that well lit house is you and him. Just you and him, him and you.

The lamp posts are hazy in your eyes, buildings whizzing by in a blur of crimson tears. You took the midnight bus, hand never leaving the ring on your finger, and just sat there until the route ended. Then you rode a train, then a boat. And again and again until you reached a little coastal town with a name you could barely remember on good days. And with bad days, the crying comes and goes. Chest still aching, claw marks left all over the tiny cottage you brought.

A dark cloud has settled on you, but with each day passes, with each interaction from the town’s people with their good nature and good intentions, the dark cloud slowly ebbs away. The sun shines on you once again after a year and a half without him, it doesn't burn you nor scorch your skin anymore, it lights your way. The people and the soft sea breeze helped you cope through the uncertainty of being alone.

250 years of togetherness, and not one day you've felt alone, or felt like you've wasted your time with him. 250 years of memories, not one you felt like it went all down the drain. It was worth it, all the calm days to the rough one, it was all worth it.

You still wish to see him, to talk to him, to taste his saccharin ichor on your tongue; to kiss him until you're both laughing against each other's kiss bitten lips. It's a normal feeling, a neighbour once told you after you told her your story (excluding the vampirism). It's alright to miss someone who might not miss you back.

There's a hole that he left in your chest, and you find that you can't fill it in no matter how much you try to fill it with friends and good moments. But it shrinks, it gets smaller with time. It gets better with each day that passes. It has gotten better.

No longer do you feel that time has passed in a blur of colours. It has slowed for you, time. You go outdoors and breathe in the salty air, you talk to people, people you would've ignored back then. You do things you haven't done in decades. And you find that time has barely passed. You live each day, savour it, conquer it with warmth akin to his palm atop your own.

You wish him nothing but the best, and as you promised yourself on that day, you'll continue to love him from afar. The moon gazing down on you reminds you of him, everything reminds you of him. And that's alright, love does that. And it will continue to do so for the rest of eternity.

You've got nothing but time to heal and fill the void with as much light as you can.

—

Hobie's gnawed with exhaustion, but happy, incredibly happy. After two years of being away, he has helped so many lives with his ‘abilities’. He has plucked away corrupt officials with his own clawed hands, fangs coated in a sheen of rubies, eyes bright and almost glowing in its pools of crimson. He's proud of what he has accomplished, he hopes that you would be too.

Two years went by without you, he may have won the bet by a long shot but he can't stay for another day more. He needs to go home to you or he feels like he'll combust into searing flames if he doesn't get to see you and hold you within the day. He longs for your warm ichor on his tongue, and how you always laugh at his antics after all these years. He smiles at his ring, excited to see its partner in your finger once again.

So he forgoes to write you a letter in an attempt to surprise you with his return. He packs his bags, waves goodbye to his old and new found friends, going home without wasting another second. You're his bright spot amidst the dark eternity, his sun that lights the way, and he finally feels that he's worthy of you. Worthy of your time.

He knows himself better than he did when he was just nineteen and lost in the threads of life. He feels as if he traveled back in time, back when he was a human who craved to leave his mark in the world. Only this time, he accomplished the latter. Now, as he promised himself that day, he's coming back home.

He's going back home to you.

—

A letter mysteriously arrives at your doorstep. Its pitch black envelope and red wax seal with the unmistakable seal of the vampiric council sends anxiety coursing through your frozen veins.

Is it Hobie? Has something happened to him? Did he fight a council member again? Did you unintentionally and unknowingly break a rule? Or perhaps it's just a newsletter? You could only hope that it's a newsletter.

You open it immediately to calm yourself. Sharp nails ripping the black envelope open. Reading the contents, you sigh in relief at the invitation. An invitation to a soiree, the kind you and Hobie were never invited to because it's well known that you two have been together for centuries. Hell, it's in their records to begin with.

Tamping down your yearning thoughts, you skim the invitation some more. You find that it's a masquerade, ‘to make it interesting in finding your eternal partner,’ it read in its fancy gold lettering. They need to find a better writer to write their invitations, you thought.

You feel like scoffing at the idea of you dressing up and looking pretty just to find a person who may or may not leave you after they feel the urge to change. As you flip the matte paper around, your mind changes with the words ‘goody bags will be given to those who don't find a partner by the end of the day.’ You can't resist a good party favour, especially when it's from the rich vampire council who once gave away mustangs and harleys to the vampires who made it to a hundred. You might hate their guts, but you can't deny how well they can plan a good soiree.

Leaving your cottage, you don your thick coat and take out your trustee umbrella to wade through the sun illuminated town in hopes of buying a somewhat presentable gown to wear. You might've skipped the part in the invitation that says, ‘satisfaction guaranteed!’

—

Hobie stands on the porch of your shared home with a big giddy smile on his face. He notices all the plants you loved so much have wilted, grass turned into a shade of murky brown, and the porch is littered with dust and grime. He ignores the state of his home in favour of the thought of you being too busy traveling and meeting friends or trying out different hobbies. He could only hope that you're well. That you feed whenever you're hungry, he knows how much you hate hunting, especially without him. He remembers that you always make it a night, basically a date night with him that ends with a dead asshole in an alleyway with four unmistakable pin pricks on the side of their neck.

He should've planned more before he left, made sure that you'd be prepared for anything while he's gone. He'd hate to be gone when a would be vampire hunter attacks your home. His fists clenches around his suitcase, now his fear of you being staked through the heart in his own house takes hold of his entire body. You can handle yourself in a fight, but he's afraid of losing you in such a violent way when he could've been there to save you.

With fear clawing at his chest up to his throat, he unlocks the front door with a creak. Then the door stops, as if something is blocking the way.

“Love?” He calls for you in the dark foyer. The vase you always kept filled with flowers that sits on a desk near the door has completely covered in dust, roses wilted. Flowers no longer blooming in its porcelain form. His iced heart shudders in his chest. “Love, it's me, don't attack, yeah?” Chuckling nervously, he pushes the door fully despite the resistance.

The sound of papers crinkling under the pressure of the door sends him into a tizzy. His eyes narrow downwards at the piles upon piles of envelopes next to his feet. Squeezing inside, he tosses his suitcase haphazardly further into the foyer. It thumps loudly on the wooden floorboards, contents tumbling out and spilling over the floors.

His frantic eyes scan the letters, kneeling down, he finds that the letterbox flaps on the door is practically bursting with the amount of envelopes that were shoved in.

Frowning, he takes one in his trembling fingers, thumbs running along your name that he wrote himself.

“What the fuck?” He asks breathlessly into the void. He finds that every single one of them remains unopened.

Standing upright as quick as lightning, he runs around the house like a headless chicken looking for its head. He checks the living room, none, except for spiderwebs clinging on his guitar perched on the wall. His anxiety eats him from the inside out with every door he flings open. The sounds of his thundering footsteps echo inside the shared home, oil paintings of you and him are threatening to fall from its fixtures as he sprints through every door, looks through every crevice for you. And opens every cabinet and even climbs up to the attic to no avail.

There's no blood nor sign of a fight or forced entry. At least he knows that you haven't been attacked. But his mind lingers on one question, ‘where are you?’

He heaves in the middle of the bedroom where he saw you last. The shared coffin was left revealed and out in the open, he can still smell your perfume lingering in the velvet walls of the coffin, fingers running along the sides as he desperately tries to feel you through the fabric.

You're not here. You haven't been here for a long time.

“Fuck,” he balls up the fabric in his fist. There's no sign of you anywhere, not even a letter for him to read. It's unlike you to not leave a note. You always leave one, even if you're just going to the garden. “Where the fuck are you, love?”

The sound of the deep sounding doorbell startles him in place. With his quick movements, he makes it to the door within a half second. That could be you outside.

Hobie practically rips the door open with both hands as he wretches it away in hopes that it could be you. With a grin, he only sees a bat flapping away, and a dark envelope left at his doorstep.

“Fuckin' council.” Quickly grabbing the letter, he closes the door behind him. He could only hope that the letter is for him, that they're chastising him for what he has done. It can't be a letter of condolence pertaining to you, it can't be.

—

Your champagne flute filled with blood is starting to coagulate. Crimson staining the sides of the fancy glass as you slosh it absentmindedly. You stand in the corner right next to the fountain of warm blood gushing out of a mermaid's vase. At least you get to drink your fill.

The party is in full swing, the grand hall is filled with single vampires mingling with each other. Their mindless chatter falls on deaf ears as you look up at the crystal chandeliers illuminating the event. Cigar smoke rises up from the bloodied lips of vampires, turning the air more acrid than the scent of sweat and drying blood from the feeding area just below the event hall.

You're starting to think that the goody bag isn't worth it anymore, even if it has the meaning of life tucked inside it.

The sound of tinkling glass and footsteps takes your attention from the foggy ceiling. The stranger smiles at you through his domino mask. Lips smirking as he makes his way towards you with two bloody cups.

“May I join you?” He asks in a low soothing voice. His suit is in velvet blue, golden charms hanging off him like fine gold threads weaved over him. You raise a brow at him, hopefully he can see it rise above your flowery mask. “Someone as pretty as you shouldn't be spending the night alone like this.”

You scoff quietly, refraining from rolling your eyes. “How would you know that I'm pretty under this mask?” He grins wider at your comment. “For all you know, I'm hideous under this.”

Chuckling, the platinum haired man shrugs. “I just know. You give off the aura of someone gorgeous.”

You scoff light-heartedly against the rim of your glass. “I bet you've said those exact words a dozen times tonight.”

He smirks, fang poking out from his lips. “No, just this once.” Plucking your coagulated drink from your hand, he swiftly and gracefully replaces it with a new one. The drink is still warm, fresh from the veins. “I only use my skills wisely lest it be wasted.”

You stare at him with a raised brow, the corner of your lips curl into an unsure smile. “Wasted on who?” Taking a step away from the man who clearly wants his fangs in your neck, you dawdle on drinking from the glass he gave you.

Chuckling, he glances at the vampires milling about the ballroom, their fancy clothes swishing from side to side as they try their best in recreating a moment in the past.

“The…unremarkable vampires.”

“And you think I'm remarkable enough for you…?”

The stranger takes your hand without another word, leaning down to press a cold kiss against your skin. “Just call me Count Tepes.”

You blink at his name, then you feel it, a recognizable warmth flooding your frozen veins akin to a gentle summer's breeze upon your cheek. A comfortable heat pressing against your throat, a familiar presence making its way towards you in haste.

“Who's this, love? You chattin’ up my wife?” Hobie's arm is suddenly around your waist, calloused hand pressing gently atop your bodice, fingers slithering under the ribbons on your hips in a comfortable and welcomed possessive nature. “Didn't know we were lookin' for a third. If we were, I wouldn't choose this bloke.”

As you crane your neck to stare at him, your expression morphs into a combination of pain and relief. “Hobie?”

“Yeah, lovie?” He pulls you closer against him, a pearlescent mask hiding half of his face but you could recognize him by mere touch alone, by his tone, by his warmth. You could lose him in the crowd and you'd know him from the sound of his footsteps. His smirk turns into a frown at your expression, hand squeezing your side once for comfort. “You alright?”

“Is he bothering you?” The count asks with an annoyed tone. Golden eyes narrowed to slits at the punk holding you close.

“I think you're the one bein' a bother ‘ere, mate.” Hobie sneers, tugging away at your glass to chug it in one gulp without leaving his glare at the fellow vampire. He licks at his bloodied lips, fangs bared, blood dripping down from the corner of his smirk.

Tepes raises a sharp brow at you, you, whose mind is running a thousand miles per hour. With a heavy inhale, you give him your best smile. “No need to worry, I'm with him.” Hobie puffs out his chest smugly.

The Count chuckles with a shake of his head in reply. “Not again, just my luck, hm?” Taking a swig, he swallows down the thick blood. “It's either couples looking for a third, a fourth, or even a fifth. Or someone who just went to the party to inspire jealousy in their husband.” Glancing at you, he sighs and nods curtly at you before leaving without another word.

“Really, love, him?” Hobie scoffs with a grin, ringed finger tapping on his— your glass. “You could do better—”

You whirl away from him, not having the heart to fully push him away. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doin' ‘ere?” Hobie furrows his pierced brows, his identical ring still on his ring finger. The ruby glows under the chandeliers, the same shade as his immortal eyes.

You stare at him with bemused shock, “you left!”

“On a bloody soul searchin’ not leavin' you!”

“What?” You blink rapidly at his words. “You said you couldn't stay anymore—” a cough stops you in your tracks. An older vampire with the biggest beard you've ever seen taps his foot impatiently, thick brow raised in annoyance. “Sorry.” You murmur before leaving towards the closed balcony doors.

“Sorry, Santa.” Hobie waves him away, following right behind you as you struggle to open the double doors. “You have to—” he places the glass down to help you by putting his hands above your own. “— love, you have to push the bloody knob.”

His hands felt like how they used to, as if two years hadn't passed. With a click, the doors swing open. “Damnit, I had it.” You step into the cold air, trembling hands resting on the cool marble balcony.

The doors shut close as Hobie tentatively steps closer to you. “You look fit.” You scoff at him as his shoulders heave in an inhale. “I wouldn't leave you.”

“But you did.” You utter under your breath, you know he heard it above the breeze.

“Can I explain myself? I don't want to fight, love.” 250 years together and you've only fought a handful of times, and the serious ones are lesser than the nonsensical ones. With your apprehensive nod, he crosses the small distance, settling himself right next to you and at the same time giving you enough space. “I didn't break it off.” He takes off his mask, sighing heavily as he twirls his ring around his finger. “I should've explained it better.”

You finally meet with his eyes. The ring in your pocket seems to grow heavier. “You were gone for two years, Hobie.”

“For a good cause, I didn't feel like myself and I wanted to be better, not just for you but for myself.” He leans closer to you, the full moon bathing him in silver, the light caught by his piercings. “250 years together, do you think I'd leave you just like that?”

“You didn't have to be better for me. You're already great to me.” Your affectionate words echo in the breeze as his chest clenches, guilt stomping down on him. “I thought you didn't find me fascinating anymore. That you didn't need or want me anymore.” Your voice is small, almost broken. “250 years together could do that, Hobie.”

“I could never not find you fascinatin’, and I get to wake up next to everythin' I could ever need or want. You're anythin’ but.” With a brave hand, he reaches for your cheek, wiping a bloodied tear you didn't notice you've let out. “I thought you got hurt, or worse.”

He feels a tear run down his cheek. Gently taking your mask off of your face, he could finally see you in all your glory. He gazes into your shining eyes— he may not be able to see himself in the mirror, but he doesn't need to when your eyes are enough to reflect his own blissful face.

You lean further into his hold, palms reaching towards his chest like you used to. “D–did you do it? Did you get to do what you wanted to? Are you happy?”

Hobie nods before placing his forehead against yours to savour your close presence. “I did, all that and more. And I've always been happy with you.”

Smiling, you pat his cheek affectionatly. “Then I'm proud of you.” Leaning away, you wipe away a stray tear from his chiseled cheek. “So it was a misunderstanding? You didn't actually break off our…marriage?”

He smiles softly, knuckles gently running along your jaw. “Why’d you hesitate, hm? And yeah, I should've explained myself better. ‘m sorry.”

You thump your fists on his leather clad chest as he chuckles. “You could've saved me from a lot of fucking tears, Hobie.” You can now admire him fully, his outfit is a contrast to the other party goers with their silks and chiffon, but he makes it look good— he always looks this good.

Taking your wrists, placing it atop his still heart, he tilts his head with an affectionate smile. “You didn't answer my question. And you took off your ring.” He raises a questioning brow, fingers bracelets around your wrist as he moves your empty ring finger around. “Were you honestly tryin' to get with that wanker?”

“No,” you say immediately, “And if I remember correctly, we never technically married. I'm only here because they had nice things in the party favors. And I thought, ‘why not? The worst that could happen is that I get a bloody ipad instead of a mustang like I hoped.’” Your lips wobble as you tamp down a sob, eyes getting blurry. “I couldn't replace you just like that. It would take me a thousand years to get over you, you idiot.”

Hobie laughs wholeheartedly, a sound you dearly missed. He pauses then inhales, eyes warmly staring at you through the haze of affection. “Fuck, I missed you so goddamn much.” With a quick pull, he embraces you firmly with his face hidden on the crook of your neck, lips brushing along your throat. “You're right, ‘m an idiot for not explainin’ better, and for not takin’ you with me. ‘m sorry.”

You wrap your arms around him tighter, nose nuzzling his temple. “Could've just told me you were having a mid-life crisis.”

He laughs against your skin. “I sent you letters everyday, you didn't reply.” Subtly, he dances with you from side to side under the moonlight and the music of crickets chirping. “I went home and you weren't there. If I wasn't already dead, you would've given me a heart attack.”

“I couldn't stay there alone.” You hold him impossibly closer. “You weren't there.”

Hobie imagines you in that big house all alone waiting for him. “Fuck, ‘m sorry.”

“I know, I forgive you. Just bring me next time, okay?” He nods with a grin. You lean away, cradling his face in your careful hold, thumbs rubbing along his cheeks. “I'll read your letters, all of them once we get back home.”

“Why read ‘em when I can tell you?” He grins, temptation pushing him to meet with your waiting lips. “‘sides, ‘m a better storyteller than a writer.”

You chuckle softly as he pecks you once, twice then leaning away only to move back with another gentle kiss. “I've got stories to tell too.” You utter against his soft lips.

“Yeah?” He smiles proudly at you. “Can you tell me all about them while your lips are on mine?”

You beam at him. “I can, I have telepathy for a reason, Hobs.”

“Thank fuck for telepathy.” He says as he kisses you fervently just like he always had in 250 years of being together. “I should've married you, lovie.” His words are uttered in between kisses.

“We have time.” You whisper against his smiling lips whilst he picks your pockets and slips your ring in your finger once again.

As you kiss him, you can see that he's already planning the event in his giddy mind. You tell him the three words you've been aching to say back in his head. And in turn, he takes you further into his arms as dark wispy smoke envelopes you both in an embrace. In a blink, you're back home with him. The house feels warm again.

228 notes · View notes

strnilolover · 4 hours ago

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there was something so attractive about the raw, unfiltered side of chris that came out when he gamed. the way his jaw clenched whenever the game got intense, the subtle furrow of his brows, and the way he muttered under his breath when things didn’t go his way. it had your thighs clenching—a wet patch forming in your panties.

you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on him for too long, the ache to just—do something—growing stronger by the second. before you could second-guess yourself, you slid off his bed and padded silently toward his desk.

he didn’t notice you at first, headphones on and completely lost in his game. that suited you just fine. without a word, you knelt down and eased yourself under his desk.

“ma?” chris’ voice broke through as he lifted one side of his headphones, glancing down to find you settling between his legs. his brows lifted in surprise, but there was a flicker of intrigue in his eyes. “what do you think you’re doing?”

“jus’ keep playing,” you say, your voice breathless—hands sliding lightly over his knees, and creeping up his thighs slowly. his breath hitched, his legs stiffening under your palms. “you’re unbelievable,” he muttered, his lips curving into a faint smirk.

“maybe,” you murmured, your fingers brushing the waistband of his sweatpants. “but you’ve been sitting here too long. let me take care of you—please.” you say, your voice tampering off into a small whimper.

chris’ head tilted back against the chair, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. “yeah? wanna take care of me?” he asked. and you nod, your fingers dipping below the waistband of his sweats and beginning to tug them down. he lifts his hips, making it easier for you.

his cock sprung from his boxers, already red and leaking. the sight made you gasp, thighs clenching together once more. “look at you,” he murmured. “you really can’t help yourself, huh? so needy for me, baby.”

his hand came down to cup your face—thumb brushing softly over your cheek. the touch sent a thrill through you, leaning into his hand as your head tipped up. “i just want to make you feel good.” you whisper, his dark orbs staring into you. his thumb grazing the corner of your lips. his voice roughening slightly. “always so eager to please.”

a soft hum escaped you as you let your lips brush against his thumb, suddenly taking the digit into your warm mouth and swirling your tongue. his eyes dilated—chest rising and falling quickly as he watched you, his hand still cradling your face.

“fuck—such a good girl for me,” he praised. “go ahead,” he murmured, slipping his finger from your mouth. that was all you needed, your head tipping back down to his cock. your mouth watered, licking your lips before your hand reached out to grasp the base. a groan slipped past his lips as your tongue flicked out, licking his tip before taking him completely in your mouth.

you moaned around him, slowly bobbing your head up and down as you hollowed your cheeks. you were already taking him so deep—the sight of you on your knees, eyes peering up at him through your lashes, drove him crazy. one of his hands slipped to the back of your neck, applying just enough pressure to hold you there if he wanted.

chris leaned back slightly in his chair. “that’s it, angel,” he whispered. “takin’ me sooo good—ngh—like feeling me deep in here?” he says, the hand on your neck coming around to squeeze the front where his cock was bulging. his words made you wine around his cock, the tip hitting the back of your throat.

you picked up your pace then, hand pumping what couldn’t fit. chris’ head tipped back, moaning as his hips bucked—the action making you choke. “fuck ma—holy shiiit.” your eyes blinked as tears started to form, quickly spilling down your face as you continued to look up at him. the sight of his face just made you want to pleasure him more.

your other hand reached down to cup his balls, rolling them in your hand. a grunt resonated in his chest, feeling him twitch in your mouth. the pressure of your throat and the hand he held there felt so good. he tipped his head back forward, looking back down at you once more. hand coming out again to caress your cheek as he smirks down at you. “doing so—so good ma,” he moans. “fuck m’gonna cum.”

your mouth suddenly pulled off him, hand pumping quickly. “want—in my mouth, please.” you begged before returning his cock into your mouth.

“yeah? fuck—m’gonna fill your pretty mouth up baby.” he says, keeping his hand on your face as the other leaves your neck to sneak into your hair, helping you bob your head up and down. the sounds were so lewd—so wet.

his moans grew louder, hips bucking more frequently as he chased his high. “oh—fuuuck.” his balls drew tight as he spilled down your throat—hot and sticky. you moaned at the taste, happily swallowing everything he gave you.

after a moment, you pulled back, giving his cock a quick kiss before looking up at him fully and opening your mouth to show him. his hooded eyes watched you, heat coursing through his veins at your action.

the hand in your hair released you, but he still caressed your face, thumb wiping away the remaining tears.

“did so good ma—guess i gotta return the favor, hm?” he says, shuffling his pants back up before he grabbed you out from under his desk and lead you to his bed. his games being completely forgotten.

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chaosandmarigolds · 8 months ago

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Festival

based on this AMAZING ask!!

“Oi, Olls,” Simon looks down at the skinned arm and then back to the utterly unaffected five-year-old (who just took a rather nasty tumble off the slide). It was an easy back day at the county fair, which for the record he thought was a horrible idea with a five-month old yet Johnny said it would be fun for Oliver and his niece, Jane. Simon tried to get a good look at the wound, covered in dirt and pebbles, “Lad lemme-”

“Dad-dad, I got go- Janie! Wait up!” Oliver snipped in reply, pulling his arm away and trying to take off after his new friend, and he succeeded, taking off to the next ride wait line- where Jane was already standing among the groups of children and teens with the bright red balloon tied to her wrist.

Of course, he watched the boy run through the crowds and only stood to direct his gaze to Johnny as he stood up, not saying anything but trying to see past the groups to get a good look at the kids- but he could see the red balloon.

“Think the girls are havin fun?” Johnny asked, leaning onto the stroller.

To that Simon shrugged looking down to Tess, who was thankfully very much asleep amidst the loud noises, “‘m sure they are.”

“Shoppin, wine tasting annnn,” Johnny faltered as he thought, looking to the sky as Simon knelt down to fix the baby blanket. Though it was loud and the crowds were bustling it still had a sense of peace about it, small town, small fair but it was enough to make the two kids feel as if they were teleported to the best place on the planet. “An’- gah, Sarah said somethin else, can’t ‘member what though.”

“Jus gettin dolled up or somethin,” Simon mumbled under his breath and then placed a chaste kiss against the baby’s forehead before standing up to his full height, looking around for the same bright red balloon.

Only…the balloon was floating away.

It took about five strides to get from where he had been to the line where Olly and Jane were supposed to be, yet there was a stunning lack of them both.

He must have called the kid's names twice before Johnny had caught on to what was going on, yet the only thing Simon could think of doing was telling him to go get security, he asked the people if they had seen them- his voice harsh and causing the looks on the parent's face’s to pale.

He couldn’t find them.

No one seemed to even see them.

“A little boy- he’s missin his front tooth, striped shirt with a dinosaur on it.”

“I’m sorry man, that sounds like every kid I’ve seen today.”

…

“Jane,” Ollie said slowly following his friend reluctantly through the corridors of the ‘haunted house’ which they had snuck in through the back, since there was a thirteen-plus age restriction on the attraction, “Janie I reaaaalllly don’t think this is good idea.”

To that the four-year-old frowns, her pigtails swinging as she looks at him, the blue light and fog doing nothing to ease his fears, “Uncle Johnny always say we got face fears! An you said you are scared of the scary ghosts.”

“Scary is literally in name, Janie!” Ollie countered crossing his arms, “Uncle Johnny and my dad are gonna be mad.”

Jane shook her head, clawing up on the ladder to reach the main level, “Uncle Johnny doesn’t get mad at me, mum said it’s cus ‘m cute…Uncle Simon might get mad though.”

Ollie frowned from his spot, looking up at her as she began to disappear from the view, he couldn’t leave her alone, he was older than her and his dad did ask him to look over her. So, he swallowed down his fear and followed behind her, the steam and fog making it a bit hard to see for a moment before he was able to stand up again- the lights dim and red and the floor underneath them seemed to be uneasy, red liquid smeared along the rotted wood and the low groan of something was enough to make him want to cry.

However Janie was walking forward, so he quickly followed, moving to walk just a bit in front of her- grabbing her hand and doing his best to act brave when in reality he was not.

Ollie stopped walking when they heard a voice from behind, and he turned to look around for a split second, only for Jane to let out a shrill scream and he turned his head to look ahead again- to only mimic her scream. Shoving her behind himself as what seemed to be a literal monster jumped from behind a barrel.

“Oh SHIT! CUT IT!!”

A voice suddenly yelled, and then the monster ripped off the mask, revealing a normal-looking kid, probably sixteen, “Whoa-hey-hey, you guys- JERRY FUCKIN CUT THE LIGHTS.” The kid screamed at the ceiling for a moment for the overhead lights to flicker back on and the noises stopped.

“Hey,” The kid knelt down to look at the now sobbing children, “Hey, my name is Kyle. How’d ya-oh cmon…it’s okay, I’m not scary.”

“You-you ghost!” Ollie screamed.

“No! No, it’s just a costume, ya know on how on halloween you dress up? I’m jus dressing up, I’m not gonna-oh okay, you’re crying…again, okay…” Kyle tried to explain, then looking to his coworker, Margo who was dressed as a zombie, utterly hopeless about the now two screaming and sobbing toddlers.

…

“Called security,” Margo huffs out as she sits down to look at the toddlers, who were much more relaxed once they offered slushies, and she looks to Kyle, “They said two creepy guys said they lost their kids but thought they were lyin.”

Kyle frowns and leans back in his chair after he and Margo had made a lazy attempt at cleaning off their makeup and explained to the kids it seemed to calm them down, plus the slushies of course. “Hey kiddo, can you tell me your name? So the nice people-

“My dad says to not talk to strangers.”

Margo gives the kid a look and leans forward on the table, “He’s smart, that’s smart- but we need to-”

“Margo-”

“OLIVER.”

It would be an understatement to say Kyle and Margo picked those kids up within a millisecond, because what they saw were two men that could break them both in half within a second and who did not look like father material walking towards them.

“That’s my kid.” One of them barked out, pointing to the little boy, who was just happily sipping his slushy.

Kyle scoffs, “And I’m the fucking king of England.”

To that Margo tried to then play damage control, “Listen, I don’t want to have to call sec-”

“Uncle Johnny we saw scary ghost!!” The little girl exclaimed happily.

“See? That’s my niece and the boys mine. Give me my kid.”

Margo and Kyle exchanged looks and then looked to the little boy, who only caught on when he saw the man’s look and he nodded eagerly, messy hair falling in front of his face.

“That’s Ister Riley he and my mom are married. He’s my dad.”

…

“I jus wanna be brave ‘ike you Uncle Johnny,” Jane said as they drove home, still sipping her oversized slushie.

Johnny and Simon had agreed to not mention this, to act like it never happened, for their sake. “I know, princess, an’ yer so so brave.”

“I no longer scared of ghosts.” Ollie said mindlessly, staring out the window.

That caught Simon’s attention and he looked back through the rearview mirror, checking on Tess with a quick glance and then to Olliver, “Oi? Yeah?”

“Mmmhm, cause ghosts are jus nice people wearin costumes.”

(annnnyway that's it!! feedback and comments are the easiest way to let me know you liked my work!! thanks to everyone for their support!)

#simon riley imagine #simon riley fanfic #cod x you #simon riley x reader #cod fluff #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #mw2 ghost #dad!simon riley #ghost call of duty #dad simon riley #dad!ghost #coco's chaos <3 #coco’s pre k universe! <3

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muldermuse · 2 months ago

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surprising billy for halloween by dressing as a playboy bunny

he’d lose his fucking miiiiind- he thought you were just going to spend the evening watching campy horror films and maybe after a glass of red wine, he’d bend you over the couch and fuck you senseless

BUT HERE YOU ARE

STANDING IN FRONT OF HIM

wearing tight black corset, sheer tights, black stilettos and OF COURSE, a white collar and matching bunny ears (you’ve kinda diy-ed it by hot gluing a white pom pom to stick to the bottom of your corset). you know butcher likes to make a mess so you’ve covered your eyelashes with so much mascara you swear you can feel the weight of them. and finally, red lipstick so you can leave pretty kisses all over his cock xoxo

“good outfit butch? i was gonna wear it to annie and hughie’s halloween party n…”

his hand is firm around your throat, not enough to choke you fully but strong enough to tell you how tonight is going to go

“no other cunt is seeing you like this, alright? this is just for me, jus’ for your daddy” he moves his mouth to your ear, biting hard on the lobe. “repeat it”

you hiss with pain and a feel a roll of arousal course through you, “this is just for you daddy”

he slaps your ass hard as you stumble back into the bedroom

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hazbinshusk · 2 months ago

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day seven of salem's unofficial attempt at kinktober: sleepy sex (huskerdust x afab!reader)

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

You stir slowly as you feel the mattress shifts behind you, lifting your head reluctantly from Husk’s chest. His arms are banded loosely around you; the bartender is purring softly, his tail wrapped around your thigh where they’re stretched out beside his. A soft series of oinks catch your attention, banishing some of the sleep-induced confusion clinging to your brain. “Angel?”

The spider straightens from where he’s pulling off his boots, giving you a small smile over his shoulder before he turns back and bends down to dote quietly on Fat Nuggets. You smile softly as you listen to the piglet’s happy snuffling before he trots back to the pile of cushions that you’d arranged in the corner for the nights Angel is stuck late at the studio.

Angel climbs into the bed behind you, a cool rush of air making you shiver as he lifts the blankets to slip beneath them with you and Husk. “Hey, sugar. Miss me?”

“Always,” you murmur, smiling as Angel slips his arm around your middle, pressing himself up against your back. He slides another arm over to touch Husk’s hip, carding his fingers into the fur there. The bartender’s purrs double as though he can sense that his other partner has finally joined the two of you. “Is it a talk about it night?”

Angel shrugs, burying his face against your hair. The soft expanse of silky fur against your back tells you Angel has stripped down to his underwear – apparently too wiped to bother with his pyjamas – and you settle yourself back against Husk’s chest. “Did ya wear him out?”

You breathe a quiet laugh, stretching up to press a kiss to the underside of Husk’s jaw. He shifts slightly, his nose twitching. Husk turns his head to bury his face against the top of your head, and Angel smooths his hand down over the cat demon’s thigh. You feel the spider shift his face against your hair, and you can picture the way he’s bringing his nose up to brush against Husk’s.

“We were waiting for you.”

Angel coos playfully, releasing your waist to tuck hair away from your neck. “Aww, toots, ain’t you sweet?”

You can’t help but giggle as he gives your neck a teasing, biting kiss, raising your shoulder in hopes of warding him away. Angel echoes the sound, his laughter doubling as his runs a hand up to tickle against your side and you elbow him in retaliation.

“You two mind?” Husk’s sleep-rough tenor sounds in the near-dark, a red wine chord to match the bloody light staining the far wall from between the curtains. “Some of us are tryin’ to sleep.”

“Aw, Huskie, you’re up!” Angel grins, swinging a long, long leg over you and bringing himself up to straddle the bartender’s waist. The cat rolls his eyes in tired amusement, one hand coming up to smooth up over Angel’s thigh, claws dishevelling the fur. His other paw catches hold of your hand and squeezes it. Husk presses a kiss to your forehead, and while his purr has diminished now that he’s awake, you can still hear the softest of trills beneath his words.

“I am now.”

“Our girl here said you held out for me all night,” Angel tells him, running all four of his hands through Husk’s chest fluff. “Is that true?”

“Maybe I was jus’ tired.” Husk suggests, a smirk playing at the edge of his mouth.

“Well, now I’m offended,” you joke, and Husk hums sympathetically, turning his head to bring his mouth to yours. You smile into his kiss, tongue meeting his and enjoying the way he moans quietly into your mouth as Angel’s hands travel over his body. His upper hands tease at the cat’s chest and ear, the lower two scratching their nails down over his hipbones.

“Mmm…” you hum happily as Husk withdraws. “Forgiven.”

“’ppreciate it, doll.”

“Don’t let him off that easy, sugar,” Angel tells you, bending down to take Husk’s lips for himself. You watch them kiss, the way Angel arches his back and Husk leans up into the embrace making butterflies swirl in your stomach. The spider grinds down over Husk’s lap, and the other man groans into his mouth. “You won’t believe what kitty here’ll do if he thinks ya mad at him.”

“Don’t give her ideas,” Husk retorts playfully. “Don’t need the two o’ you teamin’ up on… Christ…”

Husk lets his head fall back as Angel manages to push his briefs down and wrap a delicate hand around Husk’s cock. He pumps it slowly, letting his thumb tease over the head of it with each stroke of his fist. Angel raises his hips over Husk’s, grinding his ass down against him as his hand reached the base of his cock and squeezes.

“Oh, fuck…” Husk’s paw tightens around your hand, and you roll onto your stomach to press yourself into his side. You kiss up along his throat, lingering at the corner of his jaw. “Fuuuck, baby…”

“Which one?” you murmur with a grin, leaning up to dust kisses over his cheek and muzzle. “Careful how you answer: you don’t want to offend anyone.”

Angel snickers, following your lead and bending down to press kisses over Husk’s neck. He continues lower, sliding down the other demon’s body to mark it with soft bites that leave damp marks alone his fur. “That’s more like it, toots.” he smirks, teasing warm breath over Husk’s twitching, stone-hard cock.

“You two are gonna be the second fuckin’ death of—”

Husk moans, throaty and loud, as Angel takes him deep into his mouth.

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

Watching the two of them move together is like poetry; the way Angel arches his back when Husk thrusts up to meet him, the way Husk’s large hands encircle the spider’s slender hips. Whenever you pull away from Husk’s mouth to catch your breath, you find yourself distracted by the way they look together, the soft, high-pitched little ‘ah, ah, ah’s’, Angel lets out each time he sinks back down on Husk’s cock.

Husk’s mouth teases over your neck dazedly, the rough line of his tongue making you shiver. He kisses your throat, your jaw, the shell of your ear… teeth grazing over your skin wonderfully. Angel’s holding your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. Two more of his hands are braced against Husk’s chest, the fourth playing with the fur over his hipbone.

“He’s so pretty,” you murmur admiringly as you watch Angel ride your partner, squeezing his hand affectionately.

Husk nods into your throat, breath warm against your sensitive flesh. “Both…”

“How’s he feel, Husk?” you ask quietly. “Tell me how he feels.”

Husk groans brokenly as Angel rolls his hips pointedly over his; the porn star smirks down at the two of you at his reaction. A purr rumbles through Husk’s chest, his hand finding your breast. He squeezes it, teasing your nipple with his thumb. Your breath catches at the sudden sensation. “Fuckin’ good…”

“Is that all?” Angel’s sarcasm is ruined by the way his voice shakes, and when Husk wraps his other hand around Angel’s cock, the spider moans. “Fuck, Husk…”

Husk is shaking, his tail thrashing against the sheets. You bring his mouth back to yours, kissing him in a long, languid embrace. “It’s okay, baby,” you promise him quietly, speaking against his lips. “You don’t have to hold out for me.”

“Doll…”

“Look at Angel,” you tell him. The other sinner is riding him at a disjointed, eager pace, his head falling back and his mouth open in near-silent moans. His eyes roll back when you reach up to scratch your nails through the fur of his inner thigh. “He’s so close, Husk…”

“Christ…”

“You feel so good inside him, baby,” you continue, raising your voice just enough for Angel to catch your words. “He wants to feel you cum inside, feel you fill him up…”

Angel moans, nodding desperately. “Please, Huskie…”

“Cum for us, Husk,” you urge him, and Husk whines as your breath tickles against his ear. It flicks automatically, his hips rising off the mattress to fuck himself deeper into Angel’s tight hole. “Come on, baby, let go. We want you to… I want to hear how good you two sound when you cum.”

Angel’s still pleading, repeating ‘please’ over and over again as he hunches forward, his body shuddering as he sits on the knife’s edge of an orgasm. His voice is high-pitched and reedy, his eyes heavily-lidded as he watches the two of you. “God, fuck, Husk, please… I wanna… fuuuuck…”

You kiss Husk’s muzzle, press another to the base of his ear. “Cum for us, Husk.”

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rafeyscurtainbangs · 4 months ago

Text

Please Please Please - Rafe Cameron Short Story (Part 1 of 6)

+18 Minor DNI

Older MobDealer!Rafe x Female Reader

🪄 re-uploaded because I had to make a new account.

⭐ republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

3333 words

Warnings contain spoilers: domestic assault, cheating, swearing, name-calling, gaslighting, threats, and mentions of killing partner, general violence. Every chapter after this, will have Rafe as the focal point.

📖 Loosely based on the song and music video Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter 💕

✨“Stopping in your tracks, you watch the tall blonde struggle to break free. He grits his teeth, fighting against the cuffs, his broad chest gaping at the buttons of his black button-down shirt. He looks like he’s been through it; a gashed lip, the bottom of his pressed shirt half-tucked, his hair messy and sweaty against his dewy, tanned skin.”✨

*blue font is present day

Reader’s POV:

Red wine, Tony’s favorite, Cabernet Sauvignon specifically. Tokara Telos, the first bottle of wine we shared on our very first date. Fitting for our two year anniversary. Slowly swirling the glass you watch the rich red wine cascade down the side. You look at the oven, eyeing the clock, watching a second hour pass. Nine… Dinner was set for seven. Where the hell is he? Maybe he texted me? Maybe he’s in a business meeting gone long or wrong?

Unread to read. Your heart skips a beat as you watch the three dots impatiently; Tony finally acknowledging you, letting you know where the fuck he is and what the hell he’s doing.

Nothingness.

The three dots disappear leaving behind the disappointing chain of messages.

Is he with someone else?

I hate that that’s where my mind goes first, since he’s assured me time and time again he’s faithful and I’m paranoid. It’s hard to give him the benefit of the doubt when there’s so much to doubt. Every excuse just sounds so fabricated with him, corroborated by his goons so I don’t have a leg to stand on.

Then there’s the talk around the country club… It’s just whispers, no real proof, but I swear it’s so goddamn loud. I’m rarely at the Island Club, but when I am, I can see the eyes on us. The cutting watch of women who Tony could possibly be seeing on the side; gossip shared just out of earshot. Everyones’ pity and focus always seems to be directed at me.

It’s embarrassing to feel like everyone knows my drama but me. No one opens their mouths. Ya know why? They’re scared… Scared of him. And I don’t blame ‘em. I’d be scared too.

So here I sit. Getting stood up by my boyfriend while he’s out doing god knows what, with god knows who, because he can. He can do whatever he’d like, break my heart, bruise my ego, because deep down I know there’s nothing I can do… The day I met him was the day I lost myself.

“Vlad,” you call from the kitchen, your voice bouncing off the walls of the lavish estate. “Vlad?”

“Miss?” Tony’s driver comes around the corner with a broad smile, taking in the smells of whatever lingers of the now cold pom de terre. “Smells delicious, Miss. I didn’t know you were a cook.”

“I’m not,” you sigh through a labored laugh. “Just thought I’d make what we had on our first date,” you hum, hearing the drunken slur in your own voice. Vlad cocks an eyebrow, clocking it instantly. “Umm… Dinner was supposed to be at seven,” you sough, gesturing with your glass toward the clock. “Do you know where he-”

“How was lunch with Anna?” He cuts you short, quickly changing the subject, leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“Where’s Tony,” you return, trying your best to level your wavering tone, dismissing his “pleasantries”.

“The office-”

“What office exactly?” You snip, knowing it’s the Law Firm or The Country Club. Vlad’s gaze casts to the floor. He shuffles his Italian leather boot anxiously, not as good with his “excuses” as the other men on Tony’s payroll. It’s a wordless answer nonetheless - The Country Club. “Can you take me there? I want to make sure he has some dinner. I’m assuming he’s been there all day. The meeting just went long?” You ramble, without a verbal answer from him, gathering your things to leave as the older man flounders.

"Miss…” He cautions you, taking his turn with a faltering tone, making matters worse for Tony.

“Is there an issue?” You ask as you lift an eyebrow in his direction.

“Mr. Marietta is in an important meeting. As you know, they’re not usually the safest situations, and he demands your safety. Tony expressed to me that he would be home late. Would you like me to call him and ask when he’ll be coming home?” You roll your eyes, chuckling in disbelief as you stroll past him.

“I am perfectly capable of that,” you breathe as you snag a new bottle of red wine, heading out the door.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦

The Country Club comes into sight, the gaudy neon sign flickering from a distance. The parking lot is packed, littered with cars; always jam-packed on the weekends. Kooks, Pogues, and tourists alike all brought together for their shared love of pussy.

“Park there,” you guide from the backseat as you spot Tony’s blacked-out Maybach truck parked under the streetlight. Vlad locks eyes with you through the rearview mirror.

“Would you like me to call him before you go inside, Miss?” You shake your head ‘no’ as you look out the window, drawing a deep, nervous breath before pushing out.

What am I walking into?

“Y/n?” Luis, Tony’s bodyguard and bouncer, calls from his seat outside the door. “What are you doin’ here?” He looks in all directions for watchers-on anxiously, the blood drained from his face like he’d just seen a ghost. Only a handful of people even know that Tony owns this shithole. To virtually everyone on the Island he’s just another Kook King. The Marietta to the Marietta and Klaus Law Firm. This is simply a front for something bigger, something Tony can use to wash his dirty drug money; a front. “You just missed Tony,” he lies through his gold-capped teeth.

“He’s here,” you smile as you step toward the door, grabbing the handle. Luis rests his large palm on top, looking down at you blankly. “He’s in a meeting, Miss.”

“And-” You ask as you twist the knob, but Luis doesn’t budge. “Move.”

“No.”

“Get the fuck out of my way,” you snap. Luis’s jaw tightens as he shakes his head ‘no’ standing firm. “You said he wasn’t here. Now he’s here and I can’t go in? That’s my fuckin’ boyfriend,” you hiss.

“I have orders, ma’am.”

“Orders?” You scoff.

“Orders-”

“Pussy,” you spit, turning on your heels, heading back where you came. Plan B. You pick up speed, clipping down the asphalt before he can intervene, following the line of men waiting outside, before slipping through the front door.

Your head hangs low as you walk through the dim, seedy hallway, pushing past patrons sauntering in and out of the gentlemen’s club. The main floor. I’ve never been here… The office is the farthest I’ve gone. You catch a few familiar faces from the Island Club, their eyes doubling in disbelief and shame for seeing you here and being seen themselves. Music blares as you storm toward the back; beautiful women dancing on the stage in nothing but Pleasers for the swarm of men gathered around, flicking and raining ones on the stage.

“Yes,” you gasp as you watch a stripper step out from behind the back-of-house door; catching it before it swings shut. Just a few paces and you’re there. You slide in your key and open the office door without a second thought, ripping off the bandaid.

Nothing… The office is dark, only the light of Tony’s laptop glowing in the empty post. Maybe he is gone. You step toward it, letting your heart rate settle as you circle his desk.

The corner of your lips curl into a trembling smile as you see a framed picture of the two of you on his desk. A post-it note affixed to the top with a reminder for tonight’s date.

Maybe I am paranoid… You pull out his large leather desk chair, taking a seat. Drawing a deep, needed breath, you let your shoulders fall, releasing some of your tension. It doesn’t explain why his truck is still here… Your eyes flash open, returning to the worry at hand landing on a bar napkin. Red lipstick.

Your stomach sinks as you hold the note, your eyes flicking to the laptop screen. Oh my god. Your heart shatters as you watch a blonde bounce on Tony’s lap, his lips locked on hers.

“No…”

“I know,” you sigh as you relax your head back onto the cold brick wall of Kildare County Jail, looking up at the ceiling.

“Did ya kill 'em?” The woman asks in a gruff tone as she crosses her arms over her chest, tits spilling out of her tattered, lace bralette as she snaps her gum. “S'that why you’re in here?”

“Thought about it? But no. That’s not why I’m here.” You open your heavy eyes, taking in your surroundings, contemplating all the choices that landed you here. The worst of it, ever being with him in the first place.

“So, what happened next?”

“Well…”

There’s a brief separation as Tony draws away from their kiss, staring toward the door of the Champagne Room. Luis… He must have figured it out. Tony pushes the stripper off his lap, gathering his clothes as he frantically dresses.

Here we go.

You hear the muffled bang of the first door and the gritting of his key working the lock on the second. You watch as the knob twists, light flooding the room as Tony pushes into the office coming toward you fast. Tony grabs your shoulders, and you fight him off. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me,” you snap.

“Baby, please. You gotta talk to me? What’s going on? Why are you so upset? Please just talk to me,” he pleads like he’s done before; times when I gave him the benefit of the doubt; times when I believed I could be the problem here. “We weren’t doing anything.”

“Tony!” You cry. “Are you fuckin delusional? I saw you fuckin’ that stripper with my own two eyes.”

“Princess, she was just dancing. It was a lap dance. Alright? You have to believe me.”

“Just a lap dance…” You scoff looking down at his undone belt, zipper down, dress pants pitched from his hard-on. He follows your eyes, hastily zipping and fastening his pants closed.

“I don’t know what you think you saw-”

“We’re done,” you chuckle tiredly as you step back, throwing open the side office door. Tony immediately reaches for you, clawing for your arm. “Let go of me,” you struggle.

“You’re not leavin’,” he asserts, pulling you back inside.

“I am. I’m done with you. It’s our anniversary, Tony. Look at where you are. Look at what you’re doing. How could you do this to me?”

“Do what? It was just a dance. I just got out of a major deal. Alright? I was about head home-”

“Liar!”

“Liar?” He questions. “Did you just call me a liar?” He asks as you feel the sting of his blunt fingernails digging into your arm.

“I know what I saw…”

“Princess… Even if I was lying. What the fuck are you gonna do about it. Huh? You’re mine, bitch. I own you. Where are you gonna go? What money do you have? How are you gonna afford this lifestyle you’ve become so accustomed to? Spending my hard-earned money like the gold-digging slut you are. You should be grateful,” he snarls as he steps toe-to-toe with you using his free hand to tug his leather belt from the loops of his pants.

You look up into his dark eyes as cruel words spit so readily from his wicked lips like he’s had time to prepare. I’ve seen this side of him, only once. He’s an evil man, and I know that. But this sort of cruelty has never been reserved for me. Until today. He grips his belt a little tighter in his fist making you take a few steps back but he stalks closer.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere,” he threatens.

“I am,” you whisper as you try to remain firm.

“I don’t think you understand this relationship we’ve got goin’ on, sweetheart. You go when I say you go,” he growls, tracing the belt along your bare thigh. “Do you think you’ll have a life after me? You think I’ll allow that shit.” He winds up smacking it against your skin. You gnash your teeth in pain, holding back tears, the most horrifying part knowing he could go far harder. “You know too much. You’re a liability. You have nothing. You are nothing without me. And you will be nothing without me.” Chills fall down your spine at his words and the crazed look in his eyes, his pupils blown from coke, pleasure, and rage.

“M'not scared of you.”

“You’re not. Huh? My tough girl.” He leans in; lips draw to your neck, kissing your pulse point, your rapid heartbeat calling your bluff as you inhale Cassidy’s cheap perfume lingering on his skin. You pinch your eyes shut as his large hand threads into your hair, tugging slightly while the other soothes your stinging thigh with his rough palm.

“I came from nothing, Tony. I’ll be fine.”

He scoffs as he uses his grasp on your strands to shove you away, letting the back of your head and body bang against the side door. Tony buttons up his still-undone shirt; bright red lipstick stained on the collar as well as his neck, a dark hickey forming to boot. Tears roll down your cheeks as you stand there defeated in your date night dress, your perfect makeup now streaming down your cheeks as you look into his soulless eyes.

“Fuck you, Tony.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” he chuckles as he pulls a cigarette out from behind his ear, placing it between his lips before snapping his lighter. “You leave, and I’ll find you. I own Figure 8, princess. Hell, I own this whole damn island. You better not make it too hard on me, baby doll. It’s our anniversary, after all. I’m sure you got somethin’ pretty for Daddy under that little dress of yours. I know you like it rough… but you might not make it out this time,” he laughs as he tosses his belt roughly toward his desk, the picture of the two of you clattering and shattering on the floor.

“Are you threatening me?”

“Me? Never… But if my hands are wrapped tight enough around that pretty little throat of yours and you don’t have enough juice to shout our safe word that’s on you, angel.”

“Go to hell.”

“I’ll give you a 5 minute head start, love. That seems fair?”

You grab the door and pull it open, taking a few steps before turning around again, pressing your back against the cool door, holding it shut as you look for an out. Luis is gone from his post, most likely keeping watch on the opposite end, Vlad in the parking lot, open water on the other side. There’s no way I can go back home. No family close by. No car. No escape. Looking out into the busy parking lot, you watch a squad car slow-roll through the back of the lot. Perfect.

Thank you, Luis. You reach down, snagging his Louisville Slugger perched against the weathered barstool. "Miss?” You hear his bodyguard’s frantic voice as he rounds the corner. You run into the lot as fast as your feet can take you, swerving around cars; dodging Luis.

You slam your eyes shut, swinging hard, nailing Tony’s Maybach truck, shattering the glass. The car alarm blares, echoing through the large lot. “Y/n!” Luis yells, but you swing and swing again.

“Y/n!” Tony barks from the door. You point the bat in his direction, twirling it before knocking off the wing mirror and sending it flying. A second siren fires, the sound of the police cruiser blares through the night, competing with the truck as it gets closer and closer.

You nail the glass, shards spilling into the truck as the cruiser pulls up, moving to the front of the vehicle you make your delinquency visible, quickly knocking out each headlight while the deputies climb out of their vehicle. “Get on the ground. Get on the ground now!” They holler.

“Deputy, this… this is a misunderstanding,” Tony assures as he enters the lot, softening his voice again.

“No, it’s not. And if I had a knife, I’d slash your tires, asshole.” The officers grab for you, expecting a fight, ultimately getting the latter. You cross your arms behind your back, smiling at Tony as they lock you in cuffs.

"Well, shit,” the older woman chuckles as she pulls you back to reality.

“Mhmm… but I’m a liability. After that little stunt I pulled, I know I’m living on borrowed time. Jail is the only place I could leave and be safe for the night. It’s just a band aid though; a temporary fix. I’m sure he’ll bail me out any minute, but who knows what’ll happen? I want to show him I’m not afraid.”

She purses her lips, debating whether to ask the million dollar question. “Are you?” She asks somberly.

“I wish I wasn’t-”

“L/n, someone just bailed your ass out. Let’s go,” an officer calls from outside the cell. The woman beside you taps your leg, giving you a little nod.

“He lays a finger on you, honey, I got no problem comin’ back here.”

“Thank you,” you whisper before turning toward the officer, giving her a wide, fake smile.

You rise to your feet, fixing your dress as you walk to out-processing. “To the left.”

Shupe matches your gaze from his post, giving you a wary glance. “M'am, are these your belongings?” He asks as he holds up the plastic bag of goods. You give him a soft smile and a nod. “Sure you got nothin’ you wanna tell me, Miss F/N L/N. Now’s the time,” Shupe warns. “You know, it’s Tony who posted your bail. He’s waitin’ for you outside-”

“I’m fine. Just fine, Deputy,” you assure as you fish your lipstick out from your clutch, slicking it on in the reflection of the privacy glass. “It was nothin’. Just a misunderstanding, as I said.”

“Just fine? Trashing Mr. Marietta’s Maybach truck was nothing? Just a normal night for the two of you?” He asks sarcastically.

You look at him and smile, dead-eyed and defeated. “It was our anniversary, actually.” Shupe’s eyes widen at yours, the occasion making your story even more unbelievable. “Have a great day, Deputy.”

“This is not a beauty pageant,” the female officer grunts, shooing you toward the exit.

I don’t know if I made the right choice… but I’m not gonna snitch. If I want to survive, I’m going to have to be strategic.

“I’m cooperating. Ain’t I?” You hear a deep voice echo down the hallway.

Stopping in your tracks, you watch the tall blonde struggle to break free. He grits his teeth, fighting against the cuffs, his broad chest gaping at the buttons of his black button-down shirt. He looks like he’s been through it; a gashed lip, the bottom of his pressed shirt half-tucked, his hair messy and sweaty against his dewy, tanned skin.

His eyes match yours; even from a distance, you can see how blue they are. His entire demeanor shifts, softening as a smile pulls on his pretty lips. A smile so beautiful, you can’t help but return the same.

There’s something magnetic about him, an intensity drawing your focus to him like a moth to a flame. He winks, and in that instant, everything changes. There’s no mistaking the connection swelling between you.

“Hey,” he mouths; your breath catches in your chest, pulse-quickening as time slows to a snail’s-pace. He looks at you until the last minute before being shoved inside his confinements. The metal door slams shut, jarring you from your daze, the bustle of the jail building from the solace in your mind.

Who was that?

It was momentary… a fleeting beat. The calm before the storm. You get pushed along, shoved toward the exit, and away from a sweet dream, thrown straight into a nightmare.

Part 2

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cera-writes · 5 months ago

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HII so I found your page the other day and I loveee your work😁😁. Anyhow I wanted to request if it was okay for me to ask for a story about gambit x reader angst/smut/fluff (it’s a lot I know😭🙏). And let’s say reader gets really drunk at a party and they’re making a fool out of themselves and gambit tries to help you out of the situation and the reader is being bratty in their drunken state refusing any help and it causes gambit to snap at them a bit but ends with some smut and fluff, BUT if that’s Okayy ofc🙏😁. Keep up the great work😁🤍

A/N: I love this idea! And thank you so much! I try! <3 pairing: Remy LeBeau "Gambit" x gn!Reader Tags: Swearing, intoxication, partying, fluff, angst, smut, spanking, reader has a bratty side, Remy punishes reader in all the good ways Summary: Reader is having the time of their life at a party thrown at the X-Mansion while Charles is off taking care of business. Reader gets carried away and has a little too much to drink and well, let's just say Remy is there to deal with the aftermath which eventually leads to smut~

Drunk in Love

The music pulsed through the mansion like a relentless heartbeat, the bass vibrating through your bones. Laughter, shouts, and the clinking of glasses filled the air. You were supposed to be having fun, but the world was spinning, and your vision was blurring at the edges. Each sip of alcohol seemed to send you deeper into a hazy oblivion.

It all started when you made a bet that you could outdrink Logan. You knew damn well you couldn't hold your liquor. But that didn't stop you. Morph was egging you on and hyping you up the entire time. Then, before you knew it, you were shotgunning a can of beer, which, in turn, led to the oncoming of disastrous events afterwards.

Logan, still somewhat sober after his sixth drink, smirked at you as you swayed back and forth after your third shot of whiskey. He knew he had won, but you weren't gonna take that loss by any means.

You found Charles' wine cabinet and poured a glass of Cabernet. You weren't completely drunk but damn were you feeling very tipsy.

A hand landed on your shoulder, steady and grounding. You swatted it away, giggling inanely. “Go awaaay, Remy,” you slurred, your voice a childish whine.

Remy LeBeau, your ever patient best friend, sighed. He’d been watching you for the past hour, his brow furrowed in concern. You were usually the life of the party, but now you were just a stumbling mess. “Mon cher, maybe it’s time to call it a night,” he suggested gently.

You scoffed, your laughter sounding more like a hiccup. “No, I’m fine!” you protested, your voice rising in pitch. “Best. Party. Ever!”

Remy exchanged a look with Scott, who was hovering nearby, a mixture of amusement and worry in his eyes. “Maybe we should get her home,” Scott suggested.

You turned on him, your face flushing an angry red. “I don’t need a goddamn babysitter!” you shouted, your voice echoing through the room. A few heads turned, and you felt a surge of embarrassment.

Remy’s patience was wearing thin. “Enough, mon cher,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re embarrassin' yourself.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Y-you’re e-embarrassing me,” you retorted, your voice slurring pretty badly.

A wave of anger washed over Remy. He hated seeing you like this. He hated the way the alcohol was taking control of you. He hated the way you were pushing him away. He'd always liked you of course, and just because the two of you hadn't made things official didn't mean he still didn't treat you like you were his, especially at times like this.

But seeing you dance on all the strangers at the party, giving them the attention he craved from you, struck a match in him. He wanted to be protective of you, but you were also pissing him off to no end.

"Jus' the alcohol talkin' cher. C'mon, I'll take ya home."

When he tried to reach for your arm, you snapped on instinct. You reared back and slapped him hard across the face.

The sharp crack of your hand against Remy's cheek echoed through the room, cutting through the din of the party like a knife. His eyes widened for a moment in surprise before narrowing, a flicker of something dark and dangerous passing over his features. He rubbed at his cheek, not in pain, but as if to confirm the reality of the slap. Then, he smirked, a wicked glint in his eye that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Don't touch me!" you spat, your voice thick with anger and defiance. But even as the words left your lips, a wave of regret washed over you. You hadn't meant to hit him, not really. It was the alcohol talking, fueling your actions with a boldness you didn't possess otherwise.

Remy stepped closer, his body pressing against yours, backing you up against the wall. The heat from his chest seared through your clothes, mingling with the warmth of the alcohol in your veins. Amidst the music still pulsating loudly through the room, he leaned in close to your ear. "Is dat how it's gon' be, cher?" he murmured, his voice low and husky, a challenge in every syllable.

You could practically smell the scent of whiskey and cigarette smoke lingering his lips. He'd never been quite this close to you before and it made your heart race.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. The room spun around you, the lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of color. "I-I...," you stammered, your resolve wavering under his intense gaze.

His hand slid up your arm, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. "Y'think ya can jus' hit me and walk away, cher?" he asked, his tone teasing yet threatening.

You shivered, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. "I... I didn't really mean it," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Remy leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Maybe Remy liked it," he confessed, his breath hot against your skin. "Maybe he want more."

Before you could respond, his hand moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel every inch of him, hard and demanding. "What're you doing?" you breathed, your mind racing as your body betrayed you, responding to his touch with a surge of desire.

"Showin' you what happens when you mess with me," he whispered, his lips trailing kisses down your neck. Each touch was light, almost playful, but there was an underlying intensity that made your heart race. "Don' think I ain't noticed the way you been dancin' all night."

You moaned softly, tilting your head back to give him better access. The alcohol had blurred the lines between right and wrong, making every sensation more acute, every emotion more raw. "Remy..." you pleaded, unsure of what you were asking for but desperate for more. You wanted whatever this was, desperately.

Maybe he'd had a bit to drink too, in all honesty. He just knew he had to have you, too. Right now.

He chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, sending vibrations through you. "Say my name again, cher," he demanded, his hand sliding up to cup your face. His thumb traced your bottom lip, his gaze locked heavily on yours.

"Remy," you repeated, your voice thick with need. You felt trapped, pinned against the wall by his body, but instead of fear, there was only surrender. You wanted this, wanted him, despite the chaos swirling inside you. You'd wanted this for a while, although you'd never been one to make the first move.

"Dat's right cher," he praised, his eyes darkening with satisfaction. "Now, let's see how much more you can take."

With that, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you towards the stairs. The crowd parted for both of you, whispers and stares following your progress. But you were beyond caring, lost in the haze of alcohol and Remy's commanding presence.

He kicked open the door, stepping into a dimly lit room. You'd guessed it was his. It honestly wouldn't have mattered if you two had decided to fuck in a broom closet for all you cared.

The air was cooler here, a contrast to the heat building between you. He set you down on the bed, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Ready fo' round two, cher?" he asked, his voice a seductive growl.

You nodded, your mouth dry, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Remy smiled, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Den let's begin," he said, his hands moving to unbutton your shirt.

Remy's hands were rough as they tore at your clothes, the fabric rending under his urgency. You gasped as the cool air hit your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Remy's body. His lips found your neck, pressing hot kisses that quickly turned into bites, each one sending a shock of pleasure and pain through you.

"Remy!" you hissed, your voice mingling with the sounds of your clothing being discarded. His name was a plea, a demand, a surrender all at once.

He chuckled against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. "Ya like dat, cher?" he murmured, his tongue caressing the skin at your neck to soothe the marks he'd left.

You nodded, unable to form words as his hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming. The room spun around you, the world reduced to the sensations Remy was creating.

Without warning, he flipped you over, your stomach landing on the bed as he positioned himself behind you. You felt his hand on your back, pressing you down as he whispered in your ear, "Y'need to be punished."

His words instantly sent a thrill through you, a mix of shame and excitement that pooled low in your belly. You whimpered, arching your back slightly, inviting him to continue.

His hand lifted, then came down hard on your ass, the slap echoing through the room. You cried out, the pain sharp and sudden, but beneath it, there was an undeniable rush of arousal.

"Dat's for hittin' me," Remy said, his voice thick with desire. He spanked you again, harder this time, the force making your whole body tremble.

You moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as he continued his assault, each strike more punishing than the last. The pain was intense, but it was laced with such overwhelming pleasure that you couldn't help but push back against his hand, begging for more.

"Please," you gasped, your voice raw. "More, Remy, please."

He paused, his hand resting on your reddened flesh. "Y'want more, cher? You wanna be taught a lesson?"

You nodded, your breathing erratic as you waited for his next move.

Remy chuckled, the sound dark and pleased. "Den let's see how much you can take."

With that, he slicked himself up with something you'd seen him reach for in his dresser drawer and entered you from behind, his thrusts deep and hard, each one hitting your core with unrelenting force. You screamed, the sound torn from your throat as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

"Yes, yes, yes!" you chanted, your body moving in sync with his, lost in the rhythm he had set.

Remy growled, his grip tightening on your hips as he pounded into you. "You like dis, don't you? Bein' punished by me? Such a-mm!-good lil' slut you're bein' fo' Gambit." He bit back his own moan, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

You could only moan in response, your mind too consumed by sensation to form coherent thoughts.

He reached around, his fingers finding your center, touching you in all the right ways as he continued to thrust. The dual stimulation was too much, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me, cher," Remy commanded, his voice ragged with his own need. "Show me how much you love bein' punished."

That was all it took. With a final, desperate cry, you shattered around him, your body convulsing in release as he continued to thrust, chasing his own climax.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice a mixture of awe and triumph. "S'good fo' me."

You felt him tense, then he was coming inside you, his seed filling you as his body shuddered with his release.

For a moment, there was silence, the only sound your heavy breathing and the pounding of your hearts. Then, Remy collapsed beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close.

"I think we both needed that," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

You nodded, too spent to speak. The alcohol had fueled your actions, but it was Remy who had taken control, guiding you through a night of passion and punishment that neither of you would soon forget.

#xmen #x men 97 #remy lebeau #cera writes #gambit #gambit x reader #remy lebeau x reader #gn!reader

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