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alastorthirsty · 11 hours ago

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Cum Sluts vs Zombies - Alastor x f!reader

Well, @6esiree, I wrote you a goddamn novelette. At a whopping 10.3k words, I present you with pure, unadulterated Alastor smut.

Other tags: @valerie-is-in-the-cupboard @babyfoxflower

Warnings: None, really. Oral (f receiving), scenting, p in v intercourse, rut smut.

At four in the morning, it would be obscene even by your own standards to keep playing video games. You turn off the television in your bedroom and take off your headset, feeling the little bit of perspiration in your hair from the foam. You shake it out and stand up, nudge a few energy drink cans out of the way. Your joints creak. Your eyes burn just a little bit. But goddamn if Cum Sluts vs Zombies wasn’t a helluva time.

You shake yourself off, get a glass of water, get ready for bed. You had just gotten done brushing your teeth when you heard it.

The sound of absolute chaos—glass breaking, furniture hitting the walls, thumps, thuds, more shattering glass—and then silence again. The hotel went back to its usual late night quiet.

You stand there for a moment, still holding your toothbrush, just staring at the wall you shared with your neighbour.

The Radio Demon.

Never, in all your months of living side-by-side, have you detected a single peep out of him. Not even once, let alone the (albeit quick) cacophony you had just heard.

“Huh.”

You proceed with your nighttime routine, all the little serums and creams that keep your skin looking bright and soft all the time, and then another sound.

It was a deep, resonating moan; you drop a jar of cream onto the vanity. Something weird, fucked up, and potentially dangerous was going on, but that moan, that almost pained sound…

Goddamn it.

With a sigh, you make sure you look decent-ish and walk the short distance to Alastor’s door.

Your knuckles rap upon the wood. Twice. Silence. “Alastor?”

No response. You lean closer and knock again. “Alastor? Are you all right?”

Again, no answer. You frown, but It's probably nothing. It's probably just one of the weird voodoo things that he does. You tell yourself it's probably just that and turn to head back to your room.

But that moan, it was just so…

You sigh and knock one more time. “Alastor I’m going to feel really guilty if I leave and you turn out to be dead.”

You hear a soft click. That’s it. That’s the only acknowledgment you get. No answer. No verbal response. But the knob does turn.

You take that as a sign that you’re allowed to go inside.

You walk into the bedroom slowly, looking more to the floor than anything else, knowing there’s shattered glass everywhere. It litters the floor, glistening like little diamonds in the light coming in from the hallway—but the door suddenly slams shut.

You jump about a mile, and then a hand is around your waist. One very familiar hand. It slips down to your ass and he lowers his face against the back of your neck. You can feel his lips brush against your skin.

“So you decided to see if I was still in one piece, hmm?” His voice is a low, deep rumble against your skin. The sensation gives you chills.

“I sort of had to,” you say, utterly still.

“Oh, you had to?” His tone is mocking and the hand on your ass gives a squeeze. “Couldn’t bring yourself to just go back to your little room and keep gaming until the morning hours?”

“It’s past four, even I won’t game later than that. No, I put away my controller for the night, got ready for bed, and then I heard you break everything in your room. But that’s beside the point. Why is your hand on my ass, pal?” You ask.

“Hm, is that so?” He sounds skeptical. “I was expecting you to stay up all night. And why am I touching you?” He pauses, his hand squeezing again. “I want to, isn’t that reason enough? You’ve spent too much time running away from me lately. I don’t like it. Come here.”

You dance away from him, carefully avoiding debris all around you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, there you go, avoiding me again.” He doesn’t try to come to you, though, he remains standing beside the door, watching you very closely.

You notice something weird. You notice several things that are weird. He looks…out of breath. Sweat glimmers against his skin, his normally coiffed hair is mussed, his eyes are heavy-lidded and his breaths sound raspy.

“I’m going to ask you something very straightforwardly,” you say.

He cocks his eyebrow and leans against the door. “Go on, then.” His tone is casual, but his body language is…peculiar.

His jaw cracks, a tension he never shows; you’ve never seen a smaller smile on his face.

You gesture to him, to the shattered glass and broken furniture strewn all across the dimly-lit room. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He actually falters a little at your tone, his eyes go wide, then narrow at the accusation. “Why is something wrong?”

His voice is still calm, too calm for…whatever this was.

“Okay then,” you say, clapping your palms together. “You’re alive. You’re weirder than usual and you’ve broken all the things, but I’ve satisfied the need to know you are, in fact, as alive as you were since the last time I saw you. Goodnight.”

“Don’t.” His voice is short, sharp, and has a clipped edge to it that you’ve never heard from him before. (Not that you ever much listened.) “Don’t you dare leave.”

You take a deep breath and shift your weight to your other leg. “Do you need me for some reason? What is it?”

Alastor is silent a long moment, his eyes boring into you. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, hoarse. “Lock the door.”

“That is the opposite of what I’d like to do,” you quip.

“Damn it, just do it, all right?” His voice is almost a shout. The tension is back, his clawed hands are clenched into fists, his breathing is ragged.

Oh, this just wasn’t right at all. You were not enjoying yourself the tiniest bit, not as radio static became louder and louder in the room…

You find your resolve anyway. “Alastor, you’re the one leaning against the door. If you want it locked, you lock it.”

There’s another long moment of silence.

You watch him straighten up, his fist clenched around the knob behind him. He takes a deep, shaky breath. “You’re sure you want to test my patience right now, little girl?”

His voice is soft, low, and dark. The radio pops fall silent. Everything…everything becomes silent.

“Oh.” You take a deep breath, heart picking up the pace. “You just want me to get close to you again.”

“Ah, there you go. So clever, my dear.” He takes a step forward, the movement slow and careful, strangely almost as though he’s afraid he’ll stumble if he moves too suddenly. He stops a few feet from you, just looks down at you for what feels like an eternity. Then his eyes narrow again.

“Take that jacket off.” His voice is still quiet, still hoarse, but there’s an underlying current of need that pulls the air from your lungs.

You stand there in silence for a time before shaking your head. “Nope!”

“Oh, so you’re going to be stubborn, then?” He crosses his arms, looking down at you with one eyebrow cocked, then he growls. “Either take it off or I’ll take it off for you. Don’t push me in this state, darling, I’m already at my limits.”

“At the limits of what, Alastor? What’s happening to you? Why did you break everything? Why are you all messed up? And why is it so fucking hot in here?” You throw your hands up with abandon. “Answer me.”

There’s another long stretch of silence.

His breathing is ragged and the sound is loud in the quiet room. His knuckles are strained from how hard his hands are clenched into fists now.

He closes his eyes, his head tilting back, and the sound he makes is soft, almost too quiet.

A soft groan, just low enough that you almost miss it.

…That little groan leaves you breathless, catches you in the chest, and you just look at him.

His eyes snap open, but this time they’re…different. His pupils are blown wide, and there is a desperate, hungry look to them that you’ve…definitely never seen before.

He takes a step forward, lunges at you, his hands grabbing your wrists and grasping them to his chest.

“Goddamn it, please…” His voice is soft, hoarse, and full of need.

You’re trembling, but not altogether from a place of the fear you’re meant to be feeling. “Please what?”

His eyes are still wild, desperate, and his breaths are coming in ragged gasps now. “Please, just let me touch you, darling.”

He moves closer, his hand tightening around your wrists.

The room is quiet, save for the sound of his breathing. After a few moments, you swallow and nod.

You nod, and he groans.

His hands leave your wrists, then move down your body to your hips. He pulls you against him, his hips grinding hard, insistently against you, his nose buried in the curve of your neck, and he breathes in deeply.

“Damn, you smell amazing…” He murmurs against your skin. His hands move lower, gripping your ass again, pulling you even closer.

His teeth suddenly close on the side of your throat. You’re not sure if the sound you make is due to pleasure or pain, or maybe a little bit of both, but it seems to drive him wild.

“You’re mine,” he growls against your skin. He’d never talked to you like that before. Hell, it’s possible he’s never spoken to anyone like this before. You’d never seen him lose control this way. Or…really, do anything at all like this. Or anything that suggested that he could.

His hands move to the buttons on your shirt, his fingers fumbling clumsily with them.

“Oh, hey, hey!” You say, flailing your arms for some fucking reason. “Hey! Al!”

“What?” He draws back a little, his face flushed, his eyes wild. “What is it, darling?” His voice is rough, his expression is dark, and his body seems somehow more tense.

You swallow and breathe out roughly. “What’s, ah, you know. What the hell is happening?”

Alastor makes a sharp, dismissive sound. “I can’t concentrate when you smell like that, darling.” He moves closer, leaning his forehead against your shoulder. He takes a deep breath, then groans again. His claws catch in the soft fabric spread over your belly.

“It’s like you’re teasing me, but I know you’re not, which just makes it worse…please, darling, just be patient with me for a little longer. And take your shirt off. Now.”

With shaking hands, you take off the jacket you’d thrown on before leaving your room, the one that Alastor had previously demanded that you remove. In the quiet of the room, you hear it fall onto broken glass, the little chips settling underneath it. Alastor’s muttering something that you can’t really focus on at the moment. He keeps moving, but his face remained pressed against your neck, breathing in heavily. He grows quite apparently frustrated with your lack of progress and pulls your shirt open, the buttons flying.

You feel him shiver just as you gasp.

He is utterly silent, but you can feel the way his body tenses at the sight of your bare skin.

He stops breathing. Just for a beat.

His hand is large, warm, and surprisingly gentle as it skims over your skin. His touch leaves a burning sensation in its wake. Being at his mercy like this…

His breathing is still ragged, but now yours matches his. His hands are shaking slightly; he doesn’t seem to be trying very hard to hold himself back anymore. He pushes your shirt off your shoulders, lets it fall to the floor. His hands skim up your sides, fingers trailing along your ribs slowly, his touch leaving burning lines across your skin.

What a time to remember you had not put on a bra. The room was still stiflingly hot, and Alastor’s skin felt even hotter.

He’s muttering again.

“What?” you ask.

“I said Goddamn, you’re beautiful.” His fingers trail over the curve of your hip, then lower to the little patch of skin just above the waistband of your pants.

He murmurs something that might be a curse, his body tense against yours.

“Do you have any idea how hard I have to focus to keep under control when I’m around you?” His voice is rough, full of need. You still can’t see his face. “You smell so damn good, your voice is like silk, you’re so damn beautiful, do you have any idea how tempting you are?”

All of this is new and overwhelming information. “Like, now, or in general?”

“Now specifically. Right now. I’m at my goddamn limits trying to control myself.” He finally lifts his head, his eyes a dark crimson. He looks at your exposed chest and lets out a ragged moan. “God, I need you, darling.”

You tilt your head. “So wait, this is you holding yourself back?”

“I suppose.” He leans his forehead against your shoulder again, his hands still trailing over your bare skin, one finger tracing over the shape of your nipple. “Right now you’re practically dripping with desire. I can smell it, and it’s torture for me to keep myself from just pushing you against the wall and taking you right now. You have no goddamn idea how hard I’m having to try not to do that, darling.”

“I would prefer something horizontal,” you say, and not entirely to lighten the steadily darkening mood of the conversation.

He groans, that goddamn sound, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to hurt, his body tense and shaking against yours.

“Damn you, saying things like that. You’re killing me, you know that, don’t you?”

He draws back, and you finally get a good look at him.

He looks even more wrecked up close.

His hair is mussed, his expression fierce and hungry, his eyes dark and wild. His skin is flushed, and his breathing is ragged.

“Come here,” he murmurs, one hand gripping your wrist and pulling you towards the bed.

You follow along, still trying to avoid the debris he was just pushing straight through. Nothing was stopping this guy, he was a force. He sits down on the edge of the bed—one that you swear was not there when you first came into the room—pulling you closer until you’re standing directly in front of him.

His hands move to the waistband of your pants, unbuttoning them, looking up at you.

“I need you, right now.”

“Hey!” You still his hands and squeeze them hard enough to make him cock a brow at you. “I will absolutely not be entirely naked before you’ve so much as taken off your coat!”

His expression is stunned for all of an instant; he hadn’t expected you to be bold enough to do anything like this.

Then it changes to a smirk.

“Are you ordering me, darling?”

“No!” You shake your head. “No, but I am making a strong pronouncement.”

He chuckles, a low, dark sound in the near-silent bedroom.

“Strong pronouncement, is it?”

He slowly stands, letting go of your wrists, then shrugs out of his coat. He carefully folds it and sets it aside, looking all too amused.

You tilt your head, looking up at him. “Everything in here is broken and you fold your coat? Really? You’re so weird.”

“Oh, I’m weird,” he laughs. “And just how, exactly, am I ‘weird?’”

When you look up at him, you realise just how much he towers over you. At full height, you only reach his shoulders.

He lifts a hand, skims his fingertips over your cheek, down your jawline, then under your chin and lifts your face up to his.

His eyes are dark, full of want. “Is it because I think you’re beautiful?”

You shake your head. “Nope, that’s completely normal.”

He laughs again, his hand still beneath your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Is it the fact that I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life? That’s ‘weird,’ is it, darling?”

Unlike him, your fingers don’t fumble with the buttons of his shirt. He has every opportunity to try and stop you, but he doesn’t. If anything, he maybe shifted to make it easier for you—but you couldn’t tell. Your fingers never faltered, but it didn’t stop all the screaming going on in your skull.

He’s silent as he stands there and allows you to undress him. His eyes are dark, half-lidded, but he makes no move to stop you.

He’s tense, though, you’d have to be blind not to notice it. His hands are fisted in front of him, and he’s not as relaxed as he wants you to believe.

You pop the last button and his red shirt hangs open, revealing his bare chest. The scars stand out right away, but you just push the shirt off his shoulders and then something strikes you.

You’re both half-naked with nary a kiss taking place.

Now you’re dead set on remedying this absurdity, yanking him down to your level.

A shocked gasp escapes his lips and he leans into you, his large hands gripping your hips, his mouth crushing against yours. It’s rough, and eager, and hungry, and God it’s passionate.

His tongue slides against your lower lip, and he actually whines in the back of his throat in frustration when you don’t immediately let him inside your mouth.

He kisses you again, and this time you do let him inside. His tongue presses against yours, exploring your mouth as if he was desperate (well, it’s now quite clear how desperate he really is) and trying to consume you completely.

His hands grip you harder and he pulls you against him until your body is pressed flush against his. He growls against your lips, his breath ragged, his grip on you almost painful.

He pulls back from the kiss only long enough to mutter: “Bed. Now.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You already stood at the edge of it, so you pushed him down onto it and crawled on top of him, kissing him again.

He groans, leaning his head back and allowing you to take control just this once, although his fingers dig into your hips like he wants to force you to be even closer.

His mouth slides to your jaw, kissing and biting at the skin there, his breath ragged and scalding against your skin.

“Goddamn, you’re perfect, darling.”

His hands release their grip on your hips, his fingers trailing feather-light over your exposed skin, then down so they’re gripping your thighs.

His mouth moves to your ear, his teeth closing on the lobe for a brief second before he murmurs, almost inaudibly “I want you, darling. I want to feel you. I want to touch you, to taste you, to devour you.”

He rolls you over so you’re lying on your back beneath him, his large body pinning you against the mattress, between him and the bed.

He looks down at you, dark eyes burning into yours, his ragged breaths coming faster and faster.

“I need you,” he repeats, leaning down to kiss your throat. “God, I need you so much, darling. Just the smell of you is driving me insane, even right now. I want you so goddamn badly.”

Your head is spinning. Sounds cliche, sure, but that’s the experience that you’re dealing with at the moment. His scent is affecting you heavily now that he’s on top of you and you can almost feel it all over you. You look up at him and something is slightly off. You look a little further up and gasp.

“Alastor, your antlers!”

He lifts his head and blinks, almost as if you had spoken a different tongue.

“What about them, darling?”

“They grew! They’re not little lobster claws anymore!”

He looks a little surprised, and confused, and then he reaches up, feeling one of the newly formed antlers with his fingers, as if disbelieving.

“Ah hell,” he mutters, then looks down at you again. “They only grow when I’m at my most—”

He stops himself with a sharp inhale. “Damn it, I knew I was close, I just didn’t realise how close.”

“What?” you ask. “What is the center of this goddamn mystery, Alastor? This is beginning to feel like a mystery box, like if David Lynch tried his hand at an erotic radio show set in 1930.”

He laughs, still sounding ragged, and a little strained. “It’s not a mystery, darling, although I do enjoy how curious and eager you are about this. They grow when I’m near my rut.”

“Let’s just say I understand fully what that is. You mean it whatever the hell this is hasn’t even fully hit yet?”

“No, not yet, but it’s damn close.” He looks down at you, and you can see the heat in his eyes, the look that’s almost pleading with you to help him find some sort of relief from this. “I’m going to get very desperate, very soon.”

You nod a few times. “Okay. I’ll get you through it.”

“It will be a hell of a ride, darling,” He looks down at you, his eyes dark. “Are you sure you understand what you’re getting yourself into?”

“Not even a little bit,” you say with a smile, shaking your head.

He laughs again, but this time it’s a low, dark sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “That’s all right, darling. I’ll do all the hard work, you just have to let loose and let me take care of you.”

You hold up a finger. “That’s doable—if.”

He cocks an eyebrow, looking faintly amused. “If? What exactly are your conditions, darling?”

You look him dead in the eye. “I want to touch one of your fluffy, fluffy ears.”

A laugh bursts out of him, and he leans his head back. “That’s it? You’re willing to put up with my ruts for one touch of my ear?”

You wink at him. “They just look so fun to touch and I’ve always wanted to.”

He laughs again, then shakes his head, a smile on his face. “All right, darling, you can touch them as much as you like. Just remember that when you’re screaming my name later.”

“Are they sensitive? Will it hurt you?”

“They’re sensitive, yes, but I trust that you won’t hurt me.” He gives you a smirk. “Or is that what you want? You want to make me beg?”

You gently trace your fingertip from the base of his ear to the tippy-top. “This can make you beg?”

He shudders, his eyes fluttering open and closed, his hips grinding against yours. “God, yes.” His voice is raw, and ragged, and needy, and you’ve barely touched him.

“What about your antlers?”

“You want to touch those, too?” he asks, still shuddering.

You touch the base of his ear again. “Do I have your consent?”

“Yes, darling, you do, but—” He’s cut off by a moan as your fingers trace down the base of his ear, making his eyes flutter shut again.

“But?”

His eyes are half-lidded again, dark with need. “They’re sensitive in a very animalistic kind of way, darling, that’s the best description I can give.”

“Okay, now I have to,” you say, and very, very gently trace your fingertip along the new points that had grown.

Another shiver runs through his body, and he groans. Then, he looks down at you, and his eyes are blown wide. He looks absolutely feral.

“Darling, I love the way you touch me,” he murmurs. “But if you keep it up, I won’t have a damn bit of self-control when my rut fully hits.”

You chuckle softly. “Decisions, decisions.”

He growls, low and needy, and you realise that he’s just barely holding it in.

“Darling,” his voice is strained, and he takes deep, ragged breaths, “just remember, when we begin I will not hold back.”

He kisses you again, and his body is tense, his hands gripping your hips so hard it almost hurts.

“I’ll take good care of you, darling,” he murmurs between kisses. “But I’m going to be rough. I want to hear you moan my name, I want to hear you cry, I want to hear you beg. Do you understand?”

“Promise?” you ask, breath coming a bit more quickly.

He groans again, his hips grinding against yours. “God, you’re so goddamn perfect. You have no idea what it does to me when you speak to me like that. And yes, darling, I swear it, I’ll take good care of you.”

He kisses you again, and his hands move to your waist again, sliding down your stomach and lower than that, one hand pushing your legs apart.

Damn it, your pants were still on. “Hang on, Al, help me just…”

He pauses for a moment, then grabs the waistband of your pants and yanks them down past your hips, pulling them off your legs and throwing them somewhere into the room.

“That seems about right,” you say, then trace your finger along his ear again.

His eyes flutter shut, his breath still ragged. “You’re going to drive me insane, darling,” He murmurs, his hand sliding further up your thigh.

You wink at him as his fingers move higher and higher.

He chuckles dryly, his fingers skimming over your skin.

“So bold, darling." He kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. “So willing. Have you ever been touched like this before, darling?”

“Well…” Your breath hitches. “Not since I arrived in hell, for sure. It’s hard for me to remember before.”

“Hard to remember?” He laughs. You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and ragged, his fingers sliding even further up your thigh. “Don’t worry, darling,” he murmurs. “I’ll make you remember.”

He kisses you again, hard and eager and needy, pushing your legs apart. He kisses your jaw, then your neck, then lower, until he’s between your legs.

He kisses your stomach, kisses your hipbone, and then looks up at you, dark eyes burning into yours, his voice soft and eager. “Are you ready, darling?”

“F-fuck yes,” you whisper.

He laughs, low and dark, his thumbs stroking your inner thighs. “Then I’m going to make you scream.”

He kisses your inner thighs, and God, it feels so good, but you can feel his antlers brushing against your skin every time he moves. It’s a completely different sensation of having something hard and sharp-tipped rubbing against you, and it’s incredible.

He kisses every inch of skin he can, but he takes his time, teasing you. His fingers grip your thighs like he doesn’t want you to pull away, but his mouth never goes any further than that until finally he looks up at you again, his eyes still dark.

“I’m going to taste you now, darling. Are you ready?”

Oh, God. This was really happening. It wasn’t a dream. You think over all the little moments that led you here, his body on top of yours. You touch one of his antlers and nod, biting your lip.

He kisses your stomach again, so close, his breath ragged and hot against your skin.

“I want you to say it,” he murmurs against your skin. “Say that you want me to taste you, darling.” His hands grip your thighs again. “Say it, darling. Just a few more words and I’ll give you what you want. I don’t want you to hold anything back, so just tell me what you want.”

Your cheeks heat up and you look up at the ceiling, arms coming up to cover your eyes. All he can hear is muttering.

He laughs and you feel his warm breath against your skin. “You’re not listening, darling. I said I want to hear you.”

Ah, fuck. He was really going to make you say words, huh? Okay, fine, fine.

“Al, I want you to eat my pussy.”

He laughs. “Now, was that so hard, darling?” You feel his breath against you, teasingly close. “Now we can begin.”

He kisses your inner thigh again, his hands still gripping your legs, holding you in place. “I’ve been waiting for this a very long time, darling,” He murmurs against your skin. “I’m going to enjoy every inch of you.”

You almost snap. “You what?”

Alastor laughs. “I’ve been wanting you like this for quite a while, darling.” He kisses your thighs again, still keeping his hands where they are, holding you down, keeping you in place for him.

“Just the sight of you drives me crazy, and you’re so damn perfect, but like this? Oh, you’re absolutely gorgeous. I’m going to devour you, darling.”

You pant there for a moment as he moves, hand trailing through his hair“Well, I’ll be damned.”

He chuckles, a sound so unfamiliar in its familiarity. “Such an impatient little thing you are,” He kisses up your inner thigh, his nose nuzzling against it. “I’m taking my time.”

Your thigh tenses pleasurably, but he doesn’t allow them to close even a centimetre. “Alastor…”

“Just relax, darling, let me take care of you.” He has you bend your knees and wraps his arm around your thigh, gripping tight, squeezing just to make you squirm.

It’s his fingers that touch you first, grazing through your slick with a bit of a dark chuckle against your thigh, the cocky son of a bi—

Alastor slides two blunted fingertips inside you and there’s no resistance whatsoever. His fingers curl just right, making you cry out. You gasp and cover your mouth though.

“Darling, don’t you dare try to hold those beautiful sounds back,” he growls against your skin, and you can feel his breath, hot against you. “I want to hear every single sound you make.”

You’re trying your hardest not to squirm and failing miserably. “But I don’t want to disturb anybody!”

He laughs, still against your skin. “Darling, I don’t think anybody is here to mind.”

He does something with his fingers, making you moan despite your best attempts not to. “Besides, I don’t mind if they hear you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

The way he’s crooking his fingers so fucking casually, like it’s not got you shaking in his bed…

You freeze and then tremble when his tongue, hot and wet, perfectly complements that fucking crooking gesture. It’s like he has a roadmap of your fucking body and how to make you come in minutes flat.

And he takes damn good advantage of it. He’s clearly been paying attention to what you like, his fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony to make you writhe and gasp for him.

And it’s getting damn difficult to keep those sounds contained when he’s driving you mad like this.

“Make noise for me, darling,” he murmurs against your skin. “I promise, I don’t mind if someone hears you. Hell, I want them to hear you. I want everyone to hear how good you feel, how you moan for me.”

“Goddamn, Alastor, I can’t, I can’t—“

He laughs again, and goddamn, the vibrations against your skin makes you shiver. “Yes, you can, darling, you can do everything I want you to do.”

He pauses for a moment, then adds: “And I want you to say my name, darling, I want you to moan it.”

You groan, thighs trembling around his head. Points of his antlers constantly brush over your skin, your thighs, your belly, but never painfully. Each time it did, you could hear, feel him gasp and groan against your pussy. His lips circle your clit and he sucks gently.

You can hear his ragged breaths against you, his mouth working faster, more eager, his hands gripping tighter, but still staying in control, at least for now.

“Say my name, darling,” he murmurs between little flicks of his tongue. “Say my name and don’t hold back.”

“Oh, fuck fuck fuck, goddamn! Alastor, fuck!”

He laughs again, and it’s more of a dark purr this time.

“That’s it, darling, moan my name, that’s what I want to hear,” he growls against your skin, his teeth grazing your hipbone. “ Let everyone know whose name you moan, let them know who makes you feel this good.”

His mouth moves, kissing the inside of your thighs, his hands still keeping a tight grip on you, holding you steady for him. “Say it again, darling,” he murmurs. “Moan my name for me, and say you belong to me.”

You would say just about anything at all at the moment, but that, that stuck in your pleasure-addled brain, compounded by another come-hither movement on your g-spot. “Alastor…I belong to you.”

A low, dark sound escapes his mouth at that, and you realise that he’s struggling more than you thought. It’s clearly all he can do not to throw you down and fuck you like he knows you need him to.

“Again, darling,” he murmurs, lips fluttering against your clit. “Again. Tell me again, say that you’re mine.”

The sensations were new. You truly could not remember if you had done this in your previous life, but you were damn certain this is the best you’ve ever had. In this moment, you’ll do or say all the little nothings he wants to hear. “I’m yours, yours, I’m whatever the fuck you want!”

He groans again, and the sound vibrates against you, making you shiver.

“Again, darling. Say it again, keep saying it, I want to hear you say it. Keep saying that you belong to me."

There’s a need to his voice, an edge of desperation. He wants to hear it, needs to hear it, needs to know that you belong to him, and he will keep begging for you to prove it if he has to.

Your hips rise to meet his mouth. It’s all you can do not to grab ahold of both antlers and hang on for dear life. Both of you are lucky you still have any blood flow to your brain at all. Telling yourself that you’re compromising, you grab his hair again. “Yours, yours, all yours…”

You can hear his breath hitch, you can feel how he’s fighting to wait for the main course.

“Not good enough.” His voice is dark, desperate, hungry. “Say it again, darling, say it again, and say it correctly. I want to hear you say it. I want you to moan for me, and tell me that you’re mine."

You can feel his ragged breathing against you, and you can feel how strong his grip is on you, as if he thinks you’ll pull away.

You do your best to focus. You give it the old college try. Taking a deep breath, you grab him by the antler to make him look at you.

“Alastor, I will tell you exactly what you want to hear. Nod if you understand me so far.”

He blinks, but nods, his eyes still dark, still hungry, still watching you.

“You are wrist-deep in my pussy. Got me all over your face. You’re about to go into a rut. I belong to you. I’ll always be yours, and yours alone. Better?”

He looks stunned for a moment, and then he laughs, and the sound is a dark, low, hungry growl.

“Oh, darling,” he murmurs, his voice dark and eager. “That is far better. Just what I wanted to hear. You’re learning, darling.”

You nod, satisfied and momentarily relieved, thinking this part as all behind you now. “I’m learning!”

“Yes, you are,” He murmurs. “I might have to reward you, darling, you’re so good at listening.”

You’re just about to ask him how when he drags a deep, long gasp out of you, his lips coming around your clit again, his fingers stroking you inside—

It was an all-out attack on your senses, but he wasn’t even trying to drag it out any longer. Maybe he was getting impatient too, or maybe you’d finally sung enough of his goddamn praises to appease him for a fucking moment—

Oh, the sounds he’s making are downright vulgar. The slurp of his lips, the squelch of his fingers, probably in any other context would be horrific, but just for now they translate to a tightness in your body that grows and grows and grows—

Until it snaps.

All that screaming he wanted crashed against the walls of the hotel room, and you could hear that smug, arrogant prick give a breathy laugh, could feel it even as his fingers kept working you. Your thighs try their damndest to close, but Alastor, having none of that, keeps them wrenched open. You’re grabbing onto both antlers but he is not letting up for one goddamn second.

You can feel him grin against you. He’s so damn proud of himself. But he’s not finished with you, not yet.

“So, just so we’re clear, you’re mine, all mine?”

Your body shakes all over. “Yes yes yes yes!”

He laughs, his laughter dark and eager.

“That sounded so good, darling. I want to hear you tell me that again. Will you say it for me?”

“I-I…Al…I…” Could the man not understand that words were impossible with his lips still brushing against your poor, overstimulated clit?

He laughs becomes deeper, darker, then he places an almost-mocking kiss to your bud. “That won’t do, darling. I want you to say those words for me. I want to hear you moan them, loud and clear, say that you’re mine.”

Problem was, in your current state that was almost literally impossible. “Ffffuck, I…”

Alastor hums amusedly. “That still isn’t good enough, but it’s a damn good start. Now, say it, darling, say that you’re mine. Say that you’ll always be mine.”

It takes everything, absolutely everything in you not to break. Was that his goal? Well, probably, yes, to some extent it had to be. Why was he making you say all these meaningless things? Torture, right?

“A-Alastor, whatever you want. I’m y-yours, I-I-I…fucking Jesus hellfire, I’ll be yours forever, I promise!”

He smirks against your skin. “That’s perfect, darling, just what I wanted to hear. You’re doing so good for me. Just say one more thing for me, before we continue, and then I’ll give you your reward.”

“What?” you sob.

“Good, good girl. I’m almost tempted to tease you and keep you begging for me, just to hear your voice, your beautiful voice, say all those perfect things. Almost tempted. But don’t worry, my darling, I’m not nearly that patient, and I want to hear you moan. Can you do that for me, darling? Can you scream for me?”

Your mind despairs of the unfairness of the situation. You shiver and twitch as he still won’t let up. “I fucking am, Alastor! What more do you want from me?? Please, Alastor, please…”

He laughs, and god the sound against your skin feels amazing. Too amazing. You were still doing all you could to appease him.

He pauses, finally halting all contact with your aching flesh. He takes the hand that was between your legs and licks your juices from his fingers.

It’s a sight that makes your heart pound and a shiver run through you. His dark eyes meet yours again, and his voice is a low, dark growl. “You taste heavenly, darling.”

Your laugh comes breathily. “Why thank you.”

Another dark chuckle. The hand he used to touch you is still wet, and he licks it again, deliberately making sure that you’re watching. “Truly delectable, darling.”

“Here,” you say, pulling him down. “Show me.”

He gives an amused huff, but lets you pull him down. His mouth captures yours, and this kiss is deep, hungry, and you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

He moans against you, a deep, dark, hungry sound, and you feel his hands moving to your hips again. He pulls you towards him, until you can feel how hard he is against you.

“Are you ready, darling?”

Your cheeks heat up again, as if this man hadn’t been mauling your pussy for the last half hour. You smile, but cover your eyes before you nod.

“Oh no no no, no hiding your eyes, darling,” He murmurs, gently pulling your hands away from your eyes.

He kisses you again, and when he finally moves, lifting you, you feel how damn strong he is, how he’s able to lift you like you weigh nothing.

“What am I to do?”

Alastor laughs, and the sound is dark and eager. “You’ll see. For now, just keep your eyes open for me. I want you to look in my eyes when I take you.”

“Okay,” you say, letting him put your head on the pillows, “I’ll stay put and keep my eyes peeled.”

He kisses you again, a slow, lingering kiss that ends with a bit of a bite, and you feel another growl against your lips.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, “a very good girl. I need you to stay just like that, darling. Just relax, and let me take care of you. Can you do that for me?”

You give him a soft, almost affectionate smirk and reach up to gently play with his ear. “I think I’m up for that, yeah.”

He growls again, and you can feel his hunger from it. “Damn you, darling, you shouldn’t sound so damn sexy when you say that, you’re only making this harder.”

Your eyes meet again. There’s a dark hunger in his eyes, a need. “You’re so damn beautiful. You are going to be so very mine. All mine. No one else will ever get to see you this way, or I’ll kill them. I want you to remember that, darling, remember that you’re mine. Never forget.”

You nod, smiling up at him, and give him a wink for good measure. “Sure, Al. I’ll remember.”

Alastor seems to accept your assurance, at least momentarily. He wrenches your legs apart again and slots himself comfortably between them.

When he nudges your legs apart again, you’re more than aware of how big he is. Even through his clothes, you can feel him, and that shiver runs through your entire body.

“That’s a good girl,” He murmurs, “I want you to say that again, darling. I want to hear you say it again. Say that you belong to me."

You smile up at him, affectionately rolling your eyes, whilst reaching between you to unbuckle his belt. Time for the natural progression of things. You can feel how taut his nerves have become and think it’s almost sweet, how he managed to put you ahead of himself for a while. That deserves sweet nothings.

“I know, big guy,” you say. “I know I belong to you.”

He laughs wickedly and there’s an edge of relief to the sound. Your words have clearly helped somehow, as if they’ve soothed him in some way.

His mouth meets yours, but this one is rougher, almost desperate. You feel his hands grip your thighs, hard enough to make you whimper again against his mouth.

“Al!” You protest when you part.

He laughs again, and this time the relief is more obvious, almost as if he’s been holding back so much that your words are allowing himself a little more freedom, a little more room to breathe.

“I know,” he murmurs, his voice rough and eager, “I know I’m being too rough, I’m sorry darling, but I really want you. I’ve been holding back for so long, holding myself back. It’s getting damn hard to keep control, harder every second."

“Well, now’s the time for pants to come off and for things to commence,” you tell him.

Alastor lets out another huff and there’s a note of disbelief in it this time.

“God damn you, you’re perfect. You’re perfect.”

His mouth is rough again when it meets yours, rough and hungrier and desperate. His hands are on your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin, almost tight enough to bruise.

His tongue forces its way between your lips, and this kiss is rough, almost possessive.

Alastor’s trousers are finally kicked away and he’s between your legs again, rubbing through your slick as if to catch it—that’s a good thing, too, because it feels absolutely massive. You don’t want to make yourself seem like a (possibly) inexperienced little virgin so you don’t say anything, but you sure as hell feel it.

He leans over you, his mouth hovering over your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Oh, darling,” he murmurs, “you feel perfect. So damn perfect. Say you’re mine. Tell me I’m the only one allowed to touch you, say it.”

There’s a note of hunger in his voice, a note of almost desperation. He knows that he’s lost control, that he’s barely holding himself together, but he doesn’t care.

You push his hair out of his eyes. The words come easily now, old hand. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

He moans again, the sound sending a shiver up your spine, and pulls away just a little, looking you in the eye.

“Thank you, darling,” He murmurs, his voice rough. “Thank you for saying that.”

Immediately after he spoke those words, you could feel the thick heat of him force its way into your tight cunt. It burns somewhat in the way that it stretches you, but you also know that the height of your arousal is making it easier for the both of you. You look up at Alastor and see a look of concentration paired with relief paired with animalistic hunger.

Oh, dear.

He moans again, and you can hear just how much effort it takes for him to keep control, to not buck his hips.

You get a good grip on his hair as he bottoms out in you. Doesn’t hurt a bit. You hear the whine trapped in the back of his throat and your knees squeeze ever-slightly around his hips.

He growls, the muscles in his neck taut, every muscle and tendon visible in his neck, and his hands dig into the sheets beside you, shredding them and perhaps the top of the mattress as well.

“You’re mine,” He repeats, his voice low and dark. “You have no idea of ownership yet, but you’ll learn. Your soul may not be mine, but that changes nothing. Nothing, do you understand me? Now say it, darling, say that you belong solely to me, say I’m the only one that gets to touch you like this. Say it.” His voice is getting rougher, more desperate, with the slightest bit of threat that made you tremble with pleasure. That’s okay, you’ll unpack that later.

For some reason, you touch his face, your hand cupping his cheek. You could swear he leaned into it, just a bit. “You’re the only one. You’re it.”

Alastor’s eyes slide almost closed, as if you’re comforting him, as if your touch is what he needs.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, “that’s good, darling, that’s very good. Say it again, say that I’m the only one, say I'm the only one that gets to touch you like this, the only one that gets to make you feel like this, I'm the only one.”

Your eyes close and immediately his clawed hand grips your chin, forcing your eyes open.

Alastor slams in and out of you. “I warned you not to look away from me.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you cry.

His thrusting is rough, hard, as if he’s trying to prove a point, as if he’s trying to force you to remember that he’s in control, that he’s the one that gets to decide, that he’s the one that gets to make you moan.

“That’s better, darling. I need you to look at me, I need to see those pretty eyes of yours, I need to know that you understand. Promise me you’ll make me stop if I hurt you. Can you do that, darling? Can you promise?”

His cautious words bring a smile to your face. “Promise.”

He growls again, and he looks so damn sexy doing it.

“Good, that’s good, darling. I don’t want to hurt you, I have to be careful. It’ll be difficult, because I’m so damn hungry for you, but I need you to promise me you’ll make me stop if I get too rough, I don’t want to hurt you, I want to take care of you."

“I’ll give your left antler a big tug if it starts to hurt,” you say.

“Good, good, very good. That’s a plan, my darling. Now just keep looking at me, no hiding those pretty eyes."

You stare up into his eyes, soft focus. It takes more effort than you thought that it would, especially with him pounding into you—but it wasn’t hurting. He seems to know you on a sexual level, somehow, seems to know what makes your toes curl. He pushes your thighs further apart with one of his knees so he could get deeper.

“That’s a good little darling, that’s good. Don’t look away, don’t dare look away, I want you to always look right at me. I need to see those pretty eyes of yours, I need to know you’re looking at me, I need to know that you understand. Understand?”

“Yes, yes Alastor, I understand—oh, Christ, what are you doing to me?”

He chuckles, a low rumble. “I want to make you scream, darling, that’s all I want. I need you to scream. You look so perfect right now, and I need to hear you scream for me."

You change your grip on him as he gets deeper and deeper, making you feel so full. Alastor moves faster and there’s something, some magical configuration of pace, force, and position, that starts dragging those screams right out of you.

“That’s it,” he growls. “That’s perfect, perfect. Say my name, darling, go ahead and say it. Tell me what your body is feeling, tell me what I’m making you feel."

At this point you couldn’t give a fuck who heard. “Fuck, Alastor, you fuck me so good…”

Your walls flutter around his cock before clenching and it makes him grunt, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Good, that’s good, say it again, louder this time, let me hear you," he growls, as if he’s desperate to hear the words, "make me believe it, darling."

It’s hard to breathe in the heat of the room, the heat of him. It’s even harder, somehow, to keep your eyes open. You’ve no idea why, but the urge to close your eyes and hang onto him consumes you. You don’t, however, not wanting to upset him, not when he looks so fucking good.

You’d known, had it whispered to you by Angel long ago, how the Radio Demon…eschewed any kind of intimacy, emotional or physical. Seeing him like this, huffing on top of you, his cock dragging deliciously against your g-spot (he really had a knack for finding it and abusing the hell out of that knowledge), this was absolutely priceless. Precious to you, even. His antlers grew more pointed and as tempted you were to touch them, you didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. He was giving you pleasure, not pain.

He’s panting, and his eyes are dark and eager, his muscles taut, every muscles in his neck visible. He’s clearly holding back. He’s holding himself back, stopping himself from moving harder, or faster.

He’s waiting for your voice.

“Darling,” he almost growls, “say it. Say what I’m doing to you. Say it.”

You bite his lower lip experimentally, giving no verbal response (yet).

He groans, and his eyes slide almost closed.

“Fuck,” he swears. “Don’t tease me like that, darling, I’m trying to hold myself back. But then you keep making little noises and doing that stuff, and it’s making it hard, darling."

“You know, it’s really nice of you to try to keep things…you know, not painful for me. Can I ask why?” you ask.

His reply is somewhat impatient. “Because you’re my damn mate. Now tell me how I’m making you feel.”

That response makes you falter, but you try your best to talk anyway. “Alastor, you make me feel so full of you. You’re making it hard to think or even breathe.”

“Good,” he says, “that’s good, I want to make you feel like that, I want to take your breath away."

His hands grip your thighs, hard enough to probably leave bruises, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are dark and eager.

“Say more,” he snarls, “tell me more, tell me everything you feel, tell me everything you’re thinking, tell me all of it."

You rub the base of his ear. “How about you tell me, for once?”

He groans, and his eyes slide almost closed again.

“Goddamn it, darling,” he mutters, "you’re making this difficult. It’s hard enough trying to hold back already, but then you have to do all this little things, touching my ears, whispering in my ear, making me want to lose control.”

“Okay, fair enough, I won’t touch your fluffy, fluffy ear, but tell me anyway.”

He laughs, and it’s dark and eager. “You’re making me lose my mind, darling. Your touch, your voice, the way you smell, the way you taste, the way you sound, everything, all of it is perfect."

“What does it feel like to fuck me?” You pause. “How does it feel to fuck your mate?”

He pauses and he seems to shiver faintly.

“Goddamn, that’s a hell of a question," he mutters. "It’s almost overwhelming. It’s like there’s something inside me that needs this, that needs, this, needs you. I don’t know how to explain it better, but it’s never felt like this before. I’ve never felt this before, never felt like this, like, like I’m whole."

“Alastor…”

He looks at you, his pupils blown. “Yes, darling?"

You want to say something, but words aren’t coming. You kiss him instead.

He moans into your mouth, his eyes sliding almost closed, and you can feel him almost tremble against you, as if he’s in ecstasy, as if he’s overwhelmed by this.

“Damn it, darling, don’t tease me like that," he mumbles against your lips.

“How can it be teasing when you’re currently inside me?”

He lets out a sound that’s almost a whine, his hands still gripping your thighs.

“Because you’re making me want even more, darling,” he murmurs, “you don’t even know what you’re doing to me right now. Keep going, please."

He moans again, and it’s almost desperate.

“Kiss me again, darling, please," He half-pleads, "please, I need more, more, I need you to kiss me."

You don’t hesitate, gripping his hair to pull him down, his lips crashing down against yours.

He moans deep and desperate, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, kissing you deeply and hungrily. His hands are still gripping your thighs, so tight that it’s leaving bruises on you.

You don’t care about the bruises. There’s something about kissing him that’s making the already great sex even more intense, to the point you’re practically whimpering underneath him. He does a kind of turn and you break the kiss to scream.

He groans, his eyes almost shut. “Goddamn, that’s good, darling, that’s perfect. Say my name like that again."

“Alastor, please, I’m not sure how much more I can take…”

“Well, you will,” he snaps. “You’re mine, darling, and you’re going to take what I give to you, what I do to you, because you belong to me, and I can do whatever I want with you. I want to hear my name from your pretty lips, and I want to hear my name moaned by your perfect voice."

He reaches between you, blunting a fingertip to rub at your clit. Miraculously, it’s not over-sensitised anymore, but it does speed things along—it also makes you vocal.

Very vocal.

Every filthy word you’ve ever even thought comes flying out from your lips.

He laughs, and the laughter is dark and eager.

“Fuck.” Alastor’s eyes half-close, "I love hearing those pretty noises from you, darling. I love hearing those sweet, beautiful sounds you make for me, I love knowing that I’m the one that makes you make them, I love knowing that I’m the one that makes you moan. Say my name again, say it again, and I’ll make you come harder than you ever have.”

You whimper softly. “Alastor, please, I can’t hold on, I can’t.”

He laughs, and his eyes slowly open, looking right into yours.

“Say it again. Say my name again, I need to hear you say my name again, I need to hear you moan it, I need to hear you whimper it, I need to hear it, I need that perfect voice to moan my name one more damn time."

Your body starts to shake and it’s damn near impossible to keep your eyes on his, but you definitely don’t want to deal with the consequences of your eyes closing again. Every little flick of his finger sends sparks through your whole body.

“Fuck, Alastor, goddamn it, please.”

He moans, and his eyes slide almost closed at those words.

“There we go, that’s a good darling, I want you to scream my name. I want you to scream and moan my name, I want to hear you, I want to know that you’re mine, I want you to say that you’re mine, I want to know that you know that you belong to me—“

“Alastor!” You begin to shout his name, over and over again.

He chuckles darkly, and you can feel the vibrations of it, feel it rumble through his chest.

“There we go, that’s exactly what I wanted, exactly what I wanted. You’re being so good, darling, so good, don’t stop now. Say it again, don’t stop saying it. Don’t stop saying my name, say it again for me, do it again and I’ll make you come, I’ll make you come so hard that you forget your own damn name, darling, say my name again and I promise that I’ll make you come so hard that you forget everything but my name, say it again, say my name again, don’t stop, never stop saying my name, say it, say it, say it say it please say just say my name, say my name, say, my fucking name!”

His fingers flick against your clit even faster, his cock presses against your g-spot ruthlessly.

You shout his name like a reverent mantra, fuelled by the heat in your belly.

“Good girl,” he says in a hoarse voice. His pace quickens and you can tell he’s just as close as you as you are. “Good girl, so good.”

Your thighs squeeze around his hips when you finally, finally come, pussy fluttering around his cock as he pounds you hard. Alastor kisses you, hard, as he chases after you. His hips soon still and his head drops down to your chest, breathing heavily.

You stroke his hair for a few moments, until your thighs stop trembling.

You hadn’t considered what would happen afterward. Well, you hadn’t actually considered any of this when you came to his room at all. What a bizarre turn of events. You don’t even know what time it is, how long that went on.

One thing you do know, or have at least gathered from various forms of media in hell, is that men want you to leave. When Alastor carefully gets onto his side, you silently slip out of bed—

Or you try to, anyway.

“What in the world do you think you’re doing?” Alastor asks, a hint of anger and smidge of threat in his voice.

“I was, uh, just find my clothes,” you say.

“Those won’t be necessary,” he says sharply, jerking you back and pulling you flush against his body.

A few tense moments pass before he speaks again, clearly quite pissed.

“Why would you try to leave me?” he asks. “Didn’t I say you’re mine? Didn’t you say you’re mine? Didn’t you agree you belong to me? Didn’t you repeat it again and again? You had plenty of opportunities to deny me, darling. Didn’t I tell you that you are my mate? How dare you?”

“I didn’t—I don’t—I didn’t think—“

“That’s right, you didn’t think,” he says sharply, wrapping his arms securely around you. “I made it very clear that you are mine. Why did you try to leave?”

“To be honest, I thought that was meaningless sex talk!”

Alastor huffs. “Well, it wasn’t. You’re mine. You’re never to leave me again, am I understood?”

“But Alastor—“

“You will not deny me!”

“Okay, okay,” you say, your cheeks rather warm. “Okay, I’m yours. I won’t leave.”

“You will not even leave this room until after this goddamned rut finally goes away, and even then you’re on a short leash.”

“Eventually I’ll get hungry!”

Now he looks very pissed. “Do you believe I can’t or won’t provide for you?”

Your eyebrows leap. “Alastor, really, I’m not trying to offend you. I just don’t know what to do. Help me out here.”

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” he snaps. “You’re going to stay here, with me, not with Charlie’s nonsense and not playing video games. You will be attentive to me and I will be the one providing you with meals and anything else that you and the fawns need.”

“Fawns?”

He tsks and makes a dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry about that.”

“I feel like I should worry about that,” you say.

Alastor squeezes you in his arms, his eyes closing. “Shut up.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself as he nuzzles against you, probably scenting, you realise. Thank God you were up late enough to hear everything in his room explode, to hear the pained moans of a man settling into a rut. Thank God for Cum Sluts vs Zombies.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x reader smut #first fic of the fandom!

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cosmicalily · 1 day ago

Text

"written by the aces" - a mini series by @cosmicalily. view series masterlist, and outline here

7. "going home" | kim seungmin x fem!reader

Fuck anyone who says they doubt you, I love everything about you, you know, even all of the the things you say you don’t like, nothing I don’t like. I love that you never pretend with me, even from the start you taught me to be, nothing but me

author's note: oh lovesick kim seungmin, you'll always be my weakness

warnings: seungmin has some implied insecurities (not discussed)

“What are we even here for?” Seungmin asked, feigning annoyance as you roamed aimlessly through the aisles of the supermarket.

“I don’t remember,” you replied, wandering into the haircare aisle.

Seungmin huffed, although you didn’t miss the soft smile on his lips before he did so. “That’s why I told you to write a list or something, baby, you always forget.”

When Seungmin had introduced you to his friends, they’d been expecting someone scholarly, quiet and well-organised; essentially, a second Seungmin. “Did you meet her in the library?” Hyunjin had teased. “No, in the stationary section looking at notebooks!” Jeongin had snorted.

However, when you proved to be almost as chaotic, if not more, than Han Jisung himself, they’d been surprised, albeit happily. You couldn’t be more different from Seungmin; you were very physically affectionate, and had no troubles expressing your emotions through words. You were forgetful, yet refused to take actions to prevent it. You were sporadic and inconsistent, planning things last minute and taking your boyfriend on adventures on a whim. It had taken Seungmin time to get used to you when you first met as friends, but he soon found himself drawn to your confidence and chaos. You were a bit all over the place, yes, but you were his, and you found he helped contain the unhelpful aspects of your personality, such as struggles to focus and just generally get shit done, whilst you brought out the louder, gigglier side of him.

“Oh well,” you chuckled and shrugged, pulling out bottles of shampoo and examining the labels closely. “Ooh, this one’s on sale, Seung! Maybe I should try it, your big sister told me it was really good.”

Seungmin took the bottle out of your hand and placed it back on the shelf. “No,” he said stubbornly.

“Excuse me, Kim Seungmin?” You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms across your chest. “I think I’m allowed to select my own shampoo brand.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t smell the same, stupid. I like the one you use now. It’s nice.” He pulled you close and shoved his face into your hair to prove his point, and you giggled and smacked his arm lightly.

“What a sappy baby,” you tsked, pinching his cheek and grabbing two bottles of your usual shampoo and conditioner.

“Is that everything?”

“I just want to look around, Seung, then I’ll remember,” you pushed the trolley happily, skipping a little.

“Baby, we’ve been looking around for like twenty minutes. It’s gonna get dark soon, and it’s already snowing outside.” Seungmin gestured out the big windows, where flecks of snow drifted through the wind, dusting the cars parked outside, including yours, like icing sugar.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you huffed, picking up your two bottles and returning your trolley, and he shook his head. You squealed as he scooped you up, staggering along to the cashier.

He deposited you, paid for your items, then ran outside, almost slipping on the icy tarmac.

“It’s so pretty,” you gasped, squeaking as a snowflake landed on your nose and another melted down your cheek. “It’s very cold, though. Can we get inside, Seung?”

He nodded and opened the car, and you bundled yourself into the passenger seat, shivering as he turned the heater on.

“Dramatic, much,” he chuckled fondly, starting the engine.

“Shut up, I’m so cold,” you hissed through your teeth, blowing on your hands. “Hey, stop that, turn the car off.”

“That’ll turn the heater off,” Seungmin stated.

“I don’t care.”

“Where the fuck is your logic, baby?” Seungmin laughed.

You shook your head and dragged yourself over the console, planting yourself onto his lap. His cheeks flushed a little and he took the keys out, his arms moving to your waist automatically.

“You’re really warm, Seung,” you mumbled into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re always so warm, like, you just make me feel so cosy and soft and fluffy and gross.”

“Gross? Excuse me?”

“In a good way. I feel so sappy and lovey-dovey when I’m with you. I disgust myself. If I saw a couple acting like this in public, I’d be like, ew, that’s so weird, but I love acting like that with you. It doesn’t feel cliche or weird. It feels right.”

“Oh, baby.”

“Shush. You’re gonna make me blush.”

Seungmin lifted your head off his shoulder. “You already are, idiot.”

You slapped his cheek lightly. “Fuck off. It’s your turn to be overly sappy with your feelings now, Seung.”

Seungmin took a deep breath. “When I first got with you, all the guys were so surprised, because you’re so different to me. And when they were surprised, it made me nervous, because I trust them so much, though you better not tell them that, or they won’t shut up about it. Then Chan told me he hadn’t seen me act so carefree, so happy around anyone like this in a long, long time. He said he thought you were so good for me, you brought out parts of me he missed seeing.”

You stared into his eyes, biting back a smile.

“And it’s true. I’ve never really felt this happy around anyone before. I worry less, and when I worry, it's less about myself. Because I know you don’t care about the things I worry about myself; like my appearance, or my personality. You just love me. And I’ve never been loved like that before.”

“You went way sappier than I did, loverboy,” you giggled, but pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I love you so much, and it makes me happy that I make you as happy as you make me. You’re mine, yeah, Seung?”

“Always,” Seungmin pressed his nose to yours, then wrapped his arms around you tighter.

You sat, in the front seat of your car, in the supermarket parking lot, bodies entwined.

Sure, you should be getting home, but you weren’t in a rush.

Wherever he was, he was your home.

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blueishspace · 2 days ago

Text

Hero, Villain, God 7

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's pov*

You are in your Poultryman form, in the middle of the night, jumping across buildings. You could fly but it's exciting to travel like this, a bit more thrilling, and It's not like a fall like this is going to kill a god like you.

Along the way you do stop a bunch of crime, Poultryman would be a pretty bad vigilante persona if you didn't, nothing big though... ...Until the building on your left explodes out of nowhere!

The first thought in your mind is something akin to "yay! Explosion", It's part of being the god of chaos.

Your second thought is "explosions don't usually happen in mortal cities...something is very wrong", that's part of being a vigilante and that is the thing you decide to focus on right now.

You fly closer to the burning building, It's hard at first to not relish in the chaos and smoke but you force yourself to press foward. There are people inside, you can feel them calling out... it almost sounds like prayer... you fly in and you grab them and bring them out one by one. Soon you find aren't the only one helping, someone else is here grabbing people and flying out. Golden wings and a western aesthetic, this must be-

"Hello Sheriff."

"Poultryman, didn't expect to see you all the way here pardner"

You try to ignore the man of clear british descent attempts at a western american accent... You still cringe behind the mask.

"Oh you know, saw an explosion and just had to check it out"

He looks at you, it hard to gauge the emotion from the expression but you don't need divinity to hear the mental debate going on in his brain.

"... Good job on that by the way, we managed to get everyone out with no casualties... I...don't know if I could have managed that alone"

Huh, very different from HotGuy this one, you appreciate the compliment but it's weird to get it from a hero so high up in the rankings... You check him mind and it doesn't seem to be a trap which is ...even weirder. You are a vigilante after all and his job is to capture you, a compliment to lower your defenses should have been one of the first things to try... Perhaps he knows already it wouldn't work.

You look back to him, he turns to the burning building... You smirk.

"Are you saying that I'm ...better then you?".

What follows is ...silence, then the Sheriff turns so quickly.

Then sputtering.

"WHAT!? No! You just ...arrived earlier. That's it."

"Nah, I think It's just because I'm better"

"How.dare.you? I am the Sheriff, I am the law, you will respect me."

"Nuh huh"

"You can't just-"

You get up when he tries to lunge at you.

"Missed! Too bad"

"Gosh! I can't believe I thanked you!"

He shouts at you, he doesn't actually sound nad though. He's enjoying himself too... It is much more fun this way.

"I know, an horrible decision on your part really"

"Well then I'm taking back my compliments"

*Gasp* How could he do something so heinous to you? The great Poultryman! This will not stand!

"No! You can't do that! No take backsies!"

"Too bad, Poultryman you are no longer thanked"

"Noooooo! How could you Sheriff? So cruel of you!"

You both look at eachother and begin laughing, some of the people you have rescued look at the two of you like you have grown a second head ... You do check you didn't do that accidentally, revealing your godhood by growing an appendage like that would have been at the very least embarassing.

Suddenly a feminine voice, must be the Ocean queen, speaks up.

"Sheriff, I'm glad everyone is out of the building and you're having fun but did it have to be the vigilante we have to capture?"

Oh right, you forgot about that. Well time to take your leave.

"Right... About that... I might need to do a rain check on that! Bye!"

And you are gone. Thinking about it later, that building just going boom like that was pretty suspicious.

Yeetit @/yeetoryeet33

My office building exploded lmao and Poultryman started bantering with Sheriff. I am starting to think I was drugged.

💬1 ❤️3 🔄1

|Uhhhhh @/Wowzers3809What do you mean your office building exploded!?!?

OceanQueen ☑️ @/AnarmyofAxolotls No, Sheriff is not romantically persuing a Vigilante, all and any bantering that happened was non-romantic, please stop flooding my buisness email with questions about my coworkers sex lives.

💬1M ❤️27M 🔄 12M

| Sheriff ☑️ @/Canarywthagun Yes, I would never do that to my dear friend HotGuy. ||Hotguy☑️ @/HGofficial. Sheriff WHY must you do this to me? |||OceanQueen ☑️ @/AnarmyofAxolotls Sheriff you nincompoop, do you want to create a PR nightmare?

Tdfyh @/randombullshitgo

Sooo, am I the only one to get siblings vibes from Poultryman and Sheriff?

💬12K ❤️34K 🔄 20K

|OceanQueen ☑️ @/AnarmyofAxolotls Back off Sheriff is my brother, Poultryman can get his own. || Tdfyh @/randombullshitgo What do you mean he's your brother!?! |||OceanQueen ☑️ @/AnarmyofAxolotls ... I shouldn't have said that.

Bluish @/blueishspace

After recent revelations I have made these:

💬1K ❤️2K 🔄 1.3K

|Bluish @/blueishspace. Yes, I have no life. How did you know?

#trafficblr #traffic smp #hermitblr #hermitcraft #grian #watcher grian #goodtimeswithscar #jimmy solidarity #lizzie ldshadowlady #Hero villain god au #empires smp season 2 #empiresblr #empires smp #empires s1

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thefeastandthefast · 12 days ago

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 墨雨云间 | The Double (TV 2024) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Characters: Princess Wanning | Zhao Jing, Prince Cheng | Zhao Sheng, Emperor Hongxiao of Yan | Zhao Ye Additional Tags: Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Not A Fix-It, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Murder, Abortion Summary:

She is there but by his grace, and won’t be allowed to forget it.

She will pay. But not yet— she has escaped the grave and returned reckless. She is so hungry, convinced of her invincibility, a ghost who has nothing to lose and everything to devour.

#the double #墨雨云间 #cdrama #princess wanning #my fic #not sure anyone will want to read this #nothing good happens and there is no catharsis #nothing gets fixed #I barely like this drama #but I wrote it and it exists #perhaps it's my way of working through anguish about the state of the world #by spending time inside the psychotic head of my latest favorite fictional chaos demon #and indulging the fuck out of my love for the purplest of prose

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devil-in-hiding · 3 months ago

Text

On The Run Part 1

The Barn

mdni

cw: violent behavior, suggestive themes, i will get better at this i swear

It’s a downpour tonight. The roof overhead rattles with the force of the winds outside, keeping you awake. Your eyes drift towards the window periodically, watching the lightening illuminate the night sky, thunder rolling closer and closer as the wind hails. Your four loyal, massive Tibetan Mastiffs lay around your bed, dead to the storm raging outside. You’d normally have them out in the barn, but with how terrible it’s coming down you would have felt terrible.

But now you lie awake, worry in the pit of your stomach. Some of the goats had just given birth, and with this storm you knew the kids had to be distressed, and their bleats often agitated the horses.

You absentmindedly reach down to run a hand through Dixon’s fur, who lets out a pleased huff, nuzzling your palm. You try to let the beat of rain lure you to sleep, eyes finally feeling heavy as your breathing evens out.

But then you hear it, over the raging of the storm you can still hear your stallion, Sebastian, neighing, and then the pound of his hoofs against his stalls, and you're flying out of your bed.

Nothing spooks your stallion, absolutely nothing.

You race down the stairs in just your nightgown, rushing to pull on your boots, no socks, as Dixon, Grimes, Judy and Maggie come bounding after you. You throw open the door, the screen slamming against the house from the wind but you pay no mind, running towards the barn, barely catching yourself from slipping in the mud.

The closer you get, the louder you can hear all your herd. Your hearts pounding harder than the rain when you reach the barn doors, and you can hear the dogs barking behind you as you reach to yank open the double doors

Locked.

Your barn is never locked.

From the inside.

“Hello?!” You yell, slamming your palms against the wood, guilt wracking your body when you hear something scurry away on the other side.

“What are you doing in there?” You scream, shaking the handles with all your might, but they hold strong, and after a harsh yank, your hand slips, sending you flying into the mud.

You can hear what can only be described as chaos in the barn, and tears prick your eyes as you crawl forward, banging your fists against the doors.

“PLEASE! Please don’t hurt my animals! They’re already scared! Please- AH!” You scream as the door flies open, sending you face first into the barn floor.

You barely register the blood dripping from your hands as you scramble to stand up, taking in the scene.

The mares were going wild, bucking and kicking the doors of their stalls while Sebastian raged, having busted his door down, prancing infront of his ladies protectively.

Your goats were huddled in a group on the corner, the kids tucked between their bodies and the sheep standing in front of them, shaking so badly their wool was trembling. The rest of the stock is scattered, hiding in various corners of the barn.

You whistle, which immediately catches Sebastian’s attention, huffing and puffing.

“I’m here! It’s okay, ma is here!” You hush them, slowly walking towards the stallion with your hand out, palm up.

He neighs, tossing his head, leaning down to sniff your hand, when he stops, and suddenly a new sound reaches your ears.

Dixon and Grimes are growling out a warning.

Before you can even blink, there’s a hand over your mouth. Your gasp is muffled at the pressure of cold steel at your neck, an arm wrapping around your chest pulling you into a firm, solid figure.

“Not. A. Sound.” A gruff voice barks in your ear, and your blood runs cold.

“Lock the doors back.” The man orders, and a sinking feeling overcomes you when you hear a new set of footsteps. You stumble as you’re jerked back, Dixon barking as you start to thrash, kicking your feet, but the grip around you tightens.

“Fuckin- Knock it off!” He growls, pressing what you can only guess is your carving knife painfully against your throat and Grimes lets out a guttural sounding bark before lunging, only to yelp when a foot shoves him back, and you thrash harder, attempting to nip at this man’s hand.

“Stop you little fuckin-SHIT!” He bellows as your teeth sink into his palm, not releasing until you taste his blood splash over your teeth, and then you’re on the ground.

“Little bitch!”

“Don’t touch my fucking animals.” You spit, turning to stare up at the intruder, just to be met with a ski mask and cold eyes. You can’t help but freeze, the carving knife glinting in the low light of the barn.

He’s quick, and you try to stumble to your feet, but you're once more in his grasp. You go for a punch, but he catches your wrist easily, pinning your arm behind your back with one hand and yanking your forward with the other, pinning you against him, and the knife is at your throat again.

“Let’s try this again.” He says between clenched teeth, tightening his grip till you whimper.

“Ghost. Lighten up.” A voice pipes up, raspy and stern with a commanding tone. The masked man, Ghost, rolls his eyes, but loosens the hold he has on your wrist.

“Who else lives here?” He questions, and it feels as though a bucket of cold water has been dumped over you.

“No one…” You whisper, squeezing your eyes shut when his grip tightens once more. “Don’t bullshit us. Who else lives on this land with you?!” He’s in your face, making you open your eyes, tears blurring your vision.

“It’s just me I swear!” You sob, feeling the tip of the knife digging into your skin. “I swear to god it’s just me, you can go check the house-“

The pressure of the knife is gone, and the shock of your bare knees hitting the barn floors barely phases you as Dixon and Grimes dart to your side, whining softly as they nudge your hands with their heads.

“Think she’s telling the truth?” A new voice speaks up, a thick Scottish accent ringing in your ears as you try to put distance between you and the four, you are finally able to count, men standing in the middle of your barn.

“Explains the massive mutts.” Ghost grunts, glancing at the four mastiffs, who you push behind you, shielding them, trying not to let your fear show more than it already has.

“They aren’t mutts.” You hiss, Judy nuzzling her giant head into your back as you shuffle them back, away from these men.

You hold your head high, but your lip can’t help but tremble when all their eyes turn to you.

“You sure there’s no one else in that great big house?” The older man with scruffy facial hair asks with a tilt of his head, and a spark of agitation flares in your chest. Why did they want to know so badly? if they were going to…

If they were going to kill you, surely they would have done it by now, right?

“I swear on my life.” You plead, voice cracking. You’re horrified when you realize your nightgown has been soaked through this whole time, noticing the way the one with the mohawk, the Scot, keeps eyeing your bosom. You look away, cheeks burning as fresh tears prick your eyes.

“Soap, Gaz. You two go check the house. Report back to me, I want a moment with her.” The unnamed man ordered.

Mohawk and a dark skinned man nodded, heading out of the barn. Ghost passes one of them the carving knife, and your fist curl in your lap.

“What do I do Price?” Ghost asks, and the man, Price, waves a hand, eyes trained on you. “Search the surrounding area, look for anyone hiding on the property.”

“Understood.”

And then you were alone. The barn has settled, most of your animals having made their way to the farthest wall behind you. He approaches you slowly, cautiously eyeing Dixon who raises up, baring his teeth, but you click your tongue, and he steps back immediately, sitting at your side like a statue as the others guard the flock.

You feel a puff of air breath against your head, and you can’t help the wet laugh that bubbles out when you realize Sebastian is standing guard over you.

“Seems you’ve got yourself quite the protection.”

He muses, eyes bouncing between the animals.

“They were abandoned when I found this place.” You confess, a slight tremble to your voice as you watch Price crouch in front of you. He’s quiet for a moment, eyes flickering over your form and you wrap your arms around your middle.

“If my men are walking into a trap, whoever is there will be killed.” He says simply, tone almost bored and you feel your face pale.

“They’re not! This is my land! Mine!” You insist, frustrated tears falling freely as you flex your fingers, muscles tense.

“Tiny little bird like you, all by herself?” Ghost scoffs as he returns, and you feel your ears burn.

“What did you find?” Price asks him over his shoulders.

“Can hardly see shit in this rain but I found no one. There’s a truck around back but the engine seems shot.” He shrugs, eyes peering at you through that ski mask and you avert your gaze.

The doors open against, the other two rushing in, soaked to the bone.

“The house is clear sir. Only one room looks lived in, two guest rooms down the hall on the upper level and a small library on the ground level. Gaz found a shotgun by the front door.” The Scot, Soap, you gather, reports back to Price.

“I told you. It’s just me out here.” You mutter, and this time Ghost is crouching in front of you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.

“You hiding from something little bird?” He asks, cocking his head to the side

“You’re the ones breaking into my barn and scaring my animals!” You snap, trying to get out of his grip, but he only holds tighter.

“You’re a little fighter aren’t you?” You see his eyes crinkle, and you're shocked this man even knows how to smile under that mask.

He releases you, standing up and stepping back to stand with the other three men, who still loom over you. You feel like a lamb being sent to the slaughter house, and you bury one of your hands in Dixon’s thick fur to ground yourself.

“Please-“ You start, voice shaking, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek.

“I don’t have much, there’s maybe three thousand dollars in the safe in my closet. I’ll give you the code just…” Your voice trails off, a sob slipping past your lips and Dixon whines, low and sad as he places his giant head in your lap.

“Please don’t hurt us. D-don’t hurt my animals- I won’t even call the cops, it would take the nearest deputy three hours to even reach my house.” You beg, exhaustion and nerves taking over as your shoulders slump, trembling with your quiet sobs.

You see Price’s boots approach you, and he tilts your chin up, and you flinch when he brushes a tear away with his thumb.

“Stop all these tears pretty. We don’t want to hurt you or your little farm.” He coos down at you. Confusion swirls in your head, making you dizzy as another sob can’t help but slip out, Price cupping your cheeks, shushing you softly as he wipes your cheeks.

“I don’t understand…” You whisper, searching this strange, terrifying man’s face for any sign of deceit, but he just grins at you.

“You told us the truth. Very good.” It sounds almost like praise the way he whispers it to you, and you whimper, shame filling your stomach. You look away from him, taking a shuddering breath as you struggle to compose yourself.

“Let’s get you back inside hm? Can’t have you catching a cold.” He tsks, and before you can argue, you’re being lifted into his arms, tucked against his chest. You try to struggle, but the adrenaline has worn off, confusion left in its wake as these strange men usher the herd into their correct pens, Soap barley escaping one of the Roosters pecking at him in defiance, before pausing.

“I don’t think I want to mess with this guy.” Gaz mutters, the three of them staring at Sebastian, who stares back, as though daring them to try and corral him.

“He.. He’ll go back in his stall once it’s quiet… You scared them…” You mutter, tired as you give in, resting your head against the strong chest you’re pressed against, and you feel Price’s grip tighten.

“You’re freezing sweetheart, let’s get you out of these wet clothes.” He murmers, and your heart skips.

“I can do that myself.” You hiss, staring up at him with narrowed eyes, despite the fact you can feel your cheeks burning.

He just laughs.

#call of duty #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty smut #tf 141 x reader #poly 141 x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #gaz x reader #x reader #cod smut #on the run

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mickyschumacher · 3 months ago

Text

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐎 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after a long awaited summer break, you were expecting to have a good sleep in with carlos, but his plans for you are slightly different. or in which you convince carlos' to turn his morning cardio into something a little more fun.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), unprotected sex (if you're gonna slip, slop, slap, you must wrap your willy!), few untranslated spanish words, p in v, teasing, oral sex, kinda fluffy, poor humour, breastplay, dryhumping (bc i am nothing without this), fingering, cumming inside, bit of overstimulation for the reader, i love you's.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!carlos sainz x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: while this wasn't what i initially was working on, i've momentarily gotten some free time amongst the chaos, you deserve some work, and carlos has been looking pretty delectable 🤭 // poorly proof-read sorry ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

You weren't a fan of working out. Never had been and was never going to be.

It wasn't that you didn't see the point of it. You were well versed in the science: it was good for you. It helped your body, soothed you mentally, and overall, kept you in a pretty good mood if you kept the right balance.

Your problem lied within the methods.

Take your dear boyfriend, for example.

Carlos loved working out. You weren't sure whether it was because he was an F1 driver or whether it was just Carlos himself. But he spent almost every living moment off the tracks with some form of physical activity.

You had memorised his routine quite well: a lengthy morning run, training with his personal trainer, his beloved choices of golf or paddle, followed by the occasional swimming or God forbid, another run.

Carlos tried to get you 'hooked' on to it all, claiming it's better to workout with someone as opposed being by yourself. But his efforts were to no avail.

You had important things to do... like catching up on your beauty sleep.

"Mi amor," The rasp of Carlos' voice lingered through the early morning air, cold hands trailing over your back. He pressed his lips at the silent response, watching you not a budge even a centimetre in your sleep.

A sigh escaped his mouth as he pressed his knees onto the edge of your bed, bending down to push your hair behind your ears. "Cariño," He called softly, making you hum in response.

"Carlos," you mumbled with sleep heavy in your voice. "You better not ask–"

"Come on a run with me," Carlos pleaded.

You forced an eye open, wincing at the immediate white light surrounding you. Blinking rapidly, you honed in on the Spaniard who was already dressed for his venture, batting his brown puppy eyes towards you.

"Handsome, you know I love you very much," you cooed, pressing your head further into the warmth of your pillow, "But I'd rather watch Lewis go to Ferrari."

An abrupt slice of cold air trickled past your bare skin and thin clothes. You yelped, covering your body, immediately missing the comforting heat of your duvet. "Carlos!" You scolded, much more awake now.

Carlos gave you a sickly sweet smile. "Say unwarranted things, get unwarranted things," He shrugged nonchalantly before grabbing your ankle to drag you off the mattress.

"No, no, no, no," you groaned, squirming in his grip. Pouting your lips, you quickly reached over to grab Carlos' hand. "Please," you whined.

"My sweet girl," Carlos started, "I just want you to join me. I promise you it'll be good. It's fun morning cardio!"

You grimaced at the chirpy tone he had taken on. 'Fun morning cardio'... how insufferable.

Feeling Carlos loosen his grip, you yanked your ankle back and got on your knees, sinking down on the soft mattress. "Carlos," You murmured, hands travelling up his arms as you leaned in.

Carlos narrowed his eyes, quickly knowing you were up to something with that sweet tone of yours.

"Baby, name the better cardio. A morning run or..." You trailed off, hand travelling down his arm and past his thigh, resting dangerously close to his crotch. "... morning fun?"

Carlos let out a dramatic sigh but he couldn't keep the quirk of his lips at bay. He stretched out his thick arm, grabbing you by the waist. His skin swarmed with heat as he felt your bare waist under your shirt as he fully pulled you over him. A quick nudge to your knees left you straddling him.

"More energy burnt," you murmured in the venture of a fake persuasion even though you already had the answer. Carlos' hand reached out to push your hair behind your ears before landing on the soft pillows of your lips. Nervously you inhaled, "And a whole lot more pleasure."

You stared at Carlos. Taking in those puppy brown eyes, the warmth of his skin, those God-made eyelashes, and each little freckle mixed with the burden of racing on his face. It was the first day of summer break and even though Carlos was pulling you out of bed to work out in the morning, you couldn't help but be a little thankful. You missed him. You had both been so busy lately and it felt like you hadn't seen each other in months.

"What's on your mind, cariño?" Carlos whispered, thumb still trailing the shape of your lips as those very same brown eyes searched yours.

"Nothing. I just missed you. And your stupid morning cardio," You rolled your eyes. "Is that a crime?"

"Then I'm guilty as charged," Carlos confessed, not missing the softening of your eyes as he held you tighter against him. "All I've been thinking about since the race at home is coming back to you."

Carlos' home race in Spain was the last time you had met before long-distance had embedded it's nasty claws into you once again

"Yeah?" You whispered, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. "Anything in particular?"

Carlos took a deep breath in, your signature fragrance engulfing him. Goodness, were you intoxicating. "Well... there was picnics, breakfast, golf, and the beach on the agenda. And... morning fun."

A gasp left your mouth as Carlos fell back first onto the mattress, bringing his lips to yours.

This kiss was different from the others you had shared. Perhaps it was the atmosphere or context that accounted for that difference but the need, the love, the softness, and the brutal passion was suddenly pouring into every fibre of your being.

Your hands fell around his neck and hair, nose gliding near his as Carlos continued to ravage your mouth. He sucked on your lips with a small nibble here and there, relishing the muffled moans escaping your lips. His own hands continued to travel the path of your body he had committed to memory. He knew as he traversed your burning skin exactly where the small freckles and bumps he had come to love were.

Your soft moans became more audible and pleasing to Carlos' ears as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving the sloppily yet controlled kisses down base of your skin.

You gasped as you felt a sudden jerk underneath you, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding down onto Carlos' bulge.

"Ah, mierda," Carlos cursed, feeling his cock throb in his shorts. His eyes fluttered shut, hands returning to your hips to continue the stimulating pleasure.

Both of your skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you felt Carlos' clothed cock rut into your poorly covered pussy. You rocked your hips harder into him, feeling a slight jolt against your clit. "Oh, fuck, Carlos," you moaned his name in his ear.

God, what were you two? Sex-crazed teenagers? Dry humping on each other like rabbits in heat.

"Hermosa," Carlos panted, eyebrows strained with the urge to cum yet give you all the pleasure he could. "I need... I need..." he breathed, "I need to be in you, fuck." His entire body shuddered with a sharp arousal while his cock could feeling your thin underwear becoming useless and drenched. It was as thin as his patience was wearing.

You made a poor attempt to nod, releasing a hand from his neck. You briefly lifted your hips, pushing your panties to the side. In doing so, your breath hitches as you feel your sensitive folds glide past your fingers.

"Oh, fuck," Carlos blubbered, losing himself in seeing your bare pussy and your reaction. "Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me, baby. I need you ready for me," He encouraged breathlessly, attempting to shove off his shorts with one hand.

Carlos watched in torture as you pushed your fingers into your warm walls, body jerking forward at the sheer pleasure. "That's it, baby," he continued to praise you, "Doing so well for me, hmm?" He asked, moving one hand down your hips, skimming past your burning thigh before reaching the small bundle of nerves situated near your hand.

"A little faster, baby," Carlos said, "You're already so fucking wet. Pump those fingers... let me see how much you missed me."

You were already moaning in a haze at the praises leaving his lips, pushing your fingers in faster, unable to see how your engorged folds took them in as your eyes focused on the ceiling. But the moment you felt the pad of Carlos' thumb on your clit, you had given up every ounce of respect you had for yourself.

"Oh, shit, oh shit," you cursed, hips bucking up at his action. Your eyes shut tightly. The white light of ecstasy felt close. Your hand sped up faster, your hips went against your fingers and his thump with a more brutal force, feeling his aching cock bounce under you... Christ, you were going to cum. And hard.

The light... so close...

And just like that, it was gone.

You snapped your eyes open, falling to your pussy to see Carlos' hand retreating. "Mierda... no, baby, Carlos, " you cursed without looking at his face. But the moment you did, you understood him.

His hooded eyes told you everything. The throbbing his aching cock was bringing him, his slurred state of mind, and his firm desire to make you cum on his cock.

You kept your eyes on him, savouring the hiss falling from his lips as your took his cock out of his underwear. You gave a small smile, guiding his angry member to your puffy folds. You both released hitched moans when you rubbed your pussy against his cock.

You watched as Carlos purposely lifted his hips, pushing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your body convulse for a brief second. Fucking hell. That was enough for the both of you. Cumming just by rubbing yourselves on each other was equally as worse as cumming by dry humping each other.

You pressed your lips together, pushing his cock slowly into your pussy. Christ, he was always so big. Thick and pulsing in your hands, stretching your pussy out no matter how many times you made love as if it were the first time.

Carlos groaned, both hands firmly placed on your hips, head falling back onto the bed headboard. God, it had been so long. He missed your touch everyday. But the feeling of his cock in your pussy... he thought about it every second of every day.

You pushed your hips down flat, ensuring Carlos bottomed out. You groaned at the full feeling of his cock in you, eyeing the small bulge in your stomach. "Fuck, you fill me up so well, baby," you praised.

Carlos moaned in response. "Ride me baby. You know I like when you ride me."

You managed a smile, taking off the singlet you had slept in. The self control Carlos had for your breasts was little. Especially, when they bounced in front of him like they were right now. His hands almost immediately shot out, groping the soft mounds with all his might.

Immersed in your tits, his body trembled when you rose your hips and slammed down on his cock, repeating the movement again. "Ah, shit," Carlos cussed, drunk on your pussy.

You ground your hips forward as you rode his cock, stimulating the pure pleasure of grinding on one another. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Carlos' hand reach towards your clit. Your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what's about to come.

Carlos intently watched you, rubbing your clit in soft circles. He could see you slowly fall apart, the fast rhythm of your hips slowing down and becoming sporadic. Your body was shaking with pleasure, your hands reaching towards his thick biceps.

He continued your work for you, lifting your hips with his one hand on your waist. He grunted, feeling you clench around his cock. "Cum... cum for me," he beckoned, increasing the speed of his cock and the pressure of his thumb on your clit.

He smiled at the complete lost look that had fallen on your face. Your body jerked and convulsed over him, your brain unable to control it any longer. Your climax hit you hard as he denied your previous one not too long ago. Your whine was high pitched and dazed. You were completely lost in pleasure.

Your pleasure only fuelled his own. Your walls were holding his cock like a vice, clamping down on him. You could feel his throbbing cock overstimulating your sensitive pussy.

Carlos groaned at the feel of his twitching cock in your walls. He panted, hips racing to chase the urge to cum. "Yes, yes, yes," he mumbled, falling victim to your praises falling from your soft lips and the clench of your pussy.

You both groaned when you felt the hot ropes of his cum spill into your walls. HIs hips stuttered, faltering against yours as you took every last drop from his cock.

Carlos buried his chin into your neck, riding out his last few moments of his climax. "Fuck," he mumbled, letting out a small exhale as he moved his head back and looked at you. He laughed softly at your tired look. He placed a few lingering kisses across your neck, coming to your lips last. "I love you," he murmured against them.

You smiled gently. "Forever?" you asked.

"Forever," Carlos confirmed, placing a kiss on your forehead. Slowly, he removed his softening cock from your pussy. You both watched his cum mixed with your spill out of you.

You looked up at Carlos, eyeing the dark look on his face. You sighed. "Morning fun or not, give me at least ten minutes. If not thirty!"

Carlos chuckled, moving out from under you and standing in front of you in an unbecoming state that would make his closest friends laugh at him. He swooped you into his arms making you yelp. "Let's take a shower. I'll clean you."

You raised a brow, hands hung around his neck. "Just cleaning? That doesn't sound like you," you retorted.

Carlos smirked, walking you to the bathroom. "You're right. I'll clean you, fuck you, and clean you again."

Oh…

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 smut #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz

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evilminji · 8 months ago

Text

Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>

Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?

He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.

What're you? A cop?

Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.

Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.

But see, here's the THING.

The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...

Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.

There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)

He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!

Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.

That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.

Poisonous, though.

They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.

Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!

Who's Coffee Is This?

Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!

You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.

He's shouting.

People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.

Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!

He TACKLES the man of steel.

RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!

And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.

He'll move in a moment.

When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.

The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.

They never do.

And now he's nearly killed Superman.

@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #minji's writing #killer coffee au #weston family brew #will make you see god or meet im

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jaylalolz · 1 month ago

Note

hi! can i request more jealous/possessive nicholas? perhaps with some making up?🥹

ty!!!

❛ 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez

SUMMARY, Nicholas and his girlfriend get into a heated argument after he ignores her all night while out with friends, leading her to turn off her location and go out.

A/N, thanks for requesting!! hope u like it

WARNINGS, none

Nicholas knew he had messed up the second he walked through the door. His phone had been blowing up with unread messages, but he had ignored them—too caught up in the chaos of the night with his friends. She was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, glaring at him like she had been waiting for this confrontation all night.

“You couldn’t send one text?” she snapped as soon as he stepped inside, her voice sharp. “Not one?”

Nicholas sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I told you I was going out with the guys. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is you disappeared! You didn’t answer my calls, didn’t respond to any of my texts. Do you know how that looks? Like you couldn’t care less.” Her eyes flashed with anger, and Nicholas could feel his own frustration rising.

“I was just out having a good time. Why are you blowing this up into something bigger than it is?”

“Because you don’t get it!” She stood up, her voice getting louder. “You always do this. You vanish with your friends and act like I don’t exist for the whole night. It’s like I’m not even on your radar when you’re with them.”

Nicholas clenched his fists, feeling cornered. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I just… didn’t think it was that big of a deal to be off my phone for a few hours.”

“A few hours? Nicholas, it was the entire night! I was worried about you!”

She turned away, grabbing her bag and phone from the counter. Nicholas could see her fingers tapping at her screen, and his stomach twisted when he realized what she was doing.

“Seriously?” he asked, watching as she turned off her location. “You’re pulling this again?”

“If you can’t bother to text me back, then you don’t get to know where I am,” she said coolly, her eyes daring him to say something. Without another word, she stormed out of the apartment, leaving him standing there, frustrated and angry.

Hours passed, and Nicholas was left stewing, replaying the argument over and over. She had every right to be pissed, but the way she just shut him out like that, like he didn’t matter… it made his blood boil. He picked up his phone to check if she’d cooled off yet, but instead, he saw it—a new Instagram story.

She was at the club. Smiling. Laughing. And there, standing next to her, was some guy.

Nicholas’s heart pounded in his chest as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He knew where she was. He wasn’t about to sit there while some random guy made her laugh like nothing had happened.

When he got to the club, it didn’t take long to spot her. She was leaning against the bar, talking to the same guy from her story. Nicholas’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. She was doing this on purpose. She knew he’d see it, knew it would set him off.

Without a second thought, Nicholas pushed through the crowd, his eyes locked on her. He reached her in a few quick strides, his hand gripping her arm, pulling her away from the guy before either of them knew what was happening.

“Nick, what the hell?” she protested, but he didn’t stop. He dragged her through the crowd, ignoring her complaints until they were outside in the humid night air. He didn’t let go until they reached his car, opening the passenger door with more force than necessary.

“Get in,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

She hesitated, eyes flashing with defiance, but she got into the car, slamming the door behind her. Nicholas got in on the driver’s side, gripping the steering wheel to calm the storm inside him before turning to face her.

“You think that was funny?” he growled, his voice barely controlled. “Turning off your location and posting that story, letting me see you with him?”

She glared at him, her arms crossed. “Maybe now you know how it feels when you disappear on me for a whole night.”

“That’s what this is about? Payback?” His voice rose, his anger spilling over. “I was out with my friends, but you—what? You run off to the club, posting stories, talking to random guys just to piss me off?”

“I wasn’t trying to piss you off, Nicholas,” she shot back, her voice sharp. “But maybe I wanted you to notice. Maybe I wanted you to feel what I felt when you ignored me all night.”

“Well, congratulations. You got my attention,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes dark with frustration. “I don’t like seeing you with other guys.”

“Maybe if you actually paid attention to me, I wouldn’t have to find someone else to talk to.”

Nicholas’s temper flared, and without thinking, he reached out, pulling her closer, his grip firm but not rough. “You don’t need anyone else,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “I don’t want you talking to anyone but me.”

Her breath hitched, their faces inches apart now, the tension between them thick and charged. She tried to stay angry, but there was something about the way he was looking at her, the raw intensity in his eyes, that made her pulse quicken.

“You don’t get to ignore me and then act like you own me,” she said, her voice faltering slightly, though the fire in her eyes hadn’t dimmed.

“I do own you,” Nicholas growled, his hand still gripping her waist. “You’re mine.”

For a moment, the air between them was heavy with everything they hadn’t said. The anger, the frustration, the possessiveness—it all tangled together in the space between their heated breaths.

She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, Nicholas’s lips crashed against hers, silencing whatever protest was about to leave her mouth. She resisted for half a second, but then she gave in, kissing him back with the same intensity, the same fire.

The kiss was rough, desperate, fueled by all the emotions they had been keeping bottled up. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads resting against each other, they were both breathing hard, the anger between them replaced by something rawer, something deeper.

“I hate it when you shut me out,” Nicholas murmured, his voice softer now, though still laced with possessiveness. “I hate it when you go to someone else.”

“I only do it because I’m scared you don’t care,” she whispered, her fingers brushing his jaw, softer than before.

“I care,” he said firmly. “More than you know.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the tension easing as they held each other. Eventually, she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t want anyone else but you,” she admitted softly.

Nicholas pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. “Good. Because you’re mine.”

They stayed like that for a while, their earlier argument forgotten, replaced by the certainty that, no matter how much they fought, they always found their way back to each other.

#nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas alexander chavez imagine #nicholas chavez fic #nicholas alexander chavez fic #nicholas alexander chavez x reader #charlie mayhew smut #charlie mayhew x reader #nicholas chavez fluff #nicholas chavez x y/n

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kateschi · 28 days ago

Text

cradled in strength

synopsis: after anxiously awaiting news from the delivery room, when katsuki holds your newborn daughter, everything changes.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: congrats you're parents now

the hospital is chaos around him. katsuki paces the hallway, his hands clenched into fists, knuckles white, and his sharp eyes dart toward the closed door of the delivery room every few seconds.

his chest heaves with each breath, the tension and fear he’ll never admit boiling beneath his skin. his heart pounds like a war drum, and all he can think about is you.

you, the love of his life, who is inside that room, fighting.

a nurse approaches again, trying to calm him down, but katsuki’s fiery glare cuts through her attempts like a blade.

“why the hell haven’t I heard anything yet?!” he barks, his voice thick with anxiety—a tone no one is used to hearing from the explosive hero.

“mr. bakugou, it’s—” she starts.

but katsuki isn’t hearing it. he storms past her, making his way toward the doctor who just exited the room, his eyes wild, fists trembling.

“if my wife dies,” he growls, his voice dripping with venom and something much more fragile, “I will fucking kill you.”

the doctor, seasoned in dealing with panicked fathers, meets his gaze with calm professionalism.

“mr. bakugou, I assure you, your wife is in good hands. we’re doing everything we can to ensure both she and the baby are healthy.”

katsuki’s breath catches in his throat, his chest heaving with helplessness. this isn’t a battle he can fight with brute strength or explosions.

kirishima, who has been quietly waiting in the background, steps forward, placing a steadying hand on katsuki’s shoulder.

“you’ve gotta trust them, man. they know what they’re doing. she’s strong. you know that better than anyone.”

katsuki’s eyes flash, his lips curling as if he’s about to snap, but the words stick. instead, he lets out a harsh breath, running a trembling hand through his unruly blonde hair. “damn it…”

the minutes drag on, each one stretching longer than the last, every second ticking by like torture. katsuki’s whole body is coiled tight, ready to spring into action, but there’s nothing he can do except wait.

and he hates waiting.

finally, the door creaks open, and a nurse pokes her head out. “mr. bakugou, you can come in now.”

he doesn’t need to be told twice. katsuki shoves past everyone, nearly sprinting into the room.

his eyes scan the space, and when they land on you, lying in the hospital bed, looking exhausted but alive, he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. relief floods through him so fast it makes his knees weak.

you’re there. you’re okay.

“hey,” you murmur weakly, your voice soft but steady as you give him a tired smile.

katsuki is at your side in an instant, dropping to his knees beside the bed, his large hand reaching for yours. he squeezes it tightly, like if he holds on hard enough, you’ll never leave his side again.

“you okay?” he asks, his voice low and rough around the edges, betraying the fear that’s consumed him the entire time.

you nod, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you try to steady your breathing. “I’m fine,” you whisper, your thumb brushing across his knuckles in reassurance. “just… tired.”

katsuki lets out a shaky breath, his thumb absentmindedly brushing the back of your hand. he stares at you, his crimson eyes wide with concern, the sharp edges of his usual persona softened.

you’ve never seen him like this—so vulnerable, so exposed. his gaze flickers across your face like he’s memorizing every detail, checking for any signs of pain or discomfort.

unable to resist the urge any longer, katsuki leans down and presses his lips gently to the top of your head. it’s a soft, lingering kiss.

he rests his forehead against yours for a moment, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers, “you scared the shit outta me.”

a weak laugh escapes you, your fingers tightening around his. “I know… but I’m okay. we’re okay.”

katsuki doesn’t respond immediately. his other hand slides under the blanket, resting gently on your stomach where the baby had been. the weight of everything hits him all at once.

his family. you. his daughter.

“I thought…” his voice cracks, barely above a whisper, and he shakes his head, the words stuck in his throat. “don’t… don’t ever do that again, alright?”

“I’ll do my best,” you tease softly, offering him another smile. “but I can’t make any promises.”

he huffs, his mouth twitching at the corners, though his eyes stay fixed on you, swirming with worry. then, as if on cue, the nurse approaches with a soft smile, holding something small and swaddled in a blanket.

“mr. bakugou,” she says gently, “would you like to meet your daughter?”

for a moment, katsuki freezes. his chest tightens, the world narrowing to the tiny bundle in the nurse’s arms. daughter. your daughter. the words seem surreal, and his heart pounds.

you nudge him softly, breaking him out of his daze. “go on, katsuki. she’s waiting for you.”

he blinks, swallowing hard before standing, his movements slower now. the nurse gently transfers the tiny bundle into his arms, and katsuki moves with more care than he ever thought possible.

his hands cradle the little girl, his breath catching as he stares down at her.

she’s so small, so fragile. a perfect little being wrapped in a blanket, with a tuft of spiky blonde hair peeking out. his hair. he lets out a small, shaky laugh, his lips parting as he whispers, “she’s got my hair…”

he stares at her, his chest swelling with something so overwhelming he doesn’t know how to process it. a fierce, protective love that rivals any rage or anger he’s ever felt before.

katsuki, the explosive, fiery hero, is brought to his knees by the tiny life in his arms.

you watch him, tears brimming in your eyes at the sight of katsuki holding your daughter with such tenderness. his usual harsh demeanor is replaced with something almost reverent.

he leans down, brushing his lips against her forehead before resting his cheek against the top of her head.

“she’s perfect,” you whisper, reaching out to place your hand over his.

he nods, swallowing the lump in his throat as he leans toward you, pressing his forehead gently to yours again. “yeah,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

katsuki doesn’t need to say more. he holds her close, her soft breathing the only sound in the room, grounding him in a way nothing else ever has.

you chuckle tiredly, leaning against him. you let out a small breath, "thank god she doesn't have your ugly face."

you swear you hear a vein pop in your husband, before he turns to you with a scowl, "I am not ugly, you ass."

"you were an ugly baby, and if you deny that," you smile, "then you're a liar, and that isn't a good look to sport in front of our daughter, is it?"

he pauses, the weight of your little family settling over him, “yeah..." he smiles, "our daughter.”

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

#bakugo x female reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou katsuki x you #mha x y/n #mha x reader #mha x you #katsuki bakugou x you #bakugou x fem!reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader

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madaqueue · 1 month ago

Text

LIKE WE WERE MADE TO

of course your doting boyfriend satoru cares about you - he walks you to work every morning, packs your lunches, makes you tea every night before bed. he'd do anything for you, so of course he'll help you with your heat.

pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!f!reader

themes/content: dark content (omegaverse). smut. heats, fingering, knotting, light dumbification, satoru being a little lovesick. (wk: 1.3k)

a/n: YAYYY happy quintober everyone >:) here's my contribution for the @ficsforgaza kinktober event, so excited to be a part of this and check out the link below for more works under this project! view my full kinktober masterlist and the google form for signup to be tagged in other works too! hope you all enjoy :3

quintober masterlist | sign up form | ffg kinktober

Satoru had no idea what to expect as he ran home through the crowded streets; since reading your brief text of ‘Come home. Need you.’ the alarm bells sounding in his head had failed to quiet. He prepared for the worst, scenarios racing through his mind. Were you hurt?

As he barrels through your front door, he certainly doesn’t expect what lays behind it: you, sprawled out naked on the couch, flushed cheeks and sweating, two fingers buried deep inside your cunt.

“What’s going on-”

The sentence dies in his throat as his entire body tenses. Something new hangs in the air, something sending his every sense into overdrive. Almost sickeningly sweet, with an unmistakable, carnal need.

Your heat.

“‘Toru,” you breathe out - even his name on your tongue sounds different, an unfamiliar desperation dripping from it, “need you, now.”

In an instant he’s by your side, your scent growing exponentially stronger with each step he takes until it begins to cloud his own thoughts, overcome with his body’s innate desire to care for you, to care for his omega.

He’s never seen you like this - in your time dating, your suppressants had done their job; maybe that’s why you barely noticed when they ran out last week. Just a few hours ago he was walking hand-in-hand with you to work, your eyes glimmering as you told him about your plans for the day. Something about a big meeting with supervisors? He was honestly a bit distracted by the way your thumb drew circles along his skin, the new perfume he thought you were wearing, how pretty you looked all bundled up in your coat and scarf, like a little present waiting to be unwrapped - before you lightly smacked the back of his head.

“Are you even listening to me, ‘Toru?”

“No,” he beamed.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stifle the smile spreading across your lips. Pressing a peck to his cheek, you turned on your heel with a small wave, your fingers dancing against the backdrop of the fall sky.

You always knew how to handle him - that was something he admired about you. He knew his personality easily veered into chaos, and yet you never seemed bothered by it, holding him in your palms and keeping him a stable shape. It took strength to do that, to not let his soul blend the edges of your own.

And yet, now, his strong, independent girlfriend has become nothing more than a sweet, desperate mess. The thought makes his teeth ache.

“Please,” the broken mewl pulls him back to the sweetness surrounding you as you continue pumping your fingers in and out.

Before he can choke out a response, your hands begin hastily removing his clothes, tugging off anything you can grab, palms sweaty against his torso as you unzip his uniform. With a harsh tear, his shirt falls to shreds on the floor, muscles rippling beneath. He was never known for his patience, after all - could you blame him?

“I got you, baby,” he murmurs, climbing on top of you so his thighs straddle your body, sinking into the cushions. “I’m here, m’gonna take good care of you.”

Two lanky fingers collect the slick pooling at your entrance as his free hand wraps around your wrist, gently pulling your palm from between your legs. He holds it above your head, leaning forward and blanketing you in his warmth. A wave of pleasure crashes over you as he slides inside, curling his fingertips towards that spot only he seems able to reach.

But it’s not enough.

“More, ‘Toru, please, need more,” you whine, your hips bucking up involuntarily. The words continue spilling into the air, desperate pleas for what you really need, what only he can give you.

“Okay, just - fuck - gimme a second.” And he’s panting already, the biological drive within him threatening to take over, to pin you down and fuck you until you’re nothing more than a limp little mess beneath him. But he’s better than that.

Right?

It takes every ounce of control to align his tip with your core and stay there for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the stretch as he knows you would want him to, but it’s made all the more difficult with your hands weakly grasping at his hips in an attempt to pull him forward.

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” you babble, “pleaaaseee-aaaahhh.”

When his cock finally enters you, all your nerves alight in flames. Your vision goes white, eyes rolling back as he fills you up. Exactly what you needed. For a moment, everything stills, returning to your senses as his own musky scent begins mingling in the air with yours.

The brief clarity lets you pick up on the prettiest little whines falling from his lips at the way you envelop him so perfectly, two souls made for one another.

In only a few thrusts he’s sweating, his body sticking to yours with each push and pull of his pelvis. It’s hot, impossibly hot, both of your cheeks flushed and gasping for air. When his lips meet yours, it’s imprecise and messy, breathing into each other’s mouths as your tongues meld. He tastes like sugar and desire and love and cinnamon, like some dessert you were denied as a child for fear it would give you a tummy ache. But now, it’s the only thing satiating you, the only thing you can stomach.

“M’gonna make you feel better,” he’s mumbling into you, “gonna fuck you so good.”

“Only you, ‘Toru,” you babble, and you’re just as gone as he is, “has to be you.”

There’s truth to it, of course - only he could quell the growing ache inside you. Only your alpha. Your bodies were made for this, you realize: with each increasingly rough thrust, he hits every spot inside you so perfectly, and as your walls begin to flutter around him, you squeeze him in just the way that has him losing the last remaining shreds of his sanity.

Each beat of his heart echoes through his ears, overshadowing the wet squelches of your cunt around him and the lewd slapping of his balls against your ass. All he knows is you - his sweetheart, his other half, his omega.

As he ruts into you, something hot and thick begins coiling in his stomach, something unfamiliar, but the words are engraved into his soul as he slurs, “gonna take my knot f’me, yeah? ‘S’gonna help, okay?”

Teary eyes blink up at him, glossed over in pleasure as you nod. “Need it, please,” you whimper. Your mouth forms the word on pure instinct, “Alpha.”

And that’s all it takes to make him snap.

With a broken cry of your name, he releases into you.

The sensation of his cock twitching sends you over the edge, the heat in your chest burning brighter and brighter and brighter until it’s all you can feel.

As you come down from your high, there’s a new pressure in your core - you feel so, so fucking full.

His cum swells inside you as he cautiously adjusts his body weight. Pink cheeks and blue eyes find your gaze and he gives you a weak chuckle, met with your own equally fucked-out grin as you brush sweat-slicked hair from his forehead.

It takes effort to slow his breathing enough to speak, enough to think. “Your first heat with me,” he muses to himself. His heart warms at the thought: now he can take care of you in the way he was made to. “Love you s’much, baby,” he hums, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips before nuzzling into your neck, softly breathing in the warm scent.

“Love you, too.” Your fingertips slowly scratch his undercut, the haze now clearing enough that you swear you hear him purr. Your cunt involuntarily clenches around him - around his knot - as you gently run your nails down his back. His body melds perfectly around yours. “Alpha.”

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skyrigel · 4 months ago

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“Sweet nothing”

Pairing: Benjicot “davos” blackwood x fem!reader

Benji masterlist

Between war, blood and chaos, your husband founds himself running home to your sweet nothing.

Nsfw, Benji being a tease but absolutely feral for you, bath chamber hinted sex, kissing and biting, nudtidy, groping, consent is sexy, domesticated!ben, fancast! Benji.

“ Darling, did you miss me ? ” You opened your eyes to find your lord husband strolling in your bath chambers.

All the servants were walking out with their head bowed down and knowing closed smiles, Benji grinned when he caught your eye, before he trailed his gaze down at your naked body, drinking you in with a smug tug of his lips, rubbing his jaw.

“ I missed you.” you breathed, feeling your heart ache to touch him, to hold him, to breathe him in.

You were beginning to get out of water when Ben shaked his head, mouthing a 'love' before stripping off his clothes, one by one.

He was being torturous with the pace, he knew well how driven you were, your mouth agape as you saw him, so so long. He tossed his tunic, because teasing you was one of his greatest amusement, but then again, he was dying to be in your embrace and let everything mute in the background, and regardless to say how pretty you looked, like those sirens they talked about, luring him and he would, he would crawl and beg and plead and surrender, for you he was insane.

“ My lord.” you whispered, giving him that, ‘I'll never sleep with you again’ look and it only took a moment before he was stepping down in the bath, beaming.

His naked body disappearing in the mist of water, you followed his movements, his smile climbing to a grin as he reached you, taking your hand and pressing it to his chest. Beneath your palm his heart was beating for you, loud and rhythmic.

“ You have no idea how much I missed you.” you pressed a soft kiss on his chest, just near a bluish bruised wound. You hoped they were all dead, all of them who hurt him.

“ you can always give me a idea, don't you think my lady.” He pouted, sensing your worry as he lifted you chin with his finger tip, eyes sparkling with mischief, you pushed forward your hands to cup his face, needless to say about him. He was everywhere, cupping your ass cheeks to kneading your breast, pulling your waist as he placed sweet kisses all over, like a starved man and he was, a very starved man for your love, your affection, your body and all of your sweet nothings.

“ I missed this.” he bited at the crook your neck, you arched back, allowing more access.

“ And ? ” you asked because Benji liked that, liked knowing everything that swirled in your mind, to know what you thought about everything and nothing.

You couldn't see him as he was sliding down your body, open mouthed kisses all over your skin while you tugged at his soft hair, but you knew how stupidly he would have smiled.

“ And this.” he bumped his nose to your navel, looking up to meet your gaze.

“ Tell me more.” you whined, dropping your head back, Benji wrapped your legs around his waist, taking you out of the water as he laid you on the floor, climbing over you.

“ More ? ” He smiled, leaning to kiss your nose tip, then claiming your in hard embrace and clatter of souls, his lips soft and warm and sweet.

You were flushed under him, you didn't dare look between him and you because the hard length that pressed against your thigh was enough proof of how madly you drived him crazy.

Benji watched as your breath hiccuped in your throat, watching your heart swell and eyes dazed with lust, like blown back.

“say it my sweet love.” He was propped on his elbows on either side of your head, his own voice shaky, he wanted nothing less to dive inside you, take you all and leave nothing, to devour and to worship you. But he needed you to say it first. “c'mon sweetheart” He nuzzled his nose at the side of your neck, breathing in your scent, humming along.

“ yes...Ben.” you bited your lower lip as his shaft was leaking with pre cum, weakening your legs and the pressure in your pit grew, dazing your senses.

“ huh.” Ben perked up, relaxing in a smirk, pecking down your jaw as he raised one eyebrow, like he didn't listen. Bastard.

“ T-take me.” you demanded and pleaded and that was all he needed to hear, before his lips parted in a gasp, He's bloody going to moan every sweet nothing out of you. Oh, how sweet.

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eimiette · 2 months ago

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late nights

࣪★ ⋆ ˙ ۪ ݁ 𓈒 ── SPENCER REID

SUMMARY: in the quiet moments between solving cases and late night paperwork, you and spencer blur the lines between friendship and something more, navigating the unspoken tension with stolen kisses in dark corners of the bau evidence room. GENRE: smut with plot, idiots in love (again, sorry) CW/TAGS: soft!dom spencer (duh), exhibitionism?, piv sex, oral f!receiving, lots of banter, est!fwb relationship, reader is referred to as a girl, praise asf.

the bullpen was nearly deserted, save for you and spencer reid, who were still chained to your desks, slogging through the seemingly endless pile of paperwork. the hum of the overhead lights and the occasional rustle of paper filled the quiet. everyone else had long since headed home, but you were too stubborn to leave until the job was done—and spencer was, well, spencer.

you glanced over at him, amused by how intensely he was concentrating on his work. his brow was furrowed, and his pen moved quickly over the report, as if he were solving a puzzle instead of filling out the same tedious forms as you. the sight made you smirk.

“hey, genius,” you called out, breaking the silence. “you got a second?”

he didn’t bother looking up. “for you? always,” he replied, his tone so casual it almost sounded sincere.

“great. i need your help in the evidence room,” you continued, stacking up a few files on your desk. “figured you could speed things up with that supercomputer brain of yours.”

he finally looked up, quirking an eyebrow. “and what, exactly, do i get out of this arrangement?”

you grinned. “the satisfaction of knowing you’re contributing to a more organized workspace. and, you know, my eternal gratitude.”

spencer sighed in mock resignation, setting down his pen. “fine. but only because i can’t stand to watch you fumble around in there any longer.”

you laughed as you led him down the hallway. “oh, please. we both know you live for this stuff. reorganizing the evidence room? it’s like christmas came early for you.”

he rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked up in a small smile. “if this is your idea of christmas, remind me not to accept any holiday invitations from you.”

you reached the heavy door of the evidence room and pushed it open, flipping on the overhead light. “i don’t know, i think you’d have fun. nothing like a little chaos to keep you on your toes.”

“or give me a migraine,” spencer muttered, stepping inside and taking in the rows of shelves filled with boxes and files. “alright, what’s the plan?”

“simple,” you said, setting the files down on a metal table in the center of the room. “we’ve got to merge these old case files into the new system. you’re a walking rolodex, so i’m counting on you to make this as painless as possible.”

he shot you a sideways look. “i see. so i’m just here to do all the thinking?”

“you got it,” you replied with a grin. “and i’m here to provide moral support and keep you entertained.”

“lucky me,” he said dryly, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes as he crouched down to examine the boxes on the lower shelves. “i hope your idea of entertainment is better than your idea of organizing.”

you crouched down beside him, nudging him with your shoulder. “you wound me, reid. i thought we were in this together.”

he snorted softly. “yeah, together in the sense that i’m doing all the work, and you’re supervising.”

“hey, i’m contributing,” you shot back, pulling a box toward you. “i’m providing witty commentary. keeps things interesting.”

he shook his head, but his smile grew. “i’ll give you that. it’s definitely not boring.”

you fell into an easy rhythm, working side by side as you sorted through the files. the banter flowed naturally, the quiet hum of the evidence room providing a backdrop to your back-and-forth. every now and then, you’d catch spencer watching you out of the corner of his eye, and each time, he’d quickly look away, like he’d been caught at something.

at one point, you both reached for the same box at the same time, your hands brushing. you felt a spark of something—maybe it was just static, maybe it was more—and you glanced up to find him looking right at you, closer than you realized.

“careful,” you said with a smirk, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “people might think you’re trying to hold my hand.”

he didn’t move his hand away. instead, his eyes held yours, the corner of his mouth lifting. “like what? that i’m trying to be helpful?”

you chuckled. “or that you’re trying to get handsy.”

he smirked. “not sure that’s a compliment”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “it’s not. but you know, you keep this up, and someone’s gonna catch on.”

“maybe,” he replied, his voice low, “but that didn’t stop you last time.”

you rolled your eyes, leaning in slightly. “last time, we were off the clock. think you can pull this off at work?”

reid's eyes hung low,“i’m a fan of multitasking. besides, you always say i need to get out of my comfort zone.”

you gave him a playful smirk, leaning in closer. “is that what you’re calling this? because it feels more like you’re trying to test your luck.”

reid’s eyes widened, feigning innocence. “i’m just here to help you with the evidence. if you’re reading anything more into it, that’s all on you.”

you raised an eyebrow and he let out a soft chuckle, his hand lightly brushing your arm. “i promise, i’m just focused on finding those files. though if you think my intentions are less than professional, well, maybe you’re the one with a wild imagination.”

you let your hand trail lightly along his chest, raising an eyebrow. “oh, i’m sure you’re ‘focused,’ but i don’t think it’s on the evidence files.”

reid’s smile widened, his gaze dropping to where your hand rested. “noticed, did you? guess i can’t help but be a little distracted when you’re this close.”

you held your breath as reid gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering to cup your cheek. the touch was soft, but the way he looked at you made your pulse quicken.

“you know,” he began, his voice low and earnest, “i’ve been thinking about you all night. can’t seem to focus on anything else.”

you raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “oh? and why’s that?”

he let his fingers trail gently down from your cheek to your waist, his touch making you shiver slightly. “partly because you’re wearing that skirt. it’s just... distracting.”

you felt a jolt at his touch, his fingers brushing lightly under the hem of your shirt. “distracting, huh? how so?”

reid’s gaze dropped to where his hand rested on your waist, his fingers barely grazing your skin. “every time i tried to work, all i could think about was how you looked—how you’ve been driving me fucking insane since you walked in.”

his fingers trailed lightly under the bottom of your shirt, his touch gentle and deliberate. you held your breath, feeling the heat of his hand against your skin.

“you’re making it really hard to stay professional,” he continued, his voice low and husky. “i keep imagining what it’d be like if you were closer, if i could...”

you felt a rush of warmth at his words and his touch. “and what if i don’t mind a little distraction?”

reid’s eyes flickered with a mix of desire and appreciation. “if that’s the case, then i’m more than happy to be distracted.”

without warning, reid’s body pressed against yours, and you could feel the raw heat emanating from him. his lips were soft yet demanding as they captured yours, and your hands instinctively reached up to entangle in his hair. the sensation of his lips moving against yours was electrifying, making your heart race and your skin tingle.

reid's hands found your waist, gripping tightly as he maneuvered you backwards. your back collided with the smooth surface of a nearby desk, papers scattering to the floor unheeded. in one fluid motion, he lifted you onto its edge, positioning himself between your legs. the wood was cool against your flushed skin as reid pressed his body flush against yours.

his lips broke away from your mouth, trailing a searing path along your jawline. you tilted your head back with a soft gasp, granting him better access as he kissed down the column of your throat. his breath was hot against your skin, each exhalation sending tingles of electricity coursing through your body.

reid's voice was low and husky as he murmured against your neck. "you're so pretty," reid whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. his lips brushed against your skin as he spoke, the sensation igniting sparks of pleasure. "been wanting you all day beautiful."

his hands roamed your body, leaving trails of heat in their wake. you felt yourself responding, a familiar warmth building low in your belly. reid's fingers danced along your curves as he continued murmuring praises and promises.

"’gonna make you feel so good," he purred, nipping gently at your earlobe.

your breath hitched as his words and touch inflamed your desire. you pressed closer, craving more contact. a soft moan escaped your lips as reid's hands found sensitive spots, expertly stoking your arousal.his hands slid up your thighs, pushing your skirt up to expose your bare skin. his fingers dipped under the lace of your panties, tracing tantalizing patterns. he leaned in to kiss you again, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. you could taste the sweetness of the coffee he'd had earlier as his tongue explored your mouth.

with a growl, he tugged at your panties, sliding them down your legs and tossing them aside. the cold metal of the desk against your bare skin made you gasp, but the shock quickly dissipated as reid's fingers found your slick folds. he stroked your clit, eliciting a breathy moan.

your body arched involuntarily as his fingers brought you closer to the edge. "fuck, spence..."

reid smirked, his eyes dark with lust. "god, you're so wet already," he groaned, his voice husky with desire.

he leaned down to kiss you again, swallowing your moans as his fingers continued their maddening rhythm. his other hand cupped your breast, squeezing gently through the fabric of your shirt. you were lost in the sensations, your body moving in sync with reid's.

he broke the kiss, his eyes raking over you hungrily, “"i want to taste you so badly."

without waiting for a response, he knelt before you, spreading your thighs. his lips grazed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, causing a rush of pleasure. his breath was hot and intoxicating as he worked his way up, teasing you.

“spread your legs baby, that’s it… wider.” his hands slid up your calves, his palms rough against your skin. his fingertips danced along your thighs, sending waves of electricity coursing through you.

his voice was low and commanding, sending shivers down your spine. you obeyed, your knees falling apart, revealing yourself to him.

reid's tongue traced along the crease where your thigh met your hips, teasing you.

“spence…” you whined, arching into him, craving his touch.

his hands slid higher, pushing your skirt further up and exposing your soaked center. he licked his lips, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"fuck, baby, you look so good like this." he leaned in, his lips ghosting over your core. "so pretty and wet... so ready for me."

a whimper escaped your throat as his breath washed over you. your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently, urging him to continue. he complied, his tongue flicking out to trace the outline of your lips. you shuddered at the sensation, your hips bucking involuntarily.

reid's fingers dug into your thighs, holding you in place as he lapped at your center. you moaned, your head falling back against the desk.

"tastes so good," he groaned, his breath hot against your skin.

you rocked your hips, grinding against his mouth, desperate for more friction. he responded, his tongue circling your clit, teasing you.

"spence..." you panted, your voice hoarse.

his eyes flicked up to meet yours, his pupils dilated with lust.

"yes?"

"i need... please..."

"what do you need, baby?"

you bit your lip, struggling to form words.

"please, spence, i need you. i need you inside me. please."

your words sent a visible shudder through him. he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire.

"since you asked so nicely..."

with a groan, he stood, undoing his belt and zipper with frantic urgency. his cock sprang free, hard and aching. you reached for him, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, stroking him slowly. he pressed his lips to yours, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss.

reid's lips never left yours as his hand shifted to his back pocket, smoothly pulling out his wallet. his movements were quick but deliberate, fingers deftly sliding inside to retrieve a condom. as he did, you began unbuttoning his shirt, your fingers working swiftly down the row of buttons, each one exposing more of his skin. his breath hitched slightly at the sensation of your touch, his focus torn between getting the condom and the feel of your hands on him. you could feel his muscles tensing under your fingertips as you pushed his shirt open, and he held the condom up with a small, breathless grin, his eyes locked on yours.

he tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his cock with practiced ease. with a soft moan, he positioned himself between your thighs, his erection pressing against your entrance. you gripped his shoulders, lifting your hips slightly to meet him, impatient and eager.

he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue darting out to taste you. you moaned softly, returning his kiss, your tongues dancing together.

"spence, please."

he nodded, his eyes fluttering shut as he pushed into you.

you gasped at the sensation, your body arching off the desk, desperate for more. he was hot and hard, stretching and filling you, setting every nerve ending on fire. he began to move, slow and steady, his eyes locked on yours.

"you feel so good, pretty girl," he groaned, his voice husky.

he gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, guiding you as he increased his pace, “"wrap your legs around my waist."

your body complied without thought, locking him into place. the change in angle had you gasping and moaning as the delicious friction sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.

reid's eyes fluttered shut, his head falling forward, his lips brushing against yours. he guided your back to the desk top and held you there, thrusting into you, his pace relentless.

your breath was coming in short, shallow gasps as the pressure built inside you. your fingers dug into his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him as you climbed toward the peak.

"don't close your eyes, baby. look at me."

you forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze, losing yourself in his brown eyes.

"that's it, beautiful. so fucking beautiful," he praised.

he shifted his weight, changing the angle once again, his hips grinding against yours.

the sensation was too much, and you felt yourself tumbling over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you.

spencer buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning as you clenched around him, milking him. he thrust into you once, twice, and then he was coming, his body shuddering with pleasure.

the two of you collapsed in a sweaty, panting heap, reid's weight pinning you to the desk. you lay there, his heartbeat thudding against yours, his breath hot on your skin.

sitting up from the desk, you felt a gentle, lingering warmth from the moment as you stretched. reid stepped closer, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. his touch was tender but filled with the lingering heat of the encounter.

with a gentle hand, he guided you to your feet, helping you up from the desk. as you stood, your legs trembled slightly. you pulled up your skirt as spencer also redressed. “so,” you teased, nudging his side, “is this where you quote some obscure fucking statistic about how good sex improves cognitive function or something?”

reid chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark of mischief. “actually, studies show that it releases a significant amount of oxytocin, which can enhance bonding and trust. not that you needed an excuse.”

you rolled your eyes, helping him button up his shirt “trust you to turn this into a science lesson. oh my god you might as well give a damn ted talk on the benefits of cuddling?”

“maybe i will,” he replied, his fingers gently massaging your back. “did you know cuddling for 10 minutes releases enough endorphins to improve mood significantly?”

you let out a dramatic sigh, though a smile tugged at your lips. “spencer reid, you are a fucking nerd, and i mean that affectionately. but at least you’re a nerd with good hands.”

he grinned, shifting a little closer. “i’ll take that as a compliment. besides, i think i deserve some credit for that multitasking earlier.”

you laughed, your head resting against his chest. “okay, fine. you did okay. maybe even a little better than okay.”

“a little?” he scoffed, feigning offense. “i think i deserve more than ‘a little better than okay.’”

reid’s expression turned serious, though his eyes were still light and looked at you with affection. “as much as i’d love to bask in compliments, we do have paperwork to finish.”

you sighed, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “i’ll deal with hotch’s scolding in the morning. for now, how about we skip the paperwork and head to my place?” you pouted, pleading with your eyes and held your hands behind your back, feigning innocence as you waited for his response.

reid’s smile softened, clearly charmed by your playful act. “you know, i don’t think i can say no to that.”

you grinned up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “this is exactly why you’re my best friend.”

reid smirked, his arms encircling your waist. “glad i’m still in the running for that title.”

he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling back with a fond glint in his eyes. with a shared laugh, he guided you out of the office. as you both made your way to the parking lot, your giggles echoed in the hallway like a couple of a couple of teenagers sneaking out past dark.

⟢

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

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connorsui · 2 months ago

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In Your Arms

Zayne x reader

Genre/warnings: pure fluff, boyfriend zayne wanting peace and you give it, manz wanna make u a wife, no warnings we don't die around here...

Synopsis: Zayne finds solace in the warmth of your presence amidst the chaos of his demanding career, and silently, he cherishes every moment, hoping one day to make your bond official

Note: I wanted doctor zayne to cure my heart ....so I made doctor zayne want to make me a wife ...

w.c: 1,070

Zayne’s footsteps echoed softly in the sterile, dimly lit hospital corridor, his mind still entangled in the complexities of the latest surgery he’d performed. His shoulders were tense, a slight frown creasing his usually composed expression as he made his way out of the building. It had been another long day, filled with the kind of high-stakes decisions that most people couldn’t fathom. But as soon as he saw you waiting for him by the entrance, your face lighting up at the sight of him, something in him softened.

The sight of you there, with your soft smile and eyes that sparkled just for him, made the world tilt back into place. The weight of the day fell away, and for a moment, he allowed himself to simply bask in the warmth of your presence. He didn’t need to say anything; the way his eyes lingered on you, tracing the curve of your lips and the gentle slope of your shoulders, spoke volumes.

“Hi, Love! ” you greeted him, your voice a gentle balm to his frayed nerves.

“Hello, Sweetheart” he replied, his tone low and warm, the single word carrying a weight of unspoken affection. His hands itched to reach out, to pull you into his arms right there in front of everyone, but Zayne had always been careful with his emotions, especially in public. Instead, he settled for a small, almost imperceptible smile that you had come to recognize as his version of a bear hug.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the soft rustle of your clothing the only sound in the quiet night air. It wasn’t until you were inside his car, the doors closed, and the world shut out, that he allowed himself the luxury of touch. His hand reached out, fingers lightly grazing yours before he intertwined them, the simple gesture grounding him in a way nothing else could.

“I would like to first apologize to you …” he murmured after a few minutes, his voice laced with the kind of guilt that came from too many late nights and missed dinners.

Surprised; you questioned. “What for exactly?”

“I just know I haven’t been around much.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, offering him a soft, understanding smile. “Zayne, It's alright… I know you’re doing everything you can…But…let's focus on the now.. is there anything I can do to make your night better?”

He turned his head to look at you, his gaze searching your face for any sign of fatigue or frustration. Instead, he found only warmth and concern, your eyes silently urging him to let you take care of him for once. The tension in his chest eased a fraction, and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Just being with you makes everything better,” he admitted, his voice rough with the weight of the day. “I don’t need anything else… just you.”

The ride to his apartment was filled with quiet conversation, the kind that flowed easily between two people who were entirely comfortable with each other. When you arrived, Zayne wasted no time pulling you close as soon as the door clicked shut behind you. His arms wrapped around you, his head resting on your chest as he exhaled deeply, finally allowing himself to relax.

“You’re so tense,” you murmured, your fingers instinctively threading through his hair, the familiar motion soothing both of you. “Why don’t you let me run you a bath? Or make you some tea?”

He tightened his hold on you, shaking his head slightly as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “No, just… this is what I need. You’re what I need.”

The way he clung to you, as if letting go would mean losing the one thing keeping him grounded, made your heart ache with a mix of love and concern. He was always so strong, so capable, but even Zayne had his limits, and you could see that he’d reached them tonight.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” you suggested softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “You deserve to rest.”

He nodded against you, and you led him to his bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the room. Zayne moved with a quiet grace, his every action deliberate as he turned to face you, his hands settling on your waist.

“I’m sorry I’m not more… put together tonight,” he murmured, his eyes heavy with exhaustion as he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours.

“You don’t have to be anything other than yourself with me,” you whispered back, your hands coming up to cup his face. “I love you just as you are, Zayne.”

His breath hitched slightly at your words, and he pressed his lips to yours in a slow, lingering kiss that made your heart swell with emotion. There was no rush, no urgency—just the deep, abiding love that had grown between you over time, steady and unshakable.

When he pulled back, his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his eyes meeting yours in silent question. You nodded, and he carefully lifted your shirt over your head, his hands warm against your skin as he undressed you with the same precision he used in surgery.

Once you were both stripped down; Zayne pulled you into bed, his arms wrapping around you as he settled you against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, a comforting rhythm beneath your ear as you laid together in the quiet.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his lips brushing the top of your head.

“It’s perfect,” you whispered back, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.

Zayne smiled against your hair, his hold on you tightening slightly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. In that moment, with you wrapped up in his arms, he felt complete, as if all the pieces of his life had finally fallen into place.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “ — to be here with you… it’s all I need.”

You nestled closer, your heart swelling with love for the man who had given so much of himself to others, yet asked for so little in return. “I’m here, Zayne. I’m always here.”

As you drifted off to sleep, Zayne couldn’t help but think about how much he wanted this—wanted you—every day for the rest of his life. And one day, he would make that dream a reality. But for now, he was content to hold you close, savoring the warmth of your body against his as he followed you into sleep.

Doctor zayne with a need for you is the only man I will ever need

#suiwrites🍒#zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #lads zayne #lnds zayne #l&ds zayne #zayne #lnds x reader #lnds #love and deepspace #consui says sum #consui sees #𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓾𝓲'𝓼 𝓓𝓮𝓵𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼

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lalunanymph · 3 months ago

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୨⎯ 🖤⎯୧ 𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐃É𝐌𝐎𝐍

driven by a desperate need to uncover the truth behind your visions after the chaos at the auction, you strike a deal with sylus to unlock more of your memories… only to discover far more than what you bargained for

𓇢𓆸 MONSTERFUCKING, explicit smut with sylus in his demon form, cumflation, predicament bondage (he ties you up with his evol), mentions of pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage, nightmare landscapes, references to GOETHE'S "FAUST" AND HADES imagery for my rendition of sylus' origin, religious imagery, sacrilege, mentions of food, mentions of blood, mentions of death, reader goes insane, mentions of gore, mentions of violence, reader and sylus had a child together, sexy but it's also pretty angsty wbk, this is barely edited ... sorry ...

They say that no one understands human curiosity quite like a demon does.

Once angels with the entire heavens at their feet, their eyes now scorch the earth searching for souls to entrap and torture, striking deals in turn for pounds of flesh they devour once a mortal leaves the realm.

Demons were cunning and ruthless creatures who struck fear into every heart they encountered; whose natural oozing charm and demeanor could convince even the most stalwart of men to sell their soul in exchange for a paltry consolation prize.

In a way, Sylus reminds you of a demon.

If it weren't for the deal you struck with him to bring you to the auction at the hotel, you wouldn't be stuck in this liminal situation where you know too much, but not enough.

After the incident at the Salon Hotel where your memories were coming back in pieces and fragments, frustration stole the last of your rationality and you all but begged the towering, intimidating lord of the N109 underworld to help you gain more of your recollections back.

At first, he had refused to do so with no reason given.

But, just as you overestimate how stubborn he can be, he underestimates just how persistent you are in turn.

Sitting across from him in nothing but a scarlet robe he had gifted you, the runny morning sunlight spilling across the mahogany table does nothing to warm you up from the inside out. You're still jittery from the explosion and the fight with that strange looking Wanderer, all while your lover (partner?) appears both nonchalant and nonplussed despite almost losing his life a few nights ago.

"I can hear the wheels in your head turning, sweetie."

Sylus finally puts down the book he's been reading for the past half an hour, peering at you over his glasses.

You clear your throat and reach for the glass of pomegranate juice the personal chef had prepared, whetting your throat and your lips for what you have to say next.

"Sylus, it's been days since the last time we were at the hotel," you pause, biting your lower lip. "Don't you think I deserve an explanation of what happened? What I saw in those... flashbacks?"

If you could even call them that.

The dagger in your hand. The blood stains on your fingers. A towering, dark figure whose touch was more familiar than you could ever believe. It all felt too real and tangible.

Much, much too tangible.

As much as you try to ignore it, bury your curiosity six feet under where you could never see it again, your innate Hunter instincts tell you there's something big he's not telling you.

Something he can't tell you.

Sylus' exaggerated exhale grates your ears and he gives you a scrutinizing look all over.

"I told you—"

"You have no idea what set off those flashbacks, yeah, I heard," you bite back, seething.

A shadow of a grin teases the corners of his lips. "Seems like the little kitten has her claws ready. Whatever is bothering you, sweetie?"

Bristling at his patronizing tone, your glare sharpens, your grip around the glass tightening.

"I want to know the truth, Sy." You lean back in the chair and cross your arms. "The whole truth. And nothing but. Why did I have those visions? Why were you in them? Why can't my memories come back no matter how hard I try to remember?"

You expect him to scoff or play elusive with you like he usually does. But, for the first time since you've met him, Sylus is wearing a pensive look, one which draws the angles of his face to look older than his 28 years of age.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

His voice is hoarser than you expect, and you perk up in disbelief.

"You-you're willing to tell me?"

His crimson eyes flicker to the pomegranate juice in your hands.

"I would like to. But, it depends on if you can handle the truth, little bird."

You squint at him through narrowed eyes, trying to uncover the ploy he has up his sleeve. Trusting Sylus didn't come naturally to you, though you did try for the sake of the Aether Core bond connecting you both.

"I can handle it," you mutter decisively. "You've seen what happened after the hotel explosion—I can handle it."

The sunlight cascading behind you drenches half of his face in the shadows, a look of deep contemplation etched in his countenance.

"Alright." He stands up, and without another moment to spare, rummages in his fridge, fishing out a whole pomegranate and peeling it with nimble, sure fingers. Your curiosity simmers to a boiling point when he taps out a handful of seeds, placing it in a bowl and pushing it right towards you.

"Eat up."

Cautiously, you assess the blood red seeds, wondering if this was a test or some sort for him to evaluate you.

“What is this?”

Those crimson eyes glint with an unnamed emotion, and his expression remains unfathomable. Straightening to his full height, Sylus sauntered over to you, hands in his robe pockets; a teasing grin on his lips. He stops just shy of brushing his shins against your knees, and leans forward, broad shoulders blocking out the morning sunlight as he drenches you in the full shadows of his intentions and secrecy.

“You asked me to tell you the truth and I will. Consider these seeds a downpayment for what I’m about to reveal to you tonight.”

Adrenaline spikes your veins, and your breathing hitches with excitement.

Is he really…?

Your thoughts trail off, and you hum, reluctantly picking up one perfectly round, juicy red globe.

Faintly, your voice reaches him, soft and frayed with hesitancy.

“And if I do this, will you tell me everything I want to know?”

Striking a deal with Sylus is like striking a deal with the devil himself. You knew this—if it was too good to be true, there was something you had to give back in return. But… the idea of fully comprehending the horrible visions you saw is much too tempting.

In answer, he cocks his head to one side, regarding you curiously like how a raven might, his mannerisms bringing to mind a scheming Mephisto.

“Of course. When have I ever gone back on my deal?”

The allure of knowing is too hard to resist. As you bite down on the pomegranate seeds, its sweet juices coating your tongue, you never thought succumbing to temptation could taste this good.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

It’s night somewhere in the recesses of your consciousness.

You should be in your own bed in Sylus’ mansion, high thread count sheets pulled up to your chin, but instead, you’re barefoot in this abandoned colosseum, staring up at the towering effigies of old gods long departed from this world. The state of these statues are in ruin; fragments of faces and bodies missing as if they were alone were the lone survivors of a universe-changing explosion.

Only the sound of your breath and the rustle of your footsteps whispering across the stone floor touched your ears. Your guard is up, and you think you’re fully here alone when a presence makes itself known behind you.

You feel his arms wrap around your torso, pulling you right to his chest. There is no need to turn around; you already know who it was.

Silver hair the color of snow shines in this drab, gray pantheon where old gods and a new world witness him getting to his knees, pressing his face right into your belly that, you realize with a jolt, is protruding slightly.

“I have missed you,” his familiar baritone sends sparks of longing down your spine, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, sighing deeply in contentment.

“My brother tried to keep me locked in the basement,” your words, though foreign to your own ears, felt right at this moment.

Sylus, dressed in a soldier’s uniform, kisses your stomach again, his yearning felt through his sigh when he caresses your hips with broad strokes of his large palms. “I only wish to be with you for the rest of my life.”

“That is my dearest wish, too,” you reply back in a shaky voice.

His smirk, though flashed centuries apart from the Sylus you know now, is still familiar and cheeky.

“Run away with me,” he decided, straightening up to tangle his fingers with yours, squeezing your hands tightly. “Run away with me and let us forget this horrendous fate, my love.”

Tears pool in your eyes, and you touch your belly, as if holding onto it for strength. “My love, my brother will be back and he will wonder where I am. It is not safe for you here. He knows what you have done to me—” your grip tightens further on your belly, “—and he wants his revenge for the grave error you have caused my family and I. You need to run—”

The touching scene is interrupted by a man clearing his throat. The both of you look up to find the wounded eyes of your brother searing through the two of you.

“Sylus,” Valentine snarled, and your lover is quick to hide you behind his broad build, unsheathing his sword.

“Do not harm her,” Sylus’ tone is low and menacing. “Your sister had no part in this debauchery. It is me you want.”

Your brother's eyes, so similar to your own, flash with a hunger for Sylus’ end and he swings the sword first. A bloody fight ensues, one man battling for your honor and the other for your love. Your cries go unheard, as if they are alike to the stone statues observing these conflicts with a detached eye.

“Sylus—noooo!”

His blade sinks into Valentine’s chest, cherry red blood spewing out onto the stone floors. You drop to your knees, cradling your belly in anguish as you cry out your brother’s name over and over again. Your brother’s blood seeps through your hands, staining your snowy white nightgown as you fail to staunch his life from leaving his shuddering body.

He’s dead… oh gods… he’s dead… My last family member is dead!

Devastated, you run off barefoot into the night, rocks and dirt cutting through the delicate soles of your feet as you scream and cry like a madwoman.

Sylus has killed my brother… he’s killed my mother…

This cursed child in your womb!

You want nothing more than to pull it from the flesh of your being, leaving it straggling and dying for breath. You want nothing of Sylus in you—there is an absence of everything warm and good in your shivering chest. All you desire for is his demise from this world.

Hurling yourself into an empty church, you stagger to the sanctuary, climbing the steps and crumble into a desperate, sobbing heap.

Tears drip down to the stone floor, and your sobs echo around the vacant space. Saint Verona gazes down upon you, heavenly in her glow of flowing blonde hair and esoteric glare, stoic and silent, as if she too has abandoned you from God’s good graces. A bubbling laughter filled with nothing but terror and hysteria bounces across the church’s walls and you cackle, tearing at your hair, your clothes, fists raining down onto your belly as you try to rid yourself of the monster’s child.

The scene changes.

Scorching earth fills your nose, and in your hand, a dagger prevails.

There’s a thundering of hooves, like a battalion of horses fighting in the distance, ringing through your hollow ears. The ground shakes and trembles from the force of the hundred horses, but when you look up, you see a familiar pair of red eyes burning through the dark mists surrounding him.

His name comes to you in a flash.

Sylus.

Those crimson orbs seem to float through the smoky composition of his face, though if you look closer, you can see the translucent demonic skin stretching over his towering form appearing in fleeting instances—proof that he was once human.

You glare at him, getting to your feet and wield the dagger, aiming it straight for his heart.

The second the pointed tip sinks into his chest, the world explodes in a shock of white light, and you’re back in the same, decrepit pantheon.

There is no longer a child inside of you, just hatred tearing through your heart as you bare your teeth at his demonic form, not afraid so much as devastated by his betrayal.

“You hurt me.”

Your voice rings through the empty halls with the conviction of an entire jury waiting to declare him guilty.

Sylus doesn’t respond, merely taking one step towards you. His demonic form towers above you by a few feet, but you tilt your head upright in defiance, unwilling to back down and grovel for a man who had left you in the lurch; abandoning you when you needed him the most.

A clawed hand drifts from his side, and you flinch when he touches your cheek, tracing his finger down to your jaw. The mists swirling around him recoil, as if waiting in anticipation.

“I’ve missed you.” His voice is a low croak, vibrating through your chest with the strength of his despair.

You shrink back from his touch, the baleful glare on your lips never fading.

“Why? After what you’ve done… after what you did to me…”

“I never intended for you to get caught in the crossfire,” he rumbled, taking one step closer to you. The tendrils of black mist move with him, and you feel them reaching out to you, caressing your arms, your hair.

One of them touches your cheek, and you’re surprised to find it warm and pulsing, as if human blood ran through its dark haze.

The tendril reaches to touch your lips, and those crimson eyes burn through the dark night, remaining steady on you.

“I only wanted to make sure you were safe. That is why I made the deal with Mephisto.”

You shake at the name of that cursed demon who had stolen your lover’s humanity.

“And why should I believe you now?”

Though in his demonic form, there are still bits of his humanity flickering through the amorphous slate of his once face. You can almost see his lips twisting into a frown, the desperation besmirching his brow with a furrow.

“Do you think I would’ve done this—any of this—if it weren’t for you?” Sylus takes one thundering step towards you, close enough for you to reach out and brush his translucent skin. “I love you! I love you so much, my beloved and here you are, boldly claiming I want to destroy you. It is absurd.”

“It is not absurd!” you cry out, raising your fists and slamming them onto his chest. “You took everything away from me! You stole my livelihood, my sanity, my… my family!”

Sylus caught you in time as your strength gives out and you crumple in front of him, tears seeping down your cheeks and staining your frock.

“Our child… you didn’t even search for me when you found out the truth…”

Your hands clench above your hollow belly.

For a palm with such immense size and width, it cups your face gently, bringing his face closer to yours, the love he feels for you desperately trying to bridge the distance.

“I made sure to speak to the underworld lords. Our baby is currently in paradise now, my love. Nothing can hurt her. Her soul is free,” his voice breaks at the reminder of the price he had to pay to protect you and the child you both made out of love. The price of his soul, bartered and bargained for with the devil himself so his human lover would never feel an ounce of pain in her life again.

You shake your head, tears staining the stone floor with dark droplets. “The price is too high, Sylus. It is too much. I should be taking on some of the burden—”

“You will remain in the above world, my love,” he reprimands you without an afterthought. “I will not ask you for much except to continue living as you would if I didn’t exist.”

What’s left of his human conscience aches at the reminder of what he has to say next. “You are free to love, free to get married, have more children if you like… Your freedom has been bought and paid for. You don’t have to suffer anymore, Y/N. It is done.”

He stands after a second of hesitation, but you desperately reach out for him, grasping onto his broad shoulders.

“I can’t live without you.” More tears gloss over your eyes, and you hiccup the truth through quivering lips. “Please. Sylus. There has to be a way we can be together.”

He remains silent, impassive in the face of your desperate plea.

The tendrils hovering around you are softer this time when they reach out to stroke your hair, grazing your cheeks and neck, leaving shivers of heat running up your spine. Effortlessly, like you weigh next to nothing, the wrap around your body, lifting you off the ground.

Your back meets stone, and your hands are tethered above your head by the dark mist, the aching silence too much for you to handle.

“Sylus…”

The sound of his name from your lips will never not be the sweetest thing he’s ever heard.

Despite being dark and imposing in his demonic form, it doesn’t scare you a single bit when he moves closer, face hovering inches from yours. The tendrils now stroke your bare thighs, feeling the tensing of your muscles under his touch, wrapping around your shapely calves to spread them wider.

“Do you trust me?” He whispers, low and inquisitive, filling your parted mouth with his hot breath.

You nod, unable to speak, but the devotion in your eyes never wavers.

“Yes. With all my heart and soul.”

Your soul. Sylus feels the last remaining stronghold of his patience snapping; he has to claim your body as his own.

There is nothing lewd in his touch when he caresses your hips, moving his sweeping palms to your chest as he squeezes your heaving mounds. Sylus’ mouth finds refuge in your neck, kissing a fiery trail up to your jaw as he tastes you with his tongue.

Your whimper fuels his sick need to claim you over and over again until you bear his marks upon your skin. Sylus lets the tendrils do their part in undressing you; those wispy curls slithering underneath the straps of your dress, drawing them down to let him feast his eyes upon your naked chest.

And you take these transgressions he inflicts upon with barely a grimace, encouraging him with soft moans and groans as the snakelike mist curls around your breasts, teasing your nipples to stiff peaks.

Sylus commands the mist to lift you higher, right at his mouth level and he takes his time to savor the taste of your skin—licking your tender nubs, biting down on them and leaving them stinging from the cold and his saliva.

Your abdomen constricts, and he sweeps a hand down the taut line of your body, humming in appreciation. It’s like he can finally see and touch you without any distance between your bodies; despite his sheer size and non-human composition.

For the first time since his perceived betrayal, you’re openly receiving him with your reactions and enthusiasm.

Sylus, you groan his name like it's a mantra.

The tendrils trickle to the split between your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress aside so he can appreciate the bareness of you beyond your inner shift. He doesn’t hesitate to tear off your clothes, hungering to feel your body quivering under his palms. When your bare body is revealed in the gossamer light, he takes a step back, eyes burning from how pure and sacred you look.

Inches of warm flesh, so different from the hardness of his own translucent skin, greets his claws and he takes his time to touch you; memorizing your shape and smoothness in case he may never encounter them in his existence again.

You throw your head back, baring your graceful neck, and his mouth sinks right into the tender skin, working a mark right on your pulse point.

“My love,” he groaned in between kisses. “My love. All mine.”

Your hips begin to twitch, and he takes it as a sign that you’re begging for more attention right where you need him the most.

He may be a demon, but as Sylus sinks to his knees, he feels like a sinner falling at your altar; taking you into his mouth like you’re the only covenant in the world he wants to keep.

Trembles tear through you like an earthquake, and Sylus has to sink his claws in the plush flesh of your thighs to keep you steady.

He runs his tongue over your clit, through your folds, the weeping wetness of your need running down his mouth, his jaw.

The taste of you pumps his veins full of ecstasy.

Your sounds, moans, cries all filling his stone dead heart with a staggering love one will never find in this universe.

Feels so good… you feel amazing…

Your desperate panting and moaning go straight to his fuzzy brain, and your hips are circling and undulating, desperately trying to get yourself off with his mouth.

Sylus doesn’t care. He wants you to use him; wants to be used by you thoroughly.

Those blood red eyes flicker up the length of your body, taking in the tendrils still cruelly teasing your nipples, your quivering thighs and endless streams of moans signaling you’re right at the brink of your pleasure.

Giving your sensitive nub a tender kiss, he rises to his full height, and prepares for the final claiming.

The way your eyes widen when he reveals his cock nearly makes him laugh, and you gasp, flinching back at the sheer size and girth of him.

Close to a foot long, you’ve never seen such… length on an appendage quite like the one Sylus was carrying.

He noticed your gaping stare, the petrified silence, and laughed.

“Don’t worry, my love. I will make sure to prep you very—” he takes one step closer, sinking his claws into your thigh. “—very,” you feel his lips brush underneath your ear, drawing a shiver of heat wracking through your body. “—very well.”

He remained true to his word.

Sylus spent what felt like hours between your thighs, giving your orgasm after orgasm, using his tongue, teeth, claws, and the mist to get you spilling for him until your every pulse wracking through your body was starting to hurt.

Your cries were eventually muffled by the tendrils stuffing your mouth, the cross-eyed expression you wore making it harder for him to deny the need to absolutely claim you with no mercy.

“No more,” your garbled plea reaches his ears, and Sylus leans back on his haunches, staring up at you with a raised brow.

Your exhaustion manifests in the tired droop of your eyes, tugging right on his heartstrings.

“Oh, my. Looks like I’ve tired you out, my love.”

Sylus gathered you in his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. Your head lolls against his broad shoulder, the exertion wearing you out and making you susceptible to his next ploy.

Lifting your hips, he tests the waters by sinking the tip of his tapered cock right into your heat.

Your eyes flutter wide open, a gasp ripping past your lips.

“Sy,” you stammered, and he shushes you.

Pain. A neverending stretch.

Your gasp is fused with panic, and you shake in your bonds, your body seizing.

“N-no… it can’t fit… it can’t…”

“Ssh.” He kisses your tears away, soothing your worries with his palms on your cheeks, thumbs stroking your jaw. “I’ll go slow, my love. I won’t hurt you.”

You hiccup and give a little, teary nod.

Sylus smiled at your adorable surrender, staying true to his promise and taking his time to slowly ease inside of you.

Without much effort, he’s halfway in and you gape, unable to believe you can take all of him in one go.

A mist tendril helps to keep your body keyed up for him, playing with your clit and rubbing the sensitive nub until you begin to shiver and shake.

You clench your hands into fists, unable to break the bonds that hold you fast to the sensations; that tie you down to Sylus.

He nips and licks at your throat, growling under his breath as his cock endeavors to plunge inside of you.

The need to fully bottom out, to have all of him buried inside of you is much too lustful of a temptation to surrender.

Sylus needs to see you struggling to make him fit. He needs to hear you say the words that will give yourself fully to him.

Oh… Sylus… oh gods… gods…

“No gods, my love,” he bites down on your earlobe, drawing a full-body shiver from you. “Just me.”

His crimson eyes glance down to where you’re connected, and he huffs a sound of satisfaction.

“Look at that perfect cunt, my love,” he guides you to look down, enjoying how your eyes widen and your breath falls out in a desperate puff. “She’s taking me so well… you’re taking me so well…”

One more inch, and the ritual will be complete.

Sylus can see the tip of his cock pushing against your stomach, and the idea of him being so deep, so intimately connected with you, makes his heart lurch and the blood rush to his ears.

“Gods!”

Your scream echoed around the pantheon, both a revelry and blasphemy at once.

His grip around your hips tightened, long fingers overlapping around your smaller figure as he waits for you to stop squirming, his jaw set tightly so he doesn't lose control of his urges and unintentionally hurt you.

“Darling,” his warning comes out as a low rumble. “Please, cease your movements. I am barely holding on by a thread.”

Your lachrymose eyes trail upwards to him, and something in his chest tightens at the look of pure trust and devotion you give him.

Tentatively, he shifts his hips forward, giving a gentle thrust to test the waters.

You respond instantly, back arching and hands turning into white-knuckled fists above your head that he thinks you might accidentally snap off your fingers. Your clenched jaw and quivering thighs fuel him to pick up the pace, and soon, the decrepit hall is filled with the sounds of your bodies messily meeting.

Each thrust he gives you makes your belly bulge, the sheer size of him driving you to the brink of madness as your eyes roll back into your skull, your mouth falling open and tongue slightly dangling past your lower lip.

He lives for the blissful look on your face, increasing his movements until he feels that familiar knot tightening deep in his body.

“You feel like a dream, my love,” his whisper lights up the lust-tinged room with a flicker of innocent love—a great divide bridging closer and closer from the power of his devotion to you.

The mists move by his command, pleasuring your erogenous zones—tugging and flicking your nipples, grazing firm circles on your clit.

Sylus needs you to be at the edge with him; needs to have you trust him enough to go off the deep end with someone as corrupted and wicked as himself.

Your choked gasps and stuttering hips bring about a whole new wave of love and fierce protection he feels for you.

Tangling his claws in your hair, he pushes your face up to meet his, devouring your entire being with his soul-sucking kiss.

The earth shakes, the walls tremble, and debris clatters to the ground.

Your orgasm comes as a jagged cry, and you shatter around him for the final time tonight, digging your heels into his broader waist; nearly losing yourself from the sensation of being completely tiny in comparison to him.

Warmth gushes inside of you. At first, you find it familiar—comforting, even.

But, it doesn’t stop.

Sylus keeps spilling inside of you until you hallucinate his taste in the back of your throat—salty, and musky desire.

His hips tremble with the force of his unholy release, snarls and gasps bouncing across the dilapidated walls demonically sinister.

You should be afraid—you knew that.

But, all you can feel in this moment is raging passion for the man who was once your entire world.

The mists release you and you tumble right into his arms, feeling much too small and weak in his massive arms.

Sylus’ demon cock remains hard and unyielding inside of you, and you think you feel him sloshing about in your inner guts.

Your belly is completely swollen, protruding from the copious amount of cum you hold inside of you.

It makes you shiver and keen at the strange yet welcomed sensation. Sylus, mortified, tries to pull himself out of you, but you shake your head, needing to hold him close.

He drags you to the ground, holding you steady in his hulking build, pushing what’s left of his human nose into your hair to take in your musky, sweet scent.

When you straighten to lift yourself from his cock, you wince and gasp at the amount of white that floods from your gaping hole, making you twitch and whine loudly.

Sylus too, groans at the sight, his head thumping back onto the stone floor.

“You will be the death of me, darling.”

His claws gently drag through your hair, and you sigh, leaning into his touch no matter how diabolical it may be.

Silence resounds around two lovers who are simply enjoying each other’s company. You press your head to his chest and he plays with the ends of your hair, content to nuzzle and cuddle you like he used to do when he was still human.

The thought puts a damper on your high, and you exhale, twining your arms around him.

As if he can read your mind, Sylus’ grip on your frailer body tightens—unwilling to let you go.

“Extend your palm,” his hoarse mumble draws you up short, and your look of bewilderment is second only to the confusion when he materializes a ripe pomegranate right into your outstretched hand.

Sylus’ claws wrap around your smaller hand as he curls your fingers around the rotund fruit, reluctant to let you go.

“This is part of our deal,” he rumbled. “Until I can manifest in a pure flesh form, I will come to you in your dreams. Eat this and think of me, my beloved, and I will be with you the very second I hear your call for me.”

You gaze at the fruit in confusion, about to open your mouth and speak when you realize he’s disappearing right in front of your eyes.

“Sylus!”

Your desperate cries mingle with your pained exclamation when you tumble to the hard ground, the warmth and strength of his body no longer under yours. The pomegranate in your hand rolls into a dusty corner, but you turn a blind eye to it—unable to believe he is well and truly gone.

“Sylus,” you begin to sob, clawing at the ground, as if you could dig up the stone flooring and bring him back into your arms.

“Sylus, you promised me! You promised you would never leave… you… you promised…”

You promised…

“...promised…”

Your eyes flutter open in the half-darkness. Tears are drying on your cheeks, soaking the pillow underneath you.

Numbly, you touch your stomach, thinking you can still feel the imprint of him deep inside of you. The sheets are tangled around your legs, and the emptiness yawns like a pertinacious monster inside of you, clawing through your soul till you think you might go mad with need.

“Sylus…”

You feel the shadows stirring, and without warning, his embrace returns to hold you tightly to his chest.

The familiar scent of him, coming back to you after lifetimes apart, destroys what’s left of your self-control.

You sob in his arms like a child, soaking his robe with your tears and sorrow.

Let it out, darling, he whispers in the darkness, those crimson eyes filling with grief and pain, his tears dripping into your hair.

Let it out… let it all out… I’m here… I’m here…

“Sylus,” you gasp, digging your fingers into the soft material of his sleeping robe, as if your touch alone could ensure he never leaves you again. “Sylus… I’m so sorry… I’m so…”

“Ssh,” he cradles you in his arms, rocking you from side to side like how a father might soothe a terrified child. “Oh, darling. There is no need to apologize. There is no need.”

Your shuddering, muffled wails pierce through the quiet night, and his eyes squeeze close, unable to bear the thought of you suffering from the same memories that never ceased to keep him up till dawn.

All Sylus has ever wanted was to protect you, but sometimes, protection comes with knowledge and knowledge is, in his experience, nothing but pain.

“Do you want to talk about this now or shall we wait till morning arrives?”

He wants to give you the choice he never had—a chance to confront your past and shape your future together, releasing himself from centuries of limbo spent navigating uncertainty alone.

But, you shake your head tiredly, a telltale sign of where your headspace was tonight.

“No. Let’s do it in the morning.”

Your arms tighten around him and he implicitly reads your unease and trepidation, letting you curl your body deeper into his embrace.

Sylus pauses for a moment, finding his center in your embrace, knowing that despite the centuries of turmoil you've endured together, come morning, you'll still be by his side.

“Of course,” he whispers, his voice threading through the comforting silence that envelops you both. He gently kisses the top of your head.

“Till morning, then.”

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

dawn says: ngl i teared up writing this </3 goethe's 'faust' will always make me emo because all mans really wanted was to be loved by someone (and amass immense power but ... oh well ...)

i had to review a lot of notes on faust as well as this reddit post for reference in this piece so your reblogs and feedback will be extremely appreciated in return mwah

©️ lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my story, sentence structures and plot lines and claim it as yours. do not recommend and repost my stories on other platforms.

#🦢 writes #sylus x reader #sylus smut #sylus angst #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x you #sylus qin #sylus love and deepspace #sylus l&ds #lads sylus #qin che #sylus #love and deepspace

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