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marril96 · 2 months ago

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Casually Cruel

Chapter 1: Cruel for the Sake of Cruelty

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: set in WandaVision 1.09. After Agatha's defeat, you beg Wanda not to brainwash her.

You'd told her that this was a horrible idea, but Agatha, ever stubborn, refused to listen, and now you were going to lose her, and you were too frightened to even cry about it.

"It'll be fine," she'd assured you, and, like a fool, you'd believed her.

Or rather indulged her for the bad feeling you'd had about this had never waned, no matter how hard you tried to suppress it, or pretended to do so.

The Avenger, Wanda Maximoff, had created a hex of some sort that was insanely powerful. More powerful than anything you'd ever witnessed, and you've been dating Agatha Harkness for two centuries. More powerful than her.

It had, of course, gotten Agatha's attention.

She wanted this power.

And what she wanted, she got. She took.

She was going to do this with or without you, so you decided to come along, just in case. The entire plan reeked of danger, of tragedy; you weren't going to leave her alone if something were to go wrong. You were nowhere near her power level — no one was, or so you'd thought until now — but two witches were better than one.

Taking over some poor guy's house and mind-controlling him wasn't your idea of fun, even if he did have a hilarious name, but what was even less fun was the role Agatha had chosen for you as the two of you had blended into Wanda's weird sitcom universe.

The bratty, mouthy daughter.

"Absolutely not," was the first thing that had come out of your mouth, but she was adamant that that was how things had to be. Since she was fulfilling the nosy neighbor archetype, there wasn't much else to work with. Your choices were to either be her fake daughter or to not leave the house until this whole charade was over.

So, fake daughter, you were.

It took some time for you to pick up on the era-appropriate slang (so many years had passed since; you barely even remembered what you ate for dinner last night, let alone terminology from decades ago), but Agatha was a good teacher. She made sure your act was almost as perfect as hers.

You hated every moment of it, but getting to insult her while you were in character made up for it. You'd found Agnes telling you, in retort to your rudeness, that you're not too old to bend across her knee particularly amusing. That was the highlight of every day here, actually.

Though, usually, it was Agatha bent across your knee instead of the other way around. A barking dog who liked to get bit.

She ended up getting bit for real.

You'd tried to change her mind, tried to convince her it wasn't worth it, hell, had even offered sex in exchange for getting the hell out of here, but she was dead set on getting whatever power it was that Wanda Maximoff had.

Chaos magic, it had turned out.

Wanda Maximoff was the Scarlet Witch.

Agatha was so fucked.

You'd stayed out of the fight. Agatha had assured you she could handle it. All you had ro do was watch and admire her handiwork.

Instead, you almost ended up weeping.

Almost for you didn't dare let any tears fall lest you crumble to pieces right then and there.

Agatha was close to victory, but Wanda had outsmarted her. She had gotten the upper hand and had turned the tables, sucking Agatha dry of all the power she'd amassed over the centuries.

"Good girl," Agatha said as Wanda lowered her to the ground, near where you were standing.

On her knees, she looked pitiful, like a wounded puppy. All you wanted to do was scoop her up and hold her and never let her go. Never let anyone lay a hand on her again.

Yes, she had started the fight, and yes, she hadn't listened to you, but you couldn't be mad at her. Not for long. Not when she was so vulnerable, barely a step above a normal human.

It wasn't right.

It wasn't fair.

You supposed something like this was bound to happen eventually. She was bound to come across one who would wipe the floor with her and make her their bitch. You just didn't think it would happen now.

"So, what now?" Agatha asked, feigning nonchalance. Trying — and failing, desperately so — to put on as brave a face as she could, when you knew for a fact she was a mess on the inside. A mess you'd already started making plans to take care of. "You just gonna lock me up somewhere?"

Over your dead body.

"No. Not somewhere," Wanda said, disgustingly pleased with herself. "Here."

Agatha was confused, as were you. "Here?"

"Mmhmm. I'll give you the role you chose. The nosy neighbor."

Blood ran cold in your veins. She couldn't possibly be saying what you thought she was saying. She wouldn't do that. She couldn't.

She was a hero.

Heroes didn't kick people while they were down.

Heroes weren't cruel.

Agatha was mortified. "No. Please."

Your heart broke at how small, how utterly helpless she was. The Agatha you knew didn't beg. She didn't plead. She wasn't terrified to the bone.

She wasn't powerless.

"I'm sorry," Wanda said, even though she was clearly not.

Agatha called her out on it. "No, you're not. You're cruel."

Wanda ignored her, smirk proudly plastered over her mouth.

And people thought Agatha was a monster.

Unable to watch any further, swallowing the fear, the utmost despair that coiled inside you, you stepped in front of Agatha before Wanda could reach her. Your arms spread wide, covering her. Shielding her. Protecting her, if only momentarily.

"Wanda, please," you said, voice cracking.

Wanda didn't care. "Get out of my way."

A brave tear escaped down your cheek. "Please, don't do this. She's all I have."

"She should have thought of that before she tried to kill me," Wanda said coldly.

"Yes, she should have. She shouldn't have attacked you." She should have fucking listened to you. "That doesn't make doing this to her right."

As an alleged hero, she should know that.

There was defeating an enemy, and then there was torture.

Heroes didn't do that.

Not even you and Agatha did that.

Wanda scowled. "Doesn't it?"

So much for the esteemed hero.

Your eyes pricked with newly blooming tears. Your heart quickened. "Please. I promise you, she won't bother you again. I'll make sure of it."

"What makes you think your promises mean anything to me?"

"They may mean nothing to you, but…" They meant everything to you. To Agatha. "I love her too much to lose her. She knows that. And she knows what's at stake now."

Wanda pondered on it for a moment. "Am I supposed to forget what she did to me?"

You did worse, you thought, but didn't dare say it out loud. She'd enslaved an entire town. Made them live through her nightmares. Stole their children away from them.

Nothing Agatha did to her could compare to the trauma she's inflicted on these people.

"No. You have every right to hate her," you said. "Please, just… don't take her from me. Please."

"You could keep her company here, if you want," Wanda said, threat clear in her voice.

She could brainwash you and Agatha together.

A chill shot through you, straight to the bone. "I've done nothing to you."

"You came here with her." Okay. Fair point. "If you want to stay with her," Wanda continued, "I can arrange that. It's your choice."

"Is that something you want your kids to see? Their mother torturing people?" you asked. Two could play this game.

"Leave my children out of this!" Wanda snapped.

You'd hit a nerve.

"You're involving them by doing this in front of them."

She looked back at her boys, huddled at their father's side.

"You tortured this entire town, and now you want to torture Agatha," you kept on, having gathered your last remnants of courage. Of hope that the woman you loved could still be saved. "With the town, at least it wasn't on purpose." Not from the beginning, anyway. "But doing it to her? That is on purpose."

Wanda turned back to you. Red rimmed her eyes, the same shade as her outfit. Tears threatening to break free.

"No child should see their mother do that," you told her.

Silence befell you as Wanda stared, first at you and then at the ground, lost in thought. Going through your words one by one. Trying to think back a suitable retort, but none were coming to mind.

She knew you were right.

God, you hoped she knew you were right.

You'd promised Agatha, a long time ago, that you would always have her back, and you intended to make good on it. You wouldn't let the Scarlet Witch lay another finger on her — not without a fight.

If she killed you, so be it.

At the very least, Agatha would know you were telling the truth. She would know that you weren't one of the people who would stab her in the back while promising her loyalty.

She would know that she was right to trust you.

Finally, without meeting your gaze, after what seemed like forever, Wanda said, "Get her out of my face."

You gasped. "You mean…?"

"Get her out of here." She looked at Agatha cowering behind you, face contorted with venom. "I better not see you again. You know what's coming if I do."

A relief like you'd never felt before lifted off your shoulders. You were weightless, lighter than a feather.

Wanda was letting Agatha go. The woman you loved was going to be okay.

You'd managed to keep your word.

You didn't let her down.

Not wanting to waste another second, worried that Wanda was going to change her mind, you reached out for Agatha's hand and pulled her to her feet. Your arms were around her before she managed to steady herself, your magic sparkling, blooming from your fingertips. With a swift thought of, Up, you leapt up into the air.

Agatha held on to you like she never had before. For safety. For dear life. Her heart running marathons against your chest.

"It's okay," you told her as you flew higher, higher, higher, as far away as you could from this awful place. From the woman who'd almost taken her from you. "I got you. You're safe."

A circle opened up in the hex, a farewell gift from Wanda for the two of you. The final get-the-fuck-out.

You happily obliged. No hesitation, no looking back.

You never wanted to see her or Westview again.

"Y/N…" Agatha said weakly. Meekly. So unlike her.

A wordless thank you.

It broke your heart.

"I love you. I hope you know that." You nuzzled the crook of her neck. Kissed her hair. "I'd do anything for you."

Even confront an unhinged witch with power alike that of a deity.

Agatha's grip on you tightened. I know, the gesture said. Me, too.

Though, going forwards, it was going to be up to you to make sure the two of you were safe. Until she got at least a tiny fraction of her power back.

You hoped you were up to the challenge.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @miss-moon-guardian @hermslore @uniquelesbianidiot @natashamaximoff1 @alsoknownasmel @swan-queen-is-magic @tardisesandtitans @ahintofchaos

*****

Next chapter.

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #wandavision #marvel #mcu #fanfic #fanfiction #my fics #edit

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lestappenforever · 4 months ago

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I think Max has developed a new level of respect for Charles. Now that he finds himself in a situation that Charles has been in many times, namely a crappy car, an inconsistent team that makes mistakes. I think he has even more realized how talented Charles is to have managed to still be at the top, give good results and save his team despite all that.

Anon, given the amount of time Charles has already struggled with this in Ferrari, I don't think Max's respect for him is anything new. Not to mention the fact that Max also spent several years competing in a car that wasn't exactly performing all that well prior to winning his first WDC in 2021. Max made his F1 debut in 2015, after all, and it's not like he's been dominating since that day. Our favorite Dutchman is quite familiar with the struggles of subpar machinery himself prior to this season.

If there is one driver on the grid - and one person in the world in general - who has always been acutely aware of how exceptionally talented Charles is despite the dreadful machinery, and at times team, he's working with, and who has never once doubted Charles' ability as a driver regardless of results, it's Max. Hell, our boy has been praising Charles to the high heavens since his emotional support rival made it into F1, regardless of how Charles' car and team were performing. So I will have to disagree with you here, because that respect has always been there and I don't think it's anything new for Max at all.

What I do think Max has gained with the issues Red Bull has been experiencing this season, however, is a new level of realizing just how unhinged Charles Leclerc actually is. He has watched that man drag several versions of that red tractor to positions it has had no business being, year after year after year, while also dealing with a team who has lived on nothing but historic glory for 15+ years. He has watched Charles be fueled by but nothing but athletic insanity, rage, unparalleled stubbornness and the love of the Tifosi for years while his biggest (and most favorite, don't even try to fight me on this) rival has made F1 history repeatedly.

If anything, the only new thing Max has developed for Charles this season is that weird kind of fear you only feel towards someone who absolutely terrifies you, while still being the single most attractive and appealling person you have ever met.

#Lestappen #Lestappen asks

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teenidlegirl · 6 months ago

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⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ౨౿ ׅ ۟ ֪ 𝓕eel 𝓨our 𝓗eartlines ۪ ׂ 𓈒 ୭

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀vaquero!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀summary.⠀your family bought a new ranch next door to the o’haras. both families grew acquainted with each other. you and the eldest o’hara brother grow an interesting bond which lead to something more but your father isn’t necessarily fond of.

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀content.⠀rancho!au, neighbors/enemies to lovers, forbidden love, fluff, angst, drama, tension, arguments, jealousy, smut, protected sex (yessir), fingering, truck sex, swearing, pet names, happy ending, hispanic/latina!reader ( mdni )

new start at a new home.

your parents bought a new ranch after selling the old one. it’s been in your family for generations but the time has come for a new home. however, there’s another ranch property next door.

the o’hara ranch.

rumored to be a woman and her two sons. according to your parents, they weren’t opposed to have another ranch near their property. in fact, thrilled to have neighbors. that ranch your parents bought hasn’t occupied in a few years.

the opportunity to meet them is the day you move.

the radiate sun was your enemy. the humid air made the move unbearable. a layer on sweat glistening over your skin from walking back and forth carrying boxes. summer is the worst time to move.

one particular box was a bit heavier than the previous ones you carried. your hand fails to grip it from underneath, causing it to slip out of your hands before another pair of hands catch it in time.

“i got it.”

a rich, baritone voice makes you look up to who it belongs to. your eyes dilate immensely.

a man who towers over you to a insane level. way too tall for the average male. thick brows with a pair of brown eyes. sharpest cheekbones you’ve ever seen on a man, so sharp you’ll get a paper cut if you drag your finger over it. and last, a set of very plump lips.

ay dios, he is handsome.

“cuiadado con eso.”

carlos, your older brother, walks by. “ay tonta, i told you i’ll get it pero no haces caso. gracias, miguel.” he turns to the man standing in from of you.

oh that’s his name.

you just roll your eyes at your brother. face turned to the said to conceal your embarrassment and frustration. cheeks slightly flushed.

“todo bien, carlos. i manage to catch it in time before miss manos de trapo here dropped it.” miguel chuckles, shooting a glance at you for emphasis.

your mouth dropped in offense and he smirks.

what an ass.

well yes, you were dumb to believe you could carry that damn box and should’ve waited for carlos to come get it. you were being stubborn but also trying to help as much as possible.

both men laugh at your reaction.

“cabrones.” you grumble, looking off to the side.

“cuiadao, hermana. don’t be mean to our neighbor.” carlos teases, nudging your shoulder.

you figured this man, miguel, is your neighbor. one of the o’hara brothers. one of the sons.

“well, i don’t think i’m the mean one when he’s talking shit about me with my brother.” you deadpan.

that elicits a chuckle from the said man. “ay chiquita, i’m not being mean. just stating the truth.” a teasing smirk graces his lips.

“no me llamas eso, cabrón.” you glare up at him.

the smirk grew wider. you want to slap it off.

“oh okay! lets get a move on, vale?” carlos clears his throat, sensing the tensions between you and miguel. clearly he didn’t expect this.

you walk away in a sassy manner, not sparing one last glance at your asshole neighbor. what you don’t see is him watching as you leave. brown eyes following your figure before he heads inside the house to put the big box away.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ ┈ ₊ ୧ ┈

it’s been a few weeks since you settled into the new ranch. you’ve grown to adore it. decorating your room was your favorite part. throughout those few weeks, you and your family quickly accustomed.

the only thing you weren’t accustomed to was the weekly visits from your neighbors. your dad, brother and the o’hara brothers been working together with both ranches. your mom and their mom, conchata, have grown to be friends. you don’t mind conchata or gabriel, the younger o’hara brother. the woman seems very nice and caring. she adores her two boys with all her heart. very determined and resilient woman. her husband died when the boys were young so she raised them on her own since. an admirable woman. gabriel is such a sweetheart, completely different from miguel. you first met him and he was very polite but also a big flirt. you like him more.

miguel, the o’hara sibling you dislike. ever since he started working with your dad and brother, you practically see him everyday. his large frame catching your eye form the window or porch. luckily, there hasn’t been many encounters other than quickly glances and smirks. he’s too busy working to talk to you and you prefer it that way.

however, you can’t deny observing him from afar as he worked outside. always wearing a pair of blue jeans con sus botas. switches between black, white or gray shirts that hug his muscles a little too tight. so tight you can see the outline of his abs. so tight on the sleeves his biceps are on display, those hairy muscular arms. flexing whenever he grabs or works on something. you’ve noticed la virgencita hanging around his neck when he passed by you at the ranch one day. he also wears either black or tan hat. when he takes it off, those messy brown curls are revealed. you bite your lip when he runs a hand through those curls then quietly curse to yourself when you catch yourself in the act. you hate him, not like him.

seeing that stupid smirk on his face when he notices you makes your body ignite on fire. brows furrowed and hands balled into fists while your heart beats like crazy. his entire existence makes your skin crawl. you’ve only met the guy for a few weeks and you despise him. he drives you fucking insane.

why do you wear the cutest outfits when he’s there? why do you apply extra perfume when he’s there? why do you check your breath a million times when he’s there? why do you keep doing these things?

he’s driving you fucking crazy.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ ┈ ₊ ୧ ┈

as you exit your room and step foot into the kitchen, your mother asks if you’ll take fresh lemonade for the men. part of your wanted to rip your hair out because you know you’ll run into miguel. as the obedient girl you are and know not to argue with your mother, you make the lemonade and take it outside.

carrying the tray of four lemonades, you walk over to the ranch. as you approach the table, you notice miguel at the stables from across. you were lost in trance as he maneuvered with the horse he was dealing with. quickly blinking, you snap out of it and place down the tray of lemonade. the family dog lola, a german shepherd, comes to your side. you happily pet her, smiling her happy face and wagging tail.

“nice to see you again, chiquita.”

the smile on your face vanishes and is replaced with a irritated look. slowly turning around, you see miguel standing in the opposite side of the table.

damn how the fuck did he get here so fast? he was literally just at the stables a few seconds ago.

“i said don’t call me that, cabrón.” you scowl.

“ay no hagas asi, hermosa. you love it when i call you that.” the bastard smirks as he drinks his lemonade.

“you’re so fucking annoying.” you spit. “rude and never listens. i applaud your mother for putting up with your stupidity.” you look away, arms crossed.

you don’t see his smirk falters a little. “hermosa, i’m not being rude or trying to be. it’s just teasing.” he sound a bit serious but you don’t buy it.

“whatever.” you roll your eyes. “vamos, lola.” you tap your thigh to signal her to follow you back to the house, which she did with her tail wagging happily.

a pair of brown eyes follow you, watching you leave. you fail to see the slight slump on his shoulders. miguel sighs before taking a another sip of the delicious lemon then heads off to join the others.

you and miguel both fail to see a third set of eyes form afar. a light, skeptical frown settles on your dad’s face as he witnessed the interaction. he can sense the tension and it didn’t sit right with him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ ┈ ₊ ୧ ┈

one evening, your parents decide to host a carne asada for family and friends. that also means the o’haras were invited, meaning miguel was invited.

oh you wanted to die.

but family members and friends would be there so you’ll be distracted with them. as long as you stay away from miguel, you’ll be fine.

after a fresh long shower, you wear a cute gingham dress con tus botas blancos. you add a few small white bow clips in your hair as accessories to feel more cute. makeup and hair done.

the background is filled with people, relatives and friends. loud music playing from the speaker. food on the table ready to be served. oh the delicious smell consumes your senses, making your tummy growl. you grab yourself a plate of food then venture off to meet up with your cousins. it’s been a while since you’ve seen them so you wanna catch up.

after finishing your food, “la chona” starts playing and everyone goes berserk. once you throw away your empty plate, you and your cousins rush to the dance floor along with everyone else and dance.

while dancing, a young man approaches you with a gentle smile. he’s introduced as javier, son of one of your father’s friends. tall, dark brunette, quite fit but not too much, sweet and handsome. you two dance together as you talk and occasionally flirt. apparently, he’s a comedian because he’s been making you laugh every time he tells a joke or funny stories.

what you fail to notice from afar is a pair of brown angry eyes. watching your every move the entire evening. miguel never took his eyes off of you, only when someone was speaking directly to him. the minute you stepped foot into the backyard, his pupils dilated and heart raced in his chest. how gorgeous you look that cute dress and tus botas. watching you dance for a bit finally gave him the courage to join you until that idiot waltzed in. his grip on his moledo tightened when javier wraps an arm around your waist and pull you closer towards him. his grip was so tight, miguel almost broke it in his fucking hand. a sting of jealousy and slight possessiveness bubbles in his chest. a huge frown on his face. oh he is pissed the fuck off. he didn’t like this encounter one bit.

after drinking lots of water and jamaica (drink), nature calls. quickly telling javier you’ll be back, you make a beeline for the house then the bathroom upstairs. luckily, no one’s in the house so it’s empty inside. after doing your business and washing your hands, you fix your appearance. detangling your hair and patting down any creases on your dress.

a subtle knock on the door makes you jump a little. “just give me a minute!” you call out nervously.

it truly caught you off guard. there’s a bathroom downstairs but perhaps it’s occupied too. there’s the master bathroom but supposed people don’t want to invade your parents’ privacy.

you finish fixing your appearance so the next person doesn’t have to keep waiting. just as you unlock and open the door, a gasp left your lips.

“miguel? what the fuck?”

the man stands before you. however, his sour expression captures your attention. you don’t have time to say anything else when he silently enters the bathroom, causing you to step back. he close the door behind him, his gaze never leaves yours. anxiety consumes your body at the sudden proximity. the hallway bathroom is quite small, leaving barely any room left for you to step back.

“miguel, what the fuck are you doing?”

“you seem having fun tonight.”

your brows furrowed. “it’s a party, of course i’m having fun.” you cross your arms.

“a little too much fun.” he takes one step closer.

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“ese pinche huevón who’s been probably telling you shitty jokes or whatever.” he takes another step.

javier. why the hell is he talking about him?

“you’re spying on me?! what the fuck, miguel? what’s wrong with you? what’s your problem?”

“my problem?” miguel’s frown deepens. “that fucking idiot had the fucking nerve to come up to you, dance and flirt with you like that.” he takes a step closer with each phrase.

you flinch when your back hits the wall. now miguel stands right in front of you. bodies merely touching, barely any space between you two. his hot breath hitting your face, or forehead due to the height difference. you have to crane your neck all the way up just to meet his gazes. your heart pounds in anticipation, lashes fluttering.

holy shit, he’s jealous.

“so you’re telling you have a thing for me this entire and decided to wait until i was with another guy?” you were half assumed and surprised.

his pissed off demeanor falters a little, softening up a bit. “y-yes…” miguel admits shamelessly, broad shoulders slumped a little. “i wanted to tell you but you hate me so much and refused to talk to me so i didn’t really have the perfect chance.”

you huff, shaking your head. “of course i hate you because you’re a fucking asshole. always throwing smartass remarks or insults at me.”

“i wasn’t insulting you, or at least i wasn’t my intention.” miguel frowns. “i was teasing because i like you, chiquita.” he said softly.

oh your heart did a summersault.

“seriously?” you were surprised wholeheartedly.

miguel scoffs, rolling his eyes with a smile. “que si, tonta. i’ve liked you since the moment i met you, catching that big box you almost dropped.”

you cringe at the memory. if only you knew how stupid you looked carrying that big ass heavy box. if only you knew he was watching.

“and i know you like me too.” miguel leans closer.

“it’s a mixture of infatuation and hatred.”

“see, infatuation.” he smirks smugly.

“don’t push it, cabrón.” you glare at him.

miguel lowly chuckles, amused by your sassy attitude. his eyes drop to your lips. glossy and begging for his. “do you know how many times i wanted to kiss those pretty lips but knew i couldn’t?”

your heart flutter at that confession. you wanted to say the same about his lips or wished he did kiss you but you decide to tease him.

“that’s too bad you couldn’t.” you fake pout, tilting your head in a teasing manner. “i was thinking the same with javi.” a smirk graces your lips.

you watch his brows furrowed immediately. that seductive look replaced with a pissed off one. his jaw clenches at the name of that guy.

damn, jealous looks so good on him.

“he’s so sweet and very attractive. a great dancer and has very kissable lips.” your smirk grows smugly.

there was no time to reaction when miguel grabs the back of your head, pulls you against him and smashes his lips on yours. you can’t resist smiling at his eagerness as you both endure in a messy makeout session. his lips devour yours with such hunger, basically eating your face off.

your arms reach up to his shoulders and wrap around them, standing on your tippy toes due to the height difference. miguel’s back is slightly bent so he can reach you but doesn’t give a shit if it hurts. both his hands travel down to your waist and pull you closer so there isn’t any space left between you two.

broad hands roam over your back, groping each curve. you melt under his addictive touch, becoming putty in his hold. you gasp when he lifts you up in his arms, grabbing the back of your thighs. your grip on his shoulders tighten instinctively. miguel plants you on the sink and settles himself in between your legs.

his lips trail down to your jawline then in the crook of your neck. you dig your fingers into his brown curls while the other hand wrapped around his thick neck. your eyes closed, relishing those kisses on your neck. a gasp left your lips when you feel his lips sucking that sensitive spot on your neck.

his hands fiddle with the top strings of your dress that conceals your breasts. after leaving a mark on your neck, which he smiles satisfyingly at, miguel trails down to your chest. he quickly glances at you for approval and you eagerly nod. untying the strings, miguel dives into your cleavage. leaving hot open-mouth kisses on the soft skin. his hands cupping and kneading your breasts. a soft moan escapes your lips at the sensation. throwing your head back, resting against the mirror. you take off his hat so you can play with his hair, tossing it on the toilet seat. he kisses, licks, and kneads your covered breasts with such desire and affection. he lets out a muffled groan when your fingers tug on his hair.

miguel moves down your body, leaving a trail of adoring kisses on the fabric of your dress. grinning at how your body sweetly responds to him. just as he reaches down to the one place where you desperately want him, he moves away and stands up.

“aww…” miguel mischievously chuckles at your pout and pissed off expression. “you thought you’d get what you want, huh bebita?” he brings a hand to your chin and lightly tilts it upward to meet his eyes.

“asshole.” you scowl, swatting his hand away.

“ay bebita, no hagas asi.” he taunts with a head tilt. “you were drooling about that huevón a few seconds ago. don’t you want him?”

you glare at him and he laughs, completely unbothered by it. oh you want to slap that stupid smirk off his devilish handsome face.

“es la verdad, hermosa. don’t you want him here instead of me?” his fingers lightly brush against your exposed thigh, sending jolts of excitement through your body. the hem of your dress scrunched up a bit.

you know he knows the answer. of course he’s fucking teasing you about this.

“i’m going to rip your balls off.” you threaten.

the bastard chuckles. “i don’t think you wanna do that if you want me.” very slowly, his fingers trail up your thigh, more towards your inner thigh. he chuckles again when your legs twitch at his touch.

“fine, fuck this shit.” you move to jump off the counter but his hands firmly hold you in place.

“ay bebita, you’re so stubborn.” miguel coos, gently tracing your cheek with the back of his index finger. “i’ll give you what you want—“

“ay no me jodas, miguel! just fucking touch me.” grabbing the back of his neck, you yank him towards you and smash your lips on his.

the movement caught him by surprise but indulges in it. his fingers trail up your inner thigh, sliding under your dress. you softly gasp when you feel his fingers gently rubbing your cunt through your panties.

“fuck— estas mojada, bebita.” miguel groans at the feeling of your soaked panties, all because of him. the pad of his fingers rubbing your covered pussy lips. he feels himself grow hard in his jeans.

his fingers slyly slide under your panties and play with your little cunt. a soft moan leaves your lips when he rubs your throbbing clit. fingers rubbing and flicking almost experimentally.

“you want me?” he whispers against your lips as his continues playing with your clit.

“fuck, yes~” you moan, cupping his face.

your lips collided again in a heated kiss as miguel slowly slides in two fingers in your pretty little pussy. you moan a bit louder in pitch at the sensitive before his other hand covers your mouth.

“as much as i want to hear those pretty sounds, can’t let anyone hear.” miguel whispers, a mix of seductiveness and sincerity. the last thing he wants is getting caught in your house.

he pumps his fingers at a slow pace. endless moans falling from your lips but muffled. fuck his fingers are so thick and long. they feel so fucking good.

“fuck, so tight, bebita.” he groans when your walls clench around his fingers. “driving me fucking insane, how you clench around my fingers like that.”

his fingers soon pick up pace. thrusting in and out of your tight cunt. instinctively, you roll your hips to meet his thrusts. desperate for more. miguel buried his face in the crook of your neck as he continues fingering you. you have one arm wrapped around his shoulders while leaning on the other, gripping the ledge of the counter for dear life.

you squeal when his thumb flickers your puffy clit as his two fingers continue pumping into you. your walls clench harder around his fingers.

“you’re gonna forget about that pinche huevón and think about me, si hermosa?” he asks, lips against your ear. “porque you want me, verdad? because i want you.” he states wholeheartedly.

you nod while being a babbling and moaning mess. miguel leaves kisses on your neck as he keeps pumping his fingers into you. with a few more flicks to your clit, you come with a muffed moan. gushing over his fingers, coating them in your sweetness.

very slowly, he slides out his fingers from your now sensitive pussy. you lean back against the mirror as you try catching your breath and recover from your high but his hand on your waist prevents you from slumping completely. miguel examines his two fingers glistening in your sweet nectar. two clear strings connect between them as he spreads them apart. he brings them up to his lips, licking off your sweetness. a moan of satisfaction.

“sweet, just like i imagined.” he hums contently.

grabbing a few sheets of toilet paper, miguel gently cleans up the mess in between your thighs.

“you okay?” he asks sincerely, tossing the toilet paper in the trash while his free hand gently moves away strings of hair from your face.

“yeah, never better.” you let out a weak laugh.

miguel smiles at your cute little laugh then gently kisses you, which you happily reciprocate. one hand cupping your cheek and the other on your thigh.

a ding! from your phone breaks the kiss. grabbing it next to you and looking at the screen, you see a text from your mom asking your whereabouts.

“gotta go before my mom flips out.” you chuckle.

“understandable.” miguel chuckles with you as he gently lifts you off the counter by the waist and carefully sets you on your feet.

you quickly glance down at your phone then at the huge bulge in his jeans. “sorry…” you shoot him an apologetic look.

miguel shakes his head with a soft smile. “no te procupes, bebita. maybe next time.” he winks as he helps you fix your dress.

you swat his arm and he laughs as you both exit the bathroom to rejoin the party.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ ┈ ₊ ୧ ┈

a forbidden romance between you and miguel blossomed. however, there were suspicions. conchata knew the minute she caught miguel staring at you from afar numerous times. it makes her smile to see her son falling in love. she knows you’re a good woman and treats you like her own. you’re perfect for her son. gabriel knows as well, he has seen the intense encounters between you and miguel. arguing and brickering but also longing gazes when one isn’t looking. he would give miguel shit and tease him all the time. suppose all that teasing finally paid off.

your mom is like conchata and every other mother. adored to see her daughter falling in love despite the tension between you and miguel. carlos was skeptical at first but accepts it because he knows miguel is a good man. your father, on the other hand, isn’t too thrilled of the idea. it’s not that miguel isn’t a good person but because he’s a known womanizer. your dad has seen the various women swinging by miguel, flirting and battering their lashes at him. he doesn’t want you to fall victim into lies. that’s why he’s been a bit harsh towards miguel lately.

although you’re unaware of everyone’s suspicions, you and miguel keep it very secretive. sneaking off to secluded places like the stables. have heavy makeout sessions, miguel fingering you. unfortunately, things couldn’t get spicer without almost getting caught or someone calling your name.

one day when your parents were gone into town, miguel sneaked you into his truck. he parked in a secluded area on the outskirts of the ranch.

“miguel, we can’t do this. what if they’re looking for us?” you can’t resist giggling as his lips leave butterfly kisses along your neck. you sit on his lap, straddling him in the backseat of his truck. both of you shirtless, you remain in your bra.

“your parents are out and won’t be back for a while. besides, gabriel and carlos got us covered.” his large hands roam over your body.

“miguel!” you swat his shoulder, giggling.

“¿que paso, bebita? they’ll let us know when your parents come back, lo prometo.” he continues those kisses among your neck.

you sigh softly, trusting him with your heart. you grow putty in his hold like always. his large lands roaming your body. your lips meet in a passionate kiss. your hands cupping his face. the tips of his fingers fiddle with the hem of your white skirt. you assume he wants to do the usual but the pleading look in those browns eyes say otherwise.

“do you… do you wanna do this?” he asks anxiously, eyes boring into yours.

you know immediately what he’s asking.

“yes.” you nod sincerely, caressing his cheeks.

“are you sure? i don’t wanna pressure you.”

your heart melts at his caring words. “si, bebito. i trust you and i want this.” you wrap your arms around his thick neck. “i want you.”

fuck. that’s all he needs to hear before worshipping the goddess you are. miguel captures your lips in another kiss. his fingers slide underneath your skirt not only to make you cum first but also to prep you.

after making you cum over his fingers twice, you were prepped enough. miguel hurriedly reaches a hand in his front pocket and pulls out a condom. he rips the tiny packet with his teeth. the sight makes you bite your lip. you follow suit by lifting up your skirt as he yanks out his aching cock from its confinements. the tip angry and red, desperate to be inside you. he rolls the condom over his cock. a shared moan mingles in the air as you slowly sink onto his cock. you grip tightly on his shoulders as support. his own gripping your hips.

“breathe, bebita.” he advises in a soft tone.

fuck he’s so big. when you first got a glimpse of it, you believed it was impossible for it to fit. of course it’ll be hard to take him. his soothing rubs on your thighs relaxes you a little as you try adjusting to his size. any “stop” or “wait” convinced him to pull out but you told him. just need time to adjust.

once you had time to adjust, you couldn’t hold back a moan at the feeing of being utterly full. he’s so deep inside, you can feel him in your tummy.

you both moan in unison as you slowly roll your hips. you move up and down in a slow pace, riding his cock. fuck he feels so amazing.

“fuck— asi, bebita. ride me.” he praises so sweetly.

you oblige, riding him. you didn’t save a horse but you’ll definitely ride a cowboy.

miguel soon picks up the pace due to your pleading for him to go faster. rolling his hips to meet yours. hands gripping your hips, your skirt brunched up in his fingers as his cock pounds into your tight little cunt. moans and groans mingles in the steamy air. the windows begin to fog up. miguel throws his head back against the seat, relishing the feeling of your pussy squeezing the life out of his cock. he’s practically going insane at the sensation.

self-resistance flies out the window as miguel quickly turns you both over. you lie down on the seat and he hovers above you as miguel continues thrusting into you. your hands grip onto his back, nails leaving scratch marks and crescent indents, eliciting a groan from the man above you. miguel doesn’t give a shit. in fact, he loves the idea of seeing your scratch marks when looking at his reflection. it’s a reminder of you and your love for him.

due to his rough thrusts, the truck shakes. luckily, the area is secluded. miguel groans when your fluttering walls clench around his thick length.

“shit— you clenching like that is driving me insane, bebita.” miguel moans.

you can’t even response since you’re a babbling mess underneath him. the bulbous tip of his cock repeatedly hits your cervix, making you arch your back off the seat like waves.

miguel can’t help but smirk at your trembling form. brows scrunched up and mouth letting out the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard. a literal angel underneath him. one hand reaches down in between your bodies and flickers your puffy clit. you let out a squeal at the sudden sensation, arching your back off the seat for the millionth time.

“let go, mi vida. i got you.” he coos in your ear.

with a few more flicks to your clit, you come with a loud cry of his name. coating his condom covered cock with your sweetness. oh that sight is forever imbedded in his mind. how beautifully you sang out his name as you each the pinnacle of ecstasy.

miguel soon followed suit. his hips stutter before letting out a groan as he releases thick hot ropes of cum into the condom. secretly wishing it was your pussy but protection comes first. his thrusts slow down, riding out both your highs before stopping. he buries his face beside yours, panting against your ear as you both recover from your highs.

after a few minutes of recovery, miguel lifts up onto his elbows and looks down at you. “you okay? did i hurt you?” he voice his concerns, gently moving away strings of hair sticked to your forehead.

“no.” you shake your head. “i’m okay.”

he softly smiles at your answer. worries washed away. leaning closer, miguel captures your lips in soft, gentle kiss. “té quiero.”

“té quiero.” you softly smile at him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ ┈ ₊ ୧ ┈

your parents decide to head to town again to buy some stuff. carlos left to meet up with some chick he met at a bailé the other night. that means you’re left alone, which also means miguel comes over.

you both makeout on your bed. hands roaming each other’s bodies. a soft sigh escapes your lips as you feel his lips pepper your neck with kisses, playing with his hair. that’s going to be the hundredth hickey he has left on you. the amount of concealer you applied on the dark mark so your family doesn’t notice says a lot. neck, breasts, inner thighs. marking you endlessly and making you feel like a dalmatian.

“que linda eres.” miguel mumbled against your soft skin, lips peppering adoring kisses.

a gasp leaves your lips as you feel large hands squeezing your breasts. “miguel~ my parents will be back soon.” you whine then followed by a giggle, tugging on his curls to gain his attention.

“the marketplace is packed. they’ll be gone for a while so we have time.” he kisses your worries away.

you softly sigh as miguel travels down to your breasts and makes out with them. calloused hands kneading them through your dress.

“my favorite pillows.” miguel mumbled between kisses and licks on the soft mounds. his fingers spread the opening of the top of your dress to gain more access to your cleavage.

“you act like they don’t hurt because of your big ass head.” you deadpan, still playing with his hair.

“well, that’s why i massage them.”

you can’t see him from this angle but you know he has the biggest smirk on his face. the thought makes you lightly slap his head, earning a chuckle from him.

those adoring kisses trail down to your tummy then back up your body towards your face before your lips collide once again. as his hand slwoly trails down towards your inner thigh, scrunching up the hem of your dress, the sound of the door opening cause you both to jump in surprised. miguel hurriedly lifts off from the bed. your eyes land at the opened door to find your parents with shocked expressions. your father face is red of anger, profoundly pissed off.

“te mato.” he glares towards miguel. fists fidgeting at his sides but never makes a move.

“papá, pro favor—“

“no me hablas.” he points a finger at you, sending the same glare then looks back at miguel. “i trusted you with this ranch. with this home and you betrayed that with taking an advantage con mi hija.”

“papá, no! please—“

“señor, i’ve never took advantage of your daughter or your trust. i respect and love your daughter with everything.” miguel defends himself.

you watch your father’s eyes narrow at miguel’s words. “you don’t truly love my daughter if you allow other women to chase after you.”

both yours and miguel’s heart drop at that accusation. anxiety invades your body. you whip your head at miguel with a shocking expression. he meets your gaze with the same expression but also a look of hurt. your heart breaks at the sight. you know it isn’t true but your heart says otherwise.

miguel looks at you with remorseful eyes then looks back at your father. “pro favor, señor. none of those rumors are true. i walk away from those women, they never leave me alone. the only woman i want is your daughter.” he states sincerely.

a pregnant pause fills the room. the tension lingers in the air. you watch as your father exhales heavily then takes a step towards miguel.

“you’re banned from this house and ranch.” he states through gritted teeth. “and you’re banned from speaking to my daughter. if i ever catch you near her, té mato. entiendes?”

miguel briefly looks down with a frown. shoulders slumped in defeat and frustration. much to your and his dismay, he agrees with a nod. your heart breaks, tears swelling in your eyes. grabbing his hat from the bed, miguel shoots a brief sad glance at you before exiting your bedroom, walking past your parents.

“y tú…” your father turns to you. “you don’t leave this house.” and with that, he walks away.

you collapse on the floor and break down into tears. the wall broke and the waterfall fell. your mother swiftly comes to your aid and pulls you into a tight, comforting embrace. you weep into her shoulder as you cry out your broken heart.

two hearts broke that day.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ ┈ ₊ ୧ ┈

she knew something happened.

the minute her eldest stepped foot into the house and stomped his way upstairs to his room without greeting her meant something was wrong. conchata knows her children well like most mothers do. she has her assumptions but rather know the truth.

with a sigh, she placed down the knife and heads upstairs to consult with her eldest son. she leaves a subtle knock on the door.

“mijo? estas bien?” she knew he wasn’t but she hopes he’ll allow her entry.

no answer.

she frowns but her concern increases. “mijo, if there’s something wrong, you can tell me.”

footsteps past by behind her. turning around, she sees her youngest walking by.

“do you know what’s wrong con tú hermano?”

he shakes his head. “no, he walked passed me at the ranch without saying anything.”

she frowns once again as gabriel heads towards the bathroom. glancing back at the door, she lets out another sad sigh before walking away.

later that evening, miguel finally makes his appearance. as she prepares the table with food, conchata noticed her son walking in.

“mijo, qué paso? did something happen?”

he remains silent but helps her with preparing the table. his face lacks of emotion, or at least lacks of his normal content self. mouth flat and tired eyes.

“miguel, por favor, dijeme.” the woman pleads. “is this about her?”

now he finally speaks.

“i’m banned from their ranch.”

conchata’s heart stops for a moment. “banned? como?” she sounds in disbelief but also concern.

his head hangs low, refusing to meet her gaze. “su papá doesn’t approve of me.”

now she feels heart drop. “doesn’t approve you? como que he doesn’t approve my son? you’ve worked so hard helping him at his ranch. he has lost his damn mind ese pinche cabrón.”

“he doesn’t approve me para su hija!”

now conchata is speechless but still in disbelief. “pero… you like each other…”

“pues el no le gusta porque he thinks i flirt with lots of women and believes i took an advantage of his daughter. believes i don’t love her.”

fury boils in her blood for your father to say such vile things about her son. but also heartbroken to see miguel so upset. she’s aware of his unpleasant encounters with idiot women so throw themselves at him, making him feel uncomfortable. it makes her want to give putasos con la chancla for bothering her son. she also feels for you too. understanding the dealing with heartbreak. of course someone gets in the way of true love. always a misunderstanding.

“ese cabrón knows nothing of my son.” she states firmly. “i know my own son and he’s nothing like those pinches mentiras. you’re a good man and have a good heart. i know you love her and she loves you. as much as i want to go beat that man con la chancla,” that elicits a chuckle from miguel. “i don’t want bloodshed between families because they’re good people and have been kind to us.”

the tension eases a bit on his shoulders. pleased to hear his mother’s supportive words.

“i know heartbreak isn’t easy, mijo… pero she’s a smart girl and she, and su mamá, will talk some sense into that man. it may take some time but don’t give up hope, her.” she gently takes his hands in hers.

the corners of his lips curl up into a soft smile. “yo sé, gracias mamá.” he pulls her into an embrace.

“siempre, mijo.” she hugs him back.

miguel wasn’t giving up on you. no, never. all he wants in his life is you. he’s willing to do whatever it takes to show his love for you. hoping it’ll change your father’s mind about your relationship.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ ┈ ₊ ୧ ┈

you don’t even know what day it is. you’ve been cooped up in your room since you’re not allow to leave the house. each day has been filled with tears and anger. tears stains on your pillows are proof of the heartbreak. your mom had to change them twice because of your mascara stains on them. anger boiling in your veins. pissed off at your father’s insane behavior about this shitshow. your mom and carlos have been comforting you. your mom soothing your broken heart with hugs and forehead kisses. carlos also gives hugs and tells his stupid ass jokes.

your father hasn’t spared a glance at you since the argument, as if you don’t exist. it hurts since you’ve always been his little girl. it hurts he disrespected miguel with those hurtful lies. it hurts he stripped your experience of love away from you.

besides moping and crying, the only things keeping you occupied is watching tv, scroll on your phone, draw or paint, listen to music, and sleep. your dad really meant not leaving the house because you can’t even visit the stables to greet the horses. your only source of happiness during this period of misery and imprisonment is lola. she’ll join you on the bed when you take naps. play with her, tossing toys at her.

it’s just been so fucking miserable.

the only chance you’ll get to see miguel is whenever he’s outside. you sit by your window and observe him working on his family ranch. you know he knows you’re watching him. god you miss him so fucking much. his kisses, his hugs, his voice, his hands.

you can’t text or call him since your dad deleted his contact off your phone when you left your phone in room behind when you visited the kitchen one day. at least he didn’t delete gabriel’s so you had some type of method to keep in contact with miguel. you’ll text gabriel, asking how his brother is doing. upset and frustrated were what you were expecting.

the love of your life stripped away from your heart by the hands of your father. how fucking sad that is.

you want to make him understand but the man is stubborn as hell and believes his opinion is the only relevant opinion. you understand your mom’s frustration with your dad after years of marriage.

you need to make him understand.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

your growling tummy sends you downstairs to retrieve a snack. heading for the kitchen, you see your parents talking. your mom preparing for tonight’s dinner while your dad drinks a glass of water. he must’ve returned from the ranch.

a wave of determination courses through your veins. you’re fed up with this nonsense and imprisonment. he has to respect your wishes and life. although you’re his youngest and only daughter, you’re a grown woman. you have your own goals, wishes, desires for your life. he can’t strip that away from you. this is your life and he needs to understand.

“papá.” you stand near the kitchen island.

the man turns around and sees you. a frown settles on his face. “¿qué quieres?”

your fists tightened. “this needs to stop.”

his frown deepens. “ya te dije que no.”

“this is ridiculous!” you exclaim with your hands in the air. “you can’t ground me for falling in love! especially with someone who’s a good person!”

“he is not a good person.” he sets the now empty glass of water down on the counter with a bit of aggressiveness. luckily it didn’t break. “ese huevón flirts with a bunch of women behind your back. you can’t love someone if they lie to you.”

“he doesn’t flirt with them, papá! those women flirt with him!” you cry, making him go silent. “they throw themselves at him and it makes him uncomfortable. women twice his age! he tries to be polite and tell them he’s not interested. he already told me about this.” a thin layer of tears forms up in your eyes. “he said he’ll never betray me, never break my heart because he loves me, papí.”

your father only remained speechless. your mother too, who stopped cooking since you spoke.

“being with miguel, i’ve never been so happy. he makes me so happy.” you smile sadly. “yours and mom’s relationship is what i’ve been seeking for. being together for many years, spending the rest of your lives together. i found that with miguel. he’s the one i want to spend the rest of my life with.”

a sorrowful look in his eyes. your mom is on the verge of tears, happy tears of course. she couldn’t be more proud of you, defending yourself and miguel.

“please don’t take that away from me.”

the crack in your voice makes him wince. the anger now vanished, replaced with sorrow and regret. seeing his little girl on the verge of tears breaks his heart into a million pieces like any other parent.

“i… lo siento, mi cielo.” he covers his mouth with a hand. sighing as regret plagues his body. “i’m so sorry… i didn’t mean…” the next few words died when he feels you arms around his body, embracing him.

“yo sé, papí. yo sé.” you whisper.

he accepts your embrace, not wasting a second. “i was just protecting you from heartbreak. i couldn’t bare to you see like that.”

“i know.” you sniffed, smiling a little.

“but i was wrong about him… ay dios, all those things i said. now what you told me…”

“he’ll forgive you.” you pull away, softly smiling. “miguel knows you were protecting me.”

he nods sadly. “still, i need to apologize to him. lo siento mucho, mija.”

“it’s okay, papí. thank you.” you hug him one last time before your mothers joins you both.

it was going to be okay.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ ┈ ₊ ୧ ┈

your father apologized to miguel. he immediately accepted because he understood your father’s reasons. the apology concluded with a hand shake before your dad pulls miguel into an embrace. everyone was pleased the shitshow was over. conchata also accepted your father’s apology. no bloodshed was made. just two happy families.

the words “son-in-law” accidentally slipped through your dad’s lips and it made you and miguel flustered a little. it was pleasing to know your dad was envisioning a future of the family including miguel.

afterwards, you and miguel finally pursue this relationship without fear. opened to the world.

riding in his truck, you drive to the beach. windows down and the hot summer breeze flowing through your hair. parked in the same secluded spot from previous times, you and miguel share a little intimate moment. lips connected in a passionate kiss.

with one final kiss, miguel sucking your bottom lip, he slowly pulls away to admire you. eyes filled with adoration, simply and only for you.

“té quiero tanto, mi alma.”

you softly smile. “té quiero tanto, mi vaquero.”

little did you know five years later you and miguel would have a ranch and family of your own. a daughter who’s an exact replica of her father. like your parents, you and miguel spend the rest of your lives together. like true soulmates.

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀note.⠀this is probably one of best fics i’ve written imo. holy shit the creative flow was flowing with this, lowkey proud of it. this is most definitely one of my favorites.

#⠀⠀૮ ྀི ◞ ◟ ა⠀˚⠀.⠀𝒪𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡⠀ ྀ⠀.⠀♡⠀#miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #across the spiderverse

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merakiui · 4 months ago

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omg omg idk if you’ve ever read this doujin oneshot before,,, n i sadly don’t remember the name anymore (ó﹏ò｡)

BUTTT in a nutshell : a young woman is stopped by some strange man who confuses her for his childhood pet bunny n is later kidnapped by said strange man where he drugs her n forces her to be his sexual pet,, (⚠️ SPOILER : he succeeds in mind breaking her by the end)

one scene in particular caught my attention n it was when the protag manages to escape thru the window while the man is distracted but is quickly tranquilized before she actually gets past the gates. she wakes up the next day unable to move her legs n the man reveals that he had her achilles tendon cut,, permanently paralyzing her

that man was js so ROOK-CODED !! >///< the whole bunny motif, breeding kink, his obsessive ramblings, how he imprisoned the protag n did everything for her, being insanely pretty n rich,,, HELL EVEN THE SAME HAIRCUT

maybe the only diff being that rook doesn’t mind chasing whereas the guy REALLY didn’t tolerate escape attempts

i’m curious if you ever read it before n would love to hear your thoughts on the same concept w rook (,,>ヮ<,,) !

btw how was your day? <3

- 🪄 anon

Σ(°ロ°) I know exactly what doujin you're referring to!! It's My Sweet Bunny Cage! I read it after an anon suggested it to me a while back. :D I've also read The Neighbor in Room 203 Disappeared Leaving Their Keys Behind, which is by the same circle! That one is such a journey,,, WOW. I like it a lot because the male lead looks a little like Azul if you're delusional and obsessed enough hehe. (๑>◡<๑) aaa but maybe it's just the mole placement and glasses and expressions. ;;;;;

Rook in the plot of My Sweet Bunny Cage is very yes!!! He's the perfect level of delusional. Your protests and pleas go in one ear and out the other. He just doesn't register them. And every time you kick and struggle and scream it only makes him adore you even more. You really are just like his beloved pet rabbit from childhood. <3 waaaa and the breeding kink!!! Rook saying the sweetest of things to you while he's pounding you dumb in your cute, frilly dress.

Omg imagine if you were actually a bunny hybrid/beastgirl......... even more reason for Rook to latch onto you and keep you forever as his pretty bunny. <3 part of me thinks he wouldn't make it so that you can't walk, if only because it's the chase that invigorates him. He likes it when you're feisty and stubborn sometimes! He doesn't even have to hurt your legs either. When you're so panicked and desperate to escape, you'll inevitably hurt yourself if you aren't careful. Even covered in blood, you're still beautiful. :)

#twisted chit chat #🪄 anon #n/sfw #my day is wonderful!! <3 i hope yours is too!!#rook is such a bewildering specimen......#i need to study him intensely under a microscope >:D

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doublekanble · 11 months ago

Text

deer (in a head light)

Alastor/reader (gnc)

platonic-romantic. (almost everyone thinks you two are in love or is extremely baffled by the fact, a bit more romantic for me but can be seen as anything actually i just like writing people being sort of stupid)

word count: 5.6k.

or, collectively, everyone's reaction to the fact. Nifty is there👍. no real warning this is a normal fic part two to this.

Husk have never gone through this level of raw mental torture, while Angel thinks it’s absolutely hilarious how hard is it for Husker to accept that one of the most feared Overlord of all Pride Ring is vying for a cute lil fella like you. What started out as a small remark over the rim of a particularly strong cup of gin about how Alastor have been seemingly hovering around you, making small talks that you try to keep up with confused enthusiasm - soon turn into listing off every growing instances of odd affections that no one ever thought he’s capable of, but it’s yours in abundance.

You’re standing up with the intention of going outside? Unless he’s actively in a conversation (and several time, even during one) Alastor will find a convenient excuses to walk with you. You’re cold? Everyone else better be cold too, either that or hope to God he have anything to give you to wear. Hungry? Thirsty? Almost like a caretaker, he’s always making sure you have little bites of food and drink here or there, reminding you like clockwork. Staying in your room for the day? Your room is close to Angel, and the first time he come out of his room, fresh from a hangover, only to catch the tail end of a red coat and a greeting disappearing behind your door, it takes everything in him to try and rationalizing not breaking the door down.

(Husk thinks he was being overprotective. Angel brushed it off with a nervous chuckle. It’s a good thing, he remarks, if only Angel kept that attitude.)

The idea of Alastor actually taken interest in anyone, even positively, send shivers down his spine. Husk have been one of the older soul that fell into the hand of the sadistic Overlord, one that did just enough to keep his earn and do what he want when Alastor would’ve gotten busy with a new project or two. He knows he’s useful enough to Alastor, even with the occasional slipped up, learning quickly where to tread and where to back down. The Radio demon is insane, but he is surprisingly much more lenient with people than he often let on, but not as much as he is with you.

Which quickly became a thorn that Angel uses to dug into his side. Old battle-worn Husk cannot wrap his head around the fact that you, of all people in Hell, somehow get back on Alastor good side and stays there for longer than anyone thought you could.

You are more than bearable, don’t get him wrong. Good at reading and picking up on certain cues to pleased people (more particularly, the fact Husk likes to be alone most of the time), and in spite of being just a tad bit too stubborn at times, is generally a polite and entertaining thing to have around. It would’ve made sense for Alastor to wants to keep you for fun, if not for how you two started out.

Having missing out on your first introduction, all he have to go off of is your debrief of it on the one day you want to try whiskey. You’d damn near spat it out, opting to just sit with some soda instead (he didn’t try to poke too much, you’re almost like a pop-up pirate at time). Husk figured you would earn the ire of the most egotistical man he’d ever known, considering how you loudly asked Charlie for Alastor's resume as a way to try and barred him from working here.

Of course, that didn’t work, both you and Vaggie are long-time victims of Charlie convincing puppy gaze, and Alastor secured him and Nifty a spot at the hotel. But Husk was extremely adamant it would put you on a black book with Alastor, still remembering how Alastor grip on his cane would tighten just a bit whenever you spoke up on the first day. And yet, you get to laugh about it.

“Yer just bein superstitious kitten. At this point ‘m pretty sure dude just got the hots for them, nothing big.” Angel fiddles with his phone on one set of hand, the other propping himself on the bar counter, holding a popsicle to his mouth. He wants to tell the spider that’s absolutely not how the word superstitious should be use, but he digressed. “We’ve been at this for days, if he gonna do something, we would’ve known.”

Husk scoffed, throwing the piece of cloth he’s been using to furiously wiping down a stain someone left on the counter over his shoulder.

“Yeah right, as if you can get your head out of your ass enough to see that.” He ignores Angel smirk, already knew where this can go if he let it, almost like a whisper, he spat. “I’m just saying, he ain’t the Radio demon for show. You lots know nothing about whatever he got planned in his shitty fucked up head.”

Forced contractor be damn, this bar is his pride and joy, or whatever’s left of it anyway.

At that, Angel sends his attitude right back, hand(s) flickering, “And I’m saying he’s head over heels. What? Ya wanna explain the fucker just- casually waltz up to them and kissin' their fucking hand as a morning greeting? Cus’ I’m calling bullshit. Nobody even doing that fucking thing anymore, and he’s doin’ it every chance he gets! Like, have you even seen them?!” Almost like a comedy setup, they both look over to the chattering at the top of the stairs.

Over the railing, you’re rushing off from Alastor’s side to catch up to Nifty, who’s desperately nagging you to come and help her with a spot she can’t dust off with a ladder, having long depleting the fun of falling off from it. And almost like instinct, he took your hand and planted a gentle peck, along with a well wish for your day.

You, with your other hand occupied and being dragged away too fast after the fact for you to formulate a real respond, simply perks up and laugh, waving at him before you fully give into the little bug-like demon and let her rushed the both of you to the other side of the hotel – Alastor stands and watch you fully disappearing behind a corner before turning his head and look directly at the pair. His mic sounding nothing except for a low drones of static.

Husk expertise kicking in, he looks straight ahead instead, wiping down the counter again just to be safe. Angel’s years of acting led him to immediately start talking about the latest project he’s involved in, popsicles stick held from his face. Husk can’t be too bothered by it this time, at least he’s reading the room. But even with their combined effort, it still doesn’t stop Alastor from manifested himself right by the bar, smiles almost pull taut, a too jolly “How is it going gentlemen?” and a request for a cup of moonshine, with a tune contorting just to sound much too whimsical for anyone else except him echoes from his microphone, and he’s off again.

“…y’know, you can just say you’re sorry for being wrong Whiskers~”

“Go fuck yourself.”

-----

Vaggie knows that no matter how much she tries to warn Charlie about the cannibal murderer in their own cozy hotel, her partner can and have constantly willed it away with loving words and cute beady eyes that she can’t fight against. Her loving and trusting nature always been the tried-and-true counter to Vaggie’s much more doubtful and skeptical side. Recalling the way you refer to it (two people working in harmony, balancing out each other’s nature, like a tango, a secret rhythm unknown to anyone but them), she smiles.

It dropped the moment she remembers the matter at hand, specifically, you, a friend that have grown dear to her heart, and the cannibal murderer she very much hated guts - growing close to yours. She’s not sure whether this qualifies for a tango when she’s dragging her feet and Charlie’s tap dancing.

Vaggie would’ve been glad you have virtually zero comment on the fact Alastor is getting close to you, and with her luck, purposefully ignoring it (what’s with you and dive bombing out of the conversation the moment the topic came up), if not for the fact Charlie is very insistent on letting you know all about it (=> conversation you have to dive out of). You and Vaggie traded favors all the time, exclusively about Charlie, who always try to bite off a bit more than she can chew.

Usually, you did a much better job on keeping Charlie from trouble than Vaggie actually can, having the heart she lacks to guilt her partner into keeping still or stop her from running into red light traffic. Yet a pattern emerges soon after this deal started that you three all pick up on, much to Charlie’s delight.

Somehow, some way, Charlie aged old puppy dog eyes are much, much more effective when the both of you are right next to each other. Alone, while Vaggie can’t turn her down, you can and have consistently do so. But together, you both would turn to each other, and you either would give into Charlie first, or wash your hand completely from the whole situation altogether, both decisions are equally awful, and often left Vaggie alone on the line of defense.

Like that time you asked for the Radio demon resume, being extremely firm on his demeanor being horrible for customer service and how unfit it would be for a hotel to house someone who clearly doesn’t want to help or be help. Vaggie remember the chills running up her spine as you stand firmly in the face of the greatest mystery to Hell even after all this time and not even batting an eye to his straining words or the implications of it. Even going so far as to point out that he’s a liability and can’t keep himself straight for anything worth the hotel’s effort.

Only for Charlie to held onto your (and Vaggie’s) hand and tell you both she can do this. She remembers it took you not even 5 second to turn towards her with a wistful gaze, a smile pulls on your lips, and put a hand on her shoulder.

Aside from her first real injuries, it was the biggest betrayal she’d ever gone through.

Vaggie like to think it doesn’t sting so badly that her partner and her friend are now growing more used to the giant red flag stalking their halls. If not also for the fact she have to be in on your effort of stopping Charlie from bringing up a weird line of conversation while you still - albeit not fully of your own volition - feeding into her girlfriend delusion of being a matchmaker. It wouldn’t be so hard if you just, try to at least calm Charlie down yourself, but your tendencies to avoid particularly specific conversation makes her boomerang from appreciation to pure exasperation.

Especially when she would be fighting her love for Charlie to keep your dignity intact.

“But Vaggiee…!” clinging onto her left arm, Charlie tries her best to bring her girlfriend’s eyes back to her. “Just look at them! They’ve never looked at anyone like that!”

She would love to argued otherwise, you have a habit of looking at everyone like that, something with making people feel more welcome to talk to you. But all thought vanished from her head when she turns to try and make an argument, and for a brief moment she forgot what they were talking about. Charlie’s good at distracting her, but she steeled herself and stop Charlie from jumping off into this and making it so much harder on you than it already is.

(God, the things Vaggie’d do for love.)

“I know you really want to, hun, but - I’m just, not sure about this. It’s Alastor we’re talking about. I get them being into him or whatever, but you’d really set them up with the Radio demon? You know…”

Charlie was slowly wilting a bit, but picks herself up at the hesitation, thinking it’s her chance, she races over her words. “A thoughtful, charming and-“

But still can’t finish fast enough, and Vaggie have to advert her eyes, she can’t handle a sad Charlie that well. “and a horrible cannibalistic freak, Charlie. He’s not a good person.” At that, her girlfriend really clings onto her.

“Vaggie…this is a hotel for redemption! We've got to believe that people can change…” Charlie’s not addressing her point, there’s no real way to denying the fact Alastor is really just who he is. A rotten, rancid piece of meat. Redemption be dammed when he doesn’t even believe in it. “And! I have proof that Alastor likes them~” Pulling out little drawn post-it-notes from her front pocket, Charlie nearly doubled over while trying to put all of them onto the table in front of Vaggie, and you.

“I’m going to go back to my room.” You abruptly stand up, nervously grinning while shuffling out of their office. Having sat completely stilled while hoping that you can somehow divert the topic ever since the start of the conversation, you gave up. Completely disregarding Charlie’s attempt at making you stay. “It’s late, and I should’ve been in bed some hours ago…”

“Wait! I swear that this time I-“ Charlie tries to reach for you again, but Vaggie held strong. Nodding towards the exit, you mouthed her a quick thank you as you walked out, wishing them both good night while gently pushing the doors close. “I have the proof…”

“C’mon babe…” visibly deflating, Charlie sat herself back into Vaggie’s arms with a pout. She doesn’t have the heart to press this too deeply, so she pushed back her hair and give her a small peck on her eyelid, she always did have pretty eyes. “You know they’re not going to listen to you if you keep ambushing them like this.”

“I know, but I just- really love them both…” Vaggie raised an eyebrow at that. “And they seem so, nice together. Alastor always makes sure to greet them every day, they always wished him goodnight-“ she scoffed.

“They do that for everyone hun, and I’m pretty sure that bastard just do it because…well, who knows? He’s weird, who knows what he’s thinking…maybe he’s just trying to- toot his own horns playing nice. He does that a lot.”

When Charlie stays still, Vaggie really thought she could end this tonight, for both your sake and her’s. But then, as if was given water from the spring of life, with her back straight, she sat right up and held firmly onto Vaggie shoulders.

“But he’s trying so hard for them! Don’t you see how he’s spending so much time just hanging around them? Oh, and don’t forget that he asked them, specifically them, what they think of his radio show! He doesn’t do that for anyone else Vaggie! He brings them food when they forgot to eat. They told him about stuff they would’ve ever tell us without prompting! And you have to see the way he looks at them when they’re just, sit together and, and-“

“Woah. Slow down Char. Through your nose.” Even like this, she’s endearing. She held Charlie’s arm and bring her closer.

“You have to see Vaggie, he looks at them like…how you look at me!” Vaggie pauses. Charlie is getting to her, she have to stop her from talking or she’ll give in. She thinks about how miserable you would be sitting through an actual talk about this, it doesn’t help.

“And, you’re one of the most wonderful things that happens to me, Vaggie. I love everyone in the hotel, and I would give my everything for them,” knowing her, she would “but you.” She breathes, and Vaggie feels her breath stuck in her throat. “You are my everything. We’re perfect together. And I really love them, and I just thought…”

Charlie looked at her with such a soft and gentle look, her eyebrows slightly drawn together, lips jutting out just a little bit. “I thought he’s perfect for them, that they’ll be perfect together too. I know he’s not the best person, and you don’t trust him. You don't have to. But I think he’s doing his best for them, and they’re doing so much for him too...” their hands, held tightly together “So please, trust me. I genuinely think this can work out. They deserve to be love like I did too.”

Vaggie tries so hard to held strong, opting to stay silent instead of replying and stoking the growing flame, but Charlie looks at her with her big shiny eyes, and she caved.

“…Alright… I guess he haven’t really…done anything to them yet…” before Charlie could jump up in joy, Vaggie tries to get her focus back “But if he touches a single hair on them- woah!”

Wrapped in her arms, Vaggie barely able to get out the full sentence as Charlie rambles on. “Oooh, thank you thank you thankyouthankyou I knew you’d understand! Oh there is so much I want to do too-“

“Charlie, bit too tight…”

“Oops! Sorry!”

Coming down from her high, she stares into her lover’s eye with the brightest grin possible. It takes everything in Vaggie to think about how disappointed you’ll be, so she closed her eye and takes a breath. “We have to let them sort it out themselves, though. No matchmaker.”

“But-”

“You know how closed off they can be. Give them time Charlie. They can find their own way home.” Like that, Charlie smiles a smile so bright and gentle, reserve only for Vaggie. “Like you and me?”

And all she can think is that this might not be that bad after all.

“Like you and me.”

----

“So...thissss is what the youth are…into?”

“Arguably, it’s somewhat better than what I have as a kid.”

Pentious squinted at the device in his hand, clawed hands carefully swipe through your ‘carefully curated feed’, whatever that means. You sat next to him on your balcony, various knick knacks on the side table he insisted you need, hands considerably less clawed holding a book you’ve never managed to get through past the 10th page, as you only ever try to read it when the moon is blue and you always ended up forgetting the previous pages, something he learned while he was helping with cleanups.

He’s flustered when you laugh at a joke without needing to look at the captions in the video, wanting to pretend he completely understood what just happened. It takes you a bit to calm down and explain to him what was so funny, it only serves to confused him further. You grin and handed your book over to Frank without putting a bookmark in first (who then immediately turns the page and started narrating half-way through to the other eggs), reaching for the phone.

“I’ll put on something a bit easier to get used to, is that ok with you?”

“But, aren’t we learning how to be ‘hip’?” you cackle, he tries not to shrink into himself.

“We can leave that for some other day i think, you don’t need to be hip or anything right now. And besides,” handing him your phone, he minded his claws, “I think you’re cool on your own.” You hum and turn to an open sketchbook on the table, picking up a pencil, you start to sketch one of the egg boiz running about your room.

Pentious nearly burst into tears, he should’ve known his friends (or, you) would’ve never made fun of him. Turning to your device again, his attention is immediately captured by a cat video.

You two stayed like that for what must’ve been an hour or two, occasionally checking up on what the other’s is doing. (he would show you the cutest video, you showed him your barely intelligible sketch. He feels like you’re sketching his nightmare he said, you’re flattered). With almost all of his eggies already tiring themselves out some time ago and gathered around both of your feet (and his tail), bundled up in your duvet and pillows. Except for egg boiz number 3, who’s in his lap as both are captured by a video of a dog getting a haircut (a mini-American shepherd, you chimed in happily that it’s one of your favorite video).

Then, the calm afternoon was broken by a singular knock to your door. You and your still cognizant companion(s) look up from your respective entertainment at hand and stare at each other. You glance over to him, head nodding towards the door, he shrugs, growing restless, you pat his shoulder as you stand up and walk away.

Pentious really did try to turn back and focus on the groomers narrating a particularly endearing moment in the nine minutes long video, but he can’t help but be on edge when a familiar voice sing a greeting too loud for him to ignore, and he realized just who is at the door, your door, his new best friend's door (verdict still out on whether you consider him as one).

Taking a peek, assuring to himself it’s to keep you safe, he locks eyes with red and half of his soul descend into the ring below, the other half turns him right back to your phone when the red starts to raise his eyebrows at him. He can keep you safe from a safe distance surely, but when he tries to hug the egg in his lap to comfort himself and feels nothing, he freezes. Horror-struck, he turns and look at you, specifically your back, the other half of his soul joins the first.

Without him realizing, number 3 already slipped out of his grasp and is now climbing on your shoulder and interjecting your conversation with the gentleman, who is now full-on glaring at him whenever your head slightly turn away. He gulped, but he still put your phone back onto the table and stand up, forget to mind his still sleeping minions at his tail. Thank Lucifer they decided to stay silent for once.

“I was just going to stay in tomorrow too… maybe- oh, Sir Pentious? What’s up?” You stare at him, easy-going as always. Almost like you’re unaware of the way Alastor is smiling at him. Pentious can only thank whoever is in charge of fate for the fact you slotted yourself right between them, and cursed them all the same for the fact you can’t covered up the demon’s face.

Clearing his throat, he tries to steered his nerves and curb his stuttering. “I see that someone have rudely interrupt our study session. May I have your permission to…”

At the sounds of radio static grows, his words in turns wilted as he stares into bright, glowing red and yellow growing in volume. Luckily, you manage to pick this up and covered for him. “Oh no don’t worry, Al was just asking when I’m free to hang out with.” As you turn to that same terrifying shade of red, it immediately transformed into a charming smile.

“Why, hangout is such a casual term dear. I prefer to call it a trip! Much more exciting that way.” With his usual theatrics delivery and a backing of voices coming from the microphone staff he uses to give you a gentle knock on the head, clashing with your much more casual tone brushing him off, Pentious wishes he can see this as endearing.

“Oh you’re trying to goat me into going back there again.” That wasn’t a question on your end. Alastor smiles in amusement, but it strained when number 3 chimes in and tries to asked you where is back there. He’s extremely grateful the demon chooses to ignore it, letting you entertain the egg instead.

“I do not know what you’re referring to at all.” Closing his eyes and leaning a bit to the side, the demon bounces a bit on the tip of his shoes and sings. “Otherwise, it seems my presence is making our welcomed guest uncomfortable.” Pentious tries to stand tall for you and number 3, but Alastor preference for getting up close and personal is mincing his confidence to bits. “I guess I will settle for an extra visit by tonight to talk a bit more about your hectic schedule, if that’s alright with you Ma chère?”

You laugh a bit and agrees with him, saying a quick sorry while he brushed it off with a smile, adjusting his coat’s flawless lapel with one hand, the other reaching for yours. Lifted up to his lips, he planted there a kiss with a look that can passed off as soft. Pentious looks away the moment their eyes lock again, whistling like he hasn’t been blanching at the two of you.

As you turn to close the door, he could’ve sworn red dials were looking at him in the seconds you look back to him, completely in contrast with the life-threatening aura now stand outside the door.

“Haha, sorry about that. I didn’t have time earlier and he was busy, so…” you trailed off, explanation offering him nothing but more questions. “I’ll try to be a bit more mindful about this next time, yeah? Didn’t know he still held something against you.”

You want to keep doing study sessions with him? He perks up a bit at the implication, while choosing to ignore the second part, until his egg started speaking.

“Uh, boss number two, why does Alastor kiss your hand so much?” Number 3 raises his hand, still sitting snugly in your arms. Pentious makes a note to make him sleep on the edge of the bed tonight. It doesn’t help that you’re leading them back to the others, who also started to chime in with their own questions. He can tell this time you’re getting a bit miffed, smiles growing a bit taut and looking off somewhere, unable to let them somehow ruin your goodwill towards him, he cracked. “SILENCE! Cease with your silly questions right now!”

You look at him, and he would’ve shrink into himself if not for how you seem more surprised than angry, as your brows relax and you smile a bit, he let himself breathe. “It’s alright, they’re cute, they can get away with a little questioning I think. And hm…” you bounce on your feet in a slightly familiar manner, he sweats a bit. “-I mean, it’s normal for friends to be close, so I don’t see any problem with it.”

“Oh…friends can kiss each other on the hand?” number 1 jump up. You laugh.

“Of course they can. Alastor loves getting into people’s space too, so I wouldn’t put it past him.”

He would’ve tried to say something and help you out with the questioning, but it hit him that at least in his time, the specific to the gesture was more of a formal greeting. But he takes into account the fact it's Alastor, and how whenever he sees you two together, the Radio demon always seemingly follows after your heels like a shadow tie too tightly, and he shivers. Anxiety fills his heart as he tries to navigate this thought.

“I do have to say, why is it that he tends to get so…closssse…to you?” You visibly stiffen at this, but as he takes your hand in his, trying his best to be tactful, still minding the claws, you stare. “Could it be…he’s trying to threaten you, dear friend?” he tries to recall how you comforts him in time of distress, and did his best to echoes the same sentiment to you.

“Whatever it is, you can share it to me! I will, uh- “

“You’ll duel him, right boss?”

his eggs chimes in where he falters, he follows their lead.

“Duel! Yesss! A duel to the death! That Radio bastard will regrets the day he-“ You squeeze his hand, and he drop his false bravado and let you seated him back on the balcony, letting number 3 dropped from his spot in your arms to the duvet covering the floor.

(with much less grace compared to you, but all the heart. he takes the fact you’re still around that he’s doing great.)

“We don’t need any of that silly. He’s my friend, I think.”

You fall back onto your seat, number 1 climb up to your lap with a question. “You two are friends? Like with boss?” sitting up, you sing an enthusiastic agreement while reaching for your notebook again. Pentious swore the sketch is looking more and more familiar by the line.

“Yeah, like with Sir Pentious! Al’s intimidating but he’s fun to hang around.” Hunching over while minding number 1 watching in your lap, your grin drops to something a bit kinder. He feels like he’s overstepping, despite the fact the room is void of anyone else. “He nice to talk with, I’ve never seen him shutting up on anyone else’s terms. That’s a good thing.” He wanted to say that’s a bit too barebone, even for himself, but then, turning to him with a smirk, you added. “Don’t tell him i said this, but he’s ssssuch a bitch sometimes. It’s fun though.”

Nodding with a much more serious look, Pentious takes your word as a command. “Not a word to my grave!”

“Hehe, that’s why you’re my favorite.”

Refocused on your sketch, you trust Pentious to be able to work your phone a bit better than before. He thinks he would’ve work it better if not for the tears gathering in his eyes, he takes the tissue paper you handed him without looking and wiped it away, only to panic about the long scratch he left on your screen. You laugh and assured him it’s fine, you can change the screen.

(verdict be dammed, you’re HIS best friend.)

(he took a peek at your sketch before you turn the page, and it hit him why it looks so off-putting. Antlers sprouting from two end on a figured too lanky to make out the physique of, but familiar enough all the same. He’d much prefer you go back to sketching his eggies, he said, you happily complied and he leave your room after with 5 torn note full of egg sketches and another schedule study session he pray you'll relay to Mister Alastor.)

---

“There you are darling! I was looking everywhere for you.” Calling out with joy, then stopping to take in the sight. He steadied you with one hand while you stop to catch your breath, nearly doubled into him. “I can see that you’re quite busy, seems like Nifty is giving you quite the run for your money huh!”

“Please…shut up…” you don’t need to look at him to know he’s enjoying this way more than you do, laughing at your utterly exhausted state. “I didn’t know there’s this much bugs in here… How can she even keep tracks of them??”

“Don’t feel too bad now, that one mind and health both are simply wonders to behold! Even I can’t keep up with her at times.” Trying to dust off your shoulders, he looked offended when you just swatted his hands away, waiting for an explanation.

“We’re not done yet, she’s just in the kitchen for a bit.” You pulled out your phone to check the time, Alastor squinting his eyes besides you, leaning over to keep watch and raising an eyebrow at the long scratch on the glass. “One hour before I’m free…”

“Thinking of giving up then~?”

“Yeah.”

Laughing at your tone, he takes your hand and twirl you, but not too much! Just enough daze you a bit. “Well darling, I would love to whisk you off with me for a trip downtown! I’m running low on good meat, and simply can’t afford to stained my coat while the tailor’s out of commission. But knowing you…” he’d look down-right sad if you let him. He can tell you try to keep your expression neutral, but your smile is growing to match his.

“No Al, an hour is-“

“An hour is an hour. Yes I know dear but it’s dreadfully boring without you.” Holding on still, he brings his face close to you, taking delight in the growing red on your face and you acting like nothing is out of the sort.

“You’ll survive Alastor. Nifty however…” As the sound of tiny footstep calling your name quickly approaching, he can’t help but letting a long, drawn-out sigh, backing off from you. A lost for him. You smile.

“Over here Nifty!” calling out to the little woman, you step away from Alastor to meet her half way, her stopping just before she hit your leg.

“You! I’ve been looking for you where have you been! I saw SOOOO many of them but they’re on the ceiling and I can’t reach them at all you've got to come help me – oh hiii Alastor!”

Nifty stops pulling you down the hall again just to give him a violent wave, dancing from one foot to the other and giving him time to catch up to you two, fully aware of your tradition from the moment it first started. Alastor smiles border on self-pleasing, gracious of Nifty’s effort to not drag you away just yet, less so the fact she would stares with such a wide grin. Nevertheless, he takes your hand again and bring it up, speaking all the while.

“Nifty, dearie, won’t you work our dear friend here a little less? I need them to-“ he pauses as you suddenly grip his hand and bring it up to your lips, too quick for him to stop you. And before he knew it, you both disappeared behind the corner yet again. Nifty voices and your cackle echoing down the empty hall way.

When he came back, aware of how the light flickering above his head now finally stabilizing itself, he laughs. Steadying himself, Alastor brushed off his coat and fix his monocle. Humming along with a love song slowly trickling from the microphone while walking the same way you and Nifty ran off to before. He have time to spare while waiting for you.

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshot #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin alastor #me writing this: i can do this in 2k #i wrote 4k in an afternoon and night and the rest is just me going back and forth like replaying in my head dialogue to checks how it sound #i need to draw more of him i need him carnally (he will splattered my guts on the floor)#that title could've actually been for a horror angst fic actually #one of these days i'll commit to writing an actual horror/yan fic im good at weird writing. maybe

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