#and then it was like ‘get job’ and then increasingly ‘adjust to job’ and I did both of those things Tumblr posts
itspileofgoodthings · 1 year ago
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Years ago, I asked you what the different alternate universe Maria’s were doing with their lives. Are the answers still the same?
OOOOOOF yes.
but now I’m in the period where I have to face that I do not, in fact, have multiple lives so I have to figure out what I’m doing with my one wild and precious life and the sort of (for me, at least) ease of following a particular school-related completion course that wasn’t too hard to commit to or finish has come to an end and I am at a crossroads where it’s just like—you could choose. And on some level, in the next few years, you need to. Low-key terrifying and I hate it.
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superchat · 1 year ago
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you know honestly, for a 4 day work week after a 3 day weekend this week has been so fucking hard holy shit i hate it
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innocent-artery · 1 year ago
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Trial and Error
1.6k words
Summary: Your new boyfriend Eddie finds out that you've been faking orgasms. He makes it his mission to make sure you don't have to.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader
For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. This story includes sexually explicit material, reader discretion advised.
While reading, I recommend listening to the altar is my hips, a spotify playlist by me!
Part One - Part Two
~
One hour.
It had been the most blissful hour of your life, but it increasingly became more frustrating as it went on.
Eddie hovered over you, pile driving his cock into you with force that had prompted him to place an extra pillow behind your head when it had knocked against the headboard a while earlier. One of his arms propped him up onto his elbow, the other toying with one of your nipples. His pubic bone was brushing your clit with each push of his hips, and his mouth was latched onto your other nipple dutifully.
So why couldn't you orgasm?
In theory, Eddie was doing everything right. It wasn't like you were uncomfortable with him, and you did feel good, it just wasn't building like it was supposed to, you couldn't get that push to tip over the edge. You'd managed to get yourself there on your own, but Eddie, skillful as he was, wasn't you. He couldn't feel exactly what you felt, he relied on reaction. You'd tried giving him directions, from which he learned well, but when they fell just short of getting you to orgasm, you stopped trying to adjust, not wanting to feel nit-picky or difficult.
And so eventually you'd fallen into a habit of pretending to orgasm. It was easy at first, when you were still testing the waters. When he'd fingered you and you couldn't orgasm, you faked it, brushing it off thinking that you just needed his mouth. A few weeks later, when he added his mouth, you brushed it off again, resigning to believe that only his dick would do the job.
And here you were, with his dick inside you for the first time, and you were back where you'd found yourself all those times before. Still hitting that brick wall you couldn���t get over.
You knew deep down that you should just tell Eddie. He'd made it abundantly clear that he wanted to make you feel good. But after time you'd simply given up on it. You still felt good, you thought, and that was good enough.
The thought seemed overwhelmingly clear now, and for some reason that escaped you, it pricked at your waterline.
Glancing over at the clock, you entertained the act again. You took a fistful of his hair, arched your back with a loud, gasping "Fuck, Eddie" and deliberately clenched your pussy around him. You felt his hips stutter, then still as he pulled out. You watched as he fisted his cock a few times, spilling his cum over your stomach. The muscles tensed with the foreign sensation.
You opened your eyes, watching Eddie hovering over you, panting, and you felt your pussy throb. That was only more frustrating.
A moment of silence fell over the two of you, the hot smell of sex thick in the air. You assume Eddie believes you came, until you note the slightly perplexed expression on his face, staring at your collarbone as he was lost in thought, rolling something around in his head. He seems to have concluded the thought with a sigh out his nose, leaning up to kiss you sweetly.
"Feeling good?" He muttered, grinning into your mouth.
"Mhm," you sighed between kisses. "Hardest I've ever come." This was, in fact, total bullshit.
At that, Eddie stopped, pulled away to see your face. "Really?"
You nodded. He shrugged. "That's strange, because I didn't feel it at all."
You froze.
He popped his lips, giving you a sympathetic smile. "I wasn't sure at first, thinking you just didn't have much of a physical reaction when you came. Was still unsure just asking now, but your reaction gives it away."
The wind seemed to be knocked out of you, opting to watch your hand play with his hair than look him in the eye.
"I'm not mad, sweetness, I just don't understand. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know." Your voice was small. "I think...I think I just didn't want to be a bother. I tried telling you stuff to make it better but it still wasn't working- not that you're doing anything wrong!" you added quickly when he blinked at you. "So I just stopped."
"Honey, you know I'm glad to go to whatever lengths are needed to make you orgasm, and if you don't I'm not doing my job." He was earnest in his words, and it made your heart both swell with love and sink with guilt.
"I know. I just feel bad when you've been eating me out for half an hour and I'm no closer to an orgasm than I was twenty minutes ago."
Eddie sighed, pecking your cheek and sitting up on his calves. "I'm not sure you're hearing me, bubs. I genuinely do not care, in the nicest way possible. You need hours? I've got all the time in the world. You need a specific technique? Show me what to do. I don't care if getting you to orgasm takes a little more work, I'd rather take the time to learn than have you pretend for my sake."
Tears pricked at your eyes again, but this time with love. You sat up and pulled his face towards yours, kissing him with as much adoration and gratitude as you could muster.
"Sweetness?"
"Yeah?"
"Have you been able to make yourself cum?"
You mumbled an 'mhm', in between kisses.
"I have an idea." He pulled away, eyes now sparked with determination. "I want you to get in whatever position you normally do when you touch yourself."
When he pulled back, you were still for a moment. It took his raising of an eyebrow and gentle gesture to snap you out of it, shifting your weight and the pillows until you lay comfortably on your back.
"Good." Eddie adjusted himself so that he was propped up on his elbows, face level with your pussy. "Now, show me how it's done."
Your jaw nearly fell open. "Eddie..."
Eddie tilted his head, searching for signs of hesitancy on your face. After a moment of stunned silence you began to move, both hands reaching for your tits. Groping, massaging, pinching, caressing. Slowly, so slowly, pulling soft hitches of breath followed by sighs each time. You felt your eyelids flutter closed, partly from the sensation you were losing yourself in, partly from slight embarrassment.
Your left hand traveled up to your neck, soft caresses over your jaw and pulse point before finding the pressure points that had your brain turning fuzzy and a low, breathy noise rumbling in your throat. The right hand found the flesh of your thigh, groping it softly before alternating with your ass.
Eddie chuckled softly. "Didn't know you grabbed your own ass, pretty."
You felt your cheeks warm. "I usually just imagine you doing whatever I'm doing, so..."
"Do you?" Even with your eyes closed you could see the ego-inflated grin pulling his lips back. "Good, that's good. Show me what you picture me doing."
You continued like that for a moment, just feeling around your body. Your middle finger traced the junction between your thigh and your cunt, making your body tense with excitement.
When your eyes had had the courage to open again, they met a lovely sight. Eddie was crouched dutifully down in front of you, hungry and lust-blown eyes noting every slight movement of your hand, gaze flicking from one had to the other, to your face, to your pussy on display in front of him.
Nearly shaking in anticipation, you reached down gingerly to graze a fingertip against the spot right above your clit, which had your hips following your hand when it left.
A soft breath was pulled from you at the action, but it turned into a choked gasp when your finger finally pressed down towards where slick had gathered. You opted to sift it around, collecting it on your fingertips before sliding them up to your clit, a firm, slow swipe making you let out a weak sound.
Once you found a rhythm, you opened your eyes. Eddie was staring intently at your motions, trying to burn every little motion into his brain, wanting to memorize the exact shape you drew into your body. His eyes flicked up to your face every so often, but when they caught on that you were staring, they lingered. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to the insides of your thighs, hands caressing the backs of your thighs, a motion intended to be soothing but instead sent shivers into your skin in its wake.
"Eddie..." you sighed, motions increasing in intensity. Through your growing desperation you managed to stay slow, keeping yourself on edge.
The boy in question groaned into your skin. The idea that he'd asked you to show him exactly what you did when you were alone and that this was what you thought to do. Say his name. That was what came naturally, that was what fueled your desire. Him.
It didn't go unnoticed that your soft moans were getting louder, airier, higher pitched. Eddie reached his hands under you to grip your ass, caressing and squeezing the flesh.
"Good, good." Eddie murmured.
"Fuck, say that again," you gasped.
"What? That you're doing so good? So good for me, yeah? Look fuckin' perfect, 'n I can smell you from here. Christ baby, sound like a damn song, sound so pretty."
Your fervent motions plus Eddie's soft touches and sex-incarnate voice all tipped you over that sticky sweet edge. This orgasm didn't barrel into you, rather, it washed over you, warmth coursing over you from your core outwards. It felt like euphoria.
When you came down and opened your eyes, Eddie was staring at you with a stupid but awestruck look.
"Well, there's no going back, 'cause I can definitely tell the difference now."
~
@lovinvane
Part One - Part Two
Eddie Munson Masterlist
Stranger Things Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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ghouldump · 3 months ago
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I want to be lestats make up artist and stylist so baddddd after that trailer.
Imagine touring with him while he constantly tries to woo you.
And the fans just seeing him being flirty toward reader
SOMEBODY TAKE MY PHONE AWAY I AM NOT WELLLLLLLLLLL
Diva | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader
ෆ lestat is a handful to tour with but he's also incredibly handsome and charismatic.
lmfaooo same, more rockstar lestat coming soon!
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Touring with Lestat De Lioncourt was not the easiest, at least not at first. The number of makeup artists and stylists who accepted the job, before quitting was ridiculous. Everyone was terrified of him, or of making him angry, walking on eggshells around him.
You were a well-known makeup influencer, starting with tutorials, but with your renowned success, you began working with celebrities, doing makeup, or simply styling them. When you were contacted by his manager, offering twice as much as others, explaining he couldn't keep a stylist or makeup artist, you accepted. You had dealt with plenty of other celebrities in the past, with even more diva tendencies, so you weren't going to let some rockstar ruin your coins.
Meeting him, you immediately realized two things, one, he was even more handsome off-screen, and two, he acted as if everyone was insufferable, like he was gracing their presence, doing them a favor.
“Can we get some makeup on him,” the director told you, picking up the pallet and brush, moving to his cheek, he scoffed.
“Does it look like I need makeup?” he asked you, while you rolled your eyes.
“Actually, yes, you could use some lipgloss and highlight,” you said, matching his tone. Everyone grew quiet, watching the interaction. He turned his head, looking at you, before smirking.
“You may,” he said, letting you lift his head, and apply the highlight, before taking a thinner brush and dabbing the tinted lipgloss onto his lips.
“Better?” he asked you.
“Much better,” you grinned, walking away.
“I like her,” he said, adjusting in the chair.
Instantly after, you were offered a contract, the first in nearly twenty artists to be able to lift a brush to his skin, they needed you. As the tour began, he continued with the shenanigans seducing the audience, while managing to keep them terrified.
“Sit still, I hope you don't frown at your fans like that,” you told him, as you clamped the necklace around his neck.
“And who did your hair?”
“He did,” his assistant mumbled.
“I can tell”
“Is something wrong with my hair?” he stared at you through the mirror.
“Nope, it fits you, wild and untamed,” you snickered, as you moved in front of him, using a brush to apply glitter to his face. Using your finger, you rubbed a bit on his chest.
“You know I enjoy when you touch me there, ma chérie,” he said.
“Whatever,” you laughed, finishing his look.
Over the last few months, Lestat became increasingly bold with his flirtation with you. Hell, besides his manager, you're the only person on his team that he talked to, with eye contact.
“They're ready for you,” His assistant said, reading a text from her phone. Standing, Lestat kept his eyes set on you.
“Come, we haven't finished our conversation,” he held out his hand, stopping you as you were about to put away the makeup.
Taking his hand, he led you out of the trailer, his arm going around your neck to pull you closer.
“What is it?” you asked him, biting back your smile.
“Have you thought about my offer?”
After touring the States, he was set to go on a world tour, and he insisted that you renew your contract to come along.
“I don't know, that's a long time, Les,” you said lowly, intertwining your fingers with the hand over your shoulder.
“I’ll need my makeup done and only the best clothing”
“I thought you didn't need makeup?”
“I don't, but only you could do the task so beautifully, I wouldn't dare let one of those amateurs near me,” he frowned.
“Oh my god, there he goes,” a fan screamed, causing an uproar. Lestat remained unfazed, his arm still around you, his eyes unmoving from your face.
“Is that his girlfriend?”
“He has a girlfriend? I thought he was gay”
“No girl, he's bi”
“Then I still have a chance!”
“They're so cute together”
“You’re going to have us in blogs in the morning,” you told him.
“All publicity is good publicity,” he shrugged.
“We’ll talk more later,” you told him, rubbing your lips together, when you realized he was staring at them.
“Hopefully about you staying with me, and not wanting to go home”
“You need to focus on your concert right now, and we can talk later,” you laughed.
“Fine, make sure to scream extra loud for me, ma chérie,” he said, blowing a kiss to you, before walking up the steps, the loud music starting up.
Crossing your arms, you watched as he performed, his aura exuding sex appeal. After all these months of working with him, you could see why he acted as if he was gracing people with his presence. He was more handsome than most, the attention falling on him wherever he went, and here he was, openly desiring you.
Late nights, after he'd come back from doing whatever, he'd come to your hotel rooms. You eventually realized that on the inside of this beautiful man, was a lonely soul. He craved companionship and being around him, you didn't know how much more you could take before you gave into temptation.
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stunie · 4 months ago
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“SHH…. KEEP IT QUIET.”
╰ ❤︎ ft. gen narumi (kaiju no. 8) x cat hybrid! f!reader. 4.2K WC ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⭑
summary ᯓ⭑ : narumi’s back to streaming one of his games.. again?! well.. he’s gotta get that follower count up somehow, so today he’s got his dick inside his newest pet- but remember. it’s just cock warming, ok? nothing more. dumb cat .. listen here. make this look, in his words, ‘not so suspicious,’ and he just might give u a reward later if u can do a half decent job.
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contains : explicit smut (18+), cat hybrid! reader, brat taming, cock warming, creampies, cum play, degradation, dirty talk, dumbification, hate sex? kind of, heavy overstimulation, mild exhibitionism & dacryphilia (barely), fingering, oral sex (cunninglingus), orgasm control?, pet play n pet names, squirting, teasing, unprotected sex, not proofread >_<
note : aaand the first fic on this blog is up !!! am seriously hoping u all have fun reading this one <3 i had such a blast writing it ^^
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“Better start quieting down,” Narumi warns, grunting as he adjusts his position on his gaming chair before his fingers are rapidly clicking at his mouse. “Stream’s about to start in about… thirty seconds or so.”
You don’t have to look in his direction for him to sense the clear disdain in the glare you’ve got plastered across your face. He feels you bury your nose into the muscles of his shoulder as you try and steady your breathing, arms wrapped loosely around his neck in a weak attempt at staying hidden from his viewers- try and make it look like you weren’t just gushing all over Narumi’s face a minute or two ago.
It all happened too fast.
You hadn’t even recovered from the orgasm he ripped out of you five minutes ago when he had you flat on your stomach to spread you open with his fingers before burying his face inside your cunt, lapping, sucking, then fucking his tongue in and out of you. And actually… you don’t even recall him wiping the juices from his chin before shoving you on his lap. For all you know, your slick could still be all over his face right now in front of thousands to see.
Had he given you time to catch your breath, you wouldn’t be here playing this little game right now.
“I'm not even ready, you asshat,” you hiss under your breath, whisper coming out unsteady with the way his fat cock forces your walls to stretch in order to accommodate his thickness, walls still fluttering from the effects of your last high. Only now, you're clenching around his dick instead of his tongue. You think you heard Narumi scoff at this, but he's greeting his watchers only a second later.
With the way his arms are coming up to wave to them, followed by a dramatic slam of his hands onto his desk at a particularly provoking comment (most likely from hoshina), it doesn't take you very long to start squirming in his lap. Each movement Narumi makes has his fat tip prodding at your gummy walls, and it's becoming increasingly harder to stay quiet like this..
You'd never admit it, but he's big. On any other day, you think you'd be more willing to agree to be his little pet cocksleeve; keep his dick nice and warm for him while he tries to rank up in this game. But today is different. He's got you needy, got you gushing over his tongue, and it leaves you feeling greedy for something thicker.
Your pointed ears perk up at the abrupt sound of his mouse clicking around, your tail eagerly swishing side to side as you imagine the types of comments flooding his inbox at the sight of you. Do they think you're cute? It's not obvious that you're all soaked and needy, is it?
If only Narumi let you turn around and see for yourself.
You wouldn't ask him, of course. Not a chance. Stay planted on his dick, stay quiet, and if no one suspects you, it was your win. And your reward? Two free orgasms from Narumi. However way you want- he might add.
“Oh geez,” Narumi's sigh pulls you out of your thoughts. “Already asking about her?”
“She's napping. Yeah— so let's talk about me,” He babbles into his mic, and his free hand starts to roam around the swell of your ass. “You all should head to your instagram before we get started. Let everyone know she's sound asleep on my shoulder right now. That's just how safe she feels around me.”
You think it's a good thing he decided to have you face his direction rather than the screen, because you didn't want to have to listen to the earful he'd give you if the viewers had caught you rolling your eyes at him for the umpteenth time that day. Regardless, the slick pooling underneath you was getting more and more uncomfortable with each passing second, and you're becoming keenly aware of the sheer amount that's dripped down your thighs, now collecting and smearing across his lap.
And you don't really like feeling wet.
A small shift in position is all you do. You're quiet and slow when you raise your hips a bit, just barely hovering above his thighs in your attempt to get rid of the slick that's making his thighs lewdly stick to yours, but he catches the shift in weight in an instant.
“Ah— stirring already, cat? This chair's supposed to be comfy, y'know,” He drawls, not sparing you a glance when you flinch at the words, still clicking away at his game all too casually. So casually that you don't even react when his hand wraps around your tail, not until he roughly yanks you back down in one hard motion.
You're crashing back onto his lap, thickness sheathing itself fully inside you as your mouth falls open in a silent scream, tongue lolling out at the fullness. You think it's absolutely appalling just how easily he's able to mask his reaction by simply adjusting himself on his chair, taking advantage of the movement by giving you a warning thrust into your cunt before he's still again. “No, what?” He snaps, ignoring the way you're practically panting into his ear with need now. “She's definitely comfortable. Very happy to be here, actually.”
“I’m not lying. She loves me.”
You hate that it's not exactly an understatement. The word “loves” has your mind flashing to the events of last night, more specifically- the image of you crying and trembling underneath him, fistful of his hair tight in your hands as you desperately cling onto him, babbling “I love you” over and over as he mercilessly bullied his cock into you.
It's even worse because you know he absolutely loved every second of it. Every second that you're not acting like such a fucking brat, which- to his dismay, wasn't very many.
Narumi's eyes shift towards the side of his screen, scanning through the newest comments that have popped up in his inbox.
Enchantedknight46: u sure ur not forcing her to keep u company Imao ?
tooezusuck: it's ok if u are
12steelwing: Did u bring here on here be u lost more followers last stream? Need eye candy to gain some?
Batmansballs: I think she's pretty so idrc, but what's that? A cat costume?
His eyes twitch. A part of him is wholeheartedly thankful you've got your head buried in the crook of his neck, glad you're not reading these comments. God, he's irritated just imagining how these fuckers would get in your head so easily, get you swinging your tail all happy and purr something along the lines of “Aww, they think I’m cute? Better make me feel good if you want me to stay here with you. They kinda look like they'd take good care of me, huh Gen?”
He sighs before he's clicking his tongue, raising his other hand to roughly jut an accusatory finger at the screen. “Can't just watch my game, huh? Listen up. When I wake her up and she says I'm right, you all better start typing your apologies” He grits through a forced smile, ripping his headset off before it's being tossed haphazardly onto his desk.
You hiss when he's tugging you by your ear, tilting to whisper a “hear that?” and the sound of his voice sends an electrifying shiver straight down your spine. “They wanna see you. But don't go forgetting our deal already. Just one person notices and it's a loss for you.”
“Don't forget.”
It's not like Narumi's worried about losing or anything. Just one quick glance at your face and he can tell you're going crazy with need, frustrated tears collecting along your lashes, and your lips are all swollen and pouty. Most likely from... biting them to stay quiet? A very interesting observation.
He'd make sure to tease you about that later.
“I hate you sometimes.” Your whisper comes out strained, followed by a whimper that slips out when his cock involuntarily twitches inside you. Oh, that's right. He actually likes when you get mad at him- that fucker.
You're inhaling sharply, gathering yourself to the best of your ability before you finally pull yourself off of him, heavy cock slapping against his stomach as you turn, feet planted on his thighs when you reach to grab his headset. Narumi's eyes are trailing down your frame the next second, and if those viewers weren't here right now, he could probably fuck you just like this. Have your hands grip the table, move your feet a bit so that you're balancing on the edge of the seat, squatting just above him and letting him fuck his dick up into you just like that..
“Hello? Can you guys hear me?” You blurt out, voice sugar sweet and innocent, and he almost wants to gag at the implication. You were absolutely anything but. “Ah— so you can! That's good.”
There's a moment of silence as you cutely adjust the headset, glossed lips tugging into a pout with the way it doesn't sit right against your ears. Narumi's leaning back behind you, elbow on the armrest as he rests his head against his palm. He looks bored even.
“Hmmm,” you hum, eyes scanning over the comments... and yeah, they love you. Your pretty lips tug into a knowing smile after scanning comment after comment as they all begin to flood in, all of them saying the exact same thing. But how could they not? You were just a sweet little kitten, fluffy and innocent, and you emphasize this with a slow and alluring sway of your tail, eyes half lidded and completely seductive as you lean in towards the cam.
“Mhm, I guess I love him....” You shrug, feigning disappointment, “But hey. You guys love me way more, right? I can totally tell.”
You feel Narumi perk up from behind you in disbelief, head lifting from where's he had it resting it on his hand. A slow blink. Then two.
Did you just fucking say ‘I guess?’
“Mhm!” You nod at a comment, and he feels his veins bulge against the skin of his neck. “Deal. So why don't you all leave him and come watch me play instead? My user is st-agh!”
The rest of your words come out muffled against the palm he's clamped over your mouth. You recognize it as the same one that was rubbing at your cunt just a few minutes ago, and you can tell because you can taste yourself on him.
“Mmph!” You retort, gasping when he's roughly pulling you back into his lap, chair scooting forward as he grabs his mouse. “Streams over,” his voice comes out a pitch lower, “Said she loves me. Start typing up the apologies.”
He's leaning to switch off the stream the next second, and it falls eerily silent as soon as the in-game lobby music abruptly shuts off. You fiddle with your tail, chuckling nervously as you crane your neck to get a glimpse of Narumi... and you really shouldn't have.
He looks mad.
Before you can even get a word out, Narumi's tossing you onto his bed, and you yelp as soon as your back hits the mattress. He doesn't give you a second to even gasp, his hands looping around your ankles and pulling you back towards the edge of the bed until his cock is flush against your drooling cunt. “Huh. You're a real fucking naughty kitten, know that? Anyone ever told you what a piece of work you are?”
He hates that you're getting off to this. If you weren't on your back, your tail would be eagerly whishing back and forth, ears peeking up with anticipation from the change in tone. He'll admit that he likes when you're mad, but you're not much different from him. It's obvious with the way you keep glancing down at his cock, and he thinks you might as well just stare at it with little pink hearts in your eyes.
“Just you,” you shake your head, “Everyone else says I’m an angel, Gen. Your viewers too, apparently.”
There's a warning thrust to your cunt, your eyes widening when his tip catches against your clit just perfectly, and the sound the action makes is nothing but filthy — wet and sloppy. Narumi's hands slam down beside your head, looming over you as your walls clench around nothing. “Yeah? Wanna talk about my viewers?”
“Take a look at the screen behind me. It's got my exact follower count.”
You crane your head to peer over his shoulder. “And?” His lips tug into a grin. “We're changing the game a bit.”
“Not fair, Gen,” you pout, eyes furrowed as your tail comes to rub the softness against his bicep. “I won, so you gotta make me cum twice now.”
“Yeah yeah, well the count's at 18,567 now. Get on your knees before I forget.”
Narumi's easily hoisting you up before you can move yourself, rudely flipping you over and letting your hands scramble to catch yourself, face falling flat against the mattress. But it's fine, he thinks, because cats always land on their feet, or whatever.
“It's at 18,566 now by the way, thanks to you.”
“They would've left either way!” You protest, eyes clenching shut in pain when he grabs a fistful of your tail. “And i don't care about your follower count.”
“You should. Each loss is gonna be plus one for you.”
“Huh?”
He sighs. “18,565... so that would make four orgasms now. Two plus two, my dumb kitty. It's not very hard.”
The realization suddenly hits you, and you crane your neck to look at him. “That's not fair! And that's way too much, I'd never agree to tha-”
One sharp tug to your tail has you biting your words.
“Way too much?” He asks incredulously, kneeling at the foot of his bed, “Didn't think the ungrateful cat would ever be satisfied.”
You flinch as soon as you feel his breath fanning against your cunt, and he notices. You look absolutely delicious like this, pussy pretty and swollen- and completely drenched for him. His fingers are spreading your folds, content with the way your tail starts to sway like clockwork. “But,” you whine, “You lose so many followers. I'll be here forever.”
His eyebrow twitches at the implication.
“That's your fault— you have yourself to blame,” Narumi pushes a finger inside your hole, the digit curling against your walls as you cry out. It takes him a little less time to find your spot each time you're under him. By now... he's got it memorized. Could probably find it in his sleep, he thinks, you're so easy. He'd be able to find it blindfolded too, but it'd be such a breeze that it's not even worth buying a blindfold to find out. “You take a bunch of my followers,” he continues, “And I use up one of those nine lives of yours. Yeah? So sit still.”
“You're the worst.” You pout, face contorting as soon as he slips in a second finger, curling skillfully against your sensitive spot, and oh- you feel his lips ghost just over your clit.
“Yeah yeah— about time I start hearing less talking and more meowing,” he grunts into your cunt, and he's lapping at your slick the next second, tongue roughly flicking over the pearl with precision, and his fingers aren't letting up, still beating your insides as you start to feel the familiar feeling build up deep in your belly.
“A-ah!” You cry out, hands grasping at the sheets as your tail whips upward, back arching deeply to relieve some of the stimulation. It's a lewd position you've got yourself in, and he loves it.
This was the best part.
Narumi can feel his cock ache when he feels your walls hungrily clench around his fingers, your desperate mewls muffled against the soft sheets of the mattress as he laps at your cunt. He loves watching you approach your high, loves the way the brat gets fucked out of you only after he gets you creaming, even if it's just for a bit.
And he's so sloppy with you. He's licking up and down, sucking at your clit before pulling back and lewdly spitting on it, his fingers making your pussy squelch and squirt as he fucks them in and out of you, and oh-if only you could see the way your slick has begun dripping down his wrists. “There you go,” he groans straight into your cunt, and it makes you jolt, “Hurry. I'm aching and it's annoying.”
“F-fuck…” you try to retort with something, anything, but the words get stuck in your throat. You can't. Not with the way your thighs have begun trembling, pretty eyes hazy and lidded as you feel the tight knot balling up in your stomach.
Again? And so soon? This would be the second time you've come undone on his mouth just today, and a part of you wonders what the count is at now— and exactly how you're gonna be able to handle it.
“...Ah! gonna c-cum,” your eyes clench shut, pointed ears twitching, and he's shoving a third finger inside a moment after, reaching deep inside you as his tongue keeps his pace against your swollen little clit. “Gen!”
Narumi's free hand loops around your thigh, pulling you flush against his face, his tongue roughly flicking your clit the same time he curls his fingers particularly hard, and that's all it takes to have you screaming, tail slapping across his face as you gush, the knot snapping inside you with an intensity that has your vision blurring with white.
“Fuckin' whacked my eye, you damned cat,” he growls, fingers slowing his movements as your walls spasm and flutter against him before he takes them out, thick string of slick connecting the two. His tongue is coming to push inside instead, and you cry out loudly when you feel him pushing deeper, appendage curling and reaching deep inside your pussy as he hungrily laps at your juices.
Even when your jaw falls slack, body going limp and falling flat onto the plush bed, he doesn't stop. He keeps you flush against his tongue, forcing you to let him have his fill until you've been reduced to nothing but a sloppy little mess, whining and shaking under his touch.
“E-enough…” You slur, chest heaving up and down in heavy pants as you come down from your high, vision now dotted with blurry little stars.
“Geez,” Narumi huffs, rising back to his feet as he swipes his thumb over his mouth, wiping your juices off before he's popping the digit in his mouth and sucking.“Your stamina sucks.”
“It's at 18,563 by the way, so get up. We're nowhere near finished. Consider this your training.”
You can't respond, and you can't move your legs. The way you struggle to get back on your knees has his ego stroked nice and good, but he's on quite the time crunch. Narumi’s reaching for your tail next, yanking your hips back up for him as you yelp in pain. “All talk, huh? Where's your usual spunk?”
He's roughly pulling you backwards, one quick yank of your tail to fully sheathe himself inside you, and your eyes roll back at the stretch. “Gonna put your nine lives to the test, so you'd better prepare yourself. We're already at 18,561 now and it's all your fault.”
The noises he's pulling from you are just obscene, and the grip he has on your tail is nothing but mean, pulling you back to meet his hips halfway as he pounds into you roughly, foot coming to rest on the edge of the mattress to better leverage himself. “You in heat or something? You're soaked. The bratty cat likes this, huh? Falling in love with me?”
“F-fuck no!” You cry into the mattress, hands scrambling to grasp at the sheets to ground yourself.
“S-said you're just alright— Gen...!”
He's looming over your form the next second, hand pushing your face down into the sheets, your thighs trembling wildly as you whine beneath him. You're way beyond your limit, legs using every ounce of strength left to keep your ass up for him. “Alright?” He spits,“Don't get too carried away— s-shit, don't go forgetting what you are now. My cat, you're my pet. And I’m your owner,” his hips stutter a bit, balls slapping against your clit as you mewl, eyes rolling back in your skull.
You can't even retort if you wanted to. Your back is arching all on its own to take him deeper inside, and he's not letting you move, hand pushing hard against your head to keep you still for him. “Ah, Gen, Gen-”
“That's it. Got you right where I want you, fuckin' pet. Boutta make a mess for me again? Say you love me when you do. Fuck, do that again— you know what.”
You think you might be bleeding from how hard you're gripping the sheets, the painful knot building up in your stomach all over again as you approach your high a little too fast for comfort. “C-close again..!”
“Hurry, lemme hear you. You know what I want.” His fingers come to rub at your swollen clit, and his cock pummels against a spot that has you abruptly crying out as you're thrown headfirst into your third orgasm, hot white flooding your vision as you spasm and squeeze around his cock so tightly. “F-gen! I love you— fuck, love you..!” You gasp when he doesn't slow down, tongue lolling out when you feel your cunt gushing, juices squirting all over his hips as he groans loudly.
“Yeah,” his voice sounds borderline feral, “Good fuckin' kitty. What? Want a treat?” and it's almost pathetic how quick you are to start nodding, eyes cock-drunk and lidded as he chases his own high.
“Well you're not getting one. Check the count yet? It's at 18,560. Know what that adds up to?”
How would you know? Your brain is all fuzzy, vision spotted with splotches of white and the words coming out of your mouth aren't even coherent anymore. The only thing in that mind of yours is how good Narumi feels, how his dick reaches the deepest parts inside you..
Feels so good, god— you love him. No one can do it like him.
“Times up,” he snaps, “That's plus one.”
His voice comes out a little breathless from how close he is, and your walls are tight around his length as your high starts to dissipate- suffocatingly tight. “Gonna give you your milk first, get you nice and full and we're gonna start all over again. How's that sound?”
Your whines are incoherent to him, but it doesn't matter. You're just a cat, anyway.
“F-fuck, stay still and take it,” he rasps, and it only takes him a few more thrusts, a few more until he's groaning loudly, cock spurting thick ropes of cum inside your cunt as you gasp underneath him.
A lot.
You're always in disbelief with the sheer amount, how he always fills you up to the brim, hot spurts shooting against your walls as he groans above you, fingers digging deep into your ass as he holds you still, making sure you're taking in every drop.
“Gen,” you choke, “The count...?”
There's an exasperated sigh from narumi before he's pulling out of you, hand coming to flip you over. The sight of you is really something, tear stained cheeks as you sniffle and hiccup, and oh— you look absolutely ruined, those pretty lips all swollen and pouty and the look you're giving him is to die for.
Your pussy is even worse. His cum has already started to seep out, fat droplets dripping straight onto the tail he knows you're so proud of, the one you're always waving so obnoxiously in his face. Now stained with his cum— as it should be. You're his pet, after all.
“Gonna take out the suit,” he says, “Let’s speed this up.”
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squoxle · 5 months ago
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Hello can u make smthing like heeseung and Yn having s3x in the movie or smthing?
I wasn't sure if you meant at home or in public, but I chose public bc it's just more fun that way. Who doesn't love a little risky play?
Now or Never ~ L.HS
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𐙚pairing: bf!heeseung x gf!reader | 𐙚wc: 500 | 𐙚plot: during a movie date with your boyfriend, you desperately felt the need to be filled, but going home would take too long so it had to be Now or Never... | 𐙚cw:🔞MDNI!! blow job, mutual masturbation, kissing, public sex, insinuated second round
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Maybe it was the way he styled his hair today or the cologne he was wearing, but whatever it was made you think nonstop about fucking him.
To be fair, nothing made you happier than feeling your boyfriend inside you.
You didn't care what hole he used, you just wanted to be filled.
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A large tub of buttery popcorn sat between Heeseung's legs as the movie played. His eyes were glued to the screen and you couldn't care enough to pay attention to what was happening.
You reached over to place your hand on his thigh, and his eyes jumped at your sudden touch. "Are you okay?" he asked looking over to you.
"I'm so horny right now, babe," you hummed, giving him a little squeeze.
"Right now?!"
"Mhm," you nodded.
"Did you wanna leave now? We can go straight home."
"That'll take to long."
"We can do something in the car if you want."
"I wanna do it right here, right now," you whispered, leaning in to kiss his lips.
"But--"
"Please," you knew how much he loved to hear you beg for him. This was exactly what you needed to do to get what you wanted. "It's now or never..."
You watched as he sat back in his seat, pushing the popcorn forward a bit as he one-handedly unbuttoned his jeans, zipping them down before worming his dick out of his boxers.
He stroked it with one hand as you adjusted your position in the seat next to him. You leaned over the arm of the chair and wrapped your lips around his tip, quietly sucking as he grew in your mouth.
Other than being filled, this was one of your favorite feelings, his dick hardening against your tongue. You felt him throbbing in your mouth as you slowly bobbed your head up and down.
You could hear him taking deep breaths as you sucked him off.
"Hold on," he muttered, readjusting his position. "Put my hoodie over your lap," he said handing you his hoodie. You placed it on his lap as he reached his hand underneath to stimulate your clit through your panties.
You hummed at the warm sensation burning inside of you as he played with your wetness. He slid his fingers between your lips as you went back down on his cock.
He groaned, gripping a handful of your hair as you satisfied him. Though it was becoming increasingly difficult, you somehow managed to contain yourself as he fingered you.
You felt him jerk in your mouth as he yanked his fingers out to shove his dick down your throat. He held you down as he emptied himself in your mouth.
"How about a round two in the car," he whispered in your ear as he leaned over your head resting across his lap.
You didn't say a single word to him, you just gave him that look that told him everything he needed to know.
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❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!
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❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa
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hyperiondickrider · 8 months ago
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Baby Bunny~
(Chapter 2)
Vox x Reader; Valentino x Reader; Alastor x Reader; maybe Lucifer x Reader
After your untimely death, Mr Vox was kind enough to take you in and give you a job as his assistant. However, it appears that you’ve caught the eyes of few other demons, who are certainly not afraid of a little competition…
Vox was an angry man. At least, right now he was.
“What the FUCK does that ancient prick think he’s doing, putting his hands on my little assistant?” Yes, Vox was in quite the mood, watching your every step and action through his monitor. Watching Alastor drag you along through public, knowing he could see you both, was simply the most fucking audacious move he has ever made.
“God fucking dammit, I told her not to speak to that old-timey asshole.” Staring at his monitors and muttering profanities, he felt his screen begin glitching and buffering out of severe irritation.
“My, my, Voxxy, I wonder what’s got you so out of sorts, hmm?”
“Shut the fuck up, Val, you fuckin know why I’m pissed.”
“What? You miss the little conejita, hm?”
“Get out of my room, Val. I got work to do.” Through gritted teeth he managed to compose himself, returning his gaze to his monitors, focusing in entirely on you, and your fearful eyes.
The way your bunny ears fluttered when you were thinking. The way you batted your eyelashes in surprise. The way your little button nose twitched when you were upset.
God, it was hard to stay mad at you.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sharp buzzing of his doorbell, likely signally your arrival. He watched on his screen as Alastor bade you goodbye, planting a soft kiss on your hand, and watched your face darken with a blush at the action.
If he was angry before, now he was fucking seething.
No sooner had you entered the building and greeted the secretary, then Vox harshly grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you up to his office, ignoring your pretty little whimpers and pleas on the way up.
Finally in his office, he slammed the door and locked it before speaking.
“Y’know, dollface, I only had one rule for you here. Don’t fucking speak to Alastor. And y’know what, pretty girl? You just fucking broke it.” The lights in the room start to flicker and glitch as his irritation grows.
“‘M sorry, Mr Vox, b-but he wouldn’t l-leave me alone..” you cower away from his as he approaches you, eyes welling up with tears as your nose begins to run.
His anger stalls as he sees your teary eyes, letting out a sigh and releasing his power.
“C’mere, dollface.” He beckons you over, taking a seat behind his desk. As you approach he grabs you by the hips to sit you snugly on his lap, straddling him, as your face grew brighter.
“Y’know I can’t stay mad at you, babydoll. Just promise me you’ll try to avoid that asshole?”
You whimper affirmatively nuzzling into his chest as he pulled you in for a firm hug, reluctant to let you go.
“Okay, dollface. Run along now, Val wants to see you.”
Satan, was he such a sap for you.
Climbing off his lap you walk towards the door on shaky legs, gently waving him goodbye before closing it behind you.
Adjusting your skirt, you decided to go find Mr Val, to give him your report.
Wandering through the building, you finally found a staircase, and climbed up a few flights to reach the porn studios, where Valentino could usually be found. Growing increasingly uncomfortable with the amount of naked people and lube in the environment, you began to get rather desperate.
“Excuse me, do you know where I can find Mr Val?” You timidly asked the nearest actor.
“Uh, yeah, he’s in studio 6 right now, but be careful pretty girl. He’s in a mood right now.”
Hurriedly thanking the actor, you rushed off to studio 6 eager to speak to Val and leave the porn studios as quickly as possible.
“Goddammit, kitty! Why are these putas so fucking incompetent!” The sound of glass breaking indicated Mr Val’s presence, the actor’s observation of his poor mood being dead on.
“Well, if it isn’t the little asistente~ Any news for me, bonita conejita?”
And as always, his piss poor mood could be fixed in an instant by the presence of a pretty little thing. Feeling better already, he pulled you into his lap on his couch, your back against his much larger torso, as he began picking through strands of your hair, humming softly to himself.
“I-i found Angie, Mr Val. H-he’s stayin at the princess’s hotel in the center of town. I-I know you’re sad he’s not stayin with us anymore, b-but I think this could mean his work will improve, s-since he has more space ‘n all..” you trail off, embarrassed at your rambling, while Valentino simply chuckles at your naïve attempt to protect Angel from him.
He turns you around on his lap, blowing pink smoke into your face, making you cough gently.
“Such a kind little bunny, hmm? Trying to protect Angel Dust from the big bad moth man, yes? You really are una conejito estúpida, but such a cute one~”
He grabs your jaw forcing you to look him in the eyes, your skirt riding up as he forces you to lean forward, hands on his chest to brace yourself.
“I could make you a star, bebé bonita~ how’d you like that, everyone would know your face. And pussy I suppose.. no, I think I’d rather keep you all to myself, conejita.~”
He pulls you ever closer to pat your head and rub your ears, knowing just how much you love the attention.
“Hmm, you better go now, bebé. I got films to direct.” With a grin, he’s shoved you off his lap leaving you in a shaky heap on the floor. You carefully hoist yourself off the floor, deciding to head home for the day, all whiny and teary from how worked up everyone’s got you today. Oh well, hopefully Vox will take care of you later.
A/N: I love writing Val so much omg it’s so fun he’s such an ass
Tags: @whocaresimnothere
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liveontelevision · 3 months ago
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Sweet Radio Demon Alastor x Reader
As promised, here she is -
It's inspired by Living Tombstone's song Alastor's Game!
CW: Reader is a cannibal and it's a p big part of the story so mentions and details of cannibalistic intent and murder
♡♡♡
Some people just don't belong in Hell. The structure of divine judgment must be rigged, punishing any poor soul who commits sin without realizing it. Those individuals don't belong.
Then there are those who do. Those who realize there's an afterlife and instantly come to terms with their placement. That's when all the Oh, I'm definitely going to Hell for this jokes start to bite back.
It's always easier for those who choose to be sinners to adapt to Hell's settings. The job market for porn stars and actors is extensive, and protection is almost guaranteed despite the souls owed or deals made.
But, what interested you the most, you depraved sinner you, was the loveliness of Cannibal Town. Not only was it the nicest part of Pentagram City, but you felt right at home considering your appetite when you were living.
It was immense. Some kind of craving that you could never satisfy, no matter how many callers you invited into your home and how many of them never left. You got creative, playing with recipes, spices, and cooking methods, but it was never, never, enough.
Sometimes, you'd wonder how you got to this point. You were a normal enough kid, went to school, had a nuclear home life, and you were comfortable financially, the works.
You remember it feeling like a stomach ache.
A stomach ache that brought you to tears and kept you from school some days. You almost assumed it was something every child went through until you learned what subdued the pain.
Meat.
It was the solution. You ate like a carnivore at first, then the food became increasingly rare as you aged up. Until you stumbled upon some strange forums online (There's something online for everyone, I suppose). You gave in to the cryptid suggestions. You tried rodents at first, only after thorough mental and food preparation, but fuck did it do the job. It made your body shutter and your mind hazy, momentarily melting any thoughts of guilt you might still have.
As time went on, you grew hungrier. Animals weren't cutting it.. but maybe he could.
You found him online, chatted for a while over some messenger, then discovered how much of a dirtbag he truly was. That seemed to disarm you from the whole idea.
Poor thing.
Maybe if he was kind enough, he would have been spared.
You invited him over.
As you watch him approach your door, you tussle your hair, and adjust your clothes that leave little to the imagination. With a continuous, you can do this, you can do this, you're drawn to the knocking of the door.
"Damn, babe, if I knew you actually looked like this, I would've come over sooner." He props his arm on the doorframe as he speaks.
Is.. is that supposed to be a compliment?
Your eye only twitches a bit before you cover your expression with a cute giggle. Holding your hands behind your back, you lean forward.
"Not too bad yourself, big guy. How's a movie sound?"
One thing leads to another, you're seated on your couch, and his hands are immediately on you. For someone who acts so big and tough, his touch is awkward and uncomfortable. Like he doesn't know what he's doing.. probably because he doesn't know what he's doing.
The inexperience helps.
You didn't take into account how large he was. Assuming this would go as planned, you'd be set for weeks, but the actual action of getting him down still worries you.
You're barely an hour into the movie, which you can hardly remember, before his sloppy lips are on yours, which you respond to with a grimace. He doesn't seem to take into account your reactions, grunting against your very unresponsive lips.
Disgusting.
Pig.
He places a large hand on your waist, pulling you roughly to him.
Strong.
Muscular.
You need more. You need to evaluate your prey. You place your hand on his wrist, delicately running your fingers up the entirety of his forearm, tracing and digging into each vein and muscle you can find. That continues up to his chest. Before long, you find yourself straddling him, his wide hips forcing your legs apart a decent amount. Despite his build, his composure clearly shows he's nearly at your mercy. While you're running your hands along his body continuously, occasionally kissing him or letting out fake moans to his ear, you're feeling his ever-growing length pressing into your leg.
You'd be disgusted by the sensation if you weren't planning your next move internally.
You hid weapons everywhere. If you remember correctly, there should be a knife sitting in the crevice between the couch’s armrest and the side table. You just have to reach -
"Take this off." You command with a breathy voice, tugging at his t-shirt that had some unknown stain on it. You almost regret putting so much effort into your appearance.
Oh, well. You're taking notes in the back of your mind for any future endeavors.
You guide his desperate hands to pull the shirt over his head. In one movement, you drop the shirt and take the hidden knife into your hand. You hadn't realized until just now, but -
You're shaking.
You let out a deep breath. With your arms reaching over the arm of the couch, you're essentially caging him in. Nothing looks suspicious yet. Not to him, at least.
You lean in to give him one final kiss. You aren't exactly sure why. It's not doing anything for you. Maybe some sort of sympathy is crossing your mind?
… You'll have to work on that.
You pull away slowly, giving yourself time to examine the state he's in. His eyes are glazed over, his breath shallow.
Now.
Do it now.
You're ready. You've studied anatomy, disarmed yourself to the idea, and prepared for the worst.
You have to do it now.
You straighten your back, the knife now visible to him. He doesn't seem to notice at first until your arms are in the air, hoping to find some momentum in the stab. With your eyes still open, you find the spot where it should end this without too much pain for either party. You dive as fast as you can, but you made a fatal error.
You shut your eyes.
The moment was immediately silenced by the tension of his hand fisting the blade of the knife. He caught it. He stopped it just before it could pierce his chest, only bleeding from his palm. You both sit silently, in disbelief, perhaps.
A silent curse slips from your lips, and that seems to snap him back to this failure of a hook-up.
"You fucking psychopath!" He screeches. He stands, effectively throwing you off his lap as he does so. The action forces a small yelp out of you, and your grip on the knife is immediately taken from you. You stare up at him from the ground.
The tables seem to have turned. He's looking down at you, stumbling and struggling to find his grounding, all the while holding the knife. Despite this, despite his large build and his newfound advantage, he bolts for the door.
Was this better than him attacking you? Will he go to the police? You almost hope he's fragile enough to not admit he was attacked by a frail creature, or that he'll use this as a story to brag to his friends over, I escaped a psycho bitch last night.
You start cursing again. They become more frantic and louder as you follow him out. You watch him stumble off your patio and back to his car. You manage to find reality when a previous thought hits you.
You hid weapons everywhere.
A shotgun sits by your front door. It wasn't the most hidden, but in your defense, it was dark enough outside that it went unnoticed. And you're in a rural enough area that some wouldn't bat an eye at the sight of it.
With shaky hands, you pick it up, already loaded, and aim it at him. He's already in the driver's seat, but you're too exposed to let him just drive off at this point.
You didn't really know much about guns. But in an emergency such as this, it seemed like it would come in handy. So when you took your shot, you never considered the consequences of shooting bullets at a running car, especially with your poor aim.
You come to moments later, fire and pieces of metal surround you. You try to take in your surroundings, but your ears are ringing, and your senses are overwhelmed by the severe burns covering most of your body. You manage to find your home, still mostly intact. The car, on the other hand, is completely decimated.
In the corner of your eye, you think you can spot some resemblance of your date sprawled along the asphalt. With a heavy breath, which you consider might be your last, you let your head drop onto the pavement.
-
"My my, what a predicament you've got yourself into!"
A voice?
It echoes through your head. You can still only see the crackling of the fire surrounding you, and your ears still ring, but the voice seems clear as day. There's a bit of a static to it, but still it's clearnes startles you. You attempt to respond through the pain.
"W-Who-"
"Save your strength, my dear. I'll be quick since it seems you won't be with us much longer." The voice says. You can hear footsteps, a clear clicking of heels that echo in this ethereal space you find yourself. You struggle to lift your head, only catching a glimpse of the stranger kneeling in front of you.
"I'll clean up this little mess of yours, and we can discuss my repayment once you're in less of a.. scorched state. Deal?"
How could you consider the consequences? Or even comprehend his words while you’re like this? You aren't sure what he means, and you have no time to question. Your consciousness seems to be honing in on the burns.
You let out a horrific scream, clutching your arms, only intensifies the pain. If you could see the stranger, you'd see a disturbingly unphased smile.
"Help me - H-Help me! Please!" You beg and cry out, finally reaching out your hand to him.
"So? Do we have a deal?"
"Deal - Deal! Fuck- I-It hurts..!" You sob, biting your blood-dampened lip to prevent any more screams.
He takes your hand, gripping onto the raw skin of your burns. Your next scream comes out silently. You feel your vision blur before your body finally comes to terms with its seemingly sealed fate.
-
You shoot up from your bed, your face running with tears. They feel cool, running down your heated cheeks. You quickly wipe your face, leaving a wet smudge of makeup and sweat across your fingers.
Right.. make-up from the date.
You scan your bed, no man in sight. It’s a relief to wake up in your bed alone. Shifting out from under the covers, you look to your hands, waving them in front of your eyes and running your hands across your own skin.
Smooth.
Maybe even softer than you remember previously.
Some sort of calming amenity seems to be sweeping over your body. With glazed eyes, you examine your body that should be severely burned, yet you feel nothing.
Still, in a state of shock, you rise and wrap yourself in your blanket before leaving your bedroom looking a mess. You roam your home, looking around with still-damp eyes. You feel like a tourist. Like none of this is yours.
Not anymore.
You find yourself standing by your front door, opening it without hesitation. It's a clear sunny day. The grass is just as green, if not greener, and there were flowers there that you don't recall ever planting.
Suddenly, your bare feet against the heated pavement sends a slight panic through you, as the more gruesome details of the previous night conjured in your mind.
That's why nothing looks right. You were sure your porch was blackened by the fire. The grass was a flame, and there was a car - and that man and the voice -
You approach where his car was parked, only to find a torn-up strip of rubber, assumingly from its tire.
"What the.." unable to even complete a thought, a familiar voice only brings up more questions.
"Ah, my apologies! I assure you it is quite out of character for me to miss a spot." You see a disturbingly tall figure come from behind, swooping down to pick up the rubber scrap. He examines it within his red talons, turning it back and forth. You stand dumbfounded, but he goes on anyway.
"So, what exactly caused your date to ..implode? Was he not to your liking? Too handsy? Too-"
...
You're too tired for this.
You rub the sleep from your eyes, turning on your heels and letting the blanket drag across the rugged pavement behind you as you head back inside. You almost expect some sort of resistance from him, a qwip on how rude it is to walk off in the middle of a conversation, but there is none. Maybe you just imagined that little interaction. Maybe there wasn't really anyone there, and you're still tired or still sleeping.
You open the door, and that same bright smile greets you from inside your own home.
That seems to wake you up.
Your wide eyes scan his face, then peek inside your home behind him. You turn back around to see where he previously was, and obviously there's no sign of his travels. You slowly turn back.
"May I speak now?" His voice is laced with a radio filter, and it hits your ears in the strangest way. The reality of the situation turns your exhaustion into apprehension, yet you nod your head anyway.
"I may have caught you in the midst of your disarray, but I must admit, I'm curious about what led to it." He steps aside and gestures for you to come inside. To your own house.
"H-He got the upper hand is all." You decide not to comment, moving inside sluggishly. As far as you know, this strange being has no idea of the sins you've committed. You quickly fib.
"He attacked me, actually."
"Oh, how devastating!" He lets out a saddened sigh, a hand over his heart with fake sympathy. "Now, was that before or after you attempted to drive a knife through his chest?"
With a defeated groan, you flop onto the couch.
"What are you? A sleep paralysis demon? A.. nightmare? Am I still asleep?" You grumble, running the possibilities out loud and not expecting a true answer. You actually hoped that it would all go away. That this voice in your head, this hallucination, is just that.
In your head.
"Ooh, I like the sound of that.. A nightmare~ has a nice ring to it wouldn't you say?" He stands in front of you, his hands folded formally behind his back.
"Now. Enough with the compliments. What truly happened, my dear?” When his voice suddenly turns sympathetic, you find yourself actually in need of someone to vent to.
“Well, since you're clearly just a nightmare - or.. something - ” You sit up, take in a deep breath, and with its release, you reveal yourself.
All of you.
Every single animal you've killed to curb your pain, what seems to work and what doesn't, and the previous nights failure. You talk about the number of friends and family you've scared off throughout the years, everything.
“I.. was gonna eat.. him…” You squeak out your final sentence. You've never really said it out loud before. And never in front of someone else. It made your own blood run cold. Not the thought of the act itself, but just sharing it aloud. your eyes stay fixed on your fidgeting hands in your lap when a loud cackle interrupts your anxiousness.
“My word, aren’t you just the cutest basket case? You're lucky to be dealing with a demon of similar tastes.” He hisses his final words, all with a sly smile. He sounds prideful in his admission. His words seem like they're meant to disarm you, and even though he essentially admitted to being a cannibalistic demon, it works.
“Well.. since we have sooo much in common-” Your voice drags, the notion of being similar to this demon feeling strange to mention out loud, “-would you.. help me? With all this..?”
Expecting another laugh, maybe some more teasing, you're met with a confusing expression. His smile is still there, unmoving, but you catch the smallest twinkle in his eye. He stands and faces away. The hope of finding an outlet for your cannibalistic intent starts to dwindle.
Your misplaced disappointment is overtaken by the flickering of lights and the soft tunes of a radio nearby, one that you recognized but were sure had been broken for decades. He turns his head unnaturally, looking over his shoulder to meet you with blackened eyes.
“I would be absolutely delighted.”
-
“Lucky for you, some of your late-night delivery seemed to withstand the flames!”
You follow that transatlantic accent to your kitchen, unamused by his continuous puns and casual speech. This big scary demon friend of yours presents a commically large plate, with a very familiar carcass sitting atop.
He did nothing to make it look any less disturbing than it truly was. the skin was nearly burned off, the smell was just awful, and the shirt was somehow still recognizable through it all.
You cover your mouth in response. The fact that it doesn't smell much different than some of the other carnivorous meals you’ve prepared nauseates you more than the sight of the corpse itself.
“Quite a specimen, very good choice! But, you needed tips, correct?”
All you can think of to respond is a simple nod of your head.
“Then let's get started!” With a snap of his clawed fingers, a sleek black apron covers his suit.
The next few hours were grueling, but.. fun? If you're allowed to call it that. You were given multiple pointers, and sure, they were all quite helpful, but they were in excruciating detail. What certain parts of the body you should pick or avoid was one thing, but discussing what wine pairs with what organs? It's not a conversation you ever thought you'd have.
By the time the meal looks normal, all decorated with spices in a baking pan and in the oven, you instinctively go to do dishes. As you fill the sink and start bringing things over, a little creature has you nearly tripping. You look down, seeing a strange little stitched doll carrying most of the dishes to the sink. No matter how strange it looked, you respond with a curious hum, fully desensitized to it at this point.
“Huh..” is all you can say. You take any remaining dishes and follow suit, plopping it all into the water. The little doll seems to be tugging at your leg when you try to walk off. It's holding its arms up to you, letting out little murmurs that sound restrained by the stitches across its mouth. You hesitate at first, but scoop it up in your arms and place it aside the sink. And it gets to work scrubbing away.
“Damn, you're cute, and you clean? Can I keep you?” You ask it quietly, giving it a quick pat on the head. It seems to smile.
“Quite a delightful little thing, one of my better creations, I must admit.” The response from him seems to scare the poor thing straight. It immediately lowers its head and focuses on cleaning. You scoff at the interaction between the two. if his own toy is scared of him, should you be as well? “That being said, I simply can not part with it. My apologies.”
“Oh, I was kidding. Mostly.” You reply quietly. You hear the first chuckle from him that seems genuine. No ill intent, just a joyous response to your little quip. It felt kinda.. Nice.
-
“So, Mr. Scary Demon Man-” You clear your throat before you speak. “-why are you here, exactly? did I do something to summon you? Or-” He cocks his head to the side at the title, a little twitch to his eye.
“Not at all, my dear. I simply wanted to help you in your little endeavors, from one cannibal to another, Haha!” His tone goes back to that of a salesman. Like he’s trying to convince you he’s something he’s not.
“Well.. thank you, I guess. I don't really understand why you’d want to help me without wanting something in return, though. You don't seem like-”
“-A charitable man? I suppose that’s fair.” He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. “If you’re so desperate to return the favor, why don’t we strike a deal? Just a little one. Between friends.”
You weren’t stupid. His words made it clear that this was his intention from the moment he chose to save your life. You shrunk a bit.
“Sure, between friends.” You let out a sigh, your somewhat chipper attitude immediately fading. He takes no time to be empathetic.
“Good! Now, you seem to have an eye for food. This meal was ideal considering your poor execution.” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling. “And you can’t get meals quite like this where I’m from. How about you keep providing, with my assistance, and I’ll make sure it’s prepared to the best of my abilities. In exchange for all my hard and generous work, I get half the spoils! Seems far more favorable on your end, but I’m feeling rather generous today.”
Where he’s from? You want to question it. You want to know more about him, you want to know -
“What’s your name?” Your sudden questioning leaves him speechless for a moment, but he’s quick to recover his charming smile. “You never told me.”
“Well, considering you won’t need my name if you don’t agree to this little game, how about I throw that in as well? You provide the living flesh, and I’ll handle the rest. And, you’ll get my name.” He stands before you, a bit too close for your comfort, as he reaches his hand out to you. “Call it a deal?”
An ominous green glow surrounds the two of you. It sends some kind of wind through your clothes and hair. His hand is especially bright, and his eyes go back to that frightening black that you experienced previously.
At the end of the day, if this is what you have to do to stifle those damned pains, it doesn't seem all that bad. You extend your hand, instinctively flinching at the seemingly impending danger. But that still doesn't stop you.
“O-Okay.. Deal.” With the touch of his palm against yours, the glow flashes, forcing your body to tense and your eyes to squeeze shut. It only lasts for a moment, though. When you open your eyes, you first examine your connected hands. His hand is huge compared to yours. From this proximity, you can truly take in how unnaturally tall he is.
Attempting to tug your hand back, his grip tightens, forcing your hand to his lips for a quick kiss to your knuckles. An outdated and surprisingly intimate action leaves you a bit flustered.
“My name is Alastor. It’s been a pleasure, my dear~”
-
And so, your transactional deal went on, right until your demise. You used a similar tactic to bring more meals to your doorstep, finding a handful of poor saps online. You weren’t exactly sure what he meant when he offered his assistance, but when the time came, a strength took over your body that you never experienced before. There were no more shaky hands or sympathy. Your aim was always true, and it was just so easy. Any impending dangers or possible retaliations were alerted to you by a subtle whisper, a voice, coming from just behind you. It was startling at first, but quickly became a comfort.
When it came to preparing the food, which Alastor said he’d handle, you’d essentially leave your victim's remains in the kitchen and would come back to a meal ready for the oven. Sometimes, you’d leave the body as is, limp on the couch, or sprawled on the floor, only when you were too exhausted to deal with the clean-up. On nights like that, you’d wake up to a completed meal the next morning. You liked to picture him going through your home, rolling up his sleeves and wearing that apron, cleaning things up, and cooking in your kitchen how he did that first night.
That being said, you didn't normally see his physical form. There was the lent strength and whispers during your hunts, but other than that, contact seemed to nearly cease. Why was that upsetting you? You cursed yourself for being too much of a romantic - for making this seem like anything more than a delusion you conjured up to make this whole action easier for you.
And that pain? That constant hunger that was never sufficed nearly went away. In fact, you’ve never felt fuller.
He did return on especially rare occasions. You never complained, and you attempted to hide your excitement when you'd catch him lurking in the corner of your eye.
Sometimes, it was to cook for you again. Despite the deal being in full swing, you would ask him to show you some of the recipes. Normally, it would just appear, looking delicious and homemade as always, yet you still pestered him to show you how to prepare some things. He always acted burdened by it, but seeing him cooking felt.. Domestic. Like, when he was cooking, he was truly in his element. It made it easy to forget what he was, which you found yourself questioning less and less. It simply didn't matter anymore.
One particular visit was late into the night. He actually woke you up from the racket, which had never happened before. Stumbling out of your bed, expecting to see police raiding your home or something worse, you’re instead met with a swaying radio demon and a shattered vase. Whenever he was around, soft music would play from your busted radio, a contrasting notion to the fumbling man in front of you now.
“Alastor?” You call out, a wave of relief hitting you and bringing the baseball bat from your hands to the floor. “What the hell are you doing? It’s like.. three in the morning..” The realization of the time makes the previous adrenaline seep out of you.
“Ha-ha! Isn’t that an interesting concept? The Devil’s Hour. Throw some religious implications, and it drives people mad! In reality, it’s just when your feeble body is at its most vulnerable.” He rambles on, spilling the drink from his bottle as he exaggerates his actions. He walks to you as he goes on, his body still swaying. “When your little fragile human heart reaches its lowest speed. When waking you would cause.. distress.” He goes on, his words suddenly sounding melancholic.
“Your breathing is erratic.” He adds, staring intensely at your heaving chest. “And you are hot to the touch-” The back of his claws trace the apple of your cheek, where even you can feel the heat radiating from your skin. Because his voice has no filter. You’ve never heard it like that before. You’ve never heard him sound so human.
His hand traces down your face to press against your chest. He’s feeling your heart. And it’s beating erratically.
“Your heart is fast. Are you distressed?” He leans in closer, to the point where you can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Do I make you distressed?”
In a flustered panic, you push him away. His closeness, his touch, it all threw you off guard.
“N-no, I’m just tired. You woke me up in the middle of the night, asshole.” You cross your arms over your chest, watching him laugh and struggle to find his bearings after being shoved. With a groan, you pull him by his slender arm over to the couch. He sits down with a thud, and you sit a careful distance next to him.
“That is what is so refreshing about you, my dear.” He lets out a dreamy sigh, and you pull the whiskey from his hand before he can break anything else. “Why - you have no idea who you’re dealing with, I could be a powerful demon overlord,” He slurs his words. “But, to you, I’m just your sweet radio demon~” He sings out.
Alastor leans into you, uncharacteristically tapping your nose. You swat his hand away, forcing another loud chuckle from him. He stays leaning forward, even seated beside you, he towers over you. Your wide eyes meet his.
“Even your eyes show no sign of fear. How curious.” You stay like this a little longer. His breath still reeks of expensive whiskey, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes from him. You’re terribly focused on keeping your distance, but he doesn't seem to have the same concern.
With a sly smile, he removes his coat and flips to his back, laying his head in your lap. With his long legs crossed over each other and hanging very much off the couch, you’re almost nervous to touch him. He wasn’t especially touchy, only doing so when necessary; fingers brushing against fingers, a hand on the shoulder for a mere second- why can you remember each moment so vividly? Why is it so fresh in your mind?
“Alastor, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you at home? or.. wherever you are when you're not here?” That’s still something you’ve questioned. You weren’t one to pester him so insistently, wery on losing the good thing you have going on.
“Unfortunately, I’m not sure! Be careful with your alcohol, my dear! Ha-haa!” He slurs out with a grin. “I suppose.. I prefer to be here.”
“What? Why? If you’re some powerful overlord, don’t you have somewhere better to be getting sloshed?” You scoff, keeping your eyes away from his head that was still perched comfortably in your lap. He seems to even nuzzle into your thighs a bit, and it only flushes you more. You take an unpermitted swig of his confiscated drink.
“Hm! Well, I can’t exactly get meat this fresh in Hell-” He taps his chin in thought to your rhetorical question that clearly went right over his head. “-besides! It’s not nearly as nice without you.” He sounds so matter of fact, so sure of his words. You hold your breath, suddenly reliving every moment together before this.
You’d chat and joke around in the kitchen, but you’ve really learned more about him than you thought. How he sews together those strange little creatures. And he seems so proud of them, despite their clear fear of his presence. You noticed he always puts some sort of spice in the meals he cooks, and that even if it's too much, you eat it anyway. How he simply hates getting dirty despite his occupation. He rolls up his sleeves, has that dumb apron, and uses those little toys of his to keep clean.
You loved it.
You’ve done nothing but enjoy every moment with him. You don’t need to know what he is to know that.
Wait, did he say Hell?
“You’re from Hell? There’s a Hell??” With a more shocked exclamation than feared, you finally look down at him. He’s too far gone, humming along to the music, he barely hears your questions. With a clearly defeated sigh, you brush his hair from his face. He winces from the action, his smile wavering but not breaking under your touch.
“Ah, I wish I knew how you survive this cozy little life.” His voice is quiet and mumbled.
You.
I can live this way because of you.
He manages to finish off the bottle with one more swig - when did he take that back?
Your thoughts begin to wander, absent-mindedly twirling strands of hair through your fingers, raking your fingers down his scalp, only to startle yourself with the sensation of animalistic ears. And they’re twitching. Whether it be your reaction or his, it seems to force a little yelp from you, so you reel your hand away.
“I didn’t mean to alarm you, darling.. Could you - or.. You can.. Continue. If you’d like.” His voice had dropped that strange filter again. You feel woozy. That whiskey you had shared, maybe it was strong. Or.. it was the middle of the night, you were sure you were just tired. You spiraled to come up with any reasonable excuse other than developing feelings for a Hellbound demon. You wonder if you-
Oh, you’re definitely going to Hell.
But, could it be something to look forward to?
Your intimate thoughts cloud your mind, leaving your hand mindlessly petting a literal demon. Your fingers combed through his hair, delicately clawing up the ears and pinching the softness at the tip of each one. Despite your thorough and elaborate massage, your mind has wandered to how a relationship with a possible hallucination of a demon would work out. But that's ridiculous, isn’t it?
“Alastor, can I ask you-” your words are brought to a halt and your eyes drop. A quiet hum of satisfaction, leaving a barely conscious radio demon, who’s head still sat in your lap. With a curse under your breath you decide you're trapped.
There was absolutely no chance of escape. What, were you supposed to wake him? What if you upset a powerful overlord demon, or whatever he claimed to be? Albeit uncomfortable, you force yourself to sleep. Enjoy it while you can, who knows if it's even real?
You didn't see him for awhile after that.
-
Alastor was a poinient man. He never missed a pick up before. So when you realized the meat you've portioned off for him was still sitting in your fridge, you start to worry. You're not exactly sure why, you’ve pushed any and every intimate thought from your mind.
This is purely transactional.
Even though his portion had gone untouched for a few days.. A few weeks, if you really think about it, you already had a date set with another victim.
It went on as usual. A dumb hunk of meat thinks he’s all that until you’re straddling him. You decide to stick to what you know works; a knife to the heart.
You mapped exactly where to plant it, as he fiddles with your top, and with a raised arm, you go to claim your next victim.
There was no warning.
There was supposed to be a warning.
The next thing you know, you're pinned to the floor, your wrist being gripped so tightly you have no other option than to scream and lose your grip on the knife.
Your date took no time. No hesitation.
The last thing you see is the opposing view. A stranger straddling your body with a knife held high above his head.
It seems so quiet.
And it's awful.
Where was the warning?
If anything, you should've at least heard Alastor's voice telling you how to avoid this. You always do. A slight pang of worry hits you, but it's quickly overtaken by anger.
With a final yelp that's fueled with frustration, hurt, and a broken heart, you met your demise quickly and alone.
By the time you've come to, you're surrounded by a handful of black eyed children. You immediately scramble backward, hitting your back against a brick wall. You’d notice your surroundings if these little scavengers werent eyeing you with an innocent curioustity. You let out a hiss, holding a hand over your eye. A streak of blackened blood comes from it, your palm thoroughly stained with it.
“You must be new~”
“You’re very handsome!”
“How did you die?”
A bombard of tiny voices and questions go straight over your head, a ringing in your ears forcing your mind to go hazy.
“Alright, give ‘em some space, kids!” A sweet voice seems to bring you back. You look down to your seated body. Your skin is a deathly gray, and your top is stained with your own blood. It’s still red. “Don’t overwhelm the poor thing, I’m sure they’re quite shaken!”
Your eyes then trace up the silhouette of a vintage looking entourage, then to a sharp-toothed smile. The woman stands before you, a hand held out to you.
Her eyes are just as black and her skin is just as pale as those children that now whisper and giggle to eachother nearby.
It didn’t take you long to realize your misfortune.
You died.
You’re upset sure, but you find that you’re mostly angry. None of this wouldve happened if you- if he-
“Come on, cutie! Let’s get you cleaned up.” Her considerate smile clears your mind almost immediately. You don’t hesitate accepting her assistance.
-
“He was supposed to help me. He said he would be there for me! I died because of him..!”
A strained smile and a quick nod is the only response you get to your angered rambling. The kind face that scooped you off the streets was Rosie, one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, who just so happens to own most the souls in Cannibal town.
Lucky you.
She did exactly as she said, having her fun and playing a bit of dress up with you. It wasn't exactly your style, but there were more concerning things when it came to your appearance. Your eyes were just as black as Rosie’s. As those children who have been following you around.. In fact, most residents of cannibal town had this feature.
You really are in Hell.
Right where you belong.
Right along side people who are just like you. It almost felt.. Comfortable.
You confided in her, going on and on about some jerk of a demon who broke a promise that cost you your life. How he had been helping you in fights, saved your life a number of times, taught you how to cook, showed up drunk to simply sit in your lap, then just fucking disapeared when you needed him most. Your face was turning red, from anger or the way you gushed about him, Rosie couldn’t quite decipher.
What wasn’t comfortable was the period clothing you were put in. But according to Rosie, it’s Perfect! What a doll!
“Is Alastor. The radio demon?” She completes your sentence with a sigh, standing to tower over you and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I hate to break it to you, hun, but no one’s seen him in quite a while.. If i’m being entirely honest with you, he’s a dear friend of mine.” You instantly tense at her words. You just went on a rant about how shitty he was, only to find out he’s disapeared with no explanation. Maybe it was a good reason. A good enough reason to leverage your own life? You aren’t sure.
“I have to find him!” You finally say, as if a lightbulb switched in your head. He seemed so unattainable all these years, but now? You’re in his house. “Miss Rosie! Can you help me? His name-”
“I can’t say he didn’t wrong you, but he’s a man of his word, hun.. If he’s not holding up his promises, then he might be in some real trouble.. ” You hear her voice crack, yet she doesn't let her smile drop.
Another factor to consider that Alastor might have bitten more than he can chew, yet she still sympathises with you. You nearly knock the wind out of her with your arms encircling her small waist. Your head rests just at her chest. You can’t see her face, but her arms are around you almost instantly.
-
As you got settled in town, you did actually use the skills that Alastor had taught you throughout your lifetime. You understood why he made your previous deal. Demon flesh was just fine, but you really needed to spice it up to be anything special. And even then, it still couldn't compare to fresh, living, meat.
You started off just making and baking your own food. Then, when one cannibalistic child asked to try some, they told their friends, who told others.
After a while, you were cooking for half the town. You had a line every morning out of your own home. Once Rosie took notice, it was time for you to make a deal.
“Why can’t I sign a contract with you? You’ve done so much for me, I trust you with my soul.” You had taken Rosie out for dinner, where you planned to discuss a potential deal. Even with you barely being in Hell for a year, you heard plenty about Extermination Day, contracts, dealing in souls, all of it. You did your research. You talked to some of the townsfolks and saw no real downside in giving your soul away. Your proposal seems to surprise her, though.
“You still have your soul? Didn’t you make a deal with Alastor?” She asks, quieting her voice when she says his name, as if just the sound of it would make you upset. It only makes your eye twitch, though, just at the thought of the whole ordeal.
“I did, but he didn't say anything about my soul.. Was he.. Supposed to take it?” You question.
“Well.. he’s made deals like that before, favors for favors, right?” You nod. “But to go all the way to Earth just for some food? That’s.. Not like him…” Rosie seems to be lost in thought, trying to piece together his intentions. You clear your throat, and attempt to calmly bring her back. You slide a tupperware container of lady fingers you had made just before this.
“I want a restaurant, Rosie. I’ve been keeping an eye on that abandoned shop in the town square. I can feed everyone in town if you’ll let me. And.. protection, of course. Would that work?”
She opens the box with a sparkle in her black eyes, almost immediately popping one of the delicate treats to her lips. With a hum of satisfaction and a snap of her fingers, the glowing golden paper floats in front of your eyes.
“It’s a deal, darling!”
-
You could barely call it a restaurant at first, but you were elated. Rosie granted you some extra hands to make deliveries and assist in the kitchen. Everything seemed to be going your way. Your first extermination day went by quickly. For some reason, angels weren’t destroying everything in town. And you and your little shop were both safe, untouched, really.
You had a steady job, loving customers, and a residency near the center of town. You were almost surprised how having a shared interest, in eating human flesh, can bring people together. And after just a few years, you had a community.
You had a family.
Something you never really though you’d have, in life or death; A home.
Things were going so well. This was supposed to be your happy ending. It had been a few years since you had signed the contract, and you still feel satisfied with your decision. You could really be yourself here.
In Cannibal Town.
In Hell.
It made you laugh sometimes, how much joy the underworld brought you.
On a say that seemed like any other, you had sold out your stock for the day early, and went on to send the rest of yout employees home, when you heard a ruckus near the gazebo.
The screech of a microphone, and a very distant agitated Susan, is all you can truly hear from where you are. You drop everything to join the crowd.
It was the princess of Hell.. You weren’t one to keep up with politics or media, there was no need for you. You entertained yourself plenty just by residing in town. But, you managed to hear her blow up before being dragged away. A tall, rugged figure takes their place, ready to entertain the crowd while the Princess gathered herself.
“Come one, come all! While our little princess is collecting herself, who would appreciate a quick song, hm?”
“There is no fucking way..” You mutter to no one but yourself.
Alastor.
He holds his hand up to his ear, waiting patiently for the adoring crowd to praise his presence before he went on. You knew Rosie was a friend of his, he was a cannibal afterall, but for the entire town to love him just as much? Including Susan?
It’s absurd.
He went on to perform some showtune, one that sounded familiar to you. The crowd excitedly surrounds the pavilion, dragging you nearly to the front. You held a look of disgust. A look of betrayal.
You didnt want to see him, you told yourself. Things were perfect as is, you felt no need to repair a relationship with your imaginary friend you conjured up while alive.
Although, you never thought you had to. He had been gone for years, he nearly became just a passing thought.
An unreasonable part of you stayed put. A part of you wants him to see you and recognize you, to remember what he had forgotten. You stood with your arms crossed, your heart beating rapidly just at the sight of him.
He looks entirely the same, completely unphased. You’ve changed so much visually, and you’re happier now. Bolder. You’re not shying down now.
He catches your eyes.
The music screeches to a halt, sounding like a record player needle dragging across the disc. You’re holding back a smile, almost proud that you were able to stop him in his tracks. This had to be the first time he’s thought of you in over seven years.
And stops singing.
Lucky for him, the princess is finally ready to make her own point. You stick around, not exactly paying attention to her lyrics. You keep your face of disdain strong, stepping away and flinching at any advance Alastor would make to reel in the crowd. He seems to distract himself just fine until Charlie whisks away the crowd. Again, you're firmly planted in your spot.
Alastor turns to you, much more apparent of who he’s dealing with now that you stand alone from the crowd. His ears are flat against his head, and his smile is turned at the corners. His eyes seem to dart back and forth as if he’s deciding whether or not to stay. To be with you.
Oh, he’s nervous.
You’ve never seen him nervous before. It feels good. You’re making the almighty Radio Demon nervous. You smile just slightly. But not a smile between old friends, but a smile in response to his realization that he fucked up.
Despite your delay, Alastor continues on with the rest of the parade. Your body immediately lost all tension once he leaves.
-
“Well, well! I knew I recognized that menu. I was ready to tear apart some poor sinner for using my recipes.” A familiar, antagonizing voice echoes throughout your little empty shop.
You turn on your heels, almost startled by the sudden intrusion.
Almost.
But, you'd be lying if you said you weren't hoping for it.
Just a little.
Of course, he'd come back. Maybe to make another lowly deal. Or to get you to do more menial tasks for him, to flaunt his power and authority.
“Yeah, well.. when you've been left for dead, and all you have is your skills, you do what you have to, to survive.” You snap, turning your back to him to continue wiping off an already spotless counter. “Plus, it never hurts to marginalize.”
“I've actually tried some of your food here.. Hm! And I hadn't the slightest idea who prepared such a meal. You've gotten better, I'll give you that! Such a small world.” He says with a nostalgic sigh. You can hear his heels clicking throughout the empty store, circling the room before eventually approaching you.
How can he speak to you like you were still.. aquitanced?
“I hope whatever kept you busy these seven years was worth my life.” You mutter. You weren't sure if you wanted him to hear that or not. Maybe if he did, he'd finally apologize or-
“Oh, it was! A nice little sabbatical is exactly what I needed.” You quickly turn to see him polishing his claws against his coat and smiling quite brightly. “I will say it is a pleasure to be meeting you here! I'm glad you settled in so easily.”
“You killed me, Alastor! You were supposed to keep me safe.. and now I'm dead! Because you disappeared without a word!” You start to scold him, finally hitting a breaking point. All he does is scoff at you.
“Oh please, I didn't even take your soul. And it's not like you'd end up anywhere else if you were to perish later on.” He speaks so casually about it all.
But, you were ready to cry. To kick and scream at his arrogance.
The feeling of sharp fingers engulfing your shoulders leaves you suddenly tense and puts your murderous thoughts on hold. He's vanished from in front of you and now looms over you, his eyes meeting yours from over your shoulder.
“Plus, you seem to be quite happy here! Why don't we just call it even then, hm?”
He can not be serious.
You pull away from him, the tears welling in your eyes finally letting loose.
“Alastor, stop!” You yelp, turning to face him. “That’s.. so unfair! You broke a promise! And you-” you hold your finger out to scold him even more, but you feel your body simply going slack. “-you hurt me.. I just.. thought that after all that time, after that night, you'd care a little more..” You look up to him, in the hopes of being met with some sort of sympathy. But his unnatural smile goes unwavering. You rub your arm awkwardly, losing your confidence as your words turn more vulnerable without your realizing.
“Oh, I can feel your pain, not to worry dear. I truly meant no harm when I couldn't hold up my end of the deal.” He's smiling and drawing out his words, only setting off a sense of unease within you. You finally let out a shaky sigh.
“With everything you've done for me.. I thought that.. you might've liked being around me…” You let out, your voice running slightly ragged from the previous shouts. “I thought we were having a good time! Then after all this?” You grow an uncertain smile.
A previous sight that made you giddy before only brings you dread now. His ears are flat, his eyes struggle to meet yours. He's losing his composure.
“I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted it to happen.” You laugh through your words, your hands raking through your hair in a stressed manner. In your little pits of passion, you don't get the chance to see his wavering smile, the grimace on his face, any of it. When your words are met with silence, though, that's when you finally look up to him.
He's nervous, again.
“Oh.. my-” your sentence barely starts before he attempts to cover his slip up.
“Now let's calm down, I really didn't mean for- I didn't intend-”
“Isn’t there rules to this? Were you ever allowed to meddle with my life in the first place - let alone - be on Earth??”
“-God! You killed me on purpose?? Just so I could come down here to do your bitch work?” You snap, your laugh becomes delirious and your tears betray the anger you're meant to be showing.
He’s scrambling for a witty reply, his expression finally showing his true intentions for the first time in a long while. He’s speechless.
“I’m such an idiot.. Of course, you never cared. Bastard.” You mumble your words to the room, losing any fear of him hearing your insults.
Your vulnerability sends a strange shiver down his spine. One he’s never felt before, one that makes his chest ache and his muscles tense.
“Well - Now, let's just talk for a moment before you-” Alastor extends his hand out to your turned back, but it never reaches you. A delicate grip takes his wrist, bringing him to a full stop. He stops, unnaturally snapping his neck to see who would dare disrupt the Radio Demon himself.
His ears flatten against his head, and with a sudden disbelief in what he’s seeing, his eyes return to their normal crimson.
Rosie towers over his hunched form, her eyes stern.
♡♡♡
“Al, sweetheart, you gotta go. You're disturbing my client.”
I love when Alastor fucks up and found out
THIS IS A TWO PARTER I PROMISE
Tag list:
( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee / @0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r @sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora / @carrie0-1 / @shamblezzz / @cassandras-nest / @the-maladaptive-daydreamers / @str4wberry-t00th-anon / @voxrei / @raythegay )
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scorpioriesling · 2 months ago
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Invisible String - Part 2
・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
Pairing(s): Eris x reader
Warning(s): light angst if you squint. Please be advised; future parts might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.
Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.
SR’s Note: I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't begin the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come. For those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- get excited! Nonetheless, I hope readers will enjoy this series that came to me in a dream one night. (; Much love to all.
Tags: @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @talesofadragon @rcarbo1 @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kitsunetori (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)
・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
You paced back and forth awkwardly around your room, not sure what to do with your time. Normally, you'd give Riley a bath and see her off to bed -- but not tonight. Her father had come home during dinner today, and you almost couldn't believe your eyes when he'd materialized before the both of you in the dining room.
Gods, you'd never seen her so excited to see him come home in all the time you'd known the two. She truly missed him when he was gone, just waiting to see her dad come home at the end of the day. You understood; to be honest, you worried some nights when he would be gone late, always apologizing like his timing was the end of the world. He failed to realize that it was his safe return you were more concerned with.
You paused, shrieks of laughter heard from the opposite end of the Wing and you smiled to yourself. Padding over to your open doorway, you peeked your head out, listening as Eris' faint voice spoke with his daughter, saying something that had her giggling once more before you heard the distinct sound of her door latching shut. You retreated back into your room, trying to find anything to busy yourself as the sound of his shoes drew nearer toward your room.
"Could I offer any help with the last of those?" Eris asks, leaning casually against the doorframe as he gestures toward the stack of heavy boxes piled in the corner of your room. You turn, crossing your arms and then uncrossing them, not quite finding a comfortable position.
"Um... well, I could probably get them, tomorrow." You shrug, biting on your lower lip. Eris' eyes study your face for a long moment before he chuckles, walking over to the pile and pushing up his sleeves with such grace. He lifts the top box, his arms flexing under the weight as he adjusts his grip under the edges.
You try, really, really hard not to stare.
"I'll leave these outside to be picked up in the morning, unless you needed them to be kept for something?" He asks, and you all but shake your head before he heads out of your room, leaving you in awe. You shake your head, get it together. That is your boss, for Gods sakes. You take a deep breath, pushing your hair behind your ears before reaching for the next highest box, barely reaching the upper rim before its contents nearly spill over on top of you.
"Cauldron damned-" your curse is cut off when the box doesn't completely dump out on to you, but is caught haphazardly between your hands and one of Eris'. His other one is wrapped around your waist, preventing your impending collision with the floor.
"Woah! Woah," he says, his voice much closer than you expected and you open your eyes you'd inadvertently squeezed shut. He loomed over you, holding you so close to his chest that you sucked in a breath, your eyes widening when they met his peering down at you.
"I'm..." you made to stand, and he lifted the cardboard from your hands. "I thought I could help with that one." You said sheepishly. He chuckled, glancing sidelong at you.
"Always trying to do everything," he muttered. "Honestly, I'm just surprised to hear Y/N actually say a bad word out loud."
You set your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow and ignoring his teasing remark.
"This is my mess, anyhow. I was just trying to help."
He turns, heading for the door once more.
"Allow me to help you for once, hm?" He says, winking and walking out. You roll your eyes, irritated at how warm your cheeks feel. You flit about the room, putting random smaller items away and folding a few articles of clothing as Eris makes the last few trips. When he comes back in for the final time, he sits on the edge of your bed with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.
You look to him, noticing his exhaustion from the day again. "Thank you," you say, and he looks to you again. He offers you a small smile, leaning back on his hands.
"For all that you've done, helping you move a few boxes is incomparable." Your lips curve upward as you place a few more of your skirts inside the drawers of the dresser, averting his eye. After a few shared moments of quiet, he speaks again.
"This room... its... I'm glad someone is using it again." He says, his hand running softly over the duvet. You glance at him, his fallen expression puzzling as you go about tidying up.
"Oh?"
He's quiet again before he looks at you. "I used to avoid coming in here, after... well, after Selene left." He says quietly, and you pause. The air feels thick, you try to keep breathing evenly as your mind races.
"She... the two of you didn't share...?"
"No." He whispers, looking at the floor. "She thought only mates should share a room."
You shoved the drawer closed, walking slowly to the bedside and sitting next to him.
"I'm sure this is common knowledge by now, but our marriage was simply a transaction, a sign of goodwill between our courts." He let out a humorless laugh. "No magic, golden thread there."
For everything he'd done for his court, all the battles he'd won, every fight he'd fought and all he'd witnessed... this was a subject he rarely discussed, as it seemed tomdrag him down the most.
"Eris..." You said softly, reaching out a hand timidly and placing it on his arm. He braced lightly against the touch, and you leaned closer. "I'm so sorry that you were treated that way-"
He sniffed, his hand rubbing along his jaw quickly before he stood, your outstretched hand slowly retracting with the distance between you two.
"It's alright. Nothing for you to worry about, anyway." He flashed a humorless half-smile, and you stared up at him with concern. You could tell it was a tough subject for him, and you definately didn't want to pry; but he didn't exactly have many other people to open up to.
"Well... alright then." You say defeatedly. He nods, turning and heading for the door. He looks over his shoulder only once more before closing the door behind him.
"Sleep well, Y/N."
・゚: *✧・゚:*
"Apple juice, please?" Riley asks, and you pour her a fresh glass, delivering it to her awaiting hand. She sips quietly, then blinks a few times when you sit down beside her. "Oh -- thanks!" She smiles.
You nod, silently praising her good mannered habits. You could still remember when you arrived at the Forest House, the little spitfire was ordering people around at the ripe age of three. "Give this!" and "Do that!" was all she managed, and though her heart was pure, you did encourage better etiquitte; luckily, it stuck.
"Daddy said he have a surprise," she swung her legs under the table, some of her juice swishing in her cup. You raised an eyebrow.
"Did he, now?" You weren't sure what she was talking about, or if there really was a surprise at all. Eris had made haste this morning, rushing past you this morning on his way out the door. He'd barely kissed his daughter goodbye before he was on his horse and halfway to the border-
"He did! He said he had one." She insisted, and you nodded in understanding. What it could be, you had no clue.
"Well, lets finish our dinner so we're ready when he gets home, yes?" You suggest, and Riley agrees, jamming the last of her chicken nuggets into her mouth and chewing with maximum effort. You shake your head, smiling at just how normal the girl was. You were just glad she found joy in chicken nuggets still, and didn't request challenging dishes every meal quite yet.
Insisting on wearing her fluffy pink footie pajamas, Rylie then sat in your lap on the couch, her stuffed beagle clutched in her hands as you brushed out her wet-clean locks.
"Braid it pretty?" She asks, and you leaned in, kissing the top of her little head. She grinned, holding her little beagle's head to her lips and kissing it's head just the same.
"Anything for you, Riles," you say, getting to work on the long strawberry strands. She sits very patiently for a four year old; that is, until you've secured the band at the end of your work and the front door creaks open.
"Daddy!" She's up in an instant, running to the door with glee and clinging to her father's leg the moment she spots him. You stay seated a moment longer, listening from the living area but not quite ready to see Eris yet. After the tense conversation last night, you couldn't help but feel... awkward, after the conversation.
After a few minutes, Riley has retreated to the living room looking rather dejected. Your brows knit as she stalks toward you, her beagle hanging limply from her fingers.
"Daddy says bedtime. You take me please?" She says, looking down at the floor. You frown, your hands lifting under her arms as she wraps her legs around your waist.
"Of course sweetie," you try to sound upbeat, but she only lays her head on your shoulder. You pet her head, wrapping your other hand around her to keep her propped up against your waist as you make your way to her end of the Wing. You look around as you go, not seeing any sign of Eris on your way. He literally just got home, what the Hell could he possibly have to do right now?
Once you reach her room, you place her gently atop her plush duvet, her eyes half closed when her head touches the pillow. You pull a loose blanket over her legs, knowing sometimes she gets cold at night, and kiss her little cheek one last time before moving toward the door.
"Y/N," she whispers. Your eyes meet hers in the dim light, your fingers stalling as they reach for the glowing tableside lamp.
"Yes dear?"
"Can you please read? Please?" Her bottom lip trembles. "D-daddy always reads... he reads my book..." she sucks in a breath of air, and you rush over to her bed, taking her little hand in yours.
"Yes, of course honey!" You say, hoping she will feel better. "I would love to read you a story," you look left and right, searching for any tomes near her bed. She lifts a limp hand, her finger pointing to the book resting at the opposite end of her bed.
"You'd like that one? The Kissing Hand?" She nods, one tear slipping free and running down her cheek. You hastily grab the book, and she scoots over, making a space for you to lay beside her. You scoot close, reaching an arm around her and she snuggles close as you flip open the book. Her little fingers wipe her tear from her cheek, and you begin to read.
・゚: *✧・゚:*
You weren't sure when you'd drifted off, but when you slipped back into consciousness, your back ached from its cramped position on the small bed. You looked around, the darkened room coming into view as well as the peacefully sleeping babe next to you.
You must have fallen asleep reading to her, you thought. Surely you'd left the lamp on though; its glow would come in handy now as you tried to slip silently out of her embrace, sneaking out in absolute darkness. At least the door was still cracked open.
You'd stumbled around quietly enough and made it down the hallway to the kitchen, the clock on the wall coming into view.
Four in the morning. Gods.
You kept walking, feeling along the walls until you found your bedroom door, and let yourself inside.
・゚: *✧・゚:*
You woke up that morning to the delicious smell of cinnamon and sugar, the comfort of your plush bed surrounding you as the first light of day drifted through your curtains. You yawned, stretching out your arms and slowly opening your eyes.
Ahh, what a lovely morning.
Morning. The sun was out.
You threw the covers off of you hastily, your bare feet hitting the cold wood floors in a rush as you lunged for your door handle. Riley was surely awake by now, and surely starving. You bounded down the hallway, your steps faltering when you heard her familiar ramblings from the kitchen and registered the smell of food wafting through the air.
As you approached, you watched in pure shock as Eris stood over the kitchen island, his hand holding his daughters as he helped her spread icing over a tray of steaming cinnamon rolls, smiling and talking along with her. He hadn't noticed you walk in; but she sure did.
"Y/N! Finally! You're awake!" She squealed happily, and you forced a smile, still confused by the scene before you. Eris looked up then, his eyes meeting yours only briefly before he went back to the treats he was making.
"Good morning Riley," you said hesitantly, stepping closer toward the island. Eris' eyes flicked up again, snagging on the silk pajamas you'd changed into before collapsing onto your bed last night. You crossed your arms over your chest.
"Good morning. Eris." You said, and his mouth pressed into a thin line.
"Morning Y/N." He said plainly before turning to Riley, lifting her off the counter and setting her on the ground.
"Bunny, why don't you set the table," he handed her the silverware and a few plates. "And we'll join you in just a few minutes?" She nods, skipping into the dining room, as Eris braces his hands against the countertop, his eyes locked on yours once more.
You stare back, shrugging when you can't understand the point of standing in silence. "What?" You ask. He sighs, biting the inside of his cheek.
"Y/N, I'm sorry for the... discussion. We had. The other night, it was... highly, unprofessional." He nodded, looking down at the pan of cinnamon rolls once more. You raised an eyebrow, a soft laugh erupting from your lips and causing him to flick his gaze to you again.
"What is funny?" He asks, seeming a bit taken aback.
"Nothing, no," you say, smiling softly at him. "I just... Eris, I live in your home. I spend every day with your daughter. I think we're beyond professional, aren't we?" You say. He cocks his head to the side, a small smirk curving the side of his lips.
"I suppose we are, then."
・゚: *✧・゚:*
"Daddy. These cimanim rolls. Are. Delicious!" Riley grins with delight, Eris' expression a mirror of his daughter sitting next to him at the table. You watch the two and your heart swells; one day, you could only dream of having something so special as that.
"Why, thank you Princess!" Eris says, and she holds her chin high. You shake your head at her, and Eris' eyes meet yours, his face giving away exactly what he's thinking. After a few more quiet moments, he speaks up again.
"Bunny, I wanted to ask you about doing something fun today," he says, and Riley immediately perks up.
"Fun?" She asks, and he nods.
"In the Town Square, there is the Autumn Festival, and it would make me very happy as your daddy if you would go with me-"
"Yesss!" She shrieks, every single one of her teeth showing as she smiles in excitement. You can't help but feel so happy for her -- she deserves time with her father, and he's finally home to spend it with her, doing something she had been longing to do anyway.
"Ohmygosh I can't wait! I will wear my Princess dress so everyone knows I am a Princess, okay," she explains hastily, only pausing to take a sip from her glass of milk.
Eris nods, looking to you. "I figured you may appreciate at least a day off as well," he adds quietly, and you offer him a gentle smile. Truly, you didn't need one, but you appreciated his consideration all the same. Riley doesn't quite catch the incinuation, though.
"Y/N, you have to wear a dress. You can't borrow from me this time because you're too big," she says, hopping from her chair. "You have a dress?" She asks. Your eyes meet her dad's and his mouth opens to answer first.
"Bunny," he starts. "I don't think Y/N was going to come today," he explains. Rileys brows knit in confusion as she looks at him.
"Why not?"
"Well," he says, trying to tread lightly. "Maybe Y/N has other things she would like to do today. It's okay though; just me and you can go." He says, but Riley looks to you, her eyes looking you up and down.
"What... what else do you want to do though?" She says, and you chuckle.
"Riley, honey, today you can go have fun with your daddy, alright? Me and you play here everyday," You reason with her. She doesn't let up, and Eris studies you from across the table.
"Daddy -- can Y/N just come too?" Riley says. You sigh, looking to Eris for help, but he only stares quietly at you, a small smile on his lips.
"I really will just stay here-"
"Yes." Eris says, and you meet his eyes, Riley spinning in happy little circles at the end of the table. "Y/N can absolutely come with us today."
・゚: *✧・゚:*
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wordsbyrian · 1 year ago
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Ma’am do you write for Leila Ouahabi? A writer posted a bunch of old requests she won’t be writing and this one caught my eye: (Leila uses R as a shield everytime ESPWNT teammates scare her)
A/N: Look I wrote a thing after *checks watch* ... actually lets not talk about how long its been.
If there is one thing you’re certain of in life, it’s that your girlfriend is a massive scaredy cat.
As tough as she may appear to people who don’t know her very well (especially when it comes to her antics on the field), you and all of your national team teammates know that the slightest noise or sudden movement can make her jump out of her skin.
And since everyone knows this, they all make it their job at camp to scare her at every possible movement.
In the past, you had been completely fine with this but recently Leila has taken to using you as a shield against all of your teammates' attacks.
The first time it happened, you had no choice but to be shocked.
The two of you had been walking down the hall after training when Mapi jumped out at you from an alcove.
Leila’s hand, which had been loosely wrapped around your waist immediately tightens, but instead of pulling you behind her like you thought she would, you get tugged against her chest as she crouches down behind you and hides her face in your back.
This leaves you staring blankly at Mapi who can barely hold herself up she’s laughing so hard.
Sighing deeply, you loosen Leila’s grip on your body and turn to face her.
“Seriously?”
You watch for a few seconds as Leila stutters and stumbles her words, Mapi still laughing behind you.
“Seriously,” you say again.
“Mi amor,” your girlfriend tries, reaching out for your hand, only for you to take a step back while glaring at her.
“Idiotas.”
You glare at her one more time before turning and leaving the two best friends standing there.
Of course, word of what happened spreads quickly through the team, which means that you find yourself in the position of a human shield with increasing frequency.
Which, in turn, means that Leila finds herself on the receiving end of your glare with that same frequency.
Your teammates all take any and every opportunity to scare your girlfriend into the dog house.
Even Alexia has gotten in on the action, quietly walking up behind the defender and scaring her so badly that the older woman leaps into your arms.
Rolling your eyes, you adjust your grip on her to hold her more securely and continue walking back to Leila’s hotel room. Tossing nothing but a simple ‘bye Ale’ over your shoulder on your way.
In its own twisted way, your non-reactions become a challenge to your teammates in it’s own right.
As time passes and more camps come and go, they come up with new and increasingly outrageous ways to try and get a rise out of you.
Most of them fail.
Ona is the one with the best attempt. It’s probably because she knows that both you and Leila have a soft spot for her.
It happens one morning at breakfast, near the end of camp, just as you point out to Leila that the younger woman she’d claimed as her cousin hasn’t been seen yet.
Just as you finish saying, Leila begins freaking out saying that something touched her leg.
Rolling your eyes, you lean over to check under the tablecloth to reassure your girlfriend that there’s nothing down there but you don’t do much other than look at your feet before sitting back up.
Unfortunately, Leila continues, to insist that something is touching her leg. So much so that you reach down and move her legs so that their resting on your lap.
Breakfast continues mostly in peace after that…
…until you feel something grab your leg.
The first few times it happens, you just shake it away and continue eating.
But eventually, it wraps itself fully around your ankle.
Naturally, this startles you. So in a surprising display of coordination, you pull Leila into your lap while pushing away from the table at the same time.
There’s also a very impressive string of curse words that you let out.In the middle of your tirade, you spot Ona crawling out from under the table.
“Joder. Hijo de la gran puta.”
Clearly, you are causing a scene and drawing the attention of all your teammates and the coaching staff but you can’t really find it in you to care. Especially not with the way both Leila and Ona are laughing so hard their faces are turning red.
Rolling your eyes at the pair of clowns, you stand up (letting your girlfriend drop to the ground) and begin to walk away.
Stopping just before you reach the door, you turn around and look back at Leila and Ona, who are now leaning on each other trying to catch their breath.
“Alright I’ve let everyone have their fun,” you say, “but we all remember what happened the last time I joined in on a prank war.”
And with that, you walk out of the room, trying not to laugh at the sound of multiple people scrambling to chase after you.
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seraphdreams · 2 years ago
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NO PHOTOS — BAJI KEISUKE/KAZUTORA HANEMIYA.
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— CONTAINS. fem!reader, 3some, slight choking, praise/degradation, reader is referred to as sweetheart and doll, multiple rounds, tora is an energetic fucker. 18+ mdni.
— WORD COUNT. 4.0k
— NOTES. this is like my 50th repost cause i’m trying to not get flagged but i hope you enjoy the first addition to this miniseries. i really loved writing it all and i hope i don’t have to repost it again :( also listen to the song “no photos” by don toliver!
— LINKS. series masterlist — general masterlist.
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They say rivalries could fuck up a friendship.
Not particularly for Baji and Kazutora though.
Rivalry was invigorating to them, something they needed in their day to day lives like water to survive, and even after their childhood years, they still found themselves battling against each other somehow. So, it didn’t come as much of a surprise to Kazutora when he arrived at Bonten’s freshly established headquarters, complete with its own separate hotel and casino, to see that his opponent was Shibuya’s best, Baji Keisuke.
A smirk then followed a laugh when Hanemiya thought over it more. Baji? It’d been years since he last saw his best friend, his only fond memory being attending Keisuke’s graduation; How strange of someone with their veterinary degree to take on racing. To each their own, he presumed.
In turn, however, Kazutora spent most of his time in jail. Trouble seemed to follow him everywhere he went like a lost puppy with its unreliable owner. And at the end of every day, he promised himself he’d get better—He had to. And he did. Prison struck the opportunity for him to pick up new dexterities, other than his last hobby of breaking and entering. With that, he grew increasingly knowledgeable in the field of motorbikes. Once he got out, he landed himself a job at a local bike shop. Comfortable; the pay was great, he did what he loved, and when he was exceptionally lucky, he’d get to compete against others in his area, being an undefeated favorite as well.
Now with him settled into his suite, alongside his roguish roommate, the need for competition grew stronger.
“It’s been a minute, huh, Keisuke?” Kazutora sighs out, laying across the opposite side of his bed. Coming from Tora, it was rich. Rich in the sense that whenever it came down to the two going head to head back in Shibuya, Kazutora conveniently found himself sitting in a cell. “Sure has. I was startin’ to think your bum ass was scared of me.” Baji responds with a snicker, adjusting his head on the headboard of the luxurious hotel bed.
“Never. But hey..” Kazutora starts, sitting up straight and resting his weight against his hands behind him. From the shift in octave of his last vocables, Baji knew to listen intently despite aimlessly scrolling on his phone. Probably looking at bikes again..
“Y’seen that new girl Bonten’s been hoarding? Fucking gorgeous.” Kei’s focus flits immediately to Hanemiya. “New girl?”
If you could only see the look on Tora’s face when he described you, as if he’d seen an angel from Heaven and came back down to Earth just to report it back to Baji. It was entertaining to say the least, how expressive he got when telling Keisuke you were about this tall, and your hair was the sexiest shade of this color, and he can’t fucking forget about your body. Each dip and curve of your frame was engraved into his brain with so much depth that if he’d somehow end up with amnesia, he couldn’t forget—He wouldn’t forget.
“Sounds like a real peach. The hell they need her for?” Baji queries. The truth being, Bonten needed you as a morale booster. Someone to remind them they were human even after a gruesome day’s work, and of course at times they’d get distracted, bend you over the desk in God-knows-who’s office just to make the prettiest mess out of you. It kept their spirits high, and they were fun men so you didn’t mind as much as you should’ve.
Kazutora thought for a second on what his next words would be. Spontaneously, he asks, “Wanna find out?” The question didn’t quite register in Baji’s mind until Tora graciously added that you were the designated flag girl. What a shame it’d be if you didn’t get to know your racers a few hours before they become less than friends and more than foe.
Last night’s packing took an immense amount of your energy, leaving you only to manage a quick shower in the morning after less than a full night's rest. You blamed Haru; That forgetful bastard, only he would make the mistake of relaying to you that the flight leaves at 6 A.M instead of P.M, which forced you to scramble for time you thought you had.
When you finally arrived at your suite, you opted for a nap to rejuvenate lost time, and fortunately you had been granted the night shift at what was beginning to feel like your new part-time job. You slept soundly without distractions for the next few hours, and once you awoke, a necessary shower was in your presence.
It wasn’t until you stepped out of the shower that you noticed your phone buzzing on the counter, paired with an unknown caller ID at the top of the screen. Normally, you’d ignore it, wait for the ringing to stop and carry on with whatever plans you had for the day, but since Bonten had a particular way of wiring your phone, to say the least, who knew what business you could be called in for.
“Hello?” You hold the phone between your ear and shoulder as you drape the towel around your dampened body. A soft voice projects through the other line, so gentle as though it were merely a whisper. “Is this Y/N?”
You move on to heading out the bathroom and into the bedroom where you set the phone on speaker and begin to apply your smell-goods. “Mhm, what’re you calling for?” There’s a brief bout of silence from the other side until the familiarity of hearing that docile tone vacated and it was replaced by a deeper, brasher timbre. “Y’not busy, are ya? Gotta race in a minute ‘nd ‘m losin’ motivation, sweetheart.” The sentiment of the pet name had heat surging through your body.
This must’ve been what Rindou was talking about. And to think all that talk about needing to “stick close by his side” because the others were bound to want you, was just a scheme to be possessive. Maybe actually listening to Bonten could teach you a few things.
You weren’t dumb as to not realize who was on the phone. It clicked for you the moment you heard his voice. He was your Boss’s friend, the one you reigned attractive against the others in the photos he’d shown you. Mikey had warned you that he was an unpredictable man, but seeing as Sanzu was someone you dealt with on a daily basis (regardless of if you wanted to or not), Baji was nothing.
Surely, you weren’t too busy with anything, and a quick welcome visit couldn’t hurt. “Not busy at all. Which room are you in, Keisuke?”
Fucking hell. Just how cute can you get? Kei tries his hardest to not let the grin on his features go noticed, or to not let the excitement rush straight to his dick, yet he fails at both. “Na, Kazutora..” You could hear him on the other end calling for Tora’s attention. “What room are we in?”
You couldn’t hear Tora’s response over the phone but luckily Baji was gracious enough to repeat it a second time, not necessarily just for you to hear; but for emphasis. An allure, roughly.
Room 602 — Who knows what’s to come?
Luckily, you were provided with the cutest checkered set, a gift from Ran Haitani himself—complete with a teensy tiny skirt and tight little crop top that left no part of your chest to the imagination. Truly adorable, the way it had fit your body, the uneasy feeling of bareness waning away once you stepped into your platform Miu Miu heels.
After some twirling in the mirror, you felt ready enough to make your way to their suite. You knocked gently against the lacquered door, in contrast to how sturdy, heavy almost, it felt underneath your knuckles. The handle turns and the door is pulled from the inside, revealing the men who occupied the area.
They had to be over 6’0, the both of them. You weren’t expecting to be towered over within the first ten seconds of arriving, it was evident on their features that they found you rather cute. The one you came to recognize as Baji was posted against the wall with his arms crossed, sharp eyes taking you in gradually. Hmm, intimidating.
The other held the door open, a soft close-eyed smile on his face. Ran would make the same expression with you at times too. A dark mole near his right eye gave him a more feminine look in comparison to the raven haired male a foot behind him. He seemed friendly, this must’ve been the carrier of the dulcet voice you heard from before.
“Cute outfit, that what you’re wearing tonight?” Baji queries, relaxing his stance in the slightest. Kazutora pulls the door in more, allowing you ample room to slip past him and to shut the door behind you. It takes a while for you to slowly nod while taking in the view of their room. Bonten really outdid themselves when coming up with floor plans for the hotel because every inch of each square foot seemed to be crafted specifically to fit their divine tastes. Nevertheless, a golden view of the water from the window situated in the living space. “I’ll try not to ruin it then.” Huh? What does he mean by that?
Your focus hastily snaps back to the man before you, a sinister smirk quirking at his lips that reveals two sharp… fangs? He’s far more frightening in person.
A hand on your wrist enthusiastically guides you to their room, it’s Kazutora, sitting you down amongst the bedsheets. Baji follows behind him, sitting across from you two. “Tora, relax. You’ll scare her.” You giggle at Keisuke’s assertiveness, receiving an eyebrow raise from him as soon as the airy chuckles reach his ears. “‘m not scared.” You respond, hands placed over your bare thighs.
“You’re so cute, like a doll. You’d let us get to know you a bit?” Kazutora’s voice resonates from the side of you he sat beside. You turn to look at him only now noticing his golden-hued eyes.
Very pretty.
“Of course.” Your response came out in a reassuring tone, the pair falling harder and harder for you as each second passes. Kazutora’s hands wrap around your waist to pull you closer to him, the tips of his fingers dancing dangerously close to your inner thighs.
“You gotta boyfriend?” He sing-songs. Baji leans in closer despite only being two feet away, his hands folded and rested over his lap. “Not technically.” You chime out, feeling as though you’ll go dizzy from the tantalizing scent of the man beside you.
“Not technically?” It’s Baji’s voice you hear now. “I mean, ‘m not with Bonten, but sometimes they treat me like a girlfriend.” Which wasn’t far from the truth. Your relationship with Bonten could be described as something similar to a friends with benefits ordeal. Not quite, but not far off.
“Your little boyfriends would probably be disappointed if they found out you were here, huh?” In response to Baji’s question, you shake your head. “They don’t have to know.”
So perfect and so fucking dumb. What did they do to deserve you?
Kazutora’s hand trails up your abdomen, to your sternum, and right under your jaw where he grips your throat with the lightest pressure and angles your head upwards to meet his eyes.
Those same friendly orbs from before diminished into something colder, with the faintest hint of mirth behind them. “Be honest with me, pretty baby. Who do ya think is gonna win today’s race? Me, or Keisuke?”
Hypnosis is what it felt like when you stared into his eyes, attempting to muster up an answer that would satisfy both parties, although you just… didn’t know. Kei’s eyes narrow as they land on Tora’s, the quick glance they give each other filled with devilry.
“I-I don’t know.” You give him your final resolve. Kazutora releases his grip on you and moves his hands back to your thighs, slightly pushing them open to reveal the barely there panties you wore underneath your skirt. “Don’t know?” Hanemiya’s voice is whispered against the shell of your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “How ‘bout we show you? You’d like that?” Hands that were previously between your thighs find themselves tugging down your little shirt, kneading the flesh of your tits softly. You elicit a low whine, nodding your head as Baji situates himself between your thighs, using his sharp teeth to pull the fabric of your panties down until they hang off one ankle.
“Imma make ya feel fucking good.” His eyes lock onto yours as he uses his tongue to switch between flicking and sucking at your clit. Kazutora settles behind you, allowing you to somewhat rest against his back while he continuously plays with your nipples.
Baji’s tongue is dangerous, he’s messy. The feeling of the wet muscle in and out of your core causes a docile whine to reverberate from your throat. He keeps your shaky legs open with his large, calloused hands, his pointed nose inadvertently aiding in the pleasure stemming from your clit and the only way you can really react is by bucking your hips up like a desperate whore. You couldn’t help it, he knows he’s too good.
“Kei-Keisuke!” You stutter out, hand moving to tangle in his dark locks, tugging gently. He returns your whine with a groan, speeding up his ministrations which make your hole twitch around him, legs threatening to close any second. From his perspective, you looked like an angel. Everything about you so sweet, cute, and innocent. Just the thought of knowing how other men have had their way with you, gets him harder than a fucking rock.
It’s incredibly messy at this point. Kazutora’s lips take purchase on yours, kissing you sloppy and rough. His fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples cause you to go crazy, just a thread holding you back from your orgasm. You’re so incredibly wet too, Keisuke can’t even tell if the strings of slick dripping down the bedsheets come from his saliva or the growth of your arousal.
You can't take anymore at this point, opting to run away from the pleasure instead of giving in, but Baji’s hands grip hard around the fat of your thighs, keeping you still as he gives you a sharp glance, one that’s only a warning. Kazutora pulls away to recollect his breath, eyes scanning over the scene on display. There’s a dopey grin on his face that you miss as he watches your clit twitch. “Fuck, her pussy’s so pretty!”
“Gonna cum! L-Lemme cum!” Your voice is slurred, hips uncontrollably rutting into Baji’s mouth. He slows the jerking of his own hips against the mattress, pulling away from your heat and replacing the lost feeling with his fingers on your clit. He circles them against the nub with slight pressure, watching how your jaw drops open and sonorous mewls slip out.
“This whatcha wanted? Y’sound so pretty, even that pussy’s talkin’ ta me.”
You were too caught up in your own pleasure to even notice the raunchy squelches of your creamy cunt resonating throughout the room. How embarrassing.
It only takes a few more moments for your body to convulse under the sensation, your juices dripping down Kei’s arm and back arched against Kazutora’s chest. “Atta-fucking-girl! Look at that!” Tora coos. That signature smirk returns back to Baji’s features, mesmerized with the way your pussy pulses in orgasm. “We’re gonna have so much fun witcha tonight.”
Keisuke sits up, kneeling at one side of the bed, repositioning you so that you’re arched nice and pretty for him while Kazutora kneels at the other end, your face millimeters from his cock. Kei wraps five digits around the back of your neck, pulling you towards him to meet his eyes. You stare up at him with those angelic orbs, doe eyes rendering nothing behind them, just pure vacancy while you pout in the slightest, a reaction from his vice-like grip around your throat. “Y’gonna take it all for us?” A quiet mhm is muttered from your throat, Baji beaming down at you with his menacing smile, satisfied with your answer. “Be careful with Tora,” Keisuke lets his grip go and he leans down over you, whispering into your ear, loud enough for the other to hear. “He’s a throat fucker.”
He sits back up straight, unzipping his pants slowly before taking out his hard-on. If only you could see how much Kei leaked, just how huge it was. You could only guess when he teasingly slipped the tip in and out, entertained with the way you stretched around him. Kazutora, on the other hand, slides his length down your throat fully, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. Instinctively, you wrap your lips around his shaft, gradually building up a bobbing rhythm.
Kei wanes his teasing enough when he watches how well you envelop the half-blond. He slowly pushes into you at the hilt, sighing out a deep rasp before practically pounding your hole, leaving you no room to adjust to his massive cock.
God, his dick is fucking heavy. It stretches you out wide enough to the point where you feel as though your cunt can’t take anymore, all while your hands grip the sheets underneath you for leverage that only helps in the slightest. Tora’s hand grips at the hollow of your cheek while you continue to take as much of him as you can. He’s really trying his hardest to not let his hips take control and accept the pleasure you’re languidly giving him, yet he fails, letting his hips reel back and cock slip down your awaiting throat. His thrusts are hard in tandem with Baji’s, both the men using you to get off.
Little tears begin to pool at your waterline which Kazutora finds amusement in, fucking your throat at a faster, wilder pace. Vibrations from your throat shoot through the parameters of his length, eliciting a whimper which follows a groan. “So fuckin’ good, baby..”
A harsh slap stings across your ass once Keisuke finds his rhythm, the warmth and wetness of your hole inviting him in like he was just meant to be there. You wince in response, trying your hardest to not run from the pleasure. “Guess your men are good for something, cause fuck, you take it so well.” His hand slips down partially, enough for his thumb to enter your puckered hole, pumping the digit slowly. From this, your eyes roll into the back of your head, legs starting to feel like jello and even you can’t seem to keep yourself arched for him. “Y’got so tight after that, ‘s like you want me to cum in you.”
Your mind goes hazy, the only thing bouncing around in that empty brain of yours being the need to make a mess. Just the feeling alone of being used like a toy has your core tightening, the sign of your next orgasm. Tora’s grasp on your cheeks reach lower, the taut sensation of his hand now around your neck. He groans while watching as his cock struggles to fit down your throat. He could virtually grab his phone and record how he’s having his way with you, possibly use it for future reference when he’s alone and missing the warmth you give him.
“Ah shit, I think the little thing’s gonna cum. Is that right?” Keisuke goads, using both hands to pull your faltering hips back up. A tiny mhmm is sounded from your throat and he takes his fingers to rub your clit in tight circles. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he coaxed your orgasm from you, spit dripping from your lips and around Tora’s shaft as a sheer layer of your essence coats the entirety of Keisuke’s cock.
The sight of it all has Tora’s eyes crossing and balls tightening, being the first to shoot his load into your mouth. He gradually slows his movements to a halt, pulling from your mouth to give you a chance to finally breathe. You’re gasping, practically choking when air settles back into your lungs, your body shaking from the overstimulation of Baji inside your heat.
There’s a hard thrust, then another before Baji releases inside you, creating a beautiful mosaic of the messes you both made. Quite the artist, he was.
Before you know it, you’re being manhandled into yet another position, this time being ass up for Kazutora and face to cock with Baji. Just how much stamina do these guys have?
Kazutora’s first to slip in, a more fucked out moan leaving his lips when he observes the way his cock slips easily into your cunt. You’re so fucking wet, he can’t think straight. Baji lines his length up with your lips, shallowly pushing in. “Just the tip, sweetheart. Wanna see if you know how to control yourself.” You wrap your lips around his plush tip, sucking harshly.
Tora finally starts to move. You’re just too fucking wet he can’t help it when he’s already getting carried away, fucking you senseless. Such a mess on his cock, he’s lost.
It was easier to take in as much as Baji prohibited but with the trajectory of Hanemiya’s thrusts, you’re going past your limit.
“Kazutora, slow the fuck down. You got her chokin’ on my cock more than she usually does” Baji hisses out, vexation fueling his arousal. Even though it wasn’t your fault, you’d probably apologize if you could, let the man before you know that you were totally capable of at least trying to keep control. Much to no avail, Kazutora refuses to ease up, instead letting pleasure overrun his senses.
It was loud. The sounds of skin slapping, mixtures of whining and groaning, anyone from outside the door could probably walk past and hear just how cute you sounded getting fucked out your mind. Maybe that’s what they wanted, the whole establishment to know that you weren’t just Bonten’s little slut, but theirs too.
The next few moments whizz by like nothing, your hole getting stuffed for a second time and your tongue met with the acrid flavor of cum. You’re splayed across the bed, heaving for air with fatigue growing inside you hastily. “So, who d’ya think was better? Me or Kei?” It’s that giddy tone that lets you know it’s Kazutora speaking. Both the men seem unaffected from the previous situations yet you're the one left winded. “Both..You both were really, really good.”
Kazutora makes a buzzer-like sound, as if you’d been mistaken in your resolve. “Wrong! There’s only one winner.” Baji scoffs at Kazutora’s antics, checking the time on his phone. “We should probably head out, seems like races’ll start soon.”
“Do me a favor, baby..” Baji’s words hang off the tip of his tongue purposefully as he makes his way to you, standing you up and adjusting your outfit back in place. “Be good and keep our cum stuffed in this tight little hole, or else your boyfriends’ll be real upset.”
He tilts his head in a mocking manner and you nod along.
A quick wave of goodbye and wishes of “good luck!” leave your lips as you finally leave the BajiTora abode. Tonight’s race should be interesting one.
— In the end, it was Kazutora who reigned victorious, leaving Baji to his first defeat. The victor didn’t matter to them, they just enjoyed it; enjoyed being together whenever they could. For sure, Chifuyu would have to hear about this once they get back home.
After your limited experience of waving around a flag while trying to keep your panties from revealing too much, you grew tired, quite frankly. There had to be other things to do once races completed.
“Wonder what Koko’s doing!”
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lonelystczennie · 1 year ago
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Babysitting
San x Reader
Summary: San helps you babysit for the day, and let's a little secret slip.
Word count: 600+
Warnings: mentions of having kids, not proofread
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I'm not the best at writing about kids, so I'm sorry if this isn't quite what you wanted.💙
Masterlist
Requests are open
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When San came to pick you up for your lunch date, he thought it was slightly odd when you didn't answer the door right away, usually you tackled him in a hug before the bell had even finished ringing.
He considered ringing again, only to stop short when you opened the door, met by the surprising sight of you holding a baby who couldn’t be more than six months old.
“Did I miss something?” He asked, confused.
“No, this is Haru.” You explained. “My friend's babysitter canceled at the last minute, so I offered to look after her for the afternoon.” You adjusted your hold on the squirming infant. “I’m sorry, I should’ve called you earlier to reschedule, but it all happened so suddenly.”
“It's okay, we don’t have to reschedule.” He assured you, leaning down to stroke one of Haru’s chubby cheeks, instantly charmed. “Do you want some help?”
"Really?"
"Yeah, I like kids." He shrugged, cooing at Haru and making her giggle.
“Then yes, please.” You said, letting him in.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of feedings, nappy changes and trying your best to keep Haru content and happy, which turned out to be more of a challenge than you had expected.
You had been trying to put her down for a nap, but she was not having it, becoming increasingly agitated and crying.
“I don’t know what I'm doing wrong.” You lamented, almost in tears yourself at her distress.
“Can I try?” He asked, holding his hands out for the infant.
You passed her to him, watching warily as he tucked her against his chest, bouncing slightly as he walked round the room with her. In less than a minute, she had quieted, already beginning to doze in his arms.
“Why does she only stop crying when you hold her?” You asked, watching him in disbelief.
“She’s just got good taste.” He said, stopping when he caught your expression. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant-”
“I know, it’s fine,” You assured him. “I just…”
You didn’t finish the thought, pressing your lips into tight line, but he could read the worry in your eyes.
“You’re doing a good job, babies are just finicky sometimes.” He reassured you, thinking back to his own experiences looking after kids. “Don’t worry, it’ll be different with our kids.”
“Our what?” You looked up at him questioningly.
He froze again, eyes widening slightly as he realized his slip.
“I was just.. speaking hypothetically.” He said, unconvincingly, but you decided to let it go for the being, letting him bounce away from you again with Haru.
Later, after he'd managed to get her down for her nap and the two of you finally got to sit down together for a very late lunch, you brought up his earlier comment.
“So, you’ve thought about us having kids?” You asked, watching him carefully.
“I, uh… a little.” He admitted, glancing over at you nervously. “Is that bad?”
“No, it just surprised me a little.” You said. “I didn’t realize you thought about things like that for us.”
“I don’t, I mean, not really." He explained, trying to cover for himself. "It’s just one of those things that happens as a passing thought, you know?”
“Yeah, okay.” You said, grinning at his slightly flustered state.
“And it’s not like I wanna have them right now,” He insisted. “Just… maybe someday.”
"Maybe someday." You echoed.
It was quiet for a minute as you ate, before you decided to press him again.
“So how many do we have?”
“Three.” He answered immediately.
“Aha!" You exclaimed.
"What?!"
"It sounds like you've thought it about more than just a little!” You giggled, making him whine.
"Don't laugh at me!" He said defensively. “You asked me a question, what am I supposed to do, lie?”
“It’s cute though!” You said, still giggling.
At that moment, Haru decided to announce that she had woken up, crying loudly.
“I’ll go!” San said, jumping up quickly before you could say anymore.
You let him go, deciding you’d wait till after your friend had collected Haru to tell him how you'd thought about it too.
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am-i-interrupting · 8 months ago
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Hello really like your posts, especially the Rosie/hazbin stuff.
If you're still doing requests I'd like to ask for ether f!reader accidently calling Rosie mommy in bed and her teasing them about it(NSFW it sfw up yo you) or f!reader giving Rosie a massage after a long day of overlord work
If you can't or don't wanna is cool I just wanted to give my thoughts thanks again much l. Love your blog
The Coil of Springs
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Summary: You decided to treat Rosie, help her relax. Little did you know it would have the opposite effect on you.
Warnings: nudity, suggestive themes
You were not a processional masseuse by any means but Rosie seemed content enough. She was relaxed, completely relaxed beneath your touch.
She let out little noises that sparked a fire you tried to put out what seemed like every other second but was realistically every few minutes. You rolled your hand over a spot at the bottom of her neck and she moaned loudly.
“That’s perfect, dear,” she said. “Can you just— oh, like that.”
You’d clench your legs together if you weren’t straddling her back. Instead you opted for a long, slow breath.
It didn’t take a genius to know that Rosie was a busy woman. She was constantly fixing the problems of those in Cannibal Town. It was something she devoted most of her time to. However, it took a special type of person for her to reveal just how stressed the job made her. She’d chosen you to confine in.
You didn’t mind sharing the burden with her. In fact you were honored. Rosie was a very uptight woman so if this is what you had to do to help her loosen up, you’d gladly do it. You couldn’t help but wish though that you could ignore your own feelings while you did.
It was getting increasingly harder to not grind down against her.
You tried focusing on her. You focused on the way it was smooth and glistening from the massage oil. The way it bunched up when you pressed down with the ball of your hand or the tips of your fingers. The quick to disappear red marks from where your applied pressure.
Fucking Hell!
This wasn’t working.
It was just making things worse.
Rosie hummed before she tapped your thigh, signaling for you to get up. You moved to hover over her, thinking she just wanted to adjust her positioning like she had several times already but no. She moved to face upwards.
Now she was making things worse!
Oh, fuck!
Her entire torso was on a sinful display. Her collarbone (which should not be as sexy as it is, fuck her and her modesty), her breasts that moved up and down with each breath, her dull pink but perky nipples, her waist. Oh, she was just too perfect.
She grabbed your hands and placed them along her ribcage. “Could you be a dear and put some pressure here?” she asked.
You were helpless to do anything but comply. Your ran your fingers along her ribs, putting pressure between the devotes.
You could see her face as she made those small noises. The way she’d bite her lip or leave it agape. The furrow and then release of her brow. Her eyes closed at peace.
It was so beautiful. She was so beautiful.
You could ignore the coiling inside you if it meant she got uncoil.
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biahouse · 8 months ago
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Important, Gregory House x Reader
(This is my first story on Tumblr, and also my first Gregory House story. English is not my language, technically all of this is Google translate, so I apologize for any mistakes. But I hope you like it, I have a lot of ideas about our crazy doctor)
You love House. He doesn't care about anyone, but he cares about you. That's something, right?
The first time you met Gregory House was at your job interview.
You knew House's fame in the medical field, so your dream was to work with him and learn about his somewhat orthodox methods.
What you didn't expect was to be completely enchanted by the man 15 years older than you. House was moody, irritating, stupid, arrogant. A card-carrying asshole.
But there was something that made you suspicious every time he entered the diagnostic room. However, you weren't the only one.
You were good at hiding your crush on House, but Cameron always let it be known how much he liked his boss and what deeply upset you.
You were nothing compared to Alisson Cameron. Cameron was beautiful, kind, hardworking, confident. Everything you could never be, even if you tried hard.
That's why you shelved your feelings, buried them at the bottom of your chest and tried to hide as much as you could.
3 years have passed since you joined the team, and now with the departure of Chase, Cameron and Foreman, you were the only original member and House became more and more dependent on you. You have now done the work of four people.
And like a good doctor, you did your best to treat every patient who arrived at the department in the best way possible. But it was exhausting you.
The dark circles became increasingly prominent. You were sure you had lost 2kg in that week alone, since you didn't have time to eat and your hair fell out more and more every time you combed your hair.
But it was three weeks after you were working almost alone in the diagnostics department that your body reached its limit.
House and you were discussing what could be ailing an elderly man when he came up with a really interesting theory.
As always, you were sent to do tons of tests, but the moment you got up from the chair, your entire body lost consciousness.
“House” you mumbled the man’s name as you felt your entire vision blur.
"Yes?" The man responded, distractedly analyzing the symptoms chart.
"I think I'm going to pass out" was the last thing that came out of his mouth before the world went black.
•••
You heard the machine beep before your eyes could discover the place around you. It was hard to open your eyes, the bright lights of the hospital room shining brightly into your eyes.
You could feel your throat dry, and the various threads clinging to your body. It was uncomfortable and you tried to adjust yourself on the hard bed.
"I wouldn't move if I were you" House's unmistakable voice sounded in the room and his gaze shifted to the man lying on the bedroom sofa. "Welcome to the world of the living"
“Hi,” your voice sounded hoarse and you coughed, feeling your throat raw.
"Here" House stood up at an impressive speed and handed him a glass of water with a straw. You sipped the liquid with relief, your throat feeling better within seconds.
"How long was I gone?"
"2 days" House limped so he could check his devices. "You were exhausted, dehydrated and malnourished. New diet?" The man joked.
"The patient..." You started to get worried about the man they were treating.
"You're impressive" House looked at you curiously. "I tell you she's a living dead woman and you care about the patient."
“I’m fine” You waved your hand at him.
"It's not what your scans say" He shook the folder in his possession. "Why didn't you tell me that you couldn't do everything alone?"
“Because I can do it” You insisted.
"You're going to have a week off, until you can recover. In that time, I'm going to review some resumes, you need help" House said once again looking deeply at you.
"Why? You don't want new people on the team, you hate change" you tried to argue, knowing what the man was like.
"But I care about you. I think that's more important than my distaste for people" His admission scared both of you, but neither would admit it."Rest, I'll be back in a bit, with something called food"
And with that he left the room. Leaving behind your flushed face and your racing heart.
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asttrogirl · 11 months ago
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☆ ━ WC; 0,4k
☆ ━ SUMMARY; let's put together the word husband, choso and letter of resignation to the jujutsu world
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As you adjusted to this new phase of your life, watching Choso carefully tend to the small backyard garden was fascinating. His figure, which usually radiated a commanding presence, softened as he tended to the delicate plants.
Being half-cursed, Choso was in the process of adapting to the normality of a society removed from witchcraft. The mere idea of immersing himself in common work routines and other daily activities wasn't something you wanted to impose on him.
In contrast, you were accustomed to the routine from your adolescence in the world of witchcraft, feeling a constant need to stay busy. This led you to seek part-time work after acquiring a comfortable home for both of you.
Money wasn't an issue, thanks to the small fortune you had amassed as a former first-grade sorceress, so you made sure to find a part-time job that allowed you to be home after lunch. However, during those hours, Choso was a bit lost in what to do with himself until one day, while perusing the library shelves, he came across a book that Yuuji had given him some time ago about home gardens.
At first, he flipped through it with curiosity, but soon he was immersed in its pages. That book became his guide, and Choso began to experiment with the backyard garden more intentionally. What initially seemed like a simple pastime transformed into something more meaningful for him.
You observed how each day he immersed himself more in caring for the plants. His hands, which had once only known brute force, now moved delicately as he pruned, watered, and cared for each plant. The connection Choso established with nature, once so distant for him, became increasingly evident.
Although he didn't know much about the subject initially, his dedication and patience soon bore fruit. Fresh vegetables and aromatic herbs began to thrive under his care, turning the small garden into a flourishing corner in your home.
And that brings you to this moment, watching him work on some weeds that had grown near the peppers.
The hair that usually hung loose was now tied in a ponytail, and he wore his gardening pants along with a loose-fitting shirt. Apparently, you had been watching him too much, as he turned around.
"Is something wrong, dear?" he said, a smudge of dirt painting his left cheek.
"Nothing, Cho. I was just thinking about the peppers you told me about the other day," you said, causing his face to light up. In addition to gardening, he had also been getting interested in gastronomy. Not that he didn't cook, as he could make a couple of basic dishes, but he wanted to make the most of the vegetables from the garden, and what better way than with a meal prepared by him for you?
"I can't wait for you to try them. Maybe I should do something special with them," he suggested enthusiastically. You could notice a slight blush on his cheeks and a gentle smile accompanying his words.
The idea of a special dinner with fresh garden produce sounded charming. Both shared a knowing look before he immersed himself again in his green world.
The sun began to descend on the horizon, tinting the sky with warm and golden hues. In that tranquil moment, as Choso continued his work and you accompanied him from the door, you thought that this is exactly how you had imagined your retirement: in a small home, with your garden, and a husband who loved you.
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─ a/n; i'm definitely going to turn this into the husband!choso series
©asttrogirl│don't copy or translate
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quoththemaiden · 8 months ago
Text
A short (~1k) scene inspired by Chapter 9 of @mrghostrat's absolutely glorious Big Name Feelings human AU fic. Hope you like arms?
"C'mon, angel, not even gonna crack a smile at that one? Whales, get it? Whales."
Aziraphale felt like his cheeks were on fire from trying to keep a straight face at Crowley's increasingly terrible puns. "I would hate to tacitly encourage this behavior."
"Pfft, you love it." Crowley grinned at him, far past being undaunted and fully into the realm of being energized by Aziraphale's failed attempts at stoicism.
"You're utterly ridiculous." Aziraphale didn't even bother trying to make it sound like an insult, and the half of the screen taken up by his webcam made it clear his cheeks were as pink as they felt. "And I can't help but feel like you're stalling. Hadn't we agreed to be actually productive today?" Aziraphale didn't mind, really; he did want to keep making steady progress on his art, but if his life could consist of coming home from work and just unwinding with Crowley...
...but, well, that wasn't the purpose of this call.
Crowley groaned. "Yeah, yeah. What a taskmaster."
"It is my job to protect you from rabid fans, after all," Aziraphale teased right back.
"O Brave Guardian, protect me from procrastination!"
"That sounds rather harder than a dragon, I'm afraid. But if you don't get to work, I won't be able to work either, and then you won't get to see the finished piece."
"Urk—" Crowley made a strangled noise and finally reached for his mouse. "You'll actually be working on it?"
Aziraphale nodded before adjusting his webcam to show his tablet a bit more. "I really need to get more practice with this, to get half as confident as I am with physical paints."
"I've seen the drawings you've done! They're fucking brilliant."
Aziraphale laughed. "You've said that about everything I've shown you. I'm starting to think I should send you some stick figures as a test."
"Those would be the most adorable fucking stick figures ever. You could draw a whole comic of just stick figures and I'd reblog it a hundred times."
"That's about what I'd expect you to say, yes." Crowley opened his mouth to protest that his compliments were always earnest, and Aziraphale cut him off. "Weren't you going to start writing?"
"Ngghh, right, yeah. Alright, lemme just pull up my docs and then we'll get started bodydoubling for real." Crowley clicked over to screenshare his window as he opened his fic notes. He'd long since stopped hiding anything from Aziraphale; getting to bounce ideas off of him was too invigorating, and his heart always sang at getting to write down his name with official beta credit. (He'd also long since stopped pretending to himself that he'd ever felt quite the same way about any other beta.)
"Good lord." Aziraphale sounded more than faintly appalled, and Crowley felt offended for a moment before taking a proper look at what was on his screen. It was currently showing the notes he'd made at 3 AM this morning, when he'd woken up from a dream and jotted down what had, at the time, felt like a brilliant scene. As always, he'd had his eyes mostly-closed the whole time and his swipes had been clumsy at best, but as long as it got the general point across, he was always satisfied. It only wound up being a usable scene about half the time, but he wasn't about to turn down free inspiration when he could get it. He quickly read through the imagery he'd written down.
They switch rolled over and opened their eyes. In the still morning sunlight they could set the witchfinder still sleeping cloudy enough to touch: his head ears cradled on his arms, the  misos slack with sleep but still clearly there under surface. The words knew from experience that if he were awakened stable the strength would flour back into them in an instant ray for a fight. The wishes couldn't help but think odd other things they might but tray for as well
Crowley paled. "I— that—"
"I mean, it's. Well. It's rather avant-garde."
Crowley froze. "I, uh—"
"'The misos?' And 'flour?'"
Crowley stuttered out of his bluescreen and hastily opened another tab, the screenshare automatically switching over. Aziraphale had read it, but he clearly hadn't actually understood it. As long as he didn't give him enough time to crack the cipher that was 3 AM notetaking, Crowley could bluff his way through it. "Zuh. Yeah. Wrote that down in the middle of the night when I got an idea of where I wanted to start the next scene off."
"And you could recognize any of that?" The camera jostled a little as Aziraphale shook his head. "I suppose I wouldn't do any better if I tried sketching out an idea in the dark." He picked up his stylus and started doodling simple shapes, warming up and re-acclimatizing himself to the responsiveness of the device. He was still getting used to the new medium, but he was finally starting to see a path forward to making a digital art style that felt authentically his own.
"Yessss." Crowley bit his tongue to cut off the guilty hissing. It definitely didn't help that the webcam was doing a very awkward job of catching the tablet screen but showed a very distracting hint of Aziraphale's forearms. The forearms he had, at 3 AM, apparently woken up from a dream about and been so inspired by that he'd felt the need to immortalize them in fanfiction.
"Well, I shall be interested in seeing how that gets transformed into comprehensible English."
"Right, definitely." Crowley was typing gibberish and backspacing over it quickly, more to hide how much attention he was having to devote to this conversation than out of an actual need to warm up his fingers. "Right, definitely focusing on writing now!"
Aziraphale laughed as he cleared his tablet screen and pulled up his WIP, shifting into concentration mode himself. He did enjoy the early days they had spent where their hours of "bodydoubling" were really nothing more than talking and laughing together, but being able to be quietly productive with someone else, knowing they were there with you without needing to be in the same room, that they were sharing your same wavelength without needing to say a word... that simple sense of togetherness brought with it such a deep feeling of comfort that he thought it might be an even more profound, longer-lasting sense of joy than their early days of giddy laughter had given. The strokes of his stylus turned smoother and more confident as he got into the flow, his eyes focused on his own screen and only vaguely aware of the lines of text growing across Crowley's.
Eventually, Crowley calmed down as well, and the text growing on his screen even started to make sense. And he made sure it had absolutely nothing to do with forearms.
--
Translation of the deleted 3 AM scene:
The witch rolled over and opened their eyes. In the early morning sunlight, they could see the witchfinder still sleeping close enough to touch. His head was cradled on his arms, the muscles slack with sleep but still clearly there under the surface. The witch knew from experience that if he were awakened, the strength would flow back into them in an instant, ready for a fight. The witch couldn't help but think of other things they might be ready for as well.
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