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isuckatwritingsobenice · 10 months ago

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Infernal Shadows 02

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.

Song for this chapter: HAUSER - Adagio (Albinoni)

A/N: I’m so glad part one did well! I really liked this idea and hoped other people would too. As always comment if you want to be tagged and I will tag you in the next post! I wanted this to be three parts, but depending on how much I can fit in this chapter and the next one, I’ll see if I need to make four parts. The song at the beginning of this chapter is meant to be played when the line “ The music picked up” Is read. Skip to 5:35 for it to play smoothly, or as smoothly as possible.

Word count: 3.k or something over that idk I got too lazy to count :(

Taglist: @dollops-of-delusion @nebusokuxp @scrunchss @rosedasy @valluvz @chesstras @pishybowl @iaaeav @forgotten-blues @22carolina08 @roboticsuccubus83 @doflamingadonquixote

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part One. // Part three.

Within, the grand foyer unveiled itself, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail in stark contrast against a black and white color scheme. Crystal chandeliers, dangling from lofty black ceilings, cast their brilliance upon white walls adorned with ornate mirrors. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich black and white fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, establishing cozy settings for guests to assemble and engage in enriching conversations. Each room murmured tales of a past era – intricately patterned black and white wallpaper, frames gilded in black to showcase classical art, and a subtle aroma of aged wood and lavender lingering in the air, harmonizing with the monochromatic elegance. The guests walking in all marveled at the details of the mansion.

Charlotte and Vagatha both stepped in, Charlotte in awe of the detailing. A shadow figure bent down slightly to offer her a drink, to which she happily took.

“Vaggie this is all so beautiful. I hope I can make a good impression.” Charlotte said, turning to her partner to ease her nerves. Vagatha just smiled, a hand on her shoulder lovingly.

“You’re gonna do great babe, besides, there’s so many people here, if one likes it I’m sure other people will get on board too.” Vagatha said.

“Or they can laugh at you if one person points out how ridiculous it is.” Husk said, chugging his drink before placing it back on the servers tray.

“Thanks for the kind words Husk.” Vagatha said sarcastically. He just shrugged, looking towards the bar area which was practically calling him over.

Upstairs in your room, you stared at yourself in the mirror as your shadows made the finishing touches on your outfit. Draped in a long, elegant black gown that gracefully embraced your commanding figure, the fabric cascaded like shadows. Delicate chain motifs intertwine with the dress, creating an alluring dance of darkness. A chain belt cinches your waist, a subtle nod to your captivating ability to ensnare and command over your shadows. Completing the regalia, silver chain cuffs adorn your wrists, reflecting both power and refinement.

“Madame, the guests are all in the lobby awaiting your arrival.” One of the shadows said. You nodded, stepping down from your showcase, winking to yourself in the mirror before chuckling to yourself. A shadow approaches you, bowing in respect before holding out a tray with your drink, a contrast to your dark colors. You take the glass in your hand, another shadow lightly putting a thermometer in your drink so it’s the perfect temperature for you, fifteen point five degrees Celsius. The liquid is a light yellow-ish green, Lafite-Rothschild, an expensive French wine you tried in 1906 when you were alive. Lifting it to your lips, you take a long sip and sigh, the spicy and earth notes, mixed with a hint of tobacco and red Barrie’s dance on your tongue like a performance of Gavotte. You pull back with a sigh, setting the glass down, a perfect Ridel Vinum Bordeaux, personally crafted for you as the bottom of the glass is a Smokey black, fading into clear glass towards the top.

“Let’s get this Gala started shall we~?”

In the lobby, guests were socializing amongst themselves. Velvet, Vox and Valentino had split for a short while. After the incident outside, the two overlords wouldn’t stop tantalizing the picture box about his fit of frustration dealing with the Radio Demon. From the lobby, there were large crystal doors revealing the back exterior of the house. The greenery was just perfect, with cobblestone flooring revealing another bloody fountain. Vox stood with his drink, speaking to some sinner he couldn’t remember the name of, about how well his business was going.

“You ever get,” Vox asked, eyeing one of the shadows who stood in a corner, white eyes soulless as they held out drinks to guests. “Creeped out by those, things?” Vox asked, turning back to the sinner. He just scoffed.

“Please, they’re always around and as far as I know, harmless.” The sinner said. At that, a shadow appeared between the two, taking their empty glasses and replacing it with new, full ones. Vox tried his hardest not to seem alarmed at this, and took the glass silently, sipping his drink slowly as it floated away. It was then he took in the shadows appearance. They all looked the same. Tall figures, Smokey outlines, but no feel or hands, just a faded end to their limbs. Their eyes were white and soulless, almost as it they were vacant, a shell of what they used to be. There were no facial features, just two white circles and a thin white line for their mouth. Each one however, had a light Smokey chain around their chest, wrapped in the shape of an X.

“What are the chains for then? They’re pretty much smoke, what do they need chains forever?” Vox asked. The associate laughed, but before he could answer, another overlord stepped in.

“They have chains because they’re claimed souls.” Fredrick Von Eldritch says, his sister Bethesda in toe. The two grin, a shadow following behind them with a tray of their drinks. “If you get invited to the gala long enough, you get a personal one.” He said with a wink, gesturing to the shadow behind the two.

“They’re quite cute once you get used to them.” Bethesda said with a smile, cooing at the shadow lightly. Yet, it still remained expressionless.

“Actually, now that you say that.” The sinner says, looking around for a moment. “It’s been awfully quiet with a laugh track being played.” He says, referring to Alastor. Vox just rolls his eyes.

“Who gives a shit about where that old timey freak is?” Vox asks. Fredrick and Bethesda snicker to each other, catching Vox’s attention.

“Probably hunting for his dear Madame.” Bethesda said dramatically, laying her head on her brothers shoulder and batting her lashes playfully. Fredrick and the sinner laughed at his sisters antics, but Vox grew serious.

“What does that mean? He knows her?” Vox asked, to which Fredrick scoffed, finishing his drink before reaching for another off the shadows server tray.

“Of course he does. She died before him, and they’re the closest overlords in time period. Well, aside from Zestial and her.” Fredrick explained. Vox didn’t say anything else, instead looking to the red ‘moon’ of hell, before glancing at the blood fountain. He had heard rumors about being at the Madame’s table, and how she gave the inside to all her projects and plans before the next extermination. Apparently, this year was supposed to be ‘different’ as people had been talking.

“When does this dinner start anyway? We’ve been standing out here for two hours.” Vox said annoyed.

“In a few minutes, Madame will make her grand entrance. She will socialize with the guests as it is polite to have one on one time with them. Then she will spend the rest of the time while the orchestra gets together deciding on contenders to sit at her table.” A shadow walking by said, stopping to stare at Vox. “Madame is always watching.” It then said, turning to serve other guests. Vox said nothing, instead turning on his heel and making his way inside the mansion. How could someone feel suffocated outside? Fredrick and Bethesda said nothing, watching him go, but sharing a glance between each other before making their leave too, leaving the sinner all by his lonesome.

Inside, Charlotte and Vagatha conversed about how she could get people behind her project.

“Maybe if I sing-“

“Please no. These people are too…” Vagatha said, glancing around the room. Everyone seemed too, fake. Vagatha knew Charlotte being herself around these people would do absolutely no good to the hotel, and though she hated telling Charlotte these things, she knew her kindness would be frowned upon, and made fun of. “Serious for that kind of thing.” Vagatha finished, taking a sip of her champagne. She settled for champagne in a flute while Charlotte drank water, wanting to hydrate herself in hopes to calm her nerves.

“I heard that Madame might be making her entrance soon.” Charlotte said nervously, looking around. She half expected her parents to show up, but knew how they rarely liked getting involved in overlord affairs. She’d be surprised if they showed up.

“Then when she does you can try to pitch your idea to her.” Vagatha said supportively. Charlotte just smiled and nodded, hoping someone would listen to her. She had tried practicing on two sinners moments ago, to which they both laughed and called her delusional. The defeat was beginning to get to her, and she hadn’t even started yet.

With Velvet, she began studying the interior of the old-styled mansion. She was trying her hardest to not be too rude about it, but of course she had her comments, but ultimately kept them to herself. Cramoisie, your fashion line, was the top fashion brand in hell, everyone wanted a piece of it. Velvet had never had an article for herself, despite trying her hardest to get something, anything, even a sample. But people feigned for it like drugs. Velvets line was successful sure, but with your validation and guidance, she could become perfection, the same way you were. Everyone in hell looked up to you, shit, you had even gotten Lilith’s praise as she was photographed wearing a custom piece you designed for her. Your work was art in its purist form, and Velvet kept a close eye on her other colleagues to make sure they didn’t fuck your chance up. Velvet had her assistant hold samples and sketches of designs Velvet had been working on, wanting to show you her best work in hopes of winning you over. She could brag about having you support her line, and her fans would die of excitement. Maybe, she could get you to design her a custom piece, or Velvet could design one for you. The possibilities were limitless, if you agreed to meet with her of course. But that was all the more reason why she needed to make sure she had a seat at your table tonight. She needed to get close to you.

“Are you fucking high?” Velvet whispered to Valentino, who just chuckled softly at her.

“What’s the matter hermosa? Just enjoy the Gala, we’re here to have fun right?” He asked with a giggle. Velvet huffed, deciding to find Vox, hoping he could straighten Valentino out. Valentino would not fuck up her chance tonight.

Near the large staircase in the middle of the room, Alastor stood, glass of whiskey in his clawed hands. He smiles, humming to himself while quietly back up into a wall, careful to scan the room quickly before he disappears into the shadows. Then, moments later, appears in a room separate from the gala. It’s a study, your study. Alastor takes a step forward and quickly the shadows in the room seemed to deepen, casting larger, more dramatic silhouettes that seemed to dance on the walls. The interplay of darkness and light only heightened the mysterious allure of the study. In the midst of this chiaroscuro ambiance, Alastor found himself surrounded by an atmosphere that mirrored the complex nature of the figure depicted in the portrait hanging above the fireplace, which was in the far back wall of the study. It was the only light source in the room. Black wooden shelves lined against the tall walls, showcasing famous pieces of literature, all hand picked and to your liking. The fire place, crafted with dark marble, commanded his attention. Above the mantel, a striking portrait of Madame hung, capturing his focus, like a trance. The image portrayed a being universally admired, yet equally feared; someone who elicited both admiration and intimidation all at once, you.

“Hm, hiding now are we?” Alastor asks with a grin, tutting lightly. “That’s not very proper of you Madame~” He says, calling out to you. Seconds later, a dark shadow appears in the corner of the room, taking up the entire corner, before a shadowy figure steps out. Similar to the servant’s out in the lobby, Alastor’s eye twitch’s slightly.

“Oh don’t be so pissy. You know no one gets to see me before my entrance.” You say, the shadow expressionless, but Alastor can hear your tone through the figure, taunting him. He sighs, setting his staff on a slant along his foot.

“And here I thought I could connect with an old friend.” Alastor said with a chuckle, staring down the shadowy figure, hoping his gaze would ease you to show yourself to him. But alas, stuck in your ways, you didn’t show yourself, instead laughing, though the figure did not open its mouth, making your ‘shadow a-presence’ all the more eerie.

“If you really want to speak with me it can wait until my entrance. I should be done soon.” You say, before Alastor just smiles, tossing his staff from hand to hand.

“Well if you’re really going to make me wait, mind you speed the process up a bit? You know it doesn’t take much to make you look breath-taking.” Alastor compliments, but earns a scoff from you.

“Oh please, don’t start with me ‘Radio Demon.’” You mock, before the shadow figure begins to step back.

“Wait, a moment before you go.” Alastor says, standing his staff on the floor. The shadow figure stops, before you speak again.

“Make it quick. You know how much energy it takes to keep this up.” You say.

“So, about this hotel business. I know she’s planning to talk to you about it.”

“Yes the idea you tell me so much about.” You say sarcastically. Alastor had told you bits and pieces about the princess’s project, but didn’t tell you what it was for exactly, leaving you to wonder how important it really was if even he wouldn’t speak on it.

“Well you know how much I crave entertainment. Is it possible to make a request for the seating arraignment tonight?” Alastor asks. You laugh, figure still unmoving.

“Humorous to think you even have a seat. You’ve been gone for what? Seven years?” You say with a scoff.

“You’ve been gone decades my dear, you didn’t even show up to your last twenty gala’s, having your pity shadows do it for you. I doubt you should be speaking on the matter.”

At that, you chuckle to yourself before the shadow begins to back into the corner, black smoke enveloping the corner like a cloud. “I presume you would be correct. Well, I’m off now. Don’t sneak into my quarters again.” You say finally before disappearing. Alastor just grins, stepping into his own shadow, joining the other guests.

The shadows had slowly but, eventually ushered the guests into the lobby, everyone gathering around the staircase as the shadows lined up against the railings, the orchestra playing the music you had specifically requested. You were about to make your grand entrance, something you hadn’t done in centuries. Everyone stood around, awaiting your arrival, the shadows momentarily disappearing to give the guests more space to crowd around. Candles lit along the walls, as well as floating lights appearing going up the staircase. There, the shadows took their place, two on each step on opposite sides, facing each other. The music picked up, the lights focusing at the top of the stairs. Black smoke began to roll down the steps slowly, the anticipation for your arrival growing. The music gets calm for a moment, a larger shadow figure standing at the top of the staircase. It’s larger than any of the other shadows in the room, standing at fifteen feet tall. It speaks in a monotone voice, but loud and commanding.

“Thank you all for your attendance tonight. The Crimson Gala is held once every year to start the new year with all those who survived the extermination. This being said, Madame would like to say her personal congratulations for not being apart of the bloodshed this year. While the past years she has used me to say that she will unfortunately not be in attendance, I am pleased to say that tonight, along with all the new guests, she will make her grand entrance. Presenting to you, the prowess of darkness and queen of shadows, Madame.”

The lights shine bright, and the shadow vanishes quickly. Velvet shushes Vox and Valentino, eyes practically bulging out of her skull to see you. Alastor just stares, waiting in anticipation. Charlie claps her hands quietly to herself while Vaggie just smiles. Rosie sips her glass, eyes waiting to see what outfit you’ve put together this time. At the top of the staircase, a large black smokey circle opens at the bottom of the floor, smoke swirling upwards slowly in a tornado form, smoke getting quicker as it swirls around itself. It gets larger, and guests closer to the stairs have to back up a bit as the wind picks up. Carmilla turns her face to the side, not wanting the wind to mess up her hair too much. Finally, the music picks up again, the peak point in the song, which lasts eight seconds, before the smoke falls to the side in one swoop, leaving you in the midst, now on display for all guests to see. The music continues, the chains against your dress glistening under the light. The music continues the play as you take steps down, looking at the guests. There’s a serious expression on your face, but somehow neutral all the same. Your shadows had added last minute black lace gloves, which went up to your forearm. The bottom of your dress had a lace trimming, as well as the bodice being laced with trim along the bust area. The jewelry was a simple black diamond crystal on a metal chain around your neck, paired with black diamond earrings. The cuff links on your hand remained all the same though. Finally reaching the end of the steps, everyone clapped, now finally being graced with your presence.

Velvet was in awe, staring at you with wide eyes like a child being gifted the most precious thing. Her excitement grew enormously, watching you shake hands and socialize with guests. She had never seen you before, after you had gone ghost for centuries, hardly anyone had photos of you. Hell she didn’t even know what you sounded like.

Charlie was so excited to meet you. She hadn’t seen you in, forever, and was now finally excited to be seen as your equal. Well, that was what she had hoped at least. Having seen a portrait of you in her parents' home when she was younger, she learned of the close relationship between Lilith and you. The anticipation had built over the years, and now, finally, she looked forward to being seen as your equal. Her hope was to hopefully get your support for the hotel, aiming to elevate her standing in the eyes of others. With your backing, she believed people would take both her and the redemption project more seriously, fostering a genuine desire for redemption. Maybe it would even work.

Husk smiled as he watched you socialize with guests. He was glad to finally see you back out again. He never knew why you went into hiding of course, but he never had the balls to ask, so he just stood quiet. When you disappeared, it was after a particularly rough extermination, and he knew something had happened, he just didn’t know what. Since then, the world only had glimpses of you to go on. Some sinners were starting to think you were a myth, since you never showed your face at the Crimson Gala, especially since you were the host.

Vox was taken aback, a sense of confusion and unease settling within him. Your presence had caught him off guard; he had anticipated something different, perhaps an older figure. The unexpected impact left him feeling uneasy, realizing the gravity of your influence. It dawned on him why Velvet had stressed the importance of making a favorable impression. Apart from Zestial and the twins, you stood as one of the strongest and most enduring overlords. In Vox's mind, securing your alliance was imperative for the success of his company. Your potential support would make his endeavors foolproof. Everything had to be flawless – not for any personal reasons, of course, but solely for the sake of his company. He needed you.

Making your rounds to guests, you began to get closer to your colleagues. With a wave to Stolas, and a nod to Zeezie, you run into the Radio Demon himself, Alastor. He grins, sharp teeth getting you. He smiles and nods his head, and you nod back. Alastor takes in your stoic expression, before carefully taking in your outfit.

“My, my, Madame, you’ve truly outdone yourself tonight. Your choice in attire is as captivating as ever – a perfect blend of elegance and sensibility. Quite the spectacle for the grand event, don’t you think?” He asked, holding his arm out to you. You take it, and the two of you walk around the lobby together, conversing.

“Well you don’t look to bad for yourself. Maybe going into hibernation was perfect for you.” You say back, and he grins.

“You’re too kind darling.” He says, dead heart quickening. He puts a hand to his chest, mocking fragility. “Your words leave me breathless my dear.” He says with false dramatics. You roll your eyes and smack his arm playfully.

“Oh please, your ego is quite large enough already, yes?” You ask. He doesn’t say much else, but instead, gently moves you to the side while you look at your shadows, now waltzing around in the middle of the lobby, putting on a performance.

“Did you plan that?” Alastor asks. You shake your head.

“No, but the music is perfect for it, so I let them be. They’re already trapped with me, I might as well make them useful.” You say, and Alastor just hums, a laugh track playing. However, as the two of you walk, his track screeches to a halt upon seeing Vox approach the two of you.

“Madame.�� Vox says, nodding his head. His expression is serious, and though you’ve heard of him, you’ve never seen him.

“Ah hello. Vox I presume?” You ask, free hand reaching forward to shake his own outstretched hand. The two of you shake hands, and Alastor can’t ignore the way he fights to keep his smile. Why he could just shove his staff right into that flace faced fuckers scree-

“Alastor, I suppose you’ve met Mr.Vox before, correct?” You ask. Alastor nods with a smile, and you notice the way it stretches almost painfully across his face. It makes you uneasy, but you ignore the feeling. He’d surely tell about what this is about later on in the night you supposed.

“Why yes we have! I’ve made him loose his signal quite a few times.” Alastor says with a laugh, his laugh track playing. Vox doesnt say anything, though he doesnt have too as his eye twitching had given enough away. The two clearly did not like each other. Than again, you had felt the same way about Alastor when you first met him, so the feeling was understandable.

“Madame, a dance?” Vox asked, turning his attention back to you. You thought for a moment, before untangling your arm from Alastors and nodding to Vox, taking his outstretched hand to you and leading you to the dance floor, which now had a couple other sinners dancing as well. Alastor held onto his staff tight, but relaxed as you discreetly slid him a card. In white with black lettering, cursive font. Seat number five. He was invited to your table. Guaranteed a seat. That was enough to have him back in light spirits, now searching out his dear friend Rosie to share the good news.

Velvet had been looking for you all over, her assistant close in toe. She had tried her hardest to get to you when you initially made your enterance, but alas you had been too overcrowded with people for her to get to you. She had heard rumors about how you hated rudeness and disrespect. That meant no interruptions, and no loud speaking, or vulgar language. She was sure to keep herself in check, and that meant her colleagues too. So, naturally, you could imagine her shock upon seeing Vox dancing with you on the dance floor, black dress twirling at your feet. You looked so regal, so elegant, flawless. She wanted to be just like you. She waited patiently on the sidelines, waiting for the dance to end. She could see the two of you having a conversation, but couldn’t pinpoint what about.

“So, I presume you’re one of the, newer overlords?” You asked as the two of you danced. Vox chuckled, leading you slowly.

“New? Well, maybe to you I would be. I heard you haven’t really left your own head for quite some time.” Vox says lowly. You nod, letting him dip you.

“Yes that would be correct. So what are you supposed to be exactly?” You ask, quite unsure of his purpose. Overlords are meant to have a strong leading purpose in hell, so what was his?

“Well, you’re looking at the head of Vox Tech. A software company.” He says, and you hum in understanding.

“So modern technology.” You confirm, and he nods, pearly whites shining brightly back at you.

“You’re looking at the future Madame.” Vox says, spinning you quickly, before bringing you close by your hip.

“Interesting. So, what’s your social influence?” You ask. Vox thinks for a moment, before laughing to himself.

“People have televisions in all their homes. Any piece of modern technology comes strictly from me. With a little mind control, there isn’t any influence I don’t have.” Vox says, noticing a sinner walk by with a smart watch, to which he holds a finger up to you, sending himself through it, and then to another sinner with their smartphone, making his way around the room in seconds before he’s back in front of you, stepping in time for the next number. “See? Nothing I can’t do.” He says with a wink. You nod slowly, looking around the room. Being back out in the spotlight after being gone for so long makes you feel a bit, behind. But with an overlord like this in your circle, maybe this could be a way for you to keep up with the current world, get you back up to pace. The dance finally comes to a close, and the two of you bow to one another, before you summon a card, handing it to Vox. Seat number nine. Vox grinned at you, giving you a nod. You nod back, before looking at another sinner who’s asked to speak with you. With that, you leave Vox at the dance floor, white card in hand. His spot at your table was secured. But, this made his emotions churn even more. What was this feeling he had? He was happy yes, but for the companies sake. But, maybe for once, he could mix just a little business with pleasure.

Charlotte had lost her partner at the bar and had been looking for her for quite some time. However, instead of finding Vagatha, she found you instead. You had seemed to be finishing a conversation with Vox, and though she disliked him, she took her chance the moment she saw you walking away.

“Excuse me, Madame- Miss- Um.” Charlotte said quickly, causing you to stop in your tracks. She got closer to you, now a few inches away. It was then she realized how tall you were compared to her. You were easily around seven feet, or just under that. With your heels that was. You looking down at her made her feel intimidated, small, like the child. But, feeling her nerves rise, she began to ramble again. “I know you probably have a lot to do tonight and I don’t want to take up your time, I just want you to hear me out, if that’s okay with you of course.” Charlotte said quickly, pausing to inhale. You narrowed your eyes at her, snapping your fingers and causing a shadow to appear next to you, singular glass on the tray. It was the same tall shadow from earlier, with the same drink. Again, using testing the temperature of the drink, before nodding to you so you could take it. You lifted the glass to your lips, maintaining eye contact with Charlotte as you drank the wine in one go, putting it down on the tray with a sigh.

“Go on.” You replied, now intrigued. You knew who she was. “You’re the girl with the hotel? Lucifer and Lilith’s child, correct?” You asked. Charlotte smiled, stars appearing in her eyes as she gushed.

“You know who I am?” She asked surprised. You nodded, cracking a small smile for the first time tonight, causing many eyes to stare in shock. You hardly ever smiled. In fact, there were three counts ever of you smiling in hell. Once, when you first got to hell, killing and claiming territory, and smiling once you finally settled down. The second being after World War One, when so many souls came to you seeking ‘help’ yet only being met with contracts. Third, being just before the extermination you disappeared after. You had gone through your belongings from Earth that managed to get brought to you from the surface, and was looking at family photos with one other overlord. Zestial. Now, at the gala, here was Lucifer’s brat, as some would call, making you crack a grin at her giddiness.

“Of course I know who you are. Do you forget I know your mother? You’re practically a niece of mine at this point.” You say, motioning at Charlotte to walk with you. “Now, what is this hotel I’ve heard about?” You ask. She beams at this and follows excitedly.

“OkaysobasicallyIhavethishotelandit’scalledthe’HazbinHotel’whichisforsinnerswhowantobebetterandredeemthemselvestotryand-“ You stopped her, allowing her to take a breath of air after rambling for so long. You lead her outside, finding a nearby bench to sit on. With how quickly she spoke, she needed all the ‘fresh’ air she could get right?

“Why are you speaking so quickly? Also, sinners who want to better themselves? Where would you find those?” You ask with a laugh, the same tall shadow appearing with a glass for you. Again, you sip on your drink as Charlotte collects herself together.

“Usually if I explain slowly people cut me off and I never get to finish, so I’ve gotten used to just saying everything as quickly as possible so they don’t cut me off and actually listen to what I have to say.” Charlotte says, again rather quickly. “Like I was saying; the Hazbin Hotel is a place for sinners who want to better themselves to possibly try to get into heaven through redemption, and I know what you’re thinking, we’ve all died and got sent here, but I believe people can change and that everyone deserves second chances.” Charlotte explained. She saw the look of confusion on your face, and began to speak again. “We already have two residents, who are making strides to be better people every day with group activities and I believe it’s working. If I could just get other people on board, people like you on board who actually believe in my cause, then we can get rid of extermination and maybe save some people here.” Charlotte explained. You thought for a moment, and the fact you hadn’t laughed in her face yet gave her some hope that maybe she had gotten through to you. You stood up, setting your empty glass on the tray before the shadow disappeared.

“Honestly,” You said with a sigh, looking around, your eyes landing on your shadows serving other guests. “The entire project sounds delusional.” You said sharply. Charlotte looked down at this, defeated, before standing as well.

“Well, thank you for hearing me out I guess. You’re the only other person who has aside from Alastor. So, thank you for your time.” Charlotte said, turning to walk back inside the gala, head hanging low with tears brimming her eyes. Maybe it was the connection to her mother, maybe it was because she reminded you of her mother. But, something had to change.

“I didn’t say we were done speaking Charlotte.” You said sharply again. She stopped and tensed up at that, before turning around, wiping a tear that slipped down her cheek.

“W-what?” She asked. You stepped forward to her, putting your hands flat together before smoke encased them. Then seconds later it was gone, and in your hands was a white card. You handed it to her with a nod.

“It sounds delusional. But, maybe someone will like that about you.” You said. She read the card, face dropping once she realized what it meant.

“So, so I can sit with you tonight? I can pitch my idea?” She asked excitedly. You nodded, patting her shoulder.

“Yes you may. I’ll allow you to have your time. You get thirty minutes, there will be overlords and royalty there, I’m sure someone is bound to take an interest in it.” You say. Charlotte squeals excitedly before jumping up and down, clapping her hands.

“Oh my goodness! Thank you so so so much!! You won’t regret this I swear!” Charlotte said, and you just nodded.

“Of course I won’t. I don’t make mistakes.” You say, before walking past her. “Oh, and thank Alastor for that. He was insistent you be present at my table tonight.” You say to her. She’s left standing outside in shock, watching as you walk back into the lobby to socialize with other guests.

It seemed Velvet had finally caught you, rushing her assistant to follow you as she made her way over to you.

“Madame, you look absolutely breathtaking tonight! Your presence here is like a beacon of individuality and charisma,” she exclaims, eyes sparkling. You look her up and down for a moment, stopping in your tracks to listen to her. Something feels, odd about this one. “I’ve been ardently following your unique style for ages, and it’s truly an honor to be in your presence. The way you effortlessly blend boldness with subtlety, it’s unparalleled, truly outstanding. Now, I’ve ventured into a daring new fashion brand, and I can’t help but envision you as the unrivaled star in my collection. Picture it: the illustrious Madame, gracing the world with a revolutionary expression of style. This would be the perfect way to make your way back into the public eye, and of course you would look ravishing doing so.” Velvet said, her assistant handing you sketches of Velvets designs, and photographs of some of her work on her models. “So, what do you say Madame? Will you be the luminary of a new era in Hell’s fashion?” Velvet says. You grow quiet for a moment. Aside from Rosie, you’ve had no other overlord come into the fashion realm, and Rosie is only partially in it as a side hustle, but everyone knows it’s your thing. The designs are things you would never wear, bold and odd colors together, like a child’s clothing line.

“Is this for children?” You ask. Velvet nearly chokes and her assistant tenses up.

“No Madame. It’s modern fashion.” Velvet says cautiously. She knows what she’s doing. Correcting you. No one ever does that. You don’t need to be corrected because you know what you’re looking at. A sad fashion designer who wants you to slap your name on her sloppy work so if it goes up in flames it’s your reputation taking the fall, not her’s.

“So all your models look like they came from a whore house? Correct?” You ask. Velvet’s jaw drops and her assistant hides a laugh. Velvet, inhaling softly, tries her hardest not to cry on the spot. You’re her idol. She can’t fuck this up.

“No Madame! Not at all!” She says, showing you a design she had made personally for you. Based on your other collections, she knows your favorite color is black, so that’s a plus. All she had to do was add a bit more, of her flair to it. It was a black jumpsuit, with a fur coat that dropped down to the knees, black with white fur around the edges of the coat and the cuffs. The sketch wasn’t half bad, and quite frankly better than the others. Maybe it was the forgiving mood Charlotte had put you in. Velvet hands you the design and you skim over it, taking in the details, the hair and eye makeup, the shoes and jewelry notes written on the side. The sketches aren’t bad, but modern fashion isn’t your fashion.

“I’ll consider it. Do you mind if I keep these?” You ask. Velvet shakes her head, handing you the folder from her assistants hands.

“Please, take whatever you’d like Madame!” Velvet says. You nod, flipping through the pages.

“You’ll hear from me soon. In the meantime, I want new sketches of these designs. Modern fashion is fast fashion. Nothing stays memorable that way. You want to be good?” You ask her, and she nods quickly. “Then be better. Modesty and elegance are what people strive for. It radiates power, and everyone is greedy for that. If you can sell that through an item, you won’t ever go out of style.” You say, handing her back the folder, keeping the sketch she’d done for you. Well, at least you liked something. Vevelt nodded her head and watched you walk away, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Um, miss?” Her assistant asked.

“What?” Velvet asked annoyingly.

“She left a card on the folder.”

At that , Velvets eyes snapped down at the folder, before she screamed in excitement. Seat number six. She was invited to your table. Mission accomplished. Now, with only six seats left to fill, you were off to talk to your other guests. The night had proved to be interesting, and you knew your encore would not disappoint.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin vaggie #hazbin demon #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel rosie #alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere vox #yandere vox x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #isuckatwritingsobenice #isuckatwritingsobenice infernal shadows

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written-in-flowers · 7 months ago

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Their Pretty Pet: Sanhwajoong x Fem!reader

Pairing: Incubus!Hongjoong, Incubus!Seonghwa, Incubus!San x Fem!Human!Reader | side pairings: SanHwaJoong

Genre: smut, loads of it MINORS DNI

Word Count: 7k

Summary: Being brought before Lords of Inferno, you expected to be killed on the spot, except the three incubi take an extreme liking to you instead. You are the pet they've been looking for, and you should could yourself lucky.

Tags: Master/Slave relationship, polyamory, mmmxf, foursome sex, triple penetration, oral sex (m. and f. giving/receiving), rough oral sex, vaginal fingering, handjobs, pet names ("pretty" "pet" "whore" "slut" "bitch" "kitten" "darling" and variations/ "master" "my lord") monster fucking, demon fucking, belly bulging, bigdick!ateez, creampies, massive creampies, degradation, slight humiliation, slight dumbification, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, rough sex, bisexual sex, breeding kink, vibrating demon dick, spanking, nipple play, breast play, cum swallowing, deep throating, anal sex.

@pirateeznet

Pretty Lady Masterlist

***

The nerves rattled your bones, and weakened your knees. Your mind told your feet to keep up with Rufus, but your body did not cooperate. Only by the tug of a chain did you finally move. Even with cool nighttime breeze blowing through the courtyard, a cold sweat came over you. You had no business coming up the Black Keep. Sinners like you are meant to be an amusement for the lower demons; you committed sins in your life that earned you a spot in the third level of Hell, Lust. You spent eternity in the brothels of the city of Inferno, being a pleasure slave to anyone with enough coin.

You’d learned high-class demons only pay for well bred slaves or lesser demon forms. The ones trained in the finer arts, who speak multiple languages, can do magic and are skilled in instruments of culture and torture. You only learned the sexual practices your clients and owners taught you.

They won't want you, and the moment they realize what you are, you're dead.

“Stop dawdling, wretch,” Rufus, a large, muscular demon with bright red skin and tall black horns, tugged on your chain harshly. He then growled when you did not move. “Lords do not wait on bottom dwellers like you.”

You said nothing as you forced yourself to move. In your flimsy shift, you could feel every brush of cool air blow past you. It normally did not bother you, but you struggled to breathe through your tight chest. He guided you to the tall wooden doors with their snake shaped knockers. In three loud slams, the door creaked open. On the other side stood a very tall man with black hair parted to the side. He wore a black and white suit and gloves. Round eyes carried a certain haughtiness that you'd grown used to seeing.

“Can I help you?” He asked.

“Evening, I have come to see The Masters Hongjoong, Seonghwa and San. I have brought a prospective pet for them,” Rufus responded, tugging your chain to bring you closer.

The butler took one look at you, then stood aside. “Very well. Follow me. They are just finishing with another proprietor.”

Rufus didn't like the idea of another slave owner being in the castle. It meant competition, and he hated that. He, as always, took it out on you by roughly pulling on your leash. The butler led you through a hall of black and white marble, surrounded by landscape paintings and other ancient possessions. A candlelit chandelier hung from the high ceiling, bathing the room in a bright golden glow. The carpet liners on the floor felt soft beneath your feet, and the castle was quiet and still. He took you around the staircase into an adjacent hallway, where you saw her.

A succubus and her handler left the room; the handler seething and the succubus in silent tears. From her expensive satin halter dress to her leather sandals to the golden ornaments in her hair, you knew a succubus when you saw one. She had real horns and a real tail. Rufus paid a stylist to braid and glue ram horns into your head; then, he paid a leatherworker to create a realistic tail to seal on your tailbone. The braiding pained your scalp, the glue made you nauseous, and the tail swished uncomfortably. How long did Rufus think this charade would last? Long enough for him to run off with the money, no doubt. You hated thinking of what would happen when your “owners” find out you’re not a demon at all. They’ll tear you apart and send you to the deepest pits where the worst of the worst suffer an eternity of torment.

The thought terrified you.

“Masters,” the butler said when he entered a sitting room, “Another slave owner has arrived with a prospect for you.”

The voices inside the room turned quiet. “Who?” asked a particularly high voice.

The butler turned to Rufus, “Name?”

“Rufus, from the House of Kisses.”

The butler repeated this to his masters. “Bring him in,” the voice finally said.

Rufus brought you into the room. Full of warm light, pricy decorations, and extravagant furniture, you'd never been amongst such opulence before. Three loveseats sat in the middle of the room around a square coffee table. A different man sat on each one. You knew they were incubi by the small curved horns on the crown of their heads. Demons of lust carried this trait, as well as long black tails to match. The petite man with hair the color of fresh cherries spotted you first. He casually drank from a brandy glass as he observed you. His satin black shirt and slacks gave him a trendy look that would kill in the living world.

Beside him in the center on the white couch sat a long-limbed man with black hair reaching his shoulders. Angular features gave him a deadly appearance that matched the glint in his dark eyes. The cream colored shirt he wore was kept together by a matching corset and pants. He didn’t look up at first, since he focused mainly on the book in his lap instead.

The third sat on a couch of dark blue cotton with gold pillows. His big shoulders stretched the blazer he wore, which you noticed covered nothing but his bare chest. Sculpted and tan, he was to die for.

And you just might when they learn the truth.

“Slaver,” the butler addressed Rufus, “May I present Lords Hongjoong,” he gestured to the red haired man, “Seonghwa,” he motioned to the man holding the book, “And San.”

“Well met, my lords.”

“Well, well, well,” Hongjoong said in a bored voice, knocking back the rest of his drink, “Look, Brothers, another slaver coming to waste our time.”

“Oh, no, my lord,” Rufus said, “I promise your time will not be wasted on this one.”

“Why is that?” asked Seonghwa, putting his book aside.

“This one here's a true blood succubus,” he said, already putting on his salesman voice. “Born and bred in the valley, she is a true born demon. She's nothing like the half-breeds and soulless human shells those other charlatans bring before you. See here, my lords?” He roughly pulled you to them by your horn, “These are real succubus horns! And this tail!” He yanked on your long, thin tail, “Is entirely her own. I know some slavers have been sticking on fake parts, but I assure you, my lords, this one's the real thing!”

The three men looked at one another, then back to him. “Bring her closer.”

Rufus pulled you over to them, letting you stand in the warm firelight. Three pairs of eyes stripped off your dress, and peeled back the layers of your skin to your soul. San's thin eyes fell heavy when he saw you fully. Seonghwa held you with intrigue, while Hongjoong looked ready to devour you. You gulped thickly and did not look at any of them directly.

“What can you do?” Hongjoong asked.

“Do, my lord?”

“Yes, do. Can you speak any languages besides the common tongue?”

“No.”

“Can you read and write?”

“Some.”

“Can you sing?”

“No.”

“Dance?”

“No.”

“Do you specialize in any form of magic?”

“No.”

The more he asked, the dumber you felt. You wanted to tell them to look at you. You are not a demon, let alone a succubus.

“Then what can you do?” He asked, laughing softly.

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa said, “Stop being so mean. It's not her fault.” He stood up and walked towards you. Lifting your head by the chin, he said, “The only thing these low born succubi are taught is how to suck cock…isn't that right, pet?”

“Yes,” you squeaked.

“And can you do that?”

“She certainly can, my lord!” Rufus said from behind, “YN is one of my best! She's made men cum in less than two minutes!”

“I was asking her,” the man snapped. “I personally have no interest in slaves who do quick, sloppy work. I like to take my time.” He touched a strand of your hair, feeling the texture and taking in the length. “You'll need good grooming,” he noted flatly. “Luckily, Wooyoung is an expert in his field. He'll make you shine, little pet.”

It happened then, or at least you think it did. A flicker of realization hit Seonghwa as he looked over your face. He gave an audible sniff, his demon senses beginning to tingle. Yet, he said nothing about it, and turned your head to examine you in the light.

“Can she fight?” San asked Rufus.

“Psh, can she fight?” He scoffed comically at the question, “Of course she can! She used to be a pit fighter in-”

“-Can you fight?” He turned to you.

“No.”

“Why would she need to learn how to fight, San?” Hongjoong asked, annoyed. The butler came around to refill his drink. “She won't be doing any of that. She could get badly damaged, and then where would we be, hm?”

“Do you like going to the arena?” San asked, ignoring Hongjoong.

“I've never been there.”

San nodded, then leaned back on his couch and held out his glass. The butler poured more brown liquid for him, and you watched him take a drink.

“Yunho,” Seonghwa left you by the fireplace and went to his couch, “What do you think of her?”

“Master?” Yunho asked, confused.

“Yes, what do you think of her? You'll be around her too. Is she pleasing to look at in your opinion?”

Yunho turned to you, and seemed to be really looking at you now. He scanned over your horns the most. They’re meant to look like his, curled and rolled back from his face. If anyone could spot fake ones, it should be him. You expected him to out you, but he instead said, “Yes. She is lovely.”

The three men appear to take this into account. “Take off your dress,” Hongjoong orders.

“Well, hold on now, my lord,” Rufus begins to say, “We haven't discussed-”

“-I am not paying for something without inspecting it myself,” Hongjoong glared at Rufus. The ghoulish demon falters at this, and you see him back away. Hongjoong turned back to you, “Your dress. Take it off.”

You immediately unclip the back of your dress and let the top half fall over your belt. The sight of your breasts stunned the three men. Their eyes focused on them before you loosened your belt and let the rest of your clothes fall. Seonghwa bit the corner of his lip, trying to control his breathing as his eyes fell between your thighs. This is not the first time customers examine you. You’d grown used to it over the years of being in Hell. You are a toy to be played with. You are not your own anymore. You lost that when you began your life of lust, greed and overindulgence. When presented with the option to continue punishment or serve demons instead, you took servitude over the painful torture. In a way, enslavement was its own breed of torture.

Hongjoong turned in his seat, leaning against the arm rest as he continued gazing at you. San coughed and covered his own interest with a drink, but he still kept his eyes on you.

“Beautiful,” Seonghwa breathed. “Absolutely stunning.”

“You keep her groomed between her thighs but not the rest?” Hongjoong asked Rufus, though he kept his eyes on you.

“That's what they care about the most. My patrons do not have your refined tastes, my lord.”

“Clearly. Come here.”

You walk to him, which brings a smile to Hongjoong's face. “You obey instructions well,” he said, looking back down to your sex. “I like that.”

He gently touched the outside of your thigh, feeling the smooth skin and groping the supple flesh. You took in how his fingers felt on your thigh, the sensation sending shivers throughout your body. Hongjoong ran his hand up and down your thigh before reaching around to your backside. He gave one cheek a tender squeeze, humming his approval.

“Very nice,” he commented, moving his hand between your thighs. You gasped when his fingers brushed your exposed center. “Very, very nice,” he said, rubbing his knuckle lightly along your slit. He chuckled when he heard your whimper. “Do you like that?”

“Yes.”

He licked his thumb while maintaining eye contact, then he dragged it across your lips. A soft whimper escaped your throat as he traced the outer folds one by one; right when you thought he'd finally touch more, he dipped away. Finally, Hongjoong rolled his thumb around your clit, running over it languidly. Once a bit of wetness covered his thumb, Hongjoong tasted it while he gazed up at you.

“Delicious,” he said, going back to rubbing your sex torturously slow. “I could get used to this.”

“Stop hogging,” griped Seonghwa. He took your hand to lead you from Hongjoong's black leather sofa to his pure white one. He took over, and you gasped when two thumbs pushed your lips apart. “The best way to know is to taste it right from the source,” he said, leaning forward.

A single swipe of his tongue made you quiver. You weren’t sure if they enjoyed reactions, so you kept silent and stiff. Seonghwa took both sides and dove right to your center. You felt his tongue gingerly swiping at your damp lips, sliding between to tease your clit as much as possible. Your teeth dug into your bottom in an attempt to restrain your whimpering. However, your shaking knees started giving you away.

“Moan for us, pretty,” Seonghwa ordered, pecking kisses across your thighs. “We want to hear how sweet you sound.”

“Don’t be shy,” San said, palming himself through his pants. “Let it out.”

So you did. The sounds you tried stifling came out as Seonghwa’s tongue rapidly flicked at your clit. You’d been shaking by the time San came up behind you, and pressed your back to his chest. Without a word, he lifted one of your legs to rest it on the edge of the couch, and became a support to keep you upright. With more access to you, Seonghwa angled himself to have your sex completely on his mouth. San’s warm hands cupped both your breasts, and grazed your hard nipples with his thumbs. The light brushes added to the tightening sensation going on in your gut.

“I’ve never seen a shy succubus before,” San said, voice low and deep in your ear. “I thought you all liked being fucked from sun up to sun down. Unless…you’re not really a demon at all?”

“Wha-what?” Rufus exclaimed. “I told you she was, didn’t I?! I assure you, my lord-”

Rufus stopped when San reached to the “tail” you wore and tore it from you in a hard snap. The glue Rufus used ripped at your skin, the pain only distracting you from your pleasure for a brief moment. Seonghwa ceased when San tossed the fake tail onto the couch. Seeing the rubber extension beside him, he looked up to the horns braided into your scalp. It’d taken the stylist hours to fix them on your head, using loads of glue and tight lacing to keep them upright. Seonghwa stood up and tugged on one. You let out a cry, killing any arousal inside you as he lifted it enough to see your hair braided into the holes.

“How dare you,” San scowled from behind you, “Try and fool us, you pathetic little worm.”

“I-I-I…” Rufus struggled for a defense, and went for the only one he could think of, “She’s a human? I-I can’t believe it! The slaver I bought her from said she was a pureblood! I had no idea! I promise you, my lord, if I’d known that she was a human, I would never have dared bring her here!”

“How stupid do you think we are?” San asked, leaving you to face Rufus. “You really thought you could bring a human up here and try passing her off as a trueborn demon? Did you forget that the three of us are demons too?”

“I swear, my lord, I did not know! I am just as surprised as you are!”

A quick slash of silver and a spray of black blood went through the air. Rufus’s large hands clutched at his neck as blood started pouring from the open wound. He collapsed to the ground, gasping and gurgling pathetically as he clung to life. You didn’t know where demons went if they died, and you never asked. When Rufus finally laid dead on the floor, San held out his hand and Yunho produced a white handkerchief. San used it to wipe off the blade before handing both to Yunho.

“Get rid of this filth,” San commanded, “Feed him to Dennis.”

“At once, Master.”

San turned around to you, and all the blood drained from your body. Alone with three incubi who were nearly swindled by your idiot slaver, you knew where they’d turn their anger next. You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting a harsh blow any second. The second a pair of hands touched your hips, you jolted and gave a small squeal of fear. Yet, instead of harsh bruises or angry words, you felt warm lips dotting kisses on your thighs. San unbuttoned and removed his jacket, his tanned torso glowing in the fire light, and his dark eyes gleaming with lust. Hongjoong did the same, untucking and unbuttoning his shirt.

“Pl-Plea-se,” you begged, eyes starting to sting, “I-I had nothing to do with it. I was only doing what I was told. I swear, I didn’t want to do it. He made me. I can only do what my owners tell me to do. I promise I’d never-”

“-Relax, pet,” Seonghwa soothed you with more kisses, doing so as he unclipped his corset and tossed it aside. “We’re not angry with you at all.”

“You’re not?”

“Why would we be?” Hongjoong asked, taking San’s place behind you. His warm naked chest slowly rekindled the arousal inside you. Hands sailing up your body to your tits, he grabbed them gently as he spoke in your ear. “We just got a new pet for free. I don’t see that as a reason to be angry, do you?”

“But…But, I’m useless. I’m not a succubus or any other kind of demon. I’m…”

“Fresh,” he said, kissing your neck, “Brand new. You’re like fresh clay, ready to be molded however we want. Why would I want a regular demon who already knows everything over a human that I can shape to my tastes instead?”

“Succubi are boring, in my opinion,” said San, unbuckling his pants as he watched the other two kiss and fondle you. “They all like the same things, cast the same spells, and bore me to tears with their seductive talk. I told my brothers I wanted something new; something I’ve never tried before. We’re incubi, so banging other succubi or incubi can get boring. It’s fine if we’re feeding, but for pleasure…I prefer something a little more interesting.”

“And you’re such a pretty thing too,” Seonghwa added, kissing up your stomach as he stood up. “So soft and warm,” he slashed one of your nipples with his tongue, “And you taste so good.”

“Your pussy tastes like strawberries,” said Hongjoong, who held your breasts for Seonghwa to suck on. “I fear I might grow addicted to it after tonight.”

“I haven’t gotten a taste yet,” San protested, who walked over to the three of you fully nude.

“She is yummy,” he smirked, going back for a second taste with wet fingers. “But, I’d love to see what she can do with these pretty lips.”

He turned you to face him, the other two falling to your sides instead, as he slipped his hand against your wet center. Two fingers teased around the edges of your clit, occasionally brushing up on it before pulling away. The repeated motions made you dizzy, and you knew you’d cum sooner or later. The three of them created this intense arousal that burned like fire. They’d made a knot in your pussy, and only with their fingers and tongue could it be undone. San licked your essence off his fingers, approving of your supposed sweet taste. Hongjoong and Seonghwa continued teasing your nipples; each man took one side to grab and lick while San touched your pussy.

He coated both his fingers in you again before lifting them to your mouth. Instinctively, you opened for him to slide them over your tongue. The three of them groaned when you sucked your juices off his fingers; the act alone made you throb.

“Let’s take our pet somewhere more comfortable,” Seonghwa suggested, reaching between your thighs to rub you. “It’s our first time. We should enjoy her properly.”

“I agree,” said Hongjoong, licking up your neck while his hand joined Seonghwa on your pussy. Each demon took turns rubbing circles around your sensitive clit while San slid his thumb into your mouth next, “Besides, it’s too dark in here. I want to see all of her while I fuck her senselessly.”

They spoke about you as if you weren’t standing there, and you liked it. You’d learned long ago that you’re meant for pleasure. It was so rare a demon gave it back to you that you’d do nothing to ruin your chances. With a click of their fingers, you found yourself standing in a dimly lit room. Not bothered by your surroundings at the moment, you let the three men take you over to a large canopy bed in a corner of the bedroom. It was wide enough to comfortably fit all four of you, with white and pale blue sheets matching the drapes tied to the bedposts. They sat you on the edge of the bed, circling you with their cocks in their hands. They were perfect. Longer and thicker than you’re used to, you knew they’d split you open in the best possible way. You swallowed the saliva building in your mouth seeing them up close now.

“Stick out your tongue for me.”

Hongjoong held himself by the shaft as he rubbed his tip on your tongue. The high moans he let out only fueled the flames. You licked up and down his length, tracing the veins pumping blood through it before taking him in your mouth. Humming around the sensitive head, you tasted the thin, salty precum already. Hongjoong let out soft sighs as he watched you work him into your mouth inch by inch. Dark eyes full of lust, you suddenly became his entire world. While you gingerly sucked his cock, you started slowly stroking Seonghwa and San’s in time with it. You enjoyed the feeling of them pulsating in your hands; the muscles twitched whenever your thumb touched the underside, tracing the wrinkles just underneath the head. It reminded you of home for a moment: the big New Year’s office party where you fucked those three interns in the mailroom. They’d been so hot and you’d been so horny, the consequences at the time didn’t bother you. They never did, quite frankly. You were a big shot CEO. You had expensive tastes and an insatiable appetite. You still had that even in Hell where you’re nobody.

“Take it all the way,” Hongjoong groaned, holding your head to push further into your mouth. “I know you can. Sluts like you are experts at taking dicks in your throat. You can do it.”

You coughed and sputtered around him as he sunk towards your throat. His tip brushing against your uvula created a gagging sound that made all three men moan. Your pussy throbbed as you took him in your throat, loving how it blocked your airway entirely and nearly suffocated you. Hongjoong enjoyed this for a few strokes before pulling you off him, strings of spit connecting you both until he fully moved away. Seonghwa turned your head to face him, and laughed when you opened your mouth for him.

“She certainly understands her place already,” he said, holding your hair as he started fucking your mouth. “We don’t need to go through the trouble of breaking her.”

“She’s been broken for quite a while,” groaned San, who guided your hand to spread his precum over his thick cock. “I can tell. She gives into it so easily.”

“She knows what she’s made for,” Hongjoong grinned, keeping your hand still as he pushed into it instead. “Don’t you, slut?” They laughed when you nodded in agreement. “You see, you don’t have to be a demon to be well bred.”

“She’ll certainly be bred after tonight.”

“If only,” San mused somewhat sadly.

So rarely did you get to enjoy good looking demons. The ones who came to the “House of Kisses” were foul-smelling, long-clawed, black-eyed creatures who squealed and grunted through it. They acted more like animals humping their favorite stuffed toy. You hardly ever enjoyed a lover who took their time with you, who tasted delightful and gave you pleasure in return. It was something you'd do anything to keep.

When Seonghwa pulled out, San turned your head to keep your mouth full. You’d initially sucked him firmly, moaning around his cock while sinking down to the base every time. Drool dropped onto your chest as you did so, not daring to break away unless he said so. But then, San held you by the hair as his brothers had done and made his own pace.

“Suck a little softer, pet. I like it more-Oh, yes,” he sighed dreamily, melting in your mouth as you followed his instructions exactly. “Someone really is trying to avoid going back down there, hm?” he joked, head tilting back once you started slowly deep-throating him. “Don't worry, pet,” he soothed you with gentle head pats, “You're not going anywhere.”

This went on for a while: they all took various turns in your mouth, and you sucked according to how they enjoyed it. Hongjoong went rougher, shoving himself in your mouth and guiding you by the neck. Seonghwa kept it steady and breathily gave orders as if you’d never given a blowjob before. San, as you expected, liked it light and soft. You’d learned how to play to a client’s appetites in order to avoid upsetting your owners. If a customer complained enough or you’d disobeyed them somehow, you’d end up back in the winds of lust. You didn’t want to be flung around the air in dizzying circles; the harsh, cold winds freezing your skin while bits of debris or other prisoners crashed into you. It had been madness. They tortured you by making you feel relentless sensations of all kinds. You'd taken part so much in life, your death only made sense.

You shouldn't have snorted all that blow.

“On the bed,” Hongjoong ordered, “It’s our turn now.”

You slid further up the bed until your lower half hung off the edge. San and Seonghwa each propped a leg onto their shoulder, and kept you fully exposed to the three of them. The hunger in their eyes created a whole new arousal for you; your breath hitched when Hongjoong laid a flat, wide lick up your wet lips, ending with a hard suck to your clit. Your needy whine pleased them, and brought on more attention. San laid soft kisses and gentle nips of his teeth down your inner thighs. Your pussy throbbed in Hongjoong’s expert mouth, which caused him to chuckle against it. Seonghwa did the same, licking from knee to the apex of your thighs where he flicked your pussy tenderly.

The pleasure boiled inside you when two fingers slipped between your folds. San rolled his thumb around your clit while Hongjoong and Seonghwa joined together to finger you. Their groans joined yours as you lost yourself in the feeling building in every stroke.

“She has such a pretty pussy,” Seonghwa moaned, pushing his finger into the last knuckle. He and Hongjoong fingered you at different speeds, so neither one left your pussy empty and wanting. “It’s so wet and squeezing my finger nicely. I can’t imagine what it’ll feel when I’m fucking her.”

“I’ll have to be careful,” Hongjoong said, “Otherwise I’m afraid I’ll finish too quickly. It’s been way too long since I had anything good in my bed.”

“I want to feel it too,” pouted San, who took a few licks to your clit before sucking up the juices flooding it. When one of them removed his finger, San replaced it immediately. He hummed his delight at the walls squeezing both his and his brother’s fingers. “How can human pussy be better than demon pussy?” he giggled, “I don’t get it.”

“Have no idea,” Hongjoong shrugged, content watching his brothers finger you together. “I don’t really care either. We have a dumb little toy that we can build however we like.” His brothers broke away as he began kissing from the middle up to your breasts. Cupping them, he gave hard squeezes that made you wriggle in his grasp. “I can make her into whatever I want her to be.” He kissed up your neck to your ear, biting it tenderly. “You’re going to be the obedient, compliant submissive I’ve always wanted.” You moaned when his cock slid up between your folds, rubbing directly on your clit. He giggled at your hips bucking against him, and held them down. You tried moving into him, but his firm grip kept you against the bed. “The pretty bitch that fucks like she’s in constant heat,” he traced your jaw with his fingers, letting his dick settle right over your pussy but not moving. “The perfect slave. My slave.”

“How crass,” scoffed Seonghwa, who shoved his brother off you and took his place. Unlike Hongjoong, Seonghwa gradually grinded into you. Pushing stray hairs from your face, he said, “I prefer a pretty toy over a slave,” he said, cupping your jaw and kissing you deeply. The mixture of your fluids filled your mouth when his tongue rolled around yours. His full lips worked yours open slowly, his tongue sliding over yours before beginning to roll around. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be a lovely doll that sings and plays music and reads to me. You’ll be the picture of innocence in front of others,” he pecked your lips as he kept grinding, “But a filthy slut getting fucked by me every night.”

When he lifted you further up on the bed, as expected, San slid right between you and Seonghwa. “That’s dumb,” he said, feeling up your body to your chest. Sucking on one nipple, he allowed you to grind into him. “Everyone knows what you are,” he changed sides, and rolled his tongue around it. “I can’t marry you, but I can certainly enjoy the benefits of pretending.” He sealed his lips over yours, and you easily opened your mouth to let him explore. “A lovely wife who cooks and cleans for me…Who does whatever she can to please me…make sure I’m content and comfortable. Isn’t that what every man wants? Why can’t I want it?”

“Because you have servants who do all that already,” snorted Seonghwa from beside you.

You turned over to see him and Hongjoong locked in a passionate embrace. Seonghwa watched both you and San through heavy lidded eyes. Hongjoong turned his head from you to kiss him passionately, both of them moaning in each other’s mouths. Something about the sight aroused you more. You gazed down to where they met to see their hands wrapped around one another. Clear droplets fell from the slits to their shafts, where each brother used it to slicken their movements. You kept watching them kiss and touch before something thick pushed inside you slowly.

“Oh fuck…” San breathed, eyes falling shut and head going forward as he carefully filled you.

Being stretched around him distracted you from anything else in the room. You grabbed San’s biceps, nails digging into the hard muscles as the pressure intensified. Once he became fully sheathed inside you, you swore you felt his tip bulge your belly slightly. It was a feeling you could never get enough of. Even with other customers, if they could reach that far into you, you became absolutely weak. Holding you close, he kissed you as he gently fucked into you.

“Perfect,” he moaned against your lips, “Perfect. My little wife is taking my dick so well, and loving it so much. Here,” he took your hand to place on your belly, “Feel that? That’s me, pet. That’s me fucking you so deep you feel it here.” He kept your hand there as he took several long strokes. He grinned when he saw your eyes rolling back. “You’re loving this, huh?” he started going a bit faster, moaning as you tightened around him, “Loving my fat cock ripping you open, hm?”

“Ye-y-yes,” you whimpered, clutching his shoulders and trying to keep still for him.

“It must be the best thing about being a demon slave,” he groaned, “Getting to have demon dick every moment of the day. Let’s see exactly how well you can take this one.”

Kneeling up, he pinned you by the waist, pulling your legs over his thighs as he quickened his pace. Balls slapping against your ass joined your combined moans. He made stars form in front of your eyes; every stroke pushed against your g-spot over and over again, turning you into a moaning mess on the bed. At some point, San began pulling you onto him and he laughed when you began doing it for him.

“You really love it,” he teased, “Look at her.”

“She’s beautiful like this,” said Seonghwa, lazily starting to rub your clit. You noticed his open mouth letting out soft panting, and spotted Hongjoong’s head between his thighs. The red head teasingly swatted his tongue over the slit and underside of the tip, giving it a suck every few licks. “I have a suspicion our pet is a lot naughtier than we first thought. She must have been.”

“Only the filthiest humans are made sex slaves,” San noted, propping himself on his fists and curling you upwards in the process. “You must’ve…must’ve been a whore…a filthy, naughty, slutty whore…”

The degradation. The lack of acknowledgement as they fucked you added to your need for release. You’d always loved being used by your lovers; you loved giving yourself over and letting them do what they wanted. Having these three demons using you and each other was a dream come true. San’s thrusts knocked the headboard into the wall, his groans turning into feral grunts and his strokes becoming feverish. His orgasm came hard, and the hot sensation of his cum painting your walls made you join him. Your body became sensitive to Seonghwa’s hand teasing your clit even as you came; each brush and swirl had you bucking against the sensitivity. When you usually come down from the high quickly, your body starts wearing down, yet that didn’t happen this time. Not with real incubi, and not an average demon. Your orgasm ending, you only wanted more of them.

“My turn,” said Seonghwa.

Hongjoong left his thighs to join San’s side of the bed, the pair sharing soft kisses. He rested himself against the broad man, legs spread for you to see him completely. His cock fully erect, throbbing against his stomach, Hongjoong whimpered when San began stroking him. Both of them looked at you and Seonghwa now, an audience for what you were about to do.

“Get on top, pretty,” Seonghwa said, bringing you on top of him. He didn’t hesitate to impale you on his dick, having the same burning effect as San. “Oh yes,” he panted, head tilting into the soft pillow. “San wasn’t lying.”

You didn’t care when they laughed at you pathetically bouncing on him. Hands on his chest, you raised and lowered your ass onto him in an inconsistent flow. He felt just as good as San, his cock reaching up to your core far too easily. You whined when a hand sharply swatted your ass. You didn’t care whose hand it was; you only cared that the sting added to your pleasure. When he heard you squeal particularly loud, Seonghwa smacked your ass again.

“Desperate cock-whore,” Seonghwa moaned, bringing you forward to keep spanking you. “We’re going to fuck you dumb,” he growled in your ear, “You won’t even remember your own name when we’re done with you.”

The idea of that alone had you rutting against him pathetically. Seonghwa eventually let you kneel back up, and slightly away from him. Hands holding you up behind your back, this position gave all three demons a view of him inside you. Their eyes locked right on where you and Seonghwa met, and when he began pushing up into you, the other two jeered.

“Ride him, slut. Ride him the right way.”

“Don’t be shy. Take him all the way.”

“You’re really a cock-loving whore, aren’t you?” Hongjoong asked in a breath, being teased by San in gradual strokes. “Answer me, slut. Are you a cock-loving whore?”

“Ye-Ye-Yess,” you cried, feeling a second orgasm building in your lower belly.

“Say it. Say ‘Yes, Master. I’m a cock-loving whore’.”

“Yes, Ma-M-Master,” you sobbed, “I’m a cock-cock-lov-loving whore!”

“Keep saying it,” Seonghwa said, pushing his hips upwards, “Say it.”

You did as told, saying the humiliating words as Seonghwa brought you to your second orgasm. It hit you much harder, stiffening your muscles and arching your spine backwards. His deep strokes emphasized each pathetic cry; your tits and ass bounced from the force of his thrusts which delighted the three demons. Having them sitting there, laughing and calling you names sunk you deeper into your arousal. You came even harder when you felt Seonghwa’s hot cum filling you soon enough. Seonghwa’s jaw clenched and he kept his pace steady as he pumped his seed deep inside you. You wanted more. You needed more. Whatever devious pheromone the incubi released sunk into your nostrils and filled your lungs. It smelled like hard candy, roses and cinnamon, turning from scents into a cocktail drug that fueled your body. You swore you ran on their energy and various scents alone.

“Take it all,” he grunted, grabbing your wrists and holding them in front of you, “Take all my cum.”

You would have stopped for a small break at the brothel. By a second orgasm, your body usually gives up. Yet, the brothers did not let you have a break. The power of an incubus must be stronger than you first assumed. Hongjoong grabbed you by the waist, and bent you over in front of him. Pushing your head down into the bed, he wasted no time in forcing himself inside you. Fingers scratching the smooth covers, face buried in their softness, you nearly screamed at the newest cock. Hongjoong did not reach as far as San, but he made sure you felt every hit each time. The only time he slowed down was when San came up behind him. Buried deep in you, you heard Hongjoong let out a long moan that ended in soft panting. Soon, you realized Hongjoong was sandwiched between your pussy and San’s cock. You matched San’s speed so Hongjoong felt pleasure from both ends. The strong pheromones drove you nearly wild now. You wanted him to cum in you too. Even if they couldn’t breed you, you wished they could.

Seonghwa moved around the bed to the front of you, lifted your head and filled your mouth. You greedily sucked up the leftover cum from his dick. His soft rose scent drew you closer to him. You loved the mix of salty and sweetness on your tongue, the remnants flowing from his tip to your throat as you swallowed. Hongjoong twitched inside you, almost creating a vibrating feeling that you’d heard incubi and succubi could do. It had you crying around Seonghwa’s dick; tears streamed from the corners of your eyes as he choked you on it. The combination of fingers rapidly rubbing your pussy, a demon cock shuddering inside you like a vibrator, and knowing San was pounding his demon brother had you trembling in their grasp. When Seonghwa gave you a moment to breathe, drool and cum fell from your lips onto the bed and your eyes remained shut in each euphoric feeling. You focused on nothing but them.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes,” Hongjoong whined, “Fuck me like that. Both of you. Fuck me just like that.”

He hunched over on top of you as he came hard. You and San did as he wished, milking his orgasm from him so he spilled inside you. You soon joined him with a body-shattering third orgasm. Your arms shook, becoming numb and weak from the weakness it brought on. All three of them having had their turn, you assumed it’d be over.

You assumed wrong.

San withdrew from Hongjoong and the latter nearly threw you on top of him. Weakly, you slipped him into your dripping hole and rode him. Hongjoong stood over San’s head, and pushed his cock in your mouth. He hadn’t even gotten soft. You heard from other slaves that incubi could go for hours if they wished. In all realness, that should concern you. Even if you’re technically dead, you could never handle such a lengthy session. Yet, surrounded by these horny incubi, you felt compelled to serve them as they wished. Your jaw burned, and your cheeks felt stiff from the abuse. You knew your throat will be hoarse and painful after tonight. This did not seem to concern any of the demons.

“Stay still for a moment,” Seonghwa said from behind you. “This will only hurt for a little bit.”

San arched your back and spread your ass cheeks apart. A cold, slippery substance fell between them to your hole, which clenched and unclenched to the thick head spreading the lube around.

“Oh-ho,” Hongjoong laughed, “She’s going to love that.”

“What’s the point in three holes if we don’t fill each one?” he asked, pushing the tip inside you.

Your high-pitched moan remained muffled by Hongjoong, though the reaction pleased all three of them. You felt entirely full. Plugged up by each of them, having them move in near unison to keep you still in their grasp, you surrendered over to them completely. Your masters would take you however they wished, and you would not complain. Their cocks felt far too good to refuse. The best ones you’ve ever had in your previous life and in this new hellish one, you drowned yourself in it. Seonghwa grabbed both your tits to keep you in place; San rubbed your clit with his thumb while holding you by your hip; Hongjoong held you by the hair as he pumped in and out of your mouth. You stayed frozen in place as your new owners used you for their pleasure, giving you a bit of it in return.

They all laughed and jeered when you came again. Seonghwa tweaked your nipples when he heard you crying on Hongjoong’s dick; Hongjoong kept himself fully planted in your throat so your moans vibrated around his head. This orgasm made your toes curl, your nails from crescent shapes in your palms, and your muscles shake and burn from constant movement. They didn’t stop. Not for a single second. You became putty by the time they laid you back down. Seonghwa pushed himself inside your ass once more, legs on his chest as he ruthlessly pounded you. San brought your head to the edge of the bed, instantly filling your mouth while Hongjoong lapped and fingered your gushing pussy. You didn’t have much time to enjoy it before San began shuddering, and his cum filled your throat. You struggled to swallow at first, though caught onto it easily until you sucked every thick drop from him.

By the time you laid on your side between Hongjoong and Seonghwa, you lost all sense of time and place. You felt nothing but the constant flow of bliss coursing through your veins.

“What’s your name, pretty?” Seonghwa asked, the taunt in his tone.

You gave an incoherent mumble, eyes shut and body made of jelly by now.

“What was that?” Hongjoong joined in, “We can’t hear you.”

You mumbled again, head lolling as you felt San hover over you. “Come on now,” he said, teasing your clit in slow circles, “You must have a name.”

“If you don’t tell us, we’ll give you one instead,” Seonghwa panted, moving away enough to let San’s hand tease you. “Use your words, kitten.”

“'Pet’ is a nice name in my opinion,” Hongjoong said, gripping your hip as he bottomed up into you.

“Darling is prettiest,” San said, “Much more endearing.”

“Kitten,” Seonghwa proclaimed, “Kitten is much sweeter. It suits her.”

There they named you. You are their property now, and you had no say. Eventually, the three of them finished and collapsed onto the bed together with you in the middle. The softness of the bed became particularly noticeable once you melted into it. The scent of sweat and sex filled your nose, and a distinct chill fell over your naked body. Your eyes falling shut, you relished in the gentle hands and lips on various parts of you. Their comforting touches lulled you to sleep, you barely listening to their sweet whispers. Whether they spoke to one another or to you, you weren't sure.

You only enjoyed the sweet peace sleep gave you.

***

A/N: just a short horny fic for all of you! I might make it a series, I might not. I have a habit of making these things lol please like and reblog <3

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #choi san #hongjoong ateez #seonghwa ateez #san ateez #demon line ateez #demon line x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #san x reader #hongjoong x seonghwa x san #ateez smut

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 9 months ago

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✨Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x f!sinner reader Smut Masterlist✨

I thought it would be a good idea to put all of my short stories (and headcanons) for our favorite Short King in one post so they can be easily found! This will be updated if or when I write more! Thanks for all the love on these btw, I never expected this much engagement for a genre I’ve never written about, I appreciate all of you 😭💖

Headcanons

Lucifer Morningstar NSFW Headcanons

Lucifer Morningstar NSFW Alphabet

One Shots

His Queen

Opening Up

Sensitivity

Desperation

Feathers

Pretty Boy

Lucifer in Lingerie artwork by the lovely @yuckypuppie

Dress Up, Part 1: The Proposal

The Engagement Ring artwork by the lovely @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis

Teasing Lucifer artwork by the lovely @bat-boness

Dress Up, Part 2: The Ceremony

Lucifer and OC Cuddling Scene artwork by the lovely @sora-712

Lucifer and Husk at the bar artwork by the lovely @luci-lover-forever

Lucifer and OC Wedding Attire artwork by the lovely @sora-712

Kiss the Bride artwork by the lovely @yourlocalcryptidbee

Lucifer Wedding Attire artwork by the lovely @bat-boness

Dress Up, Part 3: The Honeymoon

Double Trouble artwork by the lovely @sora-712

Triple Trouble artwork by the lovely @sora-712

Dress Up, Part 4: The Anniversary

Meeting with Asmodeus artwork by the lovely @luci-lover-forever

Bucking Bronco based on this Cowboy Lucifer art by the lovely @bat-boness

Behind (Not So) Closed Doors

Lead Us Into Temptation

Snake Tongue artwork by the lovely @sora-712

Falling For You (Again) - Lucifer x f!fallen angel reader

His Forbidden Fruit - Angel!Lucifer x f!Huamn Reader

Angel Lucifer artwork by the lovely @the-other-soup

Lucifer and The First Woman artwork by the lovely @sora-712

All Dolled Up

These one shots are all on my AO3 account too!

My Ko-Fi

Asks/Drabbles

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (short dialogue segments) - NSFW

Cowgirl Imp OC artwork by the lovely @fluffypinkpillows

Lucifer w/ reader who's never received oral before - NSFW

Full Body Length Mirror - NSFW

Lucifer w/ an ace/sex repulsed reader - NSFW

Lucifer w/ a virgin reader - NSFW

Foreplay w/ Lucifer - NSFW

Reader catching Lucifer touching himself to them - See "Behind (Not So) Closed Doors" for a full short story - NSFW

Lucifer w/ a devout reader (corruption kink) - See "Lead Us Into Temptation" for a full short story - NSFW

Lucifer loves reader's laugh - SFW

Lucifer w/ a shy s/o who has a hard time taking compliments - SFW

Lucifer w/ a bigger s/o - NSFW

Lucifer w/ reader who isn't as ready as previously thought - NSFW

Lucifer and the love languages- SFW

Lucifer w/ an s/o with scars - SFW

Lucifer doesn’t know he’s on a date - SFW

Lucifer in a rut - NSFW

Lucifer loses his s/o in an accident- Angst

Lucifer x reader in heat - NFSW

Lucifer x reader in his penthouse - NSFW

Lucifer tries to hide his demonic traits -Hurt/Comfort (slightly spicy)

Lucifer x reader dry humping/thigh rubbing - NSFW

Lucifer turns cockwarming against you - NSFW

Lucifer x virgin reader - Loving One Night Stand -NSFW/Slight Angst

Lucifer x Reader - Markings - NSFW

Lucifer x Insecure!Reader - NSFW

Lucifer x Reader - Sleep Talking - NSFW

Lucifer x Reader - Impatient - NSFW

Lucifer x Reader - Chains - NSFW

Needy Lucifer x Reader - Morning Routine - NSFW

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #my writing #masterlist #ao3 #thank you guys 💖

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fanaticsnail · 1 year ago

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Snail Navigation Masterlist

Hello and welcome, I'm Snail!

I write mainly "x reader" for the One-Piece fandom, all catalogued below the cut in a series of individual masterlists. Some of my work is NSFW, meant for 18+, so please minors do not interact.

I hope you enjoy your time on this page. It is an absolute pleasure carving out worlds that you get to be placed in the middle of.

Commissions: Open.

Request: Temporarily closed.

Gift Swapping: Temporarily closed.

Tobiuo: One Piece Original Character: Heart Pirate Security Chief.

Chains & Gallows: One Piece Original Characters: Death Janitors of the universe.

Pirate Snail: Gift by @/remisloves @/torao-chan. I love this snail, and I love the beautiful person who made it for me.

Divider Links: waves, 18+ by @/firefly-graphics

I have divided up my large collection of fics and drabbles into their own categories. Each fic has a description within their own Masterlist, including content warnings should minors be present. I hope you enjoy your time exploring my writing, and happy reading!

Straw-Hat Masterlist

Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Brook, & platonic crew

Heart-Pirate Masterlist

Law, Shachi, Penguin, & platonic crew

Kid-Pirate Masterlist

Kid, Killer, Heat, Wire, & platonic crew

Red-Hair Pirate Masterlist

Shanks, Beckman

Donquixote Masterlist

Doflamingo, Rosinante / Corazon, Caesar Clown

Cross-Guild Masterlist

Sir Crocodile, Dracule Mihawk, Buggy

Misc & Marines Masterlist

Koby, Helmeppo, Sabo, Kuzan, Bogard, Garp, Katakuri, Marco, Zeff

Drabbles Masterlist

Shorter fics for light reading

Pollen Masterlist (NSFW 18+)

Dust from the lust-plant burrows into the lungs of all that inhale it, prompting desperate and primal urges to eclipse their natural senses. All that inhale the pollen need aid in navigating through their urges, some urges stronger than others.

Dreaming of You Masterlist (NSFW 18+)

They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. NSFW, mdni, 18+

Dance Series Masterlist

A series of one-shots where you, the reader, get to dance with your favourites. Written with a f!reader in mind, but can be read gn.

Yandere Masterlist

To love so much it makes you sick with blind devotion and intense infatuation. Sweet, caring, and innocent before switching into someone who displays an extreme, often violent or psychotic, level of devotion to a love interest. You are that special person, and they will stop at nothing to make you theirs, and keep you close.

The Kissing Booth

A selection of kisses with you as the blindfolded recipient.

2024 Birthday Event (NSFW 18+)

Drawing Masterlist: One Piece Original Characters

WIP List: My works in progress.

Fic Recommendations: a collection of works I find myself returning to, written by some beautiful authors.

Glimpses: parts of my life I share.

Art with my fics: short dialogue

Fic Inspo: mood boards, clips and prompts for all to use.

Ko-Fi: If you feel so inclined to support me as I keep creating works, this is a link to enable that should you so desire.

Side blog: @sultrysnail for content away from One Piece

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brummiereader · 6 months ago

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Uptown Girl

(Masterlist)

Summary: A woman from high society, never needing or wanting for anything. Your world of jewels and silk gowns comes crashing down around you when your father's mounting gambling debts catch up with him, and he is forced to relinquish your home Arrow House before his untimely death to his biggest creditor, Tommy Shelby. But with your name on the deeds, and the land of your childhood home your only bargaining source of income to escape the union arranged since your birth to a monster of a man from your own class. You make your intentions of staying put stubbornly known to the Birmingham gang leader, as you clutch to your only remaining hope of freedom from the inevitable chains of a violent marriage. With neither one of you willing to budge on the matter until the iron clad documents of Arrow House are reviewed, you are both begrudgingly left without any other choice but to live together. What will become of your unusual living situation with the notorious gangster, and the arranged marriage you want to be free from? A way out, friendship, lust...love? One thing is certain. Tommy Shelby's abrupt appearance into your life will open your curious eyes to a whole other world that had been shielded from you since the day of your noble birth.

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, mutual pining, smut, domestic violence, mentions of suicide, violence

Authors Note: I basically took Alfie's passing statement of how Tommy acquired Arrow House and the trope "One bed, two people" and turned it into "One house, two strangers" and ran with it! The idea for this series and it's storyline, is loosely based off the lyrics to the well known song "Uptown Girl" by Billy Joel.

Teaser Trailer

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine (completed series)

Gif credit: @mushroomseb. Go check out their wonderful works of art!

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daycourtofficial · 7 months ago

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Gingerfucker - Eris x Rhys’s Sister!reader Masterlist

Banner by @milswrites | Note: these are in chronological order by content, not by posting date. This is an ongoing series and will be updated.

Summary: no one is more surprised than Eris Vanserra to find that he is capable of much more than just political ambition

Some art of the babies: (Nyx and Atlas) (All the gingersnaps) (Atlas and Leif) (Atlas) (the family)

Art by @dawneternal: Eris during the events of Cold was the steel of my axe to grind, portraits of the gingersnaps, art of Eris and Atlas

Gingerfucker week 2024 blurbs

Moodboard

It’s just to satiate the bond - an agreement to have sex just to satiate a mating bond neither party wants is a great idea. Surely no one will get hurt, right?

One single thread of gold tied me to you* - Eris accepts the mating bond and is incredibly touched by the effort you put into cooking him the meal from scratch

All’s well that ends well to end up with you - fears and doubts cause you and Eris to do your first irrational act together: a secret mating bond ceremony

I am ash from your fire - Surprising Eris one evening, you’ve turned up in the dead of night to let him know that your brother had figured out your secret relationship, offering you an ultimatum.

Cold was the steel of my axe to grind - centuries of plotting and scheming come to a head when his mate unexpectedly arrives in Autumn and Eris is desperate to set his plans in motion, least she become a piece for Beron to use against him

Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons - Eris leaves his mate alone in the Forest House, telling her to trust no one but his mother. The two women are ill-equipped to provide frontline fighting, but surely they can help Eris in their own way. *companion piece to ‘Cold was the steel of my axe to grind’

Hell was the journey but it brought me Heaven - in the immediate aftermath of Beron’s death and the thrum of power in his veins, Eris’s mate forces him to, at the bare minimum, bathe

Secret exchanges - a few weeks after the aftermath of Rhys’s banishment, your mate, the new High Lord of the Autumn Court, has a secret meeting with someone from your family.

Blood moon in Autumn - fae cycles are no joke, but your mate is always there to provide you comfort in the best way possible: by being your personal heating pad

Have I found you, flightless bird? - a reflection of a life of secrets and expectations and how, despite it all, a flightless bird found home in an unlikely place

Ferocious beasts with soft bellies - Eris’s hounds know you’re pregnant before either of you do, driving the two of you wild with their newfound devotion to you.

Starfall in Autumn - based on the prompt for Starfall week “characters a and b realize they won’t make it to Starfall. They make the most of what they have to celebrate”

Laborious anxieties - Eris is riddled with anxiety leading up to your labor, but what happens when some of his worst fears come to fruition?

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed - your relationship with Rhysand had been icy at best, but your attempts to reconcile are quick to be shot down. A rash decision leads you to endangering your life - can Eris find you in time? Can he save your infant son?

Amber eyes, looking into mine - Eris finds something in his study that triggers him into a frozen state of panic. Who better suited to pulling Eris from his past than his future?

We started alone, in the end we’re okay - on a rare night alone, Eris reflects on his long life and the lonely nights that haunted his youth. And how he’s a long way from the person he was and the person he had to be.

Fireling - every father’s dream is to be there the day his son first uses his powers. Luckily for Eris, he gets just that.

How the kingdom lights shine just for me and you - Eris tells his sons a story, letting them know how a strong knight defeated an evil dragon and saved the kingdom.

Loving parents, harmless fun - Modern!Gingerfucker - slice of life where Eris takes his family on a roadtrip and is only slightly annoyed at his son’s choice of car game

* = smut

#gingerfucker #acotar fanfiction #acotar writing #eris vanserra fanfic

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mrsshabana · 1 month ago

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𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅!𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 ⛧ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Everyone told stories of his kind, but you chose to ignore them. You got so used to how tame your werewolf boyfriend acted around you that you forgot how dangerous he is. But when a full moon rises, his instincts become undeniable, and you quickly learn what he's truly capable of. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, hunter/prey, size difference, forbidden romance ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.3k words

༺ Art ༻

⇢ Chapter two ⇢ Chapter three ⇢ Kinktober Masterlist

This is unusual behavior for your boyfriend. You haven't heard from him in days.

It's only been a couple of weeks that you've officially been his partner, but enough time has gone by that you feel like you know him enough to know this isn't normal.

Maybe that's just how werewolves are? You've never gotten close to a monster before, let alone a species that has a reputation for being dangerous to humans. But you never cared, you started having feelings for Gyutaro after the first time you met him. Everyone talks about how dangerous his kind is. But how could you resist those big fluffy ears, yellow golden eyes, and a mouth full of sharp teeth?

He may look like a big scary wolf, but around you, he acts like a golden retriever. Always so sweet and happy to be in your presence. All you have to do is walk into the room and his tail starts wagging.

He just can't help himself, you were the first person that didn't treat him like an outcast.

As Gyutaro got older he started to realize that he was destined to be alone. The chances of him finding a mate within his species were slim to none. A female would never accept him as a suitable partner due to his appearance. The spots on his face and body were something that no one was willing to pass on in their bloodline. It seemed like a silly concept to you, but for werewolves, these things are very important.

So when Gyutaro started having feelings for you he was more than happy to give your relationship a shot regardless of you being a human.

You never felt accepted by other humans, and he never felt accepted by other wolves. So when the two of you met it was like you finally found someone that understood you. However, both of you knew that your relationship was forbidden and would never be accepted, so you'd meet in secret.

He usually hangs out around your house after midnight, waiting for you so the two of you can disappear into the woods. Or at the very least, if the two of you aren't able to spend time together, he'll leave little gifts at your doorstep. Wildflowers, shiny rocks, or even the occasional dead rodent.

But it's been days since you've seen him or received any of his unusual gifts. It's like he just disappeared.

And now you're left a worried mess. He's never gone so long without speaking to you, it makes you think that maybe something happened to him.

In a last-ditch effort to find him, you search in the woods behind your house. Knowing that he loves running around and exploring there, it's the only place you might be able to find him at this time of night.

"Gyutaro!" you call out as you walk through the forest.

As you go deeper, you begin to hear what sounds like howling.

"That must be him!" you gasp, running towards the sound.

Once you get closer the howling stops and he picks up on your scent. Yellow eyes look back at you from within the trees.

"Gyu!" you smile and run towards him, "I was so worried about you!"

But he says nothing and just stares at you with wide eyes - panting like a stressed animal.

"Wh-what's going on...?" you say as you look at the strange scene before you.

Gyutaro has a chain attached to his collar and is tied to a large tree. It's sad to see him chained up like some kind of pet.

You can't tell if someone did this to him or if he did it to himself. There's no sign of anyone else, but you can't imagine why he would chain himself to a tree like that.

You reach out your hand and he immediately lunges forward with barred fangs. Looking like a feral stray as he snaps at you. But the chain chokes him, preventing him from getting to you.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" you mutter as your eyes begin to water.

Never have you seen him behave this way towards you. He's usually so gentle and sweet, you would have thought he wasn't capable of showing violence. However, at the end of the day, you know what he is and you should never forget what he's capable of.

And that's when you notice it. The full moon peeking from above the trees. How could you have been so naive?

Gyutaro must've chained himself up to protect you, knowing that he'd go feral on a full moon... and who knows what he may do to you.

Your stomach drops and your blood runs cold. Looking down at Gyutaro as he snarls and claws at the dirt, trying to get to you. You don't want to imagine what he will do to you if he breaks loose. He has a wild look in his eye, unlike anything you've ever seen before and it strikes fear into you.

You can hear the metal of the chain bending, it will snap any moment now.

You don't have any time to think about your boyfriend, this thing is no longer your boyfriend. For all you know, he could kill you if he gets loose.

Run. Run. Run. That's all you can think about as your fight or flight response kicks in. And you're sprinting deeper into the forest before you even realize it.

The branches cutting your skin as you run through the trees don't even bother you. You just need to get away from him.

After running what you consider to be a good distance, you look back to see that Gyutaro is gone and the chain lies snapped on the ground.

"Shit," you curse under your breath, realizing the danger that you're in. You have no other option but to keep running, and running, and running until you can't feel your feet anymore and your lungs burn.

A twig snaps, and you instantly turn to see those beautiful yellow eyes looking back at you. Stalking you like prey.

It only makes things worse when you run, causing his hunting instincts to kick in even more. In his eyes he no longer sees his girlfriend, all he sees is prey.

You cry and sob as he chases you, knowing that it won't be long until he catches up to you. And you're right, he quickly pounces on you. Trapping you beneath his large muscular body, looking down at you with hunger in his eyes. The size difference alone is enough to make you freeze with fear. It never dawned on you just how much larger he is than you. And as you lay there helplessly pinned beneath him you realize just how terrifying a seven-foot-tall werewolf can be.

"G-Gyutaro, please!" you sob, "It's me, Y/N! I'm your girlfriend, remember?" You desperately try to remind him of who you are, make him remember that he would never hurt his precious girlfriend.

But he doesn't remember, and even if he did he wouldn't care. Because the full moon makes him go feral and blindly follow his instincts.

From this angle, he no longer looks like your boyfriend. He looks like a monster. The monster that everyone said he was, but you never listened. Maybe if you did you wouldn't be in this situation right now.

Drool drips down his chin as he snarls, showing off his mouth full of razor-sharp teeth that could easily wrap around your pretty little neck. He breathes heavily, panting as the fur on the back of his neck stands on end. He looks like he wants to devour you, but he doesn't.

For a moment you're confused. But then you see it.

The erection between his legs - so painfully hard that it's ripping the seams of his pants.

You thought that he wanted to eat you, but you were wrong. He wants to breed you.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyuutarou #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyuutarou x reader #gyutaro smut #gyutaro fanart #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny smut #demon slayer smut #kinktober #kinktober 2024

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starcrossed-lov3rz · 5 months ago

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An Equal

Feyd Rahtha x Fem!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, some violence (not very graphic), there is a moment where reader is touched without express consent (NOT FEYD THO)

Words: ~ 1.1K

Description: Feyd sees you as an exotic pet. Something to collect. Something to brag about. Until, one day, he finds out about human’s lethality. Being almost killed by you in a fit of rage, he realizes that you are not just an alien. You love him. - Based on this request

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“I feel like a fucking zoo exhibit.” You mutter, pulling at the ridiculous assortment of jewels and silks draped across your body. Zoo exhibit didn’t even remotely describe it….you were more like a piece of art on display.

Every day, Feyd sent a darling to your rooms with the clothing he picked for you. They ranged from intricate to barely-there wisps of gauzy fabric. But today? He’d really outdone himself today. A silk skirt hung low on your hips, and the matching bra fit like a glove. A sheer shawl draped crossed your shoulders. Feyd spared no expense with jewels today. Delicate gold chains wound around your exposed waist. Your arms decorated in gold bands.

“You look beautiful,” Feyd’s darling praised. “He will be pleased.”

You roll your eyes as the darling coils your hair into a loose updo. Of course Feyd would be pleased. His little pet is dolled up and ready to show off to every disgusting bureaucrat and diplomat here for the fight.

Feyd fought often, but you’d never seen him spar in the arena before. He insisted the darlings keep you away from the arena so he didn’t ‘break your weak earthling spirit’ too soon. You should be honored at how delicately Feyd treats you, given his awful temper and violent tendencies. You were anything but. It didn’t matter how often you tried to lash out and annoy him, Feyd always laughed at your antics.

“Come with me, he wants to see you before the fight.”

Numbly, you follow the darling as she guides you through the maze of hallways.

“My darlings,” Feyd greets you both. He’s standing amongst a group of diplomats, towering over most of them.

“Is this her?!” One of the more brazen diplomats steps forward, examining you like some prized show animal. You grit your teeth in annoyance as he pokes and prods you, hands lingering suspiciously long. Looking to Feyd, it’s clear you’re not the only one upset with the display. Feyd’s eyes are glued to where the diplomat’s hands rest on your hip.

You roll your eyes, batting his hand away and moving to stand beside Feyd. “Where’s your leash, pet?” He asks, tilting your head up with a hand on your chin. Feyd’s fingers trail down your throat, toying with your delicate gold necklace.

“I left it next to yours,” you offer dryly.

Feyd’s smirk dims, his hand instantly moving to grip your neck. The pressure is noticeable, but nowhere near the strength you know Feyd is capable of. “Watch your tongue, pet.”

Sarcasm probably wasn’t the best move today. Normally, you would shy away from any behavior that could irritate Feyd. Not today. The lack of autonomy was wearing on you, slowly stripping whatever sense of self preservation you had left. Your eyes flick up to Feyd’s, choosing to stare him down rather than respond.

The world melts away as you both refuse to back down from the silent challenge. The same diplomat from before breaks the tension. He bows quickly before addressing Feyd. “na-Baron, you were telling us earlier how well your earthling can play the baliset, I believe as our most gracious host that you should offer us so entertainme-”

“No.”

You fight the urge to react, but you’re just as shocked as the diplomat. Feyd frequently made you perform for guests.

“But, na-Baron-”

“No,” Feyd said. “The fight will begin soon. That will be entertainment enough.”

Of course. Feyd wasn’t refusing because the diplomat had mistreated you earlier. He just didn’t want to delay his precious fucking fight. You step back out of Feyd’s reach. “You should go prepare for your fight, na-Baron.”

“You wound me,” Feyd smirks. “Are you not going to wish me well for this fight?”

“I believe the drugged slaves in the arena are luck enough, na-Baron.” Now you’re definitely playing with fire. Feyd’s fists clench and he reaches for the knife sheathed on his thigh.

You brace yourself. This is it. You just couldn’t be satisfied with pretty dresses and Feyd’s condescending affection. The novelty has worn off, and he’s going to kill you. You shut your eyes, waiting for a blow that never comes. Instead, you hear the knife clatter against the floor.

“Pick it up.” Feyd orders.

“What-”

“Pick it up.”

“I-”

“Pick it up or you will take my place fighting those ‘drugged slaves’ in the arena.” Feyd’s tone is even, no hint of humor or whatever passes as a sick joke for him.

You crouch slowly, your face heating in anger and shame as you hear laughs from the group of guests.

“na-Baron, she would be better suited as a prize for the victor.” Your hand tightens around the handle, and you see red. You recognize that voice. The disgusting diplomat. With the wandering hands.

Trying to calm down, you force yourself to breathe evenly. Feyd’s eyes never drift away from you, his calculating stare watching your every move. As you straight up, you feel a hand grope your ass. “Let me take her place in the arena, na-Baron. I should have her cunt as a reward when I win.”

You snap, letting instinct and rage take over. Pivoting your stance, you drive Feyd’s knife into the stomach of the diplomat behind you. His hand drops from you as he screams in pain. “You bit-”

Feyd is silent. He hasn’t moved a muscle to help his guest.

The diplomat scrambles back, tripping over his robes and falling to the ground. You can hear screaming from the onlookers, but everything sounds as if it’s underwater. You drop on top of the diplomat, stabbing him again and again. You let it all out. The anger. The frustration. The embarrassment. You pour everything you’ve bottled up from months of captivity into every stab.

The knife slips from your hand, dropping to the floor.

Your gaze focuses again.

He’s dead.

You look up.

Everyone but Feyd has fled.

He’s leaning against a pillar. Arms crossed as he watches the display with an unreadable expression.

Feyd pushes off of the pillar, walking towards you. He kneels beside you, picking the blade up and offering it to you.

“Keep it.”

You laugh through the tears. Somehow those two words meant more to you than all the empty praise and gifts. In that moment, you're more than some pampered pet.

An equal.

NOTE: Two uploads in two days? Is this Christmas? No, it's a request I finally completed!!! Sorry, no smut here! I was really feeling this prompt and it didn't organically develop into smut. Serious writing isn't something I normally do, so I hope it did your prompt justice!! ~ Lacie <3

Want to be added to a taglist? Click HERE!

#dune #dune part two #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #dune fanfiction #feyd x you #reader insert

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saradika · 1 year ago

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Aesthetic Dividers for Fics & Masterlists

edit: as of 11/20/23 this will no longer be updated - please go to @saradika-graphics for requests & new resources!

AESTHETIC - CELESTIAL

— Stars & Space | Sun

— Stars & Space | Moon

— Stars & Space | Planets

— Stars & Space | Purple

AESTHETIC - FLORAL

— Bees/Honey/Flowers

— Cherry Blossom / Peach

— Dark Romantic Florals

— Daisies

— Fall Florals

— Cute Flowers

— Pastel Floral

— Pastel Green & Blue Florals / Navy Blue

— Red Poppies

— Roses/Chains / Gothic Roses

— Sunflowers

AESTHETIC - HEARTS

— Black Hearts

— Hearts

— Heartbeat Dividers

— Lilac Hearts

— Pastel Blue Hearts

AESTHETIC - OTHER

— 50’s Neon Diner

— Art Deco (Blue Version)

— Beige Daggers

— Black and Grey

— Black & Red Grunge

— Blue & Yellow Dividers

— Blue & Orange Feathers

— Christmas & Winter

— Citrus

— Cottagecore / Dark Academia

— Cowboy (part ii) (dark) (space)

— Cute Pastel

— Ghostface

— Halloween

— Maroon & Purple

— Mothman

— Ocean | Part ii

— Orange & Green Dividers

— Pale Pink Dividers

— Pink/Coquette

— Pizza/Spaghetti

— Purple, Pink & Blue Dividers

— Rain/Storm

— Ravens/Moons/Roses

— Red/Black Scroll Work

— Red & Yellow Dividers

— Smutty | Pastel

— Taylor Swift (Folklore)

— Vampires

— Warm Grey Dividers

— Werewolves

— Windows/Webcore

FANDOM

— Across the Spider-Verse | Hobie

— Alice in Wonderland

— Boba Fett (Star Wars)

— Clone Trooper/Star Wars

— Fennec Shand

— FNAF

— Lightsabers (Star Wars) / Part 2

— Silmarillion/Tolkien & Lord of the Rings

— Sith-Inspired Dividers (Star Wars)

— Stardew Valley | Part ii

✨(Everything was made in and using Canva - so definitely check that app out if you’re looking to make your own! Here, here, here and here are some tips on using the app / making graphics if you haven’t before!) (and credit is not required but a reblog would be great if you use! 💕) ✨

#dividers #fic dividers #tumblr dividers #graphics #line dividers #aesthetic dividers #saradika’s graphics

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igot-the-juice · 25 days ago

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Blood of A Rose - Part 2 (Art the Clown x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Summary - Following the events of their night together, (y/n) and Art explore their dynamics together to form a perfect duet of blood and beauty.

Notes - Was requested to expand on the relationship between Art and the reader and will happily oblige! It’s honestly so fun to write Art’s character, I hate how little there is out there for him. My man needs attention.

P.S - Might branch this into a series of one shots showing their relationship more and whatnot either from my own ideas or requests from you guys for what you’d like to see with them. Hell, might even make a whole blog based on them. Thoughts?

Word Count - 4,091

Warning(s) - Blood, gore, violence, morally ambiguous reader

Song Inspiration -

Cody Frost - Process

Screams were heard all around them, piercing and agonizing. Everything was set ablaze, yet she felt no heat. She felt no pain. Even as the smoke clouded, she could breathe without struggle. (Y/n) craned her neck to look up at the clown before her, eyes wide with wonder, with trust. Her life was in the hands of a murderer and yet she felt safe. She felt protected.

His usual grin did not show, yet he didn’t frown. His face remained neutral while his eyes said it all, filled with an untamed obsession, possessiveness and dare she say adoration. His gloved hands rose to her jaw, cupping it delicately as he guided her to train her eyes on him, to ignore all that happened around them. As she stared up at him, her hands came to rest over his own, and with a look of his eyes she was told -

He would be her past, present and future.

(Y/n)’s eyes fluttered open, greeted by the soft light of the moon that peaked through the boards of the window. The colder air bit at her skin through her sweater and she shivered.

She sat up and looked around curiously, seeing that she was now in the makeshift bedroom from before. She then looked down and saw that she was on the mattress, however a tattered blanket now lay on top of it beneath her, shielding her from whatever mold and rot had been on it.

Her legs closed when she felt a light breeze brush against the tear in her pantyhose, heightening the chill. (Y/n) stretched her arms out and stood, then heard what sounded like someone hammering from a different room. Her mind raced with the events of what she assumed was still the same night. Her face burned, stomach fluttering as the ghost of Art’s caress tickled her skin.

She took a deep breath and left the room, quietly making her way to where the sound came from. Mindful of the debris on the floor as she grew near, she entered the room with the workbench, Art hunched over it on the stool as he hammered away at something.

When (y/n) stepped closer he paused. Her breath stilled as his head slowly turned to the side, yet not over his shoulder to look at her, letting her know that he knew she was there.

Once he returned to work she released the breath she held and made her way over to him, seeing as he hammered a screw-eye hook of sorts into the end of a chair leg.

His face was focused, not smiling or putting on his usual dramatics as he worked. It felt strange to her, seeing him this way. It reminded her that even if he was a murderer he wasn’t excused from putting in the work to make it happen, whether it was a hobby of his or not. It reminded her that he still had interests and needs just as everyone else. It was oddly humanizing and she couldn’t help but feel privileged to see him in such a state.

He motioned to a nearby corner and (y/n) turned to see another stool placed there, then moved to bring it over and sat on top of it to continue to watch him. He then motioned to her - conversing as he worked - then symbolized sleep as if to ask how she slept, then proceeded to pick up an average sized chain.

“It was actually quite nice. Best sleep I’ve had in a while.”

With chain in hand, he clapped excitedly, happy with her response. He hooked it to the screw, bending and twisting the metal to make sure it was secure as (y/n) watched casually, as if it was just another day.

“Is it… Is it still the same night?”

He shook his head and her eyes widened. Art turned to see it and began to laugh to himself.

“How long has it been?”

He held up a finger after his laughing fit died down, going back to his work.

“One day…? But how?”

He nodded and glanced over at her, watching as she looked down, growing more and more confused. He patted her shoulder and she looked up at him, seeing him point to himself, then her.

“Because of you?” Her brow furrowed, then her expression changed as she chuckled. “Are you saying I slept for so long because of what we did?”

Art shrugged and made a cheeky expression, but she became confused again when he then shook his head. He motioned to himself again, then pointed to her head.

“You… forced me to stay asleep?” He eagerly nodded, smiling and pointing at her to say she got it. “But how? Did you knock me out?” His head shook. “Did you drug me?”

His head shook again and he rolled his eyes, arms falling to his sides in exasperation. He then motioned to his entire body, pointed to his head with both fingers, then to her head again.

“You were in my head…?” He nodded and clapped. “How is that even possible?”

Art shrugged dramatically with a mischievous smile. (Y/n) paused and slowly met his eyes.

“The dream…?” She asked, and in the back of her head she already knew the answer.

The clown only solidified it with a raise of his eyebrows, mouth forming an ‘o’ and shrugging as an ‘oops’. (Y/n) could only laugh, not knowing how exactly to react to someone with such supposed supernatural abilities.

She wasn’t sure if she had finally grown to become insane or if it was all a hallucination, all in her head. But as she thought to the night before she found that it all felt too real, too vivid to be fake.

(Y/n) suddenly felt exposed and crossed one leg over the other, tugging down the skirt of her dress as her face grew warm. Art looked over at her, face twisting into mischief as his eyes squinted with his smile. He wiggled his eyebrows when she looked at him and she turned her face away bashfully.

He reached over to grasp her chin, coaxing her to look back at him. He nudged his head in her direction, grinning to encourage her to do the same. Once her smile returned and she giggled, he playfully booped her nose and turned back to his workbench, his smile now remaining on his dramatized face as he worked.

The minutes seemed to drag on as he worked, but not once was she bored. She watched eagerly, fixated as his hands toyed and shaped the weapon he was creating. His actions were all well thought out and deliberate, masculine yet graceful as his fingers caressed the wood and metal.

Deeming the weapon satisfactory, he raised it by the handle - the chair leg - and examined it carefully. Three chains hung from the screw-eye, knife tips, nails and spikes decorating the length of them.

“Is that a flail?” (Y/n) gasped.

Art’s head whipped over to look at her and patted her thigh, the hand holding the weapon shaking excitedly as he nodded. He watched as she eyed his new creation, then an idea formed in his head. His gaze shifted to look over at her, now smiling sadistically. She caught the change in his expression and she began to smile, catching on to what he was thinking.

“I’ll get the camera!” She hopped off of the stool.

After some convincing from her end, they stopped by her house for her to quickly change into something more comfortable. It wasn’t until she began to beg sweetly that he finally agreed, unable to say no to her more innocent nature, regardless of her interests.

Not a person was in sight as they were shielded by the dark of the night, hardly any street lamps in the area they currently wandered.

“Does the bag ever get heavy for you?” (Y/n) asked as they walked through the ghosted roads.

Art shook his head, using his other arm to exaggerate flexing his muscles and she laughed.

“I bet that bag is the reason you’re so strong, lugging it around everywhere and all.” He waved her off at the compliment and tickled her ear with his finger. “I’m serious! You make it look like it weighs nothing.”

As they walked, they began to see the edge of the town ahead of them. Or rather, Art saw it. (Y/n) was too focused on the clown beside her, taking in all of his features under the starry night, the moon perfectly accentuating every curvature and jagged edge, every -

She was suddenly yanked to the side of the sidewalk he walked on and she gasped, looking over to see a pole that she nearly walked straight into. She looked back over at Art who had a hand on his hip with a frown. He pointed at her, his eyes, then the direction they were walking in.

“Sorry…” She giggled as she blushed, nervously fiddling with the camera hanging around her neck.

He pulled back his arm and reached for her, pulling her to stand on the opposite side where he was previously walking to prevent it from happening again. He motioned for her to continue walking, rolling his eyes from behind her before he set his pace next to her again.

As they reached the town, Art began to look around carefully, more alert in the brighter area while (y/n) had a mind of her own. While he kept an eye out for his next victim, she focused on finding her next inspiration. She supposed they went hand in hand, but she was never one to strive for the bare minimum.

He then paused, holding his arm out for her to do the same, knowing she very well would’ve kept on walking. Hearing the voices of what seemed to be a couple arguing, he listened carefully to find where they came from.

Then he spotted them.

A man and woman arguing next to a car. The man was halfway in the driver’s seat while the woman stood next to it, flailing her arms.

Art then heard a shutter sound from beside him, slowly looking over to see (y/n) holding her camera up, taking photos of the argument before them. She looked over at him and shrugged innocently.

She put down the camera and the two of them watched the pursuing argument, equally invested in the exchange. The man then slammed the car door shut.

“They just broke up for sure.” (Y/n) whispered to Art and he looked down at her with a widespread grin, wiggling his eyebrows then nodding towards the woman who was now making her way into what seemed to be her villa.

Art crossed the street, making his way over with (y/n) in tow and walking up the small set of stairs leading to the front door. He looked down at her, then turned to the door in front of them and tested the door knob, unsurprisingly finding it locked.

He gave (y/n) a ‘wait’ signal and set down his bag, cracking his neck and stretching his arms out in front of him with linked fingers. Art then gave her a side smile, then suddenly kicked the door open. She froze with wide eyes, yet her stomach betrayed her as it flipped at his show of masked strength.

He picked up his bag again and grabbed her wrist to pull her inside with him, closing the door behind them. Footsteps quickly descended the staircase in front of them and they looked up to see the same woman from before, chest heaving in fear at the sight before her.

While (y/n) quickly snapped a photo of her expression, Art dropped his bag again and wiggled his fingers at her in a wave with a menacing smile. He then held up a finger to her and began to look through his bag as the woman remained frozen like a deer in the headlights, watching as he pulled out a scalpel and the new flail. He turned to (y/n) and raised his eyebrows, then bolted upstairs after the woman who fled.

As they thumped around upstairs, she began to explore the villa, looking for things to use in her next piece. The woman’s screams and shrieks were muffled behind the door of the room they were in and were drowned out, inevitably useless.

(Y/n) eyed a smaller box TV that sat on an entertainment stand in the living room, an idea popping into her head. She walked over to it and unplugged it in preparation, resuming her wandering when the noise above her suddenly stopped.

She heard a door open upstairs followed by footsteps descending the staircase. (Y/n) looked towards it, seeing a now bloodied Art giving her the ‘ok’ to go upstairs when she was ready.

“Could you do me a huge favor?” She asked as he made his way over to her, shaking off the blood on his hands and nodding. “Could you help take the TV upstairs for me? I want to use it as the head.”

Art made a surprised expression, clapping his hands giddily at the idea. He then paused with a finger up, making a sawing motion and asked for her to wait a moment, disappearing upstairs. Not long after, he returned with his saw and put it back in his bag, happily walking over to the TV and tipping his hat at (y/n) when he walked by. He then picked it up as if it was nothing but a feather and made his way back upstairs, (y/n) following closely behind as she giggled.

They entered the woman’s bedroom, her body splayed out on the bed with small to large chunks of her skin and fat missing, head nowhere to be found.

As he placed the TV where the woman’s head used to be, (y/n) admired the slashes left from the flail. Some were rather deep, others shallow. Their marks tore at the dress that the woman wore, some simulating claw marks while other areas were simply shredded.

“Could you move the arms to look like this?” (Y/n) posed her own arms to grab the sides of her head. Art carefully took note of the angle and position, then moved the victim’s arms to reflect it. “Perfect.” (Y/n) smiled, looking up at the ceiling to see LED lights lined along the edge.

Art watched as she wandered to find the remote, smiling to herself once she found it and changed the color to red and turned off the main light. She looked around the floor, watching for anything she could trip on before lifting a foot onto the bed.

Art’s face twisted into panic and his hands shook, stepping next to her and helping her up onto the bed.

“Thank you.” She responded softly, one of his hands still holding her waist to help steady her as she readied her camera. He followed her as she captured different angles, some standing while others she crouched.

(Y/n) took his hand to help herself down, smiling up at him as he grinned at her excitedly. Just as the night before, she flipped through the pictures she took, and just the same, she felt his closeness.

The only difference was rather than nerves, she felt relaxed. She felt calm and comfortable despite the mess around them that he caused. His hand that rested on her far shoulder radiated heat through her layers of clothing and she subconsciously leaned into him, head pressed against his chest while he pointed at the photos he favored.

His silent presence, twisted grin plastered on his painted face, drew her in like a moth to flame. (Y/n) found herself unable to refuse, an invisible pull guiding her to him.

At first, their following encounters were just a few hours in the night together. Art would appear when (y/n) least expected, showing up at odd hours, his silent insistence drawing her out into the dark. However, she began to notice her sleeping pattern slowly change. She grew more tired sooner, falling asleep earlier and earlier, waking up in a strange nocturnal rhythm.

At night, she would wake to find him waiting, patient but always silent, eager to lead her deeper into his world. (Y/n), feeling a strange sense of peace in his presence, began to follow him without question. And after only a few weeks of their odd relationship, she began to grow used to it. Comfortable with it. Comfortable with him.

“Hey, Art.” (Y/n) greeted him as she yawned, fresh out of bed to find him rummaging through her kitchen.

He looked up at her and waved, a widespread grin bringing out her own smile in her vulnerable, post-dream state. He gushed at the sight, elbows resting on the countertop with his chin in his hands, blinking dreamily at her as she walked over to him with her arms out.

Art popped up, engulfing her in his arms as she sighed happily at the feeling. He rocked the two of them slowly, the rhythm almost putting her back to sleep.

Slowly, (Y/n)’s life became consumed by Art. The gruesome art pieces she crafted from his handiwork grew bolder, more disturbing, as if the dark side of her creativity was being unleashed by his influence.

In her dreams, she would see him. His painted face looming over her, silent but omnipresent. At first, the dreams were disorienting. But over time, they became comforting. She would wake, feeling a strange longing for him, for the connection they shared in the darkest corners of her mind, weaving its way to the forefront.

As the days bled into nights, (y/n) found herself thinking of Art constantly. He was always there, even when he wasn’t physically present; a haunting figure in her thoughts. His silence, once goofy, became a form of comfort. She began to crave his presence, yearning for their time together.

And so (y/n) found herself growing dependent on him. Whether it was for her art or simply her attachment to him, how safe she felt with him. He understood her in a way no other person could, and she reciprocated.

The way he was so brutal and aggressive with others, yet gentle and thoughtful with herself only drew her closer to him. He treated others as nuisances, problems to deal with and get rid of while he treated her as delicately as the rose that brought them together. The contrast was endearing to her, and she couldn’t help but be entranced.

Though such treatment came with an undisclosed amount of protection and possessiveness, to which she learned rather quickly.

“It just came out wrong, I’m sorry!” (Y/n) giggled. Art mocked her, rolling his eyes as his mouth and hand mocked her talking. The culprit of such a fit?

She called his nose cute.

“Your nose is attractive, is what I meant. Believe me, you’re still as frightening as ever.”

He threw her a side eye, then dramatically sighed and waved it all off.

“Hey!” She stopped them in the middle of the sidewalk, a lit street lamp looming over them as they faced each other. “I’m sorry.” She gave him her best doe eyes, then stood up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

His grin slowly returned, hand coming over the top of where she kissed him and she giggled. He then took her hand in his own, continuing their nightly walk.

Later on, they heard slurred conversation ahead of them, seemingly male in nature. (Y/n) tried to slow their walk, but Art looked back at her and encouraged her to keep up with him. As they grew closer, they passed an alleyway that held a small group of drunks, hearing a whistle of a cat call.

The clown immediately stilled, and (y/n) quickly grew worried.

“Hey, where ya goin’ babes?” One of the men called, stepping out of the alleyway with a bottle in hand. “Not with the mime, I hope.”

Art and (y/n) slowly turned to face the man, their hands still interlocked as she gripped his tighter and stepped closer to him, practically hiding behind him like a scared child.

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you actually wanna be with the guy!”

“Ey, c’mon man, stop messin’ with them, she’s not worth it.” Another man stepped out, followed by a third to watch the scene play out. Art’s eyebrows furrowed in anger, twisted grin remaining as he set down his bag and quickly reached into it.

“Obviously not if -“ Two shots suddenly pierced through the night air, the second and third men collapsing to the ground while Art aimed a handgun at the first who initiated.

(Y/n)’s hold on his hand moved to his arm, clutching onto it as the bodies began to puddle with blood beneath them. She looked up at Art, his grin replaced with a frown and it sent a chill down her spine. She had only seen him genuinely angry maybe once or twice, and whatever followed was far from pleasant, to say the least.

“H-hey, I was just jokin’ man, I was just jokin’!” The drunk held up his hands in surrender, but the clown wasn’t buying it.

As he continued to ramble and apologize, begging for his life, Art kept the gun pointed at his head. He watched as the man slowly broke in front of him, growing increasingly desperate. Art’s grin then slowly reappeared, giving the man a glimmer of hope.

Then Art suddenly aimed at the man’s thigh and fired, doing the same to his other until he fell to his knees. Art tossed the gun into his bag and rummaged through it further, his face twisting into a sadistic expression when he pulled out a box cutter flashing it to the man as a tease before stalking over to him.

(Y/n) turned around, facing away from the chaos and gore as she plugged her ears to drown out the noise. Even still, the sound seeped through as the man struggled and cried out helplessly. His fight was futile compared to Art’s strength, and the latter simply ragdolled him as if the man was just a child.

When the noise stopped, she unplugged her ears and felt a hand pat her waist, turning to see Art wipe off his now bloodied hands. She turned to see his mess, and his face suddenly grew concerned when she pouted.

“I don’t have my camera.” (Y/n) nearly whined, and Art mimicked her frown.

At first, (y/n) resisted the growing dependency, confused by her attachment. But he began to seep into her thoughts with concerning frequency. The dreams became more vivid, more intimate, filled with his silent adoration as he twisted her perception of reality until he became the center of her world, the only constant in her life, planting seeds of affection until it became impossible to imagine her life without him.

His obsession with her only grew. He would stand over her while she slept during the day, watching her with an almost childlike fascination. When she woke, his silent attention made her feel adored, special. The way he looked at her, possessive yet affectionate. His presence was her comfort, his protection her shield.

Eventually, (y/n) could no longer distinguish where her own desires ended and his began. The thought of being apart from him was unbearable. She began to seek him out during the day when she should have been resting, desperate to be near him.

When they were together, it was a twisted dance of blood and beauty. A duet that no one else could understand. She would create art from his chaos, and he would watch her with silent adoration, the two of them locked in a world where only they existed.

They grew to share a dark, intimate bond. (Y/n), once a quiet and reserved artist, had become consumed by Art - both his work and his presence. He had molded her. And she, willingly or not, had come to love him for it.

As their connection deepened, (y/n) knew that she could never return to the life she had before. The darkness was too intoxicating, the bond too strong.

She belonged to him now, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

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moonsandmobilityaids · 2 months ago

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Secrets Revealed

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: Sometimes it's easier to walk. One problem-your boyfriends don't know you can. Warnings: Chronic pain, mentions of ableism (both internalised and external) Series Masterlist

The late afternoon sunlight filters into your room, casting a warm, golden hue over everything it touches. You're perched by the window, gazing out at the dwindling light, while James, Sirius, and Remus occupy various corners of your sanctuary.

James is sprawled on your bed, a book open before him. His glasses rest low on his nose, catching the glint of the dying sun as he flips through the pages nonchalantly, his ruffled hair fanning out across the pillow like a dark halo.

Sirius, meanwhile, has claimed the armchair by the fireplace, his long legs draped over one arm, hands clasped behind his head. His eyes are half-closed, the flickering flames reflecting in their depths, and there's a sense of contentment about him that seems almost tangible.

Remus sits at your desk, bent over his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, a quill poised between his fingers. Every so often, he makes a note in the margin, his brow furrowed in concentration.

The room is filled with the soft crackle of the fire, the rustle of turning pages, and the shared silence of companionship. This is your haven, and they are your pillars—each one a fixture in the landscape of your life.

Normally, their presence brings a sense of calm, a gentle reprieve from the storm of your thoughts. But tonight, the ache in your legs is louder than usual, the pain echoing through the silence between their words. The prospect of shifting from armchair to wheelchair, from wheelchair to bed, the clumsy dance of limbs and reliance on others, feels more daunting than ever.

Your gaze flickers to the sturdy frame of the bed—a few steps away, yet a chasm wide and deep in reality. And in that moment, you make a decision.

You will walk.

The distance is short. You've traversed it often when left alone with your thoughts and the stubbornness that threads through your veins. Yet each step is a battle, fought against the protests of your body and the remnants of pride clinging to your heart. It's a war you wage in private, away from prying eyes.

Until now.

Without a word, you lean forward, your muscles coiling like springs beneath your skin. Your hands grip the armrests, knuckles white as you push yourself upward. Pain flares up your legs, a stark reminder of the invisible chains that bind you. But you fight it, focusing on the strength in your arms, the determination fuelling each ragged breath.

The transition is slow, agonising. For a moment, you hover between two worlds—seated and standing, dependence and autonomy. Then, with a final surge of effort, you are upright. Your body sways, unsteady but defiant.

James's book falls from his hands, his eyes round with surprise as he surges upright. "What—Y/N, what are you doing?"

Sirius stiffens, the ease in his posture evaporating as he swings his legs off the bed and onto the floor. "Bloody hell, babe, sit down! You don't have to—"

"I'm fine," you interrupt, voice strained but steady. A step forward shrinks the distance between you and the bed. It's slow, shaky, but you trust in the familiarity of your own body's resilience. "I do this all the time."

"You what?" Remus is on his feet in an instant, moving toward you with a grace born of decades spent anticipating danger. His eyes are wide, the worry lines etched deeper into his forehead. He hovers, hands outstretched but not touching, as if afraid any contact might shatter the illusion of control you're so desperately clinging to. "Y/N, you've never—"

"Not in front of people," you clarify, your words punctuated by the effort it takes to lift your body another inch off the cold stone floor. Pain blossoms in your side, a reminder of the damage done, but you push past it, focusing on the familiar burn of used muscles and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. "It's easier when I'm alone. Less... fuss."

"Less fuss?" James echoes, his voice threaded with disbelief. "If you need help, you can just—"

"I'm not going to fall," you assure them, even as your breath hitches from the effort. One final push and you're sitting on the edge of the bed, relief flooding through you as the soft mattress gives way beneath you. But even then, you can feel their eyes on you—watchful, wary, a mix of concern and curiosity.

Sirius's hand rakes through his hair as he paces in front of you, his expression etched with worry. "Why didn't you tell us you could walk, even if it was just a little?"

James sits at your side, one hand resting over yours, warm and grounding. "We've been friends for years, Y/N," he says, his voice gentler than you've ever heard it. "And now we're more than that. You never mentioned anything about this—we could've helped."

You look from one face to another, seeing the concern etched on each one, feeling the weight of the moment press down on you. These aren't strangers who will judge or ridicule; these are the people who have come to mean everything to you. They look back at you now, eyes filled not only with affection but also confusion, a slight sting of betrayal.

Remus is there too, perched on the edge of your bed, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. "Why hide it from us?" His voice is soft, almost a whisper against the heavy silence. "You know we'd never think less of you, don't you?"

"It's not that," you say, your own voice just as quiet, your gaze shifting to Sirius who has stopped pacing and now stands with his arms crossed, his grey eyes burning into yours. "It's the way people look at me when they see me walking. Like I've been lying about needing the wheelchair. Like I'm some sort of... fraud."

James's grip on your hand tightens, not in anger but in silent solidarity. His brow furrows as he takes in your words, the implications hanging heavy in the air between you. "But we're not 'people,' sweetheart. You don't have to put up a front with us."

You nod, the heat of his hand seeping into yours, the rhythm of his thumb tracing small circles over your knuckles offering a strange sense of comfort. "I know, but it's easier this way. Easier not to have to explain or deal with the questions. And by the time I'm comfortable enough with someone to talk about it, it feels too late to bring up."

Sirius drops to a crouch in front of you, his hands resting lightly on your knees, his gaze searching your face for something only he knows. "You shouldn't have to explain yourself to anyone," he murmurs, "especially not to us. If you need the chair, you use the bloody chair. If you can walk, even just a bit, that's fine, too. We care about you, not what you can or can't do."

The corners of your mouth twitch upwards, just a fraction, at the sincerity in Sirius' voice. "I don't do it often," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "My balance is... off. I stumble more than I'd like. But I haven't fallen in years."

Remus' hand stills on your back, his brow furrowing as he looks at you, a new understanding dawning in his eyes. "You're saying you stumble but don't fall? How often does this happen?"

"More than I'd like to admit," you say, eyes dropping to your legs again. You flex your fingers, watching as the muscles in your arms respond to your command. "But I know my limits."

James exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You've been facing this alone for so long... Why didn't you say something? We would've helped, just like we help Moony every month."

"But that's just it," you reply, voice barely above a whisper. "This isn't once a month. It's every day. I didn't want to worry you, or make you feel like you had to watch me constantly."

The laugh that escapes Sirius is soft, almost lost amid the rustle of fabric as he shifts closer. "We already watch you," he says, his tone light but the emotion behind it heavy with sincerity. "Not in a creepy way, mind you, but because we care. If you stumble, we're there. If you need help walking across a room, we've got you."

Remus tilts his head, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your forehead, the warmth of his lips seeping through your skin and into your bones. "We're your partners," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the harsh reality of your circumstances. "We face this together. You don't have to do anything alone anymore."

A shiver runs down your spine as James presses a kiss to your shoulder, his lips warm even through the thin fabric of your shirt. Sirius nestles his head against your knees, anchoring you, his presence a solid reminder that you are not alone—not now, not ever again. You feel cocooned in their warmth, the tension in your muscles beginning to ease under their careful ministrations.

"Alright," you concede, your voice barely above a whisper. You take a moment to meet each pair of eyes, holding their gazes, finding strength in their shared determination. "I'll try... to be more open with you. But seriously—no panicking if I so much as stand up to cross the room."

James chuckles, a soft sound that brings a flicker of normalcy back into the room. He leans over and plants a quick kiss on your cheek, his stubble grazing your skin. "Deal," he says, pulling back just enough to flash you a lopsided grin. "But we reserve the right to keep a close eye on you."

Sirius's smirk is a faint echo of his usual cockiness, tempered by the gravity of the situation. "Or catch you when you fall," he adds, resting his chin on your knee and looking up at you with an intensity that makes your heart flutter.

Remus's hand never leaves yours, his thumb tracing comforting circles over your knuckles. The lines around his eyes deepen as he smiles, a gentle expression that holds more warmth than the sun. "We love you, all of you. We're here for you—however you need us."

The swell of tears does not come from sadness this time, but rather the immense relief of being seen, truly seen, for who you are. You lean forward, placing a soft kiss on James's cheek, Sirius's forehead, and Remus's shoulder. Their arms tighten around you just a fraction, returning the sentiment without words. Warmth radiates from each touch, filling the spaces within you that have been cold for far too long.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely audible even in the silence of the room. But they hear it, and their hold on you strengthens, anchoring you in this moment of acceptance and understanding.

You close your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the comfort they provide. The walls you've spent years building around yourself begin to crumble, bit by bit, under the weight of their unwavering support. For the first time in what feels like forever, you don't feel the need to hide, to pretend, to be anything other than yourself.

#remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #marauders era #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #moonsandmobilityaids

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gguk-n · 3 months ago

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Chapter 2- Secret and Surprises

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N has lost out on a few of her publication dreams while juggling 2 jobs. Her crush on Max has only led to failed relationships. She dreams of one day meeting and being with Max. But Max has a girlfriend and a career she knows nothing about.

{Reader's POV}

I finally moved out from my parents's place a few years back when I decided to pursue Literature. It was a very difficult time for me but I had Max by my side. Trying to convince my parents that I want to understand the art of writing and then doing what I love was very challenging. I moved to a another city with my dream university. Even today, they detest my choices and hope that I would take my life seriously. It has been difficult but seeing them once or twice a year only has made it easy.

Max and I are still very close. I still have a crush on him; it got worse after we started video calling each other after I moved out. I wasn't about to get 'caught' talking to a guy under my parents's roof. The consequences would be disastrous. Max is still the same, slightly older, has a stubble. I still don't know his full name, but he doesn't know mine either and I don't mind keeping it that way.

Having Max as a friend has hindered quite a few relationships either because they weren't him or they were jealous of some guy I would drop everything for. He still has a horrible sleep schedule, I've scolded him a couple time, but he doesn't listen. However, he has the cutest cats, Jimmy and Sassy. They love their dad a lot; I really wanna get cats too but I'm barely keeping myself alive, I'll kill my pets.

My job pays shitty, I'm a primary school teacher and freelance editor. I had hoped that being an editor for bigger and well established authors would help me improve my writing and get my book or poems published; has yet to happen. All my clients are kind people and very understanding of my predicament. Alas, this doesn't leave me much time in the day; teaching, lesson planning, correcting papers, editing other's stories or poems, talking to Max. Max has gotten pretty good about not disappearing like he did a couple years back. I still have no clue what he does, not like he knows what I do specifically. But he said he does something along the lines of cars; I knew he loved cars. I hope his job pays him better since he moved a few years back when I was still at home. His place looks lavish, either he gets paid well or it's from the company. I will never know. He's seen the shit hole I live in, but has yet to comment on my poor living conditions. I have too much of an ego to let my parents know I am struggling; I would rather starve then let them know. All I would hear is that they were right and I should mend my mistakes. What mistakes should I mend when these were my choices and I'm happy with them.

I've compiled 20 of my poems and even wrote a book, I've sent it to so many publishers in hopes that it will get picked up. This is like my fourth or fifth time. I mean, I haven't exhausted my resources and till the day all the publications shut down I'm not giving up. I've been rejected quite a few time, sometimes at the initial stages or after first reading and preview. They make publishing a book look so easy on shows and movies. I wish it was that easy in real life, but it isn't.

Being on spring break makes it so much easier for a while, till I have to return. However, I can focus on my book and the editing gig since it pays better than teaching. There's this guy I'm editing for currently and he's so annoying. I want to stop working with him except he pays the best. The life of being chained to capitalism. I was fixing up his errors when my phone rang, it was Max on video call. We spoke on video call a lot after I moved out. He's attractive, blue eyes; truly all my weaknesses combined. When the screen popped up, he almost fell out of frame when Jimmy jumped on the phone. Max placed Jimmy on the floor. Max- Hey, Schat. Sorry about Jimmy. Y/N- Hi, honestly I would rather talk to Jimmy. (I laughed) Max- Sometimes, I think you are friends with me for my cats. Y/N- Yeah, I would've stopped being your friend had you not adopted them. Max- Wow! I'm hurt. (He placed his hand on his chest) Y/N- Stop being dramatic. I'm just living vicariously through you. Max- You should get cats too, you seem lonely. Y/N- I wish, I'll end up killing them since I'm so busy. Max- hmmm, I hope you find a companion. I did find a companion Max, every time I get a boyfriend, we break up directly or indirectly because of you I thought. Max- What happened to Finn? I thought he was smitten for you. Y/N- Yeah, things didn't work out. We both were too busy with work. In actuality, when we finally got close after months of talking and the first time we had sex I moaned out Max's name. He left immediately. I wasn't about to tell Max this. It would ruin everything, I believe. Max- What were you doing? Y/N- Editing that ass's book. Max- You know maybe, you should leave some blunders, not the most obvious ones but one's that would make him look stupid. Y/N- I wish Max, he pays me a shit ton to do my job. (I laughed bitterly) It's fine, honestly. I'll be done soon and I'll never have to see him again, hopefully, fingers crossed. Max- I hope so too. Y/N- Max, you should date someone. Instead of worrying about me. I've never seen you date anyone in all the years I've known you. Max- ahh, yeah, I'm too busy with work to do that. Y/N- If we lived closer, I would've set you up with someone. That someone being me, but he doesn't need to know that. We haven't even met yet; we never even spoke about meeting each other honestly. Max scratched his neck, shaking his head. Max- I'm good, schat. You should find someone, maybe you'll stop being cranky. Y/N- I'm not cranky, at least not with you. Max let out a deep laugh. Max- Well, I've got to go. My sister's visiting. I'll talk to you later. Y/N- Sure, say hi to Victoria for me. Bye Maxie!! Max- bye Y/N.

Talking to Max always brightened up my mood. But since, Victoria's visiting, he won't be available to talk as often. That means I'm gonna have to spend all my free time scrolling through Instagram. It's all fun and games until I'm on hour 6 of some random video on Youtube. I spent the next couple of days cooped up in my home, just to enjoy waking up late. There were still a few months still summer break and I intended on enjoying them to the fullest.

School started way to soon for my liking. Max would send pictures of Jimmy and Sassy to cheer me up. It did cheer me up. Max travelled a lot for work, I've seen quite a few hotels and I think they are 5 star hotels. So, his work place is rich rich. I wish Max would hire me, I lamented, maybe then we might meet. I've thought about meeting him but he never showed any inkling that he would like to meet me. I wasn't about to seem desperate; I would probably jump him if I did. I mean he is single, so it's fine.

When the school started after spring break, I got handed a new author to help edit her work. I spoke to her and she was very nice to talk to. The book she was writing was based off a sport. On further questioning, she told me it was Formula One. I had heard about it when my city hosted a Formula E race a couple years ago. I don't remember much because I'm not sure if they held it again but what I can tell you is that traffic got so bad, I hated leaving the house for a couple of days. I don't really see the appeal of watching people go around in a circle in fast cars. I think I would panic if I found out how fast they drove. The author asked me to do some research on the topic. I was a good student and I wanted to be of help, so I decided to spend the next couple of hours going through Formula One and their rules.

There's something I have to clear up, I have a type of blindness bias. If I'm not interested in a topic, it would be like I live under a rock. Nothing could phase me and I couldn't care less. That's how I ended up on the wikipedia article of Lewis Hamilton, Micheal Schumacher and then current champion Max Verstappen. Schumacher and Hamilton were very good, reading about them made me awe struck. What really shocked me was a guy named Max Verstappen, who looked awfully like Maxie. I've stared at Maxie more than I would like to admit, so I'm sure they look alike. As I went through the article, my heart seemed to beat harder; not sure why. I felt like this was my Maxie however I believed that Maxie would've told me if he was a Formula One driver. I had to lay my doubts to rest, so I ended up on Youtube with the search bar reading Max Verstappen. My doubts laid to rest in a place I didn't want them to; Maxie was Max Verstappen. I could recognise that voice anywhere. He talked a lot, I could recognise his voice in a crowd of people or in my sleep. All my suspicions were cemented when I saw a picture of 2 cats who looked like Jimmy and Sassy and were called by the same name. My heart was ready to jump out of my chest. Max had lied to me; but was it really lying when I never prodded him for answers. Worst of all, he had a girlfriend and a kid. That's when I felt I was lied too. How could he not tell me? I would've genuinely been happy for him. We would've celebrated his 2 championship wins. My throat felt dry and my eyes wet.

Life wasn't fair when I've been trying to get my book published while my best friend, don't even know if I can call him that, is a 2 time world driver champion. He never even told me, while he has been in Formula One almost all our friendship and karting all his life. I felt the ground slipping from under my feet. Was I that unimportant to not share such a crucial part of his life or huge accomplishment in his life? Was I even his friend? All these questions raced through my mind, while tears streamed down my cheeks. The pillow wet from my tears when my phone rang. It was Max on the other line, and for the first time in 10 years I did not answer his calls even though it rang for a 4-5 times. He finally stopped after sending me a couple of worried messages; asking how I was and where I was?

[Max was freaking out. Y/N never missed his calls, no matter the time or place. Worst of all, she didn't even reply to his messages; not after 5 minutes or 10 minutes or 20 minutes. Max didn't know where she lived, he didn't know who to call, or who to ask about her. His hair was a mess, he was pacing the room so much so, that his girlfriend’s daughter asked him what happened. He couldn't tell them, no one knew of this secret internet friend he had. Who was he supposed to contact to file a missing person's report? He tried to calm himself down and think happy thoughts but all his thoughts were Y/N]

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fanaticsnail · 7 months ago

Text

Pretty Red Ribbon

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 2,700+

Synopsis: After your birthday was ruined last year at the hands of a certain pink-feather-donning, glasses-wearing gentleman who you love to hate, your fellow warlord, Sir Crocodile, gives you a little gift you did not expect to darken your doorstep.

Themes: Doflamingo x f!reader, birthday, enemies to lovers, nsfw themes, suggestive content, not explicit - but mdni just in case, warlord!reader, platonic crocodile x reader, dom!reader x sub!doflamingo, gendered terms used

Notes: I had been wanting to write for Doflamingo for a while, and the art by @wesaier gave me the final shove that I needed to get it done. (Their Rosinante also has me in a chokehold. I adore their work. Also, happy birthday!) First time writing a proper fic-length for Doffy before his series.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @vespidphoenix @mfreedomstuff

The soft growl of the den-den-mushi atop your kitchen bench began rattling and humming in an awakened dance. The steam from the scorching water in the kettle whistled in unison to the rumbling call, the rattle of teacups on trays causing your attention to pull in a variety of directions in your large kitchen.

“I’ll get it, Miss,” your employee called from the corner of the room, his body carrying his vast height towards the den-den in three lengthy strides. He picked up the transponder end of the snail, elevating the mouth and earpiece to his face. Thanking him with a smile, you returned to continue readying yourself a cup of your desired tea.

“You really shouldn’t be making this for yourself, Miss,” your lady’s maid addressed you over your shoulder, “You employ us to take care of you and your needs. You should let us do our jobs and spoil you, especially on a day like today-.”

“-And that will be the last I hear about anything regarding ‘today’, Dinah,” you scolded her with a playful wink, “It’s just another day, and I would like to have it remain as such,” you moved the loose-leaf strainer in your teapot, collecting the remnants of the scorched leaves and discarded them, “Besides, I always love being in the kitchen with you all after another stupid meeting at the world-government headquarters. They always seem to gather any excuse to call us all in: exercising their rights as masters and holders of the tight leash. Absolute bastards, the lot of them.”

“And we adore you down here, Miss,” Dinah lulled her head on your shoulder and laced her hands around your midsection, “We love the gossip about the other warlords, and we always enjoy hearing about your day. You take such good care of all of us, but I think we all just wish you’d let us celebrate your birthday-.”

“-Absolutely not, Dinah,” you giggled at the younger woman embracing you, unlacing her hands from your waist and collecting your teacup and saucer from the tray you had prepared, “Last time I attempted to celebrate this day, I was held up for a multitude of times because that stupid Donquixote continued to ask stupid questions that had the meeting at the marine base go overtime. Missed reservations, didn’t make it to check in time at the homestead - and didn’t even get to enjoy that bottle of wine I ordered for myself. I swore that would be the last time I attempted to celebrate, and that’s that.”

“Just because your last birthday was ruined last year doesn’t mean you should swear them all off, Miss,” your handmaid smiled at you, “We’d adore making you feel special if you’d let us. Today is free of Donquixote Doflamingo, after all.” You growled at just the mention of his name, feeling your disdain elevating in your throat as a sour bile.

“I despise that tall pelican man. I loathe him, hate him even,” you confessed, prompting Dinah to huff a small laugh in response. You groaned out more frustrated admissions to your lady’s maid, “I would have him drawn and quartered, hung and splayed, whipped and chained. I could wring his neck and spit in his face if I knew the sick bastard wouldn’t like it.”

“I’m sure he would appreciate any scrap of your attention,” Dinah teased you with a sly tone, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “He seems to vie for your head to turn, by any means necessary.”

“He vexes me, torments me,” you continued, much to your handmaid's delight, “He needs to be knocked down a couple of pegs. Be made to crawl on all fours and beg like a dog-.”

“-Apologies for the interruption, Miss. I’m sorry to disturb your polite conversation,” the larger man holding the den-den-mushi to his ear held out the earpiece and transceiver to you, “Sir Crocodile is on the other end of the call. Says he has something for you.” You groaned out an exasperated breath before taking the shell into your hand.

“Thank you, Arturo. I’m sorry you had to hear that. I got a little fiery for a moment there,” you nodded to the man, who straightened his back before taking your saucer from your hands. He smiled down at you, moving to his place next to Dinah, anchoring his hips and leaning back against the sink with a smirk.

“What’s the call about?” Dinah whispered in a hushed rush to Arturo beside her.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Arturo hushed back his own scratchy whisper, attempting to hold back his laughter. You shot them both a sharp look, your smirk still drawn up on your pursed lips.

You raised the end to your ear and huffed out a sigh, calling into the piece, “Sir Crocodile? To what do I owe the pleasure of your voice gracing me today?” A rumble of silence purred through the receiver against your ear, a lengthy puff of smoke coursing through the grimace of the crocodilian man.

“I heard it was somebody’s birthday,” the rattle of his drawl taunted you through the crackled speaker. You shot your employees a dark look, prompting them to immediately spin on their heels and return to their duties. You groaned as you turned to face away from them, still holding the shell to your ear.

“Not a cause for celebration, Sir,” you purse your lips, examining your fingernails and cuticles, “But I appreciate your call regardless.” Your tone depicted your smile, truth spilling from your lips as you truly meant every word.

Sir Crocodile was your closest and oldest ally of all the warlords presented to you. You enjoyed sitting by him, both basking in the aura of one another. You held each other in the highest regard, you could even call each other ‘friend’ without it stretching too far out of the ordinary. What solidified your bond the most with one another was your complete and utter dislike for Donquixote Doflamingo.

“The appreciation is reciprocated, Highness,” Crocodile’s smirk purred through the receiver, “Which is why I decided to send you a little gift. Should be darkening your doorstep right about now.”

“Sir Crocodile, while I appreciate the sentiment,” you acknowledge his gesture with a kind and even tone, shaking your head as you take your den-den to the front door of your manor, “The only thing I really want is that feather-wearing asshole: stripped down, bound and gagged, on his lanky knees and looking up with his eyes all watery and pleading,” you reached the door, opening it and shrieking in shock as your eyes met with the gift presented before you.

His body was bound in a thick length of red ribbon, chest bare and hands bound behind his back in seastone cuffs. Pointed glasses lay askew on his face with his lips gagged by a ball strapped to his face. Drool gathered at the base of his chin, his glassy eyes looking up at your face with bewilderment. His bare chest was strangled beneath the red ribbon, his pants hanging limply over his hips as the top button and zipper exposed his slender adonis belt.

Lips falling slack, you almost dropped the shell from your ear as shock wrote itself over your features. Donquixote Doflamingo was bound, gagged and on his knees on your front doorstep: entirely at your mercy.

“I thought topping it with a pretty red bow would be too on the nose,” Sir Crocodile called over the mushi, “But he is apprehensively allowing himself to be on the receiving end of your retribution, given his disruption of your last birthday celebration.”

No words gathered in your mind, all thoughts racing as the wealthy Donquixote continued to hold his gaze against your own. His lips trembled around the gag, his brow triangulating in an upward peak as he darted his eyes between yours to gauge your intent.

He had no idea what possessed him to accept this little adventure, and he did not remember agreeing to be cuffed, gagged and without his entourage. As he witnessed the wicked streak spark within your eyes, he truly had no idea what you were going to do with him like this. Without a whisper of admission to it, he truly did everything in his power to gain your attention and hold it for as long as he could. He’d go through great lengths to be subject to your steely gaze.

Ruining your birthday last year was when he felt he truly went too far. You kept your private life quiet for the most part, only a select few were privy to the knowledge of your innermost thoughts. When he was made aware by Sir Crocodile how far he managed to spoil the occasion, he was given a choice by the cigar-smoking gentleman: “Your left hand, or to be subject to her mercy?”

He thought he made the appropriate choice.

Evidently, he did not know the extent Sir Crocodile was going to take his punishment.

“Do you like your gift, Highness?” the voice cracked through the receiver after several moments pause, “Or would you like to return it? Got one in a similar shade and style?” You giggled into the mouthpiece, prompting Sir Crocodile to chuckle his own sinister laughter.

“I think I’ll keep it,” you purred, holding your eyes half-hooded as you reached your index finger down to swipe the collected drool from his chin. Doflamingo whimpered as you hooked your finger beneath his jaw, prompting him to fall forward and lean into your touch, “How long do I have it for?” you hovered your face above his, uttering a final question, “And in what condition should I intend to keep it in?”

“Your prerogative, Highness,” Sir Crocodile confessed, drawing up a large breath of smoke in his mouth and exhaling, “Use him, abuse him, torment him, torture him: he is yours to play with for the next fourty-eight hours. Happy birthday, Dear.” At the final utterance, Sir Crocodile clicked the end of the receiver off: leaving your snail to crackle its muffled voice shut.

You hummed in deep thought, gazing down your nose at the tall man who, even on his knees, is nearly at eye height. Moving his face in your hands, you clicked your tongue as one would when examining an object intended for purchase. He whimpered further when your hands began exploring his torso as you circled his body. Your fingertips felt like lightning on his skin, igniting his expectations and triggering his wanton intrigue.

“If I remove the gag and seastone cuffs,” you whisper into his ear, trailing your fingertips down his spine, “Will you behave yourself, pelican?” He nodded frantically, lulling his head back on his shoulders to bring himself closer to you. You hummed in thought, hooking your fingers over the material tugging the gag over his lips.

“Feel better?” you asked him, maneuvering around his body to face him once again, “Less restricted and more of your repulsive self?”

Taking a moment to roll his tongue in his mouth to regain the sensation, he felt himself relax into your touch as you loosened the cuffs. He moaned as your hands caressed his wrists to reignite the blood flow swelling down into his fingertips.

“Always so kind,” Doflamingo commented with his signature smirk rising to his lips, “Do you ever grow tired of being so good all the time?” His eyes searched yours, still unsure of how you were going to respond to him on his knees.

“Would you prefer if I were cruel to you?” you arched your brow up and lowered your tone, “Abused you for my own sick entertainment?”

“You could choke me, flog me, spit in my face - better yet, in my mouth,” Doflamingo listed, his pupils blown with lust beneath his pink glasses, “You could step on me, rake me over nails and hot coals, and all I would say is: ‘thank you for a scrap of your attention’. It is your day, after all.”

“Obsessive and excessive, Donquixote,” you scolded him, tugging at the red ribbon constricting his chest to have him rise to his feet and follow you into your manor, “Why must you always provoke me?”

“Because I want you,” he whispered after you, a small whine in his voice as he followed closely behind you. His heavy feet trotted like a prized pony after you, allowing you to lead his body throughout the halls to your manor, “I want you so badly. I want all of your attention, all of your focus. I want to be at the very center of your universe, by any means necessary.”

Making eye contact with Arturo and Dinah, both of which shot you quizzical looks as Doflamingo pranced behind you attached to a line of red ribbon. You shot them both a look to forbid them from uttering a single phrase in questioning you, prompting them to hold up their hands in defense.

“Should I bring you your tea, Miss?” Arturo called after you as you exited the frame of the door to the kitchen, “Perhaps a couple of glasses of wine?”

“Perhaps later, Arturo. I’ll send for you if I need you,” you mentioned over your shoulder.

As you looked behind you, there was a foreign expression painted over Donquixote Doflamingo’s face. His cheeks were tinted with a pink dust, his eyes glassy and eyelids half-closed and gazing at you through thick, blonde eyelashes. His signature smirk was replaced by a dumbstruck, goofy smile and his giddiness adamant in each of his pepped steps.

Scoffing and rolling your eyes at him, you lead him into the master suite of your manor and force him to kneel in the center of the room. You took a seat on your plush armchair and gaze at him disinterestedly. He was all but vibrating in anticipation for your next movement.

“Anything to say for yourself, Donquixote?” you purse your lips crossing your legs by hooking your right knee over your left and rocking your foot at him. He crawled forward on his knees, hypnotized beneath your cold stare. Eyes meeting with yours, his lips fell agape in a perfect circle as your foot met with his chest to halt his movement.

Looking down at your heeled shoe, he bowed low enough to brush his forehead in a deep nuzzle against your shin, rocking his head to the side and attempting to become the very picture of innocence. You leant forwards, removing his glasses from his face and glaring into his expressive eyes with a wicked glint.

“Go on, pet,” you spat down at him, “Unless you have nothing intelligible to offer me in conversation.” He pressed his lips against your shin, grazing his mouth up your legs and inadvertently slotting himself between your knees.

“Happy Birthday,” he uttered against your skin, pressing a lengthy kiss against your right knee and integrating his entangled self between your legs further, “And I apologize for ruining the one prior.” Peppering kisses over your knee and up your thigh, his tongue flicked out over your flesh and swirled against you.

Patience wearing thin, you redraw your right foot back over his chest and nudge him backwards to look into his eyes. Your lips curled into a snarl, eyes narrow and accusatory as you gnash your teeth at the tall blonde on his knees in front of you.

“If you want my forgiveness, Donquixote Doflamingo,” you whisper in a warning tone, danger written over your features enough to cause the large man to shudder beneath your wicked stare, “Beg for it.”

Forty-Eight hours was more than enough time for Doflamingo to become a begging, pleading, whimpering mess beneath your skilled and expert hands. His mind fell blank, his body not experiencing the amount of sensory overload and sensory deprivation with a partner in encounters prior.

He was always the one in control, him only ever taking and taking to provide himself the pinnacle of pleasurable experiences. To be the one out of control, to simply have to take what he was given with his mind vacant of all thoughts aside from being subject to your desires.

The only things he continued to manage to befall from his lips were three phrases: “I’m sorry,” “thank you,” and “forgive me.” Just how you wanted him: complacent, dumbstruck, and all wrapped up in a pretty red ribbon.

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