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hurthermore · 9 months ago

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»»------► 𝙰 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 (18+) - 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚒𝚡

Pairing: 𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗!𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 ��!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Summary: 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗. 𝚂𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘.

Word Count: 𝟼.𝟸𝚔

Warnings: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝟷𝟾+ 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚐𝚛𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜.

𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚎, 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚜𝚊𝚍, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚐𝚕, 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑; 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚒𝚝.

𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗, 𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚖𝚎!

Blinking rapidly, you squinted your eyes as you attempted to fade away the blurred vision that clouded your line of sight.

What had happened?

Where were you?

Sitting up, you brought a hand to your head as the rush of vertigo filled your senses; your entire body flinching as a distorted deep voice honed into your audible senses. Attempting to focus on the noise, your eyesight slowly began to correct itself, only for a sense of dizziness to overwhelm you as something cold grabbed your shoulder; shaking you ever so slowly as if it was attempting to snap you out of the distortion you were experiencing.

Once your vision ceased the erratic movement of colours, stabling them into a fixation, you could finally make out that you were on the floor; the wood creaking beneath you.

Why were you on the floor?

What on earth had happened to you?

Touching the floorboards, you stabilised yourself as all of your senses finally equilibrated; only for an awfully grating voice to sink deep within your ear canals, making every singularity of hair on your body stand up. “Doll,” The voice sounded unusually panicked. “I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean it, I swear.” The arms that belonged to the person who was weeping next to you wrapped around you; pulling you deep into their hold as the cries of liquidised tears hit against your shoulder.

Turning to face the person who you had yet to make out, your eyes widened in pure disgust as you recognised the person as your husband. Your nose scrunched up as everything came back to you; the flowers, the screaming, and the main event of you slapping your husband across the face, only for him to hit you so hard you blacked out.

Staring at the devil in disguise that cried over your form whilst embracing you, you began to feel enraged; seething that he thought he had any right to hold you after he had quite literally knocked you out as if you were some ruffian in a fighting ring. Yet you didn’t move, didn’t push him back like you desperately wanted to; only forcing your body limp as he held you, his vile face drenched with ugly tears of falsity.

You couldn’t believe he had actually knocked you out; he had never hit you hard enough to the point of actually enforcing a concussion upon your brain before. Your eyes could only stare at him with zero emotion behind them as he continued to mumble apologies filled with deceit, and as he continued to flood your shoulder with salted tears you couldn’t find yourself feeling any empathy toward him.

He could’ve killed you.

“What time is it?” Despite everything that ran through your head, asking that question was all you could find yourself saying in that moment; all you could find yourself formulating. You needed to know how long you had been out of it, needed to come to terms with the severity of the situation.

Vincent only pulled away from you slightly before sniffling. You could only cringe at how pathetic and apprehensive he appeared as he contemplated telling you. Surely you couldn’t have been out for too long considering the sky was hidden within the confines of darkness, indicating you had possibly been out of it for a couple of hours.

“It’s Sunday.” Was all Vincent said.

Stilling yourself, the muscles in your shoulders tensed as his words registered.

You had been unconscious for two full days.

He had left you on the floor for two whole days.

“Doll, I swear to you, I didn’t mean to do this.” You wanted to ask him what his goal was when he had hit you then; what his goal was when he had smacked the side of your head with such harshness that it was bound to do some sort of damage.

But you said nothing.

You only sat there, taking in the information that you had been comatosed for two entire days; and the monster who enacted that upon you didn’t even give you the courtesy of putting you onto a softer surface, or even taking you to a doctor.

Did he even know if you were dead or alive as he left your body on the floor?

Not a single word left your lips as your eyes fixated on a cracked piece of wood on the floor below you. You could feel your husband tighten his grip on you. “Do you forgive me?” He whispered into your shoulder.

Your shoulders began twitching as laughter slowly left your mouth as he asked for forgiveness. Your voice gradually reaching a maniacal screech as you giggled; tears streaming down your face from the sheer atrocity of the man beside you. He had beaten you for an entire year, raped you, desecrated your body in ways no person should be treated, and you always took it like a rag doll.

You were just his punching bag.

That’s all you were.

Gripping your hands into your hair, you couldn’t stop the fit of laughter that left your lips; as if your emotions, everything you had bottled up from the abuse you had endured split like a knocked over glass, flowing out of every pore of your body. Tugging on your hair, you began to pull; hard.

Everything hurt.

Gritting your teeth with a screech, your husband grabbed your wrists and pulled your hands away from your hair with the same force he would use to push you around. His expression was horror-stricken; as if he had just witnessed some mentally unstable patient stain the walls with their own blood.

You found it incredibly ironic how he looked at you like you were the crazy one.

But as you looked into his eyes, the laughter halted in the depths of your throat, and your face contorted into a deadpanned structure.

No. You didn’t forgive him; you wouldn’t brush this off like you had brushed off everything else he had ever done to you.

But he didn’t need to be aware of that.

“I forgive you.” You reluctantly said, your words laced with deceit. Despite wanting to spit in his disgusting face, that you would never forgive him, never love him, and always hate him, you couldn’t tell him how you truly felt; you didn’t want to experience being put in another two day sleep.

His face only softened as he forced you into a hug you didn’t reciprocate; even if you wanted to, which you never would, you had no energy. You felt tired, and you craved to be away from the vile man who held you. You could only beg in your mind like a mantra for him to let go of you; it began to feel like he was holding you for much longer than he realistically did.

Like a blessing from the heavens, Vincent let go of you before he announced he was going to retire for the night, and as he attempted to pull you up from the floor to drag you into the bed the two of you shared, you refused to let your body stand up.

“I just want to stay down here for a bit.” You whispered in a plea. It was the least he could do for you after everything; give you peace from his presence.

Although you could sense that Vincent wanted to force you into bed, he finally graced you with a tiny amount of mercy as he let go of your wrist, turning away to walk up the stairs; each step creaking louder than you remember them ever doing.

As you heard the bedroom door shut close, you finally laid back onto the floor as you stared into the ceiling. Everything was too overwhelming. The tears that left your oculus organs felt strange against the now empty feeling in your chest, it was as if all your emotions had finally locked themselves away in an attempt to save yourself from the insanity of having to experience everything that was currently tormenting your psyche.

Closing your eyes, all you could see were a fluctuation of distorted colours against the black background; a sign you were still suffering from the damage that was inflicted onto your head from two days prior.

For some reason, you couldn’t believe Vincent had just left you on the floor for such a timeframe. You knew how vile he was, but despite his despicable nature, you couldn’t come to terms with the fact that he just left your body to fight for its life as he forced unconsciousness onto you.

You needed to stop having faith that people couldn’t get worse.

What would happen next time he reached the same amount of fury he attained when he knocked you out? Would your body be ready for it?

Or would you die?

It took hours for you to calm your psyche down; yet you were still on edge, still jumpy, and you feared that if any small inconvenience were to transpire, you would only break down once again.

So you decided to distract yourself.

Looking at the clock that hung on the wall, the arms ticked in seconds as it read that it was the witching hour, indicating that Sunday had now passed, and you were in the early hours of Monday. Picking yourself up, you walked into the parlour room, only to grab the newspaper Vincent had carelessly left out. Gazing over the cover, you could only scoff as the date of the newspaper aligned with the date from yesterday; meaning your husband had left you in the house alone as you remained unconscious.

Prick.

You couldn’t find yourself surprised; not after everything that transpired.

Focusing your attention on the main headline of the newspaper, you read the words that exclaimed a new murder victim had been discovered; providing a black and white picture of the poor victim who had succumbed to the serial killer roaming the streets of New Orleans. Looking at the image, it presented a young man who looked oddly familiar, and without feeling anything towards it, you realised it was a depiction of the man who had harassed you before Alastor had jumped in to help you.

Surprisingly, it didn’t phase you; in fact, you could only smile as you bid him good riddance. He was a nuisance, and he was likely to harass another woman just as he did you.

As you began to read over the gruesome details of the killing, the paper explained how the man had been bludgeoned to death in a backstreet alley; suspected to be inflicted by hatchet due to the types of wounds carved into his skull. You could only imagine how bloody the scene must’ve been; imagining if his brain had splattered against the concrete as his skull caved in.

Continuing to read, you raised your eyebrows as the paper stated that one of his legs had been amputated and his entrails had been forcefully removed from his stomach; as if the killer had ripped through his skin with his bare hand.

You couldn’t help but shiver as you read the gruesome details; it made you feel slightly sick, yet your heart raced as if it was excited.

Deciding that you had read enough of the recent murder, you turned the page of the newspaper, reading over the much more positive story that had been printed into the pages.

As you read, you hadn’t realised you had fallen asleep until a door from upstairs shut with a loud bang; jumping you into consciousness. Rushing to place the newspaper back where you found it, you jumped back onto the sofa before Vincent made his way down the stairs.

He could only look at you with downcast eyes as he dragged himself over to you. You wanted to roll your eyes; wanted to snarl at him and tell him to fuck off as he made his way towards you.

But you didn’t make a sound. Didn’t move a muscle.

As he sat down beside you, you gripped your clothes that you were still wearing from the day you last saw Alastor. You probably smelt bad. Vincent’s hand gripped your shoulder as he forced you to lean against him; your body stiffening as you involuntarily touched him. “I’ve been thinking about everything whilst you were out of it.”

Your upper lip naturally twitched. Is that what he thought of it? That you were just ‘out of it’? He was good at manipulating the script; so good that you wondered if he manipulated himself into believing he had done nothing wrong.

“And I think we need a fresh start; New York, to be precise.”

What?

“Ever since that bastard of a radio host came over, you’ve been acting out, doll.”

You had been acting out?

Did he not have any self awareness? How dare he suggest you were the one acting out when he was the one who assaulted your body on a near daily basis.

“I’m going to go to New York next week to see where I can establish a new business, so by the end of next month, we should be in the big apple; how does that sound, doll?”

Awful. It sounded awful. You didn’t want to leave here; you wanted to stay here.

Here with Alastor.

Why were you thinking of Alastor?

Refusing to look at him, or even honouring him with a response, he took a deep sigh before speaking again. “I’m sorry for what happened; but don’t you see that none of this would’ve happened if Alastor wasn’t in the picture, doll? Can’t you see that?”

You wanted to scoff. None of it would've happened if he had never bought you in the first place; none of it would’ve happened if he wasn’t such a vile and abusive man who saw it fit to beat his wife into submission.

None of it would’ve happened if Vincent was dead.

“You can stay quiet if you wish; but I’m not giving you a choice on the matter.”

Did he think he ever graced you the right of choice prior to this?

Surprisingly from your lack of response, your husband only stood up before walking out the door; most likely to leave for work. Your suspicions were proved correct as you heard his car start up, only to drive away. Glaring at the floor below you, your fingers slowly etched into the skin of your thighs.

He was going to take you away.

He was going to take you from Alastor.

Letting out a scream you ran upstairs to calm yourself down. You needed a distraction. Wanted to get out of this dress; wanted to clean yourself, needed to clean yourself.

Tearing the dress off, you began to run yourself a bath as you gripped the rim, watching as the water slowly filled the tub before dipping into it.

As the heated water touched your skin, you sighed deeply, finally allowing the muscles in your body to relax. It felt nice after everything that had just happened, and you couldn’t help but melt into the bath. Yet your mind refused to relax like your body did; it was still running at a hundred miles per hour, but only one thought stuck out more than the others:

Vincent was going to take you away from Alastor.

Why did that hurt you so much?

Why did the thought of never seeing that charmingly strange man again pierce your heart?

You knew you adored Alastor as a friend; but you had never experienced what you felt towards him before; it was as if you were overly attached to him. Sinking your lower face into the water, you rationalised in your head that it made sense for you to become fond of him in such a short time; you were a woman who had been isolated for the past year. Naturally, it made sense for you to latch onto the first person who showed you affection.

As Alastor began to swarm your mind, your thoughts lingered towards the desecrated flowers that had been murdered; stomped into a wilt by your husband.

What were you going to tell Alastor what happened to his flowers when he came over?

Gripping the edges of the cast iron bath, you straightened your spine; the water naturally rippled in momentum with your movements as you remembered that Alastor was to come over for lunch today.

Not knowing how long you had been in the bath, you hastened your pace as you finished cleaning your hair and body. Wrapping a robe over your body as your wet form left the body of water, you made your way to the vanity in your room. Yet when you opened the door, you could only roll your eyes as you took in the state that Vincent had left the bed in.

You weren’t in the mood to sort it out.

Not today.

As you sat down at the well detailed vanity, you visibly grimaced as you took in your unhinged expression. Smacking your cheeks, you rubbed them as you forced your facial features to return to normalcy.

You were surprised that there was no damage done to your face.

Groaning, you realised you would need to cover up the bruises that covered your body from the neck down.

You didn’t have the motivation to do this today.

Focusing on readying yourself for Alastor’s arrival, you dried your hair before covering your bruise stained body, physically recoiling as you dabbed make-up over each individual blemish. After being content with the appearance of your skin, you stood, sliding your dressing robe off the skin of your body before picking out a dress to wear; only to wince as you heard a shave and a haircut knock echo throughout your home.

Was Alastor already here?

Pulling a creamed coloured tea party dress out of your wardrobe and onto your body along with T strapped heels, you ambled toward the door as the person knocked once more in the same rhythm from before.

Opening the door, the beating of your heart became irregular as Alastor stood before you, his demeanour was filled with confidence and adoration as he flashed his smiling teeth to you.

Taking a good look at him, you began to flush at his more casual attire; a dress shirt that cuffed up to his elbows, revealing his thin yet toned forearms, matching a waistcoat on top of it along with herringbone pants; although quite a formal outfit for the normal person, for Alastor, it was extremely toned down from his usual attire. Your body couldn’t halt the warmth that spread throughout you just from taking in his appearance.

Was it normal to feel this way towards a friend?

His smile seemed to glow as he spoke no words, only gesturing for you to place your palm into his. Feeling a wave of deja vu flood your innards, you remembered back to when he had kissed your hand when you first met him. Relinquishing your hand to him, he placed a kiss on your knuckles whilst looking into your eyes. Giving him a flushed smile, he only began to place more kisses along your forearm before you pulled away from him with a laugh of his name.

He only smiled further as he watched you laugh, suddenly, he closed the front door with his shoe before leaning towards you. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, darling.” Your heart raced as though it was attempting to leave the confines of your rib cage as Alastor closed the door with such elegance; speaking to you with that tone laced with pure seduction.

“It’s only been a few days since I last saw you.” You chuckled as he kept leaning in towards you. The heat that enveloped your body only formed little drops of sweat on your forehead as Alastor loomed over you, forcing you to crane your neck skyward to witness his oddly attractive sharp facial features.

His face seemed dissociated; something you knew all too well as he gazed into your eyes; his glasses slowly etching toward the tip of his nose before he suddenly smiled, pulling up a paper bag that you hadn’t noticed him holding until he shook it next to your head. “I hope you don’t mind darling, but I brought some ingredients with me so I can finally introduce you to an authentically spiced jambalaya.”

You could only tug the corners of your lips back as you gaped at the fact he had even remembered the conversation where you both agreed for him to make his jambalaya for you; yet your mind seemed to focus on the contemplation on how Vincent would react if he found out you had eaten without him.

You found yourself not really caring for once.

Looking at the bag, and then to Alastors face; you melted as he looked so blissful as gazed into your visual organs. The flustered feeling that swelled within you only grew the longer you looked at him.

Giving him a smile, you clapped your hands together, shocking yourself slightly when the noise of the clap reverberated through your body, forcing your vision to slightly blur.

Blinking your vision back, you took ahold of Alastor’s free hand as you smiled. “You’re too sweet; do you want me to make it?” Alastor only raised an eyebrow at your question before chuckling; bringing your hand closer to him as he spun you around.

As you came out of the spin, your vision distorted; yet you managed to stabilise yourself before Alastor could figure out you were having issues courtesy of your husband's violence. “Don’t be ridiculous darling! I’ll make it for you.” He whispered the last few words, almost ominously before he softly held your shoulder, pushing you into his side as he guided the two of you to your own kitchen.

“At least let me help you then.” You exclaimed, despite feeling a strange sense of warmth as you basked in Alastors presence. Placing the bag on the side before looking at you, Alastor faced you; his expression one of contemplation.

“No, darling. I want to do this for you.” Trying to hide your flustered state at his words, you looked away from him, only to place your hands on your hips before huffing.

“I’m starting to think you forgot my name with how often you call me darling.” You mumbled as you finally entered the kitchen.

Looking back at you, Alastor forced a gasp to escape your lips as he suddenly pressed his large hand around the small of your waist, pulling you flush against him; one of his legs forcing its way in between the gap of your legs, but not quite touching. Your hands gripped the counter behind you as a fire like no other began to burn within your chest.

“What are you doing?” You almost whispered with panic etched within your voice before Alastor forced your back to bend backwards as he leaned further toward you until you could no longer realistically flex any further. All you could see was Alastors face as he placed his forehead against yours.

What on earth was he doing?

And why was it making your heart race?

Panicked, you could feel yourself becoming flustered at the entire situation, craving for more; of what, you didn’t entirely know. But as he stared at you with such a predatory gaze, your breaths became heavy; his expression indicated he was ready to devour you in ways you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

“I could never forget your name,” He paused before moving his lips next to your ear only to whisper your name with debauchery. You could only sigh and scrunch your eyes shut as you could feel yourself getting worked up from the whole ordeal; he was bringing reactions out of you that Vincent could never attain; and Alastor had hardly done anything to you yet.

Why were you allowing him to do this?

Why did you like it?

Before you could tell him to back away so you didn’t have to acknowledge the sensations you were currently experiencing, Alastor smirked at you with a chuckle as if the whole thing was merely to tease you; backing away ever so slowly before he began to unload the paper bag as if what just transpired didn’t affect him one bit.

As you watched him busy himself with the products he had brought over, you couldn’t help the pang in your chest as you believed the whole ordeal had meant nothing to Alastor.

Pushing yourself away from the counter, you attempted to distract yourself from the thoughts that forced pain upon the very surface of your soul, but your stomach managed to complete that task for you as it panged in pain.

You had forgotten you hadn’t eaten in a few days now.

Walking over to the cabinets, you gathered all the utensils you would need to assist Alastor in cooking; you wanted to help, and although you wanted to adhere to Alastors wish of allowing him to cook for you, you knew the process would be quicker if you helped, regardless of what Alastor had to say about it.

Washing your hands, you quickly stole a green pepper from him, causing him to side eye you before you picked up a knife, fully intending to assist him, but as Alastor attempted to take the culinary vegetable back from you, insisting that you needn’t do a thing, you pointed the sharp edge of the knife towards him. “I’m helping you whether you like it or not, Mr. Hartfelt. So start prepping something else whilst I cut up the vegetables.”

You watched as his face seemed to fluster along with a twitch of his signature stretched smile as he looked down at you pointing a knife directly into the direction of his neck. As you witnessed his adams apple gulp deep into the depths of his throat, he spoke up. “Alright darling, you may assist me, but do stop referring to me by my last name.” His voice edged on almost unhinged; completely contrasting to what you were used to hearing when he spoke.

Why did that specific tone in his voice shoot pleasant sensations through your nervous system?

Only giving him a nod, you focused on cutting the vegetables, only glancing toward Alastor for a slight moment, but focused on him as you watched him take out a slab of meat after washing his own hands.

It wasn’t a meat you could recognise.

“What’s that?” You questioned as you tilted your head.

Alastor turned to face you, his hand holding the chunk of meat, squeezing his fingers into the fatty piece of the butchered corpse, his eyes swirling with contemplation before his lips moved.

“Pork.”

For some reason, you didn’t fully believe him as he gave you his one-worded answer, but you ignored the voice deep within your mind that kept ringing alarm bells, opting for humming in acknowledgment instead.

Slowly, the two of you fell into a domesticated bliss, and Alastor became more animated as you both cooked together, cherishing each touch he placed onto you as he passed by you and each word he spoke to you as you both shared things about yourselves to one another.

It felt like you were Alastors wife; and not Vincents.

As Alastor poured the washed rice into the boiling pot, the two of you made your way into the parlour room as you had some time until the food approached the end of its finalisation.

“Would you care to dance, darling?” Alastor suddenly asked you. Looking toward him, you watched as he fiddled with the gramophone that stayed stationary on your side table; and without your response, a slow song began to fill the room; surprisingly it didn’t cause your vision to blur.

“I haven’t heard this song for quite a time now.” You smiled as you reminisced, allowing the song to fill your mind with memories of a time from your childhood. It had been a while since you had danced too; something you loved to participate in, but your parents slowly managed to make it an activity you began to hate, and the addition of Vincent only forced you to become fully celibate to the form of dance. “It’s been a while since I’ve danced.” You admitted.

Taking your hand, Alastor pulled you against his chest, only to open his closed lipped smile. “Then you can follow my lead, ma cherie.” Without a word, he threaded his fingers through your hand as his other laid on the dip of your spine, pushing your body into his before he swayed you along with the soft music that filled the room.

Your heart settled into bliss as you allowed yourself to follow Alastor's small movements as he held you; leaning your head into his chest as you listened to the beating of his heart. You could only sigh in pure content as you naturally flowed along with his movements, the dance between the two of you bloomed your heart like a flower basking in the warmth of the sun.

“Did you have a good weekend darling?” Alastor whispered into your hair after inhaling deeply.

“No.” You spoke before your mind could think of a more appropriate answer to give him; the dance making you more receptive to telling Alastor your true feelings. “I had missed you, too.” You whispered before hiding your face further into his chest.

It was true; despite everything, you had missed him. Even though you weren’t conscious during the days that made up the weekend, Alastor was pretty much what consumed most of your thoughts during your awakening.

You had missed him.

But why did you miss him?

Tilting your head so you could look at him, you took in his love-drunk expression, took in the way his eyes glassed with adoration; bordering on what you believed to be obsession. And as he seemed to wait for you to do something, he stilled all movements.

In that moment, as your heart beat rapidly as Alastor held you, your mind seemed to click in realisation.

You harboured romantic feelings for Alastor.

Yet for some reason, that realisation felt like a knife to the heart.

You were married; to a monster nonetheless.

How had you allowed yourself to feel for someone you hardly knew?

Alastor wouldn’t want a defiled woman like you anyway.

Tightening your grip on Alastor, your reality seemed to shatter before you, along with the contents of your heart.

Alastor was most likely just being nice to you.

He most likely pitied you.

It was the only thing that made sense in your mind.

Flinching, you pulled yourself away from Alastor. You could feel his grip tighten ever so slightly as he begged for you to not let go of him through his body language; and as his grip tightened, you looked back into his eyes; eyes that seemed desperate for you to stay, eyes that begged for more than just your touch.

Almost, you allowed yourself to relax in his touch as he ever so slightly leaned down towards you, as if asking permission to continue, and as you were so close to allowing him to close the gap to see what he would do, a ringing sound pulled you out of the trance.

As the noise continued, you concluded the timer had gone off, suggesting that the food in the kitchen had finished and was ready to be consumed. Pulled away from the man you had just had a revelation about, you apologised in a whispered tone.

You began to frown as you watched him visibly deflate; his smile tightening in refusal to frown just like yours did as his eyes seemed to beg for you to hold him again. It made you want to cry, seeing him look so broken. Offering your hand out, Alastor could only twitch a more genuine smile on his face as he placed his palm against yours.

Pulling him towards the kitchen as the music from the gramophone still played, you both allowed the strange tension between the two of you to subside as Alastor asked you to sit down whilst he plated the food in two bowls; one for you and one for him.

Placing the bowl in front of you, Alastor sat in the chair closest to you as he placed his jaw into his palm; watching you intently. “Do give your honest opinion.” Was the first thing he spoke since the two of you danced, his voice slightly downcast from his usual upbeat and charming persona.

Looking down at the food, you couldn’t deny that it looked delicious, and as the steam filled your senses, you bit into the food. Alastors smile brightened at you dreamily as he watched you eating the food; waiting for your feedback. You couldn’t help but melt as the tasty flavours sunk into the muscle in your mouth. It was spicy and well flavoured; you didn’t think you had ever eaten, or made something quite as tasty. “It’s so good, Alastor.” You near moaned, missing how Alastor covered his lower face with his large hand as you placed another spoonful in between your lips. “Where did you learn how to make this?”

Clearing his throat, Alastor kept his palm over his face as he watched you eat intently. “My mother taught me, darling; if you’d like, I can give you the recipe.” You nodded with excitement as you chewed your food with your lips closed.

Swallowing your food, you sighed. “Your mother is an amazing chef! I’d die for this recipe so please do!” Picking up a piece of the meat, you chewed on the juicy slab. “You’ve got to tell me who your butcher is too; I’ve never had pork quite like this before, it’s really good.” Alastor’s smile tightened as the words left your mouth.

“I butcher the swines myself, darling; so you’ll have to come to me personally if you require more.” You didn’t catch on to the undertone of his words, only grimacing when you learnt he butchered animals; but you made no comment on it, only nodding as you continued to chew the food, Alastor beginning to eat his own portion after your first few bites.

As you ate, filling your stomach to its content from the lack of food your body hadn’t been nourished with since the incident with Vincent, you heard Alastor ask you a question. “Are you available tomorrow?”

You were surprised he had even asked, but you focused your attention onto him instead of the beautiful food in front of you. “Yes, why?”

“I’d like for you to meet someone.”

Looking straight into his eyes, your oculi widened. Who on earth did he want you to meet? And why? Yet as you asked yourself those questions, the only question you found yourself asking him was on his workload as you contemplated whether or not he was skipping work to spend time with you.

“I only work on Fridays and the weekend darling; so I’m all yours throughout the rest of the week and so forth.” His promise of his spare time being dedicated to you and you alone had your emotions flooding a warmth throughout you for the tenth time today; it seemed.

Acknowledging his question, you agreed; not without asking him who you were going to be meeting, and what you should wear, only for Alastor to answer one of your questions. “Something casual, darling.”

Falling into another conversation, you noticed how the clock ticked closer and closer to the time Vincent usually arrived home.

You didn’t want Alastor to leave; you wished to bask in his warmth again, to restart the day over again, to experience everything over again, even if it meant having to deal with your repulsive husband in the morning, to deal with the pain of realising you liked the radio host more than just platonically, Alastor made it worth it.

“Vincent will be home soon.” You stated. “He won’t… be happy if he sees you here.”

“Darling, you speak as though we’re secret lovers.”

Flushing, you turned your face away from him; a part of you hurt from his words.

Did he believe you two to be friends?

You wanted to ask him what the two of you were; especially with your realisation of your feelings toward him. But you didn’t. You only huffed as you stood up, Alastor following suit, stalking behind you like a dog to its master.

Jumping ever so slightly, you felt butterflies swarm inside your stomach as Alastor wrapped his arms around you as your hand latched onto the front door handle; preventing you from opening the front door. His head rested on top of the crown of your skull before you heard him inhale deeply.

Did he just smell you?

Without reacting, you allowed yourself to disregard his strange sniffing as you leaned back into his chest; his strange actions not really phasing you. “Be ready just before lunch, darling.” He mumbled into your hair before detaching himself from you, pulling you slightly away from the door so he could open it himself.

As you watched him wave, your lips twitched down into a frown as he left your vision.

You were fucked.

← 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 ✦ 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 →

✦ 𝙰𝙾𝟹 ✦

𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚂𝙾 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸'𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚊'𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝙸'𝚖 𝚎𝚟𝚒�� <𝟹

@cherry-cola-100 @hana-en @undrgroundtheme @roxxie-wolf @mutifandomkid @gentle-aesthetic-bby @itsmskeisha @k1y0yo @d34dl0ve @reikamasama @taygirl24 @alastorssimp @ieatcocoa @tremendoushearttaco @spottypug @bishiglomper @marcysbear @zazamagicaldonut @little-slyvixen @wendigonamecaller @schiz0preniczz @trippoverrt @reader3 @kittyandbluey @xinhar @sol3chu @yuckypuppie @forest-knights @ivebeenthearchersstuff @feellaaya @babesway22

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #x reader #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel

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silk-fl0wers · 1 year ago

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Neuvillette rambles (ft. Zhongli)

Imagine piching Neuvillette on the cheek. Not to hard but just a soft pinch on those chubby cheeks of his. Needless to say, you have now made him go into a shocked state. Why did you pinch him? did he do something wrong that made you upset? something on his cheek or could it be that this is how humans show thier love for each other? He's puzzled and now questioning everything.

It's only when you explain to him that he just looked really cute since it's not everyday you see a high esteemed and elegant gentleman having chubby cheeks so you gotta make out of it. It's fine anyway because it's you, his lovely partner.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

He doesn't despise sweets to an extent, he just thinks that it shouldn't be eaten as much yet whenever he has a short break or any free time he likes to visit Café Lucerne to have one of their conch madeleine cakes. It's just the right texture and taste for him, he even brings some back home to you incase of you being hungry or for craving something to eat at ungodly times in the early rise of morning.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Neuvillette or Zhongli being in their dragon or hybrid dragon form just cuddling you with their long tail wrapped around your body to prevent you from leaving them but if you're busy then he'll of course let you go but just so you know he will miss you a lot and will have you back in his arms once you return back to him.

Because they're dragons, they also have a slight protectiveness over you but nothing so restraining, they only become protective if anyone were to physically harm you. They make sure to put you in a safe spot before going ham on the person.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Personally, he'd be a great hugger. He's stiff and unsure at first but once he knows that you're comfortable and relaxed in his arms then he's going to hold you until it's time for him to go back to work again.

Vice versa too, so far you're the only one besides probaly Furina who knows that whenever it rains in Fontaine it's the hydro dragon weeping and you two know that it's confirmed to be Neuvillette, so whenever he has one of those bad days and ends up crying his heart out you always come by to his office to offer some comfort such as hugging him and hushing him gently while drawing patterns on his back.

He loves your hugs very much, that's all.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Braiding and decorating his hair with the melusine! He finds it somewhat relaxing after a long day of sitting down in the office or from a court trial cause now it means he can relax with his beloved and his melusine daughters.

It all becomes a big hangout as you would sometimes invite them for dinner or to hang out in yours and Neuvillette's shared home. Imagine them also cuddling up to you two while some will have to sleep on the floor due to there being no more space on the bed, it's a big cuddle pile when they're around.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You can make him flustered so easily, giving him a peck on the lips, cheeks or hand will have him go red. Or what about purchasing some flowers for him to place in one of the vases in his office? He's already got a perfect vase that will complement the colours of the flowers and it will be set near on his desk so he can always admire it.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #neuvillette x reader #zhongli x reader #fluff #genshin fluff

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misseviehyde · 2 months ago

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BOTTLE IT

Mike loved his girlfriend Ashton so much, but she really did have a confidence problem. It was the sixth time she had tried to pass her driving test and failed.

"Oh dear," whimpered Ashton as she reversed over a bicycle and crushed it... the examiner shaking his head as he ticked fail yet again.

The stupid thing was, Ashton was a great driver. When relaxed she was brilliant... but as soon as she was put under any pressure her confidence crumbled and she bottled it.

Michael comforted Ashton as she cried on his shoulder. "I can't do anything right," she wept.

It wasn't just the driving test. Ashton was a real wallflower and would lose her nerve as soon as any pressure was applied. Michael wished he could find a way to boost her fragile confidence.

But how?

***

"Here, give your girlfriend this blonde hair dye and I promise her confidence will swell," smirked Michael's bitchy step-sister Gina. "Everyone knows blonde girls are more confident. Convince her to go blonde and I promise she'll never go back."

Michael didn't entirely trust his step-sister, but the bottle of confidence boosting blonde hair dye did seem like a thoughtful idea. Perhaps the psychological effect alone would make Ashton more bold and confident.

Michael knew that Ashton would be against using this dye, so he swapped it out for her usual hair colour and waited. He was sure she would forgive him once she saw the results.

***

Ashton hummed to herself as she lathered her hair with her usual dark brown hair dye and waited for it to take effect. It smelt and felt different this time, and as she rubbed it in she felt a strange erotic tingle throb through her body.

Ashton's eyes widened as she watched her hair sparkle and glow. A vivid blonde streak suddenly flashed through her hair, then another and another.

She moaned, her scalp tingling and throbbing deliciously as the dye was absorbed in. This was no ordinary dye, it was magical and she gasped as her hair lengthened and grew, turning blonder and silkier as it transformed.

Ashton groaned as her skin tanned and her flat boobed chest swelled and expanded. Her lips curled into a cruel bitchy smirk as her lashes lengthened and sharp pink nails shot from her fingers.

"Fuckkk yessssss," she hissed as a surge of power and confidence throbbed through her body. She laughed, tossing back her hair and giggling as her flabby body toned up. Stretching her toned body, Ashton grinned as she grew taller and more curvaceous. Her tits were now large and firm, her ass perfect. Her body posture changed to become confident and bossy.

"This is soooo much fucking better," she purred. "That fucking loser Ashton is dead... I am Ash now."

***

Ash grinned as she straddled her new boyfriends bike and looked over at the weeping loser on the road.

She'd kicked Michael over with with one of her booted heels, knocking him out of her way when the pathetic wimp had tried to stop her getting on the bike with Marlon.

"How many times do I have to tell you loser? I'm Marlon's girl now."

Ash's pussy was already wet and she could feel her superior new boyfriends big cock was rock hard through his jeans. He loved seeing his new woman crush losers.

Ash was so horny for her badboy lover. She wished she could fuck him right here and show the world what a stud he was. In fact she was tempted - it wasn't like she lacked the confidence anymore.

Since dying her hair Ash had quit her dead-end job and started working as a dancer in a bar. That was where she had met the biker gang and instantly been accepted as their newest recruit. She even had a tattoo on her lower back, the gangs emblem. She was a biker bitch for life now.

"Ashton, please. My step sister tricked me. That dye has turned you into an evil biker bitch. You have to listen."

Ignoring Michael, Ash kissed Marlon, her tongue in his mouth. Then spinning round she giggled as he groped her tits with one hand and used his other to grab the handle bars.

Ash had passed her driving test weeks ago, easily getting a perfect performance... especially when she sucked off the examiner. She loved driving, but her real passion was for motorbikes.

Ash couldn't wait to buy her own and join the gang for real, but for now she would ride with Marlon... in every sense.

Laughing wildly, she turned her eyes to the road as Marlon gunned the bike and they set off into the future. Her pathetic cuck of a boyfriend was left weeping, wishing his innocent and kind girlfriend would return.

But Ashton was dead. Ash had taken her place and this bad bitch was here to stay.

Blondes really do have more fun.

#evie hyde #bitchification #f2f transformation #f2f corruption #evil bitch #biker bitch

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foolishsunshine · 6 months ago

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And, just like that, it's over.

The music fades out. The cheering is like white noise, buzzing in his ears, as Astarion pulls him back upright. He's smiling; really, truly smiling, the way that he does so rarely it feels like a gift.

“Good?” Gale gasps, suddenly realising how hard he's breathing, but unable to hold back the smile that's trying to split his face in half.

“Might be the best you've ever done it,” Astarion says, squeezing his fingers before letting him go. “Camera’s waiting.”

The Season by Linnetagain

Drawing the boys doing Tessa & Scott’s Moulin Rouge routine again because I have no chill and no self control. The latest chapter had me screaming/crying/throwing up and this is how I am coping.

Again, inspired by the wonderful, magnificent The Season; the bloodweave figure skating AU fic that I didn’t know I needed and now can’t live without. Read it and weep, friends; join me in this brainrot hell.

Also I literally do not know how to colour/render but I’m trying to learn please be kind 🥺

#bloodweave #the season #bg3 fanart #astarion #gale dekarios #absolutely no one asked for this but I’m subjecting you all to it anyway #sorry not sorry #one day I’ll draw fanart for the season that isn’t virtuemoir moulin rouge I SWEAR #also I still find Gale really hard to draw :c #bg3 brainrot #fanart for fanfic #linnetagain #figure skating au #galestarion #fanart #ice skating #doodles #my art

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kitcat22 · 7 months ago

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Y’know that shop that keeps popping up on tiktok where couples or friend groups make bracelets that match each of their eye colours?

I’m convinced Cody and Obi Wan went to one of these places and told themselves it was a completely platonic normal thing to do, but late at night they like to stare at it and picture the other’s eyes. They wear these bracelets 24/7.

Later on, Ben Kenobi will sit alone in his hut with the remnants of a bracelet that was broken in a moment of rage and will weep over the chocolate brown beads cradling them in his hands while the blue remain scattered across the floor. Remembering the past hurts so much that although he finds it hard to admit, Ben cannot picture his commander’s face properly. He cant remember the little details, how exactly his eyes crinkled and where his dimples formed, how high on his head his scar was. His eyes, though, Ben will never forget his eyes.

On the other side of the galaxy Commander Cody, who has spent far too many years as Imperial Commander 2224, will stand on what was once a battlefield on Utapau and will stare down at the bracelet he dropped there oh so long ago. He didn’t expect to find it, had thought the wind would have blown it away or a local may have found it, but there it lies. He doesn’t feel he has a right to wear it, he killed the man with the matching bracelet after all, but still, he takes it with him and keeps it in his breast pocket next to his heart. When times get rough he takes it out and clutches it in his hands and stares at those beautiful blue beads and thinks of another time, another life.

In the end both die with their bracelet in their pocket.

#star wars #tcw #the clone wars #obi wan #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #codywan

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sashiavi · 1 year ago

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•·····🍑·······• ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𝓓𝓪𝔂 𝓣𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪•·······🍑·····•

𝚂𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝙰𝚟𝚒'𝚜 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙺𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁

#20•𝙲𝚊𝚖 𝙶𝚒𝚛𝚕•#20

𝙳𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚌 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ ².⁸ᵏ

Diluc knew he was pathetic.

A shining starlit in the big city, a monopoly on the finest wines money could buy, an elusive bachelor featured in far too many articles. He had a personal Assistant, easy on the eyes, pretty as can be, the sweetest girl he'd ever come by. He owned half of the city, inherited estates, lived lavishly and yet here he was. Pegged down to a dumb, pathetic mess.

Diluc knew he had better things to put his time towards - The charity that wouldn't stop blowing up his emails for an opportunity to use his face. The pressing paperwork scattered across his hardwood desk, long forgotten for the night. The staccato pings from his phone, messages from who knows, trying to get his precious attention. And yet he couldn't bring himself to care.

Diluc was preoccupied.

His eyes were glued to his personal computer, into a monitor with far too many hertz necessary for his daily life. One hand types at his keyboard, the other, palms at his weeping, clothed cock. Diluc had an infatuation. A near obsession towards the pretty girl on his screen. His darling Assistant.

Diluc couldn't recall how and when he stumbled across your stream. He knew he felt shocked, and perhaps even appalled. His mind screamed at him to back out, click the x button, file for a termination of your contract to save his reputation and yet. He couldn't ignore the soft swell of his cock in his trousers, pressing against the hard seam of the fabric. His eyes were glued to your half naked form, clad in the softest, prettiest colour of lace and silk. A stark difference to your pin straight blouse and skirt, ridged and pristine, just as he was. His eyes danced around your set up, personalized with soft fairy lights and pretty things. His eyes zero in on you, focusing on the sweet squeeze of your pussy around a thick fake cock, pressed past the pretty lace of your panties. That night Diluc found something to look forward to - Every week day you'd be by his side with a clipboard and coffee in hand. One night a week, he watched your pretty cunt swallow up the thick, squishy length of a dildo, aided by his never ending donations and text praise.

"Hey, Red.. I missed you~" Diluc's daydream is cut short by your pretty voice ringing in his ears. Before he even knew it he had typed up a quick tip to let you know he was watching.

Dark_Red : [ You look gorgeous tonight ] $50

He wasn't wrong. You had tweaked your makeup from the last he saw you, opting for something a little more out there than your usual work look. He honestly preferred you this way, eyes dazzling in sparkles and colours, pretty blush rosing your cheeks oh so cutely. You dressed in a pretty set of lingerie, just covering enough for his imagination to run rampant. He wondered if you wore them under your blouse, pretty lacy panties under your the black pencil skirt. He wondered if maybe.. He could sneak a little peak sometime, spill a drink on your shirt, drop a pen and watch you pick it up.

"Thank you Red~ You're always so sweet to me.. Love it when you drop by, making me feel special~" You wink into the camera, coming close, pressing your breasts together with your arms. You blow a kiss to him, oh so sweet with a smile on your lips. His heart jumps, his neck warms with an embarrassingly red blush.

Dark_Red : [ It's always a pleasure to visit you, Darling. Missed you so much ♡ ] $70

His free hand types quickly, tapping away with his corny words, unashamed. You give the webcam a pretty pout, a soft downturned smile, a sweet glint in your eye. You wriggle in your spot, carefully tracing over the intricate lace and buckles adorned on your top. Your fingers threaten to pull at the fabric, snapping the elastic into your skin with a soft sigh. Diluc bites the inside of his cheek and squeezes at his clothed length.

"You guys wanna see my tits? Yeah..? Gotta beg for them big boy~ C'mon.. Beg to see them baby." Diluc should be embarrassed at how quickly he taps at his keys. He has to rival the other viewers, keep your attention solely on him.

Dark_Red : [ Please, show me your pretty tits Baby.. Gotta see them - Need to see you Sweetheart ♡♡ ] $150

His donations steadily rise, not that he would worry. Diluc had a near endless pool of money, he was sure he could swim in it if he so chose to. If he had to buy his way to you then so be it. He could spend it all on you, treat you to the fanciest foods, the prettiest dresses, serve at your hand and foot. He'd make sure you'd never have to work again for at least three life times.

"Nawh.. Red you're always spoiling me.. Am I your favourite girl?" You poke at him cheekily. Gods if only you knew.

Dark_Red : [ You're my only girl, Sweetheart.. My pretty girl. ] $100

You give an airy giggle, arousal spits from your throat and trickles into your laugh. Slowly, you pick at your pretty bra top, hooking a finger into each side of the cup, pulling the fabric down and revealing just a taste of your nipples. The chat floods as the action begins, with countless babbles of praise and degradation. Diluc blissfully ignores them, focusing his eyes on you, watching as you slowly unclasp the latch on your top. You hug your arms around your fallen, lacy top, barely keeping the cups secure to your body. Gods you were a tease and he loved it.

"Wanna see them?" You ask, squishing the soft plush of your tits together with a cock of your head. You batter your eyelashes, giving a cheeky smirk as the chat floods once again.

Dark_Red : [ Show me, Darling ] $100

Diluc types out shamelessly, eyes blown out and in awe, chest tight in anticipation for your next move. You read his message and shrug with a side grin, slowly letting the pretty fabric drop from your form. Diluc takes in a breath, no matter how many times he sees you, you always stun him. You giggle and cutely shake your chest to the camera, showing off your pretty, perky nipples, hardened from the cool air. You pinch at your nipples, whining softly before turning around, showing off your naked back and pretty, lacy panties.

You bend over, pretty ass to the webcam, hugged sweetly by the taught elastic of your underwear. Diluc audibly groans, pushing hard into the head of his cock. You wiggle your hips, making your soft ass jiggle for the camera. Your pretty pussy strains against the silky fabric, hugged tight, looking fat and puffy just for him. Gods he wants a taste, wants to sink his teeth into the fat swell of your cunny through your panties. He spots a wet patch in your underwear, pooling dark with your arousal. He'd give anything to press his nose into your cunt, lick and lap at you from behind, taste your sweet slick on his tongue.

He hears a soft humming giggle and watches your fingers play with the elastic of your waistband. Slowly, slowly you pull your panties down, revealing the sweet, slick mess of your pussy. Your arousal drools over your folds, sticking to the silk of your panties with a drippy string. Diluc absent-mindedly wets his lips with his tongue, poking it between his lips.

He doesn't know how he can look you in the eye the next day. Maybe he wanted you to know just how stupid he was for you, how pathetic he felt in your presence. How much he wanted to pin you to his cluttered desk and lap at your pretty, puffy pussy. How he wanted to dig his nose into your clit, kiss and lick and tease your sweet cunt with his lips. Gods knows he'd worship you, hump the air pathetically while he suckles at your achey clit, focusing on your pleasure over his own. He'd fuck you good, maybe even use one of your little bullet vibrators on your clit to make sure you gushed on his cock. He'd praise you, pet you, caress you, let you walk over him in your pretty, stiletto heels. You could take anything and everything from him and he'd surely thank you for it.

"Hmm~ Like what you see Baby?" You wiggle your hips again, showing off your bare cunt, slick and wet in the soft light of your room. Gods did he. The sight of you could make him cream in his pants. He works his button open, fishing out his aching hard cock, idly stroking at it while he watches you pretty pussy. You dip your fingers in, stretching out your tight walls, arousal making a mess over your hands and thighs. Diluc nearly drools, pumping at his cock while you finger yourself open, wet and slick and loud just for him to hear. He was deluded, and he didn't care.

Dark_Red : [ Love seeing you like this, Sweetheart ♡ ] $80

He relishes in the soft ding your stream makes with his fat donations, special and unique compared to the silly little blips in the chat. He hears you giggle again. You spread your fingers, pushing your wet pussy lips apart for the webcam to see. Your creamy arousal dribbles down your cunt, your hole clenches on nothing. He'd do anything to stick his own fingers into you, have you moaning and keening into him while he finger bangs your pussy. Have you squirt all over his lap and desk, messing up all the important paperwork he'd have out.

"Think I deserve a treat?" Your voice calls. You deserved everything in his eyes. He sees you reach over, grabbing something from off of the frame. He knows what's coming, he'd tuned in to enough of your streams before. The thick, squishy head of a dildo comes into view, practically shrinking your pretty pussy with its size in comparison. You tease at the camera, tapping the tip against your gushy hole, creating the wettest slapping sounds in his ears. The pings roll in, tiny little donations flood your chat, begging for you to shove it into your cunt.

Dark_Red : [ Wanna see you ride it Sweetheart.. Watch it bulge in your belly. Can you do that for me? ♡ ] $250

He watches you glance over and read his message. The smile you give nearly stops his heart. You face the camera front on, pretty body open for all to see. You get on your knees, resting your weight on your thighs, squishing them deliciously under you. You continue to tease the squishy tip of the dildo against your clit, tapping it gently on your core. You're giggly again, talking to the stream in a silly tone.

"Want me to ride it? Take it like a good girl? Yeah..?" You tease. Diluc's cock twitches in his hand, dribbling hot beads of pre down his knuckles. He taps at his keyboard, half delusional, drowning in anticipation.

Dark_Red : [ Take that cock Darling. Be a good girl and Ride it. Ride it for me.. Don't wanna disappoint me, do you? ♡ ] $2500

Diluc's finger slips on his keys, punching in one too many zeros into the donation balance. Fuck he didn't care. Not when you gasp so cutely, gush his name so sweetly, promising you'll treat him extra special for being such a sweetheart.

"Oh Red~ You treat me so well.. So, so well~ I'll take this cock just for you, 'Kay?" Your excitement isn't hidden, you lay it out all for him. He ignores the squabbling in the chat, the other men fighting for your attention, if anything, it drives him further into his delusion. You were his and his alone, his sweet assistant, his pretty thing, all spread out as per his request, all for him. Diluc watches you sink down on the thick, rubber toy, watching as the fat tip presses into your tummy. He grips his cock in time, squeezing at his length with his palm all to replicate the tight clench of your pussy.

"Ahn~ Your big cock feels so good~ Filling me up so full.. Love your big cock! Yeah~ Love it so much" He watches you babble as you ride on the thick length of the dildo. Your pretty tits bounce with your movement, framing the rest of your body oh so perfectly. Fuck. What'd he'd do to have you ride in his lap. To have you hug his big, thick cock with your warm cunt, keep him nice and snug while he works through the day.

He fists at his cock while you bounce on the thick, squishy length of your dildo. Your moans nearly rival the soft, squishy gushy slick of your cunt as you fuck yourself. He palms into his achey, velvet head, rubbing his thumb over the sticky slit of his cock. Would you lap at him? Lick up his salty pre? Chastise him for making a mess? For letting it dribble down the length of his cock? Gods, he hoped you would. Hoped you'd tell him off for being a dirty man, a pervert, chastise him for looking a little too long by edging him on and on. He'd let you do it too, anything to make you happy.

Yeah, he'd fill you up with his fat cock, choke you from the inside out. He'd plow you good, fuck up into your gummy spot, make sure you came again and again on his length. Diluc wants to worship you, spoil you with treats and his thick cock. He'd let you use him, any way you pleased he'd be at your mercy. Fuck he didn't care as long as it was with you.

He watches your pretty pussy suck in the fat length of the dildo, listens to your cute moans as you grind down again and again. He feels the all too familiar twist in his groin, a pulsing ache that threatens to make him whimper. Your moans flood his ears, soft staccato notes as you bounce and hump against the fake cock in your cunt. Diluc has half the mind to type out one last message.

Dark_Red : [ Always look so pretty when you cum, Darling.. Come for me, let it out sweetheart, cum on that cock. ] $3000

His bank account could run dry and he wouldn't care. As long as the pretty girl on his screen was happy. He sees you read his message, bouncing up and now harder and faster, squealing and babbling the sweetest sentences together. He fists at his cock, pumping it with the same vigor as you, milking at the tip with a flick of his wrist.

Diluc was right. You were pretty when you cum. He watches your sweet pussy quiver and squirt all over your bed sheets, making a sticky mess you'd surely have to clean up.

"Feels good! Feels so good! Cumming for you! Just for you! All for you Red~" You cry and cry, rubbing at your clit as you ride out your gushing orgasm on the fake cock. Diluc audibly growls, squeezing hard at his cock, shooting thick, rivulets of hot cum all over his knuckles. He grits his teeth hard, never taking his eyes off of your beautiful self. He milks at his length with his fist, surely sending him into a heated spike of overstimulation. He wanted to make it last, clasp his hand around his thick head just to imagine the feeling of your warm cunt wrapped around his cock. He relishes in your wispy whimpers as you come down, jumping when you bump your clit on the thick length of the dildo when you slowly pull it out of your pussy. He does it again, licks his lips, imagines how sweet you'd be if he wrapped his lips around your achey cunny.

You blow a sweet kiss to the camera, face dopey and smiley before the screen goes blank. Diluc is forced to reveal his own mess of a reflection, eyes blown wide, lips bitten red, hand and trousers soaked in a sticky mess of his cum. Diluc will retire for the night, slipping into a hot shower and make his way into bed.

And when he meets you again in the morrow, dressed up nice and neat, not a hair out of place. He'll smile, wish you 'Good Morning' and take a sip from his coffee. He'll ask how your night went and smile and nod when you shyly give him some other story. He knows all too well what you got up to. If he thinks about it for too long, he feels his pants get a little tighter.

Diluc knew he was pathetic - But he couldn't care less.

I love him I love him I love him I love him I love him I love him I love him I love him I love him I love him I love him omg I love him

Diluc is a rich in the streets and a bitch in the sheets 😔

Yippie 2 in 1 day yippieee

•··········🍑···��·······• ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪•···········🍑··········•

Thank You For Reading! Comments and Reblogs Are Always Appreciated! I Adore Reading Your Tags And Comments - They Really Make My Day ♡

♡KinkTober Taglist♡

@heath-sama @yejiswifex @hunnibunnix @bleh09 @madsw9 @py-schi @wizzardcatwithastick @shiningpaint-marbleheart @cherrytomato2 @i-am-silver @your-tears-taste-sweeter @kqzutcra @themusingsofmany @kaijubxnny @tericula @omletteattack @maryeehawe @pomeiu @the-massive-simp @himenoakuma @medieval-raccoon @succub-suki @mayberaspberrywrites @yannvi @sleepyisgone12

•· ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪·····.•🍑•.····· ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪·•

#ʚ•*°SashiAvi's Kinktober°*•ɞ #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin x y/n #afab reader #ʚ•*°sashiavi's kinktober°*•ɞ #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #diluc x y/n #diluc smut #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader

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shewithoutrain-yugioh · 9 months ago

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I have fic art!!!!

The wondrous, amazing, incredible, talented @kathairoette gifted me some beautiful art for And Lead Me From This Dark! 😭

There are two versions, one with blood and one without. I’ve shared both, so TRIGGER WARNING: blood after the fold.

I’m going to be waxing poetic about it at the end of this post and I don’t even care.

It’s Yami, guys. 😭 It’s MY Yami. With chains that weigh him down around his wrists and blood from where he scratches at them. And his expression???? He’s so unsure, so stunned, doesn’t even know if the hand that’s touching him is real, and he’s too scared to look in case it’s all a dream.

And his posture: tight, still, hardly daring to breathe in case it all disappears, hands clamped tightly between his thighs to restrain the urge to touch. Trying so hard not to do anything to displease the light, not to do anything at all.

All wrapped up in such beautiful, beautiful colouring. 💗

I’m honestly weeping. 😭🫶

Someone took so much time out of their life to create something for me — for US. We all know that’s no mean feat. If you enjoyed this gift even half as much as I did, please, please leave kudos or reblog to show your appreciation and love.

@kathairoette, thank you so incredibly much 💕

#and lead me from this dark puzzleshipping fanfic #and lead me from this dark fic art!!!!!#puzzleshipping #Puzzleshipping fanart #yami yuugi #YuGiOh #ygo fanart

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scoutsbabygirl · 6 months ago

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Just gonna drop this in <3

Scout x shy!reader.

No matter how much they try, they can't bring themself to confess. With Scout taking full advantage of this trait.

hi friend! ofc <3 enjoy this little blurb!

it had been many months since you confided within spy. you pleaded for guidance as he stared at you blankly, drawing his cigarette from out of his mouth. a puff of smoke left his mouth before he responded dryly.

"perhaps you try your chances." he concluded before opening the door to his smoking room while gesturing for you to leave with an open palm. you knew it was best to leave now than to aggravate him.

there had been three or four conversations just like this with a similar ending all theming with "try your chances, take the risk, what is the worst that can happen?" you repeated to yourself walking out of the once ambient room into the bright tuefort hall. the worst that could happen is he says no and you both get uncomfortable in each others presence and never speak to each other again. you briefly thought about dying on the sandy new mexican dirt then seeing him running and jumping over your bleeding out corpse instead of finding a medpac for you.

today was different, you laid on top of your bed, holding a book to your chest. you wanted to open the pages and get lost in the world of words, yet, it would be hard to stay focused and absorb the text written on the bright white pages. then it hit you, a memory of him laughing, swiping dells hardhat from his bald head and seeing jeremy jump back and remark about the engineer's bald head. his smile was so large, how his freckles complimented his face, how his nose crunched up when he laughed hard. even though his laughter was boisterous and echoed throughout the southern desert. you felt warm in your soul. you wanted to tell him how you felt but couldn't muster up the courage to even open your mouth.

a tear ran down your cheek. then another. then another from the other eye. you sat up, still clutching the book facing the pillows laid neatly on your bed. the tears came down until you began to audibly sob, attempting to mask the noises but shoving the book in front of your face.

how embarrassing would it be is soldier were to hear these pathetic noises from your room? he was growing on you- even after all the yelling.

you would be humiliated if tavish heard your weeping. would you still remain his drinking buddy on monday nights into tuesday mornings? then promise everyone that was the last time until it continued just a few days later that week.

a little knock interrupted you and brought you back to reality. your eyes shot wide open. the door creaked open little by little, somewhat cursing yourself for not locking it. at the time, in your head it didn't enter your mind to lock the door behind you. you could feel someone behind you. you didn't know who. little pitter-patters against your rug that you bought before moving hit and the noises of rubber rubbing against each other hit your ears.

and with a little muffled giggle you already knew who it was. a warm hand was placed on your back, which you melted right into the much needed warmth. behind you, you felt a dip in the mattress and crayons fell out of a yellow box, spreading all over the neat blanket.

"sure, we can color." you wiped your face once again, trying your hardest to conceal your emotions.

a familiar gas mask was looking at you as they got themselves comfortable on your bed while holding out a colouring book. it was your favourite- one of candies and cupcakes. you turned around to face pyro, thanking them for the colouring session as it got your mind off things. you had taken it upon yourself to learn sign language to communicate with pyro, which excited the firebug immensely. they signed something back but you couldn't piece it together entirely.

"me? you? scout?" you asked aloud in an attempt to piece your thoughts together, not entirely understanding what they were trying to convey to you. you watched as pyro flipped through the pages of their colouring book, scribbling something down on the last sheet of paper which was blank.

"scout said to get you." was written in dark purple writing which was surprisingly eligible and neat.

"why?" you questioned. "where is he?" you continued, picking up one of the dull sage green crayons. in a quick swift motion pyro raised their hand and pointed to your wide open door making a "mhpf!" noise through the thick material covering their entire face.

"is he outside?" outside the door?" yet you didn't receive a response from the firebug. you took that as a sign. could jeremy possibly be outside the door.

pyro scribbled something with a sky blue crayon.

"do you like him?" they wrote. this made you more suspicious. you made a comment about how jeremy could be under that suit it was so obvious. earning a muffled laugh from pyro. you covered your hand over your mouth whispering if he was outside the door simultaneously attempting to sign your inquiry. pyro nodded.

"yes but i don't have the courage to-"

"see! i told you i was right!" you heard that vivacious voice from right outside your room. you jumped a bit by the sudden noise with your cheeks turning into a light pink blush scattered across your face.

the room and hallway suddenly got silent. you would be able to hear a paperclip drop across the base it was that quiet.

"why can't you stay silent for one fuckin' second, you fuckin' drongo." you recognized mick's heavy and low drawl.

"sorry. i was excited." a few moments later jeremy spoke in a low monotone voice.

you looked back at the opened door to where the voices were emitting from then back to pyro, whom was still busy drawing in their book like nothing seemingly occurred. you felt confused yet butterflies flew around in your gut as this little interaction validated your feelings towards scout and those feelings were reciprocated vice versa.

suddenly, the door burst open and there appeared scout. he quickly walked behind pyro and found himself next to them on your bed. in another context you would have found this moment exciting yet it seemed as if the entire base was waiting right outside your dark oak wooden door.

"well, (y/n), i think you're really sweet, you make me laugh, uhh-" he looked up at the ceiling, trailing off his words. "i think your personality is great." he turned to the door which your eyes trailed there in confusion. spy was in the doorway with an eyebrow raised rolling his hand over and over as he was trying to signal to the younger boy to continue on with his waterfall of compliments.

distracting you, pyro made a gesture as they were yawning which earned a snicker from you.

"i think you're beautiful, smart, witty, clever, there are so many adjectives i could use to describe you. i admire you. you're the first girl (or boy or person) that i've felt attracted to without thinking about having sex with you in a broom closet."

you heard and annoyed sign from spy and a chorus of "what the hell's" and "jesus, scout" and something incoherent from soldier.

"and if im being honest, (y/n)-" he stopped briefly, pondering his words in his head again. "i like you a lot- i might go as far as saying love but i don't want you to think i'm crazy or love bombing you or something."

you smiled at him, feeling the butterflies do backflips in your stomach as your cheeks must've looked like summer roses.

"if you're insinuating for us to go on a date then yes, i would love to."

which was met by a high five between scout and pyro and a chorus of cheering from the men flowing into the doorway.

#tf2 #tf2 x reader #scout tf2 #team fortress 2 #scout x reader #tf2 scout #scout tf2 x reader

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inkykeiji · 9 months ago

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⋆₊˚⊹♡ vox + cum

character: vox warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, snowballing (cum eating), cum play, a hint of implied blood, fem!reader words: 735

when vox cums, he cums in thick dollops of teal cream.

when vox cums, he cums so much that it oozes out of your hole—past the tight seal of his shaft, cock still buried deep inside of you, to trickle down your thighs and ass in the prettiest streaks of shimmering streams, staining your skin in strokes of him.

when vox cums, he forces you to stay fucking put while he watches, eyes glowing with a bright voracity, as it dries to a hard glaze, large hands wrapped around your thighs so tightly his claws pierce your flesh—cute little pricks that weep thin ribbons of scarlet—legs folded to your chest and knees nudging your chin, muscles gone stiff and achy from being held in one position for so long.

when vox cums, you beg him to feed it to you; sweet stringy whines that drip in a steady stream of drool from your raw lips, precious pleads that have him wedging his large head between your thighs and impelling them to spread wider, your muscles trembling beneath the strain. his long tongue unfurls from his mouth, slow and steady, drizzling buzzing webs of glimmering saliva across the intimate flesh at the apex of your legs.

he appreciates the calculated mess for a breath before he finally shoves his tongue inside your cunt, massive muscle extending to brush against your cervix with a sweet kitten lick, eliciting a squeal mangled by a giggle, hips squirming beneath his grasp. a growl vibrates against your hole—a wordless warning to hold still, to be good—tongue held motionless for a moment, tip pressed snugly to the sensitive mound of tissue as he waits for you to obey (which, you do, instantly, because of course you do).

he takes his time with it, meticulous as he is with all things in his life, his tongue diligent and careful as it delves into your cunt, hooked and hungry. it wiggles, rubs, scours and then curls, skillfully scooping the substance from your body, cum cupped in his tongue like it’s fucking precious.

then he’s giving you what you want, tongue busting past your lips and into your mouth, dragging along your own and depositing his cum in thick strokes. he takes a moment to admire it on your tongue—vibrant cyan, glowing gently against slick pink—before he allows you to swallow it, gaze heavy as your throat bobs with the dense gulp.

when vox cums, he kisses you with such ferocious vigour that his screen bruises your nose, glass pressed hard against your face, fingers hooked behind the hinges of your jaw keeping you still, keeping you trapped, his tongue popping with tiny glints of electricity as it stuffs your throat full, spilling growls and grunts and airy little moans into your mouth.

when vox cums, his spit cracks and fizzles with sparks of energy, little jolts that seep into those tangles of thin vessels beneath your tongue and zip through your veins, leaving your blood frothing and humming for more, your eager mouth siphoning more of the viscous saliva onto your tongue as it twines around his own and sucks it clean. a responding chuckle flows into your mouth, vox mumbling out an affectionate so greedy against your lips, his tongue still tied up in your own.

when vox cums, he cums fucking hard, bolts juddering through his body as his hips slow to an uneven stutter and then finally still. electric aftershocks ripple his skin as his moans hitch viciously in his chest, stammering in time with the blocky distortions glitching on his face, fragment pixels clashing against one another, splintering into different colours.

when vox cums, it looks so fucking pretty splattered across his navy skin—art created by your conjoined pleasure, crystal aquamarine smattering smooth planes of sleek muscle gliding gently beneath his skin with each of his ragged breaths, with every tense of his stomach as another silky rope stains his flesh, a perfect contrast. and he can’t help but laugh when you ask, oh-so-obediently, if you can lick it up, gazing at him with twinkling eyes, the melody soft and tender on his tongue as his thumb skims across your cheek—along the curve then tracing the edge of your jaw, glowing eyes dimmed and leaden with love as they follow the trajectory of his touch, murmuring out a syrupy of course you can, sweetheart.

#vox x reader #vox smut #vox x you #vox x y/n #vox headcanons #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #inky.vox #inky.hazbin

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gildui · 4 months ago

Text

crimson

wc: 1.3k | simon riley x f!reader | 18+ dddne implied coercion . cumplay . unreliable narrator . breeding kink-ish . the concept of welding things to skin (man i was horny idk) . spanking . toxic relationships . idgaf!ghost . mean!ghost . inner monologue!ghost . reader dresses in a skirt, has afab parts, and paints their nails but is otherwise featureless

Simon Riley’s bird was gone.

Fled his nest while he was out fighting for his country.

Shameless, really.

Left him with nothing but a handwritten note, a few bits and bobs forgotten around his house, and a pair of forgotten used knickers beneath his bed.

The gusset was crusted, dried with past slick, long forgotten during one of the many nights that Simon would fuck you hard enough to leave the drywall behind your headboard indented. Simon hadn’t cared about fixing it then. Still didn’t care about it now as he stood before the full length mirror in front of your bed in his travel gear, covered in grime and foreign gunk, his boots impeccably laced, his hoodie too small to contain his frame, thighs near bursting from his worn jeans, duffle bag clutched in his free hand.

They smelled like you too.

A slip of red fabric, too rich in colour to remind him of blood, yet still reminded him of the hue you’d been painting your toes when he left weeks prior. Satiny fabric, intricately printed lace across the front with one of those teeny, tiny bows at the waistband that did not untie anything despite how much you had reprimanded him to stop trying to unknot it, Simon.

At some point the bag dropped from his hand. His gloves discarded, left in small piles at his feet. His mask rucked up above his nose, knickers pressed flat against his face inhaling as he angrily fisted his weeping cock in front of the mirror. His forehead knocked against the pristine glass, smudging the pane in a way that would usually result in you yelling at him for leaving prints against what you’d just washed.

You’d tear him to shreds over it, yowl in his ear on and on about mucking it up, and he’d love every moment of it. The way your teeth would set back in a snarl, upper lip curled. Your right eyebrow always went higher than your left when you were annoyed. Your nose always crinkled in distaste like a mutt primed to bite. The way your voice went shrill after he'd said he would help around the house whilst you were off to work, and yet, every time, the chores went on untouched and he remained on the couch as you stepped through the door.

He would do anything for it. To see that snarl, to watch the anger light up your eyes, your jagged, jerky movements—lacking in any sort of grace, reminding him of a fawn just learning to stand—as you paced, hands pumping at your sides as you yelled and cried and spat and whined and pestered until he got fed up with it.

Then, and only when you were about to fragment, break into a million pieces, desperate enough to hurl something at his head, to do harm, did he acknowledge your existence. Half-lidded brown eyes would examine your figure. Leering over you. Objectfying. Undressing you with his beady gaze. Somehow, all at the same time, he managed to make you feel as if he were slightly disgusted by your presence.

He’d huff, like he were the one incensed and you were the inconvenience. Then, he’d bend you over the table. Yank up your skirt, ignore the way your crimson nails swiped at his forearms—”beasty,” he’d coo with that infuriating chuckle of his—and when your nails connect with his skin.

Oh, how he’d be waiting for that, returning fire with a scorching handprint across your asscheek. Imprinting himself into you. Holding you down by the scruff of your neck, your face pressed against the wooden grain of your table as he rutted his cock between your thighs, never quite allowing you the satisfying fullness you’d keen for.

Punishment.

Cumming on your clothes—your pretty floral skirt, your expensive jumper—spreading it across your knickers, ruining the fabric, labelling everything that is yours as his, and only after, he’d fuck you in bed, leave you a blubbering mess afterwards. Too drunk on his cock, too full of his seed, orifices leaking his slimy, accursed essence.

Anything to get you to shut the fuck up, really.

His cock wept as his textured hand tugged on it. Using the precum as lubricant, his thumb notched back his foreskin, thumbpad rubbing against his ruddy cockhead, flicking at it with his blunt nail. Simon inhaled your knickers again, ran a hot stripe across the fabric as if he could rehydrate the fabric enough to suck your taste from it.

It wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough. Knickers in his hand, Simon slammed his open palm against the wall, rattling the mirror, knocking down a picture frame you’d hung ages ago. The glass shattered along the flooring, yet, Simon only dropped that hand to his groin. More delicate than he’d ever handled your body, he wrapped the fabric around his shaft. Carefully made sure the gusset—the closest thing to you he had left, bleached, stained, worn far too many times to be considered part of your ‘sexy clothes’—was lined up with his slit.

Simon’s hand squeezed tightly as he rutted into the fabric, aiming to fuck his hand with enough vigor that he’d forget it all. The small fact that you were gone. Brown eyes set in weary, pale skin and sodden with eyeblack remained open, vigilant in his watch, as the fabric darkened from scarlet to maroon. As he staked his claim into the final things of yours he had left. His breaths fogged the glass, his cock smudged against it, leaving prints each time he thrust too far into his hand. So close, yet not close enough.

You had been wearing red the first night he met you. A scarf around your neck that had him thinking about how pretty you’d look with a collar—his name carved across it—of the same colour forever welded against your skin. You’d looked pretty wrapped around another man’s arm, huddled from the wind, Simon was enamoured then. Now, he was obsessed.

His final few thrusts were sloppy. The burning that had started at the base of his spine spread like wildfire as quiet grunts escaped his gritted teeth. Simon shut his eyes against the onslaught, pretending it was your cunt he was spurting long, heated strings of semen into—as if it was your sticky womb he was once more filling, overfilling—instead of the cold, stiff mirror.

It was your complaints about the bedsheets being gross because he’d refused to wear a condom—”cunt squeezes me so good we don’t need one, beasty” he’d reason only when he knew you were too focused on the rumble of his voice box against your hardened nipples as he peppered kisses along your skin—instead of the roaring silence of an empty house, tinnitus ringing without the blanket of gunfire or of a Scotsman yapping for too long in his ear.

Simon didn’t bother wiping down the mirror, tossed the knickers back under the bed, stepped over the broken glass, as he headed for the dining room. He paused long enough at the table to scoop up your note, reading the delicate, dainty curves of your handwriting whilst his feet moved instinctively to the couch.

Off on a work trip. Call when you get home. xx, your beasty

He was watching football when you got home. Ignored you as you stepped through the front door, greeting him with a kiss to the crown of his head when you passed by to make your way into the bedroom. He counted to five before you came storming back out.

“What the fuck did you do to the mirror, Simon?! What the fuckin’ hell?!”

At least, this time, he swept the broken glass out of the main entryway and toward your side of the bed. To be found and stepped on later when the two of you went to bed.

Wouldn’t want you to spill that pretty red blood before he could lap it up.

#i listened to 'picture you' by chappell roan while writing this #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #sr #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ‘don’t have to do taxes i’m dead’ riley #dddne

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