#deer god x reader
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Commission for anon
Request: So I was thinking a scenario with my OC Andros, who is an ancient deer god/being, and a human baker named Lizzie. Roughly for the plot I was thinking that Lizzie runs a bakery in a small town by this dark woods and everyone avoids it because of the monsters that live there. One night she’s working late to finish a big order and Andros is attracted by the smell of cookies and then spicy shenanigans ensue. Does that sound okay?
A/N: Thank you so much for commissioning, means a lot! This was really fun and wholesome, hope you like it :)
Like cookies, like home
Deer god (Andros) x fem!reader (Lizzie) || knotting, oral sex, cum-inflation, very soft
You are in the middle of preparing the next batch of cookies when you hear something falling outside. A big sound that startles you into almost dropping a tray of cookies. Luckily, you save it in the last second.
You know most people wouldn’t go investigate, but you have been preparing cookies for what felt like an eternity and you could use a break. You open the back door and stare at the dark woods, only illuminated by the moon and the light of the kitchen behind you. There’s only shadows and silence outside, and that calms you.
You aren’t scared, but there’s an edge of anticipation filling your gut that you can’t quite place. It’s like something inside of you is urging you to look further, to discover what’s creeping in the shadows. You’ve been playing with the occult for long enough to know to always trust your gut, your intuition telling you more than most of old tales to scare children.
“Who’s there?” Something moves on the periphery of your vision, and your pulse skips a beat. It must be a trick of the light...
You swallow a gasp when the figure appears. You barely see him at first, a big mass of moss behind a couple big trees, but when he stands up, you feel like the world stops for a second. He’s massive, big and magical in a way you can’t explain. He’s like a moss-monster walking on two legs, and has big ass antlers at the top of his head that give him an aura of a forest spirit.
You know you should be scared, but it’s not what you are feeling, not at all.
You can’t hold your tongue before you ask: “Who are you?” He twists his head to the side, almost like a confused puppy would do, and you chuckle, his adorableness dissolving all tension remaining inside of you. You take a step towards him, a hand stretched in the same way you’d do with a scared animal, non threatening, slow. “I’m Lizzie, do you have a name?” You aren’t sure what’s driving you to him, but you just... know.
“Andros,” his voice is so low and guttural that sends shivers down your spine, anticipation returning with force until you are almost panting.
By the time you are in front of him, your heartbeat is going crazy and he’s staring at you in some kind of wonder. He smells the air when you are close enough, like there’s something there. But you can only smell cookies, the sweet smell of cinnamon and ginger lingering around you after so many hours working at your bakery.
“Smell good,” he lets out. You almost giggle at his surprise, a big hand approaching your middle until he’s touching your hip. You are looking up at him, your neck almost hurting because he’s that tall.
“Do you want some cookies? That’s what you are smelling, right?” You ask him, your body tilting to his hand, seeking more of his touch.
“Cookies,” he repeats.
He looks weirdly surprised, like he wasn’t expecting you not to run, and much less to offer him any food. You smile up at him and he tries to replicate, but it looks weird on his face, like a grimace that makes you chuckle.
You take his hand and pull, expecting him to follow as you get back to the bakery. It takes a bit of maneuvering for him to be able to enter the store, his body too big for the door. Luckily, your ceilings are high and he can stand almost completely inside the store, but he chooses to sit on the floor by the door. He’s almost as tall as you in that position, and you can’t avoid checking his body over. You feel a heat blooming inside of you that was never there before. It’s like his mere presence is igniting your insides until you feel breathless with the need to touch him in some way.
You grab a couple of cookies and approach him again, your hand stretched in offering as he smells them before taking them. He’s so careful not to touch you with his claws, retracting them before taking the cookies. He stuffs them in his mouth in one fluid movement, humming in pleasure as he looks at you. For some reason that makes you blush, embarrassment and some emotions you can’t name filling your insides. Your legs turn jelly, and you have to sit down on a stool in front of him.
“Cookies,” he repeats once again, making you laugh.
“You want more?” He nods vehemently and you get more for him.
That means you’d have to work even later, but you don’t care. He looks so happy to be eating the cookies you made that you have no heart to tell him anything.
After a whole batch of cookies he seems satisfied, his big hand on his lean stomach as he grunts happily, a smile-grimace stretching his features until he looks almost comical.
“Why are you here?” You ask after a moment of silence.
“Smelled cookies, now here,” he says, as if talking is a new thing for him, as if he doesn’t really know how language works. But that’s okay, you understand him well enough.
“You came here just for my cookies?” You ask, a big smile stretching your mouth, pleased.
He nods and adds: “Cookies smell good, and you too.”
“Me, too? I smell good, too?” You wonder, amused.
“Yes. Better than cookies.” He’s nodding almost frantically, his antlers moving up and down. “You smell…” He pauses, like the words aren’t coming to him just yet. “You smell good. Like forest. And cookies. Like home.” His last words made you gasp, looking at him intently. You don’t know what it is, but as soon as he says it, you know he’s telling the truth. And weirdly enough… you feel it, too.
You approach him carefully, your hands shaking slightly. “What do you mean I smell like home?”
“Home. Mine. Cookies,” his head is turned to the side, the puppy gesture making you want to scream at him to stop being so adorable.
You stop in front of him and reach up to touch his creepy face. You aren’t sure what you are going to say next, but you surprise both of you when what comes out of your mouth is: “You do, too.” You gasp at the realization that it’s true, he does smell like home. He feels like home. Like he’s supposed to be here, like you are supposed to be with him.
He launches for you before you can blink twice, his big hands coming around your soft middle and pushing you to the floor, his big body covering yours instantly. He starts nuzzling your neck, like your words gave him permission to do so, and he might be right, because instead of protesting, you groan.
His raspy long tongue meets your pulse point and he starts nibbling at your pulse point, making your body melt under his and your pussy gets wetter and wetter. He travels down your body, ripping your clothes with his sharp claws as he does so. You are left naked and needy by the time he reaches the valley between your thighs.
“Andros, please…” You beg, your hips moving involuntarily, your center aching to be touched, licked, filled… He doesn’t need to be asked twice.
His tongue finds your clit instantly. Most men have a hard time discovering it, but your forest monster is there in a second, sucking and touching, rubbing it with the perfect amount of force to drive you close to the edge.
“You taste sweet. Like cookies,” he says as his tongue reaches so deep inside of you, you have to grab onto his antlers to have some kind of control over your body.
He’s touching and licking and sucking… He’s driving you completely mad with pleasure, and you don’t know if you can take it. You don’t know if your body and soul are ready to take all of him, but at that moment you can’t even care about it. You only care about his tongue inside of you, over your clit, and his fingers digging into your full hips and ass, pushing you against his face to get more access if that’s even possible.
He eats you out like a monster, and you enjoy it like a good monsterfucker.
He makes you come twice before you have the focus to drag him up and urge his dick between your legs. You need him, you need him completely. “Can I?” He asks, the tip of his cock against your entrance.
“Please,” you beg him.
He’s so big you are a bit worried he won’t be able to fit, but somehow… He does. He keeps going slow and steady until he’s inside of you completely. Your brain short-circuits at the desperate whines he’s letting out, as if being inside of you is enough to drive him crazy.
You pull your legs up around his middle, urging him deeper, urging him to move. And he complies. He starts a frantic pace that fucks all thoughts off your head. You can’t do anything but take it and scream his name.
“Andros, Andros, Andros…” You call out his name with each thrust, and when you feel something rubbing against your entrance, your brain focuses enough to ask: “What is that?” You choke out.
“My knot,” he grunts, pressing harder until it breaches you, making all the air in your lungs leave as you scream to the ceiling. You feel so full, so very, very full. It’s exhilarating.
He rolls his hips and you grab onto his antlers for dear life, rocking your hips simultaneously, trying to milk the pleasure out of him. He grunts, his dick twitching inside of you as you feel the first shot of his cum inside of you. You throw your head back and call out his name. He answers with a scream of his own, driving you insane with pleasure. One of his hands finds your nipple, pinching and twisting to the point of brain melting pleasure.
You come again. And again. And again.
His knot is pressing on the perfect point for you to get as much pleasure as possible, and he’s taking that to his advantage. Caressing and groping your body until you aren’t nothing but a mess of fluids and pleasure.
And he keeps coming, filling you to the brim, filling you so much you can feel it forming a pool under your body. He fills you so much you can feel it moving inside with each movement of his body over yours, you can see your tummy getting bloated as he fills you. But you don’t care. You are too fucked out to care.
By the time his knot goes down and your breathing comes back to normal, you are tired to the bone. He’s weirdly silent, but his claws are still tracing shapes over your soft tummy.
“Can I get another cookie, Lizzie?” He says after a beat, making you giggle so loud and hard your middle hurts.
“Yes, you big monster, grab a cookie,” you give him permission, still giggling.
#deer god#deer god x human#deer god x reader#deer god x you#commission#monster commission#monster#monster fucker#monster imagine#monster x human#teratophillia#monster x reader#terato#monster boyfriend#monster fuqqer#monster kink#monster x you#monsterfucker#monster smut#monsterfucking nsft#monster love#monster lover#monster romance
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POV: Your Alastor's wife and it's October
(A/N: I didn't read anything beforehand, so if you see any weird mix ups of whatever, I'm sure your brain can ignore it thank you <3)
“My dear!” Alastor exclaimed towards you, who was at the bar, conversing with Husk. Your attention changed so that Alastor had it fully, which made Husk roll his eyes and chug a drink down. “Mon amour! How are you this hellish evening? I haven’t seen you all day.”
“Ah, yes well,” Alastor tugged on his coat, his grin somewhat strained. It wasn’t obvious for the majority of the others, but it was to his wife. “Just some irritating demons on the streets, is all; nothing to worry about.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Alastor, I know what that face means.”
He raised a curious brow. “Do you, now?”
“Mhm.” You sipped the last of your champagne, and thanked Husk for the drink, earning a nod from him. “It means you’re horny.”
…
…
…
“What? Noo!” Alastor attempted to brush off, his eyebrows stitched with disbelief. “You know how I am about anything sexual, dear. I—” “Yes, yes, it’s not really your thing; we all know that. However,” light flickered through your gaze as you bore into Alastor’s eyes. “That doesn’t mean you can’t escape that month you hate so much.”
Alastor remained quiet, his eye twitching. You shrugged. “I mean, hey, if you want to wait it out, suit yourself. People will ask where you’ve gone, and you don’t want them to give in to curiosity, do you?”
He hesitated before grunting, grabbing your wrist, causing you to yelp. “Fine.”
As your giggles of amusement echoed in the halls, Charlie tilted her head. “What’s he going to do to her? Oh, no, I hope it isn’t anything horrible…”
Angeldust snorted, swirling his pink cocktail before sipping. “Nah, he’s probably gonna fuck’er.”
“What!?”
“Angeldust!” Vaggie exclaimed, causing the spider demon to look at her in surprise. “What? You saw the way he looked at her, plus the way she was teasin’. I thought it was obvious.”
Cherri bomb grinned. “No shit they’re gonna fuck. But it’s kinda weird, don’t cha think? The edgelord finally wants to bang someone.”
Charlie thought about it. “Well, they are married.”
“Wait, they’re fuckin’ what now?”
“Wow, is this month that tough you gotta drag me to your room, Alastor?” You teased, causing him to groan. “You don’t even want to know how much I had to endure for the past couple of days.” He replied.
Your brows furrowed. “Honey, if it was hurting you, you could’ve asked me way sooner. You know I would’ve been more than happy to help you.”
Alastor laughed, locking his door, and whisking the swamp side of his room away to not let anything disturb them. “Of course, you would’ve been, darling; you’re always so willing to help. Speaking of which, would you be a doll and soundproof the area?”
You cocked an eyebrow, obliging nonetheless. With a flick of your wrist, blue wisps coated his bedroom, leaving some sort of shiny residue scattered in the room. “Oh, I didn’t realize it was going to be a rough night for the both of us…”
“Oh, shut it.” Alastor mumbled before walking towards you. He crashed his lips onto yours, cupping your cheeks with fervor and slight desperation. You let out a noise of surprise before giggling and allowing your husband to do whatever he needed to do. You snaked your arms around Alastor’s neck, scratching the base of his ears, just how he liked it.
He let out a soft sigh of bliss, his steps making the both of them stumble onto the bed, with him on top of your. Before, Alastor normally just locked himself somewhere private, usually his radio tower, until this stupid cycle wore off. But now that his wife, his technical mate, was right where he was currently residing, it was way more difficult than it was before to be cooped up.
He had attempted to take matters into his own hands, both literally and figuratively, and the only thing it gave him was sheer shame and embarrassment, so he had stopped trying. So, to have you below him was such a relief.
And yet, he wanted more. He needed more.
He needed to taste you, and mark you, and show every single demon that came your way that you were his wife. No one else’s.
Alastor pulled back from the kiss, planting small yet precise marks on your jaw, causing you to softly moan so quietly it riled him up even more.
He tried his best to keep his composure calm, to hold himself back. But he truly couldn’t with how foggy his mind made everything become. Alastor sunk his teeth into your neck, right below your pulse. You let out an animalistic groan, your back off of the mattress already. “Alastor, love, calm down—”
“Apologies, my dear, but I don’t think I can.” He responded tightly, licking the wound he inflicted fervently, shuddering as the metallic taste hit his tongue. You chuckled, sweeping his hair away from his face. “Alright, then. Do whatever you need to, sweetheart.”
Alastor tried to think clearly, to regain any sort of control he had in his sexual desires, but he so miserably failed. The urge to bite you and mark you and make everyone know that you were his overruled his mind. It was the only thing he could ever think straight at that moment.
“Mine…” He muttered, kissing and sucking on almost every single part of your neck. His hand had other plans, though, as it traced your figure until it reached your hips, and it squeezed hard.
You let out a yelp and a moan, your breath practically nonexistent as you chuckled. “I’m yours, darling.”
His hand, even if it was just one, grounded you to the bed. You found yourself unable to move, not that you cared, anyway. Alastor rarely needed you in this sort of way, and to have him like this, so desperate, so needy, it made you feel things.
You were not quite sure what was going on hearing-wise, but you felt yourself saying Alastor’s name as a plea. He groaned, pulling himself away from your neck with a strained struggle. He drank you in, his smile still present. You almost laughed as his eyes didn’t match that, though, since they were looking at your outfit in disgust. He adjusted his position to balance himself before snapping it away, leaving you bare.
You gasped at the drop of temperature, causing you to scoff. “Alastor! At least warn a demon.” His deer ears twitched as he descended onto your collarbone, peppering kisses everywhere. “I apologize again, (name). I just…” He took a deep breath in and felt his eyelids fall heavy. “You’re intoxicating…”
At the mention of your name, you stirred slightly, feeling the heat pool down to your core. Alastor must have noticed this, however, since he started trailing kisses around your chest, his favorite part being the underside of it. He nipped at the skin and sucked like a dog in heat.
Well, a deer in rut, but one must digress.
You squirmed in your position as he bit down right before he resumed his trail of kisses down to your stomach. He could feel your arousal like it was his own, and that put him in quite the predicament.
“Aren’t you going to take care of yourself first, Al? You’re practically bursting.” You quietly asked, a hand running through red tufts of hair that was tickling your torso. A low growl escaped Alastor’s throat. “I will; have some patience, love.” Me? You’re literally bulging. “But right now, I need a taste of you…”
Your eyebrows twitched as they creased together. “What are you trying to do—” You cut yourself off with a yelp as Alastor planted a soft kiss on your clit, making your jump. “If I go too far,” Alastor started, gazing up at you through his bangs. “Tell me.”
You nodded, knowing that he never would go too far, and if he did, he would be too busy enjoying his meal to understand that.
Alastor’s grin just stretched wider before probing his tongue into you, causing you to shudder with a groan at the feeling. You played with his ears, your breath being stolen away. Honestly, if it weren’t for his cannibalistic and homicidal instincts, he would’ve landed a spot in Heaven with how gentlemanly he was, giving you pleasure before indulging in his own.
Alastor was fully aware of the growing tent in his pants, but he paid it no mind, which he was glad he was at least able to do. With that, he knew his mind hadn’t succumbed to the worse thoughts that he dreaded the most.
He lapped and sucked up all of the juices you had to offer, his pace unforgiving and sloppy. You could feel your own claws puncture the mattress with how tight your grip was on it, but you were sure Alastor wouldn’t care later on. He doesn’t really…sleep.
With how quickly Alastor was working against you, you felt that knot in your stomach appear just as fast, making you curse under your breath. For someone who doesn’t really like anything inherently sexual, he sure is a master at it.
Alastor felt it. He felt you getting closer, and he wanted nothing more than to see you writhe in pleasure all because of him, and nothing, or no one, else. The hand that was gripping your thigh to the point of wounds hooked your leg onto his shoulder for the time being, holding it in place as he quickened his pace.
The only thing you could do was whimper and plead and whine. And every single syllable that dropped from your mouth went straight to his arousal, and he cursed internally. A string of violent curses escaped his wife’s lips as you tugged on Alastor’s hair, which led him to hiss in both the pain and pleasure it shamefully gave him.
“Close—Alastor, wait—!” You managed to cry before snapping, waves of pleasure crashing into you intensely. You let out a demonic groan as Alastor drank you until your high faded.
Your head flopped onto the fluffy pillows of Alastor’s bed, staring at the red head of hair just where your abdomen started. The radio demon rested his head on the inner side of your thigh, catching his breath slightly, which caused a bit of feedback from the voice effect he always had on.
“Are you satisfied?” You asked, tilting your head. Despite the fact that Alastor kept smiling, his brows twitched. He was far from satisfied.
You laughed, and Alastor could hear a bit of nervousness laced into it. Not that kind that was associated with fear, but the kind that was associated with excitement.
It’s going to be a long night for the both of them.
You sat up properly before crawling to be in front of Alastor. “It’s quite unfair that I’m the only one bare right now.” You teased, undoing the buttons of his coat. Though, even as you did, he knew how much you enjoyed that power difference.
Alastor didn’t resist as you unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt underneath. You had stopped undressing him when his shirt hit the strain in his pants, and he felt an annoyed grunt scratching his throat at the lack of friction. “(Name), dear.”
“Hm?”
“You have to stop teasing…”
You scoffed out a laugh. “Is the radio demon attempting to beg right now?” Alastor’s face immediately turned bright red, the cold air that was hitting his bare chest not helping him, either. “Chérie, don’t make me do this—” “What, beg?”
You had figured out how to make it more fun for you, and more cruel for him.
It made him so embarrassingly hard.
Your positions were now flipped, since Alastor had tried (and failed) to cage you in, and so when he crawled towards you, you swiftly went behind him. So now, his back was towards the headboard, his ears pinned back slightly. Without his coat, you could really have a nice view of his small deer tail which was currently tucked in between his legs, barely covering the bulge in front of his pants.
His grin twitched. “So, how are you planning on taking advantage of our current situation?”
You laughed, a finger to his lips to shush him, which made an irk mark appear on his forehead. “Oh, dear Alastor, have some patience! You wanted me to have the same thing just minutes before, right?” Your finger swept to his chin to lift it up as you leaned in closer. So close Alastor heard your pulse.
Your eyes fluttered closed, your lips mere centimeters apart. Alastor sighed, ready to feel the sensation of your soft lips against his, but he only felt the cold air hit it instead. He opened his eyes to find you grinning with an eyebrow raised. His brows dropped as his smile strained, just as much as his pants were. Alastor cleared his throat before giving you an amused gaze. “Do you really think that would work on me?”
You shrugged, leaning forward to straddle yourself on him. He cursed under his breath (a rare scene, honestly. You savored every moment) as he felt himself buck against you. “Well, it did; there’s no real debate about it, hun.” You cupped one of his cheeks, in which he melted into, while tracing the outline of his deer ears with your other hand. You laughed breathlessly. “I’m sorry, your ears are just…absolutely divine.”
Alastor fought back every single moan and whine that you were pulling out of him from playing with his ears. “The things you do to me…” He whispered as he grinded against you slightly, that needed friction making him see stars.
You almost lost self control at that statement. Just the way Alastor was slowly breaking under you purely because you were touching and prodding at his ears gave you such a power surge. Your hands made their way to his pants, where they undid them and freed Alastor, who had just hissed at the cold air hitting his cock.
You stared and ogled at the sight before you, your hand wrapping itself around it. Alastor tensed, his shoulders raised slightly. He let out a shaky breath, watching his own chest rise and fall to calm him down.
He was already leaking, and you used that to your advantage. You stroked painfully slowly, causing him to shiver. You glanced at Alastor’s expression with a sly smirk. “You’re enjoying this a lot, dear.”
Your tone was mocking; Alastor heard it. He tightly chuckled. “How would you know?”
“Alastor. You’re so hard right now.”
“Oh.”
You snorted before increasing your pace against his cock. Alastor cleared his throat, feeling his mind fog with desire and lust, the two things he really wished hadn’t plagued his mind too much.
You felt a tentacle wrap around your left thigh, and your breath hitched. “Al?-” It started to massage your pussy, making you gasp and grip Alastor’s cock a bit too tightly.
He grunted in both pain and pleasure, that brief moment of extreme bliss washing away again. “(Name), love, I think you should calm down this time.”
“Well, it’s not my fault your stupid tentacles start to just—” You cut yourself by sighing in relief, the same tentacle you were referring to going in circles against your already sensitive clit. “I swear.” You muttered, quickening your pace against Alastor.
Suddenly, you stopped your hand, cursing when the tentacle wouldn’t do the same. At that lack of motion, Alastor swore under his breath, his grin showing annoyance as he grunted. Yet even with shocks of pleasure spreading across you body, you kept a steady face, the smile on your face absolutely shit-eating. “Is someone annoyed already? Doesn’t feel good when pleasure’s just taken from you, does it?” You swiped you thumb against his tip which made Alastor stir. He let out a low, dragged-out moan at the sensation. you repeated the motion, amused at the way Alastor took a sharp inhale and exhale, as if regulating his senses.
Alastor hated the way you pouted at him as if he were some pitiful creature. “Awh, does someone crave what he wants?” You scoffed, swallowing a gulp of saliva as the tentacle on your pussy quickened its pace. you attempted to think of something, anything, that could postpone your orgasm.
Ah, you knew.
Angeldust said something about Valentino having a waterboarding kink. Honestly, the thought of Valentino was enough.
You grinned, tilting your head as you set your pace to be irregular. When you knew Alastor was at the edge, you stopped, then when you knew that it subsided, you would continue. “You thought I wouldn’t make you beg for it?”
Alastor couldn’t help the lewd noises he was making, letting out strangled moans and whines and huffs. Just who do you think you are, making the radio demon beg for you?
Well, you are his wife.
Alastor tried to fight the urge to give in, but the way you were teasing him and playing with his pleasure made him want to snap. He averted your gaze as he muttered something incoherent, but you knew what it was.
You slowed your pace on his cock again, tilting your head in feigned innocence. “I’m sorry, dear, I didn’t catch that. You better speak up.” Immediately after you spoke, you bit your lip and cursed internally. You were so desperately close because of what Alastor’s tentacles were doing to you. Hell, you weren't even sure if Alastor knew that his tentacles were pleasing you to the brink of insanity.
Alastor’s pride and ego got the better of him, though, as he mumbled it again, just a bit louder.
“Alastor.” You warned. “Speak. Up.” You quickened your strokes before slowing them down again, smiling as you got the reaction you wanted from Alastor.
“Hhngh, please, darling…” He moaned, his eyelids heavy. Alastor’s grin twitched once more in annoyance. “Please, finish what you started…”
You were going to say something before you felt you coming close. you cursed under your breath, something you didn’t know if Alastor heard you or not. And just as you was about to reach the highest peak,
The tentacle against your pussy stopped its rubbing, and you whined, arching you back. You were grateful for it, though. You could tease Alastor even more.
“Awh, Alastor,” you taunted. “Surely you can do better than that…right?” You placed a kiss beside the tip, and Alastor suppressed (but horribly failed) the need to moan. “Beg like you mean it.”
Alastor accidentally whined, his eyebrow twitching once he heard himself. “Please, darling… don’t tease me like this…” You gazed into Alastor’s eyes, a look of mischief on your face as you stroked quicker.
He moaned heavily, his chest rising and falling at an alarming rate. “Fuck, please let me finish already…!”
Your eyebrows shot up at that crisp swear, you grin stretching from ear to ear. “You’re getting there, love.” The speed of your strokes gradually increased. Suddenly, you felt the tentacles again, but this time, it was just one. It was two.
You discreetly attempted to glance back, getting interrupted by the thicker one prodding your entrance. you gasped, trying to regain your composure and control over him. You tried your best to focus on Alastor instead. “You’re so cute when you beg; you know that, right?” You propped yourself on your elbows instead of having your other hand support you to play with Alastor’s cock more.
More quickly than he would have wanted, Alastor felt himself losing control. He let out an animalistic groan, gritting his teeth. His shoulders tensed once more as he felt himself getting close. He bucked his hips into your hands, the friction making him whimper ever so slightly. “Please…please, please, please please…”
You had never heard Alastor so whiny, so helpless. It was unlike him, just allowing you to assert yourself in this kind of situation. But hey, you didn’t mind. In fact, you loved it.
You should visit more often.
The hand closer to his tip massaged it with the thumb, making Alastor cry out in response. His breath was shallow and ragged, and his voice was breaking. His radio filter was long gone, and just the sound of his real voice made you go crazy.
You felt yourself nearing your climax, too. With how quickly the two tentacles were either massaging or pumping into you, you realized it was inevitable.
You decided it would be ideal if you came together.
You immediately quickened your pace against him, the fact his whole intimidating facade was gone with how he was muttering pleas made your heart pump, if undead hearts could do so.
Alastor felt kisses against his inner thigh, and that was what sent him over the edge. With a cry of your name, strings and strings of white translucent fluid released itself from his cock. His hearing was compromised with a ringing sound, but he heard you moan his name out just a couple of seconds after him, your grip against him tightening as you never stopped stroking.
His breath hitched as he realized that you weren't going to stop. “Wait, (Name)—” He whined, his head hitting the pillow behind him. It was too much; the feeling, the pleasure, just everything. He hadn’t even touched himself in decades, so to just have someone stroking him even after he came felt painfully pleasurable.
Thankfully, you stopped after some time, your grip loosening as you caught your breath. Somewhere during that time frame, your right hand made its way to his thigh, acting as a pillow for your cheek. your eyes trailed down Alastor’s twitching cock, and you grinned, liking a stripe from base to tip.
He shivered, his eyes closed as he held his forehead. He placed his hand down onto the mattress and… Why were there punctures in it?
Just as Alastor was about to ask, he noticed movement behind you, his brows furrowed. Then, he saw it. He saw the shadowy tentacles he knew were his.
His eyes widened slightly as he looked at the now flushed out you who was half-lidded with your ass in the air. “My dear?”
“Hmmmm?”
“Why are my tentacles…out?”
“Huh?” You glanced back and sweatdropped as you finally realized just how thick they were. No wonder You felt full. “Oh, they–” You cleared your throat. “They were…fucking me. I thought you knew that.”
Alastor’s eye twitched before he let out a chuckle. “Well, I apologize for that, dear. Though, I hope you can still take more, since,” he sat up straight, helping you fix your posture before picking you up by your hips and straddling you against him, your pussy just mere centimeters on top of his cock. “I’ll be handling you now.” Alastor glanced up to look you in the eyes. “Do you consent?”
“You know I always do.”
Alastor huffed out a laugh. “Whatever you say, darling.” He strained himself as he held every ounce of the animalistic urge that he had kept constrained as he made you sink down onto him. A guttural moan forced itself out and he started to grip your hips tighter, using that as a way to bounce you on his cock.
You always knew and understood how mating seasons work, from their cycles to the subject’s attitude during. Well, you needed to read about it; one can never have too much knowledge, right?
You weren't sure about one thing, though: if demons experienced the same kind of cycle that their animal counterpart did. Well, this explains it.
It was obvious that Alastor was attempting to help you adjust to his throbbing dick but just the idea of being inside you drove him towards the edge. He bucked his hips at the same rhythm you bounced on him.
Your mind was clouded with lust and pure bliss. Alastor’s cock was kissing your cervix one too many times, and it sent you to absolute ecstasy. your lips formed a lazy grin as you kissed him hungrily, causing his hips to stutter.
With no ounce of shame left in his body, he allowed himself to groan and whine at every thrust he did in you, savoring how warm everything felt. How ironically heavenly you made him feel.
The only unfortunate thing in Alastor’s mind was the desire to breed. To fill you up until his cum splattered onto his mattress. He wanted to make a mess of you, and possibly himself in the process. Alastor needed to make sure you knew that you were his, and his alone.
Somehow his lips made their way to your neck, savagely nipping and sinking his teeth into your flesh until he tasted metal. That sweet intoxicating flavor that always drove him wild.
you dug your nails into Alastor’s back, feeling your climax rising up again. It wasn’t long until you were spewing curse words that would make a normal man break down and cry as you felt the cord in your stomach violently snap again.
But Alastor wasn’t stopping. He started to prioritize his release the moment he slipped inside of you. His pace never faltered; in fact, it quickened at an inhuman speed, causing your gasps of air to be just hiccups.
“You’re making me see stars.” He whispered into your ear, desperate and whiny. He could feel that build up happening again, and this time, he was going to get what he wanted as quickly as possible.
Fuck, just the idea of him cumming inside of you almost broke him. He knew that since you were both sinners, you could no longer have children, but it would never hurt to try, right?
His grip against your hips tightened to ground you in place as moaned as loudly as you had ever heard him. He pumped inside of you, thrusting harshly yet slowly until he felt himself fully inside you. you gasped, feeling your pussy stretch until something absolutely huge squeezed itself inside you.
Wait, did Alastor just–
Loads and loads of cum painted your walls, filling you up to the brim. Alastor’s teeth bit your shoulder as he released inside of you. you felt your mouth dry as you finally gasped for air, involuntary moans coming out for you.
You stayed like that for a minute or two, chests heaving as you caught their breath. Alastor’s knot finally deflated, yet it felt like he didn’t want to leave the position. However, you were still at the hotel, and the others might probably be looking for them.
Even worse, they might think they did something steamy.
Well, you did, but Alastor didn’t want that thought in their heads.
He planted a kiss on your forehead, his lips slightly burning from your skin. “We should get going, my dear.” He whispered, his radio filter back on.
“Did you know you could do that?”
“Do what, love?”
you looked at him through lazy eyes. But even if you did, he could practically feel the mischief beaming through them. “Knot.”
Alastor stitched his eyebrows together, confused. “What’s…knotting?”
you tilted your head. “You don’t know how your cycles work?” He averted your gaze, his ears flopping down in embarrassment. “I’ve never really done this before, dear.”
Your grin turned devilish. “Well…”
Oh, deer (hah). It’s going to be a long night for them.
“Where is Alastor?” Charlie asked, looking around. “I’ve been trying to call him for an hour or so but I haven’t seen him.”
Angeldust snorted before it turned into a cackle. “Like I said, toots! He’s probably in his room, fuckin’ the shit outta (Name).”
“I really doubt tha–” “Good evening, everyone!” Alastor exclaimed, his usual outfit now on. His grin remained constant as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “I do apologize for not being present for the past couple of hours. I had some business to do.”
“Yeah, her.” Angeldust mumbled, a smirk on his face. He lifted his face to look at you. “How was it?”
You just smiled, tilting your head. At that, the whole crew saw what you were trying to show.
Marks and marks of bites all over your neck, bruising it a little. They were surprised that it wasn’t bleeding with how wounded it was.
Angeldust’s mouth went agape with a smile. He wasn’t entirely serious about that statement, but for it to actually be true? This was a day he never saw coming. “Ho-holy shit!” He exclaimed with a laugh. “I didn’t realize it was actually true!”
#alastor smut#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor#rut season#the way I got slightly interest in a deer's rut season#dear god what am I doing with my life#reader is alastor's wife#reader can kind of manipulate sound#lord have mercy on all of our souls
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“I understand, ma bichette.” He pet your hair, again, and rubbed a thumb across your forehead, and he took a deep breath in. “Alright, dear, ass up.”
MASTERFULLY WRITTEN!!! My Goodness Gracious Me, if you are on your period and hormonal read this with caution 🥵
Hate (Alastor x Reader)
Hey, awkward haha. This is only my second attempt at smut, inspired by the lovely @hazelfoureyes. (If you want me to untag you, I totally will).
Obviously minors, DNI.
I'm normally not comfortable with this stuff, mostly because I don't have a ton of experience writing it. I decided, that for practice, I would try writing something where the reader doesn't like Alastor. I figured a dynamic that was different from what I normally wrote might help me learn how to get better at writing smut. So here is something inspired by the best smut writer, about a dynamic I've never written :) Also, my first time writing PiV, so sorry if it sucks :) be gentle with me, lol
Hate
Pairing: Alastor X Reader
Warnings: Reader HATES Alastor, Enemies to enemies with benefits, heat, smut, 18+, Alastor speaks French, praise kink, fingers, PIV.
Word Count: 3,818
You could feel it building. The heat rising and coursing through every inch of you. The way it settled in your core, at the pit of your belly. The twinge and ache in your chest. The pressure behind your eyes. The delirium in which you processed it. It was as much as you could take, and you could feel the tension building.
You hated him. You hated him with every inch of yourself. It was a hate that suffused your bones, that dripped through clenched teeth, and twitched tightly gripped hands. You hated him entirely. It wasn’t just the way he talked, although the pompous air and the two-faced words he spoke with angered you to no end. It wasn’t the way he dressed, despite the fact that it was an out of style suit that he preferred, that pissed you off at even a glance. You knew it wasn’t the way he looked, because as much as you hated the sight of him, he was an admittedly handsome demon and had likely been a handsome man; he had dark skin, and fluffy red hair that framed his sharp face nicely. No, it was something deep inside, that you couldn’t quite explain, that made you despise him so, so much.
Alastor was not a good man. No, it wasn’t exactly the best way to judge those that were already in Hell, but among the many denizens you’ve met, he was surely high on the list of fucked up crimes. Sure, he claimed he had a moral code that he strictly followed, but if no one knew what it was, what the hell was it good for? Maybe it was his hypocrisy. The way he held himself and looked at others with such disdain, and yet he was just as lowly and weak and corrupted as everyone else.
Alastor was a hypocrite, for sure, but maybe so were you. How else could you explain this? Who were you to judge him, for all his faults, when yours were staring you in the face?
Your thighs ached. You could feel the pain growing, and you knew it would only get worse. You had been around him long enough now, that the cursed body you had been gifted had caught on, and now you would suffer for something you never agreed to.
It hadn’t even been a thought, when you moved into the hotel. You hadn’t thought about the fact that your form and his might affect one another. How were you supposed to know it was a possibility when you’d never run across another deer demon, let alone a Buck? Hell, quite frankly, hell. Each new, fucked up thing, you found brought you greater misery. Now your own body was a prison. You’d take having periods again, if it meant you didn’t have this terrible thing.
When it had first started, only days before, you had sought out Angel Dust, who had laughed at you.
“Ha! Are you pulling my chain, toots?” He had asked, his tone filled with bewilderment. “C’mon, you gotta know! You’ve been here for years!”
But you didn’t know, and when he caught the anxious look growing on your face, and the fidgeting of your hands, he sighed.
“Shit, ya don’t know, do ya?” Angel put one of his many arms around your shoulders, and guided you to his room. He settled you on a plush bean bag, and offered you something to drink. You shook your head, anxiety making your face tingle. “Suit yourself, babes.” He sighed, and scratched the back of his head. “It’s called heat. Some folks don’t got one, some do frequently, and some are seasonal. For folks who got it seasonally, it tends to, uh, depend on whether or not ya got someone, you know, compatible.”
You cocked your head as you scratched and pulled at a stray thread on your pants.
“You gotta find someone with a similar build to yours. If you ain’t ever seen another deer, it might be why it hasn’t come up, babes.” His words clicked in your head, and your face paled.
“No,” you said, chest frozen at the thought. It hurt suddenly. Your hands tingled, and your chest hurt. What was happening? “No, no, no. Absolutely not, please tell me it’s not because-”
Angel winced, and gave you a pitying look. “Yeah, it’s cuz of Al, doll.”
You gasped for breath, and you shook. You couldn’t think clearly. Everyone knew how much you and Alastor hated each other. You made it clear, and his constant badgering and rude behavior seemed to solidify it for everyone that it was mutual. But for your body to betray you, for him? This felt like the ultimate Hell.
When you started crying, Angel had soothed you to the best of his ability. The next morning, after falling asleep in Angel’s many arms, he gave you an unopened toy, and told you to gather supplies. Enough to hoard up in your room for a few days. He promised to run interference for you, and sent you on your way.
So here you were, writhing on your bed, on day three. Your sense of smell was increased, and your ears twitched at each subtle sound in the hall. You had tried putting on some mindless show so you could stop focusing on all these extra sensations, but it didn’t help. The extra voices, all not his, sent your head spinning. You had turned it off after only half-an-hour.
Your thighs rubbed together, and sweat dripped down the back of your neck. You pushed your face into a pillow and groaned. You had avoided it thus far, but it might be time to break out the little vibrator.
Eventually, you sat up in your bed, ignoring the blankets that you had pushed to the floor the day before. You huffed, and reached for the toy that had been plugged in the night before. You gave the strange pink toy a squeeze, the soft silicone giving just slightly, and made your way to the bathroom. While you washed the toy, you tried to convince yourself that this was all you needed. One good vibe session, and you’d be back to normal. You were wrong.
It was hot. The whole room was unbearably hot. You were covered in a thin layer of sweat, and your clothes had long found themselves on the floor. You had needed to recharge the toy one already, and it had only been a day. The water in the shower couldn’t get cold enough to cool you down. Your core ached, constantly, and your thighs had a near constant mess of slick spread along them. You were delirious with the unfathomable sensations you had been unwillingly wrapped in.
With a cry, and your soaked fingers at your clit, you orgasmed, weakly. The release wasn’t nearly enough. You twisted, and bit down on your pillow as you cried, just a little. This was terrible. And all because of Alastor. You thought of his nasty jokes, and how cruel he could be. You thought on sharp eyes, and sharper smiles. You thought of his claws, and a soft grasp around your throat, slowly tightening as a normally clear voice grunted and huffed. You pulled your vibrator out again. With something in you snapping, you kept thinking of his slim hips, and broad chest. The way his hands twitched and grasped at his microphone. His leer and the way his eyes followed you when you walked into the room. His laugh, when he was angry with someone. The way he had shown you to handle a weapon before you fought the angels. The angry look he gave you when you yelled at him weeks later. You thought of his hands wrapping around your wrist, and his chest hovering over your back as lithe hips pressed against your ass.
You came with another cry, the white-hot feeling surging through you.
Shame filled you up. You were a hypocrite too, it seemed.
It was dark. Your head was fuzzy, and you couldn’t place the time of day. You sat up, the room spinning as your heart settled. Something smelled good. Your eyes fluttered as you took it in. After a moment, you flicked your eyes around the room, and in the chair by the window was a figure.
You screeched. It wasn’t terribly loudly, but it made the figure twitch. You dove to the lamp by your beside, and quickly flicked it on. As the warm light filled the room, it flashed across his eyes, and the look alone made you gasp.
“Alastor?” You whispered. What the fuck was he doing in your room?
“Oh, ma bichette.” His voice was rougher than normal, something dark tinging it.
“What the fuck are you doing in my room, Alastor?” Despite the yearning in the pit of your belly, and the aching you had suffered through for days, this was beyond not okay. Alarm bells were ringing in the back of your head, and you couldn’t fathom why he would break into your room.
“Oh, ma chérie. I have felt that burn for days, and in your absence it grew worse.” His head cocked, and his eyes flashed in the light again. His hair looked strange, as if it was nearly damp. Something in his smile was unhinged. Your chest tugged and ached, and you had to fight to focus through the tingling in your fingers. “I could smell you, and this ache, this hunger I have never known, only grew worse.”
He stood from the chair, and you leaned back on your hands, ready to twist and run if you needed to. His tall form drew your gaze up his shape. Your mind struggled to focus on any one thing, and it was hard to hold onto your anger, like this.
“It is impolite, to come in like this, but I need. And I can tell you do too.” He walked towards you, and leaned over you. Your conflicting feelings about the situation caused you to hesitate. You leaned back, your back meeting your sheets, and your knees bent, as if your legs could stop him from advancing. You were right, in that they would not, because a moment later, he was crawling over you, forearms flat on either side of your head. “I will leave if you ask it of me, my dear. But I ask that you let me pleasure you,” he whispered to you. His sharp teeth clacked as he glanced over your form. “Let me relieve us of this.”
One of his hands brushed some of your damp hair from your forehead, and the look on his face nearly flat lined you. He looked so strange. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was. His eyes were soft and gazing at you with some unknown feeling gleaming in them. His mouth was slanted, and his teeth glittering in the low light — Your train of thought halted as you realized he wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t smiling. What the fuck? What could have done that? Your eyes widened, and you could only stare as his thumb strayed to your lips and tugged at the bottom lip.
“What do you say, my dear?” His gaze caught yours, and you could barely breathe.
“I hate you,” you said. “I hate you, especially for this.”
Something flickered across his face, but he didn’t pull away. “I know, mon cœur. You have many reasons, but this isn’t about that. I merely wish to ease our suffering. Your suffering.”
You wanted to cry. How fucking dare he? How dare he be so terrible on a daily basis, and yet so kind now? You wanted to scream. You could feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. It felt so unfair. But you were desperate, and he was offering to touch you, something he didn’t like to do. You knew his reputation, his dislike and disregard for things of a sexual nature, and yet here he was, crossing that boundary with you. (Something in you hurt, knowing that someone who hated him would be crossing that line with him, not someone who loved him or cared for him in any capacity. Maybe that was his Hell).
“Fine. Fuck. Fine. We can fuck, just, I don’t know. No kissing. And I uh, I’d like to be on my belly.” You didn’t want to look at him. (You knew it was the thought of him that got you off so many times, but the idea of really seeing him, bothered you in a way you couldn’t explain). His face twitched, but he nodded.
“I understand, ma bichette.” He pet your hair, again, and rubbed a thumb across your forehead, and he took a deep breath in. “Alright, dear, ass up.”
Your eyes widened, and you gulped down the little moisture in your mouth. With deep, steady breaths, you turned over, maneuvering on the bed with twitching limbs. You pressed your chest against the bed, aching at the tenderness in your breasts. Your hands held onto the sheets tightly, and your ears twitched and pressed flat against your skull. Your tail sprung straight, and you could hear Alastor let out a breathy chuckle. The sound of clasps and zippers coming undone made your tail wag, and you could feel one of his hands swat at the fluffy bundle of fur at the base of your spine.
“Excited, dearest?” His voice carried in the quiet room. You couldn’t reply with words. You were so conflicted. You hated him acutely, and yet here you were. Something akin to giddiness was building in your chest. Your tail wagged harder. You hoped he didn’t take it as an answer.
You could feel his warm body lean over yours a moment later. He was so much bigger than you. It was clear with how wide his shoulders were, and how his long legs cradled yours easily. One of his forearms settled beside yours, and his face rested in the crux of your shoulder. Sharp teeth lightly grazed the skin there, while hot breath fanned over your back. Soft touches on the swell of your ass, creeping over your hip, and then cupping your mound softly. (How could he be so soft in this, and yet so harsh? Your mind was buzzing so loud).
“Stop thinking, mon trésor.” His finger grazed your clit, and your mind went quiet. Oh, you had forgotten what it was like being touched by someone else.
His fingers moved with focus from there, and your legs twitched. You huffed, and closed your eyes, letting the sensations fall over you. Soon, with the gentle touches getting firmer, and more precise, your thighs were getting slick. Small sounds left your clenched teeth. (It felt good, but the petty part of you wanted to deprive him of the satisfaction of your noises).
Alastor’s hand moved, and suddenly one finger was sinking into your heat. You groaned, and your back arched.
“Oh, continuer ma chère. Je veux vous entendre.” His voice is coarse, but his finger curls, and you can’t even try and translate his whispered words. Your body trembles as he slips in a second finger. His thumb catches your clit, and your mind is a muddled mess. Your resolve to remain silent shatters, and your voice leaves your throat with no control.
“Oh, Alastor,” you say. Your eyes flutter, and you clench down on his fingers. He grunts, and thrusts them a little harder.
“When you are ready, my dear, come for me. And then we can move on to the main event.” His words attempt for nonchalance, but the way he struggles to get them out has you internally laughing. It stops when his erection, clear as day, rubs against your ass. Your hips twitch, pressing against him. “Oh,” he grunts. “Not yet dear.”
He twists his hand, and presses his chest against your back. His hand on the bed grabs at yours, and he intertwines your fingers. Teeth scratch at your shoulder, and the sudden flood of sensory information sends you over a line you didn’t know you were near.
“Ah! Alastor,” You cry, and fire flicker up your core, and in your veins. You clench hard on his fingers, and his ever present static swells in response. (Although, with how much your hands and face tingle, it could be in your head).
“Oh, yes.” His head settles against your shoulder blade, and his hand slowly pulls from your core. His wet fingers graze your hip with soft touches, and the hand holding yours rubs softly. “So good for me, dearest. My doe. So good.”
Your chest aches, and you want to cry. How fucking dare he hit the fucking nail on the head? Your breath hitches, and you have to work to not cry.
“Oh, my dear.” He sits up, and the loss of his heat nearly makes your tears fall. You can’t fathom why you’re suddenly emotional, but it won’t waver in its intensity. His face settles in your sight line. “Are you alright, dear?” His lets go of yours, and cradles the back of your head. “Did I hurt you?”
You want to cry. Fuck him. Fuck this. How dare he. A tear slips before you can stop it, and his eyes narrow, something nearly concerned looking, crossing his expression.
“No. Fuck you. I hate you,” you can barely finish the sentence before a hint of a sob leaves you. “I hate you. I hate you. Just fuck me already.”
His brows furrow, and the red of his eyes glints as he manages a nod. “If that’s what you desire,” he says, and then he’s behind you again.
His hands are on your hips, and you hear skin against skin, and then he’s gently prodding you with the thick head of his cock. Alastor presses his cock into your soaking entrance slowly, and you worry about his size for a moment. But then, he’s pressing more firmly, and your thoughts halt. Electricity is shooting up your spine as he sinks into you. You internally thank him fro prepping you with his fingers, because he’s packing more than you would have expected.
A sharp breath from him, and then his hips snap against yours. “Hah, sorry, dearest.” His breaths are rough, and you feel his hands squeeze your hips hard. “I had intended to go slower, but this is-” He bends over you again, and his chest is against your back, and he’s grasping at the sheet with you. “You’re so good, my dear. Better than I could have ever-”
His hips snap again, and your body jolts. You gasp as he presses his hips against your ass, pushing as far he can get. You feel so tight. Everything is hot, and all you can think about is him. Your tail brushes against his belly as he starts to set a rhythm. All the pain you had been in, and you were starting to feel like it might have been worth it.
One of his hand wraps around your waist, over your breasts, and his hand settles on your neck. “Let me know if you wish me to stop,” he huffs, and then he’s squeezing your throat, just slightly.
You mewl, and roll your hips against him. “Oh yes. Little doe. You are so good for me.” The way he says makes you moan again, and you huff as he squeezes your throat again.
The pace he sets is just under what you need, and it makes you hate him more. Part of you knows what he’s waiting for, and you dread it. It’s within mere moments, though, that you cave, and open your mouth.
“Alastor, please,” you say. Your voice is weak, with how hard it is to take a full breath. Your body is pressed into the mattress, and with the stinging breaths you attempt to take with each thrust, and the light squeeze of his hand around your neck, you struggle.
His hand loosens, as if he can read your mind. “What is it, dearest,” He asks. “Use your words. I know you can.”
You sigh, and nearly yell at him when his hips stop, giving you time to speak up. You roll your eyes, and nearly beg, “Please, just a little faster.”
You can hear the smile when he responds, “Of course, my doe,” and then his pace starts up again, faster, and just a tinge harder, than it had been before. Your toes curl and your hands grasp at the sheets.
That heat was growing again, low in your belly. Your thighs were aching, and your back was as arched as you could get it. Sweat was dripping down your back, and all you could think is that you wanted more.
“Alastor,” you moaned, and grunted back. As you clenched down on his cock, the heat grew, and you could feel tight wires wrapping around your core.
“Oh, ma biche, tu es si bonne pour moi.” His fingers found your clit again, and he rubbed with focus. “So good. You are so good.” He kept repeating it like a mantra, and you couldn’t handle it anymore.
The wires snapped, and your body went white-hot. You couldn’t see, and you stopped being able to hear more than garbled syllables and the rhythmic thumping of the headboard against the wall.
Your body went taut, and you clenched down. You could hear his voice grow sharp and ragged, but nothing more as he kept thrusting.
When you finally settled enough to focus your hearing, you could hear Alastor muttering to himself. And then he went still. “Do you want me to leave my seed in you, or no?”
Your breath caught. Fuck, you hadn’t thought about that. Without thinking too much, you whispered, “In.”
You watch one of his hands tighten on the bed, sharp claws piercing the fabric. (you’d make him replace it for sure, jerk). Without much warning, he starts his pace again, his thrusts nearly brutal. His grunts and murmuring start up again, and it’s only moments before you feel him twitch, and then heat filling you. He curls around you, head pressed between your shoulder blades.
You stay sitting like that for a few minutes, before he slowly extricates himself from around you and pulls his cock from your slick entrance. When he returns with a warm, damp rag and cleans you up, you refuse to make eye contact. When he picks up the dirty sheets, and bring you clean ones, you stare at the floor. It’s when he brings you water, and tucks you into bed, you finally look up at him.
“I hate you,” you tell him.
His face is neutral, and he nods. “I know.”
“This changes nothing,” you say.
And he nods, letting his normal smile pop back on his face. “I know.”
Hi, please let me know how this was? I'm really awkward about this kind of stuff, and it makes me a tiny bit anxious. Anyways! I hope you liked it. Should I add an 18+ taglist? Also, I have a few asks and stuff that will be posted soon. House hunting has been going terribly. The market is awful, and I am just sad :(
#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor fanfiction#Literal Hate Fuck#BEGRUDGINGLY TAKING THE DEER DICK#God and he speacks French AAAAAAAH
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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
☒ Summary: The Radio Demon proves to be quite a doting husband as he and his doe expierence many firsts together. Exploring his softer sides, may bring out a more posessive side of Alastor in the process.
☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, doe!reader, the reader is shorter than al, implied size difference, soft!alastor, posessive!alastor, lots of tooth rotting fluff, sexual themes but i wouldn't consider this smut, first times, alastor in a rut, knotting, breeding, pregnacy, many domestic moments between reader and alastor
☒ Word Count: 2,337
Alastor was drawn to you the moment you crossed paths. The spotted ears planted atop your head, heart-shaped antlers, and a plush tail to match were striking. The Radio Demon hadn't ever seen a fellow deer hybrid in hell until you. But Alastor just knew that he had to have you all to himself.
Since your first meeting, the two of you were inseparable. It didn't take long until you wed, and anyone who dared to try and cozy up to The Radio Demon's darling doe joined his next broadcast. Alastor was insanely possessive of you. He always had you tucked underneath his arm, crimson eyes following your every move. The only time they weren't on you, was when The Radio Demon was busy... taking care of business.
You were timid and pure. Alastor had no clue how you even ended up in hell. Surely, the gods were mistaken by not taking you. But alas, that softness you carried only made The Radio Demon's obsession for you all the more extreme. You were his weak spot, his darling wife. The love of his afterlife.
You adored waking up next to Alastor each morning. He didn't rest often but snuggled into you each night to appease you. Which just made your heart flutter with delight. The only time you awoke to an empty bed, was when your husband slipped away to make breakfast for you.
For the most part, you would sleepily wobble into the kitchen. Wrapping your arms around Alastor's waist from behind while he cooked his heart out. Alastor would hum a soft tune while he finished making your breakfast. Reveling in the warmth his cute wife emitted.
The Radio Demon would often spin on his heel. Encircling his large palms around your waist. He loved lifting you, so the tips of your toes planted flat against the top of his shoes as he spun you around the kitchen. Your laughter and his singing filled the sacred space you shared. You may have been in hell, but anywhere you were with Alastor was heavenly.
Alastor never failed to notice how flustered you got as you gazed up at him. The man was over seven feet tall, so typically, he was taller than most. However, you were adorably short in comparison. His hands blanketed yours entirely. Alastor absolutely loved to bend down before you. Treasuring how your ears tipped back coyly as he met you at eye level. You were so easy to read. You couldn't hide anything from your husband. Even if you tried.
You came to notice that physical touch wasn't something Alastor particularly liked. Except when it came to you. Your husband was constantly all over you. Holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap anytime he sat down. You name it. Knowing that you were the only exception made you feel special.
But even still, you never pushed the matter. If anything, you waited for Alastor to initiate the physical intimacy, which happened more frequently than one might think- considering The Radio Demon's reputation.
Sex wasn't something you discussed much at the beginning of your relationship. Alastor briefly mentioned that he never desired such things when he was alive. But once he became a demon, a deer hybrid at that- he started experiencing ruts. He explained that he would usually tuck away from the world until his rut passed, but that was as far as the conversation went. Relief washed over you, knowing that you weren't alone in that aspect. Your periods of estrus always made you feel shameful but, most of all... unbearably needy.
Alastor prided himself on knowing that he was a man of great composure. However, when his routine rut hit after you both had tied the knot- he expected to be able to control his urges. But that proved to be impossible for The Radio Demon. At the start of his rut, he kept his distance. Avoiding all physical contact with you. Naturally, you understood and tried to support him the best you could from afar.
But it didn't take long for Alastor's poise to completely crumble. Your scent was all over your shared home, and any glimpse of you had him throbbing in his pants.
Before you knew it, your husband was on you. Nipping and kissing up the expanse of your throat. Grumbling and groaning against your neck, begging you to help in through his heat. Your body trembled with need as Alastor's hands roamed along your frame in a way he never had before.
His touches were prompt, frantic, and perverse. You wouldn't dream of denying your darling husband during his time of need. Knowing that Alastor would be your first and last lover; as you would be his, sent your heart pounding against your ribcage.
As desperate as your husband was for release, his touch was undoubtedly gentle. Alastor was slow to undress you, laying you flat atop your shared bed. He placed chaste kisses on every square inch of your skin, making your ears twitch with delight. Your husband whispered sweet nothings into your skin as he worked a finger into your tight heat for the very first time.
Alastor's deft digit stretched you out slowly. The copious amount of slick dripping down your thighs made it easy for him to add another finger. You were on cloud nine being touched by your darling husband in such a way. You could feel the need he had for you, and it only added to the pleasure.
Your husband was a bit hesitant the first time he pushed himself inside your welcoming walls. His hands were trembling around your waist as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. You could tell he was unfamiliar with such things; it was endearing. Alastor's face loomed over yours as he beckoned into you slowly. He gazed down at you with so much adoration as he succumbed to pleasure.
You didn't fail to notice the tears of merriment trickling down Alastor's flush cheeks as his pace quickened. Carefully, you wiped them away. Moaning in pure ecstasy as you and your husband reveled in the unforgettable moment you shared. A gasp escaped you as you felt him begin to swell from deep within you.
From the look on Alastor's face, you could tell he was just as perplexed as you were. The base of your lover's length swelled so much, that he could hardly pull back. You were quite literally stuck together. It didn't take long for you to understand what had happened once Alastor released his seed deep inside you.
The feeling of your husband being so close, enveloping and marking you as his, pushed you over the edge. Once Alastor's knot deflated inside you, finally allowing him to slip out of your heat, his eyes averted from yours. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he attempted to regain his composure.
Slowly, he explained that he had no clue that he was capable of knotting until only moments ago. You couldn't help but flush as you admitted to liking it more than you probably should have. Your confession unlocked something from deep inside your husband's psyche. Safe to say that you both shared a long night of exploring one another's pleasures and eccentricities.
Your husband began craving you sexually even when he wasn't in a rut after your first night together. Alastor seemed to have developed a fixation with breeding you, which you weren't opposed to. The thought of starting a family with your doting husband plagued your mind often.
So it wasn't a massive surprise to you when you discovered you were pregnant only a couple months later. When you broke the news to Alastor, he was elated. Your husband lifted you in his arms, spinning you around the kitchen as you both grinned brightly. Alastor wasted no time pitching name ideas for your fawn, melting your heart entirely.
You were about seven months along when your husband informed you of his next prospect at the Hazbin Hotel. Happily, you joined your husband in his endeavor. At first, the people you met who resided at the hotel didn't believe you were Alastor's spouse. For crying out loud, he was the infamous Radio Demon. The ruthless overlord that moved up the ranks faster than ever before.
But to you, he was simply the doting husband that took pride in loving you. Who rubbed your feet from how much they swelled during your pregnancy. The man who hummed his favorite tunes to you as you dozed off each night, caressing your ears lovingly in the process.
It took a good while but over time you developed a good relationship with the residents. Charlie was so caring and helpful. She did tons of research on pregnancy to be able to aid you. The Princess of Hell loved rubbing your belly, feeling the little kicks, and humming happy songs to your little fawn.
Vaggie was overly protective of you. Not to Alastor's level- but certainly up there. She acted like your bodyguard at times, even in the safety of your and Alastor's room. It made you giggle, but you appreciated it nonetheless.
Angel was a hoot. At first, he would ask you indecent questions about your and Alastor's sex life. But Husk always put him in his place at times like that. Eventually, Angel became somewhat of a brother to you. He and Fat Nuggets would sit on your bed with you late at night while Alastor worked in his radio tower. Angel would put on all the best rom-com movies, laughing and crying alongside you.
You knew Husk beforehand, having a civil relationship for the most part. But as more time passed at the hotel, he began to warm up to you. If anything, Husk feared for you. He didn't like Alastor in the slightest- and he didn't want you to get caught in The Radio Demon's crossfire. So he kept a watchful gaze on you, especially now that you were pregnant.
A small smile etched into your features as you heard the bedroom door swing open. Alastor was home early, something that didn't happen often. You sunk lower into your bubble bath, letting a soft sigh escape you as your husband's footsteps got louder. A moment later, the bathroom door swung open. Revealing the one and only; Alastor.
"How is my darling doe and fawn doing on this wonderful evening?" Alastor boomed, approaching the tub swiftly. Wasting no time kneeling beside the tub. You giggled as your husband slipped his gloves off, dunking his palms beneath the water to caress your plump belly.
"Hmm, better now that you're here," You whispered. Rubbing your palms over the back of his hands. Alastor craned his neck, giving you a chaste kiss. You couldn't help but smile against your lover's lips as your little fawn kicked right at that very moment. "See! Our little one is happy too, now that daddy's here."
Alastor gazed at you with much adoration as he felt another kick, further solidifying your words. "Well, in that case! I suppose I should strive to get home earlier from now on, hm?" Your husband remarked, slowly pulling his hands from the tub. Alastor didn't miss a beat as he grabbed a washcloth. Lathering it up with your favorite soap before dipping his hands below the water once more.
"Miss falling asleep next to you, Al," You sighed, eyes fluttering shut as your husband washed you. Alastor was so gentle as he scrubbed you clean. Making sure to massage your sore muscles in the process. "I know, my dear, I know." He cooed. Humming a gentle tune as he slid behind you from outside the tub. Working the knots out of your tense shoulders.
"Our little fawn will be here soon... you nervous?" You asked softly, letting out a pleasant hum as Alastor massaged your back. His lips ghosted along the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Quite the contrary, my darling! I'm over the moon with excitement. I simply cannot wait to meet our little one."
Alastor's words caused your heart to flutter against your ribcage. You were the nervous one. You just hoped your child would be happy and healthy. "Don't worry your pretty little head, my dear! Our fawn is in good hands. Don't you see how much the patrons here adore you and our unborn child?"
Your husband always knew when you were nervous. It was as if he could read your mind. The sound of the soapy water sinking down the drain caused your eyes to flutter open. Alastor now stood with a towel outstretched in his arms. He beckoned you toward him, wrapping you in his arms as you stepped out of the tub. Your tail wagged with joy as your husband dried you off.
"You're right... thanks for reminding me, my love," You smiled, tilting your face up against your husband's chest. Alastor took the hint, craning his neck to press his lips against yours. The kiss was warm and loving. Making you feel safe in his embrace. "No need to thank me, my dear! Come now, let's get you tucked in."
You squealed as your husband scooped you in his arms. Carrying you bridal style toward your shared bed. Alastor softly placed you under the duvet, wasting no time getting you warm and cozy in one of his button-up shirts. It smelled just like him, your favorite scent. Your husband stealthily removed his overcoat and shoes before making himself comfortable beneath the sheets.
Alastor cuddled up into your backside, wrapping his slender arms around your waist. He caressed your tummy lovingly as he kissed the top of your head, pulling your back flush against his chest. "There, now my darlings are ready to rest!" Your husband quipped, allowing his droopy eyelids to flutter shut. All you could do was hum in agreement as sleep overtook you. "Night, Al... love you..."
"I love you more, my dear."
tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim
comment if you're intrested in being added to the taglist^^
#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel smut#alastor smut#alastor x you#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor imagine#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x y/n#hazbin hotel fluff#alastor fluff#alastor the radio demon
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sharing = caring [p.js | s.jy]
Jake thought he could get away with purchasing your panties off of your brother without anyone knowing. Unfortunately, the dorm life, where Jay exists literally three feet away from him at all times makes that impossible. or the one where jake tries to jerk it while his roommate is sleeping and jay just wants him to share a lil bit of what he has hidden under his pillow
minors dni! | requested by anonymous
WORDCOUNT― 1.2k
PAIRING― jake x jay x reader's panties
WARNINGS ― both jake and jay are fucking weirdos. bisexual jay. jake is just horny so he's like "well, ok i guess"
NOTE― tumblr hasn't been letting me post longer drabbles as an ask, so to the anon who sent me this idea, ur brain. mwah.
smut tags under cut::
smut tags― masturbation, panty sucking, kind of guys kissing, cum, moaning, purchasing of panties lol
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Where did you get those?”
Jay stares forward at his roommate, narrowing his eyes for a moment in realization.
“Found them.” Jake shrugs, trying to hide the item crumpled in his fingers, shoving them quickly into his pocket as if it would keep Jay from asking any more questions.
Unfortunately, Jay knows what those are, and knows who they belong to. He saw that fucking instagram post. Jake saw it too, Jay saw his bitch ass like the picture as soon as it was posted.
It was a photo of you alongside your friends. You hadn’t noticed at the time the image was posted, and god, fuck, Jay wishes you never found out because the whole post was deleted shortly after. It was a panty shot, you sitting there on the front steps of a bar alongside your friends. If you zoomed in on the photo, because let’s be honest, Jay always zoomed in, you could see it. You could see your panties.
An accidental panty shot.
So, Jake would be out of his fucking mind to think Jay doesn’t know what those are. What he wants to know is how the fuck he got his hands on them.
Jake awkwardly stands, almost like a deer in headlights as Jay closes in on him, furrowing his brows and glaring at him.
“Jake.” Jay warns him with a deeper tone, “Where the fuck did you get those?”
Jake, famously bad at telling lies, stiffens up before dropping his shoulders entirely.
“I paid her little brother for them.”
Jay lends him a look of disgust. Not because he thinks it’s weird, but more so because why the fuck didn’t he think of that first?”
“Bro…” Jay trails off, wanting to reach into Jake’s pocket and grab them himself, but he relents...for now. “How much did you pay for them?”
What Jake thought would be a scolding session, or like, a life long reason to mock and make fun of him turns out to be…oh. Now, hold on.
“Wait–” He takes a step back, raising a brow. “Why do you care?”
“Are they dirty?” Jay continues to question. “What do they smell like?”
Then, silence as the realization hits them both.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Well.
Jake expected to spend his first night with these panties alone, but it seems like Jay isn’t willing to let him out of his sight with them. Weird, absolute freak behavior, but he gets it.
He’d probably do the same if he noticed Jay twirling your panties in his hands too. Still, he’s been dying to jerk off since he got the first whiff of them.
Yes, they’re dirty.
He didn’t pay $200 for nothing. And your brother drives a hard bargain. Jake seriously almost dipped into his saving because the fucker wanted more for them. Fucking pervert, selling his sister’s panties to make an extra buck.
Whatever.
The issue now is the fact that Jay just lingers.
“Weren’t you supposed to go to work tonight?” Jake groans, hating the dorm life and despising the lack of jerking off he’s been able to do with a roommate so close.
“I called in.” Jay deadpans, rolling over on his bed and acting like he’s going to go to sleep.
Jake leaves it at that, rolling his eyes in a huff and flopping down on his own bed.
An hour goes by in silence.
Two hours.
Jake’s eyes are bloodshot by this point because he really is sleepy. He’s got class at eight tomorrow morning, after all. Thankfully, he can tell Jay is asleep by now. Which means…
He’s as quiet as he can be when he reaches under his pillow, nearly moaning at the feeling of the panties against his fingertips alone. He’s lucky Jay didn’t see him stuff them under here, because for a second he was almost worried they’d be nowhere to be found once he finally got to do this.
And so, silently still, he grabs them and gently lays them across his nose, inhaling deeply before sliding his hand down and into his sweatpants.
He breathes the scent of you in, imagining all sorts of things until he’s working up a sweat trying to hold in his silence. Even if he were being loud, he wouldn’t know it, his ears have been ringing since the first touch of his cock, if he’s being totally honest.
They’re ringing so loudly, and his eyes are shut so tightly that he doesn’t even notice Jay getting out of bed and standing in front of him. He only realizes when the scent of you is suddenly gone and a waft of fresh air fills his lungs instead.
His abs flex as he opens his eyes in a frustrated groan before he’s ripping his hand from his pants and trying to snatch the beloved item back.
“What the fuck?!” Jake grips, not even hiding how hard he is before lifting himself from his bed, onto his knees to try and grab at Jay’s arm.
Jay, already lost in the sauce much like Jake was previously, will be damned to hand them over so easily. So, he presses his two fingers into the seat of the panties and sucks them into his mouth.
Jake nearly sees red at that.
“I paid for those.” He seethes out this time, cock jumping unintentionally at the way Jay’s other hand is blatantly down his own pants, unashamed, right there in front of him.
“We can’t share?” Jay mumbles from around the panties, leaving the fabric in place while pulling his fingers out, reaching for Jake’s arm to pull him even closer.
All Jake can do is follow the grip on him in shock, unsure of what to do but fuck, he was so close already. Jay seems weirdly okay with this…why can’t he?
“Have you not tasted her yet?” Jay mumbles again, rolling his eyes back briefly when he flicks his wrist against the head of his cock.
Jake wouldn’t know what’s going through his mind even if you tortured him to say it. Genuinely, there is no excuse for him to lean forward like this, chasing the scent of your panties right up against his own room mate’s mouth. He tries to save himself from crossing that line by trying to tug them out with a gentle pull, but it doesn’t work. Why doesn’t it work?
Because Jay closes the distance for him. Not kissing him, but lying his lips against Jake’s with the panties acting as a barrier. And then? He presses his tongue out, as if giving the panties back to Jake through a kiss.
Jake moans when he slightly pulls back, hesitating as he moves his hand down his own pants again. Unsure if he’s moaning for the taste of you, the intense arousal in his gut, or, well, being kind of kissed when he like, really really needs it. Jay or not, human contact is human contact when he's this fucking turned on.
Already, Jay is close with the remnant of your pussy on his tongue, but opening his eyes and seeing Jake act just as insane as he does– he can’t help it. There’s something about the taboo nature of it. The way Jake paid for panties from a girl who barely knows either of them. The way he started loudly jerking off as if Jay wasn’t three feet away from him before. The way he flushed while watching Jay try and get some of it too, jerking himself off in the open like that.
The way Jake just..stays here, inches from his face and cums against his sweat pants with a broken moan, drooling all over the panties.
It’s not that his roommate turns him on or anything. Honestly, Jay could give less of a shit about Jake in terms of sexuality but that moan. So broken, so desperate. He couldn’t help himself, reaching and tearing the panties out of Jake’s slack mouth as he releases, just to shove them down his own pants, cumming all into the fabric to not only the taste, scent, and feeling of your panties, but the sound of Jake whimpering at the loss.
#enhypen smut#park jongseong smut#sim jaeyun smut#jake smut#jay smut#jake sim smut#jay park smut#enhypen hard hours
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in a thousand lifetimes
pairing : choi seungcheol x gn!reader
hurt / comfort , angst , mafia leader!scoups au
warnings : language , descriptions of blood , mafia themes
word count : 3.5 k
requested ? no
a/n : there's just something about the domestic side of mafia au's that i just love so dearly . secretly soft and fragile mafia leader crying in the arms of their loved one >>>>>>> ruthless and cold mafia leaders .
The day you stood by Seungcheol at the altar, you promised a myriad of unconditional vows, as did he. For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health— until death do you part. To love him without doubt and cherish the heart he had so willingly placed in your care. You swore to cradle it with gentle hands; to keep it safe from shattering until the very last beat.
You were prepared for that. Excited, even.
But as Seungcheol limps through the entrance of the home you've built together, you feel your confidence in that pact falter for the first time. Perhaps you'd missed something in your vows. The part that told you what to do when the love of your life comes home stained in red. From his white button-up to his polished shoes— even his sweet, sweet face— tarnished.
You don't want him to hear the way your voice trembles. But God, that stench. That pungent scent of iron coats your throat and you can't help the way it constricts to keep the subsequent wave of nausea at bay.
"Cheol?"
His head snaps up at you like he's just now realized where he is. Glazed-over eyes connect with the wood floors you'd spent an hour mopping, then to his shaking hands painted in crimson, before that stale gaze finally lifts and meets your own.
"Are you hurt?"
He shakes his head.
"Seungcheol..." You take cautious steps his way, like how one would approach a wild deer. "Who's blood is this?"
Tears are in his eyes, but his face remains rigid. Like his brain is stuck in survival mode, but his emotions are leaking out.
"Chan's."
The boy's name hits your ears like venom. Sweet, gentle, kind, Lee Chan. The youngest intern under Seungcheol's leadership, you'd met him once at a company dinner. You don't think you've ever met someone with such a heart of gold. And it's a little hard to imagine you could be staring at all that's left of him. "Oh my God, is he okay? What happened?"
Seungcheol's face twists at your questions, some memory pulling at his brows and forcing his eyes shut. They open with fresh tears and the first ounce of clarity cracks through his otherwise dazed state.
"He's in the hospital—" You see the words catch in his throat. His fist repeatedly pounds against his thigh and his mouth hangs open until the words finally come. "It's my fault. He's just a kid, this is all my fault— he shouldn't have been there. They shouldn't have been able to get to him. It was too dangerous, he wasn't ready."
Nothing of his fragmented words makes any sort of sense. You've never seen him like this, so frazzled, so pitiful, so... broken. The sight of it twists your heart, contorting in your chest to such an unnatural degree there's a physical ache.
So, despite the nausea burning your esophagus and the screams of protest deep within your bones, your arms open and gravity pulls Seungcheol into them with labored steps. His knees buckle instantly at the contact and it takes every ounce of strength in your arms to catch him. Letting yourself sink with him to soften the fall; even if that means your knees land with a painful thud, already able to feel purple bruises blossoming from the impact.
Because you love him.
Because you vowed not only for better but for worse as well. And vows are only as good as the turmoils they prove to withstand.
Calloused hands grip the sides of your shirt. You try to ignore the stains they leave, pushing your focus onto the man before you on the brink of hysterics. His forehead falls to your chest, and that's when the most wretched sobs you've ever had the displeasure of hearing begin. Loud and sharp, like the blade of a sword, as they slice through the eerily still night.
A chill creeps in from where your knees connect with the hardwood and crawls up the length of your spine. It nests in your mind and metastasizes, igniting alarms in that little part of your brain that warns: you should be scared. Though it doesn't grant you the knowledge of what.
"Baby, what happened?" You ask and recite a silent prayer the answer to that is not him.
He sobs out an unpromising, "I can't."
"Seungcheol, there is too much blood for that shit. You need to tell me what the hell is going on." Your eyes are starting to burn with the flood breaching your lashes, unsure how much longer you can force an ease into your tone.
You need him to just spit it out. Before your heart explodes.
You steady his head between your palms and swipe at the blood spatter decorating his jawline. It just smears, mixing with his tears and tinting more of his cheek in a dull brownish-red. Seungcheol looks at you with eyes that scream please don't hate me and you don't know but... you know. Enough that when the confession finally pours from his lips, the shock doesn't totally shatter your ribs on impact. Instead, the words slowly seep into your skin and enter your bloodstream like a bitter poison.
Suddenly, minuscule details make much more sense, revealing the full picture like a jigsaw puzzle falling into place. The nights he doesn't return until the sun breaches the horizon. The general air of mystery around his job and the "family business" he took over years ago. How insistent he had been with you learning some type of self-defense. All the way down to the dried blood that lingered under his fingernails.
You should be levels more upset than you are at his confession. Any normal person would be. He lied to you, for years. Hid a secret so large it could easily blow a crater in the earth should the measly stilts it balanced on collapse. Yet, the anger you feel doesn't boil over into a blind rage. It stirs with concern and simmers until it has been diluted into nothing but the type of anger that can only be fueled by love. It comes with the terrifying revelation that the person you love most in this world, could've been stolen from you at any moment and you would've been none the wiser as to how. It makes you want to hold him a little extra in the mornings, a little harder, closer.
Then, somewhere, in that tangled web of emotions fighting to reach the surface, there's an unexpected relief. Because one thing has been glaringly obvious since the day you met Choi Seungcheol. The reason he appears as such a pillar of strength relies solely on the fact that he shoulders the weight of the world alone. Rarely does he let his struggles reach his cheery expression. You can't help but think, now that you know, there's one less burden he has to carry by himself.
"Please don't leave me," Seungcheol rasps out. You'd nearly forgotten where you were for a moment. Forgot his face was still between your hands, that blood still smeared his cheek, and tears were still slipping from his lashes. But at this moment, as those weary earth-brown eyes search your face for an answer, you realize just how malleable your morals are when it comes to him.
"I love you." You confess, like it's the first time the phrase has ever left your lips. "Cheol, I love you more than anything in this world." So much it frightens you what you're willing to forgive.
But then again it doesn't. Because he's never been Choi Seungcheol, the city's most feared mob boss. To you, he's always just been Cheol. The man that nearly burned your kitchen down two anniversaries ago trying to make you breakfast in bed. Who pouts and whines when you haven't given him enough attention after work. Who's touch has only ever been as gentle as a Summer's breeze. And maybe you're naive, but you'd like to believe the Seungcheol that peppers your face with kisses every morning and begs for five extra minutes in bed is a truer reflection of his heart than his job.
With one final deep breath to steel your nerves and silence the brigade of questions swirling in your head, you press a long kiss to his temple— one of the only areas not tainted with red. The tension in his muscles visibly melts away at the contact and beyond anything he just looks... tired. You want nothing more than to let him rest in the safety of your arms, but he's still covered in Chan's blood.
"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" You coax him from the floor, never once letting your voice slip above a gentle whisper. He tries to protest, insisting he needs to be at the hospital with the others to check on Chan, but puts up absolutely no fight when you tell him that can wait until tomorrow as you guide him towards the bathroom.
You gather towels and fresh clothes and lay them out on the vanity. "Take your time, okay? I won't go far, promise." With one last reassurance, you leave Seungcheol in privacy to shower and clean the blood from his skin.
Alone now, the adrenaline in your veins dissolves, and the full gravity of everything finally crashes around you. The metallic scent lingering in the air, the drying blood on the hardwood, the feeling of impending doom that comes with a truth so heavy. It's too much, at least to bear in such a tiny apartment. You all but sprint out the front door, accidentally letting it shut with a hefty slam.
The warm Summer night air hits your skin and wraps around you like a security blanket. You inhale deeply, once, twice, thrice, and on the fourth breath, it feels like the oxygen finally reaches the base of your lungs.
You sit, for a length of time you remain ignorant to, at the bottom of the stairwell. Lost deep in thought until the buzzing of your phone reverberates from your back pocket. You look at it but— no caller I.D.
Answering it anyway, a sense of comfort fills you at the familiar voice.
"Jeonghan." You greet.
"I'm sorry to call so late," He says, voice languid. "I just wanted to know if Seungcheol got home safe yet."
"He did."
There's a long pause of silence. Just the steady beeps of a heart monitor on the other side of the line. Then, "Is Chan okay?"
"Yeah, he's sleeping right now. Doctors gave him some of the good shit to knock him out for the night." There's a hesitance to the way he speaks and you think perhaps he's weighing in his mind what excuse Seungcheol might have told you as to why Chan is even in the hospital to begin with.
"Jeonghan, can I ask you something?"
"I can't promise I'll have an answer, but sure." He's always been so calculated in the way he speaks, which makes sense to you now.
You chew at the inside of your cheek. "Seungcheol, he... He keeps himself safe, right?"
"You know." He sighs, matter of fact.
"I do."
"He's careful, smart, keeps his hands clean-ish. We all look after each other, he's about as safe as he can be." The man on the other end of the line yawns, and you wonder how long he's been up wondering if Seungcheol made it home before he finally called. That in and of itself should comfort you and prove Seungcheol has people who care about him when you're not around, but it doesn't. You don't think anything ever could at this point. Perhaps it was better not knowing the truth.
"That doesn't exactly make me feel better."
Jeonghan snorts. "I didn't think it would."
Another stretch of silence spans over the line for an uncomfortably long time. So long, you begin to think maybe the call disconnected. But that steady beeping is still there, quiet, but there.
Then Jeonghan speaks, his sudden words sending ice pricking through your veins. "You're an accomplice now, you know?" His voice carries no emotion. It's as if he's reading the words straight from an instruction manual. "Unless, of course, you turn him in."
Oh.
You hadn't thought of that.
"Would you?"
His question lingers in the air like smoke, suffocating your airways so much it feels like you might choke before you can even answer.
Never has the idea of betraying Seungcheol's trust ever been a thought in your head, much less an option. But he's right. Your newfound knowledge makes you just as much a criminal in the eyes of the law as if you had committed the act yourself. It's either fess up while you still can or guard his secret with, quite literally, your life.
Perhaps you were a bit hasty. It was easy to hold Seungcheol in your arms and whisper comforting words between his sobs. However, when it comes to your own fate, you're forced to reckon with the dread that washes over you like a bucket of ice, alone.
Still, you're embarrassed that not even a shred of doubt weighs your decision. Just an immeasurable amount of guilt.
"No."
"You don't sound so sure."
"It's a lot to process." You defend, trying not to let your voice waver too much under Jeonghan's scrutiny.
"I know it is," He relents, and suddenly, his voice shifts back to the soothing, angelic tone you've always been used to. "I'm sorry, I haven't even asked how you're feeling."
The conversation lulls in what you assume is Jeonghan leaving space for you to share if so you wish. You don't— knowing that if you were to loosen even a single thread tethering your mind in the realm of sanity, it would all unravel. You've only just begun to construct the brittle wall that separates your Seungcheol from the one covered in blood. If it were to take a blow so early and come crumbling down, you fear you may not have the strength needed to start over.
Your current position is precarious and emotions are already tricky— pouring them out to Seungcheol's best friend even more so.
"I'm fine. I should probably get back to Cheol." You say instead.
Jeonghan hums. "He's had a rough night." Steady beeps still pulse like a metronome in the background, mixing with a subtle chatter. "Let him know everyone is okay and if you two need anything, just call."
"I'll tell him."
"That means you too."
A voice calls Jeonghan's name and the line goes dead before you can say anything more. Not that you had much else left to say— or anything that would be news to Jeonghan at least. It felt like he knew more about your spinning mind in one phone call than you'd pieced together since Seungcheol stumbled through the door.
Seungcheol.
Seungcheol, who's been alone in your tiny apartment for who knows how long at this point. With nothing but his thoughts and a water heater that runs out far too quickly to comfort him. Your heart aches at the idea of him crumpled up in the basin of the porcelain tub alone.
Seungcheol, whom you find sitting at the kitchen island with his head in his hands— hunched over a steaming mug of tea— upon your return. His hair hangs down in damp strings, dripping onto his pair of comfort sweatpants, the ones he tends to gravitate towards when he's had a long day.
The door clicks shut behind you and his head snaps up with lightning quick reflexes. A wild look flashes in his eyes, but it melts away almost as quick as it came. His shoulders slump with relief and for what seems like an eternity, he just let's his gaze linger.
"I didn't think you were coming back." He rasps. His fingers curl around the mug, siphoning off some of its warmth to combat the slight chill in the air.
His hands are clean now— free of any trace of dark red— then again, they never really were. Probably never will be.
"To be honest, I wasn't completely sure I was." You're still some distance away from where he sits, a fact you're made painfully aware of by the way his eyes flit between you and the door. As if he expects you to flee at any moment.
"I would understand, you know?" His voice is as soft and genuine as it was the day he said I do. "I wouldn't be mad. My job, this life, it was never supposed to be your burden. You can walk out and I wouldn't—" His voice catches and he takes a swig of his tea, cringing at the temperature as it goes down. "—I wouldn't stop you."
You know he wouldn't. Because Choi Seungcheol is a good man. There would not be a ring on your finger if he wasn't. It's why you're so comfortable closing the distance that separates you two.
It's why you're so comfortable excusing all of his wrongs.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"You should." He croaks. Tears gather at his waterline and on instinct, you wipe the first to fall away. But more continue to silently slip down his cheeks. Unable to catch them fast enough, you step between his legs and guide his forehead to your shoulder with a gentle hand on the back of his neck.
Seungcheol lets out a shaky breath as your fingers trail down the nape of his neck to just between his shoulders, then back up again. You hold him. Just as you've held his heart for years. Delicate. Like handling glass.
"I love you," He whispers. "I'm sorry I lied, I— all I ever wanted was to keep you safe."
"I know."
He tilts his head back, staring up at you with damp cheeks and bloodshot eyes. "I don't deserve you."
You tuck a piece of hair that's fallen into his eye behind his ear. "I could find you in a thousand lifetimes and there wouldn't be a single one where that'd be true."
"I'd still spend every one of those thousand lifetimes making it up to you." His hands grip your hips, holding you steady, as if he's still scared you'll run away.
"You." You hold the underside of his chin so he can't divert his gaze for your next words. Your tone is a firm, bordering on authoritative. "Make it up to me by coming home."
Seungcheol nods, but it's not a good enough answer for you.
"Don't ever make me plan your funeral, Choi Seungcheol. Do you understand? You cannot do that to me."
"I won't."
"Promise me. Because I swear if I ever have to hear from Jeonghan that you're not coming home I swear I'll—"
Seungcheol takes your hand from his chin and pulls it flat against his chest. The quick but rhythmic beats of his heart calms your barrage of threats instantaneously.
"I promise."
The words leave his lips slowly. Each syllable is enunciated loud and clear, so the sincerity with which he says them can reach your ears without doubt. His words linger in the air and all you can focus on is his pulse. How terrified you are that one day it'll stop before your own. That there could come a night where your head rests against empty sheets instead of his chest. No longer lulled to sleep by its steady beating.
That thought rattles you more than any crime Seungcheol could commit.
It takes Seungcheol's thumb grazing over your cheekbone to realize you're crying. But then it becomes unstoppable. More worries spilling out in the form of tears. It's the not knowing that may be the end of you.
"I want you in this lifetime, Cheol. I don't want to wait until the next to live a full life with you. So I need you to keep that promise."
Seungcheol rises from his seat and brings you into his chest. Allowing you to hide away from the horrors of it all in his strong embrace. "There's nothing I wouldn't do to make it home to you." He reassures. And the sheer determination in his voice makes you believe him.
"And no more secrets, okay?" You mumble against the soft fabric of his shirt. "I want you to tell me everything."
"It's better if I don't." He whispers with a deep exhale. And you want to be more upset with his answer than you are. But he keeps rocking you side to side and pressing long kisses to your temple.
"All you need to know is that none of it comes before you." The sincerity in his voice is as prominent as it was reciting his vows. "Everything I've built. All the money and power in the world— I'd burn it all to the ground for you."
#choi seungcheol#seungcheol#scoups#choi seungcheol x reader#seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#choi seungcheol x you#choi seungcheol fanfic#seungcheol fanfic#seungcheol x you#scoups fanfic#scoups x you#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#seventeen fanfic#seventeen au#seungcheol mafia au#seventeen mafia au#choi seungcheol imagine#seungcheol imagine#scoups imagine#seventeen imagine#seventeen imagines#seventeen angst#choi seungcheol angst#hurt/comfort#seungcheol hurt/comfort#mafia au#seventeen fic
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downtime | logan howlett x reader
summary: logan had been meaning to show you the wooden cabin he'd visit when given the time— he didn't anticipate how enraptured he'd be with the the absence of chaos in his life
cw: slightly suggestive
domesticity looked good on logan in your eyes.
chopping wood for the fire you two would burn at night, making sure the weeds didn't interfere with the tomatoes you had been growing, and sometimes even fishing despite his lack of patience for it. his jeans hung low around his waist, hair speckled across his chest through his open-collared shirt—you had to admit, you liked this side of him. you two had decided you wanted to get away for a while since logan wasn't particularly needed at the moment. he had been wanting to show you the cabin he frequented when he wasn’t busy, daydreaming to himself with the thought of what your reaction would be to it. you weren't surprised at the nature of the wooden cabin. it was secluded and neatly tucked away in a corner of a vast forest that no one would dare to enter unless they were in for a rude awakening. maybe you were kidding yourself with the idea that you two might be able to go off-grid for a while, but it was a thought you both were willing to entertain.
you smiled to yourself as your eyes tore away from the much-welcomed sight of your boyfriend leaning back on the couch, hulking thighs spread as his head lolled back. your attention trailed back to the deer he had caught earlier in hopes you could do something with it. "should i slow-cook it? maybe even make it into a pot roast?" you suddenly spoke up from the kitchen, your lips pursed in thought as a lighthearted scoff left him, his eyebrow quirking up for a moment. "askin' the wrong person. never been known to be much of a chef, sweetheart." he gruffed out, too tired to allow his eyes to roll into the back of his head at the thought of even picking up on anything remotely related to cooking. "mm, you're right," you said through a small chuckle, your eyes still examining the raw meat, "could always just set up the grill out back. chop it up, make 'em into kebabs… but we don't have any skewers. if only there was something that we could use…" you playfully trailed off as you pressed your index finger to your lower lip as if conjuring a thought. logan quickly caught onto the fact that you were talking about using his claws as kebab skewers to which he shook his head in response, shooting you an amused glance.
he rose to his feet, floorboards groaning under his weight with each movement. "ha-ha, you're hilarious. damn near a comedian." he retorted as he made his way to you, placing his empty beer bottle on the counter before his arms wrapped around you, giving you a small squeeze. his front pressed to your back, your heart fluttering at the sudden contact. the contours of his muscles molded into your frame nicely, warmth emanating from him as his breath fanned against the nape of your neck. "well… i was thinking about signing up for the local comedy club. could be my big breakthrough, y'know?" you sighed in faux contemplation as you felt the softness of his lips pepper kisses from your nape to your pulse-point, his hands lingering on your waist. his thumbs found the belt loops in your jeans, tugging on them absentmindedly. "y'right, bet the squirrels and mornin' birds would love to hear the material you been practicin' on me." he murmured into your skin, eyes fluttering shut as he deeply inhaled your scent. seeing as how sensitive he was to scents, there were lots of scents he couldn't stand. hated the smell of gasoline, hated any kind of gaudy perfume— if he thought about it for too long, his nose would probably scrunch up out of disgust. yet he was particularly fond of your scent, fresh linen and cotton. your scent was as pleasing as your personality. you were good for logan. kind, compassionate— you smoothed out his rough edges. god knew he had too many.
domesticity looked good on you in logan's eyes. the wood you'd carry to the fire pit for your late-night chats recounting the events of the day, the tomatoes you'd complain about that wouldn't ripen and sometimes even fall off too early from local wildlife taking their swipes at it, and your insistence on him learning some proper patience for fishing since you still had a taste for wild-caught salmon. his hands found the hem of your flannel, sliding under the fabric as his fingertips grazed the softness of your skin, traveling down past your navel. warmth flooded your cheeks as a sheepish smile played at the corners of your lips, your hands on the counter to brace yourself. "logan— logan! i still have to marinate the meat." you hastily whispered before a breathy moan escaped you as his tongue rolled over your skin, teeth nipping at the crook of your neck. "mmm, don't worry 'bout it." he spoke into your neck before gently lifting you onto the counter, his eyes filled with affection. he didn't know how it happened, honestly. couldn't pinpoint it even if he tried to recall what you did that caused him to be so smitten with you. he quietly admired you for a few moments, taking in how hues of orange from the sun setting filtered through the window and cascaded onto the side of your face, his hand raising to cup the swell of your cheek. you didn't know it, but logan had made a quiet vow to himself to do everything in his power to make sure you were safe, in this life and the next.
he'd show you tonight how much he adored you, in more ways than just one.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine#james logan howlett#james logan howlett x reader#xmen x reader#logan howlett x you#x men#wolverine x you#wolverine xmen
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Heart Of Texas - J.Seresin
Synopsis: While in Texas for your best friends bachelorette trip, the last thing you expect to find is the green eyed cowboy in the bar. Or to find him again months later.
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader.
Warnings: 18+, swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of the deed, soft jake(warning in himself really) , uh drunk marriage? not sure what to label that.
Authors Note: hi! i'm alive! I have had this draft for... MONTHS! I have not had much motiviation but upon it being hot glen summer. I'm here with my favorite green eyed boo.
The sun was shining bright through the soft gray curtains, causing you to squint. The silk sheets were soft against your skin. Rolling over in the King sized bed, you groan.
A night of bar hopping in the heart of Austin was probably not the smartest idea but the bride to be got what she wanted for her bachelorette party, her words playing on loop,
“I want to go to Austin and have a good time before I’m a married woman” .
The groan beside you pulls you from your thoughts, looking over beside you, gasping. You pull the sheet to cover your body, pulling yourself away from him and against the wall. “Oh my god” you whisper with a shake of your head.
Moving further against the wall and away from the man as he slowly woke up. Looking him up and down you take him in, he was tall, his feet hung off the bed slightly. His tanned skin and the small freckles adorned his chest, soft blonde hairs residing there. Once he opens his eyes, you note the soft green of his irises.
“What the hell?” he groans, hand falling to his forehead.
Then he looks over at you. You look like a deer in the headlights looking at him. Under his gaze, you can’t help but to pull the sheet tighter against your chest, less of his body being covered.
“Who are you?!” you whisper-yell. “Uh- My name's Jake” he chuckles, sitting up to push his body against the headboard. “Okay but why are you in my hotel room?” you ask.
He looks around the room, noticing the clothes scattered on the floor. "I think um” he rubs the back of his neck.
“I think we may have slept together Sugar” his drawl was soft, his voice deep and still riddled with sleep.
“I think I can gather that '' you mumble, rubbing your eyes. The coldness of metal against your face pulls your hand away. “Oh-” looking down at your hand, then back at the man in front of you, who you now know is Jake. “what is it?” he asks from the end of the bed, looking back at you over his shoulder.
Holding your left hand up to him, you wiggle the small dainty band on your ring finger.
“Oh shit” his face pales, looking down at his own left hand, a simple band adored his own ring finger. “We’re fucking married” you mumble, pushing the sheet off your body to stand.
Grabbing your panties, you begin to pace the hotel room. “Dude, how the hell did we get married?!” you ask, looking at Jake. He chuckles with a shake of his head, hands on his knees. “FIrst of all, please put your tits away” rolling your eyes, you grab the first shirt in sight, buttoning it to look at him. “Please explain! What do you remember?” with your hands on your hips, he sighs. “Not more than you do,” he admits. “Just fuckin dandy” you mumble, pushing a hand through your hair.
“I must say, I do remember alot of shots, '' he admits, it causes you to chuckle. “I can’t believe this is happening right now” pacing infront of Jake, he sighs. “It’s okay, those marriages are never even legit, not legally” he admits, pulling his boxers on, standing infront of you. Stopping your pacing, he grabs your shoulders. “It’s alright Sugar” he smirks.
Rolling your eyes you push his hand off you. “It’s alright to you..” trailing off, you look at the floor infront of you, “Jake” he hums in response. You pick up the piece of paper infront of you.
“Certficate of Marriage'' you hold it out to him.
“Legally, I am now your wife” he rips the paper out of your hands, looking it over. “Oh shit” he looks back up at you then down to the paper. He goes to speak, knocking on the other side of the door stopping him.
Widening your eyes, looking around the room, you sigh. “Okay big guy” he goes to protest as you shove him into the bathroom quickly shutting the door before he can protest.
As the bathroom door shuts, your hotel room door opens. “Why did I think you should have a key?” you sigh. Your best friends are all making their way into the hotel room.
“Safety, I have all the room keys” Laura, bride to be smirks. She sits down on the bed, looking around the room.
“Are you okay?” she asks, looking at you with a smile. “I’m fine” you are lying through your teeth. “Are you okay?” you look at your best friend Wanda as she has a small smile.
“She texted Bradley at least 200 times last night, they’ve talked twice this morning” Laura says, looking between you and her friend with a deadpan look in her eyes.
“She’s in love” you admit with a grin. “I’m the one getting married!” Laura defends with a laugh. Wanda turns her gaze to you, “How are you standing?” she asks, you raise a brow. “What do you mean?” you ask, “You had a wild night” Allison says from beside you.
“What do you mean?” she chuckles, “you were all over that guy, he was so into you” Jake smirks from behind the door, listening to the conversation between you girls.
"oh really?” you ask as she nods. “I don’t remember his name but you guys hit it off..” she smirks looking around the hotel room. “You slept with him!” Wanda stands, pointing at you. “Okay” holding your hands up in surrender, you look between your group of friends.
“I remember nothing, um” you blush, knowing he had to be listening. “The sex was phenomenal okay?” The room cheers, Jake's smirk grows behind the bathroom door.
“You guys really were all over each other '' Laura nods, grinning. “Here, look'' she's pulling her phone out, showing you the photos. The night coming back to you, one photo at a time.
The music pounded through the speakers of the club. “I can’t believe that in two weeks I’ll be married!” Laura yells beside you, dancing with her own drink in hand. You smirk, sipping from your glass.
“In two weeks time we’ll be looking at Mrs.Machado!” you yell, the rest of the group cheering. “Oh! I love this song! C’mon!” You are pushed out onto the dance floor with your best friends. “Get Low” by lil John played through the speakers, singing loudly as you swayed your hips.
“Ohhhh (Y/N)! He is totally eye-fucking you!” looking over at Wanda, who sends a nod to the tall blonde at the bar. The same blonde who bought the drink you were currently nursing. He winks. Being the only single friend in the group made this a common occurrence.
You smirk, pointing to him as he smirks. Pointing to himself, you nod, motioning him over. Pushing your drink into the hands of poor Allison who was just trying to nurse her own hands.
You take his hand, pulling him away from the group of girls. “You know it’s rude to stare” you smirk, he shrugs, hands on your hips as he pulls you into his chest. Back to his chest, you didn't hesitate to grind your hips against his.
You feel his chest rumble, his chuckle against your ear. “Not that I see you complaining Sugar'' resting your hands on top of his, you continuing to grind against him.
“Neither is he!” you smirk, he couldn’t even be embarrassed as he knew you referring to his hard length that continued to poke your ass.
Laura stopped on the last photo of the two of you, it looked like it was straight from a prono. “Oh” you nod, looking at her with a blush.
“I’m gonna assume that” Allison points at your shirt with a smirk, “is not yours”. The blush now made its way up your cheeks to your ears. “No,” shaking your head, you bite your lip.
“Allison owes me $20” Laura smirks, sitting down on the bed beside your best friends. You gasp, “You placed bets?!” the girls laugh. “I knew you’d go home with him, he couldn’t keep his hands off you” the night was coming back to Jake as he continued to sober up.
“Anyways” Wanda grins, “Get cleaned up and we’ll see you downstairs for brunch in an hour” you nod, smiling. “Okay, I’ll see you guys then” they all send you a wink on their way out of the door, you sigh as the door closes behind them.
“You can come out now” Jake makes his way from the bathroom. “They’re fun,” he smirks. You send him a glare, running a hand through your hair. “Sorry” he smiles. “What are we gonna do?” looking up at him, he can’t help but look you over.
You were gorgeous. The whole reason the night ended the way it did. “Well I have to head back to California in about 4 hours,” he admits, hand on his hips.
“California?” you ask as he nods, looking at you. “We’re from California” he chuckles, a weird coincidence. “Here” he picks his phone up from the floor, holding it out to you.
“Sounds like you will be busy so” he smirks, looking at the deadpand look on your face. “Give me your number and when we both have the time, we can see a lawyer” nodding slowly, you take the phone from his hands. Putting your number in, holding it back out to him.
“I did have a good time, from what I remember” he admits, sending you a quick text so you could save his own phone number. “It was also your idea to get married” gasping, you snap your head up to look at him.
“It was not!” you defend as he shakes his head, pulling his pants on. “It was Sugar” he smirks, hand on his hips.
He stood in just his pants, shirtless in your hotel room. He had a small tattoo on his pec, you just now noticed. “It’s my niece's handwriting,” he admits. You can’t help the smile that makes its way on your lips.
It was the only tattoo Jake Seresin put on his tanned skin.
You are getting yourself dressed, feeling him stare at you. “Can I help you?” he chuckles, “can I have my shirt?” he asks. You blush, unbuttoning the shirt to hold back out to him. “Thanks” you nod, turning back to him as you finish pulling the clothes from the night before back on.
“I’ll give you a call in like, a week or so?” he asks as you nod. “Uh, give me like a month, my best friend get’s married here in a few weeks” he nods, smiling. “No problem, I have a wedding myself” you smile, your own mind drifting to see him in a black tux.
“Okay” he makes his way to the door, “Jake” he stops, looking over his shoulder to you.
“Have a safe flight” he smiles, sending you another wink. “You too”
+
A week later, you received a text from Jake. You never expected to hear from him until he was ready for a lawyer.
UNKOWN: Hey, You make it back okay?
You had to admit, you originally didn’t want to save his phone number, but you decided then, it was best to save it. You had nicknames for everyone, it was a love language for you, Jake getting his own.
You smirk as you save the nickname “Hungman”, for obvious reasons.
YOU: I made it okay, how about you?
He smiled, he didn’t truly expect a response. He also saved a nickname for you in his phone, “Sugar” because you were just so sweet.
“Does it fit?!” Laura is knocking on the door, pushing it open to see you in the Lavendar dress she chose for you. “Oh, (Y/N) you look stunning!” smiling at her in the mirror, turning to face her. “Are you sure?” she nods, helping you out of the room. “I love it” you smile, spinning on the small platform.
The week was leading to wedding preparations for the soon to be Mrs.Machado.
Including dress fittings to be sure the dresses from two months ago still were perfect. “Why are you so smiley?” Allison asks, smirking. You shrug, looking at yourself in the mirror. “I bet she was texting Mr.Texas” Wanda smirks.
The group had given Jake his own nickname. “Jake just texted to make sure we all made it back okay” she coos, “how sweet,he was concerned about you” you smile. Maybe he was, you werent sure.
You didn’t want to look into it too much. The way you didn’t want to just yet take the delicate gold band off your left ring finger. They had yet to notice it, you found no harm in keeping it on for the next week.
“The man, the myth , the legend!” Coyote shouts, standing from the chair at The Hard Deck. Jake smirks, holding his hands out in pride. “I’ve arrived” he chuckles, hugging his best friend. “Did you have a good trip home?” Fanboy asks beside him as he sits down. He thinks back, the gold band sitting against his chest. He didn’t want to destory it with work, opting to put it with his dog tags.
“Of course I did,” he smirks. “Back just in time for the wedding” Javy sits across from him, handing him the beer. “Did you get laid?” Payback lets curiosity get the best of him. “Of course he did” his best friend answers for him, Jake smirks. “Bradshaw!” Jake looks up at the mention of Bradley, smiling at him and then his girlfriend, Wanda. “Sorry guys, I had to go pick her up” he smiles at the redhead beside him. She waves, sitting down beside Javy.
“Hey guys” her smile is warm. Jake knew that her and Bradley were made for the other. “I’ll go get drinks baby, I’ll be back” he kisses her head, walking to the bar. “How was the trip?” Coyote asks, she smirks. “So good! I will be going back to Texas again” she smiles, “I missed Brad though so” Payback gags from his seat.
“Stop” Fanboy slaps him. The group all have significant others except Hangman. Javy had his fiance Laura, Bradley had Wanda and Mickey had Allison. Payback had a girlfriend but it was far from being serious.
Phoenix and Bob both had already been married before even coming back to Top Gun. The group had yet to meet their spouses. “Here baby” Rooster sits back down, looking at the group.
“Cap” he nods to Jake, a smirk on his face as he sips his beer. Captain Jake “Hangman” Seresin. He smirks behind his own beer. “Rooster” Wanda smiles at Hangman and the rest of the aviators.
She’s leaning over beside Javy, showing him pictures of his soon to be wife and her friends. He feels his phone buzz in his pocket. Pulling it out, he can’t help but smile.
Sugar: I found this on my phone, thought you may like it.
Attached was a photo of the two of you, a selfie of cake frosting smeared on both of your faces. He smiles, hearting the photo and saving it to his camera roll.
He didn’t want to admit his “wife” was becoming just that to him.
His wife.
“What’s got you smiling?” Mickey asks, he shrugs. “Is it the girl you slept with?!” Jake sighs, looking at his group of friends. “You slept with somebody?” Rooster asks, as he nods. “I can’t say I’m surprised” he mumbles, Jake sending him a look.
“I did,” he nods, looking at his friends. “And you kept in contact with her?” Javy smirks, looking at his best friend. Well of course I did, we’re married is what he wanted to say, instead he smiles.
“I did,” the group cheers.
“Maybe the hangman is finally getting himself a lady!” he can’t help the blush that makes its way to his ears. The bar began filing in with the rest of the group's spouses, Laura first. “Gentleman” she smiles, sitting down beside Javy. Laura was also a pilot, just now an instructor at Top Gun. Then filed in Allison who sat beside Mickey.
Payback leaving to go pick up his new girlfriend Lily. “I think this is my que to go” Jake sighs, pulling cash from his pocket as he tosses it onto the table. “Oh Hangman” Laura shakes her head, frowning.
“You don’t have to go,” he shakes his head, standing from his seat. “I have some much needed sleep to catch up on” he lies through his teeth. He hated being the odd man out of the group.
He waved goodbye, making his way out of the hard deck, his mind drifting back to you. Pulling the phone from his pocket, he sighs at the text from Javy.
Javy: Don’t let it beat you up man, you will find that someone soon, maybe at the wedding!
The continuous buzzing of your phone causes you to groan.
You knew the minute that group chat was created it was gonna be nothing more than a headache.
Ally: I think (Y/N) should go on a date with Hangman.
Wanz: I agree! The poor guy left because he was the only single one.
Lars: He’s a really down to earth man (Y/N)! Once you get past the cocky exterior.
Y/N: Can you guys not play matchmakers right now? I did really hit it off with Jake, remember?
Ally: He's in Texas ! You never know, your soulmate is right there, in Hangster.
Wanz: Bradley said he really is nice and you guys would be so cute together.
You give up then, muting the notifications and tossing the phone back on the counter beside you. They meant well, knowing you just wanted to get back out there after your break up.
You groan at the buzzing of your phone again, picking it up ready to block whoever's number for the night.
Stopping short at the message, the ellipses follow.
Hungman: Goodnight, Is it weird to text you goodnight?
Another message following
Hungman: Thought that's what married couples do so why not?
You smile. Jake felt his chest tighten, he was thanking whoever above that you had read receipts on.
Sugar: Goodnight Jake, We did drunkenly get married remember? My idea apparently.
A smile on his lips, he replies quickly.
Hungman: I mean, I didn’t have to agree to it. You clearly wanted to marry me though. I mean look at me.
The ellipses follow a few times, going in and out before one final message.
Sugar: I remember now you felt that way about me Mr. ;). Goodnight.
-
The week was over before you could blink. Wedding prep was extremely stressful, in ways that made you happy to just be a bridesmaid.
“(Y/N)!” you fix the skirt on your body as you walk to the table, smiling at the group. “Bradley Bradshaw '' you smirk, kissing his cheek and making it around the table. Hugging the group as you sit down beside Allison and Mickey.
You loved the group of Aviators. Bradley was originally your friend first, then the group followed. “What is that?” Mickey asks, pointing to your hand. You look to where he was pointing, your heart dropped.
In the weeks you had been home from Texas, you did the very most to hide the wedding band. “(Y/N)” Javy’s voice is stern, looking at you with curious eyes. “What?” you say, pulling your hand off the table quickly. He’s faster, reaching over the table to stop you.
“Oh my god!” Wanda sits up in her seat. “You married Mr.Texas didnt you?!” she points, looking between the group. Slouching back in the seat, you pull your hand away from Javy.
“Mr.Texas?” Mickey asks, chuckling. “She met a guy in Texas, they left. I just assumed they slept together but-” Allison smirks, looking at you. “That's where you snuck off to! You guys got married!” She's laughing. “This is not about me” you speak up, looking at Laura. She smiles, winking at you.
“This is about in less than a week, these two” you point to Laura and Javy “will be married!”.
The conversation now shifted to the wedding. You felt your blood pressure finally even out. You knew you should’ve taken the ring off.
In the last two weeks you shared lots of photos and texts with your husband, well Jake. He shared his own photos, asking you about your day. It was all things you were not used to.
Dating in a place so full of Naval Pilots was hard, it was not your type as it was your friends.
Having enough Navy friends, you were shunned off piolts. The group continued mumbling between themselves as you sipped your wine. Your phone then rang, furrowing your brows as you pulled it out.
Why was he calling you? Standing, Bradley notices first. He takes the hand closest to him as you pass. “Where you goin?” he asks, a gentle smile on his face.
“Uh, Jake is calling me, I just want to make sure he’s okay” his brain calculated what you said, before he put together Mr.Texas was Jake. “Okay” he smiles, giving your hand a squeeze.
“I’ll be back” you smile, walking outside quickly. “Hello?” he sighs, “thank god”. You frown, “Jake are you alright?” he smiles.
“Yeah, I just wanted to hear your voice” he admits, you can’t help the smile that grows on your lips.
“You know I am having dinner with my friends tonight” he chuckles. “I know I got the photos you sent, I just- I don’t know I wanted to say hi” he smiles.
He didn’t want to admit that he was starting to feel things for you. “Jake” you chuckle, looking in the window at your friends, none the wiser.
“I just wanted to talk to my wife” your heart starts beating harder in your chest. “You wanted to talk to your wife huh?” he smirks, it sounded even better when it came from your lips. “Yeah, I just want to say” he clears his throat.
“Have a fun evening, please text me once you make it home” you chuckle. “That's very Husband-y of you” he smirks. “I am a husband, your husband” you blush.
“Okay Mr.Seresin, I will text you when I get home” he smirks, “I also sent you some money if you need, Mrs.Seresin” it felt odd, but in a good way as legally, you were Mrs.Seresin.
“Jake,” he scoffs. “Nope, as a husband I am taking care of my wife, now go have fun” he blows a kiss over the speaker, hanging up before you can protest. You sigh with a smile. Typing out a quick text.
Sugar: Thank you, Husband. I appreciate you <3.
He can’t help the grin on his lips, looking over the text. He wouldn’t hate the idea of actually being a husband. The lawyer was the last thing on his mind. Making your way back inside, smiling at the text.
Hungman: No problem, Wife. Have a fun evening, talk later <3.
-
Wedding day had finally arrived, looking around the room, you sigh. “Where the hell is Laura?” you ask, standing in the suite with Allison and Wanda.
“I have no idea” you sigh, shaking your head. You knew she was not getting cold feet. “I’ll be right back” shutting the door behind you, you walk down the hallway with the bottom of your dress in hand.
Turning the corner you stop. Javy and Laura, both standing on the patio together. You clear your throat, both looking like deer in the headlights.
“This is not tradition” you say, arms crossed and brow raised. “I’m sorry” Laura smiles, hand locking with her now soon to be husband.
“Get back in the room, you have to get ready” she nods, kissing Javy one last time before she’s pushing past you.
Following her down the hallway as she got steps ahead of you. “Can’t believe you pulled me away from my husband” she gruffs, jokingly of course as you smile behind her. “I’m sorry miss, “I want a traditional wedding’” you throw the air quotes out to her.
She shakes her head, pushing into the room accompanied by the rest of your friend group and parents.
“I’ll be right back” you send her a reassuring smile, walking away from the room. It was hitting you a lot harder today that you were again only a bridesmaid and never a bride.
You tried hard not to mess up the makeup the lovely artist did trying to avoid the tears rolling down your cheeks. In the process, you don't notice the person in front of you, running into a hard chest. Soft hands catching you from falling, “woah there”.
Your whole body tenses, you knew that voice.
You look up to meet the same green eyes you had been thinking about for weeks. “Jake?” his hands remain on your shoulders. “(Y/N)?” his voice going up an octave in surprise.
“What are you doing here?” you ask as he looks you over, the lavender dress looks beautiful on you, “why are you crying?”.
You sniffle, shaking your head, “no answer my question first” he chuckles at your stubbornness. "My best friend is getting married today to his fiance, Laura” you gasp.
“Oh my god” you move from his arms, chuckling. “You are Hangman!” you point as his smirk grows wider.
“Javy’s best friend from top gun, oh my god” he nods sucking his teeth as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit. “You are Laura’s best friend” you nod, looking at him.
“What the fuck” you whisper, more to yourself than him. “I did not put this together” he nods, walking closer to you.
“Wanda and Allison tried setting me up with you” the words flow faster than you can process you are saying them as he laughs, a full belly laugh.
“Did you tell them that I am already your husband?” he asks as he then notices the ring on your left hand as it's brushing your cheeks. “No, I didn’t because I had no idea you were the same person” you chuckle, shaking your head again.
“I’m happy to see you,” he admits, looking at you. Looking back at him, you finally take him in, the black suit against the lavender shirt he wore under, bowtie tied neatly.
He looked as good as he did the last time you saw him in person. He smiles under your gaze, “I’m happy to see you too” . It's soft but in the large corridor it wasn’t hard to miss.
“Hey (Y/N)-” Bradley stops short at the end of the hallway, looking between you and Hangman. “Hangman, what did you do?” he starts making his way down the hall to get closer to you. Moving to stand in front of Jake, you stop Bradley.
“Bradley” he stops, looking between the two of you.
“Hangman is Jake” Bradley nods, looking between the two of you, “yes his name is Jake, what does that have to do with what is going on?” you shake your head, chuckling.
“Mr.Texas?” you ask, Bradley stops for a few seconds before he is chuckling. Jake slips a hand to rest on your hip, looking between you and his now friend. “She was the girl you slept with in Texas?!” He points to you, looking at Hangman.
Jake nods, looking at him with a sheepish smile, “Yes”.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe out of all the people in Austin Texas you married Hangman!” he laughs with a shake of his head. “Can I just say something?” you ask, between both aviators.
“One, I had no idea he was in the Navy until about five minutes ago. Second, he was just Jake in Texas, a southern gentleman” you look at Jake over your shoulder, he smiles down at you.
“Did he get me in his bed and marry him? I mean yes but I am also a grown woman, I had no idea he was the Hangman that you all talk about” Bradley nods slowly.
“I’m still in shock,” you admit, looking between them. “You have to tell the girls,” Bradley smirks, looking at you. “I vouched for you and everything Hangman!” he laughs at his friend, who furrows his brows.
“The text said, and I quote “Bradley says he really is nice and you guys would be so cute together” so I mean he did” you say, nodding between the two of them. “Had I known you already went out and put a ring on it” Bradley mumbles with a grin.
“How did I not recognize the girls' voices when they were in the hotel room?” he asks as you shrug. “We were hungover and barely remembered how we ended up there,” he nodded with a laugh.
“Okay point taken” you smile, looking between your two friends. “Well anyways, Hangman we are being summoned by the groom” Bradley smiles, “I’ll see you two later” he smirks, laughing as he makes his way back down the hall.
You turn to face Jake with a smile. “Mr.Texas?” he asks, hands resting on your waist. You laugh, nodding, “The girls all nicknamed you Mr.Texas, I reminded them time and time again you were Jake”.
He smiles, looking at you. “Go” you whisper, resting your hand on his arm. “I will see you later okay?” he nods, leaning down to kiss your cheek.
“I’ll see you later, Mrs.Seresin” he winks, walking back down the hallway the same way Bradley did.
He doesn’t miss the blush on your cheek. With a deep breath, you make your way back to the bride's suite.
“There you are!” Laura is grinning, holding a hand out to you. “Sorry, I’m here” you make your way to her, taking her hand.
“I want to tell you something” she’s whispering, looking at you.
“What is it?” you ask, squeezing her hand. “I never thought I would be here, marrying such an amazing man” she’s holding back tears as she continues, “I never thought I’d have such amazing friends like I do you and the group, I want you to know first” she’s grinning.
You nod, reaching out to wipe a tear from her face, “I’m having a baby”.
You grin, tears making their way to your eyes. “And I want you to be their god mother, Javy has already decided to ask Hangman to be godfather” you grin, both at the mention of Hangman and of the baby. “I’m honored” you smile, pulling her into a tight hug.
The wedding kicked off smoothly. You stood beside your best friend, watching as she married the love of her life. Doing your best to avoid crying, failing as they shared vows. You look up from the bouquet in your hand, Jake winks at you from his spot beside Javy. You blush, looking back at the couple.
“I now pronounce you, Mr and Mrs Machado!” the priest cheers as everyone follows suit. Jake waited so he could walk the aisle with you.
Following his best friend as he held an arm out to you. You move beside him and you link your arm through his, following the train of Laura’s dress.
Bradley smirks from his spot at the altar watching the scene in front of him as he was the only one to know.
He’s then looking at his own girlfriend as if she held the world. Following them outside, standing beside the rest of your best friends as you are throwing flower petals at the couple with cheers.
“See you all at the reception!” Javy grins, helping his now wife into the car, following after her.
“Wanna ride with us?” Mickey asks from beside you, smiling. Jake’s hands make their way back to your waist, shaking his head. “I got her” you smile at the look on Mickey's face, looking between the two of you.
“I’ll ride with Jake” you take his hand off your waist, lacing your fingers together. “Okay” He trails off, following Allison as she paid none the wiser of what was happening behind her.
“I now welcome you, Mr. and Mrs. Javy Machado!” you grin, cheering beside your friends as Laura and Javy make their way into the reception.
Laura looked gorgeous in the dress she chose. Jake beside you as he grins at his best friend. He was happy for them, even more happy having you beside him. You look up at the feeling of a hand on your arm, smiling at Wanda. “We need to talk” you frown, looking at her.
“Are you okay?” you ask, now turning to your best friend. She nods, smiling. “Hi Hangman” he nods, sending her a smile.
“Wanda” he nods and makes his way from the two of you to join his group of friends. You watch as he congratulates his friends, not missing the smile he shared with Laura.
“It’s Hangman?!” she’s whisper-yelling. “Huh?” you look back at Wanda, Allison on her way to join you. “Mr. Texas was Jake Seresin?!” she whispers a grin on her face. You blush, looking at your friends.
“What?!” Allison asks from beside Wanda, looking at you. “Yes, Jake is Mr.Texas aka Hangman” you look at them with a blush. “I can not believe this” Allison is laughing, watching you. “I can’t believe we tried setting you up and he already put a ring on it!” you laugh.
“Don’t be mad, Bradley told me” Wanda says, hand on your arm. Shaking your head, you smile. “I planned on telling you, I just haven’t told Laura because well it’s her day” you say, cutting short at the mention of your friend.
“What haven’t you told me?” she asks, glass in her hand.
“(Y/N) married Hangman!” you gasp, looking at Wanda.
“What?!” Laura is looking between you and back over at Jake, who stood with her husband. “Mr.Texas?!” she asks as you nod. “It all makes sense now, I mean sure Jake is a common name but in Austin Texas” she grins. “How did we not recognize him?” Laura asks the group, they shrug, “We were drunk and it was dark” Wanda says, they all laugh.
Making it through the crowd, you approach the group of Aviators. “Gentleman” you smile, looking between them, looking at Javy. “Javy, Congratulations” you smile as he pulls you into a tight hug.
You had grown close to Javy as he was like your big brother. “Thank you (Y/N/N)” you smile, moving back to stand beside Jake who doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you.
“Am I missing something?” Javy asks, looking between the two of you. “They’re married!” Bradley yells from behind him with a smirk.
“What?!” he looks at his best friend, who grins. “I am indeed Mr.Texas” Jake laughs at the nickname, looking at his friend. “And I am the mystery texas girl” you are also laughing.
"Oh my god!" Javy is laughing, hand on his stomach as he looks between the two of you. "And all this time Laura has been trying to set the two of you up!" he points out as his wife joins his side with a grin. "I mean I did if you think about it" the two Machado's grin.
“Are you gonna stay married?” the question was loaded, in the weeks since you returned to San Diego neither you or jake thought about divorce.
“I don’t know” you say, looking up at the man beside you. “We'll see” you wink, moving from his grip and making your way back over to your friends. “I can not believe you two are married and I-” Javy furrows his brows.
“I never saw your ring! None of us did” Jake grins, holding his left hand up, “I wore it on my tags, didn’t want to ruin it, but I whipped it out for today” he shrugs as he sips the beer in his hand.
The reception continued on with drinks, laughs and speeches. The group all found out slowly you were indeed married to the captain of the squad.
Standing on the balcony of the venue, you close your eyes and take in the breeze.
“You know the party is not out here” you smile, the southern drawl making itself known now that he was a few drinks in. “I know” standing from the railing, you turn to face him.
He smiles, his suit jacket now discarded, now just the lavender button up. “I needed a few minutes,” you admit, looking at him.
He nods, moving to stand beside you. “Can I ask you something?” he asks, looking over at you.
Nodding, he continues. “Do you want to get divorced?” biting your lip, you shrug. “I don’t know,” you admit.
“I don’t” he admits sipping from the beer in his hands.
“What?” you look over at him, looking over his face. “I think I'd like to see where we can go,” he admits. You blush, looking away from him, “Oh” your voice is soft.
“I don’t know, something feels right, it has for the last few weeks” he’s spilling now, he realizes.
“In the nights that we talked, the texting, the photos” he shrugs, looking down at you. “I can’t help but think maybe we could make this marriage work,” he smiles. You bite your lip, nodding slowly.
You had the same feelings, but in the group of your friends you knew the reputation Hangman held.
“Are you ready to be tied down to someone, let alone me?” you ask, he chuckles.
“I haven’t looked another woman's way since you” he admits, looking at you.
“Really?” you ask as he nods. “I realize now what you’ve heard about me, how I sleep around and all but” he shrugs, moving closer to you.
“I am a simple man. I want a wife and a life with someone I love” you look up at him as he continues. “Now, did our marriage start traditionally? Of course not. I want to build it” he smiles, hand reaching out to cup your cheeks. “I want to take you on dates and woo you, be the husband you deserve” leaning into his hand, you kiss his palm.
“I won't lie I didn’t expect you to lay it on so thick” you grin. He chuckles, looking at you.
“What do you say Sugar?” he asks, his voice now deeper and accent thicker.
You nod, leaning up to connect your lips to his. Taking him by surprise as he doesn't kiss back at first but within seconds, kissing you again.
He’s pulling you against his body, hand on the back of your head to pull you and your lips closer. As you kissed him, you realized two things.
Laura was so smart for picking Austin for her bachelorette party. And when you left Texas, you left half your heart there.
The smooth talking green eyed pilot taking a piece of your heart and holding it with him. Traveling back to California with him, and holding it close as he himself was close.
“Can I take you out officially?” he asks softly, "soberly, of course" he nudges your nose. “I think that can be arranged,” he smirks, kissing you again.
God did you love Texas.
Authors Note part II: I must admit I don't think this is my best work but I think the story is good and kind of hallmark-y? But lawd! did anyone see this fic going where it did? let me know your thoughts! of course, likes, reblogs and comments are always welcomed!
and of course, if you liked this fic you can find more of my work in the library here
⇾ The Library
#glen powell#jake seresin#top gun maverick#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin fic#jake seresin imagine#hangman fluff#hangman x reader#hangman fic
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Constellation
Wolf Yautja x Reader
Summary: You loved living alone in your cottage. You moved out to be alone for a reason, you hated people, and you wanted to be left alone. And you were alone until a certain pair of eyes started following you.
You saw the news on the TV.
Aliens.
And yet you ignored it.
You tried to live the life you wanted for so long as best as you could.
For as long as you could.
You still took care of your land, fed your animals and did your daily chores as usual.
You did see a couple of ships pass over your home but nothing more.
You have never seen an alien. Only on TV.
It appeared that they were fighting.
Then the government decided to nuke the city to kill both aliens.
It looked like it was the end of it all.
But little did you know, for you, it was only the beginning.
You had a feeling that you were being watched.
The feeling not quite leaving you alone. You tried to look. You walked around your land, in the woods, nothing, no one.
Could it be that you were becoming more and more paranoid? Could it be because of isolation?
You were imagining things.
Until one evening, when you heard noises inside your house.
Loud distinctive noises of someone walking around.
Fear struck you.
You couldn't move out of bed. You just laid there, blankets up to your chin as you were shaking. Your heart beat out of your chest as the door to your room opened.
The person was huge, way too tall for a human, they had to dodge under the door to move in.
Then, came a clicking sound.
This is when you realized, this was no human.
There was a God damn alien in your home!
You knew you couldn't do anything. This thing could tear you apart in a matter of seconds.
You pretended to be asleep, hoping it would leave.
It watched you for a minute or two, which for you felt like an eternity before it left.
After the alien creature left, you rushed to see how it got in.
All doors and windows were locked from the inside. But you surely heard its footsteps moving into the woods next to your home.
You were utterly confused.
How did it get in?!
Why did it get in? What did it want?
It didn't take anything, it didn't hurt you, so what could it want?!
For the upcoming days, you didn't sleep.
The thing came every night, sometimes late in the night sometimes earlier. It just stood there and did nothing.
By the third time you were considering asking it what did it want. Or staying awake to see how it would react.
But you were too afraid.
Then two weeks later, as you were leaving your home, the skull of a deer with antlers was on your porch. It was placed there delicately, facing the door so you wouldn't miss it.
You were sure it was the alien.
Was this its sign to show you that it could kill you? You already knew that.
You took the skull and left it on your porch. You thought if you ignored it long enough, it would get tired and just leave you alone.
But it didn't.
The next day, another animal skull was placed on your steps. Looked to be a cat or a dog.
Then, something like a fox and finally, a wolf skull.
You began to have quite a collection. But you didn't understand. Was this thing trying to intimidate you?
It was working.
You just refused to leave because you spent your life building this place into a home.
But, was your life worth staying?
It showed that it could easily kill you.
But then why was it hiding?
Why did it already kill you and take what it wanted?
What did it want?
--- 2 months ago ---
Yautja prided themselves if they died during a fight.
It was the most honourable death they could ever ask for.
He fought many xenomorphs. One even left its scar on him.
And yet, now as he was fighting, he survived.
He got back on his ship and left, but his ship got damaged and it broke down in the woods.
Wolf had to fix his ship so he could go back to Yautja Prime.
On his way to find some materials he could use he stumbled upon a farm, he knew some humans lived out in the wild in their houses, away from other humans.
He hid behind a tree and observed, trying to figure out if this human opposed any danger to him.
The first time he saw you was when you took care of your crops.
He concluded that you were nothing but a harmless little human.
And yet, for the next two weeks, he found himself watching you. He sat up on the tree and watched you all day and fixed his ship all night.
He walked around your crops, looking at everything.
To him, it was clear that you were a provider. Much like the females on his planet, you took care of food while the males hunted.
But you had no male. Which was quite interesting to him.
How come no male humans wanted you as their mate?
One night, he got brave and decided to go inside the house while you slept.
He checked your home and found nothing of interest besides you.
He watched as you slept.
He stood there for hours, watching you.
You were so different from him, yet so similar.
You preferred to be alone, much like him.
You didn't have a mate, much like him.
He liked you. Which was extremely rare for him. During his life, he never looked for anyone like he did for you.
And so, he made his decision.
He will court you, win you and bring you back to his planet.
It was a simple plan for him.
And so, the first skull was placed on your doorstep.
You yawned as you got out of the bath, heading to the kitchen for some water before heading to bed, you stopped in your tracks.
It was here.
It was standing right in front of you. It was huge and grey and green and tall and... and you nearly fainted.
You knew you couldn't fight this thing.
You had no chance against it.
It raised its hands and pulled its helmet off, revealing its face.
This alien looked a lot like the one you saw on the TV once.
The one that fought the other.
You noted the scar on its face as it made a clicking sound. It started to walk towards you, you backed up into the fridge.
It raised its hand and placed a palm against your cheek. You looked into its eyes for the first time.
And somehow, you felt calm.
It made you calm down.
He made you calm down.
"What do you want?" you asked, hoping he would understand.
But he just made the same clicking sound as he did before.
"Why did you leave the skulls?" you asked and he moved his hand to the armour on his wrist and pushed a couple of buttons.
"Gi-fts." said a very broken robotic voice.
"Why did you leave me gifts?" you watched as he pushed more buttons.
"Gifts for Mate."
"Mate?" you asked and he nodded. Realization hit you and you realized, he was leaving you gifts so that he could court you. This must be an alien custom. "What are you?"
"Yautja."
"What's your name?"
"Wolf." the machine seemingly translated his name, but it was okay. "Your name?"
"My name is Y/N."
He nodded again.
"I want to take you to my planet. So we can marry." your eyes widened.
"Marry?"
"Strong female," he pointed at you, "Strong male." you would have assumed that he would have some issue having to marry you, wouldn't they only marry their own?
"Give me time. Two months. T-Then I will go with you." what were you saying? Why did you say that?! You didn't want to go! But you had no other options! This... Wolf clearly would get what he wants.
Maybe... those two months will be enough for you to get used to the thought.
Maybe those two months will be enough for you to grow some form of attachment.
Maybe... hopefully.
For the next two months, he stayed with you in the house.
The first week there was a lot of rain and storm so you were inside.
Most of the time you just kept looking at him or watched TV. He didn't speak, but he did notice the skulls you put up above your fireplace.
It filled him with pride, it meant you liked his presents.
That you accepted his courting.
For the upcoming days you cooked for both of you, since you weren't exactly sure what food he liked, you tried steak with potatoes. You can't go wrong with that.
And you didn't. He enjoyed it very much. Then the next day, he brought you cut meat, from where you were afraid to ask.
But you did cook everything that he brought to your home.
And he ate it all.
He still watched as you slept.
But instead of panicking, you found yourself enjoying having him there. He made you feel safe and you found that you wouldn't be able to fall asleep without him in the room.
You woke up each and every morning more and more comfortable in his presence, which did make you worry.
Turned out, you didn't hate company, you hated human company.
Wolf being the big alien that he was tried his best to be careful around you. He followed you everywhere, he watched you and learned.
He learned a lot about you from just watching you in the woods, but now, now he knew even more.
He saw the way you worked, how gentle and delicate you could be. But he also watched you chop up wood, showing that you can be strong when need be.
He liked it.
He was proud to pick such an amazing Mate.
It was the last day, two months had gone by and his ship was ready, he was ready.
He entered your house and found you in the kitchen, you looked out your window as if trying to memorize everything. But when you realized that he was behind you, you turned and smiled at him. A gesture he wished he could give back.
"I'm almost ready." you said with a heavy heart, but you were also ready to leave and be with Wolf, see where that path would take you.
And you felt ready for the adventure, it scared you but you felt ready.
You just wanted to remember this place.
You looked back out the window when he came up behind you, standing behind you, you felt his huge body but you didn't feel scared.
It felt good.
He felt safe.
He was a good two heads taller than you.
You didn't say a word as you turned around and looked at him. You really looked at his scar and his eye. You knew he still could see with it, but his vision wasn't the best on that one.
You could also assume that one of his... mandibles was missing. It's place is still present.
You wished you could ask, you wished he could tell you. He lowered himself, allowing you to reach his face as you reached up and ran your fingers down his scars.
You wished you were there to help him, you could have eased his pain.
And, just like that, you were ready.
--- 3 years later ---
Yautja Prime was very different from Earth.
Yautja were very different from humans.
You learned that Wolf was quite the loner. His name fit him very well.
He preferred to be alone in his home, working on his ship or head on a mission for a hunt.
He liked being with you.
You two were very similar.
You didn't enjoy the company of others, but you enjoyed having the others around.
On your wedding night, Wolf told you how Yautja found their mates.
He also told you about true mates. Which is what you would call soulmates.
He explained how he felt as if you two were true mates and you didn't agree at the time, but now you did.
Spending your last three years with him, you can confidently say that you are in love with him.
You only feel complete when he is there.
And from what he told you, he felt the same. You wore the necklace he gifted you with pride.
And you waited for him every day when he was away on a hunt. He always came back victorious with many gifts.
He proved his worth to you as a male and a Mate.
And so, you never once regretted coming with him. Even if you were nervous in the beginning.
He made sure you had a warm bed, filled with furs.
Every night he came to the bed, he held you close to him, keeping your smaller body close and safe.
You slept with the confidence of having him there. Knowing he would protect you if anything was to happen.
Not like anything ever did.
You found yourself not missing your old life.
The view you spent so much time trying to memorize, long forgotten.
All because of him.
You woke up every morning in his arms.
His body wasn't warm nor was it cold. But the feeling of his skin under your fingers always lets you know that he was there.
And you couldn't ask for more.
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#x reader#fanfiction#x female reader#slasher x reader#slasher imagines#yautja x human#yautja#alien vs predator#yautja x reader#yautja x you#yautja imagine#yautja imagines#preadtor imagines#predator imagine#predator imagines#alien vs predator requiem#aliens vs predator#aliens vs predator fanfiction#predator wolf#wolf predator#wolf predator x reader#monster imagines#monster x reader#monster x human
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Hey, I love your Batfam work! Is there any chance you could do a whump/angst one of batsis being kidnapped by a villian(you can choose whoever you want) and she’s tortured for days with it being broadcasted to the Batfam while they try to track the footage. I feel kinda bad but can you do maybe some head trauma md severe burns? Maybe she has to be put in a medically included coma or smth because of the damage? Also is there any way you could include Barb and Duke along w/ the four robins? If not that’s totally cool! Sorry for the long request but I hope you have a great day!!
Anonymous Requested: batfam x batsib reader whos the youngest and newest robin and is just really goofy and doesn’t take anything seriously (ex: them blaring “who’s the (bat)man” on the comms during patrol [that songs stuck in my head i had to mention it]) and something happens, maybe their first close encounter to death or a run in with the joker and they just become a shell of who they were and stuff
Jokes On Me
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Note: My god im so sorry this literally took me forever to write, thank you so much for being patient. I've been trying to write this all week but just couldn't sit down for long enough to finish it.
Warnings: Torture, blood, burns.
Word Count: 2.5k
⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
“Y/N, turn that shit off.”
Jason grumbled at you over the coms. You had been blasting some wretched song that you’d found on the internet over and over again and it was beginning to drive him mad.
“Nope.” You said, popping the ‘p’ loudly.
“Seriously.” Dick deadpanned. He had found it amusing at first, but it was now beginning to test his patience.
Agitated, you sighed and turned off the music. “Fine.”
“Thank you.” Jason expressed gratefully, turning his eyes back to the road he was patrolling. The night was cool and quiet besides the odd dog walker or couple returning from an evening out. It was one of those nights where patrol would end early and he could return home to take a warm bath and read a book before turning in for the night. Or so he thought.
You were rounding the corner, humming that tune that was still stuck in your head when his laughter ricocheted across the walls. You stiffened, eyes widening and hands fumbling for your weapon as your breath hitched. No amount of turning and craning your head allowed you to catch a glimpse of the dreaded figure, and you thought for a moment that perhaps it had just been a trick of your mind, or one of your brothers playing a cruel joke on you as payback for winding them up earlier. But then you heard it again, only this time to your left. You clutched your weapon tighter, eyes scanning the area with a new found sense of urgency.
“Wing…” You whispered into the coms so quietly that you were surprised he heard it.
“What now?” He somewhat snapped.
“We have a problem.”
Dick’s heart sank through the floor, his ears pricking up and his demeanour changing completely. “Where are you? What’s the matter? He was trying to let his panic show, but you hadn’t been patrolling as a vigilante for very long, and while you were well trained, you lacked the experience to deal with something big on your own. And from your tone of voice, he could tell that you were in some deep shit.
Jason worked his legs harder to push himself to reach the direction he had seen you head off in. Albeit it seemed even his hardest wasn’t enough.
When he stepped out of the darkness, the first thing you noticed were his eyes. Wide and bright, easily mistakable for a cat’s as they flashed in the darkness; wild. Rabid. As he emerged fully with that infamous twisted grin splayed out on his face, you felt like a cornered animal; a deer in headlights. You froze, unable to move despite how your heart screamed at you to run as it pounded, trying to break free from your ribcage.
“He’s here…” A mere whisper sliding over your tongue, so fragile that you weren’t even sure if you had actually said it aloud. Jason had heard it.
“Who?”
The Joker was circling you now, dragging out his strides in lazy circles. You should have fought but in that moment all of your training had drained out of you, along with the colour in your face. He smirked, leering down upon you as you tried to keep your trembling hand still. He pouted in mockery and at your silence, Jason repeated his question to you, but you never got the chance to respond.
“Oh…Just an old friend, Jay-bird.”
“Joker.” Urging his body to move faster, Jason grit his teeth.
Dick paled. “You leave them alone.” Dick spat. It tried to be a command, but the effect was lost somewhere in transmission.
The joker pursed his lips, tilting his head as he analysed. One of his hands had found his way to your jawline and he trailed it with a cold, gloved hand. You wanted to lean away, to run and find your brother but you knew that now he had you in his grasp there was no point in even trying. “And why would I do that? They’re right in front of me. I could just…snatch them up.”
“Don’t you dare!” Dick was frightened now. “Y/N, you stay there as long as you can, okay? You fight. We’re coming, you hear?”
The Joker frowned at you. “D’you hear that? Big brother birdy coming to the rescue. How sweet.”
His grip on you tightened. “Too bad you’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”
With one swift motion, he had thrown you harshly to the side, your head colliding with the wall with a sickening crack.
The two boys skidded to a halt just a second too late. You were already gone.
~
Your head hurt when you woke up. Your eyes squinted against the sterile light. They did no favours to your pounding headache. With a groan, you tried to twist, to roll over and soothe the crook in your neck but instead all that happened was the jinging of a metal chain. You craned your head and spotted the thick chain that had been wrapped around your wrist, confining you to the chair. Struggling, you tugged on them, trying to free yourself only for them to rattle and scrape against your skin.
“Yeah, that’s not going anywhere, birdy.” The joker chided.
You glared at him through narrowed eyes, trying to mask the thumping of your heart. The joker grinned wildly at your frightened complexion.
“It was such a shame that Grayson and Todd didn’t get to you in time, but it was far too easy to catch you, little bird: you completely froze.” He snapped his fingers to emphasise his point. “Didn’t batsy teach you better?”
“Don’t talk about them.” You snapped.
The joker raised his hands, palms facing toward you in surrender: taunting you as if you were the one with the power in the situation. “Touchy subject I see. Too bad.”
He gestured above you to an incessantly blinking light. “Smile for the camera, you’re live.”
~
Babs had been monitoring the street cameras when the computer beside her flickered to life. She had been searching for any sign of you ever since Dick and Jason came flying through the grandfather clock. Everyone was on edge.
The moment the screen flashed on, her eyes perked up to watch it, alarmed. She hadn’t turned it on. And there were very few people who could bypass the caves system. So when she saw a small frame curled up in a chair she knew immediately what was up.
“Duke…” she called to the dark haired boy who was trying to help decipher your whereabouts. “Go and get B.”
It did not take long at all for everyone to gather around in the cave. Duke was fast, and everyone dropped what they were doing to race down: even Alfred had taken his leave from his duties to see.
It was almost like some sick irony because as soon as they were all there, you began to scream. A guttering, perfect scream that cut that through them like a knife: unclean and pinging into them messily again and again.
The joker had taken a knife to your left thigh, his smile dripping with malice as he watched the camera, somehow knowing that at least one of them would be watching.
Your face was contorted in pain, twisting in agony as tears rolled flatly down your cheeks from fearful eyes. Damian felt sick, his stomach churning. Jason wanted to leave. But all of them were stuck watching. Barbra was tapping away, trying to locate the signal from the video to no avail.
“I hope you’re watching this Batsy…” He moved round to trail your face with the edge of the knife. You whimpered. “I’ve got your little bird here and I must say, you need to work on their training. They were far too easy to catch.”
Bruce felt his jaw tightening and Tim had to place a hand on his arm to remind him of his place.
“Anyway I thought we would play a little game… how long can little y/n survive for. I wonder if it’ll be any longer than our very own Jason Todd.”
Jason twitched.
“I’m testing you here, Bat. Tick Tock.”
The transmission cut to black.
~
It seemed hopeless. Even though they had been searching for days, they were no closer to finding you. And to make matters worse, they could see you. Not long after the first transition ended did it start up again. It had been lifestreaming since then, and although they had tried to block it from their minds, it was hard to ignore. Especially when your agonised screams ricocheted throughout the halls.
You looked like hell. Dark bags occluded under your eyes and there wasn’t an inch of your skin that wasn’t marred or stained with drying blood. The burns were worse. Damian could still hear the scream you let out when the joker first brought the hot poker to your skin. It had bubbled and blistered as the skin peeled away; you had thrashed against your restraints violently. Tim was certain that they were going to get infected if they didn’t reach you soon.
It felt as if they had searched everywhere. Dick and Jason had even asked around to see if anyone had heard anything, going as far to talk to the Jokers closest associates in Arkham, but even if they did know, nobody said anything. Duke had even gone as far to go back to the area to use his powers to see if he could trace anything, but nothing seemed out of place; they had hit a brick wall. That was…until a small light appeared on the monitor. Babs had managed to trace the signal to a small building on the outskirts of the city.
They were suited up in minutes, making a beeline for the building. They stormed it, recklessly taking down the Joker's goons before Batman chased wildly after the Joker, his face stony and his fists burning with anger. The other four boys chased down the winding corridors, flinging open the doors until they found one that was locked. Tim wasted no time, picking the lock with ease he peeled it open. His breath hitched when he saw you.
Your face was gaunt, hanging low by your chest. Your suit was torn and there was less of it on your body than there was ripped away. You looked so fragile as your chest heaved sporadically.
Jason nearly had to take a step back. This place reminded himself too much of his own encounter with the Joker not too long ago. But he pressed forward, fighting his instincts. He had to be strong. Instead of turning back, he kneeled in front of you, whispering your name. His hand came up to cup your face. You flinched away.
“It’s okay kid. It’s us.” He tried to reassure you, but you shrank back into yourself.
“We’re so, so sorry kiddo.” Dick tried placing a gentle hand on your arm before moving to work on the cuffs around your wrists. “We’re going to get you out.”
You said nothing, just continued to stare at the black space before you, and Dami wasn’t sure if you even knew they were in front of you. But when Jason moved away from you to help remove your restraints, your fingers latched onto him and you squeaked in protest.
He sighed shakily. “Don’t worry kid. I’m not going anywhere.”
Damian twisted from where he was guarding the door. “We need to leave.”
Dick nodded bluntly, finishing with the last of the locks. “I’m going to have to pick you up, okay sweetheart?”
You barely registered what he had said. Everything had grown numb, you nodded anyhow. Moving his arms underneath your legs and slipping one arm behind your back, Jason began to lift you. He nearly recoiled when you cried and whimpered with the way your wounds jostled as he sprinted out of the building to get you back to safety.
~
You were yet to say anything since you came home. You had been back a few days and your wounds were healing up nicely thanks to Alfred’s handywork, but the air was eerily silent around you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been communicating with them; you spoke to them with gestures or writing but no one was used to not hearing your voice. The stark contrast between your loud and bustling personality and you now was unsettling. No one wanted to push you too far but the manor was beginning to grow lonely.
It was one particularly rainy night when you finally spoke. You were curled up in a large armchair by the window in the library, sinking back into the plush leather as you watched the raindrops race down the glass. Jason had been watching you from afar, contemplating whether to talk to you or not when he walked over.
“What are you up to?” He asked you, making sure you knew that he was there before he spoke.
You gestured toward the window,then to the half opened book at your feet and shrugged.
“I see.” He nodded, taking a seat on the armchair opposite you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Jason wasn’t much of a talker. He knew more than anyone what you were going through, which was why it was nice just to know that he was willing to sit with you, just so you knew that he was there if you needed him. It made you feel safe. But you also couldn’t help but feel guilty, and frustrated with yourself for being in a place that made him feel as though he had to do that.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered.
Jason had to do a second take. His heart swelled. “What for?”
You sighed. “This. When I saw him…i-i froze. If I had run then this would never have happened.”
“Shh. This isn’t your fault.”
“But-”
“I promise, Kid. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
You nodded, looking away from him. But then you furrowed your brows and turned back to him. “How did you do it? How did you deal with this, Jay? Every time I close my eyes he’s there.”
“I guess I don’t, really. Or sometimes it feels like I don’t. I still get scared sometimes. I still see him in my dreams. But over time it gets easier. I had people around me to help me. And so do you, kid. We’re here. We’ll always be here.”
Jason shifted to brush away a rogue tear and you leaned into his touch and then wrapped your arms tightly around his middle.
“I’m here. Always. We’ll get through this together.”
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BATFAM TAGS
@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish
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#batfam x reader#Batfamily x reader#dc x reader#dc#batfam#dick Grayson#dick Grayson x reader#hurt/comfort#nightwing#nightwing x reader#Jason Todd#Jason Todd x Reader#batfam x sibling reader#red hood#red hood x reader#batfam x injured reader#Tim Drake#Tim Drake x Reader#red Robin#red Robin x reader#Damian Wayne#Damian Wayne x Reader#robin#robin x reader#writing#angst#whump#duke Tomas#barbra gordon#Batman
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NEW HAIRCUT
Sevika x f!reader
Summary: Your girlfriend, Sevika, decided that it was time for a new appearance, a new her. But, she may have messed up more than intended, resulting in a sweet moment of you being there to help her.
“God, what did you do to your hair, Sevy?” you asked as you walked into the bathroom, intending to check on your girlfriend after her being hidden in the room for hours, only to be met with a hairy mess on the bathroom tile and Sevika holding scissors in her hand, now staring at you like a deer and headlights.
The scissors in her hand were midway cutting another chunk of her hair when they stopped as you interrupted her with…whatever this was.
It seemed like an attempt at a new haircut, but turned out to look like a child who had chosen not to listen to their mother’s warning about not using the scissors for unneeded reasons such as chopping their hair off and suddenly looking like a porcupine, hair up and down, long and short.
“I–” The words for a possible excuse got caught in her throat as she stared at you, slowly lowering the scissors down onto the counter. She caught a glimpse of the cut off hair in the process, staring at her feet momentarily, which made her look like a guilty or even lost puppy before looking back at you. “--I thought it was time for a new look, maybe.”
You stared at her, a tad bit surprised at the fact she wanted to cut her hair. Afterall, she had been growing it out for a long time, but then again, a lot has gone on since then. For example, Silco dropped flat off the planet after the incident with Jinx, Sevika had been taking control of Zaun because of Silco’s absence and the repercussions it had brought, and she had pretty much become a second parent with you now that you both had to watch after Jinx and Isha, the little kid that Jinx found only a few weeks ago (both complete troublemakers, but found family).
“But I am kind of shitty at this type of stuff.” She grumbled, snapping you out of your thoughts as she glanced up at the mirror and grimaced at her poor job in a personal haircut, the strands cut at different lengths and angles.
It could all be summed up to be classified as a mess, but even that may have been an understatement at the moment because of what Sevika did, or at least tried to do.
You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, a smile creeping on your face as you agreed with her statement. Still, you couldn’t help but also find her attempt adorable, the way she looked like a disheveled messwith that fussy pout on her face, no longer hidden when she looked up at the mirror. But then again, you couldn't blame her for such an expression.
All you could really do was agree with the fact that maybe it was time for a new look, and as her girlfriend, you would be there to help her with it, even if it seemed a bit impossible from this angle. But, it was worth taking a shot at for her.
“Alright, hand me the scissors and hair clippers.” you said with a hum of thought as you walked over to her, inspecting her hair until an image came up to possibly fix this mess on her head and please sevika at the same time with the new look it was going to have.
Sevika arched a brow, confusion written on her face when she saw that specific glint in your eyes, one both imaginative but just as dangerous. But she didn’t question out loud as she carefully handed you the scissors, followed by the hair clipper after she got it out of the bag on the side of the bathroom counter. While doing it, she looked at you from the mirror, slight hesitation in her eyes, but it didnt seem directed toward you, and it usually never was you. So, it had to be somewhat linked with the idea of a new look, maybe even the slight hint of a noticeable identity crisis behind it.
Being able to notice this, you immediately went to reassure her by placing a kiss on her temple and saying, “It will look great on you, baby…”
Her doubtful expression slowly disappeared as she took in your reassurance, a hum escaping her lips as your lips met her temple, a soft smile growing on her lips. “Mm, whatever you say, doll.”
You smiled some more and waited until she was fully coaxed before plugging in the clippers and pushing the button upwards, feeling the way it vibrated against your right hand as the cold metal of the scissors brushed against your left.
As you began to finally cut her hair, the room was filled with the sound of the clippers buzzing against her black locks and the scissors lightly snipping at the remaining ends to clean it up a bit. It only continued for a bit longer until it fell quiet again, finishing up with the clank of both objects being set down on the counter and the sound of you shuffling through the drawers to grab the stored mirror.
“And done!” You announced with a smile, looking at Sevika through the main mirror, waiting for her reaction to her new, fixed-up haircut. You made sure to position the smaller mirror in the process, angling it just enough to see the back of her head where the slight undercut was beneath.
Removing her hands from her eyes (a request you made part way through cutting her hair), Sevika glanced up at the mirror, looking at her improved haircut for the first time. Her expression almost softened immediately, a glint appearing in her eyes as she absorbed her new appearance, taking in the way her hair was much shorter, the strands looking cleaned up, and the overall cut complimenting her features.
All of it caused her a smile to grow on her face, a breathless chuckle leaving her lips as she finally said: “It’s amazing, doll..”
Your smile grew at her reaction, one you wanted so much that your heart warmed with happiness as you hugged her from behind, head resting on the back of her shoulder.
“I told you that it would look great on you.” You pointed out again, beaming at her from the mirror view.
Her smile speaded across her face at your repeated reassurance, now believing it fully as she turned around to look at you. She took your cheek into her hand and leaned forward, gently kissing your bottom lip, allowing you to feel how real her smile was versus just seeing it.
“Thank you, love.” She mumble against your lips, looking down at you with a much relaxed expression.
“Anytime, baby.” You replied before kissing her again, wrapping your arms around her neck gently tangling your fingers into her shorter hair. “Anything to help you out..”
#sevika x you#sevika x reader#sevika x y/n#fluffy fanfic#fanfic#fanfic writing#lesbian#haircut#sevika arcane#Sevika#arcane#arcane season 2
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Bunk Up
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem reader
Summary: Arthur invites you on a hunting trip, but you foolishly forget your tent. No harm done, you can bunk up with him, right?
Rating: nsfw, smut
Warnings/Content: a deer gets killed (camp's gotta eat), female masturbation, dry humping, fingering, p in v, breeding kink if you squint, unprotected sex, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).
Word count: 3,132
Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.
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Why in god's green earth had you agreed to go on this hunting trip again?
Oh yeah, because you have a hard-on for Arthur Morgan… figuratively, that is.
It'd be alright if you could just tell him your feelings, but you'd prided yourself on liking more respectable, more rich men in the past; that's the easiest way to make a living, at the end of the day. You'd originally intended to go for the gang leader, but that man is oblivious and stubborn as hell, not to mention not actually rich, much to your displeasure.
Then Arthur had introduced himself to you. His stupid snarky remarks and silly outfits and disgustingly beautiful eyes all seemed to merge together into this gorgeous man that loomed in front of you and had your knees almost buckling.
Even worse, he'd noticed the way your demeanour changed and how your body seemed to crumble under the weight of his soft eyes.
“Hey! Are you even listenin’ to me?” His gruff voice breaks you from your trance.
“ ‘course I am, I always listen to your wise words, Mr Morgan.” You remark, looking up at him from the position you'd had your eyes trained on seconds ago. “Yeah, sure.” You feel his rough fingertips turn your chin back towards the deer in front of you, a gesture that makes heat rise in your cheeks all the way to the tips of your ears.
“Take the shot, you got a perfect shot there, can't miss it.”
The cold varnished wood cools your warm cheeks as you bring it close to your face and grit your teeth.
“Always shoot on empty lungs.” His whisper sends shivers down your spine before you take the shot, a loud crack echoing through the trees as a clatter of birds ascends into the sky.
“You did good! That was perfect.” A soft grunt leaves his throat as he gets up and checks the prey. “Think Pearson will make a good meal outta this,” his eyes then meet yours. “Good girl.” he tips his hat to you.
Damn Arthur Morgan, with that shit eating grin that makes your stomach flutter.
“You know I ain't one for pickin’ on people–” Arthur starts, shoveling chunks of peaches in his mouth, “but I don't think I've ever seen someone forget their tent on a huntin’ trip.”
“Ok, for one, you're always picking on people, ‘specially if you don't like ‘em. And for two… just– shut the hell up.” You pull your coat tighter around your body to shield yourself from the cold rain drizzling down your neck, the soft fur bringing you some warmth and comfort to your otherwise shaking body.
“Easy girl, don't be gettin’ mad at me now. Besides, it means you get to share a tent with me, ain't that a dream?” A simple grumble from you makes the man chuckle lowly. “I won't take that personally.”
It was a dream, and you hated admitting that.
Luckily, you'd remembered your bed roll, so at least you didn't have to snuggle up under the cotton sheets with your rugged partner… but, admittedly, a small part of you is disappointed at that.
You try to forget about those thoughts that are festering in the back of your mind and making you squeeze your legs together, but as the cold seeps into your bones and makes yourself huddle further into the sheets, you find yourself backing up against the warm body behind you.
The soft rustle of trees keeps you awake, at least that's what you tell yourself at first, not wanting to give into those filthy images of the cowboy flashing behind your eyelids.
Soon, all too soon for your liking, you find yourself panting. It's barely audible, but it's enough to make yourself embarrassed and look back at the outlaw peacefully sleeping behind you, unaware of the pictures you have playing on loop in your head. It makes you bite your lip; the thought of touching yourself right next to the man you've been meaning to tell your feelings to for months.
Quietly and carefully, you slide your hand over your body and between your legs, rubbing your already damp cunt over the fabric of your underwear. The feeling makes you grit your teeth much like earlier, and a small noise sneaks past your lips. You look back at Arthur again to see his chest still rising and falling slowly… fuck it, what's the worst that could happen?
Your hand slips into your underwear before you're even registering it. It's too cold to take the blanket off, or even your underwear for that matter, so you just run your fingers through your wet folds under the thin fabric. The slick noise it makes sounds too loud in the quiet forest, but at this point you're pretty sure the man is asleep, so you continue teasing yourself.
Your fingers circle your hole as you imagine it being his thick digits instead, or maybe even his tongue, since he's usually so quick with it. Another wet noise fills the tent when your fingers slide inside your needy cunt, buried to your knuckles as you massage that glorious spot inside you. When you pick up the pace, and the noises get louder, you're practically praying, wishing it was Arthur's fingers instead. They'd stretch you wide and fuck you good, the thought makes you shove some of the blanket in your mouth.
You're teetering on the edge at this point, scanning your brain for that final image that'll send you descending down the cliff… but a thick arm wrapping around your waist has you freezing in place.
“What have we got here?” Arthur's low, sleepy voice has the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, raising goosebumps all over your body as if he'd just ripped the sheets from your body.
“Arthur!–shit, I'm sorry–." You start, but his nose pressing against the back of your neck makes you stop in your tracks.
“I ain't judgin’ you, girl. We've all got our urges, desires.” He shuffles up closer to you, closing in on your body till his chest is pressed against your back, and his crotch is angled perfectly against your thighs. “Just wanted to know what you were thinkin’ about.”
God, his voice is so soft and low, it could make you fall asleep if your fingers weren't still knuckle deep inside yourself. “I–uhm…” Should you admit it? With the way he's pressing against you, it makes you think you should.
“You.”
“ ‘s that so? And why ain't you told me about this before, sweetheart?” His breath is hot on the back of your neck, pushing out any coldness that was left in your body as his large hand splays across your stomach and strokes your soft skin.
A huff escapes your nose a little louder than you expected. “Because… I'm embarrassed, I don't wanna be thinking about you like this.” You mumble ashamedly, but as those words leave your lips, you start moving your fingers inside your cunt again; a ‘come hither’ motion that makes you bite your lip to contain your noises.
“Oh, that ain't very nice. You ain't exactly a saint ya'self, Darlin’.”
Fuck, the way his words roll off his tongue makes you roll against your hand with a soft noise.
The action must've pleased Arthur, because he lets out a pant and presses his hips closer to yours, grinding in tandem with you as your hips roll on your fingers.
This feels so strange and wrong, but you aren't sure why. It's not like Arthur is married or even has a girl, he's just as lonely as you, and maybe that's exactly why you're so drawn to each other.
“Mmm, been dreamin’ ‘bout this for months, pressing against you like this.” He groans softly. His chin is placed neatly on your shoulder, cheek pressing against yours as his stubble itches your skin. He feels so warm and big behind you, like he's shielding you from any and every burden, and as his hips rock against yours more, you can't help but do the same. You grind back on him with short, soft pants, tilting your head to just get a glimpse of his blissed out face.
“When was the last time you did something like this, cowboy? You're acting like you're gonna cum in your night clothes.”
That makes a soft chuckle leave his red lips, flushed face pulling away from yours to look down at you.
“Long enough to be needin’ you.”
His words make you shiver, but he's quick to distract you with his hand taking your wrist and swatting your hand away.
“Lemme do it for you, sweetheart, please?”
Before your brain can even question or think about it, your body is telling him yes, your head nodding almost instantly. His fingers are quick to dive into your under garments and slide through your slick folds, a groan from him ringing in your ears.
“Dammit girl, you must have one hell of an imagination to make ya'self this wet… Jesus.” He grunts, looking down at his hand in your underwear with only the dim light of the lantern making your skin glow.
“I always get like this when I think of you, Arthur.” You tell him as your hand wraps around his wrist. “You're the only one that can make me cum.” You moan in his ear, making him dive his fingers into your needy cunt.
The stretch is wonderful, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel it, and it's just how you expected, if not better. His thick digits curl and glide over your walls until he finally feels you squirm against him as they touch that delicious spot.
“Yeah? You like it there, darlin’? Want me to keep goin’?”
Again, your body simply speaks for you, nodding quickly and grinding down on his fingers. You feel him grind his hips against you again, his body seemingly wanting to get impossibly closer to you as he ruts against your ass.
“You're such a pretty girl, y'know that? Been waitin’ to tell you that since the day we met.” He rests his chin on your arm so he can peck the exposed skin and continue curling his fingers inside you.
The tent is once again filled with the filthy sounds of your hole taking two fingers, sloppy wet sounds that would make you feel ashamed if it didn't feel so fucking good. It feels like all your nerves are being stroked at once, each time his fingers brush against your tummy or stroke your walls feels like you can't get enough of the electricity that runs through your body. You grip his thick arm, looking back at him as moans fall from your lips.
“You're damn good… shit.” You whimper as he looks up at you, big round eyes meeting yours to show he's there.
“Well, I appreciate that, comin’ from you.” He chuckles lightly, his own words breathy while his hips start to snap a little faster and become sloppy. “You gotta lemme feel this cunt for myself, please sweetheart, lemme feel this cunt clench around my cock.”
You find it hard to stop rocking your hips when he's talking to you like that, but eventually you take a deep breath and stop yourself. His fingers slip out of you with a lewd sound, and you feel him shuffle to get his night clothes off.
Your own are gone within seconds, your body too hot and needy to worry about if you'd thrown them outside to the wolves to get torn to shreds, all you can focus on is the man behind you.
As much as this position made you wet before, you desperately want to see his handsome face, even if it is barely visible. So, you flip onto your other side and rest your hands on his chest, the warmth spreading through your fingers. You can practically feel his excitement buzzing off of him and through your body, and it makes you giggle a little. “Jesus, you really ain't done this in a while, have you?”
“Not with a girl as pretty as you, sweetheart.” One hand slides over your cheek while his other finally gets his clothes off.
Just his tone alone makes your cheeks heat up, but as he leans in for a kiss, you find yourself taking in a breath of surprise. It's easy to melt into his arms and get lost in the feeling of his lips; they're surprisingly soft and sweet, and they feel like they fit perfectly on yours.
You're so swept up that it takes you a second to notice his hand snaking around the back of your knee and pulling your hips closer to himself.
That's when you feel it.
His length rests against your slick pussy lips, your leg now cocked over his waist to get him close. It feels bigger than you expected, thicker than you expected, it makes you whine softly on his lips.
You hate his little grin that you feel spread across his face. “Impatient, ain't you?” He teases, slowly rocking his hips against yours to let his cock slide through your sopping folds. His tip manages to butt against your clit each time, making you furrow your brows and moan softly on his lips.
Your hand is still resting on his cheek as you feel him push in for the first time, and god are you glad you're holding onto your bedroll with the other, because the stretch and the way he fills you makes you almost cum on the spot, a loud moan spilling from your lips to make you whimper embarrassedly.
“Oh sweetheart, don't be embarrassed. I love the noises you're makin’ for me, they're makin’ me so goddamn hard, can you do it again for me?” He asks as he pulls his hips back before sliding inside your warm, slick walls again.
You're quick to oblige to his plea, your body automatically reacting with a soft choked moan at the surprise of his thick cock stretching you once again. You can feel his calloused fingers still gripping the back of your knee to hold your leg up, giving him the perfect angle for his length to hit every nerve you have inside you and send sparks of arousal up your spine.
“Thaaat’s a good girl, look at'chu.” The man purrs, his warm breath making your eyes flutter shut so you can focus on his cock spearing you with each slow, deep thrust.
“Holy shit, Arthur, f–feels like you're splitting me in half.” You moan as your hands slide over his thick biceps and along his broad shoulders, finding that the perfect place for you to grip on for dear life too.
Arthur groans before leaning forward to press a kiss on the top of your head as he pants softly. “Biggest you've had, huh? Never felt somethin’ like this inside you, have you?” He doesn't accept the simple shake of your head, instead giving you a sharp thrust that has your nails dig into his flesh and a whimper spill from your lips. “No! No, I haven't… I love it, dammit, I love your cock.”
Something inside him seems to click as you say those words, a long moan slipping from his throat as his grip becomes tighter on your leg to pull you closer to him, his cock burying deeper inside you. He doesn't give you time to adjust before his hips are colliding with yours and the sounds of both your arousal soaked thighs are filling your ears and sending waves of pleasure from your head to your toes.
“Listen to those filthy noises, girl, that's all you. That's your wet cunt..” Arthur manages to moan out. He tilts his head down to watch your hips connecting, his head resting against your collar bones. “What a pretty cunt it is too… shit, I ain't ever felt somethin’ as good as this, miss.” His words seem to roll off of his tongue with ease, as if he's a erotic poet reciting the words he's scrawled down on the page. Maybe it has something to do with that journal he's writing in all the time… lord above how you'd love to read that.
“For you, Mr Morgan,” you blabber without even thinking about the words coming from your mouth. “I'm all for you, want you to take me like this over and over–.” It's funny how worked up you get over your own words, but it seems to have an even better effect on Arthur.
His brows knit together as his jaw hangs open a little, and dirty blonde strands of hair fall in his face and stick to his forehead perfectly.
“Shit, girl, you're gonna make me finish inside you if you keep talkin’ like that…” The man groans, his lip finding its way between his teeth to give him something to chew on. Somehow, his thrusts get faster, impossibly better as you feel the molten heat spread through your body and up to your throat to make you moan his name, along with any other expletives that come to mind.
Before you can stop yourself, you're saying dangerous words that, with any other man, would be like handing a loaded gun to a baboon.
“I want you to do that Arthur! Please– please cum inside me–” Your entire body tenses up before you come crashing down, whaling and grasping onto him for dear life as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm and make sharp thrusts that have you whimpering loudly. Your walls clench him tightly in pulsing rhythm, driving him closer and closer to the edge.
It's only a few more seconds before he's tearing his body away from yours and fisting himself, white ropes shooting all over your tummy as groans and growls rumble in his chest and his head throws back.
You watch the whole scene in front of you in awe, as if you're at the goddamn theatre watching a play… no, it's better than that. You'd never had time for the theatre, but you always have time for Arthur, despite how he gets on your nerves sometimes.
You smile softly at him as he lifts his head to look down at you, a smug grin on his face as he leans forward and pecks your lips.
“Hey, what's with the grin?” You huff softly and hit his chest playfully.
“Nothin’ just been waitin’ for you to admit your feelin's for me for a while now.”
An annoyed growl leaves your lips as you feel your face heat up with embarrassment, burying it in his chest instead to save you from his teasing.
“Shut the hell up, Morgan…”
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan smut#rdr2#rdr2 smut#red dead redemption#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan x reader
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⋆ beg until i'm in.
ambessa x wife!reader. men and minors dni.
synopsis: you and ambessa are estranged wives, but are you really estranged if she refuses to divorce you, and every time you see each other, you can't help but fall into bed?
cw: light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, getting back together, top ambessa medarda, dom/sub, dom ambessa medarda, she has soft spot for you, pleasure dom ambessaaaaa, just for you though, strapping, rough sex, rough body play, hair-pulling, name-calling, pet names, lesbian sex, dildos, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, overstimulation, she is strapping you down, you will not be walking, cock worship, blow jobs, the strap is the cock in question no men i swear to god, mommy kink, praise kink, mating press, age difference, older woman/younger woman, marriage, she does not play about you, realizing this might have slight primal play, orgasm edging, begging, spanking, impact play notes: i am a FREAK about this woman. also i wrote this for @sheloveschai because she has been bringing me joy through their work and i want to do the same.
“she thinks i’m a monster.”
the words hung in the air, dense as the afternoon heat, heavy as ambessa’s head in your lap. how you’d ended up here—her armor gone, her weight so familiar—felt like one of those moments you’d look back on, trying to pin down the thread that led you here. you couldn’t.
your lives were separate. estranged wives, that’s what you told yourself. she wouldn’t divorce you, and you weren’t exactly rushing to draw up the papers. but estrangement was such a tidy, convenient word like the absence between you both was clean and intentional. it wasn’t. she blurred the edges every time she showed up unannounced, stepping into the space she left behind like it still belonged to her. and maybe it did.
she came today, her arrival marked by the low hum of her car pulling up the dirt road. the ranch was still, caught in that honeyed pause between afternoon and evening. the house she’d bought for you sat perched on its patch of green, neat but unpretentious—a porch for watching storms, white siding that seemed to glow in the late sun. the kind of place that felt like it had existed long before you arrived, waiting for someone to live in it properly. around it, the land stretched wide, unbroken except for the fences hemming in the garden you’d built with your own hands.
you were out there, barefoot and stubborn, locked in a battle with the soil. a carrot clung to the earth like it had something to prove, your hair slipping from its tie as you yanked at it, dirt smudged across your face from an earlier showdown with a deer that had dared to challenge your lettuce. the dress you wore—white, soft, and loose—shifted around you like a second skin, its ruffled straps falling to kiss your shoulders. it was stained at the hem, caught on brambles, but it moved with you, romantic in its simplicity, something that could’ve been borrowed from another life.
ambessa watched from the car. you didn’t notice her at first, too busy flailing after some audacious bit of wildlife, but she noticed you. her eyes followed the sway of your dress, the way the sun painted gold onto your skin, how your body moved with a kind of rawness that had always undone her. she waited because ambessa always waited. but there was a tension to it, like watching something she didn’t want to admit she needed.
hours later, she was here, sprawled in your lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. her hand rested against the fabric of your dress, her breathing slow but uneven. you stroked her hair without thinking, staring out at the horizon. the horses were grazing, lazy against the emerald sprawl. the ranch, her gift, felt heavier than it had in a while.
“at one point in time,” you said finally, the words tasting of truth, “every daughter views her mother as her monster.”
her hand stilled. you could feel her thoughts shifting, coiling like a tide just out of reach. she didn’t say anything, but the silence was loud, charged. you didn’t press her.
“you were always so hard on yourself,” you continued, your voice quiet but steady. “you can be… strong, stubborn, cruel. i’ve felt it. i know it. so much of your decision-making is absolute like the world is this black-and-white chessboard you’re determined to win on. there’s no room for anyone else in that kind of thinking. it can be stifling. but—” you hesitated, fingers idly brushing the hem of your dress as you tried to hold her gaze.
“love is always the basis when it comes to the people you care about: mel, kino—”
“you,” she interjected softly, her voice barely audible but so certain it almost startled you.
you hummed in agreement, the corners of your mouth tugging into an easy smile.
“me,” you admitted, your chest tightening at the confession. you sighed, the sound carrying years of ache. “your problem is that you don’t believe we can love you back. not really. you think we can’t be safe with you. so you send us away, like that’s protecting us. you decide things for us—these big, sweeping decisions—and suddenly we’re standing outside looking in, strangers in our own lives with you.”
you paused, thinking of her daughter. “mel’s a teenager. she’s going to buck against you because that’s what teenagers do. you have to let her. you can’t control everything, ambessa. we don’t learn any other way.”
ambessa watched you, her face unreadable but her eyes dark and intent. her voice was indescribably tender when she spoke.
“you’re such a wonderful stepmother.”
the word made you scoff. you pushed her—gently but firmly—off your lap and rose to your feet. she let you, though her eyes lingered on you. she could never let go entirely.
“don’t let her hear you say that,” you muttered, shaking your head.
mel had not taken your marriage to her mother well. and really, who could blame her? you were more than half ambessa’s age. you’d once been mel’s peer at university, brushing shoulders in the same circles without a clue that your lives would one day intertwine like this. to make matters worse, mel hadn’t even learned of the relationship from her mother or you. no, she’d found out by walking in on the two of you in a position that still made your cheeks burn to think about.
what followed was relentless: the icy distance, the sharp words, the careful avoidance. love, for you, had always been hard, but this was a different kind of difficulty. you’d tried to explain yourself to mel, fumbling for words that didn’t sound hollow. you told her you loved her mother simply because you did. it wasn’t about their wealth or their influence. you’d come from nothing—a small town with a crumbling church, miles of barren land, and a quiet resignation to a life of struggle. you were used to living hard and mean, to fending for yourself.
but ambessa… she had swept into your life with the force of a storm. she needled at you, chipped away at your shell until you were belly-up and tender, soft between her teeth. you were an easy kill in her hunt, and she was ruthless, selfish, and she could be so fucking mean. but none of that mattered.
you loved her with the kind of blind devotion that defied reason, and you couldn’t imagine doing anything else. being her wife was your greatest pride, and tending to her was your guiltiest pleasure.
mel couldn’t understand that, and the rift between you grew wider with each passing day. then came the public’s growing animosity toward the medarda family, the rising tensions, and ambessa made one of her absolute decisions. the separation blindsided you. you’d cried so hard you blacked out in the hall, and when you woke, you left without looking back. you thought mel wouldn’t care.
which is why you were shocked when ambessa brought you mel’s request for your perspective.
you turned toward the stove, busying yourself with the rhythm of dinner prep. it was easier to focus on the small, manageable things—chopping vegetables, lighting the flame—than to meet her gaze.
“she doesn’t hate you, [name],” ambessa said suddenly, her voice calm but insistent.
you froze, the knife hovering mid-air before you carefully set it down and turned on the stove.
“you staying for dinner?” you asked carefully.
you heard her shift behind you, felt the warmth of her body as she closed the space between you. her arms circled your waist, firm but gentle, and you shivered, instinctively leaning into her. god knows you were never the strongest soldier. she pressed a kiss to your temple, her lips lingering just long enough to make you melt.
“i admit,” she murmured, her voice low and quiet, “i had other motives for coming here.”
“bessa,” you began.
ambessa held you tighter, her lips brushing against your temple, the warmth of her breath sending shivers down your spine. her silence stretched just long enough for you to grow uneasy, but then she spoke, her voice low and thick with emotion.
“they’ve been asking for you,” she said, her hands smoothing over your waist.
you stiffened slightly, unsure if you’d heard her correctly.
“who?”
“mel. kino.” she pressed another kiss to your temple, then let her forehead rest against the side of your head. “they’ve been pleading with me to bring you back. they won’t admit it outright—god forbid they ever say they were wrong—”
you shot her a look.
“—but they’ve missed you. and they hate the way i’ve been without you. they say i’m different when you’re there.”
your breath hitched, your chest tightening with a mix of disbelief and something dangerously close to hope.
“they don’t even like me,” you murmured, your voice cracking.
“that’s not true.” ambessa’s tone softened, her grip on you tightening like she was afraid you might slip away. “they’re too proud to say it, but they’ve developed a soft spot for you despite everything. they miss you as much as i do.”
you turned your head slightly, just enough to catch the edge of her expression—open, raw, and devastatingly honest. by instinct, you lifted a hand and cradled her face. you hated it when she was sad.
“oh, bessa.”
“i’ve realized,” she continued, her voice dropping to a near whisper, “that i am nothing without you. i thought i was protecting you by letting you go, but i was wrong. i’m tired, my love. tired of waking up alone. tired of pretending i don’t need you. i do. god, i do.”
you felt a weight lift from the depths of your body. you’d waited so long to hear this—to feel wanted, needed, like you weren’t just a fleeting chapter in her life. tears welled up, and before you could stop them, they spilled over, hot and fat.
ambessa turned you in her arms, her hands coming up to cup your face as you began to cry in earnest.
“oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, her thumbs brushing away your tears. “don’t cry. please don’t cry.”
“i don’t want to do this anymore,” you choked out between sobs, clutching at her arms like she was the only thing keeping you upright. you pressed down on the thick cords of muscle, pleading with the strength of your grip. “i don’t want the house or any of this shit. i’m so tired of taking care of myself, ambessa. i just want to come home.”
her expression crumpled, and for a moment, you saw a vulnerability in her that she rarely let show.
“i’m sorry,” she said, her voice tight. “i’m so sorry, my love. i never should have let you go. i’ll make it right—i swear to you. i’ll spoil you, take care of you, and keep you forever. you’re mine, [name], and i’ll never let you forget it again.”
you sobbed harder, your face burying into her chest as her arms enveloped you completely.
“i know, baby. you did so well. i’m so proud of you,” she murmured.
she continued to whisper soft reassurances, mantras of “sweetheart,” “my sweet girl,” and “my sweet baby,” until the tears slowed and your breathing evened out. you shuddered against her, refusing to remove yourself from where you were pressed tightly against her chest. she shifted, and you jolted—fingers splaying desperately across her body.
“shh. i’m just making us more comfortable,” she told you.
the two of you moved, a single weeping entity across the floor of the kitchen into the living room. ambessa settled you on the couch, continuing to trace a hand across the landscape of your back.
“come back with me,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your hair. “let me take care of you. let me love you the way you deserve, hmm?”
you nodded against her, your hands clutching at the fabric of her shirt like a lifeline.
“that's all i want. i never stopped loving you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
“i know,” she said, tilting your face up to hers.
the kiss she gave you was desperate and all-consuming, a culmination of every time you had woken and found yourself alone. her hands roamed over your hips and your waist, pulling you closer as if the space between you was unbearable. you gasped into her mouth, and she deepened the kiss.
“i’ve missed you,” she murmured against your lips, her voice low, rough with hunger. “did you miss me?”
you shivered, your body instinctively pressing into hers.
“yes. yes, i did. i swear, bessa,” you insisted, your voice trembling.
“shh, my love,” she said, her lips trailing down your jaw to your neck to soothe you. “i believe you. a sweet girl like you wouldn’t lie to me.”
with a groan, she lifted you, guiding you toward the bedroom, her hands never straying from your body, her kisses growing more frantic. when your back hit the bed, she hovered over you, her gaze dark, possessive. a hand came down to cup your cunt, firm and promising.
“yes or no?” she asked.
she only asked out of respect. ambessa had long ago perfected the art of taking what she wanted. you found you didn’t mind. it was easier this way, surrendering to her because she knew your body—your needs—better than you ever could. in her hands, the pressure of choice vanished. you trusted her to always know what was best.
suddenly, you were reminded of when she proposed. you felt the same now as you had then—wide-eyed, carnivorous. gently, you pulled her closer, brushing your lips against hers. the room smelled of apple blossoms and her intoxicating scent.
“yes,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.
satisfied, she lowered her mouth back to your neck. at that moment, you could have mistaken her for a vampire—hunting for your pulse, for that line of forever-promised blood.
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
“ambessa.”
“hmm?” she answered, her hand tightening where it reigned on the nape of your neck.
she had you face down with your ass up, her other hand holding you at the small of your back as she thrust into you. you let out a high moan as she began to move faster, her cock moving deeper as you bore down on her.
“you feel so fucking good, sweetheart. so tight and sweet for me. it’s almost as if you haven’t been touched in a long while.”
“bessa—” you choked out, and she let out a laugh.
“oh, baby. i know that’s not true.” bending forward to brace herself on the bed, she began to pump into you. “you were always so hungry for it, so eager. i know you’ve probably stuffed yourself every single night since i’ve been gone.”
you whimpered, drool beginning to spill from your lips.
“but it didn’t feel like this, did it?”
“no,” you answered, squealing as ambessa brought a hand down on your ass. “no, baby. i can’t take care of myself like you do.”
“no,” she agreed. “you can’t. you just get so stupid when you’re fucked. you have no chance of doing this alone. not well, at least.”
“bessa, please,” you mewled.
with a bored sigh, she tightened her grip around your band of hair and yanked your head back, pounding into you with predatorial precision. you moaned as she began to focus on your g-spot, pulling your head back roughly to further increase her control.
“shit, bessa. fuuuuuck.”
“yeah?”
all thoughts were being fucked out of your head. you managed to get a hand on your clit, rubbing furiously to add stimulation.
“uh, uh, uh. oh, fuck. holy shit. ambessa, fuck. please, baby. please don’t stop.”
for a moment, she paused, and you remembered how cruel she could be. tenderly, she turned you over on your back and slid back in, placing your hands on the back of your thighs so that you were holding yourself open. with a grunt, she sunk deep until her hips were once again clapping against your ass.
a strong hand came down, fingers hooking into your mouth and tugging till she could see your teeth. you felt like an animal.
“stop fucking talking,” she told you, and you nodded, spit slicking all over your mouth and her fingers. “good girl.”
the praise settled on you, and you moaned weakly. her next thrust hit you like a line of coke. she was pressing into you, working for something. you weren’t sure what, but you could feel the way she was aiming to break you in.
“come on,” she murmured, retracting her fingers to grope roughly at your tits. “say it.”
your brow furrowed, and she came to a slow, gradual stop. sliding out, ambessa crawled onto the bed and placed a hand on your chest. you watched her, eyes large and glittering with tears. her breasts hung heavy over you, ripe and full with age. you wanted to suck and bite her nipples till she was shaking on the bridge of your nose, pussy-deep into your throat.
carefully, she slipped the holster from her hips and removed the girthy dildo from where it sat, slick with your heat and arousal.
“maybe this will jog your memory,” she said, and you didn’t have a moment to think before her cock was in your mouth.
you choked loudly, but she paid you no mind. with a few circular motions of her wrist, she made you deepthroat every inch, her eyes darkening as you audibly gagged and sucked on it. you ran your tongue over the artificial veins, getting it as wet as possible.
you were tasting yourself, strawberry sweet with a hint of bitterness and slight musk. you could feel your cunt pulsing, fluttering as ambessa’s eyes grew darker. she prohibited you from letting your legs down, and your thighs were burning, sweat garnishing your skin with a light sheen.
you felt so exposed, so debased like this: holding yourself wide and open while gagging like a well-trained whore on the toy.
“remember now?” she asked, and you breathed hard through your nose.
you were trying, bless you, to remember, and she dropped a kiss on your cunt for the effort.
“look at this pussy, sweetheart. fuck, baby.” ambessa lifted from where she’d been dragging her free hand through your folds. her fingers were soaked. “you’re rinsing me.”
something about her tone jogged your memory, and suddenly, you knew what she wanted to hear. in your excitement, you whined, and she met your gaze. she considered you and then removed her cock from your mouth.
“mommy,” you breathed, and she smiled, her face warm and rivaling the sun.
“that’s it,” she said, pride drenching the words. “good job, sweet girl. you deserve a reward.”
you beamed and wiggled your pussy in silent demand. ambessa laughed at your eagerness, bending to kiss you. her lips trailed lower till she was mouthing over the sopping mound of your count. around and around, her tongue wet, her teeth softly grazing your clit. you snapped upward, letting go of your legs and clutching at her braids instead.
“goddamnit, ambessa! fuck!”
she continued to eat you out, shaking her head and sucking loudly. still, she found time to pinch the inside of your thigh in reprimand.
“that’s not my name, sweet girl. i won’t tell you again.”
“fuck. fuck, i’m sorry. i’m sorry, mommy. just—please.” your voice cleaved in the middle. “please, i need to cum. i want to cum so bad for you, mommy. let me. please just let me—”
with a wet pop, ambessa broke away from your swollen pussy and looked at you. you breathed heavily, eyes caught on the way she gazed at you from between your legs.
“nothing is stopping you, my love. do what pleases you.”
she lowered down again and spat right into your cunt. you let your head fall back.
“i told you,” she said. “i plan to spoil you. this will only be your first.”
and with that, she suctioned her mouth around your rosy pussy and sucked, pointing her tongue and slipping inside of you. you came with a high wail, legs clamping around her head as you bowed over her. you felt light-headed, slit open, and destroyed.
and true to her nature, ambessa never stopped.
© hcneymooners.
#ambessa medarda#arcane ambessa#ambessa x reader#ambessa x you#wlw#sapphic#lesbian#wlw smut#arcane smut#mine ; 🐎.
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Thorned Innocence
dark!joel miller x f!reader (one shot)
rating: explicit 18+ minors dni
word count: 4.1k
warnings: DDDNE, non-consensual rough sex, coercion, virginity loss, cunnilingus, substance use and drugging, age difference (19/50).
summary: on christmas eve, everything takes a dark turn when your sister has to leave, leaving you alone with her husband.
a/n: i never planned to write this, but the idea has been stuck in my mind. as a reminder, this is purely fictional, and i do not condone nor romanticize anything like this in real life. if this story is bothering you in any way, please take care of yourself. your well-being is the most important thing <𝟑. this is my first time writing smut btw and i tried my best :) also, im sorry for being inactive lately, everything keeps falling apart. ive been feeling overwhelmed and tired, but im trying to focus on writing because it helps me cope when everything feels out of control. i appreciate your support and patience, it means the world to me. thank you 𐙚
dividers by @strangergraphics
The snow falls softly outside the window, blanketing the ground in a soft, powdery white. It’s Christmas night, and the kitchen is filled with the comfortable glow of warm, dim light. The scent of freshly baked cookies fills the air as you carefully shape the dough into little deer for your sister, Ana, and her husband, Joel.
The cozy crackle of the fire in the living room adds to the peaceful atmosphere. Your heart is full of love and excitement as you can’t wait to share the little deer-shaped cookies with them.
You’ve been living under their roof for a month now, ever since your dad passed away. Your sister insists on it, not wanting you to be alone in your parents’ house, even though you’re nineteen and perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. She can’t bear the thought of you being all alone, even if you’re an adult.
She’s almost like a mother to you, despite the twenty-year age gap. Since you were a baby, she��s been there, always taking care of you to help your dad. Filling the void left by your mother, who passed away giving birth to you. That was until Joel married her when you were ten, and then she left.
Sometimes, it feels like it’s your fault that your mother isn’t here, and as a child, you would wake up in the middle of the night, crying, overwhelmed with guilt. But your sister was always there to calm you, wrapping you in her arm, and reassuring you that it wasn’t your fault. She would remind you that your mother’s love was an act of sacrifice and that you were never to blame. Her soothing words always helped lift the weight from your heart.
You love your sister deeply, and you often feel that the least you can do is show your gratitude in small, meaningful ways. Baking those cookies for her and Joel is your way of expressing how thankful you are for everything they’ve done for you.
“What are you doing, doll?” Ana asks, stepping into the kitchen with a warm smile.
You don’t hear her footsteps, and it’s almost as if she’s purposely creeping up behind you. Startled, you quickly turn around and hide the baked cookies behind your back. “Nothing,” you say, trying to act casual.
“It’s not nothing. I can smell it from upstairs. Move!” she says with a playful laugh, gently nudging you aside to peek behind you.
“No!”
Her eyes light up as she spots the deer-shaped cookies. “Oh my god, this is so cute!”
“You’re not supposed to see it now,” you say, a hint of disappointment in your voice as you cross your arms, a small pout forming on your lips.
“Well, I already saw it. Can I try one?” she asks with a teasing smile, reaching for a cookie.
“It was supposed to be a surprise, and now it’s ruined,” you reply, trying to hide a smile.
“Wait… you made this for me?”
You bow your head, trying to hide your rosy cheeks, and bite your lip before speaking softly, “Yeah… I made this for you and Joel.” Your voice is quiet, almost shy.
“You’re too sweet,” she says, her voice filled with affection. She looks at you with an expression full of love. “You didn’t have to do this, but it means so much.”
“I wanted to,” you say softly. “It’s the least I can do… for everything you’ve done for me.”
She smiles warmly and pulls you into a hug. You always love the feeling of being wrapped in her arms—it’s a warmth that feels like coming home.
“I love you, doll.”
You smile, your voice barely above a whisper as you try not to get too emotional, “I love you, too.”
“For god’s sake, just try the cookies,” you say with a playful laugh as you gently push her away, your cheeks still warm.
“Fine,” she says, grabbing one of the warm cookies and taking a bite, then she grins. “This is amazing! You really outdid yourself.”
“Really? Thanks,” your cheeks turning a little pink under her praise.
Too caught up in the moment, you don’t realize Joel has been standing in the kitchen doorway, watching the two of you all this time. It isn’t until he coughs that you notice him, his brown eyes fixed on you.
“Honey, come over here and try the cookie she made!” Ana says excitedly. “She baked these just for us.”
“Really? Reckon it’s alright if I try one, sweetheart?” Joel asks you, his voice deep with a slow southern drawl.
“Yeah, actually they’re for both of you,” you say, smiling shyly.
Joel steps closer, his hand reaching for a cookie, the other gently resting on your waist as he stands behind you a little too long. The touch lingers for a moment before he pulls back, but you remain lost in the warmth of the moment with your sister, not noticing.
Joel looks at you and speaks, “You really know how to make somethin’ special.”
You look up at him, unaware that there’s more behind his words, something unspoken. “Thanks, Joel. It’s supposed to be eaten with cold milk to taste even better.”
You cannot help but miss your dad so much. But as you stand there, surrounded by your sister’s laughter, and Joel’s quiet presence, you find comfort. It feels like the warmth of family, a sense of belonging that you’ve longed for.
The sound of the phone ringing fills the room, breaking the peaceful moment. Ana reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone, glancing at the screen before answering. “Hello?”
Her facial expression shifts, her smile fading into something more urgent. Eyes widening slightly, eyebrows furrowing with concern.
“What is it?” Joel asks.
You kneel on the couch in the quiet living room, your chin resting on your crossed arms which you fold over the backrest. Watching your sister’s car grow smaller in the distance until it finally vanishes behind the thin lace curtains.
Meanwhile, Joel watches quietly from behind, secretly enjoying the sight of you at that moment, a twisted smirk slowly forming on his lips. His thoughts drifts, imagining the feel of the silken skin of your back and waist beneath his touch, savoring the vulnerability of your posture on the couch.
“Sweetheart,” he calls for you.
You turn around and sit down, looking up at him. He can see the tears shimmer in your eyes, threatening to fall, while your soft lips slightly pouty.
“She’ll probably be back ‘fore you even wake up,” Joel says gently as he tries to soothe you.
“I know, but it’s Christmas Eve,” you speak softly. “Why couldn’t they have called another doctor instead of her?”
“Most of ‘em are probably outta town now.”
Ana suddenly had to rush to the hospital after hearing about a car accident in the local town. Joel wanted to drive her, but she firmly urged him to stay behind, telling him that she didn’t want you to be left alone on such a night. As the door closed behind her, Joel couldn’t help but feel a dark sense of satisfaction being alone with you.
“You don’t have to be sad, I’m here, little girl,” he whispers softly. Joel slides his hand gently along your soft thigh as he kneels before you. You’re so beautiful up close, like a delicate porcelain doll—fragile, with a vision of innocence.
You smile softly, sadness in your eyes. “Thank you, Joel,” you whisper, and wrap your arms around him.
The feeling of your body pressed against his sends a shiver down his spine and stirs undeniable arousal within him. His pulse quickens and he aches for more, so he holds you tighter.
It’s not just desire—it’s a need, dark, and uncontrollable.
Joel had always seen you as his wife’s little sister. He’d watched you grow up from a distance, never once thinking of you in any way other than family, you were just a kid in his eyes—until you moved in with them.
You’ve grown up and blossomed into a lovely young woman. You’re beautiful in a way that feels dangerous, almost too much to bear, and it unsettles him. You’re still shy, still that quiet little girl, but there’s something new there, something he can’t look away from.
You’ve been consuming his thoughts for the last four weeks, invading his mind, even in his sleep. To him, you are both salvation and damnation.
Joel takes a deep breath, reluctantly pulling away. His big hands gently cradle your warm cheeks as he looks into your eyes. “How ‘bout we watch somethin’ you love? Got a go-to Christmas movie?”
“Edward Scissorhands?”
He chuckles, shaking his head with a playful grin. “That ain’t a Christmas movie, sweetheart.”
“Yes, it is!”
“I don’t know ‘bout that,” he says. “But if you wanna watch it, I’m all for it.”
The rosy smile returns to your face as you nod. “Okay.”
“Alright, c’mon.”
“I’m gonna put all the cookies in the jar first. Wait for me?”
Joel sits on the couch, remote in hand, pretending to focus on the screen, but his eyes dart to the doorway every few seconds. He hears your footsteps before he sees you, and his heart flutters. You walk in, holding a small bowl of the deer-shaped cookies.
His eyes trace every inch of you, and you’re utterly unaware of it. He loves the way your lips curve, the innocent tilt of your head, your eyes blinking, like a shy little creature who doesn’t even know how dangerous it is to be this close to him.
You place the bowl on the coffee table, and you settle beside him, close enough that he can feel the warmth of your body.
As time passes, Joel’s attention drifts away from the movie. Instead, it’s entirely on you. The way your smile lights up as you watch Kim dancing in the snowfall while Edward carves an angelic ice sculpture of her. The lace-trimmed strap of your top slips from your shoulders, revealing the gentle curve of your collar bones, which move rhythmically with each breath. Your leg brushes against his, sending a wave of heat through him.
Joel shifts uncomfortably. His hand moves, adjusting the growing tension in his jeans, and he pretends to cough.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” he mutters. “Wait here.”
He leaves the room without looking at you, and all he hears is the faint sound of your soft voice saying, “Okay.”
Instead of heading to the bathroom, Joel makes his way to the kitchen. He takes a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, and takes a long swig straight from the bottle, savoring the burn.
Convincing himself that this is something he must do, he steadies his breath. There you are, oblivious, sitting innocently on the couch. Tonight, he has you all to himself, and he’s not about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.
Joel makes two cups of hot cocoa, the steam rising from the mugs. Then, he reaches into his back pocket, pulls out a bottle of Rohypnol, and crushes a pill between his fingers. He stirs the powder into your Peter Rabbit mug.
Again, he adjusts the growing tent in his jeans, the dark thrill of what he plans to do with you tonight coursing through him. A low groan escapes his lips at the sensation. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself before he grabs the mugs and heads back to the living room.
“Here, sweetheart, drink this.”
You happily take the mug from him, unaware of the danger hidden within. “Thanks, Joel!” You take a sip of the warm drink.
He returns to your side, his hand squeezes your thigh lightly. “Do you like it?” he asks with a hint of a smirk.
“Hmm, let’s try it with the cookie,” you say cheerfully, grabbing one for yourself and one for Joel, you smile innocent and unaware.
In twenty minutes’ time, he sees your eyes blinking slowly, the sleepiness overtaking you. The mug is empty in your hands.
A cruel smirk forms on his lips as he watches you in your vulnerable state. “C’mon, little girl, let’s go to your room.”
With unsettling calmness, he gently lifts your weak body, cradling you in his arms. He walks down the hall to your bedroom in the stillness of the cold night.
Your room feels dreamy and cozy, with its dim, soft, and golden light. There’s a bed with ruffled bedding, an antique wooden mirror, some pretty flowers on the dresser, and a porcelain doll sitting on your bed.
The chamber is delicate, reflecting you, Joel thinks.
He lays you down on your bed. His gaze, dark and predatory, moves over your smaller body, taking in every detail, memorizing the way you look beneath him—so beautiful and perfect.
Joel never wanted anything the way he wants you. You’ve awakened something within him—something dark and primal—that he never knew existed. It’s like a hunger that cannot be ignored, a need that must be fulfilled, or he’ll die.
He leans in, your breath warm against his skin.
“Joel,” you whisper, your drooping eyes locking with his.
Joel slowly but firmly crushes his lips against yours. He groans as he tastes the sweetness of your lips for the first time.
You begin to move beneath him in an attempt to get away, but it’s no use. He observes you struggling weakly, darkly pleased.
His kiss loses its tenderness and becomes rough and desperate. A soft whimper escapes your lips, and God, he loves that sound.
With merciless force, he pushes his tongue past your delicate lips, tasting and exploring while leaving a trail of moisture behind. The taste of you drives him wild, his grip tightens on your body.
“No…”
“It’s alright, little girl. It’s just me,” he says, his voice deep and strained with arousal.
Joel trails his lips down your neck. When he reaches the fluttering pulse at your throat, his teeth graze your flesh before he bites down, but not enough to leave a mark. Then, his tongue moves slowly, wetly, tasting your skin.
After a while, his hands move with deliberate care as he begins to undress you from your sleepwear.
Joel’s breath catches in his throat. You’re exquisite, every inch of you more perfect than he imagines. His eyes roam over your naked form, drinking in every detail. The curve of your soft breasts rises and falls with each breath.
“So pretty.”
He squeezes your breasts with his large hands and roughly sucks on your nipples, as though trying to coax something out. All the while, he ruts his hard cock against you.
The weak pressure of your hands against his shoulders and your soft whimpers, makes him groan. He can feel his cock throbbing painfully hard, pulsing beneath his jeans at the sensation.
“Joel… please.”
He leans back, pulling your nipple with him before releasing it with a soft pop, leaving trails of drool behind.
“You want more? Is that why you’re cryin’?”
He gently pushes your hair away from your tear-streaked face and he presses his lips against your damp cheeks, tasting the salt of your tears.
Then, he slowly removes your white ruched lace panties, noticing the dampness at the center. He laughs as he runs his fingers over the fabric before slipping them into his pocket.
You weakly try to close your knees, but Joel presses his fingers sharply into your skin, forcing them open. The pain makes you cry out, tears falling from your eyes.
“Pathetic,” he mutters under his breath.
Joel lets out a low groan at the sight of your little pussy. It’s glistening and swollen, and he knows that when he thrusts his massive cock inside, it will be searingly hot and impossibly tight.
“Well, look at that, such a pretty pussy, little girl,” he murmurs, his voice filled with disbelief and hunger. “And you’ve been keepin’ this from me?”
He uses his fingers to spread your folds, admiring the swollen little clit hidden beneath. It’s pulsing and gleaming in the dim light, soaking his finger.
Joel starts rubbing your swollen clit, and it doesn’t take long for you to become more wet and needy. Your tight hole clenches rhythmically around nothing as he rubs you faster, he savors the sight of it and your helpless cries.
“Jesus, baby, you’re soaking wet,” he chuckles darkly. “Ain’t nobody ever touched this sweet little pussy before, huh? So fuckin’ needy.”
“Stop,” you say breathlessly.
“Need to get my mouth on you.”
Captivated by the sight of your little cunt drooling all over your thighs, he pulls his finger away. You gasp and wail as he starts using his mouth and noisily slurping at your wet cunt.
It’s rare that he gets the chance to taste such a beautiful, untouched little pussy. And he’s going to savor every second of it.
He greedily laps at your wetness, pushing his tongue into your slit before assaulting your clit with hard and relentless strokes. Then, he lowers his face, pressing his nose into your clit as his tongue delves deeply into your core, forcing you open. His movements are wild, drilling through your cunt and pushing against your walls as his fingers painfully sink into your thighs.
He groans against you, swallowing all the sweet juice pouring from you, like a fountain of youth. “How the hell you taste this good, little girl?” he growls.
After a while, you’re trembling in his grip. Your sobs and pleas fill his ears as you weakly kick your feet against his back, your hands unable to move, futilely tugging at his salt-and-pepper hair as you cum. Your juices flooded his mouth and soaking the sheets beneath you.
“That’s my good girl.”
He feels the wetness of his precum staining his jeans, a growl escaping him as he quickly undoes his belt and takes off his pants to free his aching cock, desperate for release.
He retrieves his phone from his jeans pocket, presses record, and sets it on your bedside table, carefully angling it to capture every raw detail of the two of you before he begins.
Joel knows it’s going to hurt—his cock is massive, thick veins throbbing beneath the thin skin.
He ruts his hips against yours, his bulbous tip gathering your slickness along his hard cock. A soft whimper escapes your lips each time he brushes against your clit.
“So sensitive.”
Joel wraps the base of his girthy cock with one hand, the other finding your hip, holding you still as he lines his cock with your tiny hole and split you in half.
You whimper as you struggle with the overwhelming stretch of just the tip pressing past your entrance and start squirming. “Hurts!”
An animalistic groan escapes his lips as your pussy swallows his angry, red tip with a wet squelch and a tense pulse, stretching you open.
“You’re so goddamn tight, little girl. Fuckin’ made for me,” he grits his teeth, barely holding back.
“Hurts… stop.”
Your pretty face is flushed and streaked with tears as he watches you, lips red and swollen, whimpering in pain. He enjoys the way your face is contorted. “Be quiet, little girl.”
Joel inches his cock deeper, the earlier strokes of his tongue doing little to ease the intense stretch of your cunt around him. Patience wearing thin, he roughly forces his cock inside you in one go, nudging against your cervix, making you moan in pain.
Desire clouds his mind, blinding him to your well-being.
Your moan turns into a broken hiccup, followed by a soft sob as Joel starts to pound into your tight hole with a ruthless, brutal force.
“Joel, hurts,” you cry, your hands desperately clawing at his chest, muscles weak and useless.
“You feel so fuckin’ good, little girl,” he moans from the pleasure, his grip on your hips tightening. “Takin’ all of my cock so well. Such a good girl.”
Joel is in heaven. His eyes are closed as he focuses on the sensation of your hot, wet cunt wrapping tightly around his massive cock, his lips muttering incoherent praises for how perfect you feel. He moves faster and rougher, slamming into your little pussy with pure force, like a man possessed. “Perfect little cunt, all fuckin’ mine.”
“No, please, s-stop…”
Ignoring your pain and cries for him to stop, he continues to pound into you relentlessly, pushing you further beyond your limits. “I’m sorry, baby… it feels too good to stop.”
His darkened eyes trace every inch of you, your skin slick with sweat despite the cold weather. Your breasts bounce with each brutal trust, and his gaze locks on his cock buried deep in your swollen, red lips. The slick, blood-coated friction as he slides in and out of you fills the room with a sickening, lewd squelch, sending a shiver through him as his eyes flutter shut in dark pleasure, he lets out a low snarl.
“Look at that, little girl, we were made for each other,” his voice low and strained.
Your breath grows ragged, choking on sobs and moans, yet your back arches and hips lift, instinctively chasing his cock, your body betraying every shred of resistance.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Joel grins with dark satisfaction at the reaction he’s coaxed out of you. “Look at her, baby, drippin’ like a faucet, can’t even control herself.”
He bites back a groan, his hand sliding to your lower stomach, feeling the thick bulge of his cock pressing against his calloused palm with every deep, punishing thrust, each one slamming into your cervix with merciless force.
A warmth builds in your stomach. He grunts and curses under his breath, feeling your pussy clamping down on him, the tightness driving him wild as your body trembling as you near the edge.
“My little girl wanna cum?” he whispers in your ear, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. “C’mon, baby, cum for me.”
“Joel,” you cry.
“I know, baby,” he grunts. “I know.”
Your body quivers, eyes half-lidded as they lock with his, mouth falls open, letting out a choked moan. He relentlessly pounds into your cunt, you squeeze tightly around him, your clit twitching and pulsing. He drives you to the edge, forcing you to squirt. The hot, slick release splashed against his abdomen and thighs.
“God damn!” he growls. “Oh, that’s it, baby… good girl.”
Joel kisses you deeply. A sense of pride and bliss fills him, knowing he’s able to make you squirt on your first time.
Still rock-hard, he keeps thrusting into you after your orgasm fades, consumed by the insatiable spell you have on him. Your pussy is like a drug to him, better than anyone Joel’s ever had.
You become a crying, trembling mess beneath him, overstimulated and shaking uncontrollably, unable to endure the overwhelming thrusts.
“T-too much.”
“I ain’t fuckin’ done with you yet,” he growls into your mouth. “You’ll take every damn second I give ya, and you’ll be beggin’ before I even think ‘bout stoppin’.”
Joel pulls out sharply, slapping your swollen pussy hard, making you squeak and whimper. He manhandles you, spinning your body around and pushing your face into the pillow. He grunts loudly as he enters you again, sliding deep before his grip tightens around your waist, each thrust more brutal and faster, chasing his own release.
His chest is flush to your back. He breathes in the floral scent of your skin, his nose grazing your neck as his thrusts lose their rhythm, becoming messy and desperate.
Your walls pulse and squeeze around him once more, desperately trying to milk him dry. “Don’t worry, little girl. Gonna pump you full of my cum.”
He feels lightheaded, chest heaving with each breath, sweat glazing his skin.
The sound of your muffled moans makes his cock twitch deep inside, pushing him closer to the edge. His body quivers as the pressure inside him peaks. With a final, punishing trust, a deep, guttural whimper escapes his throat as he cums deep inside you, painting your walls with a creamy, thick white, filling you to the brim.
Your nails faintly claw at his arm, your body quivering beneath him, as your orgasm washes over you for the third time, leaving you whimpering. His heat and wetness blend with yours as he holds you close.
“You’re all mine now, baby,” he growls softly. “I’ll make sure you feel every inch of me again.”
The pill he gave you will leave you with no memory of what he does. He honestly cannot wait to collect his own personal porn collection of you next time his wife leaves the house again.
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#dark!joel miller#dark!joel x reader#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us au
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Alastor x Reader - Chest Fluff
Details: Established relationship, honeymoon phase, light teasing. You discover Alastor's chest fluff! Warnings: None, this is pure fluff - literally. No pronouns used. No use of Y/N. Not beta read as usual. Author's note: I’m fully convinced Alastor has chest fluff. I don’t have any proof except I think it’s CUTE. Word Count: 992
You’ve always loved cuddling Alastor. It’s the closest form of intimacy you had gotten so far in your budding relationship. And he was so, so comfortable.
Looking at him, you’d think he was all sharp edges and pointy teeth, but lying on his chest, as you were right now, you could swear this man was secretly a pillow.
Both of you were lying on a chaise longue in his room, soft jazz playing in the background. While he was busy reading over some papers, he’d allowed you to indulge in some cuddles, so long as you didn’t disturb him.
But you just couldn’t help yourself. You nuzzled your face into his shirt, his overcoat discarded on an armchair, and sighed.
“You’re so soft, Al.”
He peeked at you from behind his papers, a lazy grin on his face, and raised a brow at you in question.
“I’m serious, it’s like you’re a plushie. Or maybe you’re actually an alpaca demon instead of a deer. It’s as if you’re all fluffy or something.”
Alastor let out an amused laugh.
“Ha! Maybe it’s because I am.”
You raised your head to look at him. Now it’s your turn to cock an eyebrow at him.
“What? An alpaca demon?” Another laugh escaped him.
“Goodness, no! That’s a stupid notion, my dear.” He let his papers fall to the floor and gave you an amused smirk.
“It’s winter, darling. Not only do I have to deal with shedding my antlers, I also happen to grow a bit of a thicker coat of fur.”
His brows furrowed a bit in annoyance as he told you of his situation. He was obviously displeased by it, but by god, if you weren’t intrigued. You made a mental note to squeal about how openly he talked about it with you later. But for now, you needed answers.
Your gaze shifted down to his chest, now noticing that it did seem a bit fuller than it used to.
“Can I see it?” - “I beg your pardon?”
Your eyes widened at your impulsive request, as did his. Only now did you realize that that would include him dropping a layer. You’ve never seen one another in a state of undress, except perhaps in your night clothes. And even then you had both always been fully dressed.
But you made your bed, now you had to lie in it.
“U-uhm, I mean…I kinda…wanna see it..?” You stammered. You could feel your face heating up under his gaze, while his grin only grew wider. You were sure he was enjoying how flustered you were getting.
“Well, since you asked so nicely! Only because it’s you.” A dark glint flashed in his eyes as he said it. He then nodded to his shirt, challenging you to undo the buttons. “Go on, darling. Don’t be shy now.”
You sat up in his lap, head reeling and ears buzzing as if all your blood had risen to your face. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Your shaking fingers undid his bowtie first, neatly folding it and placing it on the back of the chaise. Then you reached for the first set up buttons, so close to his neck. You could swear you heard a soft chuckle as you undid them.
Your eyes flit up at him for a second, before quickly snapping back down as you caught him watching you intensely with narrowed eyes and his wicked grin.
“Stop looking at me while I do this…”
“No~.” Alastor teased.
If you could bush any further, you would.
You decided it was enough after three more sets of buttons. Now no longer focused on the task at hand, you spotted what looked like fur peeking from the gap in the shirt.
Without thinking, you spread his shirt open, even startling Alastor with your bold move. Eyes wide, you gazed at what you could only describe as soft looking brown fluff right in the middle of his chest.
If you had looked up, you’d see Alastor’s smile twitching. Now he was the one being stared at so thoroughly, and it unnerved him. He suddenly felt…exposed? Insecure, maybe? No, not him, never!
He stiffened up as he felt your fingers slowly moving through the tufts of fur, essentially stroking his bare chest.
The fur was dense and soft. Certainly made to keep him warm during the cold seasons - and possibly to serve as a pillow for yourself.
You thought it was so cute. It didn’t go at all with his reputation as the big bad Radio Demon, so it’s no wonder he keeps it a secret. A secret only you knew now.
“Wow, it’s really soft, Al! No wonder you’re so comfy all the time.” When you looked back up at him, you could see the faintest of blushes along his cheeks. You were sure your own blush was still there as well, but you felt reassured knowing that he was also affected by your intimate position.
You batted your eyelashes at him in an attempt to butter him up some more. He probably knew what you wanted to do next anyway.
“Can I..?”
He let out a theatrical sigh, but opened his arms to welcome you in.
“Fine. Since you’re being oh so sweet, my dear.”
You hummed in satisfaction and slowly laid your head down into his chest fluff. It smelled so much like him. You could hear his heart beating much faster than it had before and you grinned to yourself.
You let out another hum as you felt his arms come to rest on your back, his chest rumbling as he spoke.
“I hope you understand that this is to stay between us, darling?”
“Mhm~.” You agreed as you closed your eyes. There’s no way you would ever share this knowledge with anybody. This was just one of the many little secrets Alastor carried with himself. And this one was only for you to know.
#alastor x reader#alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#my writing#I'm obsessed with his chest fluff help
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Almost Instinctual
Alastor x pregnant!reader
‼️pregnant reader, pregnancy in general, overprotective Alastor, a bit of angst, secret pregnancy‼️
Prompt: In where you, y/n, go to the Hazbin hotel for shelter after splitting up with your previous boyfriend. And try and keep your pregnancy a secret until you find a better solution.
Part 1 (you’re here!), part 2
(I am lazy and am writing this like it’s a bunch of facts and writing specific scenes…I might rewrite when I get my laptop.)
(8 weeks/2 months)
You and your boyfriend had split up about a week ago, afraid you’ll run out of money eventually you decided that instead of staying at a creepy motel with no locks, you’d move to a free-helpful option.
Of course you felt a little bad for abusing the owners kindness, using the Hazbin hotel not for redemption, but instead for shelter and food.
Charlie had welcomed you in with open arms (literally, she squeezed you pretty hard.) and even introduced you to everyone except for two who were out running around hell.
Alastor was explained to you as a creepy, tall deer man who may sound rude but has good intentions.
And Charlie explained angeldust as a ‘work in progress’ and told her a couple stories instead of describing him.
Charlie offered you the job of receptionist, claiming that husker wasn’t exactly good with the socializing aspect of it and you happily accepted. Eyes beaming at the opportunity for a job right infront of you.
(12 weeks/3 months)
You were happily greeted with nausea every morning. The morning sickness now starting to affect you more than ever, you haven’t exactly told anyone about your pregnancy and were hoping to be out of the hotel by the time you started showing.
Now working at the hotel for a bit, you noticed that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“Are you alright y/n?” Charlie peaked her head into the bathroom; a small frown on her face as you heaved a bit, nodding.
“Yup- I’m just dandy..! Mind getting me a wet towel or something love? I think I ate something bad yesterday…” Charlie let out a little gasp and nodded, running off to god knows where just to get that little thing for you.
You had actually started to get to know the patrons of the hotel more, for example. You learned angeldust was actually the pornstar you had heard about all over social media. And he adored three things.
Making people uncomfortable.
Cocaine.
And candy crush.
Husk had given you a couple of sickness remedies, saying that they would help with stomach bugs. All natural just incase you were allergic and you slowly started to warm up to him.
Charlie and vaggie had grown to be very special to you now. Their opposite personalities absolutely making you giggle everytime you hung out with them or went out for groceries.
Now, Alastor was an odd fellow. He was a bit younger than you since you were hellbotn and all but he seemed to act older than you. Calling you things like ‘dear’, ‘Cher’, or Mon biche.
Mon biche was the most common one, and after looking it up. You realized he was calling you my doe, or just doe 90% of the time.
He definetly knew. Not letting you eat any form of ‘raw meat’ that would go on your plate and even specially making drinks for you so you felt like you could participate in drinking games without suspicion.
Overall, he was a total kitten. A bit emotionally stunted in areas of course..but he never failed to brighten the room.
(Unless he was threatening someone.)
(17 weeks/3.2 months)
You started showing, not visibly with clothing on but you were still showing when you sat down.
Your closet changed a bit, from nice outfits to usually a dress you had gotten or some high waisted sweats, trying to be as comfortable as possible in your state.
Alastor had been…odd.
He had started to let you grab his arm when going up or down the stairs, which usually during conversations he’d just stand at the bottom waiting. And he now seemed like he was constantly watching you.
Husker had done the same. The two animal demons in the hotel knowing because of a certain change in smell, it wasn’t like you didn’t know it was going to happen.
Husker had promoted for just leaving you alone and stopping the mean comments, understanding that pregnant women were a force to be reckoned with. (And you appreciated that. You had been crying earlier that day for the cookie you bought not tasting like blueberry’s.)
You cried a couple times because of angel, which Alastor just stared at you as you sniffled and attempted to keep the conversation going.
You also cried about 2 days ago because Charlie bought you a pretty necklace. It was hell.
Alastor tried to be accommodating in the field of emotional intelligence but…he failed. Making you cry more times than he could count and to be honest he only cared that he did because you were quite literally an angel to everyone.
Husker asked you in private one day if Mr smiles was the daddy to that little hellspawn and all you could do was laugh and blush a bit. Telling husker that he wasn’t and that he was just acting that way because she was a single mother.
Husker didn’t understand that, Alastor never had a soft spot for women her age.
(20 weeks/4 months)
First time you let anyone touch your stomach was during this time period, Alastor did so with adoration almost. Mentioning something about how he always had a soft spot for women with children..
You two had grown a bit closer.
Husker definitely still had his suspicions about you and the baby. He really thinks is alastors with the way he had been acting.
The red demon had gone out of his way several times to get you your weird ass cravings. One day you asked for a bite of his venison and then cried because you weren’t allowed to have it
You found him coming near you more often and asking multiple times to touch your baby bump as it grew, and everytime you let him that little tail of his would wag a bit behind him. Seemingly happy with the little life growing inside you.
He got more protective as well. Way more protective. He was your puppy that followed you around basically.
(He totally got you a bunch of ice cream, or helped you out with foods and sickness with his old man knowledge.)
(25 weeks/5 months)
If you wanna talk about awkward? Everyone in the hotel basically thought you and Alastor were a thing with how weird you two were together.
You would always be caught either straightening his bow tie or dusting off his shoulders. The term doting describing the two of you around one another.
May or may have not let it slip to Charlie that ‘it’s not like that, Alastor has said multiple times he doesn’t want to prey on pregnant women.
She asked to be the godmother.
Alastor hated the thought of that actually when you brought up that Charlie might be a good fit when he was giving you a snack. A nerve you didn’t know he had.
Soon everyone knew you were pregnant and angel was absolutely infatuated with this information. Asking who’s it is and stuff like that.
(7 months)
Alastor and you were practically a thing- he would help you out a lot and in return you’d kiss his cheek or help him out with cooking.
He practically worships the ground you walk on. Foot rubs for when they hurt, running a bath for you. Even going out of his way to compliment your outfits (even if you looked downright awful that day)
He even accompanied you to return the ring your ex gave you. Along with a couple other belongings you had from him.
Alastor may or may have not been seen with you outside , and you were mentioned by Rosie the next time.
(8 months)
Alastor and you had become somewhat official, if letting a dude fall asleep on your pregnant stomach bc he wanted to means official. Then yes( you were.
After you had a talk with Alastor about why he acted the way he did around you he simply said it was almost instinctual to take care of you. Something along the lines of him also being a gentleman.
He had invited you out to cannibal town, where you met Rosie and she was absolutely infatuated with you. Asking you questions and being so lovely towards you. Even going as far as mentioning she had her fair share of labor experience when it came to giving birth!
Alastor was very pleased to hear Rosie would help you- a bit scared she would eat the baby though…
(Part two coming out about nine months and the actual baby?)
#hazbin alastor#hazbin art#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#pregnant reader#secret pregnancy#slow burn#soft alastor#deer man
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