#he literally closed off a part of himself when that happened so he’s not going out immediately and finding someone.

[yanderedrabbles]

Private Military Contractor - Yandere Noncon

Yandere Male x Fem Reader Heavily inspired by this incredible fic.

He took you. Plucked you straight off the street on the way back from class. He must have known your routine down to a tee, because he did it all with a casual, brutal efficiency. Parking his rented van on the quietest road on your route, stacking a ladder and some paint cans outside so you'd think he was just a regular workman. The door open and waiting just for you, though you didn't know it yet.

You remember greeting him ‐ a quick good morning to be polite - without stopping or even really looking at him. You walked a little bit past the van without realising he was following you. Oblivious right up until the moment he grabbed you, one paw against your mouth to swallow your scream.

He was quick. So ruthlessly quick. Yanking you inside the van and closing the door before you even fully registered what was happening.

He wants you around for one thing and one thing only. He made that abundantly clear on the first day, when you were scarcely through the front door and he was already tearing off your skirt. He would have fucked you in the van the second he took you if he thought he could get away with it.

He isn't gentle. He bends you over the couch with your wrists held together in the small of your back. If you squirm too much, he twists your arm so hard you scream that he's going to break it.

He fucks you dry. Shoving himself inside of you despite how tight you are, how unready and unwilling. He groans at the first thrust, so obscenely satisfied. Like he's finally tasting a prize long differed.

He doesn't last long during the first round. Spilling himself into you after less than three minutes.

He's big - too fucking big. The cum that drips out of your cunt is tinged pink with blood. If he notices it, he doesn't care. He just stands there for a minute, stroking himself hard again and then it's time for round two. Your tears haven't even had time to dry.

He fucks like a soldier in a foreign war zone. Taking, claiming, stealing. It doesn't matter that you're not his to have; he has his guns and his training and to him that's all the reason he needs.

He fucks like he hasn't had a woman in years. With all the pent up energy of long, lonely nights spent in the ugliest parts of the world. He fucks you like a man who's finally gotten his hands on the fantasy he's nursed through all the worst moments of his life.

He fucks like he's terrified of losing you now that he finally, finally has you.

You can't stand after he's done with you. Your cunt burning so bad you think you're on fire from the inside out. He doesn't care that you hang limp from his grip. He just picks you up and tosses you over one broad shoulder and takes you to his bedroom.

You come out of your shock only when you feel the handcuffs closing around your wrist. He's literally chained you to his bed.

You start screaming again then. Frightened and begging and finally realising that this is really happening. It's not a bad dream or a story on the news, it's actually fucking happening to you.

He ignores you, pulling off his heavy combat boots and locking his pistol in the draw across the room. Maybe he's waiting for you to tire out, for your throat to start hurting and for you to quiet down. You don't.

He sighs like you're nothing more than an inconvenience and then slaps you so hard your ears ring and white dots spark across your vision.

His use of violence is so causal, so easy. It's shock that keeps you quiet more than the pain.

Before evening on the first day, he fucks you four more times. He doesn't listen when you beg him to be gentle, beg him to go slow. He ignores you when you plead with him to fuck your mouth instead, as much as he wants, just so long as he gives your pussy a break.

Men like him exist on the knife edge between life and death. Is it any surprise that it leaves its mark? That he wants to take whatever pleasure he can because god alone knows how much time he has left?

He doesn't kiss you until the very end, when he's deep between your thighs and you've dug your nails so deep into his back that you're going to leave scars. He kisses you when you're too hurt and sore and scared to turn away. He kisses you and it feels like he's finally staking his claim. Like part of him didn't believe you were real until he'd fucked you again and again and there was no one to stop him.

The next morning, he shoves a bitter tasting pill under your tongue and keeps his hand over your mouth until he's sure it's dissolved.

"No kids," he says simply and it makes you want to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Yeah, you agree silently, no fucking kids. Especially not if you're the father. Especially not in a world where men like you exist.

He has an appetite that's borderline impossible to satisfy. Once he starts kissing you, he doesn't stop. Teeth nipping at your lips until you give in and even then it's not enough. He wraps one massive hand around your throat and squeezes.

"Kiss me back," he breathes, his lips just an inch from yours.

You kiss him and he takes it like you're everything he's ever dreamed about, the prize he's somehow earned.

After that, he spends a lot more time exploring your body. It's like he needed to get some of that desperation out of his system before he could think straight.

He's less feverish when he touches you, but no less impatient. He pries your thighs apart with one brutal yank and drops his face to your pussy. You try and jerk away from him, try and close your legs despite the massive forearms keeping them spread. You don't want him there. It's too intimate, it's too vulnerable. Hasn't he taken enough?

He licks you like he has no shame. Not even a little shy about having his tongue deep in your cunt. He tries different tricks - slow and sensual, rough, tight little flicks. He doesn't seem to care how you respond to any of it. It's more so an experiment to see which way he enjoys eating you out.

You cum on his tongue, your eyes screwed shut in guilt. You hope he won't notice, hope he'll just get bored and leave you alone.

He growls in a pleased sort of way, looking up at you with his mouth and chin slick. Oh, he definitely noticed.

You can't meet his eyes after that.

He's not a doomsday prepper. Or at least not exactly. But everything he has is off the grid. A house with its own solar panels and borehole, no technology except for his old fashioned satellite phone.

He doesn't talk much. Not even when he's fucking you. You might get the occasional good girl or a snarl for you to take it, take it just like that.

But he doesn't talk. Doesn't comfort you, doesn't insult you, doesn't even explain himself. (Though you suppose the way he holds you at night - tight, like you're going to be ripped away from him if he doesn't sink his claws in - is explanation enough).

He has money. Blood money you suppose. He doesn't go to work or leave the house much but still manages to buy you all sorts of expensive things. Silk negligees, satin panties, scented candles that melt into body oil. You aren't sure why he bothers. He's usually too impatient to appreciate any of it - most of the panties end up a torn, wet mess by the time he's done with you.

You look through his closet one day. There's a box full of military patches - Blackwater, Raytheon, MPR, a dozen more you don't recognise. And you know for a fact they aren't just some stupid collectibles, aren't there just so he can play out some militaristic power fantasy. He really worked for these companies. The patches feel real - their quality designed for hard weather and harder work. You understand him a little better after seeing them.

You don't know him. Don't recognise him in the slightest. He's a stranger to you - to the point you don't even know his name. At first you assume he took you because you were the only one stupid enough to get caught. But a few days with him and you realise that's not true at all. He knows you.

He feeds you your favourite cereal every morning, even though you can tell by his frown that he doesn't approve of your dietary choices. He has a closet packed full of your clothes. You thought he somehow raided your house but it's all new. He went out and bought exact copies of all your regular outfits, down to the tiny Victoria's Secret thongs that you like.

How? How could he gather so much information about your life while you didn't even realise you were being watched?

He takes you down to his basement one day, when you've been particularly insistent about asking him who he is. There are rows and rows of guns. Semi and fully automatic rifles, sniper rifles, shotguns. Shit you aren't even sure is fully legal.

You aren't sure why he's showing you this. Is he trying to scare you? Is he trying to goad you into escaping just so he'll have an excuse to punish you?

You look into his eyes - monster, monster in the shape of a man - and finally realise what he's trying to say.

No one is coming to save you. No one even knows where you are. But if by some slim chance they try and take you away, they'd better hope to be fucking bulletproof.

You stop asking him about himself after that.

He decides he wants anal one day in the shower. He's pressed up against your back and running his cock up and down between your ass. The tip keeps getting caught on your puckered entrance and maybe that's what puts the idea into his head.

You're too slow to realise what he's planning and he has one thick hand gripping the back of your neck before you can even think of running.

It's slow, painful going. He wants to shove himself in like he always does but the nature of it stops him. The tip is the worst part. You bite your lip so hard you can taste blood, your hands and tits both pressed up against the glass.

He presses his lips against your temple, watching your face screw up as he gets deeper.

"It's okay to cry."

There's a sick pleasure to his voice. He flicks your clit and your entire body clenches around him. He hums at that, amused and pleased.

And the worst part? He somehow makes you come. When he's finally loosened you up enough to start thrusting, he hits something deep inside you. He notices it - he notices everything about you. He laughs a little and slips his fingers into your pussy. That's all it takes to send you crashing over the edge, your whole body pulsing and aching all at once.

"That's what I like about you," he snarks into your ear when he's done, "I can make you come no matter how much you don't want it."

He turns you around and looks down at you. The expression on his face makes you want to vomit. He looks at you with a kind of loving softness. A tenderness that ignores all the awful, awful things he's done to you.

If you didn't realise it already, you knew it for a fact right then and there.

He's never going to let you go.

He takes your chin between his fingers and pulls you onto your tip toes to kiss him.

"Why?" you ask for the millionth time since he took you. And for once, he answers.

"Because I could. Because I can."

[merakiui]

jade is absolutely getting off to the thought of drugging you up with mushrooms and then using them to fuck you

Oh, most definitely. 😌

“You’re an ash-hole,” is the first thing to tumble out of your mouth. The insult isn’t nearly as biting as you’d hoped it would be, for the slurred way in which you pronounce the expletive dulls its sharpness tenfold. It does earn you a quirk of the mouth from Jade. The exact opposite of what you wanted.

You’re sweating out of your skin, body temperature rocket-high. It almost rivals the stifling humidity of the off-campus woods, which you think might be your resting place if whatever shit Jade spiked your salad with stops your heart. Pre-hike salad, your foot!

He’s found a comfortable clearing, the lush grass more inviting than the cool breeze tickling your cheek. It feels like the wind has a dozen tiny tongues and they’re all lapping at your face. With a shiver, you smack Jade’s arm away when he offers to ease you down. The world is breathing beneath you. The tree trunk you prop yourself against has a heartbeat, and you watch the lines in the bark undulate like saltwater waves.

“As a member of the Mountain Lovers’ Club,” Jade says, lowering to his knees in front of you, his backpack now shrugged off. When you blink, he’s right in front of you next, checking to make sure you’re still lucid. Mostly. “You must be able to discern dangerous flora from the safe ones. The mushrooms mixed in with your salad have hallucinogenic properties. In small amounts, they’re fine. Quite the exciting trip, one might say. But there are some species that have hazardous effects…��

You squeeze your eyes shut again and inhale a shuddering breath. There are spiders beneath your eyelids and in your skin. It prickles. You move to slap nothing off your arm and find that, in the seconds or maybe minutes your world has been turned over, your shorts have been shucked down to your ankles. Jade’s spidery digits creep in close, parting your legs, sliding along your hole through the fabric. You’d kick him if your body wasn’t so keen on melting like candle wax. All you can do is wilt and take in big gulps of air as he presses in, fingers curling beneath your underwear, prodding inside such a private, sensitive place. You’re not sure how much time passes. You swim in and out of consciousness, occasionally snapping back to yourself like a boomerang.

When you come to, it’s with a keening cry and he hums, sounding quite pleased. You’re not sure how or when it happened, but you came around his fingers. The embarrassment doesn’t settle for long, not when your skeleton is jittering in its fleshy confines. You think you might be sick. Something is crawling up your throat. Hands? Vomit? It feels weird. Just what was in that salad? What terrible mushroom did he experiment with this time?

And that’s just it. Everything he does is experimental. Never on himself. You’d quite like that—to give him a literal taste of his own medicine and watch him crumple. What a glorious day that would be.

Like a surgeon, Jade slips a pair of latex gloves on. For a horrified moment, you wonder if he really is going to bury you out here. But instead he procures a particularly sizable mushroom from a plastic bag. It looks familiar, but right now there are a dozen names rushing through your mind and none of them can be correct. You watch with even more horror as he tears a little square package open and slides the condom over the mushroom’s stipe, all business. Perfectly clinical.

“Today, we’re going to learn to identify mushrooms and their uses.” He beams. “Starting with this one.”

“I…” Your tongue feels all wrong. Numb. Too long. And then too short. You try to pronounce your next words, but they come out in a messy splutter.

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s edible.” Jade smiles angelically.

Gee, thanks for the help. That narrows it down by a lot, you think, sarcastic.

“Maybe this will jog your memory,” he adds, and when you blink the stipe is pushing against your puckered hole. His fingers are wrapped gently around the cap of the mushroom, holding it steady.

“Wha…” You attempt to crawl back from him, but the tree holds you firm. “Jade—”

“It’s a very popular ingredient in soups and risotto,” he continues, undeterred in his approach.

You dig your fingers into the ground and rip up clumps of grass. It feels wrong. Intrusive. This strange, foreign thing. You squirm weakly, but it doesn’t shake him off.

Dunno, you think, your mouth moving mutely.

“It’s part of the genus Boletus.”

Oh, you hate him something fierce. This smart-ass eel. As if you’d know the scientific name or the genus and whatever-heenus-gleenus. You’ll kill him.

Not really. Because who could kill Jade Leech? Not you.

But the feeling comes something close to death as you imagine yourself weaponizing the blazing sun in your scowl and burning a hole through him like he’s an ant under a magnifying glass. Instead, your expression falls and you give a short, sweet whine. The mushroom presses in shallowly. Jade watches with a delight that can only be described as exhilaration. His smile is preternatural.

It turns out it’s a penny bun. Boletus edulis. He tells you that halfway into working the thick mushroom in and out of you.

“I’m sure you’ll have better luck with the next one,” he assures, and then you see it. The many mushrooms packed neatly away in his backpack, each one packaged in that chilling, serial-killer-like precision only Jade Leech could have.

[theknightlywolfe]

This is an interesting idea. Jayce the council leader with Caitlyn as his sheriff would work well for the post memorial attack. They already showed a scene with Ambessa testing him and that could have continued as she played different cards with different councilors while Mel tries to outmaneuver and neutralize her. It also makes sense then that Caitlyn would even be allowed to officially launch a strike team into Zaun. Its one thing to use her family name and influence to put together a strike team, its another entirely to declare her family the ultimate authority in where Enforcers go so she can do it herself whether the council approves or not. (Also we could see more of the growth of Caitlyn and Vi's relationship with the extra time we had lost so the split hits us harder and the rebound with Maddie makes more sense when they happen instead of the time from start to end being like an hour.)

We could have then had a bit of a schism between Jayce and Mel as they focus on their respective self-imposed tasks. Jayce ruling and worrying about Viktor and Mel sabotaging her mother's schemes and them both arguing over the creation of the hexweapons. Still friendly but everything else cools, which would explain the subdued reunion when they both get back. Then Viktor wakes up and leaves and Jayce throws himself fully into ruling. So when Heimerdinger brings Ekko in Jayce sleeping in his lab may have started because of Viktor but continues because he needs to stay close to deal with emergencies. Black Rose attacks Ambessa and Mel starts to poke at that story to have evidence to get her mother out of the literal halls of Piltover power. They also deal with the effect it has to lose the head of the merchants, because that was a major player in Piltover gone and it is going to have an effect. Maybe Jayce orders Caitlyn to focus the Enforcers on the investigation and leave the check points to the Noxians, which would explain why they end up such a major part of the "police" efforts.

Then the three disappear at the hexgate and there actually is a full on power vacuum that needs filling. Mel responding to that and trying to prepare for the move she knows her mother is about to make and then gets taken by the Black Rose. Because one then the other happens it is easier to point the finger at Zaun and David Bowie Salo being one of the last original councilors expects to step in.

And Ambessa, who has been studying/keeping an eye on Caitlyn via Maddie as well as training her in combat, choosing Caitlyn doesn't come from a single off handed comment but an actual analysis. And so many people responding positively would actually make sense. Yeah, she didnt get Jinx but in her time as Sheriff Jinx stopped attacking Piltover so she must have managed something. She is also seen to have managed to integrate Noxian troops with the Enforcers to strengthen the bridges and set up the check points. (I never understood why everyone not Loris jumped at the chance to promote her, she's 20 something and was a glorified traffic cop because her mother didn't want her at risk). And having her train with Ambessa as part of that integration under Jayce's order also makes her "I know!" moment make more sense. Yes she knows Ambessa was trying to manipulate her, but she was under orders from Jayce both to learn from and keep an eye on Ambessa so she couldn't walk away or argue too much.

And season 2 ends with martial law in Piltover and Caitlyn being made the military ruler. (We also would have had time to see more of the Chem Barons and the rise of Jinxters and Jinx and Isha and Jinx and Sevika in s2 as well as Vi's descent into drunken brawler.)

Start season 3 showing that Ambessa used the chaos of the transition to move her people more prominently into the check points and council security. Because it made no sense that Noxians almost completely replaced Enforcers in the show. And now Caitlyn has been dealing with unwillingly being pushed into filling the role of leader of Piltover where Jayce had been, she is resentful of the manipulations she knows Ambessa has been trying, and she is frustrated by Noxians pushing out her people. But now as leader she is too busy to do anything about it just keeping Piltover going, and they have time to show us that, and Ambessa's consolidation of power as General replacing the Sheriff also makes more sense.

It also makes more sense that she had been doing research on things like who Singed is as part of her campaign to get rid of Shimmer. She would have had the time and resources as Sheriff that as ruler it made no sense for her to spend time on. Her mistrust of Ambessa enough to follow her after the attack on the prison and find where Singed was also would make sense to the audience, because we saw her only tolerate Ambessa at Jayce's orders. The use of excusively Noxians to get Warwick works because we've had a chance to see them being moved into place rather than them suddenly being everywhere instead of the Enforcers.

And in contrast to Caitlyn's descent into frustration with gaining power and losing choices Vi and Jinx reuniting for Vander and working through their issues with each other provides a positive foil for the start of the season. Then when Vi and Caitlyn meet again Caitlyn turning on Ambessa makes sense as does them trusting each other for this plan. We also might understand Caitlyn having some sympathy for Jinx, having watched her too thrust into a situation where she did things because of the disappearance of a sibling and experienced having a powerful, manipulative force step in in the moment of her grief trying to turn her into something else.

It also means that Jayce returning and assuming he can just call on the great Houses of Piltover and convince them to go to war isn't pure arrogance. Last time he was there he was their ruler, not a man who tried to quit the council and then hid from his duties. Also the wide range of hexweapons in the final battle aren't a head scratcher. As ruler he would have been able to order their production based on the work he'd done for Caitlyn's team and their placement around the capitol building. Because it made no sense watching Ambessa sacrifice scientists trying to figure out Hextech just for the final battle to have like two days to prep from his return and somehow have giant Hextech powered defensive turrets ready to go.

And the sudden return of the Enforcers also would have made more sense as Caitlyn would return to being Sheriff and could focus on moving her people back into the jobs the Noxians had pushed them out of and preparing for the attack. I have no idea who did the work in the show because Jayce was trying to take over the council to get them to prepare while snap inventing and building hextech weapons, and Caitlyn wasn't shown to be involved with that at all and seemed to end up demoted to strike team captain again. She sure as heck wasn't coordinating the defenses in the battle (nor was Jayce for that matter and they didn't seem to appoint either a General or Sheriff, people just manned a spot and fought without a central command). The only person available in the show is Mel, who very well might have the training, but she wasn't shown actually doing it. (Honestly Maddie commanding the strike team in the fight while Caitlyn as Sheriff coordinated defenses would have made so much more sense and given her betrayal an extra edge because she'd earned a command just to sell her own team out.)

Yeah, Jayce being leader and Caitlyn being Sheriff for a large chunk of the storylines, along with at least an extra act but ideally an extra season, would have made a lot of things make more sense than what we were shown in s2.

The thing that bugs me most about Caitlyn's arc is how obviously she was forced into the position Jayce had been set up to fill.

Jayce was the de facto head of the council that Sheriff Marcus (keep that in mind) reported directly to for city security.

He was the Golden Boy, Man of Progress, beloved by everyone in Piltover for the invention of Hextech! Charismatic! Handsome!

They didn't NEED martial law. After Jayce emerged unscathed from the terrorist attack, most of the council dead, Piltover would have been falling over itself to give him sole authority regardless of him wanting to quit the council right before the attack.

And Jayce should have been beside himself with rage! Jinx turned his invention, his dream, into a weapon that nearly killed him and the two people he loves most! Mel and Viktor, at the same time! She ruined his peace deal! (And killed Silco, but for some reason Cait and Vi never tell anyone about that)

But nope. He's just sad, and tries to talk Caitlyn down from wanting to kill Jinx.... Like wtf!! Where did his passion go?? His recklessness? Caitlyn got it all.

Let's say he's still reeling after killing the kid in his shimmer raid and fearing the consequences of violent intervention. Fine. But then there is the attack at the memorial. Now it's bigger than Jinx, and his entire city is threatened.

Picture the end of episode 1, with the council gathering in the basement after the memorial attack and it is JAYCE marching in to announce the strike team, with Caitlyn and Vi beside him, with their shiny Hextech weapons.

They didn't need to give Caitlyn political power. She could have become Sheriff under Jayce! She would have had nearly the EXACT same scenes. She doesn't get a single moment where she acts like a political leader in Act 2 anyway!

We never see her do anything the sheriff wouldn't do, which tells me this was a late change to cram all the remaining story into one season, to every character's detriment. If Caitlyn had just been following Jayce's orders until running into Vi, her flip would not have felt so jarring.

She loves Jayce as an older brother, she's grieving her mother, she and Jayce could have BOTH been manipulated by Ambessa. Let Caitlyn be at the forefront of all the awful shit she's ORDERED to do, instead of ordering it HERSELF.

By giving her ultimate authority instead, the few clipped scenes of her redemption, her "I know" and letting Jinx go free are nowhere near enough to get the audience back on her side. As evidenced by how many people hated her arc this season.

[moonshynecybin]

do you think rosquez in their toxic era would cheat on each other (Debatable if they had a non toxic era). i mean in their toxic era they are probably not together together (lol if they even define the relationship) but you know like, spiritually cheat on each other in the sense that one goes and fucks some random thinking about how mad the other will be the whole time.

in no scenario do i think they cheat on each other if they are fucking, even if they haven’t talked about it like genuinely i think they would both go full fatal attraction and there would be no survivors. mutually assured destruction the FULL gone girl. if you’re asking me if they fucked other people post sepang i think vale yes but he doesn’t feel good about it bc he’s not over marc and if marc does it is RARE and CASUAL and even then i think he holds out too much naive romantic earnest hope for vale to forgive him until like. 2018. so short answer no

[rafesweetie]

rafe accidentally making a habit out of slapping bsf!readers ass and it becomes normal for them but he does it at a party or smth and nobody else thinks it's normal

ugh yes like it’s literally a goonfest between those two and everybody has to take a second look!!! im imagining s1 rafe here.. and his annoying friends… yummy!

rafe and you had a special bond, as you put it. truthfully, you were always a bit hazy anyway, eyebrows often furrowed in confusion when rafe’s discussing his business to you, or asking him to look things up for you. you wouldn’t call yourself stupid — just easily confused and sometimes unsure. so that’s where bsf!rafe comes in. he swooped into your life before you knew it, instantly attaching himself to the pretty girl who must need her knight in shining armor. you weren’t really sure how you got so close, but it happened.

it was innocent, for the most part. and i say that wholeheartedly. movie nights at your place, helping him babysit younger wheezie, going for ice cream. you didn’t act romantic, he was just like your bodyguard. well — your overly touchy bodyguard. his hands often found his way on your body to guide you through crowds and lead you places or simply hold you close when you were tired.

whenever you’d go somewhere without him, parting ways in your houses to get a drink and whatnot, he’d playfully slap your ass to shoo you away. it was meant ‘innocently’, or so you thought, but he did secretly love feeling it for the brief seconds he’d touch it.

rafe decided to make the brave decision of inviting you to one of kelce’s parties. you’ve been hanging off his arm the entire time, which earns some glances and whispers of ‘is that is girlfriend?’, only for the rumours to fizzle out when he’d be touching another girls waist whenever you were gone to the washroom.

sitting beside him while he deals coke on the low, he keeps his bicep around your shoulders as you chat up the people who want coke, because your sweet personality attracts business for your friend.

after about half an hour, you’re pawing at his salmon coloured polo and telling him that you’re gonna go get a drink. normally, he’d come with you, but he was in the middle of pouring a line for a girl with eyelashes that are falling off of the corners of her eye, so he just nods.

with a pat of your ass when you get up, sticking his hand up your skirt a little bit before you walk away, he barely notices all the confused stares in his direction. that is, until kelce is patting his back, saying, “bro! you finally bagged her, huh?”

he blinks. “the fuck d’you mean?”

“c’mon, man, smacking her little ass,”

“oh. no, we’re just friends, bro, just a.. habit, or whatever,”

topper chimes in. “dude, you don’t do that to friends. what, you hook up on the low or something? s’not normal to smack a friends ass, man,”

“me next, rafe?” kelce laughs.

“hey — bro, she’s coming, be chill,” rafe shoves his friends.

you come back and sit beside rafe again, blinking up at his annoyed face. “what?”

“no, nothing y/n, s’all good,”

“yo, y/n,” topper’s hand lands on your knee to get your attention and rafe pulls it off without thinking. “rafe smacks your ass, huh? think it’s normal?”

“gonna beat you with a golf club, man,” rafe mutters as you nod your head.

“yeah, why? he’s just teasing,”

topper and kelce laugh and you’re not sure why. all you can hope is that rafe doesn’t stop doing it anytime soon.

[minkoq]

hmmmm angry fuck w bakugou listennn hear me outttt yall was arguing it’s heated nd turned into an angry fuck

🍓 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

angry sex with katsuki bakugou; fem! reader (aged up)

warnings: nsfw, insults, mean! katsuki, facefucking, deepthroating, impact play, degradation kink, 69, spitting, breath play, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, p in v, mating press, dirty talk, dacryphilia, creampie

a/n: most filthy smut i've ever written. enjoy :D

first of all, katsuki doesn't get that mad at you. and when he does, he usually wants to communicate his problems with you properly than to just bottle it up and then to snap at you. but today was way different.

you both walking through the front door, he was walking in front of you as you walked behind him with your gaze to the floor. "katsuki, i'm sorr-" he cut you off with a sharp glare before speaking up himself, "shut. up." his voice was on edge, "sorry won't cut it this time."

he was seething, and you knew it. "i told you there was a villain in the area, and you still decided to come to my agency! are you stupid?" he didn't mean to raise his voice, but he was so fucking worried about you. "you would've been dead by now if i wasn't there!" the thought of anything happening to you made his heart ache.

you bit the inside of your cheek as you listened to his words, "i just wanted to see you.." your voice trailed off, katsuki's eye twitched in annoyance. "and i told you to stay home! we see each other everyday, are you so dumb that you can't realise any dangers?"

these were the last words he said to you before going upstairs to your shared bedroom, to cool off probably. when the sun began to finally set and the moon came up you decided to go to sleep, and apologise to him. properly. he must've been so worried about you, you're his fiancé, he's literally planning on marrying you, and you still decided to be this reckless.

you opened the bedroom door ever so gently, closing the door behind you with a soft click. you stood awkwardly at the door, eyeing his back as he sat on his side of the bed, you took a deep breath in. the mattress dipped underneath your weight as you sat beside him. "i just missed you all day."

you probably shouldn't have said that, this just made him angry again. reminded him of how stupid you are sometimes, just when you wanted to lean in to kiss him he grabbed your chin softly. his sharp eyes gazed over your face. "missed me?" he scoffed out, "is this what this is all about?"

your cheeks heated up when he finally found you out, "are you such a stupid slut that you need to come to my agency to get your filthy pussy filled?" he asked you as he got up from the bed, towering over you as your chin was still in his grasp. his jaw clenched at your silence, "answer me."

"yes," you whimpered out, "dumb fucking girl." katsuki shot back at you, "i'll give you what you wanted right now, how does that sound?" he asked you as he slowly undid his belt and unzipped his pants.

you just nodded shamelessly as your beady eyes looked up at him, "words," he just hissed out. "sounds good, y.. yeah. yes." you stumbled over your words, it made him smirk. you were amusing him. "good."

and this is how you ended up sprawled naked on the bed whilst his meaty cock thrusted into your mouth, he gave no regards to how rough he was being. he parted your legs with his hands as his hips slammed down onto your chin and mouth. your gurgles and suffocated moans sounded truly filthy, he pressed his whole cock down your throat as his balls sat perfectly at your nose. "fuck," he groaned out as he rubbed your leaking pussy with his fingers.

"this is what gets your stupid pussy wet? having my fat cock fucking your throat? disgusting." he spat at you as he picked up his pace once more, he didn't even give you time to catch your breath properly as you downed his cock. his breath was fanning over your heated pussy, your clit twitched. "fuck, she's leaking." katsuki raised your hips as he slowly dragged his tongue down your cunt.

you moaned onto his cock, you could barely taste the salty pre cum from how fast his girthy cock thrusted into your throat. he raised his hand and roughly slapped your pussy. you choked on his cock, the numbing pain got to your head. your cunt aching from the pain but you wanted more, needed more. and he knew it too by how much your pussy continued leaking.

his hips stuttered as he felt himself close, but he picked up his pace once more before shooting his load down your throat without warning. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you squealed onto his cock, which was muffling every noise. you choked as his semen spurted into your mouth, barley being able to breathe.

he took his hard dick out of your mouth, so you could finally catch your breath. you wheezed as he changed positions and kneeled down beside you, his length still stood proud and stiff between his legs. his left hand was roughly kneading your tits as his right hand assaulted your cunt. "such a fucking slut, huh?" he spat out in a mocking tone.

your moans were strained as his fingers found your entrance, roughly spreading your pussy as he thrusted two of his big fingers in. you squirmed and squealed on his fingers, your pussy clenching down onto him and never wanting to let go. "you're so desperate," you could just nod your head stupidly at his words. your legs were shaking at his rough treatment.

you felt the knot in your stomach snap and your pussy was gushing out all the clear liquid, his pace didn't go down, even when you squirted like a fountain. your high pitched moans were truly music to katsuki's ears. he wouldn't let you calm down once tonight.

your orgasm quickly turned into overstimulation, your head was thrown back in pleasure. "makin' a mess? gross." he hissed at you with a mocking laugh, your cunt was all wet and puffy, your clit twitching. he removed his fingers from your used pussy and smacked his hand down on it once more.

you couldn't even form a coherent sentence, your mouth spilling with whimpers, moans, groans, squeals. oh, you were being so loud. katsuki shifted once more, he kneeled down on the wet spots on the bed. his fat cock slapping against your wet core. "let's see if she can handle this one." he groaned out.

and with that he thrusted his whole cock inside your twitching pussy, reaching to your cervix as your hands gripped the sheets. you cried out, you babbled dumbly as he forced your ankles up over his shoulders and slowly leaned down. he pressed your ankles onto the mattress beside your head.

somehow his cock reached even deeper, his tip kissing your cervix with every shove. "k.. ka.. katsukiii..!" you gasped out, your spongy walls were quivering under his abuse. "shut the fuck up." he hissed out as his balls slapped against your plumpy ass.

being folded in half like this made you see stars, his whole body was pressed on top of you as he basically split you in half on his cock. your pussy could only squirt in return, all your liquid shooting onto his cock, just making everything sound way more lewd. plap, plap, plap.

your mouth hung open, by now tears were streaming down your face. you weren't sure how much more your poor pussy could handle, but you needed to find out. this all was so overwhelmingly great, no need to think of anything besides this fat cock breaking your pathetic cunt.

"gonna fill this stupid girl," he groaned out as his thrust grew harsher, "yes.. yes. oh, yeah, yes!" you moaned out stupidly, he gave your pussy a few rough but slow thrusts as he shot his second load into you. "fuck," he groaned out as he rode out his orgasm. his cock twitching as his cum spurted into your puffy pussy. he took his cock out, many strings of semen connected him to your abused cunt. he smacked it a few times as his white sticky cum dripped out of your pussy onto your asshole. you were quivering, "let's stuff this one too, yeah?" katsuki laughed out as he smeared his cum onto your asshole. you just nodded dreamily.

[cravinghexstrap]

ANYTHING EKKO X READER X JINX IDCCCCC 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

I GOTCHUUUUUU

Literally dream threesome.

Jinx is insane but Ekko makes sure she doesn’t go too far. She most definitely loves making sex toys for you to try out in the bedroom. She’ll tie you both up, facing each other and go to town. She’ll put a cock ring on Ekko and attach a vibrator to your clit, stimulating you both. If she’s feeling mischievous she’ll leave you both there for hours as she plans out how to torture you both next.

You and Jinx love taking care of Ekko. He deserves it, you know? He’ll be sitting in between Jinx’s legs as you go down on him. She’ll whisper dirty things into his ears, telling him what a good boy he is and he can’t help but cant his hips into your mouth which causes you to gag.

Hearing you gag turns Jinx on so much too. She’ll force your head down his cock further just to hear his pretty moans and your struggle to take him.

Now here’s the best part. Them double teaming you. They have this whole good cop bad cop thing going. Ekko will start it, laying you down and eating you out until you’re all nice and pliant for them. He kisses your forehead before stepping back and letting Jinx tie you up. You’re so caught up in the pleasure you don’t even register at first. It’s not until you try to reach out for Ekko that you realize you’ve been restrained. You lightly tug at the rope but give up when you realize it’s useless.

Ekko will spend the entire time praising you. He’ll delicately caress you as he thrusts deep inside of you, gently squeezing every inch of you he can reach.

Meanwhile Jinx is pulling your hair as she rides your face, calling you slut or whore or any degrading thing she can think of at the time. She loves making eye contact with you while you eat her out too. Seeing your focus on her makes her go wild.

You’re so focused on her pleasure that you jump when you feel a vibrator pressed to your clit. Ekko had grabbed one of Jinx’s toys and is directly stimulating you. Your thighs begin trembling from everything happening at once. It’s all just so goooddddd. You cum twice before Jinx is finished riding you. She finally lifts herself up, a trail of her slick and your drool following her pussy. You whine at the loss of her touch. She just coos and reassures she’ll be right back and once she cleans herself up.

Now Ekko can have your attention all to himself. He puts down the vibrator to give you a break but continues to thrust into your aching cunt. He leans down and trails kisses all over your chest, making sure to give extra gentle kisses to any hickeys left around (there’s so many.)

Once he gets close he pulls out and finishes himself off on your stomach. He fingers you to completion and unties you. Jinx comes back with a towel but drops it to draw a heart with the cum on your stomach. Ekko flicks her hand away and grabs the towel to wipe the cum off before it dries and you all cuddle together and pass out, Ekkos light breathing and Jinx’s snoring lulling you to sleep.

[wonryllis]

INTERRUPTING THEM WITH A KISS ✶ 𝒽𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇 & 𝒷𝖺𝖼𝗄

﹙ ⌕ ﹚ 𝓅𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗌 ㅤ𝑜𝑓. enhypen melting into you like it's a habit. contains fem!r, fluff, lots of kissing, pg 15. wc 1657, approximately 0.24k each. check out the d𝒾rectory? stat requested.

──────𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

lee heeseung swears he's never found anyone or as a matter of fact, anything as annoying as you. you're like a roach up his ass, the bane of his existence. yet when he looks at your cherry stained lips as you crash into him outside the club— he can't deny: that the idea of them against his own doesn't seem half as bad. probably the alcohol, heeseung convinces himself.

"if you don't get off and at least a hundred feet away from me right now, i swea—" and your lips crash into his. intentionally, to get under his skin? accidentally, because of the shots? who cares! heeseung can literally feel the breath leave his lungs as you move your lips against his.

but you pull away before he can do anything,"shut up jer—" and it irks him for some god forbid reason, alcohol again? oh fuck the alcohol! imma kiss that attitude outta her. not even a fraction of second passes before heeseung is grabbing your jaw and pulling you back into a kiss.

you want to breathe? forget it. lee heeseung is not having it anymore. a chance to put you in your place, he's not letting it slip through his fingers. he does not want to.

"you shut up." the tendencies of an enemy with his deepest desires unknown to him; kissable lips on an enemy is the most sinful and irresistible thing ever. probably why you annoyed him.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

jay's thighs feel warm against your own as you sit still on his lap, his legs shaking subtly while he rambles about some clothes. the tiny smear of vanilla ice cream near the corner of his lower lip, bothering you more and more with the seconds ticking by.

"and then i had to get the pants exchang—" you don't even realize it yourself when you lean in to capture his lips and lick at the sweetness. his own words dying down as he stares down at your face, completely dumbstruck. come on, that's your girlfriend idiot! kiss back! it's probably the twelfth time you both have kissed since you got together three months ago; it's not like he's keeping track of the kisses but... yeah you make him too nervous so, he is.

"b-baby..?" your hands cup his cheeks and he shuts down again. ears burning hot, and lips parted to let you do what you want. if there's one thing jay can't help, it's letting you have your way. whenever, wherever.

it takes him approximately ten seconds to overcome that nervousness and respond to the kiss. mouth closing in on your chocolate flavored lips in a soft and gentle smooch. after smooch. after smooch. the tendencies of a new boyfriend still reeling in; having the girlfriend of your dreams is not something you can get used to just like that.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

jake has been hanging out and around you for months now. it should have gotten easier by this time, he thinks. but no, every look, every conversation, every subtle touch feels like it burns hotter than the last time. are these the side effects of a crush? of getting closer to them? or of behaving normally after accidentally pecking? jake checks all the boxes.

"yeah so it's supposed to go like this. did you get i—" jake looks up from the project files on the desk, his voice and his life dropping down to his ass at the touch of your lips on his. what the hell is happening? are you actually? is he dreaming? jake cannot decide on what he should think. kiss back obviously! what's more to think?!

the kiss is short and sweet, and it doesn't satisfy him. hand immediately grabbing your throat to keep you from pulling away as he begins responding to the kiss. lips engulfing yours in a deeper and longer one, like it's the nth time you are kissing. like he's so used to it, like he's addicted?

“what— what was that?” jake pants out, somehow managing to pull away. his demeanor shifting drastically from the one that had just possessed him. the tendencies of a crush finally getting a taste; once you get hooked, there's no going back. not after a kiss uncalled for like that.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

he has slept once with you, just once sunghoon reminds himself— grounds himself; for he feels way too obsessed with the thought of you for having only had you once in that way. is it normal? probably not. will he do something about it? probably not.

so he acts like normal, tries to. his hands in his pockets as he walks with you to his car, head hanging low even though his eyes keep stealing glances at you while he tells you about his upcoming tournaments. stopping to open the passenger seat door for you, still speaking of his fears of lack of perfectionism.

"there's still parts i need to work extra o—" but instead of getting right in, you get onto your tiptoes and pull him by his collar into a kiss. if a body can function with a disjointed heart, sunghoon swears it's him.

his heart skipping beats in a row and all of a sudden feeling like it's stopped entirely. yet his hands and lips move without a second thought, without waiting for even a millisecond. grabbing you by the back of your neck and kissing you right back, nibbles and suckles and tongue and everything.

"you'll do well, don't worry too much," the tendencies of a one night stand turned friend; it's probably not the best idea to become buddies with someone you slept with, especially if you want more.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢

the hallways are crowded as always, loud and bustling, drowning out your and sunoo’s laughs and giggles. talking about anything and everything while you wait for another friend.

sunoo's known you for a few years now, not a lot but enough to know when something's up. “he didn't check it properly and then.. hey? are you oka—” and he notices it on your face a fraction of a moment before you pull him into an abrupt kiss— mid conversation.

frozen, nervous and confused. yet all he thinks is actually how uncannily decent it feels, almost encroaching a feeling way too good. “i’m so sorry sun. i told my ex we are dating and he looked our way when he passed by and i panicked—” sunoo shushes you all too quickly, regretting not having kissed back properly.

“i get it, we can pretend. i don't mind it,” he doesn't know what comes over him as he proposes the idea, but he definitely expects to get into situations like these. why? he has no clue. he just wants it.

“everything you need to do to convince him, i’m all in,” his gaze trails over your lips, leaning closer unintentionally. another kiss right in the middle of the hallway. the tendencies of a friend offering to help in a non friendly way; fake dating a friend you feel like you could possibly develop feelings for is like digging your own grave.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

four months, seventeen days, twelve hours and probably thirty-six minutes. jungwon’s counting with all he has. this relationship, or whatever is going on between you two; beyond friends and bordering lovers, is bugging him down to his core. it's eating away at him.

“you just called me your friend,” leaning against the elevator wall, hands in his pockets, jungwon tries to behave— be as nonchalant as he can. jealousy? what's that? look me in the eyes and tell me i'm just a friend look.. no he isn't looking at you like that. snap out of it yang jungwon!

“you really think i’m just a friend? after all that we have don—” two steps closer, bodies pressed, eyes locked and your kiss that shuts him up. oh to hell with being normal with you. your hands slide around the back of his neck and his words die down against your lips like kissing you is his second nature.

“boyfriend? you want that label?” the mumbles against his lips, the sound of your soft breaths and the taste of your lipbalm, it's like jungwon is high.

“again.” catching your lower lip between his in a languid nibble. he can't help but keep wanting to kiss you, the ding of the elevator drowned out behind all his thoughts of you. the tendancies of a situationship with obvious feelings; being friendzoned by your girlfriend-to-be gets you jealous, he'll admit it now.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

friends. friends. friends. riki chants internally, again and again. and again. poopy diaper, runny nose, screeching tantrums— he thinks everything unpleasant about you, everything he possibly can. childhood friends ripping each other's hair out, neighbours annoying each other across the bedroom windows, classmates snitching out on each other's crushes. everything that's just friends.

nothing more. never— impossible. riki soothes himself, his mind and heart still jumbling all around after your question earlier, ‘what if we kissed?’ disgusting! right? he's not sure if he's answering or questioning his sanity.

and though the conversation is stirred clear of the topic, both of you nestled on your bedroom floor talking about club applications; his eyes staring right at you, seeming as unfazed as ever, his psychological state is nowhere near willing to calm down.

“what do you think about the drama clu—” your lips don't last even a second on his, before he is pushing you away, like he's allergic to kisses.

“w-what are you doing!” riki exclaims, fingers rubbing over his mouth,”i told you earlier,” and then slowly reaching forward to brush them against yours as he leans back in, involuntarily he insists. “i know but this is, so weird.. i’m not supposed to like it,” soft mumbles and lips grazing. the tendencies of a lifelong friend crossing an improbable line. locking lips with your childhood friend just for a ‘what if’ is the worst plan ever, or maybe not so much.

taglist 。open! @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @enhabooks @criminalyun @oddracha @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jayjw16enxp

[greengoblinswifey]

hii ! could you write a story about like nicholas chavez as a doctor x fem patient smut, I've been trying to find a good story like this but I literally can't 😭😭

much love !!

summary— you’re referred to Dr. Chavez at the hospital due to a misdiagnosis. one of your symptoms include intense, unrelenting arousal and as your doctor, it’s his job to help make you better in any way he can.

warnings— female masturbation, voyeurism, abuse of power, fingering, body worship, oral, degrading kink, praise kink, public sex kinda(hospital), unprotected sex, sir kink, ass slapping, choking(with tie), erotic asphyxiation, use of doctor during sex, slight manipulation if you squint, aftercare.

a/n— i’d love if you guys send requests, reblog and comment☺️

After a recent misdiagnosis left you frustrated and your symptoms worsening, you were referred to Dr. Chavez. Though he seemed slightly irritated about having to “fix someone else's mess,” he introduced himself with a polite but distant professionalism. He stood before you, impeccably dressed in a white coat over a crisp suit and tie, every detail in place. He was calm, collected, and intensely focused as he started going over your symptoms.

When you finally mentioned the most embarrassing one, the constant, nearly unbearable arousal, you noticed his reaction, a slight widening of his eyes, and a pause in his typing. “And, uh, how often would you say this happens?” he asked, his voice steady but his gaze flickering with something unreadable.

“Constantly doctor,” you admitted, cheeks flushing. “I’m always horny, sometimes it’s painful. Like, I just can’t think straight, or focus on anything else.”

After ordering several tests, he told you they’d need to monitor you at the hospital. This only intensified your frustration, the more time you spent in his presence, the worse your symptoms felt, in particular your constant arousal. You tried to distract yourself by prying into his life, probing the doctor with questions. You noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, which made your mind spin even more.

Hours turned to days, and your symptoms didn’t let up. You felt more tired, the frustration mounting as medical staff came in and out of your room. Privacy was nearly impossible, leaving you with no room to release the growing arousal that only got worse.

One night, after another round of exhausting tests, the hallway was finally quiet. You were alone. You couldn’t help yourself, the relief you craved was all you could think about. Without any other means as your vibrator had long since been forgotten at home, you let your fingers slide down, imagining Dr. Chavez’s calm voice, his firm hands. You closed your eyes, stifling a moan, picturing him standing over you, his gaze intense.

You flipped the sheets off you and hiked up the hospital gown they draped you in. Still not satisfied, you ripped your underwear off and spread your legs, your fingers frantically rubbing your clit then slipping into your sloppy hole. Soft moans filled the room as your head was swarming with thoughts of Dr. Chavez being the one to make you feel good.

Just then, the door clicked open, and there he was, clipboard in hand, looking caught off guard. He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the way you quickly pulled your hand back. He cleared his throat. “I came to check on you,” he said, his tone layered with something more than just professional concern.

You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “Doctor, I—it's been so hard, I couldn’t help myself.”

For a moment, he lingered there, eyes locked on yours, before he shook himself slightly. “It’s part of my job to ensure you’re comfortable and to help you,” he replied, voice slightly rougher, eyes not quite meeting yours as he jotted something down on the clipboard.

You looked at him, unable to hold back the desperation any longer and you noticed the dent in his pants. “Well help me, doctor,” you whispered, voice thick with need. “Can you do something to make it go away? Please give me something, anything to make it stop.”

He stopped in his tracks, his already intense gaze darkening as he absorbed your words. “Beg,” he commanded, his voice dropping to a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Please, doctor,” you said, voice trembling, willing yourself to keep his attention. “Please help me, I need you to fix me, make me feel better.”

A dark chuckle slipped from him as he locked the door behind him, his fingers throwing off his tie and shrugging off his coat. He then stood right before you, his eyes sweeping over your form.

Without another word, he reached out, his fingertips barely grazing over your thigh as he leaned in close. “Needy, aren’t you?” he murmured with a smirk. His fingers teased, trailing down until they brushed against your pussy, his touch almost unbearably light.

“Please, Dr. Chavez,” you pleaded again, breath catching as his fingers lingered at the edges of your need. “Please, sir.”

His smile only widened as he took in your reaction, and without another moment’s hesitation, he knelt down before you. His hands were firm under your thighs and then his mouth was on your leaking pussy, a loud moan leaving you as he began. His focus was unrelenting, and you couldn’t contain your whimpers, each one drawing him in closer.

Every sound you made seemed to fuel him, his hands gripping you tighter, his touch sending you higher.

“Yes that’s it sir, don’t stop,” you whimpered, your hands going to his hair as you held him close and moved your pussy all over his mouth.

“Mm- you taste so fucking good, so fucking desperate for me aren’t you,” he hummed, in between licks.

He continued, now slipping a finger inside you and sucking on your clit, until, you arched your back off the bed and felt yourself let go, a sensation so intense you squirted and felt your pussy and your whole body quivering from it all.

His eyes met yours, a smirk on his lips. “You were so desperate, weren't you?” he murmured, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “Glad I could help.”

You leaned in and placed a sloppy kiss on his lips, savoring your own delectable taste.

“Hm,” Dr. Chavez paused, his lips still mere inches away from you, “based on my observations, I’ve come to the conclusion that you still need my help. You still need me to make you better, so I have to put my dick inside you sweetheart, I just have to.”

You nodded almost mindlessly, leaning into his touch, his mere presence was intoxicating. Though you got the relief you wanted, having him so close to you brought you back to square one. Your pussy was still leaking.

Breathlessly, he unbuckled his pants, the sight before you making you drool like a dog in heat. He slipped himself out, revealing a long, thick and rock hard cock you would do anything to feel inside you.

“God, look at you,” he said, licking his lips and pumping his cock, “tell me how bad you want me, how bad you want this dick.”

“Please sir, I want you so bad, I need you to fuck me. please help me,” you panted, desperation evident in your voice.

“That’s a good girl, my patients are always so obedient.” He grabbed your hair, bringing you down to his cock’s level and thrusted into your mouth.

“Worship this cock,” he demanded, his voice sounding strained as he tried to contain his moans.

“Fuck, I love your cock doctor, it tastes so good, I- mm, need it so fucking bad,” you said, in between having his dick brush your tonsil. You slurped and moaned as you continuously gagged on the feeling of him being so deep in your throat. Reaching down, you played with your clit, desperate for some sort of relief.

“Hey, hey, no,” Dr. Chavez bellowed, “stop touching yourself. I’m your doctor and I know what’s best, I’ll help you with my dick inside you, those tiny little fingers won’t satisfy you. They won’t make you better.”

You whimpered in response but listened. He was your doctor after all, he knew best. He would never tell you anything that wasn’t accurate.

His moans grew breathy and louder but as soon as you felt his balls tighten, he pulled you off his cock by the hair and in a swift motion, you fell flat on the bed.

“S’gonna be okay sweetheart, my cock inside you is gonna make it all better.”

Just as swiftly, his cock pierced your pussy, slipping inside you and stretching you slowly. The stretch was burning as he groaned and pushed deeper but the feeling was soon replaced by immense pleasure.

“Oh god, you’re so fucking wet, sloppy fucking pussy you’ve got huh,” he moaned, chuckling.

Your face was contorted in pleasure, looking up at your doctor as he pounded into you, the feeling better than anything else you’d ever experienced in your life. Your moans willed him on and his thrusts became more frantic as he felt your pussy grip and tighten around him.

“That’s it baby, this desperate little pussy can’t get enough of her doctor’s cock, gripping me so tight like she doesn’t wanna let me go.” A sob left your lips due to the intensity of it all and soon, you wrapped your legs around his waist, gripping on to him for dear life as you squirted on his cock.

“Good girl, that’s my needy fucking whore, let it all out.”

Small whimpers filled the hospital room as you slowly came down from your high, but you were still needy, your body grinding against him sending even more jolts of pleasure through you.

“M-more, please sir, just one more,” you begged tears in your eyes.

“Jesus Christ baby, you’re a fucking desperate whore aren’t you, God, you just can’t get enough of my cock.”

Your lips quivered and you knew you were being desperate but you didn’t care, all you cared about was your release just one more time. Just once and you’d be okay for the next few days. You needed it quick, the commotion was surely to make a nurse come wandering soon.

“I just— oh,” your sentence was cut short as he easily flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your ass up to him and slipped inside your wet pussy once more. You spread your legs and arched your back, needing him as deep inside you as he could go.

“That’s it baby, spread this fucking pussy.” He slapped your ass harshly and soon you felt something slip around your neck. It was his tie. He slipped the tie around your neck, not enough to restrict your airflow too much, but just enough to have your head spinning and only the thought of his cock in it.

“Take it, take this fucking dick. You were so desperate for it, now you have it.” A small cry left your lips as you felt him repeatedly hit your g spot.

“Oh you fucking love it, you love your doctor’s cock deep inside your wet fucking pussy don’t you, whore,” he inquired, pulling you back to his chest by the tie around your neck.

“Y- yes, I love it sir,” you managed to croak out.

“Good girl, because as long as you’re here and under my care, you’re gonna get this dick every fucking night. Every fucking time you’re needy and desperate my cock is gonna be here to fill this pussy.”

His words sent you over the edge and your body convulsed under his touch as you squirted. He continued fucking you through your high but you couldn’t take anymore. You squirmed away from him, your pussy somehow still gushing and he quickly pulled out, releasing his warm cum all over your back.

“Fucking hell, your pussy is just gushing,” he moaned, as he pumped his cock, milking himself of everything onto your back.

Your body was so weak you could barely form words as you tried to thank him for making you feel better.

“Shh, it’s okay baby, it’s my job to help you.” He shushed you then went to the bathroom, bringing back a cloth to clean you up and get you back into your underwear and fix your gown. He didn’t need anyone coming to check and seeing you in that state.

He kissed your forehead, caressing your body as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

“It’s okay baby, go to sleep, your doctor’s gonna always be here to make you feel better.”

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some Guy on Fear Gas (can apparently turn invisible)

Masterpost

“Danny was supposed to be in class today.”

There was a round of sighs in the coms. See Danny didn’t react in the same manner as the rest of the population when exposed to fear toxin (or in general, but they were mostly used to that). See Danny didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he didn’t get violent. He got unnervingly paranoid.

He got so unnervingly paranoid about being watched, specifically by the government if the muttered and whispered words were to be believed. His eyes tracked nothing while he slowly moved around invisible people. It wasn't like dealing with someone in an active hallucination experiencing a psychotic break. It was like dealing with someone in a paranoid delusion. He wouldn't let any of the bats near him and often took off, disappearing into the chaos.

Four months into seeing this kid everywhere and their suspicions were confirmed when he literally disappeared after the second time being poisoned.

Danny was a meta and he was afraid.

That’s not the reason for the exasperation felt by this family though. It was what always happened after. The first time he ignored every vigilantly when they tried to bring it up. After the second time he attempted to avoid everyone, extended family included.

(He had asked Kate if she was also Batman’s kid. “More like their aunt.” “Oh okay so it really is a family business. Like that show Unnatural. You don't happen to have also lost your parents at a relatively young age and now go on to fight a dark presence in their honor, do you?.” Kate had stared passively at him, the others had warned her. “….. okay… are you more of a Zuko honor type?”)

However, it was like the universe conspired against Danny. Even Bruce agreed that there had to be some god or being doing this (nothing is ever a coincidence). They kinda felt bad for him. He was very obviously trying to avoid them and he was either really bad at being evasive or a deity was laugh at him. Once he had thrown himself behind a lamp pole smaller than himself and closed his eyes to avoid Stephanie.

(It was very awkward. He could turn invisible and knew they knew so why…..? She had politely continued past so not to embarrass the poor guy further. Cause this was embarrassing and they both knew it.)

Finally it was Duke who pulled them all out of limbo. He had come across Danny on the roof of another bank. A lesser known capital union closer to crime ally this time.

Danny hadn’t been avoiding Duke in the same manner as everyone else. He still stopped to give Duke food but he never spoke and he ran after. Duke thought it would be weird to chase him but it was also weird to turn around, have an orange shoved into his hands then watch his friend run away.

However, this time Danny didn’t run as Duke approached so Duke sat next to him. Pulling out a granola bar, he handed it to Danny, “that’s why you feed me all the time right? Cause you know how many calories we need as metas.”

Danny had laughed, “no actually, that was a bit that morphed into a habit. I just thought it was funny.”

“….what.”

“Don’t get me wrong, now that we’re friends I am more than happy to feed you but yeah. The first candy bar was a thank you and then the second time I thought ‘I have fruit.’”

“….. wow… okay.” There went his plan of empathizing. They sat in silence as Duke tried to reorganize his thoughts.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you all.” Duke turned his head to face Danny, who kept his eyes forward, “you know no one cares that you’re a meta.” “Obviously. It wasn’t the invisibility that I was upset about," Danny said.

“The muttering. The paranoia.” Danny grimaced and didn’t say anything.

“You don’t have to tell us till you’re ready, man. Just let us know if you need help. Please, are you safe?”

Danny nodded and Duke nodded back and they had both continued to sit. When they parted ways Danny handed Duke a small bag of chips.

Danny had apologized everyone one at a time even though they had heard it from Duke. Danny never explained nor did he want to talk about his it. His power of invisibility was also a subject off limits. All of them were worried but they didn’t want to force him to talk about it. They had to trust that he would one day feel comfortable doing so with any or all of them. (Still, it was hard seeing their friend so paranoid that he flinched back from them. )

Post Six

[goldsainz]

❝ NSFW ALPHABET ❞

MASTERLIST!

pairing . . . jacaerys velaryon x reader

◦∘｡ﾟ. warnings . . . MINORS DNI! lewd language, smut (breeding kink, creampie (?), lactation kink, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), worshipping).

◦∘｡ﾟ. summary . . . jacaerys' behaviour in the bedroom.

◦∘｡ﾟ. note . . . i am so so so happy to be writing for hotd again, i’m enjoying season 2 so much and i can’t wait for it to be sunday tbh. i haven’t written smut in YEARS (literally) so if this is bad it’s because i am quite rusty😔 requests are open (for aemond & jacaerys)!

[ word count: 2,2k ]

A — AFTERCARE . . . what they're like after sex!

Jacaerys was raised to be a proper prince, and with that, he learned how to respect women. He’s so gentle, drawing a bath himself and making sure you feel at comfort. Anything you need he will make sure you have. When you’re both back in bed, he cuddles you and falls asleep whispering sweet nothings.

B — BODY PART . . . their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's!

THEIRS . . . He loves his hands, mostly because you love them. Loves to use them to hold you incredibly close, to cup your cheeks when he leans in for a kiss, or just loves them when you take his hand and proudly walk alongside him, hand in hand.

YOURS . . . He loves your tummy. Loves peppering kisses on it, resting his head and falling asleep soundly while you run your hands through his hair. If you ever get pregnant it will be a hassle to get him off you and your tummy.

C — CUM . . . anything to do with cum, basically!

Even if he didn’t have a duty to get you pregnant, he would still be cumming inside you. It’s quite the primal urge he has to make sure everyone knows you’re his. It doesn't matter what you're doing, he will not cum anywhere else but inside you. If he sees his cum dripping out of you, he will push it back into you either with his fingers or simply with his cock.

D — DIRTY SECRET . . . pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs!

Jacaerys is quite comfortable in being the giver of the relationship, but sometimes he fantasies about you taking over in the bedroom. To be the one crying from overstimulation, to have you take care of him. 

E — EXPERIENCE . . . how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?

He was one of the few men to save themselves for marriage, though not because of purity but more so because he never felt the urge to go to a brothel and have his first sexual experience be with a whore. Despite this, he does know what he’s doing. He had a talk with Daemon one time many moons ago, and because of it he’s gained some knowledge. But he only learns the true meaning of pleasure with you. 

F — FAVOURITE POSITION . . . this goes without saying!

Cowgirl. As previously stated, he loves the idea of you dominating him and while that isn't quite it, you on top makes him lose his mind. He also knows how much you enjoy the position, with him hitting you just right, as you once put it. With you controlling the pace and how much you take in, Jacaerys can perfectly take in the beautiful sight of your blissed-out face. 

G — GOOFY . . . are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

When he’s in the bedroom he’s quite focused on making sure you’re okay and feel good, so there is no time to be humorous. Still, things happen and a giggle or two slip out when he’s going at it too hard and bumps your head against the bed frame, or when you're both desperate and trip over your clothes. Jacaerys doesn't necessarily try to make your intimate moments funny, but he doesn't stop it if it happens. 

H — HAIR . . . how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

Before you he didn’t really care about grooming, but the days prior to your wedding night he decided to look his best. You have never asked him to groom himself, but he feels as though he has to. He knows how much you take care of yourself, why wouldn’t he do the same? As for the carpet matching the drapes they do. It’s a deep brown and slightly curly, just like the hair on his head.

I — INTIMACY . . . how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect.

Jacaerys is very romantic. He’s tender and sweet from beginning to the end, mostly because he’s madly in love with you, but also because he wants to take his time with you. He’s a big fan of eye contact, handholding, and kissing. Any opportunity he has where he can feel more connected to you, he will take it. Confessions of love and adoration are not rare, an “I love you” slipping from his lips when he’s thrusting inside you, or the looks he gives you that make you feel what he’s feeling. You don’t have just sex, you make love.

J — JACK OFF . . . masturbation headcanon!

He doesn’t often masturbate, only in situations when he’s away from you and misses you dearly. Truly, he gets needy. Usually, he waits until he’s back home with you and releases all that pent up tension onto you. But sometimes, when he longs for you and can’t have you, he resorts to his hand. It doesn't measure up to what your touch feels like, at all, but it does the job to at least quell some of the fire burning up inside him.

K — KINK . . .one or more of their kinks!

As previously mentioned this man wants you pregnant so bad. His breeding kink is very obvious to you, from the way he whispers in your ear how much he wants to see you pregnant, to see his seed take and make you swell with his baby, you want it as much as him, and that just makes him more feral. The Velaryon Prince loves feeling needed, which is why edging is one of his favourite ways to make you crave him as much as he craves you. Your desperate pleas to come fall to deaf ears, as he enjoys your whining and writhing just as much as the sight of you orgasming.

L — LOCATION . . . favourite places to do the deed!

Always somewhere private. Jacaerys is not much of an exhibitionist, although he likes people knowing you’re his, he also doesn’t want anyone else to be able to see you in a compromising position. That sight is sacred, reserved only to him only. As for a specific place, he thoroughly enjoys having sex in your bed. Maybe it's because of how intimate it is or that he knows there’s no way you'll be uncomfortable, but that is his preferred place.

M — MOTIVATION . . . what turns them on, gets them going!

Anything that you do is enough. Sometimes he fears how much power you have over him, how he’s so enamoured and almost obsessed with you. He gets turned on pretty easily when he’s around you, it doesn't take more than you speaking at him in your sweet, honeyed voice for him to be hard. 

N — NO . . . something they wouldn't do, turn offs!

Any type of experience where he has to share you with someone. No to threesome, no to exhibitionsim, and no to cuckolding. He also does not like seeing you get hurt, if he even suspects you’re not liking something he’ll stop until you’re comfortable. 

O — ORAL . . . preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

Jacaerys doesn’t dislike the feeling of your mouth on his cock, but he much prefers the feeling of his mouth on your pussy. He eats you out like it’s his last meal, holding your hips down and feasting on the taste of you. He loves overstimulating you until you’re trying to push his head away, the pleasure too much. Loves how you push him back towards your pussy, grabbing a handful of his hair to make him continue his ministrations when he separates himself from you to breathe some air. Sometimes you fear he will suffocate between your thighs, when he doesn't come back up for air in a while, and what a sweet death that’d be to him. 

P — PACE . . . are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

His pace is usually slow and sensual. He worships you, taking his time to appreciate all your sounds and the faces you make, forever burned in his memory. He loves showing you just how much he loves you, making you feel his adoration for you. Still, Jacaerys has moments where he can be rough, lost in the pleasure he frantically fucks into you. He rarely loses control, but when he does you’re both left a beautiful, sweaty mess.

Q — QUICKIE . . . their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

Not the biggest fan of them. He likes to take his time, savouring those intimate moments so quickies are not something he would choose to partake in. If he’s really needy, he will consider the idea, but usually what starts as a quickie, ends in a long sexual endeavour. 

R — RISK . . . are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

He’s pretty open to any ideas you might have, as long as they don’t involve sharing or hurting you in any way. He doesn't mind taking risks, but he’s pretty comfortable with the things you already do and will not be the one to propose different ways to spice things up, he leaves that to you. 

S — STAMINA . . . how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

He can last a few, it all depends on what you're doing. Three rounds is the sweet spot for him. He eats you out, he fucks you and then fucks you once more to make sure his cum really takes. If you just want to make love, have one simple round where you’re both connected, then he’ll give it to you. But this man is insatiable, so it rarely ends in one round for him. 

T — TOYS . . . do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

Neither of you really need them, you both consider the other enough. If you ever wanted to introduce toys in the bedroom, then Jacaerys is open to the idea. Maybe one day you’ll experiment, but for now the Prince has plenty of skill that will make you forget about any toys.

U — UNFAIR . . . how much they like to tease!

He loves teasing you. He makes you yearn for his touch, adoring the pout you give him and how glassy your eyes get when teasing you. Jacaerys slicks himself along your entrance, bumping against your clit which in turn makes you squirm and whine, and he takes his time until you’re almost sobbing for him to insert himself in you. He’s the worst in public, grabbing you by your waist and telling you how badly he wishes to be in bed with you, only to leave you to go speak to some lord. He watches your agape mouth as you look at him, and all he does is smirk because he knows how wet you’ll be when he finally has you alone.

V — VOLUME . . . how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

Jacaerys is incredibly vocal. He groans when he finally sheathes himself inside you, moaning when you’re on top of him bouncing up and down without mercy. He’s not shy in telling you how good you're making him feel. He wishes he could speak more to you, but he becomes an incoherent mess pretty quickly and all you can understand are the few mumbles of “Need you” or “So good”, lewdly whining when you clench around him. A drawn out “Fuck” leaves his lips when he comes, squeezing your hips and almost shaking in relief when he feels his spend painting your gummy walls. 

W — WILD CARD . . . a random headcanon for the character!

Wants to fuck you while pregnant and see the milk from your tits dripping, to taste the sweet nectar your body produces. He dreams of how round your belly will be, and how ethereal you’ll look with the glow of motherhood. 

X — X-RAY . . . let's see what's going on under those clothes!

He’s around 15 cm or 6 inches. He’s quite girthy, with a heavy ball sack. He has some prominent veins which you can feel when he’s thrusting in you, the ridges making you sigh in pleasure. 

Y — YEARNING . . . how high is their sex drive?

Jacaerys has a high sex drive, better make the most of it while he’s young. He can control himself, he has great restraint because he knows the wait will just make it all the more sweeter. You can tell quite well when he’s yearning for you, sometimes all it takes is a good look at him and other times he’ll simply groan into your ear how badly he needs you. You guys have sex pretty much every day, with a few exceptions when you're sore or simply not in the mood. 

Z — ZZZ . . . how quickly they fall asleep after sex!

When you fall asleep, he falls asleep. He has great stamina but sometimes when he tires the both of you out, he can’t help but fall asleep almost instantly after he spends his load inside you. Adores cuddling you, makes sleeping for him easier and rids him of any bad dreams. He holds you close, drifting off to the sound of your slow breathing and the heat of your body against his. 

[sacrificiallane]

too sweet ۶ৎ  percy jackson smut

cw: heavy make out turned dry humping. (bodily fluids), drenched underwear, horny teens! percy being the sweetest boyfriend ever. allusion to giving head (it doesn’t really happen, though)

not proofread, oops

"i love you," kiss, "love you," kiss, "gods ―"

Percy Jackson speaks pretty nonsense when your plush lips trail further and further down his body. he swears this is his Elysium ― pushed into his sea themed sheets and getting utterly loved by you.

"so, so good to me, pretty girl." and you live by his constant praise.

only in his blue boxers he's literal putty under your teasing hands, as your mouth trails a path over each of his freckles, seemingly forming constellations with just your sweet mouth on him.

it's muscle memory when his hips lift off the bed, trying to get even more friction from how easily your making out had turned into... this.

your lips easily find the rough patch of his happy trail, and Percy stutters a little in his breathing. he is closing his eyes in anticipation, his fingers already finding space in your hair.... and then ―

― and then your mouth quickly moves back up, almost as if you're rushing to get back into familiar territory. it's the only indication he needs, to know that you're not just merely trying to tease him.

his sea green eyes slowly flutter open again, and Percy tries to find his thoughts somewhere that isn't tugged under his waistband.

his voice is all hazy when his eyes connect with yours again.

"you scared to go lower?"

and his question was so genuine ― you wanted to cry. he wasn't being pushy, and nothing in his tone suggested that he was disappointed or upset. no, your boyfriend was genuinely checking in with you, to see if you were okay with all this.

he then found your gaze turn a bit sheepish, almost... shy, as you slowly nodded your pretty head at him. "uhm, yea," he heard you whisper, and a flush overtook your features, "it's scary down there. i don't know what to do with... all that."

oh. oh….

Percy can't even stop himself from snorting a bit at your answer. leave it to his partner, to describe his most sensitive part as 'scary'. he finds it all too sweet, too!

of course, there was barely anything you could do 'wrong' with it, in his mind, anyway. but Percy is the last person to push you into something you aren't completely comfortable with.

the guy would happily just let you kiss him silly, if that's all you're comfy with!

"sweetheart," his gaze softens at your admission, and his thumb softly brushes over your cheek, just to see you look less worried about his reaction. "that's totally fine," he hums, and watches you closely, "we can try some other time. or we can never try again. whatever you'd like. i'm happy when you’re happy, honestly."

but it's the way you tell him that you totally don't want to stop this completely! you have urges too, after all. so Percy finds himself greedily licking into your mouth, until further thoughts just melt away. he's quick to flip the both of you over, hovering above you, all while making pretty little sounds of pleasure that mingle with your own.

his body molds perfectly against your own, and a roll of his hips is enough to leave you dumb. your lips are all shiny and swollen when he's done with devouring your face, and a lopsided smile splits over his lips that make your tummy flutter. he‘s on you before you can even take a moment to breathe, already thrusting ― gentle, slow ― against your clothed most sensitive part.

you‘re so overwhelmed by his sheer gentleness, that your own hips desperately buckle against his! and Percy can only watch in awe as your legs open wider for him, as to beckon him even closer.

he doesn’t need you to suck his dick! no, Percy prefers you just like this… sprawled open and eager for him to take care of you.

your hand seeking out his own, is enough to have his own stomach flutter. he is quick to interlock his fingers with yours, pressing them into the mattress right beside your head and keeping them there...

and Percy is almost embarrassed at how much he is really leaking through his boxers. it creates a wet squelching patch right where his tip keeps rubbing into your clit, and the mere sight of such has him less embarrassed and even more eager to make you both feel good.

his eyes quickly find yours again, knowing that you need just a bit more coaxing to really find your peak like this. "it's okay pretty girl," the son of poseidon coos gently, closely watching your facial expression. he knows you're close.

you swallow thickly, not able to look anywhere else but him. his muscles move with his trusting, making you all dizzy with how much you love him! how good he makes you feel, too. "Perce―" your breath hitches when your walls flutter around nothing. you're so so close, yet not quite there yet...

"i know, i know." your little whine makes his hand tighten around your own, has his hips grind harder against your clothes pussy, because he is right there with you!

when his hand comes down to press and rub over the fabric of where your sweet clit is hidden underneath, is when you find yourself finally falling apart...

he is so boyfriend, im crying (inspo from a tiktok i watched)

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 4)

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

7k words of a fever dream, happy Sunday, sinners ✨💦 I really hope you like it 🥺💖

You were back, unexpectedly but welcomed nonetheless. But now Alastor finds himself in a new kind of hell. There was, unfortunately for him, no killing what he felt when he looked at you.

{Warnings/Promises: Smut, Ace spectrum Alastor x FemReader, Alastor has feelings, creampie is the best nighttime snack, Angel is always the good guy, cervix punishment, mating press, Alastor demon form, Antlers go brrrr, drinking to forget, drowning (in cum)((and emotions)), discussions of murder, Alastor gets horny for discussions of murder, kinda breed kink if you squint, I saw a fan image of a hazbin hotel pool and it’s been stuck in my head for days.}

MINORS DNI (ah! Eh! I — stop. I see you. You know I see you, right? Get outta here! 🚨)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

You were quick to stifle your smile, seeing Alastor standing in front of you with his hand outstretched. Why were you smiling? You were dead. Brutally so. And, You were in hell. But the corners of your mouth kept tugging upward at the sight of the stupid fucking deer demon before you. His own wild smile, eyes half lidded as he looked at you like he knew you.

You took his hand, needing the help standing. He fingers slipped from your palm and came to rub the velvet skin of your—- ears? You smacked his hand away, taking a step back.

The look he gave you, confusion? You weren’t sure, his head cocked to the side, hand lingering a beat longer in the air. He took a step toward you and you took one back.

Alastor laughed, “Quite the welcome, dear.”

You narrowed your eyes, did he know? Did he know you dreamt of him so many nights? That you struggled daily to not see his face behind your eyelids, not hear his lilting voice in your ear?

“Long time no see, Alastor.” You didn’t mean to sound quite so bored when you said it, you weren’t really sure at all what was going on in your head. You didn’t expect to see him so soon, literally immediately upon your death. You didn’t have time to recalibrate the mixed up feelings you had created for yourself over this stranger.  

You pined for months to see him again, trying so hard to push the memory of him as deep as you could. So deep, in fact, you found yourself tortured at night with fantasies of his company. Even during the day, your life was altered around him. You couldn’t listen to the radio, the odd static and reverb just forcing him back into your consciousness. You took long forest walks, thinking about hunters and deer. You wore that fucking robe for an embarrassingly long time, remembering being in another world entirely.

Alastor’s face fell, throat closing slightly as he thought he realized what was happening. You didn’t remember the time you’d spent with him. He had been enjoying lazy nights in his room and pleasurable times in the woods with a ghost. He took a step closer, maybe if he— maybe your body would remember? If you just smelled his bed, perhaps you’d stop acting so cold. If he could awaken the impressions he was sure he left on your soul, he could pick up where he left off. A comfortable companion. Kind eyes that only saw him. His name, sweet and low tumbling from your lips.

You hit the wall with your back, making distance from him. He hadn’t hurt you, but you couldn’t be sure what would happen now. Fantasies are no indication of a person’s real self. Your dream romps were just that— dreams. Fiction your mind produced to fill the gap in your life he somehow created in your short time together. Imagination fleshing out this unknown demon you couldn’t stop thinking about. 

His hand fell. There was a second his smile dropped, brows knitted. It came and it went, “Well! I best go get Charlie. She is the official welcome committee of the Hazbin Hotel, after all. Follow me.” The door swung open, his long arm gesturing.

Charlie pulled you into a hug, bouncing between “Welcome back!” And “I am so, so sorry you died!” She held your hands in hers, “The hotel has gone through a lot since you left! I have so much to show you. While Alastor has your room b…” her voice carried on, but your mind stayed put. She did jazz hands at every sconce and door frame on the way to the lobby.

You had expected it, your death. You figured there was a 50/50 chance you didn’t make it out of that forest. But that didn’t make this moment any less surreal. You looked down at your body, yours but new. Your hands came to your head, fingers climbing up your skull until you found them. Two soft, tulip petal shaped ears. Were you going to be sick? The room began to spin. Charlie’s voice underwater. Was some detective going to knock on your parent’s door? Carrying a folder with your photo and bad news? Your eyes clenched at the image, your heart ballooning in your chest.

“Maybe she needs to take a rest,” his voice cut through the waters of your confusion, a spear straight to your psyche. His hand slipped up your arm, resting on your back. You shook your head, eyes blinking wildly. 

“It’s fine. Please, Charlie, continue your tour.” You took an exaggerated step to your left, out from under his touch. You thought you heard him sigh. Why was he being so kind? The last time you spoke you were staring daggers at him while he carried on about doing exactly what he had promised.

Charlie excitedly presented the lobby to you, the bar, the library. Alastor walked a few feet behind you both, quiet, his shadow dancing down the hallway in front of you. It’s mouth flipping from grin to grimace and back as it watched you nod along to every detail Charlie felt you should know.

The newest addition to the hotel since you left, a large indoor pool on the second to top floor. You lingered there, watching the water reflect pink and red light from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pentagram City.

“Almost done! To the left is Dad’s studio. He comes and goes. Ya know, parent stuff.”

You tried to mask your concern for whatever damaged parent-child relationship she was referencing.

“And to the right is Alastor’s radio station.”

You glanced to the demon, standing near the wall, inspecting his nails. “I didn’t know he had a radio station. I just assumed-,” You shrugged, “He just sounded like that.”

Alastor felt his bottom lid of his left eye twitch involuntarily. Why were you speaking like he wasn’t there?

He bit his tongue, literally. He needed time to think, to plan how to handle this situation. Your death was early and therefore unexpected for him, too. Not nearly as surprising, though, as your loss of memory of him.

He knew though, maybe this was for the best. If you were here, if he could see you around the hotel, perhaps that desire to have you near would die down. His shadow shifted behind him before sinking into the floor. Yes, exactly. This was a good thing. His eyes glanced to you, to your little doe features, two ears and a tiny fluff of a tail. His jaw tightened, had you done it on purpose? What did it mean?

”Would you like to see it?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, because he hadn’t realized he was going to say it until it was done.

Yes. “No thank you.” You wanted to run face first into the wall. It felt like your ribs were twisting off your spine. One side lurched up—- touch him. He wants you, he felt so good. Get him alone. The other side pulling down—- fuck him. He owns you, he’s a demon. Stay away from him.

His ears turned back and down, folding into his skull. You tried to keep your face neutral as you stared back at him, breathing teetering on panting. Every time you looked at him you were in danger of spilling your guts. 

“Well!” Charlie slid into the tense air between you two, nervous chuckles, “That makes sense! Because Al’s station is super off limits. So. Uhh where was I going with this.” She looked around, “Is the room ready, Al?”

He nodded, leading you both to the elevator and a few floors down. 

“This floor is for our more precious residents. Not that every soul isn’t precious! But ya knooow,” she opened your door, “You’ve got Angel, Husk, Niffty, sometimes Cherri Bomb, and Alastor as neighbors!”

Yippee. You get to lie awake knowing the object of your fucked desire is just past an easily smashed wall.

There was a moment where you all three looked at each other. Charlie becoming more and more fidgety as the seconds ticked on.

“Sooo, We should let her rest, like you said, right Alastor?” Charlie began a dramatic walk to the bedroom door, taking big steps with high knees.

You needed to do this and let it be. “Actually, may I have a moment, Alastor?”

Always, Yes. “I suppose I have the time, my dear.” He twirled his microphone stand before settling it behind his back. Charlie wanted to ask you if you were sure, but the tension was rising again. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed as she went.

Alone. Again. There was a feeling in the air, like you would either fuck or fight. Was it an animal thing? Or was it always there?

“I never got to thank you.”

His stomach turned, he couldn’t bear this again. Please, stop thanking him. Smile straining, struggling to keep it together, he nodded, “Whatever for?”

You had a strange feeling, a familiarity to the conversation. Ah, that was right. Would this end the same way as your dream? With you on your back? “You were — true to your word.” You fiddled with the comforter of the bed, avoiding looking at him. “You were gentle and you got me home safe and sound. I didn’t thank you. I was just so-,”

“Full of misplaced rage?” His head tilted to the left, eyebrows high.

“Just rage, would have been fine. It was an unfair situation that you helped get me out of.”

Alastor watched your face, only sadness to be found. Not a sight he took any pleasure in. “Well you should truly thank Angel Dust. He is the one who brought me to you, desperate to help you. Even offered me his soul! Not that it’s his to give.”

No one had told you. “Oh,” genuine surprise, “Thank you for that. Yeah, I have to thank him. I’d probably still be in Valentino’s—,” the light of the lamp beside the bed flickered, “studio.”

Looking at you, Alastor couldn’t decipher the feeling in his chest. Relief, sure. Shock, yes. But behind that, a strange tugging beneath his sternum. A pain, vague and nebulous floating over his chest. Why did you come back so soon? Why did you die so early? He wanted to ask you so many things, but if you didn’t retain any memory of your time with him, he doubted he would like the answers.

“I’m going to finish my mental breakdown now, thanks for the tour and uh, the information.” Scratching awkwardly at your arm, you went and opened the door. He paused a moment before moving. “I would like to see your radio station, sometime. If you’d want to show me.” He nodded and left. The room felt colder now, deader.

Your night went exactly how you anticipated, lying awake in the plush red blankets of your new home staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you slept, if you’d see him again. Thoughts of the overworld, family, connections. Little fits of rest came but nothing more than 30 minutes here and there. 

Alastor paced his room until dawn, an animal in an unlocked cage. When you had appeared, dead and truly in hell, he thought you’d come to see him. He was embarrassed to even think it now, he had believed you wanted to be with him in earnest.  As comfortable with his company as he was yours. He cradled his head, again he felt himself succumbing to the enjoyment of others. He had accepted it with you, more so than the rest, and now it was a weapon in your hands. He felt like an idiot. And he hated it. What a fool, to think you’d died to get home to him. A growl rising in his chest. Home. He desperately wanted to see Rosie, to vent the situation and find clarity. But the idea of leaving you alone in the hotel irked him. He couldn’t put his finger on why. Maybe you wouldn’t be here when he returned. He could always summon you with your connection to him, but he wanted you to be there, with him, of your own volition or he didn’t want it at all.

If you’d forgotten entirely, he had two courses of action. To start over, or to let it die. 

He looked to his bed, remembering you lying there. Sleeping, peaceful, content. Safe. Alastor turned to the wall, knowing you lied just beyond the wallpaper and sheet rock in your own deathbed, alone. The out of place physical need for you was something he struggled with, but whatever feeling this was — far worse. You were his, yet he couldn’t have you. Couldn’t possess you in the ways he’d grown accustomed to the past year. Starting over felt tedious. But this wasn’t a feeling that would die, he knew that. He could feel that by how deep the roots of his despair sunk into his soul when you looked at him like a stranger. 

He didn’t rest that night, and neither did you.

Maybe it was the deal, the connection between you and him, but no matter where you were in the hotel you could feel him. A sixth sense, his presence always on your radar. A small part of your brain power was always on him, focused on the idea of Alastor. You wandered the halls until the others woke, feeling that little string between the two of you. Taut, strong.

When you found Angel that first morning back, you took a seat beside him in the lobby. 

“Alastor told me you are why I got help. From Valentino.” You tried your best to maintain eye contact, not getting distracted by his arms.

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart. I kinda did it for myself, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep again if I just let it happen. I’m a freak but I ain’t sick in the head like Val.” He locked his phone, turning to you, “So do you always start passin’ out mid-convo or does Charlie’s voice just do something to ya?” 

You groaned, “Did she tell you that?”

“Well she panic-sang it, real worried about you. Did you get settled in yesterday?”

“I didn’t sleep, now that you mention it.” Angel laughed, taking you by surprise, “What?”

“Oh I’m sure you didn’t. Not with your co-star next door.” He winked, “I’m sure you’re happy to be here in the flesh.”

“Ugh I forgot about that. Did -,”

“Everyone see it? Yeah you’re a minor celebrity.” You took a throw pillow and screamed into it while he spoke, “But hey! At least you don’t gotta worry about crazy fans. Smiles will keep ‘em at bay.”

“Why would he do anything for me?” Pillow still over your face, you groaned, “I’m just a soul on his roster.”

“Ha I don’t think he treats just any soul the way he’s been treatin’ you. I think Husk would tell me.” Angel kicked his feet, “What a mental image! Does he have pubes? I feel like he does but they’re like, sharp? Like hostile somehow?”

Pillow down, “Ew, Angel! Hostile? How the fuck would I know?”

Angel stopped, wide eyed, “Oh is it a secret? Is that part of the deal?” A sinister giggle, “You can tell ole’ Angel Dust. We’re pals, remember? You technically owe me.” His many fingers poked at your sides, goading you.

You scrunched up your nose, swatting at his hands, “Angel, what are you talking about?”

His smile fell, now side eyeing you, he opened his mouth to ask you to stop playing coy when he heard you all those nights in Alastor’s room when Charlie burst into the lobby. 

“I am so sorry! I didn’t tell you about the redemption activities!” She tossed papers onto the coffee table, “Alright, plan Stairway to Heaven!”

Angel sat back, bored the juicy gossip had to wait, your attention fully occupied by Charlie’s sketches.

Alastor watched you from the second floor balcony. Over the next few days he would always be watching, either from the shadows or out in the open. Looking at you, that carnal hunger was gone. He felt no overpowering desire to be surrounded by you. But, now and then, you’d make a small noise or sigh and he would feel a little twitch. A muscle memory reaction to you

Where the need to touch you had faded, he instead found an insatiable hunger to be near you. He had thought it would be better, you at the hotel. But it had become worse. The further you were, the more undone he felt. It baffled him. So, he stayed near. You were almost always within earshot or eye sight. If not, he at least knew where you were. He could focus on the hotel and his plans for Charlie only then. 

You never looked at him, it was obviously on purpose. Even when he would take a seat beside you or across from you, you’d manage to glance everywhere but directly at Alastor. By the fourth day, he felt like he was going to snap. It was beginning to feel disrespectful. 

That fourth night when you again couldn’t sleep, you found yourself at the edge of the pool. Did people in hell swim? You’d been there for nearly two hours and not a single sinner appeared. It was well past midnight, though.

The entire room was tinged pink, shadows a pretty red. The water itself looked like a sea of rose quartz. You didn’t have a bathing suit. You didn’t have anything now that you thought about it. Nevertheless, you slipped into the water and let yourself float from the edge.

What a familiar feeling, floating. The ceiling shimmered with the water’s ever-moving reflection. Mind reeling back to the green glow casting your shadow on the ceiling of Valentino’s studio. You closed your eyes, you were always sinking it seemed. Sinking out of consciousness, into a another dream, out of the woods and into the bedroom of your captivator. The only times you felt weightless— ah, right. Body held up by shadows, cameras rolling. Under him, beneath the stars, sleeping form disconnected from your mind. It was always with him. You wondered for a second if you could sleep like this. What would happen if you drowned. Could you drown?

The carpet soaked with every step you took, your body sopping wet, clothes heavy with pool water. You were dragging your bare feet to the elevator when you saw a light coming from the ajar door to Alastor’s radio studio. 

He was looking over papers, monocle resting on his cheek. Alastor turned to you, taking note of your shoes in your hand and wet hair. Your ears were heavy with water, fine fur drooping with the weight. “You look like a drowned rat, my doe.”

“Don’t call me that,” you wiped your hair from your face, “I can’t sleep.”

You never struggled to sleep in his bed. “What did you do when you couldn’t sleep on earth?”

Your life already felt far in the rearview, either the effects of sleep exhaustion or your time in the underworld, “I slept… really well. Not a sleepless night I can remember.”

Alastor only hummed a response. Because all of your sleepless nights were here, with him. 

“Why are you working?”

“Why are you swimming?”

“I just told you.” Your brows knitted, was this a conversation or a riddle.

Ever present smile beamed back at you, “Well then take a guess!”

You stared at him, sitting at his curved desk with all his switches and buttons. Papers here and there. Just smiling at you. “Cool, thanks for the waste of time.” You turned to leave when you heard a low sound coming from his chest.

“Why do you speak to me like that? Avoid me?” He stood, hair sharp and standing at attention, “What have I done to you to deserve your disgust?”

“Nothing! That’s-,” the problem, “I’m just tired. I don’t feel right, like I misplaced something. There’s a nagging feeling, maybe something I forgot in the overworld.”

Alastor closed the gap between you two, “I can assure you everything you need is here.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah. Of course.” Turning to leave, his clawed hand reached for your wrist. Pulling you back, your wet clothes were now soaking into his suit.

His free hand took your chin and made you look up at him. Alastor’s red and pink eyes stared into yours, grin wider than you remembered seeing it before. You fixed your gaze on the desk behind him. “Look at me.” His voice cracked with a static interference. Your eyes finally came to his, your hand now holding his wrist just below your chin. “Don’t you dare look away.” He saw it, a flash of recognition flit across your now wide eyes. There was a pulse of electricity to your core, your body remembering his voice, those words, like an activation phrase. How did he know? Your thighs rubbed together, feet barely touching the ground as he held you close.

When his lips crashed into yours, you melted for a moment. Your body relaxed into him, a small whine slipping from your mouth to his. But then something in you snapped back, remembering he was a stranger holding your leash. You pulled his hand from your face with ease as your feet came back to the ground. Tugging your wrist free, you opened your mouth to yell at him, nothing but heavy breathing came out. Again, he reduced you to speechlessness. You glanced at his face before turning; he looked wounded.

You thought you heard his shoes shuffling along the carpet as you rushed into the elevator. A bang, a thrash, echoing down the elevator shaft as you descended to your floor. 

Did he think because you acquiesced to sex before, somewhat under the pressure of a worse fate, he could just kiss you anytime he wanted? Did he see you as a toy? 

Maybe being a toy would be nice. Maybe a good fuck would let you finally sleep. He did hit all the right places, those shadowy appendages never letting a single need go ignored…

You slammed your door shut, angrily peeling off your clothes. No, you weren’t a possession. You weren’t an object to be taken off the shelf at his convenience. No matter how much your body ached for his clawed hands and thin waist, you wouldn’t lower yourself to being under him. Not metaphorically, therefore not physically. You curled onto your bed, naked, body humming for him. Sleep came in pieces, fractured moments of rest.

“You look like shit.” Angel greeted you when the sun finally rose and everyone mulled around the hotel. You waited until you were sure the lobby bar wouldn’t be empty, you didn’t want to run into him alone. 

“How do you fucking sleep in this place? All night just screams and moans from the city.” You rested your cheek on the bar, “Husk, something with orange juice that’ll make me forget where I am, please.”

“The moans are my favorite. Speaking of moanin’ in the night-,” Angel was cut off.

“Get used to it. You sold your soul to a psychotic dick. Welcome to the club,” Husk’s tone was harsh, tilting into sardonic as he slid your drink to you.

With a huff, you sat up, “Don’t compare us. You sold your soul. I—,” you searched with your hands for the word, “was guilty of having a colossal cunt of an aunt.” A deep sip of your drink, “Fuck, he only got my soul because he made a deal with a different demon for it. Soul traded in like a used car. I’m the Kia Sorento of hell.”

Husk grumbled, “Yeah well, either way. Might as well get comfortable. We’re here for the long haul.”

Angel put a hand out to shut up Husk, scooting his stool closer to you, “So like— did Mister Wrong-Kinda-Horny have you killed?” His eyes went to your ears and back, “Is that why ya came back a little lady deer? Some kinda sex thing?”

You downed your drink and gestured to Husk to refill your glass, speaking to Angel without looking at him, “Why would he do that?

He grabbed your bar stool and swivelled you to face him, leaning in even closer, “Well, ya know…” his eyebrows raised up and down, ready to finally get the dirty details, “because ya-,”

“My little doe, just who I was looking for.” His sudden appearance startled all three of you. He was ready now, to pin down your fate. Were you going to stay at the hotel permanently or not? With his supervision or without?

“Why does everyone keep interruptin’ me?!” Angel slammed his hand on the bar.

On impulse, your own hand formed a first, “Stop calling me that!”

Alastor laughed, unhinged, a finger wiping a tear from his eye. Still, the attitude with which you spoke to him surprised him, “Oh? Why should I? You are a doe,” his microphone gestured to your head, “And your soul belongs to me. If I remember correctly, so does your body.” His eyes darkened, back bent as he came to your eye level, “But I always have video evidence if you’re unsure of the details.” 

You lifted your glass and cocked your arm back to throw it but stopped. Alastor was grinning, something in his stare egging you on. He was loving this. Finally you were paying some attention to him. You were looking right at him.

Setting the glass back down, you left your stool and slipped past him, “Lucky for you, radio demon. It’s all you have anymore.” You had decided you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying his name.

Husk sunk beneath the bar, Alastor’s antlers expanding as his eyes became overtaken with black. Angel scrambled over the counter to join the cowering bartender. Alastor whipped around, spine cracking and stretching. You were in the elevator for another quick escape when you turned and saw him gaining on you, his mouth nearly unhinged, teeth sharp and numerous. His body contorted to get his truly demonic face in your eye line, back bending in half to drop his head down, “What did you say?” The air around him seemed to bend and shake, the hiss of a misaligned radio station biting at your skin.

Your finger was shaking as you pressed the ‘close door’ button repeatedly, wetting your lips you found your foothold in anger again, “Fuck you.”

You didn’t recognize the sounds you heard just past the hollow elevator doors. Something between a screech and a wail. Not a sound you’d heard any deer make before.

Shakey knees and legs melting to jelly barely carried you to your room. You collapsed against the door as soon as you entered, locking it. Not that it mattered, you knew that.

A knock shook the wood and made you yelp.

“It’s me!” You recognized Angel’s voice, “Let me in.”

He fell into your room, hair a mess and eyes wide, “I don’t know where he went but he left the hotel. Jesus Christ you have balls of steel.” He fixed his hair, adjusting his chest fluff, “Or are a total idiot.” He saw the tears swelling in your eyes, gears shifting immediately, “Oh shit, sorry. You okay?”

You shook your head no and crumbled to the floor, “I haven’t fucking slept more than three hours a night in like, five fucking days. I’m going crazy.”

“I don’t know why ya’ll are fightin’ but can’t Alastor help you out? Ya’ll are close, maybe a night in his bed will set you straight.”

Your tears streamed down your face, “Angel! What are you talking about?! You keep saying shit like we’re friends. The closest I’ve been to him was in my fucking wet dreams!” You curled into the fetal position on the carpet, exhausted, scared, confused. You’d never seen something as skin-crawling as his full demonic form. But a part of you was mesmerised by the transformation. A sick part of you, you decided.

Angel lied down beside you, facing you, eyes blinking. One of his hands wiped at your tears, “What exactly happened after you went home?” 

You sniffled, “I couldn’t get him out of my head. I wore your robe. It smelled like you.” 

He laughed, “I wondered where that thing went.”

“I started having these dreams, just—- really fucked dreams of him.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed, “fucked how?”

Your wanted to hide your face but didn’t have the energy to move your arms, “He fucked me in the woods like his life depended on it. Best sex of my life, in my own imagination. Naturally.”

Angel sat up, he didn’t know what to ask first, “best sex?? Sorry- no. Fuck, uh, you had dreams about fucking the Radio Demon? You two never… met up?”

You rolled onto your back, shaking your head, “If he could have visited me, he never did. Trust me, I looked for any sign.”

“Uh huuuuh.” Angel nodded, “Well. His extra weird attitude makes more sense. He’s been super creepy, always just popping’ outta shadows and shit. More than usual.”

Angel looked over you, crying softly on the floor. He considered telling you, but if Alastor hadn’t he figured it was best he stay out of it. Lest he be the one fleeing into elevators.

“Have ya considered actually fucking him?” Angel couldn’t believe he was recommending anyone fuck Alastor, but it seemed like maybe it’d actually do you good.

“Why would I do that?”

Angel looked annoyed, “Because you wanna fuck him?! Get it out of our system?”

“Yes and I sometimes wonder what it would be like to drive into oncoming traffic. We all have the call of the void. He—,” you thought about the kiss, “I feel like it’d just make it worse. I’d want more.”

Angel showed you his phone, “He’s apparently eating sinners in the doom district, so, it’s your call. But maybe a good bang would get you both to chill out.” He scrolled, “Fucking hell. The best sex, of your life? Have you not had much sex or-?”

You crawled up to your bed and plopped your now heavy body down, “Angel.”

“Do you have some weird kink? Is it just really big?”

“Angel!”

“Does he go full demon and his peni-,”

“ANGEL.”

He spun his head around to look at you, “I wanna respect your boundaries but I will actually die again if you don’t explain this shit to me.”

Settling back, you groaned, “I’ve never felt so needed before. He held onto me like he couldn’t breath unless I was under him. But you see him, you’ve been here. Does that sound like him?”

Angel sat beside you, “Honestly didn’t know he knew what sex was until you came here so” he leaned back, two arms holding him up, “You guys are pretty fucked up.” You nodded. “What did he say, when you told him about the dreams?”

“Didn’t really come up.” You rolled your eyes.

He patted your thigh, “Got it. You’re gonna owe me like, a metric shit ton of drugs.” Angel pushed off the bed, waving as he left, “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” 

You sat up, staring curiously at where he had just been. Tomorrow? It was only 9am

.

Angel spent several hours in the lobby, pretending to read and socialize with residents. He jumped from the chaise lounge as soon as he saw Alastor walking into the hotel, “Hey uh, I know you know I think you’re a freaky fuck, but I wanna just say it sucks real bad and I’m sorry.” Alastor didn’t reply or even stop walking, Angel having to jog to keep pace.

“I mean, if my fuck buddy thought our bumpin’ uglies was all just dreams I’d be super fuckin’ bummed too.” Alastor became so still so quickly that Angel nearly fell over trying to stop his momentum. He waved his hand in front of Alastor’s face to make sure he was still conscious, “uhh anyone home in there?”

Alastor’s eyes flicked to dials, residents looking up warily as the power flickered and the space seemed to distort around them, “Explain, quickly.”

“She told me this mornin’! She thinks all those nights you were bangin’ her brains out — which, from one porn star to another, sounded top notch from my room — we’re just horny dreams. She’s all fucked in the head about it.”

Alastor melted into his shadow and slinked down the hall and up the walls, leaving Angel behind, “You all owe me!”

You heard footsteps suddenly advancing on you down the hall. Spinning around, your nose nearly brushed against his, Alastor’s face already down to your level.

He leaned in to you, his mouth hitting against your cheek, “I need to speak to you in my room, dear.” His voice was clearly not asking you. 

Your blood ran cold, goosebumps dancing down your neck and arms. “Why would-,”

“Now.” His arms wrapped around your waist, you pushed him away and turned to walk off but stopped. You weren’t in the hallway anymore. A bedroom. With a haughty laugh you turned to spit venom at him for such a dirty trick.

 As if expecting it, he cut you off, “They weren’t dreams, my doe. It was astral projection.” He took you by the shoulders and pointed your entire body at the forest scene melting into his room. Had it always been there? You couldn’t remember seeing it before, when you arrived in hell. Just him and his smile.

You felt the blush rise from your toes to your ear tips. Both hands came to your face, desperate to hide your existence from the situation.

You remembered that grassy clearing, the tree line. Peaking in and up, you saw the starry sky you spent so many nights moaning into.

“Why-,” your hands balled into fists, “didn’t you tell me?!” You turned to him, face red. You wanted to shove him, to hit him, but your mother taught you better than to lay hands on someone first. You finished fights, not started them.

Alastor smiled down at you, like he always did, “I thought you had no memory of our-,”

You cut off him off at the head, “visits.”

He laughed, “spirited visits.” Was that a pun? You groaned.

“I, I thought it was just make believe.” The gentle touches, the sweet names whispered into your skin, the way you could taste him even after you woke. The blush burned your cheeks.

Now that you knew, now that your eyes fell on him once again with recognition, he felt you’d actually answer him, “How did you die?” 

The question took you by surprise, You thought it was obvious, “I tried to kill a hunter in the woods. Well, I did kill him. But he killed me, too.”

A genuine grin spread across his lips, a cackle, “You killed a man?!” You shouldn’t have been so proud, but he looked so impressed, “Tell me every detail. Who was he to you?” Alastor’s hands came to your arms. You remembered last night, pulse quickening, and walked to his bed. You took a seat on the end, sinking softly into the plush blankets. Your hand ran over the fabric. 

“My employee’s father.” The fabric was soft, the threads tiny and tight.

Alastor took a seat beside you, legs crossed, “Oh? And why him?”

A hum, “He was a bad man.”

His hand picked up yours, bringing it to his mouth. There was that loss of blood to his brain, something you effortlessly did to him. “Who says?” His own heart picking up pace. You killed. Was it egotistical to think you inspired such a thing? Did you kill for him?

You watched your fingers tremble under his lips, “What?”

“Who says he was bad?”

Your eyes searched the room for an answer, “I think anyone would agree with me.”

His smile reached his eyes, “So you decided? He probably thought he was quite alright.” He turned your wrist over, mouth pressing to your pulse point. “Did you plan it?” Your scent was familiar but different now. Skin still just as soft. He felt himself salivate. Your spell just as strong in death. 

A gulp, all of those walls you struggled to keep standing turned to dust against his smirk. A stranger, a lover. Effortlessly your body shifted into a new gear under his touch. “Yeah, for a week. I waited until I knew he was going to be there. Walked the paths, bought a knife.”

“A knife,” he practically purred, “A favorite. No gun?” He pulled your arm toward him, bringing your whole body into his.

“I wanted something more… personal.”

Alastor buckled slightly, cock jumping in his lap. “You were made to be my undoing. I am sure of it. A cruel joke from heaven to distract me.” His mouth found your neck next, little nips before he chose a place and latched, sucking a bruise easily seen by others.

“This is a really fucked conversation, Alastor.” Your body softened, a small sigh coming before you could consider being embarrassed.

“For a ‘fucked’ situation, my dear.” His nose traced along your jaw. “But one you’ll find I quite enjoy.” He placed your hand on his lap. Did he see the face you made? The stupid grin? Your hand squeezed lightly on the length you felt tenting his pants, earning a moan into your cheek. Real. He was real. In your hands, now. No dreams or projection. No fantasies. No little pink toy. “Bear with me, just a little more. You’ll find my … proclivity for such topics quite important for these kinds activities.”

“You’re sick.” You turned, nose to nose smiling still.

He hummed, his own smile spreading, “desperately so.” Your hand gently traced the shape of him through his pants, “Why did you kill him? As opposed to all the other bad men?”

A question you didn’t feel you could answer, “This topic is having the opposite effect on me…” you squeezed him again.

“Fair enough,” he pushed you back onto the bed, leg going over your body to straddle you, “Then tell me how you felt? A compromise.”

How did you feel? When you killed him? “I felt strong.” He repositioned himself between your legs, “I wasn’t scared. I knew I’d succeed or-,”

“Or?” His breathing now a barely strained pant. Say it. Say it and he’ll let himself go completely.

You focused on the canopy of his bed, a red wine color much like his own coat. “Or I’d end up here, with you.” His head fell, forehead resting on your stomach. You looked down to see his antlers larger than before, no longer cute little prongs. “Alastor?”

He wasn’t an idiot. 

Maybe a little roundabout, but you chose him. 

Red dribbled from his chin, mind going foggy as eyes went black. His hands rid you of your clothes with delicate cuts, your body lurched up the bed by wide palms. 

You chose to come back. 

Your hands came down to undo his pants and belt, seeing he probably couldn’t manage himself. As soon as he was free of his clothes, he was rutting into your thigh. “Alastor”, you took his face in both hands, dials flickers to dilated pupils as you got him to focus on you. 

“My little doe.”

You came home.

His head came to rest just above yours, wide and sharp antlers just out of reach. His leaking cock finally found your core, Alastor groaning into the blankets to find you already so wet. Your hands gripped his arms, nails breaking skin in anticipation.

Lined up and impatient, he pushed up into you with unmeasured force. You bit onto the flesh of his shoulder, trying to keep yourself from screaming. In those dreamlike visits, he filled you so perfectly, body molding to him. But now, you were stuffed. With one thrust your cervix was bruised and tender. The tiniest pain bled into the eye-rolling pleasure of having him back in you. With heavy breaths he thrust into you with a need you couldn’t ever remember feeling before. He fucked you like he would die without your moans spilling across his chest. 

And it was true, feeling your soft cunt clenching him so tightly was a need more than anything else. A ray of light at the bottom of the Mariana’s trench. Impossible, and undeserved. You were everything he wasn't good enough to have, wasn’t clean enough of conscience to hold. An angel clipping a wing to dip into hell, you killed to sink back into his arms. Even if you didn’t say it, not yet. He could feel it in you. He had left a deeper impression on your soul than perhaps you had his. You weren’t just his by way of a deal, you corrupted yourself to his level.

He looked down at you, your eyes already wet and unfocused, mouth hanging open as every breath turned into rhythmic moans. Your soul a fresh snowfall, your adoration for him a drop of blood. His eyes shut, mind focused on where you and him merged now. Friction pulling him forward to his climax.

Your body was trembling, his lower stomach rubbing against your already swollen clit. That soft button just past your entrance wasn’t just being pressed, it was smashed against your walls with his shaft. His head dragging past it. You wanted to speak, to express how good you felt, but your tongue was frozen in your mouth. Every inhale became a gasp, every exhale was now a moan. You felt his body tighten, thrusts become shallow as his large head refused to stray far from your womb. Silently, your hands tore into his shoulders as you gripped through your orgasm. The muscles in your jaw now locked. Your legs came to wrap around his hips and draw him in, thighs convulsing as his pace didn’t stop for you to recover.

With an unmistakable mating press, his cock buried itself in your pussy. Balls deep suddenly made more sense as a phrase. Your cervix stung as his body forced more room for itself in you. The way your walls spasmed around him felt debauched, your body starved for him. Hungry as he had been. Alastor felt your soft cunt drowning in his seed and he groaned into your hair. Already spilling out, he didn’t even consider unsheathing himself from you.

You struggled to slow your heart rate, vision blocked entirely with his own heaving chest. As he softened in you, so did his form. Body reconfiguring above you, antlers now small and uncharacteristically cute.

With regained red eyes, he looked at your face. 

“Are you-,” he sighed, “Asleep.” Not a bad future after all, he mused. Watching you sleep. 

He considered wiping you down before placing you beneath his blanket, but it seemed like such a waste. Your head on his pillow, he felt everything in his chest settle. Like a puzzle whose pieces were all right but just not flush, his own damned soul settled flat. Everything snuggly in place. 

One of his large palms came to rest on your head, a familiar place for him now, “Sleep well, darling doe. I’ll be here when you wake.”��

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult: @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1

🎞️ TRDFAHS VHS owners: @leathesimp , @alastors-staff, @howabouticallyou , @myrunawaysweets , @karmakillz , @serendipitous-fernweh , @universal-s1ut , @anuttellaa , @sillyb0nez , @nonamevenus , @fairyv-ice , @nitnat6245 , @alicehasdrowned , @alicebaskervilleposts , @jyoongim , @lunaramune , @christinebloodwrittings , @itszzmoon , @thekanrojimitsuri2 ,

@luna-usagi-chan

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

[babyleostuff]

svt calling you "my girl" | ot13

𝜗𝜚 theme: fluff 𝜗𝜚 pairing: svt x fem!reader

𐙚🧸ྀི choi seungcheol

does cheol call you „my girl” just because it’s cute, or does he have a hidden motive behind it? of course, it’s technically very romantic to add the „my”, but let’s remember choi seungcheol is a slightly possessive and overprotective partner. not in like a toxic way, no no, but cheol has his moments, and if he could, he’d announce it to the whole world that you were his and his only. it’s also very reassuring for him to be able to call you that, it’s like his heart fills with even more love as he introduces you as „his girl” (if you’d ever call him „my man” cheol would pass out).

𐙚🧸ྀི yoon jeonghan

a part of him does it to tease you and see you blush, because he’s very much aware of how his words affect you. but as much as he does it to get a reaction out of you, hannie just loves how the „my girl” sounds. yeah, she’s mine - and that makes him so so fluffy and just 🥰. bonus points if he uses the „my girl” if he’s slightly jealous. the way he says the words so nonchalantly while having his arm wrapped around you is just chefs kiss.

𐙚🧸ྀི joshua hong

i’ll go a step further and say that shua calls you „my darling” or „my love”. he strikes me as someone who’s really into those type of pet names (especially darling), and come on, that’s so him. very endearing, very gentlemen-y, very old fashioned yet romantic. he doesn’t pay much attention to it anymore - calling you pet names with „my” before is like breathing for him, but it never fails to turn your legs into jelly when he does so. it’s just so… ugh. the „my” beforehand makes everything so much more intimate and romantic.

𐙚🧸ྀི wen junhui

jun doesn't call you "my girl" that often, and definitely not in front of people he doesn't know, mainly because of his shyness. but the beautiful thing is - jun doesn't have to say anything for you to know that you are his and he is yours. he calls you “my girl” silently, in a way that only you can hear and understand, and that’s more important for jun - for you to know, he doesn’t need anyone else to hear it.

𐙚🧸ྀི kwon soonyoung

oh, soonyoung is PROUD and LOUD with his „my girl”. there’s nothing that could stop this man from announcing to literally everyone in the room that you’re his girlfriend (like - okay, we get it). though that mostly happens when he’s around people he knows or is at least acquaintances with, because hoshi is still our shy introvert at times. still, he makes sure to mention at least once that „oh, that’s my girl”. soonyoung can’t help himself.

𐙚🧸ྀི jeon wonwoo

wonwoo saying „my girl” is so endearing and entertaining at the same time. endearing because hello? being called „my girl” by the jeon wonwoo is everything you could’ve ever asked for. entertaining because wonwoo gets so red after he realises what he had just said. essentially, wonwoo says before he thinks, it’s like his brain quietly whispers „say it, say it, say it”, and well - he has no other choice but to do it. and that results in a very shy and very red jeon wonwoo.

𐙚🧸ྀི lee jihoon

jihoon as we know is not the most affectionate person out there and prefers to express his love through actions not words, BUT that doesn't mean you will never hear the words "my girl" from him. he definitely doesn't throw his words to the wind, so if jihoon says "my girl" he means "my girl". he especially likes to call you that when he sees that someone is too close to you for his liking, it's the perfect way to say "stay away" without coming off as overprotective or possessive.

𐙚🧸ྀི lee seokmin

seokmin is filled with so much love, so it's no wonder that the words "my girl" are common in your relationship. sometimes you feel like your boyfriend has forgotten your name, because unless he's mad at you, he calls you by some pet name. and even though he doesn't use "my girl" as often as "baby" or "honey", you know that these words are even more affectionate than anything else.

𐙚🧸ྀི kim mingyu

it’s so obvious for gyu to address you as „his girl” because… you are his, so? how otherwise should he call you? „my girl” is so normal for mingyu, like - if he spots you in a crowd of people he immediately goes: „there’s my girl”, or if he’s talking about your plans for the weekend he naturally says: „oh, my girl and i are going out of town”. you always die for a second when you hear those words come out of his mouth, because the way he says them so effortlessly is so *smashing the keyboard*. but hearing that also makes you feel so confident, like yeah, i pulled him and he’s mine :)

𐙚🧸ྀི xu minghao

another one that i’m sure would adore calling you „my love.” don’t get me wrong - „my girl” is fine as well, but for hao, who’s not the most out there with his physical touch and affection, „my love” is the perfect way to show you the love and adoration he has for you. it’s also so romantic, and cute (sometimes he finds the „babe” and „baby” a bit cringe). bonus points for calling you „my + chinese pet name” because that happens often as well.

𐙚🧸ྀི boo seungkwan

boo would love the idea of calling you “my girl” to tease you BUT in reality he gets so so shy and blushy (bonus points if he stutters), because come on… MY girl (infinite heart eyes), especially if he’s with people he doesn’t know that well. imagine his lil smile and blushy cheeks when he introduces you “oh yeah, and that’s my girl”. hello??? can we get married already??? it’s honestly very endearing, and the boys love to tease seungkwan for that.  

𐙚🧸ྀི vernon chwe

he does it so casually that many people don’t catch the endearment in his voice, which to you and anyone that knows him is so so noticeable. vernon doesn’t call you “my girl” that often, but it’s only because it’s the highest form of affection for him, so he prefers to use it rarely but put all of his emotions into it when he does.

𐙚🧸ྀི lee chan

he does it unconsciously, there’s no single thought in his mind when he calls you „my girl”. if someone was to ask him „why do you call her that?” chan would be like „like what?” (very confused puppy expression). the words „my girl” come so easily for him, it’s so natural which makes it even more endearing. besides, chan is a big big simp, and he loves you so much that he does not see another option but to call you „my girl”.

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[jesuistrestriste]

art is the MESSIEST kisser ever like if u make out his spit is literally everywhere. like he'll kiss u on the mouth then keep on kissing ur neck but w the wettest kisses ever. and i JUST KNOW he def drools. like when u give him head and his head is resting against a pillow, he's so lost in it that he can't even think. like the only thing he can do anymore is whimper and moan like a little bitch. and when u look at him u see him drooling all over the pillow😭

art donaldson has a messy mouth. he drools when it feels too good, he kisses with almost too much tongue when he's desperate, and his warm, eager lips are always on your skin whenever he gets a chance to touch you properly.

he practically salivates like a thirsty puppy on a hot day. it pools under his tongue whenever he catches a glimpse of the more intimate areas of your soft skin; the nape of your neck, your stomach, your inner thighs. and he has to try desperately to swallow it down when you two are in public and he can't get his lips on you.

the first time you and art made out, it was very sloppy. you thought this mightve been a result of minor inexperience on his part, or nervousness, or excitement, so you let it happen. you let him moan into your open mouth and grab at your shirt while he slid his pink tongue over yours. you let his sticky saliva mix with yours as your mouths mashed together. you let him kiss you and kiss you and kiss you until he came in his pants.

the whole ordeal lasted about 7 minutes.

after that, you had assumed that—in time—he'd get more reserved with his mouth as you two continued to be intimate.

but this didn't happen.

if anything, he only got more comfortable with you, and thus only became more orally-fixated and messy with his mouth.

he liked to suck on your fingers during sex.

he liked to slather your arousal with his spit when he went down on you.

he liked to kiss you wetly all over your body before bed.

he liked yearned for it all.

when you'd give him head, your slick lips bobbing over his tip and swallowing salty dribbles of precome, he'd drool all over whatever was near his mouth. it was just too hard to focus on not drooling when the warmth of your tongue got him close so fast. his eyes would get lidded and his knees would grow weak and his mind would turn to mush the second you started to blow him. sometimes you'd have to hold his hips to keep him steady. he was very predictable.

one thing you two like to do together is have art get on all fours on the bed, knees spread apart with his cock hard and hanging between his thighs. his hands will go up and squeeze onto the pillows as he lowers his head and lets you jerk him off.

it’s kinda demeaning, in a way; being milked like a cow.

but you like doing it to him, and he likes whatever you like, so he loves this.

when your hand starts to stroke his cock, strings of pre leaking from his slit, his arms will usually start to shake. it'll start at his shoulders, and then go down to his elbows, and then end when his wrists can't hold him up anymore. he'll let himself collapse down onto the cushions without more than a whine of protest and a renewed tint of pink across the bridge of his nose. his head will lay on one side of his face, his lips parted to let out whimpers and whines as his hips jolt, and then it’ll start.

he’ll drool.

all over.

down the side of his face, over his bottom lip, down his chin. it all happens depending on how his head is positioned. but he always, always, always slobbers on the pillow a little.

just as his eyes start to roll back, and his pelvis starts to shallowly move to thrust his cock into your moving grasp, his sweet and sticky saliva will dribble down his face someway and soak into the pillowcase.

he can't help it.

because, again, you make it hard to pay attention to anything other than how good you make his dick feel. it throbs in your hand.

when you catch a glimpse of his drooling, you usually smile and speed up your touch.

"Art, baby-" you'll coo to him, "drooling."

and he'll know right away what you mean.

"Anghh— feel s'good, s'good— 'm sorry, 'm sorry," he'll inevitably slur.

he'll try to wipe it with the back of his hand, but he's usually shaking too much for that to do much of anything. it more just smears the transparent fluid across his flushed face.

slurp. wipe. whimper.

a few more strokes of your hand, and a thumb pressed right under his cockhead, is all he needs to let go after that point.

his eyes will roll back as he cries out and bucks into your fist, shooting and coating the bedding underneath with his load. he'll tremble and whine until his hands grasping at the sheets below have the instinct to fly between his legs and stop the overstimulation. you generally let up soon after he makes that known.

after you clean him up and ease him into bed, he'll make sure to kiss you goodnight. and it's messy and needy and a little bit too much, but you let him do it anyways. he's eager to please, and he's eager to show you how much he appreciates the way you take care of him. he’s just eager.

maybe one day you'll get sick of how much tongue he uses when he kisses, but you doubt it. it’s just so perfectly him.

[cherienymphe]

Kingdom Come

Erik Killmonger x Reader

Warnings: DUB-CON (bordering Non-Con), mentions of toxic relationship, stalking, implied kidnapping

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies |

summary: You left Erik once, and he goes above and beyond to ensure that doesn't happen again.

𓇼

⠀

The sound of the ocean waves—something that took a lot of getting used to at first—were now the driving force behind your calm moods these days. Another nightmare had forced you to wake up drenched in sweat, and the only reason you’d been able to slow your breathing was because of the familiar whoosh of ocean water outside of your window.

You didn’t grow up by the water—wasn’t raised anywhere near it—and that sound quickly reminded you that you were far away from home, far away from anywhere familiar, and it filled you with relief. You now spent your days somewhere you would’ve once never considered living, and that was good because it meant no one from your former life would consider it a place for you to live either.

…and they wouldn’t come looking.

You watched the tea kettle heat up with your back pressed to the counter, arms crossed over your chest. Your satin robe stuck to your skin from the thin layer of sweat that still clung to it. Your heart had long stopped racing, but despite that, goosebumps still littered your arms, and you rubbed your hands up and down them. Despite how safe your mind assured you that you were, your body just refused to agree.

The low lighting in the kitchen was the only warm glow that filled the modest house, and you rubbed your head as you turned to get a mug. When you briefly closed your eyes, dark ones appeared in your mind, and you wondered when—after two years—you’d finally stop conjuring him up.

The face belonging to Erik Stevens was one you hadn’t seen in years, but that name was one you never not thought about. Not only had he been a part of your life for too long to just forget him, but the lasting impact he left made him impossible to ignore. You were literally hiding out in a foreign country under a different name surrounded by people you didn’t know because of that man.

There were days where you cursed yourself for ever getting involved with him—recalling your initial thoughts of him and how he looked like trouble—but Erik had a charm that was hard to resist. With a pretty face framed by locs and gold that winked at you whenever he smiled, he wasn’t the kind of man you’d ever be brave enough to bring home, and you had long reluctantly admitted the part that played in his appeal.

He was kind of dangerous…and you’d liked that.

Until it wasn’t random men on the street he was threatening…but you.

The whistle of the kettle pulled you from your thoughts, and you jumped at the sound. You ignored how your hands shook as you poured yourself a cup of tea, exhaling an uneven breath with thoughts of your ex boyfriend on the brain. You never thought that sleeping with the guy who was just way out of your league would change the trajectory of your life. You thought it’d make for a good story to tell to your friends and maybe even a niece or two one day.

You didn’t think that he’d keep coming back, knocking on your apartment door throughout all hours of the night, that plump bottom lip jutted out as you attempted to put your foot down—something something boundaries and respect and all that jazz. The brown-skinned man would slowly blink at you, silently telling you that he wasn’t hearing a word you were saying. The corner of his lips would quirk up into that haughty smirk—something only worn by a man who knew he was going to get what he wanted—and he’d push himself off of the wall, straightening to his full height.

“So you want me to leave?”

The question never sounded sincere, because it wasn’t, and Erik would look down his nose at you while you shuffled your feet, one hand still on the door as you fought with yourself over whether or not to close it in his face. It was useless though because you never not let him in.

You never not took a step back and watched him stride through your door like he owned the place and you with it. You never not watched him peel his jacket off, your own arms crossed over your chest as you committed to being angry for far longer than you actually were. It made you feel like less of a weak willed woman. That too was useless though because its not like you ever stopped him when he turned to you and pulled you closer.

It did no good pretending to be mad when the night always ended the same way.

Erik with his arms around your waist and you with your legs around his.

He was always gone in the morning, until the day he wasn’t, and you couldn’t find it in you to be upset about him sticking around. You actually kind of liked it, and that had scared you. He wasn’t supposed to be there in the mornings, and you weren’t supposed to be asking him if he wanted anything as you stood by the stove. Erik Stevens was not boyfriend material, and yet…

That’s what he became.

Even now, years later, you still weren’t quite sure how that even happened. You didn’t know how you ended up sharing an apartment and picking things up at the store for him and sinking into the warm scented bath water he’d draw for you. You didn’t know how you ended up obeying whenever he’d look at you with those dark eyes before softly demanding a kiss. You didn’t know how you’d started letting him circle his hand around your neck while he was fucking you, pulling words and promises out of you that you’d never say in any other circumstance.

It was something you still couldn’t make sense of, and you desperately needed to if you ever wanted to prevent it from happening again.

“Erik Stevens isn’t your average man off the street…”

That was what they told you when they sat you down in some room that was too bright only hours after showing up at your doorstep. All of it had been too much information to fully retain, but you’d processed the important parts. Erik was military—a SEAL to be more exact—and not just a SEAL but also the kind of man who occasionally dropped off the face of the earth to take out important people. It was a nice way of calling him an assassin, and you remembered how sick you’d felt sitting in that chair, recalling the feel of running your fingers over every raised abrasion along his skin whenever he had his hands on you.

“Is this some frat thing I just haven’t heard of?” you’d jokingly wondered one day.

Erik had simply turned to look at you, a hint of a smile on his lips and a hidden joke in his gaze.

“Nah,” he’d drawled. “They just represent something important to me. Milestones I guess you could say.”

Your determination to be open minded had you relaxing in the arms of a killer—a proud one who wore the name KIllmonger with no shame.

Even still, you hadn’t understood what any of that had to do with you. At that point, you and Erik had been broken up for months, something that hadn’t been easy for you to do. Not just because some part of you still wanted him at the end, but also because a huge part of you was terrified of him. You hadn’t realized that his anger and possessiveness were low on the list of reasons why you should be afraid of him.

“This man is dangerous…and the way you parted ways was…less than amicable to say the least…”

You still hadn’t put the pieces together.

“...and the U.S Government is unable to locate him.”

Winding up in something akin to witness protection because the U.S Government had lost one of their own best ‘assets’ had not been something you ever saw for yourself. To this day, you wondered why the one questionable guy you took a chance on turned out to be far more than just the average jealous asshole.

As you sipped your tea, you thought about the last time you were with him, the way your voice trembled as you stood up to him, telling him it was over. You rubbed your arm, recalling the tight grip he had on it, his voice cold and clipped as he asked you if you realized what you were saying.

“You wanna leave me?” he’d asked, head dipped and brows raised like he wanted to make sure you knew that was what you wanted to do.

You could see then that he’d wanted to fight you on it—probably wanted to do a whole lot more than that—but no one had been more shocked than you when he simply let you go with a soft “a’ight” before gesturing to the door. Everything you wanted to take had been removed while he was out, and you’d been surprised at how sad you weren’t to glance around at the apartment now empty of your stuff.

That was the last time you’d been face to face with Erik Stevens.

Until now.

When the cup that was once in your hands shattered against the floor, you paid no mind to the slight sting of hot tea and ceramic shards hitting your bare feet. Your attempt to turn and leave the kitchen had been thwarted, a tall and broad figure standing just before you in the entrance. The sight of the shadowy figure made your heart drop and your blood run cold. The only light from the kitchen wasn’t enough to reveal him completely, but you’d always been able to recognize him in the dark.

He enjoyed scaring you.

For the first time in your life, your mind went blank, finally understanding that phrase as your lips parted. No sound came out—from neither you or him—and you were sure that the sight of you two just standing in the dark and staring at each other would’ve been comical if you weren’t terrified out of your mind. The figure finally moved to tilt his head, his only movement as it leaned to the left just a tad, and the angle made the light glint off of his eyes in a way that made your stomach churn.

You were quick to search for the big light.

You sharply inhaled at the sight of him, confirming what you already knew. He looked the same and different all at once. He was still handsome and tall and wore that expression like you were just so silly to him. However, his hair was longer and the bands of muscle that were his arms were thicker, and he stood with an assuredness that you didn’t like, at all. The flashy gold tooth necklace resting on his collarbone caught the light, and your eyes were briefly drawn to it.

You traced it, a frown taking residence on your face as your gaze kept going. The casual clothes you were used to seeing him in were nowhere in sight, and you took note of the dark attire he was wearing and its patterns. He looked nice—regal one might say—and you swallowed, a very bad feeling festering deep in your stomach.

“What? You got nothing to say to me?”

Hearing his voice for the first time in years brought up a whole lot of emotions you’d tried and failed to bury. You were reminded of his voice in your ear as he woke you up in the mornings or even when he was whispering the filthiest of things against your skin as he kissed his way down it. But you also remembered the angry tone of it when he was interrogating you about some guy who’d waved at you or was questioning your feelings for him.

You remembered loving him and craving him…but you also remembered how terrified he made you feel.

At that, you took a step back—almost dazed—and the man before you kissed his teeth.

“You still on that bullshit, huh.”

Those words—filled with so much dismissal and arrogance—finally made you find your voice.

“What are you doing here?” you gasped, your question coming out choked. “How did…?”

When Erik finally moved, half of him was bathed in the shadows from the rest of the house, and the kitchen light hit his eye again in the way it did before. It glinted dangerously, almost like a feline if you didn’t know any better, and you took another step back. Erik followed your movements intensely, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“How…” he tested the word in his mouth, humming. “How is never as important as why.”

You weren’t amused by whatever he was playing at, and that crooked smile only grew.

“So serious,” he mocked, moving to fold his hands behind his back as he looked you up and down, and you hated the way he swiped his tongue between his lips as he did so. “You’re not glad to see me? Not even a little?”

When you said nothing, you watched him roll his eyes, shaking his head and his locs moved with the action. When his gaze met yours again, all humor had been wiped from his face. His dark eyes were intense as he stared at you, lips pressed together and chest heaving with the deep breath he took. You felt like an insolent child beneath his gaze.

“You know what I’m doing here.”

He was entirely serious, and you didn’t doubt him for a second.

“No…”

“You had to know I was never gone let you just walk away from me like that,” he continued, slowly pacing the kitchen and backing you further into a corner with every step he took.

His words brought tears to your eyes, and in this moment, you hated him. What was the point then? Why did he give you false hope that you were free from him? Was it just to fuck with you? Was it his idea of a sick joke? As if he could read your mind, he elaborated.

“I had some things to do,” he told you. “Some…business to take care of before I came back for you and …”

He shrugged like that explained everything you’d been put through because of him.

“...and now that I got my shit together…got everything I deserved, it’s only right that I come back and get you too.”

A noise of disgust left your throat before you could stop yourself, and Erik didn’t try to stop you as you hurried past him. You didn’t hear him behind you as you made your way to the door, too nervous and fearful to look over your shoulder. However, once you made it to the front door, you realized that you didn’t hear Erik after you because he wasn’t after you.

He felt no need to be…and with good reason.

The statuesque women on the other side of your door made you come up short, mouth falling open as you took them in. They were beautiful and straight-faced, heads smooth and wearing colorful attire that didn’t deviate all that much from what Erik was wearing. The long spears in their hands had you stumbling back, and so in shock, you didn’t even register that you’d stumbled right into Erik.

One of his arms snaked around you while the other gently closed the door, effectively trapping you once again.

The silence was loud, and finally, a few tears escaped.

“Earlier you started to ask how I found you…”

You felt Erik’s lips grazing your ear before moving down to brush along your neck. One hand was on your waist while the other had found a home on your arm, kneading the skin through the thin robe. He took a deep breath, inhaling your scent, and you swore that you felt him shudder against you.

The breath you let out was shaky, more tears collecting in your eyes.

“You’d be amazed at what you can do when you’re the king of Wakanda.”

Those damning words had your knees buckling, and when you attempted to throw yourself away from him, Erik’s hold tightened. One hand had a vice grip on your wrist while the other hand snaked around your neck.

“I like to tell myself that I did this because I deserve it, because I was wronged…but that ain’t all…”

When Erik leaned in to press his lips to yours, your mind was finally at war with your heart once again. You’d forgotten what it felt like to kiss him, forgotten what he tasted like, and you couldn’t stop the sharp breath you took as he moved his mouth against yours. The hand on your neck tightened just a tad, like a chain keeping you to him, and you felt him smile into the kiss.

“I like being somebody that you can’t ever leave.”

Those words whispered into your mouth made your heart sink, and your protest was lost as he kissed you again.

You shook in his hold for varying reasons, fear above all else. Erik had his hands on you again, and he had no intention of taking them off. They pulled you and pushed you where he wanted you to be, and it seemed that he decided the couch would suffice. He wasn’t bothered by your lack of consent, and somehow that didn’t surprise you.

There’d been moments in the past when you expressed discomfort or you protested or you rejected him and for the briefest of moments, something had passed through his eyes that made you think he didn’t care. A glint in his gaze that made you think he was going to do what he wanted—take what he wanted—anyway. You’d always had a nagging feeling deep in your chest that Erik was just holding back, keeping himself in check with you because it was socially acceptable and not because he actually wanted to.

…but he was a king, now—something you believed without a doubt—and that title corrupted even the best of men…let alone a man who already wasn’t shit to begin with.

When his bare chest grazed against yours, a shudder traveled down your spine, and Erik reached under you to trace that path with his fingers. One hand was still carefully at home on your neck, and the gold fangs in his mouth winked at you in the nearly invisible lighting. When you felt those abrasions underneath your fingers—every one for a kill—it suddenly hit you that you were underneath him again and for good this time.

“You don’t know how much I missed this pussy,” he murmured into your skin, a hand tightening almost painfully on your waist just as he sank into you.

The feel of his cock stretching you out had your back arching, chest pushing up against his. It hadn’t been just years without sex with Erik but years without sex altogether. Part of it was because you still had some lingering loyalty to the man between your legs, telling yourself he’d somehow know and find you—despite the fact that you weren’t his anymore—and part of it was because he’d simply ruined you for any other man. Either way, it all came back to Erik.

You couldn’t stop the strained gasps that left your lips, the slight sting and dull ache from the stretch making you dig your nails into his skin. This was not what you wanted, but you swore that Erik was stronger now than he ever had been before. The feel of him thrusting himself into you reminded you of all the hours you’d spent wrapped up in each other when things were still good between you. Hell, even when they weren’t, it wasn’t uncommon for an argument to end in you bent over the kitchen counter with Erik’s pelvis pressing against you.

He had a way of controlling a situation, steering it in whatever direction he wanted it to go.

Like now.

How was it that you go into hiding to remain safe from this man only to wind up at his mercy yet again? It was unfair, and you couldn’t stop trembling as you pushed against his chest.

“Erik…”

Your words died on your lips when he shushed you, his locs brushing against your skin as he nipped at your neck and then your shoulder and finally your chest. The light moan you let out was involuntary, and you hated that smug chuckle that escaped his lips.

“You always try to act so tough and shit…but we both know once I get my hands on you…”

Anger bubbled up within you at his words, and you couldn’t resist slapping him. Before where that might’ve pissed him off, Erik only smiled in your face. Taking your hand, he held it tight before pinning it against your stomach, and he looked down, briefly distracted by the sight of his cock disappearing into you. He slowed his thrusts down, and the change in pace almost made you roll your eyes.

“You gone love Wakanda, baby,” he said to you, lips meeting your skin again. “The most beautiful sunsets…”

He nipped at your shoulder.

“...anything you could ever want…”

Another kiss to your lips.

“...and guards to watch your every move.”

His nose touched yours as he said that, and you felt him reach down to hook his arm under your leg. You hissed, feeling him even deeper into your gut as he bent your leg back. Erik didn’t take his eyes off of you as he fucked you, hips meeting yours and the wet sound of his cock dipping into you reaching your ears.

“I came back just for you,” he darkly told you, completely ignoring your hand pushing at his stomach. “...because what kind of king would I be with no queen at my side?”

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