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osamucide · 13 days ago

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FLAVOR PROFILE—gn+afab!reader, references to pregnancy but nothing super intense+nothing gendered, oral sex (m!receiving), breeding, creampie, cum play, soft domestic Chuuya, Chuuya with baby fever, rough sex, dirty talk, teasing, nicknames (babydoll, baby, pretty, daddy in the sense of the breeding kink)

ABV—3.3k

tags, with love—@chuuminn @thewickedjazzy

He's holding his breath.

He doesn't realize it until you look to him, your eyes filled with laughter as the baby on the hip of the woman next to you reaches again for your hair.

I don't mind, you'd insisted with a smile when the mother apologized sheepishly over her shoulder for her handsy, outgoing child—you really don't, and the restaurant lobby is rather packed, after all. It isn't somewhere Chuuya would usually take you out (he'd rather bring you somewhere more upscale and less public) but this is one of your favorite places, and when you'd suggested it for date night this month, he couldn't help but agree after seeing how excited you got to show it to him.

And now he's exhaling, subtly as he can, as you turn back to the baby, untangling its little grasp from your hair and offering up your fingers instead; a tiny hand wraps entirely around your index finger, and when your face lights up with a grin and you coo, the baby mirrors you, giggling in that way that babies do—all teeth, squinted eyes, and pink, chubby cheeks. The opposite tiny hand swats at you, which you laugh through but direct a quiet, hey, play nice to, and now that Chuuya relaxes his shoulders, he's able to feel his face go red not from lack of oxygen but from how unbelievably fucking adorable the scene playing out in front of him is.

He doesn't stop thinking about it, even after you and the baby have waved a regretful and playful goodbye as you made your way to your table—one in a more secluded corner, much to his relief. Or, maybe, much to his disadvantage. There are images playing through his mind like a movie—you with an infant on your hip, cradled in your arms; it sports a pop of bright ginger hair on its soft little head, and you kiss it with such care. You, spoon-feeding a baby, you dancing with its tiny feet on top of yours, you lighting up at its first intelligable words. Its auburn tuft gets longer. Maybe it's a boy. Chuuya's son. In a span of seconds, the boy child's early years flash before him—reading with him sleepy and cuddled between you, pitting him against one another in comical prank wars, opening his birthday presents, walking him to school, gently washing his locks that he got from his father.

Yes, he's fucked for tonight.

Once you're both seated—he pulls your chair out for you like the textbook gentleman he is, though his mind swims—you tilt your head on your hands and raise an eyebrow at him.

"You alright, honey?" you ask. "You're a little red."

"Yeah, yeah," he brushes you off. He can't get a thing past you. "Just warm in here, 's'all."

"It's not exactly our usual type of spot." You turn a little red yourself. "Sorry, Chuu."

"No," he half-snaps, thinking he'd come off as stuck up—fuck, he ought to assert himself softer right now, "no, I don't mean—it's not the place, it's just—"

When he pauses to swallow, you tilt your head even more. It's rare that your slick-tongued, spitfire of a boyfriend is ever lost for words, so something must be up. You find a splinter of anxiety run through you as you wait for him to say something like he has to leave, boss's orders—it wouldn't be the first or last time something like that had happened on date night, but his next words both quell your fear and spark your attention.

"—it was just really cute watching you with that baby."

Ah, you think, smirking. "Really? You think so?"

Chuuya nods, loosening his tie a bit, hoping you'll make maybe one more little quip and then let it go so he can focus on letting it go. It's absurd to him that something so small and innocent has him hot beneath the collar. You're at dinner, at your favorite place—he's not planning to ruin it over the fact that he can feel his dick twitching to life in his pants over thinking about you parenting his child. That can be for later. He's going to focus on letting it go and also the array of sandwiches the restaurant offers on the cute, laminated menu with curly designs framing the perimeter that he suddenly finds very intriguing.

He knows you're going to speak again. He just hopes it won't be the next words that are falling from your mouth as you bat your lashes at him coyly.

But it is.

Your gaze flicks down to the menu—there's a wrap from here you always get, you're eyeing it with familiarity—but you've been here a million times; you hardly need to zero in on that, not when you've reduced the man in front of you to short puffs of breath as he scans the menu with vacant eyes. He is much more interesting. Chuuya Nakahara, feared mafioso, most powerful ability user in Japan if not the world: flustered at the mere image of his partner bantering with a baby.

You right yourself, looking thoughtful. "You think we'd be good parents, Chuu?"

But that coyness doesn't leave your voice; he hesitates to look up at you, knowing you'll be sipping your complementary glass of water in a manner to match, avoiding his eyes so he has to chase them so he can answer you with a sharp glare instead of the words he's thinking that will come out cracked and desperate—a yeah, we would, or even don't be silly, because who is he kidding? He's a mafioso. He's got his hands full trying to protect you as it is. He's killed people. He's certainly not the worst of the worst—he likes to think of himself as a man of morals, despite his profession—but there are certainly circumstances for a child of the both of yours to possibly end up entangled in that make his stomach turn even now, before anything has happened, before anything can happen, but he's righted himself after the challenge of your question and the words are tumbling out, confident, bold, the way you're used to hearing them—a challenge right back to see if you'll bite—

"Maybe we should find out."

Your eyes lock onto his then; a waitress floats by to refill your water glasses and ask if you're ready to order.

"We're gonna order to go," you say cordially, closing your menu. "If it's not too much trouble. Something came up."

"Of course," she chirps, pen and notepad scribbling down whatever it is that comes out of his mouth next—it might what you got, it might not be, but Chuuya's hardly focused on that enough to know—to care. "We'll get those right out for ya. Sit tight for about fifteen minutes, yeah?"

—

You sit tight for about fifteen minutes in the dining room, and then about fifteen minutes more on the back of Chuuya's motorcycle—the ride to your apartment should normally take about thirty. You clutch the takeout bag, but you're more invested in the arm you have wrapped around his middle which drops down to stroke his thigh at red lights; it has his knuckles tight around the throttle.

It has his fingertip mashing madly against the elevator button up to your place; he's impatient, it's evident in the way his heels hardly meet the floor as he strides in, finds you, immediately hikes your leg up against him and kisses you hard before the doors slide shut. He doesn't care who sees. Pretty soon, he figures, everyone will be able to tell anyway; you'll be cradling his kid, the spitting image of him, on your hip everywhere you go and there'll be no doubt who you belong to. What's an innocent kiss in the elevator?

By the grace of some god—or maybe, to Chuuya's ilk—no one stops you on the way up. Well, less time to spend stumbling toward the door as you're grabbing the hem of his shirt, untucking it frantically from his pants; he's guiding you by the back of your neck through the door and slamming it shut as you toss your takeout on the counter and promptly forget about it entirely in favor of wrangling each other into your bedroom.

It's late, but not so late that a sliver of sunset doesn't fall like a invitation across the sheets of your bed, left messy and slept in and loved in from the night before. An orange beam strikes across Chuuya's face, already flushed on his own account and yours, as you crawl atop him, slot your hips together; his hat falls over the edge of the bed and you take it as an opportunity to card your fingers through his fiery bangs while he works your shirt up and off. Cup his jaw, allowing for hot puffs of breath against your lips. Linger down his throat and into the line of buttons that keeps you—not for long—from his gorgeous, sculpted chest and middle.

And the gasps you pull from him when your hands splay across his pecs, up his shoulders as you kiss and bite your way down—they're like song.

"Oh, babydoll..." Chuuya's sighing, flicking his head up to watch you, then back at the bliss you so easily administer to his worn body; he's all rough edges, so ready to go, it's almost like torture to have you teasing your way down his abdomen with you tongue, taking it slow compared to where he wants to take you—but then again, it's you, so fuck it, he'll take everything you give him. Your touch is enough to send him reeling in the sweetest way.

When you work his cock out of his dress pants, he's throbbing, sticky.

"God, I really got you riled up, huh, Chuu?" you tease, tracing a ring around the head of his cock that sends his head back again; he props himself up on his elbows to watch you, hungrily, still red, now redder at your words. "Something so simple, too."

"'S'it so strange to get hard thinkin' about knockin' you up?" he teases back, albeit more breathless than you.

You relish in the small moments like this where you have control—where you're allowed to giggle and circle your tongue over the path your thumb just traced, lapping up his precum and letting your fingers settle delicately around his length. Where you get him to explain himself in low groans and lashes fluttering over his freckled cheeks. You make it a little show for him, every time, like it's customary, never mind how disgustingly you're soaking through your pants right now. You grind on nothing, acutely aware of how empty you are but so enamored with the man you have at your mercy in front of you as you hollow your cheeks and dip your chin to fit a few inches of him in your warm mouth. Low groan. You throb, sticky, too.

"Fuck..." he breathes, still-gloved hand coming to push your hair out of your face; you, doe-eyed and drooling, is a sight he won't, can't miss. You look so pretty sinking your face down onto him, and it sends a shimmer of pleasure all the way to his toes when your tongue traces another circle, this time around the middle of his cock; he's going to lose it so fast, he knows it.

Chuuya loves to watch you worship his cock.

Which leaves him momentarily torn between letting you keep going, letting you keep wiggling your ass in the air so cutely as you suck him, turn him into putty with your lips and tongue, or pulling you off him and stuffing you full as quickly as he possibly can. He watches you, watches you; mouth falling open when you swirl, eyes rolling back when you play with his balls, frozen, in heaven until he comes back to what it was he dragged you home so quick to do: make a baby.

Your nose is just reaching the coarse, red tuft of hair at the base of his cock when he's working you up, off him by your hair, by your wrists, willing you up onto your knees so he can shove his hands between the wretched barrier called your pants and yank them down. You fall into him, kissing him, ever harder.

"Chuuya," you gasp when the waist of your pants and underwear are at your thighs and you feel two cool leather digits circling around your clit. "Ah—"

"Baby, 'need to fuck you, now," he mumbles with urgency against your lips; you're so fucking wet that you just tip onto your back to kick off your garments—he does the same with the rest of his— and spread yourself wide open for him, taking note of the wild look in his eyes next to all the lust, all the lovesickness. You hold yourself open, clenching around nothing, feeling every inch of him as he slinks up your body and slides into you so easily, like he's meant to be there, like he's meant to be pumping you full.

"Gonna fill me up, Chuu?" You're relentless. For now. "Gonna have it drippin' outta me?"

"Unh—agh, oh, fuck," he curses as you clench around him now. "Not gonna let any of it go to waste, babydoll." You rock your hips as he bottoms out and you're reaching for his wrists, his hands, tearing his gloves off his lithe fingers as they're the only thing that keeps you from feeling him so fully now and soon they're gone, too, with the rest of your clothing, and you have him, you have his fingers between yours, clasping hard like they did around the handles of his bike while you left a wet patch on the seat, turning whiter than they ever have, it seems, now that he has a mission beyond just filling you up. He's going to do that, of course, but it's more than just cum; it's him. He wants to put a fucking baby in you.

Which is what he mutters against your neck as he moves, pulls back, and thrusts forward roughly the way he always does on the first one—just to hear you yelp. Now it's his turn to chuckle. You've had your control, and even though he knows more about the control you exert even when you're under him than he'll ever tell you, he relishes in it, too. The way you squirm, the way your knees snap shut around his waist; he smiles into your skin as he picks up his pace, leaning up to watch your head nod against the pillow with the force underscoring his rhythm.

"Fuck, Chuuya," you whisper as the tip of his nose brushes yours. "Love you."

"Love you," he chants back without a second thought, ginger curls curtaining against your face. "Gonna give you my fucking kids. Know we'll be the best parents."

You would giggle again if he wasn't knocking the wind out of you with his next stroke; this time, as it flashes across the back of his eyelids, it does across yours, too. A little redheaded baby, with your eyes, your nose. It has Chuuya pistoning into your cunt, sends sounds of your lovemaking echoing off the walls. The sunbeam slips out of the room, painting you both in the evening; a perfect evening, orange and blue, so much like him, deep like your love and the moans he tears from your throat each time he bullies his way against the entrance to your womb.

Chuuya spends time working you and himself up—he always does. He knows how to angle himself in a way, knows how to fuck steadily in a way that not only drives you over the edge, but turns him into something more of an animal than a man just because it sends you arching, crying—he feeds off of you feeding off of him. A dance that, as those visions flash by him, he thinks, not for the first or last time, he only ever wants to dance with you.

"Chuuya," you cry again—it soon becomes the one of the only things you can get out coherently, other than, "Please, please—"

"W-want that? Wanna make me a daddy?" he presses between feral kisses; you bite each other's lips, you dig your heels into his back, you carve crescents with your fingernails into his knuckles as you nod—it's all you can do amidst his pace, amidst how steadily he's pounding into that spot that makes you scream.

A yes hurtles out of you, strained and broken; a string of more garbled yeses follow, intermixed with pleases and fucks, as your gradually more and more fucked-out brain latches onto to the word. "Wan' give you a fuckin' baby, Chuu, wan' make—unh, wan' make you a daddy, please, need y'tuh cum in me, Chuuya—" and his name trails off into a strangled groan as he releases one of your hands to reach down to your clit.

He rubs you with a quickness that sends lightning to the tips of each of your limbs. He feels your ribs press up, press into his; he watches your eyes roll back; he feels you claw at him with pure abandon as you ripple and heave against each other. He could fuck you forever. He will fuck you forever.

"'M so fuckin' close, pretty," Chuuya growls.

"Cum in me, Chuu," you whimper back, voice shaking as each rough thrust shatters it a little bit more. "P-please, please, please, don't fuh—don't fucking—unh—don't stop!"

Your teeth grind; a bead of sweat falls from Chuuya's forehead onto yours and you groan, almost twist from the pleasure that courses through you all the way to your fingers and toes, abruptly shortening his harsh thrusts as you trap him in the grip of your legs around his waist, his back, his ass, like a vise. You feel him pulse. He doesn't let up. Your orgasm crashes over you like thunder; twitching, creaming, milking him as you pull him down to your mouth to swallow the curses he sobs out as his own climax catapults through him, hot, heavy.

"Unh—ah, ah, baby, I'm—oh, fuck!"

"Fuck, yes—"

Your name, babbled and cracked; warmth spreading throughout you, tremors subsiding, and Chuuya, winded, letting his face fall into your shoulder as he weakly lets his hips come to a stop. You squeeze him closer, looking for air, rolling against him until you're both totally spent. Totally glowing.

"Fuck," he says again, lifting his auburn head like he's in a trance. "Fuck, lift those hips up, babydoll."

Without pulling out of you, he grabs an extra pillow and folds it, wedging it beneath your trembling hips; you look to him, hazy, as he leans down to press one kiss to each of your shoulders.

"Gotta make sure it stays in there, yeah?"

You let out a breathless laugh. "Oh, god, Chuuya."

"Yeah?" he asks again, pulling back to grin down at you, his two-toned eyes still swimming with all that lust, all that love. He circles his hips. "Give me a second before we go again."

"Again?" you repeat, smirking back at him; he sits up and peers down to your messy hole, still stuffed with him. He scoops up an escaping droplet of his cum and tucks it back between your folds, which still spasm softly. Your mouth falls into an o at the intrusion of his finger next to his cock.

"Gotta make sure you gimme a baby," he rasps slyly, and you giggle once more, mirroring the glimmer in his conspiratory eyes. Conspiring to love you for a long time.

"Alright, daddy."

#chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara smut #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #nnnsfw.ᐟ #kinktober 2024 #with love—reid

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dontbesoweirdkira · 1 month ago

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Platonic Yan! Batboys x Batsis darling

A/N: I want to talk about the concept of batsis having a s/o or a crush and how the family would react to that. I'm sure this concept might've been done but if i may speak-

Warnings: Obsession, relationship sabotage, overbearing family dynamics

Requests: always open.

Masterlist

Dick Grayson

I think he's kind of complex about this issue. I don't think !yan Dick would have a problem with you dating in itself. Like there is so many siblings and no way to keep all of these hormonal teen and young adults at bay. He's been there, he gets it.

But there's some conditions. You have to have a good relationship with dick, first. It you are close, that means you tell him...everything. He can easily monitor you and the progression of things. You'll be trusted to tell him is something goes wrong and he can step in. You won't mind Dick tagging along or being generally invasive. You won't forget about him or the family, he knows that you'll drop everything and come running. His grip is already secured firmly around you and your mind so theres no reason to worry. Have fun, be safe.

If you're anything like my previous posts where batsis is not close with dick in the slightest, he'd sabotage that relationship. He's not having it at all. Your dating is a threat to the family. You already have an apprehension of him, so anyone can swoop in and take his sis away. He doesn't want that. He doesn't trust your judgement or decision making skills enough. Dick knows that if someone hurt you or was dangerous, you'd hid it from him. You refuse to give Dick any sort of access to your life so therefore dating is a no. Sorry baby bat, it's for your own good!

But maybe i'm wrong. Maybe Dick doesn't want any of his siblings dating..especially his batsis. I've said before that Dick has given up his previous relationships among other things for the family. His siblings are his most important priority and he's willing to do whatever it takes to make sure they're properly provided for. What if he expects the same. He's jealous over the fact you all get to go out and date and he cannot because he's stuck playing dad? What if he's jealous that you're spending all your time with someone else? You don't have time for your older brother anymore

He's hurt when you embarrassingly hide your partner from him. You're critiquing everything he does and tells him not to call you by the nicknames he gave you. Yan! Dick hates being discarded. And maybe, none of this happened? Maybe you gladly show off your brother to your partner? Maybe just the thought of you one day getting married and leaving him fills his mind. He overthinks about being left here alone like Bruce was...he doesn't want that. He cannot have that. You cannot date for your own good...for his own good

Jason Todd

I don't think he'll ever vocalize his true feelings. and reluctantly allows it. Jason is rather against you dating, but because he doesn't trust anyone outside of the family. Plus he doesn't like that he gets to see you way less now.

Jason would be the brother that'd be cleaning his guns while you're introducing you partner to him. His tone is sharp and he doesn't embrace them once. He wants them to know there is someone in your life that'll kill for you if they hurt you.

I think if Jason sensed the person you were dating wasn't any good, he'd handle it privately. Your partner ghosts you for three days then sends a "i don't want to see you ever again." text. Weird. Everything was going great. Luckily your brother Jason just got back from his three day trip to comfort you.

If the partner is good but he doesn't really get any time with you, i think he's get a little out of character. Suddenly he's a lot more clingy to you when you're there. He's just following you around the entire house and wanting to spend every second with you. If it gets bad enough he will have to intervene with his other siblings. He misses you. This whole dating things sucks, who needs them when you have a perfect family. They're all you need.

Damien Wayne

He doesn't like change. At. All. This family is perfect as it is.

So don't mess it up by changing the natural order of things. This partner of yours is a nuisance. An incompetent, brain dead loser who is dragging you down with them. You don't need them. Damien is rather offended that you felt like you even needed something more outside of the family. What does this prick have that they don't?

He's weary of the fact that this person wanted to date you. Not that you're not enough but you're a Wayne now. People always wants something, if not money, its something else. You're foolish for this.

On a deeper level, Damien feels like he's loosing a parent. It's clear that your partner doesn't like your younger brother or even want him around. He misses you driving him around, reading together and sneaking out. You've never taken his often impolite banter to heart, you loved him as he was. He felt drawn to you. You were like a mother figure to him..don't do this. He;s sad and thinks you don't love him anymore.

Tim Drake

Maybe the least closest to you. You probably think he doesn't even like you but it's not true. He's just an observer more than a hands on type of person. He's just as yandere as the others, he cares. The second he got the name of your partner, he spends all day searching up dirt on them. He has a file of blackmail sitting pretty on his hard drive in case that person hurts you.

He's not confrontational like the rest. He's a bit too socially awkward for that but if he seriously felt you were in danger, he'd stop you. I think he'd mainly plot with the others to sabotage the relationship.

Like Damien, he doesn't understand why you need someone so badly. The family is more that fulfilling to him so why not for you? Time misses the little things like when you'd bring him food to his desk, or usher him to take a break from his computer. He misses your laughter and interactions with the rest of the family. He doesn't feel safe with you being out so much. The world is a dangerous place, it's safer here, where everyone can protect you. They all love you, and their love combined is far stronger than your partners.

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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 7 months ago

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𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

synopsis: you get arrested and sent to the fortress of meropide after being oblivious to a Fontainian crime, so your boyfriend Nuevi gets you out by striking a deal with the Duke, Wriothesley ;)

tags: threesome, double penetration, semi-public, vulgar, explicit

wrd cnt: 500+

a/n: repost/rewrite from first acc!

You couldn't believe the circumstances you were in, who knew Fontaine had some obscure rules with loans? One overdue day and you'd have rather get strucken by a loan shark than be sitting in the Fortress of Meropide right now.

You did get one call though, and of course the most sensible person to contact right now was the Ludex, who just so happened to be your partner. He could surely get you out of here, if anyone.

It was almost a whole hour wait, as Neuvillette was in the middle of a trial, but left as urgently as he could to come get you. That wasn't the only obstacle, the most difficult was the Duke.

"I'm sorry Neuvillette, I can't bend the rules for you" the brown haired man stammered on, "as much as l've done it before...this one's out of my control. She's in the files now." He explains. "I could try but it's too risky".

You heard back and forth for some time.

After what seemed to be hours of negotiations, it seemed your boyfriend ran out of all his other ideas.

"If it's really this hard" Neuvillette said, putting a firm grasp on your thigh, pulling it open slightly, "I don't mind...sharing some of the difficulties with you, Wriothesley. You've always been one for risks."

You felt your face burn in a deep pink hue, was he really about to whore you out? In this cell?

"Wouldn't be the worst thing to happen..." You thought in your head.

"Mr Wriothesley, there must be a way we can figure this out?" You plead. Going along with your partner.

"You two...you're quite forward huh? Do I follow you clearly?" He asked, standing from his chair to approach you two while loosening his tie.

It was exactly clear, and Wriothesley was exactly right.

"This place is quite uncomfortable, I can't believe you'd subdue her to this, Duke."

"Well I'm not the one who built it you know, I just run the place."

"Well honestly we need to reevaluate, seems all too gauche." Neuvillette admitted, complaining about the bars he was pressed up against.

"S-slow down- fuck..." You breathe out, barely managing to keep your eyes open while the two men bicker while deep inside you, all too casual in such a risqué act. Your back was pressed up against Neuvi, resting your hands on his arms which held you up, cupping your ass, while Wrio held your legs up, pressing closely to your front while they both put their cocks in your wet hole.

"Aww...getting tired? I can assure you it's better than staying in here my dear" Wrio says, gripping your legs tighter as he smirks down at you "If you were to stay any longer, I'd be real hard for me to ignore you now after this..."

You hear Neuvillette scoff at his flirty remark, "treading dangerous waters now Duke, be careful" he said, a slightly threatening tone.

"Lighten up...just making some conversation." He says annoyed, tilting his head in curiosity at your face, shifting down to whisper close to you, pressing your legs against him closer in turn.

"What's your name sweetheart?" He asks. His lips brushing against your cheek.

Out of breath, you mutter it out for him, almost unnoticed over the sound of your sticky cum soaked cunt and his lower stomach slapping together. Your moans bounced off the walls in the cold dark room. You wondered if anyone could hear you.

If anyone was listening to you mewl and cry in pleasure over getting stuffed full of cock.

"Fuck...you're so tight, Y/n..." He grunts out, fucking you even harder now.

"You're being so good my love" Neuvillette speaks into your other ear, "I'm sure we'll get you out of here now" he assures, caressing your waist with his thumb as he holds you up, his cock slowly hitting the gummy spot in your pussy, completely opposite of Wrios animalistic thrusts. "Right, Wriothesley?"

"Fuck- you feel so.... Huh? Oh yeah just- don't worry hun...I'll..." Wriothesley rambles incoherently, drunk on your pussy.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #genshin smut #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #wriothesley smut #wrio smut #wriothesely x reader #wriothesley #wriothesely genshin #wrio x reader #neuvillete #neuvillete x reader #neuvillette smut #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette genshin #neuvilette genshin

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sugoi-writes · 6 months ago

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REQUEST TIME :333 ummm this is actually my first time requesting here but I’ve been so obsessed with Human Alastor so maybe a sexy thing where he hunts you (fem reader) down in the wooded near his cabin with his shotgun? This is so dangerous lol but he’s shooting and splitting trees as you zip pass them in your nightgown (he would never shoot you it’s for the flare) you stumble over an old stump and he is on your ass! You fight and tumble around before he’s dragging you by your ankles back to his cabin to have his way with you? (All of this was very much consensual between the two of you elaborated foreplay if you will!)

Trigger Happy - Human! Alastor x Fem!Reader

My friend in Satan, I am SO sorry for how long this took! I was honestly getting worked up over it!!! Hate the delay, but I hope the story itself will be worth it! Just as a warning, this is getting towards risky territory, but I promise nothing too bleak. A few warnings: Guns, a heated foot chase, you get distracted there for a while, some physical violence/tussling, f!reader, some f!oral and m!oral, overtsim, rope/restraints, and some REALLY filthy penetrative sex. Y'all are some absolute freaks in this one. Hope you enjoy! (ALSO THIS IS LIKE INSANELY LONG IM SORRY ITS LIKE 9K--)

SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO @minkdelovely and @hazelfoureyes for helping me through this and being my scream queens/beta readers dhoduhdouhdoduhdohidoi <3 (I'm in love with both of you BLINKBLINK)

Taglist: @ieatcocoa @nocturessa @tsukikos-stuff @leviskittywh0re

@polyo-nym-y @cosmiccandydreamer @littlebluefishtail @your-excellenc-z21 and others (if you wanna be tagged I'll add you! Sorry I've never made a taglist before???)

🩸🦌🩸

Your hands fidgeted in your lap as Alastor finished the final touches of tonight's meal. You regarded him nervously as his humming filled the humble interior of his inherited cabin. He was in such a good mood, you thought... Why spoil something so tender and domestic between the two of you?

For a while now, you knew of your darling beau's aversion to many things, physical intimacy being one he struggled with most. At least, compared to most... You hardly minded, as when you were on the receiving end of such of intimacy... Well, let's just say you could usually expect to be bedridden for a few hours. You swallow the bile creeping up, nerves reflected in your voice as you spoke," Alastor, dear?"

A pair of kind, almond-colored eyes looked upon you, making your heart leap. Alastor's eyes turned a warm amber when exposed to the charming lighting provided by the fireplace.

"Yes, darling?" Alastor cooed, his tone still airy and filled with a domestic softness.

"Could we... could we talk for a moment? Before dinner?"

Your partner gave you a bemused look, as if he were asked a ridiculous question. His hands settled on his hips as he rocks his weight onto his other foot, eyebrows raising.

"Dear, why let the food grow cold? Could we not discuss it over dinner? I tell you, it's JUST like my mother's; it's hearty, filling, and--"

"Alastor," you interrupt, a stern bite cutting through your meek tone," Pl-Please... If I try to tell you while you're eating, you'd probably choke." Alastor grants you an interesting look, eyes widening with your change in demeanor. But of course, he relents, sighing like a demure housewife.

"Well then, who am I to refuse... Choking is rather unpleasant, anyhow." Quickly, Alastor fusses over your meal, dousing the fire to let it simmer.

"Now then: we have a few minutes before I need to stir it. Tell me... what's troubling you?"

You gesture for Alastor to sit with you, to take his place at the table. He silently moves towards it in confident, wide strides. You watch nervously as he sits, crossing his legs formally. You felt the sweat trickle into your brow as his simple actions felt like they took an eternity... Alastor then sets his elbows on the table, resting his chin upon his folded hands. He looked... entirely too comfortable, a stark contrast with your stiff spine and sweating palms.

Alastor watches you quietly, granting you a moment to collect your thoughts. And then, you speak:

"Alastor... you know how-- well, it's been a while since we last-- Uhhm..." The quiver of your lip tips your partner off immediately, his eyes squinting. The smile that plays on his face is telling, his teeth gleaming under the dim light.

"Oh honestly, what am I to do with you? Yes, of course we can try for a little romp tonight. But... I sense that our standard 'bedroom practices' aren't the only thing clouding your mind?"

He just didn't get it. He didn't understand the weight of what was on your mind, and how quickly it was going to hit him. You were thinking of this for weeks, terrified of his reaction... But, in the comfort of the cozy, warm cabin: it was now or never. You felt a tinge of guilt as you felt his flirty smile widen, ready to shatter his expectations.

You nod in affirmation, forcing yourself to look his way fully," Right. I have an idea. Something to... change things up. 'Make it a bit more interesting, if you'll hear me out."

Alastor hums pleasantly, one of his hands gesturing outward in an animated way. He regards you just the same, opening the floor to you. You steel your nerves, hands turning to balled up fists as you formulate your next thought bluntly," I want you to hunt me, Alastor. I wanted to be hunted."

A silence befalls the room, causing panic to rise in your chest. Your chaste, Creole partner stares back at you, eyes wide. His expression was damnably neutral, as if processing your demand. You immediately start onto a tangent, leaning forward as you make your case.

"L-Look, I know how that sounds... I don't want you to actually hurt me or kill me-- I mean-- I feel like you'd be terribly sad if I were gone, but-- No, I mean in a more..."

When you trail off, you expect Alastor to pick up on your meaning. You sigh with frustration, your hands mirroring each other as they mimed your body's curves and contours," ...sexual... way."

Alastor's expression morphs under the light of the fireplace, which burned dutifully. Alastor's black pupils dilate, his mouth falling ajar. He sits upright in his seat, leaning back as he takes everything in.

" You want me to... pursue you. Hunt you... like I would wild game? Is... Is that what you're asking?"

You nod firmly, your hands trembling," I-I know, I know... it's different. I told you it would be different--"

"Different is hardly a bad thing, mon cherie... 'just surprising, is all," Alastor drawls, his eyes softening. He could see how much you were worked up. You were scared to disappoint; scared to be rejected. He hated to see the soured look on your face, and was determined to replace it with something else," What exactly do you have in mind? This-- pursuit of ours... what are the conditions?"

It was now your turn for your face to morph, a mix of surprise and relief, a faint heat brewing in your stomach," Well... I'd like you to treat it like a legitimate chase. I could be a deer, in a sense... something to bring home for dinner. You'd chase me, and I would do my best to fight back, run away...," your eyes wander over to the shotgun by the cabin door, eyes glazed from your impure thoughts," But I don't want you empty handed. I want... I'd like for you to bring the shotgun. Use it, even... as long as you don't actually try to kill me." Alastor's expression, you swore, was now the rawest it's been since you've first met him. His heart was on his sleeve: confusion, shock, delirium, and... some sort of desire. A hunger.

Alastor smoothly rises from the table, his footsteps almost echoing in the silence. He makes his way to his nightstand, fishing out something you couldn't see. When Alastor turns towards you, you hear a familiar clink, as his revolver shines in the warm light. He opens the chamber, showing to you that it is empty, before sealing it with a resolute spin. Your fists unclench, and you let out a breath that you hadn't realized you were holding.

"Dear, as lovely and authentic as it would be... I would hate to bring the shotgun. That tool is far too accurate and far too deadly, even in an inexperienced person's hands. A round so small can tear a hole wider than your skull, given the proper range..." When Alastor returned to the table, he sets the empty revolver there, your heart thumping at the implications. He slid it towards you, as if a peace offering," I wonder what may have caused this idea to fester... But it's one I'm most certainly intrigued by," he offers simply. You tried your best not to look away, his smile exposing just how fascinated he was with your proposal. His eyes were a dead giveaway: he was more than willing to carry this act out.

Your hand ghosts over the revolver, the wood of the grip much warmer than the cool metal of the barrel. Alastor clears his throat, calling your attention back to him," If I may, dearest, I also have a request..."

You feel your heart thudding loudly in your chest, the loud pulse making you deaf to the rest of the world.

"Which is...?" you attempt to counter smoothly, but the breathiness of your tone gives you away. Alastor's eyes squint, familiar with that lilt of yours. He relished seeing you like this: embarrassed, sheepish... But most of all, you felt an overwhelming desire to have him agree; have him take charge. His ego bloomed right under your nose... He wanted to see just how badly this desire had been burning inside of you.

"Do you recall the nightgown that you wore when we first embraced, love? The white little number with lace trim?" You nodded immediately, a heat rising in your face as you recalled your first night with your partner," Y-Yes... yes, I think I have it with me, actually."

Alastor moves over to your side of the table, kneeling down to your height. He grabs your chin, gently tilting your head to meet his eyes. You couldn't help the spark of desire that shot up your spine as a wicked smile stretches across Alastor's face," Good. I'd like to see it thoroughly ruined once I'm done with you."

You swore you had a stroke, your eyes wider than the dinner saucers that set the cozy, oak dinner table. You were brought back to reality as Alastor patted your cheek, practically singing when he spoke again.

"Now: let's eat. You'll need this to have your strength, dear~ The hunt starts this evening. Once dinner is finished, you'll have until I fully load the revolver to run. And that's when I'll come for you... understood?"

You had all but forgotten how to breathe, a stupefied nod his only reply as Alastor went back to the stove," Ohhh, almost forgot! We still have some bread from last night! I hope that's alright, dear~"

You were almost numb from the overwhelming sensations and emotions that coursed through your body. You were so excited and so nervous that you couldn't even think of eating. But Alastor had worked so hard to make you a fresh, homecooked meal... who were you to let it go cold? Despite yourself, you happily devoured the entire course, and were soon given seconds. Alastor grants you a coy smile, his expression saying what he kept silent: eat up. You're gonna need it.

---

Like the dutiful partner you were, you helped Alastor clean every dish and utensil used to prepare dinner. Ever the vixen, you even smeared some of the broth across his cheek, just to lick it off. The act made Alastor shudder, but he spared you, merely squeezing your hips and giving you a kiss. As for tonight... well, you wondered just how gentle he would be... if at all.

Once you had dried the last utensil, your ears perked up at the sound of a metallic clink. Your eyes widened, head whipping around to see Alastor opening the barrel to his revolver. He glances towards you, a neutral smile on his face," Oh! Sorry to startle you, dear. Just filling the chamber. 'Thought I heard something stalking outside... I might have to investigate it. You can never be to careful, these days."

You gasped, eyes dilating as you shook with anticipation. Now, now was the time.

You sprinted over to your suitcase, throwing it on the bed as you frantically searched for your nightgown. He was eager to start too, it seemed--

Click. First bullet loaded.

"I say, what a strange time of year...," Alastor rambled as he spun the glistening chamber, pushing up his glasses with the wrist of his other hand. The second bullet was clutched in his fingers, the rest scattered on the counter. You nearly shrieked as you frantically tear off your loungewear, exchanging it for the gown that Alastor requested. He would have thought the action was adorable and meek, if it weren't for his desire to fuck you stupid.

A bemused chuckle fills the air, dark and full of promise.

"What do you think is out there right now, love? A little rabbit, perhaps? With a fluffy white tail?"

Click. Second round.

You made your way hastily to the door as Alastor watched you, wiping the barrel of his revolver with the edge of his flannel. He was taking his time and making this spectacle: that you knew for sure. He seemed aloof, unbothered by your accelerated heartrate... but it agonized him to no end. This zesty little suggestion already had his mind reeling, possibilities of how he would claim you crossing over him every time he blinked.

"No, perhaps it's a deer? A doe, even? I hear it's about that time of year... mating season, that is." Your face grew hot at the notion, cursing yourself for not better preparing for this. You made sure to pull on your hiking shoes, tying the laces tightly. You prayed that they'd stay on to protect your feet.

Alastor hums with curiosity, blinking. Another image of you, trembling and moaning under his body, making his nethers pulse with interest.

"Ohh, maybe a bobcat! Something feisty... I wonder how it would taste?"

Click number three. Halfway through...

You turn around, chest already heaving as you made eye contact with Alastor. He saw you for the deranged, desperate animal that you were. His eyes matched your energy, an uncanny smile on his face. Alastor's pupils were mere pinpricks, the overwhelming expanse of amber and caramel brown nearly glowing.

"I don't know, baby... But whatever it is, I hope it runs fast," you grin to Alastor as he mirrors your expression, his tongue running across his pristine teeth.

"I'd hate to think of what would happen if you caught up to it."

With that, you were out of the door, unable to hear the rapid succession of bullets four, five, and six. Teasing be damned, he was making himself impatient. Alastor made a show of closing the weapon with a hard snap and spin, a satisfying weight settling into his hand. With the gun fully loaded, it just felt so... right. A fascination he gained from his father, unfortunately. Though he did appreciate the skills he learned from the sick bastard, that was the extent of his affection.

He'd have a good number of things to thank him for before the end of the night, as he slipped on his own pair of outdoor boots. When he stepped out onto the deck, he had caught a glimpse of you. That delicate little nightgown was fluttering and fleeting, catching the moonlight. It had to have been around 9 or 10 o'clock at night... A perfect time for your little chase to commence. Not to mention, the cool, crisp Fall air had made everything entirely better; not too hot, and not too cold. For all the weather that permeated in this southern state, Fall in Louisiana had been one of Alastor's favorites. It was his favorite namely for Open Season... and how convenient for him that you were added to the list of eligible, wild game...

He inhaled deeply through his nose, savoring the scent of evergreen and pine tickling his senses. He held his breath like this for a while, feeling his chest expand and burn from the denial of oxygen. Once he'd had enough, he exhaled heavily, a shudder running through his entire body. He let you have a decent head start. Now the chase could begin.

---

Your lungs burned from how swiftly you ran, feet carrying you further than you had ever pushed yourself. In that moment, you almost felt liberated, free… as if something had rolled off your chest. You aren't quite sure where this sense of euphoria came from, but you embraced it all the same, laughing breathlessly as your dress caught in stray branches and debris, your boots splashing into the wet, almost marshy forest floor. You breathed in through your nose, feeling a similar pull as Alastor to just take everything in… You were greeted with smells of wood and earth, though, in this part of the forest, you caught whiff of a water source nearby. As if a tether were around your waist, you felt called to it. Your running came to a steady, calm trot, your eyes trying to adjust to the darkness of the night.

You stop just by a clearing, a familiar bayou greeting you. You marveled at the scenery before you, scarcely lit up by the moonlight. You had almost forgotten about your little game with Alastor, brushing stray Spanish Moss aside as you stepped fully out into the open. You smile fondly, a memory crossing your mind:

You, frantically shaking Alastor's shoulders as you try to point out a doe and her darling, new fawn. But, in your desperation, the deer were scared away, frightened by your presence. You had been heartbroken, though your partner swore up and down that he saw them, and that even so: your enthusiasm was a much more charming sight.

You walked a few yards from the water's edge, not wanting to chance it; meeting a creature of the night face-to-face was not your idea of "fun"... unless it was Alastor. You were grateful, then, for your hiking boots, as they made navigating the wet earth beneath your feet much easier. However, your foot catches on your next step, causing you to stumble into a nearby tree. When catching yourself, you spy a delicately carved pattern: yours and Alastor's first initials. (You, later on, had added the heart that surrounded them). Initially, you hadn't wanted to deface a tree like this, but Alastor, ever the charmer, insisted that it would become a landmark for you; a way to tell where you were if you were ever lost...

Your hands traced the familiar carvings, the rivets scratching against your fingertips gently. You just felt your heart swell more, the thoughts of your softer moments making your mind fog. Even with someone hot on your tail, your focus waning. You began humming to yourself as you continued your restful stroll, running through moments in your memory that made you feel particularly cozy; safe.

Just when you had felt your safest, a loud SNAP of a tree twig sounded to your rear left. You froze in your tracks, turning feverishly towards the sound. Your once still, content heart was racing wildly, eyes as wide as the moon looming above you. You slowly turned your entire body to face the noise, making sure to keep your eyes focused on the direction you heard the snap. You start to walk backwards, making your way stealthily towards the tree line.

Most animals will attack you with your back turned… facing them will deter an assault, even if for a few moments, you thought… Just before you could disappear, having half a mind to sprint-- a sudden, deafening CRACK rang out, followed by the splintering of wood. You looked to your left again, as you witness the tree next to you receive a battle scar: a bullet wound.

RUN.

You bolted into the thick underbrush, doing your best to stay low to the ground as a set of steady, patient steps pursued you. Had you not had a good distance on him, your hunter's pace would have been undiscernible from your own. It thrilled you; it horrified you. You knew that Alastor had a knack for hunting, and had you known he was THIS committed, you would have asked for a better head start.

A startling thought plagued your mind as you had a moment of clarity, your face paling. You ASSUMED this was Alastor… what if it wasn't? What if this was a wild animal, who had its sights on you? What if it was another marksman, and you were trespassing on their property? The thought made your throat run dry, the instinct to become small and hide winning over your other senses.

You nearly shrieked as a second bullet wizzes past you, less than a yard away, before it strikes the tree to your right. To your horror: it was at eye level. Had this been a stranger… they were going for the kill.

You crouch all the way down to the forest floor, searching frantically until you spy an hollowed-out tree log. You slink your way over, searching for any residents or critters, before diving headfirst into the tree husk. You laid on your back, bringing your legs in as far as they could go. You winced as your knees scrapped against the dead wood. Unable to calm down, you hastily cover your mouth with both hands. You were doing your absolute best to calm your breathing. Think, now, think… you had to think your way out of this mess.

The steady beat of the hunter's footsteps slowed, until they stop entirely. You resisted the urge to sigh in relief, still unsure if you were safe or not. Eventually, you couldn't hear a thing over the deafening stillness, the normal noises of the woods silenced by your escapade. Much like you, other creatures seemed to wait with bated breath. Maybe they were terrified of the hunter… maybe they were terrified of you.

You twitch as you hear the familiar clink of metal, a revolver's spinning wheelhouse catching your ear. You weren't out of the woods yet… this could still be another person. This could very well be a real hunt… A sharp inhale sounds just a few yards away. You nearly jumped out of your skin, eyes slamming shut. When did that hunter get closer!? Had you misjudged how far away you were from him?!

"Only 4 more bullets, Little Cottontail… let's see if you can evade them all~"

Relief and terror washed over you simultaneously: Alastor. Your body was paralyzed with conflicting emotions, breath picking up as you hear footsteps stirring closer. You could feel the panic rising in your face, blood pressure raging; but you can also feel the traitorous, hazy heat that engulfed your core. Either way, Alastor had you completely on edge, your fragile mind was on the verge of caving in either way. Should you run away, or run to him? That was your conflict…

Knock knock

Your eyes fly open as you dare to look between your bent legs, spying a pair of steely, hungry brown eyes. Pupils mere pinpricks, the whites of his eyes were nearly glowing under the light of the moon.

"There's that sweet, little rabbit!"

You shrieked as you were pulled out of the log, knees and back scrapping against the wood of your shelter. When you met solid earth, you kicked and fought, eyes wide and animalistic. Your body still fell into conflict; you wanted this to be a real chase: FIGHT BACK. Alastor was quick to avoid your kicks, straddling your hips as he tried to restrain your flailing arms. Never did you make contact, but Alastor was cautious to avoid any accidental hits, all the same.

"Oh dear, was I wrong after all? Am I really still chasing a scared, feral little rabbit~? Or something bigger…" Alastor teased, managing to seize one of your hands. It was immediately pinned above your head as you thrashed, grunting and groaning in your efforts to escape. Alastor pressed further into you, eliciting a tight -lipped moan as you felt an unmistakable hardness rub against your core. He was enjoying this much more than his face allowed him to show…

"Be a good little pet, won't you? Won't you let me take you back to my cabin? I promise I'll make this quick and painless~"

You thrashed your head back and forth. You didn't want this to be quick. You didn't WANT it to be painless. You wanted more. MORE of this.

In a daring fit of heightened hormones and rushed decision making, a loud SLAP filled the air. You panted as your hand stung, Alastor's face now jerked to the left, looking away. A flushed, red print was painted across his handsome face, his eyes wide with disbelief. He sat there like this for a few moments, his grip on your hand all but gone. You took this opportunity to slink out from under him, using his dumbfounded expression as a gauge. Truly, how long did you have until he was grounded?

Sadly, it wasn't long, a slender hand cupping the offending, fading mark. You looked down as you saw something move, your mouth watering: his cock was even harder than before, twitching from the sudden outburst. A shaky, broken sigh left Alastor's trembling lips as he slowly looked back towards you. A deep dusty rose flooded his cheeks as he chuckled, his voice full of a wicked venom. His free hand fished for his revolver, the barrel now pointing straight at you.

"Alright, then… no more playing nice."

You immediately vaulted out of the way as a third shot rang out, impacting the earth you had just been sprawled upon. Alastor elegantly got to his feet, like a regal vampire exiting his coffin. He pressed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, pupils wide with desire as he watched you bob and weave into the trees.

"Three more to go," he growled, his grin widening madly as he broke out into a frenzied sprint.

The panic was steadily rising, as did your burning desire. You realized, with horror, that Alastor's pace nearly went in double time, and he was steadily gaining on you. And so, you figured if you were truly to get caught, it might as well be a trap for him too--

BANG

Shot number four rang out, a terror-filled scream igniting the night; this shot was less than a foot from your trembling, straining right leg. You muscles were scorched from the effort you put yourself in, core fully engaged as you tried to focus on breathing. You were unsuccessful, already far too overworked and overheated. You came to the harsh realization that you couldn't run much longer.

You started charting your course carefully, taking dips and turns in hopes to throw Alastor off of your trail… but ever the clever man, he never lost sight of you. And, despite your best efforts, he was nearly on top of your imaginary cottontail. You dared to look behind you, searching for the madman coming for you, only to see he was no where in sight. Your pace slowed down, confused as his footsteps cease. You came to a dead stop, spinning around wildly to find any sign of your darling partner. Your mouth ran dry as you panted, legs nearly giving out from under you. As you took in your surroundings, you feared that you may be lost… truly, genuinely lost.

"A-Al… Alastor? Baby...?" you rasp between pants, a hand coming up to your heaving chest. You take a few, cautious steps back towards the direction you came from, squinting harshly. Your eyes still had not adjusted to the low visibility of the dank, dark forest.

"A-Al… AL?!" you call desperately, scared that you may have lost him, or worse: maybe he was injured... You go to take off again, before a hand snakes around your throat. You couldn't scream as the hand squeezes your pulse, a cold, metallic object pressed into your lower back. Your fear transformed into relief, which transformed into desire, all within a span of few seconds. Familiar, heated lips brushed against the shell of your ear. Alastor's breath was heavy on your skin.

"I guess I didn't need all of my rounds, after all." Alastor nearly purred, despite his labored breathing. His warm breath followed his lips as they came to the junction of your jaw and neck, three fingers unfurling from your pulse. This left him just enough room to litter the bared skin of your neck with short, open mouthed kisses, your eyes fluttering closed. Even with only two fingers squeezing your throat, you still felt lightheaded, unable to escape. You shuddered under his grasp, your body instantly surrendering to his desire. It was official: the chase was officially over. Alastor knew that the moment you sighed into his touch.

"Good girl~"

In a rapid succession, you were grabbed and hauled over Alastor's wide shoulder, his free hand tucking his revolver away. Your hands flew down to grope and run over Alastor's body, your lungs still exhausted from the strife of running away. Alastor allowed your hands to explore, appearing unphased as he carried you out of the woods. He resisted every fiber in his being to not bend you over and fuck you into the damp earth; a filthy act for a filthy-minded girl like you. But, he had at least some modicum of class… he needed to make this last; he would ensure this was something you wouldn't soon forget.

-- You felt embarrassed by how rapidly your heart beat, how frantically you were tugging at Alastor's flannel, but when your eyes looked up to a different building, your heart nearly stopped. You were walking toward 'the shack', Alastor called it… THIS was where he took all of his wild game after hunting them down. Seeing your unease, he slapped you on the ass, hoping to chase away your nerves," Don't worry, darling… I told you I would be gentle~"

His words contradicted his actions as you were practically thrown into the shed, sprawled out onto the floor. Your eyes tried taking in your surroundings, but it was far too dark to see. You yelped as both of your hands were seized and tied with a coarse jute rope, the fibers pricking your wrists. When you felt Alastor leave you, your legs came together, heat still pooling in your lower abdomen," S-Sooo, Mr. Huntsman~ You've caught me~ What do you plan to d--" Your questioning was cut short as you were suddenly jerked onto your knees, your hands now taunt over your head. A few more tugs on your rope, and you were standing upright, struggling to balance on the balls of your feet. You wobbled as you heard shuffling behind you, rope being fastened, and the clink of Alastor's revolver laying on a flat surface.

Alastor left you in suspense like this for a few moments, as he brought his hands together with a satisfied hum. The crisp sound made you jump as if it were gunfire, your cunt nearly drooling as you strained to look for Alastor in the pitch.

"Now then… 'can't see very well like this, can we?"

A lantern was lit just in front of your face, startling you. You realized that Alastor had all but held his breath to get closer to you, those same, silent footsteps deceiving you again. You couldn't find the words to speak, eyes wide with disbelief and desire as you stared back at Alastor's shit eating grin.

"Ahhh, yes… Finally managed to capture you, you tricky thing~," he mused as he flicked the tip of your nose. He chuckled when you wiggled it back and forth and recoiled, almost mimicking the animal he claimed you to be. "No, I don't think you're privy to know what I plan to do to you, with words… But, I can certainly show you." He seized your cheeks roughly with one hand, puckering your lips as he closed the distance between your bodies," But you might enjoy that too, wouldn't you?" Alastor's other hand ran dangerously up your trembling thigh, his face cool and collected as you were practically panting under his touch.

"P-Please…"

Alastor sends you a questioning look, before grinning maliciously," I didn't realize animals could speak, let alone have permission to." A harsh grip on your thigh anchored you to Alastor's pelvis, and you felt the familiar, hardened length on your core. You whined, obeying in silence as Alastor ground against you. His mouth fell open as he pressed his hips again, eager to seek some friction.

"You'd like me to use you, wouldn't you…? Breed this body like a deranged rabbit while you're helpless, defenseless under my touch…" Your mouth watered at the idea, your eyes fluttering as his hand shifted to palm your ass. His smirk was very telling, both hands moving to spread and palm your backside properly. His touch was slow and sensual on your trembling, supple body.

"Or maybe I should lay my claim here… Uncharted wilderness is quite thrilling to explore, don't you think?" His breath was so low it rattled his own ribcage. Without warning, a groan was torn from both of your throats as you bucked into Alastor's hips. Your eagerness was not unwelcomed...

Alastor was rewarded with another broken, wanton moan for his scandalous ideas and his wandering hands. He realized, in that moment, he was telling you exactly what he wanted to do to you. And, in that same moment, he decided that he didn't fucking care.

"Or maybe… maybe I can't wait--" Alastor starts to drag his lips down your form, kissing down your neck, then the valley of your breasts, then your abdominals… before landing at the hem of your still-concealed underwear. "I'm quite parched, love… Surely you won't mind if I quench my thirst, first?" Alastor's hands snake up your thighs as your nightgown is pushed up, revealing his current target: your clothed loins. His pupils shrink as he inhales, almost nuzzling into your inviting cunt. You whine weakly when he gazes up to you with mesmerized eyes; he was as bent out of shape as you were, and he was struggling to keep it concealed… Was he really going to enjoy himself, or sink his teeth in? Your heart stuttered at either possibility.

You nodded down to Alastor, wobbling as you spread your legs as far as you could. Your wrists were reminded of their predicament as you tried to move, thrashing in your restraints. You didn't speak, a firm nod your answer and consent. As Alastor kissed your awaiting heat, he shifted your legs onto his shoulders, alleviating the pressure on your feet. Had you not been so aroused, you would be heavily flustered by this gesture: a kindness yet something so brazen, even for your sweet beau.

He squeezed the meat of your thighs, humming as he licked a warm, wet stripe between your covered lips, the fabric of your panties already drenched with your arousal. You swore you saw his eyelids flutter as he sighed against you, diving in more earnestly. You wailed with frustration, unable to feel the full effect of his tongue just yet. You cared very little, however, as some attention was better than none. Your struggled against your restraints once more, warning hands digging into your thighs. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it simmered into a moan with each wave of pleasure. You wanted to scream as Alastor continued to tease you, unable to regulate your breathing or your moans.

He wasn't kidding; he wanted to eat you out like a man starved, his tongue dancing along your drenched panties wildly. He left no surface unmarked by his sinful, silver tongue. Alastor practically moaned around your sensitive bud, your mind reeling at the sensation as your hips bucked subconsciously. Whether it was because he was enjoying himself, or strictly to stimulate your clit, you weren't sure… but that little noise sent jolts of electricity right to your core.

Despite this: you were rewarded with a nip to your pearl, a whiney, breathy moan your weak rebuttal. You secretly hoped he would tear you apart, just to put you back together and break you again.

Your mind refocused as you felt your underwear being moved to the side, a bold, eager tongue now attending to your bare, puffy folds. You shrieked his name, whimpering from the stimulation. His tongue worked dexterously, licking and coddling every curve, dip, and crevice. Alastor's movements were now raw and unfiltered, MUCH to your delight.

Your legs caged his head, squeezing him closer to you as you felt your orgasm forming at an alarming rate. You couldn't help but mewl, head falling forward and limp as Alastor buried his face into your mound. His straight, rigid nose prodded your clit as he drove his tongue into your aching entrance, your taste and scent engulfing his thoughts. You let out a long, satisfied moan as he began to pump his long tongue in and out of you, working both his spit and your arousal in and out. The slick skin-on-skin squelching did nothing to calm the fire behind your eyes, toes popping with how violently they curled. Alastor continued his brutal pace, unable to get enough of your taste, scent, and special, little cries that were made just for him.

"F-fuhhh~ F-Fahhh--! Ahh! A-Al!" you cried, wanting desperately to use your words; you tried to give him a warning. You were near your climax, tears pricking your half-lidded eyes. You heard Alastor grunt into you, hands rubbing and kneading your thighs, as if asking you to crush his head more. You obliged, bucking into his mouth as your release started to approach. He had his mouth full, no doubt! Even so: you swore you heard Alastor moan and whisper into your folds hastily, suckling and swirling your clit to make you cum.

"F-Fuck-- Oh fuck, cum for me, then--"

Your body spasmed, head tossing back sharply,"F-Fuck, Al-- Al!!! Fuck, cumming--"

The dizzying affect swam over you swiftly, a scream that could be mistaken for pain filling the tiny shack you were in. The force and sudden rise in pleasure was overwhelming, almost maddening as Alastor wound you back down. You were gently set back onto your feet, legs shaking... All the while, his tongue never stopped, making you whine from overstimulation.

"A-Al… please, that's-- G-God! You can stop now-- Ahh~" You would have doubled over if your hands weren't restrained, your tongue lolling out from between your lips. The delightful slurping from below didn't cease, and seemed to become even more feverish. Alastor smiled up at you, parting for just a moment before licking his slick-covered lips.

" Am I not allowed to have seconds, dear?"

Your face seemed to catch on fire as you try to formulate a reply. However, Alastor's mouth knocked it out of you, head vacant as he continues to ravage you. He suckled on your abused clit, hands holding your hips in place as you tried to squirm away from his devious touch.

"F-Fuck! F-Fuck, Al, please--!!! T-Too much-- Ahhn-- T-Too much!!" you cried, your wrists chaffed against the rope that bound you.

Alastor did not relent, instead pressing you further into his face as he feasted upon you. His slurping and gulping nearly doubled with a grotesque volume, his eyes wide and watching you. You trembled under his intense gaze, rushing towards a very intense, unnecessary second orgasm.

"F-Fuck-- Alastor!! A-Al! Fuck, don't--" you whined, tears streaming down your face as the searing heat of the new orgasm washed over you," Pl-Please-- FUCK--"

Another shriek bounced off the walls as a hasty, overwhelming feeling flooded your loins. You winced with embarrassment as you felt a sudden gush of warmth coat your sex and thighs. Of course, Alastor was on the receiving end, but didn't seem to mind, his tongue only slowing when you were practically sobbing into the afterglow. Your legs completely gave out on you, wincing as your arms held your entire body aloft," F-Fuck… Fuuuuckkk…" you whined as your head spun, your eyes blurry from the pleased, hot tears that stained your face. A sweet, warm hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to look Alastor's way.

"An absolutely breathtaking meal, darling…," Alastor panted, his eyes warm but still full of a lusty haze," Please… if you'll have me, I simply can't stop there."

When you gave him a weak but sure nod, Alastor nearly bolted to the secured rope, allowing you to descend to your knees. The warm wooden floor dug into your legs as you waited. Alastor was quick to resecure the rope before looping back to you. " If I were to ravage your pussy now, I'm afraid this little show might end early… So for both our sakes…" Alastor swiftly freed his aching cock, a hand lazily pumping his flushed member. Despite his aversion to touching himself, he sighed into the relief his hand provided.

"Won't you please… allow me to use your sweet lips instead, pet?"

How could you say no, with his words tumbling out sweetly?

With a speed that made Alastor dizzy, you beckoned him to you, tongue first. He allowed you to kiss the head of his flushed cock, eyes drinking in your expressions and your body. He had half a mind to cut the rope holding you hostage, but decided against it when you took him into your warm mouth. Alastor hastily covered his lips, stifling a groan as his other hand fisted your hair. You didn't mind, hollowing your cheeks as you took as much of him in as you could. His public hair tickled the very tip of your nose, his musk invading your senses. Had his mind been clearer, Alastor would've worried about your ability to breathe... but he had to focus on not throat fucking you first.

"Shit-- so warm--," Alastor groaned, his voice still muffled. Despite this, his words reached your perked ears, and causing your wet entrance to flutter around nothing. Alastor flinched, his hips spasming as you took him down to his base. He was jammed far into your throat, your eyes rolling back as you tried to relax around his engorged member. A choked noise and a sputter erupted around his cock, a pleased moan eagerly following. As much as Alastor was enjoying himself, you would be lying if you said choking on Alastor's cock wasn't fun for you.

"Fuck, don't hurt yourself, darling-- I don't need-- FUCK--" The moment you started to bob your head, all words and worries flew out the window, the hand in your hair beginning to guide your descent. Alastor felt like he was being incinerated, his body electrified by your wriggling tongue and tight mouth. His restraint was beginning to wane, hair fanning across his sweat-slicked forehead," Fuck, you take this so well-- Take ME so well--"

Alastor panted, hardly able to keep his eyes open as you whined around him. His grip in your hair grew harsher, his hips beginning to stir.

"So malleable, so eager-- Good God--" Alastor's head fell forward as you created a delicious, tight suction around his dick. The sensation nearly drove him to bellowing, your name tumbling clumsily from his parched lips. He stared at the point where his cock disappeared into your mouth, then up to your teary eyes. Fresh tears spilled over your flushed cheeks, his words causing a shiver to run up your spine. Alastor, completely enthralled, felt his cock throb at the sight of your desperation, gritting his teeth," FUCK-- Damn it all--!"

Straining to reach out of sight, his hand ends up landing on a carving knife. Once he could grip it properly, he hastily swings above you. You flinch for a moment, before your arms relax and fall to your sides. You realized he cut you loose, but you had no time to dabble on the thought. Alastor's cock slid out of your mouth, your jaw setting into a neutral, open shape. Alastor started to stroke himself hastily, using his other hand to gesture in a circle," Turn around-- on all fours. NOW."

You didn't hesitate when that dark, brisk command was thrown your way, clambering like a newborn deer. You turn to look back at him, wagging your hind in a teasing way," Don't want to waste a drop, huh?" you teased, a coy smile on your face. Alastor laughed, breathy and high, as he fell to his knees. He easily towered over you as he aligned himself to your dribbling, plush entrance," You know me too well, love."

The plunge of his cock nearly knocked you onto your stomach, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. To your pleasant surprise, Alastor had bottomed out inside of you. There was a slight discomfort from the sudden intrusion (one that wasn't unwelcome) as a strong arm wrapped around your torso.

" B-Bear with me. I'll fill you up soon, dear--"

You nearly cried as Alastor began to move, hips already hammering into your most intimate place at an animalistic rate. You were truly fucking like rabbits, unable to do anything but chase your own desires. Alastor buried his face into your neck, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his grunts. You were unable to stifle your own, the sounds of your ecstasy bouncing around the room. The steady, rhythmic squelching of your privates were almost drowned out by the steady plap, plap, plap against your ass with every brutish press. You were getting close... And as Alastor's voice rose with yours, you realized he couldn't be fa behind. You allowed yourself to fall forward, cheek smashed against the grain of the floorboards as you arched your back," F-Fuck… fuck me, Alastor-- Hah-- Oh god, please--" Your eyes slammed shut as Alastor's pace only increased, his hips angling in a way that stroked your g-shot with every press.

"Yes, love-- fuck yes, you want this? Harder? Faster? Fuck--" He accented your mental demands with more energy, a hand cupping your bouncing, right breast as the other caressed your stuffed pussy. He sought your puffy pearl at the apex of your cunt, and drew quick, deliberate circles into it.

" Fuck, fuck! I need you to cum-- Want you to cum--," Alastor begged, his breath hot and heavy in your ear," O-One more time, please-- then I'll make sure to fuck my-- Oh fuck! I'll fuck you full of my cum--"

Your mouth hung open, drool pooling under your cheek as you felt your orgasm building for the third time that night, your hands clawing into the wooden floor," F-Fahh-- ahh! Yes!!! Fuck me, shit-- fuck me stupid, Al!!!" you wailed, eyes flying open as he pinched your clit. You clamped resolutely around his cock, your body locking up-- Yes, yes, just a few more thrusts--

"FUCK!!!"

You came with a wail and a tremor, your lungs screaming for air as it was fucked right out of you. Alastor, watching and feeling your body unravel under him, was unable to last any longer. He pressed his forehead into your shoulder, humping once, twice, thrice until he delivered a deep, devastating thrust. Your name became a debauched mantra as you milked his cock, spurts of hot, white seed painting your core. You trembled as you felt it being fucked into you, Alastor sighing into your shoulder.

"Sh-Shit… Shit, I love you. God, I fucking love you--" Alastor cursed into your shoulder, his hips stirring again," I-I can't stop-- fuck, you keep sucking me back in--"

You whined as Alastor started to rut into you again, his hardened length not wavering in the slightest. Like an animal in heat, he proceeded to fuck you through his own climax, eager to fill you up again," F-Fuck, I'm sorry-- You feel too good. Fuck, this is--"

You did your best to look behind you, lips clumsily kissing his temple, his forehead-- whatever you could reach," H-Hahn… hah, it's okay! Pl-Please, use me… F-Fuck, you can use me again! I wanna feel you cum in me again, Al!"

Alastor needed little convincing, his overstimulation outweighed by his desire. The cries that dripped from your mouth were sweeter than the honey and slick between your legs," G-God-- God, mon amour-- FUCK!"

You were smiling deliriously as Alastor used your sensitive cunt to chase another high, head foggy and vision blurry. You could do nothing but whine and shake as you were not only fucked through your orgasm, but felt your loins boil with an impending, new release. You couldn't say a word as each thrust pushed a scream from your diaphragm, Alastor's own throes of pleasure mirroring yours. The both of you made eye contact, and for the first time in a long time you saw… Alastor wasn't smiling?

Alastor's brow was knit together, face hard and yet so flushed as his mouth hung open in a wide, desperate "O". You felt your walls flutter around Alastor, the sight almost as beautiful as his trademark smile. Hastily, Alastor pulled you up by your throat, squeezing as you were forced to face away… The growl that was rumbled into your ear did little to slow down your peak.

The smile that danced across your face was unmatched; you had gotten Alastor to completely melt into you, unable to keep his 'armor' on. He was drunk off of your body, and he was unable to hide just how much he wanted both of you to cum. You mentally cheered, unable to shake the feeling of victory as that tension in your belly snapped. You unleash a broken, primal scream as Alastor fills your womb with another load, his semen spilling out from your writhing cunt. Completely out of breath, both of your collapse to the floor. You were left gasping and wheezing as Alastor sunk into you deeper, fully sheathed and pressing into your cervix. The sensation just made you whimper into your afterglow, lips twitching as you both wound back down…

You both lay on the floor like this for a few moments-- hell, maybe for an hour-- trying to regain your bearings. Trembling hands caressed your body, while your own reached up to pet and stroke at soft, chestnut brown hair. A tired chuckle fills your ears as Alastor closes his eyes, a content sigh rolling off his chest.

"You never fail to amaze me. And, of course… you never fail to make me cum either," Alastor admits, a sheepish blush creeping across his face. You nod, your laughter just as meek," Y-Yeah… fuck, you… you did all the work," you quipped, feeling Alastor shake his head. He kissed at your shoulders, trailing them up your neck and to your heated cheeks.

"Darling, if anything deserves the praise, it would be your nethers… She put on quite a show." You lightly elbowed him in the ribs, the both of you laughing like teenagers," Or maybe your brain… for coming up with a delicious roleplaying scenario?"

You hum for a moment to contemplate, before sighing," Fair enough… I'll take that," you profess, looking up and back towards your exhausted partner," Alastor?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"Thank you again, for all of this... and-- sorry about slapping you earlier," you chuckle, your face burning under Alastor's sweet gaze. He seemed entirely unbothered, shrugging," Ahh, nothing but a passionate act in the heat of the moment. Think nothing of it-- as long as you don't mind me slapping this again~" You squeaked as your ass received a playful tap, like a friendly, sportsman’s slap of approval.

"Good job~"

You rolled underneath Alastor, his cock finally freed when you sprawled out onto your back. You invited him to lay his head on your chest, which he gladly accepted. You could feel the tension in his body dissipate the moment he laid down, his eyes fluttering closed. You brushed the hair away from his face, giggling at the adorable sight of your dopey, sleepy lover.

"Alastor... don't fall asleep on me, now. We still need to get back to the cabin." Alastor groaned, brow furrowing. Stubborn as a bull, he nuzzled into your chest face-first, sighing as your heartbeat lulled him," Just a few more minutes, dear… I don't believe either of us could stand, even if we wanted to."

You hummed, patting Alastor on the head as you conceded," Touché… But I blame you for that."

"And not our heated chase, dearest?"

You snort as you try not to laugh, belly aching from holding back," Fuck, that's fair... Maybe we can play a little closer to home next time?" You smile down at your partner as he adjusts himself. Finally, he came up for air as his chin settled between your breasts, his eyelids still heavy from exhaustion.

"Oh sweetheart, where would the fun be in that? You know I love a good chase~"

He moved further up, caging your body with his as he gave you a tender, quick kiss," You can run, hide, do whatever you like... as long as we both have fun, that's all that matters– our legs be damned..." You can't help but nod and laugh, pushing Alastor back into your bosom. Your sleepy beau can't help but hum in approval, your chest a warm, welcoming pillow.

"You're right... that's all that matters. But really, I-- I love you, Alastor. I can’t help but thank you again. For all of this…" Your partner stills for a moment, a dark, intense flush coming across his face and neck. You can't help but laugh as he hides his face into your chest again, sighing dramatically," I love you too, mon ange... For now, I'll settle for saying it, as I'm far too tired to show you again right now..."

You chuckle as you crane your neck down, kissing his crown before letting your head thunk against the floor," You already show me more than enough, baby... More than you know."

The silence is calming, even comfortable as the two of you find yourselves drifting off to sleep. Thankfully, the autumn heat and the union of your bodies was more than enough to keep you warm. Both of you allowed yourselves just one, brief nap while the crickets and cicadas harmonized outside the window... A perfect, peaceful conclusion to a passionate, relentless hunt.

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #human!alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x oc #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel imagine #human!alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #female reader #alastor x female reader #GOD THIS TOOK TOO LONG HAHAHAHA #ieatcocoa I hope this is what you wanted and like #I get so nervous sometimes dhoudhodhdoidjd #but I wanted to keep this a surprise for you #hdohsosihsisoisjsvdiodius #IF ITS NOT YOUR BIRTHDAY IT IS NOW

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astermath · 7 months ago

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hiya! i’m a really big fan of your stranger things work and I was wondering, if youre comfortable of course, a steve x reader period imagine where reader tried to hide their period from Steve, but he finds out and is super fluffy and sweet about it? thank you!

HAHAH wow i have let this ask stew in my inbox since last year thats CRAZY im so sorry my dear,, i was going through old asks and i rlly like this prompt actually so here u go, i hope u enjoy!!!!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, obv mentions of periods / menstruation, reader is referred to as female, steve being dense at first lol, regular sized font below!

wc: 1.4K

notes: while the reader in this fic is female, i am well aware not everyone who has a period is a girl, and not everyone who's a girl has a period!

Steve is one attentive boyfriend.

It’s the early stages of your relationship, the golden era, the honeymoon phase. And while you’re a still a bit nervous about it all, you couldn’t be happier, because he does it all right.

He knows your favourite snacks, what music you like, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He’s starting to figure out your ins and outs, and it’s almost crazy how quickly he’s catching on. You have no reason to feel judged by him at any point, he truly is comfort poured into the shape of a person.

So then why are you staring at your phone right now, struggling to dial his number and just tell him why you can’t make it to your date?

It’s not usually this bad, at least it hadn’t been for a while, so why now, of all moments, must you be forsaken to be terrorised by your period?

You bite your lip, laying flat onto your bed, hand over your lower stomach. It's right where the pain is just gnawing at you, just like the guilt is. But you know you’d feel even guiltier if you just stood him up, he doesn’t deserve that. You sit up, a tad slowly to save yourself from another cramp, and swallow your nerves for now.

“I’ll just… Tell him I’m sick. Yeah… Yeah I can do that.” You think to yourself.

The combination of his number had started to feel natural to your fingers now, unlike how anxiously you pressed the buttons the first time, triple checking before finally pressing call. You're triple checking again now, more so because you're not sure you can handle hearing the defeat in his voice when you tell him you can't make it.

The phone barely gets a moment to ring before he picks it up, and his all too familiar sweet voice comes through the device.

"Hey babe, everything okay over there?"

You pause a moment before replying. "How did you know it was me calling?"

"Lover's intuition." He chuckles, and it makes your heart flutter. It's not fair how easy it is for him to do that to you, but you enjoy it nonetheless. "So, what's going on?"

"I, uh..." God, getting the words out is like pulling teeth. But you'd rather die than let him think you just got cold feet about your movie date. "I'm really not feeling too well right now, Steve... I'm-- I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to cancel for tonight." Your eyes are welling up with tears before he even gets a chance to reply, just imagining his pretty face losing its bright expression when hearing your unfortunate news.

"Oh," damnit, he does sound sad, "that's okay, uhm... Is there anything I can do? What kinda sick is it?"

Shit, he's gonna make you say it, isn't he? You know Steve is a mature guy, he knows about periods, knows how they work, but you've been told to suck it up and get on with it before... A part of you is still disappointed that you just can't.

"U-Uhm... It's more like, a stomach thing, I guess?" It's the best way you can put it for now, hoping it'll put his worries to rest.

"Okay, I see..." You can nearly hear him thinking, the subtle noise of bags being moved and a fridge being opened coming through the phone. "Uh, how aboouuut... I come over to yours, and we just watch a movie at home? I still got a couple of tapes we haven't gotten to, and I can bring some light snacks that won't upset your stomach too much."

The thought of Steve caring for you while you're sick sends a warm feeling through your entire body. God, how does he just keep getting better? But you can't lie to him, right? It's not like you're really sick, unless you count the curse of menstruation as a symptom.

Before you get a chance to explain, he's talking again, and by the ruckus in the background you can only guess he's rushing to grab all his stuff. "I'll be heading out in a bit, I'll stop by the corner store too, stay put for me alright? See ya in a bit!"

You're sure he didn't realize he wasn't letting you talk, but frankly, you probably couldn't even come up with a response on time anyways. Right now, you just have to worry about looking somewhat presentable, and maybe figure out a way to tell him you're not actually sick.

By the time you've brushed your hair and brushed some mascara onto your lashes, you're already hearing the doorbell. You just manage to pull a fresh shirt over your head, before stumbling down the stairs and stopping in front of the door. With a deep, loaded, sigh you open it, to reveal your boyfriend.

Hair messed up, plastic bag in hand, jacket haphazardly thrown on. He clearly rushed to be here, still panting a little, but in your eyes, he's the image of your guardian angel, your saviour in need.

Before either of you know it, you're crying again, your freshly applied mascara now leaving thin black streaks over your cheeks. Your hands go up to cover your face, embarrassed, not even sure why you're sobbing all of a sudden. The feelings just hit you like a freight train, rocking you before you even have a time to rationalize.

Steve's expression falters, the bag he had in hand dropping to the floor in an instant, stepping in closer so he can carefully wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest. Not too tight, he doesn't want to startle you. He's a bit distraught; he's really only seen you cry at a sad movie scene before, so he's a bit unsure as to what's caught you to be so upset right now.

"I-I'm sorry..." you manage to mutter through your incoherent sobs and sniffs, effectively ruining the front of his shirt in the process.

"Hey, hey..." His big hands go up to your face, gently cupping your wettened cheeks as he looks into your teary eyes. Hell, the image of you is almost enough to make him break too. "What're you sorry for? You can't help it that you're sick, right?"

The reminder of your lie makes you want to break eye contact in shame, but it's hard to force yourself to lose sight of that soft, caring gaze of his.

"I," sniff, "I lied, I'm so sorry Steve, I-- I'm not sick, I just... I have..."

He watches you expectedly, not upset, just curious. You'd surely have your reasons if whatever caused you to cancel is making you this upset.

"I'm... I'm just on my period and it-- it hurts really bad, it's not even usually this bad, and I felt like I was overreacting and I feel so bad and--" Your ramble gets cut short by his chuckle, the same one that nearly caused you to melt over the phone earlier.

"W-Wha... Why are you laughing?" You're not sure if you should be happy or worried, you're already experiencing so much at once, it's hard to pick one emotion to feel.

"Nothing, it's just, well," he picks up the bag he dropped, opening it slightly to show the bars of chocolate, candy and your favorite chips inside. "I had a feeling."

The sight of it makes you snap out of your state of distress, and you can’t help but crack a smile through your tears. “Seriously? How?”

He shrugs, a sheepish smile adorning his face. “I told you, lover’s intuition.” He pulls you back to him and kisses your head. “There’s another bag in the car with chicken soup in case I was wrong.”

You both laugh, just hugging on your doorstep for a moment. You have to let it sink in, that maybe Steve just is that sweet and considerate of a guy.

“D’you wanna go inside, or does standing outside help with cramps?” He pulls back a little, and you fight the urge to poke him in the ribs for his sarcasm. You love it either way.

“Yeah, let’s go inside. We can watch When Harry Met Sally and I can cry my eyes out again. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

#tysm for the ask!#stevemath #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington writing #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington comfort #serpentwithatardis #aster replies

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killerlookz · 5 months ago

Text

She Makes Dirty Words Sound Pretty | Joost Klein

description: joost klein x f! reader You and Joost manage to find a moment of intimacy over the phone amidst a time of hardship in your relationship. (very much based on of this song <33 so lyrics are scattered throughout!)

content 18+ NSFW, MDNI- phone sex, mutual masturbation, relationship issues, angst/comfort, lots of comfort (if you catch my drift), this fic contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable, and please block the rpf tag

word count: 2425

I'm only trying to work this out / So if you call me at all don't tell me that I'm ordinary / because I won't be passing you, please don't leave

Your stomach churns at the sound of your phone buzzing, over the last week you had associated the sound of your phone buzzing with nothing but tears and heartache.

You roll over, letting the thick comforter that covers you slip down your shoulders as you reach for your phone from the nightstand. Just as you expected. An anxious hand hesitates to pick up the phone, not in the mood to engage in conversation with who you were sure within the coming days would be your ex-boyfriend.

A sharp pang vibrates throughout your chest looking at the screen that shines at you.

Joost <3

Rather hurtfully paired with a picture of the two of you together, his arms wrapped around you, lips pressed against your cheek in a soft kiss.

You roll your eyes, he was going to keep calling if you didn't pick up. You huff, giving in, ripping your phone from where it sat next to your bed. Reluctantly you answer, your chest tightening waiting to hear the voice on the other end.

"Y/n?" The trepidation in Joost's voice was apparent, "Are you there, schatje?" The inclusion of the pet name made you wince, sounding all too sweet for your displeasure with him at the moment. Usually, you'd revel in his compliments and sweet nothings- but not now, you couldn't.

Things had been unusually hard lately, only exacerbated by the fact that Joost had been away on tour. It seemed like all the two of you had done in the last few weeks was fight. Usually about petty, little things- things that didn't even really matter but in the moment they seemed like everything. Half the time you couldn't even remember what the arguments were about, all that remained were bitter feelings and tear stains that lingered on your cheeks.

It had all culminated last night- a screaming match unparalleled to any other petty argument the two of you shared in recent weeks. You knew deep down that neither of you had meant any of the horrible, venom-dripped words you had spit at each other. But right now it felt impossible to ever forgive, much less forget.

"I'm here." You respond, short, monotone- trying not to give too much away about how you were feeling.

"Oh, y/n," He breathes, "I've been worried, I've been trying to talk to you since last night."

"I saw." You answer, just as short and uninterested as your last statement. Joost had been blowing up your phone for the last 24 hours- so terribly you had considered blocking his number at least for a little while.

"I know you're mad at me, y/n, but I still worry about you, you can't just ignore me like that." His voice is firm like he's scolding you- but you can sense a pain behind your voice, and if you hadn't been so fed up at the moment, you'd almost feel sorry for ignoring him.

"Oh," You snap, "So you're going to tell me what I can and cannot do now?"

"Why are you looking for a fight, y/n?" He sighs, "I'm just saying I was worried about you, how was I supposed to know what happened?"

"I'm not looking for a fight."

"You're always looking for a fight," Frustration is heavy in Joost's words.

"Is that really what you think of me?" You scoff, covering the ache you feel in your heart with anger.

You hear Joost let out a breath on the other end, "No," You note how tired he sounds as he continues, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. You know I didn't mean that."

"I don't know that. It sounds like you did." You're having none of his apology, weeks of growing resentment were not going to be fixed by one simple apology.

"Mijn lieve meisje" (My sweet girl) He coos, "I don't mean to make you so angry." His voice has softened, a stark contrast to the harsh tone of your own voice, "You know I hate to hear you sound like this- even worse to know I did it."

Something about the gentleness of his voice, and the way he seems so aware of his own role in all of this makes your heart thump- and you almost want to forgive him altogether. But you can't, not right now- not yet.

I hear you breathing on the line... / I leave you hurting every night

"Het spijt me (I am sorry), I want to make things better between us."

"I don't know," You mumble, unsure of if there is even anything that could make things better.

"You don't know how badly I wish I was with you," His voice rich with longing, "I need to make these last few weeks up to you. I miss you liefje, I miss us."

You can't lie, you want that too, wishing so badly just for everything to go back to normal, to no longer have this hole in your chest, for your body to no longer ache with this profound sadness.

"It's just going to be so hard to forget last ni-"

"I know, schatje." He cuts you off, "You have every reason in the world to be angry with me."

"Are you angry with me?" You ask, wondering if he mirrored your own upset feelings towards

"Angry isn't the right word, no." And suddenly your stomach churns with guilt, "I'm just tired of how things have been."

You're tired too, tired of dreading his calls, tired of the tears, tired of the sleepless nights regretting every awful word you've said.

"Me too," You murmur

"I won't force you to forgive me," Joost sighs, "Not until you're ready. But I know you're upset, and I want you to feel better."

His words are so soft, so gentle, melting away your anger with each. careful syllable.

"Can you talk to me, please?" He's practically pleading.

"What do you want to talk about?" You're unsure of what conversation could fill this dead air, how you could possibly talk and things feel okay.

"Tell me what you're doing now," He requests, his words quick.

"I'm just in bed," You shrug nothing special.

"Breaks my heart to think about you all alone in that big bed." You can't tell if the pity in his voice is mocking or genuine.

"I guess it's okay," You had gotten used to the loneliness, it was worse in the first few days he had been gone.

"Mh-mh," he mumbles in disagreement, "Hate thinking about how my pretty girl has to sleep alone every night."

There's a sensuality in his tone that makes you clench your jaw, and your breathing deepen. His pretty girl. His.

"In my bed, at that." He adds.

You supposed he was technically right- you had been the one to move into his apartment.

You hum softly into the phone, not able to come up with many words to say, he seemed more like was simply just thinking out loud than having a conversation.

"I miss you," He says again, "Tell me you miss me too, schatje, I know you do."

There's something about the way he speaks that makes you oblige so easily,

"Miss you too," You mumble, head falling to the side as your eyes close.

"Mmm good," He's practically purring to you, "You're so good."

The praise was simple, you hadn't done much past admitting something the two both knew was true, but it felt like it had been so long since the two of you had spoken so gently to one another, and so you absolutely drank it up.

"You're saying so little, what is on your mind?" He pries like he's looking for something specific.

"Nothing, really." You're entirely self-aware of how boring you must sound to him, but it's the truth- sort of.

He hums in response, "Can I tell you what I'm thinking about?" He asks, his voice oozing with anticipation

"I won't stop you,"

"I'm thinking about you, thinking about how beautiful you must look right now, about holding you, how your body feels against mine, about-" He stops short,

"About..?" You trail off, wanting him to continue his pretty praises. A delightful tingle was beginning to spread through your body, his kind words making you weak.

"More of the same," He says quickly, "Just thinking about being with you now."

A soft smile sweeps over your face at the thought, though you assumed your thoughts now had to be a lot less innocent than his. You couldn't help yourself, you'd been so pent up since he left that the smallest words of adoration were setting you off.

Your hands trail down under the covers, rubbing at your inner thigh, before softly grazing over your panties. You let out a sigh, rubbing soft circles over your clit through the thin lacey fabric.

Your breathing quickens as you deepen your movements, rubbing with more intention now. You arch your back, thinking about how this would be going down if Joost was here, the two of you had never needed to have makeup sex before- but you supposed now was as good of a time as ever to imagine it.

You think about how Joost said he needed to make it up to you, about how the last few weeks had been- at this moment you couldn't have thought of a better way for him to make things up to you than with his tongue, or his fingers, or his cock.

Your pussy ached at the thought of him- the thought of you stretching around him as he mumbles sweet words in your ears about how sorry he is.

You slip your panties to the side, a finger sliding down your now-soaked folds, the contact making you gasp, "Fuck,"

You can hear Joost clicking his tongue on the other end of the line- and suddenly you realize what you had just done, your body growing with an uncomfortable and shameful heat.

"So dirty," He chastizes

"W-what?" You sputter, attempting to feign innocence about what you had been doing.

Who wouldn't let you scream 'oh' into a soft pillow / I'm such an animal, and baby honestly these teeth won't let you go

"It's okay, schatje, you don't have to act stupid," His smirk is audible through the phone, "Don't be embarrassed, keep going, let me talk you through it."

Your body relaxes and your embarrassment subsides.

"Now, will you tell me what you're thinking about?" He asks sweetly

"Thinking," A soft sigh falls from your lips, "About you," Your hand slowly crossing your thighs to return to your throbbing cunt, "About how bad I want you." The words are a struggle to get out as you resume drawing circles around your swollen clit.

"Yeah?" He encourages, and you hear some shifting on the phone, "What do you want?"

"I want," You breathe out, "You," Another breath, "Inside of me."

"Fuck," He groans, his breathing becoming louder, "Want this cock, pretty?"

"Y-yes- ah!" You can't suppress your high-pitched yelp as you slip a finger into your leaking entrance.

"Say it, tell me how much you want me to fuck you." He begs, his voice low and gritty.

"So bad, Joost, need to be fucked so bad" Your words are breathless as you pump your fingers in and out, making your eyes screw shut tight. "Fuck, I haven't had you inside of me in so long, I need it." You feel your lower stomach tightening, pleasure taking hold of you.

"How about my tongue, hm? I'd love to taste you right now, always so sweet for me," Joost sounds just about as breathless as you do right now, and the thought of him on the other end only makes you want to work your fingers harder.

"Uh-huh," You whine, thinking about his tongue lapping at your arousal, his tongue trailing from your swollen clit to your quiver entrance, teasing, before taking a dip inside. "Anything- just need you."

"Oh, you have me, you'll always have me." His words are hungry, and you can tell he's speaking through a clenched jaw, "Fuck, liefje, you have me so worked up like this and you're not even here, love hearing that pretty voice of yours."

You're almost positive you're certainly in an even more worked-up state than he is.

"Mmmneed you to fuck me until I can't walk," You sigh, unable to help but think about him absolutely ruining you, his hands groping your flesh as he pounds into you, unrelenting. "My fingers can't reach as good as you do," You can't help but stroke his ego a little, he deserved it after the hell you had been putting him through.

"Oh," He whines, "arme schatje, (poor baby) I know, I know, just keep working those fingers for me though, okay?"

Despite your fingers not being able to hit all the same places Joost can, the pressure in your body is still building, and you can tell you're losing control, especially as a long string of groaned expletives falls from Joost's mouth, his obvious pleasure only working further to push you to the edge.

"I'm c-close," You stutter, your legs starting to shake.

"Speak up, baby- want to hear how you cum for me."

The pace at which your fingers pulse in and out of you increases, working to bring yourself over the edge. You imagine Joost inside you, imagine him bringing you to an orgasm and cumming all over the length of his cock.

You can't talk now, your words are simply replaced by loud moans and gasps as you hope to god you don't wake up the neighbors.

In the throughs of your orgasm now, your back arched- near screaming, "I-I'm cumming, fuck, Joost," You can't finish the rest of your sentence, all you can focus on is the wave of pleasure that overtakes you, the way the tightness in your body is shattering.

"Hold on," Joost grunts, "I'm almost there- hold on,"

You lay on your back, legs shaking, out of breath, listening to Joost on the other end.

He finishes with one final strained "Fuck"

Neither of you speak for a few minutes,- your mind is racing, your thoughts absolutely dizzying as the silence is only filled by the two of you attempting to catch your breaths.

"Still angry now?" Joost asks, finally breaking the tension.

"I don't think so," You're not, you were way too blissed out to feel anything but complete, overwhelming love.

"So you love me again?" He jokes, chuckling to himself.

"I never stopped."

a/n: i added a pt. II to this, find it here

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein smut #joost klein x f!reafer #rpf

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deanbrainrotwritings · 1 month ago

Text

— SUNBURN

SUMMARY : you're the wedding planner for sam's wedding, it's at the beach and… well, dean at the beach

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : sam winchester, jessica moore

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff, some suggestiveness, shy!reader (lmaoo, or awkward, if you'd like), angst if you squint

WORD COUNT : 1.8k

A/N : title is a muse song. part of the @alphabetquest beach party prompt and the @jacklesversebingo square wedding planner au. y'all, this was new to me, but I liked embarrassing the reader and making her embarrassing and shy xx

You felt slightly guilty for not telling Sam about you and Dean.

To be fair, you didn't know they were related when you met Dean.

You met him at a local cafe, had your laptop in front of you, a couple of notes scribbled on photographs and other sheets of colourful paper strewn over the table besides a warm cup of coffee from your third refill, and a slice of pecan pie that was quickly getting colder and colder.

Dean came in when you were been busy arguing with the local florist over the phone about what Jessica wanted the flower arrangement to look like. The florist wanted to give his opinion, as if it even mattered. It wasn't his wedding, it was Jessica's.

You started to stress over having to consider calling a different florist.

Phone calls just weren't your thing despite all the work and phone calls you take due to your job, but it's still the one thing you're always nervous about doing.

You buried your fingers in your hair and nervously rubbed your fingers against the strands between your fingers as you looked through the checklist for something you'd much rather focus on.

"Careful there, sweetheart," Dean's voice turned your attention away from the screen of your laptop. "You'll pull your pretty hair out." You stared up at him, that flirty smirk on his lips made you smile subconsciously, and you turned hot with embarrassment.

You untangled your fingers from your hair to hold your wrist over the table and brushed your fingertips nervously over photographs of the beach Jessica was interested in.

You stared into his green eyes, his expenctant face made you freeze. He was smiling—tightly now, and began chewing on his lip the longer you stared like a deer caught in headlights, the amusement in his eyes dimmed, and he suddenly appeared unsure.

"Sorry, am I botherin' you?"

"No! I-" you cleared your throat, hoping the blaze in your cheeks would cease. "I was just… distracted." He smiled and looked down at the small cup of coffee in his large hands. You bit your lip to calm yourself, but then he looked up at you again, and all the words you were forming in your mind for a sentence, suddenly vanished.

"Alright," he murmured shyly, then reached into his black jacket, and pulled out a small card. "I'm gonna be straightforward here and say that you're cute." He stared down at the small rectangular paper between his fingers and placed it above the pile of papers. You blinked up at him dumbly, turning hotter and hotter. "Call me when you're not… distracted," he teased, biting his lip before stepping away and leaving the cafe.

You blinked down at the business card he left for you, his name was printed in black, his number. He was a mechanic from Kansas. A sexy one. And he thought you were cute.

And that was really what started this whole secret of yours.

You met him, not knowing he was Sam's older brother until a few days after. Days after you anxiously called his number to give him your name and plan a date. Days after you'd already had a date with him. Days after you'd both already made out heavily in his car.

You found out Dean was Sam's brother when Jessica had begged you to have dinner with them.

You were happy that she liked you that much, half-shocked and half-uncomfortable with getting closer to a client than professionally required, but you couldn't help being drawn to Jessica and her friendship after all the months that had passed.

When you got to their home, after nervously navigating through Google Maps, you'd entered to find Sam smacking Dean over the head with a rolled-up wedding magazine because he'd dozed off on the couch with a half-empty beer.

You and Dean stared at each other across the table as the four of you ate, slowly and stupidly putting the pieces together.

Dean left Kansas to come to California for Sam and Jessica's wedding. He was staying for a month before returning to Kansas as you prepared everything for the special day. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but this was definitely not it.

Of course, after your initial shock, Dean quickly became more comfortable around you.

And you were half-sure Jessica was trying to set you up with Dean while Sam tried to sway you away from his brother.

To say the least, it was a mess. One that Dean was loving.

It made you cringe to remember the day you met him, but Dean made a point to remind you as much as he could about how it happened, whenever he deemed it the right moment.

It never was the right moment to you.

To him, the right moment was whenever anyone asked how you and Dean met. You'd freeze up and be vague about it, or you'd lie and say it was through Sam and Jessica, but Dean would wait for them to leave before reminding you how it actually happened.

You came to find that with Dean, it was nearly impossible to keep something quiet.

He was so…

Well, he stole kisses whenever he had the chance, reached out to touch you whenever he could, and whispered things to you knowing he wouldn't get caught.

He wouldn't get caught.

But you, you were obvious. It was impossible to hide the way he made you feel, and really, you hated your body for betraying you that way.

You swallowed your pride and fumed internally for being so… fucking shy.

Now, here you were.

Finally, on Sam and Jessica's wedding.

Jessica had insisted that you enjoy yourself now that the main part was over. She was glowing and absolutely beautiful.

Jessica found out about you and Dean not long after, when he thought he could get away with making out with you in the hallway of Jessica's house after you'd innocently exited the restroom.

He'd surprised you, waiting a few feet away from the door. You lifted a brow at the way he casually leaned against the wall. When you stood closer, he'd turned to you, grabbed your jaw, and kissed you until you almost couldn't breathe. And Jessica had gone up to check on you and found… well, that: Dean leaning over you with his tongue shoved in your mouth while you clung desperately to his soft flannel with his fingers pressed carefully into your cheeks as he led the kiss.

At that point, you were convinced the universe enjoyed putting you in embarrassing situations.

You only dreaded the beach party, the reception that Jessica had insisted you relax and enjoy after all your hard work.

The dread wasn't really because of Dean, it was because of you. The way he made you feel so… shy. It was annoying.

What happened to the way you couldn't shut up when someone pissed you off? What happened to the way you stood your ground and held a man's gaze whenever he flirted with you?

Of course that may be because Dean was Dean, he was hot, and he was funny, and he was smart, and he was kind, and he was confident, and he was sweet, and he was romantic. Basically, it was because you liked him, but you begged the universe to tell you why you had to get tongue-tied and turn scarlet in his presence. Even after all the time that had passed. Why couldn't you just get used to it?

You couldn't really complain. Seeing Dean… almost naked… with those fucking shorts hanging low on his hips. His toned stomach and the trail of light, fine hair leading downwards…

You were thirsty.

You took a sip of your cool piña colada.

Jessica and her bridesmaids continued to gush about weddings, romance, their boyfriends, and their future dreams.

All you could do was focus on Dean. You almost didn't want to think about what they were talking about and associate it with Dean…

He was excited.

About the sand crunching beneath his feet, about the salty breeze that stuck to his skin and tousled his brown hair, about the kiss of bright sunlight against his gorgeous freckled skin.

It made you smile and like him even more.

Eventually, Jessica and her bridesmaids got drunk enough that they started to dance and sing with each other.

And you'd found yourself falling into Dean's gravity.

He held you in his arms and swayed slightly to the song playing on the speakers, his beer hung loosely in his hands behind you. He seemed sober as he gazed down at you, arousing that stupid hot blush on your cheeks.

You huffed and looked at the waves as they rolled and swayed, away and towards you.

You heard the dull glass thump of his mostly-empty beer bottle hitting the sand. One of his hands was warm and the other was cool as they moved up your back. You sivered at his touch and bit your lip, smilling to yourself as your gaze moved up towards the horizon.

"You okay?" He asked quietly, playing with the thin strap of your bikini. Your breath hitched when his fingers suddenly crossed over your shoulder to graze the side of your breast.

"Huh?" You stared up at him.

His intuituve green eyes looked into you. Instead of repeating the question, which took you a few moments to process anyway, Dean took your hand, and gently kissed your salty wrist. You clenched your hand tightly, your heartbeat thudded loudly at his affection, and you bashfully pulled your hand out of his grasp.

He was sneaky and brought his other hand to your cheek. His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, his fingers tangled lightly in you knotted hair.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, stepping so close to you, flashes of hotter images of being this pressed up against him flooded your mind.

You uttered his name quietly, hoping that no one was watching you. The water lapped at your feet, cooling you down and urging you to give in.

You didn't know if the small waves were making you dizzy or if it was Dean who tenderly brought you closer to his lips.

He kissed you slowly, breathed you in deeply, and mumbled against your parted mouth, "do you want me to stay?"

In an instant, you imagined morning and evenings with him. You imagined visitng the beach more often, getting older, kissing more, loving more of him. He kissed you as you pictured the life you could have if he decided to leave his entire life behind in Kansas and move to California with you.

Would he regret it? Would you?

Dean pulled away from your mouth and licked the taste of you from his plump, pink lips. You smiled and hid your face by looking down at his freckled chest, tracing a random path of freckles with your eyes and fingers. "I'd like it if you stayed, Dean. Just know… I'd go anywhere with you, too, if it's what you want."

Dean chuckled softly, his calloused hands cupped your hot cheeks, and he kissed your forehead. He held you close, placed his chin on top of your head, and mumbled, "Yeah, we still have time to figure it out."

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prettyboykatsuki · 6 months ago

Text

cw for ; cheating like really bad cheating dskfsk, mind games, bisexual reader (its relevant!!!), emotional sadism, yandere in the most uncomfortable flavor, and sexuality fuckery.

readers gender is intentionally left neutral!!. @p00pdev1l tag for my beloved.

You can feel yourself starting to cry again.

You have a headache. The noise of the izakaya is flooding out into the streets. Even with alcohol and cigarettes and other distractions, you can't help but feel like you're about to throw up. The dry-heave works itself up to your throat, and you smoke a little to shove it back down.

You were careful this time.

When you hear footsteps walk themselves next to you, and see nice black dress shoes from your gaze is downcast - you already know it's Suguru.

You feel yourself getting sick again. Your voice is hoarse, scratchy with pain and tears. You're unimaginably angry at him, and you're sure if you were a little drunker, you'd take your pocket knife to his throat.

But the words don't come. You're so frustrated you just ended up crying again, hiccuping. Something falls onto your shoulders, a jacket that smells like cologne.

That wakes you up, makes you turn your head to one side. Your heartbeat is hard and loud, and your anger is the only thing in your body. Your seething, all hard lines and rage.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He shrugs. "It's cold. You'll get sick."

"Don't act like you give a single fuck about me, you psychopath."

His reaction to that is cold. Makes your blood run cold. "Call me whatever you want but don't say I don't care about you."

"Fuck off, Suguru," The feeling of his name is intimate in the same way knives are. Sharp against the roof of your mouth because of the smooth way the syllables slice. The familiarity of a cut. "Go inside and fuck off. Go be with..." Your words trail off.

"I'd rather be out here," He assures, then shrugs. He joins you in smoking, but you turn your gaze back to the pavement so you don't have to look. "She'll be fine without me."

There's a lot of things you don't understand about him. What you understand least though is this. How long has it gone on? How long did he plan on doing this?

The first time Getou stole the girl you loved from you, you're nearly too heartbroken to stay friends with him. It was your first real crush. A girl in the same year as you. You loved her. She smelled soft like roses and put her head in your lap. You managed to confess to her despite yourself at the end of your second-year.

She was your friend, still - even as she let you down gently. Told you that she had a boyfriend now. He was your friend, actually.

The first time it happened, you thought about cutting your ties with Getou. He didn't pretend to be apologetic to you, said she was cute and he liked her. He didn't say he was sorry.

Instead he said: "You shouldn't be with a girl who could get over you so easily." And leaves it at that.

You almost got physical with him, you remember. Gojo stopped you.

Over the years, the incident becomes pattern enough to recognize. The first is a mistake, the second a frustrating coincidence. The third time it happens you do get into an altercation. Each time Getou confronts you he says the same thing. That if a girl really loved you, she wouldn't been with him so easily. If a girl really loved you, she shouldn't have been so easy for him to persuade.

You think abut killing him. It's so frustrating, so humiliating, so painful it nearly puts you in therapy. The fourth time in happens, you try to cut him off but you can't. Your lives are so tied together you can't avoid seeing him and for whatever reason he can't leave you alone.

When there's no one you're interested in, he's your friend after all. That's the strangest part. The part that makes the least sense, that he acts like your fucking friend when he does that to you but he does it again and again and again. It hurt less when it was just puppy crushes. Eventually you grew numb to it. Gave up on love for a while.

When you meet Mikoto, you don't make the mistake of showing your interest. You especially don't show it around Getou. On the job, a sorcerer from a branch in the Nara prefecture who's recently moved. A nice woman with black hair and soft eyes, you seek her friendship first and don't let yourself indulge in anything more.

You don't dote on her more than friends. You don't show your feelings off. You don't tell anyone, not even Gojo whom you tell everything, or Shoko - who you tell when you don't want Getou finding out. You bury the feeling of love in yourself and hope they die there. You hope she ends up with anyone but you, or you in some miracle.

You fall in love with her because it's who you are. Getou shows up with her at your gathering the minute you begin to accept it.

If he doesn't hate you, it must be something much stronger. Disgust or pure disdain. Something stronger than hate must drive him to do this so perpetually.

It's not even something you can tell anyone. What do you tell girls before you go out with them? What do you say to people when they ask why you and him act so odd?

There's nothing to say. Nothing to explain. It's so fucked up that you wouldn't even know where to begin.

Your voice is trembling as you take another drag of your cigarette. "How did you know?"

He laughs a little. "You make it obvious."

"Why do you keep doing this to me...?" You ask, defeated. Broken, maybe. "....I really loved her."

Getou shrugs again. You can tell even if you don't see it. "She was the same as the rest of them. I'm doing you a favor."

"Do you even like her?"

He takes a drag of his cigarette and looks at you a little longer than you expct. "So-so."

"I hate you," You give up on everything else, letting your cigarette fall to the ground. Your voice is shot. "You're fucking horrible. Just leave me alone. Please, please just leave me alone."

There's a minute of silence there. He stamps his own cigarette out and sighs. "You should come in. You'll catch a cold." You don't reply. He sighs again. "I'll buy you a drink."

You break down in tears all over again.

When you're in highschool, you date Satoru for a week.

Suguru remembers this. It's one of the only things about his highschool experience that feel standout. A defining moment of his youth, where the two of you try it just because everyone says you should and neither of you really like it. You end up being friends again, laughing it off after it happens.

But he hated it.

There was a pit in his stomach the entire week. Even though you barely dated, and only really held hands as a joke - Suguru hated it. You kissed Satoru too, you confessed. He was a decent kisser, but you didn't feel much.

It was a joke of a relationship. Still.

He remembers too, the first time you had your first real crush. Up until then, you'd really never thought of anyone else. There was no one for Suguru to care about. But he remembers exactly when it happened, and where - how the four of you were slacking off in the storage room, passing around Shoko's cigarette. He remembers the way you got embarrassed telling them about her. How you could barely keep the smile off of your face.

The first time Suguru steals someone from you, it's during highschool. It wasn't because he had really wanted her. He hated her. Hated how she smiled at you and hated how innocently she spoke. But when he stepped closer to her, she blushed.

It was to get her to fall for him. And that wouldn't do, he didn't think. How could you like someone with so little resolve? When she couldn't be even a little loyal to you?

He asked her out on a whim that time. But he saw how angry it made you. How your eyes were wet with tears and how much you hated him in that moment.

How much you thought of him. Have you ever before then? Considered him so much? Suguru didn't think so.

It becomes an obsession, Suguru can admit. It didn't really matter who it was, though it'd been mostly girls. Anyone you showed interest in. Anyone who caught your eye. Suguru got their first and you always, always looked so miserable about it. Like a puppy who can't get on a couch, he thinks.

He prefers when you've already been with them. He prefers knowing that your skin has touched theirs. The parts of you that linger in their life become Suguru's so wholly. When he can smell your scent and taste your cigarette smoke. It'd be better if it was you, but there was something gratifying in this.

In the roundabout ways of finding you. Of seeing pictures of you in their phone, or of tasting you. It's like being with you, even though it's never enough. Always wants to make him break you more.

He likes when they cheat on you with him. He likes when it's just after. They get some cheap thrill out of it. Suguru can entertain it even if it disgusts him.

It's the only way your shirts end up in his closet. The only way he can smell your new shampoo so deeply because you share it. They think that he must hate you. He's sure you think that too.

But that's not it. He couldn't hate you. All the people he's ever fucked, he's tried to find evidence of your intimacy with them. Kiss marks he didn't leave on their skin, clothes they don't own, music they wouldn't normally listen to. You would. They're all yours.

He'd ask about you to them. Often. Listen to the parts of yourself that you'd been trying to keep secret from him.

He'd take it all by force and discard them all afterwards. That was all he wanted. You were all he wanted.

He liked seeing you angry with him. Liked seeing you cry and weep. Liked that you couldn't go anywhere or love anyone without thoughts of him following you and haunting you.

Satoru thinks he should just ask you out already. Suguru doesn't think he's broken you down enough. You need it to hurt a little more. You need to think of him a little more until you can't love anyone else.

Suguru wants to see you hurt a little more. Until you're so broken you're really begging. When he brings her with him today, you react even worse than he could have hoped for it. He shivers a little thinking about it.

He's getting closer to really breaking you, he thinks.

He looks at you now as he puts out his cigarette, broken from his thoughts.

"You should come in. You'll catch a cold." You don't reply. He sighs again. "I'll buy you a drink."

Suguru turns around to leave after he says it. Goes back inside. Before the door of the izakaya closes again, he can hear the way you sob so desperately.

He smiles at that. Just a little.

#aristotle.txt #getou x reader #jjk x reader #yandere cw #writing tag #cheating cw #THIS IS SO WEIRD KDFJHFS #its based of a bl i read #but worse #dark content cw

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teenytinyjimin · 7 months ago

Text

i miss you, i’m sorry (j. jungkook)

nothing happened in the way i wanted

every corner of this house is haunted

and i know you said that we’re not talking

but i miss you, i’m sorry.

summary: the first time seeing each other after the breakup is always the hardest. but seeing each other when you're still in love? an absolute nightmare

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2k

tags: angst, smoker!jk, brokenhearted!jk, equally as brokenhearted!reader, why did they even break up in the first place?, featuring reader’s bestfriend!jimin, also jimin is sexually ambiguous let's keep it that way please

warnings: none, alcohol/nic use but nothing too intense, kinda sad but it's a happy ending i promise

author’s note: idk why i keep making my fic names and stuff inspired by songs, i guess it just helps me beat writers block.

also i wrote this in second person, lmk if you guys prefer that over third. i personally find third person fics easier to write, but i'm sure second person is easier to read for some of you. enjoy my angels!

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Bars weren't really your thing.

If you were going to be honest, they were miles better than nightclubs, but still not your thing. It was something about the air that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was all the creepy old men that turned you off of them, or just the fact that there's not much to do besides sit, drink, sit some more, maybe play some pool and... sit.

Jimin, on the other hand, loved bars. He loved being able to sit there, look pretty, and watch as absolutely anyone and everyone flocked over to him to start a conversation. It admittedly fueled his ego, and he loved the feeling of being the center of attention. However, he didn't love being at bars alone. Being so drop-dead gorgeous meant that about twenty times the amount of creeps bothered him than the average bar patron. Many of them figured that a pretty boy like him was sitting there waiting to be swooped up by a sugar daddy. Let's get one thing straight – that wasn't him. He had plenty of money. He just wanted to have a little conversation, give a little kiss here and there maybe, and dip at the end of the night with his bar companion by his side.

Unfortunately for you, that bar companion was usually you. It was certainly a compliment for Jimin to want to bring you along with him instead of any of his other gazillions of friends and other social connections, but it was quite exhausting for you to be in a bar pretty much every day of every weekend. He liked the attention, but you didn't. If it were an empty room with nothing but you and a bottle of rum, you'd have a blast. But what bar in Itaewon was going to be like that?

Alas, here you were, sat at the end of a bar with your friend sitting next to you. Something about the light in the building made him look extra beautiful tonight, his skin shimmering like the most precious of diamonds and his eyes deep and full of allure. At the moment he was making small talk with a lady on the other side of him, one who was definitely at least twenty years his senior but didn't look a day past thirty. Sighing, you drop your head down to look at your drink, a half-full martini glass that held a rather disappointing cosmopolitan (you weren't a vodka fan anyway, it wasn't the bartender's fault).

You wanted to be home. That was the only place you ever wanted to be these days. At home, cuddling your darling kitty in bed, and sleeping your days away. Maybe a year ago you would have loved being out and about, but now it feels more like a burden than a fun activity. And you know that Jimin doesn't mean any harm in doing what he does, but seeing him talk with so many people over the course of the night and being so happy is almost a bit gut-wrenching for you because you can't be as happy as him.

You began to feel the blood rush to your ears and your face get warm. Something was wrong, you could sense it. Everyone has those gut instincts when something isn't quite right, and this wasn't just an instinct, it was like a neon sign. A neon sign that read DANGER. Perhaps it was just you feeling rather anxious and overwhelmed, but either way you were craving the comfort of your home.

"Hey, 'Minnie, can we-" Just as you turned to Jimin to softly ask him if you could go home or at the very least switch bars, you felt a presence behind you. It wasn't just an I'm here to order a drink presence, but rather an I'm here for you one. Realizing that Jimin wasn't even listening anyway, you froze, waiting to see what would happen. And that's when you heard a familiar voice that you thought you'd never hear again.

"Hey."

You didn't want to turn around. You tried to stay as still as a statuette for as long as possible, however the more you thought about the man behind you the more you felt the urge to turn around and take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned until you were face-to-face with your ex, Jungkook.

"Want to talk outside?" Not yet looking at him directly, you hesitantly nodded before quickly looking back to Jimin and then standing up. You left your purse there, figuring that your friend would grab it if he changed locations, and began trailing after the tall tattooed figure that navigated his way toward the door.

As the two of you stepped out into the cool autumn air, you crossed your arms and leaned against the building. Your heart was between your ears at this point, buzzing at what felt like 200 beats a minute. It was stupid for you to have even left Jimin's side, you thought, because now you were alone with your ex of all people and God knows what this boy has up his sleeve.

"You look good," Jungkook said gently as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. "And I know what you're going to say, you're so full of it Kook, but I mean it."

"Since when have you started smoking?" You asked, ignoring his previous two statements and gesturing toward the pack in his hand. He shrugged. "Couple weeks after I last saw you maybe? Not a big deal."

"You know that stuff's bad for you."

"I don't think sitting here third-wheeling with Jimin and his beau of the night is any better."

"You don't know Jimin, don't act like you do," You said, completely taken aback and offended by the words coming out of his mouth. "And I'm having a good time, thank you very much."

"Doesn't seem like it. Weren't you about to ask him if you guys could leave?"

"I was having- What?- Is there a reason you asked to talk to me out here?" You were struggling to form a complete sentence. This man always knew how to leave you speechless, but now it was just irritating. You watched as Jungkook leaned back onto the building with you and shook his head, giving you a toothy grin before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. "Nah. Just figured you'd have more fun out here talking to me and getting a break from it all."

"You know he's waiting for me, right? I should go back inside." You stand back up straight and begin walking back into the bar, however you feel a warm hand wrap gently around your wrist and tug you back. "Hey hey hey," Jungkook called. "He'll survive a few minutes without you. Just chill with me. I'm not asking you for anything, just a second of your time."

You turned to face your ex-lover, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time that night. Even after all this time of being apart, those beautiful doe eyes still yearned for you, and yours for him. With a shaky sigh, you brush his hand away and return to where you were standing. "Exes don't hang out like this, Jungkook."

"Woah, you're pulling out the full government name on me now?" The boy teased, puffing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Should I be offended?"

"I'm setting boundaries," You crossed your arms and kicked at the ground beneath you. "Nicknames are for friends or more than friends, which we aren't."

"We aren't strangers either though."

"That doesn't matter. Not friends."

"Alright, fine," Giving up, Jungkook looked down at his hand and flexed it awkwardly. "Just trying to be friendly."

"Friendly?!" You said frantically, finally having enough of his antics. "You don't need to be friendly. We broke up and that's the end of it. Exes aren't friends. They go their separate ways and when they see each other again – if they see each other – they ignore each other. I don't get why you're doing this psychological warfare bullshit on me."

"Exes can be friends," He breathed out in protest. "Can you even tell me why we broke up in the first place?"

You remained silent. The truth was that you didn't know why you broke up either. It had been almost a year since the whole ordeal went down, and you were still confused more than anything else, even more than you were hurt. All you can remember is that you guys went through some bullshit ‘mutual breakup’ that apparently neither of you wanted in the first place. The only reason you even agreed to it is because somewhere within you, you felt like perhaps you weren’t deserving of such a wonderful relationship. And the only reason Jungkook agreed to it is because he thought that it’s what you wanted.

"No, seriously. What went wrong? What did I do? I just want some closure..." His voice became increasingly softer as he kept speaking, which only meant one thing. You stared at the ground intensely, refusing to look up and see his teary eyes.

You felt his hand gently wrap around yours and tug on it as a plea for your attention. Jungkook was your weakness, the only person you'd willingly do anything for, and he really loved to take advantage of that without even realizing he was.

You peered up at him hesitantly, worried that you'd find yourself in tears the second you saw the ones pouring from his eyes. Sure enough, when the eye contact began, you were driving yourself forward into his strong arms and dampening his shirt with your tears.

Jungkook's embrace felt the same as it did the last time you felt it. It was still so warm, so inviting, so loving. Never once did you feel unsafe in his arms and this moment was not an exception. As you sobbed into his shirt you felt his hand move from around your waist to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.

The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, simply letting all emotion out while enjoying the company of one another. While Jungkook has been exceptionally transparent in expressing the fact that he's heartbroken about the situation between the two of you, it's safe to say that you feel equally as devastated. This man was once the love of your life and the only one you ever needed, but now everything about him except for his embrace feels foreign. This was someone you once saw yourself building a life with, but now it's shattering to think that he has a life after you.

You pulled away after a while, refusing to make eye contact as you wiped the tears from your eyes. This all felt entirely pointless. It was obvious that nothing went wrong in the relationship yet here you were, no longer in one. You couldn't begin to imagine what Jungkook had been going through since you guys broke up considering the fact that for you, your entire world turned upside down.

"I'm sorry," You managed to choke out before you felt Jungkook's hand gently guide your face up to look at his. You watched him stare at you for a moment, taking in your features, before his lips began to curl into a soft smile. "Mmm. Yeah. You're way too pretty to let slip through my fingers."

Feeling your face turn hot as a blush crept to your cheeks, you let out a soft giggle before you were cut off by a familiar pair of lips meeting yours.

"JUNGKOOK?" You heard a voice call out. The two of you pulled apart, eyes wide. Shit. You forgot about Jimin.