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darnell-la · 2 months ago

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Logan in a rut has me brain rotted. I’d love if you could write something about this. I think he would try and isolate himself not matter what but it gets to the point where he can’t hold back anymore and needs relief. Idk if he would be more possessive and rough or if he would end up whiny and desperate almost subby.

note: this is a younger Logan Howlett who ends up a bit subby. he would 100% beg the reader to help him because he would be too embarrassed and shy to just man up and dominate her (we have different thoughts of Logan almost every day).

we will be worrying more rut!logan once we get caught up with our college work. we wanna make bro nasty…

———

Logan’s time has come. He hoped it wouldn’t show, but every day that passed, it gets worse. The first day, all he had to do was rub one out, but after the second, he knew he was fucked.

He couldn’t help himself. He fucked his pillow. The man was beyond fucked up that night. He had ripped his pillow open with his claws and buried his cock inside, moaning the girl's name like he’s never before.

Y/n and Logan had been friends for years. A little flirting here and there happens. They might even get a bit touchy but never have they sat and talked about what they were. Especially since the man was known for keeping his flirt up with Jean.

Logan wasn’t surprised when the only person he could think of was y/n. She was pretty, her body always sent a shock through his own, her eyes would have him lost in seconds, and she was the only one around here with common sense.

At times, he hated all those good things about her. Like now. He’s sitting across from her in the kitchen, watching her sip on her drink and watch YouTube on her phone.

All the innocent things she does, makes him so damn hard. He can’t help himself. “G-Goodnight,” Logan said as he got up to leave. He needed to rub one out again. Maybe he’d sneak into her room and cum on her sheets. He needed something that was close enough to her.

“Aw, I was gonna ask if you could walk and get some wood with me, but I’ll get it myself. Goodnight, Logan!” She smiled at the man before he turned the corner, needing to get out of there.

He hoped he could get himself to go upstairs without struggling. Without turning back around to beg Y/n, he couldn’t hold it after her thought of her saying she’d be getting wood tonight.

It’s been almost an hour, and Logan is sitting on the stairs, cock pulsing through his thick jeans. He swore his balls were blue already.

He almost got up to get this over with and grab y/n, pulling her somewhere to at least cum on her face, but he heard the lights cut off in the kitchen.

He peaked around the corner, seeing y/n walk down the hallway and out of the mansion to do her night walk for some wood.

“Fuck,” the man groaned, already thinking of how good he’ll be feeling once he gets his hands on her. He needed to touch her. It’s only been a few short days, but he can’t control it anymore.

The man stalked behind y/n, making sure she wouldn’t sense anything behind her as she walked through the woods with a huge bag to carry back a few dry sticks.

Logan shook his head at the sight of her headphones, knowing she couldn’t hear a thing around her. This was a safe place, but now that he was going through this feeling from hell, it wasn’t anymore. At least for her.

Y/n placed her bag down and took her headphones out before picking up thick and dry wood that she could use for the fire tomorrow night. The way she sang, only made the man want her more. He needed her now.

“Hey, y/n?” Logan spoke, making y/n jump from the unexpected presence of someone else. “Oh, god! Hey, Logan,” the girl smiled up at him as he walked towards her, looking down.

“I-I know this is kind of a weird time, but I need to ask you a question,” Logan said, feeling nervous now that she’s right here. “Yes, ask me anything,” she smiled as she shifted her body towards him.

“Fuck, I — Y/n, I’m going rough a rut,” the man blurted out. This was not a part of his plan. He was going to turn y/n around and shove his cock in her mouth before carrying her back to the mansion, but now he’s stuck.

“Oh — I-I don’t really know what that means, but I can still help you,” she said. “Y/n, it hurts,” the man spoke. His voice came off as a beg which made y/n feel sad for him, even though she had no idea what hurt.

“What is it, Lo? Tell me, and I’ll help you,” she went to get up, but Logan stepped towards her and placed a hand on her head, softly pushing her back down. “It hurts,” the man shifted her head just a little, making her realize his print was right in front of her face.

“Logan,” she said, loss of words at the sight of how hard his cock tried fighting through his jeans. “I-I don’t know what to do about that. Maybe take some pills. Cool it down?” She suggested, but he shook his head.

“Need you, y/n. I need you,” the man said low, needing her to touch him. “I-“ the girl cut herself off, taking a deep dive into her thoughts. The man sounded like he was in horrible pain. He was a friend, so this wouldn’t be bad, right?

“Okay, but I don’t know if it’ll help,” she said, not knowing that this would be more than enough. Y/n slowly reached up to unbuckle his belt. She could see his legs shaking a little from how nervous he was.

He had no idea what came over him. At first, he was going to get what he wanted. Use her like an animal, but now — Seeing her like this and willing to help him, made him feel better. She was going to take care of him.

“P-Please hurry,” the man begged as her hands slid down his clothes cock through his boxers after his shorts fell to his knees. “Did you cum?” Y/n asked, confused but the wet patch was only pre cum. A lot of pre cum.

“P-Please, y/n, fuck,” the man balled his fists, trying to keep himself from crumbling right then and there. He needed to leak in her mouth. No place else. Only her mouth.

“Okay, okay,” y/n worried as she finally pulled his cock out, and god, was he hurting. The veins that covered his cock, showed like crazy. His tip was sticky. His balls were stiff and ready to explode.

“Baby, please!” The man begged louder. Y/n quickly wrapped her lips around his cock and sunk down to take him all in. Well, as much as she could. He was very big.

“G-God,” the man breathed out as his head tilted back. “Oh my god, thank you. Thank you so fuckin’ much, baby,” Logan covered his face with his hands as his heart raised, feeling himself close.

“Oh, fuck, baby — yes,” the man moaned as she quickens her paste, slurping and coating his cock with her spit as she sucked a big roughly.

“Baby, please, let me cum. P-Please, I need to cum,” the man begged, wanting her to decide what he could do. Y/n nodded her head, not knowing what else to do, but she wanted him to cum. Have wanted to make him feel better.

“T-Thank you,” Logan moans loudly as his col twitched, spilling down the girl's throat. Y/n continued, sucking the man as his eyes crossed from the feeling of her emptying his sack.

“G-God,” he couldn’t keep himself together. She was so good at this. He wished he could have this every night before he went to bed.

“S-So good, y/n. So fuckin’ good,” the man let the woman know how great she was. Y/n’s glossy eyes looked up at him, feeling herself grow wet, but she knew she could deal with it herself.

“Get up, baby. Needa takes you back to my room,” Logan pulled y/n to her feet. Confused, the young lady allowed him to throw her over his shoulders.

“I can smell you, and I don’t want to leave you leaking for the night,” Logan said as he walked back towards the mansion. “I’ll be fine, Logan. I-I need to head to bed,” y/n spoke, a bit nervous about this all.

She thought that after she did him this small favor, that would be it. He had other plans. He wasn’t letting her go.

“You’ll sleep with me tonight. Tomorrow we’ll move your stuff to my room so you can sleep there every night,” the man thought way further than she thought.

“I don’t know if we can do that. We’ll have to tell Charles about our shared room, meaning everyone has to know, and I don’t know-“ she tried saying, but he cut her off.

“Baby, please. I’m fine with everyone knowing about what happened tonight. I can’t ignore how much I need you anymore,” Logan admitted.

“What if this happened again? What if I couldn’t walk to you from how hard I was? You do this to me, baby, so I need your help — I need you,”

Y/n sighed to herself then accepted what he wanted. Logan gave the girl a small peck on her side as he continued walking towards the mansion.

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chosolala · 5 months ago

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𐙚 ⋆˚｡⋆ jjk guys crushing on you

pt 2!! this is just some of my headcannons on how i think the jujutsu kaisen characters would act while crushing on you :]

characters: yuji, megumi, inumaki, yuta, todo, noritoshi, kokichi

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

yuji itadori

he probably would wait a while before he tells you but there are MANY signs before he actually confesses

he always calls you pretty and always wants to be near you

he also shows off on missions a little when you guys go together

he is constantly talking about you and asking you if you want to hang out

he is so sweet though, always paying for your food, making jokes to keep you laughing, letting you win when you guys play video games, holding doors for you, all that jazz

when he finally does confess he’d probably do something stupid like make todo stand outside your room with a boombox while he break dances

don’t break his heart he will never recover

megumi fushiguro

he doesn’t want to have feelings for you because he knows it’ll end with one of you getting hurt with the whole jujutsu sorcerer thing so he pushes you away a lot

he actually makes you think he hates your guts so you guys go a long time not talking unless you absolutely have to

when you guys do talk he is always blushing and looking away

over time you manage to crack him though and he starts treating you like a human being with emotions

he probably buys you a soda or some sweets as an apology for being an a-hole to you

you find out he likes you through nobara or yuji but he would never confess,

if you want things to work out between you guys you’d probably have to confess to him and hope for the best

toge inumaki

he also makes fun of you but in a WAY more light hearted way

like friendly picking on you, like he’d somehow find a way to make fun of you for being pretty

he likes to invite you to help him cook just so he can hang out with you

panda never hears the end about you

on your off days he always invites you to go out and do stuff with him, like literally anything, he’ll invite you to run errands with him or to go to the arcade

when he finally confesses to you it’s no surprise to anyone, yourself included,

he slips a note into your bag and it’s literally just the cutest confession ever like that note could bring a man to tears

inumaki may be a man of few words but he knows all the right ones

yuta okkotsu

he is actually terrified when he realizes he has feelings for you because of rika so he waits a while before he even talks to you because he wants more control over her, yk so she won’t bite your head off

since he’s never around anyway he decided to just talk to you once he got back from one of his missions about how you guys have so much catching up to do

he is very observant though, he watches you and he knows what you get up to and who you hang out with, what kind of shows and music you like but he doesn’t want to be creepy about it

he is very sweet though, you mentioned running out of your favorite candy and he surprises you with a new bag that you guys eat together

he is a very vanilla guy, if he likes you, and he’s able to express it, he’ll do things like ask you out on a date or bring you chocolate, open doors for you,

he also covers your eyes from certain things on missions, he knows you’re used to seeing stuff like that but he just doesn’t want you to see what HE does to curses

he would probably confess by inviting you to the park or something and asking you to be his <3

aoi todo

he is NOT slick about it at all

first time he sees you his jaw is on the floor

he is borderline harassing you but in a…. caring way?

like he’s the type of guy who would throw himself over a puddle so you don’t get your shoes wet

he wrote a song for you except he’s a terrible singer

he probably also got yuji to help him confess to you with said song

he’s honestly like your night in shining armor though, it’s almost like he can sense when your in danger because whenever missions are looking rough he busts in out of no where to save the day

whenever you guys actually get together you always catch him shamelessly admiring you, whenever you’re together his eyes are only on you

noritoshi kamo

also in denial about his feelings towards you, he would never confess to you first or even tell anyone he liked you, yourself included

he can’t stop himself from being near you or constantly doing favors for you though

he doesn’t invite you out or anything but he just likes being near you and being able to see you i guess

like he’s always looking out for you

he likes meeting you outside late at night and just talking to you

one time during your convos he let it slip that you were the prettiest person he’s ever seen and you ended up confessing to him after that

and they lived happily ever after

kokichi muta (sorry in advance)

this is a tough one since he’s kind of a robot for most of his screen time….

i think if he wasn’t mechamaru and he was an actual person he would be kind of cold but still soft towards you

like he wouldn’t necessarily be mean or nice to you but he’d bring you ice cream or something as a ‘here just so you know i actually like you’

he’s the type of guy to bonk u on the head

i think he’d probably confess with like chocolate or a flower but he’d be so nervous that he can’t even look at you while he does it but if you accept his feelings he can’t stop smiling

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peachesofteal · 10 months ago

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Simple Math / Part Seven

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.8k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Brief suggestive content, sex dream. Mentions of domestic violence, stalking. Hospital setting, nurse!reader. Feelings of fear, anxiety. Mentions of stress and weight loss. Soft dads. Little bit of flirting. Simon is... Simon. You get caught in a spell.

Johnny knows this is a dream.

It’s an odd thing, to be conscious of it, to know you’re dreaming but still unable to control your actions. It’s like watching a movie of yourself, but also being yourself, directing your body without having a say in what it’s doing.

He knows this is a dream, because you’re in it. You’re in their home, in one of Simon’s oversized sweatshirts, boy shorts rucked up over the little lightning bolts that arc across your hips, the underside of your cheeks. You’re smiling at him too, like you belong in there, like it’s yours too, and his heart swells, growing to a preposterous size.

“There’s my bunny.” He pulls you into his chest, mouthing up your neck and over your jaw. Your skin tastes like sugar, and when he gets to your lips, his hands shift, sliding down your back to grab two fistfuls of your ass with a groan. “Missed ye.”

“We missed you too.” His fingers trace the edge of your panty line, barely dipping into where you drip for him. “Come to bed, Si’s waiting.” You whisper, stifling a moan.

“Johnny.” Simon calls him, too loudly. He wants to hiss, snap at him about not waking the baby. “Johnny!”

His eyes blink open. White ceiling stares back at him, and he turns his head, finding Simon with a bemused look on his face.

“I was havin’ a great dream.” Johnny grumbles, latching onto him. Simon scoots closer, lifting the back of his hand to his lips with a secretive smile, dotting kisses down to his wrist.

“I know.”

“- and he has access privileges, as long he’s not interfering with care, he’s allowed to be in the room whenever he deems fit. Obviously, in cases where he shouldn’t be, like burn debridement, he’s fine with stepping out, but you should expect him to sleep here.” The nurse nods, nervously peeking over your shoulder at Simon, who’s lurking in the hallway, staring through the glass at the transport techs getting Johnny settled in his room. You catch her eyes, motioning to redirect her attention, and she mumbles a meek apology. “They have a daughter, who Johnny has been mostly separated from since he got here, and he’s hoping to see her often, since she’ll be allowed to visit more freely now. I told him it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay.” Her toes tap against linoleum, weight shifting from foot to foot, and you resist the urge to sprint back to her boss and demand someone else. Fuck. Why does Nora have to be on maternity leave?

“This is my favorite patient.” You warn her instead, dropping your voice low, pitching it brazenly serious. “I don’t ever want to see him back upstairs again, and that’s going to depend a lot on you.”

“Okay, okay.” Her work phone rings, and you jerk your head in dismissal, not quite finished, but not seeing a need to continue to harangue her, either.

Simon glances at you from down the hall, head turning once you’re alone. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t call to you, or say your name, but you’re helpless to the magnetic yank of his presence, a beam of gravity dragging you closer until you’re shoulder to shoulder, looking into Johnny’s room. He’s asleep, dark lashes feathered against his cheeks, blissed out and nearly snoring. “This will be great.” You say quietly. “He can see Penny almost as much as he wants down here. There are far less restrictions, and he’s doing so well, there’s nothing to worry about it.” He doesn’t say anything, just watches you with the x-ray vision that peels you open. Like he’s digging around in your head again.

“D’you have a minute?” You blink at him, graceful words dried out and missing.

“Uh, I… yeah, I’m technically off now so. Sure?”

“Have a tea with me? I’ll meet you outside the café, on the patio. Ten minutes alright?” Have a… have a tea with him?

His eyes are heavy. They’re lasered, locked onto yours, brows knitted together in something soft, some form of emotion that you don’t understand, framing his face above the mask. How can you say no?

“Okay, sure. Ten minutes.” You try to hide how your hands shake, tucking fingernail to palm, squeezing tight.

It doesn’t escape him.

You grow more afraid with each day, that nothing does.

The paper cup cradled in Simon’s outstretched grip is like every other paper cup you’ve seen before, drank from a thousand times, with steam wafting from its rim and aromatics spilling out into the air. “Sorry.” You blurt, reaching. His fingers brush against yours, warm contact momentarily stunning you. ‘Thanks.” You lift the tea to your nose, inhaling deeply.

Irish breakfast. With milk. Your favorite.

“How do you know what tea I drink?” You don’t mean for it to sound so suspicious, or aggressive, but it does. It’s nearly accusatory, but doesn’t affect him. He merely shrugs in response.

“I pay attention.” An engine turns over in the carpark, a small car sweeping across the lot as it turns out onto the street. You watch, feigning mild interest, trying to get a closer look at the driver without appearing too fixated. “So.” He sips, and then removes the lid, vapor rising from the top in a delicate little dance. “How long have you been at Addenbrooke’s?”

“A few years.” The answer is effortlessly supplied, like you’re under a spell. Your eyes go round. What are you doing? Crow’s feet crinkle at the corners of his own, and you manage a shaky smile.

“What brought you across the pond?” He jokes, velvet, soothing lilt in his voice.

“Work.” It’s easy to lie about this, the fabrication usually used in casual conversation almost every day with patients and new coworkers, people who are interested in you being from somewhere else, having a different accent, different education, customs, the whole lot. His jaw moves behind the mask, and before he can push the question further, you rush out your own interruption. “Simon, I want… I want to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.” He nods. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s… the other night Johnny said something about,” Your face is nearly scalding, embarrassment laden lump stuck in the back of your throat. “about you and him, and… me, I guess…” you trail off, eyes darting down into the tea.

“Go on?”

“He said that you guys think I’m special, and you- you said-“

“That we’re here for you.” He finishes, nonchalant.

“Right.” You breathe a little easier, knowing he knows what you’re talking about, words picking up steam. “I want you to know that it’s totally normal to feel this way. It happens a lot, you know. Patients and, or their family members, loved ones, they get attached. This affection starts to happen towards a member of the care team because we become that person who… provides care, twenty-four seven. So, you and… and Johnny, feeling like you have this attachment towards me, it’s very normal. Not a big deal.” You finish in one big breath, cutting your ramble short. His cheeks swell behind the fabric, like he’s smiling, eyes squinting again.

“That’s not what this is.” That’s not… what this is? What does that mean?

“What?”

“Transference. That’s not what is happening here.”

“How do you…”

“I’ve had years of therapy.” He sighs. “Are you uncomfortable?” Say yes, the girl in your head screams. Tell him you need it all to stop. That you don’t like them, that it’s inappropriate. You know how this will end.

“No.” You don’t know why you don’t acquiesce to your own good sense, why you ignore the very clear boundaries and rules that have kept you alive this long.

“Bunny, I need you tell me, honestly, if you are uncomfortable.” He levels you with an intense look, seriousness bleeding from his irises to yours. You press your palms flat on the table, quelling their trembling.

“It’s not… it’s not you. Or Johnny.” You whisper, eyes slipping shut. It’s easier that way, to just close them, to hide. To pretend you’re somewhere else, to block everything out.

What the fuck are you doing right now? Your brain screams, but your heart wails.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To be known like that? To be held in someone's heart, cherished and protected?

“Sweetheart,” Simon’s voice is low, calming, and when you don’t answer, one of his hands folds over yours. “are you with me?”

“Yes.” You peek at him, and then fully let yourself look around, steadying the rancid fear that permeates through your body. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He hums, hand still over yours. It’s warm, and broad, big thumb stroking a slow circle into your skin. “Is today your Friday?” You nod.

“It is, yeah. I’m… I’m looking forward to catching up on some sleep.” He straightens in the chair, shoulders and torso so unbelievably wide, like a long forgotten mythological god. Or the trunk of a massive tree.

“Will you have dinner with us, tonight?” The last of the orange red dawn spills over the crest of the buildings, and the world spins, cold sweat breaking out down your back.

“What?”

“Dinner, with us. I’m picking up takeaway for Johnny from his favorite place as a celebration, for graduating the ICU. We’d love to spend some time with you. Get to know you, if that’s alright.”

“Oh, I…” Say no, you have to say no, shut this down. It’s too much risk.

“No pressure. Just, hanging out, talking. As friends, if you like.” Butterflies thrash in your stomach so violently your knees bounce, and your heart leaps, pitching itself off a cliff like it wants to die.

“Okay.”

“Great. I can pick you u-“

“No! No, I’m fine. I have some errands to run after I get up for the day so, I’ll just meet you here.” It will be just like going to work. No harm, no foul. You can hang out with them, and go home, just like you’re at work. It doesn’t mean anything. It won’t.

You barely sleep. You pace, you nap, you thumb through endless craigslist listings in faraway cities for apartments, you read. You take the long way through the city back to your flat and slowly sift through pieces of your life that you want to keep. Your quilt from home, that’s been tucked away on a shelf. A sentimental trinket that belonged to your mom, also hidden in a drawer. These things that can be removed, without being noticed.

Not that it matters.

He hasn’t been here. Not since the sick shit he pulled with your underwear. It makes you curious when you inspect the undisturbed tape on the back side of the door, the light dusting of baking powder on the bedroom carpet, but not surprised.

It’s not unlike him, to make himself known and then suddenly disappear, the endless mind games partially intentional, and partially something not even he can control.

After all, duty calls.

He could still be in the city. He could still be watching. You don’t know anything for sure.

“Three things you cannot outrun in this world, babe. Death, taxes, and… me.” You mumble it to yourself, the same words that live in your head, in his voice, repeated, pulling a pair of scrubs from your dresser.

But you had been running, and still had your life to show for it.

It doesn’t matter, you know how this will end.

You’ve changed your clothes five times. You hem and haw in front of the mirror, trying not to look too closely at any one piece of yourself, switching shirt and pant combos until you finally settle on your usual, a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt. They’re high waisted, because low rise is not even within the realm of possibility for your hips, and you appreciate how they fit, even if they may sit a little loose right now, given your recent stress levels.

You look fine, you decide. You look professional. You don’t really look attractive, in any way, but the scars on your torso are hidden, and with a little bit of make-up, you think you look presentable. At the very least, you don’t look like you’re half asleep, which is exactly how you feel.

Not like it matters, you chide. This isn’t a thing; it’s just hanging out. You’re going to put an end to this entire charade, tonight.

The train is quiet, and you’re extra watchful. Every face, every movement is logged, every jacket or hat or hood is inspected. Posture, skin tone, height, of every person you pass or see is tabulated and run through your mind. Your brain, a supercomputer in its own right, does it all, seamlessly. It wants to protect you, it keeps you on guard, it can look at a crowd of twenty people all facing the opposite direction and locate a potential threat, just by the shape of the shoulders.

You don’t see him, you don’t feel him, your skin doesn’t prickle, and you let the lack thereof bring you peace, if only for a few moments.

Johnny’s floor is bustling. You wave hi to those you know, checking in with his nurse for a moment, letting her know you’ll be hanging out for a bit. She doesn’t even bat an eye, thankfully, and you try to settle yourself as you turn down the hall.

You’re not prepared for what you find when you knock on his door and slide it open, breath catching for a moment, and you scramble to cover your initial balk.

Their daughter is here. She’s cuddled up on Johnny’s good side, the one without the burnt tissue or recovering surgical wound. She’s asleep, wearing a black onesie covered in skulls, her head tipped back and mouth open, chubby cheeks and sweet little face perfectly content. She’s got her entire fist wrapped around one of Johnny’s fingers, holding it right under her chin like she’s afraid he might vanish while her eyes are closed. “Hey, bun.” Johnny whispers, smiling so wide, two fingers stroking through the wispy curls on top of her head. “We snuck in a visitor tonight.”

“I see.” Your heart trembles.

“Fell asleep right away, next to her Da. Been missin’ him these past few nights.” Simon chuckles, patting Johnny’s leg gently, affectionately. There’s a bag of take out on the table behind him, as well as what looks like an overnight bag, a purple duffel stuffed full. “Price is on his way to pick her up.” Penny gurgles, eyes blinking open in a sleepy daze like she knew they were talking about her.

“Ye’re alright, sh-shh, wee lamb.” Johnny coos. She’s half soothed by his words, but the lights in the room are far too bright, and her small noises waver into a cry, frustrated and tired. He tries move her, cradler her higher up his chest, but his face falls with pain, and Simon swoops in, pulling her into his arms. “Bunny, could ye-“

“Would you-“ They both try to ask at once, and you flounder once you realize the intention, a cranky, sleepy Penelope being pushed into your arms.

“I-“ she wails, interrupting you, bending you to her will without fuss, and you hold her closer, rocking side to side, humming above her ear. Just like the NICU, like a patient, like your stint in L&D, it’s fine, it’s-

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Not fine. It’s not fine. Heat burns in your belly. He can’t call you that, not when you’re holding their baby. “Thank you.” Simon says over his shoulder. He’s moving Johnny, lowering the bed slightly to help reposition him, and they speak quietly to one another, voices low enough you can’t make out any of the words.

“I can help you with him, if you want.” He waves you off.

“I need the practice, won’t have you around all the time anymore, yeah? And once he gets home…”

“Ach. ‘m not paralyzed. Jus’ uncomfortable.” Johnny glowers, pouting, and you roll your eyes, rhythm steady, gently bouncing, letting Penny cuddle into your chest, snuggling her face against your arm and side. She’s beautiful, precious and sweet, cooing herself back into a light slumber, and you smile despite yourself, still rocking after her eyes start to shut. “Knew she’d like ye.” He says softly, and you glance up, surprised by the intensity of their focus, heavy gazes fixed on you.

“She’s very sweet.” Your lips twist.

“She is.” Simon agrees. “We were happy to get her some time with her Da. Good for both of ‘em.” His fingers find Johnny’s cheek, and then their hands meet, a palm pressed to lips, a whispered a I love you.

An intimate moment, as you stand there with their baby in your arms.

“Alright, now that ye’ve done the hard work by gettin’ her back down,” Johnny gestures, urging you to step forward, and you carefully place her back in his arms. For a moment, your faces are level, and you get caught in his eyes, nerves strung so tight they could be a tightrope. “I’ve got her.” Weeks in the hospital, and he still smells like cedar and oranges, woodsy citrus that envelopes you, your lashes fluttering on the inhale. “She likes ye.” He murmurs, breath warm and tickling over your cheek.

“Well, she’s...” you straighten, hands smoothing down the front of your top. They’re moist, somehow, and you tuck them behind your back. “She’s a good judge of character, I guess.” Simon’s phone vibrates, Johnny’s plush smile turning dour, and he sighs.

“Okay baby girl. It’s time.” She cries a little, readjusting to Simon’s hold, and he slings the purple duffel over his shoulder, promising to be right back. Johnny nods, eyes downcast, and his face twists once the door shuts, cheeks turning red, staccato, hiccupped breaths coming fast.

“Hey.” You whisper. “Hey, Johnny.” The chair at his bedside creaks under you, and you lean forward, fingertips lightly caressing the tape residue that still sticks to his skin. You should clean that off.

“’m alright.” His shoulders roll, chin jutting out, brilliant blue gleam in his eyes returning, like storm clouds rolling off after rain. He’s silent for a beat, pinky finger folding over yours. “How was yer day?”

“Oh, it was… fine.”

“Simon said ye were goin’ to catch up on some sleep?”

“Yeah, I didn’t.” You laugh, and he smiles. “I feel okay though. Still awake at least.”

“I’m glad… ye came. I’m sorry if the other night, I was too… forward.”

“That’s okay. You’re just… so flirty, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” You tease, expecting to get a lighthearted quip in response, or a laugh, but he gives you neither, only a serious, sympathetic expression.

“I didnae mean to make ye uncomfortable. Felt terrible, when ye ran off, I-“

“I’m fine, Johnny. You… you didn’t. I mean, it was just… confusing, this is… this is a lot.” He nods.

“I know it is.”

“And you don’t even know me.” His brow creases, focus narrowed in so tightly on you, white walls, white hospital blanket, white everything falling away in a spiral of color.

“I know ye better than ye might think." He cracks a smile. "We want to, if ye’d let us.” No, you don’t. You almost say it. Almost promise him that knowing you would be the stuff of their nightmares, that they have no idea what they’re trying to bite into, or bite off, a near guarantee that it would be than they could chew.

“Well, no harm in making new friends, right?” You entreat weakly, and his eyes flash, ethos of an entire life that you have no knowledge of slipping through, and the dark severity rumbling in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine.

“Aye, bun. Especially when they look like ye in a pair of jeans.”

Dinner is an idyllic affair. Johnny’s favorite takeaway turns out, is Indian, like yours, and the three of you talk for hours, trading bites back and forth, laughing and listening to stories, discovering little bits and pieces about their lives while running interference on personal questions about yourself, allowing them to dip in skin deep, skimming off the top but never getting further. They tell you about themselves, Penelope, their jobs, how they met, and Johnny confides in you about his sketchbook collection, pages upon pages of charcoal and pencil line work, portraits of Simon and Pen covering each page, landscapes, and the occasional cartoon. Your spine eventually starts to wilt, muscles liquifying into goo that can barely hold you upright, and you curl up in the armchair, chin on your palm, listening to the ebb and flow of their voices as they tell you a particular story about how they came to find their current home, a near slapstick comedy about an interaction with the previous owner. Their voices soothe your restless mind, wrap you in a cozy embrace that feels so safe, so comfortable that you can’t fight the languid, siren call of sleep, eyes drooping into darkness, drifting away on their melodies, content and too tired to rationally put together what’s happening. At some point, something covers you up, knit warmth that is tucked in around your shoulders, your feet, a tender touch on your neck and cheek. A whisper of affection soothes the unease that lurks in the background of it all, and you fall into it lazily, farther into the hold of sleep, something your brain and body are desperate for.

When the lights go dim, you don’t even realize, already lost to the sand of slumber.

Around midnight, you wake with a start. Your heart is racing, triple timing in your chest, and you squint in the dark, trying to parse together where you are, what happened.

Oh no. Oh god, did you fall asleep on them? Did you fall asleep in Johnny’s room?

Simon calls your name. He’s settled in a recliner, head turned your direction, mellow light from the little lamp spilling across his features. “Are you alright?” Your mouth is dry, the web of sleep that holds you in suspension finally starting to wane, fuzzy clouds in your head trying to clear without much luck.

“How long was I out?”

“Four hours.”

“I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head.

“Wanted to let you sleep. I know you were tired, and Johnny was out almost immediately after you.”

“Th-thanks.” Your back groans, muscle and bone grinding together, stiff from sleeping in a cramped position for hours, and you’re surprisingly unsteady on your feet. Simon’s out of his chair in a second, turning around the end of Johnny’s bed to offer you a hand, his other lightly resting between your shoulder blades.

“Easy.”

“Sorry… just… think ‘m more tired than I realized.” It’s dark, and you’re disorientated, woozy, tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth, limbs and lids still heavy and desperate to fall back asleep.

“I’ll drive you home.” His keys jingle, and you know you should reject him, refute this presumption, push him off, but you can’t string the right words together in your mind, can’t bring yourself to truculently pull away.

So, you don’t. And to your surprise, your shock, it feels… nice. You let him open the door for you, get you settled, you listen to his music on the way, city flying past outside the window, quiet hour of the night crawling by. You let him help you out of the car when you pull up to the curb, and when he asks if he can walk you up, your rational pugnacity is nowhere to be found.

“This is me.” You gesture to the door, fumbling in your wallet for your keycard.

“How long have you been in the hotel?”

“Oh, not long. Reno just started so…” His head turns, surveilling the hallway. You’re in an end room, far from the elevator but close to the stairs, as requested, and there’s a camera that sits on the ceiling, green dot consistently blinking. He glances at it, then back to you, head tilted.

“Are you safe here?” The world goes cold. Your stomach roils, blood draining from your face, and you try to hold yourself steady, mind turning over a million times. You’re overreacting. He’s just asking in a general sense. He doesn’t know. He couldn’t. Breathe. Deep breath.

“I uh, yeah. It’s got a deadbolt.” Along with a door stop alarm, and a security bar. He steps closer, so close that you can smell him, fresh laundry and musk, something spicy lingering there, something dark and enchanting.

“Are you in trouble, little bunny?” You’re in his shadow, beneath the stretch of a mountain, shielded by it, by a monolith so large it could blot out the sun. It overwhelms you, slows the racing pace of your mind, and you try to sort through the merry go round of feelings that are all trying to push their way out of your mouth.

You’ve never felt this. Never felt this… desire, to entrust someone with your life. Never felt this… attraction, this hold that the two of them have on you.

It makes you want to trust them. Makes you want to lay it all out and beg them to help you. Makes you want to close your eyes and leap, praying they’ll catch you.

It’s wicked. It’s dangerous. It’s a fool’s errand.

It’s unfair.

“No.” You whisper. You can’t look at him, and time slows in the silence, your anxiety piquing. Of course, he would assume something is wrong, after witnessing the panic attack. Don’t read too far into it.

“But you wouldn’t tell me if you were, would you?” He’s pragmatic, yet still kind, watching you with intent. It doesn’t allay any of the stress that’s building up the back of your throat and closing it, cutting you off from the oxygen you desperately need.

After an eon, he sighs.

“Okay, sweetheart. You can keep your secrets. For now.” You choke.

“I… I should probably-“ you jerk your head towards the door, half turning away to swipe your keycard.

“Alright.” He moves carefully, dipping low, and you stand immobilized, confused and quivering as his cloth covered mouth presses a slow kiss to the top of your head. It’s like he’s bewitched you, cursed you, and you can’t do anything but stand there, stunned. “Thanks for coming tonight.” You’re a deer in headlights, a rabbit in a scope.

“Simon.” His name is the only thing you know right now, and it comes out reedy, almost a squeak.

“Get some rest. We’ll text you tomorrow.” He pushes the door wide, arm snaked behind your shoulders, and when you don’t move, he urges you forward, an encouraging hand on the small of your back. Your feet blindly stumble through the motions, searching for the light switch, for your sanity. “Goodnight, bun.” He hums, and the door clicks shut, leaving you alone, staring at the beige-yellow paint on the wall.

The afternoon trains are packed. It makes your skin crawl, not because you dislike busy or hectic places, but because there are too many eyes. You force your head to stay up, casually scrolling past the faces that are turned every which way, keeping your back to a corner or window as often as possible. You’re not sure you even needed to take this route, the one where you loop around and change trains twice, but… old habits die hard.

You’re lighter today, mentally. It’s in your steps on the stairs, the way you tilt your face up to the sun, how you bounce and bob a little along to the rhythm in your headphones.

You try not to read into it, too much. You tell yourself it has nothing to do with the good morning text messages from Johnny and Simon, or the hilarious back and forth between them after Simon sent a god-awful joke to the group chat. It has nothing to do with the heat that spreads through your fingers to toes when you think about Simon last night, kissing your forehead.

You slip inside your apartment, popping your headphones free, glancing at the tape and the door jam, before setting your bag on the counter. You idly sort through some mail you left out the other day. Junk, junk, junk, nothing taxing or important, nothing work related or-

A shadow moves. It flickers against the wall by your bedroom, growing larger, stalking closer to the kitchen, to where you stand, frozen, heart pounding in your ears.

This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.

“Hey there, sugar.” He croons, the thick, Texas accent unmistakable, and you breathe his name in horror.

“Phillip.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader x ghost #simon riley #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x reader

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museanddream · 2 months ago

Text

One Night - part 2 || Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze x Reader

Summary: When you complete a dream transfer to Barcelona, there’s only one problem - you have to learn to coexist with your ex-hookup and her new girlfriend.

Warnings: 🔞 | fingering, oral sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, degrading language

Word count: 3.8k

Part 2 / ?

part 1 here

Instead of going straight in for the kiss when Ona asks you for it, you continue to take your time, savouring the moment. One of your hands, previously running up and down Ona’s thighs, rises to her head, tracing the back of your fingers against her cheek before tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and cupping her jaw.

Ona’s eyelids are heavy with want now, her lips slightly parted in anticipation of a kiss, while you think you can feel the way she’s putting all her effort into not rutting her hips against your lap.

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper into the space between your lips. “I’ve thought about this a lot too. Ever since I joined the team, every time you smiled at me, every time you helped me, there’s been a part of me that wondered what it’d be like to have you.”

You’re acutely aware of Lucy’s presence on the other side of the room, but you’re not fazed by making the admission in front of her.

“In fact, if I knew you wanted this too, I would’ve made sure it happened a lot sooner.”

Ona’s eyelashes flutter and you can hear the shaky breath she lets out, before uttering again, “Please.”

You’ve never heard Ona sound like that, a slight whimper in her voice. You want to hear it over and over again.

As your lips meet Ona’s for the first time, there’s a brief moment of panic when you realise that you’re kissing someone in front of their girlfriend, then all that washes away as you realise that you’re kissing Ona.

Her lips are impossibly soft. Softer than they have any right to be. You almost lose yourself right there, if not for the tiny voice in the back of your mind telling you to enjoy this and do it right.

There’ll be time to lose control later.

As it is, your hand tightens slightly against Ona’s jaw, fingers toying with the soft baby hairs at the nape of her neck while your lips coax Ona’s mouth open. She’s pliant against you and when you swipe your tongue into her mouth a second later, you swallow the soft moan that escapes her throat.

Your other hand, resting fairly innocently on Ona’s upper thigh, slides back to cup her ass. Her hands, draped over your shoulders, respond by cupping your face and deepening the kiss, the wet slide of her tongue against yours eliciting a gasp from you.

You squeeze her ass through her shorts in an attempt to get her closer and the result is that she grinds down into your lap. But the problem isn’t that Ona isn’t close enough, it’s the layers of clothing in your way.

Breaking the kiss, you move both hands to Ona’s waist and start to lift the hem of her shirt. Ona is only too happy to help, tugging her t-shirt over her head in record time and flinging it behind her with very little care for where it actually ends up.

Chuckling at her eagerness, though pleased with the ego boost it gives you, you stroke a hand down her cheek and say, “You’re desperate for this, aren’t you? Does Lucy not give you enough attention?” You pause, wondering how hard you can push this, then decide to go for it anyway. “Does she not fuck you well enough?”

“Watch it,” Lucy warns you from the other side of the room.

You drag your gaze across to Lucy for the first time since Ona sat in your lap and challenge her with your eyes.

“Or what?”

You know from personal experience just how much fun it can be to wind Lucy up, what kind of dominant mood she gets in when her buttons are pushed in the bedroom. It’s the competitiveness in her, she likes to win everything and doesn’t like it when she’s not in control.

So you know exactly what you’re doing by questioning her sexual prowess, the kind of reaction you’re hoping it’ll provoke from her later. You’re just banking on the fact that she loves her girlfriend enough to wait until after Ona has gotten at least a little bit of what she wants from you before Lucy decides she has a point to prove.

“You’re talking a lot for somebody who’s barely even touched Ona yet,” Lucy challenges you right back.

And if Lucy wants to play it like that, then so be it.

“I am touching her, though,” you point out, as your fingers drop to the button on the front of Ona’s shorts to deftly pop it open.

You scratch your nails lightly against Ona’s abs and she twitches away from the touch when you pass over a ticklish spot. When your hand reaches the waistband of her underwear where her shorts now hang open, you pause.

“Can I?”

“Sí,” Ona answers breathlessly.

You don’t need further encouragement. Your fingers dip past the elastic and lower still as you touch her for the first time.

“Oh,” you say, as your fingers encounter the abundant wetness between Ona’s legs. You could tell that she was turned on, but didn’t expect her to be quite so wet already. “Who’s all this for? Who gets you this wet? Me or Lucy?”

Distracted by your fingertips, Ona starts slowly rocking her hips in an effort to get some friction and you’re just about to prompt her again for an answer when she lets out a breathy, “You.”

You reward Ona briefly by brushing against her clit, but then withdraw your hand from her underwear completely. Making deliberate eye contact with Lucy past Ona’s shoulder, you bring your shiny fingers to your lips and make an exaggerated show of licking them clean of Ona’s slick.

Lucy’s jaw clenches as she struggles not to say something but you can tell from the look in her eyes that she’s turned on as much as she might be jealous.

You’ll feel her wrath later, you’re sure of it, but instead of letting yourself get too excited about that, you turn your attention back to Ona.

Stroking the back of your fingers, sticky now with the remnants of your saliva, down Ona’s cheek, you ask, “Show me to your bedroom?”

Ona gives you a look like she’s about to beg you to fuck her right here on the couch and to be honest, if she asked you to then you’d do just that, but then she slides off your lap and reaches for your hand to help you to your feet.

She starts to lead you towards the door but you use your joined hands to pull her close, drawing her in for another kiss.

It starts out as a performance for Lucy, your hand sliding down the back of Ona’s shorts and your teeth catching her lower lip to draw out a gasp, but Ona’s free hand claws at your waist and her tongue swipes into your mouth and suddenly Ona is all you can think about.

She clings to you like she needs you to survive, like she might melt away without you there to ground her, but you’re having a pretty tough time keeping yourself present too. Ona is just everything and everywhere, fingers digging into your sides, tongue sliding against yours, the soft noises that escape from her lips between kisses rushing straight to your brain like a drug.

Maybe it’s for the best that Lucy seems happy to simply spectate for now. You might lose your mind completely when she eventually decides to join in.

“Bedroom?” you mumble against Ona’s lips.

“This way,” Ona answers breathlessly.

She leads you down the hall, pretty much dragging you through the door into the bedroom, only letting go of your hand so that she can sit on the edge of the bed and look up and you pleadingly with those big eyes.

You aren’t sure if Lucy is following until you hear soft footsteps right behind you, which gives you just a split second warning for the strong hand that grabs you by the neck and pushes you into the wall, fingers wrapped around your throat just tightly enough to assert control.

Lucy doesn’t speak but the message is clear in her eyes. Remember who she belongs to.

And then Lucy leans in, kissing you suddenly.

It’s immediately more intense than the kisses you exchanged with Ona. Lucy doesn’t do anything half-heartedly and kissing is no different. With a point to prove, she catches your lower lip between her teeth until you’re gasping, then swipes her tongue into your mouth, her grip tightening slightly around your throat. It’s not enough to choke you, but just enough to remind you of her strength and attempt to assert her dominance over you before you fuck her girlfriend.

With Lucy’s lips on yours, you’re immediately taken back several years. The kiss is so familiar, so Lucy. The way her mouth glides against yours, the way her tongue plunders your mouth and makes you weak at the knees, is a reminder of all the reasons why it worked between you all those years ago, but also why it didn’t.

You were both too passionate, too competitive, too stubborn when it came to admitting you were wrong, for it to ever work as anything more than friends with benefits. Of course, that all translated into some pretty damn good sex, the likes of which you’ve never quite been able to match with any of the girls you’ve been with since Lucy.

Then there’s Ona. Just as passionate, just as competitive, but with a softer edge. She matches Lucy’s playful side but also complements Lucy’s stubbornness with pure affection. Their hearteyes in training sometimes makes you nauseous but now, having been kissed by them both in such quick succession, you think you understand exactly why their relationship works, exactly why they’re so head over heels in love with each other.

And you’re starting to understand where you fit into all this. You’ll do anything for Ona if she pleads and flashes those beautiful brown eyes at you, you’ll challenge Lucy where Ona might just submit willingly. Lucy and Ona may be perfect for each other but there’s a place for you too, even if it’s only for one night.

Maybe what you and Lucy were missing all those years ago was Ona.

“Go on then,” Lucy says, relinquishing her grip around your throat and giving you a little nudge towards the bed where Ona is patiently waiting. “Show her what you’ve got.”

Ona has kicked off her shorts fully now and lies on the bed in just her underwear, legs bent at the knees and slightly parted as she props her weight up on her elbows behind her. The lust in her eyes from watching Lucy kiss you is obvious and acts as an invitation that you can’t turn down.

Crawling onto the bed, you tug your own t-shirt over your head. Your eyes rove down her body, taking in the lean muscles, the freckles that decorate every inch of skin, the way that her knees widen to allow you to settle between her legs.

“Beautiful,” you tell her.

Ona breaks eye contact, blushing under your praise.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” you tease her, covering her body with your own and placing your palms flat on the mattress on either side of her head to hold your weight above her. “Not when we’re just getting started.”

Ona’s hand comes up to your now bare waist, fingers digging into your side as you lean down to kiss her again. The hot slide of your tongue against hers draws a gasp from Ona and she hooks an eager leg around your hip, trying to draw you even closer. You allow it, adjusting your position so that one of your thighs makes contact with Ona’s clothed pussy, letting her grind against the muscle of your leg, pressed so tightly together that you can feel how wet she is through the thin cotton of her underwear.

Breaking the kiss but continuing to rock slowly against her, you ask, “You’ve wanted this for a while, yes?”

Ona nods, then says, “Sí.” You feel the hot puff of breath as she exhales against your face.

“What do you want? Tell me.”

“You. This.”

“Just this?” you ask, already knowing the answer. “Be more specific. Tell me exactly what you want.”

Ona doesn’t tell you, but she does reach for your hand, wrapping her fingers around your wrist and guiding you between her legs. You adjust slightly to give yourself enough room to slip your hand past the waistband of her underwear, and though you’ve already touched her here once, you still sigh in delight at the wetness that immediately coats your fingertips.

“Like this?” you ask her, exploring without any real purpose, though the little gasp that Ona lets out when you brush across her clit sends a jolting reminder of your own arousal between your legs.

“Yes,” Ona encourages you. “And…”

She trails off, head falling back against the pillow and eyes shut in bliss. When she doesn’t continue, you pause the exploration of your fingers, needing to know what else she was going to say.

“And what?”

Ona’s eyelashes flutter open and she holds your gaze for a few long seconds, before she tilts her head to the side in embarrassment as she murmurs, “And … inside.”

You withdraw your hand entirely, though only so you can sit back on your feet and pull Ona’s underwear down her legs. She helps you, bringing her legs up closer to her chest and kicking them away when it gets caught around one of her ankles, until her lower half is completely bare for you.

“Spread your legs for me,” you instruct Ona. Remembering that Lucy is in the room too, you add, “Show Lucy how wet you are.”

Ona pushes her knees outwards to obey your instructions and you admire her glistening folds, hardly able to believe that Ona is this turned on, mostly because of you.

You glance across at Lucy for her reaction. She’s settled herself comfortably into the chair in the corner and seems content to stay there for the perfect view while you fuck her girlfriend.

“Please,” Ona whines, drawing your attention back to her.

It’s an ego boost to have Ona begging for you already, and almost as much of a turn-on to hear the way that Lucy speaks up from behind you again and says, “Desperate little slut. Go on, fuck her before she actually explodes.”

The last bit is directed at you and while a part of you doesn’t like that Lucy already thinks she can tell you what to do, especially when you’re the one who has got her girlfriend pleading to be touched, your own interest in giving Ona what she wants wins out over any desire to chat back to Lucy.

You settle between Ona’s legs, taking your time to get comfortable as you lift her legs over your shoulders so you can wrap your arms around her strong thighs. She’s pliant under your touch, letting you easily coax her into position, and you reward her by forgoing the teasing, leaning straight in to lick one long stroke of your tongue through her folds from bottom to top.

Her hips buck off the bed and you link your hands together across her stomach to hold her down as you wrap your lips around her clit. You flutter your tongue against her, showing off for Ona at first, but when she jerks against your grip and lets out another throaty groan, you repeat the motion for Lucy’s benefit this time, pleased with the reactions you’re able to draw from her girlfriend.

Ona tastes divine. The sounds that ripple from her throat are as sweet as honey. If you could stay here, between her legs forever, then you would.

Exploring her slowly, you take note of the things that pull the best reactions from her, but not yet committing to any kind of meaningful rhythm. You’re happy to savour each moan, each jerk of her hips, without wanting to rush her towards any kind of climax.

You’re so caught up in the taste of Ona on your tongue that you almost forget about the other person in the room until Lucy speaks up.

“Are you inside her yet?” Lucy asks. “She likes to feel full. She’ll come quickly like that.”

You’d been quite content exploring Ona at your own pace as you discover what she likes and your instinct is to point that out to Lucy. But then one of Ona’s hands finds the back of your head, urging you to give her more.

And Ona’s pleasure is more important than scoring points against Lucy.

You move your head enough to give yourself the space to bring a hand into the mix. Ona whines at the momentary loss of contact, blunt nails clawing at your scalp, but that whine slips into a filthy groan when she feels your fingertips probe at her entrance.

“Sí,” she rasps. “Inside.”

You push inside with one finger, sliding in easily from how wet Ona is. She responds straight away with another moan and you only give her a few thrusts to adjust before you’re adding a second, eager to test Lucy’s comment about Ona liking to feel full. Sure enough, her hips buck up into your hand, so you use the other one, still splayed across Ona’s lower abdomen, to hold her down as you start working your tongue against her clit again.

“Fuck,” Ona exhales, flinging an arm across her face as she tries to writhe against you, then lets out a string of Catalan that you don’t understand, but you’re pretty sure you can still grasp the general meaning of.

“Does she feel good?” Lucy’s voice, somehow even deeper than usual, rasps from behind you.

You curl your fingers on the next thrust, drawing another broken groan from Ona’s throat.

“Sí,” Ona chokes out in response to her girlfriend’s question.

“How good?” Lucy asks. “Tell us. Tell her.”

You smile against Ona’s clit, mostly at how familiar this all feels. Lucy was exactly the same when you were sleeping with her before, never content to simply have the evidence of your arousal coating her fingers or lips, she would always demand for the extra ego boost of making you tell her before she allowed you to come.

“So good,” Ona answers. Her accent sounds thicker to you, her Spanish lilt somehow even more melodic than usual. “Feel so full. Fuck, I think I might come.”

Encouraged by Ona’s confession, and also wanting to show off to Lucy a little bit that you can get her girlfriend off in record time, you double down in your efforts, wrapping your lips around her clit again as your fingers increase their tempo.

“You close, yeah?” Lucy asks.

“Yes,” Ona hisses, her hips bucking in time with your thrusts. “Please, Lucy.”

You curl your fingers against the spot that made Ona writhe earlier, wanting to remind her that it should be your name falling from her lips.

Unexpectedly, Lucy seems to be on your side.

“Oh baby,” she lets out a little laugh. “It’s not me you should be asking.”

As you gaze up Ona’s body, past the ridges of her abs and the pretty flush on her chest and neck, she looks back down at you and your gazes meet. There’s a raw desperation in her eyes, almost like she’s on the verge of tears, like her world might actually end if she isn��t given permission to come in the next ten seconds.

Her hand tightens in your hair, holding you close against her, then Ona lets out a breathy, “Please.”

Continuing to pump your fingers into her, you lift your mouth to ask, “Please what?”

“Want to come,” Ona gasps. “You feel so good. Please let me come.”

You latch your lips around her clit and suckle gently in time with the rhythm of your fingers with one goal in mind. You want her to come, perhaps even more than she wants to come herself, and you can feel that she’s getting close from the way that she’s starting to tighten around your fingers.

“Go on,” you murmur against her. “I know you’re close. Come for me.”

As you return your tongue to her clit and curl your fingers, pulsing your fingertips against that spot inside her, you feel the dam break a split second before it actually does.

Ona comes with a debauched cry that fills the bedroom. With the fingers of one hand inside her, working her through the orgasm, your other hand isn’t strong enough on its own to hold her down. Her back arches, hips lifting off the bed as it wrecks her. You keep your mouth on her, your fingers steadily working her through the peak of it until it ebbs away into pure sensitivity, Ona collapsing spent against the bed as the hand in your hair tries to tug you away.

You press your lips against her inner thigh as you withdraw your fingers, gentle kisses against soft skin as the muscles beneath stop trembling.

After a few moments, Ona’s hand on the back of your head pulls at your hair again, trying to coax you up her body. And enamoured by the sight in front of you, Ona’s skin flushed and sheened with sweat, chest rising and falling as she catches her breath, and a look in her eyes that’s half-softness and half-hunger that tells you she’s still not satisfied with only having you once, you oblige her and crawl up the bed to meet her lips in a languid kiss.

“You good?” you murmur against her mouth, though the way that Ona hums at the taste of herself on your lips and keeps that hand firm in your hair to stop you from pulling away already gives you the answer.

You kiss each other lazily, without the same urgency as before, but far more intimately than you’ve ever kissed a first-time hookup before.

But because it’s Ona, it just feels right.

Ona bends one of her knees and hooks a leg around your hips. The wet smear you immediately feel against your thigh brings you right back into what this is. What you’ve just done, what’s yet to come, and perhaps most significantly, the thrum of arousal that aches between your own legs.

Pulling back from the kiss, though letting one of your hands drop to Ona’s thigh to keep it wrapped around you, you lean your forehead against Ona’s and murmur into the space between you.

“I want to fuck you with a strap. Would that be okay?”

Ona’s breath hitches in her throat, before she answers.

“Please.”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso smut #ona batlle x reader #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze x ona batlle x reader #woso fanfics

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months ago

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Sick III

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Magda gets sick

"Momma," You say, hopping down the last step," Morsa's throwing up in the bathroom again."

Pernille looks up from the stove and sighs. "I thought I told you that you weren't meant to go looking for Morsa?"

You shrug. "I didn't go looking for her."

Pernille doesn't believe you in the slightest.

Magda had come down with some sickness, likely the flu, a few days ago. It had started off as just an inconvenience, a stuffy nose and a few headaches. Then came the throwing up and Magda being forced to lean over the toilet bowl for a few hours in the night when she was meant to be sleeping.

Pernille knew it was wishful thinking to hope that the sickness remained with Magda only but you were a bit of a nightmare when it came to getting sick so she wanted to limit the chance of you catching it as much as possible.

If only you understood that because since Magda's sudden illness, you seem to have gotten incredibly clingy towards her like you don't want to stray out of her sight for whatever reason.

Pernille purses her lips as she looks at you, stirring the soup in the pot as she ponders what to do next.

"Why don't you have tv time?" She asks, finally settling on something to keep you occupied.

You don't get a lot of tv time, at least not where you're in control of the tv. You've never really craved it when you could play with girl-swan and girl-moose or kick a football around the garden.

But still, you're a little kid and kids love tv.

"I think Scooby Doo is on."

You think for a moment before your face twists into something akin to annoyance. "I don't like German Scooby Doo," You say," Can I watch Ben 10 instead?"

"Yeah, we can do that."

Pernille sets you up with an episode of Ben 10 in German and you settle on the sofa to watch it. With you now occupied, she sneaks up with a bowl of chicken soup just as Magda makes her way back to bed.

"You look...better."

"Don't lie." It's nice to see that Magda's humour is still there. "Is this for me?"

"Chicken soup." Pernille hands the bowl over. "You should probably wait for it to start cooling down."

"I'll be fine," Magda says," It's not like I can taste it so the heat might be the only enjoyable thing about it."

"How are you feeling? Do you need more medicine?"

"Can't take any yet. Hasn't been four hours but I'll be fine. I spoke to Linda. She said the throwing up only lasts a day. I'll be alright by tomorrow."

"Still," Pernille says," Eat your soup and drink lots of water. We're meant to be setting a good example to Princesse."

The corners of Magda's mouth quirks up a little. "Where is she? You know, I'd feel a lot better if she's here?"

Pernille rolls her eyes, scoffing. "Oh, I see. When I'm sick, I can't see her so she doesn't get infected but when you're sick, you can see her all you want? How is that fair?"

Her tone is teasing and Magda flashes a wolfish grin.

"Swedes don't infect Swedes. It's a rule."

"Well, it's great that she's Danish too, huh? No Princesse time for you until-"

"Hey, Princesse. What have you got there?"

Pernille whips her head around to see you standing by the door, clutching the little first aid kit that's usually hidden in the bathroom cabinet.

"I thought you were watching Ben 10?" She says as you come in, clambering up onto the bed and sitting on Magda's outstretched legs.

"Got bored," You reply, forcing the zip open and rummaging through it," I'm gonna make Morsa better though."

"She's sick, Princesse," Pernille says," Are you sure? You can get sick too."

You give Pernille the biggest judgemental look you can manage. "I know, Momma. I'm not silly. But I'm still going to make Morsa better."

In all honesty, Pernille is a little intrigued about how you're going to make Magda feel better with the first aid kit so she doesn't push anymore for you to leave the room.

"Does your head hurt?"

"Yes."

You bring out one of the bandages, winding it around Magda's head and tucking the end into itself.

"There you go!" You say," Now your head won't hurt. Does your throat hurt too?"

Magda nods.

You whip out one of the big plasters that's meant for big cuts and grazes on the knee and place it over Magda's mouth, making sure it's completely secure.

"You need to stop talking," You tell her sternly," Because that makes your throat hurt." You turn to Pernille. "Momma, I fixed her!"

Pernille has to force down her laughter at the bewildered expression on Magda's face.

"I can see that," Pernille says," We should leave Morsa alone now so she can recover. You did a good job."

You nod. "I know." You blow Magda a kiss. "I can't kiss you because then I'll get sick," You tell her," So have air kisses!"

You blow more kisses at Magda and shuffle off the bed, taking Pernille's hand.

"Can we finish watching Ben 10, Momma? It's a really good episode!"

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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charlieleclerc16 · 6 months ago

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A game of UNO*

Summary: Charles and Y/N play a game of strip UNO. The rules are of course made up by Charles himself.

Pairing: bestfriend!Charles x reader

Word count: 4K

Warnings: No actual smut, as in P in V. Just a LOT of tension and ofc sexual topics such as stripping, making out, boners etc.

A/N: I guess I am now writing for Charles too. This story is originally posted on my other blog, so if it's familiar.. That's why lol. Also, funfact, I actually played a game of UNO with myself to get these cards to be accurate haha

Like they say; as we mature, the relationship matures with us. And so does the friendship between Y/N and Charles. The countless weekends going out to pubs are now spent mostly in the comfort of their own homes playing board games and watching movies. Of course, they liked to go out and drink, and God they still drink quite a lot. But they don’t care for loud music and sweaty people all around them.

Nearly every weekend, when there are no races, they come together and spend time like they always do. Downing a few bottles of white, munching on a delicious charcuterie platter, and just enjoying each other’s company. Today was like no other. Charles perched down in the corner of the comfy sofa and Y/N is getting the glasses ready for the delicious liquid.

“Can we watch The Notebook tonight?” Y/N said as she walked into her living room with two wine glasses and the bottle of white she had been craving all day. Charles simply chuckles and gives her a judgemental look. “What?” She asks him.

“Haven’t we seen that movie like a billion times already?” He laughs. Secretly Charles is a sucker for a good romance movie and Y/N is all too familiar with his preferences. When they were both still in their teen years and just met in school, Y/N had never seen The Notebook before and Charles insisted she needed to see it.

“I mean yes, but you know I love this movie.” Y/N states, remote control in her hand to turn on the movie with a smirk on her face. She lets out a sneaky giggle, getting all comfy against his body stretched out on the sofa. Charles’ strong arm wraps around her body so naturally. His delicious scent immediately relaxing her.

* * * Halfway through the movie, Charles gets bored. Each of them are two glasses of wine in and Charles is just ready for some action. He lifts his body off of the sofa making Y/N whine at the loss of contact. He makes his way to her board game stash. His feet drag across the floor and his hips sway from left to right, dancing his way to the cabinet. She laughs at him, the dork.

“What are you doing?” She questions, he is so cute dancing around your living room with his glass in his hand.

“I am done watching that movie, again. I wanna play a game.” He says with a mischievous smirk across his face. The little twinkle in his eyes tells her he really is up to no good. He opens the top drawer of the board game cabinet and pushes around some of the stuff in there.

“Ah! There it is.” Charles chuckles. He turns around holding the pack of UNO in his right hand. He brings it back over to the coffee table and opens up the little box as he sits down on the floor.

“You don’t want to watch a movie we’ve seen a billion times yet you do want to play a game we have played a billion times?” She questions Charles, although she has a feeling that there’s a catch. The look on his face tells her he is not about to propose a simple game of UNO.

“See, you got that wrong baby.” The smirk on his face is only growing bigger and bigger. “There's a twist.” The scared look on Y/N’s face is priceless to Charles. She grabs the remote control to press pause, putting all her attention on the man in front of her.

“How about we add some spicy rules to the game?” The room falls silent aside from the heavy breathing escaping her lips.

“What do you mean, Charles?” She whispers.

“I think you know exactly what I mean.” He says as he starts shuffling the cards. “Okay so, since it’s just the two of us, we shouldn’t’ make too many additions. How about every time you can match a numbered card or wild card with the most recently played card, the other person has to take off one clothing item.” His gaze never leaves her eyes. He starts dealing the cards as if he expects her to just go along with his plan. “Let’s also say for every +2 played, the other person also has to take off one item instead of drawing two cards.” And that’s how the rules are played out.

“I don’t know, Charles.” She says looking down at the cards as she picks them up in her hand one by one. Her first card is a yellow 1. She looks at the second card before she adds it to her hand, a red reverse card. The third card she picks up has her widening her eyes, a yellow +2. She picks up the rest of the cards and she joins Charles on the floor beside the coffee table. She has already decided to play along.

“What if this ruins our friendship?” She asks.

“Then we’ll stop being friends.” Charles chuckles, lust covering his eyes.

“We can’t stop being friends just because of a game of UNO, dummy.”

“What if afterwards, you don’t want to be friends because you want to be more than that.” The flirty smirk on his face is weakening her entire body. Fuck. She’s had the longest crush on the man in front of her. Her whole body is yearning to be close to him. Of course, she wants to be way more than that.

“This would have to be the most seductive game of UNO for that to happen.” She tries to shrug off the nerves in her body. Not really doing a great job at just that.

“Shut up and play your first card.”

Charles flips over the top card of the deck. A green 1 lying flat on the table. She takes a look at the cards in her hand. There’s no green so she decides on a yellow 1. She places down the card and a hissing sound coming from Charles’ lips pulls her attention to his eyes. The look on his face looks like pure mischief. His long fingers drag through his cards. He pinches one of them in between his thumb and pointer finger with a big smirk on his lips. God, he looks so kissable.

She takes a big chug from her glass. Charles slams down his card, showing the yellow 1 matching your card perfectly.

“I would’ve never guessed I’d be getting you out of your clothes so quickly.” His voice was low and husky. Her wine glass barely touches the table before she brings it back to her lips for another chug making Charles chuckle at her nerves.

She thinks for a second before she hooks her fingers on the welt of her right sock. Her knees press into her chest and she takes both socks off, one by one.

“Hold on, this isn’t fair. You’re wearing more clothes than I am.” Charles states as she see his brain calculating. They’re both wearing socks, jeans and a T-shirt. But Charles refers to what’s underneath that. Suddenly she feel thankful for deciding on wearing a bra today, because that’s not a given for every day.

“Well, I guess that’s just my advantage of being forced to strip for you.” She shrugs.

“I did not force you.” He pouts making her giggle. She looks at the table to check back in with the card that’s last been played before diving back into her cards. She can’t help but let the slightest smirk appear on her lips before she plays the yellow +2 in her hands.

“Fuck.” Charles laughed. “Off with the socks we go.” He continues as he takes both of them off in a swift motion. He adds them to where her socks are piled up together.

Charles looks in his cards. There is a red +2 in his hand which he could just play right now but he decides to keep that one in his hand for a little longer. Instead, he pulls out a yellow 5.

Y/N sighs, feeling relieved that she doesn’t have to get rid of any more clothes right now. The anxious yet thrilling feeling is riling her up. She have never felt any excitement like this before. Charles and Y/N have been friends since forever and she has had the biggest crush on him for nearly as long. Her eyes always lingered a bit too long when they went to swimming together and he was in just his swimming trunks. Or the goosebumps his touch left on her skin as his fingers danced along her arm as a small sign of affection. Friendly affection, but it still made her feel all sorts of ways.

Both of them play a couple of cards before Charles has a big smirk plastered across his face again. Uh oh. His fingers stride along his cards again before he picks one. He places a red 7 on top of your blue 7.

“Wouldn’t it be fun if your seven was blue too?” He says as he scooches a bit closer, their legs now touching.

“Stooop, you make me nervous.” She blushes.

“Don’t be. It’s just me.” Charles reassures her and wraps his empty hand around her ankle. His thumb moves in soft strokes up and down. She knows he tries to calm her down but every stroke of his thumb is sent straight to her clit.

Y/N plays a red reverse card. Allowing her to play another card since it’s a two-player game of UNO. She’s all out of red so she draws a card, a red 4. She places it down and look back up to Charles who still has his hand on her ankle.

“Isn’t that fortunate?” Charles teases.

“Just from you saying that, I know there’s nothing fortunate about it for me.” She mumbles as she frightens the next card that he will put on the table.

Charles has a twinkle in his eyes looking at the card in his hand. The red +2 is going to get rid of her first clothing item that’ll actually reveal some skin. Charles too had been pining over her for years. He started loving her in a bit more than just a friendly kind of way around the age of 16. Now 10 years later, nothing had changed. Both of them had been dating people, trying to distract themselves from the massive crushes on each other. But at the end of the day, they always came back to each other.

He finally places his card down, an excited look on his face. But she quickly takes her green +2 and smack it down on the table.

“Hah!” She yelps. “That makes two items for you to be gone!”

“Nah-ah, baby. Haven’t you read the rules before?” He states. “We both have to get rid of one item.” Charles smirks. Mr know it all, why does he know all rules of UNO? Probably because they have played it so many times.

“+2 plus +2 equals drawing four cards. Simple.” She argues but Charles already pulled out the rules from the box. He reads out the bit about how when your opponent plays a +2 card, you have to draw two cards and afterwards may continue your turn. Y/N is kind of sad that Charles isn’t going to get rid of both his jeans AND t-shirt.

Charles takes hold of the hem of his shirt with both his arms crossed before he drags the fabric over his head. In the meantime, she stands up to unbutton her jeans. She gets distracted by the beautiful sight in front of her. His abs are gorgeously on display his toned skin is like a piece of art. Charles had always been hot. But the more he started driving, the more he started working out. And damn did it do wonders for his body.

“What are you doing?” Charles asks as he throws his shirt on top of both of their socks. He softly chuckles at her eyes staring down at his torso.

“Ehm, sorry. I was taking off my jeans.” She states, causing Charles to groan. He shakes his head in a disapproving way. “What?” She asks him.

“Should’ve just taken off your shirt like I did.” He mumbles before he picks up his cards from the table. His eyes go from the discard pile on the table to the cards in his hand. There are no more green cards in his hand so he draws a card. Luckily it’s a green one so he places it on the pile.

“Hmpf, nah. I’ll keep my shirt on for a bit longer.” She mumbles softly. Being shirtless always makes her feel so exposed. Her insecurities would peak without a shirt so she’d rather keep it on for as long as possible. Charles notices how she tries to hide herself. His hand finds its place back on her ankle and slowly travels up to her calf, stroking up and down.

“You have no idea how god damn beautiful you are, do you?” He reassures and she tries to shrug it off.

Both of them have a few cards left in hand but none of them are useful. They draw a few cards, and some of them are played immediately. Y/N look at her cards and forges a plan. With a smirk on her face, she plays a wild card allowing her to change the active colour to blue. But she has instant regret when she sees a smirk on Charles’ face that’s even wider than her own.

His fingers pick a card from his hand but before he places it down he tugs it back and picks up another one to play. A simple blue 9 lays down on the table. But the twinkle in his eyes never left.

She sighs and take a big sip of wine to empty her glass. She places her cards down on the table and gets up to grab the bottle of wine in the fridge.

“Cute undies.” Charles coos since her shirt doesn’t reach past her bum.

She comes back with the cold bottle and fills up both of their glasses, emptying the second bottle of the evening. The glasses are a bit full but who cares? She places the bottle down on the coffee table and sits back in her spot.

The plan she made a few minutes ago still works, she plays a blue reverse card allowing her to take another turn since it’s just the two of them playing. Next, she plays a blue skip card to grant her another turn. And last up she plays a plain blue 6. During all three of these cards, the smirk on Charles’ face grew back more comprehensive and she just knows what is coming.

The blue +2 that hits the table was expected, and is followed by a shout of UNO!

“Fuck.” She mumbles and takes a gulp from her glass. “Fine.” She continues before she grabs the hem of her shirt. She drags it out, trying to hold off for as long as possible. But the anticipation is turning Charles on even more. Of course, he has seen her in a bikini before, but this is different. This feels different.

Her shirt is added to the growing pile in front of the sofa. Charles notices how she feels a bit uncomfortable. Her eyes avoid his and she is unsure where to actually look. His hand reaches out for her and slides from her upper arm all the way down to her hand. He holds onto it for a little while, squeezing ever so softly.

“You really are the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.” He reassures her by giving her the exact confidence boost she needed.

After Y/N plays her second to last card, Charles is able to finish the game by playing his very last card. Leaving him in his jeans and boxers and her in just her bra and panties.

“Let’s go for another round.” She states and already starts collecting all cards to shuffle them. Charles chuckles at her newly gained confidence. He is so ready to play a second round.

She deals the cards, places the deck back on the table, and flip over the top card of the deck. A yellow 4 is laying on the table.

“Since I won last round, you may start this one."

She places down a green 4 on top of the yellow one on the table. A simple but steady start, she thinks.

“Oh shit.” Charles says and places down the green 4 he already had in his hand, ready to play. “I’m so sorry, baby. You don’t have to…” He adds, suddenly getting nervous at the realization he is finally going to see her topless after years of wondering and imagining what she’d look like underneath.

“The game’s the game.” She states and lets her hand travel to her back to unclasp her bra. Charles gulped, feeling more nervous than he ever had before in his life. His heart was pounding as he looked into her eyes and saw the unmistakable desire there. He had no idea what she is thinking but he is fascinated by her daringness.

He watches as she pushes the straps of her bra off of her shoulders and drops the garment to the ground. She lets out a deep sigh of pleasure as her breasts become the focus of his attention, and the look in his eyes tells her he wants her just as much as she wants him.

She feels incredibly sexy and alluring. For a brief moment, their eyes meet. She feels a strange and wonderful stirring in her stomach. Her cheeks flush, and she quickly looks away. At that moment, she just knows that she is in trouble.

Without saying anything, she swiftly moves on with the game by placing down her green 8. Charles can’t seem to keep his eyes away from her for too long, giving her an enormous confidence boost.

Both of them place down a few more cards before she places down her Wild Draw 4 card and change the colour to blue. Charles draws his four cards and takes a good look at his cards. He’s having a hard time focusing on the game with the gorgeous sight in front of him.

He places down two cards in one go, a blue skip causing him to have a second turn, and a blue 5.

She places down her blue 8 and shout UNO! Charles looks through his cards again to find any card that may cause her to not finish the game. A Wild Draw 4, a +2, anything at all. But all he has is a blue 2.

“Oh my god, Charles. What are the odds.” She chuckles.

“What do you mean?”

She places down a blue 2 on top of his. She’s been waiting for this moment ever since he took his shirt off. Her thoughts have been flooded with the idea of him naked in front of her. It’s all she’s been thinking about for the past years.

“Fuck. You win the game and I have to take off my jeans?” He laughs. Without another word, he gets up, unbuttons his jeans and zips down his fly. His thumbs hook into the waistband of his jeans to pull them down painfully slow. A soft sign, nearly a moan is heard when his bulge is released from his tight pants. Ever since she had to get rid of her shirt Charles’ cock started hardening beneath him.

She gasps at the view in front of her. She makes it her mission to get him out of his boxers as soon as possible. The lust in her eyes is inevitable, not knowing where to look. His eyes? His hands, where he is pushing down his jeans? Or his bulge, which is honestly where she just wants to keep looking at.

Tension is rising and she can’t wait for him to add the last bit of his clothes to the growing pile. His jeans finally drop to the floor and he lifts his right foot trying to step out. His ankle gets stuck and she reaches out instinctively to hold the jeans down, helping him get out. She allows him to step out before she adds the denim to the pile of clothes.

Charles sits back down close to her. Both their legs touch again but now there is no fabric in between holding back the skin to skin contact. She looks down at where her legs touch and look back up to him.

“Hi.” He says with a soft smile across his lips. God those lips, they have never looked more kissable. Or is it just her mind playing games? Her thoughts are all over the place. All she wants is to just push him over, straddle him and kiss him. Everywhere.

“Hey.” She chuckles before a nervous laugh is heard from Charles’ side. Her eyes drop down to his boxers. He chose to wear navy blue Calvin Klein’s this morning and she is so thankful for his choice. The dark fabric accentuates his skin perfectly. An outline visible around his growing member.

“Eyes up here, baby.” He snorted as if he isn’t having the hardest time keeping his own eyes away from her tits.

“Sorry.” She whispers before Charles holds out his hand for her to grab. His thumb dances on the back of your hand. Both of them are quiet for a little bit as they soak up each other.

After what feels forever but actually are only 1,5 minutes, Y/N speaks up.

“Charles? What are we doing?” She questions him, still holding onto him as she looks their connected hands.

“Hmm, I don’t know actually.” He replies. His free hand reaches with his forefinger for her chin and pushes her face up so she’d have to look in his eyes. “All I know is that I want you. So, fucking, bad.”

Her eyes light up. She can’t believe he really admitted what he just said and without a second thought she gives in to her desire of just a few minutes ago.

Y/N lets go of Charles’ hand and pushes him onto the floor by his shoulders. Simultaneously she climbs on top of him, causing a muted “oh” to fall from his lips. He is surprised by her actions and honestly, so is she. His hands grab her by her hips as she sits down on his stomach, avoiding contact with his aching cock.

Their lips finally connect. Ten long years are coming together in this sweet and lustful kiss. Charles’ right hand travels up and down her side as his left nestles into her hair. The two of them sink into the living room floor, both desperate for the connection they have been longing for.

His opens his mouth and gently sucks Y/N’s lip between his. He lets go after a few seconds and licks softly over her bottom lip. Her heart races as her spine arches under his touch causing him to naturally pull her closer. She opens her mouth to allow her tongue to join his, going back and forth.

She moans with pleasure and their tongues intertwine even more vigorously, entangling with one another in a desperate search for more pleasure. Each movement they make is somehow more tantalizing than the last. Their hands exploring each other's body with a deep hunger for more.

Y/N wishes this moment would last forever. She is scared of what might happens next, what if this is just a heat of the moment kind of kiss and they really can’t go back to being just friends. Or maybe that is exactly what Charles meant with his ‘Then we’ll just stop being friends’.

Charles’ hand roams down her back. He moans a bit louder when he finally touches her bum. She feels a firm squeeze on her left cheek, ripping a moan from her throat. Y/N bucks her hips instinctively at the sweet tingles in her core.

Their lips part for a second and she presses her forehead against his. Both of them are a panting mess, feeling completely out of this world. With Charles’ hand still squeezing her bottom he speaks up.

“How about we take this to the bedroom, baby?” He whispers.

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luvyeni · 5 months ago

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THE DEMON IN MY CLOSET • SIM JAEYUN

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ demon!jaeyun wc. 6.1k+

𓄷 warnings... smut mdni. mentions of abuse. mentions of death. oral (f. receiving). unprotected sex. softdom jake.

nia's notes: here's the first installment of the series, i hope you guys enjoy it 🖤 you sunghoon's is next .

lucifer masterlist | sunghoon

You were taken from me…

So pray for me and I'll burn for you …

A week inside this house; and things have been interesting to say the least— no your grandmother hasn't come back to haunt you yet; but the house does seem colder, like cold enough for you to walk around in your sweater all the time; you even tried to turn the thermostat up, but that did nothing.

Then it was the damn lights; you knew it was an old house; but that didn't stop you from tensing up in fear whenever the lights would flicker when you would walk down the hall, almost like the lights would follow you with every step; it felt like someone was there, controlling them, watching you, timing your steps with the lights— it creeped you the fuck out.

And you can't forget your closet door; the door that refused to close no matter what; well no refused to stay closed. you chalked it up to the door being broken so it wouldn't stay closed; just pushing a shoe in front of it when you sleep to keep yourself sane in the darkness.

Besides those things everything else was fine, you had gotten rid of mostly everything out of the house, the wifi guy coming to set up the internet— which took you all day to your demise, having 5 random men in the house while you basically just stood there awkwardly.

On a better note; you had to go back into the town for groceries, where you met huening kai; a cute boy who worked as a cashier in the supermarket— so you did find yourself going to that grocery store 3 more times that week; having enough groceries to last you a while.

“He's super cute.” you threw the keys to the house on the counter, placing the new set of groceries on the table. “yeah he must be, you're gonna go broke.” Yeji said over facetime, you laughed while opening the fridge to put the food up. “you’re laughing, I'm serious; in this economy you're spending money on groceries you don't need.” she said. “Well I mean you practically are rich now, so I guess it doesn't matter to you.”

“No, my parents are rich now, and that's only because my grandmother was Lucifer's wife in her past life and—” You heard a snicker, which made you freeze. “The hell?” You said, putting your 3rd bottle of milk into the fridge. “What is it?” You heard Yeji's voice through the phone. “It sounded like I heard someone just laugh.” You closed the door to the fridge. “Lord you're going crazy up there baby, hearing voices.”

“Not voices, a chuckle.” You said , walking to your room. “Girl that's scarier I fear.” and like clockwork, the damn closest door was wide open again. “This fucking door.” You slammed it shut. “What's with the door?” You sighed , fiddling with the necklace. “I close it and it's open, I even put a shoe, the shoe must not be strong enough.” You said. “Or you have a ghost.” She said, gasping. “Maybe it's your grandma, you should get an ouija board.” she said. “Should I?” You teased, clearly the “wind” didn't like that because your door to the closet creaked open.

“Sorry the monster in my closet doesn't agree with that.” You joked around, getting up, closing the door, putting a book in front of it. “Just a suggestion.” Yeji shrugged, your hand going back to that necklace. “Girl you are obsessed with that damn necklace.” She said, “You've touched it like 20 times since we've been on the phone.” You looked down on the necklace. “I don't know, I'm addicted to it, it's so pretty.” you said. “It is, it's giving vintage in the best way, where'd you get it?”

“It was my grandmothers I guess. I found it sitting in a jewelry box while cleaning out her room.” You explained. “It was the only thing in there.” you said. “Cute, probably from the 1600s, you know when your grandmother was born.” You rolled your eyes. “She was 85.” She shrugged. “Ask your mom, it looks expensive, maybe a family heirloom.”

“I did, she said, growing up, her grandmother never mentioned a family heirloom, she didn't even talk to her family.” You said, shrugging it off. “Whatever it is, or wherever it came from I'm glad I found it before my mom did , then it would've gone to my 17 year old cousin, who probably would've pawned it.”

“I have to go now girl, I've got a date.” Yeji said after about another hour of talking. “Good for you.” you said with a little bit of jealousy. “Hey you still have the cute grocery boy.” You sighed. “Yeah, who lives in the town 30 minutes away.” you said. “Hey, I guess you have to go buy more milk.” She heard her laugh, you scoffed. “Oh haha I hope your date fucks you tonight and doesn't let you finish.” You heard her gasp, hanging up laughing.

You found yourself in the kitchen cooking yourself some dinner; why let the groceries go to waste? sitting the food down on the table, you could've taken it to your room , but the closet thing crept back up on you, scaring you— you know you could change rooms; it wasn't like the house was lacking space, but you couldn't be bothered to move your things, you weren't staying there for long anyway.

Finishing your food, you put the plate in the sink, ready to go back to your room— laughing when a message from Yeji calling you bitch because her date sucked. You were almost to your room, when you heard a noise. No, a crash coming from your bedroom. You freeze right in your spot; that wasn't a figment of your imagination— that was actually coming from your bedroom— the noise was coming from your bedroom.

Now the rational side of your brain was yelling at you to run like hell and then call the damn police like a smart person, but your feet clear wanted to die because you found yourself creeping back to the room, slowly opening the door, it was eerily silent and it felt even colder than usual— and then you noticed it; the closet door was open, the door you knew you closed; and the book you had put in front of the closet? it was across the room.

Was there a person in this house? the police station was 30 minutes out, if you were to call them, you'd be dead by time they got here and that's even if you get a chance to call them— and that's even worse because no one would even bother to come check the house, you didn't know huening kai well enough for him to care about you, and every know that's the former lady of the house died; so by time your dead body would be found, it would most likely be by your parents and it would be all decomposed.

You were freaking out now mentally, scared to move in case a person was in your closet— then you didn't hear anything; surely if someone was in there they would've come out already. You stand up straight , goosebumps all over your arms as you go up to the closet, swinging it open— and nothing; it was nothing in there. You didn't dream it , it wasn't all in your head, you heard the crash, anyone would've heard it.

Swinging the closet door fully open, looking around inside, there was nothing in there but your clothes, and your shoes— your shoes that you put neatly on the inside, now all over the floor; you weren't staying in here another night— you'd drive the 30 minutes into the town of you had to, slamming the the closet door closed. “I got to get the hell out of here.” You whipped around to run out the room.

“Don't go.” A voice that damn sure didn't come out of you spoke. “Please don't go, he'll be mad at me if you do.” there he was sitting on your bed, the jewelry box that was sitting on your nightstand in his hand. “Wait please.” your eyes widened, your mouth open ready to scream. “Don't scream.” he said, jumping up covering your mouth. “This isn't going well, please don't scream.”

He was touching you, looking you dead in your eyes begging you not to scream. “I'm gonna let go now, please don't scream, I'm not here to hurt you .” You nodded, and he slowly let his hand uncover your mouth, putting them by his side. “See, I'm not gonna hurt you.” the boy said, you forced yourself to speak. “wh-who— I have money in my bag, it's over there, please just take it.” he was now confused. “I-i have jewelry too , the lady here had a bunch, it's all real.”

You went to take all the jewelry you were wearing off as well reaching for the necklace sitting on your necklace, so ready to give him anything so he'd just leave you. “Wait, no don't take that off!” He stood up , making you step back, trying to run out. “If you take that off , it might complicate things.”

“W-what?” you took another step back, him following forward. “wh-who are you?” He smiled like he wasn't in your room unwanted. “Im jaeyun.” He introduced himself. “But you can call me Jake, all my friends call me jake.” Friends? He was an intruder. “I'm not an intruder, I live here.” He said— you didn't say that out loud. “I-i won't call the cops, please just leave.”

“I live here, why would I leave?” He seemed confused. “No, m-my grandmother lived here,” he nodded. “So did I.” He said matter of factly. “I lived here longer than her actually.” he said, the door closing behind you making you jump. “I see you backing up, I told you I'm not gonna hurt you.” Your bottom lip trembled in fear. “You did that?!” You said. “Wh-what are you? a ghost?”

He laughed. “No, of course not.” He said. “I'm a demon.” You were going crazy? No , you were dreaming, this was just a weird nightmare. “You're not dreaming, I'm not that kind of demon.” He said. “You-you’re reading my mind, you're closing doors.” he nodded, “you're a demon?” He repeated the head movements. “I'm gonna pass out.”

“Please don't, I'll be in trouble if you get hurt.” He said. “Please i just wanted to talk to you, I've been watching you since you moved in, I was the one who sat the necklace out for you to find, even though that's against the rules; you're actually supposed to find it yourself, but things were different this time.”

“W-what do you want?” you said , he stepped forward once more; and you moved back in reflex. “I wanted to meet you.” He looked like he seemed to know you very well. “meet me? why?” He went silent, like he was trying to find out what to say; he couldn't just say what he wanted right now, you're already freaked out. “you're pretty, I guess that's why.”

“Look there's no need to be scared , okay?” He said. “I'm not gonna hurt you I promise.” He said. “None of us really want to hurt you.” None of us? “There's more of you?” You said. “Shit I can't say more okay, please just know we won't hurt you? Okay?” Before you could do anything else, he reached up , holding the pendent in his hand. “You won't be harmed.” and that's it- he was gone, he disappeared with a blink of an eye; like he never existed.

Like hell you were going to sleep to night, you didn't even bother to turn the light; you will still trying to convince yourself it was just weird freaky dream and you’d wake up from, but when the damn sum started to rise, you finally had to come to the crazy unbelievable conclusion— he was real, there was a demon in this house; you also had to admit your mom was somewhat right about the house being haunted.

you knocked out right then and there, the boy from the night before was there again, he wasn't saying anything though, just staring at you— smiling at you, but it wasn't the puppy like smile he sported last night , it was a sinister one, and his cute brown eyes; they now were red and glowy, what you expect a real demon to look like; but he said he could go into your dream? “He did? little jakey is a liar now.”

You shot up, breathing heavily; clutching your chest. “What the hell?” you tried to catch your breath. “What the hell was that?” safe to say you'll probably never sleep again as long as you're in this house.

Dragging your body out of bed; your shower was quick, scared that someone was watching you, making sure to wrap yourself in a towel, basically running back to your room, closing the door to get dressed— peeking out the door to see if he was out there. When you didn't see him , you stepped outside, creeping down the hallway. “What are you doing?”

You yelped, spinning around; he stood there. “oh I'm sorry.” he said. “I didn't mean to scare you.” He reached out , but you stepped back. “I told you I wasn't gonna hurt you.” He said. “How can I trust you, not when you lied to me?” You said, he tilted his head. “You can come into my dreams.” His eyes widened. “Who told you that?” He said. “So you can?” He was silent. “Can you?” You repeated. “Well yeah but I didn't go into your dreams yesterday.”

“But you have.” He scratched the back of his neck. “It was the third night after you found the necklace.” He said. “You um, it was uh.” His ears were turning red, you understood what he meant. “I hid in the closet.” He said. “So you're a pervert?” He shook his head. “No, I didn't go into them anymore I swear.” he was a demon; how could you trust a demon. “That's understandable, who'd be crazy enough to trust a demon?”

“If you want me to even attempt to trust you, stay outta my mind.” you said, he held his hand up, putting it to his chest. “I swear.” He said, you nodded. “Fine.” You said. “But I have questions.”

“I reckon you don't eat eggs?” You said. “I don't eat anything, I don't need to.” He said, you nodded. “Of course you don't.” You sat down at the table. “Sit down, you're standing is creeping me out.” he smiled sitting down. “So ask me anything, I can answer everything you want.”

“Who the hell was in my dreams last night?” It was his turn to tense up. “I can't exactly tell you why he was in the dream, but that was sunghoon, you can only see him in in dreams for now?” He said. “and why is that?” He chewed his bottom of his lip. “because he doesn't want to see you yet.” You heard him whisper under his breath. “Is he dangerous?” You said. “Well no , not exactly.” You stopped chewing your food. “what does that mean?” You questioned. “He won't hurt you.” He said. “Hopefully.”

“What does any of this have to do with this necklace?” You said. “Well I actually don't know too much about that either.” He said, you scoffed. “what do you know?” You said. “Well that necklace is why I'm here today, well that and because I want you to see me.” You perked up. “So without the necklace I wouldn't be able to see you?” he nodded. “Not exactly, anyone could see us if we wanted them to, we're bonded with the necklace, and now that you've worn it, we're bonded with you.”

“You keep saying we, are you talking about the one who was in my dream?” he nodded. “no not sunghoon, jay.” He answered. “You can't see him either?”

“He doesn't want to see me?” He shrugged. “He just likes to observe most times.” He explained. “He's been here the longest so I understand, he doesn't adjust well to people who have the necklace.” he frowned. “Bunch of bad experiences.” You held your head. “You okay?” He asked, concerned. “It's all too much , I feel like my head is gonna explode.”

He wants to reach over the table and grab your hand, he almost is compelled to; but he doesn't want to scare you even more , so he just sits in silence, letting you come to terms with everyone. “Look.” He was the first to speak up. “I get this is a lot to take in, so I'll give you some space.” He said. “When you're ready, just call for me.” Before leaving he said one more than. “Any time you call for me I'll be there, just like before.”

You don't call for him for the next few days, trying to just wrap your head around everything he told you— which wasn't much, but before moving here you believed there was no such thing as demons, so it was a lot for you. You tried to call your mom, but what you tell her; the house has demons; but only you can see them, but you can only see one because one is too traumatized for some reason to show himself; and the other doesn't want to see you and may or may not want to kill you— that would get you locked away in a padded room.

You tried to talk to Yeji the best way you could, but of course she thought you were just having nightmares— you wish it was just a nightmare that you were having. You even walked around the house, trying to find something; anything to make some sense of it; maybe Jake was useful, at least he cured your boredom. “You're not gonna find anything.”

You turned around, glaring. “I didn't call you.” He nodded. “not with your mouth no, but you did say my name.” He said, pointing to his head. “What did I say?” you said. “I'm sorry.” He said. “I just really wanted to see you, it's been 4 days, I missed you.” You smiled, he was kinda cute for a being that was probably centuries years old. “How old are you?”

“Well me i've only been here 100 years.” he said like it was normal. “I told you I've been here for a while.” you nodded. “Yeah a long time.” He laughed. “Not as long as my brothers , but long enough.” He said. “Did you know my grandmother?” He looked uncomfortable. “Your grandma was a scary woman.” He shifted in his seat. “What do you mean by that?” You asked , he shook his head. “It's not my story to tell, just know she wasn't a nice person, and I've met my fair share of not nice people.”

What did she do that had this century old demon so scared? “Well I didn't know her, she and my mom never got along.” You said. “Oh I know, we listened to them argue all the time, I was happy when your mom left , she didn't have to endure the abuse your grandmother put her through. He frowned. “Abuse?” you never heard about any abuse from your mother. “Oh she never told you?” You shook your head no. “Your grandmother was cruel to her , hitting and yelling at her; she would even lock your mom in a closet when she'd misbehave; your grandfather tried to stop it but your grandma, she was evil to everyone.”

That made you angry; all those years you spent telling your mom that she probably wasn't that bad, and that they just needed to make up— you felt sad because your mom couldn't tell you. Jake saw your face drop, he grabbed your hand. “But I know you aren't like that, I can tell you're different.” He said. “I believe we've bonded with the perfect person.”

He was so sweet; how could someone like him be a demon. “You don't seem like someone who'd be a bad person in life , how did you become a demon?” He looked down at the table. “Did I say something wrong?” He shook his no. “Of course not.” He toyed with his fingers. “I won't lie and say there are bad demons; of course there are,” he said. “But some of us made decisions; did things that made us like this.” He said. “And what did you do?”

“I sold my soul.” He started, “I sold my soul for the person I love.” You sat back in the seat. “So you were a human?” He nodded, smiling. “It was a lot different from today when I was a human, but I've learned to adjust throughout the time periods.” He explained. “I was tricked.” He said, “Her name was Grace, she was the love of my life, I knew I was gonna spend the rest of my natural human life with her.” his smile dropped. “But she got sick; really sick and she was gonna die, and I couldn't have that, I needed her, I felt like I couldn't breathe with her.”

He looked so broken retelling the story. “He feeds off of vulnerability, he felt how desperate I was; he came to me when she was days away from death; he said your life for hers— I should've read the fine print I guess.” He chuckled. “I thought he'd kill me right then and there, but no he'd said he'd be back.” He said. “He came back a few years later, I died of the same sickness she did, ironic huh?” You didn't know if you should laugh, so you just nodded. “I watched her grieve, and I watched her grow old; she got remarried again, and had children— then I watched her die.” He said. “Then he sent me here, and I saw again— my grace; except her name wasn't Grace, it was Laura, but she had her soul, she found the necklace; but she didn't remember me, I tried to explain it to her but she didn't believe it.” He said. “Then I realized my punishment; I have to watch her die; I have to watch her soul die over and over.” He said looking back up at you. “That's why I feel so drawn to you; you have her soul.”

“M-me?” He nodded. “Don't be frightened I know it's weird.” He said. “I didn't believe in reincarnation either; until this.” He said; you didn't believe it either, but given the situation; you don't know what to believe anymore— he was literally telling you that you have the soul of his dead girlfriend from over 100 years ago. “Please tell me you believe me?”

“It sure is a lot to take in.” You started. “But I don't believe you'd tell me this if it wasn't true.” He perked up with a smile. “Really, you believe me?” He said, you slowly nodded. “I guess I do.” You said. “Wow , they don't normally believe me, and years go by and they all get married or live good lives and soon they forget about the necklace and put it back then the bond is broken and they don't even think about us.”

“Are all your stories like that?” He shook his head. “No, we've all different stories, different reasons we ended up like this.” He said. “Mistakes we've made.”

He stayed around longer , telling you everything he could about himself; you even told him about stuff in your life; how you recently graduated from college and plan to start work at a company after the summer. “So that means you'll leave soon?” You questioned. “Will you keep the necklace?” He asked. “When you take the necklace off you break the bond between us.” He said; you hadn't even thought about it yet; how would this even work in the city? you can't even explain this to anybody. “I don't know, but it's a little early to answer that.” You saw him frown. “Don't get too upset though, okay nothing is set in stone yet.” You reassured , he smiled. “Okay.”

You eventually fell asleep, exhausted from the day. Jake sat at the end of the bed; just watching you, the air entering and leaving your body, lightly snoring; you were so pretty; he could feel graces soul in you, but it also felt like something new, you were a breath a fresh air— he'd only known you for a few days , but he'd been watching you since the first day you got here, he liked you. “stop staring at her, you look like a creep.”

He looked up where he stood. “why'd you go in her dream?” The boy shrugged. “Fun, seeing her scared; why'd you lie , didn't want her to know you were creeping on her in her dreams” Jake stood up. “Let's go, Jay is probably waiting.” He looked back at you, where you were sleeping comfortably— he smiled.

This gradually progressed after he told you his life story; you actually started to call out to him more, letting him be around you and getting to know what he was like now; as a demon and all, you showed him all your favorite shows, he said he was still able to leave the house so he was caught up— they all were they just chose to stay up here in the house. “Plus it would be hard explaining to elderly folks in this town why they were still the same age from when they were young.” and that you understood.

Sitting on the couch one day; watching lucifer— it was his request. “This is a great depiction of him really, the actor in this is much more handsome though.” You turn to him. “Of course Lucifer in real life is much more terrifying and has absolutely no feelings.” He said his personality was so human-like , it was like he wasn't even a demon. “you don't really act like a demon.” You said. “Sure I could be angry about my situation and turn evil, but it's hard to be mad when I did this to myself.” He said. “I sold my soul to the devil.” He shrugged it off.

“Do you ever regret it?” He nodded. “It's not easy grieving the loss of someone you loved over and over and they don't even remember you.” he said. “And keeping up with the trends of course , I mean sometimes I would rather be dead than listen to anything these kids talk about today.” You giggled. “What?” He said. “You say these kids , with the most youthful looking face, it's funny.” he laughed, pouting. “Hey I'm at least 122 years older than you.” That made you laugh even harder. “That doesn't help at all.”

“Hey, stop laughing.” He smiled. “Stop it right now.” You couldn't. “So you won't stop.” before you could react, he was on top of you. “So keep laughing.” He began to tickle your sides , Jake laughed as you began to gasp for air. “Jake, stop it.” you shouted. “Okay , okay I'll stop.” You said , throwing your hands up in defense. “I'm done.”

“You're gonna stop?” You nodded. “I swear.” He took away his hands from your side; but he was still on top of you, basically straddling you, looking down at you. “That wasn't fa—” his lips were on before you could finish the sentence, your eyes widened as he quickly pulled back. “shit I'm so sorry.” he cursed at himself. “It's okay.” You tried to calm him down. “It's not a bi—” before you could even finish, he was gone. “jake?” You called him, then you called him again; then again— but he never came.

He didn't come for another 4 days, and those days felt like torture; you roamed the halls just calling out for his name— desperate you know, but that's what you were, desperate. You missed his company. You missed him; to the point you'd wish he'd show up in your closet again.

“You can call more, living your life in seclusion can't be healthy.” Yeji said. “it's not total seclusion.” You said, wondering the halls like you found yourself doing. “the grocery boy doesn't count.” You rolled your eyes. “I'm not talking about him either.” You were referring to the demon who managed to make you go insane without his presence— maybe that's his evil. “Well unless you got a pet then I'm not sure what you're talking about.”

“It's nothing, just saying nonsense.” You said. “Maybe I should come up there and visit you.” She said, “No you don't have to, I don't want to ruin your summer.” You said, also you didn't want her to find out about any of this. “Enjoy your summer fun and I'll see you soon back in the city.” She hummed. “Well make sure you eat enough food okay?” She said, “And try to socialize.” she said before hanging up.

You went back to your room, calling his name once more; but you knew he wasn't gonna answer. “I'm here.” You shot up, hearing that voice you've missed for the past 4 days. “Jake.” He sat down on the bed. “You said if I call you'd answer.” You frowned. “I know.” He looked down. “Why'd you leave like that?” He didn't say anything, and it just made you angry. “If you're just gonna stand there and not say anything, then go back to wherever you came from.”

“You don't mean that.” He said. “And how do you figure?” You questioned your eyebrow lifting. “Because you've called out for me for the past four days.” He started. “And I read your mind.” You glared at him. “Fine I'm sorry.” He said. “I didn't mean to leave you alone , I really didn't mean to hurt you y/n , you gotta believe me.”

“Well you did, you ran away.” You said. “and I'm sorry, I was just scared.” He said. “Scared that you'd get scared and take the necklace off, try and break the bond.” He said. “I shouldn't have kissed you , I know it was wrong , but please don't hate me.” He was rambling. “I didn't hate the kiss.” He stopped. “You didn't?”

“You would've known that had you not run away like a coward.” He nodded , you were rightfully upset— and you genuinely wanted to be pissed at him, but you couldn't, that's how much you missed him. “y/n , look—” before he could say anything , you practically threw yourself into his lap , kissing him. “You mmph missed me that much.” He said in between kisses. “Shut up.”

You grabbed his face, his hands wrapping around your waist, basically lifting you up as your lips danced against each other. “Fuck I love this so much.” He groaned , laying you down on the bed; his body hovering over yours , grinding his hips against yours, you felt his cock pressing against your clothed cunt. “Wanted to do this since the first day you walked through those doors.” His hands caressed your face, slowly making his way down your body; your body reacting to his touches. “J-jake.” You whimpered. “Need you so much Jake.”

He began to attack your neck with kisses, his hands working on your shorts; unbuttoning them, kissing down your stomach. “Do you want this?” he questioned, you nodded. “words darling, I need words.” You moaned as he pulled down your shorts. “Please Jake , it hurts so bad” you were so needy, not having a time to pleasure yourself; well that and the fact you didn't feel comfortable knowing there were three demons in the house who could see you.

he threw your shorts somewhere, his eyes full of need as he turned back to you. “So pretty.” He ran up your clothed slit. “So wet.” you let out a moan as he kissed your cunt. “T-take them off.” Your hands tugged at his roots. “Fuck okay.” He groaned, the sensation from you pulling on his roots , making his cock twitch, pulling your panties down.

He finally got rid of your panties, leaving you bare waist down. “Fuck you're dripping.” He kissed the inside of your thighs, “smell so good.” He licked your folds. “Sh-shit.” Getting a taste of your sweet cunt, sent the demon into a frenzy, desperate to taste you more. “Fuck Jake!” He held your thighs open as he sucked on your clit.

He continued the assault on your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit , you felt your orgasm reaching and fast. “Fuck Jake fu-fuck I'm not gonna last.” You moaned. “I'm cumming!” You screamed, yanked at his hair harder as you came, your legs shaking as he ate you out through your orgasm, taking in everything you had to offer him. “shit.”

He forced himself away before he made you cum in his mouth over and over; plus his cock was so hard, he felt like he was gonna burst if he did fuck you. “You're so fucking addicting.” He cursed , his body hovering over yours. “Need to fuck you.” He groaned , palming himself. “Please.”

You reached in between your bodies , unbuckling his pants. “Please fuck me.” You pushed his pants down , he stood up , fully taking them off; climbing back into the bed , freeing his cock from his underwear. “You want my cock?” He moaned , rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. “Want me to fill this pussy?” You nodded moaning his name. “Please jake , please fuck me.”

He wasted no time , pushing his cock into you, both of you moaning out in pleasure; rocking his hip slowly , letting his cock drag along your walls. “Oh fuck , you're so fucking tight.” He groaned , his hand coming up to your boobs , squeezing it; your hips bucked up , matching the roll of his hips. “You feel so good.” Your nails clawing down his back. “Fuck if you that I'm gonna cum.”

His thrust began to become less coordinated , his abdomen tightening. “I’m gonna cum.” He whimpered against your lips. “M-me too.” His hands came in between your legs , rubbing your clit. “Cum for me baby , cum all over my cock.” Your legs stiffened , your back arching as you came. “that's it , keep cumming on my dick— shit I'm gonna cum.” His eyes rolled to the back of his head , the band snapping in his stomach. “Fuck I'm cumming!”

He let out a moan , feeling his cum sticking to your walls. “Sh-shit.” He slowly pulled out , his cum leaking out of you. “So pretty.” He let his cock rub against your messy folds , smearing his cum. “So messy.” he tapped his mushroom top on your bud. “You did so good , took my cock like a good girl.” He kissed your forehead. “such a good girl.”

“Why were they in my closet?” You laid in his arms afterwards. “Because you wouldn't look in there.” He said , you looked at him. “And taking the jewelry box?” He smiled. “I didn't mean to take it , I was just looking at it , then I got tangled up in your stupid shoe rack and I fell , so I tried to quickly return it , but you were faster.” You giggled, shaking your head.

“So I guess since you were the perv in my closet, you were also the perv in the mirror , staring at me?” Jake sat up a bit. “No I never did that , and I'm not a perv.” He pouted, you tapped his cheek. “it's okay you don't have to lie?” You said , but Jake was serious. “Love, I'm serious , it wasn't me in the mirror.” He said , you sat up. “It wasn't?” He shook his head no.

So, then who was it?

TAGLIST. @deobitful @in-somnias-world @darlingz99 @luvitaria @lost-fantasy @lostinneocity @nalenhypen @heeshlove @kirinaa08 @strxwbloody @ryn000 @neosexuals @sakanelli-afc @yizhoutv @capri-cuntz @lilyuwon

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xoxochb · 2 months ago

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⋆·˚ ༘ * only bought this dress so you could take it off (take it off!)

warnings: iykyk…

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hades and persephone

series master list

this time aphrodite wasn’t here to help you get ready which disappointed you in a way. this time percy’s mother helps. a plus side was that your brother would still be walking you down the aisle

“does it feel weird not living in your palace?” asks sally

“well I lived there my whole life. I don’t think I ever liked growing up in royalty though, my father was always controlling of me and my siblings”

“so I’ve heard”

you nod your head. “it was awful. my sister even moved out when she was of age. I don’t speak to her often either but I’m hoping I’ll be able to visit some time”

“I didn’t know you had a sister?”

“melinoe. she’s a goddess”

“minor?”

“very. my parents kind of wanted her to be kept a secret but I suppose I told you so it’s not really a secret anymore” you laugh

sally finishes tying your hair back and puts her hands on your shoulders. “you look lovely. percy is very lucky”

your cheeks flush a pink hue at the mere mention of your soon-to-be husband. good gods of olympus— if someone told you a month ago you would be marrying him instead of his brother you would’ve laughed in their face. yet here you are. you can’t help but feel nervous about this, yes you had been seeing percy since you were twelve and you were beyond comfortable being in this relationship but what if he didn’t feel that way? gods this whole marriage was your fault, I mean you’re only eighteen what if it was too early? did he actually not want to get married?

“oh, dear. you look like you’ve seen a ghost”

“I don’t think I thought things through”

sally frowns and sits on the bench beside you. “nervous?”

“yes. do you think percy really wants to get married? or is he just saying it so I can be happy?”

“(name), marriage is the only topic he has been able to stay on since it happened. I can assure you he is over the moon about this”

you feel tears brewing in your eyes but you quickly push them back to prevent ruining your makeup. “really?”

“yes, darling. I’d never lie to you”

you open your mouth to speak but the door opens, revealing your brother. “we’re starting in five”

you turn back to sally and mutter a quiet ‘thank you’ before exiting the room with nico and you begin walking out to the double doors leading to the beach

“take two” nico jokes, holding his arm out for you to link yours with, instead you throw your arms around him, without a doubt he returns the embrace

“thank you, nico”

“for what?”

“for being my brother”

“well then you’ll be happy to know I’ll always be your brother. even if you decide you hate me”

you pull away with a sigh and loop your arms through his. “I think I’m ready”

“promise me something”

“anything”

“you’ll visit me in the underworld”

“I will. I’m sure percy isn’t very welcome there anymore though”

you both burst out into an uncontrollable laughter. when you try to get any words out your stopped but your inability to breathe

“oh my gods— imagine dad’s face!”

the image of hades seeing your boyfriend husband fills your mind, making you lose any breath you had left. you decide to add onto the fit, “do you know— how dad was so eager to get me married-” you breathe out “he was obsessed with triton I’m starting to think he likes him more than mom”

“now that’s a wedding I would like to attend”

when both of your breathing steadies back to normal you collect yourself and wipe the slight tears that streamed down your face, fixing your hair to assure you like presentable for guests

“okay I’m ready for real now”

“then let’s get you married!”

you take in one last deep breath before opening the double doors and walking out onto the platform covering the sandy ground. the scent of salt water fills your scenes instantly. this time it wasn’t because of your asshole ex husband. this may have been the most nerve wracking part of the wedding— people watching your every move, but when your eyes meet a pair of sea-green ones your nerves feel at peace

when you finally make your way to the altar you hug nico once more before ushering him to his seat, then taking both percy’s hands into yours to prevent them from shaking anymore

“strapless dress? how’d you know those are my favorites?”

your cheeks flush red and you roll your eyes. “shut up”

“want me to save the dirty talk for later? I understand, my mouth is sealed”

when everyone finally settles the officiate begins speaking all that nonsense that they say at weddings. you’ve never actually been to one but you supposed if you were in the crowd this might have been the perfect opportunity to take a nap. he talked on and on for what felt like forever until the vows and until the ending kiss— your personal favorite part. when he finally said the iconic ‘you may kiss the bride’ you were sure you’ve never seen percy move as fast as he did then, quickly throwing your arms around each other into a very non-audience appropriate kiss which on a normal day you would’ve scolded percy for but you were to happy to care about anything right now

ੈ✩‧₊˚

you didn’t end up getting home until around midnight unfortunately. and you should have seen it that the moment you got walked through the doors percy would be eagerly sliding your dress zipper down. you made him wait however— finding it amusing every time you pulled his hands off you, making him wait until you were in your shared bedroom. after what felt like percy’s whole life (he was sure it had been) he was able to unzip your white dress

“you’re quite eager” you laugh. percy ignores your comment and slides your dress off once the zipper was undone, you fumble with your legs to throw it on the floor, then connect your lips back with percy’s as you unbutton his white shirt

“have I told you that you look gorgeous tonight?” he mumbles into your mouth, making butterflies erupt into a frenzy in your stomach

“fifteen times”

when finally you unbutton the rest of the shirt you tear it off and throw it to the side— you only hope it didn’t hit anything important. percy then slides his hand from your bare waist to your underwear, and slowly slides them down your legs. you know for sure you’re not getting even a second of sleep tonight

@azure-drag0ness @itzmeme @leathesimp @pevenxie @mp-littlebit @inclusivesimping

#xoxochb #cries and throws up #I am sooo not ready for this series to be over #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader

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fraugwinska · 7 months ago

Note

Could you do a backstory to Hard Day? Like, how Al decided to give up control, and the first time it happened 🥺🙏

Ummm... well, I may have gotten myself a bit lost in this one :D Idk, It's gotten quite out of hand, 2,5 k words... but...um yeah :D Praying you like it :> Attention - we cook with Chili, not salt today! (MDNI)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The hardest Day

„That's so unrealistic! I mean, in what world would a lion eat bugs instead of the fucking fat juicy PIG?!“

„It's a kids movie, asshole, shut up!“

The gang was sprawled out in front of the TV, blankets and popcorn everywhere. Charlie got her hands on a rare copy of 'The Lion King', and invited everyone to a 'nice, unproblematic, quiet' movie night. She didn't account for Angel's constant commentary, Husk's annoyed retorts to him or Niffty's gleeful giggling at the most unfitting scenes. Vaggie, frustrated by them, started adding to the chaos, sending scolding remarks in intervals at either of them, while Charlie tried to mediate in between songs – which she always sang along with.

You, however, were highly entertained – even though you didn't catch anything from the movie, just watching them was amusing enough. The only one missing was Alastor, who had 'business to attend' and was gone since breakfast ended.

He would've hated it anyway, you knew he had no interest in movies, let alone modern ones, and group activities like these were often straining on his patience. Although getting in the hotel last, you were the one who grew the closest to him. Why? You couldn't say definitively. Maybe it was because you never took his veiled jabs by heart. Maybe because you didn't treat him the way the others wanted you to – with care, with ignorance, with suspicion; but instead with respect, an open mind and without judgment. Maybe it was because you could challenge him – discussions about books you both read could last hours, with points given to either side equally – no winner, no loser, both richer.

You liked Alastor. Really liked him. You also had a silly, little crush on him, for a while now, but you kept that to yourself, nothing going further than a few flirtatious moments 'in good fun', calling each other 'doe' and 'buck' with a laugh. A joke between friends. Friendship, you decided, was enough for you, if it was for him.

The entrance doors slammed suddenly, making you all jump in your seats. Alastor stood at the door, looking... different. Stressed? You cocked a brow when you saw his eye twitch, while he sauntered over to the group.

„Al, do you want to join us? We're watching a movie!“, Charlie said absent-mindedly, her eyes glued to the scene of 'Can you feel the love tonight'.

Alastor gave the TV set a judgmental smile and waved his hand. „Tempting, but it has been a rather hard day, I'll just take a drink and retreat to my room, dear.“ He left the group and went to the bar, your pair of eyes the only one following him. Something was NOT right. His smile was tight, his eyes wider than usual, his movements almost jagged instead of fluid. Niffty had jumped to the bar too, insisting on helping Alastor by retrieving a glass for his whiskey from one the higher shelves. In her eagerness to climb and get it, she didn't watch her steps careful enough, resulting in a few delicate wine glasses sliding from the shelfves and breaking into a hundred tiny pieces. Alastor's reaction was as unexpected as it was worrying – he always had a soft spot for Niffty, laughing over her antics and chaotic energy, often encouraging her even to produce more mayhem. This time, however, he started to scold the maid, who blinked at him with a big, guilty eye and trembling lips.

„Such indignation, really Niffty. Clean the shards at once, and try not to remain to be such a clumsy clot.“, he almost hissed, grabbing the bottle and a simple crystal glass before striding away hastily. Your eyes followed his figure until he turned the corner to the staircase, then you got up and comforted the little demon, helping her sweeping up the glass pieces while she sniffeled tears away.

You let your gaze swipe over the group, completely ignorant about what happened with Niffty, and Alastor. Ignorant of the blatantly obvious bad mood of the deer demon.

Turning to Charlie, you whispered to her that you had a headache and would be going to bed, to which she just nodded. No one acknowledged your leave, all eyes on the screen and still bickering noisily. A bunch of friends, you are, you thought annoyed with a shaking head.

Three flights of stairs later, you reached Alastor's room. You pressed your ear to the door, and heard dull bangs, like something was thrown, and a muffled voice. You knocked, and the room instantly stilled.

„Alastor, it's me.“, you said loudly, brows furrowed. „Are you okay?“

A few seconds of silence. „I'm just fine and dandy my dear.“

You put one hand on the door. He normally would open it, to speak with you directly, face uncomfortably close to face, just the way he liked it. But it stayed close.

„You didn't look fine.“, you stated. You were ever so stubborn.

„Well, I am fine. Now shoo, darling, good night.“

You stood in front of the wooden divider, contemplating. You could just go. Leave him be, wait until tomorrow. See if he would talk to you then. But then, there was your gut. And it told you Alastor wasn't well. And that just didn't sit right with you.

„Alastor. Please, let me in.“

No response, just hint of the prickling feeling of static electricity on your skin.

„I know something is bothering you, and I'm worried.“

No response. You breathe in and out.

„I'm not going anywhere until you open the...“

The door flew open, a hand wrapped around your arm and pulled you into the room, violently. You stumbled and fell against a bookshelf, catching the fall with your hands to keep you upright. You heard a slam and a click – door closed, door locked. The static was everywhere now, flushing in waves over your body. You turned around -

Alastor was pacing like a wounded animal, he seemed fluffed up, as if every hair on his body had decided to stand up. His scleras were dark pits, blackest black, and in it his irises burned angrily in crimson flames, now focusing solely on you. The prey.

„So you came to test my patience too, dear?“, he snarled, his voice so distorted it ached in your ears. „It's not enough that that waste of cables destroyed two of my radio towers. Not enough that dozens of my most profitable souls have been rendered useless by an angelic bomb. Not enough that I not only had to put the disgraceful flat screened wretch back in his place, but also his vulgar boy toy and their brazen, attention-seeking brat.“

He grew in size as he ranted, you watched him reaching the ceiling, antlers scraping along the walls. „I manage my weakening territories, manage these imbeciles who think they can play overlords, I manage this sad excuse of a hotel, I manage the princess's unattainable ideas, and now, I also need to manage you, too, of all people? What a disappointm...“

„Stop.“

You held up a hand. Alastor growled, fluffing up even more, limbs cracking and static popping. „How dare y...“

„Stop.“, you said again. Your tone was calm, void of anger, or fear, neutral and steady. He stared at you, and you held his gaze. „Breathe, Alastor.“

You saw him fighting with himself. He fought against his instinct to oppose, to command, to put you into your place, to rip you apart. His elongated claws scraped over the floor, ripping deep ridges in the wood.

„Breathe.“, you repeated, firmer this time.

Slowly, gradually, Alastor shrunk. Breathed. Crumbled. Until he was back to his usual size and form, only with an exhausted expression.

You studied him – you've never seen him like that. He never allowed anyone to see him as something other than 'the radio demon': Powerful, unshakeable, quick on his feet and always one step ahead. How exhausting it must be. To always have the control also meant to always carry responsibility, to always fear impending failure.

Your heart whispered to you, and you followed it's advice. It could be the most stupid thing you could do, but you decided to do it anyway.

„Come here, Alastor.“

He looked at you, unsure, suspicious. You sounded commanding, but not harsh. Inviting. Like a hand, reached out to someone trapped. For a moment, you almost thought you ruined everything – his eyes left yours, they fell to the ground as he shifted on his feet.

But then – steps. Coming closer. Stopping right in front of you. And suddenly..

His head on your shoulder. His breath on your neck. His voice in your ear.

„Sometimes I'm so sick of it all. Sick of maneuvering, sick of ruling, governing, planning...“

You touched his neck, he let you, caressing the soft skin, heated from his outburst, trembling slightly at the contact. It was intimate, baring this vulnerable part to you. You heart broke for him.

He pulled himself away from you, searching for your eyes. Finding them again, he took your hand, bringing it up to his face, guiding your fingers over his lips. He just said one word.

„Please.“

So much was said with this please. You heard every message. Giving up control, just for a bit, just with something he didn't care enough about to insist on ruling, could be a small bit of freedom. Letting himself be guided instead of leading.

“Kneel down, Alastor.”

His ears pressed flat against his head, but he did as he was told. He couldn't look you in the eyes. For once, you were the one towering over him. You took his face in your hands, pulling it so he looked up to you, seeing your warm smile before your lips met his.

His breath hitched, stuck somewhere in his throat.

You slid one hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, the other caressing his cheek as you tilted your head and deepened the kiss. Slowly, the rigidity melted away, he started to shift, lips no longer stiff but soft and molding against your own.

He tried to stand up, but you pushed him down, gently, definitively.

“Trust me to guide you, buck.”

He breathed, one, two, three times, eyes closed, grin tight.

“Yes, doe.”

Your own excitement took a back seat. You were filled with pure energy at the thought of crossing the line with him, having Alastor in a way you only dreamed about, convinced your relationship would never come this far. But. But this was not about you, for now. Maybe, another time. If another time ever came.

You lowered yourself on him, straddling him, so you were still 'taller', and rejoined your lips. You took his hands and set them on your hips, let them rest there while you buried yours in his hair, tugging lightly to bend his head back. His initial resistance lessened, and he gave in, exposing his throat, gray skin peeking out of his high collar. You let your mouth travel to his jawline, down to the small patch of delicate, thin skin, right next to his jugular. You felt him tense, felt his rising urge to protect himself from your potential strike. You let out a soft hum as you started to lick it, sucking gently, just a bit, just to make him shiver at the sensation. And how he did.

A moan, low and sweet like the strumming of a cello, escaped him, his hands crushing your hips by the force of his grip. It hurt, but you decided to ignore it. Little steps.

“Can you take more, good boy?”

His eyes snapped open, burning furiously. You met them with calmness, with a soft matter-of-fact-ness. Not smug, not mocking. A question. Proceed or Stop?

Alastor swallowed hot saliva. You could see he was getting overwhelmed, overstimulated, and yet, he had such a longing in his eyes, such desperation.

“Yes.”

One simple word. One spark, setting your body on fire. You tried to force your trembling fingers to steady, lifting yourself slightly off him to open his trousers. With every button, his breaths grew heavier, his grip on your legs grew tighter, claws already digging in your skin and drawing blood.

“Careful, buck. I'll need these in a moment.”, you said, placing both hands on his chest, pushing him flat on his back on the ground. He let you go, arms falling useless next to him.

You leaned forward, thanking any deity that would listen you decided to wear a skirt today, and placed a hand on his growing bulge. He hissed at the touch, cracking the floor as his fingers clawed into the wood of the floor instead your fleshy legs.

Freed from it's cage, Alastor's dick was already dripping with beads of precum, a sight to behold. You wrapped your fingers around it, feeling the warmth and bloodflow, it twitched in your hand. You stroke him, eliciting the most sinful noises from the demon under you.

You took a deep breath. One more, one question more, to make sure that he wanted it.

“Look at me, Alastor.”

He sat up on his elbows, looking more helpless than you've ever imagined he could. Even his smile wavered, threatening to break. You were looking for any signs of hesitation, disgust, resistance, regret. You only found desire. A want, a need, almost pleading eyes.

Your free hand pushed your panty away, enough to expose your lips, and you lowered yourself onto him, his length slowly entering you. He was big, you were tight. A bittersweet combination. Sparks flew before your eyes as he stretched you, but you were hypnotized by his eyes.

They were blown wide, returned to black, but the irises now flickering into dials, turning, left to right as he groaned. You moved, guiding your hips up and down, feeling yourself molding to his shape in the most delectable way, and getting drunk off the look on his face.

You increased the pace on which you pushed yourself on him, adding a little tilt of your hips to take him even deeper. His voice was reduced to a static-y mess, hums and groans and moans bleeding into each other. You placed both of your hands on his chest for more support, inevitably pinning him down. His hands flew to yours, threatening to push them off him, but instead, he entwined his fingers with yours, panting heavily.

It didn't take long for him to feel the pressure, unbearable and urgent, his release approaching at godspeed.

“Doe, I can't...”

Panic in his tone. He tried to put his hands on your waist to pull you off. You understood immediately – an upbringing in conservative times, decades of living by the rules of a gentleman, he was resisting against the thought of cumming inside you. You pushed his hands away.

“Yes, you can.”, you stated, smiling at him, a hint of wickedness in your eyes. “And you will.”

Your skilled movements and dedicated demeanor sent him over the edge immediately. Protests were futile as he came in you forcefully, you felt his cock pumping his seed deep into you, hot and thick as you rocked him through his orgasm. Your own high wasn't worth chasing, too far away to matter. You didn't even think about it – nothing could feel better than this.

Alastor ran his hands over his forehead, sweeping away beads of sweat as his breath calmed down.

His hand shot out to grab you, and, still impaled by him, he pulled you into his chest, invading your mouth with his tongue to kiss you possessively. As if to transfer the command, the control he had given up, back to him. Taking it from you.

For a moment you were scared. The positions had reset to their default. Would that mean he'd push you off? Say goodnight and never talk about this night again? Returning to the Status Quo. Friends, the end.

Alastor pulled your chin up to look at you. His thumb ran over your cheek, tenderly and full of care. His eyes answered every question in your mind. You weren't scared anymore.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #charlie morningstar #fraugwinskawrites #quick fic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin smut

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tianshanb · 24 days ago

Text

A head canon of mine that baby damian was ALLOWED to be a baby. Just with extra assassin trianing.

Like you know those parents that start their kids on sports, or languages, or instruments as babies etc. Talia just started him on assassin training early. But he's just a baby

Cue dmaian walking into training with a pacifier and clutching a blanket.

Just imagine damian with a tiny wooden sword copying the moves of his instructor. Once it's break time, he toddles to the other corner of the room where he plops down on a bunch of pillows and blankets waiting for him, and most importantly, his bottle. Training is tiring he needs a drink 😤

He may also take a nap mid lesson cz he's just a babyyyyy. He brings his favorite plushie to "watch him" when he train. Instead of playing house he plays secret assassin mission with the toys.

As he grows older. 4 to 6 years old. The pacifier is gone by then, and he no longer brings his toys. The new instructor seeing this mature soul in a child body confidently walking up to you with their nose turned up... the illusion is shattered when they open their mouth and half their teeth are missing. Then, mid trianing damian take a drink from their sippy cup thats batman themed (it was a gift from his mama from her latest mission).

Yep just a child.

7 years old is when his training gets super hard. That's the age where your viewed as starting to mature.

I imagine at this age where Ra's is like finally he's old enough to start his real trianing, and Talia is no longer the one responsible for him. This continues to increase in difficulty until he's 9. And shaped off to batfam.

But hoenstly:

Sword trianing?? Imagine this aggressive toddler swinging this sword around. A thing about babies is they LOVEEE swinging shit around, hitting things, throwing things. So training would BE fun.

Eventually he'd had to learn how to break his fall, how to get tackled, etc. Dmaian just sees it as a game and it makes him giggled. KIDS enjoy being tossed around. Like roughhousing is a thing for a reason, the same reason why people throw babies in the air when they play with them.

When he goes to the batfamily. He's just a random 9 year old. One thing about why I can never take the little guy seriously is no matter how intimidating and scary you wbat to seem... your voice will still be that of a child. Another hc is when he's angry he gets on his tippy toes cz he's soo tinyyy. I imagine an argument geting super heated and finally dmaian doing on his toes and suddenly whoever he's arguing with can't take his seriously cz he smol, like this big 👌, and missing some teeth. He has a bed time and can't watch horror movies, like seriously are u arguing with him?

Another thing is Talia had limited screen time and access to devices and technology. She also had parent control on every device. Bruce just does not have that. Dmaian is going to Bruce, and being excited, he's old enough to use a device without parental supervision, or the parent app is so excited that he's seen as a grown-up! (In reality, Bruce just firgot. He never had kids this young with smartphones existing). He's bragging to tim about it one day when bruce overheard, and he's like, hold up a minute.

Extra:

This idea came to me once my friend told me about a student she has. Me and her are tutors and she tutors math. At her centre, there is no specific grade, everyone just advances through the levels as long as they pass the previous level.

In her group, there is this 2 year old toddler who's parents put in tutoring since he was 18 months old. This baby is dropped of by his parents, walking in with a pacifier in his mouth with the clip on to shirt thing. Sometimes in his pj's and sometimes clutching his 'blankie'.

This little dude does advanced algebra. That's right HIGHCHOOL LEVEL ALGEBRA.

He's barely toilet trained 😭 and he asked for help to go to the bathroom, his grip on the pencil is shaky, he still baby talks... but I bet he's better than u at maths.

#baby damian wayne #damian wayne #batfam #batman #talia al ghul #damian wayne centric #hes just a little guy #hes just a baby #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #headcanon #fanfic ideas #damian is smol!#league of assassins #damian al ghul #dc comics #dc

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bigassmoonchild · 1 year ago

Text

The Aftermath

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2k

The first part does give context, but isn’t required for this read.

Summary: You knew the difficulty the process of being a mated Omega in the military. You understood how much you would lose, but you never thought about the difficulty in your normal life. Never thought about the panic you would have, or how much it would effect you and Ghost's personal relationship.

Content Tags: Hospitals, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, No use of Y/N, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost

A/N: I was not expecting such a good response to Maple Syrup, and since y'all seemed to like it so much here's basically the next part. Let me know if you want anything specific, my asks should be open. <3 I'm adding a 'keep reading' link to make sure you can scroll on if you want.

Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

Everything felt wrong. Ghost wasn't injured, but he was being held overnight in the medbay. The Maple Syrup had run its course through him, but he could hear chatter echoing in the room. He could smell you, you weren't too far from him but he wasn't allowed to see you. Price had come in not too long after the doctors had checked him over and cleared him, arms crossed as he sat in the chair next to the bed Ghost was in.

"We'll need to talk, you know," was the only thing Price had said, leaning back and relaxing in the chair.

"Is the Doc okay?" Ghost asked, looking in the direction your scent was coming from. The sickly sweet smell of heat was becoming stale, but you were on lock and key just in case any Alpha soldiers tried to come in. Price looked in the same direction, giving a faint shrug.

"I'm going to be updated once she's steady enough for the doctors to leave her alone," Price said. "Gaz is on watch outside her room," Ghost nodded. Gaz was a Beta, so it would be fine for him to be that close. Ghost still didn't like it, he didn't know how his pack was, where everyone was, if everyone was safe.

It took a few hours, it was well past midnight before any movement came from the direction of your room. The curtains surrounding Ghosts bed was moved, the Doctor gesturing for Price to follow him. Ghost had tried to listen in, but it wasn't worth it. He was still in mild pain from the mission, the place where the tranq had stabbed him still throbbed every so often.

Price walked back in some time later, looking at Ghost with a sigh. That didn't make him feel good, panic started to flow through him, thoughts of you dying flashed in his mind for a few moments.

"She's gonna be fine," Price started. "They got her heat back under control, they're just waiting for it to finish cycling through her. Outside of that, she's fine," Price sat next to Ghost. "I can't ask you about what happened. I can only tell you what will happen," he looked away.

You woke up, head foggy and throbbing with a headache. You could see a form moving next to you, checking your vitals. You gave a soft groan, your neck throbbing alongside your core. Everything hurt, but you weren't able to tell if it was everything.

"You finally waking up?" The voice asked, and you could recognize it. "You've been out for a few days, you've even had Ghost trying to get in," she giggled a little. Amanda. That was her name, she was one of the nurses you'd been working with prior to the mission that went south.

At the mention of Ghost, you sat upright, vision spinning before righting itself.

"It was a really bad heat you were sent into, y'know. Took us a few hours to stabilize you, but you're doing good for yourself," she smiled, trying to lay you back down but you pushed her off of you.

"I need to talk to him," god even your throat hurt. She nodded slowly, sticking her head out of the door. You rubbed your head, headache now making you feel sick. It took a few moments, but you heard footsteps come in the room, a figure standing next to you. When you looked up, it was Price.

"There are some procedures we need to go through. I've already got some officers in, but we still need to talk about what happened," Price started, moving to sit in the chair near you. "Ghost has already spoken with them, so it'll be you, me and the officers. I think Laswell has flown in as well," you stared at Price.

With a few blinks, you looked down to think. Ghost had already spoken with the officers? You knew what the rules were like, and you knew that your career was now in his hands. It pissed you off, if you could really focus on feeling much outside of pain.

"The officers are trying to get him to make a decision on your career. I can't let you two talk about anything yet, the Adjutant Officers still need to figure things out before you'll be allowed near each other," Price looked away, your jaw tensing. You really had no rights anymore, did you?

It took another few days before you were released. The second you had clothes of your own to wear, you were gone off into your room.

Someone had been here. You could smell a stale scent, but you weren't able to place it. It was too distant to be able to decipher, but your room was exactly the same as it had been left before you were hospitalized. You didn't feel comfortable in your room, knowing someone had been here.

A knock on the door made you spin, nerves set tight. As you opened the door, a large figure came into view.

"Doc," Ghost started, before being yanked into your room and having the door slammed behind him. You turned on him, staring at him sharply. You pointed, opening your mouth before shutting it and groaning, running hands through your hair.

You kept trying to start talking before you stopped yourself, eventually kicking at the wall in irritation.

"What did you say to them?" You hissed, back still turned and facing the wall. You could hear him shift behind you, boots scuffing against the ground. You turned, storming up to him, chest to chest. "What the hell did you tell them? You gonna dismantle my career? Make me some fucking house-omega?" You were growling now, you could feel your muscles tensing.

When he didn't respond, you groaned, tossing your hands up in defeat and walking away from him. You turned, hand on your hip, waiting for a response.

"I don't want to take your career away," he whispered, finally. You barked a laugh, rubbing your wrist against your bitten gland. His hand reached out to grab you, but you moved away from him. "I don't want to make decisions for you," he added, voice growing more desperate.

You shook your head, pulling your hand away from your gland and shaking them out. Ghost reached out to you again, hand catching your shoulder before you shrugged him off.

"I don't know what to do," you whispered. "I'm terrified, because now I'm outed to so many people, and there's quite literally nothing I can do to save myself," you turned to look at Ghost.

He scoffed. "You think I'm going to ruin things for you? I've already told you, I don't want that kind of control over you," he looked away, crossing his arms. You could smell the distress on him.

"You have done shit to make me trust you!" Your voice raised before dropping, a hand running down your face. "I have zero control left, you know how many rights I have as a mated Omega?" He shook his head. "None," you glared at him.

Ghost glanced at you before looking away again. He shook his head, moving to leave before you blocked the door from him.

"You don't get to walk out when we're talking," you growled at him and he growled back.

"This isn't a conversation, this is you getting all pissy on me," he loomed over you, forcing you to take a step back. "I didn't want this to happen, I would have chosen any other way to save us, but we didn't get a choice, did we?" You looked away.

"Get out,"

He could smell the distress on you the second he spoke. Your scent left him spiraling, he was panicking. His Omega was distressed, and he was the cause. He wanted to fix it, correct the problem and make you happy again.

Ghost could do nothing when you repeated yourself.

"Get the hell out," you glared at him. Ghost opened his mouth to give you a retort, but you had turned away. He bit his tongue, turning to stare at the door.

"You know that's not what I meant," he whispered, opening the door and leaving.

Even after walking aimlessly for ten minutes, he could still smell your distress on your scent, the sour taste stuck on the back of his throat. This wasn't how he had intended to talk to you, he wanted to make a plan for when they asked him more questions regarding your career.

Ghost was pissed off, more so with himself than you, but he wanted to comfort you. Fix what he had said, take it back.

But he had a meeting to attend, and he needed to make sure he didn't say anything wrong.

You sat in the conference room, Price, Laswell and an Adjutant officer sitting across from you. This was the third time you'd gone over what had happened.

"So you say this 'Maple Syrup' is what caused Ghost to go into a feral rut?"

"Yes," you deadpanned, glaring through the Adjutant. "We've already been through all of this, there is literally nothing else that I haven't told you," the Adjutant hummed.

"We need to make sure everything is covered," he told you, looking at the paper he had been writing on for the past hour and a half.

You looked at Price, hoping he would help you in any way. He looked away, leaning further back into his seat.

"What about my career?" The room went silent, the Adjutant stopped reading, glancing over at Price who had finally looked at you. "I want to know what's happening," you whispered. The last few days had left you unsure of yourself. You wanted to confront Ghost, you wanted to apologize for snapping at him, you wanted to fix what you'd said.

None of them spoke, Laswell had opened her mouth to speak before closing it, taking a deep breath. Her fingers tapped on the table, looking at Price and the Adjutant.

She looked back at you. "You aren't allowed to make any decisions regarding that, you know," your head dropped back with a groan, wrist rubbing against your bitten gland roughly. You were terrified, you didn't know what the future was going to hold.

You had so little control and it was getting worse. You stood abruptly, going to walk out the door before Price spoke.

"Would you like to speak with Ghost?" You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. With people around, you wouldn't snap on him, but you also didn't want to see him since his last remarks. You really needed to know if you still worked here, or if he was going to force you to become a house-omega.

You nodded, turning around and sitting back down while staring Price down as he made a phone-call. A few moments later, Ghost walked in and sat beside you, but you still couldn't look at him. It was silent for a few minutes, everyone looking at each other, waiting for the first to speak.

"You still have a job here," Ghost spoke up. "I didn't let them remove you, but they won't allow you on missions anymore," he added the last part quietly. You nodded.

You could hear Price and Laswell ushering the Adjutant Officer out of the room, the door closing with a click behind them. Neither you nor Ghost talked for a few minutes, you could smell a certain level of stress on him.

"Thank you," you whispered, glancing quickly at him. He was staring at you, eyes watching your every twitch and shudder. "I'm... sorry, for the other day," you fiddled with your fingers. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

Ghost shook his head, hesitating before grabbing your hand, pulling it close to him and in turn tugging you towards him. You finally turned to look at him, and his eyes visibly softened.

He looked down, then back up to you. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said what I did. Not in the way I did," he tugged you even closer to him, nuzzling into your gland. "I don't regret having you as my mate now, but if I could've changed what I did, you wouldn't be stuck with me making decisions for you now," you leaned in to him, pressing your face into his chest.

It relaxed you, his scent, and allowed you to think much clearer.

"I'm just so scared,"

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izvmimi · 7 months ago

Text

cw: selfship-coded. sappy. first kiss. isekai elements referenced if you pay attention. aged-up characters to early 20s. reader is part of the corps however not from time period nor country. love triangle.

Tanjiro is exactly where you expect him to be when you find yourself unable to turn in for the night, slipping your feet into tabi slippers, and finding the courtyard where he trains.

You’re no longer at the Ubuyashiki Estate these days but at the Butterfly Mansion, a welcome reprise from the rest of the Hashira with the subset of your comrades you’re most comfortable with - your best friends, in the same predicament as you, slumber in their own respective bedrooms. You can imagine that one has slipped into the room with Genya at some point in the night, and the other is probably asleep, her own gentleman (gentle really only with her and perhaps his pet beetle) caller having sent word that he’d be visiting in the morning. The Butterfly Mansion is truly a beautiful, restful place compared to the bustle of the estate but your heart has been aflutter ever since you came here.

You hate to admit it, but Kanao gets under your skin.

For a moment, as from afar you watch Tanjiro practice his strike for what may very well be the thousandth time that night, you stand transfixed, wondering if it is worth it to break his concentration to tell him what’s been on your mind. After all, perhaps all this for him it’s something silly and inconsequential, something you’ve only built up in your mind. The draw to him may not be something real even, and even if it were, you are not destined to stay in this land or even this time period.

Whether or not you like him doesn’t matter. Whether or not you love him is moot. You can’t stay. Knowing how he feels about the situation will not serve to clear the muddy waters, plus you have never been one to draw unnecessary love triangles, anyway.

Before you can let your own misgivings overtake you and turn tail, Tanjiro spots you from afar.

He calls your name loudly, one last strike before his sword is sheathed, and set by the trunk of the nearest cherry blossom tree. He’s fast, and before you know it, he’s by you, grinning widely as he does when he’s excited, despite the exhaustion evident in the very marrow of his bones, communicated by the sheen of sweat overlying tense, overworked muscles.

“You’re up,” he says, and you try to come up with the best way to organize your thoughts. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, carefully. He’s moving back to where he’s left his sword, but this time he’s taken your hand gently, pulling you along as one does a small child. He has the tendency to do this, reach out to you without considering it first, still unable to understand the effect his touch has on you. He hasn’t picked up on the fact that you let only him and your closest friends touch you casually, and you wonder how he would take it if he realized.

Has he realized yet how special he is to you?

Your mouth opens then closes as he unsheathes his sword again, and puts himself back in stance, throwing a glance at you to make sure you’re out of striking distance.

“Is it okay if I keep going? I assume you want to talk, but I’m not done. I can still listen, though.”

You nod then look around. Part of you is surprised Kanao isn’t out here, watching him with loving steady eyes, a mind that is as unreadable as her feelings are obvious. You can’t tell if she sees you as a threat or not, or if she sees you at all. But she’s nice. And you are nice.

That’s all you are to each other and this arrangement is what you wish it could remain.

Regardless, Aoi’s words have unsettled you.

I know how you feel and I’ve felt that way, but Kanao needs him.

Just thinking about how she practically accosted you, while well-meaning, terribly abrasive, you can feel your teeth clench.

You haven’t done anything wrong except be yourself. You don’t know how to control the fact that he gravitates towards you. You haven’t tried to seduce him; you understand the roles of girl code, that she was there first, that she loved him first, that she was by his side when he was comatose, when he was fighting, when he was becoming what he is now, and you have no right and yet-

“Talk to me.”

Tanjiro pauses, and he’s looking at you again, eyes washing over you in the moonlight as though they’re looking for any pain he can assuage. It hurts how he can care about you so deeply, like the most attentive of lovers, when all you’re fated for is a short-lived friendship. You have to remind yourself constantly that he does this for everyone, he loves everyone this tenderly, and thus let your heart stop racing, but there’s not much you can do when all you can think of is the way your lips met just days ago.

It wasn’t a kiss. Kisses are for people who love each other. Kisses are for him and Kanao. He is not for you, nothing is for you, everything is for Kanao.

“Kanao is in love with you,” you blurt out, and immediately regret it.

You can see his body tense, and then he breathes out slowly. You watch him move, and you can feel the night chill suddenly intensify, your arms wrapping around yourself for warmth but for comfort. Your body is trembling. Why did you say that? Everyone knows. It’s not a secret that they’ve been fated for each other for the past several years, long before you tumbled into this world that doesn’t in any way belong to you.

“I know.”

Heat rushes through your body. It’s the worst answer he could have possibly given you, polite and patronizing at once. He’s watching you carefully now, eyes matching your gaze, his hands running through his hair.

“I’m glad you know,” you finally convince yourself to say, trying to prevent your voice from cracking. Heartstrings taut to snapping, you try desperately to come up with a way to change the subject. You don’t care to hear about how easily he returns her feelings or any other part of their love story, whatever you’re not privy to.

“We’re supposed to head out in a couple of days, maybe you shouldn’t tire yourself out like this.” you offer. You turn your head from him, your hand on the tree trunk before you, pretending that the ridges of the bark are of particular interest to you now, although it’s mainly to catch a few errant tears threatening to escape your lash line. “When do you sleep?”

“__.”

He calls your name again, softer this time. Your heart sinks into your stomach. You can’t discuss this anymore.

“The soup Kanzaki-san made today was quite delicious, don’t you think? I have to ask for the recipe.”

There is a pause that is far too loud, and you’re now frozen stiff, holding back tears. You know he will not let you move on, but the idea of rejection in the middle of the night is just too much for you to bear.

Lovesick. Truly lovesick you are at this venture in time, and the fantasy has to last just a little bit longer. It’s all you have going for you in this awful situation, the dream that even if you’re trapped here slaying monsters for an indeterminate length of time, away from family and the technology you took for granted, perhaps he can smile and warm you like the sun.

“I think Inosuke may have said my name right today, Tanjiro, isn’t that so funny?!”

You laugh, but it’s coming out disingenuous, a sound not unlike a barking sick cough.

“___,” he says again, his voice even softer now, pleading with you to manage your own font of emotions.

It’s too much.

You turn quickly and whisper something about being tired and needing to leave, and the moment you walk past him, he grips your wrist again, stopping you in your tracks.

Your heart thumps.

“I don’t love her.”

Your head shakes automatically even if it’s what you wanted so desperately to hear. “I think you should,” you say in the smallest of whispers.

Your hand pulls but Tanjiro doesn’t let go, instead stepping around to face you. Your head is turned downwards but gently, he takes your chin and raises it up to his face. You look away, but you’re biting your lip and the tears are starting to well up again. Your heart is racing out of control.

This isn’t what you want, but it is. You must still be dreaming, never having left the security of your bed.

“Why are you crying?”

Concern dripping in his voice, he’s thumbing away tears that you’re too embarrassed to explain.

“I…” you trail off. There’s no excuse, really.

“What do you want me to tell you, __?” Tanjiro asks. It’s a harsh question but it’s said with firm kindness; the gentle glow in his crimson eyes are patient still.

That you love me as much as I do you, you think, then dispel. Preposterous.

“I’m not sure,” you lie. He frowns, the immediately detected deceit disappointing him. He lets go of your chin, then takes both of your hands in his. Your stomach turns as he raises them to his lips.

“Kanao is important to me-” he starts. You wince and pull away, but he holds on tighter, “but you too are important. Very much so.”

“She loves you-” you start, and he quickly rebuts, “I love you.”

And this stuns you to silence.

“You…”

“Yes, you.”

A sharp inhale as your body recovers from sobs racks your body. Tanjiro pulls your knuckles to his lips and kisses, and you find your breathing erratic again.

“Tanjiro,” you start, and he pulls your face closer.

“I’ve loved you for a really long time,” he says, and the adoration in his eyes makes it so clearly true, sparkling in the moonlight. Your mind’s eye spins memories like films, every time he’s been too close, every time he’s been too careful, every time he’s wanted to be with you above everyone else.

“Are you sure?” you ask. It’s the lamest of things that you can ask but you have to hear it from him, the man who loves everything and everyone, that would choose anything before himself.

“As sure as my blade.”

Your lips meet in a kiss that dizzies you before you can find his last statement cheesy. When the haze clears, you think of Aoi again, you see Kanao in your mind’s eye watching Tanjiro, butterflies in her hair.

“What about Kanao? She needs you.”

“I need you.”

He kisses you again, and this time you’ve lost all your reservations, perhaps too easily, your arms reaching around his neck to deepen the kiss. You’ve never needed to tell him you loved him because it was written all over your face. It’s a part you’ve hated about yourself, that no matter how badly you’ve tried to limit your emotions, all comes spilling out through your words and actions. He might have known before you even did, your penchant for devotion spilling into every word you spoke to him, smiles you couldn’t quite temper.

Your friends saw it, Aoi saw it, Kanao saw it, the heavens above must have seen it.

Most importantly, he saw it.

The tears remain free-flowing, now cathartic. You breathe in his love as he continues to kiss you, your lips, your neck craned, your back now supported by the tree that knows your poorly-kept secret.

“Tanjiro, I love you,” you admit finally, your noses just inches apart, breathless.

“I know,” he whispers. He smiles and kisses your neck. “And I’m so glad.”

#tanjiro x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #kamado tanjiro x reader #demon slayer x reader #daydreams: kny #mimi's notes #tanjimimi

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jymwahuwu · 7 months ago

Note

Last one was great!

Poor arrogant reader soon will be fired from her position as head of the Family for some fabricated case, she is now basically jobless with all her belongings and money arrested and guards are not letting her leave Penacony.

She is such a mess now, so stresssed out with her career ruined she isnt even noticing that she hadnt got her period for several months.

But who will she come for help, who will accept a mess like her at such low point of her life?🤔

Of course our angelic prick will take her in. Reader doesnt have a choice to be honest. She doesnt have money to pay for shelter, food and medical care for her condition anymore?

I also hc Penacony being really expensive place especially in terms of healthcare. And abortions are strictly prohibited.

Well, clean house, homemade meals and some other nightly services could cover those expences. Our arrogant girlie will have to humble herself a bit.

And kid being born out of wedlock? Not on Sunday's watch!

Imagine some time later her former coworkers, heads of other Families or her former subordinates witnessing reader going out for groceries or just going out for a walk with Sunday holding her hand firmly?

She does not seems like arrogant bitch anymore, her belly is swollen, clothes are modest, matching rings at couple's fingers.

so sorry for the long delay in replying!!

I've been meaning to find the time to write this... and thank you for writing it in such detail. super love the content about arrogant reader get humiliated. this is awesome 😽💗💖 sunday brings it all to you but you started it first, right?

part 1

cw: yandere, dub-con, brainwashing, mind control, housewife kink, pregnancy, inappropriate traditional concepts (language about serving husband and family)

Sunday used to always forgive your arrogance and intrigue, but that's the past.

Since you like this trick so much, Sunday brings these back to you. In this dreamy and fallen city, your reputation is completely destroyed in half an hour. (He was at the party, shaking his glass and socializing with the guests.) Some Bloodhound family guards burst into your office and led you away , in full view of everyone and a lot of chatter. They grabbed your hands and dragged you forward. (He stretched his hands into fists, put them to his lips and chuckled.) It was almost a crime of betrayal to Xipe and The Family. Listen to harsh words and sign documents. (The money ejected from the machine flies into the sky. The scale of the clock is turning.)

These days of interrogation have left you exhausted. One day, you open the door to your home with the usual verification, but there is a notice on the door that it has been sealed and frozen. That was locked and confiscated. A cold stab of fear stabbed your back. There is no way to book a hotel room or rent a new house. Your bank account is also blocked.

The final straw is the realization that you haven't had your period in months. Used the last of your credit points to take a pregnancy test. The result is a baby growing inside you. There was no doubt that it was that wing bastard's baby. A baby destined to have a halo and wings.

Your eyes were sore, and tears welled up in your eyes and flowed down your cheeks.

The eyes of birds these days are staring at you from every height, corner, and alley. Your pregnancy test results are sent to Sunday's phone. His glove patted your back gently. He whispers to you, the aura continuing to send out gentle waves, shushing you. You whimpered, pushing him away in annoyance. "Get away, you bastard!"

"I just did to you what you've always wanted to do to me. Don't make a fuss." The rising corners of the oak leader's mouth only added fuel to his raging anger at you. What happened to him? He's really terrible! You point at him and take a few steps back. "Don't fucking touch me! You hypocrite."

He frowned.

"No swearing."

"What the fuck-" Just like last time, a cheerful and harmonious arrangement of notes penetrated your mind. That ethereal and strange light appears before your eyes and captures your thoughts. You obediently followed Sunday to his mansion.

What Sunday offers you comes at a price. He provided for you, after all, didn't he? You can no longer be so arbitrary, arrogant and rude. You need to pray at the dinner table, kiss him on the cheek, and be grateful to Xipe and the nutritious food he provides you. Or have him pinch your cheeks and feed you. Now that you have no job and no money, you should have time to sweep the floor, right? Keeping the house tidy is important. He checked the dust on the vase and scanned the floor. Of course don’t forget to suck his cock and spread your legs at night. He will be very, very careful. (Sex during pregnancy is always slow. You whimper when milk is secreted from your buds.)

And witnessing that humiliation! Yes, in the past, you and he competed in the workplace, and the atmosphere was tense. Everyone knows you hate Sunday. And now other family members can see the changes in you. You held his hand tightly, intertwining your fingers with your belly swollen. Those luxurious clothes of the past have disappeared, replaced by your simple, loose skirts.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail x you #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #honkai x reader

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 14 days ago

Text

The Beast and The Sweetest Cherry

Part One

Warnings: SMUT, Virgin!OC, Period Drama, Angst, Dark, Beauty and The Beast, Arranged Marriage.

Summary: Just outside a small town up near a chilly mountain range, lies a large black manor, home to a cruel Lord with a dark secret. The town lives with a strict set of rules that keeps them safe, and avoid the bad tempered Lord's wrath as much as they can. One day, a young girl offers herself up to the cruel Lord leading to passionate disarray when the virgin meets the Beast.

The Beast had promised wealth to restore her father’s fortunes and more. They assured her that the Beast wouldn’t kill her.

“No,” a deep voice rumbled behind her. She hadn’t heard the Beast arrive.

He stood back, tall and broad shouldered as her father had said, watching from the depths of his cloak. The winter wind caught the black folds, whipping them tight against his massive body, but never stirred around his face. Venus couldn’t make out his features, though she thought perhaps she caught the gleam of a white tooth. And was that the shadow of a muzzle?

She shuddered, looking away quickly.

“No, Venus,” the Beast said, “I will never take you by force. I will only take you when you ask me to. That one choice, at least, will always be yours.”

Venus stirred uneasily inside the confines of her gown. Something about his words seemed…unwholesome somehow. She could not see him clearly, and she was under the impression that he was hideous. Too hideous to reveal himself. Venus rubbed her arm nervously beneath her sheer and very revealing white night gown. Her chocolate ringlets cascaded over her shoulders and down her back like a wild flower. It had been a full day since they exchanged vows. Venus refused to leave the room. It wasn’t her official room, The Beast was still preparing that one.

She’d been nervous indeed. This would be their first night together. Venus was too afraid to face him days prior after their marriage.

“Am I ever to see you?” Venus asked with a timid voice.

The sound of his deep breath made the hairs on her arms stand up.

“Do you wish to?”

Venus glanced back at his black silhouette with fearful eyes before quickly looking away again.

“It might be easier for me…to get accustomed to you, Sir.”

“You see, Venus, that’s one thing I’ll have to control. These things are best done in stages. I intend to win you over, my Venus, but we’ll take it slow…”

Venus tried to calm the tremble of her body.

“I–I don’t see how that’s possible, Sir.”

A dark, menacing chuckle filled the room. Venous shut her eyes, the sound of her breathing rising.

“You’re innocent, Venus,” The Beast said, his voice nearly a growl, “And you have not discovered how I can make you feel.”

“I have. You make me feel fear. And revulsion.” Venus trekked over to the grand window, her doe eyes watching the raging snow storm outside, “Despair, perhaps.”

“None of those are real, Venus”

She forced herself to look at him. “I must tell you, I don’t see how I can ever be your wife in truth. I cannot imagine asking you to—”

“To what? take your maidenhead? To rend you with my dick so that you scream in agonized pleasure?”

The shock drained Venus’ body of the ability to move. Even as the image somehow stirred her.

“Sir—Beast, you cannot say such things to me.” Venus retorted with a shaky voice.

The bite of his words and that monstrous voice had her shivering as if she were standing in the snow nearing frostbite.

“It seems, my bride, that we must stretch your imagination as well. The only thing I may not do is take you by force. Everything else is open to me.” He settled back in a very masculine satisfaction. “If you intend to keep the bargain that saved your father’s life, that is.”

Venus bit her lip. Her father had wept even as he handed her into the Beast’s carriage. Had he realized? Her virginity wouldn’t matter at the end of the week if she was dead. She slowly walked back to the bed and turned her back to him. Her eyes fell solemnly to her lap, and as he drew closer, she couldn’t control her body from shaking with terror.

“Venus.” The Beast leaned forward. She shrank back, but he only laid a gloved hand over hers, “I swear I will not injure you. Your beauty is precious to me. I would not see it marred in any way. I want you to feel safe with me, despite what they speak of me beyond these walls. I will not hurt you. I would never…”

She restlessly moved her hands out from under the black leather of his glove. A mistake, since his hand fell to her knee instead, a heavy weight through the thin cloth. The weight on her small limb awakened something she’d never felt.

“I will wish to see it, however,” the Beast said, gravel in his voice.

Venus’ heart stuttered. “See it?”

“You, in your naked glory. In exchange, I will not touch you just yet.” He leaned back again. “I mention it now so that you might mull the idea over.”

Venus drew in a breath, “I do not think I shall become peaceful with the idea in that space of time.”

“You mistake me, my bride. Peaceful is not how I want you.”

If he’d intended her to think about it, to imagine herself naked and vulnerable in front of his black-cloaked figure, then he succeeded.

“I want you to learn your body…and I intend on guiding you through it…I want you ruined. I want you overcome with desire so intense you can’t form proper sentences…”

The Beast held out his hand towards her and Venus placed her dainty hand in the middle of his massive palm. His thick, dangerous fingers curled around her hand and with the slightest tug, Venus was on her feet and staring up at The Creature that stood at 6’7 with a massive built.

He didn’t drag her along, but neither did the Beast release her hand. The grand house blurred around her as she frantically tried to think of a way out.

“I’m dizzy, Sir…”

“Excellent,” he purred.

“Truly, Husband.” Venus stopped, placed a trembling finger to her temple, and stared steadfastly at the black cloaked chest before her. “I have a pain in my head and—”

“VENUS.”

His tone slammed through her. All stern disapproval and warning.

“Yes?” She barely got the word out.

“You may address me as ‘my lord’, ‘Sir’, or ‘Beast.’ If you call me ‘Husband’ again, I will assume you are ready for me to assume my full husbandly rights. Understood?”

“Yes. My lord.”

“Then let us proceed.”

Venus once again struggled to keep pace with his long strides, until the dark hallway opened into the most glorious atrium.

Woes temporarily forgotten, Venus gazed in wonder at the glass walls and ceiling sparkling in the evening. Moonlight flooded the room from three sides and roses, blood-red roses, filled every corner. Here and there, graceful sculptures peeked between the blooms.

Velvet crimson spills, mounds and waterfalls, the roses tumbled out of urns and thrust up from beds built into the floor. The roses Father had brought surely came from these.

Venus realized she stood alone in the middle of the floor. The Beast had settled into a grand chair, massive as a throne, studded with iron rings in various places. It was perfectly situated so that he might survey the room. And everything in it.

“As you can see, I enjoy beauty. Now, it’s time to enjoy yours,” The Beast relaxed into the chair and his enormous and powerful thighs spread wide, “Venus, I want you to remove that thin gown and place it on that table, right there, “He waved a languid hand towards a table situated against the wall, “You will find a pair of heels there…slip them on.”

Venus eased herself towards the table with timid movement. She stopped before the table and willed herself to calm down. The voice in her head told her to calm down and do as he commanded.

“Venus, the longer you take, the greater the punishment.”

“P–punishment? I thought you said you wouldn’t hurt me—”

“And I won’t. Not all punishment warrants violence, Venus,” The Beast leaned forward in the chair, “Have you ever heard of inflicting pain for pleasure? A spanking for instance?”

Venus shuddered.

“Were I you”—he settled back in the chair—“I wouldn’t give away opportunities for punishment. But that’s entirely your choice. You’ve earned one punishment for your hesitation. Proceed with my instructions.”

With trembling fingers, Venus reached up to pull the straps of her thin gown past her shoulders, her back facing him. The Beast, however, did not seem inclined to urge her to move more quickly. His head once again propped on his fist, he watched her from the shadows of his hood.

Venus felt the fabric pool around her feet. She stroked her arm nervously, too afraid to turn around. The Beast, however, made a sound deep within his chest that made her whimper. She startled herself. Venus ran her fingers through her hair, shaking out the formal coils her sisters had twisted in.

“Turn.”

Turn? Venus’ heart skipped a beat.

“Are you hesitating, Venus?”

“I’m…nervous…”

“You need not be…it’s just you and I…now turn.”

His rasp spurred her.

The Beast heaved himself out of the throne and moved toward her. Venus closed her eyes, unable to bear it. He stopped behind her, his presence radiating a heat so intense. She could hear rustling, and then the sound of his gloves hitting the table. Venus’ eyes flicked to the large gloves and then down at her bare feet. The sound of fabric moving gained her attention. She caught a glimpse of his yellow eyes and it rendered her speechless. He picked up the heels and handed them to her from behind.

“Take them. Slip them on. And turn.”

From his tone, she sensed his frustration at her disobedience. Venus accepted the heels; black patent leather pumps, and went to work slipping them on. She stood a few inches taller, but still nothing compared to how tall The Beast is. He returned to his seat and the distance between them gave Venus enough courage to continue. Venus began to turn, her finger twiddling bashfully, when she fully faced him. Her doe eyes sought him out before glancing down at her heeled feet.

She stood there forever it seemed. Frozen while he just stared at her. When he finally spoke, she thought she might whither away.

“Lift your head. You look at me, Venus.”

She stared at him with a flutter of her lashes. Her breath shuttered through her and her heart beat so fast against her chest cavity.

“Come to me…”

Her heels against the floor was so loud it almost drowned out her breathing. To stand before him was a battle. She fought hard to look at him and when his clawed finger ghosted over her exposed skin on her hip she couldn’t contain herself. She moaned. She was exposed and vulnerable to this Beast and his touch made her moan. Was her body betraying her. Blood pulsed through her, pounding in her breasts and pooling down to her groin.

“Mmm…”

He could sense her arousal.

Shoulders back. Your breasts are gorgeous, Venus—so full and round. Thrust them forward. Place your hands behind your back…just like that…”

Venus was aware of her thick nipples hardening beneath his gaze. A tingle crept over her skin and her thighs clenched.

“…I love your nipples. Nice and big. I’m impatient to try some tricks to keep them stiff. By the time I’m done, you’ll be able to do nothing but think of how your nipples feel.”

Venus trembled violently, hot tears suddenly spilling down her cheeks.

“Why do you weep? Turn in a slow circle.”

She complied but didn’t answer the question.

“Venus, I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”

“You’re so cruel,” she cried, “treating me like this.”

“All beasts are cruel. It is my nature. And for now I merely admire. Wouldn’t any bridegroom expect to see you so?”

His haunting eyes glided over her body and when it reached her bushy lower lips, a tongue so long slithered out of his mouth and sharp teeth gleamed like a predator to its prey.

“Fuck…you are tempting me, Venus…that body on you…mmm…fucking beautiful…”

She felt a flutter in her belly from his words.

“Turn…bend…”

Venus looked back at him over her shoulder as her back arched forward, bringing her ass within his line of vision. The deep groan of satisfaction that spilled from his lips made her contain herself own sounds of desire. How quickly this Beast could make her feel such dirty thoughts…

“I can’t wait to have you. And I know you feel the same. No matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise…”

Venus remained silent.

“As for your punishment, I hadn’t anticipated that you would need correction so soon. But I think it’s best for you to learn quickly, don’t you?”

“I…I don’t want to be punished.”

“You don’t have a say in the matter…I’m your Lord…you do as I say…hear me?”

Venus’ lower lip trembled.

“Sir, please…I don’t want it.” Venus pleaded.

“Ah, but I wish it. And I think you’ll find it’s good for you. You’ve been petted and spoiled. While I intend to pet you, my sweet, you’ll find that I’m most interested in your character. You don’t wish to deny me my few pleasures?”

“No, my lord.”

“I shall decide for you, then. It shall be tonight. You may lower your hands and find your chambers. Return down the hallway and follow the light that guides you.”

Venus didn’t waste time scurrying off and out of sight.

——

Her chambers were beyond grand. Enormous faceted windows looked out over the gardens. Though ringed round by the dense and grasping forest, the grounds looked meticulously manicured, gracefully proportioned. Beautiful. No wonder Father had thought it a sanctuary.

Venus had found the rooms by following a light, indeed. A little will-o’-the-wisp had popped out of the woodwork in the hallway. She followed its pink bobbing path, soothing herself by pulling her hair over her breasts to shield them and holding her hands over the place between her legs. She didn’t dare remove the shoes, however, until she reached her room.

There was no promised gown.

Instead Venus found a short, silk robe lying across the foot of the immense four-poster bed. The fine white silk was so translucent that it hid nothing. After putting it on anyway, since it was meagerly better than being completely nude, she glimpsed herself in the full-length mirror. Her black hair tumbled in coils. Her eyes looked huge in her face, the dark centers edging out the pure hazel. Venus could see her nipples pressing taut against the silk and the deep V at the juncture of her thighs. This is what the Beast had seen.

He’d seen her this way. Venus stroked her hips as she turned every which way, admiring her hourglass shape. The time alone in that room until The Beast called for her gave her a moment to accept that she’d had some attraction towards him. Although marrying a monster hiding deep within enchanted woods wasn’t on her agenda, she wasn’t completely put–off by it. He hadn’t killed her. He actually wanted her. Truly wanted her. And she’d never experienced that.

The innocent girl who’d dressed for her wedding on that haunting morning had disappeared. This girl looked ravished already. In a way, she supposed she had been.

And this was just the beginning.

Venus explored her new room and marveled at the extraordinary detail and how extravagant it was. The wardrobe was filled with all sorts of clothes and shoes and there was a vanity covered with perfumes, oils, jewelry, and makeup. Everything she ever needed. A soft patter at her door made her jump back.

“Miss? Your Lord would like for you to freshen before returning to him.”

It was one of the servants.

“Thank you. I’ll be ready in a minute.”

Venus hurried towards her own bathroom, finding the tub already filled. She knew that castle held a magical force. Venus pinned her curls above her head and used a lavender scented soap. She washed away whatever she could, telling herself to relax and embrace her new life as a wife. Her thoughts drifted to sex with him. The sponge against her brown skin paused, the soap suds gliding.

She knew he had to be big down there. How would he feel inside of her. Spreading her. Bottoming out in her…

“Oh, goodness,” Venus placed a hand to her chest.

So much for being brave.

She was scared out of her mind. She wasted time staring at the tap dripping, the water beneath her growing cold. Venus lifted from the bath and grabbed a towel, securing it around her before entering her room. She went to work slathering fragrant lotion on her smooth skin and after letting her hair down, she fluffed it out and turned her gaze onto the silk robe he’d left for her.

No delaying, then, unless she wanted to sit in the dark. And Venus felt sure she didn’t want the Beast to come looking for her.

Suddenly, an invisible force began moving about the room, like a ghost. Venus gasped, eyes wide with fear, the doors to her wardrobe opening and after a moment, fresh stockings and a pair of ribbon garters. Not the ones she’d worn that morning before her wedding—these were sheer red and softer than rain. The crimson ribbons matched the boned scarlet satin corset. Venus could don the stockings herself, but she was dubious about the corset. When she slipped it on, though, invisible fingers tugged the laces into place.

Tightly.

Venus ended up grasping the edge of the tall table with her room to brace herself. When they released her, she saw herself in the full-length mirror, the thatch of glossy dark hair where her thighs met framed by the red stockings. The scarlet corset that fitted down over her hips, cinched her waist tightly and rising to a shelf under her breasts, cupping them as if they were some sort of pastry, her nipples nearly as hard as marble

She looked away. Looked for the gown. Only the red heels awaited, mysteriously transported from the other room.

“He promised me a gown,” Venus muttered to herself. “Perhaps it’s in the other room.”

But when she started toward the bedchamber, the dressing-room door flew closed, even as a chair in front of a vanity mirror slid out invitingly. The shoes slid in front of her. She had to get her nerves in check. She allowed the invisible maids to doll her up further and when they stopped, Venus admired the work they’d done and she gawked at her appearance. She looked like a vixen waiting to get fucked.

Oh goodness.

The pink light from before appeared before her eyes, Venus realizing that the light is what helped her get prepared. She tilted her head at it. How interesting.

He was waiting. She needed to hurry. Before she could leave, a long, flowing red gown with tight gloves attached levitated towards her. Venus gave the pink glow one final look before placing the red gown around her body and leaving the room.

——

Two timid knocks and his booming voice commanded her to enter. Venus crossed the threshold into what looked like a den. The Beast awaited her in his parlor. He stood before a roaring fire, wearing a black satin cloak, the folds of the hood, as always, deeply shadowing his face.

“Venus, you look lovely tonight. How fare you? Are your chambers suitable?”

A bit taken aback by his solicitous tone, Venus paused. “My chambers are more than suitable. I… Thank you for thinking of my wishes.”

The Beast inclined his head. “Anything you wish for, just ask.”

Venus held up her brocade-confined hands. “I’d like a proper gown.”

He chuckled. “In this, you will indulge me. That gown suits my purposes.”

“It will make it most difficult for me to comply, my lord.”

“I shall be delighted to assist you. Shall we? Unless you’d prefer a glass of wine before we go to bed?”

She shook her head and slipped her muffled hand through his arm.

“The gown suits you.”

Venus felt sure he studied her breasts. She glanced down and saw what she had thought a modest drape of satin now rode low over her pushed-up breasts. The cloth barely clung to her nipples, which stood out, turgid and sensitive.

“Come, don’t be afraid. We will only do as you wish tonight. But know this…” The Beast tilted her chin up at him, “You will be begging for more of me.”

Venus swallowed spit. The Beast guided her past the parlor and into a magnificent room. The room she would be sharing with him. The room she would be curled up in his arms. Having sex with him…kissing him…

The Beast picked Venus up bridal–style, and sat her on the bed. She looked up at him, watching with unwavering eyes as he removed his cloak. Her eyes fell upon a rather handsome face. Although he was a Beast, it was undeniable how attractive he is. She had never seen paintings of him in his human form, but she knew in her mind that he was a sight to behold.

“I want you to turn onto your stomach…”

Venus’ gaze dropped down to the beast removing a belt from his waist. He still had the body of a man covered in fur. His large hands moved fluently and Venus was stuck in a trance.

“Venus…what did I just say?”

She turned, the image of his features etched into her brain.

The bed dipped and his imposing frame settled behind her on his knees. He lifted her into an arched position, Venus gasping. His fingers raised the fabric of the gown over her waist, exposing her naked ass and pussy from behind. Venus felt heat creeping over her skin. He growled like the wild beast he is with curved horns, sharp teeth, and vicious eyes. But his lips…so plump…and his tongue so long…

Whack!

“My Lord!”

Whack! Whack! Whack!

Venus tried to stop him from spanking her but he pinned her wrists behind her back tightly with his free hand.

“Keep still and take this punishment, Venus. I have to teach you now…before I give you pleasure,” he popped her on the ass again, “Don’t anger me, baby…”

Venus’ eyes brimmed with tears. She begged and pleaded for him to stop.

“Please, please, Sir, I won’t ever disobey you again! I promise! I’ll be a good wife! I’ll listen!”

The Beast stopped. The sting of his strong hand remained and it burned so good that her clit pulsated. She was turned on and so deeply aroused. Who knew that spanking would make her feel this way? But she wasn’t prepared for the pain of it. It stung tremendously.

“I am happy that you see reason, Venus. Although I enjoyed the feel of this hefty ass against my palm…you’ve learned your lesson…for now…”

He rubbed her skin with tentative strokes. Venus’ eyes rolled shut from the soft grazing. The Beast chuckled at the dazed look on her beautiful face.

“You look so gorgeous like this, Venus…uninhibited…aroused…I’m happy to see you enjoying yourself. Tell me how you’re feeling…be honest with me…I won’t bite…”

Venus locked her glossy lips.

“I…I like it.” She admitted.

“Mmm…I’m very glad to hear that…”

His lips peppered kisses to her ass and Venous let out an angelic moan.

“My Venus…I crave you badly…so fucking much…”

The Beast breathed in her scent from behind. Venus shut her eyes and nibbled on her bottom lip.

“Talk to me, love…tell me what you would like from me tonight…”

Venus knew that it would take time to warm her up. She was too afraid to go all the way tonight, but she did want to experience pleasure. She want The Beast to give her a taste of what it’s like to cum on his tongue. The images replaying in her mind of his long tongue made her wonder what it would be like to feel it between her thighs.

“Venus?”

“I’m sorry, Sir…I…I want you to make me cum…with your tongue….”

She spoke those words so softly, but The Beast caught on to every word. The girth of his enormous dick weakened the seam of his pants. He could faintly hear it rip. She was smart to request cunnilingus. The Beast would need a full day to break her in and Venus would need a full day to recover. They had time. And he would try to be patient, even though the monster within him wanted to break free.

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik killmonger #spooky szn

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ohdeerfully · 8 months ago

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hi! I have a request, I've never really done this before but I'll give it a shot. so my request is that Charlie is tasked by heaven to watch over a very special human soul via a device that is like a full 360 VR kind of setup and this soul just so happens to be Alastor's immortal wife (he didn't know she was) whom he thought had died with him during a bad event and wound up in heaven but she didn't and She stayed the same since the 1930s like her looks stayed the same and her love for Alastor stayed too she never once tried to move on even when her new friends in this time tried to get her a guy but she just refused still wearing the wedding ring her gave her

I hope it's not too much to ask it can be changed to whatever you see if you have full creative control over it!

thank you for your brain anon

theres a couple awkward POV shifts in the story and im super duper sorry about that D: im not good at those

An Eternity

alastor x reader (angst) TW: reader is female, reader gets a lil drunk and drives but shes fine(i do not condone this pls dont drink and drive im so serious), yearning goes ouchie ):

join my discord!

◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈

Alastor rarely, if ever, talked about his time alive. He saw it pointless; a waste of time and energy. How could it benefit him if somebody else knew his history? If anything, it would only open up weak points. And, being an Overlord, he couldn’t afford that.

The only hint of his past was a band on his finger that he never took off. Even after decades in Hell, nobody saw him without it.

People often asked, of course, because how in the Hell did the Radio Demon get hitched? Even in life, he was probably just as unusual and off putting. These questions were always met with a dismissive wave and a laugh, but anybody who knew him—which wasn’t many, truly—would recognize the strain in his voice as he brushed them off. Whatever the story was seemed to only grow more painful with time.

He was deep in thought, humming absently as he trailed through the hotel. He ended up meandering by Charlie’s room, which was cracked open. He took this as an invitation to let himself in, cheerfully grinning as he saw the girl sitting on the edge of her bed looking extremely confused.

“Hello, dear!” He announced himself, standing up straight and fixing his bowtie with one hand. “What does this afternoon have in store for the Princess of Hell?”

“Heyy, Al,” Charlie responded, still frowning at the contraption in her hand. It was a rather bulky thing; an unappealing piece of new technology, Alastor decided. Still, he loomed from behind Charlie with a curious bend in his neck. Her shoulders were stiff, and he couldn’t tell if it was from frustration with the thing in her hand or discomfort at him watching her.

“What is that peculiar thing?” He finally asked, since Charlie made no attempt at explanation. She seemed too focused to really pay him any mind.

“Something Heaven gave me to watch some curious soul they can’t control,” She murmured, fiddling with a couple buttons and knobs. “They’ve got me doing some ridiculous things. I mean, some human soul shouldn’t even concern me. But, they promise these favors will help with my hotel.”

Alastor hummed in response. He of all demons would recognize a manipulation tactic when he saw one—convincing a powerful demon princess to do your chores and promising to help her desperate project in return seemed like something the angels would do. He didn’t care one way or another, as long as Charlie’s naivete didn’t get in the way of his own goals.

He took a few steps back when Charlie stood, seemingly finished with setting up the box. He grinned, amused, when she pulled it over her head. It wasn’t the most flattering thing, and pretty bulky on her face. She looked ridiculous, honestly.

“Modern technology,” He sighed dramatically, leaning down onto his cane as he continued to observe her. “Only getting uglier.”

Charlie didn’t respond to his comment, looking around at what Alastor saw as nothing. She played around with the settings again, and adjusted the straps on her head again, before looking around again. She let out a successful sounding “hell yes” before pulling a remote of sorts from her pocket. She pushed on a joystick.

“What are you doing?” Alastor asked plainly, the building curiosity finally becoming too much. “Why do you have a box on your head?”

“It’s like…” She began to explain, trying to think of how to make sense of it to him. “Like… imagine you were looking through the eyes of somebody else, but still standing in the same spot..?” Her voice tilted at the end, unsure of her explanation.

Yeah, no, Alastor had no clue. But he dismissed it as unnecessary, as he often did with any technology he couldn’t understand.

“I’m seeing… Earth, I guess,” Charlie explained more. “Following around this girl.”

Alastor was only partially listening, humming quietly to himself as he just observed. He wondered if he should just leave—nothing interesting was happening. He was curious to see what antics Heaven was pushing on the Princess of Hell, though.

“Wanna try?” Charlie offered, lifting the headset up away from her eyes. Alastor immediately scrunched his nose up and narrowed his eyes.

“And look as ridiculous as you? Hah! No thank you,” He sat down on a chair near the wall, leaning against the back of it. He threw one leg up over the other. Charlie shrugged in response, and pulled the contraption back down.

Alastor sat for a while, absently thinking about what he wanted to do later as he waited for something to happen.

“Oh! Hold on,” Charlie suddenly said, causing Alastor’s ears to straighten to attention as she reached up and pressed a button. A holographic projection appeared out of nowhere, manifesting through some strange magic. “Forgot I could do that. This is what I’m seeing in here.”

Alastor stood and walked closer, leaning forward on his cane as he studied the projection. It seemed like some kind of bar. He mused at how different modern bars looked from the speakeasies he would frequent during his own life.

“What heavenly task are you doing in a bar?” He joked, trying to find something interesting in the projection. It just seemed like generic bar business. Loud, flirtatious women and boisterous, over confident men. That, at least, was the same from his day.

“Like I said earlier,” Charlie explained, looking around the room. The projection seemed to follow her movement, and Alastor recognized that he was basically seeing through her eyes. How curious. “There’s some… soul they lost control of. And they want me to report to them about her.”

Alastor was very curious to see what kind of soul broke from control of literal heaven. He watched rather intently, leaned forward against his cane to watch the projection.

Charlie turned another knob, and the sound of tacky pop music and loud chatter began to emanate from the bar scene. Alastor wasn’t a fan of newer music, but he was often forced to listen anyway in the hotel lobby.

“Is it possible to turn down that dreadful noise?” He complained to her, announcing his dissatisfaction.

“No. I need to be able to hear what the woman is saying,” Charlie answered stubbornly. Alastor’s microphone of a cane began to obnoxiously play a song of his choice for a moment in retaliation, but died down after a few moments. After all, Charlie ignored his attempt at aggravation, so there was no point in keeping it up.

Charlie looked around the bar, searching. Finally, her gaze settled on a fancier booth with half drawn curtains. From her angle, she could only see a woman. She looked frustrated.

“---get out of your shell! It’s about time you start talking to some guys for once,” Charlie caught the tail end of the woman’s statement. She was gesturing wildly around, exasperation evident in the jagged movements. “I’m sick of watching you pine for somebody who’s been gone for ages.”

★

“Ten years isn’t ages, Mechiele,” You drew your finger against the table, making shapes with the rim of water that the condensation from your glass left. Nearly a hundred years, more like, You commented to yourself. You never told anybody that you were an immortal being. Nobody believed you when you did, anyway.

You sat your cheek against the palm of your hand and lifted your gaze to your friend, who looked at you with a sharp frown. You shot her a weak smile.

“Can you just drop it?” You asked, nearly pleading. You didn’t want to cry tonight, being a little tipsy—you were an emotional drunk. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself blabbering about a dead husband.

“Come on,” Mechiele said impatiently, pushing your pleas aside. “There’s so many hot guys in here, I bet one would just love to take a piece of work like you home and-”

“Mechiele.” You hoped your tone was enough to shut her up.

You should’ve known better, honestly. Mechiele was already abrasive when she was sober, but with the amount of drinks she’s had tonight…

“No, no, no! You bum! Get your ass up right now and get out there! And take that ring off while you’re at it!”

Mechiele quickly lunged at you, a much too playful look in her eye considering how pissed you were right now. You yanked your arm away from her grasp, cupping your hand protectively with the other, shielding the golden band on your finger from her.

“Fucking drop it!” You snapped at her, standing from your seat. “I’m going home. You’re too drunk. I’ll drive.”

“You’re so fucking lame,” Mechiele droned, falling back into her seat. She wouldn’t budge when you urged her to stand and come with you. “He’s fuckin’ dead! Get a new man, already! Alastor’s not-”

Mechiele stopped abruptly when you smacked her. It wasn’t an incredibly hard smack or anything, barely enough to leave a red bloom on her cheek, but it was enough. She looked at you through narrowed eyes. You returned the same expression.

You left the booth and stormed off, cursing under your breath about it all. About Mechiele, about this stupid bar, about the tipsy feeling in your head, about Alastor—

You folded your arms together as you briskly walked to your car, yelling in frustration at your heels and ripping them off your feet. The ground was a little wet and cold, but you didn’t care. After making it to your car, you threw yourself in an switched it on.

You thought for a few moments. You were lightheaded after a few drinks, but you really didn’t want to wait for a taxi. You’d probably be fine, yeah? Sure. Against your better judgment, you began to drive.

It was a long drive, but it gave you some time to think.

You missed him. You pined for him. Nearly every night was agony, missing the presence of the only man you’ve ever fallen in love with.

You cursed whatever higher power there was for making you this way—immortal. How cruel it was, to make you live forever to suffer this longing. You didn’t even notice when you ended up in your room, but you let yourself fall face first onto your bed, curling up into a ball.

Even more, you cursed yourself for ever falling in love. You should’ve known it would only lead to an endless torture of heartbreak. You would never love anybody the same; although, you don’t think you’d want to, even if you could.

You were born to suffer. To spend an eternity in life without him.

★

Charlie continued to watch in shock for a few moments, her mouth dropped at the mention of the Radio Demon’s name. The previously hidden woman stepped from the bar, a furious look in her eyes as she stormed away. Mechiele was left with stubbornly folded arms and an empty glass of alcohol.

“Heyyy, uh, Al, how common is your name..? Do you know…” Charlie asked a bit awkwardly. She got no response. She lifted the headset, and realized he was gone. Even still, there seemed to be a lingering feeling of intense static, and the air somehow felt a bit heavier than before.

★

This had to be some cruel, sick joke, right? Heaven had to be toying with him, finally finding a way to torture his soul. His wife—she was dead. It had been nearly a hundred years since he died, and even if she had lived till she was old—

Alastor was pacing his room, ears pinned and eyes wide in frantic thought. Oh, how he yearned for her. He had managed for so long to push the memory of her away, to lock up his loss in a tight cage as he climbed the ranks of hell; it had all come rushing, barreling, torrenting back when he had seen her—or, no, somebody that looked like her—step out of those curtains. It was only a coincidence that that woman looked like his wife, and only a coincidence that she had a dead husband that shared his name.

His wife was in heaven, no doubt; which was where she belonged, of course, but Alastor had spent the last decade pining for somebody who he could never see again. If given the choice, Alastor wasn’t so sure himself if he was kind enough as to not tear her soul from Heaven and down to Hell by his side. Alternatively, even if Charlie’s idea of redemption were to work, Alastor was truly irredeemable. It was all wistful thinking, anyway.

Alastor’s claws dug into the curtains of his window, staring out into the streets of Hell in an attempt to concentrate on one steady stream of thought.

When billions of people touch the Earth, it’s only natural that coincidences like this rise. Right? He tried desperately to convince himself of different possibilities. It just made no sense.

A knocking at his door made Alastor’s grin curl in deadly malice. He really wasn’t in the mood.

He paced to his door, opened it just enough to fit his body in the frame, and glared down at Charlie. She was wringing her hands together nervously, and only seemed to grow more timid as the heavy, almost palpable ambience of his radio static filled the hallway she stood in.

“I’m busy,” Alastor said bluntly. His lips were curled in a sneer.

“I can tell,” Charlie responded. "I know you don't like talking about yourself-" She began to ramble on about him talking to her about his feelings and whatnot, but Alastor didn’t listen as he shut the door again.

Though, the interruption did give his mind a chance to slow. He sat on a chair in the corner of his room, and opted to fiddle with the radio on the drawer next to him. He tuned it—or, more just magically infused it—to play some jazz to try to keep his head level.

It would take some time to rebuild the dam that held back the memories of his wife. Even just the mere thought of her made him feel weak, and he hated it. The only soul he was capable of falling in love with—gone, forever.

Alastor never took the whole “eternity of damnation” thing seriously, considering the power he held and how comfortable he really was in Hell. However, when he remembered her—

Hell truly was torture. And he was cursed to spend his eternity in death without her.

#ohdeerfully #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader angst #angst #mutual pining OM NOM NOM NOM #i love angst im sorry guys

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