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astralis-ortus · 2 months ago

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when it's less-than-ideal

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— you can't judge a relationship only based on its good days.

w.count → 0.9k genre → comfort, a dash of comedy at the end warning → chan referred to as chris, babe, my love; reader referred to as baby and babe; kind of sad but it ends well♡ a.n → basically i'm projecting what kind of relationship-slash-communication style i want in a relationship, so... yeah. think i'll be on my own for quite a while, lol. anyways! i also have an announcement here about requests, commissions, and fanart shop, do check it out♡ ⋆ if you're enjoying my stories, do send me a ko-fi ⋆ see masterlist

chris has been acting weird lately, and you don't know why.

you're usually not one to mind—given the way his schedules these days barely even spare the time for him to rest, you understand that your boyfriend is bound to be less like his usual self. you've sat down with chris to talk about it early in your relationship—the expectations, the ideal and less-than-ideal situations, the how-tos, and 4 years in, everything has all worked out just fine.

lately, however,

chris has been acting really strange.

"babe, i'm home," chris' voice softly echoed through the apartment, followed by the rustling of what you could assume is the layer of jacket and hoodie you got him to wear to battle the dropping temperatures of november seoul. "where are you?"

"kitchen!" you chirped, swiftly rinsing off the pots and pans you've been battling against for the past 10 minutes, "i'm still washing the dishes. are you hungry? i made some curry for dinner, it's in the—babe? are you okay?"

the cheeriness in your voice immediately turned into worry when you felt chris' arms around your waist, holding you tight as he allows himself to melt onto you, face buried in the crook of your neck.

after all the years of being at the receiving end of chris' special mix of physical affection, you've naturally learned to differentiate the meaning in your boyfriend's touches—is he just being affectionate? or is he trying to tease you? is he jealous of the interaction you had? or did he sense something and is trying to keep you safe? you have always been able to read chris just from the way his skin grazes upon yours, and so far you've barely ever been wrong,

but god, you sincerely hope you're hitting far from the mark this time.

"hey," you softly called out upon the absence of chris' response, quickly disregarding the dishes to rinse your soapy hands before turning to face chris' tired features, "is everything alright, my love?"

instead of an answer, chris simply leaned onto your touch as soon as your hands came to cradle his cheeks—ones freezing from the cold weather he just escaped moments ago, and only then, you realized just how long it has been since you've properly seen your boyfriend.

how come you haven't noticed the dark, looming shadow in his eyes? or the way his skin had lost its usual glow and instead grew dry with the season? how come you didn't see the way the corner of his lips had grown heavier, or the way his curls you oh-so adored had adopted its long forgotten frizz?

how come it took you so long to properly see chris?

"i'm sorry, baby," running the pads of your thumbs across chris' cheeks, you forced yourself to swallow the lump of guilt lodged in your throat, "i just realized i've been too inattentive to you, and i'm sorry. have you been wanting to talk it out with me?"

and only then, you saw the faint glimmer you fell in love with, peeking between the grey clouds in chris' eyes.

"yeah," despite the hoarseness in his voice, you could hear the warmth returning in the words chris uttered as he nodded, "but i just… i didn't know how to bring it up since i knew you've been dealing with your own stuff as well."

chris quietly exhaled, soft breath grazing your lips when he leaned his forehead onto yours and let his eyes fluttered close, allowing his walls of self-protection to finally crumble as he speaks, "i'm sorry, baby. it was never my intention to let this fester for this long or to make you feel bad in any way. i just didn't know how. i promise."

you know you're not perfect, and neither is chris—but you also know chris has always made it his life mission to make sure you're the happiest you've ever been when you're with him. one honest mistake will never erase the efforts and sacrifice chris has ever made for you, and you'll never let that happen.

"i know, baby," you hummed, lightly dragging the tips of your nails against his scalp when your fingers found the dark locks of his hair, "i don't blame you. i shouldn't have assumed about your condition and let it slip too. i won't let it happen again, i promise."

and you can feel the way chris' shoulder relax at the words you utter,

because just like him, he knows you'll do everything in your power to keep every single one of your promises.

"thank you, baby," chris pulled you into his embrace, completely engulfing you in his warmth while he pressed his lips on your forehead. "i promise i'll try to be better at this too, and thank you for being patient with me. i love you."

it didn't matter how many times have you heard chris whisper those three words in your ears, or how many times have he held you like you're everything that ever mattered to him,

chris will always make your soul feel the most alive it has ever been.

"i love you too, baby," you finally allowed yourself to smile as your arms found their way around your boyfriend's waist, holding him close as you listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat—

"…babe?"

"…yeah," chris sheepishly nodded while rubbing his stomach, "i haven't had lunch too, actually…"

a protest involuntarily slip past your lips along with the forming lines of frown between your eyebrows, perfectly portraying your disapproval of chris' course of action.

"go sit down, i'll fix your plate for you," shaking your head, you turned towards the pot of warm curry on the stovetop in faux disappointment before you continued,

"and we'll talk about whatever's been stressing my christopher out, okay?"

oh, you can definitely confirm,

the sound of chris' soft chuckle will never fail to bring a smile to your face.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

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larcenywrites · 8 months ago

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For Love, We Sin the Most

Nightcrawler x Reader

Technically spoilers if you read any x-men anthology and haven't made it through second coming/ haven't read quest for nightcrawler. I don't get into many details or stay very canon anyway lol

Word count: 2,650

Summary: The resident catholic is having a hard time settling with the terms of his resurrection and just trying to feel again.

When Rachel frantically called on you to find Nightcrawler, you probably preferred to find him in battle, fighting demons. Luckily, on a Sunday morning, you knew exactly where to look first, creaking open the large wooden door just enough to pass through into the small lobby. The lights were off, but there was low singing from further inside. You would have proceeded to peek past that second set of doors, but the quick flick of blue that curled out from the sunlight and into the shadows nearby finished your investigation for you.

Well, you did, in fact, find him fighting demons.

This would normally be the part where you'd tease him about being terrible at hiding, but you didn't need to see his face to hold your tongue. Instead, you found a nearby panel of switches, flooding his side of the room in low light. Without the darkness, he could no longer blend and hide, but he didn't recoil. Hunched over, his hands were clasped together on his knees, and his tail tightly curled over his feet. You approached him wordlessly. You could tell he was focused but not on you, proven when he crossed himself right on cue. A cue you hardly heard yourself.

He continued to sit still for a few minutes. Obviously, he knew who stood before him. Otherwise he would have hid. Taking a deep breath, you placed a hand on his shoulder. "Shouldn't you be attending the service?" You asked softly.

"I," he finally choked out after several moments. "I'm not sure I am allowed to anymore." His words, although quiet, dripped with despair. For him, this welcoming foyer was his ancient narthex, created for those who weren't allowed into the sanctuary but still wished to listen to its sermon.

"Have you spoken to a Father about it?" Without further knowledge, you can only suggest a priest.

"And what would I say?" Kurt raised his voice in his anguish and grimaced at his own volume. "What would he say?" He tagged on, much quieter this time. He practically curled into himself as if he were cold. You sighed sadly at the sight, looking away. A small staircase in the corner caught your interest and gave you another idea. Reaching your hands down to his, you unfurled his hands from one another and took them into yours. At the gesture, he finally lifted his head to look at you. It took all you could not to take his sad face in your hands instead.

"I think he would tell you to come in," you reply in a gentle whisper. You smile down at him as you barely tug him towards you, convincing him to stand. When he finally does, you study him. His black blazer and black slacks, his white button-up shirt. A few top buttons were messily undone, but it only made him more handsome. Silently, with a hand in his, you led him up those wooden steps. Your intuition was right when they opened into a high balcony overlooking the inner room. That narrow gallery stretched against the wall was mostly dark, with only the tops of stained glass windows bleeding in light over the single row of benches. There was a reason someone like him chose such a dark, unpopulated church.

As you began to leave the doorway, deadweight stopped you in your tracks. Looking back, a pair of downcast yellow eyes glowed under the wooden arch. Naturally, he blended into the shadow. You came back to him, taking his other hand and settling between him and the wall. At the very least, maybe it would help for him to see this place again, you figured. You let him listen, watching him closely as he watched the floor.

And what a horrible day for a sermon about heaven.

"I saw it, you know," he barely spoke up, accent whispering like a snake. "Paradise." He said the word hauntingly, not with any grandeur nor remorse. He turned his head as he spoke, looking down at the alter, but he seemed distant. Perhaps in memory. The light of the window caught his eye and reflected brilliant pale yellow. In the darkness, the other was like fire.

"And yet you came back," you whispered back. Even you weren't quite sure what you meant by it, but he knew it wasn't merely an observation. Contemplating, he stared down into the room. The priest below continued, but you only wanted to hear whatever else Kurt had to say.

"There were many reasons I did what I did," he soon continued, still not looking at you. "Did it the way I did." He never told you the full story, not even Logan knew. You waited for more, but he didn't respond. He probably didn't want to talk about it—at least, not for another few minutes.

"I never thought that love would be my greatest sin," he finally said. "I wanted so badly to come back," he nearly sobbed, quickly putting his hand over his mouth to keep from interrupting the service below. He gathered himself for a few moments.

"To this place," he continued, "to my friends," he sighs before turning towards you, his fiery orbs still refusing to meet your gaze, "to you." Even when you cupped his cheek in your hand, his hand you left behind followed, fingers wrapping around your wrist. "That it would be greater than my love for God," he started but didn't finish when his voice began to rise again. By now he was rambling about things you hardly understood, but you hung on to every word.

"You said it yourself," you gently tease, more loving than lighthearted. "There is no love without sin." With a soft smile, your touch on his cheek stroked over the fur on his neck and drifted over what bare upper chest those undone buttons revealed. You knew you shouldn't, not here, but as his expression only grew more somber, you found yourself sliding your hand further, reaching the space above his heart for only a second before frantic yet gentle fingers pulled you away, afraid of what you'd find.

Or the lack thereof.

You couldn't stand to see him so sad, not even willing to look at you. As the preaching continued somewhere down below, something about fulfillment, there was really only one thing on your mind as you continued to watch his pained eyes. "Do you miss it?" You didn't mean to let your emotion ring in your tone as you whispered— doubt, disappointment, sadness. He picked up on it, raising his face once more to meet your gaze. Solemn eyes panicked, realizing his mistake. With a change of posture, he stepped closer, grasping your arm and placing your palm over his chest again. "Not in the same way I missed here," he reassured you. His eyes were still sad, but so earnest. You could feel the metal cross hanging from his pendant with how hard he pressed your palm into his chest. You both stared at one another in silence, but understanding.

Something about the word doom was quietly uttered through the archway.

"I realize now that I had already found Paradise," he proclaimed longingly, leaning in slightly. Though flattered, you only half-smiled.

"You shouldn't talk like that here," you whispered, cupping his jaw. "Surely it's a sin."

And he'd already cut his path of redemption short enough.

"And yet it would be a sin not to." His tone was almost desperate. He leaned in closer, head tilted dangerously close to a kiss. You began to protest, but his grip on your arm tightened in defiance. "My soul is already adrift elsewhere," he hissed in a hurried whisper, "and He has no use for my body." He shook his head in defeat, tilting his chin to kiss the hand that held him before looking back up. "So if it's all I have left, I will use it to worship who does." His voice cracked against your lips, and he practically fell into you.

Your back hit the wall with a thud that made you panic, but any protest of his name was muffled and lost between his lips. He could only follow what made him feel at the moment, and he'd come to his senses later, but right now, he was desperate to atone for his sins in a different way. It was a long, suffocating kiss that was touch-starved, hardly focused on any particular pleasure other than the need for your warmth. Despite knowing your current circumstances, you relaxed into him, taking your hand from his face and gripping the soft, indigo curls on the back of his head. He took that as his cue to press into you impossibly more, knees knocking with yours as you both nearly buckled from his weight.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, warm breath fanning against your cheek a few times before eagerly diving back in. This time, he moved with you. Your noses knocked each time he rolled his head to find his favorite angle, and, in annoyance, you tried to hold him still with your hand on his neck and your grip on his hair. In response, his lips parted, tongue lapping at your top lip and tentatively touching yours when you let him in.

His grip on your waist was harsh, almost as if he was scared that if he let go even a little, he might lose this moment forever. As if he couldn't hold you enough, his tail joined in, wrapping itself beneath your ass and tightly snaking around your waist. You felt him smile into the kiss when you pet over the peach fuzz of his tail before he abruptly pulled away from your lips, tongue sliding over your bottom lip as he withdrew into your neck. Sweetly, he kisses your pulse. And you know where he's going.

"We should 'port somewhere else," you suggest softly. The light kisses on your neck become open-mouthed and wet, showing you just what he thinks about your suggestion. You catch the words reunion with God bouncing off the wall, and you weren't sure if the devil himself said it or the clergyman was sermonizing below. You tilted your head back for him at the prickling feeling of his fangs.

With a mind of their own, your hands worked down the rest of the button on his shirt, splaying your fingers through the velvety fluff of his chest, barely able to feel the warm beating of his heart. At least you knew that he was alive, in some way or another.

Making sure you could feel all of him, you pushed his blazer and shirt off his shoulders, feeling him down and scratching over his abs just the way he used to like it, and he tensed them just the way you remember.

When his hands left your hips to slide off his clothes, they came back to do the same to you, sliding under your top and over your bare skin. You let him undress you, and eventually, you both stood nude.

Even after being… gone for so long, he remembered just where to touch you. He held your hips flush with his while licked over your nipple, pawed between your legs, and tickled your inner thigh with the curling of his fuzzy tail. Feeling boneless, the wall helped him to hold you up while you focused on covering your mouth to muffle your pleasured moans and sighs.

You were suddenly spun around, strong arms wrapped tightly around you as they swiftly lowered you to the wooden floor. Kurt's lithe form settled between your legs, back bowed as he bent down to mouth over your stomach. On his knees, he worshiped you carnally, hands gripping over-excitedly at your thighs and waist.

Fingers around your wrist pulled your hand from your mouth, quickly replaced with that crushing pair of full lips again. Some would say he was desecrating holy ground, but Kurt would say quite the opposite. In a nest of clothes, right there in the dark loft of his place of faith, he took you. Whether it was because he was most comforted here or because he was angry at the circumstances, his hips pumped into you with a fervor that had you clawing into his back and biting his shoulder to muffle your whines.

The floor was cold and hard and uncomfortable as he rocked you back and forth, but he was the opposite— warm and soft and lovingly fucking you into the ground. Luckily, the pious music drifting through the doorway covered up the sound of his cock slapping into you and his hissing moans as you bit and carved the punishment of love into his skin.

You were ripped from his shoulder when he sat up, not even bothering to cover your gasping moan at the change in angle. Blunt nails dug into your skin as he held your hips, making your legs squirm and draw up behind him with the overstimulated pleasure.

It was like a perverse religious painting, with his cross pendant wildly swinging above you and fangs gleaming along with his eyes; his tail, pointed like a devil's, bound your legs around his waist. This was heaven to him right now, watching you arch your back off the ground and eyes fluttering heavily as you both found that perfect sweet spot.

It was when you came on him that his glowing eyes beheld the glorious sight he was searching for. He kept going, desperate to keep the image of your moaning, parted lips in his mind, and keep the feeling of your warm cream that dripped over his cock. "Oh~ mein gott," he growled at the way you tightened around him. You could almost laugh at the way he said it if you weren't busy trying to recover. "(Y/N)," he panted and spoke your name like gospel. "My dearest."

Your only response could be a meek whimper of his name, but it was enough when you weakly rolled your head to look up at him. If you couldn't tell by the way his brows raised and furrowed, you knew that he was right on the edge by the constriction of his tail around your ankles, keeping you bound around him while he came, throbbing, deep inside you.

It was quiet now, aside from panting and the sounds of the congregation conversing and slowly departing that same creaking door that got you here in the first place. You felt you could finally relax and close your eyes when the last of the noise was shut out with the door, and you could finally stretch out your legs again as you felt his tail unravel. He had the same idea, stretching out his legs when he fell into your side. He let you have your space, but that sneaky tail laid loosely over your thigh.

You felt a sort of regret for him as you turned to take in the proper view of his nude form lying elegantly in your bed of disheveled clothes, wishing to know what this meant for him… but you weren't going to ask, letting him bask in release— whatever kind it was. You reached for his pendant, twirling the chain between your fingers and observing the discoloration of the metal cross. Without even opening an eye, he took your attention away from it with a touch, making you hold his hand against his chest instead.

"I-" You eventually break the silence but pause, unsure what excerpt you should say. It gets his attention, eyes lifting to look into yours. You muster a smile. "I'm glad you're back," you say softly, simply. Despite the circumstances, despite what it meant, despite what it's already done to you, you wanted to add, but his own bittersweet smile already knew what you meant.

"Me too," he whispered and brought your hand up from his chest to kiss your knuckles. "Me too, my dear."

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dendroseelie · 1 month ago

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unfamiliar feelings | kinich x reader

kinich turns up at your door injured, with an apology and feelings he's not familiar with

word count - 1.8k+

pairing - kinich x reader

warnings - mentions of blood

author's note: uhhh hello genshinblr, i'm veryyy new on here :) and this is my first work on here! i would love it if you could interact - however you'd like, and i would especially love it if you share your thoughts on it! it's a little more rushed than i would have preferred. i've been under the weather but i wanted to put something out at least sooo here it is :) a lil some thing on my fav boy lately heheh anyway feel free to drop in and leave a request if you'd like :) side note folks: saliva is actually good for healing your wounds so don't forget to make out with ur crush when your lips get busted lol

masterlist

request here | rules

“Did I wake you?”

Kinich’s voice is quieter than usual as you open the door to him at some 2:13 am in the night. The shadows being cast upon his face make it difficult for you to see his expressions but the tremble of his body sparks concern through you.

“Kinich, what are you doing here?”

Kinich lets out a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper. You step forward as he teeters on his feet, arms wrapping around his torso in support. A gasp leaves your mouth as his body moves from under the shadows and into the soft night light. Blood. Blood and cuts over his face. You’re horrified even more when you realize that you feel some wetness under your hand where your arm wraps around him.

“Uh, I needed some help,” Kinich mutters, body tense as he tries not to lean all his weight on you.

Kinich never asks for help. Things could go awry in a million ways, but Kinich refused to rely on anyone. His pride as most people say, or perhaps his past, as you think, stops him from ever leaning on someone. So to find him at your doorstep at two in the middle of the night, asking for help - must mean it's serious. And that makes your heart sink.

You hurry and tug him inside - he stumbles along.

“What happened?” Your voice drips with concern, the haze that usually slips in with the dwindling hours of the night completely fades.

You carefully aid him to sit on the small couch in your living room and turn to flip on the lights. The sight that greets you as you turn back to face him, makes you freeze in your tracks. “Kinich…”

His lip is busted and there’s a cut above his eyebrow, blood dripping along the side of his face. Your eyes move lower and see a gash over his chest and on the side of his torso. A deep ache squeezes through your heart and you rush into motion.

This is not how you last saw Kinich earlier in the afternoon when you had gotten into an argument, as always, about a commission he accepted. It was not out of the ordinary for you and Kinich to not see eye to eye about how you wanted to do things. This, in general, led to a lot of squabbles - however much of it Kinich would even entertain at all really.

Over the years, you and Kinich had developed somewhat of a friendship, at least whatever semblance of a friendship Kinich allows himself the privilege of. You spent a lot of time hanging out - you, him and Mualani were often found together. And between Mualani’s enthusiasm and his lack thereof, you were somewhere in the middle, somewhere more within Kinich’s comfort zone. And if you were being completely honest…you had grown something similar to a soft spot for this guy over the years. That did not mean Kinich did not frustrate you to the end of your wits.

Either way, holding fondness and affection for Kinich felt like extreme sports given the way he lived - uncaring of how things affected himself and in turn others. The boy was notorious for the way he seemed to hold no concern about his well-being and his tendency to accept dangerous, risky commissions that often felt like he was putting his safety on the line. To add to your worry, he was also hellbent on not accepting help.

So to no one’s surprise when he accepted another commission this morning - one which required him to into a particularly dangerous part of the wildlife all alone - you had gotten into an argument, a more serious one. You were trying to convince him to not take it up. The area was infamous for aggressive saurians and even some ruthless treasure hoarders who were not kind to ‘trespassers’. Kinich refused to drop the commission, insistent on doing it. When you suggested that he take someone along, another experienced adventurer, he had shut you down.

“This commission is paying good money. Sharing the commission means splitting the money, I don’t want to do that.” You doubt that was the only reason, he just did not want additional help, as always. Typical Kinich.

When you offered to tag along, pushing him to let you accompany him he had glared at you. Eyes fierce, words spiteful - “Y/N, you’re only going to make this trip more difficult for me. I don’t need an additional burden to look out for. And can you stop hovering around me like I’m a stupid kid? For Archon’s sake, stop doing that.”

His words had stung. Tears had quickly spring to your eyes and you had looked away from Kinich. So many thoughts rushed into your mind - were you overbearing? Did you bother him too much? He looked so frustrated. Did he dislike you? Just an inconvenience. A burden.

You had swallowed the hurt and nodded. “Okay…” You had whispered, before turning and breaking into a sprint toward your home. He hadn’t stopped you and you didn’t wait around to see the guilt slip into his eyes, fingers twitching by his side aching to stop you and apologize. But he didn’t. You went home and he went on the commission.

You’d come home and cried for some time, eyes red and swollen by the time Mualani came to check in on you in the evening. You didn’t tell her why, but she figured something had happened between you and Kinich. She kept you company and tried cheering you up with some gossip from her clan and stories from the market. After dinner, she had left and you had gotten into bed early with a book to keep your mind off the boy.

Now, you stood over the same boy who sat on your couch bloodied and bruised. You carefully yet swiftly assess the severity of his wounds before you head back into your bathroom to fetch your first aid box. You quickly sit in front of him. His face is contorted in pain and it tugs at your heartstrings.

“Can you help me take your shirt off? This one seems bad, let’s look at this first.”

Kinich murmurs his agreement and sits up straight to assist you in unzipping his top. Your hands come in contact with the bare skin of his shoulders as you push off the black fabric. Kinich trembles beneath your touch. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

The gash across his abdomen comes into view as Kinich collapses back against the couch and you suck in a deep breath at the sight. “Kinich… What the fuck did you get into?”

You quickly get into work, sanitizing the area and cleaning it up with antiseptic wipes to get a better look at the wound. It doesn’t seem deep enough to require stitches but it’s bad enough to scar. Bad enough for the blood to have soaked through his top. “I think you should check with the town healer tomorrow, Kinich.”

“It’s okay, I don’t think it’s that bad,” he said, all the while wincing at the sting of the alcohol. His muscles ripple under your touch, goosebumps littering his skin as you work.

You press your lips, holding back your words. Ever so stubborn. You wanted to avoid a repeat of the afternoon, now was not the time. You work in silence after that, the only sound being that of Kinich’s winces and the sharp breaths he sucks in through his teeth.

After you bandage his abdomen securely enough, you move on to the wounds on his face. You watch his face closely before leaning in. Your own breath stutters at the proximity and you find yourself clearing your throat as you apply ointment over his eyebrow.

Kinich’s eyes never leave you. His gaze seems fixed upon you. As you move on to cleaning his busted lips, he catches your eyes and the intense look in his makes your movements pause.

“What?” You ask, heat burning your cheeks.

“I’m sorry. For what I said… Earlier in the day.”

You nod, movements resuming as you dab the cotton ball to his lip. “You should be.”

You retract your touch, reaching out for the ointment. Kinich’s hand shoots up to grab yours. “Y/N… I truly am sorry.” He sighs. A pained expression flickers through his face and you’re almost worried his pain is getting worse but then he takes in a deep breath. He schools his expressions, eyes fluttering shut for a second before the sun-like gaze is back on yours. “I- I’m not the best at this. At asking for help or simply accepting it. I’m- I’m not familiar with having someone…someone caring for me the way you do. I’ve learned to be alone. I had to learn to be alone very early on and you know why.” He looks away, cheeks flushing pink. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do with the care you show for me. It’s not something I’m used to, not something I know. B-but I do know that I like that you care. I like that you look out for me. And I want to do the same for you.”

“Kinich…”

“I’m not that dense, Y/N. I know a thing or two about feelings. But…I’m sorry that I’m not too good at knowing what to do with these feelings. So…I wanted to start with apologizing.”

“Apology accepted.” You smile, fingers aching to touch. So you do. You raise your palm to cup his cheek, making him meet your gaze. “You were an absolute dick to me earlier and I did not like how you spoke to me. I care about you Kinich. So, so deeply. I know feelings like this are…well, daunting to come to terms with. But, they’re something I want to share with you.”

A small smile curves onto his lips. He shifts his face to press a kiss into the inside of the palm on his cheek. A shiver runs through you at the feather-light brush of his lips. Your eyes zero in on his mouth. Kinich’s smile deepens. His hand reaches out, slipping under your hair, settling on the nape of your neck, your eyes flitter close. He tugs you closer before you can figure out what’s happening. His lips press into yours, and something warm erupts beneath your ribcage, blooming through you like the first, soft rays of dawn splitting through the clouds. You lean in closer, angling your head so you can get a better taste of what lingers upon his soft, soft lips. Kinich’s lips are so soft. He tastes like honey, the rawest kind - sweet and bitter at the same time. There’s a hint of blood, you realize belatedly as your teeth graze the plushness of his bottom lip. The hiss of pain leaving him is what makes you pull apart. Both your lips are glistening with spit, swollen and redder.

“Sorry,” you whisper abashedly, unable to meet his eyes. “Uh, I forgot about that, let me just put on the ointment.”

As you fidget to fish out the long-forgotten ointment, Kinich stops you for the second time that night. A lop-sided smirk perched upon his inviting lips, eyes mirthful. “Well,” he begins as he tugs you closer. “You know what they say about the healing properties of saliva…”

“Kinich!”

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prythianpages · 5 months ago

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I Put A Spell On You | Acotar x Witch Reader

━━━━━━•───⋅☽𖤐☾⋅───•━━━━━

[season of the witch masterlist]

summary: You, a witch, perform a ritual over your mate.

warnings: witchy rituals, Az being smitten with Green Witch, suggestiveness for Cas's bc he's horny for Love Witch, and a bit of Eris being soft for his Chaos witch.

a/n: Happy Summerween! This is inspired by the meme "hot witch wife and me doing whatever the hell she wants" that came from the gif above. Only Azriel, Cassian and Eris are included in this. Idek if these count as drabbles since each one is roughly a little longer than 1K but oh well lol.

moon divider by @tsunami-of-tears <3

━━━━━━•───⋅☽𖤐☾⋅───•━━━━━

Azriel x Green Witch

Candles were lit and placed carefully around the room, casting a warm glow that danced with your every movement. You knelt in the center, drawing a chalk circle with meticulous care. Your eyebrows knitted together, focus unwavering.

A sight that had Azriel’s gaze softening as he watched you from where he stood. His shadows flitted around him, singing in content. Precious, they whispered. Yours. The corner of his lips tugged up into a faint smile. Ours. His shadows were just as smitten with you as him.

"Azriel," you called softly as you shifted into a kneeling position.

He stepped forward, shadows shuddering under the force of your magic as he crossed the chalk circle. Kneeling before you, his gaze flickered to the tray between you, filled with an assortment of herbs, shimmering crystals, and freshly cut dandelions. Through the bond, he could feel your anticipation and nervousness humming like a vibrant current. He sent a soothing wave of calm your way, reveling in the way your muscles seemed to relax.

Lighting the candle on the tray with your magic, you finally look up and meet Azriel’s gaze. A faint blush colors your cheeks at what you find in those hazel eyes. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

“Because you’ve bewitched me.”

You lifted a brow. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“Oh, but you have.” He grinned, hazel eyes sparkling. “Just being you is enough.”

“Don’t distract me,” you admonished, though your voice lacked firmness, and the blush on your face deepened. “I could be casting a hex on you for all you know… what if I were cursing you into a toad?”

“I’d croak only for you.”

“And if I jinxed you with a body-bind curse that would immobilize you?”

Azriel tilted his head, his eyes boring into yours with a challenge. “So that I’d never leave your side…Are you sure that’s a curse?”

You stared back at Azriel, eyes narrowing in skepticism. But he doesn’t waver. You’re certain he doesn’t even blink, and the sincerity radiating from him sends a wave of warmth through your heart. He’d let you do anything to him.

“You’re insufferable,” you finally replied, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words.

“And you’re adorable,” he said softly, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch sending delightful shivers down your spine.

Before his hand could fall back to his side, you reached out for it and laced your fingers through his, smile widening when one of his shadows wedges itself through the cracks. “Will you let me focus now?”

Azriel gives your hand a squeeze, silently commanding the shadow between your fingers to return to him. With a wave of your other hand, your spellbook came flying to you from your desk in the corner. In a whirl of green, the pages began to turn, your eyes darkening as they searched for the spell in mind.

“What is this spell for anyway?” Azriel couldn’t help but ask, realizing he had no clue as to what this ritual of yours entailed. When he told you he was going on a long mission–a full week–and you had asked if you could try something, he had simply said yes.

Darkness fully consumed your eyes, the turning pages coming to a stop. He doesn’t flinch when your dark eyes look up to his. To him, they were just another beautiful part of you that he loved. “It’s a small binding spell for protection. It’s like a stepping stone for the spell I want to cast after our mating ceremony.”

“And no, I won’t tell you what that one is because it’s a surprise.” You added after sensing the next question ready to roll off Azriel’s tongue.

Azriel let out a small huff. He doesn’t like surprises but you’re stubborn and unwavering. At the slight pout of his face, you bring his hand to your mouth and brushed your lips against his fingers. The subtle twitch of his right wing betrayed him, making you smile.

“Now, sit back on your heels and relax.” You instructed, taking his other hand in yours so both hands held his.

Azriel’s wings curled in slightly, the dark talons lightly grazing the floor. His shadows quieted, resting against his neck and lap. You gave both of his hands a squeeze before you began to murmur a chant, your voice soothing and melodic. The flames surrounding you both danced higher, responding to your magic.

Your magic enveloped you both, swirling along the line of your circle and casting a shimmering green glow upon the room. The magic from Azriel’s cobalt blue siphons sang in response, fluttering toward your emerald light and intertwining with it, just like your fingers are with his.

The combined force of your magic sent a cool gust of air your way, making your hair sway gently. The dandelions between you both seemed to awaken with a life of their own, the pappus carrying their seeds stirring. A tender flutter of warmth rose from Azriel’s stomach as the dandelions began to rise, his mind flashing back to that day in the field of dandelions when your laughter had filled the air.

The feathery plumes floated in the air between you both, carrying promises in the wind of your magic.They wrapped around your intertwined hands, morphing into a golden thread in a burst of bright light. Azriel eyes filled with a mix of admiration and something deeper that made your heart race. It prompted you to close your eyes, not wanting to be distracted as you whispered the last words of the spell.

When you finished, the room fell into a calm silence. You opened your eyes, and Azriel watched as the darkness lifted from them, smiling as you were brought back to him.

Azriel rises first so that he can guide you to your feet. His hands don’t let go of yours. Though it’s time for him to leave for his mission, his shoulders feel light. As if a huge weight has been lifted off and he feels something he’s never felt before–an overwhelming sense of safety. Even his shadows seemed to give a sigh of relief.

Resting his forehead against yours, he takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut briefly. “I’ll come home to you as soon as I can. Crawl if I have to.”

“You won’t have to,” you promised, looking up at him. “You’ll come home to me unscathed and we’ll have our mating ceremony. Then, I’ll show you my surprise.”

His lips brushed against your forehead in a tender kiss, the promise of your future together shimmering like the magic lingering in the air.

Cassian x Love Witch

Cassian’s head tilted back in pleasure, his large hands falling to your hips. Your lips found purchase against the newly exposed skin of his neck, slowly working your way up. He let out a deep groan when you grinded down against him, his hands kneading into you to press you further onto his growing bulge.

“Sweetheart–”

“Can I–”

“Yes.”

You let out a breathless giggle, pulling back to look down at your mate, your heart shaped pupils making an appearance. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

“Well, let’s fix that?” He smirked at you, his hand sliding up your shirt.

“I want to try something.”

“Anything,” Cassian replied, eyes hooded with lust, before chasing after your lips.

You placed a finger against his lips, stopping them from meeting yours and when your lips curved into a devious grin, Cassian realized you were not talking about sex.

“I want to cast a spell on you, perform a ritual.”

His throat bobbed. “A ritual?”

“Mmm,” you replied, shifting in his lap as you cradled his face into your hands. “One I can only perform when the recipient is in love with me. It makes my love potions more potent. I’ve never tried it before but I’d like to. It’ll be fun…”

Cassian searched your face, eyes narrowing at you. “Fun in what sense?”

“Fun in the sense that it’ll make you feel real, real good,” you replied, hands falling to his chest slowly snaking their way upwards to run down his back and teasing at the area where his wings meet his skin. His wings shuddered, his arousal filling the air.

“Only if I get to make you feel real, real good after.” His hands guided you to circle your hips over his lap again, eliciting a soft moan out of you as you felt his desire for you.

“Deal.”

Cassian watched as you moved about your spell room with a grace and purpose that made his heart swell with pride. Since you had become a couple, your magic had been steadily returning to its former strength. It seemed that all you needed was to believe in yourself for your magic to flourish again.

This wouldn’t be the first time you’d work your magic on him but it was the first time you’d perform a ritual on him. He couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anticipation as he laid down in the center of the circle you had drawn. His wings, arms and legs were splayed out in a relaxed yet expectant manner.

You sprinkled salt around the circle, its crystals catching the fae lights hanging above and adding a shimmering boundary. Then, with a dash of cinnamon, Cassian’s nose wrinkled, the warm, spicy scent teasing his senses. As you scattered rose petals along the floor, Cassian’s eyes followed you, tracking your every movement.

“How does this work again?”

You made your way towards Cassian, your feet stopping right at his head as you peered down at him. “It’s simple. You think about me and only me—”

“Easy.” He smirked up at you.

With a playful wink, you threw a handful of rose petals at him. “—while I chant a spell. Your feelings will manifest into a tangible energy that I can then work with and stir into my potion.” You explained as you added drops of honey and more cinnamon to the brewing potion in the cauldron at the edge of the circle, the mixture bubbling softly.

“But what if I accidentally think of other things?” Cassian couldn’t help but ask.

His thoughts did tend to drift away often, usually to not so innocent thoughts of you. However, there were the occasional random ones such as what he’d be having for dinner, the result of the loud instrument he had gifted Nyx on his birthday or what would make Azriel tick next.

“Then, the cauldron will tip over angrily over your defiance to love me.”

He lifted his head slightly from the ground, relief bringing it back down when he saw you were joking.

“Just don’t think of anything negative. Otherwise, you’ll mess with the spell.” You reassured.

“Okay, got it! I can definitely do that. Think positive thoughts.” His eyebrows knitted together in concentration but then another thought came to mind and once again, he was lifting his head from the ground.

"And why am I shirtless?" He asked with a raised brow.

"Oh that," you grinned back at him, eyes sparkling with mischief. "That's for my own entertainment."

You began the ritual by lighting candles placed at each cardinal point of the circle. You then took a small, ornate vial from a nearby table, filled with a shimmering liquid—the essence of moonlight collected during the last full moon. You carefully poured a few drops into the cauldron, causing the potion to glow.

As you started chanting the spell, the energy in the room seemed to shift and intensify. Cassian closed his eyes, focusing on his love for you, letting the emotion swell within him. You placed your hands gently on his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.

“Stay still.”

“Your hands are cold and it tickles.” Cassian breathed but did his best to not move.

The air around you crackled with energy like a steady, burning hearth. The pink thread of magic began to weave itself around Cassian, glowing brighter with each passing moment. The connection between you two was palpable, a current of love and magic flowing freely. You could feel his love transforming into a tangible force, ready to be harnessed for your potion.

As the final words of the spell left your lips, you gathered the energy with a sweeping motion of your hand, guiding it into the cauldron. The potion bubbled vigorously for a moment before settling into a golden liquid, infused with the power of your love and Cassian’s devotion.

You looked down at Cassian, who opened his eyes and met your gaze. “There,” you said softly, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. “How do you feel?”

“Amazing.” Cassian replied, his entire body humming with a pleasant warmth. He felt good, real good. Just as you had said. He reached up and gently pulled you down for a kiss, his lips warm and soft against yours. “You’re amazing.”

Then, he flipped you over, positioning you on the ground beneath him as he hovered above you. His gaze darkened, love and lust simmering in those hazel eyes. “Now, it’s my turn to make you feel good.”

Lost in the promise of pleasure, you failed to close the ritual and your brewing love potion bubbled, turning into something more sensual…

Eris x Chaos Witch

Eris entered the dimly lit chamber, the hair on the back of his neck rising at the sudden chill in the air. The sensation, once unsettling, now was a welcomed embrace, a whisper of the magic that thrived in these walls. He closed the door behind him.

It was only then that he allowed his shoulders to sag, burdened by the heavy yet long desired mantle of his new responsibilities as the High Lord of Autumn. As he begins to unbutton his coat, the soft hum of a melody reached his ears, a soothing sound that seemed to dance with the flickering shadows. Drawn towards the source, Eris walked into the bathroom, where the air was thick with the scent of enchanted herbs and essential oils.

In the center of the room, a large, claw-footed bathtub awaited, filled with steaming water. Floating atop were petals of autumn blooms, interspersed with sprigs of calming lavender and rosemary. You stood beside the tub, your back turned towards him, but he could feel your awareness of his presence through the bond that tightened in his chest.

Eris leaned against the doorframe, taking a moment to fully appreciate the scene before him. The tightening in his chest blossomed into a pool of warmth, the sight of you bringing him a sense of peace that always left him wondering if this was all a dream. Another tug through the bond reminds him that it’s not.

You wore a flowing gown of deep burgundy, reminiscent of the Autumn Court’s forests, and your hair cascaded around your shoulders. The humming ceased, and with a smile in your voice, you finally greeted him.

“My High Lord.”

A faint smirk tugged at Eris’s lips as he crossed his arms. "What is all of this?"

You turned around to face him, your eyes glowing a vivid crimson as the room darkened around you. "A little treat for you."

Eris raised an eyebrow, his own magic flickering the candles surrounding the bathtub to life. "A treat? For me?"

"Mmm. That’s what I said.”

Your eyes softened back to their natural hue. “Your energy has been all over the place these past couple of weeks. I thought a ritual might help ease your burden." You gestured to the enticing bath. "To relax you a little."

Eris blinked, momentarily taken aback by the gesture. His eyes roamed over the various jars and elixirs lining one of the counters, each one glimmering with an otherworldly light. His gaze returned to you as you moved towards the array. You paused, studying the selection with a discerning eye before picking up a dark vial, its contents swirling with a strange mist.

You approached the bathtub with the chosen elixir, the air tingling with anticipation. You uncorked the bottle, releasing the trapped mist with a soft pop. You brought the open bottle to your nose, inhaling deeply and closing your eyes as if savoring a fine wine. “Frog’s breath,” you said, the corners of your lips twitching at the slight grimace on Eris’s face. “It’s surprisingly refreshing. It’s the toad’s breath you have to watch out for.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to go sniffing the wrong amphibian,” Eris replied, his tone laced with dry sarcasm.

You shot him a wry look before turning your attention back to the bath. With a flick of your wrist, you directed the mist towards the water, where it hovered above the surface like storm clouds, emitting a soft hiss as it settled.

Then, you reached into your dress, pulling out a long, vibrant feather from your chest, its colors shimmering in shades of reds, oranges, and gold. Your eyes glowed with a radiant red light as you admired the feather. “A phoenix feather. It brings forth rebirth and renewal—a rejuvenating energy, perfect for new beginnings.”

You beckoned Eris closer, and he complied, his amber eyes alight with curiosity and intrigue. He stood beside you, watching intently as you cast the feather into the bathtub as if it were your cauldron. There was a sudden flash of light, and the water began to glow with a faint golden hue.

“Looks like you’re preparing to make a stew out of me.”

You turned your head to meet his gaze, finding him already watching you. Your smile widened into a mischievous grin. “Oh, how you wound me, my love. I thought we were well past the murderous stage.”

Eris chuckled, reminiscing about the tumultuous beginnings of your relationship. How far the two of you had come since those early days. He never would have imagined that the witch with a love for chaos could capture his heart so completely. As you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle nudge, he turned to face you.

“Will you let me take care of you?”

Eris gave you a nod, not trusting himself to speak. His throat felt tight with emotion.

You began to undo the remaining buttons on his coat, your fingers moving with a practiced grace. The fabric soon slid down his shoulders and fell to the floor. You continued with his vest and then, you reached his shirt, your nimble fingers brushing against his chest.

As the garment fell away, you took a moment to appreciate the sight before you. Your hands traced the planes of his muscles, the touch light and reverent, invoking a delightful shudder that ran through him like a current. Your eyes find his as your hands begin to trail lower, teasing at the waistband of his pants.

Eris’s gaze is intense, bringing your movements to a stop. He finishes undressing himself, knowing that if he allowed you, there was no way he’d have the strength to indulge in the bath before indulging in you.

His hands found purchase on your waist, pulling you closer to him, lips meeting yours in a tender caress. “What next?” He breathes, his nose brushing against yours.

“Do you trust me?” You whisper and though he can only muster another nod, he sends his reassurance through the bond. “Then, get in.”

You extend your hand to him, and he takes it without hesitation, allowing you to guide him into the bath. Even as he settles into the tub, his back resting against the cool porcelain, his hand never leaves yours. The hot water envelops him, immediately easing the tension in his muscles, and he lets out a contented groan.

Bringing your hand to his lips, he brushes a kiss against your knuckles, his amber eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight. "What would I do without you?" he murmurs.

“Guess we’ll never find out. You’re stuck with me now.” You reply, tugging at the golden threads that tether your souls together.

"A devastating tragedy," Eris feigns lament.

"A true catastrophe," you echo, matching his tone.

The two of you share a smile, the look in your eyes contrasting the words exchanged. Your hands move gently to remove the autumn diadem from his head, a symbol of his new rank and the burdens he bears. You place the diadem safely onto the counter and then, you’re returning to his side.

You sit on the stool beside the bathtub, your fingers threading through his hair with a soothing touch. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," he replies and though it’s not the first time you performed a ritual over him, it’s your first time performing one as his mate and for pleasure. His heart flutters in anticipation.

Leaning in, you press a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "Just sit back and relax.”

His breath hitched as he felt the coolness of your magic radiate from your fingertips and seep into his scalp. You began to hum an ancient tune. The chill of your magic transformed into a soothing, calming caress, gently breaking down the shields of his mind. He closed his eyes, allowing the sensations to wash over him—the warmth of the water, the scent of enchanted herbs, the soft glow of candles.

Eris, who had always been the one to shoulder burdens and stand strong, felt an unfamiliar sensation—a deep, unspoken care enveloping him. It relaxed him, allowing him to be vulnerable in a way he rarely permitted. And in the quiet embrace of the night, he realized how fortunate he was to have someone like you in his life.

Someone who understood the storms within him and embraced them, bringing harmony to his tumultuous world.

a/n: hope you enjoyed these! Eris's turned out a lot softer than I first imagined. I do intend to post more witchy HCs/drabbles but at the moment, I don't have an idea for one. But if you do, feel free to send it my way!

[witch au masterlist]

general witch tag list: @rcarbo1, @scorpioriesling, @ninthcircleofprythian

love witch tag list: @mrsjna , @shadowsingercassia, @acourtofbatboydreams, @rcarbo1, @mvidaaaa ,

@stuff-i-found-while-crying , @lipstickmarks, @yamisukehoe , @mp-littlebit , @thecraziestcrayon,

@talesofadragon, @ceoofyearning, @anuttellaa, @breadsticks2004, @chicken-fifi

green witch tag list: @fxckmiup, @aria-chikage

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian fanfiction #cassian acotar #eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #az!dandelions #dream!cas #chaos!eris

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nnight-dances · 5 months ago

Text

ONE KISS, ONE LOVE

PAIRING: park wonbin x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive dialogue but nothing explicit

TROPES: established relationship!au, idol!wonbin, age gap vibes but no real mention, reader babies wonbin like he deserves to be, texts at the end, just sickening sweet stuff

WATCH: wonbin's night routine

NOTE: inspired by the video above! once again, these wonbin fics write themselves ... he might be my favorite boy to write rn or maybe that's just my way of coping!! anyway don't be surprised if i just start spamming u with the wonbin fics i just have too many good ideas. but they're all gonna be set in this same established relationship style, he's just so bf coded lol... anyway, enjoy <3

you've been in bed for a good twenty, clad in cream pyjamas and skincare intact, when you hear the frontdoor open – signalling your boyfriend, wonbin's arrival. you pause the video you're watching on your phone and sit up to greet him, "bin? welcome home." his heavy footsteps stop where his figure finally comes into your view.

wonbin looks wiped out, no doubt, eyes shadowed by his somnolent lashes. he stares at you for a moment before humming, the sound halfway between a thank god you're here and i could die right now. he peels his layers off with speed, black leather jacket hung up on the tree-shaped rack near your closet and his other outerwear finding its place on the small cabinet next to it.

you watch fondly as even in his fatigue, he patiently makes sure no outside clothes pollute the bed. as soon as he's in nothing but his white tee and boxers though, he jumps onto you, deflating the air out of you like a body pillow.

"hello," he mumbles, face disappearing into your chest where he snuggles closer.

"hi, love," you welcome him warmly, fingers carding through his hair as a force of habit. you breathe against his limp body, letting him unwind on top of you as he often does. it's a silent activity, a night routine of sorts for wonbin on his longest days. he'd trudge home and settle close to you, wordlessly like a cat looking for soothing.

sometimes, you talked to him about your day and he'd hum along, eyes on yours telling all you needed to hear. other times, you would go back to doing whatever you were doing – watching a show, playing a game, or talking to a friend – while he recharged. he even insisted it worked best when you were just doing your own thing.

today, you do neither. setting your phone aside, you occupy yourself with wonbin himself, first meandering through his charcoal hair and then trailing down to his neck, tracing hearts and stars into his skin. you can feel him relaxing under your touch, his face finally coming back into your vision.

"tired," wonbin says, voice coarser than ever. "need to sleep."

"i know, baby," you croon, "wanna wash up first?"

he shakes his head adamantly, "no. sleepy."

you laugh softly, "angel, i'm sure you are but you can't sleep with your makeup on, can you?"

"had a few drinks with taro hyung," he murmurs as if that explains his behavior.

"really? you had time after practice?"

"he snuck it into practice. beer after all that sweating was nice."

"wow, look at you," you muse, hand brushing his bangs out of his eyes, "you sound like an old man."

"i am," wonbin pouts, "let the old man go to sleep."

"sorry, love, i can't do that," you say.

"rude."

"say what you will," you sit up fully, pulling your sluggish boyfriend with you. ignoring his groans, you kiss his nose, "wash up, okay? can't have my rockstar breaking out because he was too lazy to wash his face before bed."

he groans again but this time it's an endearment, his kiss on your cheek disguising his smile. "but i can't move, y/n. please."

"i'll help you," you snake out of the sheets, squatting as you heave wonbin out as well. he stands up unwillingly, head wilting like a sad flower. you laugh, pulling him toward the washroom, "will you listen if i do all the work?"

that gets the job done alright because two minutes later, wonbin's settled against the sink with you between his legs. you crane around his tall limbs to reach for his products, having memorized his night skincare by now.

cleansing balm in hand, you carefully cover every inch of his face, the makeup turning into oil gradually. "okay, babe, now rinse your face for me."

"you said you'd do all the work!" he complains without missing a beat.

you glare at him, "i can't possibly wash your face without making a mess of both of us."

"sounds like an excuse to me."

sulking, he turns around, washing the balm off. next, you go in with his foam cleanser, gently circling his cheeks and forehead. despite all his earlier declarations, he watches you attentively, his hand loosely clasped around your waist to keep you in place. you have to scold him midway at one point when he gets cheeky and sneaks a hand down your pyjamas, feeling the hem of your panties.

eventually, you dry his face off with a hand towel. "there," you peck his cheek, "all clean."

when he doesn't let go of your waist, you raise a brow at him. "you only love me when i'm clean," he scowls, "don't you?"

you narrow your eyes at his tantrum, "i think you're forgetting how i'm sacrificing my screen time before bed to clean you up right now."

he looks unconvinced as he tails you out of the bathroom. he's about to throw himself back onto the bed when you stop him by his hand. "change first," you explain, pulling out fresh pyjamas and throwing them at him.

wonbin stands idly and it's only when he starts raising his arms up that you realize he wants you to do it. you sigh, "bin, you're such a baby today." but you smile as you pull his shirt off, disregarding the way he instantly flexes when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. slipping his pyjamas on, a piece at a time, you clap when he's done.

"i would make a great mother," you pat yourself on the back.

"you can adopt me if you want," he shrugs and you snicker, "i don't think i need to."

"you want anything to eat before you sleep?" you ask as if you hadn't quite literally brushed his teeth. "chocolate," he says without any conviction and you roll your eyes at him, watching as he launches himself at the bed.

"quick, come here," wonbin whines. you pad over to your side of the bed and join him, giggling when his body curls around you instantly. his nose finds its indent against your neck this time, cold and fresh.

for a minute, you think that's all you'll hear out of your boyfriend for the night. but it's just as you're about to reach for your phone when he speaks up again, "sorry if i'm boring."

you're not sure if your ears hear right, "what?"

but his voice is solemn, "...i'm probably kinda boring lately. so i'm sorry."

you turn on your side to face him completely, hand coming to rest against his cheek. "bin, you idiot. you coming home is the best part of my day."

"really? even though i'm too dead to do anything?" he perks up but his eyes gloomy, "we don't even fuck anymore. or go to the movies. or go out at all."

you laugh, "you're making us sound like an old couple on the verge of divorce, baby. you're just busier because of your comeback! i'm so excited and you should be, too."

"i am. but i don't want bore you."

"you don't, though. i'm lucky enough i get to see you at night and take care of you when i can. plus, it's not like you won't have more time after your promotions, right? we can do everything you want then."

wonbin blinks at you, his cool hand finally coming to meet yours where it was still caressing his cheek. he kisses your palm, "thank you. i'm glad."

"of course, love. now, go to sleep or you'll regret it tomorrow," you chirp, rolling over and shutting the lights off quickly.

"...you really would be a great mom," wonbin laughs at your behavior.

"good night, wonbin."

"good night, mom."

you hit his arm at his brazenness but when he just laughs again, the sound is too sweet for you to even pretend to be mad. so instead, you hug him closer, hand on his bicep and his legs tangled with yours.

–

bin: I AM FREE AT LAST

bin: FROM THE SHACKLES OF IT

you: …

you: how would ur fans react if i leaked our texts

you: so much for being mysterious

you: "shackles of it" boy have you ever touched a book

bin: okay so you're rude today

bin: i miss y/n mom version

you: ew?? if u have a kink i dont think this is gonna work

bin: because…?

you: is sungchan still single

bin: i was kidding! haha!

you: ok.

bin: seriously tho let's do smth fun 2nite

you: i get off work late today :(

bin: whatttt you have a life outside of me :0

you: do you WANT me to break up with you???

bin: what i meant was i will be there to pick you up <3

you: wtv man idgaf anymore

bin: noooo

bin: i'll do anything you want don't be mad

you: anything?

bin: well other than leaking our texts ofc

you: i want to live together

bin: ???

bin: we alr do

you: wonbin

you: baby

you: you just always come over to my place

bin: i sleep there it's my home wdym

you: and you still pay the bills for your place?

bin: i don't make that bag for nothing

you: ok so what if we lived together instead

bin: but i really like your place!!

you: i do too

you: let's make it our place

bin: shit

bin: i just actually blushed irl

you: :)

you: is that a yes

bin: i want to marry you

you: okay well let's calm down

bin: did u just reject me

you: i'm telling u that you're gonna regret proposing through text

bin: i love u and i want u to be my wife

bin: omg i just shed a tear at the thought of calling u that

bin: wife…. im changing ur contact name

bin: or should i change it to fiancée? since we havent yet tied the knot

you: park wonbin

you: we are 20 years old

bin: untrue

bin: im 22

you: i am not marrying you right now

bin: … is there someone else

you: i'm not marrying anyone right now

bin: ok so i'm not husband material

you: you are

bin: i'm not father material? you: no comment

you: but we aren't ready babe

you: let's take it slow k?

you: just move in first

you: we have so many memories to make

bin: you're such a flirt

you: ??? u just asked me to marry you but sure

bin: i'll be moved in by the time you come back home

you: i thought you were picking me up

bin: that was before u asked me to move in

bin: now i have to bring all my stuff over

bin: which side of your closet can i use? bin: also thoughts on letting me keep my rock collection next to your figurines?

you: right side and no

bin: wow u didnt even think about it

you: imagine we get into a fight

bin: i refuse to

you: i'm just saying i would be tempted to throw them rocks at u

bin: you would do that????

you: depending on what u do

bin: why are you expecting me to do anything at all????

you: …experience

bin: wow

you: to be loved is to be known

bin: you can't flatter me now

you: i love you

bin: …

bin: i love you too

490 notes · View notes

koiiiji · 5 months ago

Note

im here for yakuza!Gun x reader smut 🤧🤧 like, you stayed at his family's mansion overnight because he introduced you to his clan for the first time and when the night came, this perv didn't care there was no soundproof system between rooms in the mansion (ofc, that's the traditional Japanese house style!!), he kept doing the deed, and even warned you to lower your voice if you didn't want anyone to hear 😏😏

ty as always bae <33

p/s: that's the idea and you can customize it however you want, just make sure that he is a meanie but soft at the same time (is it possible hm 🤔)

p/s (2): i have to send this idea right away in case you close your ask box too early lol 😂😂

author's note ; i mean Gun IS in fact yakuza, no? anyway sooo here we go! i had kinda same scenario but more rough and generally dark, like yandere, but fuck it, i think i won’t finish it anytime soon, bc i thought to add it to your request, but i don’t want to make you wait anymore. i think i was carried away a little in beginning, so its longer then expected, sorry!! 💞😮‍💨

author's note 2 ; art from pinterest, it says credits to : jongjong822 on x

tw ; f! reader, nsfw, minors, ageless/empty blogs DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU!!!

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

to be honest, you had no plans to meet Yamazaki Gun's family tonight. it's not that you were against the idea — quite the opposite! you'd heard plenty about who his father was and what his family did. there were a lot of rumors swirling around town, and while you were a little wary, you were mostly curious. besides, you hadn’t been together for that long, so you didn’t expect Gun to introduce you to his family anytime soon.

when he told you earlier in the day to dress up for the evening, you weren’t surprised. it was just another night, another overly expensive restaurant, and another excuse to be in his company. as you sat in the passenger seat of Gun's sleek black car, you glanced out the window at the city passing by. the soft glow of the streetlights bathed the streets in a warm, golden hue, making everything feel a little more magical, a little more alive.

the atmosphere inside the car was just as enchanting. Gun had always been a man of few words, but tonight he seemed more at ease, more open. the quiet hum of the engine was accompanied by the faint sound of classical music playing through the car's speakers, creating a peaceful ambiance. you felt a sense of calm wash over you as you glanced at Gun, who was focused on the road ahead. his profile was illuminated by the soft light from the dashboard, casting shadows that only added to his already mysterious aura.

the restaurant was just as extravagant as you'd expected, with its towering marble pillars, crystal chandeliers, and tables draped in fine linen. evening went perfectly. you and Gun shared a bottle of wine, and as the evening wore on, you found yourself getting a little tipsy. it wasn’t enough to lose control, just enough to feel a pleasant buzz that made everything seem a little funnier, a little more relaxed. your laughter came more easily, and you found yourself leaning in closer to Gun, your hand occasionally brushing against his. he seemed to enjoy the relaxed version of you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he listened to your stories and responded with his own dry wit.

when the dinner finally came to an end, you felt a sense of contentment settle over you. the food had been exquisite, the wine even more so, and the company... well, there was no one else you'd rather be with. so you assumed that Gun would take you back to your home now, to end the night on a sweet note with a kiss or maybe something more at your doorstep. so, when he steered the car away from the familiar streets and onto an unknown road, you raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question him. the wine had left you feeling pleasantly hazy, and you were more focused on continuing your easygoing conversation than worrying about where you were headed.

“so, tell me,” you began, your words slightly slurred but still coherent, “why do you always pick these fancy places? are you still trying to impress me, Gun?”

Gun glanced at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “maybe i just like seeing you all dressed up,” he teased, his voice as smooth as the leather seats you were sitting on.

you laughed, leaning back in your seat and looking out at the unfamiliar road ahead. “well, it’s working. but you know, you don’t have to go all out every time. i'm just as happy with oversized t-shirt, most stupidest comedy and you.”

“noted,” he said with a small nod, though there was a hint of something more serious in his tone. “but tonight is special.”

you blinked, trying to process his words through the pleasant fog in your mind. “special? how so?”

“you'll see,” was all he said, and you let it go, too relaxed and warm from the wine to press him further. conversation flowed easily between the two of you as Gun drove. night seemed endless, the road stretching out in front of you like a promise of more to come. when the car finally slowed and turned into a long, tree-lined driveway, you began to wonder just where he had brought you. the driveway was impeccably maintained, with tall, ancient trees on either side casting long shadows under the soft glow of strategically placed lights.

Gun parked the car in front of an imposing mansion, the kind you’d only seen in movies. building was grand, with tall windows that gleamed in the moonlight and a wide set of steps leading up to the front door richly decorated with mahogany. you stared up at it, your slightly inebriated mind struggling to catch up with the reality of the situation.

“Gun… where are we?” you asked, your voice tinged with awe and a hint of nervousness. he turned off the engine and looked at you, his expression unreadable. “this is my family's home,” he said simply, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

your heart skipped a beat. “wait… you mean… we’re meeting your family? tonight?”

he nodded, his gaze softening as he reached out to gently take your hand. “yes, tonight. i wanted you to meet them.”

panic began to bubble up in your chest, but it was quickly tempered by the warmth of his hand in yours. the wine had left you feeling too relaxed to fully grasp the gravity of the situation. Instead, you let out a soft, nervous laugh. “well, you could have given me a bit more of a warning,” you teased, squeezing his hand as you tried to keep the mood light.

“i didn’t want you to worry,” he replied, his voice steady and reassuring. “you’ll be fine. they’ll love you.”

before you could respond, Gun stepped out of the car and walked around to your side, opening the door for you. he offered you his hand, and you took it, letting him help you out of the car. as you stood there, staring up at the mansion, the reality of what was about to happen finally sank in.

you were about to meet Yamazaki Gun’s family. tonight.

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and looked up at Gun. he was watching you with that same calm, unreadable expression, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes — something that made you feel like everything was going to be okay.

with one last squeeze of his hand, you smiled and nodded. “alright then, let's do this.”

and to be honest, everything went better than you had expected. the Yamazaki mansion was truly grand, almost overwhelming in its size and elegance. the towering shoji screens, the polished wooden floors, and the delicate tatami mats all spoke of a family with deep roots and considerable influence. people you encountered within its walls — servants, distant relatives, or perhaps close family friends — were polite, yet cold. they carried themselves with an air of reserved dignity, their words carefully chosen, their expressions unreadable.

Gun guided you through the mansion with a familiarity that showed he had once called this place home. as you walked, you couldn't help but notice how much Gun resembled his father. the elder Yamazaki was a stoic man, tall and imposing, dressed in a traditional black kimono with a hakama. he carried an aura of authority, and though his demeanor was stern, there was something in his gaze — something that hinted at a really small softness beneath his cold exterior.

Gun's mother, on the other hand, was an elegant woman, the very picture of grace and strictness, wearing a beautiful, intricately patterned kimono. her hair was pulled back in a traditional style, and her movements were precise and measured. her eyes were sharp, watching you with an intensity that made you feel as if you were being evaluated at every turn. yet, despite the coldness in her gaze, she followed every formality with exacting precision, treating you with the respect and courtesy befitting a guest in their home. she spoke little, but when she did, her words were measured and polite, though they lacked any warmth.

as the evening drew to a close, and the final course after small greeting tea ceremony was cleared away, you felt a sense of relief. it hadn’t been as daunting as you’d feared, and you were proud of how well you’d handled yourself. you expected that Gun would now take you back home, and the two of you would quietly slip away from all formalities and coldness of this house. but then Gun’s father, in his deep, commanding voice, made a suggestion that took you by surprise. “why don’t the two of you stay the night? it’s late, and it wouldn’t be wise to drive in your current state.”

you glanced at Gun, waiting for him to politely decline, but to your shock, he simply nodded. “we’ll stay.”

you blinked in surprise, a slight panic rising in your chest. you were unprepared for an overnight stay, and the idea of spending the night in Gun’s childhood home — under the same roof as his parents — was suddenly very intimidating. you opened your mouth to protest, but Gun leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “don’t worry. my father asked us to stay because he wants to discuss some business matters with me in the morning. just relax.”

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

with those words echoing in your head, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the futon, carefully prepared by the staff just a few minutes ago. the evening had been long and emotionally exhausting, but now, in the quiet of Gun’s childhood room, you felt a sense of calm begin to wash over you. after taking a shower, you had washed off the remnants of your makeup, feeling refreshed as the warm water rinsed away the day’s tension. the pleasant residue from the alcohol was still making itself felt, leaving you relaxed as you climbed into bed, where your boyfriend was already waiting for you.

Gun was lying on his back, his dark hair still damp from his own shower, his yukata loosely tied around his waist. as you slid under the covers, you immediately fell into his arms, finding comfort in the warmth of his embrace. you settled comfortably against his chest, inhaling the clean, subtle scent of his shower gel, mingled with the familiar warmth of his skin. it was a scent that was unmistakably his, grounding you in the moment as you let out a contented sigh.

for a few moments, neither of you spoke, simply enjoying the quiet intimacy of being alone together. the soft rustle of the futon as you shifted closer, the gentle rise and fall of Gun’s chest under your cheek — it all felt so peaceful, so right.

but as the silence stretched on, a small thread of anxiety began to tug at the back of your mind, and you couldn’t help but voice the question that had been lingering in your thoughts all evening. “do you think your parents liked me?”

Gun’s chest rumbled with a soft chuckle, and you felt his hand gently stroke your hair. “why do you ask? you were amazing tonight.”

“i just… i don’t know,” you murmured, feeling a little self-conscious. “your father was so serious, and your mother barely smiled. i couldn't tell what they were thinking.”

he let out another soft laugh, tilting your chin up so you could meet his eyes. “that’s just how they are. don’t take it personally. my father rarely smiles, and my mother… well, she’s always been a bit strict. but trust me, you made a good impression.”

you felt a wave of relief at his words, but you couldn’t resist teasing him a little: rolling onto your stomach, you now lay on top of him, folding your arms across his chest and resting your chin on them, you playfully asked "are you sure they're not just being polite to me?"

flicking your nose with his finger, he just laughed in response, the sound deep and genuine, and you couldn’t help but join in, the last remnants of your nerves melting away in the warmth of his laughter. but as your soft giggles subsided, the mood shifted, the lightheartedness giving way to something more intense. Gun’s eyes darkened - more, if it was even possible - as he looked at you, his playful expression fading into one of pure desire. without warning, he moved, his hands gripping your waist as he flipped you onto your back. you let out a surprised gasp, your heart skipping a beat as he loomed over you, his body pressing you into the futon. the sudden shift in his demeanor left you breathless, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you as his face hovered inches from yours.

“Gun…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your neck.

“mmm?” he hummed in response, his breath hot against your skin as he began to trail kisses along the curve of your throat. his hands moved with a deliberate slowness, slipping beneath the folds of your yukata to find the smooth skin of your back. you shivered at his touch, your body responding to the gentle caress of his fingers as they traced a path up and down your spine. his kisses grew more urgent, more passionate, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips moving hungrily against your skin as his hands roamed freely over your body. the fabric of your yukata shifted as he explored, his touch sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.

“Gun,” you gasped again, your fingers tangling in his raven hair as you arched into him, craving more of the sensation he was drawing from you. his hands were everywhere, gliding over the curve of your back, sliding down to cup your ass cheeks before moving up again, each touch sending shivers of pleasure rippling through you.

he pulled back slightly, his breath coming in shallow pants as he gazed down at you — your hair, disheveled and slightly damp from the shower, was scattered across the pillows, your breathing was a little ragged and the fabric of your yukata, pulled to the side, opened up a beautiful view of your chest, which was slightly heaving from confusion, your cheeks were burning with excitement and still a small amount of embarrassment, while due to the alcohol you barely remembered where you both were.

with a quiet growl, Gun again clung to your collarbones, his hands moved faster, skillfully, undoing the ties of your robe with practiced ease to pull the unnecessary fabric lower. without moving away from you even for a centimeter, he caressed your neck with his lips, moved up a little higher, biting the lobe of your ear and descending in a wet path lower, again to the collarbones, this time not lingering there, but going lower to your chest, clasping it with one hand and kneading it in his large, calloused palm. with each of his movements, you moved towards him more and more, forgetting yourself and melting in his arms, moaning from his each touch.

as he skillfully make the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed beneath him, he groaned softly, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

“you are so beautiful” he murmured, his voice filled with reverence as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours, his hands on your body. right now there was only Gun, his touch, his warmth, the overwhelming passion that consumed you both.

“please” you whispered into his lips as he rose above you on his elbows again. one of his hands had already slid below your tummy, stroking your pussy with his entire palm, only fleetingly touching the sensitive bundle of nerves, pulling the first loud moan out of you.

“come on kitten, be quiet, you remember where we are” Gun's hot whisper enveloped your ear as his fingers continued to play with your wet pussy. “you know, this is a traditional old style house, the walls here are extremely thin” your boyfriend continued to whisper in your ear, enjoying your once again confused look as your cheeks flushed with renewed vigor. “you don't want anyone to hear us, do you, baby?” now one of his fingers slid up and down between your lips, smearing the moisture oozing out of you all over the entrance. he was lying on his side next to you, one of his hands reached under your neck as he place one finger in your mouth, making you suck and lick it with your tongue, while his other hand never left your pussy, now more insistently stroking and massaging your clit with one finger, while the other played with your tight entrance, pushing finger in just halfway.

time seemed to stand still as you surrendered to him, your body responding to his every caress and touch, every kiss, every whisper. the intensity of the moment, the way he made you feel cherished, desired, loved—it was all-encompassing, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

and that's when you reached your first peak from his fingers caressing you deep inside, when your hot and wet walls tightened around him, and you could no longer stifle your moans with his fingers behind your cheek, only then Gun smiled insidiously, and with one light movement turned your softened body back onto your stomach. without wasting a second, his hands dug into the soft skin of your sides, right where he could feel the pelvic bones, and with your clouded brain you already assumed that there would be traces there in the morning. reaching for a pillow, and pushing it between your thighs and the futon, Gun hurriedly, casually stroked your pussy, passing from bottom to top, collecting all the juices of your previous orgasm, simultaneously stroking his cock, smearing mix of your saliva and his own spit along the entire length.

whimpering softly and burying your head in the pillow, in an attempt to stifle your moans, you gasped, clutching at the edges of the futon and the blanket under you, as the fat tip of his dick slowly squeezed into your tensed, gummy folds, painfully stretching you. a deep and heavy moan was heard from behind when Gun collapsed on top of you with all his weight, completely plunging his fat dick into your bosom, in one sharp movement, immediately hitting the g-spot, forcing you to arch your back, pressing your ass harder into his hips. with a satisfied purr, Gun covered your hands with his own, fastening them together into a lock, again leaning closer to you with his all body, pressing you into the thin mattress, he began to slowly move inside your warmth.

with each strong thrust, as he picked up speed, with each of his heavy breaths into your neck, it became harder for you to hold your ass higher, as well as your moans, almost drowned out by the pillow. over and over, as Gun's thick cock filled your gummy, warm walls completely, your eyelids grew heavy and your head fell back, right on his shoulder, as your jaw dropped, allowing sweet moans and whimpers to escape from your throat.

“kitten still wants the whole house to hear her, mm?” your boyfriend purrs breathlessly in your ear, mercilessly hammering into your poor pussy, forcing you to give up, and fall on the bed with your whole body, and only moan piteously when one of his arms wraps around your neck and closes your mouth, and the other one gets tangled in your hair, pulling it back just a little.

you never doubted that in the matter of bed, Gun always was a bit more wild and animalistic, but the way his hips slammed into you now, how heavy balls were beating against your clit, and the dirty sounds of squelching and slapping skin against skin, how his biceps tensed right where your cheek lay, all this made your eyes roll up to the back of your head and just whine pathetically under him and drool on his muscles.

you didn't even have the strength left, to hold still, all that helped him mercilessly hammer you into the mattress was the pillow under your hips while you lay under him and helplessly muttering incoherent words and praises. both intoxicated by the euphoria of sex, emotions and feelings, the two of you have lost your sense of time and space, just chasing your own peak and pleasure. to be honest, you didn't think much when your pussy covered Gun's twitching dick with cream, when he hitted his pink head right to the cervix, forcing you to scream and arch towards him, pressing your ass into his hips, and feel with your shoulder blades as his chest pressing you into bed.

and to be completely honest, you almost didn't remember how you both cum, the most important thing that was in front of your eyes was Gun's chest and his warm hand gently caressing your back, while he murmured something into your hair, when he covered you both with a blanket and you fell into a sweet sleep.

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

BONUS ;

the morning sunlight filtered softly through the shoji screens, casting a gentle glow over the room. you blinked awake, feeling the warmth of the futon and the lingering scent of Gun beside you. but as you turned over, reaching out to pull him closer, you found his side of the bed empty and cold. confusion washed over you as you sat up, realizing he was gone.

events of the night before came rushing back, and a deep blush crept over your cheeks. you buried your face in your hands, mortified at the thought of facing anyone after what had happened. Gun's parents, the staff — how could you possibly look them in the eye now? the thought of leaving the room made your heart race with anxiety, so you resolved to stay put, hoping to avoid any awkward encounters. minutes ticked by, each one stretching out into what felt like an eternity. you had no idea where Gun had gone or when he'd be back, leaving you in an uncomfortable solitude.

and just as you were about to retreat further under the covers, there was a soft knock at the door. your heart skipped a beat, dread pooling in your stomach. before you could respond, the door slid open, and Gun’s mother stepped inside.

she was impeccably dressed, her expression calm and composed. you immediately lowered your gaze, unable to meet her eyes, but she approached with a certain grace, her footsteps barely making a sound on the tatami mats.

“good morning,” she greeted you, her voice steady.

“m-mrs. Yamazaki,” you stammered, still unable to look up. “i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to-”

“stop,” she interrupted, her tone firm but not unkind. “you have nothing to be sorry of. it’s natural.”

you finally dared to glance up at her, confusion flickering in your eyes. she took a seat beside you on the futon, her movements deliberate and serene. “you’re a woman, and you’re desired and loved. there’s nothing shameful about that. that’s just the nature of men — wild and unbridled when a woman is around. i was in your place once, and someday, you’ll be in mine.”

you blinked, taken aback by her words. was that… a blessing?

“wait,” you began hesitantly, “so… you heard everything?”

mrs. Yamazaki let out a soft sigh, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes. “i’m not an idiot. from beginning i saw the way my son looks at you. and i know Yuzuru well enough, and what’s going on in his head, to prepare your bedroom far away from our own.”

your cheeks burned hotter, the mortification almost unbearable. “so… you didn’t hear?”

she paused, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “let’s say the whole mansion didn’t hear you… but maybe some part of it did.”

you swore you caught a fleeting, light, and kind laugh in her voice, and for a moment, the tension between you eased. there was a warmth in her tone that you hadn’t expected, something almost motherly and understanding.

“i...” you trailed off, still unsure of what to say.

mrs. Yamazaki reached out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “you are welcome here, as long as you make my son happy. and believe me, i haven't seen him this happy in a very long time.”

her words soothed some of the anxiety gnawing at you, and you managed a small, grateful smile. “thank you.”

she nodded, standing up gracefully. “now, come along. breakfast is ready.” as she turned to leave, you felt a sense of relief, the earlier embarrassment slowly fading.

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

author's note 3 ; I FOUGHT INNER DEMONS TO FINISH IT I SWEAR!! SORRY THAT SPICY PART WASN’T THAT JUICY AND STUFF, I STILL NEED TO LEARN HOW TO WRITE PORN…HOPE U GUYS LIKE IT😤😤🫶🏻

504 notes · View notes

fear-less · 22 days ago

Note

Request!!!!!!!!!!!!¡!!!!!!!!!!¡!!!!¡!!!¡!!!!!!!!!¡!!!!!¡¡!!!!!! Anyways teen mom reader x any character ig lol totally fine if you're not comfortable writing for that I'm a teen mom and YA lol perfectly fine if you're not comfortable though totally get it have a great day <3

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 thorns with my petals

paring: regulus black x f!reader

➥ In which, you find out you're pregnant and go through many emotions, especially when you realize you'll have to tell Regulus about it, luckily he doesn't seem as scared about it as you are.

warnings: teen pregnancy, reg stays DON'T worry, fluff, angst, happy ending woo, sirius and reg are on good terms in this bc duhh, and a few time skips.

2.0K words

The chill of late autumn settled over the castle as you sat in the quiet corner of the library, staring blankly at your parchment. The Charms essay in front of you might as well have been written in Gobbledegook for all you could concentrate on it. Your hands trembled slightly as they rested in your lap, still trying to process the news you'd received earlier that day.

Madam Pomfrey's kind but firm words echoed in your mind. "You're a few weeks along, my dear. It’s not uncommon to feel overwhelmed, but I’ll be here to help, should you need anything."

You were pregnant.

It didn’t feel real yet—how could it? You were just a student at Hogwarts, barely scraping through Transfiguration and dodging Peeves' pranks. How were you supposed to take on something so enormous, so life-changing? And how would you tell Regulus?

The thought of him made your heart twist. Regulus Black was not an easy person to read, though you knew him better than most. He had a quiet intensity, a weight on his shoulders that he never spoke of, and a fierce loyalty that burned brightly when it came to you. Still, he was young, like you, and tied to a family that would likely never forgive this kind of scandal.

The library door creaked open, and instinctively, you looked up. There he was, tall and elegant in his Slytherin robes, his dark hair slightly missed from the wind outside. He scanned the room, and when his gaze landed on you, his lips curved into that small, private smile he reserved only for you.

"Hey," he greeted softly, sliding into the seat across from you. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

You swallowed hard, suddenly finding it impossible to meet his eyes. "I—I need to talk to you about something."

His brows knitted together, concern flickering across his features. "Is everything alright?"

The words caught in your throat, tangled with fear and doubt. Regulus reached across the table, taking your trembling hands in his. His touch was grounding, as it always was.

"You can tell me anything, you know that," he said, his voice steady.

You nodded, taking a shaky breath. "I'm... I'm pregnant."

For a moment, the world seemed to still. His grip on your hands didn’t falter, but his expression shifted—surprise, disbelief, and then something softer, something that made your chest ache.

"You're sure?" he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded again, tears welling up despite your best efforts to hold them back. "Madam Pomfrey confirmed it this morning."

Regulus sat back, running a hand through his hair as he processed your words. "Okay," he said finally, the word surprising you with its calmness. "Okay."

"That's all you have to say?" you asked, your voice trembling.

"No," he said quickly, leaning forward again. "No, it's not. I just—I need a moment to think." He exhaled deeply, his gaze locking onto yours. "This isn’t what we planned, obviously, but... I’m not going anywhere. We'll figure this out together."

His words brought a fresh wave of tears, but this time, they carried relief. You hadn’t realized how much you’d feared his reaction until now.

"What about your family?" you asked hesitantly.

A shadow passed over his face, but he shook his head. "They don’t matter. You matter. This—" he gestured between you—"matters. We’ll handle it, whatever it takes."

You reached across the table, cupping his cheek. "I was so scared," you admitted.

"I know," he said, covering your hand with his. "But you’re not alone in this. Not ever."

In that moment, despite the uncertainty of the future, you believed him. Regulus had always been your anchor, and now, you would be his too.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Many months later…

The small cottage you and Regulus had made your home after graduation was quiet, save for the sound of the rain pattering against the windows. The world outside was gray, but inside, everything felt warmer—a sanctuary you had built together, away from the expectations and chaos of the Black family and the wizarding world.

Regulus paced the length of the sitting room, his usually composed demeanor cracking under the weight of his nerves. Every so often, he glanced toward the closed bedroom door, where Madam Pomfrey—who had insisted on being there—was helping you through labor.

"Regulus, love, sit down before you wear a hole in the floor," Sirius teased, leaning casually against the doorway. He had shown up unannounced the day before, claiming he wouldn’t miss this for the world. His grin was wide, but even he couldn’t hide the tension in his eyes as the occasional sound of your pained cries echoed through the cottage.

"I can’t just sit," Regulus snapped, running a hand through his already-disheveled hair. "She’s in pain, Sirius. Real pain, and I can’t do anything to help her."

"She’s stronger than you think," Sirius said, his voice softening. "You’d know that if you weren’t so busy pacing."

Regulus shot him a glare but said nothing. Instead, he turned to the window, watching the rainfall in steady streams. His mind raced with thoughts of you—your strength, your determination, and how you had faced the last nine months with a courage that left him in awe. He wanted nothing more than to be by your side, to hold your hand and whisper that everything would be okay.

Just then, the door creaked open, and Madam Pomfrey stepped out. Regulus froze, his breath catching in his throat.

"It’s time," she said with a small smile, her face flushed but kind. "She’s asking for you."

Regulus didn’t wait for another word. He brushed past her, entering the bedroom with his heart pounding in his chest.

You were lying in bed, your hair damp with sweat and your face pale but glowing with determination. Your eyes met his, and despite the exhaustion etched into your features, you managed a weak smile.

"Hey," you whispered.

"Hey," he murmured, rushing to your side and taking your hand in his. His fingers were cold, but his touch was steady, grounding you as another wave of pain rippled through your body.

"I can’t do this," you choked out, tears streaming down your face.

"Yes, you can," he said firmly, his voice filled with a confidence that surprised even him. "You’re the strongest person I know. I’m right here, and I’m not leaving."

With his words and the gentle encouragement of Madam Pomfrey, you found the strength to push through the pain. The minutes stretched into what felt like hours, but finally, a cry filled the room—soft and piercing all at once.

Madam Pomfrey carefully placed the tiny, wriggling baby into your arms, and you felt your breath catch. The weight of the child, your child, was both surreal and grounding. Regulus leaned closer, his wide eyes locked on the baby.

"It’s a boy," Madam Pomfrey announced with a proud smile.

"A boy," Regulus repeated, his voice barely a whisper. His hand trembled as he reached out to brush a finger against the baby’s cheek.

You glanced at him, tears streaming down your face. "We did it," you said, your voice breaking.

He looked at you then, his gray eyes shining with emotion you’d rarely seen. "You did it," he corrected softly. "You’re incredible."

The baby let out a small, hiccuping cry, and Regulus carefully scooped him into his arms. He stared down at the tiny face, his expression a mixture of awe and love.

"He’s perfect," he murmured.

"And so are you," you said, watching him cradle your son with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

Sirius peeked his head into the room, a rare softness in his expression. "So? What’s his name?"

Regulus glanced at you, and you exchanged a smile. "Orion," you said in unison, the name a tribute to the stars that had always guided you both, even in the darkest times.

As the storm outside began to ease, a sense of peace settled over the room. In that moment, surrounded by love and new beginnings, you realized that despite the challenges ahead, you were exactly where you were meant to be—with Regulus by your side and your son in your arms.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

11 years later…

The crisp September air carried the hum of excitement as families bustled around Platform 9¾. The scarlet Hogwarts Express stood gleaming on the tracks, its whistle echoing through the station. You stood hand-in-hand with Regulus, watching as your eleven-year-old son, Orion, darted between trunks and trolleys with boundless energy.

"Slow down, love, or you’ll knock someone over!" you called after him, though you couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

Regulus chuckled beside you, his arm slipping around your waist. "He’s been waiting for this moment since he could hold a wand," he said, his voice soft but filled with pride.

"Sounds like someone I know," you teased, nudging him gently.

"Except he’s far more excited than I ever was," Regulus admitted. His gaze followed Orion as he helped a smaller boy with his luggage. "He doesn’t have the weight of family expectations hanging over him. He gets to just… be."

You leaned into him, understanding the unspoken words. Regulus had come a long way from the boy who once felt trapped by the Black name. Together, you’d built a life for Orion filled with love, freedom, and the chance to define his own path.

"Dad! Mum!" Orion’s voice rang out as he waved you over to where his trunk was now safely stowed on the train. His face was alight with excitement, his gray eyes—so much like his father’s—sparkling with wonder.

"Have you got everything?" you asked, crouching down to check his robes and tie one last time. "Your wand, your books, the lunch I packed?"

"Mum," he groaned, rolling his eyes in that way only an eleven-year-old could. "I’ve got everything. I’m not a baby."

Regulus smirked, kneeling down beside you. "She’s going to worry no matter what, Orion. You’ll just have to write home and reassure her every day."

"Every day?" Orion groaned dramatically, though his grin betrayed him. "Maybe once a week. If I’m not too busy being the best student Hogwarts has ever seen."

"Best student, huh?" Regulus arched an eyebrow. "Let’s start with staying out of detention, shall we?"

Orion grinned mischievously. "No promises."

The train’s whistle blew, signaling the final call for boarding. Your heart clenched as you realized the moment had come.

"Alright, love," you said, pulling Orion into a tight hug. "Be brave, be kind, and don’t forget how much we love you."

"I won’t," he mumbled, hugging you back with surprising force.

Regulus pulled him into a quick but firm embrace. "And remember," he said, his voice quiet but steady, "the Sorting Hat listens to you. Whatever house you choose, we’ll be proud of you."

Orion nodded, his expression momentarily serious. Then, with a bright smile, he picked up his owl’s cage and turned toward the train. "See you at Christmas!" he called as he climbed aboard.

You and Regulus stood side by side, waving as the train began to move. Orion leaned out the window, waving frantically until the train turned a corner and disappeared from view.

The platform slowly emptied as other families departed, but you and Regulus lingered, the weight of the moment settling over you.

"He’ll be alright," Regulus said, slipping his hand into yours.

"I know," you whispered, though tears pricked your eyes. "But it’s hard letting him go."

Regulus pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your temple. "He’s strong, like his mother. And he’s got a whole world ahead of him."

You looked up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. "He’s got the best parts of you, too."

The two of you stood there for a moment longer, watching the empty tracks. Though your hearts ached with the bittersweet pride of watching your son grow up, you knew this was just the beginning of his own adventure—and you’d always be there to cheer him on.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshots #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry james potter x y/n #marauders x reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus black smut #regulus black x reader #regulus black fluff #regulus black

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holycrimin · 6 months ago

Text

In honor of me getting my first ever TMNT Comic,

here's Leo with a crush who gets overly excited when gifted something they're obsessed/hyperfixated with (cough definitely not me cough)

while I did buy the comic for myself (it was an Eastman and Laird's TMNT adventure special) I wanted to explore this more because my brain is way too active and i need an outlet lol

pls dont blame me if its a little ooc, im trying my best and this is impulsive T0T

note: Reader uses they/them, Leo is a massive dork, semi proofread

2012!Leo x Expressive!Reader

Saw something he thought you'd like while on patrol,

"Hey guys, you think they'll like this?" He looks throught the window.

They snicker and shit on him (lovingly in a sibling way)

Whether it was a poster or figurine or comic, he's getting that baby just for you

Obviously he'd get it by paying because stealing would be wrong.

And by paying he means snatching it in the middle of the night and leaving a twenty with an apology note

Because that's what heroes do

anyway

Hops up to your apartment,

(with his brothers watching from the shadows because they absolutely cannot resist a good show. yes, even Donnie; like a true hypocrite)

He makes sure that neither your parents are there with you and he knocks on the window

You, with your ultra smart brain, immediately knew it was him because it was either that or a murderer that climbed up to specifically your window to murder you

which was unlikely, but hey, so was being friends with a giant turtle

You open your window and are immediately greeted with a shiny (not-so-brand new) comic/poster/figurine of the thing you talked about nonstop for weeks. maybe months. actually now that you think about it it mightve been year—

"Hey."

"Wh-"

"No way. NO WAY." You take it out of his hands (gently) and look at it in awe, before looking up at him with a dazzled expression

(If you squinted you could see sparkles coming off of you)

"What- Where- Dude. Where'd you even find this?!" A wide grin on your face as you look at him.

"Oh y'know.. Patrol and fighting bad guys, awesome stuff. Uh, then, y'know.. I found some merch that I thought you'd like."

"Dude he's seriously blowing this." one of the guys (mikey) whisper. "Yeah, he's worse than Donnie." he says, earning a 'Hey!' from Donnie.

Leo glares at them for a second before turning his attention back to you.

You let out a giddy giggle, "ahh! dude!"

"Dude." You set it down gently and put both of your hands on his shoulders. "I. Love you. So much. You know that?"

He blushes a little, "Well, I mean, it's not really a big de-"

"Not a big deal?! DUDDEE I LOVE IT SO MUCH. Is this a marriage proposal?" You say, shaking him a little.

"Wh- um.. What?" Leo lets out a weak chuckle, he feels his face heating up. "Because I accept. Let's get married, I love you so much. Oh my god, you have no idea-"

Ohhh god.

Yeah, that does it.

Well, even more than it already has.

"Whahahaha... Okay, uh, You don't really mean that, do y-" Oh.

"..Oh, sorry, is that too far? I mean, I do it with my other friends, but I'm not sure- Leo?" Yeah, no this is going to kill him. Kinda pathetic, huh? That a kiss on the cheek could send him spiraling just like that.

"Ah.. hahahah! Okay cool, haha.. uh, bye! I'll ah.. see you tomorrow? yep. Yeah. Okay, bye!"

He runs off.

Aw crap.

Did you do something wrong? God, you hope not. Maybe you should tone it down next time.

"Smooth moves brother, really got them falling for you."

"Shut up."

------------------------

Total writing time: idk like 15-20 mins?

Any fellow fic writers feel free to take inspo or even write a direct sequel to this, I just really like this idea and would absolutely love to read more abt it lol

#tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #2012 leo x reader #leonardo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #leo x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt 2012 leo x reader #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #x reader #2012 leonardo #2012 leonardo x reader #leonardo hamato #tmnt leo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt 2012 leo

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macabr3-barbi3 · 7 months ago

Note

I know you’re on a Vox kick rn but if you get back into Al anytime soon I had a bit of an idea!

Maybe reader was hanging out with Al, not realizing he was courting her (and she was technically accepting) and then she went out and basically cheated on him bcuz she had no clue they were low key together.

Anyway he totally flips and PROVES they’re together…?

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG AHHHHHH

I did go the nsfw route with this one so 👀👀👀 I hope you enjoy!!!

Tags: accidental cheating, semi-public sex, , possessive Alastor, tentacles as a gag sort of lol

MDNI 18+ 3.3k words ❤️🦌

You didn’t think anything of Alastor’s raised eyebrow when you accepted Angel’s offer to join him out at a club, or how his clawed hand grips his cane a little bit tighter when he spots you coming down the stairs in the outfit that the spider had picked out for you. You give him a smile and a wave on your way out the door, and if his eye twitches a little bit, well- Alastor was a weird guy.

Which didn’t negate the fact that he was hot as fuck; not to mention a complete gentleman, and funny, and overall kind when he wasn’t in a murderous rampage and eating people. And sure, he had gotten a little closer to you lately- you enjoyed a cup of coffee together every morning, he always made sure to save you a seat at the dinner table, he would get you little trinkets and bits of jewelry or treats when he was out and about in the city. Whenever you accompanied him to Cannibal Town he insisted on paying the tab, and always made sure to walk you back to your door before retiring for the night; he would invite you to his room for evening tea, and you had fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder only to awaken tucked comfortably into your bed more time than you could count. Last week he had even given you a peck on the cheek instead of just the back of your hand, a sweet blush overtaking his features before he vanished into the shadows, and it took everything in you not to grab him before he disappeared and invite him into your room.

Because Alastor wasn’t interested in those things. That was what you heard from everyone, from Angel, from Husk when you had drunkenly confessed to him at the bar one night. That it was better to just put the idea from your head, the Radio Demon has never shown any inclination towards things like love and romance or sex. You were loving getting closer to him, becoming a companion he enjoyed spending time with, but you had needs that couldn’t be met by the sweet words and kind gestures of a friend.

Hence, your presence with Angel in Consent. He was here to drink and dance; you were here for that as well, but also maybe a quick hookup in one of the club’s sex rooms. It had been far too long since you’d had a decent tumble in the sheets, and the continuous frustration at being so close to Alastor and perpetually unable to touch was driving you mad. You took the first drink that Angel handed you and knocked it back in one go, smiling when the spider whooped like a lunatic and dragged you out onto the floor.

More than an hour of accepting drinks from Angel (he was the one with money between you) and dancing with any and everyone, it was almost, almost what you needed. The air was hot with how many demons were jammed into the space of the dance floor, sweat dripped down your face and the small of your back, and your chest heaved with the force of your breathing when you finally opted to take a break. You squeezed Angel’s arm in a temporary farewell and made your way to the bar. You thought about putting one more drink on his tab but decided against it, opting to ask for water instead.

“Excuse me,” you hear to your right, and you’re met with the sight of one of the demons that Angel worked with; not one of the actors, but maybe a cameraman? Light technician? Either way, he was someone you had seen around Val’s studio before when you came to collect him at the end of the regularly scheduled nights. He was tall and attractive, and his eyes had seen too many of the shoots in Vee tower because they were just screaming ‘fuck me.’ “Think your boyfriend would object to me buying you a drink, pretty thing?”

“Considering he doesn’t exist I don’t think he would mind,” you say, and when he smiles all sharp teeth at you the low buzz of arousal isn’t quite the same as it usually is with another razor-tipped grin.

He wasn’t Alastor, but you would make do.

-.-.-

It’s barely ten minutes later that you’re walking back to the hotel alone with a stain on your nice, borrowed skirt- you figured with Angel’s line of work he would know how to get it out. You had texted him that you were going home already, too miffed about the shitshow in the sex room to ask him to accompany you, pissed enough that you think you can handle any asshole that might try to mess you with on the way. Val’s lackey had hardly managed some kissing and fingering before thrusting himself into you and giving a few quick pumps before he groaned and stilled against you. Pulling out, he trailed across your hiked up skirt and asked if you had ‘gotten there,’ and you laughed in his face before pulling your shirt back up and leaving.

“Fucking men,” you were muttering under your breath, not noticing the shadows that slipped along the sidewalk behind you as you walked with the strange sensation of the man’s release on your thighs. “Either not interested in sex at all or so fucking eager for it they bust before I can even fucking-”

Something slips around your head and covers your mouth, effectively cutting you off. Your hands come up to grab at it, tear it away, and another circles your waist, dragging you back into the dark shadows of a nearby alley. You bare your claws, eyes flashing red and preparing yourself for a fight when you realize the demon before you is Alastor.

A supremely angry Alastor, by the looks of it. His smile is tense and strained, eyebrows drawn down low in a glare as he looks down at you, nearly a full head shorter than him but refusing to cower under his rage- not realizing that you should probably be scared. “Fuck, you scared me,” you start, pulling the slack shadow tentacle away from your mouth, only for it to tighten once again and force you back into silence.

“This manner of betrayal,” he says carefully, like the words are being plucked from him with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel, “is unacceptable.” His voice goes full static, the intensity of it almost hurting your ears. “Of all the scum that inhabits Hell I’d never have expected this from you, cherie. Tell me,” he demands, trailing a clawed finger down your cheek and removing the shadow over your mouth. “What could have possibly possessed you to act in such a manner?”

“Alastor, what-” The heat of him so close to you, not quite touching but close enough that the slightest movement would slot your bodies against one another, has your brain fuzzy. “Betrayal? What are you talking about?”

“I can fucking smell him on you,” he snarls, and now he does step close enough to touch, caging you between his body and the wall behind you. “His cologne on your clothing, his release on your skin. You claim to not know what I refer to when I could just as soon touch the evidence beneath your skirt before you could deny it?”

A hand comes down to the bottom of your skirt, toying with the hem, and you nearly choke on your breath. The dying arousal you had felt earlier from the demon in the sex room returns at full force, even as confused as you were with the situation, with what Alastor was saying. “Why- fuck, why does that matter? Alastor!”

You cry out in surprise when his fingers reach under your clothing, the brush of his thumb against your inner thigh before he pulls back, the thin substance of your partner’s cum coating his finger. Your face flames with heat when he brings the digit to his mouth and fucking sucks it clean. Somehow, this seems to calm him, his breath steadier and his eyes losing some of the murderous glint to them. “That you would lower yourself in this way,” he murmurs, his smile twisting into something sarcastic and hurt, “when you’ve had an attentive, willing beau this entire time that you’ve not deigned to touch, or asked to touch you in return?”

“B-beau?” His hand has returned to the space below the hem of your skirt, tracing patterns into the soft skin there, only distracting you a little. “What-”

“Perhaps a lesson, hmm? To remind you of who, exactly, you belong to. Of course darling, we’ll first have to rid you of the evidence of your transgressions…” And in a move that shocks you almost as much as it makes your stomach clench and swoop, the Radio Demon drops to his knees on the damp, dirty asphalt of the alley.

Your breath punches out of you when he looks up at you, head level with your lower body, and asks, “or do you have any objections to that?” With his hands fisted in the fabric of your skirt.

“No! No objections, fuck, please” you manage, and then your pussy is met with the cool air of the night as he shoves your skirt up and your panties simply vanish. It’s hardly a moment of anticipation before his tongue is pressed against you, warm and slick and circling incessantly at your swollen clit and then dipping down, licking at you with determination that makes you cry out, the sound echoing in the alley. “Alast-”

A tendril of shadow pushes past your lips, and Alastor hums against your pelvis below you. “Quiet now, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves with every word. “Already one person too many has seen you in the throes of passion tonight- I’ll be damned if there is another.” He licks your drenched folds again, the strong line of his nose keeping pressure on your clit as he angles his head and pushes in, and your hands fly off the wall to clutch desperately at his hair. The sounds coming from where he’s connected to you are loud and lewd, wet suckling noises as he bends and twists his agile muscle inside of you.

The tentacle thing in your mouth isn’t large enough to choke you, and tiny snippets of sound still escape you from Alastor’s ministrations. Your body feels like a livewire, crackling with energy that stems from where he feasts on you and threatens to shatter outwards, destroying everything in its wake. He pulls back and you whine at the loss, the shadow petting your tongue almost soothingly when Alastor looks up at you, eyes wild. “Almost finished, dear,” he murmurs. “I’ll ensure that every trace of that cretin is gone- he tastes vile, not even this much of him deserves to be anywhere near you.” He releases your skirt at last, his fingers pressing against the entrance of your cunt with a smile and his tongue swiping the evidence of what he was cleaning you of. “A cheap substitution for me, to be sure; allow me to provide a more refined alternative.” His finger hooks inside of you, mindful of the clawed tip, and drags slowly, brushing against that soft spot inside that makes you see the white of static behind your eyelids, makes you clench down hard on the digit before it slides out and Alastor stands to his full height again, satisfied that he has successfully removed the cum of the stranger, hands at his waistband and pulling his belt open with a clink of metal.

He hikes your legs up around his waist, and you feel the hot length of him pressed against your sensitive flesh. "Will you allow me to take you, darling? Feel the sweet clench of you around me at last, and erase every remnant of the unworthy sinner before me?"

“Fuck, yes, Alastor,” you pant when the tentacle slips from your mouth, and fucking finally his lips are on yours, and its everything you had been fantisizing about for months. His tongue glides against yours, licking into the wet cavern of your mouth, and you moan at the taste of yourself on him. Your voice is lost between his teeth when he presses into you, his cock like velvet coated steel against your inner walls, still pulsing and twitching from being right on the edge of your own orgasm. He groans into your mouth when he reaches the hilt, his hands tightening their grip on your hips and bucking his own forward to sheath himself further inside of you.

“Divine,” he murmurs against your mouth, sharp teeth catching on your lips and causing blood to pool on your tongue before he can suck it away. “Perfect, darling- well worth the wait, even considering the situation we find ourselves in.” Its frankly unfair how well spoken he still is, even as he steadily pounds into your willing body without so much as a catch in his breath. “I’ll never again be satisfied unless I am on the verge of spilling into the tight heat of your body. How does that sound, d-dearest?”

Finally his voice cracks, his body stuttering against yours as he fights to maintain his control. “Please,” you whisper, “please, I’ll do anything- I need it.” He laughs against your neck and drags his tongue over your sweaty skin, the hard length of him inside of you more perfect than it has any right to be. He fucks into you with a reckless abandon that was surely going to get you caught, moans and whimpers tearing themselves from your mouth when he occasionally releases your lips to nip and suck at your skin. “I’ve wanted- for so long, please…”

“You could’ve had me,” he growls, “at any time. And instead you’ve come to this den of delinquency and allowed another to take you instead. But we’re fixing it now, darling-” His hips slam hard into you, the sound of his balls slapping your skin with every thrust the only thing you can hear under his moans, under yours, the cries that echo within the space between you.

A hand comes up to cup the back of your head, pulling you closer not for a kiss but to rest his forehead against yours. “Tell me,” he demands, and it feels like a plea with how wide and manic his eyes are, how desperately he bucks and grinds into you. “Tell me you’re mine. Promise you’ll never go to another again- that I am enough.”

“Yes,” you agree breathlessly, “yes, Alastor, please-”

“Say it,” he snarls, his sharp teeth snapping inches from your face, his smile possessed as he pounds into your cunt with a feverous need. “I need you to say it, darling, my doe, please-”

“Yours- oh fuck, please, always yours, Alastor- no one else, never again-” He cuts you off with his tongue licking into your mouth, like he means to steal your breath, to swallow you whole from the inside. He releases your head to rub skillfully at the sensitive bundle of nerves above where you’re connected, and your world goes white as you cum, a scream lost into his mouth as you shake in his embrace, internal walls clamping down with brutal force, the hard length of him inside of you more perfect than it has any right to be.He loses his rhythm against you, his pelvis stuttering with a couple more sharp thrusts before he stills, spending himself inside you with long, hot pulses that make you shiver in the aftermath of your own orgasm.

You stand there trembling against one another for a moment before Alastor assists you in standing on your own feet again, righting your skirt and getting rid of the stain on it with a snap of his fingers. He keeps his hands on you after he’s tucked himself away, over the curve of your waist, your arms, fiddling with your hands in the space between your bodies. When he finally speaks, his voice is soft and hurt.

“I must know, darling- what was I lacking?”

Your eyebrows scrunch. “What do you mean?”

“In my courting,” he clarifies, and cups your cheek in one hand. “I so wish you had come to me first if you had needs to be met- surely you must have a reason for why you didn’t do so?”

“Courting? What are you talking about?”

He freezes, the static fading from the air around you in mere moments and Alastor searching your eyes. “I mean myself, of course,” he says, and while his voice is clear there’s a hint of surprise to it. “We’ve been courting for the better portion of a year.”

“We’ve what?” You think of the closeness you had shared for a while, the gifts and friendly touches and such that you had been interpreting as mere platonic affections. “Oh Satan,” you breath, as you realize you’ve been misunderstanding this whole time- he wanted you to touch him. He wanted to touch you- he was upset thinking that you had gone elsewhere when he would have been more than happy to-

Alastor’s hand leaves your skin and he takes a step back. “You… you accepted, dear,” he says imploringly. “My- my gestures, my affections. I thought-'' His eyes widen and his smile goes tense, his entire body following suit. “It would seem I owe you an apology, darling. I see that the situation at hand has come about of my own incorrect assumptions.” His shadows retreat, the shape of his form already less than corporeal when you let your hand dart out to wrap around his arm as he tries to slink away.

“No! Wait, please, I didn’t know-” He resolidifies before you, his expression still guarded as he looks down at you. “I promise- if I had known I would have never come out with Angel tonight. I thought- everyone told me you weren’t interested in sex or relationships, so even though I had those feelings I wasn’t going to make it your problem.”

“Hence your presence here tonight.” He sighs, the tension melting from his body as he comes closer again, reaches out for you and holds your face in his hand. “I was trying to be courteous in my courting of you; taking it slow so as not to startle you away. You truly didn’t realize with the time I spent with you, the small gifts and gestures?”

“I didn’t want to assume anything and make you make a run for it.”

Alastor shakes his head, a small, half annoyed half incredulous huff accompanying the movement. “It seems a bit of communication might have saved us both the wasted time. I admit I feel like a fool, for not simply being upfront regarding my intentions.”

You also felt like an idiot- instead of talking to him you had let the others scare you out of months of what could've been nights full of blissful pleasure rather than frustrated tossing and agonizing over your own feelings. Just before you could open your mouth to tell him how sorry you were for the mess you felt you caused, he was already speaking, his voice soft and yet rough around its edges.

"Well, then let's not cry over spilled milk. Too many moments were wasted already, we won't waste one another with useless apologies, since I believe both of us have made our standpoints quite clear a few minutes ago, don't you agree, darling?"

As if to help you recount, he presses his forehead on yours, a slender arm wrapping around your waist, and you can't help but smile back at his grinning face. He doesn’t release you as he allows you both to drop into shadows, and you can’t wait to see what life will be like properly at Alastor’s side.

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #ao3 writer #alastor #ao3 fanfic #hazbin alastor #x reader #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #my stuff <3 #requests <3

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comatosebunny09 · 14 days ago

Text

As a result of watching more dramas, humor me.

You plan to go home for the holidays to spend them with your parents.

Your mother’s been setting you up on blind dates in hopes of eventually finding you a match. She reasons you’re not getting any younger, so it’s time you settle down and start working on a family. Her intentions are good, but you just wish she’d stop badgering you.

You don’t necessarily live the lifestyle where you can afford to have a partner right now.

You work for Onychinus’ leader, Sylus, as an assassin. You’re at the peak of your game, so much so that you’re considered his right hand by his enemies. You also secretly harbor feelings for your boss, but you know they’re fruitless because you think a relationship, let alone with you, is the furthest thing from his mind.

Anyways, you’re drinking at one of Sylus’ bars one evening, venting to him about your mother. He always humors you when you’re not working—you bring a certain flair to his life that he admits makes his days much more entertaining.

“Why don’t I pretend to be your boyfriend, then? Just to get her off your back,” he suggests with an amused crinkle to his eyes, watching you as he sips his whiskey.

You snort incredulously. Sylus and boyfriend are never two words you would imagine fitting in the same sentence. Still, you can’t deny entertaining the idea of what it’d be like to be something…more to him.

You brush him off as just humoring you as usual, snatching your coat from the barstool and fixing your boss with a sardonic smirk.

“Yeah, right. See ya around, bossman.”

Your flight home leaves first thing in the morning. As much as you would like to stick around to shoot the shit with him, you need your rest to deal with your mother come morning.

Fast forward, and you’re back in your childhood home. You feel strange, being in your cutesy, innocent bedroom like there isn’t so much invisible blood on your hands and like you haven’t long shed the sheltered skin you once wore when you were younger.

Your parents don’t know the full extent of what you do. They know you make a generous amount of money—you’ve bought them luxurious cars and clothes and sent them on exclusive vacations. You would buy them a plot of land with a beautiful home built from the ground up if they’d let you, but your parents insist on staying where they’re familiar.

An old childhood friend’s having a get-together. Your mother insists you go—this is the perfect opportunity for you to network and possibly find a future husband. Despite your protests, she pressures you, and you begrudgingly agree.

You stick out like a sore thumb, donned in expensive fabrics at the party. Years of being an assassin and seductress have given you the gift of gab, so you’re the life of the party. Eventually, people start inquiring about your love life. Their questions become so invasive you step out momentarily to gather yourself. Just because you’re good at flapping your gums doesn’t mean you don’t occasionally become overwhelmed.

You decide to text Sylus to help ease your anxiety. You text each other quite often, and someone peering at your relationship from the outside would assume you’re just close friends.

[ Sylus ]: that bad?

[ You ]: yeah. they won’t stop asking when i’ll get married.

[ You ]: it’s really pissing me off.

[ Sylus ]: lol

[ Sylus ]: well why dont you leave?

[ You ]: because i know i’ll never hear the end of it.

[ Sylus ]: hmm.

[ Sylus ]: would you like some company then?

[ You ]: 😏😏😏 what are you gonna teleport here or something?

[ Sylus ]: look up.

On cue, you glance skyward as the telltale shadow of a crow circles the ground around you. You squint your eyes against the sun’s brilliance, making out distinct iridescent feathers circling above. “Mephisto?” you suspiciously inquire.

You look down, only to be met with a familiar swatch of scarlet and white. “Sylus?!” you shriek, jumping back and clutching your pounding heart, almost having shit yourself.

He wears that customary smirk, looking so cool with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He wears a tailored, dark suit, his blazer hanging off his shoulders, ruffled by the summery breeze. “In the flesh.”

You swallow against the stickiness of your throat, wide-eyed and feeling like you’re dreaming. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Sylus examines his nails, his tone conspiratorial. “Well, I was just passing through—”

“Like hell you were!” You aim an accusatory finger at him. “We’re, like, 1,700 miles from the N109! There’s no way you’re just ‘passing through’!”

He shrugs, feigning innocence.

A few of your high schoolmates, summoned by the commotion, gather in the courtyard behind you. The crowd oohs and ahs, whispering as they study your tall, devastatingly handsome boss. One of the women asks who he is, admiration evident in his voice. You know that tone too well: if you don’t claim him, I will.

You swallow your resolve, seizing the opportunity to shut everyone up.

You sidle up to your boss with a fake smile, encircling one of his arms with both of yours, your hands wrapped around his impressive bicep. You cling to him, playing up the theatrics of a docile lover. It makes you sick.

Sylus smiles down at you in your peripheral, the omniscient lift of his brow letting you know that he’s never going to let you live down what next comes from your mouth.

“This is my fiancé!” You pat his chest with a giggle pinched from your lungs, cold dread dropping into your belly.

What the hell are you even doing?

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #just musing #because i waste my days watching c and k-dramas #good ol' pretending to be together only to end up being together trope

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e-vay · 6 months ago

Note

See, with this newly revealed information for Sage and Aurora's friendship, love it btw, how did Shadow and Aurora's first date go? Who asked who? Where did they go?

I'm so happy to hear you're a fan of the Luminescent Ladies! 🤩 The first date was very casual, but a hit! Shadow is the one who asks Aurora out and they go to a café and end up spending hours together.

Since I've never fully written out the full Shadora story, bits and pieces of it exist here on my blog but sometimes the details change. But here's a very rough version of how I envision their first date going:

(If you're familiar with my story, you can skip the text in blue)

Shadow has spent the last several decades taking odd merc jobs in deep space in the hopes that he'll run into the woman he fell for years ago, but he never finds her. Rouge eventually convinces him to head back "home," and since he's never failed a goal before he decides he has to replace it with a new one: Get to know and enjoy the planet Maria always wanted to visit. So he heads back and that's where he meets Aurora (she does not know him yet, as she meets him later in her life via time travel). He's pretty certain Aurora is the woman who saved him years ago, but since she doesn't seem to know him he thinks maybe she's been reincarnated or something, he isn't sure. He wants to know her better and find out.

Since Shadow's new goal is to better acquaint himself with the planet he abandoned decades ago and since Aurora knows her hometown like the back of her hand, the two decide that she will be his guide (his 'guiding light' if you will 😉 ) around town. (Shadow doesn't need one. He's the ultimate life form; he's plenty fine exploring on his own. But he considers this an opportunity to do some recon to get to know her better). It mostly starts fairly professional even though Aurora does flirt with him a lot (she can't help it, just look at him!) but Shadow quickly becomes fond of her, and he decides he wants to pursue her romantically.

As they are going to bid each other goodbye after one of their tours, Shadow asks "You have a recommendation for every kind of activity in this town, correct?"

A: "Yeah! What is it you're looking for next?"

Sh: "Something... romantic, but humble. Where one might go for a first date."

And at first Aurora is internally thinking "Dang, so he is interested in somebody." But she dismisses that thought because it's none of her business who Shadow spends his time with.

She's gotten to know him a bit by now so as she's pondering ideas she's taking into consideration that he doesn't like loud, busy scenes and would likely enjoy somewhere more intimate, and she remembers him mentioning that he likes coffee. So she suggests this quaint little café that's on the edge of town.

He says "Very well" and surprises her by taking her hand and asking "Would you accompany me there tomorrow afternoon?"

She's shocked but enthusiastically agrees. He offers to "pick her up" at her house so they can go together, but since even as an adult Aurora still lives at home with her parents, she knows that if Sonic answers the door he will be very wary and likely follow them to see what's going on. She doesn't want the date to go awry before it's even happened lol So she convinces Shadow that she'll just meet him at the café.

Aurora is VERY nervous as she has basically no experience dating. She's only had a "boyfriend" once when she was a very little kid and that was really more of just a crush when she was too young to be dating anyway. She also has no idea why Shadow would be interested in her because she thinks she's pretty boring compared to him. (She even briefly thinks "Oh no, what if this is a prank!?")

But upon meeting him at the café he makes it very clear this is a date, bringing her flowers and being a real gentleman by getting her chair for her and all that jazz. Initially she is super self-conscious but Shadow quickly makes her feel really giddy (Ex: SH: "Wow, you look-" A: "Too bright?! I can tone it down! I just have to bend the light to make my clothes darker-" SH: "I was going to say 'lovely'. Please, don't dull your light for me." A: *Can't help but glow more*)

She very quickly gets swept off her feet haha.

They end up losing track of time and even continue to hang out on the outdoor patio after the place has closed and enjoy the sunset together. Before he gets the chance, Aurora over-enthusiastically asks if Shadow would like to have a second date with her and he warmly says yes.

-----

For the record, I'm always open to y'all's ideas of how Shadow and Aurora's first date would go down. If you want to write your own version of their date and it's completely different, I'd still love to read it :)

#my art #ask me #evayQA #shadora #shadowxaurora #shadowxaurora?#aurora the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #canon x oc #my au #sonic trash

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safination · 7 months ago

Text

The Wrong Competitor

|Masterlist| Ao3| NOW WITH A PART 2: |The Actual Competitor| Pairings: Alastor x wife!Reader. Platonic! Vox & Reader Tags: fem!Reader, AFAB, Established Relationship, , Alastor is in hell for a reason, Reader is in hell for a reason, being a simp for your partner, husband! Alastor. demon! Alastor, drinking,flirting

Vox approaches with a steady and confident smile. There are two drinks secured around one hand. The other reaches out for a handshake. Alastor takes a step forward, using his body as a barrier. “Just a friendly one,” Vox says, a charming smile on his screen. “It would be a shame to ruin the Princess’ evening. The music is lively and the food and drinks are delicious.” Alastor’s eyes twitch from underneath the mask as he sees you reaching out. Well, that won’t do. He takes the handshake intended for you, shaking Vox’s hand with a firmer grip than needed. You’re determined to enjoy yourself and Alastor prides himself on being a husband. So, he won’t cause a scene—not today at least. The handshakes last longer than handshakes should last. Vox slides his eyes towards you, a smug smile displayed on the screen of his lips. You tighten your hold around Alastor’s arm, leaning to his bicep to hide your scowl. TLDR: The Hazbin Hotel decides to hold a masquerade party. Despite his better judgment, Alastor invites his wife even if he’s aware of Vox’s attendance, who’s keen on competing with Alastor for his wife’s attention….If only Alastor knew how much you and Vox would gag at the idea of him flirting with you. It’s not his wife’s attention that Vox competes for. It’s not even Alastor who he’s competing with. Actually… Alastor isn’t part of the competition.

Have a little brainrot of mine. Lol just pure on crack of the silliest shit. Tell me what you guys think because I found this so fucking hilarious that I had to write it down. Anyway, have my heavily unedited brain rot. I tried a different writing voice today instead of my usual third person-second person pronoun pov, and tried like an all around pov. Update: *6/19/2024 We lost electricity at home so instead of studying, I decided to polish my un-polished crack. Everything's the same, it's just written better and I didn't add much.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor slithers out of the shadows below, stepping out from the darkness that pools underneath you. There are hundreds of shadows to pop out of, still it’s your shadow that Alastor chooses to spring out from. There’s a smile painting his lips as he materializes. A deer mask covers half his face.

“Goodness,” you say, mirroring his smile. “What am I supposed to do when strange yet handsome Sinners pop out of my shadow without a warning.”

Alastor steps further into the light. “Handsome?”

And oh…oh.

(Oh, indeed. Alastor is wearing a tail-coat, a vest hidden underneath. Oh god he’s wearing a vest. One side of his hair slick back, allowing stray strands to flutter around the deer mask. When you run your hand across his biceps…you feel it underneath your touch—Sleeves garters.)

The smile on your lips widens, and you’re thankful that a mask covers your own face. “I’d call you handsome any day, sweetheart,” you tell him. “If it’s alright with your wife, of course. Such a charming little thing like you surely belongs to someone.”

“I think I like you better than my wife.” Alastor inches closer to press a kiss. “She never compliments me as much as you do.”

A delighted humm escapes you. “Then she’s quite the fool, for you are quite the charmer.”

Alastor shakes his head, a small laugh escaping as he smoothens some feathers that stick out your head. “You didn’t have to join me tonight,” he says. “I’ll be too busy with work to be next to you.”

“Then you should have thought about that before you gave me an invitation to Charlie’s party.” You reach out to smoothen the lines of his tail-coat, pulling on it to adjust its fit around his body. “And I’m already here, wearing a very, very, expensive dress.”

“Do you even enjoy such parties?” Alastor grabs your wrists before your hands can trail any further. “It seems your mind would rather be somewhere else.”

“There’s food and music, and I get the excuse to wear such a lovely dress.” You pull your wrist from his hold, catching his hand to intertwining your fingers with his. “Do you like it? I hope you do, considering I received it along with the invitation.”

Alastor lifts his arm, twirling you underneath to flare the skirt of the dress. “You look almost as dashing as I do.”

“Ha! And that’s precisely why I must join you, deerest.” You smack his bicep in good fun, barking out a laugh. Dear god, he’s wearing the leather sleeve garter tonight.) “With such dashing good looks, I’l fear others may try to take your attention.”

He flicks your nose. “Stop it.”

Alastor slips off the deer mask, gazing straight into you. Those eyes of his shine brighter than the stars above this Hell. He reaches out, and pulls on the ribbon that secures your own mask to your face.

There are feathers on your mask. It mimics the bird you are. Alastor inches closer, staring straight into you once there’s nothing to obstruct his view.

“That’s mine,” you say, trying to grab your mask.

Alastor shoves the deer mask on your face. The force causes you to stumble back a little. He’s such a nuisance, honestly…but …but well, his fingers brush over your feathers as he ties the ribbon on his mask.

Strands of your feathers flow between his fingers as it lingers. Alastor presses the feathers to his mouth, brushing them with his lips. “I think our masks are a bit too on the nose,” he says, and each word caresses your feathers. “Deer masks suit you much better, and this way, I can spot you from even across the room.”

Alastor inches lower until you meet his eyes. You take the bird mask and tie the ribbon around his head, securing it on him.

There’s a feather that sticks out your head. Alastor picks it out. The stray feather gets waved around until he tucks it within the mask.

You reach out to remove the feather, but Alastor catches your wrist and presses a single kiss on the inside.

“The color of my feathers are different from the ones on the mask,” you tell him. “Come on, take it out. It sticks out a bit too much.”

“I’ll have you know that I quite like the feathers.” Alastor plays with the feather on his mask. “More importantly—tell me about your day. I want to know every second of every minute…it’s been a while since I’ve heard from you.”

“You would know all about my day if you were living at our home with me,” you tell him, crossing your arms. “You know, the home that we’ve built together for the past few decades?”

Alastor plays with the edges of your pinky before intertwining his fingers around your hand. “Or…” he begins, and presses a single kiss on the wedding ring around your finger. “I would known if you lived at the hotel…with me.”

There’s a smug smile on you. “Are you asking me to live with you?”

“Would you?”

“I would.”

“I’m still rather hesitant to involve you with the hotel…yet I found myself sending an invitation anyway.” Alastor presses a kiss on the edge of your lips, letting himself linger.

“An invitation?”you say, faking a gasp. “That’s weird because I swore the invitation came with a dress as well. Hmmm, now I’m wondering who sent such a piece to me.”

“I found myself sending an invitation…and a dress.” Alastor rolls his eyes. “But the point still stands, it’s safer if you are at our home. It’s quiet and secure and doesn’t have a giant sign pointing straight at its door.”

“Ah yes…that,” you say. “I heard about it on the televisi—newspaper. It must be tiring to be attacked thrice in one day.”

Alastor shakes his head, pulling you into a tight hug. One hand presses on the back of your head, cradling you gently. “Just before I lose you to my job.”

You steal a kiss from him. “As if you could ever lose me.”

Music beats through the cracks of the Hazbin Hotel’s door. Alastor escorts you inside, a bird mask on his face as he runs his thumb up and down the skin of your hand. You adjust the deer mask on your face before following him deeper inside.

The door opens easily, and you walk inside, arm in arm with the Radio Demon. The fun about masquerade balls is being able to hide behind a mask.

Except from those who really pay attention.

Vox approaches with a steady and confident smile. Two drinks are secured around one hand. The second reaches out for a handshake.

Alastor takes a step forward, using his body as a barrier.

“Just a friendly one,” Vox says, a charming smile on his screen. “It would be a shake to ruin the Princess’ evening. The music is lively, and the food and drinks are delicious.”

Alastor’s eyes twitch from underneath the mask when he sees you reaching out to shake Vox’s hand.

Well, that just won’t do! Alastor takes the handshake intended for you, grabbing Vox’s hand before you can reach it, and shakes his hand with a firmer grip than needed.

You’re determined to enjoy yourself, and Alastor prides himself for being a Husband. (Rosie tells him that there’s a difference between ‘a husband’ and ‘a Husband’ with one clearly better than the other.) So, Alastor won’t cause a scene—not today at least.

Vox slides his eyes towards you, a smug smile displayed on the screen of his lips as he shakes Alastor’s hand. It forces you to tighten your hold around Alastor’s arm, leaning into his bicep to hide a scowl.

The handshake lasts longer than handshakes should last.

Vox offers you a glass. “I brought drinks to start,” he says, keeping the second glass around his hold closer to him. “I hope I’m remembering this correctly—but you still enjoy lemony flavors, correct?”

“How delightful!” Alastor tries to take the drink intended for you.

Vox quickly retracts the drink, taking a single step backwards. “It’s for the lady.”

Alastor’s smile widens ever so slightly into a snarl.

You take the drink from Vox, smiling as lemony goodness fills your senses. Not many bartenders keep such flavors. Part of you wonders if Alastor organized the bar to keep your favorite drink in stock.

One hand trails up Alastor’s back as static emits from his skin. It snakes around until it hooks behind his neck to pull him into a kiss. It’s just a quick peck of the lips, but Alastor places a hand around your waist to pull you closer. Such things are reserved in the confines of privacy, but it seems he doesn’t mind tonight.

There’s an imprint of your lipstick on his skin. It’s something you don’t bother mentioning to him

“Just before I lose you to the crowd,” you say. “I’m sure you can’t leave your post for so long, and I’ve already kept you for far too long. Don’t worry about me—I won’t be too far from your gaze.”

Alastor presses one last kiss on your cheek before walking away.

With a scowl on his screen, Vox turns the other direction.

You trail behind him, smiling at the second untouched drink around his hand. It seems he’s also wearing a tail-coat tonight, but it doesn’t suit him as handsomely as it does for your husband.

“So, it seems you're here,” Vox tells you, that proud Overlord puff on his chest as he walks around the room. “And here I was wondering why the life in the room suddenly became dull.”

“Funny,” you say, matching his steps. “It seems you’re still pining for my husband—Will you ever give up on him?”

“Ah yes…the same husband who disappeared on your for seven years,” he says, casually swirling the second drink in his hand. “He left you once, he can leave you again.”

You take a sip of your drink, letting the taste of lemon slide down your throat even as your eye twitches from underneath the deer mask. “It’s quite hilarious to know you still remember how my husband hates lemon undertones in his drink.”

“Well, I didn’t want him choking on such unrefined tastes.”

“Is this meant for Alastor?” You grab the second glass from his hand, bringing it closer to your nose. “Whiskey. Ah… it was meant for him. What—were you too scared to give it to him?”

Vox barks out a laugh, crossing his arm. “It’s for me, actually.”

“Then drink it.”

“It’s been compromised by your stench.” Vox takes the glass and tosses it away.

From across the room, Alastor swirls his whiskey and allows his eyes to wander across the crowd. In a room full of Sinners, he can never be too careful especially when you’re involved. It’s then that his eyes catch Vox inching closer to you, and it’s then that his grip on the glass tightens.

Charlie smiles at Alastor as he doesn’t seem to be listening to her. That’s alright—it’s quite loud and drinks often tend to loosen him up. Alastor’s looking at her, but his body faces the crowd as he leans on one of the tables. It’s almost as if he’s looking out.

It’s been the same pattern for almost fifteen-minutes ever since Alastor came back with a bird mask instead of his own deer mask. Charlie would say something, and he would nod. From time to time, Alastor would glance out into the crowd in the same direction his body is facing.

“So, I had an idea to get more sponsors,” Charlie tells him, tapping the glass for her soda. “We can do a whole music number with flowers and dancing and singing, and I just thought you could be our main lead! The genre would be rap music.”

Alastor’s eyes slid to the crowd once more. “What a spectacular idea!”

Charlie follows his gaze until they land on you. Well, that certainly solved the mystery of where his deer mask went and where the bird one came from. One of the feathers on Alstor’s mask matches yours perfectly.

“Do you think we can get more TVs for the hotel?” she asks. “And I don’t mean the old ones, but the flat-screens that are about fifty-inches.”

You glance over at Alastor and Charlie when you notice their looks, and offer a small smile and a wave.

Alastor smiles back, giving you a wave as well. “Perhaps.”

“How about some digital cameras?” she says. “All of us could take a happy family portrait.”

“Of course.”

Wait-staff carry trays of different types of appetizers. Vox snatches a couple tiny platters, offering some to you. The first bite causes you to hum with delight. It’s quite delicious…but quite small. Vox offers another tiny plate to you, and it’s grabbed enthusiastically.

It’s great that Vox took more than one.

He bites into the cracker with some kind of seafood on them, humming at the taste. “You’ve aged.”

“Yes, it seems I have.” You laugh at him, shaking your head as you take another sip of your drink. “I’m quite lucky that I’m in the company of my husband to grow old with. It’s quite the treat to be able to live day to day with Alastor.”

Vox offers you a bite of the cracker.

You take it, nodding and humming with delight at the taste. “Oh, that’s quite good—here, taste this one.”

At the sight of your laughter, Alastor’s drink shatters into tiny pieces of broken glass. It shatters to the floor.

Charlies raises an eyebrow at him. It only takes a snap of her fingers for magic to work its wonders and clean the broken glass and replace his drink.

“Apologies,” Alastor says, smile widening just a fraction. It doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “I forgot my own strength.”

Once more, Charlie follows Alastor’s gaze until it lands on you, and once more, the glass in his hand shatters when he sees Vox inching closer to offer you some appetizers and then your laughter.

Charlie snaps her fingers and a new drink appears in his hold. “I’m going to run out of glasses eventually.”

Alastor takes a turn around the ballroom after Charlie kicks him away from the corner. It’s all he can do to call his growing ire to keep the guests happy. Afterall, it’s him who controls his emotions and not the other way around. There’s also the matter of his job.

A Sinner blocks his patch, a doll-like smile on her face. “Do you happen to be the Radio Demon?”

“In the flesh!” Alastor’s smile widens to show off the yellow in his teeth, giving a little bow.

“I wasn’t sure with the mask,” she says, motioning towards it. “My friends said they spotted you earlier with a deer mask, but it seems you’ve changed it. I quite like the feathers .... Although, the one that’s different kind of sticks out.”

A muscle in his cheek tightens. “I’m quite fond of that feather,” he says. “It means quite a lot to me, and I don’t take kindly to those who insult what is precious to me.”

“Oh…of course,” she says. “It suits you quite well.”

She points a finger towards his bowtie. It seems it’s a bit crooked. There’s a smile on her face as she reaches out her sully hands to fix it.

Alastor takes a single step back, making it a point to show it off to her that he’s doing so.

The doll-like smile on her face wobbles a little. That’s fine. Alastor always hated dolls. “Oh…um…,” she says, scrambling to recover. “There’s a stain on your lips.”

His ears flicker for a moment, but he runs his thumb across his mouth. Red stains his gloves. It’s the color of your lipstick. “It seems I do.”

“Been drinking too much wine tonight?” She offers him a handkerchief.

“No need.” Alastor takes out his own handkerchief. It has his initials carefully embroidered on them. He goes to wipe your stain on his lips, but decides against it. “The wine they serve here is quite bland, but luckily there’s something much sweeter on the palate.”

Her smile fades into a frown when she notices the embroidery on the edges of his handkerchief.

Alastor continues to stand with a smile as she tries her best to compliment him in the smallest of ways. It’s quite nice to hear such compliments that inflate his ego.

Although… It's a bit weird.

The thrill of sudden recognition doesn’t hit as high as before. It’s just stagnant now. Praise doesn’t thrill him like they should.

Alastor allows his mind to wander, and his ego inflated to the highest degree when he imagines you standing before him instead, saying the things this random Sinner tells him. (He should figure out a way to get you to compliment him more.)

Plates of food and dozens of empty glass litter the bar table. It’s the aftermath of downing unlimited alcohol and enjoying some appetizers as insults are hurled that not even a merciful god can forgive.

Vox takes a bite of the olive and flicks the toothpick that came with his drink. It lands between your feathers.

A curse escapes your mouth as you try to dig it out. “Why are you even here?”

“It’s a party.” Vox hands you another drink. “I like the music, the drinks are unlimited, and this is quite fun.”

The drink gets downed in one gulp, and you flick the toothpick at a passing Sinner’s hair. It lands between the strands of his hair. “That’s one more point for me,” you say, pumping your fist. “Come on, TV boy—give me my point.”

Vox’s head flashes. It goes from his face to a screen with both your names on it. The number below your name increases on point before his face returns once more.

You shimmy a little dance as your point increases.

Vox makes a face, cringing at your dance. “You’re such a fucking loser.”

“Ha! His loser,” you say, sticking out your tongue.

“You’re still five points down,” he tells you, scowling as he grabs a passing drink from a waiter. “Why suggest this game if you’re not even good at it.”

You shrug, grumbling a little. “I always win against Alastor.”

“Are we not going to get in trouble?” Vox swirls the drink in his hand. “This is still a royal’s party.”

“Aren’t you an Overlord?” you say, taking another bite of a cracker. “Act like it. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s going to call you out.”

The music catches your attention, and it pulls your focus to the dance floor. Oh…Alastor’s dancing. His broad back puffs out as he moves across the floor with purpose and grace. There’s a charming smile on his face as he dances along the beat of the music.

That looks fun.

It would certainly be a shame to waste such a beautiful dress by blending in with the decorations on the walls.

You turn to Vox. “Care to dance?”

Vox takes another toothpick, flicking it. It missed the Sinner’s hair. He curses while you pump your fist. “With you?” he says, making a face “Ew—no, that’s disgusting.”

“Alastor’s dancing right now,” you say. “It looks fun.”

Vox raises an eyebrow and glaces to the dance floor. A snarl appears on his lips when he notices that smug smile on the woman dancing with Alastor. “A new challenger?”

You tilt your head, and feathers slide across your face as you observe Alastor dancing. Oh, Vox’s right. There’s a woman with him right now. “Oooooh, who’s that? She’s quite the belle—smash.”

Vox turns to you, making a face. It’s quite funny to see. “Do you even know what that mean—”

“I know what I said.”

His screen shifts and paragraphs of information appear on his face. “Oh…she’s one of the daughters of the Ars Goetia.” The scowl on his face deepens as he continues watching, and he offers an arm towards you. “Come on—let’s dance. Game on, bitch.”

“Just ignore her,” you tell him. “She’s no threat to me, and I allow you to flirt with Alastor all the time.”

“That’s because I play fair,” Vox says, rolling his eyes. “We have our rules, and it creates order. This bitch doesn’t know that…and hasn’t someone ever told her—three’s a crowd.”

Once more, you turn to the dance floor. Alastor’s graceful movements catch your eyes and a delighted hum escapes your lips. His body dances with control and power. There’s awe in the woman’s face as Alastor dances with her.

That’s alright—she’s only doing her due diligence.

Only a blind fool wouldn’t appreciate how Alastor’s hair sways with each side-step, or how his tail-coat fits handsomely across his back, or how charming his smile paints across his lips, or how the dress-pants he wears compliments how long his legs are.

Vox may be a fool but at least he isn’t blind.

“Holy fuck! Woman—get it together!” Vox points towards the dance floor, to the Sinner dancing with Alastor.

There’s a triumph in her smile. She dances with Alastor as if she won.

Vox watches your expression carefully, chuckling as a cold look steels your face despite the gentle smile. Oh, it is so on.

“Well, this just won’t do. If there’s one thing I hate—it’s those who don’t know their place,” you say, snaking your arm around Vox with a smile. “Game on, bitch.”

Vox escorts you towards the middle of the dance floor, that proud Overlord puff back on his chest. It’s quite easy to match his movements when he always was quite the talented dancer.

“Hey…,” you say, eyes twitching. “What are you doing?”

Vox’ hands hover above your skin, refusing to make contact. “I’m afraid that if I touch you, my life would turn to ruin like everything else that has had the misfortune of meeting you,” he tells you, a triumphant smile on his lips. “And you’re doing the exact same thing!”

“That’s because I’m married. It would be improper of me to be touching such a slimy Sinner.” You slam the point of your heel right on his shoe. “My apologies…it would be much easier to dance if you’re actually holding me.”

Vox steps on your toes, and you snarl at him. “You first, witch.”

“As you say whenever Velvette tells you to take a bath—no thanks.”

“The I guess you say the same thing about shampoo—”

“May I interrupt?” There’s a wide smile on Alastor’s lips that show off the yellow in his teeth. He stands in the middle of the ballroom, not caring as others give him weird looks for blocking the path. Alastor stands proud as his hand offers itself to you.

Across the dance floor, there’s an irritated look on the woman’s face when Alastor abandoned her mid-dance. There’s a smile on your lips as you show her what real triumph looks like.

Vox smiles at him, and hands you towards your husband. “Of course.”

He takes your hand, playing with the tips of your fingers before intertwining them. A hand snakes around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. The music flows slowly across the room. It’s sweet melodies forcing you to lean your head on his chest.

Alastor squeezes your hand.

You squeeze back.

His legs slide between your as Alastor dips you low, a hand on the small of your back to support your waist. He takes the lead in this waltz, spinning and twirling your around while pressing himself as close as possible to you.

The side of his cheek, nuzzles into the crown of your feathers as you’re swayed around the ballroom.

“I’ve found myself in a bit of a corner,” you say, snaking your hand up and down his back as if to pet it. “I owe Vox two dances. You interrupted the first, but there’s still the matter of the second one.”

Alastor’s hand tightens around you, and shadows flare around the room. It causes dancing couples to instinctively take a step away. “Did he force you into a deal?”

“Not at all,” you say, nuzzling into his hold. “I lost a bet, that’s all. You know me, I get rather competitive, and got a little bored a while ago after getting my fill of food and drinks.”

“I’ll take your place so just stay far away from him.” Alastor’s smile turns into a snarl. “Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again after this.”

You go on the tip of your toes to press a kiss. “Thank you.”

Alastor twirls you underneath his arm. “I never got to ask…,” he begins. “How do you like my outfit?”

“It suits you very well, my love,” you tell him. “In fact, I have to say that you are the most handsomest of handsome, and those pants really do you some justice.”

Alastor flicks your nose. “Stop it.”

“Should I really?”

“No…,” he says, leaning into your ear. “I want to hear more.”

The dance ends eventually, and Alastor behind you with one hand on your shoulders and the other holding you to escort you like a gentleman.

Vox greets you with a wave, another drink around his hand.

You step out of Alastor’s hold and press a hand on Vox’ shoulder to whisper into his ear. “As you dance with my husband, I want you to know that he’s taking your hand only because I allow it,” you tell him with a smile. “I want you to know that it’s only possible because of the permission I grant you.”

Vox snorts and offers a hand out for Alastor. “Understood.”

The musicians play their instruments and music once again fills the dancefloor. Sinners stay paces away as Vox and Alastor dance, especially given the threatening expression on Alastor’s face. It’s funny how Vox doesn’t seem to mind Alastor’s darkened gaze. The irritated look on your husband's face makes you a bit guilty. Oh well, you’ll make it up to him later.

The dance ends, and both Vox and Alastor go their separate ways once more. There’s a twinkle in Vox’s eyes as he gives you a small nod of farewell. It has you shaking your head.

Alastor wipes his hands before taking your hand once more. “Let’s go.”

“Already?” you say, frowning. “We’ve only had one dance so far.”

“We can dance to your heart's content, my love…just not here,” Alastor says, fixing the straps of your dress. His hands ghost around the zipper, and it lingers there for more than a moment. “Apparently, I’ve maxed out my working days. Charlie told me it was in my contract and I have to spend them before I can go back to work at the hotel. She practically kicked me out. So, I have the next few days off.”

“That’s good.”

“Shall we go?” Alastor brings your hand closer, pressing a kiss on the ring around your finger. “Home—our home.”

“Really?” you say. “You’re going to go home with me?”

“For the next two weeks.”

Alastor watches your smile brighten as your eyes crinkle. It’s the most precious thing in this ballroom, and its radiance can light up the whole room. You spring up to hug him, squealing as you wrap your arms around his neck. The force of your hug causes him to take a couple steps back to keep from falling over. Alastor places a hand on the small of your back to steady you.

His bowtie is crooked.

You point towards it,and reach out a hand to straighten the fabric. Alastor takes a single step forward, leaning down to allow more access. The pads of your thumb smoothen his crooked bowtie.

Vox catches your eyes and he toasts a drink in your direction.

You remove the wedding ring around your finger, slipping it over your middle finger instead. The ring and the finger are presented to Vox as you leave with Alastor’s arm around your waist.

Game on, bitch.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor whenever someone flirts with you : hiss hiss, get away from my wife. Reader whenever someone flirts with Alastor: Fucking understandable. Finally, someone with good fucking taste. This is so funny and silly. Vox and Reader are so sibling-coded that it wonderful. I love fan-fiction. I love how unserious it can be

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