#you're all sinners and i hate you

[yanderedrabbles]

THE SINNERS WELCOME YOU TW: noncon and yanderes ahead

Hi! I'm val and this is where you can find everything I've written. Maybe bring protection? These boys are not nice.

Requests: closed for now

Current Anons: 🍪, 🐰, ♥️, 🐧, 🧷, 📌, 📮, ⚙ 🤖, 🍯, 🦚, 💵, ⭐, 💗, 🌙

What I won't write about: pregnancy

Art & Doodles

Yandere Witch: She adores anything cute and turns you into a plushy just to cuddle.

You on a shelf You getting cuddles

Yandere Fairytales

Dark and sinful, these stories are from a time long ago. When the gods still walked the earth and when monsters wore the skin of men and when a bride could still be built out of wishes and blood.

In a time and place far, far away...

The North Wind fell in love

A sorcerer turned a witch wicked

Drabbles, Imagines & Oneshots

Not so honourable after all: Drabble about princes and heroes with rotten hearts.

Yandere Actor: The Golden Age of Hollywood. Stars are born every day and you're desperate to become one.

Yandere Yakuza: When your brother gets himself deep into debt, one yakuza is surprisingly willing to help you get him out.

Yandere Bisexual Best Friend: He just wants what's best for you. If he has to tell a few white lies now and again, then so be it.

Come for me: Drabble about yanderes who force pleasure on you for their own sick enjoyment.

Yandere Pirate Captain [dubcon] A naive aristocrat's daughter, you're crossing the Atlantic in a heavily guarded ship. Pirates assume guns and guards mean treasure but when all they find is you, they decide to make the best of their luck.

Yandere Werewolf: There's something terrorising your town every full moon. And a stroke of bad luck has you running into it more than once.

Yandere Sugar Daddy: Money can't buy love, but maybe it doesn't have to.

Yandere Cyberpunk Mercenary: A ruthless mercenary and you, his spoilt little prize.

Letters from a Yandere Vampire: A handsome stranger seems intent on courting you but his letters hide a darker secret.

The worst sort: Drabble about the most sleazy and perverted type of yandere.

Cheat on me please: Your boyfriend just won't let you break up.

Lovesick Dogs: Drabble about poor fools who love like wretched dogs.

Yandere Mobster: Chicago - 1931 The Height of Prohibition The mafia is earning top dollar smuggling alcohol into the country. And one mobster has his eye on you.

You wouldn't reject him, would you?

Yandere Gladiator: A man can become a god in the arena. But all he fights for is you.

Yandere Cyberpunk Riot Control Officer [noncon] There's nothing he hates more than degenerates and rioters. When he gets his hands on, he's going to pound some law and order into you.

Cyberpunk Yanderes: A little drabble about neon soaked streets and criminals with their eye on you.

Cyberpunk Yanderes with an oblivious country Darling

Yandere Greek Champion x Priestess Reader [noncon] He was chosen by the Gods to slaughter, to strike down all who stand against him. Your city has fallen at last and he has come to claim his prize.

Exploring his villa Finding you asleep

Yandere Stalker/Cop: A vicious stalker has been terrorising you for months. Luckily, your friendly neighbourhood cop is around to comfort you.

Yandere Apocalypse Survivor: The world you know is dead and gone. And he's the only reason you're still alive.

Yandere Soldier [noncon] He knows what he's doing is wrong, but if he closes his eyes, he can convince himself that your muffled cries are moans for him to keep going.

Yandere Soldier - Stockholm Syndrome: It was bound to happen eventually, right?

Softcore Yandere Boyfriend: A guy who has every yandere urge in the book and is trying very hard to be normal about it.

Yandere Boyfriend Surprise Party: How does your Yandere! Boyfriend react when you start acting distant and keeping secrets from him? Yandere Boyfriend as a husband: He might be jealous of the kids but shhh. Way of the yandere house husband: More things your hubby does for you. Yandere Boyfriend as a gym buddy: You're his favourite kind of cardio. Yandere Boyfriend x Coquette Reader: You can put bows on him if you ask nicely.

Yandere Cowboy [noncon] He just wants a roll in the hay. It doesn't matter if he has to hold you down to get it.

Yandere Cowboy - Proposal: Does he ever learn to be sweet with you? Yandere Cowboy - Jealousy: You're his girl and he ain't gonna stand around and let some other bastard steal you away. Picking wild flowers with him If you try running away before your wedding

Yandere Cop [noncon] All you want is to get home after a midnight shift and relax. But a State Trooper pulling you over on an isolated stretch of road is more than you bargained for.

Yandere Cop - Baby Trapped: You're stuck in a position where you just can't say no anymore.

Yandere Ganster x Mafia Boss Reader: He's your loyal dog. Now and always.

Yandere Ganster - Jealousy: For the first time, he sees you be physical with another man. And he's trying his hardest not to punch the bastard right in the mouth. Yandere Ganster - Rainy Days: After a difficult job, he comes back soaked and shivering. Naturally, you think of a few ways to warm him up.

Yandere Desert Bandit [dubcon] When planning to cross the desert, all travellers are warned about the bandits. Heartless, they're called. Brutal. Inhuman. So why has one of them fallen in love with you?

Yandere Desert Bandit - Aftermath: Son of the sand, his touch isn't gentle. But perhaps he can learn. Will he ever be a father? Would he honour his word?

Yandere Incubus x Nun Reader [noncon] A new priest had joined your convent and you can't help the sinful thoughts you have about him.

Yandere Academic Rival: He'll do whatever it takes to be the best.

The Yandere Boys

Who's your yandere soulmate? [Quiz - coming soon] Their favourite positions Their kinks What are their homes like? What do they look like? When you're sick/hurt yourself Which Yandere boy is the most manipulative? If you cheat on them Their body preferences If you refuse to eat If you try and leave them If you're bisexual Yandere Christmas Special What sort of cars do they drive? Who is the cruelest? Who is the kindest? What kind of clothing do they find provocative? Would they ever share you with someone else?

Misery - a short story [in progress]

Based on Misery by Stephen King

Stuck in the mountains, you foolishly decide to drive through a blizzard. The man that drags you from your wrecked car brings you to his cabin and patches you up. But as the snow piles up outside, you start to suspect that your rescuer's intentions may be far from pure.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Upcoming Works

Yandere Roommates [dubcon] With your boss mysteriously firing you and your job applications getting lost in the mail, it's no surprise that you can't afford rent this month. Lucky for you, your roommates have a very generous offer.

Yandere Wild West Sheriff: Ain't you just the sweetest lil thing?

Yandere Dictator:  He's a high ranking member of the ruling party, with all the wealth and power denied to the working class. And when he says he wants you, that's exactly what he gets.

Dairy of a Vampire:  You've found a strange book in your husband's library, and on closer inspection, realise every entry is all about you. [Sequel to Letters from a Yandere Vampire]

Yandere Aztec Warrior x Āhuiyani Reader:  His body is sworn to war and yours to pleasure. How strange, that you find comfort in each other.

Yandere Sugar Baby:  It's not uncommon for a wealthy, older woman to take a younger lover. But the way he looks at you isn't normal at all.

Yandere Witch Hunter x Witch Reader: In a last ditch effort to save yourself from execution, you cast a love spell on the town's witch hunter.

Yandere Aliens [noncon] Human women are the most prized slaves in the galaxy, and when your ship crashes on an unknown planet, it's inhabitants are keen to find out why.

Yandere Southern Gothic Cowboy: He doesn't come to church and you never see him out in the sun. Who exactly is this stranger?

Yandere Rockstar: He's a rockstar punk who wants to fight the whole damn world. But all his songs seem to be about one special person.

Yandere Dragon x Princess Reader: This fairytale isn't what you expect.

Yandere Slasher [noncon] With all your friends dead and no way to escape, you offer the killer something else in exchange for your life.

Yandere Ex-boyfriend [noncon] You wake up to a ship over five hundred million kilometres away from your home planet and an ex desperate to prove his love.

Yandere Pirate x Mermaid Reader: You've seen her time and time again, leaning against the stern and staring out at the horizon. She always seems so melancholic. Maybe a song will help?

Yandere Soulmate: So what if you don't always get along? So what if he leaves bruises on bad days? You're meant to be his and he's not letting you go.

Yandere Firefighter: You owe him your life. Aren't you going to repay that debt?

Yandere Stripper: Beautiful, confident, deadly. When she says she wants you, she won't take no for an answer.

Devil Dogs always bite: A green card marriage to a US Marine ends badly. [omegaverse]

[pearlymel]

Curiosity— Imbibitor Lunae

Synopsis: you're curious about his new form, and you can't keep your hands to yourself.

Wc: around 1.5k

Warning(s): nsfw but not really (?), grinding, making out, dan heng ruining his pants yeah... :P also gender neutral reader!!

Ugly, a monster, a sinner.

Those were the words that circled around Dan Heng's mind as he stared at his reflection on the mirror. His expression blank, and he almost cringes at how his new features clung onto him, a reminder of someone he never was, a reminder to other people who might recognise as someone who isn't him.

He stares at himself like the mirror is about to shatter right infront of him. Ever since he came back in his new form, you were in shock. He even thought you might hate him now, thus why he was hiding and locking himself for now from the others. Maybe you're better off without—

"Dan Heng!" You barge into his room, your tone almost urgent. But you both just stare at eachother, him being in utter shock like he was just caught doing something, and you.. just coming in without even knocking.

Manners.

"You—"

"Just let me," you step back to close the door again, and he tilts his head in confusion before he hears your knuckles knock on the door twice.

"it's me, may i come in?" You ask, your tone almost eager now and he can see how the doorknob was rotating ever so slightly, making his lips twitch upwards.

"you may." And then you immediately open the door, swinging it wide then closing it behind you when you enter.

"So—"

"I'm—"

You both speak at the same time, making you suppress a laugh. "You first," he nods, and you clear your throat.

You step closer to him, which makes him already on alert, but it makes you confused. Have you dont something he did not like?

"i just..." You look around, your hand reaching to rub the back of your neck in embarrassment. "... Missed you."

The confession makes the tips of his ear flush with the faintest colour of red, he sighs in relief before opening his arms for you. You take it as an invitation, almost jumping in his arms which sends him to stumble back a bit.

"My apologies," he whispered, resting his cheek on top of your head. "Were you trying to hide away?" You ask with that suspicious tone that makes him laugh quietly.

"I was afraid you wouldn't like my new... Self." His admission made you squint your eyes, lifting your head up to look at him. "New self? You're still Dan Heng." You shrug, taking everything as if it was a normal thing which left him dumbfounded.

"you know what I'm talking about."

"you mean your new little features?" You quirk an eyebrow, breaking the embrace to place your hands on your hips.

"Well about them, it's just..." The moment you eye him from head to toe, is the moment he thinks he lost it all.

That's it, he thinks. This is the part where you will find him different and unpleasant to the eye, where you will leave him like those drama's March watches on—

"I'm really curious to touch them."

His shoulders slump at your words, your simple request was making him contemplate everything again.

"what?" You ask when you see how dejected he looks, "No, it's nothing." He straightens his back again, his eyes unfocused when he tries talking to you again.

"so... You're just curious to touch my new features?" He asks, followed by a blink of his eyes. "Yes. Specifically your horns." You answer back with the brightest smile while your hands are clasped to your back.

"My horns..." He hums, looking up at his head, his fingers inching to feel them. When he looks back at you, you step closer again to him, ready to when he gives you the permission.

And just when you were raising your hands, a "no." Slips from his lips. His back turned to you and already walking away.

You feel like an arrow was just shot right through your heart at the rejection.

"Why nooot?" You pout, following right after him, your gaze shifting to the tail on his back that's swinging back and forth. It's all so... Enchanting on him.

"Just.. no," he mumbled in a low, embarrassed tone. He sits down on the red chair, keeping his back turned at you but you were quick to turn the chair around.

"i require an explanation, my dear dragon." You try to be firm when you lean closer, resting your hands on his sides right on the arms of the chair.

But he really can't take you seriously, so he just looks at you flatly. "They're sensitive." He simply answers with his arms crossed and eyes closed.

"that's it?" You ask with a sigh.

His eyes widen when he sees how close your face is to him now when he opens his eyes again, he can almost feel a nervous droplet of sweat dropping down his nape.

"..." He remains silent for a minute while you keep up that sad expression you always put up.

When he sighs, you look back at him with a hopeful gaze, "fine, you can touch my horns. But be gentle, okay?"

It's like the gods have responded to your wishes when he graces you with the opportunity to touch his new features that you've been itching to feel for some time now.

"I'll sit here," you point at his lap, but you don't wait for his answer before you're already slotted comfortably on his lap.

"You're shameless, aren't you?"

"Only for you." You murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek before taking both of your hands, wrapping them gently around his horns to feel it.

So smooth, you note. yet cold to the touch. Your thumb brushing over the smooth base of it curiously which makes Dan Heng's breath hitch, he couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine as your palms gently caressed the smooth, pebbled texture. He swallowed, trying to maintain his composure even as his skin tingled.

"Careful." he murmured, his voice a bit unsteady. "I am careful," A soft huff escaped his lips, his hands finding their place on your waist.

He looked up at you, silently hoping you would exercise some restraint as you continued your exploration.

"They feel really smooth, i like it." You giggle, your palms now firmly wrapping around them yet still careful not to hurt him. You try moving your hands from the base of his horns to the tip, almost like stroking them gently.

The first stroke almost felt nothing to him but shivers running down his spine that he quickly surpassed. But by the second and third stroke, he involuntary let out a soft moan with his fingers gripping your waist.

You both freeze. You from the shock of the noise he just made, and him from the embarrassment that he couldn't even control.

"Dan Heng—"

"okay that's enough." He quickly cuts you off, trying to carry you out of his lap but you stay still.

"don't be shyyyy." You coo teasingly at him, your hands now cupping his face together. "Please don't tease me." He tried muttering when you press his face together. "I won't. I promise, can i? Pretty please?" He knows what you're asking for, to touch him again, to tease him again. How did he even get here in the first place?

But Dan Heng's thoughts muddled as you captured his lips in a deep, messy kiss, and he couldn't help but let out a gasp. The combined stimulation of your touch on his horns and the feeling of your tongue against his sent shivers down his spine, his hands clenching on your waist even harder that he's afraid he might bruise your precious skin.

He groaned into the kiss, his chest heaving with the intensity of the sensations. He pulled you closer, his body automatically seeking more contact.

"Needy," you continue to tease him, his poor face and ears already so flushed, already gasping like he's out of air. And the hand that was sneaking to his tail only worsened the situation on his part.

His lips parted as he felt your fingers grip his tail, the firm appendage writhing gently in your grasp. The sensation of your touch sent a shudder down his spine, and he had to suppress a gasp of pleasure.

The texture of his tail was smooth, yet firmer than you had expected, the scales rippling under your touch. You're surprised when his tail wraps around your waist, his head falling back, baring his throat while he continued panting softly.

He seemed even more desperate than you were, his fingers clawing at your thighs as if asking for more.

"Deng Heng, sweetheart," the petname plus the feeling of your lips on his throat almost makes his eyes roll back.

"no, don't—" A low growl rumbled in his throat as you began grinding against him, the friction sparking a deeper wave of heat and desire. The moan that escaped your lips only heightened his own hunger, his hips automatically pushing up to meet yours.

He's panting even faster now, his hand grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into another messy kiss, your hands continuing to stimulate his horns by giving them long languid strokes, your hips meeting at a set and desperate pace, his tail tightening even more around your waist which elicits a whimper out of your throat.

The noise that leaves his lips against yours makes your face heat up, both of you slowing down, your half-lidded eyes clearing up to look down at his lap where you find an obvious wet spot.

"Did you just—"

"not a word." He mutters in complete embarrassment this time, hiding his face against your chest and you only chuckle while trying to comfort him.

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

My girlfriend requested this

Hazbin men trying the period simulator. Somewhat of a follow up to my period post so this is based on the reader having severe period pain due to PCOS/ENDO

Lucifer

The man is sweating before you even attach the simulator. He knows he fucked up. He only agreed to this because he loves you a lot.

He handles the first 3 levels ok. You tell him very few women experience that little pain and that usually 4-6 is the average.

Those levels make him tense. He's uncomfortable, but still pretty able to work and do normal things. 5 has him pausing to do deep breaths every now and then. (If this is the canon timeline where he birthed Charlie he compares it to bad kicks).

6-8 he's pretty much doubled over. If you tell him that's the level you experience, he will cry. Literally begs forgiveness since again, period and labor pain is technically his fault. He is so sorry. If he didn't have issues with his Dad before he does now because this is fucked up. God's fucked up for doing this.

He doesn't make it to 10, he's crying by level 9. This is labor levels of pain. He gets why all you do is sleep. Treats your period like a sacred ritual after that. Preps for weeks. He goes full Bible, sheltering you for the duration of it so you can have peace and quiet. Please never hook him up to this again.

If you wear it at anything from an 8-10 and tell him "It's close, but I've hurt worse" he's gonna sob and then try and fight his Old Man again. He'll settle for offering to have your bits removed for you.

Vox

Once again this man hates admitting he was wrong. And yeah he knows your periods are really bad, especially now he's witnessed it. But it's still a huge knowledge gap for him and he doesn’t really take the time to think about it.

He handles 1-5 well. He's mildly uncomfortable by 5, but thinks that if this is the average experience, then it's not such a big deal. Tell him the statistics on how many people with periods actually experience 6-8 because that's actually the majority, and he's just confused. How is the average pain level not the most common?

6-8 has him gritting his teeth and glitching, but he refuses to stop and keeps trying to work. Is starting to wonder how you went so long working with this level of pain without him noticing.

He makes it to 10, but by then, he's unable to move, clutching his abdomen and sparking and glitching. Tells you it feels like his entire insides are being squeezed. The fact that he can feel it in his groin. He's kind of afraid of period sex with you after that because of how much he felt it. And you said it's caused cramps from your ribs to your knees. He's like... genuinely scared of your period and pain tolerance.

He's going to snuggle the fuck out of you afterwards and apologize for not appreciating how much you still do for him when you're not feeling good. How he didn't see how hurt you were. He does a lot of research after that and not only does he spoil you by buying whatever you need for your periods and giving you time off, he looks into treatment options. Even if that means chopping the useless fucking things out. Sinners can't have kids anyway so who needs ovaries and a uterus?

He's more convinced you should just be rid of the damn things when you wear it and 8-10 is "Yeah, this is close, but it doesn't really cover how much of my body hurts".

Valentino

Is only doing this because he was dared to by Velvette. Or if this an au where he's trying to be a less toxic person. But really I think it's also to prove that you're all being dramatic. It's a perfectly normal body function and his employees are just trying to get out of work.

He gets all the way to 6 before he starts to realize he may have fucked up. Especially when it's explained that this is what most people experience.

By 10 he's gritting his teeth, chain smoking, clawing at things. He refuses to give in, but he can count on one hand the number of things in his entire life and death as a pimp and a whore that he's experienced that come close to this level of pain.

No one told him his dick was gonna hurt. Sitting hurts. Breathing hurts. He doesn't even try to eat. He won't ever admit to being wrong, but he does behave more leniently with his actors when they're on their periods.

If you put it on (and lets say he actually cares about you) and setting 8-10 is "Yeah, this an average day for my cramps. My bad days are like..5 or 6 levels worse" it's gonna rearrange his brain a little. He might be a little afraid of you and some of the other actors with periods because your pain tolerances are so high. It threatens his ability to control you and them. But on the other hand, that's kinda hot???

Alastor

Has never once doubted that people who experience periods undergo serious struggle and has nothing but respect for women (and trans people he just associates it with women more because of the time period and his mama) who work through it.

He is actually the one who heard about the simulator through Rosie and asks you to show him your experience. Just to better understand you. He knows you're the type to try and function through the pain (probably because society ingrained into you that your pain doesn't matter).

Initially, he wants to skip the lower levels and just have you set it to your pain level. You tell him that's a bad idea, and to be honest, you're not sure if this thing goes that high. He asks you to check and you set it to the highest setting and say, "It's pretty close. It's been worse, but this is a rough idea," he's a little frustrated but still tries it.

You agree to set it to 4 and tell him 4-6 is what most people report feeling. He acknowledges it, registers it as unpleasant, but otherwise is fully capable.

7-9 has his ears flat, his smile is more a snarl. This is uncomfortable. Not what he considers painful but certainly irritating. It makes sitting, stretching, and eating feel much more difficult.

10. There's static visble around him. His teeth grind. Actually painful. Not the worst pain he's experienced, but he hates it. He hates the way he feels it in his back and hips as he walks. He hates the way taking deep breaths (which for someone as dramatic as he is and with the transatlantic accent, breathing technique and posture is important) stings. He hates the way it causes his stomach to cramp and churn. He hates the ache in his thighs and groin that make sitting feel stiff and ackward. He can only picture how blood loss would make this worse. Tired, losing nutrients, the headaches, the increased moodiness. It's no wonder you sleep, so much, but he wonders how the Hell you sleep like this? He's snappy and short tempered because of the pain (and again he gets why you would be if you weren't sleeping so much).

How does this affect how he treats you?

Not much. He still expects you to know your body and your limits. He would never dare to presume otherwise. He still helps prepare whatever you need for your time of the month and still meal plans for you, though he perhaps finds ways to ensure you get all the iron and vitamins you need without cooking steak and other big, heavy meals, since he now understands how bad your stomach hurts.

The only really noticeable change is how much more protective of you he is. Your time of the month hits, and Alastor hates being more than a few moments from you. He growls, pins his ears, and his antlers grow when people get too close to you. He's more prone to letting you snuggle with him when you want, trying to comfort you.

Angel Dust

Another who volunteered. His girl besties insist he doesn't have to do this, he's got the pass. He still wants to do it though, for solidarity.

He also starts on 4 and handles it well. He handles all of the levels pretty well, even 10. By 7 it's obvious he's sore, maybe a bit more withdrawn, exhausted, trying not to move too much or eat too much. Just trying to find a comfortable way to exist. The sad problem is, Angel already has to do this after rough nights at Val's.

He's used to sitting being uncomfortable and aches in his groin and thighs, cramps in his stomach from muscles clenching constantly. 10 is the only level where he's visibly ill, hunched over, lower arms curled around his midsection protectively.

He and the girlies all curl up together and nap and chat and snack on easy to digest junk food and granola bars. He's the first one to say "I bet it's even worse for you gals, but I tried".

He gets it. He's one of the girls. Honestly, kind of becomes a favorite when the ladies have period problems. (If you're dating any of the others and Angel is openly your favorite after this it is gonna cause a lot of dramatic pouting, posturing, and tantrum throwing.)

Husk

I'm going full balls to the wall on Veteran Husk. This man has seen some shit and dealt with his fair share of pain. Like Angel he takes it the best, with very little outward reaction. He's used to stiffness and nausea. The pain in his crotch is a little off putting, but it could be worse.

He's more cautious how he moves, rests more, occasionally a cramp causes his ears to pin back or a small hiss. Overall he takes it like a champ.

Offers you endless amounts of supportive words for dealing with this as well as you do, for days on end. Also is deeply sorry you even have to put up with this shit. Offers all sorts of tips on how to do stretches that help with easing cramps and stiffness without pulling something. Tips of foods/protein drinks to keep on hand to make sure you're maximizing how much nutrition you get. Man's a whole ass survival guide.

He only offers advice if you ask, though. He's not mansplaining how to handle your own body. He genuinely wants to help you, and that's the best way he knows how.

When you're on your period and just want something soft and warm he doesn't even bitch about it, he just settles on top of you and purrs, offers a massage, maybe offers a sly grin and a "no man left behind" joke as he helps you through these dark times.

BONUS:

ADAM

Would only do this if you challenged him, he has to prove his masculinity. He is definitely nervous as fuck though because he's seen yours. You and Lute already forced him to sit through a whole PowerPoint on women's anatomy and shit. He remembers how shitty he was to Eve, even if hers were in comparison, not that bad, just scary and new.

You forcing him to learn about and acknowledge female health is making him scared of pussy. This isn't gonna help.

3 and 4 make him whiney. He's uncomfortable. His groin feels weird. This sucks. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS ISN'T EVEN THE AVERAGE?!"

By 5-7 he's actually on his knees, curled over his stomach. He tells you getting stabbed hurt less. This is making him re-evaluate his entire view on women (again he knows about trans people, but because of personal history equates periods to women. Wouldn't hate if a trans person had a period, it would just take his brain a second to process). He whines that you and Lute shouldn't be more badass than him.

"I thought men were supposed to be tougher and stronger. This pain tolerance horseshit is a lie. You guys suck."

He insists on going to 10 because quitting is for losers. He may actually throw up at 10 though. Every time the stupid simulators sends out a pulse and his stomach clenches, he groans. He's in the featal position, there are tears. One hand clenches his stomach the other is cupped around his groin. He's apologizing so much and he doesn't even remember what he's apologizing for. At one point its just "I'm sorry...oh fuck this...sorry about...ugh just...just men?! I guess. Fucking shit ass. Men suck. Women are...fucking great. Aces. You do this shit every month? For like 5 days....what the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck."

You feel a little bad, but Lute is definitely filming this. Afterwards, he tells you you're a badass and any person shit talking people for bitching about period pain (Not that a lot of Winners do, but ya know, obviously they let some questionable people into Heaven if Adam and Lute got by) he's gonna beat the shit out of them. Like "Do you even fucking know, bitch? They're literally so much fucking better than you. Absolute queens. You try doing literally anything when it feels like your dick is falling off and your insides are trying to claw outside your body!"

[razzle-n-dazzle]

Hihi!!

Can I ask for some Adam dating headcanons?

MY MAN NEEDS LOVEE

ᯓ★ "Alright, Sugartits. You, me, you know what we're going to do." Adam / reader | Headcanons This man deserves so much more love!! >:v

ᯓ As the first man, and proclaimed original dick, Adam not only is rather obnoxious with his titles though can be rude and a bit sexist. At least, that is what you first thought when you met him all those years ago; what felt like years but had actually been a few decades.

ᯓ You first met Adam in a council meeting, having been recently promoted to sit upon the council (or having been a sinner that Charlie was trying to redeem). Either way, you were not safe from Adam and his mischievous nature and it was like he could pick out new blood in the court room like a shark closing in on it's prey. You had been minding your business at first, settling yourself before you heard the sound of large wings flapping in your direction and a pair of footsteps landing behind you. Followed by another, smaller pair. The marble floor wasn't great in hiding their landing, but you guessed they weren't trying to be sneaky the moment that Adam had opened his mouth.

ᯓ "Shit, you're the new guy that Sera was talking about? Man, you're even shorter than I thought you were, Babe." Adam would laugh, jutting out his arm to measure the height comparison between you and him. You would turn around to this, and was quickly unamused by his antics. "Adam, I presume?" You would mumble back to him, face dropped in annoyance that he didn't seem to pick up on. He just seemed rather overly excited that you had knew his name. "Oh fuck! Mortal souls still talk about me down there on Earth? Well, I wouldn't expect anything else I fucking rock."

ᯓ He was pretentious, that was the best word you could describe him as. Rude, arrogant, obnoxious, pretentious. He boiled your blood anytime he opened his stupid mouth and you often just wanted to shove your hand down his throat just to rip it out. He would constantly barge into your office and appear behind you in court just to annoy you and see "what you're working on," since he's technically "your boss" and he just doesn't see anything "wrong with it". You've had to shove him out of your office so many times; had even complained to your superiors about his behavior and yet no one seemed to take you seriously. They would shrug their shoulders (especially Sera) and just claim: "That was Adam" and you just had to "deal with it." Oh and that made you want to punch the little fucker even more.

ᯓ Your 'professional relationship' with Adam started off extremely rocky and you tried your best to avoid him in the halls and courtroom at all cost. The less you had to see him, the less you had to hear about him, the less your had to hear him or even stand to be near him, the better.

ᯓ And Adam noticed. He noticed really quickly actually.

ᯓ Not like it was hard to notice, you basically avoided him at all costs. Taking another hallway if you saw or heard him coming down one, shoving past him if he tried to block your path, ignoring him if he tried to talk to you, and so much more that he brushed off. Constantly, you heard him turn to Lute and point at you, jokingly telling her: "It must be that time of the month." With his stupid grin and cheesy smile. (Does this even if you are male) And you thought it was just him trying to get under your skin and annoy you into talking to him again; or even acknowledging his presence. You also had a hunch that it was him trying to save his 'precious little ego' that makes him so insufferable to be near.

ᯓ Yet, it was odd. For how much you hated, no loathed Adam, you couldn't get his stupid face and idiotic voice out of your head when you were along, shrouded in the dead of night. Especially on nights like tonight: Where you were sat along in your office, the chimes of midnight ringing along Heaven, as night clouded and contaminated the once gleaming city of day. You were leaning over your desk, trying to finish an assignment given to you by Sera; an assignment that was important to your continuation of climbing the council ladder. And yet all you could hear was that stupid fucker's voice in your head constantly. His remarks, his tone, his- ugh! His stupid, stupid voice why couldn't it just leave you alone.

ᯓ Why couldn't he just leave you alone?

ᯓ . . . but, dammit, why did you feel comforted by the thought?

ᯓ In reality you shouldn't be, you should never feel comfortable around a prick like Adam who only searches for one thing in women; sex, ass, and tits. Three things, okay, but it's all in the general same category. He was the man who would be at the top of your hitlist, if you could have one in heaven, yet his voice was the only thing keeping you up right now; Letting you fight off sleep for another night and finish this report sooner than Sera said she wanted it just to show her how capable you are. And as you continued to scribble away, letting the moon crescent slip back under the clouds to let it's sister sun peak over with it's gleaming light, it hit you. And the realization of WHY hit you hard, and the truth made you stop in your tracks. The final period to end your assignment taunting you along with your thoughts:

ᯓ Somehow, someway, you had started to grow a crush on that fucker.

ᯓ Somehow, by some grace (more like punishment), of God did you begin to harbor something other than loathing for Adam. For the annoying Adam who constantly picked you out in a room and came over to talk to you. The Adam, which you never noticed, began to grow more tolerable even if you kept up your act of avoiding him. The Adam, who constantly comes in to see what your doing but then asks you a million and one questions, not because he cares about your work but because in some twisted sense in his mind, that's him caring about you or trying to get to know you. The Adam who called you Sugartits and Babe all in your first 2 seconds of meeting. "Fucking Adam.." You would grumble under your breath, slamming your pen down to finish that last period as a mix of emotions boiled in your blood.

ᯓ "Fuck me? Kinky, but what the fuck did I do to you, I just got in!" Shit. Well, this is such a great start in trying to get to know Adam better. (I hope you can hear the sarcasm that is basically pooling on the floor)

ᯓ Yet, somehow, no matter how rocky the situation ship started, somehow Adam had a big enough of an ego to see it through and you had gained enough patience to put up with his bullshit. And trust me when I say, you need either need to match his energy, yet in a more responsible way, or have enough patience to deal with this man or your drowning under his egoistical bullshit. (Adam needs a Hispanic wife desperately. /j)

ᯓ For the most part, your relationship is actually rather lovely. Most wouldn't believe it, seeing as Adam is.. well Adam, but you were able to see the weirdly good intentions behind his rather questionable and problematic choices. As for such, when he had gone to Sera to start the extermination, during the whole meeting all he could think about was keeping you safe. What was the best way to keep you safe? How could he keep you from being entranced by Lucifer or Lilith and their sin and evil? He didn't want to lose you like he lost Eve and Lilith. Sure, he joked about being a fuckboy and a player (at least that's how he comes off) yet he never has actually touched anyone after Eve. He was waiting for someone, someone like you, to capture his attention and soon after his heart; and he chased after you and he was going to keep you, and he was going to protect you if it was the last thing he did. Because as much as Adam hates to admit it, he is terrified to be alone; to live all the rest of his immortality by himself, going home to an apartment with no one to share the warmth and feeling that empty wound in his heart.

ᯓ Adam, on the lighter note, is also the type of man who will go to a restaurant with you and claim he'll try something new; i.e. lobster. You had known, at an instant, that it would go wrong and decided to order any sort of red meat you could find that you knew Adam would like. And, wouldn't you know it, when you two got the food he couldn't bare eating that lobster. So, you offered to switch your plates and he was more than happy to. You don't think he's caught on yet, but you'll keep it a secret just to be able to see the excited grin he gets before snatching your plate with a "Thanks Babe!" and even kissing you later.

ᯓ You learn very quickly the only way to get Adam to start cleaning around the house is to either A) let him play his guitar for you, to simulate that he's helping by giving you motivation (and swooning over his voice a little) or B) playing music similar to that Adam plays (like AC/DC, Imagine Dragons, anything Indie-rock) and give him small tasks to do that slowly equate to one larger task. And then, of course, there is always his favorite option C) hug your waist and make it impossible for you to clean your shared apartment as he basically speaks dirty into your ear with his classical snicker.

ᯓ You're guys sex life is amazing though, Adam makes sure of that (so that cunt Lucifer can't take you from him like he did Lilith and Eve, through 'temptation'). But, honestly, you're the only person he has given head to or has eaten out, pick your choice. Either way, man goes crazy if you tug on his hair or tell him you won't ever leave him.

ᯓ The first time you saw Adam with his mask off was an experience, both for you and for him. For a long, long time Adam kept his mask on around you, even while in private, and you've always asked why he did so but he would never give you a straight answer and would brush around it. You often chalked it up to be a comfort thing for him, to make him feel stronger than he actually was and you didn't bother him much. Yet one day, you got oh so curious about what his face was like under the mask that you couldn't help yourself: Sitting next to Adam outside on the balcony, you listened as he prattled on about his work day all the while he ate. He was having some burgers you had cooked for him before he got home, as he exclaimed about, "These bitches don't know who the fuck they were talking to! I mean, hello, I'm fucking Adam I'm the dick master and I would have fucked them into next Friday! I'm like 10 times cooler and stronger than them, bitches thought they could come into the exorcists and make fun of me, well I-..." Adam paused unnaturally, a confusion sweeping over his digitalized golden-accented features. "Babe, what the fuck are you doing?" He would add on no more than 5 seconds later, noticing had you had moved from your seat and basically were straddling him right now. Though you didn't hear him, well you did but you shut it out as soon as he opened his mouth again; "You know, this is making me fucking hard right now and if you just wanted your sweet little insides-" "Adam." You hushed him as his arms wrapped around your waist and brought you closer. There was no missing the way his eyes widened in suprise at your sterner tone. Though his grin returned, another crude comment about to slip from his lips before he hushed again; Doing so as your hands had meet and cupped his cheeks in such an oddly tender way. And Adam had a hunch what you wanted to do, or well what you wanted to see, and he felt those same nerves churn in his stomach again anytime this topic was brought up. Yet, no matter how much he noticed the want in your eyes, you didn't ask him. All you simply did was lean towards him and place your forehead against his, closing your eyes. And all Adam could do was stare at you, stare at your beauty in the light of the setting sun, and feel those nerves slowly string loose. And he felt safe; for the first time in a long, long, time he felt safe. "Babe.." And his voice cracked, causing your eyes to shoot open with worry. You drew away from Adam, your hands darting down to his shoulders as you wondered if you had somehow offended or harmed him. Yet all he did was smile softly at you as his wings fluffed out, basking in the light for a moment, before encapsulating the both of you. He was hesitant, his eyes drawing away from you as he took a moment to gather himself before he pulled off the mask for the first time. And you swore, in that moment, you somehow both practically died again and fell for him. "Oh shit.." You would mumble, catching Adam's attention rather quickly. You saw the worry contort on his face, "You've been hiding this handsome face from me, Adam what the fuck?! I would have much rather look at this than your fucking mask when you were blowing my brains out you b-" "Woah babe," Adam's hand rushed up and covered your mouth. You saw his scheming smirk playing onto his lips, "I can fuck you now if you want to, but I thought we were having a moment! Look at you, ruining it this time instead of me!~"

ᯓ Oh the fucking tease.

ᯓ Adam isn't perfect, far from it, but you aren't either. You honestly probably help each other over come traumas of the past and heal together. After all, you're both just a burning pile of hot mess, so why not be a burning pile together?

Home | Masterlist

ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.

(Hope this was good! :D I haven't written since I had gotten sick and writer's fog/block, so this might be a little more shaky than my regular work. I would appreciate any constructive critiques you may have!)

[ghostarii]

SILK STRINGS & PEARL RINGS, SCARAMOUCHE

ʚɞ kisses with the weight of pain and bruises colored like love — his heart hits like a punch and you’re the sucker to catch it.

WARNINGS ݈݇- fem!reader, referred to as kuni, impact play, asphyxiation, biting / marking, hair pulling, degradation, name calling, praise, creampie, overstimulation, more scaramouche than wanderer, minors & dc antis do not interact!

NOTE ݈݇- hey . . hey . . how y’all doin ^w^ ive been gone a while becuz tumblr wasnt it anymore nd life was lifeing ! am back now bc i missed u guys nd missed being a freak :c theres sm of u now — thank u sm for 900+! ! i loveee youu loads xoxoxooo Anywayyy i hope u enjoy this quick littl drabble to flex my muscles :3

WORD COUNT ݈݇- 1.1k

LIMBS LIKE STRINGS OF silk: soft, pliable, and delicate, all in the hands of an unworthy sinner. His rough callouses rub burning patches on your skin as he runs his hands across your supple skin. Even the finest silks blemish under unclean hands and you are no exception — you're the example.

The name he bears stumbles out of your mouth in broken gasps and he only wishes you would shut up; he tells you again and again in hopes of your compliance, to no avail. Your voice is a constant reminder of who he is to you and, otherwise, who he’s destroying for superficial, fleeting pleasure. He’s far too deep to pull away now and scurry away—he has no choice but to double down and bump the sense out of your brain in hopes of fogging your memory. It works in a skewed way: condensing your mind to the two syllables of his name. “Kuni! Kun—i!! God, Kuni—!!!” Your pitiful screeches play on broken recurrences.

And as the master weaver he is, your pleasure is sewn up to its peak for what feels like the millionth time. Your body quakes and trembles, quivering under his weight and attempting an escape jaggedly. A hearty, choked-up whine jumps out of your chest, “Sto—I can’t! K-Kuni, please—!”

Deaf ears ignore your cries and pound deeper, harder—slamming his pelvic bone against your twitching clit. His hands move from the expanse of the mattress to your neck: pressing you into the mattress with pressure on the sides of your neck just right. “Shut the fuck up,” he grits, rolling his hips into you. “Just shut up and take it.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, lashes fluttering rapidly as, quickly, your brain computes nothing but pleasure.

His hips snap against you with such intensity, that it makes you feel like he hates you. It borders on painful, eliciting sharp lightning rods to pierce and prod around your body. The sheer weight of this impassioned thrusting has you jolting up the bed and thrashing around under him, looking to escape the white-hot harvest of pleasure pulsing in your pussy.

On top of you, he burns a pretty rose that can only be described as fire. The tight grip around his cock fills his head with foggy air—but it's the wetness that spools around his length: splat, splat, splat, that sings out the lost orgasms from rounds previous and ample arousal. It’s that that has him grumbling out blurbs of pleasure, chasing his orgasm that rests in your depths.

Every sensation is heightened tenfold with the ever-demanding charge that is being fed in your tummies. Every pulse, squeeze, leak, prod—all of it is akin to plugging you up to an orgasm charge-port and capping off the battery.

It’s too much; you scream that out enough until you can't gather enough air to breathe, let alone speak. Kuni agrees with you but he really, really, wishes you would shut up. He can't think and with every sound you make, he’s urged on in this unshakeable, carnivorous desperation to fuck harder. He's not immune to pleasure; he may be more susceptible to its threats, in fact. Knitted brows and screwed eyes blind him to the overstimulated writhing you enact, wriggling under his touch in vain hopes of reprieve.

Tears stream down your cheeks to mix with a layer of slobber splayed on your skin—a pitifully nasty mess, born out of the relentless palms of your man. He has the liberty to see you at your most vulnerable: degeneracy painting itself all over your body. A beautifully disgusting mess, you are, and he only makes it worse.

Stirring around your guts is his angry hard-on, circling your walls in shaky rolling manners, letting you both rest against the other and heave out deep breaths. The tip grinds against your g-spot and has you whimpering weakly, slapping his forearms and rolling your stomach. “I’m gonna—”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He grits, grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging your head to the left. The stinging burn that dances at your roots has you wincing and whining, scrunching your face up. “Hold it.”

“I c-can’t, Kuni!” Just as the words leave your mouth, his hips are re-angled to push up into your pussy, the right-bound hook he sports curving right up to a gummy cushion in your walls. They contract around him and he groans, tightening his grip on your hair.

He dives into you, letting his hands grip your waist as his head wedges itself between your chin and shoulder. “Get it through your thick fucking skull,” he berates, nipping your collarbone. “You can't cum until I say so,”

His hips grind upward, drilling his dick deep into your depths that the hoarseness in your voice is shaken off for a shrill yelp to be squeezed out. He laughs at you menacingly, sinking his teeth into your shoulder to then circle the mark with his tongue. “Take it like a good bitch and I may be nice to you.”

Not a word he said will be upheld. You're so good—the best girl for him and he still dangles your release in front of you. Like a dog to a thick bone, you pant and whine in anticipation of being thrown your Achilles heel.

Exhaustion catches up to him and he can only lazily rock into you. His left hand presses on your stomach as he does so, trapping pressure in your tummy and mixing deliciously with your pleasure.

Heat swims beneath your skin and spills out beads of perspiration, gluing your bodies together.

Proximity; your bodies are so close and burning up fervent flames that swallow you down. Like the pliable silk you are, you slip around under his hold and that knot your stomach is tied up in easily unwinds.

“You’re coming, aren't you?” He shakily asks, exhaling deeply. If you aren't, he is.

Your non-answer is answer enough—he moans pathetically in your ear, falling apart as he ruts into you.

Holding on is a thing of the past as he slams against your sweet spot, unfurling his orgasm into you in milky ropes. Simultaneously, you release your biggest orgasm yet, splashing against his stomach and streaming down your legs. The pressure pushes him out with a grunt, a sadistic laugh of his echoing in your head.

Your swollen pussy is shining in pearlescent, bubbled strings, rolling out of you in a gushing mix. Oh, it's nasty; and you're utterly destroyed—flushed and blemished and patterned in bites, bruises, and prints. Your lips are swollen and bitten; your eyes are low-lidded and teary; your face is sweaty and tear-stained; your body quivers and spasms and Kuni thinks that you've never looked better.

Reprieve only lasts a mere moment before your legs are pushed up to your shoulders, spreading and stretching your limbs to their limits. Drawing out a whine, you speak hoarsely, “What’re you doing? No more..”

“I never told you to cum, did I?”

A break quickly becomes a distant memory.

[a-hazbin-reader]

A Alastor x wife!reader where reader has been wanting a family and finally by some miracle she discovers she's pregnant

Just a thought 🫠

You are not even the third person to ask for this and we're all already delusional here soooooo-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Sadness, Reader has baby fever and spreads it to her husband unintentionally, A little angst, Implied baby making 😉

Description: 👆⬆️

Alastor would do anything for his wife, spare no expense for her happiness and it shows

You two have talked previously about your obvious desire for a family with him

He would be willing to give that to you even though he's admittedly not the biggest fan of the idea

Part of him is scared of being a father but he won't ever admit that

You two both knew that sinners couldn't reproduce, and it crushed you that the opportunity was taken from you

You were still happy to have your husband and your found family at the hotel

You just still had that desire to have a baby, your husband's baby to be exact

Alastor hates seeing you so hurt over this, he wants to fix things for you, but this is out of his control

He couldn't give you a baby no matter how hard he tried, and that makes him feel helpless, which makes him angry

Sometimes the longing for a baby and the despair of knowing you can't have one gets to be too much for you and you unintentionally draw into yourself

Not amount of hugging or soothing words from your husband can console you, no matter how hard you cling to him and seek his comfort

You're just so sad sometimes

Which leads to Alastor being frosty and agitated with the others around the hotel, upset that he can't just fix it

He would give you the biggest family if he could, whatever he could do to make you feel whole

It's not like you two are neglecting each other or growing apart, there's just this heavy feeling hanging between you two

Everyone knows something is up with you two, but nobody is brave enough to ask, except maybe Vaggie, but she's respecting your privacy as a couple

Of course, it's Charlie who tries to get to the bottom of things for the two of you, everyone is just worried you two are fighting

So when you finally relent and tell her the truth, she's relieved that you and Alastor only want to have a baby-

YOU AND ALASTOR WANT TO HAVE A BABY!?

Sinners can't reproduce so you're just riding out your baby fever until it's manageable again

But no sinner has had a friend in the Morningstar family before

Not even a day later Alastor is greeted by Lucifer while you're out with Charlie and the others

"Hey man, heard you wanted me to get your wife pregnant! Lucky for you, I happen to have a thing for married women~"

When you come back home you're surprised to see Lucifer and your husband talking amicably, both turning their heads towards you immediately

"Ah! Would you look at the time? I should really get going, things to do, ducks to make-what?"

Lucifer gives you an unexpected side hug on his way out, hand resting momentarily on your stomach before leaving

You rub where he touched, surprised by the sudden warmth that lingers there

Your husband is looking at you strangely too but kisses you in greeting before you can even question it

Alastor acts rather clingy the rest of the day, following you around, asking you how you're feeling, giving affection more freely

You can't deny that you're loving the attention and soaking up every bit of it, the warmth in your stomach having spread throughout your entire body now

If Alastor's sudden neediness is anything to go by, he's feeling the same as you are

How either of you manage to wait until everyone has gone to bed to indulge in each other is beyond you

The entire night is a blur but when you wake up the entire bed has nearly been torn apart

Feathers are all over the place, the blankets have all been kicked away or shredded, the bed frame is clawed and cracked

You would almost feel embarrassed, but when you look at your handiwork on your husband, you can't help but feel proud

Things mostly go back to normal after that, except Lucifer visits more often and seems to pay special attention to you

You feel like everyone is watching you lately and you don't know why, you're never alone anymore, your husband especially is very hovery

But it ends up working out in your favor because one day you wake up, overwhelmed by the urge to vomit, your husband holding back your hair

And it keeps happening for days on end, and you start gaining weight without explanation, and your cravings are suddenly intense and-

Your husband is looking a little too pleased with himself, rubbing your back soothingly as you poke at your mysteriously changing body in the mirror

"You did this to me somehow, didn't you!"

"Why honey, why would I need to babytrap you when we're already married?"

"Because you-what?"

It takes a few moments to register what he said, all the strange things in the last few months clicking into place

"You got me pregnant..?"

He actually starts to look a little embarrassed, suddenly unsure if he really did the right thing after all-

When did he end up on the bed?

Is definitely sure in his decision later when he exits the bedroom, fixing his hair and clothes while he leaves you sleeping in bed

Luckily, the hotel has a lot of people who are willing to help out with your pregnancy because Alastor is worried he's actually in over his head

Your mood swings are more like mood hurricanes and sometimes he needs help knowing the right things to say

"Y/N, don't worry about not fitting into your own clothes, this is uh...just an opportunity to get new ones!"

"T-Thanks Vaggie..."

The cravings start to get fucking weird, Alastor genuinely repulsed by some of the things you're asking him for

"Darling, I can get you fresh meat as bloody as you want but do you really need to eat it with cake and ice cream?"

"Don't you love me..?"

He'll be back in 10 minutes

The bigger you get, the more sore and tired you are, constantly needing help around the hotel as you waddle around

"Thanks for helping me, Husk...I was getting really tired."

"Charlie, is it alright if I sit in that chair? My back is killing me.."

Alastor is scared with how vulnerable you are like this so he sticks close to you but silently appreciates the help from everyone

Even the other overlords come to see your miracle pregnancy, which doesn't help with Alastor's paranoia over how defenseless you are right now

They just want to see

As if Carmilla or Rosie would let anything happen to you anyways, Rosie loves the crap out of you and Carmilla wouldn't hurt an expecting mother

Rosie is constantly visiting and bringing baby gifts, so many that they're starting to pile up around the hotel

"Oh darling, you're practically glowing! Alastor! Have you told Y/N how radiant she is with her pregnancy?"

She wants to be Aunty Rosie so bad

Alastor genuinely admires the changes in your body, feeling pride in the thought that he did this to you

"With a little help from the big boss of-"

"You haven't left already?"

"I want to talk to my god child~ Can you stop hogging Y/N's belly for five minutes?"

"Your what now?

Alastor rubs your belly a lot, baffled by the idea that his spawn is in there and how happily you carry it

How you're so proud to be having his kid is beyond him, he knows what a wretched man he is and you still love him, take pride in him

The first time he feels the baby kick, he's a little unnerved but then you guide his hand back, smiling at him in a way that makes his heart ache for you

"Our baby wants to say hi to you..."

Okay, now his heart is melting, give your husband a kiss right now

Starts kissing and talking to your belly more after that, talking to the baby about anything and everything as if you're not even there

"Now your mother, you have no idea how lucky she is to have me as her husband~"

Confides in you late one night, about his fear of being a father and failing you and the baby

Not him having tears pinpricking in the corners of his eyes as you kiss him and reassure him

He doesn't particularly care about the gender of his child, just that you and the little spawn are okay

But if the baby is a girl, then he would like her to have his mother's name, that's all he would ask really

If the baby is a boy then he'll let you pick the name out as long as it's something fancy sounding

Does all the work when it comes to the nursery and baby proofing but has no idea what that actually entails, so you'll have to help him out

He's so proud to show you the finished look

The closer it gets to your due date, the more out of sorts and anxious he is but he tries to put on a brave face for you

He makes sure you never have to lift a finger, doing everything he can to make you comfortable and spending all his free time with you

Carmilla and her daughters all volunteer to assist in the labor, Zestial coming for the sake of tagging along

Alastor is in genuine anguish when you actually go into labor, the sound of you in pain and him being helpless to help is torture for him

Refuses to leave your side the entire time, blocking out everything else but you and encouraging you as best he can

Focuses so hard on taking care of you that he hardly notices that you've finished, surprised when Carmilla suddenly puts not one but two babies in your arms

You're visibly exhausted but seem to gain a renewed energy at the sight of your babies, looking at them in wonder before giving Alastor a tearful smile

"A boy and a girl, a miracle on top of already being miracle babies. Congratulations, Alastor."

Carmilla pats him on the shoulder before leaving, pulling Zestial and her daughters along with her

Alastor doesn't even register what she said, still dumbfounded at the sight of you cooing at two squirming infants

TWINS!? Lucifer, you sneaky son of a bi-

"Do you want to hold them, Alastor?"

"I would love nothing more, my dear..."

He definitely doesn't immediately fall in love when his babies cling to him like they'll never let go, holding his fingers in their unbelievably tiny hands

A LITTLE TREAT FOR ALL OF YOU WHO WERE BEGGING FOR THIS

[madamechrissy]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Satoru Gojo Drabbles ˚୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

I have so many, I thought I would put them all in here for you all!! It's all smut and explicit, all about 1k words or more, mostly from inbox requests

Bully! Gojo- NSFW Gojo is a dick and bullies you in college, and you honestly fucking love it, lil masochist. Part Two

Priest! Gojo- NSFW You have a confession to make to Father Gojo, sinner, don't worry, he'll fill you with love and light!

Pervert! Gojo- also have some Pervert! Geto here - NSFW Satoru can't help but fuck you and send videos to his bestie

Sugar Daddy! Gojo- NSFW - Gojo loves to spoil you constantly, with his money and with his cum <3

Vampire! Gojo - Vamp Gojo rly wants your blood, oh and he also totally wants to marry you?

Yandere Roomie! Gojo - Yandere Satoru may or may not have got you kicked out of your apartment so you have to live with him, you may or may not rly care bc dick

You're mine, got it baby?- Yandere Gojo x short fem reader- NSFW you asked the neighbor to change your porch light, Satoru needs to teach you better

One Night at the club - Yandere Gojo x Tall fem reader- NSFW he meets you at a bar and you knock a dude out- hott

How to get a raise: Satoru Gojo x smol boob reader- NSFW you wear a new bra at the office, Gojo doesn't like it

Just one more time: NSFW Satoru needs to go again and again, just one more time plz

Bad Idea Right -NSFW- you trip and fall into ex boyfriend Gojo's bed

His Instrument - Yandere Gojo x Musician Darling- NSFW Gojo goes to all your operas!

An Arranged Marriage with Gojo: NSFW You are arranged to marry Gojo, sight unseen, and run into a hot white haired guy at the bar the night before

You Cryin baby? - NSFW Satoru Gojo x Busty reader- Satoru really likes your titties!

I'll Win- NSFW Sato/Sugu x slim reader- they're just being freaky lil hoes lol

First Time -Satoru Gojo x Virgin reader- NSFW you want your best friend to be your first!

I'm Into it: NSFW - Satoru and you are best friends, and there's only one place to sit, his lap.

Yan!Gojo wants Geto's girl - NSFW- Just Gojo jerking off to a pic he stole off Geto's phone of youuu

Ice Cream: SFW- You are pregnant and miserable, Satoru calls you an orca LMAO

My first kiss went a little like this- SFW- arranged marriage, jujutsu sorcerers, you can break Gojo's barrier- sweet, fluffy cute

Tell me how you hate me - NSFW- just Gojo hating you and loving your coochie lol

Need a Seatbelt when I ride it - domestic smut with you and soccer dad Satoru

Losing focus every time you speak, girl - nsfw Yan Gojo mad that your boss Sukuna flirts with you

Morning after Christmas with Satoru - nsfw the morning after Christmas, how long do you all have before the kids wake up?

Even though I'm wifey you can hit it like a sidechick - CEO Gojo and his assistant/wifey

Dom Gojo/sub reader reader is edged and dommed by a jealous Satoru

Virgin Gojo - Gojo and your first time- drabble

Masterlist of all my full series/ fics

Long Oneshots of Gojo here - Masterlist

[freakyfrye]

ᝰ. 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔢𝔰

requested ( @cartoonykat ) : alastor, angel dust, husk, lucifer, charlie & vaggie, vox, adam, sir pentious x gn! reader (separately), they’re having a moment (or romantic date) but it’s interrupted/ruined by someone or something

type: scenarios

content: domestic, fluff, slight crack, bunch of smitten sinners, swears, angle dust bad ass reader s/o, val mentioned thrice cause he’s annoying ash (but he will be added to the blog soon), vox’s kind of a whiny baby but it’s hot (?¿), brief luci vs alastor bit

note: this took a while. ngl because, honestly, alastor and luci had me stumped — also some may be longer than others, what can I say? give inspiration where it’s due

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕬𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯

It's rare to see Al anywhere but the heir Morningstar Hotel, whispering over her shoulder like the villain you know him to be. Yet, even he needs a break from the chaos. Strangely enough, for someone who loathes any form of physical touch, he always shows up on your doorstep like clockwork by the end of the week.

Your mornings are routinely filled with melodic tones that stir you awake. The air is thick with the scent of powdered sugar beignets, which only he can make, and the aroma of the finest coffee beans you worked hard to procure because you knew how much he enjoyed them.

He's busy working on something when you creep up behind him, hearing him hum along to his favorite jazz song. Always the jolly fellow with the wickedest mind, he seems at peace for once, even when you audaciously wrap your arms around his waist from behind.

In the past, he would have tensed up and demanded an explanation through clenched teeth. Instead, he now leans into your touch as you lay your head on his back. “Mornin’ Al.” you’d greet muffled, breathing in his scent.

He hums softly, wiping his hands on a cloth before turning towards you, his grin devilishly relaxed. "Well, well, good morning, mon cher. Hope I didn't stir you with all my shufflin'."

You open your mouth to assure him that wasn't the case when, within the next second, there's a loud boom from your far wall and debris flying around your kitchen. When the dust clears, you both stare blankly at a large hole in your wall. You're lost to what's happening when a figure steps through, glaring at Alastor with intense hatred.

"What—Who?" you ask, looking from him to Al, whose smile is tense. "Is this one of your enemies?" you deduce, realizing he must be, since he wasn't here for you.

Alastor blinks before turning towards you, smiling proudly. "Who could tell?,” he jokes, “It's a difficult task to keep track when you're the most hated demon in hell."

“You gonna handle that?” you ask, staring up at him, a frown on your face.

You didn't have to ask twice; he was already pulling away from you, though he didn't appear as cheerful as one might expect when heading off to handle his business.

“And fix my wall when you’re done, Alastor.”

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩 𝕯𝔲𝔰𝔱

It was clear that Angel hadn’t been himself lately. Whether it was the strain from Valentino’s demands or dealing with Charlie and her redemption shenanigans, the reasons were irrelevant. It did bother you and concerned you that he wasn’t confiding in you about whatever was troubling him, though.

But you weren’t going to press him, adding to his burdens. Instead, you decided to show your support: tidying up your place, setting the table, adjusting the lighting, and spending the entire day preparing his favorite Italian dishes. They weren't quite as perfect as his mama's, but you knew no one could match her cooking.

As evening arrived, you finally invited him over, knowing he wouldn’t be free until this hour, dealing with Val’s big head. Greeting him at the door with a kiss, you noticed his tired gaze soften as he returned the gesture. Leading him inside, he gradually perked up, taking in the atmosphere you had carefully set.

By the time he sits at the table, he's lively, smiling like a kid in a candy store as he pours both of you a glass of Roscato wine. “Wow, baby, all this for me?” he asks with a bashful charm, his eyes slightly hooded as he swirls the wine in his glass, chin resting on the back of his hand.

“No,” you begin joking, “this is for the guy after you—don’t eat it all, alright? Leave some for him.”

Angel chuckles, setting down his glass to pick up his fork. He scoops up some fettuccine, then leans forward and offers it towards your mouth. "I think ya runnin’ that pretty mouth a lil too much, sweet cheeks. We both know there ain’t no competition."

Before you can bite back something naughty, his hellphone chimes repeatedly in his pocket. A weighty silence falls over both of you as he reluctantly sets down his fork and retrieves it, his brow furrowing deeply at the messages displayed on his screen. He looks to you from his phone before sighing and rising from his seat.

You raise your hand, stopping him in his tracks. "Wait. Hold on! Where do you think you're off to?" you demand, scrutinizing him suspiciously.

He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he gestures with his hands while explaining, "I'm sorry, sugar. It's Val. He needs me. I gotta go—"

"Sit your ass down," you bark, your mood souring. Angel does a double-take, and you continue, "I planned this day perfectly—slaved away to cook these loving dishes for you—and that man-child was not part of the picture. If he wants my man, he better come and pry me away from you."

Angel quickly considers his options. Ignoring Val usually ends in trouble, but ignoring you feels worse than anything Val could inflict—especially since you're somehow scarier and hotter than him. Plus, he knows you can handle yourself, a skill you demonstrated long before you two got together. He makes his choice and sits back down. To hell with Val; dealing with him can wait.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕳𝔲𝔰𝔨

By the end of the day, exhausted from working tirelessly, all you wanted was to faceplant into your bed. But Husk was coaxing you to spend the night with him, mentioning relaxation and the allure of Hennessy. Honestly, if he had just said he wanted to see you, you’d be right over. No coaxing needed, but who’s gonna tell him?

As you stand outside his room door, it dawns on you that Husk may not even know what it means to relax. Sure, he's somewhat chill after a few drinks, but you've never seen him truly unwind since you've known him. You wonder what you’re in for when you knock on his door, waiting for him to answer.

A gravelly voice answers through the door, "Come in," then falls silent. You purse your lips in confusion and twist open the door, cautiously stepping inside. The room is dimly lit by candles, making it a bit challenging to see at first, but as your eyes adjust, you find him seated on a loveseat, staring at you intently.

"Yeah, not creepy at all," you mumble halfheartedly, dropping your bag on his bed before walking over to him. Your comment earns a tsk from him and a grumble under his breath, but nothing more. Yeah, this was definitely weird. “Who are you and what did you do with gumpelherekitty kitty?”

"Shut the hell up and come here before there's no liquor left," he bites, taking the bait with a small smile on his face as he watches you flop down beside him. An array of pillows behind you looks like clouds waiting to be drooled on, but instead of relaxing just yet, you lean in for a kiss.

A glass of Hennessy is placed in your hands as you pull away, the dark liquid resembling brown sugar but far from sweet. You judge the small amount and down it in one gulp, tilting your head back and letting out a hiss at the burn. It was well worth it, though.

Husk must have agreed because he took the glass from your hand to pour another. "Rough day, huh?" Instead of passing it back to you, he drinks it himself and then gently guides you back onto the pillows, placing your legs across his lap.

You groan, "You have no idea!" before pausing, recalling his own stressful situation. You send him a sympathetic smile, "Then again, you might." You watch as he shrugs, carefully removing your shoes one by one and placing them aside.

"Tell me about it," he says, grabbing one of your feet and starting to massage it, aiming to ease the soreness. "Your day, I mean. Or not." Despite his half-hearted objection, he looks at you expectantly, knowing you'll likely indulge him anyway. And you do—you recount how everything that could go wrong today did, venting about nasty customers and expressing relief to end the day with him.

That confession didn’t escape him; instead, he purrs softly at your words, his eyes grows hooded as his hand moves from your feet to your calf, rubbing gently. He starts to reply when his door bursts open, capturing both of your attention.

He stands up, your legs sliding off his lap as he reaches for his cards, but pauses at the sound of Nifty's sinister giggling and the frantic scraping on the floor. You both watch as she chases a large roach in circles for a few seconds too long before finally following it out the door.

"You people are strange," you comment after a long pause.

Husk sighs heavily through his nose, flopping back into his earlier spot and pouring himself and you a drink. "Tell me something I don't know, sweetheart.”

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕷𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯

You've been in the hotel long before he showed up. You were already making progress on your redemption arc to heaven. That was always the goal, but you never anticipated to fall for him. This complicated your plans, and he knew it. You wonder if that’s where his doting and overbearing behavior stems from; abandonment and guilt—the risk of both losing you and stopping you from enlightenment.

He often sweeps you off your feet and plans spontaneous outings, desperate to keep you close for as long as possible. It was romantic and considerate of him, just so him, but he didn't have anything to worry about. You wish you could tell him, when you realized it, that even in heaven, you'd fall just to be with him. But the relationship was still fresh so you opt in matching his energy.

The dopey smile he gave you after you guided him to the candlelit table adorned with handmade meals was worth it. You could visibly see his shoulders relax, as if a weight had been lifted. Ever the gentleman, he helps you sit before himself. The evening is filled with sweet nothings, laughter, and smitten glances.

Lucifer reaches across the table, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips, planting a loving kiss on your knuckles. "Thank you," he expresses his gratitude as dinner comes to an end. But you had more planned for this night.

"I should be the one thanking you," you confess, causing him to raise a curious brow. You playfully reach over and nudge it back into place, eliciting a pout but no protest. Instead he chooses to lean more into your touch. "I haven't had this much fun since arriving in hell in years."

His devilish grin returns, his posture straightening as he half-heartedly feigns humility, failing halfway because how could he not when you're hyping him up? "Well, y’know, I try. How about we take a trip to Lulu world tomorrow? It's a blast—fully comp, of course, you’re dating the boss," he winks mischievously.

“Don’t you mean “loo loo land”?”

Lucifer shakes his head, waving his hands dismissively. "No—no no no, heavens no. That dreadful place shouldn’t exist in any of the 7 rings,” he sneers with disdain.

You nod, though not fully understanding, and rise from your seat. Lucifer, following your lead like a lost puppy, closes the distance between you. With a smile, you guide him by the sleeve to the center of the ballroom, wrapping your arms around his neck. "The night's far from over. Care to dance with me?" On cue, soft music gently fills the background.

He certainly does. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close, swaying gently. His expression softens to one of peace. You playfully plant a kiss on his nose before resting your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes in contentment. They open not even a minute later when the music abruptly stops, gaining both your attention.

You know where the music box is, assuming it malfunctioned but you're surprised to see Alastor standing there, observing you both. Once your attentions on him, he casually addresses everyone in the room, "Oh, my sincerest apologies. Am I interrupting something?" his smile widens at the growl that rumbles from Lucifer chest.

"You’re still here?" Lucifer grumbles, holding you closer, clearly annoyed by the interruption, especially because of who it was.

This earns a deep chuckle from Alastor, “Well, of course. Charlie’s had her fill of parental figures abandoning her, wouldn’t you say, sir?”

“What did he say?!” Lucifer turns towards you for confirmation.

"Anywho, I came to inform you both that a hotel meeting has been called. You know where," Alastor adds, then starts up the music again before disappearing into the shadows.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝖁𝔞𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔢 & 𝕮𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔢

Redemption this, redemption that. That's all Charlie ever talks about, with Vaggie always backing her up. Sure, you support her too, but it gets annoying when it consumes all their time, leaving very little for the three of you to nurture your relationship. It was seriously irritating the heck out of you. Having two girlfriends but neither showing you affection like the good old days.

They probably caught on to the problem after enduring your snappy, sarcastic comments and watching you bail on redemption exercises for the nth time this week. With enough silent glances exchanged between them, they realized they had to do something. The following week, they lead you to a romantic picnic in the hotel's garden. You didn't even know the garden existed.

It was surprisingly sweet, especially for a setting in Hell—maybe even slightly cheesy. A white lace blanket was spread across the ground, with a silver tray of desserts of all kinds adorned with rainbow flag toothpicks. Beside it was a black heart-shaped picnic basket and a bouquet of flowers.

There was champagne with smiley faces on the bottle and plates with quirky little sandwiches that you were sure Charlie had tried to make. A gothic black umbrella stuck out from the ground, purpose of shielding you all from the hot sun.

Before you could say anything—not that there was much to say, as you were frankly speechless—Charlie and Vaggie pulled you to sit with them. Vaggie wore a soft smile, while Charlie beamed with eagerness.

"We’ve noticed you’ve been a little snippy lately,” Charlie starts, her expression shifting to one of guilt and sympathy. She tightens her hold on you, pulling you closer to her side. “I’m so, so sorry, sweetie. I’ve been so focused on the guest that I’ve neglected both you and Vaggie.”

“I carry some of the blame too,” Vaggie chimes in. “I was so caught up in making sure the hotel ran smoothly and keeping everyone safe that I forgot about the people who matter most to me.”

Charlie’s hands travel down your arms to hold yours in hers. “Can you forgive us? We really didn’t mean it.”

“Of course we didn’t,” Vaggie adds, placing her hands on top of Charlie’s. “We love you so much.”

You bite your lip, glancing between their faces as guilt starts to eat at you because of their words and romantic gestures. “Fuck…” you groan, pouting and closing your eyes. “I’m such an asshole.”

Charlie shakes her head. “No, you’re sweet for wanting time with us,” she says, batting her lashes. “We want time with you too.” She leans in, placing a soft kiss on your lips. Vaggie leans in for a kiss, but just then, someone stumbles into the garden, interrupting the moment.

“Charlie!” Lucifer exclaims, zeroing in on her before finally noticing the surroundings, including Vaggie and you. “Oh—uh, haha,” he chuckles nervously, “I’m interrupting something, aren’t I?” He slowly starts to back away. “I’ll just find you later, sweetie! Enjoy your date.”

Just as quickly as he stumbled in, he’s gone. Charlie gives you both an apologetic smile before you all resume your date.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝖁𝔬𝔵

Opportunity didn’t always come knocking, but you must have one hell of a lucky streak to go from being Vox’s assistant by day to his lover by night. As his assistant, you saw how swimmingly put together Vox always was—after all, the cameras were always rolling if you were one of the Vees.

There was never a moment he wasn’t on top of things, keeping everything in check and everyone in line. Of course, the best times were when Alastor wasn’t involved. But now Alastor is back, and he’s even more of a pain in his side than Vox remembered. Just when Vox was on top of the world, now he’s glitching out at the very thought of that vermin.

Surprisingly, he kept it together in front of almost everyone. But when the clock strikes midnight, he clocks out and heads to his fancy penthouse where you're currently curled up on the couch, waiting for him. His expression instantly shifts to a tired smile as he walks over to you, and you open your arms for him.

He flops all his weight onto you, burying his face in your chest with a low groan. You purse your lips, wrapping your arms around his upper back and kissing his head. Cooing, almost babying him, you ask, “Had a rough day, sugar?” You wouldn’t know since your shift ended hours before his. He grumbles inaudible into your chest.

Tsking, you shake your head. “I can’t understand you when you do that.”

After a moment, he reluctantly pulls away just enough to glance up at you. “That smiling freak… fuuuck…” he mutters before snuggling back into your chest.

There was only one freak who smiled like he had carved it into his cheeks. Why are you not surprised? Sighing, you ask the million-dollar question, “What did he do now?”forcing him to look up at you fully. Perhaps the better question is what doesn’t he do? He can so much as breathe in Vox’s direction and it pisses him off.

“That shitty fuck is tanking my ratings,” Vox begins ranting. “Yesterday, they were down 2 percent. Today, they’re down 7 percent. 7 PERCENT!”

Tilting your head, you frown. “How do you know it’s him? Alastor doesn’t like electronics.”

Vox narrows his eyes down at you as he rises from on top of you, sparks flying from his hands. “Are you seriously defending that asshole right now?!” he asks, his voice strained with disbelief.

“Of course not! What the hell, Vox? I was just stating the obvious.” Here he was, getting insecure again. Seriously, why even mention Alastor around him?

"Fuck your obvi-" Vox is cut off by the ringing of his phone. Velvet's name and photo pop up on his screen. Blinking, you wait to see if he's going to answer, but he declines the call. "—ous bullshit. You’re riding his dick more than mine."

Hunky hunky hunky.

She calls again, and this time Vox answers, zapping the call to the main screen in the living room. “What is it, Velvette? I’m in the middle of—” his screen glitches, his voice turning to static, “—something.”

"What the fuck do you think? He’s at it again, throwing a fucking tantrum over that spider whore," Velvette barks through the screen, her accent heavy with annoyance. "Handle it. I’m busy," she adds, then hangs up.

After the call, silence fills the room before he turns to you, his charming grin returning. “This conversation isn’t over,” he says, his words carrying a double meaning. Still, he leans over to give you a kiss on the lips before he leaves.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕬𝔡𝔞𝔪

Lately, he's been acting strange. You weren’t sure what it was, but each time he comes down to visit you from heaven, he becomes more and more affectionate. At first, you thought he was teasing you, giving you just enough to keep you yearning and then pull back; let you sweat in want—but that never happened. It didn't click in your head until today, after he grudgingly confessed because—

“What the fuck??” you blink owlishly at your bathroom door. But the door isn’t the issue; it’s the noise coming from outside it. Lowering your thriller book, you place it on the toilet seat before rising from the bathtub, wrapping a towel around yourself, and exiting the bathroom.

You're glad to know you weren’t losing your mind, and were in fact hearing correctly. There was indeed a noise, more defined now—an instrumental tune growing louder towards your bedroom. Except, it wasn’t coming from inside your bedroom come to find out but outside your window.

Opening it, you peek over the sill, and your mouth drops. Standing there, looking up at you with an acoustic guitar in his hand, is Adam, with a bouquet of red roses lying at his feet.

“Adam…?” you stutter out, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What the hell are you doing?”

His fingers pause on the guitar strings, and he grins. "Fucking finally, babe, I've been standing out here for 10 minutes," he says as he slides the guitar onto his back. He then bends down to pick up the roses and waves them at you. "I brought you flowers."

"…for what?" you bluntly ask, narrowing your eyes in suspicion. Adam doesn’t do kind gestures—none that you know of—and he certainly doesn’t play acoustic guitars. He claims they're for pussy-whipped douchebags.

He scoffs, lowering it to his side with a shrug, “There has to be a reason?”

You chuckle, raising a brow. "That's how it works, dummy… why did you stay out there for 10 minutes? Just use the front door." Shaking your head, you duck back inside the window to close it and start getting dressed. You're halfway through putting on your pants when Adam barges into your room, tossing the guitar onto the bed.

He walks over to you, checking you out with a sultry smirk. "Are you struggling to fit into your pants?" he asks, before shaking his head as if to focus, adding and shoving the flowers at you, "I heard mortal bitches love this shit."

You finish buttoning your pants while juggling the roses, then sigh loudly and close the distance, pecking him on the lips. "What? Flowers being shoved at them and terrible music. Stick to electric guitars, Adam. It’ll get you laid more." you say sarcastically, pulling away and chuckling. “Acoustics are for pussy-whipped douchebags, remember?”

“Well, yeah, obviously!” Adam follows after you, scratching his head. “I’m talking about me serenading you and giving you flowers… It’s a romantic gesture or whatever… right?” He sounds unsure himself.

You whirl around to face him, pursing your lips as you try to figure out how to word what you’re going to say next without sounding too harsh. "Okay… what the actual fuck is going on with you? You haven’t been yourself the last few weeks, and this is starting to really weird me out."

Adam draws back, his lips forming a tight line before he utters, "Uhhh…" and averts his eyes. "I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about." Then, within seconds, he's back to his upbeat self, pulling you towards him by your hips. "You’re fucking hot. Who wouldn’t wanna get in your pants?"

You shake your head, removing his hands and crossing your arms as you stare pointedly at him. It's a silent staring contest for three minutes before he caves in with an annoyed groan. His shoulders tense up as he grumbles, "Fine, fuck. You can be so annoying when you want to be…"

When he doesn't get a reaction from you, he spills the beans, pacing around the room. "Some losers up in Heaven said I wasn't romantic. Me. I'm like, No fucking way, I'm the first dick. Nobody knows how to make bitches fall harder on it!" He scoffs, slouching in place. "Those little fuckers laughed in my face."

You sigh, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "So you came here to prove a point?" He nods, and you continue, "For the first man, you can be pretty stupid. I’m in Hell, who’s going to know? And secondly, I don’t need all this—it’s cute, but you can be sweet in your own Adam way, not this poser crap."

"Well, shit, fuck. Wish I knew that before wasting my break on this instead of fucking the breath outta you," he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist. "I guess I'll just have to make up for it next time."

“Well you better hurry up. The faster you finish your work, the sooner you come back to me.”

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕾𝔦𝔯 𝕻𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰

When you were alive, your dating life was less than healthy and filled with constant disappointment. Your friends called it toxic, but you’d always reply that you only live once. So what if your typical lover was the stereotypical bad boy? Red flags never looked better on anyone. Besides, red was your favorite color.

Ending up in Hell with the life you led was no surprise. You thought you’d keep up the same lifestyle—getting plastered and starting fights with assholes—but somehow you wound up in a crappy hotel after the princess of Hell saw "potential" in you. But what left you even more baffled than potentially spending the rest of your stay in hell there was falling for a simp of a man.

A true gentleman from a different era than yours has you questioning where someone like him was hiding out in your past life. And if you had come across someone like him back then, would you have even given him the time of day if you weren’t being cooped up in a raggedy hotel? Highly unlikely but you’re glad you found him now, while on the road of redemption together.

You may have become sappy enough to tell him that whenever you both had alone time to breathe each other in, much like now. Watching as a heavy blush dusts across his face, his eyes glossing over with devotion, his tail swishing behind him, and his hands fidgeting. Man, he gets more adorable day by day.

“I—” he pauses to gather himself before continuing, “Well, I feel the sssame way, dear!" Sir Pentious always exclaims, suddenly grabbing your hands in his and adding, "In fact, I have sssomething for you. To sshow how much I value our time together…" His voice trails off bashfully.

Biting your lip with a grin, you coo at him, “You made something for me, baby? What is it?” You start making guesses, “Is it a little gadget that protects me? That’s sweet, but I don’t need that. I’m plenty strong on my own.”

“Oh, I know what you’re capable of, my beloved!” he bellows proudly. “Thisss is different. SSsomthing personal, for me and for you… I hope you’ll like it.” He turns away, digging into a bag you only just noticed. When he turns back around, in his hand is something you didn’t expect but also makes sense: an egg.

You eye it curiously, “Pen. Are you gifting me an egg?”

“Yesss... but not just any egg. Our egg,” he says, his hood flattening and eyes growing doe-eyed.

“Wait, what?” you tilt your head, now confused. Last time you checked, you didn't go egg hunting with him and—your eyes bulge out when realization sets in. “Heavens sake, Pen, did you-did you lay an egg?” You thought sinners couldn’t have children…

He shakes his head erratically. “Sssatan’s no. I created this one for us to—" He pauses to take a deep breath, closing his eyes. “To raise together,” he finishes, opening his eyes enough to peek at your reaction. He opens them fully after seeing you smiling.

“That’s the sweetest fucking gift anyone has ever gave me.” you open your arms for him, “Come here, baby.”

Delighted at your reaction, and never one to turn down physical invitations from you, he slithers over towards you. But in the moment of excitement, as he opens his arms to reciprocate, the egg slips through his hands and splats to the floor.

“Oh my God, Pen!” you shout horrified as he drops to the floor, mouth open in utter disbelief.

[that-hazbin]

Need more fics where Lucifer is a straight up asshole. No one does his assholery justice. Like, he calls Charlie's friends "a bunch of losers." Basically goes on a taunting "I'm right you're wrong" rant on Charlie while her hotel is LITERALLY crumbling around her. When he first shows up, he COMPLETELY ignores the rest of the hotel greeting him and just walks by them to look around and give everything extremely judging looks. He treats them like they're not even there, until Alastor forces him to shift his attention towards him.

There is not a single doubt in my mind that this man is a privileged asshole. He's not the kind of guy who's nice or understanding towards a waiter who's struggling. He's definitely not the kind of person who says "thank you" often.

I think the only people who ever write Lucifer as a dick are people who genuinely HATE Lucifer, and I don't read their fics either because they always go too far with it and depict him as an actual monster, which is... not what I want either.

I just really want a fic where Lucifer actually starts off acting like the dick he is in canon, and then slowly starts to realize how much of a jerk he is as he gets to know the rest of the hotel. Like, him coming to understand that these people have layers to them, and don't really fit into this mold of what he believes sinners to all be like. They're multi-faceted individuals who are capable of and willing to show genuine care and kindness to one another.

Added to this, I really want a fic where like. The rest of the hotel actually outright don't like Lucifer BECAUSE of his entitled attitude. And Lucifer has to get hit in the face with the fact that he's the one at fault here for the way they act towards him. For example; No, Husk is not going to have friendly small talk with you, Lucifer, you literally only ever call him "bartender" and can't be bothered to learn his name.

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

✧Night Moths

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Arthur has a simple task to do, searching for any lead possible at the Mayor's party. Only problem? You also have a job of your own. Based on “The Gilded Cage” ✦ Warnings/tags: guns, strangers to…sinners?, SMUT 18+, reader is part of a St Denis gang, cover names used at first, smoking, Arthur is extremely horny and a little rough with you (you pushed his limits), cursing, outdoor sex, fingering, tits play, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 9,8k ✦ a/n: YES. I KNOW. This is super long. I have absolutely zero excuse. I feel like this is my best piece yet, but I'm so nervous about posting it! Once again, a big thank you to the incredible @zae-heeyyy, my jedi master, my confidence-booster and patience Queen, who beta-read this big baby and helped me so much with so many things, as always. (Go check her blog I'm begging you)

Glasses are twinkling and clinking all around you. Words are spoken, laughs are let out, champagne drank.

You're leaning against one of the stoned garden walls, fancy decor of the Mayor's house, the perfectly cut bushes looking just as fresh and neat as every guest at this party. You can hear the distinguished music coming from a quartet playing under a gazebo a few meters away from you, and smell the fresh air of the night blending with aromas of flowers, expensive alcohol, hint of vanilla and sweet scents hiding a stronger note of sweat and cologne. Around you, all the richest, wealthiest, and noteworthiest of people in St Denis. You can hear them talk; their conversation as dull and superficial as an empty chrysalid, an abandoned cocoon emptied from all substance, from all interest and life.

You hated those kinds of discussions. Hated those kinds of people, the ones that have the easiest and simplest life one could ever have; being fed, being cared for, even being told what to think and do. You almost envied them in a way, they didn't have to worry about a single thing apart from losing their power. It seemed comfortable somehow, worry-free. The exact opposite of what you had always known.

And yet, you had to bear with them. A very specific task had been assigned to you by your gang. A simple job, one you were often sent off to as you had grown by the years into a great thief and a terribly efficient shapeshifter; blending into any type of party, or gathering, always making a good impression, putting people at ease. You were now an expert at this little game, especially with rich men. They were all the same, always wanting more, demanding the same thing from you. You had learned how to play with their greediness and lust to turn it into your advantage, saloons becoming your jungle as you sneaked easily between your prey to rob them, a deadly and redoubtable leopard in a world of apes.

You needed to steal some important documents from the mayor's office. The main informer of your gang had specified it was a pretty strong lead, and that you could gain a lot from it; something to do with Leviticus Cornwall's dirty deeds with the mayor, a blackmail opportunity. 

Your boss had decided to send you, knowing you would easily integrate the party, and even more easily steal the documents. So here you were, feline eyes looking all around you, scanning, observing, evaluating. You couldn't just come, steal the papers, and go; it would have been too suspicious. All the contrary, you needed to be seen and leave a good impression like you always did, maybe stay for a couple of hours, and then smoothly retrieve your goal before disappearing in the secrecy of the dark night. A flamboyant, harmless butterfly… on the surface.

You sighed, trying to pay attention to what was being said to you. Right in front of you, a middle-aged man was talking, explaining something about how he had acquired his incredible wealth. His speech was sadly boring, his eyes glum, his clothes basic, his face awfully bland.

The empty chrysalis in all its gloomy glory.

You forced yourself to nod and give the man a charming smile. This was your job. You had to at least do it properly. Why was tonight a lot harder than the others? Were you frightened to be right under the Mayor's nose, fooling him into his own home? Were you tired, or sick? 

In a way, you were. Sick of this life, of this constant pretending, of being here listening to the literal hollow vessel bragging about himself, sick of needing to appear actually interested, charmed even. 

Suddenly, the music coming from the quartet is too loud, sharp violin blending with his words, making you even less focused. You were here for too long already, you needed a break and to finish your mission.

You politely interrupted the stranger, placing a gentle hand on his forearm, a gesture that you had noticed was prompt to soften most men. Along with your most charming smile, you excused yourself from him and quickly walked to a less crowded area, praying that no one would interrupt you.

You made your way up to the exterior stairs of the luxurious mansion just before the patio door and windows, and stopped on top of them, placing your hands on the central low wall, between two Greek columns. Another fancy facade, the house itself was just an imitation from another culture. Did any of these fools have any personal identity at all?

From here, you had a good view of the whole party. Countless fake smiles, masks, a literal scene of a play that could have its place at the Théâtre Râleur. A play of pale phantom shells.

You reached for your purse, taking a cigarette out, mindlessly putting it between your lips. Maybe smoking would help. You searched for a match, silently cursing realizing you hadn't any left.

"Ya need some fire, Ma’am?"

A deep voice said behind you, making you turn, surprised. It was unusual for people to startle you, your ears had been trained to notice the faintest of footsteps in order to survive.

You got even more surprised considering who had talked. A man was standing before you. He was taller, and largely wider than you, his black suit struggling to contain what looked like a well-built body; which made you wonder how could he have been so quiet. His shoulders especially looked way broader than the men you had the habit of running into at those sorts of gatherings. A very classical white bow looked like it was strangling him. His black tailcoat and white jacket looked larger too, making you wonder how much did he had to pay for the tailor to sew them custom-made.

His hair had a soft indescribable color, somewhere between a light brown and a sandy blond. His face, the work of a brutal draftsman, rough edges and strong squared jaw gratified with some scars. One on his chin, another on his nose, nose that seemed broken now that you were thinking about it. It looked like the artist that had drawn this man had sharpened his pencils too much and traced lines in a hurry, piercing through the canvas, his features ending up rugged and scared, some trace of graphite shrapnel that would have damaged the portrait.

What disturbed you the most were his eyes. They looked out of place considering how robust his features were. One could have expected them to be dark, black even. But they were the exact opposite, their bright and soft indigo color leaving you disarmed, two sapphires locked on your own pupils.

He was handing you a match, and you slowly took it, your fingers slightly discovering how his palm felt under them. Firm, calloused.  Another stone-like feature of him.

He looked like those Greek statues carved by artists. His beauty so singular and yet enticing. So different.

"Why, thank you, kind sir." You showed your gratitude to him with a grin, lighting the match by simply rubbing it against the cold stone of the fence, a little flame appearing instantly. You brought it to your mouth, the cigarette finally catching fire, and you breathed in.

"Ya don't smoke much?" He questioned, voice deep. You hadn't noticed how deep it was the first time, nor how pronounced his accent was, dragging and drawling every word, a slow melody of his own.

"Not too often, indeed." You informed him. It was the truth, you were basically just smoking during jobs to blend in more easily, most people doing it. It was an easy way to start a conversation with anyone. Just like he had done with you, you noted.

"Needed a break from high society?" He inquired, a sarcastic tone in his voice.

"I guess you could say that." You answered, exhaling a long drag of smoke. 

You were now completely turned to face him, your cigarette making back and forth from your mouth to the air where you tossed the burned ashes with a little movement from your thumb to the cigarette’s end. Your motions were elegant, distinguished but looked natural. It caught his interest.

"What's your name, sir?" You spoke again, curious about this uncommon newcomer.

"Tacitus Kilgore. What is yours, Ma'am?" He asked you back before placing himself on your left, both of you leaning on the low fence of the patio. 

You contained a chuckle. There was no way in the World this man was named like this. You knew something was odd about him. The scars, his knuckles redden and subtly wounded as if had fought recently.  His strong stature, miles away from a lazy bourgeois being served, his wild hair longer than the actual trendy haircut, his stubble fitting more a countryman than an actual St Denis gentleman. 

Years of playing with people and observing them had made your eyes alert and expert, and you could see when someone was pretending.

When someone was playing a role just like you were, not belonging into this World.

"Rose Schultz." Of course, it wasn't your real name either. You had to be a really poor thief to give him your actual one. He didn't react to it though, his face impassible just like the start of your whole conversation.

Apart from this vague feeling you had about him not being a rich gentleman, you found trouble in reading his emotions. His facial features were closed, impenetrable, mysterious. This also disturbed you as you had the habits of figuring men out right away; he on the other hand was a whole challenge by himself, his intentions hidden behind an emotionless face. This man probably was a champion at poker.

"Nice t' meet ya, Missus Schultz. Are you, erm, hidin' from someone here? Or jus' judgin' everyone from your perch?" He went on with a more amused voice.

"Just know that I'm not the type to hide from someone, Mister." You replied, a little grin curling up your lips.

"Yeah, you sure don't look like it..."

"You wanna know what I think you look like, Mister?"

"Go ahead."

"A wild horse who's trapped, and can't wait to be freed again."

Silence. His eyes stared deeply into yours, stabbing you in sharp blue flashes of Apatite, as keen as the blade of a knife. After just a few seconds, you finally see his mouth moving, his cold expression changing as a slight grin made his way between the stillness of his features.

"You sort of a witch or somethin' ?" He asked you, amused once again. His little smile is even more evident in his eyes, his lower eyelids crinkling slightly in amusement.

"Maybe." You answered cockily, feeling more at ease with him now that he was slightly more open. 

Still, there was something that was making you feel weak in the knees; maybe it was his tall stature, his strong build, or the palpable tension you could feel beaming out from him, as if he was ready to jump on someone who would have crossed him at any second.

In a way, you liked it. It was almost exciting.

"I better not mess wi’chu then. Don't wanna end up cursed or somethin'." He joked, features relaxing, body leaning slightly more against the low wall in a more comfortable position.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare. You also look like the type of man you don't wanna mess with..."

"I'm surprised how well you already know me, darlin'." He admitted, internally enjoying your conversation more and more.

Your heart swelled at the surname. It felt so good in your ears, it sounded better than from any person who ever said it to you. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to hear him say it just to you.

"I'm kinda talented at figuring people out." You simply replied, before taking another drag at your cigarette.

"I too. And I also think you're not here to jus' play nice with everyone and enjoy yourself." He suddenly confessed to you with a knowing gaze, eyebrows raising as if he was trying to make you understand something.

He knew too. You both knew you weren't from this world, like two predators from the same species, recognizing themselves, circling, judging, from one individual to another. Your breath stopped for a very short time, nobody could have noticed it, but somehow you were sure he did.

"Don't ya worry little "rose", I won't tell no one..." 

You didn't miss how he was playing with your false name. On top of being astonishingly handsome, he had some spirit…

He's still looking intensely into your eyes. "In return, I expect you to do the same...", he added in a low voice, his tone firmer and even more resonant than earlier.

A threat. His presence only intimidates you, and it's working so well that you're almost sure he must be an expert in terrorizing too. He must be one hell of a weapon all by himself.

You slowly nodded your head, trying to swallow as naturally as possible to look unphased. 

"Guess we have a deal here, "Tacitus"." You emphasized his name, making it clear you're more than doubtful about it being real too.

It made him laugh, and you almost lost it at the sound of it. It was as deep, raw, and genuine as his entire being seemed to be. You loved it. You loved it too much.

Exhaling some smoke, you noticed he had pulled out a cigarette too and had joined your smoking, holding it between his thumb and index finger. You had mixed feelings for this man. He was just as intimidating as he was enticing, and you let your curiosity win the best of you as you carried on your conversation with him.

"I hate it here." You suddenly confessed.

 There was no point in playing anymore, and even if you didn’t really know why you had told him that, a part of you felt like maybe, just maybe, he could have understood you.

"Yeah, I get what ya mean. Sometimes I think that those people are jus'… reptiles in fancy clothin'."

You had seen right. Your chest felt light, as if he had lifted a weight in you with just those simple words.

"I just want to be anywhere else but here. Somewhere nicer, more authentic. Like in Big Valley..." You went on with your regrets.

"You too know about this place uh? Yeah, I can picture ya picking flowers in Lil’ Creek..."

This time it was your turn to chuckle, your laugh creating a little puff of smoke in the air. Was he being serious or just teasing you? You didn’t really care. Now, you felt like something special was linking you both as you knew exactly where this spot was, a happy memory brought back in your mind thanks to his words. The wild and fresh river, the meadows covered in thousands of violet flowers, the snowy mountains in the background.

Your cristal-clear laugh made him smile back at you.

"So... What does a woman like you is actually doing here, then?" He asked you, his eyes roaming all along your body while he did. 

You were glad you had put on the prettiest dress you had, its dark burgundy color matching perfectly the tone of your skin, and its generous cleavage showing a delicious amount of your chest, underlined by a black translucent shawl covering your shoulders and twirling around your arms. You were offering a tempting sight for every man. You knew he had looked at it, his eyes lingering there had almost burned your skin, sent a warm feeling between your tights, and made your hand hold your cigarette tighter.

"You really thought it would be that easy, Mister?" You answered with another cheeky grin, looking at him with a sensual gaze, your words let out in a languorous whisper, knowing damn well he was trying to gain information, probably to probe if he could get something out of it for himself. "You really thought I would just confess everything to you about myself and what I'm doing here, just because you've got a firm tone and pretty face?"

He let out a dry single chuckle, his cigarette hanging in the air, smirking some more. This damn smirk, it was making you have more and more inappropriate thoughts about this man. The wildness, the dangerousness he was emitting should have made every girl flee, but you, all the contrary, were attracted by it like a moth to a flame.

Or maybe he was the Moth. Maybe he was the beautiful, singular, and ephemeral Moth in the world of chrysalides you were searching for all along.

"Oh trust me, I could make you spit out everythin' I want, Miss." He replied to your taunting words with the serious threatening tone he had used before. "Could make this pretty mouth behave..." He added, looking right into your soul, bending slightly towards you.

You felt like the tension was about to make your whole body burst. There was something between you two, you were sure he could feel it too. A sinuous, dark creature swimming and circling incessantly under the surface of a frozen lake; waiting, craving to be unleashed, to break the thin layer of ice that was keeping it caged.

He was inviting you to measure yourself to him. Bent towards you, wanting you to close the other half of the space between you both. A challenge, or a mark of respect, the case you didn’t want to venture into this territory.

But truth was, you wanted to. You wanted to break the ice yourself, you wanted to just kiss him, right here, right now.

Of course, it was a bad idea. And you were a professional, on a mission.

Instead, you put your hand on his bicep and brought your head inches away from his, not closing the space between your mouths. You’re accepting this silent fight, excited to show him what you’re capable of. You’re enveloped by his strong scent; your lips so close to his. You can see by his widening smirk how delighted he is you didn’t change your mind nor lost your guts. Responding to your bold move, he slowly snaked an arm around your waist. His hand landed on your lower back, just on the verge of being offensive.

Both of you stayed like this for a moment, your breath mixing, merging in a dangerous and exciting cocktail, but neither of you actually crossing the limit.

He could sense just how close he was to though, his muscles were tensed under your fingers, his forehead almost resting on yours with a light frown on it. You could see in his impassive handsome face a whole new emotion. 

Pure, raw lust.

"You're such a temptatious, thorny rose..." He mumbled in a hot whisper against your lips, the warmth between your legs now burning like a wildfire. Your pussy was aching for him, and you couldn't hold it anymore.

You felt his body twitching as he was going to finally do it, finally break the ice of the frozen lake, finally let his impulses and needs break free, his unholy, deep, atrociously torturous desires-

"Ah, Arthur !" A relieved voice interrupted both of you and he immediately let go of you, his head snapping to look at the man who had talked, eyes widening.

A tall gentleman with a perfectly cut mustache as black as his long curly hair and hat was looking at your companion with a contained,  amused smile.

"Will you excuse us, Miss?" He said unctuously to you, his voice polite and charming.

It was more of a statement than a question. He quickly took one of your hands and put a polite kiss on it before bending slightly towards you, as a gentleman would, and looked at your opponent with an insistent gaze.

Arthur was fulminating. He wasn't actually showing it, his face had come back to its usual cold, emotionless expression. But you could feel from where you were the unbearable tension and frustration that was dripping from his body language, almost as a halo of warmth you could physically touch with your hands. He took a last look at you, eyes expressing a mix of regret and bitterness.

"Goodnight, Miss." He coldly greeted you, walking next to you to follow his friend and go down the stairs, his shoulder brushing against yours while doing it.

"Goodnight, Arthur..." You answered him emphasizing his name once again, making it really clear that you remembered it was not the one he had given you and that you were pretty proud you had seen right. A playful, teasing grin on your face, you look one last time at him before he vanished in the ocean of guests.

Your Butterfly had disappeared just as quickly as he had materialized; leaving you alone with the empty cocoons once more. It was more than time for you to do your job and get out of here. Your cigarette finished, now feeling cold between your fingers, you tossed it away and headed into the mansion, feeling just as frustrated as so-called Arthur.

Arthur was pissed. He had never felt so frustrated in ages, and it was making his thoughts even less easy to discipline. His cigarette was on the verge of being smoked all at once from how intense he was getting and how heavy his breath had turned, the end of it constantly burning in a red shining little point as he was walking. 

This whole year he had felt like he didn't have any control over anything anymore and he hated it.

He was already feeling embittered in his everyday life, Dutch listening less and less to his opinion, Micah sneaking around him more and more, Mary coming back to him just to ask him to help her goddamn father who had always treated him like shit. 

On top of that, Dutch had made him look like an idiot using his actual name in front of you, making him wonder what was even the whole point of having a cover if he wasn't capable of sticking to it; which he had bitterly pointed out to him, but his superior had shrugged it off, seemingly happy to be here amongst the important people, looking as careless as ever.

Yes, Arthur was feeling frustrated, frustrated and tired of this. Tonight, instead of giving of himself, he wanted to take, for once. He needed to, even. He was about to before being interrupted, and this thought was gnawing at him from the inside. 

He was barely paying attention to what Dutch was saying to him and the others once Hosea and Bill had joined them. All he could see was your insanely beautiful face, your inviting lips, the perfect outline of your breasts from your cleavage, like engraved into his pupils.

The way you were talking, charming and teasing, the way you were smoking, all of this dreadfully turning him on during all your conversation. He had made an enormous amount of effort in order not to just kiss you.

He had joked about you being a witch, but it was the only explanation: you had bewitched him, threw your darkest, most sinful curse on him. Never in his life he had felt so attracted to someone after having talked with them for only such a short amount of time. What an insane fool he was.

On top of it, he was raging about the fact he probably wouldn't have the occasion to see you ever again. He had understood you clearly weren't just another rich man's wife, and he was certain you had given him a false name. His cock was throbbing terribly hurtfully in his pants, making his jaw clench, his brows frowning even more than usual. It was begging to be buried in you, between your legs, in your mouth, or your hands, even your breasts or your ass, anything but the cold feeling of nothingness he was feeling right now around it.

The sudden explosive sound and colorful lighting of fireworks had pulled him out of his blasphemous thoughts. 

He understood Dutch was ordering him something about following one of the Mayor's domestic, and gladly obliged, relieved to have another thing to focus on. Something about Cornwall sending an important letter to Lemieux, which he had to steal. Nothing difficult, he had done those sorts of things countless times. 

Nothing new. 

Nothing puzzling, like you had been.

As he followed the man, eyes locked on his white suit from afar, he quickly took a glance at the patio to see if you were still there. You weren't. His dick ached as he let out a deep exhale. Damn it.

Arthur rapidly found himself inside the Mayor's house. His servant had entered what looked like an office. He waited a few seconds after the room had felt silent, behind the corner of the walls, just to be sure, and entered it.

The room was indeed an office, a little desk with an armchair on his left, bookcases covering every wall, simply illuminated by a flickering orange lamp. Everything looked normal, except for the dark figure of a person in the middle of the place.

You.

He recognized your sensual dress immediately and witnessed you shoving some papers in what looked like a leathered little pocket held around your right thigh by leathered straps, just like a holster would be. His mind raced, a million reflections flying under his eyes. 

You were some sort of professional thief. And he didn’t have to be a genius to understand you had just taken the precise thing he was there for.

"That's why you were here, lil' rose?!" He asked you almost in disbelief, closing the door behind him.

You looked at him with a bold grin, looking almost amused by the situation. He, on the other hand, felt nothing but amusement. Anger, to have been fooled so easily, and that you had got ahead of him, losing the quiet game that had been played out between you. Envy, as you were now possessing two things he wanted to take away from you. Arousal, as his eyes were glued to the thigh that was now visible to his greedy eyes as you had pulled up your dress to put the sheets in your hidden pocket. Need, as his member felt hard again just by the sight of you doing it.

"Yeah, and you can only dream for me to give them to you if those papers were your target too, Arthur."

Damn, that teasing, cheeky mouth of yours. His fantasies came back in full force, and his gaze darkened. As temptatious as you were, he needed those documents. And he would do anything he had to to have them back.

"Give ‘em to me." He lowly ordered you, voice so severe you could have melted right into the carpeted floor of this damn office. But you didn't.

"Hell no."

"Give ‘em t’me, woman. I won't ask nicely a third time."

"If you want them, you'll have to catch me, pretty boy."

Lord, why was everyone so prompt to call him this way lately? He almost grunted at the way you had said it, and he would have lied if this time he didn't like it when it fell from your lips. He wanted to reply with something witty and even more threatening, but in a flash, you had opened the window, and easily jumped outside.

This Goddamn woman. What was she exactly? Some sort of feline? Yeah, probably a panther, agile, impressive, dangerous like one.

He instantly ran after you, jumping through the window too, landing in a loud thud. He quickly spotted your dress running away, escaping by the entry’s portal, then in the nearest street, disappearing behind St Denis's myriad of flashing lights. 

How could he had missed it? His mind was filled with images of it.

He had the common decency of grabbing back his gun from the butler at the party's entry, making him almost fall on the ground as he hadn't slowed but had grabbed them while running, the poor man wondering what the Hell made both of these people in such a hurry.

He was now flying at full speed around the luxurious streets, following the faint glimpse of your dress's color at the corner of every turn. He felt like he could follow your scent like a hunting dog, your sweet and peachy perfume confirming him you had passed there before.

He had enough, feeling his restrain and manners crackling more and more into little pieces. You were making him feel like a damn animal, reducing his whole being to primal needs and functions. He should have been disgusted with himself for that. But all he could do right now was thinking about the damn documents hidden against your damn alluring thigh.

"Stop now, you Goddamn... Evil woman!" He tried to call you out, but you just wouldn't stop. He started firing at you, getting angrier and more fed up by the second, a bullet exploding a piece of the bricked wall right next to your head, some splinters cutting slightly the top of your ear.

You bent over to dodge his bullets one more time and you heard him cursing again loudly behind you. On top of being big, strong and clever, he was fast. In a quick movement of your feet, shaking them, you removed your shoes, unable to run at your fastest speed with heels. You continued your frenzied course, way more at ease.

Arthur rushed in where you were just mere seconds after you, noticing the shoes abandoned on the floor. What the Hell was even this woman, he asked himself for the second time this evening. Some sort of temptatious, dark retelling of Cinderella?

He almost made himself laugh at the thought, understanding your move because his own polished shoes were frankly a pain to run with, making him slip with every shift as if he was walking on soap and regret his good old boots, before acknowledging he had lost your trace.

Shit!

He looked all around him, his eyes scanning every inch, his breath rapid and sharp, his forehead and neck a pool of sweat. No signs of you, unless... 

Something fell right on his face, but gently, as a caress from a fresh breeze. Your perfume filled up his nostrils and lungs and it made his heart race. He took it in his hands, the sensations pleasant under his fingerprints. 

It was your black shawl.

Tilting his head up, he found you.

You were making your way up to the roof of the town by climbing on a thin ladder.

Arthur exhaled deeply through his nose like a buffalo. He was used to this kind of high-speed chase, but this was a whole new thing, which made him regret his lasso too, his hand searching for it on his belt out of habit but closing on nothing. 

Damned party, damned suit, damned you. 

He climbed after you, refusing to give up, enraged like a wild beast. 

He would catch you, dead or alive.

In a way, this was making him even more aroused than any work-girl show he had ever seen.

"I'm going to kill ya, that's a promise!"

You could hear just how furious his voice was now, and you were starting to pray you would flee successfully from him, cause you knew he would eat you alive if he could get his hands on you.

Arriving on top of the building, you caught your breath for a microsecond, before searching for a way out, gaze frantic, heart beating out of your chest. You were considering climbing to another roof, but the deep, breathless sounds of your pursuer prevented you from doing more thinking.

Arthur had reached the top of the roof too, and was already aiming his gun at you. This time he didn't even bother to say anything, shooting at you again while getting up. He was so seething you wouldn’t have been surprised to see saliva bubbling from his mouth.

By divine intervention, you dodged again, and without any thinking, you ran all the way to the edge of the roof, and jumped.

You stayed in the air for a few seconds.

You felt like time had stopped, the air brushing against your skin, your heart hanging somewhere between the sky and the total void.

You landed on a fancy and illuminated balcony a few meters away. You hurt your feet and legs with the shock, but smiled proudly to yourself. You were out of reach, he was way bigger and way heavier than you, there was no way he coul-

A gigantic mass fell on you, as Arthur had proved you wrong and jumped from the roof you had just left and was crashing directly into you. 

Both of you fell on the ground and struggled for a few seconds; you tried to resist him but it was a fight already lost, this literal force of nature easily handling you like he wanted. 

You ended up lying on your back, Arthur sitting on you, towering over you with all his might, quickly grabbing your wrists to prevent you from fighting, his legs parted around your hips stopping you from escaping. You were trapped.

"You're a pain in the ass girl, you know that?!" He shouted at you, breathless, raging mad. You were both panting, sweating heavily. His face was entirely red, and your cheeks even more crimson.

You both looked at each other, eyes locked, and you stayed silent. The dark creature prowling under the thin floe had returned and it was getting bigger, stronger, out of control with each passing second. There was something extremely erotic in the way he was almost lying on top of you, both of you out of breath, sweaty, and burning red, both your hearts beating at full speed in the same erratic rhythm.

Just like before at the reception, you knew he could feel it too. You knew it from the dark gaze he was looking at you with, the shady swirls of the murky leviathan reflecting in the depths of his pupils, from the deepest well of his urges, forbidden territory to which no man ever had access.

A simple touch of his hand, that's all it took.

He put both of your hands into a single one of his, using his other one to pull up your dress, fingers roaming on your thigh.

You couldn't hold it anymore, you bent toward him and slammed your lips against his in the most powerful and decadent kiss you had ever shared with someone, almost biting him.

The moment you did, Arthur's mind exploded, and every poor drop of restrain he had evaporated as quickly as if it was on the Sun's surface. The beast had won, finally shattering the weak layer of ice into a million pieces; your two souls blending in what could have felt like a fevered dream.

The grunt he let out onto your kiss was animalistic, and the tension in his body just as powerful as a waterfall with a brutal, unstoppable current. The hand that was holding your wrist let go of it and slipped under your head, fingers in your hair, as his tongue licked against your lips, searching for a way in. You let him in, eagerly, wondering if he would have forced the way if you didn’t. 

He tasted strong, as if to match his whole being, a powerful flavor of tobacco, merged with a faint trace of sweetness and bitterness from the champagne he had drank. Like if you were smoking the finest and strongest of cigars. It made you love it even more.

Abandoning all your restraints too, your hands wrapped around his neck and your hips started pushing up against his, even if you couldn't move much, his two muscular thighs keeping you grounded to the balcony's paved floor. It felt so cold against your back, contrasting with the heat Arthur was burning with, consuming, devastating, raging.

He growled again when he felt your movement under him. He needed more of you, right now. This whole seduction game, the adrenaline rose by the chase, your bold charming attitude, your insanely insolent beauty, it was making him insane. He roughly ripped off his bowtie with one hand, needing some air; it felt like you two were under the desert’s scorching sun, stifling, dazing. 

The right hand he had on your thigh traveled even higher under your dress, devouring every inch of flesh it could, and his appetite was only getting worse the more he discovered you. He smoothly moved his legs from around yours to put himself between them, and you instantly, almost from instinct, hooked them around his hips.

The sudden contact of your blazing core against his equally hot bulge made you sigh in pleasure, and he loved it. Breaking your kiss for the first time since you had initiated it, he pulled back to look at you, his deep gaze devouring you, undressing you just by its stare. 

“What’s your real name?” He asked you, voice hoarser than ever, demanding it from you.

You told him your name, limbs feeling like mush under his intense eyes. He repeated it quietly, like a prayer he would recite on his own. You felt less and less like the panther you thought you were, and more and more like he was the predator alone. In a shaking tone, you questioned back to know his full, real name, needing to know what words you’d have to whisper in gratitude when he would finally take what he wanted from you. To whisper, or shout to the Heavens.

“Arthur Morgan.” He let out, his lips quickly returning to their current addiction, your skin. The way they were attacking your neck didn’t have an ounce of control now, his mouth opening widely to almost take a whole bite of your flesh there, letting kisses everywhere it could.

“Tell me if you don’t want this.” He added against your skin, between two greedy open-mouth kisses.

A way to escape. The predator stilling, letting a way out. But you didn't wanted it. Not at all. Not now that he had surrendered to you, trusting you with the intimacy of his real name, that would be stuck in your mind for God knows how long.

“I want it.” You asserted, voice almost cracking with the weight of your need.

He moaned a relieved sound in answer, his nose exhaling some air that tickled your neck.

You weren’t even sure he could stop himself if you had said no. He was consuming you, and he felt completely drunk, as if you were coated with a powerful whiskey. Strong alcohol that his tongue was now licking all the way from your shoulder, up to your ear.

You moaned, the feeling of his hungriness so good and perfect on you.

"Gonna take care of ya now." He growled in a rumbling whisper, making your legs feel weak. Another one of his promises, but this one was going to give you salvation, and you were thanking him for keeping it. 

The bold hand he had under your dress took another step towards insanity by landing on your undergarments, his thick fingers searching for a way in. You were trembling with anticipation. You couldn't even register the fact that you were really doing this, right now, with a complete stranger you had met only a few hours ago, and who wanted to kill you minutes before, on the balcony of what looked like a habited place.

The obscenity, the depravation, the boldness of it was only matched by his relentless thirst for you.

His fingers had finally pulled your underwear to the side, and you sighed seeing him on top of you, eyes drawn to your bare pussy, carnal features empathized by the obscurity of the night. The tip of his fingers traveled amongst your folds, wolves into the forest, a territory they were now claiming as theirs.

You almost begged for him, for the wolves to eat you up all and let nothing behind them, please Arthur, and he offered you this damnation, the desperate call of his name igniting another fire in his already infernal mind. A single, calloused finger pushed into your folds, making you spread your legs even more to grant it better access. It was stretching you pleasantly, his skin rough and firm inside. You started letting out sweet, quiet moans, showing him just how much you were enjoying this.

Your two hands now gripping his back, holding on for something, anything, his dark jacket suddenly feeling way too smooth to grab onto; you were wondering how touching his naked back could feel.

Arthur was doing everything in his power not to burst once more, grunting in response to your loving sound. Slowly, he pushed another one, thriving in how wet and hot your cunt felt around his fingers, craving for the moment he would finally be able to feel this downright perfection around his cock. He felt like he was ruining you, throwing you to these wolves, and you were thanking him for it.

For now, he focused on you, blue eyes glued on your face when he started curling his digits inside of you, searching for this so special, so delightful spot within your walls. He was observant, noticing every sound you were making, every muscle tensing, to know if it was the place you liked that he was brushing right now. Wanting it to be the place you liked most.

By adding his thumb on your clit and pushing a little deeper his index and middle finger in your desperate pussy, he realized he finally had found the Graill as your back arched against the ground, your own hands gripping harder on him, eyes shutting in pure pleasure.

"Oh, God! Yes, right there..." You rewarded him, voice high-pitched and filled with delight, a tingling sensation spreading on your legs and shoulders.

He exhaled deeply, your words making his own member gorging, pressing against the fabric of his suit that felt too small to contain him. He started pushing in and out, pulling a whine out of your throat with every movement, as the thick tip of his fingers rubbed against your sweet spot every time, wolves once again in a world of sweetness and honey, lapping your delight, feasting on your pleasure.

“Told ya I would make this pretty mouth behave…” He said cockily after one of your moans. He was enjoying this all too much, finally feeling in control again, being the one and only responsible for your ecstasy. 

The distance between his mouth and you seemed to be unacceptable for him as he had succumbed once more to his needs, his lips finding your skin again, tongue tasting, teasing your chest this time, everywhere he could on the cleavage he had desired since the first time he had laid eyes on you tonight. Bent over to you, looking like a curved beast feasting on its prey.

You were feeling your pleasure building, Arthur’s face hungrily searching for one of your nipples under the neckline of your dress, and sucking it once he had finally found it. His teeth and nose had pulled your dress, freeing your entire left breast, bare, defenseless in front of him. 

Maybe he was the wolf himself. He sure looked like it, his face a maw fed by your soft flesh.

Every nerve of your pussy screamed for deliverance, this familiar sensation taking form in your lower stomach. Your moans were becoming even more high-pitched, breathless, almost obscene, much to the outlaw's delight.

You had thought of him before being a terribly efficient and multi-functional weapon. You couldn’t have known just how right you had been, your hardening nipple still chewed by his mouth while his right hand was sending you to your edge, thumb skillfully circling on your clit faster and faster, the two other fingers tearing apart your sweet spot, in and out, in and out, again and again, until…

“A-Arthur, don’t stop, please!” Your voice slit the night open, tone pleading as if you were begging for your life.

“I won’t girl, it’s all okay… Give it t’me…” He encouraged you, even his breath feeling rough against the skin of your chest before he sucked hard on the skin of one of your breasts, accompanying you to your salvation.

It was enough to send you over your limit, your pussy clenching, throbbing, entirely consumed. You moaned so loudly it could have turned into a scream, hips jerking against his palm, his other hand quickly grabbing your hip to steady you and carry you through it as his fingers were dragging every last drop of your pleasure out of you. 

“Yeahhh, that’s it gorgeous, just like that…”

He was frowning, the sinful sensations of your wet cunt coating his fingers in a warm slick and tensing around them making his eyebrow and jaw just as tensed, his face just a hint of how fucking riled up he was because of it.

Your head was still spinning and your breath uneven when he finally pulled his digits out of your walls, the fresh air replacing them. Lost in your haze, you weren't capable of doing anything else but looking at him through lidded, heavy eyes.

He was absolutely beautiful, even more than at the start of the night. His true nature out at last, his white fancy shirt disheveled now that he had removed his bowtie and soaked from efforts. Cheeks and throat as red as a sanguine sunset. Pearls of sweat sparkling on his burning skin with the Ocean of street lights of St Denis, reminding you of a night sky, making his sandy hair stick to his forehead in the hottest way possible. 

You didn't knew how could all this had escalated so quickly, but at that moment, you felt like this man before you was your whole universe, his deep ultramarine eyes completing the stellar work of art he was, shining, shimmering, more than any star in the sky, as if the Gods had capture the entire Milky Way and imprisoned it in his being.

Arthur had ultimately pulled his cock out of his black suit pants, only piece of flesh out of his clothes, and your thoughts were immediately contradicted; there was no way any virtuous God could have made a man so depraved. He was the work of the Other Side, Lust and Temptation personified. King of the wolves, he could have had all the Hounds of Hell kneeling before him.

He pumped himself a few times, unable to resist the call his member had been screaming for hours, reinforced by the way his fingers had tasted your wet cavern. Some precum had already leaked from his big pinkish head when he was fingering you and was now glistening in the night, making you think about the stars again. Your breath got caught at this sight and you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a praise.

"Perfect..." You simply stated in a whisper, eyes glued to his throbbing, veiny member, relieved he had already pulled an orgasm out of you because there was no way he could have fit in you otherwise. Your eyes followed the dark path of his hair, from the glimpse you had on his chest between the open collar of his shirt, all the way down to his pelvis and at the base of his shaft. 

You could only imagine what it looked like without any clothes on, and you were dying to know.

"Trust me, you're the perfect one, darlin'." He asserted, firm tone leaving little to contradiction. 

He positioned himself in front of your entrance.

You weren't even completely back from the world your first relief had brought you to, and he was already at your door again. But this time, Arthur couldn’t stop himself.

He had given once again, just like always. Now he wanted to take. He needed to take. The starving, depraved wolf. Slowly pushing, teasing himself, making his cock’s head sink into your dripping territory, creating wet and soggy sounds, a hardened spear into honey. 

He couldn't hold back a baritone moan, the feeling was even better than what he remembered. He hadn't taken the time or allowed himself to lay with a woman in ages, and God, what a return to this primal bliss.

He slowly moved some more, his hands spreading your legs a bit wider from around his waist to allow him to penetrate you more easily. Once you had entirely enveloped him, his tip deep inside, he let out another deep throaty grunt, the feeling making it hard for him to keep his thoughts clear. 

"Ahh... Shit, darlin’... So tight…"

Considering how his length was stretching you, you bet he felt your pussy tight. The first word that came into your mind was “complete”. So complete with his huge cock inside of you; you felt like you could have died happily like this. One of your hands slipped from the top of his back to the lower part of it, just above his ass, pressing there, showing him just how much you wanted him to move, to let go. 

Arthur didn't need much more as he pulled back slowly only to snap his hips back against yours, his cock pushing again all the way through your cunt in one hard single time, giving you another wave of pleasure as you both moaned together, unable to resist the intense sensation he was creating for both of you.

Hearing you whine, finally feeling your perfectly tight and warm pussy around him, it was making him lose all sense of restraint, and as your other hand ran through his hair, your angelic voice whispering his name as if he was your Lord and savior, he lost it. 

He started to pull in and out of you faster, harder, your bodies colliding in a delicious way, obscene noises echoing through the silence of the darkness. His increase in pace made your body scream in pleasure and you buried your face into the crook of his neck under the collar of his shirt, biting his skin there.

It made him grunt loudly, and one of his hands roamed from your hips to your rear, grabbing a fistful of your ass in an instinctive response. His other hand was on the ground next to you, keeping him from crushing you against it. It made your head blank with pleasure.

"Shit, Arthur! M-more!" You begged, feeling like you could die if he stopped, your voice turning into high squeals.

"Anhh- God... More? Don’t worry girl, I'll g-give you more...-Mmh!" 

His voice was heavy with pleasure, words cut off by moans and grunts you were delighted to hear, the most unholy and arousing music you had ever had the honor to listen to.

True to his words, he obliged, hips thrusting endlessly, member empaling you with each move. You could feel the flesh of his pelvis against yours with how deep he dived into you, and around it the stiffness of his suit, rubbing again the breast he had pulled out of your dress before, nipple sensitive after his previous treatment. 

If what was between you was once a frozen lake, it had now turned into an Ocean of lava, magma exploding, engulfing both of you in the most burning and devastating passion you'd ever experienced, a volcanic explosion of desires.

The hand he had on your asscheek reluctantly let go of it, but you ended up thanking him for it, cause he was now using it to put your left leg above his shoulder, grabbing under your knee, allowing him to fuck you in an even better angle than before. He was ruining you once again, but this time felt like the pack of starving enraged wolves had taken him with you to consume him entirely.

You leaned against the floor, back of your head feeling the paved coldness, only hint that everything was actually real. Arthur's eyes locked with yours as he kept on fucking you hard and fast, this intimate contact making his member twitch.

You felt so goddamn good around him, and looked so goddamn gorgeous like this, your cheeky grin long gone, replaced by a delightful frown of pleasure, mouth open in a quiet scream. Arthur felt his peak coming dangerously close, but his pace hadn't slowed, his fat cock thrusting in and out of you. In and out, like a furious, sacred metronome. In an out, like a blessed psalm you'd both be reciting together.

“Come on girl, I know you have another, -Damn it!-, another one in ya. Give it to me, come on, jus’ for me…”

Words and voice drowned in a flood of pleasure and curses, of deep grunts and growls, his possessiveness sending you over the edge once again, your inside closing its trap around him, squeezing just how he needed to.

His eyes shut close, eyebrows furrowing in utter pleasure as he sank so hard and deeply you could have felt him splitting your guts in half, his dick throbbing and harder than ever. It reached a spot so deep and good inside of you, burning it, your pleasure bursting as you felt your orgasm coming for the second time.

"A-Arthur!" You cried out as you came around him, creaming him, walls clenching in a delicious sensation that made him reach the stars.

"God, damn it!" He shouted, voice deeper and rougher on the curse word before quickly removing himself from you in a flash of lucidity, finishing messily, cum spilling from his red sensitive member in white spurts that ended up right on your belly as a feral, powerful growl escaped his chest and his head tilted backward, letting you see his throat covered in sweat and veins.

For a moment, both of you had turned into beasts, shattered all the limits, broke all the shackles, diminishing you into your more primitive instincts. The Wolves of Lust had devoured your being into the very last delicious bone.

And that’s how you felt. Boneless.

Now, stillness. A cold breeze enveloped the pair of you, the only sounds now being the distant agitation of the city and your pantless breaths. He slowly brought his chin back down and opened his eyes, mesmerized by the sight of you returning from the realm of pure pleasure he had provided for you for the second time.

He felt powerful. He felt good. Better than he had for months, finally satisfied. Like a God, a King. King of all the Wolves, Cerberus, the only guardian of your unholy realm.

He wanted to do this again with you, as soon as possible.

He carefully put his softening dick back in its clothed cage, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his pants as he felt completely spent, his hands shaking slightly. He wanted to help you get cleaned up, but you had already brushed what you could of his release off your dress. 

It would probably leave stains on your clothing nevertheless. 

A twisted, dark part of him, the part that came from the same pit as the dark creature and the Wolves, felt almost aroused and proud at the thought you would keep an imprint of him on it. This part was relishing noticing the big ruby mark it had left on your breast as you were putting it back under your neckline; he grinned to himself knowing it would make your memories of him more difficult to forget. 

He didn't want you to forget.

He slowly got up, offering you his hand to help you stand. You quickly put back your dress in its usual state, and wiped the sweat off your forehead. A silence settled between you two, thousands of questions floating in the air, but none of you ready to ask them out loud yet.

Finally, as you started shivering, only realizing now how cold this night was without Arthur's burning hot body on top of you, he spoke, voice even hoarser from having pushed on it too much, accent making every world sound heavy when they fell from his mouth.

"When can I see you again?" More than a demand, a promise. An order even. Cerberus needs his territory.

You already knew he kept them; his promises. Except for the one he had made to kill you. But in a way, he did, because you felt like you wouldn’t be able to ever feel so alive again without him. 

Like a condemnation.

"You won't." 

Certainty in your voice. But he didn't mind it. He had already broken you before.

"Oh, but I think I will, darlin'." Was all he said before stepping over the fence of the balcony, ready to jump off it. Before doing it, he pulled something out of his jacket and waved it at you.

The fucking papers.

A lightning of understanding and panic struck you; what you had thought was a lustful touch on your thigh, the one that had set everything on fire between the both of you, that had unleashed the Wolves, was in reality his sneaky hand retrieving the document from your hidden pocket.

Shit!

He gave you his cocky grin, blue gaze sparkling with mischief, greeting you with a two finger’s salute then jumped, disappearing in the night, away from you once again. You could have gone after him, as much as your weak and spent body would have allowed you to, but somehow, after all that he had done to you tonight, you felt like he had well deserved those damned letters.

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries credits: Arthur's pic is not mine, belongs to fv8tt on Pinterest. Dividers and little moths doodle by me.

I reall hope you liked this one! I'm thinking about writing another part where the reader could confront Arthur again... Tell me if you'd like that! -Pine 🌱

[bbydoll18xx]

How Do I Get to Heaven?

'Without changing a piece of me, how do I get to heaven?'

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Themes: angst, slurs, religious trauma, HAPPY ENDING i promise

A/N: hiii so this one is super angsty and sad. I've been going through a rough time, and this is my way of coping. I kinda touched on these subjects in 'She's Such a Good Girl' part 2, and this is similar. I was obsessed with 'Heaven' by Troye Sivan when I was like 15-16 and the lyrics hit a little too hard. If you're gay and were raised in a religious household, I suggest taking a listen.

~

“He’s a fuckin’ faggot!”

“Hate the sin, love the sinner.”

“Those kinds of people are going straight to hell.”

Your face remained neutral. It had to. But you had years of practice, and while you were internally sobbing at the bigoted remarks, there was nothing you could do to stop it. So you stayed quiet, and you maintained your usual look of disinterest. 

Running up the stairs, you finally make it into the safehaven of your bedroom. You shut the door quietly, trying to avoid seeming as if anything is wrong or out of the ordinary. Nothing could possibly be wrong. You were the perfect child; straight As, never in trouble, and you always were eager to help out around the house. But you were harboring a dirty little secret that threatened to rip you from the grips of being the golden girl of your family. 

Sobs wracked your body as you slid onto the carpeted floor of your room. What had started off as an innocent dinner had turned into a nightmare. Slurs were thrown around casually, and unbeknownst to your family, you were the unidentified target. Your sexuality was the reason you had become an empty shell of a person, riddled with fear of accidentally outting yourself. And the anxieties you felt were bubbling up, threatening to ruin the perfect image of yourself that you had crafted for your loved ones. 

This wasn’t the first time. And it surely would not be the last. 

Your family had always claimed to love you. Your childhood was a happy one, but you feared the truth would break everyone. And even if they found out and still claimed to love you, you knew they would always see you differently. Gone would be the girl they knew, and their eager touts would be replaced with hushed whispers. You’d forever be known as “the gay one.” And you fucking resented that.

So here you sat on the floor, trying to quiet your sobs as you mourned the loss of the life you once knew and the people who would eventually turn their backs to you. 

Summer was ending, and soon you would be fleeing back to college, where your guard could be let down just enough to show the world a glimpse of who you really were and who you really wanted to love. 

There was just one girl who you wanted to love you back.

Paige Bueckers was your best friend. And she was so very gay. 

Since meeting her at the beginning of freshman year, she had pulled you out of a darkness that had resided in you since you had realized your feelings towards girls. It did not take long for you to fall madly, head-over-heels in love with her, but you had vowed to ignore it. 

Even if there was any hope of reciprocated feelings, you knew deep down that being in love with a girl would mean having to come out to your family. And you were just not ready for that. You weren’t sure if you would ever be ready for that. 

The thought terrified you. You knew you were willingly inhibiting a possibility of incredible happiness and love, but because it was at the risk of losing your loved ones, you were shutting it all out. 

‘Fuck. I really need therapy,’ you think miserably. 

That was the understatement of the century.

~

The new school year starts, and Uconn’s campus is ablaze with excited students and the possibilities of what is to come. You are finally starting to feel like yourself again, and the second your parents leave your apartment, you don a t-shirt plastered with Diana Taurasi’s face on it. 

You could finally get your gay card back.

A loud knock rings through the empty apartment, and before you could get to the door to answer it, Paige is peeking her head through it, a huge grin covering her face. 

She wastes no time barreling through the room, sweeping you up in a hug and spinning you around. Your feet leave the ground, causing your stomach to flip, and your legs automatically wrap around her waist for leverage. 

“Someone missed me,” you giggle, feeling breathless from being back in Paige’s tight embrace. You had been dreaming of this since you last saw her, back in July. 

“Course I did,” she chuckles, voice muffled against your hair. “You glad to be back?”

You groan. “Fuck, yeah I am. Lookin’ forward to not hearing some slurs for a bit,” you say, fist-pumping the air with a dramatic roll of the eyes. “And I’m especially looking forward to not having to listen to Fox fuckin’ News,” you add, pretending to gag.

Paige’s eyes rake over you, and she pouts, already knowing how your family could be. She had listened to your endless rants and your pathetic cries for the past three years. 

“I think you should just move in with me after this year ends. That way you don’t have to put up with that shit. Then we can be together after graduation,” she says earnestly. 

This was not the first time she had proposed this idea. And while you were internally jumping at the idea, the fear of how it would look to your family made you shy away. Paige wasn’t exactly the most straight-looking girl. Living with her would make things complicated. Your covert feelings had no place in a situation like that. 

You sigh. “I’ll think about it, P,” you promise, linking your pinky with hers, as you always did. 

~

Christmas break quickly rolls around, and Paige’s words are still playing in the back of your mind. Your feelings for her had grown, as if that was even possible, and having to leave her and the safety and warmth that came with her, was agonizing. 

Sitting against the hard back of the pew in your family’s Catholic church, you look around, thinking about how these people would be okay with you burning in hell forevermore. The familiar feeling of shame creeps back into your chest, the flames licking at your wounds. 

You wanted to run and hide. You wanted Paige. 

The Christmas activities persist, and amongst the holiday cheer and piles of gifts, uncomfortable conversations emerge, and you shrink back to your room, desperate for respite.

You felt so fucking abandoned. This was supposed to be a time to enjoy with your family, and instead you were hiding.

There was one person, though, you knew would not abandon you, and that was Paige. Her presence was enough to lessen the sting of the inevitable rejection of your family, and in that moment, it was enough. 

Pulling out your phone, you dial her number, longing to hear her voice, all the way from Montana. Christmas break could not end quickly enough. 

Paige’s smiling face is soon on your phone screen, but it falls as soon as she sees the tears falling down your cheeks and your wobbling bottom lip.

“Oh, baby, what happened?” She asks in a hushed whisper, voice full of anger and concern. 

“They hate me,” you cry. “They fucking hate me, and they don’t even know it yet.”

Paige sighs, trying to find the right words. While she had always had acceptance from those around her, she knew how difficult it was for you to be at home, and she desperately wished to take away your anguish. 

“I love you,” she stresses. “And I know that doesnt fix your family treating you like shit, but soon you’ll be back and everything won’t seem as shitty, I promise.” 

You nod, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. 

She loved you. And you knew that. But you wanted her to love you in the way you loved her. For now, you would take what you could get.

“Just a few more days,” she assures, and you feel the tiniest bit better.

Just a few more days. 

~

The start of the new year always engenders change, and you had promised yourself as the clock chimed to signify it was midnight that this would be the year you would hike up your big girl panties and figure out your shit with Paige. Your senior year had to slow down, and Paige’s proposal had been in the back of your mind since August. 

If you could get over your stupid crush on her, things would be all good and dandy, but your efforts to eradicate her place in your heart were futile. You had mused it over nearly a million times. Maybe you’d eventually get over her, and maybe she would have some bizarre habit that would inevitably give you the ick, ridding you of all romantic feelings toward her. 

You could only hope. 

You pump yourself up on the way over to Paige’s apartment, encouraging words forming on your lips, leaving a trail of fog from your warm breath against the cold air. 

You knock on her door, cheeks pink from the frigid temperatures of Connecticut in January, grateful that it hides your blush. Paige opens the door, eyes wide and hopeful. She always looked so damn alluring. 

Your words leave your mouth before your chary mind could overtake you. “I want to move in with you after school ends. I can’t go back to living like that.”

Paige’s features twist into a smile, and she pulls you in for a hug. “Gonna take such good care of you,” she whispers, and you believe her. Your arms wrap around her middle, anchoring you to the floor. 

“I should probably tell you, though,” she trails, her voice getting smaller as she takes a deep breath. 

You look up at her, confusedly. “Tell me what?”

“I love you. And not just like as a friend. So if you don’t want to live with me because of that, I get it,” she mumbles, eyes trained on the floor.

Your breath quickens at the realization. Paige loved you. And the thought of being a colossal disappointment to your family and potentially cast out did not seem to matter as much anymore. Because here was someone who loved every part of you and accepted the good, the bad, and the ugly. 

The look of shock swiftly morphs into one of unbridled euphoria, and without another thought, you pull Paige in for a kiss. It was filled with the pure longing and want of years of uncontrollable urges and repressed thoughts, and it nearly made all the shittiness worth it.

Pulling away, Paige links her pinky with yours again, just as she had back in August. It was an unspoken promise of love. And while you knew the journey would be inexorably difficult, Paige was worth it in the end. 

~

dang that was rough lol but thanks for reading as always:) I really hope this wasn't too triggering or anything for anyone. This has been such a nice outlet for my pain and anger, as I really don't have anyone to talk to about this stuff. I am here for everyone who can relate. My inbox is open if you guys ever want/need to talk

xoxo katy

[quimichi]

-ˏˋ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ CRUSH HDCS ࿐ྂ Pt. 1.....

WARNING: × pure fluff in my opinion

SUMMARY: just some idiots with a crush...you :)

CHARACTERS: Aether, Albedo, Al-haitham, Amber, Arlecchino, Ayaka, Ayato & Baizhu x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.537

AETHER

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Paimon is so done with his constant ranting and crying about you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 She had to stop herself from telling you so often like "Just PLEASE date him already" because she couldn't just fall into her besties back like that

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you would think he doesn't really like you cause he's all quite. Wrong, he actually jusz tries to cope with his rising heat and nervousness around you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he once tell you that you smell nice even tho you were sweating lile a sinner in church? Yes

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he also tell you that you look a bit different and like you haven't slept good after a haircut?...yes

ᯓᡣ𐭩 listen, he was concerned for you-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 everything was so embarrassing for him he thought you hate him now--- well, you didn't. Its hard not to find this weird and awkward ball of sunshine nice

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he also helps you out a lot, no matter whats the issue he's ready to help. And Paimon is the third wheel

ᯓᡣ𐭩 sometimes when he's nervous and talks to you he like suddenly needs to swallow down spit cause it gets stuck in his throat?? Idk how to explain it but i have this issue lol and its so hard to cover up the swallowing cause then people know youre nervous-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 literally once walked into a wall because he was looking at you. Luckily no one saw...except Paimon--she won't let him forget that ever

ᯓᡣ𐭩 speaking of Paimon, bro literally asked her for advice, and she was useful? Hey, look. Shes more than just emergency food-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she was like, "If you truly love someone, you cook them something good! Love goes through the stomach!"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and thats why he desperately cooks for you every day---just put Paimon out of her misery and kiss him already

ALBEDO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how and why it happened but he won't complain, you are pretty so-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 kinda takes it as an opportunity to study love a bit lol. Its not like he's dumb, far from that, he knows what hes feeling and why he feels attracted to you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but somehow he can't tell you, words fail him to explain why although he knows

ᯓᡣ𐭩 is confused and is irritated lol

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did tell Succrose about it and my girl can hardly keep secrets-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh and like around a week after he noticed his crush on you he confessed

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's pretty blunt and honest, straightforward if you will.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 there's honestly not much to say, he knows he likes you, also probably knows it's mutual, logic conclusion would be that he confesses so you two can consider a relationship after some time

ᯓᡣ𐭩 easy??? Like what's not to get???

AL-HAITHAM

ᯓᡣ𐭩 the strongest feeling he ever had for someone else was a book character-and that's also pretty rare cause he doesn't read fiction he only reads facts-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 treats you normally with a sprinkle of kindness

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you don't notice, no one would notice. Good for Al-Haitham cause ew what if people realize hes just a regular human being?? Can't have that

ᯓᡣ𐭩 would tell you to take breaks and eat an apple or other fruits in those breaks so you can concentrate better afterwards. Oh and take a breath of fresh air

ᯓᡣ𐭩 keeps the bitch face on. Only drops it when you're not looking.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 finds it incredibly cute when you play with your hair or bite your lip. Your concentration is adorable...

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you read like him, he would consider reading one of your favorite books, even if it's stupid and not his thing at all. He wants a good reason to talk to you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how to get out of the "I'm so fucking cool" bs to actually get closer to you without seeming cringe or needy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 feelings aren't his thing but hey, he trys. Just pay more attention and maybe you make it easier for him by doing the first step

AMBER

ᯓᡣ𐭩 nah cause she's so honest about it-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 probably all Mondstadt and their granny's know that Amber has a crush on you, except for you....dumbass

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she always asks you if you wanna join her on god knows what adventures

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she also always packs lunch for you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 like i said, she is pretty vocal about it and shows it quite well that she has an interest in you....and youre just brushing it off as kindness

ᯓᡣ𐭩 always ready to help! And she doesn't even need a thank you. Helping you is enough to make her happy, seeing your relieved is all she needs.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 gifts you flowers on a regular basis because they're just as pretty as you ♡

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's so straightforward about her crush on you it's insane. People think she's dating you already, well wrong--

ᯓᡣ𐭩 big talk and actions but when it comes to beinh very vocal about her feelings she shuts down-she would stutter and blush not knowing what to say-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 like, pls stop being so oblivious to her attempts and just tell her you like her--then she'll confess too!

ARLECCHINO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 look, she's a busy woman (father), she doesn't have time for stupid crushes. She'll either tell you immediately once she figured it out, or just waits till the feelings disappear over time.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 why? If she is uncertain that this would work out with a fatui harbinger, then she wouldn't confess at all. You won't notice a thing.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but if she does feel like it could work out, maybe not immediately because you need time...and yeah maybe she needs to know a 100% too, she would court you (??)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 presenting you the finest things from all nations. Also giving you ifts from your home region cause...well maybe you miss it? And if you're from Fontaine she gives you only the most expensive shit hidden from all normal ordinary people-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she sneaks her way in your heart ngl-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and if she ever sees you with one of the things she gave you, she would make sure others know. Who knows who might have an interest in you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 would also make some space in her schedule just for you. Lets you know too. No, not to make you feel bad, nahhh. She wants you to know how important you are to her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and that she will always have time for you no matter what.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's kinda advertising herself. "Look, I'm the baddest bitch around."

AYAKA

ᯓᡣ𐭩 also makes space in her very busy schedule just for you. And if she can't find the time so you both can be alone, she takes you with her to her appointments and everything.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wants her brothers 'ok' for it all. She wouldn't feel quite comfy if Ayato wouldn't like you. Thomas opinion is also very important to her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if she every plays this weird cooking game with you, she trys to make it tame. She doesn't want you too disgusted or near throwing up cause then she'd feel bad

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and also trys cooking for you normally. She trys ok, she's getting better and better. Takes this as an excuse to cook your favorite meals.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 dances with you! She's shy about it but she does. Ayaka teaches you her favorite dances and moves, and would get quite close to you by doing this...plus for her

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but besides this she's very shy about her crush on you and won't admit it very fast. Even after months she wouldn't dare say a word about it to you or hint anything to drastic.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 tbh, it has to be you who would need to make the first step lol

AYATO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 very obvious...I mean...he gives you flowers, jewelry, new clothes. He takes you to events or dinners, important meetings. Lets you stay in the Kamisato estate for free. Bitch you even have your own room??

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ITS SO OBVIOUS

ᯓᡣ𐭩 i can't tell you more, except, just...just talk with him about it. Confront him and say, "yes" that's all he wants to hear from you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and see you happy ofc

BAIZHU

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if Chansheng can keep her mouth shut he wouldn't tell you at all. Or at least not so fast.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you know, you know. Baizhus story is...something. i won't spoiler tho

ᯓᡣ𐭩 because of that he needs to be very sure about it all. He can't just jump into something that might not work out at all or have no future in the beginning.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he would show his interest with nice little gestures. Giving you medicine for free, helping your loved ones when sick also for free, smiling just a bit more at you or teaching you about herbs and all.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's very gentle with you, scared he might break you. In truth it's actually him who would break--

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Qiqi would notice, she's a smart girl ofc she would. Yeah she knew you two were a thing before you two knew lol

ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh yeah and Changsheng blew it all-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Your hands wouldn't shake so much if you wouldn't love her"

TAGLIST ♡

@hehothrowawayfae @lucienbarkbark @ryu--19 @theblades @rikasurl

[killa-cookie]

hii :3c can I get a shadow milk cookie x gn reader angst?? were like reader used to worked with before his corruption but when he became corrupted they stop working with him, left him and reunited with when he escaped the silver tree

(sorry if it's long and wordy LMAO)

oohfph angst

REUNION

Shadow milk x Gn! Reader angst

"______ Cookie, could you get me that book?"

"Yes Bluebery Milk!"

You quickly dashed to his side in a Swift motion, handing him the book eagerly. He softly smiled at you in response as he began reading.

"You know, ________. You're the best assistant I could ever ask for. " he softly hummed gazing at you, waiting for a response

"Since when did you get all sappy Mr. blueberry— I know you like complimenting others but now this is a leap!" You exclaimed, a shocked look on your face.

"Hm, is that just an excuse for you saying you don't believe me?" His tone amused as he lifted his head from the book, properly looking at your dumbfounded face.

"N-no way! I always believe you Sir. Blueberry!" You stammered, he was right though. You couldn't just accept a praise as high as that from such a kind figure.

"I know you do, but I also know that you don't believe high praise." His gaze softened.

"Ugh— it's not fair you know everything Sir!" You groan in defeat, he was always right. He knows he's always right, and you do too.

"I am the virtue of knowledge, _______." He deadpanned at you. He then chuckled, amused by your behavior.

"Gh... Just promise you won't do anything you might regret in the future... " you looked at the ground then back to him. His expression curious.

"Now why would I do that? But, I promise."

— those days were shortly lived.

Destruction surrounded you, fires spreading like light. The nearest buildings were destroyed, your favourite library... Gone.

You had evacuated all the nearby townsfolks, all those innocent. You helped those trapped in debris, those trapped under wood and other solid materials.

You were scrambling, while hiding from the attacks those beasts had struck. You can hear Burning Spice's loud laughs, amused by what he had inflicted onto the sacred land.

As you were looking to find more townsfolk, you met eye to eye... With him.

He looked sinful, he wasn't the blueberry milk you knew, he was a monster.

"_______ cookie! I can explain—" he knew what kind of monster he had become, he couldn't explain but he wanted you to calm down, he hated seeing you scared... Scared of him.

"NO— YOUR A MONSTER; A BEAST. YOUR NOT THE COMRADE I HAD ALWAYS ADMIRED, STAY BACK.!" You screamed at him with all the oxygen you had in your body, enraged at what he had done.

"______ cookie...." He weakly reached out to you, as you quickly backed away.

You hated him, despised him. He had given into temptation. He broke your promise, don't do anything you would regret in the future.

He was too distracted by how you looked at him, and you took this as the chance to run away.

By a miracle you had gotten away, but the destruction had inflicted good damage onto you.

You leaned onto a rock and sobbed, you had never thought this would have happened. You missed blueberry milk cookie, you missed everyone. They weren't themselves anymore.

—

"So you were a librarian that served Shado— I mean, Blueberry Milk Cookie?" GingerBrave exclaimed in awe. It was an honor to meet such a historical figure as your self!

"You can refer to him as Shadow Milk in front of me, no worries. But we must focus on keeping him and the others inside that tree."

Your tone slowly drifted to seriousness. You didn't want him to inflict the same damage he had done in the past.

Especially on this sacred Faerie kingdom, even if they knew you used to work for Shadow Milk. They treated you as an equal, as if you didn't work for a sinner, a BEAST. This land was sacred and pure, you adored it.

Even though you didn't fully understand this Dark Enchantress thing... You loved traveling with gingerbrave and the others, you weren't so sure about pure vanilla though... He reminded you so much of blueberry and you hated it.

The battle had already begun and not even an hour had passed, the rift in the tree slowly opening wider and wider by the minute. You couldn't do much since you were only such a simple librarian.

" WE MUST FIGHT OFF AS MUCH AS WE CAN FAERIES! " the elder spoke, charging at the rift at full speed. You admired his brave and courageous demeanor for an old man. (You were probably older than him)

White Lily's bud helped in trying to close the portal, but it wasn't enough.

Elder Faerie had sacrificed himself for more power would be bestowed unto Lily, a brave action indeed. You admired that.

It was then strong enough to hold the rift for a while, but you were still paranoid. It's as if a voice was calling you to get closer to the portal, you were always somewhere near it but you wouldn't dare to get closer.

You were guarding the rift the whole day, not even taking a break. The Faerie soldiers were slightly worried because you weren't moving your stance a bit and stayed in the same position for hours. One of them even thought you had become a statue and stared panicking.

You decided to shut your eyes for a mere moment... For a MERE MOMENT.

"T-THE PORTAL! IT'S OPENING AGAIN!" A Faerie soldier yelled, he quickly asked others for backup and support. The Faerie soldiers were very diligent in their attacks.

You had been helping them by casting spells of bounding onto the rift, but it just absorbed the spells- disappearing without a trace. You then decided to test your luck and get dangerously close...

You felt an eerie presence as you got closer and jolted backwards in fear. He was there, waiting. The gingerbrave team had just arrived helping in the rift. But it wasn't enough.

Then... He emerged from the portal.

"OH MY OH MY~! WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE—"

Shadow milk's voice was filled with excitement, he looked around for a bit until his eyes settled onto you. His gaze softened for a hit before sharpening once more. He told himself that you were just forced to be him, you wouldn't actually hurt him?

He tried making himself believe that you would never betray him, you were his trusted comrade! But deep down he knows... His most precious treasure would die just for him to be killed.

[vyxenisl0st]

ׂ╰┈➤𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙙 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙚

Alastor x reader

🀥 Summary: You despised the TV Demon—the sound of his voice, his face, and especially his incessant news channel. But what happens when he finally says something worth listening to?

🀥Warnings: fem!reader, name or pronouns not used, slight angst, vulgar language, threats

🀥Word count: 722

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV-coming soon

ﾟ･:,｡★＼(^-^)♪ありがと♪( ^-^)/★,｡･:･ﾟ

“Top of the hour, and we’re discussing—”

You considered yourself a calm, patient demon. But hell, his voice? It was like nails on a chalkboard, every syllable scraping your nerves raw.

“Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice—”

You sighed, sinking deeper into the plush chair as the masseuse’s hands pressed against your back. For all the torment Hell had to offer, the spas in the Pleasure District were one of its rare luxuries. Still, even the quiet hum of the district couldn’t drown out Vox’s droning.

“So, the Radio Demon is back in town—”

Your eyes snapped open. The voice that grated so terribly was now saying something useful. Pushing the masseuse’s hands aside, you sat up, the silk robe brushing against your legs as you turned to the screen. God, you hated Vox’s face more than his voice, but for once, he wasn’t just background noise.

“But the demon is a coward!”

In a blink, your robe transformed into something more appropriate—or as close to “appropriate” as one could get in Hell. You didn’t have time to waste.

“Alyssa!”

A sheepish sinner came skittering into view. “Y-yes, my lady?”

The echo of your footsteps cut through the spa’s tranquil stillness. “The spa is open for sinners again. I’m leaving.”

Alyssa hesitated but scrambled after you. “Yes, of course! Uh… where exactly are you going?”

It was rare for you to leave your district, the most pleasant part of Hell by far. But as your fingers brushed the silver band on your finger, your expression darkened.

“To see my husband.”

╭──╯ . . . . . . . . . . ╰──╮

It didn't take long to figure out where Alastor was hiding-er, residing. The flashing HAZBIN HOTEL sign practically shouted his name. And the commercial?

A slap in the face.

"Rehabilitation for sinners," you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes. What a load of crap.

You approached the towering doors, your fists clenched at your sides. What would you say to him? What could you possibly say after seven years of silence? You knocked once. Twice. Muffled voices floated from the other side of the door, making your irritation grow. When it finally opened, your heart skipped a beat - well, it would have, if it was beating.

There he was: Alastor. The Radio Demon. Your husband.

Your fist shot out before your mind could even process it, connecting with his face with a sickening crack. He flew into the wall, a dumbfounded expression plastered on his face. Without hesitation, you stalked toward him and grabbed him by the collar, your voice roaring through the hotel.

"You motherfucker. Not only do you disappear without a word, but you come back after seven years, and I find out from the fucking TV Demon?" You seethed, your grip tightening.

"You have five seconds to explain yourself before I dismember you and scatter your parts across all of Hell."

Before you could finish your threat, a sharp, cold blade pressed against your neck. You whirled around, fury igniting at the sight of a girl-her eye marked with an X-holding a spear. "Do you mind?" You snarled, stepping back slightly. "We're having a moment here."

She pressed the blade harder.

"Who are you?" Her gaze flicked over to Alastor. "And why are you just standing there? You're more than capable of defending yourself."

Alastor laughed—a low, amused chuckle that made your skin crawl. Slowly, he rose to his feet.

"How touching," he said, brushing off his suit. "To see you defending me. But don't worry, my dear. This is just how my wife likes to greet me."

Author’s note: I decided to turn my silly little scenarios into fanfics. It’s my first time writing for Hazbin Hotel so be nice. And let me know if you want me to make a second part.

[helluvapoison]

Okay okay I think I got it!!

Imagine the Vees entering like a side room or something and finding cannibal! Reader (literally) tearing into some random person that was caught snooping around by them (reader). How would they react do you think?

No pressure to write this if you don't want too. Love your writing, your recent Zestial one was so cute!!!

-Cannibal Anon :))

Nice To Eat You

[i]

The Vees x Cannibal!Reader

warning: suggestive and dark themes ahead, blood and gore, violence, security shenanigans and, hello, cannibalism

Admittedly, you’d gotten rather careless with your beloved around. Who can blame you when they make you feel on top of the world? With you at their side they felt a bit untouchable too. More so than usual. However someone had broken into their dressing room and wrote something foul on the mirror. You saw red. This wouldn’t happen again.

Cannibals were rather good at sniffing out something rotten.

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

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Witnessing crocs make a comeback in Hell was the worst sight she’s seen to date

• Blood doesn’t particularly bother her, though she hates the mess of it all

• Despite the jokes shared between the two of you, it was sort of unspoken that you would keep your dietary habits away from your girlfriend

• She couldn’t help the gasp when she looked up from her phone, seeing blood spilling from your mouth

• You stiffened, matching her wide eyed expression

• Fuck, you never wanted her to see you like this

• Whipping around, you spat out the flesh and began furiously wiping your face with your sleeve

• “Stop!” Velvette shouts, daring to rush over and grab your shoulder

• Suppressing a flinch, you freeze at her command but refuse to face her

• “Who’s this then?”

• Your reply is bitter like the taste on your tongue, “The rat.”

• “Good.” You feel her grip on your shoulder tighten, “Make Joanne clean up when you're done. Oh, and dollface? Brush your teeth before you come find me, yeah?”

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• He thought he meant it when he said he wouldn’t be grossed out by your food selection

• Though the meal was the same, seeing your entire front drenched in blood, red dripping down your chin was entirely different from date nights with fancy ambience and classy decor

• Shaking his head from side to side, he dials the shock out of his system and forces on a passive expression

• You two have already come so far! He can’t have his date mate tiptoeing around him now

• “Do I need a new assistant?” Vox asks, feigning a disinterested tone

• Your own surprise dilutes slowly, you were so sure Vox was bluffing when he said he could handle this

• He’s rather proud of himself that he was convincing enough to fool you

• “No. S’the bastard who wrote on your mirror.”

• “Excellent! Feed what’s left to Vark, let’s clean you up and go celebrate! Wash that shitty sinner taste out of your mouth with some wine, hm?”

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Unbothered by blood, he likes making you dish out his punishments while he sits back and watches

• “Dinner and a show,” He’ll joke, “Like killing two birds with one stone!”

• As sadistic as he is, Val doesn’t have the patience to draw out torture

• If he wants results, he’ll get them immediately or kill someone in the process

• The two of you are similar in that regard or you would’ve brought the half eaten body to him when the sinner was still kicking and screaming

• Surprise hits his face when he opens the door and fades just as fast

• “Aw,” Val clicks his tongue, “You couldn’t have waited for me, monstruo? You know how much I like to see you eat.”

• You toss a bloodied grin in his direction, “Got hangry. This was the cynic that said your films were shit.”

• He chuckles darkly, leaning over to cup your face and wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb, “What do they think now?”

• “Nothin’ much.” You join his amusement with a breathy laugh

• Stretching your neck up to meet him halfway, Val kisses you right on the lips. His tongue briefly taking over your mouth, swiping away the copper taste and replacing it with his own

• “Come. Let’s get you in the bath, monstrou.”

• You quirk a brow at him, “A real one or a cat bath?”

• Laughing, Valentino taps your nose with an extra finger, “Dealer’s choice.”

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ cannibal anon i love you!!! thanks again!!