#or a skin tone? i feel like i always make him more purple than i want. i think more a dark greyish indigo would suit him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

predestinatos · 6 months

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warm enough for you | CL16 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: charles has a special way of getting under your skin, especially when he insists on staying after the party is over. chapter 1 of an ongoing series.

tags: enemies to lovers, smut with a bit of plot, cocky!charles, bratty!yn

word count: 3.6k

minors dni ──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !! warnings & note underneath

warnings: smut, drunk (tipsy) sex, oral (f!receiving), penetration, unprotected sex.

author's note: first time attempting at writing smut and posting anything so please keep up with me. currently working on part 2.

Everyone was slowly leaving your apartment, the party reaching its natural end. Bottles were scattered across your living room, but apart from that, the flat was not as messy as expected. The party was more of a get together, given the small venue where you lived.

You were dizzy, the alcohol getting to your head and body, but conscious enough to decide that you could still clean things up before going to sleep. You waited for everyone to leave, and as you were getting ready to finally let out a deep breath you seemed to be holding the whole night, you notice someone standing, leaning against the kitchen doorframe. “Fuck you scared the shit out of me,” you start. His tall figure contrasted with the multicolored shadows of your living room, still dancing to a rhythm that was no longer there.

Then he chuckled. You knew it was him, he did not have to make a sound for you to recognize his frame, the way he always crossed his arms when he looked at you, as if in constant judgment. But if you had any doubts, that sound gave you all the certainty you needed. It was the chuckle he let out before a snarky remark. “I’m sorry, princess, I didn’t know you were so sensitive…” and there it was. The pet name used solely to annoy you, the tone that clarified his only purpose was to get under your skin.

“I would argue with you, but honestly I just want to clean up so please leave, thank you.” It was true. You enjoyed entertaining this back and forth, feeling him getting more and more irritated yet pleased with himself. But you were not in the mood for it, at least not now. Your head was softly spinning and taking your mind off of things is exactly what you need.

As you walk past him to the living room, in an attempt to showcase how you were not going to even acknowledge him, let alone join him in his games, he pushes himself off of the doorframe. “Just thought you could use some help.”

This was ridiculous, and you let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. Since when does he want to help you? Ever since the day you two met, he made it his mission to be as unhelpful as he could, rolling his eyes at everything you said, giving counter arguments to your opinions even if he agreed with them, all whilst smiling towards you with the look of pleasure over someone’s anger. You tried your best to avoid him, but it was impossible to do so, since your friend group was the same. Wherever you went, there he was, and vice versa. Eventually, obviously, you started acting the same way towards him as he did with you, and this just amused your friends even more. That was why he was here, in your apartment. He comes with the friends package, whether you like it or not.

Once again, apart from the laugh, you said nothing else. Instead, you leaned down and started picking up the empty bottles from the floor, whilst the lights kept changing colors from blue to purple to red. To your surprise, you hear him do the same, although he stumbles on himself a bit more than you. “Lightweight” you say, smirking, making your way towards the kitchen to put the bottles in a trash bag. That, and because the silence in the living room was too loud, made it too tight for both of you to fit.

As you placed the empty bottles carefully in the bag, avoiding the loud noise of glass on glass to heighten your soon to come headache, you feel a hand on your waist. His hand. His grip was tight and soft at the same time, sending shivers down your body which contrast with your annoyance. “Excuse me” he said behind you, almost whispering in your ear. His hand left your waist as fast as it got there, an indication of how he was aware you wanted more. “Was this less scary?” he asked, ironically.

You turned to look at him, almost ignoring the fact that you were trapped against the balcony as his body. You could feel his gaze on yours, and while you tried to hold it, you realized you couldn’t. The best you could do was run a hand through your hair in an attempt to disguise the tension running through your body. “You’re such an asshole” you said.

He finally looked away while smiling to himself, staring out the window. You took a second to notice the way his throat bobbed up and down, his hair was messy and careless due to the alcohol on his system which lowered his inhibitions. “You like it though.” Before you could turn away, his gaze stared at your again. His breathing was heavier than usual, the drunken smirk on his face juxtaposing with his furrowed eyebrows and darkened eyes. His face was so close, too close, for you to think straight. You looked at his lips, breaking eye contact once again, letting him win once again. “You wish” was all you could reply.

Without moving, his voice asked in defiance, “so what if I do?” You could feel his eyes exploring your body, his chest rising and falling in deep, steady, too controlled breaths. The red light in the living room shone behind him, highlighting his shape hovering above you. “That’s rich coming from you” you snickered. As much as you were feeling the tension between you both, as much as your teasing and bickering was reaching to a degree of immense repressed desire every time you two were in the same room, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. You couldn’t.

The first time you two met, he went out of his way to drunkenly inform you, at a club, that you two “would never happen” and that he “would never fuck you.” To this day you fail to understand where the comment came from, to this day you don’t understand why he hates you so much but insists on making his presence known to you.

At first he seemed confused at your comment, his eyes searching your face for an explanation, but soon enough they widen in realization. Letting out a soft laugh, Charles ran his hands through his hair, making it even messier. “You still think about that?”

It was a ridiculous question, and he knew it. It was hard to hear something like that from someone who you basically had just met, even though he was drunk when he said it. You had not even had time to consider any sort of thing happening between you two and he had already declared it impossible. It seemed unbelievable that someone could be so full of himself to the point of declaring he was not going to bed with you, even before you showed any interest.

You pushed him away softly, and he did not stop you, despite his clear disappointment. That emotion was quickly replaced by a raising of eyebrows as he saw you open the door to the fridge and taking out two cold beers, handing him one. “You don’t seem to be leaving anytime soon, so help yourself.” Was all you could say.

This behavior could be explained by the alcohol running through both of your veins already, by your tiredness over the night, or the sheer need for company you had been needing for a while. You moved towards the living room again, slouching down on the sofa, and you needed not look back to know Charles was following you.

He lifted your legs, which were resting softly on the couch, only to sit down and place them on his lap carefully, with a grin splattered across his face. His side profile revealed a certain rigidness, his jaw tight and tense, but his eyes were soft and calm. “Did you mean it, though?” you asked. You seemed to have interrupted his thoughts, because his expression was lost at your sudden break of silence in the dark room.

“What do you think?” he asked back, never willing to give you the upper hand or satisfaction of a normal conversation. You tried to distract yourself from his cold hand caressing your leg, mostly because you did not know how much of it was intentional. He seemed to be doing it so nonchalantly and carelessly, you wondered if most of it was just instinct.

You tried to calm your voice before you replied, even though the first word that came out of your mouth sounded deeper and higher at the same time, uneven and nervous. “Well- I think, according to what you said that nigh-“ you started, but couldn’t finish. He did not allow you to, interrupting you and turning his face to you for the first time since you two sat down. “I know you’re not that dense, princess.”

Even in the darkly lit room, you felt his gaze burning your skin, focusing on your lips, then your neck. Meanwhile, you stared at his hand, moving slightly up your leg, sending shivers throughout your whole body, shivers you wish he did not notice, but knew, deep down, he was aware of. He knew the effect these had on you, he knew how to please, because that was his reputation. And you hated it at first, hated that he was so confident in his skills and so utterly arrogant about them, but now it only aroused you even more. You took a big sip of your beer, in an attempt to cool your now burning body.

That seemed to remind Charles he was himself holding a bottle of beer in his own hand, because upon seeing you swallow the liquid, he looked at the hand which was holding it. Moving it in order to hold it by the neck, grinning to himself in proud arrogance, he brought it close to your skin, your body hissing in pleasure at the temperature. You closed your eyes and exhaled softly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much this seemingly simple action affected you, but also not wanting him to stop.

He whispered your name, the request for you to look at him implicit in his voice, and you complied. His movements did not stop, a slow game he seemed to be playing with you, in an attempt to see how far he could go. “You look so fucking hot,” he breathed.

Your body was aflame with lust, and so was his, you could tell. You could see him struggling to even speak clearly, to move clearly, trying his best to control his movements which threatened to unleash themselves. “Careful, Charles, you don’t want to break your promise,” you teased, as you slowly moved closer to him, both in defiance of his actions and tempting him to proceed with them.

He freed both of his hands as you placed yourself directly in front of him, sitting on his lap, feeling his erection through his jeans. “You’re making it very hard for me not to do it” he murmured. “Am I?” you asked again. You were feeling bold, enjoying how both of you were toying with the thin line between hate and desire, between forbidden and allowed. Charles merely nodded hungrily, his hands placed on your hips, caressing them softly.

Your pulse quickened at the touch, but also at his greedy and dark expression. You moved your hands towards his shirt, which you start unbuttoning slowly, revealing more and more of his skin slowly. Before you could move to the fourth button, he abruptly grabs a hold of your wrists and pins you to the sofa, underneath his frame. “Stop being such a fucking tease,” he demanded with an aggressive ardor in his voice. With that, he guided your hand which he was still holding towards his erection. You realized the agony he must be in, how his cock must be throbbing underneath those layers of fabric. You felt weak yourself, with an intoxicating need to undress, to ignite the fire that was visibly about to burst into crimson flames.

“You deserve it” you replied with a smirk. It didn’t seem to convince him, this attempt of yours at seeming stronger and unaffected by what was happening. You and him were playing a game but it was getting too real, too intense, too tempting. Letting go of your hand and getting closer to you, his lips mere inches away from yours, he placed a hand between your legs, feeling the pooling wetness growing. Your whole body shuddered at this, a moan escaping your lips and giving you away. “You’re just making it harder for yourself,” he whispered smugly, lips brushing against yours.

Desperately you pulled him in for a kiss. His kiss was filled with intoxicating craving, a groan escaping his lips at the sudden action, his hips grinding against you in frenzied movements. Breaking your kiss, his lips moved towards your neck, softly biting it and leaving wet marks as he kept going down. You undid the knot holding your short dress together, thanking yourself for the easy-access choice of wardrobe.

As he kissed your stomach and paused at your navel, looking up at you as if asking for confirmation. You looked at him and saw how he looked: disheveled and flushed, his cheeks red and messy hair. He looked absolutely mesmerizing, the mix of complete submission but demanding attitude affecting your body through a quickened pulse. You could only nod your permission, finding yourself at a loss of words. He did not hesitate to pull down your lacy underwear, leaving you exposed to him, feeling his warm breath against you. All at once, his lips were exploring your opening, followed by his tongue, moving with ravish.

You cried audibly in pleasure, your back arching against him in untamed pleasure. Unable to hold his own need for pleasure, Charles unzipped his jeans and began stroking himself. His ragged grunts made your body melt in jolts of bliss, and watching him touching himself as he ate you out sent you completely over the edge.

He raised his eyes at you as he kept savoring you, some of his hair sticking to his forehead, his gaze filled with contrasting innocence and total control over you. He pulled his lips away from you, placing himself above your frame, making you look so small in comparison to him. He hovered over you, shirt completely unbuttoned, hand still pleasuring his cock, visibly throbbing with need. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight of him, face wet from your juices and his saliva, chest rising and falling incoherently. “I knew you’d love it” he breathed out.

It was admirable, really. How he still teased you and made it his mission to get under your skin, even like this. “That’s all you’ve got?” you replied, eyebrows raised, eyes half closed in unspoken defiance. “You’re jerking yourself off like a desperate teenager and I’m the one ‘loving it’?” you were testing him. Trying to see how much you could push him over the edge, annoy him, how he would take it out on you – or not.

“God you’re such a fucking brat” he hissed, holding your body with ease and turning you around, lying on your stomach. With his knees, he spread your legs apart and positioned himself between them. You felt him lower himself down, preparing yourself to be filled up, to quench the thirst growing at every passing second but- nothing was happening.

“What the fuck-“ you complained, annoyed. It was slightly embarrassing, your frustration over how long he was taking, and when you turned your head around slightly to see what was wrong, you saw that he had won. He was doing it on purpose, despite his own desperation to bury himself inside you. Amused, he chuckled bringing his hand to your back, caressing it as if to ease your pain in mocking comfort. “You have to tell me what you want, princess.”

“You can’t be serious” you hissed back. But he was, and you knew it. You had gotten this far already, and yet he would not let this go, and you did not know why he insisted so much. You had no idea how much it turned him on to see that only he could affect you like he did, to see how much control he had over you.

Rolling your eyes and doing your best at a monocordic voice, you complied “fuck me, Charles.” Yes, you were being bratty and petty, and yes, you would do anything just for him to fill the emptiness you were feeling inside you.

“You’re such a brat,” he growls as he thrusts himself into you. Your instantly arch your back in pain ad pleasure, feeling his whole body vibrating into you with untamed hunger. His hands grip your waist and force you to switch from a lying position to all fours, allowing him to access you easier. He continued his thrusts as he left bites on the back of your neck, and you filled the room with your cries.

He was not being soft or sweet about it. Charles was completely immersed in his need to have you, so much so that he could barely see anything apart from you, back arched in pleasure for him, the switching lights illuminating every curve of your body in sensuous effect. He dreamt about possessing you like this so often, thought about how good you’d feel so many times, that what was happening seemed to him unreal. He felt himself close to coming as you clenched around him, but before he could so, he pulled himself out of you.

“Not yet,” he started. His voice was husked and lazy, a reflection of how much restraint it was taking him not to fill you up already. You were about to protest, being so close yourself, but as you turned around you found yourself mesmerized by the sight of him. His green eyes were glossy, his face completely flushed and sweaty from withhold pleasure. As you stared at him, he raised an eyebrow and gave you a half-smile. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, doing nothing to fix it, but it didn’t matter. He seemed almost shy about how you were looing at him, which was insane and ridiculous, given what you were doing, what you were.

“I want to look at you” you said. This caused Charles’ eyes to widen in surprise, not expecting your bluntness. Even you were shocked at what you said and how demanding you sounded, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Holding one of your ankles and placing it on his shoulder, Charles entered you with unleashed violence, his gazed interlocked with yours. You thought about how pornographic the view must be for him as well, your swollen lips, some tears of pleasure running through your cheeks, and a sloppy smile plastered across your face. You feel absolutely lightheaded, almost drunk with ecstasy. “Putain, j'aime quand tu me regardes comme ça” he said, French escaping his lips as he loses all capacity to form coherent thoughts. This just made your pulse quicken, your skin bursting with fulfillment.

His pace fastened even more, as he grunted and throbbed with how good he felt inside you. “Your cunt feels so fucking good” he kept repeating, his eyebrows furrowed as if attempting to delay his orgasm. “Charles, I- I’m gonna cum” you try telling him, between breaths and moans. “Fuck, fuck, look at me” he demanded, holding your face so it wouldn’t move away from his gaze. With that, you erupted in pleasure, completely undone beneath him, body trembling.

The view was so overwhelming, Charles couldn’t help but come as well, filling you up with fervent ardor, his body falling limply on top of yours. He remained there, his breathing uneven and erratic, just like yours.

You both lost track of time as you lay there, together. You could have fallen asleep like that, maybe you had, there was no way to tell. He felt warm and comfortable against you, and you felt so close and secure to him that neither of you dared to move.

After a while, his fingers starting drawing small, invisible designs on your still sensitive skin, causing you to giggle. For some time, you two just existed together with nothing else retraining your behavior, your own hands playing with his soft hair, a tired smile on his face.

You wake up with light filling your living room, giving you momentary blindness. The headache was done with its threat to show up, now attacking you with full force, limiting your movements and thoughts. Despite everything, you remembered the night before. Even if you did not, there was evidence that something had happened – or, better, there wasn’t any, and that’s what caught your attention.

The living room was pristine and looked untouched. You were fully dressed in some comfortable clothes, and the TV was on despite the fact that its volume was almost fully off. It seemed as if this was an ordinary day, but you knew it wasn’t.

You grabbed your phone and stared at its screen empty of any sort of texts, notifications or messages. Nothing to prove the night before. You knew it was a mistake to do so, but you couldn’t help typing out the text:

To: Charles (Asshole) Hey, got home safe? (11:33am)

All you got back was a small text underneath yours, which said “Read (11:47)”

#please dont be hard on me ive never tried this before #im sensitive #sort of enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc smut #smut with a bit of plot #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you

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inkdrinkerworld · 7 months

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okay wait i could totally see like kinda maybe insecure chubby reader who obvs likes Spence cuz who wouldn’t but afraid to make the first move and early seasons Spencer makes some off handed comment about how beautiful reader is like not even thinking about it maybe during a little tangent or something and r is just like ?????? like deadass ????? hahahaha idk idk i think something like that could be fun

you’re accustomed to spencer’s babbling. his seemingly never-ending tangents and the way he gets a little breathless from them and you love them.

you think you love him.

he’s cute, knowledgeable, and he can hold a conversation for hours. he’s also always soft spoken and leaning just slightly into your space.

if you were a profiler like he was you’d probably have deduced that he likes you too- you’re not, so you don’t realise.

you’re just their media liaison along with jj and you don’t realise it at all.

not until spencer’s rambling about colour theory.

“no it’s really cool. you mix the colours to get the correct shade,” you're all having lunch in the bull pen at quantico, your sandwich in your hand and a bowl of fruits on your desk.

spencer has a similar lunch, considering he’s the one who brings you fruit every day, but he has pasta rather than a sandwich.

the rest of the team- even hotch- have tried convincing you spencer likes you because you’re the only one that gets fruit from him but you brush it aside.

you’re also the only one that’s content to listen to his ramblings.

“like with y/n,” spencer turns to you, his eyes zeroing in on the purple dress you’ve got on. “the shade of purple really goes with her skin tone and it makes her look even more beautiful, that’s colour theory. well it’s also learning what colours make your skin look good and not dull.”

your ears are ringing with spencer’s compliment. you never thought there’d be a day where he said something like that so casually.

your heart is a stampede when spencer passes you the last three cubes of pineapple and the last bunch of grapes from his bowl- his fingers lingering on yours just long enough for it not to be an accident.

you just hope he couldn’t feel your pulse.

#spencer reid #spencerreid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x chubby!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid

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hades-in-bloom · 8 months

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Scars

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

summary: thinking of Leon’s scars (with a little bit of touching).

warnings & contents: fluff; assumed older Leon (more of RE6 and Vendetta, although I keep using ID! to illustrate); could be age gap, could be none; lots of cuddling; mentions of violence (sorta); the reader could be any gender; no mentions of y/n

a/n: a blurb, because I can. As always, proceed at your own risk. Minors DNI! Masterlist xoxo

soundtrack: billie eilish — when the party’s over

***

Leon’s figure was resting on top of the bedsheets, his bare back exposed to one’s curious sight with his features relaxed, while he was catching up on hours of sleep he was deprived of this week; thanks to another one of those excruciating missions. You couldn’t hold back a small smile; he looked so peaceful, lying there with disheveled dirty blonde hair and not a glimpse of worry on his face—something you would die to see more often after everything he has endured.

You were doing your best to stay as quiet as humanly possible so you wouldn’t wake him up when your gaze got drawn to the network of scars, interspersed with moles, scattered across his pale skin. There were a couple of fresh bruises flourishing into purple and yellow blobs, too, adding to a rich picture. You winced like you could feel his pain. You’d never get used to seeing him this way—seeing him hurt.

Your touch was lighter than one of a feather when your fingers slid over one of his scars, tracing its shape slowly, with care. This one seemed to be old, fading away over the years, thus one of the rarest ones—as there were many more those anew, coming in different shapes and shades of pink. It didn’t matter, though, how many of them were on Kennedy’s body—you knew them all, keeping the count.

You pulled your hand away in a swift motion as you felt Leon stir. He was still half-asleep when he opened his eyes a crack, his gaze fixed on your features. You looked guilty.

“Hey,” he muttered hoarsely with a faint smile. He didn’t sound irritated—rather exhausted. “Can’t keep your hands off of me, sweetheart?”

You chuckled softly as you eliminated the distance between the two of you, and then rested your head on the edge of his pillow. His hand immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you up.” You pressed your lips against his forehead. You kept your voice barely above the whisper, hoping he’d be able to go back to sleep.

He hummed, “It’s okay,” with his eyes almost shut again, as his mind stayed in the half-place between awakeness and dreams. His thumb caressed your side mindlessly, soothing himself down.

You put your hands on his back in a kind of hug, feeling the bumps of his scars under your fingers.

“You have never told me their stories,” you said quietly, cradling him with your touch.

Leon’s body tensed slightly, his face now hidden in the crook of your neck. His warm and even breathing sent shivers down your spine.

The man became silent for a moment, taking his time before he replied, “I don’t believe these are stories that I should make you listen to.”

He preferred not to bring his work home.

You didn’t insist—you have always respected his choices. You left a kiss on his temple while Leon hugged you tighter.

“I’ll listen to anything you’d be willing to tell me, handsome.”

He smiled; you could feel his lips stretching out on the skin of your neck. It wasn’t a trust issue; Kennedy could tell that much—but he needed time to gather the courage to drag you into his waking nightmare.

“Maybe one day, sweetheart,” Leon sighed deeply, his tone calm as he admitted; his eyes now closed. “Maybe one day.”

You spent the next minutes running fingers through his hair until he drifted back into a blissful sleep.

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beomiracles · 2 months

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thin walls, pt.3 final part

"when your new neighbour moves in he disturbs your peace and quiet ── however not all noise is bad noise..."

pairing; beomgyuxfemale!reader warnings; vaginal fingering, marking, unprotected sex, they fuck idk what else to say :3

note ─ this is a continuation to part 1 and part 2, I am forever grateful for the love this mini series has received and your sweet requests for more parts, this will however be the last and final part, please be understanding as I have other works I'd like to focus on and the fact that this was originally not supposed to be more than one part, love Serene •ᴗ•

The first rays of sunshine peek through the curtains, pulling you from your slumber. Yawning you stretch your body out and roll over only to be met by something hard. Blinking your eyes open a horrified expression paints your face as you come face to face with your neighbours naked chest.

Beomgyu sleeps soundly next to you, arm draped over your waist as he pulls you closer. What the fuck happened. Mortified you look down only to realise that neither of you are wearing clothes. Your mind starts racing as you try and piece together the puzzle of last night. You remember falling asleep on his couch, waking up and going to the bathroom, then you, oh. OH.

Your eyes flutter closed as you think back to the previous night, catching your neighbour so shamelessly getting off to you, and...and offering to help him. You clearly remember the way he'd looked up at you with such lustful eyes, the words "yes please, ma'am" leaving his lips as if they were second nature.

Him pulling you onto his lap, having you straddle his waist as his hands roamed your body: from your chest, down your stomach, to your hips, caressing your soft thighs before sneaking their way between your legs. Throwing your head back in ecstasy as his fingers find your clit, teasing it before he dips two fingers inside of you. The way he curled his fingers so perfectly, making you arch your back and grind yourself onto his hand.

You softly run your fingers along his chest, admiring the way it rises and falls with his rhythmic breathing as he sleeps. Long red lines cover his pretty torso, and you remember how you dug your nails into his skin the night before, dragging them down his chest as his cock filled your pussy so heavenly.

Rough hands on your waist to keep you in place as he thrust up into you making you scream his name. Leaning down to press kisses against his jawline, down his neck, collarbones and chest. Biting and nibbling at his soft skin, his now sleeping figure was blooming with red and purple spots, and you revelled in them.

Seeing your neighbour's face beneath you as you ride him, scrunched up from pleasure, his pink lips slightly parted as the soft whimper of your name escapes them. All the things you'd been hearing, imagining, fantasising about, were all happening.

Not caring about the fact that you weren't on the pill because when he so breathlessly asked, "please- let me come inside you", nothing else mattered. Steading yourself by placing your hands on his chest, feeling his muscles tense as he spills himself inside of you, the most sinful sounds leaving his mouth as you clench around him.

Laying on top of his toned torso as you both catch your breath, feeling his hands run through your hair and you close your eyes thinking, this is bliss. Falling asleep, naked bodies tangled together in a sweaty mess. And that's how you found yourself naked in your neighbours bed.

You glanced up at Beomgyu's sleeping figure, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. Suddenly a wave of realisation hits you and you shoot up, "oh my god!", you exclaim. A tired groan draws your attention to Beomgyu as he props himself up on his elbows. "Shit, do you always have this much energy in the morning?" he yawns. "What time is it?" you shriek as you try to get out of bed, only to be stopped by hand on your wrist. "Too fucking early for you to be actin' like this", he says in his deep morning voice, fuck it was so sexy.

Quickly shaking such thoughts away you try and wriggle out of his grip, "I need to go". Beomgyu sits up completely as he frowns, "was I that bad?" His words make you falter as your cheeks heat up, "I- no it was amazing I mean, you were amazing I-" you clear your throat awkwardly. He chuckles as he runs his free hand through his hair, "then why the rush?" "I have to get to work! I'm surely late already!", you finally free yourself from his grasp as you start searching his room for your clothes.

"Lookin' for something?" he drawls behind you making you turn to him. A shit-eating grin plastered on his face, as he dangles your panties by his pinky finger. "Give me that!" you scowl, attempting to snatch your panties back but failing. He shakes his head, "you can't just leave me like that, I'll be needing something to keep me company", he smirks. "You're nasty", you comment as you throw on you pjyamas from the day before, Beomgyu's smirk widens, "you love it".

Rolling your eyes, you resist the urge to smack him. Hesitating in the doorway of his bedroom you glance back at him. "I'm expecting you to return those to me when I'm back from work today", you say, crossing your arms. "So you want me to come over for a round two?" Beomgyu grins as he twirls your panties around on his fingers, "I- that's certainly not what I meant- I-", you stammer, "j-just bring my damn panties back to me or you're dead meat".

Beomgyu chuckles, "yes ma'am". He was dead set on that second round when you came home, but for now your panties would suffice.

#txt #txt fanfic #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu #beomgyu #txt smut #txt beomgyu #beomgyu post #beomgyu smut

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masuchu · 4 months

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“𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆?” [WRIOTHESLEY]

what happens when your gaze is hopelessly bound to those seemingly innocent, but inexplicably lewd handcuffs your boyfriend constantly carries around with him? ‧₊˚

genre. smut! nothing actually happens, but the entire thing is extremely suggestive, mentions of bondage & punishment, manhandling lol

pairing. wriothesley x reader

love, masu. ah, i think this is an amazing way to get myself back into writing on this blog again! my real writing style is finally being shown haha, none of that sickly, too cute stuff. hope you enjoy!!!!! let me know if you want a part two :))

Wriothesley always spoke with such a sultry, sickening tone that left you feeling your heartbeat in places you usually do not. Perhaps the gentle rasp was what left you so at his mercy? Or maybe, the simple yet defined vocabulary he used when explaining his day, or in other, more intimate moments, what he would like to do to you.

Having said all of this, why could you care not a shred for his words this very moment? Why were absolutely none of his sentences registering in you hazed mind? Instead of paying attention like a lover should, you had your hungry eyes pinned on those alluring, metal cuffs dangling from his belt. The images they conjure, the activities they connote: it all left you salivating and shuddering in the office of the infamous Duke. (Or in terms more personal to you, your lover.)

“Like I said, the prisoners become rowdy when they get bored. I’ll need to implement— Sweetheart, are you listening?” Wriothesley’s eyes dragged across your abnormal, quivering form and he mentally concluded that something was … distracting you.

You jumped out of fear of your daydreams being exposed, but also in mild concern of the daydreams themselves and their insatiable nature. Nodding fast like a guilty toddler, you blurted,

“Oh, I have never been better! Whatever gives you the impression I am not okay?”

The man in question took a careful glance at your wide, doe eyes and stiff form. Suddenly, his head tipped back just an inch or two, and a low chuckle departed from his lips. (The action having a much more arousing effect on your nether regions than you would ever admit.)

“I said ‘are you listening’, not ‘are you okay’. Well done for exposing yourself, sweetness.”

If only he knew what else you were hiding, you thought gravely to yourself. In a naïve belief that he had unknowingly saved you from a mortifying admission, you attempted to go along with his interpretation of your abnormality.

“How silly of me! I really am not with it-!”

Your hips were suddenly locked in solid grip, hard enough to invoke deep, purple bruises along your skin, and you were yanked into a firm but comfortable chest. A chest you knew all too well.

“Also, don’t think I didn’t noticed the way you were looking at my handcuffs, pretty. Got something you wanna’ tell me?”

“You’re mistaken, I— It was simply a one time glance! Absolutely nothing to do with—!”

Your boyfriend removed one hand from your waist and weaved the remaining arm tightly around your waist entirely, keeping you firm against him. His now free hand took a delicate hold of your jaw, and whilst lifting it up his face travelled closer to yours. His hot breath fanned over your lips, and all you wanted for him to rearrange your guts then and there.

“Ah, and now you’re lying? Lying is not very becoming, especially not on you. It makes you bad, and do you know what I do to bad girls?”

His ragged yet stylish hair, his impenetrable, piercing eyes, his strong hold on your body. The physique of a God, you thought. Every aspect of him, how his eyes were intently fixes on yours, waiting for you to answer his question, to use your words— as he was always so keen on you doing. It all came together to allow you to blurt out such a meek, pitiful and uncertain whimper,

“You punish them, Your Grace?”

A devilish smirk tugged on his lips.

“Clever girl. Your little … imaginations might just be brought to life far earlier then you expected. Now strip.”

2023 © masuchu , do not repost, reword, plagiarise, take inspiration, translate or share my work anywhere!

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ sincerely me ‹𝟹 #genshin impact #genshin #wriothesley #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley genshin impact #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #tee hee #guys this is just a starter in the feast i have prepared …#i’m really hoping this does well over night and that my cuties havent abqndoned me 😭😭#anyways

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mangoposts · 5 months

Text

Love 🔞

M.S

“So beautiful baby..” He trails, his eyes scanning slowly over my body from under him. My body is relaxed from the pillow Matt placed onto the floor in front of him for my knees. I can feel how my eyebrows are furrowing and how wide my eyes are from how i’m looking up at him with nothing but eagerness from my spot on the floor as his icy eyes stare back into mine. I gulp slightly when he bends over and reaches his hand down to lift my chin up further with his fingertips and view the exposed skin of my neck and collarbones, grinning to himself as he examines the purple marks he’d caused to seep deep into my flesh.

He runs his cold palm down my neck, tracing over the marks before I feel his hands make their way back up to my face, he taps my right cheek with two fingers expectantly. Grinning further when I pick up what he was putting down and open my mouth for him to slip his fingers into.

“So beautiful and so polite, always paying attention.” His praise burns my heart while he moves his fingers in and out of my mouth and I suck on them softly, making sure to maintain eye contact when I swirl my tongue around his fingertips. He’s staring down at me with cold eyes and his mouth hung open slightly, completely immersed in watching me suck on his slender fingers from below him before he decides to torture me, I feel as he presses down on my tongue with both fingers, stopping my actions of sucking on them.

“Tell me, y/n. Tell me how good you are for me.”

I feel my throat begin to close and my neck heat up while he presses harder onto my tongue, pinning it to the bottom of my mouth and I curse him in my head when I realize he’s testing me. Testing how good I can be for him, what I’d do for him regardless of how pathetic it makes me look.

But him and I know already how desperate I am for him,

“I-i’m your good g-girl.” I struggle, the heat from my neck spreading to my face as embarrassment blossoms through my chest. Even though I think i sound silly, Matt’s hard on couldn’t be more evident through his sweatpants as he smirks and runs his other hand through my hair. Although satisfied, he can’t help but tease me further since he’s enjoying this all too much. Enjoying the power I’m emitting to him, how willing I am to please him.

It’s entertaining for him.

“That’s right baby, you’re my good girl. And I love you so deeply.” With his condescending actions and such sickeningly sweet words combined, i feel the heat pool between my thighs as I begin to rub them together, now extremely desperate for his touch. But Matthew could do this all day, sit here with his fingers in my mouth and stare down at me while I kneel at his feet like some pet. Sweet talk me and watch me get more worked up as the seconds go by. This was Matt’s favourite.

“Don’t you love me too?” He mocks as he brings his face closer to mine. I nod my head slowly while staring into his eyes, with his face so close to mine I want nothing more than to kiss his lips and moan into his hot mouth. But I’d never be anything less than good for Matthew.

“Say it.“ His tone is much colder now, the hint of playfulness behind his words long gone while he continues burning his eyes into mine, barely even blinking unlike me, who’s eyes are fluttering and throat is closing.

“I love y-you more, Matt.” I try to speak from my throat to avoid sounding silly, but with his fingers still harshly pressing onto my tongue and his eyes making me slightly stunned, it still came out shaky and slurred. He smiles before removing his fingers and grabbing my chin shortly as if to say I did good before he leans back to sit straight and begins untying his pants, pulling them and his briefs down at his ankles before putting my hair into a makeshift ponytail and slightly pushing me forward towards his bare dick. My mouth being inches apart from it as I continue to stare back up at him from on my knees.

“Show me how much you love me.”

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut #christopher sturniolo smut

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etfrin · 6 months

Text

→ ❝Lipstick Stains and Love Bites | Ethan Landry❞´ˎ-

Warning - NSFW | blowjob, making out, | lmk if I forgot anything.

Ethan Landry x afab! Reader

| masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune

A/N: this was my first time writing a blowjob, help, was it good?

Summary - you mark his neck with pretty love bites and his dick with your favorite lipstick shade!

Being on Ethan's lap was a huge comfort for you after a tiring day. Your head is on his shoulder, softly breathing onto his skin as he wraps his arm around you to hold you.

Neither of you was talking, but basking in each other's comfort. His body heat is reassuring, and how his chest rises with each breath calms you down. Making you melt into him.

This was mundane. This was everything.

Taking in his scent, citrus, and something woody. You decided to press your lips onto his neck. Something seemingly innocent. You wanted to pepper kiss him all over because of love.

He doesn't say anything but lets out a sigh, his body relaxing even more beneath you as he feels your lips. He tilts his head to give you more access and that was all the permission you needed.

You start slowly, your lips pecking his skin in innocent kisses until your mouth finds a spot it particularly likes. And without even realizing you started to suck. It was soft, nothing to form a hickey over.

But you felt his breath hitch from the action. He made a sound that was filled with need. A small, deep groan escaped him.

It makes you suck the spot harder. Your teeth now meet the skin for a soft bite. He groans louder. Your lips get faster, the skin turning into a pretty shade of red. Your teeth again meet the flesh to bite. You lick around the mark to soothe the pain. The first love bite of the day.

What started as just mere cuddling now turned into something more. You made sure not a single inch of his skin escaped the assault of your lips. Meanwhile, all Ethan did was let out encouraging groans and squeeze your hip with his hand urging you to continue. His erection poked your thigh but you were too busy painting this boy's bruises to give it much-needed attention.

You lean back, breathless from your actions of the past minute to admire the art you made on his skin. All red and the beginning of purple forming on his neck at various places with various sizes. Poor boy would have to wear a turtleneck for a week after this.

You bite your lower lip, feeling yourself getting needy but you want to make this about him. So, ignoring your pleasure for the moment you decided to reward your boyfriend for how good he is.

Remembering the lipstick he gave you last week gave you a filthy idea you wanted to play out. You got out of bed which made Ethan whine, “Babe, where are you-” You shot him a look, reassuring him that it wasn’t over just yet. Looking through your drawers, you finally found the lipstick he bought you last week. It was a sudden gift, you remembered all the blushing and fumbling he did as he had handed you the gift saying you would look so beautiful with this shade on your lips.

Now, it’s time to find out if this shade of red would look pretty smeared all over his cock.

You apply the lipstick, enjoying the confusion on his face. His eyes glossed with pleasure and lust, His brown curls were a mess with how much your finger ran through, and his body was flushed with a shade lighter than the lipstick you were wearing right now. You find your way back to his lap.

“How do I look?” you asked him, your tone teasing. “Beautiful,” he whispers, breathless and rough, “But, baby, I need you-”

You find yourself interrupting his sentence by saying with a smile of a siren, “How do you think this shade will look smeared on your cock?”

It took him a moment to realize what you meant. You knew you would always remember the way his eyebrow furrowed in question and the click of his brain as his eyes widened and he finally got what you meant by that. Oh, he was so adorable. He lets out a deep groan, “Please, love, please..” He pulls you into a sudden kiss. A yelp escaping your lips at the suddenness of his soft lips meeting with yours. He tasted the donuts you shared with him earlier today. He tasted heavenly. He kissed you like a man starving. As if his kiss were a form of worship. You moan into his mouth, overwhelmed by the intensity he was showing.

The kiss breaks, leaving both of you breathless. ”Please,” he whispers, the lipstick staining his lips. After pressing another soft kiss on his lips, you go down and unzip his pants.

You find yourself stroking his cock in that tight grip he likes, a breathless whine leaving his mouth as his eyes shut close from feeling the softness of your palm around his girth. His hips jerk, fucking your fist at a sensual pace.

His angry red tip forms beads of pre-cum that you lean forward to lick. The salty taste of his cum makes you whine softly, his hips jerking a bit faster as he feels your tongue glide across his cockslit. He groans, "Please, stop teasing."

You chuckle as he continues to plead. Your lips move down on his length, kissing his dick so the lipstick would be smeared while your tongue would trace the pulsing veins of his cock. You could feel it twitch. 'Cute' you think before deciding to put the boy out of his misery.

You start taking his length into your mouth slowly, making sure to cover your teeth. Maybe it was desperation, maybe it was needed but Ethan's hip bucked into your mouth, the tip of his dick hitting your throat.

His eyes widen when you choke around his cock, saliva coating your lower chin. Neither of you move as you get used to his length. "I- I am sorry-" Ethan whines, "You feel so good…"

Ignoring his apology, knowing that you'll get him back later for this. You start to suck, your tongue swirling around his cockhead and the veins. You close your eyes and let yourself indulge. You start slow, bobbing your head up and down.

You hold Ethan's hand and place it in your hair. You felt him stroke through his hair as he began to shallowly thrust into your mouth, making sure not to gag you. "This feels so good, you feel so perfect," he whimpers, "Ah… your mouth is so warm, fuck, love."

When he sees you, your mouth stretches to accommodate his thick length, your drool rolling down your chin, and lipstick smeared on your face. He was done. The hand that was stroking your hair, gripped your locks tightly, keeping your head in place. You open your eyes in question, you take in the sight of a debauched Ethan. "Sorry," he whispered, "I'll cum soon, so just take it… alright."

With that warning, he begins to thrust into your mouth without care whether you choke or gag. He moans, "You look so beautiful like this, I couldn't control myself. You're so pretty. You were born to suck my cock, right? I am sorry- I am sorry for being so rough."

He whines as he continues to thrust into the wet heat of your mouth, you moaning around his length, the vibration of the sound making this so much better.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed as he kept bucking his hips into your mouth. He moans out your name as thick ropes of cum fill your mouth, some spilling and painting your chin because you couldn't swallow it all.

He takes his cock out of your mouth and wipes the drool and his cum off your face. When he opens his mouth to apologize yet again, you shush him by saying, "I'll get you back for it, E. Sometimes you keep forgetting that you're just a toy. Now lay down, pretty boy, I am not done yet."

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4ngel-inc · 3 months

Text

HEADCANONS ABOUT SIGMA'S PRETTY COCK + HIS FIRST TIME ᰔ ㅤ⊹ ˖ ࣪ ⋆ .

notes / warnings: fem reader. a very inexperienced (virgin) and needy sigma !! kinda (slightly) dominant reader, but mostly b/c sigma is just less experienced than you. 1k words.

sigma isn't very experienced the first time you two hook up, but he's eager to learn and dying to feel the brush of someone else's skin on his—for all that he's heard about it, he does feel a little left out that he's not experienced anything even close to sex before, only kissing and making out before he met you, but never going all the way.

but you, you're so pretty—so perfect—he can't think of a single reason why he wouldn't want to give himself to you. there's nothing on his mind but the pleasure you're about to bring him in that moment when your hands are finally on him, slipping under his shirt and caressing his sides softly, the touch almost electric to him.

"hmm-" you pull away from his lips after a few tender kisses, still stroking his sides, "are you sure you want to do this, babe? i don't mind waiting. . ." his little whimper in response is desperate and pleading as he pulls you back in, completely enraptured with the taste of your lips, his eyes surely betraying how willing he is to beg you to continue.

"p-please," his kisses grow more sloppy and fervent, "i need this. i want to know what it feels like."

you sigh, kissing him chastely once more before sliding your hands higher, his arms raising instinctually as you pull his shirt over his head. "mmh, you're so gorgeous, sigma." he loves hearing his name on your lips—it makes him feel more human, more comfortable in his own body.

your fingers drift over his soft skin, untouched and perfectly pale as you slowly drop to your knees, placing gentle kisses down his chest and abs as you do. your eyes tell him you want to take things slow, that you want him to be comfortable, and he's grateful for it.

"can i?" you ask politely, a flirty little smile gracing your lips as he nods, your hands moving afterwards to unzip his pants and rub the growing bulge under his briefs. "i can't wait to see, i just know your cock is beautiful." he blushes at that. it's a lot to take in—all of your teasing touches and filthy words that are so new to him, but so enticing nonetheless.

you tease him a bit more, making him squirm before pulling his underwear down and releasing his cock, the both of you watching it bounce and slap against his stomach as you do. "wow. . ." it's the first word on your lips when you set your sights on his cock for the first time, and he can't help but feel his almost nonexistent ego swell a little at that—he knows he's of average length, but he's always thought he had a nice looking cock, not that he had anything to compare it to. "so pretty, just how i pictured it," your warm smile makes him feel safe and loved as he exhales a sigh of relief, growing bolder at your compliment.

"you filthy girl," he laughs, relishing in his now relaxed demeanor, "thinking about me in such a state." he runs his fingers through your hair as his eyes soften, admiring you and all of your pretty features.

you trace your fingers delicately over his shaft, tickling each nerve and making his legs twitch—the milky tone of his skin adds a sharp contrast to the purple and pink veins decorating his cock, and he's hopeful you'll like it, growing more optimistic when he sees you lick your lips.

"mmm, look at all these pretty veins," you slide your tongue up and down his shaft for the first time and his moan is unlike anything he's ever heard escape his lips. he feels like he should be embarrassed about it, but it's the furthest thing from his mind—you always make him feel at home with you.

"oh- that feels so good."

you smirk at him, "i haven't even started yet, and you're already coming undone for me, babe."

"only for you," he smiles genuinely and his words hold nothing but the truth, he's weak for you. "please, keep going, give me more—i want everything."

you take him into your mouth, swallowing him slowly as his head rolls back, "i never imagined this could feel so good, your mouth feels like heaven." whatever heaven is, in his little world or yours, he can't think of a better way to describe the way he feels—his connection to you is blissful and euphoric and altogether consuming him entirely.

"you like that?" your hand works harder and faster, the little muscles in your shoulder and forearm flexing as you stroke him and suck him off at the same time, only the sounds of his whimpers and cries of your name and the wetness of your palm sliding against him filling the room.

"i like it so much, so much- gonna cum already, 's that okay, love?" he's more than ready to blow his load at any second, the lack of experience that has his dick so sensitive to each of your touches betraying him—he doesn't wait for an answer, can't wait, as he fills your mouth, spilling down your throat as he groans deeply, still so needy for more of you.

he doesn't give himself time to come down before he's kissing you again, grabbing everywhere he can and rutting against you, rubbing his cock against your jeans until he's rock hard again.

"can i fuck you now? i wanna fuck you- i wanna taste you, i want-" he isn't sure he even knows what he's saying anymore, his mind clouded with all of the ways he wants to feel you. "sit on my face, ride me, fuck me, anything, please."

sigma doesn't think he'll ever be the same after this, you've unlocked something inside he wasn't sure existed, but he's grateful he's found it—he won't waste a single moment again.

#— love notes: [sigma] ୧ ‧₊#bsd x reader #sigma x reader #bsd smut #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #sigma x you #sigma x y/n #bsd headcanons #bsd fluff

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hairyjocktf · 2 months

Text

A Growing Love

It was the best night of Kyle’s life. He had finally worked up the courage to ask his gym crush Alex out, and to his absolute surprise he had said yes. They’d met up for lunch on Saturday and the date was going so well that by dusk there was little space between them as they cuddled on Kyle’s leather couch. The movie on the TV had no one watching it as Alex’s hands worked their way under Kyle’s shirt, tracing over his well defined abs in a way that made Kyle shudder with pleasure. He locked eyes with Alex, the man’s short brown hair glowing in the last purple rays of the sunset. Alex moved his hands upward, pulling Kyle’s shirt up and over his head to reveal his toned and smooth upper body. Kyle was always a little insecure that he wasn’t super muscled but what he did have he kept in good shape. Alex felt his hands along Kyle’s body, moving up from his abs to his pecs, before pinching his nipples to get a moan out of Kyle. Alex could feel Kyle’s cock pushing from inside his sweatpants, growing harder by the second; he moved one of his hands down to address it personally.

Kyle was in absolute heaven. Alex continued making advances, stripping Kyle of all his clothes and feeling his smooth body move under his touch. Alex grinned at the state he had Kyle in. He leaned down and whispered into Kyle’s ear.

“I want you to grow, babe,” he said softly.

“Wha-” Kyle began to say before Alex put his finger to his mouth, shushing him.

“Don’t worry about it, let me take it from here,” Alex said assuringly. Kyle’s eyes closed as he fell back into his relaxed state. Alex bent his head down and began kissing Kyle’s chest. Within seconds the pecs began pushing out, inflating slowly as they put on years worth of size in seconds. The massive pillows looked out of place on the rest of his thin body. But that wouldn’t last for long, as Alex began kissing his way down Kyle’s torso, with the same growth following. Kyle’s abs, only visible from him being so skinny, vanished as his stomach packed on mass, growing out into a large belly. Muscle was definitely growing under there, but under a thick layer of fat and bulk now. Pleased with this, Alex continued further, his lips gracing Kyle’s rock hard cock Kyle felt himself getting harder than he ever had before, as without knowing his cock began to grow, pushing 6, 7, 8 inches and growing thicker around. His balls swelled in size and hung lower in their sack. Another moan slipped out of Kyle’s mouth as precum gushed from his now massive cock. Alex moved back up and planted his lips straight onto Kyle’s, cutting his moan short. Locked in that passionate embrace, Kyle’s jaw began to square and sharpen and his brow jutted out just a little more than it had.

He was really starting to look more masculine now, to Alex’s delight. But those twiggy arms and legs had to go. He started at the bony shoulders, planting kisses along Kyle’s collarbone and moving towards his bicep. The area inflated like a balloon, his shoulders packing on size and growing to truly boulder size. The bicep was next receiving the same treatment, exploding with muscle mass with his tricep not far behind. Thick veins appeared as the muscle stretched his skin and pushed out from his previously skinny frame. Finally his forearms and hands bulked up, becoming thick and manly. Alex repeated with the other arm until his upper body was sublime; Incredibly strong and muscled with a good layer of fat covering it, giving him the look of almost a strongman. Alex quickly moved down to his legs, kissing down his thighs as the quad muscles enlarged to unreal proportions, before softening just a bit from fat. His calves follow suit bulking up nicely, and lastly his feet expanded to size 16 from what had been puny size 9 feet. Kyle was a beast of a man now, built like a truck and oblivious to it all. He had been in a trance of ecstasy, the growth felt so good that he couldn’t move or resist if he had wanted to. Alex leaned back and laughed as he took in what he had done.

Alex went back to rubbing his hands over Kyle’s body, feeling the new mass of his frame. It was sexy, but he felt something was missing. Paying no mind to Kyle’s moaning, Alex spat directly on Kyle’s chest and began to rub it into his skin. Kyle groaned loudly as thick, blonde hairs began to break the skin, curling out first from around his nipples before spreading like a wildfire across his chest. The hairs grow thicker and denser as they coated his pecs in a thick rug of hair. His follicles were working in overdrive pumping out hair after hair, his chest hair growing so thick you couldn’t see the skin below. He worked his way south, watching Kyle’s gut erupt with thick blonde fur. The hairs raced down from his chest and erupted across the expansive, coating his muscular belly.

Satisfied, Alex raised Kyle’s arm to reveal a pitiful few wispy hairs in it. He spat into the nearly bare pit, working it into the skin. Immediately, blonde hairs began worming their way out. The hairs grew and grew, twisting through Alex’s fingers as they blossomed from the formerly smooth skin. His pit filled up with an incredibly thick bush of dirty blonde hairs, enough to really trap the sweat in there and stink. And stink they already did. Alex stuck his nose in and took a whiff of the sweaty musk that was already building. He repeated the process in Kyle’s other armpit, his body squirming as hair burst out. More moans escaped Kyle’s lips as the pleasure built and built.

Alex spat into his hands and began massaging Kyle’s bulky shoulders, causing hairs to start springing up. The fur worked its way from his chest up and over his shoulders, with more curly hairs sprouting by the second. His arms were not spared as thick coarse blonde hairs coated his forearms, hands, and even his upper arms. Alex watched as the back of Kyle’s thick hand sprouted long hairs, slowly inching their way from his wrist towards his knuckles.

Kyle groaned as he felt fur engulfing his body, but was too enraptured in the feeling of absolute bliss to care. His mouth hung open, allowing Alex to lean over and spit in his mouth, following it up with a full kiss. Kyle’s jaw itched as blonde stubble began to poke through, giving him a light chinstrap before spreading out. It grew thick and bushy, a real beard beginning to sprout on his face. The hairs crawled up his cheeks giving him a lush coating before the growth descended, racing down his neck. The thick hairs quickly met up with his chest fur, connecting and making sure it would always be visible above his shirt.

With a fittingly masculine beard to match the rest of his upper body, Alex was pleased with the bear he was turning Kyle into. He scooted down on the couch and spat on Kyle’s thighs, which were definitely looking barren compared to the rest of him. As he rubbed it in the bulky expanse was quickly encased in a thick mat of hair, covering his thighs completely. Alex moved down to his calves, which were also fully coated. Then Alex got to Kyle’s bare feet. He took his time, slowly massaging them in his hands as curly hairs began to sprout on the top, quickly spreading to coat the entire surface. Thick hairs popped out of the tops of his toes as his feet grew a coat to match the rest of him.

Alex was nearly done, but upon looking over Kyle’s lusciously hairy body he saw one spot left. Alex spat into his hand and began slowly stroking Kyle’s erect cock, which was still leaking copious amounts of precum. As Alex’s hand slid up and down, pubes began to sprout from Kyle’s groin. What was originally a small, sparse bush was quickly growing into a thick forest, as curly blonde hairs erupted from his skin. Kyle uttered a loud moan, feeling the growth in his most sensitive region. Spreading like wildfire, the blonde fur claimed his balls as well, growing into a carpet making them look even larger. Hairs continued to shoot up across his groin, reaching up above his waistline and giving him a thick triangle of fur. Smaller hairs even started sprouting up the base of his cock. Kyle’s buddy shivered from the intense sensation of the hair growing in, and with one final pump of Alex’s hand, his cock erupted. Kyle groaned in pleasure as ropes of thick cum shot into his dense chest hair. He had never felt this good in his life. His cock still dribbling out the end of his massive load, he opened his eyes to see Alex licking the cum caught in his fur.

Kyle finally took stock of what had happened to him while he was under Alex’s trance. He now had a hulking, hairy body of a bear, complete with muscle gut and a fur coat. He could feel immense strength in his beefy body, rubbing his hands through his dense chest pelt. Alex, who had been much larger than him before, now looked small next to him as he laid Kyle’s hairy pecs. He looked up from the furry mounds at Kyle and grinned, feeling accomplished in what he’d done.

#male tf #hairy tf #hairy #hairy chest #hairy pits #beard #bear tf #bear #hair growth #my writing

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alastorsfuckassbob · 3 months

Text

Killing Me Softly- 4

AlastorxFem!Reader part 4

A/N: Ok so this is..uh LONG but its finally here!!! Val's text is in purple, yours is in blue, and Alastor's is red! As always bolded portions are the past..Yes I did revert to using another song sue me. As always: MINORS DNI

Plot: Valentino is a piece of shit You and Al are so shitty at feelings and communication..thats basically it.

⚠️Warnings:⚠️

-Sexual innuendos (they aren't graphic but they are spicy)

-Domestic abuse (this got a lot worse so please be mindful of that and use your own discretion- you are responsible for your internet consumption)

-Alcohol use AND abuse

-Violence!! ~mentions of blood~

-A LOT of cursing 🤠

You had decided to take “small nap” to rid your body of the final remnants of exhaustion from night before. That so called “small nap” somehow lasted a good ten hours, leaving you with only two before you needed to arrive at the club again. You sat on the edge of your bathroom counter, the excess silky fabric of your slip cascading over the edge. You grab a stray eyeshadow pallet and begin to apply your makeup. You had decided on an inky toned smoky eye and a lightly lined liquid lip. It was a bit different from your usual look, but it complemented your new wardrobe perfectly. You glanced over at the folded scarlet fabric, excited to wear it again.

You had decided to get ready at home today. Angel wasn’t working tonight, so there was no sense in being at the club earlier than you really needed to be. You snapped your fingers, and the shadow behind you began to style your h/c hair in his place. It wasn’t often Angel didn’t have to work on a Saturday night. Even in Hell, weekends came with higher foot traffic. Val insisted he had earned a break after yesterday’s long shoot. It was a rare occasion but not entirely out of character. Val couldn’t break his favorite toy.

After a few more pins, the shadow dawned a bright smile and jazz hands upon completing your hair. You looked absolutely gorgeous, the pitch black entity had done a fantastic job. Your hair was twisted into bouncy side swept curls adorned with tiny sparkling gems. You wanted to meticulously appreciate the effort it had so graciously put in, but your guilt riddled conscience kept you from any real form of enjoyment.

You needed to stop thinking of him. The more you let yourself fall back on memory, the more you would love him. The more you loved him ,the more it would hurt when he realized he couldn’t love you anymore. It wasn’t his fault, no one could. This was your penance. It wasn’t supposed to be easy.

Memory had sunk its claws into your wrist. It hopelessly dragged you along by its blood lined chains and scarlet stained fingertips like an old desperate beggar. The hold Valentino had on your soul was insubstantial in comparison to the grasp Alastor had on your heart. You didn’t understand why that was. Val was your whole life, and he would be until eternity itself figured out a way to die. It would make sense for him to reside in the core of your thought, but he didn’t, he never stayed there long.

Unlike Alastor, Val owned you.

Unlike Alastor, he was there

Unlike Alastor,

you could actually feel his lips on your skin.

He had a predictable consistency to him. It was always the same constant battle between his unquenchable hatred and guilty heart.

Val insisted he “loved” you in his own way. From the shackles on your wrists, he had tied you to the stake-All so that he could look for your love. He struck the match against your skin, and lit you both ablaze because he hated that he wanted it. In the end it would never matter how many times the heat touched your skin, it wasn’t going to feel like love.

You knew what that was supposed to feel like. You had shared your heart with a great many souls in your time on Earth. Love was bathed in forgiveness and brushed with magnolia petal kisses. That love didn’t see you through eyes lined with antagonism, sparkled with fury and blended out with shades of exasperation.

Valentino did.

His lips were colored in hot pink brutality. It would smear across your skin with every kiss. He would leave you haloed in messy lipstick stain bruises and be on his way.

His absence never lasted long. The color in his cheeks was permanently rouged with the lethality of your figure. Eventually, the guilt would seep through his pores, and the chemical reaction would wash his face of your blood. He would return with a silver plated tin bracelet and a few mangled words of affirmation.

“ Y/n, you know I love you. I didn’t mean a word of it Mi Amore. You are the most beautiful demon this side of hell. I just get so upset sometimes there’s nothing else I can do. I can’t control my anger Amorcito, you know that.”

It’s not that he couldn’t control his anger, he was fully capable. He just didn’t. He never thought it was important to try. Even in his time on Earth, he didn’t care to put forth the effort. He was born with distain and died with detestation. He had always been this way. The guilt he felt afterward would never amount to the freedom found in his bloodied hands. There wasn't a finite limit to the apologies he could patch the holes he punched into your heart with. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. Any remorse he felt would slip from his conscience like every instance before it. It made sense how quickly he was able to rise into over lord status.

Your focus shifts to the cherry fabric folded beside of you. You haphazardly grab the dress, lifting it over your head. Its crystal beads babbling in your ear as you slide it on. For a moment, the ghost of your human body silhouettes your demonic figure in the mirror. Distant memories began to bubble up to the surface. In the true spirit of avoidance, you hopelessly shut them out as you grabbed your satin purse and walked out the door.

As you left the building the newly warmed breeze swirled through your hair. The sunny weather practically lifting your wings for you as you flew towards the club. You reveled in the distance it granted you from your life. From the above clouds, Hell was actually rather pretty. The seemingly dull color scheme found a bit more variation the higher you flew. The different areas of the city blending into one. With each flap of your wings, the clouds whispered murmurs of freedom into your ears. For just a moment, it almost didn’t feel like hell.

The rest of the flight is relatively peaceful, excluding the occasional scream from the city below. Eventually you arrive at the club and head to your dressing room. You plop down on the velvety plush sofa seated against the wall. It was still a bit early for places, so you elected to read one of Angel’s trashy magazine to pass the time. A ginger knock at the door draws your focus from celebrity scandals and tv drama.

“Amorcito”

Valentino’s voice worms itself into your ear. He leans against the door frame looking for any indication of fear on your face. He didn’t want to scare you off before he had the chance to explain himself. You shoot him a tired glare and return to your magazine. Even if you wanted to answer it’s not like you had the ability to.

“Right, I forgot.” He muses, his smirk practically bleeding into his eyes. With a wave of his hand , the sigil on your wrist begins to spark in a hot pink glow. In a puff of smoke, your voice returns to you.

“Do you need something Val” you ask. It comes out a bit raspier than you had intended. Hopefully he didn't take it as a form of aggression. You had somehow landed yourself in his good graces, and you didn’t want to fall from them any sooner than you had to.

“I can’t have you sitting silent for your dear clients now can I y/n?”

You didn’t respond. Mentally, you rolled your eyes. The statement was laughable. He would tear your soul to pieces if he could hear the sarcasm racketing around your brain at the current moment.

“Mi amor, you know I didn’t mean it. I can’t have my favorite muñeca upset with me, can I?”

You stay silent. Your body still wept with the soreness of the night before, but he had come here with the expectation you would nurse his pride back to health.

“You know that I love you baby” His tone was permeated with an emotion you couldn't quite place. For the first time, the desperation on his face surpassed the bloodlust. It lacked his usual innuendos and crude curses. If you hadn't known better you might have believed he really did- yet something deep within you really did want to believe he could be good. Maybe he didn't love you but he did feel slightly sorry and maybe that would be enough. You stood up from the sofa and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I know you do Val. Don't worry about it" The words are sweet but the emotion behind them is entirely dead. His arm slinked around your waist, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips.

"I want to thank you, for the dress. Its really beautiful. You have great taste” You added. Your hand layered on top of his, a gentle, but very obviously fake smile curving into your lips. Val loved compliments, the antennae on his forehead usually perked up whenever he received one.

To your surprise, he started to laugh, his shoulders shaking in its ferocity. “ Y/n you can’t be serious.”

You didn’t really understand what was funny or why you were nervously laughing along with him. You didn’t have to know why, you just had to go along with it. If you had to guess, he was probably intoxicated in one way or another. Most of the other performers and employees constantly were on some level. It would make sense if he was too. “I’m almost insulted you would even pretend that I would put you in something that tacky, and not to mention conservative. I treat you better than that don’t I?”

With that, you were even more confused..Did he not gift you the dress? Where the hell else would it come from? You couldn't even begin to craft a response. You had to come up with something quickly, and improvisation(lying) was not your best skill. Your mind darted from one lame excuse to another. You didn’t have time to think critically about it you just had to say something.

“Yeah I thought it would be a funny joke, I agree it is a bit old fashioned, It definitely needs a little update..I liked the color though.” You lied straight through your teeth. It wasn't clear if he had bought into your practically incoherent rambling. As all good liars do, you dug the hole a few feet deeper with a few more details to seal the deal. “I wasn’t sure how to alter it so I thought I’d ask you for your opinion”.

Even if the excuse was lame, it covered all the bases.

“In my opinion we shred it” His quiet laugh sounded egotistical to say the least. If something or someone didn't fit his taste he saw no reason why it should exist.

Disappointment drapes your frame from the tips of your horns to the bottom of your heels. Even if the dress had apparently spawned from some freaky stalker, you really did like it.

“Are you sure I couldn’t just wear it as it is for one night? I could add a slit or something for the next time "Hope laced your bargain as you spoke. You knew he would probably say no but you couldn't help but ask.

“Y/n, Baby, as hot as I think you look in anything. This dress is going to need some serious alterations if you expect to wear it in front of our rowdy crowd. I can't let you go out there dressed like a nun, it would be awful for business” His face twists into a sly sneer. An idea bubbled on the surface of his thoughts.Before you can register what is happening, his hands are tracing the outline of your hips. Each separated claw of his fingers ran down your body until they stopped just above the outer edge of each thigh. On the surface the action didn't exhibit his typically harmful nature, but if you dared to look even a fraction of an inch closer you would see its minatory subtext.

“Don’t worry, I think we can figure out something simple out for tonight”. His fingers draw together into a unified line. He digs his nails in a little deeper into you as he drags them down your leg until they reach the floor. He had effectively sliced a high slit on both sides of the dress, with little to no effort. He had pushed a little too deeply in some areas, small pricks of blood leaked from a few irregularly shaped scratches in consequence.

“You look like perfection in red baby”, he breaths out. He stayed crouched on the floor for a moment. You couldn’t tell if he was admiring the surprisingly straight lines of his work or the dots of blood that speckled your skin. He takes your hand in his and places a wet kiss on your wrist where the sigil had been burned into your skin.

“I can’t wait to see you shine tonight Amorcito”

He kissed up your arm as he rose from the floor. The way his tongue slithered around your forearm made you dreadfully uncomfortable. The feeling was slimy and otherwise indescribable. You were almost grateful you didn’t have the words to describe your disgust so that the feeling would die with you instead of being passed around to others by language.

You were eternally grateful when he finally walked through the exit. He was finished with his fun with you, at least for now.The club had opened a little more than ten minutes ago. As its owner, he had an obligation to fulfill his duties (flirt with hot guys) ,and supervise the club floor (get blackout drunk and fuck aforementioned hot guys ). Val loved to watch as sinners got down and dirty in the corners of his dimly lit clubs. It was a bit of an ego boost to know he had helped create an environment that led to that sort of thing. He enjoyed the epigrammatic conversations and miscellaneous substance his customers brought with them. He was great at sharing when it came to things that weren’t his own. He loved to hear them praise his accomplishments, and disclose the desire they shared for him and his performers almost as he loved to get high. By the look of tonights crowd, he was in for another pleasurable evening, or so he thought.

A curt laugh track interrupted the regularly scheduled cycle of conversation. Val’s head practically spun backwards upon noticing the deer eared demon lounging at the edge of the balcony.

"What the fuck is he doing here" Val grunted under his breath. He was supposed to be dead.

Alastor, apparently, never received the memo. He sat with a glass of indifferent whiskey in the VIP segment of the balcony above. He was fitted in a well cut vermilion pin stripe suit and a pair of wing tipped oxfords. Despite his polished exterior and perpetual smile, his eyes were glossed in boredom.

The conversations of lower demons never really intrigued him, they didn't speak much about anything outside of the bounds of recreational drug use. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he had spent time in that particular circle back in his younger days. Perhaps it was the drastic change of aesthetic, or maybe the culture surrounding it had just shifted too much for his liking, but it just didn’t appeal to him anymore. Alastor found the environment dreadfully exhausting. The distinct loud bump of electronic base and synthesized beats made it hard to hear his own thoughts. He was in for a long boring night. There really wasn’t anything more for him to do than pass judgment on the tasteless decor.

He looked around at the tacky overtly sexual paintings hung against the walls. It was one of Valentino’s classier clubs, but that doesn’t mean the interior designer wasn’t entirely delusional when they picked out its color pallet. For lack of a better word, it was just ugly. The Deep pinks and vibrant reds of the walls accented the white porcelain pillars that framed them. (Vaguely reminiscent of a tampon) The dark purple of the leathery chairs somehow blended in with the black marble tile in such a hideous way the word “unity” didn’t even begin to spark his mind.

With the exception of its more intimate performance space and higher end clientele, it wasn’t that much different than the typical club experience Valentino provided. It still featured his usual sex rooms and coke lined tables, despite its overall calmer energy. Alastor didn’t understand how you ended up in a place like this. It didn’t seem like you. He had instructed the newest soul under his contract to follow you and figure out your daily routine and “basic facts of life”. He would never admit it, but he was mostly curious to learn of your relationship status. He wanted to know if you had gotten married or if you had moved on. He had been dead for years ,it would make sense if you had. He didn’t want to step back into your life unless he knew everything.He needed to know what approach would work best on you. “Evidently” you weren’t just outwardly spouting that information into the hilltops. The poor soul came back with a list of two locations and not much else. Naturally, it didn’t get to live much longer. He was not a man to have his time wasted. If he wanted something done correctly the first time he should have just done it himself. So here he was, awaiting your performance.

Valentino walked across the crowded floor, his clenched fists glued to his sides. Alastor’s bored expression made his blood boil. He carelessly dodged dancing couples and trays of champagne in his quiet anger. Val never liked that old timey prick or his rickety dated voice. It grated his ears endlessly, not to mention he was just flat out annoying. If Val wanted to listen to some random lanky old man’s diet British accent and senseless uppity rambles; he would have turned on Downton Abby or some other old pretentious shit. Each step he took towards the radio demon deepened the scowling smirk growing on his face. If Alastor was going to ever so nonchalantly seat him self and a glass of whiskey in the VIP section of HIS club, at least one of them going to have his fun with it.

“I didn't take you to be a fan of my work Alastor, lovely to see you as always” Val slid into the booth across from him. The remaining groups still seated at the surrounding tables grabbed their drinks and found a better place to be. It was a well known fact the two of them weren’t friends

“I am most decidedly not! however the streets of hell will not stop praising a certain canary singing on your steps, and I am by far intrigued" His eyed narrowed as his grin grew wider.

“Oh really? It is my little siren you are interested in? Don’t let her pretty little face fool you, she’s a real bitch to work with. She thinks shes hot shit just because the sound of her voice is enough to chain any demon.” He feigned disinterest, flicking his nails to the side to observing their color.

“Oh really~Where ever did you find her? Surely if she is this talented I would have heard of her already" Agitation seethed through Alastor's voice. He had never liked Valentino, he found his methods to be crude and unseemly. The way he spoke of you hazed Alastor's vision in permanent red. He had killed far greater demons for far less than the disrespect he had sent your way. However, he knew he couldn't act on that urge quite yet. He was on a mission. He needed to know more about why you were here first in the first place. No one here would know better than the sleazy club owner himself.

“ I don’t really think that’s your business" Valentino accused, venom dripping from his tongue. He didn't really care why the radio demon had taken such a fast interest in a lowly sinner like you. It didn't matter. It gave him something to work with. He had something he didn’t. Pride is a fickle thing, he could use this to get under his skin.

He didn't want a physical altercation by any means, not in his own territory anyway. Vox would never let him live it down if he started a fight in his own club and accidentally tore it to the ground in the process. A verbal sparring session would have to do for now. Val loved starting any sort of argument he could conceive.

"My little dove tends to shy away from the limelight. She used to do all of her performances behind a mask, but don’t you worry I was able to coax her out of it." (are you secretly the masked singer?? omg) "You'll be in for a wonderful show tonight." Pride overtook Valentino's usually mendacious features as he spoke. He had something Alastor didn't. Val wanted nothing more than to spark jealousy in his heart. Alastor, wasn't oblivious to his intentions, it just wasn't his primary focus. More-so, he felt frustrated with questions he couldn't ask. You couldn't have been in Hell for more than a few days. How many performances had you really had time for? The possibility you had existed down here for any longer than that didn't exist to him.

"Now Valentino, there's no reason to be secretive, unless you have something to hide. Surely if this woman is as fantastic as you say she is, there is no need to hide the details of her origin, I'm sure it must be quite the story" A deceitful glimmer coruscated his smile, as he took another careless swig of whiskey. His pointed fingers gripped tighter around the glass, cracking its edge.

" Actually-it’s the opposite, trust me its not even worth mentioning” Val laughed. “Why not enjoy the present and focus on her current skillset a? Surely you must have seen her around somewhere, she’s a real star on film." His tone was maliciously sweet, but the dry rasp of his voice revealed the truth. A dark glint flashed in his eyes as he thought of your previous work.

Getting information out of "barney the big purple pimp" Valentino was going to be harder than Alastor had previously anticipated. Any information he might’ve had on you was under lock and key. At this point, he considered just ripping off Valentino's stupid little egg shaped head and calling it a day. He didn't understand what you saw in him or this dingy sweat stained bar. In your time on earth, the two of you had spent many nights dancing together in the speakeasies and glitzy clubs of New Orleans. This wasn't the type of establishment you would usually go in for. He had always known you to see the best in others, even if they so evidently didn't deserve it. You sharpened your sword for those you deemed worthy even if they despised you for it. If you were here it must meant you had seen something worth redemption within him.

"You must be very proud of her accomplishments to rave on about her in this way" Alastor’s voice was fitted in the same snarky tone you often took with Valentino, but unlike you, he could tear the whole club apart with a snap of his fingers. Val didn’t want to deal with that, not here. He would have to wait and slit the radio demon's throat outside of his territory.

"Enjoy the show Alastor.” He quipped promptly showing the conversation to its end. Valentino walked away before he could get in a word otherwise.

Val didn’t know the nature of Alastor’s apparent attraction towards you, but he personally knew the pain desperately wanting something you couldn't have caused. Ironically, Alastor was the indirect cause of that familiarity. Through Valentino's partnership with Vox, obsession had sprouted. Something about the way his televised voice distorted in anger drew him in. He had been caught on his snarky personality and quick wit almost as much as the pitiful reassurances the TV demon would occasionally throw his way. He knew the feelings he had amounted for Vox were never going to be reciprocated. He would never look his way so long as the radio demon walked the streets of hell. Even if Valentino couldn’t bring about his revenge in his typical violent way, he was determined to get it. You were the key he didn’t know he had. After all, no sinner could resist the call of your sweet song or the appeal of your hips. The radio demon would be no different.

Eventually, one of Val’s assistants called you to places. You walk through the backstage area, a trail of glittery red streaming behind you. You always loved the moment before the show began. It was typically quiet, everyone attended to their own business. They rarely stopped to bother you, it offered you a moment of order before the chaos this performance would plunge you into. You grab a sugar rimmed shot glass from underneath the bar cart left for the performers. You didn’t bother to read the labels on the bottle as you poured a heavy handed shot. As soon as the liquid touched your lips you realized it had been gin. Despite the burning in your throat, and the sour taste it left in your mouth, you refilled the glass a few more times. On some level, you felt guilty for the amount of alcohol you had just consumed.On a deeper level, you knew you couldn’t make it through a set without it. It was a means to an end, nothing more.

Valentino’s compulsion for revenge had led him towards the velvety amethyst curtains of the stage you stood behind. Whatever good mood he was in earlier had vanished, his disposition was dripped in murderous rage. He storms up to you, roughly taking your chin in his hand.

“I don't fucking know why or how but the radio demon is here. You better make me look good-I’ve already throughly sung your praises and I will not be embarrassed in front of that shit head” He paced as he spoke hostility following at his heels. “For some reason, he has taken an interest in you. I need you to give an extra little show to the balcony he’s seated in the center. Hes the lanky washed out red asshole with the bitchy little antlers, you can’t miss him.” The words he had spoken jumbled in your brain. You weren’t really paying attention, the calming aura of the alcohol had begun to hit your system.

“I thought he was dead, are you sure it’s him?” you mumbled as you picked of the remaining sugar crystals from your glass.

You had briefly heard of the radio demon in your time-He hadn’t been around for years, most demons speculated that someone finally managed to kill him. He disappeared three years after your arrival in hell, but his methods left a lasting impression. The agonizing screams he had broadcasted still echoed in your dreams occasionally. However, despite your deeply rooted fear, you admired him on some level. He was clever to say the least, and his morals weren’t entirely questionable either. He thought dealing in cheaper souls was crass and frankly unnecessary. He left weaker demons alone, unless they stepped in the way of his path.He wouldn’t pick a fight with anyone he didn’t deem strong enough to fight back.

His hands shoot against your throat, the force of the action drags you into sobriety. His fingers thrust deeper into your skin as he lifts you from the floor by your neck. He had a lot riding on this, and he wasn’t going to let your indifference ruin that. Your grasp on the shot glass loosens as your vision begins to spot from the lack of oxygen. It falls from your hand and shatters with the impact.

“Your job isn’t to ask questions, it’s to get out there and make me look good” he drags your body closer and growls into your ear.

He slams your body against the floor of fragmented glass. The sole of his foot makes contact with the palm of your hand, pushing the shards deeper into your skin. Crimson flowed through the wounds in a steady pour. Hot tears took residence in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

“ If you fuck this up for me, I’ll do a lot worse than just take your voice Y/n. You don’t want to see me angry. I promise you, you won’t like it.” His foot presses harder against your skin. His dark tone sends shivers down your spine. He had released his grasp on you, but the syllables that slithered out of his mouth constricted around your throat.

Despite your decision not to cry, the tears began to spill. They weren’t entirely motivated by the pain. The situation had become too similar to those that had existed in your life, and this was your body’s reaction to that. The heat from his glare could have cauterized your wounds. He removed his foot from your hand as he crouched down next to your tear stained figure. His fingers graze the edges of your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he wipes droplets from your face.

“I can’t wait to see you tonight Amorcito, you always put on such a good show for me.” He kisses your injured hand, the cuts begin to close as his lips come into contact with your skin. He licks the remaining blood from his lips and returns to the club floor- leaving you in a pool of maroon colored regret and splintering glass.

You watch the stage manager’s eyes roll as they grab a mop to clean up the mess. Whatever they were getting payed, it wasn’t enough. Although the ordeal wasn’t out of the ordinary, it was definitely inconvenient. You stand up from the floor brushing the remaining glass off of your dress and walk through the curtains and onto the stage. Even without a physical mask, you were still wearing one. You dawned a bright sultry smile and an uppity attitude as you waved to your adoring fans. At times the outlandishly theatric persona could be fun. The ecstatic cheers of the crowd after each movement made you feel powerful in an odd way. The attention often fueled your performance into the more seductive destination Val had wanted to begin with. It was a means to an end, nothing more.

“Good evening to all of my lovely sinners in the audience” The sound of your voice echoed over the endless chatter of the club. You sat down at the edge of the rounded stage, your legs dangling over its edge. The short demon in front of you practically drooled as your body edged a little more off the platform in his direction. You noticed his reaction and wanted to take things a step further. Your wings spread, taking you closer to the table he sat at, the edge of your finger tilting his head up to meet your own.

“I’ve got a wonderful show in store for just you tonight” Seduction over took your tone as you blew the demon a kiss leaving the entire table absolutely dumbfounded. You travel back to the stage with various sexual remarks towards the other inhabitants. You sit back on the stage, slowly extending your legs to the side, crossing them as you do. You tease the slits in your dress to the side revealing a bit more skin. The patrons erupt into a sea deafening screams.

The lights suddenly cut out, you dissipated with them. The shred of an electric guitar echoed throughout the space. An array of red and purple spotlights flood the center of the stage. You reappear in a puff of smoke as they do. The music was a bit “edgier” than what you’d usually go for. The genres you listened to spanned a vast array of styles, but you usually preferred to sing the softer tunes of the earlier decades. Valentino’s typical clientele however, needed a newer, rougher pop/rock sound. The drum set clicks in tandem with the percussive click of your heels as you begin your dance.

A wickedly wide grin stretches across your face, you were ready to start the show. You began to sing.

“I heard he sang a good song

I heard he had a style”

This was your compromise. You could sing anything you wanted to so long as you updated the instrumentals. Most of the people in the club were too wasted to listen to the lyrics anyway. It didn’t really matter what you sang as long as you sounded good and looked hot doing it. Hell’s population would eat up anything you served them. Their mouths began to water as you drop to the floor, arching your back away from them. The music flowed through you, awakening a deep sensuality in your movement . Each twist of your hips accented the intense chords and high hat hits of the accompaniment. Your hair formed a halo around you as you turned onto your back. Your legs extend into the air earning an influx of vulgar cheers from the surrounding demons. Any softness your voice had once held disappeared as growled into the next phrase.

“And so I came to see him

To listen for a while”

You slowly slid up from the floor, your hands following the shape of your curves until they reached pit of your neck. Your fingers splayed against its circumference as you rolled your eyes back into your head. You glanced up to the balcony to make sure the radio demon was watching, the dim lighting prevented you from seeing anything more than his silhouette.

Alastor wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the glance you threw him, or your performance. On the one hand, he was endlessly enamored with you. Alastor would have dedicated the rest of his life to sing your praises in that moment if you had just asked him to. He loved to listen to you sing and watch you dance in any context.

On the other hand however, it made him extraordinarily jealous. He hated the lewd comments and desire filled glances of the other demons around him. It made sense they were attracted to someone like you, but that doesn’t mean he liked that they were. He would remember each face that dared utter such filthy things about you, and deal with them later. His attention shifted back to your voice as you spun your voice into a decadent riff.

“And there he was this young boy

A stranger to my eyes”

You turned upstage to the silver pole that spun in its center. Hundreds of eyes glazed over in pure lust as your spine pressed against the pole. You were practically suffocated with screams as your form flipped upside down. You dropped one arm from the pole, the tips of your wings grazing the floor as your newly freed hand followed the lines of your body.

Your exaggerated and frankly pornographic expressions as you twisted against the pole made Alastor apprehensive. The feeling of unease was not caused by disgust but concern. As much as he loved to listen to you sing, this didn’t feel right for him to watch. It felt too fake. You looked far too uncomfortable for his liking.He had seen you in a more intimate light before. Even decades later the mere thought of your gentle gasps and fluttering lashes dragged him up from hell and sent him straight to heaven. He was familiar with the grind of your hips against his own, and the feeling of your hands in his. He knew every freckle on your body and the exact degree of your spine’s curvature. He loved nothing more than to worship each fold in your figure. He adored the gentle light that always seemed to flicker in your eyes in those sensitive moments. He reveled in your loving glances and gentle touches he was not bothered with the sexuality of it all but rather its performative nature. This felt too over the top. Despite your energetic movements and sensual smile, your eyes were cold and dead. He didn’t want his memory caught on your legs wrapped around his waist or his head between your thighs if it was just a performance. It didn’t feel right to. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and focused on the sound of your voice. Even with its dolorous tamber the whisper of your gentle heart found its way to seep through.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words

Killing me softly with his song"

You notice Val seated between two tall blonde demons with their legs crossed over his. He was very clearly not impressed with them or your movements on the pole. His disinterest grew with each sip of his drink. He gives you a pressing look. In that moment you knew exactly what he wanted. He had had enough of your stalling. You looked good but you needed to look better.

"Killing me softly with his song

Telling my whole life with his words

Killing me softly with his song"

With a slight roll of your eyes, you fly up to the balcony. You place yourself onto the thick marbled railing with your back to the radio demon. With a quick twist your of your hips, you straddle the banister your body rolling against it ever so slightly. You make direct eye contact with the patron in the center booth. He wore a mask crafted in wilted black rose petals and the scent of death, but underneath he held your late lover’s face. His deep red eyes meet your own e/c ones The glimmer of his previously golden swirled dark brown eyes clashed against his current ghostly red ones He brushed a strand of his straightened two toned hair to the side of his face. He carried the same nose, body, and expression as Alastor- Your Alastor. You turn upstage to compose yourself. You sway your hips to the beat of the music in order to keep up appearances. You turn your weary head behind you to his table to make sure you hadn’t imagined it. Even in its outstretched state, his smile gave him away. It really was him. After years of searching, you had finally found him, or better yet, he found you. For just a moment, you had forgotten your penance and your heart flowed with oceans of love. You floated within them in pure ecstasy. In that moment, and animosity you held for him faded away with the weight of your excitement.

"I felt all flushed with fever

Embarrassed by the crowd"

Abruptly the realization hits you, he was seated where the radio demon should have been- that must mean that Alastor; Your Alastor, was the radio demon. Your mind flipped to the initial radio broadcast he first spoke to you with, as well as the note signed “yours truly”. Alastor had used that phrase so often as a sign off from the radio show…..Perhaps you weren’t the sharpest little crayon in the demon filled box- considering the embarrassingly long time it took you to put the pieces together.

"I felt he found my letters

And read each one out loud"

Realizing this sent a wave of relief through you. Perhaps he could free you from this life, he was one of the strongest demons in hell. If anyone could break your contract with Valentino, it would be him...Would he even consider it? Your mind swirled in a storm of questions. Why the sudden change? As the relief of the initial realization began to fade and a new understanding took root. He had left you in life, why would he want to help you now?

You couldn’t help but wonder why he was really here. Considering his previous track record, nothing made sense. Why would he speak to you within his broadcast, or gift you the dress, or show up to your workplace if he hadn’t payed you any mind in such a long time?

He must have wanted something from you. That would be the only logical reason for his sudden appearance. If he truly had always been the radio demon, he held power. He had all of the necessary resources to find you and he never did. He didn’t need to.

"I prayed that he would finish

But he just kept right on"

You think back to the various gifts he would purchase you before he asked something of you, or the roses he would send to your apartment if you two had an argument in your life together. Your years of wondering why he had left boiled down to one simplistic answer…He had always just needed something. The more you thought on this, the more painfully obvious it became. He wasn’t here because he loved you. He was only here because you had become convenient again.The second he deemed you impractical, he would leave you as he had before.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words"

You fly away from the balcony, sliding down the metal pole in the center of the stage to reach the floor. You were thankful the stage lights blinded you from his pressing gaze once you were on the ground. You would ignore the balcony entirely for the remainder of the performance. It didn’t matter if Valentino would be upset, you couldn’t bear to look at Alastor anymore- Yet even with your newfound distance, he had chained you to memory. You were transported back to the downtown apartment in which you had previously spent so many hours with him in.

1930 New Orleans: Your apartment

The candlelit room was a patchwork of miscellaneous vintage furnishings and modern decorative trinkets. You had moved into your apartment not long after your father had passed. Most of the items within it were gifted to you upon his death. He preferred victorian architecture over all else, it was natural his taste in interior design would follow. You leaned against the sage patterned love seat with a cooling cup of tea in hand. The star speckled sky, and tepid air of late April seep through your opened window.

You awaited the arrival of your lover. Alastor wasn’t a man to be late. He was meticulously early and always prepared. His absence had begun to torment you in anxiety. The grandfather clock stationed in the corner of the room struck midnight, furthering your worries. He was supposed to arrive at 7:30, obviously it was long past that.

He had promised to take you out dancing to make up for the late hours he had begun to keep at the studio. He had become more withdrawn than you cared to admit. He disappeared for days at a time. On the few days you managed to get ahold of him, he dismissed you, insisting he needed to keep working on his show. It aggravated you to no end, but you would never want to be another obstacle on the way to his dreams. It was easier to let it go and enjoy the time you did have with him.

You had the bad habit of jumping to the worst scenario.You didn’t live in the safest sector of the city, it was entirely possible he had been attacked along the way. Your mind shifts to the uprising of missing person’s cases New Orleans had been plagued with. The media speculated a killer of some kind, but the police department denied those theories. They hadn’t found any of the bodies, and refused to believe they were going to.

If he wasn’t here within the next hour, you were going to search for him yourself.

"Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song"

An abrupt knock steals you from your worries, you rush to its source without a second thought. You open the door to the dark curly haired man you had been waiting for. To your surprise, his usually tidy hair was unkempt and rumpled around his newly bruised face. His disheveled blood stained clothing reflected the crimson pouring from his nose. You froze like a deer in headlights, it was one hell of a way to show up for a date.

"Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song"

“Oh my god” you whispered under your breath. Your hands appear at the sides of his face tracing each little scratch and the deep bruise forming around his eye. “Love..what happened? Are you okay?” You stuttered out.

He sent you a sheepish smile, not wanting to raise any concerns.“May I come in” he asked placing his hand on top of your own.

His “previous activities” were rather impromptu. Usually, his targets were much better thought out, and handled much more methodically. Although he enjoyed the anguished screams of his victims, he would never hurt anyone who wasn’t actively or indirectly hurting you, the same applied to this kill. The timing wasn’t ideal but it was a necessity.

He had decided to walk to the flower shop from the station so he could surprise you with a fresh bouquet before your date. He felt tremendously guilty for his recent absences, and wanted to alleviate that with a gift. Even if he missed you dreadfully, New Orleans birthed the scum of the earth. It was more important to keep you protected than to keep long expanses of your company. He would never forgive himself if something he could have prevented happened to you.

Upon his arrival into the shop, he was rather annoyed with the short brutish man that held up the line. He shamelessly flirted with the owner of the shop, who very clearly did not care for his advances. Alastor wouldn’t stand for such behavior. It was better to deal with the issue then instead of allowing you to continue to exist in a world full of degenerates. He would do anything to keep you safe.

Once the man had finally left, he followed him until they reached a quiet alley. He pulled the knife from his coat pocket, ready to strike. He stabbed the man’s back and twisted the knife in as far as it would go. However, the man was a bit stronger than he anticipated. It was the first time anyone had bothered to fight back.

His most recent kill had gotten sloppy, and here he was covered in blood on your doorstep in consequence. He never wanted any of the evidence to be tied to you, so he had learned to keep his distance. On this particular occasion however, he didn’t have much of a choice. He had dismembered the body and left it tucked in an alleyway, to be disposed of later. The only evidence remaining was the blood staining his clothes. If someone saw him walking through town in his disorderly state, that would raise questions; questions that could indirectly put you into harms way. Although this wasn’t ideal, it was the only option. -Besides, he had accidentally missed your date, you were probably worried sick over him.

“Yes of course I’m sorry, please follow me” You stammer out grasping his hand and leading him to the bathroom. You weren’t entirely sure of the nature of his bedraggled state, but you were determined to fix it. You reach under the sink and dig out the first aid kit you kept on hand.

You reach for the bandages and a dampen a small cloth. You press it against his bloodied nose and place a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Are you alright” You ask hesitantly. Your mind burned with questions, what had happened to bring him here in such a state?

“It’s nothing I can’t manage I’m sorry to drag you into this.” He replied, remorse seeping into his tone.

“No it’s alright I’m just glad you’re okay.” You responded as you began to bandage the scuffs on his hands. From his demeanor, you gathered he didn’t really want to talk about this, but you couldn’t help but ask.

“What happened Al?” You questioned. Your shoulders were slumped in his direction while you carefully washed the cuts on his face.

“It’s not important my dear.” He responded with a nonchalant smile.

"Telling my whole life with his words

Killing me softly with his song"

His indifferent attitude did anything but calm you.

“You can’t show up on my doorstep like this, and not expect me to be concerned for you. Please, just tell me what happened love” You begged.

“I had something to take care of. It’s not important” He dismissed you again as you unbuttoned the clasps of his shirt to tend to anything below the surface. Through his bloodied exterior, you couldn’t discern what stemmed from him or another person.

“Clearly-" you huffed. You examined the small contusions that littered his chest. “Please don’t run from me Al” Even though his injuries are less severe than you’d thought your lips contorted into a deep frown. “I’m worried about you.” Your e/c eyes bore into his smooth brown ones.

“I just.. got involved with the wrong person y/n, please save your worries for a worthy cause.” He murmured. He attempted to dissuade your worries with another smile, it only multiplied them.

“We should report this to the police Alastor I don’t care who you got involved with they don’t have a right to leave you like this” You urge, your fingers mindlessly trace the edges of each forming bruise.

“Y/n just drop it.” He finally snapped, his voice is intense and almost feral. His shoulders tense up almost as quickly as they release.

“Please”. He softens, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.

"He sang as if he knew me

In all my dark despair"

1930: New Orleans: Your apartment, six months later

Another pressing knock awakens you from your sleep. You didn’t even have it in you to be upset anymore. It had become habitual, he would show up on your doorstep a little before four in the morning speckled in bright red blood; just as he had done every few weeks for the last six months. It wasn’t worth asking for explanation anymore. He would ramble out the same tepid excuses and unconcerned reassurances.

You opened the door to his typical scarlet splatted clothing. The longer his little escapade expanded, the less injuries he sustained afterwards. It was a double edged sword. You were glad he never walked in branded in bruises or dripping his own blood, but it also made you apprehensive. How was he able to hurt another so easily with no more damage than the occasional scrape on his knuckles? Nothing about the entire affair made sense. You recall the vague details he had mentioned after the first incident. If he truly had been accidentally whisked into the company of the wrong individuals, why didn’t he just leave? He worked in radio, theoretically he could accomplish the same goal in a different location. There wasn’t anything to stop him. You had assured him you would drop everything and go with him if he only asked you to. New Orleans had no reason to hold onto you in his absence. You were a matching set.

With a small kiss between your drowsy eyes, he walked into your bedroom to shed his dirtied clothes. Upon his return, he flitted about your kitchen collecting the necessary materials to make you both a cup of tea. It was routine at this point. Accompanied by the smooth lull of the radio, you would drink your tea and chat. He was never at a loss for words, and you loved to listen. You didn’t really talk about anything meaningful, just whatever happened to cross his mind. You sit curled into his arms tea in hand. You couldn’t help but wonder why this was all happening. You wanted him to open up to you. It didn’t matter what the circumstances were. Maybe if he told you, you could find a way to help him out of this

“Al..why don’t we just leave here? I don’t like that you keep showing up like this. I promise I won’t be upset with whatever details it holds…I just want to know that you’re being safe.” You nestle your head into the crook of his neck, as you speak.

“My dear, we have been over this, it is nothing I can’t handle. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it” He smiles down at you and presses another kiss against your forehead. He admired your care, but he feared your judgement too harshly to admit the true details of his actions.

"And then he looked right through me

As if I wasn't there"

“This is the second time this week Alastor. I’ll support you through anything but I deserve to know the details”. You plead, lifting your head to better observe his features. He looked completely and entirely unbothered.

"And he just kept on singing

Singing clear and strong"

"y/n I'm telling you to drop it" His hand cups your cheek.

"No you don't get to tell me that anymore. I'm concerned for you Alastor.” Your voice gets louder as you pull away from his touch.

"I've told you before darling, you needn't worry" He tucks a stray loc of your hair behind your ear. "I promise I would never hide anything from you for longer than I needed to dear.I will always be truthful with you y/n” He pulls your body back into his lap as he speaks.

“ I just can’t tell you yet… It wouldn’t be right to involve you in this.” His voice is indistinct and distant, as his arms wrap around you into a tight hug.

“ I can’t risk you getting hurt, You are my perfection dear”

Your heart falls from your recollection as your body finally drops to the from the spinning pole. Alastor didn't end up keeping his promise of eventually veracity. How many other things did he simply “not tell you yet”.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words"

You were convenient and gullible, you had loved him too much to even consider that he might have been hurting others and not a victim himself . You lived in the middle of the city, giving him a central location to act from. He hadn’t lied when he said you were perfect.

"Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song"

It was much deeper than you previously thought. You weren’t just someone he kept around for the occasional favor or entertainment. It was deeper than that. The bloodied clothes and unexplained absences finally made sense. He would’ve needed to harm a lot of people to hold such an astute amount of power upon his arrival in hell. You were the unknown tool that helped him reach that status.

"Telling my whole life with his words"

No wonder you ended up in hell. Any sinful actions you may have taken or blood on your hands was nothing in comparison to the amount he spilled with your help. You were nothing more than an accessory to his crimes. You had wasted your life on counterfeit kisses and meaningless utterances of love. You had wasted your afterlife believing they held some merit.

"Killing me softly with his song"

He didn’t come for you because he didn’t need anything from you. He never actually loved you enough to search for you beyond that.

The music crescendos into its final note. You take a slight bow as the crowd exploded into a sea of cheers.

“Thank you for being such a darling audience, I’ll be out to speak with you soon” you announce as you blow a kiss in their direction. Val would have to be mad later. You needed to get out of there

As soon you walked off stage, the lively armor of your theatrical persona was thrown aside, leaving nothing to guard your wounded heart. You stumble down the hall towards your dressing room ,a freshly opened bottle of wine in tow. You wanted nothing more than a moment of clear unfeeling peace. Valentino preferred you to mingle after a performance, but you needed to collect yourself and dampen your anger before you had to speak with your untamable fans. Alastor’s appearance had shaken you to your core in ways you weren’t prepared to confront. You didn’t have time to accurately process those emotions so you would settle for a second alone to compartmentalize. By the time you reach the dressing room’s door, the bottle in your hand is nearly empty. You turn the knob to reveal to a vase of crimson roses reflected in your mirror and the shadow of his antlers on your face.

“Why are you here.” You asked pointedly. Your voice held the typical icey air of a frigid hellish morning. You had no intention of letting him stay long enough to propose whatever twisted favor had brought him back to your door.

“It was you that contacted me dearest” He ignored the frostbite forming on his finger tips from your cold shoulder- His frankly untrue statement struck more than a few of your nerves.

“If I had, don’t you think I would have done it sooner?” You seethed with aggravation. Alastor hadn’t a clue as to why you were so cross with him. Perhaps guilt motivated your responses and he was simply caught in the overtly anguished crossfire. You had always been slightly oversensitive to your effect on him- maybe that was it?

“Now my dear you haven’t been in hell very long, you mustn’t blame yourself for needing a bit of extra time to understand your skillset. I was pleasantly surprised to hear your sweet voice interrupt my usual broadcast- Although, I must say I wasn’t aware you were so interested in continuing show business after death. Had you asked before finding your own way, I could have connected you with a classier establishment"

“A bit of extra time is the understatement of the hour” you huff under your breath.

“Most demons take weeks to learn control, you on the other hand managed to do so in a couple of days you really should be proud” He sent you a reassuring smile.

You laugh dryly, confusion overtakes his features and seeps into his smile.

“Oh sure you’re absolutely right! I should be proud it only took a day or so- give or take a few years” The sarcasm radiating from your response would have slit the throat of a lesser demon. This confused Alastor even further.

“y/n, how long have you been in hell.”Bewilderment etches across his lips, he had never considered the possibility you weren’t another new arrival before then.

“Ten years, eleven next week.” you admit. His eyes grow wide in remorse.

“Dear I am so very sorry I didn’t find you sooner. Between your anonymity and my little leave of absence, we must have just missed each other. I assure you had I known you were here I would have been chasing at your heels.” Despite his deeply genuine intentions, you perceived his words as nothing more than another manipulative tactic to persuade you into whatever twisted plan he had in store.

“Please- Al, you can cut the act already. To be entirely frank, I don’t need any more of your sweetly worded lies, I know who you’ve always really been now. I’m telling you it’s not going to work anymore- I’m not that stupid.” Your retort was accompanied by the roll of his eyes.

“You left me without a care in the world, and with a child for that matter. It stands to reason your sentiment wouldn’t change, even in hell. I don’t care for whatever old favor you’re trying to call in. I’m not helping you.” Even across the room, the edges of his raven tipped hair practically singed at the weight of your words. For the first time in his hellish existence, his everlasting smile dropped. He didn’t know he was a father. He had died before you had chance to tell him.

“ We had a child?” His voice is weak and raw, entirely devoid of its usual crackle. His eyes hold a deep sadness you had only ever seen in your own reflection. Your posture visibly softens at his sorrowful reaction. The realization hit you: He never got to meet his son. At least you were granted a moment with your baby swaddled in your arms. Alastor hadn't been so lucky.

“ Yes.. his name is Eugene. He turned 50 last year...He was such a beautiful baby. He had your brown eyes and curly hair. I swear I could almost hear you in his laughter.” The corners of your mouth begin to peak up in response to the remembrance. Despite the short time he had been a part of your life, Eugene was everything you lived for. You endured every sleazy comment and blood splattered old fashioned in the hopes you could see him again. You even went as far to marry the bar’s immoral owner. You suffered a lifetime of abuse and the plight of that man's own children on the half hearted promise you might have been able to regain custody in your newfound stability.

“Did he live a good life?” He was overtaken with dream-like sun spotted snapshots of you and his son. The hypothetical moments alleviated his guilt slightly. At least in his absence you weren’t entirely alone. Alastor's legs carried him to your side. He wanted nothing more than to wipe the melancholy from your face and offer you comfort. His hand gently outstretched to your shoulder. The silence that overtook the room was hinted in comfort instead of animosity.

“ Yes..he did" you finally respond.

Your mind wanders to the flower shop he owned downtown and its painted green exterior. The lavender cursive of the sign above it read "Eugene's Fanciful Flowers". He was a complete and total dork, just like his father. The older you got, the more you found yourself walking past it. He had sent you a bouquet of daffodils once. You kept them in the vase next to your bed long after they had begun to wilt and shrivel. You weren't sure how he knew of your existence or even where you lived. He was only 18 months old the last time you had held him in your arms. You weren't really his mother, just a circumstance of his birth. You never had the chance to watch him grow.

"I just never got to see it” You snap out of your memory inspired daze.

He never got to meet his son because he chose not to. Any remorse you felt was quickly scrapped from your system. You could have watched your son’s mind grow and learned the nuances of his little voice if Alastor had just stayed. That’s all he had to do. You didn’t care if your eventual marriage with him would have crumbled in the process. For all you cared, he could continue his distant nature and whatever wicked deeds he pleased, just as long as he stayed…He made his choice to walk that crestfallen path alone, separating you from him and your son in the process. You shrugged off his soothing hand and turned away, effectively burning a fire flecked wall between the two of you.

“I had to give him up. The radio show shut down in your absence. I couldn’t support the both of us with what little I made at the bar.” Bitterness seeps into your previously softened voice. You weren’t going to allow yourself to be manipulated by his falsified concern. The mirage of imagined moments you had collected of your son over the years flashed through your mind all at once. You were devastated by the memories you didn’t get the chance to make.

“Y/n.. I am so sorry.” He is nearly frozen in place, shocked by the sudden shift in your demeanor. If you weren’t so angry, the pathetic broken string of words would have shattered your desolate heart.

“ You can stop pretend to care Alastor. You had no issue leaving us then- What do you really want from me? Just get it over with so I can go back to forgetting you exist.” The short horns peaking out from your hair nearly doubled in size. You were growing frustrated with his half assed excuses and blatant lies. In that moment, you didn’t care if he disappeared entirely. The deserted lovesick island you had so often found yourself stuck on burned to the ground in the back of your mind.

“Why would I, an overlord, want something from a weaker demon such as yourself. I don’t know who placed that foolish notion into your head, but I assure you, I don’t want anything from you” Anguish accented the pungent inflection of each word. Alastor was growing tired with your antics he didn’t want anything from you other than your forgiveness. He had apologized for the first time in decades, and meant it. Why couldn’t you just accept that? Your resentful resolve exasperated him to no end.

“ I just wanted to see you again, I thought you might like the same, evidently I was wrong.” His typical smile pressed into an uncharacteristic sharp line.

“Will you please just stop?” Your voice raised far more than a few decibels. He couldn’t take the hint, and you were not sober enough to keep reiterating it.

“Darling it has been agony sitting around waiting for you here, only to find out you’re cavorting around with Valentino. Leaving you wasn’t my fault, you can’t blame me for something I didn’t wish to do. As much as I wish to I can’t control my circumstances. I’ve already apologized I don’t know what else you want me to do." He would gladly do anything you asked to mend the bridges you had set ablaze in your unreasonable fury. He hadn’t meant to die, it just sort of happened. Were you really blame him for his untimely demise?

“Didn’t wish to do? How stupid do you think I am?” You scoffed.

“The only thing I want you to do is leave.” Your voice wavered but the sentiment was strong. He could almost see the fighting spirit that traced your form. Alastor couldn’t help but laugh. He had done nothing but answer your call, and you had the audacity to reject his answer. If you wanted to fight, he would fight with you. If nothing else, it kept you talking to him.

“Naturally, because you are just so much happier leashed to Valentino and spinning around that pole” He taunted, his scornful sneer seeping into his cadence.

"Believe me I'd rather be anywhere else-" You snapped. He had added fuel to the fire and the weight of its introduction flooded you with spite.

“Don’t pretend that you’re any different from him Alastor. You are two sides of the same coin- except unlike you, Valentino actually owns my soul. I have to put up with this shit from him. I’m under no obligation to take it from you. I am not a toy for you to pick up and put down whenever you need something to play with- I’m not some tool for you to use whenever decide you need a favor.”

You didn’t really believe the words coming from you, you just wanted to hurt him the way he hurt you. Evidently it worked a little better than you anticipated. His eyes contorted into the shape of radio dials, the static erupting from his core in tandem. His height over you nearly tripled, as the horns on his head wept out jet black roots that stretched into the ceiling. His voice distorts into a vicious growl.

“You don’t get to stand here and pretend that I am entirely to blame. It isn’t my fault your life went so poorly. Let’s think reasonably for a moment, provided you haven’t completely lost it. You could have made any number of different choices, but you went with the easiest option, just as you always have. As for your current situation, you did the same. Although I regret not finding you sooner, you clearly had the ability to reach out if you truly needed something. You don’t get to blame me because you finally started to regret your careless mistakes. You have no right to be angry with me for your own choices. Look at how pathetic you’ve become y/n.” He grasps your chin, tilting it to meet your eyes in the mirror.

“I don’t know how I ever managed to love someone stupid enough to waste their soul on nothing more cheap liquor and lust rolled cigarettes.”

The radio static that had permeated the room just seconds before fizzled out leaving you alone in the silent pit. His antlers returned to their normal size as he observed the void that replaced your sparkling eyes. As soon as he saw the tears welling up within you, he realized what he had said.

In actuality, he didn’t mean a word of it. In his time in hell, he had grown too accustomed to uncovering the insecurity of his opponents. In that moment, he had forgotten you really weren’t one.

He didn’t truly blame you for anything that had happened. How could he? He knew he was mostly at fault for the more unfortunate aspects of your life. His heart incessantly throbbed with guilt just thinking of what you must have gone through. He hadn’t known what he left you with in such an unforgiving world. If he had, he would have found some way to pluck the bullet from his skull and return home to you.

As for the quality of your after-life, he knew the blame belonged entirely to Valentino. You had always been strong, but you had never been cruel. To survive in this hellish landscape, you had to be on some level. You probably would have ended up just another lifeless body bloodying up the street if you hadn’t taken the offer. Valentino had taken advantage of that, and Alastor hadn't been there to help you find another solution. Even if you didn’t want his help, he would never forgive himself if he didn’t find a way to break the deal you had made.

“Get out.” You didn’t have enough strength for anything more than a whisper.

His eyes bore into yours as a single tear slipped down your face. He hadn’t noticed the deep scratches that decorated your cheeks or the dark purple bruises that formed under your contour until that moment. They had been hastily covered in concealer and he hadn’t been close enough to notice the jagged indentations until then. The ears perched atop his head began to twitch as his mind sparked with an entirely different form of rage...As soon as he figured out what twisted soul had dared to lay a hand on you, all of hell would hear their screams.

His grasp on your chin softens as he traced the edge of each scratch with his free hand.

“Who did this to you”

“Get out.” You tear your face from his hold.

“No I’m not leaving you here” he stated, the desperation of his tone rimmed the edges his lanky frame. He took a step towards you and you took a step away.

“Get the fuck out Alastor. Now.” Your eyes began to glow a familiar pink.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean t-“

“Just go” you cut him off before he has the chance to put a word in edgewise. You had been through enough. You didn’t need his excuses to confuse you more. Your eyes squeeze shut as the objects in the room began to float. All you wanted was for him to go away.

“I won’t leave you again” He stood his ground.

“Leave me alone” You were practically screaming at this point. If he couldn’t listen to your request, you would just have to be louder to make him listen. Your voice reverberates throughout the room, effectively shattering both the light bulbs surrounding your mirror and the mirror itself. The residual glass scattered through the space and into your hair.

To your surprise, he doesn't respond. The remaining floating objects fall to the ground in a piercing clatter. Your eyes shoot open at the sudden noise.

Other than the abundant mess, there was no trace he had ever been there to begin with. Even the roses he had brought for you had dissipated. You stood alone in the glass covered room, thankful he had taken his leave. The swirling overload of emotion made you feel ill. You replayed the conversation a few times in your head, each replay inspired a deeper feeling of regret and a plethora of questions you no longer had the opportunity to ask.

A/N:

Hey yall thank you sm for the support I adore each and every one of you!!

Also a note about the content revolving around abusive relationships: This is going to be a bit long winded but I feel it's important to be said. The content in this chapter as well as chapter 2 features some pretty awful depictions of abuse. I want to check in and make sure that this isn't coming off as an overly done cliche or a cheap plot device to further the story. In no way is that my intention. I know that I am a very small writing page but it's important to me that I dont accidentally wind down the same path a lot of larger entertainment companies follow. I've drawn from the experiences of my friends who have gone through similar things as well as my own to try and prevent that. However I am also aware my writing style is a bit..dramatic? If you find that it is coming across negatively, and if you feel comfortable, don't hesitate to message me normally or anonymously. I will gladly listen to anything you have to say!!

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #valentino being a nasty fucker #Alastor really just can't communicate well and you are lowkey stupid #like ok ms girl jump to conclusions #tbh if i was her id give him a lap dance and forget everything #why am i like this #valentino #...can die #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #you best believe the shitty song fic titles are coming back next chapter #omg theyre back!#i was high off my ass writingn this so no guarantee its good.

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xiaoriae · 10 months

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"...AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES!"

— PAIRINGS ; childe, diluc, xiao & zhongli x gn!reader (separate)

— NOTES ; a repost from my old blog!

CHILDE was a friendly roommate, that was the first and significant trait you’d noticed since day one he walked into the small shared apartment.

he wasn’t scared to communicate directly with you, exchanging introductions felt less awkward and more livelier with his playful tone and that signature smile of his.

you didn’t think childe was richer than ordinary people like you to be honest. he probably was a broke student, just like you. after all, he did split the rent with you and so you assumed that he underwent the same financial problems people around your age did.

but when he spoiled you on your first birthday you celebrated together with him, only the two of you in the small, cozy, living room, you almost choked out the soda in your hand when you saw the necklace you drooled over the other day you went shopping, or rather, window shopping with him along the city, was in front of you.

“how much is this?!” your eyes bulging out, partially because of the shock and because you knew how expensive it was.

of course you were staring at it for too long on that fateful evening both of you strolling around the city. the necklace caught your attention the moment you saw it was shining under the sun and was displayed right there in front of you, behind the big glass.

the only thing that was holding you back from barging into the jewelry shop was because of that insane price tag.

childe instead shrugged your question off with his laugh, he cautiously took out the necklace from its purple box. “i caught you staring at it, and your eyes shone so bright, they didn’t lie when i asked you if you wanted this necklace or not, unlike your words,” he recalled the moment you quickly shoved him aside from peeking at what you were looking at and pretended that you didn’t want the item.

“as i said before, it wasn’t necessary—

childe’s hands suddenly appeared in front of you, since when did he make his way to stand behind you? you didn’t notice that.

"what—

the cool feeling in contact with your bare skin made you speechless. childe could be a gentleman when he wanted to, it was a rare occasion, of course, but if he did this to you, you might or might not have a teeny little crush on him and that was definitely a bad sign.

the moment he secured the piece of jewelry around your neck from the back, childe quickly spun you around to face him standing as you cooled down your racing heart, and the beats picking up again when you felt him patting your head.

"happy birthday to you, my first, precious and lovely roommate. now you would at least bring a piece of me with you.”

DILUC was a man who would rather keep all things to himself than talking the out with you.

that was how things had always been from the first three months both of you had started living under the same roof.

he was introverted, and you were perfectly fine with it.

he was minding his own business, and you did the same too. nothing clashed, no fights, and although you somehow met with a dead end trying to bonding more with your roommate, it always ended up with the thoughts that he might be uncomfortable if you indulged yourself to have a proper conversation with him.

he always came back home late way passed the twelve o'clock and you always wondered, what did he do for a living?

yes, you were so delusional that sometimes you thought he was doing illegal things at nights. he sometimes did intimidate you by his looks so you wouldn’t stray off that far, right?

well, the answer to your question was finally answered when your friends brought you to crash at a local, famous tavern, and oh, you were shocked, super shocked to see diluc, the mysterious roommate stood behind the counter.

“diluc, why aren’t you looking at me?”

he swore you gave him a headache. just why did you end up drunk and he knew that he would be the one taking you home.

“diluc,” you whined, for some reasons, you were super clingy, acting like a lost puppy and followed him everywhere when he tried to close the tavern.

there was no breathing customers in sight, it was late at night and even your friends left you for him to handle your drunken state.

if he could leave you alone here, he would probably do it, but to say that you peaked his interest that night was an understatement.

you ended up landing your face onto the counter, waiting eagerly for diluc to wipe off the counter and you said what weighing inside your heart the most. “diluc, let’s be friends.”

his actions ultimately stopped when he saw you looking at him with a pair of eyes that almost made his heart skipped a beat. you looked so innocent, he never thought that you were capable of doing that, or was it because you had some possible effects on him?

“hm?”

“i said, let’s be friends,” you sighed dramatically, and suddenly bumped your head hard onto the wooden counter. diluc almost slipped out the small glass in his hand hearing the loud thud. “i want to know you more. it has been like, what, 3 months since we knew each other yet i only knew you work here today,” your hands flying all over the place before your roommate placed both of his hands on your tensed shoulders.

“calm down, y/n,” he sighed, but a small smile started to form on his lips. “we have years to come, you will eventually know me, right?”

you started to freak out with his words, slapping his face away from you and a scoff was heard by the man in front of you. “you’re weird,” you commented.

diluc acted like nothing happened, he had came across a lot of situations with drunken people and he knew you weren’t going to stop until he said what you wanted. “yes, friends.”

“pinky promise?” a wide grin plastered all across your face as soon as you heard diluc words, and diluc almost, almost went red with how his heart tugging at how adorable you were right now. well, you did have an effect on him after all.

and so, your fingers intertwined, a childish promise was made before diluc pulled his hand away from you.

“now, let’s go back home together. i’ll have to take care of you so do not act foolishly along the way.”

XIAO wasn’t fond, or even acknowledged, that there was literally another person living with him. to say that you at least felt distant from him was an understatement, and maybe, just maybe, you did feel hurt sometimes with how cold he was.

your friends, who often crashed inside your small apartment seemed to notice how quiet he was. it was like he wasn’t there in the first place, ignoring you and your friends as he casually went inside his room, shutting the door and never came out again for the rest of the night.

yes, you did feel worried about him. how he was so alone and didn’t socialise with people made you wonder how on earth did he manage to share this place with you, and still treated you like you were some sort of an invisible entity since then.

no matter how many times you tried to talk with him, coincidentally, or consciously, bumping into him while doing the dishes or the laundry, sitting down next to him while he was alone on the couch only for him to say nothing and got up leaving you slightly disheveled at his actions, he just wouldn’t get the hint of you wanting to know him more.

you were bored, and xiao acting like this wasn’t going to cure your boredom anyway.

and of course, as someone who basically lived for human interactions, you knew you had to be bold enough and break that stupid barrier he had in him, that barrier in which blocking you and his solitude life far away from another.

so, one day, a thing that you knew you would never do onto your roommate caught up inside your mind, weighing onto you for the entire day, contemplating all over again whether you should or shouldn’t, because this might turn horribly wrong and you feared that the thin line of relationship you two might have would turn out to be more awkward than it already was.

“what are you up to, hm?” xiao jolted at the sudden voice behind him. he almost burnt the pancake he usually did for breakfast. sometimes he did for you too, knowing that you woke up later than him who was a night owl and an early bird all at once.

he stayed silent, but you knew he was cooking breakfast for you too. seeing the amount of multiplied ingredients in front of you made your heart all fuzzy and warmed. at least, he did care for you, even the slightest.

xiao was taken aback when you suddenly hopped onto the counter beside him. somewhere in the back of his mind, he was questioning why you were acting so happy and bubbly. you were always like this, but seeing you being this cheerful and positive made him looked at you with a calculating gaze.

“what?” your legs swinging back and forth. “stop giving me the judging look, xiao,” you scoffed. sure, xiao was a handsome man, and maybe you just couldn’t stand his good-looking face staring at you for too long.

“why are you here?” his question was straightforward, yet his tone was stern and he continued to act cold. if you could describe him, xiao would give the most 'tsundere' vibe you’d ever found in a man.

“oh, you know, just watching you doing stuff,” answering without any hesitation, you instead asked him. “do you need help in anything? you do this for me too.”

to say that xiao was flabbergasted with you pinpointing his deed was more than enough for you to understand his situation, and xiao faked a cough, proceeding to ignore you at his side and flipping the pancakes.

when he finally done, you jumped off the counter and quickly grabbed the plates nearby, serving them for you, and for him too.

“what is this for, y/n?” oh, so xiao knew your name after all, you nearly thought he’d forgotten about it. you didn’t blame him though, you were just another unimportant person in his life. “let’s eat breakfast together,” you gave him a cheeky grin, and xiao still stood firm although you had placed the pancakes onto the small dining table, yours and his were opposite of each other and you smiled at the thought of your plan since last night doing well so far.

“it’s fine,” xiao hurriedly took his plate, and you truly knew where he was heading, it was either his room, or the living room. so you did what your instinct told you, gently slapping his hand away from the plate and although you’d already sat and he was still shocked with your hand wrapping his arm, xiao quickly looked away, closed his eyes and gave you a big sigh.

“come here,” you pulled him to sit in his place, and to your suprise, he didn’t fight you back.

“where is this going?” he asked, and you felt like smacking his head for being too oblivious with your situation of wanting him to feel like he was your roommate and not just another stranger lounging across the apartment.

you pulled up your spoon. “do you want me to lecture you on how to be close with another person?” flicking his forehead with your spoon instead only for xiao to still stay emotionless and frowned slightly at the pressure on his face. “just eat, big boy. i swear if you’re acting like a lost child once again, i might go feral.”

“why do i have to listen to you?” he still didn’t want to back down, and still questioning all your actions so you quickly got up from your seat, your hands found his face and xiao’s eyes widening at your warm touch on his face, you were bold, he gave that.

“xiao,” you called his name gently, and he felt how his heart dropped at your sad eyes. “can we be more than just strangers?” you murmured. the way xiao looking up at you intently made your heart almost cried at the sight. he was a good roommate although there was a lack of interactions between the two of you, xiao still cooked your breakfast occasionally.

but you weren’t going to ignore the fact that there was something felt lacking between you and him.

and now, when you felt xiao’s hands taking your hands away from his face, you almost exploded in emotions. was this the direction of your relationship and him left you alone again? why did you feel so emotional, did xiao really had an impact on your life?

maybe he did, he was the one taking care of you in the shadow after all, although he was silent about it.

were you really that desperate for his attention?

and all was shut up when you felt xiao stood up, holding you near him, wrapping his arms around your waist and although the hug was awkward and he was stiff, it was enough to soothe you.

“i’m sorry,” his voice turned softer, silently blaming himself for doing this to you, and you were taken aback with the smell of his cologne, the small space between you and him and the gentle tone he was using.

“i’m sorry, i’ll try improving myself and be a good roommate to you, y/n.”

the first thing to note about ZHONGLI was how cautious and gentle his actions were towards you.

everything he did was so admirable and you couldn’t help to adore this mature side of him, minus when he started to go all in with an insignificant topic like who invented the coffee table or when wine was first made in the industry.

he could be an old man if he went on rambling about all these knowledgeable stuff until your brain went black, malfunctioning, and couldn’t process the information you actually wouldn’t need and use in your daily life that you just had to stop him from continuing his speech.

not to mention, he was quiet popular between the neighbours. even your friends would sometimes wanted to meet him only to drool over him and his look, and sometimes you would cut them off and said no.

the only downside of him was how he seemed to borrow your money all the time. his look could pass off as the rich if you didn’t live with him, but well, guess that was his financial problem.

even how he seemed to ace in economics and unconsciously showing his things—branded things by the way—he yet still borrowed your money just because his memory wasn’t good enough to bring his wallet with him.

he could memorise everything perfectly fine but a precious item, namely his wallet, wasn’t his priority and you were scared to see him broke one day.

thank god zhongli was such an intelligent human. too wise for people around his age and this, of course, you took an advantage of asking him to teach you when you had exams around the corner.

and you were so grateful to have him as your free tutor. he might do bad at his job but hey, at least your grades were improving.

“why did this nation called wind as anemo in the ancient times? it’s so complicated,” you frowned at the long text engraved in the thick book. it just happened that history was the last paper and you just couldn’t comprehend why the term existed when they could’ve just call it as wind.

“it’s in greek,” zhongli seemingly super patient with you and your whiny attitude, he decided to just let you be. “and dendro is also in greek,” he added. “only these two are in greek, there is no need to be theatrical about this.”

“yeah, i know, but with how many papers i’ve gone through this week, my brain has insufficient space of storage for now and this makes me feel worse. i am doomed,” you turned towards him dramatically, maybe you were being exaggerated like he said but the nervousness about failing history was unbearable at this point, for you and your mental health.

“nonsense,” he cut your acting and you quickly glared at him. “the human brain is capable of storing memories up to 2.5 million gigabytes, and there’s never too much for your brain,” he leaned back onto the cushion chair beside yours, bringing his hands to his chest and looked at you as if he was quite disappointed with your little to no efforts.

“one synapse of the brain could—

"okay, mr. zhongli, i’m sorry,” you cut his words before your supposedly history lesson with him turned out into some sort of a neurology class and you definitely didn’t want that.

“let’s be real here,” you spun your chair to see his face directly in front of you, ankles immediately meeting with his and you almost flinched at the contact. zhongli was unfazed so you decided to casually push your chair back a little without making it look awkward due to his intimidating aura when he was serious, and to make more distance between the two of you.

“so, the famous history of teyvat civilization,” you brought your fingers. “there are seven thriving nations,” you continued before seeing that zhongli was staring at you intently. it was too much for your heart to handle. he looked so cool and you were scared of looking stupid.

“ugh,” you groaned, bringing your chair back to the table. “just why do i have to memorise all these facts about this inexistent world in the first place?”

“you have to,” he answered unknowingly. “now, do you want to revise or..?” the calming voice beside you made you felt like an idiot compared to a smart man like him.

“alright,” you sighed, zhongli did have a point. this was for your final semester grade, and you knew you would instantly regret it if your grade ended up low.

“enlighten me then,” he did what he always did when you asked him to tutor you or to supervise you studying.

you took a deep breath. “there were once seven gods people in teyvat worshipped,” you peered your eyes at zhongli and he nodded calmly at your words. “the god of anemo, geo, electro, dendro, hydro, pyro and cryo. all these gods also have their own titles which are freedom, contract, eternal, wisdom, justice, war and love respectively,” you trailed off. even only in a single sentence, your brain jammed trying to process them.

“i couldn’t do this, we aren’t even at the part of each of the nations yet,” you gave up, closing the book before getting up from your seat and ultimately backing away from your study. “time to go out and get some fresh air!” you ignored zhongli’s gaze at you, and when you were about to pass zhongli and get out of your room, zhongli pulled you back from his seat, only for you to land on top of him and a silent gasp came out from your mouth.

what the hell was he even thinking about?

“you are not going anywhere,” his deep voice made your insides tingling. your heart skyrocketed and with how fast he pulled you into him, he placed you back in front of your study like he didn’t do that with you in the first place. your face felt hot, red and you somehow felt nauseous all at once.

where the heck did he learn to do that from?

did he know your poor heart couldn’t take that?

“cat got your tongue?” zhongli’s chuckle resonated through the thick atmosphere within your suffocating room.

“what’s that for?” in that short span of time, you decided to chin up and not showing him how affected you were by his actions. your insides was screaming yet you gave him a look to hide the embarrassment you felt.

“i know you would not even bother to read after this, that was definitely an uninspiring argument you had,” he pulled his chair to become much more closer than you intended him to.

there was no way you were going to focus with him acting like this all of sudden.

“y-yeah, i’ll continue,” you stuttered, and zhongli found it was an adorable sight to see.

“that's my sweetheart.”

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