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daddyricsdoll · 2 months

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Vanilla? ✭ Oscar Piastri

Summary: It's always the quiet ones that are the freakiest. But that wasn't what every other driver on the grid thought as they teased Oscar and you for being too innocent to know anything beyond vanilla sex. So when you guys didn't put up a fight, they figured they were right... until someone was lucky enough to see you and Oscar on the other end of the spectrum of "plain sex".

Warnings: not vanilla sex! fingering, oral (male receiving), bondage (hands tied together), spreader bar (if that even what it’s called), unprotected sex, rough because how else would you have it? Gagging and deep-throating Oscar’s huge dick 😩

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Oscar is the man who makes me wanna wake up in the morning and I love it!! I'm so obsessed with him it's making me go insane, but if I'm going insane it's fine because I'm going insane over him. Everything about him is beautiful and I wanna call him pretty and gorgeous and watch as he blushes. Then ride him and take control of him until he wants to teach me lesson and makes me pass out. (I’m just a girl) Based off of this request.

“Oscar, how would you say relationships outside of F1 have helped you grow in this sport as a driver and as a person. If they had an impact, and if not then why?” Oscar’s PR manager testing questions on him, posing as one of the many journalists trying to break Oscar’s wall that he’s been perfect at keeping up so far. He finds it amusing that they have so much interest in his life, only encouraging him to keep his words to a minimum. Well as long as you don’t come up– his cheeks immediately flush and he starts every sentence with “my girlfriend” before he looks at others and silently begs them to say something to shut him up.

“Well, everyone’s been supportive of my career. Which only makes me want to do my best, and better than that.” Keeping a straight face as he answers until he looks at you beside him then Lando with a proud grin on his face.

“Who’s everyone…? Your girlfriend?” Lando’s voice teases, like every schoolgirl talking about their friend's crush.

“I- yeah. She does a lot for me, helps me let off steam before and after races, she also-”

“Let off steam, huh? Is my Oscar making his girlfriend cum to let off steam?” Lando’s mouth wide open, making an ‘o’ shape. Both you and Oscar have mixed emotions– heat coursing through you remembering just this morning, but also shock from Lando’s unhinged question.

“You’d be surprised?” Oscar’s answer broad, but you knew. Letting Lando believe that Oscar lets you cum, when his favourite thing is edging you until tears roll down your face.

“Oscar, you probably just learnt what a clit is.” Lando having nothing better to do than tease him as his pale cheeks turn pink.

“Believe whatever makes you happy.” Oscar shutting down the conversation before he reveals too much, a little smile on his lips as he chuckles and moves his hand further up your thigh.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

It wasn’t just Lando who would have a say about you and Oscar’s sexual life, but any driver who happened to walk into the conversation at the perfect time.

“Oh yeah, Oscar you’re vanilla.” His fellow Australian, Daniel Ricciardo, says. Joining them on their walk to wherever they all had to be next.

“Well actually I think Oscar is a little more than vanilla. He’s vanilla but not vanilla.” Logan pops in too.

“No. Oscar is sooo vanilla. Like he’s too scared to choke his girlfriend because she’ll die and he’s never marked her so she knows she’s his.” Lando expresses his words with so much passion it makes Oscar roll his eyes but know exactly what Lando’s doing when their hotel rooms are beside each other and he’s invited a girl over.

“Wow. Calm down Lando, I think we learnt a little bit more from you than Oscar. You definitely need a girlfriend.” Daniel spoke the words everyone was thinking. Letting Oscar finally breathe and have all the attention over to Lando and his desires.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

“Fuck, I needed you.” Oscar groans out, thrusting himself ever deeper into your mouth. “Talking ‘bout how vanilla we are. But look at us.” The position you were in was unimaginable. You lay on your back, head on the edge of the sofa as Oscar rammed into your mouth with his fingers opening you wide and making you cum. But still, that wasn’t enough, your hands tied together and a spreading bar made sure your legs couldn’t be shut, always ready for Oscar, but with a blindfold over your eyes how would you know? Each of your moans were muffled by his cock and as one of his hands played with your clit the other toyed with your nipple.

Blood rushed to your head from this position and it filled in for the loss of his hand around your neck. Oscar pounded into you, his dick making you gag as you deepthroated him. An explosion of fireworks inside of you as he continued making you cum, a loud scream trying it’s best to flee your puffy lips, but Oscar couldn’t help but enjoy hearing you struggle to make out any coherent sounds because of his cock.

By now it was impossible to remember the amount of times he had made you release. From his mouth, fingers and dick, all you did know was that that number was only going to increase.

Each of his moves were so intense, Oscar had you spellbound. Unable to notice anything other than him. Well that was until he pounded himself as deep as he could into your mouth and then stopped. Everything went silent.

“Oh fuck! Oscar?!” Those words certainly didn’t come out of your mouth, and when you realised who did say that, oh you couldn’t have been more embarrassed, but somehow aroused. Seconds later the door finally shut, and you could only think about the uncensored view Lando had of the both of you.

“Fuck, I’ll deal with him later. But for now…you need to cum.” Pulling out of your swollen mouth and grabbing you off the couch to lay your shamelessly sinful body on the floor. Oscar doesn’t take his time, manhandling your legs so your feet are nearly inline with your head and then making your arms keep them back by going in front of the spreader bar.

Leaving your pussy so exposed and vulnerable that Oscar could do whatever he liked between those drenched folds. It was always a gamble with Oscar, sometimes he’d take his time to tease you, others he wouldn’t even give you time to catch breath. This was just as unpredictable as others, by now you would either be covered in your own tears from his edging or on the verge of passing out because you could feel him in your throat after coming in you repeatedly.

You felt less of an advantage, not even being able to lay eyes on him, so you listened to your own heavy breathing until he touched you again. Fingers going between your folds and spreading them apart with his index and ring finger. Lightly teasing you with his middle one. “Looks like you’ve had enough today huh? Or can you take one more?”

You nod your head as an answer, but it’s never enough as he asks you for words.

“Y-yes. I can take more.” You force out between breaths, in shock of how you even managed to say those words.

“Oh really? Well that’s great.” Oscar holds your pliant body up even further and then makes a swift move of ramming himself deep inside of you. Once again it pulled all of the oxygen from your lungs and the stretch from the position couldn’t be compared to the stretch from his cock. You couldn’t complain as he thrusted in again and hit your g-spot. Bringing more tears to your red eyes.

Grunts and groans slipping past his lips and making his actions such a godly sensation.

Oscar pounds himself into you with no mercy, finding pleasure in your moans and cries. You wish to hold him, dig your fingers into his shoulders and mark his back. Adorn his pale skin in love bites and make his lips swollen. Thinking about the way his body flexes with every thrust and how divine he would look from this position that you’ve been in many times but each new one has a different effect.

“What’d you think Lando’s telling them?” Oscar grips your thighs tighter–fingers certainly making bruises– keeping you in place as he vigorously rams inside of your overstimulated pussy. Never losing pattern or momentum.

“You think he’s telling them about how you took me so well? Your hands tied up? And how fucking good you looked between my legs.” Each of Oscar’s words having such an effect on you it could've been a trick of hypnotism. Your legs shaking and lips parted as you came. Oscar savoured the beautiful sounds leaving your mouth and he worked harder to fuck your high out and bring his in.

You clenched around him, forcing a moan to finally leave his lips and bless your ears. Oscar spasms and releases inside of you. Pushing himself so deep and his cum even deeper. He thrusts a few more times, easing both of you out and spreading his cum inside your walls. Oscar sits in you for a while before pulling out. “Fuck, that was so. Fucking. Good.” He starts untying you and helping you come undone from all of the restraints. Letting you lay flat on the floor as he did all the work.

“I would’ve been in you for hours if he didn’t come in. Can’t imagine what he said to them”

Oscar crawls up your body and plants a kiss on your lips.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

Finally leaving Oscar’s room you both didn’t know what to expect. Well definitely not drivers surrounding a small table as Lando spoke to them all with hand actions and his face even worse.

“Y’know vanilla isn’t even that bad. But wow Piastri, I didn’t think that.” Daniel brings all the attention to you two. Every driver turned their head with a series of reactions on their faces.

“You are freaky Oscar.” Logan couldn’t hold back and somehow Fernando was there to agree with him.

“I have to tell Charles! Now I know what you two do.” Pierre smirks, making you blush and look at the ground.

“Well I guess I was wrong, but Oscar why didn’t you tell me you sneaky boy. Because then I had to see it.”

“It seemed like you wanted to join.”

“No I-”

“The way you’re speaking about Lando, it seemed like you wanted to join.” Daniel once again kind of saving Oscar from these unfortunate topics.

“What? Guys this is about Oscar and how freaky he is with his girlfriend!”

“If you want to join, just ask.” You finally speak, teasing Lando and watching the way his face changes.

“Oh you guys are so not vanilla!”

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edgeobeyond · 9 months

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Feeling like a dream in Jess 🍃☀️

Edge O’ Beyond Jess • Jess is just as unique as she is magical. Retro-inspired in shape, her floral embroidery evokes dream-like wonderland adventures ✨

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 4 months

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Stolas, Millie, Loona, Vaggie, Stella, Husk, Beezlebub and Asmodeus accidentally hitting their S/O During a Fight.

Stolas

It shouldn't have even been an argument.

Looking back he felt awful about the whole thing, it was all so stupid.

Now, despite his extensive and near limitless wealth, at the beginning of your relationship you made it clear you refused to mooch off of him.

Completely that is, he still spoiled you rotten, and you weren't planning on stopping him, But you had a job, maintaining a level of independence, something you took great pride in.

Stolas supported this with gusto, loving your independence as well as adoring the simple assurance you weren't just with him for the money and status.

It all spawned from when he'd asked you to preform a simple chore, something he'd normally do but had a packed schedule, so asked you to do it.

But of course, with your own busy schedule, you'd forgotten, the task going undone the entire day.

Coming home Stolas would snap at you, having endured a particularly stressful day, only for you to snap back.

You'd break into a heated argument, the both of you picking at every petty thing about each other you could.

Snapping at each other for the sort of things you'd never think to bring up before, but in that moment the both of you were just looking for things to get mad about.

But it'd be after Stolas made a remark, a shallow, but derogatory remark on your status as a Hellborne.

And that, well, that gave you something to genuinely be mad about.

You'd snap back at him, bringing up a moment of vitriolic anger, genuinely hurtful information, the sort you'd never have brought up otherwise.

Stolas, completely shocked by such a vicious outbreak, would snap.

Not mentally, but physically.

He didn't even realise what had happened until he looked down, seeing you holding your cheek, staring up at him in horror.

Cold dread filling him, his stomach dropping as he realised what had happened, the man stumbling back, horrified with himself.

"I... I..." He tried to speak but failed, unable to say anything.

You'd turn away, breathing shaky as you struggled to keep yourself composed.

Stolas would reach out to you, hoping to fix the situation. To prove he hadn't meant it.

If you pulled away, the man would break down, apologising profusely, the Owl in an exceptionally fragile state, apologising again and again, having a full breakdown as he begged you for forgiveness.

Your relationship would suffer heavily, but could heal depending on how willing you were, the man profusely apologetic, promising that'd never happen again, terrified he'd be a monster like Stella was to him.

If instead you allowed him to embrace you, he'd pull you close, crying profusely as you held each other, accepting what had happened and your mutual role in it.

You'd end up in his arms, the man holding you to his chest fluff, your favourite spot, the two of you just sat there for hours, holding each other close.

Yous talk softly, both of you apologising, but Stolas practically begging for forgiveness.

He'd feel awful for bringing a physical element to your relationship.

Not that you didn't already get physical, 17 broken bed frames in 9 months proved you got plenty physical, but becoming physically abusive was literally the very last thing he EVER wanted, especially for his partner.

It would take some time, the two of you spending countless hours holding each other close, talking through your issues countless times.

It'd be after stolas would apologise for the hundredth time, you cupping his face and telling him gently you forgave him, that your relationship would really begin to heal.

Stolas would be on edge for a while, going above and beyond for you, ensuring you knew exactly how much he loved you, being extra careful to be as un-intimidating as physically possible.

But your relationship would heal, you loving the owl boi and him loving you, the two of you handling and moving past the bump in your relationship in a surprisingly healthy fashion, the man only loving you even more by the end of it.

Millie

Now, Millie was an interesting contradiction.

On one hand, violence was natural for the girl. Growing up on Wrath It was necessary, becoming second nature for the Imp'et, but despite this she was also exceptionally good at keeping her cool.

She'd only get violent when necessary, and usually in your defence more than anything.

But it'd be some massive fight, the two of you really going at it, that her Wrathern side would kick in.

The girl shoved you.

And this is Millie, so a 'shove' actually meant she pretty much threw you across the room.

Millie covered her mouth as you slumped against the wall, groaning as you got up.

Millie would move to you, rushing to your side, doing her best to care for you, your arm being injured in the crash.

Getting up Millie would attempt to help you, clearly distraught, trying to assure you she was sorry.

If you pulled away from Millie, the farm girl would be totally distraught.

Never had she had to fear her body nor her killer instincts before, in fact, you loved her body, and the way she was usually the most deadly person in the room, hoo boy, you adored it.

That was one of your favourite parts of her.

And not just for the sexual aspect, though there was plenty of that but for her sheet ability.

She was confident and had the physicality to back it up, which in and of itself, was insanely hot.

But, getting hit by her, even it it was unintentional, would drastically change your view of it all.

You'd stumble back, tears building in your eyes as you stared up at her.

Millie, covering her mouth, would feel horrified.

She'd never mean to hurt you. That's literally the last thing she'd ever wanted to do to you, at least not like this.

But sure enough, she'd hit you, her baser instincts kicking in, the girl striking on pure instinct.

She'd move to you, already apologising, trying to assure you.

You'd be emotional, adrenaline pumping hard as you made the choice.

She'd reach out for you, hoping to show she wasn't evil, that she was sorry and meant only the best for you.

If you pulled away, Millie would feel downright awful. She'd probably pull in herself, freaking out internally as she pulled back.

She'd be entirely distraught, the woman becoming horribly self concious, paranoid of her every action, fearful of if she could hurt you again.

She'd try to reach out to you, trying her very best to reach out to you, but unless you were willing to reconcile with her, seeing it from her side, she'd likely have a minor, though well maintained breakdown, the woman freaking out over the whole thing.

Your relationship could recover, but it'd take a lot of communication and understanding, the both of you working through the event and the subsequent issues in a slow, healthy manner.

If you instead leaned into her touch, the two of you would hold each other close.

Millie and you would sit there for a long while, sat there, speaking softly.

You'd go back and forth for a while, both of you apologising. Talking through the issues that led to the argument.

The next few weeks would be tender, you obviously hesitant whenever she got mad, or became physical, the girl noticing how you flinch or watch her warily, fearful of her body.

She hated that. You used to worship her body, and while it wasn't about her ego, she missed be able to be herself around you, it stinging all the more that she only had herself to blame.

As such she would make sure to smother you in positive affection, the girl near constantly hugging or holding you close, never too harshly but enough that you'd get used to her physic, learning to trust being in her arms again.

Her favourite act to simply have you on her lap, holding you close in her muscular, yet feminine form, the girl holding you possessively, gently kissing or whispering in your ear, purring sweet nothing's.

Your relationship would be damaged, absolutely, the whole thing becoming a scar on your relationship, and yet, with some mutual care and respect, you'd not only recover, but your relationship would grow stronger from the affair.

The both of you would acknowledging your part in the argument, promising each other to do better.

It'd take some time to get back to where you were before the incident. To truly trust and love each other like you had before, yet with an abundance of love an dcare for the the other, you'd grow an even stronger, more intimate bond, the two of you coming to truly love and trust each other, your relationship becoming unbreakable.

Loona

Your relationship with Loona would be... odd.

Both in good and bad ways.

You'd have a passionate, if immature relationship, loving each other deeply but struggling to express it properly, the both of you immature and unable to properly work through your emotions in the best ways.

Fights... weren't exactly common, but they weren't rare either, though in fairness, most of your fights were just petty squabbles that worked mostly as an excuse for amazing make up sex.

But well, Loona was a temperamental woman at heart, and well, that temper had a habit of flaring on a whim.

It'd be on a particularly off day, the girl just looking for a fight, but when it became clear you simply couldn't avoid or talk through this random bout of aggression, you'd let her pick the fight.

You'd go back and forth for a while, arguing and yelling at each other, though throughout it, it was clear your heart wasn't in it, you just going through the motions to let Loona let off some steam.

The problem was, Loona's was.

And it'd be after some sarcastic remarks that Loona would snap at you with a genuinely hurtful remark.

You snapping back with a slightly harsher retort, and that's when the actual fight began.

You'd quickly break into a screaming match, the both of you trying to shout down the other.

But after Loona made a snide comment on you, you'd snap back, insulting her just as harshly, if not worst, really twisting the blade as it were.

Loona, shocked you'd make such a comment, would jump at you.

Now, to be clear, you and Loona often got physical, when fighting or otherwise. But this was different then the usual rough housing you'd do.

This wasn't the teasing hands on stuff you'd done countless times before, the wrestling and headlocks she used to do to assert dominance.

No, this was an attack.

She snarled, the two launching across the room, crashing into the wall, you trying to get away only for her to hit you, something halfway between a slap and a punch.

But that was enough to leave you stunned, staring up at her as she raised her fist again.

She sat there, teeth bared, fist clenched, staring down at you as you stared up at her in horror.

Loona, breathing harshly, realised what what she'd just done, staring down at you as tears formed in your eyes.

You looked scared.

Scared of her.

She threw herself off of you, horrified realisation rocking her form, the feeling only growing worse as you moved away from her.

She'd sit there for a minute, processing everything that'd happened, analysing her part, then yours, then her part.

Tears would well in her eyes, the girl slowly getting to her feet.

She'd apologise through tears, hands shaking as she held back ugly sobs, the woman moving to you, pleading and apologising profusely.

She'd get so close she could almost touch you, pleading for you to believe she'd never mean to hurt you.

If you pulled away, Loona would have a full on breakdown, pleading, begging you to believe she never wanted to hurt you.

She'd likely sit there sobbing for a long time before getting up and running to the only person she could think of.

Blitzø.

Now, upon finding his sobbing daughter, he would naturally become enraged, the man wanting to track you down and neuter you.

But Loona would demand he shut up and sit down, the girl explaining what had happened.

Now Blitzø was no expert on relationships, Satan knows had more failed relationships then teeth, and knowing she'd hit you would really put him in the a pickle.

So, he'd pull in the best relationship he knows.

Millie and Moxxie.

Millie would immediately go into mumma bear mode.

She'd be firm, but fair with Loona, the woman acknowledging that she was in the wrong but not entirely one sided, as you had engaged, but ultimately she was at fault.

Striking your partner is never alright.

Mostly.

So, she'd take the initiative, reaching out to you on Loonas behalf.

Now, she wouldn't do all the work, not at all, but she'd open the doorway to reconciliation.

From there, it'd truly be in yours and Loonas hands, the both of having to decided if you could make it work.

But if instead you let her approach you, letting the girl hold onto you.

She'd sob, apologising profusely, apologising for everything, the girl latching onto you.

You sit there for a long time, loona having a good cry. But eventually she'd calm down, the girl apologising profusely for hitting you, for starting the argument. For being such a bitch.

You'd speak for a long, long time, talking over the argument, going over both your parts, acknowledging and apologising for your part in the fight, though loona was far more apologetic, the girl deeply ashamed for her part in it.

You'd set some new rules and boundaries, the two of you knowing you couldn't let something like that happen again, as such you'd both set a list of rules.

The most prominent of which being that when your frustrated or angry with each other, you'd text the other. From there you'd talk a little, likely call the other, then you'd meet, speaking it through.

It was a system you both adhered to religiously, the two of you communicating through text or phone often, discussing any and all issues you had.

Your relationship would be uneasy for a while afterwards, you still on edge, flinching when she was angry. Over all, this whole ordeal got the young hellhound to calm down, learning some much needed restraint, your mutual affection developing in a slow, constructive and healthy manner.

Vaggie

Now, Vaggies temper was actually one of the things you loved about her.

She was firy and passionate and took no shit from nobody, something you loved.

The problem with your relationship was that you loved to tease her, and that got her riled up the quickest.

Now, it was was always in good fun, usually just to get a rise, followed by some soft kisses and apologies.

It was always in good fun.

But, on that fateful day, you made the decision to tease her.

Vaggie, while not the biggest fan, normally didn't mind your teasing, but on that day, having dealt with both Charlie and Alastor, she was in no mood for your teasing.

So, when you prodded and teased, the girl warning you to stop.

You not taking her seriously would prod her again, Vaggie on her last nerve, would slap you, leaving you shocked.

Vaggie, realising what she'd done, would cover her mouth, horrified.

Now it would definitely be stiff for a moment, both of you realising what had happened.

After a moment Vaggie would apologise.

Now you could take this two ways.

You could walk off, Vaggie feeling awful for hitting you.

It would be up to you whether you forgave her.

If you instead stayed there, the both of you would stand there for a moment, the both of you tense before suddenly, a smile broke across your face, the both of you breaking into laughter, the two of you having a laugh.

Vaggie would step closer, gently touching your face, seeing how your cheek swelled in a hand shaped pattern.

She'd apologise, you taking her hand in yours, gently kissing the appendage, apologising as well.

You'd share an intimate little moment, acknowledging your mutual faults, before laughing it off, agreeing to move past that.

You'd hold her close, the two of you sharing a warm smile before a kiss, holding the short Queen close.

Stella

Now Stella... Didn't get violent.

At least not to you. You were her S/O after all.

But the woman was prone to outbursts, usually angry and especially during an argument, the woman able to go from zero to a hundred like it was nothing.

Granted, those fights usually ended in even more passionate fuckings, the two of you having am... unhealthy, yet passionate romance. Both of you aware of the fact yet neither wishing to really change it.

It'd be one night, the two of you at it again, scream and yelling, Stella throwing a pot at you, you mocking her for having shit aim.

Only for her throw herself at you, hitting you right across the face.

You'd both pause, you grabbing her arms, pinning her to the wall, the woman unable to escape your grip.

You'd hold her there, showing her who held the physical edge in your relationship.

Now, this was the first time Stella had actually struck you, as while your relationship wasn't exactly the healthiest, not many are in hell, but it was never downright abusive.

Now, you did have the option to walk away, this potentially becoming a vital role in the development of your relationship and be the catalyst to Stella genuinely changing her ways.

But let's be real, this is Stella were talking about, and you were with Stella, you knew thing about her, so that's not really gonna happen.

What would likely happen was sex.

Hot, passionate, and nasty sex, the two of you going again and again like a pair of Hellhounds in heat, you showing Stella who's the boss.

Youd make it clear that she wouldn't do that again, though with what happened last time she hit you, it was incredibly tempting.

But well, at the end of the day, Stella is Stella and with a sex life like yours, I doubt either of you would really wanna change it.

Husk

Alcohol.

Husk's Sinful mistress. A mistress you tolerated. For a while.

Now you liked a drink, Hell that was how you met. And with Husk, and Drink always became several.

And you had plenty of fun with Husk, both ina nd out of the sheets, but well, there was a limit.

You could barely communicate with the man in the later parts of the day, and with night the man became almost incoherent, not to mention how he reeked of an abandoned distillery at all hours of the day.

Granted, you'd spent plenty a night curled up with the man, Husk drunkenly adoring you, the Kitty cat curling up with you, acting very cat like as he reeked like a seedy bar.

Not that he'd ever admit such behaviour when sober.

But over time, you'd become more adamant that he start controlling his alcohol intake, and with this steady increase in your insistence, came a steady increase in fights.

You'd begin with a minor argument on his alcohol intake, it quickly growing into serious fights.

It'd be one night, you and Husk having plans, only for you to find him absolutely fucking sloshed.

You, sick of your S/O constantly being lost in the sauce, would start screaming.

You yelled at the cat demon, the man quickly yelling back.

You'd really get into it, yelling and screaming, going back and forth, the two of you screaming till your throats were sore.

But it'd be as you tried to snatch the bottle out of his hands, wanting him to pay you, ya know, his S/O, some attention.

And it'd be as he yanked the bottle back, that the man swung his arm back at you, smashing you in the face hit his big paw, knocking you to the floor.

Your face would sting, burning as tears stung your eyes, staring up at the cat.

Husk sobered up real quick as the man realised what he'd done.

There would be a long pause before you got up, sniffling to yourself before turning and walking away.

You'd end up sleeping in one of the other hotel's random rooms, you too emotional and frustrated to care which.

The next day you'd walk down stairs with a swollen cheek.

Husk would be waiting at his bar, the man thinking.

He'd been up most the morning, guzzling 2 pots of coffee to keep himself coherent, the cat waiting for you.

Seeing you enter the lobby, the man would jump up, asking, pleading with you to wait, to hear him out.

You'd pause, staring at the floor for several seconds.

If you just walked past him, ignoring his gaze, the man would be crushed. The cat finding himself torn between the bottle and his want to be with you, a desperate want for the familiar blur of intoxication.

He'd try, really hard to get better, to BE better, but with every refusal to engage he'd become more tightly wound, and unless you opened up, trying to work things out with him, he'd end up right where he began, but this time, it'd be all his fault.

If instead you turned, giving him a chance to speak, Husk wouldn't miss the chance.

He'd apologise, telling you he was painfully sorry. He wanted to change. He WOULD change, he just asked that you'd give him a chance.

You'd stand there for a while, but after a moment you turn to him.

You'd tell him he had one chance, if you saw him change, really change, you'd be willing to work it out.

Husk would agree, swearing he'd do his best to be the S/O you deserve.

Youd simply give him a soft smile, telling you hoped he would. You were rooting for him.

That being all the motivation he needed.

Husk really would do his best to go clean, unfortunately going absolutely cold Turkey wouldn't work, the man almost having a psychotic break at the lack of alcohol, and after finding him in such a state, you made a deal.

You'd ration out alcohol, a moderate amount each day, the man allowed to drink whenever he pleased in hopes it would diminish, if not help to ween him off of his alcohol dependency.

So, that's how it would go for the next several weeks. Husk drinking his daily allowance, working through willpower exercises and general hygiene care.

He'd also spend more time with you, and it'd be over the dates and the nights in that the man realised he barely knew you. The cat realising he'd really been an absent S/O.

The whole thing only solidifying his resolve to be better.

Over the next few months Husk's resolve would grow stronger, his willpower higher and most importantly, your relationship would become incredibly strong, the both of you coming to love each other deeply once more.

You'd never directly say it, but you forgave him for the smack, the man thanking you in his own way.

The two of you living a happy, mostly sober, existence with each other, happily in love and able to appreciate it.

Beezelbub

Fights with Bee would not be common, not at all, as despite her somewhat airheads nature, she was surprisingly mature, as well as able to read emotions well, so if you were ever in a mood she'd be on that like sexy was on her.

But well, we all have our off days.

And it'd be on a particularly off day that it'd go down.

Now, you understood that she was the Queen of Gluttony and a major foodie, the woman always eager to eat or drink something.

The problem was the drugs.

Now, dating her, you'd tasted just about every Sinful substance in Hell, but where as bee was happy to do mountains, you always tried to keep it at a healthy level, or well, healthy enough to not lose it, or developed any serious addictions, something Bee respected.

That night, in particular, Bee was on a real bender, the sort for the history books. If they have History books down here.

It'd be as she liquefied some powdered drug, mixing it into her drink, that you'd try to step in.

You'd ask her to slow down a little, not wanting her to freak out and demolish half the house.

Again.

Bee wouldn't like that, eagerly pulling you into join her, practically forcing the bottle down your throat.

That'd be when you snap at her, telling her that was enough.

You were all for fun and games, but this was too much. Every night?! You couldn't stand seeing her drugged out of her mind, not to mention the alcohol, woman barely able to speak coherently, let alone function as an S/O after her daily bender, even if she didn't suffer a hangover like everybody else.

Bee, while usually the kindest most understanding S/O you could ask for, but after a full night of drugs and drinking, she didn't take so well to you harshing the fucking vibe.

The two of you quickly getting into a screaming match, going back and forth, Bees palace empty by the end of it.

Bee would grow a few sizes, screaming at you, it being as you snap at her, telling her she clearly doesn't care for you as much as she does for her drugs.

The now massive Sin of Gluttony snarling, spinning around as she intended to yell about how much of a pain in the ass you were being.

However she she spun, he now Massive hand, slammed into you, launching you across the room.

Luckily for you both, you didn't hit anything, simply sliding across the palace' polished floors, but it would still hurt like a bitch, knocking the wind out of you.

Bee would shrink immediately, rushing to your side.

You were winded, struggling and whining as you tried to breath, in pain and deep discomfort, unable to do anything as she fussed over you.

Eventually you'd get your breath back, panting and wheezing, body sore from the smack.

Bee would be distraught, apologising profusely, the woman in hysterics, crying her eyes out as she tried to convince you she was telling the truth.

You could let her hold you close, allowing her to apologise, to help you recover.

If instead you pulled away, wheezing and struggling to your feet. Bee of course trying to help, you simply snapping, telling her she's done enough.

Your relationship would he frayed, Bee trying her absolute best to make it up to you, to be better and save your relationship.

If instead you let her hold you, letting the Sin care for you in your battered state, Bee would do everything she could, caring for you until you fully recovered, the woman apologising the whole way.

The two of you would take some much needed time together, talking and working through your issues.

It wouldn't be easy, you making sure she knew you didn't wanna control her, but you wanted to be with your S/O, and when she was higher than a kite every night, that became difficult.

While Bee would explain such indulgence was part of her being. It would be like holding back a laugh to not indulge in it.

It would take soem time but the two of you would come to understand each other on a much better level.

Asmodeus

Arguments and fights weren't really a thing for you and Ozzie.

Like, you'd get into tufts. Squabbles and arguments. But never quite a fight.

But this was different, the two of you getting into an argument.

You couldn't even remember what started it, but it was like you'd both been holding something in for months and it was finally let out.

You argued and yelled, going back and forth, arguing over nothing and yet, everything, neither of you willing to stand down.

It'd be as you screamed yet another profanity at the man, moving towards him to let him know just what you thought about him.

And it'd be as you reached the man, about to scream another explitive, that he'd suddenly spin about face, planning on tearing you a new one, only for a loud 'smack!' to ring out, the Sin freezing in place.

Raising his hand, he'd find it stinging ever so slightly, the man looking up to find you turned away, clutching yourself.

Ozzie, realising what had happened would try to reach out to you, trying to process what had happened.

He'd turn you around, finding you clutching your face, your right cheek already swelling.

Ozzie, lowering himself down would apologise, telling you he was so very sorry, assuring you he meant no harm, he'd never intentionally harm you.

You could pull away, leaving him as he pleaded with you to believe he was sorry, that he'd never mean to hurt you. Never!

This, as always, could be the event that makes or breaks your relationship. You could move away from him, still loving him but unable to truly forgive him hurting you, despite it being an accident, your relationship never healing.

Or, as he stood over you, you could let him care for youthe man pulling you to his massive chest, holding you tenderly as he whispered softly apologies, carrying you to your bed.

He'd curl up with you, checking your swollen face, apologising profusely as he tenderly cared for you.

Ozzie would apologise profusely, the two of you holding each other close, holding the other close for a long, long time.

You'd talk for a long time, softly apologising to the other, you nuzzling the man's neck, the Sin holding you in his powerful arms.

You'd spend some much needed quality time together, the silent, tense moment slowly giving way to a warmer mor intimate moment, the two of you quickly giggling and teasing each other, laughing at how ridiculous the whole fight had been.

It'd be as you shared a kiss, you straddling his chest as his powerful hands gripped your body.

It'd be as you parted, a Web of spittle still connecting you that you'd grin, grabbing his collar as you purred out that you kinda liked it.

Ozzie, snapping out of his schoolboy blush, would grin, the man pouncing on you, the two of you making passionate, wild love all night long.

Congratulations everyone! We've reached 3,500 followers!!!

So, as promised I give you a brand spanking new headcanon, I hope you all enjoy it and I hope you had a fan-freaking-tastic holiday season.

I love each and every one of you and wish you the very best, bye bye.

#helluva boss #headcanon #helluva boss headcanon #x reader #helluva boss x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel x reader #stolas x reader #husk x reader #stella x reader #vaggie x reader #millie x reader #loona x reader #beezlebub x reader #asmodeus x reader

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obliviouscxnt · 3 months

Text

Nightmare Azriel x Reader

a/n: oh my god, I’m actually so shocked by the feedback from the last fic. It gave me the serotonin and motivation to write a part two :o I'm probably going to make this into a series, I have many ideas!! Maybe some smut if I'm feeling brave... thank you so much, I hope you enjoy! :))

can be read as a standalone, but without some context from pt.1 things might become confusing

synopsis: your need to help gets you into trouble

Warnings: strong(?) hints of sexual activities, minor angst, minor violence, fluff

pt. 1 | pt.3

In the corner of his eye, he can see you picking at your fingers. Your sharp nails do unnecessary damage to your fragile hands.

He knew you were worried for Feyre, ever since she’d been taken to the spring court you’d been on edge.

It went beyond a loyal subject worrying about her High Lady. You fretted for Feyre like you would Amren, or Rhys, or Mor, or Cassian.

Though it was endearing in a way, Azriel didn’t like the way that worry manifested. The way you unknowingly damaged yourself. Your bottom lip was split open from gnawing on it, the skin on your fingers was peeled back and inflamed, and dark circles found their place under your eyes from sleepless nights. Unable to really rest when your friend was in the jaws of the spring beast.

His shadows reach for you, demanding to be with you.

He let a few of them loose, watching as they traveled to you instantly. One settled at your hands, weaving between each of your fingers and curling around your wrist. Another rested on your shoulder, brushing your face. The others couldn’t decide where to settle, traveling over your body frantically as they tried to comfort you.

The shadowsinger was about to pull them back, but as soon as they felt his pull they settled in whichever place they could. Nuzzling against you. Desperate to stay with you, comfort you.

Azriel found it amusing, and so utterly relatable.

He forces his attention back to the papers on his desk. Which was more than a struggle.

It was an impossible task, staring at building diagrams and reading reports from his spies, when the most magnificent woman he’d ever known sat not three feet from him.

Then he felt your eyes on him, and he knew there was no point even trying. He wouldn’t be able to focus.

He meets your gaze and arches a perfect brow.

You wanted to ask him something. That much was obvious. But you hesitated, you didn’t know if he would say yes.

“What is it?”

You glanced down at your hands, then up at him, then back down at your hands. “May I go see Rhys?” Your voice is small as you ask.

When you heard the shadowsinger sigh you knew what the answer would be.

Azriel ran a hand through his hair as he watched you.

You had been asking that a lot recently, and at first he allowed it. He saw no harm in you sitting with his brother, helping him when he needed help, listening when he checked in on Feyre through their bond. He knew his brother didn’t mind, he understood your anxiety and shared it with you tenfold. But Rhysand had a lot to deal with, so for that reason, Azriel shook his head.

“Rhys is very busy.” He starts, extending an open hand toward you. Smile tugging at his lips when you walk around the desk and place your hand in his. “Feyre is strong, she can handle herself.” He assures you as he pulls you to stand between his legs, letting his hands soothe your body. Letting his shadows join him.

But he can tell by how tense you were that his assurance wasn’t helping.

His fingers thread through your hair. “You want to help Feyre, is that it?” His thumb brushed over your jaw as you nod. “Why don’t you pay her sisters a visit? I’m sure that would ease some of her stress, to know that you’re there for them like you were for her.”

He watched some light enter your eyes and almost smiled in victory. You were so enthralled with the idea, you tried to run out of his office to visit them right at that moment. He caught you, pulling you back against him until you sat in his lap. “Tomorrow.” He breathed.

You leaned into him, coaxed by his hands. Sighing as his mouth plants wet kisses down your neck, shivering when you feel his tongue come out to lick over your pulse.

Azriel let himself get lost in you. In feeling you against him. In bathing in your scent.

He doesn’t let himself second guess his suggestion, even though there was a very reasonable voice in his head that was kicking him. A voice that berated him for being so foolish. That screamed to just let you see Rhys. That begged to keep you far, far away from Nesta Acheron.

But that voice is drowned out by his need for you.

He groans when you turn around in his lap, straddling him, shimmering black dress riding up your thighs. His hands immediately find purchase on them, squeezing. While yours tangle in his hair.

You pant, lips parted as your eyes run over him. Stopping at his lips, his eyes, his mouth, his neck, the hands that squeezed your thighs when you looked at them. You were mesmerized by him.

You needed him. Gods, you needed him.

He kissed you like a starved beast. You moaned when his tongue brushed over the roof of your mouth, eliciting a hum from him. His hands slid up to your hips so he could grind you against him, hiking your dress up with them.

You feel him harden beneath you.

“What do you want?” He asks against your lips, kissing them again, then kissing along your jaw, and then kissing back down your neck. Latching on to the spot that had your hands gripping his hair, your thighs tightening around his hips.

“I…” You try, but words won’t form, only sounds.

He parts with your neck to lean his head against yours. Looking in your eyes. Pulling back a bit when you move to kiss him. Hands now holding your hips still against him, torturing you with the feeling of him pressed against you.

Your eyes plead with him, your sharp nails almost digging into his scalp as you lost yourself, and he can’t stop the smirk of pure satisfaction from spreading across his face. “Tell me what you want.”

You shudder when you feel him twitch underneath you. “Please.” His hands squeeze your hips. “Please. Use me.”

The groan that left his mouth had to be the most sinful thing you’d ever heard.

*****

Anxiety chews on your mind, spits it out, and chews it back up again. You wring your shaking hands.

Before you was the door that separated you from the Acheron sisters.

You knew of them, knew what they were like from what Feyre had told you. And now that you were thinking about it, you didn’t want to help them. Not for their sake.

But for Feyre… You’d started coming to terms with the fact that you’d do just about anything for her.

However, that didn’t stop your heart from beating so fast you were afraid it would fail.

Azriel’s hands rest on your upper arms and he leans down to your ear. “Breathe.” You absentmindedly lean into him, relishing in the feeling of his lips brushing your ear. His breath fanning across your cheek.

“If you can’t handle this we’ll go back.” He says, making it very obvious that he wouldn’t mind curling back up in bed with you. You exhale a shaky breath as his hand slowly slides over your breast, your nipple hardens under the silky fabric of your dress and he traces it with his finger. You were seriously debating it.

But your need to help in some way, to do something useful wins.

“I can handle it.” You say, sounding not at all sure of yourself.

But he listens, moving his hands to rest back on your arms. Thumbs drawing calm circles.

You give yourself a moment to breathe. Leaning your head back against his chest. Feeling your stomach flip when his lips press against your head.

When you were finally ready he opened the door for you. You took one more futile deep breath, all the air in the world wouldn’t be able to tame your emotions, then walked in with a friendly smile plastered on your face.

You immediately wished you’d accepted his offer to go back to bed when the harsh eyes of the oldest Acheron sister settled on you. There was no mistaking who was who.

“What are you?”

Her words were like a physical blow. Her voice, colder than ice. You step back bumping into Azriel’s chest.

He rests a hand on your shoulder as if to say, we can still go back. But you’d made your choice, you were here to offer your help. If they didn’t want it, then fine, but you would still offer it.

“A friend,” You manage to say. Her cruel gaze felt like a physical weight on your being. So scrutinizing, so full of hate. It’d been a while since someone cast eyes like that your way. Azriel had been careful to make sure of that. “Of Feyre’s.”

Her stare narrows on you. Drinking you in. You watch her gaze snag on your pointed teeth. You close your mouth. Whatever you were about to say dying in your throat.

“Some friend.”

Azriel glared at Nesta, the warning clear on his face. Say no more. He puts a hand on your lower back, guiding you to where the other sister sat, on a chair in front of a window.

The weight of Nesta's stare never left you.

But when you see Elaine, all of it ceases to matter.

All thoughts left your brain. Not unlike how you got sometimes with Azriel—when all the pleasure became too much—but also completely different. It wasn’t Azriel guiding you now.

It was what lived inside you, the writhing magic that was always thrumming under your skin.

Your brain doesn’t register how the girl looks, hollow; as if someone scooped all the life out of her. Your brain doesn’t register a thing except the irresistible pull.

You could feel it, or her, calling to you. Beckoning you closer.

You couldn’t refuse.

When your mind came back to your body, you stood directly in front of Elaine. Your palm cupping her face.

Then you felt something awful slither into your head. It slipped through the crevices of your mental barriers and crawled into a dark corner of your mind. Hiding from you, even though you could feel it watching.

Nausea overcame you. You snatch your hand back like she burned you. Shuffling back toward Azriel who looked at you with concern.

Then Elaine's eyes closed. Nesta rushed to her sister as she went unconscious. Almost falling out of her chair. The older Acheron managed to catch her in time with help from Azriel’s shadows.

You turned to Azriel. “I want to go.” Your words barely a whisper.

His eyes widen when he sees the fear on your face. The horror. His shadows encompass you, providing your body with a cover, a shield.

“What did you do?!” Nesta shouted through pants of fatigue, having just lugged her sister to bed. You gripped Azriel’s shirt and he held you close to him as he led you out. Away from the screaming woman. “What did you do to my sister?!”

*****

“What happened?”

You swallowed at your High Lord, glancing at Azriel. For what? You didn’t know. Help? Comfort maybe? Whatever it may be you didn’t receive it. All you got was a nod in Rhysand’s direction.

So you turn back, struggling to find your words under his serious gaze. Not harsh, but very, very serious. “I don’t know. She looked so tired… I just—It felt like she was calling to me.” Trying not to think about that thing you could still feel hiding. Still, feel looking at you with eyes you couldn’t see.

He waved for you to continue.

“She’s fine.” You say, and somehow find yourself completely sure of those words. Though you had watched her pass out with your own eyes. Knew it was your doing.

“How do you know that? This is different. Even Azriel said he’s never seen you do something like that before.” You look down at your hands, picking at the already torn skin.

You don’t dare look up when you feel Rhys rise from his seat. Feel him walk around his desk until he’s in front of you. It's when he speaks that you feel the need to meet his stare.

He holds a hand over your head. “May I?”

Azriel steps forward. Looking as if he were about to protest. Rhys shoots him a look that makes him stop.

Rhys needed to know what happened, to make sure you didn't harm his mate's sister. The bond took control of his instincts. Your word wouldn't suffice.

You’d never deny your High Lord a request. Never deny any of your friends a request. You never had before, Azriel always had to step in and do it for you.

So when you stiffly shook your head no, well, to say they were shocked would be an understatement.

Your whole body was tense as if just the act of refusing took everything out of you. Required every bone, every muscle, and every bit of air in your body.

But you couldn’t risk that thing infecting Rhys. Not when you didn’t know what it was. Not when you could feel its hungry stare.

You held your breath until Rhysand’s hand dropped to his side.

Your felt physically ill. The weight of what you just did settling on you. You stiffly turned to Azriel.

“I want to go.” You said for the second time that day.

Azriel’s brows dipped as he looked at you, worry covering his features. His shadows were restless, flicking with agitation as they too struggled to see you so bothered.

He glances at Rhys but the High Lord gives him a look of sympathy. “I need to speak with you.”

The shadowsinger’s jaw clenched. Wanting nothing more than to refuse, to point out the state you were in even though it was as clear as day.

But he couldn’t say no to his brother, not after all he’d done for them.

He walks you to the office door, turning you to face him before you can leave. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your head. His words were nothing but breath against your ear. A whisper for only you to hear. “Go to bed. I’ll join you soon.” But you didn't walk away, looking unsure, nervous. “Go.”

Your only consolation, as you left, were the shadows that parted with him and linked with you.

Once you were far enough down the hall the High Lord spoke. “What was she thinking?” He paced in front of his desk. “She knows her magic is dangerous… did she even read those books Helion sent?” He swallowed as he remembered the limited information those three books had, the only books that made any mention of dreamwalkers.

“Of course, she read them, you asked her too.” Azriel said, bite in his tone. Making Rhys sigh and stop his pacing. The High Lord sends an apologetic look to his brother as he sits on the front of his desk. “She wasn’t thinking,” Azriel says after a few moments of silence.

Rhys raised a brow, silently telling him to elaborate.

The shadowsinger leans back, remembering that look on your face. A look he’d seen many times, but never in a public setting, and you never moved on your own. “She was in a trance.”

“Elaine could’ve done something to her.” Rhys thinks aloud, making Azriel straighten.

Did she curse you? They still had no idea what gifts the cauldron bestowed upon the Acheron sisters. The last thing he wanted was for you to be on the receiving end of those gifts.

Both Illyrian men sat in worry.

“I’m sorry, I suggested she visit them. I thought maybe she’d click with them like she did Feyre.” Azriel says, running a hand down his face.

Rhys shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. I know she wants to help. And not everyone can be as charming as Feyre.” At that, the brothers shared a strained smile.

“How is she?”

Rhys let out a deep breath as he picked imaginary lint off his clothes. “Alive.”

Azriel couldn’t imagine how he’d act if you were in enemy territory, the thought making him tense, body itching to be near you. He’d die before he’d let that happen.

“She’ll be home soon.” Azriel offers Rhys the words of comfort, even though they wouldn't do much.

Before Rhys could reply shadows scurried under the door rushing to Azriel.

The shadowsinger’s face went pale at their whispers. He shot up from his seat. “[name].”

Then a loud bang was heard followed by a scream of bloody murder.

The two males were rushing out of the room and running through the halls of the house within a split second. Somewhere along the way Cassian had joined them, shirtless and sweaty. Having rushed out of the training room the moment he heard the bang.

More bangs sound, but none as loud as the first one. And no more screams follow.

Azriel found himself wishing for you to scream. If you were screaming you were breathing.

He burst through the door of your shared chambers, almost knocking it down. He didn't stop to stare at the sight before him like his brothers did. There was no time to pause, not when you were being shoved into the tub by Hybern soldiers, their jagged nails gashing your beautiful skin. Their faces were unnatural and barely formed. Some were faceless, just flat skin and dark empty holes where their eyes and mouths should've been.

Stood behind you was the disfigured form of the King of Hybern himself. His body was reconstructed by the nightmare, making his fae features more monstrous. More fitting for his character.

The evil king's smile stretched from ear to ear as you thrashed under the cold water.

Azriel shoved his way through, ripping you from their arms and dragging you out of the tub. But the soldiers didn’t stop. Still reaching for you with their long slender fingers.

Tears flowed from your closed eyes, your body twitching and shaking as you were tortured both in your mind and outside it.

“Rhys!” Azriel shouted springing the High Lord into action. He rushed over, dodging the grabbing arms before setting both hands on either side of your head and forcing you to wake.

Your eyes snapped open, gulping in as much air as possible. The figures dissipated into thin air. Like a flame being snuffed out.

You squirmed away from the hands of your High Lord. Pushing against the firm body you adored so much.

You grabbed Azriel, holding him tight. So tight he wouldn’t be able to leave you again. Too afraid to worry about your bare body and the fact that both Cassian and Rhysand could see. Too afraid to notice the other person who stood at the doorway with wide eyes. Too afraid to do anything but hold him.

“Shhh. I’m here now. I’m here.” He held you tighter as your body shook with silent sobs. “I’m here. I’m here.”

You know what happened now. What that thing was. Gripping Azriel tighter as the knowledge weighed on your brain.

You tensed when he lifted your shivering body into the outstretched towel Cassian held. Azriel pulls you close to him when you recoil away from his brother's gentle touch.

Cassian watched Azriel wrap the towel around you. Heart heavy as you clung to his brother. A look of pure dread etched on your face, accompanied by a stream of never-ending tears.

You’re vaguely aware of Rhys rummaging through your drawers in the background. Vaguely aware of Azriel lifting you once more. Cradling you against him as he carried you to the bed.

He took the medical supplies from Rhys and then asked his brothers to leave. They hesitantly obliged, taking the shocked Nesta Acheron with them and closing the slightly damaged door.

He lays you down on the bed, backing up a bit to open the first aid kit but you lurch for him. Arms tightening around his neck.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He says, wishing he never had to say such words to you. “I’m right here with you.” Feeling his chest split in half when you reluctantly let him go. Bottom lip quivering.

His hands are softer than usual as they patch you up. Frown deepening at every single scratch, and bruise he saw. His fingers brush over an already forming bruise on your waist. Bile rose in his throat as the image of those horrid hands grabbing and piercing your smooth skin filled his mind.

“I took it from her.”

Your broken confession drew his attention away from the bruise and to your scared eyes. He felt helpless as he stared into them, he should've never left you. He cradled your face, thumbing away your tears only for more to take their place. He brushed those away too.

“That nightmare. I took it from her.”

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #rhys acotar #nesta archeron #azriel x you #cassian acotar

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Note

hello ! i loved ur hcs for ghost x innocent reader sm, what do you think of könig x innocent reader? love ur writing ♡

König w/ an Innocent S/O

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Overprotective König, Rizzed-Out König, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

There is nothing König won’t do for you.

Your overall calm, kind demeanour brings him peace he’s never known before.

And because of that – because he adores you beyond measure – he can get very…protective.

He often treats you as more fragile than you actually are.

Horror film playing in the background while you’re talking ? It’s getting switched off.

A picture of someone exposing a shoulder in a swimsuit catalogue? It’s getting thrown into a fire.

A pair of your own underwear left unattended next to the wash bin? König’s stuffing it into the bottom of the basket.

There comes a point where you have to tell him that, yes, while you may be a little naïve, even a bit oblivious, you’re not stupid.

And, as best he can, König treats you as you want to be treated, which is to say not as if you are a nigh-extinct species of flower.

And, given this new ‘power’ as such – this permission to show you the less rounded edges of life – König begins to have some rather self-serving ideas.

Regardless of if you like horror films or not, König will use it against you.

He’ll test your stomach for terror, putting something frightening on whenever you’re having date night to see if you’ll cling to him.

And if you do, irrespective of whether you fear what’s happening on-screen or not, his soul will ascend.

He can die happy when you hold on to him, nuzzling into his side while quietly asking him to “Hold me, Köni. Please.”

Makes him feel all big and important.

Wear his clothes around him, my God–

First time he saw you in his hoodie – after an impromptu visit from the Rain God made your original outfit unusable – he literally did a double-take.

He dropped the plate he was washing, grasped at it as it slipped between his soap-frothed fingers.

He just punched it into the sink, heard something crack, and turned his attention to you. And only you.

“I– You–” König couldn’t even form a full sentence as you stared at him, half-peeking from behind the door.

“You look…” He racked every file, folder and confine of his mind for anything to describe how he felt right now, how you made him feel.

It just came out as a strangled noise. And, smiling, you hurried into his arms.

You didn’t mind that they were soapy and wet. And neither did König.

Though, the only reason he didn’t was because his brain was so positively fried that he quite literally could think of nothing else except you.

The longer you’ve been dating, the more comfortable König becomes with being rougher with you, shall we say.

It all starts when you start doing things you never did before.

Like letting your hands slip lower beneath his waist, resting on his hips; Sitting on his lap when there are no other spaces available – and then eventually when there are seats available; saying his name like that – “Köni,” when you need help.

“I just can’t do it all by myself. I need someone big and strong to do it for me.”

And, regardless of how sincere you sound when you say it, regardless of how you bat your eyelashes and plump your lips when you look up at him, König is far too whipped to say no.

At first, König genuinely doesn’t think you’re doing it intentionally.

And neither do you, until you see the effect it has on him.

Making his cheeks flush and a pillow find its way to his lap when he sits on the sofa, your head placed precariously close to the growing issue between his legs.

Now, König isn’t the type to go throwing accusations around.

But when he catches you wearing his favourite hoodie, balancing on the edge of the kitchen counter to reach something placed on top of the cabinets (and I don’t mean the top shelf; I mean on TOP of the cabinets – like when you’re hiding a Christmas gift), your underwear peeking just below the hem, he can’t take it.

He knows what you’re doing.

And now that you’ve let onto him, with your doe eyes and your exasperated “Köni, I need you–” he’s gone. Snapped.

Just because you’re “innocent” doesn’t mean you’re exempt from König’s wrath.

To put it plainly, König didn’t seem so shy or frightful of damaging that night as he pinned you to the wall and took you for the first time <3

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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princekeerys · 17 days

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Human Alastor with an s/o who knows he is a serial killer but was never bothered by it.

human alastor is beginning to grow on me a lot, this is possibly the fastest blurb i’ve ever written <333

☾. °. ࿐ ` , •

“you don’t have to do this every time i come home, my darling”

you were both sat on the edge of the bathtub, a wet washcloth that was warm in your hand as you cleaned alastor’s face of his victim’s blood. you didn’t know what time it was — all you knew is that it was late. and no one was up at this godforsaken hour.

“i know i don’t have to. but i do it because i want to,” you wipe off the last remainder of red splotches on his cheek, gentle and with care. and he’s staring into your eyes almost as if he’s enchanted by you. “think of it as a way of saying thank you, i suppose”

alastor chuckles at your silly little statement.

“thank you? my dear,” he reaches up to gently cup your cheek. your movements nearly stutter at how flustered you get, eyes widening with a flutter of your eyelashes. “there is no need to thank me in such a way when you know i’d kill anyone who even looks in your direction”

it’s messed up, you know, how your heart skips a beat at his confession, how it warms your heart that he’ll make damn sure that you’ll only be his for all eternity and beyond.

but you can’t help it.

everyone you’ve ever known has always been so prim and proper, made it feel like you were stepping on glass as you had to watch what you said and did so you weren’t damned.

but with alastor? he was a true gentleman; in a dark and twisted way. he danced with you in the living room to soft jazz, telling you how you were the most beautiful belle he’d ever laid his eyes on. you shared kisses in dark alleyways that you knew no one walked through at nighttime. he made you feel like a princess in some sort of fairytale.

it was poetic, bloody, and dark all at once.

and you were addicted to the thrill of it all.

you set the now blood stained cloth down as you took alastor’s glasses off his face, cleaning them with a breath and the hem of your summer dress.

“and you know i’ll always be here to clean you up afterwards,” you carefully place his glasses back on his face. you busy yourself with his bowtie, making sure it wasn’t crooked. “you don’t scare me. and neither does your infatuation with me. it’s rather… charming”

alastor hooks his pointer finger underneath your chin, making you look up at him.

“i suppose that makes us quite the pair then, hm?” he leans in closer with half lidded eyes.

“a murderous chap and his innocent beau”

please comment/reblog if you enjoyed my works, it’s greatly appreciated <3

#❥ lexi’s daydreams #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor fluff #alastor imagine #alastor fanfiction #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader

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osachiyo · 6 months

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ʚ ᴅᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ɞ | fyodor d. & dazai o.

† ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs : fyodor dostoevsky & dazai osamu x fem!reader

† ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs : nsfw content (mdni), rough sex, deepthroating, hair pulling, edging, uses of sex toys (dildo), pussy slapping, face slapping, spitroast, fingering, oral (f & m), unprotected sex (please be careful irl), fyozai is a warning in itself, degradation etc

† ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ : HAHA I TOLD U GUYS I'D DO A FYOZAI FIC SOMEDAY!! finally done with this, I wanted to make it longer but felt like I was holding it up for too long. happy reading & I hope you guys enjoy <3 not proofread!!

"aren't you just adorable?" Dazai smirked, cheek resting on his palm as he took in the view you offered them.

Tears dripped down your swollen and puffy cheeks, making your skin glisten. The two men infront of you merely chuckled, clearly enjoying your suffering.

You were beyond frustrated, being edged for god knows how long, thighs starting to ache from the squatting position as you rode that god forsaken dildo you used to fuck yourself earlier that night, behind Dazai and Fyodor's backs. You just couldn't help it, so so needy everytime they leave you alone. You were just a dumb little girl after all, their stupid little plaything. "are you enjoying yourself, dear?" Fyodor cooed, thumb wiping the salty water from your eyes as you shook your head vigorously. A hand wrapped itself around your hair, tugging on it harshly, "good," Dazai's tone was low, an edge to his usually cheery sing-song voice, making you shudder.

It was all so lewd, the way they could see everything, pussy squelching as your juices drip down the dildo, coating the cheap silicone with your essence. "does this feel better than our cocks, my dear? you did look like you were enjoying yourself quite a bit when you were pleasuring yourself like a little whore behind your masters' backs," Fyodor hummed, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes holding a mysterious glint. His voice was flat and he held a perfect pokerface, making you unable to figure out if he was upset or not. You sniffled, cheeks puffed out into a pitiful pout, "n-no! I swear—!" you were cut off by your own gasp when the dildo started vibrating. You didn't know it could do that. The two men snickered between themselves, dangling a remote control infront of your dumbfounded face.

"what? cat got your tongue, sweetheart?" Dazai laughed, turning the vibrations up, making your whole body jolt as your eyes crossed slightly, pussy clamping down on the dildo so tightly that it almost slipped out, jaw slack as you tried your best to hold yourself together. "we knew all along, just wanted to test you," the brunnete cooed, tilting your chin up with his thumb to make you look up at him with those puffy, teary eyes that he grew to love. He leaned closer, wiping the tears dripping down your heated cheeks before squeezing them harshly, his breath tickling your ear, "and you failed."

You couldn't keep count of how many times they had denied your orgasm, making you beg, beg and beg, only to laugh at your face for being so pathetic and needy. Eventually, you became too tired from bouncing on the dildo. Now with your back against Fyodor's chest as he worked the toy in and out of your battered cunt while Dazai busied himself between your spread legs. You could feel his hot breath fanning against your clit as the ravened hair man fastened the pace of the pretty pink toy inside of your gooey cunt. "такая непослушная девчонка, да?" Fyodor's deep voice woke you from the trance you were in. You didn't understand a thing he said but god, him speaking russian made you clench harder on the vibrating toy, making Dazai's breath hitch as more of your sweet juices gushed out. You threw your head back when Dazai's lips wrapped around your clit, swirling his tongue around the aching bud, making you gush all over the place from the overwhelming pleasure. Fyodor only scoffed, pulling the toy out of you with a wet 'pop!' before you could fully enjoy the orgasmic bliss. "I thought I had made it clear that you are forbidden to cum without my permission, without our permission?" Dazai pulled away from your cunt begrudgingly, strings of your arousal sticking to his lips, "looks like our dumb little slut can't even follow simple rules now, huh?" He landed a swift smack to your clit just as you were about to protest, a pathetic cry escaping your plump and swollen lips. "now, why don't you apologize and beg for our forgiveness, my dear?" Fyodor cupped your breasts from behind, twisting and pulling at your hardened buds as you hiccuped, nodding. " 'm so sorry, I—!" you were cut off by dazai burying his face back into your pussy, licking and sucking on your lower lips. "continue," Fyodor sighed, rubbing small circles into your hip as you tried your best to collect yourself. It was so fucking hard to focus with Dazai between your pretty legs, his bandaged hands gripping your thighs apart as his nose bumped your clit everytime his tongue slipped into your warm, sticky hole. " 'm sorry that I..touched myself w-while you two were busy— mm!— and for- for being such a bad girl," you sniffled, fat tears dripping down your cheeks like two waterfalls, gasping when Dazai shoved two of his slim fingers into your cunt, curling them just right to have you seeing stars. "and— oh!— and I'll never ever d-do it again! just please— pleasepleaseplease let me cum! I'll be a good- good girl, I promise!" you sobbed, toes curling as the chestnut haired man's pace got faster, drilling his fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace while his tongue worked wonders on your pearl. Fyodor's hand smoothed down your bare back, chuckling when the faintest goosebumps appear on your skin from his unusually cold temperature, "apology accepted. cum." And that's all you needed to squirt all over Dazai's face with a high pitched squeal, soaking his brown locks along with the collar of his shirt as he tried his best to swallow all your juices, not leaving a drop behind. "atta girl, did so good for us, yeah?" Dazai hummed between your thighs, voice muffled from your pussy. His voice was smooth, and an octave lower, dripping with arousal and carnal hunger for you, to ruin you beyond repair.

You were now on your hands and knees, worshipping Dazai's cock as Fyodor played with your oversensitive pussy. His cold fingers ghosted over your clit before cracking down a harsh spank on it. You cried and gurgled around the brunnette's cock. "easy now, darling. wouldn't want my pretty girl to choke," he cooed, wiping a stray tear from your eye. Your makeup was absolutely ruined, mascara running down your face in streaks along with your seemingly unending tears as your lipstick smudged and formed rings around Dazai's throbbing cock, from the tip to all the way down to the base. Fyodor wasn't at all happy with all of your attention on his rival, meanly pinching your clit between his thumb and pointed finger before landing another harsh smack on it. You jolted and tried to look back at him, but Dazai's grip was firm, locking your head in place as he thrusted up into your awaiting mouth. It was astounding how much strength he had, despite having being on the leaner side. He wasn't called the 'demon prodigy' for no reason. Your attention went back to the man behind you once again, when you felt something hot circling your entrance; his cock. It was so pretty, he wasn't on the girthier side but the length made up for it. You could see beads of precum pearling at his slit, letting you know that he wanted this just as much as you.

Your eyes rolled back in your skull when he finally, finally pushed into you, pussy sucking him in deliciously. Fyodor felt his breath hitch, his grip on your waist tightening as he tried his best not to moan from the feeling of your cunt gripping him so nicely, he couldn't, not infront of Dazai. The said man only chuckled, knowing exactly what was going on in the raven's mind, "feels good, huh?" Fyodor merely ignored him, focusing on the euphoric feeling of you wrapped around his cock. God, he didn't even realize how badly he had been wanting this, too intent on punishing you. Lithe fingers found your aching clit once again, rubbing the delicate pearl gently as he slowly rocked into you. You could feel him inside your tummy, setting your insides ablaze as he makes himself at home inside that sweet, sweet heaven between your legs.

Dazai, on the otherhand, was anything but gentle; fingers tangled in your hair as he held you in place, thrusting in and out of your mouth vigorously. Your jaw started to hurt, it'll most definitely be sore tomorrow but you didn't care. Not while getting pounded so nicely by Fyodor, as Dazai deepthroated you ruthlessly.

Fyodor was now slamming into you with much more force, blunt fingernails leaving small indents on your supple skin. His cock felt like it was about to burst, a creamy white ring forming at the base of his cock, while his eyes slightly rolled back from your pussy tightening around him. Your focus was now solely on Fyodor and the way he ruined your pussy so additively, and Dazai was not having any of that. Your eyes widened when you felt a sharp sting on your left cheek, before his thumb smoothed it down, "focus on this cock, yeah angel? god, fuuck— you're taking me so well," he moaned, yanking your head up and down by your roots, snot and tears dripping down your face at the roughness of it all.

The inside your lower tummy kept getting hotter and hotter, before bursting into flames as your orgasm hit you like a truck. " 's good— so goood—" you slurred, unable to think straight as the ravened man came inside you with one last thrust, slim hips flush against your ass, while he shot his load inside of you with a guttural groan. Dazai came shortly after, pulling out at the last moment to cum all over your face, some of it even got in your hair. You were utterly exhausted, eyes about to close— "now, how about..this time, fedya takes this little mouth, while I ruin that pretty pussy of yours further?" "I think that is a wonderful idea," Fyodor agreed, still breathless from blowing your back out.

you were so in trouble.

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