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inkykeiji · 6 months

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character: shigaraki tomura x fem!reader warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, dry humping, rough messy kisses, tomura is a meanie words: 1.3k

just been daydreaming about kissing tomura’s scars and leave the prettiest, sparkliest smears of pink lip gloss along his neck and collarbone ♡ and how much he supposedly ‘hates’ it ♡

“i told you to stop doing this,” his voice vibrates against your lips, head tilting further back, allowing you more room to work. “you’re making a fucking mess.”

“m’sorry,” you murmur into the curve of his shoulder, not seeming apologetic in the slightest, planting another kiss, hard and puckered and full of purpose, to the protruding bones. “can’t help it.”

“b-bitch,” he keens out, curse fading to a gasp on his tongue.

giggling, you string another garland of pecks along the curve of his neck to the hinge of his jaw, then across the defined edge, leaving smears of pretty pink lip gloss.

it’s real cute, you think, the way he acts as if he doesn’t love it, grumbles about how sticky it is, how it clumps his hair together and dries all hard and shimmery, but secretly he loves finding remnants of glitter—of you—all over him; his fingertips, his collarbone, his lips, his hair, his eyelashes; tiny sparkling reminders that you were there, that you’ve staked your claim, leaving a galaxy of constellations across his body that bear your name.

he acts as if it’s such a nuisance, as if he doesn’t adore the way your lips paint his fresh gouges, new gashes, in the prettiest shimmers of you; your gloss, your drool, your scent—notes that linger far after you’re gone, notes that seep into his skin, that produce phantom tingles of longing when he’s laying alone in the middle of the night, warm and wiggling beneath his flesh.

he acts as if he doesn’t find it breathtakingly beautiful, the way his self-inflicted scars glimmer, the worst part of himself made pretty by you.

he acts as if if it doesn’t make his cock twitch in his jeans—even though you know it does, even though he knows you know it does, indicated by your girlish giggles as you bounce a little in his lap and lick another fat strip of saliva up the column of his neck, tongue tracing over that prominent adam’s apple that trembles with a growl or throbs with a thick swallow, to punctuate the lick with a sticky, gloss saturated kiss, right beneath his chin.

he acts like this for as long as he can stand it, for as long as his soul will allow it, until he physically can’t take it anymore, the clawing at his chest and in his veins too much to bear, large hands curling around your hips and squeezing, hard, holding you in place as he ruts up into your clothed core, movements sloppy and uneven.

there’s no finesse to it, no set rhythm or pace, hips bucking wildly as he compels you to stay put, damn it, the demand spit out in a ragged whine.

his mouth clashes against your own in a crude imitation of a kiss, sucking your lips into his mouth with enough force to yank a yelp from your chest.

sharp teeth scrape your upper lip and the underside of your nose, leaving raised, raw little abrasions in their wake as they gnaw on your mouth, bottom row grating over your chin and dragging up, harvesting fat globs of the sticky substance behind their sawtoothed edges.

muffled moans soak into your flesh, pitchy and splintered to bits by heavy pants as he restlessly scours your mouth, scrubs it near clean, teeth depositing clots of gloss onto his tongue.

it hurts, the constant rubbing of his teeth leaving your skin chafed and bloodied, but he doesn’t fucking care, greedily swallowing down your resounding squeals and cries, starved for any bit of you he can devour.

it hurts, but you don’t discourage it, instead twining your arms around his neck, fingers pushing into the fluffy tufts curling up at the base of his skull.

“uh, fuck,” he whines, voice grit and gravel, mouth mashed against your own.

his tongue unfurls to lap at your lips, now glazed with a watery crimson, desperate to slurp every last ounce of gloss from your swollen mouth. it flattens against your face, slick muscle laving in hard, repetitive motions back and forth, back and forth, gathering the remnants of make-up and coating his tongue and his teeth in the tacky glitter, tainted with the taste of copper.

those little whimpers and mewls have morphed into grunts and groans, shoved from his throat into yours as his tongue finally enters your mouth, now satisfied with having sucked the first layer of skin from your lips.

it’s all so fucking messy, drool weeping from the corners of your conjoined mouths and leaving sticky streaks across your jaws and chins, edges of your teeth clacking together as your tongues tangle and brush and massage one another, slick and slippery as they push and curl.

his pleasure is hot and heavy on your tongue, little jolts surging through your skin with each sound huffed out in time with the irregular rocking of his hips.

his cock is so hard, straining painfully against his jeans, throbbing as if it’s desperate to burrow through the thick denim to your cunt, but tomura won’t let it get that far—tomura can’t.

because tomura needs to cum now, tomura doesn’t have the time to wait, tomura doesn’t have a goddamn second to waste, fucking into you through layers of fabric, thankful you’re in a skirt, thankful your panties are so fucking slutty, made of lace so thin, so delicate it’s barely a barrier at all.

if he concentrates hard enough, he swears he can feel your hole, empty and yearning, clenching with every stroke of his cock over your clit.

it’s almost enough to make him cum right there.

bony fingers flex on your waist, unsure if they want to stop your movements or speed them up, blunt nails gouging dark, deep crescents into your skin.

you make the decision for him, pace quickening as you grind down on his cock—come on, tomu, come on, tomu—and he mewls again, something high and pitchy and dense in your mouth, hips jerking up in response.

his forehead knocks against your own, hard enough to make you wince, pain searing through your temples. your noses nudge together, clumsy and inept with the haphazard rolling of his hips, steadily accelerating with each rut against you, desperate to match the pace you’ve set, to exceed the pace you’ve set. the fingers tangled at the back of his skull push further into his hair, fingertips pressing into his scalp in lopsided little circles, evoking another low moan as he shoves his head harder against yours, desperate to give you more room to work.

he’s getting close now, hands tightening as they force you to move even faster, thighs tensing as the pressure in his tummy builds higher and higher, heavier and heavier with each of your motions, hips stuttering as they fall out of tempo again, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

“fuck, f-fuck,” the curse fractures in his throat, eyes shut so tight they crinkle at the corners, breath exhaled in harsh tatters out his nose. “i—i’m gonna—”

“do it,” you nearly beg in a stringy whine. “ruin your jeans for me.”

“oh, christ,” he chokes on a sob, another three gyrations of your hips and then he’s obeying, cock pulsing almost violently and filling his pants with hot, thick cum—so much, too much, way too much that it starts oozing through the denim in viscous, ropy dollops to smear across your inner thighs, the coating pretty and pearly glazing over your skin.

leaning back, you look down, spreading your thighs a little further to examine the damage, tensing and tilting the muscles to fawn at the way his cum shimmers in the dim light.

“now who’s the one making a mess?” you tease with a giggle, gazing at him through your lashes, and he rolls his eyes.

“this is nothing,” he’s growling as he hoists you up, one big hand clamped around your elbow, already beginning to drag you along behind him. “i’m gonna show you what a real mess looks like.”

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura smut #shigaraki tomura x you #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you

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landograndprix · 7 months

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「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part vii

✧.* you've finally secured your well deserved p1 after months of suffering with red bull and while you celebrate it the right way, love is in the air and everybody sees it now.

✧.* when i think about my muppets i think about this song, should i make like a playlist of songs that remind me of this fic, give y'all the vibes ive been having? 👀 spelling mistakes add character, don't mind them 🥰 this is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️

✧.* prev part - next part

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, milouberger and 453,789 others

y/nusername I'd like to thank my parents— p1 baby!🏆

tagged: mclaren

view all 742 comments

y/nloveee yes baaaaabbyyyyy 🤩🤩

norrizz one big fat fuck you to red bull!

adam_norris_pure_electric amazing race, amazing driver!🥇

carlandooo oh my gosh, I'm dead, Adam out here supporting his future daughter in law 😭

norry4 stop it 😭

ricky78 bring it home y/n!

natewhite this girls good, she should try racing in f1..

carlossainz55 well deserved! 🔥

chilisainz wish I had a supportive ex boyfriend 💀

y/nlandooo we're so back with our 1-2!

yourmomsuser super proud of you! 🥰

milouberger back where you belong!

hamilt44n girl, shut up..as if you didn't try to push her off the track halfway..🤨

redbullgirl come back please, perez is a joke 😢

landonorris that's my girlfriend 😍

bott_ass we were aware 😂

landonorris you got any plans tonight? wanna celebrate?

landosmclaren HOWLING ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED

maxfewtrell mega race 🙌

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landonorris posted on their story

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cecilemoulin posted to their story

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, riabish and 689,872 others

y/nusername ending an amazing weekend with my favorite lil' guy 🧡

tagged: landonorris

view all 878 comments

norrizz honestly such a power couple!!

sharl16 oh they in love love huh?

bott_ass not the after sex selfie 😭

bananaclerc I was looking for this comment 😭

y/nlando y/n's finally showing more of her and lando on here 🥺

mrsnorris 🤮 get someone your own age 🤮

cecilemoulin I just know y'all were late because you've been watching tiktok's in bed all morning..

y/nusername Cecile thirst trap edits go hard

carlandooo y'all think y/n finally realised she likes this man? Seemed pretty one sided to me for a hot minute 😂

ceciley/n I think Cecile said in an interview that THEY aren't used to dating younger dudes and that she felt out of place for the first few weeks..pretty sure she meant herself and y/n 😉

carlandooo CECILE IS DATING SOMEONE?

ceciley/n yeah..max fewtrell? Girl where have you been? 😂

carlandooo under a fucking rock apparently! Wow, these girls really said young, cute and british? Yes ma'am 🥰 so real of them

ceciley/n a couple of besties dating another couple of besties 😂

hamilt44n where are Carlos and Pierre now? You think they gave up? :')

landonorris favourite lil' muppet 🧡

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @glow-ish

Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @judespoisons @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @jjsprobablywrong @babyvinnie @mishaandthebrits @hockeyboysarehot

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oc #lando norris fanfic #lando norris image #lando norris smau #lando norris au #lando norris #lando x reader

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asmodeus-682 · 3 months

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Hazbin Hotel trio friend group headcanons

The trios shown will have 4 heacanons for each character in the group

The 3 Vees

Valentino Velvette and Vox

1. Valentino sometimes needs help cleaning his room due to his poor eyesight

2. He accidentally ate glue before and had to be rushed to the doctors

3. After seeing the footage of Nifty killing Adam, Valentino became scared of short women

4. Secretly prefers Vox over Velvette

1. Velvette uses a lot of emojis when texting Vox and Val, just to piss them off

2. All her models that work for her are people who are in contract with her

3. Genuinely likes anime but hates manga (she hates it because she hates reading too much)

4. She somewhat sees Vox as an annoying older brother

1. Vox has a shark tail but uses some form of magic to hide it after hitting Val with it one time

2. He doesn't like cartoons all that much

3. Most of the time he'll wake up with Velvette measuring his arms or legs to make him outfits

4. Has attachment issues and is clingy towards the other Vees

Zestial Rosie and Alastor

1. Zestial has a painting of Alastor and Rosie in his home as a sign of theor friendship

2. Prefers tea but will drink coffee if he's stressed out enough

3. Zestial will sometimes drop by at the hotel just to check on Alastor and reports back to Rosie afterwards

4. Rabbits are his favourite animal

1. Rosie has a customised teaset she brings out whenever Zestial and Alastor are over for drinks

2. She bites as a sign of affection

3. Rosie has bitten both Alastor and Zestial, in her opinion they both taste terrible

4. Loves reading horror stories that are bloody and gory before bed

1. Alastor hates tea but will drink it if Risie made it

2. Had to teach Zestial how to work a radio

3. Is a very clingy guy when blackout drunk, he will always cling to Zestial and Rosie

4. Secretly enjoys when Zestial holds him as it reminds him of his mother holding him as a child

Nifty Husk and Angel Dust

1. Nifty collects dead bugs after killing them

2. Has VERY good eyesight and can read very fast

3. It is unsure what really scares her, not even Nifty herself knows

4. She sees Husk as a brother figure in a way

1. Husk sometimes purrs when hugging Angel Dust

2. He has a collection of funky animal skulls in a glass casing

3. Prefers sleeping in Angel's room as the bed is far comfier

4. Sometimes Husk will invite Alastor to drink with him just to see if Alastor will free him while drunk. It always fails

1. Angel adores seeing Fat Nuggets playing chase with KeeKee

2. Sometimes he plays with Husk's wings to fluster him

3. He has an entire diary where he rants about Valentino to get out frustrations, it was a recommendation from Sir Pentious and genuinely helps him

4. Angel will freak out if someone refers to him as Anthony as currently only Val knows that's his real name

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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 19 days

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Having them as best friend's:

Multiple X Reader

Contains: Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Charlie, Lucifer, Vox, Velvette, Rosie, Adam, Lute, and Valentino

ALASTOR

You're gonna have to hear me out with this one: he's down for the gossip 24/7!!!

He will listen and talk shit with you 100% and I'm not arguing on the matter.

Someone says some wack ass shit to you in public? "I beg your fucking pardon?" With like the scariest grin that fucker can muster.

You start talking to someone? He interrogates them! If they're not strong enough to survive one little interrogation with THE Radio Demon, they're not good enough to date you. Sorry not sorry.

The friendship would be violent, but in almost a sibling type relationship. If he said something absolutely out of line, you'd smack him or kick him in the back of his knees. He'd always get payback, whether it was immediately or a few days/weeks later.

You called him a 'radio faced cunt' once in front of everyone and they all mentally started planning your funeral.

Until he clapped back with something equally as interesting.

He only accepted affection from you and Rosie. And Charlie that one time.

If you had a bad day, he'd know immediately by the look on your face and wouldn't let anyone talk to you until he knew exactly what had made one of his two favorite people upset.

He'd kill them if you told him to. Just supportive bestie shit!

Angel Dust

Let's be real, if you're best friends with Angel, you're probably equally as close with Cherri.

But just you and Angel Dust as best friend's? Shit, he's awesome.

Had a bad day? Go to his room and cuddle Fat Nuggets while you cry/rant about the days woes.

Spontaneous sleepovers BECAUSE YOU CAN!

Platonically flirting to the point that everyone thinks you're together. Neither of you deny the claims, just to keep everyone on their toes.

The words 'love you' followed by something like 'slut' or 'bitch' are common occurrences.

When it comes to dating, Angel just wants you to be happy.

But if someone breaks your heart? He'll come out with guns blazing with no hesitation. NO ONE hurts his bestie.

Platonic cuddles because you love his floof.

Would probably form some sort of marriage pact with you for fun one night when you're both wasted. "Yeah, I'd marry you if we're both still single in 100 years, Toots."

Husk

The banter would be unmatched. You call him a furry and he'll clap back with something that makes your jaw drop before you burst out into laughter.

He'd tell you how it is, regardless of whether you asked or not.

Sure, you're his best friend, and he cares about you. . . But it's because he cares about you that he won't sugarcoat something, even if it's not something you wanna hear.

He would listen to your problems, like any good friend.

He wouldn't trust anyone you had romantic interest in, especially since the ones you always went for had some serious issues.

He'd say something like: "Don't cry to me when that bastard breaks your heart."

And you wouldn't cry to him when it happened, but he'd make you a drink and silently take care of the problem once he had one of the other hotel residents hoist you up to your room.

The next morning you'd tell him he was right and he'd smirk as he wiped down the bar, but wouldn't say anything.

He was never good with affection, so he respects your space and you respect his.

He literally always has your back, even if you don't know it. You do.

Charlie

Honestly, you probably grew up together and that's how the two of you became best friends. (But even if you didn't, everything is still the same.)

She's the friend that's too trusting of everyone, so you easily filled the place of being the friend that questioned everyone's intentions.

You even heavily questioned Vaggie's intentions when Charlie insisted on bringing her around after finding her.

You only warmed up to Vaggie when Charlie admitted her feeling for her, to you one late evening. She was a nervous wreck, but you were always the level-headed friend.

Being best friends with the princess of Hell had some lesser known perks — invitations to high class parties, special access at LuLu World, and the most eventful sleepovers known to Hell.

Whenever you mentioned interest in someone, Charlie was the first to push you to go for it.

If it went wrong, she was always there first, telling you it would be completely fine. If it went good, she was the first to congratulate you.

She's 100% the mom friend. Thirsty? Here's something to drink. Cut your finger? "Here's a bandaid, be more careful."

A relationship similar to siblings, bit without any malice or envy. Just happy to be in each other's presence.

She literally documented everything the two of you did, since the very first time you called her your friend. She's not going anywhere.

Lucifer

Yeah, so, everyone thinks you're dating. Even Charlie is a bit suspicious. You're not, but you had been there by his side for as long as he could remember.

When Lilith left, you filled some part of the void, not allowing Lucifer to go hungry when he spent long days in his office.

On his good days, he's absolutely there for all the tea, especially if it's PIPING HOT. "That bitch said WHAT!?"

He has no filter and will unintentionally intentionally hurt someone's feelings when it comes to you.

He protects you as fiercely as he protects Charlie, despite knowing that you're capable of protecting yourself.

The two of you argue like an old married couple, which only fueled the dating rumors. . . Until you mentioned someone you had interest in.

Bro interrogated everyone you ever liked. Can't handle five minutes with the king of Hell? Not good enough for his bestie. Keep it movin' pal.

No one is allowed to call you a bitch, but him. Anyone else tries, they'll be met with absolute SASS.

Not even joking, Lucifer would be so sassy towards people, to the point that you picked it up.

So the two of you just went around unintentionally terrorizing demons!

Vox

You hate someone? Bet. He'll have someone spy on them and give you the real tea.

Brings you as the plus one for many major events, but bullies you the entire time. You thought you'd get five minutes of peace on your best friends arm? WRONG!

Literally throws toddler meltdown style temper tantrums when it comes to Alastor. You're usually the one who has to reboot him or just smack some sense into him.

You're both pretty level-headed most of the time, but one of you probably has a couple of screws loose. (It's definitely him.)

No one is good enough to date you. Not sorry.

If anyone looks at you wrong, they've signed their second death to double Hell.

You and Vox talk shit about everyone, especially if you've had a hard day.

If it was bad enough, he'd offer to kill the demon who dared make your day shit. He'd still listen to you though.

"Fuck that. You're not going alone." And then you have to wait 15 minutes for him to look 'good enough' to go out, even if you were powerful and just wanted to go on little walk down the street.

Body doubling. Different tasks, silence, but the comfort of having someone else in the room. Absolutely.

Velvette

She likes you slightly more than Vox and Valentino, which is fabulous.

Weekly designated sleepover nights where the both of you unload from the week.

Someone is rude to you? Cue Vel lecturing them on how they fucked up and their career is over, but make it musical.

You went on a date with someone and didn't tell her? "I want details, Lovey! Are they an overlord too? Tell. Me. Everything."

Prepare for Hell's greatest gossip sessions, especially around the topic of Hell's cutthroat fashion industry.

She might not seem like it, but she's a good listener.

You're leaving the tower to run a small errand? Surprise Surprise, she's coming with you and turning it into a whole day, complete with lunch and shopping!

She uses you as a model sometimes, purely because she can.

Will call you a sweet name and insult you in the same breath.

Gets worried if you don't text back within five minutes. She will literally show up to make sure you're alive. You're probably taking a nap.

Rosie

Literally the best to spend the day with. She loves walking with you or just having tea.

Much like Alastor, she would be down for the gossip, but she wouldn't go very far with it.

In terms of relationships, she'd want you to be happy, but would also threaten to eat your partner if they hurt you.

She'd be such a good listener when you came to talk about your day.

She'd even offer advice and just casually drop something like: "Listen to your intuition, darling. It'll tell you others intentions."

At some point or another, everyone questions whether you're dating or not, which both of you laugh at frequently.

She enjoys her privacy, but she also would love having you around more than others.

She would love giving platonic affection, just to make you feel loved.

Sometimes Alastor pops up and Rosie gushes about how the two of you would get along — and immediately you're just thinking how this trio would be iconic.

She doesn't care about your past, you don't care that she's a Cannibal. . . Well, she cares, but she would NEVER hold it against you!

Adam

He literally goes out of his way to piss you off.

There's a lot of threatening and him calling you stuff like 'Sugar Tits'.

Adam annoys you to the point of you WANTING to just jump to Hell, but you never do, because he's your best friend, and you wouldn't want to emotionally traumatize him by making him think that he lost his best friend to Lucifer, AFTER losing his wives to him.

He says "Suck my dick, Bitch" AT LEAST A DOZEN TIMES A DAY. It irritates you to no end.

The banter is unmatched. He wants to get sassy? You're the SASS MASTER.

You pushed him down the stairs for fun and he didn't talk to you for two days.

He doesn't give a fuck who you date, but if they hurt you, he's taking care of them and not telling you SHIT to avoid all of that mushy feelings crap.

The two of you argue too much for anyone to think you're together.

There's NEVER a moment of silence when you're out. He's always singing, talking, laughing, or mimicking the sound of some instrument.

Lute

She's annoyed 24/7 and you're one of the two main causes.

But she wouldn't replace you because who else would put up with her attitude and listen to her rants like you?

If you had a hard day, she'd probably make some offhand comment and then subtly try to make it better by like getting you ice cream with rainbow sprinkles or something.

She hates physical touch, so the only time she touches you is to smack you, probably for saying something very Adam-ish. "Say that shit again and it'll be worse."

She hates everyone you have romantic interest in, but let's you learn your own lessons the hard way.

Nobody could ever picture the two of you as friends, let alone dating.

She's like the sister that has it all but claims she's the black sheep of the family.

Her job comes before everything else in her life, that including you, but when she has time for you, there's usually food and shit talking involved.

She makes sure you drink water every day. She'd kick your ass if you passed out because of dehydration.

She'd give you the key to her place, but you'd never use it unless she told you to. (Like in the event she forgot her set or something)

(I've reached the 10 media limit, so just imagine a gif right here)

Valentino

He offers you a job almost weekly. You hold off on kicking his ass every single time because that's your best friend.

Derives great pleasure from pissing you off.

You don't agree with the manner he treats his employees, so you undermine him every chance you get, just to make sure they get the best treatment possible.

It pisses him off to no end, but he let's it go. He wouldn't hurt you. He couldn't, not without a whole bunch of backlash from quite literally everyone.

Whenever you start liking someone, he warns you to be careful because he knows the industry. He is the industry.

He's gossip central. Talks super exaggerated with his hands and his voice changes whenever he remembers another detail.

He's a touchy feller, that much is evident. He's always touching you in some way, but it's not sexual/romantic or violent, it's more reassurance for both of you. It's a safe middle ground.

You have to leave for some reason? "The limo will take you, but don't touch anything."

He throws tantrums on the regular and you've learned to just let them go on until he eventually shuts the fuck up and let's you speak.

He'll call you a slut and then ask if you want to get food. It's extremely clear that you're not dating lmao.

A/N: I hope this is okay! I've never written for a bunch of these characters, as I just stared writing Hazbin stuff last week, and even then, it was a small Vox one-shot and a Lucifer one-shot.

Requests are open, if anyone would wanna request something for one of these characters? I'd pull through to the best of my ability.

Part Two

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #charlie morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin rosie #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lute #valentino hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin hotel imagine

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sugarrushproductions · 3 months

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Hazbin Hotel Finale Spoilers!! You have been fucking warned!!!

Viv you wonderful troll you! I called both Adam and Pentious dying, but I didn't expect to see the latter in heaven and the former meeting his end because of Nifty!

EP 7 doesn't have much I want to talk about, though a quick thing about all the songs. The only one I truly loved was Carmila's the rest were fine and I loved all the callbacks to previous songs.

Dude, the fucking rollercoaster of emotions I felt at the end-

Rosie is great, I still say her and the cannibal's are hellborn until I'm proven otherwise

I'm scared for that deal. I hate IOU deals, Al could ask Charlie for anything.

Vaggie gets her wings back, yeah!

Carmila's shoes being her weapons was amazing!

I think that's it for EP 7.

The bar scene with Huskerdust 😍

I think we saw Husk starting to really fall for him.

Them this whole finale is just so cute, I want more!

Nifty instantly going after Angel after Charlie tells her to stab angels is just perfect.

Nifty and Al, jeez, I didn't expect to be so cute.

The little roach crown 🥺

We were all worried for nothing, Charlie is just emotional.

Also, Chaggie kiss! Now Huskerdust and I'll be set!

The V's are literally just watching them and I feel like some of their reactions

Alastor has been holding back. His fight with Adam is amazing.

And he has a mask... Did not expect that.

Seeing him curse again was amazing.

Charlie is so cute!!!

Angel and Cherri are a power duo!

Husk is so real!

So it seems Adam really did eat the apple.

Vagatha.... I love you Pentious.

"These fucking angels won't stop coming!"

"Ha!"

"Ok, I walked into that one."

That whole exchange is gold.

Lucifer Ex Machina! Yes!

I love his fight with Adam. It's so much fun!

Husk used his wings to shield the others, I'm crying!

Luci, hun, that's not how you say that..

And shut up Val!

Ok, but really, Velvette looks so cute in this.

Fat Nuggets is alive! And Keekee too! Yay!

I was sad about Pentious dying

Then surprised and happy to see him in heaven!

I actually figured he'd been the first to be redeemed. Sorry Angel.

But seriously, suck it Sera!

Speaking of heaven....

How the FUCK did Lilith get there? Why is she there? How the hell could she just abandon her family?

Also, I can't believe they fo

So many fucking questions, Season two needs to come so quickly.

The Hotel looks so cool! I can't wait see it in action.

I know I missed a lot, but God damnit this show is awesome!

#alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel cherri bomb #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel sir pentious #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin hotel season 1 #hazbin hotel adam #chaggie #huskerdust

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the-californicationist · 5 months

Text

Revocation

MDNI/18+

Had a prompt from my darling bestie @gemmahale who asked about the 141 and how they might react when you revoked your consent for whatever reason. So, I thought I would do one of these little stacky-stacks for the first time to try it out. Don't be mean to me! This is my first time doing this Tumblr list thing. Idek what it's called.

GAZ

Gaz loves to fuck you with a slow, steady beat. His go-to is keeping you wedged tightly underneath him in a prone position so his length can enjoy the thickness of your ass and thighs. But, all it takes is a sudden sharp breath from you and he pauses, stopping his long rod right where it sits to wait and listen for your protests. "Babe? Everything alright?" He slowly slides out of you the rest of the way, your plump lips kissing the tip of his cockhead gently as he leaves you. Curling himself beside you, he'd be so soft and sure to check on your body and your feelings before letting you get back up to speed. Gaz would pet a huge hand down your back, rubbing your skin and making certain you knew he was there to help you feel good.

SOAP

Soap was adamant about having a light system. He would lean next to your ear and ask you to check in with him. "How are you, bonnie? Still green?" And if you said green, he would sigh, keeping up his pace, grunting with enthusiastic pleasure. If you said yellow, he would pause and wait, since you usually elaborated, and he would change whatever tune he needed to for you. Slower? He could fuck you achingly slow. Making sure you felt every inch of his delicious upward curve, and that lusciously thick head of his. If you said red, though, he would go full hands off and turn into aftercare mode real quick. Water, towels, juice, blankets at the ready, eager to give you what you needed to feel like yourself again.

GHOST

Ghost never lets it get to yellow. Never. He couldn't. Every single moment he's watching you like a hawk, noticing your pleasure, listening for your moans to deepen or to lower just enough to tell him you're close to coming. If you move into a position you don't like, he can feel your tension ripple across his cock, and he fixes it immediately, knowing when your breathing quickens or slows how far along you are to riding another wave of pleasure. You're so reactive, and he loves it. He gets off on knowing just the slightest pressure will send you over the edge. And when you come, it is like a maestro at the crest of his symphony, every note in exactly the place where he wants it, feeling you flutter and pulse around him in a perfect little harmony.

Except for that one time when there was a moth. Then, he was immediately on moth duty, full stop and fully naked. But, he was more than happy to cuddle with you after it was safely dispatched.

PRICE

The thing about Price is that he never fuckin' shuts up. The whole time he's kissing you, licking you, biting you. He's talking to you. The whole damn time.

"Yeah, love? You like that?"

"Want more, yeah? Fuck yeah, I'll give you more."

"Tha's it, love. Tha's my good girl. Come for me, just like that. Make those noises, love."

"You alright, love? Need a moment? Let me hold you. C'mere."

"Fuck, you are feeling so good. So pretty. Tell me how I feel, baby. Go on, tell me."

And so the whole time he fucks you, you are gasping in breaths, telling Price everything he wants to know. He wants to know how it feels, how it sounds, if its warm, if its hard, if you can feel the way he throbs inside of you when he comes. He wants every single juicy detail, and he pulls it from you with his hungry coaxing.

So, when you got a leg cramp, he talked you through it, pulling his fat cock from you with a long, wet pop, helping you get into a better position before he applied pressure to the spot, working out your muscle, easing your pain, talking you through the whole thing...

"Tha's it, good girl. Such a good fuckin' girl. Doin' so good for me..."

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty headcanons #captain john price #john soap mactavish #ghost simon riley #kyle gaz garrick #fic prompt #stacky stack

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tigertales9 · 10 months

Text

Ice Ice Baby

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: You and Joe attend a 4th of July party at his parent's house

A/N: I wrote 90% of this porny nugget yesterday after having a few too many adult beverages 🥳

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

July 4, 2023 - Athens, Ohio

You step out onto the back patio and fill two cups with ice before closing the cooler. You pour raspberry lemonade in the cups and hand one to Joe's mom. "We're getting a little low on ice," you say, taking a swig of the tangy beverage while she makes a concerned face. "Crap," she mutters, taking a sip of her drink while she watches the guys play catch in the backyard. "I knew we should've stocked up a bit more, but Jimmy thought we had enough."

"I'll go get a few more bags," you offer, waving Joe over to ask for his key fob. You hand him your glass of lemonade when he jogs up, watching his prominent Adam's apple bob as he guzzles the cold beverage. "We need more ice," you state. "I'm gonna run to the store real quick."

"I'll drive you." He finishes off the drink before handing the empty cup to his mom. 'We'll be back in about twenty minutes," he says, grabbing your hand and heading through the house to the front door.

"Don't trust me to drive the Porsche?" you tease, sliding into the passenger seat when he opens the door for you. He holds his tongue until he slides into the driver's seat. "You're a better driver than me," he smiles, leaning over to give you a quick kiss before fastening his seatbelt. "I was just looking for a reason to get you alone," he continues, giving you a wink before reversing out of the driveway.

Ten minutes later he pulls into the nearest convenience store, leaving the car running as he hops out. "Be right back," he says, striding into the store like a man on a mission. He exits just a few minutes later carrying three large bags of ice in one hand, his biceps bulging in a way that causes you to squirm in your seat. You watch him in the side mirror as he pops the trunk and stows the ice inside. "Sexy motherfucker," you mutter to yourself, giving him an innocent smile as he hops back in the car. "All set," he grins, quickly reversing out of the parking space and heading for the exit.

Just as he pulls back onto the highway a few fat raindrops hit the windshield. "What the hell?" he grumbles. "We only have like a 10% chance of rain today."

You grab your phone out of your purse as the rain intensifies, pulling up your fav weather app. "Damn," you whisper, watching the ominous red blob inch ever closer on the radar screen. "Looks kinda bad." You notice there's a 'severe weather warning' and quickly click it. "Oh shit," you mutter. "What is it?" Joe asks. "This storm is creating up to golf ball size hail. It's gonna be right on top of us in just a few minutes."

"Fuck," he grumbles, whipping a u-turn and heading back in the opposite direction. He floors it and you're pressed back in your seat for several seconds before he slows up a bit and exits the highway, quickly pulling into a covered carwash stall. He turns off the windshield wipers and gives you a grin, smiling even bigger when the first pings of hail hit the metal roof of the carwash. "Just in time," he gloats.

"Good job, babe," you praise while turning your attention back to your phone, your eyebrows creeping upward when he places a big hand on your thigh.

"Have I told you how gorgeous you look in this sundress?" he murmurs, sliding his hand up your skirt until it's dangerously close to your crotch.

"Yeah a couple times, but I don't mind hearing it again." You give him a smile before glancing at your phone, shaking your head as you watch the storm develop on the time-lapse radar sequence. "This huge thing just popped up out of nowhere," you marvel.

"Speaking of huge things popping up," he purrs, giving you a loaded look when you cut your eyes at him.

"This is a fast moving storm, Joseph. It'll be done in like fifteen minutes."

"And we'll be done in like ten if you hop on my lap," he counters, patting his thick thighs with one hand while teasing the edge of your panties with the other.

"Are you serious?" you ask, a shiver of anticipation flowing through you at the feral look in his eyes. "What if somebody sees us?"

"I doubt if folks are out walking around in a thunderstorm with golf ball size hail raining down."

As if on cue, the sound of the hail hitting the metal roof of the carwash intensifies, creating a cacophony so loud you can barely hear yourself think. "Come here," he urges, smiling when you drop your phone in your purse, kick your sandals off and hike your dress up, smoothly crawling over the center console before straddling his lap.

He cups a big hand behind your neck and pulls you in for a kiss; his tongue tastes like raspberry lemonade and he moans deep in his throat when you give it a thorough suck. "You taste good," you whisper, repeating the action while grinding your crotch against him, his impressive erection easily discernible through his slinky shorts.

You eventually rise up onto your knees. "Push your shorts and undies down," you order, waiting until he does your bidding before lowering yourself back down, moaning when you feel his hard length through your flimsy panties. He slides a hand down to tease your clit through the wisp of lace, his mouth on your sensitive neck gently licking and sucking in a way that causes a gush of liquid heat between your thighs.

"So good," you murmur, your breath catching in your throat when he slides two fingers inside your drenched panties, playing with you for several minutes in a way that makes your toes curl before pulling your thong to the side to expose your wet slit. "Yeah," you urge, digging your fingers into his broad shoulders while he drags the tip of his cock through your slick folds before pushing inside, both of you groaning as you slowly impale yourself on his throbbing erection.

"Fuck, baby," he hisses when he's fully seated, his eyes sliding closed in pleasure as you start to move -- slowly at first -- moving just a few inches up and down before getting in the groove. He plants his feet against the floorboard and thrusts his hips up as you grind down; an electric sizzle races up your spine when he bottoms out, the pleasure/pain combo causing you to cry out as your core clenches his thick length.

"You okay?" he mutters in your ear, his big hands on your ass slowing your downward progress as you try to grind down against him again. "Yeah," you whimper, "don't stop!" He slides one hand down between your plump buttcheeks, teasing the edge of your fully-stretched pussy as you take him deep over and over, your breathless whimpers segueing into louder moans as he uses his other hand on your clit.

"Oh my God," you whine, reaching up to grip the headrest for leverage as you grind down against him, his hot breath whispering delicious filth in your ear causing every nerve ending in your body to throb in unison. You dig your fingers into the padded black leather as you feel a coil of pleasure building in your core, whimpers spilling from your lips as he works your body in all the ways he knows you love. "Oh…my....…God," you repeat, your cries of pleasure drowning out the storm as your climax hits; he continues to thrust up inside you as you ride out the intense orgasm, finally coating your core with hot spurts as he follows you over the edge.

You pant hard against his fragrant neck, your head spinning a bit as the aftershocks of your climax continue to fire, squeezing his slowly-softening erection as he presses kisses on your flushed cheek.

"Thank God we ran out of ice," he croaks, both of you laughing as you try to catch your breath.

"I think the storm's passed," you eventually mutter, leaning back to give him a smile just as his phone rings.

"That'll be Mom," he snorts, grabbing his phone and checking the display. "Yep," he confirms, answering the call and putting her on speaker. "Hey Mom, we're fine."

"Oh thank goodness!" she says. "That storm came out of nowhere!"

"Sure did," Joe agrees. "We rode the storm out in a covered carwash stall. Y/n saw the storm developing on radar, and I was able to pull in just before the hail hit."

"That's great! Y'all be careful driving home. There might be some tree limbs down in the roads."

"Okay. We'll be there in about fifteen minutes." He ends the call just as you give a lusty chuckle. "What's so funny?" he asks.

"We rode the storm out?" you purr, bouncing on his lap. "Freudian slip?"

"Maybe," he shrugs, giving you a cocky smile and squeezing your ass before helping you crawl back into the passenger seat.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine

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sleepingdeath-light · 3 months

Text

affectionate male s/o hcs ; angel dust

requested by ; 💍 anon (14/02/24)

fandom(s) ; hazbin hotel

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; angel dust

outline ; “hey, I just saw an update from your blog and was wondering if I could make a request ?!

Angel dust With a male reader boyfriend who is always by his side, and the two of them are always lovey dovey.

You and I definitely know the trauma that Angel Dust has experienced all this time, and I want Angel Dust to be able to share his trauma with his boyfriend so it's not just him.

Thanks in advance 🫂

💍-anon”

note ; this might be a bit shaky in terms of his characterisation because i haven’t written for angel dust in a while, but hopefully it isn’t too noticeable

warning(s) ; references to angel’s canon traumas, but mostly fluff!

you are, to put it bluntly, the only real bright spot in the dark spiral of pain, abuse, and addiction that has defined the vast majority of angel’s life in hell — and that makes him all the more intensely protective over you

he never breathes so much as a word of your relationship around val or his colleagues and refuses to let you go anywhere near the areas of hell dominated by the vees — and up until a few weeks before the battle with adam, he refused to meet up with you at the hotel and would insist on meeting at another neutral location because he was just so damn scared of you two being seen together and somebody (be that his boss, some weird stalker fan, or someone else) deciding to use you to further hurt him

(or even just to hurt you for the sake of it — you are in hell, after all, and the people he’s associated with over the decades aren’t exactly the nicest lot)

all of that being said, when the two of you are together and around the small group of people that angel trusts, he’s more than happy to show off his ‘cute’ little boyfriend and smother you in as much affection as you give him (and even more when he’s in the mood for it)

he’s forever touching you when you’re together: holding one of your hands in his own, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you against his side, hugging you from behind and resting his head atop yours when you’re talking to someone, nuzzling his face against your cheek or the crook of your neck, playing with your fur/fluff/hair/wings/tail when you’re sat side by side at the bar, interlocking elbows when you’re walking together, kissing you on the cheek/nose/temple whenever he feels like it, laying down with his face buried in your chest/stomach after a long day (or letting you bury your face in his fluff if you’ve had a rough go of it), and even just outright picking you up and carrying you around whenever he’s bored and wants to go hangout in his room with just you and fat nuggets

and, of course, there are a few acts that you can do that never fail to make his day that bit brighter — namely running your hands through his hair when he’s laying on your lap/stomach/chest, and reaching out to grab one of his hands and stroke reassuring circles onto the back of it whenever he seems nervous for whatever reason

(really any genuine display of innocent affection makes his heart melt, but it’s those two that have the best chance of making his performative mask drop and having a real smile slip through onto his face)

truly the list of affectionate displays, both public and private, is endless and angel dust can’t get enough — you’re the one that introduced him to this whole ‘innocent touching between boyfriends’ thing, sure, but around nine times out of ten he’s the one that initiates it because he just can’t help but want to be close to you all of the time

he gets incredibly pouty and jealous whenever you show affection to other people, even though he’s fully aware that that’s just who you are and it doesn’t mean anything to you — this can be very easily remedied by spoiling him with love, affection, and gifts when you realise what’s happened, but in the moment in can get a tad awkward because of how over the top flirtatious and possessive angel’s language and behaviour gets (like by the time you’ve caught on and dragged him away to talk it over, the other party is left with less than no doubt about the fact that you’re very happily taken and your boyfriend does not like to share)

having someone waiting for him to get home, the promise of affection without expectation and an evening of proper actual aftercare, is what keeps him from spiralling as badly as he used to — you give him that extra bit of motivation that he needs to stay on the straight and narrow (or as close as he can given his contract) and not fall back on those bad habits again

because he doesn’t need to ruin himself or drown his emotions in sex and drink and drugs or any of the other shit he used to do when he has you — because he wants to be someone you’re proud of, that you’re proud to be with, and that you can rely on for comfort and support as much as he can rely on you for those things

he wants to be the best person he can be for you and, in the process, he starts to believe more and more in the whole ‘hazbin hotel’ project that charlie started

you and cherry are the only ones that really get to see the real angel dust on a consistent basis — and you’re the only one who gets to know, and address him by, his real name when you’re alone because he trusts you so much and because it feels much more intimate and ‘real’ to be called that by his boyfriend rather than the stage name that everyone knows him by

because the two of you are basically attached at the hip when you’re together, angel ends up missing you very intensely when you’re apart for whatever reason — this means that he’s texting you whenever he gets a spare moment to do so throughout the day (he gets very good at hiding his phone at the studio as a result of this habit because, no matter how much he may try, he just can’t resist sending you a quick text or selfie between shoots)

he and cherry are out at the bar having some fun? he’s texting you between shots telling you about how much you’d love this place and how you should totally go there for your next date

charlie and vaggie are being all lovey-dovey in the hotel lobey? he’s sending you a picture with a super cheesy caption about how that should be you but since you were too busy you’re gonna have to miss out

he’s been given a super cute outfit to wear for a movie or his makeup looks especially good? he’s texting you a selfie in his changing room and making a million excuses to his boss just so he can see the compliment you send him before he has to lock and hide away his phone so he can go back to the shoot

you had to leave early and he has the day off? he’s sending you a sad selfie of him and fat nuggets talking about how much they both miss you and insisting you hurry up and either finish your errands quickly or skive off of work to come back to bed

and the list goes on… he’s really clingy but you can’t say you mind given your affectionate inclination

#sleepingdeath #male reader #fluff #fluff hcs #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #angel dust x reader #angel dust fluff #💍 anon

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pinkmirth · 1 year

Note

Bertholdt being shy about how big his dick is has me kicking my feet n twirling my hair <33

He would 100% roll his hips against yours when you’re making out with him n then get shy when you’re surprised because you can feel how big n heavy his cock is sjfjakcnkand

𝒢ℰ𝒩𝒯ℒℰ 𝒢ℐ𝒜𝒩𝒯 . . !

𝓈𝓎𝓃ℴ𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: based on this post! a teensy-tiny drabble for bertl! my sweet big boy 💘

𝒸ℴ𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈: (700+ words of . . .) aged up!bertholdt hoover x fem!reader (black coded), nsfw/smut, bertl has a mega size kink, handjob, oral (m!receiving), penetrative sex, mention of bertl’s big bawls, lowercase intended, explicit language, minors shoo!

omfg sandie!!! now this is everything to me! there’s nothin’ like a giant man who can’t truly grasp just how large he is.

bertholdt is well aware of his height— since his earliest memories he’s towered over others, standing head and shoulder above them. but when it comes to size-size? bertl doesn’t fully register how big he is. this bashful man don’t got a clue in the world!

your reaction to bertl discarding his underwear is what gets him to finally understand. to you, he already looked fairly large when wearing his boxers, but witnessing the real thing proves to be a stark difference. you unashamedly observe your boyfriend’s fat dick as it throbs lewdly, free of any confines. he can feel your keen eyes fixate on him.

“you’re fuckin’ huge.” you release the airiest whisper.

to that, bertholdt’s breath catches in his throat, adam’s apple bobbing. he gets self-conscious, even more so than usual. a stream of questions swirl about in his head. is he too big? will you be able to handle him? are there even condoms in his size?

his worries quickly dissipate once you begin to wrap your dainty fingers around his cock. you stroke whatever you can manage to reach, touching down his shaft and twirling your hand over the precum-smeared tip. you gaze at his endowment with lust-blown eyes, seemingly appreciative of what he has to offer.

“how big are you, baby?” he doesn’t know. hell, he’s never cared to check or measure before now. your assumption is nine whole inches, maybe ten.

“i— fuck,” he lets a foul whine slip past, bringing a hand to cover his mouth. he shyly speaks through his slender fingers, “i-i’m not sure...” with a stammer, bertholdt instinctively rolls his hips, bucking against your hand. his pale-green eyes stay trained on how you can barely close your fingers around the base of his girthy dick. in that very moment, within the depths of his mind, he can practically hear a switch flicking— that’s the size kink he never knew he had, officially turning on.

following that experience, bertholdt’s shyness considering his length doesn’t get any better. he’s easily flustered, but also more self-aware than he’s ever been. bertl starts to notice how wide your plush lips stretch around his cockhead when taking him into your wet, pliant mouth. he finds it amusing; how you can’t mutter a word when he fills up your throat, weighty and pulsing against your tongue.

he admittedly likes to give himself a rush during sex, by sizing you up— placing his rigid cock onto your tummy, just to make an estimate of how far he’ll reach. before long, he brushes past your folds and pushes into your velvety cunt. you clamp down fervidly, eager to take all of him.

he’s settled in your womb. you’re so fucking full. “it’s big,” you brainlessly mewl. bertl interlocks his fingers with yours, cheeks dusted red. he makes slow, impassioned thrusts forward, swiveling his hips to plunge into you just right.

“is it too much, love?” bertholdt’s words spill out shakily, wavering breaths dropping from his agape mouth. dark shaggy bangs fall across his forehead. you thread your hand through his hair to help him brush it back. faint traces of sweat trail down his forehead. “uh-uh. it’s perfect, baby,” you reassure with a soothing smile, pressing your lips to his. he returns the haphazard kisses, immodestly groaning into your mouth.

you’re always given generously thick loads when he finishes, because his balls are fat and heavy, too. bertholdt is slowly, but surely, learning how to use his imposing size for your benefit.

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restwellsoon · 7 days

Text

Afterhours

Minors and ageless blogs do not interact (liking/reblogging) or follow! You will be blocked!

Pairing: Jason Todd x F!Reader

Summary: The Red Hood decides to confront you after work regarding a curious rumor you started as an informant.

/ “You know what I do to bad guys, but what I do to bad girls is even worse.”

Warnings: dubcon, crime lord!Jason Todd/ Red Hood, degradation and humiliation, toys, daddy kink, being called princess, mention of drugs (for the plot)

Scrubbing at your arms to get some kind of warmth, you huffed impatiently. The informant was late. Sure, it was understandable why the Bat would want all contact to be verbal; both of you–well, mainly you–would go down if you were caught. Everyone knew what Cobblepot was capable of. The shorter list of convictions compared to other Gotham criminals didn’t mean that he was less capable, and working for the corporate and legal end of his business meant that you were privy to the real reasons behind the sudden company reorgs.

You shivered before deciding to pace around your office. It wasn’t like the informant to be late. Were they caught? Were you busted? Maybe you should just go home. You spent too many hours working overtime anyway.

The goosebumps weren’t going away. The office A/C that you cherished in the sticky and humid summers of Jersey was now a frigid hell. You weren’t sure of who was punishing you–the Batman or the Penguin.

With the creak of your door, you snapped, “About fuckin’–”

The last word fell into the nylon carpet as you stared into the glowing eyes of the Red Hood. The door slammed shut, and he left it unlocked. It didn’t matter. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get past him anyway. Instead, you froze in front of your desk.

“Yeah, let’s talk about getting fucked.” The robotic drawl of your full name in perfect pronunciation made you grimace as he stepped towards you. Any thoughts of him walking into the wrong office and getting the wrong person were gone. “That was pretty ballsy of you to drop my name in your conversations with the Bat.”

You couldn’t even deny his accusation. You thought you were being clever, that maybe you could do some of that double-crossing shit that the vigilantes and villains played so easily. It seemed easy because you were an amateur; maybe you were fucking up this entire time. All you remembered were the extra zeros in your bank account as you played Batman and your boss.

“Mr. Cobblepot has an image to maintain,” you told the informant–Spanky? Or was it Matches? Either way the name was ridiculous–“so he wouldn’t intentionally let this new drug hit his clubs.”

The latest street drug in Gotham had a similar chemical compound to drugs like buprenorphine and chlordiazepoxide. They eased the symptoms of withdrawal, making a more tolerable and safer transition into sobriety.

“So you’re saying that sobering up his clients isn’t in his best interest?” His mustache twitched, and you wondered if it was glued on or real.

“Exactly. His regular clients would seek out other dealers to get the high they’re used to. They don’t go to the Iceberg Lounge for the atmosphere. They go because it’s one of the safer options to get snowed. Who knows what sort of diabolical shit is mixed into the Black Mask’s supply?”

His mustache wiggled as he hummed. “Well, if it isn’t the Penguin, who else would put this on the streets?”

The informant paid close attention to your words as you paused to give him a new lead.

“Well, if you're looking for the name of a cartel or gang, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. I don’t know much about its manufacturing or distribution. I work in communications, so…”

Crossing your arms, you blew some air as you tried to think of a name to distract the Bat and keep your wallet fat. “The only crime lord that would benefit from this is the Red Hood, don’t you think?”

Ever since he first showed up on the scene, he’d been adamant about cleaning up the underbelly of Gotham. His strict rules against selling to kids made the areas he controlled safer. Commissioning this drug and letting it hit the Gotham market was a way to help addiction-addled neighborhoods rebuild.

His expression was unreadable behind his dark glasses. The only way you knew that he was satisfied with your answer was when you heard your bank app ding with the agreement that you’d meet again in two weeks.

At the time, you thought that mentioning the Red Hood was ingenious. Compared to other criminals, the Red Hood seemed to be less vicious towards women. Since his rise to power, there hadn’t been any reports or news about him or his henchmen attacking them. If the informant wanted you to name drop someone, you were going to choose someone who would maybe spare your life. Yet seeing him up close gave you some doubt.

You swallowed your nervousness as you edged to the desk. Your hands blindly reached for something that could do some damage, but alas, your laptop was packed away and your pens were in their drawer.

“Look,” he sighed, “if you’re gonna play dirty, you gotta make sure your opponent can’t find dirt on you.” It was a roundabout way of calling you a dumbass.

You half turned to watch him circle round your desk, kneeling to dial in the combo to your locked drawer. Stupidly, you got closer when you heard the click that told you he opened it successfully. Using your birthday backwards as the combo was enough to deter nosy co-workers but clearly wasn’t not secure enough to deter a crime lord with a vendetta. If you made it out alive, you promised yourself that you’d change all of your passwords to something with stronger security–you’d even make sure that you didn’t repeat them on several accounts.

“Jesus,” the Red Hood laughed through his modulator, “you got the rechargeable one too? I’m not sure if Cobblefield ain’t paying you shit, batteries are expensive, you’re environmentally-conscious,, or it’s some combination of the above.”

The sight of a cross-armed Red Hood with your rabbit vibe in his hands was something you’d never imagine in your wildest dreams.

“Your little toy isn’t the only thing I found out about you.”

Oh god, what else did he find? Your face felt hot from embarrassment.

“Did you know that the sites you go on and the things you search can still be tracked by an establishment’s WiFi network log?”

He was grinning beneath the mask, you just knew it. Bastard.

“Yeah, even if you use your phone on private browsing… Crazy, right?”

All you could muster was a choked ‘yeah’ as you tried to recall everything you looked up in the past week. It was highly likely that the Red Hood looked back at least a month. Now what did you search for that wasn’t related to work?

You didn’t have to recall. He listed it out for you in a painfully slow and enunciated manner.

“Red Hood shirtless, Red Hood legs spread, Red Hood dick size, mask or helmet kink, intro to BDSM, what is a service top… And this was just within the past two weeks, goddamn.” He shook his head in judgment. “Should I continue?”

Fuck.

You couldn’t show fear to these types of people, you learned early on in your career. That’s what they got off on.

“What’s wrong with a woman having a healthy sexual appetite?” You asked defensively. “You some kind of prude or what?” That seemed to get a genuine laugh out of him.

“See, here’s the thing,” he told you, helping himself to your luxury office chair, leaning back as his boots settled on the desk. “Everyone thinks that I’m a bad guy, that I just blindly use violence to punish even badder guys. ‘There aren’t any brains under that hood! He’s just some beefy bastard with a fat cock! An idiot! A dunce!’” If he was speaking in some high-pitched mocking tone, his modulator didn’t catch it. It stayed in that robotic monotone.

Jason paused for a second to see if you’d agree, forgetting that a normal reaction was to be scared shitless and mute. When you didn’t make an indication of anything, those combat boots of his hit the carpet with a thud, chair screeching and lurching forward to see your face. Your toy laid forgotten on the desk.

Audibly you swallowed as you looked at him–well, not really him but the mask that he wore, the bright white of his eyes a stark contrast to the cherry red of his helmet. It was the mystery of what he looked like beneath it that drove your imagination wild. What color were his eyes? His hair? How full were his lips? Did he have scars?

As if knowing that you wanted a better angle, he tilted your chin to comply with your unspoken wish. It wasn’t as if it changed anything; you still knew nothing of his looks, but the cool leather of his glove made you more aware of how starved you were of any kind of touch. That healthy sexual appetite you claimed to have suddenly turned into hunger pangs.

“There was a lot of thought put into this plan, sweetheart,” the Red Hood chided.

His glove left your face to press on some hidden panel close to his jaw. There was a soft click that loosened his helmet.

Then you heard him–somewhat muffled and low and incredibly human.

“See, I’m giving you a pretty sick deal. You get to live out one of your fantasies in exchange for recanting your statement to the Bat. Even if I have nothing to hide, I hate whenever the old man comes sniffing around. Don’t worry. I’ll even promise my protection too in the event of retaliation–from him or Cobblepot. Do we have a deal or not?”

Your voice came out breathier than you realized. “And if I say no?”

He made a show of taking off his helmet, and to your surprise, a red domino mask covered his eyes. Tousling his dark curls, he pursed those perfect lips, “Well, shit. When I was searching through those logs, I figured that you’d be so horny for me that refusing wouldn’t even cross your mind.”

It was starting to make sense why Cobblepot was always irritated after dealing with the Red Hood. You laughed. “Look Hood, the quips were cute at first, but they’re getting old fast. You’re so full of yourself. Now tell me what happens if I refuse.”

“One, if you say yes, you could be full of me too.” You imagined that if he took the domino off that he’d punctuate that sentence with a wink. “And two…”

You could hear the smile in his voice along with something devious. When did he get so close? He was slotted between your legs as you sat on the edge of your desk. The cool feel of his gloves pulled your arms back and held your wrists there, leaving you captive to whatever he had to say.

“You know what I do to bad guys, but what I do to bad girls is even worse.”

“Oh yeah?” you breathed out. Fine, you’d admit it. That was fucking hot. “Then show me.”

“Show you what?”

His thigh nudged your center, pushing your dress skirt up with the motion.

“What you do to bad girls,” you said through gritted teeth. His hold on your wrists kept your upper body in place.

“Say it for me first.”

But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t use your leg to drag him closer. You hooked one leg behind him. Now you could feel his length against you though he wouldn’t budge otherwise.

“Please.”

Nothing.

“Daddy, please.”

“You can be obedient when you want to be, huh? Fuckin’ brat.” Jason found amusement in your frustration. “Sorry, but those aren’t the right words. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, we have a fuckin’ deal.”

Finally that thick thigh was back to putting sweet pressure on your clit, the Red Hood’s slight movements providing teasing friction that kept you slick.

“Atta girl, princess. ‘Fraid I gotta shut you up for a few though. I know your performance reviews say that you’re well-spoken, but they made no mention of you being so damn chatty.”

Before you could talk about the irony of his comment, Jason let your wrists go and stepped back, using his free hands to unzip his pants and pull out his cock and balls. Your mouth hung open at the sight.

Giving it a stroke upwards, his balls followed the movement. Jason smeared his precum over the shaft, giving it a nice shine before ordering you to lay flat on your desk with your head hanging from the edge. His sack looked heavy and full.

“So this is what you meant–”

“Less talking, more sucking,” he grunted, taking the opportunity to shove the tip into your mouth.

The girth was unexpected as your jaw stretched to accommodate his size. You gave it a suck before relaxing your throat to take more of him. Jason eased into you slowly, watching as you swallowed as many inches as you could before pulling out and smearing his spit-laden cock across your mouth. You jerked him while gently sucking on his nuts, thinking about the reward you’d get if you could edge him long enough. The thought of him filling you up with a big, hot load made your center ache.

So focused on your thoughts, you hardly noticed that Jason replaced himself with your toy, watching as your drool frothed and dribbled down your chin while you gagged.

“Be patient with me, princess,” he murmured as he leaned across your body, vibe in hand, to push your panties aside, cock pressing against your cheek. You tried to move your head to take his length but the Red Hood’s weight made it difficult to do so.

Jason wasted no time shoving the entirety of the toy inside you, making you gasp. If you wanted him as desperately as he thought, then he had to prep you well so you could take him.

“Patience,” he lightly scolded you. “Damn, if I knew you were this needy for Daddy’s cock, I would have come earlier so the fun could last longer.” He placed himself back in your throat.

Slow deep breaths through your nose, you reminded yourself. It was difficult though when he was facefucking you in sync with your toy. There was little room for your moans and sighs to escape.

He most definitely understood your muffled ‘FUCK’ when he turned on the toy though, both shaft and rabbit ears vibrating. Your knuckles were white from desperately clutching at whatever you could; you needed something to keep you grounded from the assault on your clit, toy shaped perfectly to hit your G-spot.

The vibe kept making you moan, making your throat squeeze in ways that would make Jason cum early. “That’s it for now,” he said to deaf ears, pulling out to focus on playing with your pussy. He repositioned himself so one hand controlled the toy and the other held you down.

“Is this all you got?” You taunted, sweat catching the neon lights from the window. Your hair was disheveled and stuck to your forehead. Your legs quivered. You looked pathetic.

The Red Hood laughed, and you weren’t sure of what you wanted more of–that mocking robotic modulator or the rich tones of his real voice.

“The way your lips are wrapped around that toy tells me that’s more than enough. If you want this,” his cock was still perfectly hard and this angle highlighted the thick veins that lined his shaft, “then we need to take our time. Luckily for you, I have the patience of a saint.”

“Well, I don’t. Sit down, so I can fuck you.”

He was used to more demure requests to ride him, so your brazen words lit something inside Jason. Fuck it, he thought. He was still annoyed at you mentioning his name to Bruce. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he watched you struggle to take him.

The toy came out with a yank, your pussy aching. The emptiness was only temporary though. There was something more filling, waiting for it.

Seeing that slight look of surprise on his mouth was worth it as you pushed him onto the chair, spitting on his cock before straddling him. Your panties were lost in some dark corner along with your bra. Your disheveled office wear struggled to maintain your modesty with loose buttons and crumpled fabric.

“Mmfph–fuck!”

Your nails dug into the Red Hood’s shoulders as you tried to find your pace. You had about halfway more to go.

“Told ya,” he said smugly, reaching beneath your dress to squeeze your ass. He buried his face in your tits, sucking on whatever flesh he could. You gasped when he finally reached your nipple, his tender suction making you shiver.

“Big motherfucker,” you grumbled, bouncing up and down on what you could with his help.

“Damn, you feel good,” Jason sighed.

Lately he’d been so focused on the complicated aspects of his line of work; it seemed like he could never just chill and do something for himself. Isn’t that what all the experts say? That self-care was important?

So when one of his informants told him that Bruce and his band of bat brats were poking around his turf, Jason’s first thought was to dispose of whoever Bruce paid off. When the informant said that the rat was the Iceberg Lounge’s hot publicist, he considered his first reaction too harsh, that perhaps it’d be best if he investigated this personally. Oh, he was so fucking glad that he did.

With each bounce, he pushed you lower on his length, and he’d go by half-inches if it meant reaching heaven. Fucking you with the toy first was a brilliant idea. Even though you didn’t say it, he knew you came. That’s why you were struggling on his cock. That cute little cunt of yours was still spasming from your first orgasm. How could anyone be so tight and wet, he thought, and for him.

He sat back and watched as you kept riding him with frustration. Your sweet pussy nectar was pooling at the base, and the lewd sounds it made was music to his ears. But the sound of his balls slapping your cheeks would be even nicer.

“Good effort, princess, but you’re starting to look pathetic and needy and desperate. What?” He laughed, swiping his thumb along your pout. “It’s cute. Daddy’ll take care of you.”

He hoisted you off him with ease, giving you another reason to make your pussy throb. A part of you wanted to ask him to fuck you while standing or maybe against the wall. No! A small rational voice told you. Let’s see what he does first.

Laying you on the ground, he pushed your legs back with your ankles on his shoulders, exposing your cunt to cool air. It was slick and puffy from all the work you put in. Taking two fingers, Jason spread your lips so he could tease your clit. Each little movement made you twitch.

Perfect, he thought. He knew how to get you where he wanted. The feeling of his thick, heavy tip rubbing your most sensitive spot made your toes curl as you huffed and moaned at his touch. Your hips pressed up in a weak attempt to slip it in. Your heels were nearly dangling off your feet from the movement.

“Since you want this cock so badly, I’ll give it to you, princess, but we’re doing it my way.”

Eagerly, you nodded. Your way, his way. It didn’t matter as long as he was in you.

Yet quickly you found out that you shouldn’t have agreed so readily. He moved impossibly slow.

“It’s a shame,” he tried to make small talk, one gloved hand carefully keeping the distance between you and his cock while the other balanced his weight above you, “that you chose to work for Cobblepot. How bout you work for me instead? Name your salary–I’ll double it. As a bonus, we can even fuck whenever you want.”

“You act as if I need your cock.”

Ignoring your tone, Jason stated the obvious. You did. Your body practically melted in the carpet when he went completely in.

“Look how full you are. You think you can go back to your toys or another man’s cock after this? I ruined you, princess.” Instead of sounding remorseful, he was proud. “I bet in the days after, you’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout how empty you feel without me.”

You didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of being right–his cock felt so good once you got through that first bit of discomfort–but there was no point in being stubborn. The Red Hood didn’t intend on having you hear him out. He was going to show you.

He fucked you as roughly as you imagined, using long strokes that left both of you breathless. There was something erotic about the sudden silence. There was only heavy breathing and moans, slick sounds and pounding.

And when you came, it was like the lights cut out, eyes squeezed shut for total darkness. The only electricity existed in his touch, sparking waves of pleasure throughout your body.

–

Uncertain if you actually dozed off or not, you woke up to a familiar mechanic hum. He had his helmet back on, his clothes back to their baseline level of grunge. Perhaps it was because of the intimacy you shared, but the Red Hood seemed far less threatening now compared to the start of the night.

“Don’t forget about the deal we made,” he told you, standing near your feet.

Like him, going back to how you normally were was easy now that lust no longer clouded your actions.

“And what if I don’t?” you asked, standing slowly from sore muscles. “Like you said earlier, I am a bad girl.”

“I’ve already planned for that.”

You tried to fix your dress to the best of your abilities. It was no use though. It was a poor victim of your decisions.

“Well, if that’s the case, expect another visit.”

You stalled, letting the fabric fall as you tried to decipher his meaning behind the modulator. Was that a threat or a promise?

“And next time, I’m coming during office hours.”

You let the warm sensation of his cum sliding down your thighs decide for you.

Return to

Curated Masterlists

Jason Todd’s Masterlist

#jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #rest writes

116 notes · View notes

hall0ween-twn · 8 months

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came here for chenle thots but u lured me in with alphas renjun and jisung.......

alphas rensung trying to protect their sweet little omega from any harm and perverted alphas so they lay their claim on you. marking you up real well to make sure no one other than them dares to even look at you. if anyone dares they wont hesitate to fuck you infront of them, showing them how dumb you get for only them.

renjun being the mean condesending alpha whereas jisung is the soft impatient alpha who just wants to have his cock in you whenever he can :(

when jisung first gets his rut, renjun is very adamant about forcing him to go slow with you. jisung's just so big, his cock would split you in half and that's all you want but this is the one time where renjun's such a sweet alpha, doesn't want his baby to get hurt.

renjun behind jisung's back and guiding his hips slowly into you, jisung getting more and more impatient, lost in how warm and tight and wet you are. he wants nothing more than to fuck you full of his cum, letting his knot plug it up so nothing drips out. and he'll get to do just that too, gotta make sure your pussy can handle his size. renjun's hands look so small against the expanse of jisung's body. and your pussy? oh it looks so pretty all stretched around jisung's fat cock.

the moment renjun lets jisung properly fuck you, switch goes off in jisung's head. so impatient to breed your tight, wet hole. so impatient to feel you cum all around his cock. so impatient to breed you. so impatient to knot you. and renjun will have his time with you too, but he doesn't mind watching you get fucked senseless. his cock keeps spilling precum from his tip, the scene in front of him better than he ever imagined it would be.

#[twn] hard thoughts #[twn] ask #[bestie] jenoslutie #renjun smut #nct jisung smut #park jisung smut #jisung smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #kpop smut

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foreficfandom · 3 months

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POV: You Are Actually MUCH More Powerful Than Alastor (ch. 3 - "Taking Notes")

(Alastor x Reader, g/n, queerplatonic/sex and romance favorable, fan theories, God!Reader) (AO3)

As far as the wider population of hell was concerned, Alastor disappeared after the Extermination with his tail between his legs. Vox made sure his viewers didn’t forget it, showing the footage of Alastor’s prone body no less than eight times over the course of four days. By the time the hotel was newly renovated, the Radio Demon being back in hiding was old news.

Hell’s populace was cynical and jaded. They took the news in stride, aware that as far as anyone knew, Alastor was right around the corner, seconds away from a new murderous streak. But danger was always right around the corner. Distinctions between dangers mattered less if the outcomes were always a guarantee.

Alastor didn’t plan on laying low for long. The angelic energy still festering in his chest prompted great pain whenever he used his dark magic. It took several days for it to completely dissipate, and it left scars that occasionally twinged with phantom jolts. Akin to nerve damage after burns.

He didn’t let you see the wound in full. You had offered to speed up its healing, but he would rather defenestrate himself than show you his bare chest. However, he was quickly allowing himself more casual dress within your private presence, a remainder of typical ‘30’s societal norms. If a gentleman made a friend, he could remove his hat, gloves, and jacket. If it was a close friend or family, he could be shirtless if needed, when out of the public eye.

Like when you and he made plans to further plot in his room, and you had arrived to Alastor in his pants, shoes, a belt, and a white sleeveless undershirt - what would be called a tank top. He was using a flat iron, freshly heated from his fireplace, carefully pulling and pushing it upon a dampened shirt spread tightly across an ironing board. You could now appreciate his limber, bare arms and collarbone, which were lightly haired with a gradient coat, colored more darkly further towards his hands. He had only the slightest muscle bulk, mostly in his forearms, and only due to a deficit of body fat to cushion it.

“Couldn’t you just magic your wardrobe clean and pressed?” You teased, closing the door.

“Of course I could, my dear. But nothing beats a job done by your own hand!”

Cleverly spoken. After all, Alastor’s magic weren’t extensions of his own will, but of his jailers. You approached the opposite side of the ironing board, the slight steam of sizzling water reminiscent of a little sauna.

“So, Alastor. I’m sure you’ve agonized over every fine detail of your deal. You should know that there’s limited chance your creditor would see any more advantages to take.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Alastor said, continuing his ironing, “so I’m going to take this opportunity to play kitten. Let’s pretend that plonk Adam managed to lodge a real stinker into me, and despite my best efforts, it’s hindered my abilities pathetically! I couldn’t shatter a stemware if I tried!”

He placed his hand on his chest as if a fainting damsel, the hot iron held aloft. You noticed with amusement that his elk-down has replaced his armpit hair, leaving it smooth like a child’s.

“And so Alastor would take drastic measures to be powerful once more? Anybody lucky enough to know you would certainly expect the Radio Demon’d be desperate to get his arsenal back.”

“Precisely! I will swallow my pride and put on a great show. Soon enough, it’ll get their attention.”

You took a second to ponder. “Beings like them believe their indentured souls are largely grateful for their gifts, and not chomping at the bit to reverse it all. They’re arrogant like that. After all, you certainly owe a lot to their influence.”

Alastor looked like he was about to refute your words with his bitter resentment, but considered a second further and went back to his chores.

“Well, I suppose they haven’t been all cruel. As a mortal man, I knew I was protected by forces unseen. I believe I am still being protected.”

“In more ways than one. Do you have any clue how many illnesses you dodged while eating your victims? They even debated on whether to let the listeria permanently damage your large intestinal tract. They settled on just the temporary infection.”

“What’s listeria?”

“A bacterial parasite. Causes loose stool, vomiting, and fever, and can resolve itself after a couple of weeks. First discovered in the late 1920’s, but wouldn’t be in everyone’s medical books until World War II. You got it from the back-alley surgeon.”

“Is that what that was? I was throwing back Ostrex for days. I swear I had never been more ill.” Alastor shifted his shirt so that he could iron the left sleeve. The fabric sizzled anew. “Well, aside from when I watched Way Down East to see what the fuss was about. That wretched Porter Strong gives me strong retches, all right!” He cackled alongside a canned studio laugh track.

“How shall we advertise your weak state? You wouldn’t want to roam Hell’s streets like you used to.”

“That’s where I’m hoping you can come in. You, with your millennia of experience.” He gave you a sly eye, smiling as ever but you could see the pointed daggers.

You crossed your arms with an exhale. “Actually, I do have some ideas. Simply put, we fake a new competitor of yours, and let them run far more rampant than you’d normally allow.”

You knew men like Alastor. If he could allow it, the spotlight would never leave him.

Stimulating the opposite would be a tell-tale sign that the Radio Demon was indisposed.

Alastor narrowed his eyes, as if reading your mind. “And who would this new competitor be?”

“Me, of course. Like you’d trust anybody else to be in on it.”

Every Overlord was once an unassuming sinner soul. It would be an on-going process, but with careful pretense you could convincingly step into the shoes of Overlord.

Your avenue would have to be something that threatened Alastor’s specific audience, not just another jumpstart with a seat at the table. Dread Vox would be a good comparison. You’d just take a leaf from his book and aim for the media masses.

And as a content creator, you wouldn’t have to bother with physical territory, which decreased the risk of encountering physical confrontations. You didn’t want to play-act some street scuffle with an Alastor forcing himself to feign weakness. He probably couldn’t bring himself to play act meek in-person. It would be hard enough to have him remain out of the public eye - or rather, public ears.

“The longer I go uncontested by you, the more suspicious it’ll seem. Before long, your creditor will get the hint.”

Alastor gave a “Hmm” of consideration, finishing up his ironing. His smile was small, but unpained.

After a minute of silence, spent watching Alastor hang his laundry in careful sets and whisk away the ironing set with a snap of his fingers, he turned to you, lips curled ever upwards.

“Very well. We will cultivate the rise of a new Overlord. Together.”

—

The next day was a slow, but relaxing affair for the hotel. After finishing your administration duties, you enjoyed catching up with Niffty on gossip, before lounging in the parlor with Angel Dust, who had been carefully pampering himself since morning. He was fresh out of his perfumed bath, fur conditioned and silky, and asked for your help in applying a fresh manicure. An endeavor made harder considering that he had eight hands.

The television screen popped and sizzled as Alastor entered from the hall, apparently deciding to pay the two of you a visit.

“Aww damn it, Kelsey was just about to reveal her deep, dark secret,” Angel Dust whined. The television’s audio finally stabilized and revealed the cast utterly distraught over whatever the step-daughter had confessed to. “Could you maybe cool your anti-TV thing if you’re gonna crash my soap time?”

“Why, it’s hardly something I can control.” Alastor threw his hands and eyes upwards in disregard.

“You know, back in Alastor’s day, entire families sat to listen to the radio just like we do with television,” you smiled demurely at the two of them.

“Yeah, well, ‘back in his day,’” Angel mocked your tone, “they also brewed poisonous moonshine in toilets, ate banged-up cans of brown windsor soup every other day, and probably had more cases of TB than kids to die from it. I died in nineteen-fucking-forty, I know the low-down. Hell, I think nonna remembered the actual Civil War.”

Unlike Alastor, Angel Dust was a sinner who found little trouble adjusting to modern technology. Many of the sinner souls who died young embraced things like internet and electric cars, whether they died during the 20th century, or the 17th.

Cultures of the living found their way downstairs with little delay. Nobody was sure why, but some suspected it was because all technological progress can be considered sinful. You knew it was because earth and hell - and heaven, and purgatory, and all sapient souls - existed as one simultaneously. If Segways existed both physically and within mortal awareness, then so shall it be in hell. Certainly, Segways would not escape the mortal consciousness without great effort.

“Well, back in your day, housewives could only earn money in Tupperware pyramid schemes, children didn’t learn about evolution in school, and everyone was obsessed with Spam,” you teased.

You had told everyone you died mere years ago. True, there was a tangible generational gap between you, Angel Dust, and Alastor, all of you could feel it, but in your case it was much more … complicated.

Angel took your needling in stride. “Eh, at least we had toothpaste. I heard that Great Depression suckers only bothered with charcoal dust, like, once a week.”

At that, you smirked at Alastor, who you’ve teased about his unfortunately-yellow maw more than once. It would have been normal for his time, and the fact that he’d only ever had to pull two would actually be considered impressive.

But you were a being that greatly valued hygiene. Something to do with your heightened senses picking up on every stray molecule that builds on the body, but you privately joked that it was because ‘cleanliness is next to godliness’.

“Now, now, my dainty friend,” An approaching Alastor made a point to mimic Angel’s delicately elevated fingers, reminiscent of a wilting flower, “the future may look greener on the other side, but sometimes, olden days were the golden days. Why heck, one could claim that not much has progressed at all! Look out the window there, and tell me you don’t see the same rampant crime and barbarity, no matter the perpetrators from my century, or not! In fact,” Angel pulled a face as Alastor entered one of his long-winded rambles, always intending to (and unfortunately usually succeeding) in dominating the room, “I declare that mankind’s one constant has been its depravity. Always the same distasteful impulses.”

“And mankind’s moralities are never constant?” you offered.

“Oh please,” Angel said simultaneously as Alastor’s “Goodness, no!”

“Back when I was a kid, people thought left-handedness wasn’t Jesus-fearing. People sure don’t think so, now,” Angel continued.

“And whatever’s casting humans to hell evolves just as its victims do. When’s the last time you saw some pitiful gilly drop down here solely for premarital relations? ‘Twas the case just some fifty years ago.”

Angel snorted. “Yeah, if abstinence awarded you points, I’m waaaay off the mark. And, well, it don’t seem like it for certain, but for all I know, it’s still in heaven’s rulebook.”

“Hah, if only that was the case,” you threw a none-too-subtle look towards Alastor, who returned with a slow, absolutely withering glare.

Of course, Angel Dust noticed. “Whoa, Alastor man, you died a virgin? But you were probably, like, forty.”

“Oh hardly,” Alastor sardonically hissed through his teeth. You didn’t point out that he died a mere two years from the mark, not something you’d call ‘hardly’.

“Well, hey, if your abstinence wasn’t enough to get you upstairs, then that’d be free reign to let wild down here, wouldn’t it?” Angel Dust smiled. “You probably had lotsa old-timey fans when you first arrived. Wouldn’t be a shock if you have lotsa admirers today, too. Pick up a dame from the speakeasy for a nightcap over at your place? Or let some knockout daddy plow you in the bathroom?”

A vein popped in Alastor’s temple. You ducked over Angel’s half-painted hand to hide a grin. If it were anyone else, you would have felt sympathy for the teasing. But, in your opinion, any little blow to Alastor’s inflated ego was always warranted whenever one managed to get their hands on them.

“Can’t say I’ve ever bothered with any of … that , I’m afraid.”

Angel Dust looked incredulously at Alastor. “Never? Even in hell? Never done the vertical tango? The hankity-spankity?”

“Not every man is as covetous as you, my fellow.” Alastor leaned on his cane with both hands, his posture as rim-rod stiff as a telephone pole. You watched his torment in amusement.

“Huh. Goes to show you never know what’s goin’ on underneath it all,” Angel Dust nonchalantly concluded with a thump back onto the cushions. He returned to his bottle of varnish.

“I expect you to be prompt for supper this time!” Alastor exited the foyer but called over his shoulder. “I won’t be taking a still-wet manicure as an excuse again!”

He didn’t pause in his application. “Yeah, sheesh. Like what’s he gonna do? Send me to bed without food?”

You finished applying on Angel’s third hand, and moved to the fourth. “You want to make the rules, then you’ll have to be in charge of the cooking for once.”

“Not gonna happen! Don’t think I’ve stepped in front of a stove since I was a kid. Well, aside from the prop ones in a movie or two. Frilly apron and everything. Why’s he always the chef, anyways? Not like Charlie’s ever made a Thanksgiving turkey for us.”

“Ask him, not me.” Alastor didn’t make meals every day, so if the hotel’s residents didn’t expect a meal from him, then you were all due to fend for yourselves that evening. Most, like Vaggie and Husk, visited the cheap eateries in the neighborhood. Some defaulted to leftovers, or frozen pre-packaged meals (Niffty was especially fond of those). You and Charlie didn’t have to eat every day, though you kept up the facade of mortality. For the longest time, you were the only one brave enough to eat the leftovers from Alastor’s midnight stress-cooking.

“You know, I could see Charlie trying to cook for us, her poor suffering lambs.” Angel was finishing up the delicate white strips on each nail tip, done in one or two practiced strokes. You intentionally numbed your proficiency and took much longer to draw a passable line. “But she’s a princess, so maybe she has no idea how to cook anything. Probably for the best she hasn’t tried, then.”

A moment of silence, then Angel piped up once more. “Speaking o’ Charlie, she apparently got some hot letter in the mail this morning, and’s rushed out the door. Haven’t seen her since.”

“Oh? Have any idea why?”

“No idea. I was at the bar with a hair of the dog, and heard Charlie make a big fuss before rushin’ out. Took the letter with her. Sounded important, but couldn’t tell if it was a happy important, or a nasty important.”

You gave a ‘hmm’. “And what about the king? Have you seen him around?”

“Nope. Guy’s been gone since yesterday evening, but that’s nothing unusual these past days, is it? You ask me, something’s brewin’ with the bigwigs up top. The royals, I mean.”

The Goetia Royalty. A long-winded line of hell-borne beings, some of them older than hell itself. For the most part, they kept out of the public eye, intent on living their privileged life with as little interruptions as possible.

“I hope that Charlie doesn’t get handed more trouble,” you said. “She’s busy enough as it is.”

Angel just shrugged. “Hey, she wanted to start this whole redemption project to begin with. She can deal with it.” You knew he meant it as a compliment. “I mean, I don’t envy her pressure. More and more shit’s been pilin’ on her shoulders these months. And she’s not gonna be unloading any of the responsibilities if she can help it, that wouldn’t match up with her vision, would it? Princess Of Hell, finally doin’ something productive for a change. Prob’ for the best, since lightening her load’ll probably do in the spine of whatever sucker volunteers. All pressure’s heavy at the best of times.”

You sighed in sympathy. “Tell me about it. You never expect to be the cause of a black hole.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Did you get any hints where Charlie went off to?”

“No. If she’s not back until supper, Alastor’ll probably throw a fit. He loves her fawning whenever she sits down to his cooking.”

You made a mental note to text Vaggie if Charlie doesn’t make it back before sundown. Whatever trouble was brewing, it would likely affect your and Alastor’s plans. You couldn’t risk too many interlacing threads getting tangled.

—

“You could always start a ‘podcast’ series. I detest them less than most modern medias. I may even give yours a listen!”

“Podcasts may be a successful culture, but I fear it wouldn’t be aggressive enough,” you said to Alastor, both of you sat across one of the small tables dotting the hotel study, an open notebook and pen in front of you. “It’s gotta be something people obsess over. Something that earns a lot of money and eats up a lot of time. Something unrepentantly mainstream.”

“Oh, with your charisma, I’m sure you could be a trailblazer in making any media a mainstream mainstay,” Alastor alliterated. He took a sip from his mug of lightly-brewed coffee, more akin to a tea, to avoid over-exciting himself this late in the afternoon.

You sighed tired, crossing out ‘popstar’ and ‘idol musical group’. Too short-lived to make a successful Overlord career out of it. Alastor’s flattery had a ring of truth, you could theoretically manipulate any field you’d end up in, but you didn’t want to make this any harder than it needed to be.

He had finished up the last touches on his pulled pork recipe before leaving it to stew in the kitchen, and tracked you down out of curiosity. It was just the two of you in the study for now, but you kept one eye open in case someone else decided to pay a visit.

You hovered your pen over ‘celebrity surgeon’, just about to ask if Alastor could turn down the volume of the big band he was blaring obnoxiously, before you sensed two pairs of footsteps approach. The two of you turned to Husk and Vaggie strolling in.

“Oh joy, you’re here,” Husk groused sarcastically. It had not gone unnoticed that Alastor had spent the last few days wandering around the hotel more often than he usually did, rather than couching himself in the secluded corners.

“Now, is that any way to greet your friends?” With a crank, Alastor snapped his head to an unnatural 30°. Vaggie, who had grown a modicum more tolerant of the guy, didn’t take the opportunity to needle him, and proceeded to guide Husk to a specific bookshelf in the far corner. She traced her finger along the spines, then pulled out a small hardcover and held it out for Husk.

“Here. From Kuomintang To Kraft Mac: A Brief Timeline Of Events From 1950 - 1970 ”, Vaggie said, handing the book over. “We’re missing the next volume, but Charlie can order it.”

“It’s fine. Thanks.” Husk opened and browsed the first few pages. You could see Leviathan's symbol printed on the opening cover. One of the official hell-produced encyclopedias that detailed living events for the sake of its sinner residents.

Alastor didn’t hesitate to milk the opportunity. “Why, Husker, my good man! Are you feeling a scholarly bent? I wasn’t aware you knew which end to open a book from!”

“We were talking about hot sauces,” Vaggie allowed herself a small grin at Husk’ dramatic eyeroll. “I know you like using the tabasco pepper-based ones, but Husk was just telling me that he missed the sweeter, pulpy pastes from his time spent across the sea. I said that the world has slowly come around to spices from all over the world.”

“Back in my day, you were lucky to find a dusty bottle of Trappey’s at the mart. I’m surprised America embraced hot spice at all,” Husk added. He spared a glance at the rest of the encyclopedia collection, which boasted a recollection from prehistoric civilization to the rise of the internet. Some of the volumes were depressingly wrinkled and worn, and more than one was absent.

Alastor didn’t respond, instead rested his chin on the back of his hands, smiling peacefully at the space over Husk’s shoulder. You knew he was thinking of his mortal days, too, when most people made their own bottled sauces from a summer pepper harvest, acidifying mashed jalapeño and cayenne in vinegar and salt, sealing the repurposed cola bottle with cork and wax. It wasn’t until the ‘50’s when hot pepper sauces started appearing in most American recipe books, and it would take a further 30 years before international cuisines reached proper globalization.

It was nice to see Vaggie and Husk getting along. And perhaps the both of them were learning to tolerate Alastor a bit more.

Still, both of them eyed Alastor with a distasteful eye, which didn’t phase him in the slightest. Husk, in particular, would rather he spend as little time around the man as possible. Before Alastor forced him to work for the hotel, Husk almost never had contact with the man. You were sure he missed those days dearly.

The same sentiment wasn’t quite shared by Alastor, who didn’t hold Husk in high regard, but enjoyed his company well enough. And he’ll put up with Vaggie’s ire to a surprisingly high degree.

“Vaggie, do you know where Charlie is? I heard she left this morning, and it’s almost dinnertime,” you asked.

Vaggie’s expression turned slightly pensive, and she averted her eyes. “She’s … meeting with old friends. It’s complicated.”

“Royalty issues?” Husk asked.

“Sorta like that. She should be back soon,” Vaggie assured, but you didn’t miss the subtle glance she threw towards her phone, sitting in her skirt pocket.

“What kind of friends keep a busy woman for so long? It must be important ,” Alastor said, emphasizing the last word with an oily grin. Vaggie shot him a warning glance. She had far from forgotten the deal he had convinced Charlie to make.

“Like I said, it’s a royalty issue. Those types of friends aren’t ones you can risk losing. Aren’t you an Overlord? You should relate to the whole, ‘high-society’ sort of thing.”

“Oh, Vaggie dear,” Alastor flapped a hand dismissively, “I haven’t bothered with the ins-and-outs of hell’s Overlord dog-eat-dog kerfuffle in years! You see new faces come and go like the wind. I may enjoy the company of a select few that share a spot at the table, but not for power. For their conversation! For their fun! For keeping up with me on the dance floor, hah!”

“Like Overlord Rosie?” You asked, and he affirmed, “Precisely!”

“You know,” Husk was still scanning over the encyclopedia, speaking to the air as if on an aside, “I heard from a certain little spider that you’re still as lady-less as freshly fallen snow.”

Vaggie raised an eyebrow as Alastor’s smile turned downwards. “And your point?”

“Just sayin’. You got all your lady friends, what’s stopping you?” Husk met Alastor’s unamused glare with a little smirk.

“Well, it just so happens that my friends tend to be women. They bring the best out in me!”

It didn’t take a genius to understand Alastor’s personal preferences in friends. The lively and prevaricative Niffty, the gregarious and wayward Mimzy, the cordial and extroverted Rosie. This was in comparison to those that annoy him; the prickly Vaggie. The invasive Angel Dust. Charlie, herself, must have drawn Alastor’s affections by virtue of simply being jovial. He loved to see smiles and loved to hear them sing.

Not being a man would also score a couple points in the ‘friends’ column. And speak of the devil, Alastor piped up; “And men? Brutes, much of them, graceless.”

Vaggie pointed out that he was a man, which apparently was the expected set-up for his prepared joke, “I need no reminder! After all, I find myself shouldering the burden of being proper gentlemanly to compensate for those who aren’t! Ah, the days when men at least did things like start a conversation with a proper greeting, and ended with a proper ‘goodbye’. I do miss when evocation was a schooling curriculum. Husk! Recite!” He pointed his cane at Husk, who gave a long suffering groan.

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Exactly! Did your teacher ever have you recite The Lady of Shallot , or at least See Spot Run ? Come, old fellow, give me hope that the art of spoken word hasn’t been completely lost.”

To your surprise, Husk rose to the bait with, “Tôi đéo quan tâm.”

It was a clever blow. Alastor was skilled, but he knew no second language fluently. His Louisiana Creole was dreadful. His pride taken a blow, Alastor’s grin twitched, but he pulled himself back together with a twirl of his cane.

“Ah, like a dock sailor. Impressively worldly. But as brutish as an ox.”

The chatter went on, but you focused on your notes. Alastor was exaggerating, plenty of modern people knew public speaking, especially the entertainers. Any television figure worth their salt made sure their audience could follow along not just with clarity, but with enjoyment. News anchors, game show hosts, social media vloggers, podcast narrators, video game streamers -

Streamers . Scheduled broadcasts of live commentary. Responding to the audience in real time. Recorded in a set location. Commonly arranged by genre content. Earning thousands of dollars every year. Even sponsorships were comparably as invasive as a bugle for Edgeworth Cigarettes from during the golden age of radio.

You wrote with vigor. Streaming would require an expensive set-up if you wanted to cultivate the proper attention. Studio lights, audio recording, multiple high-definition cameras and mounts, a backdrop, not to mention the software.

Your spacious hotel quarters would do, once you got proper acoustic foam wall panels. And luckily, Alastor’s presence in the hotel made for a very powerful modem, to his annoyance. The internet speed here is wild.

Would you focus on video games? Viral challenges? Conspiracy theories and social drama? Offer adult content? The most successful streamers usually have one main focus, although the more famous one got, the more they could branch without risking alienating their audience.

And once you establish your place within the internet world, you’d start to ask for more and more money from your adoring fans. Some wouldn’t be able to pay. So you’d offer a deal , instead. Plenty of people have committed to worse for the sake of their idols.

To become one of the top Overlords, you’d have to total a soul count in the five-hundreds, at the very least. Owning actual real estate would also help -shareholding a business or two, or maybe you’d develop a brand from the bottom up.

To grow from niche interest to mainstream name, you’ll make and distribute products. You’ll cultivate entertaining drama with other media personalities with the intent of going viral. You’d be on friendly terms with Alastor’s enemies, and make vague threats towards his friends.

Alastor turned from the others to see what you were so excited about. He couldn’t quite read your handwriting upside down, but he could tell that you had hit a revelation.

“Ah, but poor Charlie! I hope her ‘friends’ at least have the good manners to serve dinner, because she certainly won’t be arriving on time for ours! Come now, my good people, to the dining room! Husk, bring out the Austrian Riesling, it’ll pair nicely with the pork.”

“Why are we drinking good wine with barbecue?” you heard him grumble as Alastor managed to usher him and Vaggie out. You finished your notes with a flourish, stuffed your notebook away, and jogged after them.

#alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel headcanon #alastor headcanons

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scekrex · 2 months

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Hello💕💕💕💕 me again I just really love your story's and I would like to be known has '💕💕'<3 another request 💕hurt/fluff 💕

💕Adopted child male reader x parent Adam, were reader died from his father and went to heaven but doesn't have a place to stay of course his like 2 and Sera does not know to do with him so she just give him to Adam and told him to just keep him for a while to find someone willing to take care of y/n.💕

💕While Adam first saw y/n he just take cared for the kid and kept on saying how the kid was soo annoying, after a few months he started to actually started to get attached with y/n but then Sera asked Adam for the y/n back because she found a orphanage that will like to take care of y/n and maybe find a real family but Adam quickly refused saying that he would like to keep y/n so Sera was alright.💕

💕So after a few 10 years y/n and Adam became inseparable! Going to their favorite bands and y/n knowing how to play the electric guitar and even the drums. This year y/n wants to go and see his dad killing those sinners but Adam isn't too sure on letting his son but he let him because he kept on begging him to come so he allowed it just this once and to try stay close to Lute ( Lute is kinda like a babysitter for Y/n ).💕

💕Y/n was rooting for his father while he was fighting with Lucifer ( more like Lucifer fighting with Adam) until when Adam fell on the floor while Lucifer was punching Adam, then Charlie said that Adam had enough before y/n could run to his father and tell him if they could go home now the little red demon girl stabbed his father, y/n quickly ran towards his father grabbing the girl out of his father, crying fat tears and keep on saying "please don't go, dad" ( or whatever you want)💕

You can write the ending I am too lazy 🙃

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Okay so I've never written child reader before so I hope it matches your expectations! xoxo/p

Born to Lose

pairing: dad!Adam & child!male!reader (platonic)

warnings: language, canon typical violence, major character death

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

The woman in the pretty white dress with the beautiful looking wings handed you over to that man with golden wings and long horns attached to his head, he looked a little grumpy.

“Why me though?” the first man asked, clearly displeased with the situation that had been forced onto him. What was he supposed to do with a two year old? Sure, he did have children back in the garden but… that was ages ago. He also had Eve back then, to help him raise them. How he was alone with nothing but you in his arms.

Sera was serious about this. A situation like that rarely happened and usually there had always been angels willing to take the child in, but not this time. Not when you had arrived in heaven. Your hands clumsily reached up to one of Adam's horns, you wrapped your small palm around it and giggled happily. Adam sighed. “I wish there would be a better, more permanent solution, it would be the best for the both of you, but sadly there isn't. It's either you taking him in or him ending up homeless.” Sera's words hung in the air for a moment before Adam sighed again, “Okay yeah, I'm taking him in. But fucking hurry up to find a family for that little shithead.” “Language,” Sera warned the first man who simply rolled his eyes at her before he flipped her off and left the building.

So he had to take care of a motherfucking two year old now. Fucking great, thanks for absolutely fucking nothing, god.

You were loud, most children your age were. Well, in Adam's defense, he didn't sign up to adopt a two year old. So he was allowed to complain about you. You needed constant attention, always silently begging to be lifted up into his arms by making grabby hands at him and considering that it was the only way Adam was able to get you to shut the fuck up, he carried you around more than he liked to.

You were a clingy, loud, annoying, stinky little brat and yet you made him soften up. Because carrying you around often resulted in the two of you playing. Adam would lift you up in the air, careful not to drop you of course, while you pretend to be flying - which one day you would be. He also complained about your nightly wake up sessions, how annoying and exhausting it was for him to get up at least five times a night to feed you, change your diapers, or simply give you whatever else it was you were craving.

Yet he loved you dearly and wouldn't give you up for anything.

He had already completely forgotten about what Sera had promised him. That she would find a permanent solution for your problem. To him, this was the permanent solution and he was more than fine with it. So when Sera had ordered him into her office and he had stepped inside with you sleeping in his arms, he was quite surprised to see other angels there too. “Who the fuck is that?” Adam asked as he steadied your little head that was resting on his shoulder. “Those are the people willing to take Y/N in, Adam,” the seraphim explained calmly to the first man, who turned his body away from the strangers in order to protect you. His wings were spread, working as a shield. “No fucking way, he's not leaving me now. I took care of this little fucker for the past six months, he's not going to live with somebody else now.” He pressed your little body a bit closer, yet he remained careful, the brunette had no intention in waking you up. And you remained asleep.

Sera folded her hands as she turned towards the angels that were there to pick you up, “As you can see, I'm very sorry to announce that Y/N will stay with Adam. He seems quite attached to the child and the young boy is visibly feeling comfortable around him. Therefore we don't need your service any longer.” And as soon as Sera had finished her little apology, Adam left the building. There was no need to stick around longer and possibly wake you up.

The years passed and before Adam knew it your twelfth birthday was in the past. Ten years had it been since the first man had been given the task to watch you, raise you. And he did. Once you had learned how to walk and fly, there was nothing that could possibly stop you in any form or way. Talking was also a skill you learned quite quickly, eager to repeat whatever Adam said. At first the first man had thought of it as annoying but he had quickly started to like that little habit of yours. It disappeared as you grew older though.

With six Adam had started to teach you how to play the electric guitar, music had always been a big thing in his parenting methods. He was a guitarist and singer, in God's holy name, of course he would raise you with music. So it had only been a matter of time until he took you to your first ever concert.

The drummer of Adam's band had insisted on teaching you how to play them after you had curiously asked him how he managed to stay so focused on it while also looking ‘badass’.

So. You were twelve, that was fucking old if someone were to ask you. Old enough to join Adam on extermination day. That had been a thing ever since he had adopted you, probably even before. But your father had always told you that you were too young. This year however, you weren't going to back down so easily.

“C’mon dad, you've taught me how to fight, I can defend myself okay? I'm not some whiney, helpless bitch like the other angels up here,” you begged your father.

Ah yes, the language. Your vocabulary was definitely heavily inspired by Adam. A thing Sera disliked, but had stopped commenting on. She still hoped you'd grow into it and learn how to articulate yourself properly.

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance as he furrowed his brows, “Jesus, okay, okay, fuck, yeah fine.” He had given in. He had officially allowed you to fight by his side during the extermination. “But you're not leaving my side and if you do, only in company with Lute.” That was something you could agree on. Lute was the most badass bitch you've ever met after all.

So extermination day rolled around quicker than Adam had liked it too, if he were to make the decisions, he'd skip it simply because that would mean you'd be safe, instead of being surrounded by demon fuck-ups. But he had already agreed, there was no taking it back now.

Adam was slammed into the ground, neither you nor Lute were in sight as it happened. Lucifer only showed mercy once his daughter reminded him. Adam crawled out of the crater, blood dripping from his face, his body was in pure pain.

You saw him, you also saw the little demon girl that was sneaking up behind him. But things went down way too quick. The little girl pulled out a dagger and stabbed Adam with it. Your father fell face first onto the ground. Pain shot through your body, not physically but emotionally. “Dad,” you screamed as you flew over to his body, the little girl sat proudly on his back. You grabbed her by her throat, your hand was wrapped around it tightly, strategically cutting off her air supply as you ripped the dagger from her tiny hands and lifted it, the tip pointing to her eye. And then you stabbed her.

As you pulled the dagger out, her eye popped out of its socket and blood covered your hands. You stabbed her again, this time in her chest. And again. And again.

The body in your hands went limp and you threw her away carelessly. “Dad, stay with me,” you dropped to your knees next to his head, pulling him onto your lab, “C’mon dad I wanna go home.” Tears started to well up in your eyes as Adam opened his eyes to look at you. His usually bright eyes seemed so lifeless, so dead. Tears streamed down your reddened cheeks and hit his face. “Don’t go dad, don't fucking leave me,” the brunette simply shot you a weak smile of thankfulness. Thankfulness that he didn't have to die alone, that you were there.

it was Lute who came up behind you to rest her hand on your shoulder. “Y/N,” she spoke so softly yet her voice sounded hurt, “He’s gone,” she stated as Adam's eyes fell shut. “No,“ you screamed as you pulled away from her touch and pressed your father's dead body against your chest, “He’s not- he's Adam, he can't-”

In the background Charlie, surprised, asked, “Adam had a son?” Lucifer nodded, “Well, he isn't one of the kids I know, he must either be heaven born or adopted, but Adam sure is a father.” Something tore in Charlie at the sight.

“Dad- Adam,” you hiccuped as Lute grabbed Adam's halo. “Y/N, we have to go,” but you shook your head violently, “I’m not leaving without my fucking father, don't even try it.” The lieutenant sighed heavily before agreeing to take him with you, to take him back to heaven.

You got up from the ground, straightened your back and spread your wings proudly as you and Lute picked up Adam and carried him to the portal the leader of the exorcists had opened only a couple of hours ago.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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