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#HE LOOKS SCARY STARING AT MY SOUL
cardi-c · 1 year
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eye contact for @tempestghoulette
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charliesgoodboy · 6 months
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the convo me and that girl had you idiot 💀
OH
no i’m too stressed in editing this mf tom kaulitz🧍🏾
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amisunderstoodgoddess · 7 months
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The Hunt
(final part here)
Rating: Explicit +18
Summary: When the creature you fear so much manages to escape containment, will he show you any mercy or take you without any regret?
Author's note: I intend to make this story with just two chapters. This is the first, the second will soon be available. Hope you like it!
English is not my first language.
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'ALERT: Specimen 375-6 is out of containment.
It's not training. All search and capture units were activated.
ALERT: Specimen 375-6 out of containment.'
You swallow hard as you read the warning message on your phone, the words falling over your body like a truck of bricks.
He had escaped.
The creature you knew and didn't know.
It was yet another top-secret government item, another non-human biological material captured and kept for research.
He stands out from the others, of course.
With his height, intimidating physique, and obvious intelligence, but you never actually approached his cell, only catching brief glimpses from afar as you did your job collecting and saving data from the scientists' research in the system.
But you always felt something strange in the rare moments you needed to approach the cell block he was in.
He kept to the back, using the shadows to stay hidden. And yet there was one thing that caught your attention, regardless of how dark the place was.
His eyes.
Two orange spheres, standing out like beacons in the night.
He remained basically the same every time you entered that part of the building. Sitting on the floor with his legs half bent and his wrists firmly restrained by chains resting on his knees, you couldn't make out the color of his scaly skin or his features in general, but the color of those eyes shone like neon lights in the darkness of the cell.
He looked at you, every time.
It was disturbingly intense. There were no blinking eyelids or shifting gazes, he stared at you with unwavering focus from the moment you entered the lab until the moment you left. His eyes…they shone with intelligence and superiority. Like he's just there because he wants to be there, not because he was captured. He owned everything he laid eyes on. The rational part of your brain screamed, 'Look away! Run away!' but those eyes seemed to want to capture your soul with each encounter.
All your co-workers had noticed the strange fixation that the creature seemed to have on you, but you always denied it, diverting the subject while saying it was just their imagination.
Deep down you knew it wasn't.
You saw the way his unsettling gaze settled on your form, felt the shiver run down your spine at his gaze and yet - even now, you could still feel that warm buzz inside at the memory of his burning gaze locked on you.
You could admit that it wasn't healthy to feel any level of curiosity towards a murderous monster who was obsessed with you. It was scary.
Your only consolation was that he was tightly contained with the best technologies the government could dispose of.
But he always seemed very calm to you, as if he were above all that. In a confident and almost arrogant way, in the way that only people who have a coldly calculated plan are.
Now he was free.
And you had a horrible feeling that you knew exactly who he was going after.
You quickly walk down the street towards your house. Your heart beats fast, the gentle breeze brushes your warm skin and your loose hair. The canopy of trees above and the few lights along the main path cast their shadow in the opposite direction as you walk faster and faster.
At the end of the street, your eyes notice movement, something large and slow, moving behind a row of parked cars. It's not completely unusual for pedestrians to be out so late - after all, you're here, right? - but your stomach drops a little, very consciously. Something instinctive warning you that it is smart to be afraid.
By the time your trajectory takes you past the line of dark vehicles, the street is once again empty and you allow the hairs on the back of your neck to rise with relief. It was probably just some insomniac suburbanite, taking out the trash or smoking a cigarette on the sidewalk.
Rows of closed windows stare at you blankly as you pass by, colonial houses with sagging porches and overgrown backyards, the residents of the peaceful neighborhood sleeping soundly within the comfort of their homes.
A noise breaks the silence: a loud, prolonged rumble, followed by an inhuman whine, an undeniably animal sound.
There's a single lamp behind you that puts an enormous silhouette into sharp relief, but you can still easily see his solid, dangerous structure.
Your knees threaten to give way, your throat burns as you try to take a deep breath, fear leaves you numb and clumsy in exactly the least desired way at the moment. You don't think, not really, you just act. Getting to the house across the street is like running a marathon, and raising your fists to knock on the door, swing the doorknob, requires a huge effort against the adrenaline that makes your hands shake uncontrollably. "Please help me!", your voice is hoarse, your throat is tight, it's not loud enough, no matter how much you want to scream - it's like you're trapped in a nightmare where no one can hear your screams for help. "Let me in, please, I-"
The door swings open under the weight of your fists, and you almost fall to your knees at the abrupt movement. You don't have time to think, to weigh whether this would be the smartest choice compared to the others, you don't know if he's clinging to your back or if there's still a safe distance between the two of you -
You just enter.
---
The realization of the terrible mistake you made dawns on you in the space of a few minutes of panting breaths.
The living room is empty, strangely enough, not that you really have time to think about it. A staircase appears in your field of vision, and your panicked animal brain sends you toward it, taking two steps at a time, crossing a long landing and climbing to a second floor, holding on to the railing like a wooden board salvation. "Someone please!" You manage to scream, "Please, someone! I'm being followed, call the police!"
The police couldn't help you, and if you were thinking clearly you would know that. No one, not even the army, could help you against this thing.
Yet there is no voice responding, no shuffling human movement, no clicking light. And then you see the paint cans, the tarp, the door off its hinges and against the opposite wall.
This house is under construction.
Nobody. No lights. Without help.
Spinning on your heel, you stagger back toward the stairs. But there is no more time. The door you left ajar in your moment of despair lets in a pale beam of moonlight through the unfinished wooden floor of the foyer, and you watch in mute horror as a shape fills it - huge, so tall that he has to lower his head past the doorframe, a brick wall of an alien assassin wearing a metallic mask. The soulless black holes of the visor, poor excuses for eyes, stare back at you.
Alone, in an empty and unfamiliar house. Your heart pounds in your chest, bile rising in your throat - you're trapped.
You know it. And he knows it too.
The creature walks with slow and determined steps towards the end of the stairs. You briefly, wildly consider waiting until he reaches the landing and then throwing yourself off the balcony. You can survive.
The thought makes you feel like a panicked rat, chewing on its own leg to get out of the trap.
Of course there's also the possibility that you'll break every bone in your body and die from sheer stupidity - which may be preferable to death by those sharp claws on his massive hands, but at least the latter you'll be able to escape. If you can keep your wits and your legs under you, you might be able to outwit the Predator. Evade the trap.
You almost want to laugh at your own delusions of salvation.
Your unsteady feet drag back without your eyes leaving him, but with every slow step you take back he takes one towards the stairs. The silver rays of the moon bathing his reptilian-looking skin, highlighting his entire body dyed in a singular tone of obsidian, with some lighter variations on the abdomen and in some internal points. Thick, long tendrils of 'hair' flow around the mask and over his broad shoulders, adorned with gold and silver metal beads. One of his hands - oh, huge and with long, sharp black claws - seems to want to reach out towards you, but the creature holds back for some reason, preferring to continue with the strange war of glances.
It seems that in his escape from the laboratory he recovered some of his things: in addition to the mask, he wore the wrist gauntlets, the net that covered his body, the strange piece of cloth wrapped around his hips decorated with bones and skulls, and the metallic protectors on the shins. The metallic chestplate and combi-stick weren't visible, you can't tell if he managed to recover it or not.
Regardless, he was infinitely more frightening now that you can see him outside of containment; big and broad, a solid wall of defined muscles. But it was his posture that unnerved you. The roll of his shoulders, the tension in his arms. The almost imperceptible flex of his calf muscles, as if he was preparing to jump - just waiting for a movement from you to attack.
He reaches out, this time to his own face, grabbing the metal there. Air pressure is released when the metal mask is removed.
You hold your breath.
His face was lighter than the rest of his body, a slightly grayish tone with some black streaks mixing with the dreadlock-like hair on his head, a few black barbs framing the sides of his face and along his elongated forehead. There were, of course, those flaming eyes you already knew. Instead of lips, he had four folded jaws with long teeth at the tip of each of them. Inside those jaws, you could see more of his teeth, smaller but more numerous and frighteningly sharp.
He moved his jaws as he climbed the stairs with purposeful slowness, his massive size making the stairs creak, strange clicks and rumbles emerging from his mouth.
You gasped in response to his face, shaky and scared, your backward steps continuing until your back hit the wall.
End of the line.
If you ran you would have to turn your back on him, and you couldn't do that. Never turn your back on a predator, everyone knew this rule.
It was as if you were in a horror movie or a nightmare, where you could only watch without any reaction as the monster approached. The predatory way he approached awakened the primitive instinct to flee, but your legs were shaking too much for that.
You pushed yourself further against the wall, even though there was no longer any space. It looked like he wouldn't stop walking, that he would simply knock you into the wall, but at the last second he pinned you against him and ice-cold wood at your back.
The air was knocked from you, hands flat against his chest instinctively as a way to get some distance. Even under the net, his skin was clearly much warmer and firmer than your own, smooth in some places and textured in others, the latter matching the gray patterns that spread across his extremities. He smelled mostly of moss and damp, like a forest after rain. But there was also a muffled current of pheromones, a slightly peppery scent that hit you like a tsunami.
In fact now that you felt it, it felt heavier and heavier by the second, as if he was exhaling on purpose. With each inhale, that smell seemed to make you a little more relaxed, a little more dizzy.
It took a few seconds for you to realize that he was even closer, hovering above you, his breath hot and wet, stirring your strands of hair. A gasp left your throat as his sharp jaws dove down, digging his nose or whatever it was into your hair to press into your neck - though you didn't know if that sound had been out of terror or something else. All you knew was that when he backed away, another low, animalistic growl resonated from deep in his chest, long and continuous and it took you a few awkward seconds to realize he was...purring? Purring like a cat? It was bizarre, but your own body began to uncoil, as if some force tied behind you sternum had pulled your back with him.
Your breathing is now labored for what seems like an entirely different reason. You can increasingly smell that intoxicating scent in the air and that, plus the mesmerizing purr, is making your eyes roll back slightly, a blurry haze taking over your thoughts. You can feel his sharp claws as they dig into your shirt and you, in turn, can't control the shudder in your body in response.
His scent is doing something to you, something that definitely shouldn't be happening. There's an overwhelming pressure blooming in your core, the beginnings of a dull ache that makes you clench your thighs to ease the tension. The saliva in your mouth comes down with difficulty as you swallow and lick your lips, stretching your neck to look into his eyes - god, you could barely reach the line below his chest with your head. What's happening with you? He is not human, he is not human. This is wrong.
"..." His jaws click and move, strange sounds fill the room with deep growls and hisses; he was talking, but you couldn't understand him. His eyes roam your face as he speaks his strange language, and his thumb gently wipes away a tear you hadn't even noticed falling from your eye.
You open your mouth to question, to scream for help, to beg for mercy, for anything...but nothing comes out.
His breath is hot as he bends his body until he's almost face to face with you, all predatory expression and clicking jaws, almost drooling on your skin. And then, as he forcing the words out of his depths, he says, “Mate.” He declares to you, slowly and gravely in a way that no human sound could ever be, but a little more understandable now.
You look at him in shock, not expecting a deep, English word to come out of his alien mouth. His inhuman eyes are bright enough that you clearly see the orange flames in the dim light of the night, slashed down the center with black, almost feline pupils that threaten to drag you inside.
Mate.
What the hell?
You blink slowly, the low rumble persisting as he purrs under your attention and you can tell he's trying very hard to appear less threatening to you. You bite your lip against a hysterical and completely untimely laugh that wants to escape, the tension of fear finally channeling into something different (something manic and traumatized) when he presses his broad forehead to yours in a frighteningly intimate gesture, tilting his head even further to rub your cheeks with those sharp jaws, snorting into your hair and sniffing at your neck.
The drag of the deadly fangs against your skin is exhilarating, in the worst way and you fear what is to come, a very animal and very instinctive part rooted in the most unconscious corner of your being, knows exactly what this creature is wanting from you. And the worst part, the most disturbing and embarrassing part of this realization, is that you don't know if you want to resist. Not with the way his scent and purrs are making your legs shaky and your mind fuzzy.
You're shaking, but it's not just from fear and perhaps the creature knows this, because he pulls back a little until he looks into your eyes - something very carnal and very primal vibrating almost visibly beneath that reptilian skin.
He slowly looks away from yours to fiddle with something on his wrist, and you feel like you can breathe once again without the oppressive weight of the orange orbs on you. He clicks the object on his arm for a few moments and then pulls a small metal disk out of it. It's no bigger than a small cell phone chip, and he balanced it on his fingertips.
Curious, you lean in a little. You just want to take a look at what he's doing; but before you even know what's happening, the giant puts his hand around your throat and pulls you towards him. You scream at the hostile action and try to fight him, but of course it's no use. With his strong hand, he can easily subdue you and move your head to the side, pressing the metal thing against the skin just behind your ear in a quick, burning blow.
You don't have time to react, much less to understand how he did that at that speed.
You just feel the effect.
It burns, like you're being branded, and you scream. Your whole head hurts, and for a second you wonder if he hit you against the wall in the process. It's a wrong and distorted feeling, like someone is tuning a radio inside your head, you hear screams and white noise echoing inside; so loud that you have to cover your ears with your hands, but that does little to decrease to the cacophony inside your mind.
When the alien releases you, you kneel on the ground, still writhing in discomfort and pain from the chaos in your head – and then, suddenly, everything stops. You're panting, your fingers covering your ears and your head between your knees, but when the noise quiets, you slowly look up. And although you are dizzy and a little disoriented, the presence of the creature hovering ominously above you is clear.
“W-what was that?” you mumble between quick breaths. "What the hell did you do to me!?"
The alien blinks slowly and tilts his head, jaws clicking before he responds. "Now we can talk."
Your eyes widen at the strange sound (but fluid and articulate, very different from just a few minutes ago), your stomach tightens and you pull your knees closer to your chest. “W-what?”
“It’s a translator,” he says. His voice is still very dark and booming, but his growls and clicks have somehow turned into words you can understand. “This allows your little ooman brain to understand my language.”
You swallow hard and feel the blood drain from your body. He was scary when you couldn't understand him, but he was even scarier when he could talk.
“Get up, little ooman,” he murmurs. “We should get to my ship. I don’t want to spend any more time on this miserable planet.”
You can't believe what you're hearing, everything is happening so fast. With shaky legs, you gape at him. “I…I don’t understand.”
The moment is interrupted by something when the alien turns his head towards the window of the house, the various dreads tubes rattling with the movement and his jaws opening in a low trill while a long, forked tongue at the tip comes out of his deadly-looking mouth. You gasp at the sight, but he doesn't look at you, using his own body in front of yours, as if he was instinctively hiding and protecting you from something you cannot see, feel or hear. The burgundy appendage is long and glistens with the moisture of his alien saliva, along its length there are some quivers and small barbs. He slowly waves the thing in the air, almost as if he's proving something. And then you understand.
He's smelling it.
Maybe he's even more snake-like than you thought, after all, catching scent particles in the air with his tongue.
The air is positively thick with eager anticipation, he's alert and ready and you feel it.
You don't have time to think about it too much, though. Because soon he is looking at you again, although there is no longer any sign of malice and hunger in his posture now. The way he lifts his colossal body until he's completely erect, swelling the already prominent muscles to appear more menacing, only speaks of a creature with a purpose.
"Oomans here. They must have some kind of tracker." He growls once more and clicks that gauntlet again, making you jerk back with a new wave of fear.
"Y-yes, all the containment units are after you now. It's only a matter of time before they find you and try to arrest you again. Y-you should go." You respond quietly and slowly, trying to make him understand every word.
"My ship is nearby." He grumbles sullenly. You try to control the wave of curiosity that the word 'ship' evokes in you. Seriously, how many humans have had the opportunity to see one up close? But of course you don't say anything, if you got out of this situation with your life it would be good enough. You would forget about this bizarre encounter and go on with your peaceful and boring life as if you had received the greatest gift of all.
But then he continues.
“You…” He covers your body with his once again, cornering you against the wall. Your eyes widen as he wraps a thick arm around your waist, pulling you into him. "You belong to me now, ooman. You'll come along."
You feel like you didn't get it right. “T-to space?”
He doesn't seem to want to entertain this conversation anymore and just grunts again.
It's like all the red flags go up in your mind at once.
"N-no! No, I can't, that's...I can't!"
But he doesn't listen to you, and you can't predict the sharp sting on your neck. It doesn't hurt like it used to, but he cradles your head with huge fingers almost tenderly as a sickening sensation wracks your body and makes you stagger. You feel weak, your body giving out as you babble out things that even you don't understand. Everything is getting dark and your little fingers are scratching his arms looking for support, your breathing is coming with difficulty and your eyes are unfocused.
"It's okay, mate, just give in...I'll take care of you..." He purrs, but you can barely hear him, your senses are fuzzy and lethargic and you know you're going to pass out.
The last thing you see before the darkness swallows you and the unknown can wrap its tentacles around you, are orange flames above you. Hot, consuming and scary.
And then there is nothing but emptiness.
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snooyaki · 4 months
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이찬연 — BARISTA BOY ☂︎ CH. I
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a/n: my first ever written work on tmblr wooo 🥳 if this receives good feedback i’ll be willing to turn this into a series! hope you enjoy 💗
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‘DONT CRY … DONT CRY.’ anton repeated to himself, feeling the lump forming in his throat as his eyes couldn’t help but begin to grow glossy. having a full mental breakdown in the middle of brewing up a coffee for a costumer was not an option for the boy. anton sniffled, a shaky exhale releasing from his trembling lips as he finished off his cappuccino with his signature leaf art. what a sad looking leaf it was. anton took a deep exhale, placing the coffee cup down as he pushed it forwards against the counter. ‘speak… you can do it..’
“o-order for minyoung?” anton’s delicate voice cracked.
the boy mentally cussed at himself, watching in fear as the scary woman he had encountered earlier stomped her way up to the counter, anton flinching with every clack of her heels. the woman’s sharp wrinkly eyes glared daggers at the anxious boy who couldn’t help but gulp at the sight.
“finally got my order right??” the woman’s icy tone spat, as anton quickly nodded his head. “y-yes maam… i apologize again for the inconvenience…” anton managed to speak despite his heart rate going off the charts.
anton was having a shitty day.
the boy had woken up that morning and not a thing was going his way. he had slept through his alarm and missed his bus on the way to work, resulting in being scolded by his manager. he had burned himself on one of the steamers, causing a mug to fall and shatter. not to mention the rude customers. anton did not know what was going on today, as it seemed that everyone was not having a good day. especially him.
anton was an emotional boy, one who got overwhelmed easily. today was taking a toll on him. it was mentally and physically draining to contain his tears and his thoughts. he just needed to make it through the day, he kept telling himself.
“excuse me,”
anton paused, eyes widening slightly in realization. he had been staring down at the cash register lost in his thoughts as a customer was patiently waiting for him to come back to his senses. god he was embarrassed. could this day get any worse? the boy lifted his head, ready to apologize to the customer before his words got stuck in his throat at the sight before him.
“… hi,” y/n smiled warmly, gazing up at anton with kind yet curious eyes. “you’re anton lee … right?” her soft voice rang out, a bright and comforting aura radiating off the girl.
anton stared at the girl in disbelief, the tips of his ears slowly beginning to turn a deep shade of red. out of all days his crush could have shown up at his work, it just had to be today? anton shook his head as he snapped back to his senses, a soft chuckle and forced smile came from the boy.
“yeah … yeah that’s me.” he spoke, rubbing the nape of his neck awkwardly, before meeting her gaze. “you’re y/n l/n … right?”
of course, anton knew who she was. everyone in their school knew who she was. y/n was a star student, known for her good grades, kind soul, and her beauty. it wasn’t a surprise that anton began crushing on y/n in the beginning of tenth grade after being in three out of the six classes a day for a whole year. it had all started the first day of school, when y/n had spoken to him for the first and the last time.
“excuse me!” a hurried voice spoke, catching anton’s attention as the boy curiously turned around, his gaze instantly shooting down. there she was, in all her glory.
y/n gazed up at the boy with a kind smile, holding out a familiar navy-blue notebook in front of the boy. “here, your notebook. you left it in the classroom.” she hummed, as anton’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“oh …” anton muttered, slowly taking the notebook from the girl, a small smile lifting on his lips.
anton could feel his heart beating out of his chest as he stared at her pretty smile. “thanks …” he had managed to speak, before the girl had nodded her head.
“of course,” y/n smiled, before retreating to her friends. anton watched as she walked down the hallway, laughing and giggling with her friends. he watched her until she had disappeared in the large crowd of students.
“anton…?” sohee spoke, not snapping the boy out of his daydreams.
“anton… why are you so red?!”
  ೀ
although of course, anton had no intentions on pursuing her. y/n was way out of his league, or that’s what he believed. he was a silent admirer and planned on keeping it that way.
well, until today.
the girl nodded her head enthusiastically at anton’s question, delighted that he had remembered her name. “mhm! i didn’t know you worked here… this is quite a famous coffee shop.” y/n chuckled softly in attempts to make small conversation with the quiet boy.
anton felt his heart skip a few beats at the sound of her melodic giggle, nibbling his lip anxiously before nodding his head. “ive been working here for a few months now…” anton spoke, his eyes not being able to trail away from the girl’s face as she scanned the menu. anton couldn’t get his eyes off her. it was like he was stuck in a trance, analyzing every feature on her face. her beauty marks, her hair, the way her eyes sparkled excitedly while deciding what she was going to drink.
“make me your favourite order here. i want to try something new.” y/n eagerly spoke, taking anton for surprise. he had never had a customer ask for that before, but he was willing to do it. especially for her.
anton finally gathered the courage to show a little smile, nodding his head in approval at her request. “sure. i’ll make you something good.” anton stated, earning an excited smile from the other.
anton didn’t know what was with him in that moment. he felt a surge of confidence rise. ‘its now or never …’.
“it’s on me,” anton added, his eyes gazing down at his crush, watching as her expression quickly falter. anton rang it through the register before she was able to protest, chuckling at the sight of her shoulders falling in defeat.
“you didn’t have to do that anton…” y/n frowned, almost as if she was glaring at him in disappointment. anton looked down at the floor, a soft blush rising over his cheeks mentally preparing himself to meet her eyes again.
“but… i wanted to.” anton managed to say, his eyes searching for a reaction from the girl.
anton swore he saw her blush. he swore by it, but the self-doubt was convincing him otherwise. he couldn’t tell if he was imagining things. “it’ll be ready at the end of the counter.” anton then added, snapping y/n out of her thoughts.
the girl then showed off her signature smile, letting out a breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding in. “thank you anton.” she hummed.
anton’s day was suddenly, not so shitty anymore. he couldn’t help but smile as he made her order the whole time, silently giggling to himself as he thought. he talked to you. he had finally talked to you again. something he had been meaning to do for two years. it finally happened.
anton gazed down at the cup, focusing hard on the heart he hadn’t even realized he made on your latte, resulting in a soft blush when he came to his senses. anton grabbed a lid, placing it over the cup as he let out a soft exhale in preparation before making his way towards the end of the counter.
“order for y/n!” he called out, catching her attention.
y/n gazed up from her phone, shutting it off as she stuffed it into her jacket pocket. the girl then made her way over to anton, grabbing the cup from the shy boy. she examined the way he had written her name. ‘y/n ᵕ̈ ‘ it read in his hand writing. she felt like she could stare at it for days, as a smile began slowly spreading over her face. y/n gazed up at the boy, letting out a soft chuckle. “thank you again anton.” she beamed, as anton gazed down at his feet, flustered.
“of course, y/n.”
the two shared a soft gaze, both in a comfortable silence unable to rip their gazes away, until you had spoken up. “i’ll see you at school…” y/n spoke, not breaking eye contact with anton once before slightly hesitating her next words. “dont be a stranger.” she stated, watching as anton shook his head at the girl. “i wont.” he stated back.
anton watched as the girl then began making her way out of the coffee shop. it saddened him a bit, to see her leave, her figure slipping past the door. but after his encounter with you, he couldn’t have been happier. anton stood there, smiling like an idiot. there were hearts practically surrounding the boy in love.
maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.
— nari ¨̮
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yawnderu · 5 months
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"Quit lookin' at me like that." He demands, accent growing thicker by the minute at his frustration.
"Like what?" You manage to gasp out, cheeks swollen and bloody at the beating you just took. Your hands are clasped together on your lap, forced to sir on your knees as you look up at him.
What stared back at you wasn't your loving Simon, no— this creature was much different. Ghost was glaring down at you, eyes cold and devoid of emotion other than pure, raw anger.
"Like a fuckin' lost puppy. Like you don't know what you did." His grip on the trigger tightens, holding the muzzle to your temple.
Please, tell me it isn't true. For the love of God, tell me it's all a lie.
"You leaked our information to fuckin' Konni?" He asks in disbelief, just wanting to confirm what he knew all along. It all connected once he found out; the late night escapades, the detached look in your eyes, how you kept missing every single celebration with the team claiming you were busy. Maybe if he noticed sooner, things would have been different.
Your silence and the way your head hangs low in shame is all the confirmation he needs. His gloved hand grips the pistol harder, the rough material almost merging with his skin.
You don't even have the courage to look at me.
"Everythin' we did together... I trusted you with my bloody life. I told you all my secrets and let you see all of me, and this is how you fuckin' pay me?" He doesn't even wait for an answer, three silenced gunshots ringing in his ears as he dumps the bullets into your chest, looking away before he hears the familiar thud of a body hitting the ground.
Goddammit. God damn it all to fucking hell.
Simon chokes on a harsh breath, the corners of his mouth twisting into a frown underneath his balaclava, jaw slackening. He doesn't dare look at you, unwilling to let his last image of you be a pool of blood with dead eyes.
He cried all his tears when he was a little kid, yet he can somehow feel the familiar sting in his eyes, causing him to sigh loudly and shake his head. His pistol goes back in its holster as he turned to leave, not sparing you a single glance.
Dying alone is a scary thought. You come to the world in a room full of people, your mother's happy face looking at her own creation, nurses and doctors smiling and celebrating you even when all your tiny body can do is to cry.
The thought of death isn't what scares you, no. Being a soldier for the special forces only ends two ways: retirement or going home in a box. That's something you came to terms with a long time ago, when your much younger hand held the pen, signing the contract that sold your soul to your comrades, a silent eternal promise of "we fight together, and we die together".
Your shaky hands grasp at the snow as you drag yourself forward, gear all of sudden heavier than ever; crushing you down like Atlas holding the sky. Your blood leaves a dirty trail on the pure, clean snow, marking you down as an easy target if Simon decides to come back for you— you know Ghost won't.
By the time someone manages to find you, your fingers are purple and your lips are painted an awful shade of blue, body adorned with burns from the cold snow digging into your bare skin. You allow yourself to rest as soon as the warmth of someone's hand makes contact with your skin, barely able to register the panicked scream and loud orders being barked.
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Labeled as a hero after saving the country from Makarov's terrorist attack, Simon sported a new brand of chest candy on his uniform. Colorful ribbons adorned the right side of his blazer. His chest is still puffed out with pride as he steps into his small flat in London, all memories of you thrown away, including the ring he kept hidden in a drawer.
''Cute shoulder pads.'' Your finger hovers above the trigger, finally stepping out of the dark.
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areislol · 1 year
Text
patting their head out of nowhere
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ft— blade, gepard, dan heng, jing yuan, yanqing, luocha, welt, sampo
warning — none, just fluff! might be ooc, established relationship, gn! reader, mentions of killing, platonic for yanqing, characters in order
a/n— first hsr post omgggggg!! as i stated in the warning the characters might be a bit ooc because it's my first time writing for them so.. it's short im sorry :(
wordcount. 2.2k
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blade 刃
✧ he was just crouching down when you, out of the blue, start patting his head.
✧ blade turns his head up to look at you, mans just.. staring at you with such cold eyes. watching as you pat his head, he's... ugh *cue a deep and "annoyed" sigh*
✧ "what is it now, Y/N?" he asks in an annoyed tone, and honestly, he could've just stood up or removed your hand from his head but he didn't. weird, isn't it? blade lets you continue your nonsense as he crouches there, pressing his lips into a thin line as people pass by, giggling and pointing at you two. they were probably talking about how cute you two were.. a tall, scary guy getting head pats from someone who isn't to scary looking. how adorable! ♡
✧ he watches you intensely with piercing eyes, but you know that there is a small glint of softness seeping out of his mask.
✧ blade doesn't really like pda out in the public but, a head pat? pfft- that's not even big! why would he be affected by something to small? so he doesn't care. (but he really does, because ohmygosh! it's you!! you're giving him head pats, so so adorable!)
✧ he doesn't mind anything when it comes to you.. but if somebody who's not you starts patting his head, they'd be dead on the ground already.
✧ whenever someone (like jing yuan) notices this cute interaction and give him a smirk and mouth "aww" he rolls his eyes and stares into their soul, because when you're done he may or may not try to kill them later <;33
✧ (blade tells you to not do that in public once you're done, but when you're both together in private he asks, in a very embarrassed tone, if you could give him some head pats.)
✧ he grumbles and mutters under his breath, something along the lines of "i can't believe it." when you smile and pat his head, he's trying to act all tough and act like he isn't affected by your actions but it's really hard to when heat rushes to his cheeks and a pink hue suddenly appears on his cheeks.
✧ "what? i'm red? don't be so ridiculous ...."
gepard 傑帕德
✧ he blinks at you in confusion when you stand on your tippy toes and gesture for him to come down to your level, when he does, you start to pat his head. ah, there it is. the flustered and confused gepard.
✧ "ohmygoshyou'resoadorablehowcanonebesocute!!!" literally his thoughts right now as you pat his head and gush over how soft his hair is, gepard is quite literally on cloud nine.
✧ gepard sort of.. malfunctions? his cheeks are so red and hot he thinks he may faint from your head pats. he freezes when you first place your hand on his head but within a few seconds he immediately melts in your touches and smiles up at you.
✧ gepard loves receiving pda from you. whether it be something small or not. he loves knowing the fact that everybody knows that you two are together from these simple loving acts. he allows you to continue patting his head (as if he could stop you) and you can see how he's blushing like crazy.
✧ he looks like a cute puppy boy who loves getting head pats (because he does) and his adorable red face makes your heart melt. once you're done with patting his head, he immediately grabs onto your hand and for a second he pauses before he slowly puts your hand down, he blushes and looks at you in an embarrassed way
✧ "i.. is it alright if you continue this later? when we're alone..?"
dan heng 丹恆
✧ hghfffffff are you trying to kill this man? could this interaction not be any cuter!?!?!? <- dan heng freaking out internally as you pat his head. dan chuckles softly and sighs in delight.
✧ dan LOVES it when you give him affection, in the public or not. if you hold his hands, he will blush, if you give him a peck on the cheek, he will blush, if you link arms with him, he will blush, if you- (you get the idea..)
✧ "truly, Y/N, you're so cute.." dan sighs, closing his eyes as you continued to pat and run your fingers through his hair. if he was a cat right now, he would be purring loudly. like, really loud.
✧ he doesn't care if his friends see him like this, it's adorable, is it not? if anything he'd smile happily at whoever's passing by or at his friends and mouth "im in heaven-uh!!" while pointing at you patting his head.
✧ your head pats give him some soft of comfort, it's like you're praising him, by patting his head. and he would love nothing more than you patting his head after doing something successfully or winning a duel.
✧ when your hands leave his head he immediately grabs your hand and places it back on his head. "don't stop, i like it." and how could you refuse? (you can't, that's the thing)
✧ so you spent like 20 or more minutes just patting his head, your hand was getting slightly tired and when he noticed how sloppy your movements were getting he let out a soft sigh and stood up, smiling down at you.
✧ "thank you for spoiling me, love. lets go get some food yeah? how about your favourite?"
jing yuan 景元
✧ he raises his brows at you in confusion and amusement. he doesn't say anything though, only staring at you with those pretty eyes and watching you pat and rub his head.
✧ slowly, his lips curve into a smirk. "dear, what are you doing? giving me head pats.. interesting.." his tone is so teasing for what reason.. jing yuan is a general, so whatever he does affects his reputation and his image, but he really doesn't care when it comes to you.
✧ like when yanqing comes running to jing yuan, looking at you patting his master's head. he's obviously thinking "what.. on earth..?" and opens his mouth to speak but jing cuts him off. "what are you here for, yanqing? im currently busy with my partner."
✧ huhu, he's such a tease, asking you why you're giving him head pats, asking if you're doing this to get his attention or something.. you can only shut him up with a chaste kiss to his lips to which he blushes at.
✧ he sighs softly and closes his eyes. taking in the calm breeze and the nice head pats you're giving, jing yuan won't really voice that he's enjoying this, but maybe his soft hums that escape his lips will tell you.
✧ but in the end when the head pat session is over, he smiles tenderly at you and leans forward to give you a quick kiss on your cheek. "i enjoyed your little head pats.. maybe you should do it more often."
✧ he gives you head pats in return as well!! it's only fair, right? once you're done with your head pats it's his turn, you're surprised at first since you didn't expect him to do that but you don't complain. his eyes soften as he sees how you're enjoying this, a faint blush on his cheeks as he continued to pat your head. you're so adorable.. it's truly a blessing to have you in his life.
✧ "it's only fair, is it not? you give me head pats and i give you them as well.."
yanqing 彥卿
✧ he looks at you in confusion as you pat his head, was this some sort of reward for finally hitting 5,000 strikes on a practice dummy? either way, he lets you continue patting his head.
✧ yanqing thinks that it'll be over soon but.. nope. you continue to pat his head and he just continues to stare at you, giving you a nervous smile when your eyes meet his. "ah.. Y/N, why..?" he stops himself from talking when you stop moving your hands, did he upset you?
✧ but when he realizes that you only stopped because you thought that it was making him uncomfortable, he immediately reassures you that he wasn't uncomfortable, only... confused.
✧ when you explain that you just wanted to give him a head pat (maybe as a reward for doing such a good job) he nods his head and speaks again. "you.. can continue if you want. i dont mind. just tell me next time, okay?"
✧ he knows that he made the right choice when he sees your eyes light up as you start to pat his head again. yanqing is slightly embarrassed when he sees that jing yuan notices what you're doing to him
✧ yan smiles awkwardly at jing and he's sweating BALLS because now the general, his master!! is seeing him in a situation that.. could make him be seen as vulnerable.
✧ he eventually stops you and apologizes, saying that he has to go do something (he really does) and that he doesn't mind if you pat his head next time, probably somewhere jing yuan doesn't frequent.
luocha 羅剎
✧ ah.. he expected you to do something like that. he doesn't really mind it, if anything he loves it! he smiles tenderly as he relaxes in your touch, sighing softly. "mm, i do enjoy this, why head pats all of the sudden?"
✧ when you explain that you just felt like it, he lets out a hum and nods his head. luocha continues doing what he was doing before, it was quite hard to concentrate, yes, but he didn't have the heart to stop you so..
✧ luocha likes receiving pda from you, mostly in private though, but as of right now you two are alone so he doesn't care what you do to him. and if you don't mind, maybe he could return the head pats (and more) as well?
✧ he actually enjoys the head pats, and he actually voiced it as well!! and when you tease him about it you notice a faint pink hue appear on his cheeks.. so cute..
✧ if you give him head pats out in public though, he might stop you if you go on for too long. but don't worry, he will allow you to do it for however long you want to once you two are home.
✧ he's so soft for you honestly, so expect head pats back. when you're done you turn away but suddenly he starts to pat your head back and you're just like ??? you're still and everything
✧ luocha chuckles softly at your reaction and smiled tenderly at you. "how cute of you, i must give you something in return, no?"
welt 瓦爾特
✧ ".... what are you doing..?"
✧ he's so confused i swear, staring at you dumbfounded and slightly annoyed when you pat his head. he lets out a huff and goes back to his activity. he could care less about what you're doing to him and doesn't mind what others think.
✧ welt is unbothered by you, allowing you to continue your head patting and you're glad that he's not that affected by your actions.
✧ welt glares at anybody who's giggling and pointing at you two. like, mind your own business.
✧ he looks like a grumpy dad and sighs sadly. "why... are you.. nevermind."
✧ you might think that he isn't enjoying it and he has to put up with you everyday, which, he does. but he is enjoying it. anything you do to him he absolutely loves and cherishes. you think he'll forget about the head pats? absolutely not, once you two go home he's asking you to massage and run your fingers through his hair after showering.
✧ "dearest, could i trouble you to do what you did to me earlier today, right now? i.. enjoyed it.."
sampo 桑博
✧ smiles like a mad man!! you're just so adorable.. how could he not?? sampo's smiling like crazy when u give him head pats <;33
✧ "oh? what's my little dove doing?" he says in a teasing tone (?? he likes teasing u hhh)
✧ his heart is beating so fast you can probably hear it if you were to lean in closer to his chest. not only that but he's B.L.U.S.H.I.N.G. face red like a tomato as you run your fingers through his hair.
✧ sampo will NEVER stop you from giving him affection (especially kisses and linking hands with you) so when you give him head pats he allows you to instead of stopping you.. and you're doing this in public too.. not that anything's wrong with that!!
✧ he pulls you in closer by your waist!! smirking as he hears you yelp from surprise. "what~ did that surprise you?"
✧ sampo could care less about the stares he gets from people/his friends, why should he be? everybody in the world should know about your relationship!
✧ please don't stop the head pats :(( he's literally begging you to not stop because its just so comforting to him ♡ if you do stop he won't pressure you to continue but he'll probably pout for a good 20 minutes before he finally smiles again when you kiss his cheek.
✧ he loves the head pats. so he hopes that you will continue giving him head pats in the future <;33
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note: if you would like to be added to the honkai star rail taglist pls just ask me!! dont be shy &lt;3
taglist 🏷️ : none so far
liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!
another note: first hsr post!!! also i got my glasses today and uhm i kinda hate it but yk what, my eyesight is so much better so...
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!
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fcthots · 7 months
Note
“I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.” with protective upset and slightly unhinged jason would be so so good oh my god. like if something bad happens to reader and he has to get violent to defend her… yeah.
-🧸
You were on you way home, out later than you should have been, but your friend needed moral support after a breakup and you lost track of time.
Unfortunately while both you & Jason's apartment and your friend's were just off the edge of crime alley, your friend's apartment was on the opposite end of you and Jason. All of this is to say, unless you wanted to be out after midnight, you had to pass through crime alley after dark. It was just a five minute walk there, when daylight spared you of most of the dangers of Gotham, but it was pitch black now. You should have driven, but at the time it didn’t seem necessary.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
You walked as fast as possible.
You didn’t even have a purse on you. Your phone was in the leather jacket Jason had bought you as a present and you had 20 dollars stuffed somewhere in your pant pockets.
Were you supposed to turn left here? Yeah, you recognize that streetlamp.
You would call Jason, but your phone is fucking dead and it's not like you were gonna ask your crying friend for a charger. And you didn’t realize how late it had gotten until you stepped outside with no way to get back into your friends apartment.
You were in the home stretch, just in the outskirts of crime alley. Almost freedom.
Never let it be said that you were lucky. All of your luck was used getting your hot ass boyfriend. Luck gone.
The man had a knife and was screaming for your wallet. Your wallet that you did not bring with you.
"Give me the wallet or I'm gonna spill your guts on the fucking ground!"
Just because your boyfriend was scary looking, did not mean you were used to scary men, especially ones that yelled at you. Your hands shook and you weren't sure what to do.
"I don’t have it. All I have is 20 dollars, please."
"That's a fucking lie. I see your jacket. I know that shit is expensive. Lie to me again and I'll slit your throat."
Fuck. If you had to guess, it would be Jason that would find your body. You didn’t want it to be Jason. He wouldn't be able to handle seeing your lifeless eyes. You know what it's like to look into your soulmates lifeless eyes and realize they're gone forever; you were hoping Jason would never have to experience that.
"It's-"
"Tough luck... I guess I could accept other forms of payment."
He bares his teeth in a grin as he sees the look on your face.
"Unless you'd prefer that no one ever finds your body?"
You're really glad you told Jason you loved him before he left for patrol.
The man starts getting closer to you. You can't talk, can't scream, can't think. You were gonna die alone.
You think you mumble out a 'please' before your back hits the wall. His knife was to your throat, but all you could think about was Jason.
There was a bang that you didn’t fully register. Before you could think twice about it, your mugger was on the ground. You didn’t move. You stayed, frozen, silent tears running down your cheeks.
"Shh, it's ok. You're ok. It's me."
You finally focused your eyes and saw the white lenses staring at you, his arms in the air.
You babbled nonsense. You couldn't breathe.
You tried to back away from the man on the floor, but you almost fell. You swore your legs were going to give out. Jason was at your side in less than a second. He lifted you over the bleeding body on the ground, supported your weight as your knees buckled.
He tucked your face into the crook of his neck and you choked on air.
"I've got you. Match my breaths, ok? Good. You're doing great. You're ok, I promise."
All you could manage to get out was his name.
"'M right here. Just breathe. Focus on that for me." His hand cradled the base of your neck.
Eventually you stopped crying. Eventually you could breathe again. Eventually Jason led your face away from his neck to look at you. Your whole body shook. You watched as he drew his hand up to his helmet and heard this hiss and click and he took it off. He took your jaw in one of his hands.
He wiped the splattered blood and tears off your cheeks with a gloved hand, traced the trail of fresh blood and broken skin on your neck from where the knife was pressed against you. “I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.”
You looked into his eyes as they flashed an inhuman green, and you believed him.
Bonus:
"Wait, Jay. Did you just happen to stumble across me?"
"There...may or may not be a tracker in the jacket I bought you... You were in one place for too long."
"I hate that that makes me feel safer."
He smiles apologetically. "I love you."
"I love you too."
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scoutswritingcorner · 26 days
Text
More Papa Headcanons!
PLATONIC Papa!Alastor & GN!Child!Reader
Angst Flavored~
First Part
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TW: ANGST- Just a teeny tiny bit. For the soul. Oh and Susan is mentioned.
A/N: Enjoy~
I usually leave this part up to you guys, the readers of my ramblings, but what if you were born out of wedlock? You are technically Alastor’s bastard child. Especially during that time period? That was greatly frowned upon and you never knew who your mother was! But despite all of that, Alastor and his Mom adored you. (Don’t get me wrong she probably chewed his ass out for it but she adored you.) 
Now, as you grew older people started saying it to your face, even kids at your school. But everytime you brought it up to Alastor he got angry, not at you, so he teaches you how to defend yourself and makes sure that you know to never start a fight. 
But once in hell, the name still sticks. Susan once overheard Alastor and Rosie’s conversation about it and called you that to your face. (Mean ass old woman right there.) And to say you were upset was an understatement, you knew better than to get into adult’s business but you just ran to your Papa sobbing cause you had thought you escaped that treatment. Despite being in Hell. You’re just clinging to his pants as you try your darndest not to cry but gosh the words keep echoing, both Rosie and Alastor are immediately worried about you. Cause you never cry or cause too much trouble!
Once they hear what Susan said? Rosie has to keep Alastor from flipping his lid. You stay by his side the rest of the day too scared to go play with the other kids in Cannibal Town. It shouldn’t bother you too much but you’ve been called that your entire few years of living and now it’s followed you down to Hell? What if the others start doing such a thing? 
Not to worry, Auntie Rosie shuts the whole thing down if she even catches a whiff of it. 
NOW ONTO NICER THINGS-
Full credit to @aceblaze01 for the idea of Vox being in Child!Reader’s afterlife! Especially when he and Alastor were hanging out(idk if I should call them partners). He was like an odd Uncle to you! Also 100% would let you watch kids cartoons on his screen, but you were so confused by it that you stood there staring at him before finally getting comfortable to sit down and watch those weird picture shows your papa talked about. He would totally put on Disney films for you. 
You watched Bambi once and ended up crying. He had to hold you and calm you down before Alastor was alerted. After that he stuck with everything else but Bambi. 
You sometimes go with Alastor to Overlord meetings and sit next to him drawing, not paying any mind to what’s going on either. You mostly draw your Papa and Auntie Rosie but you’ve started to draw Vox and that man cries when you hand him the drawings of him with very shaky handwriting and misspelled words. He loves it and keeps it hung up on his wall framed and everything. You gave a drawing to a lot of the nicer Overlords as a thank you for letting you join with your Papa. You gave one to Zestial, Carmilla and many of the unnamed ones that didn’t look too scary..you gave those to your Papa so he can give it to them. 
Even after all those years and Alastor’s falling out with Vox as a whole, he kept your drawings still safely framed. He doesn’t have the heart to get rid of them. Valentino said one bad thing about them and got the shock of his afterlife. That’s the last time he brought it up. He still checks up on you, makes sure you're alright. Even though he can’t physically be next to you cause Alastor would lose his fucking shit, he makes sure he has people check up on you. 
Vox has killed people who even thought of putting a hit out on you before Alastor ever caught wind about it. He’s not a man to play around with when it comes to you- his little niece/nephew/nibling (gender neutral term for niece/nephew).
During exterminations? Alastor stays with you the whole time. He doesn’t need anything hurting you. He keeps you in his room with books and anything else you want to bring. When you're in the hotel and extermination is around the corner, while the hotel is relatively safe. He still makes sure you stay far away from any doors leading to the outside. 
Oh boy, you are the only one able to sit in his tower with him while he works! He has a chair designated for you and will answer any and all questions about his work (even if they do get silly and repetitive). You’ll fall asleep sometimes when he’s on air and he doesn’t miss a beat wrapping his jacket around you as he continues to talk.
Taglist: @littledolly2345, @aboyscriminalrecord
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suiana · 2 months
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Yay!
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(yandere! sweetheart x gn! reader)
You've seen him around. Seen how he talks, how he acts. And you're certain of one thing.
He's not what he looks to be.
Others might say you're paranoid or something, say you're just jealous of him and how everyone seems to adore him. But you really aren't. You just... You're just scared of him.
You're sure of it. It's his whole vibe and aura. It fucking creeps you out and you just can't understand why no one else can feel that. But you suppose it's because he looks like just another guy who's awfully sweet.
His eyes, lips, they all tell a different story as compared to the eerie vibe he gives off. Normally the eyes would be able to tell if he was just acting but... Even his eyes show that he's just a sweetheart.
You've rethought your opinions on him several times. Maybe you're just mistaken. Perhaps you're thinking too much about it.
But no matter how hard you've tried to see him in a positive light, your stomach churns with an indescribable fear. And your gut has never once lied to you.
Which is why you're currently trying to leave this scary situation which your best friend has put you in. She had brought you out to eat for a hangout and out of nowhere, this guy popped out and your friend invited him to join you two without caring about your opinion. You really wanted to punt her after she did that.
Anyways, she's in the toilet right now which means that you're left alone with him.
You didn't know what to say. You honestly just wanted to avoid him if you could. But he seemed to have other ideas.
"So! What have you been up to? I've been volunteering and helping around town, planting flowers and accompanying old granny-"
You tune out his words, staring at him with a slightly unnerved expression. Shit, he really does look like your average cute guy who's just a sweetheart. You can't help but feel bad about ignoring him but... even now, you're on edge. How could this be? You don't even sense any malicious intent but you're worried?
"Hey! Are you not listening?"
You snap out of your daze, blinking several times as you gulp nervously.
"Ah... apologies. I was just... tired, yeah."
"Hm..."
He hums, still smiling at you as he props his hands on the table and rests his chin on them. You figut the urge to look away from him as he stares holes into your skull. Shit, when is your friend going to return? You can't handle this anymore...
"Say, darling, do I scare you that much?"
He suddenly mumbles, catching you off guard by the petname and his words. What? He knew that he scared you?
"I knew that you were different. That you could see something others couldn't. Which is why I was interested in the first place. But it really hurts me to see you blatantly ignoring me more and more each day."
He complains, pouting at you as he continues to stare straight into your soul. You feel a shiver run down your spine as your mouth runs dry. Wait what? What is going on? Why did he say that? He knew? Darling? Did he like you?! What the hell?
"You're really special to me. I really don't want you to be scared of me."
He reaches one of his hands out and places it above your trembling ones. He smiles warmly, though you can't help but feel chilled by the action. Damn boy! Stop! You don't like this!
"W-what are you-"
"I am completely in love with you. And I apologize about my... condition that has scared you."
He admits, cheeks flushed as he continues to stare at you, eyes unblinking. You have no response to him. Who knew that the town sweetheart that scared the shit out of you had fallen for you? And condition? Oh shit, was he like, a devil or something?
You gulp nervously, lower lip trembling as you freeze in your seat. Cold sweat decorates your forehead as you pray for your friend to hurry her ass up.
"Ah... I had planned to just take you, you know? But I don't want you to be too frightened of me... It hurts. Truly."
He sighs before removing his hand away from yours, looking at the direction in which your friend was walking from. Thank god! What was she even doing for so long?! She was gone for five full minutes, damn!
"Your friend is back, let's cheer up a bit, hm?"
He chuckles lightly, stirring his coffee as he finally breaks the prolonged eye contact which made you feel naked. Whew, finally that was over. You felt molested by him even though all he did was say some creepy shit.
But... condition. Hm... You'd need to do more research about him. Maybe then you could finally understand why you felt so unnderved by this guy.
And perhaps even try to get rid of the constant stress in your mind. Which would be him, obviously.
He seemed to know so much about you yet you know almost nothing about him. This was really not an optimal position for you.
"Haha! Did you see a ghost or something? You look scared as shit!"
Your friend jokes, taking her seat beside you as she goes back to eating her cake.
Yeah, she was right. You did just see a ghost. And this ghost was sitting right at the table together with you two.
Damn it, this was really the worst.
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FUCK YES!! sorry but I absolutely called it! Lucifer is a silly guy!
Excessive ramble/theory tid bits ahead!~
How can you look at him and think he won't be a silly little guy? People saying he'd be a big intimidating scary king of hell? No way dude just look at him.
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And like the way he looks so upset in Ep1 when he lost his ability to create. That's not the face of a guy seeking revenge and filled with anger, that dude is just plain ol' depressed. The way he slowly just walks off screen...
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Lilith on the other hand? She is the definition of girlboss.
She's out here inspiring all the demons. Look at that power. She's in control. She's in charge.
While Lucifer's in his depressive state she's out here trying to lead all of hell. She's vengeful, (ik reds are quite a common colour in Hazbin Hotel) but the way it emanates in a glow behind her combined with her pose. It's just shows so much power and malice. You cannot convince me otherwise that she hasn't been pulling the strings since day 1.
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I'd even go as far as to say she was the one who had the idea to tell Lucifer to give Eve the apple. Just look at her stance as she stands back to see Lucifer going over to Eve, overlooking the plan. She knows what's up.
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(Also just a note but Eve looks so sad here. Girlie is trapped with Adam like she's in her own personal type of Hell. Btw I'd like to throw a theory out there that Eve and Lilith are sisters)
Ngl I do think Lucifer and Lilith split because of this whole power dynamic. Like Lucifer just couldn't keep up with Lilith's ideas or didn't believe in them. Like, Lucifer tells Charlie in Ep5 that Hell and it's people are terrible. This contradicts Lilith's whole thing of wanting to round up all the demons and potentially lead a fight. She THRIVES in Hell. For Lucifer, it's just constant punishment.
I feel like Charlie despite looking up to Lilith, is experiencing quite a bit of miscommunication. They both want to save the demons but in different ways. Charlie's way being through redemption but Lilith's maybe being through a war against Heaven.
Now it's just figuring out where the hell (pun not intended but enjoy) she's been for the past 7 years. (Honestly, I think she's just been off plotting with Eve.)
Another side note, but like the way Alastor just stares at this portrait in the pilot for such a weird prolonged amount of time is not helping my Lilith and Alastor theories calm down. Bro is the radio demon and is broadcasting everything back to Lilith.
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He 100% sold his soul to Lilith, tried breaking free, but couldn't.
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toji-bunny-girl · 5 months
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𝙎𝙖-𝙏𝙤-𝙍𝙪
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CHARACTER— yandere!gojo x fem!reader CONTENTS— yandere themes, stalking, hidden camera bear thingy, slight angst? IDKK gojo is just gross asf, noncon, intoxicated!reader, worshipping kink, DELUSIONALL‼️‼️‼️, slight fingering idk, sex yuh A/N— enjoy this masterpiece I wrote months ago (I no longer have the ability to write as good as I did) kinda weird but I literally had this dream a few days ago of a guy kidnapping me and bruising my ass with his initials 💀💀 scary asf and I remembered it hurts like a bitch anyway I have an exam later on so wish me luck 🤩 (repost)
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The lustre of his eyes glimmered against the reflection of the screen, his face turning rubicund was evidence of the blood rushing underneath his cheeks. Sweat flecked across his palms, marginally soiling his pants when he rubbed his hands on them.
Your eyes stared straight into his, and he thought your orbs must be of millions of blended colours for them to glint in iridescent. The sliver of rays from the screen pierced his irises, and he swore the sight of you must be cleansing his soul.
He sucked his lips as you played with the toy bunny’s hands, and a smile reached your face before you pressed the soft toy into your chest, clutching it in your arms as you sighed something. Something that started with Sa and ended with Ru. His mind must be playing tricks on him, right? It couldn’t be that—
Then there it comes again, the cadence of your voice, the shape of your lips, and his name that you whispered. Sa-To-Ru.
The Sa whose eyes would only trail behind your wake, the To that breathed just for the air that you exhaled, and the Ru that didn’t believe God lives in heaven, because there was you, his Goddess that walked the Earth amongst the sinful humanity.
Satoru. He thought he had never loved his name even more than that moment.
But he found himself wrong—oh so wrong.
You sounded even more euphonious sprawled out before him, intoxicated with alcohol on your tongue and in your veins—not a clue about where you are and what’s going on. All you could gather was the familiar mop of silver in your foggy sight, and how the world seemed to be on vertigo.
The bits and pieces of recollections you could grasp onto in your besotted state were the hours spent drinking bottles of liquor, giggling at the charming jokes and teases from Gojo. Then the clashes of teeth and his hands on your chest, the long ride up an elevator, and stumbling onto a bed that smelled like him.
“My name…” he panted when his head rose from your jugular—marked and claimed through teeth and tongue. “Say my name,” he repeated, pressing his lips against your jaw as he took in a drag of your ambrosial scent, long fingers pumping in and out of your squeezing cunt.
You frowned, moaning into the torrid air that bubbled around the two of you and arching your back when an orgasm tumbled through, warmth pervading through your core when pleasure glitched over your body like static.
His name doesn’t read past your lips, but your groan of pleasure was enough for him to render him halcyon. Lining his painfully pulsing head to your slick entrance, the dilatory push of his fat tip into your folds made a cry ripple through both of your throats. In you he found warmth that tasted like divinity; the forbidden fruit between the thighs of his Goddess.
He didn’t dare move, afraid that your grip would tempt an orgasm in him to soil your quim with his load. His thumb drew circles upon your clit, trying to mitigate the tight clench of your cunt in the wake of your previous orgasm.
Your muscles finally relaxed in a few rubs, and he let his length ease into you, your hole still pulsing and spasming as his cock filled your insides. Gojo’s chest fluttered with rapture as he groaned for your name, almost as if he was trying to have you look at him, fully sober instead of laying crumpled on his bed.
But you don’t, your eyes remained still shut, and only the little whimpers and cries that fell off the edges of your lips denoted your senses still awake yet torpor from the inebriation.
“Please, look at me?”
You groaned when he benignly lifted your jaw, his sense of deify for you felt through his cold fingertips before his lips meld into yours. Your mouth lax open, letting his tongue taste the heaven off of yours and swallow your saliva of ambrosia down his throat.
When he withdrew from your face with a dense cloud over your heads, he found the hues of your orbs peering into his summer’s blue sky, your eyelashes fanning the heat over his cheeks. His heart jumped and paced, and he was sure you could hear his heartbeat. Could you?
“Satoru…?” you whispered. The tang of liquor blazing strongly in your system, but you still managed to recognise him. “Wha–Where are we? And wha—”
You were cut off from your words when his lips crashed into yours, and his hips began pistoning in and out of you, your moans jumbled between your dancing mouths before sizzling in the hot air. Your walls tightened around his girth as he pumped deep into you, his cock throbbing and threatening ejaculation, but he would rather abnegate himself from pleasure if you hadn’t succumbed to it.
Every stroke of his swollen head against the bump of your g-spot made you gasp and cry with the stimulation, palms desperately attempting to push the weight of the male off, but it simply came to piteous futility.
At his last stroke, your squirting cunt squeezed his cock tight and wet his pelvis, and his load began filling your inside to the brim, thick spurts of cum shooting at your cervix as you screamed his name.
The Sa who you could taste on your tongue, the To who swore you’re the lone fire to his loins, and the Ru who promised to never let your divinity step a single foot out of his door—your temple, to walk the earth soiled by sinning humans.
Satoru—the priest to your Holiness.
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gyustarzzi · 5 months
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ateez react to you flinching in a argument
☆ hongjoong
-  was about to grab his jacket to leave after the argument which scared you when he lifted his hand up to grab it behind you - heart shattered when he saw you flinch - would try to apologize but couldn't because you already ran off to your room - leaves the house to collect his thoughts
" Please just..give me some time "
★ seonghwa
- when seonghwa was about to put his fingers on the bridge of his nose, it was so fast that it scared you a little - his anger quickly metls away when he sees you flinch - feels so bad that he starts to cry - you hug him instantly and you both apologize - you guys would go to bed and try to forget about it
" I would never hurt you in a million years, please don't think of me that way "
☆ yunho
- doesn't know how to feel when you flinch from his big movements - stands there staring at you with tears in his eyes - can't look you in the eyes because he thinks of himself as a monster - has to have you comfort him to calm him down
" I don't want you to think of me as a monster "
★ yeosang
- never usually gets angry so this is first time you've seen him yell at you - was trying to point out his opinion with hand gestures which freaked you out and made you flinch - he feels absolutley horrible since he made you feel that way - would try to comfort you as much as he can
" I know I might seem scary but the truth is, I could never lay a finger on you "
☆ san
- when he was running his fingers through his hair out of frustration - you flinch back covering your face - steps away from you since he doesn't want to hurt you/think he's going to hurt you - cries knowing he couldn't make you trust him - would hold you close when you hug
" I failed as a boyfriend and I'm sorry for that "
★ mingi
- since he has a loud voice he gets really loud in a argument, which kinda scares you - quiets down when he notices that you flinched - stares at you hurt like you just died - instantly apologizes and hugs you - cries in your embrace
" I don't know what got to me but I'm really sorry. Will you ever forgive me? "
☆ wooyoung
- he gets to carried away and can say some hurtful things and can get a little over hand - almost hits you which scares you, making you cover your head with your arms - when you tell him to leave he feels heartbroken yet hatred for hisself almost hurting you - would wait outside until you come out looking for him - cries like a baby when you guys lock eyes
" I thought I almost lost you, and I hate myself for almost hurting you"
★ jongho
- he's very muscular which scares you about what he could do - when he points his finger at you, you flinch covering your face - when you open your eyes he stands there motionless, almost like his soul has left his body - you hug him apologizing and saying that you knew he would never hurt you and that it was just a reflex - still can't get over it
" I could never hurt you, even if it was a big argument, I would never put my hands on you "
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astonmartingf · 1 month
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SLOWLY ; LH44
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— after all the years you’ve been together with lewis as friends, you realize what lewis means to you
amgf mentions of break downs and panic attacks, crying, realizing feelings are overwhelming and it's just too much for reader but don't worry it's fluff 🫶 enjoy because wow i loved writing this, also tried my hardest not to make this like my other lewis smau and i hope i did that. anyways, enjoy!!! the next part we're going somewhere special 😉👍
masterlist
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“Nico! You’re here at Lewis' party? I missed you so much, I have no one to talk to— Lewis is busy yet he’s always around. What if… what if I start seeing him in some type of way? Or am I drunk? I’m not drunk aren’t I? Maybe I am… a true friend wouldn’t have feelings for a friend right? OH MY GOSH! What if it was Lewis all along? I mean, I don’t mind, look at him? But… ARRGGGHHH! I have so much to say, but I can’t say it. Not to his face… I really think I’m starting to like—”
Do you have an unhealthy attachment to the voicemail Nico sent you four years ago of your drunken confession to admitting to having some type of feeling for your friend, Lewis Hamilton?
Yes.
Does Nico constantly remind you of the said confession four years after?
Yes.
Is it haunting your mind? It’s haunting your mind, soul, and heart— because as much as you hate to admit it, the feelings are starting to follow you, four years later. All your drunken word vomit to Nico was slowly following you throughout the years and it’s only then that you realize the culmination of all your deepest and darkest thoughts about Lewis.
That after all those years of friendship and platonic love… it might be him.
As time passes by you’ve fully integrated into yourself that Lewis would be an integral part of your life, in your formative years you stuck by each other up until the occurring present, and soon you figured out you’d still be friends with him in the future. He was always there, it was understandable.
But it wasn’t until you fully grasped that he was always there, and he might never go away.
“So have you thought about it?” Nico breaks your train of thought, sitting on the carpeted floor of his daughter’s playroom wearing tiaras and tutu skirts, playing tea party with the teddy bears Lewis gifted them last Christmas.
“I’m not thinking about Lewis.”
“That was an awfully quick answer, didn’t even mention him in the slightest.” You blink, dropping the “cup of tea” handed to you. “What did I say?” 
Nico sighs in front of you, picking up the plastic tea cup, placing it back on the table, whispering something to his daughter before removing the wand from your left hand and whisking you out of the room.
“Is everything okay?” Nico asks, pulling one of the throw pillows into your lap, eagerly waiting for your response.
“It’s scary— these feelings I’m bearing. I don’t think I can handle it, I want them gone.” Your words are void of emotion, but your eyes tell a different story as tears start pooling your eyes, heavy and slowly out of breath, shaking your head in disbelief.
You shudder as Nico pulls your arms together to your side, forcing you to face him— you stare at his eyes, slowly blurring at the tears blocking your view. “I don’t know what to do, I don’t want it. It’s all too much for me, this— this feeling, it’s uncomfortable, I don’t like it.”
“It’s new, but it’s still the same. It’s still the same Lewis and he won’t ever change.” Nico tries to comfort you, but you’re spiraling way too quickly to make sense of it all.
“No it won’t! I like him, things will be different from then on, can’t you see? I’m ruining it all, and once Lewis realizes that he’ll leave me for being a bad friend. It’s all my fault, I like him and I hate myself for it. I can’t believe it, all those years will end up with me being alone all because I like him. And now, I can’t even— I don’t want to look at him. I’m disgusted and disappointed at myself for even thinking that I have a chance, every moment I’m with him I look forward to the next, and it’s all new to me, I don’t like it Nico!” 
You catch his daughters peeking from the playroom, fully unaware of the volume of your voice. They probably didn’t expect their aunt to break down in their house on a random weekday, yet here we are. You laugh bitterly, wiping the tears in your face. “I’m scared Nico, I don’t know what to do.”
Nico holds his breath out nodding slowly, comforting you, “Yes, I understand… it all seems scary, these big feelings— it’s new. But, remember it’s still Lewis. I don’t think he would want you to be all alone as well.”
It was the last straw, the cumulation of all your feelings summed up to one— after Nico left and Lewis being avoidant about the situation, it left scars around you. You realize not to bring it up, and thinking of your own feelings and over analyzing down the “what could have beens” in your head, you went ahead of your own thoughts, slowly pulling you in a never ending spiral of destruction.
“I’m home! And guess who I met on the way?” Watching you bursting into tears on the couch in front of Nico, still adorning the tutu skirt and plastic tiara on top of your head was not the sight Lewis and Vivian were expecting when they came in.
Nico put his hands out defensively, “It’s not my fault— okay maybe I was part but I promise you I was just helping her. Not helping her cry, I just said some things that made her emotional— okay no. It wasn’t my fault I promise you, YN was just saying something and I said it wasn’t true, I just assured her. I promise I didn’t make her cry, she did that to herself.”
You burst into laughter all whilst rubbing your eyes dry, “Hi Vivian… Lewis— I swear it wasn’t him. It’s all just me being silly.” Nico gave you a pointed look, assuring you your feelings are very much valid and not silly, but you just shake your head in dismissal.
Lewis approached you, slowly wiping the tears of your face and pulling onto the strings of your heart. If you had any more tears left to cry you would’ve bursted then and there again, but you wouldn’t do that in front of Lewis. “Are you sure? Or are you just saying that because we’re here? I’m sure Vivian doesn’t mind if you tell us the truth, did Nico make you cry?”
You laugh resting your face onto the palm of his hands, “He did make me cry, but I assure you it was out of the goodness of his heart. It was either me crying or possibly passing out, I’d rather cry my heart out.” The mention of almost passing out leaves Lewis more worried than Nico being the reason for your tears.
“Darling why? Are you tired? Do you want to go home?” Go home. Home being Lewis’ apartment just a floor above Nico's. As much as you want to rest, close your eyes, and forget about all of this, you couldn’t bear being alone with Lewis yet.
You shake your head, “No… I want to play with the kids, Nico pulled us out to talk for a moment and then I had this breakdown, I want to stay I promise. It might help distract me from my own thoughts.”
Lewis, still wary, lets you off to play with the kids as he helps Vivian and Nico in the kitchen. “So… care to tell us what happened?” Nico presses his lips into a thin line before shaking his head.
“Sorry but this is about YN, if you want to know you ask her yourself, I doubt she wants to talk about it yet but don’t worry. It’s nothing alarming, I promise you— she just needs time to think about it more.” 
Not convinced, Lewis presses on the issue, “She’s okay though?”
Nico laughs, “She’s more than okay! I think it’s only going to get better from here on. It was just an enlightening time for both of us, more for her, but don’t worry Lew, things are looking up from here on.”
Sitting with the kids as you continue your interrupted tea party, they shower you with hugs and comforting words before instructing you how to play tea party with them. Peeking from the door of the playroom, you catch a glimpse of Lewis in the kitchen with Nico, not before sending a small smile and waving in your direction.
You smile back at him, and to yourself. Nico was right.
It’s still Lewis— things may be looking fast for your feelings, but one thing’s for sure. You’ve been slowly falling for Lewis since then.
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erwinsvow · 3 months
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𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞
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summary: lying to rafe is never a good idea.
author's note: eeee! back to writing for my man <3 this can be seen as a sequel to suit the mood of my soul as it follows the plot a little bit but not really, as there's no direct mentions of pogue!reader in this! i just wanted to write a little about what rafe would be like if he find out you lied/what he would do... :) inspired by @princessbrunette for the dad/kid trope she writes about and this one!
now spinning: prisoner by the weeknd & lana
word count: 3.8k
warnings/tags: smut! rafe is a lil scary in this one but it's okay <3, gripping/bruising, face slapping as punishment, daddy/dad usage for rafe and reader is called kid a lot.
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“So, what’d you do the other night?” Rafe asks you the question quietly, and he sounds different than usual.
You haven’t really noticed the change yet though, so you act like you always do around him—a little dumber, not as vigilant, and using your brain less overall.
That’s the best part of being with Rafe. He makes all the decisions for you, he figures out what to do and when to do it, and you really don’t have to think around him. At first you were confused, if not a little worried. Did he think you were stupid?
But then you realize this is how he is—so overpoweringly, overwhelmingly dominant that you have no choice but to succumb.
So you go on, unthinking, saying what comes to mind. 
“I was with you, Rafey, did you forget already?” It comes out with a laugh, making yourself comfortable against his chest.
He’d just come over less than an hour ago, after dinner with his family, he had said. He always spent the night after doing anything with his family, because they made him angry and you made him feel better. At least, that’s what he always said.
So it’s easy to attribute his difference in demeanor, the strangeness surrounding your normally nice boyfriend, to a bad dinner with his family. He must have been more upset than you thought.
“Hm,” he says, slowly, curtly. “Is that right?”
“Yes, Rafey, dinner and the ice cream? Remember it melted all over your hand?” Your face flushes even thinking about it—because immediately following that incident, you had licked his hands clean. 
“Yeah, I remember. You have a good memory, kid.” 
You beam at his praise for a second, leaning your head up to stare at your pretty boyfriend for a second. But he doesn’t look down at you the way he normally does. He doesn’t look at all, instead his gaze is still fixed on the television, which is still playing one of your silly rom-coms quietly in the background. 
“Rafe?” it comes out like a whisper, but he ignores you, his grip on your arm tightening while he continues to stare off, not at you.
“Try to remember something else for me, kid. Night before last, what’d you do?” 
You freeze under his touch. Your entire body goes rigid, eyes wide, lips parting. You want to speak, but nothing comes out.
Then, Rafe looks down at you. 
“Can’t remember now? Should I refresh your memory?”
You don’t need him to refresh anything. On the night before last, Sarah had asked you for help with something in the Tannyhill library. You had gone to help, because this was more than just Rafe’s sister, she was your friend too, but when you got there, you were confused. Sarah was there, but so were all the Pogues you had seen around town, seen with her before. 
They were all digging through the shelves, looking for something in the library, and Sarah called you over because everyone in the Cameron house was aware of the fact that you knew this library like the back of your hand. Months of babysitting Wheezie and not having anything to do had led to this very situation. Until you became Rafe’s, that is, because ever since then, you haven’t had to spend another moment alone. 
So then you helped them search for whatever it was they were looking for, and when your phone went off with a message from Rafe, at Sarah’s urging, you lied and said you were at home with your parents.
The Pogues found it eventually, after almost two hours of combing through shelves and trying your best to organize them the way they were. You went home, texted Rafe goodnight, and thought that was that.
It wasn’t a lie, you tried to convince yourself. It was a fib, really, because you just didn’t want him to worry even more when he had so much going on. And it’s not like you knew what Sarah was even up to, she said it was just a little project. 
You didn’t realize what kind of project until now.
“Um, Rafe-” you start, really quiet.
You falter when you get a better look at the expression on his face. It’s the first time you’ve ever been on the receiving end of that look—anger, disappointment, frustration.
Your eyes get watery, immediately. It’s just a natural reaction. 
“You think some tears are gonna get you out of this?” he questions, and you feel your breathing getting heavy, your cheeks getting wet.
You shake your head quickly. You don’t want him to think you’re crying for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry-” comes out before you can stop it, and you try to use the sleeves of your hoodie—Rafe’s hoodie—to wipe the tears away, thinking it’ll be better if he can’t see them any longer, but he grabs your wrist before you can.
You’re pinned in place, his hand gripping you and holding you down, the weight of his body on yours. It’s all you can do to look up Rafe with your wide, wet eyes and hope he listens to you. 
He’s never been mad at you before, so he doesn’t know how to react. You’ve always been perfect to him, for him, and he’s never had to do anything more than take your cheeks in his hand and lock eyes to make you realize you’re doing something wrong.
He didn’t think you could be capable of doing something to hurt him, to get in the way of everything he’s planning, not when you’re so compliant and docile and perfect all the other times. 
You have a collection of pretty dresses and skirts, ranging in lengths and sizes, and you always wear the right thing. Modest, longer dresses that stop above your knee and start just under the necklace you never take off—the necklace with his initial on it—when you’re invited to dinner at Tannyhill with his family.
Shorter, small skirts when he takes you to the club or the bonfire. Short enough that people are staring, not short enough to give anyone a view of what belongs to him.
In his bedroom, it’s just his clothes—shirts to sleep in, hoodies when you’re reading a book on his bed while he finishes his game at the desk, nothing more than one of your tanks and a pair of his boxers when you’re getting antsy and horny waiting for him to get back to bed when he’s on an important phone call. 
He’s never had to tell you any of that—you just do it, you just know it. He doesn’t have to tell you to go wait on his bed for him without complaining. He doesn’t have to tell you he doesn’t like when his friends are seeing parts of you they aren’t supposed to. But most important of all, he didn’t have to tell you to stay away from those dirty Pogues and his annoying sister. You were just supposed to know.
“You’re sorry?” he questions, and you know he’s mocking you. Rafe’s gone quiet, which you’re not used to because Rafe never gets mad at you. You didn’t even think it was possible.
He lets go of your wrist, which flails next to your side. His grip is replaced quickly as he squeezes your cheeks together, fingers pressing hard against your jaw.
“You’re sorry, really, is that all? You lied to me. You think that’s okay?”
Your breathing gets hard and fast under his touch. Your eyes get watery again, trying to say something but it’s silenced between Rafe’s fingers keeping your mouth shut.
You shake your head as hard as you can. You just want to explain yourself—it seemed so harmless when you were doing it. You didn’t want to worry him. You didn’t realize what you were doing. You’d never do it again if Rafe will forgive you.
Then you get scared, eyes wide and blank while your boyfriend stares at you, looking so upset and angry you wish you could reverse time and take it all bank. You worry that he won’t forgive you, that he’ll end things and leave you alone, and the thought itself is so frightening you start sobbing and shaking.
Rafe’s hand leaves your face because he gets surprised at your reaction—he thought you’d be telling him something he really, really doesn’t want to hear, but true to your perfect form, you say exactly what he does want to hear. 
“I’m so sorry Rafe, I’m so sorry, they asked me for help but I would have never done it if-if I knew it would hurt you or make you upset, I-I didn’t know-” It all comes out in a ramble, hurt coating your words and tears streaming down in rivulets down your pretty face.
He’s worried he might have gone too far, scared you too much, but you jump back in his arms the second he’s let go of you, face pressed against his chest and his shirt getting wet. 
“I’m so sorry, please don’t break up with me, I’ll never do it again, I’ll never even talk to them again, I swear, I promise-” 
It’s instinctual, Rafe wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He wonders how he did this—changed the sweet, pretty girl he met on a trip with Wheezie to the library into the girl in his arms now—utterly dependent, crying because of him but not making a single move to defend yourself.
Instead you believe everything he says and you’re sobbing because you don’t want him to leave you. He wonders again, thinking about if he should regret what he’s done to you. 
He doesn’t.
“Shh,” he comforts, and you lean into him further. “S’okay, it’s okay.” He rubs your arms soothingly, ignoring the red down further on the limb, which is inevitably a bruise forming. “I’m not gonna leave you.”
When the words leave his mouth, you melt against his chest like butter, and he grips you tight.
“I’m sorry, kid, I am, but I have to make sure that-that, you don’t do something that could mess up everything I’m working on right now.” You mewl a noise of protest, but he quiets you down again. “Even if it’s an accident, baby, even by accident. You don’t know the things I’m trying to protect you from. I can’t let you get hurt like that, so when you lie to me about something like this, it just upsets me, because I’m working hard for you—for us, and you see that, don’t you?” 
He feels you nod your head slowly.
“I’m so sorry, Rafe,” and he lets out a heavy breath. You cling to his every word, wondering how you could have been so, so stupid, as to lie to your boyfriend. 
“It’s okay, kid,” his hand moves to your back, rubbing circles on the soft skin, hand tucked under his hoodie and above the waistband of his shorts that you’re wearing.
“Do you forgive me?” you ask, lifting your head a few inches to look up at Rafe, wet eyelashes floating up to reveal red-rimmed, puffy eyes.
He looks down, wondering just how much he’s messed you up.
“Of course I do.” Rafe leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You let out a sigh of relief, too soon. “But you have to promise me a couple things, hm?”
“Anything, anything-” it spills out of your mouth, like you can’t get it out fast enough, looking back up at your boyfriend with big eyes, trying to use your hands against his chest to lift yourself up. 
“Promise me you’ll never talk to those Pogues again.”
“I promise.”
“And that you’ll never, ever lie to me again.”
“I promise, Rafe.”
“Good girl.”
He does that thing again, the thing that has you melting in his hands and allowing him to call all the shots. He reaches out to take the back of your head in his hand, leaning you in for a kiss, and you let him do it, just like you let him do everything. 
Rafe kisses you hard, his tongue in your mouth and trails of spit around your lips. When he lets go, you feel him bit down on your bottom lip, and you yelp against his mouth, but it’s silenced because he pulls you into another kiss.
You’re breathless by the end of it, crawling into his lap because you don’t want it to end, craving a lot more than just a kiss and the press of his hard dick against your clothed pussy. 
When he pulls away, you make another noise of displeasure.
“Really?” he questions, and you know it can’t be good. “Do you really think you deserve this dick now? After that shit you just pulled?” He holds you in place on his lap, stopping your grinding motion with his firm hand. Your face heats up immediately, because you know that you don’t. 
“‘M’sorry, dad,” your murmur against the soft skin of his neck. “You already forgave me…”
“Not getting out of this that easily, kid,” and he pulls you by the hair, making your shoulders tense up as you moan again in discomfort. “I think you need to decide your punishment, hm? You’ll get this dick once you get punished.”
You want to scream in annoyance, because Rafe always knows what he’s doing, and right now he’s doing it on purpose. You can feel his hard-on, and if he let you do what you wanted, you’d fall apart in minutes, but he won’t, because he never does.
So you don’t say a thing, because you can’t ever be a brat to Rafe, not for anything longer than five minutes, and you crawl down, off the bed, sitting on your knees on the ground while Rafe adjusts himself to face you from the bed. He looks down at you, perfectly in place, nose still a little red from crying. 
“So, how many?” he questions, watching you stare up at him with big eyes.
“Five,” you start, until you see how Rafe’s looking at you. “T-ten, sorry, ten.” 
“Good girl,” he says, stroking the side of your face with his hand. “Five on each side, hm? That’s what you meant to say, right?”
“Yes, dad,” you murmur back, in a daze at the feeling of Rafe’s hand on your skin.
The first slap, on your right cheek, is light, lighter than you’re used to. It was barely a tap, and you think quickly, while staring at your boyfriend’s face expectantly, if not a little dumbly, that it was nice of him. The next three are harder, and the final one stings. You’re sure it’s red where his hand was, a part of you even hopes it left a mark.
“Five left,” he says quietly, maybe more to himself than to you. You nod, a little too eagerly. “Yeah, kid, you like this? I knew you would. Little freak,” Rafe breathes out. You cling to each word like it’s praise. “Ready for the other side? Yeah?” You nod again.
He’s harder on the other side, maybe because he realized you can handle it. You’ve gotten much harder slaps than these before, but Rafe forgets sometimes, so he always starts gentle. On the ninth one, your eyes get watery. On the tenth, the tears roll down again. Rafe takes his thumb and wipes it across your cheek, like it’ll soothe the sting. 
You go to unbuckle his belt immediately after, thinking you should make him feel good first, as a part of your punishment, but he stops your hands before you get far, taking you by the shoulders and lifting you up into his lap again.
“What’re you doing?” you question quietly.
“I should ask you that.”
“Y-you said I don’t deserve it yet, so I was gonna make you feel good-”
“I didn’t say that, kid,” he says, pressing his big hand against your neck. 
“Yes, you-” he looks at you sharply, and you shut up mid-sentence. 
“No, I said you’ll get it once you’ve been punished. Punishment’s over, hm?” His hand slips underneath your hoodie—his hoodie—and he starts to lift it up. Your hands go up, helping him ease it off. Once it’s discarded on the floor, you lean in for another hard kiss, hands around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist. 
“Easy, easy,” he says, pulling away for a second. “Have to breathe, remember?”
You shake your head and whine, pushing your lips together again. Rafe moves you quickly, your back thudding against the bed and him hovering over you.
You scramble to get rid of your shorts—his shorts—but Rafe’s hands come up and stop yours before you can. Locking eyes with you, he takes them off himself, until you’re fully exposed and lying naked against his pillow.
Another kiss, another whine. You pull the front of Rafe’s shirt.
“Take it off, please,” you whimper, because you just want to get him naked and get on with it, but the tantalizingly slow pace he’s setting is killing you. 
“Really gonna tell me what to do right now? When I’m being so nice?” Your head shakes but you don’t know if you mean it. “Okay. If that’s how you wanna be, okay.”
He flips you over in one motion—your stomach hitting the sheets before you can process it. You don’t hear anything except the rustle of his hands on his belt, the clink of the metal falling, and a groan from Rafe.
And then you feel him—feel what you’ve been begging for this entire time, the nudge of his tip against your folds. Your whole body tenses and your walls clench in anticipation, but Rafe doesn’t move. 
“Rafe—!” the whine leaves before you can think about it. Rafe’s hand reaches out to grab you by your hair, pulling your head up, his mouth against your ear. You feel your nipples harden and pebble in the air, every part of your body craving something, some touch, some movement.
“Y’know, I thought you were gonna be such a good girl,” he starts, and you feel your walls flutter. “But you’re acting like such a slut today. But it’s okay, I’m gonna give you what you want. Then you’ll be good as gold, won’t ya?” You let a whine at the thought, before Rafe lets go and drops you back onto the bed.
In one thrust, Rafe pushes himself in, and your entire body tenses up at the feeling. The stretch of your walls hurts, no matter how used to him you get, and your bones feel like putty. You can hardly hold yourself up, when Rafe starts fucking you at the brutal pace he’s set. 
The stinging of your face disappears from your mind completely while Rafe batters your pussy, his hands on your back, pushing down while you arch up. Your cheek rustles against the pillow. Nothing comes out of your mouth except whines and moans, and the occasional cry when he goes even harder.
“Just needed this dick, huh, kid?” he chokes out, pressing your face into the pillow and watching his dick slide in and out of your pussy—coated in your cream, leaking down and making a mess of his sheets. “Ain’t that right? I asked you a question.”
He grabs your hair again, lifting you just enough so you can speak. 
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes-”
“That’s what I thought-” and he pushes your head down again. “J’needed to be set straight, hm? You won’t ever lie to me again—” Your voice is a mess of garbles and whines, not making any sense but wanting to agree with Rafe so badly. 
Rafe’s fucking you like he hates you, and you don’t have it in you to stop and make sure he doesn’t actually hate you, because the only thing you can think about is making sure he doesn’t stop.
“Or maybe you will,” he starts, in between thrusts. “Just wanna get fucked like this, don’t you? Wasn’t enough for you to get it gentle, right, kid? You’re my little slut-” 
Rafe’s hitting that part of you that makes you see stars—unrelenting, over and over again, but it’s all of those things together—the feel of your nipples rubbing against the bed, how full you feel inside, and especially the words he’s saying—that push you over the edge. You fall apart crying, body shaking, letting out a muffled dad, dad, dad against his pillow. 
He doesn’t stop there, though, riding you through it and then pulling out, just long enough to flip you back over. 
You’re sensitive all over, your walls clenching around nothing while you stare up at Rafe, and then back down to where the two of you were connected. He grips your cheeks again, pushing himself in and staring at your fucked-out face.
He’s way too close to still be fucking you—especially raw, like this—but it’s not until you start speaking that it’s a big problem. You sound all jumbled up since he’s holding your face way too tight, and when he loosens his grip, words fall out of your mouth and he realizes what you’re saying.
“Want it inside, dad, please, please, please, fill me up—” And he finishes, leaning over you and filling your pussy up, just like you asked for. He doesn’t stop for what feels like hours but could only be minutes—you mewl at the feeling and gasp when he pulls out, cum leaking out of your hole and spoiling the sheets even further.
Rafe’s breathless, collapsing beside you and in a much better mood, because he doesn’t complain when you fall against his chest and press your face into his neck. 
He lets you sit like that for a little bit, catching your breath and letting your heart rate return to normal. 
“We made a mess,” you comment, still feeling gushes of his cum spilling out of you. 
“We’ll get it in a minute.” 
He can practically hear your thoughts, buzzing through your little head at a mile a minute, wondering what to say, how he feels, if he's still upset, probably wanting water and a shower too.
You move a little, just to get more comfortable, when Rafe grabs your face again. The side of your jaw is red from where he keeps grabbing you. It’ll leave a bruise tomorrow. He doesn’t care because he’s not planning to let you out of his sight for the foreseeable future.
“Don’t lie to me again, kid. Got it?”
“Yes, Rafe,” you breathe out. "I got it."
“Good. Now let's finish this stupid movie." Rafe lets go of your face, and wraps his arm around you. 
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title: Weakness is For Fools (PT 3)
author: sciencebecameouraddiction
fandom: hazbin hotel
rating: PG
genre: Angst with a happy end
pairing: Alastor x Reader (Use of Y/N)
warnings: Alastor is not with it on this, unhinged, confused and a bit of back story sprinkled in. Rosie is also not having any of Alastor’s shit. Alastor may be OOC
summary: Alastor had never felt this before, and he swore he would never have a weakness.
← PART 2
╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗
“Alastor standing there in an apron is scary.” Angel murmured watching as the Radio Demon set plates down on a table.
“The only reason I’m standing here is because Rosie told me she made sure the food was edible.” Charlie added on watching from the bar.
“I still have a bad feeling about this…” Vaggie murmured. Husk grunted in agreement.
“C’mon Vaggie, we have to give him a chance, even if it is scary.” Charlie said, walking over.
“Do you want some help setting up or anything?” Charlie asked Alastor. He started to respond when Rosie peaked her head out from the corner.
“Nope! He’s got it all covered, don’t you Alastor?” Rosie asked, feeling like a mother of a century old being.
“I-I have this, my dear. Go back and relax. It’s the-“ He looks physically ill as he says “It’s the least I can… do. After everything.” Charlie nodded and left.
“Okay, did Alastor get replaced? This is like 180 for him.” Angel commented, taking a sip of his drink.
“I think more than his soul is gone now. Maybe like his frontal lobe?” Husk asked.
“Oh! A lobotomy! I had one of those alive.” Nifty pipes up manically chuckling as everyone looks down at her. Angel just pats her head as she scurries off.
“I’m really not sure. Maybe he feels bad?” Charlie added.
“Not gonna bring back Y/N though.” Husk mentioned. “It would be a miracle-“ Just then Husk was cut off and the door opened as you walked in. You smiled as you saw your friends and they all called your name.
Rosie came and stood off to the side and when you saw her you ran up to her and hugged her. “Rosie, oh my gosh, I’ve missed you!”
“I’ve missed you too ya little sweetheart. Glad you could make it to dinner.” Rosie smiled.
“Oh I wouldn’t miss it for the-“ You stop and stare seeing Alastor come around the corner holding what looked to be a pie. “World.” You finished softly, your hand gripping Rosie’s shirt tighter. Alastor looks up, wondering why it was quiet and immediately sees you. His damn heart flutters at the sight of you and grimaces at the feeling. He takes a step forward, not knowing what else to do, but stops when you take a step back from him. His eyes widen and he holds up his hands in mock surrender and leaves around the corner. Rosie sighs and then looks at you.
“Don’t you worry about him.” She says and brings you over to the table. “This is an apology dinner but it’s also so you and your friends can talk.” You nod and sit, everyone coming to the table as Rosie goes into the back kitchen where all the food was. That’s when she hears quick breathing and when she sees Alastor in the middle of a panic attack.
“Alastor?” Rosie asks gently.
“I-I can’t do this. Why can’t I do this? I’m the Radio Demon for fucks sake.” He growls, hands pulling at his hair.
“Because you’re scared.” Rosie gently says, pulling his hands away from his hair and smoothing it out. “You’re scared that they won’t accept your apology, even though you need them to, you’re not sure you want them to, because you feel you don’t deserve it.”
Alastor looks up shocked. “How?”
“Because I know you, honey. You’re my best friend.” Rosie says plainly. “Even if you are a little daft sometimes.” She sighs and grabs the last few bits. “They consider you a friend whether you like it or not Alastor, figure out if you consider them friends, and then apologize.” She says and walks out. Alastor grabs the drinks and carries them out, the conversation not dying down when he entered this time. Somehow, the only seat open was next to you, and you were engaged in a fully heated discussion with Husk and Angel on who the best housewife was from a show you all three watched. He sat down next to you, and just watched, looking to Rosie who smiled at him. A part of him, the small part he thought he buried, turns out he didn’t, wanted to leave. He had never felt more alienated and alone.
A glass clinging tore him from his thoughts as he looked up to Charlie. She thanked him and Rosie for the food and the preparations tonight and then handed the floor off to Alastor. He cleared his throat.
“I-“ He sighed and looked at Rosie again. She nodded in encouragement. “I am sorry.” The collective gasps were distracting but not as much as Angel pulling out his phone trying to film. “Angel, I do not wish to be recorded by your device, put it away before I snap it and then eat it.”
Angel’s eyes widened and he quickly put it away. “I am sorry.” Alastor repeated, as he did, he felt the old Alastor fall away, almost like a shed of skin from a snake. In its place stood something raw and something new. Something he had no idea how to navigate. To this version of himself, his… friends were important.
“I was wrong to be as horrible as I was a few weeks ago to all of you. It was inexcusable.” There was silence so Alastor took that as a sign to continue. “I… value… each one of you. And Y/N?” He asked you specifically. Your head whipped up. “I am especially… sorry… to you.”
You look at Alastor and the whole table seems to be waiting on your reaction. You get up and walk over to him, his eyes widen and he steps back a bit, but you follow until you are right in front of him. Your eyes searching his, when you suddenly wrap him in a hug. He freezes and slowly wraps his arms around you, relaxing in your arms.
“You’re an idiot.” You murmur to him.
“That’s the third time this week I’ve been called that.” Alastor murmured.
“It fits.” You quipped back. Alastor sighs and looks at you.
“I am truly sorry.” He says.
“I know. I know you are.” You say, nodding your head.
“Does this mean you’ll move back to the hotel?” Charlie’s asks, sliding up to you both. You look between her and Alastor, his ears perking up a bit.
“Yeah, as long as my room is still available.” You say, joking.
“Oh, you don’t have ta worry about that, toots. Smiles here made sure no one but him even went near your room.” Angel laughed and you looked at Alastor. He glared at Angel.
“Had to make sure it was ready for your return.” He whispered.
“You just assumed I was coming back?” You asked, gently bumping his shoulder with yours. He looked bewildered for a second and then shook his head.
“No. No. But I… Hoped.”
╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝
← PART 2
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Eyes Up Here
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: Eddie notices you struggle to look him in the eyes... and works to fix that.
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: Nothin much, just a couple kisses and a little dom energy sprinkled through it. Maybe a little bit of condescending tones. Lots of pet names and no use of (y/n).
A/N: I need more Eddie requests yo lol
Tiny taglist: @zestychili
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"Babe, am I ugly?"
The question made you violently scoff as you scribbled notes on your grocery list. You didn't bother to look up, you could hear the slight playfulness in Eddie's voice. Yet, you weren't quite sure what he was getting at. "Of course not! Why the hell would you think that?"
He leaned forward to his elbows on the kitchen table next to you. "'Cause you act like you don't want to look at me half the time."
Your pen hovered over the paper for a moment before you stole a quick two second glance at him.
Yep, his face was smug as ever. He was picking on you.
You looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You literally just did it," He badgered. "Come on, I don't bite."
"Much," You replied.
He barked a laugh. "Okay, I promise not to bite at all if you just look at me for… I don't know, thirty seconds."
"Ed's, come on, I'm busy." You could feel an anxious knot tightening in your gut.
"Why won't you do it?"
You closed your eyes. "I can't. You know I get nervous."
"I know, I know, and I really love that about you," He pulled his chair up close to yours and gently rested his warm hand on your thigh. "But I also love your cute little face and pretty eyes looking at me. You don't do it often enough."
You sighed, feeling the tug of war in your brain. His eyes were pretty too, and you always thought the shape of his nose was adorable. You wanted to stare at him more, you really did. But to have him staring right back at you? That made you feel the most vulnerable. It was intimidating, really.
Eddie could sense your quiet discomfort. He hooked his hand under your knee and pulled your leg to drape over his. "The eyes are the very windows to the soul," He drawled in a deeper tone as if he were DMing, making you smile. He leaned in close. "And, m'lady, your eyes have everything that my own soul thirsts for."
You couldn't help but giggle, shaking your head at his antics. He always tried flattery just to see you get flustered.
"Come on," He purred with a smile, putting a hand to your opposing cheek. "Can you be good and look at me, sweetheart?"
The war in your mind froze, like Eddie had taken the remote and pushed pause on your thoughts.
Be good.
You wanted that. You really wanted to make him proud.
Slowly, you let your head be turned by the pressure of Eddie's fingers on your cheek. However, even when facing right at him, you simply stared sheepishly down at his chest biting on your lip.
"Good job," He hummed, his thumb stroking your cheek slowly. "Just a little more, pretty girl. You're so close, just look up at me."
You started to, getting to his neck, his chin… then hesitated. Your own neck was going tense, joints freezing up without your consent. Letting out a breath of defeat, you leaned forward and collapsed into his neck with a groan.
"Oh nooo," Eddie trilled, putting his hand to the back of your head. "Princess, you were so close! Am I really that scary?"
You shook your head, nose nuzzling into the smell of his skin and cologne.
"Can we try again? Just one more time?" He asked, leaning his head down to your ear. "I know you can do it."
"Do I have to?"
"I mean… I suppose not," He droned, "But if you're a good girl, you'll get a reward."
Your posture stiffened slightly at the offer, knowing what the reward would be, then you slowly pulled yourself upright again. You inhaled deeply, really trying to hype yourself up.
"Don't hurt yourself now."
"Shut up!" You laughed hitting him in the chest you were still staring at. "I'm really trying here."
He tilted his head. "Want me to help?"
"How?" You asked, looking downward at your fidgeting hands.
"Easy. All I gotta do is…." He slipped a finger under your chin, tilting your head up slowly to angle right at him.
Then pursed your lips and snapped your eyes shut.
"Aww, you're just being difficult now, aren't you?" He condescended, "Don't want to be a good girl for me? Huh? Don't you want me to reward you?"
For some reason, that was the kicker. A spark of defiance forced your eyes open at a moment's notice. Eddie's dark irises held tiny reflections of yourself in them as well as a little sparkle that was painfully and wholeheartedly him.
"There you go!" His expression lit up with joy as he sandwiched your head in his hands. He held on as if he was trying to keep your head from falling off. "That was all you needed, huh? A little positive reinforcement…. Oh, you're doing such a good job looking at me. God, I love your eyes."
"Shush or I'm not going to be able to hold it," You giggled, butterflies relentlessly tickling your stomach.
He shook his head as he grinned. "No, no, I'm going to make you hold it. This is too good…. Like looking at the stars themselves."
You caught yourself breaking eye contact again, but this time to look down at his soft plush lips.
"Ah, ah," Eddie tapped the side of your head with his finger. "Eyes back up here."
Although begrudgingly, you obeyed. "Eddie…"
He smirked. "You'll get your reward, just give me a bit longer. I haven't memorized the color of your eyes just yet."
After not even ten more seconds of staring into his dark irises, you caved with another groan. This one more out of impatience than discomfort. Falling into his neck again you whined and kicked your foot in frustration.
His chest rumbled with a laugh. Once again, his hand was on the back of your head. "Oh I know, I know, sunshine, I was pushing it. You did so good. Here, come here—" He gently grabbed a hold of your jaw, turning it upwards to meet your lips in a kiss. It was clear he was giving you a 'thank you'. Sexy was one way to put it, but the energy of it was softer than sex. You found as well that he lingered in it much longer than usual, and that was met with no complaint from you. You simply closed your eyes and returned the same loving energy.
You both let out satisfied breaths over each other before the spell had finally been broken, Eddie pulling away first with a grin on his face.
"You alright there, babes?"
Your eyes remained closed, the feeling of his lips on yours like that leaving you in a daze. His warmth always sent your insides spinning.
"Again," You whispered, putting your hand up to his head to pull him in.
He leaned downward once more, only to collide his forehead with yours instead of your lips on his. "Nope, those kisses aren't free. You gotta look at me to get them."
Still in a lovestruck fog, you lazily opened your eyes. You were obviously looking into his face, but being so close made his features an absolute blur. It was clear, though, his eyes were open, mere inches from yours.
"Good girl," He mumbled before leaning in to gift another kiss.
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