Tumgik
#abused reader
Note
If you still take requests can you do a yandere Spinel with a reader who's been abandon and abused so much she doesn't seem to care? (which would definitely confuse spinel initially)
She’d find it disturbing
don’t get her wrong she’s over the moon that your returning her love without struggle but she also can’t help but look at you and think
This is wrong they shouldn’t be happy about this I literally kidnapped them took them away from the ones they loved and their acting like nothings wrong
and then of course she would do some digging and find out about your past. All the truma the abuse and she can’t help but see herself in you A creature created in a world it didn’t understand left broken and shattered and now clinging on to the smallest ounce of love it can get. But she would never be able to bring herself to leave you she knows what it’s like to be left and she doesn’t want the same thing to happen to you. she just loves you too much to ever let you go
no matter how much the little nagging voice in her head tells her this is wrong
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lilianvanrouge · 1 year
Text
Malleus and Lilia x Frail and Abused Reader Part 1
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Ever since you’ve arrived here at Night Raven College things have been a bit better for you. Though you worry about your two younger brothers and your father back at home.
You wear the standard Night Raven College uniform and your uniform color is yellow. You’re 166cm (5'4) tall, which means you’re that bigger than Riddle. You have short turquoise hair with a black streak on the left side of your hair like Jade. You look like a boy, dressed like one, but your voice was an immediate dead give away. Your personality was a dead give away too. You’re very shy, quiet, gentle, humble, empathetic, and too kind.
Right now you were outside with your class for physical e.d. with Mr. Vargas.
“Alright you bunch of weaklings we’re going to run some killer laps today!!” said Mr. Vargas.
Everyone except you started complaining.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!! It’s like over a hundred degrees out here!” complained Ace.
“I don’t want to hear it!! Now all of you- Start Running!! But (Y/N) you stay here and do some stretches and jumping jacks. Vanrouge, I want you to stay by his- I mean her side! There’s a cooler of water bottles for her if she overheats. If that’s not enough out her in the shade of the tree,” said Mr. Vargas.
You were glad you were in the back hiding where no one can see you. Everyone was angry at you. You were happy until-
“Oh? Who’s (Y/N)?” asked Lilia.
That’s when Mr. Vargas dug through the crowd of students and pulled you out in front for everyone to see.
“This is (Y/N)!!” said Mr. Vargas.
“Ooh. Okay!” said Lilia happily, while the rest of the students glared at you.
You were so embarrassed and blushing so badly you got light headed. When everyone started running, you were now alone with Lilia. A short while has gone by and you were struggling to do sit ups as Lilia held your feet down. You were gasping and wheezing as your stomach and ribs were hurting.
“Wow! You’re really out of shape. You should join Silver and Sebek as I train them,” said Lilia.
“Thank you, but no thank you,” you laughed.
Lilia started to notice how red you were and that you were sweating an unhealthy amount.
“How about we stop now. I’ll get you some water,” he said, uneasy.
You struggled to stand up and mumbled, “Thank... you...”
You fell forward and Lilia caught you.
“Thank... you...” you mumbled again.
“Maybe we should sit under the tree,” Lilia said concerned.
You were both now sitting in the shade of the tree drinking water. You couldn’t help, but notice that Lilia looked red too.
“Lilia, are you okay,” you asked.
“Yes, it’s just that my skin isn’t built for sunlight, and it doesn’t make it better being hot,” he said.
You frowned feeling bad for him. You now understood why Lilia is the only only one who wears a visor. Gym was soon over and your best immediately ran over to your side. He was your best friend and your next door neighbor back at home.
“(Y/N) are you, okay?!” he ask really concerned.
“I’m fine. Just a little headed,” you said.
“Remember, on days like the doctor said you have to go to the nurse’s so they can fluids into you. Let’s go, now so you’ll only miss half of Mr. Crewel’s lesson,” (Y/B/F) said.
“What a shame. I love his class,” you mumbled.
“Yeah, but your health comes first. You can’t enjoy class while unhealthy now can you?” he asked.
You gave a smile, knowing he was right. (Y/B/F) always took care of you. He forcibly made it his business to look after; however, this worried you a lot because you knew this built on stress for him. But his grades says otherwise.
You were currently lying on an infirmary bed with a tube in your arm are providing you fluids. (Y/B/F) sat by your side the whole entire time watching over you. After you had a snack and rested after your treatment you went straight to class with (Y/B/F) by your side. When you made it class Ace and Deuce chewed you out for having to watch Grim for you, but you knew they were getting used to it.
“Good girl!” said Mr. Crewel. “After being over thirty minutes late for class you’re getting everything right. The rest of you bad dogs should learn something from her!”
You blushed embarrassed, knowing that you were smart. But since you and Grim shared grades you were struggling to keep a low B. Class was soon over and now was your second favorite part of the day, lunch. Like any normal person you loved food, and since for your poor health you have a special medical card and note, which allows you to get more food than anyone else.
You were about to eat lunch when (Y/B/F) dumped a bunch of vegetables on your tray.
“You can not just eat junk. You need some vegetables,” he said.
“What are you to (Y/N) anyway (Y/B/F). You’re acting like your her mom,” said Deuce.
You flinched and trembled at the mention of your mom, but only (Y/B/F) saw this.
“Seriously, has Riddle been rubbing off on you?” said Ace.
(Y/B/F) took great offense to this, since Riddle often scolded him considering he’s also in Heartslabyul. You sighed and ate your lunch slowly with all your friends leaving before you. You told (Y/B/F) to leave, and obliged knowing better than to get you upset.
“Ooh! Eating lunch all by yourself now?” said ???
You then saw it was Lilia floating above you upside down.
“Hi, Lilia,” you said.
Lilia groaned seeing that you weren’t startled. Never the less he floated down and sat with you.
“You know if you’re lonely you can always sit at my table,” Lilia said, happily.
You looked over at his table and saw Silver and Sebek. You kept your smile, yet you sweated at the offer. You held onto your arm and politely declined his offer. Lilia took notice on how you held your arm and gently prided away your hand.
“Hey, what are you-” you said.
He then saw the bandage on your arm from the fluid injection.
“What happened?” he said concerned.
“Nothing, I just needed more fluids in my system,” you tried to laugh it off.
Lilia frowned and sighed, “You should really take better care of yourself. How about you have some tea with me tomorrow?”
You shuddered at the thought of going to Diasomnia alone, but you couldn’t as well lie to Lilia since he was trying to be sweet.
“Uh... Yeah sure... I’m not doing anything tomorrow afternoon,” you muttered.
“Great!” said Lilia with a big smile.
He then disappeared leaving you cold.
“What have I gotten myself into?” you said to yourself.
It was now nighttime, your favorite part of the day. You called your brothers on the phone to make sure they’re okay and to ask questions about your father. Everything they told you sounded normal and safe.
When the phone call ended your heart was aching thinking about the tea party at Diasomnia. You were down right terrified and couldn’t tell (Y/B/F) otherwise he’ll make you call it off or call it off for and you didn’t want to make Lilia sad.
“What have I gotten myself into?” you asked yourself, before going to sleep.
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morgansunflower · 1 year
Text
Blood Does Not Always Make A Family
Dad! Dick Grayson X teen! Daughter(not by blood)
Mom! Barbara Gordon X teen! Daughter(not by blood)
Hinted Damian Wayne X Reader
Warnings: bad physical abuse, explicit language
Words:1458
Requested taglist @too-strong-to-lose
Y/N had enough of her Dad's abuse so she go's to the two people she can truly trust.
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I can't call Damian he'll try to beat him for hurting me. I really do care about him. I'm honestly a little bit intimated by Bat's plus Grayson was more.. Fatherly to me. Grayson has always been a good friend of mine. He has always been there for me. He taught me to ride a bike when I was younger. Barbara was there for me when I first got my period. They were there for my first heartbreak even when their little brother Damian was the one responsible. He always gave me a hug when I needed one. They don't know that, my dad is abusing me.. No one does. I wanted to go to Grayson's apartment but I'm too nervous. I went to the Haly's circus. My eyes saw everything that brought me a thrilling excitement. I saw Grayson smiling out into the crowd. I wore my sunglasses with a hoodie on my head. I let my sadness leave me as, I watch the wondrous show. I used to dream about this place after a bad day. As it ended Dick went to the dressing room. He sat in his chair with the light up mirror on the desk. I walk forward my reflection in the mirror he gets up and looks at, me grinning.
"hey Y/N! What, are you doing here kid?! Like the glasses taking some of my old notes from me I see"
He hugs me I hug him back. I needed to feel safe. He probably had no idea how much I needed a hug
"I just wanted to catch the show" I lied.
"not buying that but I appreciate you coming all the way out here" he parts from me and touches my shoulder "so what's really going on? Are you ok?"
"yeah of course I am!" how do I tell him? "this is a bit of a weird question.. Can I..can I crash at your place.. For tonight"
"yeah of course! Babs and I would love to have you"
"thanks"
I went with Grayson to his apartment. Barbara brought me blankets and a pillow to sleep on the couch. I step into the bathroom and lock the door behind me. I wait to hear, them shut their bedroom door. I change into the clothes Barbara gave me. I look at the cigarette burn on my wrist, the nasty bruise on my eye and cheeks. My lips began to tremble. I couldn't take it anymore, I try my hardest not to cry. I'm lucky to have made it out without more wounds. I then start to go back to that moment. I feel my heart beating and body shaking. I can't go back! I can't. I breathe heavily as my hands feel like they're on pins and needles. I began to hyperventilate. Next thing I know the door is broken open. I screamed jolting back, thinking my biological dad had come, to make me come back. Dick held my shoulders I couldn't comprehend anything or where I am.
"shhh shhh it's OK hey, look at me. Look at me" I look at him still out of breath "follow my breaths" I mimicked his breathing "you're safe, you're in the living room.. Feel my hands. I'm right here.. I'm here. You're safe"
I nodded calming down realizing I'm in their living room. He was right there keeping me from falling. He helps me sit down I'm still quite shaken from the panic attack. My hands shake as I try to dry my tears. I sigh heavily humiliated. I'm so weak.
"don't feel embarrassed.. I cry all the time" Dick assured me softly laughing making me smile.
"he's right.." I tightly close my eyes trying to fight my fears away "it's OK sweetie. I've got you a big comfy blanket" Barbara said gently
Grayson sits beside me as I cling to him like a little frightened child. Barbara used her wheelchair to roll to us and lays a weighted blanket on me. She sits on the other side of me. Barbara gently rubbed my back and hugged me. I rest my head in the crook of his neck while holding Barbara's hand.
Dick's P. O. V
My heart is broken. Who could do this to Y/N? I feel so angered knowing someone hurt her. I then connect the dots.. We've been there for her for so long.. She didn't have her dad's support. How long has he been hurting her? Barbara leans over and kisses my shoulder blade knowing what was going through my mind. Y/N ended up falling asleep. My heart was beating rapidly with rage. I should have seen it. Babs text me on the spy-contact. I see her, holographic message
-calm down🥺-
-I'm trying-
I respond and I take a deep breath. Barbara looks at me. I text her asking her a question that would change our lives.. Forever.
Y/N's P. O. V
I open my eyes to see I'm in Grayson's and Barbara's comforting arms. I didn't want to leave but after last night. I've certainly overstayed my welcome. I carefully try to move away from their arms but they wake up. They both yawned but Grayson was more dramatic.
"you sleep OK Y/N?" Grayson asked
"Y-yeah.. I guess I should probably leave now" I said raising to my feet.
"wait don't leave.. I.. I want to help you.. We want to help you" Dick pleaded.
"I know.. But you can't.. He's going to keep doing it to me.. There's nothing you can do" I said completely defeated.
"yes there is. I can talk to my dad.. He won't ever hurt you again" Barbara assured me holding my hand.
"but.. Where do I go? I don't have any family. I.. I don't want to end up in foster care or in some orphanage for the rest of my teenage years"
"you can stay with us" Dick said.
I shake my head "no I can't do that to you two"
"Y/N we would love for you to stay with us" Barbara said she looks at Dick and then back at, me "if making extra measures to make sure you're able to stay with us.. Is what we have to do... Then--" I gasped
"are you serious?!" I nearly shouted nearly crying.
Grayson smiled and hugged me as his own tears came to surface "of course we are! I'd love for you to take the Grayson name.. If that's what you want"
Dick's P. O. V
It happened so quickly. Her dad was put behind bars. She was adopted under the Grayson name. Then I start to worry. Am I going to be a good Dad? She deserves a good family. I went to Gotham.. Maybe.. Maybe Bruce can be supportive for me. Maybe he can understand what I'm going through. I want to know the best way to help Y/N. Even with all of that, he needs to know. I walk into the study to see Bruce sitting on his office chair. I remember when I was Robin and I would lay against his chest after a long scary night.
"Grayson"
"hey B.. There's something we need to talk about" I said shutting the door behind me.
He gently nodded "yes?"
"I guess you know Damian's friend Y/N.... I adopted her.. Her Dad was abusing the shit out of her.. She came to us and.. It kinda went pretty fast after that and before you say 'I was going to' .. Because I know you were thinking that.. Damian likes her, and she likes him. Not many people see Damian for who he really is"
"I would not deem it wise for her to stay here. I'm aware of my son's affections for Y/N.. As well as she's closer to you. She'll feel safe with you and you have my full support"
"really?" I couldn't believe what I just heard "I mean that means a lot to me.. Because.. Because I really don't want to screw up. I know it will be hard sometimes" I sit on the couch "I mean I really care about her B. She's.. I love her like she's my own daughter.. Is that enough?"
I look at Bruce and I could see.. Empathy.
"I often recall asking that question to myself when doors were slammed in my face"
"I guess I turned out OK" I chuckled at his comment we've certainly had our moments, but I can't help feeling grateful he is supporting me.
"you'll be better than I ever was" Bruce said with a proud smile. "Alfred will want to make dinner to celebrate the new family member. I expect we will see all the Grayson's"
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fruitpunch-whore · 2 years
Text
other mother x unloved reader(platonic pairing)
sorry this was very rushed.
(reader is 18+)
Y/N POV
I awake to the sound of birds outside my window, the soft sound echoing throughout my empty room. The smell of old wallpaper filling my nose and I take a deep breath. finding peace in this moment, it's the little moments that keep me going. The moments without yelling, the moments where I'm alone and the only voice is my own. I sit up and stretch and wince, the belt mark from last night still fresh and barely scabbing over. I layed back down before lifting up my sleeve to reveal the bruises from her. Memories flood back into my mind as I push them away, closing them off. My peace was interrupted by a loud voice coming from downstairs.
“Y/N come down here this instant!!” my mother yelled from the bottom floor
I sat on the edge of my bed, closing my eyes tightly to find the strength to go deal with her. Finally I started walking, past the moving boxes and opened my door revealing the hallway. I walked down it looking at the pictures of my family, we look so happy together. But its a lie, all the pictures and parties are a lie. My parents aren't very fond of me to say the least. I make my way to the kitchen where i find my mother cross armed. “So, you think you can live her and be lazy huh?” she said with anger lacing her words. I was confused, i did everything she asked i cleaned and cleaned till i was exhausted. “What do you mean? I did everything?” i said but before i could speak another word she slapped me, “this! I mean this!” she said holding up a plate “you forgot to do the dishes!”. But i didn't, i couldn't have, i did the dishes. My father… he had ate breakfast before going into work, all this over a single plate.
 I feel the tears pool up in my eyes before she grabbed my hair and pulled me, making me follow her. “I'm sorry, i'm sorry i'm sorry,” i just kept muttering until we reached the closet. She unlocked it and threw me into it, my back hitting the wall with a loud thud as my back started bleeding from my lash. “I've already locked away your stuff so don't try complaining to your little friends about me, this is what parenting is. It's not my fault you keep screwing up” she said to me before locking the closet door and walking away. I grabbed an old shirt from the floor and placed it over mine to cover up the blood spot that's bleeding through my tank top.
I sat there and curled up hugging my knees, “why why why… we used to be so happy” I thought to myself before the shelf above me broke, a shoe box came crashing down in front of me. “Shit” I thought as I knew my mother would yell at me for the noise and probably do worse. I noticed something though, a key fell out of the box. I picked it up and it was labeled “closet hatch '' I heard my mothers footsteps approaching so I quickly looked around and saw behind me, covered by coats, was a small door. I placed the key in and turned the lock, it wouldn't budge and I heard her coming closer. I frantically fidgeted with it until it came open, I crawled inside just in time and locked the door from the inside. I heard my mother yell into the closet “where are you bitch?!?” 
I pressed my body into the door, so fearful I felt my legs shake. I closed my eyes tightly, feeling the tears well up in them. After what felt like forever I opened them and looked around this place. It looked… It looked like a tunnel. The walls were glowing blue and purple, I looked down and saw an adorable mouse looking at me. I waved at it and placed my hand down for it to sniff me, it jumped right into my hand and I smiled. I went to go pet the small creature and it jumped out of my hands running away down the tunnel. I crawled after it, unsure of where I was going.
After a while we came to a small door, like the one I entered through. My breath became shaky as I turned the key opening it up, I pushed open the door and crawled out. I stood up and looked around, this…this was my house. Fuck, this just lead to my living room. I heard footsteps coming towards me and I went to scrabble back into the hatch but it was closed. And my key was gone. 
“Shit shit shit no please..” i said under my breath and I ran to the corner behind my couch, I kneeled down and tucked my head into my knees as I heard the footsteps grow closer until they were right in front of me. I closed my eyes tighter waiting for a slap or a kick, but all I felt was a hand being placed on my arm gently. “Please….please don't hurt me anymore mom..” I cried out and the hand was taken off my arm. 
“Hurt you… oh my, y/n no… i love you i would never hurt you..” a voice that was sweet as honey spoke out.
I slowly uncovered my face and looked up at the person in front of me. She smiled at me and crouched down to be at my level, “w-who are you?” I said with worry in my voice, this woman. She had black hair and red lips but what really stood out was that in place of her eyes, were black buttons. Fear stuck my core as this woman placed a hand on my knee
“Why silly, I'm your mother!” she said with a smile. But this woman wasn't my mother, she didn't look anything like her and didn't act like her either. “You're not my mother…” I said keeping my distance from her. “Why love, I'm your other mother,” she said, her smile growing softer. I nodded while still being totally freaked out “come on now sweetie, dinners ready!” she said before swiftly standing up motioning for me to follow her. I stood and looked around this place more thoroughly, this place looked like my house but..it seemed more home-like. There were softer colors and it didn't stink of bleach and old wallpaper.
I must be dreaming.. This cant be real. I followed her into the kitchen and she motioned for me to sit down at the table. I sat and another person walked in, a man with brown curly hair and glasses. “Hi dear! Hi y/n! How was your day?” he said before patting me on the shoulder. I winced and tears pricked my eyes. The lash started bleeding through my shirt and tried to stay calm. I heard the man gasp and saw the woman's eyes go wide. “Sweetie… what happened” he said to me with a worried tone. “My…my mother…the one through that door she-” i couldn't speak anymore before i started crying. Through tears in my eyes I swear I saw the woman's hands twitch, claws growing out of it before going back to normal. “Honey, why don't you come with me? I can help you get cleaned up then we can eat ok?” my other mother said. I nodded and followed her up the stairs
She led me into a bathroom and twisted the faucet to turn the bath on. She walked over to a cabinet and opened it, then handed me the fluffiest towel I've ever seen. “I'll let you have some privacy dear” my other mother said before walking out of the bathroom. I undressed and looked at myself in the mirror, bruises, so many bruises. I sighed and sat down in the bath, the warm water stinging my back. I started to relax until I heard the door creak open, “oh sorry dear here's your ro-” she cut herself off and her eyes went wide, staring at me. I covered myself and started to cry. “Please..you cant tell her you saw this shell just hurt me more please..” I begged her through tears. The woman's face turned dark before back light again, “darling, she will never hurt you again.” she said, placing my robe on the door. “What do you mean, I have to go back at some point…” I said, wiping my tears away. 
“Honey, how would you like to stay here? For a while I mean.” she said with a smile. I nodded and she left closing  the door. I got out of the bath and noticed she gave me some pajamas, they were (YFC) with black trim on them. I got dressed and walked downstairs. I slowly made my way to the kitchen and sat down at the table.
“Hello sport!” said the man sitting on the other side of the table. “I'm your other father, its nice to have you home” he said with a smile, his eyes black buttons as well. I smiled at him and my other mother placed a plate in front of me, i looked down at it and then back up. The table seemed to be magically covered in food i blinked and she nodded at me signaling that i could eat. I grabbed a turkey leg and a huge scoop of mashed potatoes, corn and a roll. I ate quickly, not used to having this much food. “Hungry dear?” she asked me and i stopped. “She.. when shes mad at me she doesn't let me eat, and shes mad a lot..” i said quietly. Her hand fidgeted again. “Well dig in! I made plenty for everyone” she said and started to eat as well followed by my other father. I didn't skip a beat and began eating again.
We finished up dinner and she took my dirty plate to the sink. She turned towards me “are you tired dear?” i nodded ‘’well me and your father will take you to your room!” she said and grabbed my hand softly leading me up the stairs, my other father behind me. She lead me to a room, it was much livelier then my other one, the walls were (YFC) and my childhood toys were placed neatly in the corner. “Oh i almost forgot!” she said and pulled out something from her pocket, it was my phone! “Here you go love! You wont be able to contact anyone from the other world but you can use the internet!” she said smiling, i hugged her tightly and she wrapped her arms around me. “Thank you” was all i could mutter out, being overwhelmed with joy. 
“Well, its time to sleep dear” she said and i walked over to my bed undoing the covers. They were so soft ,i quickly got under them and laid down. “I wish I could stay here forever..” i said yawning  
“Oh of course you can!” she said before a wave of fatigue went over me. she said, stroking my hair. Before I could respond I started to fall into a deep sleep. But before i was out, i remember her saying, 
“you didn’t have an option of leaving anyways.” 
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forbidden-sunlight · 2 months
Text
yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario
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Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], obsessive behavior, implied violence, implied emotional and physical abuse, implied brainwashing, knowledge based on spoilers from the first two episodes of the 2024 series.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!
Hey guys, welcome back to another Hazbin Hotel fic, starring Hell's one and only Radio Demon, Alastor! This is a collaborative piece written with @isuckatwritingsobenice, whom I share a mutual adoration for Violet Evergarden, the anime and titular character who is in my humble opinion, one of the best written female protagonists I have seen in anime.
As always, bullying is not tolerated here. If you have nothing nice to say, please do not say it. Furthermore, if you believe the warnings listed above will make you uncomfortable, please leave now.
For those who have decided to stay, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going for tonight's broadcast :)
Alastor is someone who thrives on entertainment and chaos. Seeing the scourge of Hell striving to redeem themselves in Charlie’s hotel, only to fail as soon as they gave into the vices they’ve been trying to cure themselves of? That’s the only reason he agreed to help the princess with her passion project. He needed some inspiration after lacking it for so many decades! 
When you had arrived at the hotel with nothing except the clothes on your back and a suitcase that protected your precious Remington typewriter, the Radio Demon would not deny that he was amused to see a sinner who actually saw his advertisement on the television. After all, no one was taking Charlie seriously, and who would? Apparently you did, but for a different reason: you were looking for a job, a purpose. You said so in the interview, and you were willing to learn. When Vagatha asked what would be considered a flaw in your work ethic, you took off your leather gloves and showed her and Charlie  the alloy prosthetics that acted as your new limbs after losing them in the war.
Why you still had them and why your appearance was wholly human, you did not know. Would this be considered a flaw? You were not sure either. You are still learning about modern technology, especially the handheld devices called cell phones. 
Although the staff was in dire need of someone who could advertise the Hazbin Hotel on the Internet, the princess found something you could do and might be adequate at: gardening. More specifically, being the hotel’s groundskeeper. Someone who can maintain the hotel’s outward appearance and make sure the hell-grass or weeds don’t  get too out of control. You stood up from your seat, feet planted together and saluted Charlie, promising that you will do your best in a monotone voice.
The poor dear did get a little flustered from your actions, but Vagatha did not seem to mind, asking you to follow her upstairs so that she could show you your new room and give you the key. Your first day will be tomorrow. 
Oh, this will be fun~! Alastor thought with a wide grin. Someone new to antagonize and watch fall into the fiery pits of failure! Husk was starting to bore him anyway. 
And he was not disappointed. 
He saw you struggle with holding a garden spade, laying down carpets of fresh grass neatly without trying to crush it between your prosthetic limbs, carrying fertilizer and what flowers to plant! These entertaining events happened within the first week of being here. Is he sorry that his shadows purposely swapped the fertilizer bags and replaced the seed bags to plant roses with rat bait? Absolutely not! 
The more chaos that he created, the more entertained he will be. The anticipation to see you crumble from the pressure and expectations of dear Vagatha and Charlie is almost palpable, he couldn’t wait! 
However, you were not someone who gave up as easily as he hoped you would. 
You kept showing up every day at the exact time, and worked in the garden until Niffty had to drag you inside to have lunch. Then you stayed outside for a bit longer, making sure everything was ready for the following day. You even tried to help out in the kitchen, though you were still struggling to properly hold a knife and chop up vegetables for his jambalaya or cracking eggs in a bowl to help Niffty bake a cake at nine o’clock in the evening because she was bored and wanted something sweet. 
You carried heavy crates of liquor for Husk and even massaged his temples when he complained of a headache. When you discreetly switched out the liquor in his booze for water one time he held a grudge against you for pulling that stunt for almost a week. He eventually forgave you by preparing a Shirley Temple on the house after you politely rejected a whiskey on the rocks because you did not drink alcohol. 
Sir Pentious, the wannabe overlord, was utterly fascinated with your prosthetic limbs and had asked you to let him examine them. That comment earned him a low, menacing growl from Vagatha, spear in hand. The Egg Bois seemed to like you well enough that they tried to help you out in the garden when all they really did was make your job a bit harder. You still thanked them anyway. 
Angel Dust tried to take you shopping for a new wardrobe since you always wore the same outfit every day, but his definition of fashion bordered on risque and flaunting his assets. You were not here to flaunt your appearance, you were here to work, but you thanked him anyway. When he came back to the hotel, staggering inside on wobbly legs and his face covered in black-blue bruises, you were the one who caught him and helped him settle on a table as Husk pulled out a first aid kit. You allowed Angel to put all four of his arms around you and cry on your shoulders, carefully placing your skeletal prosthetics around his back. 
How is it that a single sinner could empathize with everyone here except him? 
This singular thought, this curious idea, is what motivated Alastor to find out more about you. And there is no else in Hell who can spill the tea on someone as accurately as his dear friend Rosie. 
A trip to Cannibal Colony was in order~!  So he did go there, proclaiming he’ll be back before dinner and ignoring Vagatha’s cursing as well as the princess trying to calm down her short-tempered lover. 
As it turned out, he had heard about you, it’s just that the topic in question did not interest him at the time. Rosie conjured up some old newspaper clippings, pointing at the image of you fighting against an exorcist in hand-to-hand combat during the Extermination. This article had been written five years ago, and the one before that? Three years ago. It seemed like you were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time, and you fought back because that is what your life had been before; surrounded by violence, vanquishing enemy forces when they crossed your path. Yet when you did make an appearance, everyone in Hell clamored for any scraps of information. Anything to find out who is the mysterious sinner who looked like a human and could rip off an exorcist’s head bare-handed. 
Now, you were staying at the hotel trying to put whatever remained of your afterlife together. That is your true purpose and now the Radio Demon knew. 
Alastor thanked Rosie for the information and the company, leaving Cannibal Colony in a merry mood. Everything was in place. Everything made perfect sense now.
If you were looking for a way to be useful in his newest project, he can make that happen. All he needs to do is nudge you in the right direction without Charlie and Vagatha around.
They are adorable when they are taking turns being a guard dog around you, you sweet little darling~. 
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ghosts-cyphera · 6 months
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Everything you write is a banger 🫶 and you are RIGHT, ghost loves sloppy blowjobs but especially the noises like loves hearing his beautiful gf gag on his huge dick while staring up at him with watery eyes (please euthanize me)
you people are being so good to me like what on earth did I do to deserve this? I love you! thank you so, so much 💕🫶🏻 also… say fucking less, my love.
warnings/content: simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader. blowjob, deep-throating, mentions of spit and tears. swallowing. slight degradation if you squint, but ghost only adores you! words: 762. 18+, mdni.
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Ghost’s calloused fingers caressed your cheek, and he lifted your head to look at him. On your knees before him you looked even softer and sweeter than you usually did.
So goddamn obedient.
From the sight, his cock—painfully erect—twitched above your face. Mere seconds earlier he had pulled it out of your throat, your lips releasing it with a soft pop: your body desperate for one of those breaths that he knew would burn your lungs from the mere intensity of your inhale.
He did love to push you to your limit. His sweetheart turned into a cock-drunk little thing. Lips glistening, eyes pleading for more. Your spit dripping down your jaw in a pretty little stream, lubing you up so fuckin’ nice and good for his use.
He’d been fucking your mouth—your throat—for so long, that by now, he knew your body felt empty without the weight of his thick length on your tongue.
And who the fuck was he to deny that from you, eh?
“Tongue out, darlin’.”
Not a hint of hesitation flashed in your eyes as you let him see the pretty pink of it. You were so goddamn fuckin’ beautiful like this: the sounds that passed your lips so goddamn pretty as he pushed back in.
“There ya fuckin’ go. Come on, luv, take it all, yeah?”
The thick weight of him in your mouth muffled out most of your gasps and moans, yet never the sound of your gags. So fuckin’ sweet, as he pushed into your throat, his hand on the back of your head helping you to align your throat better. To allow him deeper down.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell, baby, that’s it. Just like that—“
He could feel your throat relaxing around him once more. Your gags easing, your shoulders letting go of their nervous tension: the sudden ease allowing his balls to press against your bottom lip as he bottomed out.
“Fuckin’ right, doll.” He was downright seeing stars by then: your mouth so fuckin’ soft and warm and wet around him that had this been his first time using you like this, he would’ve damn sure passed out from the pure fuckin’ bliss. “My darlin’s takin’ it so fuckin’ good, yeah?”
Ghost’s fingers caressed your cheek, soft and adoring: so at odds with the mess that he was making of you. Sliding out, only to feed every last fuckin’ inch of his cock back down your throat, somehow only deeper than the last time.
“Fuckin’—eyes on me, yeah, luv?”
Your gaze found his in an instant: the beauty of your eyes only highlighted by the glimmer of your tears, accompanied by the softest twinkle of his darlin’ seeking his approval.
Your body was begging for more: only opening up further around the brutal size of his cock, allowing him to pick up his pace.
In and out: your spit running past your lips.
In and fuckin’ out, as you forced your eyes to stay locked with his. How fuckin’ scary he must’ve looked, towering over you with his goddamn mask on. 
Fuck, how he would make you feel so loved and adored after. Work so hard on showin’ you how much you meant to him.
Christ al-fuckin’-mighty.
His eyes blinking shut, Ghost leaned his head back as his fingers around your head tightened their grip. Now chasing after his orgasm, he listened to your gags and whimpers: the desperation of your spit dripping past your lips as he used you for his pleasure.
His sweet little thing.
His perfect fuckin' darlin’.
“So goddamn fuckin’ close, baby—“
Ghost forced his gaze to meet yours, and that—fuckin’ hell, that was all that he needed. Seeing the knit of your brows as your twinkling eyes begged for his cum down your throat, so fuckin’ well trained.
So fuckin’ sweet.
With a deep curse and a rumbling call for your name, his cock pumped thick ropes of his seed down your throat.
Chuckling, as your eyes watered.
Praising you, his voice low yet warm, as he felt you swallowing around him before he pulled out with a soft pop.
Smiling from pure pride, as Ghost crouched by you and drew you into the deepest of kisses, full of adoration for you.
For his sweetheart.
His little fuckin’ champ.
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rinhaler · 6 months
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Baby I Know How To Use a Gun (𝒢𝓊𝓃.. 𝔊𝔲𝔫)
✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ toxic!megumi fushiguro x f!reader
Genre: smut Notes: this concept has been making me insane for WEEKS I just had to get it down, it's icky as usual = bon apetit ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ p.s. i dont know anything abt guns uwu Warnings: 18+, dubcon, vaginal sex, alcohol consumption, cheating, toxic!relationship (they are both toxic af), gaslighting, manipulation, coercion, co-dependency, gun inaccuracies (probably), gunplay ♡ physical abuse?, pussy drunk!megumi, choking, dacryphilia, daddy!kink, bruising ♡, spanking, masochism, minor dildo use, fingering, dumbifcation, pussy spanks, scratching, breeding kink, calls your pussy ‘she’. Words: 8k (I'm so sorry)
part of my toxic lovers collab
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Nothing bothers you when you’re with Megumi. It’s impossible to feel any emotion besides pure, unadulterated lust whenever he’s with you. You were always such a prude before him. Absolutely disgusted whenever you’d see a couple hold hands or peck each other on the cheek.
It made your skin crawl when you saw couples kiss with tongue.
But he’s turned you into something you hate. You don’t care if you’re sitting with a group of friends, you couldn’t stop yourself from straddling him and basically dry fucking his thigh while making out with him. And it was worse when you drank.
So here you are now, in the back of a taxi on the way home from a mutual friend’s party. You haven’t seen Megumi in two days after a particularly vicious fight. You’d think an invisible force was driving the taxi, the way you’re kissing and wriggling around for him. You’ve rolled your hips so much that the uncomfortable driver can see a tease of white cotton between your legs under your little cocktail dress.
Megumi’s mouth is wet. A combination of sticky lip gloss and a mixture of saliva’s. He pulls away from kissing you every so often just to hear you whisper desperately for the feeling to return. He pulls little moans from you as he teases between your sodden folds.
“Knew you’d miss this dick too much to say no.” he grins before kissing you more. You laugh into it, not an ounce of remorse or regret behind it as you feel him against you. “Say you missed me. Tell daddy you missed ‘im.” he demands, grunting against you.
You ignore him, trying to shut him up with a kiss. A perfectly manicured hand traverses from his shoulder to his thigh, a subtle tease to distract him. A noble attempt results in failure when he stops playing with you and grabs your wandering wrist.
“Tell me.”
You avert your eyes, deciding to look out of the window while wiping the spit and gloss from your chin. He watches you, carefully, eye twitching as he tries to deduce what you’re keeping from him. A finger presses into that soft flesh of your cheek bending quickly and forcing you to face him yet again.
“What are you hiding?” he asks, the friendly lilt behind his voice being betrayed by the unamused sneering smile on his face. “Who did you fuck?”
“None of your—”
“Just tell me, you know you’re going to fucking spill so just do it now.” he instructs. You hear an amused scoff from him as you cross your arms petulantly and pout like a child who isn’t allowed a toy from the store. His face gets closer to yours, but you’ve already had enough of him. It’s been two days and you thought you were gonna die if you didn’t see him. But a few minutes in a taxi has reminded you why you didn’t want to see him in the first place. “Did he at least make you cum?” he whispers into your ear.
A soft breath leaves you as his hand slithers down your stomach and under the hem of your dress. You want to protest as you feel him prodding over the damp spot of your panties, but your mouth turns dry. Words turn to ash as he repeatedly tortures you with featherlight touches against your clit.
“Hm? Did your new little boyfriend make this pussy cum?” he wonders, voice a lecherous buzz that vibrates from your ear to your cunt. You fucking hate him. You can’t stand how difficult it is to stay true to your morals and self-respect when he knows every single square inch of your body and exactly which titillating button to press. “Mmm, bet he didn’t. Bet he couldn’t. ‘cause she only listens to me.”
“Megs…” you groan. Your hips involuntarily rolling up into his touch. The teasing barely there presses making your mind hazy, your body instinctively chases for more as the touch feels less and less the harder you buck. “D-Don’t stop, Megu—”
He softly kisses your lips to silence you, still refusing to continue touching you properly. You moan, a chaste sound as his lips stray from yours to kiss along your jaw like he loves you. He sucks at your neck like a fucking vampire before alternating to those sweet kisses again. You hate him, you hate that he’s trying to be something he’s not to get you to tell him your secret.
These kisses are so fucking sickly, like a stranger is forcing himself inside of your skin with each delicate press against your neck. And it’s making your teeth rot. You’re a stupid girl. His stupid girl because you’re falling for it. Your candy-coated tongue is loosening and preparing to bare your entire fucking soul to him so long as he keeps touching you and giving you your sugar fix.
His hand holds your waist, a weight for himself more than you. Two whole days away from your perfect cunt has been hell for him, and not being able to touch you is a fate worse than death. He wants to tease your pressure points until you’re dying for him. He wants your every breath to be agonising without him.
Without seeing him.
Without feeling him.
Without breathing him.
He needs your every thought and whim to be aching for him and him alone. So, he needs to control himself. By showing restraint and fighting his primal urge to make your pussy fucking purr for him, he’s keeping his hand on your waist.
You smirk as he decorates your neck in bruises, you feel the sickening smile sprawling across his fucking face. And again, you want to protest, you want to tell him what you think of him and how much you can’t stand him. But when his hand begins another journey, you can’t. You can’t as your body jolts into his touch as his fingertips tickle your ribs. They don’t stop, teasing traces of his finger cover your body despite being clothed.
How can such a light touch feel so powerful?
You try to stifle yourself as he cups your breast, the flesh and swollen nipple are exposed thanks to your decision to forgo a bra. You still have your dignity, Megumi isn’t that perverse to allow this random old driver the honour of seeing your tits.
You’re just that weak.
They’re covered, entirely, and still his rubbing and tweaking are too much for you. Your attempt to bite your lip is just that. An attempt. A feeble attempt to withhold your pleasure from him which only ends in you mewling harder for him. Your heavy, lust-filled breaths fill the cab as he rubs his thumb slowly back and forth over your nipple. His teeth bite and kiss at your jawline once more, albeit he is barely present either. He’s almost as fucked out as you are, he can’t silence his pleasure. His breathing heavier than you know it to be. His eyes lidded heavier than they’ve ever been.
“Yuuji—” you pant, your body is limp in the back seat as he feels you up. His fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thigh as he kisses your neck and sinks his head until he reaches the top of your breast. “Did you hear m— ow! Megumi!”
“Shut up.” he chides. He sank his teeth into your tit before speaking.
You stare into his emerald eyes as you contemplate his next move. That’s the one bad thing about being with Megumi.
That’s a lie, there’s a lot of bad things, you just choose to ignore them.
But you know you’ll never be as clever as he is. You’ll never be able to fully read him like he does you. He knows every move you’re going to make before you’ve made it. He can read you like a book and it fucking scares you.
“Yuuji couldn’t make you cum… you wanna know why?” he asks, his thumb strokes your earlobe between gentle pulls. It’s too sweet again, you think. There’s no way he’s this calm after finding out you fucked his best friend. He’s always been jealous. You think he’s just possessive but deep down you should know the truth. He’s scared you’ll leave him. He’s insecure and that is why he makes such a show of making it known that you are his.
“Why…” is all you can think to say. And he smiles at that. His fingers no longer toying with your ear. The way his fingers draw along your skin makes your hair stand on end. He feels no sympathy as he sees your arm breakout in goosebumps despite knowing he is the cause. And he feels even less as he wraps his hand around your pretty little throat.
He squeezes tight.
Tighter.
Tighter.
“Because you don’t belong to Yuuji. You belong to me.” he tells you, his grip is bruising. His teeth are bared as he feels your pathetic pawing, desperately trying to pull his fingers from your neck.
He’s going to kill you, you think. His voice full of vitriol and malice as he effortlessly wrings the life out of you with one hand. And the taxi driver doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to intervene because it isn’t his place.
A lovers quarrel.
That’s what he must think. You were all over each other a moment ago after all, maybe you’re just a slut who likes it a little rough.
You are, but that’s besides the point.
He probably doesn’t want to risk sticking his nose in and getting more involved than he needs to be. You know yourself that Megumi doesn’t care. He’d only tell him to mind his own fucking business.
“You think I didn’t know?” he whispers, his breath warming the shell of your ear as he doesn’t let up. “You reek like him… you smell like a fucking whore.” his words, his tone, his breath all dripped with virulence. He lets go of you, practically throwing you to the other side of the taxi as tears spill over your cheeks.
You wipe them, quickly, but the damage is done. The way you’re sniffling and trying to do damage control to your perfectly done makeup is nauseating to him. Silence fills the taxi and the air is thick. You roll down a window, the cold air lashes against your face and dries your tears as you wait to reach your destination.
--
The car pulls up outside of your apartment. You barely wait for him to come to a stop before you open the door and rush out to open the security door. The bite in the winter air has you trembling as you fiddle with your keys. The little dress and lack of coat certainly wasn’t a wise choice, but you’ll always place looking hot ahead of being practical.
But in truth, the weather isn’t the sole culprit. It’s barely bothering you, honestly. Megumi’s casual callousness and unyielding grip around your throat are what has you shaken up. It’s not the first time he’s choked you and you doubt it’ll be the last. But it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him do it with that look in his eye. A look that told you how little you mean to him. How unfazed he would be if you died by his hand.
You’re wrong, though. While you’re fiddling with your keys Megumi pays the driver. He tips him a fair amount and then follows you out, approaching slowly as he waits for you to open the door. His eyes weren’t cold because you mean nothing to him, it’s the opposite. You are everything to him. Why do you think he’s being so cruel to you? To get it through that pretty little skull.
“You didn’t answer me, princess.” he tells you, and by now you don’t even know what he’s talking about. “Did you think you could fuck anybody and I wouldn’t find out? I always do.”
“Shut up.” you tell him, though it’s quiet and meek. Your usual bravado and confidence lodged in your dry throat. You finally slot the key in the hole and turn it, allowing him to enter with you. “You said it yourself… I was always going to tell you I fucked him.”
He scoffs, watching you climb the stairs. Even now he has no shame. He’s unable to stop himself peaking up your dress to see your panties riding up your ass as you walk. You can be as mad at him as you like, you both know you’re too weak to say no to him.
He follows, eventually, catching up with ease. You allow him to take the key from you and walk ahead, unlocking the door like it’s his apartment. It may as well be, he spends so much time here after all. Most of his things are here, you’re here. Though he’s been banished for the last few days to stay at his dad’s house after your latest fight.
The door opens and he makes himself at home. He collapses onto the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and crosses one ankle over the other. You go inside, slowly, locking the door behind you and looking at him suspiciously.
“… What are you doing? I know you aren’t here for a fucking movie night, Megs, are we going to bed or not?”
“No. We’ve gotta talk first.” he tells you. You roll your eyes and leave him alone to walk to your bedroom. He sighs, annoyed, following you. “Back to being a brat? You only fuckin’ behave yourself when I make you cum.”
“Fuck you.” you sigh. “What is there to talk about?”
“You cheating on me with my best friend springs to mind, baby. We should probably clear that up, shouldn’t we?” he’s talking like it was a silly misunderstanding. Like you almost walked away with his suitcase at the airport that just so happens to be identical to yours. But nothing you do will ever match up to what he does. You can go low; but there’s no sight to the depths he’ll stoop to.
“Fuck! You!” you tell him, pointing your finger in his face like you always do when you’ve had too much vodka. “You are the reason I don’t have any friends anymore because you fucked them all! I broke up with you when I fucked Yuuji so whoever I fuck in that time is none of your business. I—”
“Baby—”
“No, shut up. I forgave you every single time you fucking cheated on me because I’m an idiot and I love you. So, stop talking about Yuuji, it doesn’t matter. We weren’t together. In fact, we still aren’t! You should count yourself fucking lucky that I’m even giving you the chance to fuck me tonight.”
He walks to you, slowly, and you don’t have the energy to be a brat anymore. You let him get closer and closer until you’re looking up into his eyes while his hand rests on your hip and the other cups your cheek. His head tilts, and your eyes instinctively flutter closed as his lips press against yours.
“I know ‘m lucky, princess. Missed you so much baby.” he tells you before deepening the kiss.
You’re too weak to be with a man like him and expect to be anything but a plaything. The hand lingering on your hip wraps around your back before down to your ass. The pudgy softness of your ass swells between his fingers, the white material of your dress warming his hands as he grips you roughly. He smirks against your lips before landing a harsh smack against your supple flesh. The yelp he extracts from you is fucking delectable. He could quite happily gorge himself on the sound and make it his life essence until the end of time.
“Daddy missed his perfect girl ‘n her perfect pussy… didn’t even fuck anyone else. No one compares to you, y’know?” he tells you quietly, almost like it’s a secret only meant for you to hear. He hikes up your leg so it’s settled around his waist, your other instinctively follows so that you’re completely in his hold. He walks you to the bed, his mouth suffocating yours and you can’t think of a single coherent thought as your brain feels starved of oxygen.
You giggle as you fall onto the bed, your shoulder blades against the mattress while he presses his weight fully on top of yours. He keeps a thigh between both of yours, and he revels in how pathetically you’re rutting your hips against it just to satiate the slightest bit of tension formulating at your core because of him.
Your arms wrap around his neck and you slip your tongue into his mouth. The moaning sounds trapped in your throat break free and he devours them as he feels you up in every way he can to make your mind dizzy and drunker than vodka could ever make you.
“Do you believe me?” he asks, breaking the kiss to see how needy you are. Your eyes give you away in an instant, filling with water the minute he pulls away. You feel so in love with him when you have your arms around him like this. When he’s caging you in like you’re his property.
You are.
That’s how he sees you, and that’s how he makes you feel.
No matter how dehumanising or fucked up, you just don’t care. You wouldn’t want to belong to anyone but him, anyone. And isn’t this what the main goal in life is? To find your person? To fall in love and be adored so wholly it makes you insane?
You feel that with him.
He feels that with you.
“N-No…” you confess. You aren’t scared of him; you never really have been. You’re scared of what he can do to you. You’re terrified of how strong he is and how unyielding he is in his pursuit of having all that he wants in the world with a cherry on top for presentation. But he doesn’t scare you, not really. Not enough to hide how you really feel. “Why would I believe you when you’ve cheated so much?” you ask.
He’s a little surprised by your brazenness and resolve. Usually with a little kissing and humping you stop caring about what kind of a person he is and what he’s done to you in the past. You aren’t scared; but you’re making him feel fear.
“Mmm, baby. You really need to cum, hah? Is that why you’re bein’ so dumb f’me? Can’t think because you need to cream for daddy…” he insults you with ease, and your brows knot into a bemused frown. “Awe… you’re s’cute when you’re confused, baby. Jus’ let me touch you, don’t think too hard. I forgive ya.”
“W-Wha?” you hum, the determination to continue questioning him falls silent as he pushes your panties into the crease of your thigh. The breeze rolling through the open window causing a shiver to roll through you and truly feel the difference between your freezing body and the sopping warmth betwixt your thighs.
“You said you didn’t cheat when you fucked Yuuji. So how can I cheat if I fucked other girls at the same time?” he asks. “I didn’t, though,” he spreads your pussy lips open and collects the ever-dampening slick on his fingers. He buries his head beside yours, kissing and breathing against your ear as he swipes softly over your throbbing clit.
“But you—”
“I fucked my fist ‘n thought of you.” he whispers, his fingers not stopping the lackadaisical stroking. “Whenever I got hard… jus’ thought of your pretty cunt swallowin’ me and made myself cum so fast. Looked through your Insta feed ‘n your selfies, imagined cumming all over your face.”
“Fuck.” you keen, hips bucking wildly in search of more pleasure than his modest touches. You fully wrap your arms around him, kissing him passionately and he begins to pick up the pace. “I love you.” you mumble, like the pathetic person you are. He grins and bites your lower lip before kissing you deeply.
He’s got you right where he wants you.
“I love you, baby.” he confesses, though you’ll never know if he really means it. Maybe he loves fucking you and loves having a pretty little trophy on his arm to call his and show off to his friends. Maybe he loves the idea of you and what you can do for him in terms of looks and status.
But is he in love with you?
You can only hope.
All you can do is hope he never lies to you. He never hides his cheating from you, you think he’s always honest with you so is it possible he can actually love you when he says he does? It’s enough to make you cry. Knowing that you’ll never really know makes you feel sick with an excruciating desire to make him.
You have to be his perfect girl.
You have to take all of the negatives that come with loving Megumi Fushiguro.
He stands above you on his knees, reaching over you to grab some pillows to place under your hips. You wriggle and squirm in his absence, awaiting his return to you. But you forgot about the pillows. Your head snaps in the direction he’s reaching as he picks up the two nearest pillows to him. Any attempt to object would be fruitless now that you’re too late.
Your body fills with heat and shame as he lifts the pillows to see a purple, silicone dildo beneath where they once were. The laugh that escapes him is boisterous as he looks between you and the toy. You shield your face with your hands, almost ready to cry, and his laughing doesn’t cease.
“This is pathetic, princess. Did you even fuck Yuuji? Or did you just spend the last two days riding this stupid thing?”
“I fucked him!” you protest. You reach to grab the purple dildo from his hand but he’s too fast for you, still far too amused by this discovery to let up on teasing you. “He did make me cum, by the way—”
“You are a fucking liar.” he snorts. “Bet ya hurried him out of here so fast so that you could stuff this purple cock up yourself and pretend it was daddy fuckin’ you. Bet you were tryin’ so hard to cum and you couldn’t.”
“I hate you.” you sniff, attempting to grab the toy once more to no avail.
“You just told me you love me. So again, you’re fuckin’ lying to me, princess.” he continues.
You feel his body press against yours once more as he cages you in. You just watch him and prepare for whatever he’s about to do. There’s no point in trying to fight him when you know you’ll always lose. You cringe, slightly, as he starts to trace the tip of the cock over your swollen lips. His own mouth widens, a silent action, he’s coaxing you to mirror. And perfectly, you do.
You’re almost certain you see a heart-shaped twinkle in his eye as he softly pokes it in and out of your mouth, enamoured by the way your tongue instinctively swirls around it. You see more of his sharp canines the further he pushes it in. And it’s a full-blown snarl as he shoves it down your throat until you’re sputtering.
“I fucking hate you!” you yell and grab the toy quicker than he’d anticipated, snatching it from his grasp. “Get off me, now.” you command, pushing him off you. You know he let you when he moves away effortlessly. If he wanted to keep you trapped, he would.
“You’re so easy to tease.” he smiles.
You ignore him completely as you stand up. He watches you intently as you pull open the second drawer of your nightstand so hard the entire cabinet shakes. He tries to steal a peak of whatever other treasures you might be hiding in there, but you kick it closed before he can torment you any further.
“Awe, you’re no fun. Not gonna let daddy see what other toys aren’t good enough? Can show you how to use ‘em when you’re missing me.” he grins, he gets closer to you. Close enough to smooth his hands over your sides as you glare down furiously at him. You grab his hands, basically throwing them back at him.
“You are such a dick all of the time. I actually can’t stand you; I hate you.” you tell him, knowing yourself it’s a weak response even for you.
“You’re always such a good fuck when you’re pissed off.” he smirks, he takes off his shirt and throws it aside. You do your best to keep eye contact with him, not wanting to let your eyes wander and rake over his chiselled body. He sees you steal a few glances; he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. “Stop bein’ such a brat. Don’t be embarrassed, daddy thinks it’s cute that you touch yourself.”
A black silhouette in the drawer is stuck in your mind. Despite your cunt growing wetter and your thoughts becoming cloudy, you can think of nothing else. He is a dick. And part of you does fucking hate him. So, you open the drawer again. He doesn’t watch you, this time, he’s more focused on reading your body language now. What are you thinking? What’s on your mind?
“’m really pissed off, daddy.” you tell him with confidence. His body stiffens like a corpse as you pull a gun from the cabinet. A Glock 40. He does all he can to maintain his composure, to remain control of the situation and of you. But it’s clear he’s worried. He’s never seen you like this before, ever.
But he knows you. He knows what you’re thinking before you even do. He can read every little muscle pulling on your face. It doesn’t matter if you’re trying to look angry, he knows what you look like when you’re really angry. You’re pissed, sure, but you certainly aren’t capable of doing any real damage with that thing. Not on purpose, anyway. And definitely not with the way your hands are fucking trembling.
“You gonna kill me, baby?” he asks.
“I might.” you tell him, you can feel the way your hands are shaking while gripping onto the gun. There’s no question he’s noticed, too. You’ve made a declaration by standing here like this, willing to toy with his life as well as your own. You can’t just put it away and pretend nothing happened, you need to make some kind of statement or you’ll never here the end of it.
He’ll ridicule you ‘til his dying breath.
“How?” he asks, getting closer to you. You back away, but you’re against the wall before you know it. He sits on the edge of the bed, his feet planted firmly against the ground so you know he can lunge at any moment.
“I’ll shoot you…” you speak, he hears an unintentional warble in your voice, and you can see the fucking smirk stretching across his face at the sound. You fucked up, he knows you don’t have it in you. But he’s probably known the whole time.
He grabs your wrist, and you yelp. Your eyes widen in horror as he moves your hands so that the gun is aimed at his chest.
His heart.
“Here?” he asks, and it’s so casual, you think you might throw up. You want to protest, to snatch your hands away and tell him to stop being so stupid. But you can’t, you can’t give into his mind games now. You can’t. Your hands are tremoring as he moves the gun again, resting it right between his eyes. “Hm… here? Probably the quickest. Won’t leave much mess if it gets stuck in my brain.” he explains.
“Stop it.” you mutter, he can feel the way your hands are trying to get free from his hold but he’s much too strong. “I’m s-sorry, stop it, please.”
“Could make me swallow a bullet too, but I don’t think you’re gonna shoot me anywhere.” he smiles, forcing you to aim at his perfect, gleaming teeth. “Where the fuck did you get this anyway? You really are stupid.”
“My dad gave it to me!” you inform him, and you’re aiming at him with new courage and will. “I know how to use it; I have a license.”
“Your pussyof a dad got you this?” he laughs.
You shove the gun against his teeth, not taking kindly to him insulting your father unprovoked. He looks up at you with a heavy-lidded gaze, he’s never been so attracted to you, really. Seeing you do all you can to stand up to him but both of you ultimately knowing you will never truly be a match for him, it’s quite interesting. Arousing, even.
He widens his mouth, allowing you to slot the black chamber between rows of white. The blinding contrast is almost enough to make you consider what you’re doing. Are you sure you want to do this? You are dangling his life in your quivering hands, after all.
“I should make you choke on this.” you whimper a little, a tear finally rolling down your cheek and giving your true cowardice away. You aren’t going to hide it this time. There’s no point in trying to clear away what he’s already seen. And you have no intention of holding a gun with just one hand when you’re already so shaken up.
He grabs your wrist, shocking you, but you don’t falter. You watch him carefully as he sinks his mouth down the chamber until it hits the back of his throat.
You hate him.
You hate how easily he can take any ounce of power you feel over him and turn it to nothing but a grandiose idea. A fleeting thought that you could make him tremble and weep before you. Maybe even apologise and promise to change because he’s the one scared of you for a change. But you should have known he’d never let you have that over him.
Hell, he won’t even let you embarrass him.
“I should fucking kill you.” you start to cry, thinking back to how he’s treated you tonight alone. He hasn’t even broken a fucking sweat. You thought you might be able to humiliate him like this. Making him choke and sputter around the gun like he’d made you with the dildo, just to see heat sear through you and add to the already burning shame you felt having been caught.
But instead, you watch him as he takes the gun as far as he possibly can. His stare is still lidded and hazy with lust and adoration for you. He does it a few times, repeatedly, and somehow still with a fucking smirk on his face.
He holds your hands still, pulling away from the gun as an obscene amount of drool pours from his mouth and down his chin. And then, he finally does begin to hack up choking breaths. Despite it being almost entirely on his terms, the feeling of cold, hard polymer clogging up his airways proved to be too much for even him to withstand for too long.
“Did you really think you could embarrass me like that?” he asks, sincerely. “You really are pathetic.”
“Megumi I—”
“Good thing you’re daddy’s stupid little girl, my pretty li’l airhead.” he grins, snatching the gun away from you. Your back slides down against the wall as you watch him fiddle with the gun, pulling out the magazine with a sadistic fucking snarl on his face. “The safety was on the whole time. And there aren’t even any bullets in here. You’re s’fucking stupid. It’s adorable.”
“I can’t do this anymore.” you sob into your hands. He watches you for a moment, not an inkling of remorse lingering in his body as he sees you crying inconsolably. You feel his fingers dig into your arms and pull you towards him.
Quiet protests die the instant he throws you down onto the bed. You’re underneath him once again, but you feel even more trapped as he shows no intention of letting go of the gun. He aims it between your eyes and you can’t stop crying.
His choking was unrelenting in the taxi.
And now he has a weapon that could end your life in an instant.
But would he? Is he capable?
“I’m sorry… I love you, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” you weep, you don’t think you’ve ever cried so loudly or so hard in your life. You wouldn’t be surprised if a vein was bulging in your forehead, and you can without a doubt feeling a migraine bursting through your brain. But you can’t stop, you can’t stop crying. “Megumi I love you, I’m sorry.”
You know it’s empty and you know the safety is on because he told you so. And Megumi is always honest with you, isn’t he? And still, you’re panicking. You’re worried that he’ll pull the trigger and somehow wills a bullet into existence simply because he often gets what he wants in life.
He keeps the gun aimed at you until your head is resting on the pillows still remaining against your headboard. He’s donning a facial expression you’ve never seen from him before. A stoic yet somehow manic stare as he watches you cry and plead for your life beneath him like he’s some sort of God.
His expression doesn’t falter as he turns the gun and aims it at his temple. You’re screaming now. You dread to think what your neighbours think. It’s not like they’ve never heard you two fighting and fucking before, but it must be concerning for them to hear.
“Megumi I’m sorry! Please!” you wail, fear stabbing through you as you see him begin to shake. You close your eyes, expecting the worst yet still begging with him to see sense and stop this.
He lowers the gun again, his eyes wander to follow it as he drags the cold weapon between your clothed tits and down your body. You shudder as you feel him use it to move up your dress and exposes your still bare cunt, having not moved your panties back into place.
You feel the chilled polymer dip between your folds.
“P-Please…” you beg, hoping he won’t put it in you. Your eyes screw shut as he moves it, sliding it through your soaking flesh again and again as butterflies soar through your stomach. He pulls the trigger, the vibration almost assaults your clit, despite the empty clacking filling the room. “Hnnff—”
“You’re so wet f’me… or is it just the gun? Is it turnin’ you on, princess?”
“N-No, please. I don’t wanna play with it anymore, d-daddy.” you tell him, each hitched breath you take scratching your throat. Your cries still evident as you gasp and plead with him to finally stop. You should never have pulled it on him, you should have known he’d do this.
He moves from you, opening the drawer you’d taken it from and puts it back inside. Even though it’s gone, out of his reach, you end up crying tears of relief as he places gentle kisses against your forehead and cheeks.
“You’re such a good girl, y’know? Did so well… proud of you, baby.” he whispers, and you hate yourself. You hate yourself because you’re brimming with confidence after he tells you he’s proud. Your heart crescendos to a place you know there’s no going back from now. Even after almost threatening to end your life; you’re still in love with Megumi Fushiguro.
You’re too tired.
Emotionally exhausted and physically defeated. There’s no fight left in you anymore as you feel him carefully peel away your dress from your body. He rolls the top down to your midsection, exposing your breasts to him and your still hardened nipples. He does the same with the skirt, fully revealing your glittering cunt and what a drippy mess he’s turned you into.
No one makes you wetter than he does.
He pushes your thighs apart, and lightly spanks your pussy to steal a quiet whimper from you. It’s not a punishment by any means, he just wants to make sure you’re still here with him. Still relishing this moment. Still honoured by the fact he’s even giving you the time of day to play with you like this. To satiate the burning need to be toyed with until your mind goes blank. He’ll do it for you, and it’ll take no time at all.
He kisses down from your left knee towards the apex of your thighs. He’s admiring his handiwork on your body as he does. Purple bruises he left you before your last fight have begun to turn greenish yellow as they heal.
You love his little reminders of who owns your body.
He hurts you so good. And you wouldn’t feel conquered without the bruises that his tenacious touch bestow upon you. You sink into the mattress as his tongue laves over the doughy skin of your thigh, reminding you where every single bruise is.
You gasp, back arching off the bed as you feel him insert a thick long digit into your sopping entrance. He’s slow, prodding and twisting deeper and deeper. He can make you cum like this, and you think you might gush as he teases the sweet spot buried within.
“What are you—?” you start, watching him push your legs further apart as he suckles at your clit. You feel the fingers on his free hand trace along your skin, the sensitive bruises almost pulsating beneath his touch. The way your head throws itself back seems like an out of body experience. An involuntary response to the way his finger pokes harshly into a particularly nasty looking bruise. “Hnng— fuck, daddy!”
He spanks your clit before swiping over it rapidly with the tip of his tongue. Your fingers lace between black tendrils of hair and pull as you deliquesce into the empyrean feeling that only his tongue has ever offered you.
Your mind is stripped bare as he continues his assault. Manipulative fingers push carelessly yet purposefully into your ageing bruises to extract those ethereal moans from your weak little throat.
“’m gonna c-um, daddy.” you groan, eyes fluttering white as he presses harder into your marked body.
“Show me.” he whispers, breath fanning across your sex as he speaks. “Show daddy how a slut cums.”
Every inch of your body feels tarnished and stained by him. With him. A cloying film embedded to your skin that is purely the work of Megumi Fushiguro. His insults as well as his loving touch. The fear as well as the adoration. Even his eyes ravishing you with nothing but a salacious stare leave their mark on you.
His tongue doesn’t stop as your cunt begins to spasm. He feels how your pretty pussy pulsates against his greedy face. You cum hard and coat the lower half of his face in a shimmering gleam. He’s loud, unable to hide his pleasure as he begins to hump into the mattress at the sight of you coming undone for him. It extends your own pleasure, hearing how fucking noisy he is purely from giving you head.
You hate him.
He’s so vile.
But you can’t help wanting to make him proud.
You can’t stop feeling proud when you’re a good girl for him.
And seeing him like this makes you think that he might actually love you. His eyes are definitely dotted with hearts, now, as he savours the taste from devouring your essence. There are two words lodged in your throat. Two stupid little words that you would do anything to choke down and forget right now. Maybe he won’t care, not when he’s like this. Not when he’s pussy drunk and utterly enamoured by your mere existence.
“Kiss me…” you almost suffocate as you speak, tears spilling down your cheek as your cheeks burn with heat and shame. Your eyes scrunch closed, preparing for a barrage of insults from him. You know he’s going to call you stupid, pathetic. Maybe even an airhead again.
But it doesn’t come.
He finds his strength, holding his body up on his knuckles as he drags his body up yours like a wild beast. He lowers himself, his lips locking perfectly against yours before he cups your cheek. Why isn’t he always so soft and gentle with you? You feel yourself cry more as he swipes his thumb softly across your cheek as he kisses you. His tongue teases yours, licking it and smiling when you can’t quite keep up.
You know he loves you.
Why else would he do this?
Why else would you allow this?
He pulls away, familiar green eyes staring into yours as he studies you. They’re intimidating, clinquant. The most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen. He wonders if you know he thinks the same about yours.
“You want me to put it in, don’t you?��� he asks. He chuckles softly as he notices you nodding before he’s even finished his sentence. Your eyes are pleading and desperate, and he’s never been one to deny you of him when you’re so needy and polite. He stands on his knees again, unbuckling his belt slowly while he examines you. The way your hips roll in anticipation, the way you’re biting your lip and forcing yourself to not allow your fingers to dip between your thighs to toy with your clit. It’s too much. It’s too long to wait as he undoes the button and pulls down the zipper. You’re almost salivating when he finally frees his cock. “Missed me that bad, hm? Missed daddy’s cock, didn’t you?” he asks, ignoring the fact he knows the answer is obvious.
“Y-Yeah…” you struggle to speak. To think as your mind runs rampant with so many sex flashbacks you have; courtesy of the very cock you’re ogling. It’s thick with gorgeous veins and flushed with the prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. “Need it— need your daddy cock.” you tell him, your chest jittering with hitching breaths as you try and maintain some semblance of composure.
You’re far from composed.
You’re nothing more than a mammal, burning with a white-hot intensity from trying to control your basic instincts. The primal urge and need to fuck. He’ll help you, though. You never need to worry about those needs being neglected while Megumi has nothing but you on his mind.
The pleasure is blinding as he presses his tip against your entrance. He pushes and pushes until he’s fully sheathed in your welcoming cunt. His cockhead rests at your sweet spot, and you know he’ll waste no time in forcing your vision to white out as he fucks you.
His fingers wrap around your throat, the prettiest necklace you own, and he squeezes tight. It’s not without reason. It isn’t just to give you more bruises or to cut off your air supply. He wants to keep you focused. Focused on him. He dips his head down to slot his tongue inside of your mouth once more. It’s a sloppy, drool induced kiss that shows no signs of stopping as he rocks his hips against you. His cock slamming deep and hard against your g-spot.
You can’t talk.
The only words that swirl around your brain are expletives anyway.
His kiss is suffocating and so is his grip on your neck. He releases you, slightly, giving you the chance to breathe once more. You can barely sense where you are, you don’t know if your eyes are open or closed as the only thing occupying your mind is his cock slamming into you and bringing you to your second release of the evening.
You’re brought back to reality, though, as he lightly taps your cheek a few times before slapping you hard.
“L-Love you, daddy.” you pant, you moan for him again and again until drool leaks from the corner of your mouth. You don’t care, you don’t even notice. And the sight is making him feral as he realises how there’s truly no one for you but him.
There’s no one for him but you, either.
“Fuck.” he grunts, knowing he’s going to cum sooner than he’d anticipated. He could stop fucking you, of course, but he can’t think of a worse fate. He wants to cum. He needs to cum inside of you and flood your pretty insides with his seed. He needs to make his mark on you and remind you who you fucking belong to. “’m cumming, baby, auh—”
“D-Don’t stop!” you warn him, desperate to reach your peak with him. You try to keep him in place, your legs wrap around his back and your fingers claw into his porcelain skin. He groans, quietly, hissing as you drag your fingers across his back deep enough to draw blood. He doesn’t mind, how could he when he leaves you covered in bruises at any given opportunity? If he marks you, he owns you. If you mark him, you own him.
And he wouldn’t want to belong to anyone but you.
“S’perfect… so fuckin’ perfect f’me. Unnff— oh, oh fuuuuuck.” he finishes, still pistoning his hips to fuck his sperm deeper inside. He’d knock you up in a heartbeat if you let him. Not because he wants to be a dad. Not because he wants to have a family with you. But he wants everyone to know you’re his. He continues to moan as he imagines you with a big swelling bump and everyone knowing that he is the cause.
You can’t ever leave him.
He’ll go mad without you.
“Such a good girl… look so pretty when you cum on daddy’s cock.” he tells you. He dips a hand between where you’re joined and rubs torturous circles into your throbbing clit. Your body jolts relentlessly from the aftershocks, unable to withstand the teasing.
His touches slow, and he pulls out as you begin to catch your breath. Your breathing deepens as you feel him part your pussy with two fingers so that he can watch his seed drip out of you and onto the mattress below. He smiles, brimming with pride that he did this to you. That no matter how much you claim to hate him, he’ll always be able to do this to you.
He collapses by your side. He’s staring up at the ceiling as your bodies shine with sweat and sex. He’s panting, loudly, with the biggest smile on his face you’ve ever seen. You’re staring at him. Trying to understand what actually goes on in that fucked up head of his.
But you never will.
So, you stare up at the same ceiling as he is and keep your thoughts to yourself. Where does this leave you, now? You never said you were back together, but you think he might have already decided.
But it was always going to end up like this.
You kick up a fuss and banish him to his dads house. But he always comes back. Always. And it’s because you want him back. Because you are too weak willed to stay away from him and do what you know is right. You could move on. You could fall in love with someone that doesn’t play mind games and make your life miserable.
But you love him.
You’re so stupid, because you love him.
“I love you, Megumi.” you whisper.
He’s quiet, he’s thinking.
“I know.”
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© 2023 rinitxshi
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ddejavvu · 8 months
Note
Do you think you could do Sirius Black with the “I hate everyone but you.” Personality.
James is immediately alerted to your glum mood when you sit down without so much as a greeting, and he leans across the table with narrowed eyes.
"What's'a matter, Y/L/N?"
"Sirius is mad at me." You reveal drearily, wrapping your hand around the fork set at your place even if you don't feel like eating.
"Oh," James's brow scrunches, "Don't take it personal, babe. He's having a shit day, he heard from his mum. Nothing nice, I bet. Wouldn't let me see it. Just- he's grouchy with everyone today, don't let it bother you."
"But he told me to come back tomorrow," You recount, "Like he can't stand seeing me for the entire day! What am I supposed to do, James, we're set to study in the library at three. And- and I could help him! I could be there for him, but he's pushing me away instead."
James's brows raise, and a pitying smile works its way over his face, "Love. You're the kind of person that wants to be around people all the time. You seek comfort out when you're sad; Sirius doesn't. If you love him, y'gotta let him sulk for a bit. Then he'll come to you. And-" His nose scrunches, his brows wrinkled, "And all he said was 'come back tomorrow'? That's nothing. He told me to get my bespectacled arse out of the room before he shut the window on my head."
Your face contorts in horror, "James! James, that's so mean, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, darling." He snickers, "That's what I mean, that's just what Sirius does."
"Not to me he doesn't," You frown, "That's not okay, James, he should treat you better than that."
"He's having a rough time," James shrugs, "Doesn't bother me. He's all talk, he'd never do any of it. Just needs to blow off steam, y'know? And I think we both know why he tones it down for you, Y/N."
"I'm not special," You snap, reigniting the age-old argument between you and James that Sirius totally does not have feelings for you, not one bit.
"Right," James gives you an overexaggerated roll of his eyes, curls bouncing as he does so, "That's why he threatened to behead me and all he did to you was kindly shoo you away."
"Maybe you just piss him off more than me," You stick your tongue out at him, and turn to Remus for support as the boy sits down beside you.
"Morning," James takes the lead, shooting you a smirk out of the corner of his eye, "Talk to Sirius today, Moony?"
"Little shit told me if I didn't stop talking to him - which I only tried once, by the way," Remus groans, "- he'd 'mess me up' so hard my transformations felt like reprieve."
James's eyes widen and he tries tamping down a snort, tucking into his breakfast instead. Remus turns to you and your once-more incredulous gaze, scoffing lightly, "And I suppose he just told you to come back tomorrow?"
"That's exactly it!" James slams a fist on the table, a chunk of egg flying from his mouth that Remus shakes off of his hand with a grimace, "Moony, tell her she's special."
"I'm not special," You desperately try deluding yourself, shoveling your own forkful of food into your mouth as soon as you're done speaking, so that you don't have to answer to their protests, "He just hates you both."
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cheesit-notes · 8 months
Text
Abuse of Power
in which Captain Price goes on a fucking power trip over his new recruit, you ♡
tags: MDNI!, power abuse, bdsm, bondage sorta, gags, whips, spanking?, reader giving blowjob as punishment, cum on face, basically Price being a big bully because he has the power to do so
a/n: slight changes to wording, wanna change more but dk what to add you know? hope you guys enjoy this ^^ i don't think reader's gender or any genital body part is specified but i had fem!reader in mind when writing (so watch out for that, pls tell me if there's any)
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you're just a rookie and have so much to learn, it must be soo stressful, yes? don't worry because Captain Price here will guide you all the way. he's your very reliable captain, so trust him won't you?
all those tasks that only you seem to get? the ones that somehow end up with you on his lap or in some odd position that could easily be misinterpreted? don’t worry about it, just listen to him! remember to call him captain or sir when talking to him, he is your superior. he’s teaching you the ropes ‘cause he’s sooo kind. you’ll need what you’ve learned with him later on ;>
monday mornings are now spent on your knees in front of him. you're tied up, hands behind your back, gagged and you have to show him you can break free. oh but the ropes are too thick.. and you can't move... and oww they dig into your skin. it hurts! too bad, Captain Price isn't going to stop practicing this with you until you manage to break free. and even then, more practice doesn’t hurt.
thursday evenings have you half naked, bent over his desk as he whips you. gosh.. you really need to build your pain tolerance, you're a crying, whimpering mess on his desk! how will you handle yourself in case some awful person tortured you for information? Captain Price realizes you need a lot of training, so why don't you come on saturdays too?
oh be careful, don't let your tears spill on the documents... geez, you really had to get the papers soaked, didn't you. guess you need a punishment.
you know how he's always palming himself during your training? well now your punishment is helping him out with that. on your knees, half naked, hands tied behind your back, ropes digging into your skin, and guess what? you're going to stay this way until he says so.
he sits in front of your kneeling body on his office chair. his cock growing harder as he lazily strokes himself. his thumb pressed on your lips telling you to open your mouth, his hand holding the side of your head. he guides you closer until the tip of his cock is touching your lower lip.
Captain Price starts slow, he's pretty lenient about your punishment, at first. but god, he's getting more and more frustrated. you are not doing it correctly. the only thing happening is his cock slipping in and out of your mouth. god, you really are dumb. well, that means he just has to teach you, so listen up. he barks out orders between groans; "suck it, rookie. just fucking- ugh, don't use your teeth" but you're a little slow on understanding his verbal orders so he has to start getting physical.
a hand on the back of your head pushing you to take his cock deeper and deeper, until your nose is in his pubic hair. you're gagging and tears begin forming in your eyes. you look up at him, teary faced and you're moaning around his cock. he grunts out a string of curses before letting you go and cumming all over your pretty face.
he'll take off your restraints, look at the bruises and red markings caused by the ropes, tells you to clean yourself up and go to med bay. how will you even explain the marks? ah, doesn't really matter either way. if they find out, that's fine by Price. he doesn't mind if others see his handiwork.
"... next week, same day, my office, at 5."
"yes sir,"
is all you say, because what else can you do? he is your captain, afterall.
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wxnheart · 9 months
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Worshipping him.
Admiring his body, your eyes sparkling with wonderment and love.
Leaving him flustered under your gaze; you make him feel beautiful. You make him feel sexy. You make him feel... safe. And loved. So damn safe. So damn loved.
His body is a canvas made of stories, some good and others downright horrifying. And with every ridge and scar your fingers run across, you hear them again. You never tire of hearing them.
Cupping his cheek, a cheek that's seen a fist or felt the sting of a slap more than it has the warmth of a kiss. You remedy this. You'll always remedy this.
Running your thumb over his lips. A kind or vulnerable word may seem few and far between with some people, but you know that when he speaks them, it's genuine. It comes from the heart. You feel the gentle pressure of his kiss against your finger and god, he's so fucking beautiful—
Resting your palm over his heart. A heart that beats strong and steady, a heart that's experienced so much pain and suffering, that's been broken more times than you two can count and he's always had to pick the pieces up and glue them together himself. A heart that dares to be vulnerable, to open up and love in its own gruff way. A heart you wish you could make anew but can only try your damndest not to break again. And he believes you. He'll always believe you.
You worship him and he falls deeper into you...
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mostlyheinous · 2 months
Text
ᑭᕼEᖇOᗰOᗩᑎ
「 ✦ Dabi x F!Reader ✦ 」
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cw: NONCON/DUBCON, SCENT KINK, hate-fucking, cockdrunkeness, sluttification/bimbofication, primal kink play, smoking/drinking mentions, degradation, mind fuckery, forced oral (giving), forced sex, cumcumcummy inside
Supremely late as usual... and it took a lot of finesse given how things have been. But this is dedicated to the lewd Secret Santa (new years nao?) Event by the depraved @ectologia who gathered up a handful of Tumblr's fantastic dark-fic writers ♡ i didn't forget y'all. I came late w the sauce—
To my dearest Secret Santa @tang3r1n who picked my brain with their absolutely PUSSYCLENCHINGDIABOLICAL descriptors of Dabi's musty dick after a long day and I just— fhdjsjsjsjsj.
I can't thank you enough for your patience and understanding... Let's start this year off with a bang.~
— League Hideout, 2am.
Believe it or not, villains can feel at peace too.
In the dim, underground bar, the warm hue of light against mahogany and cherry wood has become home to you. The varnish is a tasteful, nutty gasoline scent, comforting in it's own right. That colorful jukebox flickers and quietly stirs as it scratches vinyl.
Usually, the joint was bustling with recruits and League members, giving each other hell or toasting over another small victory. Plus Chaos.
Tonight it's dead quiet; perfect time for you to work.
But when that mellow 80s j-pop track plays on, you can't help the way you hum and bounce your knee to the rhythm.
Plastic Love: You know this one.
Kurogiri clinks around fine crystal behind the counter. As he gingerly places them back on the rack behind, he doesn't seem to mind your loopy musical trance. When those yellow hues of his ghastly eyes look to you again, he stares down at the paper workload in front of you and catches you attempting to sip away at an icy glass that runneth dry.
"... Another, y/n?" The eerie voice beckons. You swore you heard a flicker of humor there somewhere... "Or perhaps you require assistance."
"No no, Kurogiri, I won't put you to that, please. I insist."
"... As you wish. You can help yourself to whatever, though it is imperative that you aid Tomura Shigaraki."
"Th... Thank you."
"Naturally."
Were you working hard or hardly working at this point?
... In front of you sat hundreds of pages of unheroic filth— cheating scandals, money bardering, unsavory dealings between agencies.
It's likely something you'll all gather around and read for a good laugh later when you're shooting the shit. Right now, all Tomura cared for were locations, time-frames, and configuring the best day for the League to make it's next appearance when the heroes least expected it.
He really wasn't privvy to "filler," and he'd shown a streak of being impatient when it came to these things. So you take initiative.
When the last glasses are cleaned away besides your own, the haunting bartender leaves you with a piping mug of matcha anyway before stepping out of the light and descending into the shadows of the hallway.
"Should you need me, i'll be attending to Tomura."
As dutiful as the nomu was, only truly served one master. You thank him again and pay him a half-attentive nod as you flip through another ink-dense page, highlighting sections.
You're onto something here, eyes flickering across the pages until you have your eyes set on an address. But only a moment passes before the room's door opens and slams shut again.
"Back so soon Kurogiri?"
You smile as you turn to greet who you thought was the chivalrous barkeeper, but immediately grow deadpan when you look up to a familiar face.
"... Wrong."
Dabi.
The male's gravely voice greets you, as well as his carcinogenic clouds when he exhales cigarette smoke through flared nostrils. You do a piss poor job of acting indifferent, turning back around with a huff. It was already hot in here, did it just turn a million degrees worse? Maybe it was the alcohol...
He starts eyeing the documents and the few empty glasses nearby, quickly connecting the dots
"Well you sure look busy." He tisks.
Of course, the cunning bastard found one frayed end on you, tugging just to see what'll happen. For all the time you'd ever worked alongside Dabi, you knew his truest nature was kept under wraps beneath that rugged, cool exterior. Always calculating... always cunning and looking for an entrypoint they would benefit him and him alone.
You weren't in the mood for his antics.
"I was busy." You jab while turning your face further away from his secondhand smoke. You could tell he'd been on a spree of arson when he smelled like hell. "Should've known it'd be you."
Sulfur, ash, and bloodshed... it was intense as it was revolting when he was so close to you now.
Thankfully he goes to meander towards the lounge corner not too far from you. You track the steps it takes for him to reach it before shakily exhaling the breath you didn't realize you were holding.
You'd like to think you had a soft spot for your confidants, but not when you knew Dabi's sarcastic, lax nature could rear it's ugly head. You knew by now that if you turn around to grace him with your face or chat him up, he'll look wartorn and smug like some delinquent child who patiently waits for you to notice the grimy evidence on they're tattered clothes from the evil deeds they just commited.
He even makes sure to create as much noise as possible when he plops down on that creaky leather couch and props his tactical boots up on the glass-paned coffee table in front.
Cerulean eyes lazily drift over to you... He knew he had a certain effect on people, notes the way your shoulders tensed, the shifting of your body away from him, the furrowing of your brows, the way you shifted in the bar-stool. The way the corner of his mouth twitches exposes the sense of satisfaction he has in your discomfort.
"Oh, Ice Queen," He cracks the silence again with a condescending nickname, leaning back in fake disbelief. "I never took you for much of a drinker."
You ignore him, but the red in your face worsens when you can feel his gaze dragging up and down your spine, unaware of the way he analyzes the cascade of your tousled hair, the pursing of your chewed lips, the subtle pink stain across your cheeks. the arch of your back... the round of your ass.
"... Y'know, you've usually got a stick so far up that ass, it's almost adorable to see you loosen up and still try to act high n' mighty around me... Kinda nice to see you let your guard down."
You didn't like the rasp or tone of that one bit.
"Don't you have some abandoned warehouse to sleep in? A hero to stalk down like some fucking creep?" You finally mutter.
"There she is." The languid man only builds the tension with his low purr and the confrontation drawl in his question: "My teasing strike a nerve, your highness?"
All you can do is scoff, and as soon as you meet his eyes, you smirk to yourself and say the first thing on your mind.
"No, but your stench certainly does. You reek like a corpse."
That gets his brow to quirk up, but the rest of him remains lax. He almost beams at your quip, revved up for more tongue lashings.
Arms strewn across the back of the couch with little care for the way he spread his legs so freely now, he flicks ash off his cigarette before placing it in the ash tray near his propped feet.
"Oh really?" Dabi retorts, that dry, hoarse voice still finding a way to drip with sarcasm. A hand poised in front of him, he ignites hellish blue flames in the palm of it — and you distressingly remember that varnish is actually very flamable.
"... How observant of you. Looks like you're more than just a cute face afterall with that noggin of yours. Guess i've always been a fan of burning bodies, so that stench suits me just fine."
Swallowing, you watch him finally extinguishing the dancing flame before he picks up where he left off of his cancer stick, bringing it back to his marred lips and letting his head slump back as he exhales more carcinogens.
You know, maybe you were in the mood to fight tonight, because you decide not to just drop it there. Cuz you knew you wouldn't be able to function if you had to tolerate his prescence any longer, let alone his fucking scent. It wasn't that he even smelled bad per say, it was... unique, carried a bad omen.
The scent of dead men who likely clung to the arsonist's smoldered jacket before turning to ash. It unnerved you greatly, and you can't focus like this.
You frankly just didn't want the snarky bastard around, Not when you knew he was never up to any good. His teasing, the sarcasm, that self-righteousness...
"You're stinking up the lounge, go to your room or something."
"I will, maybe when you show me some respect 'n smile for me the way you do for Dusty's lapdog."
That's it.
You smack your gums and spring into action, sliding off the bar stool and attempting to pack your things aggressively so you could move elsewhere on base. Anywhere away from the distasteful fuck.
"God you're an ass."
Dabi cracks the sudden kink in his neck and lets out a haggard sigh. He kicks his feet off the table and rises again, after he'd already gotten comfy. Before you can make another snide comment to him, he's walking over with those boots trudging across the floorboards until he's right up in your face.
"Yeah? Am I?"
He works his jaw, eyeing you down with an amused glint in his evil eyes. Suddenly you're gasping in horror as his warm hands shoot out and grip terribly hard onto your squirmy hips.
"Pretty sure I asked you to smile for me, didn't it?" He pulls you flush against his, that touch radiating both the coldness of his demeanor and the heat of his power.
"Ahh... I think I know why you're such a stone-cold bitch. You're scared of me, aren't you babe?" Dabi puffs smoke against your face and neck, the full intensity of his scent enveloping you. "Good... lets keep it that way."
Too close...
You turn your face away, but the subtle hint of cologne mingling with the hazy aroma of his power and the underlying musk of his body starts to trigger something odd inside you. Not to mention the way his blue hues bore into yours, a challenge behind them.
"Anyone ever tell you you're way more darling up close?" He whispers it against you, a lulling mantra wielded like a dragger to your delicate throat. "So bashful now... bet I can make that bitchy mouth of yours plenty useful."
There's zero humor in the cruel laugh you sputter in his face. You had enough of this blatant arrogance, turning up your nose at him. Dabi could go low, but like this?
"Fuck you." You finally spat venomously. "You think i'm intimidated by you?" With those words, you rip his hands away like he were the plague and shove past him.
"... you're disgusting and delusional. You hold no power over me."
Sparks fly across his vision and his body moves faster than his rational thoughts. Before you can get even 2 feet ahead, you feel a burning grip on your forearm.
"Ugh! Dabi, enough! Let go—!" the room spins as your body is yanked forward.
Challenge accepted.
Dabi's judo tossing you like nothing until you're landing on your back hard, slammed onto the glass table with a hard crack and head hanging off of it. The ashtray goes flying off after you, the butts he'd collected scattering across the floor.
"U-urgh..."
Dabi's surprised it doesn't shatter beneath the force, because he wasn't gentle. He soon storms back around, stepping towards you with initimidating swagger until he's standing right over you, looking at your splayed figure. Your head hurts, and this perspective makes him look upside down... or is it right-side up?
"Man, i'm gettin' real tired of that attitude."
The shadow he cascades in the dim bar light is menacing. The sulfur-scented demon is about to rip you to pieces, burn you up like a garbage heap and send you straight to hell for a petty trangression. Before you can sit up to defend yourself, he's gripping your tits first and holding you down.
"H-hngf! Stop—!"
He grins as you struggle against his grip, intrigued by your squirming and shocked expression. The squeezing from his warm hands making your nipples perk reflexively. And he opts to tug them the moment he can see them peaking through your top, hard.
"Dabi! I said s-stop, what the fu~ck—!" You shriek, voice cracking as octive higher at the violation.
"So you think I'm disgusting, huh?" he hisses, carrying a dark, sadistic undertone. "Well you're far from some clean, pure angel yourself, y'know." His free hand slips beneath your shirt, trailing his fingers between the valley of your cleavage like a scapel with surgical precision.
"I guess i've been too lenient with you, y/n," he growled, his voice laced with a dangerous edge while laughing cruely on top of you. "How stupid can you be... mouthing off insults about somethin' a guy can't control! Anyone ever teach you to keep your mean comments to yourself? No wonder; no-one's ever fucked any sense into you—"
The raising of his voice and sudden mania genuinely does scare you. With a bruising grasp, he's kneading your already sore tits. You hiccup and sob, contemplating hollaring for Kurogiri. He'd surely come and put a stop to this, wouldn't he?
"—maybe you just need some fuckin' dick in you."
You try to find your voice to scream until you realize, as Dabi's leaning over you, that you're leveled perfectly beneath his crotch...
!
... Instead you just gawk, horrified when you finally feast eyes on the sick fuck's massive, throbbing dick and balls pulled out above the band of his pants. He's curved just slightly, and veiny, pumping excitedly along his thick shaft up to the swollen-pink tip. Stinky, fresh pre-cum oozes at the very top.
The dropping of his white, studded belt tells you this is all very real as it hits the wood with a loud clunk.
"What are you doing?!" You'd learned your lesson, but that wouldn't be enough for Dabi. "N-no! P-Put that away, Dabi!" From this angle, you can't see his smug face, likely amused by your pleading.
"Put what away, babe?"
"Dabi!"
God you can smell him. His... parts carry more of that intense smell... Something only belonging to him.
"Use your words 'n tell me, then."
It's salty, sweet arousal, and those pheromone secretions coat his clammy, heated body as he worked on haphazardly yanking his jacket and shirt off above you, revealing more piercings and scarred skin.
"F-fuck, keep your clothes on, please! Just cut it out already, this isn't funny!" You don't realize it but you're tearing up.
He isn't stopping.
"Ah... Who said I was joking?"
You refuse to accept him by shallowing your breathing — and of course, he notices. You try to turn your face away, but he's triumphant as he locks your head between his thighs till you get a faceful of him.
"M-MRPHHH!" Muffled pleas go ignored.
"Y'claim to know me so well by my 'stench'. So go on — Breathe me in, bitch."
You bring your fists up, hitting at his thighs in desperation helplessly as he practically suffocates you with his hefty balls. You can feel the reverb in his chest as he laughs cruely down at you.
"Come on, you're a big girl, aren't you? Take it—"
His balls were heavy and hardly plopped neatly into your mouth when they were so big. Squeezing your watering eyes, you come to accept them.
You want to deny to yourself how erotic this is... but nature runs it's course, unlocking your deepest, carnal desires, mean't only for primal encounters, growing intoxicated with the need for—
"Cock. They said you can get drunk off the smell of it... if you're aroused enough." His groan disrupts you, then a ragged exhale escapes him as he settles himself above your face.
Those scarred hands give your tits another firm squeeze.
"... Can you feel it seeping into your feral mind?"
You're horrified at the way your mouth waters and eyes roll as drool spills out the sides of your mouth while you gently suckle at his sack. Seemingly not getting enough, Dabi snarls like an insatiable beast, lip caught between his teeth as he finds this all to be very stimulating.
"Harder, damn it..."
The man shivers at the way your tongue moves on it's own against his aching ball's perineum... So sensitive, despite having such a damaged, wracked body.
And why was it so facinating to hear him...? To make his knees buckle, make him weak at your flicking alone. Until he's pushing the boundaries again—
"... Fuck... open wide."
"Mngh, m... n-no..."
"Y'don't wanna drag this hazing on any longer, do you?"
You murmur curses, but your actions speak clearly to the depraved fucker. You behaved like a starved alley cat, lapping at milk and mewling for more at the prospect of being free from this humiliation.
He rolls his eyes, pulling his balls out of your mouth with a wet pop before dragging his heavy length across your face.
"Mm... but I can't lie. Being cockdrunk is such an interesting look on you, y/n..."
The tip prods at your wet mouth.
"... Why don't y'go on and have a proper taste?!"
Not caring for your weak protesting, he pushes himself past your plush lips, the force of his initial thrust positively bruising the cushy part in the back of your mouth.
You screech as you gag around him. But the moment his dick comes in contact with your taste-buds, it's over.
His flavor is divine, and as much as you hated submitting, your body craved the taste of his skin. Savory, soft... pumping in and out of your slobbering mouth, and you desperately try to suck up as much of his greasy dick as you can back into your wanton mouth. With bleary eyes, your lips create a perfect seal, cheeks hallowing with each back and forth motion of his hips. To his delight.
You seem like a pro to him, timing your exhales perfectly and making him lose himself to pleasure. Of course, you just don't want to asphyxiate on his dick.
Musty, sweaty, savory—
"Mphm... Shit." At this angle, Dabi's sliding with ease right into your poor throat over and over again, his hips flush against your face. Thick thumbs press firmly on the sides of your neck, glee riddling his face as he feels himself wriggling inside your esophagus.
"Oh yeah. Feels good having those pretty, pink lips on me... God, you're doing so well, little cocksucker."
It's nudging past your tonsils, but his tip is abnormally hot. If you'd had any experience giving head, you're positive he's running hotter than the average man. Must be his quirk.
And as he's stuffing your mouth with a rougher pace, you begins to fear that his cum must be blistering—
"—Ugh!"
You cry, unable to complete your thoughts when he's suddenly pulling out to the head and slapping your face with a heated hand.
"Quit that shit." A harsh yank of your tender-head snaps you back to reality, but you cry again when he spits a hot wad into your wailing mouth. "You're thinkin' too much, focus 'n keep sucking me off."
One last thrust in, and the devil's deep past your esophagus. He keeps himself there, feeling your heartbeat stammer in your throat, the tightening around him...
"Urgh... yes-yes-yes." he keens, throwing his head back.
He popped your erotic bubble dreams with his cruelty, so you finally graze your teeth against him when he doesn't let you breathe. You make sure to snag his skin between your teeth, and it only gets him growling. Seemingly fed up, he pulls out of your mouth entirely till there are only strings of spit connecting you together.
"Bitch."
You cough and are thankful for the brevity, until you look up to the rest of him now. From the trail of white pubes running from his dick up to his navel... to the heaving of his scarred chest... to his piercings on his face... he was looking real good to you right now.
Handsome and alluring... It was unusual; his inky black hair, compared to the patches of white you can catch. The staples beneath those deadset eyes and piercings across that chiseled chest... the tugging of purple-hued skin, likely not even his own, keeping him in tact. Alive.
He was a marvel, truly. And it was turning you on.
The villain stares down at you too, admiring the tears in your eyes and the flush across your gorgeous face while jerking himself off.
"Think you're ready to take me?"
"B-but you said—"
"You poor thing. Y'get some dick finally, and you're already a dumb bimbo. I didn't make any promises, did I?"
No. Of course not. He steps away from you while grinning, reveling in the scene before him like you were a meal splayed out on a silver platter. He's tailing callosed fingers along your jawline as he maneuvers around the table.
His touch was igniting sparks of desire through your body again.
"Y'think i'm just gonna let you off without making me cum? You're gravely mistaken, y/n."
It should've sickened you, but you don't resist when he climbs on top of you, this glass bearing the weight of you both too well. You don't fight when he's tugging down your bottoms and yanking down your sopping underwear...
The more you huffed him and his smoke, the lighter your head became. Up close, he was a euphoric amalgamation of pheromones, an incubus through and through... carrying a dark, delicious aura and aroma of sex and the sweet release of death..
You suddenly think about him in ways you never had, how only now you realize how much of an actual man such a monsteosity like him could be.
So hot-blooded. So human, carrying the rich and full-bodied scent of a real man with delectably fertile musk... you must be drunk on his elixir, because your thoughts begin wavering too...
Yes. Fuck yes, he was a man, packing a pair of balls full of potent semen and a twitching rock hard cock ready to spurt and pump it deep inside a wanton, awaiting womb...
And to your dismay, you knew you were absolutely fertile.
The moistness seeping down to your heavenly ass and the glistening of your ripe, puffy cIit was proof of it.
You don't even know how your own scent draws him in, his pupils dilating until they're swallowing the gorgeous, desolate blue of his ocean eyes.
"God, I knew you'd be such a perfect fuck..."
The lust clouds his own usually judgement, even his vision wavers as he becomes freakishly aware of how breedable you were, those obnoxious birthing hips and plush sides difficult for him to ignore.
Were you ovulating...? Was the full moon out? Why did you smell so good to him too? ... On any other day, you were just some annoying brat who got on his nerves. Tonight, you're highly prized meat, squishy, gushy cunny too good to pass up.
Primal instricts flood the forefront of both your feral minds — he was more than capable to breed you. Impregnate you. Ravish and claim you.
But first, he'd stake his claim — mark you with his filth so even the other members could whiff it.
You feel him slip his hands beneath the fat of your ass squished against the cold glass, the persperation from your weepy cunt dirtying it. He scoots you up and pries those thighs apart before putting you in a mating press.
On any other casual one night stand, he'd prefer his woman knelt over like dogs in heat, keeping their annoying wails and begging out of his ears while plowing their insides.
Tonight, something tells him he needed to bear it all with you... in the least romantic way ever as he presses you into the cold table more. Thank god he's so warm...
The burn from the stretch of your muscles get's you crying out, until he's kneeling down to lick away the sweat droplet from your precious face. His scent... his body, it's all over you now, tacky skin keeping you together.
There was no escaping now.
"You're filthy too now, y'know... no point in crying about the way I smell now."
"D-Dabi... what are you..."
"I can't wait to abuse your fucking pussy... it's what you deserve for always being so cold with someone like me."
Excited sparks of blue catch in his hands, and the prospects of him killing you on his dick were looking more plausable when the fat tip smacks against your clit and drags itself up and down your entrance.
"You think this is just some game for me? Always actin' like some hardened bitch around me... i'm going to shatter that arrogant little facade."
You mewl, forever hating yourself for your submission. But the heat between your throbbing cunny doesn't lie.
Squirming and writhing beneath him, he gives you zero warning for when he's slamming himself deep inside you.
"Shit—!"
"A~ahmm!"
Pain wrack through you
"Dabi! D-Dabi, too much, hurts too much!"
Those heated hands latch onto your jiggly breasts, bearing the weight of him on top of you as he fucks up into you.
"F-Fuck, quit squirmin', oh my fucking god—"
His tip was bulbous, rubbing just right against those sweet spots inside you, dragging your milky essence in and out with him. You can't see it, but the nectar oozing from your cunt coats the base of his dick and pubes, all on display for him as he watches himself enter you each time.
You throw your head back till it's back over the edge, moans gutteral as he churns your insides up. All the while, he grins and laughs at you, huffing small curses and yeahs?
"Damn, you're tightenin' up nicely. Gettin' excited aren't you?! Tell me baby—" Dabi presses himself flush against you now, chest to chest as your legs remain held back. That stiched tongue darts out, drooling against your face like a panting dog.
But this would be a hard lesson for you.
"— tell me how much of a sorry slut you are for being so mean to me."
"I'm—ugnh! Dabi~ah! I'm r-really—"
—Over and over again, he thrusts inside, pace never faltering and interrupting your every word.
"—aaa~hh, 'mm-sor-ree-ee-y!~"
"Are you?! Then take it, dumb fuckin' whore, come on—" he's not satisfied, railing you harder into the table. His bony pelvis grinds right against yours until it hurts, which makes you babble more apologies.
The shoddy pegs squeak as they scape up the wood flooring from the erratic fucking on top of them. Now you fear Kurogiri's presence — really any of your cohorts catching you like this. The humiliation... The mix of smells and bodily fluids you're both coated in will likely never leave this corner of the bar. The scratches scattered across his back and the oak... the slippery glass as it floods with fluids.
"Mmpf, lucky girl, somethin's gotta be in the air tonight... because you're starting to look like the woman who'll do good raising my brats!~"
How would you ever be able to show your face in here after all of this? After getting violated by the man you once held so much disgust towards, you were now acting like a submissive, brain-dead toy excited by the prospects of being filled and used.
This is what you deserved, wasn't it?
"Y-yes yes yes— wait n-no! No more, p-please, you're gonna make me—h-haaa~"
The plapping of Dabi's balls and pelvis against your juicy cunt with each full thrust in makes sinful music — slicking, popping, squirting. The dim bar fills with the noise, at some point louder than even the humming jukebox in the back.
"... D-Dabi, i'm gonna cum! I— ah —oh god! Please, i'm sorry!"
The knot in your gut wounds tighter at his voice alone.
"Then don't deny it, tell me how it feels getting fucked by such a disgusting bastard!"
"I-it feels s-so good—! F-feels so~oo— kyaaaah!—"
The squeezing around his cock sucks him deeper inside you, and even he is taken aback by how lewd you've become now as you crack and shatter on the precipice of a delicious orgasm.
You were broken down, kicked off your high horse, knocked from your shiny pedestal... and Dabi reveled in every waking moment of it.
But he really is only a man, a sudden urge forcing him to capture your sweet moans with his lips in a demanding and possessive kiss. Gnashing teeth, saliva and coppery flavoring from the animalistic sucking and biting... it was rough and aggressive, his tongue slipping into your mouth with crazed hunger.
He wanted to leave no doubt in your mind that you were put in your fucking place — so with a couple of aftershocks from your beautiful cumming, he's following suit, spraying your insides with thick, potent cum. Every inch of your womb... molded by his monstrosity of a cock... coated with his seed, a signature from him that details your ruining.
You melt beneath him, opting to finally kiss him back... like one last weak plead to let you free. To fight with whatever you had left of that determination.
Instead, you succumb to exhaustion, eyes fluttering while you take in the last of his hellish eyes and lop-sided, lustful grin.
Stupid, gorgeous girls deserved to be treated this way by monsters like him.
"I fucking busted inside you..." he admits proudly, huffing... as though you didn't already know by the spasming of his dick.
"... Y'can hate me all you want tomorrow."
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lilianvanrouge · 1 year
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Malleus and Lilia x Frail and Abused Reader Part 2
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You were currently walking to Diasomnia alone with nothing but a plate of cookies. You were petrified while crossing the stone bridge worried that you’ll fall into the sea of black, dead thorns below. You were glad that you wrapped the plate of cookies, because you were shaking like crazy.
You finally made it to the giant gates and used the knocker. You were afraid that Sebek or Silver was gonna open the door, but you were relieved that it was Lilia.
“(Y/N), you came! Come in! Come in!” he said with a big smile.
You walked in and got your first glance ever at the inside of Diasomnia. It was just as cold looking and feeling as it was on the outside. You took a quick notice that no one was in the lounge.
“Where is everyone?” you asked, really curious.
“Sigh, unfortunately I’m all alone. Sebek, Silver, and Malleus all had things to do within their club. The rest of the students had things to do and very few are in their rooms. I was left all alone,” groaned Lilia.
It sounded like he was about to cry, until he did a total 180.
Lilia then smiled bright and then said happily, “That’s when I was glad you said you’ll have tea with me; otherwise, I would have cried!”
“Okay... So if I said no he would’ve guilt tripped me by fake crying,” you sweated as you thought.
“Come! Sit down and relax! You’re my guest after all!” said Lilia, pulling out a chair for you to sit on.
You walked over and sat down on the chair. Lilia pushed you in and floated over the table to take his seat. Your heart which was aching ever since woke up this morning calmed down.
“I hope it’s okay; I brought cookies. I made a lot of them, because I thought more people would be joining us,” you mumbled.
You felt bad for fighting with Grim so he wouldn’t eat all your cookies. You trapped him under a heavy stew pot with a few books covering the top, before quickly leaving your dorm.
“Of course! I didn’t know you could cook! I made the tea myself! Everything else Trey baked by himself,” said Lilia happily.
“Well anyone can cook as long as they follow the recipe,” you said.
Back at home you practically did all the cooking and cleaning.
The interaction with Lilia started off slow with you not sure what to say. But soon you were both firing back interesting conversations. You were having a great time with, until they came in.
You heard the gates open to the door of Diasomnia, but you didn’t turn around thinking it was average students coming in.
“Who is that drinking tea with Lilia-sama?!!” shouted Sebek.
You immediately spat out your tea from shock. Your heart started beating like crazy and you could hear it directly in your ears as it hurted your chest. You just hoped that Lilia couldn’t hear your heart beat, since he overlooked you and was focusing on Sebek.
“Welcome back!” said Lilia, happily.
You heard two pairs of feet walking towards you. Your heart beat rapid knowing that Silver is here as well. Your teacup was now lowered from your lips and was now clattering loudly in your hand against the plate. Lilia took notice to the noise and saw saw how pale and fear ridden you looked along with you trembling like crazy.
“Are you okay?!” asked Lilia, extremely concerned.
You held your head down and didn’t answer. The footsteps continued coming closer until they suddenly stopped directly behind you. All of a sudden a pair of hands slammed down on the table on your left. The force was enough to shake everything on the table. Your cookies were now all over the table and the plate holding them shattered on the floor.
“Human, what are you doing here?!!” shouted Sebek.
He wasn’t directly in your face since you were holding your head down, but he was in your peripheral vision and if you turned your head he’d be directly in your face.
“Sebek-” began Lilia.
“I have to go,” you muttered.
“Hmm?!” said Lilia, surprised.
“I have to go now!!” you said.
You immediately jumped out of your chair and dodged Silver who you didn’t realize was on your right.
“(Y/N) wait!” said Lilia, but you didn’t listen.
You continued running out passed the gates, passed the bridge, and all the way back to the hall of mirrors where you collapsed. Something was wrong with your heart. Very wrong! You immediately texted (Y/B/F) saying you were in the hall of mirrors, before everything went black.
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digital-domain · 1 month
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Written in Blood
Alastor x Reader // Word Count 2.2k
In which you’re given a lasting reminder of who should be on your mind.
tags/warnings: dark content, yandere, violence, branding, scratching, blood, alastor definitely wanting to taste said blood (but holding himself back), implied sexual content, power imbalance, abuse, absolutely fucked relationship dynamic, reader clearly has no control over what happens to her (therefore dubcon/noncon implications)
A/N: this exists because the wonderful @absolute-flaming-trash planted this idea in my head. Let us all take a moment to bow down to our queen <3
As always - 18+, read the tags, if you don’t like the tags then don’t go below the cut (or into my inbox). Thank you and enjoy.
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Alastor’s hand slides gently up your back, the soft touch contrasting ominously with the brutal way he’d slapped you just moments before. Your clothes are strewn haphazardly across the floor (while his all remain on, and intact), but the shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with your lack of cover. His gloves, which he’s never removed before, now lay discarded along with the rest of the scraps, two fingers slick with the residue you’ve left behind.
“What’s my name, darling?” 
The pet name feels underhanded, cruel as the sting of his palm that still burns on your cheek, but you don’t take the time to ponder it. This is not the time for resistance - the way his hand pressed against your bare skin, trapping you between his palm and your bedroom floor, is enough to remind you of that. “Alastor…”
“That’s correct! Very well done.” The charm lingers in his voice, barely betraying a hint of the malice underneath. “And why, pray tell, did I feel the need to ask you such a simple question?”
“Because…” Because you’d been stupid, and let your mind wander, as it often does, to the life you’d led before. The people you’d loved. The time when being… intimate felt real, when it wasn’t just another piece in some twisted game whose rules you’ve never been told. “Because you want to make sure that I remember it.”
It was in one of those warped, vulnerable moments, when you’d felt everything and he’d seemed to feel nothing at all, besides a sick sense of amusement at seeing you lose yourself. That was when you made your mistake. Let go a little too much, and sighed a name that wasn’t his. One that you missed, one that you often closed your eyes and pictured above you - you’d been too deep in your reverie to realize how deeply you’d betrayed yourself, and by the time you’d come back to your senses, it had been far too late to do anything but beg for forgiveness.
“I do want you to remember.” He sighs. “Such a shame that you would rather forget…”
You don’t protest. He’s not wrong, at all. How desperately you wish you could go back to the life you had before. At the very least, you could have chosen to go somewhere else - anywhere else - in the wake of your death. You’d give anything to rewind the clock, now, to forget him entirely and start anew, go down some other path that didn’t end with him. With this.
You’re surprised when his hand pauses on your upper back, beside your shoulder. Truly, you’d believed that he was going for your neck, that he was going to clamp his fist around your throat and cut the air off from your lungs until your vision went black. Instead, his free hand finds your own, and clasps over it, locking his fingers with yours. He gently squeezes into your palm, a gesture that would be comforting if it didn’t come from him.
“Let’s make sure you don’t forget again, shall we?” He sounds calm, almost soothing, a sudden shift from the rage you’d been subjected to just a minute before. He turns on a dime like this often, and you’re never sure which side of him to trust. Never sure what’s an act, or what’s real.
“I won’t.” You mean it, more than anything you’ve ever said to him. There’s a knot in your stomach, pulling tighter with this sudden change in demeanor, and you want desperately to unravel it. To have peace, if only for a little while. “It was just a mistake. I won’t ever do it again.”
“Of course you won’t.” His head drops, distorted static pressing into your ear. From out of the corner of your eye, you can see that familiar red glow pulsing out behind him - always a sign of worse things to come. “Not after this. ”
The hand on your back tenses, and you tense along with it. Unnaturally sharp nails dig slowly into your flesh until, with an agonizing jolt, your skin breaks beneath them. At this, three of his fingers lift, but the fourth - his index finger - burrows deeper into your flesh, and yanks down, ripping a diagonal gash inches long.
You scream. Truly scream, your mind ripping from pain and shock, just as awfully and tangibly as your skin. He’s hurt you before…but he’s never drawn blood, and certainly never sent it dripping in rivulets down your back. 
He sighs, and brings his finger back up to the opening point of the fresh cut. “Oh… this is going to be a long few minutes for you, isn’t it?” Without any more preamble, he tears into you all over again, yanking out another cry of pain as he pulls away at the opposite angle, drawing out a deep scratch the same length as the first.
There are tears in your eyes. Normally, you’d try to hold them back, but this time you can’t pull yourself together, as hard as you try. You let them fall, let yourself cry out loud. Somewhere in the haze that your mind has become, it occurs to you that there’s something very deliberate about the placement of these scratches. Something methodical.
“Do you even know what I’m doing?” He cackles over you, a luminescent red glow fading into the corners of your vision. “Perhaps after this one, if you still haven’t figured it out, I’ll give you a hint…” 
He delves into you once more. This slash stings most harshly at the ends, where it connects the two lines already drawn, halfway down, digging again into already-broken skin. Slowly, your mind forms an image, connecting the strokes…when the pieces fall together, a sob, loud and raw and hopeless, plummets out of your mouth.
“You understand.” He presses his thumb into the blood pouring from your back, and gently runs it over the A he’s carved into your skin. “No need to despair…that’s one letter done already.”
“I…” You squirm, shaking violently beneath him. “I can’t…”
“ Don’t be ridiculous.” He slides his hand down, already preparing for another stroke. “I’m not going to leave my art unfinished…it would be such a waste. And very confusing to anyone who happened to get a glimpse - not as if I intend to allow such a thing to happen.” 
His name - it’s going to be written diagonally across your entire back. He’s left just enough room for the remaining letters, while taking up as much space as possible with each cut. 
“Stop shaking, my dear. You’re going to mess this up…and I’m sure you don’t want me to have to do it over again.”
You try to figure out how many more times you’re going to have to take this, how many more scratches before you’re done. Two for the L, another three for the next A…
He slices into your back, straight down, and the numbers disappear from your head. It’s hopeless. You bite your lip, hard, but you can’t keep yourself silent.
“ Poor thing.” The condescension is palpable, dripping cruelly from his lips. “If only you’d controlled yourself to begin with. It takes just a moment to ruin everything…I do hope that you won’t do it again.”
Oh, you know that that’s a lie. He loves having a reason.
Another slash, and a hum of satisfaction from behind you when you go still, recovering just a bit quicker than the time before. “Two down.”
He says it like it’s a good thing, and not a reason for you to sob harder. Two down means five to go….means you’ve barely started.
His mouth is close enough to a fresh tear that you can feel his hot, hungry breath against your torn skin, his macabre smile burning into your spine. 
And - oh god. Something wet and warm hits your back, slides down and mixes with the rivulets of blood trailing over your skin.
“So tempting …” He sighs raggedly, and slowly, oh-so-reluctantly pulls himself back. “But I know myself well enough not to go down that path with you …it would be far too hard to stop once I started.”
Even the pain of the scratch that follows isn’t enough to push away the pure horror that curls in your gut.
Neither is the next.
Or the next.
He’s dragging it out, each time insisting that you still your shaking limbs before he continues, giving your hand an awful, gentle squeeze before moving on. Your eyes are screwed shut almost the entire time - but with each stroke, there’s a moment when they flicker open, and take in a bit of that terrible red light before you manage to wrestle them close.
It doesn’t get better. If anything, you think it’s getting crueler as it goes on, but you pull yourself together enough to start apologizing again, whimpered “ I’m sorry ”s gasping almost inaudibly from your mouth.
“I’m not convinced.” The pad of his finger traces up, readies his next stroke. “You’d say anything to get out of this, my dear. It’s only when I’m done that I’ll be satisfied.”
You bite down on your lip until it breaks, scratch at the palm of your free hand, the floorboards beneath. It’s only been a few minutes, but this is beginning to feel like your entire existence - you can’t conjure memories of a time before it, and you certainly can’t imagine a time after. Least of all looking in the mirror when this all over…
He pauses for an extra moment before this next letter, as if he’s giving time to let the dread sink in. You’ve lost track of where you are - but the O is unmistakable. One long, unbroken stroke that requires him to twist his nail against your skin. 
He laughs indulgently, almost sweetly, as you gasp and writhe helplessly beneath him. “Almost finished, darling…try to be patient.”
Oh, if his affection felt twisted before, it’s a  thousand times worse now. And yet, he somehow manages to make it sound genuine. Like he feels bad that he has to do this to you. It would almost be easier, you think, to let yourself believe it.
His voice is soft, the static almost entirely fallen away. “Now, tell me again - what is my name?”
You choke back your tears, force what little air you can into your lungs. You’re almost done, but everything hurts so much that it barely matters. His voice sounds so far away, hovering above you, reverberating strangely in your head.
He presses his lips to your ear. “ Answer me.”
“A”-
As soon as you attempt to speak, he slashes down once more, and your voice dissolves into something between a sob and a scream.
He laughs, and doesn’t bother pausing before finishing off the R of his name,grinding his talon deep into your back, grin spreading wide in the corner of your eye as you shriek. “Not quite.”
You’re sure that there’s a pool of your tears on the floor, but you’re too out of it to see with certainty, even if you did manage to open your eyes.
“Hm.” He sighs, gently tracing the pad of his finger over the final scratch. “And…what about your name? Surely, you can at least remember that.”
His nails suddenly dig into your torn skin, sending a fresh shudder of pain curdling down your spine, leaving you gasping - not to speak, but to quell the churning in your stomach.
“Shame.” He gives your hand another squeeze. “But I’m sure it will come back to you, before long. You’re very resilient…I think that’s why I always have so much fun when we’re together.”
Your head spins. It’s been spinning for what feels like an eternity, numbed and stretched out by his torture. You want him gone. Now, and forever. But once he leaves, you’ll be just as miserable. Playing what just happened in a sickening loop in your head until the pain finally goes away. Until you wash every stain from your skin. And even then…
Oh, even long after that. Just like he said - you’re never going to forget. 
He rises to his feet, collects his gloves from where they lie on the floor, and slides them into his pocket. For some time, he stands silent and still above you. Even with your face pressed to the ground, you know that he’s staring, eyes flashing bright and red as he surveys the results of his work. 
“I’m sure you’ll do better next time,” he sighs. “Until then…”
His hand slides under your jaw, forcing you to look up. He bends down at an angle that truly doesn’t make sense, uses his bloodied fingers to swipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks, pushes back your hair - and kisses you oh-so-softly on the forehead. 
You don’t move. Don’t speak. The tears are still coming, and you’re not even sure if they’re still from the pain. 
“ Take care, my dear.”
You wait until he’s turned away before you allow yourself to react, nails digging into your palms as your face falls back to the floor. Shaking. You stay there until long after the door has shut behind you.
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an-idyllic-novelist · 2 months
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Husk with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario
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warnings: aged-up!reader [early to late twenties], spoilers for episode 4 to the season finale, mentions of physical abuse and attempted drugging, violence, Husk's language, dismemberment, mentions of cannibalism.
Hey guys, and welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fics, this time featuring our grumpy bartender and one of my favorite characters, Husk! :) This is a collaborated project with not just @isuckatwritingsobenice, but also with @vikkirosko, @witch-of-the-writing-desk, and @riddle-simp, who gave me honest feedback on the rough drafts and how to make it the best fic I could create before sharing it with the world.
If you would like to see more of Husk x Violet, please do let me know know in the comments section or as an ask! Like always, bullying is not tolerated here so if there is any implication of it happening here, this scenario will be taken down immediately. If you have nothing nice to say, do not say it at all.
With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see who will win the full house at the card tables tonight :)
Reblog to support content creators!
Husk isn’t gonna deny it. It ain’t like him to deny the truth when it’s staring at him right in the fucking face. He thinks you are a little bit of an oddball. You don’t smile, you wear the same outfit every day, and you don’t eat much either unless Niffty practically drags you to the staff’s dining room from wherever she found you hiding. Normally, it’s one of two places: out in the backyard, or the greenhouse, because you’re the hotel’s groundskeeper. And that was on your days off.
 Like Angel, you worked for an overlord, but your boss wasn’t that shitbag Valentino or Vox or Velvette. Your boss is Rosie, the owner of Rosie’s Emporium in the Cannibal Colony. You were her personal secretary. You had been on her payroll for over ten years, working from nine to five unless you had to stay later. She did not seem to mind you staying at the hotel so long as it did not affect her reputation or your work ethic in any way. 
So far you’ve kept your word. Alastor actually seemed to be happy that you were around. 
Maybe. Husk couldn’t fucking tell what that son of a bitch is thinking anymore. But back to you. 
You, who believed in Charlie’s work.
You, who participated in each activity and helped around without getting paid for your time.
You, the expressionless ex-military soldier, has been on his mind recently and he did not like it. 
He lost the ability to feel anything years ago. 
Nonetheless he continued to observe you from afar. When you weren’t busy with watering plants, you were seen in different parts around the hotel with the others. 
You would sit with the princess in the parlor, comparing ideas on what tomorrow’s group exercise should be, even when the only two ideas you’ve suggested were shot down immediately by Charlie. She didn’t like the idea of group bonding through hand-to-hand combat but loved the concept of showing appreciation to one another through handwritten letters. Vaggie approved the former. The latter? Not so much. 
In the kitchen you would go through the cookbook with Niffty and Alastor, trying to decide on tonight’s dinner.  They allowed you to help out, at least when it didn’t involve cracking eggs. Apparently you were not very good at separating the yolk. 
When Sir Pentious was away from the hotel doing God knows what, he trusted you to look after the Egg Bois until he got back. You kept them busy around the greenhouse though they tended to make a bit of a mess. 
Angel started to work extra late at the studio after his show and tell presentation. Something about making a big commercial and Val wanted to make big bucks on this new product that the Vees were launching in a week. You must have noticed that something was off about him, but you didn’t say anything to him. No words of encouragement, no comforting hand on his shoulder. All you did was clench your gloved hands into fists, watching him leave and…unsure of yourself. What you should do. 
Husk heard you asking Niffty what were some of the kid’s favorite foods about that time, and she was more than happy to help you with whatever it was you needed as long as you left the kitchen sparkling when you were done. You were concerned about the kid. Least from what he could remember. He drank a lot that day. 
When he woke up much later after falling asleep at the bar, hearing your footsteps descend down the grand staircase and towards the kitchen. Groggily, probably stupidly on his part, Husk thought it would be a great idea to know what the fuck you were up to so early in the morning. Turns out you were trying to cook something, judging from how you looked at the ratty cookbook propped up on the counter and the wide array of ingredients spread out. 
He saw you cook  finely chopped onions, garlic, and minced ground meat in the large frying pan on the left side of the stove. You stirred something in a smaller sauce pan on the right side with a wooden spoon. He saw you handle all of the ingredients with great care, placing them in a baking dish  even when you weren’t wearing your leather gloves. A small shudder crawled down his spine at how the kitchen lights bounced off of the adamantium skeletal prosthetics that acted as your hands. 
He didn’t even wanna know how exactly you lost them in the Great War. 
Everything was soon laid out, layer by layer and placed in the oven. He didn’t know he stood there for so long, even when you began to clean up the kitchen with a rag. Time ticked by slowly, and then a delicious aroma tickled his nose even as he took another swing of the half-filled booze bottle he was holding. He was about to leave you alone, knowing you’d be fine when he saw you pull out the dish with your hands and no oven mittens on, you fucking moron! Then his mind remembered something that stopped him from making an entrance. You couldn’t feel anything with your prosthetics, not even as you placed it on the stove top to let it sit. 
A couple of hours later - maybe he can’t keep track of time anymore so it might have been the following morning - he saw you giving Angel a large paper bag every morning before both of you left the hotel, and telling him to have a good day. 
Angel grudgingly thanked you later on that evening when he got back…though did say your garlic bread needed some work. The next day, he gave you a paper bag, telling you to taste real Italian grub and try to replicate it. 
Guess it became a game between the two of you, ‘cause Angel was slowly being someone real and not some fake  whiny bitch. 
As odd as you are….you cared about everyone in your own way, even when the words that came out of your mouth angered someone or made them cry, you tried. You never asked for help unless it was necessary, trying to learn everything on your own. And you were smart, Husk will give you that. 
And he…he doesn’t know if he had the heart to tell you that redemption might not be possible. Unlike him, you still carried a spark of hope. You believe in the princess. He doesn’t want to be the one to see you reach your breaking point, to be dragged into a swamp of despair and get drowned in all sorts of addictions to cope with the pain. He was…anxious. No. He was scared for you. He wanted to help you but he was afraid that by intervening, he would just make matters worse.
It was better to just stick to the sidelines with a bottle of booze and watch everything happen like the bartender Alastor wanted him to be, right? Well, turns out he was wrong. 
One night after he made Angel a drink and called him out on his bullshit for being fake, the whiny little bitch stormed out of the hotel. Vaggie tried to make him go out and bring him out, but Charlie intervened. All she asked him was to make sure that Angel was okay. Do not force him to come back if he isn't ready. Obviously judging from the distraught look on her face, something happened between the princess and Angel. 
Husk did not know what or why, and he really did not want to play the role of a goddamned babysitter. Not when it was actually a slow evening and he didn’t have to hear these fucks bitch and moan for hours on end. But Vaggie’s glare, knowing Alastor would force him to do it because he fucking can and not knowing what would happen if he actually violated the terms of their contract, he left the hotel. The first place he went to were the streets. No luck. And no one had seen him. When he moved his search to the bars, he spotted Angel going inside one of them. 
Long story short, he was going to hang back and just keep an eye on Angel getting drunk off his ass with some shady sharks in a corner booth until he saw one of them pour something into Angel’s drink. He took care of the fucker, got Angel out, and listened to him. Angel Dust was not just an act. It’s who he needs to be. Drinking and getting high is his escape. He wants to be damaged so that he won’t be Val’s favorite toy anymore. 
Then when it seemed like they came to an understanding with a song, those bastards opened fire on the streets, targeting him and wanting Angel to come back to have some ‘fun’. Yeah, fuck no. 
That was when he heard car tires screeching against the asphalt, doors opening and closing with more shouting. Husk gritted his teeth. “Shit.” He turned to Angel. “Stay down. I’ll take care of this.” He pulled out his cards, ready to hop onto the roof of the pink Volkswagen they were hiding when he heard a  shnk, a high pitched squeal, then a gurgle. 
THUD.
Shnk.
THUD.
C-crack.
THUD.
“Who the fuck is this bitch?! Kill her, kill her you stupid asshats!” 
“Holy shit, toots?! The fuck - why is she here?!” Angel cried. Husk raised his brow, craning his head as far as he could without being in range of a bullet to see what was going on. There were only two people Angel called toots and he was pretty damned sure they were back at the hotel, safe and sound. Not one of them blitzing across the street, dodging bullets and slicing enemies down with a hunter’s knife in one hand, a large carpet bag in the other. 
He blinked. Nope. He was sober. Shit. He thought as you weaved between the shitheads, disarming, decapitating, and snapping their necks in no particular order. You weren’t exaggerating when you said you were a weapon for the army.  When he saw a flash of movement from the smaller grunt, twirling a knife and aiming it for your head as you pumped lead into his friend, Husk made his move. Hopping onto top of the car and threw his cards. One cleanly sliced the asshole’s neck. 
He quickly made through the growing crowd, running towards you as he threw some dice into a hammerhead’s mouth. But when he turned his back towards them, he felt something light and strong coil around his neck, cutting off his air supply. 
Fuck. Garroting wire! Husk flailed around  scratching, kicking,  and trying to get loose but the fucker was too damned strong. Black spots began to appear in the corner of his eyes when he felt a white hot stinging pain graze his left cheek, then something warm and sticky with a metallic scent. Blood.
The body behind him dropped, and so did he, yanking the wire off  him and inhaling deep gulps of  precious oxygen. Husk looked up and saw Angel with a shit-eating grin and a Tommy Gun in his upper hands. 
“Eat lead, sucker!” The porn star cackled, firing several more bullets into the corpse and his buddies that were closing in on them. Angel grinned at him, extending a hand to help him up.”I told ya. I can handle myself, baby.” Husk felt a grin stretching his own face as the fella pulled out more weapons with more arms. Well….not something he was expecting. 
Between the three of them, they made quick work with the rest of the gang and their reinforcements. Like him and Angel, you were covered in grime and blood but you were all right. 
“Are you two all right?” You asked as you wiped off the blood from your knife with a handkerchief, the carpet bag by your feet and in pristine condition. “No limbs missing that weren’t missing before you arrived?” 
“Yeah, we’re good.” Angel said, putting away his guns and extra limbs. “More importantly, why the fuck are you out here instead of the hotel?!” He interrogated, his voice lowering an octave as he glared at you, stomping towards you. Before Husk could stop him, Angel grabbed  your cheeks with his hands and pinched them. “You know these streets are dangerous, toots! How many times do Vags and I gotta tell ya?! Come straight home when you’re done with work!” Then he blinked, his face turning white, his eyes widening in horror. “Toots,” He said slowly. “Y-you ain’t hooking up with anyone around here, are ya?!” He yelled, now pulling your cheeks outwards as if you were a cartoon character. 
You didn’t flinch from the cheek pinching or pulling; instead, you looked at him in slightly confusion. “I don’t understand. What does fishing have anything to do with this except that these men were quite literally loan sharks standing outside a nautical-themed bar?” You asked. 
“Toots.” Angel said warningly. “If you don’t give me a straight answer, I swear to fucking God I am going to yeet you off a rooftop.”
“ ‘Yeet’?” You repeated.
“[First Name], just tell us why you’re here.” Husk said, already feeling a headache coming on and in need of a drink. You turned your attention to him, then back at Angel before you spoke.
“Rosie sent me out on a last-minute errand to get fertilizer for her plants. But by the time I got there, the shop was already closed. I was on my way home when I heard the gunshots, and saw the two of you being pinned down. I was not going to leave my comrades behind when I could help them. So I did. And now,” You looked over at the bodies strewn across the street. “I have what I need. Two birds with one stone, as Rosie says.”
“Ya mean ‘kill two birds with one stone’, toots?”
“Yes.”
“So, by fertilizer, ya mean these schmucks that we just totally obliterated.”
“Yes.”
“Food for plants.”
“Carnivorous plants. And if the fertilizer is fresh, the better it is for them. Rosie loves her plants very much.” You said, pulling away from Angel and grabbed the carpet bag off of the ground, walking towards the nearest body. “If you do not want to be here, I suggest you leave quickly.” You knelt down, laying the bag down and opened it, laying out assorted tools. Bone saws, knives, a large roll of plastic wrap, etc. “Rosie says I have gotten much quicker at dismemberment.” You carefully peeled off your gloves, replacing them with gray surgical ones. 
Husk glanced at Angel, eyebrow raised. It seemed like they were thinking the same thing because the latter spoke up with a toothy grin. 
“Baby, I was a mobster long before I was a porn star. ‘Sides, hacking up a body all by yourself is gonna take you all night. Better to have more hands to get the job neater an’ faster, am I right Whiskers?” 
Husk smirked. “Can’t argue with that, Legs. Guess you’re stuck with us until this job is done. You got another bone saw in that bag of yours?” He asked with a grin, somehow…happy to actually be doing this. Who would have thought a new friendship started with cleaning up bodies?
You stared at them for a moment, obviously stunned because you must have thought they’d leave you here alone, before you pulled out two more bone saws and more rubber gloves. Your instructions were simple enough: the severed pieces couldn't be any bigger than your body, and they needed to be wrapped up tightly in the plastic wrapping or else you’d have to pay a hefty cleaning bill to get the blood out of the bottom of the bag. Angel’s extra limbs came in handy for the latter task. Between the three of them, they made quick work with the dead loan sharks and everything was loaded inside the carpet bag, and no one was the wiser. This was Hell, after all. Cannibalism, gun fights, and dismemberment was commonplace in these parts. 
You thanked him and Angel profusely, bowing your head to them before you shyly asked if they would be interested in getting a bite to eat. To Angel’s knowledge, the closest place that is still open late at night is Devil’s Diner, which is half a  block from Jackpot, the casino Husk had owned from his glory days as an overlord. The food wasn’t too bad there, and cheap too. 
Now that he thought about it, Husk had worked up more of an appetite after the fight and so did Angel. Better to do that than trying to cook something and waking up Niffty. So, the three of you went to Devil’s Diner. Of course, you tried to just have a cup of coffee, but neither he nor Angel were having it. Conditioning your body to minimize nutrients to complete a mission, his ass. 
Both he and Angel persuaded you to try the day’s special with some water plus dessert. Whatever you couldn’t finish, get a to-go box. Husk himself ordered a sandwich with chips. Angel got pancakes, sausage, strawberries, and a strong drink because he fucking deserved it. 
Conversation started slow at first, but as the orders were placed and drinks were served by their waiter, words were exchanged, and stories were shared. Angel revealed he had a little brother and more family down here, though he rarely talked to them anymore after getting into the show biz. Husk confessed that he used to be a magician in Las Vegas, showing off a trick with his cards. 
They shared a good laugh over Val’s shitty eyesight. It shouldn’t take thirty minutes to count three bills, but it fucking did for the moth man.
You told them that you were once commissioned to help a playwright finish his newest script after being on a hiatus for many years, but he had been a difficult man to work with because he had no interest in doing anything else except drinking his days away. You had actually acted out a scene on the lake where the hero would journey home to be reunited with her father after vanquishing a monster. That was when you began to understand how grief affects people in different ways…and how your actions affected the people you had killed on the battlefield. People who had families and had one-day wishes that would never be fulfilled because they died by your hand. You are here in Hell because you are, you were, a weapon to be used in war. Reconnecting with people, with your emotions…it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. 
“That’s what being human is all about.” Husk said. “Ya make mistakes, ya regret the choices ya wish ya would have made, or should’ve made, and ya need to live with it.” He knew that better than anyone. 
“The old timer’s got a point but look at how far you’ve come!” Angel exclaimed, spreading his arms out as he began listing all the good things you have done and accomplished since you came to the hotel, though you still needed to learn how to bake real Italian bread, not just heat up the cheap frozen ones in the oven. Husk silently agreed with him, taking another swing of his whiskey. In the end, you got a to-go box, but Angel said he could take it back with him to the hotel. You still needed to deliver the body parts to your cannibal superior and Husk said he’d go with you. But you insisted that you would be fine on your own, and that he and Angel should get some rest. 
“Rosie will not let me stay long in the emporium with how late it already is. She’s very particular about keeping the lights on after business hours.” You said, the corners of your mouth tugging downwards into a frown as your gaze fell upon his wings. “Husk…you were twitching a little and I heard your spine crack earlier, and your voice sounded a little raspy. I do not know what the cause of your ailments beyond the scuffle with those loan sharks could be because I am not a doctor…but it would be better if you and Angel took it easy for the rest of the night.” 
Keep in mind that Husk had once been an overlord. Yes, he’s been out of the game for a while, he won’t deny it. But he was not going to admit that you might be right.  “There’s nothin’ to worry about, I’ll be fine. If I can handle a fight, taking you where you need to go will be a walk in the park.” He grumbled, ignoring Angel’s snickering. 
He watched you raise your hand, fingers outstretched towards one of his wings, and then you pulled it away to clench your hand into a loose fist. Husk saw your hesitancy isn’t because you were disgusted at the sight of them, or his appearance. Hell, you had more bloodstains on your clothes than him and Angel combined. No. You were hesitating because you were afraid that your touch might hurt him, or make the pain he was feeling worse. 
Husk grinned as he grabbed your wrist, pulling it forward and carefully coiling the gloved fingers around the outer part of the left wing near his forearm to give it a squeeze. “See?” He flexed the muscles. “I’m fine. You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.” It took him a second to realize how impulsive his actions were, seeing how your eyes widened and hearing Angel release a low, teasing whistle, muttering “Kinky~!” under his breath. Great. The kid wasn’t going to let this go, not even after a few drinks. Shit. Fuck. 
He tried to ignore the warmth flooding his face as he kept his gaze on you until you nodded your head, removing your hand from his wing. You were convinced that he was more than fine to accompany you back to Cannibal Colony, at least for the moment. You turned to Angel. “Are you going to be okay, heading back to the hotel on your own?”
Angel smiled toothily. “Toots, you should know me by now. Sex isn’t the only thing I’m good at.” He winked, holding up the to-go boxes as he turned on his heel, waving his extra hands over his shoulder. “See ya back at the bar! Ya still owe me a drink, Husker~!” Now that he left the diner, it was time for the two of you to make your exit. 
You walked down the steps and looked at him. “Ready?”
Husk nodded. “Yeah.” He then held out his paw to you. “Let’s get going.” You nodded, placing your hand in the center of his own, covering the golden-heart shaped paw  before he scooped you up in his arms, one claw under your legs and the other around your shoulders. You stared at him.
“What-”
“Hang on tight.” Husk did not give you a chance to respond, unfurling his wings to their full length before putting all of his weight on his back leg, catapulting the two of you into the crimson skies of the Pride Ring. Walking was fine and all, but as you mentioned, it was already pretty late. Why waste more time when he could fly there? 
So here you were, held like a princess with one arm wrapped around the carpet bag and your hand placed on his shoulder. But instead of screaming your head off or pleading with him to land somewhere, your attention was elsewhere. You were captivated with the multi-colored pin pricks of light down below,  your mouth partly open and [Eye Color] irises widened by a fraction. It was obvious that you hadn’t seen Hell from above. Or maybe you hadn’t traveled by air before. Either way, seeing such an expression on your face, one that wasn’t calm or expressionless like a doll who lived by someone else’s order.
You looked like a living, breathing human who had her own thoughts and could find beauty in the most bizarre of places. 
It almost made Husk consider extending this flight for a little longer until he realized he’d have to explain to you in great detail as to why he did decide to do it. So he brushed it off, and followed your instructions to your destination. 
Twenty minutes later, the two of you arrived at the stone steps leading up to the glass double doors of Rosie’s Emporium. The dimly lit streets were mostly empty, the bars were still open and echoed with raucous laughter and jazz. It was tempting to slip inside there for a drink, but Husk wasn’t too keen on being around cannibalistic drunks. Alcoholic he might be, he wasn’t that stupid. And he didn’t want you to get in trouble with the overlord who ran this place. She was your boss, not his. 
He watched you put a hand into your coat pocket and pulled out a small golden key. You put it in the dead bolt, twisting it to the left before pushing the door open. “Miss Rosie?” You called out, stepping inside the darkened establishment. “Miss Rosie, it is me. I am back.” 
A moment of silence enveloped the place, but only briefly because soon a tall, thin woman in a burgundy dress with an oversized hat and feathers materialized in front of you. She was at least two or three heads taller than you, smiling down with rows of sharp, gray teeth and pitch black orbs. “Oh there you are, I was startin’ to really get worried! Did John give you everything for my precious little sprouts?”
You quickly explained what had happened, how you could not see John because he had closed the shop by the time you got there but the fertilizer you collected from a gun fight you got into and came out victorious should be more than enough. Rosie was all but delighted, twirling in a small circle as she cooed.
“Ohh, I knew it was a good idea to hire you from the moment you came for the interview! I wish I could’ve seen you at work, using that bone saw and hacking away at corpses, but there’s always another day~! You know how many people come in wishing to have their husbands or wives ripped from limb to limb, at least the ones that taste bad! Ah?” She stopped dancing, craning her long neck to stare at him. “Who’s this you brought with you, [First Name]?” She looked over her shoulder, wagging a finger at you with a raised brow. “Come now, I know I said I wanted you to find a good fella someday, but this one’s way too scruffy for you and you’re much too young for him! Oh, I’m just kidding, I know you’re dedicated to your job! Well? Introduce us!”
You did, introducing him to the overlord as Husk and the hotel’s bartender. Alastor must have told her about him because she immediately called him ‘Alastor’s kitty cat’ and ‘how he used to be such a sophisticated-looking fella until he gambled against Alastor’. She laughed. “Well, small world, after all! [First Name], be a dear and take that bag into the back, will you? I’ll feed the little monsters myself, and you can go home! Oh, did you want some pinky fingers to go? I’ve got plenty of them and you probably didn’t eat dinner again, am I right?”
“Understood. And no thank you, though I will take up on the offer to try one of those roasted legs next time.” Husk almost gagged at your monotone words and Rosie’s cackle, but he had to keep his composure. As far as he knew, you were not a cannibal. And if you were…well, you probably wouldn’t have gone out of your way to help him and Angel, or at least order something from the Cannibal’s Section at the diner instead of force feeding yourself on the daily special. 
You might have only been gone for a few minutes, but it was awkward to stand near Rosie, the way she smiled at him like she was thinking about adding him to her menu for not dressing up in a vintage outfit. At least he hoped not. He could barely contain his relieved sigh when you appeared again, hands empty with no bag in sight. 
“It’s done.”
“Wonderful~! Now, you march up to bed as soon as you get in the door young lady! No staying up late!” She said, following the two of you to the door. “Give my regards to Alastor and tell that man he must come back soon! These halls have lost their sparkle without his lively presence! Oh! Before I forget~!” She snapped her fingers, and in a puff of dark red smoke, a large wad of bills materialized in your hands. “Here’s your paycheck! I know it’s a little early but I have a very important task for you to do tomorrow!” She grinned. “Go to town and buy yourself some new clothes for work!”
You faltered. “But -”
“Tomorrow is your day off I know, and I really, really love your enthusiasm when you try to come in to help around, but a proper lady of society cannot live on just one dress and a pair of boots! Oh, and you will also need to get a Hellphone in case something like this happens again! No ifs, ands, or buts! If Alastor throws a fit about it, I’ll talk to him! Now, shoo! Husker, be a dear and get my darling worker back to that hotel safely, all right?” She added with a wink.
Husk grunted exasperatedly but did not say a word. The last thing he wanted to do was go pissing off an overlord who just happened to be the Boss’ friend. So he just nodded, and followed you out of the door. When it shut behind them with a click, things got…awkward. Now that you weren’t carrying around a bag full of body parts, there was no need to fly all the way back to the hotel. Or at least that he thought you were thinking. 
But he told you that he didn’t mind, since Charlie was probably already worried about the two of you even if Angel had somehow managed to persuade her otherwise. So…you agreed, albeit hesitantly. Husk didn't waste any more time. He scooped you up in his arms and took off into the night skies, though with this being the Pride Ring, there was really no way to tell if it was day or night anymore. Cannibal Colony soon became another darkened spot, getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared from sight. 
As soon as the two of you made it back to the hotel, Husk had no doubt everyone would be giving him shit. Angel would make comments on his little ‘date’ went, which he’ll deny in every possible way, and the princess might be cryin’ from anxiety or relief knowing that two of you were all right. But that was then. This is now. And…he’s come to like holding you in his arms. 
“Husk?”
“Yeah?” He felt the arms around his neck tighten slightly…but not that it wasn’t too uncomfortable. It felt…okay. Like you were trying to say something, but you struggled to find the right words to say without sounding like an ass. 
“Thank you…for everything.”
His lips stretched into a grin. "You're welcome." 
He felt the cold of your palms, it would seem, through the gloves, but it was not so important. Because as the two of you flew back to the place you called home, he saw you smiling down at the Pentagram in wonder, whispering the places you had visited and or wondered what they were or if he knew anything about them, to which he either answered yes or no. It was such a small smile, but how could he not commit not it to his memory? 
And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to get a drink with you on a night around town. Or make one for you at his bar. He knew how to make a good non-alcoholic pina colada, even an alcoholic version of it. But who knows? He’ll take things one step at a time, and see what happens. 
What Husk did not realize at the time, not too far in the distant future, you would be the one to close the gap between them…and there would be something more between the two of you. Something that made his days in Hell just a little brighter. 
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cyarskaren52 · 2 months
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forbidden-sunlight · 2 months
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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love
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Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, spoilers for episodes 7 and 8 in the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial, physical abuse, implication of friends to enemies.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fic! I know I had said that I was going to be on a break until the 8th or 14th in my last post, but I had gotten a burst of inspiration after watching the season finale and wrote this after discussing the idea with @riddle-simp and collaborated with @witch-of-the-writing-desk. It's because of these two that I managed to write 2k in a single day, so please give a big round of applause to these amazing individuals.
So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!
Part Two
Alastor could not believe what had happened on the rooftop. No, he refused to believe that he was nearly killed by a hair. To almost die for his friends, a fucking altruist of all things.  Sorry to disappoint, but this is not how his story will end here. He thought viciously, tugging at his hair as memories rushed through his mind. He needed more. He needed his freedom. Yet this deal is restricting his powers from reaching their fullest potential, and it almost killed him. Yes, there has to be another way to get out of it. But more importantly….he needed to stop these feelings bubbling inside of him. These feelings he felt towards you. 
You, a simple groundskeeper who had forgotten what it meant to be a human and served as a weapon in war. You, who did not use technology like him yet still found a way to connect with the rest of the hotel’s wayward souls.
He hates it and he wants you gone, out of sight and out of mind, because these feelings have put him in more danger than necessary. When he finds the backdoor of his deal, how to unclip his wings, he will be the one pulling all of the strings and claim the power that he rightfully deserves. He is the Radio Demon, the Great Alastor! Nothing else matters to him!
He made his decision right in the dilapidated radio station to never get attached to you or anyone else again. To only focus on himself and no one else. He is in Hell for a reason, after all. He cackled, feeling the thrum of his power rising in unison with his conviction. Yes. He thought. Yes, he’s Alastor! The cold, ruthless overlord who always has room for more voices on his broadcast. Not some soft-hearted twit who would die for someone! 
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But what he did not realize at the time, just right underneath the hatch, you had heard everything. 
Despite your injuries and losing both of your arms to angelic steel, you had used your strength to trek through the debris and look for him. Now knowing that he despised you, knowing that he sees you as nothing more than a weapon to use for his convenience….well, you could not blame him. You were a weapon when you were alive. You were feared, you were hated, and you did not care at the time. So why did it hurt so much when he said that? You did not know, except it was better to keep your distance from him. 
So you left the Radio Demon alone, staggering away to join the others. 
Vaggie was somehow able to find Sir Pentious’ blueprints for your prosthetics in a fireproof trunk beneath the rubble, and put in a call to Carmilla Carmine to see if she could make them with angelic steel instead of adamantine. Of course, the angelic arms dealer took a look at them first before agreeing to it, but not before telling Vaggie she must ask for your consent to do the procedure and what you wanted to add or remove. You gave your input, and the procedure was scheduled for the following week. Although you could not help with the construction of the hotel, you did assist Charlie by putting together an eulogy and memorial service for Sir Pentious. The princess was not sure when it would be held, hopefully when the hotel was finished. 
You understood, softly promising to be by her side for support, even if you had to be pushed in a wheelchair. Sir Pentious had been a good person, an inventor and a gentleman who was nothing but kind and respectful to you. Even though you offered to pay him for doing repairs on your arms in the past, he brushed it off and instead asked you to join him for tea. He…you hoped he found peace. 
On the day of your procedure, you asked the overlord a question that had been plaguing your mind since the war. “Madam Carmilla, I am a weapon. I was raised to be one, to be used and tossed aside when my usefulness had expired. So…why is it that I am bothered by what Alastor said…on that day?” You did not dare to elaborate on what he exactly said to her, just that he said that he did not want to see you anymore. Be gone from his sight and mind. 
She stared at you for a long moment before she replied coolly, “So I have heard from Vaggie. But I do not share her thoughts. A weapon is lifeless. You are a person. An emotionally stunted one, but someone is living, breathing, and who can still be hurt by what others say about them even if they can’t see it. You are upset because of what Alastor said….and in my humble opinion, whatever you feel towards him, discard it. There is nothing to gain by being close to him.” She then turned away, pulling on a pair of gloves over her hands as one of her daughters placed a mask over her face. “Are you ready to begin? This is your last chance, and I cannot promise it won’t hurt.”
“I am.” You said. “Thank you for answering my question.” 
Carmilla nodded, and proceeded to give out instructions to you and the rest of the staff in the operating room. You complied, not wanting any more time to be wasted on your behalf. At least now you knew why you were upset.  It was because you cared about Alastor. Cared….yes, that is the appropriate word. You had to distance yourself from him. It is what he wanted, so you must respect his decision as the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. 
Yes, it is better this way.
That was the last thought that crossed your mind before a mask was placed over your face, and everything fell into darkness. 
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Alastor did not understand. You were doing what he wanted you to do. He did not want to see or talk to you unless it was necessary. So why was it making him angry? When he congratulated you on a successful recovery from your procedure, complimented your progress in physical therapy per Carmilla’s instructions, or how lovely the eulogy you wrote for Sir Pentious' memorial service, you showed no reaction. You simply stared at him with a hollow expression before thanking him, excusing yourself with a bow of your head. 
He should be elated. No, he is pleased. He is satisfied that his relationship with you has not gone by being professional. Why, you even pull away as soon as he lays a finger on you~! So why does it bother him that you recoil from his touch? No. He…cannot accept it. He cannot accept this.  He needed to speak to you. Discreetly. 
However, now that this new and improved Hazbin Hotel stood in place of the old one, everything is much bigger with the additional square footage; meaning there would be more ground to cover if Alastor is to ever find you, even if you do not wish to see him.
 Niffty, bless her little deranged mind, pointed him in the direction of the greenhouse. Of course, it was much bigger than the old one. But he still saw the old stained glass windows of the Moriningstar family crest lined up on the south side, allowing red light to come through and shine down on seedling trays with new shoots poking out of the inky soil. The clean, fragrant scent of herbs permeated the air as he walked through the rows of berries, juicy melons, and other culinary delights. He did not think this place would already be thriving when you were the only one who tended to it, as the hotel’s groundskeeper. However…this is you. You, who is able to accomplish anything once you put your mind to it. 
He found you hiding just beyond the apple trees, kneeling beside a bush of glistening roses, armed with pruning shears and an apron over your clothes. A watering can sat on the grass by your side. Your back was facing him…which allowed him the element of surprise. Grinning, he leaned forward, stretching his gloved fingers to lightly caress the petals of the rose you were about to snip off. 
“Oh, my apologies dear. My hand slipped!”
You glanced at him over your shoulder, emotionless [Eye Color] irises holding a steady gaze before turning away. “It’s all right. There are others that I can place at Sir Pentious’ memorial site.” You said, raising the shears to carefully cut another rose with a small snip. “Thank you for your concern.” 
The static around him buzzed, swelling in synchronization with his boiling anger towards you. “I see.” He hissed. “I am terribly sorry to disturb you.”
“It is all right.” Snip. “If there is nothing else, please allow me to finish this so that I can go on break. Niffty will not be happy if I am not out of here within ten minutes.” 
“I’m afraid we must discuss something, [First Name].” He pressed on, irritated at your uncharacteristic rudeness. “That is why I am here. So please turn around and look at me.”
You did. You placed the shears down, twisted your body around so that you looked at him straight in the eye. “Yes?” You said. “What do you need?”
He smiled, the static around him coming to a screeching halt and he was much calmer. Finally, He thought. You were looking at him, instead of avoiding his gaze. “I understand that since you have been cleared to return to work, you’ve been quite busy~! However! What I do not understand is why you have been ignoring me.” He leaned forward, feeling his eyes transform into radio dials. “You do not greet me as much as you have before, we haven’t had tea together, nor have we taken a stroll in Cannibal Colony~! So…why are you acting like I am a complete stranger to you?”
“Because I know the truth.”
Any and every thought he could have possibly said to her at this moment evaporated upon hearing your answer. “Pardon? I’m sorry but I didn’t catch that.” His voice leaked through the rising static. He felt his antlers grow, expanding past his ears with cr-crik, crick noises. Like the roots of a tree. 
“I know the truth. I know that you are angry over what happened in the war, how everyone saw you flee from your battle against Adam. I know you wish to unclip your wings and that you utterly despise me. So I am doing what you wish for. To maintain a professional relationship as the groundskeeper and the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. Our goal is to redeem sinners. There’s nothing beyond business between us.” You said with a calm and expressionless composure. “I went there that day, to the radio station. I had gone there to look for you, to make sure you were all right when I heard your words. But know this,” A sudden sheen of ice glazed over your eyes. “If you bring harm to Charlie or anyone in this hotel, I will kill you where you stand.” 
The last thread of patience in his psyche split in half. Before he could stop himself, Alastor pinned you against the ground, his hands on your shoulders and glaring at you, trying to intimate you with his true form, to scare you into silence as he had done with Husk…but you held your gaze. 
“It’s terrible manners to eavesdrop on someone, my dear.”
“And it isn’t wise to attack someone when you are not even at your full strength.” 
In a flash you immediately flipped him over, straddling his hips as you held down his wrists over his head with one hand. The other held a garden spade to his throat and he was burning. That was when he realized you weren’t wearing your gloves, thus the angelic steel is the reason why his skin is on fire. 
“Calm yourself, Alastor.” You said. “There is no reason to be angry when I am doing what you want me to do. Nor to act as you are doing right now. I advise you to take slow, deep breaths and count to five backwards.” 
“Release me.”
“Not until you have calmed down.” The way you replied so calmly, so…lifelessly, made Alastor angry. Angrier than he has felt in a long, long time. Not since his prey had escaped the forest and he did not get to eat them. Not since his mother died, leaving him alone in the world except for a drunken asshole who wasn’t worthy of being his father. Make these feelings stop NOW
“Come to my office in exactly twenty minutes for an evaluation about your conduct at work. Do not be late.”
That was the last thing he said to you before he sunk into the grass as an inky shadow, slithering back towards the greenhouse’s entrance towards his room. He couldn’t believe it. How could you have known everything? How could he not have sensed your presence? Was he that weak? No. No, he assumed he was alone and clearly he had not been. You were an anomaly. You were raised as a weapon; to spy, to kill, to search and destroy upon the command of your master. 
So why does it still bother him? Why does his head feel like it is about to split in half as he goes over the conversation over and over in his mind? Why is his heart falling into the pit of his stomach at remembering your promise to kill him if he harmed anyone here in the hotel? Why does he have this urge to know how you truly feel towards him? Do you still care for him? Do you love him?
In twenty minutes, he needed to know the truth…or else he would go insane.
What Alastor did not realize though, as he holed up himself in his quarters until the allotted time to meet with you, Husk had seen the whole thing from the door. 
He was going to drag you to lunch because Niffty had gotten pissed that you were skipping meals again…and thank fuck Alastor did not see him. Husk, the drunken gambler and former overlord, almost flew over to you with a worried look, grumbling under his breath. Once he saw that you were all right and did not have visible bruises or injuries courtesy of a certain someone, he grabbed you by the hand, leading out of the greenhouse. He was not going to let Alastor hurt you again.
He might be a dumbass, can’t fight worth shit…but you are important to him, and he’ll protect you even if it means putting himself in the line of fire again. 
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