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owlwithanapple · 2 days

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Bird & Fox

Chapter 1

Late at night, you stand alone on a high tower somewhere in Gotham City and look around. It is said the sky in this city always overcast at night, and you can feel the cold wind blowing. If you don't see it with your own eyes, you can’t believe the city is so dark and cold at night.

The environment here is completely opposite to the place you live in. Before you immigrated to Gotham City, you lived in Tokyo, Japan. The city you live in is prosperous because of political management, public security management and economic development.

Compared with Gotham City, dark, scary and complicated. How warm and beautiful the city you used to live in is, and there is always a sense of safety and comfort late at night. But Gotham City is surrounded by weird and Gothic buildings, forming a huge contrast and chaotic atmosphere.

This weird and dark Gotham City is listed as one of the cities with the highest crime rate. On TV, the news channel always reports about the content involved in this city and some dangerous information, such as Joker, Penguin, Harley Quinn, etc.

Because of the experience given by your previous work, you know very well no matter where, there will be similar experiences and commonalities. But there will never be a lack of bright and beautiful images, and countless dirt hidden in the dark alleys.

One day, a righteous man dressed as Batman transformed into the Dark Knight and fight criminals for the city appeared in Gotham City. Because of his existence, the Bat Signal can be seen in the sky every night, as if he is promoting his own ideas.

Since he became a righteous Dark Knight to fight criminals, he has become a spiritual idol in people's hearts and a source of fear in the hearts of criminals, making his desire to stop evil more stronger.

In Gotham City, in addition to Batman fighting criminals, there are other superheroes such as Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Robin, etc. who are also maintaining the safety of the city.

You sit idly on the edge of the roof, with your hands on your thighs, shaking your legs at the empty space, looking up at the Gotham City that is already full of chaos at night.

Seeing a person sitting on the roof of a high tower building, the first thing think of is someone is going to jump off to commit suicide. But you are definitely not trying to do something stupid. You are different. The fact that you can casually run to the rooftop in the middle of the night shows that you are not an ordinary person.

Because of your previous work and some reasons, you were forced to immigrate to this dark city. In the morning, you finally packed your things. Tonight is your first time to spend the night freely in this city.

Now you should be an unemployed vagrant. Although you have not been removed from the list, you have been exiled here by the "organization" after all. The more you think about it, the angrier you get. You were exiled to a strange city because of different beliefs, but you still have to thank the "organization" for supporting you with funding.

You are leisurely and bored. You hum a sweet song in a low voice and shake your head slightly. You are intoxicated in the song then hear the faint footsteps approaching you step by step. You stop humming the song.

The person approaching you stops, you glance back. A tall black figure and a shorter child standing next to him are standing behind you. You vaguely guess who they are.

You remain calm and composed, your face is covered by the fox mask but you still smile. Although they can't see, you cross your hands in front of chest and say "What a beautiful night, everyone."

The tall black figure keeps a distance from you, but from your observation, he is very wary of you. He is wearing a mask, you can't see his eyes, only his lips. He is silent then blurts out "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

You stamp your feet and think about how to answer his question, but no excuse can cover up the fact that you are suspicious, it doesn't make sense that you trespassed into this high tower and sit on the roof in the middle of the night. "I said I came here for a walk, would you believe it?"

The little guy standing next to him holds a katana, with a smile that seems very confident. Your intuition tells you that can't underestimate him. Even if he is a kid, his sword holding method and posture are not ordinary, but a skilled posture.

You noticed the little guy looking you up and down, perhaps he was waiting for his chance, he tightened the grip of his katana, seemingly ready to strike you "TT, you lie without thinking."

He pulled out his katana and pointed at you. You stayed still, hands still in front of your chest, breathing kept balanced, but stopped stamping your feet, tried not to make any unnecessary movements. This was a lesson taught by the "Organization".

When he was about to pounce on you with the katana, the black figure blocked the little guy with his hands in front of him. The little guy immediately stopped and looked at the black figure. At this time, the little guy was confused why stop him.

The black figure looked at the little guy as if giving some instructions. The little guy seemed to understand his intention and put the katana away walked to the side to look at you, while the black figure looked at you and said, "I am Batman. What about you?"

You finally heard the black figure say his title in person. He is Batman. The real person is right in front of you. It feels so cool. You noticed the little guy beside you frowned and looked impatient. "Hello, Batman. It's a beautiful night. Bring your kids to see the night view?"

When the little guy heard you say he was a "kid", his sharp ears immediately stood up, walked towards you with a red face and anger. His attitude towards you was enough to prove he was a kid with a strong self-esteem. This time, Batman did not stop him.

Realizing that you said the wrong thing, he can fight criminals and work with Batman, he is not an ordinary child. It is embarrassing to apologize at this time. He points his index finger at you and says, "Listen, I am Robin. Not a kid! Bitch!"

You feel bad when you hear him use the word "bitch", but he is just a kid. But not an ordinary child, Robin has rich combat experience and skill training.

Seeing him, recall that you were strictly trained in the "Organization" before. You were still 8 years old. No one showed mercy in the sparring battle. Until now, you have become an independent person at the age of 20, but you have been exiled by the "Organization".

Maybe you are not the person in their idealism. You have opposite beliefs and ideas from them. The result is your value judgment.

Robin noticed that you were in a state of vacant thoughts. He looked at Batman in confusion and tried to ask him what to do. Batman just stared at you expressionlessly, waiting for your reaction.

When you were in a daze, Robin slowly approached you, trying to touch you to wake you up. Subconsciously, you came back to your senses and grabbed his index finger with your hand. "Whoops, sorry. I was just in a daze."

Since the two of them have introduced themselves, you can't be rude. You let go of Robin's hand. With your right hand, you put your middle finger and ring finger together and press them on your thumb, and lift your index finger and pinky finger to form a fox shape. "Hello, my name is Kitsune, you can also call me Fox."

You put your hand into the pocket of your long sleeves and took out a flash bomb. They immediately stepped back and got ready for the fight, but you didn't want to kill people in vain. You just wanted to leave here.

You threw a flash bomb into the air, it flashed a dazzling light. Batman and Robin subconsciously used their cloaks to block their sight. When they put down and opened their eyes, you were gone.

Robin ran to the edge and looked down at the 40-story building. There was no trace of you. Batman stood aside and looked around. There was indeed no trace of you. The two of them confirmed that you were gone, Robin was surprised and swallowed his saliva. "That bitch really disappeared."

Batman listened to Robin's words but didn't respond. He was actually thinking, and confused about how you did it. You disappeared just a few seconds after the flash of light, leaving no trace.

The two of them looked for your trace everywhere, but there was no clue. In desperation, they had to retreat temporarily. In fact, you just used some trick to deceive them.

After you return home, take off your mask, place it on the table, remove all your equipment, put them in the closet, close the closet and see the mirror reflecting your naked body. You gently touch each scar, which are the marks of your becoming a "ninja" and the medal of your success.

You don't hate these scars all over your body. Although the scars are deeply engraved on your body, you are very happy, even grateful to have them. This is proof that you have survived, you have experienced the test of the "organization" to prove yourself.

"Kitsune..." You muttered in front of the mirror, code name, the name you used when you were a ninja. But now you are Y/N L/N, just an ordinary woman with ninja abilities.

The Batcave at this time—

The Batcave is Batman's command center, where he monitors all crisis points in Gotham City and the world. It is usually located beneath Wayne Manor and is part of a large group of underground caves.

Batman is replaying the surveillance video with Robin to see the footage of you and conversation. In order to catch your clues and find out your purpose, no clue can be easily let go.

Alfred came to the Batcave and saw the two of them busy watching the video. He carefully made two cups of hot drinks and placed it in front of them. "Master Bruce, Master Damian, take a rest."

Batman stopped the work, leaned back the chair, gently massaged his eyes with his hands. When he saw the hot drink in front of him, he took it up and took a sip. "Alfred, what do you think of the people in the surveillance video?"

Alfred looked at the screen, put his hand on chin and rubbed it gently. You didn't attack them, nor did you commit a crime. You just sat on the edge and stared blankly. "Hmm, it's harmless at the moment."

Robin finished the hot drink and asked Alfred for a refill. Alfred filled the cup with the hot drink and handed it to him again. Robin took the cup and complained to the big screen, "I will definitely catch her next time."

Alfred looked at Master Bruce who was distressed and Master Damian who was complaining. He thought about what he could do to help. He suddenly suggested, "Why not ask Master Tim?"

Batman looked at Alfred. It was indeed a good suggestion. Perhaps Tim had a way to solve this problem. After all, it was he who deduced that Batman was Bruce Wayne. He had a strong reasoning ability. "I will contact Tim later.

Robin listened to what Batman and Alfred said then left the Batcave with a "TT". Alfred put the cup back on the tray prepared to leave. "Master Bruce, I want to ask you. Why didn't you take her down on the spot?"

Batman thought about it realized he could have taken her down, as Robin was also there at the time. But facing you who showed no hostility and showed no intention to escape or kill, he was confused. "I want to confirm who she is? Is she righteous or evil. That's all."

Before leaving, Alfred bowed to Batman's back. "I understand, Master Bruce. I'll leave first."

After Alfred left, Batman was left alone in the Batcave. He thought about Alfred's suggestion and called Red Robin who was on patrol. "I need your help with something."

Red Robin stayed in the alley talk to Batman and understand the ins and outs of the matter. He vaguely guessed he was distressed and confused. "I understand. See you in the afternoon ."

After saying that, he hung up the call. When Red Robin left the alley and went to a higher place to continue patrolling, he ran into Nightwing who was talking gossip and Red Hood was having snacks.

Nightwing waved to Red Robin and invited him to have supper together. Red Hood took off his helmet started to eat hamburgers, and handed Red Robin two fries, "I'll treat you."

Red Robin looked at the two fries in Red Hood's hand and speechless. As the "older brother", he only shared fries with his "younger brother", but he still took it and put it in his mouth to chew.

"Hey hey hey." Nightwing handed Red Robin a bag with hot coffee, hamburgers and fries. "I didn't forget to buy your share." After saying that, he continued to eat.

Red Hood finished eating, crumpled the wrapping paper into a ball, threw it into the bag, and then found a trash can to throw it away later. He opened the cap of the soda bottle and started to drink. When he was halfway through, he put down and ask "Bruce looking for you?"

Red Robin, who was drinking coffee and addicted to caffeine, put down the cup immediately after hearing it. He looked at the other two, and nodded after a moment of silence, "Yes, meet at the manor in the afternoon ."

After listening to Red Robin, Nightwing nodded to indicate that he could, Red Hood drank up the soda and threw it into the bag, "I can't. My motorcycle needs maintenance tomorrow, don't count me in."

"Are you serious?" Nightwing asked him seriously. After all, he didn't want Bruce and Jason to have a hard time. Although the two did have bad memories in the past, Jason was very defensive against people, and that incident also left a shadow on his life.

Red Hood stood up, wiped his mouth, put on his helmet, took a bag of garbage, and held the door handle to indicate that he was leaving, leaving Red Robin and Nightwing sitting there. He thought about it and said, "Let's see, if I finish my work early." Then he left.

Nightwing knew Bruce and Jason had a rough time. The past experience and feelings led to the current collapse, but sometimes, both sides had mutual trust and cooperation.

Seeing Red Robin's self-blaming expression, Nightwing put his hand on his shoulder to comfort. Tim became Robin after Jason died. During that time, everyone had a hard time, including Tim, of course.

Being Robin is a very proud thing. It is very cool to fight criminals with Batman. Of course, there are always crises, just like Jason's death, which has become one of everyone's shadows.

"Although that guy is bad-mouthed, he is still trustworthy." Nightwing comforted the frustrated Red Robin, hoping he and Jason would not have a quarrel again.

"I know, thank you, Dick." Red Robin smiled again and continued to drink coffee. The caffeine he couldn't quit became a source of energy, making him more motivated and confident.

Do you hope there will be Chapter 2?

Leave a comment to let me know 😁

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time-woods · 6 months

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once an evil bug always an evil bug

#adventure time #fionna and cake #prismo the wishmaster #scarab the god auditor #prohibitedwish #he can and will use his cold hands for evil doings #me? projecting? no id never... anyways yea this is just me and my bf at this point #my hands are constantly cold and you know what sometimes id like to do a bit of pranking #sometimes im allowed to be evil as a treat

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steddiewithachance · 1 year

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"You Should Date My Nephew"

"433-6296". Wayne mouthes to himself. He visualizes the little slip of lined paper that's taped to the wall above their phone at home. 433-6296. He could call. But he wont.

Wayne grunts as he lowers himself to sit on the curb outside the plant. He got off work --he pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch-- 36 minutes ago. It's 3:36 am and god dammit Eddie how many times did he remind the kid to set his alarm. How many times did Wayne remind Eddie that his truck was in the shop and that he'd need a ride home in the morning. And every single time he'd mention it, Eddie responded "I got it old man! I'll set an alarm" with an exasperated eye roll and would go back to whatever he was doing. Wayne has tried calling the trailer a dozen times already and damn that boy for being such a heavy sleeper.

433-6296. Wayne could probably solve his problem with a single call, but that would be completely inconsiderate and borderline inappropriate, so he wont. A gust of cold November wind hits Wayne unforgivingly in the face and makes his eyes water. He pulls a pack of camels from his chest pocket and with stiff, shaky hands, lights one. 433-6296. He could call or he could walk home. The walk wasn't easy in ideal weather when Wayne was fully rested. Right now it was freezing, Wayne didn't have his good jacket, and he just finished an eight hour shift. 433-6296. Fuck it.

Wayne stands up and hurries toward the phone before he can talk himself out of this. It's insane, and he knows the poor kid barely sleeps as it is. Knows from Eddie that he'll pick up the phone anytime Eddie has a nightmare and drive over to talk him out of the bad dream, keep him company, or fall asleep on the floor of Eddie's bedroom so his nephew doesn't have to go back to sleep alone in a haunted home. 433-6296 Wayne dials and waits with baited breath.

The phone rings a handful of times before a quiet voice greets him on the other side of the line.

"H'llo? Eds?"

"Uh hi Steve. It's Wayne?" Wayne says quietly into the phone. Steve seems to sober immediately.

"Mr. Munson? Is everything okay? Is Eddie okay?"

"Yeah no everythin's fine. I'm sure Eddie's safe and sound at home. Look, I'm real sorry to wake you, kid, and I'm sorry to even be askin' you in the first place. I know it's mighty unfair of me to call at this time but uh- My trucks in the shop and Eddie was supposed to pick me up from work forty minutes ago but I think he mighta slept through his alarm. And it's too far for an old man like me to walk. Was wondering if I might owe you a helluva favor if you could pick me up tonight, son." For a few moments there is silence. Wayne worries he has crossed a line, for a brief moment he fears he might have burnt the most important bridge in Eddie's life. He's immediately regretting waking Steve up for this.

But then he hears the distinct rustling and thump of someone putting on shoes.

"Of course Mr. Munson, I'm leaving now. I'll be there as soon as I can." And Wayne is once again floored by this kid's kindness.

"Steve, thank you. I owe you son. Whatever you need."

"It's no problem! I'll see you soon."

"See you." Wayne mutters in disbelief and hangs up the phone.

And to think... Wayne used to hate Steve. The thing about Steve Harrington is that his name is haunted, in a way. And the thing about Wayne Munson is that he's a stubborn son of a bitch who will hold grudges on Eddie's behalf longer than the kid himself will. There were countless days in high school when instead of shooting through the front door of the trailer after school with a devilish grin and music blasting from his headphones, Eddie would turn the knob slowly and he'd drag himself into the house, giving Wayne a small nod before disappearing into his room quietly. Wayne felt like crying or punching something when Eddie came home in low spirits. He knew how evil the kids at school could be, and he knew the names of all the bad ones. Wayne always gave Eddie 10 minutes of quiet before he'd knock on his door and gently ask if he wanted to talk. It was a routine they had. He'd ask and Eddie would say no. But then like clockwork, Eddie would open up about his day later in the evening usually while they ate dinner and before Wayne left for work. He'd complain about all the kids that made him feel bad: Hagan, Harrington, Perkins, Hargrove, Carver, and so many more.

So imagine Wayne's surprise on March 27, 1986 when he briefly left Eddie's hospital room to get coffee and returned to Steve Harrington, the bully son of Richard and Nicole, sitting next to his nephew's hospital bed. It had been a long week of worrying on Wayne's part, and an emotional 48 hours spent at Eddie's bedside, so Wayne had very little patience for whatever was happening in front of him. In retrospect, Steve Harrington was looking at Eddie... sweet and tenderly, even back then. But in the moment all he could think about was Eddie returning from school with hunched shoulders and his head hung low.

"The hell are you doing here?" Wayne asked using his gruffest and most intimidating voice, arms crossed, standing in the doorway. The way that Steve startled was like nothing like Wayne had ever seen. He jumped a foot into the air and folded into himself.

"Oh! Mr. Munson. I'm sorry I didn't know you were around. Just, uh, didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up." Steve had said rising from his seat. When Wayne didn't budge from the doorway or respond, Steve nervously fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.

"How do you know Eddie?" Wayne asked trying to keep his firm tone.

"From high school sir. But also through a mutual friend. Dustin Henderson? They play DND together. Dustin and I brought him in after we found him like this..." Steve lifted his head again gauging Wayne's still stern expression and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to interrupt anything I'll get out of your hair."

And Wayne wanted to be skeptical of Steve, wanted to accuse him of doing this to Eddie, but the truth is that Steve sounded painfully earnest. And there's no human explanation for the tiny bite marks all over Eddie's body. Wayne stepped out of the doorway and let Steve take a few steps down the hallway before calling out to him.

"Hey, Harrington?" Steve turned around quickly, looking back with a startled expression, maybe surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. "D'ja see what happened? I mean d'ya know anythin about what hurt him?" Wayne asked more softly. Steve looked around the crowded hallway, with nurses buzzing from door to door. Steve shook his head slightly, apologized, and continued down the hallway.

But Steve didn't stay out of his hair for long. The kid was exasperatingly persistent in being around for Eddie. And while Wayne kept a watchful eye on him, he was starting to get the idea that Steve Harrington was not who Wayne thought he was. He cooked for, cleaned after, and tended to Eddie, asking for nothing in return. Often refusing to stay for dinner when Wayne was home, even if he was the one who cooked it, because he didn't want to interrupt family time. If he brought food from out he always brought something for Wayne, and never took the money Wayne tried to push into his hands for it.

"Here, Mr. Munson. I wasn't sure what you wanted from the diner, but Eddie said you're not picky so I brought you a burger and fries." Steve had said that first time, holding out a bag in front of him.

"You brought me food?" Wayne asked perplexed.

"Well yeah, of course. I wouldn't have shown up with dinner for just me and Eddie." Steve set Wayne's bag on the counter when he made no move to take it.

By now Steve knew Wayne and Eddie's order at pretty much every food place in Hawkins and Wayne and Eddie were getting real creative at finding ways to slip money into Steve's wallet.

On top of that, almost every other day, Wayne gets home from work to find a maroon bmw parked outside his place while Steve helps Eddie through bad dreams. So what could Wayne be, besides grateful, for Steve Harrington's slightly confusing devotion to his kid?

He's snapped out of his thoughts when said maroon bmw pulls up in front of him. Steve is wearing a pair of wired glasses and his hair is all ruffled from sleep. Wayne opens the passenger door.

"You were waiting for forty minutes in the cold? Why didn't you call sooner?" Steve asked pushing up his glasses as Wayne closes the door quickly. And well... Wayne doesn't know how to respond to that.

"I- I shouldn'ta had to call you in the first place, Steve. I'm real sorry" Wayne says as Steve pulls the car out of park and starts driving back towards the trailer park. Wayne glances over at Steve waiting for the kid to say something. They sit in heavy silence until Steve breaks it by clearing his throat.

"Just... I know you're probably mad at Eddie but- but don't yell at him. He's barely sleeping so he really just needs the rest. It's not his fault." Steve ends on a whisper.

A tidal wave of different emotions rip through Wayne. Affection for Steve's caring nature, immense gratitude that Eddie has someone like Steve in his life, disbelief that Steve would say something like that after being woken at nearly 4 in the morning. Wayne was sitting and staring at the most selfless kid he'd ever met. Steve fucking Harrington.

"You should date my nephew."

Steves eyes widen and the car swerves.

"Uh- s-sorry- what?" Steve stammers.

"If I could choose someone for him, the best option out there, I'd choose you." Wayne says honestly, and he didn't even know he'd been thinking it until this moment. But it's so true. After so many heartbreaks over truly terrible men that Wayne could never see the appeal of, Eddie deserves someone like Steve. Steve face softens before checking to make sure Wayne was being sincere. Steve cracks a smile and chuckles to himself.

"What, you think I'm jokin'?" Wayne asks defensively.

"No sir! Not at all. It's just Eddie and I have been dating for months already. BUT- but- thank you for saying that! It means so much to me and truly Eddie's the best thing-"

"You- what?" Suddenly Wayne is embarrassed. Blushing. How'd he... how'd he miss that? And well, he did have a few moments where he thought the two of them were awfully close for a pair of young men, at least one of which who was openly queer, but they'd been through a lot together.

"Why did no one tell me?" Wayne asks turning his face away from Steve who is desperately fighting a huge grin and losing.

"We thought you knew. We sleep in the same bed every night."

"You do what now? Thought you were sleepin' on the floor" Wayne knows he sounds like the protective dad of a teenage girl and not the uncle to an adult man, but his world was just turned sideways. Steve laughs at that and adjusts his glasses before stopping at the red traffic light which almost immediately turns green because no one is out at this hour.

"Oh well. Good, I'm glad then." Wayne says after his mind has stopped spinning. "And call me Wayne already, you basically live at my house." He punches Steve lightly in the shoulder.

"Okay." Steve agrees quietly. He pulls into Forest Hills and stops the car in front of the Munson's place. "Mind if I just check to make sure he's okay before I leave? For peace of mind?" Wayne opens the door and steps out.

"Oh so now you're playing coy about sharing a bed? Just sleep here, kid" Wayne closes the door and heads towards the house. Steve jogs a little to catch up. When they open the door, the sound of an obnoxious alarm comes pouring out from the back of the house which concerns both of them. But when Steve hurries to Eddie's room he sees that the idiot had fallen asleep with music blasting in his headphones. Wayne stops the alarm as Steve gently tries to remove the headphones from his ears pausing the tape inside.

Eddie suddenly stirs and blinks up at Wayne and Steve looking down at him.

"'S going on?" He croaks, rubbing his eyes. Wayne and Steve share a look before Wayne chuckles and pats Steve on the back once before thanking him and wishing him a good night on the way out. After the door closes behind Wayne, Eddie looks back up at Steve. "What's going on baby? What happened?"

Steve slips into the bed and scoffs, fondly. He curls around Eddie and pulls him into his chest. Once they've settled, Steve pushes his fingers through Eddie's until they're all intertwined.

"Did you forget something, Bambi? Was there someone you had to pick up from work at 3 in the morning?" Steve whispers into his neck. Suddenly Eddie shoots up and dislodges Steve where he was leaning against him. Steve groans.

"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit"

"Eddie it's okay c'mere. He's home now, it's all good babe." But Eddie just stares at the wall and pulls a hand through his hair. "No one is mad, just come back here. Let's sleep." And Eddie hesitantly lies back down.

"Did Uncle Wayne have to call you? I'm so fucking sorry Stevie." Eddie asks, sounding embarrassed.

"We had a nice conversation on the way home so it all worked out. You're okay. Sleeeeep."

And right before they both fall asleep, Eddie whispers, "Thanks Stevie, love you."

#steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie #eddie munson #wayne munson #Wayne Munson POV #steve/eddie

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anime-schmuck · 2 months

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Thinking about going to the gym with Simon “Ghost” Riley. Simon teased you last week for how weak your arms were so you’re determined to show him up on legs today.

Of course, Simon being Simon, built like a six foot three tank, still manages to lift more than you. He pushes you on every machine you use, hitting more new pb’s after one session with him than weeks of working yourself.

It’s specifically when he’s watching you do squats that he concocts his brilliant, evil plan.

Once you’re legs are officially dead you two head back to your shared flat, Simon’s big hand switching between the gearstick and your thigh the drive back.

Finally, the second you’re through the threshold of the door, Simon hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. He doesn’t say a work as you wriggle around questioning him, until he tosses you carefully onto the mattress with a half lidded gaze. “Drivin’ me fuckin’ nuts, watching you panting and sweating like ye do when ye struggle to take my cock.” He groans, palming the bulge in his grey sweats, lips quirking into a smirk when your breath hitches.

He crawls over you, who obediently spreads your legs for him, but he tuts. “Nah, don’t think you pushed yourself hard enough.” He grins, and in a split second he’s on his back and your straddling his lap, thick fingers giving your waist a squeeze before he settles his hands behind his head. “Go on, ride me love. Since yer legs are so strong, you shouldn’t have a problem, right?” He quirks an eyebrow, knowing you’ll take the bait.

His words cause your lips to jut out in a pout, brow furrowing in determination. You fiddled your way out of your clothes, pulling his sweats and boxers down to free his hard cock, twitching as the cold air hit it. Simon swallowed thickly, grunting when your soft hand wrapped around him to position him at your entrance.

He sucked in a sharp breath, feeling how wet you were as you sucked his tip in, pausing with a whine. He chuckled, trying to hide how affected he really was. “Too much, love?” His smirk widened further when you shot him a glare, thighs trembling, burning as you continued to lower yourself on his dick.

Simon was big, in every way possible, so it took you a minute before you took him fully. Simon’s groaned, hands finding the fat of your hips now he was buried deep inside you. “Fuck, that’s it love, takin’ every inch. Such a good girl.” His voice was strained, raspy as he struggled to hold back the urge to bounce you on his cock like a fleshlight.

The praise went straight to your core, clenching tighter around his dick with a whine. The combination of Simon pressing against all the right spots inside you, paired with your aching legs rendered you as close to immobilised as a person can get. Your eyes found his, needy and desperate. “P-please Si’.. can’t do it..” Your hands clawed at his muscular chest, feeling his hands tightening their hold in your hips.

“Yeah? What’d you need me to do, pretty?” He sat up, burly arms encircling you, caging you to his chest as his lips found your neck, trailing hot, open-mouther kisses along the sensitive skin. “C’mon love, please what?”

He knew what he was doing, turning your brain to mush, but god the way your teary eyes stared at him so pleadingly caused his cock to twitch inside your gummy walls. Some sadistic side of him loved seeing the physical evidence of you needing him in such a visceral way, which was why he had to be a little bit mean earlier.

“Please fuck me Si’..” You finally managed, and within a second you were once again on your back, Simon’s big hands hooking under your knees to force them back into a mating press, cooing when you whined at the stretch.

His cock slid back inside your needy hole, grinning as he watched it stretch to accommodate him. He chuckled, bringing a thumb to swipe at your clit just to see you jolt at the pleasure.

“Thought you’d never ask. Just lie back and take it for me, yeah?”

#ghost smut #ghost x reader #schmuck thoughts #ghost cod #cod smut #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon fic #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost #drabble #fanfic

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jazjelspen · 3 months

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my angel baby [part 3]

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution: NOT PROOFREAD and in this fic the reader isn't a big fan of adam so qwq apologies adam lovers!! nothing against him at all!]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. alastor attends the court but doesn't do much but watch the mess happen tbh qwq sorries. )

(oh and every flashback that will be in almost every chapter will be out of order! but will always include what age the reader was in at the time of that memory!)

(tags: @wildfire153 @nevermorekisses @corvidae-00 @d0nutsaur @baalzie @luujjvi )

It is the day of the court meeting.

You have never been so glad in the entirety of your afterlife that you made so many good connections to higher angels throughout all your years in heaven.

You managed to convince one of your close friends that usually attended these kinds of court meetings to bring you along as a sort of 'extra advisor', an outside opinion of sorts.. with the exception of not speaking out and interrupting the court while it's ongoing and if you need anything to be said to tell it to them and they'll speak out for you.

Apparently this meeting was entirely set up so that the princess of hell could present a hotel as a second chance for sinners who genuinely wish to better themselves and to go to heaven. Personally you thought that hell was simply their punishment to live through due to their sins, they had their chances. But then again you couldn't imagine what hell was like to those who murdered or committed sins they didn't intend to for the sake of their safety and others.. so a part of you understood where she was coming from as well.

Although.. you genuinely hoped she wouldn't use Alastor as an example since he most definitely doesn't regret a single crime he's done on earth.

You followed your friend inside the court room, taking a seat beside them as you looked down below where Charlie Morningstar and the manager of her hotel, who you know found out is named Vaggie, were prepping to present their cause. Suspiciously, Alastor seemed to be running late since the courthouse seemed to be lacking his presence for these few short moments.. which you weren't exactly sure if that was good or bad.

Once everyone was seated and all was quiet that's when the infamous Adam came and flew in, god you hated that man. You questioned how someone like him could be in a high position in heaven with how many things he's done it just peeved you off.. but you never bothered to verbally question it since you didn't want to find out if mortal souls can be fallen as well since for all you knew only higher angels like the seraphims could become fallen.

Ah, and finally Alastor appeared by means of traveling by shadow.. several members of the court hushing and murmuring after seeing the power that particular sinner seemed to have. Unlike them, you only let out a huff of air through your nose as your skin began to grow cold.. feeling nervous at how the court is reacting to your father even if none of them knew of that big fact just yet. Alastor then set himself beside Charlie on her right hand-side, Vaggie on her left.

Once Adam let out his usual annoying comments that you mentally muted out, that's when Sera finally began the meeting.

Guess you're right on time, Alastor.

"We are gathered here today to determine whether or not a soul in Hell, can be redeemed into the heavenly realm by means of this Hazbin Hotel." she spoke, voice full of reason and seemed very professional. She then gave the rest of the court's attention to the princess. "Princess Morningstar?"

The poor girl seemed nervous and Adam's presence didn't seem to help much either. With a sigh she began as well "Thank you, Seraphim."

You felt bad for the girl, the pressure she must be under. She didn't seem evil to you at all.. in fact with what you heard of her so far she more or less seemed to fit in with Heaven quite well. Oh poor thing.

She cleared her throat, "Webster's dictionary defines redemption as--"

"Objection! Lame and unoriginal."

Hearing Adam's voice made you want to scream.

Oh and so did Alastor's right after.

"Oh here now, no need to be so rude." Alastor's voice interrupted, his tone seemingly playful yet serious "How may we even present our case if you won't even let us explain hmm? Now that's no fair."

Adam scoffed, "Pfft! And why even are you here smiley? Don't tell me something as fucked-up looking as you is gonna be the princess's piece of proof for this shitty hotel, aren't you just another sick fuck?" Laughed the man, an ego bigger than heaven itself.

"I am Alastor, host of the hotel and a sort of co-founder of it as well! I can assure you the Princess's cause and ideas, as bizarre as they seem, seem to be developing quite well!

Now if you'll let us continue, we can at least show you the progress of it so far." The deer demon pointed his hand towards Charlie to give the attention to her once more.

Sera let out a sigh and stepped in to let Charlie continue, with the exception of no further dictionary references.

You sighed feeling frustrated, can't they just let her speak and present herself the way she wants to?

The poor girl seemed to skip through several note cards, Adam continuing to nag her about evidence and yada yada. While he complained your eyes landed on Alastor, your father seemingly annoyed and intrigued by this annoying guy as well.

The few words passed around seemed to deafen on you as you stared at him, trying to see what could he be plotting. Was he to use this hotel as a means to cover something, to bring in more victims, to cause more pain? You were unsure.. he seemed to nice about it. Alastor noticed your prying eyes and side eyed you back as well with that shit-eating grin, making you immediately look away back towards the princess to listen to her once again.

"Angel Dust." she exclaimed.

"Oh yeah. The porn demon! He's totally worth being redeemed." Adam's sarcastic comments and actions only made you see him as childish. You never really interacted with him one on one before since you never needed to but you have seen and heard several things.. you didn't think he deserved to be up here.

"Well if you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into heaven?" Adam seemed flabbergasted by her comment, almost stuck on what to say with how many filler words he uses.

You then put your finger under your chin in thought, 'Good question.. what does it take?' you thought up your own deeds, sacrificing your life for another, your everyday general selflessness, you remember always helping others that needed it and always defended your father from people who saw him as nothing but dirt. To you, getting into heaven takes pure selflessness.

Adam sent a golden paper towards Vaggie, her voice announcing what is says. "Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man.. Are you fucking serious?"

Alastor interrupted right after " I do believe theres a few more things after that if I do so recall.."

Adam practically ignored him and started boasting about himself again. You could've sworn a migraine was to come onto you. Alastor definetly wanted to let out more witty comments but knew he had to behave on this particular day as well. He felt annoyed but his relaxed attitude and smile never let that slip out for a second, he looked perfectly composed.

Your friend, the court member, gently nudged on your arm as a way to ask you if you're okay without verbally saying it since apparently you have been sighing and huffing constantly when annoyed or simply reacting to something.

"Oh.. sorry.." you mumbled towards them, they whispered that it's okay right after.

"Let's fucking see then." Adam snapped his fingers as Charlie proudly presented Exhibit A. Everyone seemed to watch with interest, you with slight doubt and hope for the best.

------(sorry besties we gotta time skip a bit more into the song portion of the court qwq I don't know what else to write heeere im sorryyyyy)-------------------------

The evidence was nothing but clear, his Angel Dust fellow was truly making progress to redemption, it was clear through actions! Maybe there really is serious hope for him after all.

So why was Sera and Adam so adamant in not going further in this?

Your thinking only amplified when the court around you also asked the same thing, about why this soul isn't in heaven then.

It wasn't until the Princess started questioning them as well where Sera was stopping the questioning.

Emily started singing and her words slowly impacted you and as you lingered on it that it made you look down and gaze down at your father once more, his expression relaxed and now more focused on how the situation is playing our rather than helping out.

Alastor was here for the entertainment and laughs, and this man knew that it was just going to get better from here now.

-------------(passing through the song cuz honestly im unsure of what else to add but I just know alastor is watching this shit show go down and maybe try to defend charlie but in a half-assed sort of way.. love the man.)----------------------

Sera's voiced echoed across the court, finalizing her final verdict which made your legs threaten to get back up from your seat again. "I'm sorry.. but this court finds that there is no evidence souls in Hell can be redeemed."

Nono its not fair, not every sinner down there is evil theres still a few that have potential to be here! The evidence was clear! Progress can be made!..

And to imagine all the sinners they've killed up to now.

Adam cackled and boasted more, threatening the trio to attack their hotel first.

Alastor took this to heart and decided to act a bit irrationally, activating his powers as his shadow grew bigger as a way to threaten him back. The two girls begging him to stop knowing that this will only anger the angels more.

"Whoa--p lucky for you I'm not in the mood to fight right now, bye bye fuckers!" With a cackle Adam opened a large yellow portal which slowly sucked Vaggie and Charlie in as they begged not to leave. Alastor on he other hand dug his heels onto the ground and his tentacles kept him on the floor strong and using his microphone cane as extra security to not fall over from how strong the portal was trying to suck him in.

"Geez you just don't give up do you, fuckin' radio freak." Adam's comment made Lute grab her weapon that appeared in her grasp when she extended her hand out, raising it up to strike Alastor that was already struggling a bit to stay in place.

Sera exclaimed with Emily and the entire court gasping, "Adam that's--"

"ENOUGH!" you exclaimed, jumping down and leaping out of your seat to stand in between Alastor and Lute, become a barrier.

Lute scoffed "Get out of the way, you aren't even supposed to be in here"

"Killing him would just make you as bad as any other sinner down there."

She snarled at your comment, resisting the urge to strike you instead.

You turned around to face Alastor with a pitiful look on your face "Get out of here, go home. You're making this worse than it has to." You took a steps closer to him yet tried to stay put so that the portal doesn't suck you in as well. "Leave, dad." you gave him a smile, as if this is the last time you're going to see him ever again. "Resisting heaven in this way will only make this dangerous for you and me. Go."

Alastor's eyes narrowed at you, taking a glance at Adam behind you who was flipping him off before giving his attention back to his little dove.

Without any words he made his powers relax, the tentacles slowly uncurling from his ankles and he went into the portal with a menacing grin look to the court as if indirectly saying that this won't be the last of him.

With the portal finally closed you then let out a sigh, Adam laughing his ass off. "Seems like you got a shitty case of daddy issues huh! You came from that prick's ballsack too?? Did you cheat your way up here or something?"

'I'm adopted dipshit, could say the same thing about you though' your thoughts were then interrupted by Sera scolding Adam who then calmed down and flew off himself away with Lute beside him, so did the rest of the other court angels.

You turned to look back up at her too, an obvious look of disappointment adorning her face for being in a place you weren't even meant to be in the first place.

"_____." her voice made you feel small, "I will discuss with you later about the.. decisions you took today, but now theres more important things coming towards our way. Your apparent father... being a good example of what we need to protect ourselves from." She then proceeded to turn to Emily, talking to her in her own gentle way.

You sighed in defeat, although you didn't see Alastor do anything terrible he almost was about to do something he could have possibly regretted.

You flew yourself out of the court room to the entrance of the courthouse, deciding to walk by foot to blow off some steam.

The extermination was set to happen in a month, that'd give you enough time to prepare..

Nonono-- you can't actually be thinking to go to hell in disguise, help the princess, defend her against the angels in another disguise so the angels don't recognize you then go back home like it's nothing.

Right?

Oh god you were crazy enough to do all that huh. Even when the stakes of winning aren't high at all? When you could die?

Well, dying seems better than living in a hypocritical heaven that was more unfair and unkind as it seemed. Yes you love your friends and your people but.. how could the higher ups be alright with so much massacre and murder at their command, they were just like Alastor to you if anything.

You understood Charlie's cause and are willing to stand up for it.

You didn't want to become a fallen if it was possible.. but you couldn't sit here and do nothing.

You may or may not also be doing this to keep your dad safe, even though unbeknownst to you he was one of the strongest overlords in hell and was powerful as fuck, you would excuse this 'care' you have for him by saying you just want him to serve his eternal punishment for his crimes and not have the second easy way out.

"Fine. Let's get to work."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alastor was currently holding you by the hand as you both walked back to your home. It was an aggressively rainy day in New Orleans with the raindrops falling like hail, various people running or walking through the rain. You and Alastor were just strolling through with him holding up an umbrella to give you both some kind of shelter.

With you being your two year old self you couldn't help but to playfully kick the water on the ground, it irked Alastor a bit but didn't say much until you then decided to jump on a big puddle to make a huge splash.

"Now _____, I hope I don't have to ask you one more time after this. No jumping on puddles so aggressively, at least only when you're playing but right now we are getting home dear. We mustn't have you catch a cold so soon." He spoke sternly, giving you a smile to make you not feel as if he's mad at you.. at least not entirely.

"Sowy.. " you spoke, your intended word coming out differently than you intended at first but Alastor understood your baby yapping just fine.

"Good girl, just don't do it as much now."

Then you stopped doing it but you still enjoyed watching the ripples in the water.

Once you two got home Alastor took his large coat off and set it on his coat hanger, placing the umbrella in a cane holder and and kneeled down to your level to then take your own rain coat and softer coat off and hung them as well, guess just maybe he seemed to care more than he led on with how he double coated you to stay warm.

He then took off your little rain boots as well and set them beside the door, after that you then immediately skedaddled away with a smile on your face to your room. Alastor sighed as he then went to remove his shoes and set them beside the door, exchanging them for cozy slippers that were waiting for him next to your rain boots as well.. thing is you ran off before he was able to have you put on your own matching pair of fluffy slippers for the cold.

He grabbed them for you as he then headed to you room to find you, assuming you were playing he expected a mess but instead you bumped right into his legs! He looked down and saw that you covered yourself in one of your warmest blankets that he recently bought you for the raining season.

"____, dear you're dragging it on the floor." He sighed a little before picking you up and covering you well with the blanket "Let's head over now, we have some music on the radio to listen to for the rest of the day."

He walked over to the living room and set you down on the sofa. This time as you were set down he also covered the blanket around you even more.. basically turning you into a baby burrito so you'd stay extra warm. He then turned on the radio to play some more classical and softer jazzy tunes before grabbing a newspaper he set down that early morning, setting himself beside you and continuing where he left off.

Despite being trapped in the warmth you couldn't help notice something weird, odd, even to you as a toddler. "Papa.." you babbled.

"Yes, dear?" he spoke with his eyes still glued on the words on the page.

"Red..red." you continued on, wiggling an arm out to touch the sleeve of his dress shirt.

"Hm?.." he hummed as he slowly went to look at what you were pointing.

Oh..

Right, yes, red.

"Ah.. yes.. I must've bumped into paint dear don't worry about it. " he gave you a gentle pat on the head before hastily setting the paper back down again and walking over and around the sofa to head to his room "Be a good girl and stay right where you are, I'll be right back." he exclaimed while leaving.

He let out a long sigh as he then aggressively opened his closet doors to change out of his bloodied dress shirt with a large red hand print smeared on his arm sleeve.

How did he not notice that.. that was too close. You wouldn't understand but he could only hope that no other person saw it.

No one better have saw it.

You were still in your blanket cocoon, too comfortable to move out of it. Hearing the tunes only made you relax even more, oh how you loved it.. the sound of rain even made the experience better to you somehow.

"Blabla.. bleh.. pluh.." you babbled in a sing song way from all the music you listen to. You then proceeded to get bored.. easily.

You wiggled your way out of the blanket to then grab the paper that Alastor left, staring at the front page of it.

Of course you couldn't read for shit, but it's good you couldn't since it's front headline is definitely- something..

'BREAKING NEWS: LOCAL POLICE HAVE FOUND EIGHT MORE BODIES IN LOCAL RIVER BANK. COULD THIS BE NEW ORLEAN'S NEWEST BOOGEYMAN AT WORK?'

"_____, don't touch papa's things sweetheart." Alastor popped out of nowhere and gently tugged the newspaper form your tiny hands. "you can barley read as well, don't tell me you want to start reading the news at your little age." He sat beside you, his signature smile shining as always.

In the end, you snuggled closer to him and slowly felt asleep on him as he continued on reading and relaxing now.

Half an hour passed and he finished reading the paper, enjoying a few parts here and there about it. He closed the thin pages to then look down at you leaning on his side sleeping and huddled in your blanket, in peace.

Ah, how cute. He never was a huge fan of kids, in fact he would've given you away long ago at this age.

But it's small moments like these that made him want to keep you longer, the small and peaceful ones, the ones where you two bonded over things you two enjoyed equally. It's gotten to the point where almost couldn't imagine life without his daughter in it.

Oh god, he's grown soft.

This isn't him, it couldn't be. He's heartless, lacks empathy.. he really does.

But when it comes to you it's like it reverses even for a few moments.

His smile widened as he then gently grazed your head with the back of his hand to avoid waking you up.

He started to mumble to himself, "You see.. a boy would have been the son of another family, but you ______ Altruist.. shall be mine." He spoke softly, a sight to behold from Alastor who is known for anything except soft.

Oh but you were his little girl, his daughter, not by blood but unfortunately he accidentally let himself get attached and now he is proudly your father.

He won't ever admit it, even if threatened with death, but he'll always know that in his sick and dark soul his baby girl was his light. This is why he decided to never let you know about this part of himself that he indulged in without shame.

If only his mother were to see him now, she'd be so proud of Alastor that he has at least made a proper human connection. That he's given her a granddaughter.

Oh if only, only she were here now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(thank you for reading everyone! sorry if this chapter seemed a bit lazy or smth qwq I was mostly unsure of how to have alastor and the reader pop in here in there throughout the trial since I wanted to stay true to the show as well but we’ll get more of them very soon!

most likely there will be two more parts after this and it’ll be wrapped up! i will not promise an entirely happy ending for al and his kid tho😭 still deciding on it)

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tiyoin · 3 months

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what if alastor’s darling went to heaven 😧

cw: heavy manipulation, heavy gaslight, alastor being alastor (whom is a shit stirrer,) poor charlie is getting caught up in alastor's schemes again

he’s yandere (platonic or romantic, up to you idc, but I hc him as ace) ofc he’s gonna want you by his side for all of eternity!

maybe that’s why he wants to involve himself with the hotel. so he can get close enough to heaven, just so he can tear your wings off and drag you down to hell with him.

of course he tells charlie about you once she gets the go ahead for the meeting. he asks her to give you this letter if she has the chance.

vaggie strongly opposes this once she see’s husk’s reactions to the mentioning of you. husk, the brute stand-offish bar tender stilled. the bar counter he was busy wiping down left forgotten as his head snapped to alastor’s.

yet his eyes met vaggie’s

“don’t let her get that letter. don’t let alastor near her”

she got the message loud and clear.

about to take the letter from alastor, he flicked his fingers away as his head snapped to hers. her eyes widened.

charlie was too busy gushing about ‘alastor long lost ‘lover’’ that she didn’t notice the hotel’s atmosphere change. the sudden dip in temperature, and the distant sounds of horses.

his eyes stopped boring into hers and snapped to husk, who started cleaning with stupor.

“miss vaggie..” charlie had stopped her bit and joined back to the conversation. off handedly noting how cold it was as alastor handed her the letter.

“i do appreciate your eagerness” his eyes squinted “in delivering this letter, but charlie here” he pats charlie’s head “is the only one i trust to do the job.” he smirked. fully aware of the silent conversation the two employees had.

vaggie gulped, backing away with her hands in faux surrender as charlie once again told him that she wouldn’t let him down!

vaggie didn’t have a good feeling about this. you two were separated for a reason.

he was in hell for a reason

plus it was illegal for believers and sinners to have any kind of contact, as that would violate heaven..

vaggie knew she shouldn’t talk. let alone question alastor. but he was planning on committing a carinal sin.

clipping an angels wings and watching them fall was the worst sin of all.

vaggie couldn’t wrap her head around it. did he really love you? or was he bored and wanted to take being an ‘overlord’ to the next level. to do one thing a sinner, let alone a citizen of hell could ever do.

cause a fallen angel.

“shouldn’t you let her be? you could get her- us into serious trouble by giving her that letter. who knows what might happen. we could get punished and she could”

“fall?“ he finished for her, eyebrow quirked with that same cocky grin on his face.

“what better way to help our group of sinners than to have an angel to lead us to salvation!” his grin widened, yet she never once met his piercing eyes. he squeezed his fist to show emphasis; determination, if you would.

“my y/n is nothing but a saint who devoted themselves to helping people in their life. she was even kind to give dear ol’ me special attention-“

“gross” vaggie cut in, alastor eyes snapped to her for the briefest moment, his facade cracking the tiniest bit before he continued; “this establishment is certainly in need of their expertise if we want the hotel to successfully reform sinners!”

charlie’s smile faltered, “but… she’d be kicked out of heaven…”

forever

that word rang through everyone’s minds. like how lucifer gave the apple to eve, alastor snaked around charlie.

“it’s a necessary evil, is it not?” he questioned, one by one his claws fanned onto her shoulders, his head next to hers as he whispered: “think about all the people we could help, they could help. they should know better than anyone how people in heaven are, what they act like, how they get there-“ he leered at vaggie

“from their own personal experience of course! and it’s so cold and lonely at night without my precious” he sniffles, grabbing a handkerchief from one of sir penticols egg boi’s.

“but we want people to get into heaven… not kicked out” she trails off, suddenly thinking about her father.

alastor rubbed her shoulders before sighing. he detached himself from charlie as stopped in front of her, next to vaggie.

“very well then” he extends his hand mournfully to charlie, eyes locked into hers.

“then there’s no point in having you deliver my love letter anyway” charlie looks at his hand, then his face, before looking at the slightly crumpled letter.

“please, charlie, don’t make this harder for me” alastor continues, empathizing his hand.

charlie looks at vaggie, then to the letter, then to the door and finally at alastor.

“…i’ll think about it” she mutters quietly, tucking the letter into her jacket as alastor’s sad demeanor changes like a mask falling off.

“wonderful!” he grabs charlie and vaggie by the shoulders and starts hearding them towards the portal. yapping their ears off about how they’ll do amazing, and that heaven ‘won’t know what to do once they see you both.’

but vaggie continued to look back, husk’s slightly turned up face didn’t betray the emotion on it. one she never thought she’d see on him.

pity.

charlie left first, tugging vaggie in as she met alastor’s twinkling eyes, and shit eating grin as he waved.

alastor had won, and vaggie knows he’s going to get ready to celebrate his spoils.

i edited it and added some more… things 🤭

#tiyoin 🔎#I posted this on my other acc but I think im shadow banned on it el oh el #im so not normal about alastor #god I love him #going forward these are all ace! alastor #or platonic #I can't see this man in a romantic relationship that involves sex for some reason #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel spoilers #radio demon x reader #yandere alastor x reader

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callmerainman · 3 months

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Alastor in a relationship with a pure hearted s/o

a/n. the relationship can be interpreted as queerplatonic or even romantic if you wish, but not sexual in any nature. hope Alastor is not ooc!

tw! canon typical violence

"cuddled up with a heart condemned, I should love you and I swear I do"

it's true that Alastor is touch averse, but this doesn't apply if it's you we're talking about.

also, we saw that Alastor dislikes physical touch only when it's someone else getting handsy with him. he can be pretty touchy if he wants to and likes to be close to you.

sneaking an arm around your waist, putting his hands on your shoulders, pecking your forehead. also, arms intertwined while walking around the city.

hand holding is more occasional, but not excluded at all.

he likes the sound of your laugh, and has a soft spot for your smile. he thinks that it suits you so well like a perfect-chosen accessory.

veeery protective. he knows you can be naïve and that Hell loves to take advantage of more innocent inhabitants.

he prefers to go with you when you have to leave the Hotel and strikes deathly smiles to anyone who dares to look at you with any kind of intention.

you're the only person who can see him drop his smile sometimes. he doesn't have to use it as a tool when you're around so there's no reason for him to always keep it. he doesn't feel vulnerable around your presence.

sometimes he comes back to the Hotel covered in blood. you don't approve his ways, and he knows, but he's just like this.

you shrug your shoulders, sigh, and then take some towels to clean him up.

"you'll end up ruining your coat and your pretty face like this"

loooves to dance with you. swing dancing specifically. maybe to the rhythm of an upbeat jazz tune in your room.

you were completely wack at dancing the Charleston, but he taught you well since he's an absolute beast at it.

you occasionally slow dance, it's a really intimate moment for you and Alastor and makes you both feel closer to each other. your favourite spot to slow dance is the forest in his room, especially at night under a clear and starry sky.

you like to drink together, he's a classy type of drunk and you make the best conversations while sharing a glass together.

sometimes, he'll start ruminating about the possibility of you redeeming yourself and leaving the Hotel.

he doesn't like ruminating, it makes him feel weird because he doesn't believe in redemption in the first place. so case closed...right?

he says to himself that even if you were to be, he would find a way to let you stay.

but he immediately tells himself that he doesn't want to force you. but he also starts to get concerned because it's not like him to contain himself and his cold heart. more ruminating, more concerned Alastor.

he's aware that he cares about you, and that you're special to him and that he feels a deep rooted love. but he never thought it would affect his evilness and now he's confused.

you like to cook for him, since you're aware that he's a huge foodie. and he loves to do the same for you! he likes to share his mom's recipes.

loves to call you "my darling"

you like to hang out at his radio tower, just listening to him intently while he hosts a program.

sometimes even asks you to join in to talk about jazz!

very occasionally sleeping together, just holding your hands with fingers intertwined.

honestly Alastor doesn't even know what love is, but he just knows that he feels it for you.

#alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #alastor x reader #alastor #radio demon #alastor the radio demon #radio demon x reader #queerplatonic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #writers on tumblr #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x you #alastor x reader headcanons #headcanons

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ridingthatd · 5 months

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.｡.: SUKUNAS FILTHY THING

.｡.: sukunaxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, sukuna is filthy, breeding kink, gojo is involved

sukuna wanted you since the first moment he laid his eyes on you- his seven eyes on you, to be more specific. not only in this life, but in all of your 1000 thousands life, each one of them he only seems to fall in love harder and harder- and each life it gets harder and harder for him to let you go, because you seem to make him promise you the same stupid promise in each of your life- to not revive you, at first he just laughed it off.

but to his surprise you were serious every life before you leave his miserable self, you would tell him to promise you that he wouldn't revive you- that he would just look for you in your other life, since you wanted the same feeling of falling in love with him all over again- you claimed it was the best feeling in all of your life's combined. sukuna didn't disagree, watching you bloosm and live all over again brings peace to his cold heart, he wouldn't want you to be like him- living for thousand of years, being sick in the mind, he's aware to the fact he's pure evil and he doesn't mind that one bit- but to his surprise this life of yours is gonna be different.

"who knew i was gonna see my little flower, bearing a seed of another man" sukuna tsk as he stares at your sleeping figure, looking as beautiful as you have always been, but what's different this time was your round belly, pregnant with a baby, the baby of non other then saturo gojo his moral enemy. sukuna couldn't deny that his very attractive, very lovely little filthy human looked so fucking sexy pregnant who probably has no idea what a waste of oxygen the father of her baby is.

you belong to sukuna.

for sukuna, who’s spent more nights than he’d care to admit furiously fisting his cock to the memory of you.

and seeing you pregnant?

even though he can process the thought that you were swollen with this waste of human being man, sukuna could hardly complain about the sight of you, his shaft straining painfully as he lays eyes upon your gloriously swollen, heavy breasts.

"such a sexy little thing" sukuna growls as he make himself comfortable on your bed, hugging you from behind, completely pressing his front against your back, he couldn't help but groan once he take a look at two large wet spots that have soaked through your shirt heavy, swollen breasts. the milk leaking from them, soaking through your clothes and inevitably trailing down your stomach.

two of his large hands make their way under your nightgown toward your preaky nipples poking through your shirt,so full filled with milk that his tongue is aching to lap on, so that's exactly what he do- as soon as his hands reach your swollen breasts, he form a mouth on his palm and place them directly on your nipples, two of his hands are now sucking, drinking your milk.

he purrs at the sweet taste of your milk, so so so sweet just like the clear liquid that he always used to lap on coming from your sweet little pussy.

you gently moan out once he starts sucking your earlobe in his mouth, he knows this is your sensitive spot- and he knows that you can cum just from him sucking on it and your breast- he knows any minute your body will arche and squirt all over the bed, but what he doesn't know was that as soon as you came milk also started squirting out of your boobs.

sukuna growls at the sight of you making a mess, covered in milk, and your clear cum, you were such a sensitive little flower as he always used to say- but pregnancy only seemed to make you more sensitive.

he smirks thinking about the filthy ways he can tease you, he can use your sensitivity against you, ways he can have you sobbing, begging to stuff you both in your sweet pussy and tight little ass.

but not today he isn't patient with the way he roughly use his other two arms to un tie his kimono, while he kept his other two mouth covered hands full with your nipples still sucking on your nipples that he bets are more swollen and bright red by now.

as soon as he takes his kimono off, he hiss as he free his two hard cum leaking cocks, stroking both of them together, as they make a wet noise from how much he has leaked just by making you squirt.

sukuna keep his sinful mouth-hand latched onto your heavy, engorged tits, greedily drinking every spurt of breast milk that comes leaking out of you, the flow growing steadier with each lap and squeeze.

you whine in your sleep clearly not handling the sensitivity, even when sukuna himself put you to sleep, you still arched, whimpered, whined, squirted, your body missing his-

sukuna roughly flip you to your back, while he's on top of you lining his cock, getting ready to stuff your greedy cunt that's clenching around nothing. "tsk look at this, look at you, such a little whore couldn't wait for your masters cock so you used another man's instead" he tsk at you grabbing you harshly by your neck, not caring if it leaves marks- you're his after all.

he shove his tongue past your lips- the same time he shoved his cock inside of your little cunt. you jerk back, your eyes shooting open- just to roll behind your skull, your body was twitching against his, the more you arch the more you moan out.

sukuna doesn't care that you're awake now, it boils his blood with pleasure to see you this way, so drunk off his dick, can't think straight- sukuna doesn't care as he shove his other cock into your tight ass, tearing through it.

"fuuuuuck just like that so fucking tight" he groans into the ceiling, as he slams his hips into you, earning whispers from your, your body reacting to his cocks tearing through you, he looks at your belly, as he growls out.

"this- this baby is gonna be mine, it's gonna be filled with my seed instead so full of it". he only goes faster and faster- in humanly faster, as he leans in place his forehead on yours, caging you in his arms.

it’s the combination of both of his cock hitting harshly into your sweet, sensitive part of nerves and the sight of milk dripping down his chin as he decides to messily drinks from you that sends you tumbling over the edge, your orgasm washes over you. clear liquid squirting from your cunt and soaking the front of sukunas kimono. squirting on him for the second time, sukuna would do anything to have you squirting on him forever, drowning him with your sweet honey.

sukunas eyes darken as he gently picks up your chin with his two fingers, and coo at you "good girl".

"my good fucking girl".

and what drives sukuna mad was- “yours,” you pant. “I’m yours master", your soul remembers his touch so much that you can speak those words mindlessly.

and when he leans down, holding eye contact with you as he licks up your milk that was rolling down one of your tits, from how his fingers pinched your hard bud and made you squirt it out, your body trembles not handling the sensitivity of your nipples, not handling the two cocks that stuffed both of your holes, making sure you can think about anything but his big fat cocks.

he follows moments after you, driving his length in to the hilt as he groans, fingers gripping you tightly, his thick cock pulsing heavily inside both of your holes, as he fills them in, cunt deep with ropes of cum. as fucked out as you feel, you can’t help but whine at the feeling of being filled with his thick cum, shivers run through you as cum leaks out of your ass, your pussy quivers around the stretch of his cock, milking every drop of sukunas seed from him.

sukuna feels you rocking your hips back into him, and his answering a dark chuckle as he reaches between you. he plays with your overstimulated clit, pressing gentle kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as his seed begins to leak out of you. you moan softly, head falling against the pillow you and gojo share, pleasure mounting inside of you once more. both of his cocks still inside of you , remains of his softening cock, he slowly fucks his cum back inside of you, his rough whispers of praise a warm caress against the shell of your ear as your entire body feels completely boneless.

he bets gojo would love the sight of you like that too.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ end ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ

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hisxthighs · 6 months

Text

KINKTOBER, october 24 — jake, bondage

includes: jake x y/n, bondage, edging, orgasm denial, fleshlight

—

you finally convinced your boyfriend to let you tie him up for once. usually jake was always the one dominating you, taking control. but you wanted to see just how badly you could mess him up.

jake was chucking, rolling his eyes as you locked the fluffy hand cuff around his first wrist. “where’d you even get this kinky shit from?”

his shirt was already torn off because you wouldn’t be able to remove it if his hands were huffed. grabbing the second hand cuff to lock his other wrist to the headboard, you kissed his forehead. “shut up,” you smiled innocently as you locked eyes with him.

he bit his lip, tilting his head, “the dominant role doesn’t suit you baby, why don’t we just give up with all this and you can let me take control of you-”

you roll your eyes as he tries to convince you to stop. “i said shut up.” you kiss down his neck which causes his eyes to flutter shut.

“and what if i don’t?” he whispers, his tongue sliding across the inside of his cheek. your eyes narrow up to that sight and you reply with, “then i’ll leave you tied up here with this erection of yours.”

that made jake shut up. he was watching you straddle his lap, kissing down his smooth chest. you even licked his nipple to see if you could get a reaction out of him — which he bit down on his lip even harder, eyes squeezing shut — “oh? how come i never knew you had such sensitive nipples?” you gently nibble one which causes him to groan.

your tongue laps his nipple one last time before trailing down his stomach, wet slobbery kisses touching his bare skin. you reach the hem of his sweatpants, your hand palming your boyfriends hard-on over the fabric. you could feel it practically throbbing.

“are you really that turned on?” you giggle, watching his facial expressions change the second you allow his cock to hit the cold air. his eyebrows furrow and he licks his lips. you do nothing but tap the tip of his cock with your finger, playing with the bead of precum that has already risen to his tip.

as you continue to tease his cock, giving him absolutely no friction other than the tapping of your finger on his sensitive tip, jakes body twitches, hands pushing into fists as he tries to lunge forward, forgetting he was tied up. he uses his legs instead to thrust his hips upwards, whining as he wants more friction.

“jake.” you tilt your head, looking up at him.

“fuck.” he watches you kneel in front of him.

“c’mon, say it.” you smile, licking your lips as you keep eye contact with him. your eyes stay focused on his face rather than his muscles that were flexing on each side of his head.

“mmm…” he turns his head to look away from you. you sigh, crawling off of the bed and grabbing your car keys next to the bed, your boyfriend watching you get ready to leave him behind.

“wait, no-” jake throws puppy eyes at you which always make you so weak. but you had to stand your ground. if he wasn’t gonna ask you for anything then there would be no point in helping him get off. “please touch me.. don’t leave.”

your eyes narrow down to his cock which twitched the second you looked at it. you cross your arms and look back up at his face. jake tilts his head to get the fallen strand of hair out of his face.

“please…” he slightly bucks his hips up and you immediately shut it down. pushing his hips down on the bed, you say, “fine but you’re not allowed to move.”

“but-”

“no.”

you hear jake gulp loudly as you begin to stroke his cock. he whimpers the second your hand grabs a hold of it. you straddle his waist to make sure he doesn’t move, leaning in forward as you give him a quick peck on his lips. then, you grab the blindfold that you had waiting on the bedside table.

“c’mon, do you really have to-”

“jake, sweetie… you promised you’d let me do anything to you today. remember?”

the last thing he sees before you pull the blindfold over his eyes is your evil, innocent smile. he bites his lip, unsure of what you were going to do next. he feels you get off of him, listening to you rustling through the drawer. it goes quiet for a moment until he feels your weight shift back on his body.

“a-ah!” he moans out as you kiss his tip unexpectedly. he bucks his hips while you’re straddling his waist, your back down facing him as you’re kneeling down to lick his precum up. you knew that you’d be too light to keep his hips down but you wanted to try anyways.

“baby, don’t move your hips, you know better than that.”

he nods aggressively, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. you take hold of the toy you grabbed from the drawer when you first blindfolded jake, smirking at the fleshlight. jake swears he could hear you spit, his heart pounding as he can’t see anything but darkness. biting your lip, you slowly sink the fleshlight down onto his cock, already having it lubed up from your spit.

“fuuuck,” he whines, head tilting back to lean on the headboard. you slowly move it up and down his length. of course it didn’t feel as good as your pussy but when he was this horny, fuck it felt good. your speed gradually gets faster and jakes forcing himself not to buck his hips because he was terrified that you’d stop if he did. his wrists were twitching in their place, wanting so badly to grab the toy and fuck it as hard as he could.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” jakes mouth is opened as his back is arching. your other hand is gently massaging his balls as the one with the fleshlight is only getting faster.

“faster! fasterrrr- pleeeeaseee,” he’s moaning so loudly and you can’t help but move your hips against his stomach, trying to get rid of the aching pain of arousal in your cunt.

“can i- can i cum-”

you feel bad, almost giving in but you don’t. you stop moving your hand when you feel his balls tighten in your hand and he whines loudly. “FUCK- WHY- why’d you stop,” you look back to see a string of drool dripping down his chin.

“because i like seeing you like this… you look so needy,” you turn your body around to face his, kissing his lips hungrily. he wasn’t expecting it of course, he was blindfolded so he couldn’t see your next move. speaking of next move, you were already back to fucking his cock with the fleshlight.

after edging him three more times, watching your boyfriends body twitch at any touch to his cock, you finally let him cum. your hand is tightly holding the fleshlight, pounding it on his cock hard and fast. he’s moaning, almost screaming when he finally cums. you can see the white ropes leak out from the sides down his cock.

“t-thank you,” he whimpers when you pull the fleshlight off of him. you turn back around to lift his blindfold.

“you didn’t think we were done, did you?”

#enhypen smut #smut #enhypen #jake enhypen smut #jake enhypen #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut #sim jaeyun #sim jake #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #kinktober #park sunghoon #enhypen jungwon smut #heeseung smut #jay jongseong park smut #kinktober smut

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coryosbaby · 5 months

Text

—1-800-ʙᴀɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴏᴅꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ !

(Dark! Dbf! Anakin Skywalker x fem! Reader)

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: your parents leave you home alone to tend to the christian faith. It’s a good thing that your daddy’s friend is there to help you atone !

୨୧ Content warning . Dubious consent (reader is naive, but consents), blasphemy & strong religious themes, manipulation, baby trapping? age gap (reader is of in her 20s), weird incest names but they aren’t actually related // innocence kink, god complex, loss of virginity, size kink, oral, pnv, missionary + full nelson position

Disclaimer: I am not religious, though I do know there are people that are. pls block if it bothers you! This is solely fiction and not meant to offend anyone, and I don’t condone using religion as a way to manipulate or hurt others. Thanks! ⋆｡˚ ⋆

Your parents leaving you alone is honestly a scary experience.

Although it’s fun (having the house to yourself means having the large flat screen tv in the living room), you’ve come to find that at night you’re quite afraid of the dark. And of course, your family has left on an adult-only Christian retreat and has left you home alone.

Sure, you’re more than old enough. But you haven’t been exactly… exposed to the world around you. So the idea of monsters and demons filling the dark corners of your home, it becomes even more prominent.

You try to concentrate on your bible, try to read through the verses where God tells you to fear no evil, but the paranoia is creeping in on your cold spine like a winter’s chill. You try to listen to music, too, to drown out the whispers you hear in the night.

But to no avail.

You decide that you have no choice but to call the only contact that’s available to you.

Anakin is your godfather, in the sense that he’s your father’s best friend. He’s always been around, and he’s always helped you with your studies. Anakin— uncle Ani, as you sometimes call him, lives less than a few blocks away. He always tells you that if you need him, he’ll be there. So it wouldn’t hurt to ring him up, right?

Pressing the dial on your phone, you type in his number with ease. Biting your thumb nail you wait for him to answer. He picks up on the third ring.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?”

You smile at his voice, the one that always gives you that tingly feeling in your stomach. You suspect that it’s because he’s your favorite person.

“Everything’s fine, Ani. Are you at work?”

“It’s a Saturday, isn’t it?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Then I’m off work, sweetheart,” he replies softly, and then you get that tingly feeling again. “Why did you decide to call?”

It’s not in the sense that he’s annoyed— he’s genuinely curious. You nervously rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.

“Well—“ you start, embarrassed. “Mom and dad are out, ‘n— it’s dark.”

“Dark?”

“It’s—“ you can feel tears beginning to form in your eyes as the wind creaks outside. “I don’t like it, Ani. I don’t wanna be alone in here... Please come.”

Anakin’s cock presses against his zipper at the sound of your whiny, desperate voice. He palms his bulge through his slacks.

“Yeah, baby. ‘Course I’ll come,” he pauses. “Just gotta do something first, okay? Then I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

You sniffle, the tears beginning to fall now.

“Okay. ‘M sorry.”

“For what? Don’t apologize to me sweetheart. Just wait there.”

—

A good forty minutes later Anakin is there, and when you open the door for him you latch onto him like a leech— your hands wrap around his waist, your bury your face into his fit chest, and you whimper against him as he coos gentle reassurances to you.

“It’s okay, baby. Uncle Ani’s here.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

He brings you over to the couch, sitting you on the cushion beside him as he looks down at your pink bible. He notes that you use the wooden cross necklace he had bought you for your nineteenth birthday as a bookmark.

“Been readin’?” He notes, looking down at the opened pages. You’ve been highlighting some verses, and next to this book there’s another: Christianity for Girls.

“Mhm.”

Anakin picks it up with idle hands. He flips to the first chapter.

“C’mere. Want me to read to you?”

“Yes, sir.” You reply, and with a gentle flick to your hair you begin to climb into his lap. It’s not uncommon for you to do this— he’s so comfy and warm. Even though sometimes the things in his pocket tend to poke against your bottom, you don’t mind. It’s worth it if Ani has his big arms wrapped around you.

He grunts as you settle down on him— his cock twitches as he feels your panties hit his lap. Your skirt is covered just enough to not expose you, but it still rides up as you sit down. His hand grips your thigh, and with the other he settles the book in his palm.

“Chapter 1,” he clears his throat. “Rules.”

Well, okay. If you say so.

“Girls should always follow their faith in God.”

Fair enough.

You nod along, as he reads the next.

“Girls should go to church every Sunday.” He smirks, turning to you. “Do you go to church every Sunday?”

“Of course! I love church.”

Anakin chuckles, flipping to the next page and adjusting himself from underneath you.

“Rule number three,” he says. His voice hesitates as he reads the next line, then he awkwardly clears his throat. “No premarital sex.”

Your brows furrow, bottom lip pulling between your teeth. “What’s that?”

He sucks in a breath, his cock beginning to become hard for a second time today.

“Sex? It’s—“

“No, no,” you giggle, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. “I meant— I know what sex is, Ani. Sort of. But.. what is premarital sex?”

“It’s sex before marriage. Doing it with someone you aren’t going to devote yourself to.”

“Oh.” You twiddle your fingers, eyes averting down to look at the ink splattered pages. “But— if you do it with someone you’re going to devote yourself to, without being married anyway, isn’t that still non premarital? I mean, in a way, you are married…sort of.”

Anakin shrugs, resting his head on your shoulder. You try to ignore how the closeness of his breath makes you tingle.

“Dunno, honey. I guess so. Never thought of it that way.”

You nod, wiggling around on his lap to get more comfortable. Anakin’s fingers grab your hips with a firm hand.

“Have you ever done it?” You ask. “Premarital sex, I mean.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle. Something in him is breaking apart, all these years of pent up sexual frustration for you beginning to come to a head as his resolve crumbles.

“Yes. Many times,” he coincides. “With a lot of people I didn’t care about. I shouldn’t of done that. It’s bad.”

Your face fills to the brim with heat, as the tension in the room grows incredibly thick. Your eyes widen when you feel him hump against your clothed cunt.

“What about you, baby?” He whispers against the shell of your ear. “Have you done it?”

You stutter, hesitating, and that’s when Anakin gets his answer.

“Right. ‘Course you haven’t,” and then, quietly, as if to himself, “Too precious for those little boys…”

You let out a small sound in the back of your throat, that tingly feeling growing evermore prominent. You don’t know why you’re feeling this way. Maybe it’s the heat in the room, maybe it’s your claustrophobia.

Or maybe, you think, it’s the devil.

White hot heat coils in your private parts, and you try to get off of Anakin to get rid of feeling. He tsks, grabbing your hips and shoving you back into his lap. You whine, hands gripping is in an attempt to get away.

“Ani.. c’mon—“

“Do you touch yourself?” He asks darkly. You let out a little gasp. “Do you touch your princess parts, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, almost too quickly, and can’t help but press your thighs together. Anakin is having none of it.

“Liar,” he hisses. “You have. Don’t lie to me, little girl. I know when you’re lying to me.”

“I’m sorry!” You whimper against his harsh grip. “I-I stopped! I did, I really did, and I’ve been meaning to repent and atone for my sins but I haven’t yet…please, uncle Ani.”

Tears of shame begin to fall from your eyes, wet and salty. You let out a little cry. Anakin softens a bit, his grip on you loosening. He wraps his arms around your tummy and quietly shushes you.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, angel, I know you didn’t mean to,” he coos, as your hands move around to rest in the locks of his hair. “Sensitive baby. I know it’s hard not to touch yourself down there. ‘S okay.”

“Promise?” You sniffle, turning your head to look into his eyes. He smiles.

“I promise.”

Your eyes innocently move down to his lips, that feeling growing inside even more.

“Ani..” you whisper. “It’s.. I want to.. to touch myself again. I don’t know how to control it…”

He strokes your hair out of your face with his fingers, cooing again.

“It’s okay,” and then, after a moment, with his cock pressed flush against your cunt, “I can help. Do you want me to?”

“But.. isn’t that premarital sex?”

He presses a kiss against your earlobe.

“You love me, don’t you? And I know I love you. So isn’t that marital sex?”

Your brain has turned into a puddle. Softly, you whisper out, “yes.”

He smiles against your skin, his hands sliding up past the expanse of your thighs.

“There’s something they don’t tell you about sex,” he murmurs. “When you let the man you love inside you, it’s a way to celebrate god. You become one with god.” He quirks a brow, watching you listen closely to him. “And you atone. Don’t you want to atone, baby?”

Your doe eyes look up at him, and you nod. He grins, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wants you. His thumb pulls the flesh of your bottom lip down and he watches it bounce back against your teeth.

“Why don’t you give me a kiss? Hm, pretty?”

And just like that, he’s got you. Your lips, ever so softly, come up to peck his. He smiles.

“Again.”

And you do kiss him again. Only this time, he presses hard into your mouth and it’s not long before his hands are tangling in your hair and he’s rubbing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s all surreal, this man below you, his cock hard. You don’t know that, of course. Pulling away from him, you have a confused look on your face.

“What’s always in your pocket? ‘S poking me.”

Anakin doesn’t say anything. He just laughs at you, and leans in for more of your kisses. You get too lost in the feeing of his hands massaging your inner thighs to press him for an answer. But you find out soon enough when you feel him push your hand down into the front of his pants. Letting out a small squeak you feel the warm skin of his cock, and something tugs at your lower tummy again.

“Oh.” you say softly, understanding. It was never something in his pocket— it was him.

“Feel what you did to me?” Anakin huffs out, as he guides your hand up and down on his length. “That’s my cock, baby. It’s what happens when I get really excited to see you.”

A small smile grazes your features at the thought of Anakin liking your presence. A whole lot, it seems, because his body is physically reacting. He grunts when you squeeze his length out of curiosity.

“Does it hurt?” You murmur, watching him.

“Not at all,” he coincides, adjusting you on his lap. “Feels good.“

And okay, that’s even better. Now you’re making Anakin feel good. Pride floods your chest. Watching him, you feel his precum drip down your fist.

“Can I see it?”

Your voice surprises him, and he’s nodding so quickly that it seems like he might break his neck.

“‘Course, pretty girl, can watch it all day if you want to…” looking at you hungrily, he mutters in a soft tone, “C’mere, get on your knees.”

Confusion muddles your brain, but not as much as the ache to please him. You crawl off of his lap, and he takes one of the couch pillows and places it on the floor.

“Sit.” He commands, and you rest your knees on the pillow and your small hands on his big thighs.

He unbuttons his fly, then his zipper. His bulge is straining against his briefs, a wet patch on the front from his arousal. Gulping, you watch as he pulls his pants and underwear all the way down and slips them off.

His length springs free, dripping with pre and insanely long. Your eyes widen as you watch it, wondering: where does it go?

Okay. So, you have a vague idea of where it’s supposed to go— somewhere in you, but you don’t know where. But either way, you know for for a fact that wherever that is isn’t adjustable enough for such a big thing. Your face floods with embarrassment.

“Where do I…” you start, quiet. Anakin furrows a brow, grabbing his cock into his palm.

“Where do you what?”

You avoid his gaze.

“Where do I.. put it?”

A smile quirks on the man’s lips, stroking himself to the sight of your pretty face peering at his cock.

“Your mouth, sometimes. But especially where you touch yourself, angel. Your cunt.” He tilts his head, not shaming you but trying to explain. “Do you know what your cunt is?”

You shyly nod, knowing that that’s what some of the boys around town called that spot where you touch yourself. And now, feeling this odd tingle inside you, it all makes perfect sense. It wants Ani inside.

But you frown at him.

“It won’t fit,” you say sadly. “‘S too big”

“It’ll fit, honey. Just have to stretch you first.”

Stretch you? That sounds painful! Fear courses through you.

“Stretch me?” You say worriedly.

Anakin seems amused by your reaction.

“It’ll only hurt a little, then it’ll feel really good,” he explains. “I promise. Don’t you trust me?”

Your head moves up and down, and you know that it’s true. He smiles softly, and then he’s tapping your lip with his finger.

“Open,” he says.

Your parted mouth falls completely open, pink tongue lolling out as he places the tip of his cock on it. It takes you by surprise, and your lashes flutter as his taste evades your senses. It’s an odd flavor— not too bad, but not too good either. Though, the thought of it being from Ani makes it all worth while. He slaps himself against your tongue a few times, the wet muscle making a plopping sound as his stringy precum creates a small puddle in your mouth. He watches, proud, and he praises you in the most gentle tone he can muster.

“Good girl. Such a pretty mouth, can’t wait to cum inside it…”

And that makes your eyes shut tight as you let out a loud whine, knowing that his cum is another delicious fluid that you will happily drink up soon. His cock guides itself even more into your mouth, the cockhead disappearing in between your plush lips. You use your mouth gently, treating his cock with care, not wanting to hurt your uncle Ani. He grunts when you swirl your tongue around him.

“Mmm,” he breathes. “Lick it, baby. Like an ice cream cone… yeahhh. Just like that, sweet girl.”

You hollow your cheeks around his mushroomed head, your brain becoming fuzzy at the feeling of his length moving in and out of your mouth. Suckling him, he’s soft and warm on your tongue.

You do this for quite some time. Anakin’s thrusts speed up, and he makes you take more and more and more. When you choke on him for the first time he tells you that it’s okay— “just get through it, baby, don’t you wanna be good for me?” And of course you do, because it’s Ani, and he’s really handsome and he smells really nice and his hands are so big as they card themselves through your hair. You can’t get enough and you’re almost angry he hadn’t shown you this sooner. Your vision is dizzy as he uses your mouth.

On a particularly harsh thrust that makes your throat spasm around him, Anakin begins to make some very pretty noises. Drool leaks down your chin and chest, your mascara running, his balls slapping against your chin. He groans loudly.

“Gonna cum,” he mutters out. “Gonna fill up your throat. Do you want that, sweet girl?”

You can’t say anything, but you try your hardest to nod around his cock. He gets the message. And with stuttering hips, salty fluid shoots into the wet canal of your mouth. It fills you up until you’re choking, and as Anakin rides out his high his cock practically coats itself in cum as he moves in and out, in and out. He pulls you off of him after a moment, and with a mouth full of spend you gasp out for air. Anakin’s got this possessive stare in his eyes as he looks at you.

“Swallow it.”

You do. You gulp it down excitedly, and with a small “aaaaa” you stick out your tongue so he can see that you’ve consumed it all. Anakin looks down at you with a grin on his face.

“That’s my girl.”

—

“I want you to… to put it in me.”

Your voice speaks softly in the darkness of your room, rain pattering against your window as Anakin sits on your bed across from you. It’s been a week since your last… encounter. Your parents are out once again— and as requested, Anakin had shown up on your doorstep to keep you company. After a mug of hot chocolate, your favorite, you had invited the man into your room. A cross is around his neck, shiny with a silver chain. His hair is messy, his fingers clad in silver metal rings. You want to bite them.

Anakin smiles, pretty teeth shining.

“Do you know the story of the Virgin Mary?” He asks, out of context. Your eyes light up. Mary is your favorite biblical figure.

“Yes!” You reply to him. “She got pregnant by God.”

“And how did she do that?”

“By magic!” You say. “She gave birth to Jesus.”

Anakin chuckles, kissing your forehead softly.

“Such a smart girl. But sweetheart, magic didn’t give her a baby.” At the sight of your confused face, he continues. “Sex did. That’s how all babies are made.”

Heat creeps up your neck, your face puzzled. “So you’ll give me a baby?”

Anakin should be frightened at the thought of getting his best friend’s daughter pregnant, but he isn’t. In fact, he smiles, his touch leaving tingles against your skin.

“If that’s what you want. Just imagine, angel..” his lips brush against your ear, smoothing back a strand of your hair. “A beautiful baby. My nose, my lips.. those pretty eyes of yours.”

You bite your lip, your heart fluttering. Having Anakin’s baby would be your dream! Having a house with him, children running around, Anakin coming home from work everyday…

Oh, but daddy would be so mad.

He would never look at you the same again. He would be ashamed, he would damn you to the deepest pit of hell.

You think these things so incredibly, but once Anakin’s lips press against yours all of those things go away. He kisses you slow, sweet, gentle. His stomach presses against your tummy.

“I can’t wait to see it. Your little belly, all swollen with my baby..”

And daddy is out of your thoughts and replaced with a new, different daddy: Anakin.

It’s not long before he’s got you laid down on your ruffled pink sheets, your baby blue nightgown gone (“cmon, let me see that pretty body”), with Anakin’s lips trailing down your neck. He’s gotten you prepped, used his fingers and tongue in oh so many ways that had made you quiver, used your throbbing cunt for his own meal. When you spread your legs for him this time, it’s so he can rub his incredibly hard length against the lips of your pussy. Delectable and sweet as he remembers, Anakin watches the way your leftover cum and slick coat his length generously.

He’s never seen a cunt so cute, so fat, so swollen and precious. He taps his cockhead against your clit, listens to the desperate little pleas you let out as you look up at him with doe eyes.

“Please, Ani, want your baby.”

“Please, daddy, put it inside me. My cunt’s so tight and wet for you..”

You don’t say that last part, Anakin’s imagination runs wild, but he knows you’re probably thinking that— thinking that as his mushroomed tip pops inside your entrance, stretching, burning. Thinking that as you cry, your salty tears his most delectable meal besides the thing in between your legs. Thinking that as you grimace, give him that pained look as he fully sheathes himself inside.

And then, he begins to move.

It’s like a fire in your gut, at first. Hot, burning, grating. But soon it gives way to something else— something not even his fingers can create, something that’s absolutely out of this world. Your nails dig into his back, leaving red welts along the skin, and you should apologize but you can’t bring yourself to care. Ani’s whispering something in your ear, something dirty, filthy, and deprived; you enjoy it so much, you really do, as he speaks to you like this.

“Good girl, so tight. Daddy’s so happy when he fucks his little princess.”

“Look at that, how red and swollen your little pussy is. Is my cock too big for it?”

After harsh thrusts, skin slapping against skin, and curled toes, Anakin pulls out of you. You almost sob from the loss, but it isn’t long before he lays you on top of him and slips himself back into your sopping hole, pulling your ankles behind your head. This causes your eyes to flutter open again, a small moan leaving you. Anakin brings his hands around to hold your legs and head in a chokehold. He fucks you like that, all twisted and overstimulated.

Looking down, you watch as his length fills you to the brim and moves in and out of you.

“A-Am —“ you sniffle, a pleasured sob racking through your throat. “Am I being good, Ani? Is… Is god inside me now?”

Anakin groans, his hips pressing even harder against your raw fucked pussy.

“Yeah, baby,” He breathes, his hand pressing against the bulge poking out of your lower tummy. “God’s in you. Right in this little tummy.“

You mewl, understanding his words, the blasphemy in them. A blush coats your cheeks as you murmur out, “don’t say that.. ‘s bad. You’re being bad.”

“But I’m making you feel so good. Aren’t I, baby?” He taunts, with a hint of malice in his voice. “Isn’t this what you wanted? A thick, hard cock to fill up this little pussy?”

You shake your head, trying to deny yourself this pleasure you can’t contain. Anakin chuckles.

“Yes, it is. I can tell when you’re lying, little girl... oh, look at you. Little legs are shaking. Poor baby…”

You should feel guilty for all the dirty things leaving his sinful mouth. You should hate him and find him icky and push him away. Hes a dirty, filthy man.

But… he’s your Ani. The man who protects you, hugs you when you’re sad, buys you your favorite lip gloss and stuffed animals. And that cross is dangling in pressing against your back, cold and heavy like a burden but still turning you on and— he smells so good, and although you keep trying to move away from his harsh fucking, you know in your mind that you don’t want him to stop. Little sounds escape your throat with each thrust, moans and whines that sound like a wounded animal. But you are far from wounded— unless you count the soreness you’re probably going to feel tomorrow from Anakin pounding your guts.

Grunting, his arms flex on each side of you as he grasps your body with firm hands.

The man’s cock moves against your walls harshly, slick penetrating the skin of your thighs and making you shake. A smirk glazes his lips as he watches your face contorted in pleasure, and your neck is craned so you can see every facial expression he makes.

You thought you had never seen God. But right now, you might not be so sure.

“Good little angel,” he groans gently. “Such a tight little fuck hole for daddy.”

You want to be disgusted by the name, wanted to be disgusted since the first time he said it, but before you can think too hard the tip of his mushroomed head slams against a certain spot that has you sobbing out, “daddy, daddy!” against your own accord. He moans himself at the sound of your pleasure.

“Good fucking girl. Hittin’ that princess spot so good, yeah? Pussy feelin’ good?”

Your eyes roll back, your body going limp like a rag doll as you relax against his jackhammering thrusts. It all feels too good. The Bible always talks about heaven and you think that this is truly it: Anakin below you, holding you down, humping into you like an animal, as he spews disgusting phrases into your ears.

Maybe he isn’t the devil. Maybe he’s God.

You can feel something building up in your tummy, the familiar butterflies now turning dark like moth wings, scraping against that one spot over and over and over. God grins from below you, and bringing his hand up he forces your mouth open with his big fingers. His spit lands down on your tongue, wet and warm and perfect.

“Swallow.” He commands, and you do it greedily. Your voice moans for more, aches for more, and he does it thrice.

“Do you trust me?” He growls. “Do you trust you uncle Ani, baby?”

“Yes! Yes sir.” You whimper, and you know it’s true when it falls from your lips. He forces his fingers to press even harsher around your head. Your ears ring, a pressure beginning to form in your skull.

“God’s got you,” Anakin growls. “God’s got you and your life in his hands. And you know what?”

You don’t say anything, just shake your head as you try to catch a breath of air.

“He’s not gonna let it go.” He continues. “You’re gonna feel this, honey. You’re gonna get fucked like this all the time—“ your vision is blurring, his words making you spasm. He brings his fingers down to that swollen button on your soaked pussy and rubs in harsh circles. “— When daddy thinks his precious little girl is asleep, when he thinks she’s praying to god, she’s going to be praying to me. Choking on my dick, getting fuckin’ bred. Do you want that? Do you want my cum, you fucking slut?”

You can’t really hear him anymore; your body has gone completely limp, your eyes fluttering shut as you ride out wave upon wave of pleasure. You’re still breathing, you know you are, but you fall unconscious in Anakin’s harsh grasp.

And when he sees you like that, all fucked out and deadweight, he groans and begins to pound you harder.

#bunny spelling Anakin right for once?!!#bunny writes ͟͟͞☆#anakin Skywalker #anakin Skywalker x reader #anakin Skywalker x fem! reader #dbf! Anakin Skywalker #dilf! Anakin Skywalker #anakin Skywalker smut #dom! Anakin Skywalker #star wars #Hayden Christensen #dark! Anakin Skywalker

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serpentandlily · 4 months

Text

Untouchable VIII - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst angst angst

a/n: Hey guys! Sorry I took so long to update this story. I got major writer's block for it :(( This chapter is short but I wanted to get something out to you guys. We're almost at the end though! One more part after this and then an epilogue <3 Thank you guys for all the kind words/support! I don't have a lot of free time so I'm shit at replying to your comments/asks but I promise I read them all and they make me so happy! Hope you enjoy!

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part VIII

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You stumbled backwards, away from the evil sorcerer who was hovering above the lake. You frantically looked at Cedric. “Please, Cedric, what is this?”

He didn’t even look your way. You kept stumbling back until you knocked into the hard chest of one of the guards. He grabbed you by the upper arms, locking you in place despite your attempts to wiggle free.

“I brought you the girl,” Cedric said to Koschei. “Now it’s time to uphold your part of the deal.”

You twisted to look up at the guard. “Deal? What deal is he talking about?”

But the guard ignored you too.

Koschei waved a dismissive hand at Cedric, his eyes still lingering on you as if you were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. "Yes, yes. You will have my support to overthrow your father."

"I need more than just your word," Cedric grumbled. "I'm not handing over the girl until you make a bargain with me."

Koschei laughed under his breath. "You wish to make a bargain with me?"

While the sorcerer's attention was elsewhere, you realized this might be your one and only chance to break free.

You threw your cuffed arms up around the head of the guard holding you in place and bucked forward as hard as you could, effectively tossing him over you and onto the muddy ground. A move Azriel had taught you once.

You ignored the shouts and yells as you darted off towards the wooded area that surrounded the lake. You couldn't winnow away, not while the faebane handcuffs were still on you. But maybe you could run and hide, buying yourself some time to think of an actual plan to escape.

You darted into the trees, forcing yourself to run as fast as you could. The air was cold, making it hard to breathe but you pushed yourself forward. You could hear the pounding of feet running behind you. You chanced a glance over your shoulder to see the three guards chasing you but no Cedric or Koschei.

One of the guards winnowed into the clearing in front of you, causing you to scream as you ran straight into him, knocking both of you on the ground. You rolled off him before he could grab you and winnow you away, pushing yourself to your feet. The guard snarled, getting off the ground faster than you considering his hands were free.

"Don't you run," he growled at you.

You took a step back. Another.

Rhysand! Help!

You screamed and screamed for your brother in your head, even though you knew he wouldn't be able to hear you from this distance. You were fucked.

"My brother will come for you if you don't let me go," you hissed at the guards, keeping out of their reach. They were circling you like they were predators who had just found dinner.

One of the guards scoffed. "With Koschei on our side, your brother won't be able to do anything to us."

"Koschei is offering his support to Cedric to kill the King," you shouted back. "Not to help Vallahan fight against the Night Court and its allies once my brother has realized what you've done!"

That seemed to make the guards pause for a second, the three of them exchanging glances as if now just realizing how stupid the Prince's plan was. Mor knew you were going to visit Cedric. That's where they'd look for you first once they didn't hear from you. And you knew your brother would rain hellfire down on the Prince's territory to get you back.

Suddenly a loud noise cracked in the air like two boulders smashing against each other, causing the ground to rumble. You fell, your legs collapsing, as three people winnowed into the clearing. You let out a cry of relief. Your brother stood in his fighting leathers, looking ready to murder with Cassian by his side. But it was Azriel who made you falter.

You had never seen him look as angry as he did now—it almost spiked fear in you despite knowing none of it was directed in your way. He looked feral, unhinged.

The three guards around you were misted by your brother before you could even blink. Their blood rained down on you, still slightly warm. You gagged, rolling over and trying to push yourself to your feet.

“Y/N!”

You heard your brother shout but his warning came too late.

You felt someone grab you by your hair, lifting you off the floor. You let out a cry of pain, your cuffed hands rising to grab the attacker by their wrist to get some of the pressure off your scalp. You were turned forward to face your brother and the two Illyrians just as the cold metal of a dagger was placed against your throat.

“Don’t move,” Cedric ordered and you realized it was him who had you in his grasp.

“Get your hands off of her,” Azriel growled. It was dark and full of primal rage. You knew Cedric felt it by the way his body shuddered in response but he held his ground.

“I don’t think so, shadowsinger,” Cedric hissed.

Azriel’s shadows poised around him like venomous snakes ready to attack. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your nerves on fire. But still, the pain of seeing Azriel fought its way through despite the dire circumstances. The image of him and Elain together was enough to almost fold you into Cedric’s embrace.

Perhaps death would be a mercy compared to the anguish building in your chest.

You focused on your brother instead. His violet eyes were hardened with rage, his entire body tense. “Let my sister go, you bastard, and I’ll consider making your death swift and painless.”

Cedric chuckled, his hand in your hair tightening causing you to whimper at the sharp pain. Azriel took a step forward at the noise but came to a halt, his eyes drifting to the area above your head.

You felt it then, that dark presence. The foreboding. You knew Koshcei was in the clearing now. Could feel his horrid magic in the air. This was a powerful death god sorcerer and despite your brother being the most powerful High Lord, he was no match with a God. None of them would be.

“Kill them,” Cedric demanded as he too realized Koschei was here.

But the death god did no such thing. Instead, you felt his darkness wrap around you, encompassing you into its hold. You let out a cry of fear, calling out for your brother.

“The girl belongs to me now,” Koschei said. “Leave and never return or I will do more than just keep her as a little pet.”

“Why do you want her?” Rhysand switched into his diplomatic role, realizing a fight would not be won here today. “Whatever you need her for, I’m certain I can do it all the same. Better, even.”

He was…He was offering himself over to the sorcerer in place of you?

“No, Rhys,” you cried out. “Just go!”

But you were ignored.

“Unfortunately,” Koschei drawled. “I do not have a taste for males otherwise I would take you up on your offer. But your sister will do just fine. There is nothing you can give me for her. I don’t think you even realized what a prize she was—what sort of power she holds.”

“Anything,” Rhys begged. “Please, I will give you anything. You want my armies, you can have them. You want my court, take it! Just give her back. Please.”

You couldn’t believe the words coming from his mouth. Rhys would never give up his power, would never give away his court and his people. But here he was, offering up all he had for you. You had caused this. You had made the mistake of running away to Cedric. This was all your fault.

“Get him out of here!” you shouted to Cassian and Azriel.

All you could think about was your brother’s lovesick bargain with Feyre, of his death leading to hers, of Nyx left with no parents. No…Rhys needed to get out of here before things got worse. You tried to convey your thoughts to the other two Illyrians with a single look. Cassian gave you a dip of the head in understanding, evidently having the same thoughts.

Azriel wouldn’t look at you, his rage filled eyes focused on the sorcerer that held you.

“Anything,” Rhys pleaded again, surging forward. But Cassian gripped him by the shoulders, holding him back. “I’ll give you anything.”

Your eyes darted between the three of them. At Cassian’s look of despair and uncertainty, Rhy’s pleading face and Azriel….Azriel who was shrouded in his shadows, who circled him in a frenzy—his eyes darkened, his lips twisted in a snarl. He took another step forward.

“Let her go,” he growled. You swore the birds in the clearing took off fluttering, as if they knew the sort of darkness that was coming. But Koschei let out a small noise of understanding before he chuckled—an awful noise.

“What an interesting turn of events,” Koschei purred, his grip on you tightening.

“Kill them,” Cedric hissed, slight panic in his eyes. If Koschei left him behind, you knew your brother would tear him to pieces.

Koschei chuckled again, as if realizing the same thing. In the end, he would get what he wanted without having to follow through on his half of the bargain, not if Cedric was dead.

“Say goodbye to your brother,” Koschei laughed in your ear. “And your lover and friend. You’ll never see them again.”

“I’m sorry, Rhys,” you cried. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Rhys fell to his knees, Cassian still holding him back with his lips pressed in a thin line. You felt Koschei’s shadows wrapping you up, spreading up your legs. Time was running out. Azriel stepped closer with another growl.

“I will kill you for this,” he promised, his eyes shifting from Cedric to the sorcerer. “Let her go!”

Your voice caught in your throat. All the words you wished to say to him with it. You loved him, still, even after knowing these past few months had all been a lie. Your heart was broken, stomped on, discarded by the only one you had ever given it to—but you loved him. You always would.

He finally looked at you, his hazel eyes so full of rage but you saw it then, the fear.

“Take me,” Azriel shouted. “Take me instead!”

Koschei laughed again. “Oh, but it is much more fun this way, shadowsinger.”

His shadows spread over your torso, up your neck, nearly choking you. Tears ran down your face; you were gasping for air. You took one more look at Azriel. One more look at the male you loved with all your heart. One last look because you knew you’d never see him again.

Azriel met your gaze—fear and anguish written all over his face. And just as the shadows began to darken your vision, something snapped into place. Something gold and bright. A thread that extended from your chest and speared right into the shadowsinger. A mating bond.

Azriel’s grip his chest, his eyes wide, as he stumbled back a step. You watched him realize it at the same time as you. Something burned on your hip and you realized you were feeling Azriel’s bargain tattoo dissipating. He screamed your name as Koschei laughed one more time, swallowing you in his shadows.

Azriel’s pained roar shook the trees of the forest around them and echoed all the way to the small cabin on the lake, where you were thrown to the hard flooring, still shackled and trembling.

Koschei stood over you, his face a painted picture of glee and lust. He tsked, circling around your weeping form. Your thoughts were filled with Azriel. With your mate. You could feel his horror, his rage, his anguish, all through the bond.

“Did you know,” Koschei purred, “that Cedric and his family are quite exceptional at illusions? The magic runs in their family.”

You were crying, panting—barely able to hear his words.

“No, I suppose you didn’t,” Koschei laughed. “Those images of you walking in on your mate with that little fawn were never real, my dear. You fell for Cedric’s tricks and now you’re here. You’ll never see your mate again.”

Those images of you walking in on your mate with that little fawn were never real, my dear.

You hunched over, falling limp against the floor as sobs racked your body. You had lost everything, everything, tricked by that stupid Prince. You couldn’t breath, couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything except the crushing weight of your despair.

And all you could hear were those final words.

Over and over and over again.

You’ll never see your mate again.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

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#acotar #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar x you #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel angst #shadowsinger x reader #azriel imagine #rhysand sister

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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months

Note

HELLO HELLO I HAVE ANOTHER ONE BUT ITS A 2 IN 1????? ALASTOR AND READER REACTING AND HELPING ONE ANOTHER DURING A PANIC ATTACK??????? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

I GOTTA DO IT I JUST GOTTA-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Panic attacks

Description: ☝️⬆️

SO-

It's really REALLY difficult to get Alastor to honestly open up to you about ANYTHING, even as his S/O

He will keep everything to himself, not out of any maliciousness but because he's not used to letting his guard down

Hides most of his fears behind his smile and quick wit

But you don't land The Radio Demon himself by not knowing him and his inner turmoil by not seeing the signs

You can see the cracks in his persona before even he can, knowing when he's about to break down

You try to talk to him about it beforehand, but he always brushes you off, telling you that he's fine

He tells himself that he's fine that everything is under control

It's always a little thing that sets him off, the last straw that broke the camel's back

Doesn't even realize that he's losing it until there's tiny tear pricks in the corners of his eyes and he's gripping his head so tight that he's hurt his scalp

Just repeats to himself that everything is fine, everything is okay, he's got everything under control

Breaks your heart when you see his painfully tight smile and watery eyes, shaking like a leaf

"Alastor..? Oh honey..."

Flinches when you place a gentle hand on his back, surprised that you snuck up on him

Tries to lie to you, bottle his emotions back up and may even try to seduce/fluster you depending on how frazzled he is

But you see through it, you always see through him

"Hey no...it's okay to be upset..."

Reluctantly leans on you, letting you hug his head to your chest until his hyperventilating stops and he's soothed by your heartbeat

Will put all of his strength into not letting himself cry, digging his claws into you as he grips you tight

His shaking finally stops once he relaxes into your hold, accepting your comfort

Don't make him explain himself, just help him ride it out until he can be himself again

When you two pull away he'll try to go on as if nothing had happened, springing up with renewed energy

Please don't comment on what happened, he's already embarrassed

"Alastor, come talk to me next time...okay..?"

"...I appreciate the offer, my dear."

That's the most you'll get out of him but he does start listening to you when you tell him to take care of himself

If anybody tries to pry into it then he'll just try to scare them off or redirect their attention

It's hard being so evil

You on the otherhand-

Whether you follow your own advice or not, everyone has a panic every once in a while, it's natural

It sneaks up on you and hits you like a tidal wave when it does happen, you hardly register your body crumpling to the floor

You feel so sick-even the air tastes bad

You can't breathe-where is the air???

Your body is white hot and ice cold all at the same time and your thoughts keep racing and-

You're in someone's lap suddenly, curled into their chest as sharp hand soothing the back of your neck

Your mind is so fuzzy from panic that you can't even recognize who it is, only instinctively leaning into their scent

"Y/N, whatever has you so upset, I promise we can face it together..."

Alastor-

He lets you throw your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder, only holding you tighter in response

Pretends that this is just a normal conversation the entire time, talking endlessly about his day and what he did

Somehow it works and you find yourself calming down, becoming invested in his story

Before you know it, you're laughing at something Alastor said Niffty did and you've forgotten that you were ever even having a panic attack

Alastor doesn't let you go even when you move to get off his lap, unwilling to part with you after seeing you so vulnerable

"Let's just take a little time to be with each other, shall we?"

If you want to talk about it then he'll listen while keeping his lips pressed to your temple, giving you reassuring squeezes

If you don't want to talk about it then that's fine, he's not going to force you or even bring it up again

Either way, the moment you two part ways then he's back to his witty, snarky self and he expects you to be yourself too

If anybody asks, he'll just lie and say you two were playing twister

Charlie two years later: They weren't playing twister...

It's a horrible lie but he doesn't care, he dares them to question him and his precious S/O

I HOPE THIS IS GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!! I wanted it to be soft 😭

#alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader

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animehideout · 4 months

Note

Hi um it’s my first time requesting something..😭so I mean it’s okay if you put your other requests before me

So I was thinking maybe ..can you make a reincarnated version of a princess reader and sukuna ? Like they were lovers in past but she died because villagers killed her and her family because her father was cruel but she was nice to everyone actually and that’s why he fell for her and after 400 years he saw her again but this time she’s one of the sorcerers

For Eternity

Ryomen Sukuna X fem! Sorcerer Reader (Reincarnated)

a/n: Hii anon, hear me out, I was so excited to write this one , you guys always come up with amazing ideas OMG!! I really hope you enjoy it tho 🥺❤️.

Words count : 2.9k (Not proofread)

Angst with happy ending <3

Halted mid-fight. Crimson eyes that were amused while fighting Megumi are now wide open, in shock. Aflamed with ancient fire. His mouth parted in disbelief, unable to form a sentence while looking at you, standing in front of him, in your full glory.

“That's impossible” he managed to say.

Too distracted by your surprise appearance, the love of his life, his princess, the woman he couldn't uproot from his mind despite being separated from her for 400 years, after some villagers murdered her along side her family.

Too engrossed in your face, the face he missed so much, he didn't notice Megumi's attack.

Ryomen Sukuna, the king of curses, that hundreds of sorcerers from different timelines tried to kill him but failed, ended up receiving a powerful punch on his face by Megumi.. because of you, because your presence made him weak and easily targeted.

That punch knocked some sense in him, waking him up from his trance. Now easily dodging Megumi's hits, shoving him aside, no longer interested in fighting some jujutsu sorcerer.

“Y/n” he said as he took a closer step to you, his voice was so soft and sweet, making Megumi look in confusion. “My princess” he added, gently extending his hand to you,

but was met with your cold eyes, clenching your fists into a fighting position, ready to use your jujutsu technique and kill him. Sukuna chuckled in confusion, why on earth would you fight the man you loved against your family and people's will?

“What are you doing? Y/n?” he asked not realizing that being reincarnated means forgetting your past life.

“What am I doing? I'm going to exorcise you Ryomen Sukuna and free the world from your evil” you exclaimed in a challenging voice, yet perplexed by his question and how he knew your name even though it was your first time meeting.

“Y/N RUN” yelled Megumi from the other side as Sukuna got way too close to you, but you stood your ground.

“No you won't kill me! it's me!! the man you swore to love forever–” he explained.

“HUH?!” you and Megumi said in union.

“Are you insane? clearly living for 1000 years damaged your brain” you said in a harsh tone,

furious that Sukuna was toying with you, even though he was telling the truth. Without hesitation, you started attacking him. To your and Megumi's surprise, he didn't fight you back, or even bother to block your hits, you found it as an opportunity to harm him and maybe success in exorcising him.

His soul ached with each blow you landed on him, with the words you said to him.

“Y/n stop” he said,

but you're a jujutsu sorcerer, you can't stop, you fight to protect the weak you fight to kill curses, that's what you do. He suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you to his chest,

“Fucking stop it Y/n and fucking remember who you truly are” he yelled.

You fought against his tight grasp even though he was holding you so delicately, yet so securely afraid to let go, afraid he might loose you again.

“I'm a jujutsu sorcerer, that's what I truly am–”

“NO YOU'RE NO SORCERER, YOU'RE THE ONE WHO I REMAINED LOYAL TO EVEN AFTER YOUR DEATH, FOR LONG 400 YEARS, YOU CAN'T BE A SORCERER WHEN YOU'RE ALREADY MINE”

You couldn't say anything but stare, eyebrows frowned with the intake of words that Sukuna said to you. When he first approached you, you thought he'd easily snap you in half, or torture you to death. But he did the unexpected, the thing that nor you or Megumi anticipated. He just held you close, and started babbling nonesense.

As long as you were safe, Megumi didn't do anything, he stood there and watched things unfold, too surprised to even react.

“I.AM.NOT.YOURS” you said through gritted teeth, freeing yourself from his embrace, eyes narrowing

“Then who the hell are you?” he asked in disappointment, his eyes fixated on your figure, trying to take into every detail of yours.

Even after years, your face and body that he worshipped and still do, is still engraved im his mind to this day.

“I already said it, I'm a jujutsu sorcerer, and I exorcise things like you” you spitted angrily.

“Things?” he repeated,

his soul shattering with the eco of your voice that rang in his ears. You weren't the princess whose kindness and gentleness captivated his cold heart and ascended on the throne of his ego. Sukuna never believed in love, just power and total vigor. But a princess, with a modest heart and a pure soul swept him off his feet, 400 years ago, making him weak and needy for love, something he never experienced, something he never dreamt of untill he met you. But now, you stood in front of him, cold and distant, full of hatred and enmity towards him. Maybe..maybe if your father wasn't cruel, maybe if those fool villagers didn't kill you, maybe if Sukuna knew beforehand and manged to save you and keep you alive, you'd still be his princess, by his side and not the jujutsu sorcerer you are.

“Then you leave me with no choice Y/n” he muttered,

the idea of killing you, killed him more.

“Y/N” yelled Megumi panicking.

You wanted to run away for your life, but you couldn't. Too scared to even move? Too attached to the idea that jujutsu sorcerers never run away? Or an invisible power held you in place?

Sukuna's red eyes started glowing, evil and scary expression drawn on his face once again, making him the ruthless king of curses that he is. His eyes couldn't leave yours, taking into your sight, one last time before be kills you.

Air hitched in your lungs from fear, you knew there's no point in fighting him back now, as your jujutsu that you've spent your whole life mastering is now useless. You closed your eyes, waiting for him to just do it and end it all, your life wasn't special....but your past life was..Oh if you knew that, you wouldn't give in to death so easily.

You waited and waited but nothing happened....

Jolting, a startled gasp left your mouth when Megumi shook you awake.

“M-megumi?...Am I dead?”

“What? No!”

“D-did you kill Sukuna?”

“No”

“Then we're both dead?”

“NO, he left”

“left?”

Is it a miracle? Did Sukuna pity you and spared your life? All these questions burned in your throat, craving answers.

“Let's go” said Megumi dragging you back to Jujutsu High.

A long sleepless night, how could you sleep after the king of curses confessed his undying love to you? What is so special about you that stopped him from splitting you in half? Looking at the dark ceiling, mind wide awake for hours now.

“What game was Sukuna playing?” you said to yourself.

You refused to believe his words, but you couldn't brush the curiosity that stirred inside you. Putting your jacket on, you headed outside for some fresh air, the room was too suffocating for you. You stood outside looking at the starry night above you, eyes fixated on one particular star, your favorite that you used to watch.

“I have to meet him again” you muttered to yourself.

You knew he could easily kill you, were you dumb or brave to chase the truth from Sukuna? You needed to know, even though you put the possibility of him making all of this up to get to Gojo Satoru and the other strong sorcerers.

Busy in your thoughts, a hand covered your mouth, making you freeze in place. You could feel his strong presence, no one other than him Sukuna Ryomen. Heart hammering against your ribcage, as if he was reading your mind, you wanted to meet him again and he showed up in the middle of the night, emerging from darkness...just for you.

“Come with me”

And who were you to fight against his will, so you followed along, his hand still on your mouth and his other arm wrapped protectively around you..he was trying to protect you while you thought he's the danger. He was loving you while you thought he's the enemy. Taking you to an abandoned place, up on a hill– Everything looked so small from up there, the city lights glistening.

“You always liked to go up on a hill and watch the sunrise with me, you said they are a proof that everyday is a new beginning and a new chance” he started, peacefully looking down at the lights.

Your eyes widened, how did he know you enjoyed watching the sunrise? was he stalking you?

“If you kidnapped me to kill me then do it already!” you said coldly but deep inside shivering form his presence.

“Kill you? 400 years mourning your death and you expect me to kill you?” he said in a sad tone, his palm cupping your cheek, as his thumb caressed the smooth skin. He closed his eyes enjoying the sensation, “I love you Y/n” he added.

You could have stepped back, but something was holding you still, an unexplained force

“But I'm alive, what death are you talking about? Are you trying to drive me insane? What game are you playing Sukuna?” you drowned him in questions, that only him hold the answers for.

You almost broke down, tears threatening to fall. He helped you sit down and took a seat next to you

“I know you're confused, I can't balme you, I'm confused too, but let me explain to you..”

you nodded weakly, all what you wanted in the first place was an explanation.

“We were lovers, many years ago, you were mine... A gentle princess that I couldn't help but fall for..you, you were a princess Y/n– your family ruled back then, your father, a cruel man, an abuser who made your life a living hell, you used to escape from him and come to me, you found safety and warmth in my arms. Despite my sins, despite my cruelty, I was always gentle with you, I've never hurt you and never will, I've lived to protect you...but I failed..” he paused clenching his jaw and tightening his fists, “They took you away from me, you were a victim of their revenge, they wanted your father to suffer by taking what he had, thinking that Killing his family would make him pay for his wrong deeds towards the villagers he oppressed.....you were the price Y/n..I couldn't get a chance to revive you, they burned you alive, leaving me with nothing but emptiness..I killed them all even your father..”

You gulped, how could you believe this when you clearly have a complete different life now. It was hard to swallow his words.

“Maybe I just look like her?..I mean your past lover, maybe it's just a coincidence we have the same name and face, may–”

“NO, it's not just your face, it's your soul, I can feel it”

“So you're saying I'm a reincarnation?” you questioned and he nodded. You stood up quickly, leaving him,

“NO Y/N WAIT.. your favorite flower is Ajisai, you enjoy looking at them” he spoke trying to prove to you that he knows more about you

“Its just a guess Sukuna, anyone can like Ajisai, not only me” you fought the urge to believe him and started walking away,

“You have a crystal necklace, I gave it to you when we first met” he said again,

and you stopped in your track, no one ever saw your necklace it was always hidden beneath your clothes..

“A star, appears in the west, you've named it Heiwa (japanese word for Peace), your favorite star, manifesting peace whenever you looked at it. Collecting leaves in Autumn, you liked the degradation of the colors. Watching the rain pour for hours, dancing while getting soaked with it, saying it purifies us, Admiring the butterflies during spring, wishing that one day you become free like them...” he added.

Electricity ran through you, hands shaking, breathing heavily as your heart raced inside. How could he know every detail about you? your habits? how could he be so accurate? It's not just a coincidence so how? You turned slowly, facing him again,

“W-who are you?”

“Ryomen Sukuna, your lover”

“I can't remember anything..” you choked on tears.

“You will, if you don't fight it back, embrace it and memories will flow back” he reassured..

The first light of dawn appeared on the horizon, a gentle gradation of purples and pinks painted the sky, gradually giving way to warm oranges and yellow. You and Sukuna watched, eyes glued ti the sky, putting you at ease, as the sun rays pierced through the darkness, casting a golden glow..maybe this sunrise is a new beginning for both of you.

“I- I have to go..”

“Wait Y/n.. promise me that you'll try to remember ” he pleaded,

you nodded, sadness taking over you, you left to Jujutsu High with a heavy heart. Was your whole life a lie?

“Where have you been?” asked Gojo, catching you as you snuck into the school.

“I- Um, I” you stuttered.

“Megumi told me about your encounter with Sukuna..hm so curious, how the king of curses withdraws from a battle field?”

you remained silent as you teacher Gojo tried to read your face,

“I don't know” you said.

“I think he's got something for you Y/n”

“It doesn't matter, right?”

“Nah it does, we can use it against him maybe..”

“How?”

“It seems like Sukuna has a weakness..you!”

“And?”

“We grasp the opportunity, you trick him and lead him to our trap, if you're in of course!” he suggested.

Will you betray him and forget about the promise you just made, to try and remember.

“I don't know Sensei, I'll think about it” you answered, you weren't in a stable state of mind of take such decision.

“Take all the time you need y/n-chan” he said with a wide smile.

Straight to your room, no missions for today, you needed solitude, you needed to know who you truly were. Locked inside no matter how much your friends tried to drag you out. Thinking and thinking.. holding the necklace that Sukuna assumed he's the one who gifted it to you. You've never remember how you got in the first place, you've been wearing it for your whole life now, its just an accessory.

Day after day, growing impatient and anxious, you thought you were going crazy, unable to focus on your present while trying to remember your past. Sleepless nights, exhaustion and living nightmares.

Enough is a enough. Sneaking out of Jujutsu High, going up that hill again. You were hoping to find Sukuna there, you wanted to tell him him to just forget about you and to kill you next time in battle. You couldn't remember, but you knew there was something hidden, far away from your reach and it tortured you. With heavy steps you hiked up...but he wasn't there...Sighing, maybe it was all a lie. Your eyes looked up, there was Heiwa, the star you named.

“please show me the truth...please I need to remember ” you pleaded to the universe, desperately whispering.

You brought you necklace that was hidden under your sweater, kissing it. The soft morning lights started crawling, your favorite star's glow slowly fading..

“Who am Im?” you asked again.

Suddenly the crystal on your necklace started ti glow once it was touched by the sun's rays. Your eyes widened, the necklace was always tucked under your clothes, never seen the day light. Each luminous pulse from the crystal seemed to sync with your heartbeat. Eyes fixated on it, you held it up, exactly in the middle aligned with the sun that rose from the east and the star thay faded in the west. The crystal radiated with memories from your past life

“I accept it, I accept my truth” you whispered.

Images, voices, scents, faces and emotions started to flow into your mind like a running river. Overwhelmed by the sudden remembrance you started crying

“I-its real” you cried out.

The crystal that once was worn as a simple accessory, transformed into a vessel of remembrance, channeling gour past life into your present, it channelled your love for Sukuna as well. Your heart suddenly full of him, as if you loved him for years, as if you've never been apart.

“Sukuna– I have to find him” you said to yourself,

ready to run as fast as you could to reach your lover and hug him again, to feel his warmth. As you turned at a random speed, you bumped into his chest, he was there, for you. His arms circled around your body, stopping you form stumbling backwards.

“S-sukuna?” you said softly,

throwing yourself into his embrace, burying your head in the crook of his neck, while sobbing uncontrollably. His strong arms pulled you close, leaving no space between your bodies.

“I knew you'd remember” he said smiling nuzzling into your hair.

You pulled away a little to look at his face, his thumb wiped your tears, his touch making your heart pound fast.

“I love you” you confessed.

“I love you too, I swear I'll protect you , I won't let anyone take you away from me this time”.

He pressed his lips against yours, pouring all of his love that was kept unspoken of after your death for 400 years into the kiss. You kissed him back, passionately. He pushed your head from the back further to his face, deepening the kiss. Oh how much he missed your taste, how much he missed your soft lips and how perfectly they fit with his. Leaving you completely breathless, hungry for more– His lips danced in sync with yours, completely devouring each other. He finally rested his forehead on yours and said,

“It doesn't matter, past or present, because in each life, you'll be only mine”.

632 notes · View notes

loveindefinitely · 4 months

Text

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

01 — TOO YOUNG TO KNOW IT GETS BETTER

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

You almost worshipped him.

It wasn’t because of his status – although, that certainly played a role in it all – and it wasn’t because of his bank statements.

No. Phillip Graves was one of the best men you’d ever known.

Or so you had thought.

Turns out, no matter how well he looked after his men – his ‘girl’ – and no matter how charismatic he was, that wouldn’t, couldn't change his roots. And, at those very roots, was decay. Evil in its most purest of forms; a tantalisingly devastating mix of every sin.

The most prevalent one?

Greed.

He was a greedy, greedy man, and he would stop at nothing to have it all. Even if he knew the fall out; even if he knew that he could never go back to the man he once was.

Phillip Graves didn’t care. Not in the slightest.

And it was you that would pay the ultimate price.

Rain beats down your back in heavy sheets as you stand, the harsh night littered with flashlights and car sirens.

It’s cool, just this side of too cold, and it has the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the temperature.

The temperature, and…

“Yup-yup,” the two men to your right call into their comms. You remain silent, but it goes unnoticed. Your eyes are trained to the paved street, rippling with the rainwater, littered with streaks of red.

Blood stains this town, and you haven't done anything to stop it.

“Let’s go.”

Raising your head, you meet the eyes of the operative who, ranks-wise, is below you. Really, you should be reprimanding him for his quip, but you understand the annoyance. You’re being quiet – something quite unusual for your normally direct and authoritative nature.

Tightening your grip around the shiny, water-slicked gun in your hand, you give him a sharp nod in response.

Seemingly satisfied, he turns, and you follow him along the sidewalk of the narrow, stone streets. Shops line either side of the area, their front-windows smashed and the products inside thrown about.

It’s like your heart has launched itself into your throat, the constant thrum of it setting your nerves alight.

“Three-zero, I want you and your two to find those Brits. We’ve got the cops. Copy?”

That once reassuring, adoring voice is now cold, void of any emotion he used to have. It makes tears burn at the back of your vision – if you were a weaker woman, they’d have fallen. Instead, you press down the button for your comms.

“Copy, Sir. Three-zero out.”

The fact that you manage to get those words out is a feat in and of its own.

It feels as though you’re lost at sea, with nothing to hold onto. Buoyant, but barely – every wave threatening to pull you under for good. To smother your silent cries for help, for guidance, for something to keep you grounded.

But there is no sea, and there is no support.

“You two go up ahead, I’ll search the house here,” you say, voice thick with demand. You didn’t have to decide anything right now. You just had to be the leader you were, and do what you’ve always done.

“Copy,” your two subordinates say, moving up further.

With their absence, you find that you can breathe – as if a weight has been lifted off of your chest, and you can finally fill your lungs.

You’re alive. You’re alive. You’re alive.

The mantra helps, surprisingly, and you hold onto those two words like they’re your only lifeline.

Through the thick of night and rain, you can see the door to the house on your left. It’s been left open, which means that either it’s already been searched – which you doubt – or… Someone else has been in there.

Gun secured in your grip, you move to the door with soft footing, quiet enough to not be heard over the shouts of other shadows just a few ways away. The constant pattering of the overhead storm clouds slow, just the slightest, allowing for a bit more sight.

Using your shoulder to further open the door with a creak, you take note of your surroundings immediately.

There’s a flickering light to the room on your far right, a living area, most likely. To your left is a short hallway, but none of the doors alert you of any occupancy. The place has been torn apart, pictures scattered along the wooden floor, shards of glass decorating the space along with it.

It sends a pang of guilt through your chest.

These were families being torn apart by your commander, your company. And for what? What was Graves’ angle here?

You’d been left on base to keep things running smoothly while Graves and unit one worked with the 141 and Las Vaqueros. You knew very little about any of this, and when you’d been called out to Las Almas, to aid with this?

This wasn’t what you fought for. This wasn’t what you would ever support, not in a million years.

But going against direct orders was going against your commander, and your livelihood. Shadow Company was all you’d known since your childhood. Having been hired when Graves was merely a young-upstart with big dreams, you were quickly swept up in the community of it all. They were your family, and Graves was the only semblance of a ‘loved one’ you had.

And now?

Now, he was sending you on a bounty hunt, for two men who, from your limited knowledge, didn’t deserve death. They were the good guys, and although most of your existing bias towards the two was due to rumours back on base, your intuition said that they were good men. And your intuition had never steered you wrong, not once.

Your mind feels like a never ending turbine as you move through the house, eyeing the barren walls and smashed vases.

Exhaling a low, deep breath, you tighten your hold on your weapon. It’s more of a comfort, at this point. Which is odd, considering that its sole purpose is to kill and destroy.

Through the dim light, you manage to find a set of stairs. They’re dingy, and the patterned carpet is mildew-riddled as you make your way to the next floor with slow, careful steps.

You’ve decided to keep your flashlight off, just in case it brings any extra attention to you.

As soon as you make it to the last step, a sense of… wrongness settles in your system. Something’s off, and it’s almost as if there’s an alarm ringing in your ears at the realisation.

Someone’s here.

Grounding yourself, both mentally and physically, you prepare to push through the hallway.

Setting aside your mental dilemma, you remind yourself that the physical battle is far more vital to your life right now. If you lose that, you lose your life.

If you lose your morals?

You just suppose you lose yourself.

The sound of a radio switching on has your senses alerted like a switchboard completely alight.

Stepping into the hallway, your chest constricting, you snap your gaze to both of your sides. With the little-to-no light, you can barely make out your limbs, let alone your surroundings. Your spatial awareness was solid, but with conditions like this? Near impossible.

The entire corridor is shrouded in shadow, the incessant rain outside and the screams of the cartel’s policemen ringing in your ears.

It reeks of death and despair, and your skin is coated in a thin sheen of chilled sweat.

The third door to your left is creaked open, just the slightest sliver, but it catches your attention like a moth to a flame. Keeping your frame encased in the darkest of the shadows, you move with patient, skillful steps towards the door.

A moment passes, tense and nerve-wracking in a way no other mission has ever been.

A breath in.

A breath out.

You push open the door, gun raised, ready for anything –

Nothing.

Quickly checking over the room to your right, you see nothing but bashed up mattresses and blood-stained carpet.

Just as you’re about to turn to check behind the door, two things happen at once.

One, you get slammed to the ground, your head knocking against the hard flooring and sending a burst of pain through your temple, your gun skidding across the floor to your left.

Two –

“Fuckin’ Christ!”

A man – scottish, that much is prevalent – whisper-shouts. You squint, the pain of the sudden fall throwing you off.

Not a second later, however, you manage to roll, shoving him off of you with a grunt. Your eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness, but you manage to make out the impossibly muscled frame of the man who’d just fallen on top of you.

He’s tall, not as giant as some of the men you served alongside with, but tall nonetheless. That’s all of the visual information you manage to gain before he sends an elbow to your gut, evoking a hiss through your gritted teeth.

You wriggle away, kicking out with your right foot and hitting what you think is his chin, considering his pained grunt.

“You bloody bastard,” he snaps, hand wrapping around your ankle and pulling you.

Your responding squeak is likely the most undignified sound you have ever made in your life, but it gives the man pause. Enough of one so as to allow you to wrench your leg back and careen it back into his face.

“Shut the fuck up!” You hiss back, all too aware of the likelihood that your men will show up and shoot first, ask later.

“Are you feckin’ stupid, lass?” He retorts, although his tone is dutifully lower as he scrambles to grab your legs once more, his fist finding your belt and pulling you towards him.

Your attempts to dig your heels into the ground to prevent yourself from being pinned by him are fruitless, his strength undoubtedly superior to yours. That was a fact all too common when it came to your hand-to-hand fights, but luckily, it was just one factor of many.

“Are you?” Your shock is palpable as he gets his other hand around the other side of your belt, using the grip to pull himself over you.

His torso is pressed against your own as he goes to pin your hands, but with one quick manoeuvre, you wrap your legs around his waist and turn.

Utilising your lower body strength, you’re able to reverse the position, your hips pinning his to the ground. In one sweep of your hands, you collect both of his wrists and force them into the carpet. The room fills with your harsh, panted breaths, the outside commotion only a distant soundtrack.

“Yer supposed to kill me now, Shadow,” he says, a torment, a threat.

You swallow, once, an unsure thing.

He’s right, of course. He should be dead by now, bleeding out onto the floor. You should be comming to your fucking Commander, and telling him that one of the men he’s after has just been reported KIA. That’s what should be happening.

So how come it’s not?

“I know,” you say, the words falling through your lips despite the internal conflict in your head. “You should be dead.”

He mirrors your confusion with raised brows, and it’s then that you can feel the blood trickling onto your hand. He’s bleeding down his arm, you realise with a start. He’s wounded.

Flitting your gaze to the floor up ahead, you catch sight of your gun, only a few steps away. One shot is all you’d need. One second, and that mouth of his would never open again.

The sole window in the room flashes with a burst of lightning, and that short second of light lets you catch sight of his features. Blood coats his jaw – from your kicks, maybe – and he’s got dirt caked onto his cheek. His stubble has clearly missed a few shaves, and his mohawk isn’t gelled.

“Still waiting, Shadow,” he says. And although he’s quiet, the words feel like a yell in the tense room. Like a shout directly into your soul, screaming for you to sort your shit out.

You go to respond – with what, you’re not sure – when the man underneath you manages to rip his hands from your grip and swing them around the back of your neck. He pulls you forward, your neck fitting into the crook of his elbow as he squeezes.

When you try to inhale, you end up choking on a cough. He’s strangling you, you realise, with his fucking biceps.

There’s mere moments for you to make a decision before you pass out, or he breaks your neck. Moments for you to decide what the fuck you can do.

Balling your right hand into a tight fist, you punch into his nose, a sickening crack making your teeth slide together. He swears, rapid-fire, a few Gaelic-sounding words slipping out along with them. It’s enough of a distraction to let you wrench out of his hold with a cough, wincing when you claw at his arm and draw blood. Thank fuck for fingerless gloves.

Crawling forward as he brings a hand up to his now-bleeding nose, you’re just a breath away from reaching your gun when his hand grabs into your hair and pulls, eliciting a cry from you.

It’s a dirty move, but this is a dirty fight.

“Fucking – let go!” You grit out, the pain of the tightening on your scalp unique and not at all tolerable.

He just pulls tighter in response, and as you try and reach the gun, your fingers fall just millimetres short. It’s maddening, your emotions out of whack and your mental compass skewed beyond belief.

He should be fucking dead. He should be fucking dead.

So why wasn’t he?

You realise that he’s using his grip on you for leverage, to move himself closer to the weapon. Reaching towards his bare arm, you manage to catch your hand around it, nails digging into his wet skin.

He lets out a pained groan, and it becomes quickly apparent to you that he’s been shot in that arm. Moving your fingers, your index finger pushes into the open wound.

His grip on your hair goes lax, and he stops moving towards the gun long enough to allow you to move on top of him once more, pinning him underneath your weight. You’re both evidently weaker than the last time you were in this position, and you’re about to do something, something, something –

“Johnny? How copy?” An urgent, oddly panicked voice echoes around the room. It’s crackled, in only the way a radio’s can, and the two of you stun yourselves into freezing. His communications have been dislocated, and now they’re loud and clear for both of you to hear. “Johnny, what the fuck is happening?”

“Shit,” Johnny curses, head falling back against the ground in exasperation.

You’re not sure when you’d laxed your grip from his wound, your hand loose around his arm. You’re not sure when you’d subconsciously started avoiding fatal moves.

At this point, you’re not sure about anything at all.

Although it’s hard to see, you’re sure that the two of you make eye contact.

Neither of you make a move.

“Soap!”

Slowly, Johnny moves his hand to the communicator in his vest, pressing the button to allow for his voice to carry over to the man on the other end.

“A little occupied, Sir,” he murmurs, tightly.

If you move your hand to his throat, or use this as a distraction, you could have him dead before the other man could even register his words.

“I can’t get a visual on you,” the other man quips back, voice laced with thinly-veiled worry. “Johnny, if you die, I’m fuckin’ killing your ass.”

You bite back a slightly crazed chuckle at that statement, and by the shift in Johnny’s chest, he does too.

Johnny doesn’t turn off his communicator. The other man – Ghost, if you’re correct – will be able to hear everything you say.

Ghost and Soap.

Jesus H. Christ. Soap – Johnny MacTavish – the 141 operator you heard whispers about throughout your unit – he was underneath you. He was on the run from your commander. He was the man you were assigned to fucking kill.

He’s alive.

You’re alive.

“Shadow Three-Zero, what’s your status?”

Oh, fuck. Fucking hell.

Both you and Johnny’s eyes dart to your own communicator – the earpiece scattered along the floor just as his had been.

Graves’ voice. It sends a shiver down your spine for all the wrong reasons, and the lump in your throat doubles in size. If it’s at all possible, the rain outside grows louder, and more gunshots echo in your ears.

“Shadow Three-Zero. Have you got ‘em? Don’t go two-timing me now, babe.”

How he’s – how he’s being so light, so carefree while storming these streets and murdering fathers, brothers, sons in cold blood – it cements a thought in your head. Out of the storm of them, the endless noise of them all, one becomes concrete. Factual. A single truth in your world of lies.

You press down your communicator button.

“Haven’t found them yet, sir. Wouldn’t dream of going against you.”

“Atta girl,” he responds, a light chuckle carrying over the radio. “After this is all done, we can have a celebration of our own, hey?”

Your mouth is barren of moisture, your tongue a heavy weight that feels all too useless as you reply once more. It doesn’t go unnoticed how neither Soap, or Ghost over the comms, say a word.

“It’ll be my pleasure, sir.”

You rip off your communicator, throwing it across the room. It sets the course of the rest of your life, you’re sure. You still do it.

All the while, you hold Soap’s gaze.

He hasn’t killed you. He could’ve, you realise, he really could’ve. He had the opportunity. Still does.

But.

You’re alive.

And so is he.

“What’re you doin’, Shadow?” Johnny finally asks, equally suspicious and curious. His tone is tight, almost as much as his body is against your own.

You’d almost forgotten that he’s underneath you. Weaponless, and bleeding out. Wounded.

On the run.

Your eyes are wide, manic, maybe, as you say with shaky breaths;

“This isn’t right. I – I don’t fight for this. You guys, you,” squeezing your eyes shut, if only for a brief moment, you continue, slower, “This isn’t the Graves I know. I’m not going to be on the wrong side of history. I’d rather betray him than stand by his side with blood on my hands.”

Soap must sense your conviction, your wobbly words holding such truth and capability in them, because he nods, sharply.

“Johnny,” the radio chimes in again, the man’s tone a warning. “Don’t.”

Soap works his mouth, a crease forming between his blood-stained brows. If you were at all a poet, you’d akin his blue eyes to a storm-brewed sea. But you’re a soldier, so they’re merely obvious in the window’s scarce light, a stark contrast to the reds and darkness all around you both.

You’re not sure what’s wrong with you. You’d clearly hit your head too hard when Soap had crashed into you, or you’d been drugged earlier.

“I have intel,” you blurt out, like a crazed lunatic. That description is, unfortunately, a little too fitting to your current state. “I’m – I’m a fucking good fighter. You help me, I help you.”

“We don’t need your help,” Soap quickly, almost automatically, retorts. But his words seem weak, his certainty nowhere on your own.

“You’re shot and on the run with no weapons,” you reply, slowly. Words. You were good at words, at debates. You could survive this. Maybe. “I know Graves. I know my men. And I know that I’d rather be a traitor than a war criminal.”

That’s maybe the most true thing you’d thought, or said, since you’d first been asked to head to Las Almas with an order to kill.

There’s silence.

A few beats pass before you open your mouth once more, tone just this side of pleading, “I’ll help you guys survive this. If you help me take down Graves, and support me – if you give me the assets I need. That’s all I’m asking.”

“We don’t trust you,” Soap says, and you nod.

“I don’t exactly have faith in you either. But it’s this or we all end up dead.”

Ghost inputs something, this time. “If you two make it to the church, we’ll consider it.”

That’s the most you can ask for. The best possible outcome from you being the biggest fucking idiot to walk this earth. You were lucky that Soap was… merciful. Which was, all things considered, the weirdest component of this entire, messed up equation.

It seems like agreement passes through you all, like a sort of handshake. An invisible one, but a symbol of truce nonetheless.

“Get yer ass offa me,” Soap groans, breaking the tension of the room.

Scrambling off of him, but keeping your wits about you, you realise that you’d virtually been laying on the man your entire conversation. Your ears burn in embarrassment.

“...Right. I’m taking my gun,” you murmur.

Which is, obviously, the worst thing to say.

“Are you feckin’ serious? Dinnae wanna work with an idiot, Jesus,” Soap immediately hisses out, getting up with a hand on his knee, bringing his other to press against his bullet wound with a wince. You think that Ghost says something similar, but it’s drowned out by Soap.

“I’m best with close-range, and I’m not the one wounded,” you immediately bite back, hand wrapping around said weapon and holding it to your chest, checking over the room for any more supplies. Luckily, unlike the man in front of you, you still have all of your supplies and gear. His top is thin, you think, and soaked through with both rain and blood. Your standard Shadow Company uniform still fits you like a second skin, and although wet, doesn’t soak into your bottom layers. Your tactical knife, still strapped to your thigh, is secure and perfectly in place.

How you’d not used it in that fight was a testament to your mindscape more than anything.

“How do I know ye won’t just shoot me when my back’s turned?” Soap shoots back, his tone a weapon in its own right.

You raise a brow, and you hope that he can see it. “I would’ve done that already if that was my plan. And you’re calling me an idiot.”

“You’re a right ass,” he retorts, not unlike a petulant child.

“And you’re a right dickhead.” And, alright, you realise that you’re not much better, but it’s deserved.

“And you both need to hurry the fuck up.”

You and Soap both have the decency to wince at the man’s words, and you both shut up as you finish checking over yourselves. You, focusing on checking your straps and belt, and Soap, hissing about his wound.

…If this camaraderie lasted the night, you’d think about apologising for that move.

Checking over your gun, you move to slowly open the door as Soap fixes up his radio, putting his earpiece back in its place. You are, admittedly, a bit annoyed that you won’t be able to hear Ghost’s callouts, but again, you had a gun.

“Let’s go,” you softly say, tilting your head towards the door. Soap nods, clearly ready to meet back up with his Lieutenant and get out of here.

As you slowly open the door, guns raised and eyes alert, you let the reality of your situation settle over you like the world’s coldest blanket. You’re going against everything you’ve ever known, all because of your morals that had always been slightly off-centre. Came with the job, you supposed.

But this was uncharted territory. Directly betraying your unit, your men, your Commander, and helping the men you’re assigned to kill? Asking them for their help in return?

“Clear,” you softly report to Soap, who acknowledges your order with a low noise. Following you with silent steps down the stairs, you keep your gun raised as you check over the bottom floor, before signalling for him to exit through the front door with you.

As the two of you enter the laneway once more, your breath catches in your throat as you assess the damage.

You spot several bodies littering the streets as rain hits you once more, the presence of it oddly comforting throughout it all. A truck up ahead has its lights on, the red of the brakes shining against the wet pavement like the pools of blood not three metres away from it.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Soap murmurs from behind you, and you can’t help but agree with his sentiment.

This was pure bloodshed, at the hands of the one man you thought you could trust.

Betrayal tastes oddly sour in your mouth. Betrayal like this, on all sides, it’s like being suffocated by two cloths at once. Two very bloody, very assaulting cloths, at that.

Soap seems to be communicating with Ghost as the two of you make your way down the street, considering the back-and-forth whispers from Soap. He seems almost. Flirty. Which is a stark realisation, and truly, the least of your worries right now.

“If you can find bandages, or something close to it, I’ll get that arm of yours fixed up.”

You keep your tone low, careful of your surroundings as you see Soap nod, albeit almost in shock, in your periphery. Keeping your gaze forward, you move along the sidewalk.

The beauty of these shops, and this community, has been tarnished by the massacre of your Shadows. Your heart aches, seeing it all – the smashed windows, the blood, the distant sound of screaming and crying.

You and Soap make it about a block in silence, before flashlights ahead have you grabbing onto Soap’s shirt and pulling him into the open door of the shop to your left, heart beating rapidly in your chest.

“Shadow Three-Zero’s gone silent,” you hear a familiar voice say. Your subordinate – one of the two you’d sent to check the houses up ahead. “Reckon she’s dead?”

Soap, for his part, is silent where he’s been pushed up against the wall, your head meeting his collarbone.

“Nah. She mighta slept her way to the top, but she’s good. Probably gone dark so she can suck Graves off on the side or something.”

Your breath comes out in a sharp exhale, your fists tightening unknowingly onto the fabric of Soap’s shirt. He doesn’t even breathe in response.

The other chuckles. “Fuckin’ slut. Can’t believe she gets to order us around when we all know why she’s here.”

And, oh, does that make your stomach turn. You were many things, but you were not one to abuse a position like that. They knew nothing of your struggles, or your relationships, or –

“Fuckin’ cocksuckers,” Soap grumbles, and that shocks you. For a man in the military to recognise misogyny like that was, really, unheard of.

You ignore that thought.

“Shut up.”

He does.

The two Shadows continue walking down the street, and you quickly peer out of the front window to watch them head down another sidealley, taking their thoughts with them.

“Come on,” is all you say, and Johnny follows tightly behind you as you continue down the way you were heading.

You find an alleyway to your left, and you decide to follow it. You can see a flashlight scanning over the street further down. Shadows were everywhere, but they were pushing forward like a tsunami over a coastal town, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake.

Soap follows you without question, which is odd, but you’re not about to complain.

“Ghost says that there’s underground tunnels – we can get to the church through ‘em,” Soap murmurs as he taps your shoulder. You nod, not looking back as you search for any telling of where the best route would be.

After a few minutes, the two of you find yourselves nearing the tunnels Ghost had spoken about.

It’s when you’re about to head into the deep end – quite literally, considering the flooding – that an all too familiar and bone-chilling voice yells out from the right of you both, down another street.

“She’s gone dark – you will find her alive, and if she’s dead, you will be too!” Graves roars, and your heart skips a beat. “She could be hurt, or captured – she is your top priority now, Shadows!”

There’s a chorus of agreement, and if you look down, you’re almost certain that you’ll find your stomach laying at your feet.

A greedy, greedy man. That was what Phillip Graves was – now, more than ever.

If you were a weaker woman, a civilian, maybe, instead of a seasoned soldier, you’d have vomited by now.

Instead, you shoot Soap a look.

“Ghost still at the church?” Is all you ask.

Soap nods. “Yeah. Lt’s talkin’ my ear off,” he says with an eye roll, but his lips quirk into a half-tilted grin more resemblant of a satisfied pup.

“Didn’t think the 141 was so close,” you reply, and you could slap yourself for how nosy you sound. You’re not, not in the slightest – all you cared about was surviving both Graves and them.

Soap’s eyes hold an indecipherable gleam to them when he responds, a touch domestically, “You have no idea.”

You itch to delve deeper, to unpack that statement that seems to hold so many layers, but you keep your mouth respectfully shut.

And you prepare to meet Ghost at the end of the tunnel.

a/n. cutely drops this and hides!! jk but umm idk man this fic idea has been nibbling at my brain and GAWDDD smth about it just. got the juices flowing. this is my personality now thanks gn. if you guys enjoyed please comment or reblog or follow!! ty so very muchly ily all <3

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