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#he's wearing a pin because of al

tojirights · 4 months

Note

Ong your Alastor showing you off to Vox one was so😍😍🤤🤤

Can you make do an enemies to lovers? Like how maybe Alastor’s been possessive of you and he hates how much he likes you, and one day your dressed in something scandalous (maybe Angel helps pick it out) and Alastor can’t take it anymore. Much degradation on the side pleeeeeease🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

a/n: degradation is my specialty 🩷 requests open!

tags: 18+ smut nsfw, slight coercion, degradation, choking

words: 1k~

ever since alastor met you, he struggled to understand you. rather, he struggled to understand what you did to him. you wore down the walls he so carefully built and did it effortlessly and it drove him mad. your smile, your voice, the genuine care you showed for him and everyone in the hotel.

you took up his every thought and he hated it. he hated that he couldn't stay away either. he just couldn't trust anyone else to protect you. he wants you more than he'd ever admit, and while everyone told him that you felt something for him, he chose to ignore it. but when he sees what you've decided to wear tonight, he nearly has a heart attack.

"what on earth are you wearing?" alastor speaks, cocking a brow when he sees you walking out of the hotel with angel. you smile shyly, out of your element in the flashy and revealing outfit angel styled you in. "oh this? yeah, i know." you laugh, covering your chest with your arms. it does nothing but push your tits further together, threatening to bust out of the barely there top.

"its a little much, don't you think?" alastor's eye twitches as he tries to suppress his anger. how dare angel dress you like this! "you don't like it." you frown, looking down at your outfit. he sighs, rubbing his temple. "it's not that..." he speaks before shooting a look at angel that would have burnt him to a crisp if possible. "i uhh.. i'll let you two talk." angel quickly scurries away, blowing you a kiss as he does so.

alastor's blood was boiling at this point. "do you understand the attention wearing this would earn you? is that what you want?" he's tugging you into the shadows with him before you're brought to his broadcast tower. "alastor what is going on?" your frown deepens when he bumps into his desk.

his final straw is watching you bend down to pick up the papers that fell, your entire ass on display as your skirt falls forward. he's behind you in a flash, one hand pressing your face into the wood of his desk while the other pins your arm behind you. all you can do is gasp for air and wiggle under his grasp but its no use. "now deary, you must be doing this on purpose." he growls, trying his best not to be too rough but he's having a hard time holding back. "a-al don't-" "keep your mouth shut." his harsh words make you shudder. "if you so desire to dress like a whore, you'll be treated like a whore."

alastor releases your arm, causing your eyes to widen when you figure out what he's doing instead of holding you. his clawed finger tears straight through your panties in a single stroke, exposing your pussy to him. "w-wait alastor, it's not what you think." you gasp out, but he's already sliding a finger through your folds. "what's that? are you saying that your cunt isn't basically begging to be used right now , hm? that you don't want to be fucked over my desk right now? because that's what that outfit was telling me. and now your pussy is telling me the same thing, darling."

he's slowly pumping a finger in and out of your now soaking cunt, the sound of your wetness filling the otherwise quiet room. "you'd let me, wouldn't you?" the second finger has you moaning into his desk, and against your better judgement, you nod your head as much as you can while being held down. "yes, i-i wanted you to see me." your eyes sting with tears as embarrassment fills you. god yes, you wanted alastor to see you in such a skimpy outfit. but you didn't expect him to lose it on you like this.

and still, every harsh word has you dripping and approaching orgasm faster than you could have expected. "now there's a good girl." alastor coos, a sense of pride filling him, rather, filling his aching cock. he hopes to never forget the sight in front of him, the way your skirt still hangs around your hips, your panties torn in two just enough that he can see your pretty pink pussy peaking between the slit he ripped.

"all you had to do is be honest, you didn't have to have angel dress you like a little sex doll just to get my attention. you shouldn't dare dress like that for anyone but me, do you hear that, sweetheart? i don't want to have to leash you as well, but i have no issue doing so if you can't behave." he ends his sentence by finally pushing his cock passed your puffy lips.

your eyes roll into the back of your head, fire scorching through your body as alastor plows his cock in and out of you. "a-al fuck, too big." you whine, bracing your hands on the desk with every thrust. alastor snickers behind you, only pulling out to flip your body around. being able to look up at him only makes this worse. the sinister smile on his face, his hooded, dark eyes. his clawed hand wraps around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you gasp for air. "don't you worry your pretty little head about that, darling. you can take it." he grunts when you clench around him.

alastor's pulling out just in time to paint your thighs and stomach with thick ropes of his seed. you whimper as you feel it splashing on your skin, covering you and your clothes. you feel dirty and used, and my god do you want this to happen again. alastor catches his breath before planting a kiss to your forehead.

"are you going to cum already? with my hand around your throat?" he would laugh, but it's possibly the hottest he's ever seen you. your eyes glassed over with tears, you nod. "'m s-so close, al." you pant, barely making the words out before waves of pleasure crash into you and you're cumming hard on his cock. your vision goes black, choked moans escaping as alastor fucks your sensitive pussy.

"the next time i catch you wearing something like that, i won't hesitate to make an example out of you." his words lack the same bite from earlier, but you still shudder at his implications. he turns to grab something to clean you up with but stops dead in his tracks when you speak.

"y-yes sir..." you whisper.

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feluka · 2 months

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Please support Yassin (@/yassindraws on twitter) if you have an account there. He's an Egyptian artist who is a victim of the regime's crackdown on protestors. He posts a lot of beautiful paintings.

Here's a some of them documenting his trauma from his time in prison.

[ID: Responding to a tweet by @/MustafaHosny that reads: "ايه الدعاء اللي نفسك يتحقق في ليلة القدر؟", a quote retweet by @/yassindraws that reads: "خروج كل المحبوسين ظلم و يعيشوا حياتهم و ينسوا كل الأيام الحزينة و يكون عندهم ذكريات سعيدة زي ما بقى عندي دلوقتي".

Attached is a traditional painting, depicting a man peering through a tiny window in his jail cell door. He is wearing a white T-shirt that says "تحقيق" and is turned away from the viewer. While his torso is distinct, his bottom half melds into the background, which is a vague pattern of teal and brown hues, meant to represent the wall, but also overcomes parts of the prisoners himself and the cell door, and bleeds into their outlines.]

[Translation: Responding a tweet that reads "What prayer do you wish will come true on the night of destiny?", he tweets "The emancipation of all the unjustly imprisoned, and that they will be able to live fulfilling lives and forget these miserable days, and be able to make beautiful memories like I have now."

The word on his shirt in the painting is an Arabic word that could be translated to either "interrogation" or "realisation".

The night of destiny is the night where the full moon appears during the month of Ramadan.]

[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws captioned "Memory". Attached is a traditional painting, depicting a dozen prisoners dressed all in blue, facing against the wall with their heads bowed. All of their hands are cuffed together behind their backs, save for the prisoner nearest to the viewer, whose hands are in front of him, exposing his back to a warden who is drawing back a whip. Another warden is pointing to the prisoner. All figures are abstracted and vaguely outlined, but especially the prisoners', whose faces are not outlined at all, and instead blend with the sepia-toned walls they are facing.]

[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws that reads: في سجن وادي النطرون صياد عجوز من سيناء مسجون من اربع سنوات كل يوم وقت التهوية "التريض" قاعد في الطرقة قدام الزنازين بيصنع شبكة علشان عنده أمل انه يخرج و يصطاد سمك بيها. لوحة رسمتها في سجن وادي النطرون ١ سنة ٢٠١٨ في شهر رمضان".

Attached is a traditional painting depicting a man in his jail cell wearing a white tank top weaving a net in red, green, and blue stripes. Where his neck and head would be, instead spouts a collection of lilac, lavender, and pink colored flowers from his tank top. At his side is a water bottle, and above it, pinned to the wall is a paper that says "هذا الوقت سيمر."]

[Translation: The tweet says "In Wadi-Al-Natroun prison, an elderly fisherman from Sinai, every day during "excercise" time he would weave a net because he has hope he will get out and catch fish with it. I painted this in Wadi-Al-Natroun prison in 2018 during the month of Ramadan."

The paper on the wall in the painting says "This time will pass.]

[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws that reads: مسجون كان معايا في سجن استقبال طرة زنزانة 1-4 كان محبوس لمدة 4 سنين في سجن العقرب و كان بيقول دايما انه لما جالنا بقى حاسس انه خرج من السجن من شدة قسوة ظروف السجن الاول".

Attached is a traditional painting of a man slumped over a folding chair, his arms folded around his chest. Where his head would be, a single rose sprouts from the neck of his blue sweater. It appears to be wilting.]

[Translation: The tweet says "He was imprisoned with me in Tora prison cell 4-1. He spent 4 years in Al-Aqrab prison prior, and always used to say that when he transferred to join us, he felt like he was emancipated because of how brutal his previous prison experience was.]

[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws that reads: "رسمت اللوحة دي في زنزانة رقم ١٤ انفرادي في سجن استقبال طرة 2017 كنت عايش في زنزانة لوحدي طول الوقت مبتكلمش مع حد مفيش غير حيطان مبتشوفش شمس لان الزنزانة جوة عنبر معزول".

Attached is a monochromatic traditional painting depicting a prison cell from the point of view of its sole occupant. There is a pair of slippers on the floor, and a couple of bags hanging from the ceiling. The word "الله" is written on the cell door. The painting is done almost entirely in blue, except for small specks of magenta and yellow arranged close to the center.]

[Translation: The tweet says "I painted this in cell number 14 in solitary in Tora prison. I lived in this cell all by myself with nobody to speak to but walls that never see sunlight because the cell was inside an isolated ward."

Written on the door is the word "God".]

The 2011 Revolution:

[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws posted on the 25th of January, 2024. It says: "لما كنا بنحب بعض"

Attached is a traditional painting depicting the events in Tahrir square in Cairo, Egypt, during the protests of January 25th, 2011. The median of the square is occupied with white and cyan tents set up by the protestors. The surrounding streets are flooded with masses of people, holding up signs. Some signs are abstracted, but some of them are legible, and they read: "حرية"، "سلمية"، and "الشعب يريد اسقاط النظام".

The masses of people are depicted abstractly by alternating patterns of black and white, but some of the heads in the crowd are splotched with streaks of bright red. Some red appears to be bleeding through some of the tents as well.

In tbe very center, among the tents, is a single yellow flower, painted at a scale larger than that of any item in the painting.]

[Translation: The tweet reads "When we loved each other". The signs read "Freedom", "Nonviolence", and "The people want to dismantle the regime".]

Mosque in Alexandria:

[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws that says "صلاة ��لتهجد النهاردة من مسجد القائد إبراهيم- الاسكندرية".

Attached is a dichromatic traditional painting depicting a mosque in Alexandria, Egypt. The painting is done with distinct vertical strokes representing the walls of the mosque, and horizontal strokes to represent the stairs. The figures of people praying and a tree by the stairs stand out as the most cohesive elements, represented by dark silhouettes. The painting is done with cyan as a base color, dark teal for the shadows, and bright yellow for the highlights.]

[Translation: The tweet says "Tahajjud prayers today at Al-Qaaed Ibrahim Mosque- Alexandria].

[ID: A traditional painting of a man sitting down on a step in a dimly lit room, sketching on a paper on his lap.]

[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws that reads "و انا صغير كنت بستنى اخر شهر رمضان محلات البقالة لما تبدء تبيع العاب و بلالين اللي ينحط فيها حبوب ارز و تشخلل و نعمل ازعاج للناس و كورة و مسدسات بلاستيك و كانت طموحاتنا نخرج في العيد بعيد عن اهالينا و الناس اللي تعرفنا و ننبسط".

Attached is a traditional painting of a typical Egyptian street. The road is unpaved and lined with trees. Children are marching along away from the viewer. Closest to the viewer is a figure sitting down on a stool next to a tree.]

[Translation: The tweet says "When I was a child, I would always wait for the end of the month of Ramadan so that the grocers start selling toys and balloons that we would fill up with grains of rice that we would rattle to make noise and annoy people and balls and plastic guns and our ambitions were to go out on Eid and go far away from our families and everybody who knew us and be happy".]

[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws that reads "I'm an Egyptian artist and I made this 🌻" (It ends with a sunflower emoji.)

Attached is a video of a young man with short cropped black hair and brown skin, dressed in light beige shorts that reveal a flower tattoo on his calf, and a navy blue short-sleeved t-shirt with a pattern of green and rose leaves. He is turned away from the viewer, holding a canvas that is slightly taller than him and approximately twice as wide as him.

He slowly turns around, smiling, revealing the painting on the canvas: a realistic sunflower on a sky-blue background.]

#i'm in awe of him #art #he always supports other artists and is super friendly to interact with!#give him a follow!

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buckyalpine · 2 years

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Hi love ! Can I share an idea with you if you’re currently doing requests !? I was thinking of Bucky and reader having a one night stand and reader accidentally ending up staying the night , too fucked out to move . Bucky didn’t mind . He actually spent the time he was awake beside her studying her features , all the things he didn’t notice the night before . He wanted to keep her there . He looked ethereal in the morning . He slips out of bed , leaving his Henley behind for her to wear and starts on breakfast. She wakes up some time later , confused as to where she is ,puts on his Henley and finds Bucky in the kitchen . She starts apologizing for staying over but Bucky reassures her he loved having her there and has breakfast ready for her . So they end up eating together , chatting and getting to know each other more . He takes her back to her place on his bike and when they get there he kisses her and asks her to go on a date with him . Just all the fluff and feels

18+

Mhm living for this, your brain is brilliant, this is adorable as hell

I imagine it as one night stands are Bucky’s thing. He’s really not into dating, that’s too much commitment when he’s dealing with stuff but it’s not like he can pretend he doesn’t have needs. His right hand can only do so much.

If its one thing about living in the future that he loves, its how sex is much more open. He’s happy for it. His dick is happy for it.

A night out with the team and a few drinks in, he can’t help but glance over every so often, to the pretty stranger at the bar. A couple more drinks in and he has his hands on your waist, his hips grinding on your ass, lips brushing against each other, soft little pecks becoming less innocent and you both know you need to be closer.

His place isn’t too far, the second you’re out of the cab, his hands are on you, your legs wrapped around his waist, a trail of clothes leading to his room. He catches himself off guard with how he’s moaning, he can’t help it, you’re taking him so well, letting him take all the pleasure he wants from your body and he’s giving you so much in return.

His hips are snapping against you, his hand gripping his head board, hes thrown you around in every position imaginable and your body feels like heaven. He normally doesn’t bother with names when he hooks up but fuck, he’s moaned and whined your name all night; you make his cock throb when you cry out for him. You couldn't even hold it in even if you tried, the way he pumped you full of his load, just to fuck it out of you with his cock filling you more, had you dizzy with pleasure.

He’s had his his fair share of one night stands but none quite like you. None where his cock is ready to go for another round within seconds because his body is craving more of your sweet warmth.

By the last round, it’s so much more intimate than he’s used to and he realizes he likes it. He loves being able to take his time to just feel your body, relishing in the warmth of your fluttering walls. Those soft moans leaving your lips spur him on, he gives into his need to be touched, his body shivering when your hands trail up and down his back. It’s soft and tender, a contract to the way you clawed at him earlier but he loves it. You’ve given him the best of both worlds.

His his thrusts are no longer slamming into you; hips hips gently rock, while he hands are laced with yours, keeping you pinned on the bed. Your legs wrap around his waist, and he can’t help it, moving his arms to wrap around your body, giving into the comfort of soft intimacy. You’re both exhausted but still desperate for each other, your final climax ending with your bodies wrapped around each other, clinging and moaning, hearts racing, waves of pleasure and sleep washing over you both.

Usually he’s alert enough to kindly escort his hook ups out of his room and bid them a good night but after his last release, he just wants to sleep. His body is relaxed, every muscle in his body feels like jelly. You’re already softly snoring against his chest and he doesn’t mind at all, his body drained. He felt like he was floating.

For the first time, he slept peacefully through the night, not a single nightmare crossing his mind.

He blinked awake, smiling to himself when he felt your warmth still tucked by his side. He already thought you were pretty from the night before but now he really gets to see your features. The soft slope of your nose, the curve of your jaw. The little pout of your lips. Your lashes fluttering against your cheeks. The cute little snores you made, staying wrapped up in his sheets. He liked the way you looked in his bed. Sweet. Angelic. Just your bare skin and his blankets. He would have been happy to wake up to that every day.

He shakes his head, realizing he’s getting a head of himself. He can’t help it though. Something about you had him smitten from the moment he saw you. He decides to get breakfast ready, its the least he could do for you, he would never just send you on your way. He leaves you his Henley, figuring your dress wouldn’t be the most comfortable.

When you wake up, you feel a little disoriented, blinking at the unfamiliar room you’re in. Then you realize you spent the night at his place and your cheeks heat up further, feeling embarrassed for staying over at a strangers house when they didn’t ask you to do that. You find your clothes neatly folded off to the side with his henely on top. You slipped it on, slowly making your way to find him, your heart beating out of your chest from how bad you felt.

Why did you stay over?!

“I-I’m really sorry, I should have gone home last night, I know I could have taken a cab home-

Bucky felt his heart jump a little when he saw you in his Henley, something about it just felt right. Then he registered your words and he cut you right off, there was no way you were going to apologize when he had the most peaceful night of his life because of you.

“No doll, I-I’m happy you stayed, I didn’t want-what I mean is I loved having you over- not in a weird way- ”He shook his head at his own rambling, blushing at the way you smiled at him. “I made us breakfast” He smiled shyly, getting you a plate and grabbing you some juice from the fridge.

You can’t help the way he made you laugh and smile, your heart doing jumping jacks, as the both of you talked over breakfast. You keep reminding yourself he was just being sweet and it was just a one night stand but you can’t help but want to spend more time with him.

He shared parts of his past and it broke you to know he didn’t sleep without nightmares. Your body heats up when he confesses he slept through the night with you by his side. Why did your one night stand have to be one of the sweetest people you had ever met.

He offers to take you home; you slowly get ready, your stomach churning a little because truthfully you don’t want to day to end. You want to spend more time with him but you know its not your place. He takes you on his motorbike and you hold onto him extra tight, enjoying one last ride before having to say goodbye.

He walks you to your doorstep and you expect him to give you a peck but his hands stay on your waist and he kisses you with passion. Your both lost in the kiss, lips moving softly, his hands pulling you closer. You both finally pull away for oxygen and his forehead is resting on yours, continuing to pepper little kisses in between breaths.

His blue eyes sparkle, taking a breath before speaking, he hopes to god you feel the same way. “I know last night started off as a one time thing but, um, I was wondering...if maybe..I liked spending time with you so..we could..do you want to..

You look up at him with hopefully eyes, already nodding while he stumbles through asking you out, giddy at the way your bouncing on your heels, waiting for him to spit it out.

“Would you like to go out? On a real date? with me?”

You couldn't say yes fast enough, kissing him again.

and of course one date turns into many dates because the more time he spends with you, the deeper in love he is with you.

Tags:

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jester-lover · 1 year

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Dorm Leaders with a Girlfriend who wears Suits

Warnings: fluff, very flustered boys, insecurity (not from the reader), talks of gender roles/identity, whoever reads this is so cool, reader is so hot and confident (did I mention she’s so hot)

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle has grown up in a certain structure, men lead, women follow, women lead, sons follow

When he sees you, dressed to the nines, not a care for the stares of others; something in him snapped

Head over heels

Considering his rule following tendencies, he is immensely attracted to the rebellious flair of a woman in a suit

You tend to notice him staring at you whenever you wear your male uniform

You always wink at him, reminding him you can see him too

Strawberry Riddle

“Um- well I wasn’t staring! It’s just- you look really pretty…”

Leona Kingscholar

Yes.

PLEASE.

His familial structure is very matriarchal, so seeing you, a confident woman just hits something in his soul

Bro, if you wear the male uniform, he will (politely) ask you to model the Savannaclaw uniform

If you do he’s literally on one knee

Girlfriend? I think you mean WIFE

Also he’s a lil afraid of you considering your confidence, you have a lot of power over people

Trying so hard to be all suave and cool and still such a sucker for you it’s funny

“Woah. I didn’t think anyone could make it work better than me.”

Azul Ashengrotto

He definitely thought you were a competitor at first

Who else would have such smooth banter, such playful glances, than an enemy trying to hinder his business!!

You definitely ask him out because he’s so in his own head, when you do, it’s like the wires in his brain connect finally

Also has a staring problem, the way that you walk with complete confidence, absolute disregard for anyone who speaks ill of you; he dreams of being like that

You lovelovelove pulling him in by his tie for a kiss, because he definitely places his hands on your shoulders all startled

“That lipstick suits you… What?! You think it’ll suit me too?! Don’t just s-say things like that!”

Kalim Al-Asim

Wowie!

This is the best combo ever, smiley pretty boy and a woman with endless personality

He literally buys you anything you want, new suit? Down. Makeup perfectly matching a new suit? Amazing! New shoes with a new suit? Take his credit card!

Kalim literally wants you to have anything you could possibly desire, so

Will buy both of you matching suits for galas and other occasions, and if anyone has the GALL to look down in you for your clothes, he’ll just leave along with you.

The public disgrace that would happen to that person for insulting the s/o of a member of the affluent Al-Asim family would be TREMENDOUS

“You look absolutely radiant. We look so cool!”

Vil Shoenheit

Masculine Wife, Feminine Husband.

He is so down you don’t even get it.

You help him out of the car? It’s trending on magicam in seconds.

Put your coat on a puddle so he can walk past without damaging his shoes? The paparazzi is loving it.

He adores your dynamic, the confidence you have matched his, and it contrasts with the opposite fashion you wear

“Dearest, the rose pinned to your lapel is a perfect match for the color of my overcoat, we will look stunning!”

Idia Shroud

404 error

Idia saw you once and he literally froze on the spot, you walked around like you owned the school!

The crisp edges of your suit reminded him of the butler from one of his favorite anime, so he was immediately nervous to talk to you

When you start dating, he begins to wonder what cosplays you would look good in,

Spy, demon butler, vampire princess, the possibilities are endless with your androgynous fashion

This one time, you took off your blazer, so you just wore a button up and slacks, and you looked so domestic, so old Hollywood beautiful, he burst into red flames

“I can’t believe you settled for someone like me. WHAT-what??! Stop calling me handsome! You really mean it? Wow…I- “

Malleus Draconia

Malleus loves this so much

The sheer power you exude, walking into every room and demanding attention, feminine mixed with masculine creating beauty beyond mankind

He’s obviously obsessed

On your nightly walks, he notes how you choose to take off the blazer in preference of a cardigan, he loves looking at little changes in your wardrobe

Mal is an old being, he’s seen fashion evolve, but I love to think he enjoys 40s/50s era fashion, the way that you choose to portray that style, he loves even more

As you grow more comfortable around one another, more affectionate, malleus will enjoy fixing your tie and buttoning your vests, small acts of domesticity feel so meaningful

He is another who will buy you expensive clothes, his future queen deserves the best

“My love, your tie is crooked. Perhaps you simply wanted me to fix it hm? Such a sly move…”

Welcome back to J sucks at dialogue and cries over pretty women.

But honestly I wrote this bc I want to feel more confident, and I want you to feel more confident!!!! I see a good amount of insecure reader posts, which are very good and comforting! But I would love to see more confident reader inserts. Thanks for reading, women in suits are amazing, and goodbye.

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st6rrrs · 4 months

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Could you please maybe do a Theodore Nott fic where he’s ghost face?

DONT MAKE A NOISE || GHOST FACE THEODORE X FEM READER

summary: there has been murders around Hogwarts recently, People say they have seen a person in a ghost mask, you would have never expected the person behind it al.

warnings: smut 18+, unprotected sex, dubcon?, blood, murder, violence, hair yanking, cursing, oral sex(m receiving), etc..

a/n: this is my first time writing something like this, im sorry if this is bad. short! rushed

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ' -

"Theo what if this ghostface person comes after you or me?" you sigh "im scared."

people have reported seeing a person in all black wearing a ghost mask. This person has already killed 4 people and you were scared that you and your best friend theo would be next.

"Dont worry i wont let anyone hurt you, ever."

you asked theo if he could sleep in your dorm room tonight because your roommate was with her boyfriend and you didn't want to sleep alone. You and theo were cuddling on your bed but you fell asleep..

you awaken due to the loud thunder storms and rain outside you look over to check on theo but hes gone?

"theo?" you immediately get up to see if he's still here but it was to dark. You get up to turn on the lights but they wouldn't turn on, maybe the power was out due to the storm.

you go to grab your phone on the nightstand and check the time 2:58am.

you were about to text theo but you see his phone on the nightstand also so decide your gonna go look for him because this isn't like him.

you go to the flash on your phone and turn it on

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ' -

"theo! are you out here?"

you been out here for a while looking for him, you were just about to turn back around and go back to your dorm but thats when u heard something, you get goosebumps.

you turn the corner and you immediately go pale. You see a dead boy on the floor with blood all over him and stab wounds, above him was that ghostface mask staring at you. the boy on the ground didn't look like theo thank god

you drop your phone and run as fast as you can to your dorm. right when your at your door you get pushed inside and hit your head on the wall. you groan out in pain and you feel something dripping down your head you go to touch it and its red.

you hear the door lock and suddenly you feel the ghostface grab you by your hair forcing you too your knees.

"please dont hurt me" you sobbed

he didn't respond all he did was unbuckle his pants that had blood all over them and pulled them down. You could see his hard on thru his boxers, you sobbed even more knowing what was bound to happen.

he released himself from his boxers his cock hitting your cheek. he then put a knife to your throat pushing it into your skin making you whine.

he opened your mouth with his fingers and forced his cock into your mouth moving your head back and forth stretching your mouth out.

you repeatedly gag on his cock, tears running down your cheeks. You drooled in the corner of your lips. His fingers raked through your hair Pulling at it as he thrusted into your mouth hitting the back of your throat. you feel him twitch in your mouth knowing he's close.

he releases in your mouth with a loud groan. He takes his cock out your mouth and covers your mouth with your hand and squeezes your nose shut so he can make sure you swallow.

you ended up swallowing because you couldn't breath. he grabbed your wrist and pushed you onto the bed and he gets on top of you the mask staring you in the face.

you feel weak from the amount of blood you lost when u hit that wall

your barely awake when u feel him take your shorts off and then pull your panties down your legs. He then rubs his cock through your folds and pushes himself into you and all you could do was lay there and take it.

"no stop" you moaned out trying to push him off but he just grabs your wrist together and pins them above your head slowly thrusting into you, he groans while speeding up.

hes thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace now, Your eyes were shut tight

"dont close your eyes on me now" he whispers in your ear while pounding into you, you realize that's the first thing he said to you all night.

"your taking my cock so well" he groans in your ear "so fucking tight"

He sounds familiar?

you feel that pit in your stomach that you shouldn't be having but your body betrays you.

your body tensing and toes curling as you come undone around him

he pulls himself back once more slamming himself inside of you while his dick twitches inside of you. you feel his cum shooting inside of you.

before he had a chance to stop you, you grab a hold of his mask and you pull it off...

this was rushed.

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#smut #slytherin boys #theodore nott #ghostface smut #theodore x reader #theodore nott smut #theodore nott imagine #ghostface x y/n

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squerlly · 3 months

Text

flames of desire chapter 7: setting it off

Alastor x (f! bunny reader) -NSFW-TW: mentions of rape

your POV:

"cmon relax I can make you enjoy my company in more ways then one~" with the snap of his finger the girls that were once at his side were gone, and it was me, him, and the background noise of the club "so what is a cutie like you doing here alone" "I-I was with angel..." "angel is here? well ill deal with that later, for now~" snaking one of hands on my thighs he inches closer under my dress, using his other hand to take a puff of his pipe, he blows the pink smoke in my face, drool dripping on the corners of his mouth "how about we have some fun yes~?" "wait-" my words are trailed off as I start to feel dizzy, I feel light like I could be blown away by the slightest breath, my body begins to feel hot, really hot "w-what did you do to me...." "oh nothing you wont enjoy" being laid down on the seat my head spins and his hands lift my dress "no- stop!" "don't fight it I know you want to~" no I'm not going to let this happed, come on y/n snap out of it!!, grabbing his hands I push him off "No I wont" frustrated he yanks me forward pinning me, my chest pressed against the seat "damn you stubborn bitch!" "NO get off of me!!!" after a while of struggling somebody pulls me up, everything went silent, no people just music. opening my eyes there's a hand around my waist, looking up its Alastor?! what the hell is he doing here!!

Alastors POV:

when my shadow informed me that valentino was at the club and with her I rushed there, were the fuck was angel, why isn't he with her!!! barging in the club everybody moves out of my way as I storm past the crowd seeing valentino on her. I rush to grab her up pulling her dress back down "valentino, I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut this short" "alastor, what are you doing here!" valentino said through gritted teeth, I tried my best not rip all four of his arms off right then and now, maybe later...."I'm afraid your messing with something that's mine" "uh huh ho does this little conejita have a contract with you" "no but that doesn't give you permission to touch her without permission!" "if she doesn't belong to you, then she free game~" "you wont dare if you value your life!" by now my patients is running thin "I'm taking her and if you ever lay a finger on her you will never see that finger again!!" picking her up I walk of with her in my arms, the poor thing was shaking and she smells of alcohol, surly drunk "this isn't over Alastor I will get her eventually!!!!" ignoring Valentinos yelling I head out of the club, outside was a very panicked angel.

your POV:

I have a terrible headache, I'm cold and I cant think straight what the fuck is happening, being carried I look up at Alastor he looked pissed, angry, the static radiating off of him was loud but he was gentle, like he was holding a piece of glass. angel ran over "Y/N!! there you are, iv been looking every wear for ya!! what happened" as angel reached out to touch me Alastor pulled back "angel you said valentino wasn't supposed to be there" "he wasn't h-he was supposed to be filming with the others back at-" "well he wasn't, and because of your carelessness valentino got his hands on y/n" angel turning his attention to me "he didn't hurt ya did he, y/n are you alright!?" "no angel I'm-" "he almost did, I'm taking her back, this will never happen again"

back at the hotel we walked through he doors, Charlie and vaggie waiting for us "Y/N!!! oh my Satan are you ok, we saw Al running out of the doors in a hurry" how did he know I was in trouble..."I'm alright Charlie I promise" "what happened!" "unfortunately valentino was at the club and angel lacking in supervision lost her, letting valentino take his chance" "Voy a matarlo! (im gonna fucking kill him)" "I got there just in time" "thankfully she's ok, you guys are ok..." "I'm gonna...I'm gonna go change"

walking out of the lobby Alastor follows close behind me "what are you doing.." "making sure you get back to your room" "why" "do I need a reason?" "no but can you explain how the hell you knew I was in trouble!" he pauses for a moment stopping in the hallways by my door "I was watching you.." "why are you stalking me" "because angel is carless and I was just being cautious!" "ok but you didn't have to be so mean to angel he was just-" "just what!?, explain to me my dear what do you think would have happened if I wasn't watching you, angel couldn't saved you because he was to busy fooling around" "why do you care!" "what do you mean why do I care" "the radio demon a mercy less overlord who was known for his broadcasted carnage over hell, heartless, and terrifying so why... why are you so concerned for me, I mean nothing to you, you follow me around give me weird looks, vaggie told me about you, told me to stay away..." "I don't know, I don't understand why..." looking up his smile is almost none existent, his eyes are dark as he look at me, the radio static in his voice was gone, just his plane old voice "I though my interest was just playful amusement, to toy around a bit, but the more I know about you, your smile your laugh that dress, it irks me, this feeling... I-I don't know what you did!" "Alastor-" "I would kill a demon for even looking at you funny!, I never cared about some lowly sinner...but I care about you, you have me rapped around your little finger and you don't even know it" all this time I though he wanted to kill me, even eat me or something but I never realized "Alastor.." I huff out a small laugh "what's so funny..." "I didn't put a spell on you, or curse you, or anything" grabbing his hand "this is all you and its completely normal" bringing my hand up to cup his cheek he leans in to the touch "don't look at me like that, you did something and I know it.." he mutters as I lean in closer, hunching over he leans in breaking the distance into a soft kiss pulling me closer. once I pulled away, looking at him I smile "I don't think I will ever understand this feeling but...I will try my best to show you how I feel" bringing my hand to his lips he places a soft kiss "goodnight my dear and get some much needed rest~" "goodnight Alastor"

I hope you enjoyed and I love you guys so much for the love and support have a wonderful day/night!!!

-squerlly

@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz

for more content or chapter please click this masterlist

#hazbin #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x y/n

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alastorsfuckassbob · 4 months

Text

Killing Me Softly- 4

AlastorxFem!Reader part 4

A/N: Ok so this is..uh LONG but its finally here!!! Val's text is in purple, yours is in blue, and Alastor's is red! As always bolded portions are the past..Yes I did revert to using another song sue me. As always: MINORS DNI

Plot: Valentino is a piece of shit You and Al are so shitty at feelings and communication..thats basically it.

⚠️Warnings:⚠️

-Sexual innuendos (they aren't graphic but they are spicy)

-Domestic abuse (this got a lot worse so please be mindful of that and use your own discretion- you are responsible for your internet consumption)

-Alcohol use AND abuse

-Violence!! ~mentions of blood~

-A LOT of cursing 🤠

You had decided to take “small nap” to rid your body of the final remnants of exhaustion from night before. That so called “small nap” somehow lasted a good ten hours, leaving you with only two before you needed to arrive at the club again. You sat on the edge of your bathroom counter, the excess silky fabric of your slip cascading over the edge. You grab a stray eyeshadow pallet and begin to apply your makeup. You had decided on an inky toned smoky eye and a lightly lined liquid lip. It was a bit different from your usual look, but it complemented your new wardrobe perfectly. You glanced over at the folded scarlet fabric, excited to wear it again.

You had decided to get ready at home today. Angel wasn’t working tonight, so there was no sense in being at the club earlier than you really needed to be. You snapped your fingers, and the shadow behind you began to style your h/c hair in his place. It wasn’t often Angel didn’t have to work on a Saturday night. Even in Hell, weekends came with higher foot traffic. Val insisted he had earned a break after yesterday’s long shoot. It was a rare occasion but not entirely out of character. Val couldn’t break his favorite toy.

After a few more pins, the shadow dawned a bright smile and jazz hands upon completing your hair. You looked absolutely gorgeous, the pitch black entity had done a fantastic job. Your hair was twisted into bouncy side swept curls adorned with tiny sparkling gems. You wanted to meticulously appreciate the effort it had so graciously put in, but your guilt riddled conscience kept you from any real form of enjoyment.

You needed to stop thinking of him. The more you let yourself fall back on memory, the more you would love him. The more you loved him ,the more it would hurt when he realized he couldn’t love you anymore. It wasn’t his fault, no one could. This was your penance. It wasn’t supposed to be easy.

Memory had sunk its claws into your wrist. It hopelessly dragged you along by its blood lined chains and scarlet stained fingertips like an old desperate beggar. The hold Valentino had on your soul was insubstantial in comparison to the grasp Alastor had on your heart. You didn’t understand why that was. Val was your whole life, and he would be until eternity itself figured out a way to die. It would make sense for him to reside in the core of your thought, but he didn’t, he never stayed there long.

Unlike Alastor, Val owned you.

Unlike Alastor, he was there

Unlike Alastor,

you could actually feel his lips on your skin.

He had a predictable consistency to him. It was always the same constant battle between his unquenchable hatred and guilty heart.

Val insisted he “loved” you in his own way. From the shackles on your wrists, he had tied you to the stake-All so that he could look for your love. He struck the match against your skin, and lit you both ablaze because he hated that he wanted it. In the end it would never matter how many times the heat touched your skin, it wasn’t going to feel like love.

You knew what that was supposed to feel like. You had shared your heart with a great many souls in your time on Earth. Love was bathed in forgiveness and brushed with magnolia petal kisses. That love didn’t see you through eyes lined with antagonism, sparkled with fury and blended out with shades of exasperation.

Valentino did.

His lips were colored in hot pink brutality. It would smear across your skin with every kiss. He would leave you haloed in messy lipstick stain bruises and be on his way.

His absence never lasted long. The color in his cheeks was permanently rouged with the lethality of your figure. Eventually, the guilt would seep through his pores, and the chemical reaction would wash his face of your blood. He would return with a silver plated tin bracelet and a few mangled words of affirmation.

“ Y/n, you know I love you. I didn’t mean a word of it Mi Amore. You are the most beautiful demon this side of hell. I just get so upset sometimes there’s nothing else I can do. I can’t control my anger Amorcito, you know that.”

It’s not that he couldn’t control his anger, he was fully capable. He just didn’t. He never thought it was important to try. Even in his time on Earth, he didn’t care to put forth the effort. He was born with distain and died with detestation. He had always been this way. The guilt he felt afterward would never amount to the freedom found in his bloodied hands. There wasn't a finite limit to the apologies he could patch the holes he punched into your heart with. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. Any remorse he felt would slip from his conscience like every instance before it. It made sense how quickly he was able to rise into over lord status.

Your focus shifts to the cherry fabric folded beside of you. You haphazardly grab the dress, lifting it over your head. Its crystal beads babbling in your ear as you slide it on. For a moment, the ghost of your human body silhouettes your demonic figure in the mirror. Distant memories began to bubble up to the surface. In the true spirit of avoidance, you hopelessly shut them out as you grabbed your satin purse and walked out the door.

As you left the building the newly warmed breeze swirled through your hair. The sunny weather practically lifting your wings for you as you flew towards the club. You reveled in the distance it granted you from your life. From the above clouds, Hell was actually rather pretty. The seemingly dull color scheme found a bit more variation the higher you flew. The different areas of the city blending into one. With each flap of your wings, the clouds whispered murmurs of freedom into your ears. For just a moment, it almost didn’t feel like hell.

The rest of the flight is relatively peaceful, excluding the occasional scream from the city below. Eventually you arrive at the club and head to your dressing room. You plop down on the velvety plush sofa seated against the wall. It was still a bit early for places, so you elected to read one of Angel’s trashy magazine to pass the time. A ginger knock at the door draws your focus from celebrity scandals and tv drama.

“Amorcito”

Valentino’s voice worms itself into your ear. He leans against the door frame looking for any indication of fear on your face. He didn’t want to scare you off before he had the chance to explain himself. You shoot him a tired glare and return to your magazine. Even if you wanted to answer it’s not like you had the ability to.

“Right, I forgot.” He muses, his smirk practically bleeding into his eyes. With a wave of his hand , the sigil on your wrist begins to spark in a hot pink glow. In a puff of smoke, your voice returns to you.

“Do you need something Val” you ask. It comes out a bit raspier than you had intended. Hopefully he didn't take it as a form of aggression. You had somehow landed yourself in his good graces, and you didn’t want to fall from them any sooner than you had to.

“I can’t have you sitting silent for your dear clients now can I y/n?”

You didn’t respond. Mentally, you rolled your eyes. The statement was laughable. He would tear your soul to pieces if he could hear the sarcasm racketing around your brain at the current moment.

“Mi amor, you know I didn’t mean it. I can’t have my favorite muñeca upset with me, can I?”

You stay silent. Your body still wept with the soreness of the night before, but he had come here with the expectation you would nurse his pride back to health.

“You know that I love you baby” His tone was permeated with an emotion you couldn't quite place. For the first time, the desperation on his face surpassed the bloodlust. It lacked his usual innuendos and crude curses. If you hadn't known better you might have believed he really did- yet something deep within you really did want to believe he could be good. Maybe he didn't love you but he did feel slightly sorry and maybe that would be enough. You stood up from the sofa and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I know you do Val. Don't worry about it" The words are sweet but the emotion behind them is entirely dead. His arm slinked around your waist, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips.

"I want to thank you, for the dress. Its really beautiful. You have great taste” You added. Your hand layered on top of his, a gentle, but very obviously fake smile curving into your lips. Val loved compliments, the antennae on his forehead usually perked up whenever he received one.

To your surprise, he started to laugh, his shoulders shaking in its ferocity. “ Y/n you can’t be serious.”

You didn’t really understand what was funny or why you were nervously laughing along with him. You didn’t have to know why, you just had to go along with it. If you had to guess, he was probably intoxicated in one way or another. Most of the other performers and employees constantly were on some level. It would make sense if he was too. “I’m almost insulted you would even pretend that I would put you in something that tacky, and not to mention conservative. I treat you better than that don’t I?”

With that, you were even more confused..Did he not gift you the dress? Where the hell else would it come from? You couldn't even begin to craft a response. You had to come up with something quickly, and improvisation(lying) was not your best skill. Your mind darted from one lame excuse to another. You didn’t have time to think critically about it you just had to say something.

“Yeah I thought it would be a funny joke, I agree it is a bit old fashioned, It definitely needs a little update..I liked the color though.” You lied straight through your teeth. It wasn't clear if he had bought into your practically incoherent rambling. As all good liars do, you dug the hole a few feet deeper with a few more details to seal the deal. “I wasn’t sure how to alter it so I thought I’d ask you for your opinion”.

Even if the excuse was lame, it covered all the bases.

“In my opinion we shred it” His quiet laugh sounded egotistical to say the least. If something or someone didn't fit his taste he saw no reason why it should exist.

Disappointment drapes your frame from the tips of your horns to the bottom of your heels. Even if the dress had apparently spawned from some freaky stalker, you really did like it.

“Are you sure I couldn’t just wear it as it is for one night? I could add a slit or something for the next time "Hope laced your bargain as you spoke. You knew he would probably say no but you couldn't help but ask.

“Y/n, Baby, as hot as I think you look in anything. This dress is going to need some serious alterations if you expect to wear it in front of our rowdy crowd. I can't let you go out there dressed like a nun, it would be awful for business” His face twists into a sly sneer. An idea bubbled on the surface of his thoughts.Before you can register what is happening, his hands are tracing the outline of your hips. Each separated claw of his fingers ran down your body until they stopped just above the outer edge of each thigh. On the surface the action didn't exhibit his typically harmful nature, but if you dared to look even a fraction of an inch closer you would see its minatory subtext.

“Don’t worry, I think we can figure out something simple out for tonight”. His fingers draw together into a unified line. He digs his nails in a little deeper into you as he drags them down your leg until they reach the floor. He had effectively sliced a high slit on both sides of the dress, with little to no effort. He had pushed a little too deeply in some areas, small pricks of blood leaked from a few irregularly shaped scratches in consequence.

“You look like perfection in red baby”, he breaths out. He stayed crouched on the floor for a moment. You couldn’t tell if he was admiring the surprisingly straight lines of his work or the dots of blood that speckled your skin. He takes your hand in his and places a wet kiss on your wrist where the sigil had been burned into your skin.

“I can’t wait to see you shine tonight Amorcito”

He kissed up your arm as he rose from the floor. The way his tongue slithered around your forearm made you dreadfully uncomfortable. The feeling was slimy and otherwise indescribable. You were almost grateful you didn’t have the words to describe your disgust so that the feeling would die with you instead of being passed around to others by language.

You were eternally grateful when he finally walked through the exit. He was finished with his fun with you, at least for now.The club had opened a little more than ten minutes ago. As its owner, he had an obligation to fulfill his duties (flirt with hot guys) ,and supervise the club floor (get blackout drunk and fuck aforementioned hot guys ). Val loved to watch as sinners got down and dirty in the corners of his dimly lit clubs. It was a bit of an ego boost to know he had helped create an environment that led to that sort of thing. He enjoyed the epigrammatic conversations and miscellaneous substance his customers brought with them. He was great at sharing when it came to things that weren’t his own. He loved to hear them praise his accomplishments, and disclose the desire they shared for him and his performers almost as he loved to get high. By the look of tonights crowd, he was in for another pleasurable evening, or so he thought.

A curt laugh track interrupted the regularly scheduled cycle of conversation. Val’s head practically spun backwards upon noticing the deer eared demon lounging at the edge of the balcony.

"What the fuck is he doing here" Val grunted under his breath. He was supposed to be dead.

Alastor, apparently, never received the memo. He sat with a glass of indifferent whiskey in the VIP segment of the balcony above. He was fitted in a well cut vermilion pin stripe suit and a pair of wing tipped oxfords. Despite his polished exterior and perpetual smile, his eyes were glossed in boredom.

The conversations of lower demons never really intrigued him, they didn't speak much about anything outside of the bounds of recreational drug use. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he had spent time in that particular circle back in his younger days. Perhaps it was the drastic change of aesthetic, or maybe the culture surrounding it had just shifted too much for his liking, but it just didn’t appeal to him anymore. Alastor found the environment dreadfully exhausting. The distinct loud bump of electronic base and synthesized beats made it hard to hear his own thoughts. He was in for a long boring night. There really wasn’t anything more for him to do than pass judgment on the tasteless decor.

He looked around at the tacky overtly sexual paintings hung against the walls. It was one of Valentino’s classier clubs, but that doesn’t mean the interior designer wasn’t entirely delusional when they picked out its color pallet. For lack of a better word, it was just ugly. The Deep pinks and vibrant reds of the walls accented the white porcelain pillars that framed them. (Vaguely reminiscent of a tampon) The dark purple of the leathery chairs somehow blended in with the black marble tile in such a hideous way the word “unity” didn’t even begin to spark his mind.

With the exception of its more intimate performance space and higher end clientele, it wasn’t that much different than the typical club experience Valentino provided. It still featured his usual sex rooms and coke lined tables, despite its overall calmer energy. Alastor didn’t understand how you ended up in a place like this. It didn’t seem like you. He had instructed the newest soul under his contract to follow you and figure out your daily routine and “basic facts of life”. He would never admit it, but he was mostly curious to learn of your relationship status. He wanted to know if you had gotten married or if you had moved on. He had been dead for years ,it would make sense if you had. He didn’t want to step back into your life unless he knew everything.He needed to know what approach would work best on you. “Evidently” you weren’t just outwardly spouting that information into the hilltops. The poor soul came back with a list of two locations and not much else. Naturally, it didn’t get to live much longer. He was not a man to have his time wasted. If he wanted something done correctly the first time he should have just done it himself. So here he was, awaiting your performance.

Valentino walked across the crowded floor, his clenched fists glued to his sides. Alastor’s bored expression made his blood boil. He carelessly dodged dancing couples and trays of champagne in his quiet anger. Val never liked that old timey prick or his rickety dated voice. It grated his ears endlessly, not to mention he was just flat out annoying. If Val wanted to listen to some random lanky old man’s diet British accent and senseless uppity rambles; he would have turned on Downton Abby or some other old pretentious shit. Each step he took towards the radio demon deepened the scowling smirk growing on his face. If Alastor was going to ever so nonchalantly seat him self and a glass of whiskey in the VIP section of HIS club, at least one of them going to have his fun with it.

“I didn't take you to be a fan of my work Alastor, lovely to see you as always” Val slid into the booth across from him. The remaining groups still seated at the surrounding tables grabbed their drinks and found a better place to be. It was a well known fact the two of them weren’t friends

“I am most decidedly not! however the streets of hell will not stop praising a certain canary singing on your steps, and I am by far intrigued" His eyed narrowed as his grin grew wider.

“Oh really? It is my little siren you are interested in? Don’t let her pretty little face fool you, she’s a real bitch to work with. She thinks shes hot shit just because the sound of her voice is enough to chain any demon.” He feigned disinterest, flicking his nails to the side to observing their color.

“Oh really~Where ever did you find her? Surely if she is this talented I would have heard of her already" Agitation seethed through Alastor's voice. He had never liked Valentino, he found his methods to be crude and unseemly. The way he spoke of you hazed Alastor's vision in permanent red. He had killed far greater demons for far less than the disrespect he had sent your way. However, he knew he couldn't act on that urge quite yet. He was on a mission. He needed to know more about why you were here first in the first place. No one here would know better than the sleazy club owner himself.

“ I don’t really think that’s your business" Valentino accused, venom dripping from his tongue. He didn't really care why the radio demon had taken such a fast interest in a lowly sinner like you. It didn't matter. It gave him something to work with. He had something he didn’t. Pride is a fickle thing, he could use this to get under his skin.

He didn't want a physical altercation by any means, not in his own territory anyway. Vox would never let him live it down if he started a fight in his own club and accidentally tore it to the ground in the process. A verbal sparring session would have to do for now. Val loved starting any sort of argument he could conceive.

"My little dove tends to shy away from the limelight. She used to do all of her performances behind a mask, but don’t you worry I was able to coax her out of it." (are you secretly the masked singer?? omg) "You'll be in for a wonderful show tonight." Pride overtook Valentino's usually mendacious features as he spoke. He had something Alastor didn't. Val wanted nothing more than to spark jealousy in his heart. Alastor, wasn't oblivious to his intentions, it just wasn't his primary focus. More-so, he felt frustrated with questions he couldn't ask. You couldn't have been in Hell for more than a few days. How many performances had you really had time for? The possibility you had existed down here for any longer than that didn't exist to him.

"Now Valentino, there's no reason to be secretive, unless you have something to hide. Surely if this woman is as fantastic as you say she is, there is no need to hide the details of her origin, I'm sure it must be quite the story" A deceitful glimmer coruscated his smile, as he took another careless swig of whiskey. His pointed fingers gripped tighter around the glass, cracking its edge.

" Actually-it’s the opposite, trust me its not even worth mentioning” Val laughed. “Why not enjoy the present and focus on her current skillset a? Surely you must have seen her around somewhere, she’s a real star on film." His tone was maliciously sweet, but the dry rasp of his voice revealed the truth. A dark glint flashed in his eyes as he thought of your previous work.

Getting information out of "barney the big purple pimp" Valentino was going to be harder than Alastor had previously anticipated. Any information he might’ve had on you was under lock and key. At this point, he considered just ripping off Valentino's stupid little egg shaped head and calling it a day. He didn't understand what you saw in him or this dingy sweat stained bar. In your time on earth, the two of you had spent many nights dancing together in the speakeasies and glitzy clubs of New Orleans. This wasn't the type of establishment you would usually go in for. He had always known you to see the best in others, even if they so evidently didn't deserve it. You sharpened your sword for those you deemed worthy even if they despised you for it. If you were here it must meant you had seen something worth redemption within him.

"You must be very proud of her accomplishments to rave on about her in this way" Alastor’s voice was fitted in the same snarky tone you often took with Valentino, but unlike you, he could tear the whole club apart with a snap of his fingers. Val didn’t want to deal with that, not here. He would have to wait and slit the radio demon's throat outside of his territory.

"Enjoy the show Alastor.” He quipped promptly showing the conversation to its end. Valentino walked away before he could get in a word otherwise.

Val didn’t know the nature of Alastor’s apparent attraction towards you, but he personally knew the pain desperately wanting something you couldn't have caused. Ironically, Alastor was the indirect cause of that familiarity. Through Valentino's partnership with Vox, obsession had sprouted. Something about the way his televised voice distorted in anger drew him in. He had been caught on his snarky personality and quick wit almost as much as the pitiful reassurances the TV demon would occasionally throw his way. He knew the feelings he had amounted for Vox were never going to be reciprocated. He would never look his way so long as the radio demon walked the streets of hell. Even if Valentino couldn’t bring about his revenge in his typical violent way, he was determined to get it. You were the key he didn’t know he had. After all, no sinner could resist the call of your sweet song or the appeal of your hips. The radio demon would be no different.

Eventually, one of Val’s assistants called you to places. You walk through the backstage area, a trail of glittery red streaming behind you. You always loved the moment before the show began. It was typically quiet, everyone attended to their own business. They rarely stopped to bother you, it offered you a moment of order before the chaos this performance would plunge you into. You grab a sugar rimmed shot glass from underneath the bar cart left for the performers. You didn’t bother to read the labels on the bottle as you poured a heavy handed shot. As soon as the liquid touched your lips you realized it had been gin. Despite the burning in your throat, and the sour taste it left in your mouth, you refilled the glass a few more times. On some level, you felt guilty for the amount of alcohol you had just consumed.On a deeper level, you knew you couldn’t make it through a set without it. It was a means to an end, nothing more.

Valentino’s compulsion for revenge had led him towards the velvety amethyst curtains of the stage you stood behind. Whatever good mood he was in earlier had vanished, his disposition was dripped in murderous rage. He storms up to you, roughly taking your chin in his hand.

“I don't fucking know why or how but the radio demon is here. You better make me look good-I’ve already throughly sung your praises and I will not be embarrassed in front of that shit head” He paced as he spoke hostility following at his heels. “For some reason, he has taken an interest in you. I need you to give an extra little show to the balcony he’s seated in the center. Hes the lanky washed out red asshole with the bitchy little antlers, you can’t miss him.” The words he had spoken jumbled in your brain. You weren’t really paying attention, the calming aura of the alcohol had begun to hit your system.

“I thought he was dead, are you sure it’s him?” you mumbled as you picked of the remaining sugar crystals from your glass.

You had briefly heard of the radio demon in your time-He hadn’t been around for years, most demons speculated that someone finally managed to kill him. He disappeared three years after your arrival in hell, but his methods left a lasting impression. The agonizing screams he had broadcasted still echoed in your dreams occasionally. However, despite your deeply rooted fear, you admired him on some level. He was clever to say the least, and his morals weren’t entirely questionable either. He thought dealing in cheaper souls was crass and frankly unnecessary. He left weaker demons alone, unless they stepped in the way of his path.He wouldn’t pick a fight with anyone he didn’t deem strong enough to fight back.

His hands shoot against your throat, the force of the action drags you into sobriety. His fingers thrust deeper into your skin as he lifts you from the floor by your neck. He had a lot riding on this, and he wasn’t going to let your indifference ruin that. Your grasp on the shot glass loosens as your vision begins to spot from the lack of oxygen. It falls from your hand and shatters with the impact.

“Your job isn’t to ask questions, it’s to get out there and make me look good” he drags your body closer and growls into your ear.

He slams your body against the floor of fragmented glass. The sole of his foot makes contact with the palm of your hand, pushing the shards deeper into your skin. Crimson flowed through the wounds in a steady pour. Hot tears took residence in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

“ If you fuck this up for me, I’ll do a lot worse than just take your voice Y/n. You don’t want to see me angry. I promise you, you won’t like it.” His foot presses harder against your skin. His dark tone sends shivers down your spine. He had released his grasp on you, but the syllables that slithered out of his mouth constricted around your throat.

Despite your decision not to cry, the tears began to spill. They weren’t entirely motivated by the pain. The situation had become too similar to those that had existed in your life, and this was your body’s reaction to that. The heat from his glare could have cauterized your wounds. He removed his foot from your hand as he crouched down next to your tear stained figure. His fingers graze the edges of your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he wipes droplets from your face.

“I can’t wait to see you tonight Amorcito, you always put on such a good show for me.” He kisses your injured hand, the cuts begin to close as his lips come into contact with your skin. He licks the remaining blood from his lips and returns to the club floor- leaving you in a pool of maroon colored regret and splintering glass.

You watch the stage manager’s eyes roll as they grab a mop to clean up the mess. Whatever they were getting payed, it wasn’t enough. Although the ordeal wasn’t out of the ordinary, it was definitely inconvenient. You stand up from the floor brushing the remaining glass off of your dress and walk through the curtains and onto the stage. Even without a physical mask, you were still wearing one. You dawned a bright sultry smile and an uppity attitude as you waved to your adoring fans. At times the outlandishly theatric persona could be fun. The ecstatic cheers of the crowd after each movement made you feel powerful in an odd way. The attention often fueled your performance into the more seductive destination Val had wanted to begin with. It was a means to an end, nothing more.

“Good evening to all of my lovely sinners in the audience” The sound of your voice echoed over the endless chatter of the club. You sat down at the edge of the rounded stage, your legs dangling over its edge. The short demon in front of you practically drooled as your body edged a little more off the platform in his direction. You noticed his reaction and wanted to take things a step further. Your wings spread, taking you closer to the table he sat at, the edge of your finger tilting his head up to meet your own.

“I’ve got a wonderful show in store for just you tonight” Seduction over took your tone as you blew the demon a kiss leaving the entire table absolutely dumbfounded. You travel back to the stage with various sexual remarks towards the other inhabitants. You sit back on the stage, slowly extending your legs to the side, crossing them as you do. You tease the slits in your dress to the side revealing a bit more skin. The patrons erupt into a sea deafening screams.

The lights suddenly cut out, you dissipated with them. The shred of an electric guitar echoed throughout the space. An array of red and purple spotlights flood the center of the stage. You reappear in a puff of smoke as they do. The music was a bit “edgier” than what you’d usually go for. The genres you listened to spanned a vast array of styles, but you usually preferred to sing the softer tunes of the earlier decades. Valentino’s typical clientele however, needed a newer, rougher pop/rock sound. The drum set clicks in tandem with the percussive click of your heels as you begin your dance.

A wickedly wide grin stretches across your face, you were ready to start the show. You began to sing.

“I heard he sang a good song

I heard he had a style”

This was your compromise. You could sing anything you wanted to so long as you updated the instrumentals. Most of the people in the club were too wasted to listen to the lyrics anyway. It didn’t really matter what you sang as long as you sounded good and looked hot doing it. Hell’s population would eat up anything you served them. Their mouths began to water as you drop to the floor, arching your back away from them. The music flowed through you, awakening a deep sensuality in your movement . Each twist of your hips accented the intense chords and high hat hits of the accompaniment. Your hair formed a halo around you as you turned onto your back. Your legs extend into the air earning an influx of vulgar cheers from the surrounding demons. Any softness your voice had once held disappeared as growled into the next phrase.

“And so I came to see him

To listen for a while”

You slowly slid up from the floor, your hands following the shape of your curves until they reached pit of your neck. Your fingers splayed against its circumference as you rolled your eyes back into your head. You glanced up to the balcony to make sure the radio demon was watching, the dim lighting prevented you from seeing anything more than his silhouette.

Alastor wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the glance you threw him, or your performance. On the one hand, he was endlessly enamored with you. Alastor would have dedicated the rest of his life to sing your praises in that moment if you had just asked him to. He loved to listen to you sing and watch you dance in any context.

On the other hand however, it made him extraordinarily jealous. He hated the lewd comments and desire filled glances of the other demons around him. It made sense they were attracted to someone like you, but that doesn’t mean he liked that they were. He would remember each face that dared utter such filthy things about you, and deal with them later. His attention shifted back to your voice as you spun your voice into a decadent riff.

“And there he was this young boy

A stranger to my eyes”

You turned upstage to the silver pole that spun in its center. Hundreds of eyes glazed over in pure lust as your spine pressed against the pole. You were practically suffocated with screams as your form flipped upside down. You dropped one arm from the pole, the tips of your wings grazing the floor as your newly freed hand followed the lines of your body.

Your exaggerated and frankly pornographic expressions as you twisted against the pole made Alastor apprehensive. The feeling of unease was not caused by disgust but concern. As much as he loved to listen to you sing, this didn’t feel right for him to watch. It felt too fake. You looked far too uncomfortable for his liking.He had seen you in a more intimate light before. Even decades later the mere thought of your gentle gasps and fluttering lashes dragged him up from hell and sent him straight to heaven. He was familiar with the grind of your hips against his own, and the feeling of your hands in his. He knew every freckle on your body and the exact degree of your spine’s curvature. He loved nothing more than to worship each fold in your figure. He adored the gentle light that always seemed to flicker in your eyes in those sensitive moments. He reveled in your loving glances and gentle touches he was not bothered with the sexuality of it all but rather its performative nature. This felt too over the top. Despite your energetic movements and sensual smile, your eyes were cold and dead. He didn’t want his memory caught on your legs wrapped around his waist or his head between your thighs if it was just a performance. It didn’t feel right to. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and focused on the sound of your voice. Even with its dolorous tamber the whisper of your gentle heart found its way to seep through.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words

Killing me softly with his song"

You notice Val seated between two tall blonde demons with their legs crossed over his. He was very clearly not impressed with them or your movements on the pole. His disinterest grew with each sip of his drink. He gives you a pressing look. In that moment you knew exactly what he wanted. He had had enough of your stalling. You looked good but you needed to look better.

"Killing me softly with his song

Telling my whole life with his words

Killing me softly with his song"

With a slight roll of your eyes, you fly up to the balcony. You place yourself onto the thick marbled railing with your back to the radio demon. With a quick twist your of your hips, you straddle the banister your body rolling against it ever so slightly. You make direct eye contact with the patron in the center booth. He wore a mask crafted in wilted black rose petals and the scent of death, but underneath he held your late lover’s face. His deep red eyes meet your own e/c ones The glimmer of his previously golden swirled dark brown eyes clashed against his current ghostly red ones He brushed a strand of his straightened two toned hair to the side of his face. He carried the same nose, body, and expression as Alastor- Your Alastor. You turn upstage to compose yourself. You sway your hips to the beat of the music in order to keep up appearances. You turn your weary head behind you to his table to make sure you hadn’t imagined it. Even in its outstretched state, his smile gave him away. It really was him. After years of searching, you had finally found him, or better yet, he found you. For just a moment, you had forgotten your penance and your heart flowed with oceans of love. You floated within them in pure ecstasy. In that moment, and animosity you held for him faded away with the weight of your excitement.

"I felt all flushed with fever

Embarrassed by the crowd"

Abruptly the realization hits you, he was seated where the radio demon should have been- that must mean that Alastor; Your Alastor, was the radio demon. Your mind flipped to the initial radio broadcast he first spoke to you with, as well as the note signed “yours truly”. Alastor had used that phrase so often as a sign off from the radio show…..Perhaps you weren’t the sharpest little crayon in the demon filled box- considering the embarrassingly long time it took you to put the pieces together.

"I felt he found my letters

And read each one out loud"

Realizing this sent a wave of relief through you. Perhaps he could free you from this life, he was one of the strongest demons in hell. If anyone could break your contract with Valentino, it would be him...Would he even consider it? Your mind swirled in a storm of questions. Why the sudden change? As the relief of the initial realization began to fade and a new understanding took root. He had left you in life, why would he want to help you now?

You couldn’t help but wonder why he was really here. Considering his previous track record, nothing made sense. Why would he speak to you within his broadcast, or gift you the dress, or show up to your workplace if he hadn’t payed you any mind in such a long time?

He must have wanted something from you. That would be the only logical reason for his sudden appearance. If he truly had always been the radio demon, he held power. He had all of the necessary resources to find you and he never did. He didn’t need to.

"I prayed that he would finish

But he just kept right on"

You think back to the various gifts he would purchase you before he asked something of you, or the roses he would send to your apartment if you two had an argument in your life together. Your years of wondering why he had left boiled down to one simplistic answer…He had always just needed something. The more you thought on this, the more painfully obvious it became. He wasn’t here because he loved you. He was only here because you had become convenient again.The second he deemed you impractical, he would leave you as he had before.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words"

You fly away from the balcony, sliding down the metal pole in the center of the stage to reach the floor. You were thankful the stage lights blinded you from his pressing gaze once you were on the ground. You would ignore the balcony entirely for the remainder of the performance. It didn’t matter if Valentino would be upset, you couldn’t bear to look at Alastor anymore- Yet even with your newfound distance, he had chained you to memory. You were transported back to the downtown apartment in which you had previously spent so many hours with him in.

1930 New Orleans: Your apartment

The candlelit room was a patchwork of miscellaneous vintage furnishings and modern decorative trinkets. You had moved into your apartment not long after your father had passed. Most of the items within it were gifted to you upon his death. He preferred victorian architecture over all else, it was natural his taste in interior design would follow. You leaned against the sage patterned love seat with a cooling cup of tea in hand. The star speckled sky, and tepid air of late April seep through your opened window.

You awaited the arrival of your lover. Alastor wasn’t a man to be late. He was meticulously early and always prepared. His absence had begun to torment you in anxiety. The grandfather clock stationed in the corner of the room struck midnight, furthering your worries. He was supposed to arrive at 7:30, obviously it was long past that.

He had promised to take you out dancing to make up for the late hours he had begun to keep at the studio. He had become more withdrawn than you cared to admit. He disappeared for days at a time. On the few days you managed to get ahold of him, he dismissed you, insisting he needed to keep working on his show. It aggravated you to no end, but you would never want to be another obstacle on the way to his dreams. It was easier to let it go and enjoy the time you did have with him.

You had the bad habit of jumping to the worst scenario.You didn’t live in the safest sector of the city, it was entirely possible he had been attacked along the way. Your mind shifts to the uprising of missing person’s cases New Orleans had been plagued with. The media speculated a killer of some kind, but the police department denied those theories. They hadn’t found any of the bodies, and refused to believe they were going to.

If he wasn’t here within the next hour, you were going to search for him yourself.

"Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song"

An abrupt knock steals you from your worries, you rush to its source without a second thought. You open the door to the dark curly haired man you had been waiting for. To your surprise, his usually tidy hair was unkempt and rumpled around his newly bruised face. His disheveled blood stained clothing reflected the crimson pouring from his nose. You froze like a deer in headlights, it was one hell of a way to show up for a date.

"Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song"

“Oh my god” you whispered under your breath. Your hands appear at the sides of his face tracing each little scratch and the deep bruise forming around his eye. “Love..what happened? Are you okay?” You stuttered out.

He sent you a sheepish smile, not wanting to raise any concerns.“May I come in” he asked placing his hand on top of your own.

His “previous activities” were rather impromptu. Usually, his targets were much better thought out, and handled much more methodically. Although he enjoyed the anguished screams of his victims, he would never hurt anyone who wasn’t actively or indirectly hurting you, the same applied to this kill. The timing wasn’t ideal but it was a necessity.

He had decided to walk to the flower shop from the station so he could surprise you with a fresh bouquet before your date. He felt tremendously guilty for his recent absences, and wanted to alleviate that with a gift. Even if he missed you dreadfully, New Orleans birthed the scum of the earth. It was more important to keep you protected than to keep long expanses of your company. He would never forgive himself if something he could have prevented happened to you.

Upon his arrival into the shop, he was rather annoyed with the short brutish man that held up the line. He shamelessly flirted with the owner of the shop, who very clearly did not care for his advances. Alastor wouldn’t stand for such behavior. It was better to deal with the issue then instead of allowing you to continue to exist in a world full of degenerates. He would do anything to keep you safe.

Once the man had finally left, he followed him until they reached a quiet alley. He pulled the knife from his coat pocket, ready to strike. He stabbed the man’s back and twisted the knife in as far as it would go. However, the man was a bit stronger than he anticipated. It was the first time anyone had bothered to fight back.

His most recent kill had gotten sloppy, and here he was covered in blood on your doorstep in consequence. He never wanted any of the evidence to be tied to you, so he had learned to keep his distance. On this particular occasion however, he didn’t have much of a choice. He had dismembered the body and left it tucked in an alleyway, to be disposed of later. The only evidence remaining was the blood staining his clothes. If someone saw him walking through town in his disorderly state, that would raise questions; questions that could indirectly put you into harms way. Although this wasn’t ideal, it was the only option. -Besides, he had accidentally missed your date, you were probably worried sick over him.

“Yes of course I’m sorry, please follow me” You stammer out grasping his hand and leading him to the bathroom. You weren’t entirely sure of the nature of his bedraggled state, but you were determined to fix it. You reach under the sink and dig out the first aid kit you kept on hand.

You reach for the bandages and a dampen a small cloth. You press it against his bloodied nose and place a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Are you alright” You ask hesitantly. Your mind burned with questions, what had happened to bring him here in such a state?

“It’s nothing I can’t manage I’m sorry to drag you into this.” He replied, remorse seeping into his tone.

“No it’s alright I’m just glad you’re okay.” You responded as you began to bandage the scuffs on his hands. From his demeanor, you gathered he didn’t really want to talk about this, but you couldn’t help but ask.

“What happened Al?” You questioned. Your shoulders were slumped in his direction while you carefully washed the cuts on his face.

“It’s not important my dear.” He responded with a nonchalant smile.

"Telling my whole life with his words

Killing me softly with his song"

His indifferent attitude did anything but calm you.

“You can’t show up on my doorstep like this, and not expect me to be concerned for you. Please, just tell me what happened love” You begged.

“I had something to take care of. It’s not important” He dismissed you again as you unbuttoned the clasps of his shirt to tend to anything below the surface. Through his bloodied exterior, you couldn’t discern what stemmed from him or another person.

“Clearly-" you huffed. You examined the small contusions that littered his chest. “Please don’t run from me Al” Even though his injuries are less severe than you’d thought your lips contorted into a deep frown. “I’m worried about you.” Your e/c eyes bore into his smooth brown ones.

“I just.. got involved with the wrong person y/n, please save your worries for a worthy cause.” He murmured. He attempted to dissuade your worries with another smile, it only multiplied them.

“We should report this to the police Alastor I don’t care who you got involved with they don’t have a right to leave you like this” You urge, your fingers mindlessly trace the edges of each forming bruise.

“Y/n just drop it.” He finally snapped, his voice is intense and almost feral. His shoulders tense up almost as quickly as they release.

“Please”. He softens, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.

"He sang as if he knew me

In all my dark despair"

1930: New Orleans: Your apartment, six months later

Another pressing knock awakens you from your sleep. You didn’t even have it in you to be upset anymore. It had become habitual, he would show up on your doorstep a little before four in the morning speckled in bright red blood; just as he had done every few weeks for the last six months. It wasn’t worth asking for explanation anymore. He would ramble out the same tepid excuses and unconcerned reassurances.

You opened the door to his typical scarlet splatted clothing. The longer his little escapade expanded, the less injuries he sustained afterwards. It was a double edged sword. You were glad he never walked in branded in bruises or dripping his own blood, but it also made you apprehensive. How was he able to hurt another so easily with no more damage than the occasional scrape on his knuckles? Nothing about the entire affair made sense. You recall the vague details he had mentioned after the first incident. If he truly had been accidentally whisked into the company of the wrong individuals, why didn’t he just leave? He worked in radio, theoretically he could accomplish the same goal in a different location. There wasn’t anything to stop him. You had assured him you would drop everything and go with him if he only asked you to. New Orleans had no reason to hold onto you in his absence. You were a matching set.

With a small kiss between your drowsy eyes, he walked into your bedroom to shed his dirtied clothes. Upon his return, he flitted about your kitchen collecting the necessary materials to make you both a cup of tea. It was routine at this point. Accompanied by the smooth lull of the radio, you would drink your tea and chat. He was never at a loss for words, and you loved to listen. You didn’t really talk about anything meaningful, just whatever happened to cross his mind. You sit curled into his arms tea in hand. You couldn’t help but wonder why this was all happening. You wanted him to open up to you. It didn’t matter what the circumstances were. Maybe if he told you, you could find a way to help him out of this

“Al..why don’t we just leave here? I don’t like that you keep showing up like this. I promise I won’t be upset with whatever details it holds…I just want to know that you’re being safe.” You nestle your head into the crook of his neck, as you speak.

“My dear, we have been over this, it is nothing I can’t handle. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it” He smiles down at you and presses another kiss against your forehead. He admired your care, but he feared your judgement too harshly to admit the true details of his actions.

"And then he looked right through me

As if I wasn't there"

“This is the second time this week Alastor. I’ll support you through anything but I deserve to know the details”. You plead, lifting your head to better observe his features. He looked completely and entirely unbothered.

"And he just kept on singing

Singing clear and strong"

"y/n I'm telling you to drop it" His hand cups your cheek.

"No you don't get to tell me that anymore. I'm concerned for you Alastor.” Your voice gets louder as you pull away from his touch.

"I've told you before darling, you needn't worry" He tucks a stray loc of your hair behind your ear. "I promise I would never hide anything from you for longer than I needed to dear.I will always be truthful with you y/n” He pulls your body back into his lap as he speaks.

“ I just can’t tell you yet… It wouldn’t be right to involve you in this.” His voice is indistinct and distant, as his arms wrap around you into a tight hug.

“ I can’t risk you getting hurt, You are my perfection dear”

Your heart falls from your recollection as your body finally drops to the from the spinning pole. Alastor didn't end up keeping his promise of eventually veracity. How many other things did he simply “not tell you yet”.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words"

You were convenient and gullible, you had loved him too much to even consider that he might have been hurting others and not a victim himself . You lived in the middle of the city, giving him a central location to act from. He hadn’t lied when he said you were perfect.

"Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song"

It was much deeper than you previously thought. You weren’t just someone he kept around for the occasional favor or entertainment. It was deeper than that. The bloodied clothes and unexplained absences finally made sense. He would’ve needed to harm a lot of people to hold such an astute amount of power upon his arrival in hell. You were the unknown tool that helped him reach that status.

"Telling my whole life with his words"

No wonder you ended up in hell. Any sinful actions you may have taken or blood on your hands was nothing in comparison to the amount he spilled with your help. You were nothing more than an accessory to his crimes. You had wasted your life on counterfeit kisses and meaningless utterances of love. You had wasted your afterlife believing they held some merit.

"Killing me softly with his song"

He didn’t come for you because he didn’t need anything from you. He never actually loved you enough to search for you beyond that.

The music crescendos into its final note. You take a slight bow as the crowd exploded into a sea of cheers.

“Thank you for being such a darling audience, I’ll be out to speak with you soon” you announce as you blow a kiss in their direction. Val would have to be mad later. You needed to get out of there

As soon you walked off stage, the lively armor of your theatrical persona was thrown aside, leaving nothing to guard your wounded heart. You stumble down the hall towards your dressing room ,a freshly opened bottle of wine in tow. You wanted nothing more than a moment of clear unfeeling peace. Valentino preferred you to mingle after a performance, but you needed to collect yourself and dampen your anger before you had to speak with your untamable fans. Alastor’s appearance had shaken you to your core in ways you weren’t prepared to confront. You didn’t have time to accurately process those emotions so you would settle for a second alone to compartmentalize. By the time you reach the dressing room’s door, the bottle in your hand is nearly empty. You turn the knob to reveal to a vase of crimson roses reflected in your mirror and the shadow of his antlers on your face.

“Why are you here.” You asked pointedly. Your voice held the typical icey air of a frigid hellish morning. You had no intention of letting him stay long enough to propose whatever twisted favor had brought him back to your door.

“It was you that contacted me dearest” He ignored the frostbite forming on his finger tips from your cold shoulder- His frankly untrue statement struck more than a few of your nerves.

“If I had, don’t you think I would have done it sooner?” You seethed with aggravation. Alastor hadn’t a clue as to why you were so cross with him. Perhaps guilt motivated your responses and he was simply caught in the overtly anguished crossfire. You had always been slightly oversensitive to your effect on him- maybe that was it?

“Now my dear you haven’t been in hell very long, you mustn’t blame yourself for needing a bit of extra time to understand your skillset. I was pleasantly surprised to hear your sweet voice interrupt my usual broadcast- Although, I must say I wasn’t aware you were so interested in continuing show business after death. Had you asked before finding your own way, I could have connected you with a classier establishment"

“A bit of extra time is the understatement of the hour” you huff under your breath.

“Most demons take weeks to learn control, you on the other hand managed to do so in a couple of days you really should be proud” He sent you a reassuring smile.

You laugh dryly, confusion overtakes his features and seeps into his smile.

“Oh sure you’re absolutely right! I should be proud it only took a day or so- give or take a few years” The sarcasm radiating from your response would have slit the throat of a lesser demon. This confused Alastor even further.

“y/n, how long have you been in hell.”Bewilderment etches across his lips, he had never considered the possibility you weren’t another new arrival before then.

“Ten years, eleven next week.” you admit. His eyes grow wide in remorse.

“Dear I am so very sorry I didn’t find you sooner. Between your anonymity and my little leave of absence, we must have just missed each other. I assure you had I known you were here I would have been chasing at your heels.” Despite his deeply genuine intentions, you perceived his words as nothing more than another manipulative tactic to persuade you into whatever twisted plan he had in store.

“Please- Al, you can cut the act already. To be entirely frank, I don’t need any more of your sweetly worded lies, I know who you’ve always really been now. I’m telling you it’s not going to work anymore- I’m not that stupid.” Your retort was accompanied by the roll of his eyes.

“You left me without a care in the world, and with a child for that matter. It stands to reason your sentiment wouldn’t change, even in hell. I don’t care for whatever old favor you’re trying to call in. I’m not helping you.” Even across the room, the edges of his raven tipped hair practically singed at the weight of your words. For the first time in his hellish existence, his everlasting smile dropped. He didn’t know he was a father. He had died before you had chance to tell him.

“ We had a child?” His voice is weak and raw, entirely devoid of its usual crackle. His eyes hold a deep sadness you had only ever seen in your own reflection. Your posture visibly softens at his sorrowful reaction. The realization hit you: He never got to meet his son. At least you were granted a moment with your baby swaddled in your arms. Alastor hadn't been so lucky.

“ Yes.. his name is Eugene. He turned 50 last year...He was such a beautiful baby. He had your brown eyes and curly hair. I swear I could almost hear you in his laughter.” The corners of your mouth begin to peak up in response to the remembrance. Despite the short time he had been a part of your life, Eugene was everything you lived for. You endured every sleazy comment and blood splattered old fashioned in the hopes you could see him again. You even went as far to marry the bar’s immoral owner. You suffered a lifetime of abuse and the plight of that man's own children on the half hearted promise you might have been able to regain custody in your newfound stability.

“Did he live a good life?” He was overtaken with dream-like sun spotted snapshots of you and his son. The hypothetical moments alleviated his guilt slightly. At least in his absence you weren’t entirely alone. Alastor's legs carried him to your side. He wanted nothing more than to wipe the melancholy from your face and offer you comfort. His hand gently outstretched to your shoulder. The silence that overtook the room was hinted in comfort instead of animosity.

“ Yes..he did" you finally respond.

Your mind wanders to the flower shop he owned downtown and its painted green exterior. The lavender cursive of the sign above it read "Eugene's Fanciful Flowers". He was a complete and total dork, just like his father. The older you got, the more you found yourself walking past it. He had sent you a bouquet of daffodils once. You kept them in the vase next to your bed long after they had begun to wilt and shrivel. You weren't sure how he knew of your existence or even where you lived. He was only 18 months old the last time you had held him in your arms. You weren't really his mother, just a circumstance of his birth. You never had the chance to watch him grow.

"I just never got to see it” You snap out of your memory inspired daze.

He never got to meet his son because he chose not to. Any remorse you felt was quickly scrapped from your system. You could have watched your son’s mind grow and learned the nuances of his little voice if Alastor had just stayed. That’s all he had to do. You didn’t care if your eventual marriage with him would have crumbled in the process. For all you cared, he could continue his distant nature and whatever wicked deeds he pleased, just as long as he stayed…He made his choice to walk that crestfallen path alone, separating you from him and your son in the process. You shrugged off his soothing hand and turned away, effectively burning a fire flecked wall between the two of you.

“I had to give him up. The radio show shut down in your absence. I couldn’t support the both of us with what little I made at the bar.” Bitterness seeps into your previously softened voice. You weren’t going to allow yourself to be manipulated by his falsified concern. The mirage of imagined moments you had collected of your son over the years flashed through your mind all at once. You were devastated by the memories you didn’t get the chance to make.

“Y/n.. I am so sorry.” He is nearly frozen in place, shocked by the sudden shift in your demeanor. If you weren’t so angry, the pathetic broken string of words would have shattered your desolate heart.

“ You can stop pretend to care Alastor. You had no issue leaving us then- What do you really want from me? Just get it over with so I can go back to forgetting you exist.” The short horns peaking out from your hair nearly doubled in size. You were growing frustrated with his half assed excuses and blatant lies. In that moment, you didn’t care if he disappeared entirely. The deserted lovesick island you had so often found yourself stuck on burned to the ground in the back of your mind.

“Why would I, an overlord, want something from a weaker demon such as yourself. I don’t know who placed that foolish notion into your head, but I assure you, I don’t want anything from you” Anguish accented the pungent inflection of each word. Alastor was growing tired with your antics he didn’t want anything from you other than your forgiveness. He had apologized for the first time in decades, and meant it. Why couldn’t you just accept that? Your resentful resolve exasperated him to no end.

“ I just wanted to see you again, I thought you might like the same, evidently I was wrong.” His typical smile pressed into an uncharacteristic sharp line.

“Will you please just stop?” Your voice raised far more than a few decibels. He couldn’t take the hint, and you were not sober enough to keep reiterating it.

“Darling it has been agony sitting around waiting for you here, only to find out you’re cavorting around with Valentino. Leaving you wasn’t my fault, you can’t blame me for something I didn’t wish to do. As much as I wish to I can’t control my circumstances. I’ve already apologized I don’t know what else you want me to do." He would gladly do anything you asked to mend the bridges you had set ablaze in your unreasonable fury. He hadn’t meant to die, it just sort of happened. Were you really blame him for his untimely demise?

“Didn’t wish to do? How stupid do you think I am?” You scoffed.

“The only thing I want you to do is leave.” Your voice wavered but the sentiment was strong. He could almost see the fighting spirit that traced your form. Alastor couldn’t help but laugh. He had done nothing but answer your call, and you had the audacity to reject his answer. If you wanted to fight, he would fight with you. If nothing else, it kept you talking to him.

“Naturally, because you are just so much happier leashed to Valentino and spinning around that pole” He taunted, his scornful sneer seeping into his cadence.

"Believe me I'd rather be anywhere else-" You snapped. He had added fuel to the fire and the weight of its introduction flooded you with spite.

“Don’t pretend that you’re any different from him Alastor. You are two sides of the same coin- except unlike you, Valentino actually owns my soul. I have to put up with this shit from him. I’m under no obligation to take it from you. I am not a toy for you to pick up and put down whenever you need something to play with- I’m not some tool for you to use whenever decide you need a favor.”

You didn’t really believe the words coming from you, you just wanted to hurt him the way he hurt you. Evidently it worked a little better than you anticipated. His eyes contorted into the shape of radio dials, the static erupting from his core in tandem. His height over you nearly tripled, as the horns on his head wept out jet black roots that stretched into the ceiling. His voice distorts into a vicious growl.

“You don’t get to stand here and pretend that I am entirely to blame. It isn’t my fault your life went so poorly. Let’s think reasonably for a moment, provided you haven’t completely lost it. You could have made any number of different choices, but you went with the easiest option, just as you always have. As for your current situation, you did the same. Although I regret not finding you sooner, you clearly had the ability to reach out if you truly needed something. You don’t get to blame me because you finally started to regret your careless mistakes. You have no right to be angry with me for your own choices. Look at how pathetic you’ve become y/n.” He grasps your chin, tilting it to meet your eyes in the mirror.

“I don’t know how I ever managed to love someone stupid enough to waste their soul on nothing more cheap liquor and lust rolled cigarettes.”

The radio static that had permeated the room just seconds before fizzled out leaving you alone in the silent pit. His antlers returned to their normal size as he observed the void that replaced your sparkling eyes. As soon as he saw the tears welling up within you, he realized what he had said.

In actuality, he didn’t mean a word of it. In his time in hell, he had grown too accustomed to uncovering the insecurity of his opponents. In that moment, he had forgotten you really weren’t one.

He didn’t truly blame you for anything that had happened. How could he? He knew he was mostly at fault for the more unfortunate aspects of your life. His heart incessantly throbbed with guilt just thinking of what you must have gone through. He hadn’t known what he left you with in such an unforgiving world. If he had, he would have found some way to pluck the bullet from his skull and return home to you.

As for the quality of your after-life, he knew the blame belonged entirely to Valentino. You had always been strong, but you had never been cruel. To survive in this hellish landscape, you had to be on some level. You probably would have ended up just another lifeless body bloodying up the street if you hadn’t taken the offer. Valentino had taken advantage of that, and Alastor hadn't been there to help you find another solution. Even if you didn’t want his help, he would never forgive himself if he didn’t find a way to break the deal you had made.

“Get out.” You didn’t have enough strength for anything more than a whisper.

His eyes bore into yours as a single tear slipped down your face. He hadn’t noticed the deep scratches that decorated your cheeks or the dark purple bruises that formed under your contour until that moment. They had been hastily covered in concealer and he hadn’t been close enough to notice the jagged indentations until then. The ears perched atop his head began to twitch as his mind sparked with an entirely different form of rage...As soon as he figured out what twisted soul had dared to lay a hand on you, all of hell would hear their screams.

His grasp on your chin softens as he traced the edge of each scratch with his free hand.

“Who did this to you”

“Get out.” You tear your face from his hold.

“No I’m not leaving you here” he stated, the desperation of his tone rimmed the edges his lanky frame. He took a step towards you and you took a step away.

“Get the fuck out Alastor. Now.” Your eyes began to glow a familiar pink.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean t-“

“Just go” you cut him off before he has the chance to put a word in edgewise. You had been through enough. You didn’t need his excuses to confuse you more. Your eyes squeeze shut as the objects in the room began to float. All you wanted was for him to go away.

“I won’t leave you again” He stood his ground.

“Leave me alone” You were practically screaming at this point. If he couldn’t listen to your request, you would just have to be louder to make him listen. Your voice reverberates throughout the room, effectively shattering both the light bulbs surrounding your mirror and the mirror itself. The residual glass scattered through the space and into your hair.

To your surprise, he doesn't respond. The remaining floating objects fall to the ground in a piercing clatter. Your eyes shoot open at the sudden noise.

Other than the abundant mess, there was no trace he had ever been there to begin with. Even the roses he had brought for you had dissipated. You stood alone in the glass covered room, thankful he had taken his leave. The swirling overload of emotion made you feel ill. You replayed the conversation a few times in your head, each replay inspired a deeper feeling of regret and a plethora of questions you no longer had the opportunity to ask.

A/N:

Hey yall thank you sm for the support I adore each and every one of you!!

Also a note about the content revolving around abusive relationships: This is going to be a bit long winded but I feel it's important to be said. The content in this chapter as well as chapter 2 features some pretty awful depictions of abuse. I want to check in and make sure that this isn't coming off as an overly done cliche or a cheap plot device to further the story. In no way is that my intention. I know that I am a very small writing page but it's important to me that I dont accidentally wind down the same path a lot of larger entertainment companies follow. I've drawn from the experiences of my friends who have gone through similar things as well as my own to try and prevent that. However I am also aware my writing style is a bit..dramatic? If you find that it is coming across negatively, and if you feel comfortable, don't hesitate to message me normally or anonymously. I will gladly listen to anything you have to say!!

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #valentino being a nasty fucker #Alastor really just can't communicate well and you are lowkey stupid #like ok ms girl jump to conclusions #tbh if i was her id give him a lap dance and forget everything #why am i like this #valentino #...can die #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #you best believe the shitty song fic titles are coming back next chapter #omg theyre back!#i was high off my ass writingn this so no guarantee its good.

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green-eyedfirework · 7 days

Text

Dick’s hands didn’t tremble as he slipped off the rings on his fingers. Dick’s hands had stopped trembling days ago, when Ra’s had strolled through their keep’s gates like the place belonged to him, and Dick hadn’t been able to stop him from seizing control.

From taking guardianship of Damian. From stealing Tim’s letters. From sending a small army to hunt for Jason and his outlaws.

From marrying Dick off to a warlord from the plains—a personal favor, Ra’s had called it, and Dick knew that anyone who won favors from the likes of Ra’s al Ghul was not someone he wanted to marry or mate.

His first impression of Slade Wilson did nothing to change that.

The man was a head and a half taller than Dick, broad and muscled—a warrior born and bred, and Dick had never been raised as some fainting, delicate omega in a tower, but he’d almost shivered and stepped back when Slade had dismounted from his great stallion in the middle of the courtyard.

He was older than Dick, much older—he had three kids from his first marriage, the eldest Damian’s age, and Dick didn’t dare ask what happened to his mate—and had only one eye, and moved like he was the most dangerous thing in any given space and the world knew it too. Dick had gone still whenever Slade passed close to him, like a rabbit freezing in the hopes that the predator would ignore it.

Like now.

“Leave it,” came the gruff voice, when Dick moved to slide off the arm bracers. “It suits you.”

Dick left the arm bracers on. Dick did not meet his new husband’s eyes as he worked on the catches of the other jewelry. The last was the heavy, symbolic choker tight around his neck.

He remembered Bruce showing it to him once, when he’d been years younger, and promising that Dick would get to wear it for his wedding. That he would get to take it off to bare his neck for the person he’d chosen to be his mate.

Dick carefully placed his grandmother’s collar on the table, and did not cry.

His hands moved up, to the flowers and woven braids stylized like a crown in his short hair, but his husband tsked again. “You’ll ruin it,” he said, a callused thumb brushing along Dick’s hairline. “It looks like it took a lot of work.”

It did. Dick remembered the hollow blankness inside of him as he was prepared for the wedding by Ra’s al Ghul’s maids, as he was led out by Ra’s al Ghul’s nobles, as he was escorted up the aisle by the evil scheming snake and not his father.

Because Bruce was dead, and his whole world had fallen apart because of it.

Dick left the hair, not making a single comment about how the pins were already starting to give him a headache, and stood, bracing himself against the dresser for a moment to make sure that his knees would hold him. There was no use stalling or delaying—Dick’s heart was already in his throat, and all waiting would do was make the panic climb higher.

Slade was so close behind him that Dick could feel his presence as a tangible prickle down his spine, but he ignored it, and began working at the knots in the silks. It would be a shame to ruin the finery for a wedding he’d been threatened into.

The memory of Ra’s al Ghul’s satisfied smirk as Dick said the vows to seal his fate was seared into his mind.

Some of the knots were in awkward places, and the third time a knot slipped out of his numb fingers, Slade spoke up again. “Would you like me to help?” he asked. Like it was a choice.

Well, Dick supposed it was. The same way the demands Ra’s gave had been choices. Submit gracefully. Or suffer, along with everyone he loved.

Dick turned to give Slade easier access to the laces down his sides.

His husband was efficient, pulling each knot free quickly, his fingers leaving scorching trails of fire wherever they brushed against Dick’s skin, even through the layers of silks. Dick didn’t bother holding the outer layer up, and let it slip down, knot by knot, freed laces by freed laces, until Slade was done and it slid down to pool around his feet.

Dick stepped out of it. The second layer was easier to pull off, until Dick was left in what could charitably be called a shift, because omegas didn’t wear full shifts under their wedding wear, because after the wedding came the mating and Dick was standing in a piece of cloth that covered next to nothing but that the maids swore would be enticing.

Dick didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to see if his husband was enticed.

But if he didn’t turn around, Slade would grab his elbow and yank, and the longer Dick obeyed, the longer Slade would be…gentle, almost, his grip light and firm instead of hard and squeezing, voice level instead of harsh, treating him like a wife and not a hostage. Since Dick had to spend the rest of his life with him, he should enjoy the gentleness where he got it.

If Slade was a friend of Ra’s al Ghul, then Dick knew that the man was cruel. But he hadn’t seen it, not once since he gave his hand and said the words, and if the alpha was that good at hiding it, it was possible that a subservient omega was what the warlord wanted.

Either that, or he wanted to enjoy Dick for a bit before trying to make him break.

It didn’t matter. There was no way out of this. Even if Dick managed to overpower Slade and get out of the room, he had no friends left in Gotham. If Dick managed to flee, Ra’s would take it out on everyone who was left behind. He’d execute Jason after he caught the outlaws, and he’d chain Tim after his little brother got back from his fool’s quest, and he’d force Damian through the harsh training that the boy had endured for too much of his childhood, and Dick could not let that happen.

Whatever Slade wanted, he would suffer. For his brothers. For the only family he had left.

Dick turned around, his gaze fixed at his husband’s collarbone. Slade had taken his shirt off, and scars crisscrossed corded muscle, speaking to a life lived on a constant battlefield. “Beautiful,” his husband said in a low murmur, and a hand on his cheek forced his head up.

Lips sealed on his, and Dick let them plunder his mouth, let them take as an arm wrapped around his back, his shift riding up till it was concealing nothing at all, eyes closed and prickling hot and he would not cry.

Dick had to gasp when Slade pulled back, breathless and panting, and Slade’s gaze darkened further, satisfaction clear in his icy blue eye. He nudged Dick back towards the bed, nodding, “Go on.”

Dick stepped back, bare feet against the rugs, until he felt the edge of the bed hit his thighs. At Slade’s expectant look, he boosted himself up, crawling backwards until he was in the center of the bed, watching Slade’s expression sharpen into desire.

At least this wasn’t his room. Or Bruce’s. Dick couldn’t bear to have his last memory of his father’s room be the bed he was raped on.

Slade stalked forward like a wolf, and Dick’s first reaction was to flee. Suppressing that instinct left little room for anything else, and Dick stayed stuck, half up on his elbows, as Slade reached the edge of the bed.

“No room for me?” Slade asked, almost amused, and Dick realized that his thighs were firmly pressed together.

He let his knees fall open, sinking back against the bed, trying not to think about the fact that he was completely bared, and clutched desperately at the haze to surround himself with.

Light, open-mouthed kisses against his ankles, rising up his calves, and Dick fell deeper, deeper, deeper. If Slade was proportionate all the way—it would hurt. It would hurt a lot, and badly, and teasing nips to the inside of his thighs wouldn’t change that. Even if Slade wasn’t proportionate, it would hurt, Dick wasn’t in heat and he knew that several alphas didn’t believe in lube or prep, that omegas’ bodies were built to take them so it would be fine.

He had to cocoon himself in not-feeling, or he’d scream, or cry, or—or beg, and he couldn’t do that.

He was scared.

He wanted his dad.

The kisses had stopped. Dick forced himself to detach further from his body, but halted when he heard his name, sounding like it was coming from far away. “Dick?”

“Yes?” Dick responded, a breathy even to his own ears.

“…Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Dick said. Or maybe slurred. Everything felt a little floaty.

“You don’t sound fine,” the voice informed him. “Can you sit up?”

It took Dick a moment to figure out how his arms worked, but he pushed up. Slade was kneeling between his spread legs, expression no longer warm and desire-heavy, but closed and analytical.

“Are you okay?” Slade asked again.

“I’m fine,” Dick repeated, and this time his voice sounded hollow instead of floaty. There was a curl of dread deep inside of him—apparently Slade wanted him present—and Dick mentally bid adieu to the haze as he forced himself back to reality.

He realized he was shaking, minute tremors wracking his body, and Slade’s eyebrows were pinching even further. “You’re trembling,” Slade pointed out.

Dick wasn’t sure if he could stop. “Just—just a little nervous,” he answered, trying not to stutter. The bashful, blushing bride was still a thing, right? Slade wasn’t—wasn’t expecting him to be experienced and—and participating, was he? “And it’s a little—cold,” Dick added, to cover all his bases.

Hopefully Slade would decide to warm him up and they could get this over with.

Slade reached to the side of the bed, tugging one of the blankets free and—and wrapping it around Dick’s shoulders, practically swaddling him in the material. Dick blinked.

“You said you were cold,” Slade said levelly, shifting back and studying Dick with that scrutinizing expression again. Dick allowed himself to clutch the blanket, and wondered what the hell this was supposed to be.

“You don’t want this,” Slade said after a stretching silence, and Dick froze.

How the fuck was he supposed to respond to that? Agree? Disagree? Convince Slade that he was wrong? He felt like he was standing in a trap but he didn’t know where it would spring from.

“You’re not nervous,” Slade said, voice tight. “You’re terrified.”

#my snippets #sladick #royalty au #omegaverse #forced marriage

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itztim3todi3 · 2 years

Note

Just imagine twisted wonderland dorm leaders walking on male reader wearing their dorm uniform. Them blushing because reader looks so good in it. It would be sooo cutee😩😍

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴏʟ ᴜɴɪғᴏʀᴍ

We love some flustered dorm leader

Requests | Open (read rules on pinned first)

Fandom(s) | Twisted Wonderland

Platonic or Romantic? | Romantic

Riddle Rosehearts

hes a blushing red strawberry

hes got steam coming up from his head and just

malfunctioning, he's trying not to pass out so he turns around instantly and just

walks away like a robot

the first years are questioning him but gets no answers

he's jsut

trying to process what he just saw

he gets red whenever he remembers it lol

you looked so cute and he cant help it

Leona Kingscholar

he kinda just stands there for a while before he starts to feel warm

he walks right in, compliments you, and just drags you to bed

yes you're adorable yes you're cute but you can't be doing this to him

he's getting 'old' and he doesn't want to have a heart attack anytime soon

but it seems you might give him one

he was surprised but he tries to nap it off

obviously its leona we're talking about

Azul Ashengrotto

strawberry 2.0

hes shocked hes sorta confused and then he's screeching while covering his face

he wants to hide away in his octopot

he wants to disappear

omg did he just make that noise?

he starts to ramble a lot about anything and everything

he wasn't to compliment you but he just cant

he's going to be red for a while he's jsut

aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAA-

Kalim Al-Asim

hes squealing hes spewing compliments like a fountain he's hugging you he's doing everything he can

he thinks you look absolutely ADORABLE

he's getting another one so you two cant match! Hes going to be showing you off he's taking pics he's letting you switch uniforms for the day

he's jsut

so happy and basically shining like the sun

it blinds me how bright he is

idk how that's even possible but he's done it

he's sun 2.0

Vil Schoenheit

hes just surprised

like ofc you look cute why would you

but this

oh this surprised him so much, he didn't expect you do dress up in his uniform

he's complimenting you and saying how you could let him do your makeup/hair

he wants to have a little dress up party with you

you're his model now, not like you weren't before, but he likes to use you instead of other people yk?

Idia Shroud

strawberry 3.0

hes red his hair is up and a bright red he's stuttering hes-oh he's passed out

you might want to get out of that uniform so he doesn't pass out again when he wakes up

you're too adorable for him and he's genuinely confused on how he got you

he's this lowlife scum (not but whatever) and you're this god that pleased him with your presence

he's going to be red for a few days-weeks? for a long time lol

Malleus Draconia

hes smiling hes a little red hes confused about this feeling yet not?

he's just :)

happy he's happy is what he concludes

he finds you adorable and says it

he says whatever is on his mind, he says you're cute, you're adorable your handsome etc etc

he asks if you want to have a uniform that looks like his made for you

hell get you one if you want

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siphoklansan · 12 days

Note

HEYHEY SIPPY!!! For the ask game, I hope you don't mind me asking for... kind of a lot because I'm really curious jskdkfs but you can cut some out if want to, dw!

🌹♥️♠️⚗️📚🏆 for Siphok and 🌟🤖 for Pin-cha?

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS ᝰ.ᐟ

sippy and riddle are friends! both of them have one thing in common: a stickler for rules. the only difference is that sippy doesn’t follow crazy rules (ex. heartslabyul’s strange traditions!)

fun fact: they both hated each other before the end of book 1 because:

⤷ sippy likes to voice out her opinions, so she gets into a yelling match from time to time with riddle when she disagrees with his behavior. ( “IT’S JUST A TART, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!” 💀 /j but yeah something like that-)

⤷ riddle hates how she doesn’t give two shits about his rule. ( “Nuh-uh.” “What do you mean “Nuh-Uh” ?!?”) and she also defends adeuce when they break the rules, much to their surprise.

at the end of book 1 they both had a truce and became some sort of buddies to each other! they both share an interest in small critters <3

ACE TRAPPOLA & DEUCE SPADE ᝰ.ᐟ

besties for life (adeuce will not admit it) they always go everywhere with each other and grim!

sippy is #1 deuce defender because she kins him😭 so ace rarely wins and argument when she’s around. sippy tutors deuce for history class (more on this later!) and deuce returns the favor by helping her fix things around ramshackle <3

like deuce, sippy bickers a lot with ace but it’s all fun and games. she’s like a tired mom with him (begrudgingly watches his basketball matches because ace insists on it so much, secretly doesn’t mind and enjoys it lmao-). I lowkey see ace as a therapist friend for some reason since he’s usually the voice of reason so she goes to him for advice sometimes! Only for certain occasions though cuz we know how ace is💀 /hj

DIVUS CREWEL ᝰ.ᐟ

#1 dad for sippy. they both go on shopping sprees together (crewel insists on it, because sippy wears the same outfit everyday and it irks him 💀). sippy isn’t the best at potions class so he tutors her privately at times!

crewel designs outfits for sippy sometimes! in the ghost bride event, her suit was tailored to her by crewel.

a short angst scenario for them would be sippy feels bad to see him as a dad because she doesn’t know if crewel sees her as a daughter but he actually feels the same😔.

other than that, sippy got a little more strict because she picked up some habits from crewel (much to adeuce’s dismay😭).

MOZUS TREIN (doesn’t look like him, i know) ᝰ.ᐟ

that one proud grand-uncle (?) TM /j

sippy is likes history classes, so it’s like a breath of fresh air for him in class (“Finally, someone who does not snore every 2 minutes.” /j)

not much to comment on them, but one thing trein dislikes about sippy is that she covers for students who are slacking off in class ( ex. covering grim’s sleeping form with a book) and he’s just like -_- but trein counters that by deducting both her and the other student (who’s mostly grim) participation points💀

ASHTON VARGAS ᝰ.ᐟ

that one crazy and upbeat uncle at family gatherings TM 💀 /j

while sippy is good in athletics, she doesn’t do very well in flying due to a small fear of heights.

⤷ “THE BROOM IS TOO THIN IT CAN’T CARRY MY FATASS!” “LANGUAGE! But no, it *can* hold your weight.”

sippy dreads vargas’s class because he pushes her more than anyone else.

⤷ “lift some more weights! your arms are like noodles!” vargas says, as he dumps some more shit into her arms-

KALIM AL ASIM ᝰ.ᐟ

pin-cha and kalim is like the worst nightmare for jamil, who’s already acting like a single mom who works two jobs who loves her kids and never stops-

yes, they go on carpet rides together🥺💓 pin-cha reminds kalim of one of his siblings back at home so they hit it off pretty well!

jamil is a little weirded out how well pin-cha is good at household chores but is also secretly relieved (and concerned) how pin-cha is babysitting kalim and not the other way around /hj

CHEKA KINGSCHOLAR ᝰ.ᐟ (NOT A SHIP ART!!)

RRAAAGHSGSHHSHGSHSG FINALLY SOMEONE MENTIONS CHEKAAAAA!! THEY’RE BESTFRIENDS, YOUR HONOR😭✨

cue leona thanking the gods for giving cheka someone to play with so he can finally nap in peace LMAO

cheka drags pin-cha away from his cleaning duties in rsa! the headmage of rsa adores them both (happy grandpa noises) <3

cheka enjoys when pin-cha shows his unique magic, summoning little spirits around to play with them. it’s like having extra friends to play!

yes, they both call leona “unca”💀 leona had to call sippy over to help him babysit them both (an excuse to be with her I MEAN WHAAATTT⁉️ I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING-)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK, TARU!!💖💖 SO SORRY FOR THE LATE AND VERY LONG REPLY😭🙏 I had a lot of fun with this ask though I can’t find the link to the OG post anymore :((

I swear this whole post looks like some character who is liked by everybody but I promise you it’s not the case😭 she just has a good impression on the professors AHUSHSUGSYSI BUT ANYWAY I’ll list some characters who doesn’t like sippy (but i’ll leave the reasoning out for now👀)

⤷ ruggie

⤷ sebek

⤷ idia

⤷ jamil (kinda like a hate-neutral relationship?)

With that said, thank you again for the ask!!🥺💖🫶🫶

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arkhammaid · 1 year

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ REUNION AND REINTEGRATION.

fandom. honkai star rail

pairing. jing yuan x fem!reader

content warnings. fluff & nsfw, MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, heavily inspired by this fanart, general!jing yuan coming home from war, husband!jing yuan, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, jing yuan calls you petnames (rose, wife, etc.), not edited/proofread

word count. 1.6k

notes. the moment i saw this art, i went feral and knew i had to write smth... i didn't think it would take me so long, very sorry about that ;-; if the ending is a bit choppy, no it's not!! (i couldn't give it a proper ending without banging my head against the table, pls don't hate me for that aisudhfisdh)

It’s already past midnight, when you hear how someone enters the Estate, lightning up the long hallway. You rise from the sofa, book abandoned, while you pull the light blanket over your shoulders.

Your naked feet leave no sound as you walk towards the light, towards the man who finally came home. He greets you with a soft but tired smile, uniform still pristine and the massive coat protecting the white cloth from any dirt.

“General,” you greet him with a teasing smile, leaning on the doorway while you watch how he slips out of his black boots, made out of the finest leather— as a man of his rank deserves.

“Wife,” he greets you back, the grumbling voice making you pleasantly shudder. He smirks at your reaction, of course he does, eyes lightening up and brightening the whole face of this beautiful man. The man who is yours, General Jing Yuan, your husband returning to your waiting arms.

“Let me,” you ask, stepping near to take off his heavy coat, rimmed with black fur and decorating stitches on the back. Once you’ve taken it from his shoulders, his uniform is revealed to you, the very uniform you’ve clothed him in when he left you to go to war.

All his badges and cords are on their right place, setting an example of what a commander should look like, and yet he doesn’t utter a single word of complaint when you gesture him to follow you to your bedroom, where you would remove them piece by piece.

His uniform is his armor, shielding his mind and heart from death and misery, and once he’s finally home, he can shed said armor, revealing vulnerable skin and muscle. He only does this at home, the safest place he knows, because you’re here, waiting for him to return.

With keen eyes he follows how you move around in the bedroom, carry over the coffer which usually holds all of his military badges and start to take them off with the utmost care. You do your duty silently but gladly, your heart filled with happiness now that your husband is finally back home. And Jing Yuan watches you with a smile on his face, his tensing shoulders slowly slacking and lowering the longer you’re near him.

The soft smell of roses clings onto your hair, freshly washed and still a bit damp. Your skin seems to glow beneath the creams and serums you always put on, while the rest of your body is hidden behind your nightgown and the thin blanket that still clings onto your shoulders.

You just pinned the last badge in the cushion of the coffer, when suddenly Jing Yuan takes your face in his hands, still in the fiery red gloves, to draw you close. Your breath hitches and you have to climb on his lap, hold yourself on his strong arms to find your balance. He doesn’t care, nuzzling you and peppering you with featherlight kisses, murmuring how much he missed you.

“My sweet, beautiful rose,” he murmurs close to your right ear, immediately dipping his head to claim your neck with his lips, teeth gently scraping over your skin while you shudder in his arms.

“Do you know how much I love you?,” Jing Yuan asks you, only to press his lips onto yours, gentle and sweet, while pulling you closer. You try to protest, still mindful of what he wears— you didn’t want to have to wash his uniform simply because the two of you were not careful enough.

“Jing Yuan,” you whisper against his lips, eyes already lidded while you lean onto his touch. “Your uniform–,” you try, only for him to shush you with a forceful kiss. It makes your mind spin, to suddenly have him so close again, so close and so much of him, his scent and his body enclosing yours.

“As if my uniform is more important to you than your husband,” he teases you, fully knowing how you would flush at the needled teasing, eyes wide and oh so pleading. “Don’t mind me, dear, I shall help you to take my uniform off. Four hands are faster than two.”

And so you slid from his lap, lips red and hands trembling when you stand again, your husband following your action. A sly smirk is on his face when you start to remove the golden cords, start to unclasp his decorative belt, as well his sword belt. With a shaky exhale you also open his garter belt, his thigh muscles hard beneath your warm hands— oh how you wanted to ravish him, tumble into the marriage bed as you’ve done many times. You wanted to kiss and mark him, cling onto him while ruining his oh so perfect hair, all while he would pound into you and make you scream—

A chuckle rips you out of your thoughts and you immediately duck your head, but it has no use. Jing Yuan can only guess what filthy thoughts just crossed your mind and by that growing tent in his white pants, he approves. Your fingers skim over it, light and teasing, and the way he buckles his hips closer to you— a gasp leaves your mouth when he lifts you suddenly and almost throws you on the bed, patience running thin the way he shrugs off his pants, no longer caring for his uniform.

The upper part of the pristine white clothing follows, the metal, worked into the cloth, clanking on the floor the moment he drops it. He kneels on the bed, his thigh muscles clenching and it leaves you thirsty. The way he moves, almost prowles, dangerous and seductive, a predator on his hunt.

His undershirt follows, you’re pretty sure there is some ripping but you no longer focus on the clothes— no, now you only focus on him, muscles taunt, eyes glinting, his whole focus on you.

Almost subconsciously you crawl to your usual place, in the middle of the giant bed, amidst a massive amount of pillows. You start to shrug off your nightgown, the thin blanket long forgotten on the floor, while Jing Yuan frees himself of his last restrictions. He helps you in the end, truly ripping the sheer cloth of your nightgown, making you shudder beneath him.

“Hello, wife,” he greets you, once you're naked just as he is, his breath brushing over your stomach up towards your breasts, a breathless moan escaping your lips when his hands follow. You mumble a greeting back, feeling shy thanks to his intense stare, but he doesn’t mind.

Not when you’re here, beneath him, naked and ready to be ravished.

Oh, you are, readily spreading your legs, parting them to give way to him. You’re already wet for him, folds glistening as he brushes his fingers against your clit. Leaning back, you watch how Jing Yuan continues, slowly dipping the tip of his finger in your cunt, leaving you wanting. He knows what you want, try to urge him closer, but he only hums and leans his head on your thigh. With unblinking eyes he stares at you, the intense gaze making you blush.

“You’re so beautiful, do you know that? Beautiful and mine,” he murmurs and then presses a kiss on your skin, hands cupping the back of your knees. Peppering more kisses on your skin, closer and closer—

And when he finally licks a board stripe between your legs, you try to hold back the moan, only to fail when he gently sucks at your clit.

With your head thrown back and hands in his hair, Jing Yuan ravishes you, slurping you up while keeping your legs wide open. He has always been talented with his tongue, but today you’re especially sensitive, having been separated for far too long. It makes you cum faster than you wished, the orgasm knocking the air out of your lungs and your thighs shudder.

His kiss brings you back to your senses, his warm body shielding yours, hands wandering and circling across your skin. Long ago you’ve lost your embarrassment when he kisses you with that tangy taste on his lips, only moaning when he pries your own open with his tongue. A choked whine leaves your lips when two of his fingers finally slip into you, preparing you for his cock.

And when he finally does, hips draw to yours, filling you, making you choke on nothing, you cry out. Tears gather in your eyes, overwhelmed with Jing Yuan being finally in you again, overwhelmed with all the attention and loves he gives you— simply overwhelmed.

Clinging onto him, you gasp and moan, scream his name, while his hips work against yours, his strong thighs holding his body up and preventing you from being crushed. Being in his embrace fulfills you, makes your daydreams come true once again, and you let him know.

The moans, the gasps, the screams, it makes Jing Yuan shudder in your arms, greedy lips taking any skin you’re offering, fingertips leaving traces, everything to mark you as his. His wife, his love, his rose, you’re his.

And he’s yours, your husband and general, the man you love and how you love him.

You love him so much that you don’t complain when he simply sags against you, completely spent when he cums inside you, while your cunt tightens around his cock. You only grumble a bit, mind still hazy with another incredible orgasm he just gave you.

But he rolls off you, not minding the mess he made out of the sheets and you, wrapping his arms around your warm body and pulling you close. You snuggle against him, head on his chest, heart and mind relieved that he’s finally home again.

taglist. @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @stellumi , @auraxins , @lupicalbestwolf

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

ARKHAM MAID 2023

#honkai star rail #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x female reader #jing yuan smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations #after dark <3

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yandereorg · 3 months

Note

Let me elaborate on best friend!loa!Damian's manipulation :)

I can see him getting Talia's habit of giving endearing pet names, like Talia calling Bruce beloved. He starts using it on you, subtly manipulating you into also calling him a certain pet name because you guys are "really close friends".

Also, him disguising his touches as "platonic" affection. He has a tendency to put his hand on your lower back so that "he can easily grab you if you want to do something stupid", linking arms with you, and maybe, headpats! Damian is raised as an assassin so you just assume that he's touch-starved, that's why his platonic affections are like that. See this is why you receive questions from your assassin network about engagement and political marriages.

!! okay!!! im writing smth w best friend!dami right now though hes not an assassin and idk dami as a best friend Yandere is such a nightmare and even worse with loa!dami, like Damian probably doesnt have any friends and his world revolves around the loa and now you.

but Damian's hand inching lower and lower, his eyes lingering and sizing you up, the first time beloved falls from his lips and he explains it away. and you tell yourself to believe him, Talia says it all the time the brief time you spoke to ra's he mentioned his beloved daughter, you tell yourself that you shouldn't assume just because their different. plus all the romantic nicknames dami says though you tend to miss them as he says them in a different language.

all the suitors that try to get close to you but they can tell that youre an al ghul, talia had clothes made for you, your scent is smothered in the warm amber, cinnamon and vanilla that lingers on dami and rubs off upon you. the hair pins you wear are tailas, you wear damains necklace. its clear to everyone else that you are Damians

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drabblesandimagines · 6 months

Text

Commitment

Clive Rosfield x female reader, fluff Once again, thank you to the commissioner for this piece, and also for allowing me to share with you all x

“There,” Jill smiles, pinning the flower garland upon your crown. She’d crafted it from flowers from the backyard that very morning, wanting it to be fresh and vibrant in colour as possible.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing yourself in such finery. Jill has braided sections of your hair across your crown, incorporating the garland seamlessly. The gown is a fine white fabric, embroidered with dainty flowers across the waistline, sleeves and hem, and you dread to think of how many nights Hortense has worked over it by candlelight.

You had meant for it to be an extremely low-key affair – you, Clive, Joshua, Jill, Torgal, of course, and Tomes to officiate in Clive’s chambers one evening, but Gav, the excellent scout that he is, had clocked something was afoot and soon enough the entire Hideaway was abuzz with the news that you and Clive planned to wed, and all wanted to be involved.

It had started with Maeve asking what your favourite cake was – you can’t get married without a cake, she’d stressed, and the two of you had agreed, only because you knew it would be a welcome treat to the residents of the Hideaway. Then Hortense had appeared at the door, reams of fabric in hand, wanting your measurements and what you thought of this or that fabric, if you were a fan of long or short sleeves. You’d insisted that she shouldn’t waste the Hideaway’s supplies of something so frivolous as a wedding gown, something you’d only wear once, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

A procession soon followed – Charon had some simple rings in stock that Blackthorne was going to adjust to fit, the bard had asked if there was any particular tunes you were fond of, Byron then arriving after Gav had sent word, his boat filled up with the finest wine from his stores, as well as sundries towards what had soon turned into a wedding feast.

There’s a knock at the door and Jill hurries over to answer, opening it only a little to check who it was, before pulling them apart fully to permit them entry.

“Perfect timing, Joshua. I do believe we are ready.”

The Phoenix strides in, Jill quickly sliding the door shut behind him. He is dressed in his usual blacks but with what appears to be a new red cowl. Hortense had let no-one in the so-called wedding party escape without some sort of new garb for the day.

Joshua stares at you and you hoist up your skirt delicately as you get to your feet, feeling a little embarrassed from the attention.

“Is it too much?”

He shakes his head. “You are going to take Clive’s breath away.”

“Told you,” Jill grins, passing you the simple bouquet the botanists of the Backyard had put together, containing yours and Clive’s favourite flowers, wrapped with a white ribbon. “I best go take my place.”

“Thank you, Jill.” You stop her, pulling her into a hug. “For everything.”

“Oh, stop it,” she protests, her voice a little tight, but she leans into your embrace all the same for a moment. As she pulls away, she fixes your garland once more with a kind smile and it is then you see tears brimming her eyes. “I am so happy for you – both of you. I shall let the bard know you’re ready for your entrance.”

You find yourself swallowing down your own tears as Jill leaves the chambers, a hum of conversation floating through the doors as they open and close.

Joshua offers you his arm. “Are you ready, my lady?”

You loop your arm through his and take a deep breath. “More than ever.”

Clive stands at the top of the stairs to the shelves, the doors wide open, besides Tomes. Everyone is stood in the Ale Hall below, leaving a makeshift aisle between the two sides for his future wife to walk down.

He’d never considered marriage, truthfully. After years enslaved, it never seemed even a possibility until he had met you – sweet, beautiful, wonderful you, who he fell deeper in love with each and every day.

He knew life with him was hard, having to be parted often as his duty took him across Valisthea, his work to fulfil Cid’s legacy, never quite knowing when he could give you his undivided attention back at the Hideaway… But this, his vow to be your husband was something he could give you, and he did so gladly.

He is donned in a new white shirt at Hortense’s insistence, though still in his leathers, and Torgal sits by his heels, panting and as fluffy as he was a pup - the children had given him a thorough wash the day before and this morning tied a bright red bow around his neck, insisting he had to look his best for the festivities.

“Are you nervous, Clive?” Tomes asks, softly.

Clive takes a steadying breath, knowing he could never lie. “A little, but only because of the audience.”

“Understandable. You’ll forget all about them once you see your bride, I am sure of it.”

He’d seen Joshua enter the chambers a few moments ago and then Jill hurrying out, looking beautiful in her new teal and white dress, now whispering in the bard’s ear before taking her place at the bottom of the staircase.

The bard strums a chord in a flourish, getting the crowd to settle, before he begins to pick the strings in a simple but beautiful melody, and the doors to the chambers open once more, the entire Hideaway turning their head to catch a glimpse.

Clive forgets to breathe for a moment.

Tomes is right – as soon as you emerge, always beautiful to his eyes but today especially so, a vision so wonderful he doesn’t see anyone else. You’re blushing as you meet his gaze and hold it, trying to ignore the fact of so many eyes upon you, and Clive can’t help but wish Joshua would walk a little faster.

It feels an age before you reach the bottom of the stairs, when Clive can finally descend them. You pass your bouquet to Jill, and Joshua then passes your hand to Clive. It takes all that’s in him not to kiss you right that at that very moment, but he knows he must wait. Tears prick at his eyes and at that moment you don’t need to hear anything from him – the love and adoration on his face tells you more than words ever could.

You can barely take in what Tomes is saying as you stare into your love’s eyes, somehow managing to recite the affirmations at the right times, to slip the ring onto Clive’s finger as he does to yours and then, finally, Tomes wraps the ribbon around your clasped hands, binding you as together one at last.

“It is my great honour to present to you the new Lord and Lady Rosfield.” The historian proclaims, cheers and applause echoing around the Ale Hall in response – including a loud sob that is so unmistakenly Gav.

Clive cups your cheek then, tilting your head up as you place a hand upon his chest, meeting his lips with yours in a short, sweet but chaste kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper, before kissing him once again.

“I love you more - my light, my love, my life.”

“You can do far better than that, my boy!” Byron’s voice booms from below, interrupting your moment of tranquility.

Clive looks a little bashful from his uncle’s comment, though moves his head down to murmur a request in your ear.

“Shall we give them a show, my darling?”

“I think we should, my husband.” You grin in return. Clive wastes no time then, moving his hand to the back of your head, another to the small of your back and dips you in a smooth notion, tongue only swiping your lip for a moment before he presses you into a passionate, almost bruising kiss that makes your heart pound, and all to another raucous cheer from below.

---

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!

#ghostdogwrites #clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you

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bijouxcarys · 6 months

Text

Little Wayward Girl

Masterlist (requests are open)

Summary: As the result of a bet, you must prove to your friend that not only have you experienced the magic of Robert Plant once before, but that he will definitely remember you four years later. Right?

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNA

Word count: 9.6k (got a bit carried away)

Tag list: @brownskinsugarplum76 @firethatgrewsolow @chromations @whothefuckisanja @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @callmethehunter @strsmn @m-faithfull (if you'd like to be added, just let me know!)

1975

I huffed, brushing down my skirt after fighting my way through the hoards of fans that so desperately wanted to get backstage. There were displeased looks from surrounding girls, but it was their bloody faults for leaving a gap next to them!

"What are you looking at?"

"Don't know, but it's got a right face on it," my best friend, Ally, grimaced back at the scantly-clad ginger and her friends beside us.

"'Ey," I nudged Ally, sending her a look of disapproval.

"What, she's being a c--"

"Chill out, you're the reason we're back here anyways."

"Oh, yeah, because you wouldn't have wanted to come back here."

"Why do you say that?"

"To try and meet them, since you have never met them before." Ally smirked at me, making me roll my eyes.

"You're not budging, are you?" I asked her with a sigh.

I could see her lunging for the chance to make some kind of snarky remark, but chaos ensued further when the door in front of us cracked open, revealing a tall and large man with a noteworthy beard.

"Right, can't let all you birds in, as much as we all want you to," the man huffed, scanning his eyes over the huddle.

Squinting my eyes, I tried to place my finger on who this guy was, as he was staggeringly familiar. You'd think after four years, I'd recognise such a man immediately, but it took an embarrassingly lengthy amount of time for it to click.

G! Oh shit, it's Peter Grant--Y/N, you fucking idiot...

Peter, barely giving us a once over, let as many of us through as he could. Ally's hand grabbing onto mine, we sidled past Peter, finally entering the grounds of my mission. With a sigh, I glanced at Ally and rolled my eyes. I can't believe she's talked me into this...

...Earlier that day...

I stood behind Ally in front of the mirror, bobby pin between my teeth as I intricately braided the top layer of her blonde hair, ensuring there wasn't a lock out of place.

"I'm so excited!" she squealed. Her excitement made me grin, a similar feeling rippling through me.

"I just feel lucky that I get to see them again," I said through the bobby pin.

"I'm so jealous that you've already seen them live."

Smirking to myself, I took the pin from my mouth and secured the underside of her layer to the rest of her hair, followed by a thin hairband to secure the end of the braid. "All done."

Ally turned to her side, getting a good look at my handiwork and clapped giddily. She turned and gave me a tight hug, rocking me side to side. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

I giggled, patting her on the back before letting her go. I needed to fix my hair. Nothing too special, just a blow-out look that made my hair fluffier and larger. I liked the way it framed my face and sat along my shoulders; I loved the way it hung down my back.

Then again, so did he.

It wasn't that I was nervous to be seeing Zeppelin again in concert, it was purely the fact that memories from the night I saw them for the first time played out very vividly in my mind the whole week leading up to this day.

I did a once-over in the mirror of our hotel room, catching glimpses of Ally shuffling around on the bed, trying to force her feet into the pair of platforms she'd innocently swiped from one of our housemates.

"I still don't know why you don't just wear your own."

She looked at me as though I was speaking cling-on. "Are you insane? I've worn those so many times, as if I'd go to a Led Zeppelin show in shoes I've worn close to a hundred times before."

"If you say so, Al..." I shook my head in amusement. Once I concluded that I was happy with the outfit I had chosen, I decided that now was as good a time as any to tell Ally what I'd been waiting to tell her since we bought the tickets for the gig.

"So... I think there's something I should probably let you know before we head out," I started, spinning on my heel to look at her.

"Go for it," she struggled, falling onto her back with one leg in the air as she pulled on the heel of the platforms.

Amused by her blissful ignorance to the bombshell I was about to drop, I leaned back against the wall. "You know how I've seen them live before?"

"Yup!"

"Did I ever mention that I, uh... met them?"

Her leg dropped, the chunky heel thudding on the ground. "You did what?!"

I grinned, keeping my nonchalant position against the wall. "You heard."

"I'm not sure I did."

"You did," I laughed with a nod of my head.

"But... how?" she breathed out with wide eyes and an open mouth.

I shrugged. "I just found my way backstage with some girls I'd met that night. They're actually lovely lads."

Ally narrowed her eyes a bit, sitting up on the bed. It was like she was analysing my demeanour.

"What?" I asked.

"You're bullshitting me."

"I promise you, I'm really not," I shook my head. "That's not even the most unbelievable part about it."

"Fuck's sake, Y/N, tell me already!"

"You clearly don't believe that I met them, I highly doubt you'll believe the other part."

"Please! Tell me, I promise I won't jump to any conclusion," she pleaded through puppy-eyes.

"Fine!" I feigned defeat, as though I didn't want to tell her the sordid details. "I may or may not... have had... an... encounter..." I contemplated my choice of words. "...With Robert Plant."

"Yeah, right," she immediately fired back.

"See, I told you you wouldn't believe me!"

"You're telling me that you, Y/N, shagged Robert fucking Plant?"

"Well, I did!"

"Lies."

"Just 'cause you're jealous."

"I would be jealous if it were true," she sang, standing up and giving herself a final look in the mirror. "Well," she sighed, turning to face me with her hands on her hips. "There is one way you can prove it to me..."

"I'll be honest, I'm not overly bothered about you believing me or not, because I know it did happen," I said matter-of-factly, heading over to where I kept my bag and taking out the necessary things I needed for the night, sticking them in the deep pockets of my velvety brown blazer-jacket. "Besides," I turned, "he liked my hair. And my tattoo."

"Your shitty tattoo that you did yourself when you were sixteen?" Ally asked in subtle shock.

"Yeah, he said it..." I stopped myself, smirking. "No, you don't believe me, what does it matter?"

"So much for you not caring about me believing you or not..." She sighed dramatically. "Well, if you're comfortable with me shagging Harry--"

"Since when are you shagging my brother, Al?"

"Since you decided that it's not important to prove to me that you shagged the sexiest man on Planet Earth. Apart from your brother, that is..."

"Ew, gross, okay," I groaned. "How am I supposed to prove it?"

With a mischievous smile, she stepped closer to me. "Easy. We get ourselves backstage."

I shook my head, running my hand through my hair.

"Unless you don't think he'd remember you..."

Her smugness was irritating me now. It really shouldn't have mattered if she didn't believe me. But the more she was insistent that it didn't happen, the more and more I wanted to prove to her that it did. Just for the petty reason of being right.

"He'd remember me." I narrowed my eyes, but completely knew that I was being ridiculous. The chances of someone like Robert Plant remembering little old me were second to none.

"Yeah, okay," she disregarded. "I'm not considering it until you prove it to me. And if you can't prove it, and he can't remember a single thing about it... I get to have my encounter with your brother."

I groaned again, sitting back on the bed. "Fine. Fucking whatever. But I'm telling you... it did happen, and... h-he will remember."

"You don't sound too sure, Y/N, but we shall see..."

....Now....

Ally was having the absolute time of her life backstage; two roadies had already offered her a drink, which she obviously accepted, and she'd already gelled with multiple people.

I, however, felt uneasy about this whole bet.

How desperate to prove my friend wrong was I to insist that Robert fucking Plant would remember a night with a random girl from four whole years ago?! I spent a majority of the first half of the night mentally slapping myself and trying to figure out a way to get myself out of this situation.

But it proved to be too late as those four well-known rockstars entered the room to an abundance of cheers and applause for yet another electrifying performance.

First came Bonzo. I always remembered him as this big teddy bear, and he maintained that disposition. His hand was quickly occupied by a bottle of San Miguel. Some things never change.

Then came Jonesy. He was nothing but gentle from what I remembered of my brief time with the band. If I understood correctly, it seemed that he steered away somewhat from the sordid escapades derived from post-show adrenaline.

Jimmy had grown his hair out a little more, something I immediately noticed throughout the night. His eyes were laser-focused on the two girls waiting by the door for him, one of which were instantly taken under his wing. She was clearly his for the night. Probably the other one, too, now that I think about it...

I swallowed hard and glanced over at Ally, who was both in awe and anticipation. I can imagine she tackled with two mentalities. The first one being that she was seeing her favourite band up close, and the second itching to be right regarding Robert and I.

Larger than life, he strode in last, blouse open, yet tied across the bare expanse of his stomach. The jeans... God, those jeans. From where I had cowered in the corner, I had a prime view of the full picture. The pure perfection of one Robert Plant.

Heart hammering against my chest, I wished for the moment to pass quickly, knowing that come sundown the next day, my dear brother would be in bed with Ally.

I made no attempt to make myself seen. If he saw me, congratulations to him, but I wasn't going to intentionally put myself in the crossfires of embarrassment. Not that easily.

Ally was far too smug beside me, her mouth angled upwards in a smirk. I looked at her and rolled my eyes.

"Shut up," I mumbled, resorting to biting at my nails to relieve the growing anxiety.

"The moment we've been waiting for..." Ally started dramatically through a sigh. "...You shall be proven wrong, and I shall be between the sheets with H--"

I nudged her with some force, cutting off her provocation. She's so right, though...

My breath completely stilled in my throat when the enigmatic God of a vocalist scanned the room casually. And just like that, his eyes met mine. The moment was far too long for my liking.

Eventually, his eyes continued their surveillance around the room.

Nothing.

Not even the miracle of a second glance.

I cringed internally, lowering my gaze to the floor. Ally cackled beside me, before patting my back. "Damn, Y/N. Seems like he can't remember little old you..."

"Seems so," I mumbled, running my hand through my hair and shaking my head. Obviously, Y/N. You knew that would be the case.

All I could think back to was the moment Robert looked at me for the first time and didn't just pass me by.

1971

Ugh, you don't belong here.

I stood awkwardly amidst the small group of well-groomed girls that took me under their wing for the night. They were nice enough, and didn't look down on me like a lot of the other females in the audience did.

The hallway was eerily vacant as the final rings of the show erupted in precedence to the roaring yells of adoration. Vicky, who must have been about twenty-two, claimed it was best to get ahead of anyone else that may have wanted to come backstage.

I felt small and irrelevant with these girls. They were tall, beautiful, made-up, decked out, experienced... Everything that I was not. And when we heard an approaching cluster of footsteps, I quickly remembered that.

What are you doing, Y/N? This isn't your place.

My hands fist up into balls, hoping that my decision to extract myself from the situation would go unnoticed.

To my relief, it did. By them, at least.

Taking a few steps back, I initiated a turn, aiming to make a swift exit and retreat home. Perhaps in the comfort of my bed, I could indulge in fantasies of what might have been.

"Woah, easy there, love."

Startled, I collided with a broad chest, and in mere moments, I found myself locking eyes with the man who had elicited screams from thousands of girls just minutes ago.

Speak, Y/N! Don't be an idiot!

"S-Sorry," I stuttered dryly, lowering my head to walk past him. But he stopped me, reaching out to gently touch my shoulder.

"Are you alright?" I looked back at him, and tried my hardest to avoid his eyes. If I looked into his eyes, I'd melt. "You look shaken up."

My eyes darted to the floor, willing myself not to succumb to the beauty ahead of me. I nodded. "I'm fine. Just..." Muscle memory sabotaged my intentions, and I found myself finally looking back up at the blue pools of passion. And I couldn't look away. "I... was just... leaving."

"Already?" He tilted his head to the side as a charming smile took his features, embellished by the endearing tussle of facial hair I had swooned over all night. "Night's just started, darlin'."

His voice...

"Y-yeah, I know," I laughed pathetically, wanting nothing more than for the floor to swallow me whole. "You won't..." I glanced down the hallway at the girls I had left, their attentions fully on Jimmy by this point. "...won't be missing anything with me gone."

"Oh, I doubt that. The more the merrier."

I didn't answer him, I just pulled my gaze away from down the hallway and looked back at him with an unconvinced expression.

"Okay, well how about we start again normally?"

I scrunched my eyebrows up. "Wh--"

"Hello, my dear, I hope I don't seem too brash, but I can't help but notice how lovely and alluring your hair appears to be. I'm Robert, the silly prat that's just been jumping around on stage for the last two hours," he gallantly introduced himself with an exaggerated bow and an amused smirk.

My mouth hung open a bit, stumped at his energy. Not at all what I was expecting, but his subtle humour gave me a small sense of security, and I caught myself restraining a smile.

"I know who you are..." I said shyly.

"Yet, still, I haven't had the pleasure of knowing you who are," he pointed out, reaching out to cautiously take my hand in his.

Robert Plant is holding my hand. Robert. Plant. Is holding... My hand.

"Y/N," I managed to squeak out.

Robert grinned, squeezing my hand. "Names out of the way, may I ask why you don't think you'd be welcome?" Smoothly, he began to guide me in the direction of the dressing room where everyone else had convoluted. I barely even noticed, I was so caught up in his mere presence.

"Like I said... Don't think I'd be much fun." I shrugged. Robert's brows furrowed, an unconvinced expression on his face. "This is my first concert," I admitted through a nervous laugh.

"Ah," he chuckled, nodding his head. "I understand now."

By now, we'd stopped just next to the dressing room door. Robert turned to me, inadvertently trapping me between the cool breeze block wall and his heated, tanned body.

"Well, sweet Y/N with the pretty hair," he leaned down, lowering his voice to one laced with reassurance and the slightest hint of something else. "If you'd allow me, I'd very much like to be the one to... put an end to your post-show celibacy."

I swallowed hard, eyes wide as I stared up at his. He certainly has a way with words. So much potential to mean something entirely different. Without another word, I nodded, feeling my palms clam up at the realisation that I had agreed to something I only ever mustered up in my wildest dreams.

1975

Baffled by my own annoyance at Robert's complete lack of recollection, I grappled with the realization that my frustration stemmed from Ally being right and me being wrong. In that moment, I was an inconspicuous figure, a nobody.

Seeking refuge on a plush sofa, I settled into a comfortable spot, keenly aware that the majority in the room would soon migrate to an after-party in the hotel where the band was staying.

My gaze involuntarily returned to Robert, positioned at the opposite end of the room. A cigarette dangled from his fingers, and he was encircled by an eager flock of girls. Observing them, a wry thought crossed my mind – someone among them was in for an unforgettable night.

I couldn't pinpoint why his obliviousness bothered me so much. Was it wounded pride or misplaced expectations? Regardless, the scene before me unfolded like a vivid tableau, and I found myself grappling with a mix of emotions amid the impending revelry.

"What's with the long face? We're literally backstage at a Zeppelin show!"

I looked at Ally, unphased by her giddiness.

"Are you upset that you couldn't get away with your little fantasy?" She pouted. I could tell she had no real intention to upset me, and it didn't. It did, however, make me want to backhand her. In a friendly way, of course.

When I didn't answer, simply looking back over at Robert, Ally sighed heavily and shuffled closer to me. "Listen, just because it's not happened before, doesn't mean it can't happen tonight."

"Oh, sure," I rolled my eyes. "I'd have to get in li--"

Too engrossed in conversation, I was completely caught off-guard when I felt the chill of some liquid splashing onto my bare legs. I flinched backwards and looked up to see a very apologetic John Bonham.

"Oh, bloody hell, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, his voice booming over the chatter. He immediately looked around for something to help, settling on a nearby napkin. "Here, let me..."

I waved him off, laughing nervously. "No worries, it's just beer. I'll survive."

As he attempted to mop up the spill, our eyes briefly locked, and he grinned sheepishly. "Guess I'm not as nimble as I thought. Mini skirts and beer don't mix, do they?"

Still as lovely as I remember.

I chuckled, appreciating his good-natured attempt to diffuse the situation. "Lesson learned, I suppose." As I stood up to mop up the rest of the spilled beer myself, I knew it was fruitless, and I sighed lightly. I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of familiar blue eyes from across the room as I turned to pass Ally my own bottle. Wishful thinking.

"There's a restroom to the right down the hallway, love, I'm so sorry."

"You're okay, honestly. It was gonna happen at some point, might as well be by the best drummer known to man," I joked, giving Bonzo a genuine smile. "Be back in a sec," I said to Ally before taking off for said restroom.

1971

"Shh," Robert's lips moved against my jaw as I whimpered. "I've got you, darlin'."

My hips involuntarily ground upwards against the heel of his palm, searching for any semblance of friction. Robert's throaty chuckle tickled my ear with his beard.

"Have to go slow, sweetheart," he whispered. "Don't want to hurt you."

"Y-You won't..." I weakly whispered back.

Robert lifted his head to peer down at me, an unconvinced look splashed across his perfect features. "Oh, Y/N. Sweet, sweet Y/N," he breathed.

My hands clasped around the back of his neck, wanting nothing more than him flush against me. His eyes glued to mine, looking into the depths of my soul as he maneuvered his fingers below, tracing the outline of my underwear. "You need to be soaked, Y/N. If you want to take all of me..."

All I could do was nod in response, allowing his lips to cover mine in a searing kiss, his fingers very delicately navigating my untouched centre.

As soon as the pads of his fingers swiped gently over my folds, my hips ground upwards instinctively. I felt like I could unfold, just by his soft grazes.

With a lush swirl of his tongue around mine, he hummed into my mouth. Breaking the kiss with a subtle smacking sound, he gazed down at me with hooded eyes.

I could only imagine how desperate and needy I seemed below him; wide-eyed, flushed, barely touched.

"Am I correct in the assumption that you haven't done this before, Y/N?"

My throat closed up and I swallowed. Shit, I really didn't want you to figure that one out...

I stumbled in my response, diverting my eyes to the side, but unable to escape his ethereal clutches in the form of his fingers. He was still making slow strokes along my weeping folds. Even as he spoke to me with that voice.

"Hm, it's nothin' to be ashamed of, honey." His words came as an encouraging murmur, almost with a sing-song cadence. He put a stop to the movements of his hand, resting it on my abdomen. His head dipped down to pepper small, light kisses along my chin, along my jaw, and then down my neck. "I'll take such good care of you, darlin'..." he whispered. My skin tingled in response to his hot breath against it.

Robert nipped lazily at my neck before dragging his lips back up to mine with a chaste peck. "That's if you want, Y/N. Just say the words, and I'll take you there."

How can I say no?! You could have had me in the fucking hallway!

All it took was a feeble nod and a weakened "please" for Robert to spring into action. His gentle hands took their time in undressing me, and his eyes conveyed a novel's worth of intrigue, admiration, and pure lust.

A carnal desire; I to entrust, him to liberate.

1975

You know, you could just leave right now, and nobody would even notice. Maybe Ally. Shit, Ally. Why did you get me into this situation? Pfft, no, Y/N, it was you, you idiot. But still... you could make a run for it. Crawl into bed. Forget any of this even happened. Hopefully wake up and realise this is just a horrifying dream.... fuck.

The mental argument I was having with the reflection of the bathroom mirror went on, and I couldn't rationalise with myself. I should have left, but I didn't want to. I couldn't bring myself to. Something in the back of my mind told me that it was worth staying.

So, I huffed out, hoping to expel as much of the stress as possible, and did a once over in the reflection.

At least you can't see the beer anymore...

Leaving the restroom, I vowed to make the most of what the evening had to offer, and if that involved being completely ignored by Robert fucking Plant, then so be i--

"Woah, easy there, love."

Turning the corner, I walked straight into that broad chest I'd been ogling at for a majority of the night. With wide eyes, I craned my neck to look up at him.

Shit.

"Not the typical 'hello', but whatever suits you best," Robert chuckled.

"Oh, great, I said that out loud," I cringed inwardly.

There was a horrible moment of silence, of him just looking at me, studying me. It was hard not to revert back to that shy, scared 17-year-old that ran into him in an eerily similar way.

"D'ya enjoy the show?" he asked, leaning against the wall and folding his arms. God, those arms. I remembered how easily he hoisted my legs up with them. How they completely engulfed me when he held me for the night.

I found myself unable to speak. So I opted for a nod and a hum of approval. I was met with the signature side smirk, his dimple deeper than I remembered. Then again, he did have that beard back then. It felt great when he settled his head betw--

"Sorry 'bout Bonzo," he cut off my inner thoughts, "He's a clumsy sod when he's drunk."

I stifled a small chuckle, keeping my eyes anywhere but on his. That's how he captured me last time. Not that he fucking remembers... "Yeah, I know," I answered quietly with a nod.

My attempts at avoiding his gaze were cut short. His fingers rested under my chin, gently tilting my head up so I had no choice but to look at his face.

"I may be tall, but not tall enough that you can't look at me, love."

Jesus, the way he said that...

Swallowing, I pulled my head back. "Yeah, I know."

"You don't say much, do you?" he though aloud with a slight tilt of his head. Proving his point, I neglected to answer. "Were you planning to hang around tonight? We're going to head back to the hotel soon. Could have some fun, maybe loosen you up a bit, darlin'."

"I don't need loosening up. And my name is Y/N."

"Ah, my Little Wayward Girl speaks." He grinned.

"Yeah, well, it's a bit different when you wait outside of the ladies' restroom for someo--wait, what?" My eyes widened once again as I snapped my head back up to look him head on.

Robert's hand smoothed over the side of my head, stopping to cup my cheek as he dipped down to hover over me. Inches away.

"I'll see you in a bit, yeah?" he whispered.

Before he strode back down the hallway, leaving me dumbfounded and relieved all at once, he stole the lightest kiss from the tip of my nose.

1971

Robert's curls were soft and lush against the bare skin of my stomach as he laid facing the ceiling. He watched as the reflections of the sun danced in patterns above him, suggesting the break of dawn.

His arm was hooked around my bent leg, and my fingertips brushed over the mass of hair on his chest. My eyes were shut as I tried to capture the exact feeling of this moment, hoping to solidify the warmth of his presence in my memories forever.

Soon, my fingers were playing with his tussled beard, feeling the contours of his perfect jaw that were hidden under the natural mass.

"Tired?"

I forced my eyes to open. He was gazing up at me. The zeal in his eyes drew a shy smile from me, and for what felt like the hundredth time that night, my cheeks flushed.

"Yeah..." I answered in a hushed whisper, almost hoarse from the extent of which my voice had been exercised throughout the night. "I think you wore me out," I added with a silent giggle.

Robert responded with an amused hum, his hand idly tracing patterns along my thigh. "As long as you enjoyed it, darlin'... Though, I think it goes without saying."

I smirked at him. "How'd you figure that one out, then?"

He pulled himself up and turned over so that he was now hovering over me. Using his forearms to support himself, he pressed his clammy forehead to mine. "Those, sounds, darlin'... such a beautiful symphony." He lowered his head down, lips grazing the shell of my ear. "Music to my ears," he whispered. My teeth clamped down on my lips to subdue the idiotic grin that threatened to appear.

"What else?" I dared to ask.

Bringing his lips back up to mine, he melded us together in a searing kiss. His tongue teased my lower lip, but withheld the satisfaction of it going any further.

"Aside from the whimpers, the panting, and the dirty, dirty moans that fell from your pretty little mouth?" He licked his lips, eyes trailing down, his lips following suit. "The way your skin glistened..." He mumbled down my throat. "The goosebumps that you still have, by the way," he chuckled. Then, his journey travelled west and east. "The way your nipples became so taut, so early on." A light kiss to each of them. He continued south, dragging his soft lips and his rugged beard down my stomach until his chest was lined up with my used core. Broken into for the first time by this God of a man. "Then there's the perfect drip of your honey... Never tasted one so sweet, darlin'," he purred, daring to rest the palm of his hand over my mound. "You clenched around me so earnestly. You were so good."

Finally, he tilted his head back up at me. "Does that answer your question, love?"

I was breathless. It was like he was making love to me all over again, only lyrically. Like he did in his music. But for me, and me alone.

I wordlessly nodded, my lips parting in a shaky exhale.

"Good." Robert's playful smile returned, and he turned his head to pepper loving kisses on my thigh. He paid specific attention to the self-modification I made on my thigh. Then, he took a minute to ogle at it. "I like this."

I raised my eyebrow, an amused smirk on my lips. "Oh, the tattoo?" I laughed airily. "It's silly. Don't even know why I did it..."

"It's sweet. A little smiley face, the tongue sticking out." He looked up at me. "Innocent, yet... unruly and defiant. You're like my Little Wayward Girl..."

1975

Ally cackled, right in my face, as I gave her a quick rundown of what just occurred in the hallway.

"Yeah, okay, Y/N," she snorted with a shake of her head.

"I'm telling you the truth, Al!"

"I'm not judging you for lying about it, it's okay. You don't have to keep up with it."

"I'm not lying," I almost whined, running my hand through my hair. I near desperately scanned the room. Where the fuck did he go? It would be really helpful if he showed up and relieved me of this torture! I huffed, crossing my arms in frustration. What if I'm imagining things and what happened in the hallway was all in my head? Fuck, now I think I'm going crazy, thank you, Ally.

"Ally, you know me," I steadily began, "If it didn't happen, and you caught me out in a lie, I'd have given it up by now."

She squinted her eyes at me. "Yeah, but it's not every day you get to make something up about Robert fucking P--oh my god." Her eyes widened, looking behind me. Her hand reached out to grab at my wrist. And before I could turn my head to scope out what cut her off, I felt a steady touch on my lower back and a looming presence beside me.

"I don't believe I've had a chance to speak to you two yet," his distinct, velvety voice rang in my ears as a muffled shock, mixing with the rest of the noise in the room.

"N-No, you haven't," Ally croaked. She was starstruck. Who could blame her?

"I apologise for that. Y'see, there're always so many people waiting for us after shows, it's hard to get around everybody." I could tell without looking at him that he was speaking through his characteristically crooked smile.

"Just being here is crazy enough, I wouldn't even be mad if you didn't notice us," Ally said through a nervous and clumsy laugh. I couldn't withhold my stifled chuckle at her tone, very atypical for her. It was satisfying to watch her cool demeanour crumble with every word.

I could see Robert's head turn in my direction, and I instinctively looked back, my heart banging against my rib cage.

"Well, I've definitely noticed you, now." Even though it was in response to Ally, he was looking directly at me. The hand on my back bared a little more pressure. It was fleeting when he gave me another one of those smirks, before looking back at Ally. "So, how do you know my Y/N?"

My Y/N.

Ally blinked a few times, her eyes darting to me. I gave her a smile, silently screaming "I TOLD YOU," as I so wanted to out loud. I just froze in the moment, letting it unfold as beautifully as it seemed to be.

"U-uh, she's my friend--I'm sorry, you know her?" Ally's voice rose in pitch as he pointed at me.

"Know, knew, whichever suits you best," Robert shrugged. "Uh, when was it, love?" he asked me, once again looking at me.

Finally regaining an ounce of my confidence, I smirked ever so slightly as I answered him. "'71, I think."

"That's it," Robert grinned and nodded. Ally's mouth hung open a little, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Y-you were telling the truth!" she whisper-shouted at me.

"Uhh, yeah," I told her matter-of-factly.

"Fuck!" Ally slapped her hand on her forehead, most likely cursing the fact that she would not, in fact, be in bed with my brother this time tomorrow.

Robert's brows wrinkled in confusion, and he glanced at me. "Wha--"

"Don't ask," I answered before he could finish his question. "It doesn't matter anymore, does it, Ally?" I raised an eyebrow at her, an unrestrained smirk on my own lips now.

"No," she said through a clenched jaw.

"Okay, then," Robert exhaled, taking his hand away from my back to move his hair from his face. "Well, we're heading back to the hotel now," he said to Ally. "You're welcome to come along. However, I will be stealing Y/N for the evening." He looked down at me. "If that's alright with you, love."

Just like that, he had me again.

1971

I was grateful that they had a day off. It meant Robert and I could sleep well into the afternoon before they had to fly out the next day.

Robert seemed to adopt a somewhat domestic demeanour, though I suspected that was just how he was when he wasn't in the throes of making love--be that on stage, or off.

In essence, he dedicated the remaining time I spent with him to after-care. He truly looked after me after making my first time the most memorable, magical, and otherworldly. I couldn't help but let my mind wander, as he disappeared into the bathroom at 3pm, how lucky his wife must have been if he treated the women he didn't even know like this.

Lucky, ha. Her husband is off sleeping with countless women on the road. Luck doesn't seem like the most appropriate word to use in this situation, but anyone who came within a half-mile radius of Robert is naturally deemed lucky.

Lost in my thoughts, tangled up in the bedsheets, Robert blocked my vacant gaze at the ceiling by extending his hand out to me. He'd run us a bath.

He'd taken me there, twice more, in that hotel bathtub. Once with his fingers, once with his cock--and both times accompanied by the melodic moans, grunts, and murmurs of his platinum voice.

By 5pm, he was ordering more tea with lemon and honey to the room. He taught me about the importance of honey when it came to protecting the vocal chords, prompting a detour of innuendo and even more charm.

Out on the balcony, overlooking the city, we both took in the cool breeze. The much-needed fresh air. We laughed over the wind's assault on both of our hair, igniting a playful back and forth over whose hair looked the best all dishevelled and out of place.

Desperate to prove his point of mine looking "enigmatic and resplendent," this led to a series of photos taken on the balcony with the camera Robert had brought along on tour.

"You really do like my tattoo, don't you?" I giggled when he asked me to pull back the robe and maneuver my body so the inked smiley face was on show.

"I told you I liked it, love," he said as he focused on snapping a few shots. "You should, too," he grunted as he stood up, stretching up. "Anything that makes you different, you should love it."

Eventually, he took me as his guest for dinner with his band mates, along with one of Jimmy's girls, and the two men who I quickly got to know as Peter Grant and Richard Cole. My attention was solely on Robert, though, and his on me. Offering me cigarettes, drinks, introducing me to different foods I'd never tried before.

And before he gave me another night of mind-blowing, leg-shaking orgasms, we sat out on the balcony, listening to records, and talking about what music struck him in the heart the way Zeppelin did with me.

He even sang to me. Rough lyrics and melodies, originals that hadn't yet been released to the world. I was honoured. I couldn't believe I was in the right place at the right time. Little old me.

But there I was, sat on a balcony in Robert Plant's hotel room, as he hummed the first or second draft of what the world would come to know as Stairway to Heaven.

1975

I would have been an idiot to turn down another offer from Robert Plant. To deny him of that limousine ride to his hotel, where the others piled in after us. Ally had attached herself to Bonzo, falling into deep, drunken conversations. And in my own tipsy--not drunken--haze, I looked up at Robert and chuckled when the car started moving.

His arm was draped over my shoulders, burning holes into my jacket with the mere graze of his fingertips, up and down my arm.

"So, you gonna tell me how you figured out it was me?" I said up at him. "And why you waited to follow me to the restroom to let me know of that fact?" I tilted my head further back, with me being so close to him.

The audacity he had, in front of all these people, to slide his other hand up my leg, stopping just as his fingers disappeared under the hem of my skirt.

"Honey, a skirt that short leaves very little to the imagination, and can expose your most unique qualities..." he trailed off, glancing down at his hand as he carefully teased my skirt a few centimeters further up, enough to unveil the stamp of innocence that had led him to dub me his Little Wayward Girl.

"And, of course... yer one of the only lasses I've had the pleasure of meeting to have this particular unique quality," he jested with a smirk, before gently squeezing the flesh of my thigh.

He leaned into me, lips parted inches from mine. "Just need to get reacquainted with another treasure hidden away up there, don't I?" He didn't let me answer, he just captured my lips in a searing kiss.

That kiss took us all the way up to Robert's hotel room, where he had me pinned against the back of the door with his lips hot on my neck.

"And you're sure Ally will be alright with--" I cut myself off with a gasp as I felt Robert's teeth steadily bite down under my ear.

"I already told you, love, she's perfectly safe with Bonzo," he said lowly. He kissed where he'd bitten, and dropped his voice to a provocative whisper. "Now, no more about anyone else tonight, Y/N..." Pulling back, he cupped his hand over my cheek, looking into my eyes. "Just us, darlin'... You..." His free hand trailed down my chest, fingers delicately teasing away the covering of my jacket. "And me."

I let him push my jacket off my shoulders, barely feeling it pool around our feet. I couldn't take my eyes off of his, and I fell deeper and deeper into his allure--exactly how I wanted it to be.

"No more distractions," I whispered back with a slow nod.

"No more distractions," Robert smirked, tilting his head to the side. He took a step back and held his hand out. "Come, my dear."

His hands were gentle, but a fiery presence on my skin as he took his time to remove every stitch of clothing from my body. In that moment, I felt like the most sublime creature on Earth. Every inch of my body was doted on, appreciated, cherished...

Robert was still clothed when he took my face in his hands, delicately placing the lightest kiss to my lips. Then down to my chin, my throat, as far as his tall frame could reach without having to bend at the knees. His fingers threaded through my hair, causing my eyes to flutter shut and my thighs to instinctively clench at the thought of him applying pressure to my roots.

"Set the pace, love," he muttered.

"I'm not 17 anymore, Robert..." I reminded him, my eyes flickering down to his lips. "I can handle whatever pace you wish to set," I told him with a confident exhale. My fingers worked on removing his blouse, all whilst distracting him with the want in my eyes.

And I watched as his darkened with something akin to epicurean, sovereign desire.

With an unfaltering stare, his hands gripped my wrists in the process of me pushing his shirt from his shoulders. Bringing my hands up to his lips, he kissed them, almost like a Godspeed to his gallant complexion. Then he let me go, ushering me backwards with maintained eye contact until I had no choice but to sit back on the plush bed.

I took in the delightful view of Robert shrugging off his blouse. My stomach clenched when the veins in his hands flexed whilst unbuckling the stylish belt he had secured around his hips. It wasn’t hard to tell that those jeans were starting to become an issue. The two of us shared a small, knowing smile as he caught me eyeing the obvious bulge.

“You do it on purpose,” I stated, leaning back on my hands.

He had a permanent smirk on his face as he peeled off his jeans and underwear. The heat between my legs fluttered already once his large cock came into view, springing up, proud and prominent. “What do I do on purpose, love?”

He knew exactly what I meant.

“Don’t play innocent, Percy, it doesn’t suit your God status.” I slipped my lip between my teeth, using the well known nickname for the first time.

“God status, eh?” He grinned, stalking towards the bed and hovering over me, steadying himself of his hands. “My, my, where as my Little Wayward Girl gone?”

I glanced down at his lips, shivering internally at how close he was to me. The tension was palpable. Thick enough to saw in half.

“If I remember correctly,” I started in a whisper, gazing up at his eyes. “A Golden God took the time to school me. And he stole away with that Little Wayward Girl before sunrise.”

“And who exactly assumed my Little Wayward Girl’s throne, my dear?” He whispered back, trailing kisses along my jaw. When he got to my neck, nipping and sucking marks into the sensitive skin, my hands instinctively came up to hold onto his biceps. “A Goddess, perhaps?” He breathed hotly into my ear.

The natural sandalwood musk of his body drugged me. I was high on his presence, rendered unable to answer with anything other than a shaky breath.

Robert’s hand moved up to hold the side of my neck, tilting my head in his direction. His eyes were clouded and hooded. Hungry with desire.

“Why don’t you show me what that Golden God taught you, baby?”

He didn’t have to ask me twice. In what seemed like a momentary flash, he’d returned to a standing position with me perched on the edge of the bed: face to face with his cock.

Tentatively holding onto the base, I gave the tip of his cock a kitten lick. Testing the waters. I glanced up at Robert, seeing he had one of his huge hands rested on his hip. Like he did onstage. Fuck.

I kept my eyes on him as I wrapped my lips around him, steadily taking his length into my mouth. Cheeks hollowed, I sucked gently, a spark shooting through my core when his lips parted with a sigh.

“That’s it, darlin’. Mmm…” he grunted, shutting his eyes and hanging his head back once I set a satisfactory pace.

I let my saliva coat him, I swirled my tongue around his hot tip, I did anything I could, and more, to work this leviathan into a state of ecstasy. I wanted to see his chest shimmering in his sweat, the rogue blonde curls plaster to his forehead, and the taut muscles under his abdomen tense with an unbearable urge to take control.

He looked down at me, almost taken aback by my boldness when I started to pay attention to his tight, full balls. Flattening my tongue, applying pressure with the tip of it in the right places, even teasing him with the odd suction.

“So perfect… Fuuuck…” he moaned, and his free hand held onto my head. “Damn it, I schooled you well, babe…” Before he lost it completely and cut the night short, he pulled me up to my feet, barely having room between him and the bed. He crashed his lips into mine, tonguing my awaiting lips and grabbing onto my hips with mammoth hands.

My own hands flew up to bury them into his mane of hair, meeting his frantic kiss with a matching ferocity. He leaned down slightly to wrap his arms tightly around my thighs and hoist me up for a brief moment before ultimately dropping me down beneath him on the bed. The kiss was forcefully broken, and I needed more.

Robert kneeled in between my legs, keeping me completely at his mercy. Caressing my face, he studied me intently. As though he was thinking about all the things he wanted to do to me. His thumb tugged at my lip, and I earnestly took it into my mouth, grazing my teeth over it.

“My girl…” He traced the pads of his fingers down my chin, down my throat, down between my breasts. He stopped to cup them, thumbs teasing over the taut nipples that were electrified from his simple touch. “…you…” His fingers ventured lower, tickling down my sides. “…are…” Up my legs, under my thighs, over my tattoo, to my abdomen. Finally, he reached my centre, adorned with a small mass of soft curls. “A Goddess.”

One hand pressing lightly against my lower stomach, he used his other thumb to venture over my folds. Two little swipes, barely there, drew a gasp from my lips. He acknowledged this for a fleeting second, and smirked to himself when he brought his thumb up to his mouth to wet it. His appetiser.

His eyes were fixed on the sight below him as he placed his hand flat over my mound, pushing against it to open me up ever so slightly—enough to allow the pad of his thumb access to the bundle of nerves that had been throbbing with need for the past hour. He made continuous movements over it with his thumb, taking pleasure from my reaction.

“Sensitive baby…” he hummed, keeping up with his actions. He watched my form twitch lightly, hips automatically rolling upwards, and my mouth fall open.

There was no doubt that he could have made me cum like this. Just by rapidly swiping his thumb back and forth over my clit. He knew it, too. And for a moment I thought that was his goal. But he worked me up to such a high, to where it was impossible to miss the swelling his ministrations enforced and the progressive rise and fall of my chest.

Then he pulled away.

“Robert…” I whimpered, rolling my hips upwards again.

“You were so close, darlin’… so beautifully enthralled…” he practically moaned in response to my whimpers. He grasped onto my thighs, slowly pushing them forward towards my chest so I opened up entirely. “Do you want to cum, Y/N?” I nodded wantonly. “Tell me… let me hear it…” he coaxed, smoothly lowering himself to my thigh, where he pressed the lightest kiss. So, so close to my aching heat.

“I… Please… I want to cum, Robert…” I sighed, toes curling at the anticipation he had built. “Please… m-make me cum, baby, I need it.”

“I know, my sweet… I know…” he mumbled, kissing lower down. Just a little more… “You need it so bad, honey…” His face hovered over my weeping heat, having the sheer audacity to blow very lightly against it. “Speakin’ of honey… does my lady taste just as sweet as I remember…” He drawled, more of a vocalisation of his inner thoughts than a direct question.

“Robert! Please…” I whined.

He dived in, completely catching me off guard. Face buried as far as it could go, lips latching to my swollen clit, suckling, slurping, and flicking his tongue. He slobbered over it like a starving mongrel. His hair covered my thighs, curls bouncing with the movements of his head as he feasted on my nectar.

“Fuck!” I cried out, my hands shooting downwards to grasp onto his hair, tugging at the roots. He responded with a growl, the vibrations adding to the growing sensations between my legs.

He was feral. To him, this was his last meal.

“Oh…God… Robert, yes! Fuck, don’t stop!” I panted, once again allowing my hips to grind upwards in tandem with his tongue. He skipped further teasing by plunging two of his long fingers into me, curling them upwards and building a strong rhythm to match the way his tongue ravaged my pearl. “Y-yes… I’m… fuck…” I incoherently moaned.

Instead of verbally encouraging me, he simply moaned loudly against me, briefly nodding his head, letting me know it was okay to cum for him. He let out a sharp exhale, putting his all into his assault.

Instinctively pushing his head down, I felt my climax hit. Hard. I arched off of the bed and my head was thrown back into the fluffy pillows. I let out an almost animalistic groan, my breath halting in the process as I rode out the intensity of my orgasm.

Robert gave me the courtesy of letting me rest for a few moments, kissing my core in the process of the comedown. With glistening lips, he watched the aftershock contractions, admiring his work. Then he finally crawled back up to me, grabbing my face and meeting my lips with his, coated in my essence. The kiss was sloppy, and we had very little care for the mixture of fluids that covered both of our faces in the process.

“Robert…” my voice was muffled by his kisses. “Need…need you inside…”

“Already on it, darlin’,” he gasped, pulling himself up onto his knees. He eagerly guided his cock to my awaiting entrance, lubing himself up in the juices he’d conjured. He looked me in the eye as he steadily pushed forward, the thick girth of his manhood stretching me by the second.

My body tingled with the reminder of the burn and sting that accompanied a night with the Golden God. It was delicious.

Robert watched my face, looking for any indication of hesitation on my end. But my body welcomed his, and he easily settled to the hilt within me.

“‘S’that feel okay, baby?” he asked with a hurried whisper.

“Uh-huh…” I clamped down on my lip as I nodded.

“Yeah?” He got as close to me as he could whilst still on his knees. Once again, my legs were being pushed up towards my chest, allowing his cock to press against the most sensitive part of my body.

Robert didn’t waste time. He was unbridled. Primal. Insatiable. His thrusts were quick to set an intense pace, eliciting those lewd slapping sounds each time we collided.

“So good… baby…” he moaned, clenching his jaw and breathing heavily from his nose as he continued to fuck me into the mattress. My own moans and whimpers of ecstasy spurred him on, rolling his hips in a circular motion and maintaining pressure on my sweet spot.

“Oh fuck! Yeah, right there, baby…” I keened, having no choice but to fist at the pillow beside my head.

“Yeah? That the spot, darlin’?” He purred, before bringing one of my legs over so that both of them were pressed together. He rested them both on one of his shoulders, one arm holding onto them, whilst his other hand reached out to grab at my breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers as his thrusts intensified. “Ohhhh… fuuck, you’re so perfect around my cock, sweetheart.”

The positioning of my legs caused every contraction and flutter to be felt with ferocity by Robert. Nobody had ever taken me like this. But then again, nobody is quite like Robert.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, the unexpected rise of another release crawling up through my body. It wasn’t a progressive swell. The warning signs of another orgasm crashed into me, taking me by surprise, which only served to make the experience even more intoxicating.

Robert still had the ability, through his animalistic venture, to flash me that signature smirk as he caught onto my sudden response. He shook his hair from his face as he continued to pound into me. “You there again, darlin’?”

“Y-yeah… oh fuck, yeah, I am…” I whimpered, my chest rising and falling. This was going to be an intense one. And he knew it. So, he moved my leg back to rest atop his other shoulder and leaned down completely over me, folding me in such a visceral manner, though one of my legs fell slightly in the midst of him now slamming in and out of me.

“Come on, Y/N…” he hummed down at me, focusing on my second release before his first. “Show me how hard you can cum, little girl… I know you have it in you… I can feel it…” he breathed out hotly against my lips. His piercing blue eyes were glued to mine, and we maintained intense eye contact.

I huffed and panted in his face, digging my nails into the shoulder my leg had fallen from. It was coming. So close.

“Ah… R…Robert!” I gasped.

“That’s right, honey… you’re almost there… let go… make a mess of me…” He was so lost in the moment that he didn’t care that his thrusts were causing the headboard to start slamming against the wall.

His landscaped pelvis was grinding against my clit, and I could feel his tight balls slapping against me with every movement.

Then it happened.

“Fuck, I’m… I’m c—“ I cut myself off with a shriek, and the loudest cry of pleasure I’d ever mustered up. I came so hard around Robert’s cock, and my nectar wept and wept, soaking the sheets, and soaking both Robert and I. My body jerked and my ears rang, and I heard Robert offer up a breathless chuckle.

“My good girl… fuck! Shit, get ready, baby…” he warned, clasping onto my legs as he chased his high. “Fuck!” He let out the loudest guttural growl, his thrusts transitioning from inconsistent to completely stilled. He steadily and sharply pumped his load into me, filling me up with every inch of his love.

I felt so owned. Claimed. Possessed. Potent with the power and energy of this otherworldly human above me.

Robert writhed in the aftershocks of his release, and he soon let my legs fall back down onto the bed, followed by his own collapse onto my chest. He nuzzled me as we both fought to catch our breathes. I found comfort in the lewd sensations that came with him pulling out of me. I was dripping—soaked.

Robert eventually lifted his head up to look at me and he gave me a long, gentle kiss, accompanied with a sigh. “Sublime…” he whispered hoarsely. “We… definitely need to…get in that…bath, though…” he panted steadily.

I laughed weakly with a feeble nod of my head, “I… absolutely agree…” We had made an absolute mess of the bed, but it was entirely worth it.

“Sorry you only came…twice,” he playfully apologised, shifting to the side so only half of his weight was on me. “Ah well…” he sighed, sweeping some of my damp hair from my face. “Just have to give you…about five next time.”

I raised my eyebrows and turned my head to look at him with hazy eyes. “There’s a next time?”

“Oh, my sweet Little Wayward Girl,” he smirked, “There’s always a next time.”

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skyloftian-nutcase · 2 months

Note

I woke up with a sore throat and sneezing.

If you feel up to it, how would one of the healthcare AU boys handle waking up sick?

Legend knew it was going to be a pin when he woke up feeling congested. His stomach clenched uneasily, not quite nauseous but definitely not comfortable. His head pounded, his throat ached, and he was already over this.

I swear, if this is War’ head cold I’m gonna clobber him.

For a second, he felt relief - he could call out from work since he was sick! - and then he remembered that he worked in healthcare, that nobody cared if he was sick, that this was just a head cold and he would have to suck it up and deal with it.

He remembered Wind one time wishing everyone got sick so they would get a break, and Time had said what they’d all been thinking: “No, then we’d just be working and miserable.”

Trilling out a breath through his lips, he dragged himself out of bed. Some cold medicine would hold him over. He hopefully put a hand to the back of his head, feeling a little warm, but even a fever wouldn’t stop him from getting an occurrence if he called out, so there was no point in checking.

“Typical,” he grumbled as he wandered into the kitchen. There was some cold medicine that was still half full, so he took the prescribed about and washed it down with an energy drink before brushing his teeth and washing his face. His stomach… did not appreciate the concoction, so he carefully sipped some ginger ale to try and settle it.

His mood was certainly sour as he drove to work, but he tried to rationalize with himself. This did just feel like a bad cold - there was no point in lamenting not missing work, because there was no point in not going in. A cold wasn’t an excuse. It wasn’t like he was dying. He’d worked through far worse.

But the fact that he had to be sick while working was a pain.

When he trudged into the ED, Warriors shot him a suspicious look. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Legend grunted hoarsely. “Just a cold.”

“That’s what you get for working straight nights,” Wars commented with a click of his tongue. “Destroys your immune system.”

“So says the guy who sounded like a congested goose the other night,” Legend snapped. “Pretty sure you’re the one who got me sick!”

“That was allergies! I don’t have a cold!” Warriors argued.

Someone sneezed, making the two whirl in their direction to see Wild leaning against a stretcher, looking pale and miserable.

“It was you, wasn’t it!” Legend accused.

Wild blinked, confused. “Me?”

“You’re getting everyone sick,” Wars joined in. “Put a damn mask on!”

Wild rolled his eyes. “I’ve been wearing a—hey!!”

The transporter hissed as Legend and Warriors armed themselves with alcohol wipes and sanitation spray, warding him off like some hellspawn before grumbling as they got their assignments for the night.

#you ask skye answers #lovely ereighna #writing #lu in healthcare #lu legend #lu warriors #lu wild #Wild out here being a plague spreader #Don’t worry he masks at work! He got Legend sick after they got off and hung out together #I literally had this thought process today LOL #“I wish I was sick because then I wouldn’t have to work ☺️”#“…oh no wait then I’d just be working AND sick never mind 😒”

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