#if you take a step back it’s kinda wild to imagine what it would be like if it was of a differently oriented country

[lucabyte]

obligatory ramble about postcanon loop ask

also your art is amazing

Hiiiiiiiii :D thank you :)!!

and thank you for the excuse to post the. just absolute wall of text that i truncated down to form the tags of that post. (i did,,, hit the tag limit. i forgot tumblr had one of those...) so let me just paste that and tidy it up a bit...

I am putting this under a readmore because it's a bit long. but:

This is like. The General Context for all* of my postcanon doodles? (Except AUs obviously) Like this is the base idea I've been drawing them all in. So, feel free to backread with this in mind. I've basically had this 'postcanon' timeline set in my brain since finishing the game...

My general thoughts are that I like the idea of Loop (even if through dubiously ethical means) being able to slowly reintegrate with the party as a whole new person, because they are, in fact, their own person.

It's a muddle of thematic threads im pulling on and "wouldn't it be fucked up if", but. (at its core, it's powered by the fact that like, while narratively isat's theme of 'the only person who can truly take the first step to help you is yourself'. (wrt: loop helping the party help siffrin in act 5) which i LOVE AND IS GREAT NARRATIVELY…. would be super fucked up irl to learn that your friend 'learned as a lesson' while you stood by kinda uselessly. I know i'd be upset about it. but thats mostly background here. doesn't really come up. at least not until loop has to explain who they are and the party realises they had to fall back on literally themselves again for help, but i digress,)

The real core concept is: Occam's razor. It is like, inherently, a buckwild thing to accuse a person of being somehow a clone or copy of your friend. Even if they start vaguely alluding to a backstory it's far more likely they were some other person before all that. (I still think Odile has that theory in the back pocket but she's rational enough to know it's a really long shot without a solid explanation. and i think Loop deep down knows this, and would, if cornered into confessing, turn the situation around to go J'ACCUSE and make HER explain it instead. Ever longer dodging being direct with their emotions...)

And the party are nice! And if someone has changed and wants to keep stuff secret it's kind of not their business? (Though it's hard not to speculate… see: the main joke of the doodles) And they seem important to Siffrin so they just try to accept them abrasive quirks and all. And eventually the question of their prior identity just fades away since, well, they're Loop. Their friend Loop.

but yeah. personal headcanon is that a few months/weeks after picking up and getting aquainted with Nille** (since that was presumably the IMMEDIATE TASK postgame), Loop reappears (either after a literal period of nonexistance, or just spending a few months wandering the french countryside alone being attacked by wild dogs). Since Siffrin has had a while to be therapised by the party they're doing mostly okay, but Loop showing up and still being agitated/aggressive pulls them both into a bit of a backslide behaviourally and puts the party on the back foot again.

Hooowever, I do think that due to no longer being literally stewing in the worst pressure cooker of all time together, the two do mostly actually sort themselves out with productive conversation. (Via a cycle of: genuinely distressing argument -> weeeird lovebombing -> ok we're good -> repeat, that gets less intense over time)

Thus, allowing the party to just. Integrate loop as a new person. They and Siffrin shuffle into different ecological niches (Loop taking over stuff Siffrin is now too squeamish for, etc (see: hunting, mostly)), and while it's not exactly what Loop wanted they generally get that beggars can't be choosers and it's a pretty good deal. And the rest of the party does straight up just like them as a friend, especially when Loop quits trying to actively antagonise them after a few weeks of being around them, since they just can't keep up being mean to people they like forever.

As for how I think the truth eventually drags itself out. This is where I invoke The Isabeau Torment Nexus™. So its gonna get shippy here for a bit hold on.

Which is, I think giving them time before Loop reappears long enough that Siffrin and Iseabeau actually manage to become established, Isabeau has to be the one to nudge the pair of them and go. "Hey. You know we're in Vaugarde right. I'm okay with polyamory if we all communicate." Before Loop and Siffrin actually even acknowledge that whatever the fuck they have going on kinda looks a lot like a relationship of some kind. (or have already been agonising about that via fighting and arguing, depending) (Obviously this comes after Isa "Emotionally intelligent enough to keep a lid on the jealousy" Beau has managed to use that big brain of his to Not just go Scream somewhere on the daily because oh godddd they keep talking like theyre suicide-baiting each other jesus chriiist. is it overstepping his boundaries to bring that up?? god)

This, taking a bunch of the tension out of Loop and Isabeau's relationship (Since I imagine Loop is a. being weird for the obvious reasons and b. feeling kinda guilty about 'getting in the way of' Siffrin and Iseabeau), allows them to actually get close in a normal friend way. (I think an interesting turning point could be Isabeau actually taking Loop's side in an argument vs Siffrin, which would absolutely break Loop's brain. Especially if it's an argument that matters. Like what do you mean he isn't just going to play favourites. What?)

Then Isabeau, just actually open minded and charmed by Loop (and maybe even somewhat at Siffrin's suggestion?) tries to close the final open side on the polyamory triangle here and that's the final straw for Loop on "This lie by omission is too unethical to keep up, this is just actually sick and wrong. I can't do this while he doesn't know who I am." Though. Obviously it probably goes. Very poorly with emotions high like that. And the added element of several months of deceit. Getting dark here for a second but that dagger is going MISSING and so are THEY for a hot minute.

Then yaaay everything works out in the end 👍 yippieee!! all it took was maybe a lot of harrowed recontextualisation of all the weird shit your new friend said and did when it turns out they're your old friend. It's fine.

But yeah. this is basically the context all of my postcanon doodles have existed within? And those exist to give other people something to chew on. So this does too.

I suppose TL;DR: Imagine if sloopis almost fucking happens before isabeau knows who loop is. can you fucking imagine. can you imagine having to navigate that. nightmare.

*Yes this includes the implied cannibalism comic. Uhh. Comes part and parcel with headcanoning that Loop went way off the deep end similar to A5 Sif But Maybe Worse before giving in. Add weepy half-asleep confessions to murder wherever you see fit in your mind palace. 👍👍👍

**Re: Nille footnote. I don't have anywhere to put this besides here! I have some thoughts on Loop and Nille having an odd dynamic. I don't imagine Nille to be super gung-ho on trusting a bunch of adults (even if they are majority around her age) given their implied backstory. It's probably a big shock to the system, especially since Bambouche is a good couple hundred Kilometers up north from Dormont and these guys don't seem to have trains. She would've been unfrozen and without Bonnie for some time....

Which is to say: I think she's suspicious of them. I think she may be looking for excuses to distance herself, keep Bonnie safe. SO.... A new guy showing up? And antagonising the party? What do they know that I don't...? I should find out.

And since... Loop didn't ever know Nille, they have no ammunition or real reason to be cruel. Plus, if they're trying to stay on Bonnie's good side (SINCE... if Bonnie thought Loop was cringe they may as well kill themselves. In their mind.) they SUPER have no reason to antagonise Nille.

Mostly, they might be able to open up to each other easier than they can the rest of the party?

I feel like this resolves with Loop feeling compelled to apologise for what they and Siffrin let happen to Bonnie, though... Hmm... Depends on how you interpret Nille that they'd be glad nobody else had been told about that yet, or furious it had been secret this long. I lean toward the former.

#PHEW THIS IS LONG. i wrote some extra footnotes and tidied it up a bit. but uh. here you go! my personal headcanon baseline for postcanon. #i could probably elaborate more but that would get unwieldy. like i have opinions on loop's dynamics w each party member but. LONG POST... #lucabytetalks #isat #isat spoilers #in stars and time #isat loop #isiloop #sloopis #WONT be tagging everyone thats absurd. loop centric post though with a chunk about nille at the end #isat act 6 spoilers

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 4)

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

7k words of a fever dream, happy Sunday, sinners ✨💦 I really hope you like it 🥺💖

You were back, unexpectedly but welcomed nonetheless. But now Alastor finds himself in a new kind of hell. There was, unfortunately for him, no killing what he felt when he looked at you.

{Warnings/Promises: Smut, Ace spectrum Alastor x FemReader, Alastor has feelings, creampie is the best nighttime snack, Angel is always the good guy, cervix punishment, mating press, Alastor demon form, Antlers go brrrr, drinking to forget, drowning (in cum)((and emotions)), discussions of murder, Alastor gets horny for discussions of murder, kinda breed kink if you squint, I saw a fan image of a hazbin hotel pool and it’s been stuck in my head for days.}

MINORS DNI (ah! Eh! I — stop. I see you. You know I see you, right? Get outta here! 🚨)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

You were quick to stifle your smile, seeing Alastor standing in front of you with his hand outstretched. Why were you smiling? You were dead. Brutally so. And, You were in hell. But the corners of your mouth kept tugging upward at the sight of the stupid fucking deer demon before you. His own wild smile, eyes half lidded as he looked at you like he knew you.

You took his hand, needing the help standing. He fingers slipped from your palm and came to rub the velvet skin of your—- ears? You smacked his hand away, taking a step back.

The look he gave you, confusion? You weren’t sure, his head cocked to the side, hand lingering a beat longer in the air. He took a step toward you and you took one back.

Alastor laughed, “Quite the welcome, dear.”

You narrowed your eyes, did he know? Did he know you dreamt of him so many nights? That you struggled daily to not see his face behind your eyelids, not hear his lilting voice in your ear?

“Long time no see, Alastor.” You didn’t mean to sound quite so bored when you said it, you weren’t really sure at all what was going on in your head. You didn’t expect to see him so soon, literally immediately upon your death. You didn’t have time to recalibrate the mixed up feelings you had created for yourself over this stranger.  

You pined for months to see him again, trying so hard to push the memory of him as deep as you could. So deep, in fact, you found yourself tortured at night with fantasies of his company. Even during the day, your life was altered around him. You couldn’t listen to the radio, the odd static and reverb just forcing him back into your consciousness. You took long forest walks, thinking about hunters and deer. You wore that fucking robe for an embarrassingly long time, remembering being in another world entirely.

Alastor’s face fell, throat closing slightly as he thought he realized what was happening. You didn’t remember the time you’d spent with him. He had been enjoying lazy nights in his room and pleasurable times in the woods with a ghost. He took a step closer, maybe if he— maybe your body would remember? If you just smelled his bed, perhaps you’d stop acting so cold. If he could awaken the impressions he was sure he left on your soul, he could pick up where he left off. A comfortable companion. Kind eyes that only saw him. His name, sweet and low tumbling from your lips.

You hit the wall with your back, making distance from him. He hadn’t hurt you, but you couldn’t be sure what would happen now. Fantasies are no indication of a person’s real self. Your dream romps were just that— dreams. Fiction your mind produced to fill the gap in your life he somehow created in your short time together. Imagination fleshing out this unknown demon you couldn’t stop thinking about. 

His hand fell. There was a second his smile dropped, brows knitted. It came and it went, “Well! I best go get Charlie. She is the official welcome committee of the Hazbin Hotel, after all. Follow me.” The door swung open, his long arm gesturing.

Charlie pulled you into a hug, bouncing between “Welcome back!” And “I am so, so sorry you died!” She held your hands in hers, “The hotel has gone through a lot since you left! I have so much to show you. While Alastor has your room b…” her voice carried on, but your mind stayed put. She did jazz hands at every sconce and door frame on the way to the lobby.

You had expected it, your death. You figured there was a 50/50 chance you didn’t make it out of that forest. But that didn’t make this moment any less surreal. You looked down at your body, yours but new. Your hands came to your head, fingers climbing up your skull until you found them. Two soft, tulip petal shaped ears. Were you going to be sick? The room began to spin. Charlie’s voice underwater. Was some detective going to knock on your parent’s door? Carrying a folder with your photo and bad news? Your eyes clenched at the image, your heart ballooning in your chest.

“Maybe she needs to take a rest,” his voice cut through the waters of your confusion, a spear straight to your psyche. His hand slipped up your arm, resting on your back. You shook your head, eyes blinking wildly. 

“It’s fine. Please, Charlie, continue your tour.” You took an exaggerated step to your left, out from under his touch. You thought you heard him sigh. Why was he being so kind? The last time you spoke you were staring daggers at him while he carried on about doing exactly what he had promised.

Charlie excitedly presented the lobby to you, the bar, the library. Alastor walked a few feet behind you both, quiet, his shadow dancing down the hallway in front of you. It’s mouth flipping from grin to grimace and back as it watched you nod along to every detail Charlie felt you should know.

The newest addition to the hotel since you left, a large indoor pool on the second to top floor. You lingered there, watching the water reflect pink and red light from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pentagram City.

“Almost done! To the left is Dad’s studio. He comes and goes. Ya know, parent stuff.”

You tried to mask your concern for whatever damaged parent-child relationship she was referencing.

“And to the right is Alastor’s radio station.”

You glanced to the demon, standing near the wall, inspecting his nails. “I didn’t know he had a radio station. I just assumed-,” You shrugged, “He just sounded like that.”

Alastor felt his bottom lid of his left eye twitch involuntarily. Why were you speaking like he wasn’t there?

He bit his tongue, literally. He needed time to think, to plan how to handle this situation. Your death was early and therefore unexpected for him, too. Not nearly as surprising, though, as your loss of memory of him.

He knew though, maybe this was for the best. If you were here, if he could see you around the hotel, perhaps that desire to have you near would die down. His shadow shifted behind him before sinking into the floor. Yes, exactly. This was a good thing. His eyes glanced to you, to your little doe features, two ears and a tiny fluff of a tail. His jaw tightened, had you done it on purpose? What did it mean?

”Would you like to see it?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, because he hadn’t realized he was going to say it until it was done.

Yes. “No thank you.” You wanted to run face first into the wall. It felt like your ribs were twisting off your spine. One side lurched up—- touch him. He wants you, he felt so good. Get him alone. The other side pulling down—- fuck him. He owns you, he’s a demon. Stay away from him.

His ears turned back and down, folding into his skull. You tried to keep your face neutral as you stared back at him, breathing teetering on panting. Every time you looked at him you were in danger of spilling your guts. 

“Well!” Charlie slid into the tense air between you two, nervous chuckles, “That makes sense! Because Al’s station is super off limits. So. Uhh where was I going with this.” She looked around, “Is the room ready, Al?”

He nodded, leading you both to the elevator and a few floors down. 

“This floor is for our more precious residents. Not that every soul isn’t precious! But ya knooow,” she opened your door, “You’ve got Angel, Husk, Niffty, sometimes Cherri Bomb, and Alastor as neighbors!”

Yippee. You get to lie awake knowing the object of your fucked desire is just past an easily smashed wall.

There was a moment where you all three looked at each other. Charlie becoming more and more fidgety as the seconds ticked on.

“Sooo, We should let her rest, like you said, right Alastor?” Charlie began a dramatic walk to the bedroom door, taking big steps with high knees.

You needed to do this and let it be. “Actually, may I have a moment, Alastor?”

Always, Yes. “I suppose I have the time, my dear.” He twirled his microphone stand before settling it behind his back. Charlie wanted to ask you if you were sure, but the tension was rising again. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed as she went.

Alone. Again. There was a feeling in the air, like you would either fuck or fight. Was it an animal thing? Or was it always there?

“I never got to thank you.”

His stomach turned, he couldn’t bear this again. Please, stop thanking him. Smile straining, struggling to keep it together, he nodded, “Whatever for?”

You had a strange feeling, a familiarity to the conversation. Ah, that was right. Would this end the same way as your dream? With you on your back? “You were — true to your word.” You fiddled with the comforter of the bed, avoiding looking at him. “You were gentle and you got me home safe and sound. I didn’t thank you. I was just so-,”

“Full of misplaced rage?” His head tilted to the left, eyebrows high.

“Just rage, would have been fine. It was an unfair situation that you helped get me out of.”

Alastor watched your face, only sadness to be found. Not a sight he took any pleasure in. “Well you should truly thank Angel Dust. He is the one who brought me to you, desperate to help you. Even offered me his soul! Not that it’s his to give.”

No one had told you. “Oh,” genuine surprise, “Thank you for that. Yeah, I have to thank him. I’d probably still be in Valentino’s—,” the light of the lamp beside the bed flickered, “studio.”

Looking at you, Alastor couldn’t decipher the feeling in his chest. Relief, sure. Shock, yes. But behind that, a strange tugging beneath his sternum. A pain, vague and nebulous floating over his chest. Why did you come back so soon? Why did you die so early? He wanted to ask you so many things, but if you didn’t retain any memory of your time with him, he doubted he would like the answers.

“I’m going to finish my mental breakdown now, thanks for the tour and uh, the information.” Scratching awkwardly at your arm, you went and opened the door. He paused a moment before moving. “I would like to see your radio station, sometime. If you’d want to show me.” He nodded and left. The room felt colder now, deader.

Your night went exactly how you anticipated, lying awake in the plush red blankets of your new home staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you slept, if you’d see him again. Thoughts of the overworld, family, connections. Little fits of rest came but nothing more than 30 minutes here and there. 

Alastor paced his room until dawn, an animal in an unlocked cage. When you had appeared, dead and truly in hell, he thought you’d come to see him. He was embarrassed to even think it now, he had believed you wanted to be with him in earnest.  As comfortable with his company as he was yours. He cradled his head, again he felt himself succumbing to the enjoyment of others. He had accepted it with you, more so than the rest, and now it was a weapon in your hands. He felt like an idiot. And he hated it. What a fool, to think you’d died to get home to him. A growl rising in his chest. Home. He desperately wanted to see Rosie, to vent the situation and find clarity. But the idea of leaving you alone in the hotel irked him. He couldn’t put his finger on why. Maybe you wouldn’t be here when he returned. He could always summon you with your connection to him, but he wanted you to be there, with him, of your own volition or he didn’t want it at all.

If you’d forgotten entirely, he had two courses of action. To start over, or to let it die. 

He looked to his bed, remembering you lying there. Sleeping, peaceful, content. Safe. Alastor turned to the wall, knowing you lied just beyond the wallpaper and sheet rock in your own deathbed, alone. The out of place physical need for you was something he struggled with, but whatever feeling this was — far worse. You were his, yet he couldn’t have you. Couldn’t possess you in the ways he’d grown accustomed to the past year. Starting over felt tedious. But this wasn’t a feeling that would die, he knew that. He could feel that by how deep the roots of his despair sunk into his soul when you looked at him like a stranger. 

He didn’t rest that night, and neither did you.

Maybe it was the deal, the connection between you and him, but no matter where you were in the hotel you could feel him. A sixth sense, his presence always on your radar. A small part of your brain power was always on him, focused on the idea of Alastor. You wandered the halls until the others woke, feeling that little string between the two of you. Taut, strong.

When you found Angel that first morning back, you took a seat beside him in the lobby. 

“Alastor told me you are why I got help. From Valentino.” You tried your best to maintain eye contact, not getting distracted by his arms.

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart. I kinda did it for myself, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep again if I just let it happen. I’m a freak but I ain’t sick in the head like Val.” He locked his phone, turning to you, “So do you always start passin’ out mid-convo or does Charlie’s voice just do something to ya?” 

You groaned, “Did she tell you that?”

“Well she panic-sang it, real worried about you. Did you get settled in yesterday?”

“I didn’t sleep, now that you mention it.” Angel laughed, taking you by surprise, “What?”

“Oh I’m sure you didn’t. Not with your co-star next door.” He winked, “I’m sure you’re happy to be here in the flesh.”

“Ugh I forgot about that. Did -,”

“Everyone see it? Yeah you’re a minor celebrity.” You took a throw pillow and screamed into it while he spoke, “But hey! At least you don’t gotta worry about crazy fans. Smiles will keep ‘em at bay.”

“Why would he do anything for me?” Pillow still over your face, you groaned, “I’m just a soul on his roster.”

“Ha I don’t think he treats just any soul the way he’s been treatin’ you. I think Husk would tell me.” Angel kicked his feet, “What a mental image! Does he have pubes? I feel like he does but they’re like, sharp? Like hostile somehow?”

Pillow down, “Ew, Angel! Hostile? How the fuck would I know?”

Angel stopped, wide eyed, “Oh is it a secret? Is that part of the deal?” A sinister giggle, “You can tell ole’ Angel Dust. We’re pals, remember? You technically owe me.” His many fingers poked at your sides, goading you.

You scrunched up your nose, swatting at his hands, “Angel, what are you talking about?”

His smile fell, now side eyeing you, he opened his mouth to ask you to stop playing coy when he heard you all those nights in Alastor’s room when Charlie burst into the lobby. 

“I am so sorry! I didn’t tell you about the redemption activities!” She tossed papers onto the coffee table, “Alright, plan Stairway to Heaven!”

Angel sat back, bored the juicy gossip had to wait, your attention fully occupied by Charlie’s sketches.

Alastor watched you from the second floor balcony. Over the next few days he would always be watching, either from the shadows or out in the open. Looking at you, that carnal hunger was gone. He felt no overpowering desire to be surrounded by you. But, now and then, you’d make a small noise or sigh and he would feel a little twitch. A muscle memory reaction to you

Where the need to touch you had faded, he instead found an insatiable hunger to be near you. He had thought it would be better, you at the hotel. But it had become worse. The further you were, the more undone he felt. It baffled him. So, he stayed near. You were almost always within earshot or eye sight. If not, he at least knew where you were. He could focus on the hotel and his plans for Charlie only then. 

You never looked at him, it was obviously on purpose. Even when he would take a seat beside you or across from you, you’d manage to glance everywhere but directly at Alastor. By the fourth day, he felt like he was going to snap. It was beginning to feel disrespectful. 

That fourth night when you again couldn’t sleep, you found yourself at the edge of the pool. Did people in hell swim? You’d been there for nearly two hours and not a single sinner appeared. It was well past midnight, though.

The entire room was tinged pink, shadows a pretty red. The water itself looked like a sea of rose quartz. You didn’t have a bathing suit. You didn’t have anything now that you thought about it. Nevertheless, you slipped into the water and let yourself float from the edge.

What a familiar feeling, floating. The ceiling shimmered with the water’s ever-moving reflection. Mind reeling back to the green glow casting your shadow on the ceiling of Valentino’s studio. You closed your eyes, you were always sinking it seemed. Sinking out of consciousness, into a another dream, out of the woods and into the bedroom of your captivator. The only times you felt weightless— ah, right. Body held up by shadows, cameras rolling. Under him, beneath the stars, sleeping form disconnected from your mind. It was always with him. You wondered for a second if you could sleep like this. What would happen if you drowned. Could you drown?

The carpet soaked with every step you took, your body sopping wet, clothes heavy with pool water. You were dragging your bare feet to the elevator when you saw a light coming from the ajar door to Alastor’s radio studio. 

He was looking over papers, monocle resting on his cheek. Alastor turned to you, taking note of your shoes in your hand and wet hair. Your ears were heavy with water, fine fur drooping with the weight. “You look like a drowned rat, my doe.”

“Don’t call me that,” you wiped your hair from your face, “I can’t sleep.”

You never struggled to sleep in his bed. “What did you do when you couldn’t sleep on earth?”

Your life already felt far in the rearview, either the effects of sleep exhaustion or your time in the underworld, “I slept… really well. Not a sleepless night I can remember.”

Alastor only hummed a response. Because all of your sleepless nights were here, with him. 

“Why are you working?”

“Why are you swimming?”

“I just told you.” Your brows knitted, was this a conversation or a riddle.

Ever present smile beamed back at you, “Well then take a guess!”

You stared at him, sitting at his curved desk with all his switches and buttons. Papers here and there. Just smiling at you. “Cool, thanks for the waste of time.” You turned to leave when you heard a low sound coming from his chest.

“Why do you speak to me like that? Avoid me?” He stood, hair sharp and standing at attention, “What have I done to you to deserve your disgust?”

“Nothing! That’s-,” the problem, “I’m just tired. I don’t feel right, like I misplaced something. There’s a nagging feeling, maybe something I forgot in the overworld.”

Alastor closed the gap between you two, “I can assure you everything you need is here.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah. Of course.” Turning to leave, his clawed hand reached for your wrist. Pulling you back, your wet clothes were now soaking into his suit.

His free hand took your chin and made you look up at him. Alastor’s red and pink eyes stared into yours, grin wider than you remembered seeing it before. You fixed your gaze on the desk behind him. “Look at me.” His voice cracked with a static interference. Your eyes finally came to his, your hand now holding his wrist just below your chin. “Don’t you dare look away.” He saw it, a flash of recognition flit across your now wide eyes. There was a pulse of electricity to your core, your body remembering his voice, those words, like an activation phrase. How did he know? Your thighs rubbed together, feet barely touching the ground as he held you close.

When his lips crashed into yours, you melted for a moment. Your body relaxed into him, a small whine slipping from your mouth to his. But then something in you snapped back, remembering he was a stranger holding your leash. You pulled his hand from your face with ease as your feet came back to the ground. Tugging your wrist free, you opened your mouth to yell at him, nothing but heavy breathing came out. Again, he reduced you to speechlessness. You glanced at his face before turning; he looked wounded.

You thought you heard his shoes shuffling along the carpet as you rushed into the elevator. A bang, a thrash, echoing down the elevator shaft as you descended to your floor. 

Did he think because you acquiesced to sex before, somewhat under the pressure of a worse fate, he could just kiss you anytime he wanted? Did he see you as a toy? 

Maybe being a toy would be nice. Maybe a good fuck would let you finally sleep. He did hit all the right places, those shadowy appendages never letting a single need go ignored…

You slammed your door shut, angrily peeling off your clothes. No, you weren’t a possession. You weren’t an object to be taken off the shelf at his convenience. No matter how much your body ached for his clawed hands and thin waist, you wouldn’t lower yourself to being under him. Not metaphorically, therefore not physically. You curled onto your bed, naked, body humming for him. Sleep came in pieces, fractured moments of rest.

“You look like shit.” Angel greeted you when the sun finally rose and everyone mulled around the hotel. You waited until you were sure the lobby bar wouldn’t be empty, you didn’t want to run into him alone. 

“How do you fucking sleep in this place? All night just screams and moans from the city.” You rested your cheek on the bar, “Husk, something with orange juice that’ll make me forget where I am, please.”

“The moans are my favorite. Speaking of moanin’ in the night-,” Angel was cut off.

“Get used to it. You sold your soul to a psychotic dick. Welcome to the club,” Husk’s tone was harsh, tilting into sardonic as he slid your drink to you.

With a huff, you sat up, “Don’t compare us. You sold your soul. I—,” you searched with your hands for the word, “was guilty of having a colossal cunt of an aunt.” A deep sip of your drink, “Fuck, he only got my soul because he made a deal with a different demon for it. Soul traded in like a used car. I’m the Kia Sorento of hell.”

Husk grumbled, “Yeah well, either way. Might as well get comfortable. We’re here for the long haul.”

Angel put a hand out to shut up Husk, scooting his stool closer to you, “So like— did Mister Wrong-Kinda-Horny have you killed?” His eyes went to your ears and back, “Is that why ya came back a little lady deer? Some kinda sex thing?”

You downed your drink and gestured to Husk to refill your glass, speaking to Angel without looking at him, “Why would he do that?

He grabbed your bar stool and swivelled you to face him, leaning in even closer, “Well, ya know…” his eyebrows raised up and down, ready to finally get the dirty details, “because ya-,”

“My little doe, just who I was looking for.” His sudden appearance startled all three of you. He was ready now, to pin down your fate. Were you going to stay at the hotel permanently or not? With his supervision or without?

“Why does everyone keep interruptin’ me?!” Angel slammed his hand on the bar.

On impulse, your own hand formed a first, “Stop calling me that!”

Alastor laughed, unhinged, a finger wiping a tear from his eye. Still, the attitude with which you spoke to him surprised him, “Oh? Why should I? You are a doe,” his microphone gestured to your head, “And your soul belongs to me. If I remember correctly, so does your body.” His eyes darkened, back bent as he came to your eye level, “But I always have video evidence if you’re unsure of the details.” 

You lifted your glass and cocked your arm back to throw it but stopped. Alastor was grinning, something in his stare egging you on. He was loving this. Finally you were paying some attention to him. You were looking right at him.

Setting the glass back down, you left your stool and slipped past him, “Lucky for you, radio demon. It’s all you have anymore.” You had decided you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying his name.

Husk sunk beneath the bar, Alastor’s antlers expanding as his eyes became overtaken with black. Angel scrambled over the counter to join the cowering bartender. Alastor whipped around, spine cracking and stretching. You were in the elevator for another quick escape when you turned and saw him gaining on you, his mouth nearly unhinged, teeth sharp and numerous. His body contorted to get his truly demonic face in your eye line, back bending in half to drop his head down, “What did you say?” The air around him seemed to bend and shake, the hiss of a misaligned radio station biting at your skin.

Your finger was shaking as you pressed the ‘close door’ button repeatedly, wetting your lips you found your foothold in anger again, “Fuck you.”

You didn’t recognize the sounds you heard just past the hollow elevator doors. Something between a screech and a wail. Not a sound you’d heard any deer make before.

Shakey knees and legs melting to jelly barely carried you to your room. You collapsed against the door as soon as you entered, locking it. Not that it mattered, you knew that.

A knock shook the wood and made you yelp.

“It’s me!” You recognized Angel’s voice, “Let me in.”

He fell into your room, hair a mess and eyes wide, “I don’t know where he went but he left the hotel. Jesus Christ you have balls of steel.” He fixed his hair, adjusting his chest fluff, “Or are a total idiot.” He saw the tears swelling in your eyes, gears shifting immediately, “Oh shit, sorry. You okay?”

You shook your head no and crumbled to the floor, “I haven’t fucking slept more than three hours a night in like, five fucking days. I’m going crazy.”

“I don’t know why ya’ll are fightin’ but can’t Alastor help you out? Ya’ll are close, maybe a night in his bed will set you straight.”

Your tears streamed down your face, “Angel! What are you talking about?! You keep saying shit like we’re friends. The closest I’ve been to him was in my fucking wet dreams!” You curled into the fetal position on the carpet, exhausted, scared, confused. You’d never seen something as skin-crawling as his full demonic form. But a part of you was mesmerised by the transformation. A sick part of you, you decided.

Angel lied down beside you, facing you, eyes blinking. One of his hands wiped at your tears, “What exactly happened after you went home?” 

You sniffled, “I couldn’t get him out of my head. I wore your robe. It smelled like you.” 

He laughed, “I wondered where that thing went.”

“I started having these dreams, just—- really fucked dreams of him.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed, “fucked how?”

Your wanted to hide your face but didn’t have the energy to move your arms, “He fucked me in the woods like his life depended on it. Best sex of my life, in my own imagination. Naturally.”

Angel sat up, he didn’t know what to ask first, “best sex?? Sorry- no. Fuck, uh, you had dreams about fucking the Radio Demon? You two never… met up?”

You rolled onto your back, shaking your head, “If he could have visited me, he never did. Trust me, I looked for any sign.”

“Uh huuuuh.” Angel nodded, “Well. His extra weird attitude makes more sense. He’s been super creepy, always just popping’ outta shadows and shit. More than usual.”

Angel looked over you, crying softly on the floor. He considered telling you, but if Alastor hadn’t he figured it was best he stay out of it. Lest he be the one fleeing into elevators.

“Have ya considered actually fucking him?” Angel couldn’t believe he was recommending anyone fuck Alastor, but it seemed like maybe it’d actually do you good.

“Why would I do that?”

Angel looked annoyed, “Because you wanna fuck him?! Get it out of our system?”

“Yes and I sometimes wonder what it would be like to drive into oncoming traffic. We all have the call of the void. He—,” you thought about the kiss, “I feel like it’d just make it worse. I’d want more.”

Angel showed you his phone, “He’s apparently eating sinners in the doom district, so, it’s your call. But maybe a good bang would get you both to chill out.” He scrolled, “Fucking hell. The best sex, of your life? Have you not had much sex or-?”

You crawled up to your bed and plopped your now heavy body down, “Angel.”

“Do you have some weird kink? Is it just really big?”

“Angel!”

“Does he go full demon and his peni-,”

“ANGEL.”

He spun his head around to look at you, “I wanna respect your boundaries but I will actually die again if you don’t explain this shit to me.”

Settling back, you groaned, “I’ve never felt so needed before. He held onto me like he couldn’t breath unless I was under him. But you see him, you’ve been here. Does that sound like him?”

Angel sat beside you, “Honestly didn’t know he knew what sex was until you came here so” he leaned back, two arms holding him up, “You guys are pretty fucked up.” You nodded. “What did he say, when you told him about the dreams?”

“Didn’t really come up.” You rolled your eyes.

He patted your thigh, “Got it. You’re gonna owe me like, a metric shit ton of drugs.” Angel pushed off the bed, waving as he left, “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” 

You sat up, staring curiously at where he had just been. Tomorrow? It was only 9am

.

Angel spent several hours in the lobby, pretending to read and socialize with residents. He jumped from the chaise lounge as soon as he saw Alastor walking into the hotel, “Hey uh, I know you know I think you’re a freaky fuck, but I wanna just say it sucks real bad and I’m sorry.” Alastor didn’t reply or even stop walking, Angel having to jog to keep pace.

“I mean, if my fuck buddy thought our bumpin’ uglies was all just dreams I’d be super fuckin’ bummed too.” Alastor became so still so quickly that Angel nearly fell over trying to stop his momentum. He waved his hand in front of Alastor’s face to make sure he was still conscious, “uhh anyone home in there?”

Alastor’s eyes flicked to dials, residents looking up warily as the power flickered and the space seemed to distort around them, “Explain, quickly.”

“She told me this mornin’! She thinks all those nights you were bangin’ her brains out — which, from one porn star to another, sounded top notch from my room — we’re just horny dreams. She’s all fucked in the head about it.”

Alastor melted into his shadow and slinked down the hall and up the walls, leaving Angel behind, “You all owe me!”

You heard footsteps suddenly advancing on you down the hall. Spinning around, your nose nearly brushed against his, Alastor’s face already down to your level.

He leaned in to you, his mouth hitting against your cheek, “I need to speak to you in my room, dear.” His voice was clearly not asking you. 

Your blood ran cold, goosebumps dancing down your neck and arms. “Why would-,”

“Now.” His arms wrapped around your waist, you pushed him away and turned to walk off but stopped. You weren’t in the hallway anymore. A bedroom. With a haughty laugh you turned to spit venom at him for such a dirty trick.

 As if expecting it, he cut you off, “They weren’t dreams, my doe. It was astral projection.” He took you by the shoulders and pointed your entire body at the forest scene melting into his room. Had it always been there? You couldn’t remember seeing it before, when you arrived in hell. Just him and his smile.

You felt the blush rise from your toes to your ear tips. Both hands came to your face, desperate to hide your existence from the situation.

You remembered that grassy clearing, the tree line. Peaking in and up, you saw the starry sky you spent so many nights moaning into.

“Why-,” your hands balled into fists, “didn’t you tell me?!” You turned to him, face red. You wanted to shove him, to hit him, but your mother taught you better than to lay hands on someone first. You finished fights, not started them.

Alastor smiled down at you, like he always did, “I thought you had no memory of our-,”

You cut off him off at the head, “visits.”

He laughed, “spirited visits.” Was that a pun? You groaned.

“I, I thought it was just make believe.” The gentle touches, the sweet names whispered into your skin, the way you could taste him even after you woke. The blush burned your cheeks.

Now that you knew, now that your eyes fell on him once again with recognition, he felt you’d actually answer him, “How did you die?” 

The question took you by surprise, You thought it was obvious, “I tried to kill a hunter in the woods. Well, I did kill him. But he killed me, too.”

A genuine grin spread across his lips, a cackle, “You killed a man?!” You shouldn’t have been so proud, but he looked so impressed, “Tell me every detail. Who was he to you?” Alastor’s hands came to your arms. You remembered last night, pulse quickening, and walked to his bed. You took a seat on the end, sinking softly into the plush blankets. Your hand ran over the fabric. 

“My employee’s father.” The fabric was soft, the threads tiny and tight.

Alastor took a seat beside you, legs crossed, “Oh? And why him?”

A hum, “He was a bad man.”

His hand picked up yours, bringing it to his mouth. There was that loss of blood to his brain, something you effortlessly did to him. “Who says?” His own heart picking up pace. You killed. Was it egotistical to think you inspired such a thing? Did you kill for him?

You watched your fingers tremble under his lips, “What?”

“Who says he was bad?”

Your eyes searched the room for an answer, “I think anyone would agree with me.”

His smile reached his eyes, “So you decided? He probably thought he was quite alright.” He turned your wrist over, mouth pressing to your pulse point. “Did you plan it?” Your scent was familiar but different now. Skin still just as soft. He felt himself salivate. Your spell just as strong in death. 

A gulp, all of those walls you struggled to keep standing turned to dust against his smirk. A stranger, a lover. Effortlessly your body shifted into a new gear under his touch. “Yeah, for a week. I waited until I knew he was going to be there. Walked the paths, bought a knife.”

“A knife,” he practically purred, “A favorite. No gun?” He pulled your arm toward him, bringing your whole body into his.

“I wanted something more… personal.”

Alastor buckled slightly, cock jumping in his lap. “You were made to be my undoing. I am sure of it. A cruel joke from heaven to distract me.” His mouth found your neck next, little nips before he chose a place and latched, sucking a bruise easily seen by others.

“This is a really fucked conversation, Alastor.” Your body softened, a small sigh coming before you could consider being embarrassed.

“For a ‘fucked’ situation, my dear.” His nose traced along your jaw. “But one you’ll find I quite enjoy.” He placed your hand on his lap. Did he see the face you made? The stupid grin? Your hand squeezed lightly on the length you felt tenting his pants, earning a moan into your cheek. Real. He was real. In your hands, now. No dreams or projection. No fantasies. No little pink toy. “Bear with me, just a little more. You’ll find my … proclivity for such topics quite important for these kinds activities.”

“You’re sick.” You turned, nose to nose smiling still.

He hummed, his own smile spreading, “desperately so.” Your hand gently traced the shape of him through his pants, “Why did you kill him? As opposed to all the other bad men?”

A question you didn’t feel you could answer, “This topic is having the opposite effect on me…” you squeezed him again.

“Fair enough,” he pushed you back onto the bed, leg going over your body to straddle you, “Then tell me how you felt? A compromise.”

How did you feel? When you killed him? “I felt strong.” He repositioned himself between your legs, “I wasn’t scared. I knew I’d succeed or-,”

“Or?” His breathing now a barely strained pant. Say it. Say it and he’ll let himself go completely.

You focused on the canopy of his bed, a red wine color much like his own coat. “Or I’d end up here, with you.” His head fell, forehead resting on your stomach. You looked down to see his antlers larger than before, no longer cute little prongs. “Alastor?”

He wasn’t an idiot. 

Maybe a little roundabout, but you chose him. 

Red dribbled from his chin, mind going foggy as eyes went black. His hands rid you of your clothes with delicate cuts, your body lurched up the bed by wide palms. 

You chose to come back. 

Your hands came down to undo his pants and belt, seeing he probably couldn’t manage himself. As soon as he was free of his clothes, he was rutting into your thigh. “Alastor”, you took his face in both hands, dials flickers to dilated pupils as you got him to focus on you. 

“My little doe.”

You came home.

His head came to rest just above yours, wide and sharp antlers just out of reach. His leaking cock finally found your core, Alastor groaning into the blankets to find you already so wet. Your hands gripped his arms, nails breaking skin in anticipation.

Lined up and impatient, he pushed up into you with unmeasured force. You bit onto the flesh of his shoulder, trying to keep yourself from screaming. In those dreamlike visits, he filled you so perfectly, body molding to him. But now, you were stuffed. With one thrust your cervix was bruised and tender. The tiniest pain bled into the eye-rolling pleasure of having him back in you. With heavy breaths he thrust into you with a need you couldn’t ever remember feeling before. He fucked you like he would die without your moans spilling across his chest. 

And it was true, feeling your soft cunt clenching him so tightly was a need more than anything else. A ray of light at the bottom of the Mariana’s trench. Impossible, and undeserved. You were everything he wasn't good enough to have, wasn’t clean enough of conscience to hold. An angel clipping a wing to dip into hell, you killed to sink back into his arms. Even if you didn’t say it, not yet. He could feel it in you. He had left a deeper impression on your soul than perhaps you had his. You weren’t just his by way of a deal, you corrupted yourself to his level.

He looked down at you, your eyes already wet and unfocused, mouth hanging open as every breath turned into rhythmic moans. Your soul a fresh snowfall, your adoration for him a drop of blood. His eyes shut, mind focused on where you and him merged now. Friction pulling him forward to his climax.

Your body was trembling, his lower stomach rubbing against your already swollen clit. That soft button just past your entrance wasn’t just being pressed, it was smashed against your walls with his shaft. His head dragging past it. You wanted to speak, to express how good you felt, but your tongue was frozen in your mouth. Every inhale became a gasp, every exhale was now a moan. You felt his body tighten, thrusts become shallow as his large head refused to stray far from your womb. Silently, your hands tore into his shoulders as you gripped through your orgasm. The muscles in your jaw now locked. Your legs came to wrap around his hips and draw him in, thighs convulsing as his pace didn’t stop for you to recover.

With an unmistakable mating press, his cock buried itself in your pussy. Balls deep suddenly made more sense as a phrase. Your cervix stung as his body forced more room for itself in you. The way your walls spasmed around him felt debauched, your body starved for him. Hungry as he had been. Alastor felt your soft cunt drowning in his seed and he groaned into your hair. Already spilling out, he didn’t even consider unsheathing himself from you.

You struggled to slow your heart rate, vision blocked entirely with his own heaving chest. As he softened in you, so did his form. Body reconfiguring above you, antlers now small and uncharacteristically cute.

With regained red eyes, he looked at your face. 

“Are you-,” he sighed, “Asleep.” Not a bad future after all, he mused. Watching you sleep. 

He considered wiping you down before placing you beneath his blanket, but it seemed like such a waste. Your head on his pillow, he felt everything in his chest settle. Like a puzzle whose pieces were all right but just not flush, his own damned soul settled flat. Everything snuggly in place. 

One of his large palms came to rest on your head, a familiar place for him now, “Sleep well, darling doe. I’ll be here when you wake.” 

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult: @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1

🎞️ TRDFAHS VHS owners: @leathesimp , @alastors-staff, @howabouticallyou , @myrunawaysweets , @karmakillz , @serendipitous-fernweh , @universal-s1ut , @anuttellaa , @sillyb0nez , @nonamevenus , @fairyv-ice , @nitnat6245 , @alicehasdrowned , @alicebaskervilleposts , @jyoongim , @lunaramune , @christinebloodwrittings , @itszzmoon , @thekanrojimitsuri2 ,

@luna-usagi-chan

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #smut #hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut #radio demon #reader insert #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x you #alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel angel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #reader #x you smut #x you #you insert #x reader #smut fanfiction #fanfic

[bunnysbrainrot]

Blood Flow

Kinktober Prompt: Choking

Relationship: dbf!Joel Miller x Reader

Content: [i was going for something sensual and i failed.] Explicit sexual scenes, fingering, choking, squirting, praise kink, Joel’s kinda rough, teasing. No outbreak AU.

Summary: You curiously tread into the realm of choking, but you have no clue why people think it feels ‘good’. With Joel’s help, you realize that there’s simply a right way to do it.

A/N: pay attention to the last line. it implies exactly what you think it does. **ALSO! part 3 for this is out, it’s called Daddy’s Girl!

this scene is so weird, why is he choking her???

Your fingers flitted across your phone screen, texting as you watch a new show. In this scene, the two main characters finally broke their tension, and things were growing heavy. You watched the actor’s hand wrap around his costar’s throat, watching how her face contorted in bliss.

Cause it feels good, sweetheart, Joel replied.

Bringing your own hand to your neck, you pressed against your windpipe and choked, like really choked, but it didn’t feel like you thought it would. And your face definitely did not make those same expressions as the woman in the show.

Clearing your throat, you replied to Joel. A few years ago, this kind of conversation would earn you an intervention with your parents. This was your dad’s best friend, and you shouldn’t be texting him about being choked, of all things.

But fuck, was texting Joel a wonderful time.

A single message could have you squeezing your thighs together. Every baby girl, sweetheart, and honey was imagined in his voice as if he were there, whispering them into your ear. You would imagine his fingers dancing across your skin as he showered you with those sweet pet names.

tried it on myself, and i can confirm that it feels awful. coughing my lungs out right now

Joel read your text and let out a hearty chuckle, quickly replying back. He knew you were a tad… inexperienced with things like this, and that you wouldn’t ask just anyone about this. He had you wrapped around his finger, as you did him.

Baby doll, you’re probably pressing on your windpipe. It’s a little tricky to do it on yourself

You groaned at the text, still frustrated at your little mishap. The reply you gave him was rather bold, but you anxiously sent it anyway.

maybe you could show me

The two of you had flirted a lot more since you came back home from college. Four years of hard schoolwork had you taking a break back home with your parents to choose your next big step in life. At first it started small - little compliments on your clothes, on your intelligence, on how much you’d come into your own. Your glances at Joel lasted too long to be friendly, and it didn’t help when you ran your foot along his leg under the table at big family dinners.

In short, you were driving each other absolutely wild, pulling the tension taught between you, waiting for it to snap.

But Joel wanted to go slow. This was dangerous territory, and he needed to take his time.

Maybe I could

You stared blankly at the phone screen, reading over the message with a fluttering heart behind your ribs. A wave of warmth spread over you with a beeline between your thighs. You clenched your legs together as you texted Joel back.

right now?

J: Door’s unlocked, I’m just watching TV. If you want to join me we can watch that show you were telling me about

Like an alarm went off you shot out of bed, hurrying to your dresser and closet to find a more impressive outfit. Joel wouldn’t care all that much - he liked seeing you in anything. It didn’t matter how much or little you had on, you were always beautiful to him.

headed out now!

Joel have a swift reply that buzzed in your pocket.

Someone’s eager.

You trekked over to the neighborhood next to yours, practically skipping with each step up to Joel’s house. Thankfully, his daughter, Sarah, would be at a friend’s house this evening, leaving you and Joel all to yourselves.

Joel’s head perked up when he heard you knock. He, almost too excitedly, shot up from the couch and headed to the front door.

He was an effortlessly handsome man. And now, in a simple pair of sweatpants and v-neck shirt, he looked more stunning than ever. For you, it also didn’t matter what he wore - he always looked handsome.

“Hi,” you said, offering him a small smile.

Joel raised an arm and leaned against the doorframe. His lean muscles shifted under his tan skin, hardened by those years under the Texas sun, and caught the light from inside to accentuate his bicep. He caught you ogling, and laughed.

“Sweetheart, I’m not just eye candy,” Joel’s voice was soft after the long day he had, “You comin’ in, or what?”

Your smile widened as you stepped in, dipping under Joel’s arm to step in the living room. He had already closed the blinds preemptively to shield yourselves from any prying eyes. You sat on the couch and waited for Joel to join you.

He slowly made his way over, “So, what show were you watchin’?”

You sighed dramatically, “Well, now it’s just embarrassing. We can watch something else, instead.”

Joel shook his head at your offer, gesturing to the TV, “Not embarrassing at all. ‘Sides, I got a plan for it.”

He snatched the remote from the arm of the couch and chose a spot right next to you. After a series of questions, you began to play the show you’d seen, found the right episode, and played the scene in question.

Joel remained silent the entire time, glancing between you and the TV. His stare bore into you, but it was unclear as to what was going through his mind.

But the scene, to your relief, ended, and the shyness you’d felt could be over. Joel paused the show in the middle of the next scene and finally met your eyes.

“Alright, I think I know where ya went wrong,” he commented. You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“It’s all about controlling the blood flow, not pressin’ on the windpipe. That’s a one way ticket to the man upstairs,” Joel laughed and brought his hand to your cheek, cupping your face carefully. His thumb passed over your cheekbone before he shifted down toward your neck.

He placed his thumb and index finger on either side of your throat, right under your jaw. The pressure was uncomfortable at first, pressing into you in a way that sparked some faint nausea. You cleared your throat and swallowed to dull the feeling.

“Pressin’ here,” his grip tightened, “reduces the blood flow. It’s still a lil’ hard to breathe, but it doesn’t risk your safety.”

A lightness began to creep through you as Joel pressed into your throat. Blackness clouded the edge of your vision, blurring Joel’s features, though you could barely make out a lazy smile.

After a few long seconds, he let go, and you could freely breathe once again. The rush of blood back to your brain throbbed at your temples, though the brief headache was nothing compared to the rush of pleasure it delivered.

To your surprise, the rush went straight to your core, leaving you shifting your legs together.

Joel leaned forward and planted a kiss on your cheek, his voice was a low whisper.

“See? Feels good when someone does it right, don’t it?”

You nodded, still held securely by his hand around your throat. His lips traveled across your face, to your temples, to your jaw, and finally finding your own, flush and fluid with your own movements. Joel tightened his grip again, and the same rush came flowing through. It was tricky to keep kissing Joel at the pace he set. Instead, your mouth slacked open as a moan escaped you, swallowed eagerly by Joel.

He spoke slowly against your lips, nipping at them between his words.

“How is it, baby doll? Still feel good?”

It was wonderful. Had you not messaged him about this, you would’ve been completely in the dark about this whole new world of pleasure. So wonderful, in fact, that you could feel a new slickness in your sex, about to soak into your panties. Instinctively you ground your hips, pathetically pressing your aching pussy into nothing substantial.

Joel moved his other hand lower, raking over your shifting thighs, “Tell me, sweet girl, does it make you feel good down here?”

His hand cupped your clothed sex, pressing against your slit and slowly massaging your core. Your breath trembled as you gave him another nod - a small sign of permission to take things further.

“Joel… Joel,” you whispered, fighting against his grip on your throat. Amidst the rush going through your head you could barely hold onto what he was saying, let alone reply coherently.

His lips had wandered to your jaw, peppering a trail of kisses around his rough fingers, “What is it, baby girl? Tell me whatcha need.”

You choked out your reply, “In.. inside.”

A low laugh danced across your skin, “That’s my girl. Always needing something fillin’ her up. ‘Least when I’m involved, anyway.”

He pressed harder against your aching sex - the abrasion of the fabric turned you into a whimpering mess in a matter of seconds. You needed more. You needed him.

Joel groaned against your skin when you tugged his hand past the waistband of your pants, pushing him lower toward your core.

“Need me to make you feel good, sweet girl?” his voice thrummed through your chest. You nodded, urging your lungs to take in sweet, fresh air amidst the constriction. Joel loosened his grip ever so slightly, letting you catch your breath.

He hummed against your jaw as he adjusted his hand with his fingers teasingly at your entrance. A single finger played with your wet hole, swirling around carefully, not fully giving you what you need. Not yet.

You mewled a slurred version of his name, eyes rolling back when his grip tightened around your throat.

Joel’s fingers didn’t stop, but rather pushed further, sinking past your soaked folds and into your tight pussy. A small whimper from you made him smile, carefully eyeing you as he moved his fingers, curling them up to brush your sweet spot.

“Joel… fu-fuck,” you choked.

His fingers plunged deeper into your warm cunt, curling harshly to draw a long-awaited moan. Until now, Joel hadn’t had the joy of hearing you utter anything above a whisper.

You cried out, straining against his grip, but was sent back to fighting for that sacred blood flow back to your brain.

You brought your hand up to meet the one at your neck, tapping against the back of his hand. A beat passed before Joel realized the mistake. He swiftly released you and cradled your head, slowing his movements between your thighs.

“Sorry,” you rasped, “that was just a little too hard. I couldn’t really make any noise without coughing.”

Joel leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. He broke away with the softest tone you’d heard all night.

“You ain’t got nothin’ to apologize for, honey,” he replied, spreading his kisses to your cheeks. “Got a little too ahead of myself there.”

He kissed you until you were left breathless and panting. By now your lips were plump from the bites and nips Joel had given them.

“Maybe we could try a different position, whaddya say?”

After a beat of thought, you nod in agreement and follow his lead. He removed his hand from your pants, lightly sucking at his soaked fingers, and moaning at your taste across his tongue.

This was the closest he’d been to truly tasting you. Words escaped him as he tried to describe the feeling of heaven on his very lips.

You stood from the couch and watched Joel taste yourself on his fingers. He was completely entranced, and monitoring your every movement as you waited for his direction.

Darkness filled his eyes, “Y’might need to take those pants off, sweetheart. Need a good angle for this.”

Now right in front of his legs, you urged Joel to spread them apart and stood between them.

He took this as a silent request for his help. Joel gave you a smile and sat forward, letting his hands climb up your thighs, taking their sweet time to cover as much of them as he could.

Joel hooked his fingers on your waistband and gently tugged, unwrapping you like it was Christmas morning.

Your bottoms dropped to your ankles, and all was left was your soaked panties, the last barrier between Joel and what he’d wanted to see most. Joel leaned further, leaving a trail of kisses from your mid-thigh to your hip, alternating to the other side. Each touch of his lips set you ablaze. His gentle touches paled in comparison to the heat roiling through your belly, trickling right down to your aching pussy.

At long last he peeled your panties off of you, slowly sending them down your legs until they joined your pants. Your lower half was bare for him now; you were a gift unwrapped, the best present he could’ve asked for.

“Christ,” Joel muttered. His eyes scanned over your half naked form, giving you a curious look at your chest.

He wanted nothing more than to wander up there, letting his hands dip below the fabric and slide up to your chest. Your tits were selfishly hidden from him, with your perfect, perk nipples poking through, enticing him to search for more.

You wrapped your legs on either side of him, pushing Joel back against the couch so you could get into position. His legs stayed spread open, thus making you open yours across his.

Spread perfectly wide for whatever he had planned for you.

Joel cupped the back of your neck and pulled you in for another kiss, working his hands over your thighs in the process. You could feel a couple of damp fingertips from where he’d fingered you before. Those same fingers now crept toward your needy hole, teasing you ever so slowly.

You bucked your hips and positioned them over his hand, whining at the lack of touch.

“Joel, please,” you mumbled, keeping your lips in tandem with his own. Joel grumbled out a reply you couldn’t discern before a hand made its way to your throat.

Joel pressed down on either side of your windpipe to deliver that sweet head rush of elation.

“I’ve got you, baby girl, I’ll take care of you.”

And that, he did. His hands moved with pure greed at your neck and pussy, sending two fingers up into your tight cunt. You cried out against his lips as he slowly pumped into you.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Let it all out.”

You were relieved you could make at least a little noise. It was better than it was at home, where you’d spent countless nights touching yourself, moaning against your hand or a nearby pillow.

But here… here you could cry out as Joel touched you. You could freely show him how good he was making you feel.

You let out a soft whine, but it was not well-received by Joel.

“I wanna hear you, baby.”

A louder moan drew from your throat. Joel’s fingers curled inside of you, pressing into the spongy part right past your entrance. Your walls fluttered gently around his fingers, pulling him in further.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” said Joel, still mumbling against your lips. You offered him a smile, proud that your body was to his liking. It was all you’d hoped for, to be perfect for him.

“Not sure how this little pussy’s gonna handle me, though,” he continued in a cocky voice. “But I think you could do it.”

He curled his fingers harshly, causing you to slur your words together. Something about Joel, and harder, and please.

“Such a good girl. Bet you’d take anything I gave you, huh?”

You nodded slightly, constricted under his grip to move any further.

Joel pushed his fingers deeper, picking up his pace until the wet sounds of your ravaged cunt filled the room. Your juices flowed from your pussy and onto his hand, leaking down from his fingers to his palm, pooling your sweet slick before it trickled to the floor below.

His pace became relentless, though the grip on your throat loosened. You let out a shuddering moan as he furiously pumped his fingers, making your cunt squelch with the most obscene sounds you’d ever heard.

“Attagirl,” Joel praised, “Just keep still. I gotcha.”

The reassuring tone kept you conflicted - it totally contrasted from what he was doing to your body.

Fuck, if this is how it was with just his hands alone, you silently prayed that you could handle what else he could give you.

There was a new tightness in your abdomen, pooling around in your sex, but it was a deeper sort of pressure you’d never felt. It felt like…

“Joel,” you protested, “I think I gotta pee.”

He laughed against your lips, “Just work with me here, darlin’.”

You squirmed on his hand as this new sensation spread through your pussy. This kind of pressure wasn’t something you could’ve gotten from your own hand, let alone any toy.

No, this was the masterful work of Joel Miller’s fingers, unraveling you around him.

He struck deeper, twisting his wrist to get a better angle, curling each thick digit against your sweet spot. You choked on a gasp as the pressure in your abdomen built, threatening to break apart.

With a flurry of swift motion the tension broke, and a beautiful symphony sounded - the rush of your juices that poured onto his hand, the strangled moan that fell from your slacked mouth, followed by the pleased groan Joel drew out.

“What… hah… was that..?” you panted. Joel kissed your cheekbone as he worked you through your high.

“Did I just… did I sq-“ you could barely make out the word.

“You did. And you did such a good job, sweet girl.”

The praise roiled through your gut. A soreness flooded through your sex, trailing toward your cervix. You swallowed nervously at the thought of anything bigger, and what it could do to your insides.

Joel slowed his pace and released the hand that had been trained to your neck. You both worked through your climax, coming down smoothly to where you now laid slumped against Joel’s chest.

His hands still roved over your skin, gently kneading your ass and thighs as you caught your breath.

“How you feelin’, honey?” his Southern drawl intoxicated his words with a sickly sweetness.

You pressed your face into the crook of his neck a let out a small, content mmm, taking in his scent. The mix of his cologne and sweat sent something possessive through you, to have this all for yourself. It felt too selfish for that pining to be one-sided - for you to want him as much as you did, without knowing if he held the same ferocity about you as you did him.

“Thirsty.”

“I bet. That’ll take a lot outta ya - let’s get a glass of water and getcha cleaned up.”

You worked your legs off of his thighs and stood shakily. After sitting in that awkward position and having your senses scrambled, your knees buckled beneath your weight, desperately trying to hold your quivering thighs steady.

“Hold on, sweetheart, I’ve gotcha,” Joel said, swiftly standing on steady feet. You pouted at the unfairness - his hands tore at your sex and left you trembling while he was perfectly fine.

“You better not laugh at me,” you snapped, though the drained tone in your words had Joel chucking slightly.

He held you steady with both hands and led you toward the kitchen, “You look like you got a hip replacement.”

“You’re nearing that age, aren’t you?” you quipped. Joel gave you a firm smack on your ass as his reply.

“Better watch it, I don’t do well with brats.”

hi y’all! thank you so much for reading and supporting, and happy Kinktober!

If you’re looking for the part 3 of this, it’s called Daddy’s Girl! I would love if you gave it a read

ily xoxo

#fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #dbf!joel #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou #bunny writes #kinktober #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #supernatural #pedro pascal

[silvershiningtarot]

🧸Pac: Message From Your Divine Masculine & Feminine 💪❤️🍂

Disclaimer: this is a channeled message from your Divine Masculine and Feminine and see what kind of message they had to say to you guys. Enjoy! Remember this is a general reading.

Pile 1🫢 Pile 2🤞

Pile3🫂

🫶🏾❤️🫶🏾❤️🫶🏾❤️🫶🏾❤️🫶🏾❤️🫶🏾

“Hey, You! This is your husband. I'm gonna come out and say it. I'm kinda little jealous. I'm looking at someone else's success. Sometimes I be wondering how the fuck they got it and I didn't. That shit should be me. So I am trying to build up my business and seriously, be fucking jealous baby. But whatever though. Don't be like me. Baby, please, be better than me don't look at other people's success thinking or wishing that was you. Nah, you don't want their success because you don't know how they got theirs. I am your divine masculine. I dealt with a lot of bullshit from people who tried to knock me down. But I fought my way back up. I keep my head on my shoulders. I am my boss. I am an honest man/woman. I take accountability for my mistakes because I dealt with a lot of dishonest people in the world. I don't fuck with liars. I can't stand them. It frustrated me. So I know you are dealing with a lot of karmic friends and those people are lesson-learns. Don't worry about that contract is done with these friends of yours. I'll be there standing by your side making sure that these assholes don't touch you. That's right, I am your bodyguard, and if anyone has a problem with it then guess what I'll knock their head off their bodies. I dealt with a lot of bad friends in my life who stole from me and continued to say they loved me. Like the fuck! Wack! Forgot those bastard babies. You are so much better than that. Your aura and energy are perfect for them. So let's move on. I've made some mistakes in the past. That is unforgiven. Even I believe myself is unforgiven. But all the mistakes you've made and that I have made will help us grow to become better. But I am willing to change my attitude and my mindset on love ❤️. So, baby, we can do that together. I can feel it in your soul that you are willing to change your life and mindset. Here is my surprise to you. Will you marry me? I will get on one knee for you and ask you in front of the whole world that I will marry you. Do you fantasize about our wedding? Because I do. I would want to take the next step with you. Okay, whoever cyber-bullying you let me know. I will bust their head wide open. My advice to you is that don't listen to people and their bullshit. People love being happy in misery. So take my advice and focus on yourself and our future together. Imagine our wedding together. Once we do meet, baby, we will start our life together. You and I are each other’s new beginning. Remember us and where I'll be your new beginning your fresh start. We all need something new. My Queen to be as my forever. Don't ever tell me never. I promise you I'll make your life wild. I'm already crazy about you, my love. If you find me attractive then that's cool with me too. Yes, I have a big egotistical issue but I am working on it.

🍂❤️‼️🍂❤️‼️🍂❤️‼️🍂❤️‼️🍂‼️❤️🍂‼️🍂❤️‼️

“Okay, I know you think I do flirt with a lot of females and males. But that's just my nature. I am a charmer. I am a friendly kind of person. But with you, you are something special. You make me work for you. There are times I don't like that but other times, I fuck it with heavily💪. You put me on a whole different level than I ever experienced in my life. I have a little message for you, I'll be the type to bring you flowers even if you don't like flowers I'll change your mind about it. I'm starting something new in my life. I had to walk away from a situation that wasn't meant for me. I'm ending a lot of cycles in my life. I'm planning on relocating somewhere else. Maybe, closer to you. I want to clear my mind and move forward. I'm working on healing my inner child and watching a lot of cartoon movies and shows 📺 to heal my wounds. I feel that you and I will watch a lot of movies together. I know you need to heal your inner child as well. Watch some movies and cartoons shows whatever makes you happy. Shit, I'll watch it with you. That's not a problem with me. I feel that you need to pay close attention to your inner child. They need some attention. I have been feeling so lost. I went through some shit that I felt that nobody wouldn't understand. Because I felt stupid, unloved, and not heard. I didn't work on myself so now I'm trying too. I know you probably dealt with toxic connections whether it's a relationship, friendship, or family relationship. If that shit is toxic for you then might as well, get the fuck out of it. I dealt with a gaslighter and manipulated people in my life. I'm still going through it. I don't want you to go through it. Because I don't want you to feel lost or lose yourself for someone else bullshit. It just fucking lame to me. Excuse my language. I know it. I'm still dealing with a toxic relationship. I'm trying to move forward but my ex keeps coming around and I'm still in a relationship. Don't be as stupid as me. I keep getting heartbroken by her/him but I'm trying.”

🌸👏🏽🌸👏🏽🌸👏🏽🌸👏🏽🌸👏🏽🌸💐🌸👏🏽💐🌸👏🏽💐🌸💐🌸💐🌸💐🌸💐🌸👏🏽💐🌸👏🏽💐🌸

“Hey, Baby do you hear me calling? I don't want no drama. Because you're my darling. I'm sorry, my Goddess. I've been hard on myself lately, a lot of fears have been creeping on me. I don't know how to confront someone. Got any advice? I'm afraid to talk to you sometimes I feel that you are going to reject me. I dealt with a lot of false mask people. Some of my friends aren't showing who they are and my ex-lover is mine. I think I've been betrayed. I don't have time for it. My heart has been shattered plenty of times. I am just ready to move on with my life. Are you? I know you probably have unfinished business with your ex and so do I. But I am manifesting new love in my life. I want that new hope so I can have a fresh start with you. Can you believe me when I say it? I fantasize about having good sex with you. I wanna fuck your brains out. I wanna blindfold you and feed you strawberries 🍓. I wanna put all kinds of fruits around your lips and put them in your mouth 👄. Your tongue is sexy. Can I lick it? It’s just this ex won't leave me alone. They won't back off me. Every time I've tried to move on she/he always pops back up. What am I curse? Do you feel the same way? Like don't you wish that we could just open our eyes and then we just ended up in each other’s lives? That would be fucking fantastic. Haha 😂 anyway, how are you? Have you been eating? Are you eating healthy food and water? I hope that you are because your body is important to me 💔 your health is important to me. I want us to watch our children grow up and watch our grandkids play in our grass while we sit in our rocking chairs. As old people together. You are my rest of my life. Remember that.”

#pac reading #tarot reading #free tarot reading #tarot cards #fs pick a pile #pick a pile #divination readings #intuitive readings #love reading #pac reblog #tarot community #free readings #future spouse #tarotblr #welcome post #tarot sale #pac tarot #pick a card #18+ only #taroteverydamnday

[barbiecrocs]

Handle or Handled

Nanami Kento

tags! brief choking, piv, a mean Nanami, slutty reader, brief mention of masturbation, car sex, degradation (use of slut), orgasm denial, mention of food kink (kinda)

WC. 1651

Barbie's note... Yall, I was kinda lazy with this one, but that don't mean its bad. I like it so that says smth yk. Anyway have fun yall!! kiss kiss

You have no idea what you do to him. Turning on his sadistic switch when you step out of the house in nothing, but a two-piece lingerie set with a sheer cover-up just to water your plants and collect the mail. Your slutty and unassuming look is what makes him want to break you so badly. Did you have no acknowledgment of the corrupt people in the world? The people like him who want to break that pretty face into bits and then make you clean it up naked on your hands and knees. But hey, he wasn’t exactly the nicest guy so why would it matter to him? 

 You prance around in summer wear all year long. Tiny shorts in the winter, then swimsuits in the summer. Did you never get cold? He had to do a double-take when he looked across the street and saw you washing cars for unneeded money. He was sure you just wanted the attention and he was willing to give it to you, pulling up a chair on his balcony with a nice cold beer and taking in the view. Shirt see-through, jean cut-offs up your ass, and these plastic platform sandals that went clickety-clackety up his porch stairs when you came around to bring him cookies. He never ate them, the only thing he ever did was jerk off to them, his grown imagination running wild in hopes that he could just simply bring the cum-clad cookies back over to you and watch you gulp them down with seconds in mind. Seconds that he would gladly serve to you hot and ready.

 Just then the doorbell rang and the suddenness almost made him cum in his pants. He had been holding it back for a while, telling himself that he wouldn't tend to that type of thing right now. If only he knew what the day held for him. 

 He frantically looked around his living room before finding an apron that lay across his sofa. He swung the door open only to find no one, then directed his eyeline a bit lower. You, in a black tank top, jean mini skirt, and your signature black Chuck Taylors, panting as if you were coming down from a high. Your hand rests next to his head on the door frame, your other hand on your hip, and your body covered in a thin sheet of sweat. "Thank god you answered. I desperately need your help. I would've asked the other neighbors, but they either don't like me or are too old. Plus, I think you're the fittest guy here." You stared at him for a second until you realized you hadn't told him what you needed help with. "Oh, right. I kinda need you to help me push start my car." You give him a sheepish smile, that drops when he wipes his forehead in what you assume is frustration and annoyance but is actually him trying to hide a very mischievous and impish grin. "I'm sorry. It's wrong of me to bother my neighbors with my problems. Please forgive me." You begin to turn away for a graceful exit before he puts a hand on your shoulder. "It's fine. I can do it." You quietly cheer as you lead him to your car which was only at the beginning of the block. 

  You hand him a pair of rubber gloves and before you can say a word, he rolls up his sleeves and gets to pushing. A gasp drops out of your mouth from seeing the muscly arms you dreamed about. His strong arms wrapped around your waist as you rode him on your couch. Or him putting you into a choke hold while fucking you from behind and degrading you. You nearly drooled then snapped yourself out of your daydream for being so silly.

 You realize that he was already more than halfway to your house and you get in the car to direct it all the way.

 "Wow Mr. Nanami, you've got big muscles." You yell, driving into your driveway. "Want to touch them?" He flexes, his playfulness catching you off guard. You never suspected him to return your energy or anything of the sort so you lay it on even thicker, trying to see how far you could take it. "Don't think I won't." You both smirk as he puts a hand on the top of your car. "You don't know what you would be getting yourself into if you took that next step." You pull him closer by the pocket of his apron, "I'm a big girl. I think I can handle myself, hop in."

 It's all a haze of bottoms coming off until he's in between your legs with the bottom half of his face soaked from your teased cunt. He had been denying you of your orgasm for the longest, trying to make this encounter last for hours to get you to crumble in his hands. Even five minutes would be enough, but he wants to drag everything out of you for as long as he can. "Nanami..." You groan, taking a while to finish your sentence since you lost your train of thought in the last wave of pleasure. 

 “Please let me cum!” Breaths of air continuously push out your mouth as you grip any and everything closest to you with your eyes shut tight. He shakes his head between your legs, but it goes unnoticed so he nips at your inner thigh, “Look at me, slut.” A gasp leaves your mouth at the drop of his pet name and you lock eyes with him immediately. “That got your attention, huh?” You nod slowly, scared that if you take too much attention away from holding your orgasm, you’ll explode. You almost can’t hold it in even while crossing your legs, "Nanami please, fuck! Let me cum!" Your gaze into his eyes deepens, but he still shakes his head, “I want you to work for it.”

—

 You look back at him from your position on his lap with an unsure and teary expression, only to see him checking out the view of your ass. He scoots the front seat up to tip you forward and catch a glimpse of your wet pussy from behind. "Well, what are you waiting for? Put it in yourself." Your tears are painfully close to spilling out of your eyes. "But Nanami, this position is kinda embarrassing-" You cut yourself off when he spanks your ass, "Did I ask for your input? If it wasn't a question, then I expect you to follow my orders to the T. Embarrassment should be the last thing on your mind when you flaunt around in tiny skirts and tight shirts all year long." Your eyebrows raise vividly and a dopey smile etches onto your face, “So you noticed? Glad to see that my efforts haven’t been overlooked.” A deep and unholy-sounding chuckle erupts from his throat and heads straight to your cunt which now has its own heartbeat. “God, you’re such a fucking attention whore.” He begins to line himself up with your entrance since you stalled on the idea.

 "Nanami, you're so mean." You pout, completely oblivious to his current actions. "I know. You can handle it though." He slams himself into you and you cum instantly with a roar of his name. Your core goes tight, heat rushes over your body, and your legs spazz while your toes bend and flex themselves to take away from your built-up orgasm. The look that Nanami gives you is a mix of disappointment and dissatisfaction and his hand slides up to your neck, “Didn’t I tell you to hold it?” You nod and the hand on your throat makes its presence known with a firm squeeze. ”Fuck. Did you just get tighter?” You hadn’t even noticed it, but another orgasm was starting to build and just as your body was starting to relax into him, you started moving again. The thought of another world-shattering orgasm being around the corner was enough encouragement for you to get moving unlike before. You catch Nanami by surprise with your sudden enthusiasm, but he easily picks up his sadistic and impish demeanor again. Asserting dominance and supremacy by grabbing you by the hips when he feels you tighten even more and working you down onto him faster. Bumpy moans of his name drag out of your mouth as you get worked closer to your release. You open your mouth to beg, but before the words can come out he grants you permission to cum. Heat spreads over your body once more and your fingers dig into the back of your driver seat almost to the point of tearing through the leather. You would’ve screamed his name if not the tightening grip on your neck as he cums with you.

 You both decompress and his hands uncuff your throat and hips. Your hand comes up to your neck and you can’t help but wonder if he left a beautiful bruise for you to wake up to. He sees your caressing and takes it as concern, “Come on, I’ll take you inside and get you cleaned up.” You almost accept his offer and start to gather your clothes until you realize that you still have more juice left in you and wouldn’t mind going for another round. You get back onto his lap and start to grind down on him which instantly provokes a boner. “Oh? Done so soon?” He smirks “Don’t tell me that you’re older than you seem, old man.” Just in that sentence, you unlocked another side of him, apparently, he doesn’t like being called an old man. “You’re making it very hard to be nice.” You show a small smirk and turn around on his lap to where you are facing him, “That’s fine. I can handle it, remember?”

#jjk x reader smut #smut #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #kento smut #jujustu kaisen smut

[cryptidghostgirl]

A/N I have some requests in the chain above this one but wanted to post something that was a stand alone and not a part to another fic I wrote earlier because of how long I have been away. I promise the two requests lined up before this (pt 3 of till death do us part and pt 4 to cover up) will be out soon! Also, this request reminds me of Cinder by Marissa Meyer so there is some mild inspo from that in here (and loose quoting. sorry. I got carried away.).

What it Means to be a Person (Alastor x Cyborg!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Y/n gave an arm and a leg to the fight against the exterminators and feels she has lost her humanity by the bionic replacements Lucifer and Charlie gifted her in return. Alastor reminds her that not all is lost, she can still dance, after all.

Warnings: Hurt//comfort. This might've ended up a little more angsty than intended and I kinda ran away with the prompt. Sorry about that.

Word Count: 2,246

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Alastor Master List 

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

“Imagine there was a cure, but it would cost you everything. What would you do?”

Y/n's question hung in the air of the dimly lit kitchen, echoing off the uncertainties late hours like this one always seemed to carry. Alastor froze where he stood by the stove, his hang halfway to the kettle whistling away upon it. He turned to face her where she sat at the far end of the rough hewn kitchen table, her head in her hands and her hair acting as a curtain, as a shield, hiding her face from view.

The meeting had been an accident. Alastor had found himself craving a cup of tea to accompany his late night preparations for tomorrows broadcast and when he had entered the kitchen, he had found her sitting there. Since the day Y/n had shown up at the hotel in all her bright and wild exuberance, Alastor had felt a connection with the girl. She was bubbly, a showman at heart with a soft spot for the macabre, how could he not automatically find a certain level of camaraderie with her? Everything had changed after the battle with Heaven a few weeks before.

Y/n had fought valiantly, using all her brains and brawn to protect the place she had come to call her home and the people she had discovered to be her family. The battle did not take her life, but she did give an arm and a leg to its hungry fervor. With Lucifer's help, Charlie had managed to get her an appointment with a well known doctor in Pentagram City. The man had given Y/n back her ability to stand, to reach for things, but had taken the mangled remains of her human form in the process. She had been brought back to square one, learning how to walk, to hold a pencil. She had been filled to the brim with wires that allowed her to control her new appendages.

The conversation had been an accident as well. Alastor hadn't meant to open the can of worms he was now sifting through. He had just spotted her sitting there, had casually asked how she was doing. Y/n was always so human, so much more human than he was capable of being. It was the only thing that had ever held him back from taking what he wanted, that wild and irrevocable humanity of hers.

"I would take the cure." Alastor replied after a moment, turning back to the stove and at last lifting the kettle, pouring the hot water into his favorite mug, "It would be better than the alternative."

With a decided intent in his step, he made his way over to her. The legs of the chair scraped dangerously across the floor as he pulled it out and took a seat beside her. Y/n looked up.

Alastor was shocked at what he saw. Y/n had been hiding since the battle, claiming that she was recuperating. No one had any reason to doubt her given the injuries she had sustained but now, Alastor was not so sure. Her eyes were sunken, dark circles dulling the pink of her cheeks. She was silver in the moonlight as it streamed through the window but she did not shine as she normally seemed to.

"I'm not human anymore."

Y/n's voice was cracked and raw, it only made him love her more. Out of all the creatures in Hell, she was the only one who would worry about such a thing, he was sure of it. Alastor had to stop himself from laughing, focusing on the heat of the cup held between his hands.

"You never were. You haven't been in a long time." he mused in response and Y/n sighed.

"I don't feel like a person anymore."

Again, another contradiction. Y/n was a demon, through and through. Not quite an overlord but powerful, well on her way to becoming one. There was nothing human about that in Alastor's eyes. The way he saw it, the moment a soul died they stopped being a person, no matter where in the afterlife they ended up. It was clear she would not agree. They had never talked of such matters before, it was an unexpected revelation. Alastor took a deep breath.

"Why?"

Y/n was silent, her eyes returning to the table as she traced the grains of the wood. It was unlike him, the concern, the curiosity for such an emotional matter. Alastor had long since given up on trying to make sense of the things she provoked in him. He tried again.

"How do you define being human? Is it what you look like? What you're made up of? Or is it who you are."

It was a clumsy attempt. There had been no need to provide comfort for a long time, not since Alastor had been alive. He was out of practice but, he supposed, caring for another was rather like riding a bike. Once you learned how it was done, you never really forgot.

"Who you are but..." Y/n's eyes met his once again, the conflict occuring behind them apparent.

She was unsheltered, the facade was gone. Alastor would consider himself close with the demon, closer perhaps than anyone else at the hotel but still, he had never seen her like this. His heart hurt.

"At the same time," she continued solemnly, "there is more to it than that."

"How do you define humanity?"

Y/n thought for a moment.

"Dancing. Spending time with friends, having people who care about you. Making meals together, reading books and poetry. Making art. Feeling one with the world around you, being a part of the earth we all come from."

Alastor held another laugh at bay. It wasn't out of the blue but, at the same time, there was something strange about hearing the words as they left her lips. He took a sip of his drink, the hot liquid worming its way down his throat and into his stomach.

"Doesn't the fact that you now find yourself to be inhuman at all show at least some of those?"

Y/n cocked her head to the side in confusion, her brow furrowing. Alastor sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"What I mean is that the reason you have those bionic limbs of yours at all is because you have people who care about you enough to get them for you and you cared enough about other people to give up what you originally had. If that isn't having people who care about you, spending time with friends, being one with the world around you, I don't know what is."

"But I am not of the earth any longer." Y/n ruefully replied.

"You are."

"How? I am naught but metal now. I traded steel for skin."

In the weakness of the night breeze, she seemed to slip into the skin she once wore. Flowery language, a posh, nearly transatlantic accent, shoulders straight and strong, all reminders of her upper class upbringing from so long ago. He could almost see her now as she must've been. It was a trick of the light.

"You were buried, right?"

Y/n nodded.

"I believe so. Beside my mother."

"Then you are forever of the earth."

"To the earth we must return," Y/n nodded after a moment in solemn agreement, "but I will never dance again."

Alastor had never even known it was something she had enjoyed. The time for questions was later, he got to his feet, his cup left abandoned on the table.

Alastor summoned his staff with a wave of his hand, leaning it against the sideboard as a soft song began playing from its speaker. Turning to Y/n once again, he offered her his hand. Y/n eyed it tentatively before reaching out her own to grab it.

With a shake of Alastor's head, she halted mid movement. He didn't need words to get his point across, Y/n just didn't like it. Lowering her hand, she raised the other. It was heavier, made from something other than flesh. There was an ungainly sense to the way she moved it. It didn't flow graceful through the air, it was too heavy for that. The metal of her fingers was cold and harsh against his palm as he helped her ineptly to her feet.

"Ella Fitzgerald." she mused softly, her eyes on his microphone.

"I didn't know you liked jazz."

Y/n's eyes met his once again and she gave him a half hearted smile.

"Growing up in the 1930s and being someone who held distaste towards jazz would have been an impossibility, wouldn't you agree?"

He had known she was alive sometime around the turn of the century but, that had been it. Alastor grinned from ear to ear at this subtle revelation.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you."

Letting go of her hand, Alastor took a step back. He bowed. Y/n couldn't help it, she laughed a little.

"What on earth are you doing?"

Alastor looked up at her, still bowing as their eyes met. Slowly, he straightened himself up, holding a hand out to her once again.

"Y/n, would you do me the absolute honor of sharing this dance?"

He had hoped his showmanship would make her smile, make her laugh even, the way it normally did. Instead, she withdrew her arms to her chest, taking a halting step backwards as she shook her head. Alastor's gaze softened. He had never seen her afraid before.

"Please."

"I..."

Y/n's eyes flitted wildly around the room, searching for any excuse, any fodder for her escape. At last, she relented, hesitantly placing her hand back into his own.

"Okay."

Her voice was soft, almost breathless. Alastor pulled her into him, snaking an arm around her waist as she placed her other on his shoulder.

"See?" he asked as they began to dance, "All is not lost to you."

There was nothing elegant about her movements. Y/n grimaced.

"But it is not the same either. Once I was something grand."

"Change is inevitable. You are still someone grand."

"Not change like this."

Alastor spun her out, catching Y/n in his arms as she almost tripped over the weight of her foot.

"Why do you hate it so much? Is it vanity?"

“Vanity is a factor," Y/n admitted, "but it is more a question of control. It is easier to trick others into perceiving you as beautiful if you can convince yourself you are beautiful. But mirrors have an uncanny way of telling the truth and I am not made up of the same materials I once was."

"Change is inevitable." Alastor said again and was overjoyed when Y/n rolled her eyes, smiling slightly as his response, "You're still beautiful, almost more so now."

This took her aback. The tingle of a question at the back of her mind was outweighed by shock. She stilled, still pressed close to Alastor as the music filtered softly into their ears.

"What?"

"Before you shined, but just on the inside." Alastor admitted, refusing to look away from her wide eyes even as he felt the heat rush to his cheeks, "Now you do on the outside as well, see?"

He held the hand he clasped tightly in his own up to the light streaming in through the window. The moon glinted off the silver surface of the metal, sending playful patterns scattering across the walls of the kitchen. Y/n's breath caught in her throat.

"And you can still dance. Why don't you help me with dinner tomorrow?"

It was something they had done on occasion before the extermination, cook for the inhabitants of the Hazbin Hotel together.

"Why are you doing this?"

The smile slipped from Alastor's face.

"I don't understand." Y/n shook her head, pushing herself away from Alastor and wrapping her arms around her torso, "Why are you doing all this for me?"

The answer was simple. Sometimes, the truest things in life are.

"Because I love you." he admitted, "And it pains me to see you like this."

"I..."

He had known it was too good to be true. The music stopped, his staff vanishing into thin air as quickly as it had appeared.

"I'll go. Just... make sure you get some sleep tonight, I know you havent been."

He was halfway to the door, mostly past her, when he felt the cool grip of her hand on the exposed skin of his wrist. Alastor stopped, he turned. There was a minute bravery in the act. Not that she had stopped him, that she had grabbed his arm. If anything, that was the most normal thing that had occurred all evening. No, it was the arm she had chosen to use, the one she held such conflict over and saw as something to be embarrassed about, ashamed of.

She stood tense in the moonlight, her free hand raised to her chest.

"I..."

Y/n's mind was spinning, her thoughts firing off at a thousand miles a minute. She wanted to say it, knew it was true, but something stopped her. She wasn't ready.

"Thank you, Alastor."

Alastor smiled softly, almost sadly over at her. Gently, he removed her hand from his wrist, holding it in his own and patting it gently.

"Always."

------

QUOTES REFERENCED (BECAUSE I REFUSE TO STEAL OTHERS WORK EVEN FOR A FANFICTION)

“Imagine there was a cure, but it would cost you everything. What would you do?” -> taken from “Imagine there was a cure, but finding it would cost you everything. It would completely ruin your life. What would you do?” in Cinder by Marissa Meyer

“Vanity is a factor," Y/n admitted, "but it is more a question of control. It is easier to trick others into perceiving you as beautiful if you can convince yourself you are beautiful. But mirrors have an uncanny way of telling the truth and I am not made up of the same materials I once was." -> taken from “Vanity is a factor, but it is more a question of control. It is easier to trick others into perceiving you as beautiful if you can convince yourself you are beautiful. But mirrors have an uncanny way of telling the truth.” in Cinder by Marissa Meyer

TAGS:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0@kahlan170@wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007

#hazbin hotel #x reader #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #x reader fics #fic writer #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel angst #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #cyborg reader #cyborg #cinder #alastor imagines #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hurt/comfort #the radio demon x reader #radio demon x reader #the radio demon #radio demon #requested #requests open #requests #request #alastor angst

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Omfg congrats on the 2222! I’m sure many more to come!

Alright , hear me out. This idea consumed my brain the entire weekend.

AU Stripper!Frankie

I know, kinda out of character for him, but I can’t help it.

I recently « stumble » upon Magic Men of Australia on tik tok and instantly my mind went to Frankie.

Reader could be at his show and he chose her to come up on stage … after that , you write what you want .

What do you think Cee ?

Sweet anon - I am saving the best for last! Ngl, I might have drooled several times while writing stripper!Frankie. I might also have blacked out when I first saw your ask, thank you for sending in this delicious request. I hope you enjoy this cheeky oneshot, because 1.4k does not count as a drabble 😂 This reminds me of my dearest LJ's @prolix-yuy SW!Frankie universe, do go read it if you haven't yet!

Frankie Morales x stripper AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 1460 words (sorry) | warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, bachelorette party (mis)behaviour, mentions of food

Okay, this is definitely not your scene.

The said scene being a rowdy bachelorette party in an intimate, soundproofed room draped in plush dark velvet and deep-seated sofas, disco lights pulsing in time with the booming bass that shakes your bones. 

And oh, and there’s a half-naked stripper gyrating to the music. Obviously.

Not that he doesn’t look good doing it. He absolutely does, and not in that chiselled, perfectly sculpted way you imagined all strippers would look like. He’s hot in a realistic way, if that makes sense - his arms are strong, his chest is broad and firm, but there’s just a touch of softness to his tummy that makes him human. 

It’s been a long, long time since you’ve seen a naked man. Heck, who are you kidding, when was the last time you even saw a topless man?

But he might as well be completely starkers. The shorts he’s wearing are glorified panties, paper thin, and they do nothing to conceal the fact that he’s hung. You can see the whole business, front and back. For someone as well packed as he is between the legs, his behind is endearingly flat, but mercifully, it doesn’t seem to compromise his balance in any way.

The lean muscles in his arms flex and roll when he locks his hands behind his head, thighs bulging with corded muscle as he plants his feet, and then he thrusts - his bulge swinging heavily, defying gravity. 

He’s got to be half-hard, at least. There’s no way he’s that big standing at ease, so to speak. 

Of course, the girls are going wild. They’re screaming and hyperventilating, Cosmpolitans sloshing over manicured nails and staining their dresses as they throw dollar bills at him. He obliges, crawling onto the couch on all fours so that they can tuck the cash into the waistband of his shorts, copping a feel as they do.

Frankie doesn’t mind it. He plays along, grabbing the bride-to-be’s wrist after she smacks him on the ass, shoving her back into the couch before clambering over her. Getting onto his knees, he dances right in her face, grinning when she squeals and reaches around his waist to grab both his ass cheeks as he rolls his hips.

His eyes slide over to you, sitting a polite distance away as the other girls crowd around him, getting close and personal, not wanting to miss out on the action.

You, on the other hand, look like you’d rather be curled up in the far corner with a book and a warm drink. But he can tell that you’re trying your best, sipping away at your cocktail (with an endearing wince that you try to hide when you swallow), and bobbing to the music even though you’re clearly feeling out of place around your more outgoing friends.

Being the quiet one out of the guys, he gravitates towards your energy. 

Frankie always makes sure all of his customers have a good time in his session and that no one is left out, but he also wants you to be comfortable. Quietening his hips, he hops off the couch, taking two steps towards you, watching as your eyes widen, as if you want to bolt.

One corner of his lips inching upwards, he unfurls his fingers towards you, and the smile widens when you fit your smaller hand in the heart of his palm with a shy one of your own. Pulling you gently onto your feet, he surprises you with a firm tug next, spinning you around with your back to his chest. 

You smell sweet, like shampoo and soap. Not letting go of your hand, he puts his other one on your hip, and you instantly stiffen when your friends screech in excitement, obviously not used to being the centre of attention. 

Hooking his chin on your shoulder, he sways you to the music, his hips snug against yours. He feels you inhale sharply when his breath skims your skin, the shiver that goes through you unmistakable. He revels in your reaction, far more real and intimate than your friends’ drunken wandering hands. 

You slowly thaw in his arms, the tension easing out of your shoulders where the straps of your pretty dress sit, and he knows that you don’t mean to tease when the swell of your ass brushes his front, bolder as you move your hips to the beat.

When the song draws to a close far too soon, he turns you around, wrapping one arm around your waist to dip you backwards. You let go of his hand to grasp the back of his neck on reflex, and he takes the opportunity to glide one palm up the smooth expanse of your leg, before hitching it around his waist.

He sees more than hears the whimper that slips past your lips, and he may or may not be half-hard when he presses his hips between your thighs.

As your friends holler and wolf-whistle around you, he holds your gaze, not missing how your pupils blow wide in the flashing lights.

Then you duck your head, and he lets you go, the bride-to-be demanding his attention.

You happily fade into the background again, but he catches the way your knees buckle when you wobble on your heels back to the sofa.

You’re fucking adorable. 

The guys are tallying the tips for the bookkeeper in the break room when Pope comes in with a phone in his hand. ‘Fish, one of your customers left this behind. Do you know whose it is?’

Tapping on the lock screen - he sucks in a breath when you appear, posing with a big golden retriever. Your face is turned up into the sun, eyes closed in mid-laugh as the dog licks you on your cheek.

With a grunt, Frankie gets on his feet, a dull ache in the small of his back, which always happens when he thrusts a bit too vigorously. Tucking the phone safely in his pocket, he grabs his jacket and strides out, not seeing the guys looking curiously after him as he tosses over his shoulder, ‘Send me her address, Pope, I’ll drop it off.’

You jump when your laptop wakes up with a shrill ringtone. Clicking the green button, your best friend’s voice comes through the speakers. 

‘Hon, the strip club just called. You left your phone there.’

With a groan, your palm meets your forehead in a smack. ‘Oh shit, it always happens when I drink! Should I go pick it up, or -’

‘Don’t worry, I gave them your address.’

‘Wait, what? You gave them my address?’

‘Relax, they’re strippers, not serial killers.’

You shift your feet nervously. ‘Do you know who’s coming?’

‘The one who danced for us today, you lucky bitch.’

Your heart almost leaps out of your mouth as you panic. ‘What the - but I’ve taken off all my make up and I’m not wearing a bra, and I got fucking chili on the stove -’

Your doorbell rings, and you whisper, ‘Shit, he’s here!’

‘Say hi to the hottie for me, babe! Night!’

Padding on bare feet towards the door, you take a deep breath, and reach for the knob.

Warm brown eyes meet yours, but not before they dart over your wet hair and pyjamas. You cross your arms self-consciously, knowing that he must have caught a glimpse of your nipples under your thin sleep shirt.

He smiles, handing you the phone. ‘Glad I caught you before you went to bed.’

Jesus H. Christ. It really is a blessing that you didn’t know what he sounded like when he had his clothes off - 

You barely manage to squeak, your cheeks heating up. ‘Thanks so much for bringing it by, it was so clumsy of me.’

He shrugs easily, his gray tshirt bunching with the movement. ‘Happens. You’ll be surprised what people leave behind.’

‘What?’ you prompt, curiosity piqued.

‘I don’t strip and tell,’ he winks. ‘I’m Frankie, by the way.’

A handshake seems redundant after your close encounter earlier, so you give him your name and a smile. You admit, ‘I almost didn’t recognize you.’

He taps the beak of his cap. ‘It’s the hat.’

‘I like you better with clothes on,’ you blurt out impulsively, the alcohol still running thick through your veins.

He chuckles. ‘You might be the only one.’

He glances over your shoulder, breathing in the smell of simmering beef mince and tomatoes. ‘Are you cooking chili?’

You bite your lip. ‘Guilty. Case of midnight munchies.’

‘It smells delicious,’ he compliments you, lingering by the doorway and making no move to leave.

Emboldened, you ask, ‘Do you want some? I made way too much, as usaul.’

He grins, and it goes straight to your head. ‘I’d love to.’

#fuckyeah2222sleepover #frankie morales oneshot #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales

[furbygoblinxiv]

Ok now to be annoying about a completely different flavor of Zelda: That cartoon from the 80s that has aged so poorly I take psychic damage every time I watch it (which has been multiple times (I have problems)). A few months ago when rewatching and being sick of the Link's personality from the show (his best feature is how funny the "Well excuuuuse me, princess" line is) I was like "I wish the quiet kid from the games/art was here instead" and accidentally thought too hard and made an au/rewrite of the cartoon lmao.

Anyways Zelda cartoon au where cryptid boy Link saves the post apocalyptic Hyrule of loz 1 and chills in the castle with cartoon Zelda to defend the triforce pieces that they have while trying to find the last piece before Ganon can find it, stumbling across the sleeping loz 2 Zelda along the way lol. Hijinks ensue as he teaches Zelda the brawns to back up her girlboss and he gets an adventure buddy because its dangerous to go alone and Zelda with her boomerang and crossbow goes hard. I think a monster of the week style plot works for the earlier Zelda games, but an overarching plot could coexist with that since that is kinda how games work lol.

As per usual here are a bunch of slapdash barely related sketches of my ideas with my expanded thoughts below bc I think it'd be fun to share:

I look at the official art of Link being a quiet determined little dude with a backpack of tools and wish that that was represented more. Like look at him! What a guy! Imagine giving a quiet puzzle solving 14 year old a sword, lethal magical weapons, and a wasteland to explore! I would love a show about that! In terms of other characters, swap out that annoying fairy character, put in a Navi clone, at least Navi didn't have a crush on Link🤮. Ganon can stay the same so long as he was always a demon pig and was never a Gerudo man because unlike Nintendo, I do not want to imply that the only prominent man of color in the series has only one big braincell thats just screaming "EVIL" on loop. But! Keep Zelda the same, I love her so much in the cartoon, she's obnoxious in a slay girlboss way, maximum vibes. By virtue of not having a paper thin plot, most other characters that were fine get fixed by proxy.

I think plot wise? It takes place a few years after the first game. Initially, Link saved the royal family and they started rebuilding that area of Hyrule, and Link traveled around to help people. One day, Ganon's minions start making attacks on the castle to steal the triforce pieces back to revive him fully, and a Zelda who greatly admires Links steps up to defend the place. Eventually, Zelda requests Link return to help defend the castle while they search for the mysterious hidden third triforce piece in order to combine the full thing and wish for peace in Hyrule. Link agrees and the hyjinks begin.

IIRC the og Link backstory was that he was the son of the hyrulean queen and the elf king or smth? In the manga? I didn't want him to be hylian royalty but I wanted to keep that cryptid vibe, hence why I have him related instead to the great fairy and the kokiri. He just leaves the forest/cave one day with literally nothing to go save Hyrule, what a chad. I think it'd be funny if people describe Zelda as feral due to how boisterous and headstrong she is, especially out on the field, but Link is the quiet version of wild that you don't notice at first. She is openly intelligent and snarky in comparison to "says 3 lines a day, bombs first and asks questions later, explore under every rock and bush" forest kid Link.

It would be fun though if "rushes into danger" Zelda resonated more with the triforce of power and "solves dungeon puzzles for funsies" Link with the triforce of wisdom, then they both resonated with the triforce of courage upon finding it. idk tho lol

I also think two different young Zeldas coexisting with each other after one awoke from a cursed slumber would be really funny. Like that's gotta be so awkward, especially if one has the fighter girlboss slay up to 11 and the other just woke up from a coma to her family gone and her kingdom destroyed and just kinda wants to read books and drink tea in peace. Imagine being the same age or older than your great (great?) aunt. Or imagine if the old lady Impa nursemaid to Zelda 1 Zelda was the young Impa nursemaid to the Zelda 2 Zelda. Wild.

If I wasn't incapable of remembering to finish writing wips I'd write that series lol. Alas, this is all I can pull for now.

I'd love to call this propaganda to go watch the show but maybe don't because its yikes. This is moreso propaganda for someone to make a Zelda cartoon show instead of the movie that I sense Nintendo is plotting to make. Also, if you've read this far, I should mention I also will probably be posting art from some of my actual long term Zelda aus beyond just expanding on the cartoon, though I may continue to do that if my train of thought continues on these tracks.

#legend of zelda #loz #zelda cartoon #legend of zelda au #loz au #zelda cartoon au #zelda au #my art tag #actually yeah i think i WILL post more of my aus actually #to free myself from the shackles of cringe and also to do something with these huge documents sitting dormant on my drawing app

[kaiso-woo]

You Helping, or What?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

-> Masterlist

PART 8 of my ‘Stay Series’ - a long hypothesised journey of a relationship between Bang Chan and Reader.

WC: 5k | Synopsis: You've arrived in Korea! And you say some... stuff... that sets off a chain of events where Chris is a little wild. You’re kinda delulu too- for a bit.

Notes: SUGGESTIVE AF, Borderline Smut (Phone Call? Chris is being a tease??), Kisses- uh uhm yeah, Fluff, Second Person Narration, Skz Fluent in English, Swearing, Idol!Chan, CaféOwner!Reader, Fem!Reader, Pet Names (Jagiya, Jagi, Baby, Babe, Love... Da...ddy?? etc.)

Here for a reading marathon? Head right back to the start!

✦ . 　⁺ ��� . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

Overall ‘Stay Series’ Synopsis: Bang Chan experiences the suic!des of Stays, so when you lot choose to die, he dies right along with you. Reader is the “antidote” to this condition - NO MENTION IN THIS FIC

PART 8

!!Casual reminder this is entirely fictitious - Chris/Christopher in my work does not represent the actual Bang Chan - this is purely my imagination and nothing more - this goes for all other SKZ-Members too!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

You take a steadying breath and snap a picture of your surroundings as you hop off the plane, hand grasped tightly on your bag strap. You’re finally about to start a new chapter of your life, right here in Korea, with Chris by your side. Swiftly, you move to the side so you’re out of everyone’s way and send the picture both to Chris (letting him know you’re here), and to Ashley (letting her know that you arrived safely). 

Your younger friend was holding down the fort at the original Café Studio for a while, at least until you got the new one properly set up, then she’d follow you here. It was a decision she was adamant on. She didn’t want to be left behind, and you were quite relieved she was joining you in the long run. For now, Ashley would train up the new manager for that branch of the Café. This is insane.

As you’re standing there, shuffling on your feet and waiting for your luggage to roll around on the conveyor belt, a million thoughts rush through your mind. The stress of opening up a new Café is already beginning to get to you. There’s hundreds of things you need to do; go shopping for a whole new wardrobe (you had packed light), shop for furniture, hire employees, organise menus and ingredients and prices and marketing and-

“Your suitcase has just gone passed you for the second time,” someone mentions at your side. His voice jolts you out of your thoughts, and in a slightly flustered scramble, you chase after the offending possession and yank it off the belt. “Wait- how did you-” you turn back to the person, his dark eyes glinting in an amused fashion. 

Despite this being the only part of his face you can see (everything is hidden behind a mask, cap and hood), you recognise him immediately.

“Christopher?!” you yell quietly, marching back over to him. You can tell he’s grinning through his mask, and you don’t think you’ve ever struggled more in your life than that moment. The urge to squeeze him tightly in a hug is so overwhelming, especially when he spreads his arms wide with a tilt of his head. You don’t though. Just stare at him in shock.

“What are you doing here?” you question, to which he rolls his eyes. In a swift movement, he takes the few steps forwards and pulls you into his arms, crushing your face into his chest and burying his own in your hair. “Hello to you too,” he grumbles playfully, and with a sigh you hug him tightly back, that familiar safety and adoration washing over you.

“I want my question answered still,” you demand. When you pull away, his hands slide down to rest comfortably on your waist and he pecks your forehead with his mask still on. “I’m picking you up obviously,” he responds with a raise of his eyebrows.

“But you shouldn’t be. You know that because you’re covered from head to toe so no one recognises you,” you reprimand, stepping away to grab the handle of your suitcase again. Chris naturally moves to take it off you, and with a little shake of your head, you let him, linking your hands together so he can lead the way.

“Yes well, this disguise does absolutely nothing if you’re not hiding away too,” Chris winks at you, and you grimace in realisation. “I’m not that famous, am I? Do I need to start disguising myself in public too?” “Oh haha, okay. Miss Girlfriend of Bahng Christopher Chahn, not that famous.”

You whine and pull your scarf up higher over your face, now self-conscious and paranoid about everyone around you. “Hey,” Chris nudges you, “Relax jagiya. The whole world knows we’re dating, what’s a little ‘Bang Chan picked his girlfriend up at the airport gonna do’?”

You smile nervously as you exit the airport, nodding to a few people who’s eyes noticeably widen at the sight of you. Shit okay. “Oh I don’t know Chris, maybe it’ll fuel the never ending hate train towards-” “Enough. Forget about the hate train. Nothing and no one is going to hurt you, I won’t let them.”

Chris steers you down into an underground car park, and after a slightly tense walk in silence, Chris fumbles for his keys and unlocks his car, its black colour reflecting the bright lights illuminating the area. He dashes around to open the door for you, shoving you gently out of the way when you go to do it yourself.

“My car, my rules,” he chides, swinging it open with a bow, “My princess doesn’t open doors for herself.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and tilt your head down, trying to hide your embarrassment. “What does that make you then?” You laugh, as you duck into the car, “My prince? My knight?”

“Your husband,” he smirks, startling you with a peck to your forehead with his mask briefly pulled down before he closes the door. He really should stop joking about that kind of thing. At this rate, you’re going to die of a heart attack before you make it back to your new house, let alone live long enough for him to be your husband. You patiently wait as he stows your luggage away in the boot, fiddling with the stereo to figure out how the bluetooth works.

As he starts the car and begins to reverse out, you yell in triumph when your phone connects and wasting no time, press shuffle on your Stray Kids playlist. Chris laughs at your antics, leaning forwards to check for cars before turning out of the carpark. “You don’t have to play our music, you know,” he smiles, glancing at you quietly vibing, before his eyes return to the road. “It’s good music, why wouldn’t I?” Is your reply, and Chris only sighs, “It is good music, Christopher, don’t you sigh like that.”

You shake your head when he doesn’t respond, just stares blankly at the road. With narrowed eyes, you try a new approach. “I’m so lucky.” Chris glances at you again, his eyebrows creasing momentarily in confusion. You shrug and turn to look at the road ahead, “I just so happen to have a handsome, adorable, sexy, cute, sweet, kind, generous, loyal producer for a boyfriend.”

“Okay hang on-” He interjects, but you don’t let him speak. “You know he also sings too? And raps? That is talent right there. Don’t even get me started on the fact that he can dance,” you fan yourself and wolf whistle, “He’s got moves, I’m telling you.” “Jagiya-”

“Ohhhh! I should tell you that he basically founded the group too! Logo, name, members and everything.” “Okay, but it took time and effort-” “His entire fandom joke about him being the Dad of Stray Kids, did you know that? He cares for his members so much. And they also call him ‘best leader’ all the time.”

“Hey- no they do not-“ “Best leader! Best leader! Best leader!” You continue to chant, eyes sparkling as he groans into the steering wheel, having stopped at some lights. “Jagiiiiiiiiiii, that’s enough…” “Best leader! Best leader! BEST LEADER!” “Stop. Stop- I’m not-” “Chris the light’s green. Best leader! Best leader!”

He looks like he’s contemplating his entire life for the rest of the drive, one hand on the steering wheel, head tilted to the side with that fed up expression of his. You still haven’t shut up and you refuse to do so until he agrees with you. Your incessant chanting doesn’t stop even as he opens the car door for you, his expression still resolute. He digs into his pockets and whisks out some keys, dangling them in front of your face tauntingly.

“I won’t give you the house keys until you shut up,” he negotiates, and your mantra turns into quiet whispers, your whole body jumping along to its rhythm. Chris sighs and shakes his head, shoving the keys back into his pocket.

Out of nowhere, he lunges forwards, wraps his arms securely around your midriff and hoists you over his shoulder, dragging you out himself. Staggering slightly, he kicks the door shut with his foot. “Hey put me down!” You laugh, kicking your feet wildly, but then remember you’re supposed to keep chanting, so resume. “Best leader!” “Shut up.” “Best leader!” “No more.” “Best leader!” “I am not.” “Best leader!” “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” “Best leader!”  “You’re talking nonsense.” “Best leader!” “Enough.” “Best leader!”

Abruptly, Chris puts you down and pushes you up against the door to your new home. His arms swiftly cage around your head and he leans close, breathing heavily on your face. “Enough means enough,” he whispers threateningly, and your mouth zips shut, startled at the slight edge in his tone… and his close proximity. “Finally,” he whispers, exhaling in your silence and closing the small gap between your faces to press a relieved kiss to your lips. 

When you try to shift your head away, disappointed that you still haven’t managed to get him to agree that he’s the best leader, he grabs your chin and pulls you right back in for more, not allowing you to say another word. Eventually, (when you tug at his shirt) he pulls away, eyes still glued to your lips. You take a second to collect yourself, eyes wide with disbelief, and an unfiltered thought escapes your mind, “Jesus I didn’t know you could be so dom.”

Chris splutters and his eyes lock with yours. Immediately, you can feel your face heat up, cowering under his gaze and the embarrassment of your thoughts.

“What do you mean you didn’t know? Have I not always been the dominant one in this relationship?” He laughs, and you sag back into the door, chuckling at yourself too. Again, unbidden, your thoughts escape you unfiltered. Maybe it’s the adrenalin of being in a new country, or being with Chris, or everything that’s just happened.

“So… da… ddy?” You mumble, and Chris tears himself away from you faster than you thought humanly possible.

You blink and he’s already back at his car, opening up the boot to haul your suitcase out, a panicked expression on his adorable face. You exhale in amusement and saunter over, your hands in your pockets. Once you peek your head around, you can properly see that Chris is now leaning forwards on the car with his hands, his eyes wide and blinking, ears burning red.

“So… best leader is… da… ddy?” You tease once more. Chris flinches, and as you go to taunt him again he rushes forwards, his palm closing over your mouth to shut you up. “Do not- do not say that again,” he growls, but his eyes are saucers.

“You said that you’re Stay’s daddy though-” you mumble, struggling to breathe through his hand. “That was- that was a joke-”

You yank your face away from his palm and fold your arms indignantly, “Sure it was. Sure it was.” "I was just- catering to what they-“ “Best leader or daddy?” You interrupt, grinning gleefully because you know you’ve backed him into a corner. “Oh come on.” “Best leader or daddy? And neither isn’t an option.”

Chris rubs his face with his hands, stressed, and your grin widens at the sight of his ears burning brighter than they ever have before. “Best- best leader,” he eventually mumbles, then turns away to roll your suitcase back up to the house.

—

And thus… begins your new life.

Little did you know that your teasing in that moment would lead to a torturous rest of the day.

—

Chris has to head back to JYP later in the evening. For now though, you’ve basically hired him to help you drag furniture around and decorate the place. It’s still relatively early in the morning, and you think that sooner or later, the both of you are going to need to lie down for a nap. You never asked him to pick you up at the airport, your landing was during the dark hours of the morning.

The original plan was to stay in a hotel and visit JYPE to retrieve your keys when the sun was actually up. Chris assured you that his time off was approved, and that he could manage on only a few hours sleep. Not that this pleased you much more. Apparently, Chris had been sneaking into your house long before you had even arrived here, lugging packages and boxes of furniture and basic requirements in without your knowledge. “The Kids’ helped too - don’t worry, they offered.”

Now, you were sitting on the floor, puzzling over an instruction manual and trying to find the corresponding pieces of the bed frame. As long as you had this set up for today, you’d be satisfied with yourself. Chris was busying himself with the dining table out by the kitchen. He had insisted on a larger one than the one you had before, so that the rest of Skz could visit too. You agreed because his point was valid, but also because it’d probably be nicer when Ashley finally comes to stay as well.

Eventually, you sigh and realise you might need some help. Who knew the pieces of a bed frame could be so bulky and hard to deal with? “Hey Chris?!” You yell, eyes roving the bits and pieces around you to find the right pile of screws. His response is muffled when he yells back, like he’s got something in his mouth. “Can I have a hand for like… maybe five minutes?” 

Sure enough, when Chris appears in the doorway to your room, he’s got a screwdriver in his mouth. “You need a hand?” He repeats, pulling the screwdriver out from between his plump lips. “Yeah just c’mere a sec please? Help me connect this-” You pause when you feel his warm hand slip into yours, his fingers wiggling to comfortably rest between your own.

“Five minutes? I can do that. Make it ten,” he grins, swinging your hands childishly, “In fact, you can have my hand for as long as you like.”  Blankly, you stare at your linked hands swinging between you, then slowly look back up at Chris, a sympathetic expression on your face, “You’re cute, but you know that’s not what I meant.” “Humour me,” he shrugs, shoving his screwdriver into one of his pockets for safekeeping, “What do we need to connect?”

What could have been a five minute task turns into a twenty minute one. Chris refuses to let go of your hand, tightening his grasp whenever you try to pull away. His clinginess makes your heart swell, but also teeter on the edge of frustration as you simultaneously laugh and struggle to connect the bed frame with him attached to your hip. You think, rather than him helping you, he’s just making it harder.

He tugs you around and directs your body parts as if he owns them, and although you comply after an amused laugh, you can’t help but wonder what on earth has gotten into him. “Chris baby, it’d just be easier if you let me go-” “Never letting you go.” “No- so that we can properly work together on this-“ “We can properly work together like this too-” “Chris-” “I don’t want to hear another word. Pass me that bracket?” You shake your head at him but pass it on regardless, and after some time, you successfully manage to put the bed frame together.

You laugh, you stumble over each other, yell in mock annoyance at each other, and even admire each other as the time ticks by. Not a word is said again about your linked hands, interwoven so tightly.

—

It’s been an hour or so since then, and now you’re returning, shaking your hands to dry them, from a bathroom break. You find Chris sitting on top of the finished bed, mattress, blankets and all. He’s typing something happily on your phone, his eyes crinkled in delight. 

He’s typing… he’s typing something on your phone.

“Babe,” you ask, your hands on your hips. He doesn’t even look up. “Jagiya. Is that my phone?” “Yeah, what about it?” He haughtily responds, raising a delicate eyebrow, but still his eyes are glued to the screen.

“What’re you doing on my phone?” You question, walking over to him and staring down at your screen. He’s messaging someone, apparently conversing with a person who’s presently responding in kind. “It’s Jisung,” Chris elaborates, finally eyeing you pointedly to gauge your reaction. “What’d he say?” You quiz, plopping yourself down next to him and peering at the messages.

“Is Chan hyung getting on your nerves yet?” Chris snorts, scrolling up briefly so you can read the conversation. “Of course I am? She love’s it though?” You scoff, raising your eyebrows at his response.

-

(A/N: When dialogue is in script format, it’s meant to represent text messages)

Jisung: “Give her back her phone you possessive shit”

Chris (on your phone): “pre-debut han jisung makes his appearance”

Jisung: “pre-debut han jisung is here for a chat with your girlfriend, not you”

Chris (on your phone): “disrespectful child”

Jisung: “old man”

Chris (on your phone): “how original”

Jisung: “Minho wants to know if you guys have made the bed yet”

Chris: “Yeah, we have”

Jisung: “he made this face 😏” Jisung: “it was scary”

-

You laugh in amusement at their banter, deciding to ignore the last few comments, and hold your hand out for your phone. “Alright can I have my phone back please?” You ask, rolling your eyes when Chris pouts sadly at you. “Chris can I have-” 

He does not give your phone back. Instead, he gently grabs your outstretched hand, brings it up to his lips and kisses your palm softly, staring at you through his eyelashes.

You swallow nervously as he kisses a soft trail from the centre of your palm right down to your fingertips, each press of his lips to your skin sending tingles through your body. Dimly, your mind recalls Jisung (Minho’s?) suggestive messages, and then you numbly realise that you’re both currently sitting on the bed in question.

It’s with a racing heart that you slide away and disappear into the lounge room, nonchalantly beelining towards a cardboard box full of decorations. You can put a few decorations up before lunch, maybe a few paintings and photo frames. Sounds good. Yep.

—

Deep breaths.

—

Chris had, naturally, followed you and helped unpack the decorations, organising them and trying to help you decide where to best hang them. Now it’s just a matter of actually putting them up. He’s twirling a hammer and staring at the packet of nails in your hands worriedly.

“And you’re absolutely sure you want to use nails? There are plenty of other ways we could do this that won’t put a hole in the wall,” he offers, picking up the nearest painting and propping it up on the wall. You hesitate, watching as he marks the position of the painting with a pencil.

Eventually, when he puts the painting back onto the ground and turns back to you, you respond. “Yeah just- pound the nail into the wall,” you shrug, and it’s not until you notice the shit-eating grin on his face, that you regret your words. “I’ll pound you into the wall.”

You groan and spin on your heel, throwing the packet of nails haphazardly onto the dining table and beginning the search for your phone. “We putting up these paintings?” He calls after you, that infuriating grin still planted firmly on his face. “I’m ordering lunch.”

Chris appears at your side and kisses your cheek, squeezing your shoulder affectionately, “You hungry? I’ll go out and get something. I know a place, but they don’t do phone orders.”  “Are you sure? I could just get take out-” You frown, picking your phone up from the bed. “I’m sure. I’ll be back in jiffy.” (A/N: “jiffy” is simply Aussie slang for ‘in a very short time’.)

—

How’s this day going to end?

—

Chris barges back in after about half an hour, proudly holding up a bag of the food he was adamant in retrieving, “How’s the prettiest person in the world doing?”

You smile at his question, currently occupied with unpacking cutlery and other kitchen necessities. “I don’t know. How are you?” You throw back, languidly adding a fork to the cutlery drawer as he pauses in the doorframe. “Me? I’m- what?” He chokes, caught off guard, “I’m not the prettiest person-”

“How are you Christopher?” You press, taking the food out of his hands and smiling at the rosy tint on his cheeks. “I’m fine,” he mumbles, his voice cracking slightly.

You dish out the steaming food onto the recently unpacked plates, passing Chris his share before serving yourself. He sits down on one of the barstools and patiently waits for you to join him before he digs in. You sigh in content at the explosion of flavours in your mouth, and for once, neither of you speak during your meal.

It’s not until about halfway through of just basking in the warmth of each other’s company, munching happily with satisfaction, that Chris interrupts the cosy silence.

“I’m not the prettiest person in the world,” he frowns, swallowing a mouthful thickly. You sigh and turn to him, placing your fork onto your plate. 

With your elbow propped up on the table, you rest your cheek in your palm and stare at the man next to you as he eats, a small frown evident in the crease between his eyebrows. Even in this state, unkempt due to the hours of physical labour, hair a disastrous mop of twisting curls, not a particle of makeup to hide him… he’s softly glowing. You can see his dark eyes swirling with a million thoughts, the pieces of his mind reflected in the glimmer of his pupils. 

Your eyes trace the line of his prominent nose, the curve of his plush lips, the cut of his jaw flexing as he chews. Not the prettiest person in the world, huh?

Chris’ face morphs into his characteristic soft smile, the one that gives him the look of a child, adorable and in need of protecting. Slowly, he turns towards you, this smile :], only intensifying. “You’ve been staring at me for a while now,” he mumbles, and you can’t help but inhale sharply.

If only you could capture this image, this image of him, and permanently keep it somewhere. You can’t though. That’s not how this works, but it’s okay… because you’ll permanently keep it in your mind, your heart, turn it into a part of your soul.

“Are you… alive…?” He asks, waving a hesitant hand in front of your face. The corner of your lips quirk slightly, and before you turn back to your food you utter, “Sorry, I was busy admiring a work of art.”

Chris stares at you, his ears red, for a long while before he returns to his food. Who knows? Maybe he was trying to string his thoughts together. Maybe he was trying to figure out how to express his devotion, his love for you. Maybe he was admiring what he thinks is a work of art, more beautiful than any piece of music he could ever produce… and that… is saying something.

—

“Oh fuck me,” you whine, as you stoop to pick up the screw that you’ve dropped for the 4th time. Chris looks up from where he’s sitting, fiddling with his screwdriver, and in your peripheral vision you can see him smirk.

“That wasn’t an invitation,” you sigh, not even looking at him properly. Chris abandons his project and stalks over to you on all fours, oddly prowl like - steady and paced, taking his time.  “I mean it,” you demand, “leave me alone.”

You’re looking down at the instructions between your splayed out legs, searching for the next step when Chris’ hand sneaks in between your arms and onto your chest.

“Chris-“ you begin to protest, but his mouth presses to yours swiftly, his tongue unfairly swiping. Assertively, he pushes you down to the floor, never breaking the kiss, and crawls on top of you. “Christopher-“ you try again, during a gasp for air.

“Yes…?” He chuckles, grabbing your head gently in his hands and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. Just as you go to speak again, he kisses you softly, stopping you from jerking your head away with his fierce grip on your head.

The next maybe… 30 seconds are spent with you constantly trying to speak, and him shutting you up with kisses, each one more fierce than the last.

It’s only when your phone begins to ring beside you that he stops suffocating you, instead shifting his affection to your neck, his hands roving the shape of your body lovingly.

“Christopher Bahng,” you chide, trying to string two thoughts together. Everything feels hot; his hands even through the fabric of your clothes, his lips, his tongue.

You moan involuntarily as you reach for your phone, wondering how on earth he’d manage to find that particular sweet spot on your neck so effortlessly. He kisses it just that little bit harder, sucking at your skin slightly - trying to elicit that same response. You’re going to ruin him if you become anymore vocal.

“Chris- hang on- wait- I need to answer this call it’s Ashley- oh fuck you-” you whine, as his hands slip underneath your shirt in response, his careful ministrations white-hot on your skin.

You squirm underneath him, trying to escape as you answer, words tumbling out of your mouth in a panicked rush, “Hey Ashley- hey- hi, you okay? What’s up?”

“Oh I’m fine. I wanted to see how you were doing!” She chirps back, so bright and cheerful that you almost smile - you would have if a certain Bahng Christopher Chahn hadn’t decided to lift your shirt up, exposing your stomach, and drifted down to shower the skin with his affection.

You hiss instead and slide yourself away on the floor. He frowns at you and simply follows, this time holding onto your waist to keep you still. You try, in vain to hold a decent conversation with Ashley, hand covering your mouth to stifle your moans. Since you’re trying to converse however, you need to remove your hand to speak - and this means trouble when Chris decides to press a kiss teasingly close to the band of your shorts.

You’re breathing heavily now, and Ashley falls silent mid-sentence. “Chan is with you, isn’t he?” She asks, and you laugh almost deliriously. “Yes he is, and he’s being a downright pain in the ass.” In a last ditch attempt, you try to force yourself away, but he’s gripping you almost a little too tightly. “He’s always been the source of your distraction, hasn’t he?” Ashley giggles, and there’s an unmistakeable smirk in the tone of her voice.

Chris laughs at this, the first sound he’s made in a while, and you’re only a little startled to know that he’s been able to hear your conversation the entire time. You hadn’t realised your phone volume was that high. Chris crawls back up your body and speaks directly into the phone, “I’m the source of her pleasure actually.”

“Oh dear god. I had already I assumed I didn’t need you to spell it out for me,” she groans, her voice becoming distant on the phone as if she’s holding it away from her in disgust. “Hey- Ashley that is not what is happening- he’s just being an absolute prick-“ you fumble, emotions struggling to settle; embarrassment? Panic? Desire? Guilt? Shame? Lust? Love? What? Huh? Who?

“Are you sure about that? I’m gonna go anyways- leave you to it.” “Ashley-Louise don’t you go anywhere. I’m sitting on the fucking floor right now trying to put a chair together.” “She’s actually lying on the floor, but details don’t matter I guess.” “Christopher.” “And where are you Chris?” Ashley asks, almost mockingly. “On top of her,” he responds matter-of-factly, and you cry out in embarrassment.

“See I mean- I congratulate you on managing to pin her to the floor, but that’s not a very nice place for your first fuck is it?” Ashley jokes, and her words make you completely freeze. “You’re absolutely right, I’ll take her somewhere comfier,” Chris decides.

“Ashley I am so sorry about Chris, he’s just messing around as per usual- I am so sorry, I’ll make up for your lost innocence when you get here, I promise,” you ramble, emotions definitely deciding to settle on guilt and embarrassment. “I’m not that much younger than you, ya know. This is nothing.” Ashley’s last words bounce around in your skull after she ends the call.

And you’re left to stare in a wild craze at the man above you, eyes glimmering with a satisfied mirth, his mouth pulled into a smug smirk. “Back to it?” He whispers, and you glare at him. “No way,” you try for a snap, but your voice comes out slightly broken and quiet.

“You were most definitely enjoying that though,” he continues, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I’m not- I’m not ready- for any of that,” you eventually manage, hiding your face in your hands, “I’m scared- I’m just scared-“

Chris rests his full body weight onto you, squishing the air out of your lungs, and snuggles into your neck. “That’s okay. It’s okay. It wasn’t an invitation - I know.” “Chris- I’m sorry- I just-“ “Don’t apologise… there is absolutely no need to apologise. I’m sorry.” “It’s not that I don’t want to-” “Stop trying to justify it, there is no need to.” “No but- I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.” “I want you. As a person. That’s it.” “Yes but-” “I want your love.” “That’s what all of your antics today was about, wasn’t it?” You whisper, guilt consuming your heart. “I want you to feel safe. I want you to feel comfortable. And if you’re not-“ Chris hoists himself up to smile down at you, “Then I’m not either.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

-> PART 9 -> Masterlist

A/N: I’m Minho right now: 😏

Feedback is always appreciated, negative and positive alike. I apologise for any editing errors, I’m forever learning.

Until next read! - Kaisowoo

#bang chan #stray kids #stray kids x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #skz #christopher chan bang #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #bang chan fic #bang chan fanfic

[junkdrawerfics]

Safe Place

Summary: Takes place when Bob and Phoenix almost go down from the bird strike. Afterwards, Rooster seeks you out to make sure you're okay because you aren't answering anyones calls. He finds you in your safe place. (hurt/comfort)

Word Count: 1278

Warnings: spoilers? Kinda? Reader struggles with the concept of losing someone.

---

It was a hard day.

Now, when you joined the Navy, you were expecting hard days. Plenty of them. But that doesn’t mean you feel any more prepared for them.

There’s no way to prepare for your best friends almost dying, after all.

You know they’re okay. Everyone has told you that over and over and over again. Natasha and Bob experienced minor injuries at best. But you can’t get past it. The sound of her rising panic over the comms. The sight of the plane careening into the side of a mountain. The pillar of smoke. It’s burned into your head, replaying on loop as your imagination runs wild.

What if they hadn’t ejected in time? 

What if the plane had blown up?

What if they had died?

What’s to stop the same thing from happening to you? To Rooster?

Tendrils of panic dig deep into your chest, leaving you gasping, and all you can do is seek out the one place you always do when you need to clear your head.

---

Rooster knocks softly on your door before drawing back and waiting. He rocks on his heels, lips pulling into a frown when nothing happens. Even after he tries again, nothing. Something uneasy forms like a rock in his gut. He glances through your windows, but the little house looks empty.

Where are you?

He came by to make sure you’re okay, not able to shake the worry clinging to him. He was right next to you when it happened. The sight of your face, crumbling with so much anguish, is trapped in his memory and it makes his heart ache.

With a frustrated sigh, Rooster rubs at his face. You could be anywhere. You grew up here, close to Top Gun, so you know the place front and back. He already tried calling you, with very little success. Even Phoenix and Bob couldn’t get a hang of you, which made the feeling in his chest so much worse.

So, he digs through every memory he has, trying to figure out where you would go first. Not his place, he just came from there. The beach maybe, but he doubts it with the dark clouds looming overhead. He really thought you’d be here, the house you grew up in. It’s yours, since your parents moved. You love telling him stories about growing up here, especially about the little house you and your dad built out ba-

Rooster takes off, right into the rain. His steps are sure as he rounds the corner of the house, eyes scanning the backyard before falling on a small cabin-like shed tucked into the back corner.

“(Y/n)?”

Even with no answer, he can’t shake the feeling that he’s right, so he keeps going.

It’s old, definitely a little worn around the edges. The walls, once painted green, are now faded and chipped, showing the wood beneath. There’s a little sign on the door, one that would make him smile if he weren’t so focused on finding you..

‘(Y/n)’s Hangar - certified personnel only’

Considering he’s an aviator, he figures he’s certified, so he doesn’t hesitate to crouch down and slowly push the door open, calling your name again.

---

“(Y/n)?”

Your breath rattles in your lungs as you take a sharp inhale. Looking up from where you’re tucked into a pile of blankets and pillows, you watch as the tall man shuffles into the small playhouse, practically bent at the waist.

“Hi, Ro-o,” your voice breaks, even at a whisper.

Bradley settles down next to you, and if it were any other day, you might laugh at how out of place he looks. Like a giant in your small home.

“Hey, songbird.” You offer a watery smile at the nickname, at the concern dripping from his words. “We’ve been worried about you.”

“Yah, I um…” You swipe at your eyes to get rid of any leftover tears. “I just, I didn’t…yah.”

Rooster’s brow furrows, and you turn your eyes back out the window, to watch the raindrops race. You really don’t know what to say. You should be with them right now, but you just…can’t. Because then it’s real. Too real. So you’re here, and now Rooster is too, just sitting quietly beside you. It’s not often the aviator is quiet, but he can practically feel the storm of emotions coming off you, like a reflection of the world outside.

“This is my safe place,” you murmur after a long moment, fingers curling deeper into your blankets. “I would, I would come here when I was young, whenever I was upset. Dad said, he said it would protect me ‘cause inside, I’m part of the Navy. And the Navy protects its own, but, but today-” You take a shuddering breath, holding back the pain in your chest as much as you can.

Rooster pulls you close, his arm wrapping around your shoulders so tenderly, so surely, as if he can protect you from everything crashing down on you. You look up at him, eyes wide, gleaming with a fear you’ve never felt before. And the look in his eyes, the warmth, the sadness, the understanding-

It shatters you.

A heaving sob shakes your whole body as you curl into Rooster. He immediately pulls you into his lap, cradling you, making soft shushing noises in your hair as he presses a kiss to your head. You hold on to him for dear life, his shirt twisted between your fingers, because you’re scared. Scared that if you let go for even a moment, he’ll be gone too. 

“I could’a lost them, Roo,” you sob, “I could have lost both of them.”

“I know. I know, sweetheart.” His voice is soft, softer than you’ve ever heard it. “But they’re okay. You didn’t lose them.”

“But I could have!” Your voice pitches with desperation. “What if it happens again, Roo? What if I lose you? I can’t- I couldn’t-”

“(Y/n).” Bradley cups your face. You bite back your cries, eyes too heavy with tears to make him out. But his hands are warm. They’re warm and calloused and tender and they’re holding every broken piece of you together. “You didn’t lose them and you won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But how can you say that, Bradley?” You whimper, “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know I will do everything on this Earth to come back to you-” Rooster rests his forehead against your, and your eyes flicker shut at the contact. “-always. I’d even partner up with Bagman if I had to.”

A watery laugh escapes your lips and some of the tension slips away. Rooster smiles, a faint one still creased with concern, but at least you’re laughing. He pulls you back into a hug, lips finding your temple. 

“Why don’t we go see Phoenix and Bob? Then you can see that they’re alright, and maybe all of us can go get dinner. How does that sound?” He proposes in a soft whisper, tracing random shapes on your back.

“Only if we get Thai, that’s Phoenix’s favorite,” you sniffle, “And ice cream after for Bob.”

“Sounds like a plan, songbird.”

You don’t move, though. You just need this a little longer. Just a few more minutes wrapped in Bradley’s arms, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat. You release one last, shaky breath when his fingers interlace with yours. You give his hand a squeeze, appreciation swelling in your chest.

Because here, in his arms, you feel safe. Safer than you’ve felt in a long time.

It looks like Bradley Bradshaw is your safe place, now.

---

Cheesy, I know. Let me love my cheese.

Also let me know if you guys have any requests or prompts!

#bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #reader #reader insert #rooster #x reader #hurt/comfort #no beta we die like goose

[sourbinnie]

3:48

[ shut off the lights (we don't need them to dance) ] fluffy thoughts #2 ✉ | minho x gn!reader

[what is #thoughts? a series of short imagines where i have fluffy, angsty, wild (+18) or alternative thoughts]

"pleaseee! just one time and i'll let you go to sleep." i insisted as i shook my boyfriend's shoulder. i had a stupid idea and nobody could stop me when i felt this way about something. "i know i'm being the most annoying boyfriend/girlfriend right now but i just want you for a minute." 

"you could never be annoying baby." he said as he makes my heart flutter every time like i was falling in love all over again. "okay but i don't even know how to do it, you know i suck at this." he insisted but i knew he was lying, still i was gonna be a good significant other and pretend that i believed him and guide him through the steps even though dance was never my strongest suit. 

yes i wanted a little dance, in the middle of the night while he got back from work and so did i. i was being heavily annoying but i just found the idea kind of pure and cute, just to feel my boyfriend in that intimitate kind of way against me and to let me savor the moment as much as i could. i truly thought we were endgame and i still do but sometimes you're fed up with insecurities that make you doubt yourself and your relationship. so i kinda needed this, one slow dance to make me forget about everything.

i was taken back from my daydream as i felt his hands on my waist and a smile invaded their face when they saw me blush. i must've looked like a fool but i didn't care, if there was someone i've felt comfortable acting the fool with was minho. he looked at me in the eye and i felt some kind of safety that i could not feel anywhere else with anyone else. i put my arms around his neck but then remembered.

"where are you going?" he asked confusedly as i got out of his embrace to turn off the lights and then he got it. "oh so you really want the full experience huh? i'll make it truly special then." he said and i could feel his smirk but then it was his genuine smile again. my hands met the back of his neck as his traveled to my waist once again. i could see the reflection of the seoul city lights flaring through the window but the darkness was still there. i could feel every move that we made and every slow step that we took was gonna be a new memory that i would cherish forever in my mind.

even when we stopped dancing and i had my head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, it just felt so right and i could not explain why. i expected it to feel ridiculous but it just felt so dreamy and magnificent. as if i was destined to meet minho in every life 'cause i truly felt like we were soulmates. i took the opportunity to slowly lean in closer to his lips and finally kiss him. fireworks, sparks, lightning, everything struck on my chest as we kissed and i took it in like it would be our last kiss.

✉ ✉ ✉

"i hope the practice made it worth it." he says as he offers his hand to me and i gladly accept it. "god you look stunning tonight and i did not have the chance to say it in the ceremony." 

"i could see your tears even if you tried to hide them so i guess that speaks for itself." i replied as he was rolling his eyes. the boys, his best men as we liked to call them, were sitting there as my now so-called husband got more and more shy. as we did that night, every time step we were taking for our first dance felt different. it was a new beginning and a way to show everyone that didn't believe in us that we did it. 

"i am so in love with you (y/n), so lucky to have you." he said as he got closer to me and whispered in my ear. i got so lost in the moment that i thought we were the only two people in the room for a moment. the lights shut off as the candles illuminated the whole place. i could not believe how beautiful everything looked but i just kept on looking at him. 

i could stare at him forever and not get bored of his features, his now longer hair with his little smile and his brown eyes. i felt like i was floating and i could only stare at the man in front of me who truly made me believe in love and that i deserved to be loved. 

"i'm the lucky one min." i said smiling as i laid my head once again on his chest to hear his heartbeat. the sound i would be falling asleep to every night for the rest of my life.

#skz drabbles #sourbinnie #skz imagines #skz short imagines #skz imagine #skz scenarios #skz fluff #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

❣️.ĐØ₥Ɇ₴₮ł₵₳₮Ɇ V₴ ₵₳₱₮ɄⱤɆ. ☠️

...

(i love playing with various branches of scarebat inside my head. even if it's one-note idea. but in this current bit, i was thinking about a core view on certain things, that most of their versions have in common. mainly the difference between jon's n' bruce's outlooks on how they picture 'ideal' encounter between one another. or more so, what the best outcome of it might be. what their 'great end game might look like.

bruce *for the most part* wants to believe in reabilitation. in a change for the better. it's possible to tame n' domesticate a wild crow. it might not change its habbits fully, but it's possible to make the bird less harmful *to smaller animals as they do feed on them* by keeping it happy and fed. by nurturing it into state, where it'll be mostly comfy with getting food by less extreme means. n' where it might trust you to not to harm it or stop giving it food. while, i view this set-up from a perspective of a shipper, i also can see gen approach here as well. mostly, bc i don't think that bruce would have ever left any of his *potentially ex* rogues fully unsurpivised. esp someone with history like crane's. batman is too much of a control freak to not peak into his villain's personal affairs, even if just to make sure, that they haven't went back to crime. him befriending / having a chance to impose influence on a troubled, malevolent 'crow via smth other, than use of force would have been a nice change of pace. batman is pragmatic, but i love how he doesn't ever fully dismiss the idea of 'what if', n' desire to see his rogues improving themselves. but at the same time, usually, he's the one who puts said crow back into cage *arkham*, so there is that too. he wants to do the right thing, but the bird keeps glaring at him through the narrow bars, bc it doesn't get why must it be caged for hurting n' killing other animals, when they *totally* picked on it first.

now, jon would have almost an oposite view of this, i imagine. where bruce can picture a second variant, another *brighter* path, crane kinda just cannot do the same. from his pov, there is no way for batman to ever become a villain. somebody who would team up with him. so they can't be 'together' this way. there is also no way for crane to ever get onto batman's level. esp bc he doesn't want *can't* change this drastically. therefore, the only way to keep the bat in his possession is to lock it up, trap it n' hold it in a little metalic box. hide it inside his basement, bc so many other people would love to have the bat too. he doesn't want to clip its wings, but part of him is paranoid enough to consider it. he has no idea how else to make a wild bat stay. it doesn't listen to him, like his birds do. but crane will take good care of it, anyway. make it dependent on him. caged by him, n' no one else can steal it away this time.

maybe, this reads as gibberish to some, but i really love how both bruce n' jonathan have animal analog / name in their aliases. bruce's is more apperent, bc well, batman lol. he even dress up as this. crane's case is more subtitle, but still, the scarecrow. even if he supposed to scare said birds away, he keeps them as pets as offten as we see bats hanging inside bruce's herocave lol. those animals also suit their personalities to a degree. the only other animal, that i can see crane as be a possum lol. sharp teeth, always hissing, long rat tail, but despite the ragged apperance, they are the only mamal that cannot get rabies bc of their body temperature, even tho by looking at it, you'd think that it surely would have that disease, haha. that's kinda very crane. he tends to subvert expectations, but in a strange ways.

an' well, where bruce can step down to extremes, n' i don't mean putting crane's scawny ass back into asylum, i mean also consider other methods of keeping him declawed. including trapping him inside his cave / basement. still, i feel like for jon's those said extremes are default line of thinking. socially inept, distrustful n' lonely, it would make sense for him to assume, that he can only co-exist with batman, if he will lock him up n' be the only one, who has a key to his prison. generally, it always seems that while jon's views on things n' his way of persiving / feeling affection are twisted, it's also pretty sad too. technically, he doesn't have any frame of referance here. of affection, that is returned n' not played as a joke at his expense. an' being humilated by the bat in such manner would sting way harder, than his high school crush rejecting him. he'd also would have that yandere u-turn. but not in like 'if i can't have you none one has'. more like 'i really want to have you, so i'd do every terrible thing in the book to make it possible'. well, almost 'every'. i feel like there be things, that jonathan *most versions of him, anyways* just kinda won't do. he does have some class, after all.

overall tho, i do love jon as that needy 'creep' archetype *which is pretty much a canon in old comics too*, who would kidnap / do awful things to a guy he likes, simply bc he has no idea what else he can do with him. at most times, he's that meme of 'idk how to hit on him, so he has to die'. meanwhile, bruce thinks that if you feed a stray bird enough, it might consider staying or well, not being as troublesome as it usually is.

in some timelines, this even might work out, who knows.

less so jonathan's side of things, since i feel like he would end up screwing his own plan over. i even have a lil drafty thing for a fic with similar premise, but it's for some other time. atm. just lil art, while i'm working on bigger things, haha. gotta store all these bits / concepts somewhere, so that i don't forget that they exist.)

#batman comics #bruce wayne #jonathan crane #scarecrow #batman #scarebat #batcrow #brew draws

[rootsofdread]

Hi! I just found your blog(? is it called a Tumblr? a blog? I still don't know) and I love it! I'm sort of an on-and-off Dead by Daylight player, but seeing this great thing you've got going on here makes me kinda want to go play more.

I dunno if this is an acceptable request, but: how would the denizens of the Fog feel about a friendly and helpful dog!Reader?

For the killers, the faithful companion is leading them to injured survivors and also barking at people who try to sneak by (though likely not always successfully, since the Fog is likely messing with their senses), maybe even knocking things out of survivors' hands because they're a mischief maker.

For the Survivors, the friendly pooch is leading injured survivors away from the killer and to healers, picking up and bringing them dropped items, and barking at stalking killers to warn the people it cares about.

Everyone needs a friendly animal sometimes, I think. There's something really nice about petting a fuzzy friend when you've had a bad day, and I feel like being in the Fog probably means you have a lot of bad days.

most people call them blogs hehe! this was honestly such a fun request to do though, i was delighted seeing it in my inbox!! very unique and fun to write :-D!!

Jake Park:

Jake had long learned to be wary of animals — creatures, more like — found in the fog. So he was understandably skeptical when he saw a dog sniffing around in the distance. He was sure he’d see you transform into some grotesque monster. He was shocked to see you lead the killer into a trap he had set up earlier in the trial, jumping over it while they stepped into it.

He knew you’d be next if they caught up to you. He whistles to get your attention and makes sure you run away with him, ahead of him, even. There’s something strangely freeing about being with an animal again, to him, running with one and feeling like he’s truly in the wild again.

You help him a lot with building make-shift traps and getting items together for himself and his teammates. He never has to worry about being unprepared with you around, he can tell you to go find something he needs, and chances are, you’ll be back with it in no time. You’re often more helpful at times than his teammates are.

Jeff Johansen:

Jeff couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you walk up to him while he was working on a generator. A stray dog. He was sure you were a figment of his imagination — but attempts to snap himself out of it proved futile. But he still wasn’t too sure, of course, he figured you must be something conjured by the Entity to mess with him and other survivors. 

But he began to trust you more when you lead him into a nearby out-of-sight corner just as the killer skulked by. He was in disbelief that you knew they were coming before he did, and seemed to figure this must mean you’re here to protect him rather than mess with him.

That said, he often spends more time protecting you than you do protecting him. He tells you to run and takes chase from the killer before they find you, and he’s thankful when you decide to listen instead of continue to follow him; he wants you to help everyone else when you can’t help him. You’ve brought him happiness and he’ll protect you at any cost.

Max Thompson Jr. / The Hillbilly:

Max doesn’t have a great track record with animals, and he nearly killed you when he first noticed you during a trial. The incessant barking is almost what did it — but then he noticed you were clearly barking at something. A bush? No, something inside the bush. He could hear something.

He swung his hammer into the greenery and collided with flesh. An injured survivor had been hiding from him, and you led him straight to them. He seems to decide for himself, maybe you can be useful. He lets you follow him around for the rest of the trial, occasionally looking over his shoulder to see you wagging your tail.

He eventually becomes much more attached to you, thinking of you more as a pet than a convenience. He can frequently be seen petting you and throwing you treats after you help him catch survivors, and perhaps, on occasion, he lets you lay your head in his lap while the two of you rest after a long trial.

Anna / The Huntress:

Of course, Anna had seen animals in the fog; the nasty creatures the Entity had spawned. They’re easy pickings, a fun activity for her when she’s not in a trial. She was surprised when she lobbed a hatchet at you and you actually dodged it. She knew you were smarter, a different kind of animal. A real animal, like from before.

Believe it or not, she was actually delighted to have found a real animal in the fog. She loved animals. And a dog, too — she always wanted a dog, particularly for hunting, but she had heard what great companions they make. It was never a secret how much she’d always wanted a friend.

She immediately takes to you and lets you come with her. She loves having an easy way to pinpoint where survivors are with you, letting you run off into the trialgrounds and alert her to the exact locations of them, occasionally even dragging injured survivors straight back to her. You’re rewarded with treats from her hunts.

#inbox #jake park #jeff johansen #max thompson jr #dbd anna #dbd imagines #dbd x reader #dbd x you #gender neutral reader #jake park x reader #jeff johansen x reader #max thompson jr x reader #the hillbilly x reader #dbd anna x reader #the huntress x reader

[ghostchems]

cirice - vampire!terzo x female!reader

you are searching for inspiration at the site of a local urban legend but something beckons to you

notes: 3.5k word count, mdni! 18+! there be smut here. also wanted to make this kinda spooky kinda mysterious hehe. ao3 link.

You scribble down a few thoughts in your notebook before looking back up at the mansion in front of you. Your feet dangle as you kick them while you think, trying to go get some inspiration from your environment.

The Crowley Manor stands darkly in silence as the sun sets behind it. Not much was known about the house, other than it had stood for over a hundred years. There were plenty of rumors, ranging from satanic cult activities to being a haunted boarding house to being the site of a murder-suicide of a wealthy local family. None had ever been verified, with the history of the manor remaining a mystery that seemed to plague your small town.

The historical society had taken up the task of renovating the outside of the manor, in the hopes that they would be able to uncover some of its history. The project had been quickly abandoned once construction workers had started to refuse to come into work after a few disappearances on the job. 

All of this had concerned you, of course, but it had also inspired you. You found yourself daydreaming about what took place in the manor often. You would jot down ideas almost constantly, until you found yourself here.

You had a generic story idea outlined already but actually being here, feet dangling off the stone fence where you sat, made your imagination run wild. A chill runs down your spine as you realize some time has passed. It was now completely dark, the sun having set long ago. You furrow your brow as you check your phone. You had been staring at the house for hours.

You shiver again as you start to pack your notebook and pens back into your bag. You offer the manor one last look, thinking in the back of your mind that you would be back to gain some inspiration again. The gravel crunches beneath your sneakers as you walk down the driveway to your car. 

I feel your presence amongst us. You cannot hide in the darkness.

You spin around and find yourself looking back at the empty mansion. You swear you could see some kind of light coming from one of the stained glass windows. An overwhelming feeling of being watched washes over you but still, your gaze lingers a bit longer. 

Can you hear the rumble? Can you hear the rumble that's calling?

You could hear it this time, clear yet faint, in the back of your mind. You take another step towards the house without thinking. The voice sounds warm, almost sweet, beckoning for you to come closer. You find yourself walking up the front porch of the mansion, the gargoyles seemingly more inviting than when you had photographed them just moments ago. The front door creaks open by itself and a rush of warmth overtakes you.

I know your soul is not tainted. 

The voice is louder now and you can hear the soft tickle of a piano playing. You push the door open and step inside, becoming swallowed up by the foyer. The floorboards creak beneath your feet as you carefully make your way into the room. You thought that the historical society had only worked on the exterior… but the interior looked immaculate. There are a few candle sconces that are lit, offering a soft glow as your eyes adjust. The wallpaper is completely black with an intricate gold line design that shines in the darkness.

“Even though you've been told so.”

You see a flickering light from down the hall and your breath catches in your throat. Did somebody live here? It had been abandoned for ages and you hadn’t heard about it being purchased from the historical society. You creep down the hall slowly, while a little voice in the back of your mind tells you to leave. Something wasn’t right here.

“Can you hear the rumble? Can you hear the rumble that's calling?”

The singing is getting louder now, more confident. You begin to feel like whoever is singing knows that you’re here… and maybe they are serenading you? The piano tune carries down the hall, beckoning you closer. 

You peak inside the doorway, eyes falling to the roaring fireplace first before trailing to the grand piano the music was coming from. A breath catches in your throat as your gaze meets the being playing the piano.

He continues to play as if he hadn’t noticed you, the dark and rich tones filling the air. The first thing you notice is the dramatic paint that decorated his face. The light from the fire highlights the white paint, while the black blends in with the darkness behind him. A few loose strands of his jet black hair shake as his head bobs along with the melody. The music starts to grow louder and louder, roaring through the room. 

His eyes dart up to meet yours and it nearly takes your breath away. There is an intensity to them that you’ve never seen or felt before, the mismatched gaze seemingly staring deep inside of you. His white eye appears to be glowing while his green one was softer but icey. You feel you can’t look away from them, even if you wanted to (but you don’t want to). His eyes are so captivating that you almost feel comforted by them.

He starts to sing now, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart, I can see through the scars inside you.

I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart, I can see through the scars inside you.”

His playing starts to slow, finishing out the song on a more soft, gentle note. You feel warmth bloom in your chest and a blush rises to your cheeks as you finally dart your eyes away from his. 

“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know anyone lived here – I just heard the music and wandered in.” You feel a deep sense of embarrassment as you keep your eyes on the floor. “I’ll go now.”

“Are you here alone, tesorino?” His accented voice is silky smooth, his eyes scanning you up and down. 

“Yes.” Your voice comes out only slightly louder than a whisper. 

He chuckles darkly as he pushes himself to his feet from the piano bench, smoothing his hair back into place with a gloved hand. He looks like a man from another time judging by his outfit; his black frock coat looking immaculate, paired with a white button down, black slacks and spats over his shoes. 

“Why would you come to this… wretched place alone?” He sounds amused, creeping even closer to you with a small smirk.

You start to get goosebumps as he approaches you and you start to get the feeling that you’re in some kind of danger. His gaze seems so strong, though, you have a hard time steering your eyes away from him. You feel paralyzed almost, like your feet are stuck to the floorboards. 

“O-oh, um… I was just writing. This seemed like a good place to get some ideas for a spooky story.” You sound embarrassed as soon as the words leave your lips, a faint blush rising to your cheeks. “But, I definitely have to get going, so sorry to intrude.” You finally find your footing and take a step backwards out of the door frame.

“No, no, stay.” His voice sounds so powerful to you, immediately stopping you in your tracks. He reaches a hand out to you, his eyes softening as his smile grows. “Did you like my song, little lamb? I’ve been working on it for a long time.” He is absolutely oozing charm, making it nearly impossible to resist him.

Still, you are able to hesitate for a moment before you place your hand in his. Even though he is wearing gloves, you can feel the chill of his skin which sends shivers through your body. “Y-yes I did. I heard it from outside… it made me want to come in and check things out.” 

“Mmm. Bene.” He purrs as he brings your hand to his lips, kissing it softly without taking his eyes off of yours. You start to feel a bit hazy, the coldness that had once spread through your body fading into the most comforting warmth you have ever felt. He smiles even wider, his fangs practically shining in the light from the fireplace. “Cozy in here, is it not?”

Words have completely failed you. All you can do is nod at the man, sucking in a deep breath as your eyes start to grow heavy. He tugs you in close to him by your hand, settling his hand on your waist while the other lightly caresses your cheek. Your hand falls to his chest and your eyes widen in shock by the sudden movement.

His touch feels like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. It scares you how much you crave it; how much you want him to keep touching you and to never stop. Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest despite the overwhelming feeling of comfort that has fallen over you.

“You know… I typically take great pride in tearing intruders limb from limb.” One of his fingers drifts down your check, settling on your chin to tilt your head up. “But, typical intruders tend to be the type to come here on a dare or for some kind of attention.” He tilts his head, his duochrome eyes wandering your face. “You’re not typical, are you, little lamb?”

Before you’re able to respond, his lips meet yours, gripping your chin even tighter. His lips feel so soft and are cold to the touch. It’s a short, gentle kiss before moving to kiss your cheek, then right below your ear.

“Perhaps, I will show you some mercy, then.” His breath is hot on your ear before his mouth moves lower to your neck. You brace yourself against the wall as your heart starts to thud in your chest. Conflicting feelings run through your mind, fear and attraction mixing in a way you have never experienced before.

He peppers a few wet, open mouthed kisses on your neck then settles on one spot. You feel his tongue against your skin as he growls deeply against you, pinning you against the wall. A whimper bubbles up in your throat as you feel his sharp fangs press into your skin and your hands instinctively reach out to grab hold of his jacket. 

He chuckles against you and sinks his fangs in even further, as deep as they will go. Your body lurches, burning pain shooting through you as you cry out sharply. You curl your fingers into his jacket, nails digging into it in an attempt to hold yourself steady.

Blood pools from the wound and you can feel his tongue hungrily lap at it between gasps and moans. You feel yourself start to become weak, the pain starting to fade as you begin to feel a warm sensation wafting through you. Part of you also feels a bit sad for the man; he seems so unbelievably hungry, like he hasn’t eaten in ages.

His thumb creeps up from your chin to your lips, lightly brushing over them. You part them only slightly and it slips in, pressing down on your tongue. You surprise yourself by moaning deeply at the touch, your eyes fluttering shut. He removes his fangs and drags his tongue up your neck, moving his hand to grip the back of your head.

“You are truly delectable, teserino.” He hisses into your ear.

Your mouth is still parted as he leans back to look at you, his eyes shining brightly. His hair that had looked so carefully styled has now fallen into his face. Blood is smeared across his lips, chin and cheeks. You can feel how much he wants you, how much he needs you buzzing through him. 

He doesn’t waste another second, his mouth crashing against yours as he firmly grabs you by the hip. You can taste your own blood on his tongue as he kisses you hungrily, tugging harshly at your hair. A low growl rumbles up from his chest, rolling his hips against yours. You can’t resist him anymore, softly sighing as you allow yourself to get lost in his touch.

You squeak as he nips your button lip, feeling just how sharp his fangs are. He tugs on it as he breaks from the kiss, releasing his grip on your hair. His predatory expression has softened as he gazes at you, his eyes burning into yours.

“Come, agnellino.” 

He extends a gloved hand to you. This feels like your last chance to turn back, to book it to your car and slam on the gas. But… the way he is looking at you like you are the only thing that matters in the entire world…

You take his hand and he squeezes it gently before leading you back into the room. The fire is roaring now, crackling loudly as he lowers himself on to the rug in front of it, pulling you into his lap in the process. His hands are immediately roaming your body, pinching and massaging, drawing soft, sharp moans from you. 

You press your back against his chest as his head falls to your neck, his lips brushing against it. Panic twists in your stomach, bracing yourself for the eventual bite when you notice his hand rubbing the inside of your thigh. 

“Do not be afraid.” 

His breath is hot on your ear as his fingers inches closer to where you desperately want him to touch. You whine, surprising yourself, bucking your hips to meet his touch. He chuckles darkly into your ear as he gently palms your clit through your pants, a sharp breath escaping your lips.

“So very needy, little lamb.” He is taunting you, his fingers slipping into your pants and inching down your underwear. “It’s okay… I’m needy, too.” His teeth scrape against your neck as he presses a finger to your clit.

A shameless moan escapes your lip as you snake your hand behind you to run through his hair. He sucks at the base of your neck, hard enough to leave a mark but not enough to draw blood. One of his fingers slips easily inside of your wet cunt, eliciting a low groan from you.

“How long has it been since someone touched you like this, agnellino?” He purrs, another finger sliding in with ease. You try to answer but as soon as your mouth opens he curls his fingers inside you and the words catch in your throat. He starts to work his fingers in and out of you, curling them sharply to get you to make that sweet sound again while his other hand massages your breast through your shirt.

You have been reduced to a mewling puddle in his lap, your back arched against his chest as you pull lightly at his hair. For being a monster and all, you are surprised with how gentle he is with you. His mouth hangs open against your neck, feeling his fangs but he doesn’t bite you, seemingly more interested in pleasing you.

“Be a good little lamb and cum for me.” He whispers husky into your neck, slipping a third finger inside of you and curls into that spot again. You body spasms and you cry out, digging your nails into his scalp as you cum.

Your left gasping, catching your breath as he presses wet, open mouthed kisses up your neck to your ear.

“Good girl.”

He bends you over, pulling your pants and underwear off as he does, causing you to squeak. You get yourself settled, then lean your ass back to press into his crotch, feeling his hard cock brush against it. He groans and ruts against you needily. You glance over your shoulder, your eyes meeting his as his mouth twists into a smirk. He undoes his pants, his hard cock springing free.

“You like what you see, eh?” He presses the tip of it against your wet cunt and you can’t help but moan deeply. His hands roam your ass, pinching it before giving it a hefty thwack with the palm of his hand. “Lean back onto my cock, tesorino.”

You do as you’re told, shuddering as you stretch around him. A low growl rumbles in through his chest, bottoming out with a hiss. His hand snakes to grab you by your hair, yanking it back. You moan, eyes squeezing shut as he holds you there, his cock buried deep and your hair pulled tight.

“You follow directions so well, agnellino.” He snaps his hips viciously and you gasp sharply, feeling his cock twitch inside you. “I must warn you, I won’t be as… gentlemanly this time. Is that okey dokey, cara?” 

“Ye-” You hardly get the word out before he starts to roll his hips into you hard, yanking your hair again. His thrusts are unrelenting, the sound of slapping skin filling the room as you try your best to grip onto the rug to keep yourself from being fucked across the floor.

He lets go of your hair, snarling wildly as he shoves your head to the floor, angling your hips even higher to snap into you at a deeper angle. You are a complete mess, not recognizing the shameless sounds that are pouring from your lips. You can feel yourself close to coming undone again, digging your nails into the rug.

“M-merda, you feel so good.” He growls, his thrusts growing more frantic as his hands grip your hips. “C-cum again for me, agnellino. Cum on my cock.” He slips one hand beneath you, his thumb finding your clit and giving it a rough swipe. This is all it takes to tip you over the edge, your body trembling as he continues to roughly pound into you.

His body jerks, burying himself inside of you as he moans deeply. You can feel his cock throbbing as he cums, emptying himself. He holds you there for a moment, both of you catching your breath as you come down from your highs.

You find yourself getting comfortable against the rub, feeling soft against your cheek before he quickly flips you over. He pins you down by the shoulders, straddling you as he gets right in your face. His lips are pulled into a tight smile, his eyes shining down at you.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten how delicious you are, little lamb.” He says with a snarl before sinking his teeth into your neck. You are feeling too hazy, too overcome with sensations to fight back. Your visions start to blur, slowly drifting away into the night.

**

Your eyes open slowly as they adjust to the darkness. You find yourself under a blanket with your head in the vampire’s lap. He is absent-mindedly stroking your hair with one hand while the other is holding your notebook open, reading glasses perched on his nose.

“H-hey, that’s mine…” You lift your head weakly, shifting in his lap. He looks down at you in amusement and moves the notebook out of your reach. He is now gently caressing your cheek with his thumb as his eyes shine down on you.

“Little lamb, you are so very sleepy.” His voice sounds so smooth, so soft, like it’s singing you back to sleep. 

Your eyes grow heavy again as you gaze up at him, resting your head back into his lap. You realize that his hands are bare, the coldness of them coupled with the heat coming from the fireplace is the perfect combination of coziness. He continues to coo more sleepy encouragements until you drift back into slumber. 

**

The next time you wake up, you’re outside, seated on the front porch of the manor with your head leaning against one of the posts. You are clutching your notebook as you slowly wake up incredibly confused. 

Climbing to your feet, you look inside one of the front windows. The foyer is completely trashed, broken glass and wood scattered throughout. You take a step back, letting out a small sigh.

“It was a dream.”

You don’t know whether you are disappointed or relieved that what happened had all been in your head. The air is cold on your cheeks as your gravel crunches beneath your feet. Before reaching your car, you turn to take one last look at the manor. It stands silently, cold and dark. 

Empty.

You thumb the pages in your notebook as you turn back to your car before your finger catches on something. You flip open to the page and your blood runs cold. Written in immaculate cursive on the page is:

A candle casting a faint glow

You and I see eye to eye

Can you hear the thunder?

How can you hear the thunder that's breaking?

Now there is nothing between us

From now our merge is eternal

Can't you see that you're lost?

Can't you see that you're lost without me?

-iii

You turn around once again, eyes falling to the manor. For a brief moment, you think about going back inside.

#terzo x reader #i know i know #it's a very generic fic title but!!! it makes sense! #terzo #ghost fanfic #ghost fan fiction #ghost fanfics #ghost fanfiction #mdni #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iii x reader

[amberstormblade]

Hey! Here's part two for that TMSP fic I wrote earlier! I'll leave a link to part one here in a sec! Enjoy! :3

Edit: Here's Part One!

Ruby’s day had been going quite well! He was feeling a lot better and was finally able to get out of bed. Although he was still a bit achy, getting to just walk around with Vintage made everything worth it. Some of the other members of their little town even joined in, it seemed like only Viking was missing. It wasn’t until Vintage had mentioned that they needed some materials for a build they were working on that things went wrong.

Climbing down through the cactus farm left the little group scrambling to adjust after coming from the late afternoon sun and soon they were all stumbling their way over to the chests lining the wall when Box spoke up. 

“Do ya hear that? Mighty strange noises ya got down here.” He looked around as if trying to locate it but not immediately seeing anything. 

“What do you mean? I don’t-” Ruby started but they were quickly cut off by Vintage

“It sounds like… crying, almost. It’s faint, but I can definitely hear it.”

Ruby looked at Jay but he just shrugged, unable to hear anything either.

“Yeah! Maybe one of our neighbors is in a bit of trouble! Let’s go check it out.” Without waiting for an answer, Box ran over to the tunnel leading to the clock tower. The rest of them followed after, the sound getting louder as they approached. While the other three were distracted by the massive tower hanging from the ceiling, Ruby’s eyes locked onto something at the bottom of the cavern. The blue and yellow mass was shaking next to a pool at the bottom, tears in his clothes showing that he had most likely fallen down the side of the cavern at some point. He seemed to be weakly gripping his head, fingers tangled in his wild mess of hair, showing that this had been going on for a while. 

“Viking!” His name tore itself from her lips as Ruby saw her closest friend fall limp. Jay had to hold her back from practically throwing herself down the pit and instead, they all carefully rushed down the stairs haphazardly carved into the wall. Running over, Ruby collapsed next to Viking, his knees practically giving out as he rushed to make sure he was even still breathing. When that other person had told him to make sure Viking didn’t kill anyone, Ruby never imagined Viking himself would have to be put on that list. 

Placing a hand on his forehead, Ruby gasped. “He’s burning up! Ca-can you guys help me get him back to the surface? I don’t think being down here is any good for him. “

Box immediately scooped him up like he was nothing while Jay and Vintage helped Ruby back to his feet. Together, the group made their way to the surface, material collecting forgotten for the moment, and towards Ruby’s house as it was close and didn’t have a bed on the roof. No one really knew why he thought that was a good idea. Box placed him on Ruby’s bed and then took a step back as she sat down next to him. He was pale, dark circles under his eyes making it clear he hadn’t been sleeping well. His eyes were scrunched tight and his breath came out in short pants. It was clear that he wasn’t doing well.

After looking him over, Ruby spoke. “I-I didn’t realize, I mean- He seemed tired yesterday but not like this!? I need-” 

Vintage cut them off, “What you need to do is take a deep breath, and know that we’re here to help. What do you need us to do?”

“Okay, okay um- Jay, can you go to Viking’s house and see if he has any extra potions? I kinda burned through all of mine.” Jay nodded and dashed out the door. “Box, can you um-um-um oh! We should make some fresh soup! Can you help gather some ingredients for it! Lots of fresh veggies! And Vintage, you can help me make it! We can start prepping the broth!” Soon, everyone was working, doing their best to help out their fallen neighbor. A cool cloth had been placed on his forehead and the two in the house kept throwing glances at him but he never seemed to change. Box returned first and the soup was well underway when Jay came back. 

“Alright, so, I got the potions, actually had to brew up some more because he was running low but, it seems like he’s already taken a lot of them? There were empty bottles all over his house, it’s actually a bit concerning.” Jay gives a nervous laugh, not sure what to do with this information. 

Everyone seems to pause at this. If Viking had been using potions to combat whatever this was and they hadn’t worked then that was bad news. Any number of things could be happening to him and even Viking himself might not know what it is. Before anyone could speak, however, a groan suddenly came from the direction of the bed. All heads whipped towards the source as Viking started to shift, hands coming up to clutch his head. He started to violently shake as tears began pouring down his face. He started moving around so much that he almost fell off the bed, only stopped by Box jumping into action. The two were now on the ground with Box holding him up. 

“Hey there! Don’t be doing tha-“ Box cut himself off as he got a good look at Viking’s face. “Oh… now that’s- that doesn’t look quite right.” A twinge of concern leaked into his voice. “Eyes don’t normally change quite like that.” 

At this point, everyone rushed over to try and see what he was talking about. Viking’s eyes were wide and unseeing, almost as if someone was forcing them open. They kept darting around as if searching for something but never latching on to anything. The most worrying part was the color. His usually yellow eye seemed to almost be flickering, looking a bright green at times while the blue one seemed to have the same color slowly pulsing around the pupil. All the while, he was gripping his head tight enough that they all worried he was going to tear out chunks of his hair. 

His eyes caught onto Ruby. They reverted to normal for a split second and then went back to their strange and colorful battle as things seemed to get worse. He started whimpering through gritted teeth and thrashing around as much as he could. It almost looked like he was fighting with himself, and losing. Box had given up on trying to hold him still at this point and was just staring in shock along with the others. Ruby did her best to approach, trying not to get hit by his spastic movements.

“Viking?” their voice shook seeing him like this, but they pushed on. “Hey, I don’t know if you can hear me but I think I know what’s going on? Well, maybe not know but I have a guess? You- you need to sleep Viking, do you understand? Just- it would be for the best if you just went to sleep.” At this, he seemed to panic, frantically trying to put space between himself and Ruby while trying to cover his head. He tried to say something but his voice was still shot, the only noise coming out was a hoarse rasping thing. Upon trying to stand he slipped, slamming his head on a nearby barrel as he fell. “Oh gosh! Is he dead?” Shrieked Jay as Viking landed with a sickening thwack back on the floor. The poor farmer seemed stuck between rushing over to the body and backing away as quickly as possible, keeping him rooted to his spot. Vintage started making her way over to him but stopped when he dazedly sat back up. 

He rubbed the back of his head and groaned as he shakily got to his feet, eyes pinched shut. He then sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as tiredly opened his eyes. It was then that everyone noticed this was no longer Viking. A green eyed stranger stood in his place, a handful of signs at the ready for any questions that would be thrown at him.

#viking pilot #vikingpilot #rubyco #vintage applesauce #therandombox #jaydraws #I feel bad because I don't think I gave the last three as much screen time as Ruby and Viking but writing multiple characters is hard #Twitch smp #fanfic #I never know how to tag this stuff T^T #Let me know if I need to tag other things or something

[pynkricee]

Permanent Red Stain: Part 3

(WARNING: TAGS: Slutty, Choso smut, bossy choso, sexy choso , 18+, Rough Sex. Unprotected sex, fluff)

KyiGo, is a woman in her 30's, divorced from her ex after 5 years of marriage, leaving her with a two year old daughter to raise. After a year of being single, trying to find self-love and her self-worth again, she finally wanted to step back out into the world and discover something worth wild. From understanding her hatred to understanding the person that it turned her into, she will always try and do what's best for her baby girl. Even if it meant sacrificing her happiness? Even if that may mean stepping into a new love she never imagined? Or breaking the cycle of being afraid to love again....

“So….what would you say to letting me take you out?” -Choso 

“So..Did you fuck her yet?”

“No…Gojo..’DAMNIT’! How many times are you going to fucking ask me that?” Satoru Gojo was the type that gave no fucks when it came to sexual emotion. He was pretty swift at personally turning his emotions off when it came to certain women. Probably because he was hurt so much, and most of it was due to the way he looked and how he carried himself. From my understanding and the little things he's said to be, Sato had a habit of keeping his guard up even if he felt like he was in a position to make the best out of a bad relationship. That was just him. He was waiting for the right one. 

 Gojo, stood 6’2, blonde, blue eyes and he was a sweet soul. He mostly stayed to himself and worked everyday, every week.  He was the official type who liked his peace and so did I. That was probably one of the only things that we had in common. 

“Until you tell me that you fucked her….” Gojo was my boy and one of the only people that I actually associated myself with. Satoru was a soft man...and he tried to hide it with everything fiber in his being. Coming to the tattoo shop was a way I could tell that he released his steam from his everyday life.  Not that I could blame him for it because I used to be in the same position he was in emotionally. 

Preparing my ink needles for tomorrow's appointments, I decided to close up shop early tonight for my date I had scheduled with  KyiGo. With Gojo being my left hand man, my brother Yuji would come in tonight and clean up a few retouches I had scheduled. Next to Gojo, Yuji was clean and crips with his work, when he wasn't being a smart ass to all the women who came in. I swear at times the women just came in to fuck with us like we were the “New Blood” in the city. This wasn't motherfucking Vampire Diaries let alone Twilight. So if they weren't with their boyfriends on the weekends, all the local women were hanging out at our shop for the night. (If you get it then you get it. It got to the point to where it was fucking annoying.)  

Jumping down into my tattoo chair, almost knocking it off its hinges, Gojo was being too nosey for his own good. 

“You going to tell me what she looks like or am I gonna have to guess? You know I don't like guessing…” 

I sighed sucking in my bottom lip. Just thinking about what she looked like made my dick hard at times and if Gojo noticed my reaction at the slightest mention of her.  “I'm not going to tell you, but I can show you.” Unlocking my phone I handed it to him. I noticed his eyes glimmered and he became quiet. His light blue eyes looked my way with his light bangs slightly pulling a shadow over them. (I've never seen him look at me like this before. Ever. Kinda made me wonder if he knew this girl.) 

“Does she know you have a picture of her?” He asked, slightly hanging the phone over his fingers.

I sneered the side of my lip up, snatching my phone back from him, sliding it into my back pocket. 

“Of course she does. I actually sent it to her.” (A picture of her and her daughter I took for family-fun day.)

“She's beautiful…” He sighed leaning back in the chair. He turned his head lazily towards me with his arms spread out on the arm rest. He let out a small sigh from the corner of his mouth, throwing his leg around the chair. “Don't fuck this up..Cho.” He stood up patting me on the shoulder and walked over to his station. 

My throat all of a sudden became dry, as  at the drywall in front of me. 

I hope I don't fuck this up….

Yes. He finally had the balls to ask me out because lord knows I didn't have the courage right now. And of course, I said yes…

For the next week whenever I picked my daughter up from school, Choso and I were always caught having a conversation.

Whether if it was about the smallest things, even if it was him complimenting me on any changes I made to my appearance. I could have changed my earrings and he would tell me how pretty they were or how they complimented my skin tone. I noticed my body language started to get more relaxed around him as well. I wasn't as tense as I was from the first time I met him. 

And for him having my number…..

He did call me when  it came to my daughter. Luri was really a boy in a little girl's body so she was constantly hurting herself while she was at school. But that wasn't any different than it was then when she was at home. She was tough like any other child, but she had her moments when she would cry for me and he wouldn't hesitate to call me to come to the school if need be. 

Now when it comes to my ex husband, I don't talk about him. I don't think about him. I don't dream about him. I hardly breathe around him.  The only time I communicate with him is for the sake of my daughter and that was it. Anything else was pretty irrelevant. When it came down to our relationship..it was a toxic one. One that I felt like I was alone the whole time and I was the only one doing the work to make it work. I cried so many times thinking to myself that I was a failure and what I was doing wrong. (When in reality it was mainly all him. And it took me to let him go completely to realize that. ) Dealing with someone who couldn't take accountability and never wanted to talk about our issues, was mentally and emotionally draining.. it was over-stimulating in the worst way possible. I knew I wanted something better for myself. A life better for my daughter. I wanted her to see what it was like for someone to love her mother correctly that way in the back of her mind, she would only accept that love in return within her older years. That's all I wanted for my baby girl when that time came.  

Saturday night finally hit after a stressful week. It was 8pm. The stars were so bright tonight. Almost like it was a sign that this was the perfect time for our date. We decided to try something different than what we were used to. A coffee and croissant date. I thought it was the cutest idea when he texted and told me the night before. The plan was to meet up around 9pm at Castain Park downtown. This was an open park with a beautiful water fountain in the middle that stood about 20ft high. It was mainly a place where students from the university came to study during the day but at night, it was a ghost town area. 

After dropping off my daughter with my sister that night, I spent a good amount of time getting myself prepared for this date. I didn't tell my sister any details about Choso. Yes my sister Dhay and I were really close. We told each other everything even when I would come down to our sex lives, but I didn't include her in any of this yet. I wanted Choso to be all for me at the moment and me only. I wasn't ready to talk about him or introduce him to my family or even my best friend.  I just wasn't ready. 

I decided on keeping my look clean and simple for the night. Tight white long sleeve, black wide leg pant, black Dynasty Combats, and my fave black trench. The makeup was simple and sweet like honey. Mascara, a couple beauty moles added to the many I already had. A soft red lip with my fenty beauty gloss boom over it. I straightened the top of my hair so it covered some of my undercut, but not the fresh designs I had got cut in layers for tonight's date. I added a touch of my favorite Billie Ellish number 2 perfume. Not too much, but just enough to where he couldn't get enough. All in all, my prescription glasses finished the look. I was so nervous at this point that I could feel my whole body shaking as I stood in front of this 20ft fountain trying to keep warm plus keeping my damn nerves from being shot and walking off. This was the first date I've been on in a while, so you can understand my frustration. 

“Hello beautiful…” I felt a small tap on the back of my shoulder and I Instantaneously calmed down. My breathing became shallow and my heart skipped a beat. I turned around, making eye contact with choso.  “ I was hoping to make it here before you did.” He said with a slight smirk. (God this man was so beautiful.) Holding a coffee holder with what smells like two Chai lattes and two cinnamon rolls, this angel came prepared. He stood above me with his hair down today, the sides tagged behind his ears, bangs hanging softly over his eyes. A white leather jacket, with a thick black turtleneck sweater. (But not too thick that I couldn't see his build bulging through it.) Light black jeans that cuffed his ass perfectly, so perfectly I could see his print fighting for its life underneath too. Hell yeah baby….you could cut the sexual tension we had with a knife. He sported a pair of black yeezys but to top off his look with a couple of black metal rings and a pair of simple studs in his ear. I couldn't help but bite my bottom lip when I was standing in attention in his sight. I wasn't going to try to hide it. Neither was he as he licked his lips, blushing as he looked down to the ground. “ Hmmp..” that little sligh sound he always makes out the side of his mouth as he rubbed the edge of his bottom lip with his thumb. (I swear…at this point I could feel my body on fire. The things I felt in this moment, were about to push me on the verge of tears)

(…fucking intrusive thoughts…)

Taking the coffee holder out his hand, we started walking to a nearby bench to have a seat. “You look very handsome Choso.” My face turned red as we finally sat down. I handed him his latte and his cinnamon roll. “Thank you Angel Bean.” 

Angel Bean? That was a new one. But it was so cute so I couldn't complain. “So what made you pick Castain Park out of all places?” I asked as I slowly sipped my latte and brought it down from my lips, I could feel some about to drip down my chin, but before I could catch it Choso brushed his finger across my chin catching the access with his thumb, then slowly began rubbing it in his inner lip to taste. His gaze then shot up to me, sultry and low, licking his lips after. My panties were instantly wet. So wet that I knew if I weren't  wearing jeans, I'd definitely leave a permanent stain. 

He leaned back taking the sight in then sighed. “No one really comes here at night so I thought this would be the perfect place for us to get to know each other better.” He sipped his coffee, spreading his legs open.. his knee touching mine. “So how's Luri?”

“Luri?” He was really asking about my daughter. Wow! (Can you be mine now....?)

“Yes Luri”? He giggled. 

“She's fine. She's with my sister right now.”

“She's such a good kid. I really enjoy being around her.”

Those words…. Meant a lot to me. Best believe I didn't take those words lightly, but from him you could tell it was sincere. “Yes she is. She's a mommy's baby. She's my everything ..Cho.” I never really discussed my ex with Kamo. He knew very little details but that was something we both knew from body language to never touch. It was the past and it was going to stay there until it was safe to talk about. He looked at me and smiled and I gave him the warmest smile I could, as I enjoyed every bit of his company.  

We spent about another hour at the park walking and talking. At one point he grabbed my pinky wrapping around his. I couldn't help but smile. To be honest.. I haven't felt this in a long time. 

The feeling of slight comfort and protection. 

 She really….makes me feel like a normal person. I can't fuck this up. -(Choso)

“Would you like to come to my house for a little? Get you out of this cold weather and warm you up” He asked, rubbing his hands aggressively up and down my back, pulling me into his chest. God… It felt so good…

“Yes, I'd like that!” 

Entering his 2024 Honda Crosstour, the car I actually wanted for myself and baby girl, sat up in 17inch rims, was dressed in all black everything. Dark tinted windows and black leather seats. This was my dream car and it was so sexy, especially on him.  Dammit … this… this really couldn't be real, especially when he turned the Bluetooth on to Lloyd Swimming Pools. No.. so not . This couldn't be real, but the puddle that decides to drip into my underwear was. Everything was so seductive and quiet about him and it made me so nervous. 

The ride to his house was so tense we could have literally fucked in the car in the fifteen minute drive… 

It was about a fifteen minute car ride to his house. I didn't pay attention to where we were nor at that moment did I really care. All my little attention was solely on him. His sexy plump lips, his dark hair he went ahead and tied at the top of his head into a messy bun. The muscles that stiffened out his sweater as he opened the passenger door, taking off his leather jacket, while helping me out. He then took my hand walking me up to his pitch black door. I could literally feel my pussy throbbing between my legs just by standing next to him. 

Opening the door to his home he let me in first, following me after locking the door behind him. Flipping on a light switch the first thing I noticed was a large, and expensive, off-black stereo system that stood up against the wall  that he connected his phone to. It automatically started playing Neyo Say-it ….

(One of my all time favorite songs! Its almost like this man knew exactly what I liked when I needed it ..)

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him drop his jacket to the floor.

“Kyi. Go…” He softly whispered behind me, placing both of his hands around my waist, gripping me tight. His breathing started to get  heavier as his grip got even tighter. So tight I could feel his nails slightly dip into my skin.

As I turned around, looking him in his eyes as my body twisted in his grip. “Cho…so..” I said softly as my eyes met his. His eyes low, full of desire and power for me. The type of power a man has when you know he has you right where he wants you. And that's where he had me…

 He aggressively leaned in kissing my lips as I let my lips match the movement of his. The kiss was wet and nasty. Our tongues fighting each other as if they were fighting for their lives. “Choso…” I moaned in his mouth, my face pushed forcefully on top of his. My hands grabbed the back of his nape as the kiss reached a deep passion of aggression. He then threw my hands to the side, taking off my coat and throwing it to the ground as our lips were  still locked as we leaned back from each other but our tongue tips still touching.  Slowly moving his hands down my hip dips, he gripped his fingers under my ass, lifting me up, walking me through a dark hallway. I felt this intense rage throughout my whole body as he carried me. Lifting my shirt over my head, I threw it on the floor and started to get aggressive as I grabbed the side of his face forcing him to put his back against the wall. My mouth went for the right side of his neck, my tongue engulfing every inch of him, as the taste of him rolled up from his collar bone, right below his ear where I softly bit into him. 

“Fuuuuuuuckkk….” He moaned out loud still having a grip on me. With his moan I bit harder which caused him to spin me into the wall. I swear for a split moment he had slightly knocked me out but when I came to, his face was not only just worried in that instant but he didn't want it to stop. I could feel the wall dent in behind me as he used one leg to hold me up and used his other hand to tear my bra completely off. His beautiful low eyes stayed fixed on mine as he then carried me to the bedroom. 

“Are.. you okay? I didn't mean to hurt you..” He whispered heavily in my ear as he held me in his grip. 

“It's okay..” I whispered back. My voice was shaken with anticipation of what was to come next, as I wrapped my arms around his neck. 

Opening the door with one hand he quickly threw me on his bed, taking my underwear off with my pants and shoes. He flipped the light switch on and stood there quietly for a split second, sizing me up  while I laid completely naked on his bed. 

“You're so fucking beautiful KyiGo and don't ever let anyone ever tell you any different.” I could feel my pussy leaking all over his bed with those words that just came from his lips.  My nipples. hard for him. My mouth, watering for him. My mouth needed to taste him and every part of his body needed to feel him. My body was shaking uncontrollably.  My pussy throbbed to the point to where it felt like it had a heartbeat of its own. 

He began to undress, taking off his sweater and tossing it to the closet door. His body was amazing. Especially the tattoo that tied around his waist. His thick fingers started undoing his belt on his pants, to finally dropping his pants with his underwear to the floor. Stepping out of them he walked up, his dick slapping his inner thighs. His dick was huge and the grith was deliciously thick. My eyes widened with fear at first, but as I calmed down, I felt it was just enough to fill me the way I needed to be filled. I happened to notice he also had a tattoo of a dove right above his waistline. It was so delicate but it was perfect for his stature. I couldn't take my eyes off it as my breathing became heavy, feeling the touch of his cool hands spreading my legs apart. 

“Look at me…” He whispered in a soft tone, using one finger to lit my chin up, making full eye contact with him. While using his other hand to take his dick, rubbing it against my sobbing wet clit. 

“Yes..Cho..”

“Don't stop looking at me ..”

I nodded. Obeying every command he told me. Gripping the sheets above my head with that one hand, he swiftly interested himself in me with the other. 

“Shiiiiiiiit Choso!” I moaned loudly, arching my back as my breast set up straight to his face. In that instant he shot his arm under me thrusting in harder as he groaned steering up the side of his face as he groaned deeply. (God he was so sexy when he made that face.) He moved his grip up my back forcing me to release my arch so now my focus was back on him. My legs arched around his waist pulling him in deeper as my mouth connected back with his. He began to kiss me harder as he hit my spot, moving his throbbing penis in and out of me as my body began to shake with his movements. “You feel so fucking good Choso…”

“ Tell me…” He began to pant, his mouth open as he looked down into my eyes. “ Tell me what you want..” He asked as our bodies continued to rock together, shaking his bed more violently. “Tell me what you want so I can give it to you”

“I want you to fuck me Choso…!” He leaned over licking my top lip. His thrust slowed as he wrapped his arm under my leg, pulling them over his shoulder. We both let out a loud Gasp of pleasure as if felt like he was hitting past my g-spot as he sped up. My hips matching his pace the best way they could. “Please Don't ..fucking stop…” I was cut off by my own cry as he bent down placing his tongue in my mouth. Sweat dripped from his forehead to mine. 

“ Fuck baby you feel so good.” He placed his other hand down on my stomach to keep me from moving as my clit quickly rubbed up against him as he used his force to move upward. “ Cum for me baby… I need you to cum.” I could tell he was about to give out at any moment as I felt his body shaking. “Fuuuckkk KyiGo you're so wet for me….” I tried to press his body back with my hand but he wasn't fucking having that. He lowered his face to mine, our noses touching. “ Move your fucking hand..” He said in a sultry, sexy ass voice, that made me feel like I had no choice but to obey him. “Now.. be a good girl..” He started moaning loudly.. “ Cum for me..”

I couldn't hold it any longer. Gripping the sheets with both hands, my eyes began to roll in the back of my head. Biting my bottom lips hard I felt my orgasm finally burst from underneath me all over him. My body began to shake violently as he suddenly grabbed my hips, pressing his fingers deep into my sides. My eyes filled with tears and my lips trembled as my pussy started to leak on his dick that was still throbbing inside of me. 

“Choso… baby… Im cumming.." I cried out loud as one of my hands tightly gripped his arms, my nails digging into his skin. 

“Fuuuckk Kyi…Shit….” He groaned out loud as his hot cum shot inside of my wet cunt. My pussy was still milking him dry as his body shook above  mine.  

He finally dropped my legs to the bed, breathing heavily with an accomplished grin on his face. Our bodies began to twitch with one another as he then collapsed onto me, both of us breathing heavily. I wrapped my arms around him, placing a kiss on top of his head. 

Shit….

#choso #chosokamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #jjk choso #choso kamo #i love choso #chosoandpynk #choso and pynkricee #choso x reader #choso x smut #choso x black!reader #choso jjk #choso jujutsu kaisen #chosojjk #bossychoso #dominatechoso #choso x female reader #choso x black y/n #chosoxblackwoman #yandere #yandere choso #agressive choso #Spotify #unprotected sex #jjk sex #gojo #gojosatoru #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader