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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

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Hiiii, I loveeeee ur work ❤️

I was thinking about a head cannon of how some of the mw2 characters (ghost, soap, König, etc) would react to their partner sending them a nude photo?👀👀👀

Sorry if you did this already but I’m pretty sure you haven’t tho cuz I definitely would have read it already 😭

MW2 Reaction to Receiving a Special™ Photo from Their S/O

Warnings: 18+ (just to be safe), Non-Specific/Explicit Implications of Smut, No Pronouns used for Reader except 'You', Singular Mention of Graves Throwing Himself off a Cliff, Dominant! MW2, Submissive! MW2, Dominant! Reader, Submissive! Reader, Profanity, etc.

Ghost

He will literally stare bug-eyed at the picture you’ve sent him like 👁️O👁️

Since it’s a physical photograph, he keeps it on him like a chapstick, which is to say all the time.

He isn’t risking ANYONE besides himself seeing it.

And when he’s about to embark on a mission, he keeps it tucked into his vest right where his heart is so that it’s practically part of him.

He likes to think that, somehow, you can hear – feel – his heart beating, know that he’s still alive and fighting so that he can come home and see you.

And when he returns from a mission and goes to his quarters, he has some…alone time.

You know, to really study the picture.

Not that he doesn’t know every curve and edge of your body already.

But that doesn't stop him growling your name into the pillow as he rocks against it, a hole cut into the bottom of it – a poor imitation of you.

A makeshift lover.

If anyone ends up seeing that picture – if they stole it from him, if by some act of God (because that’s what it’ll take) it slipped out of his vest or pocket – they are in for a World of Pain™.

There won’t be a time they won’t flinch upon hearing Ghost’s name, or when they see his shadow like an omen on the wall as he commandeers the halls. Prowling.

He’d feel pretty guilty about someone else seeing you how he does, even if it was only for a fraction of a second.

So he’s definitely going to make it up to you when he gets back <3

König

His heart can’t take this kind of torment.

He’ll be looking down at his phone, the image of you burning into his skin like a holy artefact.

He definitely gets more jumpy around people when he has his phone on him.

Will literally clam up and shove it into the deepest recesses of his pocket if someone comes too close.

Even when your picture is safely stored behind a password-protected photo album.

He has to excuse himself from training or other commitments whenever his mind wanders back to you, and subsequently that image (which is basically all the time).

Sometimes he calls you while he’s sorting himself out.

He just needs to hear your voice – to feel closer to you.

It’s the only way he can finish.

“Engel,” he rasps, his breath stuttering, “I need you,”

And everyone just looks at him like he’s grown a third eye when he returns because, unbeknownst to him, König can’t keep quiet, and everyone who has never heard even a peep from him is suddenly aware of the carnality that lies beneath his skin, wired into his soul.

And at the centre is his love for you, boundless and overflowing so that the rest of his teammates know it, too.

Not that they mind all too much.

They all sit and think that you must be one beautiful person to evoke such a response from König.

Soap

Will tease you back.

Sends a mirror pic of him in a tight black shirt, saying something like ‘You’ll see the rest when I get home.’

Is absolutely ravenous when it comes to you.

No cap, goes absolutely ham in the shower when the image of you in nothing flashes in his mind.

His low moans are enough of a warning for the rest of the 141 to stay away for the next half an hour or so.

Aside from that, he’ll just look at the picture because he finds you beautiful.

Stares at it while he’s in bed. Laments on how much he misses you ☹️.

He’s counting down the days until he can see you again, and with each that passes, he can feel your silhouette becoming tangible in his hands, as if you were stepping out of the photo.

Sometimes, he dreams that you’re there with him, nestled between his arms.

Other times the dreams are a little more…graphic.

But Johnny can’t help it.

He just can’t contain himself when it comes to you.

Valeria

If you thought her violent tendencies could never extend to you, prepare to be amazed.

The second this woman sees what you’re trying to do – or, rather, what she thinks you’re trying to do – she is not happy.

You could have sent that image with the purest (within reason) of intentions; just letting Valeria know that you miss her, wishing her a good day – whatever.

What she sees is you trying to manipulate her by using your body as an instrument of destruction.

Dramatic, yes. But Valeria has never been one to take chances.

She’ll be deceptively calm over text: ‘Don’t tease me, Darling. You know what happens when you do.’

All day, all she can see is that image.

Whenever she turns a corner, you’re there; whenever she’s talking to someone, you’re peering at her over their shoulder; when she’s alone, you’re sat with her – on her – trying to take her attention away from her paperwork.

Redemption is a baseless concept when Valeria returns home that evening.

You will not know rest until she’s done with you.

Price

“Fuckin’ Hell, Love,” he’ll say, the darkness hanging on his voice tangible even through the voice note.

“What’ve you been up to while I’ve been away, hmm ?”

Will not rest until he knows he’s got you hot and bothered.

This entails him sending increasingly risqué images of himself; first, just one of him flexing, his arms thick and crawling with veins.

The next is of his shirt raised just below his chest, the dim light of the room keeping enough of him shrouded that his identity is unknown to all but you, his wide silhouette taking up most of the picture.

And, if you decide to be resilient against his attempts to make you feel as you have him, you’ll receive a series of menacing messages.

‘Don’t get too comfortable, Angel’, he’ll say.

‘You never know when I’ll come through that door–’

He grins as he sees you’ve read his message, hanging on his every word.

‘And ravage you.’

And you know he means it, too.

Meanwhile, he’s multitasking; keeping a clear, professional head and giving orders while resisting the primal urge to drop everything and find you.

And no amount of pleading or tears will spare you from his wrath when he returns.

Horangi

Regardless of how well the military life trained his self-discipline, nothing can dampen the sheer need Horangi feels whenever he receives a special picture from you.

I’m talking: he will literally sit in silence for ten minutes because he’s got a raging issue he needs to take care of but can’t risk anyone else seeing it.

Will thunder down the hall to the nearest bathroom when the meeting’s over and take out his frustrations there.

When he calls, you’d better pick up the first time.

If you don’t, you’ll have Hell to pay when gets home.

“Baby,” he breathes down the phone, the fog already making his mind frost over, his body burning up.

“What have you done to me–”

These brief encounters are the only thing keeping him sane while he’s away; they make him feel closer to you.

And, repaying you in kind, he returns one night, in the silence of the moon hours.

He finds you, pulls you to him, clutching on tight as you begin to wake.

And, between delirium and consciousness, his voice is all you can hear.

“Shouldn’t have tested me, Sweetheart,” he says, whispering as though partaking in a secret.

“Now I’m going to have to challenge you.” His arms are snakes as they constrict you.

“Fall asleep before I’m done with you, and I promise there will be no end to your suffering.”

Alejandro

Teasing a man as passionate as Alejandro is not going to end well for everyone involved.

Expect to receive a barrage of very choice texts back.

‘You have no idea what you’re doing to me’, he’ll say, followed by a photo of the tent in his trousers.

And a sinister: ‘But you will’.

If he’s away on business for even just a few days, he’ll go practically feral whenever he sees that picture of you.

To everyone else, he’ll be the leader Alejandro Vargas they all know him as – ruthless and righteous.

Yet, there’s something different in the way he walks as he excuses himself from the table, his destination unknown.

His gaze is narrowed and his teeth are grinding, rabid in disposition.

And when he gets home, no matter how long of a day it’s been, you’re in for a very long night.

He’ll appear behind you, a spectre, clamping a hand down on your shoulder.

“You shouldn’t test a soldier, Love,” he says, his grip tightening.

You don't turn around, an exhilarating fear keeping you frozen.

He leans down, his mouth just at your ear, his breath hot.

“Because you never know when he’ll snap.”

Rodolfo

This man is usually rather quiet and submissive when it comes to the more personal aspects of your life together.

But when you send him a picture that makes him question how long he can keep his composure for, you’re in trouble.

You’ll be receiving a phone call from a very exasperated Rodolfo, who, despite his best efforts, has succumbed to your charm.

Definitely a growler when he’s in a dominant mood.

More of a whimperer when he’s not.

At times like these, you get both.

“Darling,” he breathes, the back of his head pressed against the cold cubicle wall. “Look what you’ve done to me…”

His whining is more than enough to let you know the effect you’ve had on him.

And it’s what he says next that makes your blood run cold.

“I won’t let you get away with this.”

The husking baritone in his voice tells you he’s being truthful.

And if you try to clap back with something witty, or even an apology, Rodolfo just laughs.

“The time for mercy is long past, mi Amor,” he tells you.

“All you can do now is prepare for the Reckoning.”

Graves

This smug idiot.

Definitely smirks to himself when he gets that picture.

Has to resist the urge to show it off to everyone in the boardroom because he’s just that proud to have you as his partner.

Yes, he is hard. Yes, he’s still going to give this presentation in front of all the major shareholders.

Why ?

Because he’s Graves. Also, because he knows he has more money than everyone else in that room, and, consequently, more power.

Will shoot you back a text like: ‘Mighty fine work, Babydoll’, followed by, ‘You’re getting a promotion when I get home.’

Yes, he uses corporate jargon when discussing intimate matters.

He’s a businessman at heart, he can’t help it.

Definitely more playful than most of the others on this list.

The type to take his time with you and make you laugh while he does so.

But when he wants to be rough (and when you want him to be), he can be.

And he gets mean when he’s like that.

I’m talking hair-pulling, name-calling – basically just bullying you, but consensually.

Does his best to take care of you, though.

If he found out that he’d actually upset you, he’d literally jump off a cliff – he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

Expect many lavish gifts if this happens, though.

But don’t tell him that I told you that 👀.

Gaz

Will nearly drop his phone – it turns to butter in his hands.

He looks over his shoulder at least fifty times before he’ll allow himself to look at the photo again.

Poor boy’s face is turning red, his palms are sweating, he can’t think straight.

Paranoid 24/7 that everyone knows he has that picture of you.

But it doesn’t intimidate him enough for him to even try to keep quiet in the barracks when he has some alone time.

Similar situation to Soap; everyone knows to steer clear of whichever room Gaz was last spotted walking into for a while.

It would take him a few days for him to send a picture back.

More than likely, it’ll be of him in a scarcely lit bathroom in nothing but his boxers with a very prominent outline in them.

Followed by a text with something to the effect of: ‘Been thinking about you all night, Sweets’

And God forbid you send him another image of yourself. And definitely do not send a message saying ‘Aww, has my good boy been behaving himself ?’

Will literally send him over the edge.

The rest of the 141 can’t commandeer the bathroom for the rest of the day after that.

And when Gaz gets home, just know that your phone screen can’t protect you anymore.

Not when you have a man made of pure intellect and solid mass running full-force at you with all the pent-up energy seen only in a nuclear reactor.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

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willsdreamgirl · 8 months

Text

“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆｡˚

tommy shelby x fem!reader

you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)

18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut

cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink

word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)

a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌

you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.

you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.

your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.

they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.

everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.

when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.

your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.

a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.

what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”

tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.

a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”

it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.

needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.

when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.

the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.

dearest y/n,

i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?

all my love,

tommy shelby.

you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.

dearest tommy,

to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.

only yours,

y/n.

tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.

that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.

4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.

“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.

after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”

your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”

he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.

he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”

you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”

“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.

things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.

ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.

you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.

he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.

“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.

“mornin’, sweetheart.”

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jazjelspen · 3 months

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my angel baby [part 2]

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution: NOT PROOFREAD oh and angst hehe]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

[tags: @luujjvi @c-lunette @mokisano @ghostdoodlen @wildfire153 @anonymousewrites @bewitchedbymadness @thisbitchreallyneedssleep @22carolina08 @original-person]

[remember if you want to keep in touch with a particular series I write, let me know in comments or messages you want to be tagged! you will only be tagged once unless specified that you want to be tagged till the end of a particular series!]

(also once again, apologies if alastor’s last name isn’t actually altruist qwq it’ll stick till the end of this fic but I’ll try not to mention it as much)

For the first time in years, you feared being in heaven.

Not that you felt unsafe, just that you felt incredibly uncomfortable seeing your serial killer dad who's now a demon be invited to be in the place where light and goodness is it's main foundation.. even reassuring yourself that it was temporary didn't calm you down when you were flying away from him. For your own sake you even avoided where the welcoming was happening.

Ahh but.. it also didn't help that he was following you around after the show without you knowing.

After the angels had performed their song to welcome in the princess of hell, her apparent partner, and-- him.. everyone sort of went their separate ways and the visitors from below started to relax in their new yet temporary places of stay. You felt a bit of relief when you assumed Alastor would also be setting himself in to relax as well.

During heaven's performance you decided to take a breather at a local coffee shop, one where you thankfully always had a spot there where you could hide away from the huge windows of the cafe.

Although right after that, unbeknownst to you at the time, Alastor was looking for you, but obviously pretended as if he was looking for a good bite to eat.. unfortunately for him he had to behave and he couldn't eat a living walking thing until after they came back home.

Oh how bummed out he was.

You were in a far corner inside the shop, as mentioned before anyone that was able to look in through the windows wouldn't be able to see you since you were out of view. Drinking your favorite beverage that the shop offered and eating a filling snack to relax your body and mind. Safe to say you were now more in touch with your feelings and weren't overly panicked as you once were.

'Why is he here.. is he an advisor to the princess? a companion?.. some kind of servant?.. she's really young though, perhaps she's ward to him or something.. but she has her.. dad.. and I'm sure he must be alive still.. ' You thought, different theories and ideas passing by in and out your head trying to make sense of the situation.

'perhaps.. he's here to see me?..' you hoped, then scolded yourself right after,

'nono.. I can't be wanting that.. sure he raised you but he's a monster. he killed you, _____. get a grip..' you sighed deeply while massaging your temples in frustration 'even if he seemed to not.. have meant to do that. he tried to kill someone else anyway, that poor man could've died instead of you.' you tried to reason with yourself, coming to a single conclusion in the end.

Eyes glued to your drink. staring at it with intensity.

"I regret nothing." you claimed to yourself in a low mumble, not enough for anyone close to hear.

Ahh.. but you did miss him very much.. the version of him that you grew up with at least.

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You were in your warm and humble home with your father. It was a fairly cold night with rain dropping onto the roof of your home yet the warmth of the house seemed to make the cold seem almost cozy to you.

Your small footsteps could be heard running around the house, as your little seven year old self ran around you seemed to be giggling uncontrollably with a peculiar circular item in your hand.

"No running in the house _____, remember what I told you." Alastor exclaimed in slight irritation as he could hear you from afar while he was cleaning up the table from the dinner you two just had, he started slightly missing the times when you didn't know how to walk and when you simply just blabbered baby nonsense.. he definitely doesn't miss the sleepless nights of baby crying though.

You huffed and puffed as you then plopped the item on the sofa, it was a disk, a record. You then climbed yourself up and once your little body landed on the cushions you then picked yourself up once more to then grab the disk and turn to the small table right beside the sofa where a large phonograph rested on.

"Papa!" you exclaimed, "Papa! Music music!.." you pleaded, your little voice begging to once again turn on the music playing machine.

Alastor faintly chuckled at your little demands, amusing how such a small thing dares to command but nonetheless he found it silly at how you tried. "Yes yes my dear, I'll be right there." He then set the last few dirty dishes away to be cleaned soon since he couldn't say no to listening to some tunes before bed.

You smiled brightly as your little feet playfully tapped on the cushions, almost jumping. Noticing your developing excitement Alastor hurried over to you.

"Ah-ah-ahh, no jumping on the sofa my dear. I'm excited as well but I can't have you break your little head open, that'd be no fun at all!" Well.. that and he didn't wanna ruin his cushions, but nonetheless he cared for your wellbeing the most even if he wasn't fond of admitting it.

His hands gently took the disk from your hands, carefully setting the disk on the phonograph to have it play your favorite tunes. Once you two heard the amazing first few notes of jazz was when Alastor settled down beside you on the sofa and you started clapping in delight.

Alastor looked at you almost fondly, letting out a small huff of delight at your reactions. Your innocence seemed to be something that contained him from wanting to continue his murder spree, although his bloodlust always wins in the end, he seems to always willingly pause his life for you.

Plus, he loves jazz just as much as you do.. why would he miss out on this?

Your fit of giggles dwindled down but didn't stop, in a sudden burst of energy you jumped off the sofa and then started dancing similarly yet obviously a bit more goofy to how you've seen couples and single dancers dance in the nights of Mardi Gras or just parties your father took you when he would be invited. Your little dance moves seemed to be fiddled with confidence yet they were so off from what you were trying to attempt, nonetheless you were happy, and that's what Alastor secretly liked to see.

"Dance with me papa dance with me!" you pleaded again, your smaller hands grabbing his larger one and tugging at it, trying to get him to stand up.

"_____ darling no tugging, besides I just sat down my dear and I'm exhausted." He sighed, his constant smile always present yet he was visibly a bit tired from the day he had.

But oh how you persisted, and how darn adorable you were as a kid. "But papaaa!.. pretty please! I wanna dance how you and that singing lady did the last time we went on those big loud places!"

"Parties, dear." he corrected you, but let out a long sigh and got up. Because no matter how tired he was or how annoyed he seemed to be he didn't mind keeping you happy.

So that's what he did, he danced with you. Swinging you, twirling you around to the melody and the beat, your cheers of glee and uncontrollable laughter motived him to keep up with your excitement. Not only that but your smile, genuine and pure, it was what he needed to get himself to match your energy. Jazz music was what always connected you two and it always brought you together no matter what.

At the end of the song Alastor ended it by gently throwing you up in the air and catching you, letting you get your last giggles out. You both laughed together, your bond ever growing stronger. You truly did tame this bloodthirsty killer without even trying or knowing, of course you were too young to know.

Once the giggle frenzy ended you both finished your dancing with a long sigh, the phonograph ending it's segment. You then suddenly yawned and rested your head in the crook of his neck over his shoulder, snuggling for warmth and for a sudden need to sleep.

"Seems like my little fawn needs sleep now, almost past your bedtime young lady." Normally he'd scold you a bit more strictly as he usually did, but seeing as how you were basically ready to fall into a pile of dreams he just felt no need to do that.

"Sorries papa.. I forgot.." your little words muffled by your face hidden in his neck.

Alastor was never one for being touched, let alone hugged or snuggled. Oh but he had no right to complain, he's had you this close since you were a baby.. to him this just felt normal now.

Of course no one but you could be this close to him, you're his little girl after all.

"No need to worry, my dear." He stopped in front of your bedroom, carefully opening the door with a creak following after. With careful footsteps he walked towards your bed, pulling the blanket away to then gently place you on your cozy sheets with care.

Alastor gently moved any misplaced hairs away from your face as he then pulled your soft and warm blanket up to your neck. Your sleeping face reassuring him.

"Sweet dreams sweetheart." His usual smile softening a bit more before backing away and slowly heading towards the door of your room, lingering for a few extra seconds to take one last look at you before slowly closing the door and heading off to bed himself.

After the click of the door closing can be heard, you mumbled "Goodnight papa.." with a smile, even if in the end Alastor didn't get to hear it.

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You missed him, dearly.

A weight fell on your chest, your eyes begging to form tears. You missed when you had that childhood innocence, when you didn't know what he was capable of, when he was nothing but a saint to you.

It still hurt after all these years, you thought he was a good man.. a bit strict, blunt, a bit too true to himself and definitely peculiar but.. the Alastor that raised you would never do that. Until you were obviously proven otherwise.

Oh but I guess you were too into your reminiscing that you didn't notice the background gasps and small shrieks of surprise and fear, and you didn't yet feel the eventual stares and eerie presence right in front of you.

"What don't you regret, my dear?"

You choked on your drink in surprise almost spitting it out,

that fucking radio voice again.

For heaven's sake how did he find you?? He couldn't have seen you through the windows. Did he follow you??.. did you just not notice.. Oh geez maybe getting used to having your guard down during all your years in heaven definitely didn't help with this situation.

You continued coughing on your drink, even punching your chest a bit to get that last good cough out. The radio demon pulled the chair in front of you to sit across from you, not waiting to ask permission.

To him he didn't need to, he's your father after all.

Once you calmed down you immediately avoided eye contact, only giving him a once second glance to confirm it was him in hopes your ears were playing a trick on you-- they weren't.

"How.. how'd you find me.." you mumbled in slight fear.

"Oh how would I not! Sweetheart I'm your father of course, as your father I must have those parental instincts.. I always know where you are!" he exclaimed, seemingly proud of this.

"I'm guessing those 'parental instincts' didn't kick in when you stabbed me, huh." you spat with attitude, unafraid to be rude to him with so much sin he's committed.

A sharp static sound came from him, as if in slight shock at the disrespect and comeback you gave. "Watch the attitude young lady, you're still an Altruist you know."

You scoffed, hating at how indifferent you felt about your last name.

"Not by blood though.."

"I raised you, don't forget that." he spat back, starting to get irritated.

"And because of that I owe you?"

"Yes, yes indeed! Smart girl you are."

You scoffed at his response, finally getting the guts to look at him in the face. His appearance frightened you, disgusted you even.

Is this truly the man that raised you?

"As a matter of fact, I actually don't." you crossed your arms in annoyance and a huff. Your eyes couldn't help but to slowly drift to off to the people behind him and you see fellow angels you know continue to stare in awe or fear, of course at Alastor. With all eyes on you and mostly him it made you feel a little embarrassed. You cowered down a bit and your wings went over your head and shoulders a bit as if to hide you behind a 'curtain' of sorts.

Alastor obviously noticed this, but could care less about the stares.

You sighed, "Look, Alasto--"

"I think you mean to call me 'father'." he interrupted as he obviously seemed a bit sassy about it. "Even 'dad' is just simply fine and dandy with me!"

"No, I can't," you frowned, wishing you could "I won't. Not after what you did to me, to that man that night, and to every other poor soul you hurt."

Your face slowly scrunched up in disgust "You don't deserve my forgiveness, my mercy."

In embarrassment and feeling tears want to shed you grabbed your drink and got up to walk out, before you could get past Alastor though he grabbed your wrist harshly.

"Uh-- hey.. let go--"

"I didn't mean to do what I did, my dove." His voice turned into a weird version of gentle, almost uncharacteristically gentle. "I never intended to take your life away."

He sounded genuine.

Could he?.. Would he?..

Maybe, just maybe--

"No." you spat, "Maybe you didn't mean to hurt me, but you definitely meant to hurt others. That's something I can't forgive and I'm sure your victims wouldn't neither." you glared at him, setting your foot down. "I refuse to call you my father, not until I know that you repent for your sins but knowing you I highly doubt that." You snatched your wrist away and for a slight second you stopped caring about what others thought when they'd see this "Besides, you killed me two weeks after I turned eighteen.. don't even include the years that passed since the 30s and present time so clearly you can't control me anymore old man."

But Alastor wouldn't go down that fast nor easily.

His sharp smile widened, you felt immense dread.

"Oh little one, no matter how far you are or how much you try to disown me you are forever connected to me. I made you who you are and you can try to run and fly off however long you want but in the end you're tied to me whether you like it or not. Even in death."

He seemed deathly serious with his statements so much so that you could've sworn you could see his shadow giggling and smirking in a way that seemed even worse and more than evil.

Your breath quietly hitched in fear in noticing this to the point where it even forced you to take a step back. He let out a sinister chuckle before you couldn't help but speed out of the shop and flew out.

You couldn't handle him, he was shameless when showing this side of him.. how could he be this shameless and normal?? How could he act like this and be proud about it? He killed people and doesn't regret it, you being the only exception just didn't feel right and it wasn't fair!

Not to you.

He may have been able to silently control you and vaguely manipulate you to believe he was anything but a bad person back when you were alive and young but now your eyes are wide open and so is your heart.

You have such a bad feeling about this whole thing, he was up to no good he just couldn't be-- he had to be using the princess as an excuse to do something shitty.

Good thing you had plenty of connections, if you just played your cards right...

Hey.. wasn't there something about a court meeting happening soon?

On the other hand Alastor stayed sitting there still chucking devilishly, his intentions and true feelings smeared and unclear.

With a snap of his fingers a cup of black coffee appeared and he began drinking it with a sense of casual glee and eyes closed in delight. Until he felt eyes on him, two nearby to be exact. He opened one eye to look at the angels staring at him and they both seemed like more biblically accurate angels, both having one eye and all. The radio demon shot them an evil grin.

"Oh adolescents these days, rebellious aren't they." He cackled before going back to drinking his coffee, the angels creeped out by his interaction soon scurried away from him.

The fear. He enjoyed it, just not really from you.

(thank you all who asked for part 2!! of course I had to deliver since you all really wanted it and honestly I love adding flashbacks to memories Alastor and the reader had when they were alive, makes their ending on earth just that more painful (as if it wasn't clear I love angst). Honestly I don't mind making more parts for this! If the demand is consistent and you guys still want to keep up with it I have a few ideas to keep this going! Once again thank you so much for reading!! Now I must finish writing for other stories lolllll!)

(p.s: i highly recommend listening to any mitski song while reading this I think it fits well especially with the flashback scene hehe)

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ilovechuuyasm · 3 months

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I'm delusional, so I came up with a beautiful scenario with Alastor in which he loves the reader 😭

It's a situation where you've known him while you were still alive and you both were dating, but he died lmao.

Well, after a while, you died too, and since his death, you haven't been able to love anyone else. You went to hell after death and heard about some Hazbin Hotel on the news. Normally, you would ignore it completely, but your attention was caught by a host who looked remarkably like your beloved one from Earth, but more demonically, and what caught your attention even more was that he had the same name.

You went to the hotel because apparently everyone was welcome there, but when you got there he wasn't there because he had something to do. Everyone was shocked that you were looking for him and that's how you found out what he was famous for in hell. This only confirmed your suspicions that you had found your loved one after death, not many people could do such a fucked up thing, and you knew Alastor well, you just hoped he would recognize you too.

Finally, Alastor returned to the Hotel, before anyone could tell him about your arrival, when you saw him, you couldn't help but hug him out of nowhere. Bro was shocked. Before he even realized who you were, he pushed you away from him in one move. You saw a huge smile on his face, but he looked annoyed.

"Huuh, who might you be-?" He started talking and looked at you "Y/N..?" he asked quietly, in disbelief. When you nodded he hugged you again. "You died?" he asked.

"Umm, yeah?" You chuckled "And you killed a large part of the rulers of hell?"

While you were asking each other questions, wanting to immediately learn as much as possible about each other, everyone in the hotel was even more shocked, seeing Alastor hug a random person and being so nice to them.

"You look impressive as a radio demon" you said, judging his appearance and you touched his ear "And you have such adorable fluffy deer ears!" He still had that wide smile on his face, but you knew you were embarrassing him. A quiet "aww" could be heard coming from Charlie in the background.

"HA! I think we have a lot to talk about, darling!" Alastor said to you "In a more private place..." His eyelid twitched slightly, but you weren't afraid of him lmao, so you hugged his hand gently and you went to the room he called his own.

"Well, darling, what brought you to this hotel?" He asked, when you were admiring his half-forest room "Are you looking for redemption?"

"Uh, not actually, I just wanted to make sure it was you who.. was in the advertisement. What are you doing here anyway? Don't you think this idea is quite... ridiculous?" you chuckled.

"That's exactly what I think! But I have my reasons for being here, you'll understand everything soon, darling HaHa!" he looked at you, still smiling "And watching these people seek redemption is very entertaining" he tilted his head slightly.

"Yeah.." you randomly petted his hair, touching his ears, because for some reason you were so fascinated about them and you noticed Alastor squinting gently. (Sorry, I love the headcanon that his ears are sensitive and he reacts like a pet being scratched behind the ears) "Okay! Why don't you introduce me to your... friends?" you asked.

The hotel members were shocked again when Alastor told them that you were his partner, but Charlie was very happy that another person would stay at the hotel.

And this is something like the second part (self-advertisement):

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #delulu #alastor x y/n #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel

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ivysoul · 10 months

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⋆ ★ 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐅. includes afab!reader, doggy, mating press, a bit rough n unprotected sex, light degradation, light edging, squirting, size kink.

930 words.

༊*·˚ The mission went south near the end. It started out strong, with the intel you all had, you were able to locate the man you were looking for without any complications. However, just as you were about to escape, you got cornered. You fought it out as best you could, but there was no escaping with him. You had to leave him and slip into the woods behind you. Sure, you were lucky you were all alive, but there was still that frustration on the surface of everyone’s mood.

Everyone had their own method to taking out their frustration. Some took to the gym, pushing themselves to their limit with weights and cardio. Others pushed themselves to their limit in other ways which in included alcohol at the bar.

Simon, however, looked to your cunt as a relief.

The gym just wasn’t working anymore after being in there all day. He’d used every machine twenty times over, lifted the heaviest he could, beaten every punching bag in there, yet nothing was satiating his frustration.

Until you walked up to him, offering him a sandwich you had made for him, muttering a small “Thought you might be hungry, that’s all,” and turning around to leave with a flustered look on your face. He knew right then that he was in trouble. He knew that once he tossed the sandwich to the ground and moved to throw you over his shoulder and made his way back to his barracks that he was going to have to deal with shit from Price later. But he didn’t care. How could he, with the way your cunt squeezed him like vice as he pounded into you from behind?

It was forceful and rough, the way he bullied his cock into your tight cunt. He watched the way the flesh of your ass jiggled every time he pushed his pelvis against it. The way your back arched impossibly further, wanting everything and more that he was giving you. It made the warm feeling in his lower stomach start to burn. Groans and moans left his throat, unfiltered words spilling out of his mouth uncontrollably.

“Such a good little thing,” he grunted. “Lettin’ me use you like this. Like you’re jus’ some toy, hm? I know ya fuckin’ love it. Y’such a cockwhore. S’all you are.”

The pleasure you were feeling was indescribable. Every push of his hips had his cock somehow going deeper than the last. You could feel his veins, they were probably imprinted on your walls by now. The squelching sounds were enough to give away how fucking needy you were if nothing else.

He brought one hand up to the space between your shoulders, pushing down on it roughly and thus shoving the side of your face against the pillow. His other hand stayed on your hip and massaged the flesh. The way his hand in between your shoulders took up most of the space there had his head spinning. God, he loved how he was so much bigger than you. Towering over you at any given chance always made his chest burn with lust, but this, finally having it happen and realizing just how much bigger he truly was than you, spurred him on to no end.

His hips were moving erratically. They snapped against you harshly in quick motions. You felt like you were being split open with his girth and you were honestly surprised he even fit inside you, considering how you reacted when he initially pulled his pants down. All he said was “I’ll make it fit,” in response to your concerns about him being too big to fit inside you. And damn was he right.

He moaned deep from his chest at the feeling of you tightening around him. “Y’close, baby? Can feel you squeezin’ me tight. I can barely even move, you’ve got me sucked in so much,” he mocked, lifting his balaclava to rest over his nose so he could place sloppy kisses along your neck. He moved to have his mouth beside your ear, and you could feel his warm breath tickle your skin. And in between his low whimpers and groans, he said: “Too bad you ain’t cummin’ till I say you can.”

In one swift motion, he flipped you over onto your back and pushed your knees flush against your chest, moving onto his heels. All the air was pushed from your lungs as he shoved himself back into your pussy in one go, no regard in going slow for you. He cared more about his own pleasure than yours right now, if he was being honest.

With the new position, you could feel him up to your throat. He was so damn deep, fucking into you expertly and having you see stars. All you could do was grab onto the sweat-drenched blankets below you and scream, begging him to let you cum, over and over. He didn’t budge.

“You’re such a—fuck—such a needy fuckin’ whore f’me, aren’t ya? Impatient. Can’t even wait a few more minutes like a good girl. Go ‘head, then. Cum if you wanna cum so badly.”

Your body didn’t miss a beat after he gave you the go-ahead. Within seconds, you were spasming on his cock, legs shaking in his hold, vision going blurry. You could hear him chuckle above you, the faint sound bringing you back to earth.

“This fuckin’ pussy… You just made a right mess everywhere, sweetheart,” Simon mused. “But you still want more, don’t you? Yeah. Y’can’t get enough of my cock, huh, baby?”

☆ — © saintlulls, 2023 - don’t repost, translate, copy, or claim.

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assassinsblade · 4 months

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Forget Me Not | 7

You and Azriel begin again.

WC: 5.1k

Warnings: References to past SA, finally some fluff, smut, p in v, dirty talk, oral, really just some lovey dirty scenes

a/n: This is it, we've reached the end of Forget Me Not! Thank you to everyone for supporting my first ACOTAR work on here. I'm currently writing another Az oneshot right now, so stay tuned if you liked my writing :)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

————————————-

Entering Azriel's bedroom felt different this time around. You had grown so accustomed to his absence in the past week that the feeling of him behind you sent shivers down your spine.

The room went from being cold and empty to warm and stifling. Your nerves were giddy under your skin, jumping with insecurity and excitement as the shadowsinger guided you to the middle of the space.

"It smells like you in here," he commented, voice soft and amused.

You tried not to feel embarrassed. "I missed you. I'm sorry if it was inappropriate or rude to intrude on your space. It helped me to be in here."

Azriel turned you around to face him, pulling you closer once more. His fingertips brushed the skin of your face lightly, caressing your chin between his thumb and forefinger before his eyes swept up to meet your own.

"You're my mate," he said gently, and you tracked the way his lips curved around the words. "I want you here. I want this entire space smelling of you in every way possible."

Your breath caught at his words, at the underlying tone and implication. Gods, you wanted to eat him alive. You wanted him to eat you alive.

"Azriel..." you whispered, your lips inching forward toward his own. His eyes dropped down to meet the movement, flicking back up to your own before being drawn to your mouth once again.

"We don't have to do anything tonight."

You knew that. You knew he would wait, would be patient as you navigated your newfound relationship with him and how it intertwined with your trauma. But you also knew that you felt so safe and warm and complete there in his arms, and you knew you wanted him.

"I know. But I want to."

He shuddered, and the hand flexed against your lower back tightened imperceptibly. "Are you sure?"

Looking at the male in front of you, at his kind hazel eyes, his soft pink lips waiting to claim you, his gentle touch so calm and undemanding, you were absolutely sure. You felt that thrum of love flow in your chest, and the reminder that it was going both ways made you melt further into him.

"Yes." You barely got the word out before you brought your lips to his.

He brought you into him gently, his hands summoning you to meet the rest of his body, like a wave rocking you softly in its rhythm until you laid smoothly against the warm shore. You curled into him instinctually, your hands making their way up his chest and onto his skin, feeling and grasping, grabbing at anything they could claim.

He made a small noise into your mouth, as if he couldn't help it, and your knees shook slightly at the reaction. He tasted like how it felt to drink water, and you felt so dehydrated, like you could drown in him and never quite have enough.

You pushed into him harder, but he kept his touch on you light, holding you but not using the strength you could feel in his muscles. Your tongue found the the opening to his mouth, and he let you in seamlessly, letting you guide the kiss, take what you needed.

Mor had always said that Azriel never had issues finding partners. There were rumors about the shadowsinger, about his highly-praised (and well above-average) attributes, his talents in the bedroom, and his wide range of sexual interests. But he wasn't taking that control he was so often associated with. He was allowing you to dominate, to take control, and to do what you wanted to him.

You wondered how often Azriel had given the reigns to someone else in the past, and your heart thumped with appreciation.

Your fingers found his leathers, trying to remove them from his torso as your tongue explored his own. His own scarred hands found your own to help, pulling back slightly to give your bottom lip a nip before pulling the fabric from his body.

You nearly groaned in impatience in the few seconds he was pulled away from you, but then you were able to freely roam his warm skin. He was smooth, and muscled, and scarred, and warm, and you could have licked up his torso if it wasn't for the way he immediately dove back into a kiss, his gentle hands cupping your face and strong forearms framing your neck.

There was more force behind his actions this time, but he kept you in control, allowing you to move the both of you back toward the bed, allowing your own hands to remove your nightgown from your body and letting it drop to the floor.

You pulled him on top of you in his blankets, giving him a kiss before pulling back. His gold green eyes were blazing in the darkness of the bedroom, the starlight shining through the window illuminating the light in them.

"Touch me," you begged him, fingers tangling in his hair.

His biceps cradled where your head laid, and you wanted to turn and kiss up the strong arms, to touch him everywhere you could. But you needed his hands on you, his mouth, his entire body.

"You don't need to beg. I'll do anything you want."

And then his lips were trailing along your jaw, skimming and nipping down your neck, sending your chin tipping back to give him more access. His tongue soothed where his teeth nipped, and his breath tickled your skin in all of the right, sensitive places.

Chills went down your spine as he moved lower, worshipping the skin over your collarbone, down your sternum, until he reached your breasts. His eyes met yours through dark lashes, and you nearly jerked your core up to meet his hips at the look he gave you.

Then his tongue was wrapping around your nipple, and you gasped. He teased and flicked and sucked and grasped, and you were writhing, gripping his hair and sucking in harsh breaths.

You had never felt so sensitive, so willing to unravel for a male before.

His free hand was stroking the rest of your skin lightly, his fingertips just barely meeting your body in teasing motions, sending goosebumps to the surface to meet him. By the time that hand skimmed over your other breast, you were ready to start begging again.

But Azriel was perceptive -- when it came to his surroundings and especially when it came to you -- so he didn't make you wait long nor beg. He changed his direction immediately to your other breast, allowing the cool air to tease the one he had worked while giving equal attention to the next.

You were becoming greedy yourself, your fingers skimming down his muscled back, searching for any part of him you could touch. His broad shoulders enveloped your form underneath him, and you loved it, loved him, loved feeling shielded by him. His dark wings were drawn tight along his back, as if he was focused on you and only you, not allowing any part of himself to relax or benefit quite yet. You wanted to touch them, make him lose his resolve-

His mouth moved lower, traveling along your stomach until he reached the band of your underwear, mouthing along the edge. His large fingers dwarfed the elastic, and your eyes nearly rolled back at the sight. But you couldn't do anything but nod when he looked to you for permission.

He gave your lower stomach one last kiss before pulling the underwear down your legs, his fingers trailing after the fabric as if he were tracing a painting, a piece of artwork he would need to commit to memory.

His lips kissed up your ankle, up your thigh, before landing on your hipbone, your leg resting over his shoulder lightly.

Then his hot breath met your core and your head was tilting back, the anticipation causing your body to shudder and your hips to buck. His strong forearm came down on your hips in response, holding you to the bed before placing his mouth on you.

And gods, did he feel good.

From the moment his tongue lightly traced up your core, you knew that he knew what he was doing.

He didn't dive into you haphazardly, not rough nor starved-- he moved with precision, teasing and flicking, and making you ache and ache and ache.

His free hand gripped the inside of one of your thighs, pushing your leg open slightly to give him more access. And when he moaned at the taste of you, you couldn't help but let out a small cry in response.

"I'd be the happiest male if I could spend the rest of my life between your legs."

He sounded absolutely devastated.

He kissed along your inner thighs once more, one finger stroking up you before circling your clit and moving back down again. Your breathing was heavy with his actions, trying to monitor where he was going, what he was doing, how he was pulling on every nerve ending in your body.

Then his middle finger was easing its way into your entrance, and you were gasping, back arching from the bed.

Your hands gripped the covers as his mouth found your clit again, the dual sensation nearly taking you to your release already. His finger moved inside of you, not necessarily searching but instead attempting to stretch you for him, get you ready if you were to move forward to anything more tonight. The thought nearly made you feral.

"Please-" you choked out. You didn't know what you were begging for, what you were trying to say, but you just needed more of him. All you would ever need for the rest of your life was him.

Another finger prodded at your entrance, and then he was stretching you further, his thick fingers moving and curling inside of you until you saw stars. It was as if the roof to the House of Wind had blown off and you could see the skies above you, Azriel's siphons gleaming behind your eyelids.

He didn't give as he guided you higher, fingers and tongue moving together with a rhythm you would worship him over later. The noises coming from you, the gasping, the whimpering, would have been embarrassing if you could have even heard any of it over the ringing in your ears, over the pure pleasure coursing through your veins.

When you tipped over the edge, Azriel kept himself attached to you, his one arm keeping you in place as you shook against the bed, your fingers gripping his hair and your eyes squeezing shut with the overwhelming pleasure.

It wasn't until your grip loosened on him that he pulled back, drawing his fingers from your core and bringing them up to his mouth. You could barely see him through the haze going through your mind, and the fact that he hadn't done the action as a display for you, but because he wanted to, felt the need to, had you nearly cumming again.

You attempted to catch your breath as he stood from his position, the strain at the front of his leathers nearly making your mouth water. You wanted more, needed more, needed your mate -- all of him.

Your limbs shook with exertion as you pulled yourself to your knees on the bed, reaching for his waistband. His hands caught your wrists, however, bringing them back down to your sides as he leaned down and placed a surprisingly heartfelt kiss on your forehead.

"Another time," he told you. "I just want you right now."

And you were not about to refuse him that.

You let him guide you back down onto the pillows, his hand ensuring one was under your head before letting you go and moving to remove his pants. The sight that greeted you was otherworldly.

You had heard rumors. But he was unreal.

And his slight smirk and posturing said he knew it.

You smiled at him before you could help it, gesturing for him to return to you. He was back on top of you before you could blink, and his mouth was on yours. You could feel as some of the control he always seemed to need took over for him, allowing him to curl his tongue against your own, to bite at your bottom lip, to grip your body just a little harder against his own.

"What do you want, sweetheart?" His voice was gravelly in your ear, and you preened against him, pressing your breasts against his chest.

"You, please, I want all of you. I've always wanted you."

He could have teased you for how desperate you sounded, the breathiness of your voice, the way you lifted your hips to meet his, to try to draw him in. But he didn't. Instead, he pulled his lips away from your own, allowing them to just barely brush before declaring his love for you.

He swallowed harshly before speaking the words again. "I love you."

You nodded, feeling emotions building in your chest, feeling that golden tie blazing bright. "I love you, Azriel."

And in that moment, not even yet physically connected, you knew you and him could get through anything together. You were willing to die for the male above you and he for you. While the past could not be ignored, your future together held hope and promise, and you would latch onto that with everything you had, gripping that golden thread with a vengeance.

"Show me," you told him, your eyes watering despite yourself.

And then his lips were on yours again, and the passion behind the kiss sent your head reeling. You felt the head of him press against you before a slight stretch stung between your legs. You gasped into his mouth at the feeling, at the weight of him moving inside of you, and he welcomed your reaction, peppering kisses over your cheeks as you adjusted.

He was large, but you loved it. Loved every inch of him inside of you. Loved the feeling of him filling you physically and emotionally, the golden thread growing brighter and brighter the further he entered you, the more he filled and touched every part of you.

And the feeling seemed to make its way through your entire body, fire lighting in your soul, igniting pleasure in your core that shot to your fingertips and toes.

You moaned when he finally seated himself all the way inside you, his hands coming up to cup your face and make sure you were okay. You couldn’t help the tears rolling silently down your cheeks, the overwhelming emotion that was building inside of you. You had loved this male for so long, and here he was, connected to you on a whole other level, loving you, and you could feel it coming from deep in his soul.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly, kissing at your temple.

“Yes. I’m just happy.”

He swallowed hard at your words and soft smile, kissing you again before slowly pulling out of you and making his way back in. The movement sent sparks floating in your vision, and his answering grunt was enough to have you grasping at his shoulders.

His hands found your own, pulling them from around him and instead intertwining your fingers together with his, laying them gently by your head as he encased your body with his own. His wings spread above you two like a blanket, like the dark of night and his comforting shadows, and you held tightly onto him.

“I love you,” he told you again, as if he had been trying to hold the words back.

“My mate.” You smiled at him, and his pace picked up. His thrusts went from being slow and sensual to passionate and hard, and you brought your mouth to his shoulder to try to cover the loud noise that escaped you at the pleasure of him.

“You’re so perfect. Everything about you is absolutely unbelievable.”

But what you were feeling was even more so. Every inch of him, every rigid muscle, every texture of smooth and scarred skin, made you want to hold onto him and never let go. A bliss unlike any other followed each of his strokes into you, filling you with love and passion and sending blood rushing to your core.

You were absolutely drenched, his hips moving so easily in and out of the bracket of your legs, that you would have been embarrassed if not for the noises of pure male satisfaction coming from Azriel.

He was enjoying you as much as you were enjoying him, and the thought sent a wave of pride through you.

His thick length continued to spread you open with each thrust, and you don’t think you’d ever felt so satisfied and full. He was touching every part inside of you, from your entrance to your cervix to the bond singing in your chest, he was pushed up against your walls and throbbing.

You cried out as he repeatedly hit that spot inside of you, and one of his hands immediately broke from your own and came down to the peak of your thighs, fingers finding the bud and rubbing and circling until your toes were curling-

“I-I can’t…” you gasped out.

“I’ve got you,” Azriel cooed. “Let me see my mate fall apart. Let me take care of you.”

And you knew he would. He held you tightly, protectively covering you with his own body, his other arm looping around your waist to pull your hips closer to his own.

Then you were rising and falling, clenching so tightly around him you thought you might be causing him pain. But all you could focus on was the bliss shooting through your body, the shaking of your limbs, the white blinding your vision, and the gold gleaming in your chest.

By the Cauldron, you were trembling, your entire body overcome with pleasure, and Azriel guided you through it, speaking sweet words in your hair, hand still moving, hips still pumping.

“Gods, you feel so good,” he grunted out. “My perfect mate. My everything.”

Your mind was ringing with the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body relaxed and tingling and high up in the clouds. But you savored the moment still, your fingers brushing over the muscles in Azriel’s shoulders, feeling them move and tense under your touch, the obvious strength under his skin causing you to clench around him.

He cursed, spreading your legs further for him and dropping his forehead to rest against your own.

“Where do you want me?”

Everywhere. You wanted him inside you forever, you wanted him buried as far as he could go.

“Inside me. Please.”

His eyes squeezed shut at your words, a guttural moan leaving his throat. You already were imagining how the male above you would look completely unleashed, allowing his kinks and obsession with control to ravish you in the bedroom. Next time, you told yourself, you would break that leash he held on himself, and you would let him completely and utterly tear you to shreds.

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

His rough tone had you bucking your hips to meet his, and then his hands were gripping your hips hard, his fingertips digging into the skin, holding you still and tight until it ached and bruised and you were keening into him.

Heat swelled inside of you as he emptied himself, and you let out a moan of your own at the feeling, both of your satisfied noises melding together to create a sound you would commit to memory.

He was panting and grunting and you could feel your wetness mixing with Azriel’s spend as it leaked its way out from inside of you and around your thighs. He pulsed and pulsed and you couldn’t help your body’s own reaction at the sensation as you clenched in return.

It was overwhelming and otherworldly and you would never get enough of it.

When he was finished, he nearly collapsed above you, catching himself with his strong hands, his hair falling into his eyes. He looked so beautiful. So relaxed and undone and glowing.

You loved him so incredibly much.

He didn’t remove himself from your body, only looked at you as if he couldn’t really believe you were there, that this wasn’t a dream.

You pushed yourself up slightly, lightly pressing a gentle kiss to his sharp jaw. He sighed at the action, closing his eyes and savoring it, and you immediately wanted to do it again.

He swallowed before meeting your eyes again. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You grasped him tighter. “Stay.”

He chuckled, and the unguarded, light sound had a smile breaking onto your face in return.

“We have all night together,” he reassured. “Let me do this right.”

His thumb stroked over your cheek, and you wanted to smile, to cry, to kiss him. But you let him do what he needed to feel like a good mate and caretaker. He planted one last soft kiss to your lips before gently removing himself from you. You inhaled sharply at the absence of him and at the feeling of his seed leaking from you, already missing the way he felt.

He glanced down to watch as he dripped down your core and thighs, eyes gleaming at the sight. He was then ripping himself away, as if watching any longer would prevent him from moving from your side, would cause him to dive down face-first into you once again.

You watched him walk to his bathroom, his muscular backside a sight against the moonlight shining in his room. You wanted to run after him, to tackle him to the bathroom floor and ride him again right there.

You controlled yourself, though, and waited for his return. He was gentle as he cleaned you up with a washcloth, covering you with a shirt of his own and placing a glass of water on his bedside table.

Once he joined you under the covers, you turned to face him, hand reaching out for him on instinct, and he welcomed the movement immediately. His arms pulled you close, and the connection felt so natural, as if the two of you had never not been in the others’ arms.

His wings, now relaxed with contentment, circled around the two of you, causing you to move closer to him.

“Rest,” he said finally, voice thick with exhaustion. “We can talk more in the morning.”

You nodded, tracing your fingers down his chest.

“You’ll be here?”

His bright eyes met your own, and your heart clenched as he repeated those words he had said months ago in your bedroom, when you hadn’t believed him for a second, when your body was the exact opposite as it was now, turned away from him and guarded.

“I’m not leaving,” he spoke softly. “Never again.”

And you believed him.

—————————

It was the best night of sleep you had gotten in awhile. You had never felt so safe and comforted than surrounded by Azriel, by his arms, his wings, his covers, and in his room. Everything that was him was all around you, and you basked in it.

When you both had awoken, the shadowsinger watched as you dressed with his heart in his eyes, and you gestured for him to do the same so the two of you could get some food and start your day.

What you hadn’t prepared for, was Cassian and Rhys sitting in the kitchen with smirks on their faces.

“Good morning,” Rhysand commented, his lips shaped into a shit-eating grin as he brought his mug to his mouth.

“Rhys,” Azriel greeted, his voice holding a low tone of warning.

Cassian looked over his shoulder at the two of you from where he was making his breakfast, scrunching his nose as if pretending to smell what you had been up to.

“You know,” he said nonchalantly, “I was right this whole time. I called you two being mates months ago.”

“Technically, Feyre guessed correctly first.” Rhys interrupted.

“We get it.” Azriel moved closer to Cassian’s side, snagging a piece of bacon from his plate. “I was an idiot.”

Rhys gave you a wink at Azriel’s words and you nearly blushed.

“Not anymore, it seems.”

Azriel gave the high lord a look, and Rhysand let out a laugh. “Alright, alright. Just come see me when you have a minute. We have to go over a few things with the Illyrian camps.”

Azriel nodded at his friend and the two shared a heartfelt look between them. You had always admired the trio’s friendship, the way they would lay their lives on the line for one another without question.

“Seriously though, I am happy for you both,” Rhys said, to which Cassian turned around and gave you a look of agreement. “But if either of you are idiots again, I’m kicking you out of Velaris.”

That sounded about right.

“Alright, out.” Azriel demanded, pushing his brothers out of the kitchen.

They bickered back and forth with one another to the door, and you couldn't help the smile that fought its way onto your face. This was your family, your friends, and your mate. This was your home.

When Azriel was back in the kitchen, he sighed at their antics, but you could tell he was endeared with his brothers.

He gave you a kiss on the top of your head before moving to the cabinets, pulling out some ingredients to make you breakfast. The sight of your mate cooking for you reminded you of the bond in your chest, the expectation there.

You two were mates, that much was obvious. You felt the golden presence in your chest, you could feel your partner within you should he allow it, but you hadn't technically accepted it yet -- accepted him yet.

And despite how much you loved him, you weren't ready to.

As if sensing the shift in your comfort, Azriel turned to look at you.

"You okay?" He asked, fingers setting the pieces of bread he had gotten out on the counter.

"Yeah, just thinking," you tried to give him a small smile.

"What about?"

His full attention was on you, and your nerves tingled under the weight of his gaze. You both were moving forward, and you didn't want to mess this up, didn't want to make you both take steps backward in your progress, but you also didn't want to be stupid. So much had happened in the past few months, and you wanted to be smart, confident, and sure in each of your decisions. You had so much taken away from you recently, you wanted for once to be able to plan and experience and allow for some natural growth.

"What if I told you I wanted to wait to accept the mating bond?"

Azriel's eyes softened, and you couldn't help the pang of guilt that shot through your chest at the thought of your words hurting him, making him doubt himself and how you felt about him.

"I'll wait however long you need," he told you, voice resolute.

"I want to be your mate. I am your mate," you clarified. "I just think we should give ourselves some time before a ceremony or something. We can go on dates, court a little bit, and I'd like to get to the point where I feel comfortable with us around Elain."

He flinched slightly at her name, at the reminder of what he had done to you, how he had been so focused on the middle-Archeron sister, she had smothered his thoughts of you.

The feelings made their way down the bond, and you knew this was another thing that would take some time. The two of you may be dealing with the repercussions of the past few months for a while, but time would help, and you both were ready to move forward with one another.

"It's okay," you told him gently.

He nodded, giving you a soft doubtful smile, but still he moved to your side and tilted your head up, pulling your lips to his own.

"I love you," he reminded you.

"And I, you."

His lips brushed against your own again, and you leaned in further, wanting to connect yourself further. He pulled back.

"When you want to accept the bond, I will give you whatever you want. A private ceremony, a party celebrated throughout all of Velaris, you name it. You just let me know when."

And you would. In the meantime, the two of you would go on dates, would talk more about your pasts and histories, would go back to sharing your interests and visiting that pastry shop you loved so much.

Azriel would make you feel wanted and loved, and you would make him feel like the kind-hearted hero he was. The two of you would hang around the rest of the inner circle side-by-side. Even when Elain was present and Azriel's guilt thudded through the bond, you would move forward. You felt nothing toward her on his end but regret, and you felt the love being pushed through the bond toward you instead.

It would take time and commitment, but you were ready with him by your side. And he reminded you every day that he was not leaving. The two of you were a package deal now -- hand-in-hand, together.

And a year later, when Azriel walked through the doors of the House of Wind to find you in the kitchen, slaving away at a recipe you had spoken of multiple times, nerves thrumming down the bond and your rosy cheeks showing your flustered state, his heart thumped in his chest.

You gave him a soft smile, your hair messy with your efforts, and your outfit messed up from cooking. And he was so in love.

A bowl placed on the dining table, a candle lit, and a glass of wine poured.

Tears filled his eyes, because he never thought he would deserve this. Not a year ago, and not now.

But you only smiled at him, nodding with encouragement.

And then his tears were falling, his shadows swarming over you until you released contagious giggles, and he was scarfing down the food like a man starved for weeks.

If someone had told Azriel a year ago, that in the very same spot he nearly dropped to his knees at the opportunity to make the broken girl in front of him a mug of tea, he would be granted the blessing of her mating bond, he wouldn't have believed it.

But as the golden thread in his chest pulsed and shined and glimmered with love and renewed strength, he cried.

I'm yours, it spoke to him. And you are mine.

And forever will we be tied together.

#acotar x reader #azriel angst #azriel smut #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar fic

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staring-at-a-blank-pagee · 1 month

Text

IMPORTANT: KOSA MASTERPOST

Please, don't just scroll past! Share, reblog, and check out the content on these links! I will be adding things as I find (so make sure you reblog the original post, you can do this by clicking on my name and going to the pinned post which is this!!) and/or as the situation changes, and if there are resources you want to see added, send them to me.

LATEST UPDATES: HERE (as of of 4/10/24)

INFORMATION

What happens if KOSA passes?

What's at stake?

KOSA isn't designed to help kids.

How will KOSA passing affect you?

KOSA is a privacy nightmare.

Banning kids from social media isn't the answer.

American Action Forum

90+ LGBTQ organizations oppose KOSA

Popular Apps affected by KOSA

Rally for the Internet Archive

KOSA changes don't make it less dangerous

Senate Schedule

Current KOSA status (sign up to get alerts from this if you're able!)

KOSA will actively target trans and LGBTQ+ content

The TikTok ban isn't about China, it's the fact that it's largely pro-palestine and has other content the government doesn't want us talking about.

KOSA applies to EVERYONE here.

Israel is revealed to be behind the infamous Tiktok ban

Read the bill itself

Call Script for KOSA

RESOURCES

Huge list of resources

Tell Congress

Tell Lizzo

Linktree

Bad Internet Bills

StopKOSA.com

Petition - we need 35k signatures and we're almost there!

Contact list

Fight for the future

Speak out against KOSA

Censorship won't make kids safe

Internet red alert

EFF Action Center

More Petitions List (check and sign as many as you can!)

Fight against the TikTok ban as well

Another petition - 123,000/130,000 signatures

Share your story of how social media has helped you

Help keep the ACP alive

Another masterpost

WHERE ELSE CAN YOU FIND MORE RESOURCES?

The Stop Internet Censorship discord server has a ton of useful resources that I pulled from some of to make this post, even. Following and looking at tags like #stop kosa will help make sure you stay informed and they stay trending, as well.

EVERYTHING HELPS!! Let's make sure this bill doesn't pass! Reblogs > likes!!

last updated: 10:52 pm EST, 4/12/24

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abyssruler · 1 year

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would they choose you over the world?

aether (traveler), dainsleif, scaramouche, raiden ei, lumine (abyss), venti, xiao x gn!reader

AETHER thinks he can save both, no, he knows he can. The powers of this world rests at the tips of his fingers. He’s faced monsters and gods and come out alive and better than he was before. There’s no reason to hesitate, none whatsoever to consider his decision but—but. He has never been made to choose before. There was always another way, another choice, another something he could rely on. It’s a moral dilemma, like the situation with the train where you either save five people and kill one person, or kill five people to save one person. It’s easy enough to answer when it was simply that—a moral dilemma created to confuse him, not a world ending decision that lies on his shoulders. To choose one is to doom the other. Most people would choose the world, but while Aether is called a hero and the savior of nations, he is also a person. He looks at your resigned smile, like you already know which one he’ll choose, and he decides to prove you wrong.

DAINSLEIF clings to loss like a dying man does to the edge of a cliff. The inevitability of death and your mortality rests on his shoulders much like weight of his entire nation’s death. He wonders what it says about him that he’d rather have you safe and sound than have the world be saved. Five hundred years of aimless wandering, fighting against the remnants of his fallen nation and watching the world move on while he remains untouched by time, the ghost of a past that can never be returned to. Dainsleif isn’t a hero, he’s tired. All that’s left of him are fading memories of a time gone by and moments with you that he clings to like a lifeline. What has this world ever done for him except cause him pain and needless grief? What has it done to deserve his sacrifice? Nothing. And so he rests, hand in hand with you on withering grass and waits for the world to end. At least, this time, he won’t be alone in watching the heavens descend.

SCARAMOUCHE laughs, and laughs, and laughs until he’s sure even the gods that reside in Celestia has heard the scorn and mockery in his voice. It is so laughably easy to choose you and denounce the world. Let it be turned to ash and dust, let his body dance on top of a desolate world, let him pull you in an embrace and delight in the fact that no sun and no light (for none of these exist anymore) would ever outmatch the brightness in your eyes, the smile on your face, the tinkling sound of your laughter amidst the remains of a world that once threatened to snuff your life like a candle left in the dark. He is like a flame and you, the spark. There’s a tsunami gathering on the horizon, threatening to drown everything in its wake, but instead of preventing it, he revels in the ruin it will bring. It is either your death alone or yours and everyone else, and if you have to die either way, then he will die with you and drag the rest of the world along in his self-appointed destruction. You taught him what it felt to no longer be alone, so he will make sure you’re never lonely, even in death.

EI feels weightless, like a leaf adrift in the wind. It feels like she is back to that moment five hundred (a thousand) years ago, a dilemma, a decision, a choice—follow Makoto to Khaenri’ah, or defend her people from the monsters ravaging the lands? There was uncertainty there, a small seedling of hope that she would arrive not far from Makoto and see her sister alive and waiting, and so she had made the decision to stay—but this? Faced with an ultimatum, the world or your death, Ei finds that the decision is much more difficult, much more devastating but no less heartbreaking. Had it been before, in her lonesome at the Plane of Euthymia, the choice would have been easy, barely a thought in her mind, but everything has changed and Ei wants, in a way she has never wanted before, to be with you. You with your smiles and your laughs and the warmth you induce in her frigid heart—and she finds that she cannot make a choice… so you do it for her. For the greater good.

LUMINE doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even flinch before she turns her back to the world and takes your hand. What good is the world if you’re not there in it? She won’t just stand by and watch as everything she holds dear is destroyed in front of her—not anymore. There is you, there is her, and there is the world burning, and Lumine finds that she can hardly care. Her heart has no place for faceless people, no love left for a world that has done nothing but spurn and trample on everything she had offered. Let it burn if it means having one more second, one more minute, one more lifetime with you. A choice isn’t truly a choice if the other option was never considered, and she will never consider a world without you. There are millions, billions, countless other worlds out there she could take you to. Damn this place, damn the heavens, and damn the consequences. Her brother would understand, he always has, and when Lumine meets him again in a new world, she’ll make sure to introduce you to him.

VENTI wants, like Icarus yearning for the Sun, but Venti is Venti, and Barbatos is Barbatos. Right now, he cannot afford to be that carefree bard who spun tales of your lovely hair and lovelier still lips (cannot be Icarus who flew too close to the sun and fell). Venti wants—but Barbatos knows the best option, the best choice, the least devastating one but the most heart-wrenching one. The situation is funny, laughable, hilarious, really, the kind that makes his stomach ache and brings tears to his eyes that drip down his cheeks and onto the ground and—oh, he’s crying. He’s crying and holding you close and apologizing, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, doesn’t deserve the hand carding through his hair and the soft press of your lips on his forehead as you murmur, don’t cry, it’s alright, you’re doing the best you can. But the best means not doing this at all, the best means not having to make a choice at all, the best means not having to say goodbye. It’s okay, you tell him, I forgive you. But he never forgives himself.

XIAO thinks there must be another way, there has to be another way. He won’t accept this, won’t allow himself to choose between losing you or losing everything, because he knows, deep down, that the choice has already been made and it is not the one he wants. But he knows better than most that doing what he wants isn’t always what is needed, that certain sacrifices must be made despite his unwillingness, despite his entire body protesting against it. Rex Lapis once told him that being a god means making difficult decisions. If this is what it means to be a god, then he will accept a life of service, a life of war and fighting and breathing like every second is his last—because pain and suffering are infinitely better than having to wake everyday without your voice by his ear, giggling about how you finally caught him asleep. A world without your light, without your presence, without you is a desolate one. There must be another way, another sacrifice to be made that doesn’t involve you. Just—anything, anyone but you. Even if it has to be him.

#merry christmas <3 #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #aether x reader #dainsleif x reader #ei x reader #raiden ei x reader #raiden shogun x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #lumine x reader #venti x reader #xiao x reader #gn reader

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akumakosuke · 2 months

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Satoru Gojo was born a god among mortals.

From the moment he opened his eyes he was automatically better than everyone, worth more than everyone.

Satoru Gojo stands alone atop a pedestal at the pinnacle of Jujutsu Sorcery, forever destined to bask in the glory of being the strongest. No one could ever dream to reach his level, he didn’t dream to reach his level but it was cast on him like a curse.

He is a cursed child indeed.

Exactly a week after the miracle birth of Satoru Gojo another clan also welcomed a miracle birth.

M/n Goto was born a god among mortals.

From the moment he opened his eyes he was automatically better than everyone, worth more than anyone…except…

M/n Goto forced the pedestal to grow.

Satoru Gojo tipped the balance of the scales and M/n Goto totally destroyed the scale.

All curse users went into hiding, curses became almost completely inactive for an entire year following the birth of two gods.

During the first few years of their lives they remained blissfully unaware of how deep their destinies intertwine, how truly connected they are.

The day they met was another day to go down in the history books.

Two lone gods, wandering a world that will forever be beneath them, filled with people who will forever be beneath them.

Their paths cross and in that moment time stands still for the young gods, a feeling they’ve never experienced, a sudden tugging at their souls, telling them to turn around and they do.

Crystal-like icy blue orbs clash with star-like fiery red orbs and in that moment two lonely gods became a little less lonely.

The two grew close much to the dismay of many. They knew of their places in the world and they knew no one else understands but them. No one else understands they’re cursed children.

Days of meeting for play dates turned into weekend sleepovers, weekend sleepovers turned into months of bonding, months slowly turned into years and M/n and Satoru thrived, they grew and changed but their bond only got deeper.

They pushed each other to the limits, forcing the other to evolve and keep up and evolve they did.

By the age of 15 they were both Special Grade sorcerers heading into their first year at Jujutsu tech.

Their relationship has also evolved over the years much like their power.

They’re best friends, sure they’re closer than most best friends. They have regular sleepovers and share the same bed, unable to fall asleep without cuddling and sure they are affectionate in public, always staying glued to the others side, an arm around a shoulder here, hands resting on the others hips there and maybe they have kissed a few times but that’s just them being best friends, totally platonic!

Do they have an unspoken agreement to reject any advances from other people? Yes.

Do they acknowledged the agreement? No, that’s why its unspoken, just like the reason they reject everyone else, an unspoken mutual agreement to be each others and only each others without putting any labels on it, besides its not like there’s anyone else alive that could ever tear them apart, come between them or even stand on the same level as them.

Suguru Geto.

The moment M/n and Satoru met Suguru their pedestal was forced to widen again.

They were confronted by another and they had mixed feelings about sharing.

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

Okay so I was thinking of making this into an entire fic but im not sure.

I have a lot of ideas already, especially about the in depth relationship of the three of them and how they would function.

It would focus on M/n, Satoru and Suguru and how their relationship develops throughout the years in Jujutsu Tech and what would happen during the hidden inventory arc with M/n present and how he would affect the story.

There will be smut of course with Domtop Amab M/n and Subbot Satoru and Suguru .

Let me know if I should make a full on fic or just a smut with a bit of plot sprinkled in~!

#akumakosuketoughts #dom male reader #seme male reader #top male reader #male reader #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #satoru x male reader #gojo x male reader #satoru gojo x male reader #geto suguru #suguru x male reader #geto x male reader #suguru geto x male reader #sub jjk

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jimvasta · 1 year

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Humans aren’t poisonous

It was another canteen argument at the spaceport. This time it was about the new species, the humans.

“I hear they are poisonous. That is why they do not come near and why they cover their skin, so they do not harm others.”

“I heard the clothes are about clan allegiances and you know who they follow from their colours.”

“I thought it was which Gods they follow.”

“No, it is poison.”

The argument had various creatures involved, they were from a crew whose Captain prided themselves on picking as many species as possible to work for them, and who was already attempting to entice a human onboard.

There were so many conflicting stories about the humans. They looked harmless, unarmoured, no claws to speak of, they were not even especially big although further rumour was that they were incredibly strong for their size. But, when the Dran attacked them no one could have predicted how easily the humans sent the dangerous imperialists fleeing back to their home world. How did they do it? No one quite knew.

“They are poisonous. How else did they kill everyone on the Helin outpost without any weapons? With only on scout ship.”

There was a snort from the hooded figure at the bar. “Humans aren't poisonous, trust me, I should know.”

“I learned that from the team who investigated the outpost. I know.”

The hood was lowered to reveal a human with short brown hair and a frighteningly toothy smile. “My knowledge is a little more first hand than yours. We aren't poisonous.” He reached in and patted the speaker's lower mandible, laughing as it recoiled from his touch. “You'll be fine.”

“If you are not poisonous, how did you do it? They were clearly poisoned by something horrific, a biological agent that the investigators swore was somehow alive.”

The human licked his lips. “I said we aren't poisonous, I wasn't lying.”

“So you're defenceless.” The insectoid being stood. It was angry at being touched by a soft fleshy creature, it felt dirty.

“Nope. I'm human, I'm never defenceless.”

“It would be so easy to defeat you in combat.” It loomed over the human. “Why is it you do not cower? How do you kill your enemies?”

“You wanna become my enemy and find out?”

“Johnson!” The sharp snap from the across the room made everyone freeze.

The human sighed, his eyes dropping. “Sir.”

“Back off, right now.” This barked order came from a Subeco warrior in the uniform of a merchant vessel.

Johnson grumbled. “Seriously?”

“I don't want another incident, stop baiting people.”

“He called me defenceless.”

“And that is not a capital offence. I have found a trader who has a pallet of what he claims is a human drink called Rum, I need you to help me check it.”

“Rum? It better be dark rum, I don't want any of that Bacardi shit.” Johnson forgot the insectoid to the lure of alcohol, striding to the door.

“Subeco.” the insectoid was not so quickly put off. It respected the Subeco, they were fine warriors, proven in eons of battle across the galaxy. “What do you know of humans? How are they so dangerous?”

The Subeco's head wobbled from side to side as they considered their answer. “They are extremely vindictive with tools and masters of improvised weapons, but mostly they kill their enemies slowly.”

“So they are poisonous.”

“No not poisonous, but they are venomous.”

The entire room's attention was fixed on the Subeco in a moment.

There was a sneer from the warrior who knew one of their best guards was a human with a short temper. It was useful to make sure people were scared of him. “Their fluids are all toxic to some extent, but their saliva is laced with micro-organisms, viruses and bacteria. Death by human is slow and excruciating.”

“I'll be sure to never let one bite me.” the insectoid was not impressed.

“Bite?” the Sebeco laughed, copying the noise used by humans that was so off putting. “If Johnson wanted you dead he would have stayed at the bar and spat into one of your eyes. My survival tip for dealing with humans is be more useful alive than dead or stay out of range.”

“What is their range?”

The Subeco looked at Johnson before turning back to the insectoid. “If you have to ask that question, you're too close. Enjoy your drinks, gentle-beings.”

#humans are space orcs #space australia #venomous not poisonous #if you need to ask you are too close

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zealousllamawolf · 8 days

Text

Book Club (Alastor x Reader)

Parings- Alastor X Reader

!!Minors DNI with this post. R-18+!!

Summary- Reader unknowingly drugs tea for themselves leaving them vulnerable in the presence of Alastor

Word count- 5.5k words

Tags- bloodletting, p in v, rough sex, masturbation, crush against Alastor, drugged slightly. First time Reader, bondage, SMUT SMUT SMUT.

~~~

It’s been ages since you could curl up somewhere quiet with a book. You struggle just to find time to be alone with the constant chaos of the other residents at the hotel. So, when Charlie announced at breakfast that everyone was welcome to come to dinner with her father, Lucifer, at his manor you were excited to decline.

You had just been given a new book by Angel that seemed interesting and romantic. Romance books held a special place in your heart even when you were still alive. You could see yourself as the main character being loved by someone to the fullest and that was all you needed for the most part. You never had a lot of romantic experiences on earth and surely not in hell. You did not trust anyone enough to be that vulnerable in front of them.

Well, that is not entirely true. There was Alastor, but it is not like you could trust him, you had the tiniest infatuation with him. He was always slithering out from the shadows invading your personal space. Even though you didn’t mind the close proximity whenever Alastor came up behind you to grab something that was in front of you, he would lean down close to your ear apologizing, “I am sorry for the intrusion, darling’’, only his voice was deeper than his usual charming range, while his tone scratched a deep itch inside your body. You can never help the heat building between your legs when you feel his breath on your neck as he slips away grinning triumphantly.

Every time you felt his presence in the room you tried to keep yourself from trailing him with your eyes as he struts proudly with Charlie helping her with whatever she needs for the hotel but in most cases, you could not keep your eyes to yourself. Sometimes Alastor senses your heavy gaze so he turns and looks at you but instead of looking away he just stares at you his grin growing when warmth spreads to your cheeks leaving you hot and flustered forcing you to break from his stare.

None of this matters anyways it is not like he means anything by it. It is all just a part of the cruel game he plays to find enjoyment in the suffering of lowly demons. You sigh and shake your head, sitting up straighter. Looking around your plate is full while everyone else’s is almost finished.

“Are you okay dear? Your plate seems… untouched” Alastor asks grinning, but his smile did not reach his eyes, seemingly concerned, his question forcing all eyes on you. “Wouldn’t want my little helper to starve now,” he said statically, preceding to stare you down.

“I- um... I am not hungry this morning. I am fine, thank you,” forcing yourself to only look at Alastor for a moment before looking at Charlie. You squeeze your legs tight trying to refrain from thinking about Alastor ‘s back, flush with yours, cursing yourself for thinking about him in that way. “I was actually thinking about staying back while you guys go to dinner.”

Charlie frowns for a second before whipping up a reassuring smile “Oh, that’s okay! We will miss you but sometimes you just need a good RnR,” she smiles and finishes the last bite on her fork.

“Yes, thank your princess,” looking at Angel, wiggling your eyebrows. “I am going to spend the night reading the book you gave me.” You playfully say with a smile barely able to contain your excitement bouncing up and down slightly.

Angel cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh sugar, I am not sure that’s going to be very relaxing,” chuckling the spider demon smiles not willing to share his thoughts on the book further.

“Reading in general makes me relax I am sure I’ll be fine pretty boy,’ you giggle at the pet name and smile back at Angel who in return gave you a toothy grin.

“If you say so (y/n),” Angel says, picking up his plate and walking towards the kitchen.

Alastor grin softens as he sees how excited you were, hoping you would turn to look at him with the same sparkle your eyes gave Angel. Grin widening further he had an idea.

“If you would not mind, dear, I would love to join you while you read. I have a couple radio show ideas that need to be put on paper,” he asks charmingly.

Just the thought of sitting next to Alastor made your cheeks flush and heartbeat rapidly. “Well, by all means come along, I-I wouldn’t mind the company,” you stutter slightly as the last part rushes out of your mouth, unable to control yourself.

‘How bold of you’, you thought to yourself, bringing your cold hands to your face trying to settle the burning heat you feel on your cheeks. ‘Why did I say that?’ You ask yourself, quickly coming undone when you think about being alone with Alastor. Temporarily unable to breathe you force yourself to cut up some of the cold food on your plate. A meaningless task you thought ‘Why did he even want your company?’

“Very well, dear,” Alastor says as he gets up from his seat walking to your chair, only to stop a couple inches from where you sat, he leaned down and spoke softly in your ear. “Now, finish your breakfast darling.” You inwardly groan as his breath whisps past your neck. All you could do was sink slightly further into your chair and nod.

~~~

You spend the rest of the day doing your laundry coming to and from your room on the second floor to the basement. Grateful for the mundane task you sigh contently thinking over your love life. Why hadn’t you branched out and at least experienced someone giving you pleasure? You always became hot and bothered from reading about love and sometimes lust, why could not you indulge with someone tangible. Your attraction towards these fiction man had overpowered any attraction for anyone in your real in your life. No one ever came close.

Your mind drifted to Alastor, the sound of his voice or his closeness brought a flood between your legs and a small knot of tension in your stomach every time you saw him. It is not like you’ve never felt arousal before, buts it’s never been this strong for someone you could interact with. You shake your head and let out a frustrating sigh, trying to clear your thoughts as you gather up the rest of your last load, making your way back up to your room carrying your laundry basket.

You decided once you reached your room to take a shower to try to clean off the dirtiness of your mind, swearing Alastor had a sixth sense for that, never failing you use it against you to make you flustered.

You take a short shower coming out of your bathroom wrapped in a towel as you make your way to your bed covered in folded clean clothes. Wrestling up some comfortable shorts and a large long sleave-shirt you get dressed without putting on a bra. Why would you? When you were alive that is how you dressed when you were lost in a book, why not be comfortable allowing yourself to let go today.

Standing up off your bed you go to your bookshelf grabbing your Angels book and start to head downstairs to the kitchen to make tea and milk, your comfort drink for reading. When you make your way downstairs in the lobby, you are greeted by the crew getting ready to leave for Lucifer’s dinner.

“Wow, you all look amazing.” Looking down at your lounge wear you suddenly felt embarrassed with how you were dressed.

“Thank you (y/n), you look very comfy!” Charlie smiles as she bounces up and down while Vaggie tries to calm her, giggles some.

You blush looking down to rub your feet together as Angel comes over grabbing your hand, raising your arm up and spinning you around with a twirl.

“Now, this is what I want to be wearing”, you giggle feeling the blush lift, Angel always making you feel instantly better. He reminded you a lot like a friend you had when you were alive, making you feel safe.

“We should probably get going, don’t want to worry Dad.’’ Charlie chuckles as she practically out the door with Vaggie in tow, while everyone is waving and reciting their goodbyes the door finally closes behind them.

Standing alone in the lobby you are left feeling empty, second guessing yourself on staying home. ‘Maybe you should have gone with them instead,’ you shook your head, chiding your own thoughts. ‘No’ you needed this; you have not had a real escape since showing up in hell.

You skipped your way to the kitchen to prepare your tea. After successfully having the patience to wait for your tea bag to seep you poured what tastes and smells like milk into your tea, not noticing the label that fell to the floor reading ‘Property of Angel DO NOT touch’, gathering your book and mug you head to the bar.

You grab a piece of paper and pen so you could write a note to Alastor letting him know where you were in case, he would hold to his word, which you were still unsure if he really meant it or if it was a part of his game.

I will be on the outside patio.

Waiting patiently

(y/n)

Satisfied, you grab your things and make your way to the patio, a place you often came for some peace. You smile when you realize the fading light will be enough to read naturally for a little bit before the lights around the patio will turn on and the fireflies will be flicking just past the garden’s tree line. After a long gulp of your tea, you grimace at the overwhelming sweet taste, placing your mug down on a side table next to the comfortable outside couch. ‘Must have put too much sugar in.’ Shaking your head.

You settling down with your back leaning against the cushioned arm, you stretch your legs out before bringing your knees up close towards your chest allowing space for you to curl up with your book. Before you could start, you hear static in front of you and the air chilling around you slightly. You look up to see Alastor appearing with his shadows fading away around him as he sat with his legs crossed with a pen and pad laying on his lap.

“Good evening, darling,’’ Alastor immediately noticed how your cheek grew into a deep crimson, but that is not all he noticed. Your feet were slightly apart and with the way your knees were placed you gave him quite the view. Your shorts had bunch up outlining your cunt perfectly, your puffy lips outrageously enhance by the middle seam of your shorts.

“Hello Alastor,” looking down you flip your book opening it, holding in a moan since saying his name had influence on you making you clench your core suddenly heat spread between your legs.

When Alastor saw your cunt clench, he almost let out a groan feeling rapid swelling against his pants. How did you have such a hold on him? He wanted to grab your ankles, pull you to him and rip off your shorts so he could finally taste your sweet-smelling core.Tearing his gaze away he sat there lost in his mind before you broke him of the spell you had on him.

“If you’re okay with it I am going to start,’ you say as you flip to the first chapter, you look up and see Alastor’s smile stained. “Hey Al… you are doing, okay?” You ask though before you could start worrying, his smile changed softly.

“Go ahead darling, I am okay I am just thinking though some interesting ideas for my radio show.” You nod, returning your focus to your book.

You and Alastor sat in silence for a while as you read long enough for the patio lights to have turned on. The tone of the book was unbelievably sexual from the first chapter. Graphic depictions of the two lovers sex life were… well it was making you more aroused. The male companion was exactly what you would want in the bedroom. Something you have fantasized repeatedly but you could not help picturing Alastor as the main male character. You being chained and dominated under him, wrists tied to a bed unable to do anything while you were being taken.

Your core ached desperate for some attention, it had become overwhelming to say the least, your cunt clenched over nothing countless time. How could I get this horny after reading this book, it felt unreal, the aching increase and you almost let out a moan. ‘Oh my god what has gotten in you?’ you start to question reality now. Trying to clear your head you shifted slightly drawing Alastor’s attention back to you while your mind was captured with the scene being played out in your head unable to focus on your book.

Alastor’s gaze shifted from your blushing, sweaty face to your cunt that was already beginning to leak with your arousal causing a wet spot on your shorts clearly, the fabric becoming slightly transparent forcing him to know the color of your panties. He felt his cock twitch aching for some friction. All he wanted to do was run a finger down your wet shorts, just to see what type of reaction you would make. Suddenly you throw your legs over the side of the couch, planting your feet on the ground unable to control your shaking legs. Alastor quickly looks down at his notepad afraid of getting caught looking at your cunt rubbing a hand across his face to try to mask his flustered face.

Panting slightly, with your head hanging low you try to catch your breath as the aching became too much. Every part of your body felt sensitive like it was on fire and needed a release. You had to get away from Alastor and quickly, he could not see you like this. Lifting your head, you look in front of you noticing the fireflies pulsing in the distance. Perfect. Unable to think rationally you hop up on your feet and turn to Alastor.

“I-I am going to go um… L-look at the… um fireflies! For a minute,’’ panting you try to regain your composure but Alastor sensed something was wrong, so he reaches out and grabs your hand sending electric shocks up your arm. You flinch and pull your hand back throwing it up to your mouth coving a small barely audible gasp.

“Are you okay dear? You seem…wound up’’ his voice dropping an octave, your core throbbed at his voice wondering if that’s what he would sound like fucking you dumb.

“Y-yess, I am fine” sucking in a breath, you say, “I just need a minute to take a break.’’

It takes everything in you to not run as fast as possible to find cover somewhere you could relieve the heat that was continually bubbling at your core. Finally making your way past the tree line and out of Alastor’s line of sight, crouching down on the fountain in the middle of the garden you collapse to the ground to your knees bracing yourself on the stone edge.

Confused Alastor he picked up your book wondering if it was the cause of your sudden mood shift, peeking through a couple paragraphs only to find a complete description of a couple in an intimate moment. He looked up to where you had gone, a thought peeking is interest. He follows after you staying back some to see what you would do.

Stuffing your hand under your panties, you instantly find your throbbing bundle of nerves and start to rub in circles causing you to moan loudly, confident you were out of ear shot from Alastor so you felt free to let go.

You need more. Quickly you pull your shorts down a little with your spare hand, giving yourself a little more room to move further to your cunt entrance.You slide a finger down your slit and circle around your core getting your finger wet before entering yourself. “Oh… fuck,” you moan again.

You have never felt anything like this before, everything feels more intense and sensitive. It would normally take minutes of fingering yourself to even reach this level of pleasure, but this was something different. Your walls clenched as you go deeper and found your sweet spot gently pressing back and forth, with this you are melting further down, unable to keep yourself up.

Alastor’s grinning face flashes against your tightly shut eyes like it has so many times before when you have touched yourself. You could not help but moan, “A-Alastor…” saying his name made your core tighten and started to spasming around your finger reaching your climax.

“Oh, you have been a naughty little girl’’, you gasp hearing Alastor’s voice behind you. Panting still coming down from your orgasm, you turn slowly facing him pulling your hand out of your shorts quickly.

“OH my, Alastor I-“

“No need to explain dear’’ his smirk widening. “I did hear my name though. Were you touching yourself at the mere thought of me perhaps?”

How did he hear that? Was he standing here the whole time?

Bashfully you say in a quiet voice, “Y-yes’’ unable to hide your lust and desire throbbing from your inflamed cunt, you lower your head hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Alastor’s in front of you in seconds using his staff to lift your chin forcing you to look at him. “It’s quite alright little doe” he leans down at the waist inches from your face making you squirm feeling his breath on your lips. “In fact, I have wanted to sample your taste for some time now,’’ with a strained smile, “All you have to say is one word, and I could help with your…” shifting his staff he trailed it down your stomach stopping right before he reached your cunt. “Problem.”

Shamefully you could not say no so you whisper “Yes,’’ breathing out.

Immediately after you respond he’s pressing his lips to yours, licking his tongue at your bottom lip you, asking for permission before proceeding. You moan against his lips finding yourself lost as he enters your mouth as his tongue searches yours, teeth lightly nipping at your bottle lip.

Your body lights up in that moment, you lean forward and wrap your hands around his neck pulling him closer as you rake your fingers though his hair. Stifling a moan, air whips around both of you, next thing you know, you find yourself on top of something soft. Your head starts to swarm, and your body starts to heat up just like before, telling you it needed to be touched.

You break the kiss and lean your head back, breathing out as Alastor trails kisses down your jawline stopping before latching on to a sensitive spot. “Alastor… please I need…” You voice catching when he drags a claw down your side until he reaches the hem of your shirt. You shudder as his hand moves under slowly and slides up over your bare rib cage before stopping just under your breast.

‘’You need what, (y/n), be a good girl and use your words.” His hand moves up cupping your breast and runs a finger over your hard nipple making you moan and lean back forcing him to straddle one of your thighs with his knee pressed up against your cunt. You grind yourself against his leg, groaning as your eyes cloud with lust at the much-needed friction.

“T-touched. I need to be touched more.’’ It was all you could make out before Alastor rubs circles around your nipple making you shiver all over.

“As you wish my sweet girl.” Alastor snaps and you are laying there completely bare in front of him. You let out a yelp and instinctively try to cover your mound with your hands before you could reach green chains appeared around your wrist pulling them over your head. You whine and try to close your legs even though it was helpless since his thigh was still pressed against you.

“N-no one has ever seen…’’ you stop for a second so you would not sound dirty. ‘’Me before,” your face starts to burn in embarrassment. Alastor notices and trails his claws up your neck grasping your jaw to make you stare at him though half-lidded eyes.

“Ill be gentle my sweet,’’ with that you nod allowing your legs to open wide letting Alastor have a full look at your glistening cunt. You hear his suck in a deep breath before lowly saying “You are perfect, and this is all mine to enjoy, no one else has even glimpsed at you.” He groans closing his eyes at the thought, using his spare hand and slides a finger though your slick folds, you hike your hips against his finger at the instant pleasure. “How far have gone before?” It takes you a second to respond, all you could focus was Alastor’s fingers gingerly touching your entrance. You glare at him for a second after registering what he said.

“I’ve taken more than just my fingers Alastor,’’ you say faking anger. “Just not with anyone real.”

In response to this Alastor’s thrusts his finger into you, curling up and presses down causing you to moan loudly at the sudden pressure on your sweet spot. His finger pumping faster as he adds another digit inflicting your walls to pulse over his fingers.

His eyes shift to yours full of desire and command, “What have you used on yourself then?” Alastor’s eyes dart down to your cunt pressing his thumb against your clit, circling slowly.

You jolt your waist up your whole body flares with heat. “A toy!” you practically yell in pleasure. Commanding your breath to return you say, “A six-inch p-plastic toy” tears forming in your eyes, choking more words out. “It was all I could manage.” You whisper, tears spilling over to the sides of your face, falling into your hairline.

His grip gets tighter making his claws dig into your inner thigh, forcing small droplets of blood to rise to the surface. You wince at the pain, but surprisingly it increases your pleasure, making you rut your hips further on his fingers. Alastor moans while chuckling. “So, you do like pain too…” Gliding a third finger into your heat. “Oh, darling you are going to have to take more than six inches.”

Your brain goes into over-drive as you start to feel pressure building in your lower stomach “Alastor please I need more” begging as more tears fall.

‘’Mmh, good girl. I want you to want me and me only, by the time we are done you are going to beg for me to stop.” He leans over your chest and takes a nipple in his warm mouth biting just enough to inflict pain, but he quickly runs his tongue in a circle causing you to moan his name. “Oh, you’re so reactive, every touch so far. I can’t wait to hear more of your precious sounds.”

“T-that’s new…I’ve never felt like this before, the intense heat feels so.” You voice trailed off as Alastor leads kisses up your neck, he brings up his bloody claws up to his mouth, taking a taste. He groans loudly closing his eyes at the taste of your blood. You watch him open his eyes franticly looking at you with a need for more, your words fall out of your mouth. “Un-natural.”

Alastor kisses your neck and nicks the soft skin, lapping up your blood feverishly. Your walls tighten around his fingers, feeling yourself close with an orgasm. Right before you get your release, he pulls his fingers out of your cunt, bringing them to his mouth he licks one digit clean before bringing them to your lips forcing them open. You lap up your own juices on his fingers making Alastor moan. Shutting your eyes as he sucks harder on your neck trying to draw out more blood. You hear his buckle coming undone as Alastor takes his fingers out of your mouth, in an instant he is fully undressed.

You open your eyes at the touch of Alastor’s cock gently tapping your clit. You look him up and down, your eyes tracing his chest. Surprised to see a puffy patch of black and red hair, thinning out as it reaches his stomach leaving a happy trial of red leading down to his cock. You are left breathless as you gawk at the sheer size of him alone. Your eyes dart up and he's looking down at you with a mischievous grin as he slides the tip of his cock down your slit getting himself lubricated with your juices, stopping just before entering your heat.

You fiddle with the chains restricting your movement and you whine, wiggling your hands. “Please Alastor, came I have my hands back, I want to touch you.” Moaning as he presses the tip of his cock into your cunt. You squeeze your eyes shut at the intrusion that came along with a burning sensation around your tight ring.

“Oh, darling I think not. I happen to look though your book earlier, and it included bondage little doe.” His voice dropping the way you always fantasize over. Alastor gives you a moment to acclimate to his size before pressing further into you slowly, “and domination,’’ he says as he magically pulls the chains tighter. You gasp as he fills you more, filling you to the point you thought you were going to burst, you clench down hard around Alastor shaft resulting in his cock twitching inside you. Alastor moans and presses a hand on your lower stomach right over your uterus making you gasp not knowing that pressure would give you such an intense pleasure. “Just relax, you going to take all of me.” Alastor growls saying the last part as he reaches under one of your knees lifting it over his shoulder, pressing forward when he feels you ease up around his cock.

You bite your lip hard trying to hold in a moan, enough to break the skin making your mouth fill up with the taste of iron. Some of the blood pooling around your mouth before falling slowly down your chin dripping on to your chest.

Alastor looks down at you with lust filled eyes widening at the sight of your blood. You could see his composer failing, so you take your tongue and wipe it across your lip sucking in the blood you had on your lips. That sets something off in Alastor as he plunges the rest of his length flush with your hips. Surprised at the feeling of being completely filled and the force of the thrust you yelp in pleasure as his cock twitch against your cervix. Your cunt spasms around his perfectly snug cock making you shudder.

Nothing has ever been inside you this deep before causing our cunt to burn as his cock stretches you beyond the breaking point, well past the three-inch girth of your previous toy.

Straining against the chains you whisper breathlessly,” oh Alastor please move. I need more” you beg, grinding against his cock.

“You are taking my cock like a good girl.” Alastor coos as he pulls back his hips pulling out enough to still have his tip buried inside you and thrust softly so you can get used to the movement. Moaning, you arch your back at the sensation of his cock pushing though your gummy walls.

“Alastor,’ you growl pulling on the chains even though they dig into your skin leaving your wrists raw and red. “You don’t need to be gentle with me” sucking in your breath as he slides slowly into your cunt again. “I can take it.’

“Don’t worry little doe you’ll get what you’re asking for,” thrusting into you with more force before he starts to take a brutal pace bruising your cervix each time, he pounds into you. Your vison starts to blacken around the edges as you are quickly approaching your release. Alastor grabs your other knee and forcing them to your chest gaining an angle that allows him to fuck you deeper. You could not hear yourself anymore for your mind was overloading with the pleasure he was encouraging and fucking into you.

“Al-Alastor, Alastor… oh my s-stars. Alastor please.” You moan his name like a chant over again sometimes you could not make yourself speak but continued saying Alastor’s name in your head. Alastor lowers your legs and raises your hips higher making him hit your g-spot with each thrust. “Please d-don’t stop” you beg, rolling your hips trying to match Alastor’s speed feeling the coil at your core tighten further making your walls clench down in return Alastor moans at your sudden tightness.

“Good girl, beg for my cock to make you cum” you shudder as he rapidly increases his pounding.

“P-please Al-Alastor I n-need t-to cum’’ you sob stumbling though your words from the roughness and speed he was fucking you at.

“Yes, doe, cum on my cock. Show me how much you want it.” Alastor leans down and kisses your collarbone and he bites hard leaving an outline of his teeth without breaking the skin.

The chains disappearing around your wrists, he slips his hands under your each of your arms pulling you up, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, latching on to your neck sucking so hard blood rises to the surface just under the skin.

‘’Bite me’’ you whine and slamming your hips against him, grinding on his cock. Wrapping your arms around his neck running your fingers through his hair before you reach his growing antlers, you grasp the for some support forcing Alastor’s thrust to sputter when your made contact with them.

Alastor bites down on to your shoulder, pain knocking the breath out of you as he breaks the skin but not enough to tear around his teeth. He pulls back for a moment to watch the dark red blood rise and bubble over before any bit had a chance to drip, his mouth cupped around the bite mark, the sweet liquid flooding into his mouth. Alastor’s body starts to react to the blood fucking you harder he starts to feel you tremble as your body tightens.

Your orgasm rakes though your body with such power you start to go limp, your walls pulsing around Alastor’s cock. He releases your shoulder with a pop and groans as you milk his cock making him reach his climax, sputtering thick chains of warm seed into your womb. You let out a whimper as he slows his thrusts before thrusting into one more time resting his already softening cock inside your heat not wanting to leave.

Alastor lowers your upper half back onto the bed and stares at your weak twitching body. Adoring the way you looked, shoulder oozed slowly, lip ripped and completely fuck dumb. You sigh in contentment as you raise your hands and rub your face smiling, looking up at Alastor, his face reflecting the one you had.

With one last thrust he pulls out of taking a moment to watch his seed leak out, groaning satisfied he conjures up a warm wet rag, cleaning you up as your eyes flutter shut still trying to catch your breath.

Chuckling, Alastor tosses the rag near the end of the bed he leans over your bloody body and press a soft kiss on your lips feeling your smile grow against his.

‘’I am yours; I don’t want anyone else,” you whisper softly opening your eyes to gage how he would respond.

With Alastor’s face so close to your he leans down planting another kiss on your lips and says, “So you will be, mine for the taking.” He settles down next to you and pulls you up to his chest resting your face against his chest. You sink your hands in the puff of fur and close your eyes drifting off to sleep as you listen to Alastor hum a song from his time.

~~~

Later that evening you go back down to the kitchen to rinse out your coffee mug and see a thin piece of paper on the ground near the fridge. Reading it you immediately you text Angel.

(y/n): Angel was this on a clear jug with milk in it.

Angel: Yes, it was can you tape it back to the jug, I don’t want someone to get drugged. <3

(y/n): Drugged with what?

Angel: A drug that makes sex feel more intense, Val gave it to me to use for the next shoot, something about having bigger, better reactions.

You quickly make your way to Alastor’s room not bothering to knock you barge in and announce, “I was DRUGGED, my tea was spiked.” You proceed to show your messages to Alastor and explained you had used the drugged milk in your tea.

Alastor looks at you with a mischievous smile and says, “Well I guess we have to do it again to be sure you know exactly what I gave you tonight.”

You couldn’t help the heat that burned your cunt at the thought of fucking Alastor again.

~~~

A/N- This is my first time writing a fanfic and having the courage to post it, I hope it’s okay!! Request are open I’ll be posting the parameters later but feel free to ask! Feel free to voice your opinion <3 Thank you for reading

#alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel radio demon #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x y/n

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help-itrappedmyself · 1 month

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Dead On Main part 7

Masterpost

dedicated to @cervinebotanist and @leafyeyes417 for responding so quickly and with such enthusiasm to part 6. Thank you for the encouragement and support.

Danny takes a deep breath. He can hear scrambling from somewhere else in the car, but he can’t pay attention to what’s happening as he focuses inward. He closes his eyes, and reaches inside himself.

Jason has a tiny baby core! Danny almost coos at it, but it’s so underdeveloped that he’s sad instead. Danny can feel ectoplasm in himself, in Jason’s body. But it isn’t enough. This ectoplasm has been reused, reduced, recycled one too many times. It’s got barely enough to stay alive left in it. Jason is mostly being sustained by his human half right now. It feels like play-doh that turns to dust where it should stretch, dried-out and old. It makes him even more sad. And slightly ill. But the sadness makes the rioting ectoplasm calm back down inside him.

Danny opens his eyes. He’s slightly disoriented, but calm now, eyes no longer glowing. They had stopped the car. He looks at Tim, who is leaning against his door and braced against it and Dick’s chair, giving Danny as much space as possible. His hand is almost on the door handle and his tablet on the floor. Dick and Bruce are exchanging panicked looks in the front seat, both now unbuckled for some reason and completely turned to face the backseat.

“Hey, speaking of ectoplasm, this body really needs some.” Danny informs them. “If it doesn’t get some new ectoplasm soon his core is going to cease functioning, and that would be really bad, and possibly irreversible.”

“Uhhh.” Dick’s panicked look is turning straight to confusion, as is everyone else’s. “What?”

“I didn’t realize that Jason was, I mean he had mentioned he died, but he- well, I guess I didn’t want to talk about it over the phone either. Does make it easier to talk about since we’re the same, but of course we couldn’t have known yet. But his core needs some help, do you not have access to ectoplasm back home?” Danny is rambling, brain spinning at the thought of how much he and Jason have in common. This big thing that no one else would truly understand by each other. And Vlad, sort of, but nobody likes Vlad. “It’s amazing that we ended up soulmates. He’s only the third person in the world I’ve even heard about with this condition. How long has he been without ectoplasm? Is he having trouble finding any, or does he not know he needs it? Either way, I’m giving him some as soon as possible.” Danny doesn’t know whether he should freak out over that fact that his soulmate is as dead as he is, that he’s currently dying from lack of ecto, or that his soulmate’s entire family is probably going to end up learning about him and ghosts, or the fact that he is currently taking another body that the GIW is going to want to study straight to them. All of these things seem like great reasons to freak out on their own, so all together he is just panicking.

Danny doesn’t seem to be able to breathe.

“Hey, come on, that’s fine, you can totally give Jason some… ectoplasm.” Dick says.

“Danny, you have to breathe, okay.” Tim is much calmer than Dick, so Danny focuses on him as Bruce and Dick whisper in the front. “Danny, match my breathing.” Danny stares at Tim, who is making very exaggerated breathing movements, and tries to time his breathing to match. “We’ll figure everything out, but we don’t need to do it right now.” Tim is still helping Danny, talking calmly, but he says this with enough force to distract the two in the front seat enough for them to shut up for a second. Danny appreciates the bit of silence.

“You need to start driving.” Danny, tells Bruce. “Right now, his human half is sustaining the rest of him almost entirely. If Jason doesn’t get more ecto soon, his other half will die, and I’m not sure what will happen to his human side if that happens. He may die again completely.”

There’s a beat of silence in the car. Bruce stares right into Danny’s eyes.

“You are saying there is an active threat to my son’s life, ” Bruce asks, voice hard.

Danny nods. Then everyone is buckled back in and Bruce is pulling them back onto the road.

“You know what’s happening and how to help him?” Bruce asks, voice steady but Danny can sense all the emotion underneath. Bruce is really worried right now, he looks around the car and realizes that Dick and Tim are as well. They both have phones out, but are tense, tuned into his conversation with Bruce.

“Yeah, It’s a simple enough fix, I’m just worried because he’s really…” Danny takes a moment to think of the right word. “Ecto deficient? His core is definitely malnourished, and his body and mind definitely need it. They are being sustained with human stuff for now, but eventually that won’t be enough.”

“How urgent is this?”

Danny feels for Jason’s core, feeling like he’s invading his privacy, but without other options to check. It’s not cracked, but it’s not fully formed either. Half starved baby core, not even strong enough to present. Its link to an obsession is strong, but frayed enough that Danny can’t tell what it is. The core is not strong enough to produce it’s own ecto, even in response to the obsession being fulfilled. Everything is stable, but strained.

“I’m not an expert, but he’s sustained himself this long. And we’re already on the way. We should be fine, but I’ll keep an eye on it just in case.”

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dead on main #danny phantom #red hood #my writing #fanfiction #soulmate au

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disasterofastory · 7 months

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A shocking night (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

A shocking night // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 2/14 Warnings: shower smut, a bit dub-c, dead bodies

Summary: You meet Brahms, the living one, for the first time.

It's so quiet you can hear the rapid beating of your heart as it tries to break free from the hold of your ribcage. Your chest heaves as you pant and gulp for air. Your lungs burn. You can feel the wild rhythm of your pulse at the tip of your fingers. It makes your limbs numb and frozen. It makes you stop from running and escaping this hellhole.

The entrance door of the mansion seems far away. Too far away.

Your eyes are on the man. He is the only one still alive. The other three lie on the ground, bloody and motionless. They chose the wrong house to break into. Your attention falls on them for a second before snapping back at the one who stares at you from behind his mask. The white but dirty porcelain is familiar. Too familiar.

"Brahms?" Your voice is high and panicked. At first, you think he doesn't even understand your question. He tilts his head to the side before nodding. His posture is still tense and ready to jump at any second if you dare to move even an inch. His broad chest moves up and down as he pants. The white shirt he wears is dirty and bloody, too. Everything is.

How is it possible? You heard about the history of the family who hired you. Malcolm told you about their son who died in the fire that still marks the outside of the house. That's why you were so accepting to take care of a toy. You had no idea what secret they hid among the tall walls of the mansion.

"Y/N?" Your heart stops beating for a second when a high, childlike voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Your eyes focus back on the man in front of you. "Yes?" You ask back, gasping. "Are you going to leave?" He asks. It's a dangerous question. You hear the silent warning underneath his words. "No, Brahms," you force yourself to speak. "I won't leave you." He nods. Even through the mask, you can see the satisfaction that your reply brings to him. "Did they hurt you?"

Did they hurt you? You have to think about his question. You don't remember. Everything happened so fast. In one second, you were asleep, and the next, you woke up at the sharp sound of breaking glass. You went to see what it was, and before you knew it, chaos ensued. Brahms broke through a mirror and killed everyone. Well, expect you.

He steps closer, and your back presses against the wall as you try to keep your distance from him. His hand lands on your shoulder, sliding over the curve until he reaches your neck. His touch is surprisingly gentle.

Oh, now you remember. One of the men grabbed your neck when they noticed you. Your head is still dizzy because of it. And because of everything else. "I'm fine," you tell him. "Please, Brahms." Tears gather in your eyes as you stand still in his hold. "Please, don't hurt me." The man frowns behind the mask as he moves his gaze from your neck to your face. Your face is wet from crying. Your eyes shine with tears and panic. He shakes his head. "If you are good to me, I will be good to you." His words do nothing to calm you down, and his thin voice makes you want to cry harder. How is it even possible? The boy, the man in front of you, should be dead. Taking a deep breath, you reach for his hand still on your neck. His fingers curl around your fingers instantly. "We have to do something with… them," you tell him, glancing at the lifeless bodies behind Brahms.

You are not even sure what you should do. Call the police? You are sure Brahms wouldn't let you, and you would end up in prison without a question. Nobody would believe you. But maybe being behind bars would be better than staying here.

"I will take care of them," Brahms says. His voice is normal now, and you are surprised at how good it sounds. "What will you do with them?" You ask him. "I will take care of them," he repeats his previous words, and you get the hint. "Okay," you nod. "Take care of them, Brahms." At your instruction, the man's posture straightens. He almost seems happy that you told him what to do. "I will go and make some tea, okay?" You ask him. He is not happy about letting you go out of his sight, but the promise of warm tea after he is done makes him relent.

You know this is your chance to escape, but you can't make yourself do it. You are too afraid. And too tired. You sit at the kitchen island for what it feels like forever. You hear Brahms moving around in the other room, and you can see his dark form outside, but the greenery of the garden hides what he is doing. Well, you have a guess, anyway.

"Are you done?" You ask him when he appears under the door of the kitchen. He is even more dirty than he was. His boots are almost black because of the mud outside.

You have to clean up everything tomorrow. You stop at the thought. What? There is no way you will stay and play nanny after this madness.

When Brahms nods, you push the other mug his way, and he sits down in front of you. "How will you-?" Before you can finish your question, he pulls on the mask, and you get a glimpse of his thick beard and lips. "Oh." For long seconds, none of you say anything. Brahms just stares at you while sipping from his cup, and you look back at him with several unanswered questions. "Brahms," you break the silence after a while, clearing your throat. You are still afraid to say the wrong thing and anger him. As it seems, he has a sure place for dead bodies. He says nothing but watches you, waiting. "You were here the… whole time?" He nods. "And the… doll? It is just a toy, isn't it?" He nods again. The thought of him watching you without your knowledge sends unease down your spine. He was there the whole time, and you did know nothing about it. "Your parents," you continue. The words roll down your tongue slowly and carefully. "They wanted to protect you." You heard about him killing a little girl. Brahms nods, putting down the mug onto the wooden surface. It's empty. You have not enough courage to ask him why he did what he did. "You…" Your throat tightens. "You killed those men so easily." He reminded you of a feral beast, taking down those men easily and quickly. Even when they begged, Brahms didn't have mercy in his heart to throw them out and let them run away. "They hurt you," he says. His gaze falls on your neck, watching the dark bruise already forming on your soft skin. It makes him angry. "You came out to protect me?" He looks into your eyes again as he nods. "Will you hurt me?" He thinks for a long, horrible second and shakes his head. The dark curls on the top of his head frame the porcelain mask on his face. "The mask," you continue. "You can take it off." His muscles tense, and he shakes his head again. "Okay," you nod, looking at the clock on the wall. "It's late Brahms. You should take a shower and go to sleep." "No," he replies, and his voice is childlike and high again. You frown at his answer. "Do you want to go to sleep like this?" You ask him. He is dirty and bloody and sweaty. He shakes his head. "Then go and shower. You will sleep better." "No." "Brahms," you sigh. "It's late, and I'm tired. Please, just do as I say." After watching over the doll for weeks, you fall into your caretaker role automatically. "Will you be there?" "While you shower?" He nods. "If you want me there." You have to force your face not to grimace. "Will you bathe me?" 'No' is your first reaction, but you keep it yourself. He is so calm now. You don't want to do anything that can disturb it. "If you want to." He nods again, standing up. "Then go and get some clothes and meet me in your room, okay?" You can see he wants to argue for a second but decides against it at the end. He must be tired, too.

While you wait for Brahms in his room, your eyes are glued to the doll in the middle of the bed. He stares back at you. The dim lights reflect in his glass eyes. You are almost angry at it. There were moments during your time here when you foolishly thought taking care of a toy wasn't the biggest waste of your time.

A thought gets stuck in your head, and you frown. Your eyes are still on the doll when you hear the real Brahms's arrival. "Brahms," you say his name. He stops, watching your back until you turn to look at him. He holds his clean clothes against his chest. "Your parent. They won't come back." Your question sounds like a statement, but the man nods anyway.

You need several deep breaths to calm yourself. Upsetting Brahms won't lead you anywhere good.

"Come," you break the silence after a while. Your voice is surprisingly steady. "The sooner you get cleaned, the sooner we can go to sleep."

In the small space of the bathroom, Brahms seems even bigger. He towers over you easily, watching you put his clean clothes on the toilet through his mask. His heart is wild in his chest. He imagined you this close to him so many times before. Of course, he acted on his desires several times, but now you are awake. You know about him. And you will stay. "Take off your clothes, Brahms," you tell him, trying to look everywhere else but him as he slowly does as you say. "You don't like me?" His voice is a mix of his real and childlike pitch. You gulp. "Of course, I like you, Brahms." "Then why don't you look at me?" He is confused. You don't like how he looks like? Maybe you would prefer Malcolm instead of him? The thought angers him. That man is weak and incapable of protecting you. You force yourself to look at him. "I just thought you would feel uncomfortable," you lie. Oh. The man calms down within a second. How nice of you. "Now go," you tell him, pointing at the already running water. For a moment, you think he will obey again, but at the last second, he grabs your wrist, trying to pull you with himself. "Brahms!" You gasp. "What are you doing?" "You are dirty, too." "I will take a shower after you go to sleep." "No." "Brahms!" You don't stand a chance against his strength. The sleeve of your shirt is already wet. "Get in with me!" The anger is clear and powerful in his voice. Blood freezes in your veins at his sudden aggression. "Okay! Okay!" You gasp, afraid. With a quick step, you are under the water, too, letting your clothes get soaked and stick to your body.

Being so close to him, you don't have any other option but to stare at his bare upper body. His skin is several shades darker, with dried blood and dirt on it. His chest is covered in dark hair that barely hides his hard muscles. How can he be so fit while living inside the walls?

"No," he breaks the silence when you reach out for the sponge. "I don't want that." After his last outburst, you decide to let it go. Pouring some soap in your palm, you smear it all over his chest. Your lungs burn for air as you stare into nothing, trying not to think about what you are doing right now. You can feel his muscles quiver and move under your touch. "Am I a good boy?" Brahms asks, making you look up at him in surprise. "Yes," you reply. "You are a good boy." "I protected you." "You did, Brahms." "And good boys get rewards, right?" You gulp. "I guess you are right." "Then take off your clothes." Fuck. "I will take off my clothes if you wash your hair. I can't reach it." The man thinks about it for a second, then nods. By the time you reach for your shirt, he is already washing his hair.

Brahms's heart thuds in his chest as he watches you get rid of your clothes. Soon, you are bare and soft in front of him. Your hair is soaked, and small drops of water run over your skin, caressing the parts he wants to touch, too. His large palms almost burn with need, and his fingers twitch with need. "Am I still a good boy?" He asks, staring down at you. He doesn't even try to hide the fact that he is mesmerized by your breasts. Your nipples are hard peaks almost grazing his chest. "Yes." Your reply is barely louder than a whisper. "Then I can wash you too." It's more of a statement. "Brahms, I don't think it-" Your words end in a startled gasp as he tugs you closer without your permission. His hands are large on your back. His erection is pressed between your bodies. The friction makes him grunt. He caresses your skin, starting on your back and slowly but surely slipping to your front. His thumb flicks over your nipples, playing and teasing them. "Brahms!" You want to sound stern, but your voice trembles at the pleasurable feeling that goes straight between your legs. When he tugs on one of your nipples, your back arches on its own. He knows your body better than you think, and his little secret pulls a naughty smirk on his lips. "Y/N," he says your name, almost whining. "You said I am a good boy." "You are," you tell him. "But you shouldn't-" Your moan is loud and clear in the small room. His long fingers slip between your legs even when you try to close your thighs. "Let me get my reward," he says, on the edge of demanding. "I am a good boy, Y/N. I protected you from those men." "You did," you cry out, feeling him on your most intimate part. His fingertips graze over your slit, opening you up to caress you some more. He isn't sure what he is doing, but it doesn't stop your body from reacting. You feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. His breathing is heavy next to your ear, and his hips rock against your stomach. He grinds his cock to your skin for some friction and whines every now and again. "Teach me, Y/N," he says. "Tell me what to do to be your good boy." If he is a good boy, you won't leave him. You won't even try it. "M-my clit," you tell him, reaching down for his hand to lead him to the small buddle of nerves. "Rub it, Brahms. Here!" He does as you say, watching your face to see what feels good and what isn't. The man draws small circles on your clit while his fingers get soaked in your juices. He can feel the familiar pull on his balls as he continues to grind against your body. Your soft stomach feels like heaven on his aching cock. Your hands snap up to his shoulders, grabbing onto the man to keep your balance. Your legs shake, and your thighs open for his curious fingers. He feels proud when he notices it. "Call me a good boy," he pants demandingly. "Tell me I'm your good boy, and you won't leave me." His fingers on you move faster, rubbing and teasing. "You are my good boy, Brahms," you tell him, gasping and moaning. Hot coil burns in your stomach as you feel your orgasm approaching. "So good!"

You almost fall against the tiles when Brahms squats down in front of you. Your nails scratch over the wall to find your balance. For long seconds, you forget how to breathe as you stare down at the man's curly, wet locks in front of you. You can feel the cold of his mask on your thigh as he pushes it out of the way. "Brahms!" Hearing his name falling out of your lips in a shocked cry makes his cock jerk and leak even more pre-cum.

The scent of your arousal is thick and heavy in his nostrils. Saliva gathers in his mouth as he takes several deep breaths to burn your smell in his memory. When one of your hands finds his hair in a strong pull, he doesn't waste any more time. He leans closer and closes his lips around the small bud he teased a few minutes ago. The vibration of his moan strikes over your body. Your taste floods his mouth, and he can't help but crave more. He devours your pussy like his life depends on it. His tongue flicks over your clit, and his cheeks hollow when he starts to suck on it. "Fuck!" You scream, letting your head fall backward. "Brahms!" Your hips grind down on his face with fastened pace as you chase your release. His muffled whines and moans echo in the small bathroom, mixing with your cries until both of you reach your highs and fall over the edge. His cum lands on the ground until the still running water washes it down the drain while your pussy gets cleaned by his tongue. Your muscles twitch and jerk under every swipe on your sensitive center. "Good boy, Brahms," you gasp for air. "You are my good boy."

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