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yandere-daydreams · 2 months

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Title: In The Serpent's Den.

Pairing: Yandere!Suguru x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 4.7k.

TW: Non/Con, Hybrid AU, AFAB!Reader, Cobra!Suguru, Rabbit!Reader, Biting, Aphrodisiacs, Heat Cycles, Oviposition, Manipulation, Biting, Breeding Kinks, and Predator/Prey Dynamics.

“It’s time to come out, little rabbit.”

His tone was sickly sweet, lulled into something saccharine and tempting, only slightly distorted by the uncommon shape of his tongue. Despite his melodic coaxing, you curled further into yourself – pulling your thighs flush to your chest and burying your knees in your face, doing your best not to breathe, not to cry, not to make a sound. The temptation to uncurl yourself entirely and run, run, run until you found somewhere small and dark and safe gnawed on the back of your mind, but it never would’ve worked. You were in Suguru’s enclosure, Suguru’s territory, and there was nowhere to run where he wouldn’t be able to follow.

“I’m losing my patience, little rabbit. If you come out now, I promise I’ll try to hold myself back.”

Why was he even looking for you? It’d been weeks since his eccentric, white-haired owner forced you into the sprawling greenhouse that made up Suguru’s enclosure, and he’d never paid you a second glance. You did your best to avoid him, to make sure you never crossed his path while he was prowling for a meal. You could count the number of times he’d acknowledged you on a single hand, and he’d never so much as lunged at you. You couldn’t imagine why he’d decided you’d make a good meal now, after weeks of relatively peaceful cohabitation. Maybe he’d gotten tired of keeping you around, of having to share his territory with another hybrid – one so far below him on the food chain. Maybe, this was just the first time he’d gotten hungry enough to hunt you down.

You heard branches shift, twigs break, and instantly, all of your thoughts (rational and otherwise) were replaced with a frantic, buzzing static. “You’re only making this worse for yourself,” Suguru went on, and his voice was too loud, too close. You’d tucked yourself into the densest patch of foliage you could find, but your white ears and cottony tail stood out like blood on snow against the vivid greens and blacks of the flora. Suddenly, trying to hide at all felt stupid. Rabbits weren’t supposed to hide. Rabbits were supposed to die and get eaten by the big, mean snakes who preyed on them. “I’m going to find you, and when I do, you’re only going to be sorry you made me wait as long as I have.”

You could hear the dull drag of scales moving over rough stone, the ebbing ‘hiss’ that formed a slight lisp at the end of each sentence. You raised your head just far enough to see a large, black shape move in front of you, and something buried deep inside of you cracked and spilled open.

Running wasn’t a choice – it was the only option. You were on your feet in a second, sprinting deeper into the greenhouse in another. The direction didn’t matter. As long as you got away from him, nothing else mattered.

Blindly, you vaulted over fallen branches and overgrown roots, rotting leaf litter threatening to steal your balance as you veered away from the beaten path and threw yourself into the tangled wilderness. If Suguru was chasing you, you couldn’t hear him – the world little more than a blur of color and your own racing pulse. You just needed to find somewhere better to hide, somewhere he’d forgotten. A tunnel, or a tree hollow, or a cave dark enough to hide your snowy pelt from prying eyes. You just needed to—

Your trek came to an abrupt end as your collided with a pane of thick, emerald-tinted glass and were sent crashing to the ground. It took you a second to process what you’d run into – the wall of the greenhouse, the edge of Suguru’s enclosure – and another to remember that you weren’t in the wilderness, anymore, that you wouldn’t find a tunnel or a cave or anywhere else to hide that hadn’t been created deliberately to trick animals like you into to think they were safe. You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so desperate. You might’ve gone looking for Suguru yourself, if you hadn’t been too scared to remember what it meant to be caged.

Fighting back tears, you started to scramble onto your feet, but it was already too late. There was no sound, no warning, just a sudden pressure against your back and an agonizing pain burrowed into the side of your throat. His fangs were planted in your neck before you could so much as scream, his strong tail wrapped around your legs and his arms crossed over your midriff, keeping your body locked against his as he pinned you to the ground. You expected his venom to burn, to be able to feel death as it flooded into your veins, but instead, there was only a slight numbing sensation around the point of insertion, a distant fog over your senses that might’ve just been your own fading adrenaline. If anything, you felt…

You felt warm.

Suguru took his time pulling away, his ribbon-like tongue flickering over the skin of your throat before he lifted his head. You weren’t facing him, one of your cheeks pressed into the dirt, but you could just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, make out the dark hair tucked behind his shoulders, the pitch-black scales littered over his face, his chest. You knew he was a snake, but you thought you might’ve heard his owner call him something else, once or twice. A ‘cobra’, maybe, but you’d never met a cobra before. You felt safer thinking of him as a snake.

He opened his mouth, but you were already babbling. Trying not to cry had been useless. Tears poured down your cheeks unabashedly, blurring your vision and making it that much harder to spit something coherent out. “P-please don’t eat me – I’m really small for a rabbit, and I promise I won’t taste very good, and I—”

“Quiet, little rabbit.” You’d been wrong, before. You didn’t feel warm, no, you felt hot – something deep inside of you beginning to smolder at the sound of his voice. Immediately, you shut your mouth, and he rewarded you with a raspy chuckle. “You thought I was going to… to eat you?” You nodded stiltedly, and he went on. “Ah, no wonder you were so afraid. And here I thought my timid little bunny just didn’t like me very much.”

“…’m sorry.” You must’ve run farther than you realized. A few minutes of sprinting shouldn’t have left you this breathless, this dazed. “You… You aren’t going to eat me?”

“No, bunny. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“But, you bit—”

“I gave you a present.” Another dry chuckle, his tongue flitting over the back of your neck. “Just a little something to make sure you wouldn’t be so shy. You should already be feeling better.”

You weren’t sure that you felt better, but you didn’t feel scared, either. A different feeling had taken the place of your fear – the sensation viscous and churning and prone sending pangs of dull, burning pain to the pit of your stomach. You had to make a conscious effort to move your lips, and even then, it was hard to get any sound past your suddenly dry throat. Suguru waited patiently, seemingly more than happy to watch you stumble over your own tongue. “It’s really warm,” you managed, eventually. “I think I might be… tired?”

“Oh, of course. I forgot how easy it is for prey animals to wear themselves out. I’ll take you back to my nest, where you’ll be able to rest safely.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded eagerly. Safe. You wanted to be safe. You couldn’t remember what you needed to be safe from anymore, though.

He uncurled, but didn’t pull away from you. Rather, your smaller body was pulled against his broad chest as he took you in his arms and carried you through the greenhouse. His destination was a raised loft – set above the wild foliage of his enclosure, accessible only by a sparsely wrung ladder you never would’ve had a hope of climbing on your own. His nest wasn’t at all like a rabbit’s nest, either. Rather than a deep, dark tunnel padded with fur and leaves, he’d taken you to a mess of tangled roots and woven blankets, all piled onto one another to form a box-like bed. Your form, limper than you would’ve liked it to be, was laid on a relatively soft patch, and Suguru positioned himself above you; upper body supported by his forearms, his never-ending tail taking up whatever space you left unoccupied. You wanted to sleep, to do what he said you should, but he was still touching you – dragging a single, clawed finger down your chest and over your midriff, only pausing at your waist to draw slow, swirling patterns into your hip. “My venom has a unique side-effect, you know,” he muttered, his voice low and soothing, the tapered tip of his tail lashing from side to side as he spoke. “A full dose would be fatal. It’d be fast, too – a few seconds of screaming, a few seconds of twitching, and then—” He paused, clicked his tongue. “—dead, just like that. It’s a little anti-climactic, to be honest.”

Something deep inside of you began to throb. You shrunk into yourself, trying to relieve the pulsing ache, but Suguru mistook your agony for fear. “In controlled portions,” he continued, splaying his open palm over your hip. “The symptoms are much more pronounced. Humans tend to get all feverish and clumsy, but hybrids—”

Again, he paused. His hand drifted lower – first to your thigh, then your cunt. You didn’t realize you were dripping until his cold fingertips skirted over your slit, gathering up the slick already staining the inside of your thighs.

“Hybrids go into heat.”

A cold wave of dread washed over you, and Suguru’s smile widened.

“…heat?”

“Heat, little rabbit.”

His hand lingered on your pussy, two of his massive fingers splitting apart your lips and making room for his tongue to lap gingerly over your entrance. The sensation was strange – not good and not bad, a little ticklish – but your hips bucked as it flickered over your clit. You knew better than to get so close to a snake’s mouth, but you couldn’t seem to move, to think about anything but getting closer, closer to anything that could touch and poke and lick you. “Is heat—” You started, only to be cut off by a cracked whimper as the throbbing in your core intensified. “Is it supposed to hurt?”

“Only for a while.” His deep voice reverberated against your cunt, and you couldn’t stop yourself; attempting to rock your hips against his mouth with a high-pitched whine. It was embarrassing to be so needy, so desperate, but Suguru didn’t seem to mind, only ghosting his lips over the inside of your thigh as he pushed you back down. “But, you’ll need a mate to help you through it. Do you want a mate?”

“Y-Yes! Mate!” You’d never felt this empty, before. It was a little like hunger, but not as jagged, not as desolate. It was more of an absence than anything more tangible; a total and complete vacancy that had to be filled. You tried to roll onto your stomach, to scramble onto your hands and knees and present yourself, but Suguru held you in place with minimal effort. Your protest came in the form of a drawn-out whine, a waving sound Suguru mocked with a low coo and an airy laugh. “Please, please, it hurts, Suguru, I can’t— I need—”

“You need cock,” he finished, his tone one of pure, undeniable satisfaction. With a sigh, he picked himself up, straightening his back and towering above you. You felt saliva pool at the bottom of your mouth as the junction between his upper body and his tail came into view – pale skin slowly giving way to ebony scales, the sculpted muscle of his chest meeting the plated armor below his hips. His hand fell away from you, but you couldn’t mourn the loss of contact, not when your attention was so fixated on the thin, almost invisible slit just below his pubic bone. His fingertips slipped shallowly inside of it, and his gaze shifted back to you. “Come, little bunny. I think you’ve earned another treat.”

The encouragement was appreciated, but unnecessary. You were already crawling towards him, your limbs uncooperative and your movements jolting but your resolve absolute. There was still a throbbing emptiness inside of you, getting worse and more demanding with each neglectful second, but all you could think about was settling onto your knees in front of Suguru and drooling at the sight of his fluttering slit. You weren’t sure what to do, whether to use your hands or your mouth, but Suguru didn’t leave much time for indecision. His free hand found its way to the back of your head, nudging you forward until your mouth was pressed against his slit, just starting to leak thick trails of translucent slick over his dark scales. Your tongue darted past your lips hesitantly, at first, but your trepidation didn’t last very long. It couldn’t, not when you had a hollow pit inside of you still begging to be filled.

Suguru’s fingers carded through your hair as you lapped and sucked at his slit. The taste was mildly acidic, but surprisingly sweet – your eyes quickly falling shut as you sank into a pattern of wet sounds and strange textures and point claws grazing over your scalp, scratching at your ears. Throaty moans (the loudest noise you would ever hear Suguru make, in hindsight) and mumbled praise trickled past his lips as you worked, letting you know that he liked the way you were curling your tongue, that the spongy spot you could just barely reach inside of him was particularly sensitive. It wasn’t long before a mix of your saliva and his arousal dripped past the corners of your mouth, before the end of his tail was lashing violently within the confines of his nest. Maybe Suguru was in heat, too. You hoped he was. You didn’t want to be the only one in so much pain.

You felt the tapered tip of something smooth and stiff against your tongue, and Suguru buckled forward, a ragged gasp tearing past his lips as he took your head in both hands and pressed you flush against his abdomen. Confused and panicked, you tried to pull away, but his grip was iron-clad and it was all you could do to whimper, to sit there helplessly while something filled your mouth – hard and ridged and hot enough to burn. Cock, the pulsing in your core filled in, but it couldn’t be. Suguru had made it sound like something you needed, something you were supposed to want, but you didn’t like the way the blunt head prodded at the back of your throat, the way the ridged underside ground against your tongue. For the first time since he’d caught you, your instincts agreed with your better judgement, both urging you to get away, to run, to put distance between yourself and this newfound threat.

Your pussy, though, couldn’t seem to do anything but chant mate, mate, mate.

You could feel something else, too – not in your mouth, but pressing into your chin, your throat. Reflexively, your hands shot up, wrapping around the thick intruder, and this time, Suguru let go of you entirely, biting back a half-choked groan as he pushed you away, leaving you sprawled out and alone in the center of his nest. The hollowness inside of you was nearly unbearable, and rubbing your thighs together only seemed to make it worse. You tried to look to Suguru, to ask him to do something, but instead, your eyes caught on the long, pale appendage pressed into his lower stomach. His cock. Or, his cocks, you guessed.

You hadn’t expected there to be two of them.

You hadn’t expected them to be so big, either. Even at a distance, it was clear they weren’t meant for a rabbit. Just one would’ve been more than you could handle – as long as your forearm, as thick as your wrist, the end tapered to a steep point but the base absolutely massive before they disappeared into his slit. The color was strange, too – the tip flushed a dull pink while the base was nearly as dark as his scales, creating an ombre that might’ve been pretty, if you weren’t so terrified. You couldn’t see any veins, but both were sculpted with pronounced, perfectly spaced ridges. You couldn’t imagine having something like that inside of you, but you couldn’t imagine not having anything inside of you, either.

You couldn’t be sure how long you spent staring up at him, trying to wrap your head around his size, trying to decide if you’d rather be torn apart by his cock or your own increasingly demanding needs. In the end, it wasn’t really your choice to make. His eyes darted from your clenched thighs to your heaving chest to yours, wide and watery, and a grin found its way back to his lips. For some reason, his smile wasn’t as comforting as it’d been, the first time you saw it. “I’m sorry, little rabbit. Did I startle you?” The tenderness in his voice was almost cloying. You didn’t move, didn’t respond, but he didn’t seem to need you to. “I didn’t mean to. Why don’t you spread your legs nice n’ wide for me, and I’ll make it up to you?”

Your gaze fell back to his cocks. One of his fists had wrapped around both, pumping idly while he stood above you. “Are those supposed to…?” You trailed off, shrinking into yourself. Suguru hummed, and you took it as confirmation. “But you’ll only use one, right? I don’t think I can— I mean, it won’t fit if you—”

“Really? I could’ve sworn you were begging to be fucked properly just a few minutes ago.” You stiffened, but he only laughed. “Fine, fine. If that’s what you think you want, I’ll only use one.”

You didn’t think you could trust him, but you could feel yourself getting hot, again, a haze forming over your mind. You could leave when he was finished, you figured, even if you weren’t entirely sure how to get out of his nest, or where to go once you’d escaped back into the greenhouse. After you got over your— your heat.

Hesitantly, you started to listen to the negging mantra still playing in the back of your mind, to obey the near-deafening voice in the back of your head urging you to get on your hands and knees and make him fuck you, but Suguru must’ve decided you weren’t moving fast enough. His tail shifted underneath you, a thick coil catching your side and leaving you bent over one of the thicker lengths, your stomach pressed into his cool scales and your feet barely able to reach the tangled roots of his nest. You scrambled for purchase, but Suguru was there to steady you – his hands finding your hips, his cocks pressing into your ass. The calloused pads of his fingertips pressed into your waist as he aligned one of his cocks – the upper one, you thought, just a little thicker than its twin – with your entrance. He was kind enough to give you a long, slow second to breathe before his hips rutted forward and he inside of you.

Immediately, it felt wrong.

You’d been right when you decided he was too big for you. He was only half-sheathed, and yet, the tip of his cock pressed into the floor of your cervix, the head of his cock alone enough to stretch your pussy as far as it could go. Thankfully, he didn’t try to force himself deeper, but feeling the smooth ridges of rub against the walls of your pussy as he pulled back wasn’t much better. Still, your cunt clenched around him eagerly, doing its best to suck him in despite your physical limitations. Suguru, of course, seemed more than happy to indulge you. His thrusts were slow and lethargic, as gentle as they could’ve been but still forceful enough to leave you pinned to the curve of his tail. You weren’t in control of your body, anymore. As he rolled his hips against your ass, you ground back against him, your greedy cunt never warm enough, never wet enough, never full enough. You tried to dig your blunt claws into his tail, to ground yourself, but it was a futile effort; a limping dear attempting to evade a wolf who’d already tasted its blood. Suguru’s only response was a stifled groan, a new roughness to the way he fucked into you. You felt his chest against your back as he bent at the waist, draping himself over you, his dark hair falling from his shoulder and replacing chunks of your vision with a curtain of thick, endless black. It didn’t matter. A fresh wave of tears would’ve left you just as helpless, not that Suguru seemed to mind the way you sniffled and sobbed between moans.

“They say— fuck, you know what they say about rabbits, don’t you, bunny?” His voice was barely audible, but it seemed to echo on and on and on in your overly sensitive ears. His cock ground against something softened and vulnerable inside of you and your back arched, your pussy clenching impossibly tighter around him. “That’s it,” Suguru encouraged, as you tried to pry yourself away from his freezing tail and chase the gentle warmth of his chest. “They say bunnies make the best sluts. Knock them up once, and they’ll never stop begging for it.”

Kits. A strong mate. A safe nest. The thought alone had you crying out for nothing, your convulsions growing that much more erratic, and Suguru chuckled in-turn. “Like that? Want me to make you into my little mate-whore?”

“Want it, please, w-want it so bad.” It was all you could do to force yourself to speak, to spit something out through the daze of lust and exhaustion and total, unrelenting fullness. You’d never been more sure of anything than you were in that moment, never knew something as deeply as you knew that you wanted Suguru’s kits inside of you. “Please, wanna be you mate, wanna—Suguru—!”

One more thrust, one more scape of his sleek scales against your clit, and you were coming undone around his cock in jolting, erratic convulsions. Suguru let out a ragged grunt and straightened his back, but the distance was short-lived. Strong arms snaked under your knees, spreading your legs and hauling you up to his height. Your back remained pressed against his chest as he pulled out of you entirely and slammed back in. Even through the overstimulation, the wrongness hit you immediately. His cock was too big, too thick, and—

And he was inside of you.

Completely inside of you.

You forced yourself to open your eyes, letting your head fall forward limply. The shock was minimal, but still devastating – both of Suguru’s cocks buried inside of you to their pitch-black bases, their outlines just barely visible against the plush flesh of your lower stomach. “You—You promised you wouldn’t—”

His face was buried in the dip of your shoulder, his lips parted as panted against you. You felt his teeth catch on your skin before sinking into you, had time to process the pure heat of his venom seeping into your veins. Instantly, anything you might’ve said died on your tongue, your mind going utterly, entirely blank save for a single thought: mate.

Your mouth fell open, your thighs spreading that much farther. Suguru pressed a lingering, open-mouthed kiss into the injection site, then pulled away, grinning wildly. “A few drops, and you’ll want everything I have to give you,” he muttered. “That’s better, isn’t it, bunny?”

Much better. You could feel something swelling at the base of his cock, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge anything other than the utter bliss as a small, round shape was milked up the length of his cock and emptied into your core. Kits, you thought, and did your best to settle onto his twin cocks, to hold still as another egg was forced through your tight pussy. You stopped trying to count after the fourth – giving in completely to the shuddering, splintering euphoria every new member of your little family brought you. By the time the final egg was safe and snug inside of you, you were limp, twitching, and so full, it was hard to imagine ever feeling empty again.

As the last aftershocks started to fade, Suguru sucked in a stilted gasp and pulled you flush against his chest. You felt his second cock twitch once, then twice inside of you before something warm and thick flooded into your pussy. You whined miserably as he pulled out of you, but he didn’t stay gone for very long. Your pliable body was turned around in his arms, his cocks slid back into your leaking cunt as he carefully lowered himself onto the floor of his nest – your body laid on top of his. You strung your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against his chest, closing your eyes and giving in to your well-earned exhaustion.

You lasted just long enough to hear him mutter something about mates and clutches before your consciousness faded entirely and your mind went mercifully, blissfully silent.

Hours later, you woke up to the sound of a low, long whistle. “Really did a number on the poor thing, huh, Suguru?”

It took you a second to blink your eyes open, to raise your head and glance toward the man standing at the top of the ladder that led to Suguru’s nest, and another to recognize him as Suguru’s owner. His white hair was in a state of disarray, his eyes hidden behind circles of tinted glass, and for some reason, he was looking at you. You shrunk further into Suguru, but he only laughed – the noise loud and piercing to your foggy senses.

Suguru’s cocks were no longer inside of you, the flushed tips just barely visible at the base of his slit. You were still on his chest, and his arms were wrapped around your waist, his hold loose but possessive. There was a small bump over your lower stomach, and you weren’t sure whether to grimace or beam at the feeling of Suguru’s eggs shifting inside of you with every little movement. He was already awake – had been for some time, judging by the unimpressed scowl pressed into his lips. Something sharp and icy lodged itself into your chest, but his glare was directed towards his owner, not you, and the very tip of his tail curled around your ankle protectively as his owner stepped into his nest.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to walk into a serpent’s den?”

“I don’t think it counts if I own the den.” He straddled the bulk of Suguru’s tail, then gestured to you. “Turn the pretty baby around. I wanna see the damage.”

You shook your head vehemently, clinging to Suguru’s neck, but his own response was an exasperated sigh, a fleeting hiss to your cheek as he flipped you over; leaving you slayed across his chest and exposed to his owner’s prying gaze. “Five minutes,” he said, as his owner shrugged the waistband of his pants down just far enough to free his cock, already half-hard, already enough to send a bolt of pure dread from your heart to the pit of your stomach. “I don’t want your scent on my mate.”

You opened your mouth, ready to whine that you were sore, that you were tired, that you didn’t want anyone but Suguru and your kits inside of you, but the words withered into nothing on your tongue as his owner eased himself into your dripping pussy, as Suguru caught you by the chin and pulled you into a shallow, lingering kiss – the points of his fangs just barely scraping over your bottom lip. Looking back on it, it had been silly to ever worry that he’d eat you.

You should’ve been worried that he wouldn’t.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #hybrid au #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #jjk imagines #yandere geto suguru #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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flamingpudding · 5 months

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Danny, the 'twig' Bouncer

The job was just a temporary solution. It was a means to an end. To help him handle his obsession until things were better. Until it was safe to be out again. Until he could roam around freely without fear. Until he no longer needed to lay low or be on the run. Until he could return to being Phantom.

This job helped keep his obsession somewhat sedated. Sure, it was a shady bar, but it beat working out in the open in some other way or becoming a non-ghost vigilante and risking his human persona too.

Besides people tented to underestimate him because he was a 'twig' in their eyes. The bar owner nearly didn't hire him until he easily flipped a human truck over his shoulder and threw the guy out the back door on his interview day.

But again this was just meant to be temporary. He got to fight the trouble makers and protect customers from the rowdy crowd.

At some point, the people even started cheering whenever Danny was on the clock, his coworkers even leaving the heavy hitters to him. It was kind of fun always seeing the sound looks of the big guys that didn't think Danny could throw them out the door with one hand. The owner had said something about getting more customers ever since Danny started working for him.

Danny even recognized regulars now. Tho there was this one guy with a red helmet that gave him a weird feeling. But the guy wasn't making trouble so Danny left him alone.

Besides the Bar Owner always pet his shoulder after he threw someone out. That meant he did a good job right?

Though Danny did wonder how long this temporary job would last.

Yea his Fenton luck struck again. Danny didn't know faces. The bar was a shady place but neutral zone according to the owner but there was the golden rule of not messing with Joker. Danny had agreed even tho he didn't know who that guy was.

Soo the day came a clown made trouble in the bar and no one else appeared to want to do something. So what did Danny do? His job. He punched the guy, knocked him out and threw him right out the door a little too hard into a brick wall. He might have broken a couple of that clown guys bones. Hello trauma, Freakshow greets you.

The bar was dead silent right after, everyone staring at him like he had just signed a death sentence. The owner had then pushed him out the door and muttered something about sending Danny on vacation and to return in a month if he was still alive by then.

Did that mean he was fired or got a weird kind of promotion?

Why was that guy in a furry suit staring him down now?

Also why was the red helmet regular suddenly trying to hire him for his gang?

Really Danny just wanted a simple job that sedated his obsession, this was not what he expected to happen for a job well done.

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evilminji · 1 month

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Okay, you know how bird don't ACTUALLY look the way we think they do?

They are far more colorful? But only to the eyes of other birds?

And it has to do with how light reflects off them and how their eyes are shaped etc etc.?

Well..... humans can see the most shades of green, right? But! We sure as shit can't see UltaViolet and InfraRed? Or shades BEYOND those. Ectoplasmic colors. Magical ones. Third eye, need to see with your SOUL type ones.

Danny? Could very well still have lil baby "kitten's eyes who haven't open yet" syndrome.

He thinks the Zone is Green and his hair is white.

But it's not.

His hair is Starlight colored. Frost. His suit is specifically "the void between stars" colored. Which looks... different? Then black? No, no, guys. How can you guys not see it? It looks REALLY different! How did he not NOTICE before?! They're not ever CLOSE to the same shade! It's like calling salmon and hot pink the same. You know... if you were to compare an actual fish and some irradiated, violently glowing version of "hot pink".

......guys?

His gloves are.... guys, these ares stars. Pressed so close together there's no gap. His body is the night sky, all rearranged. He's wearing SPACE, guys.

*continues to stare at his gloves for the next five hours*

Now... why is this relevant? Because! Danny slowly, as all humans do, adjusts! It's like finally having glasses after years of blurry vision. He... forgets, what it was like, not NOT See Zone Colors. Not completely, mind you, but enough he has to be reminded.

And the Zone? A Realm of the Dead. Specifically, the great catch-all and highway of the Dead. They get EVERYBODY. Misfits and vagabonds. Those who don't quite fit. Funky lil dudes. And of course, assholes, but everybody has those! See, Zone colors?

Are DIFFERENT.

They're all of um!

It's like looking at the technicolor, stobe light, multi galaxies in one, Sun. Tingly(tm)!!! You get used to it. What helps? Is that as garish as the Zone is? The painting and grand tapestry of it all? Keeps changing. Like weather. If it's too much for you, you can stay inside your Lair until the current Color changes. Until the designs shift. Vibe changes.

There are even glasses for that! "Temperate" areas for people to set up, that get headaches or are just... kinda killjoys. Too each their own. Though the stormy areas? Those guys are freaks. Watch out for those guys. They're the kind who stare directly are stars until their eyes burn out.

Where was I? Oh yeah! Danny!

No longer a wee baby, smol baby, twig-o!

Sad. We miss it.

But he did get used to Seeing The Colors. Got a handle on his powers. And! Finally worked with his parents on how to safely turn the portal OFF. There was much booing. Cries of "kill joy" and "booo! You suck!". But? Like? Dude DID have the right to protect his home. Go to college. What can you do?

Problem with THAT is? Baby grew into his "built like a brick shit house of constantly running off to literally tackle the Supernatural excellence" Fenton genetics. He Tall. Muscles! And he PUMPING out "somethings fucked up with me" Vibes!

Add in his DEEPLY Sus off hand comments. Weird ability to tell when someone has or is about to die. Basic immunity to the cold. Fuckin EYE GLOW?

Ha ha... *Horror movie screams from his college dorm mates*

Clearly a demon!

He gets kicked out. Well... not kicked out. He's a model student and broken no rules. They'd never survive the lawsuit. But... he's? STRONGLY INCOURAGED to finish his education elsewhere. Repeatedly. By like... 15 colleges.

Sam is not just livid, she's actively foaming at the mouth.

Breathe, Sam! Remember what your doctor said! Your mortal body can't handle that kinda Vengance spiral! Think of your blood pressure! Breathe!!! (Were not for the laws of this land... and the weak, fleshy constraints of her mortal form!)

Thankfully? Tucker's been interning, remotely of course, with Wayne Industries. He asked his manager where he could find some of those scholarship forms. (Since Gotham University is just a touch out of Danny's price range.) Manager wanted to know why. And oh! Oh holy shit. Apparently? Danny is the hot new office gossip.

People in the main office are OUTRAGED. Danny's "too spooky"?! Too FUCKIN SPOOKY!? Are you KIDDING THEM? Even juicier, a Meta kid from some wacky ghost hunters turned scientists. From a line of Supernatural hunters. Wants to be a aeronautics engineer.

Ooooooh how SPOOKY! Better watch out! He'll design an ENGINE at yooooou!

Fuckin casuals. Non-Gothamites are WEAK. "Too scary" their collective asses. Yeah, maybe the kid SHOULD come too Gotham. He can be the weird kid. Mildly unsettling or something. His powers won't be SHIT in Gotham. Just remind him to buy a gas mask.

So! Danny gets his Scholarship! Merrily packs his bags for darker, Gothic hellscape hills. Unaware... that Constantine has been following reports of a "demon" that he's? 80% sure is a Banshee but MIGHT be a winter spirt with a shtick? For the past 13 colleges. He's getting closer. And this sucker is a strong one.

Not "this is going to cause me serious, life imperilling danger" strong. But more? "Man, that cat is HUUUUUGE". Could he still get mauled a lil? Yeah. Scratched to all hell and back? Probably! But DIE? Unlikely.

He just needs to know why the FUCK this spirit his hanging around colleges.

Which is made harder... by the fact that what HE sees? And what OTHER people see? When they look at this guy? Separate things. Yeah, he'd LOVE to give you guys a description! IF HE HAD ONE.

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hdgnj @spidori @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @lolottes

#dc x dp prompt #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #minji's writing

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sashayed · 11 months

Text

The other day on my walk I saw a mockingbird diving and wheeling over and over into a little bush, very agitated. Eventually I saw there was a big crow in among the bush twigs, presumably trying to get at what must be her nest. Feeling it my duty as the human observer to side with the smaller bird/distressed mom on this I strode over and said to the crow "Hey bud, go eat something else." The crow flapped off, seeming peeved, and the mockingbird flew after it and did not thank me. I walked home feeling virtuous but also a little doubtful, because I love crows, and the world of eating and being eaten is not congruent with human morality. Plus a lot of the time mockingbirds are just being dicks. I didn't actually even see a nest. Maybe that crow was just hiding in the bushes from being fucking hassled. In general I wondered if it had been my place to take sides.

Anyway so the last couple of days, a bunch of crows have been gathering closer and closer to my apartment. They don't do anything, they just peer in the window and make the cats frantic. "It was one nest," I told them. "There's all kinds of stuff to eat in those woods. There's berries and bugs. You had to follow me home about this?" Crows didn't say shit. Just ruffled at me and looked at the cats in a disdainful, snacky way.

Finally I said aloud "Crow, I'm very sorry I got high and mighty with you about that mockingbird. I didn't even see you eating any eggs, and it was none of my business." I put out some seeds and peanuts, and now they have all left. They're not even eating the peanuts! They just wanted an apology.

#fucking crows!! i love them.#anyway we're bringing back household rituals to appease offended nature spirits girls join me if u dare

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radio-writes · 2 months

Note

Going on anon bc this is a bit messed up but can you write Alastor x reader where Alastor uses sex as a form of torture?

Fuck your God and His Righteous Hand(s)

Synopsis: Hasn't Alastor always been such generous partner? Hasn't He always provided for you? Given you everything and anything you ever wanted? Except for your freedom of course.

The night you decide to run away from his graciousness, you find out just how generous he could be.

Warnings: noncon, forced relationship, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, physical harm to reader, degradation, smut, over stimulation, tentacles are used (I probably missed a lot, let me know)

Tags: Alastor x fem!reader; dead dove do not eat

MDNI

Your heart beat loudly against your chest, your breath ragged and heavy. Branches and twigs snapped and broke and fell all around you as you ran.

Not that you could hear any of it over the overwhelming sound of static flooding your ears.

As if the dark wasn't terrifying enough, you had to stumble through the woods with tears blurring your vision too. Arm stretched in front of you, swatting away vines in your path as you desperately tried to get away.

You had to get away.

You couldn't get away.

You could almost feel the ground shake beneath your feet. You could almost feel his breath that skimmed the back of your head. There was no use in running, but run you did anyway.

You kept running even when you felt his clawed fingers grab at your shirt; the fabric tearing easily.

You kept running even when you could hear his voice right by your ear. "I think it's in your best interest not to anger me any more, darling."

You couldn't keep running when a heavy, velvety tentacle wrapped around your ankle; your breath knocked out of you as you tumbled onto the forest floor.

Your hand outstretched, palm reaching into the darkness. It was a terrifying, unknown, and threatening darkness—but to you it still meant freedom.

That was the last clear thing you saw before you landed flat on your stomach, the weight of your failed escape weighing you down more than the dark shadow around your leg.

He was laughing.

He was out of breath, panting almost as heavily as you were, but he was laughing.

You heard the crunch of leaves and twigs as he approached your collapsed form. No longer rushing, no longer frantic. He seemed to take his time as he walked towards you, now that he's sure you couldn't get away.

Still, the tentacle holding you down tightened—a warning not to try anything again.

Not that you could. The moment of rest allowed to you as you laid on the ground, made the pain and exhaustion of your body much too apparent for your liking. Your legs felt like led, the numerous scratches from who-knows-where all sung in a harmony of stinging pain.

Even when you knew you couldn't run anymore, your mind frantically whirled through ideas. You tried to think of something, anything, to keep away from the Radio Demon.

At least until his shoes finally came into your view; the red accents bright against the inky darkness. They stopped right by your head, and suddenly it felt too dangerous to even think.

You found the dirt and mud of the forest floor much more appealing than having to look Alastor in the eye, so you kept your head down. Your head shrunk into the ground as the man looked down on you.

"I must admit, I hadn't expected you to run." Alastor said, still a hint of laughter in his tone. Had you looked up then, you would have seen just how much of a mess you've made of the demon. His hand pushed his red hair back from his forehead, sweat trickled down the side of his neck.

But it wasn't his unusual state of exhaustion that would have been shocking if you looked at him right now. No, what would have been surprising—what would have been unnerving— was the wild, desperate look in his glowing red eyes.

While you were scared, desperate to get away.

He was terrified, desperate to get you back.

The view of your small figure as you weaved through trees, dipping in and out of his sight had filled him with such cold, heavy dread.

Almost as much as the sight of your hand nearly meeting that of another demon's.

"Oh! But you're so filled of the unexpected today, aren't you, darling?" You could hear the spite in his tone, but you didn't dare raise your head.

You felt him step closer.

"I mean, I hadn't expected you to try to sell your soul to another demon, either." You cringed, lifting your arms over your ears as the static warped his voice terribly.

You felt a heavy weight on the back of your head. It rested there briefly, before it shoved you down further into the dirt. Your face pressed down into the mud, but you didn't dare fight back. You didn't dare move. The most reaction you allowed yourself was a small whimper of fear.

The sound fueled Alastor's rage, already barely kept under the surface of his smile. His eye twitched in annoyance. Why were you shaking? Why were you afraid?

Shouldn't you be kissing the foot on your head right now? Shouldn't you be thanking him for saving you from making a terrible mistake? A soul as unique as yours would have been wasted on a demon like that.

This ungrateful behavior, this attempt to leave him, just wouldn't do.

His foot left the back of your head, but it allowed no relief. The black tentacle wrapped around your leg swiftly yanked you up.

Your eyes widened in shock and your hands dug into the ground in an attempt to stay there. But it isn't a surprise that your flimsy resistance was easily broken through. The world soon turned into a dizzying blur of colors as you were lifted into the air. The trees floated from above and the sky was a muddy mess of leaves and roots, your arms hung limply above your head. The blood that now rushed to your head didn't help you in making much sense of what was happening.

But none of that mattered when your eyes finally met Alastor's.

As you were held up by your leg, upside down in the air, Alastor's usual wide smile looked like a snarling frown. His narrowed eyes did nothing to help the fear that quickly ate its way through you.

It was silent for a moment. Tension so thick in the air that you found it so terribly difficult to breathe.

But when he finally spoke, you thought to yourself how you actually preferred the suspenseful quiet.

"Have I not been the perfect partner?" Alastor asked. The static over his voice now eerily back to the usual amount. His tone was cheery, light, like this was just another early morning chit chat over breakfast between the two of you.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak.

The black appendage holding you up tightened, your skin already beginning to bruise. Although, it seemed that was the only indicator of Alastor's true mood, as the demon remained composed in front of you.

"Have I not given you everything you wanted?" He asked as he brought you closer to him.

When you didn't respond he brought his clawed hand up to your face.

You flinched, feeling his cold skin against yours, fearing that he'd tear right through your flesh.

But his touch was gentle. His fingers softly brushed away the mud and grime from your cheek.

"I've bought you everything you liked. I've protected you. Fed you." His voice was so soft, soothing. Like an old radio show you would have listened to while you drifted off to a restful slumber.

"I've even fucked you through your pathetic little heats." His claws dug into your skin. Blood gushed down your face, the scarlet liquid stung your eye even as you clenched it closed.

"I've spared useless, disgusting sinners on your request. I've played nice for you. I've given you everything." His hand shifted from your cheek to your neck, his grip tight, threatening.

The static over his voice once again horrid as it deafened you. His eyes, now drowned in black, narrowed into a glare at your form.

Your hands flew to your throat, pulling at Alastor's fingers. "Please, I'm sorry, Al!" You begged as you struggled. Your body flailed and squirmed as he held you above him, looking almost like a fish torn from the sea, desperate to breathe.

"Oh you're sorry?" Alastor's head titled to one side as he watched you. "That absolutely changes everything then!" He said cheerily, mockingly.

The tentacle holding you up loosened out of nowhere, sending you down into the mud for a second time that night.

You managed to keep yourself up by your arms as you greedily heaved in air back into your lungs. Your head still spun from the rush of blood, and you felt like you were about to vomit out whatever flesh Alastor made you eat earlier that day.

You felt something at your chin—Alastor's microphone it seemed—and it tilted your face towards him. Your teary eyes met his cheerful ones, and your chest tightened. It's been a long time since you've even stepped outside, but you now felt more trapped than you ever have before.

He bent down, lowering his face closer to yours as he smiled down at you.

"Since it seems like I've neglected my dear darling partner for so long that they've decided to seek attention elsewhere, I think it's best to spend some nice quality time together. Don't you think that'd be nice, sweetheart?" Alastor's voice held no threats. Promises. Only promises.

You shook your head no before he even finished talking. A desperate shaking hand reached up to him. "No, please. Al. Anywhere but the radio tower again. Please."

"Don't worry, doll. This time will a bit different." He assured.

You moved quickly, hurriedly, scrambling to your knees ready to beg at his feet. But before you could even part your lips to start, Alastor had both of you melted into shadows.

You re-materialize in the one place that haunted your dreams. The one place in Hell that truly, actually, did feel like hell to you.

Your blood felt frozen as you remained on the floor. Eyes wide in fear as you stared at the control panel.

Alastor turned his back to you, humming cheerfully, nonchalantly, as he made his way towards the main seat. "There's no need to look so alarmed," He said, you could almost hear the way his eyes rolled at your stupid expression. "We won't be having any special guests for this broadcast."

You finally tore your eyes away from the contraptions. Your gaze landing on Alastor's wide back as he slowly removed his coat. "You...you won't be torturing some poor soul?" You asked confused—and admittedly a little hopeful.

You couldn't count the horrible days he had made you sit and watch and listen as he took his sweet time tearing souls apart. How he joyously broadcasted the tortured screams for his Hell's entertainment.

Alastor's grin widened, stretched just a tad bit too far, before he turned his head to look back at you.

"Oh," Heavy static morphed his voice once more. "I didn't say that."

You didn't have time to react before his tentacles sprouted from his back, his inner shirt ripping to make way for them. They grabbed at your limbs, slithering around to get a tight hold as they pulled you to him.

A scream ripped from your throat at the sheer suddenness of it, and it made Alastor's heart leap in his chest. Oh how he loved those adorable reactions of yours.

"That is delightful! But do save your voice, dear. I do have to start us off first," He said gleefully as he turned around to fiddle with the controls.

You heart sunk. Eyes wide as the realization hit you. He wasn't going to force you to listen to someone being tortured.

"Alastor, wait—"

"Why hello, you wayward sinners! Hope everyone's having a wonderfully hellish time right now, because boy do I have quite the treat to make your evenings even better!" Alastor spoke into the mic, his eyes gone black as he held your gaze. "Yes, indeed, this one is going to be very special."

"Al, please—" You bit your lip, cutting off whatever pleas you were going to throw at him.

One of his tentacles pressed against your clothed mound as the others held you in the air. It quickly worked its way under your bottoms, ripping through it easily and exposing you to Alastor's lazy gaze.

"Don't, please. I'm so sorry, Al. I won't do it again, I promise, please." You whispered, not wanting all of Hell to hear how you begged for mercy.

"What's that, darling? I'm afraid you'll have to be a little louder for our lovely, horrid, listeners." Alastor mocked, just as the tentacle between your legs started to slide between your folds. Another made quick work of your already torn shirt.

You grit your teeth and clenched your eyes closed. Stubbornly, you refused to make a single sound from Alastor's ministrations.

But you know how this ends.

You're hardly the first soul he had broken during a broadcast.

You, of all people, knew that well.

Another one of his appendages slithered its way to your core. It teased at the entrance, pushing, testing your hole.

"I hope everyone has a lovely time!" You hear Alastor speak to his listeners, just as a scream ripped through your lips.

You weren't nearly wet enough to take him. Your walls resisted, but not enough for his strength. The black shadow pushed its way deep into you, others coiled at your legs to spread them apart. One remained by your clit, lazily flicking along.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You cried as Alastor fucked his tentacle deep into you. The harsh thrusts sending your ample chest bouncing.

Alastor didn't respond, he rarely ever does to his victims. He preferred to let the song of their anguish play uninterrupted. But he did find himself paying more attention than he usually did to the way your body reacted to him.

His gaze locked at the way his black shadow disappeared into your slick hole. How it came back to light drenched in your juices, only to push back in harsher. How your little pussy stretched wide around his tentacle to accommodate its size.

His eyes traveled further up, watching as he wrapped one tentacle around your breast and squeezed. A lovely horrified sound coming from your lips from his actions.

He watched as you sobbed, attention fully on him. Only on him. And he couldn't deny the rather unfamiliar heat the pooled in his stomach at that fact.

The tentacle at your clit moved faster, pressing down just the slightest bit more at that little bud. You tried your damndest to silence the screams from your throat, but as your mouth fell open, you could only do so much.

The coil in your gut snapped easily. Alastor tightening his hold on you as he kept your spasming form in the air for his entertainment.

Your juices flowed down his dark appendages as it kept up the pace. Tears forming in your eyes as they gave you no reprieve, no time recover.

You fight against his hold, aching to close your thighs and catch your breath but the dark shadows merely pulled them apart wider. You pulled at you arms, wanting to push away the damned things from your core but you were merely held back the same way.

"Wait, please, stop." You were barely able to form a coherent sentence. The tentacle inside you opting to curl just the right amount to hit that soft, perfect spot inside you with every thrust. That spot that Alastor knew drove you wild when he fucks you through your heat, after a lot of begging on your end, at least.

You clenched down on it, that being the only thing you could think of that you could still do to slow this down. It unsurprisingly did nothing but make you feel more of each drag and pull against your walls.

Another orgasm is stolen from you as a tentacle began to grind itself up and down your sloppy slit, drenching itself in your slick as it attempted to join the one already fucking you. Your screams broadcasted for all of Pride Ring to hear.

It doesn't stop. He doesn't stop. His dark shadows held you still, fucking into your cervix without mercy, playing with your clit, your breasts. Pulling yet another sloppy orgasm from you.

"No more," You heaved. Alastor's assault seeing no end near. "I can't. Al, please." You begged.

You craned your neck over to look back at the demon. You find his gaze no longer on you or your body, but on the papers in front of him. His script.

He was idly jotting down notes, chin rested on the palm of his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He almost looked bored, but the twitch of his ear as you called out his name showed you he was still paying you some attention.

"Alastor, please," You tried again. "I am sorry. I won't do it again. I won't leave you again." You sobbed.

The tentacle inside you pulled out to your brief relief, only for it to slam harshly, deeper back into you. It's pace at breakneck speed that even with the tight hold around your limbs, your body was moved with every push and pull.

"Oh, I'm sure you won't, darling." He finally replies to your pleas, although he didn't even glance your way. He continued correcting his notes, your sweet begging made for a wonderfully sweet background song. "Because why would you ever leave someone as generous as me?"

He ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. Your release dripped and drenched the floor of his radio tower. You begged til your throat was raw for some reprieve, for some forgiveness. But Alastor went about his way around the studio. Fixing this and that. Barely paid you any mind.

It was only when you've stopped pulling against his hold. When your legs had gone slack in the air, and your screams faded into whimpers did Alastor finally approach the control panel again.

"Wasn't that just darling! A wonderful performance, if I do say so myself," He laughed into his microphone. "I'm sure you lewd folks enjoyed yourself as much as our star of the night here, so make sure to keep an ear out for my next broadcast!"

His eyes finally land on your exhausted body. Your chest heaved with every labored breath as Alastor's tentacles finally slowly pulled out of you. A wet shlop of your juices dripping out as it did.

He slowly lowered you onto the ruined floor, and your dazed eyes locked with his.

"There will definitely be more of where that came from." He said, less of his usual cheer. His tone lower. Threatening—no, promising.

You didn't move—you couldn't move—from the floor. You simply watched as Alastor shut down his broadcast and took his time straightening out and cleaning up his work station. He was humming cheerfully, seeming to be in a much better mood than when the night had begun.

When he was finally satisfied, you watched as he walked to where you were, stopping by your feet as he smiled down at you.

"Well, you've definitely seen better days." A laugh track followed his mockery.

"I'm sorry." You heaved out. You hoped this was the end of it. You hoped he would just throw you back and lock you in his room again. Anything but stay in this wretched radio tower. "I'm yours. I won't try to run anymore."

Alastor chuckled at your response, moving to rest his cane against the wall before he reached up to his neck. He slowly loosened his bowtie and unbuttoned his shirt. "Oh I know you know that." He said waving off your words as if they didn't matter.

He lowered himself over you, his towering figure blocking out what little light you had. "But I'm afraid I need a bit of a reminder about who you belong to."

His hand made quick work of his trousers, pulling his hardened cock free.

His claws were at your waist and they pulled your limp body closer to him. Not that you offered any resistance.

"You can do one more for me can't you darling?" He wasn't really asking.

You can't. But you nod your head anyway.

He pushed into you easily. Your previous releases coated him and allowed a slicker entry.

Your back arched despite exhaustion, and Alastor drank in your pained expression. "There's a good girl. Always ready to ruin herself for her lover." You heard him say. "Don't worry, I won't make this long."

But of course that was a lie. He pulled back so slowly, revering in the way your drenched walls felt around him; how they clenched around his cock like how he saw them do around his tentacle. Then he thrusted himself back harshly into your sloppy hole, forcing what little sound you could still make out from your lips.

He fucked into you, slowly, deeply, maddeningly. Making sure you both felt each and every drag of his heavy cock.

He wasn't one to crave sex as much as most of hell, but when it was with you—his precious partner, he had to admit he didn't hate the sensations all too much. And if it meant reminding you who was in control, if it meant making you owe him, making you dependent on him, making you crave him, then it was all the more enjoyable to see you fucked out and speared on his dick.

One of his hands made its way to the back of your neck, pulling you up into his lap. He fucked up into you as your head lolled to the side, struggling to keep your body upright.

Alastor drank in your expression. Your glazed over eyes, the tear stains that smeared through the mud and blood along your cheeks, the drool dripping from your split lips. Yes, this is what you deserved for even daring to leave him. This is what you needed to be reminded on just how good a partner he is.

He wrapped a tentacle around your hips, keeping you steady as he pounded his cock into you. His free hand now moved between you, to your clit.

Your hips spasmed as he drew quick circles on the bud, but you fought the instinct to squirm away. You wouldn't leave him.

You can't leave him.

You know that now.

Alastor's grin widened when he noticed your actions. "There's a good girl." He purred again, leaning down to your neck to lick up your skin.

"Let me feel you cum on my cock now, darling. Let me feel how much you want me to fill you up." He whispered, his sweet voice right by your ear as he pressed down harder on your clit.

You whined, tears pouring from your eyes once more as he tore yet another orgasm from your weakened body.

Your fluids drenched his dick, soiling his pants as you came around him. Alastor all but tore your skin as he gripped you tight. His own pace finally picked up.

You felt him twitch inside you, before the hot feeling of his seed soothed your battered cunt.

"Tell me, would that scum have let you cum like this?" Alastor whispered in your ear. He held you tightly, his head still at the crook of your neck.

"No," You responded weakly. You felt him twitch inside you again.

You tried your hardest not to think back to the poor sinner, ripped limb from limb in a blink of an eye. Their body likely still stomped down into the mud of the forest floor.

"Would any other wretched soul be able to give you what I give you?" Alastor asked again. He playfully nipped at your ear.

"No," You responded again.

"So who do you think can treat you, treasure you, best, my dear?" He pulled back, his smug smile loomed over you as he held your chin for you to keep his gaze.

"You, Alastor. Only you can treat me this good." The words were bitter in your mouth

You hadn't sold him your soul. And he would never ask for it.

But you were his and his alone, nonetheless.

"And don't you ever forget it." He mused, pushing you back down to the floor as he began to fuck himself inside of you again. His previous release slowly pushed out with every slow thrust.

"Be still for me, darling," He whispered sweetly. "Let me have my fill of you for now."

I don't usually write smut but this request sent me haywire. Hope I didn't disappoint, anon! I loved your demented request ♪

#tw: noncon #tw: physical harm to reader #tw: forced relationship #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #smut #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #vien writes #vien answers #requests from a lovely anon #MIND THE TAGS PLEASE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD

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ohproserpine · 2 months

Text

vii. deer dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, heavy warning for violence and blood, overdose, murder, death, hunting, graphic descriptions of injuries, vox being painfully obvious, vox malfunctions (lmao L), allusion to death, valentino warning, alastor's demon form

Rocks and twigs dug into your knees as you crawled forward, the jagged edges cutting your skin as you reached Alastor's side. With trembling hands, you cradled his face against your lap.

"Alastor," you called for him, desperately clutching onto his body, trying to pull him back down to Earth and hold him there "Al, Al, please."

"What did I do? What can I do?" More tears dribbled down your cheeks as you looked down at your husband, leaning in to press tender kisses to the apples of his cheeks. You held him as tightly as you could, careful not to cause him any more pain.

"I can figure out a way to help you, I can. I know I can, baby," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. Your gaze remained locked with your husband's lifeless eyes, the world spinning around you as panic tightened its grip on your chest, making it difficult to breathe.

"Al. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

˚୨୧₊♱

You woke with a startle.

Gasping for breath, your chest heaved with each inhale, the rapid beat of your pulse slamming against your ribcage, the sound hammering in your head. Blinking repeatedly, your vision slowly adjusted to the unfamiliar sight of a ceiling painted with outrageously colorful prints. Faint traces of neon lights filtered through the thin curtains, casting erratic patterns across the room, accompanied by the distant thump of music.

A gentle knocking at the door broke through the haze, accompanied by the muted tones of a familiar voice seeping through the metal barrier.

"Dollface? Are you up?" Vox's voice, though muffled, was unmistakable as it filtered through the door.

Shakily, you pushed yourself up and sat for a while, gathering your composure. The room spun around you, the vibrant colors of the walls and lights blurring into a dizzying kaleidoscope. Eventually, with a deep breath, you pushed yourself into action, moving to open the door.

As you swung it open, Vox stood on the other side, his signature smirk etched onto his features. His mechanical eyes gleamed as they scanned you for any signs of distress or fatigue. And despite your disorientation, you straightened your posture, trying to maintain your usual demeanor in front of him.

"Good morning," Vox greeted smoothly. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

Of course, he wasn't interrupting anything. It was clear to both of you that you had just rolled out of bed. Your hair tousled in disarray, your sleepwear crumpled and creased, and your bed behind you a mess of twisted sheets and pillows.

Still, you forced a polite smile and shook your head.

"No, not at all," you replied.

"Excellent," Vox grinned, stepping a foot past your doorway. "May I come in?"

Despite the internal alarm bells ringing in your mind, you nodded, moving aside to let him in. As he passed by, you couldn't shake the feeling of being scrutinized, like prey under the gaze of a predator before the pounce.

Closing the door, you leaned against it, feeling the cool surface against your back, and turned to face Vox, attempting to hide the unease simmering within.

"What can I help you with?" you asked, keeping your tone steady.

Vox's gaze pierced yours, his mechanical eyes glinting with a hunger that unsettled you.

"I thought of how we could discuss the details of our partnership," he hummed, running his fingers along your dresser. "Over dinner, perhaps?"

The proposal hung in the air, heavy with implications you weren't sure you wanted to explore. Despite your best efforts to hide it, a seething sense of unease bubbled beneath the surface, twisting your features into a grimace.

"Dinner?" The word felt like acid on your tongue as you struggled to maintain your façade, your gaze sharpening into a glare aimed directly at the overlord. "I'm sorry, but… I'm not interested."

Vox's laughter cut through the tense atmosphere, but it sounded forced and hollow.

"I meant a professional meeting, love," he covered up with a wave of his hand, the charm in his voice slightly strained. "Let's go over your contract."

Relieved, you nodded, though beneath, a whirlwind of thoughts swirled.

This could be a chance for you to really have a gauge on your situation. Everything had happened so fast, and you found yourself stumbling in the dark. You knew the Vees were a powerhouse in the entertainment district, their influence stretching far and wide, extending into every corner of hell. They were notorious for their employment methods, for their ability to shape destinies and manipulate lives with the stroke of a pen.

Who knows what was even in your contract?

"Wonderful!" Vox's cheerful interruption jolted you from your thoughts as he extended his arm. "Well then, let's not waste any more time. Shall we?"

"Shall we what?" you spoke slowly, your tone guarded.

"Shall we get to your duties, my dear?" Vox clarified smoothly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his words laden with expectation. "Velvette is waiting."

"Oh—" you jolted. Quickly, you gathered yourself, smoothing down the wrinkles of your robe and adjusting your disheveled hair with clumsy fingers.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you reached out and linked your arm with Vox's. The overlord smirked as he led you out of the room and through the corridors, already launching into conversation about his latest product line.

A part of you found it amusing how similar he was to your husband—both of them chatterboxes who couldn't keep their mouths shut if they tried.

Nodding along to Vox's conversation, you fell into step beside him. As you two walked, it was impossible not to notice the subtle shift in demeanor among the demons and imps, who hastily cleared a path for Vox, some even bowing respectfully as you passed by.

"And here we are!"

Arriving at Velvette's office, you entered cautiously, the tension thick in the air. Models lounged around in various states of undress, their statuesque figures draped in luxurious fabrics. Their expressions ranged from curiosity to suspicion as they observed your every move. Some whispered amongst themselves in hushed tones, casting wary glances in your direction, while others maintained an aloof demeanor, their gazes piercing yet blank.

Velvette stood at the front, her figure partially obscured by the tall curtains behind her. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, swept over you with open scorn.

"Finally! Took ya long enough," Velvette scowled. "Edna, will you please go get her dressed?!"

Edna, a tall and slender imp with delicate horns curved against her head, nodded obediently before gliding over to you. With a gentle tug on your arm, she beckoned you to follow her backstage. You stumbled nervously, clutching your robe as you obeyed.

As you stepped away, Vox chuckled, waving you off with a flourish. You offered a cautious wave back before being enveloped by the heavy fabric of the curtains.

"I know what you're trying," Velvette scoffed as she tapped away on her phone, her perfectly manicured nails, painted in a glossy shade of neon pink, clacking against the screen. Vox turned to her, his expression one of exaggerated innocence.

"Whatever do you mean?" he retorted, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise.

"Oh, please don't act as if you weren't sending marionnette over there heart eyes," Velvette accused, her crimson lips forming a thin line of disapproval. "Listen, I don't care what you do with your little girl toy. Just make sure you don't get in the way of my show."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Vox hummed, taking a seat on one of the plush couches.

Velvette turned to him, surprised, her curls bouncing from the abruptness of her movement. "You're staying?"

"Of course. I'm eager to see your dazzling ideas, my dear," Vox replied smoothly, spreading his long legs across the expanse of the couch. "After all, your show is going to be featured on my channels. It's all anyone has been raving about on Voxtagram lately."

"Cut the crap. You just want an excuse to ogle at her," Velvette scoffed.

Vox leaned back against the cushions, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Can you blame me? She's quite the sight to behold."

Before Velvette could snap back, Edna returned, leading you out from behind the curtains. You emerged, feeling somewhat exposed under the scrutinizing gazes of the two overlords.

No surprise, as the main act, you were dressed in one of Velvette's main designs. Black netted stockings hugged your legs as they met the bright red stilettos that adorned your feet. A red corset cinched your waist and emphasized the curve of your hips, accentuating your figure. Below the corset, you wore a dark miniskirt with cream ruffles and lace, its fabric swaying with every step.

You felt abash as you stood in the outfit. In the past, you had been considered a flapper girl with your bold demeanor and penchant for daring fashion choices, but even you couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise at the lack of modesty of the skirt in this particular outfit. It barely grazed past your crotch, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

"Let's see…" Velvette hummed, completely absorbed in her task as she approached you, Vox long forgotten. With a couple of snaps of her fingers, the clothing and accessories you wore began to shift and change, transforming before your eyes.

Velvette's fingers danced through the air, conjuring delicate lace and cascading ruffles that stuck onto the corset. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a cream fur coat, draping it over your shoulders with a flourish. The colors morphed, the fabrics transformed, until finally, with a satisfied clap of her hands, she took a step back to admire your new look.

"Makeup!"

Suddenly, you yelped as a chair was dragged over, pushing against the back of your knees and causing you to fall right into it. A bunch of imps swarmed around you and they wasted no time in getting to work, dabbing various products onto your face and expertly brushing powder along your cheeks.

Once they were finished, they handed you a mirror, allowing you to inspect their handiwork. Unlike the outfit, the makeup look wasn't as unsettling. Your face was adorned with makeup reminiscent of classic clown makeup, featuring exaggerated lashes, a layer of white face paint, and a bold red lip.

"That's it! That's the one," Velvette grinned, delighted with the makeover. Her grin turned into a smirk as she turned to Vox. "Well, what do you think—Satan!"

Vox's screen began to glitch and buffer, emitting sparks of electricity that charred the couch beneath him. The sudden noise startled some of the models, their eyes widening in alarm as they scrambled to move away from the malfunctioning android.

"The hell is wrong with you?" Velvette shouted.

Vox tried to respond, but all that came out was static.

Concerned, you approached him, the clicking of your heels against the floor echoing.

As you settled beside Vox, there was a momentary pause in the static, and he stared at you with wide eyes, the malfunction seemingly halted by your presence.

Part of you screamed at yourself to leave, to let him handle his problems alone. But another part of you remained, despite everything. Somehow, you still felt a sliver of sympathy for the overlord.

Leaning in closer, you furrowed your brow, the red gloss on your lips catching the studio lights. The corset pushed your chest up, and Vox found his eyes shamelessly drifting.

"Are you okay?" you whispered, your voice laced with genuine worry.

But before Vox could respond, he short-circuited, a burst of sparks and smoke emitting from his malfunctioning screen. You recoiled instinctively, your hand reaching out to shield yourself from any potential danger. With a final surge of electricity, he powered down completely, leaving behind a smoldering heap of metal and wires.

"Is he… okay?"

Velvette waved a dismissive hand. "He's always doing this. Probably overloaded his circuits again."

"Now, can someone please get this thing out of here?!" she commanded, snapping her fingers and tapping her foot impatiently.

As the models and attendants hurried to comply, you were pulled back up to your feet by the overlord. "He'll reboot eventually. Now, let's get back to work."

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from Vox, you followed after Velvette as she led the way to a photo studio within the boutique.

The scene before you was akin to a circus, with vibrant hues of bright reds and pinks resembling a Valentine's Day massacre. A carousel in the background spun slowly, its eerie music echoing through the studio. Beating hearts hung suspended from the ceiling, their rhythmic pulses visible as they dripped with blood.

"Alright! Let's get the rehearsal started!" Velvette shouted out as she began to direct the crew. Cameras were adjusted, lights were fine-tuned, and the set was re-arranged to her satisfaction.

Turning to you with a tablet in hand, Velvette tossed it into your hands. You caught the device and quickly read through the document on the screen, realizing it was lyrics to a song. Your eyes rushed to memorize the words, the familiarity of the process washing over you.

Decades in the show industry had honed your skills to perfection, making this routine feel like second nature. A small pang of nostalgia tugged at your heartstrings, reminding you of simpler times before everything went amiss.

“Alright.”

Barely giving you ten minutes to prepare, Velvette deftly plucked the tablet from your hands as she stepped back and settled into a director's chair. The chair creaked softly under her weight as she made herself comfortable, slipping on heart-shaped glasses that glinted in the studio lights.

"Let's see what you've got.”

Lifting the scepter to your lips, you pressed it against your mouth, leaving a trace of red lipstick staining the surface, a stark contrast against the sleek metal. As the lights dimmed, signaling the start of your performance, you took a deep breath and began to recite the lyrics.

I write poems to burn by firelight Drink champagne and guzzle gin Good girls call me "the town bicycle" Don't knock it 'til you've tried my life of sin

With a flick of your hand, you pushed back the curls of your hair, the strands catching the studio lights as you kept your gaze glued to the camera lens. From her chair, Velvette smirked and captured the moment with her phone, the flash briefly blinding the dimly lit set.

Oh, my pimp, knows never mess with me Last prick did that faded quick to black I have no idea where to find him, officers But if you do, please mention that I'd Like to have returned the pretty knife That I stuck ten times in his back—

Before you could even finish, the door burst open with a deafening bang, causing everyone in the room to jump in surprise. Valentino stormed into the boutique, his eyes blazing with unrestrained fury. Without uttering a single word, he launched into a violent rampage, his movements wild and unpredictable.

The air was filled with the sound of crashing props and the desperate, panicked screams of assistants as they scrambled to evade Valentino's wrath. You jerked back instinctively as an arm was thrown in your direction, narrowly avoiding the chaotic fray unfolding around you.

"Damn it, Valentino! What are you doing?!" Velvette shouted over the commotion, her voice strained with anger and disbelief as she dug her fingers into her hair, her perfectly styled locks now in disarray.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" the moth demon screamed back, his voice seething with rage as he held poor Edna by her throat, his grip like a vice around her delicate neck.

"I'm airing out my frustrations!" he spat, his eyes wild with fury.

A sickening tearing sound filled the room as Valentino viciously tore Edna apart, blood splattering across the floor and staining the nearby racks of clothing.

"Fuck!" Velvette cursed under her breath. Fumbling, she retrieved her phone, her fingers tapping against the screen in agitation as she dialed Vox's number.

"My dear," the businessman's smooth voice echoed through the speakers, a calming presence amidst the storm. "What can I do for you?"

"Cut the shit. Are you functioning now?" Velvette's words were clipped, forceful, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Functioning?" The overlord's response was hesitant, his movements jerky as he twisted his head, the wires on his neck audibly cracking with a spark. "I… suppose so."

"Good, because I need you up here now!" Velvette's voice crackled with urgency. "Mothboy is wrecking my department! And I'm waiting for a certain flat-faced prince to come and help!"

Without another word, Vox nodded with a weary groan, the weight of responsibility settling heavily upon him like an oppressive cloak.

"Just another fuckin' day with Val," he scoffed bitterly, his tone tinged with resignation as he pushed himself to his feet with a mechanical whir. "Fuck my life."

In an instant, he transformed into a crackling spark of electricity, zipping up into the CCTV camera before seamlessly teleporting into another one located in Velvette's studio.

"What's going on?" Vox sighed wearily as he materialized, his voice tinged with exhaustion, hands folding behind his back as he surveyed the chaotic scene before him.

"Valentino's lost it again. And he's tearing everything apart," Velvette hissed as her hand shot up, grabbing Vox by the collar of his metallic frame.

Her nails dug into the surface, leaving faint marks as she pulled him down to her eye level. "You need to stop him before he causes any more damage!"

"Consider it done," Vox muttered, rolling his eyes before moving toward Valentino. With a firm grip, he halted the demon mid-carnage, spinning Valentino around to face him. An unsettling grin stretched across Vox's metallic features as he locked eyes with the enraged demon.

"Val! What's got you out of sorts today?"

“That piece of shit! Can you believe what he did?” Valentino snarled, his voice dripping with venom as he flung a small imp across the room, the helpless girl crashing into a clothing rack. “The ungrateful whore!”

"Uh huh, which whore are we talking about now?” Vox spoke nonchalantly as he pulled his phone out and idly scrolled through it. Before he could react, Valentino lunged forward, his claws snatching the device from Vox's grasp.

"Who else would I be talking about?!" Valentino spat, his grip tightening around the phone until it crushed in his hands. With a primal scream, he hurled the remains of the tech against a nearby wall, the impact causing the column to crack under the force of the blow.

You watched with a frown as Vox attempted to calm Valentino, but his efforts fell short against the demon's relentless anger. Despite Vox's attempts, Valentino continued to rage, his voice echoing through the room as he screamed about hotels, phone calls, and among other things you didn't bother picking up.

“Fuck. Alright, he's not calming down anytime soon,” Velvette scoffed, rolling her eyes. She turned to you and motioned for you to follow as she began storming out. “Come on."

Quickly, you nodded, falling into step behind Velvette as she navigated through the gory scene. Blood stained the bottom of your heels as you stepped past limbs and puddles of blood, bones cracked underfoot, and muscles squished beneath your weight. The overpowering scent of iron filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of fear.

The overlord guided you out of the room and towards the other side of the building, where a door adorned with your name on a golden plaque awaited.

"This is your dressing room. We'll have another shoot in a few hours, so get yourself prepped in here while I go take care of the piss baby," Velvette scowled, already busying herself with her phone again.

"Will do," you sighed, running a hand through your hair, grateful for the moment of rest.

"Good. I'll see you then," Velvette declared with dramatic flair, her vibrant curls swirling around her face as she turned on her heels and walked away, leaving a trail of her perfume lingering in the air.

As you were about to step into your dressing room, the door beside you suddenly swung open with a creak, revealing a slice of the pink-filled bedroom beyond. To your surprise, you were met with the familiar sight of a fluff of white hair. An accented voice filled the air, screaming into a phone, the sound echoing down the corridor.

"I told ya, I didn't mean to—," The demon turned to you and froze, his eyes widening as he dropped his cigar in shock. The carpet beneath your feet caught fire from the dropped cigar, but neither of you seemed to care.

He stared at you, wide-eyed.

Hands flying up to your mouth, you stared back.

For a minute, all you could hear was the muted sounds of Valentino's screaming from the phone speaker and the building's hustle and bustle

"Dollface?" Angel Dust finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper as he blinked dumbfounded. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Your heart dropped like a heavy stone, sinking into the depths of your chest. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you stood there.

Everything was becoming too much to even process. Your body betrayed you as you lost your balance, collapsing and hitting the floor. A high-pitched ringing pierced your ears, drowning out all other sounds, as warmth seeped from them.

"Aw, shit," Angel Dust hissed in panic. Without hesitation, he reached out and pulled you into his arms, dragging you into his room, the door closing behind you with a soft click.

Ending the call, he tossed his phone away and guided you to a plush couch, the fabric soft and inviting beneath your touch as you sank into its embrace. Angel Dust settled beside you, his presence comforting like a warm blanket on a cold night. He offered you a sympathetic smile, though slightly awkward, his eyes filled with understanding.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured soothingly, his words a gentle caress to your troubled soul.

Opening his arms wide, Angel offered you a hug, and you leaned into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his arms as he enveloped you in a comforting hug. Slowly, your senses came together as you nestled against him, the gentle rhythm of his breathing calming the storm of emotions raging within you.

"It's gonna be alright," he whispered softly, his voice a comforting murmur. Moving closer, he wiped away the warm liquid seeping from your ears. You could faintly see his hands moving away, stained with red. "You alright? What happened, mama?"

"A lot," you sighed, raising a hand to massage your temple as you recounted the events of the past 24 hours, from Mimzy's lounge getting busted down to your soul exchange with Vox.

Angel listened intently as you recounted the events, his expression shifting from concern to disbelief as he processed the gravity of what you had experienced.

"Damn, you've been through hell twice. You're one tough cookie, mama," Angel said with a warm smile as he reached for a brush on his vanity and gently ran it through your messed-up hair.

Despite the heaviness of the situation, a hint of laughter escaped you.

"You could say that," you sniffed, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you let out a long-held sigh. "It's been a while since I've been able to let it all out like this. Most demons aren't exactly the nicest."

Angel Dust chuckled with a shrug, his hands gentle as he worked through the knots in your hair. "Yeah, I've… ah, been tryn'a to stay 'good' for a while now. Charlie's been real pushy with the redemption thing, and I thought, what the hell, why not?"

Suddenly, he paused his brushing and gawked at you, his eyes widening in realization. "Charlie! The hotel!"

Your heart skipped a beat as Angel Dust's words sank in. "The hotel," you echoed, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place in your mind.

"Shit!" Angel laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, there ya go! I get off shift tonight, and I sure as hell can get my ass over there. Hell, I can leave right this instant if you want!"

"Won't Valentino be pissed?" you asked, a flicker of concern crossing your features. "You'll be—" Your gaze darted over to his discarded phone on the floor, which was buzzing with calls. "Well, already are in deep shit."

Angel Dust frowned, his expression hardening with resolve. He grabbed your coat and swiftly removed it, tossing it aside to cover the buzzing phone. "Fuck 'im. He can bark all he wants in the studio, but outside of it, he's got no power over me."

The spider leaned in, his touch as gentle as a soft breeze against your skin, his fingers delicate as they brushed a stray hair from your face. "I'll help you. So don't get your pretty little tits in a twist anymore, alright?"

With a heavy heart, you whispered your gratitude, bowing your head as tears continued to stream down your cheeks. Today had been bleak, but a glimmer of hope lingered for a brighter tomorrow.

"But I don't want to get you in trouble, Angel," you said softly, wiping away your tears, exhaustion washing over you. "I can wait until tonight."

Angel Dust's expression softened, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Nah, babe, ain't no trouble for me. Besides, waiting ain't my style, and I ain't about to let you deal with this mess alone."

"Plus," Angel grinned devilishly, his eyes sparkling with mischief, the corners of his lips curling up. "I know your man is going to tear shit down. And I want front row seats to all that drama."

˚୨୧₊♱

"NO!"

Charlie shrieked, her voice piercing the air as she lunged forward, her fingers grasping desperately at Alastor's piece on the gameboard. "Al! You can't just do whatever you want! You have to follow the rules!"

Alastor leaned back in his chair, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he regarded Charlie with amusement. "But my dear, where's the entertainment in that?" he purred as he tilted his head in mock innocence. "Rules are made to be broken, after all. So, I had a little fun with it."

"A little fun?" Vaggie scoffed from her spot on the floor, her brows furrowed in frustration as she idly shuffled the cards.

"Yeah, thanks a lot, dickhead," she muttered, her voice laced with irritation. "That's what you've been doing these past 2 hours. If you don't start playing properly, might as well not play. I mean—why did you even bother?"

"For the entertainment!" Alastor cheered, his grin widening as he rolled the dice once the turn landed on him again. With a flourish of his claws, he moved his piece three spaces, landing on an unclaimed building which he quickly purchased. "I came here because I love seeing you wayward souls struggle to accomplish something great, and fail spectacularly!"

Vaggie scoffed and rolled the dice, her hand deftly moving the piece along the board with a flick of her wrist. However, her expression soured noticeably when the piece landed on the Jail panel. She seethed and sank back, silently cursing her streak of horrible luck.

"Ah, like you are doing now!" Alastor smirked down at her like the asshole he was, punctuating his words with a clap of his hand. "Good job!"

Vaggie clenched her jaw tightly, her knuckles whitening as she lifted the board, readying herself to strike Alastor. However, before she could make her move, the door burst open, and Angel Dust rushed in with a gasp. He looked every bit disheveled, as if he had just run through all nine circles of hell.

Charlie's eyes lit up at the sight of him, and she lifted her hand, waving him over excitedly.

"Angel! Perfect timing. We need one more player for Monopurgatory," she exclaimed, gesturing excitedly towards the game board. With a gleeful expression, she plucked a piece from the board and held up a small metal figurine with a wide smile. "You can be the cupcake~!"

"Sorry, princess, I've got business," Angel huffed, brushing his hair back as he turned to Alastor. "Alright, freaks. We need to talk."

Alastor hummed, studying Angel with mild amusement. "My, my, such urgency," he remarked, his smile widening into a grin. "What's got you in such a hurry?"

"It's about Vox," Angel replied, pressing his hands flat against each other. "I need to speak with you in private."

Alastor's grin faded slightly, and he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing at Angel. Well, this was certainly getting very entertaining.

After a moment of contemplation, Alastor shook his head, snapping himself out of whatever daze he had briefly fallen into.

"Vox, you say?" Alastor mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. With a nonchalant shrug, he pushed himself up, twirling his cane in the air. "Oh, well, in that case, let's chat."

With a flick of his wrist, Alastor moved forward and gestured towards the door, indicating for Angel to follow him. Charlie and Vaggie exchanged puzzled glances, but they remained silent, watching as both men left the room.

"You know, I'd usually never even think of entertaining you, and I'd rather let you deal with your own issues. But you seem to be in a great deal of suffering!” Alastor laughed heartily as he shut the door.

"So, pray tell, what happened? Did you get yourself entangled in another deal from a whim decision? My! I certainly hope you don't bring any of this into the hotel. What will the papers say?"

Angel rolled his eyes and cut Alastor's rambling short, jabbing a gloved finger into the Radio Demon's chest. "It ain't about me. And you're gonna want to listen because it's your missus that's in deep shit right now."

Alastor's eye twitched at the mention of you, a brief flicker of static and symbols dancing in the air. His crimson eyes bore into Angel Dust, his expression unreadable, save for the wide curl of his lips.

Inwardly, Angel smirked. If he didn't have Alastor's attention before, he sure as fuck had it now.

"What does my wife have to do with this?" Alastor quipped sharply, his claws delicately removing Angel Dust's finger from his chest. "I fail to see the connection. Do enlighten me."

"Wanna be enlightened?" Angel waved him over, "Then follow me."

Without waiting for a response, Angel turned on his heels and strode out of the hotel. Alastor followed closely behind, his red-clad figure cutting through the streets of hell like fire against the night.

A few streets later, they approached the border edge of the entertainment district, and Alastor halted abruptly, his gaze narrowing in suspicion.

"I don't particularly fancy this area, and I'd rather not enter," he scoffed, adjusting his coat and brushing away dust from his sleeves with a disdainful flick. "It's rather unsavory."

"Just look," Angel rolled his eyes, gesturing upwards towards the towering Vee tower, where a new advertisement had just been erected.

Alastor's gaze shifted upward, and he froze as he beheld your face plastered across the billboard, larger than life, dominating the skyline of the entertainment district. The vibrant colors of the advertisement clashed with the dark hues of the surrounding buildings, drawing attention like a beacon in the night. Beneath the image, in bold letters, was a sign that read: "Sponsored by VoxTek," stark against the backdrop of your image.

There was silence for a minute, then another, before a sharp crack split the air.

"Angel?" Alastor's chipper voice rang out as he stared up at the billboard with a manic grin. Crackling began to be heard as his limbs lengthened, each movement accompanied by the sound of bones shifting and sinewy muscles stretching beneath his ashen flesh.

"Would you be so kind as to…" His antlers began to grow in size, curling and twisting like the branches of a gnarled tree.

"—explain…" His eyes darkened, the whites turning to a deep, swirling black, while the pupils glowed with a golden light, resembling the flickering dials of an old radio.

"—what exactly am I looking at right now?" His hands elongated into grotesque claws, the fingers stretching and sharpening into razor-sharp blades capable of ripping flesh—or in this case, wires—with ease. As his claws extended, they stretched his glove to its limit until it tore right off, revealing the glint of his wedding ring.

"Vox got her soul," Angel replied immediately, his voice steady despite the horrifying sight in front of him. "Screens has her wrapped around his finger, and he's not planning to let go anytime soon."

Alastor's head snapped to the side with a sickening crack accompanying the movement.

"Show me," he snarled, his voice taking on an inhuman quality, heavily filtered by radio waves.

Without hesitation, Angel gestured towards the billboard, his expression blank.

"Get in there, and see for ya'self."

˚୨୧₊♱

#im sorry for the shitty filler chapter :(( this was for the pacing and so i can prepare yall for the next chapter #sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel velvette

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ilycosy · 2 months

Text

❝ YOU FREE 2NIGHT ? ❞ | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing : luke castellan x reader

summary — it's a cold february morning, nothing special to you, really. but there's that sickening air around camp that has everyone in a trance, you'll escape it this year again of course. or will you?

warnings : reader is a hater , luke is a helpless romantic loser , they're both awkward teenagers but it's so cute , percabeth !!!

aﾉn — a valentines day fic !! 🤍 i hope u guys enjoy <33 i rlly like writing luke as a loser but i think u guys alr know that sjshak

you woke to hushed giggles in the cabin, an aphrodite boy perched up on one of your half brothers. basically eating each other's faces before anyone wakes up to see them, you roll your eyes.

listen, you weren't entirely against romance. just all the bits where you have to share yourself with your 'special person', especially in public. pda was your own personal tartarus, you were sure of it.

which is why it was shocking to receive a stupid note during breakfast from luke asking if you're free tonight, misspelled might you add. and even though you found it stupid, you couldn't help but wonder why he would even bother with you.

you— the person who once told him that he had the face of a sloth, the person who shoved him into the lake just because you could, the person who told him to 'get over' hermes when he came to camp. really, you couldn't think of any reason he'd ever like you.

but with how he smiled eagerly when you opened the note, and how he waved and did a thumbs up when you read it. you ditched the unsure thoughts of him just lying to you. you weren't free anymore.

you circled the no answer box, slipping the note back to him when your cabin was called for the offerings. trying not to look at him when he got cheesy and had percy come over to tell you to meet luke at a spot.

"luke said he wants you to meet him at," percy looks down at his hand, like he's reading from a fake script. "the place you poured juice onto his head? he's speaking in riddles to me, man."

you almost smiled at percy's sarcastic tone, but instead, you rolled your eyes and took a bite of your food. "tell him ill be there at 7." you say, turning your full attention to your food after.

you think you hear percy say, 'aye aye captain.' but you can't really be sure. you're too busy wondering how you're going to keep your food down with how your stomachs churning just thinking about what will happen.

well, turns out— 7 will come a lot sooner when you're stressing about what will happen at that time, the movies lied to you!

you sit anxiously at a clearing in the forest, looking around as you remember how you had dumped apple juice onto lukes head when you both were 15. you claimed it was to cool him down, but really, it was because he had called you pretty.

twigs snap behind you, and when you snap your head around, you're greeted with cupcakes?

"hey," luke greets, calmly sitting next to you like this was a casual hangout. "you hungry?" he asks, but he's a little nervous. his voice strained and his face a little red as he holds out sloppy cupcakes, clearly done by him and younger campers.

the cupcakes are messy, but they smell delicious. you almost grab one before reading what is spelt out on them, 'kiss me?'

you can't help but laugh, giggling to yourself as you hover over the k cupcake. "man i knew it was silly," he groans, setting the platter in his lap as he looks away embarrassedly. "i knew you hated pda, so i did it away from others but i shouldn't have listened to annabeth with the cupcakes it's just she said percy did it and she loved it and–"

you pressed a finger to his lips, picking up the cupcake you wanted. taking a slow bite as you savor it, thinking about his rant while he stares at you with wide eyes. you ignore how you swear both your hearts are beating in sync.

"it's sweet," you say, not knowing if you're talking about the cupcake or his confession. "it's not silly." it comes out before you can even think about what you're saying, you're talking about the confession?

it shocks both of you clearly. "you're sure?" he asks hesitantly, drumming his fingers on the platter. "i had help from demeter kids with the cooking, so i hope it's good, but are you sure that it's not stupid you don't have to call it sweet i get—"

you press your lips to his hesitantly, unsure of what you're doing, but honestly, he needed to shut up. he sits stiffly with the cupcakes on him, his hands coming up to pull you closer. you both awkwardly avoid dropping any while you kiss, teeth clashing together a few times.

when you both pull away you can't help but laugh, his dazed and blushing face so close to yours that he can smell the sugar and dinner on your breath. he starts laughing too, leaning his forehead on yours.

"im not free tonight," you whisper, watching as he looks at you confusedly. the angle is a little silly to look at him from, but for some reason your heart beats harder in your ears. "i think im taken."

his confused face splits into a stupid grin, pressing another kiss against your mouth before he lifts up the question mark cupcake. "by me?" he asks, cheesily but you can't imagine it being any other way.

"yes," you roll your eyes but your voice is soft, and he thinks his heart will explode in his chest. "by you."

#cosywriting #castellanswrld #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan smut #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic

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coryosbaby · 4 months

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Alternative Payment <3

♡ content warning! Mdni, 18+ , innocent! Reader, manipulation, dark! Coryo

The guards of the cage are too easy to impress. As Coriolanus zig zags his way to the exhibit, he catches sight of you at the farthest corner. Your back is against a nearby rock, your eyes wide open unlike the other Victors. When you see him, you scramble to the bars. He smirks, watching your doe eyes look up at him through fluttering lashes.

“Did you bring food?” You ask your mentor desperately. Coriolanus nods, reaching into his bag to pull out a bottle of water and a sandwich made of wheat bread and ham. You take it, and begin to nibble on the sandwich eagerly. Coriolanus watches with something quite unclear in his gaze.

“Have they fed you at all?” He asks.

You shake your head, wiping bread crumbs off the corner of your plump lips.

“No. They didn’t give us water, either,” you explain, and begin to open the bottle that was graciously gifted to you. “Thank you, Coryo!”

Oh, so sweet. A girl with manners. Coryo looks back at the other victors. They’re all heavy sleepers.

When you finish up the sandwich, you chug the rest of the water down and hand the empty bottle back to him. He puts it back into his bag. You wipe your mouth, looking up at him with an almost happy grin on your face.

So innocent.

“Mmm..” Coryo takes in the sight of your pretty face, caked in dirt and twigs and god knows what else, and something twitches in his pants. “Got you something else, too. For my favorite victor.”

“Really?” Your eyes shine with curiosity. “What is it?”

Coryo chuckles. His fingers reach through the bars and smooth back your hair.

“Close your eyes.”

Your brows furrow, but you obey. As your lids flutter shut, you hear the sound of something clacking together.

“If you’re good and do what I say,” Coryo continues. “Then I’ll give you something else to eat. Okay?”

“Okay..” you say innocently, the grumbling of your tummy ever so prominent.

You jump. Something wet and warm touches your lips, and you hear Coryo let out a shaky sigh.

“Open up,” he breathes. “And don’t bite.”

Confusion riddles your face, but you obey simultaneously. The thought of food is heavy on your mind.

When the mysterious, meaty thing slides onto your tongue, your taste buds explode with something musky and salty. You hear coryo let out a whine, and the thing moves farther to the back of your throat. Your tongue brushes over it curiously, and Coryo lets out the loudest moan. Fear courses through you at the thought of the other victors waking up and seeing that your mentor is giving you something extra, but you swallow it down— sort of like the way you swallow down this mysterious wet thing in your mouth.

“God,” Coryo heaves. “Such a pretty little face.”

The thing in your mouth moves out, then back in again roughly. You let out a gag, your eyes welling with tears. You lave over the tip of the thing when it’s pulled back out onto your tongue again. Something slaps against your chin each time that it presses flush against your lips.

“Fuck,” Coryo says from above you. “Open those eyes f’me. Cmon, don’t you wanna see your present?”

You do want to see what’s inside your mouth, so with fluttering eyelids you obey.

It’s hard to see at first. You vision blurs, then clears. Coryo is above you, as you can see through the bars.And the thing in your mouth is…

Attached to him?

Okay, so you know basic anatomy. You know what it is— only, you don’t know exactly what it’s used for. Your eyes widen, seeing the look of bliss on his handsome face, the way his big hands grip each side of the prison bars like his life depends on it. He’s thrusting his hips into your mouth— that thing, a cock, as you heard the boys in your district call it, is slamming against your throat at a rapid pace. Looking up, Coryo’s eyes connect to yours and he laughs. It’s unsettling, a tiny giggle in the back of his throat, and you can’t help but feel something. Tingling, perhaps. In the same spot on you that Coryo’s cock is connected to.

“Suck it like a lollipop.”

Coryo’s words make you mewl, the remembrance of sugary sweets making your stomach swirl.

“Oh, honey,” Coryo continues, as you begin to lave over his aching cockhead. “Y’want one of those, don’t you? I’ll give you one, a special little treat. Tomorrow, before the games.”

You want to cry, just from the thought of a cherry flavored lollipop. You suckle him, just like the boy had asked, desperate to please him and get your stomach full. It isn’t long before his hips are stuttering, abs tensing, and his mouth is letting out quiet degradations.

“Dirty girl. Yeah, ‘m gonna cum. Gonna fill up that little tummy, baby.”

He demands that you pull off, let him move his hand up and down his shaft while your tongue lolls out. When his cum hits your taste buds, you let out a whimper. Not that good tasting, but not bad, either. However, the spot in between your legs begins to tingle more— and hurt. God, it hurts, and you can’t stop squirming to try and get relief. Looking back, you pray that no one had saw your endeavor with your handsome mentor.

When he tucks himself back into his pants, you’re still waiting impatiently.

“Sir?” You question Coryo softly. “Can I have something else to eat, now?”

Another unsettling giggle.

“Silly girl,” he says. “You already did.”

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serpentandlily · 1 month

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Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny IV

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny IV - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: a lil bit of angst, a lil bit of fluff, a lil bit of suggestion

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

To say he was panicking would be an understatement.

No, Eris had felt panicked when he had opened the door to his chambers and realized his mate was not there. But that panic turned to full-fledged terror when he had finally tracked down the two handmaidens he'd assigned her this morning and they both said they had no idea where his mate was.

He stalked through the Forest Home---trying to appear calm and nonchalant despite what he felt. He didn't want anyone to catch wind of something being amiss. Not before he was able to find his mate and safely get her back to his chambers. Lucky for him, he'd been forced to wear a mask his whole life and this was no different.

A bark from behind caused him to whirl around. Ashera came running from around the corner, ears flapping and tail wagging. That had to be a good sign. She yipped again when she caught up to him and gripped the edge of his cuff in her sharp teeth.

"Did you find her, Ash?" Eris asked, quietly.

He was answered with a pull of her teeth. His shoulders loosened with relief and he let Ashera guide him to wherever it was that she had found his mate. He had given Ashera the order to find her the minute he realized she was missing and had gone the opposite way of her to cover more ground.

A few moments later, he found himself in front of the doors to the library. Ashera let go of him and started to paw at the doors with a whine. He could hear two voices from behind the doors. His mate's and....

He grabbed both handles and yanked open the double doors, stalking inside.

"And do you want to know what I said—" His brother, Finnegan, abruptly cut off his sentence when the sound of the doors slamming shut behind Eris and Ashera caught his attention. He looked up, smirking when he caught sight of his frazzled brother.

Seated in front of his brother, a chessboard on the table between them, was his mate. She turned in her chair, eyes wide as she looked over with surprise until she recognized who was there. A soft smile bloomed on her beautiful face, her doe eyes lighting up.

No one had ever looked at him like that when he entered rooms. Not even his own mother. No, he was usually met with either fear or disdain. But not from his mate... She should've been staring at him with disgust or contempt, especially after how he had treated her yesterday and especially after their argument this morning when he forbade her from leaving his room. Instead, she seemed happy to see him.

Was she putting on a front for his brother?

"Eris!" she exclaimed, rising from her seat. "You're back. Oh, you won't believe the day I've had! Finn found me wandering around and—"

"Come here," Eris ordered, cutting her off. He held out his hand towards her. His brother's smirk grew as Eris glowered at him. His mate’s eyebrows rose in question but she thankfully listened to him, walking to his side and grasping his hand in her much smaller, much softer one.

Ashera let out an excited yip and brushed up against her legs, causing his mate to smile down at her. Honestly, he should've known she was his mate the minute his hounds hadn't torn into her when she first appeared in Autumn that day. Should've known the second Ashera had pranced forward and tried to comfort her, for Gods' sake. His dogs were prime hunters, yet around her, they were reduced to nothing more than fluffy house pets it seemed.

He remembered seeing her for the first time, her leg stuck in that bear trap. Despite the tears running down her face and her hair tangled with leaves and twigs, she was the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. So soft and delicate. The opposite of everything he was.

But the mating bond hadn’t truly snapped until the shadowsinger had shown up in the clearing that day and whisked her into his arms. She had looked straight at him and a golden thread had unwoven in his chest, causing him to stagger back just as they disappeared in a swirl of shadows. It had taken all of his will power not to immediately storm the Night Court if only to see her for a second more.

“Can I not have her for a few more minutes, brother?” Finn asked, tossing his arms behind his head and resting his head against them with a smug grin. “We’re nearly finished with our game.”

Eris sneered at his brother. “If I see you sniffing around her again, I’ll rip out your throat.”

“Eris!” His mate exclaimed, looking up at him with wide eyes. He ignored her, still glaring daggers at his brother who didn’t even flinch at the threat.

“You’re lucky I stumbled upon her before father did,” Finn crooned. “I’d say you owe me one for allowing her the pleasure of my company.”

“Well, consider me not ending you where you stand your one and only favor,” Eris retorted. His mate went to pull her hand from his but he gripped her tighter, finally looking down at her. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

He stalked towards the library door, pulling her with him despite her soft protests. He didn’t say a word to her as he led her back to his chambers, not wanting any servants milling about to gossip if they heard anything. He only released her hand once they were safely in the living area of his quarters and behind the heavy wards set up.

“Are you out of your mind?” She hissed at him, holding her hand to her chest.

“Are you?” He bit back, flicking his hair out of his face. “I gave your strict orders to stay here while I was gone or with your handmaidens!”

“I am not something you can just keep under lock and key!”

“You’re not in the Night Court anymore, bunny,” Eris argued. “My father is nothing like Rhysand. The males outside these doors are nothing like those two wretched Illyrians. I can have you chained to my bed and no one would bat an eye, do you understand?”

“And is that what you’ll do if I don’t listen to you?” She retorted, crossing her arms. “Put me in chains?”

“No,” he snapped. “But I will lock you in here if I must. I’d rather you hate me than let anything happen to you.”

“Then take me out with you,” she protested. “Don’t leave me here!”

Eris let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking down at his irritating, foolish, and completely and utterly bewitching mate. Her large eyes were hopeful, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth. The mating bond was driving him absolutely wild. He wanted to shove her against the wall and rip that lip out of her teeth with his own.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Fine,” he growled. “But if I agree to take you out tomorrow afternoon, you will agree to stay inside my chambers unless otherwise instructed. Do you understand?”

Those sweet, alluring eyes turned callous in a matter of seconds.

“So, you intend to treat me like a dog? Like a pet?” she snapped, crossing her arms. “Actually, I take that back. You even treat your dogs better than that!”

As if proving her point, Ashera jumped up on the couch, laid down and covered her face with her paw, as if she felt his mate’s exasperation.

“Have you any idea what is at stake here?” he bit back. “I do not intend to treat you like a pet. I intend to keep you safe!”

“And you think by keeping me locked away, I’ll be safe? They all know where your chambers are, Eris. I’m no safer here than I am anywhere else in this manor!”

“At least, I’ll know where you are! Do you have any idea how worried I was when I went to find you earlier and you weren’t here?”

Her eyes widened and her arms fell limp at her sides. “You… you were worried?”

Eris tossed his arms in the air, letting out a noise of frustration. “Of course, I was worried. Do you know how many enemies I have in this court? Do you know how many people would wish to harm you if they had the chance just to hurt me?”

“I thought…” She paused, rubbing her arm.

Eris glared down at her. “You thought what? Go on, bunny, tell me what that little mind of yours thought?”

“I thought you were mad! And can you blame me?” she huffed up at him. “You treat me like a nuisance, insult me any chance you get! Why the hell would I ever think you were worried about me? I’m sure you’d just be so over the moon if someone did get rid of me! Since I’m such a burden.”

There were a lot of things in life Eris regretted but calling his mate a burden this morning was now on the top of that list. He hadn’t meant it. Of course, he hadn’t. She just didn’t understand the severity of the situation. He didn’t want to be mean to her or to have her hate him… but if it kept her safe, then so be it. At least, that had been his train of thought. But seeing the hurt on her face when those words had come out of his mouth had nearly killed him.

“I’m sorry, okay,” Eris groaned. “I’m sorry I called you that. It’s not true. It was never true but bunny…you really don’t understand…”

“No, Eris, I do,” she snarled. “I’m not as stupid or naive as everyone likes to think I am!”

“Not naive?” Eris mocked. “Then what do you call galavanting around the Forest House with one of my own brothers?”

“Your brother was fine,” his mate replied. “He was perfectly polite. All he did was show me around a bit and then take me to the library as I requested.”

Eris scoffed. “You don’t know him like I do.”

“You know what’s funny? That is the exact thing my sisters would say about me and yet they have no idea who I am. They’ve never let me be anything other than the girl they think I am. Have you thought that perhaps this competition your father has you all so convinced of between you guys doesn’t even exist? Have you ever even tried talking to one another without your father’s influence?”

She wasn’t wrong but Eris knew how deep his father had his claws in his brothers. It would take a lot to shake them from his grasp. Time and effort he wasn’t afforded with at the moment. Not when he constantly had to look over his shoulder and now had to keep his mate safe at all times. This court was corrupt and dangerous—everyone here was in survival mode.

These hypotheticals might be worth a discussion and if it were up to him, he would’ve taken his mother and younger brothers far away from his father a long time ago. But alas, he did not have such power…yet. But perhaps things could change. Though, nothing would so long as his father still sat on the Autumn throne. Until then, these sorts of conversations were not worth the time.

“You speak on things you have no knowledge about and I see little point in having this conversation with you,” Eris said, straightening out his lapels. “I have a meeting I must attend with my father. Stay here.”

And then he left swiftly, before his mate could see just how much her words affected him, before he grabbed her and winnowed as far from this court as he could—consequences be damned. She drove him absolutely mad but Gods, did he find her so enticing. She was wild and impulsive and had a lot to learn, but the sort of honesty and hopeful outlook she had…Well he could only hope he could protect that, hoped he could keep her sweet and kind and soft and all the things no one had ever allowed him to be.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You had just woken up when your two handmaidens, Willow and Ivy, entered the room, pestering you to get up. Bleary eyed, you let them drag you into the bath before they sat you in front of the vanity. Ivy braided your hair while Willow dusted some light makeup on your face.

“Can I ask what you are prepping me for?”

“Lord Eris has requested that we get you ready for an afternoon trek on horseback,” Ivy answered, with a slight smile on her face.

Your eyes widened, taken aback. You hadn’t spoken to Eris since your fight yesterday. In fact, he had never even returned to his chambers last night. You didn’t try to leave, in fear that you would find the door locked and all your worries of the kind of male you were mated to would be proven true. Instead, you had pretended that a night in was just what you wanted, begrudgingly following his command.

They dressed you in an off the shoulder linen chemise and flowy skirt that fell to your shins before lacing you into a burnt orange corset that had your lungs screaming for air. They slipped a pair of brown leather boots onto your feet.

“Surely trousers would be more appropriate?” you asked, spinning around so your skirt swished around the tops of your boots. Ivy and Willow gasped at your words, placing a hand over their hearts.

“A lady should never be seen in trousers,” Ivy declared, aghast.

Their shock was humorous to you, so you bit your lip to keep from laughing. Gods, the Autumn Court was so backwards sometimes. You were getting better at choosing your battles, so you said nothing else as they led you out of Eris’s chambers to the horse stables.

Eris stood there next to another male who was preparing two horses. Your mouth dried a bit at the sight of him. He was wearing a loosely tied tunic, tucked into brown breeches and a pair of riding boots. His red hair glimmered in the sun like a ruby gem, his pale skin nearly glowing. He looked as if the Autumn forest made him itself.

You hadn’t realized you had paused in your steps until your two handmaidens giggled next to you.

“You are a very lucky female, Lady Y/n,” Ivy whispered to you with another giggle, causing your cheeks to turn pink.

“Lord Eris is a very lucky male to have someone as lovely as Lady Y/n as his mate,” Willow countered, which only made your blush deepen.

Eris noticed you as you drew closer and his eyes trailed over your form, heat swirling in them. You felt goosebumps rise on your skin under his gaze. His fox-like face was so beautiful, so enchanting, it was hard to look away. You kept eye contact with him as your handmaidens presented you.

“Lady Archeron, as you requested, my Lord,” Willow said as she curtsied.

“Thank you, ladies, you may continue on with the rest of your duties,” he said to them, though he didn’t stop looking at you which caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. The two girls sauntered off, their giggles heard until they rounded the corner.

You wanted to be mad at him still, but this seemed like a sort of peace offering or apology for yesterday. One that you decided to accept. You walked forward until you were at his side, glancing at the large horses.

“This is Marigold. She is our most well-mannered horse,” Eris said. “Go on, you can pet her. She won’t bite.”

“I’ve never ridden a horse, my Lord,” you said, shyly, reaching out a hand to pet the one in front of you.

Eris seemed surprised but made no comment on it. He simply turned to the stableboy and waved a hand at him. “One horse will do today, Landon.”

“Oh, are you going to teach—”

You squeaked as Eris grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you onto the horse as if you weighed nothing, your cheeks turning bright red. A moment later, he lifted himself onto the horse, right behind you. The butterflies in your stomach were worked into a frenzy as his long legs encompassed you and your back was pressed against his firm chest.

“Yes, bunny, I’m going to teach you,” Eris whispered, his breath dancing along the edge of your pointed ear. You could hear the smirk in his voice, as if he knew exactly the kind of reaction he was causing inside of you.

“Is this not improper?” you asked. “Aren’t ladies supposed to sit with both their legs on one side?”

It had been a hard transition for you—to go from living in poverty in that tiny cottage to living in high society. You weren’t like your other sisters who had spent their childhood years being trained to be ladies. You could hardly remember any part of your life before your mother died.

It was, perhaps, why you felt the closet to Feyre of all your sisters. Because she, too, was wild in a way that Elain and Nesta weren’t.

“Something tells me you have no concern over how ladylike you are, bunny,” Eris chuckled, his hard chest rumbling against your back. Your cheeks flared up again and you tossed him a glare over your shoulder.

“Everyone else seems so concerned about my virtue and image,” you hissed.

“Well, I’m not,” Eris retorted. “Go on, grab the reins.”

You hesitantly wrapped your fingers around the leather straps and nearly jolted in surprise as Eris’s placed his calloused hands on top of yours. He started to maneuver your fingers. “You want to keep your thumbs on top and your fingers closed around them.”

Once he seemed satisfied, he tapped the horse on the side and she began her trot. You bit your lip as his hands slid off the reins and on to your thighs. “Relax your legs, bunny. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall off.”

You hadn’t realized how much you were squeezing the poor horse until he lightly stroked your thighs, getting them to loosen before his hands slid to your waist instead.

"What do I do with these?” You asked, nodding towards the reins in your hands.

“Nothing for now,” Eris answered. “You use them to steer or to get her to stop.”

His proximity to you and the tiny circles he absentmindedly rubbed on your waist with his thumbs caused your body to hyperfocus on all the places you were touching. You could hardly pay attention to his instructions and the more the two of you continued on, the more you found yourself relaxing into his chest—soaking in the heat that seemed to exude off his body.

Once you seemed to get the hang on the basics, a soft silence fell between the two of you. The sounds of the forest came alive the deeper you traveled into the trees. It was truly beautiful out here. The red and orange leaves on the trees reminded you of the painting Feyre had done on your drawer on the dresser back when you were living in the cottage.

“I’m sorry,” Eris whispered into your ear, breaking the silence and surprising you. “For yesterday.”

You softened at his words. “It’s okay.”

“No,” he said, his grip on your waist tightening. “It wasn’t okay. It pained me to hear you say I think of you as a nuisance, as something to get rid of. It is simply not true, bunny and I’m sorry for ever making you believe I think that.”

Eris didn’t seem like the type of male to apologize for his actions, so it meant more to hear it from him.

“I just wish you would stop trying to push me away. I’m tired of everyone always deciding what's best for me instead of trusting me to know it myself,” you sighed.

“I know and I’m sorry. I know how unseen you feel.”

He seemed to see right through you. Was it the mating bond that allowed such a thing? Or was it just something you had in common? No one had ever looked closely at you. You were the baby of the family, never allowed to be involved in decisions or important things. You lived in your own world most of the time.

Although Eris was brought up in a far different environment than you, you couldn’t help but think he felt the same way. That he was constricted and forced to play a role he had no wish to. That he was written off as arrogant and cruel simply because he was born under a male who was.

But he was nothing like his father.

“I know you do because I know you feel the same way, Eris,” you whispered, glancing back at him. “But I see you.”

“Perhaps that scares me.” His amber eyes were still guarded as he looked down at you. “No one has ever looked before. No one has ever wanted to.”

“I do,” you said, holding his gaze. “I want to.”

It was silent for a moment and you twisted back around, staring at the forest ahead.

“You shouldn’t,” Eris said, so quietly, that you were certain he was talking to himself. But despite his words, a tension had been lifted between the two of you.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

A little while later and after several whines about her legs starting to hurt, Eris let his mate have a break. He helped her off Marigold and found a tree to tie the horse to so the two of them could walk for a bit.

He kept a step behind her, watching as she spun in a circle, the leaves crunching beneath her boots, as she took in the forest. The wonder and excitement in her eyes caused a spark in his chest. Those things had long since been beaten out of him so it was nice to see them in someone he already cared so deeply about.

Eris enjoyed being out here with her, away from the Forest House and everyone else. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he kept his guard up to protect his wonderfully oblivious mate from any harm that might come her way.

“It’s so beautiful here,” his mate whispered.

The sunlight casted gold rays of light through the leaves, illuminating her beautiful face. She looked made for this kind of place, for Autumn. His chest ached at the sight—at what could be if his father wasn’t such a conniving bastard.

“It is,” Eris said softly, his amber eyes still trained on his mate. She peeked over her shoulder at him, blushing as she met his gaze. Gods, if he were a lesser male, he’d have shoved her up against a tree and claimed her as his already.

“Hey, I have an idea!”

“I’m sure you do,” he chuckled and she whirled around, placing her hands on her hips as she glared at him.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He shook his head, biting back a smile. “Nothing. What is your idea, bunny?”

“We should play a game,” she said. “Like hide and seek.”

Eris snorted. “Hide and seek? What are we, children? I’m over five hundred years old, bunny, I’m not going to play games with you.”

“Fine, suit yourself,” she shrugged. “But I guess that means you’ll have to return to the Forest House without me unless of course…you find me.”

And then she darted off into the trees, weaving her way out of his view. He expected to find himself irritated, but it was the opposite. He couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped from his mouth at how ridiculous his mate was. Ridiculous and brash—but so endearing.

“You can’t hide from me, bunny,” he shouted into the trees.

Silence met his ears and then…a twig snapped in the distance. He sauntered off in the direction of the noise. He would entertain her absurd game but he would not be running off like some wild beast through the forest. He followed her enticing scent of harvest apples and forest pine, twisting through the tall trees and leaf-covered ground.

He saw a flash of her hair from the corner of his eye and spun in place, listening for her footsteps. He continued following after her, getting small glimpses of her here and there, hearing the tiny giggles that seemed to echo in the silent forest and he realized that a small smile had grown on his face as the game went on.

Until things went so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. He froze, sniffing the air. He could still smell her but where had she gone? He spun in place, looking for footprints and listening for any sounds but…nothing. His heart started to beat faster in his chest, suddenly worried she had run off too far.

“Bunny,” he shouted. “You can come out now!”

Nothing.

The smile on his face dropped and he continued his search. Had she ran into some creature that took her? Had his guard fallen so low that he hadn’t realized that someone else was out here?

“Hey, bunny—fuck!”

Something ran straight into his back and wrapped their arms around his neck, making him stagger forward. He turned around and pinned them against the tree with a snarl so quickly he hadn’t even realized what exactly had knocked into him until he heard the familiar giggles and his mate’s scent washed over him.

“Got you!”

She was staring up at him with wide, excited eyes—her face flushed from her exertion. He stared at her in disbelief, uncertain how she was able to sneak up and ambush him like that. The hand that had wrapped itself around her throat moved to rest on the tree next to her head.

“And so the sly bunny ensnares the dumb fox,” she sang between her pants, her arms still around his neck, her back still pressed against the tree.

He let out a breath, staring down at her with a small glare. “That is not funny. I could’ve hurt you!”

“But you didn’t,” she countered, not seeming concerned about it at all. “I’m surprised I was able to sneak behind you. I thought for sure you saw me at one point. You looked right at me!”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I was standing right there,” she laughed, pointing at a spot to their left. “And you looked right at me! I thought I was busted but I don’t know, Eris, you might be going blind with age.”

Her eyes held amusement as she looked up at him but he was confused. He had no idea what she was talking about—he hadn’t seen her at all. She had not been standing there. She must’ve been mistaking those trees for another.

“Very funny,” he said, deadpanned.

“Oh, don’t be a sore loser,” she teased, her fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, absentmindedly. Her touch sent shivers down his spine. Her body pressed against his fought against the control he had.

He wanted to knock the smug smile right off her face. He stepped closer, placing his free hand on her sternum and trapping her against the tree. He felt her breath hitch and grinned.

“I’m not the loser,” he purred, before leaning down to whisper in her ear, “You’re still ensnared by me, bunny. Not the other way around.”

Being this close to her again reminded him of all the ways he would take her and he let out a heavy breath, trying to keep from getting hard and scaring her away. Her head was tilted back so she could stare at him, her smile slipping as her heart pounded loudly enough that he could hear it through her chest. It seemed to beat in rhythm was his.

He was certain she was going to cave first. His other hand still rested against the tree next to her head, allowing her the chance to dip away if she wanted. Her cheeks turned pink and he was sure she was about to start stuttering like a girlish maiden as she usually did when she said something that absolutely surprised him.

“Maybe I want to be ensnared by you, Eris,” she whispered.

Heat spread through his body like a wildfire and he knew it exuded off of him by the way she melted into his touch, her eyes flickering down to his lips as she shuddered. She bit her lip and he growled, his hand moving up her sternum until it rested against her cheek. He plucked her lip free with his thumb and she met his gaze again—her eyes wide and innocent yet full of desire. He could feel her anticipation down the mating bond, which glowed like firelight between them, and he knew she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

The mating bond sang in his chest.

Mine….Mine….Mine…

She glanced down at his lips again and the look she gave him was enough to snap the last string holding his composure.

So he surged forward and passionately kissed her.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

One second you were thinking of how much you wished Eris would kiss you and the next second he was. His lips were soft, softer than you imagined, and so warm. Your eyes fluttered shut and you kissed him back with the same fire and eagerness that had Eris groaning against your lips. The hand that was resting on your cheek moved to your neck and angled your head back farther so he could deepen the kiss.

One of your own hands slipped into his hair, tangling some red strands between your fingers as the butterflies in your stomach began their frenzy again. All thoughts seemed to cease at that moment. All you could feel was Eris’s body pressed against yours, his kiss so full of hunger that your knees almost buckled under the weight of it.

Your other hand slipped down to grab onto the collar of his tunic and yank him closer. He growled and bit down on your bottom lip; you gasped at the slight pain. He used that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth and his kiss turned crazed.

Fire sparked under your skin, so hot it threatened to consume you.

His hand slipped down to your thigh, yanking your leg up around his hip so he could press in closer to you—nailing you to the tree. The rough bark rubbed against your back, serving as a contrast to the softness of his lips on yours.

He devoured you, kissed you in a way no one ever had before. You didn’t fight for dominance. Not when it felt this good to surrender yourself to him. Heat and wetness pooled in your core—the evidence of his own arousal pressed firmly against your stomach as his tongue continued to explore every crevice in your mouth, claiming it as his.

Every inch of your skin was tingling as he pulled away and began to trail feverish kisses down your jaw and neck—giving you the chance to breathe for a moment. You whimpered as his canines nipped at the sensitive skin on your throat, marking you.

“Do you know how much I think of this?” Eris groaned against your skin, his nose trailing up the column of your throat. “Of ravishing you like this.”

“Y-you do?” You stuttered as his canines grazed your neck again—reminding you again that Eris was no human man. No, he was much more than that of a man. He wasn’t even a full High Lord yet and still, you could feel his power crackling around you like burning embers.

“Oh, bunny,” Eris purred, pulling back to look at you with that fox-like grin that had your knees weak again. “I think of you like this—at my mercy—all the damn time.”

He leaned down and kissed you again until your face was flushed, your lips swollen and your neck was full of love bites. The both of you were panting as he rested his forehead against yours, his amber eyes staring down at you with flame licking his irises, full of hunger and lust and longing.

You knew at that moment that you belonged to Eris because there was no way anyone else on this earth would make you feel as you did now. And you didn’t want there to be anyone else. No, your heart and mind sang for him and him only. No matter how things turned out, you knew they always would. It was scary and thrilling and daunting but it was true.

And by the way he stared down at you, you knew he felt it too.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

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*If you asked to be on the taglist and you don't see your username, tumblr wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :(

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #eris fanfic #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris vandaddy

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planetdream · 21 days

Text

AN EVENING IN THE WOODS !

CHARACTERS ! werewolf!bang chan, human!reader

GENRE ! horror/thriller but barely, smut [minors dni]

WORDS ! 3.3k

SYNOPSIS ! on a drunken game night, you're dared to take a little stroll through the woods after rumors of a werewolf lurking through the town.

THIS FIC CONTAINS ! more thriller than horror i think. mentions of alcohol. being chased/stalked; mentions of being 'kept'. reader desc. wearing long skirt + called 'good girl'. smut [dubcon(?)—reader is basically being used. d/s dynamics—predator versus prey. possessiveness. [rough] sex in the woods. monsterfucking ig. large cock channie <3. pussy eating. facefucking. cumplay + creampie. belly bulge oops. dumbification(?) growling..] used the word 'beast' a lot oops. it gets weird idk

💌 ngl...i think i forgot how to write smut u guys... this is partially inspired by a brief part in house of leaves by mark z. danielewski, but like, not really at all iykyk. anyway, as u kno, i always appreciate feedback <3

There’s a big difference between vampire hunters and werewolf hunters. The creatures are different from each other in both ferocity and nature; thus, the study and hunt of them will differ based on several factors. Hunters of said creatures are expected to know what to do in situations in which they are faced with such foul beasts. You, quite frankly, are neither a vampire nor a werewolf hunter. Inexperienced to the point where you couldn’t begin to imagine what you would do if faced with anything that is such a monstrous terror, let alone a werewolf. Yet, here you are, prancing around the cold forest like a delicious piece of meat, praying that you don’t cross paths with anything—man or beast.

About a month ago, men and women alike began disappearing from town in the late hours of the night, not to be seen or heard from again. In the following weeks, numbers of missing people have only risen, leading many to believe that there might be a serial killer on the loose. That, however, was only until word got around that a town drunkard had seen what he could only describe as a ‘terrifyingly large rabid dog’. ‘It had to be about six feet tall just standing there’, he said, swearing solemnly, even vowing to quit drinking in an effort to portray his seriousness. The man wept, “It was one of them werewolves. I swear by it.”

Only from there did word travel through the town. Though, no one believed the drunk old man, laughing at his testimony—‘A werewolf? In this town? That’s impossible’—some treating it as some fable, or a game, even. Which is what leads to you, alone, in the woods tonight. A fun game of truth or dare with your friends—being a chronic truth picker, tonight (with a little liquid courage) you decide that you want nothing but to humor your associates, you chose dare—turns into you blindly making your way into the dark forest with nothing but a lamp, pocket knife, and a few neon stickers to help you make your way back; and that’s only if you’re not murdered.

By the looks of it, the surrounding forest is empty. The only sounds come from the rustling of tree leaves mingling together due to the wind, the sounds of birds squawking in the far distance, and the snapping and crunching of twigs and leaves beneath your shoes. You trek your way through the trees and dirt extremely unnerved. Nothing has happened at all, and although you’re thankfully still alive and breathing, making your way through the clutter of trees and dead wood, you cannot help but be a bit frightened about the dreariness and uncertainty of the situation.

It’s a cold night, predicted to snow a bit; temperature dropping lower and lower with each hour that falls. The sun had set a while ago and the purple-orange hue leftover has now faded from blue into black. And while the stars are beginning to show themselves—pristine and beautiful—the dark sky only adds to the dreariness of your walk through the forest. The sudden additional silence is eerie, nature has stilled completely. Although the echo of stillness is inexplicable, unusual; it comforts you—knowing that you would hear your assailant coming, should you come close to being attacked.

When looking at your watch, you find that you’ve only been in the forest for fifteen of the required thirty minutes—it’s very possible that you can go the distance, turning on your heels and deciding to make your fifteen minute walk back to the edge of the dark forest; and most importantly, to safety. After all, your friends must be worried about you by now; maybe even surprised that you’ve really stuck to the dare. In a matter of minutes, this will be all over and you will be resting at home.

You had to have been walking in one straight direction, right? Maybe because it’s dark, and you, admittedly, have drunk quite a bit, but the placemarkers you remember sticking to the trees along your path are nowhere to be found. The light of your lamp shines against tree after tree, but they remain in their natural state, unchanged. Your eyes widen, heartbeat increasing as you look at the leftover placemarkers you hold in your hand, only six remaining of your original twenty—so you know you’ve used them.

You stop in your tracks, not willing to venture any further than you already have. Mind racing, scanning and assessing all the possible things you can do, slowly slipping into a panic. You could scream as loud as you can, vocally expressing your need for rescue; but how likely is it that you’ll be heard, especially given how deep into this unchanging landscape you are. Perhaps you can continue walking ahead, only praying that you make your way out unharmed—after all, safety should have been just a fifteen minute walk ahead.

As you lift your foot a few centimeters off of the ground to make your first step, through the darkness of the forest and out of your peripherals, you swear you see a large shadow for just a split second—lurched over and next to a thick tree to your right. A chill runs down your spine and you shudder as you realize the presence of this creature; intimidating and dominant. Taking no chances, feet hitting the ground hard as you sprint through the woods, doing your best to escape this nightmare; real or otherwise.

The action of running when you feel like you’re being chased, versus running because you are being chased, are quite similar. It’s all instinct, a gut feeling that you jump on, increased heart rate; it’s choosing to flee rather than to fight. The difference, in this moment, you realize, is the definite risk of getting caught. The consequences could prove to be unsatisfactory, at the very least, if you were to be caught by whatever it is that may be following after you. Although, looking behind, there’s nothing in sight—no sign of disaster nor danger. You continue along, albeit a lot slower than before, attempting to catch your breath a bit. Walking off trail just a bit to slow down and assess your next course of action.

The snapping of a twig within your vicinity has you darting from the temporary hiding place. However, the predator is right on your trail, persisting in its hunt for flesh. You weave your way through the woods, brain firing off about escaping quickly without harm. The chase does not last long, though. One misstep taking you down, tumbling. Briefly, in your panic, you appear to meet eyes with the foul beast. Fear lodged in your throat, dry and brittle—crumbling into tiny little pieces that pester your insides like a million tiny beetles finding a dark, cavernous home. Stomach clenching, seizing as you cower in submission to your terror. Hands buried into the freshly fallen snow—previous footsteps already blanketed over and long gone. Never have you thought you would give up so easily; unsure if you’ve got it within you to fight back in the absolute worst case.

Body stuck in place, paralyzed with fear once you hear the snow behind you crunch, a sign that the creature is inching closer to you. It’s like your life flashes before your eyes once you feel the snout of the creature pressed against the back of your neck, heat blowing against the back of your neck, followed by a short, deep snarl emitting from within the beast. The large presence behind you is undeniable. The way the creature towers over you is horrifying—a domineering and overbearing sense of power, exuding pride and strength in the form of body heat. It circles you, though you are too terrified to look towards it, despite the daring growl it emits. Heart racing, nearly about to jump out of your chest and run away itself. The creature begins to circle around you, and out of the corner of your eye you can see its feet—huge black paws. Oh great! You’ll be eaten alive.

But then the feet of the beast turns into man, and slowly you raise your face to get a good look at its true face. He starts off as a blur initially, but the longer you look at him, the more recognizable he becomes. A face you’ve always seen lurking around town. Though despite the area being rather small, you’ve never formally interacted—only stared at each other from a distance then kept it moving. Tonight, however, you finally decided to walk up to him at the local bar whilst with friends, only for him to walk away without a word. ‘Oh, him? Yeah, Chan is just like that.’

“Mmm. What’s that smell?” Chan asks while humming. Arms caging you in against the tree as he presses his nose against your neck, right near a particularly sweet spot. “Smells heavenly. So sweet and delicious.”

He continues to sniff you out, planting a small kiss to your neck before traveling lower, nose now pressed to the fabric of your clothing. Face pressed in between the valley of your breast, Chan takes a long, deep inhale. His eyes are closed as he pulls back, slightly smirking with clear contentment. Chan takes the material of your shirt pinched between his fingertips before tearing the shirt down the middle, groaning at your now exposed chest. His hands cup your tits, thumbs teasing at your nipples, as he runs his nose down the valley, before swiping back up with his tongue.

Chan isn’t done, nose still pressed against your skin as he sinks down to his knees. Rough hands cupping your ass, squeezing, as he stops—nose pressed against your mound, breathing you in while trying to pull you closer, finally finding the source of that sweet, heavenly scent. He’s breathing heavily to the point that you can feel his hot breath against your skin through the thin material of your skirt; snarling as he takes in your scent. And he’s mumbling something down there—pussy hungry words about how fucking delectable you smell. Perfect to devour.

Contrary to the petrifying circumstance, the rush of adrenaline you get in the moment is euphoric and exhilarating. Chan’s touch is hot against you, almost scorching, and leaves you wanting—no, needing more of him.

He hikes up the long length of your skirt with ease, throwing your leg over his shoulder to force your hips towards his face, diving face first into your cunt. Tongue lapping up hungrily at your wetness, moaning and groaning without a care in the world as he gets the first taste of his meal. Plump lips sucking your clit, vibrating when he moans, causing you to shake and squirm, but Chan has a strong grip against you. He’s messy as he eats you—occasionally breaking free, not for air, but to spit against your cunt—as the lower half of his face is covered in your nectar; which he hopes never washes off, absolutely frenzied by your scent, cock hard and leaking cum, jumping at the thought of finally getting to fuck his cock into this sweet little cunt.

While Chan is usually a patient man, having no problem in waiting—stalking his prey and then teasing them for hours upon hours on end—he finds himself struck with need. A particular need to feast. To fuck and destroy his prey. Days and days of stalking you, taunting you from afar, and you played right into his palm—obviously fated to be found afraid and lost, deep in his territory. It is at this point he thinks to keep you. Perhaps hide you away somewhere cold and dark where only he’d be able to find you. Keeping you bound to him until he gets sick of you—or until you cease to exist. Aching to fuck you over and over and over again until it becomes too difficult for you to even think about moving a muscle, succumbing fully to his torturous pleasure. He stops himself from thinking too far ahead all too soon, clearly entranced by the sweetness of your cunt.

Chan springs to his feet; cock heavy, hard and curving to the right, tip swelling red with need and dripping with precum. Your eyes are glued to his cock as you watch him massage his right hand over it; even in his big palms his cock is huge. The excitement to take him spreads from the pit of your stomach and up your chest, visualizing into the form of goosebumps all over your arms. He just laughs at the look on your face; how equally intrigued and dismayed you appear. A perfect little lamb stalked and caught by the big bad wolf, unable to flee due to their own fascination despite their fright.

Chan leans in, his lips against yours briefly. A hand curling into your hair to bring you down to your knees, you follow suit. His hand stays tangled in your hair, pulling harshly against your scalp. With his other hand, Chan strokes his cock, running his thumb over the tip; then pulling your head towards his tip. Eagerly, your tongue slips from your mouth, ready to taste everything he’s giving you. You swirl your tongue around him, but Chan has other plans, slowly sliding his cock into your mouth; helping you savor the slightly salty taste of his seed. Fixing your mouth open as wide as it can go, with both hands now tangled into your hair, he thrusts his cock in and out of your mouth, slowly increasing the speed of his thrust.

“You just take it like a good girl, huh?” You don’t say anything, but that dazed look in your eye and the moan that escapes from deep in your throat tells Chan all he needs to know.

“Perfect little mouth, but I bet that pussy is even better.” Chan frees his cock from your mouth with a trail of spit. His hand around his cock once again, the slick sound like music to your ears. Though, it’s at this point that the cold air is starting to get to you—the snow is light but still continuous—yet you power through it for just another taste of Chan.

“Want you so bad,” You bite your lip, looking into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed together. You stand and stretch to turn your back to him, looking over your shoulder as you wiggle your backside towards him like a bitch in heat. Chan smirks at you, a small laugh erupting from him at the sight of your shamelessness.

In the heat of the moment, Chan licks the palm of his hand before bringing it down to rub at your cunt from behind. He doesn’t say anything, but you can hear a long, deep snarl come from within his chest. The closer he gets to you, the louder the growl echoes, and the more he warms you with his body heat—caging you in against the tree. You grind into his hand, greedily taking anything he gives you. While Chan is steadily becoming just as impatient as you, he always spares time to play with his food; teasing the tip of his cock against your slit. Chan slowly slides into your cunt—a rough hand clenching onto your hip, nails digging into your skin; not nearly enough to keep him from losing his cool as your wetness encases his cock, wet and tight.

You’re barely taking half of his dick before the stretch of it nearly becomes too much—but he’s one step ahead of you; arm snakes across your belly and down to your cunt, two wet fingers ready to play with your clit. Chan works his fingers against your clit slowly winding you up, all while planting a quick kiss against your shoulder; tongue drooling out to lick a long wet stripe against your neck. It’s only once he receives a moan from you in response that he starts thrusting into you slowly; the thrusts of his hips syncing with the movement of his fingers.

It isn’t long before you’re taking more and more of his cock, being stuffed and stretched deliciously. Cunt leaking and begging for more of him. Chan lets out these harsh growls and grunts that contrast with the pitch of your moans. His nails dig into your hips, using a minimal amount of strength to pull your hips back against him, making you meet his thrusts. His hips smack against your ass roughly, cock stretching you further, but your cunt swallows every inch perfectly. That’s only until he slides out of you, wordless, yet, still letting out a snarl. He pushes you onto the ground, hands and knees crashing into the new layers of snow. You yelp out in response, but Chan can only laugh at you.

“Just letting me push you around like this? I think I should keep you,” He follows you, kneeling onto the ground, cock in hand. Laying a quick smack at your ass, he hums. “How would you feel about being my little plaything, huh?”

His free hand kneads against your ass while he plays with his cock. “Keep you locked up with me ‘n only let you out in these woods at night, hmm? All cute ‘n naked for me to hunt down and fuck again.”

“And you can’t even hide cause I’ll always find you, pretty.” He finally slides into your cunt, still not letting you have all of him, yet. “How does that sound? Do you like it?”

His words are filthy and so are his touches but somehow he’s got you entranced. You let out a loud, cracked sob of a yes in response to his inquiries as if he bullied it out of you. “Good girl.”

Chan finally allows himself to break—hips snapping harshly into yours. Not caring if you go limp from the way he’s fucking into you, instead his hands are once again clenching your hips, grinding his hips against your ass whenever he thrusts his cock back into you. Your fists clutching onto the snow as you take his cock, unable to do much but drool and mewl for him.

He presses his chest across your back, caging you onto the cold ground. His tongue once again flat against your skin, licking every inch of what exposed skin he has access to. Still pounding into you as he chases his impending orgasm. Then he sinks his teeth into the skin of your shoulder, letting out a whine rather than the usual growl as he fucks his cum into you. It’s hot, sticky, and heavy—and it seems like it’s unending; seemingly producing more and more as he pumps his cock into you. Slowly Chan reaches a hand down to press against your lower abdomen; feeling how your belly swells with all the cum his cock is feeding your cunt.

You moan at the feeling when Chan pulls out of you with a sigh of exhaust. Cum coating his cock and spilling out of your cunt, staining your thighs. So much of his seed has spilled out and he’s no longer stuffing you with his cock, but yet you feel so full. Chan continues to incite, two thick fingers dip into your cunt to scoop up and play with the excess cum that’s dripping from your hole.

Chan pulls you back to him by your arms, caging you against his chest. He whispers to you. “What if we played a fun little game, hm?”

He grips your chin and those same two digits that were once inside of you, force into your mouth, offering you another taste of Chan’s cum. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice, “Let’s say, I give you a ten second head start to run.”

Chan kisses the back of your neck and a chill runs down your spine. “The ten seconds start now.”

He frees you from his hold, and springs to his feet leaving you dumbfounded. But by the time you stand and face the direction of Chan, legs weak and cold, he’s no longer there.

It seems his fun little game has officially started.

#🌑 — vivid dreams #🌑 — vividdream.skz #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #skz smut #bang chan x reader

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certifiedwhore4slashers · 5 months

Text

Manipulative

pairing: coriolanus snow x f!reader, past oc x f!reader.

summary: he’s fallen way too deep, and he knows that.

a/n: i am in no way romanticizing nor defending his actions, he sucks as a person, this is for funsies, keep that in mind. remember he’s literally responsible for mass murders of children. also this idea is cliche ik ik. but, if you want more I will do more with original ideas.

reader has somewhat long hair, BUT no other descriptions of the reader. and I don’t usually do that. just for this post:)

warnings: yandere themes, toxicity, manipulative behavior(manipulation) obsession, possessiveness, no fluff, implied/referenced murder, slight blood, narcissistic tendencies, delusion, unhealed trauma, implied stalking, mild violence.

The meadow was where you’d often go. Ever since the games, it was a stress reliever, humming some songs or even just listening to the birds chirp.

After Coriolanus was sent to be a peacekeeper, You were sent home. District 12 was your home. You sat down on the cold rock. You were more of an creative artist than musician. Sometimes you wrote songs, and sometimes you wrote poems or just stories.

But you didn’t feel like doing anything today, just admiring the breeze in front of you. You were fairly zoned out when you hear a twig snap, and turn around.

You sigh of relief.”Sorry. Still have those instincts from the games.” You rushed over, not doing much. Still in disbelief he really was there.

You didn’t expect him to be here. But here he was. “It leaves quite the impression, He chuckled. It was a long embrace, and you say,”You found me. Quite surprised.”

“You figured I would, He teased. “Not this fast, and really it was hope, You tease right back, lips on his, it was passionate and sweet, ideal for a reunion.

“The sun’s hot, come in the shade, You offer. He had some ice, now melted and offered it.”Here. For you.” “Thank you, You reply.

You were very thirsty. The moment the water hit your tongue you were in heaven. “This must be the only cold thing in November, he joked.

You laugh in response.”So, Coriolanus Snow, What are you doing in the Meadow?” You were half joking. You never were fully serious. At least until it came to your feelings for him.

“Spending some time with my girl, He replies. The word My, a possessive tone, You notice. But brush it off.

“It’s unbelievable, You admit.”Truly. But I was surprised they brought me back. I swore It was all me.” “But it wasn’t, he points out. You look at him.”Clearly they didn’t believe me.”

His lips were on yours again, long and passionate. You two hadn’t seen each other since the games ended.

“Well, It was hard to believe for me too, He admits.”Tell me what happened after.” It was difficult to recall everything. The games were a nightmare. Especially the Arena. And Mayfair.

As the two of you share the water, You couldn’t help but wonder as he told stories, exchanging them, if something was wrong.

“Poor Jessup, You say sympathetically.”He didn’t deserve that. It was you, though, wasn’t it? The one who killed Bobbin?”

“I had to, Coriolanus replied.”He tried to kill me.” “I’m not saying what you did was wrong, but I suppose killing is for survival in the Arena, You reply. Snow only nodded.

“I heard the others brag, You say.”So I know. I thought the worst happened. You know, that you were dead.”

Heading back up beside him, You still couldn’t believe he was here. Whatever relationship you had, seemed to grow.

“What have you been up to? He asks, curiously.”It’s been a while.” “It has, you laugh.”And truly, not much. A few performances here and then. At the Hob, Maude Ivory’s an amazing singer like Lucy Gray.”

For a mere moment, You were in complete bliss. And that night was a normal evening for the Covey. Your parents were killed, well, your adoptive parents. They took you in, then Maude Ivory came along, your younger sister.

You became a part of the Covey. Until of course, their murders. But you had her, at least. “You want one? A peacekeeper asks, referring to liquor.”You might need it for your performance.”

“Sure, You grin, taking a swig, not making a reaction to the bitterness of it.”You’re right. I might need it.” Lucy Gray was a beautiful singer, but tonight, let you perform.

“Are you sure? I’m not the songbird, You tease. “I’m sure, and Maude Ivory wanted you to, She sweetly says. Your cousin was always the songbird.

“Besides, I think he’d like to hear you sing, Lucy Gray smirked. You knew who she was referring to. Truly the one who knew of your relationship, but by accident.

You wore a yellow dress, not too short but not too long either, and sunflowers in your hair. You wanted to have a good impression.

You tease her,”I think he’d like to hear you.” But you went up there, guitar in hand. A talent that you and Lucy Gray both had. It was the genes, you swore.

But you amazed the crowd as you sang. You were no Songbird. But you had some talent. And the whole time your eyes were on him.

It made him feel more special, in a way. Like the only person could make you feel this happy was him. Him. You were his, at least in his eyes.

But you did a wonderful performance. You mostly did instruments and stood in the background. You didn’t sing much.

Even though you were aware he was there, you went on, even with butterflies in your stomach. It was later that evening that things went downhill.

You said goodbye, even to Coriolanus, saying,”I shouldn’t be out so late anyway. But I promise, straight tomorrow. I’m sure you have peacekeeper things to do, anyway.”

He smiles.”It’s alright. You must be tired from that performance.” You laugh, then nod, quickly kissing him, then moving along.

You didn’t notice that he followed you. He was quite literally, obsessed. Especially after hearing your sweet voice. Since finding your home in the Seam, it wasn’t hard to follow you, and pretend he was there for something else.

Sometimes, he’d meet you there. Other times, didn’t even know he was there watching. He’d call it protectiveness. But it was really a sense of possessiveness over you.

That’s what it really was.

He heard your voice in your room, you sang to yourself. You sang a love song. That wasn’t hard to understand.

He had a sense of jealousy. It was clear the lyrics wasn’t about him. A past one, maybe. It wasn’t Billy Taupe. He had Lucy Gray. So who could you mentioned?

He was bloodthirsty. Or at least, had a taste for violence. He’d never say it or admit it. It was like he was a rebel. And he hated rebels.

But that didn’t stop him from feeling this way. As you danced and sang a little. Coriolanus defended his behavior, he was being protective of you. That nobody would hurt you.

He had fallen way too deep. And he was aware. You might feel the same about him, just as equally obsessed as he was. But that night, he wasn’t looking for trouble. Not much, anyway.

Someone stood beside him, admiring your singing. “Peacekeeper, huh? The male laughed. Coriolanus turns.”Yeah. Punishment. Not a choice.”

“She’s always been a singer, the male explained.”didn’t have much faith.” He wanted to know how the male knew that.

“How do you know? Coriolanus asked, curiously. “She wrote that song about me, the male bragged and seemed proud.”One of these days she’ll get back together with me.”

You never mentioned your ex lover much. Only that he hurt you, and that he was still infatuated. You were right about that.

“She isn’t interested, Coriolanus says, coldly. His fists clenched, along with his jaw, both from the rage he was feeling.

Maybe it was his narcissistic tendencies that were showing. A feeling of shame. A feeling that, he was superior than the male standing in front of him. He’d do so much better.

And with that, he swung. He could’ve shot him. But it was the easy way. And he didn’t deserve the easy way. His blood thirst took over a little, and like Bobbin, didn’t know how far his strength would go.

He stands back, his knuckles bleeding and blood on his uniform he’d have to explain later. Maybe it was a mistake coming to visit you. Your singing had stopped.

He pants. What had he done? Standing over the body, Coriolanus realized what he truly had done. And what could he do? He didn’t want a career as a peacekeeper; but his future would be damaged even further. He had to do something.

The Lake.

It brought him good memories. Swimming alongside you and the covey. But he’d have to hide the body somewhere.

It took a lot of his strength; but didn’t wear him out to drag him to the lake. It wouldn’t be too hard hiding evidence. His body would eventually disappear and Coriolanus doubted anybody cared about him. You didn’t anymore.

And he just watched. After the blood washed off, He walked away. He left the Seam. He'd come back. But You'd be aware of it.

Morning came, and peacekeepers came knocking at your door. The whole morning was a mess. When you did eventually meet up with Coriolanus, you decided on telling him about it.

“Did you know? She asked.”I’m assuming every peacekeeper knew. The guy I used to go out with was murdered. Found in the lake.”

“We were informed today, but I wasn’t the one who found it, He lies. He did not like lying, but he had to. He held a tight grip on you.

And he wasn’t letting you go.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #fem!reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #reader insert #tw obsession #tw yandere #yandere coriolanus snow

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frannyzooey · 6 months

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Short Days, Long Nights: 15

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Explicit, teeny tiny lactation kink, Joel being real cute with a baby is it's own warning

A/N: ❤ thank you one million times over to @the-scandalorian who always give the best feedback and advice, to @the-ginger-hedge-witch who is always the most supportive and a special shout out to @mrsquill whose advice and perspective was much needed, being the big beautiful brain she is.

Joel picks his way through the woods, brushing aside the sprawling branches that reach out to catch his shirt. A small bundle tucked against his chest in a makeshift carrier, he’s got one hand splayed across it, protectively shielding it. His boots crunch over fallen twigs, and from within the folds of fabric, June’s dark eyes look up.

Flitting between staring at him and the contrast of the treetops as she takes in the surroundings, dapples of sunlight shift and play across her small face, light catching the swirls of her dark brown curls. When she starts squirming, Joel looks down and smiles at her.

“You ready to get up, baby girl?”

Shifting her in the wrapped sling to face his chest instead of lying down, he makes sure she’s secure before he continues, giving her his thumb to hold onto. Her tiny, chubby hand wraps halfway around it and letting her squeeze it, he strokes the soft skin on the back of her hand.

Carefully placed steps to avoid tripping on anything, his boots follow his normal hunting path, only this time he’s not hunting: he’s taking her for their daily walk.

Starting as something he’d hoped would calm her down during her early days, he’s taken to walking all over the place with her while you nap in the afternoons. Never far enough that he couldn’t get back quickly if he needed to, they’ve explored every inch of the woods surrounding the cabin. Sometimes she’s fussy, sometimes she’s still, and sometimes - like today - she’s alert and awake, lifting her head off his chest to peek at the world around her.

“You hear that, baby girl? You hear that bird singin’ to you?”

He talks to her without even realizing it, a constant, soothing murmur.

His lips brush the downy crown of her hair, dragging back and forth just to feel the tickle of softness and he presses a kiss there, turning back towards home.

Home.

He’d begun calling it that while talking out loud to her and then kept saying it, because it was true. This was his home, and hers, and yours. One that, even though summer had begun and she was now here, had become impossible to leave.

He had agreed to stay until she was born, but with every day that passed, he couldn’t bring himself to move forward with the plan. Days had slid together, weeks blurring as he helped care for her while you healed and he knew you wouldn’t be able to make the trek then, so he said nothing. Another month passed after that, and he thought about it - he really did - but couldn’t quite reconcile the concept of a potential threat with the present sense of safety. The danger that had seemed so immediate and imminent and threatening had faded into the background, giving way to the quiet routine of life, and the three of you continued on.

The map was still in the cabin, as a reminder of what was waiting out there, but so were other things:

Her, in her cradle in the corner of the room along with the pillowcase that she’s taken to sleeping with, in lieu of a baby blanket.

You, on the living room floor, your smile blinding as you stretched out next to her wriggling body in the afternoons.

Her basket on the edge of your garden: you working, her small fists stretching and flexing towards the sky, visible just over the wicker rim.

For someone who had little to no experience with it, you’d taken to motherhood like you’d done it all before. The birth, nursing, adjusting to a new sleep schedule, learning what every one of her cries meant and just how to soothe it. A seemingly deep reserve of patience held within you, your constant resourcefulness when it came to everything you had both on hand and inside yourself, he finds he loves you even more than he did before.

Constantly impressed and humbled by this new version of you emerging right in front of him, he tries to let you both know how he feels in his own, wordless ways: referring to and respecting your knowledge and guidance when it comes to planting, delicate brushes of his hand on the small of your back while you talk with him in the kitchen, stopping you while you do chores to guide your mouth to his in a kiss of appreciation. Rocking June to sleep when she wakes, washing her clothes in the river, taking her for walks.

So accustomed to thinking of his own body as a weapon, spending years using it as a means of protecting those he loves, he’s found an entirely new use for it right alongside yours: familiar, tender motions he thought were lost coming to the surface.

Emerging from the woods, the familiar slope of your land comes into view and he makes his way down to the edge of the water. His boots sink into the soft give of the sand, a trail of impressions left behind him, and he drops down to a crouch before fully sitting down. Unwinding the fabric tied around his shoulder, he gently eases June out of the carrier.

Delicate yet steady in his hold on her, he props his forearms on his knees and lifts her so they are face to face.

“How much did you sleep last night?” he asks, a deep frown settling between his brows. Dark bags show under his eyes, and she wriggles in his grip, her legs kicking.

“Felt like you didn’t sleep at all. Keepin’ us up all night with your fussin’.”

She pays no mind to the stern look on his face, the gentle tone of his words in contrast with their scolding, and his lips brush against her cheek, her mouth opening to chase his with a babbling, wet sound.

“You’re cute, baby girl, but you ain’t that cute. You gotta let us sleep.”

She lets out a soft cry, and he chuckles.

“Okay, I take it back. You are that cute.”

They look at each other for a moment, her small, dark eyes studying his larger ones and a familiar glint of hazel captures his breath for a moment, his heart seizing.

Identical to Sarah’s color, the likeness flits through them almost faster than he can catch it, though it doesn’t stop him from staring intently at June in hopes of it coming back. She blinks and looks away, her body flexing in a stretch.

“I saw you,” he says quietly, to himself.

June’s eyes come back to him at the sound of his voice, and the corner of his mouth lifts.

“I think your big sister was just sayin’ hi, pretty girl.”

Impossible to ignore since the moment she came into the world and he caught her in his hands, he saw Sarah in June all the time. Every day: sometimes in her eyes, in her expressions, in her movements. He knew June was her own being, a mixture of himself and you that he loved. His eyes, the shape of your face. His dark hair, your smile. But when he caught glimpses of Sarah in her, he immediately chased the fleeting image before he could think about how much it would hurt to see it. Another chance to see her again, at any cost.

Introducing the memory of Sarah to June as her “big sister,” a burden was lifted from his chest the day he started speaking about her. With nothing but the solitude of the woods around them and her tiny ears to hear his words, once he started, he couldn’t stop.

Years of buried memories, of guilt, of confessions and apologies as his heart ached recounting the things he’d done. All of them laid bare to June, who absorbed them with quiet fascination at the low, rumbling voice of her father. The words meaningless to her and received without the judgment of someone who would actually understand what he was saying, everything came pouring out.

Everything he’d done, everything he regretted, everything he missed.

Once those were let out into the world, he focused on the good: Sarah’s love for soccer, for animals, her stubborn streak that matched his own. Her sense of humor, her girliness, vacations they took and their time spent together.

Emerging from the depths he’d buried it under long ago, Sarah’s memory grew stronger every day and he was surprised to find that it hurt… less than it used to. Something he used to avoid due to the sheer pain that would come alongside the memories, he now seeks them out, to relive them in a new light. Basking in this second chance with her, he looks forward to seeing her in any way she appears in this life.

“You think your momma’s up yet?” he asks. “Or should we give her a little bit more time?”

He waits for an answer he knows isn’t coming, but he studies June’s face like it is, eventually answering himself with a nod.

“More time, I think. You’re right.”

Turning her to face the water, he places her in his lap and with sunlight flooding the bank, they sit and look at the water together.

–

You feel as though you could sleep forever.

Your heavy eyes blinking open, you stay in place and listen. Silence, which means they must still be out and rolling onto your side, you sink deeper under the thin quilt. Exhaustion blankets you, pulling your eyes shut.

Tired. So tired, more tired than you’ve ever been in your life. He catches naps whenever he can, seemingly able to fall asleep for a moment whenever and wherever in the way older men do, but not you. Your mind is a constant whirring machine of what needs to be done next and it takes forever to turn off, but last night she was up for ages, and so when he told you to take a nap, you crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow.

Your face brushing the cool cotton of his pillowcase, you bury your nose into it, inhaling. A need flickers to life inside you, slowly unfurling under the heaviness of your limbs and you wish he was lying in bed with you right now.

In the morning sometimes when she’s in her cradle, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and breathe deeply, letting your lips catch the edge of his whiskers. When you seek out his skin, he rolls to face you with still closed eyes but finds you just the same.

Still, they are kisses that only awaken, never slake. Early morning sleep soft kisses. Warm skin under wandering hands, until she cries. Never any time to linger in the morning, you can still taste the firm press of his mouth against yours if you try hard enough and the memory of yesterday slips into your sleep-hazed mind, the edges fuzzy and soft.

“What’s this for?”, you hummed, leaning back into him.

His mouth rested on your neck, his lips molding to the slope of it. One kiss, another and his tongue slipped out, tasting your skin.

“Jus’ missed you. Thinkin’ about you.”

“Oh yea? What were you thinking about?”

He kissed your neck again, letting his mouth rest just under your ear. “ ‘Bout the other night.”

The other night: when he held his hand over your mouth and worked you with his fingers over your soaked panties until you came with a broken cry, right before kneeling next to you on the bed to watch you jerk him to completion onto your stomach. Afterwards, he smeared it around and you licked the spend from his fingers.

“That was nice,” you smiled, turning to face him. Threading your fingers through his curls, you offered your mouth to him and he took it, his own need apparent in the way it moved against yours—telling and deep.

Just the two of you for so long before June came along, it felt good to be reminded that he still wanted you like that: as a woman, instead of just a mother. The new role unfamiliar and flooded with a constant rollercoaster of shifting emotions, it was hard to navigate this version of yourself, and even harder to articulate those emotions into words. Joy like you’ve never known blended with bone weary exhaustion and pain. A fierce need to prove to yourself that you could do this, while still wanting him to take the lead. A new found self-pride laced with frustration and sadness and an ache for the way your relationship used to be.

All of these emotions, fading away to be replaced by a happiness you never thought possible whenever you looked at June.

He’s helped you navigate it all, just like he’s always helped you navigate: the group when you had one, dangerous routes when you used to take them, this new life when you made the suggestion. Jackson, should he ever bring it up again. The possibility of leaving was something you hoped every day that he’d forgotten about, but you didn’t dare bring up the subject in case he hadn’t. You weren’t ready. Not yet.

With the idea of sleeping on the hard ground making the comforting cloud of your bed hard to leave, you eventually rise and peek out the window in search of them. The broad expanse of his back sits down by the water, and you see him lift her to face him, murmuring words you can’t hear.

A delicacy to his touch and another side to his competence that you’d never have seen without her, Joel Miller the dad was someone you felt lucky to witness, but the thought of Joel Miller the man was the one that had your eyes lingering on his shoulders and the flex of his biceps under the material of his shirt.

Recalling his kiss from earlier that morning, you walk out of the room to go greet them.

–

“How old are you going to be when she’s ten?”

He groans, closing his eyes. “Christ, don’ ask me that.”

You giggle, and he peeks an eye open at you.

“Your daddy is gonna be wearin’ diapers soon,” you coo down at June, and he’s quick with his reply.

“Who says I don’t already?”

Your playful giggle turns into a full laugh.

“Smart-ass,” he grumbles, a good natured grin at the edge of his lips.

He leans back into the worn couch, letting his head tilt to the side as he watches the two of you on the floor in front of him. The days getting longer with the time of year, evening sunlight streams in through the windows you washed earlier that day and its rays fill the room with enough light to see. The windows open, a breeze flows through.

Rolling from your side onto your stomach, his gaze drifts from the curve of your cheek to the small round of your shoulder, to the wide open expression of pure contentment and love on your face as you coo a soothing murmur of nonsense down at June. She eats it up, her limbs kicking in jerky, excited movements in her splay on her back and she is transfixed by your face, alert and focused.

Filled with gratitude, he’s silent for a moment as he just…watches.

Your finger dangles over June’s grasping hand until she takes it and wiggling it with a smile and a tease, you take it from her and dance your fingers down her belly, tickling. Her tiny body kicks in response, never ceasing in its movement.

An overlay of his shitty QZ apartment blankets the room, and he immediately rejects the image, knowing you don’t belong there. The concrete he's slept on and the endless things he’s done to survive flood his mind and a simultaneous reaction wars within him: guilt, at the idea he doesn’t deserve this life after everything he’s done, and the answering fierce urge to defend it, making sure no one ever takes it away from him.

“You thinking about it?”

Your question drags him to the present, and he frowns.

“Leaving,” you clarify. You look down, your expression turning solemn. “You were quiet for a while,” you say quietly. “I thought maybe you finally remembered.”

Reading the tone in which you deliver your hesitant statement as dreading something inevitable, he’s honest in his reply in hopes to soothe you.

“No,” he says. “I actually haven’t thought about it in awhile. Not seriously, anyway.”

Your eyes lift to meet his and the hope you’re trying to conceal in your expression almost breaks him.

“You were right,” he continues. “We got the garden up and runnin’, got everything all setup like we like. Got a safe place for her.” His chin tilts towards June, her fists flailing in exploration until you catch one in your hold.

“And if someone comes?” you broach hesitantly.

His jaw shifts, his eyes drifting down to June. “If someone comes, I’ll deal with ‘em.”

He will.

There is a finality in his tone, even if he isn’t sure it’s a promise he can make, but it feels right saying out loud. You belong here, she belongs here and he can’t let anyone take that away, not even himself.

You say nothing, searching for the truth on his face and when you find it, the edge of your mouth lifts in disbelief.

“Joel Miller, the optimist,” you tease.

Because of you, he immediately thinks. Instead, he teases right back.

“What, you think I can’t?”

You huff a laugh, rolling your eyes. Your playful expression faltering after a moment, your attention shifts to June and a telltale trembling of your lip catches his eye as you avoid his gaze. Knowing you’re purposefully not looking at him because you’re self conscious about how easy it is to make you cry after June’s birth, he leans forward and drops down to join you on the floor.

“Hey,” he says softly, crawling over and reaching out over her body to grasp your chin. “Hey now.”

You let him guide your face to his, and he sees he's right. A tear rolls smoothly down your cheek and his frown softens with his voice.

“I would never let anything happen to you, honey. Either of you.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” you start, your breath shuddering. You swallow and then surprise him with a watery laugh. “I’m not – I’m not scared of that. I’m just –” you sniffle again, blinking free another tear. “I’m just so happy.”

A sob breaks free on the last word and the contrast of your statement with your reaction makes him laugh, which in turn makes you laugh through another sob. Then, a new sound blends into it from beneath the two of you, one that makes you both stop.

“Did she just –” your breathing hitches, and you look from her to him. “Did she just laugh?”

The first time it’s ever happened, she does it again when you laugh in astonished, watery joy and it only makes you sob harder, tucking your face into the crook of your elbow.

“She’s laughin’ at you,” he chuckles, splaying his hand wide over her belly, grinning down at her with deep dimples.

Taking a deep breath and wiping your eyes on your sleeve, you smile down at June.

“Your daddy is gonna let us stay,” you say to her, your voice thick with tears and joy as you sniff again.

“Only ‘cause your momma has made us such a good home.”

Teasing words covering true, deep emotions, he looks at you and with tears still clinging to your wet lashes, he thinks you might be one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen. So much love shines through your gaze that the intensity of it is almost overwhelming, but he doesn’t look away. He meets it, unwavering.

“Joel,” you start, slipping your hand over his where it still rests on her belly, covering it with a squeeze. “If you ever want to go, I’ll go. I’d follow you wherever. Here, Jackson, somewhere else. Anywhere else. I trust you.”

Not trusting himself to speak without his voice breaking, he just lifts the corner of his mouth and nods before bending his head to press a kiss to the back of your hand.

A silent devotional action, to the one who has given him everything.

Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, you go back to trying to make June laugh and he watches the two of you from his place on the floor, stretched out alongside you.

How could he leave?

—

Attempting to summon the courage while tugging at the silken fabric to make sure it covers all the parts of yourself that you are unsure of, you stare at your reflection in the mirror; his low singing voice coming from June’s room.

All day, you’ve secretly ached for him.

A fire ignited every time you saw him with her: holding her, cradling her, one hand across her chest as she slept next to him on the couch while he read. And without: the short, dark strands of hair at the nape of his tanned neck, the little slice of skin above the waistband of his jeans that peeked out when he crouched. His thick forearms, his firm thighs.

An ache that had been present since you woke up this morning, you’ve missed the man he is: his body, his skillful touch, his masculine, solid form moving against yours. A while since she’s gone down this early, you want to take advantage of the gift of time and show him how much you’ve missed him…but there is still a slight insecurity about this changed body of yours.

Smoothing your hands over the lace that rests over your cleavage as you look some more, the soft scuff of his boots across the floor as he enters the bedroom has you immediately second guessing, quickly turning for your robe.

“She went down okay,“ he says tiredly, scrubbing his hand down his face. He tugs his shirt off with a one handed hold behind his back, kicking off his boots while unbuckling his jeans. Shucking them off to drape them over the chair in the corner, he looks up at your silence.

Frozen in front of him, your hands clutch the robe together.

“You okay?” he asks, his tired expression knit with concern.

“That was quicker than I thought.”

He huffs, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I’m not complain’.”

“Neither am I, I just –” your hands fiddle with the thick material, your teeth tugging on your bottom lip. “I just wasn’t ready for you.”

Studying your face, he tilts his head up, lifting an eyebrow. “Ready for me?” His eyes drop down your body, his posture straightening with interest. “You got somethin’ under there?”

You hesitate for a moment. “Turn out the light first?”

His eyes darken at your answer and he slowly leans to the side, reaching to turn the lantern down. The room descends into a shadowed version of itself, everything bathed in dim warmth and he settles back into position, waiting.

Taking a deep breath and feeling braver in the darkness of the room, you open the robe and let it fall to the floor.

“What’s all this?” he asks, his husky drawl low and slow.

Stepping between his thighs, you take his larger hand in your smaller one and place it over your side, encouraging him to touch. He splays his fingers, searching for the heat of your skin through the thin material and gliding his hold up until his thumb drags lightly across your nipple, his eyes watch as it pebbles under the silk. Arching slightly into his touch, he takes your lead and tenderly palms the weight of your breast.

Hooded, his eyes stay fixed on his hand. “Where did you get this?”

“I found it months ago,” you reply, your tone breathy and warm from the delicate brush of his fingertips over the fabric.

He hums, letting his hand drag down your sternum with weighted exploration, curling firmly around your hip to pull you closer.

“Do you like it?”

“Do I like it?” he asks in disbelief, immediately looking up at you. He bunches the silk in his fists, pulling it tight against your body. His throat bobs, his tongue dragging across his bottom lip as his eyes make a circuit down the length of you and back up.

“My pretty girl, all dressed up for me. How could I not?”

Bending down for a kiss, you place your hands on his shoulders and the hunger in the way he presses his mouth against yours betrays every thought running through his mind. Suddenly more awake than he seemed, he can’t stop shifting his hold on you: his mouth taking and taking, while his hands touch everything he can reach.

When they get to the hem of the nighty and pull it up over your ass, he groans into your mouth when he finds nothing but bare skin underneath.

“Nothin’ underneath? You’re such a good fuckin’ girl,” he breathes against your mouth, right before capturing it again in a devouring kiss. Leaving you breathless, he follows the column of your throat with a whiskery scrape of his beard against your skin, and works his way down, his humid breath ghosting over the tops of your breasts as he gives every inch of skin he finds an open mouthed kiss.

Slipping the shoulder strap down, the fabric falls away and he takes your nipple into his mouth immediately. Letting out a low moan with a pinched frown of pleasure, his eyes close and he draws from you: his hand coming up to cradle the underside of your breast, pushing more into his mouth as he swirls his tongue over the sensitive peak. His other hand digs into the curve of your hip, keeping you in place. Holding on, like you’re the anchor.

Your fingers bury themselves in his soft curls, and he groans. Pulling back, a glimmer of something white is smeared on his lower lip, and his tongue darts out to taste the drop of liquid.

“Takin’ care of my baby, with this perfect fuckin’ body.”

Soaked in worship, his words have you climbing onto his lap as he guides you in place and gathering you into his arms, he tugs your knee up to force you into a straddle over his thighs. Deepening his kiss with an inviting, slick slide of his tongue against yours, a low hum pours out of your throat and you grind against him, seeking the warm heft between his thighs until he shifts and rolls you onto your back, laying you out underneath him.

His humid breath consumes you, the scent of his skin filling your senses. The firm rounds of his shoulders bunch under your touch, his biceps flexing in their strain as he moves above you and his solid torso presses against yours, forcing you into the mattress. His mouth never ceases and neither does yours, every part of your bodies seeking the other out to move in a mimic of the act itself and winding your legs around his waist, he grinds himself against you until you’re whiny and restless underneath him, your cunt slick and soaked against his cotton briefs. When you start to shove them down his hips, he helps.

Tugging them down and kicking them off, his cock drags along the inside of your thigh when he lowers himself back over you.

“I need you inside me,” you moan, reaching for him. “I want it.”

“Yea? You want my cock?”

“I’ve wanted it all day. All day while I’ve watched you.”

His hand joins yours to guide him to your aching entrance, and when the thick, rounded tip of his cock starts to make room for itself, you let out simultaneous groans of relief when he slides in. A singular smooth, filling and fluid stroke, all the way to the base.

“God yes, just like that,’ you plead, and he’s quick to soothe.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, my girl. I got you. I got you.”

Your mind already lost in a haze of need, the whole-body relief you feel is intoxicating, and yet his fullness inside you is only half of what you want. You want to feel desired, like he wants you just as bad as you’ve wanted him and to feel it, you know you need his roughness. The harder edges of his lust, the ones he’s been holding back from you since you gave birth.

You want to taste desperation in his kisses, to feel it in his hold, to have him force it into the slick fist of your cunt because he just can’t help it - and you get what you want the second he starts moving.

“I can’t believe you wore this for me,” he breathes above you, his hand catching the edge of the silk to pull it down and expose both your breasts. He watches them bounce for a moment, moving with every thrust of his hips and then he bends to latch his mouth onto one, the hard suction of it making you moan. Cradling the back of his head, you push yourself into the sensation.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, and all mine. All for me. Ain’t that right?”

His hips rock against yours, the tip of his cock sliding against that deep spot that’s been aching for him all day and you push your head back into the pillow, forcing your hips up to meet every one of his downward strokes.

“God yes,” you pant. “All yours. Only yours.”

“S’fuckin right. My girl. Lookin’ this pretty just for me.”

He brings his mouth down next to your ear as his hips keep moving. “Pussy this wet, just for me.”

You nod, and fitting his face into your neck, he rewards you an open mouthed kiss laced with a groan. He sucks at your skin, his teeth dragging over your pulse and then his mouth finds yours, forcing it open just like he’s forcing you open to take everything he’s giving. Every weighted stroke, every full push inside.

You like his words, but you like this just as much: when he’s so focused on how you feel around him and underneath him that he can’t speak, and you get to swallow his harsh pants and low grunts instead.

Your thighs hitch higher around his torso, your ankles resting on his back and you can feel his muscles shift and flex under your heels, working, working, working. The intensity of your release builds, a fire that’s been banked all day finally being stoked brighter and hotter and he picks up his pace, his arm pushing underneath your back to hook his hand around your shoulder, keeping you in place beneath him. Buried under the weight of his body, you relish being used.

Still just as sensitive as when you were pregnant, fast - so fast - you feel the first ripple of your oncoming release wash over your skin.

“You’re gonna make me come,” you plead, trying to keep quiet.

“Come on, honey,” he encourages it, pressing a thick kiss just under your ear. “Lemme feel it.”

Everything tightening between your hips, a syrupy warmth fills the bowl of your pelvis until it’s too intense and overwhelming and filling — and then it bursts bright and wet, your thighs squeezing his torso as he grunts through every rough stroke that sees you through it.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl,” he groans before kissing you. He pushes in harder, faster, pounding into the slick fist of your sated cunt.

“You want another one?” he asks, breathless and panting, the curl of a smug smile at the edge of his mouth. “Think you can do it again?”

You can’t speak, your mouth parted in a fixed shape as you focus on how he feels inside you right now and when he slips a hand underneath your tailbone to angle you just right, he focuses his strokes downward, causing you to cry out.

“Shhhh, honey. S’okay. You can take it. Gimme another one.”

His voice is lost in the fuzzy edges of your mind, the only thing coming through the soothing tone as he makes you take what he’s giving and when you start to lock up underneath him again, the smile on his face this time is more apparent than the first one. When you start to come, he looks almost proud.

Your nails dig into the meat of his ass, forcing him deeper and he bends and bites the underside of your breast as he picks up his pace. His hands bunching in the sheets, he fucks you harder, faster, and when his hips begin to stutter in their rhythm, you know he’s close.

“Goddamnit,” he groans when you come around him, never stilling in his movement above you.

Frantically needing him to feel as good as he just made you feel, you dig your hold into the meat along his ribs and hold him in place above you, your hips pushing up to work against his. Matching his every stroke down with your own, his eyes shut tight against the sensation he tries not to give into.

“I’m gonna come inside you if you don’t stop,” he warns, the words a tortured groan.

Knowing you can’t do that, you move quickly underneath him, pushing your hands against his chest until he lifts just enough for you to frantically slide down the bed. His slick, stiff cock drags up your belly and along the plane of your chest, brushing against your chin right before you take it into your mouth and when you wrap your lips around it with a firm suck, the groan he lets out is loud and involuntary, his hips bucking forward.

His hand buries itself into your hair, his fist pulling painfully at the roots when he pushes himself in down to the base and you feel his belly jerk with a tremble right before he pours hot and sticky along the back of your tongue. His release is endless, filling your mouth as he stretches out rigid next to you and you swallow every single drop, your throat working as you hold him close.

Working the dregs of it out with a slow roll of his hips into your face, you finally pull off when he relaxes into the mattress with a soft groan. Peppering kisses along the tops of his thighs, you slowly ascend the body you’ve been aching for all day and his hands run lazily over your skin, making room for you to crawl into bed beside him.

“That was…somethin’,” he sighs, a slow spreading smile gracing his face when he turns his head to look at you and you prop yourself up on your elbow, running your fingers through the hair just under his navel.

Catching your hand, he brings it to his mouth with a kiss.

Laying in silence together, the sounds of the night filter in through the open window on the soft breeze that tickles your sweat damp skin. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent you’d been dreaming about all day straight from the source and your bodies slowly relax together, entwined.

When you feel his breathing even out into a slow rise and fall, you peek up at his face. Taking a moment to admire the profile of his nose, his long dark lashes, the gray gathered at his temples, you run the pad of your thumb across his bottom lip in a feather light touch. In his sleep, his lips purse as they chase the sensation and you smile, the movement so like June when you do the same thing to her.

Leaning forward to give him one last kiss, you reach over him and turn out the light.

#joel miller #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader

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