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entitled-fangirl · 4 months

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His betrothed.

Barty Crouch Jr. x reader

Summary: The youngest Black sibling is getting near courting age. Regulus and Barty have a plan, and Sirius doesn't like it.

Warnings: the Black family literally, cursing, siblings fighting, idk

Author's note: I wrote this while I had a fever, so if it's horrendous, let's not judge :|

Part 2!

Masterlist

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"Siri…?"

Sirius turned his head to look over his shoulder.

Sweet little Y/N Black was standing behind him with a worried look in her eyes.

Being the caring older brother he was, he pushed James slightly, making room for her to sit next to him at the Gryffindor table of the Great Hall. She accepted, sitting down gently, her expression never changing.

Remus saw the look as well, and seemed to be just as concerned, "What's going on?"

They weren't the only two marauders concerned. In fact, they all were.

When Sirius' sibling Y/N was sorted into Gryffindor, Sirius had physically cringed. He couldn't stand seeing his darling little sister go through the Black family's mental and physical abuse due to her house. At that point, away from Walburga's watch, the marauders had taken the girl under their wings. During the summer, she still remained in the Black household at Grimmauld Place with her twin Regulus. But during the school year, she was raised by Sirius.

Hence, where this situation had come from.

James threw an arm around the girl's shoulder, leaning close to her ear, "Whatever it is, you can tell us. That's what we're here for."

She simply stared at the plate in front of Remus across the table.

The four boys stared at each other, worried and unsure of what to do at this point.

Her small voice came out, "Mum is having me go to my first… meeting…. This winter…"

Sirius' hand had a steady grip on his fork, his knuckles turning white. His voice was low. Scarily low, "What."

Remus leaned forward to him, "Pads, control yourself in front of everyone."

Sirius' head lifted to him, "I would, but she's 17 fucking years old. Too young to be staring this… this shit…."

The girl remained unmoving, James' eyes never leaving her, "Y/N…?"

A small sigh came from her lips, "that's not all…"

Sirius looked as if he would explode. "Not…all?"

Peter finally peeped, "Is everything going to be okay?"

She looked up at him, "I'm not sure…"

Sirius rubbed his hands over his face before leaning on the table, "Alright, sweetheart. Tell me."

"Mum is… well… setting up… alliances…"

Sirius knew what that meant. Merlin, he knew what that meant. And he was angry. Beyond angry.

Remus' eyebrows furrowed, "…alliances?"

She nodded, her frame getting smaller as if she was shrinking into herself with every word, "It's…. Well it's when-"

Sirius interrupted, "Mum's marrying her off."

The table went silent, each boy trying to come to terms with what they had heard.

Finally, Peter spoke up, "to…. To who?"

All of their eyes were on her. Well, almost everyone's eyes.

She shrugged, "Mum hasn't told me yet."

James, who had been staring off past the siblings to a different table, was holding a slight smirk to his face. "I bet I can tell you who it is."

Y/N looked up to him with teary eyes, her emotions finally getting to her, "Who?"

His eyes never left the person, his head moving as if to point in that direction. Sirius and Y/N followed his gaze.

Barty Crouch Jr. sat at the Slytherin table, his eyes flickering up in her direction every few seconds. When he saw the entire table looking in his direction, he quickly looked down at his food, as if forcing himself to not look up at her again until they looked away.

Sirius' voice was practically a growl, "It's. Not. Gonna. Fucking. Happen."

James sighed, "I don't know if you get a choice, Pads."

Remus looked up at Y/N, who was near tears. His hand reached out, grabbing hers from across the table, "Hey. Are you alright little dove?"

That was their name for her. Little dove. She was no animangus. But, hoping to make her feel included, they had given her a name during her 3rd year. And it had stuck ever since.

She shrugged, her bottom lip quivering. "I'm not sure."

He nodded, "That's alright. We'll figure this out… Pads?"

Sirius was in his own world. His eyes flickered around the room at every person, as if anyone could jump out and take her from them.

When Regulus entered the Great Hall, Sirius immediately jumped up, walking to him. "Regulus…"

Regulus stopped, confused. Sirius never spoke to him unless it had to do with Y/N. "…what."

"I want you to tell me what the fuck Mum is doing to her."

Regulus sighed, "Let's…," his eyes wandered around, "Let's get away from listening ears."

…

"What the hell, Reg?!"

"Hear me out, Sirius!"

"No! You're letting Mum marry her away like a piece of fucking meat-"

"-THAT'S NOT TRUE!"

Sirius went quiet. The only sound in the hall was the occasional student that walked a few corridors over. His voice finally came out calm, "What… what do you mean?"

Regulus sighed, "It's… complicated."

"Yeah, I can fucking tell…"

"Crouch…," Regulus looked like he was ready to get hit by his brother, "he asked."

Sirius' eyebrows furrowed, "Asked for what?"

"Sirius, please. Don't make me spell it out."

"He asked for Y/N?"

Regulus nodded, "He's liked her for the longest time, really. Since I can remember. And when Mum mentioned that she was going to make arrangements for me soon, I panicked knowing she'd be soon after. I told Crouch, and he said he'd happily marry Y/N. And I helped him win Mum's favor." He looked back up at Sirius, "Look. Don't judge me. I'm doing what's best for her."

Sirius scoffed, "'what's best for her'? What's best is getting her away from the hellhole we call our family. They don't fucking deserve her. Marrying her to a fucking death eater, Reg? Not the brightest idea you've had. Merlin…"

Sirius slowly began to walk away until Reg spoke up again, "I thought it through, Siri. Swear to God."

The 7th year stopped, turning around once more, "…how?"

Reggie sighed again, "Crouch… he's… he's only a first generation death eater. There's not many responsibilities he has to hold. He's loyal only to himself and those he deems worthy."

Sirius thinks it over, "And would he be loyal to her?"

Regulus let out a small laugh, "Merlin. He is already."

When Sirius didn't answer, Regulus continued, "He may not be close to his father, but… it gives her options. If they decide to run away, he can protect them. And if she decides just to leave Bartimus, then his father could protect her on his own. Crouch brought it up to Mum as a way to give more connections between the death eaters and the Ministry. But, we both know. It was for her protection."

Sirius was staring to be slightly shocked at his brother's reasoning, "I…. Okay?"

Regulus gave a final statement. "And He'll treat her well, brother."

"How can you be sure?"

Reg shrugged, "Don't believe me? Make them interact. You'll see. He's like a loyal dog. He'll do anything for her."

Sirius sighed, "I should wring your neck. But I won't. Because you've thought this out so well. I won't say I'm agreeing with it. But… I'll let it grow a bit. To see where it goes."

Regulus smiles, "That's all I ask, brother."

….

Sirius entered the Great Hall once more, sitting in his spot with a huff. At this point, James is gently running his hands through the girl's hair. She's talking to Peter and Remus over an omelette, her mind far from the previous conversation.

He interrupts, "We're talking about this later. The four of us."

She turned, "Not me?"

Sirius' tone turned condescending, his voice harsh, "When have you ever been a part of the four of us? You're not a marauder."

James' hand in her hair immediately paused, Peter dropping his fork clumsily. Remus choked on his drink. But none of them said a word in her defense.

She stared at her brother with a guilty look that slowly morphed into slight hatred. Her voice was still as soft as always, but it held a bite to it, "Fine. I didn't want Mum to know I'm around the Black family traitor anyway." She stood up, leaving the table without another word.

Remus stood up, watching her go, "Dove?"

But she had already left.

She approached the Slytherin table, her red and gold tie standing out from that side of the room.

And Barty Crouch Jr. was already looking for her, noticing her leave from the Gryffindor table.

She stood behind him, quietly trying to speak up, "Excuse me?"

Barty's eyes closed. Her voice was so sweet. He never got to hear it. And she was trying to speak to him. This situation couldn't be better.

He turned around on the bench, a small smile gracing his face and a happy look in his eye, "Hello. What do you need?"

She pointed to where Regulus always sat, "Could I… maybe…?"

He looked over to the spot next to him before immediately, "Oh. Yes. Please."

She sat, finally taking note of the people around him. The most notable one being Lucius across the table.

Lucius held an arrogant look in his eyes, "What? The blood traitor finally got tired of you too?"

Barty's jaw clenched, "Watch your tone, Malfoy."

Malfoy snickered, leaning forward. "Why are you here, Black?"

Barty was becoming highly irritated, "Hey. What did I fucking say?"

Lucius held his hands up in a surrendering way, not saying a word, but his eyes were saying more than his mouth needed to.

She stood, "I'm sorry. This was a dumb idea…"

Barty grabbed her wrist. "No, please. I want you to sit."

She hesitantly does so.

A silence falls over the table before Barty breaks it, "Regulus hasn't been back since Sirius drug him out. Think he beat him up?"

She laughs, "No. I'm sure that just had a small fight is all."

Barty smiles, "I have a feeling I know what it's about."

She nods, deciding to avoid the subject. "Do you have classes today?"

He nods as well, "Just one. Potions. Tell me yours."

She pulls out her wand, waving it. A small piece of paper lands on the table, her entire schedule written on it. She begins to study it to give him an answer.

He leans over to her, peering at it slightly over her shoulder. He smiles, "You have astronomy tonight?"

She nods, "It's my favorite."

He points at one of the classes for the day. "I know where that is. Why don't I walk you?"

She shakes her head, "You don't have to. I know where it is, I just-"

His voice was a whisper, "-please. I would love to."

She decided to look at him finally, and when she did so, she found their faces to be inches apart, his deep brown eyes staring longingly into hers. She felt her face heat up, a light pink shade overtaking them. They stayed this way for a while before she decided to talk first, her voice softer than a whisper as she caught him staring at her lips, "Do you really want to marry me, Crouch?"

He smiled, "More than anything."

The moment sat for a while before she looked away, now a deep shade of red. "Perhaps you can walk me to class then."

"And a walk after dinner."

She looked up at him, "…a walk?"

He nodded, "Please."

He points at another class on the paper, "I can walk you to this one as well… if you'll have me?"

Her eyes soften as tried to see if this was a joke. If he had an ulterior motive. But he didn't.

Regulus came up from behind, completely unnoticed until Y/N felt a kiss to the top of her head and a small, "scoot over."

She did so, pushing herself closer to Barty, who held a smile on his face the entire time.

Regulus could feel the stares from the Gryffindor table. He looked up to meet their gazes, smiling in an almost mocking way at the sight of the two betrothed finally bonding.

She was still looking at Barty, "I…. Yes. I would…. I would like that very much."

He nodded, "Then it shall be done." He stood up, grabbing his books next to him, "I must get to potions, but I'll meet you by the Gryffindor common room entrance before your class, yes?" When she nodded, he gave a nod to her brother, "Regulus," then took his free hand, grabbing the girl's hand, kissing it gently, "Y/N." And with that, he left.

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rebee-sweetie · 3 months

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A/N: I’ve had this smut idea on my mind for a while and I’ve come to share! So, here’s my take on a reader with a bird-like quirk. As always MDNI! 18+

Bakugo x Bird Quirk Reader

Word count: 3.5k

You’re a Pro-Hero in your mid-20s who is good friends with Bakugo, Kiri, and Deku. Part of your quirk was inherited by your parent, the appearance of a mourning dove. Beautiful light grey wings with an underlay of white feathers. Soft eyes like a dove with a voice to match. You’ve acquired the nickname ‘Angel’ from your innocent-looking appearance, making the endearing nickname your hero name.

The season was springtime in Japan, with light rainfall continuance. The forecast predicts the same weather day by day, rainy and gloomy. The rain would’ve been nice, the gentle patters against the glass of your condo. The dark, heavy rain clouds make for perfect napping weather. Not for you though, oh no, your quirk made spring miserable for you. Mating season was just around the corner and it was apparent.

So, there you lay in your bed, fluffing the pillows, bunching up the blankets, and nesting your bed for the upcoming season. Drenching shirts with sweat from the heat within your body, it felt like a hazy fever you couldn’t seem to shake. Constant flush to your cheeks and a lustful glimmer to your dilated pupils. Each spring the need to find a mate becomes stronger and stronger. It screamed at you ‘Give in, Give in.’ Avian instincts were becoming more and more feral. Desire clawing from the inside out. So, you stayed inside your condo, doing your best not to succumb to your instincts and jump the bones of the first man you saw. Patrols had become far too difficult, being around the opposite sex making you lust drunk. The last patrol you had gone on was last week.

The cold rain pelting against your burning skin. Walking alongside Dynamite and Deku, patrolling the streets in the late evening. Streetlights illuminate the black asphalt and the cool mist in the air. At first, it wasn’t terrible to bear, finding things on the patrol to keep busy with. Scanning your surroundings with sharp precision. But as the evening progressed, the streets were quiet. The only sounds are the gentle splashes of rain and the howling wind tunnels in the alleyways. The quiet sounds would be broken up every once in a while, by a passing car ripping through the puddles in the street. As the mist grew thicker and the rain got heavier, so did the need for passion.

You’d find your eyes drifting shamelessly to the bulking muscles of the two men on either side of you, becoming consumed by the idea of being bred and held by thick, muscular arms. All three of you drenched head to toe in the cold, bitter rain. But all you felt was hot, your body being consumed by an unquenched fire. Thighs uncomfortably rubbing each other to find some friction to ease the need. Your brain felt like mush, hot puffs of air gently rolling from your lips. Your eyes scanned the burly blonde walking in front of you now. Bakugo had grown quite large in his adult years, his bigger figure towering over your smaller one. The same could be said for Deku, both men having filled out with muscle and scars. Swallowing thickly as your eyes moved to his solid thighs, powerful enough to crush your body in two. His ass was toned and taught, a devilish thought of squeezing it came to mind. The rain droplets trailing down his exposed shoulder blades bringing images of nails digging into the flesh. Blood rushed to your face as you imagined what he could do to you. The small voice in the back of your head no longer being so quiet, the voice becoming like nails on a chalkboard. ‘Ride him. Ride him!’ The thought of grinding your pulsing cunt into the ripped muscles of Bakugo’s thigh eating you alive. That is until two thick digits were snapping in your face. Bringing you out of your dazed fantasy to the cold, harsh reality of the situation. Both Bakugo and Deku stopped in their tracks looking straight at you. Worry plastered on Deku’s face and annoyance flashed across Dynamite’s.

“The fucks’ goin' on with you?” Dynamite’s cold tone was more bitter than the wind. You could feel your entire body quivering as you stood there, a haze still clouding your mind.

“You don’t look so good, Angel. Maybe all the rain is starting to get to you… it might be a good idea for you to head on home before you catch a cold.” As Deku spoke up you finally were able to get a grasp on your consciousness.

You shook your head quickly, a pink tint spread across your cheeks and nose. “No… I’m fine. Let’s continue, we only have a few hours left until the next patrol group comes in.”

Bakugo’s nose scrunched up to meet his furrowed brow. His eyes practically glowed a deep crimson red in the gloomy night. His heavy boots thumped hard against the pavement as he approached you.

“Okay you idiot, you’re holding back! Spit it out.”

You locked eyes with the spiky-haired man, as he stepped closer to you. His body shielded you from the rain as he loomed over your smaller figure. You had to crane your neck to keep eye contact. His eyes vibrant with a deep color. The heat radiating off his chest finding its way to your face.

“You’re off your damn game Angel.” He grabbed your cheeks pulling your face closer to his, eyes trained on your own, searching for an answer. His large gloved appendage was rough on the soft skin.

“Me? I hate the rain, it makes me fuckin’ miserable. But you? tch, you love the rain. All fuckin’ smiley n’ shit. I usually hate it, but now you acting all damn weird is pissin' me off.”

His voice, was deep and rough, as he squinted down to you. His brow cocked upward, awaiting an answer. But all you could get out were scammers, as his expensive cologne mixed with the smell of wet asphalt and filled your nose. Your eyes were pleading with his, practically begging him to drop the conversation altogether. But all he did in response was scoff, turning on his heel with his arms behind his head.

“Whatever, you damn bird, figure your fuckin’ shit out.” You silently counted your lucky stars and tried to behave the rest of the patrol.

After that, you canceled the rest of your patrols for the next week. Faking up a cough and blaming it on the freezing, wet weather. Leading into the predicament of the present time, pretending to be sick as your desires become harder and harder to contain. Since then Bakugo has tried to reach out and get a hold of you but you let all the texts go unread and the phone calls straight to voicemail. You already knew that Katsuki wasn’t buying your sad bullshit story. He knew something was up, he was too sharp not to. You on the other hand didn’t want to mess up what was good. The friendship you had managed to build with him from your high school days felt so fragile. One wrong move would make the entire relationship crumble, at least that's how it felt. No matter how much you wanted him, you couldn’t allow everything to fall into shambles, he simply meant too much. You didn’t have a chance anyway, he’d bring random women home from bars and clubs. Each one a one-night stand and then nothing, he’d leave them high and dry. That type of pain would be unbearable, not to mention how torturous that would be during a mating season. One time simply wouldn’t be enough. You wanted him to be yours alone, whether it was your quirk talking or your deep dark feelings, you couldn’t tell anymore.

All you knew was that you needed release. Grinding your hips into the pillow, bucking your clit down to get friction. It wasn’t enough. Letting out a frustrated and uncomfortable whine, flopping face down onto the cushy mattress. Something needed to give, and it needed to give now. Shoving a hand under the waistband of the soft underwear as the fabric stuck to your wet cunt. Using the other hand pushing the fabric to the side and slip two fingers inside your plush walls. Whimpering as you began to work your hands into your sex. The rain began to downpour and the sounds pelting the window drowned out your grunts and groans. Then there were three booming knocks. Body locking up at the sound of your front door being berated. Your name echoed through the condo by a familiar voice.

“You think you can fuckin' ignore me? Don’t. take. me. lightly. Open this fuckin’ door damn it!” the last two words being emphasized by three more loud thuds.

Your eyes darted to where the noise had echoed from, your body moving on its own accord. Feet gently pattering against fluffy carpet. Slowly reaching toward the handle of the front door, panting in your lustful haze.

‘Just a taste… only a small taste… He’ll do quite nicely…’ the voice echoing through your ears.

You were too far gone at this point, nothing holding back the sexual desire racing through your veins. Twisting the handle to let the hall light pour into the void that was your entryway, blinking frantically to adjust to the brightness. Then make out the man standing before you. His face was dark and fuming. Ruby eyes sparkling with the most intense color you’ve ever seen. You’d have been intimidated any other time, had you been in control. But you weren’t, eyes half-lidded with a thick hazy lust. Something he’d never seen from you. Now it was his turn to admire the view. Your hair was frantic and stuck to your forehead as sweat trickled down the sides of your face. An old oversized t-shirt and a light blue thong squeezing the skin on your hips. Plush, soft thighs exposed with your slick arousal dripping down the inner fat. Your cheeks flushed pink, panting like a feline in heat.

“Holy shit-“

You took the opportunity to roughly grab his wrist while he was taken aback. Yanking him inside into shrouded darkness as you slammed the door shut behind him. Your lips immediately crashed into his, handing flying up into his hair, scratching at his neck and scalp. The kiss became heated and more intense. When Katsuki finally came to his senses he had you pinned to the wall. Nothing needs to be said, Katsuki catching on very quickly to the situation at hand. Squeezing his rough hands into the thick skin on your ass. Groaning into your mouth as his hands sunk into the flesh. In one quick motion, the slap that landed on your ass echoed in the room, getting a gentle gasp from you and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue deep into your mouth. Fighting for dominance and domain from your own. In a matter of moments, his shoes were off, belt unbuckled, and tank top thrown into the abyss of the room, all while carrying you to your bed. Not once breaking contact. Once in the room, he threw you onto the makeshift nest you had made of your bed. A devilishly cocky smile plastered on his face.

“You know Angel, I always wondered if you had a mating season.” His eyes flickered with something you’d never seen before ruby eyes becoming more of a wine color, “Seems like you do. You’re in an awful bad way, Sweetheart.” His words lingered as his eyes shot down to look at the pooling mess between your legs.

The low husky rasp of his voice was sinful. His deep, rumbling chuckle even more so. Your pitiful state was bringing out a beast. Slowly he crawled on the bed, moving on top of your quivering body. Removing the t-shirt to reveal the ample bosom underneath. Then slide down the curves of your sides to the cotton fabric hugging your hips. His thick thumb grazed over the drenched cloth formed to your sensitive lips. Your hips jolting from the new sensation. Quickly he discarded them and slowly dragged his index through the puffy folds covered in your slick. A quiet whine fell from your lips as your legs trembled. He rubbed gently with his thumb on the bundle of nerves while sliding in two of his thick digits painfully slow. You writhed under his touch, desperate to be filled up by something, anything. A moan parting from you as you felt full. Throbbing around his fingers from absolute need. He slowly began to move and curl his thick digits from inside you, rubbing a little harder on the very swollen nub. Gasping and moaning from the pleasure consuming you. His grin only growing wickedly bigger as he used his free hand to pinch and pull at your nipples. Making your body jolt and stare at him with wide eyes from the unexpected feeling.

“Fuck- you look so pretty like this… I want to hear you beg for me, Angel. I want to see just what this sexy body of yours can do.”

His lips moved to your other nipple, sucking on it, gently pulling on it with his teeth. His long, skilled fingers curled inside you finding that sweet spot in your velvet walls. Bucking your hips into his fingers as his pace increased but only a little. A tight knot starting to become apparent in your core.

“F-fuck… Katsuki! I- I need more! Please, faster!”

Katsuki’s lips tugged into a smile against your flesh as he picked up the pace. Humming in satisfaction at the words. He moved his lips to your ear as his soft lips brushed at the lobe. The hot air makes the hairs on your neck stand on end.

“Tell me Angel…. Just how bad do you want me?”

Your head was swimming, so close to your impending release, heartbeat banging against your eardrums.

“Ah- Kat- Suki! I’ll die without you! P-please! Let me cum!” The words came out strained and needy. Grabbing at the tense biceps, nails digging into his flesh.

Within an instant, the heat building in your core snapped. Eyes rolling back as an intense orgasm rolled through you. Your gummy walls clamped down around Katsuki’s fingers hard. Pulling a wolf whistle from the man looming over you.

“Fuck sweetheart, this pussy is so damn tight. I can’t wait to feel you cum on my cock.”

But the words were drowned out by the white noise ringing in your ears, just barely coming down from the high he had sent you on. Katsuki’s cock thumping like it had its own heartbeat. Quickly undoing his pants with one hand while sucking on your sweet juices with the other. His eyes locked with yours, and his mouth made a hollow ‘pop’ sound as his fingers left the suction. As he freed himself, kicking off the pants to be lost under the bed, his veiny cock was twitching, pre was beading up on his angry head. In one quick motion, his arm was lodged under the small of your back, flipping you to be stomach. Your plump butt up in the air. His calloused hands grabbed roughly into the fat on your hips. Grinding his aching cock between your ass cheeks. You whimpered as he teased your entrance with just the tip.

“Tell me again Angel, just how bad do you want me?”

“I need you- I breathe you Katsuki- no one compares to you, please, I'm gonna die if I can't have you right now.”

That’s all it took, as you uttered the last word, he shoved his length deep inside the walls that sucked him in. A loud moan escaping you echoed throughout the room. Panting like a bitch trying to keep cool all while biting the pillow in your grasp. He couldn’t hold back anymore, slamming his hips into yours shoving your body forward with each strong thrust. He needed you just as badly as you needed him in this moment. Your hands grab at the sheets, nails ripping a hole in the soft cotton. Each thrust forces moans out, eyes unable to focus from the sheer pleasure surging through your body. You were on fire, feeling full from his length. His pelvic bone began to bruise the soft, delicate skin, from the rigorous motion. His veins rub against the spongy muscle group deep inside you. Shifting his hips to go deeper, pushing down on your back to arch you farther. The tip of his head kissing the sweet spot by your cervix, slamming into it with such force. You were seeing stars, hips bucking to meet his thrusts. His groans and grunts played like music to your ears. He hunchs over you to grab your earlobe with his sharp canines.

“Ha- your cunt is so fuckin' tight. You feel so good and you take me so well…” his raspy voice made your pussy clench evoking a moan from his beautiful lips. “If I’d have known how good you felt, I would’ve had you pinned to a bed sooner.”

His thrusting became more sporadic as he felt himself get closer to his high and you could feel your climax creeping up on you. A knot forming in your core again, this time even bigger. You were panting, moaning so loudly you would’ve felt embarrassed if you weren’t so high on pleasure. Your knees threatened to give way as they trembled. The sound of his heavy balls slapping against your sensitive clit. The sounds of sex were lewd and the smell of sweat and musk filled the room. A screaming moan ripped up from your throat as he slammed his hips into yours at the right angle. The knot in the stomach snapped once again, the orgasm more intense than the last. You could’ve sworn you saw God as your vision went white. He snaked an arm around you as your body convulsed, holding you up so you didn’t collapse onto the bed.

“That’s right baby, I’ve got you, ha- cum for me.”

Clamping down around Katsuki, milking an orgasm out of him. Hot, thin ropes of cum being fucked deep inside you. His grunting and cursing were intense as he rode out his high. Filling you to the brim with his length and seed, dripping white from your abused hole.

“Holy- holy fucking shit-“ He panted out, trying to catch his breath. “You fucking milked my damn cock. Shit.”

After a few more breathless moments, he pulled out, grabbing you falling onto the bed, and pulling you on top of his broad chest. Stroking the sweaty strands of your hair as your body shivered every so often with the weakened waves of your orgasm. You nuzzled your nose and face into his neck, finally becoming more conscious of the situation, face burning with embarrassment.

“Oh- oh my- I’m so- I’m so embarrassed…” The words came out meek and small, the way you felt in his powerful arms. “I didn’t mean to get you involved… I’m so sorry…”

You were overwhelmed. The feeling of relief from your needs being satisfied to the feeling of shame from using one of your dearest friends in such an intimate manner.

“Haaah? You honestly think I would’ve done this if I didn’t want to? When have I ever half-assed somethin’?” He pulled you to eye level, squinting with a frown tugging on his lips. “Believe it or not Angel, I like you and I like you a lot. Don’t think I didn’t see how you were drooling over me during our last patrol.”

You squeaked at the comment, not able to keep your glaze locked as you covered your face with your hands. But he easily peeled them away.

“Is this how you are every spring? Is this where you go? You disappear for a while because you need fuckin' bred?”

Your ears burned from the lack of tact in the comment,

“Not bred! Not bred… birds don’t breed like animals… we look for mates, I don’t need a kid, I need dick. There’s a difference…”

His chuckle came out airy as his eyes softened just slightly,

“A mate eh?” A hum rumbled his Adam’s apple, as he thought for a moment,

“I could be your mate if it means I get to experience that sweet pussy some more.” Moving his large hand to stoke your cheek. A cheeky smile finally broke out on his face. “How about it Sweetheart? I’ll make it worth your while. Dick you down real good.”

You found yourself nuzzling back in this neck, feeling bashful. Running your nails along his hot and sweaty skin. Your voice a gentle whisper against his earlobe.

“I want you Katsuki, more than anything, but I don’t want you to leave me when my mating season is over. I don’t want to get hurt… So if you want this too, take me on a date.”

His stroking stopped and he tensed for a moment, processing the words. Your breath hitched awaiting his response. A pit sank to your stomach as the silence brought you unease.

“All you had to do was ask, idiot. Except this isn’t exactly how I imagined this. I was supposed to be the one asking you out.”

Pulling you closer, gently ruffling your soft feathers. A soft sigh expelled from his lungs. His heartbeat thumps slowly against your skin. Cuddling you close in the makeshift nest you had made, pressing a small kiss on the top of your head. Closing his eyes as the rain started to lighten up on the window. Lighting lit up the room and thunder crackled through the sky as it followed shortly after.

“Wear somethin’ nice Angel, ‘m takin' you out tomorrow evening.”

#bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou smut #katsuki x you #Bird quirk #mating season #Bakugo aged up #The Avian Mates

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yawnderu · 7 months

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Seasons Don't Fear The Reaper — Death!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Life!Reader

Ice and fire, acid and stone; life and death. Two complete opposites coming together, forming a never-ending cycle. Your creations will inevitably go to him once their time has come, and you've come to accept every single life you create with your bare hands is a gift to Death.

"My old friend." You recognize the voice immediately, yet your attention is focused on the field of white roses surrounding you, the beautiful lake making his imposing figure look almost majestic. He takes a seat next to you, skull gloved hand lowering the hood of his cloak before his hand is on your waist, holding you close.

"Death." You greet, gaze drifting up towards him, taking in all the details of his bare face, a sight reserved for you only. His brown eyes are focused on you, not feeling uncomfortable by the way you're examining his features.

"You look as lovely as ever." Your bare hands trace the length of his scythe, head leaning on his shoulder as you look up at him with nothing short of raw adoration.

"I got something in your honor." He lifts an eyebrow with curiosity as you raise the sleeve of your white dress, showing a highly detailed black tattoo of the grim reaper, a skull instead of his handsome face. A small chuckle of amusement comes out of him, lips curling up into a small smirk.

"Brave girl." He compliments, smirk growing wider as he lifts the sleeve of his cloak just to reveal a tattoo you've never seen among his existing sleeve— a dove, one wing stretched out, the other one guarding its heart. It was old, healed a long time ago, yet he never once mentioned it.

"Why'd you never tell me?" You ask curiously, hand drifting up to gently caress his bare cheek.

''You didn't ask.'' His hand rests on top of yours, easily dwarfing it.

''Was I supposed to read your mind?'' He simply nods his head, planting a gentle kiss on your palm before his fingers intertwine with yours. His touch is gentle as he changes positions, getting on his knees while his other hand rests on your hip, slowly lowering you onto the soft, green grass.

Simon's head rests comfortably on your chest, your hands coming up to run through his short, cropped hair, a smile forming on your lips at the content sigh coming out of him.

''Do you know what they say? How seasons don't fear the rea—'' His warm hand is gently planted over your mouth, muffling your laugh.

''Don't. Just... Don't.''

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thehighladywrites · 6 months

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The Airhead Chronicles

…and the date

-> pairing: cassian x bimbo/ditzy reader

-> summary: finally the day is here, you’re going on a date with cassian!! now you just have to prepare and get ready for it. Cassian is prepared to finally ask you some questions and the mention of your secret friend rubs him the wrong way. But how does the date go, and who on earth opens the door at Cassian’s friends house?…

-> warnings: suggestive themes, nsfw, smut, super fluff, light angst, public sex, yeah, none of you care about getting caught fucking in a restaurant, oral (m.receiving) , bargain tattoos, almost oral (f.receiving), wing play, daddy kink

-> amara’s note: I think this is one of my fav things to write, I really love ditzy reader, she's so fun and cute.

part 1 part 2

Startled by a sudden knock, you quickly stood up, intrigued by the unexpected visitor. Opening the door, you were met with a smiling man.

“Hi there pretty lady, are you Y/n?” he asked. After exchanging pleasantries, he handed you a paper and a pen, insisting you sign.

Curious, you replied, “Oh, what’s this for, I’m pretty sure I didn’t order anything, or did I?” Sensing your confusion, the man stepped closer and pointed a finger at a dotted line. “Just sign here, baby. How about I come in and show you?”

Normally, you'd agree to some help because you didn’t really like reading long and confusing papers, but with your date approaching, you looked at him apologetic and declined.

“Sorry, maybe next time. I'm getting ready for a date with this really hot guy, and I have a lot of things to do. But why am I signing this?”

His face turned sour, and he threw a bouquet of flowers at you, muttering something about a special delivery before you signed. He left without saying goodbye, and you tilted your head, wondering if you said something to upset him.

The confusion quickly left your mind when you looked down, eyes wide, and heart beating faster as a huge smile spread on your lips. The bouquet was wrapped around white and pink baby breaths and peonies. You let out a shriek of happiness as you spun around and smelled the fresh, fragrant flowers. They were unlike anything else, handled with care and professionalism.

Scurrying to the kitchen, you pulled out a vase from your cabinets as you filled it with water to put your flowers in. While you fiddled with the petals, you saw a note attached as you opened it.

Reading the note, your eyes lit up with excitement. You twirled around, a broad grin on displayed, absorbing the message:

“Can’t wait to see you tonight, beautiful. I will pick you up, just be ready by 8. - Cassian.”

You halted your twirl, taking a deep breath.

Fucking Gods, you had to look absolutely stunnig, like drop-dead gorgeous. The sexiest dress was a non-negotiable, paired with a cute bag. Your hair needed to be freshly styled, and ohhh, a fresh set of nails was a must, even though it hadn't been a week since your last set.

Let’s be real, you knew you were pretty and didn’t need someone to tell you that, but it was nice to hear nonetheless, especially from Cassian. It was weird, you had known him for just over a week and already you felt a connection to him.

With your plans set, you dove into the whirlwind of preparation. The closet became a battleground of choices as you sifted through dresses, searching for the one that screamed "fuck me right now, please." The chosen outfit hung proudly on the door, awaiting its moment. A stunning sheer black dress with a v-neck, a thigh-high slit, and the best part - it sparkled.

Your hair received the full treatment of preparation and care, making you wonder how you’d display it tonight—curls, an updo, low bun or straight? The decision was as crucial as the dress itself, because what if you wanted to blow him? A ponytail would be ideal, but if you were gonna be fucked missionairy then a ponytail would be super uncomfy. Maybe just some curls then? Yes, you definitely wanted some bouncy curls resulting in you pulling out your hair rollers and pins. It was such a pain to put them on because your arms hurt from keeping them up but you didn’t care. Finally, a cute little bag accompanied the ensemble, adding that perfect touch paired with some simple heels.

The urgency for flawlessness led you to contemplate a fresh set of nails. Despite the recent pampering, the allure of perfection beckoned, and you found yourself on the way to the nail salon. After all, a week felt like an eternity when it came to looking drop-dead gorgeous.

As the appointment at the nail salon progressed, you debated between daring and classic shades. The manicurist, familiar to your frequent visits, skillfully crafted a fresh set that made you smile so hard, your face started hurting, letting out an excited sound.

With your nails perfected, you rushed home to continue the transformation, hair and makeup being the last step. Your dress clung to you like a second skin, accentuating every curve. Your reflection in the mirror confirmed your pursuit of drop-dead hotness. Smiling at yourself you adjusted your hair before putting on your jewelry, marveling at the final result. You really hoped Cassian would compliment you otherwise you’d die. His attention was so addicting and you wanted to be around him every single second for some reason.

Glancing at the clock, you realized the incoming arrival of Cassian. The butterflies in your stomach intensified as you added the finishing touches, ready to open the door to a night filled with excitement and allure.

“Hi Cassie!!” Your smile subdued a bit as you shifted nervously when he just stared at you not saying anything. Should you have worn something different? Maybe gone with the pink you wanted? Maybe he didn’t like your hair…

Cassian stood at the door, his eyes widening as he took in your stunning transformation. His brain seemed to short-circuit, and he simply stared at you with his jaw open, momentarily lost for words in the face of your breathtaking appearance. The snug fabric around your frame made blood rush to his cock, a reaction that almost tempted him to slap his own face. "Am I some kind of teenager or something, gods," he thought to himself, caught in the unexpected whirlwind of emotions your presence stirred.

“Hi sweetheart, fuck, you look absolutely breathtaking,” he managed to exclaim, a genuine smile lighting up his face. He spun you around, getting a good luck at you as your perfume filled his nose. Blushing at the compliment, you replied with a happy smile. “Thank you, Cassie. I'm so excited for tonight! Where are we going?”

He offered his arm, and you linked yours with his as you both stepped into the night, ready for the date that awaited. “Don’t worry your pretty, little head about it, it’s a surprise, sweet girl.”

Thank fuck he held you, because you could barely stand with the way your knees wobbled. The urge to just shove him in an alley and give him some life-changing head was just too strong. Cassian looked soooo freaking hot, dressed in a well-fitted suit.His hair had been put in a half bun, arms looking soooo massive, and an inexplicable desire to bite them tugged at your thoughts.

Caught in the spell of his side profile , the world around you seemed to fade into the background. Cassian’s voice became a distant hum as your eyes glued to him.

Your mind went hazy as you found yourself daydreaming about him, captivated by the allure of the moment.

Cassian halted mid-sentence in his talk about the restaurant when he noticed your silence. Curiosity painted his expression as he looked down at you, only to find you hazily looking up at him. Your plump lips were slightly parted, and your eyes were wide and sparkly, lost in a momentary enchantment.

Cassian was going to treat himself to some of Rhysands expensive liquor, it was truly something magical about his restraint. The way you looked up to him made his cock painfully hard. There was something submissive and desperate in your gaze. Before he cancelled the night and took you to his room to fuck you senseless, he broke the silence, chuckling, “I must be boring you with all this restaurant talk. What’s on your mind?”

You blinked, snapping out of the enchantment, and mumbled while feeling warm. “Um, no, not at all, Cassie. I was just… appreciating the view.”

His eyebrows lifted in playful surprise, “The view? Of me?”

You nodded with a secretive grin, “Guilty… I mean I can’t help it. You look so handsome. Now tell me about the restaurant.” The conversation resumed, but the sparkle of that moment lingered, adding an extra layer of magic to the evening.

Your brows furrowed as you read the menu. What on earth was an entrecôte? Foie gras? Was that some sort of joke? It was infuriating and you just wanted some food. Looking up at Cassian, you noticed he had already decided and was looking through the wine list. Feeling helpless, you whispered to him, “Um Cassie, I don’t know what this means. If any of this means mushrooms and cilantro, then let me know, they’re super yucky.”

He took your menu and brought your hand up to place a kiss on it, “Don’t worry, pretty girl. I’ll take care of it. How does chicken sound?” You nodded, grateful for the escape from the decision-making. Ugh, was being pretty and living too hard? You just wanted to exist without thinking about annoying things.

Cassian certainly eased it for you.

“Uh-huh, yes please,” you replied. He tilted his head, a playful smile playing on his lips. “My, what good manners you have. A good girl indeed.”

The echo of Cassian calling you a good girl sent a shiver down your spine, nearly sending you into a dreamy state. Resisting the magnetic pull of his warmth became a challenge.

Would it really hurt though? Cassian had rented out an entire section of the restaurant for your date, the only other person you’d see during the whole night was a waiter who kept away unless he was serving you food.

Unable to resist any longer, you inched toward him, lifting yourself. Cassian, sitting manspread, welcomed you onto one of his thighs. As you settled, his arm snaked behind your back, keeping you securely in place as you slung your arm over his shoulder while the other traced circles and shapes on his chest. The world outside this private bubble faded, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of shared warmth and intimacy.

The waiter discreetly approached, and Cassian smoothly placed the order, his attention never wavering from you. The world outside this secluded moment ceased to exist. He was so content he almost forgot one of the reasons he had been so desperate to see you again. Placing a sweet kiss on your cheek and neck, he asked.

“ I’ve been wondering,” he began, his eyes holding a mixture of curiosity and concern, “ There’s not a lot a know about you, and i’d like to change that. I mean have you always lived in Velaris?” You hummed and answered cheerfully, “ No, I used to live in the Hewn City but a friend helped me move here. My family still live there but they think I live in the Day Court, since Velaris is a secret city and all.”

He observed you carefully, wondering what possible friend could’ve gotten you into Velaris without him or the inner circle knowing? Velaris wasn’t some place one just moved to, it was a secret and protected city, warded against anyone who wasn’t welcome. Your answer only made him more curious.

“Yeah, your friend helped you? Do they live here?” You giggled as you looked at him with a “duh” look.

“Of course my friend still lives here, what a silly question! We meet once a month to catch up and he sometimes brings the family to our get-togethers.”

“ How fun, sweet girl. You’ll have to introduce me to your friend, yeah?” you leaned in as his arm became a comforting weight around your waist.

“Yay, that would be so much fun! He’s like this super old guy that I work for but I promise he’s really funny and his wife is such a sweetheart, I love her.” His heart thundred at the excitement you unknowingly pushed through the bond, making him crack a huge smile. Heavens, your were so adorable, he wanted to see you smile forever. “Is he a good boss then? What is it you do for him?” Flashing him a secret smile, you leaned in conspiratorially as you started playing with the buttons of his crisp white shirt.

“I wish I could tell you Cassie, but it’s tip-top secret and I’m bound to never, ever in a million years tell a single soul. I even have this cool tattoo for it.” You whispered as if afraid anyone would hear you before pulling down the strap of your dress and showing him the bargain tattoo.

Cassian's expression froze, his mind racing to fathom the deal you might have struck. Did you grasp the consequences of Night Court's bargain tattoos? The kind of searing fucking pain that awaited anyone attempting to breach its secrecy? The instincts that come with a mating bond made him feel murdereous at the thought of anyone striking a dangerous deal with his mate.

He didn’t want you experiencing the pain of accidentally telling him about the bargain, so he dropped the subject completely, picking up new things to talk about. While waiting for the meal, you tried to attentively listen as Cassian, the general and commander of the Night Court as he had told you, told you the tales of his thrilling adventures and loving family. But he sometimes used big words that made you tilt your head in confusion, he had however noticed it early on and switched to more simple terms, ensuring your understanding of the topic.

Of all of your years living, you had never felt so safe and cared for as you did here with Cassian. Sure your parents never laid hands on you but they certainly didn’t like you very much, calling you incapable and downright stupid. It hurt you, it really did because you tried but it simply wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Cassian, this gorgeous man, noticed you didn’t understand but he didn’t outright dumb it down for you.

He… just used another word with the same meaning he explained and it really made you happy. Because for some reason, his approval and attention was necessary for you to function and you literally couldn’t imagine him ever being disappointed in you.

After dessert was served, Cassian told the waiter and the chef that you were done eating and paid the bill, leaving a generous tip. They left you all alone in your section and the seclusion made you more bold. You certainly didn’t care if anyone saw you blowing him or anything but… it felt more intimate doing in just for him. You were still sat on his thigh as he spoon fed you the delicious chocolate cake.

Chills ran down your arms upon locking eyes with Cassian, and from your position, you explored his face, fingertips tracing a scar along his eyebrow. Your hand moved over his cheekbones, jaw, nose, and finally, his flawless lips. Drawing close, you both whispered intimately, “Can I kiss you, sweetheart?” he rasped, to which you replied in a hushed tone, “Yes, please, Cassie.”

With a tender murmur he said, “my perfect girl,” his soft lips met yours.

As the kiss unfolded, time seemed to slow, encapsulating you both in a world of shared warmth and intimacy. Cassian's lips, soft against yours, the room faded away, leaving only the electric energy between you two. You had kissed plenty people before, but nothing felt as addictive and pleasurable as this.

Cassian’s body shaped perfectly against yours as he pulled you on his lap, making you straddle his hips, legs on either side of him as your dress bunched. His hair was pulled out of his bun as you dragged your manicured nails across his scalp.

He out out a groan as his hands found your hips, his hold tightening as he ground upwards making you moan at the contact.

Breaking the kiss, Cassian's eyes held a newfound tenderness and hunger. “You're something else, you know that?” he whispered, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and affection. A shared smile lingered between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken emotions that had just passed between your lips.

A loud shatter was heard as you looked up panting, absolutely forgetting that you two may have a section rented out, but you were still out in public and if anyone wanted to stretch their legs, they certainly wouldn’t miss you grinding in Cassian’s lap, lips puffy and hair tousled.

Cassian couldn’t have cared less even of he tried to. Being the lord of bloodshed, the general leading the armies of the night court, and one of the greatest warriors in the history of Prythian granted Cassian liberties in his eyes. Unlike ordinary fae males, he wasn't restricted from openly displaying affection for his mate at any time or place. There wasn’t a person on earth that could tell him what to do with you.

Fucking in public didn’t scare him or make him feel embarrassed. No, Cassian fucking loved the thrill of being caught. Loved the little voice in his head telling him that someone would be walking in on him pleasuring his mate, your face scrunched up in pleasure as someone catches you, your heartbeat quickening at the taboo scene.

But he’d never in his life put you in a position that made you uncomfortable, he’d rather chop his cock off. So he looked at your face, searching for any fear.

“You okay? Wanna stop, baby?” The thought of you getting off his lap and feeling shame or embarrasement was enough to make him feel nauseous. But that all quickly left when you looked down at him with blushy cheeks, a wide grin on your face as you laughed. “Wow, that sounded really close. Guess you better fuck me quickly Cassie, we wouldn’t want someone to catch us, now would we? I mean that would be soooo bad and we’d be kicked out, right?”

Cassian easily detected the false concern written all over your face. There was a blend of amusement, warmth, and hunger in your expression. You playfully pouted, furrowing your brows in mock thinking as you tilted your head.

Looking up darkly at you he flashed you a feral grin, furrowing his brow in mock thinking. “Of course. It would be very, very bad if someone caught me with my head between your legs, I mean whatever would we do?”

You stood up, hopping up on the table in front of him, propped up like a post-dessert treat with your legs spread infront of his hungry gaze.

“ Let’s find out. I think you missed some of your dessert, baby. Come eat me up, Cassie…” He put his hands around your ankles as he removed your heels, then hissed when he felt your stocking-clad foot rub against his strained cock. Your eyes caught his wings ruffling as curiosity prompted your question.

“Cassie, why are your wings so big? Can I touch them or would it hurt?”

His wings rustled, then tightened in instinct. Illyrian wings were absolutely not to be touched by anyone without invitation, they were to be protected at any cost. His people had been taught to never let anyone get close enough to them, often punching first and then asking questions if someone ever touched them.

“No, sweet girl, they wouldn’t hurt if you touched them. It’s just a sacred part of me that I as an Illyrian protect with my life.” You observed the intricate patterns on his wings, fascinated by the interplay of light and shadow, gold and read hues swirling.

Cassian, sensing your curiosity, continued, “Touching them is a privilege reserved for the one I’ll one day trust deeply, a gesture of profound connection between two mates.” His gaze held a promise, hinting at a deeper connection yet to unfold. You slumped slighty as you realized that you probably weren’t his mate and quickly lowered you rising hand.

“Oh, okay then. They seem really cool anyways, your future mate is quite lucky huh?” Your eyes met his own filled with longing and hope.

Growing up in The Hewn City, the stories of mates filled your imagination, creating a yearning for a connection forged by The Mother Herself. However, your parents swiftly dismissed any ideas of such fantasies, emphasizing a more practical approach to your future. The concept of a deep, equal partnership and lover was a cherished daydream, overshadowed by the reality your parents presented.

Amidst gossip with friends about the mysterious idea of mates, your parents insisted on abandoning these fairytales. Their focus remained fixed on preparing you for a marriage that would secure wealth and influence, mirroring the traditions of countless pairs in the city. The prospect of bringing shame to the family loomed as an unthinkable consequence, one that could lead to disownment or in some cases death.

You were incredibly fortunate to have made a friend that helped you out, otherwise you’d probably be some unhappy bride whose only task would be baby-making and keeping quiet.

Your eyes filled with tears as you started thinking about the male infront of you. If the bond hadn’t snapped for you yet, then you probably weren’t mates and it made you sick thinking that there was someone else out there who’d snatch Cassian up. A hand brushing up your calf brought you back to reality as you were met with eyes filled with worries.

“No, hey, what's going on, sweetheart? Why are you crying, hm?” Cassian asked, concern etched across his face. Overwhelmed by sadness, you slumped forward, letting out deep sobs.

"Don't think m’your mate, Cassie. I really, really wanna be with you forever, but you'll probably choose your mate if they ever come along. Also, I probably have a mate somewhere, and I feel like we shouldn't keep going because I'm falling for you, like really hard, and I really don't think I'd survive it if we ended things before they even really started.”

Your wrecked sobs made him sick with guilt. The realization that he was the cause of your tears hit hard. His hands found their way to your back, gently caressing it as he tried to provide comfort. Unable to bear it any longer, he blurted out the words before more sobs could escape,

“ I’m your mate. I felt the bond snap the first time we met, baby. I didn’t want to you to feel like you had to accept the bond or feel pressured to discover it. I wished for you to find out on your own, at your own pace. And I’m truly sorry for the pain i’ve caused you. If I had known this was something you really wanted, I would’ve told you straight away, sweet girl. I was wrong to assume and I’m deeply sorry. Please forgive me?”

Cassian’s words hung in the air, a revelation that shifted the atmosphere between you. Stunned, you looked up, eyes searching his for any sign of anger or irritation at your sudden breakdown or any deception. His gaze, however, held a sincerity that echoed in the depths of your shared connection, held a mix of pain, guilt and sadness paired with hope.

“You’re really mine? My mate?” the question was carried by your whispering voice. Cassian nodded and confirmed,

“Yes, i’m yours as you are mine.” The words triggered that golden bond, snapping the thread of life and love deep in your chest. Holding a hand to your chest, you looked at him breathing deeply.

“Mate. You’re my mate!” you shrieked and kissed all over his face, ending with a big kiss on his lips, making him laugh.

“Um, so can i now touch ‘em?” you questioned as you nodded your head in the direction of his massive wings. His back straightened and he explained,

“My wings have never been out during intimate encounters with females. It makes me feel vulnerable and I don’t like it. But for you… for you I’d pluck the stars from the night sky if you asked me. Go ahead, sweetheart but be careful they can be quite-”

He didn’t even finish his sentence when he felt your warm hands caressing the ridge of his leathery wings. Cassian twisted in his seat when you went over a certain spot. His whole body flashed with warmth, leaving a trail of goosepumps as his stomch flipped.

His face revealed delight, accompanied by low groans as your nails traced over the delicate wing. Intrigued, you inquired about the sensation. He leaned in, softly blowing air near your ear, eliciting goosebumps and a slight arch in your body.

He knew he’d come undone if you kept touching him so he picked you up, swept everything away from the table and put you on your back. Perhaps he should’ve been more quiet because when the waiter hurriedly came to check on the broken dishes, he received a savage snarl, so unlike the usually levelheaded male.

“ Get. Out.” Your mate gritted towards the poor fae. He’d make sure to leave another huge tip, but he didn’t have time to think of it now that the bond was so fresh and there was a male staring down his half naked mate. Cassian finally turned his attention to you when you grabbed his cock through his slacks.

“ c’mon mate, need you so bad, please.” you grabbed the back of his head, smashing his lips against yours as you whined and mumbled about needing his cock inside you. Any sort of foreplay was out of the question, you’d play later. You felt like you might literally die if you didn’t feel him closer to you right now.

You were consumed by an overwhelming desperation, feeling as if you'd burst out of your skin without his immediate presence. The ache for more of him intensified, a desperate longing for his touch to ravage you entirely. Tears welled in your eyes as you begged, desperate to be fucked right there, yearning to be claimed by your mate.

The desperation in your voice spurred cassian on as his hands skillfully removed his belt, pulling out his hard cock as he slid in and out, again and again and again. Rocking the table as he thrust into you hard, filling you up deliciously. Your mouths found each other in a deep kiss as you pulled his hair, earning a deep groan.

“You’re so fucking beautiful all spread out for me. My precious mate,” he mumbled against you.

“mmh, harder please- fucking me soo gooddd” You moaned. The pleasure was building up in your belly making you squirm against him “Please, daddy, let me cum.”

He halted all his movements, pulling you out of your bubble of pleasure. Why did he stop? You felt your high fizzle down as you felt tears in your eyes. “Cassie, why did you stop? I almost finished… s’not fair” you whined, crossing you arms as you looked away, feigning disbelief and anger.

You seriously hadn’t noticed what you called him? Were you fucked out already? Well, whatever. Cassian’s ego boosted immensely at the fact that you had mindlessly called him daddy.

“You’re so good for me, such a beautiful, beautiful girl. My mate makes me proud.”

His praise made you simultaneously melt against his body yet tighten around his cock as a new rush of slick gushed out of you. Bringing his one hand to your nipple while the other played with your clit, Cassian was determined to make you cum then take you home. It had to be your house because he really couldn’t promise he wouldn’t attack Rhys or Azriel if they laid their eyes on you, let alone saw your vulnerable, fucked out state.

The simultaneous pleasure made your head spin as you grabbed his arm to steady youself.

“feels..” you swallow the glob of saliva pooling on your tongue. “f-feels s’good, daddy. m’gonna cum…” His thrusts didn’t slow down as he was met by your relaxed expression - your eyes had crossed as your tongue lolled out a bit, making you drool. A few more pumps and he felt his knees wobble with intensity. You screams of pleasure were muffled by his hand as you came.

“gotta be quiet baby, lest someone catches us” groaning out the last part, Cassian pumps once, twice and finishes deep inside with as he slumps forward, head nuzzled against your neck, breathing in your intoxicating scent.

Driven by the fresh mating bond, he succumbed to a primal urge, covering your naked and relaxed form. Desperation fueled his actions, and protective instincts surged as he struggled with the dilemma of getting you home without causing harm, his every move tinged with the urgency of preserving your safety.

Wanting more, you pull him closer and wrap your legs around him. “daddy, i want more. please let’s go home because the table is kinda uncomfy n i wanna be on my bed instead.” Hands slither around you, pulling you up with as you clung to him. He drops a stack of money on the table to cover what he destroyed plus an appreciation for leaving him alone, gods know he would’ve shown no restraint if that waiter had been a little more bold.

“ s’okay cas i got this,” the whole restaurant fades into black before a cozy porch is replaced with the murmur of the restaurant. You’d winnowed home but not inside, leaving you right outside the door.

“ Sweetie, is your house warded or are you capable of winnowing inside too?” you shook your head and giggly responded,

“ mm, no, my house is protected from bad guys and only people i want can get inside. My friend fixed it for me, he’s super nice and you should totally meet him sometime.” The mention of another guy leaving your lips was enough for Cassian to make his eyes twitch but you looked so happy so he just nodded in agreement.

Opening the door, you welcomed Cassian into your cozy house. As he stepped in, his widened as his eyes roamed across the spacious hallway featuring a body-length mirror, perfect for a quick self-check before heading out, you told him. The hall led to a spacious living room with high ceilings exuding luxury, and the massive kitchen boasted pink appliances, a charming detail that seemed to define your style, he noticed.

His smile widened as he took in the cutesy and predominantly pink decor scattered throughout the house. It was a unique touch that resonated with your personality. As you guided him up the stairs, he marveled at the size of the home, realizing it was quite spacious for a single person.

Passing by several empty rooms, you finally opened the grand bedroom. The king-sized bed with frilly white sheets and an array of pink pillows dominated the space, surrounded by what seemed like an army of stuffed animals, a table adorned with the flowers he sent you this morning. Turning to the left he say your huge closet with clothes littered over the floor. You ran and closed the door behind you, leaning against it as you let out a nervous laugh, “ oh, that’s just my closet. it’s a bit messy so let’s just not look there.”

You bit your lips as your eyes squinted in the dim light. He looked so delicious and you wanted more. wanted your mate, closer. Despite being mere feet apart, an insatiable need for closeness overcame you. Closing the gap, you kissed him, reigniting the connection that began at the restaurant, determined to continue it throughout the night.

The night with your mate unfolded in a series of intimate moments, he put you in new positions and taught you pleasures you never imagined. His expertise left you in a constant state of bliss, with every moment dedicated to mutual satisfaction. You had slept for about an hour or two before going at it again when he stood up and stretched, the sight enough for you to tackle him and ride him right there on your fluffy carpet.

As dawn approached, you marveled at the fact that you had enough restraint to let him slip away and prepare breakfast. The lingering sensations and shared experiences had created a bond that extended beyond the physical, making the morning after feel like a continuation of the enchanting night. Now you laid in the protective arms of you lover, looking at him while biting your lips to keep from pouncing in him.

“If you keep staring at me like that, we won't leave the house ever,” you looked away from his gaze, blushing furiously.

“Maybe I don't wanna leave the house. I wanna be with you forever and ever, cassie” you whispered, nestling closer and kissing his cheek, a familiar gesture of affection.

He chuckled warmly, deeply and kissed you back before your broke the kiss.

“Cas, you mentioned your friends live here. Can I meet them? You spoke about them like you really, really love them,”you inquired, sensing a shift in the air as his grip tightened around you.

“Another time, sweetheart. Right now, I need you alone. I can't even think about leaving you,” he confessed, his tone carrying a protective intensity.

“Do you know much about the mating bond?” you explained that you knew it was two people fated together in a perfect match but that was all your parents allowed you to know. He nodded and explained,

“A newly mated couple can be very... let's say, unstable. There have been many cool and collected males and females who lost their minds when someone laid their eyes on their mate for too long. Sane people have abandoned all critical thinking wherever their mate is involved. Their first and only thought is their mate’s safety and happiness. People have died for provoking newly-mated. So, please, give me a little time because there's a very likely chance I might kill someone for looking at you a bit too much." This…frenzy will cool down after a while but it’s very intense when it’s so new.”

The gravity in his words conveyed the depth of his commitment and the primal instincts that fueled it.

You were fucked in the head for sure because the realization that Cassian would fiercely protect you, even kill someone for you, sent a thrilling shiver down your spine, an unconventional yet undeniably arousing form of desire.

Without a word, you shuffled down, ready to express your gratitude and desire in a way that words could never fully convey, letting your mouth and hands express your love and gratitude.

—

For almost three weeks, you reveled in the cocoon of intimacy, exploring every inch of each other's souls and bodies within the confines of your shared space. Cassian's presence became a comforting constant, and there wasn't a single room in the house that he hadn’t fucked you in. Repeatedly.

However, the inevitable reality of his responsibilities tugged at Cassian's conscience. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkening slightly as he confessed,

“I hate to say this, baby, but I have to go back. My family is looking for me, and they're worried.”

A pout formed on your lips as the idea of him leaving weighed heavily on your heart.

“You really gotta go?” Your doe-eyes mirrored the sadness and pain of his departure, glossing over in tears at the thought of him not being by your side.

One look into your eyes and he knew there was no chance he could leave you.

“You know what, fuck that. There's no way I'm leaving you. So how would you feel about meeting my family?”

Cassian dropping the idea of meeting his family made you think. Would they like you? He always spoke highly of them, and it got you wondering if you'd measure up. You knew you weren't the brightest tool in the shed or however the saying went but you hoped they'd see something in you that's good enough for him. The old voices of your parents kept echoing in your head.

"You're only good if you keep your mouth shut."

"How did I end up with such a dumb daughter?"

"You’re prettier when you don't talk."

Cassian sensed your unease, and he gently took your hands, looking into your eyes with a reassuring smile.

“Hey, don't worry about a thing. My family will adore you as much as I do. You're more than enough, just the way you are.”

His words carried a sincerity that eased the knots in your stomach. You peppered kisses all over his face and mentally thanked him for the reassurance.

He laughed, kissing you and repeating those reassuring words until it was time to leave. Putting on a cute, blue summer dress, you skipped alongside him, blissfully unaware of the imposing aura he now exuded due to the fresh bond.

As the beautiful estate by the river came into view, you marveled at the picturesque landscape. Holding a homemade cake in one hand and Cassian's hand in the other, you both approached the door.

However, huge confusion struck as your eyes widened upon seeing who opened it.

🏷️ taglist: @justasillylittlegoofyguy

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angelshadowsinger · 1 year

Text

Prized Possession

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Azriel x f!reader 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.3k 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲: fluff!! littlest hint of spice. like a little angst too bc they have a brief fight??? idk

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

You lose something and Azriel gets it back for you.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

im too soft for this pls its too much. i almost made this a smut but i am wholesome and refuse to listen to the little devil on my shoulder. also this is unedited

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

The ground shook as the air cleaved and two bodies fell to the floor from the mass of shadow above. A wave of cold river water surged out, slickening the marble tile with a slight greenish tinge.

You were retching up water on your hands and knees, drenched hair plastered to your face and your neck. A large slice of skin was exposed diagonally across your collar from where the siren had scratched you, a red ring around your wrist quickly turning purple from where it had grabbed you and dragged you under. That was all before Azriel had dove in from the sky, as graceful and lethal as a bullet with his wings tucked tight and limbs flush to his sides. In but a flash of blinding, brilliant blue did he slay the faerie, the life just starting to leave its gaze before firm hands had snatched you and you’d slipped away into the shadows.

Now the shadowsinger was coughing violently, all the while glaring at you as he braced his scarred hands on his knees, heaved over. His large, dark wings were dripping, a mist showering over you as he shook them free of moisture. You could feel his stony stare fixed on you as the puddle on the floor gradually grew, both your bodies dripping.

The moment you regained some semblance of control you were up on your feet and jabbing a finger into the male’s broad chest, a vicious growl emitting from your mouth and your eyes ablaze.

“What the hell is your problem?!”

He had the audacity to look shocked by your outrage, a dark brow scrunching and lips pulling back to snarl something back at you but you were quicker than him.

“I had it, Azriel, what the fuck?”

“The only thing you had was a watery grave,” he instantly barked back, now standing upright so he loomed over you as usual.

Somehow he looked even more devastating fully drenched, his clothes sticking to his lean frame, revealing his rippling muscles to you with every movement. His dark locks were pitch black and curling at the tips, heavy, shiny droplets collecting at the very ends. Hazel was lit aglow beneath that darkness, his gaze lit with some unknown wrath that you didn’t quite know how to place.

It was just plain unfair how good he looked after nearly drowning.

“Fuck you,” you scoffed, even if he was right. The ache in your lungs remained from your lack of breath, the creature having dragged you underwater so deep that your ears nearly popped with the pressure.

You turned away from him as your fingers ran over your chest, toward the spot that your necklace usually laid upon. But now there was only a shallow slice where the siren had swiped it from you, and the tattered edges of your top. Tears welled in your eyes at the barren expanse of skin you felt, but you refused to let them fall in front of the shadowsinger, refused to let your anger turn to sorrow before you were in the privacy of your own room.

“I think gratitude would be more appropriate,” Azriel spoke harshly, still glowering from his position behind you. “You know, for saving your life?”

You whirled around, fists clenched at your hips. “Would you just shut up!” your hiss morphed into a gasp as you trembled with the effort of curbing the sob that tried to escape.

The haughty look instantly dropped from Azriel’s face, his eyes flicking over every inch of you to assess you for any sign of physical damage. When all he came up with was the cut on your collar and the bruise around your wrist, his brow furrowed.

You were shaking, frustration peaking as you ran your fingers through your sopping hair, starting to pace before the male. “I had it, it was right there…” you muttered to yourself, quickly swiping away a rogue tear, praying he hadn’t seen it.

The shadowsinger remained rooted where he stood, watching your display of upset with quiet intensity. After you had paced for a minute, he finally asked, “You had… what?”

His voice was deep as it sliced the silence in the room. The chill of his chambers was now starting to leech into your bones, your arms crossing over your soaked midsection.

You pinched the spot between your brow and nose bridge, willing any nearly-boiling emotions to relax to a simmer, at least while you were still in front of your long-time crush. “Just forget about it…”

You weren’t looking at him so you didn’t see the way his plush lips pursed.

“Forget about what?” he pressed. His persistence forced an annoyed sigh from you, and you shot him a quick glare before continuing your pacing.

“It’s nothing,” you said, trying to shut him down again. You didn’t know why enlightening him of the true reason you were so upset seemed somehow embarrassing. Maybe it was because the male had never shown profound emotion to you and therefore cueing him in on your own felt… too intimate.

But Azriel wasn’t having it.

“If it’s really nothing—”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me.”

You turned again, facing the male before you and gauging his stance. With one look you knew he was not dropping it. Any excuses you would attempt would be futile.

“It took… my necklace.”

You held your breath, waiting for him to explode, for him to belittle you and call you stupid and materialistic and any other insult he could produce. But all he did was stand there, and look at you.

Eventually, he said, “So you’re telling me that you nearly drowned… for some jewelry?”

Your eyes fell from his to the floor. You knew he wouldn’t understand.

“Risking your life for such a thing is extremely reckless and I don’t care to entertain it,” he stated, callous.

“It’s not just some jewelry!” you quipped, standing your ground. You didn’t care if it made you look weak, stupid. Yes, you thought he was cute and funny and usually kind, but this meant a lot to you and you were going to hold your own.

Azriel sighed, stepping closer to you. “I don’t think you understand the value of your life, or the importance of your existence in others’.”

You brushed off whatever that meant.

“It’s the only thing I have left from my mother,” you finally revealed, the words fading softer toward the end. You regretted it immediately, but you knew from the emotion that flashed in his eyes that he had heard it, and there was no taking it back now.

You had never mentioned her to him before, only the fact that she was dead and had been for a long time. And Azriel hadn’t pushed, so you hadn’t felt the desire to give any further detail.

But now he was looking at you with some sentiment you couldn’t quite place. It seemed like… maybe it was… empathy.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

You were surprised by his immediate apology, hadn’t expected it. A somber smile graced your lips and you nodded, gaze drifting down to your feet again, turning to head back to your room to wallow in self-pity. “It’s okay, it’s just a necklace.”

Three steps into your retreat Azriel cleared his throat.

When you turned to look at him he was still standing there, but he now had a little smirk on his lips as he held out a clenched fist. He released his grip and out dropped a small, silver-laced heart pendant, the chain bouncing from its coil around his fingers.

“You mean this necklace?”

Your breath was genuinely sucked out from your lungs, your eyes tearing up as you blinked furiously, unsure if he was really holding your most prized possession.

“Az,” you blubbered, choked up and your lip quivering. “That’s…” Two slow steps and then you were flying into his arms, your limbs wrapping around his torso as you clung to him and laughed.

Azriel stumbled back just slightly, unprepared for your abrupt launch into his embrace. But he quickly recovered, his free arm wrapping around you so your bottom was secured by his elbow, his hand at your waist. He chuckled as you squeezed him, fingers reaching out to stroke the pendant that now lay in his open palm, to make sure it was really here and you hadn’t lost it. Your longtime crush had saved you and somehow managed to sneakily grab your necklace at the same time.

“Thank you,” you sniffed, tears welling up with relief, “thank you, thank you so much, thank you Az.” You whispered it over and over, tucking your face in against his neck, breathing in that soothing cool cedar scent you loved so much.

The shadowsinger was blushing with your proximity and your praise, near giddy from your outright gratefulness. He allowed himself to nuzzle your ear just once, not wanting to toe the line. “Of course, sweetheart… anything for you.”

You sat back so you could look at him, your beaming smile reaching your eyes. Azriel couldn’t help but grin back at you.

“I can’t believe you got it! You’re the best, Az!” you cheered, fingers now resting on his palm, pleased to find the necklace was indeed there and not lost at the bottom of the river.

The Illyrian was basically looking at you with heart-eyes now, not used to such overt flattery. You wiggled in his grasp, totally overjoyed. The display of your content was making his heart feel funny, his icy exterior completely melting for you.

“I’m so happy right now, I could just—”

You planted your mouth on his, hands coming to cup his strong jaw and hold his face flush to yours.

Azriel went stiff, his eyes widening as his grip on you became steel. But you were undeterred, pulling back to plant a few more swift, equally-firm kisses on his lips and then across his hot cheeks and nose.

When you pulled back, Azriel was gaping at you, lips now parted and his cheeks and the tips of his ears a soft, warm pink. Your smile faded as you took in his expression, settling into the knowledge that you’d just assaulted him with a barrage of kisses.

“Shit— I— I’m sorry Az,” you laughed, embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck. “I just— got a bit excited, I guess.”

You shifted so he would let you down but he refused to budge, arm taut around you. His wings were held high and tight behind him, still buffering as he tried to process what you had just done.

Your cheeks were becoming the same shade as his now, and you swallowed, uncomfortable under his intense stare. You weren’t accustomed to being able to look him head-on like this; he usually towered over you. He was so handsome up close, it made your heart drop into your stomach at the thought that you had just kissed him. About ten times, give or take.

It seemed like an eternity had passed before the shadowsinger finally blinked and closed his mouth, his eyes falling to linger on your lips. You felt aflame as you watched his tongue dart out, tasting the spot your lips had just claimed. “That’s alright,” he murmured, the hand that was holding the necklace coming to tuck your wet hair behind your ear, fingertips gliding down your jaw, leaving you wanting more. “Seems like a worthy reward for returning your most prized possession to you.”

Then he was setting you down, your ankles suddenly weak as your feet touched the ground.

“Allow me,” he said and gently placed his hand on your hip, turning you away from him.

You held your breath as the rough pads of his fingers coasted up your shoulder, the familiar weight of your mother’s pendant heavy against your rapidly-beating chest while he secured the clasp. You tried to calm yourself down but it wasn’t happening, your body leaning back against him on its own.

Azriel hissed lowly, firm hands grasping the back of your forearms and holding you out, far from where your back had grazed him. “Careful— you’re not the only one excited here.”

Your face burned and your core stirred at the same time.

“Sorry…” you whispered meekly.

He sighed a soft laugh, one hand rubbing your arm. “It’s alright. You go and run a hot bath, you’re drenched and I can hear your teeth rattling from here.”

You turned and smiled smally, grateful he was offering you an escape. You took extra care in keeping your eyes locked with his, no matter how bad you wanted to look down and see just how excited he was. “Thank you again, Az. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

And with that, you slipped from his chambers, the sound of your wet feet pattering down the hallway.

Azriel watched the spot where you had disappeared around his door, his shadows now surging out and dancing around him with glee, flickering across his mouth to get a taste of you. He didn’t care that he was still dripping wet as he flopped back onto his bed, his fingers coming to trace his lips. He recalled how your mouth felt on him, closing his eyes as he tried to preserve the feeling as best he could.

“No sweetheart,” he spoke to no one in particular, a confession only the stars in the sky would hear, “you’ve no idea how much you mean to me.”

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar fic #azriel fic #angelshadowsinger #my work

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the1975attheirverybest · 11 months

Note

How is he real? How's he not a product of my imagination:((((((

i don't think anyone's imagination, no matter how vivid and powerful, could conjure up something so perfect.

He's...gosh hes painfully pretty.

#x-a-black-winged-dove-x

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yandere-daydreams · 8 months

Text

Title: Domesticated.

Commissioned by the very lovely, very inspired @elsecrytt.

Pairing: Yandere!Satan x Reader (Obey Me).

Word Count: 7.0k.

TW: Dub/Con & Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Reader Is Straight Up A Bad Person In This One, Toxic Relationships, Semi-Public Sex, Bondage, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Coercion, Prolonged Grooming, Mentions of Blood and Violence, Slight Stalking, and Obsessive Behavior. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You were the first one to find Satan.

It wasn’t difficult. You’d been around long enough at that point to know that the birth of a demon was a strange, spontaneous thing; loud and wild, often accompanied by pillars of flame and always violent enough to leave the earth scarred in its wake. While his brothers fell from paradise like stars displaced from their heavens, you followed the cloud of smoke rising from the wasteland that made up the Devildom’s outskirts, tracked the scent of cedar and ivy and sulfur until you found him, seething in a crater of his own creation, freshly charred feathers still littered around him as he lashed out blindly, his aggression without a target but no less volatile for its aimlessness. He was bare save for the ash smeared across his pale skin, and you could make out a lashing tail behind him, a pair of curling horns sprouting from his waist-length hair, a pair of cat-like pawed feet he’d grow out of in a few weeks – all the same shade of black as the obsidian that surrounded him and tipped with a green you could only compare to the color of toxic waste, to the kind of emerald shine an insect might wear to let you know it was venomous. Every part of him practically glowed with rage. If you’d been aware of which throne he would take after he and his brothers found their footing in their new realm in that moment, you would’ve thought it was fitting.

In short, he was beautiful. Awe-inspiringly, breath-takingly beautiful.

And you were never the kind of person who could resist beautiful things.

Carefully, with dampened footsteps and a preference for the shadows, you edged closer to him, never letting Satan leave your peripheral. You were still a hundred or so feet away when he snapped toward you, pointed teeth already bared and curved talons poised to attack. You couldn’t be sure how lucid he was, but whatever happened to be running through that empty mind of his, it wasn’t enough to stop him from snarling at you, from hunching his back and digging his claws into the ground and charging, intent on tearing anything he saw apart before his anger could cool. Elation overwhelmed you. You felt the corners of your lips curl upward as he lunged, your heart practically beating through your chest as his lithe body streaked through the flame-tinged moonlight, as you took in the rabid creature that would be your end. There were sixty feet between you, then forty, and then—

And then, something dark and terrible descended from the clouded sky, tackling Satan and pinning him to the ground. Lucifer, you discovered, once the dust cleared and you could make out his face, his wings (lesser by two and painted the color of impurity, you noted with a not inconsiderable sense of satisfaction). You didn’t wait for him to notice you. Slipping back into the shadows of the wasteland, you stole one more glance toward Satan only to find his attention still fixed on you, unwavering despite his new guardian. Your eyes met his, and without hesitation, you spared him a smile. Of course, he didn’t return the gesture, but you didn’t mind.

You slipped into the night, already dreaming of the day you’d see him again.

By the second time you got so close to Satan, he’d already gained a reputation of his own.

You couldn’t say you weren’t proud. His anger cooled in the months after his conception, and he found a place among his brothers who, in turn, established themselves in the Devildom’s admittedly lax hierarchy of power and pleasure and all the many things that thrived when given reprieve from the harsh light of the sun. You kept your distance. As greedy as you were, you knew better than to get involved with people who knew better than to get involved with you.

Instead, you watched from the crowd as Satan grew into his rank, as the more untamed parts of his demonic nature fell away and he came to resemble something… cleaner, something less animalistic. You didn’t care for the change, but still, you kept track of him. What could you say? Even polished, he was still a gem worth keeping an eye on.

Your dutifulness was rewarded, too. Or, that was what you told yourself, at least, as you picked the lock on the door of the lecture hall where he’d thrown his latest fit, where it’d taken Mammon and Beelzebub’s joint strength to restrain him. You let your fingertips graze past overturned tables and side-stepped the shattered remains of shattered chalkboards and wooden chairs, taking in the proof of his untamed rage as you approached him. He’d been restrained, left to fester in his wrath until he was calm enough to deal with properly. Silver chains adorned with hundreds upon thousands of archaic runes kept him bound to a marble pillar near the center of the classroom, his arms trapped against his side and his more demonic features still on full display, much to your delight.

Despite having been on his own for a few hours, now, his rage had yet to die down. His fangs were still bared, his claws still biting into his own palms, his thorned tail still lashing back and forth behind his back like that of some starving wildcat, agitated that its quarry had been taken away. He only had a fraction of the wild radiance you’d been so captivated by during your first encounter, but still, you found yourself grinning. Even diluted, he was still beautiful.

This time, you didn’t have to mind your distance. You came to a stop less than a full arm’s length in front of him, ducking slightly when the point of his tail made a jab at your throat. “It’s alright, princess,” you started, keeping your voice low, your tone light. Like you were trying to soothe a wild animal – which, to be fair, wasn’t exactly not what you were doing. “I’m not here to hurt you. I just wanted to see that pretty face again.”

He really was so unlike he had been, the first time you’d met. There was a flicker of recognition in those burning eyes, a slight change to his posture. He pressed his back against the pillar, squaring his shoulders as his rabid snarl dulled into a thin scowl. His tail continued to thrash and writhe, but he didn’t try to go for your throat again. “I don’t need your help.”

“I wasn’t going to make an offer.” His eyes narrowed, and you held his piercing gaze for a second, then another, before allowing your attention to drift lower. Surprisingly, his uniform hadn’t been damaged during his rampage, only displaced; his shirt missing a few buttons where he’d torn at the collar, the jacket he always let hang open pushed so far back, it now threatened to fall from his shoulders altogether. What you were looking for lied lower, though – in the unnatural creases and unusual tautness of his pants. It was a common (albeit, no less embarrassing) side-effect of supernatural creatures giving into their true nature, especially for younger demons who never learned how to control their more primal instincts. He probably knew that, but you doubted he knew how to take care of it, just yet. Especially with his older brothers still learning how to handle their own sinful impulses. “I mean, I would be willing to give you a hand, if you need one,” you went on, nodding to his painfully hard cock. “But, if you’d rather seethe and growl in an empty classroom until one of your brothers comes back for you…”

You held up your hands, moving to turn on your heel and leave him alone with his anger, but Satan’s eyes widened, straining against his bondage as he lurched forward, practically drooling at the first hint of fresh blood. “You… you can do something about that?”

The muted excitement in his voice gave away his eagerness, his desperation. You let out a breath of a laugh, taking half a step closer, testing the boundaries before trying to catch such an active spark in your hands. When he didn’t immediately lunge at you, you brought a hand up, cupping his cheek and running your thumb over his jaw. “Of course,” you said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if he was the foolish one for being stupid enough to doubt you. “But only if you ask me to. I’m not going out of my way to help someone who’s going to tear my throat out as soon as I’m done.”

And, even then, you could’ve been persuaded to lay back and let him have his way with you if he begged prettily enough. Luckily, he was already distracted, already leaning into your touch and staring up at you with a new kind of reverence. He couldn’t have known he was doing it – his pride wouldn’t have allowed him to. As far as you could tell, this was all instinct. “Do it.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “You’ll have to do better than that, princess.”

He was quiet for a moment, then another. “Please,” he spat, finally, as if the word burnt his tongue. “Please, help me get rid of it.”

“No one’s going to want to do anything with you if you use that tone.” And yet, you stepped forward, resting one hand on his shoulder while the other dropped to the tent in his pants, to his cock. You ground your palm against his shaft through the thick material, and Satan grit his teeth. He didn’t know much, but he knew enough not to debase himself so willingly in front of you. “You’re lucky I’m such a bleeding heart. Otherwise, I would’ve left you here to suffer minutes ago.”

You watched him try to fight it, clenching his eyes shut as he braced himself, putting more effort into limiting his reactions now than he’d ever spared for his temper tantrums. With deft hands and saliva already pooling below your tongue, you shifted his pants down just far enough to free his cock – hard enough to press into his stomach. Like everything else about him, it was beautiful – pale but not ghastly, visibly veined but not overly defined, the head tinted a deep shade of pink you didn’t know you’d held such a fondness for, before you saw it on him. It was already leaking, too – pearls of precum dripping down his length and smearing against your skin as you wrapped your fist around the shaft and pumped lazily, playing indifferent to the way he bucked and writhed underneath you. “This,” you started, slowly, “is called a handjob. You can do it yourself, too, but it’s not as good. You’ll probably just end up making it worse.”

You swiped your thumb over his leaking tip, and he gasped, pressing himself flush against the marble pillar. You heard his restraints rattle and tightened your grip just enough to distract him, to give him something better to think about than getting away. “Pay attention, ‘cause you’re going to have to return the favor. That’s how this kind of thing works – I help you, then you help me.”

He nodded, sucking in a shaky breath. He wasn’t the brightest thing you’d ever come across, but he still might’ve proven himself to be a dutiful-enough student. “A h-handjob.”

“Good boy.” You teased the head of his cock by way of reward, then ground the heel of your palm into his base as a punishment for making you wait. When you were sure the lesson had sunk in, you took to jerking him off in earnest, taking on a pace just on the brink of satisfying and drinking in the little, stuttering moans that dripped past his lips in response. When his legs started to buckle, you worked a knee between his thighs and slotted your chest against his, staring up at him with as much adoration as someone like you could lend to something like him. You felt his cock twitch in your hand, heard his breathing turn raspy and shallow, and without warning, you pulled away, removing yourself from him completely.

He let out a desperate whine, the embodiment of pitiful. With an airy chuckle, you lowered yourself onto your knees, letting your hands fall to his waist. “This one’s a blowjob,” you muttered, just barely loud enough to be audible. He might’ve been a mediocre student, but you were an excellent teacher – always striving to fill curious minds with as much applicable knowledge as you could. “Some people call it oral sex, too. You’ll like it even more.”

His voice was so weak, so prone to cracking and breaking that in another world, it could’ve been cute. “…sex?”

“We’ll get to that later.” You pressed a fleeting kiss into his hip. “Just pay attention to me, for now.”

He really was lucky to have you. Anyone else might not have been able to handle how roughly he thrust into your mouth as soon as you’d taken the leaking head onto your tongue, might not have been willing to put up with his insatiable desire to bury himself in your throat – unaware or uncaring of your desire to breathe. You were patient, though, and strict, eager to swallow him down as deeply as you were able to before pulling back, pinning his hips down, and running the flat of your tongue up the sensitive underside of his cock. Whatever well of self-control he’d been using to bite back his pathetic little noises had clearly run dry. He moaned unabashedly, throwing his head forward and shuddering. His tail lashed out, his body determined to protect itself where his mind was unable to, but you didn’t pull away as it curled around your arm, didn’t waver as its curved thorns shredded your sleeve and sunk into your skin. Rather, you groaned around him, savoring the pure heat dripping down your arm, the way his agony seemed to drive itself under your flesh and make a home there. It was an overdue paradise, one that paled in comparison to what you could’ve had if Lucifer hadn’t interrupted you on that first night. You tried to treasure it all the same.

You fell into a steady rhythm quickly, no longer in the mood to tease him. You kept your eyes open as you bobbed your head, fixed to his flushed cheeks, his pained expression, the way he couldn’t seem to decide whether he wanted to shrink into himself or struggle against his restraints. “Stop, I—” He cut himself off with another moan, a quick jerk of his head to the side. As if there was anything he could do to hide from you, in a state like this. “There’s something wrong with—”

“You’re going to cum,” you corrected, pulling off of him just far enough to speak. With your lips still pressed against the head of his cock, you added, “That means you want me to keep going.”

If he had any mind to protest, he wasn’t able to put his complaints into words. Instead, all he managed to spit out was a fractured sob as you felt him throb against your tongue, as he came undone in your mouth. You milked him for all you had, pumping a fist over his shaft as he clumsily fucked your throat, his inexperience shining through once his inhibitions had been thoroughly pushed to the wayside. When you were sure you’d gotten everything out of him that you could, when your senses had been overwhelmed by the heady taste of him and the proof of your labor sat heavy in the pit of your stomach, you drew back, pushing yourself to your feet and taking in what you’d done to him. He was a mess, his face red and damp with sweat, emerald scales visible just underneath the collar of his shirt. With a slight smile, you fished something out of your pocket – a small, silver cage that you’d liberated from a succubus’ locker about an hour prior, when you heard Satan had lost his temper yet again. It fit the base of his cock as if it’d been made for him – pressing flush against his skin as it snapped into place with a satisfying click. When you were done, you pushed a kiss into the corner of his lips before stepping back.

“When that starts to get uncomfortable,” you started, grinning. “Come and find me.”

You didn’t give him a chance to protest before slipping away, leaving him panting and half-dressed for someone more tender-hearted to take care of.

He made it three weeks before seeking you out. An impressive lapse, considering he’d been hard again by the time you left that classroom.

This time, you made an effort to keep your distance. No more trailing behind him as he walked with his brothers or standing on the outskirts of the crowd as he picked a fight with yet another low-ranking demon – no, what he needed from you now was separation, the time it would take for him to think to look for you in his peripheral and then, later on, to convince himself the pleasure you could give him was worth the blow it’d deal to his ego. You’d started to lose hope by the time bridged the gap at one of Lord Diavolo’s frequent balls, thrown to celebrate Satan and his brothers ascending to the rank of Avatar. No one could seem to remember there ever being a rank by that name before their arrival, but legislation was for the Celestial Realm. Citizens of the Devildom were always more than happy to sample their prince’s generosity, regardless of the occasion.

You’d just finished slipping a stunning silver ring off of a witch’s finger and onto your own when he found you, red-faced and visibly out of breath, as if he’d just run from one side of the castle to the other. You grinned, moving to speak, but he clearly didn’t have an interest in whatever you might’ve said; taking hold of your arm and dragging you out of the main ballroom by way of greeting. You made no effort to resist. Struggling was for people who wanted to run, people who’d lost control and needed to be somewhere else. You, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine being anywhere but here.

You let haul you down a dimly lit hallway and through a simple wooden door – almost meager, by the prince’s standards. It was a storage closet, as far as you could tell, the shelves stocked with miscellaneous supplies and the light limited to what little could flood through the gaps between the doorframe after Satan slammed it behind him. You didn’t mind it, but you would’ve preferred something a little brighter. You would’ve preferred to have him on a podium, underneath a spotlight, where you could see every last inch of his perfect body. You would’ve preferred to have him on a stage, posed to your preference for the approval of an eager audience. You’d always been charitable, like that.

But, you couldn’t linger on how you would’ve liked him when you already had him right in front of you. As soon as he’d ensured you were alone, he was scrambling to find your hand in the darkness, to press your palm into the outline of his throbbing cock and whine – a sound it’d taken him minutes to make, the first time you were alone together. “I can’t take it off, and—and it hurts.” His speech was frantic, disjointed, prone to slipping and tripping over itself between coherent words. You couldn’t imagine how he’d spent the past few weeks. Even his brothers would’ve noticed something was wrong, if he was always this worked up. “The cage burns when I touch it, and it won’t stop leaking—”

“Ah, ah, that’s enough.” The saint that you were, you chose to put him out of his misery sooner rather than later. “Why don’t you show me the problem?”

At that, he froze up, his neediness momentarily overwhelmed by pure, unadulterated shame. His fangs caught on his bottom lip as he looked away from you and towards himself, his hands shaking ever-so-slightly as he brought them to the button of his adorably uncharacteristic dress pants. His brothers must’ve picked out his clothes – partially, at least. You didn’t know whether to be amused or endeared by the fact that he wasn’t quite ready to make decisions for himself, just yet.

Under your instruction, he stripped quickly, the pieces of his suit falling away until he was left exposed in front of you, dressed only in your last gift to him. Speaking of – his cage was… stranger than you’d remembered it bring, the silver bars pulsing with a dull violet glow. A lasting enchantment, you figured. You should’ve expected as much from something you’d snagged from a succubus, those freaks.

You ran a finger over the curved spine, taking a long moment to appreciate the craftsmanship before you turned your attention back to the source of Satan’s suffering: his cock, already hard and, like he’d said, already leaking. You probably should’ve been more selective when it came to how you restrained him. The flesh of his shaft strained painfully against the bars of his cage, the tip already drooling enough pre-cum to smear on your palm and pool on the floor in between his legs. The poor thing looked nearly suffocated – pale and ever so slightly discolored, sensitive enough to twitch and send a rough shudder up the length of Satan’s spine as you ran your thumb over what little of the underside remained exposed. He only had himself to blame, really. If he’d only swallowed his pride and come to you earlier, he wouldn’t need your help so badly now.

He wouldn’t need to prove that he deserved your help, after ignoring you for so many weeks.

“Poor baby,” you half-cooed, taking his face in your hands and pressing a lingering kiss into his forehead. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to take something so difficult so soon. I’m sorry for making you suffer, like this.”

Immediately, you felt him stiffen. You could only hope it was a habit he’d never grow out of. You couldn’t imagine a version of Satan who was driven by anything other than the ongoing, everlasting need to prove himself and, when that failed, tear down everything that could claim he hadn’t. “I’m fine,” he said, as if he hadn’t been on the verge of tears only a second ago. “I could take this and more, if I needed to. It’s just— you said I would need to find you, eventually, and I wanted to get it over with before—”

“That’s enough.” You were sure he would’ve gone on for the next century if you let him, but you weren’t really interested in what he had to say. Not while he was so put-together, at least. “Do you want my help or not?”

He might’ve been a bad liar, but to his credit, he wasn’t delusional. Shakily, he nodded, keeping his lips pursed and his eyes pleading.

“Is that all you’re going to give me to work with?”

“…please.” He was more hesitant than he’d been the first time, but not quite so acidic, not quite so aggressive. He was begging, now, and you could never seem to turn away those in-need. “I’ll do anything.”

You sighed, the gesture airy and drawn-out. Eventually, when it seemed like his already-tenuous patience was starting to thin, you let your touch fall away from him altogether. “Why don’t you get on your knees?”

His expression fell – not so much disappointed as he was confused. “How will that—”

“I have other things to do tonight.” An expectant smile, a nod towards the floor. “I can’t help me if you don’t help me too, Satan.”

The weight of his given name seemed to do the trick. Slowly, his movements stilted and reluctant, he lowered himself onto his knees, his eyes quickly falling away from yours and find a home in his lap. You were glad you’d chosen to wear what you had – making quick work of the sashing binding your robes together and discarding your panties while Satan watched out of the corner of his eye, too embarrassed to stare but too curious not to look. You were tempted to take him by the hair, to find something to wrap around his neck and pull it tighter and tighter until he was exactly where you wanted him to be, but you couldn’t let yourself be so selfish. You couldn’t let yourself forget to take care of him – even if you could justify putting it off until he’d taken care of you.

With little warning, you brought up a foot and ground the toe of your heeled shoe into the shaft of his caged cock. He hissed, throwing his head forward and shrinking into himself, shrinking against you; his chest pressing into your thigh as he bucked mindlessly against your foot, the lewd act coming to him more naturally than you ever could’ve dreamed. Now, you raked your fingers through his hair, jerking him upward and guiding his mouth to your cunt. His eyes widened, a surprised grunt slipping out of some vulnerable pocket of his chest, but you held him in place. “Remember what I showed you last time?”

He hesitated, but not for very long. There was a slight lapse, a pause as he tried to bridge the gap between your anatomy and his, but after a moment of scraping your dull nails over his scalp, of grinning down at him with as much love and patience as you could muster, he let his eyes fall shut and opened his mouth, his tongue darting part his lips and lapping tentatively over your slit. His next swipe was a touch more confident, and the same went for the one after that, and the one after that. A slight groan bubbled up from the base of his throat, his hands coming to rest on your thighs – his curved talons biting shallowly into your skin. You embraced the spark of pain without complaint. As if you had the heart to interrupt such a valuable learning moment.

It was slow work – as sloppy as it was messy, his enthusiasm barely managing to overshadow his inexperience. You couldn’t tell how much of it was on purpose, if he meant to grind the bridge of his nose against your clit, if there was any rhyme or rhythm to how he drew his tongue over your entrance, but it was savage enough, animalistic enough to draw a shallow moan from your lips, to earn the flattened edge of your heel ground against his cock. It took ages for his tongue to slip into you, the tapered point curling and probing against the walls of your cunt. He was lucky to have been born such a rabid creature, to have been gifted such a pretty face. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be worth a minute of your time.

It was a good effort, but it wasn’t enough. With a sharp jerk to his hair, you pulled him away from you and threw him to the ground, his pointed talons leaving a row of raised skin in their wake. With a startled expression and a fog over his eyes, he blinked up at you, barely bothering to try and push himself up before you brought your heel down on his chest and pushed him flush against the floor. “Stay down.” You flashed him a smile, trying to pretend you meant for it to be comforting. “Don’t you trust me?”

He didn’t answer. You didn’t wait for him to, shedding your robes completely and straddling his waist. His prep work had been… minimalistic, to put it kindly, but you’d never been one to back down from a challenge. You met his eyes, holding his half-lidded gaze as you wrapped your hand around his cock and pulled his cage away as easily as if it’d never been there at all.

You took slow, agonizing seconds to line him up with your entrance, rolling your hips to spread his precum over your slit. He let out a slight whimper, then managed to find his voice. “What… what are doing?”

“I think I’ve already told you about this one,” you said, your smile now genuine. “We’re going to make love, princess.”

In your own defense, you gave him a chance to protest, to complain, to throw you off of him and rejoin his brothers in the prince’s ballroom. You waited a second, then another, and when he failed to do anything more than stare up at you with that pleading expression, you lowered yourself onto him, only stopping when you were sure he’d bottomed out.

You were able to bite back your voice, but Satan wasn’t so skilled when it came to hiding his reactions. His body went stiff underneath yours, his eyes falling shut as a sinful moan trickled past his lips. You heard his breath hitch, felt his cock twitch, and then he was coming undone inside of you, likely marking the first time he’d cum inside of anyone, because of anything but your mouth. You couldn’t help but laugh, drinking in his fractured whines as you started moving, rolling your hips and grinding against him, riding him properly – not that he’d know the difference. “S-stop,” he managed, though little pained noises and blissful gasps. “It— It hurts—”

Overstimulation, clearly. It was amazing, how sensitive a demon so ferocious could be. “You’ll like it once you calm down. Just try to tough it out for me, alright?” With one hand on his chest, you let the other slip between your legs and to your clit, sorely neglected by his earlier guesswork. “I’ve made you cum… how many times now? Twice? I think I get to take a little something for myself.”

If he was capable of responding, he didn’t seem to think it was worth the effort. Instead, he only collapsed underneath you, his talons scraping against the stone floor and his point fangs biting at his own lips while you used his cock as your own, personal toy; as something to be played with but otherwise left on the outskirts of your consideration. While he might’ve been willing to fuck anything you put in front of him, you held yourself to higher standards, seeking out whatever made heat pool in your core and that aching knot in the pit of your stomach draw itself that much tighter with a refined sense of determination. You’d known how pretty he was, but there was a different kind of beauty to the way he looked writhing below you, to the pitiful sounds he made every time you clenched around him or moved in a way that threatened to milk his cock – still hard, despite his whining, still needy – dry. It was clumsy, little more than reflex winning over dower rationality, but he tried to move his hips in time with yours, to seek out the heat of your cunt whenever you threatened to pull away and abandon him completely. Not that you were going to. As pathetic as his sensitivity was, you weren’t much better – the anticipation you’d built up in his absence more than enough to make up for his inexperience. Your climax rolled over you in thick, lethargic waves, dimming the edges of your vision and pulling a raspy, vaguely humored gasp from somewhere deep in your chest. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. You’d make him keep going until he gave you something better, next time.

Tonight, though, you had better things to do than babysit. With a shallow inhale and a moment taken to compose yourself, you pulled away from him and pushed yourself to your feet. Satan let out a displeased growl, loud enough and deep enough to rattle off the walls of the storage closet, but you shut him up quickly, pressing the sole of your boot into his shaft and rocking with just enough force to leave him spilling ropes of thick, ivory cum on his stomach, the evidence of his depravity left splattered against the pale skin of his midriff and the dark leather of your shoes. He moved to grab your ankle, to keep you that much closer to him for that much longer, but you pulled back, straightening yourself and shrugging your robes back on while Satan watched you, his eyes glassy and his fangs bared. “Maybe, next time, you’ll be able to take the lead,” you wondered aloud, then laughed. “Wouldn’t count on it, though. I think you’re cuter when you don’t have to think for yourself.”

You could still feel his eyes burning into you as you slipped back into the castle.

He started asking you to meet him in the House of Lamentation, after that. You told him you didn’t have a problem with empty classrooms and storage closets, but he insisted. You weren’t surprised. Just as he was learning that he would have to be well-behaved for you, you were starting to realize that you’d have to be gentler than anticipated with him.

That’s what you were doing now – being gentle. The collar wrapped around his neck was loose and lightweight, the leash that connected his throat to your hand allowed to fall lax for the moment, at least until the next time he did something that you would need to. You’d even let him take charge, laying back while he buried his face between your thighs, a skill he was eager to hone after you admitted his natural talent left more than a little to be desired. He was making progress, too. He’d learned to bite back his pride while he lapped over your cunt and pushed aimless patterns into your clit, spurred on by every twitch and moan he could draw out of you. There was a pillow between his legs, something soft and pliable he could grind against while he took care of you, but the thin golden ring sitting at the base of his cock made sure he wouldn’t have his fun before you had yours. This one wasn’t enchanted (you’d been tempted, but magic could be fickle and you didn’t want to bring an arcane locksmith into your time with him), but it worked well enough, and he’d never really gotten the hang of taking care of himself. To be fair, that was something he didn’t have to learn. He had you to dote on him, and you weren’t going anywhere. Not for a few hours, at least.

His hand curled around your hips, spreading you open further as the tapered end of his tongue lavished your clit, his drool mixing with your slick and staining the inside of your thighs. You let your eyes fall shut, using your legs to pull him closer as you bucked into his mouth and used his tongue to nurse yourself through your climax, only letting him go when the first pangs of overstimulation began to set in. Even without your encouragement, he didn’t go far. You felt the mattress shift, sensed his body on top of yours, and then, his mouth was crashing into your own, his kiss all teeth and tongue and violent lust. Within seconds, you could taste your blood on his lips, make out the little, airy noises only partially muffled by your connection. You could—

Your fist was crashing into his cheek before you had time to think, to stop yourself. Your knuckles caught his jaw with enough force to pry him off of you and leave him on the floor, still sitting up but visibly folded into himself. You cursed under your breath, your eyes only flitting to the door once before you lowered yourself to the ground beside him. There was a half-hearted snarl, but it died in his throat as soon as you were close enough to cup his cheek. You let out a softened coo as you pulled him close, pressing a fleeting kiss into his forehead. “Ah, I know, I know.” Another kiss, this one to the bruise forming along his jaw. Your remorse, although left mostly unspoken, was genuine. Anyone would’ve mourned leaving a mark on such a beautiful face. “Are you hurt?”

“As if something like that would affect an Avatar.”

As sharp-tongued as he was defensive. You were thankful for his ego-serving tendencies in this moment more than most. With an airy laugh, you strung your arms over his shoulders and let him bury his face in the dip of your shoulder. “Just don’t surprise me like that again, alright?” And then, after he managed to nod, “I know you’re strong enough to take it, but it’d break my heart to see you get hurt. Because of something so trivial, especially.”

When he didn’t pull away, didn’t respond at all, you sighed. “Do you have anything to say to me?”

It was little more than a mumble, spoke just under his breath. “Thank you,” he paused, melted that much further into you, “for taking care of me.”

“Good boy.”

You left a few minutes later, dressed in one of his shirts and little else. For your own peace of mind, you decided not to think about how long it’d been since you’d seen him bury his teeth in anything aside from you.

Honestly, it’d been weeks since you’d seen his fangs at all.

You’d had this problem before. Ever the romantic, your idle mind tended to linger on what couldn’t be reclaimed, to drive you towards the pursuit of wild beauty despite knowing that truly untamed things couldn’t be found twice, let alone a few times a week, whenever the careful surveillance of his brothers lapsed and Satan could seek you out like some mangy, prowling predator, spurred on by the promise of relief. Really, you would’ve given up on him after that first encounter, after he failed to sink his claws into your neck, or—

A ragged grunt drew you out of your thoughts and back into the present moment, back to Satan where he hovered above you. You were in some shadowed tunnel of the catacombs underneath the House of Lamentation, tonight, and you’d been kind enough to let him take charge, to keep your thighs wrapped around his waist as he fucked into you like a trained mutt, rather than the wild animal you were looking for. The stone of the altar he’d laid you over was cool against your skin, his horns pleasantly calloused where your hands were wrapped around them, and yet, your mind still wandered, the feeling of his cock beating against the walls of your cunt numbed by your lack of interest. Satan was less unaffected, his eyes clenching shut as he buckled against you, burying his face in your chest as he pushed open-mouthed kisses into whatever he could reach. It was sickening, the thought that he might’ve wanted you to return such tender affection. It was sickening, the thought that he could be capable of being so banal.

His hips crashed into yours, and you felt his lips turn upward, his cock twitch inside of you. “I think—” A pitchy whine, a half-swallowed whimper. “I think I’m in love with you.”

God. You might’ve been starting to hate him.

You let your hands fall to his shoulders. “Down, boy.”

He shook his head, too lost in his own bliss to listen to you. You scowled, shoving lightly at his chest, attempting more to get his attention than to force him off of you. “Down. Unless you want me to assume you’ve forgotten how to be obedient.”

“I—I love you,” he repeated, and then again, “I love you.” One of your legs was forced over his shoulder, his chest pressed almost flush to yours – bending you in half in a way that would’ve been painful, if you’d been anyone else. You let out a throaty growl, marking the first time you’d stopped to his level, but Satan didn’t hesitate, didn’t relent, only bowing his head and letting his rhythm deteriorate into something less calculated, less taught. You would’ve been pleased, if you hadn’t been so angry with him. “We— We’re going to be together, and you’re going to be mine, and I’m going to be—”

You could see tears running down his cheeks, hear his voice shake from something entirely separate from pleasure or desperation. You cursed under your breath, dragging your nails down the length of his spine and clawing at his back with enough force to break the skin, but he didn’t seem to notice, didn’t seem to mind, to care, to notice.“I’ll be yours.” He sounded so pathetically determined, as he thought it would come true if he only spoke loudly enough, if he only fucked you desperately enough. He probably did. You’d never taught him any better, and you weren’t sure he had anyone else who would even know to try. “I’ll only be yours.”

You were struggling, now, thrashing underneath him, but he was still an Avatar, still ranks above any station you would ever be able to reach. He held you in a bone-crushing, heart-wrenching embrace; close enough for you to feel his heart beating through his chest, to pick up on the half-muffled sobs catching in his throat. He only pulled away to bring one of his hands up to your jaw, to hold you in place while he pressed his lips against yours in a kiss so soft and so gentle, you would’ve been tempted to call it loving had it not been so vile.

By the time he drew back, he was smiling, and you couldn’t seem to remember why you’d ever thought he could be anything but hideous.

“And you’ll never have to leave again.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere obey me #obey me #obey me imagines #yandere satan #satan x reader #satan x you #om satan x reader #om satan x you #yanderecore #yancore

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beloved-nyx · 5 months

Text

𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐁 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑

The Lamb is devoid of sin, full of purity and devotion to the Divine. So why is the Lamb always the one to die at the end?

ft. Yan Priest/Cult Leader x GN! Reader

content. Suggestive themes, Religious Imagery, Reader has Religious Trauma, Reader is Called "My Lamb", Reader is In A Cult, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of Blood, Reader Dies at the End, General Yandere Themes, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

notes. Ummm Yikes bro this was kinda fun to write ngl. Anyway this is still like my second time writing Yandere but I didn't really push on the romance, more like I focused on the horror aspect of this. Anyway uhhh I am NOT catholic so please forgive me pookies I wrote this using my limited knowledge that I learned from a catholic school I attended when I was like in middle school.

The Lamb is a symbol of childlike innocence, of purity and selfless sacrifice.

You had heard these words whispered every time you stepped out of your small, cramped room as your savior smiled down at you and proclaimed those sacred words.

You were sacred, he told you.

A gift to the world, he told you.

The only good thing in this cruel, wretched place, he told you.

You clung onto his words like they were Divine Word. You clung onto him like he was Divine Word.

You wanted to retch, to slap your naive, innocent self as you looked into the mirror.

You were dressed like royalty, white silk covering your body and jewels of ruby draped around your neck like a noose. Gold bracelets decorated your arms, and you wonder if this is what listening to Divine Words–no, what listening to the words of a mad man brings you too.

“You look divine, my little lamb. Fit for the gods.”

You shake out of your stupor, eyes widening as your gaze meets black, lifeless eyes. Black eyes the color of nothingness. Black eyes the color of a starless sky.

You wonder if the Devil’s eyes are as black as his.

His steps are light, graceful and elegant as he makes his way towards you. His white hair-a stark contrast to his dark eyes, is braided, hanging loosely on his shoulder. His lips are curled, and he’s probably happy. No–of course he’s happy, he never looked as happy as he is today.

Cold fingers curl around your neck, and you can feel his lips next to your ear as he whispers, “White looks good on you, my lamb.”

“Don’t call me that.” Your fingers curl, halfmoon marks etched into your palm from digging your nails into the soft flesh. You want to claw his hand off your neck.

He doesn’t deign to give you a response, and you can feel his hands roaming downwards towards your chest, your stomach, lower and lower and you squeeze your eyes shut.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The Ram is a symbol of sacrifice as well. But the Ram is not as sweet as a sheep. They do not represent innocence but violence. They represent not of sweet submission but of cruel rebellion.

You tried escaping once, when you realized that you were nothing but fodder for the Divine.

It was meaningless, sure. They were going to find you, take you away and strip the measly rights of freedom they had given you before.

But that didn’t matter when freedom was so close to becoming yours.

You had planned for your escape for days. As your captor smiled down at you with his lifeless eyes, proclaiming your sanctity, you drew up drafts of escape plans and dreamt of seeing the stars.

You were so, so naive.

“How careless of you, my lamb. Don’t you know what may have befallen you outside of this sacred ground?”

You glare up at him. “Nothing worse than being locked up here like an animal!” His eyes darken at those words, but he chooses silence as his weapon. Fine, you think bitterly. I don’t need his words anyway.

That night, your dreams of freedom crumbled like chalk.

He had taken you away to a more separate wing of the place he called a “church”, and had looked at you in a way a mother would look disapprovingly at a child.

“Atone, and maybe the Gods will cast their mercy onto you, my lamb.”

Fuck the Gods. If you ever came out of this place alive, you would make them beg for your mercy.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

They say that sacrifice is a symbolism for what life has to offer. About the sacredness of life. Of the sanctity of the divine. Of how little we all are compared to the world around us.

They had to drag you towards the altar as you kicked and screamed and shouted profanities.

You didn’t want this. You never wanted this. But it didn’t matter, did it? All that mattered was the word of the Divine, and your captor who looked down at you with a sort of giddy look in his eyes that made you wish you had sunk a dagger into your neck instead of giving him the sweet satisfaction of…this.

As you reached towards the altar, your captors hand reached to cup your chin, and you thrashed in his grip.

“Open your mouth.”

He didn’t even give you a moment for you to refuse before he pried your mouth open and made you choke on wine that looked too much for blood to your liking and stained your white clothing red in the process.

You didn’t want this. You never wanted this.

But when did your choice ever matter?

You think they drugged you. They probably did. As they lift you up to the altar, they’re cloaked silhouettes hiding their faces and humanity, you look up to your captor with pleading eyes.

His lifeless eyes meet yours.

And he grins like the Devil.

“You were always too pure for this world anyway, my lamb.” His voice is like silk, lulling you to sleep as his eyes never blink, never look away from yours.

“At least now you will be protected from the sin of this world. At least now, in the afterlife, you will be mine forever.”

You wonder if God deserted you just like you deserted him.

You wonder if God was ever there for you in the first place.

The tip of a blade pierces flesh, and you think dully if you're now actually free. If you can now look at the stars finally.

“You will never be free from me.”

#yandere male #yandere oc #yandere priest #yandere cult #yandere male x reader #yandere male x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x you #yandere male x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere priest x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #❛❛𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.𝐎𝐅.𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋.𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄—ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹❞#um ehe

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have-you-seen-my-sanity · 3 months

Text

Short Temper

Dark!Poe Dameron x Fem!pilotReader

Dead dove do not eat - you'll get exactly what's in the tags!

Tags: Leia being such a sweetheart to reader, 18+!!, punishment, Poe being kind of possessive, p in v, blowjob, deep throating, overstimulation, dark Poe, Black Squadron members being silly lol.

Today was a rather stressful day at the Resistance, a pilot in Black Squadron was sick and you had to jump in and take his spot for a training simulation. But today, everyone knew Commander Poe Dameron had bad mood, he couldn't sleep the last night due to a Generator near his quarters kept beeping.

You just finished up preparing your X-Wing as General Leia Organa came up to you along with C-3PO by her side.

"Hey," she gave you a warm smile, "I saw how nervous you looked earlier when you had to jump in for today. Don't be, Black Squadron has the nicest pilots I've ever worked with." Leia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

"I know. Well, except Poe today." you laughed making Leia chuckle

"Yeah, except him. But please keep an eye on him, I don't want the whole base being moodier than him."

"Where are you going?" you asked curiously.

"I and C-3PO are going to Coruscant for a meeting. And until then, Poe will be in command until I'm back."

"Alright. But please be back as soon as possible, we don't want Poe to lose his shit." you chuckled.

"I promise I will. Take care." she gave you a pat on the shoulder and another warm smile, turning around and leaving for her meeting.

Soon enough, all pilots of Black Squadron gathered at the hangar, they all welcomed you, immediately cracking jokes with you and sharing laughter.

After a while one member spoke up, "Well, here he comes, Commander bad mood himself."

You had to suppress a laughter and went to your X-Wing. Then Poe approached you,

"Hi there, jumper. Got everything prepared?"

"Yes, sir." you nodded.

"Good. All you have to do is to follow my lead and don't do anything stupid." with that Poe walked to his X-Wing and climbed in.

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

The training simulation went well for the most part, but at one point you pulled off a stunt inside a nearby asteroid field to destroy the target. You chased the target through the field, doing some really close manouvers but at the end you successfully destroyed the last target while Poe was barking at you over the comm to get back and not risk your life for a dummy target. But you got sick and cut off your comm.

Now Black Squadron was back at the hangar, you changed into your mechanic uniform to re-new some paint on your X-Wing. Soon everyone else got out of their X-Wings and up to you. You thought they all would scold you but instead they laughed,

"Damn, you pulled off quite the show! Ha!"

"I wish we could have seen Poe's face when you've made it out of there alive."

"Poe did not like that at all!"

"I bet if you pull off more stunts like that, you could be even better than Poe!" Another one laughed.

"Oh oh... Poe's coming." one pointed at the black X-Wing that has just entered the hangar and landed.

All the other members of Black Squadron quickly pissed off to avoid Poe's temper but you decided to stay to prevent further provocation.

Poe removed his helmet and climbed out of his cockpit, immediately walking towards you. As you saw him coming closer, you took a deep breath and prepared mentally for the scolding you're about to get.

"What the hell was that?!" Poe barked, his tone was authoritive and demanding answers.

"Poe- I'm sorry, I-" Poe cut you off,

"You risked your life for a fucking training target, pulling off dangerous stunts inside an asteroid field!" Poe left no room for arguments.

"I'm sorry! I won't do it again!" You pleaded but he sighed in annoyance and shook his head.

"Sorry won't cut it." he responded sternly.

"What do you mean, Dameron?"

"Oh, you'll see. Come with me."

You stood there confused and Poe raised an eyebrow, "Don't make me repeat myself. Come with me now." he ordered almost coldly.

You did as he asked and followed him. He lead you into an empty supply room with a table and some chairs inside. He turned on the lights and motioned for you to enter first. After stepping inside, Poe typed something on the console beside the door and it turned red, signalizing the door is locked.

"Uhm, Poe? What are you doing?" you asked slowly and carefully.

He turned around to face you, "I'm going to teach you a lesson. A lesson to never risk your life for some stupid stunts." he walked towards you and pulled out a chair from the table and sat down.

"Get on your knees." he ordered.

"On my knees?" you asked confused.

"Do it." he growled.

You hesistated but slowly getting down on your knees. You slowly realized how Poe wanted to punish you.

Poe slowly unzipped his orange flight suit, "You know, I had a really bad fucking night. And your disobedience was the last drop."

He reached inside and pulled out his already hard cock, giving it a few strokes.

"Suck it." He ordered, tilting his head to the side slightly as if daring you to disobey.

Slowly, you leaned in, his other hand coming up behind you and grabbed the back of your neck. His hand was hot against your cold skin, it almost made you afraid of Poe.

You gave his cockhead a few licks, looking up at him and saw the desire in his eyes. A desire to grab your head and fuck your throat so hard it will be sore the next day. But he wanted you to do everything.

"Go ahead." His hand on the back of your neck gave you a warning squeeze.

You leaned in and took his girth in your mouth as far as you could. He was so big you couldn't fit him all the way. Poe groaned deeply and you looked up to see his eyes fluttered close and his head thrown back.

"Fuck, keep going." he looked back down at you and licked his lips hungrily.

You kept sucking him, the only sounds filling the small room were the wet sounds and Poe's groaning.

"You're so good at this." He praised and moved his hand upwards to tangle into your hair.

"I'm gonna cum. You better swallow every drop or else you will suck my cock again and again until your stomach is full of my cum."

Poe warned as his breath got ragged and he suddenly plunged his cock all the way down your throat, making you gag as he came down your throat.

He released you and you got back up, turning around and ready to leave.

"Where do you think you're going? I didn't say we are finished here. I'm not done with you yet. Come back here."

Poe stood up and walked towards you.

"But you just came." you protested and he chuckled,

"And? Did I say you could leave? We're not finished. Not by a long shot, sweetheart."

Poe grabbed you and pushed you against the wall face first.

"This is a lesson in obedience after all." he leaned close and unfastened your uniform pants, pulling them down along with your panties.

"You know, maybe I will keep you in my squadron. See how you will be become my good little girl and follow your Commander's orders like you should."

he reached out and stroked your clit rythmically, the pace increasing stroke after stroke.

Your moans filled the room and Poe soon pushed two fingers inside you after you were dripping onto the ground beneath you.

"Yes, keep moaning, let the whole base hear how much of a good girl you are for me." He incouraged, your breath getting ragged as you felt your orgasm approach.

Poe felt your cunt clench around his fingers, but his pace only slowed down momentarilly as you came down from the orgasm.

He kept pumping his fingers in and out of you, slowly. Your poor pussy was overstimulated, you couldn't take anymore and Poe suddenly removed his fingers.

"Now I think you're wet enough."

Poe was already stroking his once again hard cock.

"What do you mea--" you got cut of by the sudden intrusion of his big cock into your overstimulated entrance.

Poe leaned in close, "Ohhhh, your pussy isn't going to be spared from my cock." he drawled out and leaned down towards your neck, kissing and sucking on the skin. Then he suddenly bit down.

You gasped, and squeezed him in response which made him groan.

"Fuck, you're so tight, honey." his thrusts were slow at first, but he quickly increased the pace as he heard your moans and whimpers getting more needily.

His grip on your hips got tighter and his thrusts harder and faster.

You felt your second orgasm build up, making you arch your back into him and your moans getting louder.

"I knew you would love my cock, baby. But Don't worry, you will get more of me."

Poe felt himself getting close again too, and soon enough he buried his whole girth inside you and came hard. He buried his face into the crook of your neck as his breath slowly returned to normal. He pulled out and handed you some tissue to clean yourself up. Poe cleaned himself up too and put himself back into his boxers.

Poe turned his attention back to you, watching as you pulled your panties and pants back up.

"You better listen to me from now on and do what I say. Because if not, then this will be a common thing." He waited for your answer.

"Yes." You nodded weakly.

"Good." With a satisfied nod, Poe unlocked the door and stepped out, leaving you there overstimulated but satisfied.

#oh my god what have i created #dark poe dameron #dark!poe dameron #poe dameron smut #poe dameron x reader smut #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #star wars #oscar isaac

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megamindsecretlair · 6 months

Text

The King and I, Part 3

Pairing: King Ghezo x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT AND ANGST. Don't say I ain't warn ya. Mentions of violence, forceful touching. Virginity loss. PIV, Oral (fem receiving) , all consensual. Doesn't follow canon of the movie.

Summary: You continue to enjoy your burgeoning life with the King. Though there is nothing to do and you fear that your life will revolve around him and him only. He shows you more beautiful sights and you decide to take the relationship to the next level.

Word Count: 8,016k

A/N: I don't know what happened. Forgive me! I did not intend for this to be so long, but I turned my mind off and let the story take me where it would. If you need a wind down from Christmas festivities, here ya go! Merry Christmas my lovelies. Or Happy Monday to those who don't celebrate. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @gg-trini @eggnox @naj-ay444 @sheepywritesfics @westside-rot @twocentuar @pinkpantheris @tchallasbabymama @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @abeautifulmindexposed @neawarren @monaeesstuff @blackerthings @melaninpov @1-800anklebully @mogul93 @softimgyu @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @softscorpio17 @theunsweetenedtruth

You liked kissing. You really liked kissing. You had no love for your father, but you could thank him for keeping you from this experience until your marriage. You liked closing your eyes and feeling the King’s lips against yours.

The King stole kisses whenever he could. Before and after meetings. During meals. You felt silly kissing him in front of his first wife but she only smiled or directed her attention elsewhere. You wondered if she was capable of speaking. You knew nothing about her and she offered precious little.

The King would settle your thoughts of her by kissing your worries away. His kisses always started soft as a dove’s wing. He would look at you, trace your face with his fingers, and then pull you closer. His lips would press against yours. The first joining was your favorite. When he would linger before going deeper, spearing his tongue between your lips and exploring your mouth.

Then the kiss would light a fire inside you, deep down in your core. Where it felt like you would burn from the inside out. Burn with need. That need would drive you insane but you were always interrupted before things went further. A eunuch would come to collect the King or Nanisca would need his attention or there was some council member who needed to speak with him and they would take him away from you.

One of his eunuchs came up to him now, spoke in his ear. “Already?” The King asked. The eunuch nodded. The King frowned but nodded.

He promised to see you later, but not before one last kiss. He traced your lips with his thumb, looked at your lips as if he were reluctant to leave, and then gave you that smile that never failed to make your knees weak.

Left to your own devices, there wasn’t much for you to do. You did not have babies yet so there was no reason to visit the nursery. The first wife spent most of her time there with her babies. Sometimes you’d catch them walking around the palace garden.

His sons were beautiful. They looked like they would grow big and strong like him. The lines of succession weren’t always so cut and dry. The oldest wasn’t necessarily the heir but you could see that little boy taking over for his father.

All you had was your imagination to keep you company. This afternoon, there was no meeting to attend. So you wandered around the palace with a routine you set for yourself.

You started off wandering towards the training field. The Agojie were intimidating. Sometimes you watched them through the windows. Watched them train and imagined living amongst them. In another life, perhaps you were braver. Tougher. Perhaps you would have been able to stand up to your father sooner.

Growing up in the village, you had heard plenty of vile things said about the Agojie. Old men would lament about a woman’s place and how it was not to wield swords and protect the village. Bitter women would gossip about the mannish Agojie who could not find husbands and now never would.

You admired them from the first moment you heard about them. Fierce women who were strong like men, pretty, and bonded in sisterhood. You always wanted a sister. You wanted the bonds that others seemed to enjoy. Even when sisters bickered and fought, it was out of love.

You were a lonely child. With nothing but your mother and father for company, you learned to escape away in your head. Where you had a house full of beautiful kids, a loving husband who never raised a hand to you in anger, and a life spent laughing too much and drinking too much.

What you never truly imagined though, was life beyond the wedding part. In your many musings, the wedding was part of it. You weren’t picky one way or another about what you would wear, what the feast would look like, what the flowers would be. But you knew your mother would help make it a special day, no matter how much your father would protest about every little detail.

Beyond that…you had no idea what your marriage would look like. The men your father paraded in front of you were too old, too skinny, too ugly, too mean, too…gross. The way they would look at you still made you shudder in revulsion. You could not see a life with them.

You never in your wildest imaginings thought you’d be married to the king. Not only married to the king, but kissing the king. And liking to kiss the king. You laid awake all night thinking about his kisses. His muscles. His chest. What he would look like naked.

You ducked your head and looked around you, at the empty hallway as if your thoughts were projected onto the walls. You had never seen a man naked. Had never cared to. But the more time you spent with the King, the more you found yourself wanting to. Wanting something and having the means to get it were alien concepts to you.

You were forced to sift through your emotions and thoughts as you walked the halls every day. The King was not evil. He was a man with a heavy burden and sometimes had to make decisions that seemed cruel. Kings in the past dealt with hardships, but considering the unprecedented attack across the lands, it was a wonder the King did half as good a job as he did.

Your wanderings took you to the palace gardens anyway. You walked the paths, admiring the rich reds, purples, and pinks of the flowers growing there and lovingly tended to by palace servants. Trees stretched to the sky. You sat on a patch of grass, careful to avoid any potential wet spots.

You laid back so that the sky was completely open to you. It truly amazed you that you were…free to do this. To do nothing. No one demanded anything from you. No one made you speak when you didn’t want to. No one talked bad about you to your face as if you weren’t standing right there.

And yet…you were inexplicably still lonely. There was no one to really talk to besides your servant but her job was to talk to you. The first wife was content to live in her own little bubble and you were content to let her. The last thing you would do was to disturb her peace when precious few women got that in life. You could talk to the King and he was a remarkable conversationalist, but he was still a man.

Your thoughts turned once more to the King. Lately, you thought of him more and more. Not only did he make you laugh, he also made you giddy. He made you think and challenge your thoughts. And you found yourself watching him, unable to tear your eyes away. His clothes were always finely tailored. His hair perfectly coiled and styled atop his head. His strong jaw, wide smile.

What would it feel like if he were on top of you? If he peeled your dress off? If his fingers gripped your thighs…

“What are you thinking about so hard?”

You gasped and sat up in a panic. Your head smacked into something hard and you yelped in pain. The King knelt down, cooing at you.

“I am sorry, my Queen. Surely you will kill me for this,” he said. He prodded at your forehead. You hissed and jerked away from him. He sighed and planted a tender kiss to the spot.

“The day is still young, my King,” you said but there was no real heat. You smiled at him and he smiled back.

“I am spared for the moment, then,” he said.

You fixed your crimson red robes and willed your heart to stop thundering in your chest. He could not read your thoughts and you hoped that your face did not betray you. Your hands shook at getting caught thinking something so naughty. The King has done nothing but made you feel safe and heard. But how did you let him know that you wanted to try?

“You did not answer my question. You looked deep in thought and I was jealous your attention was elsewhere,” he said.

You giggled and his smile grew wider. “How can you possibly be jealous of my thoughts?”

“They get to know what you’re thinking and I do not,” he said.

You didn’t want to lie but you also didn’t want to tell him what you were thinking. You raised such a huge fuss about him being in your room on your wedding night, you feared that if he knew he’d take you to bed right this instant. The thought both thrilled you and terrified you.

You drew your knees to yourself, as far as you were able with your tummy in the way, and bit your lip.

“If you must know, I was thinking about you.” You peeked at him and he tilted his head.

“Now you must really tell me what you were thinking. Your king demands it of you,” he said with a grin.

You giggled and shook your head. “And give up my secrets so easily? You must earn them, husband,” you said.

Surprise made his entire face open up. It was the first time you had called him such and by the look on his face, he noticed too. “How may I earn them, wife?” His voice grew deeper. It made your belly do a funny flip.

“I’m sure you can think of something, husband,” you said. This was as far as your bravery allowed you to go. You wished you were more bold. That you could rip off his gold robes and taste his skin. That his hands would roam your body in previously forbidden places and douse this inferno in your veins.

King Ghezo smiled and leaned closer, planting a kiss high on your cheek, near your ear. “I’m sure I can think of something, wife.” Shivers wracked through your body. “Come. I wish to show you something.”

He stood up and held out his hands. You took his and he helped you stand. You dusted your robes and made sure it was still secure around your body. Then, he took your hand and led you out of the palace gardens.

He asked about your day while he pulled you through the palace. There was nothing remarkable about it but he wanted to hear every bit of it. He thought your fascination with the Agojie was adorable. He told you that he liked how animated you were when you spoke about them.

“Should I be worried that you are getting ideas from my Agojie on how to kill me?” He asked.

You shrugged. “I deserve some credit. I would not choose something so obvious,” you said and smiled.

“No, you would not. I will figure it out,” he said. You giggled as you emerged on the other end of the palace, towards the path that led you to “your spot”. He had shared the cliffside view with you many times by now but it was always in the morning or day time.

The sun was setting, the giant resting its eye now as it descended in the horizon. But it was like it couldn’t resist one last peak at the world before it yielded the sky to the moon. You looked overhead. The dark purples and oranges were mixing and stars were starting to poke through.

King Ghezo tugged you to your spot and you thought he wanted to look at the sunset. Instead, he looked back to make sure there were no guards or servants nearby. Then, he moved a heavy branch out of the way revealing a sloping path downward.

“What is this?” You asked.

“Do you trust me, wife?” The King asked.

You stared at his open face. He’s had plenty of chances to kill you by now. In fact, you stopped carrying your knife and finally returned it to the kitchen. You were not in danger of that from him. He had been nothing but kind. If he truly were cruel, he would have shown his true colors by now.

So…yes. You nodded your head. “I trust you,” you said.

The King grinned and squeezed your hand. Then, he descended down the slope telling you to step where he steps. And if there was an area you were concerned about, to let him know. You followed behind him with the darkening sky to your right. It took your breath away. Though to descend the cliff, you weren’t paying too much attention to the sunset.

What was it that he wanted to show you?

At the bottom of the cliff, there was a small beach area. It wasn’t that wide, but there was enough space to feel open and small enough to feel cozy. Your feet sank into the soft sand and you gasped at the sensation.

You grinned at the King and he was already watching you. “It’s so mushy!”

“I found this as a boy and told no one. The guards and Agojie will likely close this off if they ever knew. When I want to be alone, sometimes I come here. I don’t stay for long. If the King goes missing, it tends to cause a fuss,” he said.

He pulled you onto the beach proper. Your jaw dropped at seeing the ocean up close. The sun’s light only reached so far now. The moon was high in the sky, casting a faint glow over the water. You fought tears as you looked out over the darkened water. The King continued to show you sights you never imagined.

He pulled you closer to the water. Where the water touched the sand, your feet sunk deeper still. The wet, squishy sand burrowed between your toes. The waves washed up on shore and over your feet. You squealed when the cold water hit your skin. The King laughed at your reaction.

He took your hand and spun you around in the water. You giggled as you did so, feeling silly, but it was a nice feeling. A freeing feeling. A feeling as close to flying as you could possibly get. You began to feel dizzy and stopped spinning. You swayed and the King caught you. You gazed at him, held in his arms, and feeling…happy. Strangely, wonderfully, magnificently happy.

“My King…” you breathed. You had no adequate words to thank him. This was yet another thing he was able to take for granted and he shared it with you. Distantly, you wondered if he took his first wife here too. But that kind of thinking would only make you feel sick.

“I like when you call me husband more,” he said.

You smiled at him. “Husband it is then,” you said.

“Does this earn me one of your secrets?” The King asked.

Your cheeks were going to hurt from all of this smiling. How was it that he was able to manage the land and still remember silly conversations between you?

“What is it you would like to know?” You asked.

“Have I earned your love yet?” He frowned slightly and you wondered why. You were still leaning into his arms, as close as…well, lovers. There were more shadows now and the quiet lull of the waves on the shore ensured a kind of intimacy.

The moonlight made his skin shine and you licked your lips. It would be okay to admit this in the safety of night. When your face was not fully on display and you didn’t have to worry about how foolish you looked. A wife confessing her love to her husband.

“I do love you, my King. Despite my best attempts otherwise,” you said, with a smile.

“Why attempt otherwise? Am I that undesirable for a husband?” He asked.

“No!” You nearly shouted. How could you put this?

“Outside these palace walls, there are lots of rumors about you. We don’t know you as a people, which is to be expected. And if a father is to throw away his daughter, it is at your doorstep they discard us. Filled with thoughts of rumors and whispers. I expected you to be like any other man. Cruel, greedy, and dimwitted.”

You watched his face, but it was carefully controlled. Watching you with mild interest as you tried to explain your feelings. “But you are kind, smart, and funny. You…you’re safe. And I love you for making me feel safe,” you said.

The King took a deep breath. He grabbed your hands and brought them to his lips. He kissed both. Then he pulled you into a hug. “I can die happy knowing that I’ve earned your love. I love you, my radiant Queen,” he said.

Your heart leapt in your chest hearing those words. “Husband,” you said and crashed your lips to his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close to you. You molded your body to his so that no inch of him was not touching your body. You gasped into the kiss as you felt his dick, thick against your upper thigh.

King Ghezo groaned and placed his hands on your hips, pulling you closer still and kissing you back. Your kisses turned bruising, crashing your lips against each other with passion. Teeth scraped against each other. Tongued dueled. His hands coasted down your body until he gripped your ass in his hands.

He groaned and began to squeeze your ass with his big, rough hands. You felt him lift your ass cheeks and you moaned into your kiss. The back of your thighs tingled. If you had hoped that this raging fire inside of you would dim over time, you were sorely mistaken.

“Husband…” you said when there was a natural break in your kiss.

“Yes, wife?” He asked, his voice slightly shaking and breathy. He nuzzled your cheek with his nose, planting soft kisses along your jawline.

“Take me to bed?”

His kisses stopped. His lips lingered on your jaw, under your ear. “Are you sure, wife?”

“Take me to bed, husband. Please,” you said. The King leaned back and looked into your eyes. You didn’t know how else you could make it clear. If he asked you again, you may lose your nerve and rip his robes off here and now. If he ripped your robes off here and now, you would let him.

Your mind was cloudy with no other thoughts than you were tired of waiting. You were a wife and you wanted to experience your husband. You and your friends would giggle about sex growing up, well out of earshot of your fathers.

You thought it was a trite thing between married partners. Something only done to produce a baby. You never thought that it would feel like this. Like there were bugs beneath your skin ready to burst out if you did not find relief soon. That you would yearn for such a thing.

The King picked you up and you yelped in surprise. “Husband!” You squealed with laughter. He laughed with you but did not put you down until he reached the bottom of the slope. He went ahead of you to make sure you were safe on the jagged cliffside, avoiding rocks and slippery patches of grass.

You followed behind, holding his hand, and trusting that he would lead you to safety. He pulled you to the top of the cliffside, stopping long enough to kiss you. You laughed in between kisses, such joy trying to crack open from your chest.

The King pulled you into the palace, setting a pace that you barely kept up with. You had not thought that he would be so eager to take you to bed. Surely, he got it whenever he wanted from his first wife. But his excitement seemed to match yours.

The tips of your ears burned as you passed servants who smiled politely but likely knew what was about to happen. You shouldn’t be embarrassed to go to bed with your husband. And you weren’t embarrassed to the point that you changed your mind. You wanted to do a good job and please him. You wanted to leave him satisfied and you feared that your lack of experience would make this your first and only night with him.

What if he planted a baby inside you and never touched you again? Your heart squeezed painfully. That would break you. It would break you if your husband never touched you after tonight.

The King found your room with ease. He opened the door and ushered you inside, closing it behind you. You took to keeping your balcony doors open because it became dreadfully stuffy otherwise. The room was perfectly breezy now, the air brushing along your damp skin from the mad dash through the palace.

Standing in the room, the bed seemed impossibly large now. How different it was to stand here, not afraid of your husband or what you were about to do. You were terrified on your wedding night. Terrified that he would take what you were not offering. But he respected your wishes.

Now, your wishes were to see all of him. Touch all of him. A few candles were lit and you silently thanked Mawu-Lisa for that. You were not ashamed of your body, but you liked it better that you would do this mostly in the light of the moon.

The King brought your hand to his lips and kissed it. “I have dreamt of this many nights, wife. I will do my best. You must tell me if I’m hurting you,” he said.

“I promise,” you told him.

There was enough moonlight and light from the candles to point out most of his features. You saw him smile and then he pulled you closer. He dropped his head and kissed you. There was no more rush. The King was back to being sweet and tender, letting you get used to him being in your chambers.

He walked you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed. He slowed his kisses down, pulling away from you with a small groan. “I wish to see you, wife,” he said. His gaze searched yours for permission and you nodded.

You were so nervous, you could barely breathe at the moment. Need clawed your insides and it took all of your willpower to stand there while his hands reached for the tie at your waist. He pulled and tugged on it until the robe loosened. You took a deep breath as he peeled the side of the robe open, revealing your naked body beneath it.

You watched his face. His eyes were on your body. Eyes wide and nose flared as he looked at your exposed flesh. He let out a soft curse. “You are absolutely gorgeous,” he whispered.

You beamed at hearing his words. Many people had called you some variation of beautiful and it meant nothing to you. Hearing your husband say it was a treasure you locked away in your heart. You would trot it out for years and years and relive this moment until the end of your days.

“I wish to see you husband,” you whispered back. He stepped back and opened his arms. His robe was already open, revealing that delectable chest you salivated over. You slipped the sides off of him, revealing thick arms to match his solid chest. Here, you became shy. You knew that his pants would have to come off, in fact you were licking your lips at the thought, but you’d never seen a dick before. You weren’t prepared.

King Ghezo seemed to guess this. Maybe your face showed your fear. He stepped forward, slipping your own robes from your body and letting it pool at your feet.

“I am going to taste you, wife. Would you like that?” The King had a strange note in his voice that you could not name. Like he was enjoying your shyness.

“Taste me?” Did he not already taste you when he kissed you? The King only grinned and directed you to get on the bed. You did as you were told. The King’s hands grazed your ass as you wiggled onto the bed. Your skin tingled where he touched.

He told you to flip over, so you did. You waited for him to take his pants off and climb into bed. Wasn’t that the idea? You had no clue what to expect or do or feel. The bed dipped as he climbed on, his knees sinking into the mattress as he came closer.

He sat back on his knees and grabbed your left foot. He began to massage it and you fell back against the pillow as you sighed with pleasure. “Oh,” you moaned.

“This only works if you are relaxed. I know this is new. But I will be as open as possible, eh?” He asked.

“Okay,” you said. Your eyelids turned heavy as he put pressure on the heel of your foot, hitting a tender spot that shook you down to your bones. You melted into your bed, enjoying this. You wanted to catalog every second of this. If this would be your first and last time, you wanted the memories to keep you going.

He switched to your right foot, giving it just as much attention. Then he worked his way up both of your legs, spreading them wider the higher he went up. Your heartbeat began to pick up, but you were so relaxed from the massage, you screamed at your body to calm down. You did truly trust your husband.

He spread your legs and the cool air from outside hit your damp pussy. You bit your lip, looking away from him. Nothing about this should feel embarrassing and yet that’s exactly how it felt. No one had ever looked there and it made you nervous. Did he like what he saw? Was that a thing? Did it please him that you were wet for him?

A dark light entered his gaze. He stared at the very heart of you. Your pussy clenched and unclenched around nothing, somehow growing wetter under his intense scrutiny. His fingers tightened around your knees.

“Husband?” You asked.

“I’m trying to be gentle, but this is…proving very difficult.” His voice sounded hoarse as if he had been running for miles.

“I am yours, husband. However you wish,” you said.

His eyes snapped to yours. “Do not tempt me,” he said with a wicked grin. Then he flattened himself on the bed, scooting in between your thighs. Your eyes rounded as he seemed to be aiming his mouth for your pussy.

You were about to ask what he was planning to do, when his tongue swiped out and licked your pussy! “Oh!” You wailed. The sensation was completely foreign to you. You had nothing to compare it to. No basis to make you understand.

Your pussy was warm, his tongue was warm, but the minute he retreated, the cold air swooped in and swept across your exposed core. He licked you a few times and you could not stop the avalanche of moans tumbling from your lips. It felt divine. It felt weird. It felt amazing and you did not want him to stop.

“Are you okay, wife?” King Ghezo asked.

“Yes! Yes! Keep going!” You prayed. You prayed with all your might that you would get to experience this many times over. Your fingers played with his soft curls as he went back to licking you. His nose separated your folds as his tongue went lower, to your entrance, and he drank from you there. His slurps were loud in the chamber and you worried about the noise.

You gushed onto his face and you ought to feel some way about that, but all you felt was pleasure. There was tightening low in your belly but you ignored it in favor of feeling his wondrous tongue encircle your pussy. He groaned around you and it triggered your own groan.

When he hit a spot that you particularly enjoyed, you yanked on his curls. You immediately loosened your grip, not wanting to hurt him. He lifted his head from your center and looked at you. “Do what you must, wife. You will not hurt me,” he said.

You giggled nervously as you saw your essence dripping down his chin. All of that came from you?

You nodded and he returned to licking and tasting you. You moaned and dug your fingers into his curls, yanking and pulling. Your curses reached the ceiling and bounced back towards you.

The tightening got worse and worse until it almost felt like you were about to use it on yourself. You became worried that you would do just that, so you began to push at his head. His eyes flicked towards yours but he did not stop.

He kept going, keeping his gaze trained on you while that tightening became overbearing. “Oh, my King, I–”

A tidal wave of pleasure rolled through you and dragged you under. You moaned as that tight feeling dispersed, sending pinpricks of rapture to course through your body. You shook and jerked, your body completely out of your control.

The King moaned as he continued to taste you through it. “Taste so good. Love tasting you,” he murmured into your pussy. Your thighs gripped his head but still he kept going, until the last shiver left you panting against your pillow. Your sweat gathered there creating a weird mix between hot and cold from the open balcony.

“What..was that?” You asked.

“Climax,” he said.

“Climax?” You asked, rolling the word around your tongue.

“It’s what people do when they experience great pleasure.”

“So you will do it too?” You asked. How did people not spend every waking moment doing this? Now that you had experienced it, you never wanted to leave this bed!

He grinned and nodded as he ran his hand down his face, wiping away your arousal. He climbed up your body, planting kisses here or there to your tummy, until he reached your breasts.

“Are you alright, wife?” The King asked.

“Yes, husband,” you whispered. You couldn’t look at him. You were too full of love and basking in that wave of bliss. He chuckled as he kissed your belly.

“I’m going to kiss your breasts. Would you like that?” He asked.

“Yes!” You wanted to experience it all. You wanted all of it. Your hands caressed his thick arms, feeling his muscles bunch under your wandering hands. The King grinned and his mouth latched onto your nipple, suckling it into his mouth.

“Oh! Ouee,” you moaned. You had no idea that they could be so sensitive. When your cycle came, you only knew that they grew heavy and sometimes painful. But sensitive during this was fascinating to you as he rolled your nipple around his mouth. You watched the total concentration on his face.

Your hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck while he switched his attention to your other nipple. Your hip jerked violently and your pussy clenched, feeling strangely empty. In theory, you knew what sex was. Your mother had that particular talk with you. You knew that he would stick his dick in there but after everything else, you weren’t sure you could handle that. But you wanted to try.

The King kissed his way up your chest, kissed your neck, and then moved upwards to kiss your lips. You tasted and smelled yourself on him and it caused you to moan. You liked marking him in such a way. That it was your essence on his lips. That you belonged to him as only a wife could to her husband.

“I am going to enter you now, wife. I will go slow, but be patient with me.” You nodded. You had no clue what he was on about but you enjoyed everything else. You were sure you would enjoy that too.

King Ghezo scooted back and got off the bed. You missed the heat of his body instantly. The cold breeze from outside ran over your body and you shivered. The King smirked at you while his hands went to the waistband of his trousers. He lowered them off of his hips and your eyes watched his every movement.

The pants slipped down and exposed him and your jaw dropped open. His dick was huge, wide, with a defining mushroom head that your eyes zeroed in on. There was no way that would fit inside of you. Absolutely none!

He palmed his length, rubbing his hand up and down. “Like what you see?”

“You are…big,” you asked. Not that you had anything to compare it to. Surely, this was above average? Maybe this was why no one did this fifty times a day. If women were getting split in half by the likes of that, they wouldn’t be able to get any chores done! Ever.

The King chuckled as he climbed back onto the bed. He laid next to you. “Would you like to touch it?”

“I won’t hurt you?” You asked.

The King grinned and shook his head. You knew you were being painfully stupid, asking these questions and acting like a skittish animal. How could you not? Why did no one prepare you for this shit?

If you ever had a daughter, you would absolutely prepare her for this by detailing exactly what happened. No matter how awkward and painful it may be for the both of you, you would not send your daughter out into marriage without giving her some notion.

You reached out your hand and wrapped your fingers around his length. You gasped. “You’re so soft!” Yet hard at the same time? The skin was smooth to the touch, with faint veins on the side. Yet his dick was also hard, unyielding. What would it feel like inside of you?

The King began to kiss you while you stroked him. He groaned and moved his hips while you became bolder, gripping onto him harder, and loving the way he responded. He moved on top of you and gently moved your hand away from him.

He gripped his dick and ran it through your folds, coating himself with your arousal. The tips of your ears burned but it felt good and you found yourself sinking down into a more prone position.

He placed his dick at your entrance and took a deep breath. He looked into your eyes as he began to slide in. Your mouth dropped open as he stretched you. It both hurt and felt good as he worked his way in.

“Wait!” The King paused. He wasn’t even partially in but it felt like was stabbing you with a knife.

“It will get better, I promise,” he said.

You nodded and took deep breaths, but fuck! You held onto his wide shoulders as he began to move forward. He retreated until just the tip of him was at your entrance and then he dove back again, getting deeper with each stroke. Your nails dug into his skin, leaving half-moon marks in it, as the stretch was too much for you to bear.

Something wonderful began to happen, however. It hurt, yes, but you were growing accustomed to it. Your body welcomed him in, your arousal helping the slide of him. He was about halfway in, getting deeper and deeper. He hit a particular spot and you screamed, slapping at his shoulder.

“Shh, shh, you have to relax.” He kissed you, trying to take your mind off of the splitting pain inside of you.

The kissing helped and he kept going. His strokes were gentle but you knew instinctively that he had to work himself inside of you. He said it would get better and you truly hoped so.

The King’s arms shook as he held himself on top of you, mindful to not put all of his weight on you. “Are you okay, husband?” You asked.

He huffed a laugh. “I should be asking you. You feel so good. So tight,” he whispered.

You whimpered as he finally bottomed out, fully seated inside of you. He lay still, kissing your jaw, your lips, your cheek. Any area he could reach with his lips. Sweat gathered on his brow and you kissed his forehead when he dropped his eyes to look at where you were joined.

You followed his gaze. Somehow that giant thing between his legs fit inside of you. “I’m going to move now,” he said.

He moved out of you and then slowly pushed back in. This time, it wasn’t as painful. The more he did it, true to his word, the more it started to feel good. Really good.

The mushroom head of his dick glided along your inner walls. It dragged ragged moans from you and King Ghezo dropped his head. “Fuck,” he groaned.

His hips snapped as he increased his strokes. “Oue, oue, more, more,” you begged. You didn’t know what you meant, but he seemed to. He snapped his hips faster. He lifted one of your legs to straddle his hip. It opened you further and you moaned as he sank even deeper inside of you. You felt his dick twitching.

Your belly tightened and you knew now that it was a climax. He stroked long and deep, pulling inhuman moans from you.

“Come on, wife. Come on,” he cheered.

You turned watery eyes to him as the climax finally washed over you. It burrowed into your bones, turning your insides to jelly, and melting you from the inside out. Your body was out of your control, your mind blissfully empty as you focused on nothing but the pleasure in your veins and the way he looked at you. Devoted. Cherished.

He moaned low and deep in his throat before something warm coated your insides. His dick pulsed as he snapped his hips as far forward as possible. He was completely buried inside of you as that warm, squishy feeling filled you to the brim. You felt incredibly stuffed.

Was that his climax? You were too nervous to ask. It was a strange sensation but you loved the feeling of him moving inside of you. He groaned and dropped to the left of you. He kissed your shoulder.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asked. You shook your head. Your body trembled as you recovered from your climax. The King grinned sloppily and kissed you gently. He pressed his lips to yours and lingered.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you,” you responded.

He began to soften inside of you. Wait, so that wasn’t how he was normally?! You felt stupid. There was so much you didn’t know. And who did you have to ask? Absolutely no one.

He pulled out of you and something slipped out right after him. Did you make a mess of yourself? You leaned up on your elbows and looked at your pussy. A white, creamy substance leaked out of you. Your eyes widened. That must have come from him.

You ran your fingers through it and it was silky and sticky. You looked at the King who watched your curiosity like it greatly pleased him. He rubbed your belly.

“Are you truly alright, wife?” He asked.

You nodded. “Will we do that again?” You asked. You flipped onto your side and faced him. He matched you and rested his head on his hand.

“As many times as you wish,” he said with a grin.

You opened your mouth, ready to say something, but a yawn escaped you. The King chuckled and caressed your cheek.

“Thank you. That was…everything,” he whispered. He pulled you closer for a kiss. “Let’s sleep,” he said.

He rolled you over onto your other side, facing away from the balcony. He wrapped his arms around you, one arm going under your head and the other around your middle. He scooted closer to your back, pressing the length of him along yours. His dick nestled into your ass and you wiggled.

His hand flexed on your hip. “Careful. Before I flip you back over.” His voice was gruff. His breath fanned across your ear and neck. You giggled and kissed his arm.

You would get good at this sex thing. You would make sure that he continued to feel good when he was with you so that you could do that all the time. You snuggled into the oppressive heat of his body and drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, you awoke to a cold bed. You leaned up, your bleary eyes scanning the room for the King. It made sense if he had to go back to his own room. A part of you wish he had stayed.

As if she were connected to you, your servant entered the room carrying a green dress in her hands.

“Good morning, my Queen. The King has requested you join him in the council room.”

“No breakfast?” You asked.

“It will be served after,” she said.

You nodded. You couldn’t fathom what the King would want before breakfast. It was unusual to have a council meeting this early. Maybe the Oyo have grown bolder and require more diligence in dealing with them.

There was only one way to find out. You got up from the bed but you were deliciously sore. Your heart was light, airy, filled with so much love you wanted to cry. His spend had dried between your legs so your servant handed you a wet cloth and you cleaned yourself up.

She helped you dress and fixed your hair into something presentable. You couldn’t stop grinning and giggling. You were a bit worried about this meeting. You hoped it wasn’t something mortifying. Like the King announcing that you had sex and was hoping for another baby soon.

Feeling and looking good, you left your room and headed to the council room. You were beyond to see your husband. You were the last to arrive. The King smiled when you entered. He, Nanisca, the first wife, and members of his council were standing in a circle with their backs to you.

Nansica was the closest to you. She turned around and bobbed her head. You nodded back towards her. The King held out his hand.

“Wife, come meet Sade.”

Your throat dried instantly as the King stepped aside and a lovely woman, with long braids stood beside the King. She had deep ebony skin, low cheekbones, and small features. She looked like a doll standing next to him.

Your smile froze on your face as you looked from the King to Sade. Your steps turned wooden as your stomach hollowed out. You stopped a few feet from them both.

“We will be married before the week is out as a union between our kingdom and her father’s,” The King said.

Your stomach roiled with acid. You knew this day would come. You knew that you could not possibly be the last of his wives.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you managed to say around the dry lump in your throat. Tears gathered in your eyes but you blinked them away. You would not cry and snivel like a little girl. No matter how much your world was crashing down around your ears. No matter that your heart beat painfully against your rib cage. You wished to carve it out and throw it away.

You touched your hand to your chest, shocked not to find blood there already. A stab wound would hurt less.

The past few weeks had taught you to lower your defenses and enjoy your newfound freedoms. Had you truly been free? The armor you donned every morning to survive your weak father and ineffective mother and their childish marriage schemes was not needed here. Or so you thought. You pulled on your resolve. You pulled on every ounce of strength you had to look that woman in the eyes.

It was not her fault that she was traded to the King for an alliance. It was always done that way. You looked at her and only saw yourself. In another life, you would have been from a rival kingdom. Sold to a different land with different customs, food, dress, and manner of speaking. Outcast and foreign and you would have looked as she looked. Confused, relieved with such a handsome king, and yet desperately seeking someone to understand and reach out a hand.

You had no hands to give. You hated her instantly at that moment. Your rival. Was this how the first wife felt? You looked to her and she only smiled at you and the King and Sade. How could she stomach this shit?

You looked towards the King. He watched you, a slight furrow in his brow. How could he do this right after the night you spent together? After confessing your love for each other? Would he enter her bedroom on their wedding night and plant a baby so easily inside of her? Or would he wait as he did for you, coaxing you into bed, just so he could leave for the next one?

Your body shook without your permission. You trembled with rage and you hated showing even that much. You placed your hand against your belly as you flushed with heat. If you pressed hard enough, this terrible dream would end. You would wake up in the circle of his arms and laugh this dream away.

“Are you alright?” The King asked.

“I’m going to be sick.” You fled from the room. Fled from the circle of people who welcomed this new bride into your lives. Fled from the stupid, childish notion that he would have stopped with you. That it would have just been you and the silent wife.

You wanted to laugh. You pitied the first wife when you got here. You felt sorry for her that she had to watch you come along, kissing at breakfast like lovesick fools. Now you were asked to do the same. To share the love of your life with another. Someone newer, younger, daintier. You had wished for him to find someone more wifely. Ha! Who was more wifely than someone likely raised with the knowledge that she would be given away for a political alliance?

She was likely raised and taught to speak well, think well, with knowledge of subjects you could only dream of. She likely knew how to run a household, to help ease the burdens of her husband. As a wife to a King? She probably already had knowledge on how to please him. How to make him laugh.

She was completely refined and you were no more than a common village girl who no one wanted. Tears finally streamed down your cheeks as you rushed down the hallways. The pale color of the walls only served to make you sicker, weaker. You ran to your room, slamming the door behind you. You locked it and then ran to your balcony.

You could only see part of the lands from here. The view before you was mostly jungle. You folded your arms around your stomach, trying to keep your insides intact. Trying to keep your emotions in check. You quaked with unreleased grief.

You survived your childhood. You survived your hateful father. You survived disgusting people with wandering hands and twisted words. You would survive this too. It hurt like hell, but you would survive this.

You were not weak. You were not small. You were not so dumb as to believe that you would have ever mattered to anyone but yourself. You were born alone and you would die alone. And that would have to suffice.

The Secret King Ghezo Files | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret King Ghezo Files #King Ghezo x Black!reader #King Ghezo x Black reader #King Ghezo x Fem!reader #King Ghezo x Fem reader #King Ghezo x reader #King Ghezo x you #x Black reader #The Woman King fanfic #The Woman King fan fic #The Woman King fanfiction #The Woman King fan fiction #King Ghezo

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alastxrs · 4 months

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Hey, saw you you took requests, could you do some fluffy head cannons with velvette x male reader where reader is a fallen angel and they are short but they have huge fuckin wings, and can u make them an angy lil fella

𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥

Y/N is of course a fallen angel

He's around 5'5

The reason he fell is due to his pride and his wrath

Now his wings are bigger than he is

He thought that he would lose them when he fell but nope! His wings are just black now

His wings will forever be beautiful, better than any other angel's wings

He'll sometimes let Velvette do whatever with them

The way he and Velvette met actually was because Y/N was screaming to someone about them touching his wings

He's just angry about having big wings but he gets worse rage when people touch his wings! (the only one who gets a pass is Velvette because you two actually get close until she asks you out)

He almost killed Valentino because he tried to touch his wings and have sex with him

Once Velvette and Y/N start dating, he's been comfortable with letting her touch his wings

She'll be the one to take care of his feathers

She'll just randomly caress his cheeks just to see his wings flop

His wings can wrap around the both of them while hugging or cuddling

Her nicknames for him are dove, midget, and doll

His nicknames for her are darling, my love, and Vel

He hates Vox and Valentino with a passion but will help Velvette with anything

Velvette is seriously the only one who can calm Y/N down

❝𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒!❞

Velvette jumped when she heard the scream from inside the room she shared with her boyfriend.

She was used to it yet it caught her off guard every time.

Vox tilted his head when looking up from his phone. "Your boyfriend has been in town here for a while yet he's always screaming about his wings instead of your name." he hummed, mainly teasing her.

"Fuck off, Vox!" She flipped her business partner off as an annoyed look formed on her face. "At least I can control my man."

Vox scoffed rolling his eyes. "I'm not his keeper you know."

"Well you should be, your boy toy is fucking irritating."

"He's not my boy toy."

"That's not what last night was telling me, he was screaming your name." That made Vox shut his mouth and the television head turned his head away to avoid her smug smirk.

The female Overlord just walked away from the other not wanting to continue the conversation and to check on her lover.

Upon entering the room, where her partner was.

Y/N was laying on the bed with his wings completely covering the bed and his arms crossed, she knew how much he hated his wings mainly due to how big they were.

"Hey, dove-" She started before she was cut off by him.

The fallen angel sat up at the sight of his girlfriend with an irritated look on his face. "That bitch, Valentino fucking scared the shit out of me again!" He spoke as he fixed his hair and he looked at his wings with a frown. "He tried asking me for a threesome again! I don't like sharing you!!!"

Velvette couldn't help but smile as she approached her boyfriend and gently caressed his cheeks to make him look at her, she gently rubbed his cheeks while listening.

"And I refuse to fuck that flat-faced fuck!" Y/N was slowly relaxing and he wrapped his arms around her waist. ".....and- fuck you can't keep calming me down like this whenever I get mad...."

The taller demon chuckled and kissed him on the forehead, only he could see this side of her.

Like only she can see his soft side.

The woman kept kissing all over his face. " I like it when you're putty in my hands, doll~!" She teased just to see the blush on his cheeks, she moved to sit on his lap as she pushed him down. "I mean look at how cute you are!"

Velvette took her phone out and took a picture of Y/N before she showed him in the picture.

Of course, she wasn't going to post the picture.

Only she can see the hickeys on his neck from the night before.

"Darling...." The male mumbled as he grabbed her phone and placed it on the stand next to their bed before he pulled her into a kiss, his wings wrapped around her to keep the both of them close. He pulled away from the kiss for a second. "You are so lucky I love you."

The Overlord giggles as she begins kissing all over his face.

A yelp escaped his face and he tried to cover his face so that he could stop her from kissing his face. "No!"

Velvette grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head.

"Don't hide your pretty face from me, dove! Heaven gave it to me and you aren't hiding it from me."

That made the short-tempered fallen angel's face flustered and he couldn't help but laugh as he leaned into the kisses he was getting on his lips.

"Well as your 𝐝𝐨𝐯𝐞, you should spoil me again tonight hm?" Y/N's wings soon disappeared now that he was relaxed, she let go of his wrist as he moved his hands to her hair. "I do want to remind others that I'm taken by the most sassiest of the Vees~!"

And of course, she couldn't deny her little dove from heaven.

This method....is very affective....

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette #x male reader #velvette x reader #velvette x male reader #hazbin hotel velvette x male reader #hazbin hotel velvette x reader #hazbin hotel vox #no smut #fluff stuff #x reader #male reader #fallen angel reader #stinky valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #this does have a make out session-#uhhhh i tried with fluff best i could

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sparrowrye · 4 months

Text

Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part 2

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies you also die. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes.

Part 2 summary: Escape is futile

Part Pilot

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And the winner is Python!"

I turned my head from the bloody sight. I had brutally murdered an innocent fighter like myself. But I had to do it. It was my only chance out of here and they were far too mentally gone to even have a chance at a normal life.

I pushed myself up on one foot and limped to the gate. The crowd above roared my fighter name and bets were being collected. My master picked me up and looked down at my injured foot. Usually a head collar was strapped on to keep me from using magic against him, but he had recently gotten more comfortable without it.

I flicked my wrist behind his back. The sweat from my forehead jumped off and sliced through his throat. He dropped me and fell, clutching his throat. I scrambled to my feet and bolted around the cages containing my brothers and sisters in fighting. I ran past the unknowing guard at the gate and into the crowd.

I could taste the sweet taste of freedom beyond those fences. All I had to do was hide in the woods until dawn. It was easy. The crowd didn't know what was happening and people often tried to run out on a poor bet. No one would interfere.

Except one.

Rope wrapped around my throat and snapped my head backwards. The force slammed my back into the cold ground. I coughed violently as I pulled the rope loose. Spit fell out of my lips as I looked up. Standing on the other end of the rope was Striker, a Full mage who liked to terrify others with his illusionist demonic appearance.

He pulled on the rope and it tightened again. I slipped my hand under it and tried to dig my chin between my neck and it. He pulled even tighter, rougher, and pulled me forward, forcing me to fall on my stomach. I sent wind and dirt but he casted a shield of around himself.

I looked to the side and pretended to lift something. His glance was all I needed. I leaned forward and pulled the rope over my head. I barely made two steps before something caught my foot. I tried to pull that one off but the ropes kept coming. My neck, my shoulder, my wrist, and my knee. I flailed and threw every magic I could at his ropes. Yet it did nothing. A Slight hand was no match for a Full mage.

Henchmen appeared and pulled the ropes in different directions. It was mere seconds to have me completely immobile on the cold ground. Striker stepped inches from my face before kneeling down and grabbing my chin. He lifted the rope around my neck at the same time, painfully contorting my neck in what felt like a 90 degree angle.

"Looks like you're mine now, sweetheart," he purred, "'til the day you die." He let go of my head and my face slammed down into the pavement.

I jerked my head up from the pillow with a yelp. I found myself in an old, dusty room with sunlight streaming in from the window. I sat up and examined every inch of the room. How the hell did I get here?

I tried to think past the nightmare but was met with a mental block. Who's house was this? Why am I here? When did I change into a white gown? Who's bed is this?

I put my feet on the cold carpet and padded over to the window. I looked out at a wide open sea and a sheer cliff-face. That's when it connected. I had evaded the worse fighter master for five years and landed right in the claws of the Radio Demon.

A light knock came at the door. I dove into the corner and put my hand up, ready to cast at a moment's notice. But the person who entered wasn't the Radio Demon, but a different one. He resembled a combination of a cat and bird, his entire body covered in gray and white fur and his wings a gorgeous bright red. He had a black top hat sitting between his ears.

"You're awake," he said, "Good. Your clothes are in the wardrobe. Alastor wants to speak with you before he leaves so hurry up." He shut the door.

My neck hairs bristled at being told what to do. I didn't waste five years of freedom to be told what to do again solely because my soul happened to be bound to the worse Full mage of the century.

Yet there was nothing I could do.

I opened the wardrobe to find old dresses that looked like they were from the 1930s. Maybe the 40s or 50s? They were old, that much was obvious. Not my style, either.

Now he's dressing me.

I swallowed hard and picked a long skirt and button down. I locked myself in the bathroom, grateful that it had a lock, and quickly dressed. The sink had a bowl of water in it which told me this old house didn't have working pipes.

I gently splashed my eyes with the ice cold water to wake myself up. I found an old brush in one of the drawers and brushed out my messy hair. It had taken nearly three years to really understand how to take care of this hair. I had grown it out after escaping the rings to make myself more unnoticeable.

I let out a sigh. I closed my eyes and took a moment to ready myself for the next encounter with the mage. He couldn't kill me. He would kill himself in the process. If he tried to keep my in a cage like the others a little self harm should do the trick. I had options. I could handle this. I had handled worse. Right?

Outside the room wasn't much better off. The floorboards caved under my weight and spewed dust up in my face. I sneezed a few times on my way down, careful not to touch anything in case it disintegrated upon contact.

The staircase to the foyer was tight and narrow. I could clearly see the deep purple and dark brown accents of the house now. It didn't exactly look pretty. Though I couldn't imagine much thought was put into any part of this old house.

I turned at the last step to find my soulmate standing by the cold fire. He seemed to be looking at something before he spun to face me. His eyes looked me from head to toe and back again. My fingers tightened into a fist subconsciously.

"Mm, it'll do." I bristled at the comment but he crossed the living room in seconds to stand in front of me. I took a step back. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine."

"Come sit, I have much to tell you before I leave." He stepped to the side and gestured to the room. His other hand was behind his back holding his cane; the cane that made me feel like I was always being watched with the creepy little eye on it.

I looked up at his red eyes before forcing myself to walk into the room and sit on one of the hideous old chairs. He sat on the other one on the opposite side of the fireplace and crossed his legs elegantly. I crossed my ankles and put my hands in my lap. I hated dresses but I had watched enough women and explored the internet enough to know how to sit 'properly'. He seemed like the type to correct me on manners.

"I'll make this simple since I have places to be," he started, "My rules are very simple. Rule number one, you're not to leave the premises. You have until the tree-line before you're considered off this property. Rule number two, you can go anywhere in the house except for my room and office. They're beside each other on the second floor. Don't worry, they're locked so you can't mistake them for another room." His eyes narrowed a tad. "Rule number three, don't bother me. You can do anything you like, request nearly anything from Husker, but do not disturb me."

"May I ask a question?" I ventured. My head was tilted down a little and my eyes glared up at him.

"Yes you may." He laid his cane on his lap.

"If you want nothing to do with me, why the hell are you keeping me here?"

"Silly girl," he chuckled, "I told you last night. I need not worry about my soulmate dying in wasteful ring fights. If you die, I die. Not to mention, if people discovered we were connected you would undoubtedly find yourself against very powerful mages that could kill you in half a second." I gritted my teeth, unsure of how to respond. "And as I said last night, you should be grateful that I'm providing you with a safe haven."

"A safe haven that's about to collapse?" I remarked, looking around at the dusty boards and picking at the old ratted chair.

"Well," he laughed, "if you're bored you could always fix up the place."

"Can't you do that with your oh-so-powerful magic?"

"I have more important things to use my magic on. Besides, your Slight magic should be enough to fix up the things you need." I was about to argue when he abruptly stood up. "Well, I must be going now. I do hope I won't have to remind you of my rules. They are rather simple and easy to follow. Good day." He didn't bother to use the door, disappearing into the shadows and melting into the floor.

I stared at where he had disappeared for a long moment. My eyes then trailed around the room, examining its every inch. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Boards creaked and I looked over to see Husker appearing from the hallway. "I'm sorry to hear that you have a shitty soulmate," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

"I never believed in soulmates, really." I stood up to walk over to him. We looked roughly the same height until I got closer and discovered to be a few inches taller. "Is there a reason why you're...here? With him?"

"I'm under Alastor's service for an extended period of time," he answered, turning back down the hallway. I followed him through the narrow entryway and came to an old kitchen. "He told me I'm to fulfill most of your requests."

"Why do you listen to him?"

"For my own reasons," he growled, "I'm not about to let you run off, if that's what you're trying to get at. He can't kill you but he can kill me, and he will if I let you run off."

"Right." I quietly left the room to explore the rest of the house. Next to the kitchen was the dinning room. It was full of random old furniture that looked like someone had dumped the insides of a victorian home here. It circled back to the staircase and sitting room. On the other side of the sitting room was a library study. The books looked like they were nests for spiders, moths, and bookworms.

Upstairs had another sitting room but was mostly filled with old bedrooms and bathrooms. I quickly discovered which rooms belonged to Alastor. Directly across from 'my' bedroom were two locked doors side by side. So long as he came and went at early or late hours of the day, I could avoid him easy.

Escaping shouldn't be hard, though. A pang of guilt went through me as I thought of Husker having to deal with the repercussions. He was obviously a Full mage if he could conjure up a demonic illusion like that. Though what for while he was here, I'm not sure. Perhaps a scare tactic. I shook the thought from my head. I had killed people with my bare hands on the concept of "Me or them". This would be no different.

"Say," I found Husker drinking something in the kitchen, "could we fix the pipes so we can have running water?"

Husker shrugged. "Sure. You want to help?" The side glance his black eyes made me want to incline.

"Sure."

Outside had a cool, ocean breeze crossing the field. I instantly found the tree line Alastor spoke of. The first challenge of escaping would be crossing the field. There was nothing to hide behind or use for a shield. I had to buy time to cross the field and take shelter in the dense trees.

Husker went to the side of the house where an old well stood a few paces from it. He put his hands on the ground and seemed to search through the earth. A moment later he snapped his black eyes open and looked up at me.

"Clean out the well and dig further down until you reach water." He said as he pointed to the stoned circle. I stood on the side that put it between me and Husker. I had heard too many tales of people losing their life to a deep well.

Husker fixed the pipes underground and through the house while I fixed the source. I knew my next request to him was to allow me more clothes that fit my style. And more pants. I kept quiet until the brown water turned into pristine, clear running water from all the faucets.

I dried my hands on my dress in the kitchen and asked, "How did you know I had magic?"

"Alastor told me."

"Right."

"I've also seen you in the fight rings before."

"You what?" I bristled.

"Relax," he grabbed the same bottle from the counter, "I wasn't a master or anything. I was running the bets and gambling." That didn't make me feel any better. How could he just let them keep those fights going? His appearance gave me my answer.

So I changed the subject. "How would you suggest I ask you for different clothes? These aren't exactly right for me." I looked down at the elongated skirt.

He let out a sigh and pulled out a phone. My heart quickened. "Find what you're looking for and screenshot what you want. Then tell me your size."

"You know, that's not exactly how sizes for women work," I tried. "One size in one store could be very different than another."

"Then pick one store and tell me what sizes," he replied. My heart dropped and I took the phone from him.

****

I gave myself a week before my first escape attempt. I had to know Alastor's schedule and Husker's routine. I also need to ensure they weren't bracing for my first attempt. A week should be long enough, surely.

Alastor left in the mornings before or right at dawn and returned at some point well after dusk. Husker preferred to be in the living room or on the outside porch drinking alcohol. I guessed that he had some kind of magic that kept the effects of alcohol to a minimum so he could still keep an eye on me. I made it a habit to join him on the porch most of the time, reading the one book I could think of off the top of my head for him to get.

Alastor had made two more rules since my arrival. Well, one official rule and one implicit. The explicit one was no unsupervised internet access. No phone, no computer, nothing. I had no connection to the outside world.

The implicit rule was my clothing style. Any 'modern' clothing that was even close to being considered immodest disappeared from my wardrobe the next day. This meant he was keeping a close eye on me despite his rules to keep as much distance between the two of us as possible. I had to be careful. I didn't know what type of magic he was using and if he could see me at any point.

But I was ready.

It was a blue evening, the setting sun hidden behind a raincloud. The rain hadn't quite reached us yet but the strong gusts were moving the clouds closer and closer. As much as I didn't want to escape on a rainy night, it was the best chance I had. Muddy conditions and rain made it difficult to see and operate in. For most people. Most likely for Full mages who were used to having everything handed to them on a plate thanks to their power.

Husker had just finished another one of his whiskey bottles and went inside for another. I whispered an apology as the door closed and I stood up from my chair. I used my magic to push against the wood from underneath so they didn't creak. I jumped the stairs and as soon as my feet hit the grass I ran.

I pushed wind against my back to help carry me across the field. My heart pounded in my ears as I reached the tree line and disappeared behind the closest large tree. I sank to the ground and peaked around the tree. I didn't see Husker yet.

I turned and ran further into the forest. The wind from the storm made it easy to maneuver through the dense forest. I had no idea where the closest town or city was but I needed to put as much distance between me and the house as possible.

There was no notion of time as I kept running. My legs burned and chest hurt but I didn't dare stop until I could barely stand. I pushed through the pain and veered off to the side, hoping they would search in the other direction. The rain had started and trees bent against the strong winds, pushing back as best they could. I took this as my cue to find a hiding spot until the storm cleared up.

I picked one of the trees and started pulling up the dirt and roots. I would dig myself a little burrow and wait out the storm. The wind pulled aggressively on my clothes and hair. It felt incredibly strong for a storm and it made my blood run cold. I frantically looked around in search of the bright red of Alastor's coat or Husker's wings. This wasn't natural wind. This was from magic. They were searching for me.

The trees practically uprooted themselves as the wind pushed against them, opening the forest floor to the sky for a moment. I briefly saw Husker's red wings in the sky before the trees cut my line of sight. I dove to the side before the trees opened again. I felt like a field mouse running from a coyote in the field grass.

Husker dropped through the canopy and locked eyes with me. He curled his claws inward and the tree branches reached for me. I pushed against them with wind and snaked through their reaches. I stayed as close to the ground as I possibly could. I needed someplace to defend, somewhere that he couldn't reach me. The forest was proving to be a horrible idea.

Wind and fire were my best friends as I evaded and burned the branches that grabbed at me. Husker went back to the skies and attempted to create a wall with the trees. A branch caught my foot and dragged me towards its trunk. I opened the earth near it and pulled its roots up. I used the storm and pushed the tree all the way down. I jumped into the ditch and pulled the roots back over me, partially covering me from the sky. Husker flapped overhead, arms crossed.

I dug into the earth and filled it up behind me. The further down I went the farther I was from the reach of the trees. Several times he tried to catch me with the roots but he couldn't see me anymore. I had broken his line of sight. That's how you defeat a Full mage, I realized. If the mage couldn't see you, then they didn't know what they were doing.

I picked a random direction and started tunneling again. I didn't get far, though, as I realized my great fault. I had filled most of the earth behind me and it cut off my airway. It was freezing this far down and I was lacking oxygen. I was suffocating. I was already sweating and exhausted but not I was truly fighting for my life.

Praying that they were digging after me in the original spot, I start tunneling back up. Going up was far easier than going down but I was already exhausted, physically, mentally, and magically. I had to take several stops, struggling to breathe.

After what felt like an hour, I reached tree roots. I grabbed hold of one and used the last of my magic strength to pull myself through the dirt. I clambered through the dirt and sucked in the fresh air. I frantically looked around, half expecting Husker to jump on me from behind. But he was nowhere in sight. The light rain had turned into a downpour but the tree I was under gave me enough shelter from it.

I looked around for several moment before collapsing against the trunk. I took deep breaths of the sweet fresh air and let the rain drops patter on my face. Had I done it? Were they digging after me or looking elsewhere for my tunnel exit? It didn't matter. I just needed a few minutes to recover.

"Well done."

My breathing caught in my throat. I looked up to see Alastor leaning against the tree staring down at me. His smile was still plastered on his face and the sarcasm was heavy. I scrambled to my feet and backed away from him.

"I must say I'm impressed that you managed to evade Husker but I'm sorely disappointed that you can't follow simple instructions." He was leaning forward enough this he was at my eye level and creeping towards me.

“I'm disappointed you thought I would just stay put like a pet," I returned with heavy breathing. I was so tired. I didn't know if I had the energy to run from him.

He chuckled at my retort. "I knew you would attempt to run. You watched my schedule. You knew I wouldn't be back until later. I know exactly how your mind works."

“Do you, now?" Using my peripherals, I willed the roots from the nearest tree to uproot and wrap around his legs, making sure not to touch him yet. "Then you'll know that a cornered animal fights back until they die." I snapped the roots tightly around him. He looked down and I ran. I was so tired but desperation kept my blood boiling in all my fights.

I used the strong wind and rode it into the sky. I threw myself as high as I could and looked around. It was nothing but trees. No town, no city, no house, absolutely no sign of humanity. I was in the middle of nowhere.

I dropped into the trees and hide among the branches, eyes desperately scanning the ground. I leaned back to sit on my heels but the strength in my arm had disappeared. I lost my grip on the branch and fell backwards, hitting branches on my way down.

I landed hard on my back and felt a crack run through my spine. I sucked in a gasp of air and stared up at the gray sky. I gripped at the wet grass and tried to pull my strength back in. Alastor appeared above me a moment later, smiling down at my paralyzed body. He knelt beside my head so his ugly yellow smile came closer to my face.

"This suites you," he said, "this desperation. You're trying so hard to escape no matter what it does or if it kills you." He pushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "Unfortunately for you, it matters to me because we share the same fate."

"Fuck you."

His smile lessened slightly. "I'll add another rule for you to follow." He grabbed my throat and hoisted me to my feet. His claws dug painfully into my skin until I could feel my blood soaking my shirt. He pushed me against a tree and leaned in close to my face. I pulled on his wrist and tried not to cough in his face. "Rule number five. Never speak to me in such a way again." He paused. "Words like that are unbefitting for a woman."

"You can..." I struggled to speak clearly, "you can...keep me here but...but I'm...but I will not play...play by your rules." My heart was racing as his grip tightened even more so. He dies if you die. He dies if you die. I repeated in my head.

He let go of me and I fell face first into the ground. I gasped and coughed up spit as I rubbed my throat. "Give it time." I saw his feet walk around to stand in front of me. "I can be very persuasive."

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #soulmates #soulmate au

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