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silverinkbottle · 2 months

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Thank you @littlemango420 and everyone who got me to 50 reblogs!

well this is exciting!! I promise to keep writing!

hi! hello! your velvette fic was literally amazing, i read it like at least 5 times haha! the way you write is,, wow.

anywho, i wanna request a rosie fic if that’s alright!! with a reader who’s hellborn and finds a lot of excuses to visit pride ring/cannibal town (totally not just to see rosie) bonus if reader’s a hellhound! i just really loved the way you wrote sphynx reader with velvette, animal themed demons have a soft spot in my heart ❤️ another bonus, the two are incredibly flirty with each other

thanks for your time!

A:N: Hello Anon!!! Thank you so much for the sweet request, I hope you enjoy!!

Summary: Being a Courier of Hell has it's perks; benefits, travel and sometimes the occasional yearning friendship

Warnings: Violence, Cannibalism

Flowers and Other Things

Rosie X GN!Hellhound!Reader

Word Count:3.2K

The scent of rotting meat permeated the air like a thick perfume as you let out the quietest of excited yips. It finally bloomed after months of waiting and watching as you leaned closer to the cream-colored petals of the giant orchid. The inner depths speckled with crimson as the plant seemed to shudder at your closer inspection as if wanting to welcome you inside. It was just as you suspected another carnivorous plant for the books as you hastily scribbled the observation in your notebook. However, it wouldn’t thrive in Hell with it’s slow maturity phase, it would need to be crossbred with more via-

“Taking a little break, my little Bichon?”

The gentle address startled you from your thoughts as you sheepishly smiled embarrassed at being caught from slacking off your duties. Goods didn’t transport themselves after all in the Seven Rings of Hell. It was a dangerous job, but someone had to do it as you tucked away the small book into your pant’s pocket. Straightening your cap, you clicked your heels together in a quiet greeting as Rosie giggled in amusement.

“Apologies, mam. It’s just that-”

“Oh my stars. It bloomed overnight, I see.” Rosie’s words cut over your own as she clapped her hands together in excitement, grabbing you by the waist to turn you back around to admire the flower. You could feel your heart leap into your throat at the gentle touch as Rosie cooed over the flower’s progress and vibrant shade.

“No wonder you wandered into the garden, Bichon. It’s lovely!” Rosie hummed as you quietly nodded your head in agreement. It’s how your unlikely friendship started afterall. Several months ago, picking up a mail order from Cannibal Town, it was impossible to resist the urge to wander about trying to track the unique scent of the Overlord’s garden. A lush bloom of nature and greenery within the Pride Ring that could rival the hanging gardens of Gluttony. Diligently tended by the lady herself as if were her own children.

“But how did you manage to figure it out, mam. Last time it looked so..sad” You asked as Rosie’s smile brightened flashing sharp pointed teeth.

“All it took was a little bit of positivity, my Bichon. Well, B positive. Seems the soil was a bit too dry for our delicate specimen here.” Rosie explained as the heel of her shoe dug into the brownish dirt. The small impact provoked the faintest puddle of crimson that rapidly retreated back into the earth. The bodies of Sinners had more uses than food in Cannibal Town.

“Now, come with me. I need to give you something.” Rosie insisted as she grabbed you by your paw without hesitation. Once more your heart did that stupid flip flop sensation as you tried to ignore the funny sensation, but even that didn’t stop your tail from giving the smallest of wags.

“Oh now, don’t get anxious. You’ll like this even more than the flower.” Rosie tutted as she mistook your excitement for anxiety. Still, it was a shame as greenery was exchanged for the ceramic floors of the shop. At least it was well-lit as sunlight flitted through the glass interior as you watched Rosie rifle through various storage cabinets with a determined expression.

“My offer still stands on helping you declutter, Miss Rosie.”

There was a clatter of muffin tins and small decorative metal cookie designs as the Overlord swept them aside with a kick of her shoe. She was almost inside the lower cabinet as you leaned further over the counter as your ears twitched at the various noises of shifting items. A bell? Something metallic rubbing against another. A strangely enticing squeak?

“All things are worth keeping, Bichon. You never know when- Ah ha!”

Your eyes went wide as you smelled the item before it was gently set down on the counter. She wasn’t going-, no, you couldn’t.

“I insist. Think of it as a favor for ol’ Rosie. I know you can make it thrive, Bichon.” Rosie praised as she lightly pushed the small burlap sack closer to your stunned form. Even within the protective material, you could still smell the faint metallic scent of the seedling. It’s what drew your attention to its’ parent in the first place as you and Rosie organized seeds one day. In comparison to its’ dramatic parent, the seed itself was a dull green color with a thin shell. So thin that you worried its protective coating would flake away before the plant grew enough roots to properly set in the hard earth.

“But Rosie what if-”

“It fails to thrive? Then, we’ll come up with another plan, my dear.” Rosie promised as she gently pried open your closed paw to place the small sack in it. Gentle, she was so gentle as you were forced to look anywhere but at her.

“I’ll give it my best then.” You promised as Rosie clapped her hands together in delight at your acceptance. There was the faintest chim of the shop’s greeting bell as Rosie rushed away to make quick conversation with the new guest. The small seed package in your hand still felt warm as you quickly tucked it away into your vest pocket. Next to your thudding heart as your keen gaze watched Rosie’s exaggerated hand gestures in her explanation to the guest.

“And the poor dearie thought that violet wouldn’t clash-”

Lively. It was one of the traits you admired in the woman, her seemingly endless supply of energy as it was rare for you to see her sit down. Her heels clicked against the floor as she placed another brown package of her guest as her hand idly waved towards you. The guest raised a brow, but nodded all the same before passing a sealed letter over to the shopkeep.

“Now, don’t you worry. It’ll get there within a day or two. Hellhound Couriers haven’t failed me yet.” Rosie chirped as she ushered the guest out with a flourish of her hand. While the other grabbed the letter off the counter without a second look.

“Where’s it going?” You asked as you opened up the satchel looped over your shoulder. Its contents were depressingly small for the effort it took to get here. Traversing through the Rings could be exhausting and expensive from the impossibly slow crowds of Sloth commuters to the bolder pickpockets of Greed.

“The Envy Ring. Something about a scorned love affair or something. She wasn’t exactly keen on the topic.” Rosie explained with a huff as the woman was a gossip hound at heart. Even as much as she denied it, stating it was mere conversation over tea and cake with a touch of theatrics.

“Want me to try and get more info from the other party?” You suggested with a grin.

“Oh, you know me only too well, Bichon.” Rosie praised as she handed over the letter with a knowing look. It was a fair trade in the end as you knew that she too would be benefiting from advertising your services. Currency freely exchanging hands as Sinners weren’t exactly able to travel between the Rings compared to Hellborne. At least half of your jobs came from the Pride Ring, it would have been even more if you took on more dangerous jobs like weaponry and drugs. Yet, you had seen too many of your fellow Couriers waylaid carrying those sorts of things. No, it’s why you stuck to letters, smaller packages and other less flashy deliveries.

Alarm shot through your form like an unpleasant shock as you spied the time on the wooden grandfather clock in the corner of the shop. Has it been that long? It seemed like merely an hour had passed since your arrival to the garden.

“Shit, Rosie, I’m sorry, I need to-” Your words rambled over each other as you hastily closed up your satchel. Rosie shook her head with a gentle look, she knew what you meant to say as you quickly dashed out the door without another word.

Somehow, it made the small seed packet feel all the warmer against your chest.

Your quaint morning didn’t last long as another client slammed their door in your face. You could easily hear the curses directed towards your unexpected news through the door. What else did the Sinner expect from a loan shark in the Greed ring, clemency? At least it was over and done with as you stepped out onto the cracked pavement of the street. It was almost second nature now to ignore the prickling sensation on the back of your neck as eyes followed your trail.

Hellhounds weren’t unheard of in the Pride Ring, but it was a rarer occurrence. It didn’t help that your company’s logo was stitched on the back of your blue vest ‘Hellhound Couriers. Bones, bags and bodies, we’ll fetch it all.’ in stylized block lettering. At least, the rest of the uniform wasn’t too drastic as you ran a finger over the brim of the knitted cloche hat, smoothing it out. Black slacks tailored for Hellhounds alone as the seams of the ends flared out for larger paws.

Your grip on the satchel tightened as your path was blocked by a pair of Sinners. Now the hair on the back of your neck was raised as the one with goat-like horns picked at sharp teeth with the tip of a knife. While the other held a casual nonchalant air about him, eyes piercing like serpents, but you could see the defined outline of a gun in his coat pocket.

“I told you Jack, it’s funny thing.”

“Oh, is it?” The goat retorted as you took a single step back.

“Ya, we go looking for Hellhound and lookie here. Satchel n all.”

A low growl vibrated in your throat as the would-be thieves eyed you up and down. Fuck, it wasn’t like you couldn’t fight, but it would risk the packages. That wouldn’t do at all. What would the recipient of the lover’s letter from earlier think if the sincere words were stained with blood.

“I don’t want trouble.” You hissed through clench teeth as your ears twitched at the loud click of the gun’s safety going off.

“Well, our associates don’t want debts. So here we are. Now be a good little doggie and hand those papers over.” The goat sinner demanded as he held out his hand, only to pull it back with a sharp scream as your teeth clamped down on flesh and bone. The sudden pull made it even easier for you to vault over the injured man.

“DON’T JUST STAND THERE, SHOOT.” The goat Sinner bleated as you could see him clutching the bleeding stubs of his pointer and index finger while his surprised associate scrambled with the gun.

A single loud crack broke through the air as you took a stuttered gasp of air. Fuck, your lungs burned even though the chase only begun. Blood blossomed over your vest as your shocked brain put two and two together, the bullet had pierced through your back and went out your chest. Hissing through the pain, you did your best to stifle the warm blood with your palm. It still dripped slowly onto the pavement as you scrambled into another alleyway. Copper hazily fogged your sense of smell as you tried to focus on anything but the wound. You needed a plan.

Quickly.

Another bullet thudded into the brick wall above your head as you willed your strained body to move once again. Blood, too much blood had been lost as you could feel the edges of your vision begin to flicker with black spots. Still, hope flickered in your chest as you caught sight of the familiar brass lettering of the gateway, all it was going to take was a few more steps.

“Fuck.” The curse spilled from your lips half spoken and half in a howl as a bullet tore through your lower left leg. Your sharp nails dragged into the concrete below as you tried to pull yourself forward, even with the numbing sensation spreading throughout your body.

“Could have made this all the easier if you had given us the damn-” The goat sinner growled as you felt the cool tip of the gun brush over the tops of your ears. His words muddled as you feebly tried to shrink away from the weapon. His mocking laughter rang in your head as you weakly held on the satchel as it was ripped from your form. The noise stuttered to a halt as the pointed tip of a knife protruded from his eye, warm blood dripped onto your cold form as you could hear the soft shake of an umbrella.

“Now, now that isn’t necessary.”

“You crazy bi-”

Another shriek pierced the air as the packed earth beneath you rumbled like a startled beast. Something wrapped around your midriff as it pulled you forward toward the gateway. You could feel the unintentional prick of thorns over your skin as the thing shuddered protectively before carefully setting you upright, still supporting you about your waist.

Vines? You blinked rapidly trying to clear the fog from your vision as you lightly brushed over the foliage. Yes, vines as the thing shuddered as you accidentally pricked yourself on a sharp thorn allowing dark blood to drip over its’ green-brown ‘flesh’.

“Now let’s take a look at you, looking a bit peaky, my little Bichon.”

“Rosie?”

Her gentle smile was the last thing you saw as the world was blanketed in darkness.

Soft. Warm. Too warm. You jolted upward as hot fire ripped through your chest from the exertion. Fuck, that was right, you had been shot, your sharp nails digging into your chest felt like a gentle caress compared to the throbbing muscle beneath it.

“Now, now. Let’s not be hasty.” The gentle voice was melodic in your ears as Rosie’s hands gently removed your tensed nails and held your paws in her own. You tried to speak, but your dried lips went mute as Rosie fussed over you. Holding cool water to your lips as you eagerly wet your parched throat. The back of her hand on your forehead as she tried to gauge the potential on-set for a fever.

She was taking care of you.

In her personal quarters.

In her bed.

“I removed the bullets, don’t fret. Seems like you are already healing up from that little misadventure, lamb.” Rosie tutted as she could see your eyes bounce around the room. It was surprisingly sparsely decorated.The bed, a modest wardrobe, a single bouquet of flowers in a crystal vase on the bedside table. The vase inhabits some sort of snapdragon that flared out with bright crimson petals.

The cool sheets did little to hide your flaming face as Rosie chuckled at your poor attempt to burrow yourself further under the cotton sheets. Anything to hide the pure scalding embarrassment of the disastrous day and having to be rescued by the Overlord of all people.

“Honestly, those interlopers must have been desperate to get after you for entering the Town uninvited. Whatever could have set them off.” Rosie questioned as you muttered an answer in a half-hearted explanation about Greed Ring loan sharks and bills. Or well coming due problems as you got a split second glance at the material when it was thrown back at your face.

“Ruffians. The lot of them. Going after my little Bichon like that. Well, Miss Tufele and Mr.Remius were delighted to have the late lunch-in. Gave me the most lovely of little tea cakes that we’ll-”

“I am sorry for causing you problems. Miss Rosie. It’s not becoming of my -”

“Hush.”

Your apology was cut off by a single finger against your muzzle as you went mute as commanded. Delicate, she was so gentle towards you as sharp nails brushed over your face. Treating you with as light a hand as a new sprout ready to be transplanted into the outside soil. Now a different sort of heat brushed through your fur, a slow warm ooze that started from the tips of your ears down to your toes. All because of a simple chaste kiss on your black snout as Rosie’s fingertips ghosted over your alert ears.

“Rosie, can I-”

“Oh, sweet Bichon, even in your injured state of are all manners” Rosie teased as your tail wagged at the flirtatious inflection in her tone. Her girlish giggles were like the chimes of the most delightful bells as your lips met for a proper kiss. Short, sweet and to the point as her perfume fluttered over your form. She always did smell delightful, but now up close, it was like a banquet. Sweet smelling vanilla and the gentle notes of roses. The faintest taste of copper as you leaned in to deepen the kiss, , but at the same time you whined as your injured flesh twinged from the movement.

The sharper sound ended the kiss quickly as Rosie clucked her tongue at your hasty actions.

“Now, there will be time for that later.”

You couldn’t help but sink dramatically into the pillows with a sigh as Rosie patted the top of your head with a chuckle.

“I promise.” Rosie muttered against the top of your ears as the sensitive things twitched from the brush of warm air against them. Still, you did as she asked and gave her a winning smile which she winked at.

“Well, this is a change. Usually I can’t get you to sit and stay for the briefest second of calm. Always underfoot like a cat in the kitchen wanting to help me with something. Although, I do have a request, next time, show up at my doorstep unbloodied, bichon.” Rosie hummed as she flitted around the room. Opening up the window to let fresh air inside as the low rays of the sunset crept into the interior.

“I’ll promise, Miss Rosie. Thank you..for..the..exciting day..” You promised as Rosie smiled that gentle sincere smile that made your heart flutter like a Hellhound pup over a bone.

“Think nothing of it, Bichon. Now how about a bit of tea?”

That’s how you spent the next few days. Sending apologetic letters to clients about needing to recuperate from unexpected delays. A few hesitant steps around the garden, Rosie on your arm giving encouragement. Piping hot tea and the little ginger cakes that you got to howl your praises over. Most memorable was the gentle kiss on your cheek as you left, satchel on your shoulder and a promise to come visit within the next few days.

Things were looking up in Hell.

#50 reblogs #tumblr milestone #thank you

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silverinkbottle · 2 months

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I love it when a fandom collectively rallies around something. All this cursed cat alastor content is making my day so much better.

#cursed cat alastor

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silverinkbottle · 2 months

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Tumblr has been a blessing and burden for my writing habit. Totally not joining yet another fandom after binging both the anime/manga..

but the problem is I have so many stories I want to write 🫡🫡🫡

#jjk fanfic #jjk fandom #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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silverinkbottle · 2 months

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Links how do they work 😭😭😭

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silverinkbottle · 2 months

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Chapter 4: Off/ On

A/N: The little world of your passionate affair is starting to fall apart, the cause of trouble in paradise? Bed rest.

Previous chapter here

Content Warning: Sexual content ahead! Oral Sex Female, hair-pulling, fingering, masturbation. Canon typical violence.

Word Count:6.3K

You hated bed rest. It made you ill-tempered, restless, and above all painfully self-aware. The sheer brittleness of the human body as each breath made your ribs ache. Worst of all was Mihawk’s nonchalant attitude about the entire situation. Even now in the quiet of the afternoon, your head perched on his thigh all but radiating exasperation was met with a sigh, the folding of newspaper as he tossed it on the table.

“Now whatever is the matter”

Off

Flat tone. The cool expression as you clenched your jaw trying to find the right words. A mere man trying to peel back the layers of hesitation without making you retreat into your metaphorical shell. You knew better than most that Dracule Mihawk seemed to have two distinct modes, off was lax, patient, and willing to indulge in the little tasks of daily life. A man before the myth. The quiet fondness in his gaze as your words came out coarsely, but honest. A good start.

“Why are you with me?”

The words tumbled out of your mouth without a second thought. Your cheeks burned at the naive idea, worsening still as Mihawk’s soft laughter filled the quiet. Aching ribs protested as you arched upward to grab his shirt collar, pain flickering over your features from the movement. His laughter faded as he noted the seriousness of your expression. A weary sigh slipped from him as he was quick to maneuver you into a far more comfortable position. Your back against the couch as he carefully hovered above you, piercing gaze making it impossible to look anywhere else.

“I swear if you say it’s because of the sex-”

“I wasn’t aware we were having sex at this moment, Dove. Yet, I’m still here.” Mihawk drawled as his face leaned closer to yours. Mere centimeters away you were quick to meet him in an annoyingly short kiss. All too familiar frustration prickled at your mood as he retreated out of reach.

“I’m being serious.” You hissed as Mihawk rolled his eyes at your insistence. He had created this issue, leaving you with your thoughts as he played nurse-maid.

“Because of your remarkable stubbornness. It’s surprisingly endearing watching you gnaw at a bone of a topic. Once it’s presented to you.” Mihawk admitted fondly as you could feel your cheeks heat at the sincerity. Stubborn, huh?

“Or should I say your drive? Once you set your sights on something, it’s near impossible to redirect that energy. Despite the many efforts of outsiders, you can’t help yourself. It’s both frustrating and admirable.”

The praise curled around your head like the rasping purr of a domestic cat. The faintest hint of a wry smile on your lips as Mihawk had a point. When caught in a zealous mindset, you throw caution to the wind without a second thought. The rewards outweigh the risks at the smallest tip of the scale. Reckless, ambitious, and selfish, are all traits that could be applied to you when lost in your whims.

“It’s what made me curious at first. During our first meeting, you were quick to take control of the situation.”

“Mihawk, what else was I supposed to do at the moment? Ignore the pressing issue of several corpses where men stood a mere second ago. Disregard the gore-covered Warlord that looked seconds away from passing out on my ship’s deck.” You pressed as Mihawk’s eyes rolled at your exaggeration.

It wasn’t though. It was all true as you had forced yourself to speak out amidst the shocked crowd. Offering the warlord a bath and resting in your quarters while your instincts screamed at you for the blunt proposition. Like accidentally hooking a shark instead of a fat fish, but trying to reel it in regardless. So, you kept your word as hot steam drifted out the open windows, doing your best to ignore the splash of water over your floors.

“All for the chance to taper off a dangerous situation. Trying to appraise each passing second without having to act on it-”

“Almost like I excelled at reading body language, even from someone as muted as you were.” You said pointedly as you kept your tone even. He was giving you far too much credit. Past you were mere minutes from being spooked when the Warlord’s gaze settled on you through the steam. Wanting nothing more than to flee with your tail between your legs

“But you kept your bearings, only asking if I wished for anything else. Even though I may have just ruined your brothel’s reputation by my mere presence”

“You give me too much credit, even a daft girl would find it favorable to be in the good graces of a Warlord-”

“Despite the risk-”

“Yes.”

There was that rare smile of Mihawk’s that made your heart race. Goosebumps ghosted over your skin as his hand stoked your reddened cheeks. Calloused fingers flirted over your twitching pulse as it bounced with your increasing heartbeat. The strong pull of his hand in yours as he eased you up from the sofa. Slowly lowering you down onto your bed the air shifted to a heavier mood.

On.

A man acting on sheer instinct alone. The one that wanted to coax all your little weaknesses out into the open and tame them. His words in arguments cut as sharp as the blade he wielded if required. Maneuvering you this way and that until you found yourself cornered to face the blunt truth. Some called it selfish, others called it cunning, but you knew Mihawk liked the little bits of chaos that could be found on the open sea. Allowing the hunter to watch as life changed the shape of prey into something more worthy of tracking down. A pirate in a cynic’s jaded perspective.

“My.” The soft pressure of the mattress curled around you as you sank into it. Mihawk’s form above you as his thumb unbuttoned the top of your blouse.

“Clever.” Another button.

“Impatient.” The word came out with a low chuckle as you squeezed your legs together. Trying to ignore the slow-burning want in your gut as you knew Mihawk’s actions would slow to a snail’s pace if you rushed him.

“Stubborn.” Fondness as he undid the last button of your blouse revealing the black lace beneath. A dull weapon of seduction in a last-ditch effort to escape your imposed bedrest. The faint spark of lust in his eyes as his hand slipped under the sheer fabric to fondle your right breast. The twitch in the corner of his mouth as your form shuddered in want.

“Greedy.” Your hips twitched longingly as he reached for the button on your trousers. Clicking his tongue disapprovingly you wiggled impatiently. Your faint whine sounded all the louder in the quiet of the room as the cool air whispered over your bare legs.

“Oh fuck-

“Paramour.” His final word edged over your curse as his teeth caught the side of the lace ribbon on your hip. Your nails dig into the soft fabric of the sheets as you watch the knot grow smaller and smaller. Even that slight movement seemed to make him pause as you glared at his amused head shake. Any further protests from you turned into a quiet battle of wills as his gaze burned into yours.

A quiet request. Just let go.

“We do need to work on your guard. You are showing all your cards right now, Dove.” Mihawk purred against your throat, pressing a warm kiss to your racing pulse. All you could manage was a strangled noise as you were all too aware of your twitching walls. Hot heat waiting to be breached by something, anything would do at this point.

“Cheater.” He wasn’t playing fair in the slightest. You felt like a rope about to snap after days of being treated like some vestal virgin.

Mihawk was dragging this out to a mind-numbing degree as his breath ghosted over your stomach. Strong hands curling over your thighs to spread your legs further apart. The cool exposure sent tingles down your spine as you smothered a moan with your hand. Mihawk’s gaze darkened with lust at the soft sound as his face rubbed against the soft curls above your mound. His hands tugged at your wrists to pull your palm away from your lips, wanting to watch you fall apart. The anticipation twisted in your lower half as you tried to sort out the little remaining logical thoughts in your head. It was like fighting the rising tide as Mihawk’s kiss on your right hip shredded that last bit of resolve.

“Since I am winning, as you put it in this little game. I have one restriction. You can’t move. I don’t want you to aggravate your-”

“Yes, yes, please just-” Your rushed promises turned into a faint whimper as a hot tongue darted over your wanting clit. He always did have to have the last word as you doubted could even manage any sort of language now. Not when he was looking up at you like this, watching your expression shift from irritation to yearning as your quiet defiance turned to soft pants. A hitch in your breathing as his angle changed. Pressing your heated face into the cool surface of the pillow his soft grip on your chin made you look back down.

Ecstasy rose and retreated as each wet stroke danced over your sensitive bundle of nerves. A sharp hiss of air through your teeth as he grazed over the impossibly sensitive tissue with his teeth when your hips twitched. The restraint on your thighs prevented you from retreating as you tried to shy away from the mounting pleasure. Wanting the build-up to last a tiny bit longer your panting turned into a choked sob when his tongue swept over your soaked core.

“Mihawk, Mihawk.” His name fell like a chant from your lips as his tongue brushed over your throbbing walls, his nails digging into your skin as he caught the sweet taste of your orgasm on his tongue.

His earlier warning felt like it was centuries ago as you curled up to him, nails sinking into his scalp to pull him closer to your core. Wanting nothing more than for him to stay there even for all the treasure in the world. The sheer pleasure overrode any twinge of pain in your ribs as you could hear your heartbeat throb in your ears. As compliant as a doll he forced you flat with the smallest bit of pressure on your collarbone. Your eyes squeezed shut as addled hormones burst from your head, adrenaline spiked with something else entirely. The little flips of your heart as he pressed feathered kisses on your face. His smug expression as you opened your eyes a fraction as you could all but imagine your glassy vast pupils as you sank into the haze of your orgasm. Pleasure all consuming allowing it to shove aside the prickling irritation as he tugged at a stray hair weakly scolding you for your hasty action mere seconds before it all fell apart.

“I told you..don’t do..that..” Mihawk rasped as you blinked stupidly. As if the words weren’t connecting through the haze. Like your mind hadn’t caught up with your body as your heart did that stupid flip from the warmth in his gaze. The gentle press of his forehead against yours as you felt like melted into the mattress below.

“Now, still upset with me? Pleased with yourself that I let your lust overrule medical advice.” Mihawk hummed as his fingertips ghosted over your sensitive skin. Each fleeting touch made taunt muscle turn to lax as you happily sink into the haze of serotonin. The low rumble in his chest as you tucked your head under his chin. Fingers restlessly twitching wanting to pull him closer to your cooling form.

“No.” The gentle rebuke as your nails stroked over the length of his stiff back. Feeling each muscle go taunt under your gentle touch as your hands skirted over his waist. The raw sensation of each muscled ab fluttered against your fingertips as you felt his pulse turn thready in his jugular.

“Please.” The single word sounded pathetic and broken to your ears. But your traitorous lips whispered it all the same. Wanting, no, needing him as he sighed at your gentle touch. His tame kiss against your wrists in a steadfast rebuff. Your heart leaped into your throat as he tried to pull away.

“Stay, please. Stay.”

Weak. Fragile. Vulnerable. Your pride shrieked those words in the back of your mind, washed away by the strange warmth of your heart as Mihawk’s gaze warmed at your gentle, shy request. A strange reversal of roles as he routinely tried his luck to allow you to fall into the lazy film of post-intimacy.

“Now don’t sulk, Dove.” Mihawk teased as his accommodation of your request wasn’t perfect. A thick pillow cushioning your fragile form as you sprawled atop of him. Fingers lazily brushed through your locks as you could feel your face heat from the gentle affection. Something so innocent made you all the more demure like some silly girl.

“Enjoy it while it lasts” You warned quietly as Mihawk rolled his eyes at your spiteful tone. Was it so terrible to allow yourself this simple indulgence? Speaking your mind without a guarded filter around the Warlord. To see that little flicker of ‘true’ drive kept under lock and key in your head.

“Is it so-”

Your hand covered his mouth before the honest words could leave it. You couldn’t afford to fall apart like this. Not with your position, with the crew, as if invisible blades were waiting to pierce your softer underbelly at a moment’s notice.

“Please, don’t.” You whispered as your cheek pressed against the soft pillow in quiet resignation. As if your blunt cut off of the conversation would allow you to cling to the muted peace that hung in the air. Where the harsh reality of the world didn’t matter, the obvious difference between yourself and Mihawk. Madam and Warlord. Fragile little thing and the world’s greatest swordsman. A harsh truth you desperately wanted to forget even for these few blessed minutes.

Unfortunately, the real world was all too pleased to shatter that illusion.

Pale moonlight trickled through your balcony window as the poor lighting entered the room. The faintest curl of Mihawk’s hand, your hip rousing you from blissfully blank sleep.

“What is it?” You muttered sluggishly, hazy senses trying to comprehend the unknown as you followed his line of sight to the glossy glass window. Nothing. You couldn’t see anything as you tried to prick up your hearing with a tilt of your head. The low growl of Mihawk’s next words against the shell of your ear sends a spike of adrenaline through your foggy mind.

“Guests. Two of them if my guess is correct. Squabbling over the lock on the balcony window.”

Sure enough in the desolate quiet, you could hear the faintest scratch of metal lockpicks and a stream of whispers. A distinct click of a lock as you quickly scrambled over Mihawk’s form to reach for the loaded pistol on your bedside table. Your ribs screeched at your hasty actions as Mihawk rolled you underneath him with ease, your fingers grazing over the hilt of the gun as his gentle grip on your chin pulled your attention back to him. A wordless conversation in a single blink.

‘Stop moving about.’

He didn’t want you to agitate your fracture. Or deal with the hazard of a stray bullet bouncing around the room. Nor did either of you know what sort of weaponry the men lurking outside had. Was it just them? Or was there a boarding party on deck waiting to strike? All these questions have been thrown out in your haste to act. Stupid, it was stupid of you as your nails dug into the skin of your palms.

While Mihawk was impossibly composed as he slipped away from you with cat-like grace. The faint grind of metal as he pulled Yoru from her sheathe as the balcony door creaked open. Two, there were two as you could see the moonlight catch the edges of the swords in their hands. Eyes widened in shock as their lifeblood burst from their chest in a single lazy swing. The ineffable scent of copper tasted heavy on your tongue as you let out a ragged gasp, releasing the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. The faint slosh of crimson blood soaked into the rug when Mihawk’s boots strode over it.

“Ichi, Toa? What’s going on?” Muffled but understandable as the speaker had to have been on the main deck above you. The third accomplice to the chaos of the evening as you ripped your gaze from the fallen corpses to the balcony. Moonlight cloaked over Mihawk’s placid stance as he leaned against the edge of the wooden barrier waiting for his target’s curiosity to get the better of them. The stained edge of Yoru seeped dark droplets on the wood below.

“Good evening” Calm. Collected. Like on the edge of a cliff about to fall into the abyss.

“Hawkeye Mihawk!” A far more strangled response as if the speaker’s tongue had swollen up. The distinct splash of a body hitting the water as you forced yourself out of the bed. Your legs felt impossibly heavy with each step as you felt the cooling blood of the corpse lap at your bare feet. The cool night air was a relief as it hit your face, following Mihawk’s line of sight as he sighed under his breath. Readying another strike you could see the frantic splashing of the third man, swimming towards their not-so-distant vessel.

“Don’t kill him, I need answers.” You said softly as the next few actions fell into place within the blink of an eye. A ruffling of your hair as the arc of Mihawk’s sword swept over you, the splattering of water droplets against your face from the literal tear in the ocean. The deafening crack of wood as the pale green hue of the slash illuminated the darkened waters. Casting the fragments of splintering wood in its’ sickly hue. The most heart-wrenching cry of the third man amid the waves as his chance of escape drifted in fragments around him.

The whispers above your balcony sounded like thunder in your ears. Now the crew was wide awake as you motioned your hand in the direction of the intruder. The wrinkle of netting as the thick material was tossed over the side, ready to haul in the catch as your vessel came closer and closer. Your wordless retreat into your quarters as your fingers idly dragged over the various coats in your wardrobe. Wanting to be comfortable but make an impression all the same. The cool metal brass caressed your fingertips as you did up the collar of the wool coat.

“Come back to bed.” Mihawk’s hands curled around the closed coat as his fingers brushed over the bare skin of your hip. Threatening to pull the buttons open with a single movement as his lips pressed a hot kiss to the back of your bare neck. His body against your covered back and you feel the flutter of his muscles with each soft breath. Like the pretty dance of a fishing lure trying to bait you into compliance.

“I wouldn’t be much of a captain if I let my crew handle this issue on their own.” You retorted tightly as the vibration of Mihawk’s hum almost broke your resolve. His face pressed against yours as you staggered from his lax form. The delightful graze of teeth against your earring as he half opened his eyes to gauge your reaction.

Unimpressed, the stark downturn of your lips as he sighs but removes himself all the same as your boots click against the floor. Even those hollow sounds echoed compared to Mihawk’s silent following. One of these days you would manage to figure out that trick, how a man as prominent as him could manage such a feat.

The main deck was ablaze with activity as you could see the pathetic wiggling of the rope-bound man as the taut rope around his ankles went slack. Making his yelps of fear echo as gravity hurled his form down to the deck. Stopping at the last second there was the sickening splatter of vomit against the pristine wood. A choked gasp of pain when Joan’s fist cracked against the side of his face for the unwelcome fluid now staining her outfit. Your hands spread lazily over the alcove’s balcony as you watched the events below. Even in a rush, Joan always made her knots beautiful as you could see the elegant work span over the man’s collarbone. Would it be too indulgent if you asked to see his back?

“Seems like Joan has it under control.” Mihawk mused as you shot him a glare over your shoulder. The faint tremble of the feather in his hat as he quietly laughed at your irritable state. The twitch of his lips as he curled around you, ignoring the obvious warning signs as your form tensed further. He liked seeing you like this, authoritative but about to snap under your selfish whims. Ignoring the stinging pain of your nails digging into his face as he boldly nipped at the tip of your right ear. The faintest nudge of his boots against your ankles spread your legs apart, gaining only a speck of ground as you hissed under your breath defiantly.

“Fucking bastards ticked us. Made it seem like it would be an easy score robbing a bunch of wh-” The tip of a knife stifled his cursed words as Joan’s hand twitched impatiently at your silent signal for her to stop. Your nails dragged over the firm wood railing as you descended the steps of the alcove, snapping your fingers together as a cigarette was placed between your waiting digits. The orange glow of the lighter’s flame danced over your guarded expression as you took a long drag of the drug, exhaling the sweet-smelling aroma with a sigh. The reddish hue of the cigarette’s tip flared as you took another drag, this time allowing the smoke to curl over the robber provoking a sputtering fit of coughs.

“So, you were..tipped off..is it?” You questioned as the man blinked away, stinging tears. The tick of his jaw was all the answer you needed as your nails clawed over the thin skin. The bitter tang of copper mingled with the aromatic tobacco as blood oozed from the deep laceration.

“Now, let’s try again, shall we? From the beginning.” You purred as your index finger tapped against his bleeding cheek. His complexion turned pale as the rope around his ankles went rigid as the world once again flipped upside down, his wiggling feeble as he was hoisted another two feet in the air.

One or two more drops wouldn’t kill him after all. Even after his head smashed into the deck on accident after the second drop, his eyes addled as he tried to focus on your pointer finger when it flicked him in the forehead. Face turning ruddy from the attempt or was it from the blood rushing to his head? Either way, he was performing a halfway decent impression of a red-cheeked doll, sweat dripping down from his shirt collar as your hand curled over his inflamed cheeks.

“Now, your story. Again. While we have your attention.” You said sweetly as you stamped out the spent ash of the cigarette underneath the tip of your boot. The gentle lull of nicotine could only keep your temper in check for so long as your nails sank into the existing cuts.

“It was Marines. Some of-” The man’s words went mute as his gaze flickered fearfully to Mihawk’s lax form leaning against the upper alcove’s railing. Shadowed features betray little, but the faint expression of boredom. Sulking, as you forced down the urge to tsk under your breath. Not in front of the crew who was now standing on a knife’s tip at the half-revealed truth. It wasn’t a secret that you paid bribes out of pocket to keep certain eyes closed in favor of intoxicating greed. It’s why half the paperwork ended up on your desk as ‘taxes’, but it wasn’t as if you were paying for protection.

Your teeth bit into your tender tongue as the realization struck you like a bolt of lightning. No, he wouldn’t renege on your deal. Not when the end of the month was so close. Unless something had changed in his little mind.

“Is it Nezumi?” Your question came out in a hushed breath as if speaking any louder would shatter your control of the entire situation. Captain Nezumi, that smug fucking snake, you could all but see his pompous expression as he bragged to his men about the upcoming profits. Your fingers twitched impatiently as the man nodded in confirmation.

“Yes it’s-”

His sentence never came out as Joan’s fist slammed dead center against his throat. Gagging on his saliva as his bonds were cut down with a single flick of a knife. He recoiled like a frightened puppy against the edge of the ship’s side as you leaned down to meet his gaze. Pressing your pointer finger to your lips in a silent command. Keep your mouth shut or else. It would have been all too easy to turn him over to the crew as you could feel their visible bloodlust dance through the air. Who had been on night watch?

“The nearest island should be ten miles from our current location if I had to take an educated guess. So, I suggest you start swimming.” You hummed with the turn of your heel. It was like witnessing a cornered rat flee as he all but threw himself back into the dark waters. The clear sound of splashing and sharp yelp as the cold salt water rushed into his wounds.

“Joan, it should be underneath my bed. Fetch it won’t you.” You asked quietly as the crew’s quiet conversation bounced around you. Some were hushed questions, others were surprised, the defiant clink of the coin as bets were placed. It had been quite some time after all since something like this indulged your fancy.

But even though you hadn’t fired the weapon in months, you still kept its maintenance pristine as your fingers curled over the smooth barrel of the rifle. The light brush of the gun’s trigger was like a kiss against your fingertip as you posted the sanded stock against your shoulder. A low whistle slipped from your lips as your target had made quite some progress of about three hundred yards. The low ebb and flow of the waves makes your target bob up and down as you take a deep breath.

Nothing but rats with wings on the sea. The least they can do is act as bait for much larger fish, girl.

The sharp recoil of the rifle against your shoulder sent an aching pain through your ribs. The distinct hiss of a bullet hitting the water as you gritted your teeth together. A miss, but barely, as your target’s flailing became all the more prominent. The clink of the empty shell as it hit the deck, was soon joined by its’ sister as you could see the faint haze of crimson a mere second later.

It had hit.

The next few minutes were a mere routine as the crew dispersed, some happier than others with fuller pockets, others looking more than a little putout. Your fingertips reddened with irritation as you accidentally brushed them over the hot muzzle, a welcome reminder. Joan exchanged a knowing look with you as you brushed past her. She could handle the coordination of the crew, you had a far more difficult task to work out. What to do about Nezumi’s piggish scheming.

Somehow running through the motions of rifle cleaning made your thoughts all the clearer. The cool touch of the bullets as you slipped them into the empty spots of action, a mere click of noise as the cartridges settled. Mihawk’s warm hand catches your wrist as you reach to grab the rag from your tea table.

“I never thought it was clever to grab at someone with a loaded weapon. It’s asking for trouble.” You warned quietly as Mihawk’s grip didn’t loosen, fingers sliding down your wrist as his other hand tipped your head back against the couch. His face looming above yours as if that would let him peer into your restless thoughts. Fingers splayed over your sensitive throat as your tongue licked over his closed lips, the faintest dilation of his gaze as the corner of your lips twitched amused.

“What was that, on deck? Getting mixed up with Marines now.” Mihawk questioned as he tapped his fingers against your throat.

“I get mixed up with all sorts of people, Mihawk.” You scoffed as your throat vibrated with your words. The flicker of your pulse as his fingers splayed open your coat’s collar revealing the valley of bare skin starting from your collarbone down. The familiar whisper of want as more buttons popped down to your abdomen before pulling up to graze fingers of the swell of your left breast.

“Fair point. Fine, I won’t ruffle your feathers with that topic. For now.” Mihawk conceded as you tried to conceal your faint gasp when his fingers kneaded your sensitive breast. Watching as the delicate skin went taunt when your fondled nipple peaked at a point. The faint shift in your legs as he brushed over the receptive tissue. Heat sank into your core when his face came closer, watching your face flush as his hand turned its attention to your other neglected breast. His nails grazed over the delicate nipple as pain and pleasure curled together when he lightly pulled on it.

The swipe of your tongue over your dry lips as you arched into his touch. Now both of his hands were on your breasts watching as your mouth opened in a series of faint pants. Your legs squeezing together as your cunt twitched with want. Your neck sprawled to the side as he licked over your rushing pulse the action sent another wave of wetness inside your core. The smug flicker of his expression when you shifted your hips trying to ease the ache between your legs.

“You’re still on medical prohibition, shame. Really.” Mihawk muttered against your ear as you rolled your eyes at the drawling sarcasm. The obvious lies in his words as you took matters into your own hands to undo the last few buttons on your coat. A hiss slips from your lips as the air hits your hot skin. Your dripping cunt soaked into the couch’s fabric as you shuddered from the new sensation. Soft fabric against your wet folds.

Mihawk’s groan against your ear as you could hear the clatter of a metal belt hit the floor. No, he wouldn’t fuck you, but he wasn’t above watching as his lips sank into yours. The open pant of lips all but welcoming his tongue into your mouth. The thud of your heart as his hand slid over yours to drag over your stomach, the dangerous sensation of your nails skittering over your soaked folds. All while his larger hand curled over your smaller one to allow it to stroke over the cool, sticky fluid.

The teasing press of a single finger as his hand pushed down, your keening whine, and your inner walls fluttered around your searching digit. Your breathing turned erratic as you pulled away from Mihawk’s burning kiss, only for his other hand to curl against your hair to hold you in place. A ragged hitch in your breath as he allowed another finger to disappear inside your throbbing center.

“Now, no moving.” His scolding words were accompanied by a light tug of your hair. All because you tried to move your hips wanting more than the faint pressure of your fingers.

“Curl them.”

A keening whine slipped from your lips as your searching fingertips brushed over the sensitive patch of delicious nerves. Mihawk’s words were muttered praise, things you couldn’t quite decipher as your waves of pleasure prickled with each stroke of your fingers. The harsh pain of his bite on the side of your throat as your fingers pressed down harder on the delicate spot. The delirious combination of pain and pleasure sent you tumbling over the edge of your orgasm as the world fell to pieces around your ears.

Soft, and warm, the unique musk of sex called you back as you found yourself all but flat against Mihawk’s chest. The strange sense of deja vu made you smile as you pressed a gentle kiss to his left pectoral as he rumbled in response. However, there was a small problem as your legs splayed over his thigh, all too aware of the sticky fluids of your orgasm spilling over.

“Now who is the one marking?” Mihawk teased

“I-”

“Stay.” Mihawk purred as he flexed his thigh, and you forced yourself to not fidget when the muscle bounced against your cooling lips.

“Too soon..” You protested in a faint whine as Mihawk’s laugh sent a tingle down your spine. Still, he allowed the fragile treaty to remain as your fingers tapped nonsensical songs against his chest.

“So, you won’t answer questions about the present. How about the past.”

“Shoot.” What was the harm in that?

“Exactly, where did you learn to shoot, Dove,” Mihawk asked as you blinked surprised at the question. He had seen you handle pistols and the like. Was the rifle that much of a stretch?

“Fishermen aren’t exactly keen on seagulls barging their way in on hot spots. Diving under the water to try and catch strays before the net closes too much. A bunch of rats with wings, my father called them.” You said wistfully as your eyes closed to hear the coarse voice echo in your mind. Your father had been bearded, broad, and smoked like a chimney. Always carrying the faint sweet scent of tobacco and sea salt on him, even after staying ashore for the week.

“Didn’t have a son, so he taught his kid daughter to shoot. Making chum as he put it, seagulls might not have much meat on them, but the blood attracted larger fish wanting an easier meal. It made sense..” You admitted quietly as Mihawk’s fingertips traced idle patterns over your hip bone. Silently coaxing more words out of you as he listened attentively. Your teeth sank into your lip as far harsher memories trickled by, the storms, the horrible stitches on your hand after you fucked up gutting a fish and the wet handle slipped. The final time you went out with your father, watching him disappear on the horizon with a larger fleet. He would bring back a large haul, you didn’t need to look so sullen that you weren’t joining him.

“Things..fell apart after that. Mihawk, I don’t-”

“That's the answer, that's what I asked for Dove.” Mihawk pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead as you took advantage to blink away the start of tears. Hiding your face as you tried to soothe your rush of emotions. It was so long ago, but it still ripped at your heart like an old wound.

He didn’t ask any more questions. Not tonight.

Somehow the entire atmosphere of the main deck could be even more sullen than your reluctance to let Mihawk leave. Joan slapped a hand on your shoulder as she pulled you closer with a wink

“Don’t let them get you. They just know you aren’t gonna be so..quaint after this.” Joan teased as you twisted out of her grip. The sheer strength of your glare could have branded the lips of gossiping crew members as the three of you passed by.

“Drilling. We haven’t done much drilling late, have we, Joan?” You questioned in an all too sugary tone as Joan’s amused smile stuttered for a moment. A bit of martial discipline would be good to remind the rest of the crew that despite your primary profession, you couldn’t have a soft underbelly with the reputation of pirates.

“I can’t believe I am saying this, but don’t let the Warlord off the ship. Please.” Bathroy declared dramatically swooning into Hepa’s waiting arms. A length of chain by the hooligans' feet as Mihawk kicked it off the deck. Down and down it went into the depths below before the end line went taunt with a metallic screech. Releasing whatever grip it had on the small raft below as it bobbed to the surface.

“Are you ever going to let me see it?” You pressed as you leaned against the ship’s railing. Nonverbally welcoming Mihawk into your space as he towered over you, brushing an errant curl out of your face. You could hear the disappointed whines of Hepa and Bathroy as the brim of his hat covered your gentle kiss of goodbye.

“Maybe one day, when there aren't secrets between us,” Mihawk muttered against your lips as he pulled away. Fair. It was fair at the end of the day, you were allowed to keep your deal with the fucking scumbag Nezumi on the down low. While he was allowed to keep his secretive reputation as a Warlord intact.

But later at night, in your quarters all alone. It didn’t seem fair at all as you curled into your sheets. Wanted to memorize the fading scent of Mihawk before it was once again gone.

Leaving you alone.

#mihawk x reader #opla x reader #mihawk x you #x reader #x reader fic #one piece x reader #silverinkwrites

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silverinkbottle · 2 months

Text

Till Death Do US Part-Chapter 4-In the Blood

Summary: Alastor leaves you little choice. Whiskey makes bad decisions..but somehow you don't have any regrets.

Previous chapter: Here

Word Count: 3.6K

Trigger Warnings: CANNIBALISM *HUGE TOPIC OF CHAPTER*

A/N: So I wrote this right after Flowers..and wow..mood whip last is real

The bath was a mistake. Or was it the now half empty decanter of whiskey as the amber liquid gleamed in the setting rays of the sun. The once more warm was going cold as you feebly tried to turn the tap once more. Ah, but it was so far away as you sank deeper into the water with a sigh. It was said that drinking reveals a person’s true nature; happy, sad, anger, lust, all those emotions would have been better than the current state of overthinking plaguing your mind. It intertwined with guilt to produce a hideously ugly bastard that pulled at your thoughts like a child demanding sweets.

“It wasn’t my fault.” You hissed to the open air as you tried to chase away the nagging thought. You were doing your job, turning away the Overlord without an appointment. You have done so with anyone else. It wasn’t just because the flat-faced bastard was well…himself. Nor did you realize that Alastor’s vendetta went so far as to play the ‘ignorance’ card when it came to almost demolishing the hotel.

But what if he had lost? You saw the unnatural twitch of his injured hand, still ‘rotting’ away even after rest. Or the obvious burn against his side after the jolt of electricity against it. Even with all his bravado, his weakened state would come to light eventually. Charlie would be the worst case example as she would fret and panic over the Overlord, who in turn would deny further aid. Fuck, Alastor was stubborn about injuries in ‘death’ as he was in life as the flash of his disgruntled expression when you first saw the injury drifted through your mind.

No, you had to take things into your own hands. Again.

Your legs wobbled in the sloshing waters of the bath as you managed to climb out with the smallest bit of grace. The amber liquor burned your throat as you took another deep pull of it. Liquid courage, that’s all it was as you glanced at yourself in the mirror. Fuck, you still got that glazed look in your eyes when drunk. Like icy over the surface of a lake as you dragged a brush through your wet hair with a huff. Had your blouse’s buttons changed or something as your clumsy fingers fought with the little plastic clasps.

“Oh, this is going to be delightful” You hissed to your reflection as the outfit was far from prim and proper. Your throat bare as you gave up fighting the buttons of your blouse until the collarbone. The fabric wasn’t even tucked into the wrinkled skirt you scrambled to find. Stockings hastily thrown over your legs as you skipped over the short heels left by the foot of your bed. No, it would be like witnessing a baby deer wobbling about on its new legs.

Oh, he better sing your praises after as you slammed the bedroom door shut with a huff. Goosebumps prickled over your skin like the floating notes of jazz as your footsteps led you to an all too familiar door. Except, it was you this time that threw open the door with a loud bang as you closed it behind you with equal amounts of urgency. Static crackled through the air as Alastor’s displeasure was all too obvious as he cocked his head to the side in a silent question.

“Now what do I OWE you this evening, my dear.” Alastor hummed as his tea cup threatened to shatter from the force as it was almost slammed down onto the saucer. The sheer irritation in his voice was like a cat’s rusty purr in your intoxicated mind as you clicked your tongue at him in warning. The amber liquor swirled in the warm firelight as you took another drink from it to find the right words. There wasn’t a chance in Hell that you would allow yourself to back down now.

“I’m here to help you, you jackass.” You hissed

“We both know I am far beyond that.” Alastor chuckled mockingly as he sank deeper into the armchair with a defiant scoff. Trying to make himself a smaller target as your tail lashed about in agitation at his stubbornness.

“At least let me try. “ You insisted as you were quick to cage him in with your nails sinking into the back of the arm chair. You were even closer than the night before as Alastor’s gaze flickered from the almost empty decanter to your heated expression.

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re hurt.”

“Don’t try to lie. Just let me-”

“Now what sort of mythical means could YOU have to help me. Truly, it would be-”

His sarcastic biting tone stuttered as your fingers ripped open the upper buttons of your blouse. The fabric falling down your shoulders in a slow wave as the thin cream fabric of the camisole underneath greeted the Radio Demon. There was an impossibly delightful pause and crackle of static as you could see the silver-tongued demon trying and failing to come up with the right counter to the bold advance. He gingerly used his index finger to try to feebly pull up the collar of your blouse.

“If you thought my performance today was inept, I doubt you will be-”

“Alastor, I am not seducing you. I am trying to help you.” You insisted through clenched teeth as Alastor let out a bark of laughter. Or was it from relief. A different sort of warm brushed over your bare skin as the flickering fireplace’s heat whispered over you. Your blouse laid forgotten on the carpet as your fingers restlessly twitched against the soft fabric of the armchair.

“Well, nurse, what’s your next treatment step? Or did you not think this far..” Alastor hummed as your ears went flat. Fucker. He was right, but at the same time wrong. You didn’t think it would get this far, but the next step made the mere act of stripping look like a novice’s task. Now it was time to go out onto the thin as you retreated away from the seated demon, mulling over your words with exceptional care.

“It’s just a theory. It may not even work. It will require your participation and obedience” Your words shaded with an icy inflection as Alastor’s smile widened at the mere suggestion. Now you had his attention. This was going to be as painless as catching a racoon infested with rabies in an enclosed space..with a broom. Near impossible. Still, he leaned forward eager to hear your next words as you took another invigorating sip from the dwindling decanter.

“Demonic regeneration. I had the boys interview some survivors of the Extermination fight, little to no complaints about non-fatal wounds. Went into vivid descriptions about the celebratory banquet that included both Angelic and Sinner flesh particles. Aside from the minor glow, the interviewees reported feeling tip top the next day. So if-”

Your words skittered to a halt as Alastor’s hand ghosted over your throat, sharp nails tapping against your face. His other hand on your lower back, holding in place as you tried to take a step back. A darker look of hunger tinted his eyes as his smile turned predatory.

“Are you asking me to eat you, my darling..” His words came out clear as a bell, but it was all faux politeness as you could see the hunger in his eyes. How often did he indulge in that little habit of his? Had he been refraining during his recovery? Did you unknowingly dangle yourself like a haunch of meat in the face of a starving hound?

“With restrictions. Alastor.” You reminded as you twisted out of his grasp with a scowl. He was quick to follow your retreat before flinching away with a small snarl. You had managed to prick the center of his outstretched hand with the sharpened point of your quill. The red blood oozed onto the floor as you shook off the quill with a quick flick of your wrist.

“Now that I have your rapt attention. I need you to carefully draw a line over the back of my shoulder. Draw, not stab. I’m not turning into a pin cushion tonight.” You warned slowly as you turned on your heel. All your instincts screeched in protest as you could feel the faint phantom taste of ink. Turning your back on a hungry predator was throwing caution to the wind. Yet, it wasn’t the obvious danger that sent a tingle up your spine, it was the almost ghost-like brush of the quill's feathered tip against your back as Alastor plucked it from your hand.

“A bit higher, adjacent to the nape of my neck.” You corrected as you were forced to not flinch at the first initial prick of the quill. Like stabbing yourself with the head of a needle during sewing, a surprise all the same. Your nails dug into the skin of your palms as the quill’s head sank a fraction deeper in your skin. A faint sting as it dragged downward leaving black blood trickling downward in its wake.

“It’s black.”

“Yes. Now carefully-”

Your words turned into a strangled hiss as Alastor’s tongue dragged over the wet skin like a cat did when given a bowl of cream. Goosebumps prickling down your neck as sharp canines brushed accidentally over the thin lines trying to coax more blood from them. Your back threatened to bow out of sheer instinct as his hand curled your throat to keep you upright. Easy, fuck, this was too easy as it wasn’t the mere burn of whiskey searing your mind now. Want, it was simple as your tail curled around the demon flirtatiously.

“Back up.” You hissed hoarsely as you turned around to push Alastor back into the armchair. It was like pushing over a mannequin as Alastor’s hands loosely curled over your hips as you settled against his lap. His ears twitched as you drew the sharp quill over the side of your throat, curling around the nape of his neck to drag him against it. The grip on your hips tightening as you glanced down at his once injured wrist, the flesh mending together like twisting snakes. Working, it was working as triumph turned to ash in your mouth as a far sharper pain ripped through your collarbone. Your hand hastily clamped over the wound, a mistake as the creature’s dark eyes narrowed.

Now it was your turn to be toyed as the creature shoved you back onto the carpet. Flipping you over onto your stomach like a bird of prey would a sheltering turtle. The warm tongue licked over your cheek as if an apology as a sharp nail dragged down the length of your spine. Cutting through the thin fabric of the camisole and the skin underneath it alike. You could feel the blood trickle down your sides as you forced yourself to remain still as warm breath puffed against the back of your neck. A choked gasp slipped from your lips when claws grazed over your thighs, shuffling them apart as lust curled inside your gut.

It was said that there were two modes that a human went into when confronted with mortal peril. Fight or Flight. You didn’t think you could even manage to move an inch as Alastor’s demonic vestige loomed over you, you could hear the defiant crack of bones in his elongated neck when you glanced back. Flight would be like baiting a fox after a rabbit. So, you readied yourself for the other treacherous task. Fight.

“This is new..” Your voice sounded pitched and shallow to even your own ears. What would it sound like to the Overlord? The squeaking of a mouse as it tried to evade a cat’s paws. Amusing, it was amusing as there was a cackle of laughter from the creature.

“Surprised?” Alastor mused as he dragged another long nail down your spine. Watching as your skin shuddered at the contact provoking another well of blood from the shallow cut. Perhaps, it was a bit morbid, but you couldn’t help but watch the droplets splatter against the carpet. The cool sheen of Alastor’s provoked antlers as their blackened hue caught in the low lighting. An obvious twitch of his ears as he noticed your staring. The tug of his stitched lip when he looked away first.

Your burst of giggles broke the tension of the situation. The crack of bone as Alastor returned to ‘normal’. The utter absurdity of it all as you curled against the soft carpet. That here you were, drunk, half naked in your ex-husband’s room. All but baiting him with your body be for your one-sided lust or his primal hunger. The prominent scent of copper as you pulled your hand away from the damaged flesh of your shoulder.

“Don’t you dare put your hand down.” Alastor warned as your cheek rubbed against the carpet with willful ignorance. Snarling against the soft material as his nails caught the back of your bare neck, while his other hand hastily wiped off your damp hand with a magicked handkerchief. The irritating ease at which he held in place as you tried to move from his vice-like grip. The bitter taste of ink as you glared up at his smug expression.

“Now that we’re comfortable. Let’s talk about your little change..” Alastor mused as his eyes flickered over the stained streaks of black over your back. Sinners bled red, he had obviously eaten enough of them to know that simple biological factor. Yet, you bled black as you tried to avoid his silent question.

Why was it black? What was it about its properties that allowed him to heal?

“Let me up and I’ll tell you.” You purred with a bat of your eyes as Alastor let out a bark of laughter at the obvious ruse.

“And start a chase through the hotel, at this hour. No.” Alastor retorted as a nail traced over the back of your neck. Patiently waiting for your stubbornness to falter as you rolled your eyes. It was going to turn into a test of wills as you huffed against the carpet. Your body going flat as the gentle warmth of the fire soothed your nude back. Now if only you could convince the demon to give you the last bit of whiskey.

“Oh now, what’s this?” Alastor hummed as you could feel the bare air against your neck. Your protest was choked by the sensation of drowning as ink and whiskey splattered onto the ground in front of you. Your nails clawed at your throat as the dripping remains of the vomit-like mixture trickled down your neck, hardening into a collar-like object. Wrists fall limply at your side as the cold chains bite into the tender flesh of your forearms. The clink of chain around your ankles as you tried to shy away from the icy metal.

“Well now, what did you do?” Alastor mused as you dragged yourself into a sitting position. Your eyes were pocketed in small dots, no larger than a pebble. Snatching the offer handkerchief from the inquisitive demon as you tried to not gag on another splash of ink.

“You’re the self-professed dealmaker, you tell me.” You hissed through stained teeth as Alastor smirked. You could all but see him lording over the fact that his reputation reached your ears, as closed off as you tried to make yourself from his influence.

“But with whom did you make the deal?” Alastor questioned as he circled around you like a buyer at an auction. Overlords dealt in souls, it’s what made them infamous in Hell.

“You have me impossibly curious. I have known one or two split custody agreements. But, this, completely new. Indulge me won’t you.”

His voice dropped to a mere whisper against your ear. Oh, now he was playing the ‘helpful’ card as you glared at his poor attempt of persuasion. Snatching up your blouse, you were quick to fumble with the buttons giving up halfway as Alastor watched with an amused expression. The rattle of chains on the floor as you stood up. Your choked gasp as the collar around your throat went taunt when Alastor’s fingers caught around the center ring, pulling you to meet him face to face. Mere centimeters away from one another as an ominous green glow illuminated both your faces.

“Alastor don’t-” Your warning was cut off with a sharp snap. Alastor’s smug expression turned disgruntled as the newest guests in his room were all too familiar. Instead of the unknown, he was met with bewildered expressions of Nifty and Husk.

“What the fu-”

“Oh she’s being a bad girl..” Nifty’s excited giggles cut over Husk’s question as Alastor quickly stepped away from you. All evidence of your shackles vanished as soon as Alastor’s little trick back fired. Now all the pair had was witnessing the start or was it the end of a romantic encounter as you quickly turned your back on the hotel staff to once again fight with the troublesome buttons.

“Not. A. Word.” Alastor’s voice crackled with static as Husk rolled his eyes but kept silent. Nifty’s giggles bounced around the room as she doubtlessly would have tried to cling to you were it not for Husk’s quick reaction in dragging the maid out of the room by her elbow.

“Will they keep this..quiet?” You muttered as Alastor joined you by the fireplace. You could see his wrist twitch fluidly as he stared into the crimson flames of the fire. A faint flicker of relief and pride washed over you to see that your little theory had been proven correct. All it cost was a pound of flesh as you could feel your shoulder protest at the mere thought.

“They won’t have a choice in the matter.” A blunt, defined statement as you could all but imagine the leashes on the pair cinching another ring tighter.

“Charming, aren’t you?”

“Always. My dear.” Alastor grinned, his inflection tinted with false cheeriness. As if the entire evening was a mere night-cap conversation as he quickly picked up the once forgotten decanter of whiskey and emptied its contents into two separate glasses. Both parties were eager to fill the silence with a harsh burn of liquor as you fiddled with the edge of the now empty glass. While Alastor’s glass made a hollow sound as it was set down on the side table drawing your attention from your thoughts.

“So, you won’t tell me-”

“It’s Hell. Alastor, what do you think happened?” You cut over his words with a sharp snap of anger. There it was, that cruel mistress of memory as your skin crawled with unease. The feelings of desperate fear and despair that dragged you from sleep from time to time.

“But you could have-”

“ Don’t say I could have come and found you, Alastor. I went through that once, look what it got me.” You hissed as you willfully bound yourself to the Sinner in life. Ignoring all the little burdens piling up on your soul in favor of lust, companionship and promises. Throwing caution to the wind when it came piling down, the cruel bite of the bottle as you tried to pick up the shattered pieces of your life. That cruel irony of your death and its aftermath.

“Life and death go hand in hand, my dear. Mine shouldn't have-”

“You were my life. Alastor. I didn’t have a choice in the matter.” You muttered bitterly as you swept away the unexpected glint of tears in the corner of your eyes. Fuck, this entire evening didn’t go according to plan, not in the slightest. But when did any of your drunken schemes turn out well?

Aside from the one with the shotgun. That was sheer luck.

Thoughtful, Alastor looked thoughtful as you reclined in the plush armchair. Fingers restlessly twitching, wanting another bottle to wrap your mind around. You could feel his inquisitive gaze over your form from top to bottom. It wasn’t a malicious or lustful gleam, but simple curiosity as you rolled your brass wedding ring idly on your finger. The little trinket that kept the fraying string of fate between the pair of you together. If you took it off, would it make you feel heavier or lighter on the inside?

“I had it for months, you know. Kept waiting for the right moment.” Alastor admitted softly as there was a flicker of fondness in his gaze as you scoffed at the comment. You remembered the entire state of affairs quite differently than his. The chaffing handcuffs at the time did little to spice up the proposal, but he made it work out in his favor.

“So the right moment was in the middle of a police station. Very practical. Alastor.” You retorted as Alastor waved off the comment with an idle toss of his hand.

“Well, it did make filing the paperwork that much easier. We just had to walk down a flight of stairs-”

“You forged my signature-”

“You left me no choice. Darling.”

You huffed as once more you found yourself backed into a corner. He was right, as much as you loathe to admit it. There was little point in disagreeing about the past, much less shared mistakes as you rose from your armchair with a rub of your eyes. Something told you that it was going to be a pointless night of poor sleep, but you had to try.

“Sleep well.” Alastor’s gentle words floated above you like a phantom as you curled into the soft sheets of your queen-sized bed.

Tonight it felt all the emptier.

#hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader #x reader #alastor x you #silverinkwrites

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silverinkbottle · 2 months

Note

hi! hello! your velvette fic was literally amazing, i read it like at least 5 times haha! the way you write is,, wow.

thanks for your time!

A:N: Hello Anon!!! Thank you so much for the sweet request, I hope you enjoy!!

Summary: Being a Courier of Hell has it's perks; benefits, travel and sometimes the occasional yearning friendship

Warnings: Violence, Cannibalism

Flowers and Other Things

Rosie X GN!Hellhound!Reader

Word Count:3.2K

“Taking a little break, my little Bichon?”

“Apologies, mam. It’s just that-”

“But how did you manage to figure it out, mam. Last time it looked so..sad” You asked as Rosie’s smile brightened flashing sharp pointed teeth.

“My offer still stands on helping you declutter, Miss Rosie.”

“All things are worth keeping, Bichon. You never know when- Ah ha!”

Your eyes went wide as you smelled the item before it was gently set down on the counter. She wasn’t going-, no, you couldn’t.

“But Rosie what if-”

“And the poor dearie thought that violet wouldn’t clash-”

“Want me to try and get more info from the other party?” You suggested with a grin.

Somehow, it made the small seed packet feel all the warmer against your chest.

“I told you Jack, it’s funny thing.”

“Oh, is it?” The goat retorted as you took a single step back.

“Ya, we go looking for Hellhound and lookie here. Satchel n all.”

“I don’t want trouble.” You hissed through clench teeth as your ears twitched at the loud click of the gun’s safety going off.

“DON’T JUST STAND THERE, SHOOT.” The goat Sinner bleated as you could see him clutching the bleeding stubs of his pointer and index finger while his surprised associate scrambled with the gun.

Quickly.

“Now, now that isn’t necessary.”

“You crazy bi-”

“Now let’s take a look at you, looking a bit peaky, my little Bichon.”

“Rosie?”

Her gentle smile was the last thing you saw as the world was blanketed in darkness.

She was taking care of you.

In her personal quarters.

In her bed.

“I am sorry for causing you problems. Miss Rosie. It’s not becoming of my -”

“Hush.”

“Rosie, can I-”

The sharper sound ended the kiss quickly as Rosie clucked her tongue at your hasty actions.

“Now, there will be time for that later.”

You couldn’t help but sink dramatically into the pillows with a sigh as Rosie patted the top of your head with a chuckle.

“I’ll promise, Miss Rosie. Thank you..for..the..exciting day..” You promised as Rosie smiled that gentle sincere smile that made your heart flutter like a Hellhound pup over a bone.

“Think nothing of it, Bichon. Now how about a bit of tea?”

Things were looking up in Hell.

#rosie x reader #x reader fic #x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #silverinkwrites

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