#dear hellhole

[mon-stax]

[kittykatkatelol]

i don't even like minecraft in general why the fuck am I talking to myself passionately about video game movie adaptations and how they shouldn't be done and how fnaf did it right (sorta)

[ilostyou]

tbh

[galariangengar]

💭

[idlecommotiony]

My god, is this it?

It doesn’t get better now does it?

[hostbusters]

need an american himbo to marry and giggle with #yearnposting

[osachiyo]

❝You will be mine forever until you perish.❞ ✧ ೃ༄

—300 (meant to be 200) FOLLOWERS EVENT!

—PAIRING ✰ ZHONGLI x FEM!READER

—CONTENT WARNINGS ✰ explicit smut,noncon, yandere tendencies, mentions of kidnapping, baby trapping, delusional zhongli, unprotected sex, spanking, etc.

—WORDCOUNT ✰ 1.5k

—CHARACTER CHOSEN BY ✰ @lxverss

—EVENT MASTERLIST & RULES ✰

. . . . MINORS DO NOT INTERACT . . . .

Zhongli's gloved hand came down to your ass harshly for the 18th time tonight, making you bite his thigh in pain. He only chuckled darkly at your feeble attempt of hurting him. His hand slowly smoothes down the skin of your ass, the plump flesh jiggling in his big hand as he admires the reddish tint his brutal hits left behind. The handprints evident on your plump behind. You did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your tears but fucking god did it hurt.

Your muffled cry could be heard when his hand came down on your ass again, the impact stinging even more this time. He shushed your pitiful noises with a mocking smirk, making the tears in your lashline finally fall down your swollen cheeks. "Does it hurt, darling?" He asked with faux sympathy, making you even more enraged. You wanted to scream at him, pull on his hair for ruining your life like this. But you stayed silent, clutching onto him for dear life as he hummed. "Just one more to go, my love. Your punishment will be over soon enough." You grit your teeth in anger. Punishment for what? Trying to escape from this hellhole of a prison he has kept you in? Tears flowed freely down your chin in frustration, soaking his pants. You hated him. Despised this man who took you away from your family, from your normal life. But you hated the fact that you were aroused right now. Aroused from being forcibly bent over his knee and hit by none other than your captor. You felt the shame burn in your tear soaked cheeks, which only made the bulge pressing into your lower tummy harder, bigger.

This time the hit wasn't just on your ass, he smacked the back of your thighs which he knew were sensitive, worsening the pain. You almost jumped out of his lap from the mere force, a broken sob leaves your throat as he only coos at you, praising you for being a good girl for him. He lifted you up and settled you down on the bed, on your tummy because your ass was swollen from the hits. He rubbed your cheeks, even spreading them a little to sneak a view of your pussy and god were you soaked. He smiled, rubbing a finger up and down your pretty folds as you try to squirm away from him but his firm grip is holding you in place. "You act like you dislike it, dear. But can you tell me why you're absolutely leaking down here, hm?" He spoke softly whilst gently rubbing your clit as if to make up for the harsh behaviour only a moment ago. You buried your face further into the silk covered pillow, lips wobbling as you try not to moan from him playing with your greedy cunt. Your mind was telling at you to kick him away, disgust filling your senses. But your body on the other hand was enjoying what the man did to it, much to your dismay.

He raised your hips up, your swollen ass now sticking out in the air while your face was still buried in the pillow. You whined softly when Zhongli kicked your legs open, forcing his leg between them. The rough material of his pants grinding on your already leaking cunt, a damp spot forming on his sleek pants while you writhed in a confusing mixture of rage and pleasure. He pulled back suddenly, lowering himself, now face level with your leaking cunt as you squirm in discomfort. He gently pats your lower back, as if you comfort you. The thought makes you want to scoff. He puffed a warm breath right on your pussy, making you clench around nothing as you feel your eyes tear up again. You were nothing but a slave now. Nothing but his property. Not like you can right back either, as it was a contract between the two of you. Your train of thought cut off as Zhongli kicked a fat stripe up your cunt with his dragon-like tongue, a gasp escaping your mouth. He groaned into your pussy, mumbling something about how good you taste. The vibrations of his voice make you shiver, more of your slick soaking his chin as he laps up what your cunt offers him. The sweet, sweet honey like fluid dripping out of you with each lick and suck, it has him impossibly hard. If you weren't too distracted by how fucking good his long tongue feels shoved in your sensitive core, you'd notice how the way he was humping the bed right now. The tip of his cock leaking with precum as he gets addicted to your divine taste. He pulled his tongue out, fat fingers now replacing the muscle as he wraps his lips around your swollen clit, making you claw the sheets as a broken moan escapes your throat. The rough leather wrapped around his fingers adding a addictive friction in your tight heat, all while he sucks on your pretty little clit so fucking nicely.

"Cum for me, won't you? I know you will. You're my good little girl, aren't you?" He chuckled, his voice a few octaves lower as thick desire coats every word that flows out of his sinful mouth. You don't answer, that earns you a harsh slap against your clit, making you cry out in sudden pain. "Answer, pet."

You chant his name over and over again, pleas and sobs of "y-yes! 'm cummin' so hard! Don't stop-" your eyes rolled back as he sped up the pace of his fingers, curling them just right to make you gush all over his fingers and tongue, even soaking the lower half of his face as he laps up all you have to offer. He helps you ride out your orgasm as you collapse against the sheets, huffing in exhaustion. But you knew he wasn't done yet. Not by the way you could hear his belt hitting the floor as he flipped you on your back, a growl erupting in his chest as he pushed your legs back, your thighs squishing against your pretty breasts, the position making it slightly hard to breath.

He tapped the blunt and swollen head of his cock against your clit one, two, three times before finally pushing in with a pop! You both groan in unison, the thick head splitting you apart. You panted out like a bitch in heat when he started dragging his cock slowly in your cunt, pushing in slowly. As much as he liked to see you in pain, he knew he’s fucking huge. So he had to go slow to not tear your pussy apart. He stared intensely at your cunt opening right up for him, taking his cock like a champ. He rubbed delicate circles on your clit with his thumb, trying to distract you from the scorching hot pain of his cock splitting you in half. He let out a low growl when he finally pushed himself all in your cunt, burying his cock to the hilt. Fat tear droplets that once clung to your lash line now fell on the silken sheets as you clutch the pillow as tight as you can. You hiccuped when he pulled back, pulling his cock almost all the way out before slamming into you again. You could feel every ridge and vein on his throbbing shaft, bumping against your sweet spot oh so effortlessly while all you can do is writhe and whine below him. It didn’t take long for him to pick up the pace, now slamming into your can with such intensity it had you seeing stars. His finger still skilfully stimulating your hardened clit as he grinned wickedly, his canines showing and eyes glowing a golden hue.

Your eyes widened when you felt his cock getting even bigger in you, stretching your velvety walls beyond their limits as you squirted all over his cock, your slick covering his lower abdomen and thighs, the glossy substance rubbing down his fat balls as he groaned at the sight, pushing all of his body weight on you. “Fuck- take my cum, darling, Gonna make you such a sweet mommy. You want that, don’t you? All fucked and swollen with my- ah shit- all fucked and swollen with my kids… yeah? Take my cum- take it. You’ll be mine forever until you perish! ” He babbled, growling as he dove down to bite your neck hard, drawing blood as he filled you up with his seed.

Once you both came down from your highs, he plopped next to you, shoving a pillow underneath your legs to keep all of his sticky release inside of you. But alas, there was just so much of it that it dribbled out from your pussy, soaking the sheets even more, if possible. Zhongli only sighed, patting your head and kissing your temple as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

He was right.

You were going to be his forever.

—AUTHORS NOTE ✰ you can request the next character for this event in my inbox anytime! thanks for reading y’all! Please comment on this post if you want to be added in the tag list for this series!

—TAGLIST ✰ @luvyein

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

[cimmanonrowl]

Gods & Monsters

Part One | Chapter Navigation

Pairing: aaron hotchner x criminal daughter!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: age gap, forbidden relationship, unprotected rough sex, creampie, begging, innocence kink, rutting, somnophilia, a little cnc and panicking, dirty talk, pure filth, sir & daddy (only used thrice) kink, dom/sub undertones, innocent!reader, vague to inaccurate crime and law enforcement details

You woke up in the middle of the night. As you always have in the past few weeks. The room was covered in darkness; with only the faint sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains. And in every gentle blow of the wind, the white fabric on the open veranda door sways in a mellow rhythm.

You pulled the covers up to your chest and rolled to your side, your heart hammering a little faster as you reached your phone on the bedside table and unlocked it. 

No reply.

Your last message to Aaron, sent hours ago, still marked as unread.

You stared quietly at the screen, your eyes tracing over the last words you sent. It was just something simple: a question about his day, followed by a smiley face, light and casual. You were bored earlier so you decided to reach out to him. You even sent him a picture of the chocolate cookies you baked... but to no avail.

He’s probably just busy, you caught yourself saying in your head. The thought was firm with no edge or flicker of doubt. Aaron has his own life, a tedious job, and his own things to deal with. You knew that. Maybe he got caught up with work again, or he’s out with his team, or maybe he’s just tired; too exhausted to do anything but fall into the comfort of his bed and sleep.

Or maybe he simply doesn’t feel the need to reply to your unimportant message.

Your mouth felt dry with that thought. And the silence of the night pressed stealthily against your ears.

Milk. That was enough to draw you out of bed, your feet touching the cool wooden floor with a soft thud. The mansion was still— the kind of quiet that would usually lull you back to sleep. Usually, this meant your father and his men were out for a business matter. Sometimes, Father dear was just too hung up on alcohol and drugs that he forgot to come home at a decent time.

Quietly, you pushed open your bedroom door, careful not to let the hinges creak too loudly. The mansion in which you recently just moved into was heavily guarded just like the past ones.

You stepped into the hallway. Even though it’s only been a couple of months, every painting and corner of the dimly lit hallway was familiar to your senses. You expect to be the only one awake in your household, aside from the night guards. The kitchen would be empty as always.

But halfway there, a sound caught your ear— a murmur, low and indistinct, drifting from your father’s office.

You halted in your tracks, your ears perking at the noise. The door to your father’s office was slightly ajar, a thin sliver of light cutting through the darkness of the hallway. The murmur becomes clearer as you inched closer— three, maybe four voices, deep and serious, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses. 

“We fucking need it done by tomorrow,” one voice complained, rough around all the edges. “The delays are making them antsy.”

“Do you fucking think I don’t know that? Tell those motherfuckers to wait.”

You froze.

The other voices, they’re strangers to you. But you recognize that voice immediately. Your father’s unmistakable deep and commanding one. Yet you were used to this, used to crossing paths with different vile men your father worked with.

“What about the feds?” another voice asked. “They’ve been sniffing around more than usual.”

There was a low and dangerous chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. “Let them. They won’t find anything.”

“The fuck you mean let them? Are you seriously still convinced that you don’t have a mole in this hellhole?”

Then there was a pause, the kind that felt like everyone was holding their breath. They know about the mole. Of course, they do. They’ve never had delays in their operations such as this before. Only an idiot would count it as a mere coincidence.

You leaned in, your ear almost touching the door, careful not to let it move even a fraction.

“All of your operations were interrupted by the feds.”

You heard the scrape of a chair against the floor, and then the clink of a glass being set down. “I don’t think it’s my men you should be poking your nose about. What about your men?”

“Are you fucking saying that my me–”

“What about the witness?” the first voice intercepted, quieter now, as if the words themselves are too dangerous to speak aloud.

“Taken care of,” your father replied with a sharp sigh, his tone so cold it chills your blood. “Permanently.”

There was a murmur of approval from the others, and you can vividly picture them nodding in agreement. Maybe even smiling. You pressed closer, trying to make sense of it all, but your thoughts were a tangled mess of fear and confusion.

“How much are we expecting on this one again?” another man asked, his voice gruff and heavy with tobacco smoke.

“Enough to keep everyone happy,” your father replied. “This is our last big score for this month. After that, we lie low for the meantime.”

There was another pause, and you heard the rustle of papers, the sound of something being slid across the table. “It’s all here,” your father muttered. “Everything we need. We move three nights from now.”

“Three nights?” the second voice echoed, surprised. “Why not tomorrow?”

“Yes,” there was no mistaking the steel in your father’s voice. “Because I said so.”

Every muscle in your body tensed as the meeting continued. They speak in half sentences, in code words, as if they know someone might be listening.

And then, as suddenly as it began, there was a sudden scraping of chairs, a loud cough, followed by the sound of feet moving. They were wrapping up, and you realized with a jolt that you need to move.

The stairs were just a few steps away. You could bolt downstairs and go straight to the kitchen as you intended. But instead, you slipped back into your room, closing the door silently behind you, and wished that the silence of the night would lull you back to another restless sleep.

When morning finally came, warm light filtered through the thin curtains and into your room. Bones popped beneath the covers as you stretched, your mind foggy with sleep. Yet you forced yourself to sit up, the blankets sliding off your shoulders.

For a moment, you contemplated reaching your phone and sending a message to Aaron. You couldn’t wait to tell him about everything you heard last night. But with the faint sound of footsteps in the hallway outside your room, you thought your information could wait until after breakfast.

You pad softly to your closet, slipping into a pair of fluffy pink slippers before making your way out of the room. You were still wearing your nightdress, a soft, pale blue cotton gown that fell just below your knees. It looked delicate, with a lace trim at the neckline, something you have had for ages. The fabric clung lightly to your skin with every move, the morning air cool against your bare arms.

When you passed by your father’s office, your thoughts immediately drifted back to the conversation you overheard last night. It felt distant now, almost like a dream, but there was this familiar tension in your chest that you knew all those things had happened.

“Morning, sweetheart,” your father greeted you, his voice deep and steady as you stepped into the dining area. “Come, have some breakfast.”

He gestured to the empty chair beside him. Father dear and Harwin were already seated at the table. The dining room was bright with morning light, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mixing with the scent of eggs and toast. Your father sat at the head of the table as always, while Harwin sat across from him, his posture straight, his eyes immediately flicking up to you as you entered.

“Good morning,” you replied softly, forcing a smile as you approached the table. 

You were aware of how you must look— the nightdress, the slightly tousled hair, the way the morning light catches on your skin. You seem almost ethereal, innocent. But there was nothing innocent about the way Harwin’s eyes followed you as you move. It was not leering, no. Not inappropriate either, but it was there— an intense, piercing look that made you acutely aware of every step you take.

You slipped into the chair next to your father, feeling Harwin’s gaze settled on you. His expression was carefully neutral, but you could sense the way he was assessing you, as if he was trying to see right through you.

“Good morning, Miss,” he greeted, his voice polite and almost formal. He offered you a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I hope you slept well.”

You nodded, and your hand trembled lightly as you reached for the glass of orange juice in front of you. “I did. Thank you, Harwin,” your voice was quiet as you replied, as if speaking any louder would shatter the fragile calm of the morning. 

But even as you say it, you know it was not entirely true. The remnants of last night’s tension clung to you, making the hair at the back of your neck rise, your breathing almost heavy.

Your father cut into his toast in rough movements. “Harwin will be spending more time around the house,” he said casually, his tone leaving little room for you to react. “I have some business that’ll keep me away, and I want to make sure you’re looked after.”

Business.

Your stomach tightened at his words. You glanced at Harwin, who was still watching you with keen eyes. You know this wasn’t just about keeping an eye on the house— this is about you. 

And the realization sent a shiver down your spine.

Harwin nodded in agreement with your father’s words, his gaze still fixed on you. “Just a precaution,” his tone was even, as if this was all perfectly normal, perfectly reasonable. “I’m here to make sure you’re safe.”

Safe. The word echoed in your mind. You know what it really means— under surveillance, monitored, controlled. It’s not protection. This is not about your safety; your father wants to keep you on a leash, and you can already feel it tightening around you.

The corner of your lips twitched as you gave him a smile. “Thanks, Harwin. I appreciate it,” you said instead, dropping your gaze to the plate in front of you.

Your father continued eating, his attention seemingly on his breakfast, but you knew better. He’s always watching, always aware, and now, with Harwin here, you know you are under a different kind of watch.

But, at least, Harwin was polite enough to keep his distance. Though you could always feel his gaze following you, measuring every step you take, every breath. For the entire day, your father’s orders became clear— Harwin was here more than to protect you. He was here to ensure you don’t stray, that someone will watch every move you make.

“Harwin,” you called out softly before glancing over your shoulder. “Do you think we can go to the mall later?”

He seemed unfazed by the request, silently watching you lay on a lounger by the poolside with an open book perched on your lap. “No, Miss. If you need anything, I can have some of your housemaids to shop for you.”

“But I want fresh air?”

“We’re outside at the moment, Miss.”

“Yes, in our garden.”

He frowned a little. “The air is fresh as far as I can tell, Miss.”

And with that, you heaved a deep sigh. 

As the sun began to set, you found yourself in your room, your phone clutched in your hand. The events of the past hours have left you feeling trapped and cornered like a mouse. The walls of the house seemed to crumble in on you– it was suffocating.

You opened your messaging app, your fingers hovering over Aaron’s name. It’s been a day since he last responded, the silence from his end gnawing at you, but you couldn’t wait any longer. You need to see him. Besides, you have the information he surely needs. He would have no choice but to respond to your text this time.

Can we meet? you typed slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. You add the details quickly— I have the information. The usual spot?

You hesitated for a moment, your thumb hovering over the send button. But then you pressed it, the message shooting off into the void, your hope clinging to it like a lifeline.

The minutes ticked by in silence. Then your phone buzzed in your hand, with Aaron’s name lighting up the screen.

On my way, was all he said. And for some reason, it was enough. It has always been. So you sighed in relief and smiled to yourself.

Right then and there, you knew what you had to do next. Escaping Harwin’s notice won’t be easy, not with him and the other guards roaming the mansion, but you were determined. You have done it before, though never with this much at stake. 

Taking a deep breath, you slipped on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, something that will help you blend in. You grabbed a small bag, stuffed it with a few essentials, then waited for the right moment to finally move.

The silence of your house made every step and the creaking of hinges amplified. From the window, you see one of the guards patrolling the perimeter, his flashlight cutting through the growing dusk. You know there was another by the front gate, and probably more stationed at various points around the property. Getting past them will be tricky, but you have mapped out a plan in your mind.

Harwin was downstairs. The front gate was obviously not an option, not with him and the guards so close. Instead, you decide on your usual route— through the back, where the bushes and trees provide more cover and the lamp posts are seldomly lit.

You waited until a house helper passed by outside your room, her back turned. You moved quickly and quietly down the hallway as you slipped out, sticking close to the walls to avoid any creaking floorboards. The house, large as it is, felt stifling.

With quick strides, you reached the back staircase, your heart pounding in your ears as you descended. The kitchen was just down the hall, and beyond that, the back door that leads to the garden. But you were not alone.

From where you were standing, you heard footsteps— another house helper, moving through the kitchen. You held your breath, peering around the corner just enough to see her pass by, her attention focused on checking the locks. She didn’t see you, didn’t know you were there, but you almost choked on your saliva as you bit your tongue.

As quickly as she moved on, you seized your chance. You slipped into the kitchen, the cool tile under your feet grounding you as you cross to the back door. Your hands shook in fear and panic as you unlocked it, praying it didn’t make too much noise.

And it didn’t.

The garden is shrouded in twilight as you step outside, the cool evening air hitting your face. And for a moment, you felt a rush of freedom. You can’t remember how many times you’ve done this before. But it never, ever felt easy. You doubt it will ever be.

You slipped through the gate, closed it carefully behind you, and took off running down the back alley. You didn’t stop running until you were several blocks away; your lungs burning, your legs aching. Only then do you allow yourself to slow down, and breathe. 

It was almost a two-hour commute to the motel where you usually meet up with Aaron. The neon sign flickered in the dusk with a dull glow over the empty parking lot. You made your way to the room you know so well, pulling out the spare key Aaron gave you exactly a year ago.

Inside, the room was dimly lit, the thick curtains drawn shut. It was a modest place; a little different from the lavishness of your spacious room but you’ve loved this as much. With a soft thud, you dropped your bag on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, your breath still coming in quick, shallow bursts. The silence here is different from the silence at home— this one feels familiar, and light.

You checked your phone quickly, hoping to see another message from Aaron, but there was nothing. A small pang of worry settled in your chest, but you pushed it aside. Aaron never broke his promise. He said he was coming, and you trust him. All you have to do is wait.

Your eyes started to droop as you lay down on the soft mattress, the adrenaline of your escape wearing off. You felt drained. Your legs aching. You curled up on your side, your phone clutched in your hand, waiting for the sound of his knock on the door.

But the minutes dragged by and your eyes fluttered shut, and before you knew it, after a long while, you fell into a deep slumber.

“Angel… fuck…” someone’s hot breath fanning over your ear roused you from the depth of your sleep. “You feel so good…”

You stirred and attempted to stretch your arms, even move your legs when all of a sudden, you felt it. The cold air licked the bare surface of your naked body. A low whine rumbled through your chest as you slowly, groggily so, blinked your eyes in confusion. Your vision was unfocused for a moment, sending you into a flight of panic as you grew aware of what was happening.

“Who-” the question was left hanging in the air as soon as Aaron’s thumb found your aching clit.

His hard cock was pressed against your desperate cunt, sliding through your wet folds at a rousing pace. A quiet gasp escaped your lips as he continued rutting his girthy cock against your swollen clit. You have no idea how he managed to undress you without waking you up. Although it didn’t surprise you, you’re still curious– about how expert and knowledgeable Aaron was with every sexual act. And right now, a thin sheet of sweat was slowly covering your body.

“Aaron– sir–” you whimpered once more, unknowingly bucking your hips to meet his desperate thrusts. “What… what are you doing?”

He let out a deep groan. “You look so sweet sleeping, angel… couldn’t… help myself…”

“Feels so good…” you mewled in return, feeling your dripping cunt clenching in pure desperation for something to fill it up.

The sensation was new and overwhelming. One of Aaron’s big and calloused hands was kneading your breast, pinching your sensitive and taut nipple every now and then. While his mouth was just as busy— his tongue more so; sucking and nibbling, and biting your nipple as his cock slid through the folds of your dripping pussy.

A growl rumbled through his chest.

“Can... can I slide in the tip…” he whispered in a gruff and breathy voice. It sounded vulnerable and demanding, and desperate at the same time. “Just the tip, angel. Hm? Just the tip, I promise...”

You nodded frantically, your hands gripping both of his strong arms propped at either side of your smaller frame. “Just the tip…”

“Fucking hell…” you heard him murmur as he lined the head of his big cock against the entrance of your fluttering cunt. “This is so wrong, angel, but fuck… I never wanted to ruin anyone so badly until you.”

“S-sir…”

His teeth sank lightly at the curve of your collarbone. “I’m going to fucking ruin you, you hear me? I want my cum dripping out of your tight cunt.”

You shivered at the vulgarity of his words. Maybe it was forbidden. Maybe this was wrong. Maybe this will not end up well. But maybe this is the reason why you can’t seem to get enough of it, of his warmth, and his cock ramming in and out of you.

“Aa- Sir!” you screamed loudly, dragging your nails along his arms, your toes curling in pure, white-hot pleasure.

Aaron peppered your cheeks, your lips, and your forehead with light kisses, murmuring his quiet apologies as he forced his big cock inside of you. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, angel… I’m sorry…”

His promise now long forgotten as you felt the intoxicating burn of his cock stretching your tight cunt. You should’ve known better than to believe his promise. 

“You look so good like this, gorgeous…” he whispered in your ear, his big hands roaming your body as if memorizing every corner of it. “Is this what you wanted, huh? Is this why you kept texting me? Can’t get enough of my big cock, little girl?”

You nodded abstractedly. “M-missed you… I missed this…”

Aaron’s lips tugged to a menacing smirk.

“Is my innocent angel turning into a dirty whore?” he taunted, halting his movement. You could feel his hard cock throbbing inside you, rubbing your walls just right. And when you didn’t answer his question, you felt a sharp slap at the side of your thigh. “Answer me, baby. Are you my whore now?”

“Yes, sir… yes… only for you…” unshed tears stung the corner of your eyes.

“Tell me how bad you want it, angel...” he sounded mocking, his voice light with arousal. “Beg for my cock— no, no, no. Don’t you fucking dare look away.”

You shook your head weakly. “D-daddy…”

A high-pitched whine escaped your lips as you felt him slowly dragging his cock out of you. Tears rolled down your cheeks in humiliation. Your legs clung to the back of his thighs in a desperate attempt, locking him in place. Aaron even had the nerve to chuckle as he saw your tears streaming down your pretty face.

“P-please… please… sir…” you said breathlessly. “I want your big cock, sir. Please… please fill me up with your cum…”

Aaron’s cock pulsated against your walls as he heard your words, your voice as sweet and gentle as he first heard it. He clenched his jaw and whispered tauntingly. “Yeah? Is that all you can say, angel?”

“I need it, please… Aaron… Sir… please… I’m a good girl…”

“Are you?” he perked one of his thick eyebrows before ramming his cock inside you once again, hitting a spot so deep you rolled your eyes.

“I- I am…” you nodded frantically, taking a fistful of the sheet in your hands. “I waited for you, sir. Only you. Your big cock… only you, Aaron…”

“Did you touch yourself while I’m away?”

You tried closing your thighs a little as you felt his thumb pressing light circles on your swollen clit. “I- I did, sir. Yes- I thought about your cock… I want your cock so bad…”

“And what did you think about, little girl?” he grunted, pounding his cock slowly and shallowly, his thumb still rubbing your sensitive nub.

Your legs shook as you felt your incoming orgasm. “How good you fuck me. Your cum inside m-me… I always dream of it, sir… before I go to bed… I always want to hear your voice.”

Aaron’s thick eyebrows tugged together as his focus narrowed down on giving you pleasure. His cock continued assaulting your warm cunt, hissing and grunting every time you clench deliciously around his cock. The sound of your loud moan and his heavy breaths intertwined together, your eyes rolling back with the intense pleasure of your upcoming orgasm.

“Please, please… sir, please… make me cum…” you whispered hoarsely, your voice full of desperation. “So close. ‘M so close.”

“Yeah, little girl? Cum for me, then…” his thrust became even more vigorous, firmer. “Show me how good girl you are, baby. Go on, angel.”

“Aaron!” his name came out a scream. “I’m coming! I’m com–”

Your vision blurred out as intensely your orgasm ripped through every fiber of your being. Your legs trembled and clamped shut, making Aaron growl in the tightness of your cunt. It took him all the self-control not to cum then and there; seeing the pleasure on your face, the tears on your cheeks, your beautiful lips hanging in a silent scream.

Fuck. 

He’d go to hell for corrupting the innocent girl you once were.

“Sir…” you whispered weakly, your voice spent and quiet.

But Aaron paid you no mind. He hasn’t come yet. And he had no plan on letting you go after just one orgasm.  He wants to ruin you. To take over your being. He wants you to realize that he has all the control. He owns you, from the very first day he laid eyes on you, to the very first night you spent together. When you desperately opened your legs for him, you were his. He owned you since then and he can do everything he pleases.

Effortlessly, he pulled you up and switched your positions. He was now lying on his back, his piercing eyes focused on you as you scrambled to find your position on his lap, your legs still shaking from the remnants of your orgasm.

“I haven’t cum yet, little girl.”

You nodded quickly, understanding just well what he meant by that, your chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. “Yes, sir…”

“Make me proud, angel. Show me how good of a whore you are.”

Aaron let out a loud hiss as you lined the head of his leaking cock on your wet entrance, fluttering in anticipation as it welcome the familiar stretch. You let out a satisfied sigh, feeling your inner thigh wet with arousal and your release, and all Aaron could do was shiver as he felt the wetness the moment you fully sank down his cock.

With your palms resting on the soft surface of his stomach, you forced your legs to bounce up and down his hairy cock. Every once and a while, you’d clench around his girth unconsciously, which only made Aaron shut his eyes and pound into you harshly.

You moaned loudly, meeting the way his hips desperately chases yours. “Ah! Ah, s-sir!”

“You feel so good… so w-warm..” he mumbled dazedly, wetting his lips with his eyes closed. “This cunt’s heaven, baby. Fuck. You’ll send me to hell— fucking hell! Yes, clench that pussy tighter, angel! Fuck, I’m coming!”

You bounced even more desperately, fueled by his moaning, and his heavy breathing. The hoarness of his voice, the way the veins in his strong arms popped out, and how his big hands gripped your hips so tightly it left red, angry marks.

He fucked into you like you’re nothing but a fucktoy. Like you’re something he can discard— like you’re something he will discard the moment he reaches his high. And you’d be lying to say you don’t find that idea hot.

You clenched your cunt tighter, holding his hands that were wrapped around your hips.

“A-Aaron! S-sir! Ah!” his cock found the spot only he can reach. “I’m coming again, sir! D-daddy! Ah! Aaron, please, more! Fuck me harder, daddy!”

Aaron didn’t say anything but a loud growl rumbled through his chest. His chest heaving in sharp, restrained breaths.

“God, angel…” he rasped quietly.

A strangled sound of what seemed like your name escaped his lips. You let him take over, let him ruin you the way he wanted, his hand firm on your hips as he fucked into you. And the moment you felt his hips stutter, warm ropes finally spilled inside you; his big cock throbbing as he emptied himself deep into your willing cunt.

You heaved a sigh of satisfaction, tossing your head back with your eyes closed, feeling perfectly sated and elated at the moment.

If this is heaven, you will never, ever come down.

Even if it means you would beg God to forgive you.

As always, replies, likes, reblogs- everything is highly appreciated! I'm only planning on writing 5 chapters for this series. And please be aware that I'm not promising any happy ending. This will end up in angst unless something changes my mind. Also, listen to Lana's Gods & Monsters and feel the vibe of this series! Have a good day and drink your water! <3

Tag list: @downbad4reid, @readergf, @urbrazysimp, @roseydoesypoesy, @pastelpinkflowerlife, @justyourusualash, @hotchsmutrecs, @msfreedom, @birdysaturne, @gghostwriter, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @fore45fore, @actualdeemon, @diksy1112, @jethro-mcgee-tony, @hotchnerbau, @iniyalovesall, @222hwilsss, @balariie, @oliviabbb, @ncis0mrs0gibbs, @jasonswhitetuftofhair, @m4pl, @yiiiikesmish, @luv-unknwn, @thatonepersononline, @ilikwgirls, @ssamorganhotchner, @antonia29, @fandomtookoverlife, @hotchnerwife, @wandererseye, @marisamarisa @l0kilaufeys0n7, @promptly-mercy

[circeyoru]

Unwanted Soul = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

The Request

Part 1 (here) — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3

You weren’t a powerful Overlord nor were you the weaker ones to have their souls owned by other demons to survive in this hellhole. You’re merely capable enough to get by your everyday life. Like always, you’d stay clear from any of ongoing battles or powerful demons that were out and about. Your keen 6th sense to pinpoint potential dangers was always your go-to during your outings

You kind of treated Hell as your paradise to shut-in in your room and read all the comics you want plus watch all the TV shows you want. You were one of the rare demons that get connection to the Earth realm where you can enjoy the guilty pleasures you spend your days doing. Of course, your death was a suicide as you saw no life ahead of you

But you really really should have stayed in that day. It started out as any other day in Hell and you were on your way to the usual supermarkets for the junk food and drink you love. Normally, it was uneventful, until you caught sight of a dying demon, no, ‘wounded’ would be the right word since demons would only demon by angelic blades, even you knew that. Still, the demon was heavily wounded

It must have been a good few minutes since you caught weaker demons attempting to take advantage of the weakened demon as easy prey. You immediately took out your notebook, scribbing a phase before tearing it out and blow on it lightly. The page turned to white sparkles before taking shape of a row of angelic spears around you, it launched at the weak demons before they could do anything to the wounded one

You took went to the wounded demon quickly as your spears faded to nothing after doing its damage. You held his limb hand and closed your eyes, visualizing your cozy apartment and the ground swallowed the two of you up. In the blink of an eye, you were back home, sighing in relief

Not even a moment, you were knocked to the ground and pinned down by your shoulders and thigh. You struggled a bit before you realized it was the wounded demon that was pinning you down with radio dials for eyes

Without thinking, you reached into your coat pocket and took out a piece of paper, slamming it onto his face and blew at it. The paper faded to nothing but sparks then the demon stilled before closing his eyes and slumping forward onto you. Unconscious. But you invited someone you shouldn’t have into your home

This had to be Alastor, the Radio Demon

You grimaced, eying Alastor on top of you sleeping like a harmless deer. You thought of throwing him back out into the streets, but you didn’t exactly have the heart to. You came to the conclusion of healing him as fast as you could then sending him on his merry way! Yes!

Noooo!!! Why is he still here!?!?!?!?!?!?!??????!!!!!

“My dear, you really should be taking more care of your diet. This is hardly filling or healthy for you.” Alastor eyed the cup noodle you were about to open up like you were holding trash “But it’s fast and gets my hunger sated.” You eyed back, “It’s not like I’m feeding you this. I cook for your meals anyways…” You continued roaming around the kitchen, rubbing a fork, and setting a timer for your food. Ignoring the closeness of Alastor. “As long as it doesn’t concern you, it’ll be fine. I’ll treat you better since you just healed up. These are my own indulgence.” “And I appreciate your hospitality, dear, truly, I do. The matter at hand is your consumption!” Alastor grabbed your precious cup noodle lunch away, “I shall take over your meals from now on.”

Yes, you have fully healed Alastor and he’s back to full health. No, you didn’t tell him to stay. In fact, the moment his wounds were all healed, you showed him the open door, waiting for him to leave. He didn’t exactly let you make him leave. He said he was staying to repay your kindness, but all he was doing was inserting him into your afterlife and really making it Hell

At first, he praised your unique power to summon anything you write with a gentle blow, especially the part where you put him to sleep the first time. Then he urged you to make a name for yourself, but you really just want to shut yourself in your room and indulge in your time-wasting hobby. You told him off and shut yourself in your room, but he would just appear through the shadows and apologise, saying he’d leave the matter

When that whole business was done, Alastor got worse. You’re positive some other demons would love to be treated this way, but you’re just weirded out. It started out small, Alastor making meals like he said, shifting your schedule to a healthier one. Then taking care of your needs whenever you are about to do something. Even as simple as getting a glass of water

Then it escalated to touches. A handholding here, maybe he’s lean into you while reading. Or he’ll lay next to you in your own bed. Shift closer to you while on the couch. Stare at you while you were busy reading manga or watching animes and shows. Plus you could feel him staring at you while you sleep from the shadows even though you told him not to

But the most unnerving thing was when you would go restock on your food and other supplies. Alastor being the gentleman would carry and pay for your stuff. That you’re used to and didn’t care since either way, you had your methods. It was what happens during the two of you walking

“Alastor…” You hugged your coat tighter as your lips pressed together tightly from the scene, your eyebrows furrowed from the tense situation you were in. You had just left the shop to get new books and volumes, only to be met with such a sight. “What…” “My darling, your timing is perfect.” Alastor threw away the torn body of what used to be a demon. The street was covered with a layer of thick red and black blood. Hellborns and sinners alike were all brutally ripped away by the fearsome Radio Demon. “These pest dares to look at you wrongly, surely they deserve a good, limb pulling.” He walked over to you with his ever-present smile, offering his clean hand. “Shall we head home, My Doe?” You feel yourself tense as you firmly told him, “Just because they stare at me a little long and spat out rude remarks, it’s not an excuse or reason to torture them like this. I’m… I don’t exactly mind unless they attack.” Alastor grabbed your hand and kissed it, “Dearie, why give them the chance to harm you when I can prevent it? You can name and point fingers, I’ll be your killer.”

Trapped was what you felt at home and anywhere, as long as Alastor was there, you didn’t like it. Those sweet romantic gestures and attention from him that you would only see in your books and shows left a bad taste in your mouth. 

At the 4th year, however, something changed. Alastor sold his soul to you as the ‘last’ act of pure devotion and loyalty to you. Since the contract was all by your rules, you made use of it

Limit Alastor’s powers because it scares you how much he could do and the destruction he could cause. Forbid him from devouring or owning souls because he does it so easily when he thinks you were wronged in any way. And most importantly, forbid him from disobeying your words, whatever they may be, that way, you can finally have peace

How Alastor was still able to be this unnerving, you didn’t know and you didn’t want to know. Somehow, the contract was something like a declaration that the two of you were romantically involved with ecah other? If it made sense. It didn’t, really

Alastor still stayed with you because he had told you a long time ago that his home was destroyed in a brutal battle, hence why you found him that battered. So you offered yours. You did manage to set some firmer ground rules with the contract’s help. Like no entering your room or throwing away your junk food

Though Alastor still plays a big part in your life just because. You had wanted a lover before, but Alastor had proven how bad a relationship could go, and you two didn’t even established anything! You love fiction, fiction is life or afterlife. You can just drown yourself in the world of fiction and never leave

That’s the basis of your power. It’s like summoning through writing and the faint blow from your lips. You have to be aware of the components though, the hardest to summon was definitely the angel spears. It was the day after extermination and a spear was stuck into a demon, you were curious and took it back with you. You studied it and tested it out, knowing its strength and limitations before actually attempting to summon it. Works well enough, since it was easy to study

In the blink of an eye, 7 years had already passed. While Alastor was out on buying new ingredients for your celebration dinner of surviving another extermination, you caught the Princess of Hell and her promotion on the ‘Happy Hotel’. A place that welcomes anyone, a place that gives anyone a chance. It sounds lovely, but you didn’t have the mentality and energy to help out

A foolproof plan came to mind. You could, no, should send Alastor there. He loves entertainment! He wouldn’t be bored there! The hotel is much bigger and there’s more people there for him to hang out with. Plus he would definitely get a room there since he’s going to be staying. Even when he disagrees, because you just know he would rather stay by your side, you can use the contract as a last resort

“My dear!” Alastor greeted the moment he came back from his little shopping. He gave you a peak on the crown of your head when he walked past you, then headed to the table to place the bags of items down. “Did you hear about that ridiculous plan the Princess told in the picture box? Hahaha! It’s sure to fail! No way in any universe would just a silly and childish thing happen! No, sir!” “I want to help her with it, it sounds like a good plan. It’s better than annual exterminations.” You spoke while coming over to check the things Alastor brought. “But you know I’m more of a home person and not the go-out and help-others type.” “Exactly, dearie, we need not care for such fantasy.” Alastor nodded along. “That’s why you’re going in my place.” You stated firmly without blinking or shifting in your spot, at the growing static, you looked up to see Alastor’s eyes turned to radio dial. Very rarely are those directed at you since he swore he’d never do you harm or wish you harm. “You’ll go and help the Princess to make it a success.” Alastor’s eyes shifted back to normal, narrowing as he asked, “Till how long, my dear?” You had to control yourself to hide a smile as you spoke, “For as long as it takes of course. You can’t rush redemption, right? And it’s the first of its kind too.” The static grew again, you knew Alastor was getting annoyed with such a wish (order) from you. “But this would take a long while. I’d be returning to check on you, yes?” “Oh, no. Can’t interrupt your work.” You said, carrying your pile of snacks to your little comfort corner and dropping it with huff, there was a skip in your step as you returned back to the table. “You can’t come back here nor see me when in the service of the Princess. Well, you can see me when I’m the one to approach you or call for you, that’s the only exception.” Alastor would have a frown on by now if it weren’t for his insistence on the power of smiles, “Who would take care of you? Who would watch over you? Who would tend to you? Who would protect you while I’m gone, sweetheart?” You laughed, “Don’t be so dramatic. I can handle myself. It’s just like before I met you,” You didn’t miss the radio crackling like it broke connection, “But this time, I have you as a backup should I need.”

Making Alastor leave you wouldn’t have been possible without the contract and the fact that his soul was yours to control. Very pushy but you had to do what you had to, it was all to regain that quiet and isolated shut-in life you love. Never have you missed the silence in your home and the void of a watchful gaze all around you

You squealed and smiled brightly, “Time to chill and laze around!”

Oh how the Radio Demon was fuming as he made his way to that ratchaed hotel. He shouldn’t have let you know of such a news. If that inferno picture box was broken, then you wouldn’t know. No, you have your phone, so that makes no difference. Maybe it was the fact that that cannibal chef was gone that Charlie had time to promote that idea of hers? 

This would be his first appearance since 7 years ago. He kept his presence gone from the public eye just to hide his connection and fancy towards you. If demons knew you had his soul, who knows what danger you’d be in? He can’t let that happen to you. No, you were the kind soul that saved him and gave him a place to belong. Truly belong

Never had he felt such a sense of comfort around someone so lazy and chill. The fact that you were average but powerful in your right that you humble yourself to blend in with others. To live your afterlife as you please and like without a care in the world. So long as your interest was sated

He just couldn’t help but want to be yours. You deserve it, after all

But now. Now he had to provide his attention and care to some princess’ dream! What joke is this?!

Were you sending him away because he wasn’t strong enough? You limited his powers to see if he could still be as strong as before. Was that the reason? What other demon held your attention? As far as he knew. You have no interest in forming connections. He was the first one you actually cared for and hosted your home for! You don’t even own other souls and you’re strong!

He was your only one. Only!

In front of the hotel, he knocked rhythmically, waiting patiently for the door to be opened and for him to introduce himself. He’ll show you. “Hel—” The door closed shut in his face before it opened again, “-lo!”

His ears twitched as he heard the ruckus inside. These souls don’t deserve your time and attention spent on them, he’ll deal with the problem like always and return to your side. He’ll show you just how powerful and cruel he is and can be

The door opened again and he introduced himself with his plan in mind. “Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, princess. Quite a pleasure!”

Note: I really really didn't mean to do this so long... I could have put it into 2 parts, but I was too lazy to. There was actually some more I wanna add, but then it will be a literal essay. Anyways~ How you like this one?

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

[vrystalius]

Upper moons vs

Human nature of petting everything and or copying noises

Imagine them watching their human stop to pet an animal based demon (like a demon cat) and copying their meows and noises

(The demon can’t do shit bc they’re there. Muzan silently glaring, Douma claiming the demon is a personal pet now, kokushibo doesn’t need to even be there, his scent is STRONK, Akaza silently chuckling.)

The Upper moons + Muzan’s reaction to you snuggling with a cat-demon

The Upper Moons + Muzan reacting to you being all cutesy with a cat-demon.

Pairing: Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza x reader

Note: I imagined this cat-demon to be extremly disgusting and deformed. Some kind of weird horror creature XD I’m thinking about writing a fic about the hashira/upper moons get cursed and get cat ears of some kind. Also, this was fairly rushed. So sorry! <3

Muzan Kibutsuji

Muzan was experimenting with his blood and demon transformations, and what kind of different types of demons he can create. Just recently he made a cat-like demon. The behaviour of the creature was similar to that of a street cat. It had claws, patches of fur, cat-like ears and a short tail. It was even able to meow and purr, he noted. That thing is useless and hideous. Better to dispose of it before it causes any disturbances and annoyances.

He caught you snuggling up with this hideous demon while he was away to pick up his brand new suit. Muzan was not fond of the creature purring and laying its head on your lap while you were trying to teach it how to meow properly. Even glancing at the disgusting creature was enough to make Muzan feel a strange mix of disgust, disappointment and jealousy. Is he neglecting you to the point of you being willing to let this… thing… cuddle onto you? Also, why is this demon even daring to come this close to you?

Needless to say, disposing this waste of his blood was much sooner done than originally planned.

“Do not ever come too close to my experiments again unless either I am present or I allow you to.”

Kokushibo

Kokushibo always made sure to leave his scent on you at all times. Sometimes he’d give you one of his yukatas to wear or he might leave his scent by kissing your neck, marking your skin with hickeys.

This was a way to protect you from other demons approaching you and warning them of who is your protector whenever Kokushibo himself is not present.

Therefore, this cat-demon did not approach you. It smelled Upper Moon 1’s scent around you from across the halls of the infinity castle arc.

You never got to meet him.

Douma

He’s not fond of you interacting with other demons, especially the ones below Douma. What if they get too comfortable around you, hm? What then? He’d have to kill and eat them! He would never allow that!

This cat-demon was send to Douma by Lord Muzan to send out and search for the blue spider lily. He noticed pretty quickly how fond you became of this creature. You’re petting its fur, scratching behind the ears and even tried to imitate the meows its throwing at you.

Douma has a weird feeling in his stomach when watching you two. On one hand, you seem pretty happy with this weird pet cat demon. On the other hand, Douma could get you a regular kitty! That way, he doesn’t have to share you! Or if you want, Douma can meow for you. He just doesn’t really want you to be around this cat demon anymore! (Is he feeling jealous? He couldn’t possibly!)

“Dear lotus, how about you pet me instead, hmm? I can even meow for you if you like!”

Akaza

Who the hell is this damn demon? Why did this cat creature think it can just snuggle up onto you and act like you’re not already taken, huh? Can’t that thing notice Akaza’s smell on you? Oh it’s fucking infuriating him. He’s trying very hard to not slam the head of this freak against the floor until it dies and returns to the hellhole it came out of. The audacity to snuggle up on your lap and to act all innocent and stupid. Perhaps that demon creature is too stupid to realise that it’s utterly disgusting.

Yet, you welcomed it and scratched the fuzzy head of this demon, copying its odd meowing.

“Baby. Let it go.”

💠

My brain is getting fried right now by school work, so I might neglect asks for a little while to concentrate on my own works. I sometimes can’t fully concentrate or come up with good things for asks, so so sorry! I’ll work on them on the weekend and days where I feel more energised! <3

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

[nmakii]

CAN’T REMEMBER TO FORGET YOU

[before you read this, check out the rest of the story!]

— running away from alastor wasn’t so hard the first time, who says you can’t do it again while pregnant?

alastor; the monster you call husband. he was absolutely by all definitions, obsessed. he never left your side— cooking all your meals, escorting you everywhere, even watching you sleep.

he proudly announced your pregnancy on live radio, sealing that you are his. no man will want for you anymore, he has defiled your purity. he clung onto you like a leech, draining away what little happiness you had left.

you just had to get away from that monster. you couldn’t stand another second in this hellhole house, everything in it was a cruel reminder that you’re trapped with no way to escape.

well, you’re not gonna just fall into his trap. it was then that you had planned to run away. far into saint bernard, where no one knew who you were.

and with that plan in mind, you packed all you could and ran. running south with wild abandon, you needed to run far as far from alastor as possible.

you took shelter at a rundown motel while you got back on your feet, taking a singing gig at a club down the street.

you sang well, earning favorable tips from the drunk men who desired you, wanting to see what else was underneath your signature loose flowy dresses. and with that money, you were able to afford a small house with the basic necessities. well, enough for when your child was born.

being a single mother had been rough, when you went to work at night, you entrusted your son, noah with one of your neighbors who you had grown fond of. you sent noah off to a public school, it was not the best, but it was all you could afford.

soon enough, your hard work truly paid off, you were able to live much more comfortably, buying your son the things he could ever want for.

true, there were times that your son wondered where his father was… and to that, you decided to tell him the complete truth; of how alastor is an evil man, a sort of big bad wolf. and, how you ran away to protect him and keep him safe from that wolf.

and, to him, that was a reasonable explanation.

7 years passed by, your son grew into a handsome little boy. handsome, yet you couldn’t look him in the eye. everyday, as he grew up, he started looking more and more just like his father; the tuft of chestnut brown hair, those piercing eyes, and that smile— it was all resembling the monster you ran away from. it seems as if all that your son inherited from you was your heart.

as you walked over to the bar, you spotted your co-worker mimzy slacking off. it wasn’t often that your shifts had co-incided, but the two of you still remained aquaintances. she was apparently talking up some fellow, probably trying to milk some cash out of him.

and as you took a peek of the poor soul mimzy had decided to prey on, your frame froze. was that alastor? what was he doing so far out from new orleans? your breath hitched as you walked back, trying to move as far away from that wretched man.

maybe you shouldn’t buy heels from thrift stores anymore.

the heel on your right foot snapped as you fell onto your butt. this had caught the attention of alastor, excusing himself from the conversation as he walked towards you.

you shuffled back into the crowd as best as you could, crawling away before he could get his hands on you. and still, you weren’t fast enough. alastor bended down by his waist, a smile plastered on his face. “why, say it ain’t so! if it isn’t my darling wife.” he laughed. “ex-wife.” you corrected. “ah-ah” alastor tutted, wagging his finger. “wife. we never had a formal divorce. did we, dear?”

“whatever…” you scoffed, still moving back. “say, where is our child? the one you’ve hidden from me for 7 years? i’m sure they’ll be delighted to meet me after you’ve kept us apart for so long!” he rambled on. “get away from me, alastor. you’ll never meet my child.” you said, finally getting back up on your feet, albeit the broken heel. “won’t you at least tell me their name?” he pleaded, doe eyes begging you. the doe eyes that made you crawl back every time.

“…noah. his name is noah” you frowned, glaring up at alastor. “noah. what a beautiful name for our son.” he mused. “now, would you leave me alone?” you hissed, pushing him away.

despite his lanky frame, alastor had barely moved. “my love, do you think i of all people would let you off the hook so easily? all the scheming, forcing you into an affair, into running away, crawling back to me, even following you far into this club— i wouldn’t want it all to be for naught…” he frowned, explaining his plan as he backed you into a wall, a predatory shine in the way he stared at you.

alastor planned it all..? all the ‘hardships’ you faced— all of it was in some elaborate scheme. no word could’ve described the overwhelming betrayal that overcame you. you just wanted to get out of this club, run home to your son, and run farther away. to another city, a different state, or even a different country! anything to keep him far away from his father. “now that you’ve had your fun, dear… i think it’s time you and noah return home. you can’t keep my son away from me forever. plus, my mother has been dying to meet her grandchild!” he laughed, holding you by the waist.

alastor took note of how you submissively agreed, letting him take you back to your true home. it seems you finally learned your lesson; there’s no escaping alastor. no matter what you do, it’ll end with you back in his bed, back in his arms.

“come now, my doe. it’s not safe to leave noah alone at home.” he chided, opening your side of the car door. “he must be quite confused right now. after all, he’s in the room we had prepared for him all those years ago, he must have no idea where he is right now!”

ah…

there was no use keeping alastor away.

he’d always find his way back, even through drab methods.

[aetherdoesthings]

would you like a new home? (pt. 3.2)

forethoughts: i maxxed out arlecchino to lvl 90 🤩. rip all my fragile resins.

notes: gn!child!reader, NOT AN X READER READER IS A CHILD IN THIS!!!

Arlecchino was working when the caretaker had entered her office. She suppressed her disdain and annoyance as she asked the caretaker what was so important her work time had to be disrupted.

Arlecchino immediately stood up and stormed towards the caretaker when she heard your name.

“Y/N had gotten in a fight with another child? Two children?” Arlecchino pursed her lips, eyebrows furrowed. The caretaker elaborated more, handing her two distinct blades, one stained with blood.

“We have them in their room right now. The other two is in the infirmary. How would a child get their hands on such dangerous objects?” The caretaker commented, as Arlecchino took both blades, clutching both helms with one hand.

“I will deal with this.” Arlecchino walked out of her office, marching towards the infirmary. After all, you could use some more time to reflect before you would meet her.

You sat on your bed, knees to your chest and head on your knees as you stared at the wall. Father’s broken compass was next to you, the needle finally taking a rest. You could imagine the children outside gossiping and decreasing your odds of ever making friends in this hellhole of an orphanage. How you had injured the most popular kid. 

Father made sure you knew not to care about what the others said about you. And you didn’t at all.

Father.

How was Father taking in the information?

Surely Father was already informed about the fight. 

Your heart sank a little when you tried to imagine how Father was feeling. The betrayal. The hurt. The shock that you had used your new toys Father had only taught you on one of your ‘kin’. Perhaps the boy was right. In the end of the day Father might as well revoke everything she had given you. Including this room.

The sound of the doorknob twisting open shattered your confidence and determination you had about the fight, the sounds of Father’s heel clicking against the marble ground sending spiders down your spine. You felt a dip in the mattress being created, as Father sat down next to you, mere inches away. Father sat there, observing your hunched figure with a stoic expression in the deafening silence. You heard her pick up her broken compass-the gift she had given you to take care of. And it was completely shattered.

“...I’m sorry.” You murmured, breaking the silent barrier. “I tried to stop them from breaking it.”

Father let out a chuckle. “Anything that can break will break. Some can be fixed, some cannot.” 

You felt Father’s eyes pierce your skull, causing your gaze to fall even lower. To your surprise, a hand was placed on your head, combing through your hair. You were shuffled closer to Father’s body, until your shoulder touched hers. “How are you feeling, dear? Are you alright?”

Father was… comforting you? 

Your shoulders relaxed a little, but they were still stiff.

“I-I’m… okay.”

“Did they hurt you in any way?” You bit your lips, the conversation one of the orphans had with you while their foot was on your head was still fresh in your mind.

“Yes…” You mumbled, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve.

Father noticed-of course she did-, and placed her hand in yours, rubbing small circles on your palm.

“How so?”

You looked down. “...They started it.”

“Okay.” Father said calmly. “How so? And do look at me when you do.”

You reluctantly lifted your head, meeting Father’ surprisingly warm and calm gaze. “I was admiring the compass you had given me. And then one of them tripped me and took the compass and started playing with it. The other one shoved me and placed his feet on my head and pressed it down.”

You swore you saw Father’s eye twitch at your last sentence. 

“The one pressing my head against the ground told me I had to ask you to have a smaller room, no dessert, last in line and an earlier curfew than the other orphans.” You spat each word out with poison. “They threatened to break Father’s compass if I did not do what they said. He shoved me first and attacked me. Father said if I was attacked first I could use my toys. So I did. I tried talking to them first but they wouldn’t listen. I did what Father said to do before I used my toys.”

Father remained silent, as her hand brushed over the area the boy had stepped on your head. “Does your head hurt now?”

“A-A little… b-but it's nothing…” 

Father ignored your comment, as she lifted your body so you were on her lap. She examined the area the boy stepped on. Placing a single finger on the area was enough to make you shiver, the corners of your eyes burn and tears threatening to fall.

“My poor child…” Father sighed, wrapping her arms around your frail body.

Now your tears were really threatening to fall. “I-I’m sorry for using my new toys on the other orphans… I’m sorry for disobeying Father’s rule… I promise it won’t happen again. F-Father can take away my room a-and move me back to that room w-with the other orphans, put me last in line for food and give me an earlier curfew. I’ll take it without complaint. I d-deserve it for disappointing Father.”

“Nonsense, my child.” Father placed her fingers on your chin, forcing you to look her in the eyes. She moved her hand to your cheek, wiping your tears away with a gentle wipe of her thumb. “None of those things will happen. I will not punish you for acting in self defense. I am not disappointed in you for trying to defend yourself.”

“B-But-”

“No buts. What happened has happened. You are hurt; they are hurt. Adding more pain and suffering to one side of the scale will not make it balanced nor just.” Father’s lips turned into a thin smile, as she let out a sigh. “Come. Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed, okay? It has been a long day for you.”

Father lifted you up in her arms, cradling you as she carried you to what you could only assume to be her private bathroom, seeing she had walked past the showering hall. 

“Father…?” You hesitantly asked.

“Yes, my dear?”

“...Why did you give me all those perks? A new room, first in line, no curfew?”

Father let out a sigh. “Even looking back I do not understand why I had the urge to do all those for you. I suppose it was because I was concerned and worried about you, my child. I could not bear to watch you sit alone and always get the last pick for everything. I could not bear to sit in the sidelines and watch you try and hold your tears back as you watched dust move across the ground. I could not bear to watch the other children treat you like filth when you were the kindness out of all. I believed that giving you some perks would help make your stay more… comfortable.”

Father paused. “Has it… made your stay more comfortable?”

You looked at the ground, your head resting on Father’s shoulder. “A little…”

Father let out a chuckle. “Better than none.”

Father carried you to her private bathroom, setting you down in the tub as she lathered soap across your back and body, washing your hair. Her touch was delicate and gentle, never lingering in one spot for too long or applying a large amount of pressure. Father dried you with one of her towels, dressing you in silk pajamas before carrying you back to your room. You found it hard to believe. You had injured two of Father’s children, and yet while they were in the infirmary, legs immobilized, you were wearing silk pajamas, being washed by Father, and coddled all along the way.

As Father laid you down in bed, brushing your hair one last time and planting a kiss on your forehead, you couldn’t help but ask.

“Why does Father treat me so well? Father w-wouldn’t do any of this for the others, would she?” You blurted out.

Father chuckled at your question, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards. “Perhaps it is true I treat you much differently and better than the rest. Perhaps I do have a sense of favoritism towards you. Perhaps it is because I see a part of me in you. No matter. Soon, my dear child, all of this will be over. I will deal with this. Do not worry about the other two children. Get some rest, my child, and all will be well. I will be coming back shortly to deliver you dinner.”

Father walked away, turning off the lights in your room as she shut the door. You laid there on your bed, her words echoing in your head. Father saw herself in you? Your little mind didn’t know how to think about that.

But all you knew was that Father cared for you.

Father loved you. 

Father was not mad. 

Father said everything will be better.

So everything will be better.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

This is a pretty serious topic, so feel free to not answer if you don't want to.

How would the Sdv and Sve bachelor/ette's react to the Farmer (who's their partner) flinching when they moved suddenly? As in, the farmer subconsciously thought their partner was about to hit them

Oof...

Pretty dark topic, but I want pain and glass so why not 🥲 Thanks so much for the question, dear anon 💕

⚠️Warning: angst, mention of past abusive relationship/physical abuse, mention of domestic violence, swearing, and a lot of hurt/comfort

_________________________________________

Stardew Valley:

SDV bachelors:

Shane had never had such a desire to break someone's nose. To punch with all his might, to break a jaw, to knock out teeth, to make the bastard who dared to raise a hand against Farmer regret their cowardice and wish they'd never been born. Too bad they're somewhere far away... No, it's not a pity, let this fucking asshole die in their hellhole. What's important right now that Farmer's here, and Shane's gonna be right there with them. He's gonna suggest that Farmer go to therapy. It really helps, Shane's realized that himself. And he'll be there for Farmer, he'll never leave them. And would never hit them.

Alex knows all too well why Farmer flinched like that, and his heart filled with rage. The same way his mom clutched herself, hiding her face from the heavy hand of her alcoholic husband... The very thought that his dearest Farmer, the love of his life, had thought he would hit them, that Alex would be like his father, made him shiver with unbridled hatred for whoever had made Farmer feel that way. But the athlete will calm himself down, and do whatever it takes to help and protect Farmer. He would never, ever hit them. Never.

Sam has a look of utter confusion on his face. "Babe, what's wrong?" The young guitarist was just chasing flies, and now doesn't understand why Farmer hid their face in their hands. Is something wrong? Why do they look like they're crying? When Farmer tells him the reason (which they were previously afraid to tell), Sammy's heart just cracks to pieces. He will put his arms around Farmer and slowly rock them. If they are comfortable, Sam will listen to them carefully and try to cheer them up, showering them with kisses and affectionate words.

Elliott would simply become speechless. "My love, you didn't think I'd..." He can't even get the words out. He knows that Farmer's relatives treated them horribly, his partner have told the writer about it. He knows that recovering from such trauma will not be easy or quick. Elliott won't leave them alone with the trouble. But did they really thought that Elliott would allow himself to fall so low and raise his hand against them? The writer's in tears. It hurts him, but Elliott is in no way angry with Farmer. No, he loves them with all his heart.

Sebastian would never forget the moment in his childhood when his biological father was ready to slap him. Luckily, Robin managed to catch the man's arm before that, and Sebby never saw his bio father again. As he grew older, Sebastian realized exactly what that man had intended to do. He was disgusted to even think of doing that to anyone, much less the person he loves and adore endlessly. He would take the Farmer's hands, look them in the eye, and tell them that he loved them and would never, under any circumstances, raise a hand against them.

Harvey will put Farmer in a hug, but the doctor still won't be able to hold back the tears. Harvey knows that Farmer has only recently, on the advice of their beloved husband, sought professional help, that progress won't be immediate, and that it takes a very long, long time to work at it. But for Harvey, every time Farmer flinches at their husband's sudden movement is like the first time - shock, confusion, sadness, pain. And even worse when the Farmers began to blame themselves for this behavior. No, Farmer, it's not your fault. Harvey won't let their partner think it's their fault.

_________________________________________

SDV bachelorettes:

Abigail is hella confused.... Why are they flinched? Wha- What do they mean!? She loves Farmer, how did they even think of that?! Abby got angry, but would quickly cool down and start apologizing to an even more frightened Farmer. She didn't mean to yell at them like that, but the image that her partner thought she would take a swing at them just threw her off. Ugh, if those creeps who had hurt Farmer came to the Valley, then the amethyst lover would pelt them with such stink bombs that even the skunks would turn their noses away from them. Hehehe, good thing that made Farmer laugh. Right, fuck those bastards.

Leah can't believe her ears. Farmer, she is holding an axe! How could they think that their wife would dare swing at them with a sharp axe?! The fact that someone actually tried to swing something like that at Farmer made the blood in the artist's veins boil. She wasn't angry at Farmer, naturally, but at the bastard who'd treated Farmer like that. And don't let her partner worry: if their ex abuser dared to come in the Stardew Valley, Leah would definitely use her axe... Okay, maybe not so radical, but this person won't lay a finger on her precious partner. She'll defend them to the last, that's for sure.

Penny is a very peaceful, fragile and gentle girl. How can anyone imagine that she is capable of such a thing - to hit Farmer, love of her life? For a young teacher, family is sacred! Her spouse, her children, it's... She will never agree with the people who justify violence and abuse with "discipline" or "tough love". For in Penny's mind, someone who can easily hurt a loved one is not worthy of those loved ones. The red-haired girl bursts into tears. She cannot calmly see how Farmer is scared and hurt because of their ex. But she will find the way to help them. Together, they will overcome it.

Maru was upset at first, because she thought that the Farmer was afraid of her next invention (she could not forget the humiliating incident when they were electrocuted). Only after a couple of seconds Maru realized that they looked with fear not at her device lying on the table, but at herself. She doesn't understand what's wrong. It's not like she has any super dangerous wires or parts with her, see? What? The Farmer thought Maru was going to... hit them? She loves them! Never, you heard her, Farmer, she would never....

Emily is a person who values life and the comfort of every creature. Happiness and positive emotions for everyone around her, especially for her close people and friends. Because of this, the very thought of Farmer hiding their face from what they thought was a punch made the blue-haired girl upset. Farmer had told her about their... not-so-good relatives, who left her lover with this trauma. Emily tries her best to make the house as comfortable as possible for Farmer, and they know it and will always be grateful to their loving wife.

Haley had had partners in the past who, as she found out later, lived by the principle of "beats means love". She wouldn't let those pieces of shit around her anymore, and made a promise to herself never to get involved with such people and never to fall to their level. And Farmer flinched so much at Haley's sudden movement made her remember her exes. She is furious. But right now, the most important thing to her was her beloved Farmer. Haley apologizes for the sudden move, shares her experience and wisdom on how she handled the abuse earlier, and assures Farmer that she will never do to them what Haley's exes tried to do to her.

_________________________________________

Stardew Valley Expanded:

SVE bachelors:

Lance had many swordsmanship and magic teachers in his youth. Almost all of them were excellent and taught him many things that helped him in life. There were some that set impossible conditions for Lance, and when he failed, took up their tools to punishment... Lance had the guts to stand up to it, and there were also people who stood up for him. Farmer didn't have anyone to help then, and Lance won't let that happen again. He genuinely loves Farmer and he wouldn't dare let himself fall so low. They vowed to each other to share both joy and sorrow together. Lance will always love them.

Magnus faced various conflicts when he was married for the first time. Misunderstandings, quarrels, arguments - it's quite natural for a couple. But the wizard would never, ever raise a hand against his partner, and he would despise anyone who justified violence and abuse of authority. He would immediately calm the shuddering Farmer and begin to comfort them. If those pathetic excuse of humans showed up at their farm, Magnus would disintegrate them with a snap of his fingers. Ministry rules? There's a one rule in the Mage Law that allows the use of magic for self-defence and the protection of loved ones. So let the Farmer not worry about this.

Victor, overwhelmed with the good news about his bridge-building practice, raised both arms to hug Farmer, but immediately pulled back when he saw how much they flinched. "Honey, did I do something wrong?" "You didn't... You're not going to hit me, are you?" "What?...." If anyone heard the sound of cracking glass, know this - Victor's heart had shattered into a thousand shards. The spaghetti lover was confused for a few moments, but pulled himself together and cautiously approached the Farmer. Victor hugged them tightly, allowing his partner to snuggle into his shoulder and cry while Victor listened to them, slowly rocking and covering them with kisses.

_________________________________________

SVE bachelorettes:

Olivia is not mad at Farmer in any way. And quickly put a stop to all their attempts to make themselves look guilty for being so flummoxed by the sudden movement of Olivia's hand. Her partner has been victimized in the past by the simply disgusting treatment from the scum who dared to reach out their paws to Farmer has spurred Olivia to pull up all her connections in the city. She knows their names and all the information she needs to turn their lives into a nightmare. In the meantime, Olivia herself will devote all her attention to her precious Farmer and family.

Claire could not have imagined that her desire to show her partner a new ballet movement she had learnt would end like... this: Farmer shivers slightly and looks at the red-haired girl with a share of fear, while Claire stands still, motionless as if struck by lightning. The former Jojarmart cashier slowly and carefully walks over to Farmer and asks permission to hug them. The Farmer agreed, of course, and before launching into an endless stream of words about how it was their own fault, Claire only reassured them and continued to hug them. She was now too shocked that the Farmer had thought Claire would dare to injure them....

Sophia was completely unaware of what had just happened: the pink-haired girl raised her hand for her partner to high-five, but instead they covered their heads with their hands as if expecting a punch. Had she done something wrong? What, did the farmer really expect a punch? She... She... If Sophia tried to say anything, Farmer wouldn't understand anything anyway - the flood of tears on Sophia's face and the lump in her throat from crying interrupted all words. She would hug the Farmer, hold onto them like a lifeline and sob. She would say through her sobs that she loved them very much and would never be a monster like those who had hurt Farmer.

_________________________________________

[macabr3-barbi3]

Hex: Smile Like You Mean It

guys I'm sorry I have no self control- enjoy my brain worms thinking that there needs to be a Hazbin/Dead by Daylight crossover (you can blame/thank @fraugwinska for encouraging me)

Tags: mentions of murder, blood and gore; brief mention of tentacles but not anything fun lol; vaginal sex; female reader

I have like two more parts planned for this fic specifically (and maaayyybe a little something planned for Halloween with my beloved Frau ❤️)

There was something weird about this new killer.

It took a while to notice the pattern- between the different trials and trying to repair generators and not get sliced to pieces or shoved onto a meat hook from the other killers- but once you got the idea in your head, it was impossible to ignore. You hadn’t mentioned anything to the other survivors yet, wanting to be sure before you brought it up and potentially pissed off all of the men and made them sulky and irritated in the other trials.

But it’s confirmed for you when the Radio Demon gives you a cheeky wave on your way out the exit gate after hooking Dwight, Gabriel, and Felix, his red eyes glowing in the darkness of the swamp and his antlers silhouetted by the light from the incomplete generators, having opened the gate for you as you were searching for the hatch.

He was sparing the women every chance that he could. The only time he even swung at one of you was if someone was trying to get him to drop one of the guys, and it was more like the batting away of a fly than him trying to inflict any serious damage. He would chase for a while before diverting or slipping into shadows to go after one of the men, he tutted disapprovingly when you dropped a pallet on his head, he would stand menacingly off to the side while you worked on generators, pleasant jazz in your ears in lieu of a thudding heartbeat. You had only been hooked by him one time, in a trial with four female survivors, and he had offered you a static-y “awfully sorry, my dear” as he pierced your shoulder, fading into shadows and giving Sable plenty of time to safely unhook you and heal you with her medkit. You all escaped- Nea even hung behind to find the hatch while the rest of you ran out the gate. When she returned to the fire she told you that she hadn’t seen a glimpse of him; the only sign that she wasn’t alone was the distant sound of jazz echoing across the farm.

You should have just accepted it. Told the other girls so you could coordinate and plan your trials when you arrived in them, so they all had some sense of peace in this hellhole. A killer that showed as much mercy as was possible in the Entity’s realm was a rarity- sure, every once in a while Ghostface would ease up and let everyone escape, enforce the completion of generators, encourage you all to help each other and drop pallets and cleanse totems. But the next trial he was always right back to merciless slaughter, like the generosity he had shown was just to change the pace a little, make things more interesting for himself, or maybe give himself something to be angry about the next time he faced the survivors.

But it burned in your mind. Why was the Radio Demon like this? Why was the Entity allowing it? You had just as little information about him as you did any of the other killers; some of them at least had a realm that they were linked to, that could provide some sort of clue. But with him there was nothing- he flitted between maps as trials changed, he never spoke to anyone, and he only went after the men when he could help it. The curiosity, the need to know consumed you.

So this time, when you spawn into the Racoon City Police Department, you work on the generators alone and avoid David, Nancy, and Leon as they run from the strange deer demon. A few minutes and some agonizing screams later, two loud booms ring out as Leon and David are sacrificed to the Entity.

Moments later, the exit gates open, spindly pikes coming up out of the ground to cover the generator you had been working on, and Nancy is at your side. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” she cries, her clothes stained in blood from trying to heal Leon before the Radio Demon downed him, and she’s pulling on your arm towards the gates.

“You go on,” you tell her. “I’m gonna try to find the hatch- I’ll see you back at the fire.” She doesn’t hesitate, only a single anxious nod before she’s off. As soon as you hear the vague humming of the hatch, you abandon the generator and search for the Hex totem- you know he has one, even if you don’t know exactly what kind of powers it grants him. But you do know that cleansing it, dismantling it, will alert him to your presence and hopefully save you the trouble of having to hunt him down. 

You stumble across him before you can even really start searching for the totem- seated at a desk off the main room of the police department, sipping at a mug. “My my, how brave you are!” He says, without turning to look at you, the jazz that he emits soft and somehow soothing in the quiet of the building. “Your little friend has escaped now- why don’t you run along with her?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” you tell him, and drop yourself into one of the nearby rolling chairs as a bell rings out, signaling that the exit gates would be closing soon. One of his ears perks up- and you’ll have to tell Feng that they are ears, because everyone had been debating and she was dead set on thinking that it was just strangely styled hair- and he swivels the chair around to look at you, eyes trailing up and down your much shorter frame. “Why do you always let the women go?”

“Ha! I had wondered how long it would take for one of you to notice.” He smiles, teeth razor sharp and dangerous, reminding you that despite his demeanor and how politely he speaks and the antlers atop his soft and fluffy hair, he’s still a predator- chosen by the Entity for his bloodlust to fuel these forsaken realms and inspire fear. “I merely operate by my own rules, that’s all!”

“And the Entity is okay with that?”

He leans forward so suddenly you almost don’t move back in time, jerking away as he appears in your personal space. “She prefers sacrifices, but she feeds on the emotions,” he says, delighting in the way that your heart rate increases and you grip the arms of your chair. “The uncertainty of not knowing if you’ll live or die. The adrenaline of a chase and knowing that if I catch you, you’ll be tossed on a hook like cattle. The terror in wondering if your luck has finally run out, and that perhaps this will be the time I acquaint you with my knife.” The mentioned blade is at your cheek then, materializing in his hand from the shadow and swiftly moving; not pressing in but merely resting on the soft skin there. “Don’t worry, darling,” he says softly at your sharp intake of breath. “I don’t need to hurt you. You’re already feeding her now- curious, don’t you think? That despite the trial being effectively over this realm hasn’t collapsed and sent us back to our respective areas with the others? It’s like a delicacy to her, a spot of curiosity and intrigue and excitement instead of the usual droll. She wants to see how this plays out.” 

The knife disappears. “Anyway, you’re correct in your assumption- I avoid the women when I can, because the emotions alone are satisfactory. The Entity knew about my… hm, let’s say ‘moral guidelines,’ when she brought me on board.”

You’re still frozen in place, the volatile nature of the situation making you cautious in your intrigue- he was unpredictable, and apparently the Entity was too. “You can’t do the same for the guys, then? If the emotions are enough?”

“Well, I have to bring something to the table, don’t I?” He finally moves back, settling back into his own seat. “She’d hardly have chosen me if she thought I would give her nothing- unfortunately for your male friends, they align more closely with those I targeted in life. In exchange for being able to spare you lovely ladies, the men cannot be allowed to leave.”

“I see.” You sit in companionable silence for a few minutes- imagine that; companionable! With a killer! - before you realize that the sound of the gate timer has stopped. Time is effectively frozen in the realm, like the Entity waits with bated breath to see what will happen next. “So, what happens now? Now that I know for sure, I mean. I don’t imagine you’ll just let me go.”

He regards you through narrowed eyes, the smile never leaving his face. “Hm, a curious situation we find ourselves in to be sure! I don’t presume you would keep my little secret out of the goodness of your heart?” He takes your silence as an answer. “Well, I can’t very well have you running off to tell your little friends, can I? If they know the game there goes all those delicious anticipatory emotions for the Entity, which puts me back at square one of having to kill everyone- despite my own moral obligations, I do fear that She can make me do her bidding if she’s not getting what she wants.”

As if to agree with him, the realm creaks and shakes, pictures falling from the walls of the office you sit in and shattering on the floor. “Quite the conundrum then- what to do with you!” He waves his hand and a tendril emerges from the darkness, circling you in the office chair, applying pressure to spin you in a slow circle before the demon. “Perhaps you could be persuaded to accept a deal for your silence?” Alastor rests his head in his hand, legs crossed at the knee as he watches you closely.

The atmosphere changes, dark shadows growing up the walls that surround you, never taking your eyes off Alastor. “What kind of deal?”

Your chair jerks forward, the wisps of darkness wrapping around the wheels and tugging it forward, tipping you out of the chair and effectively into Alastor’s lap, arms on either side of his head to hold yourself up. “As I mentioned, she feeds more off the emotions than the true sacrifices,” he murmurs, a tight grip on your arm and the other curling around the back of your neck to bring your face closer. His breath tingles against your lips as he speaks. “I believe we could provide her with more… pleasant emotions, if you’re agreeable to it.” The grasp on your arm loosens, sharp claws trailing delicately across the skin, sending shivers through your body. “A bit of a palette cleanser for all of us! Something to look forward to once in a while among all the carnage and death- in return for your silence and playing your usual part, of course.”

He couldn’t be proposing what it sounded like- and yet, his fingers are carding gently through your hair, the softest touch you’ve felt in months since coming to this place, his nails scratching pleasantly at your scalp as you tremble in his hold; fear, adrenaline, anticipation all spiraling and settling somewhere so low in your gut that it feels like arousal despite this world that you’re in, seated in the lap of a man with teeth so sharp they tear through flesh like knives. You should leave while his guard is down- you had no idea if the hatch would still be open but it seemed like the timer had stopped on the gates-

“H- how often?” You ask, instead of fleeing, and the fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin settles onto your waist, claws prickling through the summer dress you had been dragged into the Entity’s realm in.

“I believe that would be up to Her,” he says, and drops his head to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, sharp teeth gently brushing across your pulse point, where your heartbeat makes itself known. “We can’t have our private moments too often I would think; what would all your little friends say if you were missing so frequently? We can sort out the sordid details later, darling- focus on me now.”

And with that he pulls back far enough that his shadowy tentacles can slip between your bodies, pulling your dress up over your head and leaving you perched in his lap in just your panties. Alastor is leaning back in before you can cover yourself, his mouth latching on to the swell of your nipple and sucking it hard into his mouth, tongue swirling around the tip with a free hand coming down to tug at the flimsy fabric of your panties, the mere suggestion of his claws reducing them to scraps. His grip back on the soft curve of your hip, he pulls your body down against him to grind against the wet heat between your thighs, a reverberating groan against your chest that sends heat rocketing through your body.

It’s the most perfect thing you’ve felt in ages- firm pressure against your clit where his erection strains against his slacks, the slickness of your arousal irreparably ruining them. You hope for both of your sakes that despite the strangeness of the trial you were in, your clothing would be reset like it usually was; showing up to the fire completely naked wasn’t something that you wanted to be subjected to, nor was what would be unavoidable scrutiny from your teammates at taking so long in the trial and then showing up unclothed.

“You’re far too preoccupied with whatever is in that lovely head of yours,” Alastor says around a nipple, giving it a parting kiss before moving to the other side. “Am I not adequately entertaining you, my dear?” He continues to rut his hips up against you as he speaks, the tinkling of a belt buckle making you look down to see more of his tentacles undoing his pants so he doesn’t have to take his hands off you. That’s the thought that finally has you releasing the shaky breath you’ve been holding back, hands coming off the back of the armchair to tangle in his hair and clutch him closer to your chest. Sudden, burning heat presses against you, a moan suppressed into your skin as Alastor pulls back, kissing along your collarbone. “I’d so hate for you to be bored,” he says politely, and starts to shift you backwards off his lap.

“Wait!” You resist the pull, sliding forward again until the folds of your cunt rest against his cock, his hissed intake of breath sending your heart rate skyward. Hands braced on his chest now, you place your forehead against his. “Please, I want- fuck, Alastor, please…”

His grip tightens, tilting and lifting you enough that the tip of his cock presses insistently at your entrance. And fuck, you knew he was strong- he had to be, with the ease that he lifted the others, men entirely comprised of dense muscle, onto the hooks; how deep his slices cut with one swing; how easy it was for him to bust pallets and walls and fuck up your generators- but the demonstration of it now as he prepares to fuck you shoots arousal into your bloodstream, sharp and dangerous while he merely holds you aloft like its nothing, the drip of your arousal coating him where you hover in his grasp. “Go on,” he whispers, his lips brushing tantalizingly against yours. “Let me taste what you sound like needing me.” 

So you plead- you let the words fall from your lips like a prayer, to him, to the Entity, begging for release, for the pleasure that he’s promised you as a reprieve from the usual torture of these realms. “Please fuck me, please, Alastor, I need it- oh God, yes…” Your words dissolve into a drawn out whimper of his name as he pulls you down, sinking you onto his cock with such steady pressure that your limbs tingle with the feeling of being so perfectly filled. Your moans echo in the empty halls of the police department, no one to hear you as you settle fully into his lap, his length reaching deep inside you and brushing against that soft sweet spot that many back home struggled to hit with any accuracy. He stills and allows you to adjust to him, claws still gripping the plush skin of your thighs while you breath deeply and force yourself to move slow to start.

Alastor exhales harshly through his nose when you rock your hips against him, a slow grind that has his cock dragging deliciously against your inner walls. The way he’s watching you, the feeling of his tight grip against your skin- it’s all such a contrast to the feelings you’ve been plagued with since the Entity abducted you. There’s still a tinge of fear but with it- burning, glorious pleasure, anticipation that grows in your gut along with the distant ache of an approaching orgasm, the satisfaction of a curiosity being sated. You use the little leverage to have to lift up a couple inches off his cock before rocking back down, a desperate whine escaping you when he bucks his hips to meet your thrust. You establish a rhythm, slow and firm with the pressure exactly where you need it even without a hand between your bodies to rub at your clit. You were sure if you snaked a hand down now it would be over, cumming in Alastor’s lap as many times as you could manage before he finally finished himself. But you were in no rush- you could stay like this forever, you think deliriously, riding this demon’s cock without a single thought to the world outside this room, the dangers of the Entity’s realm that normally lurk around every corner.

Like she can hear the thought as it enters your head, a bell rings out- the world shakes around you as the end-trial timer starts again, shadows that are different from Alastor’s growing up the walls and dismantling the realm at the seams.

“Oh dear,” Alastor says, his hands tightening their grip on your body even as he ceases his thrusting. “It would appear that we now have a time limit, darling. Perhaps you’d better run along now- we wouldn’t want you to get caught in the Entity’s clutches, would we?”

He knows as well as you do what happens when the timer runs out- dark spikes that emerge from the ground to spear the unfortunate survivor that took a second too long in finding the hatch or opening the gate, like the Entity was throwing a tantrum at them not playing her game the way she wanted. And he’s not wrong- if you had any sense of self-preservation you would climb out of his lap and stumble with your weak legs back towards where you had heard the hatch earlier. Fuck, you wouldn’t even still be here if you had any true survival instincts, because where was the logic in staying in a confined space with who was, despite his honeyed voice and thick cock, a confirmed killer?

You didn’t want to risk being caught when the timer ran out, impaled in a far less pleasurable way than you currently were- but maybe the buzz of pleasure was making you a little careless in your decision making. You were so close to orgasm, you didn’t think it would take you long to get there.

He starts to lift you from his lap and you clench your inner walls in protest, stealing the groan from his lips with a fierce kiss. “No, wait- I have enough time, let me keep going.”

You feel him smile against your lips. “I admire your dedication, my dear, but time is fleeting- I’d hate for you to feel rushed, there’s always next time.”

That should sound promising, the knowledge that you can have this again, but instead it spurs you into action. “Fuck, no, need it now-” You rise up and slam back down onto him, your legs digging into the sides of the chair, your thighs straining with the effort you’re now exerting as you properly ride him, fast and sloppy. It’s desperate now, the need that you feel- as the world around you continues to shudder and quake you make quick work with your fingers, finally reaching between your bodies to slide your fingers through the slick of your arousal and rub at your clit, engorged and throbbing in your need. Alastor lets out a soft noise as your walls flutter around him in time with the flickering of the lights, cumming with a whine into his mouth as your body tenses in his grasp, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt in an imitation of his claws. Your vision goes dark- which might be an effect of the realm disintegrating, now that you think about it- and everything is crackling electricity and white-hot pleasure that drowns out everything but the sound of Alastor grunting as he continues to fuck up into your pliant body, soft and soaked in the remnants of your orgasm.

Black oozes down the walls surrounding you, the full collapse of the police department imminent as Alastor stands suddenly, tentacles sending papers and binders scattering so he can lay you across the desk, thrusting in time with the ringing of the bell. He bucks his hips once, twice, before spending himself with a couple long pulses, the last spilling across the bare skin of your pelvis as he pulls out.

You know that the collapse is going to happen now, that you wasted any chance you might have had of escaping in favor of cumming on Alastor’s cock, but you can’t bring yourself to care as Alastor pants softly, brushing your hair from your forehead and standing, helping you get your feet under you before he takes a step back. “Until next time, my dear,” he says, and before you can even inquire what he means there are cool, ghost-like hands wrapping around your ankles. A glance down reveals that in the chaos of the collapse Alastor had moved the pair of you- shifting through the shadows until you stood outside RCPD instead of the office you had been occupying, the hum of the hatch ignored despite being so close to you.

His shadow grins at you from the fading sidewalk and tugs hard, sending you sprawling through the hatch with Alastor’s glowing eyes watching you from above.

You land hard on your back beside the campfire, immediately swarmed by your friends- Nancy in particular is teary, worried about having left you alone with Alastor after she escaped. After covertly confirming that you were clothed- because thank God, showing up late would be one thing, but late and naked was another- you shoo them off with some fabricated story about Alastor chasing you away from the hatch whenever you got close.

Everyone’s minds at ease, you settle onto a log by the fire, Meg and Laurie on either side of you as they tell you about their own trials; no one else seems to notice the wispy shadow that lurks on the edge of the woods, or the way that it grins and winks before fading into the fog.

[idlecommotiony]

You know those times when you’re sitting in your room wasting away alone. Yeah, same.

[matchingbatbites]

i hold your hand in mine, dear

For @steddie-week Day 1: Secret Relationship AND Day 2: Hands

Rating: M || CW: temporary character death, brief description of minor dismemberment, unhealthy coping mechanisms || Divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Steve doesn't know why he did it.

It's just- It was beyond painful, the mere thought of leaving behind the love of his life - because that's what Eddie was, even if no one else knew. And he knew there was no way they'd be able to get him back up through a gate before El closed them off.

So while Robin helped Dustin hobble away and Nancy went out ahead of them, Steve took a chance to just. Grab a souvenir. Just something tangible to remind him that - even for just a short time - he had Eddie. They had something real.

He doesn't know why he chose to take Eddie's hand.

It was easier than expected; the knife he had was sharp enough that it sliced through skin and muscle quickly, it wedged between bone and split the joint of his wrist with ease.

The limb sat heavy in his pocket as they escaped that hellhole, as they got Dustin to the hospital to get his ankle checked out, as they reunited with their friends to talk about what happened.

Steve doesn't dare to even touch it until he gets home, until he's by himself. Waits until he's showered and cared for his own wounds before he grabs the jacket and finally pulls it free.

It should be concerning that his first instinct was to take Eddie's hand - specifically, his right hand. It's not the one usually covered in rings, but it's the one he usually touched Steve with - when he brushed a thumb over Steve's lips or cupped Steve's face in his palm.

It's the one he used whenever they held hands, always leaving Steve's own right hand free so he could still do things while they clung together.

Maybe that's why. Even with all of the stuff in Eddie's room, all of the physical mementos he could have taken for himself, Steve just couldn't live knowing he'd never hold Eddie's hand again.

The limb itself is a bit dirty, with grit and blood marring the skin, trapped under the edge of his nails. That doesn't stop him from bringing it to his lips, from pressing a gentle kiss to the tips of the fingers.

It's cold, and for some reason that's the thing that finally breaks Steve, that has him sobbing into the stillness of his room. All he can think about is the man that brought so much warmth and life to Steve's existence, laying cold and forsaken in that fucking wasteland.

That's the thought that follows him into sleep that night, that lives in the back of his mind for days. It makes him truly grateful for his morbid memento, that he's able to keep a piece of his love, able to give some of his own warmth as he holds Eddie's hand in his own.

Steve makes a habit of pulling it from the drawer every night and giving a soft kiss to fingertips that are slowly turning black. He never wonders why the fingers still bend so well, why it never smells like rot.

He doesn't even think about it until he's awoken one night by the sound of soft scratching.

It takes Steve a second to hone in on the source, everything in him on edge and ready to jump on any possible threat. But nothing else in the room shifts; there's only the gentle scraping sound continuing from his left.

He turns on the lamp and looks at his nightstand, heart pounding in his chest as he reaches over and slowly tugs the drawer open. The noise stops, and Steve just looks down at Eddie's hand.

It's not in the bandana he usually wraps it in - something he did end up pilfering from Eddie's room, along with a few shirts that he sleeps in.

It's just there, laying in the bottom of the mostly-empty drawer, innocent as anything.

Steve watches it for a moment, waiting - praying - before reaching out and just. Touching it. Just a gentle brush along the knuckles.

It flinches, and Steve gasps.

He picks the hand up and it writhes in his grip, like a feral creature attempting to escape a predator. It only makes him hold on tighter, until he's able to shift it and lace their fingers together, their favorite way of holding hands.

The hand freezes, and he gives it a gentle squeeze, can't help the soft "Eddie?" that escapes him. It squeezes back tightly, ink black fingertips pressing into his skin, and Steve knows.

Not the how or the why, but those are worries for the future. For now, he cradles Eddie's hand in his own as he lays back down, crying happy tears for once. Because it seems that, by some miracle, Eddie is alive.