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zarameraki · 30 days

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♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝘂𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲 ♡₊˚🥀₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 king x concubine 𖥔 lots of plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 normal form sukuna (sorry yall but next time ill do his big boy one) 𖥔 he only has eyes for you 𖥔 you're his darling 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 breeding (!!!!) 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 8.8k

: ̗̀➛ notes: this took a whole WEEK to edit. im so obsessed with this story. it's my favourite thing ive written because i love period movies and dramas and really got to challenge my writing skills to give it more a fantasy-esque element. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

The diligent hands of Lord Sukuna Ryomen’s palace attendants scrubbed away the grime that clung to every inch of your weary form. There were no traces of tears in your eyes, despite the discomfort of the cleansing process.

Perhaps it was the residue of gratitude for an escape from a foster family who saw fit to barter you away for a pittance to fuel their vices.

The water surrounding you had transformed into a murky haze, carrying away the evidence of your former life's hardships.

Yet, amidst this cleansing ritual, you couldn’t shake the puzzling thought of why the guards had singled you out from the other young women within the household. Uraume, the overseer of palace affairs, had arrived alongside them, their presence looming over the proceedings with an air of mystery.

That morning, you were subjected to abuse in front of everyone at the central market, longing for someone to stand up for you. And someone did. They offered you an escape from that hellhole and into a world of luxury.

You weren’t going to complain now that you had accepted this new fate of yours.

“Ya’ got too many scars, girl,” remarked one of the elderly attendants, gently assisting you out of the steaming bath, her hands wrapping a towel around your shivering form. “Our powders will struggle to conceal ’em all. How did ya’ come by such marks?”

“From my foster family,” you murmured, gaze fixed upon your toes as if they held the weight of your past. The plush carpet beneath your feet offered a small comfort, a luxury unfamiliar to your upbringing.

Memories of their harsh discipline flooded back—the blistering gravel underfoot as punishment for daring to voice dissent. It was a brutal introduction to a world where obedience was paramount.

“A wretched lot,” the attendant muttered sympathetically.

Enveloped in a silk robe, she led you into a chamber shared by a cohort of women, a realm far removed from the confines of your previous abode. Here, space was ample—the expanse excessive, with beds lining the walls and a high ceiling adorned with a single chandelier.

As you entered, a symphony of pretty faces and inquisitive gazes greeted you. Women of all colours and shapes reclined luxuriously in plain robes, their hair intricately braided or cascading freely down their backs. Conversations paused, curiosity piqued by your arrival, as all eyes turned to welcome you into their midst.

Beneath the weight of their scrutinising stares, you found yourself shrinking. These women, draped in silk and adorned with jewels, were the king's favoured concubines, a fact repeatedly emphasised during your journey to the palace and even in the fragrant confines of the bathhouse.

Every instinct urged you to rebel, to refuse to be just another ornament in the king’s harem, but you understood the value placed on purity by the monarch.

Unfortunately, your innocence had been cruelly stolen from you by your foster father, leaving you tarnished in body and spirit. Lord Sukuna would have no use for a damaged flower in his garden of perfection.

In truth, you couldn’t even imagine an image of his face in your mind. His Lordship remained a mystery to those beyond the palace walls.

“Here ya’ are.” The attendant guided you to your bed. “That vanity there’s yours to use.” She gestured toward the communal area by the window, where two other young women were preparing themselves. “Once your hair dries, one of my girls will assist ya’ in preparin’ for your audience with His Lordship.” Her touch was gentle as she caressed your cheek. “Rest assured, dear, ya’ safe now.”

You attempted a smile, though the effort seemed Herculean amidst your weariness.

As the attendant departed, her scolding to the rowdy girls fading into the background, you nestled into the comforting embrace of your soft bedding, ignoring the hushed criticisms trailing in your wake.

She’s feeble.

Her hair lacks refinement.

The king would never entertain a lowly pauper.

She’ll be gone by tomorrow.

Their words, like venomous serpents, slithered through the air.

Amidst their degradation, you succumbed to exhaustion.

But your slumber was interrupted by the bustling commotion of handmaidens assembling around you.

Disoriented and scarcely given a moment to collect your thoughts, you found yourself swiftly escorted to the vanity, where the clamour of girls jostling for space filled the air.

They manipulated your locks, weaving intricate patterns into your hair, fashioning a crown braid atop your head while allowing the remaining tresses to cascade freely down your back.

Meanwhile, other attendants removed your robe, their hands moving with practised efficiency as they anointed your skin with fragrant oils, infusing it with the delicate essence of lavender.

Between the flurry of activity, the whispers of your fellow concubines hung in the air like a veil of awe and trepidation. Their eyes were drawn to the scars marring your skin, as they speculated about how the king would perceive your imperfections as repulsive.

Good.

You craved precisely that outcome.

If the king recoiled at your sight, it meant he wouldn’t desire you to bear his heir. If the tales circulating in the town about his monstrous nature held any truth, then he’d likely offer you death as a reprieve—and you’d welcome it with open arms.

Before facing the king, you stole a glance at your reflection, the final moments of solitude before your fate was decided. The powder concealed the imperfections of your skin, rendering it smooth and flawless. Your cheeks and lips bore a muted hue reminiscent of crushed cherries. Delicate white blossoms adorned your hair, woven into your braids by nimble fingers.

As you stood, the other women adorned you in a robe of silky fabric, its floral pattern draping over your form, cinched at the waist to accentuate your curves. Barefoot, you followed them out, the chill of the floor beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth of anticipation and trepidation swirling within you.

“Good luck, pauper,” taunted one of the concubines, her voice dripping with disdain, echoed by a cacophony of mocking laughter.

Palms clammy with nerves, you shifted your gaze to the opulence of the palace corridors. Adorned with countless chandeliers and swathes of velvet drapery, they offered a stark contrast to the blooming back garden. Memories of tending to the earth and nurturing life back at your foster family’s home flooded your mind.

“Quickly now,” one of the maids urged, her voice tinged with urgency. “His Lordship detests tardiness.”

“I apologise.” You hastened your steps to keep pace with the group of attendants.

She halted before a grand set of double doors, guarded by imposing sentinels clad in formidable armour. With a flick of her wrist, the guards swung the doors open. She gently nudged you forward, and only as you crossed the threshold did the doors seal shut behind you.

You blinked, adjusting to the dimness within, scanning the chamber until your gaze alighted upon a pair of crimson glimmers opposite you. “My Lord?” You inclined your head and took hesitant steps toward the source of those fiery eyes.

“Come closer,” his command echoed through the chamber, sending a shiver down your spine. The low resonance of His Highness Sukuna Ryomen’s voice was unexpectedly rich and velvety. You had envisioned a voice tinged with age, but instead, it possessed a rough texture that awoken something within you.

With hesitant steps, you approached until you stood at the edge of his bed, your fingertips grazing the diaphanous curtains that enveloped him in a cocoon of privacy.

“Closer,” he urged, coaxing you to unveil the enigma lying beyond the veil.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you obeyed, parting the curtains and gracefully crawled onto the mattress. The silkiness of the sheets were a blatant contrast to the roughness of your foster house’s. A pang of guilt tugged at your conscience as you realized the irony of finding solace in this luxurious confinement of being his concubine.

“Enough.” His abrupt order halted your thoughts, drawing your attention back to the present moment.

As commanded, you obediently settled into your posture, folding your legs beneath you in the dimness. Within his shadowed realm, only the luminous crimson irises pierced through the gloom, studying you with an intensity that made your belly churn. Despite the curiosity burning within you, you restrained the impulse to voice your questions. Instead, you settled in the tranquillity that crowded the space between you.

“What is your name?” His inquiry cut through the hushed air.

“Y/N, my Lord.”

As your name slipped from your lips, he captured it delicately, repeating it like a sacred prayer. Each syllable danced on his tongue, imprinting itself upon the very essence of his being. In that moment, you observed a subtle shift—the shadows that had cloaked the chamber seemed to dissipate.

A soft, golden luminescence filtered through the parted curtains, cascading across half of Sukuna’s face.

You blinked in astonishment.

He appeared . . . young?

The age difference between you and him was not a chasm of decades, but rather a modest gap of no less than five years.

Physically, at least.

His appearance was striking, with locks of hair dyed a subdued pink hue, contrasting with a streak of darker shade beneath. His hair was styled into rugged spikes, lending an air of defiance. Intricate black markings adorned his features, tracing a path from his cheekbones down to his chin, while similar patterns wove across his strong shoulder, cascading over his defined pectoral muscles and sculpted abdomen.

As your eyes fell upon him, your heart quickened its pace, each beat a vicious drumming against your ribs. Gone was the expectation of a lord showing the signs of wisdom, with wrinkles upon his brow and a body marked by the passage of time. Instead, before you stood a vision of breathtaking beauty, defying your preconceived notions and leaving you breathless in awe.

With a graceful gesture, he swept aside the curtains, allowing them to unveil his entirety.

The same markings mirrored the other side of his face and cascaded down the length of his body, a mesmerising display of symmetry. Dark bands encircled his wrists, and his nails bore the same deep hue.

Poised against the headboard, he reclined with an air of effortless elegance, one knee raised as his elbow found a comfortable perch, while the other leg extended out. Though he was unclothed, a veil of silk sheets cloaked the lower half of his form.

“Remarkable,” you unknowingly whispered. Your hand clapped over your mouth. “I apologise, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s lips curved into a sinister grin, his flawless teeth gleaming in the golden light. While many would flee at the sight, you remained rooted in place, unable to tear your gaze away. A delicate flush spread across your cheeks, betraying the undeniable attraction simmering between your legs. He was absolutely divine, and the path of being his concubine suddenly didn’t seem so terrible.

Yet, the reality of sharing Sukuna with ten other women loomed over your thoughts like a shadow. The thought of him spreading his affections among so many others kindled a small flame of jealousy within you, mingled with confusion. Why hadn’t he impregnated at least one of them with the promise of an heir?

“Have you not been schooled in the art of lowering your gaze in the presence of nobility, Y/N?”

Your lashes fluttered as you registered your lapse in decorum, hastily averting your gaze. “Forgive me, my Lord, if my oversight has caused offence.” Surely, he wouldn’t punish you for a momentary lapse of admiration.

Would he?

A gentle touch beneath your chin guided your face upward. His fingers spread across your cheek, the warmth nearly forcing you to curve into his touch. Despite the temptation, your eyes remained obediently downward.

“Look at me.”

Your gaze lingered on him, tracing the delicate patterns etched over his cheek, the fiery hue of his irises, the elegant contour of his nose, and the soft curvature of his lips. Never before had you felt such a rousing desire towards any man. Yet fate had chosen to ensnare your heart with the one most forbidden to you.

“You bear a sadness that weighs heavily in your eyes,” he noted softly, his hand descending to the curve of your neck, his thumb caressing the frantic rhythm of your pulse. A low, melodic sound produced from his throat. “Tell me, my love, does the face before you stir fear within your heart?”

“It does not, my Lord. The fear of your appearance holds no dominion over me,” you declared with quiet resolve. “You’re quite . . . beautiful.”

Sukuna’s gaze sparked with a mixture of surprise and intrigue at your response.

Suppressing a nervous gulp, you silently reprimanded yourself for speaking so boldly to one of noble rank. Back in the confines of your former life, such defiance would have earned you swift punishment, yet here, in the presence of royalty, it could lead to your demise.

As you prepared to avert your gaze, ready to accept whatever consequences may come, Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense air before you could retreat.

“Don’t.”

In that moment, you found yourself questioning your instincts.

Why did you not cower in fear? Why did your body not tremble in the presence of a man who had slaughtered the lives of his enemies without hesitation? And most perplexing of all, how could you maintain unwavering eye contact with a figure of such formidable power?

“Remove your robe.” His grip remained firm around your throat, his thumb delicately tracing your pulse. “And do not stray your gaze elsewhere.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Your fingers loosened the fabric’s bindings, allowing it to cascade down your frame. The robe slipped from your shoulders, revealing the soft curvature of your form beneath. As it pooled around your lap, your breasts stood exposed to his scrutiny.

A shiver danced across your skin as his eyes traced the contours of your body, a faint smirk teasing his lips.

He brushed back strands of your hair, his touch trailing down your vertebrate. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, brows knitted together in contemplation, fingers repeatedly tracing the ridges of your scars.

“Turn around.”

The dreaded discovery that sent ripples of revulsion through the concubines had finally come to pass. Your scars lay exposed before the gaze of a powerful lord. Not only would he slit your throat, but also those of the maids who had tended to your needs, and perhaps even Uruame, who had brokered your purchase from the bastards responsible for your imperfections.

“Never before have I been compelled to repeat myself for a concubine.” His voice carried a lethal edge as he increased his grip around your throat. “Turn the fuck around.”

Your compliance came in slow, measured movements as you turned away, presenting your back to him in a gesture of submission. His hands gathered the strands of your hair, lifting them aside to reveal the raw truth etched into your skin. His fingers traced the jagged remnants of whip lashes, the seared imprints of cigars, and the cruel reminders of knife wounds inflicted by a foster father turned tormentor.

Silent tears traced a path down your cheeks, as you sat in a state of numbness, your gaze fixed upon the closed door of Sukuna’s chamber.

A tender sensation, soft and moist, grazed your back, prompting a reflexive twitch in your left shoulder.

Turning slightly, you beheld Sukuna pressing his lips against the scar that marred your shoulder blades.

“My Lord—”

“I did not ask you to speak,” he murmured over your skin, sending a tremor through your frame. “Rise onto your knees.”

Obeying his command, you ascended onto your knees, feeling the weight of his hands settle upon your waist. His lips trailed a path of reverence, bestowing kisses upon each mark that scarred your skin, from your marrow to your nape.

Your breath caught in a delicate dance of exhales, a whispered symphony escaping your parted lips. The wet caress of his tongue sent ripples of sensation coursing through your being.

His arm circled your waist, drawing you into the sanctuary of his embrace. A fleeting kiss graced the nape of your neck, followed by the suction of his lips upon the tender side of your neck. His soft hands possessively held the curve of your breasts, cradling their weight.

Your head reclined against his strong shoulder.

With his gaze fixed upon you, his lips glistened with a hint of moisture, while his crimson eyes locked onto your own human-like ones. You dared not divert your gaze as he previously ordered. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, sending lightning strikes through your frame.

Unlike the non-consensual encounter of the past, there was no hint of agony; only a tantalising blend of pleasure that left you breathless, without a protest or helpless whimper. Instead, a sigh of pure rapture escaped your lips, encompassing your body in an embrace.

Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as if he had stumbled upon a long-sought treasure.

His fingertips skated down your torso, gliding toward your centre. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth. Holding his gaze became a daunting challenge as he skillfully teased your sensitive nub, causing your breath to quicken and your chest to rise and fall with each exhilarating sensation.

Sukuna slid his middle finger into you. “You’re incredibly tight, Sad Eyes,” he murmured, the endearment he had bestowed upon you almost provoking a smile. His lips grazed your ear as he continued. “Perhaps I should stretch you out”—he pushed in his ring finger, forcing a sharp gasp to tear from your throat and an involuntary arch of your body against his chest—“so that your cunt is able to welcome my cock.”

You stifled the knot rising in your throat as Sukuna plunged his fingers into you. Such profound bliss seemed inconceivable with mere digits alone.

“My Lord.” Your breath caught as he increased his tempo. “My—” Each thrust intensified the knot in your stomach, threatening to unravel you entirely. You teetered on the brink, dangerously close to staining his fingers with your release. A sharp gasp choked out of you as he struck a wondrous chord deep within. “Please, my Lord. I beg of you—I will soil your hand if you persist—” But your plea dissolved into a cry of ecstasy before you could utter another word.

Sukuna’s laughter danced teasingly in the hollow of your ear, leaving you utterly spellbound.

You were overheated, overstimulated, overridden by the explosive undoing of his fingers. Breathless and consumed by lust, your world spun as he seized your jaw and crushed his lips to yours.

In that electrifying moment, his tongue invaded your mouth, initially startling you, yet you surrendered to the rhythm.

Sukuna leaned back slightly after planting a tender peck on your lips. Exhaling softly, he threaded his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As his lips met yours once more, gentler this time, your hand ventured to trace the contours of his adorned chest.

“You are quite the vixen.” A playful glint danced in his eyes. “How valiant of you to seduce a lord into bestowing kisses upon his concubine.” A broad smile graced his lips, leaving you uncertain whether his words were playful jest or genuine admiration.

“Do you not bestow your kisses upon all your concubines, my Lord?”

“I do not pleasure their cunts, either.”

His speech carried the brashness of a tempest, a departure from the expected decorum one associated with royalty. Sukuna Ryomen defied conventions. It was a trait uncommon among lords, yet one that intrigued you deeply. His demeanour, both in battle and in the intimate confines of the bedchamber, lacked the softening. But you found yourself drawn to his unfiltered honesty, appreciating the absence of cryptic speech.

As you sat before him, considering your next words carefully, a surge of courage emboldened you to reveal your truth.

“My Lord,” you began, your voice quivering with uncertainty, “I . . . I am not pure.”

“Given the sounds you were drawing out,” he quipped with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t have surmised otherwise.” He assisted you in rising from where you rested against his chest, positioning you before him. Observing your solemn expression, he arched an eyebrow in curiosity. “Was your satisfaction not fulfilled?”

“Indeed, my Lord, it surpassed any expectation,” you confessed, worrying your lip as he sighed impatiently. “But I must disclose . . . I am not chaste.”

Sukuna’s response was subdued, save for the faint twitch in his jaw. He averted his gaze from yours momentarily, reaching for the decanter on his bedside table and pouring himself a measure of spirits.

“Speak,” he instructed, his tone clipped.

“It occurred before I reached maturity,” you murmured softly, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself. “My foster father—” Your words faltered as Sukuna raised a hand, a silent acknowledgment of his comprehension of your unspoken anguish.

“I need not hear more.” He swiftly consumed the crimson liquid in a single gulp. “You are dismissed for the night.”

“But my Lord’s desires remain unmet—”

“Leave,” he commanded, his tone final and unwavering.

With a gulp, you hastily gathered your robe around your form, delicately extricating yourself from his expansive bed.

Just as you thought to retreat, a firm hand seized your wrist, drawing you back into Sukuna’s embrace. His lips melded with yours in an intoxicating kiss, causing both your gazes to flutter open when he pulled away. A faint smirk played upon his lips as he adjusted the robe over your shoulder.

“Next time,” he murmured, plucking a flower from the adornments in your hair and placing it upon his bedside, “you shall grace my chambers without such distracting embellishments upon yourself.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” you replied with a respectful bow of your head, awaiting his dismissal until he gestured for you to depart with a casual wave of his hand.

In the shared chambers, your fellow concubines swirled around your bed, eager to hear of your inaugural encounter with Lord Sukuna.

Each girl shared their own vivid tales, painting scenes of ecstasy under the cloak of darkness, where the king’s touch invoked sensations akin to celestial bodies colliding, or where unfamiliar pleasures erased the boundaries of their throat—whatever that latter entailed.

Though a twinge of jealousy flickered within you, it was swiftly overshadowed by a swell of pride. The concubines pleasured Sukuna in darkness, the same darkness you had willingly entered, before his touch had set ablaze a world of gold for you.

They were merely beautiful means of physical gratification for their lord, devoid of the intimacy you shared—his fingers delving deep into your core. And never had any of them spoken of kisses exchanged. Sukuna had spoken true when you questioned if others received similar treatment.

But why you?

Why, after a mere span of ten hours within the palace walls, did you find yourself, dare you entertain the notion, as his favoured? What magic did you possess that drew him to you, and how had you managed to seduce his lips, his fingers, to meet yours in such an intimate embrace?

“Did he spend himself inside you?” one of the girls whispered, prodding your knee to rouse you from your silence.

“No.”

“Aye, he never does,” remarked a golden-haired girl with a resigned sigh. “He sees to it that we consume some berries afterward, claiming they prevent conception. Strange, isn’t it? Especially if he’s so eager for an heir.”

Another girl hushed her, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone. “Did he take you from behind? That’s his favoured position, you know. He’s had us all that way.”

You stumbled over your words, unsure how to respond.

“And did you savour his taste?” came the next question. “It’s quite rich in sodium—”

“Girls!” A booming voice echoed from the doorway of the bedroom, startling you and the other concubines into immediate attention. You caught sight of the elderly attendant who oversaw your care, hands planted firmly on her hips as she observed the chaotic scene before her.

With a disapproving huff, she pivoted sharply on her heel and departed, leaving a lingering sense of reprimand in her wake.

As the frenzied chatter about Sukuna’s body attributes gradually dissolved into the quietude of sleep, morning arrived with its routine of communal showerings.

Throughout the shared bath, you silently scrubbed away the remnants of the night, indulging your fellow concubines about your previous life in town.

Upon drying off and exiting the bathing chamber, you were met with an unexpected sight: a gathering of the girls clustered around your bed.

Navigating through the throng, you reached your space to discover a resplendent scarlet silk robe embroidered with intricate black floral patterns.

Gingerly lifting the note placed atop the fabric, you read Sukuna’s precise handwriting. Curious glances from the other concubines peered over your shoulders in anticipation.

No distracting embellishments, Sad Eyes.

“What does that mean?” a curious whisper floated through the air, followed by murmurs of intrigue from the other girls. “Why does he call you ‘sad eyes’?”

You clutched the letter to your chest, suppressing a grin as you ignored the questions, the mockery, and the jostling of bodies around you. Your attention was fixated on the magnificent robe gifted to you by His Lordship.

For the remainder of the evening, you slept without any interruptions, seeking to compensate for the countless nights spent battling insomnia within the confines of your foster home.

You observed with a keen eye that none of the other girls were ushered to Sukuna’s chambers; their time seemed to veer toward strolls in the back garden or spent in the dormitory, indulging in wine-fueled scandals about the palace staff, as was their custom.

As the clock struck eight in the evening, a troupe of maids entered the chamber bearing dinner trays. A wave of anticipation swept through the room as the other girls eagerly accepted their meals and accompanying pitchers of water. Your own stomach rumbled in hunger, awaiting your own turn.

But that moment never arrived.

Instead, the maid bypassed your bed entirely, moving on to the next. A surge of apprehension rippled through you as a handmaiden approached, guiding you away from the mattress and toward the vanity.

“What about my dinner?” you asked as the attendants groomed your hair.

“His Lordship has extended an invitation for you to dine with him tonight,” came the reply.

The room fell into a sudden hush.

Dine with him?

The notion sent a flurry of thoughts racing through your mind.

Before you could process further, you found yourself pulled upright, your garments removed to be replaced by the scarlet robe.

Envy flickered in the eyes of the other concubines as they observed, their resentment palpable as they stabbed at their food with exaggerated aggression. It wasn’t your doing that Sukuna had taken an unexpected interest in you.

With no adornments save for a dab of crushed cherry paste upon your lips, you were escorted to Sukuna’s chambers.

Once more, the imposing doors swung open, and you found yourself gently ushered into the chamber. As they sealed shut behind you, the room was flooded with light. Sukuna’s figure stared out at the moonlit gardens outside, clad in a billowing white silk robe.

“My Lord,” you greeted respectfully, inclining your head in deference.

“Draw near.”

Complying with his directive, you approached and stood at his side. His presence loomed over you, his stature commanding and formidable, capable of engulfing you entirely with a single embrace. Not that such thoughts dared to linger in your mind.

“Why is your face flushed?” he asked, his gaze penetrating.

You blinked, attempting to dismiss the telltale warmth creeping up your cheeks. “It’s nothing, my Lo—”

Before you could finish, Sukuna turned your chin towards him, his palm coming to rest against your forehead. A nervous swallow traced its way down your throat at his touch, his eyes trailing down your form, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as they settled upon you in your robe.

“Thank you for your gracious gift,” you murmured, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks.

His fingers trailed through your hair, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes. “I anticipate nothing less than thoroughly enjoying the privilege of removing it off of you.”

You blushed deeper at his statement.

“Come now. I’ve brought a surprise for you.” He took your hand in his with a tug, guiding you towards a doorway. With a simple flick of his fingers, the door parted, revealing a dimly lit hallway beyond.

Your gaze widened in astonishment. “How did you do that, my Lord?”

“Do what?”

“You opened the door without laying a hand on it.”

Sukuna’s striking blood-coloured eyes cut to you. “There is much about me that will be unveiled in due course, my love. What you perceive is but a guise for my true nature.” His smile, oddly childlike, sent a chill down your spine.

Was he some sort of sorcerer? You’d only heard whispers of human anomalies lurking beneath the earth’s surface or sealed within vessels, but historical accounts weren't exactly your cup of tea.

“I ventured into town today,” he said.

“Oh.” You swallowed hard, recovering from his previous statement. “I hope it was a fruitful trip.”

“Indeed, quite fruitful.”

In the soft glow of the distant hallway, Sukuna’s face came into view, casting a spell of trepidation upon your heart. His features were drawn into a mask of stoicism, his eyes devoid of warmth, and his lips pressed into a firm line, jaw rigid with tension.

Parting the curtains, Sukuna drew you near, his arm sweeping out to reveal a horrifying sight: your foster father, bound to a chair with chains, bearing the cruel marks of torture.

His face marred by countless wounds, an eye cruelly absent, and teeth scattered at his feet. His dignity stripped away, his vulnerability laid bare in his nakedness, and his manhood amputated.

The sickening lurch in your stomach threatened to betray your composure. “F-Forgive my intrusion, my Lord, but is he . . . is he dead?”

Sukuna’s response was a gilded dagger from within his robe, its handle decorated with a jewel reminiscent of your own captivating eyes. Nestled within the hilt was the very flower he had plucked from your hair. Upon the blade, your name was inscribed.

“Do as you wish, my beloved,” he whispered, his voice stained with dark fascination, offering you the instrument of your foster father’s fate with a chilling sense of detachment.

You couldn’t possibly bring yourself to commit such a heinous act.

Despite the unspeakable cruelties inflicted upon you by the bastard, the idea of taking another’s life filled you with a trembling dread.

Yet, the itch to end the torment, to rid the world of such a vile presence, simmered just beneath the surface as you stood before him, his life slipping away.

A hand trailed down the back of your head, guiding your trembling fingers to grasp the dagger tightly.

Looking up, you met Sukuna’s gaze, his expression hollow, his features obscured by shadows. This was the face of the Devil that cursed his enemies on their knees and had them willingly submit to death.

With a push from behind, you stumbled forward, drawing closer to your step-father’s prone form.

Glancing back at Sukuna, you were met with an incongruously bright smile. Quite a twisted paradox, His Lordship.

Your step-father sat unconscious, the stench of his bodily fluids assaulting your senses. His wounds oozed with a sickening mixture of blood and pus, his laboured breaths the only indication of life remaining within him. The scene was painfully familiar, a mirror image of the torment you had endured countless times before.

But now, someone had intervened, offering you a chance at liberation, a chance to end the cycle of abuse once and for all.

You glanced back again.

Until Sukuna.

Your gaze reluctantly returned to the true embodiment of cruelty before you. With a steady hand, you raised your arm, wielding the dagger with purpose.

It found its mark in your foster-father’s chest, a chilling silence punctuated only by the sound of steel meeting flesh. Ignoring the strangled cry that erupted from him, you withdrew the blade, then drove it back into his heart.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

His lifeblood painted your face and stained your pristine garments, mingling with the fabric in a macabre dance of crimson. To the untrained eye, it could easily be mistaken for a mere splash of vibrant colour upon your robe.

No one would dare suspect the truth.

No one would dare come near if they knew of your sin.

No one, except Sukuna.

Once the monster over your bed was consigned to the depths of hell, his guts spilling onto the floor around your bare feet, you allowed yourself a moment of grim satisfaction.

With a contemptuous snarl, you spat upon him, a visceral response to the years of degradation he had inflicted upon you for every misstep.

A comforting warmth touched your back.

Startled by the sudden contact, you tensed before easing at the sight of Sukuna’s faint smile.

As he reached to caress your cheek, you instinctively recoiled, lowering your gaze in deference.

“Forgive me, my Lord,” you murmured, “but I cannot permit you to spoil your hands with the blood of this man.”

Sukuna’s shoes entered your line of sight as he tilted your chin upward, his moon-white sleeve wiping away the traces of blood from your mouth and its vicinity. “You appear rather exquisite painted in blood, Sad Eyes. Perhaps I ought to designate you as my prized assassin instead of a mere concubine.”

“I beg your pardon, my Lord, but I cannot partake in killing . . . again.”

“You need not worry,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he drew near. “I will defend you from any who cast their gaze upon you, let alone lay a hand upon your delicate form. Those who dare cross that line will face my wrath, their very existence extinguished before your eyes. Not a single tear shall stain your cheeks.” His lips brushed against yours. “From this moment forward, fear shall not reside within you. By my side, you shall command fear itself, my love.”

That night, Sukuna bathed you in the sanctuary of his chambers, washing away the traces of blood from your skin as you gazed at him with a sense of wonder. It wasn’t the superficial admiration the other concubines whispered about—it was a profound affection blossoming within you, nurtured by power and protection.

He draped you in the luxurious folds of one of his silk robes, summoning servants to prepare dinner. Seated upon his lap, he fed you spoonfuls of rice and chicken, even as your stomach protested its fullness. Soft kisses peppered your neck like a sweet dessert, culminating in one upon your lips before he reluctantly released you to retire to your dormitory.

In the ensuing weeks, Sukuna would consistently send a crafted robe ahead of each meeting—in the serene seclusion of his chambers, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows upon the walls as you dined together.

Over the course of these intimate dinners, he eagerly absorbed your musings, whether they revolved around the narratives of books discovered within the palace library or your adeptness with herbs and plants, nurtured by your profound knowledge.

On occasion, as the first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, Sukuna would summon you for a stroll in the haven of the back garden. Woven between the fragrant blooms, you’d dance about with childlike enthusiasm, identifying various flowers and tracing their lineage.

Ever the attentive listener, Sukuna trailed behind you, his gaze fixed upon your animated figure. He would only speak when you fell silent, demanding you to continue sharing the familial ties between apples, plums, and the roses they stemmed from.

Within the crevice of your soul, the once withered garden of affection had flourished into a lush wilderness, blossoming with untamed wildflowers and clouds that spelled out his name.

Sukuna inhabited your every waking thought, his intoxicating mouth that worshipped your body left you giggling in delight behind your hands.

Yet, each encounter with a fellow concubine, flushed and eager with tales of their rendezvous with him, felt like thorns piercing your tender heart. Jealousy, like ivy creeping upon stone, entwined itself around your every plagued thought. Your gaze often strayed to the bedside drawer where the dagger lay dormant. The mere mention of his physique by the other women tormented your soul relentlessly.

Why hadn’t Sukuna taken you as he had with every other concubine? You had grown accustomed to his presence, even eager to reciprocate the pleasure he gifted you every evening. You had offered yourself willingly, aching for the intimacy that would bind you even closer to him. But he had not claimed you in the same manner, not entered you fully, not seeded his legacy within you.

Did he question your worthiness? Did he see you merely as a transient pleasure? Were you destined to remain just a concubine, forever denied the honour of carrying his child?

“Why do you remain silent?” Sukuna asked, turning the pages of the book you had suggested to him; he was already half-way through.

You were seated snugly between his legs upon the bed, your back rested against his chest, fingers idly toying with the strands of your hair. “I find myself devoid of words this evening.”

“Hmm.” Sukuna took a leisurely sip of his drink before placing it aside. “Surely you can conjure something. You know well enough that I cannot endure your silence.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rolled your eyes. “Well, I apologise for failing to provide you with amusement, my Lord.”

Sukuna snapped the book shut.

You instinctively pressed your lips together, silently chiding yourself for the unintended sharpness in your voice.

With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to maintaining your composure, forcing yourself to take slow, steady breaths. Deep down, you believed that he wouldn’t inflict harm upon you or cast you out of his chambers. But the nagging thought chewed at you.

This was Sukuna Ryomen, and you . . . well, you were merely a shadow in comparison.

“If you crave my touch,” he breathed softly into your ear, “all you need to do is utter the request.”

With a determined resolve, you turned to face him, settling yourself upon his lap. Sukuna regarded you with a quirked eyebrow, a quiet acknowledgment of your unconventional audacity.

“I do crave your touch, my Lord,” you confessed, your voice a hushed plea, “but not only with your hands or lips. I long to feel you in a different manner.” Your gaze drifted down to his pelvis, the unspoken appetite evident in your eyes. “I crave that.”

Sukuna exhaled heavily, his gaze piercing as he addressed you. “So, you’ve been withholding your words simply because I haven’t fed you my cock?"

Heat rose to your cheeks at his blunt proclamation, though you had grown accustomed to his coarse mannerisms over time.

“Yes, my . . . Lord.” Your voice carried a mixture of embarrassment. “I’ve endured three long months of anticipation, patiently waiting to share in the pleasures enjoyed by your other consorts. Yet, with the arrival of autumn, I find myself still untouched by the experiences they so openly boast about.”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Are you asking me to bed you merely for the purpose of becoming a notch in your bragging rights?”

“Never, my Lord!” you protested vehemently, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes. “I would never demean you with such vulgar talk in public. I’ve spun tales to the others, concealing the truth of our encounters. They remain oblivious to the pleasures you’ve granted me.” Your fingers traced the intricate markings on his chiselled abdominal muscles. “If my spoiled state displeases you, if I am deemed unworthy of your touch, pray, inform me now. Regardless, my sole wish is to fulfil His Lordship’s needs.”

Sukuna disentangled your hands from his chest, a gesture that caused a fissure to form within your heart, forcing your body to instinctively withdraw from his touch.

Just as you began to pull away, he swiftly encircled his arm around your waist, tugging you back onto his lap with a firm grip. Before you could utter a single word, his lips descended upon yours, silencing any protest with a passionate kiss.

With a purposeful touch, he skillfully divested you of your robe, revealing the curves of your form beneath. His hands, warm and adept, began to massage your supple breasts, kindling soft gasps from your lips. His own trailed a wet path downward, leaving a bridge of feverish kisses along the expanse of your throat, lingering over the rapid pulse beneath your skin.

As his lips found purchase on the tender flesh of your neck, his actions became more urgent, his touch more demanding. A pinch at your pebbled nipples sent a shiver of sensation coursing through you, followed by the heat of an open-mouthed kiss.

Your gaze drifted downwards, enchanted by the sight of his tongue encircling the sensitive spots, suckling on the swollen buds like a babe. Already, heat was building within the depths of your being, igniting a flame that spread between your legs.

Sukuna laid you back, relishing the delicate flavour of your lips as his fingers skillfully sought out your throbbing clit, stimulating it with unhurried circles.

With practised ease, he slipped two fingers inside you, quickening his rhythm without preamble. Your hand instinctively traced down to his chest, undoing the fastenings of his robe.

“Take it,” he whispered against your mouth, his breath mingling with yours. “Satisfy your lord, my love.”

Your fingers curled around his pulsating cock, the very object of desire that the other girls had passionately recounted. The knowledge of their previous intimacies with him only stoked the flames of envy within you, spurring you to intensify your ministrations.

With a surge of determination, you quickened the pace of your caresses, applying pressure with your thumb upon his sensitive tip while fondling his sacs.

Sukuna’s grin widened against your lips as he reciprocated with equal zeal, slipping a third finger into your slick heat until he was fully engulfed by your swollen core.

Together, you sailed upon the waves of raw carnal desire, locked in a lecherous race to reach your climax, each vying to be the first to cross the finish line—

Sukuna’s low, guttural moans resonated throughout the chamber.

You had achieved victory.

His essence spilled forth into your waiting hands, his cock convulsing with the intensity of his release. Moments later, you succumbed to your own climax, a soft cry escaping your lips.

With care, Sukuna withdrew his hand from your centre, and you instinctively examined your palm, noting the striking resemblance of his essence to your own.

You tentatively brought your fingers to your lips, savouring the taste of him.

“I did not instruct you to do that,” he growled, his gaze blazing as you tasted him. “But I suppose I’ll permit it.”

“It is salty,” you murmured, almost absentmindedly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, are you women incapable of discussing anything besides my cock?” he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating as he cleaned his fingers with his tongue before tenderly cradling the back of your head, drawing you to sit upon his lap. Your laughter softened into chuckles, a smile playing upon your lips.

“Did I please you, my Lo—”

“Sukuna,” he interrupted firmly. “Only you may address me by my given name.”

“My L—”

“I command it.” His tone left no room for argument.

You affirmed your agreement with a nod.

He was Sukuna.

Your Sukuna.

“Very well, Sukuna.” You felt a subtle shift in the air between you. His chuckle rumbled softly. “Shall I turn around for you?”

“And why do you deem such an unnecessary act necessary?”

“Because—” You suppressed the urge to divulge the whispers of the other concubines regarding his favoured position. “Never mind. How would you prefer me to present myself to you?”

“As you are,” Sukuna answered, his grip tightening around himself. “How you managed to have me spend by your hand in under five minutes is a marvel beyond my comprehension.”

Internally, you gave yourself a congratulatory pat on the back.

“Now, my love,” he said, inclining his chin towards his erection, “will you do my cock the honour of sitting on it?”

Licking the grin of your lips, you nodded, rising to your knees. With nimble fingers, you positioned his hardened length at your entrance, gradually lowering yourself onto him.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Sukuna’s lips, his hands instinctively grasping your hips. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, enduring the initial sting of penetration. Perhaps every touch of his fingers had been a meticulous groundwork for this pinnacle moment.

As you settled into your seat upon him, you granted yourself a minute to acclimate to the sheer magnitude of him stretching and filling your tight, supple walls.

Sukuna tilted his head back, impatience evident in his eyes. “Will you begin moving at a pace befitting this century, Sad Eyes?”

“Just a moment,” you retorted, your tone tinged with irritation.

“Unfortunately, the sight of your leaking cunt is testing my patience,” he remarked, his gaze lingering provocatively on your flushed form.

Collecting yourself, you affirmed your resolve with a nod before subtly adjusting your position, and swaying your hips forward. His strong hands guided you, aiding your movements as you sought a rhythm. “Gods, you’re—you’re quite large. It’s rather discomforting.”

“Ah, where has the enthusiasm to please your lord vanished, my love?” His laughter echoes through the chamber as he leaned back, amused by your scowl. “I must confess, your defiance is perhaps your most alluring trait. It has crossed my mind more than once during moments of handling myself in the bath.”

Your brow furrowed in dismay.

It was evident that the other concubines possessed far greater expertise in pleasuring him than you ever could. All you could manage was to feign enthusiasm, your movements faltering and disjointed, as you struggled to produce even a fraction of the satisfaction they effortlessly blessed him with. His laughter, which wasn’t helping your cause, bore an uncanny resemblance to the mocking tones of the girls who had taunted you in the past.

You no longer wished to endure this charade.

You halted in your tracks, unable to muster the courage to meet his gaze, your eyes fixated instead on his throat. “It appears . . . that I may not be adequately versed in fulfilling your needs. I shall endeavour to educate myself further before making another attempt. For now, I request permission to retire for the evening, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s grip tightened as he seized your jaw, compelling you to meet his gaze. “You dare to defy my command to address me by my given name?” His smile remained wicked as he drew your face closer to his own. “Remember, my love, there is a boundary to which I tolerate your rebellion. Do not allow my affections to cloud your judgement. I remain your Lord, above all else. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you managed to gasp out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you replied, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

With a swift motion, he released your sore jaw, and before you could even consider easing the ache, his lips crashed against yours.

In that moment, control slipped from your grasp entirely. His hands gripped the flesh of your buttocks possessively, guiding your movements as he claimed you with a primal savageness that left you shaking in his embrace.

“Does it pain you, my beloved?” Sukuna growled, his fingers curling around your nape possessively. “Do you feel the strain of my cock as I breach your tender walls?”

You whimpered softly, your head nodding against the curve of his neck.

“Fear not, my darling. I will diligently train this cunt of yours to accommodate every inch of me, dusk, dawn, and twilight. Your throat, too, shall be honed to fulfil my every whim, wherever and whenever I demand.” With a swift motion, he tugged your hair, forcing you to meet his glare. “And should you dare to entertain thoughts of defiance with any other man beyond the confines of my chamber, rest assured, there will be consequences.”

“Sukuna,” was all you gasped, eyes rolling back as his tip probed the depths of your womb. His tongue traced the delicate curve of your throat before shoving into your mouth, drawing out your own to suckle on. In the heat of the moment, your hands roamed aimlessly, torn between grasping at his waist, clutching his shoulders, or caressing his cheeks.

“Oh, how I love the sight of your breasts greeting me in my face.” Sukuna tightened his hold on each of them with a deadly grasp, savouring the melodious cry that escaped your lips. He lowered his head and teethed each nipple, drawing it out and relishing in the masochism of your sharp nails clawing down his back. “Deeper, my darling. You alone hold the privilege of marking my flesh. Let my scars mirror yours.”

With caution, you shifted your hands to rest upon his firm pectoral muscles before you could accidentally claw out his spinal cord.

Sukuna’s touch drifted from your bruised breasts to cradle your face, guiding your gaze to meet his crimson one.

Encouraged by his comforting presence, you arched your hips forward with newfound confidence. His fingers swept through your hair, pushing it away as he offered reassuring nods.

Now, the reins rested firmly within your grasp.

“Fuck . . .” Leaning back against the headboard, he released soft sighs. Warm breaths escaped his parted lips as you continued increasing your ministrations. Your gaze momentarily flickered to your favourite book resting on his bedside table before returning to his face.

Suddenly seized by an impulse, you leaned forward to plant a tender kiss upon his lips, trailing upward to gently brush against his cheekbones, tracing the intricate markings lining his skin.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Someone must play the role of the tender one between us, Sukuna,” you answered, mirroring the attention he had given your scars during your initial encounter. With each kiss, you felt his eyes tracing your movements, following the path of your lips as they journeyed across his face, landing upon his nose or the pulse of his neck.

“My beloved,” Sukuna’s voice caressed your ears, drawing your focus entirely to him, “listen closely to my words.”

You halted your movements, a curious expression dancing in your eyes. “What troubles you?”

With a deliberate motion, he guided your hips forward, his gaze unwavering. “Throughout the night, I will fill your womb ceaselessly, and in mere weeks, you shall carry my legacy within you.” Your heart leaped into your throat, fluttering with an overwhelming rush of emotion. “Peril will shadow your every step. Those who oppose us will stop at nothing to eliminate your life and the life of our child. Do you comprehend the gravity of our situation?”

You blinked back the tears, resigning yourself to the inevitable.

“But I vow upon my honour, such an atrocity shall never come to pass. I will sever entire bloodlines if even a single strand of your precious hair were harmed.” His movements quickened as he thrusted into you.

Your grip tightened on his shoulders again, gasping for breath between erratic pants.

“At dawn’s light, all concubines shall be reassigned to palace duties. You need only point out those who have dared to trouble you, though their transgressions are already known to me.” His motions became more intense as he pressed you onto your back, pinning your arms above your head. “And when the sun graces the horizon, you, my beloved, shall be proclaimed as my queen.”

Your voice wailed through the chamber as you cried out his name, drowning in the waves of scorching pleasure never before experienced.

Instead of seeing celestial bodies colliding, your gaze met the deep crimson of his irises, those same eyes that had captivated you on that very first night.

“Sukuna . . . ”

With a smile mirroring his own, you tilted your head upward, silently beckoning him to seal the moment with a kiss. As he obliged, his cock pulsed within you, filling you with his warmth until every fibre of your being was tethered with his.

But he didn’t withdraw. Just as he had promised, he intended to keep you close throughout the night, to claim you as his own.

And in that moment, as you laid with him, you welcomed the dawn of a new chapter standing beside him, prepared to reign as Sukuna Ryomen’s queen.

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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months

Text

grumpy

words: 400

warnings: just rafe being grumpy and sleepy

you started spending every night in rafes bed very early on in your relationship. it wasn't just because you were both so wildly obsessed with each other's bodies, but also because rafe loved to hold you close while he slept, knowing his girl was safe in his arms, allowing him to actually rest.

therefore, you also learned early on that rafe was even grumpier than normal when he was tired.

“baby, just come to bed.” rafe grunted, sitting up underneath the covers as to not fall asleep yet, not until he has you next to him.

“im almost done.” you reply from the attached bathroom, applying your serum to your face, the second to last step in your skincare routine. rafe was usually patient, either waiting in bed or watching you carefully remove your makeup and cleanse.

“hurry up.” rafe complains, his voice whiney. “im tired.”

“go to sleep then silly.” you roll your eyes, using your nail to get moisturizer out of its tin before placing it on your face and carefully rubbing it in, always using upward motions.

you startle when you turn to enter the bedroom and rafe is standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a pout on his face. “you want me to sleep without you?”

“huh?” you question, placing your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them gently as his eyelids flutter, clearly struggling to keep them open.

“you said to fall asleep without you.” rafe says again. “i always sleep holding you.”

“i was going to lay down in like one minute, rafey. it wouldn't actually be without me.” you coo, getting on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. “let's go to sleep, yeah?”

“that's what i was trying to do.” rafe says, but lets you lead him into the bedroom. you lay down, watching rafe get under the covers before flicking the light off.

“come here.” rafe says, opening up his arms as you scooch closer.

“it's so cute how grumpy you get when you are tired.” you hum, pressing a kiss to rafes cheek before lowering your head to his chest, wrapping your arm over his waist.

“shut up.” rafe grunts, further showing off his grumpiness. you simply roll your eyes, knowing he doesn’t mean the harsh words as you throw a leg over his hips to get comfortable.

“y/n?” rafe whispers after a moment of silence.

“what is it baby?”

“i love you.”

you smile, tightening your arm around his waist in a hug. “i love you too, even when you’re grumpy.”

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bet-on-me-13 · 4 months

Text

Dan is Trigon

So! The Teen Titans had been chasing down a Cult lately, and they had finally managed to track down their main bases location.

Unfortunately, they got there just a bit too late and the Summoning Ritual they had been preforming was finished. The Being they had been calling crawled up and out of the Circle drawn in Blood on the floor.

And Raven felt her heart Stop. Because that Being crawling it's way out of the Summoning Circle looked almost exactly like her Father's True Form. But also different.

Where her Father's hair was a White Flame, this one's hair looked like Freshly Fallen Snow. Instead of her Father's Blood Red Skin, this being had Icy Blue Skin. And most strikingly, In place of her Father's Piercing Red Eyes, this being had Lazarus Green Eyes.

But even with all those changes, she could still the similarities in the Bone Structure, the shape of the Jaw, and most importantly the Untold Power radiating off of them.

Before they could react, the Being turned its attention to the Cultists.

"Who Dares Summon, the Ghost King?"

"We do, Out Lord Pariah Dark! We Beseech Thee, take this unclean world and tear it down! Cleanse the World of its Filth!"

"Oh Goddammit, not again." Said the Being, "Look, Pariah hasn't been in Power for Centuries. I, am Phantom. And I don't do the whole 'Destroy all Worlds' thing, you want your own constellation? I'm your guy. Otherwise? Bite it."

"Bu-But my Lord! We summoned you to-"

"Yeah how about no." Said the unimpressed God, "Here, let me send you guys Home. I'll give you guys some riches or something as compensation, but that's it."

And with that, the God snapped its fingers and the cultists disappeared.

"Now, who are you kids?" He turned to them.

Robin stepped forward, "We are the Teen Titans, and originally we came to stop them from Summoning you. Now, I honestly don't know what to do..."

"Oh, you guys are Heroes! That's interesting, I don't come across worlds with Heroes very often." Said the Ghost King, "The last one was the one with those Revengers or whatever they called themselves. The Spider Totem was fun to talk to, and Thor is always..."

As Phantom mumbled to himself, Raven stepped up. "King Phantom, I have a Question. Why do you resemble the true form or Trigon so closely? As his Daughter, I can recognize your similarities easily, and I was curious."

The King stopped dead.

"...daughter?"

"Oh, yes. Trigon is my father, though obviously I haven't talked to him recently." She explained.

"...that asshole." He said, "How could he not tell me I had a NIECE!?"

Wait what?

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sukunasteeth · 2 months

Text

Picking You Up From Work

Sukuna leans on the bumper of his Camaro, hoping a drop of rain doesn’t land perfectly on the tip of his cigarette and snuff it out. He’s pretending not to watch the front door of your workplace, like an anxious dog waiting for his owner to come home, but it’s ten minutes past the time you said you’d be out, and he was ready to take you to his apartment and settle down for the night. It had been a long day- he wanted to forget it in the taste of your whimpering on his tongue.

Customers pass him on their way into your workplace. Sukuna wonders briefly what has them whispering to each other and sneaking glances over at him: the nearly sixty year old car or the man covered in tattoos leaning against it?

Fifteen minutes pass before he checks his phone again. It was unlike you to be late, you knew Sukuna had a pet peeve of not being on time and, despite how hairbrained you were, he knew you tried to meet him halfway. Looking over his shoulder, he peeks at the flowers sitting on the passenger seat waiting for you. If he had known you'd be a minute, he would have put a splash of water in the bottom of the flower wrap holding the bouquet together. He clicks his tongue in disappointment, hoping they don’t wilt by the time you get to them.

“I’m sorry, I have to get going-” Your voice chimes through the sound of the rainfall like a cleansing bell, bringing Sukuna’s attention snapping back towards the exit of your work.

You're standing halfway between his car and the building, directly in the middle of the parking lot. A man dressed in a similar uniform to yours is standing a little too close to you for Sukuna’s comfort.

He flicks the ash off of the end of his cigarette and takes a drag.

“Are you sure?”

It’s been a long day.

“We could go get some coffee and just hangout for a bit-”

A really long day.

Granted: working customer service you expected long days. Grating days. Days in which you questioned your faith in humanity. But, that all usually ended when you clocked out for the night and headed home. You could easily forget all of it at the door. Tonight, however, the annoyance of having to save face continues.

You had been trying to give this guy a hint all day as he followed you around, desperate to catch your attention and doing anything to gain a brownie point. It was really starting to tick you off.

Not only that, you knew Sukuna was waiting for you somewhere in the parking lot and it was only a matter of time before this man was decapitated before your very eyes.

Dammit, you just wanted to go home.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I’ve got someone waiting for me. Have a good night!” You try to wave him off, offering a polite smile before you turn your back to him.

"Who's waiting for you?" Sam calls out, still not catching the hint.

Before you can reply, a hand reaches around your waist, securing you to a familiar side- but you've been on edge all day, just waiting for your coworker to make one bold wrong move. On instinct, you snatch the wrist at your hip with a deathgrip before realization is able to save you.

Your eyes whip up to meet Sukuna's smirking gaze, his smile flashing into that serpentine grin that makes your fight or flight mode go off.

"Ohoho-" He chuckles, and there’s a mischievous darkness lurking beneath it.

"'Kuna!" You ease your grip immediately, cradling his hand in sympathy. Part of you is instantly relieved he’s here to sweep you away, and the other part is sweating over how he’s going to handle this situation.

Sukuna could be a bit possessive.

"Good grip." He purrs, snatching up your own hand instead and continuing his original plan of tucking you securely into his side. "You turned your back to the scum bag, though." He tsks quietly. "My brat should know better."

Sukuna easily turns the both of you around, lifting you slightly to move without tripping you. You’re forced to face your coworker once again, although you notice that your unease has dissipated with Sukuna next to you now.

“Is this...? A-Are you guys…” Sam sneers at Sukuna's sudden appearance, his poorly shaven lip curling up in disgust.

Sukuna merely hums in response, “Every night while you’re wet dreamin’ about it.”

“S-Sukuna!” You interrupt, squeezing his fingers. Heat burns in your ears and you can feel them going pink under Sam’s now incredulous stare. “Is… my… yes.” You finish quietly, trying to avoid either one of the men watching you. Letting people into your personal life was not something you liked to do, even though you're sure your fiance would love it if you screamed it from the rooftops.

“Aw,” Sukuna makes a fond, sentimental noise and you press your elbow into his rib cage when you hear a mischievous lilt to his tone.

“You and this guy?” Sam gives Sukuna an obvious once over, crossing his gangly arms over his chest in disapproval. “He’s not even your type!”

Oh.

Maybe this guy deserved a good beating.

Even you were too afraid to look at your fiance at that moment, you could tell by the look on Sam’s face that Sukuna wasn’t happy.

The scariest part about Sukuna getting angry, was the lack of reaction. There was no glaring. No muscles going rigid. No shouting. There was only this overwhelming sense of danger, like a prey animal realizing it was about to meet its predator.

Sam tries to fix it, sensing the murderous intent hanging in the air, but his ego still tries to bite: “Look, dude, I don’t mean any harm. I just think she needs a gentleman.”

…

Now that piques your interest.

You need a gentleman?

You almost completely forget about Sukuna for a moment, your head snapping in your coworker's direction with breakneck speed.

“Gentleman?” You repeat, scoffing. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve been breathing down my neck like a fucking animal in heat all day. Practically begging for half a second of female attention in any form you can get it and you’re standing here-after trying to follow me to my car like some fucking pervert- and you’re trying to tell me you’re a gentleman?”

When you try to take a step forward, you're reminded of Sukuna's unrelenting grip on your hip bone, holding you in place.

“Calm down- all I wanted to do was walk you to your car.” Your ill-favored coworker rolls his eyes, although you can sense his discomfort in the way he takes a few steps away from you. His ego speaks again, and you see red. “You don’t have to be such a bitch about it.”

What.

“Alright, alright” Sukuna is shoving something cold and jagged into your hands, distracting the sudden confused rage that washes over you. Before you can expel it, he unfastens his hand from around your waist and nudges you in the direction behind him. “Go start the car.”

You blink up at him, taken back by the entire situation. His keys dangle in your frozen fingers, clinking together.

Sukuna knows you're mad. Knows the only thing on your mind is curb stomping the man in front of you. And you know he won't let you get anywhere near that.

“Come on, Duckie.” He purses his lower lip in a mock pout when you don't turn to leave immediately. There’s something dark glittering behind the faux playfulness in his eyes, reassuring you that nobody was going to get off easy, asking you politely to turn your gaze from what he was about to do.

His calloused thumb sweeps over your fingertips, gliding over the deep red nail polish there. The kiss he presses against your knuckles is one meant for royalty. Soft and sweet. And incredibly persuasive. “I just got these nails done. Lemme keep ‘em pretty for ya.”

When Sukuna opens the driver side door and slides in, fifteen minutes have passed. There’s a smear of blood on his cheek that matches the one on his knuckles, the red catches his eye in the review mirror. He licks his finger, using his spit to try and wipe it off before he turns to meet you, smiling sweetly.

“What should we get for dinner?"

#jjk #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #fluff #?#I think #I just had this scene in my head #modern au #I feel like sukuna would be a car head #grease monkey sukuna #my writing

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oldpotatoe · 7 months

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"the first casualty, when war comes, is truth"

i wish i wasn't writing this.

i wish i didn't have to caveat this whole statement with "by the way, i strongly condemn the killing of innocent civilians in any circumstance whatsoever" because i am a muslim and obviously every muslim voice represents all 1.8 billion of us, right? but your faves can go on instagram and loudly proclaim there is no two sides to this - i stand with the apartheid state bombing and starving children! with no consequences whatsoever. right.

i wish i didn't have to filter every bit of information i saw because of rampant lies and misinformation boosted across social media, especially when it shrouds the actual atrocities happening. it's still unconfirmed whether 40 babies were murdered by hamas militants - if true, it is an awful, awful act done by the lowest of the low. but as we speak, 447 children have been confirmed to be killed - murdered - in gaza just in the last few days.

i wish i didn't see videos of those murders. i wish i could wipe away the horrific wailing of a father as he clawed his daughter's lifeless body out of rubble, falling to his knees as he cried for her to wake. i wish i didn't see mothers clutching small, bloodied bundles in their hands, screaming and screaming and screaming. i wish i could forget that i have been seeing iterations of these videos coming out of palestine from 2021, 2014, 2009, 2006 - oh, basically anytime israel decided to launch an offensive on gaza.

i wish children didn't make up 47% of gaza's 2 million population, of which 4 out of 5 were living with PTSD and depression as per a report from last year (aka before this latest shitstorm started), because living in an open air prison under constant threat of bombing really helps make those childhood memories extra special. i wish these children were considered as human as those across the border, their lives as important and meaningful.

i wish that literal war crimes were not taking place in gaza right now. this includes the war crimes by hamas of taking innocent hostages - hamas, may i remind the reader, is a palestinian terrorist organisation but not all palestinians are hamas - and also the war crimes of the israeli government by literally ordering a siege of gaza with "no electricity, no food, and no fuel." this is to ensure that the children who aren't already dead are well on their way, i guess.

i wish we weren't watching an ethnic cleansing literally taking place in front of our eyes.

i wish i didn't feel so helpless. i wish i could console my friends who are on the daily losing multitudes of relatives, and who now have no way of finding out who else they've lost until the electricity comes back on. i wish my words didn't feel so hollow.

i wish i could wave a palestinian flag in solidarity but i may get arrested for it here, in the uk, so better not.

i wish. i wish. i wish.

#palestine #free palestine #from the rivers to the sea.

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koemiexists · 2 months

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Perfect Gift | Alastor x Fem Reader

summary: you receive a gift from alastor after residing in the hotel for a month word count: 3.7k tags: smut, cream pie, voice kink, love bites

Recently, you have been noticing just how enchanting Pentagram City is, with the way it seemed to pull you forward. Residing in the Pride Ring as a sinner, you never got to see past that ring.

Nothing was truly new, except for what was occurring around the Morningstar District, as some sinners pegged it. You usually reside in the inner city, near the Heaven Ambasade.

Towards the border of the Morningstar District, on an elevated ground was what seemed to be a hotel, and you could just barely make out the words. Hazbin Hotel .

It seemed interesting, it intrigued you. And the best part, it was something new.

Now, if you were one for TV, you’d probably have heard about the Hotel way sooner from a news reporter Katie Killjoy, but you find it much more fascinating to listen to the radio, old fashion, but it’s something you enjoyed.

You guess that if it wasn’t for your constant urge to try new things, you likely wouldn’t have ended up in this mess. Yet, you can’t find it in yourself to hate where you turned up.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” A feminine voice said, and you thought you could vaguely hear just how bright it was. You watched as Charlie Morningstar, the princess of Hell, next to the throne, jumped in your space, her eyes shining. “Are you a wayward sinner in hopes of being redeemed!? Are you here for a chance to make it to Heaven, to have your soul be cleansed of your sins?”

Redemption? You weren't too sure it was possible, but if Charlie, the daughter of Lucifer, believed it so wholeheartedly... Perhaps there was a chance.

“I never really thought about being redeemed,” You admit quietly, looking up at the tall hellborn. Why was she so tall? Was her father even taller then? Your internal dialogue was cut short when she gasped.

“No? Never?” She inquired, bending her knees slightly, her eyes crinkling a bit knowingly at your height difference predicament.

Truly is the daughter of the Devil , you thought with a frown. “No, not really. I came here because I was interested, if I’m being honest.” You felt embarrassed, you didn’t want to turn away after how excited Charlie seemed. “But... now that you mention it, I wouldn’t mind being redeemed.”

Charlie’s smile grew wider, and with a tug, you found yourself in the hotel, feeling a bit dizzy, albeit excited at what you were getting into.

You saw her take a deep breath, and gather the other members around. “This is Vaggie-” A young woman comes into view, and you furrow your brows, wondering why she looks different from the others you see in Hell. Almost like an-

“Angel Dust is the name! Nice to meet ya, toots,” A spider looking demon grins at you, and you felt your face flush, knowing exactly where you heard the name, and saw him from. You never watched his porn movies voluntarily, but you have heard about him countless times from your coworkers.

Charlie smiles, and points towards a bar. “There’s Husk, and we have our maid, Nifty!”

“Forgetting someone?” Vaggie mentioned, rolling her eye.

The woman furrowed her brows, wondering just who she was missing. “Oh! You’re right! I don’t know where he is right now, but there’s also Alastor, our facility manager!”

At that moment, you felt a presence behind you, yelping as you fell. From the ground, an inky darkness rose into the form of a tall demon, a large grin present on his face. “You called?” He spoke, and you felt a sharp tingle go through your body at the sound of his voice, staticky but also pleasant.

Charlie smiled. “Yup, that’s Alastor!” She spoke, helping you up.

“Ah- Nice to meet you all. I’m (Name).” You spoke, feeling shaken up still.

“(Name)?” Alastor spoke, his grin widening as he walked over to you. “Well it is just a pleasure to be meeting you. You’re here to be redeemed, dear?” He questioned, and you can only mumble a yes, cheeks flushing.

Charlie was about to speak again, before her phone rang loudly, and she let out a quiet groan. “Who is... Dad? Ugh, alright! Vaggie, Alastor, can you please show (Name) around? And (Name), sorry for not being the one to give you a tour! I have to take this call.” She gave you an apologetic smile, before walking off, answering the phone.

You notice Vaggie had an annoyed expression, but it was quickly wiped off as she turned to you. “Well let’s get this tour going. At the end we’ll show you your quarters, (Name).”

“Alright,” Smiling, you follow Vaggie, keenly aware of Alastor trailing behind you two.

“...And this is the kitchen, Nifty usually cooks, but as long as you aren’t absolutely horrible at it, we don’t mind if you use it. Here’s-” Vaggie pauses, taking out her phone, squinting her eye at it. “Sorry,” She apologized, as she backed up. “Charlie needs me right now. Alastor? Finish the tour for (Name), please.”

With that she left, leaving just you and Alastor, whose grin sharpened. “Well, it’s just you and me now!” He laughed, beginning to walk forward as you trailed behind.

You stayed silent, before your curiosity fully peaked, leaving you unable to keep your mouth shut. “Your cane,” You started, feeling Alastor’s gaze on you even though you were looking down. “What’s it for?”

“What do you think it is for?” He questioned back, watching as you fumbled your words.

“Well- I just thought it was for aesthetics-”

Alastor let out a laugh. “Only for appearances? Well darling, it allows me to broadcast my voice.”

Your brows furrow, confused. “Is that all it does?” You inquire, wondering if you’ll get more information. “Wait- broadcast...?”

His smile broadens as he watches you expressively piece it together. “I heard your broadcasts before!” You sputtered, and then you froze. “Oh my gosh. You’re the Radio Demon , aren’t you...”

“Correct! I am.” He said with glee, as he opened a door, pointing inside with his cane. “A gentleman will never enter a woman’s quarters without permission,” Alastor spoke, looking at you.

“This is my room...? Already?” You murmured, as you walked in, noting how it was already furnished.

Alastor let out a huff of laughter, the radio effect increasing slightly. “Darling, you didn’t seriously expect many sinners to be rushing to reside here, now do you?”

You frown, crossing your arms. “Charlie believes in this idea. Who's to say it’s not a possibility? Being redeemed seems far-fetched, yes, but I’ll gladly try and be cleansed of my sins then spit in her idea.”

“Would you still think that way?~” He sing-songed, grinning. “Charlie’s way is less than conventional, you’ll see. But if you truly wish to reside here in the path of redemption... Well, who am I to stop you?” Alastor leaned in, patting your head. Then he seemingly melted into that inky darkness you saw, watching as it went down the hall.

“Weird.” You huffed, rubbing your eyes. You were exhausted, mentally and physically, and the fluffy bed seemed to be calling your name.

“(Name)!” Charlie yelled, watching as you yelped, falling from your bed. “Great, you’re awake.”

You grumbled softly. “Only because you yelled. I was sleeping, peacefully.”

She grinned. “Not anymore. Besides, it’s good to be an early riser!”

The princess helped you up, and began going through your closet. “I think you’re due for a trip outside the hotel. You have clothes, but...” Charlie frowned, wrinkling her nose as she took out an article of clothing that was at least a few hundred years old. “They’re old.”

“Yeah,” You yawned. “It’s ‘cause I never made enough truly besides the necessities. I couldn’t really splurge.”

Charlie gasped, turning to you. “You couldn’t? Well- we need you to! This is actually sad.” She began to think, before snapping her fingers. “Don’t worry, I know who you can borrow some clothes from!”

“Who?” You questioned, watching as Charlie tapped rapidly at her phone, then pocketing it.

Your door opened, and you watched as Vaggie walked in, holding a few pieces of clothing. “(Name), you need some new clothes.” She said, glancing at the battered clothes. “Jeez. Your clothes are actually ugly.”

“Vaggie!” Charlie huffed, and her girlfriend smiled a little, pecking her cheek. “A kiss isn’t going to change the fact you said something so mean!” She squawked.

You groaned. “Let’s just move on from my wardrobe, alright?”

Vaggie shrugged, putting down the clothes on your bed. “Here. You’re lucky we’re roughly the same height and size.”

Grasping the soft clothes, you note how they were very feminine. “You have pretty taste.” You remarked quietly, as you pulled at the dressing screen.

She let out a laugh. “Thanks, (Name). I’d say the same but-” “Vaggie-!”

“-I would need to see more of your clothes.” Vaggie finished wryly, smirking.

You huffed, even though truly, you were amused. Opening your mouth to speak again, you fell silent when a knock was heard on the door.

You heard Charlie get up, opening the door slightly. “Yes?”

“Is (Name) there?” You heard Angel ask, and you felt relieved.

“Uhm..” Charlie bit her lip, unsure if you wanted him to come in.

You pulled the clothing screen back, revealing the flowy skirt paired with a tight blouse. “Charlie, it’s okay! Angel can come in. I’m finished changing anyways.”

Angel sauntered in, stretching. “Look at you, toots. You look awfully dolled up for how you usually dress.”

Vaggie snorted, as she got up, walking towards the door. “Charlie made her change. She had to borrow my clothes.” She said, grinning. “Anyways, Charlie and I will be downstairs if you need us, (Name).”

You watched the couple wave, shutting your bedroom door closed afterwards.

“So,” Angel started, smirking.

You quirked a brow, sitting down on your bed. “So,” You repeated back, folding your arms.”

He grinned. “It’s been a few weeks, how are you feelin’ staying in this hotel?”

That was something you were thinking about. It was amazing to be able to live here without needing to pay money. It also helped how nice Charlie and Vaggie were to you.

What also was good was just how pleasant it was to listen to Alastor speak. You hid your radio in your drawer almost always, but when you heard the little crackle that was the tell-tale sign he was live, you always tuned in.

“Good.” You said simply, smiling. “I like it here enough. It’s nice to be around welcoming people too.”

Angel laughed, moving to sit next to you, laying his head on your lap. “Does getting horny at Alastor’s voice also help?” He asked casually, laughing louder as you squeaked and pushed him off.

“I do not get horny at his voice!”

“No?” Angel probed, watching as you got even more flustered.

“Let’s just go.” You muttered, embarrassed and flushed from just the thought. Angel only smirked, walking with you down the stairs.

It’s something that became a bit of a routine, Angel joking with you about you being attracted to Alastor’s voice, and you fervently denying it, despite it being the truth.

And then one day, while you were out with Charlie to run errands, Angel slipped up.

Alastor was already quite interested in the fact you hung out with him so frequently, especially since he only made idle chat with you, and on rare occasions sought out to make a deal for your soul.

You always declined, knowing that making a deal with Alastor would be a terrible choice, as Husk told you.

So when Angel began to talk about you to Husk in a drunken haze, he found it to be a perfect opportunity to learn more about you.

“So,” Angel spoke, slurring his words only lightly. “(Name) fell into a puddle of someone’s vomit! She told me how embarrassed she was! I told her she wasn’t alone, and how I slipped on some dude’s jizz once, but she just argued how it wasn’t the same.”

Husk snorted. “It really isn’t. One is gross, and the other is because you’re a pornstar who actually deals with bodily fluids like jizz.”

Angel rolled his eyes, drinking some more alcohol. “It’s the same sentiment though! That shit hurts. Plus, it was sticky, which is gross.”

Alastor felt his eyes twitch, ready to slink away to do something more productive, before he heard Angel speak up again.

“Hey Whiskers, did I tell you about something (Name) doesn’t tell anyone ? I only figured it out by observing!”

It was obvious Husk wanted to stop Angel from spilling your secrets, but he was also curious. “No, what happened?”

Leaning in, Angel spoke in a voice that meant to be hushed, but was regular in volume. “She finds Alastor’s voice attractive! Like, she gets absolutely flustered when listening to his broadcast- she hides a radio she owns in her drawer. She uses it only to listen to him. Isn’t that crazy?”

Alastor let out a quiet hum, static filling in the air as he slipped into the darkness, ready to use this new information.

You were exhausted from the outing with Charlie, but she insisted, stating how “a new resident’s idea on things will benefit the hotel in the future!”

You wish you told her you didn’t want to, but it was Charlie, and she would have just sang to you in order to convince you. And needless to say, you didn’t want her singing. Slumping in your bed, you cuddled against the comforters, fully about to drift off to sleep, before you heard a light noise. Groaning, you turned over, refusing to get up, until you felt a presence. Jolting up, you saw Alastor, who was grinning widely at you.

“And I thought the new resident was sleeping peacefully!” He laughed, twirling his cane. “Looks like she’s fully awake instead.”

You huffed. “What do you need, Alastor? I’m tired, Charlie dragged me all around Pentagram City.”

He smirked, sitting on the bed. “Well, I thought that you needed a gift.”

“Gift?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “Why do I need a gift?”

“You don’t even know?” Alastor’s voice was self-satisfied as he pulled out a calendar from nowhere, tapping on it. “It’s your full month being here! That calls for a gift, don’t you think?”

You narrowed your eyes. “No.” You said flatly.

“So hostile!” He laughed, grinning even wider. “Well dear, I think you deserve one. Especially with how sweet you are to others. Almost rivaling Ms. Morningstar!”

“I don’t believe so,” You sighed. “Charlie is insanely nice. I think I’m only a fraction of how nice she is. And I think I’m just okay to be around, everyone else is too abrasive.”

Alastor leaned closer, his smile toothy. “Abrasive? Such a big word! Only fitting for a knowledgeable lady like yourself, hmm? Although, I think you’re only so informed and enlightened by a certain radio broadcast, don’t you think so?”

You felt your blood run cold, as you slowly turned to Alastor, who’s smile widened even more at your fearful expression. “What are you talking about?” You whispered.

“What do you mean dear?” He asked, the static increasing in his voice again. “The fact that you have a radio hidden in your drawer, that you use to listen to me whenever I begin to broadcast,” He said, leaning over you as your breath began to pick up. “Or the fact you get aroused at hearing me speak? Is that why you come to me so much? To listen to me speak?”

Your breath hitched, and Alastor laughed. “Oh, it is! Aren’t you the naughty doe? Getting riled up over the sound of my voice...” He hummed, and you felt him begin to unbutton your pajama top. “Say, do you touch yourself to my voice? When I start my radio show late at night, do you wake up just to listen in?”

“I-” You let out a small whimper, arousal pooling in your lower belly as he rubbed light circles on your hips. “Sometimes-! Only some- only a little.” You spoke, fast and hushed as you gripped his arms. “Alastor-”

He smirked. “Let this be your gift, for being here for a month.” Alastor said shortly, pushing your top off. Your breath hitched, but you can’t find yourself to feel uncomfortable or angry, you wanted this so badly. To have a night with Alastor, to feel his touch in an intimate way.

“Alastor,” You spoke breathily, as he slipped his hand underneath your pajama shorts, rubbing at your wet slit.

You felt hot, your body responding to his touches extremely well, like it was made to be touched by him.

Alastor bit at your collarbone, laving his tongue over the bite, growling lightly at the taste of blood. “Look at you. Look how your body responds to me.” His voice lost some of its static, and you couldn’t help but moan at the sound.

He laughed, and began to work a finger inside you, thrusting in and out, curling it against the spongy part deep within you.

“Wow, you really do like my voice. You have a voice kink, (Name)? Want me to groan in your ear?” He questioned, smirking as he bit lightly on your lobe.

You huffed, moaning as quietly as you could, rolling your hips into his hand. “Damn it, Alastor.” You choked, grasping at the sheets underneath you. “ Fuck - please, please just...”

He leaned closer, obviously waiting for you to say what you wanted. “Just...?”

“Shit! Fuck me? Please?” You whimpered, an embarrassing high pitch whine emitting from you as he removed his finger.

“Fascinating, isn’t it? I didn’t even put two fingers in you! Look at just how much arousal is covering my finger.” Alastor licked his finger, laughing.

You mewled pitifully, needing him badly. “Fuck you,” You groaned, trying to get him to just fuck you.

Alastor let out a haughty cackle, unzipping his trousers as he pulled your hips against him. “Are you ready, darling? You wanted this so bad.”

Letting out another whine, you nod, watching as Alastor kissed and bit at your chest.

Then, in one swift motion you felt him enter you, filing you to the absolute brim. You moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around his waist, eyes shutting close as you tried to steady your breathing.

“When I fuck you,” Alastor began, his voice sharp as his hand gripped you chin, forcing you to look at him. The pain was slight, but enough for you to let out a quiet whimper. “You will look at me when I do so. You understand, (Name)?”

“Yes,” You stutter out, your walls fluttering around his cock.

Alastor hummed, waiting as he watched you tremble and try to fuck yourself onto him, a smug grin present on his face. “My poor doe,” He cooed, his voice crackling with static as he pinched your nipple. You yelped, and he laughed, kissing your neck, the very same spot he bit.

“Hungry for me to fuck you dumb, hm? You really are a whore for me.” He murmured, kissing your lips lightly before he gripped your thighs, pulling out almost completely.

“Don’t worry my doe, I’ll make sure you get what you want.” He breathed out, his voice slightly deeper as he slammed back in you, the headboard hitting the wall roughly as his fingers clawed into your hip.

You cried out loudly, pussy dripping all over his pelvis as he repeated the motions, rough thrusts into your willing body. “Alastor, Christ!”

He let out a quiet growl, snapping his hips into your body at a faster pace.

“The only name you shall evoke is mine. Understand?” He spoke harshly as the ever present grin became strained, the static in his voice and around him increasing as he grasped your face, staring into your eyes.

You moaned loudly, nodding pitifully, and he smirked. “Good girl.”

Alastor began to maneuver you while thrusting slowly, your ankles pressing against his shoulders instead of his waist. He pressed a hand against your abdomen, moving at a bit faster pace, a groan escaping him. “You’re being such a good girl. ” Alastor groaned, right in your ear, and burst, whining loudly.

His own breath hitched, as he kept thrusting in your spasming heat, sucking a large bruise on your neck.

You felt your energy drain from you, overstimulated and sensitive after your orgasm, yet Alastor didn’t seem done with you yet. Groaning, you tried to pull away, legs shaking from the continued stimulation at your groin.

“You aren’t truly that foolish, right (Name)?” Alastor laughed, swiping his fingers at his tongue, before rubbing tight circles onto your clit, watching as you jerked from his touch.

Almost as if you got electrocuted, you let out a wail, pushing with all your might to get some reprieve, but the pain felt almost too good. Alastor bit your lip lightly, snickering when you began to orgasm again, squirting all over his pelvis and the bed sheets.

You jolted, twitching lightly as Alastor buried himself deep, kissing you passionately as he came inside you. You couldn’t find any stamina to pull away and turn, fully relying on the radio demon to help you.

He let out a low cackle, pulling out and zipping his trousers up again. Despite the obvious spot at his crotch from your squirting, he decided he’ll resolve it later, tucking you into bed. “Hope you enjoyed your gift, my little doe.” He murmured, fixing his hair.

“Hey, (Name)! What’s all the noise?” Charlie came bounding into your room, freezing at the sight of Alastor.

Vaggie came behind Charlie, immediately falling into a fighting stance when she noticed Alastor as well.

“Uh... Alastor,” Charlie started, trying to smile casually. “What are you doing in (Name)’s room...? And uhm, why does it smell like that?”

Alastor laughed, his expression smug. “I just gave (Name) a gift, that’s all! She’ll be fine, maybe a little sore.” He turned to you, his expression softening just a tiniest bit. “Well, ladies, I’m off to do a radio broadcast! I’ll see you two in the morning.”

#alastor headcanons #alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fandom #smut #female reader #x reader

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xxsabitoxx · 7 months

Text

Confession | Kinktober

Priest Geto Suguru x AFAB Reader

Warnings: religion, sacrilege, fucking a priest, blow jobs, finger fucking, explicit language, squirting, pet names, mild gaslighting

A/N: Day three is here! This one may be offensive to anyone who is religious so please proceed with caution.

WORD COUNT: 3.6K

“Tell me, what have you come here for?” You squirmed a bit against the uncomfortable wooden chair. The box itself was pretty dim, only a small, uncovered lightbulb was illuminating the musty space. Through a mesh window on your left, the man spoke with a gentle tone. “I’ve come to confess my sins to you, father.” You couldn’t calm your racing heart, hands twisting tightly together as you mentally prepare yourself to receive his blessings. “Is that so? Please, my dear, tell me the things that haunt you.” Again, his tone was enough to make you shudder. Although it was gentle, it sparked something warm deep within your gut.

“You see, father, I’ve been a terribly naughty girl.” You swallowed, eyes shutting slowly as you tried to focus on your own words. “Go on.” This time it was a little less gentle, a little more gruff. It made warmth flood your cheeks, your eyes blinking open in surprise. You knew what the priest looked like, having attended some of his masses before. You knew he was a devastatingly attractive man, one around your age, and one unfortunately sworn to celibacy. That, however, didn’t make you want him any less. “Father Suguru, I’ve done things I shouldn’t have… to myself.” You spoke in a low tone, listening to him hum softly before asking “Like what? What have you done to yourself?” he took the bait, your heart hammering in your chest.

“I've touched myself, for my own pleasure.” You held your breath, vaguely certain that Father Suguru did too. After a moment of your confession hanging in the air, he spoke up. “Oh? How many times have you committed this sin?” his tone wasn’t as gentle now, rather it held a level of strain to it. You could hear him shifting in his seat on the other side of the small confessional wall. “Many times, father. I’ve lost count… which is why I’ve come to you. I want to be cleansed of my filthy acts, only your generous mercy can free my tainted soul.” You stroked his ego with each word, a devious grin plastering to your lips as you heard him clear his throat.

“Sweet girl, by his grace I can cleanse you. But for it to truly work, I’m going to need you to be a little more specific. Tell me how you committed this act, recall one of the moments for me.” you could have choked on the little saliva that was in your mouth, heat pooling deep down as you recalled the last time you masturbated. “Oh well, last night I…” You stopped when you heard him inhale sharply, your teeth sinking into the side of your cheek before you asked “Father Suguru, are you alright?” You tried to sound innocent, praying your smirk wasn’t evident in your tone. “I-I’m alright, I was just taken by surprise. I didn’t think you’d be so bold as to touch yourself the night before coming to see me. But by all means…” his tone was mildly condescending “... go on.”

Your thighs pressed together, alleviating the mild ache just a bit. You hadn’t even gotten into the details with him, yet you could feel your own arousal dampening your underwear. “Well, you see, I was laying in my bed all alone. I got bored, my mind wandered and I started to think about such sinful things, Father. They got the better of me and I found myself kicking off the sheets and using my hands to toy with my breasts.” You swallowed, one hand coming up to hold your breast as you spoke, as if needing a physical reminder for all the things you had done. “A-and that wasn’t enough. I felt so achy down there that I couldn’t help taking my panties off and spreading my legs…” You stopped again, letting it hang in the air as you tried to compose yourself.

Beyond the confessional wall, Father Suguru was gritting his teeth, trying desperately to even his breathing as his cock started to strain against his pants. He wasn’t supposed to know who was sitting beside him, but your voice was recognizable. What a sinful girl you were, always attending his masses in such short sundresses. Your smile was addicting, just like the way your hips swayed as you walked up to him to chat after the mass was done. The thoughts you made him think, the things you made him feel… you must have been a temptation sent by the devil. But god dammit, it turns out he was a weak, weak man. He couldn’t resist the temptation of you for much longer he feared. Especially now. “And then what did you do?” he breathed out, quieter.

“Father, is this really necessary?” you feigned innocence again, all the while you were slowly parting your legs. “Y-yes, go on. For your sins to be properly forgiven, you must tell me in detail.” You could hear his voice straining again, threatening to crack if you asked him something else. “Alright then…” you sighed, legs spreading enough for your hand to slip down and press on your aching cunt. You nearly whimpered, swallowing the noise by clearing your throat. “I used my hand to reach down there and play with myself.” You admitted with warm cheeks, the heat radiating from where your fingers were pressing was enough to make you squirm, the old wooden chair creaking as your hips swivelled. Father Suguru was losing the battle, hand shakily holding his fully erect length and squeezing it roughly in hopes of helping the ache.

“And?” he said again, as if working on autopilot. “I played with my pussy until I climaxed.” you stated boldly, using two fingers to press directly over your aching clit. You heard it loud and clear now, a deep rumbling groan from the priest beside you. “You know, such a sinful act needs more of a demonstration.” he spoke with a surprisingly level tone, letting go of his aching bulge to stand. You, on the other hand, had frozen in your seat. “A-a demonstration? Father Suguru, I just bore my soul to you by explaining verbally.” But you heard him click his tongue, “Nonsense girl, you’ve yet to bare your soul to me in any capacity.” You pushed your dress down, hand resting on your lap instead of your cunt as you straightened, Through the mesh window, you could see he was standing. “An intervention for a tainted soul like yours needs to happen face to face.”

You couldn’t help but gasp, watching through the window as he pushed the door to the confessional open and stepped out. A moment later you were standing, shamelessly pushing the door open to stand in front of the clearly worked up priest. “Father Suguru…” you started innocently yet again, as if you weren’t the direct cause of his raging erection. His jaw was clenched tight, his hair out of its uniform bun and instead styled in a half up half down look. It only made you want him more, especially with the way his tanned cheeks were flushed red. His pupils were swallowing the pretty brown of his eyes, his fingers were tugging at the tight collar of his black clergy top. Your eyes zeroed in on the bulge in his pants before trailing back up.

“You need to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness.” You blinked, eyes roaming the empty pews of the cathedral’s main room. His voice was echoing, sending a shiver down your spine as stain glass windows looked back at you. “Father Suguru I…” you swallowed, truly not anticipating the priest to go as far as he was. You hadn’t gotten this far in your daydreams, because you always convinced yourself the holy man wouldn’t give into temptation. Yet, you were taking a step forward, dropping to your knees before him on the cold marble floor. You felt like you should be ashamed of what you were about to do, not only in front of an altar, but with a priest… a man who swore his life to this work.

“Don’t speak.” he commanded slowly, fixing you in place with a hard stare. Your lips closed again, any sort of reason leaving your mind as he started undoing his belt with one hand. The other came down to tuck some hair behind your ear, the motion far too gentle for the flames burning in his gaze. “Be a good girl for me, open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” You obeyed, Suguru’s eyes watched with dilated pupils as your pretty lips parted and your tongue appeared. He breathed out through his nose, leaning over you a little as his belt came undone. You flinched as he spit, saliva landing perfectly in your mouth. “Swallow it, sweet girl.” you did, eyes locking with his as you swallowed the contents in your mouth.

“You must really want forgiveness.” He mused, quickly undoing the button and zipper of his black slacks. You nodded slowly, being mindful to remain quiet just as he had asked. “Surely, this is your ticket to salvation.” You held in a gasp as Suguru pulled out his cock. It was certainly bigger than you had anticipated, tanned and long with pretty veins running up the sides. “Father Suguru… please…” you rasped, mouth watering at the sight of his pretty cock. “Atta girl, beg for your forgiveness, you can speak now.” Your lips parted, eyes trained on the oozing tip as Suguru wrapped his hand around the middle of his shaft. He was taunting you with it, moving it side to side just to watch your eyes follow it wherever it went.

“F-father Suguru I… I want to be forgiven for my sins… I want you to cleanse my soul with your gracious hands… Father Suguru please…” you begged him, breathing turning laboured as you waited for him to stop the torture and give you what you wanted. Suguru held his breath for a moment, heart racing as each syllable fell from your lips. “Please… god please.” you were breathless, eyes watering as you looked up at him. “Yes…” Suguru whispered, squeezing his length tightly before taking a half step forward. He was in mouth’s reach now, making your hips wiggle as your lips parted for him. “Please…” you said again, shivering as his second whisper of yes reached your ears. You took initiative now that he gave you his permission.

You kept your hands folded nearly on your lap, only using your mouth to take him. With Suguru’s guidance, the weeping head of his cock was slipping between your lips. You inhaled through your nose, jaw struggling to open wide enough to accommodate him as you pushed your head further down his length. You were determined to take the priest’s entire cock, you wanted to hear his pretty moans bouncing off the walls of the cathedral. You locked eyes with him, swallowing around him just to see his eyes nearly roll back. You had to wonder if this was the first time he had ever gotten head, maybe this would be the first time he ever got to touch a woman. The idea of the priest above you being a virgin made your cunt clench around nothing.

Suguru’s lips were parted, letting go of his cock as you began to bob your head, hands obediently on your lap. “Such a good girl… such a good girl… so so good…” be babbled softly, hands coming to cup your cheeks and guide you as his cock slipped in and out of the wet cavern of your mouth. You got off on his praise, fingers itching to sink between your thighs and toy with your clit just as you had described to father Suguru moments earlier. “So good, you’re such a good girl for not touching yourself yet. Surely you’ll be forgiven…” he groaned, head tilting back as your nose brushed the dark mess of hair at the base of his cock before you pulled back again. Each pass over your tongue, each time your throat constricted around him, it was enough to send him into a blissful state of euphoria. It was enough to make him question his beliefs.

Your mouth was too preoccupied to ask, but you desperately wanted to touch his balls. They were sitting there, taunting you, growing shiny as your saliva cascaded down his shaft. You moved one hand, eyes still locked on his neck and chin since he was tilting his head back, to test the waters. Suguru didn’t seem to notice as your fingers danced up his thigh, tongue still lavashing him as your head moved back and forth in a steady rhythm. You hesitated for only a moment before gingerly cupping him, watching as his head shot forward to look down at you with a shocked expression. They were warm and heavy with his cum, tightening as you massaged them between your fingers. “Oh… good girl…” he said again, voice a little more broken than before as he uttered the same praise for you.

The repetitiveness of it wasn’t an issue for you, if anything it got you going more. Every time he uttered the phrase, you felt yourself grow wetter, you were certain your panties were absolutely destroyed at this point. “I-I’m going to cum if you keep doing that… is that what you want, sweet girl?” he cooed, regaining a little composure as he spoke to you. You hummed, sending vibrations straight through him and eliciting a moan from his lips. “You want my cum, don’t you sweet girl. You want me to shoot my load right down your throat, right?” you hummed again, moaning around his twitching length as you squeezed his balls a little harder. Suguru cursed, the sound coming from the priest were enough to have your nipples bubbling, brushing uncomfortably against the material of your bra. “Fuck…fuck…” he panted, cheeks flushing a dark shade of pink as his fingers buried in your hair, no longer gentle as he rutted his hips into your mouth.

You gagged, fully unprepared for the priest to take over the way he had, the sound echoing and only fueling the fire in his gut. Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over and down your cheeks as you let him thrust into your mouth as he pleased, fingers fisting in your hair just as your free hand fisted in the material of your sundress. You inhaled through your nose, lightheaded as the priest abused your throat to his liking. “Gonna… fuck gonna cum… oh yes, fuck… gonna cum down that pretty throat.” you whined, eyes nearly shutting before he commanded you to keep them open. “Look at me, the only way you can be forgiven is if you look at me, sweet-ah-girl.” He gritted his teeth, the pleasure ebbing up the back of his spine was going to make his knees week. Dutifully, you kept your eyes on him, watching his jaw go slack before he finally came.

You flinched, throat constricting at the extra intrusion but relaxing a moment later. You swallowed, mildly disappointed he had waited until he was nearly down your throat to cum. You didn’t get to taste much, not until he drew his hips back and the salty taste dragged over your tongue. Suguru was panting, watching you reach up to rub your aching jaw as he tried to even his breathing. “You’re on the road to forgiveness, sweet girl. But I don’t quite think you’re there yet.” You looked at him with mild hurt, you had thought you had done so good. “Be a doll and strip for me… sit on the pew and demonstrate your sins from last night.” the priest was tucking his now softened cock away, trying to act as if he weren’t flustered in the slightest. “Father Suguru…” you spoke, voice slightly raspy from his use.

“Yes? I believe I made myself clear.” he watched as you stood to your full height again, pulling your sundress off with no shame. You held his gaze as you pulled your ruined panties down, making sure he could see how destroyed they were before dropping them on the cold marble and walking down the few steps to the first row of pews. “I would much rather instruct you, I think it only makes sense for your pure hands to cleanse me of my sins in the deepest way.” You sat on the cold, polished wood, looking up at him where he stood on the elevated stage. He seemed to ponder your implications, huffing out a laugh before responding. “I guess that makes the most sense, you’re quite a smart, sweet girl.” You smiled at him, spreading your legs and moving to plant your feet on the pew. You were fully spread, the position mildly uncomfortable but you couldn’t really think past that point as cool air met your slick, displayed cunt.

“Father Suguru, please… I want to be pure.” you coaxed him down, watching as he took shaky footsteps before dropping to his knees before you. “Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me how you indulged yourself and tainted your soul… let me save you.” You shivered as his fingers trialed up the bare skin of your thighs, brown eyes observing your cunt dutifully. Your hands found their home pressed flat to either side of you, supporting you against the polished wood. “My clit… I played with it until I left a wet mark on my sheets… I didn’t let myself cum for a long while…” you breathed out, watching as he nodded, cheeks red and lips glossy as his tongue swiped across them. “I see…” he started, moving one calloused finger to swipe up your slick folds. “...like this? Gentle strokes and circles, right?” he used his thumb to press against your clit, rubbing it in circles until he felt you twitch. “Y-yeah…” you sighed, head falling back.

Suguru smirked, not moving any quicker. Your pretty sounds began to fill the empty cathedral, your arousal dripping down to the polished bench below you. He was careful with his movements, slowing until he was barely moving when he noticed you clenching around nothing, trying to draw your orgasm closer. “Be a good girl and let it happen… don’t force your body to cum because you think I’ll leave you hanging, sweet girl.” you whined, releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding until he said that. You forced your head back down, face warm as you realized he was still intently staring at you. Granted you had done the same to him as you got him off. “Tell me, is this how you were sinning last night?” Suguru waited until you were about to speak, using two fingers and slipping them straight into your slick core. “Y-yeah…”

Your body tensed again at the intrusion, moaning loudly as he massaged your walls. “I promise you, sweet girl, I will cleanse you.” he cooed, eyes focusing solely on you as he gauged your reactions. He would find that one particular spot, he was sure of it. “Please Father Suguru… cleanse me…” you cried out as he brushed it, a smirk curling the ends of his lips as he pressed his fingers into the front of your walls, thumb still sloppily rubbing your clit while his other hand squeezed your thigh. “S-Su…Father Suguru…” you croaked, tears leaking down your cheeks as he abused that one spongy part of your cunt. You couldn’t think straight, mind blanking completely as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. “Go on, sweet girl, cum on my fingers.” He encouraged, voice so gentle you would have never guessed he was knuckle deep in your cunt.

Suguru could feel it of course, your walls fluttering and twitching around his fingers as more and more of your slick arousal slipped out of you and down to the pew. “I’m gonna cum… Fa-ahh” you couldn’t get the rest out, hip jerking as your orgasm hit you before you could truly prepare. You cried out, the noise bouncing off of the cathedral walls as the priest continued to finger your cunt and circle your clit with his thumb. “S-Stop oh fuck s-stop…” you wheezed out, an unfamiliar feeling building in your gut as he continued to abuse that one spot with his fingers. “No, this is what you need, sweet girl, let it happen.” he encouraged, lips parted as he watched where his fingers had disappeared inside of you very intently. Your eyes screwed shut, trying to fight off the feeling but it was useless, the priest was unrelenting in his movements.

Shockwaves of your orgasm turned into a full blown tsunami, your head falling back as a gush of fluid sprayed out of you and onto the bench and marble floor below. You cried out, his name mixed somewhere in the jumble of your babbling, utterly embarrassed. Finally, Father Suguru stopped, withdrawing from your body entirely and getting off his knees. “Sweet girl, what a mess.” he scolded you, a devious grin on his face still as he looked your wrecked frame over. “You’ve been cleansed, pretty. But I would argue that we should double… or even triple check to make sure it’s really working.” Your body felt heavy, eyes lidded as you merely nodded, cunt still fluttering at the thought of getting more of the priest before you.

“I’ll make sure you are pure, my sweet girl.”

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sabersandsnipers · 7 months

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Drabbles: Caregiving

Featuring: Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Gortash

Inspiration courtesy of @creativepromptsforwriting

Astarion

To put it lightly, Astarion is a mess after killing Cazador. And who can blame him? After returning to camp, he simply sits and dissociates. His hands tremble. The only solace he finds is when you’re near.

Still covered in blood, you ask his permission to clean him up. He simply nods, his eyes staring at nothing. You grab a damp cloth and begin gently wiping away the dried blood. He leans towards you, hoping your presence itself can protect him from the trauma that keeps surfacing in his mind.

You notice his pants are still stained with blood as well. You gently cradle his face to get his attention.

“Do you need help changing?”

He doesn’t say anything but the look in his eyes is enough to assure he needs help. You lay him down and help him out of his soiled clothes. You quickly grab his night clothes, pulling his shirt over his head and helping him into new bottoms.

After he’s settled, you turn to leave, but his hand shoots out to grab your arm.

“Please stay.” His voice is strained. A deep ache blooms in you.

You sit next to him on his bedroll, cradling him against your chest and whispering soothing thoughts to him for the rest of the night.

Gale

As skilled a wizard as Gale is, he can’t always prevent himself from getting sick. Confined to his tent, you took it upon yourself to care for him.

As you brew some tea for him, he stretches out on his bedroll and watches you work. His heart warms at your worry for him. He really doesn’t deserve the care you’re giving him. He’s sure you have more important things to do.

You pour the tea for him, crouching next to the bedroll. With barely enough energy to move, you have to help him lift his head to take a sip. You gently cradle the back of his head, bringing the warm liquid to his lips.

He takes a small sip before laying his head down again.

He licks the remaining liquid off his lips. “It’s good,” he says. The taste of it sends a comforting warmth through him, mildly numbing the ache settling in his bones.

“I put a little something extra in there for you,” you tell him, winking.

He lets out a breathy laugh. “Why am I not surprised?”

Halsin

Halsin is always the one who wants to care for you. You’ve insisted time and time again to let you pamper him sometime. He works so hard for you, protecting you and making sure you never go to sleep hungry or cold.

After scrounging enough gold to get a room at a nearby inn, you finally force his hand. He’s bathing in the wash room, and you sneak in while he’s scrubbing at his skin.

He looks at you, a smile coming to his face. “Did you want to join me?”

You shake your head. “I was hoping I could wash your hair,” you tell him.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Please?” you insist. “You must be tired.”

His shoulders slouch and he ceases his scrubbing. “Get over here,” he grumbles.

You rush over to sit behind the tub, leaping at the chance to help Halsin relax. You make quick work of wetting his hair, pouring a cleansing mix onto his scalp. Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, massaging slowly.

“Hmmm, that feels good,” he says, voice low.

You smile, watching as the tenseness leaves his body. “Good. You deserve it.”

He leans his head back, making it easier for you to work your fingers through his long hair.

You can’t help yourself. You lean forward to press a kiss to his neck. He turns to you, a warm smile on his lips.

Your heart melts just like the first time you saw it.

Gortash

You straddle Lord Enver Gortash, his bare back laid before you. Your fingers dig into his tense muscles, earning moans from deep within him. He dearly needed a massage after an especially tiring day of ruling over Baldur’s Gate. The power of having him writhe beneath you is intoxicating.

You lean down and start to press kisses to his lower back, slowly trailing upwards. He growls your name. A warning. You know if you continue to tease him he’s going to flip you onto your back. The thought thrills you.

But you want to work out those big knots in his back first. He deserves to be taken care of before he takes care of you. You continue your work, rocking back and forth on your heels to gain momentum as you dig deep into his flesh.

His moans rumble through your hands. You grin to yourself, looking forward to the moment where he gives you the pleasure you want in return.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion imagine #astarion x reader #halsin #halsin imagine #halsin x reader #enver gortash #enver gortash x reader #enver gortash imagine #lord gortash #gortash x reader #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #Gale imagine

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lxkeee · 2 months

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TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART SEVEN

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Swearing and Adam.

Notes: shit is about to go down.

PART ONE | PART SIX | PART EIGHT | NAVIGATION

“Because if you don't, I will personally kill you myself.” [Y/n] added, her eyes glaring down on Adam, her power and strength can be felt through the air and they can tell that she is absolutely furious.

“Oh shit.” Adam muttered underneath his breath. His boss' boss is here.

Adam nervously chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, “Heyyy there [Y/n]... I didn't expect you to be hereee or rather, I didn't expect to see you today... Don't you have work...?” he says nervously, clearly not expecting the news would reach the Seven Heavenly Virtues this soon and [Y/n]'s eyes narrowed even more at him, her wings fluttering behind her back—puffed up and angry.

“Enough Adam, you've done enough pain and destruction here. Take the exorcists and your ass back hOME!” She sneered, her eyes looking at Adam with annoyance, “You and Sera will be held accountable for your actions and for your disobedience and if you don't want a severe punishment then I suggest you go home quietly and quickly. Do you understand?” she snapped, her voice filled with anger and authority. Reminding them who they're dealing with.

Adam avoided her gaze and eventually nodded, “I understood...” he muttered, opening a portal back to heaven with a snap of his fingers, “Exorcists! Fall back and return.” Adam ordered and flew past [Y/n], the exorcists following behind him.

The sinners just looked at the scene in awe, an angel ordering Adam to stop whatever the fuck he was doing and the man just complied without questions.

Lucifer's eyes never left her form, he never stopped looking at her in fear that the moment he blinks she will disappear once more. Like a dust in the wind.

[Y/n] sighed, her angelic form calming down once Adam and the exorcists left, the portal closing. She turned back to look down on the sinners. Her heart ached when her eyes finally landed on her husband. Her mind telling her to imagine it was Xavier but how can she? When Lucifer was missing Xavier's [e/c] eyes? That is not her son, that is Lucifer, her husband, ex-husband?? She doesn't know the status of their marriage and she's in too much in pain to care.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm down her fast beating heart, she can feel her body is weakening even more. She barely got any rest, she's also wounded and her healing powers took most of her energy. She just hoped she had enough to last to return back home and back to her son.

She slowly flies down to where the sinners are, to where Lucifer is.

She landed in front of them gracefully, well, a little wobbly.

The sinners and Lucifer looked at her with hesitation, nervous whether she was a new enemy or an ally.

“Greetings, I am Raphael from the Seven Heavenly Virtues.” She greeted, giving them a small bow, “On behalf of heaven and the seven heavenly virtues, we apologized for Sera's, Adam's, and the exorcists' behavior. This cleansing wasn't approved by the others and was done without the other's notice. We will make sure that they will be held accountable for their actions and disobedience. We never intended for sinners to suffer like this.” she says, her voice quivering before kneeling in front of them.

This is so embarrassing. [Y/n] thought to herself.

Their eyes widened in surprise to see an angel, a seraphim angel prostrate herself, her head on the ground as she asked for their forgiveness.

They were also surprised to know that this cleansing wasn't a decision made by the entirety of heaven but just a few people.

Charlie waved her hands, trying to get the woman to stop kneeling, “Um... Please raise your head...” Charlie says nervously.

Lucifer was speechless, how could he not? His first wife that he didn't see for so many millennia is here. His eyes caught sight of a golden wedding ring on her ring finger—the very wedding ring he slipped into her finger when they got married, he could never forget it. She still wore it after all these years, after all the things he has done to her and their family. She waited for him...

[Y/n] raises her head, her eyes tired and... Lucifer doesn't remember her eyes to be this... Sad. His heart broke into pieces. He's done this, he caused her so much pain and it changed her. Those aren't the eyes of the [Y/n] he fell in love with, [Y/n]'s eyes were so bright and hopeful before and now... It doesn't even look like it can see herself living tomorrow. It doesn't even look like she has gotten enough sleep judging by the heavy bags underneath her eyes and the dark circles around her eyes.

[Y/n] avoided Lucifer's gaze, she felt so small and weak underneath his eyes. Even after all these years he still had this much effect on her.

[Y/n] tried to focus on whatever the girl said, her ears were slightly ringing and her eyes were slightly blurring. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand before slowly standing up, wobbling slightly.

Everyone noticed it, something is definitely wrong with her and it made them worry. They can notice how pale she looked and she seems to wince slightly whenever she moves.

“Are... Are you okay...?” Charlie asked worriedly, helping her up and [Y/n] smiled, though it never reached her eyes. The girl looked just exactly like Lucifer, this must be his daughter then?

“I'm just a little tired, don't worry about me.” She says weakly, patting the girl's head.

“I think I would be leaving now, we'll make sure to punish both Adam and Sera for their actions and we'll try to help hell find a better way to deal with its growing population.” She says, gently parting away from the girl's hold. Her body felt heavy and so incredibly exhausted. This is bad, she needs to get home soon.

She stumbled slightly, Lucifer's eyes widened and his body moved without thinking and caught her effortlessly, her head pressed against his chest, [Y/n]'s eyes widened, her eyes starting to prick, no don't cry, don't cry... He felt so warm and so soft, she missed this. She weakly tries to push him away. She can still smell his signature perfume of vanilla and roses from his suit. The scent calmed her down slightly.

“Lucifer... Please don't... Please don't hold me like this... Please don't hold me like you still care...” she pleaded weakly, trying to push him away. Her arms on his chest, weakly pushing him away but the man wouldn't budge.

These two have history together... The others thought as they looked at the two angelic beings.

Lucifer's heart aches even more but refusing to let go of her and make her fall into the floor, he can tell she's incredibly exhausted by how much she's no longer trying or having the energy to stand up for herself.

“No [Y/n]... I made that mistake before and I promised not to lose you again...” he says, his voice cracking with emotions, slightly choking on his words. [Y/n]'s eyes widened at his words, her heart aching, hurting, she wants to believe his words, but the damage is not so easy to fix. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She nuzzled her head against his chest, her eyes finally rolling back as she passed out into his arms. Physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted. Despite all of that, Lucifer's arms are as warm and comforting as she remembers.

Lucifer's gaze softened, he gently shifted [Y/n]'s limp body so he's now carrying her bridal style. Making sure he's not causing her even more pain.

His eyes returned back to the sinners and her daughter, they looked at him with evident confusion in their eyes. He sighs, “She's... My first wife... First ex-wife.. I don't know...” he answered pathetically to the unspoken question in the air, even he himself doesn't know what his status with her is. They never really divorced each other.

Angel Dust whistled, “Quite a dilemma you got there toots.” he snickered and Lucifer glared at him before sighing, he himself agreed to that statement, “I know...” he sighs.

“I'll just leave her somewhere safe to rest and I'll come back to help fix and tidy up this place.” Lucifer says, summoning a portal behind him and quickly stepping in with [Y/n] in his arms. The others didn't have time to protest as the portal closed before they could.

Lucifer carried her effortlessly in his arms, walking towards his bedroom—it is currently the cleanest as the other rooms were dusty from being unused.

He gently laid her down to rest on his bed, making sure she's not lying down on her hair. He was about to tuck her in when he noticed something golden seeped into her white dress, just by her waist.

His eyes widened, that's blood. Angelic blood to be specific.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

She's bleeding, what the actual fuck happened to her?

He thought to himself, debating whether to rip her dress or undress her so he could treat her wound.

“Oh Satan. I shouldn't overthink this, she's in desperate need of help.” Lucifer muttered underneath his breath, hands shaking. Why wouldn't he? She's finally back in his arms and now she's wounded and bleeding and passed out to exhaustion? He's behind worried!

Think Lucifer, think.

He thought to himself before finally getting an idea. He gently wakes her up with a small nudge, causing the girl fo groan and open her eyes.

Pain, sharp pain on her side is what [Y/n] felt first when she woke up. She could see a familiar mop of light blond hair. Disoriented, her eyes blurry, and head aching, she just groaned, “Xavier...?” she calls out, thinking it was her son.

“I'm sorry [Y/n], I'm just going to undress you and treat your wound real quick. Can I do that?” he murmured, asking for her consent. [Y/n] just nodded and groaned before passing out again.

Lucifer sighs in relief, snapping his fingers together to remove her dress and changed her into something comfortable and appropriate. A light pink satin pajamas. He lifted up her shirt and Lucifer had to cover his mouth.

So much concentrated negative energy is present on her wound, a wound that is located at the left side of her waist.

Lucifer swallows the lump of nothing in his throat, he sits on the empty spot of his bed. He'll worry later, he needs to heal her as fast as he can. Placing his hand above her wound, hovering slightly. A golden aura radiates from the palm of his hand.

No wonder she's so exhausted, it's taking so long to heal this wound. He thought, exerting more energy into healing her. His eyebrows furrowed as he maintained his concentration, making sure his power flows directly into his hand.

Slowly and surely, her wound began to close in. Lucifer could feel the exhaustion creeping in, the concentrated negative energy making the healing process much more harder.

No wonder she was so exhausted, she must've tried healing herself before coming here. He thought to himself.

With a gasped, the wound finally closed and healed itself. It felt like his life was sucked out of him after healing her.

He sighs, his eyes softening as his gaze landed on her sleeping form. She no longer had that pained expression on her face after healing her and he's glad. He's glad to be able to at least help her and not cause her pain for once. He gently lifts her hand and pressed a chaste kiss at her knuckle before bringing it back down again to her side.

He tucks her underneath the blanket, making sure she's comfortable.

He left her side once more, this time, promising that he'll be back. He just needed to help his daughter. He'll be back before she wakes up.

“Luci...? Please don't leave me again...” she whispers in her sleep, snuggling into his warm blanket. Lucifer's eyes watered, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes.

“I'll be back before you know it, I'll see you soon, [Y/n].” he whispers before teleporting away in specks of red and golden dust.

Meanwhile, in heaven.

“YOU LEFT MY MOTHER BEHIND?!” Xavier growled, pissed. He glares at Adam, the first man. Annoyed that the man left his mother with his father, THE MAN WHO LEFT HER FOR ANOTHER WOMAN!

“Look, your mom was clearly pissed off and I don't want to face her wrath. I can tell that that woman is holding so much anger inside her and just waiting to blow up.” Adam says nonchalantly, a sigh escaping his lips, shrugging.

Xavier wanted to rip his own hair in frustration. He is beyond worried, he just found out that his mother would be taking care whatever bullshit is happening in hell and she's been gone for hours now! Adam and the exorcists' arrived back in heaven three hours ago and there is still no sign of his mother.

He's worried, he knows his mother has just gotten out of work from the mortal realm and went straight down to hell to fix whatever damage Adam and the exorcists' did.

“Fuck this, I'm going down there and look for her.” Xavier says with a sigh, annoyed at Adam for being good for nothing.

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