#husband figure asshole

[sleepy-crypt1d]

HEHEHEH HES SO TINY

seeing them next to each other is so funny XDD

will be getting the gold funko later this week to complete the collection :3c

thank u to my bestest friend @gh0ulsh4rk for getting him for me <333 my tiny husband i love him

[kakashihasibs]

My husband asked me if i was okay bc i was "looking down" and i had to admit i was thinking mean thoughts about queer h@rry p0tter fans (ex or otherwise)

[hoshigray]

This is my first time requesting something but HEAR ME OUT, "Slow Cuddle-fucking with og Sukuna while he is holding (and caressing) Reader (His wife) tightly and praising her (with him having size(difference) and breeding kink) oneshot please please please PLEASESSS😭

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: NAH CUZ I SEE THE VISION, HOLD ON–

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - monster-fucking (he got 2 dicks, y'all) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - spooning dp position - breast fondling + nipple play - breeding kink - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - dacryphilia - pet names ([little]dove, good girl, my wife, woman) - soft! kuna, but not too OOC - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

“Stay still, woman…Mmnnn, good girl, nice and easy…”

It’s not a rarity for Sukuna to have his hands on you as you two slept through the night. After all, he is the King of Curses; asking permission to touch his is beneath him. You were made for him to hold – sculpted for his cursed hands to touch – everyone else was far behind or had no standing compared to your demonic husband. And with you both sharing a futon every night, who’s supposed to tell him to keep his hands to himself?

You, his little spouse, knew of this. Marrying the King of Curses was something you never imagined would happen — let alone falling in love with the giant man! You’ve always had dreams of becoming a sweet little partner to someone; for that to be fulfilled by the cursed man who could kill thousands in the blink of an eye is astounding. 

And, of course, being a wife entails all the duties accompanying the package. Especially now, as you two lie together on the floor, nude bodies nestled close on the futon above the tatami floor, and your naked figure trembling from the insertion of one of Sukuna’s paired cock. And your heart drops at the second one brushing up against the crevice of your ass when he pushes the one inside your throbbing, velvety channel. 

“Mmmph…! Sukuna, no,” you whined, your butt inching away from the second member. “I can’t handle both—“

“Don’t lie; you’ve done it before and did it well,” a hand brings your waist to him. “Or maybe I should just have one of the concubines take care of me, seeing as though my own wife is neglecting their duties.” 

He wouldn’t do that; Sukuna’s interest in his insignificant mistresses had long been diminished once he took you up as his bride, practically collecting dust as he hadn’t visited them since you shared a bed with him. Now, he uses them as tools to probe you. And he has to hold back the mischievous snicker when your eyes widen with anxiousness, wrapping your arms around his neck in desperation.

“N–No, please!” You pleaded; it was the only sufficient approach. “I’ll be good to you, I promise!”

The four-eyed curse scoffs. “Then do what you’re supposed to,” Each crimson orb takes in information about your bashful expression, “And attend to your husband like a wife should.”

Further complaints cease at his command, so you quiet down and arch your behind to him submissively. Sukuna takes your initiation with his hungry bottom hand on your ass, squeezing the flesh as you guide his other dick to your lubed asshole. With a hum, he pushes himself and forces you to take his cocks with your bottom, needing a few seconds to breathe when your holes reach the base of his members.

“Good girl,” he says to your ear to make you shudder, and he lifts your leg with the hand that finished groping your asscheek. “Obeying me so well like always…”

He begins to move without a signal, slowly pulling himself in and out of your warm wetness that coats his length with your slick. You can’t help but grip the girth limbs that massage your insides, involuntarily throbbing on them with shaky breaths.  

“Mmmaah, ohhhmyG—Mmm!” Speech isn’t easy, even with his upper left hand cupping your cheeks. And your brows furrow as the upper right sneaks to grope a breast. “Faaahh, Suk..una, I’m too full already…”

“Mmm? Is that so?” Sukuna asks with a patronizing tone, licking the helix of your ear to hear you gasp. “But we’ve barely started yet, my wife. Don’t bore me before I can enjoy you yet.” 

His hips go at a gradual cadence that has you keening a mess, the sensation of the veins of his cocks felt by the walls of your holes. You howl silently, not wanting to make too much noise.

But that doesn’t fly with your husband, speaking to your ear with that hoarse voice. Almost has you melting as he squishes with your cheeks, “Let it out, princess,” he commands. “I want to hear that voice; don’t you dare hide that from me.”

Fuck, the way you felt on his dicks was so fucking good, having the cursed behemoth burrow his face into the cubby of your neck. Slow kisses on your skin segway to sucks that should mark for later. He could never get enough of how small you were up against him. His giant palm swallowed your tit, your ass bouncing with every thrust, and how damn tight you were as you accommodated the two members making your entrances busy. 

Goddamn it, he bites his lip, dialing up the speed of his ruts a bit. Scratching your inner walls has you squeaking louder, unable to stop yourself when he grinds his hips after a sudden grim pound. So warm and snug for him as if you were meant for him. He knew you were meant for him — taking his huge, fat shafts with no objections, just arching your back further so the sensation could be more pleasurable like the loyal, little pet you are. “Hmngh…! Yeah, just like that, little dove; keep clenching around me like that…”

Restraint was gone long ago, letting your voice and shrieks fly out and fill the quiet bedroom. The sound of his skin shaking against your ass, the heat of your cheeks making it hard to think, and the shivers crawling your spine with every graze to your sweet spots. Everything feels like a haze, your brain too clouded to think outside this moment. 

And then you sense the hand on your breast let go, slithering down to your unattended clitoris, which has your eyes shoot wide as your demon husband presses down. “—Khhff! Nooo, ‘Kunaa, you mustn’t…!”  

He lifts a brow with a grin; you dare question him? “And why shouldn’t I?” He pinches the delicate bud, resulting in a scream sneaking past your lips. “Hmm? Plead for yourself.”

“Becau—Ahhh! Mmmm, I’ll cum. I’m gonna cumm…”

“Then don’t,” Sukuna doesn’t remove his digits playing with your clit, and the hand on your chin pulls your face to look at him. “Cum without my permission, and I’ll make sure to not be so kind next time...” His words carry a warning filling your bones with apprehension, yet his soft lips greet yours and he hums into your mouth. The kiss serves as a distraction from his thick digits gently swiping on the pearl.

The rhythm of his hips, however, increases in speed and prompts more moans to be taken by Sukuna. Drool trickles down your lips, same with tears that welled up earlier from the insertion of his girth inside your ass. Your eyes roll at the jab to your silky walls, breaking the sweet yet passionate kiss to cry out as your husband’s fat balls smack your ass. 

“—Ooooo, fuuuck, I can’t,” your eyelids shield your vision, using the rest of your senses to indulge in this euphoric pleasure. “‘Kuna, I’m so close, so—Ooohh!”

“Me too…Ghhh! Shit, me too…” Sukuna presses his hot face to yours when you throw it back, licking the tears off your sweaty skin. You looked so stunning like this, all disheveled and immodest because of him. “Gonna take my load, huh?” He licks the sweat off your shoulder and bites when you don’t respond. “Answer me, Y/n.”

“—Ahhh, yes!”

That’s not enough. “I said,” he pinches your clit again as he gives slow yet rough ruts to your holes. And he can tell by your twitching that you’re doing everything in our power not to come. “Answer me.”

Holy shit, this was borderline torture. “Mmmph! OhhhLord, ‘Kunaaa, I want you to fill me up. Pleasee, pleasepleaseee, I wanna be full; wanna be all ‘round and fat with your child…!”

“Keh, dumb pet; who said I wanted a brat, huh?” He scoffs, yet you can hear the groan as he licks and sucks on your neck while squishing your hot, tear-stricken cheeks. “Fine then; go on and cum with me. So damn needy for my seed…”

Sukuna brings your chin for another steamy kiss, his lower left hand holding yours as his pelvis goes at an irregular pace. Your muffled shrills are taken by feisty lips, teeth clashing with his fangs before sucking on his tongue, and the upper left hand releases your chin to caress your chest once more, tweezing the nipple along with swipes to your clit.

Release gradually creeps up your shaky frame, crying to his mouth when your chasm and anus pucker around the lengths that graze your walls with the tips. Sukuna is not too far behind you, pumping his load into you with a few harsh plunges, making your contracting cunt and rear full of his hot and thick semen. The lower right hand propping your leg up leaves soft kneads on your inner thigh, hoisting it up further so his shafts are deep enough until his pulsing balls meet your ass.

You withdrew from his lips to breathe, your figure quivering through the aftershocks, and your slit and asshole still flutter around his girths. And you mewl when he kisses your cheek and temple.

“Mmm, that’s my princess,” he purrs while placing your leg down to massage your waist. “Such a good dove…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[sweetnans]

"K', new situation"

The remote was out of your reach because you kept pausing the shows, and Katsuki had enough of watching every episode like there was a connection problem.

"Hit me," he said, resting his head on the wall of your dorm.

It became a habit that you and him watched shows together at your dorm, every Thursday night, no excuse. Last week, you started watching "Queen Charlotte," and even though Katsuki didn't want to watch the show, you convinced him to give it a chance, and now, he was the one who didn't want you to pause it.

"What if...-no, no, ok, let me start over." You tripped on your questions, and Katsuki found it adorable. "Imagine this, you are royalty and someone with more power than you, force you to marry someone you don't know...are you following me?" You paused at his quizzed face.

"Yeah, I am," he simply answered.

"So they force you to marry someone you don't know and you have no interest in. What would you do?"

"Mm, I would probably cheat on her multiple times, make her so unhappy, and be a dick of a husband," he side eyed you while answering because he couldn't get his eyes off of the screen and because he wanted to watch you freaking out at his answer. He could do both.

"Are you serious?" You couldn't believe what was coming out of his mouth. "Jesus, Katsuki, what an asshole"

You stomped to his body and reached the remote to put the show on pause.

"Not again. Why do you do this to me?" He whined. He was getting upset, but you were more upset because he wasn't taking serious the situation game.

"Why are you like that? Don't you think that maybe an arrangement marriage is the perfect occasion to find true love? You obviously skipped a step, but now you have all the time in the world to know a person, the details, the way they like their tea in the morning, the things that make them upset. I think it's lovely and romantic. " You day dreamed, and Katsuki couldn't bear the fact that you and him were so different. He liked it, finding a way to make opposites attract situations happened in his life.

"I think it's opposite ends. There's only two ways to go. It's extremely good or extremely bad"

"Yeah, you're right," you gave in. He was the one who didn't believe in love after all. You've had multiple boyfriends in the span of two years, always falling for the jerks, like Katsuki always said, but you never denied the opportunity of starting over. You put the show again and sank on your spot.

Your quietness made Katsuki uncomfortable. You spent the rest of the episode without pusing the show, not for situation game or going to pee and that was very weird of you.

Before the next episode started, Katsuki himself paused it.

"You didn't like what I said," he stated looking at you.

You were dissociating, actually, you weren't mad at him, you were just thinking about him, about how you were feeling towards his feelings, you were upset because you knew that If you had feelings for him (that you already had) he wouldn't give himself a chance with you and you would be head over heels for him, making the situation unfair to you and your feelings. What you were thinking wasn't any close to the situation that you gave him. It wasn't something settled between you and him. It was more about his vision of love, the opposite ends example.

"No, it's not that it's just -" you sighed. You didn't want to make things awkward between Katsuki and you. You found a steady ground where you could enjoy each other's company without making it any weird. "I don't know, Bakugo."

He seemed astonished.

"Mm, last name basis now, huh? Must be something serious. " he moved from his seat to put his figure in front of you. "Use your words, I know you can fucking talk"

Sometimes, he called yourself for eating his ear off because you couldn't shut up. He was trying to make you feel comfortable with him again.

"See, it's just... I'm feeling kinda worried about you because I've never seen you with someone else. I want you to find love, to be happy, to face love, and dare to take a chance on someone, you know? And maybe I'm misunderstanding things here, and you don't want any of that. " You stumble through your words, taking his face in. He looked like he was thinking, but his eyes were analyzing your face like it was the first time he ever saw you. "I don't want you to think that I'm pitying you -"

"I do want to experience love," he said, glancing briefly to your lips and then your eyes. "And maybe I'm just waiting for the right one," he muttered, getting closer to you.

You were stoic in your place. Thoughts running in your head, the gears in your brain trying to figure what was happening and if it was just a dream. Maybe you were just imagining things, and now you feared to take the wrong step.

"You do?" You asked, feeling his presence in your space asking whatever came to your mind so you could have more time to think about this situation.

"Yeah, but she keeps dating assholes"

He grinned a little, trying to give away the slightest clue about his feeling but the exact amount of it so you could realize what he was saying.

For his own luck, you were pretty clever sometimes.

"Well, maybe, no one ever showed her better." You squeezed yourself between his legs while he was still sitting with his legs crossed. He parted his legs at your movement and grabbed your waist to keep you close. "I dated assholes because you were too busy demonstrating you didn't care when I dated them"

"Is that so?" He asked humming.

"Yeap," you nodded like a child, playing with your hands in your lap, concentrating in them.

"I'm sorry for not interrupting sooner," he moved his head to his side, trying to catch your eyes.

"You better be," you told him, giggling. It was an unexplored field. You were distracting yourself for the upcoming event.

"We haven't even kissed yet, and you already have an attitude with me? Get a fucking grip" he joked while taking your hands apart.

"Jeez, you should check yourself and look for the stick that's up in your asshole. You are so dense sometimes. "

You pushed him slightly, and he tugged your hands against his chest, caging you without any escape routes.

"Just shut the fuck up"

Without any warning, he crashed his lips against yours with feverish force. His grip in your hands fell so he could touch every part of your body thoroughly. Your arms clinged behind his back, closing the gap between the two of you. Your fingers touched the nape of his neck, tugging his hair every time he bit your lips.

You two were out of air, so you were forced to step back a little. His nose touched yours, and he gave you soft pecks in your lips before opening his mouth.

"No more dating assholes" he warned.

"Mmhm," you nodded, biting your lip. "You better stop acting like one then"

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[fcthots]

ive had a revelation.

Jason Todd is called "Jaybean" by y/n in front of the batboys who have no idea jay even has a WIFE (let alone someone who he isnt dangerously annoyed by) and everyone goes fucking nuts (in a cute way)

(also can I have an anon emoji bc i'm planning to be here quite a bit i'm so sorry your writing and the brainrot is just too good TvT)

I hereby name you 🧶 anon bc I clicked it on accident so it was meant to be

It's not your fault he wasn't responding to you. You just figured he was ignoring you or something, so you texted him...several times.

You: Hey do you want batburger for dinner bc if the answer is yes, I need to leave to go get it now

You: Jay

You: Babe

You: I will drive all the way there to get just my order out of spite

You: Baby

You: Ok it's been like ten minutes, I really need to know

You: Red

You: Jason

You: Answer your phone

You: It's been like 25 minutes. I don't care about the food. Are you ok?

You: Ok you're starting to freak me out now, you were supposed to be back like 15 minutes ago

You: Jason, sweetheart

You: Love

You: Shnookums

You: Pookie

You: Jaybean?

You: Jason Peter Todd if you don't pick up the phone, I will divorce you

Your phone starts ringing. It's Jason. Something feels...off. A phone call?

You ignore your questions and pick up the phone. "WHERE IN THE EVER-LOVING FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?"

"Oh" That was not your husbands voice. What the fuck?

"um.. hello?"

"Who is this?"

"This is-... Wait. You're the one with my husband's phone. Who is THIS?"

"Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. HUSBAND?"

"Who the fuck is this? Where is Jason?"

The man on the other end of the phone starts laughing. He's whispering the several other people. It lasts far longer than it should. "Um. This his brother, Dick."

"Hey, fuck you, asshole. You're the one with Jason's phone. Don't call me a dick-."

"That's my name. Dick is my name."

"...Oh"

"Jason is uhhh asleep right now. Yeah. He's... He was really tired. He's taking a nap."

"A nap? Can you wake him up?"

"...no"

"no?"

"..."

"Did he get his shit rocked by Croc again?"

"WHAT"

[science-lings]

Gotta love the Ace Attorney Found Family model of

-Adopted Father Figure who is kind of a dramatic cryptic asshole who is secretly pulling the strings to everything, simultaneously very stupid and very smart (Phoenix and Sholmes)

-His adopted daughter who is scarily competent and the actual breadwinner (Trucy and Iris)

-The guy in his twenties who she adopted into the family without his consent, he is trying his best to do his job but everyone around him is kind of a mess (Apollo and Ryunosuke)

-Father Figure's long-distance husband, his perfect other half, his partner, and sole owner of the braincell (Edgeworth and Yujin)

-Father Figure's Long Distance Husband's Daughter who is probably committing a crime but with good intentions and could probably beat anyone up (Kay and Susato)

-Adoptive brother's boyfriend who serves cunt and has psychological issues (Klavier and Kazuma)

-The Sapphic Little Detective that they found on the street who has been acquitted of all murder charges (Ema and Gina)

-Adopted Daughters secret blood relative who is mostly absent (Thalassa and Barok)

-Dog (Pess and Toby)

-Cat (Mikeko and Wagahai)

It's the perfect format really...

[captain-hawks]

double shift

— kento nanami x f!reader

summary: Kento Nanami hates overtime, but who is he to say no when his boss asks him to go check on his wife while he's out of town?

word count: 4.2k

content: NSFW, 18+, smut, infidelity, heavy lactation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms, degradation, dirty talk, squirting, breeding kink, restraints, counter sex, wet & messy

Kento’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he stares at his phone nestled in the cupholder, limbs taut with aggravation as the bored voice of his boss continues on, “She hasn’t been answering my calls all day, and I’m not flying back for another week yet. I know you’re probably about to leave the office, but I’m going to need you to stop at my house and check on her first, Nanami.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, the words ‘OVERTIME’ flashing red behind his eyes and drawing forth a fresh surge of anger that has him contemplating the consequences of smashing his phone on the pavement outside and finding a new job entirely.

Today has been shit.

Capital S, Shit.

His asshole boss has been out of town for nearly a week already, every client is somehow ten times more unbearable than usual, the incompetence across the office has become a goddamn disease, and he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that that piece of shit is doing anything  but keeping his dick in his pants while his wife and their new baby are left home alone.

His very attractive, very lovely wife who probably has no idea what a waste of oxygen her husband is. 

You’re too fucking good for him.

And you’re also too good for Kento, who’s spent more nights than he’d care to admit furiously fisting his cock to the memory of whatever tantalizing outfit you’d turned up at the office wearing that day.

And seeing you pregnant?

While the knowledge that you were now entirely stuck with that undeserving asshole sent his blood boiling, Kento could hardly complain about the sight of you during those months, his shaft straining painfully in his slacks every time he laid eyes upon your gloriously swollen, heavy breasts. 

And the cum he splattered all over the mirror and sink after inevitably rushing out of his office when you finally left? Well, that was between him and the four walls of the men’s bathroom. 

So after the awful day he’s already had, Kento’s not sure he can imagine a worse type of overtime than waltzing into your house and playing the part of a dutiful employee checking in on his boss’s wife, acting like he doesn’t want to fuck you so bad it’s driving him up a goddamn wall.

But he’ll fucking do it.

Of course he will. 

“Sure,” he replies tersely, before hanging up and peeling out of the parking lot.

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

She’s finally asleep.

Sighing weakly in relief, you close the door to your daughter’s bedroom and shuffle down the hallway. You make it all the way to the kitchen before you’re forced to lean heavily against the countertop, gritting your teeth as another wave of discomfort radiates from your sore, swollen breasts. 

“Hello?” a familiar, male voice tentatively calls out in a hushed tone.

You whip around, still clutching the counter for support, eyes widening at the side of Kento Nanami standing in the doorway to your kitchen. 

“Hi?” you respond, your heart doing a somersault as you drink in the sight of his tall, muscled form. 

He twirls a key around his finger twice before catching it in the palm of his hand and stuffing it in his pocket. “I apologize for barging in, but your spare key hiding spot is shit, and I didn’t want to ring the doorbell and wake the baby.”

“It’s okay, Nanami,” you assure him, the erratic thrumming in your chest far from a feeling of fear.

For whatever reason, he appears to be attempting to avert his eyes after glancing over at you quickly, roughly running a hand through his hair. “Your husband asked me to check on you. He said he hasn’t heard from you all day,” he explains carefully. 

“Well, I figured it would be rude to interrupt the wild orgies he pays for with the company credit card,” you deadpan.

Nanami’s jaw ticks, “He—”

“I’m well aware of what he does.”

“Then why—”

“Because I realized too late, and I’m too tired to do anything about it right now,” you sigh, wincing at the continuous ache of your breasts.

And it’s then that you realize why Nanami’s been looking anywhere but at you directly.

You’re wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and knee-high socks, which in and of itself isn’t overtly reprehensible, given that you’re in your own house, you have a four-month-old child, and you can’t remember the last time you got a full night’s rest. The issue is that your breasts are so sore and tender right now, you haven’t been able to even look at a bra in days. 

Which, once again, wouldn’t be an issue alone in the privacy of your home…when one of your husband’s employees isn’t desperately trying not to acknowledge the fact that two large wet spots have soaked through your shirt. 

“I should…” you trail off awkwardly, glancing around the room in hopes that you left one of your flannel over shirts lying within reach. 

“It’s fine,” Nanami blurts out, scratching the back of his head and studiously feigning interest in the collection of party invites and shopping lists stuck to the side of your fridge. 

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

It’s not fine. 

It’s anything but fine. 

It’s a complete fucking disaster. 

Kento hasn’t seen you since you gave birth. And despite how exhausted he knows you are—he can see it in the bags under your eyes and the limpness of your posture— your soft pregnancy glow has transformed into a postpartum radiance that has his breath catching in his throat each time his eyes sweep over you. 

You’re fucking stunning. 

And somehow, he knows your husband hasn’t noticed this. Hasn’t told you how incredible you are, how fantastic motherhood looks on you. It sends a fresh wave of anger coursing through him, the mere thought that he could bear to let himself stray from you—especially now, at such a vulnerable time. 

But any hopes Kento had of trying not to commit this sight of you to memory were swiftly dashed the moment he noticed the wet spots on your shirt. 

Even now, when he’s looking at a box of cereal on the counter as if it’s the most interesting thing in the entire world, every layer of his inner psyche is rapidly overheating at the thought of your heavy, swollen breasts. The milk leaking from them, soaking through your clothes and inevitably trailing down your stomach. 

He needs to fucking leave. Now. 

“I should go—“

“—do you want some tea?”

You both speak at the same time, and when Kento turns to face you again, you’ve slipped a blue flannel shirt on, buttoning it up partway. As if his traitorous cock will somehow forget what he now knows is obscured underneath the added layer of material. But despite the growing discomfort swelling and throbbing against the zipper of his pants, he concedes, his need to quell the apparent loneliness in your eyes with a moment of company winning out over his lust-addled desire to disappear to the nearest private place to jerk off. 

He’s thankful to sit after you pour him a cup, hiding any and all evidence of what a terrible man he is beneath the table, one leg idly bouncing as he wills his hard on to go down. It’s a big ask, though, given that you’re probably not even aware of what you’re doing to him when you lean your body over the kitchen island with your mug clutched between your fingers as you idly chat with him, your oversized shirt just barely masking the flash of pink panties it reveals beneath each time your shoulders bounce as you laugh. 

He’s two seconds from excusing himself to put his fucking dick in the freezer. 

His chair scrapes against the tile floor as he pushes it back, having decided he’s at his limit, but he pauses when a pained sound escapes your lips. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, hurrying over to where you’re now pressing your forehead against the island countertop, whimpering softly. His hand hovers for a moment before he opts to gently touch your shoulder, just to let you know he’s there. 

Your fingers scrape over the marble as you breathe out in a quiet voice, “No.”

As if on instinct, Kento begins to rub small, comforting circles into your upper back, his tentative touches growing more confident when he feels your tense body behind to relax slightly. 

“What’s wrong? What can I do?”

You whine again, standing up straighter but keeping your back to him as you clutch at your chest. “They…they hurt so bad.”

Kento’s halfway certain his soul has left his body as he watches, stunned, while you slide your hands up under your shirt and squeeze at your breasts, exhaling a chorus of breathy little sounds like the fucked up cherry on top. 

“Do you need to…” he trails off, and though you can’t see from where he’s standing behind you, he vaguely gestures in the general direction where he can only surmise the baby’s room is. 

“It’s…they’re clogged,” you whisper, elbows lifting up and revealing the small of your back as you begin to knead your tits desperately. “They’ve been so sore and swollen for days.”

Kento bites his lower lip, mentally steadying himself for a moment before he asks, “Tell me how I can help.”

“Can you grab a clean washcloth out of the drawer next to the sink and soak it in hot water?”

He swiftly complies with your request, returning moments later after wringing out the small towel and waiting for it to cool down slightly. You’re still using the counter to steady yourself, so he approaches you from behind and goes to hand you the washcloth, only to find his hand immediately pinned between your own and one of your breasts. 

You let out a whimpering cry of relief, and it takes everything in him not to let out the noise rumbling in his own throat as you squeeze his hand over your tit. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimper. “It just feels so…”

“It’s okay,” Kento murmurs. “Relax.”

Internally, every single warning bell inside of his head is blaring indignantly over the fact that he’s got his hand under his boss’s wife’s shirt, and he’s massaging her lactating breasts with a hot towel while she whimpers and presses into his touch. 

But your fingers are laced with his, and you’re not telling him to stop. 

In fact, you’re begging him to keep going, keeping a hold of his left hand when he switches the towel to his right, urging him to massage both of your tits at the same time. And who is he to tell you no?

Kento’s fairly certain his balls are going to be aching for days when he feels the warm liquid that begins to coat his fingers.

Fucking fuck. 

What the fuck is he doing?

Then your back arches as you outright moan when he brazenly toys with both of your nipples at the same time, milk squirting out, your ass pressing directly into his throbbing erection. 

And fuck it, fuck dignity, because Kento’s on the verge of coming in his pants. 

But then you spin around to face him, your back pressed into the island as you gaze at him shyly and say, “I…I think I need more.”

Your eyes flick from his mouth back down to your breasts, and he cups the side of your face as he asks, “Are you sure?”

You nod, slipping your shirt off entirely and tossing it aside, and Kento’s mouth goes dry as he stares at the trails of milk leaking from your tits, wondering how he’d ever thought to call today ‘Shitty’. 

He motions toward the counter, his large hands grasping your waist to help you get seated up on top of it, fingertips hesitant to pull away from your lacy panties when he spies the wet spot over your cunt. 

Kento has never thought of himself as a greedy man. Far from it, actually. 

But the moment his mouth latches onto one of your hot, swollen breasts, pulling a shameless moan from your pretty lips as your thighs wrap around him, the sweet taste of your milk hitting his tongue, he feels fucking insatiable. 

His mind is a buzz of static as he drinks from your tits, all the blood in his body rushing to his cock, precum soaking through his boxers and slacks. Your fingers tangle in his hair, the heel of your foot pressing into his back and pulling him closer, and he groans, one hand grasping your upper thigh as he teases your nipples between his teeth and squeezes a spray of liquid onto his gluttonous tongue. 

“Feels so good, Nanami,” you whine, fingertips sliding down the front of his dress shirt, catching on each button.  

“Kento,” he exhales, licking up the milk dripping down your chest. 

“Kento,” you moan, tugging hard on the tousled blond strands that have fallen onto his forehead. 

And at the sound of your breathy, wrecked tone moaning out his name for the first time, every nerve ending in Kento’s body goes up in flames. 

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Nothing has ever felt this good. 

Nothing. 

Kento Nanami’s sinful mouth is latched onto your heavy, engorged tits, greedily drinking every spurt of breast milk that comes leaking out of you, the flow growing steadier with each lap and squeeze. 

He has no fucking clue that most of your impromptu visits to the office are actually to see him. To talk to him, if only for a few moments. Kento Nanami, who has always treated you with unfailing kindness under his sometimes brash exterior. Who extends more patience toward you than all of his coworkers combined. 

He has no idea how trapped you feel in your marriage, how often you’ve longed for the bland touch of your husband in bed to be his. 

He doesn’t know how many times you’ve brought yourself over the edge with your fingers with his face lingering in your mind, the rough, teasing sound of words you’ve imagined in his voice playing out in your head like the most sinful soundtrack you’ve ever heard. 

And now he’s grunting and moaning as he makes a mess of both of you, his lips and chin gleaming with the same wet, sticky milk that’s all over your chest and thighs and his hands and pooling on the countertop beneath you. 

It’s filthy.

It’s so fucking filthy. 

And maybe it’s wrong. 

But you’re so desperate for him. For this. You need more. You need it so badly, you can hardly breathe. Searing desire is coiled so tightly in your abdomen, you’re trembling with restraint, aching with the desire to beg him to fuck you. You know he wants it, too, though. It’s hard to miss the thick, mouth-watering outline of his cock straining against his pants, like a beacon waiting to fulfill your darkest desires. 

It’s a line you know he won’t cross unless you ask for it. 

“Kento,” you murmur again, pulling his face up to meet yours. 

“Mmm?” he asks, pupils blown wide with lust, and you can tell he’s slightly dazed, drunk off of the taste of the milk leaking from your tits. 

You lean closer, letting your lips hover over his, Kento’s breath mingling with your own as you whisper, “Please touch me.”

He gently pushes your thighs further apart, carefully running a finger over the front of your panties. His voice is a rough, gravelly sound as he asks, “Here?”

A thrill shoots up your spine at the feather-light touch. “Yes.”

“More?” he questions, his lips brushing against your mouth as he hooks a finger in your underwear and pulls them aside. 

“More,” you keen, bucking into him as his knuckles graze your clit. 

He slides a finger through your folds, visibility shuddering as he comments, “You’re so fucking wet.”

“For you,” you pant, trying to resist the urge to shamelessly start riding his hand. 

Kento’s mouth engulfs yours in a rough, hungry kiss at the same moment he slides a thick digit into your cunt, and he swallows down the whimpering cry of pleasure that spills out of you. His lips are relentless as they slot against yours, and you arch into him, every part of your body drawn to his blazing touch on your skin. 

You can taste the remnants of your breastmilk on Kento’s lips, but you don’t care as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you so deeply it makes your toes curl, one hand cradling the back of your head while he stuffs a second finger into your hole. 

And just when you thought you couldn’t get any more sensitive under his touch, he dips his head back down to continue ravishing your forgotten breasts, pumping his soaked fingers in and out of your pussy all the while. 

“Kento,” you whimper, chest heaving as you press your heels into the cabinets below, every muscle in your body going taut under the onslaught of arousal coursing through you. 

“Can you come for me?” he asks, his gravelly, barely restrained tone searing itself into your mind. 

It’s the combination of his thumb massaging circles into your sensitive bundle of nerves and the sight of milk dripping down his chin as he messily drinks from you that sends you tumbling over the edge, the rubber band inside of you snapping like a whip as your orgasm washes over you. There’s an unfamiliar feeling that accompanies it, clear liquid squirting from your cunt and soaking the front of Kento’s dress shirt. 

Kento’s eyes darken a fraction as he grasps your chin, thumb pressing into your bottom lip. “Good girl,” he murmurs, kissing you. “Good fucking girl.”

Hand reaching between your bodies, you grasp his cock through his slacks, marveling at how maddeningly thick he feels. 

“I want you to fuck me now, Kento,” you tell him in no uncertain terms, rubbing your palm up and down his erection for good measure. “Fuck me like I’m a bad girl.”

Kento growls, hand palming the side of your neck, thumb caressing your collarbones, “You have no fucking clue what you do to me.”

“Show me.”

You’ve hardly had a chance to unbutton his pants before he’s slipping your panties down, stuffing them into his pocket. His hands come up to undo his tie, but rather than tossing the silky material aside, he asks, “Do you trust me?”

You nod in response, and he steps around the island, pulling your hands behind your back and tying your wrists together snugly with the yellow and black material. Anticipation zings through your chest, a fresh wave of arousal dripping from your sensitive cunt. 

“Is that too tight?”

You shake your head. “It’s perfect.”

He wastes no time in shedding the rest of his clothes, and you find yourself pressing hard against the restraints once you see his cock in all its glory, thick and flushed and so fucking big that you whimper.  

You spread your legs wide for him again as he steps between them, rubbing the leaking head of his cock against your damp slit. He notches it at your entrance, tilting your chin to his mouth and dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”

Kento’s hands grasp your hips as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance, slowly easing into you. He massages your breasts, his hot mouth nipping and lapping a trail from your shoulder to the sensitive spot behind your earlobe while he pushes deeper into your cunt. When he eventually bottoms out, you’re both breathing hard, and his tie is fighting for its life to keep your wrists bound behind you. 

“Are you okay?” 

You let out a huff of air, your entire body poised to implode with the weight of the lust and pleasure raging inside of you. “Fuck me like you mean it, Kento.”

Whatever thinly veiled restraint was left in him crumbles to dust at your request, and Kento tugs you closer to the edge of the counter as he begins to pound into your cunt at a ruthless pace, splitting you open right in the middle of your kitchen. The cool marble is slick and sticky beneath you, covered in a myriad of filthy fluids that continue to leak out of you. 

“So beautiful,” he grunts, punctuating each word with a rough snap of his hips. 

“I feel like a whore,” you admit, biting your lower lip, tits bouncing heavily with his punishing thrusts. 

A short, dark laugh escapes Kento’s lips, his brows raising. He leans in, stuffing his cock deep into your cunt as he presses his mouth to yours and murmurs, “Well you’re my pretty, filthy whore.”

If your husband talked to you like this, you’d slap him. But from Kento…the liquid heat that churns in your belly is anything but anger. 

“Am I?” you ask, trying to sound as innocent as you can when he’s balls deep inside of you. 

“Yeah,” he rasps, not missing a beat as he catches on to what you want to hear. He squeezes your tits, milk squirting everywhere. “My dirty slut. You’re such a good girl, making a such a fucking mess. Squirting all over me while your tits leak everywhere.”

You gasp as he leans down, burying his face in your tits, latching on to one of your nipples and drinking deeply from you again. The combined feeling of him sucking on your breasts and the push and drag of his shaft inside of you leaves you cock drunk, begging and babbling senselessly as tears of pleasure prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Wanna put another baby in you, keep these nice and round and full for me,” he grunts, letting milk spray from your tits and leak down your bodies, dripping down his cock and coating his balls. 

The thought leaves you dizzy and breathless, keening as you imagine Kento filling you over and over with his seed. Waking up each morning to his cock already stuffed inside of you, fucking the previous night’s cum right back into your needy cunt. Tying you up to your bed posts with that goddamn tie. The satisfaction on his face when your breasts grow heavy and your belly grows round again for him, awakening something so feral inside of him he’s incapable of keeping his mouth off of your tits and his cock from the heat between your thighs whenever you’re alone. 

Rational thinking is a thing of the past as you choke out, nearly sobbing with pleasure, cunt squelching wetly as he pounds into you, “Fill me, Kento. Please.”

Kento curses, leaning in to caress the side of your face as he mutters, “My filthy girl.”

“Yours,” you pant. “I’m yours.”

He captures your mouth in a deep, heated kiss, fingers grasping your hips for purchase as he plunges into your cunt, drawing shuddering, unabashed moans out of you. “Come all over my cock then,” he instructs, his rough tone dragging down your spine, fingers toying with your clit while your pussy clenches down on every inch of him. 

And when he leans down, holding eye contact with you as he licks up a forgotten trail of milk rolling down one of your tits, there’s nothing that can stop the searing explosion of pleasure that ignites inside of you, your entire body trembling with the relentless, burning hot flood of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 

He follows moments after you, driving his length in to the hilt as he groans, fingers gripping you tightly, his thick cock pulsing heavily inside of you as he fills your cunt deeply with ropes of cum. As fucked out as you feel, you can’t help but whine at the ceaseless arousal that stirs within your gut as your pussy quivers around the stretch of his cock, milking every drop of Kento’s seed from him. 

Kento feels you subtly rocking your hips back into him, and his answering chuckle is like warm honey as he reaches between you. He plays with your overstimulated clit, pressing gentle kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as his seed begins to leak out of you. You moan softly, head falling against his shoulder, pleasure mounting inside of you once more. Leveraging what remains of his softening cock, he slowly fucks his cum back inside of you, his rough whispers of praise a warm caress against the shell of your ear as your entire body dissolves into one last blissful climax that leaves you completely boneless. 

You have all of two minutes to bask in the afterglow, Kento’s hands and lips tenderly mapping out your body, when the sound of your phone ringing on the countertop beside you startles you both. Your gaze meets his as you both see the unwelcome name that flashes on the screen, and he promptly flips your phone over and scoops you into his arms as he makes his way toward the living room.

“If I’m working overtime, I’m making this a double shift.”

— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

[some-bunniii]

My Charming Red Savior [3]

・❥ You finally meet Alastor’s friends, only to then find your tea party rudely interrupted by an angry mob.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

x: no use of y/n.

~ 7.9k words

warnings: adult themes

“Um…hi?”

The group of demons scooted a few steps closer to you, anxious to get a better look at the unfamiliar face in front of them. Their expressions were mixed, suspicion, excitement, confusion. Their eyes scanned up and down your figure, and you suddenly felt awfully self-conscious.

You leaned back slightly from the onlookers, as much as Alastor’s hold on you would allow. His arm was snaked around your elbow, locking you in place, which was the only comfort in this very strange little world.

The Hazbin Hotel, just like that Imp and Alastor had described to you earlier in the day. The question is, how did you get here, exactly?

These demons didn’t seem unfriendly, or cruel. They just seemed shocked to see you here, most likely the same feelings you’re experiencing right now.

Did Alastor do that? He must have, but how? Through the ring?

And, what about your money, purse, wallet, and keys? Did that asshole run off with them after you vanished? You held back the urge to sigh, what a day.

“Alastor, mind explaining who this is?” The gray, shorter lady in front asked, arms crossed as she regarded you cautiously with a single eye.

Alastor only grinned mischievously, a small chuckle escaping his lips, before turning his gaze towards you. He tugged you forward gently, and your back straightened as you smiled widely.

“Well, isn’t it obvious with that charming smile? She’s my wife!”

Silence. Utter silence, so silent in fact, you swore you could hear gunshots ringing from a few blocks away.

Your eyebrows shot up, heat creeping on your cheeks as you processed his words. You side-eyed him, a question behind your glance.

Is he serious?

The platinum-blonde-haired woman's mouth dropped open, her eyes glimmering. That gray lady only reeled back slightly, eyeing both you and Alastor with even more suspicion.

“Whaaaaaa..?” The pink spider demon quirked an eyebrow, his gaze darting to a much shorter black-and-white feline man, who shot him a confused expression right back. The tiny Cyclops lady only jumped in place giddily, her hands to her mouth in glee.

It wasn’t until you felt a rumbling beside you, did you turn to find Alastor laughing, his shoulders shaking as he put a hand to his mouth.

The even more shocked faces in the crowd faltered, as they watched Alastor collect himself.

“Ah, to see your faces like this is quite amusing.” Alastor chuckled, taking a claw and lifting it to his eye to wipe a false tear.

“Real funny.” The winged cat grumbled, rolling his eyes. The woman in the red suit seemed to deflate, a frown on her lips. She looked like she was genuinely sad by the news. A similar pang hit your heart, before shaking it off. Right, he wasn’t your husband. It was just an act. You knew this, so why did you feel this way?

You heard Alastor clear his throat, before gesturing to you once more. “This darling belle before you is here because.. she is interested in redemption through the hotel!”

Huh? When in the world did that thought ever cross your mind? Your head snapped to him, and you caught the mischievous glint in his eye as the platinum-blonde lady in front of you beamed, the sparkle in her eyes almost blinding you as she bounced on her toes.

“Really?!” She squealed, before crossing the distance between the two of you. She leaned down slightly, meeting your gaze. “Hello! My name is Charlie, and this is my hotel! Although, I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about it already."

Oh, this must be that daughter of the imp. The one that appeared before you before the store you worked at had opened, the one that told you his daughter owned the Hazbin Hotel. She didn’t look like an imp, though. You shook that thought off for a moment as she conversed with you.

“Not really,” you confessed, “I only know about you through Alastor.”

“Well, I’d be pleased to show you around and give you all the information you need to make a decision.” Charlie reached out her hand, a welcoming gesture. You hesitated before your eyes flicked up to Alastor, a thousand questions in your gaze.

But, what about your things? Why were you suddenly thrust into this situation? When were you going to get an explanation of how exactly you got here?

‘Go along with it, we’ll talk later.’ Alastor’s eyes seemed to speak, behind that charming grin. Just like it did the first time you met him. At least, you hoped that was what he was saying. You were going to talk to him no matter what, anyway.

You slipped your arm from his hold and grasped Charlie’s hand, and she tugged you beside her as she walked towards the group of demons. You felt a bit nervous as you approached them, seeing as their eyes had been on you since the moment you landed in their lobby.

“These two are our residents at the hotel! This is Sir. Pentious.” Charlie gestured to the tall snake demon, his hood covered his face slightly as he smiled bashfully.

“It’sssss a pleassure to meet you, my dear!” He said, clasping his hands together, and you smiled warmly in return. Sir. Pentious seemed like a respectful, modest demon. A rare gem. He reminded you of Alastor but with a flare of innocence to him. Or, at least, less murderous.

Charlie turned slightly towards that taller, fuzzy spider dressed rather scantily. “And, this is Angel Dust. He was our first guest when we originally opened!”

“How ya’ doin’, toots?” He winked at you, that golden tooth catching your eye as it shimmered in the warm lighting. He seemed to exude an air of confidence and charm that attracted attention effortlessly. At least, he was the first person to catch your eye when you materialized in front of them. It might just have been the bright pink fuzz, though.

“This is Husk… Niffty… Vaggie…” Charlie continued, introducing you to the rest of the staff. You stood beside her, patiently waiting for it to be over so you could speak to Alastor. Who was standing a ways behind you, no doubt tracing your figure as you slowly met each member. Finally, when you had finished greetings, Charlie turned to you. “I think it’s time we do a little tour of the hotel, get you familiar with everything!”

Your smile faltered for a moment. Right, you weren’t totally done yet. As much as you wanted to learn more about where you just dropped into, you had a very, very long day. Your plush, weighted covers that were sitting patiently back at home were calling to you. Still, Charlie turned towards the opposite side of the room, before glancing behind and beckoning you to follow. You obliged, keeping pace with her as she began to speak.

She guided you through multiple different locations, the kitchen, the lounge, and the bar. Soon, you were walking down a long hallway, rows of doors facing both sides of you. Were all these rooms vacant? Seemed like the hotel wasn’t very popular, though you weren’t surprised.

It wasn't until you entered a large sub-room, with a very lavish mahogany-wood staircase, that you stopped in your tracks and looked at the large frame hanging above you. Splashes of color filled your vision as you gazed at a large painting on the opposite side of the stairs. It depicted a large glistening, blue lake nestled in a sunny clearing around rows and rows of lush trees. At the edges of the lapping waves, fawns danced with small winged children in fields of sunlit flowers. Some held their hands to their mouths, giggling in joy as they frolicked carefree in the afternoon breeze.

You gawked at the painting for a few more moments, your eyes tracing the perfect lines and forms of each figure. The wings of the angels looked like actual feathers, carefully crafted through paint tools by a skilled hand.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Charlie swooned beside you, gazing up at the portrait. You nodded slowly in response, it was a very beautiful painting. Is that what Heaven looked like? If that was the case, you didn't mind giving redemption a try anymore.

“Who made this?”

“One of our staff here, they are our newest addition to the crew! I’d introduce the two of you, but they’re attending an art show tonight. An auction, I think. I’m sure you two would get along great, though!”

Yes, maybe you’d like that. Charlie continued on her path, as you rounded a corner into another hallway, the lights of the lobby off in the distance. You exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. You could finally speak to Alastor about the questions reeling in your head.

When you entered the lobby, the rest of the crew had dispersed. Angel Dust was lounging at the bar, offering Vaggie a drink who declined it curtly. Husker was growling something to Niffty, who was attempting to stab a bug atop the bar counter.

Alastor hadn’t followed you on that tour, instead, you found him leaning comfortably against the side of a wall. He stood there, a microfiber cloth in one hand and his red-tinted monocle in the other. Gingerly, he brushed the cloth across the small surface, wiping it clean of any imperfections.

It wasn’t until his gaze lifted and met yours, that the cloth vanished from his hand, and he adjusted the monocle back on his face. He straightened, resting slightly against his cane as the two of you approached him.

“So, what do you think?” Charlie pivoted to face you, a large smile on her lips. She looked so hopeful, and you did not want to say anything to hurt her feelings. You glanced at Alastor, who stood a little ways behind Charlie. His eyes were unreadable, that small smile of no help. Great, you were on your own with this one.

“Well, I think the hotel is very pretty.” You responded slowly, choosing your words carefully as you spoke.

“What about staying here?” Charlie leaned in slightly closer, bouncing on her toes as she beamed at you.

“Um, about that, It’s a nice offer and all but…” Charlie’s face dropped, her eyes glistening as she visibly deflated before your eyes. You grimaced, before taking a step closer, apologetically waving your hands. “But, I’m just pretty exhausted right now, so I think a good night's sleep will allow me to give you a better answer.”

Charlie perked at that. Even if it wasn't a ‘yes’ it was still better than your full rejection. She nodded, “That works with me!”

“Wonderful!” A voice buzzed behind Charlie before Alastor appeared next to her. He turned to the apple-cheeked woman, before widening his grin. “It seems like our new friend is rather tired, so I will do the honors and show them to their room.”

Wait, room? As in, here at the hotel? That was not your original plan, but, if it meant you were finally able to speak with the red demon, so be it.

Charlie agreed, before waving farewell to you and joining Vaggie on the couch. You turned to face Alastor, and he offered you his arm. You felt like ignoring it for a moment, and just walking beside him. Some kind of payback for suddenly dumping you here and into the arms of strangers.

After a moment, you sighed in defeat and laced your arm with his. He turned you to a second hallway and began to lead you down the winding corridor. After you were out of earshot, Alastor cleared his throat beside you, before turning his head slightly to face you.

“I’m surprised to see you here so soon, my dear. I knew you’d appear eventually, with how easily trouble seems to find you.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear how I even got here in the first place.” You replied sternly, prodding him for an explanation.

“Why, the ring of course!” He spoke, gesturing to your bare finger. “I embedded it with magic that would take you to safety if you were ever to be manhandled again while I am not present.”

You were silent for a moment, contemplating his words. Alastor put some kind of spell on the ring to protect you? Had that been there since he originally placed it on your finger? Now you were beginning to understand the strange words he said back in the tailoring room when he mentioned the ring being a charm for good luck. Heat began to creep on your cheeks, as you realized how offly sweet that was of him.

“Well, then I suppose I must thank you. If it weren’t for you, I may have gotten more than just my money and bag taken.”

“Ah, so that is what it was. Well, you don’t need to worry any longer, my dear. This hotel is safe from any kind of danger.” He patted your hand assuringly as you walked, “Which is why I only offered the idea back there, as I believe it benefits you more than anyone here.”

Alastor did all this because he cared about your well-being? The ring, the teleportation, living here, the killing. All for you. Even, your “relationship” with him was just that. Your mind went back to when he had laughed in the lobby, like the thought of being with you was that big of a joke to tell all his friends. He could have just not said anything! And yet, he acted so gentle and kind to you, even asking for your permission to kill your boss, just for asking you on a date!

Sure, you’ve only met Alastor like, what, twice? So, you weren’t expecting such a serious step in a relationship to be taken so fast, nor anything similar. But, there was no way Alastor had been doing all this out of the kindness of his heart, he’s the Radio Demon.

There had to be a real reason. He hasn’t even communicated his feelings on the matter, does he expect you to read every thought behind his gaze? You frowned, irritation setting on your face.

“I’m surprised you did all this,” you start, taking a slight step away from Alastor as you slip your arm out of his hold, continuing to keep pace with his footsteps, “seeing as you think what I have experienced this past week is so funny.”

Alastor halted in his tracks, and you were jerked slightly as you were pulled back from the hold on his arm. He turned his head to you, his ears flattened slightly as he searched your gaze. He tapped his claws against his cane, fast and erratic as he observed you.

“Are you referring to what I said when I introduced you?” He questioned slowly, That smile creeping a little higher as he tried to keep up the charm. You crossed your arms, attempting a stern stance as you took another step back.

“Yes, I didn’t exactly expect to be the punchline to your dismissive jokes.”

“My intentions were not to make light of recent events, I can assure you,” Alastor cleared his throat, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips, “I simply wanted to gauge their reaction to such a statement, as I’ve spoken before, one must always be prepared for every situation. And, you must stop referring to them as my ‘friends’, I hardly know them.”

You didn’t have time to process his strange words before Alastor reached an arm out towards you, beckoning for you to take his hand. You only hesitated a second before crumbling, your fingers brushing softly against Alastor’s palm as he lifted your hand towards him. With one digit, he traced up your ring finger, before settling just above your knuckle. You hitched your breath, watching as a string of green light wrapped around your finger. It thickened, before a light green cloud of smoke poured from the light. Leaning down, Alastor lightly blew against your finger, and the smoke dispersed. Your eyes widened when that familiar, golden band began to glint against the hallway lights.

“There, now do you see? My words have been nothing but truthful, my doe.”

His fingers stayed on your hand a little longer, brushing softly against your knuckles, before he withdrew. You pulled your hand closer, twisting your finger until you could see it, that little rose-gold A etched onto the ring’s surface. A warm smile crept onto your lips as you inspected it. You kind of missed the feeling of it snuggled against your skin.

“Well, when you put it like that...” you trailed off, and Alastor grinned widely, accepting your response with a grin as he sidled close to you, motioning to the door in front of him. You turned, your eyes landing on the small 7 etched in gold against the wood. Was this your room?

“Am I staying here?” You questioned, turning to Alastor.

“Preferably, and it is a short distance from my room. Should you ever acquire my assistance, of course.”

“Where is your room?”

Alastor turned, one claw pointed directly across the little hallway towards a replica of your door. Okay.. his room was literally ten feet from you, he wasn’t playing when he said it was a “short” distance. Were you complaining, though?

Suddenly, a yawn overcame you, and your hand lifted to shield your gaping mouth as you sighed softly. God, you were awfully exhausted, mentally and physically. Alastor watched you rub your eyes, before he softened, that smile fading just a tad as his eyes glanced at the clock hung on the wall near your door.

“It seems like it has gotten late, I apologize for keeping you from your beauty sleep.” He bowed his head respectfully to you, withdrawing closer into the shadows. “I do hope you’ll consider the offer of staying at the hotel, better than the neighborhoods crawling with thugs back in the city.”

You nodded, smiling at him as your fingers snaked around the door handle. “I will think about it, don’t worry. I did find some interest in Charlie’s words when we went on that tour.”

“Wonderful. I bid you a good night then, my doe.”

You twisted the handle, backing slowly into the shaded room. You sent a small wave, smiling at him as you shut the door. Your surroundings were drenched in darkness, and you placed your forehead against the cool, wooden frame. You sighed, letting your muscles come loose finally in the quiet of your private domain.

Wow, what a day.

You awoke the next morning, dark circles under your eyes as you groaned sleepily from the rays of morning light hitting your face. The plush white covers slid around you, a large pillow in your hold as you pulled it close to your chest. You snuggled your face deeper into it, intent on falling back into blissful dreams.

Except, nothing came. Your brain just kept prodding you to wake, to rise from the warmth of your makeshift nest and greet the day.

‘To greet Alastor!’ It whispered excitedly, and you stirred again.

What time was it? Waking in a room different from yours always throws off your sleep schedule. Turning your head slightly, you eyed the digital clock on the bedside table. It was seven in the morning, you had slept for almost ten hours. Impressive.

Slowly, you rose from the bed, your arms lifting above your head as you took a big stretch. Yawning, you pivoted, your feet landing on the cold, unfamiliar wood floor.

You sat there for a moment, your eyelids lifting slowly as you let yourself wake naturally.

What was your plan today? It seemed like Alastor insisted on you staying at the hotel, as well as Charlie. But, you had a place of your own. One that you rented, but with all your stuff nonetheless.

You still had a job, but seeing as the Hazbin Hotel provided everything of necessity for free, it wouldn’t hurt to lessen your load and start working part-time. Plus, less Alan. Yay!

Maybe, you’d go home later, collect what you needed and come back. You could even see if Alastor would do his little teleportation trick, it wasn’t so bad being pulled around like that if it cut your travel time to only a few seconds.

It seemed like this was your new room too, which wasn’t so bad. There was a bathroom, a balcony, a dining table, and basic furniture. And, Alastor was right across the hall! You were surprised when he had placed you so close to his own living quarters.

Wasn’t your relationship just a farce, like he had joked in the lobby yesterday night? Maybe, he felt you’d feel more comfortable being near someone familiar.

Maybe, he felt more comfortable having you close to him.

These thoughts spun through your head as you got ready for the day. Your face was soaked with water as you reached for a hand towel on the rack next to the bathroom sink, the soft cotton refreshing as you sank your face into it.

Weirdly, there was a small stack of fresh clothes on top of your dresser. Also weirdly, in your size. Who could have put them there? You examined them anyway, finding them not too far off from your normal style before slipping into the garments.

Opening the curtains, you pushed open the balcony doors. That cool breeze brushed against your ears as you inhaled a deep breath. A smile playing on your lips as you let the warmth of a new day hit your cheeks.

It was nice here, actually. The hotel was far enough away from the streets that the smell of garbage and booze didn’t hit your nose as you inhaled the breeze again. You couldn’t hear the loud profanities or honking cars from all the way up here.

It was amazing. Maybe, staying here was going to be pretty good.

You left the fresh air draft into your room, as you walked to the door. Your fingers caressed the handle for only a moment as you hesitated, before you shook yourself and took a deep breath. The door slowly creaked open, squeaking as it inched backward. Your head slowly peaked out of the door, your eyes scanning down the hall, before eventually landing in front of you.

Alastor’s door. The wood was dark, walnut-brown with golden borders that glinted underneath the wall sconces. There was nothing unusual about it, but it was it being his door that made it stand out against all the identical rooms in this hotel.

Should you knock? Ask him for directions back to the lobby? No, that was going to be weird. You didn’t want him to think you were using him or anything. No matter how much of a gentleman he acted.

Instead, you simply slipped through the threshold and quietly shut the door behind you.

Okay… so you definitely remember your room being on the right side of the hall when you came here last night. Which meant the lobby was somewhere left. Nice, at least we’re getting somewhere.

Turning, you begin your trek down the long hallway. Your eyes would occasionally glance at paintings, or your reflection on wall-length mirrors, as you walked. It wasn’t long before you arrived at a larger sub room, with a few pieces of furniture like benches and side tables. There was a TV in one corner, with stacks of newspapers on a coffee table in front of it.

It seemed to be like a small lounge, and you noted that in your head for later. The problem was, the room then split into three separate hallways. Your shoulders dropped, and your lips curved downward at the sight. Why was this place hellbent on meddling with your biggest weakness?

Crossing the room to one corridor, you peeked around the corner. There was nothing familiar you could pick out from it, no distant noises that gave you an inking of a guess. You gulped, how exactly were you supposed to get back to civilization now?

“There you are, my dear!”

You turned, your back hitting the wall as you watched the red demon stroll towards you. He stopped a few steps away, a pleased look on his face at the sight of you.

“Alastor! I was hoping to catch a familiar face out here.”

“Well, aren’t you glad that face was me?” He beamed, extending his arm out for you to take. Without hesitation, you slid your arm into his hold, locking at the elbows.

“Of course! You are the only familiar face here, honestly. I might have forgotten your friends' names during the night.” You smiled apologetically.

“Don’t worry, they are quite colorful characters, these people. I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“They seem to be, although I'm not sure whether they like me yet.”

“Oh, I’m sure they do,” Alastor smiled, patting your hand assuring. “you exude a warmth and charm that it is impossible not to be drawn to.”

Heat crept into your cheeks, and you averted your gaze to the ground.

“Take those silly fellows that can’t seem to stop bothering you, always courting for your affection, my word, just practically begging for your attention!”

Well, that was a more positive light on what you’ve been through this past week.

“If those are the kind of people that want my attention. Then, maybe I don’t want any of it at all.”

Alastor was silent for a moment as the two of you continued walking, you felt his arm in your hold tense slightly. Was he thinking about something?

“Come now, my dear. There are plenty of individuals who would cherish every moment spent in your company, without resorting to such antics.”

You lifted your head and met his gaze, and he only continued to smile at you. His eyes were genuine, as he looked at you. One might even consider them soft. Is that how Alastor felt when the two of you spent time together?

You hadn’t spoken very much to him, at least on personal matters. But, with how the others in the hotel regarded him, it seemed he didn’t do that ever.

Has he ever told them about his mother or her recipes? Trusted them to fix his clothes, to care for him? Alastor seemed to put distance—figuratively and literally—between him and others.

But, with you? Well, calling a strange woman your wife the first time you laid eyes on her is rather bold and personal for such a man.

You felt flustered at the thought that you were the one Alastor chose for such things. You averted your gaze again, a sheepish smile on your lips.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.”

“It’s nothing at all. Why don’t you join me for some coffee? There is a patio right at the front of the hotel, it’s my favorite place to spend my mornings.”

He wanted to spend time with you? Well, you weren’t going to argue with that.

“Of course, I'd love to! You’ll just have to lead the way.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

The two of you walked in silence, as you passed through another long hallway. You could hear faint voices in the distance, growing louder at each step.

Was everyone else in the lobby? Would you have to greet them all again?

You saw the large threshold of the front room, and saw the glimpse of the large stained-glass front doors peeking from the corner. Right as you were about to walk through, Alastor nudged you to the side of the hall, and you turned to find a small set of stairs leading up a level.

You tried to memorize the path in your mind, for next time. The voices from the lobby grew more audible now, and you could hear what sounded like Charlie and Sir. Pentious speaking. A conversation about his path to redemption.

Isn’t that what they expected you to do now? Beg to Heaven to let you through the pearly gates because you repented for your sins? You doubted whether that was even possible.

As you neared the staircase, you turned your head to the lobby before looking back to Alastor. Were they just going to ignore the rest of the residents? You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Are we not going to say hello to your friends?”

“Why bother? They have their routines, we have ours.”

You didn’t say anything to that, instead, just let him glide the two of you up the stairs towards a pair of glass doors. You could see the light-red hues of morning peeking from the drawn shades.

Carefully, Alastor twisted the handle and pulled open the doors, that cool breeze hitting your face as soon as you stepped through the doorway.

“Well, here we are.” He spoke, slowly unlacing his arm from yours.

In front of you, was a small tea table and a single chair staring out at the city. A few flowers decorated along the short, metal railing in porcelain pots. Their colorful blossoms swayed gently in the breeze, as you stepped up to the table.

“Do forgive me, my dear. I seem to have forgotten a seat, I'm not used to company up here.”

With a quick snap of his fingers, a second, identical chair materialized across the table. A small radio emerged from a small pool of green fog as it dispersed on a post at one edge of the railing. It played a soft, jazzy melody as you crossed the small balcony, before positioning yourself in front of the seat to sit.

“Please, allow me.” Alastor appeared beside you, one hand on the chair’s back as he pulled it out from the table.

“Why, aren’t you just a gentleman?” You teased, before lowering yourself onto the small cushion velcroed to the chair’s seat. You felt Alastor push you closer to the table, before he lowered himself slightly to meet your gaze.

“Now, what would you like to drink? Tea, coffee, orange juice? Anything you desire, my dear.” He spoke, smiling as his nails clicked rhythmically against the table.

You told him, and with another snap of his fingers, two pieces of glassware settled upon the table. A pitcher materialized in his hand, before Alastor lowered it to your cup and began pouring the contents.

It swirled around your glass, and you watched it settle as he poured it to the brim. Your eyes trailed his hands as the pitcher melded into a coffee pot, and you watched the dark, steaming liquid land into his glass.

He didn’t add any cream or sugar, and you watched in surprise as he settled into his seat without any modifications to his drink.

“You drink your coffee black?” You asked curiously, an eyebrow quirked as you tilted your head at him.

“Mm, yes. I find that it helps sharpen the senses, and heightens one’s awareness. In a place like this, one must always have control of their surroundings. Don’t you think so?”

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink as you listened. He was right, in a way, about needing to be prepared for anything in Hell. But, why continue to punish yourself by taking away the few good things you could have in such a depressing realm? Maybe, Alastor didn’t think there was any good in Hell.

Watching Alastor lift the coffee to his lips, you noticed the way his entire face softened as the bitter flavor hit his tongue. His smile was so very faint now, almost a firm line, but it seemed.. peaceful. His eyes were slightly lidded, in an expression of contentedness as the breeze tickled at the fur on his ears. The music was peaceful white noise as you sat there, hand underneath your chin, gazing at Alastor as he looked out at the city, a small smile on his lips. Oh, how you so enjoyed his lipped smiles.

It was like that for a few more quiet moments, as the sky continued to lighten until Alastor turned his eyes to you. You squirmed underneath his gaze, realizing you were caught mid-ogle by him. He regarded you curiously for a few moments.

“Find anything of interest in your observation?” Alastor asked slyly, a teasing smile on his lips.

“Your ears are very fluffy” You blurted, before slapping a hand to your mouth. Alastor’s eyes widened slightly at your brazen response.

“Pardon?” He asked after a moment, the static in his tone thicker, hoarser, as the words left his lips. As if he couldn’t comprehend that was what you had landed on. Did no one ever compliment his ears? Correction, did no one ever genuinely compliment him other than to save their skin or to praise his power?

“Your ears, when the wind blows on them they puff out a little from the cold,” you practically whispered through your fingers, “I imagine if someone were to squeeze them, they'd feel so soft too, like squishing a plush teddy bear.”

You buried your face farther into your hands as those words left your lips, heat creeping onto your cheeks. Why were you thinking about touching his head? What happened to not taking too bold of steps? You did not need to overindulge him on what you thought of his ears. Jesus, you were embarrassing.

Peeking through your fingers, you saw Alastor averting his gaze, taking a sudden interest in some flowers near his chair. His ears were flattened slightly, as he adjusted the collar of his suit feverishly. His smile wavered slightly, flickering to a nervous expression. Was Alastor flustered by your comment?

“What an–ahem–unique perspective. My, you are such a charm, my dear, you truly have a way with words. Thank you for the compliment.”

There was silence again, as the tune from the radio seemed to grow slightly louder, drowning out your beating heart. You grabbed your drink, throwing your head back and downing the rest of it in one gulp. If only it was alcohol instead, so you could at least have an excuse for your comments. It was Alastor who spoke up again next, and you were relieved to be changing the topic.

“Tell me, now that you’ve gotten a little more familiar with it, what do you think of the hotel?”

“I think it’s… cute,” you answered softly, your finger circling the lip of your glass as you thought of more to say, “Charlie has a very large dream, and she seems to be the best one suited for the job with the influence she has. But, her residents…? Well, I wonder whether they have it in them to change, especially that–ah, what was his name–guy, Angel Dust? I could see Sir. Pentious being redeemed though. I’m sure he’d do good in Heaven.”

A small chuckle reverberated from Alastor’s throat as he closed his eyes, an amusing smile on his lips. You closed your mouth quickly, leaning back slightly. What was so funny about what you said?

“What?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow again as you crossed your arms.

Alastor cleared his throat, before meeting your eyes again. “Nothing, I just find the concept of a second chance awfully.. silly, you could say.”

“You don’t believe in sinners being able to go to Heaven?”

“Goodness, not at all.”

“But.. you’re helping run the hotel trying to do just that?”

“Well, yes, but it is just simple charity work. I had heard about this place on that noisy little picture box months ago, and how much the demons on the street laughed at it.” Alastor took another large sip of his coffee, adjusting his monocle slightly as he set the cup back down. “That is the problem, my dear. Every sinner in this city has had their chance at going to Heaven, back on earth. They lost it, and now, they’ll only laugh at the concept of such a thing.”

“What was life like for you?”

“Life?” Alastor raised his eyebrows at you, his claws halting mid-tap against the table's surface. His ears swiveled slightly to face you, his gaze curious.

You grimaced, you hadn’t meant to ask that out loud. Should you brush it off? Just because he told you about his mother and his radio show, doesn’t mean he was going to fill you in on his entire past. But, you were so curious! What kind of man did your false husband wake up to be every morning? What did he experience that gave him such pessimistic, ultra-realistic views?

“On Earth,” you clarified, straightening in your seat as you fidgeted with the glass in front of you, “What was it like?”

“Ah, you want to know more about the greatest era in mankind’s history? I’d love to indulge you on such a topic! You know, the first radio station was started in the 1920’s, and of course that only was the beginning of such a wonderful medium. I believe it was called KDKA, I remember exactly where I was standing when the first broadcast hit the radio, I believe it was about th–”

“No, I mean, what did you do on Earth, Alastor?” You interrupted, prodding him for a real answer. You weren’t looking for a history lesson, you wanted to know more about him.

“Me?” He sputtered, caught off guard by your question once more.

“What was your favorite thing to do when you were a child?”

Alastor looked like he wasn’t going to respond, for a moment. His eyes were squinting at you, reading your expression. Did he think you had some kind of ulterior motive? That you were going to take any information and sell it to the highest bidder against him? Your expression was genuine, however, and he only sighed. His brows furrowed in thought, as he recalled distant memories.

“Sometimes, my mother would send me to town for baking ingredients, and every time I'd choose the longest route, which was Frenchmen Street. New Orleans is famous for many things, art, food, but most importantly, music.”

“Music?”

“Indeed! Music is the heartbeat of New Orleans,” Alastor continued, a wistful smile playing on his lips as he delved into memories of his childhood. "I remember those days vividly, wandering that long, vibrant street, soaking in the melodies that filled the air. Jazz, blues, the soulful rhythms that seemed to draw in huge crowds like moths to a flame."

He paused, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "And then there were the nights when the city truly came alive. My mother would take me to smoky jazz clubs, where the air hummed with energy and every note seemed to carry a story. I was captivated by the raw emotion of the musicians, their ability to weave tales with nothing but their instruments and their voices."

A flicker of nostalgia danced in his eyes as he recalled the details, those hidden, buried emotions rising out of him slowly. “I realized then how powerful such mediums truly were, they had the magical ability to perpetuate emotions, feed the crowds, and fuel the thoughts. Music is just another form of art, of course. I’m sure you saw our dear artist’s paintings, and I’m sure they stirred something in you, hm?”

You nodded slowly, leaning forward in your seat, enraptured in his words as they spilled from his tongue. Gosh, his voice was just so nice to listen to. That radio overlay that dripped from his tone was like white noise that tickled your brain with pleasure. You thought his laughs were cute, the way they crackled softly with static.

“I’m sure you would have been happy standing there for hours just to marvel at its beauty. Music can do the same, and when you’re a famous radio host like me,” Alastor gestured to himself, a prideful smirk on his lips, “You need that form of hypnosis to get all the listeners to tune in to the next broadcast, and to keep their interest. Without that power, I wouldn’t be as well known as I am now.”

You were sure he would still be well known for more than his radio broadcasts, with the reputation Alastor had with his… violent tendencies.

“There,” Alastor sighed, like a heavy weight was lifted off of his chest, “are you pleased with my response, my dear?”

“I think I am sated for now.” You responded with a smile, batting your eyelashes as you leaned back into your chair.

“Good, now, I believe it is my turn to ask you a question.” Alastor straightened, his claw clicking softly against the table in sync with the music buzzing in the background. You raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly in anticipation as he leaned slightly across the table.

“Have you decided on whether you are going to reside at the hotel and try redemption?”

You tensed, smiling wider as your mind raced. Sweat beaded on your eyebrow as Alastor looked at you expectantly. What was your decision? Sure, you’d get free room and board, it was no doubt safer than your home, and maybe, just maybe, redemption could actually work. But, was it enough to flip your whole life upset down, over what, a demon man who helped you out a couple of times?

“Alastor, I–”

Your voice was drowned out by a powerful explosion that rocked the patio, the radio fell from the railing and disappeared from sight, as the music faded with it. Your ears rang from the small blast, which had barely missed the wall of the hotel. Alastor’s head snapped to the source of violence, eyes narrowing as the figures of burly demons grew more visible as they approached. There were about four of them, who each held pistols, and a few rolled a grenade between their fingers.

“Angel Dust!! Come out here, you filthy skank!” One snarled from the group, fist raised towards the hotel.

“Ah shit!” You could hear the faint voice of the spider demon coming from the lobby, it sounded frantic as a head poked out from the large entrance doors.

“What did you do?!” You heard Vaggie growl, as another explosion rocked the side of the hotel.

“I sold em’ fake drugs! They thought they were buying coke, but I only gave em’ baking powder!”

“Angel, you idiot!” Vaggie snarled in response.

You shrunk back in your chair, your heart beating erratically and you watched a few more men gather on the hill. What was going to happen? Why did this always happen to you?

Alastor sighed exasperatedly, rising from his seat as he straightened his bowtie. He turned towards you, walking to your place across the table. Your hands were still resting on its surface when Alastor reached down and gently grasped them, before lifting them to your face. He laid your palms against your eyelids, adjusting your fingers to where only darkness greeted your vision.

“Just keep still just like this for now, my dear. I will be back in only a moment!” He replied chipperly, before you felt footsteps fade away from earshot. The silence didn't last very long, before your thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of screaming and strangled gasps. You felt the ground rumbling slightly under your feet, and you only shrunk deeper into your chair.

The screaming wasn't anyone familiar though, instead, it sounded like it was those drug dealers

“Yeah! Kick their ass, Alastor!” Angel Dust cheered from your left, and you perked.

Your fingers splayed slightly, as you picked between the gaps. Your vision was greeted with large, dark green tentacles that snaked in the air. They weaved around small figures who were scrambling across the clearing in a desperate attempt to survive. Some wrapped around the flailing demons, before pitching them far in the distance. Their screams faded as they disappeared from view.

You couldn’t see Alastor, but you assumed he was out of harm's way since the tentacles were doing a good job corralling the thugs. There were a few stragglers that managed to dodge his attacks, though. That became very obvious when a clawed hand reached over the railing, and you screamed as a dark gray, shark-faced man rose into sight.

He growled at you, as he landed with a thump on the old, cracked tile. A large knife was pulled from a sheath around his waist, and he twisted it between his fingers as he stalked up to you. You pressed yourself as deep into your chair as possible, your body frozen in terror.

“₩ⱧɆⱤɆ ĐØ ɎØɄ ₮Ⱨł₦₭ ɎØɄⱤɆ ₲Øł₦₲?” You heard a snarl of static from the ground, before a tentacle wrapped roughly around the shark demon’s body. His face morphed into a look of terror, right before he was flung away from the patio and beat into the ground by the large mass.

The gang of thugs were almost finished, as you finally exhaled a shaky breath. Your heart felt like it was about to burst, and your eyes darted around the area for any danger.

You shot up from the chair, scrambling to the doorway for safety. You stumbled off balance as the ground rumbled underneath your feet once more, your knees hitting the tile.

Growling in pain, you twisted your head to get a look at what had happened. Your eyes darted across them before you saw the small, cylindrical object fly towards you and land against the railing of the patio.

It erupted into a small ball of flame, before it burst into a large cloud of dark gray smoke, shaking the floor beneath you more violently as shrapnel flew. You tried to scramble away, as the large table was thrown to its side, and began to skid across the tiles towards you.

Your body couldn’t react fast enough to dodge the incoming object, instead, all you could do was throw your arms up and curl closer to yourself, screaming. Praying for mercy from the oncoming blow.

Except… nothing happened. The chaos still ensued around you, and the screams of terror and maniacal laughter still rang in your ears. You felt no pain, yet could still feel the breeze whipping against your arms as you held them up defensively. What just happened? You’re not like, double-dead, are you?

Slowly, you lowered your arms, planting them beneath you to help lift yourself from the ground. As you rose to your feet, your eyelids fluttered open.

The table was split in half, lying burnt on both sides of the patio. A slight trail of smoke wafted from their remains, and your eyes traveled across the tiled floor to what had caused the destruction.

Your eyes landed on an unfamiliar figure, their white overcoat swaying slightly in the wind as they regarded you. That platinum-blonde hair glinted in the morning light beneath the rim of his hat, and your eyes rested on those awfully familiar red cheek spots that stuck out from his pale face.

Your mouth dropped open, eyes widening, as the name of this strange man dawned on you. The image of the fallen angel, the most powerful man in the realm, stood before you.

Lucifer, the King of Hell, was leaning against the partially-destroyed railing. His arms crossed as he regarded your slightly battered form curiously.

“Did I miss anything?” The apple-cheeked man teased, sending you a charming grin. His demeanor was calm, and playful, despite the chaotic scene around him.

Would it be taken as disrespectful if you fainted right about now?

man i rlly dug myself into a hole with these titles huh x) i’ll think of something guys don’t worry. but can i just say how much i love throwing the reader into all this chaos, fun fun!

lmk what you think :)

taglist 🏷️

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites @lunaramune @enigmatic-blues @thytorturedpoet @vanhelsingsbigtoe @mixplara @blue122 @zardward @loser-bby @sirens-and-moonflowers @diaouranask @luzzbuzz @theredviolets @the-attention-whore @rayanicaraynbow @girl-nahh-two @moonmark98 @asianfrustration13 @fairyv-ice @missam @beezgobuzzbuzz @valentique @dory-98 @mo-0-o @willow404 @laundrybear @karolinda007-blog @nightreverie

(it only lets me mention 50 of you?! im so sorry to the rest of y’all 😭😭 i’ll reblog it with more tags sksksjjsjsj)

[shewolfofvilnius]

It's fascinating how even though you don't always hear about \ anyone other than Astarion, every origin companion in BG3 has an endgame/epilogue state that is either outright bad for them or at the very least "not as good as they deserve".

Obvious there have been books and 100,000 pages of fic and discourse written about Ascended Astarion. In the moments when he almost acts like his old self, even then it's merely humoring you with a whim.

Mother Superior DJ Shadowheart flat out admits to severe empathy for what Viconia went through, and has fully closed herself off from any sense of attachment or feeling other than Nocturne and Tav. Her continued need to find carve-outs and exceptions and loopholes parallels Viconia's own eventual disagreements with Shar. And as we know, Shar will eventually betray or abandon her if Shadowheart doesn't betray her first. It's the story of every devout Sharran we meet.

Gale, the God is a smug arrogant hubris-ridden asshole that's even mean to Tara in the epilogue. Nearly every single sentiment he expressed about why he wanted the Crown and to ascend is immediately inverted. Of course he's not going to interfere. He's a figure of aspiration. Once he received power himself he immediately forgot and forsook everyone and everything about why he wanted it in the first place. A romanced God Gale is SLIGHTLY more grounded but that's mostly just because you ground him. And if you ascend with him, that ends that.

Lae'zel's return to Vlaakith results in her ascension, which leads to her missing the party and being very dead. The things that Lae'zel claimed to value will never truly be as long as Vlaakith rules, and her not escaping and falling back into her people's death cult robs her of the ability to create a new Gith, a better Gith.

Karlach is dead, or almost as bad, a Mind Flayer. And while most of her initial personality remains, by six months in she's already grown emotionally distant and her personality is clearly and evidently being slowly overridden by the brains of the dying she consumes. She's forsaken the embrace of death for the guise of eternal continuation in her. And even surrounded by the ten people who should mean the most in the world to her, all she mostly thinks about is others' perceptions of her (ala the Emperor) and the fact that she's hungry. Mind Flayer Karlach even notes that she used to think becoming a Mind Flayer would be the worst thing ever, but now she likes it. Shades of the Emperor x1000 and a clear sign that the Karlach we know and love is rapidly becoming a memory.

and then there's Grand Duke Wyll. On the surface, it appears the happiest of the "bad" endings, but pay attention. Note how he discusses wheeling and dealing and making agreements with patriars. (How well has contracts and deals worked out for you in the past?) Oh, and in certain conditions including romance, Wyll will offer you the chance to become a Grand Duke as well - with the others being his father (Ravengard #3) and Florrick (Wyll/Ulder's longest lasting family friend). That's not a government of the people for the people. When the power is tied up by a husband, spouse, his father, and their most trusted advisor, that's the makings of a monarchy or oligarchy. Of the type of patriar power-claim to last for generations, something Wyll himself once mocked. Oh, and if you adopt a child, then you get into the worst part of it all: Wyll's been busy running a city, and oh hey, instead of y'all bringing YOUR FOUR MONTH OLD DAUGHTER with you, hey, she'll be cool being watched by the Ilmater temple for a night right? Sorry, Wyll, were you saying something a few months ago about distant parenting? Yikes.

[ew-selfish-art]

DP x DC AU: Bruce is the one to invite Constantine over, and no, it's not to improve his tenuous working relationship with the asshole. It's the opposite of that.

---

Danny had become a frequent visitor of Wayne Manor in the last few months, and Bruce had to admit that while the kid was certainly a bit ominous for his liking for a partner to Tim, he was a generally kind and happy soul. They'd been dating for a lot longer than the Bats knew of- Kon had been the one to let it slip to Jon who told Damian and so on- and since the relationship was no longer secret, Tim brings him to family functions.

The thing about Danny is... He's dead. More than half of the time. Which again, is not Ideal for Bruce's wishes for Tim's future husband, but it also means that he reviles in being alive. Danny is downright joyous about using his time left on earth properly. He makes Tim eat real food, enjoy real sleep and generally live a more fulfilled life than he had been. The whole family noticed the changes in Tim, and it made them like Danny even more.

So after a particularly grueling day of dealing with Trigon and therefore the JLD's lack of coordination and sensible planning- Bruce gets the idea. John couldn't fucking contain himself admonishing Bruce, and perhaps it was vindictive, but Bruce figures that John should meet Danny. Sans context of course.

...

John is really over dealing with Batman's prissy, over complicated and perfectionist attitude. Come to the Cave he'd demanded, as though John didn't have a favorite bar to get back to, deal with a ghost he ordered like John didn't have other priorities than some random shade.

When walking into the space however, the second his teleportation portal closed, John knew something was deeply, deeply fucked. The shadows were growing longer, the second hand on his watch ticked slower, the air smelled of sulfur and... Red Robin was sitting working at the computer like nothing was wrong. But what was wrong, was the kid was marked by The End. Marked by The Infinite. FUCK.

John knew Death, the Endless, and knew she could pick favorites just like her siblings (Dream's immortal drinking buddy comes to mind). But this wasn't her work, this was something other.

"Mate- the Bat said there was a ghost?" John feels like he might throw up, the eerie atmosphere complicating what should have been a simple request.

"Uh, obviously." The kid didn't even look over from his screen or pause his typing.

John slowly approached, looking over each shoulder a few times, turning in a few circles as the shadows appeared to dance and echo within the cave. He could see his breath, the air became so cold so suddenly. And then, with the gentleness of a pin drop, a new agonizing sound appeared with a Kid walking down the cave stairs. The aura of the room turned dark, every cell in John's body screaming to run, that this was basically the little girl from the ring crawling through the TV as the young man walked down the steps.

"Babe, your grampa says that dinners going to be ready in a second. Oh, uh, hey dude." The creature speaks, turning his eyes to John for only a moment to study him. It feels equivalent to a butterfly being pinned by its wings.

"Y-y-you, you're, you're one of the Endless?" John stutters, his body reacting in fear despite the nonchalant posture of the Beast. The young man rolls his eyes.

"Nah, one of the Ancients but like uh, I'm new in town. And hon seriously don't be late, A made tiramisu for dessert and you're not allowed to have any if you're late and I don't want to deal with you pouting."

"You had me at Tiramisu!" Red stands up from his computer and then turns, "John, what are you doing here again?" Red Robin finally looks over at him, completely confused.

"Just leaving." John mutters, his eyes still trained on the ANCIENT.

---

Bruce could barely hide his laugh when Tim reported the Magician meeting Danny in the cave.

That'll show the asshole to question Batman's knowledge of the occult.

[tb3ih]

worst husband ever! ⨳ gojo satoru

[ HUSBAND!satoru can't resist his lover ] | sfw + suggestion!

YOU awake tangled in between silk sheets and the long limbs of another slumbering body. Your eyes follow the ivory clouds which play tag along the beautiful, cerulean horizon of the morning sky. The peace and quiet settles into the marrows of your bones and you let out a sigh.

Beside you, there’s gentle snoring resonating from the male you share the bed with, his plush lips fairer than rose quartz as they puff with each breath. Turning on your side, your eyes trail up the bare of his toned back to the head of messy, white locks. You had never seen the almighty Gojo Satoru look so relaxed other than when he was snuggled in bed with you, one arm hooked around your waist and the other underneath his pillow. 

Careful as not to wake him, you do your best to sit up, teeth catching the inside of your lip as you feel the pain spike from your lower back. Across the room was a mirror, positioned perfectly to allow you a clear view of the scarlet which danced across your upper body in splotches. 

You curse, picking up your pillow before slamming it down on your lover’s head.

Asshole.

Gojo stirred with a hiss, a curse leaving his once peaceful lips as he’s pulled from his slumber and forced to endure the morning. He turned on his side, propping himself up on his side with an incredulous look on his face, white sheets slipping just enough to tease the light with the sculpted lines of his torso. “What’d I do?!”

“What didn’t you do?” You bring a hand to flick a finger against his temple, only for him to grab it and take the opportunity to pin you on your back, something viciously mischievous glinting in his beautiful azure irises. “Satoru!”

One hand pressed against the mattress next to your head and the other bringing your hand to his lips, he pressed a whisper of a kiss to the smooth skin. “That’s the name, love.”

Your eyes narrow, his childish antics something you had gotten accustomed to. Using your free-hand, you pinch his side, taking the opportunity when he yelps in pain to flip him over and straddle his waist. You grab his jaw, forcing the male to take you seriously, despite the playful tug at his lips. “It’s late, we should be up by now,” you assert, “I want to explore the island while we still have daylight.” 

“And what does that have to do with me?” Gojo’s expression is still playful and you take the pillow to smack in his face one more time, which he blocks, leaving you flustered and frustrated. You roll off of him, leaving his laughing figure alone in the bed. “Wait, Y/n–”

You take his t-shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the room. “Nope, I won’t hear it.” The bathroom door slides and you pull it open, revealing a large tub and shower space. There are hurried footsteps behind you but the door slides shut before your husband can make it through. 

The sound stills from the other side of the door, a quiet knocking resonating as Gojo attempts to greet you. “Love, let me in, please?”

Silence. 

“Please?”

You wait a beat, silently cursing yourself for giving in the way you do, the way you always do. 

His eyes are pleading, pseudo-hurt written in blue when hsi gaze meets yours. His lips are twisted in a pout. “Y/n…”

“Satoru.” You raise a brow, the look you return him expectant and unsurprised. 

“Oh Y/n! My sweet, precious, beautiful, lovely–”

You grab him by the neck, pulling through the doorway into the bathroom with you. “Shut up before I change my mind.”

Gojo gasps dramatically, acting as if you’d ripped out his heart with your bare hands. He cries out, whining about how cruel you are to which you simply roll your eyes, hand on his chest to push him back into the shower. 

The water is warm when it hits the two of you, lacing itself between your two silhouettes and settling in every space your bodies don’t occupy together. His lips on your neck have every cell in your body sighing in content and the thoughts in your brain melting down the drain with the shower water. 

It was never a dull day with Gojo Satoru.

© tb3ih mmxxiv all rights reserved.

[reidsdimples]

Can i request something? But if you can't , its okay. Reid x reader, enemies to lover, undercover as married couple, Get gift from the other, play game, open the box, need to use whatever in the box. one of it's "vibrator underwear" then up to you...

Not So Faux Lovers

18+ ❤️‍🔥MDNI‼️

my take on this request, hope you love it! 🥰🫶🏻

"Oh honey! You shouldn't have!" You gush at your faux-husband Spencer.

"You have to open it!" Cara, the unsubs wife, beams.

They were deep undercover as a married couple. The team was trying to figure our who in this underground kinky sex group was trying to involve minors. You guys had been at this for weeks, this being the third party you attended.

You were just grateful Spencer got you guys out of the group orgy that took place the night before. You were dedicated to your job but not dedicated enough for groups sex to keep cover.

Besides, you and Spencer had started to get on each other's nerves. Both of you wound tight from stress and short tempered with one another. The two of you had been fighting before the party but played as if you were the happiest married couple.

This party in particular involved the exchange and mandatory use of sex related gifts. You hoped Spencer figured out something that didn't involve one of the party members shoving something inside of you.

He nudges you to open it.

You tear the box open, less than eagerly. It takes you a moment to deduce what exactly the odd looking item was. You tilt your head and pick what appears to be a wireless remote.

"That's for me," Spencer snatches it from you.

You hold up what you realize to be underwear with something in the crotch. It was a pink lace thong with a fucking vibrator in a small pocket in the front. You blush and swallow hard.

You had opted to get him flavored condoms in which you would feign sex on the other side of a closed door as you were forced to do once before. This was...

"Oh hell yeah!" Trent, one of the party members claps Spencer on the back.

"Go put them on," another girl smiles at you. "Let's see if you can control yourself when he uses it against you."

You fight the urge to glare at your 'husband'. He was eating this up, putting you in an awkward position and watching you get all flustered after such an argument earlier.

"Honey, would you assist me please," you hiss and tug Spencer out of his chair.

"What the hell is this?" You whisper shout at him when you both get into the bathroom.

"Thought it might be fun," he smiles mischievously.

"Are you serious?" You smack his arm. "How am I supposed to focus with you and that damned remote... You are such an asshole."

"Like I said, it might be fun," he exits the bathroom with a cocky wink.

You didn't know where this sudden shift in him came from. Perhaps the fact that the two of you have been playing these rolls for five weeks and were pent up after constantly being tossed into sexual scenarios and fighting all the time. He just changed the game.

You hesitantly pull on the thong and adjust the vibrator against your clit where it's meant to sit. This is insane. Yet you find yourself coiled tight with excitement at Spencer controlling your pleasure... that was new.

You pull up your skirt and exit the bathroom with your head held high. If he wants to play, let's play. You toss your original underwear at his chest and sit in his lap. You hear his breathing hitch in shock but he plays it off as natural.

"How do we know she's actually wearing them?" John, the unsub, purrs.

Spencer holds up the small oval shaped pink remote and presses the center button with nimble fingers. You jolt in his lap as the vibrator hums to life against your sensitive core. You grip the back up his neck and squeeze your legs together.

"Okay!" You bite out.

He switches it off with a sinister sort of chuckle.

You feel wetness gather between your folds as you adjust yourself on his lap and turn to the others who were exchanging gifts.

“I bet you’re wet already,” he turns it on the lowest setting and nips at your ear. “I’m sure it’s not because of me though. It’s just your body reacting,” he purrs condescendingly.

You elbow his abdomen and shift in his lap which prompts him to turn it off.

-

"This was great, thanks for coming!" Cara hugs you as you and Spencer exit her house.

Luckily he had only pressed the button one more time when John seemed to be inspecting you for signs of him using it. That was until you dropped into the passenger seat of his car.

He flicks the vibrator on seemingly a low setting and stares at you as he backs out of the driveway. You don't give him the satisfaction of responding but have to sit up straighter.

He moves his thumb up to the next, more intense setting and you can't hide your response. You squeeze your legs together and bite down on your lip.

"You are infuriating," you spit at him. You dig your nails into his forearm and tilt your head back. God it felt so good, you hadn't had an orgasm in so long.

"Spencer," you draw out the warning. A moan escapes you though.

"So pretty when you moan," he breathes. He focuses on the road, the streetlight flashing over him as he drives. You don't miss his fingers gripping the steering wheel. "So much better than when you argue with me," he smiles at himself.

You drag his free arm over to you and force him to press the vibrator harder against you.

He obliges and flattens his palm between your spread legs, the sight of his strong arm there is intoxicating. You try to remember why you guys were arguing but come up with nothing.

"Spencer," you whimper and find yourself grinding yourself against the vibrator and his hand. "Please," you cry out as your legs start to shake.

Your orgasm fires through every nerve in your body, leaving chills all over. You let out a series of whimpers as you cum, the orgasm leaving you feeling deflated against the seat when he turns off the vibrator.

You glance over at him where he is trying desperately to keep his eyes on the road. But you eye his cock straining against his pants.

"Pull into this parking garage," you point ahead.

He glances at you in confusion with furrowed eyebrows but obliges.

"Get out of the car," you order when he parks on the empty top floor. He hurries out of the black SUV and you don't hesitate to grab the collar of his shirt.

You crash your lips into his hungrily until he's leaning back against the driver's side door. His tongue greedily invades your mouth and he tastes better than anyone else you've ever kissed. His large hands explore your waist and run up your back as he moans into the kiss.

Your hand finds the back door handle and you swing it open, shoving him in with a giggle. Both of you scoot in until you're straddling him, you can feel his erection against you.

"Are you sure?" He asks as you rip his shirt open.

"Shut up, Spence," you pant and kiss him hard with your hands in his hair. He flips the vibrator on, causing you to jump. "Damn it, Spencer," you groan and take the remote from him. You turn it off and throw it in the trunk.

He smiles and lets out an amused huff when you shuffle out of the thong. You lean back and undo his pants, pulling his impressive cock free.

"Oh," you gasp.

"You can do it," he praises as he slips his fingers into your cunt. You soak his fingers instantly, earning a satisfied moan from him.

You grip his hair near the back of his neck and angle yourself above it. Your pussy clenches with need as you ease down.

"Fucking hell," he throws his head back. "You're so tight."

"You started this, you better fuck me properly before you cum," you growl in his ear.

"Still talking shit?" He challenges you and bucks his hips upward.

You cry out as his entire cock is shoved inside of you, forcing you to stretch to his girth.

"You..." you start but then he grips your ass and thrusts upward again. You claw at his shoulders.

"I what?" He glances at you, his mouth agape as he watches you take his cock with each thrust he gives you.

His hand curls around your throat and he picks up speed as you hover slightly over him so he can fuck you deep. He trails his hand up and grips your jaw while he shoves his pointer and middle finger into your mouth.

"This smart mouth..." he muses. "Sounds so pretty crying out for me."

He snaps his hips hard upward, his cock slamming into your cervix until you scream. While one hand grips your jaw, the other moves to your clit. He massages it harshly, quickly as he fucks you.

You suck on his fingers as tears stream down your face from raw pleasure. He felt unbelievable and you were getting close. You were going to soak him like this. You were a squirter when penetration and clitoral stimulation mixed. You worried he would be disgusted but as you wound tighter you couldn't stop him.

"Fuck," comes your muffled cry.

"Cum for me baby, show me how much you hate me," he teases.

His filthy mouth is the last straw. Your body goes taut and your head rolls back. He takes the opportunity to grip your throat as your walls tighten around his cock, drawing a moan from him. You explode around him, you feel the liquid pouring out of you and down onto him.

"Holy shit," he pants in awe.

"Ah!" You keep cumming as he thrusts into you enthusiastically. He smiles, satisfied as his cock starts to pulse.

His cum fills you deliciously as you roll your hips onto him, greedily taking everything he has. The flesh between the two of you is drenched, its filthy, its so fucking hot.

Your phone rings. Hotch, fuck. You glance at Spencer who is still inside of you and shush him.

"Hotch," you answer the phone. "No nothing of note tonight. He didn't mention the minors."

Spencer tenses his cock inside of you, causing you to bite your lip when you feel his cum dripping out of you.

"Yeah I can send you the photos from his attic, Spencer got some good ones," you start teasing him back by grinding your hips.

You clamp your hand over his mouth as you tease his oversensitive cock by tightening your pussy.

"Yes sir, got it," you tell Hotch and hang up.

"You're impossible," you slap his chest and lift yourself off of him.

"I've never seen that before," Spencer blushes. Actually blushes despite what just happened.

"Seen what?" You ask as you pull your skirt down.

"So much... um so much..." he stumbles over his words.

"You've never been with a squirter?" You ask.

"No," he laughs nervously.

"Cherish it, it's the last time," you smirk and hop out of the car. You watch him adjust himself and fix his clothes through the window.

"We'll see about that," he winks and gets back into the drivers seat. Ugh.

[chuuyasheaven]

Lovely wife on the surface, freak under the sheets !! (Fyodor, Dazai, Chuuya)

TAGS. F. Dostoevsky, D. Osamu, C. Nakahara (separately) / Wife! Fem! Reader, p in v, oral sex, Fyodor’s might not be as spicy as the other two, masturbating (Fyodor), teasing, pet names, slight praise and degrading, slight brat taming (Fyodor, Chuuya), breeding kink (Chuuya), mentions of getting prego (Chuuya), might have grammar errors, etc.

NOTES. First two finals were good, yesterday in the english one, there was a task of writing a story and guess what I did? I wrote a cringy angsty soukoku fan fic 😭 but yeah small Drabble to feed y’all pookies!!!

F. DOSTOEVSKY

Everyone thinks you and Fyodor are a good match, because look at you! His pretty little wife who does everything she’s told, never thinking of saying ‘no’ to her husband.

But sometimes, you like being a little disobedient just to get punished by him. So that’s why you probably were fingering yourself, the cold wedding ring adding more to the pleasure. When Fyodor caught you, your legs were spread and your wet cunt was on display for him, so he obviously knew that you let yourself get caught on purpose.

“Such a naughty little wife, hm?”, Fyodor hummed as he slowly let his finger drag across your wet folds, picking up your wetness. “My, my, look at how wet you are, darling. Couldn’t even wait for me to come back, no? You know your fingers aren’t good as mine.”, he was right, his pale, long slender fingers could reach spots you never could on your own. “I know, but you took so long!!”, you whined, “Please help me out, Fedya.”, Fyodor chuckled, two fingers, going around your dripping cunt to avoid it. “I don’t know, a naughty wife who doesn’t follow her husbands orders shouldn’t get the pleasure they crave.”, wasn’t he right though? He specifically told you not to pleasure yourself when he wasn’t around, didn’t he?

“C’mon, Fedya, please!”, you begged him, moving around to get his fingers to touch your cunt at least once. “So desperate, aren’t we?”, he teased, a smirk making it on his face. “I’ll never do it again, promise. . You were gone for too long and I just missed you! Please, please, please, Fedya! Need your fingers in me.”, aw that’s cute, maybe he should give in to your pleas? “Do you think you deserve it, my dear?”, you better not lie and say something he didn’t wanna hear. “No but I’ll make it up to you! I will earn it.”, Fyodor really didn’t think of this answer, but went with it either way. “You’re gonna earn it?”, you nodded and sat up. “Promise.”, He was satisfied with that.

“Then come and earn it, love.”

D. OSAMU

Dazai wasn’t the possessive type, but when it came to you, his wife, then he might be. Especially when a man was flirting with you, even though you clearly have a ring on your finger! Luckily for you, Dazai was with you when this happened earlier. All that happened because of the dress you had on, a dress which was hugging your figure nicely, hell, if he didn’t know any better he would be flirting with you too!

Well, bless the heavens and the above for catching you before anyone else did, because you feel way too good than you should, he also had the privilege of ripping the very same dress of off you.

“You look way too sexier than you should, ‘donna.”, Dazai was working his tongue on your cunt, sending light vibrations to it by talking to you. You just nodded, being a little spent because this was going on for two rounds straight. “Oh, so you agree?”, he asks you, his hot breath moving further away from your cunt. “No, Dazai— don’t stop!”, you whined, but Dazai just chuckled deeply. “I gotta disagree with you on this one, sweetheart. . I think you’re rather divine, your taste especially.”, this teasing asshole, why was he asking you questions instead of making you cum for a third time. “My beautiful wife, thinking she isn’t sexy. . Maybe I need to convince her?”, Dazai was standing up, giving you the illusion of depriving you of your— much deserved in your opinion —orgasm. But no, he was far from done with you.

The amount of bliss you felt when he pushed his cock in you, nearly screaming of how sudden it was to you. “I think I already know how to.”, his hips started moving against yours while his hands were holding onto yours. Your moans were pulled from you again, you grabbed the sheets in the amount of pleasure he made you feel.

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby. . Just keep being such a good wife for me, ‘kay?”

C. NAKAHARA

Before your husband, Chuuya, came through the door, you were backing him a small cake. Just like a good wife should, also wearing a cute apron with the saying “Kiss the chef”. All went well so far and Chuuya walked through the door, not to greet you, that is.

You are a good wife, but sometimes you can be a little deceiving. A prime example being those photos you sent Chuuya at least a hour before his work ended, photos which included you in his favorite lace lingerie with the caption “miss you”. And what was your reason? Just to tease him a little, maybe a little motivation to work faster to get home earlier.

He was impatient, he’s been waiting for a hour to get home to you, just to not even get to the bedroom. That’s right, he was gonna take you right at the kitchen counter. Chuuya took off your shirt to see you were still wearing the set, a smirk was curving up on his lips. “You’re still wearing this, doll?”, he asked you, since you were bent over the counter he couldn’t see your smile on your face, but he could hear your giggle. “Yeah, just for you.”, you admitted in a teasing tone. “Just for me? Well then allow me. .”, he replied, pulling your lace panties to the side.

Chuuya wasn’t going slow at it, he was basically going so fast and hard that the counter legit started to shake slightly. His hips slapping against your ass, your moans filling the kitchen along side by his groans and breathy cursing. “Couldn’t wait for me to— mhm, fuck —to come home, hm? Sendin’ me photos of you looking so perfect sayin’ you miss me.”, he groaned, all you replied with was a moan. “Such a little slut, you jus’ wanted to get fucked, didn’t you? Teasin’ me at work just for a good fuck.”, Chuuya could feel his orgasm approaching, your cunt clenching around him only sped up the process.

“Ch–chuuya— ngh!”, you moaned out his name in bliss, Chuuya sped up the pace. “Want me to cum inside you, baby? Want me to fill you up so fuckin’ good?”, he asked in a low mocking tone, waiting for a response from you. “Y–yes! Ah— please!”, his cock twitched when you gave him the permission. “Yeah? Gonna fill you up so much you’ll be leakin’. . ‘till you might get pregnant.”, he didn’t really mean it, did he? It was all in the heat of the moment, right? Nonetheless, it turned you on with the way he said it. A deep chuckle was heard from him as he felt you clench down again. “You like that, doll? You wanna get pregnant with our child— oh fuck —you’re squeezin’ me so tight. . You sure you want it?”, you repeatedly moaned a yes, making him smirk. “C–cumming!”, you almost screamed, the amount of pleasure being a bit overwhelming.

“Yeah, just like that. . Take it like a good girl, baby. Hm— keep clenchin’ like that so nothin’ spills, understood?”

Hi again 😋 hope y’all are well fed now :3

[katethetank]

Ok I’ve never written anything before, and I’m obsessed with Steddie content. So without further adieu, here’s a modern day Steddie story where Eddie comes to terms with the hard truth that his husband’s snuggles might be more popular than his world famous band. This kind of got away from me and ended up way longer than I thought it would. Oops.

Content warnings: idk, TikTok I guess?! It’s fluffy and sweet, illusions to smut at the end

Eddie Munson was a notoriously private person. Corroded Coffin was the biggest metal/alt band in the world, and despite the fame, he managed to keep his personal life just that - personal.

There of course had been rumors over the last few years of who he was married to. Among the chunky metal rings that always adorned his fingers, fans couldn’t help but notice the simple silver band on his left ring finger. Paparazzi would occasionally catch him out in public with various women, leading his fans to speculate wildly who his mystery wife was.

But as soon as the rumors got started, they were quickly shut down. He was photographed once stumbling out of a club in New York with SNL star Robin Buckley on his arm. Social media went absolutely rabid and Robin made sure to clear things up the following Saturday on Weekend Update, announcing that she was in fact, a raging lesbian.

Not too long after that, Eddie was photographed clinking wine glasses with accomplished journalist Nancy Wheeler at a romantic rooftop restaurant in LA. When rumors started swirling around them of a secret affair, Nancy’s husband (and Rolling Stone photographer) Jonathan Byers put a stop to it by posting a picture of all three of them on his socials explaining that they were long time friends and out celebrating Nancy’s nomination for a Pulitzer.

Again the rumor mill started churning when Eddie was spotted giving a piggyback ride to pro skateboarder Max Mayfield after one of her competitions. Accusations of him “robbing the cradle” had her immediately posting a video on TikTok telling everyone off, fake gagging, and saying that Eddie was like her big brother. She then pulled Eddie into the frame asking, “Would you losers seriously believe I’d be into this ugly mug?” before promptly shoving his face away. Eddie was only a little offended.

Max’s video kind of blew up though, with everyone demanding more of Eddie’s presence on the app. Reluctantly he started his own account, his first video of him backstage at his sold out Madison Square Garden show, simply flashing the devil horns, sticking out his tongue, and greeting, “Hey assholes!”

It effectively broke the internet.

He was verified within a matter of hours, and had millions of followers within the first day.

Now all he had to do was figure out what the hell he was going to post. He didn’t want to share too much of his private life, but scrolling through the comments, he could see how much his fans truly loved seeing just that brief candid moment from him. So he started sharing bits and pieces behind the scenes at his shows, shots of the guys hanging out on the tour bus, and one lazy morning, a glimpse of his sleep-rumpled self in bed and his birds nest of bed head.

The comments on that last one exploded.

Everyone wanted to know who he was sharing that bed with, asking for a peek at his wife, if she was also famous. Who was he married to for god’s sake?!

He refused to take the bait.

One afternoon he set up his living room for a TikTok live, planning on just strumming his guitar, answering questions about the new album that was coming out, maybe taking some requests for songs to play. While he was glancing at the comments and plucking away at his acoustic, he didn’t hear the front door open, or the footsteps coming towards the room. He startled when he heard, “Babe, I’m home! I got you some more Honeycombs!”

Eddie froze. And the comments went absolutely fucking wild.

“Wait, was that a dude?!”

“Did some guy just call him babe???”

“SPOUSE REVEAL?!?!”

“OMG IS HE GAY???? I LOVE THIS FOR US!!”

“Oh I am so invested in this! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈”

“Honeycombs?! Really?!”

Eddie scrambled to set his guitar down, quickly thanked everyone for tuning in, and cut off the live stream.

Steve stepped into the room with a questioning look on his face. “Babe?… what’s wrong?”

Eddie glanced at him sheepishly mumbling, “We may have just spilled the beans on a live stream.”

“You were doing a live stream? What happened? And wait, what beans?”

Sighing heavily and running a hand through his hair, Eddie stood up and walked over to Steve, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I was doing a TikTok live, playing some songs and talking about the new record. I didn’t hear you come in, and when you shouted that you were home, it was apparently loud enough for everyone to hear. So I shut it down fast before the comments got even more out of control. I didn’t know what to say!”

Steve leaned in and gave Eddie a peck on the nose, hugged him tight, and asked, “Well… how bad were the comments? Do you think people are gonna freak out?”

“Freak out? In a good way, maybe. They all seemed pretty surprised to hear a guy’s voice and were asking for a spouse reveal.”

Steve furrowed his brows and thought about it for a few moments. “What if we did?”

“Did what?”

“A spouse reveal. I gotta admit, it’s been pretty annoying having everyone assume you’re sleeping with our friends! I don’t really like the idea of being in the public eye, but what if we just did a quick video or something to put the rumors to bed for good?”

Admittedly it was a pretty good idea. Eddie liked being able to share parts of his life with his fans, and Steve was the biggest part of his life. It would be nice to show him off for a moment and finally tell the world who put that ring on his finger.

“Yeah. Yeah, ok! Let’s do it!”

Eddie grabbed his phone, opened TikTok, and got comfy on the couch. Steve sat down next to him, cuddled into his side. He started the video with the camera just on himself, took a deep breath, and hit record.

“Hey guys! Sorry to dip out of my live stream so suddenly. I was a little thrown off with that interruption, but thought it would be best to come on here and clear the air. Yes, I’m married. Yes, my spouse is a man. Yes, my favorite cereal is Honeycombs, don’t come at me for that! And this is Steve.”

He tilted his phone so both his and Steve’s faces were in the frame. Steve smiled brightly and did a little finger wave. “Hey everybody!”

Eddie giggled and turned to kiss Steve on the cheek. Even after years of being together, Eddie’s affections still made him blush. Steve turned at looked at Eddie with stars in his eyes and whispered, “I love you babe.”

“I love you too sweetheart.”

They shared a brief kiss before Eddie ended the video and immediately posted it.

He effectively broke the internet again.

Millions of likes and comments flooded in, a huge wave of love and support from his fans. And of course, more questions.

“Shut up, they are so fucking cute I’m gonna puke”

“I’m so sad that the married rumors are true, but omg his husband is crazy hot! Good for him!”

“His name is Steve?! Why is that so adorable?!”

“Find yourself a man who looks at you like Steve looks at Eddie!”

“Who is this Steve?! TELL! ME! EVERYTHING!”

“We demand more Steve!”

“Ok I need more details immediately”

The demand for more Steve content did not stop. Eddie still wanted to keep his private life as private as possible, but Steve had no problem with popping up in a few videos here and there. Rolling his eyes in the background at Eddie’s antics, hands on his hips while scolding the band for being late to an interview, painting Eddie’s nails backstage before a show. Just little glimpses of Steve being Steve. His fans ate that shit up.

One night Eddie was left to his own devices while Steve was out having a “girls night” with Robin, Nancy, Max, and El. Why he wasn’t invited too he will never know. Not that he was jealous or anything. Totally not jealous. He decided to set up another TikTok live while he screwed around on his guitar. About an hour in, the front door flew open and in stumbled a very flushed, very giggly, very drunk Steve.

“BABE! I SAW ARIANA GRANDE TONIGHT!”

Eddie started laughing as Steve made his way into the living room, glancing at how the comments went absolutely apeshit again.

“Stevie, sweetheart, sit down before you hurt yourself.”

Steve took the guitar out of Eddie’s hands and plopped down in his lap. “Babe, seriously! I saw Ariana Grande! Me and the girls went to some club and Nancy got us into the VIP section, and there she was! Just! Sitting there looking all cool and famous! Babe, it was awesome!”

Chuckling, Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve, kissed him on his temple, and pointed at his phone set up on a tripod. “Stevie, you interrupted my live stream again. Say hi to everyone!”

Steve turned his head towards the phone, eyebrows raising up, and smiled dopily. “Oh! Hi guys! Did you hear?? I saw Ariana Grande!” He then quickly snapped his drunken gaze back towards Eddie. “OH MY GOD! Babe! Do you think she’s on here?! Can you message her?!” He turned back to the phone shouting, “Ariana! I’m Steve! We should hang out! Eddie, tell her we should hang out!”

Eddie started cackling and patted Steve’s head like a puppy. “Ok big boy, you’ve clearly had enough. Sorry guys, I’m gonna have to cut the stream short and put this one to bed. And uh, yeah. Ariana Grande, if you’re into hanging out with preppy former jocks who like to snuggle while they’re wasted, let me know I guess. Goodnight!”

Eddie looked down at Steve, who had tucked himself into Eddie’s chest while he was talking, and gave a little kiss on his head before ending the live stream.

“Hmmm… sleepy.”

“I know you’re sleepy sweetheart, let’s get you into jammies and tuck you in.”

The next morning Eddie awoke to a hungover Steve groaning into his neck, and a message on TikTok from none other than Ariana Grande.

“What the fuck?!”

“Hng… too loud.”

“Sweetheart. Stevie. Wake up!”

“No.” Steve pulled the covers over his face.

“Honey, seriously, you need to wake up. You’ve gotta see this.”

“Eds, I don’t wanna see shit, I wanna sleep.”

“Stevie, do you remember coming home last night and telling everyone on TikTok that you want to hang out with Ariana Grande?”

Steve flipped the covers back off and gave him an incredulous look. “I did not.”

“Yeah princess, you did. You stumbled in talking about how you saw her at a club and wanted to hang out with her. And guess the fuck what.”

“…….what?”

Eddie turned his phone for Steve to see the message.

“What the?… ‘Hey Eddie! I caught your livestream last night and my answer is yes! Steve seems like an absolute doll, I’d love to hang out with him’”

Steve looked at him with wide eyes and just stared for few beats.

“SHE WANTS TO HANG OUT WITH ME?!”

His volume made both men wince, Steve immediately grabbing his throbbing head and groaning.

“Yes, sweetheart, apparently babbling drunk gay men are her thing. So, when should I tell her you’re free?”

The following Wednesday, Steve was a nervous wreck. He had cleaned the house from top to bottom, prepped a gorgeous charcuterie board, had wine chilling in the fridge, and checked his hair about 30 times.

“Stevie, darling, sweetheart. You’ve got to calm down.”

“Calm down? CALM DOWN?! Eddie, Ariana fucking Grande is coming to our house! How is this even happening? What if we don’t have anything in common? What if she thinks I’m an awkward idiot? I don’t wanna screw this up!”

Eddie wrapped Steve up in his arms and gave him a tight squeeze. “You won’t screw anything up. Everyone loves you Stevie. Just be you, and she’ll love you too. And if you’re freaking out, I’m a phone call away, alright? I should only be at the studio for a few hours and then I’ll be home before you know it. You two will have a great time! Ok?!”

Steve let out a long suffering sigh. “Ok.”

The doorbell rang and Eddie took his hand, walking with Steve to go greet their guest of honor. As soon as the door opened, Ariana Grande herself was standing there with a huge smile on her face. “Steve! Oh my god, it’s so nice to meet you!” She immediately gave Steve a hug and barley even acknowledged Eddie standing there.

“Ok. Well. I guess I’m not needed here. Have fun you two! Don’t do anything I would do!” Steve laughed and gave him a quick peck before leading his guest into the house.

After a few hours of polishing some tracks on the new album, Eddie headed back home. He hadn’t heard from Steve the whole time he was out, and hoped that everything went smoothly with his new friend. Or whatever the hell this was.

Opening his front door, he was greeted with the sounds of giggles, clinking glass, and… are they watching Twilight?!

He pulled out his phone and started recording as he walked into the living room. “Here I am, coming home after hours of slaving away on our new album to find THIS.” He flipped the camera around to a view of Steve and apparently his new best friend, snuggled under a blanket, wine glasses in hand, a few empty bottles on the table, surrounded by a mess of crumbs, giggling at blue-tinted vampires playing baseball.

He flipped the camera back to himself, sulking “I think I’ve been replaced.”

Internet: broken.

“Did they just become best friends?!”

“Awwwww I want Steve Snuggles!”

“Living for this!!!!”

“#stevesnuggles”

“Wait, did he make her a charcuterie board??”

In the weeks that followed, #stevesnuggles took over social media. Everyone and their mother was gushing about Eddie’s adorable husband, wanting to see more of him, and his snuggles. Eddie couldn’t blame them, really. The man is adorable. But he still wanted to keep sort of a lid on their private life, so he limited most of his posts to just Corroded Coffin content. Anticipation for the new album was amping up, a tour was being planned, and the buzz was buzzing.

Unfortunately with all of the work leading up to the release, Eddie wasn’t getting enough of his daily allotment of Steve Time. He was looking forward to the weekend when his schedule was clear so he could finally have some quality time with his husband and soak up all of those famous snuggles.

Life had other plans, though. Friday afternoon he got a text from Steve saying that it was his turn to host girls night. Again, why was Eddie not invited to these things?? Not that he was jealous. Of course not. That would be crazy. He resigned himself to the fact that tonight, he’d have to share his husband.

When he stepped into their home, he immediately recognized the honking laughter of a tipsy Robin, Nancy’s adorable giggle, but there were several other voices he couldn’t decipher. Thinking ahead, he once again pulled out his phone and started recording.

“HONEY, I’M HO- the fuck?!”

It took him a moment to register what he was seeing. He flipped the camera around to focus on the absurd cuddle puddle on the floor. In a pile of what must have been every blanket and pillow in the house, was the obvious collection of Steve, Nancy, Robin, and apparently now Ariana. But then…

“Sweetheart, why are Rhianna and Taylor Swift on our living room floor?”

Steve just looked up at him pie-eyed and sweetly stated, “Girls night!” to which the bizzare collection of women shouted, “Hi Eddie!”

How many times can you break the internet before it stays broken?

“WHAT. THE FUCK.”

“Ummmmm best girls night ever?”

“How do I get an invite??”

“So Steve is just a magnet for powerful women then. Got it.”

“#STEVESNUGGLES OMG!!!”

Steve snuggles indeed. Eddie was so used to being in the limelight, it was a strange adjustment to have his once under the radar husband be in such high demand. Every time he posted a TikTok of the band, the comments were flooded with requests for more Steve. He did sometimes cave and give the people what they wanted. Quick videos of Steve cooking them dinner while dancing to his god forsaken pop music, sneak peeks of some of their new songs with Steve singing along, and ok, one thirst trap of him working out in their home gym. Eddie was a just a man after all, and his husband was hot.

The album was finally released and sales were through the roof. Corroded Coffin had never sold so many copies before and someone from the label insisted that their TikTok presence had everything to do with it. Was it actually them, or the love for Steve? Who’s to say. Either way, their concerts across the country were sold out in a matter of minutes and the band couldn’t wait to kick off their next tour.

The first show was in LA and Eddie had planned to do a quick TikTok before they took the stage. He started in the hallway backstage, welcoming everyone to the start of the tour, and made his way into the green room. “Alright everyone, let’s check in quick with the band and make sure these dickheads are ready to go! BOYS! ARE WE - Steve?! What the hell?”

He flipped the camera around to the view of Steve happily scrolling on his phone on one of the couches. With Dua Lipa cuddled up on one side of him and Lady goddamn Gaga on the other. What the fuck is his life?

“Babe! Hi! The girls were in town and came by to check out the show!”

“I’m sorry… THE GIRLS?! How do you even know them?!”

Steve raised an eyebrow at him like he was an idiot and said, “Lipa was on SNL and she had Robin get us connected. And Jon did a photo shoot with Stef and…basically the same thing.”

Stef?! Who the fuck is Stef? Wait right… Lada Gaga is a stage name.

Eddie flipped the camera back on himself and just. Stared. “I…I don’t know what the fuck is happening.”

Queue the comments.

“Ok is he like best friends with EVERY icon?!”

“Steve IS the icon! 💅”

“What’s a girl gotta do to get some #stevesnuggles in here?!”

“Omfg Eddie’s never gonna get his own #stevesnuggles now is he?”

“SHARE THE WEALTH”

“I can’t believe this app is free”

From there on the tour went off without a hitch and fans in every city were rabid for the new album. And of course Steve. Goddamnit. He’d occasionally see people in the crowd with “#stevesnuggles” t-shirts, or hear chants of “We want Steve!” Yeah, Eddie gets it. He wants Steve too. For himself.

Eddie took to posting a lot of videos from backstage with the band, sound checks, screwing around with the crew. And of course to appease the masses, some of Steve in his element. Putting on Gareth’s eyeliner, helping Jeff pick out his stage clothes, and rubbing Eddie’s shoulders after a grueling show. Just Steve mother henning everyone.

When they made it to New York, they had an appearance on SNL a few days before their concert. They got to catch up with Robin, meet the cast, and get a feel for what went into producing the show. Eddie hadn’t heard who the host was, not that it probably mattered much since they’d only see them at the end-of-show sign off.

He was in the middle of doing a livestream behind the scenes, walking the legendary halls of Studio 8H when he popped into his dressing room to show off the digs. “And here we have my office for the night…. Uh. Stevie? What? The fuck?” He turned the camera around to see Steve snuggled up with… goddamn Beyoncé.

“Hey babe! Did you meet Bee yet? She’s hosting tonight!”

No the fuck he didn’t meet “Bee!” And sorry, his husband is already on a nickname basis with this Queen?! Who the hell did he marry??

Goodbye internet.

“HOLY. SHIT.”

“Seriously, gay men have all the luck.”

“Two absolute queens, omg”

“BEYONCÉ GETS #STEVESNUGGLES OMG!!!”

“Eddie, your husband belongs to Bee now, my condolences”

“Don’t tell Jay Z”

The show went well even though Eddie was visibly shook by his husband’s new friend. Seriously, what is his life?! How much further was this going to go? He was relieved when the tour finally ended and they could go back to their bubble of domestic bliss. That is, until the next girls night probably!

Once they were back home and settled into their routine, he realized he needed to make some more content now that things have calmed down. Privacy was always important to him, but after a night of taking his husband apart over and over, he smirked and had an idea.

Quietly grabbing his phone off the nightstand, he started recording. Steve with his chaotic sex hair, neck covered in hickies, and curled up sound asleep on Eddie’s chest. A chest that was decorated in tattoos and nipple piercings, as well as fresh scratch marks. Eddie smirked at the camera, winked and whispered “hashtag Steve snuggles.”

RIP internet.

[barbiesmuse]

BETTER VERSION ⋆౨ৎ˚˖ ࣪

;ֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָsimon riley + reader

summary: in which you are constantly hoping for your empty shell of a husband to sweep you off your feet. but you find yourself dreaming about a better man.

tags: asshole!simon, dreams about sex, neglect, cheating but not really, simon refers to your pussy as “her.”

HEAD BARBIE'S ANNOUNCEMENTS: i think i'm back!! my dorm got broken into by a jackass frat boy so i've been buying new everything! do all men suck? everything has been so crazy lately i haven't been able to think straight! missed this dearly! thank you to the wonderful @ungodlybre for not only giving me this idea but letting me write it in my own special way! please check out her account she's amazing and has such a fun vibe! lots of love, natty. - ps. if this sounds weird it's because grammarly corrected literally everything. i am not proud of this, but i needed to get it out so i could finish my price fic!!

“But is it cheating if I love a better version of you?”

It was hard to figure out when Simon had stopped being the man you fell in love with. It wasn't a drastic change that happened unexpectedly. In fact, it was unnoticeable, how he stopped talking at dinner, how he never showered with you anymore, how he stopped getting you “just because” flowers. Yet the sex continued. It wasn't that he fell out of love with you, he'd be a fool if he had. It was the constant leaving that made him act in such ways. He felt as if he was not worthy of such a patient woman.

The past few nights, you had been dreaming of a man sweeping you off your feet and lighting a fire under you. A man who wouldn't use you strictly for sex then get deployed for six months. You knew Simon couldn't control when he had to go, but a small part of you wanted him to settle down. Maybe get an injury, just so you could have him to yourself for a few weeks, a month at most. You just missed Simon, not Ghost. Simon. Tonight was no different, you did the same ol' routine. Stumble up the stairs after having one too many glasses of wine, walk into your laundry room instead of your bedroom, and toss yourself onto the bed. It was pathetic, truly. You were a young sweet thing, it was a damn shame you settled for a many who treated you like a toy. It wasn't on purpose. He truly did love you, right? The sound of Simon's boots woke you from your slumber, the sound of him cursing himself under his breath made you giggle quietly. The sound of his voice comforting you, even though it was almost inaudible. As he walks through the door to your bedroom you smile sweetly, he couldn't help but smile right back. A sight for sore eyes. He didn't speak, no he wasn't worth it. He didn't even deserve to breathe the same air as you in his eyes. You were a goddess of a woman, he was simply an empty shell of a man. He could tell you were expecting more than a smile, but until he took off your panties in the middle of the night that's all you'd be getting. You watched as he undressed, your eyes flashing with admiration. Not at Simon, at the thought of a better man. When he turned around you would see the man you'd seen in your dreams. He would press a gentle kiss to your temple, caress your cheek before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Instead, Simon stripped himself of all his clothes except for his red boxers and climbed into bed. There was a slight smell of musk, but you didn't mind. In fact, it was almost comforting. No words were spoken, but the two of you had a different way of communicating. His touch spoke for itself. Simon wasn't a man who had a way with words, but you understood him, and that was enough for him. He wraps his arm around your waist, your ass directly against his stomach. He pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder with a groan. He presses his forehead to your shoulder and you feel his soft lashes brush against your shoulder like a soft caress. You leaned your head against his shoulder, giving him access to mark your neck. He presses gentle kisses to your collarbone, trails up to your ear, and whispers softly.

“I know you've been dreaming about other men. I can't blame you, I haven't exactly been your prince charming.” He says, his teeth graze your earlobe. Your heart almost stops at his words, how could he have possibly known? You look up at him, shock painting a rather amusing picture on your pretty little face. His hands move from waist to fondle with your tits. A moan emerging from your plump lips, he smiles he could get used to that sound.

“Trust me sweet girl, I know i'm hurting you, I know I am. I'll make it better, okay? Just gotta trust me, love.” He says as his hands trail down to your lacy panties. He knows you wore them just for him, and he loves that. He loves how even though he treats you as merely a roommate, you still make sure you're all primped and pretty just for him and his cock. You can't help but nod, everything he's saying is true. He has been hurting you, and he knows it. Has he taken pleasure in it? Simon's hands trail down to your swollen clit, you can't help but buck your hips at the sudden touch. He lets out a quiet chuckle, his hot breath against your neck. He presses a kiss to your temple before sticking his fingers in your mouth, you whimper as he stuffs his large fingers in your mouth. “Suck, gotta get her ready for m' cock.” He says, his voice raspy. You do as your told, sucking his fingers coating them with your sweet spit. Just as you feel Simon slip a finger inside of your sweet pussy you're awoken by the sound of Simon barging into your shared room. You can't help but feel tears prick at your eyes as he looks you in the eye, no hint of emotion in them. It was all a dream? But it felt so real, his touch, his words, his presence. You tried to convince yourself it was real, yet you were at a loss for words. You look up at Simon once more, his cold eyes look you up and down before pushing his way into the bed. “M' sorry m' not the man you want me to be, but thank you for being the woman I need ya to be.” He says as he presses a kiss to the exact spot your dream man did, and a little part of you would like to think it was real. He was so close, yet so far away.

[yikesmary]

PREGNANCY CRAVINGS — choi seungcheol x reader

summary: where being pregnant comes with its struggles, and one of them just so happens to be the random pregnancy cravings. so, in the middle of the night, you try to sneak out and go to the convenience store nearby and buy something to satisfy your craving. however, your husband wakes up and insists to accompany you—even if he’s barely awake.

notes: the convenience store i've pictured in mind are like the ones i've seen in korea. but i don't really address where this occurs in, so use your imagination!

disclaimer: i'm not pregnant or have been pregnant so everything i write about pregnancy is most likely not true and therefore shouldn't be taken as fact (unless it's true, but make sure it's validated by an actual medical professional).

join my taglist!

“Oh, Cheol, you absolute asshole,”

You tried using all your strength to push your husband’s sleeping figure away from you, the heat coming from his body was too much for you. Trying to move him away was an obstacle, especially because he was working out more as of lately.

But finally, you had managed to cause enough noise in trying to move him that Seungcheol finally moved himself, scooting more onto his side.

You looked down at your pregnant belly and told your unborn child, “All that effort I put into moving him, and all he has to do is move himself?”

Huffing, you stood up and went to your closet, looking for an appropriate shirt to change into in order to go to the convenience store. In hindsight, you could probably have used your phone to order something, but the problem was you didn’t know what you were craving.

You knew that the baby was craving something, but didn’t know what. So, you decided that you were going to walk to the store and let the baby decide while walking through the aisles.

You rummaged through your clothes before going through Seungcheol’s side of the closet. As the pregnancy goes on, you��ve found yourself wearing more of Seungcheol’s clothes since they seemed to fit you better and were comfier than the maternity clothes that you never wore.

"What are you doing?"

You turned around in surprise to see Seungcheol standing, looking quite comfy in his pajama pants and a random old shirt. Being the one for dramatics (which you probably got from your husband), you put your hand on top of where your heart was. "You scared me! I think I almost gave birth then," you said.

He rolled his eyes and then rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "What are you doing?" He repeated.

"Oh, I was gonna go to the convenience store. The baby wants to eat something," you told him.

"Can't the baby wait for the morning?"

"The baby wants to eat, now."

"Then why don't you order something?"

"The baby doesn't know what to eat," you sheepishly said.

He looked at you for a moment, before reaching behind you to grab a hoodie. "Fine, let's go," he said, turning to leave yours and his' bedroom.

"I'm fine on my own," you insisted.

"You're pregnant and it's two in the morning. I'm coming with you," Seungcheol said, before yawning.

"Cheol, you're barely awake enough to be coming with me. You need your sleep," you gently said, but he was stubborn.

"I'm suddenly hungry too, so I'll just come with you to buy some food," he said.

Once you and Seungcheol entered the convenience store, you were greeted by the quietness of the place and the single employee that was stood behind the cash register.

You looked around the aisles while your husband followed not too far away from you. "Choose what you want, I'll be paying," he instructed and you didn't bother to argue, considering he always insisted on paying.

Wandering around, you grabbed your favorite snacks, a couple ramen cups, and a few of Seungcheol's favorite foods. Realizing that you should've gotten a basket, you looked at Seungcheol, who seemed to be amused with your current predicament of full hands.

"Don't laugh, it's not funny!" you whined, but he only seemed to amuse further with your comment.

Wordlessly, he left the aisle to grab a basket. When he returned with the basket, you dumped everything in it, and he carried it while you walked around the aisles one last time.

After making sure you didn't want anything else, Seungcheol went to the register, with you waddling behind him.

"Was it worth it to ruin our sleeping schedules for this?" Seungcheol teased, and you nodded with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

He shook his head but opened his mouth and you put a chopstick with ramen noodles on it in his mouth. "Not bad," he said and you beamed at his compliment.

"Is the baby satisfied with the food?"

"Yep, and the baby is finally tired enough to sleep," you said.

Waddling to your bedroom, with Seungcheol not too far from you, you settled into your bed, and closed your eyes.

"Sweetie?"

"Yes, Cheol?"

"I can't sleep now,"